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hopefulromances · 1 year

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Long Time Coming I Chapter Eight I Foolish One

Summary: Being hired as the first female assistant coach in the league was a challenge of it itself. Being a football protigy and University Football Legend was easy enough. Coaching Jamie Tartt was a challenge all on its own.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warning: Angst babes, just angst

A/N: Didn't want to make yall wait too long. AHHAHA

Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six Seven

If I thought that I had been avoiding Jamie before, I was altogether ignoring him now. I tried not to let me emotions get in the way of things between us being friends, but I really couldn’t stand to be near him right now. I avoided him for the rest of the funeral, didn’t even say goodbye. Luckily for me we were given an extra day off where I was able to get some distance from him.

I stopped going to the pitch in the morning, opting instead to stay after training in order to avoid Jamie. I avoided the locker room, hanging out with Keely or Rebecca for as long as I could before sneaking into my corner of the coach’s office as quietly as possible. Luckily, most of the attention was on Doctor Sharon leaving, and the upcoming game at Brantford.

That and Edwin Akufo’s sudden appearance at the club that really shook things up. I hated not being around Jamie. He made me feel better about myself, just being around him lifted my spirits. But now, just thinking about him made my heart hurt like the ache I felt when his dad showed up in Man City. I was heading to meet Rebecca for lunch when he finally caught me in the hallway.

“(Y/N),” He called after me. “Wait up a second, would ya?”

I froze in my place, knowing that I couldn’t very well just avoid him. I let him jog up next to me and turned to face him.

“Hi, Jamie,” I greeted smally. He stared for a second, waiting for anything from me but I was not giving it.

“Yeah, well, I just missed ya this morning,” he told me, his hands going into his pockets. “And I just feel like I haven’t heard from you much recently.”

I looked down, not able to meet his gaze. “Yeah…”

Again, I didn’t elaborate. Jamie furrowed his brows, a frown etching its way onto his face. We stood, facing each other in a more-so-uncomfortable silence.

“Anyways, I should go, Rebecca is waiting for me.” I started to walk off.

“Uh, okay? See you around?” He called after me.

I didn’t respond as I walked up the stairs to Rebecca’s office. When he was finally out of earshot, I let out a large breath. That was probably the worst conversation I have ever had in my life. I knocked on Rebecca’s door waiting for her reply before walking in. She was sat on the couch, munching on Ted’s cookies as she always did come lunch.

“Welcome, welcome!” She greeted, patting on the set next to her. “Come sit” I gave her a grateful look and slumped down on the couch. “Woah, that was a heated plop. C’mon out with it. What’s going on?”

“How do you know anything’s going on? Maybe, I’m just in a ploppy mood!” I defended myself. Rebecca stared at me. “Okay, fine.” I sat up and scooched, so I was sitting on the edge of the couch. “So, at the funeral I was going to tell Jamie how I felt. I know!” I held up a hand, silencing her. “Bad setting but I was overly emotional. Anyways, I was on my way to tell him when I overheard him telling Keely that he still loved her.” A sympathetic gaze overtook Rebecca’s expression. “Yeah. And now I can’t be around him without being… sad… so I’m trying to give us space. But I just miss him so much!”

“I understand how you feel,” Rebecca admitted. “I told Sam that I wanted to take a break at the funeral.” I gasped in surprise. “But now, with this whole Edwin Akufo situation, I feel so… BLAGH!”

I leaned over to rest my head on her shoulder. “Well, aren’t we a couple of heartbroken idiots.”

She hummed in agreement before looking down at me. “The worst part about it is that I don’t want to tell Keely because-“

“Because she has her vanity fair thing! Exactly!” I shot up, excited to have someone who understood the predicament.

“Exactly,” Rebecca punctuated. She reached over and picked up her box of cookies and held the box out for me. “Here, you deserve one as much as I do.”

I looked at her like she was offering me the cure to cancer. These cookies were legendary, and she was just offering one up to me like it was nothing? I took one out of the box gingerly.

“Thank you, Rebecca,” I praised, bowing my head slightly. “I shall treasure this always.”

We giggled to ourselves for a moment whilst I chowed down on my cookie. Rebecca kept glancing over at me though, like she was thinking something but didn’t want to say anything.

“What?” I pressed, popping the last bit of the cookie in my mouth. “You have that look.”

“What look?”

“That ‘I have advice’ look! So, out with it!”

Rebecca scoffed and adjusted herself. “I just… I just think you should still tell Jamie how you feel.”

“Are you joking?” I asked, incredulous. “I think that is the worst possible thing I could do right now.”

“Well! I’m just saying. Are you planning on ignoring him for the rest of your life?” She pointed out. I shrugged, slumping back down again. “Well… then I think the only option is to talk to him!”

She was right. I knew she was right. But that didn’t make it any easier to do. To tell Jamie how I felt would be excruciating, especially when I knew he didn’t like me back. But I didn’t want to go forever without seeing him again and the best way back would be to tell him what was going on.

That’s how I found myself standing on the pitch the next morning. I wondered if Jamie would show up today or if he was done trying to find me. I kicked the ball lamely in around, thinking over exactly the speech I had thought of to tell him. Nothing heartfelt, nothing to get my emotions running high. Just ‘I liked you, you don’t like me, let’s move on’.

But then, there he was, walking towards me. He was smiling, like he was excited to see me. And everything that I had planned was flying out my ear. My brain was empty. No thoughts, just Jamie.

“(Y/N)!” He exclaimed as he got closer to me. “I was afraid you’d gotten scared off. Too impressed by my raw skills.” He laughed but I found myself unable to move. “Is everything alright?” Again, I found myself unable to speak. I opened my mouth and realized how hard I was breathing. “What’s going-“

“Do you know how much I wanted to hate you?” I blurted out finally. He looked taken aback by my comment. “Like I really wanted to hate you. You were so talented, and young. Just like me. Except you got everything you wanted while I was sidelined. The second I finished university no one cared about me anymore.” Jamie’s faces scrunched up as he tried to understand what I was saying. “And at first, you made it really easy to hate you. You were such a dick.” I chuckled and Jamie let himself laugh a bit as well but then my laughter died. “But then you went and… became a good person.” The laugh left Jamie’s eyes. “You became thoughtful, and considerate and just as bloody talented as well.”

“What are you going on about?”

“Let me finish!” I snapped, harsher than I meant to. I cringed at my voice and brought a hand up to rub my forehead “Sorry, just… just let me finish. You became a good person, Jamie. Someone I liked being around. And Jamie I… I like you.” I swallowed hard, trying to gage his reaction. At first, he looked confused, then his confusion turned to realization, then to confusion again. “I really really like you. You made me feel comfortable and special. And I thought, after the bus and the club that maybe you liked me too?” It wasn’t a question, even though I posed it as such. “But then I overheard you talking to Keely, at the funeral, and I know you don’t which is okay. You don’t have to.” I felt myself starting to ramble, trying to ward off the tears springing into my eyes. I rubbed my eyes, trying to ward off the redness. “But Jamie, I just… I just need some time. Okay?”

I stared at him, wanting him to say something, anything, but also dreading the words that might come out of his mouth. His eyes were darting around as he tried to understand what I was saying and figure out a response. But the longer it took, the worse I felt. I was ruining it, all of it. Any relationship we might have had is completely gone now.

“(Y/N)… I-“

“No, it’s okay! It really is!” I cut him off, deciding that I did not want to hear his sympathies. “I’ll just go. I’m gonna go.”

With that, I turned around, leaving the football on the field with Jamie and headed inside. Behind me I heard Jamie let out a loud curse and the sound of the ball going flying.

…

Jamie was confused. Somehow, in the past few weeks, he had managed to chase off all the people he considered himself closest to. Keely, Roy, and now, (Y/N). He didn’t know exactly how to react to her confession. He would be lying if he said that he wasn’t attracted to her. She was fit and incredibly talented. And over the past few months they had gotten incredibly close.

Then there was Man City. His dad had gotten in her face and his blood was boiling. From the look on her face, this wasn’t the first rambunctious drunk she’d dealt with and that made him even more made. But after all that, she’d still been there for him. She sat with him the whole bus ride home, even falling asleep on his shoulder. While she slept, he couldn’t help but look over her delicate features. It was so rare that he saw her so relaxed, and he was glad that he could provide a space for her to feel that comfortable.

The dance club was a mistake. His mistake. She’d been telling him about these uneventful dates she’d been going on. Dates where the guys were such idiots. He hadn’t meant to show up to the club that night, but he wanted to make sure she had a good time on her date. Then the guy had straight up ghosted her? He had to make sure she was alright. Any friend would. But then she was getting tipsy and dancing closer to him. And she just looked so good. If Colin hadn’t pulled her away, he probably would have kissed her then and there.

He was happy, so, truly happy again, at Richmond. The last time he was that happy was when he would go home to Keely at the end of the day. Then (Y/N) had hated him, and he was a big part of her unhappiness. But that feeling he had with Keely was back, even though he wasn’t spending as much time with her. He knew he was becoming the person she knew he was so maybe, some part of him, was changing for her.

That’s why he confessed his feelings for her at the funeral. After watching Rebecca’s moving eulogy, he didn’t want to wait anymore to hide his feelings away. But even after he had told Keely his feelings, things still didn’t feel right. And after that, Keely wasn’t talking to him anymore. Then (Y/N) stopped coming to our morning practices, and she wasn’t answering his texts. The only thing that had stayed the same was bloody Roy Kent and his arsehole nature. But he couldn’t even count on that to stay the same. Once he found out that he had told Keely that he loved her, Roy would kill him.

All of these thoughts rushed through Jamie’s head as he watched (Y/N) walk away. She was holding back tears, he could tell and it broke his heart to know he had caused that pain.

“Fucking HELL” He grunted, kicking the ball back down the field. He fell onto the ground throwing his legs out and covering his face with his hands.

Just then, he felt a shadow come over him and he opened his eyes, blinking to adjust to the light.

“Good morning, Jamie!” Sam’s cheerful voice broke through. “Are you enjoying your nap?

Despite his mood, Jamie couldn’t help but feel a little better in Sam’s presence. “I was, until you came along.” He smacked Sam’s leg as he sat up, bringing his knees up towards his chest. Sam could tell there was something wrong with his friend and he sat down next to him leaning back on his arms to prop himself up. He watched as Jamie picked at his fingers, clearly deep in thought.

“Talk to me, Jamie,” he opened, nudging him.

“It’s all fucked, Sam,” Jamie replied, exasperated. “I’ve fucked it all up.”

Sam chuckled. “I can tell. Everyone’s been talking about it.”

“Wait, really?” Jamie frowned, looking seriously at Sam.

Sam smiled, shaking his head. “No, not really.”

“Oh.”

When Jamie didn’t laugh, Sam knew there was something wrong. He knew Jamie had a hard time opening up sometimes, so he deiced to get the ball rolling.

“Last night,d Edwin Akufo took me out to dinner,” He started, gaining Jamie’s attention.

“Did he really?”

Sam nodded, looking down at the grass. “He bought a whole restaurant, just so I could have a taste of home.”

“He’s really wineing and dining you, eh?” Jamie comment, giving him an encouraging nudge.

“Yeah, he is.” Sam wished he could be more enthusiastic, but he was too conflicted. “And there are a lot of positives to joining him.”

“But…” Jamie knew there was a but. Otherwise, Sam wouldn’t be looking so damn depressed right now.

Sam’s slight smile, faded. “But… something is telling me that I need to stay here.”

Jamie nodded, trying to understand. Sam situation was unique and wasn’t something Jamie could relate to. He always played close enough to home that he could return whenever he wanted to. In any case, he appreciated Sam’s honesty and compassion.

“I told Keely that I loved her, and I think I fucked everything up.”

Sam cocked his head. “You told Keely that you loved her?”

“Yah?” Jamie frowned. “Why?”

“Well, me and some of the guys had a bet on when you and (Y/N) were finally going to get together?” Sam admitted with a smile. “But I don’t think any of us thought you and Keely would get back together.”

“Me and (Y/N)?” Jamie echoed. Why was this suddenly at the top of everyone’s minds?

“Yeah! You two have been spending so much time together, we just thought that you were getting close!” Sam shrugged. “But aren’t you afraid of how Roy will react when he finds out.”

“I was sorta hoping he wouldn’t?” Jamie admitted, cringing at how it sounded.

Sam laughed. “I would maybe not plan on that. Roy and Keely are very honest with each other.”

Jamie groaned, knowing Sam was right. “I just don’t know what’s going on in me brain. It’s like you said. Something is telling me I’m wrong.”

The two boys sat in silence, reveling in the similarity of their situations. While there was an obvious answer to their problems, there was something holding them back from those decision. In this moment, Jamie wished that (Y/N) was there. He found himself wishing for her a lot recently, especially since she’d been avoiding him. He tried to think about how she would react in this situation.

First, she’d probably laugh at him. Telling him how ridiculous he was for getting himself into this situation. Then she would tell him to breath, that everything was going to be okay. Then she’d probably laugh at him some more before telling him he needed to be accountable for what he did. He was out of line for talking to Keely and telling her he loved her. He needed to come clean to Roy and apologize to Keely. Then she’d probably make him run laps just for her own amusement. But she’d end up running them with him, so he didn’t have to suffer alone.

He smiled at the thought. At her laughing at him for whatever stupid situation he’d manage to get himself into. Her laugh was like a drug to him. The first time he’d made her laugh was that day where he’d shown her the Imperial ticket. He’d made some comment about how he was looking to dye his hair ‘walnut mist’ and she’d told him that was a made-up color. But when he’d pulled up samples he’d found, she started to laugh. The sound was so beautiful he decided he wanted to make her laugh as much as possible.

Then it hit him. It was that feeling. That feeling he used to get when he was with Keely. That feeling that turned his cocky nature into a blushing mess. But he was feeling it about (Y/N) God was he really so stupid?

“I think,” He spoke, again, addressing Sam. “That you should following your feelings.” With that, he hopped up and held out a hand for Sam to take. Sam took his hand and stood up. Jamie placed his hand on Sam’s back. “But just know, mate, whatever you choose, the team is with you.”

Sam grinned at him and patted Jamie’s back in an appreciative gesture. Together the two of them walked back inside.

Jamie’s heart was racing because for the first time in a long time, he knew exactly what he needed to do.

Taglist: @heletsmelovehim @higherthanheroes @ajax-petropolus-wife @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @optimisticsandwichgladiator @kno-way-home @sleepy-time @wigglegiggle @skewedcherries @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x y/n #ted lasso #ted lasso show #jamie tartt fanfiction #enemies to lovers #angst

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isaaujulii · 2 months

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WHY GOD WHY COULDN’T THEY TREAT ALL THEIR CHARACTERS WITH RESPECT. The source material is endlessly fascinating and riddled with interesting storylines that can be followed and or improved upon(within reason) . Like you have the knight without honor whose only true light is a queen who he can never have. A woman whose life is tied to the men around her, which is her circumstance but she does nothing to try to help or ruin them but laments her part in everything. And i’m not saying the story can’t be built upon the relationship between rhaenyra and alicent.

It’s a great place to start. START. It can’t be just about them. Why don’t we see Jaeharys and the pressure he feels as a bastard and a possible future king. What about halaenas mental state her visions, and the fact she lost a whole child. And how come all of a sudden Aemond is kinslaying psychopath whose only goal is to become king, is there no internal conflict. Where’s that remorse and horror we saw at the end of season 1. Aegon is being made fun of every second and being ignored (and before u come at me i know he is a pos rapist, not defending him) nobody sees him as a threat even though he is QUITE LITERALLY THE KING.

Alicent is on her sad girl bs. And I LIKE ALICENT. Do you know how hard it is to make me dislike a character I originally loved. I thought her character was heading into an interesting direction feeling guilt and remorse about her actions because it is against everything she believes in. Because AGAIN they have hammered into the viewers that she is a religious. But she just becomes whishy washy. And not an active participant.

And don’t get me started on our titular protagonist a one Rhaneyra Targaryen. Have I mentioned my dislike at the obvious bias towards team black. Also why are there teams why is everything black and white. I don’t know about yall but I thought the whole point was there is no good and evil and that killing your family for a crown is wrong and morally unjust so therefore anyone participating in the war (as in anyone who has a choice, not the small folk forced to fight and stuff) is already not the greatest person. So i don’t know why they are acting like Rhaneyra is the goddamn messiah. They’re trying to make her a Daenerys variant. She’s not Dany and she shouldn’t be forced to be. Like their trying to make her a reasonable person who only wants best for people around her but she is also someone actively participating in a war with DRAGONS and as everyone keeps repeating there isn’t a war as bloody as one with dragons. And look i love a little hypocrisy in my characters i eat it up but this is ridiculous. You want a war so be in it. And if you don’t want to work with some people tough shit, you need others to get things done. And god forbid they challenge you on anything.

