#this is not me bashing him...this is me using what he did in canon against him

[writingreadinglurkingandsmirking]

Hold Me Down (Is This A New Start?) - Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: After a long, hard day of work you just want to go home and go to bed. But, when you get a persistent knock on your door from Rafe fucking Cameron. you know you’re gonna have a long night ahead. Letting him in, after two months of not seeing him, you fully anticipated a screaming match. But, you got something much different than you bargained for—much better too.

CW/TWs: brief angst, brief mentions of Rafe being on house arrest lol, feminine pronouns used, gorgeous/sweet girl/baby/darlin' as nicknames, toxic behavior, canon-adjacent Rafe, mean-ish Rafe, smut, piv sex, oral sex (male receiving), impact play, (not really) lowkey daddy kink, brat reader, dumbification, degradation kink, praise kink, overstimulation, breath play, unprotected sex (be safe I am nawt your mom gn), allusions to a pain kink for sure, mushy gushy sweet ending, not highly edited or reviewed

Words: 8.1k+

Note: 18+ MDNI, really just fucking don’t. I wrote this one in first person because writing in second person irritates my very soul. Uhhhh so this kinda came out of left field and I did nawt plan on writing this but here we are! But such is life! Anyways…back to regularly scheduled programming.

It had been a long day - too long. There was something exceedingly exhausting about living paycheck to paycheck that the average person didn’t understand. There was nothing quite as specific as the exhaustion that you encountered by overworking yourself day after day, week after week, month after month, all for nothing. Because that’s what this all amounted to. Nothing. Nothing extra at the end of the week to take home, nothing to do anything nice with. Just nothing. And nothing sucked the joy out of your day like knowing you’d have to get up the next day and do it all over again.

When I’d finally gotten home from a shift that didn’t end until almost the crack of fucking dawn - a good twelve hours after I was supposed to have gotten off shift - there was not a thing I wanted more than to sleep. Still, even as I sat on my fucking couch, my woes could not end. There was a loud, demanding knock on the door.

The first time I ignored it.

The second time I ignored it.

The third time, an annoyed voice accompanied the knock.

“Baby, open the fucking door,” came the snarl from the other side. I groaned and ran my hands down my face. I really didn’t want to deal with Rafe today. Not like that had ever deterred him before. “Baby, come on. Listen. Please. The cops are fucking trolling around outside. Baby, please open the door.”

I groaned and pulled myself to my feet, opening the apartment door. Standing there, looking at pitiful as ever was Rafe fucking Cameron. The bane of my existence. My more-or-less on-again-off-again boyfriend—though I’d sooner bash my head against the door than admit that. I glared at the ass who had done nothing but make my life harder since he’d entered it. Then, I stepped to the side and let him in. He stepped in and closed the door quickly, locking it behind him. He turned to me and pressed an absent-minded kiss to my forehead before going to sit down on the couch.

“You look like shit, darlin’,” he said. When he even had the decency to look up and notice I was there.

“Thanks,” I said dryly. I looked down at his leg. His ankle monitor looked fucked. “What the fuck did you do this time?”

“Just a little mod,” he said casually. “I needed to get out for a minute.”

“Why did you come here?” I demanded. “Did you stash more fucking coke in my house I swear to fucking God I will kill you. I am not catching a fucking charge for you, asshole.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why would I leave my coke with you knowing that you’d throw it out, baby? That’s just bad business. Besides, darlin’ the cops aren’t outside for me some loser is probably getting caught selling a few doors down again. And hey? It’s a crime to want to see you now, darlin’?” he asked, winking.

“No. But it is a crime to skip out on house arrest, Rafe,” I said blandly. “And I know damn well that you’re not here because you want to see me. I’m just convenient to you like fucking always.”

He rolled his eyes as if I were being the dramatic one. “What’s wrong now, gorgeous?” he drawled. “Always seems like there’s something these days, hmm?”

I clenched my jaw. “Fuck you, Rafe. Get the hell out,” I snapped.

Rafe frowned. Stood again and walked over to me. He placed his hands on my hips, refusing to leave. I, in turn, refused to look at him. “Look at me, darlin’,” he demanded. Reluctantly I did. “What’s wrong?” I didn’t answer. He brushed my hair back from my face and just kept looking at me. “Come on, sweet girl. Tell me…what’s wrong.” He smiled to himself when I still didn’t answer. “You know better than anyone I’m not going to leave until you tell me, baby…so come on…what’s wrong with my sweet girl?”

“Fuck you,” I repeated weakly, pulling out of his arms. I plopped down on my couch, curling into myself and closing my eyes. “Just fucking leave when you see the cops are gone. I can’t be bothered today.” The asshole had the audacity to laugh at my words. “Shut the fuck up, Rafe.”

Dramatically, Rafe sighed and knelt down on the ground in front of me. I felt him grab my knees and pull me to face him. I had no choice but to unfurl, otherwise, I would’ve fallen into him, which I had no interest in doing. So, I leaned back into the couch, trying to ignore the heat of his hand sinking into my cold legs through worn jeans. It was hard to ignore that. Hard to ignore any of him, really. And he knew that. That’s why he only waited through my stubborn silence for a few minutes.

“Come on, baby,” he hummed. “Tell me what’s wrong. I’m sorry I’m a dick, darlin’…you know I care.”

I laughed weakly, eyes still closed. “No. No, you don’t,” I said flatly.

He ignored my words and kept rubbing my legs. “It’s so fucking cold in here, baby,” he commented. “And your legs are freezing. Your heat not working?”

“No, it's working. It’s just too fucking expensive to heat this shitty goddamn apartment and I’m not forking over more money to the cunt landlord,” I said sharply, glaring at him. “Did you suddenly forget what life is like if—” I cut myself off, shaking my head.

He had the audacity to glare back if you could believe it. Then, he slapped my inner thigh. “I told you to call me if you needed help,” he hissed. He slapped my other thigh. “The fuck are you doing? What game are you playing at, baby?”

I pushed him away from me with my foot. “A game where I don’t need to rely on a man who is a fucking wannabe felon,” I snapped.

He rolled his eyes and got to his feet. “Newsflash, baby, you do need me,” he said, sounding way too smug about it.

“Fuck you, Rafe. I need a bullet to the brain more than I need you,” I sneered.

“That’s cute.” He continued on like I didn’t even speak in the first place. “I could give you that, if you want. But that doesn’t change anything about it, darlin’. You need my money, you need my cock, you need my love. You’ve said it yourself that no one gives it to you as good as I do. And I know you haven’t been looking which means you’re still as invested in this as I am. So.” He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes. “When I tell you if you need my fucking money to heat your stupid apartment because your ass is too stubborn to move in with me…then you fucking call me.”

“You are not my fucking father,” I snapped, pulling out of his tough.. “Like I said. Bullet to the fucking brain before this shit anymore. I’m sick of it.”

“I don’t know. You do call me daddy a lot,” he mocked. He smiled down at me, but there was hardly any warmth to it. “But, oh? You’re so sick of it, hmm? You want to be brainless?” He laughed. “Well, I can make you brainless without having to put a hole in your pretty little head.” He wound his hand tightly in my hair, pulling my face towards his while I sharply inhaled. “And you’ll remember exactly why you’re not done with me, gorgeous.”

I glared at him. “I haven’t seen you in two months. The last time I did see you, you called me a stupid, worthless cunt and told me that you never wanted to see me again. And you think you can just show up here and get me to listen to you?” I demanded. I felt my face heating with my frustration. “Just like that? You think you’re…you think you’re worth me listening to?” I laughed. “Like I said. Fuck you, Rafe. I deserve…I deserve so much better than this. Than you.”

There was a mocking pout on his face. He reached out and grabbed my face again, squeezing my chin. “You think you’re going to find someone better than me?” he asked incredulously. He let out a laugh. “And where do you think you’ll find someone like that?” I didn’t answer. I refused to give him the satisfaction. He chuckled, but then his face went serious. “I’m sorry that I haven’t seen you in months, darlin’. I’m sorry that I said I never wanted to see you again. I was pissed, sweet girl. I didn’t mean it.”

“Oh you never mean it,” I said, the sarcasm’s impact dampened by the tearful sound of my voice.

He moved his hand from my chin to cup my face. I hated myself for it, but I did lean into the touch. “Come on, sweet girl…don’t be like that, baby,” he said. He leaned forward and dropped a kiss to the side of my neck. “You know that I love you.” Another kiss, followed by a short nip. “I’ve been busy, darlin’. That’s all. I’m sorry. I should’ve called, sweet girl. I know that. I’m not mad.”

“You were mad,” I accused, glaring at him.

“I was mad, baby,” he said, deceptively calm. “I was…frustrated that you wouldn’t let me take care of you. I just want what’s best for you. But I’m not mad anymore.”

“Well maybe I’m mad at you,” I retorted, harshness still lessened by the teary voice and the way I leaned into him.

“That’s okay,” he practically cooed. He pressed another kiss to my neck then moved so we were face to face, just a breath between us. He smirked, eyes drifting down to my lips and then back up. “You can be mad at me as long as you want, sweet girl. Just as long as you tell me that you love me.”

I sighed and closed my eyes. “No,” I said stubbornly.

“Come on, sweet girl, please,” Rafe purred, stroking my neck with his hand lazily. “I love you, darlin’.”

“I love you,” I said, voice breaking. My eyes popped open and I felt the tears in them.

Rafe’s smirk didn’t waver, but his eyes did soften. He let out a hum and wiped a tear that slipped. “There’s my sweet girl,” he cooed. He leaned forward and pressed a long, languid kiss to my lips. “Let me make it up to you, baby.” Another long kiss—lazier this time. “Let me apologize for calling you names, baby.” Another kiss. “Remind you that you’re my special, sweet girl.”

I huffed. “Oh so you wanna fuck me and suddenly I’m not a stupid, worthless cunt then?” I spat, voice dripping insecurity.

Rafe rolled his eyes so hard I was shocked that his eyes didn’t stick in the back of his head. “You’re not a stupid, worthless cunt. You’re my sweet girl and you know it,” he drawled. “I was a little fucking high when I said that. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”

I gave him a withering glare. “Oh and you’re not high now?” I asked even though I could already tell he wasn’t. He gave me a flat look and I deflated, leaning back, covering my face as I leaned against the arm of the couch. I sniffled. “Okay, I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair. I didn’t mean it.”

He chuckled dryly and rubbed my leg gently. “It’d be fair if you did,” he drawled. He squeezed my leg. “And it’s fine that it’s not fair, sweet girl. I wasn’t fair. So.” He grabbed my legs and lowered them both to the floor. He gently pried my legs open leaning further into my space, hands dancing up both my thighs now. “How about I be real nice and make it up to you?”

“No,” I said stubbornly, glaring half-heartedly down at him. I felt his hand toy with the waist of my jeans, dancing just over the button. “I don’t want you to.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, unconvinced considering I’d begun to lean into his space more, opening my legs to give him more space to occupy, more space to get closer. “Oh?” he posed, tone almost mocking. “You don’t want to?”

“No,” I corrected, grabbing his hand, putting it back on my hair to silently prompt him to grab it just as he did before. “I don’t want you to be nice.” I glowered at him .”It’s been two months, Rafe. I need…”

He let out a low chuckle, eyes dark with quickly emerging lust. “Fuck, darlin’, tell me…what do you need?” he asked.

I blinked slowly, still looking right into his eyes, intoxicated by him already from such a short time together. “I need you to take care of me like you always do,” I said quietly.

Immediately, his hand wound tightly through my hair and he rose to his feet, forcing me to tilt my head up. I felt my breath hitch in my throat as I looked up at him, my eyes wide and wanting. I bit my lip, eyes trailing slowly down his body, to his belt at my eye level, and then back up. He chuckled again, grinning down at me. He wound his hand a bit tighter in my hair making me let out a squeak as he dragged me just a bit closer to his body.

“You need me to take care of you?” he posed, tone just shy of mocking. “Need me to help turn off that gorgeous fucking brain of yours, baby?” He used his free hand to trail down my cheek, fingers briefly touching my neck and stopping there. “Need me to fuck you stupid, sweet girl?”

Taking a shaky breath, I reached out, hand loosely holding his belt buckle. “Yes,” I said breathlessly.

I reveled in the sudden, sharp sting in my cheek. “Try again,” he warned, voice raspy.

“Yes…please fuck me stupid, daddy,” I said, batting my eyes up at him. “I don’t wanna think anymore.”

“Fuck,” Rafe muttered, his voice raspier still, thick with lust. He chuckled and loosened his hand in my hair before dropping it. He took his shirt off and then knotted a hand back in my hair. “Okay, baby. I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of my sweet girl.” He stroked my cheek gently with his free hand before moving it to his belt buckle and undoing it with ease. He then smirked down at me, inclining his head. “Well? Take me out, darlin’.” I glanced down at his open belt but he tutted, tilting my chin back up. “No, baby. Keep your eyes on me.” His request was one that was most easy for me to accommodate considering I felt like I’d die if I looked away from him.

My hands trembled as I reached forward, taking the belt off of him. I was ready to throw it to the side but Rafe held out a hand. Without even questioning it, I placed it in his hand. He then set it to the side and gestured with his head at me to continue. Which, I happily did. I heard him let out a quiet chuckle as I undid the button on his pants and brought down the zipper without breaking eye contact. I almost hastily pulled down the fabric until it sagged the rest of the way down. I raised my eyebrows at Rafe in a silent plea.

“What, baby?” he asked, amused, tightening his grip on my hair. I let out a weak whine and pouted. “What? You gotta tell me what you want, sweet girl. Use your words.”

“I wanna see your cock,” I responded, hooking my hand on the hem of the waistband of his boxers. I tilted my head to the side, jutting my bottom lip out further. “Please, daddy.”

He let out a dark chuckle. “Okay, baby,” he drawled. I hummed, pleased with myself, and looked down, prepared to take his boxers off. But, he tutted, turning my head up with his grip on my hair so I’d meet his eyes again. “Nuh, uh, darlin’. Keep those gorgeous eyes on me still. Don’t you dare even think about looking at my cock yet, baby. Just get it out.”

“But—” I began to complain before being silenced with another warning slap on the cheek making me whine and pull back slightly; not that Rafe let me get very far.

“No but, baby. You listen to me. Be a good girl,” Rafe warned, tone darkening. “You know I want what’s best for you, right, sweet girl?” I nodded through teary eyes, looking back up at him. He cursed under his breath at the sight, tightening and then loosening his hand in my hair once more. “Good girl, baby. Such a good fucking girl. Now, get my cock out. And don’t even look at it.”

I shivered at the order but complied. I reached and used two fingers to gently drag the fabric of the boxers down until they too gave way, falling down past his knees. Using every bit of restraint I had, I kept my eyes locked on his, refusing to look at his dick even as it hung directly in front of my face. Rafe hummed, his free hand moving from his side to wrap around himself, pumping lazily. I swallowed, biting my tongue as a reminder to keep my eyes up. A mocking laugh fell from Rafe’s mouth at the sight and I felt my stomach tighten.

“Oh there’s my good girl,” he cooed. “She can finally fucking listen, huh? So proud of you baby. Little slut that you are, I didn't think you’d be able to do it.” I let out a tiny whimper at his words, feeling a growing, heated pit of arousal low in my stomach. I shifted slightly, just barely able to keep my eyes from falling down. He chuckled again and pursed his lips. “How about you take your clothes off for me baby? Then I’ll let you look all you want at your favorite part of me.”

“All my clothes, daddy?” I checked. He nodded. I all but raced myself to do so. I whipped off the shirt I had on with ease and shimmied out of my jeans easily enough. Sitting there in my bra and panties, Rafe told me to stop and so I paused, looking up at him. “Yes, daddy?”

“Nothing, darlin’…just wanna look at you a minute,” he said, eyes dark with lust. “So fucking pretty, baby. God on fucking high, can’t imagine what I did to deserve such a blessing.”

“Stop,” I dismissed, blushing.

“Nah, baby. You’re a fucking twelve-course meal and I plan to have all of ‘em,” he dismissed, stepping closer and grabbing my chin. “And you aren’t gonna say some dumb shit like that again. We clear, baby?”

“Yes, daddy,” I murmured, feeling his thumb ghost up to trace my bottom lip. My breath hitched in my throat and he seemed to remember himself.

He pulled away and smirked down at me. “Bra and panties off. Let me see that pretty pussy, darlin’. Been missing it so much while I was gone,” he purred. I shivered at his words but peeled them off, shivering at the cold feeling of the air against my nipples and the cool fabric of the couch against my exposed core, quickly growing wet. “Fuck you’re so pretty. Look at you…all this…just for me.” He came closer again—even more this time—and his hand loosely went around my jaw, jerking my head up. “You are just for me, aren’t you baby?” I nodded immediately. He glared, his voice gruffer. “Words, darlin’. Or I might not be inclined to be too nice to you.”

“Yes, daddy,” I said breathlessly, wide-eyed. “All yours. Just for you.” I felt my heart beating rapidly in anticipation of seeing Rafe smile down at me. “Daddy?”

“Yes, baby?” he asked, hand still hooked around my jaw.

“Can I look please?” I asked sweetly, pouting up at him.

His lips quirked into a smirk and he narrowed his eyes looking at me, appraising. “I don’t know, baby. You think I should let you?” he asked.

“Please,” I said, pouting. “I just wan’ you. Want to see you. Wanna have you.”

“Awe with my sweet girl saying all that, well how could I say no?” he drawled, removing his hand from my neck to trail back and join the other in my hair. “Go ahead and look, darlin’. Take as long as you’d like.”

Ever so slowly, I broke my eye contact with Rafe, trailing my gaze down to his dick. Rafe’s confidence even as he stood bare as the day he was born was one of the things that had initially attracted me to him. But, looking at him now, lazily pumping his hand over his cock while he smirked down at me? I don’t think that I’d ever been quite so down bad for him. Which was…concerning, maybe? Pathetic, perhaps? But I didn’t care. At that moment, with his long, thick dick just hovering right in front of me, all I could think about was how badly I wanted him. Of how long I’d wanted him…of how long I’d waited.

“What? I don’t even gotta fuck you to turn that pretty brain off anymore?” he said, voice an alluring growl as he let out a dark sort of chuckle. “Got you so trained to take my dick you don’t even try to fight it, do you sweet girl?”

I shifted at his words, suddenly feeling my core flutter at his words, clenching regrettably—miserably—around nothing. His smirk increased tenfold at that and he stepped closer so that there was practically no space between us, not that there had been much before. Now, his cock stood proudly just next to my face. Again, ever so slowly I raised my eyes to meet his again. And the desperation must’ve been clear in my gaze if the smug, self-satisfied look in his were anything to go by.

“And this was supposed to be for you,” he hummed. “My dumb little baby won’t be able to think for herself and tell me what she wants when I get started, will she?” I let out a pathetic little whimper. “You just need something in that sweet little pussy and your perfect mouth, huh?” His eyes trailed down to my lips, briefly displaying the heated desire he was feeling before moving to meet mine again. “Tell me one thing, darlin’, okay? Think your cute lil’ brain can take that?”

“Yes, daddy,” I said, voice coming out breathy. I squirmed slightly, squeezing my thighs together to avoid doing something like grinding on the couch and making him stop this before it even started.

“I don’t have too much patience before I gotta get in that tight fucking cunt, gorgeous,” he drawled. “So…tell me. You want me to eat that pretty pussy? Or do you want to choke on my cock?” He grinned, sharp-edged and shark-like. “It’s up to you.” An aborted moan came out of me at his words. The answer for me, right now, at least, was obvious. I glanced down at his dick and then back up. “Nuh uh, darlin’. You tell me which one you want.”

“I want you to fuck my throat,” I whined, looking up at him wide-eyed.

Rafe chuckled, hands tightening in my hair. “I’ll give you a pass on not addressing me properly this once because you said something so sweet, darlin’. But don’t do it again,” he said, half-mocking, half-warning. I nodded eagerly. One hand released my hair. He pat my cheek and then held my jaw tightly between two fingers. “That’s my girl.” The possessiveness dripped off his tone. “Now be good for daddy and open that fucking mouth.”

My mouth fell open without much thought after that. He grinned as I left it open, tongue sticking out just the way he liked it. His thumb pressed down on my tongue, head tilting slightly to the side as he looked at me. I moaned at even that simple feeling, my body practically trembling with want for him. But, for a good few long moments, that’s all he did, slowly pressing his thumb more against my tongue. But, after a few moments, he drew it away, using his free hand to lazily pump his cock—still only half-hard—in his hand. I inhaled shakily, eyes looking at his heavy cock, knowing the weight and feel of it without even touching it.

“Mmm,” Rafe said, letting out a leisurely sigh as he jerked himself off in front of me. “You want my dick, sweet girl?” I nodded eagerly, tongue still shamelessly hanging out of my mouth. “You want me to make you choke on my fucking cock, baby?” Again, I nodded and he groaned. “You’re so fucking sexy, darlin’, fuck.” I watched with rapt attention as a bead of pre-cum leaked from the tip of his dick. I heard Rafe chuckle not a moment later. “Holy shit are you drooling, baby? Fuck, you really want this dick, huh? Well, I don’t wanna leave you wanting.”

Rafe used the hand in my hair to bring my head closer and anchor it in place. His other hand still held his dick that he was bringing towards my awaiting mouth. The second I felt the tip of his dick touch my tongue I groaned in appreciation at finally having something, feeling myself growing wetter and wanting. Already, with him not even having touched me yet, I was a mess. Rafe knew it damn well too. He chuckled, slapping his dick against my tongue making me inhale sharply then let out a tiny little whimper.

“Should I stop teasing you baby?” he said, voice measured, even, and entirely unaffected—as if he were in a business meeting and not getting ready to ruin my throat. “Should I make sure you lose your voice tomorrow now?” I nodded as best I could while ensuring that his dick did not fall from my tongue which just made him let out another low groan. “Alright, then, baby. You asked for it. Time for you to put that fucking mouth to work.”

I barely had the time to inhale before I felt Rafe’s heavy member settling against my tongue. I let out a breathy moan, reflexively hollowing out my cheeks and bobbing my head to take him further into my mouth. I moved my hands to touch him and he slapped them away.

“No fucking hands,” he grunted, pulling my hair so I’d look up at him before pushing me down to the hilt of him, nose settling against his pelvis. He cursed and I felt his dick pulse in my mouth as he looked down at me, eyes dark and wanting. “So fucking pretty when I’m stretching your fucking mouth open, baby. Look at you. So fucking good.” My core fluttered again at his words, clenching and unclenching while I felt myself starting to dampen the couch slightly the wetter I got. “Gonna fuck your throat now, darlin’.”

With the minimal warning issued, he thrust heavily, pulling out of my mouth almost entirely before thrusting entirely back in. I forced myself to breathe through my nose, relaxing before something unfortunate could happen like my gag reflex being triggered. I moaned around him, using my tongue as little as I could find myself able to when he started to consistently, aggressively thrust himself to the back of my throat. I whimpered at the feeling, grinding absent-mindedly against the rough fabric of the couch, letting my tongue trace along the vein on the underside of his dick.

Rafe caught sight of my desperate rutting against the couch and he let out a dark, slightly breathless chuckle without interrupting the pace of his thrusting. “God, look at my desperate fucking baby. What, is daddy not taking care of you fast enough? Fuck,” he grunted. “You wanna grind like a desperate, needy, brainless little toy? I should make you fucking get off of my thigh without me touching you?” My choked whine of displeasure at the threat made him let out another mean sort of laugh. “Don’t worry, darlin’. That’s gonna be for later.” I let out another whine at the promise then. “Yeah, baby. Gonna make you get yourself off on my leg and then I’m gonna eat your pussy so good. Gonna make you cum for me at least five times before I stop. I’ll fucking tie you up if I gotta, gorgeous. Gonna make my sweet girl so overstimulated she’s not gonna think ‘bout anything but my fucking cock…my fucking mouth…my fucking hands.” Each word was punctuated by a pointed thrust down my throat. “As if you think about anything else, my dumb little fuckin’ baby, yeah?”

