#stepdad and stepdaughter vibes

[stolasbuckzo]

- One week later since Stolas’s banishment-

Blitz: *tries everything to cheer up Stolas / or take his mind off recent events but nothing works*

Loona: *She frowns as she knows exactly what she needs to do to cheer him up*. “Hey man why don’t we hang out today. You can pick the location but I was thinking either Loo Loo Land or Stylish Occult. I’m not overly a fan of taxidermy but— oof!” *gets interrupted by a tackled hug*

Stolas: “I know what you’re trying to do here, and than you very much, I appreciate the thought.”

Loona: “Look . . . I know I’m not actually your daughter or anything but if you ever need to take the edge off and hang out as if we were father and daughter then let me know and I’ll cancel plans, if I have any.”

Stolas: *starts to tear up from the hospitality from both Blitz and Loona over the past week* “By the seven rings of Hell— how did I get so lucky to have such kind people to give both shelter and a job.”

[gurugirl]

hi can u write something about step dad harry and yn going for a trip on a boat with her mom together and he secretly takes her to a room downstairs while her mom is upstairs and she rides his face and like his facial is covered with his arousal… u can add something more too& make it spicy?? theres just something about this photo, i couldnt resist

stepdad!harry x stepdaughter!reader

I started writing something else for stepdad!Harry but this just made my mind go blank for anything else because I can’t resist these photos and it’s summertime so we’ve already got the vibes going. Thank you for the request, babe!

Note: As a reminder Y/n is 22 and Harry is 28. Both are adults and met as adults. xoxo

Word Count: 2371

Warning: 18+ only, smut, the tiniest lit bit of degradation, cheating, inappropriate relationship between a stepdad and stepdaughter. Don't read if you don't like!!! xoxo

stepdad!harry masterlist

Your mom had rented a boat for a day over the weekend. She hadn’t had many days off but she wanted to have a day out in the sun with her two favorite people while summer was still in swing.

She even encouraged you to invite a friend to come along. So you did.

Harry could tell right away that you were being a little bit cheeky. He’d taken care of you the night before and told you to behave on the boat but you rarely did as he asked these days.

Your girlfriend Lei came along. She was focused on her cell phone most of the time which Harry found annoying too. He expected that you’d wear a cute little bathing suit that barely hid a thing but he didn’t expect it to expose nearly your entire backside. It looked closer to cheeky panties that were almost thongs than a bathing suit bottom. He’d never seen you wear this one. Cheeky bottoms, cheeky attitude.

The cooler was full of drinks, music was playing, the sun was high in the sky, and everything smelled like sunscreen and tanning oil.

Harry anchored the boat in a deep area away from other boaters as Lei (finally putting her phone down) and your mom dove into the water to swim. You were lying on the bed at the front and sunning yourself with a beer next to you, sunglasses over your eyes, and a smirk on your face.

“What’s so funny?” Harry stood over you and blocked your sun. The bit of sweat that began to form on your skin and between your breasts was making it difficult for him to avert his eyes. He was glad your mom jumped into the water so he could look without fear of your mom seeing.

You pulled your sunglasses up and frowned at Harry, the grin falling from your face, “You're blocking my sun. Move…” You waved your arm at him in a shooing gesture.

Harry caught your wrist and you gasped, “Don’t talk to me like that.” He spoke lowly, still hovering over you and looking down at your body.

“I’m just sunning myself. What do you want?” Harry knew you were trying to push it with him. Figured you thought you could get away with it a bit since your mom and friend were in tow.

“Asked you a question. You’ve been a brat all day. What’s with you?” He knew what was “with you”. You liked to tease and your attitude always got him worked up. You liked the back and forth. But so did, Harry, even if he’d never admit it.

You let out an annoyed sigh, “I’m not a brat. I’ve been really good. I’m just having fun today. What’s with you?”

Harry really wanted to yank you up by your ponytail and teach you a lesson but when he looked over his shoulder he could still see your mom and Lei in the water not far off.

You tugged your wrist out of his grip and flipped over to your tummy to sun your backside.

Harry watched as you shifted and settled your head into the crook of your arm and close your eyes. The spread of your thighs and your bottom looked irresistible. If he knew he wouldn’t get caught he’d have stuffed his face into your soft cheeks and bitten down and made you squeal right then and there. He loved making you squeal.

A new song came on as Harry reached for a beer for himself and looked out over the water. Trying to ignore you. Trying to think of anything but your skin slowly tanning and exposed to him. Didn’t want to imagine the way you’d taste as he saw sweat forming along your inner thighs. It was hot out and you were sweating just enough that he could see the glisten. Imagined that sweat was forming under your bikini bottoms and how delicious you’d taste. One of his favorite and depraved cravings was the taste of you after you worked out and all your bits were sweaty and salty.

“Harry!” He turned to see your mom waving to get his attention. He stood up to walk toward the edge so he could see what she wanted.

“Throw over both of the inflatable mattresses. We’re going to lay out in the water for a bit.”

Harry picked up both the pink inflatable water mattresses and tossed them into the water for your mom and your friend. The pair were laughing and chatting like old friends. That was the nice thing about your mom. She got along with everyone.

But now Harry realized there’d be a little time for him to do just as he wished with you in the cabin below the boat.

He sat down next to you on the cushion and put his hand over your ankle, “You need to get out of the sun for a bit. You’re gonna get burnt.”

You scoffed and shook your head, “No I’m not.”

Harry huffed a breath through his nose as he looked back to the water and then back down at your and your smooth thighs. The sweat he’d noticed between your thighs was now forming under your butt cheeks and he was going to go mad if he didn’t get a lick in. But he knew he’d want more than just a lick.

Instead of waiting for your attitude to clear up, because he knew it wouldn’t, he swatted your bottom quickly and then leaned over your back to speak into your ear, “We’re going into the cabin below right now.” He pulled your arm and you gasped dramatically before looking toward where your mom and Lei were floating in the water. You pouted at Harry as he pulled you to the door and down into the cabin before you could protest further.

And Harry normally liked to be begged. Liked it when you wanted him and you were asking to be punished or you were all squirmy for him but he couldn’t stop his mouth from watering. He wanted you to sit on his face and smother him with your pussy and your sweat. It was a bit out of character but he had no time to waste. He’d punish you another time for your attitude.

When he dragged you the small built-in couch at the side of the room you figured he’d spank you or push you down to your knees and make you suck him off or something. But instead, Harry laid on his back and pulled you with him, “Sit on my face,” his words were panted and breathy.

You scrunched your brows at him and looked at him in question as he pulled at you to climb up, “What are you doing?”

Harry sat up and kept his hand around your forearm, “I fucking said sit on my face. I won’t ask you again. I’m doing you a favor.” He was about to lose control and start begging you. Which was not what he wanted at all but he needed it. Needed to have your pussy on his mouth and nose. God he didn’t know what had gotten into him. But he’d forego a blowjob to eat you out in this instance. It was like he was desperate for nourishment.

You squinted as your frown turned into a small teasing grin, “Yeah? Daddy needs to eat?”

Harry rolled his eyes and laid flat as he dragged you up and grasped your thighs, pulling you down, over his face. You still had your bikini bottoms on and Harry moaned into the fabric the moment you settled onto his face.

You smelled so concentrated. You hadn’t showered that morning since you knew you’d be on the boat sunning and swimming. And the sweat that had formed made your natural fragrance even more mouthwatering.

Harry smacked your ass and then pulled at the fabric swiftly, bringing the tiny bikini bottom to the side so your bare pussy was pressed over his mouth. He kept his hands at your ass, fingers on his right hand looped into the material pulling the crotch away for his access.

He sucked and licked as he kept you pressed down hard over his mouth. You steadied yourself by holding onto the edge of the arm of the couch.

His cock thickened fast when he finally got a taste. He wanted to make you come and get his face all nasty with your arousal and sweat before your mom and your friend came back into the boat.

You gasped at how ravenous he was. “Hhharry…” you breathed when your clit was nipped at. But when he began to guide you up and down on his face, over his nose, and down to his chin your breathy pants grew into small little squeaks. Just like he loved.

You began to wet his face when your clit was being nudged and poked into. Looking down at him and the naughty, dirty deed that was being committed only 100 feet from your mother and friend out in the water drove you to your peek quickly.

Harry was grunting in muffled noises into your pussy as he smeared you up and down over himself. He could barely breathe but he was in heaven.

And when he felt your thighs begin to quiver he knew you were close. He pushed you over his chin to catch his breath, “Such a nasty slut. Needed to have your pussy cleaned with my tongue,” Harry figured a little bit of degradation might make him feel like he was still in charge. Still calling the shots but when he dragged you back up and you began griding yourself down on his face and you pulled your tits of your little bikini top out and moaned your words, “Mmm… Daddy needed to clean my pussy so bad. So good at it too,” she rolled her hips and Harry pressed his digits harder into your soft skin as his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

It was too late. He’d shown how weak he was for you by doing this in the first place. He needed your pussy on his face and he was getting exactly what he wanted and even though you’d been a brat and he should be denying you an orgasm and making you give him one, there was just something about the way you looked, and how he was so desperate to put his tongue in between your crack and your folds and get your taste and slick coated on his tongue and face that made him push down his need to dominate you like he normally did.

Your hips began to jerk faster and you looked down at Harry with only his eyes peeking up at you and his dark curls a mess under your thighs. It was explicit. Your pussy lips were spread over his nose and your soft, wet entrance was right over his lips. He couldn’t breathe but he seemed to love it as he was only egging you on to move faster and holding you tightly to his face.

The heat of your orgasm began to unfold as you pinched your nipples and rode his face hard. You loved this position. Loved giving him a small taste of his own medicine, so to speak. He was rough with you so many times, always making it hurt a bit. He often choked you and made it so you couldn’t breathe when he had his huge cock lodged down your throat. This felt like a bit of payback, even though he wanted it.

“Ffuck!” You yelped when you felt the snap of your release unfurl, “Daddy… yes!”

Harry closed his eyes and took a small breath through his wet nostrils before you ground yourself back up and over his nose. He could feel his cock throbbing in his green shorts as you gushed on his face and came with a loud groan. He doubted anyone could hear you from the cabin under the boat but it was loud. He couldn’t care, though. He needed to get you off. Needed it.

You whined and rocked on his face until you were satisfied and your orgasm waned. The moment he felt you still he pushed you down off of himself and yanked his big cock from his swim trunks and stroked it right over your face as you were flat on your back, releasing his own hot come all over your face and your neck as he gasped and held himself up with his palm on the inside wall above the couch. He thought he could be okay to go without an orgasm but he was so close to coming without even having touched himself that the moment he wrapped his fist around his shaft his balls tightened up and his dick began to pulse and leak and then he was coming in ropes all over you.

It was a much bigger mess than he intended. You had globs of his sticky come on your face as you smiled and licked your lips when he tucked himself back in.

Normally he’d have done something nasty and depraved at that moment. Would have had you wipe your face up with your palm and lick it all off while he lapped away your messy arousal to clean you up. But there was no time for it.

He pulled you to standing and brought you to the small sink with paper towels and soap.

You smiled proudly as you wiped yourself up and Harry washed his face, hating to remove the scent of you from his nose and cheeks and overgrown scruff. But he couldn’t have your mom kissing him and smelling your pussy all over his face. Which was unfortunate. He’d have loved to have pulled that off but as oblivious as your mom could be, she wasn’t dumb. She’d recognize the scent of pussy. And she’d know it wasn’t hers.

Harry tossed the paper towel and swatted your bottom again, leaning his chest into your back as you started to wipe your sticky crease, “Don’t think this means you’re off the hook. You’re in for it later, little girl.”

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[ellethespaceunicorn]

Daddy Knows Best, Part IV

Title: Daddy Knows Best, Part IV 

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI 

Pairing: StepDad!August Walker x StepDaughter!Reader  

Fandom: Mission: Impossible - Fallout 

Word Count: 3.3K 

Summary: August Walker and your father were once friends. One mission, a single decision, made them enemies. August decides he needs to get his revenge. And what better way, than to become your new Daddy? 

Chapter Summary: Daddy and Babydoll deal with the police, and attempt to move on after the tragedy.

Warnings: pet names (Daddy, Babydoll, babygirl), age gap (the reader is 18, August is in his late-30s), loss of a parent (mother), police interrogation, Dom/sub vibes, unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie, dead dove: do not eat 

A/N: This is different from my usual fics. This would be considered dark!fic in every way possible. If you read the warnings and still choose to read, you are making your own decision. No one is forcing you to read this. This is an entirely self-indulgent therapeutic fic. Enjoy! Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.  

Dividers by: @saradika 

Support/Reblog banner by me 

Cover Art by me 

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You wake in your bedroom, the early afternoon sun shining through the curtains. You roll over on your side and expect to see Daddy but he’s not in the room. Deciding to take a shower and start the day, you rise and undress.  

As you wash yourself, you are suddenly hit with an overwhelming feeling of emptiness and loss. For a few moments, you were free. And then you remembered. 

Mommy’s dead. 

You saw her lifeless body floating in the swimming pool. That vision will probably never leave your brain. The last memory of your mother is of seeing her face down. The crystal-clear water of the pool marred with the sight of her. 

Even though you had a rough relationship with her, you still mourn the loss of your mother. With your dad out of the picture, you only had one parent in your life. And now she has been taken away from you. 

The water in the shower had gone a bit cold so you rinse yourself off and grab your towel to dry yourself. You dress in a black crop top with a sleeveless black plaid A-line dress on top of it. Pulling on some black thigh-high stockings and a pair of black platform Mary Janes, you embody the look of the mournful daughter. 

You look over yourself in the mirror and try smiling at yourself. Instead, a few fat tears roll down your cheeks and you let them fall before giving up on trying to fake happiness. Wiping your face, you settle for going to find Daddy. 

Once you leave your bedroom, you walk downstairs and are surprised to see that Daddy isn’t alone. Both men stand when you reach the bottom of the stairs, but the woman stays seated with a small smile on her face. Daddy holds out an arm for you to come join them. 

“Come on over, don't be shy. This is Detective Marshall. He came to talk about what happened to your mother,” He nods at my words, “And this is Rachel, she’s a psychologist who works with Detective Marshall.” 

I watch as Babydoll walks over and stands next to me, she greets our guests and then sits leaving space between us on the couch. That’s my good girl, don’t give them the chance to question our relationship. I sit down and gesture for Marshall to continue. 

“I think I’d like to continue with you in private, if that’s alright Mr. Walker. Perhaps Rachel may speak with your stepdaughter?” Marshall suggests and I agree to his terms. 

“Why don’t you take Rachel up to your room so you two can have a little chat?” I insist, patting Babydoll’s knee softly. 

Once she nods, she and Rachel make their way upstairs and I hear the door to her bedroom shut. I look back to Marshall and he is scribbling in his little green notebook. His eyes are harder when our gazes meet. 

“Just a few more questions and I will be out of your hair, Mr. Walker.”  

“Please, call me August. Whatever I can do to help.” I lean forward with my elbows on my knees and my hands clasped together. 

“I appreciate that, August. Uh, so you say that your stepdaughter was the first to see your girlfriend’s body. Where were you at this time?” 

“I was bringing in my luggage from my car. I made it to the kitchen and noticed the open patio door. When I walked toward it, I heard her scream and caught her as she passed out. I saw her mother in the pool and realized that she wasn’t moving. After putting my stepdaughter in her bedroom, I called the police.” I kept my face neutral, but my eyes welled up a bit and I blinked away tears. 

“So, you and your stepdaughter weren’t home when your girlfriend was killed. You two had been on a trip?” 

“Yes. I had been on a trip for work, but my stepdaughter didn’t want to be here alone with her mother, so I brought her with me. Their relationship has been a bit strained since the divorce about a year ago. She misses her father and I, no matter how hard I try, am barely a substitute for him.” That’s it, play the role of a loving stepfather. 

"You mentioned you work for the CIA, Special Activities. Is it safe for you to take your stepdaughter along on business trips in your line of work?” 

“She was never in any danger. No one knew our location or that she was with me. The safe house we stayed in was discreet and out of the way. The only time she was left alone was this morning, and it was just for a couple of hours. I’m sure you understand I can’t divulge the details of my assignment. But you are more than welcome to check in with my superior, Erika Sloane.” I fish her card out of my wallet and hand it to Marshall. 

“Thank you, August. As soon as Rachel is ready, we’ll be out of your way.” 

No sooner do those words leave his mouth, than Rachel is coming down the stairs with Babydoll in tow. I notice the smiles on their faces and wonder what they got up to while they spoke. As they come back into the living room, Rachel stands next to Marshall and Babydoll stands near me. 

“I think that’s everything. We’ll be in touch, August. Thank you for your time.” Marshall reaches out to shake my hand and he smiles at Babydoll. 

