#let them behave like teenagers and have fun

[gay-trans-disaster]

Okay!

Another fic idea:

Twilight.

There are still all the characters but. But!

Edward‘s gay. Bella figures out the whole vampire thing herself and is an annoying little shit. She doesn‘t leave his side. Because she‘s the weird new girl. Well, guess what, she‘ll befriend the unbefriendable even weirder guy sitting right next to her.

Everyone who tells her it‘s impossible and she‘s crazy gets a simple look that says “challenge accepted“.

(Also, Edward‘s sisters are really hot and cute. So, why not?)

I‘ve seen this tumblr post all the time where there‘s no big reveal, just Bells sliding over a copy of dracula in biology and Ed signing it before sliding it back. So, I thought of this dialogue when someone (the cullens or the pack) asks them how it happened that they‘re in this situation now.

—

Someone: so, you‘re not in a relationship?

Bella: hell, nah. he‘s my best friend.

Ed: and I‘m really gay.

S: uh, okay. but how does it come that you know about all that stuff?

E: she figured it out herself. she‘s really smart.

B: my reveal was great.

E: you slid a copy of dracula over the desk in biology, without a word.

B: you signed it and slid it back!

E: still have no idea why I did that.

[volensnolenss]

Jealous

𝓢𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: Only your charms can melt his heart and remove the influence of jealousy; 𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽: sfw! fluff, he calls you ‘my love’, ‘sweetheart’, mention of a possible child

“My love, meet me!”

Gojo burst into the warm house with a noise and a bright flame of fun, but he did not receive your usual hug and kiss. He threw off his coat in confusion, listening to the silence and looking for at least someone's presence in it.

“Satoru, we're here.” Your gentle voice came from the living room, and he immediately went to you when he saw your sleeping cat on you. Gojo narrowed his eyes and approached you with a drop of contempt, asking a question with his eyes.

“That is, because of her, I lost everything.”

Approaching the cat, Gojo wrinkled his nose and sneezed, making her jump in fear.

With one hand you gently removed the fluff from his face, with the other you stroked the cat with soothing movements, but suddenly she jumped off and ran into another room.

“She's finally gone.” Gojo sits on the edge of the sofa, swinging one leg over the other, grinning at the cat.

You giggled watching his reaction.

“Are you jealous?”

“Of course I'm jealous. I should be in her place!” Gojo crossed his arms and turned away from you like a stubborn child who has been deprived of a gift.

“Come here.”

“No!”

“Come on.”

“No!”

You gestured at him with your arms and reached out to him, to which he proudly raised his head without turning to you.

Because of his waywardness and character, he behaved like a teenager who doesn't really know anything and understands everything, but at the same time he longed for your touch, your stroking on the head and lily kisses.

“My darling, my best man, let me show you a sign that you are the only one in my heart.”

The only thing Satoru was guided by was your words, the way you skillfully use them.

He turned his head exactly 90 degrees, looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

“I'll think about it.”

Of course, he will not think, he will wait for you to take the initiative first.

“Satoru...” You called him flirtatiously.

You crawled up to him from behind and gently, lightly touching his shoulders with your fingers, brushed his neck with your lips, causing goosebumps all over his body.

“How long are you going to sulk?” You buried your forehead in the back of his head, wrapping your arms around him from behind.

You inhaled the remaining smell of rain and coolness, in which there was a subtle note of something sweet.

“Where have you been, Satoru?”

He was silent, there was a short circuit in his head from all your actions. You didn't see it, but he was smiling broadly, which made his cheekbones ache.

“How can I resent you, sweetheart?”

“Because you're like a child.”

You grunted and he threw you on your back, putting his head on you.

“Better stroke me. Since I'm a child, I want love and attention.”

“And you're a demanding child.”

You chuckled and began to run your palm smoothly down his back, moving to his head, starting to scratch it in a relaxed way, passing your thin fingers through his snow-white and soft hair.

He is always surprised at how you manage to influence him in such a way: as if at the click of a finger he fell and is ready to give himself up to the love that you reward him with.

“If you knew how nice it is to be in your arms after the rain.”

“I've heard that if it rains, it's for something good.”

You cupped Satoru's face in your hands as he propped himself up on his elbows.

He stared suspiciously at your stomach, examining it with a malicious smile. You tilted your head to the side, not understanding his behavior.

“And I heard that if a cat is lying on a girl's stomach, then she will soon have a child.”

You clicked, rolling your eyes and immediately shook your head, considering his answer a joke.

“Satoru, don’t be ridiculous!”

“Hey! Imagine how your mini copy will run around the house.”

“Thank you, I have enough of your mini fluffy copy.” You pointed out to him the cat that was sitting on the carpet, looking at you both with interest.

His brows became furrowed again; he wanted to say something, but you interrupted him, leaving a small kiss on his cheek.

“Okay, I'm at your mercy.”

[forgeofthenine]

So here’s a question. What do you think would be some accidental turn ons for Dammon/Zevlor/Rolan?

I absolutely loved writing this, it's such a fun idea. I have some thoughts of things the tieflings do that are accidental turn ons too, if anyones interested. Thank you for sending in the request!

Slightly NSFW under the cut, no warnings needed, reader is gender neutral as usual

Accidental turn ons for the tiefling bachelors

Dammon

Any off hand jokes along the lines of he 'needs to behave or he'll be punished'

Dammon doesn't even really have a punishment kink or similar but something about the cheeky way you say it does things to him

Something about joking that he's a 'bad boy' just really gets this man going

Play wrestling

Do I even need to explain?

Try to pin him down as you both laugh and grapple with each other, as soon as you sit on his hips to hold him still you'll feel a surprise against your ass

Bonus points if you hold his wrists and lean in to whisper in his ear

If you put a hand on his arm or back while passing him in a tight space

Dammon loves soft touches, and if you use touch to let him know your passing behind him it makes his brain go haywire

Zevlor

When you can speak another language

Especially he doesn't understand what your saying or you have a unique accent

Zevlors eyes go wide as saucers and he has to try and hide his growing hard on as he listens to you

When you take off a sweater and your shirt pulls up to reveal your stomach

He appreciates every part of your body, and getting a peak at your bare skin as you strip off a top layer really gets Zevlor going

Idly running your fingers over him in random patterns

You know how sometimes when you're sitting or cuddling with someone sometimes it's just nice to mindlessly run your fingertips over their skin? And it makes that tingly feeling for them?

Zevlor loves it, he loves the tingles

There's so many everyday things you do that make him feel like a horny teenager again

Rolan

Put your head on his lap and look up at him from there

Not only is he adorably blushy, but he's oddly quiet as he tries not to get hard right then and there

Running your fingers through his hair and braiding it

Rolan has a hair pulling kink, it's just a fact

You getting rid of the knots in his hair with your fingers before braiding it, the little tugs of it against his scalp the whole time

He might just die of horny-

Watching you on your tip toes trying to get a book down from a high shelf

Particularly if you wear shorts or a skirt, regardless of gender

Rolan sees it and the first thought in his mind is to press you against the bookshelf and take you right then and there

He's just enough of an ass to come whisper his wants in your ear, too

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Ok so Harry has a tendency to blatantly state out loud just how much the Dursleys don't give two shits about him (to the point that the people around him think it's just a typical teenager over exaggerating their complaints), but... Does he realise that the way he is being treated by them is wrong?

Also like, I know that the way the Dursleys treated him plays a huge part in the way Harry behaves and views himself- specifically him not thinking an adult is a reliable source of help and protection + his disastrouly low self esteem + how he doesn't respond to Snape's everything (which is the exact opposite of what James would have done) ... But what are the other ways in which he got affected and it shows? (Someone once mentioned that they hc that when feeling extreme emotions Harry tends to skip out on food and may have nearly wasted away in his second year had it not been for Ron and Hermione- which is also why they act so much like Harry's bodyguards)

Yep, Harry put no effort into hiding his abuse. He literally told anyone who would listen. By 5th year, he was making jokes about it to Ron and Hermione who seemed used to it.

Now, you've raised a few questions and I'll try to answer them to the best of my ability.

Does he realise that the way he is being treated by them is wrong?

I think he does. Most of his comments about his relatives' treatment definitely sound like Harry is very aware that he shouldn't be treated like that.

“I told you, I didn’t — but it’ll take too long to explain now — look, can you tell them at Hogwarts that the Dursleys have locked me up and won’t let me come back, and obviously I can’t magic myself out, because the Ministry’ll think that’s the second spell I’ve done in three days, so —” “Stop gibbering,” said Ron. “We’ve come to take you home with us.” “But you can’t magic me out either —” “We don’t need to,” said Ron, jerking his head toward the front seat and grinning. “You forget who I’ve got with me.” “Tie that around the bars,” said Fred, throwing the end of a rope to Harry. “If the Dursleys wake up, I’m dead,” said Harry as he tied the rope tightly around a bar and Fred revved up the car. “Don’t worry,” said Fred, “and stand back.”

(COS, page 31)

“It was cloudy, Mum!” said Fred. “You keep your mouth closed while you’re eating!” Mrs. Weasley snapped. “They were starving him, Mum!” said George. “And you!” said Mrs. Weasley, but it was with a slightly softened expression that she started cutting Harry bread and buttering it for him.

(COS, page 39)

But Harry wasn’t going to stand for this. Gone were the days when he had been forced to take every single one of the Dursleys’ stupid rules.

(GOF, page 33)

“Excellent,” said Lupin, looking up as Tonks and Harry entered. “We’ve got about a minute, I think. We should probably get out into the garden so we’re ready. Harry, I’ve left a letter telling your aunt and uncle not to worry —” “They won’t,” said Harry. “That you’re safe —” “That’ll just depress them.” “— and you’ll see them next summer.” “Do I have to?” Lupin smiled but made no answer.

(OOTP, page 54)

“You don’t seem to need many qualifications to liaise with Muggles. . . . All they want is an O.W.L. in Muggle Studies. . . . ‘Much more important is your enthusiasm, patience, and a good sense of fun!’ ” “You’d need more than a good sense of fun to liaise with my uncle,” said Harry darkly. “Good sense of when to duck, more like . . .”

(OOTP, page 657)

It seems Harry is very much aware that the way he is being treated is wrong. the younger Weasleys and Hermione are clearly aware of that too. Harry calls the Dursleys' rules stupid, he knows the Dursleys aren't treating him the way they should and that he doesn't have to take it. That he shouldn't have to take it.

Harry is kind of a best-case scenario of an abused kid and Dumbledore was so lucky Harry ended up functional enough for his plans. It could've so easily gone down differently.

Honestly, I'm enraged on Harry's behalf at how Arthur, Molly, and Lupin (and every other adult) just completely ignore his mistreatment. He really does just state plainly what's going on and has Ron, Fred, George, and Hermione backing up everything he says.

What are the other ways in which he got affected and it shows?

I do like when Harry's approach to food is affected by the Dursleys starving him, that being said, there isn't really any book evidence for it. It's an interesting headcanon to explore though. His low self-esteem, willingness to endanger himself, and his thinking that adults be counted on are definitely effects seen in the books. As for other things we do see in the books:

1. Harry is actually really quiet. He doesn't speak as much as Ron and Hermione and he's pretty awkward with social interaction. He mimics Ron in many ways since he never had any friends before him.

His approach to studying is one of the ways he mimics Ron socially. Harry actually read their school books before 1st year, he found Hedwig's name in a History of Magic. And he planned to study at the beginning of Philosopher's Stone. Then he meets Ron and realizes no one in Gryffindor except Hermione actually studies, and she is hated for it. So he didn't bother studying either, even though he planned to because he wanted to fit in.

2. Harry isn't great at emotional regulation, specifically anger. Harry is a pretty angry character and throughout the books, he actually has moments when he completely loses himself to a sense of anger.

A boiling hate erupted in Harry’s chest, leaving no place for fear. For the first time in his life, he wanted his wand back in his hand, not to defend himself, but to attack . . . to kill.

(POA, page 339)

“Madame Maxime!” said Fleur at once, striding over to her headmistress. “Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!” Somewhere under Harry’s numb disbelief he felt a ripple of anger. Little boy?

(GOF, page 275)

Harry sat there staring at Snape as the lesson began, picturing horrific things happening to him. . . . If only he knew how to do the Cruciatus Curse . . . he’d have Snape flat on his back like that spider, jerking and twitching. . . .

(GOF, page 300)

If Dudley’s friends saw him sitting here, they would be sure to make a beeline for him, and what would Dudley do then? He wouldn’t want to lose face in front of the gang, but he’d be terrified of provoking Harry. . . . It would be really fun to watch Dudley’s dilemma; to taunt him, watch him, with him powerless to respond . . . and if any of the others tried hitting Harry, Harry was ready — he had his wand . . . let them try . . . He’d love to vent some of his frustration on the boys who had once made his life hell —

(OOTP, page 11)

He does calm down the older he gets. But he definitely has a lot of anger in him.

3. Harry, in general, has a disrespect for authority. I assume this is an extension of his distrust of adults, in that no teacher or nurse ever helped him. Harry is so anti-authority and anti-orders, that he can resist the Imperius Curse decently from the first try.

Harry just doesn't do orders or authority. Actually in the earlier books, and even in books 6 and 7, Harry has his doubts about Dumbledore. He repeatedly tells people he's Dumbledore's man, but in his head, he has doubts. Like he has for any other adult with authority over him.

“Dumbledore’s been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!” he hissed. “He’s not as gone as you might think!” Harry retorted. He was speaking at random, wanting to scare Riddle, wishing rather than believing it to be true —

(COS, page 282)

“Because the Ministry of Magic’s still after me, and Voldemort will know all about me being an Animagus by now, Wormtail will have told him, so my big disguise is useless. There’s not much I can do for the Order of the Phoenix . . . or so Dumbledore feels.” There was something about the slightly flattened tone of voice in which Sirius uttered Dumbledore’s name that told Harry that Sirius was not very happy with the headmaster either. Harry felt a sudden upsurge of affection for his godfather.