When he pulled out of my mouth entirely, releasing my hair, I reflexively gasped in a breath of air, eyes wide and watering. I looked up at him. But, Rafe was still non-plussed by how fucked out I already was. He wasn’t even pausing, barely breaking even a bead of sweat across his gorgeous, obscenely perfect body. No, instead, he knelt down in front of me, one hand making its way immediately to my pussy and finding my clit like two ends of a magnet attracting to each other. He let out a low tutting sound, shaking his head at me as I bucked my hips against his hand before I could stop myself.

“So fucking sloppy, pretty girl. Is this all for me?” he asked, his voice both teasing and harsh. “Barely even done anything to you, baby. You’re just that much of a needy little fuckin’ slut for me, huh?” I let out a high-pitched keening noise and he hummed, wrapping his hand around my throat to make me focus on him even as he slipped two thick digits inside of me. “You want me, baby?” His voice was husky, rasping and his alluring eyes were locked intently on me.

“Yes, daddy,” I whined, voice weak around the whining and moans that I couldn’t help but release as he finger fucked me into oblivion. Even with so little direct stimulation, I felt my legs starting to tremble and my stomach starting to tighten, coiling and ready to barrel quickly towards release. Rafe could tell too based on the way my pussy was practically trying to swallow his fingers whole. “Please.”

“Please what, sweet girl?” he cooed, pretending like he didn’t already know damn well what I wanted.

“Fuck me,” I begged.

“Oh but you sound so pretty when you’re whining, gorgeous,” he groaned. “And I need you to be nice and fuckin’ ready for me. So I need you to cum for me before I fuck you.” My stomach tightened further just on the edge of sweet, sweet release that I’d been missing the past two months while he was missing on fucking house arrest. “Okay, baby?”

“Okay,” I sobbed, hips trying to buck even as he used his massive hand to direct my hips to keep the rhythm he wanted, the other tightening around the outside of my throat, making my eyes roll.

“Good girl,” he huffed. He paused his speech a moment, his fingers moving even faster, making me choke out a sobbing moan, head falling back until he squeezed my throat again in warning, making me lift my head. He then issued a command. A single word. “Cum.”

And who was I to disobey?

The coil in my stomach exploded into a mirage of light behind my eyes as they rolled back. I felt a slightly shrill shriek erupt from my mouth more than I actually heard myself. And all that I could think of beyond the veil and haze of pleasure was the feeling of Rafe’s hands, his skin so close to me. He supported my body as I slumped against him, both of his hands moving to rest low on my hips.

“Good job, gorgeous. You look so fucking pretty falling apart for me,” he encouraged, his voice an appreciative, warm grumble of affection. His hands ghosted up and down my sides. “You ready for me to fuck you, pretty little thing?”

“Yes, daddy,” I said, letting out a long, shaky sigh. I reached out, hands trailing up the planes of his solid chest, leaning my head on him to listen to his steady, calm heartbeat. “Thank you, daddy.”

“Of course, baby,” he said. I could hear the smugness in his voice but I didn’t care. He leaned me back on the couch and moved to get up. I let out a whine of dissatisfaction and grabbed his hand tightly, pulling him back towards me. He looked amused as he raised a brow. “I have to go get a condom, sweet girl.”

“No,” I said stubbornly.

“No?” he asked.

“Have you been fucking bitches on house arrest?” I asked, bottom lip jutting out.

He reached out, pulling my lip down and looking at it in undisguised intrigue. “No,” he admitted.

“Well, then you haven’t worn a condom with me before. So fuck’s sake, Rafe just fuck me,” I demanded.

Rafe’s eyes had a hardened sort of glee to them. His hand moved before I registered it and my head turned as his palm made contact with my cheek. Again, my core clenched around nothing. This time, I bit back the moan that threatened to escape.

“Who?” he warned, sounding all too happy to remind me of my place.

“Fuck me, daddy,” I reiterated, still with an extreme attitude. “Fuck me, don’t pull out cum in me, I don’t care. Just fuck me, daddy.”

“Drop the attitude,” Rafe said, a final warning.

“No,” I spat, knowing exactly where it would get me. You know, right where I wanted.

Instead of slapping me again as I’d first expected, Rafe tilted my head up with just his pointer finger under my chin, his shark-like smile back again. “Do you want to be punished, baby?” he asked, sounding all too eager. I offered no answer. He used his free hand and slapped me, harder this time. I couldn’t bite back the moan this time, or the way that my hand tried to drift between my legs. He caught my wrist easily to stop me. “Answer me or I’m gonna stop. I’ll walk out the fucking door, darlin’.” My bottom lip quivered at the thought, chest heaving. “Do you want a punishment, baby?”

“Y-yes, daddy,” I admitted after another stubborn moment.

“Well why didn’t you say so, darlin’,” he cooed sarcastically.

In a flurry of movement, Rafe sat on the couch and had me over his knee. My bare, soaked cunt made contact with his hard knee and I choked on a moan at that feeling. I barely had time to register the change in position before he landed his first hit on my ass. I yelped at the feeling, reflexively trying to squirm away from the pain, even as I felt a jolt of pleasure at the feeling. Rafe held my hips in place easily with one hand, keeping me firmly on his lap, and used the other to lay a hard slap against my ass, making me yelp again.

“That feel fucking good baby?” he grunted, slapping me again. I didn’t answer, a sharp, hissing inhale coming from my mouth. Another slap. Another whimper. “You should be fucking thanking me for this, darlin’. Disciplining your unruly fucking ass. Making you my good girl.”

“Thank you, daddy. Thank you, thank you. Please,” I whimpered, reflexively trying to squirm once more when his hand made contact with my ass yet again.

“Please, what, sweet girl? Remind you that you’re fucking mine? Oh, I am gonna, darlin’. This is just part of it,” he ground out. I could feel his rock-hard cock pressed against my side and I was torn between wanting it stuffed in my mouth and my pussy. Both thoughts escaped from my mind entirely as he landed another slap against my ass.

“More,” I ground out through clenched teeth, barely able to resist the urge to grind against his thigh and knee with the desperation that I was feeling.

“Needy little slut, you are, huh?” he asked, amused. His hands stopped their cyclical pattern of slapping my ass to rub the abused flesh for a moment. I felt his hand move between my legs more, teasing my entrance with his fingers. Naturally, I opened my legs for him. He chuckled at that. “Can’t wait to be stuffed with me, can you? Already brain dead to everything but me, aren’t you, sweet girl? You’re just my little plaything right now, aren’t you?” I buried my face in the couch and let out a groan, feeling his hand circling my clit again, lazily, not creating enough friction to do anything.

“Daddy, please,” I whined.

“Don’t worry, pretty little thing. I know just what you need to cum again. I decided I need two from you before I fuck this sweet little fucking pussy,” he grunted. With sudden and almost startling accuracy, Rafe slapped me again. This time, his hand made contact not with my ass but with my pussy, the sharp slap making me gasp and jerk from the pain. I let out a half-aborted scream and rocked back into his palm, panting from surprise. He openly laughed. “You didn’t think I forgot how much you liked that, did you, darlin’? Remember that real fucking well? So I’m gonna take care of this pussy just the way I know you need it.” I let out a breathy moan mixed with a cry as he spanked my clit once more. Again and again and again he did it until I felt like I was dripping sweat on my whole body and my pussy was soaked with my juices—the couch too for that matter. “Fuck me, baby, your pussy is so pretty all puffy like this. She’s just crying for me. You want me so bad your poor fucking brain can’t handle it, can it?” I let out a pathetic little whimper, unable to muster much more. “I tell you what, darlin’. You cum from me slapping this pussy and I’ll fuck you til you pass out if that’s what you want. You wanna do that for me?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” I gasped immediately, hardly even grasping the words just knowing that I wanted the pleasure that had been slowly building to finally reach its fucking crescendo.

“Good girl,” he said before unleashing a series of slaps to my pussy in a pattern that I couldn’t have anticipated if I were in his damn brain myself.

This time, as I tumbled over the edge of pleasure, I wailed, jerking against his hand. I collapsed against Rafe’s leg as the aftershock of the second orgasm washed over me. I gasped for air like I’d been drowning and I felt Rafe’s hand tracing up and down my back lazily. As I caught my breath, he placed a final sharp slap to my pussy making me let out a weak yelp of complaint. Without being too gentle, Rafe maneuvered me off of his lap and over the arm of the couch. He let out an appreciative groan and I lifted my head to look back at him. I was startled to see him lifting the belt. My eyes widened as I felt him wrap it around my wrists, quickly binding me.

“You’re not getting away from me, gorgeous. Not when I finally get to fuck my pussy again. You’re nice and ready for me,” he said, sounding almost absent-minded as he spoke to me. He grunted as he slid into me with a single thrust. When he bottomed out we both let out moans—his low and mine high and keening—and I felt my body shake. “Fuck. When you can feel your legs I’m gonna fuck you so hard in doggy you’re gonna not walk the day after. But right now I just gotta finish the job, baby. Gotta turn your fuckin’ brain off forever.”

With that, he started to purposefully piston his hips, holding my bound wrists behind my back for better leverage. I was nearly boneless, shrieking in pleasure as his hot, throbbing cock stretched me open and brushed against each and every nerve ending just right—at least that was how it felt. How he felt. His thrusts were deep and slow and pointed. I sobbed against the feeling, wanting to rut back into him to make him speed up. But, I couldn’t muster the strength. So I just let him fuck into me at his own pace and I felt myself starting to build towards another bout of pleasure—this bound to be even stronger than before if the stars already behind my eyes were anything to go by.

“Daddy, please,” I sobbed, not knowing if I wanted more or less stimulation, more or less pleasure, from him.

Regardless of what I wanted, Rafe didn’t say anything. He grunted out a noise of acknowledgment that I’d spoken then doubled down in his efforts to make me cum again. And when he wrapped his arm around my throat again, tightening quickly and entirely, it was over. This time, as he forced me to a third orgasm, I was actually sobbing, tears running down my face from the fucked up amount of pain and pleasure entwined in being so overstimulated in such a short period of time—especially after so long away from him.

“There’s my good fucking girl,” Rafe said, voice slightly hoarse as he slowed his thrusts to a stop.

He still hadn’t cum himself, his dick fully pulsing inside of me with how hard he was. I dreaded what that meant, even though I also fully anticipated what I knew would come. He gently undid the belt from around my wrists, releasing me, and then eased himself out of me. He flipped me around on the couch and I looked at him with big watery eyes.

“Please no more,” I said, tears slipping down my cheeks. “It’s too much, please.”

“Come on, darlin’,” he cooed, pressing kisses to my cheeks. “Come on, sweet girl. You can give me one more. Been missing my pussy so much. You know I need one more from her.” Another series of kisses, the last one a long and lingering, filthy one to my lips where his tongue entwined with mine and we both pulled back needing air. “Please, baby. One more for me.”

His hand moved down, gently tracing my clit, making me jolt. Already I was so sensitive, so overstimulated. But, the impossibly sweet and imploring look on his face? The hunger he had for me? It was impossible to deny.

“Okay, daddy,” I agreed, sniffling.

He leaned his forehead against mine, grinning. “That’s my girl,” he said softly.

He hitched my leg up over his hip, settling between my legs on the couch. He used his free hand to grip his cock, looking down at us. He gently slapped the head of his dick against my clit once, twice, a third time until I whined and he chuckled, reaching over to press a short kiss to my lips to shut me up. He ran himself up and down my slit over and over until I was shivering and he saw a tiny dribble of new arousal dripping from me. He let out a low moan of his own and then sank into me in one, hitching my leg up again so he could thrust as deep as humanly possible.

“There you are, gorgeous. There’s my beautiful fucking girl,” Rafe praised, pressing a kiss to each cheek, to my lips, and to my forehead as he steadily thrust into me. “So fucking perfect for me. So fucking good for me, baby.”

“You feel so good, daddy,” I said, eyes rolling back and then curling as he pressed down on the slight bulge in my stomach only present because of him. “Thank you, daddy.”

“Anything for you, baby. Fucking anything,” he grunted. He ground slower against me instead of thrusting for a few moments. “You don’t get to keep me from my pussy anymore, baby. I gotta fucking be with you.”

“Wanna be with you, daddy,” I babbled in agreement.

“Good fucking girl,” he huffed, pressing down on the bulge again making me whimper. I felt his dick pulsate again and I tightened around him habitually making his breath hitch. “You gonna cum for me one more time, baby? I’m so fucking close.”

“Yeah, daddy, I’m gonna cum,” I whined. “Please can I cum? Please, please, please?” I begged.

“Fu-fuck yeah,” Rafe stuttered. “Cum with me baby.”

And this time, as I fell across pleasure’s razor edge once more, Rafe fell with me. I felt as he came inside me, hot and deep. My eyes rolled at the feeling, almost addicted to the mere feeling of him being so close and intensely part of me at that moment. I held him without realizing it, nails digging into the skin of his back as I held him against me, ignoring the fact that I was trembling like a leaf.

“So proud of you, my sweet girl. So good for me, gorgeous. Love you so much. So good for me.” Those were the first things I was coherent of hearing again when the whooshing in my ears had faded. They were the sweet praise that Rafe was offering. He went to move—to pull out—but I held him to me still, almost wrapping myself around him like a koala to stop it.

“No,” I denied. “Don’t move yet.”

“Okay, baby,” he agreed. “I won’t pull out. Do you want me to hold you?” I nodded. He carefully moved us. I winced as he adjusted us so that I was sitting up and in his lap because it made him deeper for a moment still but as we settled that faded and I just melted into his chest. “I’m so proud of you, baby. You did so good.” He stroked my skin and hair for a moment. “I gotta get you cleaned up, sweet girl. Get you some water.”

“Not yet,” I denied again, eyes closed as I leaned against him, as much of my skin touching him as possible. “Take care of me in a minute.”

He chuckled. “Oh? You’re gonna let me take care of you?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I answered absent-mindedly. “Fine. You can take care of me, Rafe. I’ll stop being stubborn.” I needed his help. He’d been right about that when he showed up, I was adult enough to admit that. And I knew that he loved me. That he meant it from the best place.

“Really?” he asked, disbelieving. “You’re gonna move in with me? Let me take care of you? Just like that? All I had to do was fuck you like that?”

“Yeah. That’s all you had to do,” I agreed, far too exhausted to explain the complex detail of it in truth. I let out a breathless laugh though, a thought occurring to me when I felt a cool bite of metal and plastic on my leg. “Well, as long as you don’t get arrested for busting out of house arrest.” I cracked open my eyes to give him a smile.

“Shut up, I'll be fine,” he muttered. His hands held me closely, tightly, possessively to him. “You don’t get to take it back. I get to take care of you now. To make sure you’re safe. You’re gonna live with me, sweet girl.”

“Okay, Rafe,” I agreed softly, reaching up to stroke his cheek gently. He leaned into the touch and I smiled. “I will.” I leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, laying my forehead against his.

“I love you, baby,” he murmured, so quiet I could barely hear it.

“I love you too,” I replied, just as quiet, just as simple.

He smiled at that, the sight making his eyes go warm and sweet. “Alright, then, gorgeous. Let’s get you cleaned up and get the fuck out of here,” he said. His smile morphed into a cheesy sort of grin—the kind I rarely got to see. “Let’s go home.”

For once, I couldn’t disagree. And I couldn’t help but echo the cheesy smile. “Okay, then, Romeo,” I teased. “Let’s go home.”

[4izawas]

╰─▸ ❝ 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐙𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒! ❞ ──── 𝐟𝐭. 𝐬. 𝐚𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐰𝐚.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: “If I see that stupid bitch touch you again, I’ll kill her,” you growl, then yelp when he suddenly flips you, your chest and cheek against brick and his chest to your back. // “If she ever pulls that shit again, I’ll let you.”

𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: my hero academia | 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: shouta aizawa/f!reader | 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: nsfw ; minors dni | 𝐰/𝐜: 9.30k.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: age gap, previously established relationship, jealousy, canon typical harrassment, heavy miss joke bashing, death threats, fem reader, villain reader, possessive reader, reader is just a bad person chat idk what else u want me to say, discussions of trauma ( but aizawa refuses to call it that ), morally ambiguous aizawa, ngl he’s also not a great person but he’s hot so it’s okay, villain/hero, femdom, maledom, teasing, biting, nipple sucking, oral sex, slight choking, switch reader, switch aizawa, dacryphilia, fingering, pussy slapping, tit slapping, spitting, creampies, daddy kink, marking, hickeys, also a cat, tko = tofu knockout, class 1-a are little shits.

𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐜𝐚𝐬: kinktober fourrrr !! hnngggg aizawa is always a must <33 and ngl? fucking hate miss joke so we gon bash <3

— 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 !!

“C’mon, Eraser, just one date! Just one!”

“No means no, Joke — we’re in the middle of a fucking job, so leave me alone and do your part,” Shouta mutters just loud enough flr her to hear with nothing short of sheer annoyance in his voice as he overlooks the streets and back alleys surrounding a building in east Fukuoka just past midnight that night. The Smile Hero, Miss Joke, stood at his right shoulder; due to a necessary team up at the request of the Commission upon Hawks’ request for backup to assist in breaking up a newly discovered human trafficking ring, the duo were paired up and sent to the rooftops for out-of-sight assistance, where Eraserhead could use his quirk without the risk of interruption as the team below entered the building. 

Well. Almost without that risk. 

“Oh, don’t be that way, Eraser, at this point us meeting up all the time’s gotta be fate!” she laughs quietly, grinning brightly at him. He grumbles a little to himself, but doesn’t turn away from where he was glancing around below for any threats that could potentially fall upon the strike team moving through the halls of the building, their locations revealed by the large windows.

More of Joke’s chatter drones on in his ears, and Shouta fights off the annoyed growl that threatened to escape him; why couldn’t it have been Hizashi he was paired with so he’d have backup? At least Hizashi knew how to be quiet and professional, what with his hero persona just being a face for the public — and it wasn’t as if Miss Joke didn’t know how to do her job, she actually did it very well, she just ceased to properly function whenever he was a part of the picture for some reason. Hizashi and Nemuri had both thought it was funny at first, but that was years ago, before it had become an actual problem. 

Shouta tenses up when an overly-familiar hand squeezes his shoulder, and he grits his teeth. “Stop touching me,” he snaps lowly. “For God’s sake, Joke, be fucking professional.”

Miss Joke sighs. “I never see you outside of the rare team up for work, Eraser, what do you expect?”

“I expect you to keep your hands to yourself and for you to do your job,” he says coldly, shaking off her hand. She sighs again, this time in a more dramatic way. 

“Nothing’s gonna happen up here!” She mutters, “We’ve been up here for an hour. They aren’t going to patrol this area, and if they weren’t we should have moved.”

“This is the best vantage point for me to see as much of the building as possible,” he replies, silently relieved that she’s actually discussing the job and not some aspect of his body. 

A groan follows his words, and then a startled curse. He turns in time to catch sight of her grappling with a much larger man with a fly mutation quirk, something he couldn’t cancel. Spitting out a curse of his own under his breath, he leaps into the fray to help as three more men starm the roof. “Neither of you should be up here!” One snarls. “This is private property — you’re trespassing.”

“Shut up,” is all Shouta says, and the fight starts. He leaves Joke to the man with the fly quirk and takes on two of the three other men, the third standing back and watching as Shouta doles out his fair share of bruises while receiving plenty of his own. Once he’s almost completely handled his pair, he sees the third guy make his move from the corner of his eye, his musculature growing as he activates his quirk. Activating his own, Shouta turns his body to brace for the impending impact that would come with the guy jumping at him. A low grunt escapes him as the air is knocked out of him, and as he locks eyes with his new opponent he distantly hears Joke let out an angry shriek after likely taking a particularly harsh hit. One of the guys Shouta had been fighting had abandoned him to go join the fly guy in fighting Joke, so she likely had her own hands full and wouldn’t be able to help in any way — not that he needed it. The only really talented fighter out of the four enemies on the roof was the last man to join the fray, and Shouta could handle him. With a few skillful throws of his capture weapon, Shouta’s more or less finished up his end of the fight. 

A sharp cry from Miss  Joke practically yanks his attention from his opponent so he can look at her, and he finds her on her back against the roof with one of the men with their thick hands around her throat; she’s clearly struggling to breathe. The other man is unconscious, but unbound. A tiny shot of worry races through Shouta’s veins. 

The brief moment that he’d looked away was more than enough for the unnamed enemy to re-engage his strength quirk, and the man burst from the slightly loosened confines of Shouta’s scarf, throwing his entire weight at him. With a surprised shout, he’s thrown faster than he’d expected over to Joke. The man on top of her leaps to the side just before Shouta slams into her, and for a moment the world turns end over end before they’re falling from the roof of the ten story building. 

It takes a second for Shouta to right himself, but before they hit the ground he’s able to wrap one arm around Joke while the other throws his scarf at an overhang on the building he’d been scoping. It catches as intended and they drop to the ground safely, Shouta stumbling a little with the added weight of Joke clinging to him. He can hear the men on the roof opposite them snarling angrily, fixing themselves up and shouting threats against their lives. While they do, the team that had rushed into the building begins filing out, handcuffed traffickers in hand and victims being led out by a few officers. The shouting on the roof silences almost immediately. 

“You alright, Eraser?” It’s Hawks that asks after appearing over his left shoulder with a bound, angry looking man in hand and dangling as the massive red wings on the pro hero beat against the air; the Number Two tilts his head to the side slightly in curiosity while his golden eyes flash in concern as he asks. 

“On the roof,” is all Shouta says, getting straight to the point. “Four men, all working for the ring inside.” Hawks’ pupils narrow to sharp slits, and a dozen feathers zip into the air and over to the roof Shouta had nodded his head towards. Loud yelling and shouts fill the air, followed by shrieks as the feathers binding the men bring them down to the ground. They’re quickly apprehended by the police force assisting the pros in the bust, and all at once the entire event is over. The human trafficking ring that Shouta himself had been focused on bringing down for nearly four years now was destroyed, and all current victims were safe. 

He wishes he could sigh in relief, but there’s an annoying weight on his shoulder. 

“Get off of me, Joke, the danger’s over and this is incredibly unprofessional,” he growls, noticing the way people were staring; he rubs at his eyes to soothe the ever-present burning that came with his quirk use, especially now after the USJ incident; the scar on his face aches at the memory.  

“But something could happen!” Miss Joke exclaims, clinging tighter to him and looking up at him like what he’d said was crazy. “More could be waiting — and I haven’t even gotten to make you laugh yet or agree to that date.”

“You won’t get to do either, now get the fuck off of me!” He snarls, practically tearing her from his side and stepping away. She looks hurt, but he can’t bring himself to care. He was done being nice — clearly it wasn’t working. 

“But Aizawa—!” she starts to whine, but he cuts her off. 

“It’s Eraserhead. You have no right to call me anything else.” With that he storms off, disappearing into the darkness of a nearby alley before making his way through the shadows. All he can think about is the shower waiting for him when he gets home and how filthy he felt having Joke’s hands on his chest and shoulders. It’s why he’s taken by surprise when a heavy figure pushes him into the wall and binds his hands with his own weapon. 