And look I tried to ignore it as much as i could but, do they hate men. Like genuinely asking, because every man in this show with the exception of like 2 characters is immensely unlikeable. And i’m not saying you can’t have unlikeable men. But like it’s a bit of a pattern. The women are the ones trying to avoid war and the men are all gung ho to lose their lives. Like i think they were trying to be feminist by making the women the only reasonable ones and men unreasonable. But they were so feminist that it came around to being misogynistic. Which i didn’t think could happen. And this being pseudo medieval time period with misogyny and all that it seems like there are parts where they are just like forcing patriarchy and other parts it does not seem to exist. Like equality is the norm and patriarchy is the outlier. Like there were women in charge of houses, which is not abnormal in of itself but like they don’t explain it. Like they could’ve been like the lord of that house is ill and his lady-wife takes care of everything. Or been like she’s in the fighting because she has a talent for it and is a bastard. Like I don’t know if any of you have seen the show Black Sails but one of the characters Eleanor basically runs pirate island and that doesn’t make sense because it the 1700’s but it’s explained that her father put her in charge because she was raised there and had a mind for business. And I know it’s a sad thing to be like a woman can only have power in proximity to a man. But like aren’t they going for realism, that’s what was so intriguing about the game of thrones universe. How people given shit circumstances rise above them. And some of these people happen to be women. If this was like one of those comfy fantasy with like fantasy creatures and like loose plots and there aren’t really rules and modern sensibilities are ingrained then I could dig it. Like yah you go girl be a pirate and you be a merchant and you are an advisor to the king. abut this isn’t that. And I can already see how an argument can be made that the entire show is overcoming the circumstances of your birthright being taken because you are a woman. Which I will reply that like I said earlier in order to do that they need the women to have agency and push for it or let it go. Which is options that Rhaneyra has.

And maybe i’m wrong and all those loose plot threads and bizarre character choices will payoff in season 3 and i’ll be the weirdo who doubted them.

#house of the dragon #alicent hightower #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen #aemond targaryen #game of thrones #complaining #don’t hate me

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strip4kaneshiro · 3 months

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Cole Cassidy x Texan! reader domesticity headcanons

hiii it’s Kay again LOL. My first comeback piece and it’s Overwatch head canons LMAO. Felt some type of way about writing headcanons about real people so we’re moving on to fictional characters as the lord intended. As of rn, I’m fixated on Cassidy, Reaper, and Lifeweaver as my faves. So expect me to write about them TRUST

You and him defo live on a small ranch back in his home state of Texas together

this takes place in a universe where Overwatch is a lil more flexible with him than before, so don’t worry too much about the logistics ok???

Not close too his hometown though ( he’s still wanted there, rip), so you end up choosing a ranch set of land south enough to still be able to reach the coast if wanted. Cole was adamant about being able to take beach road trips

Let’s you do majority of the interior decorating, while he focuses on upkeeping the outdoors of your home

In the process of choosing yalls house and moving in, contrary to popular belief, Cassidy was the super picky one

I swear you had to change real estate agents twice because he wouldn’t stop nitpicking LMAO, but all for good reason, He just wants the best for his darling <3

He will NEVER wake you up earlier than 9 am for any reason unless it’s a doctors appointment or a road trip. Babes just wants to watch you sleep

“Cole! It’s 10:30! You weren’t gonna wake me up?!” You chastise, jumping out of bed and pulling stray hairs out your face

“Now why would I disturb your peace?” and he flashes that damn cowboy charming smile smh i hate him so bad

If your into skincare stuff, he simply watches you in amazement as you go through a multi step routine

Begins asking you to help him, not because he cares much about his skin, but he loves to see you yap about what you love

(Please free this man from the 14 in 1 in the shower)

Bro CANNOT keep his hands off of you for any reason and it makes everyone both envious and uncomfortable

If you’re in the kitchen, hands wrapped around your waist from the side. Doing laundry? He’s leaning on your shoulder and simply watching.

Depending on if Overwatch needs him, he will force them to give him a 14 hour notice so he can tell you. Cole never wants you to wake up confused and alone like how he did Ashe and Deadlock gang

Speaking of, expect to see the, very often in your house. They all just decided y’all’s house was the hangout spot like a bunch of high schoolers

He doesn’t appreciate how Ashe and you team up to tease him

Ended up getting two dogs and a cat with him.

The cat loves you but cannot stand being near Cole unless it’s bribed (male cat)

“Oh, did your wife give you those scratches Cass?” (Baptiste)

Cole begrudgingly acknowledges the scratches on his shoulders and back during a training session.

He forces you to trim his claws and get him a scratching post when he gets back home

If you drink coffee/tea/matcha, he leaves enough hot water in the coffee pot so you can make whatever you choose. Or if he knows, he just does it himself and leaves it for you warm cold (ik some of you r iced coffee fiends)

Cole takes you on shopping trips every couple of months because he loves to spoil you, he even carries all the bags without one single complaint! (He gets to flex his ranch muscles)

Don’t let it be a nice day over 70 degrees, this man will take any chance he gets to have as little clothing on as possible around you (Why he does this we don’t know)

Catch him in a tank top or no shirt at all doing yard work while you lay in a chaise , tanning or quietly reading.

He wouldn’t have it any other way though, he loves working hard for the ones he loves.

So as the day comes to the end, and you come outside with some iced tea for him, he wipes as much sweat as he can off of himself before leaning over and kidding the top of your head.

“I love you, darlin’.” He’ll mutter, before wrapping his toned arms around you and embracing you

#overwatch #overwatch 2 #headcanons #overwatch headcanons #nijisanji en #cole cassidy #cole cassidy x reader

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bohemian-nights · 3 months

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your attitude towards Black queer women is nasty and there's nothing stereotypical about a Black (possibly) lesbian character. on top of that, yall was on here the other day talm bout some "taking stuff from black men" but who woulda been seated for a yet another Black man chasing after a yt woman anyway and tryna use sex to control her??? franchaela are going to have a happy ending even if a little bit unconventional (we literally don't know how bridgerton's societal landscape will change by then) but what's the difference between them already living out quiet lives away from the ton and.....continuing to do that? it wouldn't be out of shame but out of what they want while it just so happens to protect them? what exactly would be different than what benophie woulda had to do??? who also had to go to the country to limit the risk of folks inquiring about sophie. it's the same thing and yet your issue seems to be that it's not a Black woman with a white man who harassed her to be his mistress and refused to see her as anything but that. i have no doubt the show will change that part of their dynamic but that seems to be something you want to stay in tact and you need to unpack that cause it's pathetic. you should want better.

They aren’t going to change shit because their MO isn’t to uplift Black women of any kind. So what you really want me to do is cheer on what will be a promiscuous Black woman chasing after or romancing a married white woman(her cousin-in-law) who will have to end up hiding out in the country for the rest of her life to escape persecution. You want me to pretend like it’s somehow the same/a better story than a Black woman being chased after, who gets the marriage, the adoring spouse, the children, doesn’t have to live in hiding or else she’ll be jailed, etc.

You don't care that they also ruined a Black man’s image too? Fine, but this isn't being done for us. We keep getting handed the “unconventional” which is why our image is always a fucking mess in the media.

If you want to play stupid play stupid, but I'm not playing dumb with you.

I’m not happy that they made Marina half-Black when they know she has to die to give Eloise a happily ever after. I’m not happy that they had Lady Danbury get raped every five seconds in Queen Charlotte and tried to play it off for laughs. Or that she remained alone with her children hating her. I wont even mention Guinevere, who is only there either to be a sexual experimentation or a side kick to the non-Blacks. Not to mention she like Lady Danbury is just another iteration of the strong independent woman who doesn’t need a man.

Alice is another side character so I'm not happy that the best we’ll get in terms of a Black-ish main character is Queen Charlotte who unlike the Bridgertons doesn't exactly have a fully functioning marriage. Lastly I’m not happy that they pulled this stunt after pulling the other fifty eleven stunts when it comes to their Blackish female characters. They do the bar minimum and give us the worst shit so no I’m not going to pretend like it’s all hunky dory.

I’m absolutely disgusted by the treatment we have received by this show. I’m tired of the disrespect. It’s one thing to add drama it’s another to add unnecessary trauma which is all they have given us.

I’m sorry, but it should tell you everything that they refuse to show a Black woman in a loving relationship with a man where shes desired and wanted. Every woman is afforded that but us? No ma’am I’m not falling for this bs.

Sophie should've been Black and this character they've created should’ve stayed in the rough drafts. No ifs ands or buts about it.

Actually read the books and pay attention to this show rather than listening to a bunch of psychotic racist ass non-Black women who are trying to sell you shit on a platter cause they don’t really give a damn since they have and will continue to get theirs.

#yes queer rep is important but this show isn’t going to deliver anything but pure garbage #black women deserved better than this and you’ll never get me to agree that this is actually good rep or that it will be okay #if they were going to do this the show should’ve made sophie black as well and set up that queer marriage wasn’t a problem back in s1 #instead they are trying to give us scraps on all accounts cause they don’t give a damn about black women #Y'all aren’t going to bully me into accepting this shit #Find some simpleton who cant see the forest from the trees. I’m done #anti bridgerton #fandom misogynoir

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your-writer-beta-side-piece · 10 months

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Looks like it’s time for me to pop back up again begging for fics about my new hyper fixation!

What’s in store for you in this post:

*An impassioned plea throughout the whole post to all of you amazing writers

*Gifs that will keep you up at night too

🎅 *My Gator Tillman fic Christmas wishlist 🎅

🏆*A (Smutty) Rec at the bottom for the best Gator x OC I’ve found so far🏆

*More gifs because goddamn I’m in a chokehold

It is seriously criminal how there’s like, two Gator x OC’s (that I can find, if you have any don’t hold out on me please!! I feel like I’m going through withdrawals having to wait a week for another episode as it is) on here and AO3.

I mean come on we all love ourselves a slutty, dominate, broken character that we all fantasize about fixing.

Not a single thought I’ve had about this man has of the Christ like variety, and I don’t think I really need to explain why just look at these gifs/photos:

HE HAS HANDCUFFS ON THE BED THE FICS ARE WRITING THEMSELVES

🎅My Gator Tillman Fanfic Christmas wishlist🎅:

I want a full story fleshing out our new favorite loser, but still somehow so damn attractive, Gator

I want an ofc that is too good for him but we all know we’d sink that low too girl

I’d LOVE it if it followed canon. Like how in the show he’s trying to get her/he's going after her like he is trying to get Dot

(come on if he was stalking you and called out to you and said “mama it’s time to come home” YOU TOO WOULD FOLD)

I want him to use those handcuffs on our girl once he finally gets her

I want smut

Y’all on AO3 come up with the best damn oc’s there’s a reason they’re binding yalls books and talking about them all over booktok like you guys are published authors

(Im not saying it’s right/that I participate or that it is even legal, I’m saying Ive seen it and I know you guys have the caliber of writing to make some people not give a fuck and try the law for some of you guy's stories)

I want him to call her mama

I want the dominance, the stalking, the cat and mouse chase

I want a plot as wild as this season and those families are

I know some people hate fics that follow plots of books or shows but this season is AMAZING and so fucking wild. I love it and I’d love to read about it and be immersed further into Fargo. I don’t want to leave the season 5 Fargo world I want to stay longer... with Gator

I want more smut

A plot that can only be contrived by fanfic authors who have been reading and writing since they were 15 or even younger

I want even more smut

I want all of the angst, good writing, and humor you can think of

I have a feeling we’ll need some of you fic doctors to write us a fix it fic of some sort

But I especially want smut. I want to drown in smut.

I want it all and you guys have served it all before so I know it's possible

If I could outline a whole plot, along with side plots, new characters and character arcs, write, and edit as fast as some of you guys can I would do it myself. I would do it for us. I’ve considered it. I mean I’ve been really considering it these past few days since it’s dryer out here than the Lyon’s bed. I’ve got an idea, lust, Christmas candy, and the hyper-focus to keep me interested for at least three to four weeks!! (I might have started if it wasn't the week before finals for me right now)

But some of you guys who’ve written for Steve Harrington (let alone other fandoms) have the ability to be best selling authors, so I know these communities have both the talent, ability, and the horniness to do this.

I believe in you guys, I believe in us. Let's do it for Christmas 🎄

REC I PROMISED:

Since it is the season of giving, I’m going to share my favorite fic so far. Let me know if there’s any fics we need to add, OR if there’s any books with love interests like Gator, for science 👀

Again the general criteria I’m using is along the lines of:

Is there an actual story going on?

Is there an oc who has a purpose, goals, wants, needs, an actual arc of some sort?

Is Gator Tillman still sexy af?

Is it following canon or is it original?

Is the plot and characterization good?

Does Gator call her mama or is it at least probable that he will 👀 ?

Is the grammar/writing good?

Basically the same stuff we all want to check off

MY FAVORITE FIC SO FAR REC:

The best I’ve found so far has been:

Every Little Thing

By BuckysGrace

Link:

Why I like love it:

1.) The writing is pretty damn good

Normally we have to wait a few weeks or months with new movies/shows/books for people to have time to write and publish their well written and plotted fics but we have been blessed early!!

I really like the sprinkle of tid bits to come here and there. The authors really laying the foundation down for this story leaving little comments and hints here and there in their writing and characters conversations.

I can tell that the author is really working hard to create believable oc's and a world that could actually be a part of the Fargo TV show universe.

2.) Damn the little taste of smut we got just flamed the fire!

Tell me why I could actually visualize Gator during that scene?!?! It really felt like his characterization was perfect here! And damn I love me some dominant, possessive, jealous himbos who would kill for me or worse.

I PROMISE I'M TRYING SO HARD NOT TO SPOIL ANYTHING FOR YOU GUYS!!!

3.) I really like our girl Daphne (OC)

I feel like I can actually see her. Like I can hear her when she speaks. I can feel the awkwardness of her situation and her uncomfortableness radiating through me.

I like that she's shaping up to be a character with wants and goals and not just a 2-d romantic partner

4.) GODDAMN THAT DINNER WAS AWKWARD AND SEXY

I CANNOT WAIT FOR THE AFTERMATH ooooooo boy. I’m not spoiling anything. You can suffer (and enjoy 😏) that part all for yourselves

5.) We have confirmation from the author that there is a whole ass plot and story in the works

I love to hear it almost as much as I love to read it! But I could tell that they had some stuff in mind from the way they were writing alone before the confirmation.

6.) AND ITS GOING TO FOLLOW CANON EVENTUALLY MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ME US!

I might just get to hear Gator call our girl mama before I die from fic starvation. Plus we just might get the stalker Gator on page like we have on screen!

7.) I like the dual time line

It’s done a good job of getting me hooked. I’m really interested in learning more about Daphne’s past and her relationship with Gator. I think as time goes on as we learn more about their relationship and her relationship with both her family and his things are really gonna kick off.

4.) Gators characterization seems to be pretty accurate

He's selfish, possessive, dominante, kind of a jackass, but he is also sweet to those he cares about. Which, is something I've noticed when watching the show, and I've seen some posts talking along similar lines. I don't think he's mean deep down, I don't think he has it in him. I think the facade he puts on is the product of his father.

BUT I'm not excusing anything he's done of course

6.) The grammar is pretty good

Good writing like punctuation and sentence structure along with good story telling is just so important to me. I'm one of those people who can't get into a story if it's not written well.

7.) GUYS IM SMELLING THE ANGST COMING

Some of us are like blood hounds for this stuff, you read hundreds or even thousands of fics and books and you can start to know what goodies are coming your way. And I can feel the pain train a comin down the tracks!

8.) The smut is promising to be real real good

I just want to circle back to this for a moment because I am so excited to read more

What I don’t like about it:

It’s not longer/finished already so I can't devour it in one sitting 😭

You might not have read it yet

@buckysgrace

I think the only way through this is to fill our thirst for this man and if here and TikTok have shown me anything it’s that we’re DAMN thirsty!

WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE!? GO WRITE MORE GATOR X OC SO WE CAN ALL DEVOUR IT ON A03 OR READ BUCKYSGRACE’S FIC AND CRY WITH ME THAT THERES NOT MORE OF IT OR MORE OF ANY OTHER GATOR X OFC FICS 😭😭😭

*Did I write all of this instead of doing homework and studying for next weeks finals? Yes. Am I eventually going to devolve into a fic rec/review only blog? Maybe maybe not.