(OOTP, pages 82-83)

He's very distrusting of adults and authority, but also his peers. He doesn't tell Ron and Hermione everything in the earlier books because he is very slow to trust. Which, makes sense for someone who grew up like he did.

4. His occasional impulsiveness is an extension of his issues with emotional regulation, I think.

5. I think Harry's cunning Slytherin streak is a result of his abuse. The Dursleys' mistreatment taught him to sneak around, to lie, to be clever. It taught him to keep a blank face when being yelled at because if he reacted it'll make it worse.

He learned how to insult the Dursleys in ways that go over Dudley's head. His little way to rebel.

6. His response to pain as well. We see it with Umbridge and the blood quill for example:

He let out a gasp of pain. The words had appeared on the parchment in what appeared to be shining red ink. At the same time, the words had appeared on the back of Harry’s right hand, cut into his skin as though traced there by a scalpel — yet even as he stared at the shining cut, the skin healed over again, leaving the place where it had been slightly redder than before but quite smooth. Harry looked around at Umbridge. She was watching him, her wide, toadlike mouth stretched in a smile. “Yes?” “Nothing,” said Harry quietly. He looked back at the parchment, placed the quill upon it once more, wrote I must not tell lies, and felt the searing pain on the back of his hand for a second time

(OOTP, page 267)

Harry can hide his pain and not react to it, and he does it well. He learned from the Dursleys that she wants to see his pain, and he isn't going to give her what she wants. Instead, he grits his teeth through it and doesn't react externally.

Even later in the book when Umbridge threatens with the Crociatus Curse, Harry just braces himself for it, not planning to break (in later books too, Harry is very willing to get hurt and just deal with it). He is willing to take torture without reacting, and I think this is something he got from the Dursleys.

These are the some other things that came to mind regarding your question. There are probably more that I can't think of now that I might add later. Harry is who he is in part because of his nightmare of a childhood. So many facets of his personality just link back to it.

[the-goddess-of-mischief-writing]

Random Soap MacTavish headcanons

sfw and nsfw

pairing: sgt. Soap MacTavish x reader (cod mw)

tags/tw: domestic stuff, afab!reader, handjobs, shower-sex

a/n: just a taste of our cinnamon-role-but-can-kill-you Scottish man before I start publishing my new series with him, tihi

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish MASTERLIST

sfw

-the way to this man's heart is through his stomach and I will die on that hill

-has such a big appetite, two portions minimum and has no shame in eating more, ''m a big lad, bonnie, need the fuel'

-but he's still respectful if you're having dinner outside your closest circles of friends and family, not complain and always lets everyone have their fill before even thinks about serving himself a second one

-this means Soap always has some snacks with him, most times it's a protein bar or something verging on healthy

-such good table manners??? you were surprised when Soap didn't eat like the average man, scarfing down the food in seconds well he still did that sometimes

-you got the explanation when he caught your poorly hidden astonishment, explaining how his ma drilled him with all kinds of etiquette and manners always saying 'just because yer in the army doesn't mean yer need to behave like a Neanderthal'

-give this man an evening with a home-cooked meal and cuddle on the couch to nap away the food coma afterwards and he's whipped

-he never puts on a shirt at home, just really likes walking around with only a pair of joggers

-he unmistakably has golden retriever energy, but compared to popular belief, his seemingly never-ending social battery can run out, and when it does, Soap's behaviour can flip like a switch

-makes him an introverted extrovert, he loves people, loves chatting and social situations, but craves alone time to re-charge

-you're his uncertified pillow, if you sit together he most certainly either has his head in your lap, is sprawled on top of you and face in your neck, head on your stomach with arms wrapped around your waist

nsfw under the cut

-much like, but compared, to Price, Soap doesn't mind your ass but he's a certified boob man

-if your boobs are big enough, he likes using them as cushy pillows, which often end with his face between them

-yes, he's definitely motorboated you out of the blue

-other times he repeatedly nudges them so they wobble or simply squish them together, grinning when you question if he's having fun

-if you don't have fuller busts, he likes to just rest his hand on your chest, always defending himself that even you unconsciously do it sometimes, but the argument falls apart when he rubs your nipple to make it perk against his palm

-Soap. loves.handjobs

-will never forget when he was taking a shower and you decided to join him, boobs pressed nicely against his back as your arms wrapped around his torso, then your hand slipped down his stomach until brushing his already half-hard cock, blood rushing straight to it the second you joined him

-when your fingers wrapped around him, Soap's hands fell to the wet tiles, head hanging between his shoulders, staring at your small hands jerking him off

-sometimes he feels like a teenager concerning how reactive he's to your presence, you don't even need to do something overly sexual and blood rushes south

-sometimes you caught the way he watches you intently, asking an innocent 'what?' squealing out a 'Johnny!' when he pulled away whatever cover or his pants remember the point of him going commando most of the time? showing off his bulge or rock-hard erection rather than verbally answering

[randombush3]

THE SECOND PART

(to get back to the main post)

carry on reading!!!

[...]

Bali is hot. Or at least, by your English standards, it is. 

The children enjoy the villa at the Ritz, less so the yoga you partake in when your best friends find out that it can mend broken hearts, and there are big TVs in the living rooms that the World Cup matches are broadcasted on. 

Your fingers remain bare, but no one knows about the ring in your suitcase anyway, so no one questions the absence of jewellery that used to adorn your hands. Or, at least, no one whose opinion you actually care about. 

Nico and Elena are happy to play and play and play, barely granting you their attention when you disrupt their endless hours in the pool or exploring the beautiful grounds of the hotel with the 24-hour childcare service. You had been reluctant to accept the help, but Gio was fine with her own daughter being stolen away, and they both called you ‘uptight and preoccupied, a sad, faded picture of how fun you used to be’ until you gave in. 

You let Alexia wonder about how her children are, attributing her lack of phone calls to her focus on chasing World Cup glory, blissfully ignorant to the fact that your friends have been micro-managing your interactions ever since they agreed they aren’t sure about letting you forgive the blonde just yet. That is not to say she doesn’t ever speak to them – Nico was gifted an iPad for Easter (a shoddy, shoddy excuse of an occasion to be given it, but you barely batted an eye as he tore open the packaging and thanked Auntie Anya profusely). He sort of understands how to FaceTime Alexia. They often happen when he is with what Alexia calls ‘the can’t-mother-too-busy-doing-drugs nanny’. 

You are lounging on the sunbeds, sweat pooling on your navel, music playing softly through the speaker Elena had begged you to bring. Though Moana pales in comparison to the days you’d attend concerts that weren’t your own, you are quite content to relax and zone out the lively songs and stare up at the brilliant, blue sky. 

Today is a bit different. You are two weeks into your holiday, with one remaining, and, today is the day you are finally going to open Alexia’s gift. 

You worked out what it was the moment she had given it, but, since you know that curiosity kills the cat, you have stopped yourself from opening it, not sure if you will cope with seeing a ring. What would this ring even be? A ‘sorry I fucked my best friend’? 

Elena hasn’t been included in the children’s entertainment plans for the morning; they have gone for a visit to a coral reef, accompanied by their babysitter and Anya (who you are beginning to think is enjoying their activities more than they are). Despite being relatively advanced for her age, some things fall short, such as her attention span. It doesn’t help that the sleeping issues Alexia had noticed are leaking into her time spent with you, too. 

“Mama,” comes a small whine, followed by a sniffle. Elena has been trying her best to copy you, lying underneath a towel for shade. You had hoped she’d finally fallen asleep, seeing as that didn’t happen last night. With her evidently still awake, you sit up, reaching out to run your hand through her damp hair, not quite dry from when she had enough energy to splash around in the pool. 

“Mama, tired.” 

“I’m not surprised. That’s what happens if you don’t sleep.” 

“Mama.” The petulance is a little glimpse into her teenage years, but then she begins to cry and your imagination falters at the sound. 

Elena, as far as toddlers go, is not the most emotional. She is generally well-behaved, if a little unresponsive at times, but she is quiet and introverted and happy to follow the leader, whoever that may be. She is a complete contrast to her brother, who basks in the attention he demands from those around him, loud about what he loves and hates, yearning to make friends with everything he sees. Elena, Elisabet Segura has told you, is just like Alexia, when she was that age. Controlled, reserved. (And your parents were quick to draw the similarities between you and your son.) 

Just like her mother, Elena is drawn to you. Just like his mother, Nico is drawn to Alexia. Opposites attract. 

It’s hard to ignore if you notice it. 

So, when Elena begins to cry, you are alarmed to see, in her eyes, the same fear that clouds hazel irises you know far too well. The tears glide down her cheeks in inherited patterns, and you try not to panic at how much she looks like Alexia – even if they do not share the same DNA. 

Part of you, the same part that suffered from postpartum depression and dulled your motherly instincts, wants nothing more than to run away from the crying toddler, horrified at the sight as you spiral and begin to imagine Alexia in her place, just as distraught as your daughter seems to be. And it’s weird and unsettling and you are so confused because Elena hasn’t cried like this since you told Alexia to leave. She continues, and even that night starts to seem minor in comparison to her meltdown right now. 

Elena does not sob, she does not scream, she does not shout and go bright red in the face earnestly. A developmental tantrum, sure, but never, ever like this. 

You have never seen this before, and you are at a loss for how to respond. Naturally, you draw her into your arms, holding her close and rocking her gently as she continues to wail. 

“Oh, my darling,” you stagger out, trying to forget your desire to join her, to break down with her. “Mama’s here, Lela. It’s okay.” The words feel inadequate and do nothing to soothe her, though your hands stroke her back as if to rub the comfort in, to absorb her anguish and bleed it out. You would do it, if you could. You’d take all of her pain away in an instant. 

In your mind, a whirlwind of thoughts swells up and disgorges bubbling, burning ideas into the pit of your stomach, none of them quite fitting as an explanation for her distress. Is she hurt? Is she missing Alexia? Or is it something deeper, something you’d overlooked? 

You can be selfish, you know that. Perhaps you have been too focused on getting over the destruction of your family that you have forgotten said family in the process?

Perhaps this has happened before! You were touring for a while.

As you hold her, helplessness washes over you, as though the pool you are right next to has grown thrice the size and is trying to drown you both. You wish Alexia were here all of a sudden. Alexia, gifted at soothing crying children and being a mother and managing a career and parenthood in a way that you have never quite managed. 

Alexia, who gave into your request for children and ended up besting you at it. 

Alexia, whom you still love and miss and hope, sometimes, will wake up beside you even if you know that it is wrong and pathetic and… God, do you really lack such self-respect that you’d take her back? Are you this useless that the crying child in your arms should be passed off to someone else because you can’t cope and you never will and you still smoke because you’re stressed and the last time you took drugs was far too recent to be called a good mother and Elena cries and cries and cries and…

You take a deep breath. 

“It’s okay,” you repeat, hating that you are lying to her. It’s not okay! None of it is okay. “Mama’s here, Lela, Mama’s here. You’re safe.” 

Your voice trembles, and she hears the weakness of your tone, unconvinced and uncomforted, failed by the woman who is supposed to guide her through all of her storms as steady as the sun’s movement each passing hour. Elena’s cries continue unabated, her small frame wracked with sobs as she clings to you, squeezing your skin tightly in a way that tells you that you are not enough. 

You, alone, are not enough for her. 

You can’t do this. 

With your arms holding her securely in place, you dip down slightly, grasping your phone from the tote bag it’s shaded in. It has been warmed by the sun anyway, but the heat of the screen as you press it to your ear is nothing in comparison to the burning in your chest, the fire her cries have ignited in a way that destroys everything in you. 

She continues to scream into your body as the dial tone buzzes and beeps three times, picked up on the fourth as if she has been counting the rings.

“Dime,” Alexia’s gruff voice huffs out, unimpressed that you have called her after refusing for the past month, seemingly always busy. Anya and Gio had given her excuses; you were busy talking to Leah, you were in a meeting, you didn’t want to speak to her. “Now is not a good time.” 

You only manage to breath out her name before she understands that something is seriously wrong. 

“Alexia, it’s Elena… she’s… she’s crying, she hasn’t stopped. Alexia, I-I don’t know what to do,” you admit, voice breaking. You know she will be able to hear the sobs coming from the toddler, her voice mighty and fierce despite how small she seems. “She hasn’t slept at all, and it just… happened. I can’t calm her down.” 

“Is she hurt?” 

“No, no,” you stutter, words tumbling out in a rush, “I don’t think so.” 

“What do you mean ‘hasn’t slept’? Not even a nap?” 

You shake your head, panicked. At Alexia’s lack of response, you remember that she is not here with you. You swallow your own sobs. “She’s been sharing a room with Nico and everything’s been fine, except, last night, she wouldn’t sleep. It was like she was terrified of it. She begged me to let her sleep with me, so I brought her into my bed and, I don’t know, it didn’t help. I tried to tire her out, read to her, sang to her, told her off, comforted her, but she wouldn’t and so I drifted off and she didn’t and we were relaxing today – it’s just us, today – and she started crying half an hour ago and hasn’t stopped.” 

As if on cue, Elena’s sobs grow louder, piercing through the phone line in a way that makes both you and Alexia feel sick. But Alexia has heard these before, and has kept them from you for a very good reason.

“She’s exhausted,” Alexia decides calmly. “She’ll cry herself to sleep.” 

“She doesn’t want to sleep!” you snap, frustrated. 

“She’s scared you are going to leave her. She usually… she usually cries for you, when she’s with me. I guess not seeing me has flipped it.” 

“Usually?” 

You pale. 

“Usually, Alexia?” 

You hear a sigh. “Do you want me to talk to her?” she asks, ignoring your horrified question. “Rub her back and keep touching her, so that she knows you’re there. I’ll… I’ll see if I can get her to calm down a bit so that you can – you need a breather, don’t you?” 

“My daughter is crying as though the world is about to end.” 

“Well, for her, it feels like it is. Put me on speaker.” 

You obey her instruction, reclining on the lounger so that Elena is now curled on top of you, wetting your chest with her tears. You place the phone near her head, both hands trying desperately to remind her that she is not alone. 