Instinctively he struggles, snarling out a quick threat before the familiar scent of a perfume he’d bought himself reaches his nose, and he relaxes. 

“Evening, Eraserhead,” you murmur lowly, eyes narrowed in displeasure as you look over him, and inwardly he groans. Judging from the tone of your voice, you’d seen all of Joke’s behavior,  but had heard none of what he’d said. You had to have been out of range. 

It didn’t surprise him; Shouta knew you were fond of keeping a watchful eye over him or Hizashi or Nemuri whenever on of them was on a mission like this. You’d have accompanied any of them, Shouta especially ( and tonight of all night most definitely ), but that would have been a foolish decision on your part and everyone who knew you personally would not have been pleased with any possible outcome that followed.

A known villain like yourself would have been swiftly arrested by any police officer or pro hero that didn’t know your civilian identity — and only the three aforementioned people did. 

“It isn’t what you think,” he says tiredly, and a bitter laugh escapes you. Shouta winces; you were hurt. 

“Isn’t that what they all say?” you ask coldly, and Shouta does not reply. He’s too busy staring at the slight tremble in your chin and the way your eyes are getting slightly wetter. 

God. Joke really did have to fuck up everything.

He sighs. “I mean it. It isn’t what it looked like.” You look at him, pondering the denial; Shouta wasn’t a liar. Not once throughout the years you’d known him had he lied to you, even when he’d been after you to arrest you before the two of you had started dating. 

Fine. 

You narrow your eyes. “Talk.”

So he does. He admits to the harassment, to Joke ignoring boundaries and not caring about how many times he’s requested she leave him be. He talks and explains and confesses to things he’d kept secret from you for years, and it takes over half an hour. Over the course of his explanations, the grip you’d had on him goes from a deadly one to one so loose he can barely feel it. The spots would bruise, but he’d wear them with pride as he did any other marks you gave him; you’d not meant to hurt him, and he’d be damned if he let you get into your head about how tight your grip had been. 

By the time he’s finished, you’re shaking — not from the cold, he knows, but from ill-concealed rage. 

“So you’re telling me that you told her to get off of you and to stop touching… and she didn’t?” Your face has been swiftly schooled into an impassive blank canvas, a look he hasn’t seen in years and therefore can no longer read. Hesitantly, he nods, and your eyes flash with an anger he’d not seen since Nemuri was kidnapped by a sex trafficking ring three years back. “And this has been going on for years, but you haven’t told me until now because you thought it would strain the relationship.” Another nod. Your eyes narrow. “Noted. She’ll be on the news tonight.”

You release him from his binds and disappear, scaling the wall and racing across the rooftop. Shouta barely has time to think, but he doesn’t have to in order to follow you, quickly catching you and standing in your way of getting to Joke’s usual patrol route.

“No, you can’t kill her. Not tonight,” he says warningly, and you look angry. 

“You told her to stop and she didn’t. You've told her to stop for years. She doesn’t listen, and she thinks it’s okay. Heroes won’t ever do anything, Shouta, you know that.” The venomous tone you’re sporting  is unmatched, and if Shouta hadn’t known you as well as he does, he’d think it was aimed at him; thankfully he’s known you for years. That being said, he did know that, and honestly it stung a little. 

“I can handle it tonight.” The poison in your voice has transformed into the thickest, most sweet honey as you tempt him. Your eyes are soft, your gaze gooey and only possibly described as sticky sweet. “It could all be over, baby — she’d never bother you again.”

It’s tempting. More tempting than a pro hero should ever allow — but Shouta’s never been the kind of man to balk in the face of the wicked and condemn them for their actions without thought. He was not a good man, and  he doubted there ever was one — he was kind, he was wise, and he was gentle when required, but if he was as good as society deemed the word, he would have turned you in five years ago when the two of you met and he’d captured you after you’d murdered three men. Instead he’d been attracted to you, and a game of cat and mouse had started between the two of you that only ended when he’d caught you again and taken you in an alleyway. 

“That’s wrong,” he murmurs, hands shaky as his heart rate quickens; god, you were so fucking sexy when you promised to murder for him. 

“I never implied that it was right,” you admit casually. For a moment silence stretches out between the two of you, Shouta once again pondering the offer you’d made, then he shakes his head again. 

“No. Not tonight. I don’t feel like scrubbing blood out of the bathroom again,” he says tiredly, and you pout. 

“It’s never usually mine,” you grouse, crossing your arms and turning to look away. 

“And you know how happy that makes me,” he replies warmly, “But I want to be able to hold you and go to sleep tonight without the looming pressure of scrubbing the bathroom in the morning; you know how Hizashi is with blood, and he wanted to go out for breakfast tomorrow before work.”

You let out a wordless grumble, still not looking at him. He searches what parts of your face he can see with the angle you’re turned, and jumps a little when you look at him with nothing but promises of death in your eyes as he lets you push him against the wall again. “If I see that stupid bitch touch you again, I’ll kill her,” you growl, then yelp when he suddenly flips you, your chest and cheek against brick and his chest to your back. 

“If she ever pulls that shit again, I’ll let you,” he promises while pressing slow kisses along your bare skin, biting at your neck and drawing a whimper from your lips. He grins against you. “Go back to the apartment and let me finish my patrol so I can get the hell home and fuck your dumb little brains out, kitten.” A shaky moan falls from your lips and you push your ass back against him. 

“Or you could just fuck me here?” you offer hopefully, your eyes glittering darkly with a newfound interest he knows all too well. “Please Daddy, I’m so wet for you-” A sharp smack to your ass makes you cry out. 

“You fuckin’ heard me, brat — go home.”

With a growled huff, you tug yourself free from his grip, still pouting. Shouta raises an eyebrow; your next move was yours to make. Would you defy him and go after Joke, or would you listen and go home? Either decision would be preferable, and if he was honest he wouldn’t mind you doing what you pleased to Joke tonight as long as you didn’t track blood into the apartment, but why would he admit that now?

You huff again, and promptly disappear into the inky blackness — away from the direction of Joke’s patrol route, and Shouta barely fights off an amused chuckle. 

You always were such a good girl for him. 

When Shouta finally gets home at half past four, the apartment is dark. He can smell the scent of food from his favorite takeout place, though the initial strength of it is soft and faded, and the soft hum of the television in the bedroom keys him in on where you’ve retreated to.  Toeing off his boots, he wanders into the bedroom, rubbing at the back of his neck as he takes in the sight of you curled up in the bed you shared with him, surrounded by pillows with the little grey cat you and he had taken off the streets curled up in your lap, dozing. Shouta sighs; as calm as he was now, Shouta knew damn well the little monster you’d for some reason named Tofu was going to slap him for no fucking reason later, so he thanked whoever was listening that the little guy was napping right now so he could take a break and wash off all the filth from tonight’s bust and patrol. 

He wanders into the bathroom, stripping down to the clothes he wore beneath his hero uniform and kicking the black mass of cloth towards the laundry hamper; the urge to piss was far greater than any need to pick them up off the floor right away. 

After finishing up, he hops into the shower, eager to rid himself of the grime he’d collected overnight, and once he’s done he makes his way back into the bedroom, lazily toweling himself dry before moving to the dressed to pull out a pair of sweatpants.  

“What are you watching?” he asks you quietly as he puts them on, and you shrug. 

“I don’t know,” you reply, and he raises an eyebrow. 

“You don’t know?”

“No, I haven’t been paying much attention,” you admit quietly, gently playing with Tofu’s tail; he keeps dozing, unbothered. “I’ve had a lot to think about.”

Suddenly the warmth Shouta had felt like he’d sucked in from the shower disappeared, leaving him cold and nervous. You’d had several hours to think about everything he’d told you, and he worried that you were mad at him now. Admittedly he’d technically lied for a long time, keeping secrets from you and not telling you how he felt about Joke for years, so he really couldn’t blame you for being upset with him, even just a little ( or a lot ). The only comfort was that you were still here — because Shouta knew you. If you were going to leave him, you wouldn’t have been in the apartment when he’d returned. Just like you’d first entered it all those years ago, so would you leave it should you choose to abandon the relationship: quickly, silently, and without any reasons to raise suspicion. 

Thinking about it, Shouta didn’t even know if you’d take Tofu if the two of you separated. How would that work?

“We aren’t separating, and I’m not leaving you,” you say tiredly, and Shouta fights off the urge to kick himself; he’d spoken out loud without meaning to. 

You sigh. “That being said, I do want to know why you didn’t tell me.” Shouta tries to repeat what he’d told you, but you look away. “The truth, Shouta. Not the excuse you made before.”

Silence. 

It takes a moment, but finally Shouta just drifts to the bed and sits down on his side with his back to you, looking down at his hands. “Shame,” he finally whispers, and you look at him with a confused gaze. “I just… how could I admit that I couldn’t get her to stop when I’m a pro hero?” Your eyes turn soft and understanding, and he continues in a tone of disgust, refusing to look at you. “I feel so weak. I’m a grown man and I couldn’t fucking stop her — I can’t stop her. I already know the next time we cross paths she’ll be the same. Nothing will change, and I’ll always be… stuck.”

A second silence overtakes you both. You say nothing, only watching the way his shoulders have a slight tremble, before moving Tofu and kicking back the thick layers of blankets, crawling on your hands and knees over to him. He doesn’t look up at you, still staring at his own hands as you cup his head in yours and move his head up so you can see his face. 

He still doesn’t lock eyes with you. 

“Shouta,” you murmur softly. “Look at me.” He makes no attempt to move. “Please?” He does as asked, and you smile softly. “There’s that handsome face,” you murmur, your voice as warm as his morning coffee, and he scoffs. 

“Don’t coddle me,” he mutters, and you grin, not missing the way his lips quirk up in a soft, blatantly fond smile.

“If I don’t, who will?” you ask teasingly, and his tiny smile widens ever so slightly. You grab one of his hands in yours, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles as you sit back on your calves, and your sweet smile twists. “Besides, haven’t I made it obvious to you? You’re mine. Nothing’s gonna change that, Sho, and no one is going to be able to take you away from me.” A murderous gleam flickers in your eyes, and Shouta finally looks up at you just in time to catch it. 

His shoulders droop as he relaxes, his muscles losing the tension he’d built up tonight. Somehow, despite the very clear ( though unvoiced ) notion of just what you could and would do if someone tried to take him from you would normally frighten someone else, he felt at ease. 

His eyes close and he relaxes into your touch as you creep close again, this time straddling his thighs while holding him close; he lets his head fall to rest on your chest, and he sighs from the comfort. “Do I need to spell it out?” You whisper softly to him as you lean down to press an open-mouthed kiss to his stubbled jaw, your hands roaming over his shoulders in a way that has him tensing up for an entirely different reason. 

“Maybe — Maybe you do,” he whispers shakily, tilting his head just enough for you to get to that special, ever-so-sensitive spot that you knew had his cock twitching. You laugh softly, your teeth lightly scratching along his heated skin, and he shakes a little as he fights off the urge to move. 

You gently push him back to rest against the stack of pillows you kept on the bed, and his head falls back in pleasure as you purr out a warm, gooey, “M…” against the base of his throat. Laving your tongue across the skin there, you feel him swallow hard, and you laugh lowly again, your voice thick and sweet like syrup as you continue with a simple, “I…” before moving down to his chest. From the corner of your eye you see one of his hands fist in the sheets, and you fight off yet another chuckle as you slip your way down his body before stopping at your next target: one of his dark, hardened nipples. You don’t hesitate to take it into your mouth, your hot tongue circling the sensitive flesh in a way that has his upper body trembling. It presses hard into the soft, wet pad of your tongue, and the breathy sighs falling from his lips as you lavish it in attention while twisting the other amuse you. Grinning slightly, you take it between your front teeth and tug at it a bit, relishing the sharp whine and stuttered moan he lets out from the feeling; his chest had always been so sensitive. “N,” you say, drifting down yet again. Your fingernails dig ever so slightly into his skin and follow the rest of your body down, scratching across his sensitive nipples and leaving him whimpering louder than before. You finally still before your prize, thick and heavy and hard and hidden from you, and you breathe out a wanting, “E…” as you curl your fingers around the waistband of his sweatpants and pull them down slowly to reveal the tip of his dripping cock. 

Eyes glittering eagerly, you draw his sweatpants down further, releasing the rest of his length as well as his balls, and you gaze at the way it bobs up to slap against the skin of his stomach. His balls are fat and heavy, and you swallow the drool that’s accumulated in your mouth before taking his cock in one hand, slightly turning your head to the side, and tracing a thick line from his balls to his drooling tip with your tongue. A choked noise is ripped from his throat, and you press your tongue against the sensitive spot under his head and lap at it softly before purring a pleased, “Mine.”

It takes a moment, but as his thighs tremble around your head and his breathing gets heavier and heavier, Shouta finally manages to reply. “Yours,” he whispers, and your grin turns wicked with anticipation.

“Yeah, you’re all mine,” you murmur to yourself before taking his cock into your mouth again, this time sucking lazily at the tip until Shouta’s shaking. Looking up at his messy figure above you, you soak in the picture of his heavy breathing and his squeezed-shut eyes as he falls to pieces beneath your touch. Splaying out your fingers, you run your hands across his thighs as you work your way down to the thick, dark curls around the base of his cock. Your fingernails scratch at his sensitive skin, and his thighs quake as you finally fully nestle his cock in your throat, your nose buried in his pubes. He’s clean, as always, and he’s used your favorite body wash; Shouta lets out low noises of pleasure as you slowly begin to bob your head along his length, sending it down your throat then pulling off it all over again until he’s sitting up, his stomach rolling ever so slightly as he stares down at you while panting. 

“Fu-uck, wait, I-!” he moans, instinctively bucking up into your mouth. You laugh a little around him while languidly sucking at his cock, and he groans deep and hard from the feeling of the vibrations before fisting his hand around your throat and tugging you up. “Y’gotta — Y’gotta stop, I’ll cum,” he grunts, holding you up by your neck. You use one thumb to swipe at a smear of pre on your cheek before sticking it in your mouth to suck it clean. 

“That’s the point, Sho,” you say, rolling your eyes. “I want it.”

“And you’ll get it,” he replies with a growl before yanking you up so you’re laying on top of him before rolling you over onto your back with him hovering over you. “Only you’ll be taking it in this tight cunt of yours, so I hope you’re ready.”

He watches the way your pupils blow ever so slightly, and his tongue darts out to wet his slightly chapped lips as you gaze up at him with soft, gooey eyes. With a grin you ask, “Well Daddy? I thought you were going to fuck me?”

A warm hand comes up and gently grips the column of your throat, and your eyes widen slightly as Shouta leans down with a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Do you really want to tempt fate tonight, sweetheart?” he asks coldly, a wicked smile on his face, and your legs spread a little in response. 

“I don’t feel anything,” you purr teasingly, “Don’t tell me it’s already in?”

Without warning, his free hand claps down onto your already sensitive pussy and you let out a choked howl, eyes wide with surprise. During your quick reaction he’d buried his face in your chest, sucking and biting at whatever he could get into his mouth as the hand that had just slapped your cunt gently begins to toy with it soothingly, cooling the stinging and causing a tightness to start building in your belly. 

Shouta was no stranger to the sweet spots scattered across your body and eagerly took advantage of each and every one, biting down on sensitive flesh as his fingers gently eased inside of you and began feeling around inside — teasing, of course, considering he knew where the most sensitive spots were inside of you and he purposefully kept himself from touching them. His thumb runs rough, lazy circles on your clit, and you start rolling your hips up into his hands as he worms his way down the bed, finally releasing your throat. You’re practically dripping now, a small wet spot forming on the sheet below you as your juices roll down past his hands and the curve of your ass to puddle on the bed before soaking onto the fabric. Shouta bites aggressively at your inner thigh, and you whine sharply and reach down to take his hair in your hands, tightly fisting your fingers in it as you needily tug his head toward your center. He just laughs and shakes you loose, slapping your thigh to usher a new cry from your lips before taking his thumb off of your clit so he can use his now free hand to slowly play with the sensitive bundle of nerves and focus his other hand entirely on fitting a third finger inside your sopping wet hole, watching greedily as your cunt swallows them up. 

You’re openly moaning now, sharp cries and whimpers falling from your lips as he curls his fingers and starts playing with an especially swollen, especially sensitive stretch of flesh inside that has you nearly writhing. You can’t stop yourself from rutting your hips up into his touch, however, when that free hand starts making hard, fast circles over your clit at the same time as his curled fingers piston in and out of your cunt at a brutal pace that has you wailing. “O-Oh god, Shouta, please!” You faintly hear him let out a breathless laugh, but you’re too busy gripping the sheets with one hand and your pillow with the other while thrusting your hips in time with each borderline violent press of his thick fingers inside that you barely even make note of it. 

“C’mon now, sweetheart, you’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?” he growls lowly, an excited glint in his eyes as the sounds of your cries changing in pitch signals that you’re about to cum all over his fingers. God, he wants to lap it up like a cat drinking milk; tasting you was always a favorite pastime. He rolls his hips against the mattress, grinding his aching cock between it and his hips and chokes down a shaky whine of his own as spikes of pleasure shoot through him. “Gonna cum for Daddy?”

“Yes! Yes! P-Please, Daddy, let me cum!” you beg shrilly, your entire body shaking. “Please, wanna cum, gotta cum, feels s’good-!”

Shouta knows that if he looked up at you he’d see little tears beginning to gather along your waterline, glittering in the low light like the most precious diamonds, and the thought has him groaning and grinding against the bed harder. “Y-Yeah,” he moans lowly, “Cum for Daddy, baby, cum for Daddy…”

Your cunt tightens around the three fingers he has buried inside you up to his palm, and he replaces his hand on your clit with his mouth, roughly sucking and lapping at it in a way that has you screeching. Your legs fly up to lock around his head and he lets them, enjoying the tight squeeze of both them and your cunt as you fall apart in his mouth and on his fingers.  “That’s right, sweetheart, just like that,” he moans into your pussy, licking up all of the shocks of wetness that had started dripping down his hand as you came. 

Above him, you’re in tatters, your entire body trembling in a seemingly never-ending spasm. Your eyes have rolled back, and you thoughtlessly clench your thighs around your boyfriend’s head as a means of keeping him in place, desperate to keep coming until you’re screaming.  “G-God, oh god — Fuck, Daddy, p-please-!”

Shouta groans into you like a drunken man into a half-empty bottle, and slowly eases up on the movements of his fingers as your thighs slowly loosen. He doesn’t stop circling your sensitive clit with his tongue, though, until you weakly push him away with one foot. Finally he comes up, though, hair wild and face from the nose down soaked in your cum. In the faint light from the television his chin shines, and your heart thumps heavily in your chest as he climbs up the bed as well as the length of your body before slotting himself between your legs, pressing his wet mouth against yours and initiating a heated kiss that leaves you own taste smeared across your lips and in your mouth. His stubble scratches across your cheeks and chin roughly, and you moan into his mouth from both the feeling as well as the feel of his tongue in your mouth. 

As the two of you kiss, you allow your hands to wander across his chest and shoulders and around his waist and back, feeling the way he rolled his hips against you and ground his hard cock against your messy cunt and loving it. With each rough rut the head of his cock caught on your clit and left you a moaning whore beneath him — as if he was much better in his place above you. 

“Lemme fuck you, please,” he begs weakly, rutting against you desperately, “Please, please — God, I wanna fuck you so fucking bad, sweetheart, please-!”

“Y-Yeah, fuck me!” You gasp, “N-Need it, Sho, need your cock!”

“Fuck yeah, gonna fuck you so good — God you’re so fuckin’ wet, so perfect…” Shouta rambles, fumbling with pressing his cock inside. Gone is the sadistic man who’d lain between your legs taking you apart, and in his place is a man who had already fallen apart at the promise of getting to force his cock inside.

Sitting up, you watch as he uses one trembling hand to press his cock against you, letting out a whimper when it pops inside. The following roll of his hips that buries his length to the base inside you has you letting out a shaky cry; you let your head fall back onto the pillows, your thighs trembling as you boyfriend pulls out then presses inside all over again, quickly building up a rhythm that has the headboard banging against your wall hard enough to have the decorations hanging on it start to shake. In the back of your mind you thank anyone listening that no one had moved into the apartment next to yours yet, and felt a little guilty for whoever would inevitably take up the space. 

“F-Fuck — oh god, Daddy, please-!” you whimper, letting out a shriek as a hand cracks across the fat of your tits, the sensitive flesh stinging sharply as tears spring up in your eyes, threatening to roll down your cheeks in a never-ending river showing off the pain and pleasure Shouta was putting you through. The feeling of his cock inside of you leaves you trembling, the heavy drag so fucking good and perfect. It leaves you so very full and pleased that when he roughly fucks against your cervix it punches a sharp gasp out of you, the feeling lmost too much alk at once. You cry out for him, a soaking mess, and he moans into the base of your throat as he keeps his quick pace steady and rough, using your cunt like the little hole of his to fuck that it is and seeking his own pleasure like a starving man does food. 

“Oh god, Sho, please!” you wail, tits shaking from each brutal roll of his hips. You throw one leg over his waist as he grunts into your throat, and he wraps an arm under it and hoists it over his shoulder, the position only serving to allow him to bully his cock even deeper inside than before. Tears spring up in your eyes as his head slams against yet again against your sensitive cervix, and you could almost swear that he’d have worked his way into your womb with how rough he was being if that had been possible. Unfortunately it wasn’t, and when he laughs at the fucked out expression on your face it just triggers full tears, which well up quickly in your eyes becore beginning tk roll down your cheeks and temples, fucking ul your makeuo in a way you know will drive him fucking crazy. 

“Th-That’s right baby, cry for Daddy!” Shouta moans, gazing down at the tears and mascara streaking down your face hungrily, “What a good fuckin’ girl, crying on that dick — feels that fuckin’ good, huh?” 

Your nails dig into his back, scratching near-bloody lines across his skin as you struggle to hold onto him; he growls with each deep scratch. “Y-Yeah!” you sob, trying to speak but unable to get much out as he practically destroys you. “F-Fuck, Daddy, c-can’t think — it’s too hard, too hard to th-think when you’re mixing up my insides-!” 

“You can take it,” he growls in response, eyes and hair wild as he starts losing himself to the pleasure. “You can fuckin’ take it, can fuckin’ take this cock — c’mon baby, you’re my good little whore, aren’t you? Gonna take this fat fuckin’ cock like a big girl and milk me dry?” 

You wail, completely overwhelmed in only the best way as that ever-familiar knot begins to tie itself up in your lower belly, nodding wordlessly as his thrusts just get rougher and rougher. Your jaw falls open from the pleasure, you eye crossing and eyelashes fluttering, and he spits a fat glob of spit onto your mouth and watches gleefully as you immediately swallow it down. His own eyes roll back at the sight coupled with the sudden feeling of your pussy starting to clench, and he moans out a low, “That’s it sweetheart, cum again for me — cum again for Daddy, cum on my cock!” and relishes the sharp sobs you let out, your pussy spasming around his thick lemgth nd your body shaking in his grip. You cling to him, desperate and needy, and he groans hard as his pace gets messy and loses fluidity as he gets closer and closer, then finally starts cumming. 

“Oh g-god, oh fuck-!” he gasps, squeezing his eyes shuts as he fucks intk you messily, filling you with rope after rope of thick heat until he’s left twitching weakly inside of you. He eases to a stop and the two of you lay tangled up like that for a moment before he carefully pulls out. A mixture of his cum amd yours pours out of your hoel, and the sight makes his spent cock twitch twice before he uses the same  fingers he’d used to stretch you open to press it back inside once, twice, then one more time, less coming out each time before he stands on shaky knees and starts slowly working his way to the side of the bed to walk to the bathroom that stops with your hand curled around his wrist. 