For a split second, my face betrays me as I slightly scowl at him smiling at her. But in the same breath, I steady myself and look at Rachel before shaking her hand. 

“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call.” Rachel tilts her head at Babydoll and touches her shoulder. 

I walk the detective and his partner out and once the door is closed, I turn and make my way back to the couch. My perfect little one sits with her leg under her, her big doe eyes settling on me. 

“So, sweet girl, what did you and Rachel talk about?” 

You took Rachel into your room and closed the door behind her. She looked around and smiled at the various photos and knickknacks you had scattered about the room. She sat on the edge of your bed and patted the space next to her. You sat down and she began to ask questions right away. 

“So, you and your stepdad seem close. What was your relationship like with your mother?” 

“My mom and I were never all that close. I was a lot closer with my Nanny, while she was here. Um, I guess I’m more of a Daddy’s girl. Mom was never satisfied with me, I don’t think. She always wanted me to be better. At sports, at school, at everything. She wasn’t my biggest fan. And then after the divorce, I felt even more distant from her. Dad was gone and I was left with her. Then August started dating Mom and it was weird in the beginning, but he ended up being a nice guy. And he listened to me, and he would stand up for me when Mom was on my case. I didn’t hate my mom. I just wished she liked me.” You looked away from Rachel to wipe a single tear that threatened to fall from your eye. 

“Seems like August was your knight in shining armor.”  

“Um, yeah. He cares about me. He cared about my mom too. He doesn’t treat me like a kid like Mom did. I don’t mean to make my mom seem all that bad. She was doing the best she could, I know that. She didn’t deserve what happened to her. I hope whoever did this to her rots in a jail cell forever. Sorry, I’m just angry and upset. My emotions have been a bit off the rails.” 

“It’s perfectly normal to feel sad or livid or even bitter about death. With your relationship with your mother, I am not surprised your emotions are unsure of what to do. Sometimes, we might even feel like a weight is lifted off our shoulders when a certain person in our life is gone. Nothing of what you’re feeling is wrong.” Rachel tilted her head at you and smiled.  

“Thanks.” You returned the smile and went back to fiddling with the hem of your dress. 

"Do you feel safe here with August? I only ask as a precaution. Having you in a place where you feel safe is most important.” She put a hand over yours and you froze. What did she mean by that? 

“I feel more than safe with him. He’s never given me a reason not to trust him.” You suddenly felt defensive over August and you tried to keep yourself calm. 

“Good. I’m glad you have him to help you through this trying time. But if you ever need to talk, or even if you just need someone to listen, you can call me.” She pulled a business card out of her pocket and handed it to you. 

“I don’t know if I’ll have anything to talk about but thank you.” 

“Maybe something that you can’t talk to August about. Something that maybe only another woman would understand?”  

“Oh. Ok. Um, I will let you know if anything comes up.” You stood and put the card on your desk and Rachel stood as well. 

“Good. Any time, day or night. I’ll be available at that number. Use it whenever you need me. I think that’s all I need. Why don’t we go and rejoin the others?” Rachel went to your bedroom door and let you walk out first. 

You’re not quite sure about how to feel about your interaction, but at least you felt like you defended August well and even made a new friend. She seemed nice enough anyway. 

After she tells me everything that she and Rachel talk about, I feel a bit more at ease. Less like the detective thinks I murdered her mother, but more like his partner thinks something is going on between me and Babydoll. 

Which there is, but she doesn’t need to know that. 

Even if she did know, it isn’t illegal. She’s 18, a consenting adult, and she’s well taken care of. Not that I need to explain myself to anyone. 

“Babydoll, you know you can talk to me about anything, right? Anything at all. Daddy is here to listen and to keep you safe.”  

“I know, Daddy. There is something...but, I don’t know.” She ducks her head and looks to the floor. 

I put a finger under her chin, lifting it so she can look at me. “Anything, Babydoll. You ask and I’ll make sure it gets done right away.” 

“Daddy, I...don’t want to live here anymore. All I can see around me is bad memories with Mom. Or old memories with...my father. And neither of them is in my life anymore. Does it make me a bad person that all I wanna do is move on? I feel weird even being in the living room, so close to where Mom died.” She plays with her fingers and looks down again. 

“Let me make a few calls, Babydoll. I’ll see if we can be out of the house by week’s end, alright?”  

“Thank you, Daddy. This means a lot.” She stands and wraps her arms around my neck in a tight embrace. I hug her back and lift her off the ground a bit and she giggles. The tuneful sound tickles my ears, and I am happy to be the cause of it. 

I kiss her cheek and send her up to her room to deflate. In the next few hours, I have a house lined up for us on the nicer side of town. Three bedrooms, three baths, finished basement, big backyard with an in-ground pool. A perfect place to start a new life. 

By the end of the week, we are finishing up moving all our stuff over to the new house. Other than a small crying fit that Babydoll has while she and I go through her parents’ belongings and decide what to keep and what to donate, the move was mostly hassle-free. 

One morning after a run to clear my head, I was surprised to have a visit from Detective Marshall, and this time he only wanted to talk to me. I let him in and ask Babydoll to give us some privacy. We talk for a short while about moving from the old house and how Babydoll is doing. I ask him to cut to the chase and he nods and tells me Babydoll’s father’s body has been found.  

He was discovered in a hotel room with substances in his system, along with a suicide note that included his confession to killing his ex-wife. At that bombshell, I’m visibly unnerved. Marshall reaches out a hand to my shoulder and apologizes for having to deliver this information.  

He makes a sort-of backhanded comment that my former partner must not have liked that I took his place in his family. I responded by saying it wasn’t appropriate to make assumptions about dead men. Besides, as his ex-wife told me many times, they were rocky well before I stepped in. Marshall also stated that since Babydoll’s father had confessed to the murder this case was now officially closed, and we could go ahead with a burial ceremony. 

I thanked him for relaying the news and escorted him to the front door. Before he left, he made sure I knew he would be keeping an eye on us. Seems the detective doesn’t trust me. I couldn’t care less, honestly. Let him try and pin this all on me. 

I mean, he could pin it all on me if he wanted to do so. It's not like he would be wrong in doing so.  

But I covered all my tracks and sealed them airtight. And with my record, they’d be ridiculous to come after me now that they have a confession and another dead body on their hands. 

I wait until the detective drives off in his large black Ford F-Series, leave my sneakers at the door, and then make my way up to find Babydoll. I find her sprawled across the bed in the Master bedroom, sketching something in her notebook. Technically, this is my bedroom and hers is down the hall, but she sleeps with me most nights. 

“What are you up to, Babydoll?” I ask, coming around the bed to sit next to her and peer into her notebook. 

She shuts it before I can get a good look inside, “It’s a surprise, Daddy. You can’t see it yet.” 

“Oh, I'm not allowed to see it yet, huh? Well, I guess Babydoll isn’t allowed to cum tonight then. How about that?”  

Fuck, I loved to tease her. She always made the cutest little pouty faces. 

“Daddy! No! Please may I cum tonight? I’ll do anything. Just, I was making you something special and I don’t wanna show you ‘til it’s finished. I don’t wanna ruin the surprise. Please?” There goes that little pouty lip of hers, it could make me agree to anything. 

“Ok, fine, Babydoll. But you’re gonna cum when Daddy says to.” 

“I can be a good girl for you, Daddy. I promise.” 

“There’s my good girl,” I lay back against the pillows after I shuck my muscle tank, joggers, and socks, “Show me that sweet little pussy while Daddy gets his dick ready for you.” I take out my length and start to stroke it while she pulls her panties down, laying on her back so she can show me how she plays with herself. 

Within minutes, her cunt is making those glorious squelching sounds I love so much while she fingers herself for me. I am beyond hard at this point and I am salivating just to get inside her.  

“Come up here and lay back Babydoll. Let Daddy have his turn now.”

She removes her fingers from her wet snatch and slides next to me. I take off my boxers and my cock springs up and bounces against my abdomen. Leaning over her, I position my dick at her entrance and slowly slide in thanks to the wetness she has accumulated. 

“Fuck, Babydoll, you are so tight. You feel so perfect around me.” I don’t stop until my balls are against her ass and our hips are flush together. I’ve molded this pussy to fit my shaft perfectly. Pulling out, I slam back in and am rewarded with her angelic little whimpers. 

I don’t necessarily need to last long; I just need to make sure I get her to her peak before I reach mine. I find a steady rhythm thrusting in and out of her tight heat that has her keening in my ear. Her arms are around my neck and her legs are wrapped around my waist. 

I can feel her core tightening around me, and I know she is close. Reaching a hand between us, I use my thumb to flick against her clit to push her over the edge. Her moans tell me everything I need to know. 

“Cum for me, Babydoll. Soak my fucking dick, sweet baby.” Not even a second later, I feel the tell-tale signs of her orgasm as her folds flutter around me and the dam breaks loose. She screams out and I can’t help myself. 

I fuck into her until I feel my balls draw up and then I slam into her heat one last time. I swear I was going to pull out and I almost did, but the warmth and the tight fit and my exhaustion from the run got the better of me. I came deep inside her as my cockhead sat against her cervix. I didn’t give a fuck about anything except the notion of her cunt holding me so perfectly as I blew my load. 

The only sounds in the room were of us catching our breath.  

Once I could move again, I lean up on my knees and pull back from where I collapsed on top of her. Holding her legs open, I let my length slip out. Soon, my massive load starts to rush out and I push all of it back inside her as she lazily smiles up at me. I smile at her then pull her into the bathroom with me to shower. 

She’s barely able to stand in the shower and I mostly hold her steady. We both get clean enough and I help her dry off then dry myself off and we make it back to the bedroom and lay back down in bed. I tell myself it is best to talk to her now about all this instead of waiting and possibly upsetting her. 

“Alright, Babydoll. Daddy just creampied you, I didn’t pull out this time. I came inside you. Now, in the morning, Daddy is gonna run and get you a plan B pill so that you don’t get pregnant. But I think it might be time that we get you on birth control so that Daddy doesn't have to worry about this kind of thing in the future.” I speak slowly and clearly so she knows that I have her best interest at heart. 

“Ok, Daddy. Can we take a nap now? I’m exhausted.” She is already rolling over on her side and throwing an arm across my chest. 

“Yeah, Babydoll, let’s take a nap.” I wrap my arm around her shoulder and kiss the top of her head. 

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t thinking of her tummy round and swollen with my kid and her tits heavy with milk. But I know that’s just emotion talking. As much as I want to get her pregnant, right now it is far too soon after everything with her parents. 

Right? 

Part V (coming soon) 

A/N: I am so sorry this took so long to get out, loves. Anywho, hope you enjoyed this. I still have more in me, I think. 

**Tag List** 

@winterschildren8 @raccoon-eyed-rebel @viking-raider @devotedlythoughtfulanchor @livisss @randomweirdoss @brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67 @astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry @rebelangel1102 @mrs-solo-walker [Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁] 

[sunniques]

alright this is going to be long, but i agree with you about most of them

i feel SEONGHWA it’s like a jealous stepdad, he likes to tease you by acting romantic with your mom in front of you after you acted up with some dude you saw at one of the fancy dinners he and your mom constantly made where important people get invited or bring a boy to fool around, he would be fucking you good in your room in the middle of the night after all you did, probably after a spanking session, i feel he gets turned on seeing you beg, he can tease you bc he loves seeing you being possessive towards him but how dare you to do the same to him

HONGJOONG omfg YESSSS, he enjoys your current visits to his studio knowing how tired he is for working so hard so you go there to spoil him and relax him like the good stepdaughter you are, you always end up cockwarming him or sucking his cock under his desk, even when he told you no in fear of getting caught up but he can’t resist at seeing your pretty “innocent” eyes while you suck him off, at the end you just want daddy to feel good and to relax a bit :( (i bet he whines too if we’re honest…)

i always felt YUNHO gives me dilf vibes as well, like a stepdad too, but i feel that golden retriever-ish stepbro who acts like an innocent protective big bro, he will probably stay out of your room to masturbate himself while he hears you doing it as well, probably steals your panties too, i feel he also is the type to sneak his hands under the table to touch you while you all are having dinner with your parents or watching a movie having a family time

YEOSANG in other hand, i feel he is a more “correct” stepbro, like he rejects you multiple times bc he doesn’t feel it’s correct, until one night you sneak into his room and ride his cock, he begs you to stop or he is going to cum inside you and there is nothing you want more in life for him to do! after feeling your pussy wrapped around his cock he can’t get enough of you, lying to your parents constantly that you go to “bonding trips” just to get him to fuck you properly without the fear of getting caught

i first i read your reply as SAN being a stepdad and i was like YEAAAHH, i find stepbro fine too, but san being like a lovely stepdad who takes care of his lovely stepdaughter and is a lovely husband as well when in reality he is a pervert who devours his stepdaughter’s pussy like a starved man, he doesn’t care if you squirt on his face, he loves that, he makes you sit on his face to eat you out properly, even when you tell him it’s too much to the point it’s painfully delicious to cum but he is too pussydrunk to let you go and won’t stop until you cream his tongue multiple times before creaming your pussy until you are full (breeding kink !!!) (also the aftercare with this man would be >>>>)

MINGI jesus christ, you’re his personal cocksleve and you love it, he will throatfucking you after a long day of work, he will also have a size kink i mean HE IS HUGE, i feel that he will make you lay on the bed with your neck on the border of bed (head upside down) so he can fuck your throat better, even telling you to put your hand on your throat so you can feel his cock slipping inside of you, he would love to cum in your face and tits as well (i feel he also would corrupt you)

i will always believed WOOYOUNG is a brat, that little shit will get his way on you, it all happened after a party that both of you went and came back to the house empty (parents on a trip) a bit tipsy and next thing you both knew is that you both were naked in his bed, even when you think fucking your stepbrother was just for fun you were wrong, he will record you sucking his cock or fucking you from the back and use it against you, you want to date a guy? too bad, wooyoung won’t let you do it or that video being a whore would be everywhere, specially on your parents phone, you’re annoyed but you also don’t get too mad about it bc your stepbro knows how to make you cum better than your past lovers

with JONGHO i feel he will try to hold himself and your tactics but one day he won’t be able and will masturbate in silence with a bit of guilt BUUUUTTT what if he has an OLDER (like 2-3 years max) stepsister, i feel jongho can feel turned on with the idea of dominating an older woman, specially you since you always nag him and act like he is too young, he using one time alone with you to make his move and at first you thought your little stepbrother was just playing around, in one minute to another you are on top of him bouncing on his cock while he devours your nipples, he loves seeing such a “bossy girl” being too cockdrunk over her younger stepbro

girl sorry this is loooooong as hell, i wrote all of this at work while bored, hope you have a great day and week, take care 🤍

- 🎧

ok but u ate

[killuintense]

Hi mootsss!

I just finished reading Nic's post about the new issues of prompts in fics, things about stepcest, incest directly, noncon or even pedophilia.

I wanted to do something further removed from their post because, first, I want to be able to explain myself well and be able to give the attention that talking about these topics deserves. And secondly, because I would like to be able to speak, as I am the one who has made a series directly from Leon Stepdad, which would also leave the way open for someone who writes about it to explain why the attraction to this type of content.

I'm only going to talk about stepcest because I don't read noncon or anything related to rape, or pedophilia because although I read and write about everything, issues related to minors under 18 years of age are NOT allowed on this profile.

To begin with, I am not a strictly moral person, and on top of that I have a certain morbidity and curiosity about many topics. I've always been into daddy kink since I was a teenager, but I never really liked it. Very crazy because I love stepcest, and this is precisely because I know it's not real. The dynamics that are mixed when writing nsfw and the question of secrecy, of 'they won't find out' and the fact that it is all hidden and taboo makes it more adrenaline-inducing. Then I would talk about the intensity of love and protection that, this does have to do with traumas and mechanisms of draining everything murky that we have experienced in a healthier way (so to speak). I have a bad relationship with my father, and with all the men in my life, so wanting a real man to love me and take care of me is mixed, but at the same time it is mixed with my bad concept of fatherly love.

Precisely for this reason in my stepcest series I try to mention not only the sexual but also what goes beyond it. Leon is my current hyperfixation so I simply channel everything I feel into him, plus I really like his adult version and he gives me comfort in my "trauma", the way he cares for the women around him, or the way you think of him and see him as a single father jsdjksdl. I mean, it's not for nothing that there are so many fics about Leon and baby fever or breeding, because he gives off exactly all those vibes. Now just take a traumatized girl who wants her father to love her and boom, you have my stories or many more about stepdad.

All this leads to my bad perception about what love is, mixed with what I already told you before. I love stepcest! But I wouldn't mess with my stepfather or stepbrother, and if Leon were real he probably wouldn't be with his stepdaughter either, so we understand that it's just fiction but it's okay to talk about it. It would be more worrying if he came here to say "actually I think it's okay to have relationships with family members, etc." so it's perfect to clarify the issues and stop being taboo, we all have different ways of talking about what we feel and Tumblr doesn't stop to be a place where we can talk about what we feel and make it our safe place.

