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villain-sympathizer · 2 years

Text

》》 – Breaking Point – 《《

[Skeptic x GN!Reader] [NSFW]

[A gift for @thotsforvillainrights ! Sorry this took so damn long lmao]

────── ･｡ﾟ: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ･ ──────

[Summary: After an absolute hellish day juggling two corporate jobs and dealing with incompetent morons, Skeptic ends up snapping during a tiny spat with his partner. But he snaps in an unpredictable and rather… pleasant way, that turns out to be helpful for both parties.]

[Word Count: 3,673]

[AO3 Mirror]

────── ･｡ﾟ: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ･ ──────

[Notes: I write xReaders a bit differently, since I don’t like reading them with “me” in mind, but rather an OC, so I prefer to write in third person (or semi-third person? I’ve been told I flip flop a lot between third and second person) and FULLY gender neutral. Meaning I don’t use any feminine/masculine pronouns, descriptions, or genital terms if applicable. That way anyone can read it and feel included, especially if you’re like me and you feel weird inserting yourself into a characters life cause you know they just wouldn’t like you, but you have OCs who fit the bill.]

[Content warnings: Explicit NSFW content, like seriously Skeptic gets FERAL; gender neutral pronouns and genital terms, so sorry if they seem repetitive; dom reader; consensual sex; Skeptic’s so horny he becomes insanely submissive lmao; Skeptic’s incredibly stressed and pent up so he’ll be a lil mean and snippy in the beginning, but I promise he turns into a total simp who worships his partner.]

Tack-a, tack-a, tack-a, tack-a.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

“Hanabata, your speech yesterday was amazing as always!”

“Thank you, sir!”

Tack-a, tack-a, tack-a, tack-a.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

The clicks of multiple keyboards. The clock’s incessant, never-ending ticking. His coworkers chatter shouted across the room as each of them cross his office’s path. All of it was typical of Tomoyasu’s work day, but after the horrendous morning he was subjected to hours earlier, it was becoming the final straw – threatening to break his metaphorical camel’s back. He loathed the few days every other month where he had to personally take time out of his busy, swamped schedule to make sure the new hires and trainees were doing things correctly and efficiently. Everyone was highly skilled and efficient in their work, Detnerat wouldn’t have it any other way, yet nothing was ever good enough for Tomoyasu. Re-Destro constantly rejected his pleas to just have him create puppets to work for the company, saying that it didn’t feel right, especially when they had so many talented citizens in Deika willing to work with them.

“Puppets don’t need payroll,” Tomoyasu mumbled bitterly to himself, hunched over his desk, typing quickly on his laptop, code that has since become mere muscle memory to him. “Puppets don’t need breaks. They don’t need socialization. They don’t need constant instruction. They don’t need vacations, unions, training, paid time off, medical leave, nothing!” He hisses, another vein growing on his forehead as his typing speeds up. Blinded by his sheer anger, Tomoyasu felt his ring finger slip against one of his keys, accidentally pressing the ‘3’ key when he meant to press the ‘E’ key.

That was his last straw, his metaphorical camel’s back was nothing but dust in that instant. He slams his laptop closed, a disgruntled shout leaving him as he does so, and proceeds to shove the device and other files he was looking over earlier under his arm. With frantic movements, desperate to get the hell out of this building, Tomoyasu shoves his chair back and marches out of his plainly-decorated office. Other workers in their cubicles glanced up at him, as well as the occasional MLA members who happened to be walking by, their eyes trained on him as he storms off to the double glass doors at the front of the room.

“Oh, uh… have a good day, then, Skeptic,” Re-Destro says to him as the other passes by his spot next to Hanabata, the two of them chatting next to a coffee machine. “Shut up,” Tomoyasu responded sharply, his irritation obvious with the way he acted so bluntly to his Grand Commander. Luckily, Re-Destro simply chuckled, letting the taller man continue to the doors. For the first time that day, a hush falls over the office space, yet it only served to piss him off more. With one arm pushing one of the glass doors to the hallway open, Tomoyasu turns his upper body back towards the cubicles.

“GET BACK TO WORK!”

---

The train ride home was almost equally as agonizing, despite not actually having to talk to anyone. It was packed, noisy, and in his already hypersensitive state, he swore he could still hear the shrill screech of the trains bearings in his ears as he enters the apartment he shared with his partner. It was moderately sized, and originally decorated in minimalist, luxury furniture – and it still is, but the space had collected more ‘homey’ items and such ever since his partner moved in. Tomoyasu didn’t mind, as he spent most of his time in the home office anyway, so his partner was free to decorate the apartment as they see fit. Besides, he loved them, and thus trusted their interior design choices.