“S-Stay,” you whine plaintively, a soft pout on your face and tears still in your eyes. “Don’t go, stay.”

“I gotta clean us up, honey,” Shouta murmurs softly, eyes fond and warm, and he smiles slightly when you shake your head and deepen the pout. 

“No. Tomorrow.” Your voice leaves no room for argument. “Stay.”

With an affectionate sigh, Shouta nods. “Okay. Tomorrow,” he murmurs, getting back in bed with you. You both worm your way into comfortable positions under the blankets and slot yourselves together, content to cuddle until the two of you fell asleep and inevitably drifted to your previously appropriated sides of the bed. 

The television, still on, drones monotonously in the background as the two of you lay there together, some late night program that neither of you care about playing as you bask in a shared afterglow. Shouta loves moments like this; they’re always so soft and perfect in ways he never thought he’d get — and yet here you were. 

He snatches up the remote and changes the channel a few times before finally muttering to himself and turning it off completely. His stomach grumbles a little, and he considers running to the kitchen for his food, but decides against it until you gently prod him away. 

“Go eat,” you mumble, having heard his stomach. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”

He huffs out yet another fond laugh and pads into the kitchen, followed swiftly by Tofu, who had long since disappeared from the bedroom when their ‘activities’ had started. He grabs a fork while passing the silverware drawer then  reaches the fridge and opens it, searching through it lazily for a moment before finding his containers of takeout and snatching one up, digging into the chicken pasta hungrily. Several sharp pricks tickle against either side of his left ankle, and he nearly drops the container at the slightly painful feeling before looking down. 

“Tofu, you fucking bastard, let go of my fucking ankle!” he hisses, and the cat looks up at him through wide eyes for a second before turning and biting the back of his ankle hard. “You fuckin’— get off, you little shit!” The cat just growls around its mouthful of his Achilles tendon, and Shouta shakes his leg a little to try and loosen it to no avail, ultimately tossing his food back in the fridge after shoving several more bites in his mouth so he can reach down and snatch up the furry attacker. The cat writhes in his grip, but Shouta refuses to let go and eventually the tiny bastard goes limo in acceptance, and Shouta gets to go back to his food. The cat swipes at a thick piece of chicken, but Shouta puts the fork out of reach just in time. “No fuckin’ way; maybe if you’d not been a little asshole you could have had some, but you decided to be a little shit and bite me. No chicken for you, and I’m telling Mom.”

The cat meows plaintively, and Shouta shakes his head. “Nope, face the consequences of your actions and suffer.” A screech from the cat gets no response, and Shouta quickly finished up his pasta before tossing the box in the trash and closing the fridge; he had more food, but he wasn’t hungry enough to eat them right now, so they could wait until tomorrow. 

He pads back into the bedroom, finding his sleepy girlfriend scrolling through her phone through half lidded eyes. He drops the cat onto the bed and it sprints to her, curling up at her hip on her side of the bed, and he says deadpan, “Your little monster ambushed me.”

You scoff playfully, picking Tofu uo by the armpits and shaking him ever so slightly. “Tofu would never, he’s just a baby,” you purr, laughing a little as he bats at your face with nothing but fluff — a literal sharp contrast to how he’d dug his claws and teeth into Shouta in the kitchen. 

“He’s got you completely fooled, I can’t believe it,” Shouta says, shaking his head and smiling as he climbs into bed next to you. You press close, craving the feeling of his skin against yours, and he worms around until he’s comfortable. A simple silence falls between the two of you, Shouta melting into the mattress just like he’d craved since the night had started.

You’re the one to break the silence. 

“I hate her,” you mumble quietly, drawing invisible pictures on his bare chest with your index finger. You hear him hum in acknowledgment beneath you, then one of those big hands cups the back of your head. 

“I know you do,” is his reply, and you sniff a little and nuzzle closer to him. 

“It isn’t fair,” you pout. “She gets to put her hands all over you even though you don’t like it and no one bats an eye, even when you ask her to stop.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he croons softly, trying to calm you down from the inevitable fit you would have, but this doesn't comfort you. “I have you to make it all better.”

You push yourself up some so you can look at him, your lip jutting out in a vicious pout that he’d already heard in your voice. “You shouldn’t have to handle it, Shouta,” you say seriously. “She should fucking listen when you say no.”

Shouta just nods. “I agree,” he replies gently. “But she won’t change. We both know that.”

You shrug. “Then she’ll die,” you say simply, eyes dark and filling with the beginnings of bloodlust. Shouta hums a little yet again and seemingly ponders this, then nods again. 

“…Hmm. If that’s what you want, it’s fine by me,” he says simply, clutching you tightly. You scoff. 

“I wasn’t asking permission.”

“I wasn’t giving it,” he replies, recognizing the teasing tone. He presses back into the mattress with a sigh and allows all the tension to leave his body, relaxing into the bed he shared with you. You nuzzle against him again, and he hums happily at the contact and closes his eyes as the smoky edges of sleep flicker around in his mind. He can feel one of your hands playing with his hair, your fingers running through it and gently working out the knots. 

God, he was exhausted. 

“Sleep, Sho,” you murmur softly, pressing one hand to his cheek. He smiles faintly and leans into your touch as you smile back at him tenderly, and everything fades into a blissful silence. 

A weight on his chest and a soft paw slapping his nose is what rouses Shouta from the deep sleep he’d been in, and he blearily opens his eyes to the sight of Tofu sitting on him smacking him across the face — just like every morning. 

Who needs an alarm clock when you have a cat?

Shouta groans and sits up, stretching and ignoring the annoyed mrrp! his cat lets out when forced to hop down. Glancing to your side of the bed, he smiles softly at the sight of you with wild hair and drool dripping down your chin with one hand thrown over your head, and he leans down and nuzzles you affectionately. You hum softly and slowly blink awake, your first sight of the day being him bumping his nose against yours. 

You grin. “Hi,” you whisper, and he grins back. 

“Hi,” he murmurs, and you giggle. You glance at the clock and then smile eagerly, a sudden lusty look in your eye. 

“Think we could have a quickie this morning before you go to class, Sensei?” you purr, and he groans and lets his head thump against your shoulder, closing his eyes. 

“If you were anyone else, that wouldn’t have been so fucking sexy,” he mumbles, and you giggle before pressing a quick series of kisses to his stubbly jaw. 

“Well, Sensei?” you ask playfully, and he looks at you with dark eyes. “Aren’t you going to teach me a lesson?”

He grins wickedly and doesn’t respond, instead jumping you and pressing you into the mattress. You accidentally let out a gleeful shriek as he begins to lave open-mouthed kisses across your skin, suckling at your skin long enough to leave marks alongside the bruises from last night. 

He pulls away, lips slightly swollen, and locks eyes with you, smiling breathlessly. “I’m gonna take you apart,” he says proudly, and over the next hour he does just that before padding off into the bathroom for another shower, leaving you spread out on the bed with a racing heart. Your entire body feels like a bowl of mush, and as the sounds of him showering in the bathroom reach your ears you groan, forcing yourself to move. You’d wanted to make him a bento this morning, and you damn well were going to. 

It’s done by the time he leaves the bedroom, fully dressed in his hero uniform, and you’re resting on the sectional with Tofu dozing on your lap and one of your several computers on hand. Shouta doesn’t want to know what you’re looking at so excitedly and pointedly ignores the screen as he dips down and catches your lips with his, kissing you deeply. 

“I’ll see you tonight, I don’t have patrol tonight,” he mumbles against your lips before kissing you again. You smile softly and nod. 

“Okay hun. Oh, and don’t forget your lunch on the kitchen counter!” youncall, and he grunts a response. He heads to the kitchen and grabs his keys and a coat as well as his capture weapon, and during all of this Tofu wakes up. The cat darts off of your lap and into your kitchen and then, judging from the choked screech your boyfriend lets out, proceeds to jump the man and start biting. 

“Fucking why, Tofu?!”

You giggle softly and call the cat, and the little menace bounces back to you as if he’d not done anything wrong, curling up in your lap and starting to purr happily. Shouta grumbles the entire way out the door, and then he’s leaving, and you’re still giggling. Hizashi was at the door, ready to grab breakfast with Shouta as expected, and he calls out a quick greeting and says ‘hello’ to Tofu before setting out with your boyfriend, letting the house fall silent. 

You grin and get back to work. 

Hours later you’re hungry, so you put your… less than legal work to the side and head to the kitchen, leaving Tofu asleep on the couch. As you go in, you pause, glancing at the end of the corner of the kitchen counter where the bento you’d made Shouta sits. At first you’re annoyed, but then you grin; he must have put it down in the struggle for his life when he went head on against the cat. 

Grabbing a pretty pink and white handkerchief, you wrap the large box up so you can hold it by handkerchief loops and begin making your way to U.A. School, buying yourself lunch along the way ( Because honestly? You deserved it. ). It takes around an hour, but eventually you make it, and after a few more minutes you manage to weasel your way inside and begin your trek through the halls to Class 1-A’s room. 

Ahead of you is a familiar white bundle of fur wrapped up in a small suit, and you giggle softly to yourself.  “Hello, Nedzu!” you greet brightly through a grin that mimicked a shark's predatory smile. The stoat ahead of you freezes, then turns quickly and responds in kind, his small black eyes shining darkly as the two of you — a frequent pair online when it came to tearing down certain aspects of hero society — coem to meet in the hallway. 

“Hello! What brings you to U.A. today?” he asks kindly, walking beside you as you continue on your way,  and you laugh genuinely. 

“Shouta forgot his lunch at home, I was just bringing it to him,” you explain with ease, and he nods. 

“Oh, how kind!” he replies, and smiles again while narrowing his eyes. “Though next time we will have to get you a security access card; it won’t do to have unannounced guests slipping in and out of the school!” Though the two of you could be considered ‘friends’, the slight warning was clear; while he wasn’t upset with you for coming in, he’d have preferred to not have a weakness in security that you could take advantage of enough to enter the school undetected.

Oh well. He’d patch the ‘hole’ and you’d find a new way to worm yourself in until the security system was sl tightly woven a drop of water couldn’t seep through. That was the entire purpose of this game, after all. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” is the only response you give, and it seems to please him enough. The rest of your walk to Shouta’s classroom is spent in interesting conversation, various subjects coming and going until finally you reach the classroom door. 

“Well, this is your stop!” Nedzu says brightly. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“Thank you!” you call kindly as he disappears around a corner, and you knock then enter. 

All eyes lock on you as you come in, and out of all of them the only ones that don’t shine with confusion are your boyfriend’s. He stands from his chair and strides over to you quickly, an eyebrow raised, and growls quietly in a tone many ( but not you ) would consider harsh, “Now you know damn well you aren't supposed to come here — do you realize how many people there are here who could identify you?” 

You just smile brightly. “You left your bento on the kitchen counter!” you say, and he pauses for a moment and looks down at the pink bundle. 

“…Oh,” he mumbles simply, then nods. “Thank you, then.”

“You’re welcome,” you smile, and he turns to put it on the desk then pauses. You tilt your head to the side curiously, still ignoring the twenty pairs of eyes on the pair of you, as he turns around. 

“How the hell did you get in?” Shouta asks, both curious and confused, but you just giggle and give him a quick, soft kiss on the lips. 

“That’s a secret for me and Nedzu to know, honey,” you say sweetly, then disappear out the door. Aizawa stares after you, then sighs. 

“Well fuck,” he mutters. “That’s a match made in hell; god, why did I introduce those two to each other?” He turns and faces the sea of children he’d momentarily forgotten he had, and freezes. For a moment he fears they’ve recognized her, but then he registers that all twenty of his stupid children are grinning like the little devil spawns they are, and he fights off the urge to groan. “Why me, god?”

“Aizawa-Sensei has a girlfriend!” Ashido shrieks excitedly, and his entire Hell Class devolves into excited banter and rambling, endless questions pouring his way from all twenty, even the handful he trusted to be the quiet ones. 

“Why didn’t you tell us about your girlfriend, Sensei?!” Ashido asks, mimicked afterwards by nearly twenty voices. 

“Is she our new mom?” Kaminari asks, glancing at Kirishima through a grin that was brightly returned. The entire class giggles at the question. 

“Sensei has a girlfriend! Sensei has a girlfriend!” comes a random cheer from seemingly nowhere, likely Hagakure, and Shouta collapses into his chair with his face buried into his hands as twenty voices pummel him with question after question and the shrieks never end. 

“This. This is why I never told you,” he grumbles in response to Ashido, and the entire class devolves into more giggles and talking. Shouta sighs; it was only Monday. 

This was panning out to be a long week. 

𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © { 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 } 𝐛𝐲 𝟒𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.

[call-sign-shark]

Day 1: Breathe With Me || Tommy Shelby x Reader

Requested by @runnning-outof-time 🖤

TW: Kinktober prompt- Breathe, rough sex, piv, choking, strangulation, breathe play, unprotected sex, unhealthy relationship, abuse of power, mention of canonical violence

Words: 1K

Notes: Here is the first work of the Peaky Kinktober Event you can find here. Comment on the event post if you want to be tagged in the future works for Kinktober.

“Breathe with me.”

The way his hoarse voice, rendered even more raspy by the pleasure he experienced, whispered these specific three words in your ear fanned the flames of your desire.

With your breath hitching and your whole body burning, you could not help but whine and wiggle under the weight of his body. Tommy’s calloused fingers loosened their grip on your neck in the hope it would make your breath slow down but it didn’t work. You were still a panting mess with eyes closed and pearls of tears caught in your long lashes.

“T-Tommy…” You stuttered, moving your hips back without really noticing. His free hand slipped under you and, without the slightest warning, he brought them close again, with a frustrated hiss. As he did, his hard and swollen cock stretched your walls until the tip hit you in the right spot. Your toes curled in your heels at the electric sensation crossing through your body and it made your legs shook from each sides of his waist. “Aah, Tom!” You lamented, throwing your head back.

“You don’t get to call me like this, Y/N.” His voice snapped, firmer this time, and you could not help but obey. When his dizzying turquoise eyes met yours, the infamous gangster’s lips split with a satisfied smirk, “Good girl, you’re a good girl right?” Words melt on his tongue, “so nice and sweet she’s letting her dad’s boss fuck her ay.” He whispered with a wicked grin as he slowly started to move his hips again now that you had adjusted to his size. Your trembling fingers reached for the back of his head and lost themselves in his dark hair in search for any way of expressing the overwhelming pleasure he gave you.

It was the second time you ended up like this today, sitting on his desk with your lace panties hanging from one of your ankles and your legs open for Mr.Shelby. The second time he unbuckled his belt and thrusted into you after he had rubbed his length against your wet slit while your dad was working downstairs in the factory, unaware of everything that has been going on between the two of you.

Tommy gritted his teeth, his slow movements increasingly faster each time you clenched your throbbing and soaked pussy around him— it felt so good, so tight, so right. “Let’s try again, alright babydoll? Let’s try again and breathe with me.” He growled, cold blue eyes relishing how the pleasure marked your face and how your trembling lips always tried to kiss him in a vain attempt to muffle your shameful moans. You nodded, one crystal tear rolling down your cheek, and moved your hips in rhythm with him in the sensual dance of lovemaking. A pile of paper fell from the desk and scattered on the office floor but Tommy couldn’t care less. How could he when he was busy filling your innocent pussy and wrapping his large hand around your throat? “See, you can do it ey.” He praised, his palm pressing slightly more until breathing became challenging but not exactly painful. Tommy knew far too well what he was doing and to what kind of limits he wanted to take you. After all, you had lost your virginity to him only a few days ago, on his same desk, thus he took it easy. You still needed more of taming before he could use you like he really wanted.

The reason behind your submission was that you wanted to save your father from being killed by a Peaky Blinders following the strike that resulted in Arthur’s murder attempt. The latter had been so enraged that he threatened to bash your father’s head with a hammer — he would have probably done so if Tommy hadn’t intervened. So when you begged for his life in his office ten minutes later, he asked for your age, if you had already been filled by a man before, and at your negative answer, he simply ordered you to take your clothes off right here, right now. That was how this sick game between you and Tommy had started. A game he definitely enjoyed, judging by how his gaze was always wandering all over your body, almost burning you every time your paths would cross in the factory.

My brother wants to see ya right now, cherry pie hm. You better not make him wait eh. Arthur had told you one hour ago, his mustache slightly lifting when he punctuated his sentence with a sadistic smirk, knowing what was awaiting you.

“Sir…” You begged, your voice strangled in your throat as Tommy’s hand choked you. Taking quick and shallow exhales, your heart soon began to drum fast again in your chest due to panic but this time, the gangster didn’t stop. Instead, he gave you one meaner thrust to make you squeal, enjoying the sight of your teary eyes, your gaping mouth, and your reddened cheeks. You looked so weak… So defenseless. But what got him was when he felt your wetness running down his shaft despite your frightened look.

“Breathe with me.” He ordered, but his raspy voice had a softer tone. As he fucked you at the perfect pace, invading your needy but inexperienced pussy, he pressed his forehead against yours and locked you in a stare, “Don’t give in to the panic and just focus on two things: my breathing and the sensation of me cock.” He hummed, his grin fading away and replaced by a serious face. You let out a loud exhale and tried. At first, you did your best to obliterate the way his strong grip was obstructing your windpipe to only focus on the sensations of fucking itself. Each time he pulled out, a feeling of devastating emptiness woke up in you and left you craving for him to go back inside. No matter how ashamed you were of getting used by your dad’s boss like a whore, Thomas Shelby knew how to fill you and you were starting to love it. To need it.

Soon you came to naturally focus on his breathing. One slow inhale. One slow and longer exhale. Deep. Controlled. Comforting. “Breathe in.” His Brummie accent hypnotized you and his musky, expensive perfume made your head spin. You moaned louder — Dad would have heard you if he had been walking near Tommy’s office. “Breathe out.” Your breath melted together and suddenly, the panic of getting choked turned into an arousing experience. His fingers, strong and possessive, were pressing on each side of your throat, right under your jaw where he could feel your heartbeat against his skin. You rolled your eyes in the back of your head, the press of his palm and the lack of air sending your mind into a blissful haze. “Yes, Y/N. Just like this. I’m proud of you eh, my little pet.” He grunted, sinking deeper into your delicate intimacy, “Y/N.” Tommy’s husky voice moaned again and again, chanting your name as if he wanted all the employees of his freaking factory to know what he was doing to you in his office when your dad was working in the basement. As if he wanted them to know what had happened to you the moment they saw your staggering frame leaving his office disheveled and legs closely pressed together because of his cum running down the inside of your thighs.

I’m breathing with you, Mr. Shelby.

We’re breathing together and now

We are one.

Now you could dissect all the delicious cocktail of sensations you were undergoing: your tight pussy forced open, your walls throbbing, a mix of your wetness and his cum leaking from you and dripping on the wooden desk… You reopened your teary eyes, drowning in the cold cerulean blue of his enchanting iris, and parted your lips to talk, barely believing what you were about to say.

“Harder.”

If you have appreciated what you've just read please take the time to reblog and/or comment. Your reactions are the real fuel and motivation of writers.

tags: @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @mollybegger-blog @hwangrimi @munson24 @tommyshelbywhore

[pspaura27-blog]

Uncle Sukuna!

Feat. Teacher!

After his graduation, Yaga asks if he wants to be a teacher, citing that he is strong and all, but Yaga actually prays that Sukuna will get a bratty student so he can suffer, too.

Sukuna doesn’t want to live in Sendai, Jin’s PDA with the damn woman and all, so he agrees.

Then, he meets his Karma, the triple S: Satoru, Suguru, Shoko. Urgh.

He is late 3 minutes to the first homeroom class and Gojo breaks the window in a damn fight with Geto.

“Now, who the fuck did that?!”

“Sensei, I—”

“Fuck, you know what? I don’t give a shit, go run laps, all of you brats!”

Gojo Satoru is very bratty, confident in his own strength, and he likes to flip Sukuna off. So, the two duel it out in the training ground.

Sukuna is old and he also wins(?) in canon, so he knocks Satoru to the ground and mocks him.

“Ha! So this is all the Six Eyes holder can do, huh? I guess you are fucking overrated, brat. Now, get your ass up and go do the fucking report!”

He regrets it later when Satoru wouldn’t leave him alone, determined to win against him one way or another.

Satoru seems like the type to knock his room at 3 in the morning for a round.

And he has to clean up after their mess.

The Star Plasma in particular. Sukuna knows it. Geto Suguru is as fucking reckless as his buddy, that’s a fucking apartment he blows up! And who deals with paperworks and those fucking elders? Him!

[[Sensei, it wasn’t me—]]

[[I’ll chop you into damn pieces, brat! Better be prepare for an F!]]

God, does this mean he fight with Toji?!

Sukuna is waiting at the gate for his students to return with Riko. Then, he lets Gojo get stabbed because—

“You didn’t see that, huh? That’s pathetic. You better train harder if you wanna call yourself the strongest.” Sukuna scoffs and throws him to Geto. “Get out of my way, brat.”

“…” Riko thinks she knows where Gojo gets his attitude from!

After wrecking buildings, Sukuna wins and gets Megumi..?

He feels his veins throb, does he look like a charity person or something? Hello, he even has a face tattoo! Take care of your own damn brat because he will not do that!

Probably heals Toji so he doesn’t have to take Megumi.

“Our teacher might look like that but he is a softie.” Suguru smiles softly. “When he told us about this mission, he said that—”

“Do it, brats, if you’re so weak that you need another brat to protect you. I dare you!”

“And the elders—”

“I don’t take order from those weaker than me.”

“Oh, I didn’t— expect that.”

Suguru hums. “He likes kids, actually.”

Sukuna goes to visit his bratty nephew that month. Yuuji is 3 but he runs to tackle his leg like a little octopus.

“Un-cal Kuna!” Yuuji squeals. “Whoa, me misses you s’a lot! Kuna, you bwing me owange candies?”

“Are you missing me or candies, brat?”

He grumbles but still pulls out a bag of orange candies for his toddler nephew. He doesn’t spoil the brat. He just doesn’t want to listen to him complaining.

“Oh, dear, how are you here?” Kaori walks out to greet him with a surprised smile. “I thought our elders fried you alive by now. It was Master Tengen after all.”

“Like those wrinkle bastard can do anything to me.”

That star brat is, like, 10 years older than Yuuji. Deep down, he thinks it’s just wrong, it could have been Yuuji, but he will never admit it.

Yuuji chews on his candy, mumbling a new word under his breath. “Bash-tard.”

“Don’t repeat that, brat!”

[m1d-45]

duality of man

summary: foul legacy only bends to childe’s will, he isn’t fully controlled by him.

a/n: foul legacy speaks in bold, childe speaks italicized. internal/mental speech is quoted ‘like this’ rather than simply italicized for the sake of childe, as tumblr does not have underline capabilities :/

word count: ~2.1k

-> warnings: spoilers for childe lore / liyue archon quest, childe is his own warning (and is frequently bloodthirsty and strange), violence and gore, it/it’s pronouns for foul legacy because it’s childe’s pov and also i said so, imposter sagau things. technically isn’t 100% canon compliant according to wikipedia.

-> lowercase intended!

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky

childe stalked through the forest, the foliage tinted by foul legacy’s vision. this form wasn’t the best for stealth, but it would help him find you faster.

he could hear your heavy breathing from the corner you backed yourself into, and grinned.