More gifs/photos for research purposes

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aconflagrationofmyown · 1 year

Note

You know I hate to ask cause I know it will only hurt me but...how long are you envisioning Elvis living in each story? Captain? Sarge? Big Daddy? I know he is getting happier endings but I'm concerned about the end cause sadly that's the way his story is.

Also I want Gigi to devour Big Daddy and make him so love struck he can't stand it. 😍

I AM SO GLAD SOMEONE ASKED.

First off let me say even for fics where it’s either never mentioned or has yet to be established, they’re all true fix its, ok? So, don’t sweat either way.

But more specifically let’s just gab about the AU’s as I’ve figured them out so far.

A Whole Man -the most concerning perhaps? but at the same time it’s set in his life around the real time of ‘69-70 so, healthwise he’s not awful but I’ve given him shit 1800’s issues and a hell of a lot of work, so, bad news. Also a criminal record with a hanging offense. Oops. But, I have this one universe entirely planned and let me tell you the whole story only spans a whole year at most. And then if y’all like, I’ll keep writing either one shots of the future (that suggests he lives, eh?) or flashbacks digging deeper into any back stories yall want explored.

Sarge: I refuse to date when Elvis or Elaine pass away in this one, I can’t emotionally take it and I want them going out together. He nearly dies many times through the 70’s, that stays in the story but he makes a recovery due to many circumstances jolting the man -Angel of a wife or eight kids aside, only Elvis can save Elvis. The more I plan the second generation and grandbabies the more I find myself assuming he’s there for events in the late 90’s at least. Which surprises me, as I still see him as destined to be die young no matter what. But it seems I’m to softhearted for it. Sixty something is still young, I suppose…😣

Gigi: undecided but we shall be buying far far far more time, and when he’s gone? There’s a sensitive young man named Austin who comes knocking on Graceland’s door to see the home of the man he is about to portray and ask his younger widow about him. Is it possible for two people to love a man together who’s been gone for little while now? They don’t know, but they manage it all the same, and somehow, it’s a little less lonely together…

I really love these types of questions, sometimes I’m more than happy to explain my vision I just don’t wanna spoil unless y’all ask. 💋

#Gigi asks #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley #sarge asks #a whole man asks #elvis fanfic #elvis imagine

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kayleezra · 1 year

Text

Some Strangers (Part 3 to Someone Else) // (Marcus Pike x GN!Reader)

Word Count: 3219 Warnings: not even proofread in the slightest! I’m letting yall read this rawdawg Summary: Last part babes! This is it, the grand finale of angst! Good luck to you all and sorry for any emotional turmoil this series may have caused you 😌

Marcus’s POV

I was offering her a life, a future, with me. Because I needed to fill the void in my heart, a void the shape of you. I wanted Teresa to fit void and I tried to make her fit but she didn’t and she knew she didn’t she knew she was competing with someone else, someone who wasn’t even around anymore. So she left, I don’t blame her, I’ve become a version of myself I hate. I destroyed what I had with you for a false future, a future that was built with you. I was selfish, I am selfish, I saw something new and shiny and thought it’d fulfill the future I had with you but that was the problem. The future I wanted was only possible with you. I not only ruined that but dragged another woman into this mess as well. She’ll be fine, Teresa was with me as a distraction from Patrick, an attraction that couldn’t be ignored. Now she’s with the man she wanted and I’m alone. I deserve the ache and pain I’m feeling, the heavy guilt that sits on my shoulders, I hate what I did and who I became.

I was able to start anew in Washington. The pain never left me but no one knew my horrific actions, the man who had been divorced once and later left his soulmate for a woman he barely knew all because she was new and exciting. I went to work and lived my life day-to-day quite ordinarily. Never socialized, I couldn’t hide my pain well enough to socialize or make friends. But this false sense of security came to a screaming halt when I was told I’d be returning to California for a case. There I’d face Teresa, who was happy with Patrick and the city where I made my biggest mistake.

As much as I hated the idea of going my heart leapt at the chance. You were there, I’d be close to you. I could visit you. I could, but I won’t. I know you don’t want to see me. When I think of you I’m reminded of how amazing you are and how much I love you but for you, I remind you of pain and heartbreak, that anyone can leave no matter how much you love them. I’m not just a ghost in your life but a haunting, a poltergeist. My actions haunt you every day, have changed your view of the world and yourself in the worst way possible, I’ve instilled fear in you.

I’ve arrived at my old office, I’m not working with Teresa’s team but God isn’t kind enough to spare me entirely.

“Can I help you?” an all too familiar voice asks, breaking me from the report I was filling out.

I turn to see him, Patrick Jane, the man Teresa left me for, the man she wanted me to be.

“Jane.”

“Mike… Hello,” he welcomes awkwardly, surprised at my presence, understandable.

“I’m uh here consulting on a case, was a last-minute assignment,” I explain, avoiding the elephant in the room.

“Beard looks good.”

He’s starting to piss me off, I don’t know what he wants, if he wants me to beg for information about Teresa and make him feel like more of a man but he’s already won. He’s got the girl of his dreams; Teresa, and I have lost mine; you.

“It’s for an undercover thing,” I pause, he wants to acknowledge the elephant in the room, “so, you and her?” I finally ask.

He makes his way closer, “Yeah, um, I’m sorry we’d- we didn’t intend for it to happen like this.” He almost seemed genuinely apologetic, something I didn’t expect, I thought I’d come back here a hated man, not a pitied one. “I know the last thing on her mind was hurting you.”

The words hurt because it's exactly what I did to you, unintentionally hurt you, I never wanted to hurt you.

“I know that,” I respond quickly, trying to get this over with as soon as possible, trying to forget the pain I feel while here. My eyes dart around the room looking for an escape but there is none.

I take a breath, Teresa and Patrick, the perfect couple, will probably live a picturesque life like the one you and I planned together before I burned it to the ground.

“So do you have a plan?” I ask, thinking about the future I promised you and then tried to force upon Teresa. My tone and demeanour have become more hostile, not at Jane but rather at myself for losing the future I wanted.

“I- I don’t really understand,” Jane plays dumb, he wants

“Well, I was offering her a life,” a life I planned and built with you, that I wanted to fulfill with you, “a home, a family if she wanted it,” a home I wanted to come home to, to see knick knacks you’d decorate the place with, a home where you’d be at ease. A family we made together, maybe kids running around with sticky fingers or just gathered friends and loved ones around our dining room table. “A future,” that only has meaning with you in it. “Have you thought about any of that?” Does Patrick think about the very real future he has with Teresa? Because I think about the future I could have had with you every damn day.

“I haven’t thought that far ahead yet,” Patrick answers.

He has a real potential future with Teresa, they’ve known each other for years, and he hasn’t thought about what their future may look like, while I still dream about what our future could have been. I look back when I first started thinking about the future with you in it and panicked because I thought I was moving too fast and that if I voiced my thoughts I’d scare you away. Little did I know that you were thinking the same thing, secrets we each kept until one fateful night months down the line.

If Patrick doesn’t think about his future… what is it he wants from her? “Well… what’re you offering her?” I ask quizzically, confused about how a couple can seem to love each other so furiously and not think about their future together. Maybe it’s because Jane has never had to worry about his future romantically, he believes people will always be banging at his door to get a taste, “I mean other than Patrick Jane,” I add with venom, angry at the situation I find myself in in comparison to Jane.

We don’t get any further as Teresa’s lone voice pierces the silent room.

“Hey,” she says politely announcing her presence, clearing looking for Jane.

Jane excuses himself, passing Teresa while whispering some cute pet name. Teresa scans the room nervously as I approach, wanting to talk without listening ears hearing, she has the same question Jane did when he realized it was me.

“What’re you doing here?” she asks.

“I’m consulting on a case, just had to fill out a deposition,” I finish with a sad sigh. When I look at Teresa all I see is the pain in your eyes when I told you about her. Before, when I saw her and you disappeared from my mind, now? You’re all I can think about.

I don’t let her prolong the conversation, “anyway, it was good to see you, Teresa.”

“You too, Marcus,” she says meekly.

I acknowledge Jane with a curt nod and go to leave, happy to get out of the office. I'm about to reach the doorway and breathe a sigh of relief when Teresa calls out, “They’re still here,” she says with some urgency.

I stop in my tracks but don’t turn, I don’t know what she means yet or if she’s even talking to me, but then she says your name. I haven’t heard your name out loud in what feels like millennia, it’s sharp yet refreshing like ice. You don’t just live in my head, you’re still real, you still have a life to live that isn’t the fantasy in my head. I turn to look at Teresa, having so many questions I want to ask, to pick every bit of information she has about you but I don’t get the chance.

“I think it’d be good if you saw each other. Maybe buried the hatchet,” she says with a reassuring nod. Then she goes to the nearest table and begins writing on a scrap piece of paper. “I think you need it, the both of you,” she adds before joining Jane and leaving. The paper has a phone number. Your phone number.

– Second Person POV, Past –

Life had been… boring… grey without Marucs. You weren’t miserable, you’d found a new normal, a new baseline. You weren’t happy or sad, but not numb or robotic either… it was like you were just going through the days letting the wind blow you wherever but you also weren’t relaxed as that might suggest. You were in an in-between, neither here nor there. Until you’d gotten a text.

Your phone buzzed in the morning while you were getting ready for the day. The number wasn’t in your contact list but the message made it clear who it was from.

‘I thought you should know that Marcus and I have split. I’m telling you because he’s still living with the ghost of you, maybe you guys can work things out. -Teresa’

It felt like the text was supposed to bring you relief but it didn’t. It dwarfed you back to the melancholy feeling you were drawing in when Marcus first told you about Teresa. You didn’t think this was your chance to get him back, you didn’t feel bad that Marcus had made a mistake and still wanted you. You just felt small… your emotions were so big that you felt small.

You didn’t know what to say to her, you didn’t owe her anything but she wasn’t at fault for anything either. You settle on something that doesn’t focus on you, on what happened.

‘I’m sorry things didn’t work out for you. I wish you guys could’ve been happy.’

The text is heartbreakingly true. Marcus hurt you and you still loved him, always would, but because of that, you wanted him happy even if the cost was you. You accepted living a miserable life while watching him and Teresa get married, have kids, and grow old together, because at least then Marcus would still exist in your world even if you didn’t exist in his.

Nothing more came out of that text. You’re thankful for that. You got to truck on in your grey life and not be set back or thrown in a whirlwind.

– Second Person POV, Present –

As more time passed you healed. Your smile became less fake. You didn’t forget about Marcus but in a way… you did. Marcus didn’t rule over you as a gloomy cloud anymore. This was not a result thanks to you and you alone, you credit your therapist for a lot of it. Even though your therapist would tell you that you’re the one who sought therapy, that you’re the one who kept up with it, that you’re the one who did the work. And you 100% are that person, you are to thank them while also acknowledging the help their guidance provided.

You felt new like you’d broken out of the dead shell Marcus left you in. You’re on the way home from a decent day when you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket, you glance at it and see a number you don’t recognize. At first, you think it to be a scam but then your eyes skim the message and you know it’s not. You also know that whatever is within the text while requires your full attention so you pocket it and try not to overthink it for the time being.

You’re happy to get home, it finally feels like your safe space, the place where you're most comfortable. So once you drop your things you debate whether you settle in or read the text. You decide to settle in, you’ll feel better, you want to read it when the rest of the day and done. You unpack your bag and change while trying not to let your mind catch fire with anticipation.

Finally, you sit down and open the text.

‘I know this is random and we have no relation or obligations to one another but Marcus is in town. Patrick and I ran into him in the office, he’s in for a case. I’m not here to tell you that he looks miserable because he doesn’t but he’s… I don’t know, grown. And I know his actions still haunt him. I hope the two of you can meet, even just for coffee, to lay everything to rest.’

Her message is cordial and not pushy. It’s dawned on you since her last message that she’s so eager for you and Marcus to bury the hatchet because she saw his aftermath. You might have healed but he might not have, he might still have something to get off his chest. You don’t owe him anything to help him heal or clear his conscious. You don’t pity him or feel sympathy but you do still love and care about him, maybe not the same way you once did, but you still do nonetheless. You let out a loud sigh before you begin typing.

‘Do you have his number?’

‘No but I know how we can do this’

A little bit later you get a text from Teresa that tells you that you and Marcus will meet at a nearby lounge after work. From what she tells you, you think it sounds all too inconspicuous, like he’s being kidnapped but after some further discussion, it was the easiest way without getting anyone in trouble.

A few days later you find yourself putting more effort into your look. You tell yourself it isn’t for Marcus and it isn’t, you’re not trying to win him back with your looks, you just want to put your best foot forward with him. A small part of you is even excited, the old you that’s still with Marcus. Another louder voice is terrified. You think of him and worry that all you’ll be able to see and think about is how awful he left you, broke you. You put effort in to try and drown out the voices as well, you can’t feel bad when you look good right?

You make you’re way to the lounge at the set time, and see Marcus seated alone. You go to join him, your heart is in your throat and you suddenly feel nauseous. When Marcus sees you his eyes widen and he freezes for a moment before abruptly standing from his chair. He whispers your name in disbelief and his shocked reaction tells you that Teresa didn’t tell him you’d be showing up.

“Marcus,” a beat of silence, “I take it Teresa didn’t tell you I was coming?”

“N-no, no, she uh- said something about an agent and I meeting for a case, I-”

You can’t help but laugh at how nervous he is. You finally nod and explain, “yeah, no. That’s not what’s happening, umm, I was told you were in town and I was hoping we could meet and-” and what? I don’t know.

“Of course, yeah-” he agrees.

You smile, he looks good, he has some facial hair but it suits him. Then you realize that the two of you are standing awkwardly at a table, “guess I’ll take a seat,” you tease yourself.

Marcus moves and says he’ll help you, “oh no, I got it, don’t worry, sit down,” you reassure.

Finally, the two of you are seated and there is an awkward silence. Both of you try to start a conversation at the same time.

“Oh, sorry, you go ahead,” the both of you say at the same time. Which ends up in the both of you laughing.

Marcus feels his heart come to life again when he hears your laugh. He doesn’t realize how much he missed this, misses you. But if he is honest he knows he doesn’t deserve your smile, your laugh, your love. After, what he did he doesn’t deserve you, he doesn’t expect you to want him back either. Life feels more colourful than usual when he sees you but a part of his chest aches because he knows that this is no longer his, all because of him.

“How have you been?” you ask with a smile.

“Uh, good… I guess”

“You guess?”

“Yeah, I just… there’s been a lot going on between the move and then work and- you know, just busy,”

You nod solemnly, “I’m sorry about you and Teresa by the way. I really did want it to work out for you,”

Marcus can’t help but look away, filled with guilt.

“Yeah I don’t think I wanted wanted it to work with her…” he says quietly.

“What?” you ask with your brows furrowed.

Marcus looks away and clearly becomes nervous, “I didn’t want Teresa as Teresa. I… we got together and all I wanted was for her to be you. That… that was what ended our relationship, I was trying to make her into someone she wasn’t because she isn’t who I wanted.”

Oh, you think. “Oh…” you say aloud upon realization.

Marcus nods guiltily, “yeah… I hurt you and dragged another woman into the mess all for… something I still can’t quite understand.”

“Marcus… I’m sorry but we can’t- I’m just not-,” you sigh, “we can’t just get back together,” you explain painfully, both because you are reminded of the pain he caused and because it feels like you’re saying ‘good-bye’ to him again.

“Oh no no! I wasn’t implying that- I just, I needed you to know that… there was nothing ever wrong with you. You had everything I wanted and for some reason… I tried finding that in another woman…” Marcus explains.

You nod, a heavy silence covering the both of you.

“So are you staying or going to be around for a while?” you ask Marcus curiously.

“I’m not sure, until the case is solved for sure but… afterwards… I’m not quite sure what I’m doing,” Marcus scoffs at himself.

“Well… don’t stay away because of me.” you say softly, “I was able to find my peace and you deserve that too… and maybe if you’re going to be around for a while we can find time like this every now and again, and just get the closure we both need.”

Marcus’s eyes light up at the thought of seeing you again and his chest aches at the thought of being so close to you, living in the same city, but not being able to love you how he wants. He looks at you and sees a new person, a bright, smiling, lively person who isn’t letting their past haunt them and Marcus knows that that means the door for him is closed. It hurts but he doesn’t fault you, you deserve it and like you said, maybe he does too.

(A/N: don't forget to join my taglist or just let me know if you wish to be added since not everyone tagged is in my taglist!)