“Lela, petita, no estàs sola. Estoy aquí, y Mama también. Mai et deixarem.” 

Elena sniffles, surprised by the sound of Alexia’s voice. 

“That’s it, darling,” you encourage as the sobs are quickly replaced by resigned whimpering. Alexia continues to talk, hardly understandable as you let yourself succumb to your own emotions, your tears running down the sides of your face, hands still drawing circles on your daughter’s back. “That’s it,” you whisper. 

Alexia hangs up when she hears both of you breathing deeply, slowly, softly; fast asleep. 

…

She wipes the sweat from her brow, more exhausted from this than the gym session she had stepped out of. 

“What was that about?” Codi asks her curiously, taken in the blush in her captain’s cheeks, the slight dent in her lips from where she has bitten them. “Rather inappropriate to pick up a booty call when we’re this close,” she pinches her fingers together, “to the semis, no?” 

“Elena won’t sleep with her either,” Alexia says, if not because she needs to tell someone then because she relishes in the embarrassment that clouds Laia’s face as she hurries to take her comment back. 

“I thought you’d overcome it,” Laia replies sadly. “She was sleeping the whole night in her own bed, wasn’t she? That was only two months ago.” 

“She can’t deal with it, Codi.” Her sigh is a little more heartbroken than what is fitting for such a communal area, but Alexia does not care that her hunched shoulders have caught Irene’s attention, the defender well-acquainted with the signs of family issues. “She can’t deal with the back-and-forth. She is only three.”

“It has been a year,” comforts her friend. “Maybe she needs more time to adjust.” 

“Laia, you did not hear her. She cried like she was going to die, and I felt like I was going to die with her. You know how Y/n is with… You remember what it was like when Nico was a baby, when he wouldn’t stop crying. We were lucky that Elena didn’t have that, or that the doctors were more vigilant or whatever, but… I was keeping this from her for a reason.” 

Alexia doesn’t want to guilt you back to her. There is the slightest possibility that, if you were to know just how much Elena has been struggling while away from you, you would suffer through your heartbreak and pretend everything was fine, just to make her happy. Just to make their lives easier. 

But Alexia knows. Alexia knows you wake up every day and relive it again and again. She sees the repulsion in your eyes when you look at her – she saw it through the wine and the pleasure. 

She knows you smoke, she knows the rumours about the parties you go to are mostly true. She knows that the album is about her, and that the success didn’t taste sweet because it exploited your heartbreak. 

She knows that you don’t feel anything towards Leah Williamson, that you’re only trying to get her attention or fill her place. 

Alexia knows all of this, because you are a part of her. She knows how you feel like she knows where her right hand is, and, the worst part about that, is that she knows it is all entirely her fault. 

“Irene, where is Mateo?! Alexia needs her little person hugs!” shouts Laia, sympathy hidden by her teasing tone, which Alexia is very grateful for. “Get the nen, and get him now!” 

…

The unopened ring box travels with you to Australia. 

Spain’s failure to lose has led them to the World Cup Final, and while you are going to support your own country, Elena and Nico are dressed in ALEXIA jerseys, yellow and red stripes painted onto their chubby cheeks. 

You had found out, after the Elena incident, that your friends had been lying to Alexia for your peace of mind, or so they claimed. 

You don’t know how to tell Alexia that you called Leah before you left for Bali and told her that you couldn’t be with her. Or that Gio and Anya had been meddling, going as far as to calculatedly gift Nico an iPad in preparation for a summer of trying to save you from a broken heart. 

So… you send her a heads-up that you’ll be attending the final, wish her luck (but not too much, for the sake of the Lionesses), and ensure the children are down for naps so that they have energy to party late into the night regardless of the outcome. 

As a desperate, short-term solution while separate from Alexia, you had your manager seek out the best paediatrician in Bali and get a reasonable prescription for melatonin, just so that Elena can sleep. You plan to let Alexia focus on her tournament and bring up the issue when preseason starts, aware that drugging the child to sleep is definitely not the best option. 

With another hour of sleep in their systems, you have time to re-pack your suitcases, ready to leave the next day. 

And you are reminded of your unopened gift. 

Alexia had said to open it when you were home, but you reason that home is with your children, and home, due to your career, is often also in the hotel suites in foreign countries. 

You root through the piles of neatly-folded clothes, searching for the box you had buried at the bottom. Its velvet edges are soft under the wrapping paper and the box is sitting in the palm of your hand, naked now, before you realise what you are doing. 

The lid flicks open, and you prepare yourself to see something shiny, some insanely expensive diamond that certainly won’t fix all that she has done. 

But you brace for nothing, for inside the box lies only a slip of paper. 

A boarding pass from London Stansted to Barcelona-El Prat Airport, decorated in aged, black ink.

Scrawled on top of the flight details is something much more valuable than the entrance into First Class the paper allows. 

Eleven digits. 

Your old phone number. 

You remember this. 

It was the night you first kissed Alexia, or, rather, she kissed you. You’d been at some FC Barcelona event, and you’d gone outside because you had realised it might not have been acceptable for Alexia to hit on you in front of all those people, no matter how much she had wanted to. 

You’d smoked to get her attention, to get her to tell you off. To start a conversation. And you had loved her from the minute she kissed you, so tentative, so unsure. 

The boarding pass is sentimental, and you are amazed at the condition it is in, or even the fact that she still has it. 

You drop the box, plucking the paper from the slit it had been situated in, unfolding it, examining it with tears in your eyes. 

You turn it over in your palm, re-acquainting yourself with your memories from that evening. 

And you notice fresh, blue ink written on the back of the boarding pass. 

It’s Alexia’s handwriting, this time, though neater than usual, having clearly taken care to form her letters correctly. 

Can we start again? it says.

There is a drawing of three stick women, short dresses, high ponytails, too. One is circled, an arrow leaping out of the wobbly shape. That one is labelled with your name, and, underneath, ‘esta es mi favorita y me casaré con ella algún día’. 

Marta once told you, at the expense of her club captain, that that had been Alexia’s only comment about you back when they were all obsessed with your break-out girl group and could never talk about anything else. 

Twenty-nine-year-old Alexia Putellas knows that her mistakes have lost her many battles, but twenty-nine-year-old Alexia Putellas also knows that her love will win her the war. Because there you are, and nothing is worth fighting for more than you. 

(to get back to the main post)

[merakiui]

MERA IVE BEEN HAVING THIS THOUGHT AND I THINK YOURE THE RIGHT PERSON TO SHARE IT WITH BC ITS SO PERFECT FOR THE TWEELS 😭

A long time ago, back when i was a teenager and still a wattpad girly, I read this one really good story called "Family Comes First" about a family of cannibals that lives in the middle of nowhere. They only keep boy children who are born, no daughters. Whenever a boy turns a certain age (I think 21 but I cant really rmbr), the father goes out to the nearest city, interviews girls under the guise of offering them a job, and kidnaps the best one as a birthday gift and bride. The mother-in-law teaches the new girl how to be a good wife (cleaning, cooking that strange meat, etc.), and the husband is otherwise responsible for his wife, to the point of selecting and laying out her clothing every morning. The ultimate honour is to birth a son, and so the husbands are CONSTANTLY trying to get their wives knocked up. I can't help but imagine Jade and Floyd in a story like this, it suits them perfectlyyyyy

In the book, one of the boys ended up catching feelings for brother's wife (the main character) instead of his own, and it causes fights serious drama in the family. This works so well with the recent ideas about Jade stealing Floyd's cute little wifey except it would be even better for them because they're twins and Jade can pull all his nasty tricks 😭 maybe when she finally gets knocked up with a son, they won't know who it belongs to, because he looks just like his daddy, but the potential daddies look the sammmeee OTZ

Oh oh oh and imagine if reader tries to escape and the family decides to let her try. Let her have fun. Hell, they even join in on the fun. She was blindfolded when they brought her and she's never been out of the house before, so she doesn't know her way around the woods, whereas the men in this family have been hunting humans for sport and food in these woods for generations. Now she's lost in the dark forest with daddy leech and the tweels rapidly closing in on her. She's going to be taught a lesson after they drag her home. After all, she lost the game, and losers never get rewards >_<

OHHH!!! Omg that concept is perfect for the tweels!!!! And they would absolutely draw out the chase in the forest just to scare you even more. Maybe then, after spending an entire day and night being hunted like a wild animal, you'll learn your home is with them. There's no point in running from your family, after all.

Hehe running from the three of them and you injure yourself, so now you're even more panicked because what if they can smell the cut on your leg? What if they can hear your pained grunts as you drag yourself along, limping through the forest? >_< omg and it doesn't matter who finds you; it's going to be frightening either way. Floyd who drags you out of your hiding place by the ankles, or Jade who stands over you as he patiently waits for you to take notice of him. Or Papa Leech wrapping you up in big, strong, scarred arms to carry you back to the house. Maybe you're kicking and screaming all the way, and it's useless to struggle because there's no one else out here for stretches. Just you and your family, who care so very much for you. You should be grateful! Mr. Leech's sons fight over you to be named your husband. Aren't you lucky to have the two of them? Most of all, aren't you lucky you're alive and not on their murderous menu?

AAAAAA and Papa Leech picks your clothes for you going forwards! They were far too patient and lenient with you before, far too forgiving. Now you're living under a new schedule, a fresh set of rules. Your clothes are selected for you, and your meals are prepared in advance (gone are the days in which you were given choices; each meal is healthy and has properties meant to boost your fertility). When you aren't learning to be the perfect housewife, you're getting bent over every possible surface and bred by the twins. Or if the twins can't behave, then maybe Papa Leech ought to knock you up instead........... thinking thoughts.

In conclusion, the entire family is crazy and you're stuck with them forever. orz

[mandomaterial]

I LOVE your Miguel x Reader fic so much! Can we please get another Miguel x Reader where they are complete opposites again, but she isn't use to seeing a scary/violent Miguel. So when she finally sees him like that she gets a little scared and Miguel has to reassure his little angel that he would never behave this way with her. Fluff please because i love your fluff fics!

OFC BBY! I changed it a little so that reader didn’t only see it but also experience it, yk? U’ll see :3 I hope you like it pookie!

Miguel scaring and accidentally hurting you

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You were on your way to visit your boyfriend of a few months at work, with a little Tupperware box of fresh cookies in hand, you knew that he was Spider-Man and you knew all about the spider-verse. You also knew that Miguel worked very hard to keep the society intact and that it put an immense strain on his mood and health.

He’d come home all grumpy and annoyed, just wanting to cuddle you to death, he wouldn’t even let you get up to make him some food or treats, so today you decided to bring him something to cheer him up. You’d made a variety of cookies, some frosted and others shaped like animals and stars, to some people it might seem like something from a kids birthday party where a trottle ran off with the sprinkles and went crazy with them but it was just how you liked to bake. You knew that some people thought you were weird for dressing in bright colours and having fun hairstyles, sometimes older people would whisper when you walked past them but you didn’t mind, to you the worst possible thing would be being called normal or plain. You didn’t let anyone stop you from buying or making the clothes you thought were cute and today you decided to show off the new skirt you made. You spent all of last week sitting at your desk with your sticker covered sewing machine, securing the fabric and hemming the edges.

It was truly adorable and you loved how it framed your butt and thighs! You matched it with the off white cashmere sweater that Miguel gifted you after only two moths of dating. He knew that you liked cute things so he had little bows added to the sleeves and it warmed your heart every time you thought of his attentiveness. You packed the cookies into a little shoulder bag and set off.

It didn’t take long for you to get to the main office and there you almost crashed into Jessica who you always enjoyed having a little chat with, you always asked how her baby was and if everything was going as planned at HQ, but today she decided to give you a little warning, Miguel had been a little agitated and stressed today, because Gwen got stuck in a mess and brought back a Teenage boy who was never supposed to know about the Spider-verse and how said boy was causing a bit of trouble. You thought nothing much of it and continued looking for him.

Your first stop was his main office, to be honest it looked like the bat cave, with a floating platform that was his favourite. It always made you giggle when you compared Miguel to batman, but he wasn’t there, so you decided to just walk around and see if you’d find him, when you suddenly heard a loud bang. Instinctively you whipped around, running to a large window and what you saw shook you to your core.

It was thousands of spider people chasing after what seemed to be a small figure in a black suit, it was a sight that you’d never seen before, was everything alright? Was that an anomaly? Why were so many chasing it? Millions of thoughts rushed through your head as you sprinted down the stairs to the ground floor to get a better look, but everything was moving so fast that you lost sight of them as that disappeared behind another building.

You rushed through the halls, trying to catch up with them and somehow you ended up in the room with the go-home machine, all while everyone was surrounding Miguel and the young boy who was in the midst of being “sent home” and Miguel had his talons dug into the electric walls of the capsule, almost tearing it apart while growling and yelling. You’d never seen him like this, as if he were a feral creature hunting its prey with cruel intent. Your body started shaking a little as you took a small step back, maybe this was a really bad time. In that moment the capsule fully closed itself, sending the teen home and leaving Miguel seething with rage, ready to demolish anything he got his hands on, when he suddenly noticed his wach showing signs of an anomaly or something that wasn’t supposed to be at headquarters standing only a couple meters behind him.

Without a second thought and with pure rage and will for distraction Miguel lunges backward, his vision blurry with fury as he sunk his claws into the floor, propelling himself closer and closer to his new victim. All the while you didn’t even have time to think, fear filled every fiber of your already tensed body, he made the decision in split-seconds, not even realizing that it was you, his partner, as he rushed closer to you. You started stumbling back, screaming his name, but nothing helped clear his mind. Miguel stretched out his right arm, talons out as far as they could go, ready to tear you to shreds.