“surrender is a valid option,” he purred, voice warped and distorted through the heavy mask. your breath hitched, and his smile only grew. he had you. all he had to do was reach, reach with the clawed hands of his abyssal form and drag you out of wherever you’d hidden and he’d earn his place at his gods side. to be the one to find and kill you was an honor, one he was not keen on giving up.

he could imagine it now. dragging you along with his claws sunk deep into your neck, whatever blood left in your body staining his hands. your corpse would fall, lifeless, at his god’s feet, and he’d be the one to reap the rewards of their love.

you would not escape. he would not leave empty-handed.

he couldn’t.

childe tried to reach for the bush you were hiding behind, but his arm wouldn’t move.

no, not his arm, he realized. it was disobeying.

‘what are you doing?’ he hissed into his mind, pushing with all his might. still, the arm of foul legacy wouldn’t move. it was strange; it had never disobeyed before, and aside from the initial period to get used to piloting a body, he’s never had any issues.

‘i cannot allow you to kill them.’

‘what? why? if you want to have a hand in it, i’ll let you have a while to-‘

‘no. they are not to die.’

his arms moved of their own will, moving aside the branches much slower than he would have.

‘i refuse to allow the death of the one who made me.’

what?

the leaves eventually reveal you, tucked in as small a space as you can manage, holding a broken-off spearhead. your clothes are tattered, leaves caught within the creases. your hand is shaking so badly childe doubts you could hurt anybody but yourself with it.

your mouth opens like you want to say something, but nothing comes out. a thrill runs down childe’s spine at the fact that they’ve scared you from words, but it’s quickly overrun by the concern coming from foul legacy.

wait… concern?

“your grace… how ruined you have become.”

your eyes flick between the pearl of its eye and the hand, likely trying to decide which is a better target, and childe wants to laugh. he wants to urge you to strike, to watch as you fruitlessly spend your energy bashing that spearhead into foul legacy’s armor, blunting the steel against it.

the devouring deep doesn’t let him speak.

“please… i’m sorry.”

normally, hearing somebody beg for their life would make childe’s day, week if they do it prettily enough, but this… some part of his heart, as beaten and rotted it is, hurts.

whatever sadness he feels quickly burns into rage. what right did foul legacy have over his emotions? making him pity this imposter, as if you weren’t fit to die the moment your treacherous tongue claimed you were somebody you weren’t.

“i know, i know.” legacy’s claw extends and you flinch, feet kicking up dirt as you press yourself further against whatever rock you’re against.

“stay away from me!”

foul legacy hums a low note, and childe wants to scream as his hand falls to the dirt. what power did you have over it? why didn’t it just take whatever it was it wanted from you?

‘why are you hesitating?’

‘you wouldn’t understand.’

the first sensible thing it’s said. he didn’t understand.

“it is alright. i am not the one you fear.“

“yes you are! i… i know you, childe.”

childe allowed himself a smile. no matter how much foul legacy pushed aside his commands, it would always have to deal with his reputation. the fact that he disrupted its plans just as it did his brought him a little joy from the situation.

“i am not him, leading light. please… do not be afraid.”

‘leading light’?

childe had heard many names and titles for the divine creator in his time, and knew that that one in particular was favored by abyssal creatures. he’d heard it shouted and screamed, people slaughtered in the name of the light that they claim leads them from the abyss. he even adopted it himself, at one point, for the first few years after he was freed from it himself. he’d killed with the title on his tongue, and ripped out others’ that dared to dirty it.

all of this to say that foul legacy was claiming you were the divine creator.

you. you.

you, who dared to walk with a face that wasn’t yours, to gaze with eyes that didn’t belong to you. you.

he could admit that he didn’t sense the aura of the creator—with a bitter, sour tongue, but admitted nonetheless—due to his time spent in the abyss. his soul was too rotten to resonate with theirs, only able to find solidarity in their violent retribution cast down on those that dared cross them. he acknowledged that he was beyond saving, that even the highest of the high could barely begin to fill the gaping maw of the abyss inside of him. he’d… not accepted, but come to terms with it.

but even he did not dare to call another by their name.

“you’re… you’re what?”

“i can hear him.” foul legacy’s hand extended once more, slower, gentler, with much more care than any other action childe had seen from it. “he is in my mind, but we are not the same. i can promise, while i am here, no harm will come to you.”

you didn’t trust it. good, as childe was starting to distrust foul legacy as well.

“you… you’re saying you’re…?” the spearhead in your hand lowered, some of the fear—regrettably—fading from your eyes. recognition flooded instead, and childe was confused as to how you found comfort in a creature of the abyss. he knew he had a reputation, one stained with violence and blood, and surely that would extend to it as well, right? foul legacy… it couldn’t be more trustworthy than him.

“i am his foul legacy. i am the devouring deep.”

its clawed hand finally reached yours, and you let it close around your wrist even as hesitation shone in your eyes. your lips parted, but whatever you had to say died before it spoke again. “please… can you find it in your heart to trust once more? if only for me, if only for a moment?”

childe tried once more to take over the form, and was again met with the stone of foul legacy’s will. he huffed; it shouldn’t be getting this close to you, and he shouldn’t have to watch as it did. it shouldn’t have even disobeyed in the first place.

“why don’t you hate me?”

foul legacy sighed, the sound warped and roughened by its mask. “this world- no, these people are fools. do not hold the mistakes of the many in your heart. they do not understand the weight of their actions. they are being pushed, puppetted by another.”

‘what are you talking about?’

‘hold your tongue.’

childe was in shock. first it went against him by taking over his actions, then it claimed you were the sacred creator, then told him to shut up?

you were sitting up, carefully daring to come closer, and childe beat at the boundaries of his will with all his strength. he couldn’t let this go on any longer. he could take being disobeyed, he could take his anger out on some innocents with its hand once it was tired enough to give him control, but for it to disrespect his god?

he could not- he would not let that go so easily.

childe pushed at his arm with all his might as foul legacy sat itself on the floor, tugging you closer. he sent the command to move at least a thousand times, begging his own hand to squeeze, to snap the bones in your wrist, to show any sign that he still had control in this body.

the most he got was a twitch of the ring finger.

he refused to allow foul legacy to take him over like this. he could not let it shatter his reputation and attack his beliefs like this. it could not say that you were his god, it could not say that it was in control, it could not say that childe was wrong. it should not hold you will claws that should kill, and you should not gaze so deeply into the pearl of a monster’s eye.

it was almost as if you could see him within it, your searching eyes piercing right into his. he hoped you could, that you could see how much he hated the situation he found himself in. how much he hated you, you for warping his foul legacy’s mind, you for making it think you were it’s god.

“how long do i have?”

“hm?”

“before he comes back.”

childe tried again to assert his presence. he failed.

you shifted closer to foul legacy, sitting against its side. part of childe wanted to laugh at you, at the fact that you dared to lean on a creature of the abyss. part of him wanted to sneer and call you pathetic for it.

the same part that knew it was fruitless even as he tried to follow through on it.

foul legacy put its arm around you, pulling you into its side. the glass of its eye bumped against the top of your head, words of reassurance buzzing in its head.

childe huffed to himself, feeling his anger start to bubble again. there was no reason for this behavior. there was no reason for foul legacy to try and influence him by bleeding their thoughts together, nor for it to subject him to this. even it should recognize the creator, even if by context clues from the people around it.

and if this was all a trick, childe could accept it. if foul legacy had whispered into his mind, told him that yes, it knew, it believed, then he could tolerate the attacks against his god. he could bite back his words and let legacy do what he did best: follow orders.

if this was a ploy, childe would be fine. but foul legacy’s claws never dug into your side, and the whispers it spoke were not of retribution, but of reverence. how he wished it would just obey, even if not his orders but theirs.

follow the orders of the true god, who was in their palace, waiting for their trusted followers to capture and kill you. sitting, waiting for your corpse to be tossed at their feet, waiting for their loyal followers to carry out their word. the true creator, their god, not you. not you, not any other fake that dared to imitate them, and not those that behaved as foul legacy did here, following the impersonators and claiming they were real.

foul legacy hissed in his mind. ‘still your traitorous tongue.’

‘i won’t! if you took a moment to even think-’

‘and if you paused to allow yourself to do the same, you would agree.’

he did think, he had plenty of time to think when foul legacy was- was almost cuddling you, the warp of its voice doing nothing to mask the affection within it. he can’t move, he cant take control, and it has the gall to say he should think? all he’s able to do is think! he could sit here for an eternity, listening to the quiet rumble of legacy’s voice, mulling over every action he has or could taken, and he still wouldn’t be convinced. he wouldn’t agree. all he would be is sore, tired, and angry.

and of all the ways he could spend his time… he could fight for eternity, he could hit at the boundary between their brains with mental fists that never tired, he could give himself a headache with how hard he tried to dig his hand into your side. he could plan out his revenge against foul legacy, he could start to draft the prayer of repentance he’d surely have to raise to his god, he could do so much and yet precious little.

and that beast wanted him to think?

inside a body that wasn’t his, childe screamed.

[maybege]

What If - Part Two

Summary: Your alpha invites you to spend the night with him.

Pairing: alpha!Paz Vizsla x omega!fem!Reader

Wordcount: 6.5k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, explicit sexual content, size kink (Paz is big-big), finger sucking (again lol), oral fixation maybe, oral sex (f receiving), use of a blindfold, crying during sex (the good kind!), overstimulation (a little?), unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk and loving verbal humiliation,

Happy Weekend! If you follow me on tumblr, you might already know that I had to split Part 2 into two due to its size (pun intended), so this is technically Part 2.1 and basically just porn, so beware. I really enjoyed reading your comments both on Tumblr and AO3 and I am looking forward to seeing your reactions to this part, too! (Also I promise the comment reblogs on tumblr are coming, I just need to recover from TTPD).

Again: Just a little reminder, that this is not strictly adhering to canon and I am just roughly imagining what actually happened during these episodes.

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

Considering how intimately you had gotten to know Paz Vizsla, you were surprised by how nervous you were about the thought of seeing him again.

The next day had you feeling skittish, even feeling a little uneasy. You knew that the clans were going into negotiations. Though they called it strategy meetings, everybody who could think two steps ahead knew that this was the first hurdle when it came to the clans working together.

Briggs had been tense at the first meal of the day, already suspecting that it would end in a debacle and now here you were, helping to take an inter-clan inventory of supplies for when worst came to worst.

Until a giant shadow fell over you.

“Calm me.”

“What?” you looked up at the armoured alpha, the one you had not seen at all this morning.

“Calm me,” he repeated and you saw how his gloved hands had clenched into fists, “I am this close to bashing that di’kut’s head in and I am not sure how beneficial that would be for our inter-clan relations.“

You smiled, somehow doubting that he was truly considering violence against Axe Woves (because there was no question he was talking about him) but, as his calmer, it was your duty to take all hints seriously. And if this wasn’t a hint, then you did not know what was.

“I can’t just,” you paused, searching for the proper words since the foundlings were not too far away, “calm you out here in the open.”

Paz tilted his head. “Calming isn’t about the sex, love, it's about the scent,” he grunted before tugging his scarf down. “I am asking you to scent me.”

Somehow that kind of request made you even more nervous. You had not seen his skin the day before but now the sliver of tan that was revealed to you made your heart skip a beat. You stepped against him, ignoring your shaking hands as you stood on your tiptoes and ran your nose over his neck.

Breathing in his scent, you found he smelled just as good as he did last night, of spice and smoke and something woodsy that made you want to close your eyes and think of spending a day between the trees. You repeated the movement, your nose brushing against the spot just under his ear and he groaned. The sound, low and deep, made you tremble.

Faintly, you could feel him shift until his hand landed on your lower back and pulled you closer. His skin was hot, heated by the fabric and you closed your eyes. You stood so close to him you felt engulfed by his presence, by his scent. Forgotten was the inventory, forgotten were the meetings you were supposed to attend today. All you wanted to do was to scent him, to coax his scarf down just a little more, to see if you could feel any stubble on his jaw or maybe even a beard.

“Stars, ‘mega,” you heard him growl, his voice so close to your ear it sent a rush of need through you.  

When you pulled away you felt intoxicated, a little less inhibited. Paz smelled so much better now that he had a hint of you on him, you found, and you made a mental note to keep up this scenting practice for as long as he would let you.

“So … no sex then,” you concluded, trying to keep your sadness out of your voice. But of course, the man in front of you caught it like he seemed to catch everything about you.

“Disappointed?”

You avoided his visor, hoping that he could not see the way you tried to squeeze your thighs together.

“I keep thinking about last night,” he revealed, “Keep thinking about how tight you gripped me, how you opened up for me, how you looked sitting on my cock. Did you think about it?”

You nodded. “I did.”

“Hm,” he replied, “And what did you like about it, omega? What do you like about me?”

“I like how much bigger you are,” you confessed in a whisper, “I wondered …”

“Wondered what?” he asked, his hand pulling you closer, “Tell me, omega.”

“I wondered what it would be like to be underneath you,” you continued, your cheeks burning in embarrassment.

His thumb rubbed over the inside of your wrist, scenting you, “Did anyone ever take you from behind?”

Your silence was answer enough.

“Here is what we are going to do,” he rumbled, then, “You are coming to my bunk tonight. You will bring nothing but your softest robe, your favourite snack. I want you naked when I arrive, understand? Naked and waiting for me. I will put a blindfold on you, and then I am going to put my mouth on that little pussy of yours. How's that sound?”

“Good.”

“That is what I like to hear. And after I made you come on my tongue, I am going to position you just like this.” He turned you around, your back to his chest, “You will be flat on your belly, little one, I will spread your legs and then I am going to fuck you from behind until all you can say is my name.”

Your breathing picked up, heart rate as well. Felt your pussy weep at his words and even though he wore his helmet, your head lolled to the side, enabling him to scent you if he could.

“Will you …”

“Will I what?”

“Will you come inside me again?”

“Do you want me to?”

Nodded, embarrassed but nodded. He chuckled, low and dark, his finger tipping your chin up, “Then I will, sweet omega. I will come inside you. If you stay the night, I might just put you on my cock and come inside you again sometime during the night, fill you up real good. Would you like that?”

“Stars yes.”

*

You could not focus the rest of the day, your thoughts plagued by a large blue figure.

You were so flustered, in fact, that Chants kept asking you what was wrong and you were not brave enough to tell him. Until you looked at Paz one too many times and your best friend put two and two together.

“I didn’t see you last night after the fire,” he noted, his voice way too innocent for your liking, “How was it? Do you like the alpha you are paired with? What was his name again – Wizz… Wizz-something?”

“Vizsla,” you corrected him before you knew better, “Paz Vizsla.”

By now, you knew your friend long enough to know when he was teasing you. And the twinkle in his eyes told you that Chants was in teasing mode. “He is quite big, isn’t he?”

You swallowed, trying to focus on the bandages you were rolling up. “Yeah, he is.”

“Is he big … everywhere?”

“Chants!”

“What?” he laughed, avoiding the bundled-up wool that flew his way, “A friend can ask. “

“How about you tell me how it is going with Djarin?”

“Oh we are doing just fine,” he chirped, winking at you, “Though I spend my night in my own bunk.”

“I was in my own bunk, too,” you protested, hoping he did not notice how flustered you were.

“Yeah, after your alpha brought you home,” he replied easily, counting a stack of jars, “And left his cape for you.”

“He smells good …”

“Oh no doubt,” he smirked, “And what was this morning about, then? Him having you scent him out in the open?”

You did not have an answer to that.

“I’m just saying,” he shrugged, “I don’t think any of the other alphas left their capes for their calmers. Maybe something is different about you two?”

And though you had to force yourself not to answer, you could not help but spend the rest of the day daydreaming about what it could be like to be Paz Vizsla’s omega.

*

Paz did not have one of the tents that were attributed to the warriors. Instead, he had his own little room in one of the ships. You knew it spoke to his high position in the clan that he got these private quarters and it felt strangely intimate that he allowed you in here on his own.

Just like he had promised, a blindfold was waiting for you. And next to it, a hastily scribbled note. Get comfortable, it said, and by that I mean get naked.

With a grin, you let your eyes roam around the room and land on a bowl of fruit on the table. Had he gotten them for you? Your chest felt strangely warm at the thought and your heart raced as you popped one of the sweet berries into your mouth. Outside, the sun was lowering in the sky, you knew he would be here soon. And you had been up a long time already, too, you could feel the ache in your limbs as you sat down on the mattress.

You squeaked in surprise when you sank in way more than you had expected. Testing the softness, you found that not only was his bedding incredibly soft, no, but the mattress was much softer than the standard issue as well. Inevitably you smiled at the realization that Paz Vizsla just kept on surprising you. Your big warrior was a big teddy bear.

You took a deep breath and then slipped out of your dress, the cool air brushing over your bare skin. Standing completely naked in a strange room made you feel a little uneasy. After all, you were not familiar with your surroundings and what if you accidentally had walked into someone else's room who had the same arrangement with their calmer?

Noticing how ridiculous your panic got, you rushed onto the bed before you could change your mind. You pulled the soft covers over your legs and relished in how they smelled just like him. Then you took the blindfold – it just as soft to the touch and you wondered if it was made from the same material as his bedding – and tied it around your head. Darkness immediately enveloped you, making you feel more nervous and, at the same time, calm.

Lying down slowly, you curled up under the heaps of blankets that soon warmed from your presence.

And before you knew it, you had drifted off to sleep-

The rush of cold air through the open door barely woke you up. You felt disoriented and it took you a moment to remember that you had a blindfold on and that you were in Paz’s room, not your own. But if the door opened that meant someone was here and you were no longer alone. Every muscle in your body was tense as you debated with bated breath whether you should rip off the blindfold now or wait. Under no circumstances did you want to risk offending Paz but you also did not want to risk being subjected to someone who had no business being here.

“It is me, omega, you are safe.”

His deep voice had you relaxed immediately.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice coming closer, “Are you comfortable?”

Stretching your arms above you, you did your best to suppress a yawn. “Your bed is softer than I expected, alpha,” you teased, “I half thought I might be in the wrong room.”

“Nah,” his chuckle got overshadowed by the metallic clink of his armour landing on … the floor? The table? You were not quite sure but your main takeaway was that he was getting rid of said armour. Paz Vizsla was undressing for you. “Believe it or not I actually like soft things, too.”

“They would be great to build a nest with,” you mumbled as you ran your hands over the fabric. But when you realized what you said, you froze. Had you really said that? Out loud? You hated that you could not see his reaction, whether his body tensed or he was trying to hide a grimace behind his helmet. All you could hear were his quiet breaths until the mattress dipped and he was sitting right next to you.

His scent was stronger, and unfiltered, making his proximity to you that much more exciting because he did not smell displeased. On the contrary.

“I bet,” he replied quietly, his voice a low growl. Warm, big hands found your calves under the blanket, slowly making their way up, “I bet you make the loveliest nests, omega.”

The odd (not odd, your brain provided, intimate) compliment still made your skin flush. Because all it made you think about was what it would be like to share your nest with him. Glorious, was the answer. It would be glorious.

“They aren’t too bad,” you admitted with a shrug, shivering when his fingers dug into your thighs for a brief moment, “I always get the really nice blankets from the market.”

You gasped when the blankets were pulled away, the cool air on your skin immediately replaced with his warm body. He hummed, his body weight settling over you. With so much naked skin against yours, you could hardly focus. He felt just as huge as he had looked yesterday and when he rested half-hard against your thigh, you squirmed.

“Maybe I can see your nests, one day,” he suggested lowly, his mouth brushing over your jaw and down your neck. His mouth brushing over your scent gland had your entire body jolt at the sensation, your blood thrumming with need. “When we have reclaimed Mandalore.”

You were so nervous, you did not know what to say. So your brain came up with the next best thing: Small talk. “I have never been to Mandalore before. Have you?”

“Grew up there,” he explained, nipping at your neck, “Until the – until then.”

You nodded, the pain in his voice enough to tell you that he had lived it all. It made you wonder how old he was – not old enough to have fought in there, surely, but maybe … clearly old enough to have vivid memories of that night. Your heart ached for him and you tilted your head up, a happy sigh escaping you when you got to brush your nose along the entirety of his throat.

Paz relaxed into you, his woody scent enveloping you both.

“That’s not what we are here for now, though, are we?”

His grip was tight on your jaw, strong enough to make sure you could not turn away from him and you could feel his eyes burning into you. You shook your head, nervously swallowing as your body already reacted to his words.

“Remind me again,” he whispered, his lips barely brushing over yours, “What are we here for, sweet omega?”

“You, uh, you …”

“Yes?”

You squirmed, embarrassed.

“Someone too shy to say it?” he teased you, the slight mocking undertone making you wetter than you wanted to admit. How did this man have this effect on you?

“That’s alright,” he said after a beat, “I can say it for you.”

“I am going to eat you out,” he whispered as if it were a secret between you, “I am going to feast on this pussy and then I am going to take you from behind and fill you up like you asked me to, omega. You will wake up tomorrow with so much come between your legs, there is no doubt who filled you up.”

You pressed your thighs together, trying to satiate the pulsing need in your core. “Alpha,” you whispered, unsure of what to say other than just beg him to take you.

“I am going to kiss you now, okay?”

He chuckled at your eager nod before fully pressing his lips to yours.

You were overwhelmed by the sensation. It had been so long since you had been kissed and Paz was a good kisser. The best kisser, actually, who seemed to know just what you needed. His stubble scratched your chin when his teeth dug into your bottom lip, pulling on it until you whimpered. The sting was quickly soothed by his tongue slipping into your mouth and dancing with yours. Your hands found the back of his head, too, playing with the short hairs there and his chest rumbled.

He dominated the kiss effortlessly and you let him, relaxing into the bed and wrapping your legs around him. The unmistakable shape of his cock twitched against your folds and could not resist the urge to grind against him.

Moans escaped both of you. “Fuck,” he hissed when he pulled away. Heavy breaths washed over your face and he rested his forehead against you, “Omega, you have no idea how much I needed you today. I was this close just calling you for the talks …”

“Why didn’t you, then?” you asked, surprised to find yourself disappointed, “I am your calmer after all.”

Paz was silent for a moment as he dropped kisses along your neck and further down. Big hands were on your chest, cupping your tits and wasting no time to pinch your nipples. Just lightly at first, plucking at them before his fingers grew a little rougher. You gasped, arching your back off the bed and towards his mouth. Paz’s body vibrated.

“I don’t know,” he finally answered, his tongue darting out to lick over your nipple, “The thought that all these other alphas get to see you look so pretty when I make you feel good …” he trailed off, his fingers tightening their pinch on your nipple and the pleasure mixed with a delicious level of pain. “I wanted you all for myself before we see Mandalore.”

“Now be a good girl for me and play with your tits,” he instructed, his tone leaving no room for questions and you followed. For a moment, you mourned his absence but that did not last long when you felt his hands on your ankles, untangling your legs from his back and folding them to your chest.

Your breath stuttered. With your knees by your ears, you could feel the cool air on your most intimate part and not only that.

You felt exposed and vulnerable but also more turned on than ever. The knowledge that Paz could and probably was looking at you like this, his eyes on your glistening folds, sent another wave of heat through you. Your pussy pulsed and he must have seen it because he let out the lowest groan, causing your walls to clench again.

The sudden presence of his finger made you flinch in surprise and he pauses, the pad of his finger resting just above your clit. “This okay, omega?” he asked.

The smell of his arousal was already in the air but something in his tone still reassured you that he would stop, no questions asked, if you needed him to. And this sense of safety just added to your excitement.

“Yes, alpha,” you breathed, leaning your head back against the pillows.