Taglist: @spideysimpossiblegirl @littlemisspascal @writer-darling @avengetheunnatural @currentobsessionrabbithole @harriedandharassed @alberta-sunrise @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @jediknight122 @thirddeadlysin @kirsteng42 @theredwritingwitch @wildemaven @tuquoquebrute @louderfortheback @trey-18 (also tagged those that were so kind about the first/second part!)

#marcus pike x you #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike #the mentalist fanfic

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greyeyedmonster-18 · 2 years

Text

one brush with love

(also in honor of @impishtubist day, i am going to do something i dont normally do and have two fics occurring at the same time. this was supposed to be dropped yesterday but...alas.

inspired from an unintentional prompt on discord of "I said no!", where someone doesn't accept a proposal...a tumblr Starking exclusive.

enjoy xoxo)

a/n. there is a line in this that i think is quite possibly the funniest thing I've ever written and if any of yall can take a guess...

Chapter 1. An Indecent Proposal

Sirius face felt like it was going to fall off he had been holding a fake smile for so long. His “present face”. That’s what James used to call it, anyway. The face Sirius made when he opened a gift he hated or was otherwise impractical or would take up space in their dorm, and Sirius would nod and smile and say thank you; and his voice would go up several octaves lying through his teeth as he described how much he wanted one of these things for ages and simply had never bought it for himself. James would always poke fun, laughing loudly as the smile dropped from Sirius’s face, and the lies stopped.

Sirius never imagined when he was proposed to for the first time, by the man he thought he had loved the very best since he was sixteen, that his “present face” would appear, and he would be rendered speechless.

Sirius didn’t know what to do with his arms, letting them hang there stupidly at his side, suddenly aware of how long and bulky they were. Too much, too much, maybe I can have them shrunk at St. Mungo’s. Just two short little arms that don’t look ridiculous at your sides when you’re standing in front of your boyfriend who is expecting an answer to a proposal. Yeah, just go ahead and say yes, so we can get this operation started and you never have to worry about stupid dangling arms again, THAT works, right? Okay.

Saying words…. now.

“I—”

“I feel like I deserve a trophy of sorts for managing to surprise you, baby,” Remus said, looking up at him. “I love you and I—”

“No!”

The flock of birds that erupted from the trees surrounding them might have been funny had Sirius said yes. Some people after getting engaged shot off confetti canons, doves released from boxes, and it would be just so SiriusandRemus to have pigeons or whatever the fuck they were instead flapping around them.

So wrong, it was right.

But standing there with his stupid arms…Sirius realized it might have just been wrong.

"No?"

Sirius felt a chill go down his spine, frozen as he stared at Remus, who was down on the ground on one knee. There was a hole there. Sirius could see the freckled, knobby kneecap poking through the hole of the brown trousers that Remus loved.

That Sirius loved, even though the waistband didn't fit and there was a hole, and in the pockets too-- throughout the day Remus would drop knuts on the ground, uncaring as they slipped through his pockets, and Sirius would smile and pick them up. Stealing someone else's good luck. Because Remus was wavering on his knee, and his long fingers holding a ring were starting to shake as well, staring up at Sirius.

There was ink down Remus's arm, where he had written a speech. I love you and you and you and you, only you, forever, always, in this lifetime and the next. Written in the stars, shit.

The romantic kind that Remus usually didn't do, but he had this time.

And the sun was setting just right, and the golden light reflecting off brown hair should have been it. And the birds should've been singing, and Sirius should've been crying, and there was a bottle of champagne somewhere, right? To pop, to explode. They were supposed to be kissing.

But neither of them had moved.

"N-no?" Remus asked again, his arms lowering slowly.

"I don't know why I said that" Sirius said, unconsciously taking a step back from Remus, "I didn't mean--"

"I think you did."

“I didn’t, I swear I just..didn’t.”

“You practically shouted it, Sirius."

"I thought you were asking if I wanted cheese on my sandwich." A picnic. Remus had planned a picnic for Merlin's sake!

"Well, do you?"

"No."

"Two for two."

"Remus...."

Remus slowly rose from his position, the hand holding the ring going into his pocket. Almost immediately, the tiny band slipped through the hole in Remus's trousers, barely making a sound as it fell to the sidewalk, and Remus began walking down the path. Sirius don’t know what compelled him to pick up the ring—maybe if he looked at it up-close his answer would change, and they could go back to how it was 10 minutes ago before Sirius had destroyed everything. Remus had surprisingly done a good job with the ring, golden and not too thick, handmade; inside a barely perceptible inscription of forever just as Remus had verbally said.

Just as they had said when they were eighteen and graduated from Hogwarts, holding hands and looking at the Black Lake for the last time with death-grips. Eight white knuckles. Convincing themselves that they would stay together, forever, because they had to be.

“Remus, wait!”

And to Sirius’s surprise, Remus stopped in his tracks on the pavement, Sirius barely having to jog to catch up with him.

“What?”

“I—” Sirius stalled, “I wasn’t expecting you to actually stop and wait for me, so I don’t…have anything to say right at this moment, but give me a second and—”

“I only stopped to wait because I realized you drove us here.”

“Oh.”

“Oh.” Remus mocked, eyebrows raising and staring at Sirius for some sort of explanation. “There’s a fucking party waiting for us back at Number 12. Harry helped me plan this bit out. And we’re going to go back there and say what? Never mind! It was all a lie! Nothing matters! Go fuck yourself, Sirius.”

“I mean…that’s probably going to happen for a while considering I don’t think I’m fucking—”

“Don’t be charming.”

“Well, I can’t help that.”

“I am going to spit in your face, I swear on Merlin’s Right Saggy Tit, Sirius Black.”

Sirius sighed, and handed the ring back to Remus carefully, “I…said no.”

“To cheese on your sandwich, I’ve heard.”

“And to getting married.”

“Remember that time James accidentally pantsed me in front of the entire school? Don’t laugh, you are not allowed to laugh anymore,” Remus said, sternly, pointing a finger at Sirius who bit down on his lip, “And I said to you I didn’t think there was anything more embarrassing?”

“I…remember.”

“This takes the cake.”

“…Do you have one in that picnic basket?”

“There’s one at Number 12.”

“It’s…still ours to eat.”

“It says Congratulations, not feeling particularly celebratory at this moment,” Remus shook his head and shoved the ring back down into his pockets. The same one with a hole in it. The ring would undoubtedly fall out again and Sirius wasn’t sure this time he would pick it up. Maybe a bird would find it, bring it back to its nest. At least then someone, something would use it as part of their home.

“We don’t have a lot of options here Remus, and I’m—”

“Trying to make the best of it, you always do. It’s why I wanted to marry you.”

And this was where the guilt set in. This was where Sirius would normally back-peddle, already thinking of ways he could pull the punches and soften the blow. Confess to Remus with his “present face” that he just wasn’t ready now and, in a year, or so when Harry was older, or maybe when the sitting room was painted the perfect shade of yellow, Sirius would say yes, loudly and proudly. Or else return to their home and start plotting a proposal in reverse, where it was Sirius on one knee with shaky hands telling Remus that he just had to be the one to propose and the ring would be perfect, and Remus would smile so wide Sirius would be able to see the gap in his bottom teeth. But Sirius didn’t want to do either of those.

There was always a third choice between yes, and no. You just had to be clever enough and brave enough to find out what it was.

“So…” Sirius breathed out, “How…about we just get trashed instead?”

“What.” Remus asked, unamused, eyes red from tears that hadn’t fallen yet but had dried all the same. Shoulders hunched over. All pride from the start of their drive to the park gone.

“We get trashed. Off the…whatever you packed for our picnic, I’m assuming there’s something?”

“Fucking 20 galleon bottle of wine.”

“Then we drink that. And…then go to a pub down the road. Stay out so late, everyone leaves Number 12, and…we don’t have to deal with anything until…not now.”

“And well just go home together? And sleep in the same bed together? And tomorrow morning tell Harry that love is a joke?”

“Yeah,” Sirius nodded, “I think he can take it.”

“We’ll I can’t. Why—”

“It doesn’t…feel right, Moony. And I didn’t…know until you were down on one knee.”

Remus nodded slowly before starting down the path again. Sirius stood and waited again, watching Remus’s retreating back unsure of whether to stay or follow and try one more time. But he saw Remus reach into the backpack, pulling out the aforementioned bottle of wine. He looked around before magically popping out the cork, pausing on the sidewalk, and chugging the expensive wine like it was water.

He turned his head towards Sirius, holding out the bottle like an olive branch, and for the second time that late afternoon, Sirius walked to catch up to Remus.

“I get most of this.”

“Alright,” Sirius grinned, feeling the guilt that had knotted itself up in the pit of his stomach slowly unravel. He took a sip from the bottle.

He fucking hated wine.

Wrong.

Present face.

The night was long, mostly spent drinking in silence across from each other. Not wanting to drink alone but not walking to speak to the other person.

Remus was hurt.

Sirius was in shock, adrenaline coursing through his veins and he would feel the hurt later.

They used a portkey to get home, leaving Sirius’s car at the park for him to retrieve tomorrow, along with anything else left behind.

Dignity.

Maybe love.

Number 12 was empty, as Sirius expected, the Congratulations cake left on the kitchen table, though it had been carved into (as a result of a hoard of impatient children in attendance) no doubt.

Sirius woke up the next morning with a throbbing headache, too old to be drinking all night, and stumbled into the kitchen for a glass of water. He leaned against the refrigerator—a ghastly muggle appliance that Sirius had grown accustomed to in the tiny flat days with him and Remus and hadn’t found a way to make it blend seamlessly into the décor of Number 12.

But at the moment in felt cool and calming on his forehead and racing thoughts.

He hadn’t quite figured out what to do, or what to say, or what was going to happen next.

“Uh…Mr. Black?”

Sirius startled, pulling away from the fridge and running a hand through his hair before turning around to face the voice.

Kelly? Clara? Katie? A muggle babysitter they used for Harry from the neighborhood. They had cycled through so many over the years, between accidental magic and Number 12 Grimmauld Place deciding to have a mind of its own whenever Remus and Sirius would leave, that Sirius was starting to lose track of the names.

“Oh, hi K…aaa…rrriiitt—”

“Karina.”

“Right, right, sorry, Karina, long night,” Sirius offered, giving her a weak smile, “Thank you for staying…over unexpectedly. Let me just find…” Sirius walked across the kitchen and down the hallway leading to the front door where they kept a small chest of drawers. A stack of muggle money was in the first one, after Sirius had attempted to pay babysitter and pizza delivery persons one too many times with galleons. “Sorry about that—was Harry alright?”

“He went into a sugar coma about eight and has been asleep since. I did my best to clean up the party.”

“Ah, what would we do without you, Kate.”

“Karina.”

Sirius closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face, silently cursing himself, “Right. Here’s…a little extra just for that.”

The young girl laughed, reaching up to the hook to grab her coat and her small purse before accepting the money, “How…did last night go?” she asked, a smile on her face as she expected what Sirius knew everyone expected.

“I…I said no!” Sirius exclaimed with false excitement, extending his empty ring fingers to Karina and watched as her face fell and turned pink.

Seemed about right.

#one brush with love #starking #sirius black #kingsley shacklebolt #remus lupin

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theunseeliefairy · 5 months

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So, I did realize something watching last night. She was having a great time being coddled until she got cocky and asked to be part of a team. And then realized she’s the slowest one. Which, she shouldn’t get upset about but she obviously did. Which is interesting. I thought she matured passed me by leaps and bounds. But she coped with it how i would (so I find it pretty well). Also, he’s so attentive he probably taught her.

So I realized a theme with millennial women. At least the ones I’ve cyber stalked. They seem to only be on twitch when they have a supportive gamer boyfriend. I find that so weird (I know hate is likely but you should have a thick skin for it if you’re going into it duh) because that would be something I would do. Not the women that haven’t missed the gaming part of our millennial upbringing. Yall played more video games than I’ve ever had and only NOW your on twitch? If I had the experience and knew how to spend my money, I would have been started a twitch while single.

But here’s the kicker! They always end the stream like they are about to have sex. You hear the flirting getting hot and then the stream goes off. This is performative af. (And an obvious cope) You can’t tell me it’s not because mute and just turn off the stream sis why am I hearing the flirting before you decide? AND ALSO! I would be taking streaming seriously. Trying to make this shit my job. Don’t flirt with me (where everyone can hear) at work sir tf 😏

I would have tried it but I’m with a bum that can’t get his shit together. So I’m not hating on it I’m actually admitting I would have never known to have that performance in my tool box until now. She taught me a lot of social things, just unfortunately, it was all the toxic stuff.

Also, the full circle sign that coming back into her life is not the decision to make, her man replaces me perfectly. He even talked about your middle school game we bonded over because I didn’t know how else to make friends so that game (the only autistic game i played) was the first thing that blurted out of my mouth when she said hi. And she just straight up doesn’t have fun with me anymore like she has fun with him. It made me go “oh there she is she just doesn’t want to be that with me anymore.” This is not even a gay weird thing or anything lol (I’m obviously afraid of women because they see the darkness within me pretty well) I think she just finally saw the darkness within me as well and was terrified. It sucks on my end yes, because I’ll never find another friend like that, it ruined me, how do I enjoy another person without the same benefits I got with her? Doesn’t seem possible.

0 notes

joe-moi · 10 months

Note

So he’s been linked to two redheads now and gvd posted she’s dying her hair red and getting extensions man that’s a little funny I can’t lie (I don’t hate her so don’t attack me please)

I’ve been trying to decide if I should say this or not because I feel like it’s gonna be controversial and people might come in and tell me that I’m wrong and I’m stupid.

But ignoring all of the GVD stuff because she’s not involved, does anybody else think that the hair color might have some reason to do with why people assume they are together and pushing the narrative? Because he was with a redhead (even if it wasn’t real red hair) for the last year on and off. And I feel like once people saw her hair they kind of were like “well then he’s got this type, clearly they are together.” When in reality we don’t know that.

I also think there might be a little bit of self projection onto her. Which happens, and isn’t a bad thing unless the narrative being pushed from that isn’t true. People really want them to be a thing because she’s not like the last girl. She’s much more normal. She has tattoos, and is shorter, curvier, and still objectively beautiful, but she could be compared looks wise to a lot of fans, myself included.

I think people desperately want them to be together, which is fine, but she still doesn’t need all the unwanted attention. Together or not let’s try not to say mean things (which most of what I have received is not mean, good job yall! 🤝 ), I think that it’s good to just see how things play out.

I know that 🐋 put an end to the conversation earlier, and I’m gonna put an end to it now after this. But I really just needed to say this because I’ve been thinking about it for a while and I wasn’t sure if anybody else felt the same, but I feel like there’s a lot of self projection and desire for this to be anybody else other than the last girl. And the idea of him possibly dating somebody normal who may, or may not (I’m not saying yes or no), be a fan or was a fan is very appealing to the current fans. It makes people feel like they have a shot.

But in all honesty, nobody knows what the relationship is. Do they know each other, or not?. The people who say there are too many coincidences, have a valid point and the people who say but they don’t make sense, Also have a point.

I hope you guys are having a great day and thank you for reading this if you do. I love all of you guys and I think we’ve had a great discussion over the last day or so, but until something else happens, or unless something else happens, we have to table this. I tried to avoid talking about her as much as possible, but it was going to be impossible to ignore what happened yesterday.

#anonymous asks #🛼answers

0 notes

babybluebex · 3 years

Text

laszlo kreizler nsfw alphabet

so yeah this... Happened. the zemo version is coming soon, stay tuned! (probably tomorrow morning bc a bitch is tired lmao)

(gif credit to @lindir)

A = Aftercare.

Laszlo is such an aftercare king. He’s checking on you in every way he can think of: asking you if you feel alright, maybe massaging your hips if he had you in a weird position, offering you dinner or wine, maybe even a hot bath, if you’d like (and the bath would have special perfumed oils he had sent from Paris because Laszlo is SUCH a self care whore, he’s got soaps and perfumes out the wazoo).

B = Body Part.

His favorite part of yours are your breasts. No questions, hands down. He likes using your breasts as a pillow at night— just settling himself between your legs and resting his head on your tits is a dream he indulges in frequently. He also really loves seeing you in the new French-style of dresses that have a lower neckline, and, if you wear one of those dresses to dinner without telling him beforehand, he’s as good as gone. He’s staring the whole time and can only manage simple sentences.

C = Cum.

I think Laszlo likes to cum inside you, but he also wouldn’t mind cumming on your tits. If you’re on your knees, sucking him off, he’ll pull himself out of your mouth and almost rip your blouse in his haste to set your tits free before his orgasm rips through him. He only chooses to cum inside you if he can’t cum on your tits (for example, if you’re having slow, kissy sex and he can’t bear to leave your wet heat).