Finally I want to say that even in my free will I don't like reading fics where they characterize Leon badly, you know, all that shit about making him bad and cold???? frightening. So my goal is also to be able to write it well, make it questionable but still have the essence of Leon, obviously.

ily'all, see you later!!

[erosmutt]

BNUUY IS A KPOP STAN TOO? I THINK WE ARE SOULMATES AGHH

Also MY FAV RYAN MCLANE VIDEONDHDHHD prolly the stepdad one where the stepdaughter caught him with her panties 😋 it was kinda giving James Kelly to me for some reason

- 🐰

WAIT also im glad your cats feeling better! Hope inux continues to heal welllll

YAHHH !!!! I think my favorite Ryan vid is the one where he's the tennis instructor and fucks his client in her bathroom <3 I love Ryan sm but he gives me Hayden vibes too ughhh 🥹🥹 thank you!! he's getting better, we just have to pay for his vet visit!

[somevirtualnolife]

Sidenote: My Rook and Solas have a real "Antagonistic Stepdad/ Stepdaughter" vibe which I was not planning going in, but def sticking with for the next foreseeable future.

[vivianbernadetteaurora]

Babes she literally so intising to me I swear it’s having your mars and Venus in same sign she literally created a whole genre of clothing calledkinderwhore , many other girls are doing it as well like cat, be yell and Jennifer Finch and bikini and all of babes in toyland, so they put out a style that nobody else had at the time which then became to be grunge and kind. because I wasn’t alive around the whole Nirvana thing in the early 90s well I was alive, but I would’ve been a really young child like a dog or something. I’m not too sure how much hate Courtney I’ve got, but I believe that she was more popular over here in the UK. She used to like have little tea cups and do little British things, and now she actually lives over here because I think she’s had enough is like the whole American thing. I mean she needs to go ahead to get old old. I’m talking like 1800 dresses and turn them into little baby doll dresses like is a bit controversial to say the least but this is Courtney love for you.

When I was a lot slimmer, she was my fashion icon. She still is now, and I love the blonde hair. I love the whole Grunwick with the little shoes, the tea dresses the skate dresses, and she’s just been known for all her different phases underground, grand artist, her and Eric has solid Capricorn to her cancer would do music together, and they had many variations of hole so, the first saturation of hole was Courtney and Eric, Jill, Emery and Caroline. This went on from about 1989 to 1992, so when Courtney met her in 92, neither of them were doing much, they literally just got high on her and all the time so they they didn’t bring out the best teacher in each other in that sense.

These two water sons, her being a cancer, son and him being a Pisces son, but also with his cancer moon and heart cancer moon. These two would have the most they used to argue about who had the most fucked up child, and who had it worse, I’ve always wanted to know what star sign mother was. She gives me Virgo vibes but also I’m not sure. I know that Courtney Courtney‘s mum cause I looked into it anyway Courtney‘s childhood was very like Bohemian. She didn’t her mum was adopted and after five people who are adopted that they have the money to do so and raise a child and all that other stuff to start off with she had, her mum was when who was adopted the family. The family made pieces of glass for glasses in the war. So yeah they had a lot of like choose trust fun kid or whatever you wanna call it.

So Courtney was pushed round from home to home. Her mother took her sisters to New Zealand and Courtney was sort of left behind. I think they initially took her but it became too much I mean imagine just like saying no I’m gonna give up on my child is I’m gonna give you to your stepdad relationship, but whatever Courtney, when became a personal vendetta, let’s say against the people that she was living with so the new person would be her stepdad new partner, so he had to make the choice of who do I get my partner or my stepdaughter and then, she was getting into loads of trouble with like the law and stupid things like shoplifting and then boot will be putting in juvenile hall with like she makes that lectures really poured that, but when you see like the pictures of places like they were allowed to do what they wanted mainly, but of course she was an outcast they were like I bet you were really sociable. One interviewer said she said no, I came across is very autistic and I learn my social skills from drug addicts, drag queen, and criminals.

So Kurts childhood was a bit different. He had it really good with his mum and dad up to the age of nine. I think when they got divorced and he was a very hyperactive but really loving child. His mother would say, he almost felt so ashamed of his parents being divorced, he wrote on the wall,”mum hates dad. Dad hates mum” so he would go from home to home with uncles aunts on both sides of the family. He live with a religious family for about six months and they said that he was really good and more behaved, there are lots of fairies that cat lived under a bridge for awhile and also which bridge was it nobody knows if it’s true, but I don’t believe it to be true. I mean he shouldn’t of had to be homeless as a teenager, but it just shows you the whole Gen X generation and what they had to go through. This pushed people like and Courtney to get better, and now I’m gonna add into the new generation of us, Millennials and Genzie. There wasn’t anything left to create. The only thing to create was history, and how we were inspired by these people who were the generation before us who went through so much and got so little and asked for so little on TikTok this morning I saw somebody say why we leave Gen X out and then they say Gen X are Millennials that just don’t talk about what they went through like Millennials do they’ll just give you a face and I thought that is so true. With regards to the sinner history of these two charts, his Scorpio Mars being in her second house would mean that his of love and sexuality, he was attracted to her materialism, even though even though Pisces men like to not admit that it is very true, so what they say is often opposite to what they feel, specially with a cancer moon as well so , so cost being on his ninth house would be her Gemini Mars and Gemini Venus, which is a Sagittarius house. These two had a lot to talk about. They were attracted to each other knowledge, especially Kurt towards court she was attracted to his power, his influence, his ways, his sexuality, what she didn’t like is, he got all the praise that she would’ve wanted and he didn’t give a damn about because he had Virgo rising and was born under a full moon, because the signs are in opposite positions, so I mean rising and sun Venus, in Pisces, Venus is mercury and Pisces and his son and Pisces. All in the seventh house of relationships is why Kurt was such a big influence on the world and why people really felt like they knew him and felt connected to him . thank you, 

[bucky-barnes-diaries]

Stepdaddy’s Birthday Girl

Pairing; Possessive!Stepdad!Bucky x Stepdaughter!Reader

Summary; You’re his girl, his only. No one gets to touch what belongs to him.

Word Count; 1911

Warnings; NSFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, dub-con, explicit content/language, major age-gap (reader is early/mid 20’s, Bucky is early/mid 40’s), Possessive!Bucky, stepdad x stepdaughter intercourse, unprotected vaginal sex, cheating, pet names, daddy/stepdaddy kink, innocent kink, size kink, praise kink, degradation kink, hint of predator/prey kink, breeding kink, mention of alcohol and being drunk, teasing, spanking, hair pulling, choking, rough fucking, being used, creampie, mention of bodily fluids.

Authors Note; It’s my birthday today! (April 1st) So I wrote a birthday-ish related fic :P Hope you all enjoy!

Disclaimer; English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

Stepdad!Bucky Masterlist

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The party at your house was in full swing. The bass of the music pumping through the speakers vibrated your home's foundation. Alcohol and electric vibes flowed all around as the guests moved to the beat of the sound.

It was unlike you to host a party like this. You had never been a huge party girl, but since it was your birthday, you thought fuck it, and invited everybody, close friends and people you hardly knew. The word of the party must have spread far and wide because the house was almost packed to capacity.

Your mom was away on a girls’ trip. If she ever found out you held a party like this, she would have your head on a plate. Your stepdad Bucky was staying out with some buddies until the morning, which would hopefully leave you enough time to get rid of the evidence of the event.

The outfit you wore for the evening was not something you usually felt comfortable in. It was more on the slutty side, revealing your flesh and curves. The leather skirt clung to your hips and thighs while the tight top accentuated the shape of your breasts.

It was all done intentionally to grasp the attention of a boy you’ve had a crush on for a while now and hopefully get laid for the evening.

The music playing through the speakers feels like a drug that brings you higher and higher until your mind buzzes with joy. You move your hips to the beat like they were made to sway. The alcohol you had consumed boosted your confidence as you grind your ass into your crush behind you. His hands are on your hips, keeping you close to him as his face is buried in your neck, kissing and licking the sensitive skin as you and him move as one.

There’s a pull on your hand as he brings you over to an empty spot on the sofa. He plops down with you on top of his lap. His lips quickly find yours in a heated and messy kiss as his hand inches higher up your thigh. Their destination is your clothed core that is already wet with your arousal.

As you get lost in the taste and feel of one another, suddenly, you feel the presence of a dark figure towering over you both.

“Hey, what the hell, man?!”

The boy yells up to the stranger—pissed off at him for invading your space like that. You look up, about to give a nasty glare to the one that interrupted your chances of getting laid tonight.

Once you lock eyes with the person, your eyes widen in horror, and your heart beats like it’s fight or flight mode. It’s your stepdad Bucky. He wasn’t supposed to be home yet, not until the next day.

In the darkness, you can see his high cheekbones and the absolute rage that is evident on his face. His hands are clenched in tight fists like they’re ready to punch.

“B-Bucky, wh-what are you doing here? I-I thought you w-wouldn’t be h-home until t-tomorrow morning.”

Your voice was hoarse, and your body was practically shaking on top of the boy you were sitting on.

“Get up and come with me now!”

The roughness and power in his voice left you taken back, but you obeyed his words. Your body was shaking profusely as you got up from the boy that you had now completely forgotten about.

Bucky grabbed your forearm tight, the harsh grip making you wince out as he pulled you with him. Through the crowded living room and up the stairs.

“W-where a-are you t-taking me, B-Bucky.”

He uttered no words as he dragged you into his and your mom’s bedroom, finally letting go of you when you were standing in the dimly lit master bathroom, facing each other. With your other hand, you tried to soothe the pain where Bucky’s harsh grasp held your arm. You winced out in pain as you touched the tender flesh.

“Bucky, what the-“

“What the fuck was that downstairs?” He cuts you off. The sound of him was as dark and powerful as it had been moments ago.

Again his words left you taken back some. You practically shivered where you stood as you felt so fragile and exposed compared to his tall and broad frame inching closer to you, towering over your smaller one.

“I-I w-was just-“

He didn’t let you explain yourself. Instead, he turned you around and forced you to bend over the bathroom counter. A scream of surprise and terror came from you as he bent you down—your elbows resting on the cold surface as your head faced your hands.

“W-What the h-hell, B-Bucky?”

“Quiet girl.”

His hand snakes into your hair and yanks your head up, making you look at yourself in the mirror in front. The cruel action has you groan out as he strained your neck.

From the darkness behind you, his face comes into view in the mirror, resting inches from your ear; you can feel his hot breath fanning across your face. You inhale his musky scent; the smell has your mind cloud up with desire for him.

He growls in your ear, deep and dominant, like a predator that’s hungry for its prey. The vicious sound goes straight to your core, making your clit flutter.

His tongue pokes out to lick the shell of your ear before his deep and husky voice whispers in your canal.

“Do you like that boy downstairs?”

“I-I do, y-yes.”

“Don’t worry, angel, daddy, will make you forget all about him.”

With his other hand, he finds your covered pussy and puts pressure on it with his colossal fingers. The sensation has you gasp out, and your eyes close as he rubs you over the damp material.

“Look at me, baby.”

Your eyes open, and you find his ones in the mirror. In the slight darkness, you can still see his whole face—the face of an absolute animal that’s ready to feast on its prey.

A sadistic smile is plastered on him, and his eyes? Oh, his eyes are pitch black with need and desire.

“You’re so wet, baby girl. Did that boy downstairs make you all wet and messy?”

“H-he di-did.”

“I’m not sure if I should go down and beat his ass or thank him for getting your pussy, my pussy, so wet and ready. But what I do know,” he yanks your head more until your pulse point is entirely exposed, “is that I’m the one that gets to fuck this pretty little pussy to my every desire. Not that useless piece of shit downstairs.”

“Y-yes, d-daddy.”

He lets go of your hair and hikes your leather skirt up until it’s bunched around your waist. He’s quick to pull your panties to the side so that his dark gaze has a complete view of your exposed holes.

“Look at you, angel,” he cups your pussy entirely to have a feel of you, “you’re practically dripping all over the place. What a dirty girl you are.”

Suddenly all his touches on you come to a stop. It leaves you some time to regain your strength and sanity to keep your shaky form from collapsing.

Behind you, you hear him undo his belt and unzip his pants. They drop to the floor with a light thud. You know what’s coming next, and your pussy is screaming in excitement.

His cock head teases your folds, coating himself in your slick wetness before he lines his tip with your ready and awaiting entrance.

“I’ll make this the best birthday you ever had, sweetheart.”

With no warning, he plunges his length deep within your walls; the force of him has you jolt forward and sob out a cry.

A throaty groan escapes him as he feels your warm and tight pussy accommodating his whole cock. He stills for a few seconds to appreciate how you feel around him.

“Shit, baby, you feel incredible.”

He pulls out till only his tip is in you before he forces himself in again, doing so a few times to build up his strength.

His hips snap against your backside in a rough rhythm; the sound of skin on skin echoes against the tiles.

“Oh, daddy.”

A harsh smack lands on your ass as he fucks you into oblivion. The force has a few tears spill from your eyes as the combination of his brutal slaps and rough trusts are too much for your fragile body to handle. It feels so good that it hurts, but still, you never want him to stop using you like he is now. Your eyes closed in bliss as he had his way with you.

“Do you love the way your stepdaddy is fucking your pretty little hole, angel?”

“Y-yes, daddy, don’t ever stop.”

It’s wrong on so many levels for you to enjoy your stepdad fucking you like this. But you can’t deny that you love every single second of it.

His hand comes around your throat and cups your pulse point, extending your head up so that your doe eyes gaze into his predatory ones in the mirror. The same sadistic grin is plastered on his face as he uses and abuses your hole to his every need.

“You’re mine, you’re fucking mine,” his hips slap rapidly into your backside as he utters the possessive words, “no one gets to touch what’s mine. You got that?”

“Yes, daddy.”

The way his length penetrates your walls repeatedly and his tip brushing your sweet spot with each stroke has your whole body shudder in ecstasy. His fingers toying with your aching clit added to the sensation.

It won’t be long now until you explode all around him. You can feel the tightness in your lower stomach about to snap any moment now.

“D-daddy, I-I’m go-gonna-“

You struggled to get the words out with how he clutched your throat, bracing himself for his own release.

“Fuck, angel, daddy’s gonna cum. Daddy’s gonna fill your little pussy up. Are you ready for your present, baby girl?”

“G-give i-it to m-me.”

A particularly hard thrust later and his hot seed spurt out of his tip, filling your greedy hole up to completion. It felt so delicious having his cum coating your pulsating walls.

His sound of pleasure, rough grunts and moans of your name, fell from him freely, not ashamed to be vocal.

His release ignited your own as you came hard around him. Your arms struggled to keep yourself upright on the bathroom counter as your body shook violently—eyes shut tight and tears streaming down your cheek at the intensity. No sound managed to escape you as he still kept a firm hold on your pulse.

Once he knew you were full and satisfied, he stilled inside you and let go of your throat. You gasped for fresh air and coughed a few times to get rid of the discomfort. Your head fell down as you tried to process what had just unfolded.

Bucky leaned down to be level with you—leaving soothing kisses along your neck where his harsh grip had been.

You hummed a quiet sound at him being so kind and gentle with you after having taken you like an animal only a few moments ago.

“Happy birthday, baby girl. I hope you loved your present.”

“I-I did. Tha-thank you, d-daddy.”

“Anytime, angel.”

Thank you for reading🖤 Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!

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[sleepyrouge]

strange what desire will make foolish people do

word count: 12.8 k

pairing: aizawa shouta x reader

description: your dad dies suddenly and you've never gotten along with your mother. when she announces that she's marrying shouta aizawa, you come up with a plan to ruin their marriage and fall for him in the process.

content warnings: stepdad!aizawa, adult stepdaughter!reader, cheating/infidelity, age gap, jealousy, emotional manipulation, parental loss, grief, descriptions of anxiety attack, mentions of vomit/bile (non-sexual), unprotected sex, spit, oral sex (f!receiving), use of petnames (baby girl), alcohol consumption, recreational drug use, "pranks" that a health department definitely wouldn't approve of, nobody in this is a morally good person. dark content. 18+ mdni (and no blank blogs) or you will get blocked.

authors note: i ended up going balls to the wall and this was 30 pages in google docs :) anyways this is like a series of stepdad!aizawa and angst and it's not the best but it's my favorite thing that i've posted so far

title is from wicked game by chris isaak

songs important for the plot/vibes: wicked game by chris isaak, i don't wanna be an asshole anymore by the menzingers, derailed by the menzingers, karma police by radiohead, you've got to hide your love away by eddie vedder (this is a beatles anti account no i will not be engaging in discourse about it at this time)

You had never experienced a fall from grace. You had always been the pretty little girl-smart, sweet, happy-go-lucky, and the apple of her daddy’s eye. You were convinced you were an angel right here on earth. To your dear dad, there was nothing wrong that you could ever do. Any time you broke one of his loosely defined rules like “no staying out past nine” or “no bickering with your mother while I'm gone on this work trip,” all it took was batting your eyelashes and a noncommittal apology before you were back in his good graces. You were your daddy’s girl, through and through. It didn’t matter to either of you that you were spoiled rotten.