“Good,” he rumbled, a second and third finger following before you could feel him slowly push inside you. The bed dipped and shifted underneath you as you both adjusted.

“What a beautiful pussy,” he mused, his thumb coming up to rub a circle over your clit and you whimpered, “Could stare at her all night long.”

“P-Paz, please.”

“What is it, little one?” he asked, his thumb steadily running over your clit, sending pulses through your entire body. But with how he had folded you in – “Use your words.”

“You just love to embarrass me, don’t you?” you blurted out, positively surprised at how put together you still sounded. Though you could not deny the breathlessness in your voice, either from excitement or arousal or both you could not say, but who could blame you when you had this massive man above you, playing with your pussy like it was his favourite meal?

“I do,” he agreed and could feel his breath on your folds, the breadth of his shoulder between your legs as he slowly thrust his fingers in you, “Something about corrupting a sweet innocent omega like you makes my cock so hard.”

He licked a broad stripe up your pussy, from your entrance to your clit. Your eyes widened and your body bowed off the bed, your legs trying to close on him but the massive size of his body did a good job preventing it.

“You have no idea the things I want to do to you,” he growled, before pressing a chaste kiss to your clit. “You better keep your legs right where I put ‘em, omega, or at the next meeting I am gonna keep you on your knees and have you cockwarm me with that pretty mouth of yours, understood?”

You forced your trembling hands behind your knees, pulling them to your chest and opening yourself up for him. “Sorry alpha,” you stuttered out. The image his words had conjured up in your head made you clench and you were sure he had seen it.

His hands tightened their grip on your body and his thumbs spread your folds for him as he went down on you like a man dying of thirst. You would have felt oddly exposed to him if it had not been for his tongue and his lips being everywhere, driving you absolutely crazy.

He expertly sucked on your clit until you were sure that not only had you ruined his sheets but that it would only be one more second before you came. But then, he switched back to your entrance, running his tongue along your folds, pressing kisses everywhere until your arousal was at a steady thrum – still pleasant but nowhere near the edge where you had been before. Then returned to your clit, making you see stars before switching back to the rest of you.

Only when you could feel him smiling against your thighs did you realize he was doing it on purpose.

Tears collected in the corners of your eyes, you were that desperate to come. “P-please, alpha,” you gasped out, gripping your knees hard so as to keep to his instructions. Surely, if you did everything he told you to he would reward you. You had been good for him after all …

“Please what?” he mocked you, “What do you need, sweetheart, tell me?”

“Please let me come,” you mumbled, a little flustered.

“Look at that,” he marvelled, “Yesterday you weren’t sure whether you could come on my fat cock, and now you are begging me to let you come on my tongue.” Another well-placed opened-mouthed kiss against your clit and you broke apart.

“Please!” You sobbed, tears now soaking the blindfold, “Please alpha, I will be so good, I promise, you – I will let you do anything just p-please …”

His ministrations paused and the lack of touch almost broke you.

“Are you crying, omega?” he asked, his voice strangely rough. The movement made his stubble brush over the sensitive skin of your hips.

Your cheeks flared with heat in embarrassment but you nodded nonetheless. “It just feels o good,” you admitted in a whisper.

Paz let out a long breath, even that stimulated your clit until you were squirming in his hands. “Fuck,” he murmured, his warm forehead falling onto your lower belly, “that shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does.”

And then he let you come. He made you come.

His lips closed around your clit and all the tricks he pulled out before, he let them play out fully. With your hips grinding against his face, seeking to get closer to him, Paz had his hands holding you still, steadily spreading you for him until you were crying into the cool air.

Even after the first waves of pleasure had rolled over you, the alpha between your thighs did not cease his movements. His mouth got gentler as he licked all that you gave him and sometimes you swore you could feel him hum in satisfaction.

“Good girl,” he praised you quietly and despite everything, you felt yourself flush in arousal at his praise, “You did so good for me.”

Completely out of breath, you felt like you had just experienced one of those training sessions Chants did in the warrior section and that you usually admired from afar.

“Stars,” you breathed, your hands letting go from their grip on your knees. Your legs ached from how you held them for so long and you winced at the movement. Paz was there though, his hands running over your skin and gently helping your legs down before pressing kisses to your thighs.

“You did so good for me,” he repeated affectionately, “’m so proud of you, sweetheart. Using your words, following my instructions.”

“I want a kiss,” was all you could say and he chuckled, leaning in to give you a kiss that had you sighing against him, melting even more into the sheets.

“Thank you,” he whispered against you, his forehead touching yours, “For wearing a blindfold, for allowing me to pleasure you.”

Upon his soft-spoken, honest words, all you could say was, “I can’t speak.”

For a moment, you wondered whether he would misunderstand your lack of response as a lack of reciprocity. But he didn’t. Of course, he didn’t. Paz helped you wrap your arms around his neck, his large hand pressing yours to his nape for a moment before letting you go. Without wasting a moment, you buried your head in his neck, scenting him for all you were worth. You wanted to tell how you felt like you were gloating, how happy you were right now right here.

And despite the lack of words, it seemed to work. His big hand slipped to your back, holding you to him as he leaned back, pulling both of you into a sitting position on the bed.

“Then I did a good job,” he joked. Playfully you slapped him on the chest or at least you planned to but his hand caught yours, gripping your wrist and pinning it to your back. None of it was painful, none of it strict. More … slow and deliberate and loving when his fingers brushed over your wrist gently. This was how he was, it occurred to you, that Paz Vizsla did not need to secure his dominance in any sudden way because he was secure in his dominance. It was never even a question for him whether he would be able to pleasure you. The realization made you even wetter and within moments, it had you forgetting the way he had made you come so undone you did not want to think about being touched again.

“You tasted even sweeter than I imagined,” he revealed with his lips brushing over your cheek.

The whispered compliment made you shift in his lap, causing his hard cock to rub against your folds. A flush went through your body and you tried to shift again, this time getting his shaft to burhs over your clit and you gasped.

“Already?” he teased you, “What a needy little slut I got for myself.”

His fingers returned and you opened your mouth willingly. Just like they did the day before, his fingers moved in and out of your mouth at a slow and deliberate pace, and just like you had done yesterday, you sucked them into your mouth with an eagerness that you were no longer ashamed to showcase for him.

“I promised you I would fuck from behind, didn’t I?” his voice was rough from arousal, his pointer finger pushing down on your tongue.

“Uh-huh”, you swirled your tongue around his fingers, hoping to convey just how much you wanted that.

“Can't wait to work my cock in you again,” he revealed, burying his face in your neck as his fingers slipped so deep in your mouth you gagged. You were clenching around nothing immediately, imagining what his cock would feel inside you. Whether it would feel different now that you knew what was coming.

He pulled his fingers free from your mouth only to put them on your pussy. As if you weren’t wet enough from your orgasm of the century. Carefully, he ran them over your clit and while you felt sensitive still, it was nothing compared to the waves of arousal that returned upon his touch. One thing you knew now: If Paz Vizsla called, your body would answer.

“Tell me if it is too much,” he murmured, kissing the side of your neck as he detangled himself from you. With gentle sounds and strong hands, he directed you to lie on your front and you sunk into the wonderfully soft blankets with a sigh. Then, he straddled you from above, his cock resting heavily on the small of your back.

Even now, he felt massive. So massive that you imagined you could feel him reach the middle of your back, his precome pooling on your skin. But then you had your arms pinned over your head, one of his hands encompassing both of your wrists. And that was just the sexiest thing ever.

He made you feel small, helpless and hornier than ever and it just got better when he pushed inside you for the first time.

“Stars,” you breathed out, clenching your hands into fists. The stretch was just as big as yesterday and in the new position, it took more of an effort to breathe. But he was big inside you, his mushroom tip breaching your entrance.

“You good, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice strained when he pulled out a little just to push back in. And then his thighs shifted, his knees pinning your leg together which made it an even tighter fit and you gasped, feeling him in your belly.

“Wish you could see it,” he commented, “Wish you could see just how good you take my fat cock. How good you are at opening up for me.”

At his words, you tried to lift your ass against him, to get him deeper but his free hand moved to your lower back, pushing you to the bed. “Nu-uh,” he scolded you, “I am the one in charge, little one.”

Oh fuck, why did that turn you on so much?

Your teeth sank into your lip and you whimpered. You would let this man do anything to you. Especially now that, with your back arched, he hit that spot inside you that made you see stars and he seemed to be determined to use it to his advantage.

Paz’s thrusts were slow but deep. Deliberate. His body caged you in, completely covering you as he worked you open on his cock like he had never done anything else in his life. You could feel his breath on your skin, could feel where he gripped your hands, where the muscles in his legs worked to keep him moving, where his belly brushed against your ass.

Paz Vizsla had taken you over completely.

“How do you feel?” he asked, “Happy now you finally have that greedy pussy filled?”

You nodded eagerly, unable to keep the whine down your throat. “F-feels o full, alpha,” you gasped, trying once again to rock against him, “Almost – oh.”

“Almost what?”

“Almost too full.”

He hummed and you noticed how his thrust seemed more urgent. His legs caged your thighs in and you hoped he would squeeze, hoped the movement would put pressure on your clit.

“And yet here you are weeping for me,“ he mused, “You love my too-big-for-you cock, don’t you?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Say it.”

“Huh?” your hands clenched and you tried your best to listen to him, you really did. But maybe you were also just trying to pretend like you were not too cockdumb to realize what he was asking of you.

“Say you love my big cock,” he murmured, sounding way too controlled for your liking. His thrust and you cried out when it hit a spot inside you that made your whole body shiver in the best way.

“Say it or I won't let you come, sweet omega,” he teased you, his free hand gently running over your back, “Don’t you want to come again, sweetheart? Don’t you want to be filled with my come?”

His words cause something to spiral inside you and all you managed was to nod. You did not know where this need had come from to be so close to him. It felt like you had discovered a part of yourself that you had hidden from everyone – including you. But the thought of finally feeling his come inside you the same way it happened yesterday made your nipples tingle and your pussy weep. And from the way he growled, you knew he felt it.

“Love your cock,” you mumbled into the pillow, your cheek smushed against the soft fabric that smelled like him and that made you distractedly think of what it would be like to spend all your nights in his beds, building your nest and cuddling with him.

“What was that?” he asked, the thumb that kept your hands together brushing over the sensitive spots on your wrist, “Couldn’t hear you, sweetheart.”

“I love your cock!” you cried out, embarrassment in your voice, “L-love it, alpha, makes me feel so good.”

His groan was deep and guttural and you could feel him twitch inside you as his thrusts got even harder. Whimpering into the pillow, you relaxed into the sheet once you realised you could not do it anymore. You felt like you had lost control of your limbs and Paz, in your stead, had gained them.

“Good girl,” he praised you, his arm sneaking to your front and circling your clit as he buried himself as deep into you as he could. It took only the barest of touches for you to fall apart in his arms. And this one was even stronger than the one before. You felt completely weightless, bodyless, too, as your brain registered only pleasure. From your toes to your hairline, all you could feel was him. Him pulsing inside you, him filling you with his come and the thought made you clench around him.

“Stars,” he groaned above you, his weight settling on you. The effect this had on him made you smile, your fingers twitching as you tried to reach for him. Because clearly, having him inside you was not close enough.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice all mumbly and you tried to nod. His body resting on yours made you feel secure in a way you could not describe so you focussed on your breathing first, smiling when his hands intertwined with yours.

“Thank you, alpha,” you whispered

“What for?”

“For making me come,” you murmured, “And, uh, for coming inside me.”

Paz made a sound like a grunt and you could feel him twitch at your words. “You say that like it is a chore,” he replied, his lips running over the back of your neck and you shivered when he brushed over your scent gland, “When all I could think about all day was what you might taste like on my tongue. And how pretty you look on my cock.”

“You didn’t take me to the negotiations this morning,” you stated, unable to help the insecurity that scratched at your heart.

“No, I did not,” he answered and, after a slight pause, added, “And I won't take you to the ones tomorrow morning either.”

Hurt cracked at your heart and you shifted. But Paz misunderstood your restlessness and took it as a sign to get up. The warmth of his body left you and you both whimpered when he slipped out of you.

“This is the prettiest sight,” he commented, his large hands spreading your cheeks apart. You felt puffy and slick and the feeling of his come trickling out of you paired with his fingers digging into your soft flesh made you clench again.

The bed dipped and swayed as he moved and soon, you could feel the weight of his body next to yours and gingerly turned around. His arms found you instantly, pulling you into his chest and you sighed as you settled your cheek on his warm skin.

But no matter how comfortable he was, you could not shake your curiosity. “Why?”

“Hm?”

“Why won't you take me to the negotiations here?”

“What I said is true,” he whispered, “I want to keep you for myself until Mandalore. I want to get to know you, to make sure you …”

You frowned, “Make sure I what?”

“Make sure you are okay being seen with a Mandalorian like me.”

It took you a moment to realise what he was saying. And when you did, you were surprised that a confident warrior like him had worries such as these.

“Paz,” you started, your hand splaying over his chest and feeling his heartbeat, “Are – do you think that because you are from a different tribe I would not want to be seen with you?”

“I know what other Mandalorians think of us,” he grumbled, pulling you closer, “I know that my way of life may not seem … normal to you.”

“Paz,” you started, tracing your fingers in makeshift patterns over his skin, “It may not be my way of life but that does not mean I would ever be … be embarrassed or ashamed of being out there with you. I am you calmer and I am,” you took a deep breath, “I am proud to be your calmer, alpha. I would not want it any other way.”

For a long time, Paz did not say anything and you had the sudden fear that what you had said, what you had implied, was too much, that you had crossed some invisible boundary that kept you at a (professional? Diplomatic?) distance. But you could not help it. Could not help the warm feeling in your chest whenever he was near and the need to make him feel … good. And cherished. And wanted.

Stars, you wanted this man.

“Can I kiss you again?”

His big hand covered the side of your face and even though he could not see it, you closed your eyes and nodded. And then his mouth descended on yours. The kiss was soft and slow, his tongue brushing over your lower lip. You could feel his stubble against your chin and it did not take long before you cupped his cheek as well, feeling the growing beard under his thumb.

Before you could ask him how he kept his facial hair most of the time, a yawn forced its way out of your body. Paz moved his mouth away and you whimpered, trying to get him to kiss you again.

“Sleep, my love,” he whispered against your ear, “We will see each other tomorrow.”

[tired-teacher-blog]

Bonjour 💫, I hope this is not adding to a moutain of stuff you have to do but I do remember something that I thought was fun 🌺 And for once it's fluff lmao unless you wanna spice it lol which is fine 😂

Basically Y/n coming to her ( / their ) boyfriend and give them flowers. My favorite characters are too much lol and I don't want to overwhelm putting them all but just to show them ( Izuku, Katsuki, Shoto, Denki, Kirishima, Tamaki, Itoshi, Neito, Dabi, Tomura ) but let's just go for the colorful ones because it's a LOT 😂 ( Our boys are the same age as in the season 6 but now I'm thinking that people are not monir anymore and I too 😂 canon personnality because it's cool 💎 )

As awlays no pressure and take your time ( only if you want to write )

Bonsoir ma belle 😘 how about all of them? It was a challenge I'm not gonna lie 😂 I was mainly afraid of repeating myself so I kept going back to reread what I've written so something like that wouldn't happen. I kept their personalities as canon as possible (like I usually do) but I changed a tiny something here, which is their age. I know you requested their canon age but tbh I'm more comfortable making them older (with the exception of Dabi and Shiggy who are already 20+ years old) but you won't really notice the difference so I hope this is fine.

For you

Characters : Bakugo/ Shouto/ Izuku/ Shinsou/ Amajiki/ kaminari/ Kirishima/ Monoma/ Dabi/ Shigaraki/ Fem reader

Genre : Fluff/ Suggestive in a few parts/ imagines

Please do not read if you're a minor

Masterlist|Second Masterlist

Bakugo :

_ "What's this?" he sounded a bit confused while eying the bouquet you held in your arms.

_ "This is for you, here." you pushed the beautifully selected blooms against his chest and offered him an equally beautiful smile.

_ "Yeah but, what's the occasion?" you were practically able to see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to remember what he could have missed.

Was it his birthday? Valentine's day? Your anniversary? No, it was none of them.

_ "There is this cute little flower shop on my way home, and it sells the most beautiful roses so I wanted to surprise you with this." you seemed incredibly bashful as your head hung low, wondering if he actually hated them, or if he would give you one of his usual snarky remarks.

Your self confidence dropped to the ground in an instant, and you seriously considered playing it off as a joke, however..

_ "You're really cute you know that?" did he really mean those words?

He held the bouquet in one hand and used the other to gently lift your chin up and place a soft peck on your flushed cheek, "I love them, thank you so much beautiful," he murmured faintly, lips gliding along your skin until they reached your smiling ones, "kiss," was his sole warning to you, before stealing your breath away with a deep passionate liplock.

Shouto :

_ "For me?" he blinked innocently, tilting his head to the side.

_ "Yeah! Do you like it?" you were practically jumping in excitement as you watched him hugging the bouquet to his chest.

_ "I do, of course I do, it's from you after all." he replied with a smile as he grabbed your hand and pulled you closer to him.

He did not demand further explanation, didn't need to, he was just happy to receive something as beautiful from you.

His mismatched irises gazed into yours for a moment, a gaze full of love and appreciation, one that you returned with the same sentiments they reflected.

All he wanted at that moment was to kiss you, to feel your warmth against himself, -and so he did- leaning in slowly to capture your anticipating lips.

It was soft, almost as soft as the delicate petals of those beautiful roses you brought for him, and you got lost in it at once.. lost in him.

_ "I'm so happy you liked them Shouto," you breathed out shakily before kissing him again, a gentle peck on the tip of his nose, bringing out that adorable chuckle you loved so much.

_ "I would love anything from you sweetheart."

Kirishima :

"Hi babe, how was your day tell me! I'll be home a bit later than expected today as well and I'll bring food with me so just relax until I'm there. I love you."

You reread his text and sighed in despair as you gazed at the beautiful roses you picked out for him. He's been working long hours lately and it's been affecting him greatly, but even in the midst of it all, he still made sure to call and text you throughout the day to make sure you're doing well.

You wanted to do something nice for him, to try and alleviate the stress he must be feeling lately which is why you purchased that beautiful bouquet as you wished to see that bright smile on his face while presenting it to him, "I have to see him now." you were determined, and couldn't possibly wait until he comes home, so you decided to surprise him instead.

You drove back to his agency, accompanied by a warm meal that you made in a jiffy, in addition to your special little gift..

You knocked on his door after asking his assistant not to notify him of your presence since you wanted to surprise him.

_ "Yeah come in." your heart dropped hearing how tired he sounded, but you kept your smile for him nonetheless.

_ "Is this a bad time Mr Kirishima?" your cheerful voice came as soon as you opened the door, and those were the only words you could utter before being engulfed in his arms.

It happened in a flash that all you could do was allow him to hold and kiss you all over your face.

_ "Alright alright let me breathe Eijiro!" you couldn't control your giggles as you pretended to suffocate in his strong hold.

_ "I'm sorry gorgeous, I'm just so happy to see you." and it wasn't until then that he took notice of what you were carrying.

_ "Oh yeah, I brought dinner and.. something else." you couldn't control your nerves as you handed him the bouquet, taking advantage of the food packs in your hand to change the subject, "oh, so guess what's for dinner!"

_ "This is for me? You brought this for me?" he was clearly not talking about food as his bright eyes admired the bouquet.

_ "Do you like them? You deserve so much more Eijiro." you kissed his cheek and watched as his smile grew wider.

_ "I'm the happiest man alive because you're mine."

Izuku :

You were excited the whole way home as you kept imagining his reaction to your little gift. He would be a blushing mess, -that part was already guaranteed- but what would he say?

_ Y/n.. you brought those, for.. for me?" you guessed right, he was in fact timid as he nervously held the bouquet in his arms.

_ "What do you think of it Izuku? Do you like it? I just wanted to do something nice for you." and at that moment, he wasn't the only one blushing, since the same soft pink shade that was dusting his cheeks duplicated itself onto your own as you spoke.

_ "What.. of course I love them! They're beautiful! I just can't believe you thought of me that much.." he looked adorable as he attempted to hide his face behind the bouquet.

You took a step closer and tried to move the roses -separating you from each other- away, so you could look at him clearly.

You were tempted to fluster him a bit more, as you placed a small peck on his quivering jaw, and another on his heated cheek, "I just wanted to see this cute look on your face Izuku." you murmured faintly, lips caressing his skin and ghosting over his own.

_ "That's mean. Still, I love your gift and I'm about to show you just how grateful I am." and with that, his cute bashful demeanor was instantly replaced with a primal desire that sent blissful goosebumps all over your body.

Hitoshi :

_ "Hitoshi! Are you home?" you called out for your boyfriend as soon as you stepped into your apartment, hoping he would show up and tell you that he's been waiting for you.

And he did, emerging from the bathroom all wet and steamy, wearing nothing but a towel that hung low around his waist. And for a moment you forgot how to speak as your eyes studied his flexing muscles.

_ "Welcome home babe! Oh, what's that you're holding?" he approached you casually, unaware of the indecent thoughts dancing in your head, but you somehow snapped back to your senses and replied quickly.

_ "These are for you, no particular reason I just wanted to get you something pretty." your eyes were locked on the delicate roses as you did not trust the blush threatening to creep up your face.

_ "Something pretty huh? Well I already have you," he spoke suggestively, placing an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against him, forcing the bouquet to squish between your bodies.

_ "Hitoshi, stop it." you meant to scold him for paying little attention to the roses you picked so carefully for him, but your words came out in a little whine that amused the man in front of you.

_ "I'm sorry, but you're so fun to tease," his chuckles were muffled against your forehead as he kissed you gently before moving back to gaze into your eyes, "I really love them sweetheart, you never cease to surprise me."

Shigaraki :

You tiptoed your way out of his room after leaving something unexpected on his bed, you didn't know how he would react to your gift, and didn't dare hand it to him personally so you left it in his room secretly when he wasn't looking.

_ "Y/n, what are you doing here? Were you looking for me?" his voice startled you but you faked nonchalance as you giggled nervously.

_ "Yeah I was.. but it's nothing! I'll see you later." you tried to flee the scene but he was a lot faster than you were, grasping your arm and pinning you in place.

_ "What's the matter y/n? Is everything okay?" he studied your face and awaited a response that never came, "alright come with me."

He dragged you along into his room and closed the door behind you two, and before he could turn around to face you, something strange caught his attention.

_ "Are those.. roses?" he was confused for a moment, brows knitted as he tried to comprehend, until finally everything started making sense in his head, "oh, so that's why you were acting weird huh?"

You gritted your teeth and braced yourself for a scolding or a mockery, but what came instead left you wide eyed and speechless.

_ "They smell really good, I like them." he declared with a smile, holding the colorful blooms in his arms.

You were still quiet, wondering if that wasn't just a figment of your imagination, until you felt his rough palm caressing your cheek, "thank you darling, they're beautiful."

Amajiki :

You giggled softly, leaning against the doorframe and watching him sleep peacefully.

It has been hectic for him lately, with more night shifts added to his already cramped schedule, leaving him with minimal time to relax and even lesser to be with you.

You missed each other too much that even the regular phone calls were no longer enough for either of you, but today was a rare day off for him, one that you decided to take full advantage of.

_ "Tamaki, can you hear me sweetheart?" you felt a little bad for interrupting his well needed shut eye, but you honestly wanted to see and talk to him.

He groaned against his pillow, still unaware of your presence, until you sat down by his side and caressed his bare shoulder.