D = Dirty Secret.

Laszlo. Loves. To. Be. Degraded. From a psychological standpoint, he understands that his desire to be brought down and ridiculed is born from some sort of childhood trauma that DEFINITELY involves his father, but he just can’t help himself from getting so ridiculously turned on when you call him a dog for humping your leg while you try to sleep. Bonus points if you use his title while you do it: “Just like a little bitch in heat, aren’t you, Doctor Kreizler? You’re so aroused, you can hardly handle yourself. Are you too dumb to touch your own cock? Do you need me to do it? Oh, Doctor, what a dumb little thing you are.”

E = Experience.

Even Daniel himself has said that Laszlo has like NO experience. Laszlo got ZERO bitches (which I find hard to believe but ok whatever you say, writers of The Alienist), so, the first time y’all have sex, he’s more likely than not losing his virginity (let’s not get into the debate of “virginity is a social construct” because a.) IT IS and b.) Laszlo would lecture for hours about this). HOWEVER, these things come naturally to him. He is just Good In Bed. He figures it out very quickly, so, while you make fun of him for going a little stupid when he’s aroused, he makes up for it by bruising your cervix and apologizing later.

F = Favourite Positions.

Laszlo loves that soft, slow, kissy sex, so he’s into whatever position makes it possible for him to be inside you and to kiss you at the same time. Missionary is a go to, but sometimes he’ll have you sit on his desk and kiss your neck as he hikes your skirts up and fucks you all slow and nice.

G = Goofy.

Hardly ever? Laszlo is pretty serious most of the time, and the only time we ever see him Not Serious in the show is when he’s wasted after John’s bachelor party in season 2. So, maybe y’all went to dinner at Delmonico’s, then a ball for members of high society, and he had a little too much champagne and schnapps. He’s not like giggling and all, but his cheeks are red and he’s smiling more than usual, and calling you sweet names “Oh, mein Kätzchen” and “Meine kleine Prinzessin”. That’s Laszlo’s version of goofy.

H = Hair.

OK, my train of thought here is: LOOK AT THIS MAN’S BEARD. HIS BEARD IS NICE AS SHIT. If he treats his facial hair that good— regular trims, the beard oils we all know he uses, even if it isn't strictly canon— then his downstairs hair is nice too. Definitely soft, if maybe a little wiry sometimes (but tbh whose isn’t), and it’s a nice little cropping at the base of his cock. He also has a thin happy trail up his soft tummy, and a good amount on his chest (as we see in the show lol that much is canon).

I = Intimacy.

Laszlo is ALL ABOUT intimacy. You’ll know he’s in a ~mood~ because you’ll ask what’s being served at Delmonico’s that night, and Laszlo is like “I thought we might stay in tonight. John gave me his grandmother’s recipe for chicken soup”. He’ll light candles and pour you wine and play nice music on his gramophone, and he’ll romance you throughout dinner with little hand touches and sly smiles, until he’s kneeling in front of you and slowly kissing up your leg.

J = Jack-Off.

Honestly, he hardly does it. Of course, I’m sure he did it A LOT before he met you, but now he doesn’t need to pleasure himself anymore. He’s got you to do that. The only exception is if he has to travel for work and you can’t go with him. Even then, he’ll hold off until he absolutely can’t stand it, and then he’ll like read a letter you sent him or look at a sketch that John did of you while he whacks off; sometimes, he’ll just hold your letter to his face, and the faint trace of your perfume is enough to do the job.

K = Kink.

He likes impact play a lot (and perhaps a little roleplay wrapped up in it). On the rare occasion that his fucking is anything but soft and lovely, he’s gonna be hitting your ass and the backs of your thighs as you cling to him while he rails you stupid. Laszlo would try to hit your cheek, but he feels too bad when you wince at the pain of it. Spanking your tits is good to him too. His favorite though (and here’s where the roleplay comes in), is caning your ass. He’ll bend you over the desk in his home office and pull your skirts up past your hips, and he’ll make you count the amount of times his thick wooden cane connects with your soft asscheeks. The roleplay is, more often than not, you were his assistant who did something wrong and needed to be punished. If you miss one or forget to thank him accordingly “Thank you, sir”, he’ll focus the next hit on your thighs.

L = Location.

Either the bed or his desk. Laszlo is a little older (I don’t think we ever get an explicit age? But if we say he’s the same age as Daniel, then he’s 40 to 42-ish) so he can’t do it against a wall or anywhere too crazy (not to mention his right arm can hardly support much weight, so if he needs to hold you up, it’s probably not gonna happen). The bed is a special time for you two because of his arm; he’ll hold himself up with his left arm and rest his hand on your hip or wherever to give himself at least a little leverage. But the desk is usually easier because you can sit, or you can bend over and he can grab your hip.

M = Motivation.

He loves you and wants to worship you. It’s truly as simple as that. He loves you and thinks that you’re the most beautiful creature he’s ever seen, and he wants to show his reverence for you by making love to you.

N = No.

He can’t get into the role of “daddy”, nor can he call you “mommy”. Childhood trauma aside, he will be goddamned if Sigmund fucking Freud is correct about his bullshit Oedipus complex or whatever, so he just eliminates that whole thing entirely.

O = Oral.

He’s very good at it. He’s just… His lips are soft and his beard is good, and he’s not afraid to get a little messy with it. He’ll eat you out until he absolutely has to come up for air, and he’ll have a little bit of your wetness clinging to his mustache, but then he’s right back in it. His medical degree is also put to good use here because he remembers his female anatomy and he’s locked onto your clit the entire time. The first time you ever squirted, it was because Laszlo was nipping at your clit and sucking your wet little hole and pressing his thick fingers into you, and it was A Lot To Process, but you squirted and Laszlo came in his pants instantly because he’s like “I didn’t think women could actually do that… I thought that was a thing that penny novels made up”

P = Pace.

Again, he’s a little older, so he doesn’t fuck like some wild boy. He takes his time with you, touching you and caressing you and kissing you, and his pace is the same way. He’s slow and gentle, but has the capacity to go faster and harder if you ask for it.

Q = Quickie.

Hates them. Never. Never ever ever. If he can’t properly romance you and take his time with you, then what’s the point??

R = Risk.

Surprisingly, Laszlo is a little schemer, and he loves running a risk. He’s already looked down upon by other society members, so what’s the harm in squeezing your ass at a party? PERHAPS it’s inappropriate to get caught in a dark corner with your hand down his trousers and him kissing your neck, but it’s easy to blame it on the alcohol.

S = Stamina.

Once more, he is firmly middle aged, so he can do one round— maybe two, if he’s feeling particularly frisky. Usually, though, one is more than enough for both of you.

T = Toy.

HAVE YALL SEEN SEX TOYS FROM THE 1890S?? SHITS ARE SCARY. Laszlo does not like toys, but he understands their need for existing, so he may not like them but he tolerates them. That being said, he likes to watch you use them. LIke, he’ll sit in a chair by the bed and request you “put on a good show”, and he’ll watch you fall apart, and he’ll only come and touch you if you beg and plead for him to.

U = Unfair.

Mhm, so, in Laszlo’s mind, sex and pleasure are not just a give and take, it’s a two way street. They can (and often need to) coexist. He doesn’t like to initiate something if you won’t be able to reciprocate, so he’s not too into teasing or things. At the aforementioned parties, he’ll only goose your ass if he knows you’re 100% down for it.

V = Volume.

He’s fairly quiet. His mouth is usually really close to your ear, and you’re the only one who gets to hear his pretty little noises. The loudest he’ll be is when he’s come home after traveling and it’s felt like ages since he’s made love to you, he’s gonna come inside you, and his little gasp and moan are louder than usual.

W = Wild Card.

He is down to be tied up. He doesn’t like to tie you up, but if he’s the one being restrained, he’s all over it. It’s nothing too intense, just using a ribbon for your hair to tie his left hand to the headboard, not super tight but enough to make his fingers a little tingly, but he loves it. He loves the switch of the dynamic, how he’s fully at your mercy and you can use him however you please; usually, you just suck him off and ride him, but the endless possibilities get him hard as soon as you pull out the ribbon.

X = X-Ray.

Laszlo has Big Dick Energy, so he has to have a big dick. The best example of this sort of energy is in the very first episode after he goes and interviews Wolf, and comes to speak to Teddy, and Teddy is like “you interviewed the suspect? On whose authority??” and laszlo is like “Mine” like OH HIS DICK IS BIG I KNOW IT. He’s got an above average length and girth, but we know our man likes to eat, so some of his weight goes to his dick, so it’s like,,, He’s got a fat cock, sorry, I don’t make the rules

Y = Yearning.

Constantly. Neverending. He’s at work and he’ll catch a glimpse of a pastel drawing that you commissioned from John for Laszlo’s birthday that sits in a frame on his desk, and his heart starts to hurt from missing you. When he comes home, he’ll embrace you and kiss you like he hasn’t seen you in years, and he’ll want to hear all about your day. You have your doctor so whipped for you, and it’s a different kind of whipped than being pussy whipped. He’s, like, feelings whipped.

Z = ZZZ.

He’s a sleepy little baby after you guys finish. His eyes will be a little heavy and sticky as he’s cleaning up and caring for you (and you definitely coo at him “Oh, Las, you’re so sleepy!”) but when you’re both back in bed, our little man is circling his arm around your waist and nuzzling his cheek into your shoulder. He’s so soft and affectionate, and he’s out like a light when you kiss his forehead and tell him you love him.

#laszlo kreizler #the alienist #laszlo kreizler smut #daniel bruhl x reader #daniel bruhl smut #daniel brühl x reader #daniel brühl smut #laszlo kreizler x reader #daniel bruhl #daniel brühl

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burnedbyshoto · 3 years

Text

go the distance

(will you) go the distance

— You’re perfectly content in life except for the fact that you are not dating Deku. When his best friend won’t help you out, you turn to the dark side to get what you want.

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pairing: pro hero!midoriya izuku x bad villain!reader

warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, manga spoilers, pro hero!au, villain!reader, ofa usage for sex lol, size difference, manhandling, public sex, slight degradation and praise, deku eats his cum outta ya pussy, big dick deku, corruption but make it opposite, deku is a pervert change my mind

word count: 12,715

a/n: well, yall already knew I wanted to make this fic a reality, so here it is for bnharems villain collab!! check out all the already amazing stories if you haven’t already. thank you to kara, sky, and jo for reading this for me because lmao im ass rn. I’m gonna go to bed because I partied a bit too hard last night.

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your quirk: distortion – can make afflicted persons vision shift 6 cm to the left or right at the cost of having their own vision shift the same way

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“Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcasted rumors of a villain running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures, and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning.

“Road maintenance endeavors to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before.

“Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city?

“Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved, but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city, please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary. One thing we know for sure: we can no longer rely on Heroes to protect us. The streets of our once-great city are no longer safe, we are no longer safe.”

The female reporter closes her eyes, despite still being on the air, her eyebrows furrowed as she exasperatedly sighs.

“Was that good enough, Mirage?”

You look at her with a pout, your eyes then clenching shut as your lips move with unsaid words as you motion for the cameras to stop rolling. You tilt your head right and left, muttering a bit.

“Did that seem better to you this time? I don’t know, I don’t think it was scary enough...”

You open your eyes to see the exasperated reporter looking at you as if she personally sought to end you right where you were sitting.

“You are the worst villain I’ve ever encountered,” she deadpans, and you laugh in agreement.

You weren’t really a villain.

If you must put a label on what you were, you would say that you were the best PR head any hero agency could ask for. You were, after all, the top student graduate from UA’s Business Course and had been ushered into a condensed agency the moment you were finished taking your graduation pictures.

And well, if you are actually curious about the… villainy, you would like to uphold and continue to stress that you weren’t a villain! You were just a public nuisance – like those stupid YouTubers – with the ability to garner Pro Heroes’ attention! People had no reason to scoff at what you did on the daily.

You took both of these jobs very seriously!

It was like being straight out of a comic for you!

A simple – hopefully should the heroes you’re in charge of not be stupid – nine to five job by day, and a badass, crime-committing, sexy as shit villain by night! How could anyone ever hate you for your lifestyle! How could anyone ever hate you?!

But we are all noisy people, and everyone wondered just why you became a villain because you had a beautifully stable job with an impressive salary! Why would such an amazing woman such as yourself dabble in the evilness of humanity?

Well, you did have an answer for the public.

“Why do you engage in evil, villainous schemes?” the reporter deadpans, absolutely and utterly not being paid enough to humor you in this forced interview.

The public loved drama, pizazz, a little showmanship even from what they deemed humanities worst! So, you told the world why you chose to be evil instead of good:

“Because I want to be!” you grin, flashing a pose as you make your away from the interviewer you had very much illegally forced to interview you. “And because a hero killed my cat!’

Of course, that was a lie! Why would you ever hand over the real reason as to why you decided to become a villain! You’d be laughed right out of Japan, possibly be murdered by a horde of fangirls!

For you see, there was one reason and one reason alone as to why you decided to take your place within the villainy hall of fame. Why you chose to do more in your day outside of your already demanding job.

And that one reason was: Pro Hero Deku, civilian name Midoriya Izuku.

Now, trying not to come off as some creepy, weirdo, stalker fangirl, you could fully admit that you were in love with the stupidly large hunk of a man that debuted as an official pro a year before you graduated from high school.

You remember how the world was finally recovering from the year-long nightmare that had ensued. To be honest, you were stupidly surprised you had even managed to graduate, given that most of schooling had become somewhat of a joke.

FIVE YEARS AGO, MARCH, 2XXX:

It had been in the evening, the clear blue sky becoming ruby red and blood orange as you made your way out of campus. The air somehow smelled of sweet hay and gasoline, but you didn’t mind. There was hardly anyone out at this time, most students had made their way home already, and the only sounds were the moving cars of businessmen just trying to get back home.

There really wasn’t any reason to suspect anything to go wrong, this was a simple daily walk back home after school that wasn’t like any other. But then there had been a loud pop, an ever louder screech, and finally, you managed to whip your head in time to see a car tumbling through the air straight at you.

There was hardly any time to think, even less to react, and the only thing you knew was that you were not going to survive.

You braced yourself, eyes clenching and body curling, your mind screaming because this was not going to be the way things ended. But before it could happen, before the car could come down upon you and squish you like a bug under a shoe, something picked you up and you were weightless.

Waiting for an impact that never came, the tears that were endlessly streaming down your face were suddenly stopped by rough, warm fingers smoothly wiping them away.

“Hey, it’s okay! You’re safe now!” a voice says softly to you, endearingly warm and comforting. “I’m here, don’t worry.”

“Am I… did I die?” you whisper, unsure if you even want the answer, your eyes remaining closed because you refused to open them up to some angel that could confirm your death. “God, what an embarrassing way to die!”

“Oh – um, no! You’re not dead! I promise!” the voice laughs brightly, just softly enough that you believe him and not be entirely horrified by the amused reaction. Your eyes crack open slowly, just barely peering back into the world, still half praying you weren’t dead. But all you saw was green.

Green eyes, green hair, green clothes.

You blink, once, twice, realizing only then you were staring into the eyes of a boy about your age.

He had curly hair, freckles littering his face, and eyes that easily pierced through your very soul.

Without meaning to, your breath stopped, frozen in your lungs as you were captivated by a handsome man with a curving, beautiful smile.

“See, I told you it was okay!” he teased you, head cocking to the side as he grinned largely.

The action itself seemed to strangle the strangest noise out of your mouth as you realized suddenly and immediately that your face was burning and all you could think was:

A cute hero rescued me, a cute hero rescued me, a cute hero rescued me, acuteherorescuedme!

“Sorry about that scare! I would’ve caught that car sooner, but I wasn’t paying attention to who was around!” the green boy apologized, bowing deeply in front of you in his apology. “There’s a commotion just up ahead, so I recommend you take the next road over.”

You nod numbly, unable to conjure even the slightest hint of your voice again as he stood up to his full length. He was average in height it seemed, taller than you, but still not towering. The hero looked behind his shoulder, those big green eyes focusing onto the distance, onto something you couldn’t even begin to imagine – or see, really. He blinked and turned back to you, smile gone but the gentle aura to him remained, but now his face, his mouth, was underlined with a sense of urgency and engagement to whatever sent a vehicle tumbling your way.

“Which train do you take home?” he asked, eyebrows relaxing from his stern position, as his smile picked up again. “I’ll take you closer to your station!”