It was probably why your own mother never liked you much.

It started like any other growing pains-your mother and you would squabble over little things, like not wanting to hold her hand when she took you grocery shopping or preferring your dad giving you piggyback rides over her. Then, as you grew up, it morphed into crying in fitting rooms while your mom found new things about you to criticize which eventually led you to shutting her out as much as you could both physically and emotionally.

It was, and you entertained this thought quite frequently, why your darling father died. For three days straight, he complained of chest pains that wouldn’t let up and all your mother would offer to him was over-the-counter painkillers and only cursory words of comfort. She was too busy, or spiteful, to encourage him to go to the hospital. On the fourth morning of that fateful week, you woke up to your mother screaming and your dad not waking up no matter how you shook him. You barely remembered that day-it passed in a blur of paramedics and flowers and tears.

You could remember feeling anger. Anger that would probably last the rest of your life. Anger that would be known across the centuries. There was nothing else quite like it.

You losing your father so suddenly was the beginning of you having to learn how to fall from grace and clip your wings back. You had to learn how to be alone. You had done your research on the grieving process and no matter how long it had been, there came a point where you were bitter and angry and just stagnated there. In a moment of pure hopelessness, you rejected your offer of admission from the university your father had dreamed of you attending since you were a baby. Your mother blanched when you told her, no doubt angered by the fact that you’d be hanging around the house like a black cloud full time now instead of halfway across the country and out of her hair. So she gave you an ultimatum. Either attend classes at the local college or get a job. If you were going to stay at home, the least you could do was be productive. It was how she reasoned with you. You had half expected her to kick you out when she called you into the kitchen to talk but then you remembered-she had an image to uphold. How would it look to the other executives of her firm if she kicked her only daughter out onto the streets so soon after her father died?

Begrudgingly, you enrolled in classes at the local college. You only took just enough credit hours to be considered a full-time student and even then, you never put much effort into your work. It was a rarity if you ever turned any assignments in on time and even rarer still was your actually showing up to your classes. It was a joke to you when you would proudly display your essays with failing grades on the refrigerator. What was the point in trying anymore? Your hero-your real hero was dead and buried. There was no one around to appreciate your efforts anymore.

Halfway into your first semester of your laughable college career, your mother met Mr. Aizawa. Part-time teacher and hero. You didn’t really know how they had met and you didn’t care to know. You had scrunched up your nose in disgust when your mom waltzed into the living room on a Friday afternoon and announced that he would be coming over for dinner that same night. The thought of some man intruding in your father’s house and sitting where he had sat made your blood boil with rage but you kept a calm demeanor for the time being if only for your own sake.

It was a short time later that night that the doorbell rang and you resentfully went to answer it. For some reason, you expected the spitting image of your father to be standing there. Instead, you found a tall, slight man with black hair and a scar underneath his eye. From the way your mother described him, you expected someone more exceptional. You huffed and leaned against the front door, not moving to let him in. You both stood and appraised each other like two gunfighters getting ready for a duel. He broke first and shifted slightly and that was when you noticed the flowers in his hand.

“If you’re at the point where you’re coming over for dinner, you should know that my mom hates that type of flower.” You were nonchalant as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“They’re for you, actually.” Mr. Aizawa extended his arm out towards you and you regarded the small bouquet of daisies with disinterest. You didn’t want him to know that they were your favorite. Still, you took it. There was something strangely endearing about him already-but he didn’t have to know that.

“Wasting money on flowers for me isn’t gonna make me forget that you’re fucking my mom.” You were just trying to get a rise out of him. All you succeeded in making him do was quirk an eyebrow up at you and shove his hands deep in the pockets of his slacks. Mr. Aizawa was so…un-heroic. It almost made you laugh.

Your mother’s voice calling you from the kitchen interrupted your appraisal of the man before you. You opened the door wider and silently invited him in. You led him to the dining room where your mother was making up three plates for dinner. Something about seeing three plates at the table again made bile rise in your throat. You watched as your mother greeted Mr. Aizawa with a kiss on the cheek and a light hug. “Shouta,” she had called him warmly. The bile still swam in your throat.

You barely made it through dinner and the small talk without vomiting. You pushed your food around your plate without committing to eating a single bite. There was anxious energy in the air and you couldn’t quite put your finger on why until both your mother and Shouta stopped eating and kept glancing back and forth at each other. You tried to gauge what was going on from the corner of your eye, but it was your mother calling your name that finally pulled you into the fray.

“We have some news to share with you,” Your mother and Shouta were holding hands lightly across the table and you could tell that whatever was next to come out of your mother’s mouth would be far from good. “We’re getting married!” 

The world fell out from underneath you. You had the edge of the chair that you sat on in a vice grip. Surely you hadn’t heard her correctly.

“What did you just say?” You couldn’t recognize your own voice and Shouta simply watched the scene unfold from his place at the table. He toyed with the handle of his fork.

“I said that we’re getting married! Isn’t that great news, angel?” Your mother was using the voice that she reserved for when strangers were around but she really wanted to scream at you. You grit your back molars together so hard that you could practically hear them squeaking.

“Don’t you ever, ever, call me that again. You know that dad was the only one that could use that name with me. Speaking of dad, couldn’t you wait until he was dead and buried for at least a few months longer before bringing another man into his house?” Shouta held his composure like a statue as you growled across the table at your mother. Something in you was satisfied that he wasn’t running to her aid. Still, static churned loudly in your ears as you waited for her response.

“Don’t I deserve to be happy?” She was embarrassed by the way you were acting.

“No.” The admission damned you.

You got up from where you sat and your mother followed suit. Shouta was the last to rise. You looked between the two of them and barked out a laugh to hide the sweltering tears that wanted to fall. 

“You’re pathetic,” You whispered coolly into your mother’s ear as you pushed your way in between the couple on your way to the front door. You had to get out before the walls closed in on you, and they were closing in fast. 

You were in such a rush to escape the scene that it wasn’t until you were outside stumbling down the sidewalk and sucking in air that you didn’t know you had been deprived of that you realized you weren’t wearing any shoes. You stopped and rubbed the bare skin of your feet against the cement and shivered at the way it tickled. At least it was something to focus on other than the betrayal. You weren’t really surprised that your mom pulled something like this, but it still stung. You didn’t buy into the whole “your dad would want your mom to be happy” sentiment that family friends poured into your ears in the weeks after your father’s death. What your father deserved was happiness. Not your mother and the stray cat she probably found at the train station. You chuckled out loud as you thought of Mr. Aizawa like that. 

In all honesty, he didn’t look like he belonged anywhere and it was hard for you to believe that he split his time between being a teacher and a hero. Still, throughout dinner, there was something about his eyes that kept entrancing you. Maybe your mother was onto something with him.

“You’re gonna get a splinter in your foot if you keep it up.” The monotone voice came from behind you and you slowly turned to see your mother’s suitor situated against the darkness of the night. You glared at him.

“What do you care?” You had to remember that while Shouta wasn’t the enemy, he was still on the opposing team.

“I don’t care, but it seems kind of silly to go and get hurt just for the hell of it.” You lifted an eyebrow at his statement.

“That’s funny coming from a hero,” You stop to look him up and down. “Especially one with as many scars as you have.”

“With my work, at least there’s usually some kind of outcome at the end.” He steps over to perch on a bench underneath a short tree. You cross your arms over your chest and try not to shiver in the cool night air.

“Who’s to say I wasn’t headed towards my own outcome?” Shouta just stares at you. You can tell he’s willing to let you talk yourself in circles and you take the bait. “What outcome do you think you’re gonna have with my mother?”

“I think I’m gonna marry your mom and get a stepdaughter with a horrible attitude problem out of the deal.” Shouta smirks over at you after a second and it’s the first time in a while that you feel yourself crack a genuine smile. 

“You think you’re funny.” You say, trying to fight the edges of your lips back down into a frown.

“Not funny, just observant.” His smile is wider now and it’s almost enough to make the weight on your heart not so heavy.

“Why did you ask my mom to marry you in the first place?”

“I didn’t ask her.” His eyes shift down to the ground and then back up to you.

“What do you mean?”

“She asked me on one of our dates. I thought it was respectable. I think your mother would be good to settle down with before I get too old.” You snort at his answer.

“You think it’s respectable to marry a widow whose husband has been dead less than a year with a maladjusted daughter thrown in the mix?”

“I could do without the maladjusted daughter.” There’s that mischievous grin again and you can feel something inside of you start to crack that you hadn’t felt at all since your father died. It makes you woozy.

“I could do without her too.”

The wedding is planned relatively quickly. It’s a small enough affair to be held in a backyard garden and the day is sunny despite the turmoil you feel raging inside of you. You had been awake since the early hours of the morning, switching between fuming that your mother was actually going through with getting married to someone you both hardly knew and twirling around in front of your bathroom mirror in the dress that you had picked out for the ceremony. 

With your hair and makeup done for the first time in an eternity, you felt quite stunning. It was your vanity that led you to being more cruel than usual to your mom.

It wasn’t like she didn’t deserve it, but even the words slipping off of your tongue felt like they sliced right through the muscle. Your mother called your name harshly as you held her gaze in the big mirror in her bathroom but still, Shouta failed to truly come to her defense. You were satisfied with that. You thought momentarily that maybe he might have agreed with your statement that, “Oh mom, you look beautiful. It’s just a shame that you’re a cunt on the inside.”

You left your mother’s room to the sound of Shouta offering warm words of consolation, could have sworn you heard him offer, “It makes sense that she’s still angry.” You bit your tongue to hide your grin when you heard him fail to refute what you had said. 

You made your way out into the garden covered in lavender and honeysuckle to mingle among the few guests who had shown up. You kept a crystal champagne glass in your hand as you greeted your cousins and extended family. You relished in introducing yourself as “Shouta’s stepdaughter” to the few of his work colleagues that were in attendance. The fleeting appreciative glances that they gave weren’t lost on you and slowly, the cogs of your mind started to mingle with the champagne you drank and as the ceremony started, you started to formulate a plan to ruin your mother’s new marriage. Set it on fire and watch it burn to ash. All it would take was breaking Shouta down and stealing him from her and if there was one thing you knew how to do, it was how to get your way.

After the ceremony came the reception and chairs were cleared away and tables were moved around to allow guests to dance and mingle with each other. You sat by yourself with a sour feeling hanging over your heart. Your mother had actually been cruel enough to get remarried. Their vows and the kiss they shared played over and over again as you sipped on your champagne. The anger was exhausting. Nothing would have been better in that moment than being able to run into the arms of your father and cry to him about everything that was going wrong.

There came a light tap on your shoulder. Slowly, you angled your head to see who was intruding on your bubble of misery. Shouta. He was well put-together, all slicked back hair and an uncharacteristic happy grin. You remembered your own vow from earlier and painted a matching toothy grin on your face. Your eyes flicked down to the hand that he held out towards you.

“Would you like to dance?” You looked at him in confusion.

“What, you know how to dance?”

“There are lots of things you don’t know about me.” Oh, you hoped there were. Still, he smiled pleasantly at you.

“Okay, one dance and you can list off all the things I don’t know about you. For vetting purposes.” Being sweet to him was all part of the plan.

“I think it’s a little too late for vetting now.” He replied as you placed your hand in his and stood up. His hand was large and warm compared to your own. You toyed with the urge to fully lace your fingers through his as he led you to the impromptu dance floor. The song playing was nice and mid-tempo and the lyrics were saying something schmaltzy about love. Shouta held you at a respectable arms distance as the two of you swayed to the music. You could hear little coos of adoration from the couples dancing around the two of you. It fuelled you as you looked up, wide-eyed, at Shouta. He opened his mouth for a second too long before closing it quickly and you cocked your head to the side before running a hand up his bicep. His forehead creased almost imperceptibly.

“What were you gonna say?” You used your most innocent voice, the one that always worked on your dad.

“I know you don’t like when it gets brought up, but uh, I feel really fortunate that your mom came into my life and I’m gonna try my best to be a good role model for you.” The soft smile on your face stuttered as you thought of him trying to replace your father. You managed to stay strong and fight through the feeling. You weren’t mad at Shouta, not really. Just cautious. You needed him on your side to get back at your mom. However, there was something saccharine and sugary and enthralling about the man that stood in front of you. He seemed like someone who could take all of your troubles away if you would let him. As Shouta spun you around to hide his own bashfulness, you decided that he was something you had to have regardless of the ruination of your mother’s relationship.

It was okay if you had a little crush on him as you went about your plan.

You had seven days to yourself; one hundred and sixty-eight hours to be exact. Time seemed to eke by as you split your time between decaying on the couch and finding inconsequential things around the house to make your mom’s life just a bit harder when she returned from her honeymoon. Hair removal cream found its way into her shampoo. Gently used mouthwash found its way back into the bottle. Files in her home office subtly found their way to new homes. All of your pranks were plausibly deniable, of course, and something told you that Shouta would come to your defense.

You were angry after all and you planned to play into that as much as you could with him. He wouldn’t want to rock the boat and get on your bad side so soon after getting married, would he? He didn’t seem like the type of person to want to stick his nose somewhere that it didn’t belong.

As you milled about the empty house on your vacation from your mother, you did more research on your new stepfather. Eraserhead. There wasn’t much to be found on him aside from some news clips with him in the background, long hair floating wildly around his head. At first, you couldn’t believe that the same man holding off hordes of villains was the same man who asked you to dance and vowed to be a good man only days prior. He didn’t seem all that remarkable in his everyday life, but perhaps that was how he wanted it. You kept thinking back to the way he bashfully smiled at you and even though you were alone, you felt blood rush to your cheeks.

Last night as you laid in bed, your mind drifted to what it might be like if he laid on top of you, in between your legs-taking care of you in a different way than what he had meant when you danced together. Your mind had raced as you imagined what his kisses must be like, what it might be like for him to hold you down and make you squirm. It was enough for you to get off, lips parted in a delicious whine as your own fingers pushed in and out of you. You didn’t feel any kind of shame. Shouta deserved better than your mother and even if he might not ever fully grasp that, the least that you could do was sow the seeds of discontent in his mind.

Your musings were interrupted by the sound of the front door unlocking and suitcases scraping past the threshold. You finished gathering a spoonful of peanut butter from the jar and turned to lean against the counter. So, your time alone has finally come to a close. Your mother would ascertain that there would be no more walking around half-naked in front of her new husband, but there was time for one last performance at least.

You brushed one edge of your oversized sweater off of your shoulder, leaving you clad in only your underwear and the cardigan that hung from your frame. You patiently listened to the scuffle of luggage being moved around as you popped the spoon of peanut butter into your mouth. Shouta appeared around the corner and threw his jacket over one of the dining room chairs. He took notice of you immediately.

“We made it back safely!” His words sounded incredibly lame and he never broke his gaze from your eyes. You batted your eyelashes prettily at him as you pulled the spoon from your mouth.

“I can see that.” You were amused at him attempting to make small talk as you deadpanned back at him.

“Our trip was actually really neat. I think your mom took some pictures if you wanna look at them sometime.” Shouta had barely gotten the sentence out of his mouth before your mother was entering the kitchen and her eyes had gone just about the size of Pluto. Your full name sprung from her lips in a shriek.

“You know better than that! Go put some clothes on!” Her words echoed in the now abject silence of the kitchen before you broke out in spiteful laughter and put your dirty spoon in the sink. As you went to leave, still laughing ruefully, you could see an embarrassed blush rising up Shouta’s neck and that had made it all worth it. Your laughter wound down to breathless chuckles as you made it to the hallway and as you paused for a minute to catch your breath, you listened as Shouta once again came to your defense to the tune of, “Honey, it’s okay. She just has to get used to a man being in the house again.”

It’s a relatively easy decision for you to start working out to have more in common with Shouta, even though you’re not very good at it. It made sense that he’d work out. He was a hero and surely the job would be made all the harder if he didn’t have the physique to back it up. At the very least, Shouta seemed like he worked out just enough to be strong for the job. 

His morning schedule is still a mystery to you, so you start to wake up early religiously each morning to work out in the living room within full view of the kitchen. It just so happens that you’re there on your little yoga mat in your sports bra and athletic shorts struggling your way through your second set of squats, when you hear someone moving around in the kitchen. You move your head to the side just enough to see Aizawa appraising you from the counter. You keep up with your routine and try to fight the smirk on your face. You really give an earnest effort to your workout now but you stop when you hear his gruff morning voice. 