His usually gentle fingers wrapped themselves tightly around your neck, nicking you and squeezing tight, you felt him almost crush your throat but that wasn’t the end of it. Miguel flexed his arm, lifting you up into the air and just as he was about slam you down with all his force, he had a moment of clarity, his heat almost stopped as he recognized your face, albeit it was contorted in ear and pain. He noticed how tight his grip on your neck was and how you were scratching at his hand for a single breath, as he cut off your air way. His eyes widernd, fear and regret washing over him. Instead of glamming you to the ground, he quickly let go of your neck and pressed you to his chest. He felt your tears wet his suit and he heard you cries. Your cries were pain filled and your voice hoarse as he tried to comfort you by rocking you back and forth gently. He knew that it was his fault. What had he done? What if you never wanted to see him again?

He did something he swore to never let happen. He hurt you. He made you fear him. Miguel commanded everyone to leave, so that the two of you could calm down and as soon as it was only the two of you, he collapsed to his knees. It was like your tears were never ending and your fingers weakly grabbed onto him, barely able to hold on as you hid your face in his chest.

“I’m sorry…” Miguel whispered, his voice cracking as he continued muttering “I’m so sorry.. please forgive me.. I didn’t mean t-to…” he whimpered, but it was like you didn’t hear it, way too caught up in the scenario that played out just minutes ago. Your heart was going a mile a minute and you were hyperventilating, not being able to calm your breathing. Minutes passed and Miguel was still rocking back and forth, as if comforting a crying child, the horrid scenes kept replaying in his mind and he didn’t know how to make it better.

Your cries slowly turned to whines and hiccups, you moved around in his lap, trying to find a comfortable position when he gently lifted your chin to look him in the eyes, he opened his mouth but said nothing for a few seconds until he finally whimpered “I love you, you know that, right?” He pulled you into a close hug, not even waiting for your response, he squeezed you as close to him as he could, his anger long gone. “P-please don’t leave me…” he continued, he sounded utterly broken and that only made you shed more tears, you didn’t want to be sad, you didn’t want him to be sad, this was just a stupid accident right? He didn’t mean it…

You nodded a little and tried to speak, but nothing audible came out, only whimpers and whines. Miguel pulled the two of you apart, gently placing his large hand onto the crown of your head, carefully lacing his fingers between your hair as he looked at your little form that was dwarfed by his own. “It was and accident… please forgive me…” he muttered as his eyebrows scrunched together in regret. You replied with a little nod, your lower lip still wobbling a little. Miguel caressed your hair a bit before moving lower to your neck, he pushed your hair back and revealed a couple red scratches going almost all the way around. He felt so ashamed that he’d hurt you, that he was the cause of your pain. Ge gently brushed his fingers over them and you let oust a little wince. He’d take you to the med bay right after this, he promised.

Only then did he notice what you were wearing, first he looked at the sweater. It was the one he had custom made for you, when he saw it in the store window he thought about how’d you look like a fluffy baby alpaca in it and he just had to get it for you. He touched the soft fabrics and slid his grand down your arm, intertwining his fingers with your slender ones. Next he noticed the skirt, ha hadn’t seen it in your closet or anywhere else?. Did you buy it? No it fits too well for that… you probably made it. He couldn’t help but let a soft smile cross his face. The room was almost silent so he tries to shift your attention to a different topic “Did you make this?” He gently rubbed the b fabric between two of his fingers.

You looked around quite confused for a moment until you found what he was talking about, you rubbed your eyes a little and gave him another nod “y-yea, i finished yesterday.” Your voice was barely audible and littered with hiccups.

“It’s cute” he replied, placing his hands on your hips and shifting your body so that you were sitting sideways on his lap with your head leaning on his pec. He wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled closer, almost purring. You liked sitting like this, on his lap and utterly surrounded by him, it made you feel small and soft, like a precious delicate possession of his.

You could feel how worried he was, it washed off him like waves and you wanted to make him feel better, so you cupped his jaw and whispered “I’m okay Miguel, you didn’t hurt me” as soon as he heard, you could almost physically hear the stones dropping from his heart and his spirit lifting. The two of you were definitely feeling better but there was still a bit left to talk about, so Miguel decided that it was time to leave. He rose to his feet but kept you in his arms, you rolled over a little and decided to play with his hair as he walked out of the now silent room. Your fingers wrapped themselves around the little short curls at the back of his neck, it was one of your favourite parts of his hair because it was so much more curly than the longer pieces.

Miguel felt your little fingers and could stop the lopsided smile that formed on his face, sure he still had work to do, but to be honest, for once in his life, he didn’t care. He’d do it tomorrow and surely get an ear full from Jessica.

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Once Miguel stepped through the doorway a long sigh left his chapped lips, he still felt quite bad about what happened today, but he knew that you’d forgiven him and that you weren’t upset. You fell asleep in the car, so he decided to be the good boyfriend he was and carry you up to his penthouse. You often slept over at his place because you liked the big windows and loved his comfy king sized bed. Normally you fell asleep earlier than him and once he got to bed, he’d find you in your cute pink jammies, laying starfish with one of your legs over the blanket and the pillows long thrown off the sides. He couldn’t help but snap a little picture, you were just too adorable.

So now he careful layer you down on the side you preferred to sleep on. He took off your socks and reached under your shirt to unclasp your bra and pull it off you so you wouldn’t wake up in pain, before covering you with his blanket. Once you were tucked in, he strode over to one of his cupboards in the bathroom and pulled out one of the first aid kits (he has multiple stocked) and pulled out a salve. He rummaged around further until he found your favourite bandaids, the ones with the cute shapes on them and walked back to his bedroom.

You were sleeping soundly as he sat down right next to you, careful not to dip the mattress too much, he gently stroked your hair back so that he could tend to the little wounds on your neck. Guilt shot through him again once they were revealed, t be honest they weren’t even that bad, but he knew how sensitive to violence you were and he knew that the scare was probably worse than the pain. Nevertheless he dipped his fingers in the salve and started softly rubbing it over the red marks and covered them with the bandaids after. After a few minutes he was satisfied and snuggled up to you, making you the little spoon, he wrapped his arms around your wast to pull you close. And just like that, all cuddled up, the two of you fell asleep, meeting again in your dreams.

[smartycvnt]

Voices*

Title: Voices Pairing: Randy Orton x Reader MINORS DNI, 18+ Warnings: smut R WC: 1433

Randy couldn't describe the way that seeing Y/n made him feel. She was pretty, and everybody backstage could acknowledge that safely without risking a beatdown from any of the Rhodes men. Cody was Randy's friend, and there were lines that Randy wasn't going to cross, but Y/n was tempting. There weren't any legal issues, just that of the bro code. Randy knew that they could be smart about it and sneak around, but a part of Randy believed that Y/n deserved more than midnight meetings in hotel rooms. Randy wanted to spoil Y/n with all of the nicest things that he could afford and show her off to everybody during the day just to fuck her in the privacy of their hotel rooms at night.

"What are you doing in here?" Cody jumped in front of Y/n as she made her way towards the bar with everybody else. Randy snuck at peak at her over Cody's shoulder and immediately felt his body start to get hot. Y/n had always sort of dressed to fade into the background, but tonight, she was the star. The black cocktail dress was definitely shorter than it needed to be, but Randy couldn't complain. He just had to hope that he wouldn't get caught staring at Y/n's legs or the cleavage popping up from the neckline of her dress.

"I'm getting a drink. Don't be such a stick in the mud, even Dustin is letting me have fun tonight. I'm not going to be 21 for much longer," Y/n told him. Cody grumbled and sat back down with Randy and Ted. Randy swore for a moment that Cody had said something to him, but Randy wasn't listening. He couldn't stop staring over at Y/n as she swayed her hips to the music playing over shitty speakers while she waited for her drink.

"Hey assholes, stop staring at my sister!" Cody snapped as he kicked both men under the table. "She shouldn't even be in here. She should be with the Divas at the club or something."

"Pfft, like you'd ever let her run around some club on her own. Besides, she said it herself, she's 21 man. There's not a lot you can do," Ted pointed out. Cody sat back and pouted as he watched his sister flirt with the bartender for drinks. "The best you can do is keep her away from some old creep."

"Or two young ones," Cody muttered under his breath as he looked between Ted and Randy. Randy rolled his eyes and stood up to go play pool. He needed to distance himself from Y/n or else he knew that he would end up doing something to jeopardize his friendship with Cody. The bar started to fill in a bit more as the night dragged on, and for a moment, Randy had nearly forgotten about Y/n and Cody angrily watching her from the bar.

"Can I play a round?" Y/n asked as she leaned against the edge of the table. Randy had no idea how long Y/n had been standing there watching him unnoticed. He hated sometimes how sneaky and quiet she could be whenever she wanted to be. Randy couldn't imagine trying to be Cody as a teenager having to worry about Y/n catching him sneaking out at night. Although, Randy had to admit that Cody was probably a much better behaved teenager than he had been.

"I don't see why not," Randy said as he took a step back to let Y/n take her shot. He had been able to look away when she bent over the edge of the table, but it meant that he missed the perfect shot. Randy glanced down when he heard the ball go into the pocket. Y/n smirked up at him as she moved over towards where he was. This time, she bent over right in front of him. Randy had to back up a little to avoid touching her, even though that was the last thing he wanted to do. Randy wanted to toss aside the pool sticks and take Y/n right there on that table, but he'd get them arrested for sure.

"Careful, Cody might kill you if he sees you staring," Y/n teased. \\"I was just thinking the same thing," Randy muttered.

"I don't mind you staring. God knows that I've been trying to get your attention for years," Y/n said as she took her shot. Randy's eyes were practically bulging out of his head when Y/n looked back over at him. She laughed as she placed her hand on his chest. "What's wrong? Are the voices telling you to do terrible things to me?"

Randy swallowed as he turned around to get a sip of his beer. Y/n had very obviously rattled him, which made her win against him very easy. Randy was too distracted to be upset about losing, which Y/n knew meant something. Most of the guys were distracted amongst themselves, which was when Y/n made her official move. It was easy enough to sneak out of the bar unnoticed for Y/n once she noticed her brother talking to one of the ring announcer prospects. Randy had snuck out from the back of the bar and met Y/n in the side parking lot, where she was already waiting with a cab.

"You're a lot more trouble than I remember," Randy joked as he got into the cab with her.

"You didn't know me, you knew Cody's perfect little baby sister. Everybody grows up and changes, we're not going to be these people in five years," Y/n pointed out. Randy knew that she had a point. They might never speak of this again or it could be the start of the rest of their lives. He'd have to change the story if they ever got married because Cody and Dustin would have both murdered him if they found out.

The sense of danger as Randy followed Y/n to her hotel room did absolutely nothing to clear Randy's head. Y/n was already hot in Randy's mind, but that dress was turning him on more than any other clothing on a woman could. He was practically ready to start humping her leg by the time that they got to her room and locked the door. Randy was pawing at Y/n's dress like it was the only thing standing between him and buried treasure. Y/n could do nothing except for giggle as Randy's hands eagerly explored her body. She had always known Randy was attractive, but she hadn't really been attracted to him for much longer than a few months. Before that, she had found the bad boy schtick a little immature.

"I don't care who kills me, this is a body worth dying for," Randy muttered as he stared down at Y/n's naked body spread out on her bed. Randy's cock strained against the fabric of his underwear, practically throbbing to be released.

"Take them off and join me. I didn't bring you all this way up here to be stared at," Y/n said. She wanted to shrink back, but she also knew how hot Randy found her confidence. He did as he was told without hesitation. Y/n had been certain that he'd be a bit more of a tease, but she appreciated his cooperation greatly. Randy climbed over Y/n's body and slowly settled a bit of his weight on top of her. Y/n liked the rush of being pinned down beneath Randy's body, but also the knowledge that he'd get off of her the moment that she expressed her discomfort.

There was none of that, however. She continuously pulled him closer to her throughout the night. She urged Randy to be rough with her at times, but also indulged him to use a softer touch at others. Y/n was certain that at least one of her room neighbors could hear her, but she didn't care. She didn't care about anything other than the way that Randy touched her. He quickly adapted to the ways that Y/n liked being touched and treated in bed. He was rough, but still respectful. He wasn't one for many words in bed, but he did let Y/n know just how good she made him feel. Hours after entering, the two of them had finally stopped, but the air was still thick with sex well into the next morning.

[riyva]

nutella on you. | j.jh

pairings. jung jaehyun x fem!reader (ft. johnny & yuta) genre. fluff, romance, angst (if u squint?) warnings. explicit content, minors don't interact, food play, oral (m), implied sex summary. you were pregnant with twins, and cravings are kicking in.

you purred when you woke up. you glanced at the clock; it was already 4 p.m. hmm.. ‘kay! time for snacks. you stood up and went to the body mirror. you admired how big your tummy was. you’re carrying twins. your husband, jaehyun, was in bliss when he found out you’re pregnant with twins. it's been a year since you were married, and you’ve been trying to conceive a child, and finally, you guys made it, making love three times a day, didn’t know you’ll be having two. and, in four months left, you’ll be carrying them in your arms.

you went straight to the kitchen to look for something. when you wake up, you already think of having nutella with a banana. on your disappointment, you didn’t see one in your pantry. you thought of your husband; he’ll be home in an hour from now. you immediately texted him to buy some.

you: hey, honey! would you mind if you could buy me some nutella and bananas? jaehyun: hello to my beautiful wife, mrs. jung! how’s your nap? jaehyun: yeah, sure. i will get it before going home to you. you: i slept for three hours you know. gladly, our babies didn’t do anything complicated to me. you: alright, take care! i love you. jaehyun: i love you more, mi amor.

on the other hand, jaehyun was smiling all through his eyes, showing his deep and cute dimples. he's always excited about going home to you. nothing could complete his every single day without you in his arms. for the five months of your pregnancy, you don't always send off your husband to work every morning due to morning sickness. it always makes you awful.

but jaehyun never forgets to bring you on dates, travels with you. to spend time with you even though he has lots of work on his hand, and he always makes you feel loved every day. he always brings you your favorite flowers, tulips & lavender, with or without any occasion. well, he is treating you like a queen, pampering you every day. you're his other half, the only person he's inlove and growing old with. you're his wife. you know, he is a perfect husband and will be an ideal father to your children. he always wanted a kid since he was a teenager, but now, he's having two.

since your cravings can wait, you eat wheat bread before going to the living room to watch movies while waiting for him to get home. for dinner, you heat the food that you cooked for lunch. as you sit on the couch, you caress your big tummy, and you felt your babies movements, “woah.” as you felt a twitch inside you. they must be having fun.

minutes to an hour have passed; you heard his car parked in the garage. "i'm home, mi amor!” he shouted from the door. "i'm here, jay!” the moment he heard your voice, he immediately went to you with a smile, showing his adorable dimple, and he put you in a warm hug. he kissed your forehead, nose, and lips.