“B train,” you manage to wheeze out – unable to be the reason why he was held up but also confused as to just what he could do to get you closer to the station that was at least a mile away from here.

“Perfect! I know where that is!” he laughs for just a moment, and before you could even ask if this was going to be some escorted thing – because you definitely did not need it – his arms were fastly secured around you, and suddenly you were weightless.

A cold wind rushed against your face, nipping at your nose, cheeks, and ears, sending your hair flying around – into your mouth! Oh, you were screaming! You were soaring through the skyline, being held by some hero you couldn’t name, and you were screeching at the top of your lungs.

Making the mistake of looking down, your arms were suddenly around his shoulders, your voice growing even sharper and louder as you squeezed against his body and refused to let go. His hands, despite the gloves, were warm on your back, and his soft chuckle warming you from nose to toes as he secured his grip on you.

“I got you,” he spoke, “I won’t let you go, I promise.”

Those words don’t exactly ease you, but there’s a comfort to the genuinity to his words. You nod nonetheless, your face buried deep into his neck. The cold wind continues to whip around you, the only thing sounding in your ears is the cruel whipping wind and quiet city below.

“I’m landing now,” he informed you, body shifting in the wind, and reflexively, you clung even tighter to him, expecting the similar stomach dropping motion of a roller coaster going straight down. “You’re – ack – c-choking me!”

The knowledge of that, hearing the strain and entirely unhidden sound of him choking against the current chokehold you had on him, you released him entirely with a shriek of your own. Was it a smart move? No, definitely not because you were how many hundreds – if not thousands – of feet in the air with a quirk that could not, and would not save you.

“It’s okay! I’m fine!” he quickly said, his arms shifting around your waist as you felt your body weight drop just the smallest bit. To which your focus landed to the concrete floor so far down, and you began screaming again. He panicked just a bit too. “Y-You’re okay too! We’re landing! We’re landing!”

Soon, but not soon enough, the concrete floor came underneath your feet, and you practically felt your knees buckle underneath you. The train station behind you was practically invisible, and you felt the floor come in contact with your knees, and you collapsed onto your hands and knees. You could feel the tears streaming down your face as you wheezed and panted, unable to move from your position.

“Hey, look, we made it!” he laughed gently, probably being said in hopes that you would feel better. (It did make you feel slightly better, his laugh was light and pretty to listen to.) You could feel him approaching you, iron covered red shoes appearing before your vision. Looking up, you saw that the young hero was crouching, his face holding a wobbly smile that was earnest, worried, and full of unspoken hope. “I do need to get back, but before I do, are you good enough to be left alone?”

You blinked your soaked eyelashes at him, still largely unable to say anything at the cute hero in front of you who had a few scratches on his cheek, right below his freckles.

“Y-Yeah, um,” you say, your tongue cotten and lead in your dry mouth. “I-I’ll be fine, I think.”

The green eyed hero nods, offering you a hand and assisting you to your trembling legs, “That’s good to hear!” he chirped, his wobbly smile becoming a grand, bright grin. “You were really brave! I was impressed!”

Now, you were an idiot at times, but even you could spot a stupid lie. Still, hearing it said with such honesty, as if this hero who was no taller than five foot eight truly believed it, made something bubble in your chest, and soon you found yourself laughing.

“No need to lie to me, h-hero,” you manage to speak between stammering breaths, “thank you for saving me, though. I appreciate it.”

You grin crookedly at him, and to your utter delight, he reciprocates it.

“It’s the least I can do. I’d offer to take you home but… I’m not quite finished yet,” he says, and you can only nod, the conversation obviously reaching its last strides. You watch as he floats up, his eyes looking at you, but somehow focused how many miles away from where he had brought you from. “Stay safe?”

“I’ll try my best,” you agree to his question, hands clasping before your lap. “Finish the job quick, hero?”

He grins, “I’ll try my best.”

You feel a breathless sort of laugh escape you as you watch him beginning to shoot back up, but a sort of horror shoots through you as you rush forward, running right after him, hands cupping around your mouth as you scream:

“What’s your name?!”

The blur of green in the air freezes, and you stop running as you see green eyes and freckles focusing back onto you.

“Deku! My hero name is Deku!”

You stop at the curb of the street, eyes focused on the sky as the green eyed hero named Deku grins one last time before shooting off at a speed probably much faster than when he held onto you. The wind blows around you, and you can only feel the heat sitting on your cheeks and the way you’re smiling as you stare after his figure that's long, long gone.

“Deku...” you whisper to yourself, ignorant to the world of commuters beginning to appear at the station. “Thank you.”

And thus came the very apparent and obvious day in which you fell head over heels for Pro Hero Deku.

Now some people called you a stupid fangirl, obsessive stalker, and sometimes, yeah, you were obsessive and weird about your slight infatuation with a stranger. It was strange, you knew that! But you also knew that you had practically no chances of ever being able to woe the man behind the image of Deku because Midoriya Izuku practically existed as Deku 24/7.

After you graduated from high school, you were put into the same agency that was currently holding Deku. Without tooting your own rom-com obsessed horn too much, you fully expected to walk in and be handed Deku’s file as his PR manager and be able to thank him for not only saving you all that time ago, but also eventually sweep him off his feet.

But your reputation preceded you well, probably too well, because the first day you entered the office and was handed your list of three clients to work with, neither one was for Deku. Being a PR manager for heroes was hard, a job that practically held no set hours because, unlike your typical celebrities, heroes had no type of privacy or protection. They were constantly under the spotlight, being viewed by adoring fans and scornful critics. Your job served as the first line of defense for heroes against the public, and there were some heroes that were quite hilariously easy to work for because they were genuinely good.

The older PR managers typically held the quieter, easy tempered, or less combat heavy heroes. These heroes typically never had a bad thing said about them, their job was a glorified PA job but even less because there was no expected demands from the heroes they had to take in. Unless, of course, a hero wanted to do some sort of public event they hadn’t considered.

But there were the louder, quick to temper, or the heavy combat heroes that while made you an insane amount of money, also brought you a near 120 hour work week because there was so much to do, so much to consider, so much to keep your eyes on. There was the constant slander, the people who hated the louder, quick to temper heroes because they didn’t like their attitude, completely disregarding that they had been unsafe and a liability the entire time the hero was dealing with them. The talk shows that took months to convince to allow for an interview because they heard false rumors, and so you have to practically wrestle a boa constrictor to get a measly five minute interview done. And then the combat-heavy heroes… no one would ever shut up about building damages and how this hero broke his nose while he was stealing a store!

Not to mention having to have every single piece of social media on your phone, set to notify you whenever your clients names were brought up so that you could look at it. You’ve seen more than enough lewd drawings of your clients to last you a lifetime, enough fanfiction, and fan edits that left you with blazing cheeks and the need to never look at your client ever again. But mostly you checked each and every update because you were their first and only line of legal defense on these sorts of things.

You’ve taken down leaked nudes, fake news, and qualmed rumors and speculations.

It was hard.

So when you were shown to your desk on your first day and three files were handed to you, you were shocked to see the hero names you would be working with.

Dynamight

Phantom Thief

Shouto

Somehow, without having yet to speak with a single one of your now current clients, you knew that you were going to have your work cut out for you.

“Good luck newbie!” the woman who gave you the initial tour chirped, clapping you on the back. “You got this!”

Good lord.

Without much to do other than reading through the three’s files, you realized that you already knew a bunch about two of three of your clients. DynaMight and Shouto were two heroes that you knew teamed up with and hung out with Deku a lot, both on-field and off-field if any of the out of costume pictures said anything. Because of their connection with Deku, you had at one point learned a bit about them.

You knew that Shouto was a crowd favorite. He was tall and sweet and a complete airhead at the best moments despite him being smart. Controversy still surrounded his character, despite all the good he did, because of the past history that was brought out about his father Endeavor and his brother Dabi. The country couldn’t figure out where they stood in terms of that reveal. Endeavor did a lot before the reveal, and continued to rise up to everything in his path despite the skeletons in his closet being thrown out for the world to see. They neither forgave him, nor hated him, they only watched and waited. Then Dabi, of course, was seen as a could-have-been version of Shouto, and many tried to ask if he was really a hero and not actually siding with the League. After all, why on Earth would he be defensive of his father too?

The public had an unmoving image of Shouto based on anything but who he was as an individual, and you decided immediately that it would be your job to fix that. He was also, after all, a dear friend of Deku, so you’d do anything.

Phantom Thief was your easiest of the three clients. A relatively well mannered man who was kind and a bit weird in a fun way. He had a great sense of self and was a reliable person on the field. He made a great hero, but you could see the way his spirit blazed with an unspoken rivalry between him and the other two of your clients. Well, it seemed like he was the best until his former self appointed rivals came into the picture, but that was hardly ever, and according to Shouto, he was way worse back in their first year.

The greatest scandal he’s had so far in your three years of working at their agency was the one time he was lied to about a quirk and accidentally copied a woman's quirk that gave her the ability to change her cup size. Safe to say that Phantom Thief accidentally broke a few buttons on his shirt and was unable to stop civilians from snapping pictures.

But of course, the one that had you practically crying yourself to sleep nightly for more than one reason was Dynamight.

You’d known about him the moment you looked up Deku on your phone.

They were practically a hero duo in everything but name. They were always seen doing the same things together, whether that be on patrol together or maybe getting dinner, most of their top recorded fights were done with each other by their sides. You had also learned that they were childhood friends, and you practically vibrated at the thought that even though Deku was not your client, the chances of meeting him were still astronomically high.

There was no way you wouldn’t not meet Deku!

But you were wrong, so very, very wrong.

Turns out the hero duo in everything but name meant that Dynamight refused to let Deku be anywhere near him in the agency – the very small amount of time they spent in here. The few times they were in the same room, Dynamight absolutely refused to be interrupted because that was their paperwork hour. You had only ever been blessed with seeing green curls turning the corner as Dynamight gripped your forearm, refusing to let you follow.

“Like hell I’ll let you distract the shitnerd,” he stated simply, his red eyes narrowed as he stared down his nose at you. You opened your mouth, ready to defend your not so innocent intentions. “I’m not stupid, so don’t pretend like you won’t try anything.”

Your jaw snapped shut.

Safe to say that you couldn’t do anything about Deku so long as Dynamight was around.

But Dynamight as a client was exhausting to put it kindly.

There were so many opinions and thoughts and issues and praises coming from everywhere. Hell, even the fucking Americans and westerners had caught wind of the Wonder Duo at one point and while you were well knowledgable on their opinions on Deku, the ones on Dynamight were the ones that you had to focus on now.

People still called him a villain, so many unhappy with the fact that he still screamed and cursed and threatened. There were many conspiracy theories that he was working with the long dead League of Villains. They turned their nose up at the fact that he was childhood friends with Deku, claiming that no way an asshole like him could have ever been friends with him. And of course the bullying revelation that had come out shortly after your debut.

That had been a trip, one that had you even shocked as Dynamight approached the table in front of the media, his body calm and composed. You had watched as he simply said he owed nothing to the media, that he had already done all that he could to deserve his atonement and deserve Deku’s forgiveness. He had spoken clearly, concisely that it wasn’t any of their damn business as to what he did, and if he apologized to them, the unaffected, the ones that had nothing to do with his early years of bullying Deku, of his previous weakness and insecurity, it would be a waste of his breath.

It isn’t to them he should ever be apologizing to anyways.

You had watched as he stood up, face calm, and hands shoved into his pockets as he stood and walked away despite the screaming reporters. You had wanted to stay longer, have your own hand in damage control, but a swoop of green came in and Deku was at the microphone eyebrows furrowed as he pointed a finger at them all and said that his past with Kacchan was between him and Kacchan only, and his decision to forgive Kacchan were his and only his.

You didn’t hear the rest, didn’t even get the option to hear the way the hero you loved defended the hero you worked for – his childhood friend.

No.

Dynamight had grabbed your elbow and dragged you out of the room with him, the metal doors clanging closed the moment fierce green eyes met yours.

You watched in the company car as Dynamight looked outside the window, one elbow on the doorframe holding his chin; his gaze focused sharply on nothing but the passing sidewalk. Had it not been for the way the hand on top of his lap trembled, you would have thought he was perfectly okay.

Neither one of you talked about that again.

But just because you didn’t talk about it again, didn’t mean the world was the same. People claimed he brainwashed Deku, others demanded that Deku beat the shit out of Dynamight. You knew that Dynamight would want nothing to do with this, but you would stay in the office (an almost useless, empty office as most PR managers did their business at home) for hours long after you were supposed to be gone, practically arguing with someone who only existed behind a screen and didn’t even care that much – but you couldn’t stop.

Seeing Dynamight’s shaking hand had really done a number on you.

“The hell are you still doing here, eyelashes,” Dynamite asked from the dark entrance of the floor. “Go home already, don’t waste your time.”

You had startled at the initial intrusion, but you immediately relaxed seeing the smudged paint around red eyes and blond hair. You barely kept your gaze on him before turning back to your computer and continuing your argument.

“I’m not wasting my time, I’m doing my job,” you remark, eyes squinting at your keyboard because your vision is definitely blurry. “I’ll be heading out soon anyways.”

“God you’re fucking annoying and stubborn!” Dynamight barked, the heel of his hand slamming into his forehead. “This is exactly why I won’t introduce you to the fucking nerd!”

“What?!” you shriek, suddenly looking at your client as if he had personally attacked you – and in a way he did. “What do you mean you won’t introduce me to Deku because of that?! I’ve already met Red Riot, Chargebolt, Cellophane, and Pinky through you!”

“Yeah, because they’re not stubborn idiots too!” Dynamight accuses, jamming a gloved finger at you as he begins stomping your way. You startle, your chair shooting backward as the explosion hero makes his way towards you at alarming speed.

“What are you—?!” you shriek, hands flailing about as he grabs you by the collar of your distressed shirt.

Dynamight lifts you up to your feet as if you were a sack of flour and you grasp onto his forearm.

“I might tell you that you’re the most annoying and stubborn bitch in the world, but you’re not worse than fucking Deku,” Dynamight sneers, his red eyes narrowed and stern. “I’m not going to let you meet him until you learn how to give or you’ll hurt him, and I’m not going to be part of any reason as to why he gets hurt again.”

Your jaw dropped, clearly offended, but you closed it just as fast; the weight of his words made you a bit sad, even for just a bit.

“You’re kinda cute when you care for Deku, you sure I’m his biggest fan?” you tease, grinning at the hero to which he rolls his eyes.

“Shut the hell up and go home already; it’s annoying seeing you fight a losing battle that’s none of your damn business,” Dynamight simply said, putting you back onto your feet and blocking out your desk.

“I’ll go home on the condition that for my birthday you at least consider introducing us!” you say, unwilling to move from your spot. “I’ve been working for you for three years! You’ve kept me away for three years!”

Dynamight’s stare didn’t even shift the slightest millimeter, his red eyes unamused as you groaned in grief and annoyance.

“I’m stubborn? Have you met yourself?!” you grumble snatching your jacket and purse from the hook on your cubicle and shoving them on. “My names God of Explosion Murder: Dynamight and I am Stubborn™ but will never admit it.”

You continued mocking your long time client and most definitely friend if you dared to say so, and dragged the heel of your foot all the way to the elevator to which you were joined by Dynamight. The trip down the elevator is silent, and you keep your gaze locked on the closed doors, unwilling to even look at the hero next to you.

Soon enough, the elevator reached the ground floor, and you got ready to walk out.

“I’ll consider it,” Dynamight said as the elevator doors opened. “Also, fucking stop calling me Dynamight, Bakugou’s fine.”

He walked off the elevator with his hands shoved into the pockets of his pants.

“Thank you, Bakugou!” you shriek, your lungs failing you at the thought of finally being introduced to Deku! You hadn’t moved from your spot from the elevator, your chest hammering with the thought of getting to meet Deku.

“Don’t get your hopes up, you’re still irritatingly stubborn,” Bakugou merely calls over his shoulder before lifting his hand in a halfhearted wave before stepping out of the glass door.

That brought you back to reality just a bit and you scowled, knowing you would have to go beyond and above to prove that.

But you see, there were many reasons to cry about having Bakugou as your client. Besides the stinkhole of his previous bullying, people just were not understanding his typically prickly exterior. You had to go head to head with reputation tarnished, had to slap fangirls away who demanded that Bakugou degrade them where they stood. It was hard to not be stubborn as not only his PR manager but his friend, and in less than a month, still plenty of time before your birthday, you had already grown irritated of the meeting-Deku-card he waved over your head.