“Your form is wrong.” You look over to where he stands, shirtless, pouring a cup of coffee. You’re out of breath and the sight doesn’t help. You stand up to your full height and face him.

“How is it wrong?” You try to hide your breathlessness and the way your tongue wants to stick to the roof of your mouth. He sets his mug on the edge of the counter and crosses over to you. His fingertips airily trace over your spine first. You almost jolt forward at the unexpected touch.

“Your back is too curved. Keep your shoulders back like this,” He tugs your shoulders back until you can feel your spine straighten out. “and your feet are too far apart.” He nudges your feet closer together by a few inches. You let him move you around like a ragdoll for a few moments more. Finally, he steps in front of you and considers your new form. 

“Try it now and see how it feels.” He instructs and you feel incredibly goofy as you go through the motions, his measured gaze never leaving you. You have to admit, the squats feel better now and less like you’re fighting your own body. When you rise to your full height again, you stand with your legs together and cross your arms across your chest.

“That was better.” You confirm, trying to catch your breath. Shouta smiles gently at you and you want to scratch at your skin for the way it makes you feel.

“I’m going on a run in a little bit, you should come with me.” He invites and all you want to do is glug down a gallon of water and collapse onto the floor, but then you remember your solemn vow to yourself and you accept his invitation. It’s all in the name of ruining your mother’s happiness after all.

There wasn’t a lot you knew about heroes. When you were younger, you had a passionate interest in All Might, but so did every other kid in the country. There wasn’t anything special about that.

You were content enough to leave the life-saving to the specially trained heroes. You knew you didn’t have the resolve or compassion to make it as a hero yourself. Still, it was an occupation that you respected from afar. Now, it was something that you got to observe up close every time Shouta came wandering home. Most of his shifts were at night, after everyone was in bed. It was when the real villains could play. Regardless of everything, you admired his ability to train a new generation of heroes during the day and still go out to patrol the streets and rooftops most nights.

You wouldn’t admit it cognizantly to yourself, but you found yourself adapting to wake up whenever you would hear the front door click shut in the small hours of the morning. You would peel yourself out of bed and wrap a blanket around your shoulders as you crept to the end of your hallway to watch Shouta. His goggles would always be pushed up around his forehead. His stubble would always be more prominent than usual. The dim light from the stove in the kitchen always made his eyes look more exhausted than they probably were. From your hiding spot, you would watch him pour a glass of water and sip on it at the kitchen table until his head got too heavy for him to hold up. You would wait until you could hear his gentle snores wafting over to your ears and then you would tiptoe over like you were in church and wrap your blanket around his shoulders. You would work his goggles off of the crown of his head and sit them gently on the table next to him before running your fingers through his silky hair. Your stomach always tingled. You always wanted to duck your head down and place warm kisses on his hairline.

You never noticed his eyes, very much awake, on you as you retreated back to your room.

The thing with time is that it was supposed to heal wounds. Except for you it didn’t. You kept hoping every day that you would wake up and find that you would care a little bit less about the loss of your dad. Maybe even be able to compartmentalize it and get on with your life, get your grades up and transfer schools and move out on your own. Still, you woke up every morning with a deep seated hole in your chest. It was assuaged in little pieces by the family portraits hung around the house. A family picture of your first birthday here. A picture of you and your dad at an awards ceremony there. The little remnants of your dad around the house helped to serve as a reminder that you were still human, as hard as it was some days.

Until one day the pictures weren’t there anymore.

You tore into a blind rage, your mom and Shouta watching from the kitchen as you threw the television remote at the wall. A novel was flung all the way against the refrigerator in the kitchen. You screamed like your head was being torn off. It went on and on until you tired yourself out and sat on the couch to sob embarrassedly, face hidden in your hands. 

You tuned into the whispers emanating from the kitchen. You caught onto your mother telling Shouta that it was time for you to move on, that you were an adult and needed to stop relying on your emotions to guide you. Your hands balled into fists. What did she know? Your head cleared only by a fraction when you heard Shouta answer that maybe taking down the pictures wasn’t the right way to go about things.

You sat on the couch crying for so long that you didn’t realize when the two of them left. You stood, as if on autopilot, and gathered your materials for the classes that you had that day and departed, not caring how you looked, but just needing to get out of the house. 

When you returned that afternoon, the pictures of you and your dad sat in brand new frames on your bed.

It was no secret that you had more friends in high school. You were near the top of your class and always managed to stay on top of gossip and the happenings around school. You missed hanging out with your girlfriends when you were happy, before they all went off to the schools they had been dreaming of for years. You were jealous of them and felt spiteful anytime they would post pictures of the great times they were having on their social media. It didn’t matter that you self-imposed your own exile to wallow in your bitterness. You were envious that your friends were able to fool around with frat boys when all you seemed to attract were the bottom-of-the-barrell burnouts from your college. Not that you were much better than them these days. 

You spent too many weekends holed up in the apartments of your new friends, smoking weed and watching them play video games just for something interesting to do. It almost made you want to turn your life back around and get back on track. Almost, but not quite.

So when you heard of a party happening one weekend, you jumped at the chance to go and rallied your friend group to go with you so you wouldn’t look like so much of a loser.

When you are ready to leave, Shouta and your mother are having an intimate date night in the dimly lit kitchen, sharing wine and giggling at each other over things you can’t make sense of. You wonder what they have in common. Your mother makes you sick to your stomach but a green claw of unbridled jealousy seizes at your chest when you hear the subtle bedroom lilt to Shouta’s voice and when you see how his hand reaches up to push a lock of hair off your mother’s shoulder. You shake off the feeling and enter the kitchen in earnest, dressed in a skimpy outfit that makes your mother’s eyes pop out of her head. You can tell without even looking at her from years of professionally annoying her. You completely ignore Shouta-don’t even give him a spare glance as you walk by the two on your way to the front door.

“Where are you going?” You hear your mother call as you reach for the door handle.

“Out with my friends,” Is all you offer up before you’re gone.

And the party isn’t bad, the music is loud and there’s enough alcohol to placate you for the evening. Even your friends seem like they’re having a good time as they mill about in the crowd. There are just enough people that you don’t know there for you to get comfortably drunk. It’s a good way for you to finally unwind, you think, as you step unsteadily into the messy kitchen. You’re trying to pour yourself another drink when a spindly hand comes out of nowhere and takes your cup from you and finishes preparing your drink.

“I was doing just fine pouring my own drink.” You pout at your friend that you arrived with from the opposite side of the counter and he circles around to stand next to you, too close for what you were comfortable with.

“Nice girls shouldn’t be pouring their own drinks.” He drawls and it was smooth, but you clench your teeth and take the cup from his hand.

“‘m not a nice girl.”

“Sure you are. You just spend a lot of time pretending that you aren’t.” His cool breath is ghosting next to your ear and you’re just the perfect amount out of your right mind to let your eyes close and let your head lean into the feeling. Your mind is a television screen and it’s flickering through what it would feel like to have Aizawa in the same position, doing the exact same thing. 

“If I was such a nice girl, I wouldn’t be hanging out with you, huh?” You lower your voice just enough for only him to hear and then he’s laughing in your ear and his slight torso is pressing against your back and it’s all too easy for you to envision Shouta in his place. Your heart is thumping in your chest, probably so heavily that he can feel it clear through to his chest. Then his nose is pressing against the smooth skin of your neck and his lips are ghosting against you and you can’t help but grip the edge of the counter with your hand that isn’t holding your drink. “Fuck, do that again,” you whisper and press more into his hold, grinding back against the man as his tongue licks a stripe up your neck, hand cradling the opposite side of your head to give him more room. His teeth bite against your skin roughly and you can’t stop the sound that escapes your mouth. It only serves to egg him on, encouraging him to bite and suck at your neck more fervently. Your eyes are shut tight with images of Shouta absolutely ruining you running through your head. It’s not fair to your friend, not in the least, but you warned him that you weren’t a nice girl in the first place. You can feel him hard against your back and that’s enough to startle you out of your reverie. You push him off of you and you can’t turn to look him in the eye. 

“I gotta go…find something else to do,” You parse out and walk on unsteady legs out of the kitchen and back into the music-filled living room. The dancing and drinking is still going heavy but your mood is somber now. You want to be home and you don’t care what it takes to get there as you finish your final drink in only a few sips and set it on the porch steps as you leave the house. 

You weren’t very far from home and despite your level of intoxication, you knew you could get home without forgetting the way. You pulled off the heels that you wore and dangled them from your fingers as you trekked home in the dark. It was hard to keep your mind from your stepfather-the gentle way he cradled your mother’s face in his large palm while he smiled at her and the way he poured more wine for her without her having to ask. You clenched your jaw. That should have been you. Your mother didn’t deserve such a good thing-such a handsome thing. If you had any say in the matter, and by heaven, you would weasel your way in any way you could, Aizawa would be yours and her heart would be broken. It was only fair, he seemed to be the only thing capable of mending the shattered and torn pieces of your angry little heart. You were so fucked.

You were so fucked and lovesick thinking about him as you walked back into your house that you didn’t even register all the noise you were making as you bumped from wall to wall trying to get back to your bedroom. Maybe you were more drunk than you originally thought. You heard Shouta’s voice calling your name from just outside of your cracked bedroom door what felt like seconds after you entered. All you could do was stand there and sway as he watched you from the doorway.

He was clad in flannel pajama pants and nothing else and his hair was messier than usual and you frowned at the sight. It was obvious. He was too relaxed. He had fucked your mother at some point after you left and that made dread settle into your stomach. You wanted to vomit. Shouta was your territory, didn’t she know? Still, you grinned at him like a child trying to get out of trouble. He appraised you, looking you up and down, and you wanted there to be more to his gaze than there was.

“You’re drunk.” It was a statement of fact and it rolled off his tongue weightlessly. You weren’t in trouble.

“I don’t think I am,” You licked your lips and over pronounced every syllable. Your tongue was liquid in your mouth. He barked out an amiable laugh and stepped into your room proper. You were glued to the spot as your heart started to race not for the first time that night.

“Sit down, I’ll get your pajamas.” Aizawa’s warm hand was on your upper arm and guided you to sit down on the edge of your bed. Your skin prickled in his grasp as you let him guide you. Your entire body felt like you were a past-done spaghetti noodle.

“They’re in the top drawer,” You offered up as he looked, a little lost, around your room. You bit the tip of your tongue in between your front teeth to stop from grinning too hard. You liked him taking care of you.

You watched as he dug through your dresser and grabbed a big t-shirt and pair of shorts. He folded the articles neatly in his hands and crossed the room back to your bedside where he placed the pajamas in your lap. You were about to open your mouth to thank him when he took your chin into two of his fingers and pulled your head to the side gently. Your skin buzzed underneath his touch as he ran the tip of his rough pointer finger over the bruise on your neck that you had pretended Shouta had left there in the first place. 

“You’ve been lettin’ boys kiss on you?” He questions teasingly and your stomach clenches so hard you almost can’t reply. 

“Uh, not here,” you swipe your thumb across your bottom lip, “just there.” The reply made sense in your head. You nod your head against the finger on your neck. 

“Well, at least you’re having fun.” Aizawa laughs in earnest, if a little awkwardly, and then his touch is gone from your skin. 

“Not really,” You admit and start to take note of how the room is spinning but you take pains to keep from slurring your words. Shouta raises up an eyebrow at you. 

“Would rather be kissing boys properly, y’know?” There’s a nervous titter between the two of you. 

“Okay,” he chuckles out, hand rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck. “Just don’t let your mom see.” You feel compelled by some force of nature to keep talking despite the voice in the back of your head screaming at you to just shut up and go to sleep. 

“Would you kiss me?” The words slither out of your mouth as if they were lava and the room isn’t spinning anymore, but upending itself over and over again in the corner of your vision as you watch a stricken look cross over Aizawa’s face. 

“I’m your stepdad and I think you need to remember that, baby girl.” He instructs and you hate the way that he sounds like he’s talking to a wounded animal that’s been stuck in a trap. 

“But if you weren’t? What if I was just…somebody that you knew?” 

“I think you need to put on your pajamas and go to sleep before you talk yourself into hurting your own feelings.” Your eyes felt watery and weak. You felt bile rising in your throat and started to panic.

“Fuck, you’re gonna throw up, aren’t you?” Aizawa registered the seasick look on your face and was hoisting you up by your arms and hauling you into the bathroom before you could even nod your head in confirmation. It was a good thing, at least, that he was in his right mind, because you unleashed the contents of your stomach into the toilet not even a second after your knees connected sharply with the tile of the floor. For once, you were thankful for throwing up, because then you could blame the tears welling out of the corners of your eyes on that.

The shit-faced debacle passed blessedly without much mention. You and Shouta went about your daily lives without bringing up how he held your hair back for you and sat next to you while you cried about missing your dad into the toilet seat. Somehow, even through you blubbering mindlessly about how much your dead dad meant to you, you didn’t let anything slip about your plan to ruin your mother’s marriage or your stupid infatuation with the man himself. 

For the past week, you had regarded each other cordially from opposite sides of whatever room you were in together. You would nod in acknowledgement of each other when you poured coffee at the same time in the morning or when you were coming back from studying and he was headed out on some hero’s errand that you really didn’t care about enough to understand. But now, it was the weekend and you were holed up in your room with a joint and a half-done essay to prevent a repeat of last Friday night. 

Loud music and smoke filled your room as you sat on the floor with your laptop and tried to make sense of the argument you were making on paper. For the first time in your college career, you were trying to apply yourself. Secretly, you enjoyed the warm smile that Shouta had given you earlier in the week when you had hung a paper with a passing grade scribbled at the top on the refrigerator. You wanted a repeat performance.

The steady clacking of your nails against laptop keys was interrupted by a knock at your door. You turned your music down slightly and tapped the ash off of your joint as you called for whoever was knocking to come in. Your door swung open quickly and Shouta propped himself against the door frame. You turned your music down lower.

“What are you doing at home on a Saturday night listening to “Karma Police” all by yourself?” He questioned and you rubbed your dry eyes.

“I have a dead dad. I’m entitled to my sadness.” You deadpanned and laughed after a second. The melodrama hadn’t started to get old yet.

“I mean…that’ll do it.” You raised your eyebrows up at him, wondering why he had come to your room in the first place. Shouta cleared his throat and stepped into your room before sitting down on the floor like you were. “You sure you don’t wanna go out and hang out with people your own age?” He crosses his legs as you take one last pull off of your joint before squishing it out on the ashtray next to your knee.

“I was trying to finish this paper, actually.”

“Oh yeah? What’s it on?” You half expected Shouta to say something about the smoke.

“Heroes and ethics or something like that.”

“And you didn’t want my opinion?”

“I like doing things on my own.”

“So you don’t wanna watch a movie with me, then?” There’s that mischievous smile on his face again that makes your heart feel like a galloping horse.

“You could ask my mom.”

“She’s out at a dinner.” You type up one last sentence and hum in acknowledgement of his statement.

“What kind of old man movie do you want me to watch with you?”

“Terminator.”

“Properly retro.” You affirm, closing the lid of your laptop and standing up. “Let’s go, then.” You hold out your hand to Shouta and help him up from the floor. You half expect to hear his knees pop in their sockets as he stands. You lead the way into the living room and sit down on the couch while he pulls up the movie with the television remote. He settles on the couch opposite from you. You’re startled by the overwhelming want to lean your head against his t-shirt clad chest.

“Have you ever thought about getting a cat?” He asks casually as the opening credits roll, remote clinking down onto the coffee table.

“Mom’s not a big cat person.” There’s a quick pause. “I used to have one a long time ago. Dad and I found it behind a trash can. I named it All Might.” Shouta snorted a laugh at your admission. 

“Why’d you name that poor cat All Might?” He pulled a throw blanket down from the back of the couch and fluffed it over his legs. You stared at the simple action. Shouta clocks you from the corner of his eye but you don’t realize.

“I had a crush on All Might when I was little.” You were very serious.

“That’s horrific.”

“Hey, there are lots of things you don’t know about me.” You recalled the conversation the two of you had while you danced at the wedding.

“I know a little bit more about you after peeling you off the bathroom floor last weekend.” Your gaze breaks from his in embarrassment. “You know you can talk to me about missing your dad, right? I can try my best to understand even though I’m not really too good at this whole bonding thing.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you in an attempt to lighten the mood back up. “I want to be a good person for you.” You give him an appreciative glance but can’t figure out how to reply due to the raw emotion seizing your chest. “One good thing did come out of the whole ordeal though.” Shouta continued on and you focused on the deep timbre of his voice to ground yourself.