"how's mommy, hmm?” you pulled away from the hug and you sat in between his legs on the couch. you took his hands to caress your belly. “can you feel them right now?” as your babies moved it left him in awe. few months left, he will carry his little angels. “i see. they were behaving.” he went to your tummy and whispered, “please be good angels, okay? don't make it too hard for mommy, okay?” they moved as their reply earned giggles from both of you, and he captured your lips. damn, i miss my wife so bad. he broke the kiss and stood up, "c'mon, momma. let's prepare your cravings.” and you followed him into the kitchen. “you miss me that much, huh?” he dramatically acted and giggled. “so bad!”

he did prepare your nutella and bananas, and viola, cravings satisfied! but you still want more… what if i try it on him? you shook your head with the thought. nope, he's busy.

the night has come, and you're prepared to sleep but you saw jaehyun in glasses was still working in his office. you knocked, “hey, come on. time to bed.” he took a glance from you. “you go first, mommy. i'm still finishing some reports.” you walked towards him, and sat on his lap. he welcomed your warm hug to give him the energy to finish the reports. “am i heavy?” you're curious as your fingers ran through his blonde hair. “nope.” he immediately said. "don't lie, silly! three were sitting on you, three.”

jaehyun shut his eyes as he felt his member getting hard. he can't help it because his beautiful wife was sitting on his lap. “hmm, wife? can you ahm..” jaehyun can't continue as you slightly moved and you felt something under his boxers. “are you?” you asked to confirm. “yes.” he breathlessly replied.

instead of removing yourself from his lap, “do you want to—” you took his fingers to your lips, “—put it here?” he gulped as he nodded to your question. you carefully stood up, phew, my body felt so heavy, and gave him a kiss. “alright, i'll just go get something.” you giggled as you were on your way to getting the nutella.

your eyes twinkled at the thought of eating nutella with his raw banana. you slightly tapped your tummy. “hey, babies. mommy and daddy might do something tonight.” you whispered. might need some space, lol.

you took a pillow from your bedroom before going into his office, and to your surprise, his boxers were gone. “wow, who's excited?” he just smiled sheepishly as you shyly raised his right hand, you dumped the pillow on the floor and kneeled between his legs; you saw his hard dick sprung free reaching the top of his belly button. jaehyun saw the nutella that he bought. “what are you going to do with that, momma?”

you didn't say anything but you took a spoonful of nutella and wrapped it around his cock. his eyes widened a little as he felt the coldness, and he muttered a curse. fuck. "gonna eat nutella with your raw banana, lovey. you up?” it was messy but jaehyun don't have any other choice but to give in. he doesn't want to take a cold shower either.

you've wanted to do this since he got home, and finally, he's sitting in front of you. "bon appétit!" it was messy, but for you, your sight was mouth-watering and you didn't waste any time devouring him. his head fell back as you licked the tip. you took him whole careso as fully not to scratch your teeth on his v, and thick length. no wonder we made twins, lol. his hand went to grip your short hair as he help you to move your head.

“fuck, mi amor. grow your hair, please.” you just hummed as you continued licking and sucking him off, leaving no nutella in waste. his hips thrust carefully not to gag you. his movements were slowly given that you're pregnant. as much as possible, he doesn't want to hurt you. after a few pumps, you pulled out leaving a popping sound.

“dad, sorry. i can't make you cum like this. my jaw and knees hurt.” his brows furrowed.

"you're gonna leave it like that?” you giggled as you stood up, removed your underwear, and bent over his desk. “you and your hormones are insane.” i know, jay. i know. lol!

“well, at least i left no nutella on your cock. now, fuck me please.”

after 4 months, you’re already giving birth to your twins. jaehyun walked back and forth outside the delivery room to calm his nerves as a soon-to-be dad. “dude, seriously, can you sit down?” johnny said. “i can’t, shit. i think i’m going insane.” he tried to sit down but he can’t. “it’s okay, bro. they will be fine.” then, there's yuta who tapped his shoulder to comfort him. fuck, self. calm down. your wife and babies will be fine.

a nurse came out and called him, “hello! mr. jeong! you can now go inside.” he took a glance to johnny before going in. “gotta, go!”

the moment he entered the delivery room, he went directly to you. he kissed your forehead and he told you, “you did well, momma. thank you & i love you so much.” you smiled weakly as you answered him back. “i love you, too, and our babies.” jaehyun never fails to put you first, it's always you.

you gave birth to a girl and a boy. you and jaehyun named them as yoonah & yoonoh. you both can't explain the happiness that you finally carried them in your arms. jaehyun held you as your babies were sleeping sweetly in your chest. what a loving sight to him, and he's more than thankful.

“i will love you forever & ever until the day i die, and i will be a good husband, and a father to yoonah & yoonoh.”

i love you, always remember that.

© riyva

[nteyamsully]

dad!neteyam were teenage reader gets into a fight and shes like really fucking angry and only neteyam can calm her down and its just loads off comfort and cutesy shit to heal my daddy issues

𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫

thank you for the request anon ! instead of teenage reader, i decided to make the reader as the mom but it still focuses on neteyam and his daughter. i just think it'd be cute too to have it from the mom perspective. i hope you enjoyed this <3 a part 2 is coming !

summary they say a fathers' first daughter is a female version of him. neteyam begs to differ because his princess has way too much fire in her than he did.

pairing dad! neteyam x oc! daughter, neteyam x reader

word count 1.7k

warnings edited, neteyam just being a dad girl, suggestive content, just youngest children doing what they want, mentions of bullying, violence such as punching, blood

glossary yawntutsyìp (darling), pa'li (direhorse)

PART 1 ; PART 2 (wip)

You always had believed that having four kids that weren't too old apart would be a wonderful family balance. The second child would have someone to look up to but also have the responsibility of looking after their younger siblings, the third child would not have to rely only on one older sibling but rather two, and the youngest would be able to learn and receive different insights on things from their older siblings. 

Neteyam said that your ideas were always beautiful and well thought. He loved the idea of having a big family with you. And the two of you did. 

Nutxe, your oldest child. While he has his mother's attributes, he behaves precisely like his father. His personality always makes you think of Neteyam. Ki'täm, your second child, was a blessing from Eywa a year later. Identical to his father in every way. Your mate has always made jokes about how three Neteyams would protect you because of how each of his sons were like him. 

But you didn't stop there; two years later, you had another boy. Ateyo, your son who resembles you. Unlike his older brothers, he would rather spend his time in the deepest part of the forest. Violence had never been his thing, so becoming a warrior didn't come naturally to him. 

A year later, Lili was born. Neteyam loves his sons with his whole heart, but when he his daughter came out of your womb, a new sense of protectiveness awakened in him. It was already clear to you that your babygirl would be a daddy’s girl.  

She was constantly spoiled by Neteyam. He was always giving in to her doe eyes, which she used against him since she knew her father would never say no to her. Even as she was growing, she continued using the same tactic. 

Your now-teenage children were leaving the hut as you watched them and spoke enthusiastically about being approved to stay a litte late after eclipse. You sighed disapprovingly and looked at your partner. 

Incongruously, Neteyam smiled. He moved up to you, his chin resting on your shoulder as he encircled your waist with his arms. “They have grown,” he solemnly said. 

“No, Mr. Sully,” you laughed. “You do not get to escape this by throwing the trump card. You have to learn how to say no to Lili.” 

“I cant believe she is thirteen now,” he sighs.

“Neteyam!” you exclaimed, slapping his hand that rested on your hip. 

Your mate chuckles, digging his face on your neck. “I hear you, yawntutsyìp. But know it is difficult when our daughter is exactly like you. Ateyo doesn’t use it against me, but Lili does.” 

“And she knows it. It almost feels like if our youngest child attempts murder, you would let her get away with it because she is your favourite.” 

Neteyam pouted as he took a step back, holding your shoulders gently as he turns you around. “Lili would never attempt murder.” 

“You know what I mean.” 

“Enough.” Neteyam pulls you closer to him by tugging the band of your loincloth. “The children wont be here soon. Let’s do something fun.” 

Your hands rested on his chest. Before a word could leave out of your mouth, he pressed his lips against yours. You didn’t realise how much you’ve missed having moments like this with Neteyam. It has been far too long.

“Cant believe that you managed to get Dad to say yes,” smiled Ki'täm.  

Because their father was aware of the risks posed in Pandora, it was occasionally challenging to win his permission. As lovely as the forest is, it is also dangerous. 

Nutxe scoffed, “That’s because this little manipulative baby sister of ours did her magic.” He playfully glared at her before pinching her cheeks. 

Lili hissed and slapped his hand away. “Be thankful that I had dad say yes because I’m about to make your life more exciting than it was when you were my age,” she says proudly. 

While rolling his eyes, Ateyo kept silent. His sister having anything she wants was never something he liked. At least when she hasn't done anything to deserve it. Never did their father treat them unfairly, though.

Neteyam promised that he would treat all of his children equally. The intense pressure from his father that he experienced as a teenager was something he didn't want with his children. While Neteyam adores his father, he can't help but admit that he was cruel at times.

Ki'täm noticed his younger brothers’ silence, observing how a frown formed on his face. He wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer. “What is wrong? I thought you would love this.” 

Ateyo clicked his tongue. “Mom didn’t look like she was happy about it. And you,” he looked at Lili, “stop acting so spoiled.” 

Lili rolled her eyes. “This again. Jealous that I get to do whatever I want?” 

“Why would I be jealous for being a spoiled brat?” he argued. 

“What the hell is your problem?” she exclaimed. “You should thank me that you get to explore the forest around more.” 

Ateyo clenched his jaw, holding himself back from raising his voice. He could feel his anger rising by the second and he knew the choice to keep his mouth shut is better. Lili never backs down from anything she sees as a challenge, and by the looks of her face, she sees her argument with her brother as one too. 

He always had to be the bigger person between them.

Nutxe pushes his arm in between them quickly. “Stop. You are attracting other people,” he whispered harshly before looking around, making sure that his grandfather isn’t on sight to witness this.  

Jake had witnessed far too many of their disputes and had reprimanded them much too frequently when they're involved in violent tussles with other kids. He is Olo’eyktan, it is his duty to make sure there is peace and harmony within the clan. It's not simple at all, especially with his grandchildren causing problems all around. 

Just as Nutxe started to feel relieved that both of his siblings listened to him, it disappeared immediately when he heard a voice laced with venom speak up. 

“Don’t bother, Nutxe. Your baby sister loves all the attention.” 

Risei. She was the bully of the clan. When Lili was a little girl, she witnessed her wrongfully verbally abusing a young na'vi. They were ridiculed only for their personality trait and shyness. Lili reacted angrily to the Risei's audacity by confronting her, however it didn't end happily ever after. And that was how their rivalry began. 

“Do not start, Risei,” Lili snarled, her fists clenched. Ki'täm held her forearm and urged her to walk away, but she didn't budge.

Risei mockingly laughed, “Is that supposed to be a threat? You look like a baby pa’li who reacts when they don’t get what they want!” She peered over her little group, seeing them chuckle at her words which made her ego boost. 

Ki'täm begged, “Lili.” He didn’t want to get in trouble yet, not when he wanted to explore the forest after eclipse. 

“Ah, I forget,” Risei snapped her fingers in fake realization, “You get what you want. You must not know how it feels like, is it why you’re acting like this? Did daddy not give you what you want?” 

And something snapped in the youngest sibling. Lili pushed Ki'täm's hold off of her and scowled at Risei. The girl was too busy laughing with her companions to notice her menacing aura. Risei was caught off guard when she felt something hard make contact with her nose, which caused her to lose her footing and collapse to the ground. 

“I am so sick of you,” Lili seethed. She didn’t give her time to process and hovered above Risei, continuously slamming her fist on to her. 

Risei’s friends hissed and were about to grab Lili, but Ki'täm quickly wrapped his arms on one of them to stop them from getting near. “Nutxe, Ateyo, grab the other two!” he yelled. 

Ateyo groaned. Following what his older brother instructed was not the best course of action, but at this point it seemed to be the only option. If a girl attacked his sister, he would gladly be violent for her, but he knows his father and grandfather would skin him alive. As a result, he followed Ki'täm's suggestion. 

Nutxe rolled his eyes at their stupidity. He quickly stepped in front of one of Risei’s friends, preventing them from interfering. “Do not,” he ordered, which thankfully they listened. He turned back to his sister, seeing that she had completely executed her anger. 

“Lili!” yelled Nutxe. He attempted to pull his sister off her by the shoulders, however, his efforts were futile because she withheld great strength. She’s not recognised as potentially the next best warrior of their clan for no reason. 

But the calls of her name were unheard to her. All she could see is red. Truthfully, she wasn’t angry with Ateyo. Her disagreements with him were monotonous and repetitious, which irritated her. Risei had always bothered her and each time, she bottles up her anger to refrain herself from going feral. Bottling all that anger was clearly a bad idea because it still exploded violently. 

“WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!” A loud and authorative voice boomed. Unfortunately, it didn’t stop Lili. “Hey! That’s enough!” A pair of strong arms engulfed around her, carrying her off the ground. She growled and kicked her feet in the air. 

“Lili te Suli (Y/N)’ite. That’s enough!”  

Her eyes were still filled with rage, but she continued to breathe heavily. Jake studied Risei's features. A cut on her lip and brow, a broken and bleeding nose, and an eye that is beginning to bruise. He shook his head slowly. 

“I am fine,” Lili grumbled in his arms. 