_ "Tamaki, can you open your eyes for a moment baby?" you whispered your plea and leaned in to kiss his warm skin.

_ "Y/n, hi sweetie.." he slurred a reply while rubbing the sleep from his eyes and blinking repeatedly until you came into focus.

He looked so cute that you couldn't help kissing his pouty lips, "I'm sorry for waking you Tamaki but I promise this won't take long, I just want to give you something and I couldn't wait until later."

_ "What.. yes of course, what is it?" he sat up -still a bit confused- but something in your lap caught his attention, it was a gorgeous bouquet you specifically went out earlier to buy.

_ "This is for you, I hope you like it," you averted your gaze and bit down on your lip nervously, "you have been down lately because of work so I wanted to make you.. smile."

You felt his hand on yours, squeezing lightly, "you did this for me?" and it was barely above a whisper.

You nodded slowly, finally turning around to face him, and placed the beautiful blossoms on the nightstand next to him before standing back up and preparing to leave, "that was all, you can go back to sleep now and I'll wake you up when dinner is ready."

_ "Don't go!" he grabbed your arm and pulled you down again, "stay with me, and don't worry about food, we'll order something later."

You couldn't say 'no' to him, not when he was looking at you with those big hopeful eyes.

You slipped underneath the covers with him, burying your face in the crook of his neck and relaxing in his hold.

_ "Thank you they're beautiful, just like you."

Dabi :

_ "What part of me makes you think that I'm a flower boy?" he looked unimpressed, crossing his arms over his chest as he spoke.

You knew he would react in that exact same way when you decided to buy him roses on your way to see him, so why were you hurt by his words then?

_ "Yeah I know, sorry.. you can throw them away or burn them or whatever." you placed the bouquet on his couch and took a deep breath as you tried to ignore the sharp sting in your heart.

He was right though, roses? For him? The more you thought about it the dumber you felt, so honestly, you were the one to blame..

_ "I'm sorry Touya, let's forget about this," you feigned a smile as you approached him again, "so how was your day? Anything interesting?" you were on the verge of tears as you desperately tried to change the subject, but he saw right through you.

His eyes moved between your pained expression and the forgotten roses that he finally decided to pick up, "these aren't that bad I guess." in reality, he hated them, he hated how disgustingly bright and delicate they were, but what he hated the most was being the reason of your dejection, so if accepting them would bring back your smile, then so be it.

You were so easy to read, so simple to fool and for some reason, the twinkle illuminating your eyes, and the smile reappearing on your face after hearing his words, warmed his heart and relieved him.

So maybe you weren't the only fool there, maybe he was one too, a fool for you.

Monoma :

_ "Oh, these are for me?" he expressed smugly while that usual annoying smirk -that you loved so much- was plastered across his face, "well I guess I deserve them right?" and there it was, that obnoxious laugh again.

_ "Come on don't be a jerk, I knew this was a bad idea," you shook your head and crossed your arms over your chest as you started regretting what you've done, "everyone said I could do better, but I picked you instead." you tried as much as you could to keep a straight face and stifle your laughter.

_ "Of course you did gorgeous, I'm the best of them."

He's a conceited self-centered asshole, so bringing him a gift with no particular occasion would only boost his arrogance. You knew that, but you still wanted to do something nice for him because even a jerk like him still made you happy, he's the love of your life after all.

_ "Yeah yeah I get it." you still feigned annoyance, but deep down you were actually amused.

_ "I'm sorry sweetheart, come here," his chuckles resumed as he dragged you close, nuzzling your neck and breathing in your scent, "hmm.. sweet," his lips lingered there, right above your pulse, and his free arm pulled you even closer to his chest while the other one held the bouquet, "they're beautiful and I love them, thank you love." and that was a rare moment of humbleness that he only dares to show you because you're the one who owns his heart.

Denki :

_ "Yes! Die you bastard! If you think you've got a chance against Chargebolt then you're clearly dreaming!" his loud shouts reached the outside of your shared apartment where you stood, and you let out a knowing chuckle before opening the front door and walking in.

Your days off are usually lazy, warm and cozy, and it's a nice change of pace from your usual stressful lives as pro heroes, which is why you two prefer to spend that precious free time doing typical ordinary things.

_ "I'm back honey!" you called out for him as you placed your shopping bags at the entrance, except for one thing that you kept holding in your arms.

He clearly couldn't hear you due to all of the infernal shooting and explosions coming from the game he was focused on, so you called again and this time it worked.

_ "Oh! Y/n you're back sweetheart!" he seemed like a little puppy who's excited for his owner's return, throwing his game console away and running up to you, "did you have a good time with the girls? I missed you so much! You were gone for so long!" yes, a little puppy.

He was so happy to see you that he failed to notice the colourful roses you held in your arms, until you pushed the fragrant blooms to his chest with a smile, "I'm sorry for being late, here is an apology gift." it was merely an excuse so you would see that sparkle in his eyes.

_ "These are amazing!" he took them off your hands, peppering your cheeks, nose and forehead with sweet little kisses, "you're the best y/n," was what he whispered to you before finally connecting your lips.

@moumouton4

[lexithwrites]

soooo what's exactly your problem with lily (i understand this one, if the fandom gonna take her husband from her they at least should do her justice or don’t write her) and barty being portrayed as shitty exes and why you can't scroll past and let people write what they want and where does your limitation end? are you also gonna bash writers who write regulus as raging homophobe and rapist in wolfstar fanfics or it doesn’t apply to him? what about snape? the way he's written in many marauders fanfics goes against his canon arc, should the writers be called out for inaccurate portrayal of him?

i think characters are tools and if writers wanna use them as tools it should not be controversial. do you think otherwise?

to answer your first question — because it's an opinion. am i going onto people's fanfictions and wasting my time commenting that i hate their trope? no. am i calling authors out by username? no. am i just stating my opinion on my tumblr? yes. plus, you are well within your right to scroll too, you didn't have to let my post get to you? if it offends you that much then block me lmao

id love to know what fics you're reading where regulus does that?? but no i dont agree with that therefore i wouldnt bother reading it? idc how popular a fic is, if i dont wanna read it then i dont have to, its called having free will. i dont want to read about a r*pist for a start, and ive never really liked snape that much and ive only read the books once and watched the films growing up, i dont really think about his character that much especially since i only write muggle/modern aus. write them how you want, but it doesn't mean i have to like it does it?

i dont think anyone should bash authors for their work, myself included. am i allowed to have a private, personal opinion on what i want to read/enjoy reading? absolutely, everyone is in their right! as are you anon, but coming to me and saying this is surely a waste of your time? my opinion doesn't matter to anyone but me lmao

and when did i say it was controversial? i just said i dont like when people make these characters the bad guys when they dont have to. oc's exist for a reason, why not make lily and james old childhood friends instead of exes that have bad blood? why does barty just have to be the old fuck buddy that regulus never looked at again the moment james came around, when he and regulus could have been raised as brothers together and are close that way? or they could all be strangers, the possibilities of fanfics are endless! thats the beauty of them! but is this gonna keep me up at night that authors have FREE WILL and can CHOOSE to write whatever they wanna write? hell no idc that much lmao, but this is my tumblr, as i said, and i can say what i want on it tbh

anyway, if you hate my opinion that much then thats cool, im not mad at that, but you can do much more vital things in your day im sure, have a good one <3

[chaoticly-shy-dragon]

so I am working - dragging my feet - through natla (1 episode left) and I thought I would share some of my thoughts and commentary:

Iroh: You must use your tact, your empathy-

Season 1 Zuko: [looks back at him]

*

Canon s1 ep3 Zuko: You... are working with Zhao. Willingly.

Show s1 ep3 Zuko: Yes? What's the problem? He is annoying but that's mostly it.

Canon!Zuko: UNCLE! DID YOU PUT SPIRIT MUSHROOMS IN MY TEA AGAIN?! I'M HAVING LUCID NIGHTMARES!!

Other random thoughts:

[Suki proceeds to defy gravity with her fan to impress Sokka]

Me, exasperation incarnate: Suki, I didn't know you were an airbender!

and

[Previous incarnation avatar bashing sesh]

Me: [...] But I love Zuko-Iroh interactions

[The one scene. Zuko is shouting how they can't just ask around. Iroh is offering advice until he gets distracted by street food.]

Me: The fact Zuko stood there for a few seconds trying to figure what this proverb means before he realizes its very much not a proverb - cackling

Second-hand long-suffering friend, who is at the end of her wits after hearing me talk about the butchering of Kyoshi's character for 20 minutes: XDDDD He legit thought rice had sth to do with it XD

there is more but it's more of

Oh no, he is hot.

And oh no he is also hot

Why is every extremist hot?!

Bumi is very bitter. Very.... Jaded.

Aang has no situational awareness: He did not just ask Zhao (Zuko too) to let him go so he can go save other enemies of the Fire Nation. He didn't.

Also. Why the firebender this, firebender that. Are the Fire Nation non-benders saints or something??

Mai casually says Ozai sucks for not thinking Azula is perfect <- Me: I mean she is absolutely right but she would not say that.

Azula's whole. Thing. I felt the narrative was trying very desperately to make her seem competent and clever but the fact that Iroh's thoughts insinuated the frontal attack on the Northern Water Tribe was her idea left me in stitches

But yeah. They nerfed Azula

Zuko - feral, bloodthirsty, a loser. <- Me: Oh my god they captured his essence! Minus the honor thing!

ZUKO NOT SAYING HONOR

THE TRAVESTY OF SOKKA NOT WEARING A DRESS

I WANT SOKKA IN KYOSHI WARRIOR UNIFORM

Katara not having any emotions ::: Aang walks all over her saying he can't support her in her fight against the patriarchy that is actually just Pakku and Yugoda or whatever was happening in the 7th episode: Katara doesn't blow up at him. Sokka calling her a little girl and never actually apologizing about the whole Jet accusation especially when he did the same with the Mechanist. : Katara doesn't blow up at him

Me: sounds fake but okay

At this point when Toph comes along Katara will let her not be a part of the Team (no Gaang just Team Avatar) and not contribute and not bond and NO FOUND FAMILY TROPE

Aang teaching Katara waterbending, Aang not goofing off, No Kataraang (not even a smidge) - something in me shriveled up and died.

Why is Azula soft??????

And why is Ty Lee assertive and forthcoming??? Just?? Why????

And finally, my second favorite:

Azula, trying very hard not to mention Zuko's ludicrous tenacity: Commander Zhao is a great asset... Maybe he needs better resources to showcase his true potential.

Zhao who barely passed his exams according to Jee the gossip queen: Yes, I do need the best resources. Give me all the 'sources.

[emeralddoeadeer]

Give me a sample for prompt 48 plzzzz

Hey! Thanks for the prompt <3

I actually got this one twice but rather than have you share the angsty result, I thought I'd do another.

“I called you at 2am because I need you.”

to dream the impossible dream

Canon 860 words

The unmistakable sound of his best friend calling his name rouses him. Bleary-eyed, he tosses his arm carelessly to the bedside table, fingers reaching around the cool smooth surface.

“Prongs? Do you mean to say—”

“Sirius this is serious.”

The sound of light laughter fills his dimly lit bedroom, James fumbles for his glasses, squinting at the mirror in his hand.

A glimpse of auburn hair, a flash of pale neck as she tosses her head back, Lily Evans.

“You don’t understand— where did Mary go? She gets it…”

James hears his best friend chuckle, the image on the small rectangle in his hand sways with their movement, their location indiscernible.  

“Mary, my dear, is utterly sloshed and insisted on finding a chippy that she swears she knows how to find; the pack followed her.”

“I like chips, chips are delicious— almost as delicious as dimples, you know who has a great dimple? Your best mate.”

The chuckle returns, a feminine sigh feathering through the sound.

He’s dreaming, he must be dreaming.

James pulls himself up in bed, resting his back against the headboard, stretching his neck from side to side, in the hope of gathering his wits.

“Let’s wait here for everyone—” The steady motion comes to a halt, his friend’s leg in view “—you have any other thoughts on this best mate of mine?”

Sirius lifts his arm, sending a wink to James through the reflective glass, and angling it so the girl next to him fills the small frame. Her head rests back against a brick wall, a smile spreading from cheek to cheek.

“So many, all the time.”

“More than you think about the giant squid?”

She wets her lips, releasing another soft sigh, “More than I think about magic, probably.”

Merlin, it’s impossible, it’s a dream, just a really good dream.

“Prongs?”

“James Fleamont Potter, your James.”

“You sure he isn’t your James.”

“I wish he were here—”

“Yeah?”

A crease pulls her brows together, a fleeting sadness.

“I smell vinegar, hold this, I’ll be over there…”

The perspective shifts, he can’t make out much in the streetlight, shadowed outline, the corner of a fringed smock.

If this is a dream, he doesn’t want to waste it. He wants more of her, to talk to her, see her clearer, look her in the eye.  

“All right Evans?”

His voice is coarse, a cough follows and when he recovers, there she is sparkling green eyes sweeping over his bed-messed hair, his flushed cheeks.

“James?” A breathy whisper that sends a shiver through him.

He sends her a bashful wave, he wants to memorise this look on her face, a look of delight, of wonder.

“You’re in bed.”

An easy smile pulls at his lips, “It’s almost two o’clock in the morning—”

“You didn’t come out.”

She pouts her lip, and he considers that maybe she believes it a dream, her mind creating a drunken conjuring.

“Mum doesn’t approve of mixing Pepper-Up with firewhisky…”

“You’re hot, I mean are you hot? I— Sirius said— do you still have a fever?”

His breathing is heavy and his chest hammers against his ribs.

“I think I’m feeling better actually.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean, I— unless this is just all fever-fueled delirium.”

She tilts her head to the side, studying him intently, a soft smile lifting her lips. She opens her mouth, looks away, and closes it. Her head shakes from side to side and her eyes look more awake when they return to him.

“You sure you’re feeling better?”

“Oh, ‘eh, yeah, reckon so.”

“I think I need to check for myself, do you fancy some chips?”

“What?”

The rest of the soon-to-be seventh-year Gryffindors appear in the background of the small mirror as if from nowhere.

“James invited us over for a nightcap, shall we find a floo?”

The mirror passes back to his best friend, a brief wink and it disconnects.

He stumbles from bed, feet solid on the wooden floor, and tangles himself while changing out of his pyjamas, his body bubbles with anticipation, if this is a dream it’s more real than any he’s ever had before.

Laughter, followed by shushing, travels up the stairs as he descends, a welcome sound of life in the quiet old house.

“Morning, all.”

Remus pats him on the shoulder as he passes, Sirius wears a wide grin, “To the kitchen—”

Everyone follows, the promise of a cool butterbeer to wash down their food.

They’re all here, Lily is here.

She stops in front of him and runs a hand through his dishevelled hair, her knuckles skimming his cheek.

“You’re flushed.”

“Uhuh—”

He has no doubt, no means to cool himself, no potion to cure the cause.

He brings her hand to his chest.

“Rapid heartbeat too, it’s the Evans effect.”

Pushing onto her tiptoes, she presses her cool lips to his cheek, covering his dimple.

Threading their fingers together, both hands, palm to palm, Lily rests her head on his chest as if she’s in communion with his heart.

“You have that effect on me too, James.”

To dream the impossible dream, only to have reality be that much sweeter.

[calekinnieplus]

This looks like a fun idea, so here goes! :

What do you think of this guy🙃?

Oh wow! Good character you chose there ahahaha! Roselle Gustav aka Huang Tao!

First impression

Honestly, I was floating in confusion at the start a bit, considering it was my first Chinese webnovel, so I had a period of readjustment to the writing style (or the translation ig?), so I didn't immediately connect the dots that Roselle was a transmigrator or that he's... kinda "dead" lol

Buuuut, once the dots connected, I did find him quite amusing! Bro's self-confidence gave me second-hand embarrassment, but not That bad. But also, Klein was bashing on him so hard, it was kinda hilarious.

I don't fully remember what impression I had of him, since I was reading pretty slow in the beginning and some ideas were lost, but overall, fun guy lmao

Impression now

Hilarious guy, a meme, a legend.

Yet...

Quite unfortunate that his end was just endless suffering (which will hopefully not be endless haha...). Bro made small mistakes in the beginning when he didn't know Anything, when he was transported to a world he didn't know anything about, forced to adapt and live a new life. I don't know, I find him tragic, just like Klein.

At least he had some good times along the road (especially with a demoness heh). The funny stories were nice to read.

Favorite moment

Basic, but his first talk with Klein. I mean, him meeting a fellow transmigrater and quickly having faith in him was sweet. I really wish to see more of them :>

If we're talking about the diary entries, I'd probably choose when... uhhh the corruption thing. Roselle going to the moon. And when he gazed into the Abyss. I remember how the diary entry abruptly cut off after dumping a lot of info and both Klein and I were Flabbergasted. What did it MEAN-!!

(I have a feeling I'm mixing up the moments, but the feelings remain. The confusion, the anticipation and the wonder from some diary entries were Amazing)

OH, and the last diary entry of course. It was so chill-inducing! It was one of those moments that answered a lot of questions while also bringing even MORE questions. It was just- the atmosphere full of fear and uncertainty, putting into question what that fellow transmigrator went through, wowie~

Idea for a story

Well, let me shuffle in the corner of my brain...

I've always been a fan of Time Travel AUs. So the idea of Klein (at a higher sequence but not Saint Level, maybe? Idk, a lot of possibilities here) travelling to Roselle’s time period and the two of them becoming best buddies (Roselle’s words, not Klein's. Klein's facepalming in the background at Roselle’s shenanigans).

Maybe! It could be a young god Mr Fool using his domain over Space and Time and having a misplaced adventure during Roselle’s time.

(We're pretending the Outer Gods and CW isn't as dauting of a problem as they are in canon, aye?)

Anyway, doesn't matter which version of Klein or during what time he's visiting, it's mandatory that he facepalms at least once :))

Unpopular opinion

Well, I don't know the popular opinions, so I'll guess I'll just go with an opinion.

I mean, he totally could've treated his wife better. I can understand feeling a disconnect with this world and humanity in general, but at least don't bring shame to her name by being a known womanizer, mm? At least divorce or smth, man. You overthrew the government, you could definitely do that.

Unless he actually did divorce her and we just don't know. But otherwise, yeah. Kinda dick move there, Emperor.

Favorite relationship

(Platonic, right?)

Again, basic but. Roselle and Bernadette.

The fact that Bernadette spent so much time searching for a father she was on dubious terms with and how much faith she had that he persevered against all odds.

The fact that Roselle’s one and only tie with this new world was his daughter, his beloved child that he loved with all his might. A child he shared a piece of his old world with. A child he remodeled this entire world's structure for. Absolutely heart-warming.

Favorite headcannon

Hmm let's see...

Huang Tao, as a young individual who surfs the internet, would know a lot of memes or jokes. After becoming Roselle Gustav, those memes aren't easily forgotten.

I mean, is it canon, actually? Maybe he made several Chinese meme references and I missed them lmao. That would be funny

Bonus: imagine Huang Tao and Zhou Mingrui bumped into each other one day, unaware that the next time they'll meet each other, it will be after more than 10 000 years, give or take. ...what's the timeline here?

[artzychic27]

In response to your Nathaniel WandaVision AU, I suggest an AU where the reasons why the show keeps changing and assasinating characters and making everyone support Adrinette is because Marinette in control of the narrative, and has the town of Paris under her spell. That's why the Science Kids and some of the Akuma Class get little to no screentime, it's why everyone now blindly supports her getting together with Adrien.

Adrien: Hey, Nath? Do you notice anything… Off?

Nathaniel: *Sketching Adrinette scenes* Nope! Everything’s fine here. Oh, and if you see Marc, tell him our date is cancelled because we’re spending the day helping you and Marinette with your more important date.

Adrien: … Uh… Thanks? *Rests his hand on Nathaniel’s shoulder, and he takes a sharp inhale*

Nathaniel: … Where am I? What day is it?! *Looks at his sketchbook* What the fuck am I drawing?!

Adrien: Nath, are you alright?

Nathaniel: … Since when did you start calling me that?! O-only Alix and Marc call me that! We never even hang out!

Adrien: What are you talking about? You and Marc have been helping me with dates for Marinette-

Nathaniel: What?! Dude, that’s- NO! Why would we ever help her get together with you?! She’s a creep!

Adrien: But didn’t you have a crush on her?

Nathaniel: That was before Alix helped me realize she’s nuts!… Where is Alix?

Adrien: You don’t know? Nath, she’s been gone for… For weeks, now.

Nathaniel: … What month is it?

Adrien: It’s May.

Nathaniel: No… No, I-it was February- Wait! No… No, I-it was October, and- Oh, God. I-I was with Marc and the others after Miracle Queen, and, uh-

Adrien: I really think you should calm down-

Nathaniel: Don’t tell me to calm down! I’m sitting here drawing cringe romance scenes between you and Marinette, Alix is gone, and I can’t remember a single thing after Chloé got Akumatized again!

—

Adrien: There’s no way any of what he said is true. Marinette’s not a stalker… *While he’s walking, he bumps into Denise* Oh! Sorry!

*Instead of saying anything, Denise just smiles and goes back to silently talking to Simon*

Adrien: Uh… Hello? *Remembering earlier, he places his hand on Denise and Simon’s shoulders, and they have the same reaction as Nathaniel*

Simon: What the bloody fuck just happened?!

Denise: I-I’m okay. I’m alive. We’re alive! We’re alive, right?! This isn’t hell?!

Adrien: What do you mean?

Simon: … You can hear us? *Adrien nods* H-he can hear us! It’s a fucking miracle! He can hear us! We haven’t been able to talk in forever!

Denise: You never talked to or interacted with us; we thought we were dead, or something! What about the others?! Are they alright?!

Adrien: Who?

Simon: Reshma, Aurore, Mireille, Ismael, everyone!

Adrien: Who’s Reshma? What are your names?

Simon: … You seriously don’t remember? C-come on! I taught you all those cheat codes in your video games!

Denise: I literally carried you to safety when an Akuma was after you! How do you not remember?!

Adrien: I-I just don’t; I’m sorry.

—

Max: *After getting de-canoned* So… You’re telling me that there’s some sort of interference in our universe that has kept us and our friends stuck on sort of this pause effect for months, and when you interact with us, we “wake up?”

Adrien: That’s what I’m saying.

Max: Well, Adrien… I believe you, and… *Whispers* I’m secretly freaking the hell out, but I don’t want to alarm anyone.

Adrien: Oh… You don’t want anyone alarmed.

Cosette: *Running past them screaming* WHAT FUCKING DAY IS THIS?! WHEN DID I GET A GIRLFRIEND?!

Zoé: *Running and screaming* WHAT AM I DOING HERE?! THIS ISN’T NEW YORK!

Kim: *Screaming and bashing his fists against the wall* WHY! AM! I! SUDDENLY! A JERK?!

Adrien: … Yeah, anyway! Can you help me?

Max: I suppose the first step is to find the cause, but- I am a sore loser who cannot handle losing to a girl, Marinette is the best at video games, and I suck, I never deserved to go to the championship.

Adrien: What? Max, why are you-

Marinette: Adrien! There you are! Come on, or we’re gonna be late for our date. Hi, Max.

Max: Hello, my video game superior. I would challenge you to a game of Ultra Mecha Strike, but that would be pointless. So, I will spend my valuable time coming up with several clothing combinations Adrien will love on you.