“What’s that?” It came out in a whisper.

“I don’t have to worry about you getting kidnapped because when you don’t want to move, you don’t. I had the worst time trying to get you into bed.” As you felt your face heat up, you wondered if he caught onto the double meaning as well.

“I’m sorry about all of that.”

“It’s okay, baby girl. It’s not the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.” He lifted up the corner of the throw blanket that was closest to you and motioned you over with a tilt of his head. Surely, he just saw you shivering. He had no ulterior motives. You were the only one with those.

You scooted over apprehensively against the material of the couch until your side rested gently against Shouta’s and he let the blanket float down over the two of you. “It’s cold in here, isn’t it?” You could only nod your head in agreement as the right side of your body felt like it was being engulfed in blue flames. 

Your favorite times lately were spent getting to know Shouta better. Getting to know the person he was away from the house, when he was Aizawa-sensei or Eraserhead. You were realizing that he had many different faces, but at the heart of it all, Shouta was really just a person who tried hard to do the right thing. If you were a person that tried to do the right thing like he did, you wouldn’t still be trying to ruin your mother’s marriage. If you were smart, you would have realized that your plan would hurt Shouta as well.

But you weren’t really a common sense girl. Or a nice girl. You just wanted revenge for your devastated heart.

And certainly, Shouta falling in love with you the way you were starting to fall for him wouldn’t hurt either.

He offered to take you to dinner and show you some of his patrol routes since you had been peppering your interest about his job into conversation more fervently lately. He called it important bonding. Your mother was out on work business again and you thought Shouta might have just been lonely. 

You had a fantastic time walking through the brightly lit streets with him. He was still dressed in all black and his back was hunched forward like he was unimpressed, but something told you Shouta was having a good time. Every now and then, he would point out an alleyway or a building where he apprehended a villain. It filled you with a weird sort of pride to know that he did his job so well. He seemed so fucking…morally upstanding that it made you want to scream.

“You gettin’ hungry?” His measured tone broke you out of your thoughts. You nodded up at him and hoped that the smile you gave him was pretty enough, better than your mother’s at least. “I’ll show you this cool place I eat at sometimes.” Shouta grins. You dig your fingernails into your palm.

You follow him to a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant. It’s run by an older couple that seem to know him well. You end up ordering the same thing he does and you watch as Shouta plays with his wedding ring absent-mindedly while he takes in his surroundings. You can’t figure out how to start a conversation. You tap the bottoms of your shoes against the linoleum floor and he looks at you like he’s about to say something but is interrupted by the little old lady bringing over your food. 

“Is this your new wife, Eraser?” The lady asks as she places his plate in front of him. Her question is innocent but you choke on your spit and watch as vermillion creeps up Shouta’s neck.

“This is my stepdaughter,” he corrects, recovering easily enough and you smile politely at the lady. She smiles back warmly, ducking her head a little bit in consolation for her mistake.

“Forgive me. She’s absolutely beautiful though.”

“Thank you, I know.” It’s your turn for blood to rush to your head. You have to tell yourself over and over again not to read anything into it as the old lady walks away. There’s a charged silence over the table as the two of you focus too hard on your food. You’re the first to break the awkward air.

“I’m thinking about moving out.” It’s abrupt and you don’t realize at first what you’ve really said. Shouta’s eyes widened.

“What do you mean?” He takes a bite of his food.

“I mean, if I keep my grades up, I can still transfer into the university I was originally supposed to go to. I’m planning on summer classes too.” You watch him chew his food as you move your own around the plate.

“I think that’s a great goal to have if you can keep your grades up. I can help you study for your exams if you’d like.” He smiles warmly at you and you feel okay again.

“I’d really like that, Shouta.” You feel the urge to stuff your mouth with food so you aren’t encumbered by the emotions that you’re feeling. Silence settles again over the table. You’re taking a sip of water as you notice his mouth open and close a few times, like he can’t figure out what it is that he wants to say.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, it’s just…adult stuff.” He fiddles with his wedding ring again.

“I’m an adult.”

“I know but I…I shouldn’t talk to you about it.” Shouta looks down at his plate. You nudge his foot with your own underneath the table.

“Come on…we’re bonding, right?” You’re being too sweet, too calculated, but you really do want to know what’s bothering him.

“Your mom is just really difficult sometimes.” He blurts out and you almost laugh out loud but keep up your supportive front for his sake.

“She can definitely be a handful. I was just lucky to have my dad around to help soften the edges for a while.” Your food stands all but forgotten now. You watch as Shouta’s fingers drum on the table just centimeters away from your own. Gently, you slide your hand closer so that your fingertips are touching but you play it off like you don’t notice.

“I think maybe I’m just not used to relationships like this one. Or maybe I just need to finish adjusting. I don’t know.”

“Do you still love my mom?” Your senses are heightened as you speak, but you’re interrupted by the old woman bringing over the bill. Shouta hands over his card and pretends like he never heard your question. He puts his card back in his wallet and slides out of the booth. You still look at him expectantly but he maintains his innocence.

“C’mon, there’s an old record store on this side of town that I want to show you.” He smiles, tight-lipped, and you scoot out of the booth. You wonder why he ignores the question. You want a solid answer why he always runs to your defense (aside from the answer you’ve deluded yourself into thinking is the truth) but you don’t think you’ll be privy to that information tonight. You follow him out onto the sidewalk. You like how you and Shouta are absorbed into the nighttime crowd like any other couple. You don’t talk to each other for fear that your conversation will be lost among the bustle of the people.

Shouta walks with purpose, but never so quickly that you can’t keep up with him. In any case, it would be hard for you to lose him due to his stature. Sometimes you forget how tall he is with the way he hunches over and the way he carries himself. You like the way the neon of the street signs illuminates the sharp edge of his nose. You find yourself staring at the wisps of long, inky hair that frame his face. He was so, so beautiful in a meek way and it’s extremely easy for you to get lost in it. It’s what leads you to almost bumping into his shoulder as he comes to a stop. A giggle, a real giggle bubbles out of his mouth and you feel the final nail being driven into your coffin. You needed him. Like air, like water. He was more necessary to you than he was to your mother. All it would take was a single move. A single move. You could persuade him easily enough that you were a better answer to his question.

“You ready to check it out?” He nods toward the door and starts to push inside without truly waiting for your answer. You try to shake off the millions of emotions that are running through your body.

Inside the record store is warm and smells like old books. You break away from Shouta for the moment and start to paw through the racks of records by yourself. You pick up some of the titles and flip them around to the back, trying to read the writing on the back. It’s hard to concentrate. Your mind keeps stagnating on Shouta’s words and his proximity to you. He’s flipping through the old records the same as you are and you wonder if he can feel your eyes flicking over to him every so often.

He holds one record in his hand but you can’t quite make out what it is. You watch as he looks through one more rack of records before going to the cashier and making his purchase. It gets slid into a brown paper bag with the name of the store stamped on the front. You make your way over to Shouta.

“I’m ready if you are,” He smiles warmly at you and you nod your head, in so very deep. You follow him back out onto the street. He turns to face you quickly. “Here. It’s something to keep you entitled to your sadness.” There’s a barely concealed twinkle in his eye. You take what he holds out with a grin. You pull the record out of the bag.

“You’re so corny.” You laugh, but are touched that he remembered that you listen to Radiohead as he places OK Computer in your hands.

“It comes with the territory.” He speaks easily but nothing gets said on the walk back home. 

Your heart is in danger of pounding out of your chest by the time that you reach the front door. You want to kiss him, to make a move so badly that it’s the only thing that you can think about. Everything that he’s done has to mean something, right? Desperately, you hoped that it did as your fingers fiddled anxiously in front of you. You follow Shouta inside and he walks you to your room like a gentleman.

“Don’t forget this.” Shouta places the record he bought for you into your hands as you moved to open the door to your bedroom. There’s harsh electricity running through your veins that’s bordering on catastrophic. You smile at him as gratefully as you can, nodding your head in thanks as you turn back towards your door. This time, you’re able to get the door completely open and take a few steps before you hear him call your name and apologize in a stage whisper. You fight the desperate feeling in your chest as you feel him tug on your arm roughly and pull you into his hard chest. OK Computer clatters to the floor. It doesn’t matter.

Calloused hands are on the side of your face and then his lips are melting against yours needily. Shouta pulls back just as quickly as he leaned forward but his palms are still on your cheeks. He’s looking at you levelly, letting you make the next decision like it’s a game of chess. Your head feels like it’s full of helium. You watch your hands move from outside of your body as they come to tangle around his neck. You make your play and kiss him back on your tiptoes. The surprise he feels is tangible. The new kiss holds the same probing energy but then expands into something wetter and needier-yet still remains sickeningly sweet. You suck his lower lip into your mouth and sigh in the back of your throat when his hands wander down the curves of your torso to your hips. Shouta breaks the kiss, a string of saliva briefly connecting you for a moment longer and he exhales hard as he lays his forehead against yours. You can’t help but get lost in his permanently bloodshot eyes.

“I-i crossed a line. I’m going to cross a line.” Despite his words, he tugs you closer to him until your bodies are flush with each other. Shame clouds his features and you can’t stand that. Not when you created the perfect storm for this to happen. You play with the shorter hairs at the base of his neck.

“You’re not alone, okay? We’ll cross the line together.” You whisper so reverently that at first you think Shouta might not have heard you, but then you hear a strangled groan come out of his mouth and he’s pushing you backwards until you’re sitting on your bed, surrounded by soft blankets and engulfed in the scent of his mellow cologne. He starts to lean over you and you crane your neck to look over his shoulder dubiously at the door that’s standing almost wide open. It’s the only thing stopping your room from being a sanctuary. He follows your line of sight and turns back around with fiery eyes as if to say, “just be quiet.” You swallow thickly and lean back on your elbows. Shouta crawls up your body, blanketing you nimbly, and then he’s kissing you breathlessly again. You do your best to keep up with him but there isn’t a sense of yours that he isn’t absolutely steamrolling right over. His overwhelmingly hot hands travel up between your soft thighs and push your skirt up around your hips. You can’t stop the pleased sound that escapes from your mouth.

“Fuck, you sound even prettier than I imagined.” He starts kissing down your jaw and sucking at your neck. You hold his head against you and bite on your tongue to stop the salacious moans that are fighting hard to make their way into the heavy air.

“You imagined me?” You whispered, shocked, into his ear. He grins up at you devilishly.

“What the hell did you think I was gonna do, baby girl?” He’s quiet, oh so quiet, but you want to scream so loud that it breaks glass. He kisses you again and you rub your thighs together. His kisses feel better than anything you’ve ever had before. You’re drunk on it. Shouta’s long index finger pulls your bottom lip down. You follow his lead and your mouth hangs open. You watch through hazy eyes as his face hovers over yours and his lips purse. A thick glob of spit falls from between his lips and lands on yours. You feel slick gathering between your legs. His spit is licked off of your lips slowly and you open your mouth again. More. You’ve never seen his eyes so dark as he repeats the action and grinds his rock-hard cock against you.

Your legs wrap around his waist and with your free hand, you guide one of his hands down between your legs. His fingers run over the cotton that covers your slit and you can feel it starting to stick to you uncomfortably. At this point, you don’t care that this is something that neither of you should be encouraging. You’ve already got the feeling that you’ve won, you’re finally getting the vengeance you seek against your mother.

Shouta starts to pull your panties down and doesn’t stop until you’re completely free of them. He kneels on the floor and pulls you closer to his face by your thighs. His fingers knead into the skin there and you can feel his breath against your wet core. An obscene moan gets lost in the air and Shouta shoots a stern glance at you. Sorry, you mouth from where you watch perched on your elbows but you don’t really mean it.

He rubs two of his fingers against your core and you keen against the touch, not expecting it to feel as good as it did. Your mouth lolls open and you try not to squirm underneath the intensity of Shouta’s gaze. He focuses against your clit, slowly rubbing circles around it. You grind your hips down into the feeling and he bites gently into the soft skin of your thighs as you fall apart too quickly on his fingers. Your arms turn to jelly and you slide down until your back is against the comforter. Eyes flutter shut as you get lost in ecstasy.

You jolt back up again when you feel Shouta’s fingers get replaced with his mouth. He laps at your wet cunt like he’s not good for anything else and you feel him pull away just long enough to let another glob of spit fall onto your already soaked entrance. Heat rises through your body when you feel him push a finger inside of you with ease because of how worked up he has you. He curls his finger and watches with a silent chuckle how you have to slap your hand over your mouth to keep your sounds inside.

“Cute,” he mumbles against your thigh and then you’re tugging at the roots of his hair, beckoning him on top of you again. You’re so blindsided by pleasure that you don’t care how you look as you paw his shirt off and rake your fingers through the dark hair on his chest. You babble mindlessly against his ear. It makes no matter to you how you sound.

You start trying to undo the button of his pants.

“So fuckin’ needy for me, huh? My needy girl.” He whispers hotly against the side of your neck and all you can do is nod your head at him and kiss him timidly. The tip of his cock rubbed through your folds and there really was no chance of ever going back. 

“Please,” the request rolls off of your tongue and knocks against Shouta’s lips. He covers your lips with his own again and slowly presses into you. You squeeze your eyes shut at the uncomfortable feeling to begin with. He’s so big and all-encompassing that it’s almost hard to breathe. Shouta pants into the saliva-soaked kiss and bites at your bottom lip as his hips rock slowly against yours. Your fingernails dig into his shoulders at the sensation and you tighten your legs around his waist. 

He grinds his hips against yours until he’s fully seated inside of you. He breaks away from the kiss momentarily to look at you, the tiny little tears pooling at the corners of your eyes from the overwhelming emotion. He runs his thumb through the tears and you bury your nose into the crook of his neck.

“Please,” you mutter again, embarrassed, into the fine sheen of sweat that coats his neck. Shouta rocks into you again and again slowly and deeply and you swear you can see galaxies forming in your field of vision. The heavy feeling of his cock inside of you is enough to have you arching your back into his chest and he fucks your harder and rougher until your grip on him is just at the point of leaving marks. You feel the muscles in your stomach turn to jelly and Shouta focuses his thrusts upward, right into your tummy. You whine against his neck. Your pussy clenches hard around him. He pulls your head away from his neck and you flop back against the mattress.

“Are you gonna cum for me?” He whispers lowly and through hazy eyes, you see a look in his eyes that you’ve seen mirrored in your own. It tips you closer to the edge. You nod your head. “Look at me, baby girl.” He requests and then he’s slapping his hand quickly over your mouth to stop you from being too loud as you reach ecstasy. You don’t know how many more times he rocks his hips into yours before he’s spilling inside of you and you can’t stop your eyes from rolling back into your head. His forehead slumps against your own and there’s a drunken grin on both of your faces as he pulls his softening cock out of you.

He maneuvers the both of you around until you’re both laying on your sides, his chest pressed against your back. You drift off to sleep with Shouta’s fingers running through your hair and feeling like you have just won a long battle.

It had been two weeks since you slept with Shouta. The next morning, in the wee hours, you had woken up in your bed alone but snuck around to give him a quick kiss before he left. He had held you by the waist and cradled your head against his when you kissed him by the front door. He had smiled at you and kissed your forehead, too.

It had been a full week since when he pushed you away in the kitchen and had hissed about how what the two of you had done was wrong. Your mother came in the kitchen while you were speechless and attempting to wipe the stricken look off of your face. You glared at Shouta from across the room while she announced a long work trip that she would be taking at the end of the week.

The night before her trip came and your mother organized an elaborate “family” dinner. You invited the boy that had left hickies on your neck over and after dinner, fucked him loud enough in your bedroom for Shouta and your mother to hear on their end of the house. Being a nuisance and vengeance were what you were good at.

The morning after, your mother left wordlessly on her week-and-a-half work trip. When you did leave your room, you and Shouta avoided each other like two black clouds caught up in a windstorm. You couldn’t focus on anything. Not homework, not shows, not the music coming through your headphones. Silently, you had resolved to curl up in a ball on your bed and let tears run from your eyes freely over the predicament you were in. At this point, even if your dad were still alive, you weren’t sure if he would have good enough advice to help you through this.

It hurt.

It hurt listening through the thin walls to Shouta cluttering around the house like nothing was wrong. It hurt how he only looked at you in passing as he put the leftovers from dinner away as you walked your hookup to the door the previous night. Didn’t he know that he was the reason you were tearing yourself apart? No, that wasn’t exactly fair. 

A violent sob leapt out of your throat and you slapped your hand over your mouth to cover up your residual noises. You were the reason things had gotten so out of hand. You were almost completely blinded by your need to ruin your mother’s relationship that you hadn’t realized that you were sliding down a slippery slope for Shouta. Maybe you were as bad as your mother thought you were.