“Mei, if I have to go any longer than this, I will die and hope I am reborn as Deku’s new guardian angel,” you pouted, chin pressed against a cold metal tabletop. Your hands being used as glove models for one of your best friends Hatsume Mei. “It’s first of all impossible getting anywhere near him with his guard dog Bakugou literally stopping me whenever I’m within a ten foot radius! And then I’m not even sure what will happen when we do meet again! Would I even be able to talk to him?!”

“Why wouldn’t you? You talk to all my babies with me! There’s practically nothing you can’t do,” Mei laughs, smacking you against your back before returning her intense gaze back to the gloves. “Deku’s uh… I actually can’t remember him but I’m sure he’s a great conversationalist! I think he helped me with the Sports Festival my first year.”

“That was Iida,” you laugh, wiggling your fingers as Mei demanded. “You’re so bad with names and faces, I’m impressed you know mine.”

“You saved my baby, of course I remember you,” Mei turned her grin towards you, “but come on, why can’t you get with him besides this Bakugou guy?”

“Well, he’s just like Bakugou! He’s practically married to his job! Their schedules basically match together perfectly! There’s literally only three hours a day while they’re on the job that they’re not together! And that’s when they patrol their own parts of town because there’s hardly any activity they don’t need to be attached by the neck.” You explain and rant, your cheeks puffing as you stand up and allow Mei to run further tests on the glove.

“Sounds like you gotta become a villain to woo this hero guy, huh,” Mei spoke, eyes focused on the glove as you pointed a finger at the far wall and watched as a beam exploded from the fingertip and pierced through the steel wall like butter. “Too bad you’re a goody two-shoes or else I could make you some serious villain gear and make you a fearsome villain to then prove that Hatusme Mei’s babies and creations are untouchable and the best in the world! Muah-ha-ha-ha!”

You know her words are more joking than serious, but that doesn’t stop your eyes from widening. Your body shifts over to where she was standing and you screech pointing at her and just narrowly missing setting off the laser again.

“THAT'S IT!”

“What’s it?” she asked, completely confused.

“You have to make me a villain!” you exclaim, rushing over to Mei, who is eagerly waiting for her babies returnal especially since it ran perfectly. “You have to make me near-invisible gear that can keep me going toe to toe with Deku until I can seduce him!”

“You want to turn evil?” Mei questions, finger pressing quizzically to her chin. “That doesn’t seem right.”

“I am definitely not villainous to pull that off, but like I pretend to be a villain so that he talks to me and we can like get to know each other!” you exclaim, you’re unable to keep from hopping up and down on your feet, your grin unfathomably bright. “It's practically a romcom in the making!”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Mei laughs, altering the band of fabric around your waist. “You do know heroes and villains hardly speak? It’s more like… ‘I’m more powerful,’ ‘No me!,’ ‘No, ME!’”

“Um, I’m pretty sure that’s not true, but whatever! I’ll figure out a way!” you continue on unaffected because this plan was genius! Especially if you had Mei in your corner?! Her recent development of not using such… steampunk designs made her creations elusive and dangerous to own. Hence why she was an extremely sought out manufacturer, by villains and heroes alike. “And if I can go toe to toe with Deku of all people, you’ll know that you and your babies are the undeniable best!”

“Hm, that is promising,” Mei agrees with a nod as she forces you around. “Is this Deku guy all that good?”

“He’s the one you made the iron soles for!” you chirp and watch as the recognition and challenge spark immediately in Mei’s yellow eyes.

“Oh,” Mei chuckles, turning away from you and looking at her pile of made babies. “This would be good.”

“So we have an agreement?” you grin excitedly.

“Give me a month, and we’ll have your debut!”

Fuck Bakugou for thinking you weren’t good enough!

You hadn’t expected the initial phases of villainy to be quite as hard as it was, if you were being honest. The late nights at Mei’s personal lab made sure to keep your plans a solid secret, but you had to prepare for the wild range of what Deku’s quirk entailed.

There was smoke, something you were already used to working in because of Bakugou and his quirk. You’ve navigated quite a bit in his smog, and as long as you knew where you were, you would be fine.

There was also that danger sense, which allowed him to know when things were coming – something that shouldn’t be too big an issue considering you weren’t actually attempting to extract danger onto him.

Blackwhip was a big issue. How far or how much could you do if he even grabbed a hold of you. With sleuthing and the help of Mei having files on everyone's quirks, you were able to find information that blackwhip was a creation made of energy. Meaning that Mei was now making some type of destructing material to lessen the energy of the quirk, allowing for you to escape should he attempt to capture you this way.

Float was stopped by having most of your fights occur within a confined area, which was needed for you anyways! You didn’t need to be caught by anyone else but him! You didn’t actually need to land in jail – you would prefer to not be handled by anyone but Deku, actually.

Then of course the stupid superstrength and superspeed, both of which you knew you could handle with your quirk. You’ve been head to head with people with quirks similar to that before, and you knew your quirk was tricky enough that you’d manage to slip right past his fingers just fine. After all, you knew full and well that the Deku who took down S class villains was worlds quicker than F class villains – aka you.

You would be fine.

But today was day one, first of how many days it would take to get Pro Hero Deku, aka Midoriya Izuku to fall in love with you.

You were dressed in a black and purple bodysuit that was definitely not inspired by Shego from Kim Possible’s costume. Your hair was dyed purple by a special spray Mei created that would be washed out by the end of the day, but wouldn’t ever give away that it was fake. You wore a mask over your eyes, and grinned seeing that you couldn’t see a fleck of color on your irises.

Perfect.

And with far too much confidence, nauseating excitement, and unjustified attitude, you marched down towards your first spot, ready and adopting the identity of who you were about to become.

Mirage.

It was time to act. Deku and Dynamight were on different patrol routes right now, and you sent your threat, readying for the moment for the man in green to come in with the desire to stop you. With the very real threat of stealing every puppy within the tristate area being broadcasted within the area unless and hero bests you, you waited for your savior to come and stop you.

“I am here to stop your villainous acts, you villain!” a voice shattered the silence just as it shattered your heart. You looked over your shoulder to see some hero you couldn’t name standing at the other stairwell entrance with his fists clenched and ready to fight.

You groaned, shoulders crumbling with your well hidden disappointment.

“I wasn’t looking for you!” you exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at the flabbergasted hero who was just trying to figure out what was happening. “Where’s Deku?!”

“He’s – he’s not here yet,” he stammers, eyes wide. “It’s not his day anymore to patrol this area?”

“Aw fuck!” you complain, pouting at the realization that you had messed up. “Okay, I’ll be back later, please don’t come back. Bye!”

With a small wave, you easily stepped through the door to the stairwell next to you and left, your threat empty and the hero victorious despite not actually stopping you. And unfortunately, although you had wished and prayed even, this was not the last time a screw up like this would happen.

At the threat of destroying all the cats in the area, you had another hero show up, not Deku, and you groaned and left before they could even finish their call of stopping you.

You then threatened to poison the watering system, to which you found out that Deku was held up at another major villain threat in a different city. You groaned and stomped off after that.

Then there was the time you swore you would increase the overall temperature of the city per one degree celsius should your demands not be made. Shouto answered that one and you immediately walked away the moment you saw the familiar head of red and white coming your way.

Time and time again you kept being caught by heroes you could not care about, being confronted by no names and nobodies. It was tiring, and Mei was beginning to sigh just the smallest bit whenever you showed up to try yet again.

But you weren’t a quitter!

You would win!

This was your last attempt at getting Deku to notice you.

After threatening to wrap all the citizens in the area with a giant froot by the foot, you were almost sad to say that the heroes ignored your cry for chaos and no one had come to check on you.

You sat outside the building you used as your trap for Deku, pouting into a hot dog that the neighborhood's grandma gave you because you looked like you needed something to eat. It’s a good thing you weren’t actually a villain or else they’d be fucked, you bitterly thought as you took another bite of your food.

It had been a month of empty, no Deku appearances, and you were going to bite the bullet and pretend to be not stubborn just so stupid Bakugou of all people could introduce you.

You kicked your feet as you sat on the staircase, humming as you watched the empty streets bend with the wind. It was quiet, beautiful, peaceful.

“YOU!” a voice shrieked to your left, and you watched a pudgy, red nosed man racing over towards you, a flash drive clenched in his hands. “TAKE THIS! RUN! DON’T LET THE HEROES TAKE IT!”

You gawked at him, feeling the small plastic device being shoved into your hands as the man collapsed at your feet. You squeaked when you heard a voice yelling stop and you bounced to your feet, turned into the building and raced in.

Your breathing was erratic, heart in your throat as you raced up the stairwell, unable to begin to imagine what the hell the information on the flash drive held. You were practically hyperventilating as you reached the floor you had come to know extremely well, and you stood near the window with shaky hands and legs.

What did you take?!

“I’m going to need that back, I’m afraid,” a low smooth voice said from behind you, and you froze immediately. Old anxiety overcome by a new anxiety, one that made your stomach flip and blood burn.

Turning around, you felt awestruck to see the one man you’ve been waiting for… for fucking years now, really, to appear before you, finally be there. In the flesh, completely, entirely. Your jaw dropped, your gaze looking down from your clenched hand that held the USB to the way that Deku looked at you with warm eyes that were underlined with steel that made you want to drop to your knees, confess everything, and beg to be his. God, he was so fucking tall. He had only been about five foot eight the last time you had actually talked, and now he was at least a foot taller. His teenager haircut was long gone, now replaced with his curls trimmed at the nape of his neck before filling out on top – not quite an undercut. He had more freckles now, surely. His skin just a bit tanner, a scar trailing from his cheek to his jaw. You knew there were more scars, just as you knew that there were dimples when he smiled.

You wanted to have him between your legs while you begged for mercy, holy shit.

Tucking the USB into your pocket, you tilted your head as you will yourself to relax.

“I went through all the trouble of getting it... I think if I’m going to hand it over quickly, I deserve to know what’s on it, no?” you tease, your confidence coming out of nowhere while a smile spreads ever so largely over your features. Deku’s eyes widened just a bit, shock overcoming his green eyes.

“I’m sorry, but that’s confidential,” Deku stresses, taking a step forward toward you. You click your tongue, taking a step backward while grinning.

“I don’t think that’s what I asked for,” you giggle as you watch Deku’s face go through an array of emotions before settling onto one – curiosity.

“What do you want?” he asked, apparently entirely ready to discuss any and all terms and conditions with you.

“Honestly?” you reply, tapping a gloved finger to your chin as you ‘think.’ Deku, however, nods. His stance relaxing, becoming one of preparedness but not the takedown he had previously entered with.

“A date with you.”

You watch as Deku’s eyes slam wide open, his jaw dropping immediately and he stammered. Oh, how your heart soared and how you felt giddy and wonderful as he seemed to slip and slide on his own tongue!

“A-A date?!” he ends up almost shrieking, his head shaking left and right. “T-That’s a total lie! You can’t possibly – well, no! Please tell me the truth!”

But you were giddy, practically drunk off the fact that you were making the most powerful hero in the world blush like a little schoolboy. You suddenly were on the offensive, stepping towards your hero who was much larger than you with power and drive behind each step. And it must have been the way you stared him down, the way you walked towards him at blank range with such brimming confidence that Deku takes a step back. But it’s something that makes you want to laugh as the heel of his foot gets caught on a raised tile, and you watch the mountain of a man tumble to the floor.

You’re on top of him immediately, hands pressed to his shoulders, knee settling near his crotch with most of your weight so he got the idea to not do anything funny. The USB sits between your fingers, and you lean over his flushed face that looks up at you with wide eyes.

“Actually, I changed my mind, I know what I want,” you say instead, nose ghosting over his. “Everytime I decide to do something… naughty… I want you to be the hero on the case to stop me. You and just you.”

You lean in closer, so close that you could see the specks of gold in his green, green eyes.

Deku hasn’t spoken, and you’re pretty sure his chest isn’t moving as you press your breasts against his.

“Understood, De-ku?”

Your teeth tug at his bottom lip and let go as he nods.

“Good, good,” you grin, sitting up on his chest and taking the USB in your fingers and slipping it into his utility belt. “Take good care of that for me, I’ll see you next time, hero…”

You had only managed to flash a quick wave before disappearing through your usual door, hoping and praying to god that whatever the hell possessed you would continue until you reached Mei’s. It wouldn’t hit you until much, much later than you had stunned Pro Hero Deku speechless within the first meeting.

Hell, you thought giddily as you answered Bakugou’s call about how he probably just got into a bit of a messy situation, maybe you do have the potential to woo him like this.

Thus truly began your descent as the villain Mirage.

It was quickly accepted and discovered that the moment you stepped into that costume and colored hair that you were the prey for Deku and Deku only. Most of your interactions with Deku occurred within buildings, and you used Mei’s gear to gain the final laugh each and every time to allow for you to escape. There were times, however, where you could be seen racing through the sky. Jumping from rooftop to rooftop as Deku followed after you, leaping, tumbling, and even catching you at times.

You flirted with him heavily, allowing yourself to be caught so that you could bat your pretty lashes and press your chest against his. It didn’t matter how professional he was, how good at his job he was, Deku was a pervert – so obviously a pervert it made slipping away almost too easy.

But because you had the world-renowned, world known Pro Hero Deku as the only hero on your case, soon the small block who had to play victims to your horrendous crimes became only a small percentage of people who were watching your crimes. These near daily crimes (or inconveniences/botherings as the people on the internet say to defend you and your actions) are becoming both a worldwide sensation, and so, it took nothing for you to continue having Deku at your feet and the world chipped in. So you agreed to do interviews, forcing uneager reporters to do segments on you so that the hype behind you and Deku’s relationship grew.

You didn’t want him to leave you, not until you got what you wanted, and unless you were an idiot, you were nearly positive you were almost there.

Why would you say that?

Well, a few reasons.

The first came about a week after you had first met Deku again.

You had joyously gathered the means to create a machine to shave down an eighth of an inch of everyone's shoes in the entire country of Japan without their knowledge. You had ever so evilly explained that the point of this was to ensure that for a full day, everyone would feel off and unbalanced but would not know why.

You had said this, grinning widely as you turned around to see Deku standing there attempting to fight off a very amused smile.

“I don’t think that would be all too evil, Mirage,” he called out to you, arms folding across his chest as he watched you set up the machine to do exactly what you said you would do.

“Mm, that’s what you say now, but just wait until you’re one of the losers stumbling around,” you say back, grinning as you turn around for just a second, wagging the knife at Deku from the distance.

“Well, regardless, you know I can’t let you do that,” Deku laughs just slightly, and you grin, standing up.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yes, so I’m going to have to ask you to stop right there.”

You giggle.

“Make me.”

You’re not sure what happens, but there’s dodging and weaving, spinning and sliding. You’re practically wheezing from how hard you’re laughing as Deku can not manage to land a finger on you with the help of Mei’s items and your quirk. It all comes to an end when instead of dodging, you throw yourself right at him, and Deku has not anticipated that.

His eyes are wide open and you fiercely grin as he falls back onto the floor, unbalanced and only slightly frantic. You have the knife pointed at his neck, the dull blade sitting gently on his skin.

“So, Deku,” you taunt teasingly, your teeth burying into your bottom lip for just a moment at the sight of the dark flash in his green, beautiful eyes. “Tell me one thing, or I’ll continue on with my vile plans.”

“O-Okay?”

“Are you single?”

The second attempt came a few many weeks later.

You had gathered about 75 tons of glitter bombs and were in the current process of making them one. You had plans of setting it off over Tokyo so that for practically the rest of eternity, the entire city would have glitter everywhere. The only thing is that you did have to glue the glitter bombs together because, well, no one made super giant ones.

“This is so annoying, there’s glitter everywhere, and I’m only ten glitter bombs in!” you complain to the ‘empty’ room but knowing full and well that Deku had appeared through the broken window at least five minutes ago.

“If it’s annoying to you, then shouldn’t you stop?” Deku replied and you grinned.

He really couldn’t stay quiet, huh?

“Well, if it’s annoying to me, then that means every one of my victims will also find it annoying. Win-win situation.” you say, turning around towards him and winking. Facing back towards the glitter bombs you scowl, “stupid fucking glue gets everywhere, too!”

“Regardless, you know I can’t let you do that,” Deku said as leveled as he could although you swore you heard a laugh in his voice.

“Just try and stop me,” you reply back stone cold.

You stand up and watch as Deku stands up from the windowsill and sighs just a bit too heavily.

“Guess I have to,” he says and shoots out before you’re well prepared.

Typically, and probably in any other situation, this would have been the end. Pro Hero Deku had come at you with the speed and power as he took out any other Class F criminals, but unfortunately for him, and definitely fortunately for you that glue was EVERYWHERE.