Jake dropped her on the ground lightly, staring at his granddaughter intently. “Yeah, I could see that.”  

Lo'ak arrived on the scene, wondering as to why everyone was gathered in a circle. His father, whose hands were on his hips and who had his niece in his line of sight, caught his attention first. Then he noticed a female who was weeping with a totally messed up face. 

“Oh shit,” he mumbled, eyes wide. 

Jake rubbed his temple. “Lo’ak, call your brother and his mate to meet in the family hut,” he looked at the three boys who stood in their positions nervously, “the rest of you follow me.” 

Lili remained glued to the spot while keeping an eye on Risei. She was completely guilt-free. She had it coming to her. She deserved it after repeatedly harassing and tormenting defenceless people. 

“Lili te Suli (Y/N)’ite. Lets go!”  

The voice of the Olo’eyktan made her move. She knew she’s fucked when her parents will find out and her doe eyes wont work this time.

don't forget to reblog, like, and comment your thoughts <3

[ravi-deactivated]

𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙖𝙣𝙖 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨

„Sweet cunt and a sharp tongue, you're a dangerous combo, love.“

featuring: edward kenway

cw: praise, vaginal sex, semi-public i guess

synopsis: owning a tavern in havana means being used to pirates in your every day life, their crude words and behaviour. but you've never met a pirate going this far in attempt to apologize for a crewmate's bad actions.

note: „fy nghariad“ is a welsh phrase meaning „my love“ or „my sweetheart“ which i thought would be nice to include, but please tell me if i used it incorrectly, that would be kinda embarassing lol

18+ content - MDNI

───────────────────

Havana is always warm, always welcoming and soft, with sunlight flooding through streets of beige and gold, full of laughter and peaceful existence.

Even at night, it feels like the warmth wraps around people like a soft coat, summer air resting between the buildings and mingling with the scent of the sea, darkness enlightened by warm lanterns and candles. The sound of joyful music, shanties and drunken laughter has become the soundtrack of your nights as bartender in the tavern and restaurant which are owned by your father, and you like to say that Havana is a place of joy, no matter the time of day.

You've done this job since your teenage years, are used to bar fights and lusting gazes resting on you, know how to handle men who try to let their hands wander, think they can whistle at you or spit out crude and naughty things.

Most of them know that it will only get them a ban from the house, or in worst case, a beating from your main visitors or an arrest by the guards, but sometimes, there still are idiots who try it, out of pure stupidity and falsely placed ego.

Citizens of Havana adore your tavern as a centre of the city, they know how to behave and have their fun in peace, but the pirates docking on the shore are a different story.

You can see it in their gazes, in the way they talk, the way they stride through the streets like they own them and the houses forming them, that they're looking for provocation, hungry for a fight.

Thankfully, most of them are more of an inconvience and not an actual threat, and you know how to handle them, know that a tavern is a pirate's favourite place, which gives you a slight advantage against them, even if it's just out of their sympathy for the rum you pour them.

It doesn't diminish your dislike for them, despite them being your costumers.

Pirates are a disease, you've always been told. And yet, you can't help but feel a thrill in your veins, feel your heart leap and your legs trembling when a strong hand grabs your chin from behind, gently, sensually lifts your head.

The soft light filling the dim walls of the empty, closed tavern flickers in your vision, soft tears of passion melting it to a blur along with the dark of the late night and a breathed, blissful sigh leaves your lips, forced out of you by the way the body of the man behind you rocks once more against you.

Pirates are the worst of the worst, you learned early in your life. And Edward Kenway is so good at being a pirate, at getting what he wants, that he might be something even worse, armed with those mischievous eyes, his charming smirk and skilled fingers.

You did not question the leathern bracers wrapped around his lower arms, the hidden blades you saw shimmering in the dim light when you served him and his men, and you didn't question the hooded robe hanging over the back of his chair, could only focus on the white lace-up shirt on his body, the cleavage that slightly revealed the tattoos spreading over his chest.

It was no surprise and nothing new when one of his men hit on you, spitting rude words from a drunk tongue in an attempt to seduce you. What did surprise you was how fast Adéwalé grabbed him by the scruff like a puppy to kick him out of the tavern, and the way Edward apologized to you, genuinely and gentle.

Most men did not act like this when they came to drink in your tavern, only laughed when their comrades harrassed a girl. It did not fit your world view, disturbed the evil picture you carried of pirates all these years of your life.

You couldn't help but smile at the way Edward looked at you, a mixture of apologetic and enthrilled, felt your breath hitch when he asked you what he could offer to beg your forgiveness.

The way his hands are now roaming your body, his husked breaths against your ear and his body pressed against yours is not what you had in mind at first, but you'll gladly take it as a form of apology.

He lets out a groan as he fills you, slides into you like you are made for him, slicked walls hugging his cock, clenching around his girth.

He fills you just right, hits spots you have never felt, makes you see stars despite the roof above both of your heads.

„What do you say, sweetheart? Think this'll make up for the inconvience?“ he husks against your ear, sends a new shiver down your spine that ends up right inside the heat pooling in your lower stomach, and you lightly lean your head back, feel the stubble of his beard brushing your ear.

Just when you're about to answer, he hits you with another thrust from behind, knocks the air out of you with the sheer depth of his movements.

You need a second to catch your breath, collect yourself, before a little smirk spreads on your lips.

„Thought a world-class-pirate would have more to offer“, you respond, with a low, seducing voice, a tone that lures him in, makes his breath hitch lightly, bearly hearable if he wasn't so close to your ear.

He's so close even that you think you can feel the way an amused smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, and you shudder again when his breath fans your cheek.

„Sly little thing, aren't ya?“

Before you can answer in an even brattier tone than before, you feel how he slightly pushes you down, makes you lean further forward until you're forced to hold onto the bar, driven further and further into the wood by his harsh thrusts.

He quickens his pace, makes you whine and moan with the way he fills you, tip kissing your womb, his slight curve brushing your sweet spots just right.

„Sweet cunt and a sharp tongue, you're a dangerous combo, love.“

His words and the deep tone of his voice only make you arch more in his grasp, make you hold onto the bar with one hand, while the other carries your balance on its wooden surface.

You feel your own arousal run down your thighs, feel yourself getting higher and higher on the wet sounds echoing through the room whenever he enters your aching cunt, your brain spinning around mixed feelings of confusion and arousal.

He's a pirate, a well wanted one as well, and yet you can not help but love the way he grabs you, the way he fucks you, the way he makes you feel.

When he leans over your back, one hand placed next to your body, the other one on your hip to hold you steady, you somehow forget how much his head is worth, how dangerous his hands should feel on your body.

It feels strange, but a spark of sympathy arises within you when he leans in further, buries you in his shadow as he pushes a soft kiss against the back of your neck, drowns you in the illusion of intimacy when he gently closes his teeth around the shell of your ear.

Edward doesn't seem like other pirates, doesn't initiate fights he can not win, doesn't harrass others, doesn't cause unnecessary ruckus to prove his ego. He smells better than most of them, covered in the scent of the sea, of salt and a hint of rum, but with an underlying note of herbs, probably because of salves that are used to treat wounds lingering his body.

And above all, he looks so handsome, a dark angel within a bunch of dirty, fattened and drunk pigs, his cheeky smirk more intoxicating than alcohol or money.

A smirk that is directed at you, resting on you as he observes you, watches you writher and shake beneath his movements. When you catch it from the corner of your eye, it fuels new fire inside of you, and your lips curl sweet and mischievously when you slightly raise your head to respond.

„Maybe you shouldn't provoke my sharp tongue too much then, captain.“

The word does something to him, you can feel it, notice the way he gasps for a second, slows his thrusts for the shortest bit. Then he suddenly slips out of you, both hands grabbing your hips and pulling you up, your back straightening for the shortest second before he turns you around, pulls you in by the waist and leans forward to push his lips against yours, catching you in a heated kiss that steals your breath, makes your knees weak.

You bury your right hand in his blonde hair, hold him close, while your other hand rests on the textile of his shirt, trying to hold onto soft linen while you sigh and feel your legs tremble.

As if he's feeling it, he lightly bends his knees, slides his hands from your hips to the back of your thighs to pick you up, makes you wrap your legs around his waist while your hands cradle his face and you sink further into his kiss, melt against his lips. You hear the rustling of clothes, feel how he picks up your discarded dress from the edge of the bar and spreads it on the counter, adjusting the textile before he sets you down on the wood, just to break from your mouth a few seconds later.

He smirks at your little gasp, licks his lower lip before raising his voice.

„Captain, huh? That a hidden request to join my crew?“

You gasp when you feel his fingers dig into the softness of your thighs, need a second to collect yourself before you scoff at his words, look at him through a glimmer of competition before you breathe out an „In your dreams, pirate.“

He only grins at that, eyes slightly narrowing as they slide down to his hands on your thighs, watches them when he spreads your legs to get new access to your leaking centre, his eyes staring shamelessly at it.

And just when you think to finally have the air to add another snarky comment, he suddenly thrusts back into you, one switft motion with which he fills you to the brim, makes you throw your head back as he falls back into a relentless rhythm, his cock slicking in and out of your warm wetness.

He leans over you again, holding you by the waist as he pounds into you, forcing high pitched moans and whimpers out of your throat that you simply can not hold back.

His thrusts feel so deep, hit you so perfectly and when he grabs one of your legs to raise it to his shoulder, you almost choke on the air in your throat, bliss filling you at the pleasure washing through you by his deepening movements.

You curse out an „Oh god-“ as you throw your head back, hear a breathed laugh from Edward when he grabs you by the hips again, adjusts your body on the textile of your dress, pulls you in to take his hard thrusts.

Another whimper leaves you as he partially folds you in half, sass and mockery leaving your body with each new thrust, slowly melting in the heat of a building orgasm within your body.

It doesn't help how he reaches out with his hand to search for your clit, forcing a loud moan from your throat when his finger presses against it.

„That it, darling? That the spot?“

Through your panting and heavy breathing, the dizziness in your vision, you see how he smirks at you, pure confidence written in his attractive features and you can only nod, breathe out a „Please-“, a word that only makes his smile widen.

Your lower body tenses, a coil clenching deep within your core, tight enough that it almost hurts.

„Don't hold back. Let me feel you come, fy nghariad.“

His voice slightly falters, breathless because of his own arousal, the tension with which he holds himself back, and his words only add fuel to the fire in your body, make the flames lap higher, reaching your chest, making your heart race.

Whimpers and gasps leave your throat, you tense, feel your thighs shiver, your entire body short-circuiting until eventually, you feel yourself breaking apart, tension and arousal reaching their peak, knocking you into an abyss of white noise, making you cry out in pleasure, your head falling back as arousal floods your veins.

His thrusts never waver, seem to get even harder, fucking you through your orgasm, almost making you pass out with the sheer overstimulation. Your brain turns to mush, simply melts away and when you look up at him, with tear-filled, flickering eyes and your tongue slightly peaking over your lower lip, he takes in a sharp, hissing breath, slipping dangerously close to an orgasm just by your gaze and your walls spasming, clenching and relaxing around him.

His hand trembles a little as he trails it further up your body, fondling your chest for a second and making you whine out at the soft feeling, before his fingers graze your neck, eventually rest on your cheek.

He spreads his thumb, runs it over the corner of your mouth, doesn't expect the way you push out your tongue to taste salt, gunpowder and rum on his skin. Not a second later, you allow his finger to slip into your mouth, relish in the way he draws a sharp breath when you lazily swirl your tongue around it.

The facade in front of his face cracks the slightest bit, and you see how he bites his lower lip, how his brows furrow a little in what seems to be despair, before he breathes out a „Shit, you're gonna make me cum, sweetheart.“

It's the cue you need and while you whine, shudder beneath each of his thrusts, you at some point slightly bite down into his finger, hard enough to make him jolt, hard enough to break his facade.

He gasps for air, lets out short „Fuck-“, before he holds onto your hip, digging the fingers of his free hand into the skin when he forces himself to pull out, holding you in place as warm, white seed spurts over the skin of your abdomen.

For a few moments, you only look at each other, breathe into the space between both of you, wallowing in the heat of each other's body. Your head is still spinning when Edward slightly leans forward, gently rests his forehead against yours before he lets out a heavy breath.

His eyes are dark and dominant when they dig into yours, captivate you with the slight glimmer within them.

„Aren't you just something else... Maybe I'll pick you up and simply take you with me. Wanna know what else that sweet mouth of yours can do.“

It doesn't matter what you learned your entire life, his words make you giddy and thoughtless, make your heart leap in joy and your lips curl to a smile.

„Careful, Kenway. My lips may seem sweet, but they come with a pair of teeth.“

He lets out a little groan, a sound of playful despair and frustration, before he leans further against your forehead, gently nudges his nose against yours.

„Fucking heavens, you're perfect.“

You smile when he kisses you, wrap your arms around him and become a mess of sweet nothingness beneath his hands when they start roaming your body again, not taking long until you throw your head back once more, sending sighed versions of his name into the warm night.

[puttingherinhistory]

Excuse me while I sound like a crotchety old geezer for a minute here

I've seen this attitude pushed more on social media that "kids and especially teenagers are naturally defiant and naturally want to upset and piss off adults and parents and teachers need to just accept this and deal with it" and tbh, I don't agree. I don't remember wanting to piss off or upset anyone on purpose for fun as a kid or teenager.

What I do remember is that when I was getting a budding sense of morality and justice I would stand up to misogyny / racism / homophobia or general cruelty from adults and/or peers and it would usually be dismissed as "oh she's just at an age where she wants to be rebellious for the sake of it, she just wants to defy adults for fun because she's at that age" and that logic was used to dismiss it.

Likewise the same logic was being applied to kids, I'm talking especially privilged kids like the white kids and the boys especially the cishet boys, with budding cruelty that was a result of unchecked privilege. Like boys being grossly misogynistic and homophobic, "oh he just wants to be rebellious and piss off adults, it's fine". Do you see the issue of brushing the behavior of marginalized kids who are developing a sense of justice with the same stroke of privileged kids being cruel and bigoted? Oh that they're both just being rebellious and trying to get a rise out of you and it's fine just ignore it don't try to actually address it or do anything about it?