Your head was clogging up with the frequency of your tears now and it was hard for you to breathe. You couldn’t slow your mind down enough to regulate your breathing and your breaths kept coming out in ragged little pants. You sat up in a frenzy, unable to catch your breath. The disappointed look on Shouta’s face the previous night kept flashing though your head. You were lightheaded as you stood and stumbled on wobbly knees through your bedroom door and out into the living room. Tears coated your eyelashes together but through the blurriness, you could see Shouta sitting on the couch. He sat up slowly, on guard, unsure of where the line was anymore.

“What’s wrong?” His tone was neutral and that was enough to send you into a fresh wave of sobs and panic as your nose was so stuffy now that you couldn’t get a proper breath. You wanted to yell but it came out strangled. You wiped brashly at your face with the sleeve of your shirt and started to wring your hands together anxiously.

“C’mon, what’s wrong?” Shouta had stood and was standing a polite distance away from you now. There was no arm held out to you in consolation but his voice had taken on a tone that was more suited for talking to a dying animal. You felt like one just then.

“I’m-I’m sorry,” You managed to get out through hiccups. Pitifully, you watched the way that Shouta’s shoulders slumped. Still, you sobbed as he stayed quiet. Your knees wobbled perilously and before you could unceremoniously fall to the ground, you lowered yourself to the hardwood in a heap of limbs with your face buried in your hands. For a fleeting second, you wondered if you could die from crying too hard. 

You felt a warm hand on your shoulder. Shouta’s hand. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

“You’re gonna make yourself throw up if you keep crying this hard.” It was nothing but the obvious. His hand squeezed down soothingly on your skin.

“Don’t care,” You muttered stuffily against your palms and curled tighter against yourself. “‘I think I’m gonna die.” Shouta’s fingers worked their way under your chin and yanked your head up more roughly than he had intended and through your puffy eyes, you saw the face of a man wracking his brain to try and remember if there was ever a time in his thirty-odd years where he had successfully used his Erasure to stop a panic-induced crying fit.

“You’re not gonna die.” There’s an annoyed edge to his voice. It makes you cry harder. He heaves out a world-weary sigh and pulls you into his chest. You don’t want his scent to be comforting but it’s exactly what you need at that moment.

“‘m sorry. ‘m just so sorry, Shouta. I didn’t wan-wanna fuck him. Just wanted to make you mad.” Getting the words out feels like running a marathon.

“I know, baby girl. I know.” There’s a pause before he speaks and he warms a little, melting into the sad jumble of your body. You close your eyes and try to focus on that, as if there was any way to repair this.

“Do you know how miserable it is being in love with you?” You look at him with puffy eyes. If your words affect him, he gives nothing away. But your words are the truth. There was only one thing in your life that hurt more than his rejection. His arms around you tighten and then fall away. You wipe your eyes again but it still does no good.

“It doesn’t make sense for you to be in love with me.” He picks at his nails.

“I don’t care. I am.”

“I treated you badly.”

“If everyone stopped loving the people that mistreated them, then the world would be an awfully loveless place.” It’s almost comical how your voice sounds with your nose stopped up.

“That’s not a logical…that’s a childish way of looking at things.” 

“Tell me you don’t love me back.” Your fingers drum on the floor and Shouta’s eyes narrow at you.

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Why can’t you do that?”

“Because you know I fell for the wrong woman. You know I married the wrong one.” Your heart stops.

“I don’t know that,” there’s a pause. “You’re saying that you love me too.”

“I’m saying that I married your mom and fell for you and it’s the most illogical thing I’ve ever done.”

“Tell me that you love me and that I’m better than her and I’ll be okay.” You know you’re pushing him and you should just be grateful that he’s speaking to you again. He sighs deeply, guiltily.

“I love you too. More than your mother. I’ll have a talk with her when she gets back from her trip.”

You grin pitifully at him. You always, always, got what you wanted.

[thelocalmuffin]

herlock sholmes!

Spoilers!!!

Sexuality Headcanon: biromantic

Gender Headcanon: genderflux

A ship I have with said character: Hosolock and Homomiko but very lightheartedly

A BROTP I have with said character: Holmes and Susato. I really like their friendship and somewhat stepdad/stepdaughter vibes going on.

A NOTP I have with said character: Oh dear, I actually don't think I have a direct one in mind besides the very obvious ones.

A random headcanon: Herlock is definitely someone who cuddled Iris late in the night and let her fall asleep on him when she was a baby. He was always tired but never felt complete until he had his daughter.

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Daddy Knows Best, Part III

Title: Daddy Knows Best, Part III 

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI 

Pairing: StepDad!August Walker x StepDaughter!Reader  

Fandom: Mission: Impossible - Fallout 

Word Count: 2.5K 

Summary: August Walker and your father were once friends. One mission, a single decision, made them enemies. August decides he needs to get his revenge. And what better way, than to become your new Daddy? 

Chapter Summary: Daddy and Babydoll take a trip together. 

Warnings: pet names (Daddy, Babydoll, babygirl), age gap (the reader is 18, August is in his late-30s), Dom/sub vibes, oral (m receiving), cum facial, cockwarming, unprotected p-in-v sex, cumshot, loss of a parent (mother), dead dove: do not eat 

A/N: This is different from my usual fics. This would be considered dark!fic in every way possible. If you read the warnings and still choose to read, you are making your own decision. No one is forcing you to read this. This is an entirely self-indulgent therapeutic fic. Enjoy! Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.  

Dividers by: @saradika 

Support/Reblog banner by me

Spotify Playlist is here. 

Cover Art by me 

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

“It’s only a couple of days, Babydoll. I promise I will be back before you know it.” I fold a polo and put it in my suitcase on the bed next to a grumpy Babydoll. 

“You’re gonna leave me here with Mom? I might as well be alone.” That little pout on her face gets me every time. And she’s not wrong. Her mother will ignore her at best, and at worse she will try and connect with her.  

Too little, too late. 

“You want to come with Daddy on his trip, don’t you?” I start thinking about what things we could get up to in my safe house. 

And it could make it easier to do that...other thing I had planned.  

“Please, Daddy?! I promise I won’t take up a whole lotta space and I’ll do whatever you say, I promise!! Please, can I go?” She clasps her hands under her chin and pokes out her bottom lip and I am a goner. 

“Whatever I say, huh?” A couple of things come to mind at that moment and I file them away for later usage.  

She bites her lip to hide a smile, nodding furiously.  

I wink at her, leaning down and claiming her lips. Pulling away and smiling at her, I say, “Go and pack for a three-day trip,” I bring a hand down to cup her pussy, moving her panties to the side and dipping a finger in to feel that she was a soaked mess, “You are going to do everything I say, Babydoll. And you will respond with ‘Yes, Daddy’. Am I understood?” 

“Yes, Daddy.” She wiggles her hips to try and ride my finger, but I pull it away and lick it clean as she watches. 

“Don’t make me have to ask you to go pack, Babydoll.” I give her a stern look and she scurries away. 

Soon, our suitcases are in my Escalade and we are off on our small road trip. 

You wake up slightly as Daddy is carrying you into a cabin under the light of the moon. You keep your eyes closed as you are put into bed and your shoes and jacket are removed. You peek an eye open as you lift a hand to grab Daddy’s arm as he starts to leave. 

A warm hand touches yours, “Daddy just has to make a quick phone call. I’ll be right back, Babydoll.” 

You nod and close your eyes, melting into the plush comforter surrounding you. The creak of the wooden bedroom door shutting is all you hear before sleep claims you yet again. 

I shut the bedroom door and immediately pull out my cell phone. Dialing a number I’ve memorized, I wait until the line is picked up.  

“Timeline’s moved up. Do it now.” Hanging up after hearing confirmation, I make my way over to the small bar in the living room. 

I pour two fingers of Black Label neat and swirl it around, taking a sip. The smoky vanilla liquid coats my tongue as I savor it and then swallow. Whether it’s the placebo effect or not, I instantly feel calm.  

Sitting on one end of the couch, I throw my feet up on the coffee table. Holding my drink in my lap and leaning my head back against the backrest of the couch, I close my eyes and just rest.  

It’s so rare that I can just sit in silence anymore. I didn’t ask to be a father...figure. Not that I’m upset about Babydoll being in my life, far from it. She's perfect for me.  

I’m terrible for her. But she has no clue about that. And I'd like to keep it that way. 

My sweet little empty-headed Babydoll is ready to do anything and everything I ask her to. If pleasing me makes her happy, who am I to stop her? 

I take a sip of my drink and hear the slow creak of the floorboards in the bedroom. I throw my arm over the back of the couch as the bedroom door opens and Babydoll’s head pokes out. 

“Daddy?” Oh, how I love to hear that out of her mouth. 

“Come here, Babydoll,” I hold an arm out as she shuffles across the hardwood in her thigh-high socks and makes her way over to the couch to sit sideways in my lap, “I thought you were sleeping, babygirl.” 

Laying her head on my chest and wrapping her arms around me, she settles in against my warmth. “I reached over for you and you weren’t there and I got scared.” How is she this fucking adorable? 

“Oh, my sweet girl. I was right here the whole time. I promise you are always safe with me,” Safe was kind of subjective, but I went with it, “I’ve got an idea to get you back to sleep, it’ll make you nice and tired.” 

She starts to squirm in my lap and I put my hand on one of her thighs, hooking my fingers in her thigh-high sock and pulling it down her leg. I do the same with the other before I reach over her to put my drink on the table. 

Moving her to the couch, I kneel between her legs on the floor and get my hands under her skirt to pull her panties down. The thought crosses my mind how I went through her suitcase and pulled out all the panties she packed. I want easy access to this pussy while we’re away. 

She snaps me out of my reverie with, “Daddy?” 

“What’s wrong, Babydoll?”  

She leans up and runs her hand over the front of my slacks and grabs my dick. “I wanna learn to give Daddy special kisses too.” Did she know what she was doing to me? 

Fuck. 

I bite my bottom lip and sit back on my heels for a second, looking into her pleading eyes. Standing back up, I open my zipper and pull out my already half-hard dick right in front of those pretty plump lips. “You want this in your mouth, Babydoll?”  

“Yes, Daddy. Please teach me how you like it?” Her eyes go wide when my dick twitches at her words, so she decides to go a bit further. “Wanna taste Daddy.” She’s rewarded with another twitch. 

“Why don’t you grab Daddy’s dick and stroke it first, Babydoll?” The moment she has a hand around me, she licks her lips and it threw me for a loop. Up until this point, she has been my sweet virginal Princess, now she wants to suck me off and it turns me on beyond belief. She reverts to using both hands and that little tongue snakes out again in her concentration. I take my dick out of her hands and grab her chin, “Stick your tongue out for Daddy and keep that mouth open.” 

I hold the head of my dick and spread my precum all over her tongue, pushing just the head inside her mouth. “Now, close your mouth around Daddy’s dick with just your lips. No teeth, Babydoll. I’m gonna fuck your little mouth and then you’re gonna see how far you can go. If you have to stop to breathe, just open your mouth, ok?”  

She hums her understanding around my cock and I twitch in her mouth again. I grab the back of her head and move my hips to shallowly fuck her hot wet mouth. She’s doing so good just letting me use her, and I want to fucking cum down her throat any second but I bide my time and just thrust into her nice and slowly. I stop and pull out, a string of her spit still connecting us. 

She gulps in some air and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, looking back up into my eyes. “Can I try to see how far I can go now, Daddy?” It’s like I created the perfect little cockslut. 

“Yes, Babydoll, I want you to show me how deep you can take me. Now, be a good girl and suck Daddy’s dick.” 

“Yes, Daddy.” She takes me in both hands, licking the underside of my dick then taking me in her mouth. I groan in the back of my throat. She gets about halfway and then begins a slow rhythm of stroking and sucking.  

Not the best blowjob, but for a beginner? Damn fine first try. She takes direction well, she’s eager, and she looks so fucking cute while sucking a dick.  

I feel the coil in my stomach tightening. I was so ready to cum down her throat, but her fucking face was so pretty I wanted to mark it as mine. I run a hand through the sweat-slick hair on my forehead before throwing my head back and grunting.  

“Fuck, Babydoll. Daddy’s gonna cum all over that sweet little face...ugh, fuck, close your eyes!” I pull out and shoot rope after rope of thick milky cum over her beautiful perfect face. When her tongue slips out to taste what landed on her lips, I thought I would never stop cumming. 

Slowing my stroke, I squeeze from the base to the tip of my dick, I wipe the last of my cum on her chin. Luckily, none of my cum hit her lashes or eyelids. When she opens her eyes, I smiled at her. I use my thumb to move a bit of my cum between her open lips and she sucks my thumb so sweetly. 

I take back my thumb and place my hand on my chest to steady my breathing. 

“Daddy, I’m tired now. Can we go to bed?” She yawns lazily and the glob of cum hanging from her chin dances.  

I hold in my laughter and suggest, “Wash your face first, Babydoll. Then bedtime.” I take her hand and lead her into the bathroom so she can wash her face and I can use the can. She doesn’t seem to mind me taking a piss, but she isn't covert as she glances sidelong at my dick. I flush, wash my hands after she’s done and we enter the bedroom together. 

I take off the majority of my clothes, then I decide I don’t need to wear anything. We’re out here free from prying eyes, might as well sleep comfortably. And if that makes it even easier access to that pussy, why not? Removing my boxer briefs, I turn to where Babydoll is going over to her suitcase, no doubt to look for pajamas. 

“Babydoll, I want you to sleep naked tonight." I settle under the covers and make myself comfortable. 

“Yes, Daddy.”  

I watch as she pulls down her skirt and pulls off her sweater and undershirt. That tight little body bounced slightly as she made her way over to the bed. Climbing in, she pecks me on the lips and settles down on her side with her leg pulled up. 

I turn to face her and wrap an arm around her waist, pushing her leg up a bit further with my own so I can slide the head of my dick into her tight wet heat. I groan lowly as she moans from the sudden intrusion. 

“We’re gonna sleep with it inside tonight. I want you to just sleep and warm my cock at the same time.” I could feel her heartbeat racing and her breath quickening as he tries to keep herself calm. 

“Yes, Daddy,” She wiggles her hips in the slightest, getting used to the fullness. 

“Stay still, Babydoll. Daddy’ll fuck you in the morning, ok? For now, just rest, babygirl.” I angle my hips and aim for her g-spot and she’s putty in my hands. 

“Daddy, just right there, please? Please please, I won’t ask for anything else. I promise!” I can’t see her face but I can hear how easily she could cry from the tension. 

“Fine, fine. But I’m fucking you to sleep, Babydoll. You better cum for me when I tell you to.” I stay inside her while moving to kneel behind her, fucking into her into the mattress. 

I lean over her, my hands holding her hips as I continuously kiss her cervix with the tip of my dick. Her moans are music to my ears, along with the slapping sounds of flesh that fill the dimly lit room. I can feel her walls start to tighten around me and reach under her leg for her clit. 

“Cum for me, Babydoll. Cum all over Daddy’s dick, babygirl.” I pinch her little clit between my fingers and the dam breaks. 

“Yes, Daddy!” Her toes curl and her core quivers around me. Her warm wetness coats my length and it’s even easier to fuck into her now. Once I hear the squelching sound of her wet pussy, I can’t help but chase my release. 

“That’s my good girl. Just like that...Daddy’s gonna fuck this tight little princess hole til you can't take it anymore. You’re doing so good taking my cock, babygirl. Fuck...fuuuuuuck. Such a perfect little pussy for me to fuck. Shit! Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum. Ugh, fuck!” I pull out and cum all over her ass and back in heavy white stripes. 

I get up to grab a wet washcloth to wipe away the evidence of my orgasm. Coming back, I realize she is down for the count. Wiping her down, she hums but soft snores are soon to follow. 

Well, I meant what I said when I wanted to fuck her to sleep. 

The next two days are a blur of time with Daddy. The only time he has to go do something alone is the day you left. You wake up and find a note saying that he had to run out. When he comes back, he is in a bad mood and takes it out on your pussy.  

You both load your bags into the Escalade and start your trip home. You sleep most of the trip home, tired from your guts being rearranged. Instead of carrying you in the house, you get a soft nudge to wake up when you are back home. 

"Take your suitcase in, Babydoll. I’ll be right behind you.” He pops the trunk and meets you at the back of the SUV. You pick up your bag and head inside, going straight to your room to drop your luggage. 

It’s very quiet in the house and you wonder where your Mom could be. You check the Master bedroom and the bed is made but she’s not there. The kitchen is empty, and both bathrooms are as well. It wasn’t until something catches your eye in the backyard. 

Something is floating in the pool. Not something. It is someone.  

You go out to the patio, looking into the water you spot your Mother’s lifeless body in the water. 

Before you know it, a blood-curdling scream is escaping you and the world turns black as you’re caught by two strong arms. 