Speaking of his partner, the dark-haired man found [Name] waiting in the living room, typing away at something on their laptop, the news playing quietly on the T.V for background noise. On any normal day Tomoyasu would have joined them and begun work on his own device, but today all he wanted was for everything to just stop. His partner doesn’t know that, he knows they don’t know that, but he still can’t stop himself from snapping at them. Not even their warm, welcoming smile stopped him from making the first mistake of the night.

“Oh, Tomo, you’re home early! How was-“ They began, before other cut them off.

“Will you cease that racket?” Tomoyasu used what little self-restraint he had left in him to keep his voice from raising like it had back at the offices, instead it came out in a restrained snarl.

Immediately, [Name]’s composure changed from that of excited to something like apprehension, the look on their face something Tomoyasu knew well – they we’re assessing him, taking in his posture and tone to determine the correct way of responding to him to avoid conflict as much as they could. In the workspace, Tomoyasu would have been proud to have conditioned that into his subordinates, but in this case… it only made him realize how much he really did need anger management. He didn’t want his significant other to walk on eggshells with him constantly, and he’s been getting better at controlling his temper at home, saving his frustrations for when he can yell and berate employees at work instead. But not at home. Not with [Name]. Unfortunately, today seemed to be one of the bad days.

“Tough day?” They offer after a moment of thought, a sympathetic look crossing their face as they turn the T.V off and save the work on their laptop before closing it. “Do you wanna talk about it? Rant a bit?”

Teeth grinding and veins popping against his forehead, Tomoyasu tosses his messenger bag to the side and slams his laptop on a nearby table. “No,” he snaps. “What I want is a hot shower, dinner, and to go to bed for once. I just want peace and quiet.” It wasn’t a lie, but it also wasn’t the full truth. He omitted the parts that included ‘with you’ at the end of each item on that list, too caught up in his focus to not completely blow up at them to voice his true wants.

[Name]’s brows furrow in concern for a moment, but a teasing smile creeps up on their face. ‘Don’t say anything, don’t do it,’ Tomoyasu thinks to himself, already knowing he won’t be able to stop himself from barking insults at them if the other chooses to taunt him. ‘Just leave it at that, please, dear.’ But of course, the universe wasn’t on his side. It never was.

“What? Tomoyasu Chikazoku, willingly going to bed? Early no less?” They teasingly grin at him, hoping their attempt to humor him would help the taller man feel at least a little better. And on any other day, it just might have. But not today.

Tomoyasu was screaming at himself in his head not to respond, not to make it worse, not to hurt their feelings. [Name] didn’t deserve it, they never deserved his wrath, not after everything they’ve done for him. Yet, no matter how hard he clenched his fists and bit his tongue, nothing was able to stop the next few words that would seal both their fates that night:

“That goes for you, too, brat.”

Their reaction was immediate, and just at painful to watch as Tomoyasu knew it would be. The look of shock, followed quickly buy hurt and dejection made his stomach twist with regret. Now he had another thing to add to the list of shit that was feeding into his bad day. He didn’t need to add on the insult, didn’t need to drag them into this, didn’t even need to speak at that point. He could have just stormed off to take his shower and likely would have emerged feeling far less stressed, less irritable, and more likely to actually confine in his partner about his day. He’s so used to having to fix everything, that for once, he never knew he could mess something up so badly – and so quickly, too.

“Okay, that tone is definitely not needed, and neither was the name calling,” [Name] responds as they stand up, voice having lost its warm, teasing tone, now replaced with something more firm. More offended. They made their way over to him, effectively blocking his path toward the bedroom that he was making as he snapped at them. Tomoyasu apparently loved digging his own grave, because in an act of petty defiance, he shoved his shoulder against them so he could push past.

He ate the poison, so he might as well lick the plate.

[Name] let out a grunt, both from surprise and the impact of his shoulder against them as he made his way past. This wasn’t the playful nudge to the shoulder that the two would usually give each other when they felt like pushing the others buttons a bit; little acts of flirting that would typically end with a few kisses to the forehead or cheek as they continued on with their task at hand. This was antagonizing, the kind of shove a bully would give someone when they wanted to start a fight. In this situation, it seemed like the taller man wanted just that.

“Tomo, what the hell is your problem today?” They called out, hurrying past the man to once again block his path to the bedroom. “I understand you get irritated at work often, but that’s no reason to take your aggression out on me when I’m just trying to help, asshole.”

Tomoyasu’s mind was surely screaming at him to just swallow his pride and apologize, that they’ll both work this out after he’s showered and eaten – but the ringing in his ears was drowning that voice out, which is probably why he decided to continue this unnecessary argument. “Maybe, I didn’t need your fucking help,” he bites back with, glaring down at them through his long bangs. “Maybe, I just needed some god damned peace and quiet like I fucking asked. Because maybe, you shutting the hell up was all the help I needed!” His voice was raising in volume, but he couldn’t stop himself, no matter how much he tried to halt the stream of insults pouring from his big mouth. The anger he stored away all day was finally bubbling back up at the worst time, making his skin flushed from the blood pumping to his head, and he hurriedly yanked off his jacket to try and cool himself down.