[anti-katsuki-lounge]

yk, it kind of annoys me when people rag on shinso for "coasting through life with his quirk". like, there are plenty of other valid criticisms of his character in canon (though admittedly i love his fanon characterization a lot bc of my own biases) but that one always gets under my skin. because that's,,, something basically every canon character does? if you have a quirk, youre going to use it, and the metric for which people use to identify a character as "relying on their quirk too much" seem inconsistent at best. even our very own main character midoriya starts relying on his quirk for everything basically as soon as he can use it without hurting himself, and we stop getting those fun moments where he gets to show his intelligence and creativity nearly as often as theyre replaced with "who can punch harder" contests.

also people who claim shinso did no physical training before the entrance exam, or before aizawa picked him up. because as far as im aware,,, thats never stated in canon? i think people are assuming that if he did any physical training, he would've automatically gotten into the hero course, but that's just not true. even if he trained as hard as he physically could, its gonna be basically impossible for a 15 year old who doesnt have a quirk that gives them an advantage to win against enough robots to pass... which is the literal point of the test. and before anyone brings up hagakure or ojiro, ojiro has an extra limb which canonically helps with his destructive power (he uses his tail to destroy things his punches/kicks couldnt multiple times) and professional martial arts training that shinso clearly doesnt have based on how he flailed during his fight with midoriya, and hagakure is invisible so she can easily sneak up on the robots and take the time to find their weaknesses without being attacked. clear advantages.

and even if he did absolutely no combat training, that could easily be a result of the whole quirk-centric society brainwashing everyone that their quirk makes them who they are. that they have to rely on it, and use it as their guide on who/what to become. so the fact that people are so quick to chalk it up to stupidity and arrogance, when it could easily be just a teenager who isnt immune to propaganda being bitter (and admittedly cruel, like i said not a fan of his canon characterization) when he tries to do something good with his "evil" quirk and it doesnt work, or hell any number of hundreds of other explanations, annoys me a bit. (i realize this is probably coming off as more of an angry rant than im intending, but im not actually that upset about it, im just trying to communicate my thoughts clearly.) ultimately, i dont think we have enough info on shinso's character to decide things like that, you know? and i dont think its productive to just decide that one interpretation of the very limited information we have on his thoughts and actions is the canon one, and then bash/praise him for that interpretation.

i think that's also why tagging things as OOC isnt really done anymore unless its egregious, because there are so many interpretations of characters that are close enough to canon that that version of them can be argued, and a lot of times the person who holds that interpretation is truly convinced that version in their heads is canon, to the point that anyone saying it isnt is automatically deemed an idiot who can't read. so its easy to say "people should tag more things as OOC", but it takes a lot to be aware that how you read a character may not be what is actually displayed in the text or what the author intended, and a lot of people only think about how they read the story due to their own biases or creativeness or pet peeves, not the literal reading of the text. its especially hard in manga, when drawings of facial expressions can sometimes be argued to display a number of emotions, thoughts, etc.

and that one post where someone said that shinso would die immediately if he had to fight someone with a weapon, when he wasnt trained, and they were genetically physically immune to his quirk?? like, yeah, obviously??? so would anyone! these hypotheticals are meaningless, because you could easily say "well, what is hagakure had to fight someone with a gun who had heat vision on day one, she'd probably die" or any other random character and scenario. it means nothing, especially since shinso was actively training to get into a school where he would be trained to both use his quirk and what to do when he cant use it. just saying "well he wasnt good at fighting before he got in" is a terrible argument. i agree with a lot of the rest of the post, but that one part baffled and irritated me.

I think Hitoshi’s biggest flaw is that the world building around him sucks. Had he been shown to train and still failed and had we actually been showed that he’s been bullied, his anger would’ve been justified or at least understandable/sympathetic. Instead we have… nothing, which makes him seem like he’s throwing a temper tantrum and/or comes off as entitled. On paper, he’s not a bad character whatsoever, and the same goes for Shota. The main issue with both characters comes from how they’re executed and how they mesh with the world they’re in.

[wc-confessions]

TPB is my favorite series like the basic ass mf I am but. BUT. It also contains one of my biggest personal pet peeves in all of Warrior Cats. Which is saying A Lot with how botched this series’s writing is is in places.

Nightpelt not getting his nine lives while Tigerstar does??? Make it make sense. Genuinely what the fuck Starclan. We know they knew exactly how Tiger would turn out but somehow decided that poor Nightpelt, who was just trying to guide his fractured and weak clan through Brokenstar’s wake, and through even more tragedy and misfortune afterwards, wasn’t worthy enough Apparently. What did Night even do for them to hold him in such contempt? Besides *checks notes* being middle-aged and having a chronic illness?

There’s the fact that Brokenstar was still alive and on his last life yeah, but so was Pinestar when he left Thunderclan and that didn’t seem to be an issue other than Sunstar only getting eight lives (which is still way better than no extra lives). Brokenstar also broke the Warrior Code seven ways to Sunday before being exiled so it feels weird for them to still have recognized his authority.

For a long time my headcanon was that Starclan didn’t *actually* give Tiger his nine lives, he lied about it when he became Shadowclan’s leader, and when Scourge killed him, it was his one single life ending in such a jarring and gory way that it just *looked like* he died nine times in a row. Even if it was kind of flimsy, it was still more acceptable than what canon said.

With what has been written since though, this headcanon falls apart pretty badly. First, Tiger’s destiny to be evil - even if there’s a strong argument to be made that it was a self-fulfilling prophecy by how adults like Pinestar, Goosefeather, Thistleclaw, etc acted around him or directly treated him as he came of age - has been known about from his birth to the point where they tried to get his own father to commit infanticide! Starclan has had plenty of time to communicate amongst themselves about it, let alone watch over what has been happening to all the living and recently-deceased cats.

Second, we see Tiger’s nine lives ceremony. While we only know the backstories and full motivations of a couple of these characters, there are at least nine named cats who support him being leader enough to grant him a life. Even though these lives are meant to symbolically help in areas he’s lacking, and could be read as just acting in the best interest of the living cats within the leadership decision already being made as opposed to meddling in it… why didn’t they offer Nightpelt the same chance? Why weren’t they like “here’s the areas you need to work on and the life lessons you need to learn, and we’ll respect the circumstances created by the living” to him, too?

The only answer that feels somewhat satisfactory to me is that Starclan isn’t a hivemind and that while many of the cats were cheering during Tiger’s ceremony, cats like Redtail and Goosefeather were in a corner somewhere bashing their heads against a metaphorical wall.

Content warning for US politics ahead.

This also relies on Starclan Tiger supporters to be the Warrior Cats equivalent of Trump voters. Maybe not all of them are bad people but they are at least very easily manipulated into the ideal image of making their nation “strong again,” and are emotionally pulled in by the idea of someone who isn’t going to take shit standing up for “normal people” who they perceive to be like themselves, and are willing to put a vocal bully with a history of opportunistic, shady, and malicious behavior in a seat of power to make that happen. I could see Badgerfang falling into this camp. We know he’s just a kid who was forced into combat too young and that he isn’t a dick but is a victim of circumstance and had his worldview colored by the adults around him. He could have a more optimistic view of Tiger as someone who isn’t going to take shit from another Brokenstar, while simultaneously having a blind patriotic streak because again he was just a child and doesn’t know better than to question the system even if it failed him (based on how he describes his own death as giving his life up for his clan). Someone like this could easily be sucked into wanting the “strong” leader over the one they perceive as “weak” even if the “weak” candidate is more qualified and responsible, or has a more appropriate personality for leadership. (Side tangent I wonder how much Starclan foresaw about how Tiger would die. “Beware small cats” is so… specific.)

Starclan isn’t just a handful of jingoistic Shadowclan cats (+ Pinestar), though. There still should have been enough vocal outcry to make it not seem so cut and dry with Nightstar/Tigerstar, with the information in canon that the reader does get.

I know I’m reading way too far into this silly series with its million plotholes and inconsistencies and retcons, but I just want some answers. Thank you if you endured my pet peeve Night/Tiger rant.

.

[angst-cravings]

let you break my heart again (1)

part 1.5 | part 2

summary: you're forced to come to terms with your feelings for matt murdock

pairing: matt murdock x reader

words: 2.5k

an: first fanfic, non-canon timeline, reader, Foggy, and Karen are unaware of Matt’s abilities, gender-neutral pronouns used for reader and ex, additional info in tags

cw: mild angst, slight explicit language, alcohol use, unrequited love (?)

One day I will stop falling in love with you. Someday, someone will like me like I like you.

You stand alone in your apartment, leaning against the countertop, sipping on coffee and eating pie from downstairs. Memories from Josie’s earlier tonight replay in your head. The gentle laughter of your friend Matt as your friends Foggy and Karen tease him over something you don’t even remember. You can’t help but smile at the thought, with a little bit of shame burning the back of your neck.  

You went to Columbia Law with your friend Foggy. You two had been best friends since you were young, and you two complimented each other perfectly. When he introduced you to Matt, he just became another puzzle piece that slotted perfectly into your friendship. 

It was nice to have friends that cared about you so much through law school, a time that you struggled with, as most students do. You were amazing, but it didn’t come to you naturally. Many nights were spent in the library with tears welling up in your eyes, and you nearly tore your hair out every night trying to wrap your head around the topics you were so passionate about. 

But they were always there for you. 

You wished that you could tell Foggy or Matt about what you had been going through lately, but you knew it would strain your relationship. You were hyper-aware that Foggy would be disappointed. He had always been scared that Matt would sweep you away from him. If you confessed these feelings to him, he’d be happy for you, but the tiniest part of him would be disappointed. You were his best friend, and although Matt had always gotten the girls, at least Foggy had the comfort that you never dated Matt.

To be fair, in law school, you didn’t have a crush on Matt. You two had flirted occasionally, but no more than you did any other guy at the bar you wanted free drinks from. But due to a recent breakup, your heart had started to flutter at things it never had before.

His smiles when one of his friends enters a room. His soft, bashful chuckles when one of you teases him. His tone when he shoots a comeback. His hand holding your arm as you guide him to his apartment. His arms wrapped around you when you need to cry.

You consider yourself lucky to have your ducks all in a row—except for this. You had your own firm with your best friends, defending the innocent like you had pledged to do when you were studying for the LSATs. You had a decent apartment for Hell’s Kitchen, right above a local bakery. Your life was pretty damn good, and you were fine this way. You didn’t want to do anything to fuck this up.

You knew Matt didn’t like you back. You’ve heard the way he’s felt about women before, and you knew it didn’t describe how he feels about you. The way he flirts with them is different from the way he flirts with you. 

Lately, he’s met women at Josie’s, and the morning after you’ll hear Foggy tease Matt about the tryst the night before. You’d analyze the way he talked to her, the way his body language shifted around her, and you knew that it wasn’t the way he treated you. You always go silent during the morning debriefs, just stirring your coffee, smiling, and nodding along. Then you’d go to your office and work on the case, and try to deny the jealousy you felt writhing in your stomach. 

A knock at the door snaps you back to reality. You walk to the door and open it up to Karen. Karen Page. She had quickly become one of your closest friends once she joined the firm. You had even coached her on her feelings for Matt, though at the time it didn’t pain you as much as it would now. 

“We need to talk.” She says to you, concern lacing her words. You had left Josie’s early, claiming a headache, and refusing to let anyone walk you home. Matt had slipped away from you three and started flirting with a beautiful woman, and you couldn’t handle it, not after such a hard and disappointing case. Karen knew you too well though. She probably left not too long after you did.

“Come in.” You gesture her through the doorway and shut it behind her.

“I just noticed for the first time tonight. How long have you liked him?” She slides her blazer off her body and lays it on one of your chairs before she sits down. You take a second to consider her question.

It could have been last week when you ran into him at the bakery below you. You four had gone there a few times, but you usually wouldn’t see your friends there since it was in the opposite direction from the office. You, however, went there every morning and picked up breakfast before heading to the office. You were checking your phone while waiting for your order, doing some research on your client before work when you heard Matt’s voice order some fresh bagels. Was he here for you? It wouldn’t make sense if he had come just for the bagels, there were bakeries closer to the office. Your heart skipped a beat at the thought. You looked up and saw him pay the cashier, and as he moved to wait for his order you walked over to him and greeted him.

“Matt, what are you doing here?”

“Getting bagels for everyone.” You watched as he turned his head towards you, your heart fluttering at the smile he gave you. 

“Foggy will be happy about that.” A soft chuckle fell from his lips.  

“No more joking that Landman & Zack was a better deal than us.” He gestured his cane to accent his point. Your orders came out at the same time as a fresh batch exited the oven. “Do you mind if I walk you to the office?”

You couldn’t help but tease him for the request. “Are you sure I won’t be the one leading you to the office?”

He feigned offense at your joke, “What are you insinuating? That I can’t handle myself? I’m a big boy, you know.” Your heart jumped at the way he teased you back. You scolded yourself. You reacted three times in just a few minutes to him. You silently thanked God that at least you could keep your physical reactions private, as they would immediately give you away. 

You put his hand on your arm, and you both started walking toward the office, chatting with each other about the cases on the docket. 

It could have been a few months ago when you and your ex had broken up. You two had fallen out of love, and it had been mostly mutual, but it still hurt to leave someone who had been your second half for such a long time. You had Foggy, Karen, and Matt over to your apartment later that night so you could drink your sorrows away. They all had taken turns making fun of your ex, saying that they weren’t right for you, that you deserved better. You knew this wasn’t true, but you still smiled appreciatively at the gesture. Karen was the first to leave, she had an investigation she wanted to get an early start on the next morning. Then Foggy left, he was going to have a meeting with a client and he wanted to get a full night’s rest. They left just the two of you in your apartment sitting on your couch with beers in hand. 

“Fuck them.” You faked your anger, knowing it felt better than sadness. You paused and sat as the alcohol coaxed you into spilling your real feelings. “I loved them. So much. I can’t believe it’s just over.” He moved closer to you to place a hand on your shoulder.

“I know. Breakups are hard, especially when you both love each other. But you'll push through. You’re an amazing person. You’re one of the strongest people I know. One of the best.” Matt’s words were reassuring, but they just caused tears to form in your eyes. 

“...Can I hug you?” Your eyes started overflowing as you made this simple request.

“Of course.” He set both of your beers down on your coffee table and moved closer to you to scoop you into his arms. Your head and hand rested against his chest as you let the tears fall. You felt bad from soaking his nice button-up, but your sadness overpowered your reservations. You two stayed like this for a while, and you took comfort in the way he rubbed circles into your shoulder and the gentle rhythm of his heart. 

You felt comfortable with him in a way you didn’t with anyone else. Not Karen, not Foggy, not even your ex. 

It could have been about a year ago. You and Matt had gone on a trip to a nearby state for a case that you were working on. Although he was being tried in New York, your client was being held in a prison in Detroit temporarily. Foggy and Karen stayed back to hold the fort and work on other cases while you two spent a few days in Detroit. The drive was painfully long, and at the end of the day, you couldn’t wait to stretch your legs and walk around. You had to guide Matt, something you haven’t had to do in recent times. He hasn’t been somewhere that he didn’t know like the back of his hand in a while, and you relished the feeling of his hand on your arm.

You had booked a hotel room for the two of you, with two queens. However, when you checked in, your heart sank. 

“I’m sorry, but due to a shutdown in our system, we are overbooked. We tried to contact everyone affected, but I guess you must have missed it. We have a room available with a single king though, will that be alright?”

Matt immediately spoke up. “That will be alright, thank you.” You frowned, wishing he had maybe consulted you. 

After checking in, you two walked to your hotel room. “How did you know I would be okay with this?” You could hear the slight tinge of annoyance in your voice.

“I was going to sleep on the floor. You’ll get the whole bed to yourself, your partner won’t have anything to worry about.” Did you imagine the disdain in his voice?

“No, I can’t let you do that. I can sleep on the floor, or we can share the bed. We’ve done it before at Columbia, it’s purely platonic. They’ll understand.” You opened the door to the hotel room and then closed it behind the two of you. You gently guided Matt around the room and described the locations of everything to him, followed by descriptors of appearance.

After guiding him around, you took a shower and changed into your pajamas. “So am I sleeping on the floor? Or are we sharing the bed?”

Matt grabbed the pillows off of the bed and placed them on the floor. “I don’t want to make you or your partner uncomfortable. I’ll sleep on the floor, I’ll be fine.” You shook your head and picked up the pillows.

“It’ll be fine. Let’s share the bed.” Your heart rate rose at the thought, and you thanked God that Matt couldn’t see you blush. You had a partner, one you loved very much. You shouldn’t be thinking this way. 

Matt changed and slid onto his side of the mattress, leaving plenty of room between the two of you. You fell asleep watching his face and hoped that in the morning, your heart would return to normal. You woke up like you often did at Columbia, in his arms. Platonically. 

It could have been a few years ago. It was right after you all got the news that you passed the bar. You had gone to a bar to celebrate, and you had taken a few too many shots. Foggy and Matt insisted on walking you home, and you leaned on the two of them to keep your balance. Every time you saw someone while walking home, you cheered “We passed the bar!!” and if the person was nice, they’d smile, or maybe even cheer with you. As you stumbled, Matt kept a steady grip on your hand. Even in your drunken stupor, you blushed and pushed away the thought immediately.

“You guys are the best. I love you two.” You slurred as you made it to the front door of your apartment.

“I love you too! You’re the best friend a guy could ever ask for,” Foggy said in a voice that was a little too loud for the time of day, “Except for maybe you Matt!”

Matt laughed. His beautiful laugh. “No, I think you’re right. They are the best friend a guy could ask for.” You suddenly stand up straight after leaning on Matt, your face dangerously close to his. Maybe you imagined it in a drunken haze, but you could have sworn that Matt blushed. You shook the thought away and made space between the two of you. 

“Do you two want to come in?” You asked as you fumbled with your keys, missing the lock a few times. 

“I should probably be going to bed. Thanks for the invite though! I will see you soon!” Foggy walked away from your door without Matt, though you know he won’t go far without him.

Matt stepped closer to you, mimicking the distance you had placed between the two of you earlier. A blush crept up your face. “Goodnight. Congratulations again. You’re going to be an amazing lawyer.” He placed a hand on your cheek. You could feel your heart pound in your chest. 

“You too.” You whispered back. You quickly turned and walked into your apartment before you made a mistake that sober you would regret in the morning.

You never had a crush on him in law school. Or maybe that was a lie you told yourself to save your friendships. It could have been that you had a crush on him from the first moment you saw him. From the first moment you saw red light dancing on his face from his glasses. From the first moment you saw his smile. Fuck.

“I don’t know,” You picked at your pie, and paused, “Maybe I’ve fallen for him every day since I met him.”

Until then, I’ll drink my coffee, eat my pie, pretend that we are more than friends.

Then of course I’ll let you break my heart again.

part 1.5 | part 2

[stargirlie25]

Ok scrolling through acotar tiktok KILLS ME. Its not the og tiktok with cool edits of ships that you prefer its just pure toxic hate.

Like me, you might have noticed there are few and few Gwynriel/elucien content then Elriel content. I don´t believe it is because they dont ship these ships anymore i think its because they are tired.

When i was neutral (about a year ago) on the ships wars, i would CONSTANTLY see Elriels being so confident about their ship and how acosf pointed to an elriel endgame. I had not read acosf by then and when i did+ the bc i didn´t hate elriel i just started to love Gwynriel.

Sometimes sarah likes to put positive factors on a ship, like something beautiful without there having to be a whole theory. Because sarah does not expect her readers to be theorists. She wants them to laugh,cry,giggle,scream. etc. So when she was writing the BC which according to elriels are not important she probably wanted us to look at Gwyn and Azriel and consider her obvious wording and differences between elriel and gwynriel. According to elriels the BC isnt important and does nothing to contribute into plots,but also it introduces Gwyns lightsinger powers? Whatever that is not even my point right now. My point is, at first glance at the BC everybody should be more positive towards Gwynriel. SJM put out a free bonus chapter. Why should something heavy like a characters powers be in there? Its supposed to be a light hearted thing. Im just tired of Elriels saying we are delusional or our ship is a crackship.

I never hated Elriel before. All the anti elriel stuff i have mentioned is everything i was already aware of before ´´hating´´ elain and az together. I was still neutral even with all those negavtives.

Its the fandom that made me turn around and choose Gwynriel. I noticed Gwynriel and Elucien content was much more surrounding pro content for their ship and cute headcanons,cannons,edits,fanarts etc. It rarely EVER mentioned anti Elriel information. Except the elriel content then and now, all revolves around Gwynriel and Elucien. Instead of promoting their ship, they have to tear down our ships and say we are crazy.

It was like: Elriel vs Gwynriel and it said that gwynriel was fanon and elriel was canon. Thats´ just false but i understand i cant change that which i dont mind but why scream about it to my face? I saw people bullying Gwyn and saying she was faking her trauma,lured in hyberns men or was evil for the sake to uplift elriel/elain. I saw people bully emerie too calling her a crippled fake illyrian and how it was stupid for emerie to win the blood rite against her cousin. Or how somehow emerie was a b*tch and does not deserve to be a valkyrie+ nesta and gwyn. I saw people make edits to uplift Elain and hate Gwyn. I witnessed people dismissing Luciens trauma and comparing him to his father. I saw people say he faked the bond to protect tamlin or what not. I saw people make up theories for Clotho saying she was odd because she said she was going to give Gwyn the necklace but probably didnt....

That was my last straw. So yes naturally i did in fact shift to the Gwynriel/elucien side. It was easier. Instead of the bullies i saw cute videos of ´´Azriel and Gwyn singing´´ or ´´Elain and lucien picking flowers´´ it was all just so lighthearted and beautiful.

Although i think the fandom for G/A and E/L decreased because they are tired. Because i was tired too. I did not even want to enter acotar tiktok because i knew we would all be bashed for it. Dont get me wrong i find myself sometimes leaving comments on Elriel videos. Not the ones with a cute edit or fanart the ones the share false information or something i disagree with. I only hope for a civil talk and next thing i know, there is a whole gang of elriels trying to push their narrative on me without listening.

Honestly the ship wars have always existed but before Elucien was the calmer side. Although sadly they got roped into the mess of the G/A vs, A/E wars. WIthout a doubt on every single Elucien video, elriels never miss a step. It would be a cute video like a fanart of them and they will start being like ´´ElAinS So UNComFOrtabLE aROUnd hiM´ like you guys ask us why we ship elucien when mentioning this but its like you dont even want an answer you just want to disagree. We tell you and you flat out ignore it.

As much as i love Gwynriel/Elucien i cant help but miss the days were reading ACOTAR was for all the characters. When it was just to see my favorites like Nesta. When i just desperately wanted to get to the iconic epic scenes.

I know if e/riel was confirmed, Elriels would firstly shove it in Eluciens and gwynriels faces and then maybe celebrate the characters.

I know Gwynriels/eluciens would too and i honestly want to see none of that. Yes i do believe we are getting Gwynriel/Elucien but i would not want to make people feel bad for their ship. They by all means can still love elriel. So many people like feylin,nesris,Aelin x chaol,aelin x dorain, and obviously aelin x sam (my endgame if rowan never existed) dramoine,klaroline,stelena,stiles x malia, Jelly,Bellarke,clexa,Rory x those 4 other guys etc etc.

Main point, Can we all just do better? Yes i am talking about elriels for my sake and lots of others peoples sakes but to everyone PLEASE.

I know that wont work though even if i say it because im only one human hahah

What im going to say is we should tag all our posts to our preferred ship and probably always put anti to the ship we dont like. That way everything is divided and less toxic. Also i will be tagging nothing to do with ship wars because i want everyone to see haha but please be nice!

This is just my experience btw im sure Elriels have has their fair treatment of toxic Gwynriels/Eluciens