I think kids and especially teens usually have more complicated reasons being their behavior than "oh it's hard wired into their biology that they just HAVE to be defiant for the sake of it at that age" and using that logic prevents adults from actually having to think about and address the root of their behavior.

It also lets adults off the hook from actually having to do something about dangerous behaviors kids and especially teens do, like binge drinking until they have to be hospitalized. "Yeah it's just normal and natural because they have to be rebellious and make stupid decisions at that age, it's just hard wired into their brains that they gotta" is just fucking lazy. When I was at that age I understood drinking until I blacked out and needed to be taken to the hospital was bad and should be avoided because adults in my life had taken the time to explain to me it was bad. I was actually capable of rationalizing "hmm, alcoholism and alcohol poisoning are bad and I should avoid those things" and being warned against it did not tempt me to go out and drink dangerous amounts. Why the fuck would it? That makes no god damn sense and is just a lazy excuse not to actually teach kids better in a way they can understand.

Also I mean sure, part of it is laziness, but I also think some adults are so scared of looking like the buzzkill killjoy to young people because they're afraid of aging and actually having to look like a grownup. A lot of this is our culture's worship of youth and demonization of aging, so a lot of people are really scared of looking "out of touch" from the youth and really want to look like the cool hip understanding adult.

But also part of this is privileged adults wanting to protect the behavior of privileged kids. Just rebranded "boys will be boys" if you will. Of course an adult man is going to say "oh come on he's just a teen, teens are gonna be stupid and want to break the rules" about a teenage boy behaving in a reckless and cruel way. Of course white adults are going to say this about white kids behaving in a reckless and cruel way. They got away with it when they were teens so of course they want the same for today's youth who share their privilege.

Anyway it's time to stop being lazy caregivers. Kids aren't a bunch of stupid animals that just have something hard wired into their brains telling them to break rules and be defiant with no deeper motivation to their behavior than some "rebellious defiant" hormone in their brain mindlessly controlling them. It's degrading to oversimplify their behavior like that, they are human beings after all. There are almost always going to be deeper reasons for their behavior, most often that they're an underprivileged kid with budding morality and justice, or that they have a privileged background that has resulted in their more reckless and cruel behavior going unchecked. If you're someone who is a guardian or caretaker over kids and teens you do actually have a responsibility to exam the deeper reasons behind their behavior and address it instead of just dismissing it at "oh well it's just their weird hormonal teen brains commanding them to break rules and be rebellious without any deeper reasoning, time to just ignore it and not take it seriously"

[thefiery-phoenix]

YANDERE KIRIBAKU HEADCANONS

As we all know, Katsuki Bakugou, aka the deformed looking hedgehog with angry pomeranian problems is a VERY AGGRESSIVE and POSSESSIVE ASF Yandere, not to mention slightly delusional too 

Daddy shark on the other hand, is a very doting yandere and wants to provide the BEST of the BEST for their darling and absolutely LOVES to smother their darling with affection and all that other shit. He is also a very OVERPROTECTIVE one might I add

Having Kirishima around is actually helpful for you since whenever Katsuki gets moody (like, WHEN IS he NOT moody? Lol, I make sound like some moody teenager with anger issues. Oh wait...*insert surprised pikachu face here*) , he tends to take his anger out on his favorite toy, aka you, but lucky for you, Kirishima intervenes and makes him stop acting like a spoiled and bratty child. Kirishima knows how to handle the situation and might even make it easy for you to handle. The way he behaves, you almost forget that he's a yandere,  (NOTICE!! I said, ALMOST) until you try asking for ''certain things'' and you try escaping in which case, OH BOY, I PRAY for you, you're basically toast

It's quite obvious that boom boom boi and rock boi are the dominant ones in the relationship meaning, you're the sub! Congrats and have fun ;)

If they catch you escaping, well... good luck with dealing with their punishments since they can be pretty brutal.... They might say some mean things to you which will also be followed by a few slaps here and there and basically, doing whatever they want with you

But aftercare with them is like 5 star treatment. If you fall into a state of depression and overwhelming sadness that has the look of a puppy getting kicked, they won't be able to stand it since they love you to death and they care for you okay? You're THEIRS and they can't let their darling precious angel enter such a horrible state now, can they?

Aftercare is typically done by you getting squished like a tomato in between them where they'll whisper soothing and sweet things into your ears and try calming you the FREAK down and stroke your hair and give you head pats and massages and especially LOADS of hugs and everyone favourite things: CUDDLES!!!!! They might even let you watch a movie of your choice if you're feeling really down as hell

You'll love the aftercare these strong bois have in store for ya pal. After an escape punishment, Bakugou will still be pissed at you and leave you there but Kirishima will take care of you. He'll make excuses for Bakugou and comfort you. Bakugou will have calmed down by then and he isn't the type to show affection and all that most of the times anyways, so expect to be spoiled to DEATH the next day by him giving you breakfast in bed and he won't exactly apologize but actions speak louder than words, don't they?

They will not hesitate to kill ANYONE who comes in their way. PERIODT. They aren't picky anyways about who to kill. Remember that man who was giving you the wrong look? Eyeballs gouged out. Bones? broken into pieces. Limbs? Ripped apart and torn to shreds. Hotel? Trivago (Lol, I did it again, so proud of myself :) )

If Bakugou snaps, it'll be like some mad dog has finally bitten him, but don't say that to him if you want to go deaf for a whole day. Anywho, if he snaps, good luck dealing with the uncontrollable pomeranian and I offer you my best wishes to you and Kirishima. He won't snap out of it easily and it usually involves him losing control of his emotions where he will hit you and Kirishima. Of course Kirishima WILL protect you and not let you get hit. What sort of man would he be if he lets you get hurt?

Bakugou will eventually realize what he's doing and finally go back to normal and will end up actually apologizing for once in his life and things might go back to normal (Well, as normal as they have been when you've been kidnapped)

If Kirishima is the one to snap, Bakugou won't stop it for a bit. He will calm you down if things start getting too much. If he feels that Kirishima is going too far, he'll just give him a whack on the head that'll ''wake'' him up and all that. Kirishima will go back and forth between spoiling you two and calling himself despicable for two weeks until you and Bakugou do something. If both of them snap... well... you get yo runnin' shoes and hide the HECK away from them and you start getting depressed 

When they get to know about your mental health state, don't be surprised if you wake up in the morning surrounded with over 50+ oversized hoodies and your favorite things. The root of their affection comes from one word. Cuddles. They will cuddle all day and not want to move unless one of you gets hungry. They will give you kisses and shit too but cuddles are their forte

Once you develop Stockholm Syndrome, damn do these two spoil you. They let you get whatever cute outfit you want but they limit if it's more of a household outfit vs going out outfit. Their extremely dominant side comes out because you're timid or rebellious nature has died at this point

[artemis32]

also the first person to come to mind when you said someone stubborn enough to ignore aizawa’s glare was bakugo, I feel like that would stress aizawa out so bad

platonic yandere aizawa shouta iii

Fun fact my top three favourite characters (in no specific order) in bnha are Aizawa, Bakugo and Shigaraki, so this is perfect

Also I finished this before any of the other subjugation drabbles as requested, but I'm clearing out my drafts, so hopefully I'll be able to post a few more this week

platonic aizawa masterlist

bnha masterlist

Class 1a was up to something. Aizawa knew they were.

They weren’t good at being sneaky, and for the past two weeks, they’d been behaving strangely.

Ever since the class had seen you, he’d been slightly on edge, waiting for something to go wrong. And he knew that it would sooner or later.

Class 1a were disruptive and oftentimes insubordinate. They couldn’t follow the rules and they got into trouble more often than Aizawa could keep count of.

They were troublemakers.

Aizawa knew that.

Which is why he was so suspicious of them.

They had been perfectly behaved in lessons, quiet and diligent, completing every assignment he’d given to them. They hadn’t spoken out of turn or argued once within the past two weeks. Most suspiciously though, must have been the fact that they hadn’t once brought up the question of who you were again.

It made him uneasy.

It made him annoyed.

But instead of addressing the matter as he probably should have, he kept quiet, curious to see what exactly they were up to.

He found out by the end of that week.

****

“Okay sweetheart, I’m leaving now. Are you sure you don’t want to come with me? You’re more than welcome to, it won’t be long.”

You huff out a laugh. Aizawa was running errands and had been repeatedly questioning whether you wanted to come with him. You were sure he was trying to guilt trip you into joining him.

It might have worked.

It was working.

But you were a model student, as so, your homework and assignments had to come first - much to your father’s displeasure.

The only respite was that you’d be staying safely within the walls of UA, specifically in the apartment, which made your father feel much better about leaving you by yourself.

Sometimes you think he forgets that you’re a teenager – old enough to be home alone for a few hours.

“Yes, I’m sure dad. I’ll call you or Mr Yamada if there’s an emergency. I’ll see you later.”

He huffs, accepting that you wouldn’t change your mind.

The hug he draws you into is crushing and he presses your face into his chest. You feel his chest rumble as he lets out a laugh.

“Don’t let Hizashi hear you call him that, you know how much he hates it.”

You scowl slightly. The eclectic blond often insisted that you call him by his first name, or the ever-endearing title of 'Uncle Zashi', making a habit of reminding you every time you happened to accidentally ‘forget’. You enjoyed his company, but his persistent attitude grated on your nerves sometimes.

“Don’t you dare tell him.”

Aizawa laughs again before reminding you to stay safe and call him in the case of an emergency.

You bid him one last farewell before shutting and locking the door. Paranoia seemed to be one of your father’s defining traits when it came to you.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re set up in the living room, surrounded by snacks, stationary, and papers scattered over the floor and coffee table.

****

Three hours later, you decide to call it quits for the day, packing up your belongings and returning to the living room to flop down on to the couch.

You’d been laying on the couch, watching a rerun of some old movie your father enjoyed, when there was a knock at the door.

Thinking nothing of it, you haul yourself up and make your way to the door.

It could have been anyone - Midnight or Present Mic, here to keep you company or watch over you at your father’s request, or it could have been another teacher, here to drop off paperwork for your father. Perhaps it was your father himself, having forgotten his keys.

Living amongst a group of heroes and heroes-in-training makes you comfortable, and you don’t bother checking who is at the door before flinging it wide open.

Two boys and a girl, all around your own age stand before you. One of the boys and the girl look surprised, eyebrows rising, creasing their foreheads. The second boy remains impassive, his dual-coloured eyes trailing over you, head to toe.

“Can I help you?”

They continue to stare at you for a moment before the pink-skinned girl harshly elbows the blond boy next to her.

He exclaims in pain before clearing his throat and smiling widely. 

“Hi there. I was wondering if Aizawa sensei is home?”

If your father had passed one trait on to you, it had to be his suspicious nature. You straighten slightly, nudging the door closed a few centimeters.

“Aizawa sensei is out running a few errands. He should be back soon - would you like to leave a message?”

The boy with the dual-coloured eyes leans forward slightly, his upper body now crossing over the threshold into your apartment.

“May we come in?”

Though he poses it as a question, he doesn’t wait for an answer, already pushing past you and into the hallway behind you.

Your protests fall on deaf ears, and the boy and girl still in the doorway seem to panic alongside you, scrambling in after him.

“Todoroki, you can’t just barge in like that!”

The dual-haired boy - Todoroki - ignores them and chooses to look around the apartment instead, taking in his surroundings with an air of disinterest.

“I have a question. Answer truthfully and we’ll leave.”

His two friends, still panickedly trying to urge him out of your house, still as he speaks. They stare at one another, then at Todoroki, before nodding and looking at you.

By now, you’re anxious and wary, eager to get them out. You take a deep, calming breath.

Doing as they say seems to be the best decision. You didn’t want to stir up trouble, and you definitely didn’t want your father or another teacher stumbling upon the scene.

“Fine, one question and then you’re gone.”

You cross your arms and press your mouth into a hard line, attempting to cover up your anxieties with an air of anger.

The three agree to your terms, Todoroki humming lightly before speaking.

“Is Mr Aizawa your father?”

It’s a loaded question, one you aren’t sure you want to answer. 

While you and your father hadn’t tried to cover up the fact that you were his daughter, you also hadn’t gone out of your way to announce it. The fact that the three standing before you were so curious that they went as far as to basically break into your house to get an answer made you concerned. 

Their eagerness made you believe that it would be best to lie. Then again, what would you tell them - being honest may be the only way to get them to leave without a fuss.

You nod slowly, hesitantly.

“Yes, he is.”

While the boy and girl let out noises of disbelief, Todoroki doesn’t seem to be surprised.

“See guys, told you.”

The blonde boy splutters for a moment, shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Is that all?” You ask apprehensively, still tense and nervous.

An unspoken question lingers in the air.

Will you leave now?

Todoroki nods, thanking you before calling for his two companions.

At the door, he pauses, turning to you one last time.

“Can I ask that you keep this visit a secret, just for a while. Don’t tell Aizawa sensei that we were here. Please.”

His demeanour is serious, though it seems like more of a demand than a request.

You’re already nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, sure.”

Regardless of whether he asked you or not, you wouldn’t have told your father of their visit. The last thing you needed was for his paranoia to be proven correct. 

What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, and he definitely didn’t need to know that three students - three of his students - had been to his home to see you while he was away. Worse, that they knew you were his daughter.

If he found out, you’d never hear the end of it. In fact, you were slightly afraid he may never let you leave the house again.

No, you definitely would not be telling him about their visit.

By the time your father returns home hours later, you’ve scrubbed the memory of the three students from your mind, and he seems none the wiser.

The two of you have dinner and talk for a bit before going to bed.

You make no mention of the day’s events, and he doesn’t ask.

****

For the first time in what could have been years, you were in trouble. Big trouble.

From the moment you entered the apartment, it had seemed eerily still, too quiet to be natural.