Deku’s hand was stuck onto your arm, and your chest was glued to his stomach, and you swear you never quite got the strawberry Deku references until right now.

The perverted hero burned scarlet, his face practically simmering with heat as your body became undeniably stuck to his. You had to fight off the vindictive smirk, the practically snarling grin as you could feel something hot and heavy twitch at your hip.

“Fuck,” Deku wheezed.

“Fuck, yeah,” you grinned.

“WHAT?!”

Deku could not look you in the eyes for about 10 more interactions following that, but you counted that as a win. But undoubtedly, your starred and favorite memory of it all was something that occurred just last week of the current present events.

You had stood on top of a building, threatening the entire government of stealing (i.e., cutting off) the aglet of their shoes and sweaters and then removing all the laces so that it would result in their wasted time and entire humiliation!

“I don’t think most people even know what aglets are, to be honest,” Deku said from behind you. You turned around to see that he was standing there with an unsuppressed grin. “It’s not a good enough threat.”

You go unfazed by his judgement, choosing to instead bat your eyelashes and push your hair behind your ear.

“Not a good enough threat, and yet, you’re still here?” you tease, enjoying the way pink flushes to his cheeks.

“Where else would I be?” he says, and you have to ignore the way your stomach fills with butterflies.

“You’re not cute when you flirt back,” you deadpan, biting your tongue harshly when he says ‘hey!’ “Enough chit chat, let me kick your ass now and then do what I need to do.”

Unlike probably what is 95% of the time, you made the first move today.

You were on the offensive, jabbing and weaving, sweeping and punching. Deku’s green eyes were nearly black as he watched you, analyzing and taking in your movements, countering them all without so much of an issue.

“I still don’t get your quirk,” Deku grunted as his hand swiped at the empty air. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“So then you can turn me in to the government who are still salty about their aglets? I don’t think so!” you say with a laugh, rolling out of the way as Deku lunges forward. “Try again, baby, I have full faith that you’ll get it.”

Deku puffed out a chuckle and lunged again, his huge gloved hand swiping at you, with nearly accuracy despite your quirk being on. But… he wasn’t exactly perfect.

RIIIIIIIIIP!

Cold air hit your breast and your jaw dropped as your very exposed breast appeared before you and Deku. Pro Hero Deku had torn the breast of your costume, the costume that you purposefully did not wear a bra for because you had wanted this exact scenario to play out.

“DEKU!” you screech, pretending to be modest and covering your tit as Deku finally yanked himself out of staring at your breast and whipped around.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry! I didn’t think that was going to happen! I didn’t even mean to look at your boob! It just sort of all happened too fast and it was very shocking! N-Not that you have an ugly boob or anything because actually I think you have a very great boob! But oh my god, I need to shut up please ignore me!” Deku spoke so fast in a matter of five seconds, and you couldn’t even tell him to come back as he sprinted away.

His ears burned red and you swore even as he was gone, you could still see the red of his ears illuminating the sky.

You laugh.

“What a perv.”

And so, we are back to the beginning.

Back to how you forced a local news channel to read your demands so that you could hopefully take your final bow as Mirage forever.

With the threat of having a machine that would make dogs bark at a frequency for hours on end until humans eardrums broke then bleed. You made your way to your typical building and hummed as you waited.

The world outside was the same as always.

There were a few people out, a few cars driving through the street, and a few birds chirping here and there.

It was peaceful.

“Don’t you think the new reporter thing was a bit dramatic?” Deku chuckled from behind you.

You were used to him approaching like that, used to him trying to portray being elusive and cool. In your opinion, it just made him dorky.

“No such thing as being dramatic when I’m trying to go head to head with the greatest hero ever,” you respond back effortlessly. You spin on your heel and look back at Deku, who is leaning against a doorframe that he most definitely is slouching on so that the top of his head doesn’t hit the frame. “Hi, Deku.”

“Hi, y/l/n,” he says with a soft smile, one that's slightly victorious, one that makes your stomach knot in a pleasant way.

“Ah, you discovered my secret identity,” you observe, grinning as you begin approaching Deku. “Should I be scared?”

“Probably not, I don’t think I could do anything to you,” Deku sighs, pushing off the door frame and walking towards you too. “You’re pretty amazing, y/l/n.”

“Let’s prove that then,” you grin while zipping forward.

As if the both of you knew that this was the end of the line, the final confrontation, the battle this time was different. It was showy, flirty, full of spins and side steps, playing a game of cat and mouse while dodging and weaving. You laughed as blackwhip dissolved around your costume, and you frowned as he began using more of his power to get from point A to point B much quicker.

You’re not quite sure how it happened, what exactly you did wrong, or maybe Deku just finally figured out the pattern you used for your quirk because suddenly you were being tackled from behind. You shrieked as the two of you went down, his body flushed on top of you, his chest pressing to your shoulders.

The both of you were heaving, panting, completely out of breath from the five minutes you took playing around. He holds your wrists in one hand, pinned above your head, and the other one is on your waist. You were trapped beneath him, unable to move the absolute unit of a man above you, arms and hips weak to his weight. You shoved your hips up, attempting to shift some of his weight off you, but you froze as he choked on a breath by your ear.

Your ass was pressed against something hard, thick, and hot.

Oh.

Ohhh fuck.

It was happening.

Holy fucking shit.

Your breathing hitches as you thrusted your ass up again, confirming you were grinding on what was definitely Deku’s hardening cock. And once again, Deku makes the prettiest, most embarrassed gravelly grunt at the back of his throat and you feel like every strand of resistance and strength snaps.

The hand on your waist pulls you even closer against his crotch, and there's lips pressing against your neck, and you absolutely lose it.

He kisses your neck sloppily, teeth nipping at your exposed flesh, and you grind against him, moaning and thrusting back as your body feels like it's on fire. He wanted you! He wanted you and your plan to woo him worked!

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” you keen breathlessly. “Wanted you so badly, Deku.”

“Fuck,” Deku curses, his hips thrusting back against your clothed ass with power you couldn’t fucking wait to feel. “I wanted you too. Wanted you so badly, but didn’t think – holy shit.”

His hand that pins your wrists lets go of you, and moves to grab your jaw. You nearly fucking melt as his full lips slam against yours, and you moan as his lips move against yours. There’s something indescribable about how he’s kissing you, the want, the need, the months of suppressed tension bursting through every move and curve of his mouth. It doesn’t matter to you that you’re pressed up against the concrete floor, you feel like you’ve been placed into another world, an area where you can never come back.

Your arm reaches behind you and buries into his soft curls, you tug at them as your ass circles against his thrusting hips. His tongue slips into your mouth, and you whine at the hot, wet muscle in your mouth, and it sends your head spinning. You can’t take it anymore, you need him, want him flushed against your front.

“Can I fuck you?” Deku asks swollen lips pulling away from yours, his mouth frantic and trailing kisses up your cheeks and down your jaw. “Please, I wanna fuck you so bad. Wanna fuck you on the floor and against the wall. Can I make you mine?”

You nod your head frantically, unable to come up with the words to say in order to tell him yes.

Deku laughs breathlessly and flips you over so that it’s your back against the floor now.

And just like you want him to, Deku comes down to reclaim your mouth. Hot, open mouthed kisses, teeth tugging at your lips and hands grabbing your waist. His hands are huge against you filling up the space between your hip and your waist without an issue. Your legs wrap around his waist, feeling entirely small underneath him, but entirely ready to be fucked by him.

His lips move expertly against yours, teeth nibbling at your lips, mouth then sucking on your tongue. You can’t keep the continuous moans from leaking out, can’t keep yourself from staying quiet as your eyes flutter open and see green eyes so dark they look black, staring down at you with the intensity of a predator.

You were his prey, and you would present to him at the drop of a hat.

His body is hot, heat rolling off of his hero costume in waves, making you feel like you were near burning against him. And the heat between his thighs sits at the bottom of your ass, thrusting up and grinding against you so that you don’t forget even for a moment that you are making him this way.

“I always knew you’d have such a pretty moan,” Deku mumbles as his fingers find the zipper to your costume and begin to tug it down. His lips trail down your neck, biting and nipping at the newly exposed flesh. “Knew you’d look so pretty under me, waiting to be fucked into submission.”

The words spark something within you, your eyes fluttering as your hips grind just a tad bit faster and you whine.

“Aw, is that what you wanted this entire time, y/l/n?” Deku asks, his grin pressed against your collarbone. “Wanted to be stretched out and fucked until you can’t anymore?”

“I want it,” you gasp, your fingers burying deep into his curls. “I want you, I want it, I want your dick in me already!”

“Not into foreplay?” Deku chuckles just a bit, tongue then tracing up your neck.

“Oh I am,” you snap, fingers finding the zipper of his own costume. “You can find out later how much I’m into it, but right now, I have been wanting you for years, and you will not make me wait any longer!”

Deku only nods frantically, and it's a mess of limbs, sloppy kisses, and clothes as the both of you strip to nothing.

Deku’s in between your legs, one hand pressed to the back of your knee, the other gripping what you believe is his dick because it makes everything in the world freeze as you see it. It’s huge, so thick that his hand wraps around it in a nice grip, and it long, curling up to his abs, curved and veiny.

“Holy shit,” you squeak, your cunt already clenching at the thought of taking that in.

“Are you ready?” Deku asks, the hand on your leg moving away for a moment as he cards his fingers back through his hair. “I don’t have a condom, though.”

“That’s fine, I don't care,” you dismiss his words, eyes too focused on the flush cock in his hand. “I don’t think I’ll live after you kill me with that anyways.”

Deku laughs just a bit, his dimples flashing as he leans in and kisses you deeply. You tremble underneath him, feeling so small pressed up against him, and you mewl when you feel the head of his cock pressing between your folds.

“Put it in,” you gasp, leg lifting and wrapping around his waist, “put it in! I want you to fuck me until I can’t walk, do you understand?!”

Deku nods, and with a sense of frantic need, his hand guides his cock into you.

It feels like you’re splitting in half. The girth of his cock stretching your walls out to the max, and he’s only going in. You scream loudly, both in pain and pleasure because it hurts so good.

“Take it, baby, take me all in,” Deku pants, his hips pushing out small, tiny thrusts to ram his cock further and further into your twitching cunt. “That’s i-it, holy fuck, that’s it! You’re taking me all the way in. F-Fuck… you’re so amazing! So fucking perfect!”

Tears are pouring out of your eyes, and your nails are tearing into his back, you sob slightly overwhelmed with his cock and the absolute pleasure of finally getting what you want and it being so much better than you thought. Your cunt throbs almost violently as Deku’s cock finally hits your cervix and your eyes roll to the back of your head as he thrusts in further, lips attempting to claim yours.

“Fuck me, Deku,” you beg, hips beginning to slam and fuck up onto his cock. “Please! I need you!”

“Such a desperate little villain though,” Deku sighs, teasingly, giving you one strong thrust for good measure. It goes a long way though, the power behind his thrust and thighs promising you a bruised ass, thighs, and cunt makes your mouth water for more. “I need you to promise to never do anything like that again and be a good little manager for Kacchan.”

“W-Wha–”

“Be good and stop being Mirage, or else you won’t be fucked.”

There was no hesitation.

“Okay.”

And just like that, Deku’s soft smile curves into a knowing, fierce smirk, and you can do nothing as his hands press to the back of your knees and he begins thrusting his hips into you. And it takes you completely out of control.

It’s a messy, frantic dance, your body holding onto his, your lips pressing against his, desperate and needy for his, and he is basically trying to imprint his body onto yours, the concrete, and the walls. Your bodies are so foreign to each other, and yet, when he fucks into you just a bit hard, just a bit faster, you come undone, back arching and toes curling as you sob his name.

It’s overwhelming to know that he can read you this well and for you to have never fucked him before. It’s empowering to see that he likes every forced and involuntary squeeze and clench of your cunt. He loved when your nails dug into his skin, raking their existence against the plane of broad muscles and scars.

Deku curses your name as you clench around him, his hands moving to your jaw so that he can lift your face to kiss him just so. He kisses you with a heated passion, a need that strips your entire being bare, and his hips slam so loudly against you, the slicked wetness is squelching and slapping with every grunt and moan.

In and out his cock goes, and you praise him and his cock.

You praise him for making you feel so good, for stretching out your pussy with that fat cock of his. You beg for more, and more, and more. You want every snap of his hips to send new colors to your vision, and every echoing squelch of your meeting, sloppy sexes only adds to the blabbering, unmanaged sentences from your lips.

“Harder, faster, more!” you beg, practically wailing against his shoulders, needing him more and more. The concrete hurts against your back, but you don’t care. You don’t care if he breaks your back, it’s a fall you’ll take. “Don’t hold back! Don’t you dare hold back!”

“Fuck, you’re crazy,” Deku gasps, his sweaty brow burying into your cheek. “I won’t though, I won't. Be ready, I’m not sure if you can take it.”

Before you can snap back that you can in fact take it, Deku’s weight falls heavier onto you and the angle shifts just slightly, and your words are ripped right out of your throat for a pitched, window shattering screech. Deku fucks into you with a new power, some untapped strength as greenspark falls from his skin as he ruins you for anyone ever again.

Your voice begins to scream out, the feeling of his vicious, thick cock snapping into you, shoving your shoulders further and further into the concrete was sending your head spinning. Your body is convulsing as he fucks you with new vulgar need and strength. But before you could scream your praises, Deku’s fingers shove into your mouth, and his other hand wraps around your neck, silencing your words and noises as he fucks up into you again and again and again.

“So loud, angel,” Deku smirks, fingers stroking and pinching your tongue as saliva pours endlessly from your mouth. His voice isn’t strained however, doesn’t have any indication that he’s out of breath or ready to tap out and that nearly makes you go insane. “I can’t wait to see everything that makes you look like this… you’re so pretty when you’re getting fucked.”

Your head is spinning, the heated tightness in your core clenching and throbbing as his conquesting cock never once stops or lessens. It just grows and grows and grows. His cock twitches in you, and your eyes roll to the back of your head as he lets out a deep moan.

“Such a good and wet cunt you are,” Deku gasps as you gag against his fingers that press roughly against the back of your tongue. Your vision feels hazy, but you feel like you’re on cloud nine as his hand on your throat opens and closes, demonstrating his power over you. “I’m so glad you went through all this hard work to get me to fuck you.”

You can’t speak, so you nod desperately, you were so happy you did this too.

Your hips buck up into him with sheer stubborn drive to get him to toss his head back and moan, you wanted to see him unhinged too. Your eyelashes flutter, as his hands remove themselves from your face, and they move to your hips to help you out. But the building tightness and demanding need in your cunt was growing louder, hotter, completely undeniable. Your teeth sinking against his skin as you whimpered loudly, absolutely pathetically as you shifted faster, fucking against him harder.

“I-I’m so close,” you manage to moan out, and a sharp escape of air comes from his nose at that revelation.

Deku nods, his head moving so that his forehead rests against yours as he looks deep into your eyes. “I need you to look at the way your belly bulges while I fuck you before you cum, I want you to watch it bulge as you cum.”

You whimper, the strain in your neck almost insufferable as you peer down at your hastily exposed stomach, and you nearly faint at the pornographic, near-insane image of your stomach bulging with his hammering monster of a cock. And just like that, the tight heat in you snaps without a hitch, and you come tumbling down from the heights of your building orgasm. White heat and light spread through your body, your jaw slacking as you moan loudly, screaming his name as you convulse against him, body entirely limp. Deku, who was barely hanging by a strand, completely loses it when your core clenches like a vice against him.

Hot, thick ropes of cum spurt from his cock, his heavy, shaking gasps the only thing you can hear as he fucks into you once, twice more for good measure he collapses onto his forearms above you. It’s hot, almost too hot as he lays on top of you, the sticky fluid of his cum radiating against your already blazing walls, and for a bit, there’s silence.

Deku is the first to move afterward, and you whine as he pulls his cock out of your sore, abused pussy. You make a noise of curiosity then fear as Deku spreads your legs even more open and moves so that his head is face to face with your cum filled pussy.

“What are you–?!” you screech as Deku takes a lick out of your dripping cunt.

“Fuck, this does taste good,” Deku smirks as he once again licks your overstimulated pussy and you sob. “Besides, who said we were done?”

bonus!

“Everyone, this is my girlfriend y/l/n y/n!” Izuku happily introduced you to his group of friends.

“What the hell?!” Bakugou screamed, thrusting a finger at you and all you did was laugh.

So much for not being stubborn, huh.

#midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya smut #bnha #bnha x reader

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