Part IV

A/N: Well, that was a doozy!!! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Guess I’ll just leave this here and see what y’all think. 

**Tag List** 

@raccoon-eyed-rebel @viking-raider @devotedlythoughtfulanchor @livisss @randomweirdoss @brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67 @astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry @rebelangel1102 @mrs-solo-walker [Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁] 

[sunniques]

hey baby! omg u have so many wips thats wildddd im so excited to read all of them once theyre out but im extra curious about the wonwoo one and the first mingyu (desamor)!!

yess i was able to enjoy my weekend, im glad to hear u were too 🩶 today was kinda rough for me ngl BUT my new makeup products arrived and im so so excited to use them!! im also sitting here staring at two sets of photocards (one loona and one seventeen) that i found for sale on a secondhand website and theyre both for extremely good prices but idk if i can justify spending money on pretty cardboard like that yk 😭

how was your day? i hope youre doing well, sending love and good vibes and positivity your way 💗

(also as a final note i was reading the little scenario u came up with along with 💋 anon abt morally questionable doctor wonwoo and im going fucking feral abt it, just thought u both should know)

- 🐇

hi lovely!! i’m really glad you’re excited about my wips <33 and i’m sorry to hear that ☹️ i really hope things get better for you!! ohhh what sort of products 👀 (i’m a makeup girlie pls indulge me) also that’s so real like i always say it’s good to spoil yourself but maybe that’s me spending irresponsibly 😭 do whatever is best for you though! (maybe get one if you don’t feel like spending that much money lol)

my day is going good so far! sending that love right back at u bb❤️❤️

OMG GLAD WE’RE ALL LOSING OUR MINDS OVER THAT MAN FR 😩

ok so wicked games follows stepdad wonwoo who is getting seduced by his seemingly innocent stepdaughter. the plot is kind of crazy, but i don’t want to spoil too much yet 🤭

desamor is going to be my first non dark fic (omg). it follows the story of how you and mingyu fall out of love.

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Daddy Knows Best, Part II

Title: Daddy Knows Best, Part II

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: StepDad!August Walker x StepDaughter!Reader

Fandom: Mission: Impossible - Fallout

Word Count: 2.6K

Summary: August Walker and your father were once friends. One mission, a single decision, made them enemies. August decides he needs to get his revenge. And what better way, than to become your new Daddy?

Chapter Summary: Daddy and Babydoll take a giant leap.

Warnings: age gap (the reader is 18, August is in his late-30s), pet names (Princess, Babydoll), Daddy kink, corruption kink, praise kink, somnophilia, pregnancy kink, dacryphilia, lactation kink, cockwarming, (slight) choking, deflowering, non-con, unprotected p-in-v sex, cum swallowing, Murder Daddy™️ vibes, dead dove: do not eat

A/N: This is different from my usual fics. This would be considered dark!fic in every way possible. If you read the warnings and still choose to read, you are making your own decision. No one is forcing you to read this. This is an entirely self-indulgent therapeutic fic. Enjoy! Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by: @saradika

Support/Reblog banner by me

Spotify Playlist is here. 

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

I am such a lucky man.

Any man in my situation might do the right thing. But when has that ever gotten anyone what they really wanted?

Looking at a perfect flower from afar is just fine, don’t get me wrong. You bend over, you smell it, you leave it to bloom. But plucking that flower and holding it in your hand? Now that is a truly heavenly feeling.

That’s what it was like with my little Babydoll. 

It was a cautious dance. I had to earn her trust. She was Daddy’s little girl, after all. She had her loyalties and she did not like me at first. She didn’t explicitly say it but she missed her father. Who could blame her?

But she was so perfect. And I wanted her. She had to be mine.

And so she would be.

It started with little things. I made sure to get the snacks that she coveted. I called her Princess. I smiled at her and always listened intently to whatever stupid topic she wanted to talk about. She would get so excited to talk to someone who would listen. 

I got the feeling her mother wasn’t exactly her favorite person. She was much closer with her Nanny. I was shocked to find out that she still had a caregiver at her age, but one look at their relationship and it made so much sense. I convinced her mother that she wouldn’t need a Nanny any longer and that I would be taking over watching after her. 

Her sheltered upbringing kept her so innocent in so many ways. It was like her parents fucking gift-wrapped her for me to corrupt. And with Nanny out of the way, I had her all to myself with no prying eyes.

That day she got the sunburn was a godsend. I watched as she slept in the backyard, the sun illuminating her olive skin. I could have easily gone to wake her up, but I wanted her to need me. I wanted her to call for me. 

And soon enough, I hear her voice shout my name. It was burned in my brain. 

As I rubbed the aloe on her warm skin, I knew I wanted to be her Daddy. She needed an authority figure to take care of her, and I took on that role. Since her mother was off in her own world, it would afford me the ability to become her everything.

The way to her heart was care. I told her I would never hurt her, and proceeded to spank her plump little ass. She forgave me afterward, of course. When I wiped her tears and tasted them? Fuck, I didn’t think my dick could get any harder.

And when she didn’t know what to call her perfect little pussy? Fuck! I’ve replayed that moment in my head so many times. I’ll admit, calling it her ‘princess parts’ was entirely self-indulgent. Knowing she was never touched only made me want to forget the plan and fuck her right then.

But there was a time for everything. I settled for eating her delicious pussy. Her sweet face contorting and enjoying my tongue had me hard as a rock. Seeing her cum for the first time was a sight to behold. Fingering her tightness had me wanting to test the elasticity of that wet fuckhole. 

Damnit, she was perfect. 

When I heard her moan for Daddy and knew she meant me, my soul left my body for a moment. It came back so I could take care of her and have the mental image of her in my clothing. She looked so cute and, at the same time, she looked fuckable.

It actually hurt my dick to look at her in my clothes. I had to have her. I couldn’t wait anymore. I needed her and I refused to let this opportunity slip past me. Her mother wasn’t due to be home for hours.

While she slept, I let my hands explore.

Her soft tummy under my calloused hand gave me ideas. What if it was swollen and round with my child? Far too soon to even be thinking about that, she hasn’t even seen my dick yet and I’m already thinking about knocking her up.

I turned her on her back and pulled my shirt up over her tits. Perfect handfuls for me, with areolas that harden at my touch. The way they tightened as I circled them with a finger was almost too much for me. I felt my dick swell as I thought about them bloated with milk. I took one pebbled nipple into my mouth and imagined that she coated my tongue with sweet nectar. When I switched to the other nipple, she stirred in her sleep. I pulled off of her breast and looked down at her peaceful form.

The irony of the urge to impregnate this virgin wasn’t lost on me. I wouldn’t put it past my subconscious to think it could create the next Messiah. I do tend to be a bit ‘larger than life’ at times. I mean, who else but a true sociopath would dream of corrupting an innocent soul?

Fuck it. Call me a sociopath. I won’t lose sleep over it. I’ll be too busy molding her pussy to the shape of my dick.

The first step to doing that was getting my dick inside her. I freed her of my underwear and opened her legs. Placing my palm over her cunt, I could feel the heat that radiated from it. I loved the little tuft of hair on her mound. I preferred it fuzzy anyway.

I slid my fingers down and felt the wetness that escaped her lips. I coated my fingers in her juices and didn’t hesitate to put them into my mouth. She was so fucking tasty. I was addicted to the taste of her and there was no going back. 

As if I wanted to go back after today.

You awoke to the feeling of rubbing on your princess parts. You had tried to stay asleep but you realized you aren’t wearing Daddy’s underwear anymore. You opened your eyes and looked up to see Daddy smiling down at you. 

“Babydoll, you were so pretty while you slept. Daddy couldn’t help himself and had to touch you again.”

You wiggled your little hips, trying to get as much friction on your clitty as possible. You bit your bottom lip and tossed your head to the side in pleasure. Your sweet moans were music to Daddy’s ears if the plastered smile on his face was anything to go by.

“Daddy has a special treat for you, Babydoll,” Daddy pulled his hand away and you whined at the loss of contact. You watched as Daddy kneeled in front of you and unzipped his pants. He pulled a bottle out of his pocket that had a purple label on it and tossed it to the bed. “Daddy wants you to take his dick out.” He pulled you to a sitting position and guided your hand inside his pants.

When you had made contact with soft skin, you wrapped your fingers around its hardness. You pulled it out and the groan that Daddy made went right to your core. You couldn’t fit one hand around it so you used both of them to hold it. 

Daddy’s large hand covered both of yours and moved them up and down. The silky smooth skin moved through your fingers and Daddy picked up the bottle and uncapped it. He poured some of the liquid over your hands and told you to spread it around. You smiled up at him as your hands became slippery and Daddy’s moans became louder.

“Lay back, Babydoll. Daddy is gonna touch your princess parts with his dick. It’s gonna hurt at first, but Daddy will try and be gentle.” Daddy put one of your legs over his arm as he leaned over you. He poured some of the liquid on you and you shivered as the cold liquid slid over your sensitive clitty and traveled downward, “Take a deep breath and then let it out, Princess.”

You breathed in and held it. When you let it out, Daddy tore through you with his dick. The stretch burned and you started to cry.

“Daddy, it hurts!” You hiccupped as fat tears rolled down your face.

“Fuck, Babydoll. You know I love it when you cry for me. It’s gonna stop hurting soon. Just…fuck, your tight little cunny is holding my dick so tight and keeping it warm,” He wraps your legs around his waist and holds your head in his hands. He looked down at you and kissed your tears away, “Daddy’s gonna start moving now. You feel so good, better than I thought you would feel. I want you to tell me to fuck you, Babydoll.”

You looked up at Daddy and sniffled. “Please fuck me, Daddy. Make it stop hurting, please?”

You felt him twitch inside you as he growled low in his throat. He pulled out slowly then slammed back in. Your body jerked with the speed of his hips against yours. The sounds of wet slapping filled your ears, mixed with Daddy’s grunts and your yelps.

He whispered in your ear while he impaled you over and over, “Babydoll, fuck! You are making Daddy so happy. Taking my dick so well. You’re being such a good girl for me. Such…a…good…girl!” He punctuated his words with thrusts into your tight heat.

Soon, the pain slowly dissipated and you were left overwhelmed with the feeling of fullness. An involuntary moan escaped your lips and Daddy chuckled. His hand moved down to play with your clitty and it was all over for you. Within moments, you were clenching around him and crying again from the heightened intensity.

“Yes, come all over my dick. You’re my good little fucktoy, aren’t you? Say it, Babydoll.”

“I’m Daddy’s good little fucktoy.”

“Keep saying it, Babydoll. I’m so fucking close. Just keep saying it.” The hand that was on your clitty had moved to your neck. The slightest hint of pressure kept you still while he continued his onslaught.

“I’m Daddy’s good little fucktoy. I’m Daddy’s good little fucktoy. I’m Daddy’s good little fucktoy.” You repeated the mantra and watched as Daddy’s face contorted and he let out a slew of bad words.

“Fuck, Babydoll. Daddy’s gonna fucking cum. Shit, shit, shit!” Daddy pulled out and stroked himself once, twice. On the third stroke, thick white ropes shot out of him and onto your belly. It just kept coming and you watched in awe. Daddy looked to be in pain but he kept stroking until all that came out was a few drops. He looked exhausted, so when he collapsed next to you, you weren’t surprised.

“Daddy?” You ran a finger through the sticky fluid and touched your first finger to your thumb to see the elasticity of it.

“That’s my cum, Babydoll. You were such a good girl and I wanted to give you a special treat. Open your mouth, baby,” You opened your mouth and Daddy scoops up some of his cum and puts it on your tongue. You swirled the salty substance on your tongue before swallowing. “That’s my good girl, swallowing Daddy’s cum like a perfect Princess. Can Daddy have a kiss?”

“On the lips?” You’ve never been kissed before and suddenly you were nervous.

“Yes, Babydoll. Daddy promises he doesn’t care if you haven’t kissed anyone before. Daddy needs to taste you. Just stay still, and Daddy will show you, ok?”

“Yes, Daddy.” Your breathing picked up as Daddy leaned into you and put his mouth over yours. He exhaled through his nose and his mustache tickled you. He held the back of your head while he kissed you. His tongue pressed against the seam of your lips and you opened your mouth to let him in. When Daddy’s tongue massaged your own, you brought a hand up to get lost in Daddy’s curly mane. You swallowed the groan that rumbled through him.

Daddy broke the kiss and set his forehead against yours. He looked blissful and tired and all you wanted to do was keep kissing him. You moved your head to kiss him again and he nibbled at your bottom lip before peppering you with kisses all over your face. You giggled and playfully pushed him away so you could stretch and sit crosslegged.

He sat up and got out of the bed. He walked around it and crouched down to speak to you at your eye level. He took your hands and made you look at him. With a serious look on his face, he spoke.

“Babydoll, I want you to promise me that only Daddy gets to kiss you and only Daddy gets to put his dick in you. You don’t let other boys touch your princess parts. If a boy ever does that, you tell me and I’ll take care of it, ok?”

“Take care of it?” What did that mean?

“Nobody gets to touch my Babydoll without Daddy’s explicit permission. Am I understood?” Daddy looked like he had a fire in his eyes. Daddy wanted to protect you. And he might do anything to keep you safe.

“Only Daddy gets to touch me. I understand, Daddy.” 

“Good girl. Now, why don’t you go take a shower and Daddy will go start on dinner. I have your favorite for dessert tonight.” His bright smile was infectious and spread to your lips.

“You got the cannolis I like?” You couldn’t contain your excitement and squealed.

“Yes, I got the cannolis. Anything for my Babydoll. But you have to be a good girl all night if you want them. That means you keep what you and Daddy do all to yourself, ok Princess?”

“Yes, Daddy. I can keep a secret. I promise.” 

Daddy’s smile widened and he pulled you up out of bed. He kissed your forehead, and your nose, and pecked your lips before he shooed you off to the bathroom to wash up. 

You didn’t know it, but he watched your every step until you were out of sight. 

As you showered, you thought about the cannolis and Daddy’s kisses. When you washed your princess parts, you felt that tingle like when Daddy touched you. You wanted to play more, but you were still sore so you finished washing up and got out of the shower.

After getting dressed, you went down to the kitchen and watched as Daddy made dinner. When Mommy came home, you couldn’t help but feel a little jealous when Daddy kissed her. Daddy noticed your pout and kissed the top of your head and let you taste test the bolognese sauce.

Dinner went by smoothly, Mommy and Daddy talked about whatever while you spaced out. But when Daddy brought out the cannolis, you were back to your jovial self. You ate your cannoli and excused yourself from the table.

With a full belly of dinner and dessert, you retreated to your room. The musky scent of sex was all over your sheets and you reveled in it. You replayed the events of the day in your mind and you ached to have Daddy next to you again. He awoke something inside of you that only he had access to.

After today, everything changed. He wasn’t August anymore, he was Daddy. And you were his Princess, his Babydoll. Your hand gravitated to your princess parts again and the thought of Daddy’s hands all over you had you soaking your hand in moments. Tasting yourself again, you imagined it was Daddy’s cum and that he was pleased with you.

You drifted off to sleep shortly thereafter, the promise of more to come heavy on your head.

Part III

A/N: Ok, I think I still have more to write. But, do y’all want more?

**Tag List**

@raccoon-eyed-rebel @brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67 @astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry @rebelangel1102 @mrs-solo-walker [Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁]

[ellethespaceunicorn]

hey… when are we going to get a sequel to "daddy knows best…" this is damn good stuff and i can't wait to see what happens next

I'm so glad you asked!!!! The new chapter is up now!!!!!

Title: Daddy Knows Best, Part IV 

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI 

Pairing: StepDad!August Walker x StepDaughter!Reader  

Fandom: Mission: Impossible - Fallout 

Word Count: 3.3K 

Summary: August Walker and your father were once friends. One mission, a single decision, made them enemies. August decides he needs to get his revenge. And what better way, than to become your new Daddy? 

Chapter Summary: Daddy and Babydoll deal with the police, and attempt to move on after the tragedy.

Warnings: pet names (Daddy, Babydoll, babygirl), age gap (the reader is 18, August is in his late-30s), loss of a parent (mother), police interrogation, Dom/sub vibes, unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie, dead dove: do not eat 

A/N: This is different from my usual fics. This would be considered dark!fic in every way possible. If you read the warnings and still choose to read, you are making your own decision. No one is forcing you to read this. This is an entirely self-indulgent therapeutic fic. Enjoy! Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.  

Dividers by: @saradika 

Support/Reblog banner by me 

Cover Art by me 

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist 

You wake in your bedroom, the early afternoon sun shining through the curtains. You roll over on your side and expect to see Daddy but he’s not in the room. Deciding to take a shower and start the day, you rise and undress.  

As you wash yourself, you are suddenly hit with an overwhelming feeling of emptiness and loss. For a few moments, you were free. And then you remembered. 

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