When you first entered the living room, you saw your father sitting with his back towards you, posture straight and still. He didn’t turn to greet you and you feel a growing sense of unease when he tells you to sit down.

“How was your day?”

You’ve known your father long enough to recognize his tone, to know that he’s not asking because he’s actually interested.

Right now, your father, the ever stoic Shouta Aizawa, was furious.

“Answer me.”

“It was fine, classes were good.”

“Hmm. How about yesterday? What did you do yesterday?”

You’re wringing your hands now, fingers gripping at each other in a feeble attempt to mask how obviously your hands are shaking.

“Y-Yesterday was good, same as today, classes and whatnot...”

You trail off awkwardly, unsure of what exactly he wants to hear. You don’t ask though, some sense of self preservation telling you to keep your mouth shut.

“And the past weekend? How was your day on Saturday. You had some time alone, what exactly did you get up to then?”

Staring down at the floor, you clear your throat and try to think of an excuse.

“Ah, well, I got a few assignments done and made dinner.”

His hand on your shoulder almost makes you jump.

“Sweetheart, look at me.”

You don’t want to.

You don’t want to look at him, you don’t want to see his anger or disappointment or whatever other negative emotion lays there at the moment.

But his grip tightens slightly on your shoulder, not enough to hurt, just enough to grab your attention. So you close your eyes and take a deep breath before looking up and meeting your father’s gaze.

He’s angry. Angry and disappointed and everything that you feared he would be. But most of all he looks concerned, worry pinching at the juncture between his eyebrows and at the corners of his mouth.

“What happened while I was out?”

You weren’t often emotional, and you definitely didn’t cry. Crying was pointless, it didn’t change anything.

But you had to bite your bottom lip and press your nails into your palms to stop yourself from bursting into tears in that moment.

It rarely happened that you kept anything from your father. You told him everything, no matter how big or small.

Truthfully, keeping a secret this big for as long as you had had been weighing you down. You felt guilty. Granted, you weren’t exactly lying to him, but it pained you to hide something like this from your father.

And so you cracked.

A few hot tears rolled down your cheeks as you sniffled, wiping at your nose with the sleeve of your jacket.

“Three of your students came to the apartment. They asked to see you but I said you were out.”

Aizawa’s grip on your shoulder had lessened, his arm wrapping around you, shifting you closer to him.

“Is that all?”

You debated lying to him, only for a moment. It technically wouldn’t be lying, you just wouldn’t be telling the whole truth.

The idea deflated quickly once his hand came up to brush away a few tears, his thumb gently rubbing at the soft skin under your eye.

“T-They just asked if I’m your daughter or not, they left after that.”

He hums again, staring at you for a few seconds longer. It feels as if he’s pining you in place, pressuring you into talking. Evidently, you have nothing else to say.

“Can you tell me what they looked like sweetie?”

****

You imagined that this is how criminals felt.

Under any other circumstances, it might have been funny.

Before you, lined up in somewhat of an identity parade, were a the three students from your father’s class, along with a few other guilty-looking students.

Three girls, five boys, all standing pin straight, facing forward. 

In the room next door stood the rest of the class, the remaining twelve students standing in silence.

Your father’s fury, evidently, had not been aimed at you. 

Well, not fully.

He was admittedly quite upset with you for not being truthful with him, but his anger was mainly aimed at his students for interfering with his personal life. With his family.

“Sweetheart, I’ve seen how high strung you’ve been over the past few days. I was concerned, but I didn’t want to overwhelm you so I gave you some space. But today one of my students let something slip and I put together the fact that they must have had something to do with the way you’ve been acting recently.”

You didn’t want to outwardly expose the three students who had come to see you that day, but your father had threatened to punish the entire class, so you’d caved and described them as best you could.

So here they stood, not once making eye contact with you.

"Go on," your father said, staring them down with a harsh glare, one like you'd never seen before. You knew your father could be strict with his students, but this was something else.

They all bowed forward at the hip, staring straight at the ground as they spoke in sync.

"We're sorry."

You stand in stunned silence for a few short moments, before shaking your head.

"Oh, um, it's fine. Thank you for the apology. And I'm sorry too."

The blond-haired student from before tries to raise his head, a wide smile on his face before your father's hand meets his neck, holding his head down.

"Did I say you could look up?"

"Sorry sensei."

Aizawa hums, glancing at you.

"Sweetheart, you can leave now. I'll see you later."

As much as you'd like to argue, you don't. Instead, you nod and bow to the eight students before you, bidding them goodbye before making for the door.

****

Aizawa couldn't find you.

He'd stayed behind to have a little chat with a few of his students, intent on returning home to you afterwards, but now, fifteen minutes later, you were gone.

You weren't in the 1A dorms and you weren't at home.

There was nowhere else that you could be, so where had you gone?

He begrudgingly made his way back to the dorms, resigning himself to spending his afternoon with the troublesome students of class 1A.

Only, he didn't have to go very far to find you.

Not with the small crowd of students trying, and failing to hide in the bushes next to the dorms.

He sighs heavily, walking up behind them silently.

Crouching down, he whispers, "What are you looking at?"

The yelps Denki and Sero let out are both panicked and silent, though they quickly scramble back to where they were, shushing Aizawa with flapping hands.

He quirks an eyebrow. Whatever they were spying on had to be interesting if they were brave enough to shush him.

Aizawa shrugs and cranes his neck to see what has them and their friends so intruiged, and-

Absolutely not.

There, sat on a bench in the hidden garden next to 1A's dorm room, was Bakugo Katsuki.

Accompanied by you, his daughter.

And unless his eyes deceived him - was he blushing?

Having seen enough, Aizawa stands and pushes between the students clustered behind the bushes.

He calls your name, and you look up with a start, eyes wide and dazed, your cheeks strangely flushed.

"Dad?"

You and Bakugo both jump up, and you head towards Aizawa while Bakugo slips away.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were going straight home? And why were you with Bakugo?"

You laugh awkwardly, deflecting his questions as you grab his arm and head towards your own apartment, away from the 1A dorms.

"Sorry dad, I got a bit caught up. Hey, how'd the interrogation go?"

You were trying to distract him. Aizawa knew that.

But your father was nothing if not willing, so he let you get away with it, making a mental note to look into what you were doing with Bakugo Katsuki of all people later.

****

Of all the students in your father's class, Bakugo was the one he thought would stay away from you. Far away.

Unfortunately, nothing seemed to be going his way lately, and Aizawa was infuriated to learn that Bakugo had taken a liking to you.

While he may have his own strong suits, he was definitely not the type of person your father would want you to end up with. Honestly, if he had it his way, you would remain happily single and by his side until both of you died.

But those plans were put on the back burner for now.

He learnt, from a collection of camera feeds and fearful student reports, that you had indeed been on your way back home after your father's intervention, but you'd gotten caught up exploring the grounds around the dorm area.

No one could fault you for that - it was Aizawa's fault really, he never let you out on your own, especially not to explore.

It was something he'd have to work on at a later date.

While on your little adventure, you'd run into a feisty blond.

Bakugo had been tasked with clearing away the autumn leaves around the 1A dorms, a minor punishment for some or other misdemeanour, and he'd caught your attention.

That wasn't unusual - you were curious when you wanted to be. It was a trait that your father both loved and loathed.

What was unusual was that Bakugo had played along.

Aizawa knew that Bakugo knew you were his daughter. That meant that he knew not to snap at you or treat you with his usual brutish attitude as he did with his classmates.

He knew that, but he couldn't understand why Bakugo had taken such a liking to you. Aizawa knew you were perfect, but he also knew that he was biased when it came to his opinion of you.

Well, he thought, I'll just have to ask him myself.

****

For the first time in all his years as a teacher, Shouta Aizawa was stunned to the point of silence.

He never imagined the conversation would take a turn like this.

"Sensei?"

He shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the heavy fog over his mind as he throws the quizzical blond a hard look.

"No."

"No?"

He'd never felt any genuine anger or violence towards any of his students, but this-

"Well sensei, we met a while ago. She- I knew she was your daughter, so I tried to keep my distance but, well..."

"I'm sure you understand what I mean."

"We've known each other for a while. "

"If you'll allow it-"

The conversation replayed in his head as a series of broken sentences and snapshots.

He felt off-kilter, unsure of himself in the worst way possible.

The only thing he knew was that, at this moment, someone was threatening to come between you and him - threatening to take you away from him, to steal you from him.

"No," he said sharply, "Stay away from my daughter."

It was Bakugo's turn to look shocked, though he was faster to calm himself than Aizawa was.

"Sensei, is this to keep her safe, or because you don't want to share her?"

It's a strangely phrased question, one that would puzzle anyone. Anyone but Aizawa.

He understood exactly what the hotheaded child in front of him meant by the word 'share'.

It spelt trouble in more ways than one.

"No. You asked and that's my answer. Now go back to your dorm," he says, waving him out without another word.

Bakugo nods and leaves without further argument, not once looking back.

Aizawa slumped back in his seat.

Bakugo knew what you meant to his teacher, beyond what most people thought they knew - he understood the lengths he'd go to to keep you safe and happy. The fact that he'd left without a fight proved as much.

More concerning than that though, had to be the fact that Bakugo was the same as him. He had the same unsettling urge to be with you, to be the only source of your attention.

Aizawa had seen it in his eyes, but heard it moreso in his words.

Share.

No, he wouldn't share you. Not with anyone.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for ignoring my mom's bf?

Okay so this happened a while ago and my mom has since broken up with the guy so it's super low stakes but it was brought up recently and I was rethinking how I behaved in the situation.

To clarify, my father had been dead for over five years at the time of this story. Ages are at the time of this all happening, I'm now in my 20s.

My mom (46F) met her bf (probably around 46M) when I (16F) was just about 14. I met him, found him to be kind of quiet, and did not have an opinion of him besides being happy to see my mom happy. Two years later, it was decided that he would stay with us in the US long-term. Again, I had only met him once briefly. My sister (18F) was the same, but I think had a slightly worse first impression. She's always been a better judge of character than me.

It immediately didn't go great, my mom was on some trip when he arrived, and so my sister and I were hosting him for about a week before mom came home. We tried to introduce ourselves, give him a tour of the house, etc, but he didn't really interact with us at all. My friend, who is much more charismatic and outgoing than I am, couldn't even get an introduction out of him. All one word responses. Okay, so he doesn't want to be bothered. We lived in a big house, we didn't need to cross paths all that much. It was fine.

Then, my mom came home. And suddenly my sister was the devil's spawn -- it was ridiculous how late she was out, that she was drinking, that she was wearing shorts. My mom and sister didn't have the best relationship, but it had never gotten to the point where they could barely be in a room together before this. (In my mom's home country drinking from a young age is very normal, and my sister was never stupid about her drinking or let her partying affect her school work, if that seems relevant.)

It was obvious that the bf was the one complaining to my mom, who was then going to my sister about it -- he had even yelled at my sister for "dressing inappropriately" directly (it was summer and about 90 degrees, and in the comfort of our own home. She was wearing shorts and a tee shirt that wouldn't even get her dress coded at school. He thought she was "too seductive"). Whenever they fought, he would sleep with my mom. Loudly. My sister's room was right below them, so it was not fun for her.

I was on my sister's side in all this, and my opinion was known but really didn't help much. Most of the arguments seemed to be over normal "rebellious teenage behavior".

(To defend my mom though, she never actually saw her bf treating either of us badly -- besides once and she physically pushed him away from me and seemed ready to hurt him if he didn't leave -- and my sister did have a habit of making shit up to start drama. When she did break up with him later down the line it was for trying to keep her from comforting my sister through a rough patch. It was apparently all very loud and dramatic and she abandoned him in a foreign country in the middle of the night. I already had my own place by then, so I unfortunately missed it.)

Come the end of summer, my sister went off to college and the house was quiet. My mom and I have always gotten along quite well, and in highschool I was always very diligent in informing my mom where I was and when I'd be home, etc. This isn't to say I was a perfect child and my sister was the demon in the house, just that it would be fairly in character for my sister to go out of her way to piss off my moms bf and straight up out of character for me.

So I didn't. I didn't interact or acknowledge him at all. I didn't make eye contact, I "looked through" him if I happened to look in his direction. It was obvious that he didn't like anything my sister did and so I would do nothing. At all.

He started complaining to my mom that I was treating him like a ghost. I reminded my mom that I was not like my sister, and I wouldn't hold a grudge or anything like that. I was just treating him as he treated me. (He also tried the "sleeping loudly" trick on me, as I moved into my sister's room after she moved out. After I also complained, my mom realized that my sister had not been lying about being able to hear it and stopped letting him get away with that. They were still sleeping together, just not Loudly Right Above Me.)

It obviously stressed him out. I don't know the psychology behind it or anything, but I think living in a house with someone who seemingly can't see or hear you must be really awful, because he started to yell at me about anything. (Since I literally wasn't doing anything, he did not manage to get my mom to turn against me like he did to my sister.) I was childish for making food in the kitchen, apparently*. If I needed to use the bathroom at night I was waking him up on purpose (he didn't have a job or any reason to wake up early, like I did with school and my hour walk bc he didn't think my mom should have to wake up to drive me). My panic attacks, obviously, were a direct insult to him specifically.

*I know this seems like I'm not including context, but I literally just made myself a quesadilla, cleaned up, sat down to eat, and he came in to yell at me for being childish. My best guess is I woke him up with the noise? But it was lunch time, so.

I just would continue to ignore him, even while he yelled. Admittedly, if he went on long enough, I would eventually just stare at him, which is what I usually do if someone is angry at me and I don't know what to say.

He eventually left our house because he "felt unwelcome". Good riddance. He did continue to date my mom, but he never visited again while I was there.

I still think that he was "the asshole", and that my mom wasn't great either for staying with him so long despite my sister and I complaining. However, my ignoring him stressed him out in a way that I've never seen someone stressed before or since. I think I was probably escalating it, at least. Tbf though, he never once tried to actually sit down and have a conversation with me. I wouldn't have ignored him if he had.

What are these acronyms?