[Name]’s face scrunched up in distain, clearly used to the foul attitude of their lover, yet still hurt by the words thrown at them. “Why are you so scared of just talking things out? Why does it always have to be a fight with you?”

“Just let me take my damn shower already,” Tomoyasu grumbled, once again shoving past them to finally enter their shared bedroom. Discarding the jacket on the bed, he reaches down to remove his well-known turtleneck, strands of long hair falling around his shoulders before settling against his back again. If he had to argue with them while he showered, then so be it.

“Don’t avoid the question, Chikazoku,” [Name] spat out toward him, and Tomoyasu knew they meant business when they not only skipped past his nickname and his first name, and simply called him by his surname.

While aggressively searching for a towel within their dresser drawers, Tomoyasu finally spins around to face the other, towel clutched in a white-knuckle grip. “Oh, so we’re on formal terms now? Fine, two can play that game, [Last name]. Now get out of my way,” he snarls, marching past his partner towards the adjacent bathroom. But before he could reach it, they once again slipped past him, slamming the door shut before standing in front it, arms crossed.

“No, nuh-uh, you don’t get to just walk out of this, you dick,” they counter, glaring up at the taller man. “Just talk to me, will you? Tell me what’s got your panties wedged up your ass, then I’ll leave you alone. Deal?” [Name] offers, their voice noticeably softening toward the end of their sentence, obviously unwilling to keep up the fury of their spat.

A long, drawn-out growl is released from Tomoyasu’s chest, quickly growing in volume till it became a frustrated shout. “Okay! Fine, you wanna know why I’m so pissed?” He barks back at them, slamming the towel he was holding down on the ground. “Maybe it’s because I have to deal with idiots all damn day! Maybe it’s because I’m the only one in both Detnerat and Feel Good that actually knows how to run things! Maybe it’s because of those reasons that I’ve been strung so high that I can still hear their damn typing in my ears!” His tone would grow louder and quieter depending on the emphasis on the words, all the while his presence grew closer until [Name] found their back pressed against the bathroom door.

“And maybe…” Two hands slam against the door on either side of [Name]’s head, Tomoyasu’s face dipping down till it was right against his partner’s ear, voice now low and hushed. “Just maybe… I need some stress relief with my lover,” His breath was tickling the shell of their ear, making his partner shiver. “Whom I haven’t seen much at all these past few weeks.”

[Name] lets out a small, nearly inaudible breath, their hand reaching up to gently caress Tomoyasu’s bare side, invoking what sounded like a purr from the taller man. “I’ve missed you,” he continues, leaning down further to trail his lips across their neck, body moving forward to press against the others. “Missed all of you. Your voice, your touch, your mouth… your wet, tight heat…” Tomoyasu lets out a vague moan at his own words, getting lost in his thoughts. “Fuck, I need you so badly.”

A hand snakes around Tomoyasu’s back, grabbing a fistful of black hair and tugging his head up to face [Name]’s own. The action was received with a choked sound of pleasure from Tomoyasu, his hips bucking forward from the simple action. “Then you can have me, baby,” They mumble against his lips, before they were engulfed by a much larger pair. The kiss was sloppy, feverish, and incredibly needy. Tomoyasu had never been one for foreplay, given his impatient nature, and because of that it was always to tease him and see how far [Name] could push the man before he went absolutely mad with want – and today, it seemed like they could drive him totally delirious.

With the hand that was still buried in Tomoyasu’s hair, [Name] forced the other’s head to jerk backward with a swift tug, grinning at the vague whimper the man responded with. “Down, boy,” they chuckle lowly, the hand that was once tangled in his hair now returning to brush the cover of his bangs away, revealing dark circles beneath near blood-shot eyes. “Why don’t we move this to the bed first, hm?” Without waiting for a response, [Name]’s hand trails down his face gently, reaching his clavicle before lightly pushing him backward toward the bed. Tomoyasu easily folded to their touch, walking backward on wobbly legs, never taking his eyes off of them even as he tumbles backward onto the bed.

[Name] took a moment to admire their boyfriend: Deep, black hair fanned outward on each side of him; a blush spread across his neck and upper chest, growing deeper by the minute; his already labored breathing, a futile method of trying to cool himself down; and of course, the prominent tent in his pants. It was rare they ever got to see Tomoyasu so disheveled, and this may be the first they’ve ever seen him desperate. “Look at you…” [Name] coos, running their hands town the others chest as they seat themselves on his thighs, just millimeters away from coming in contact with his erection. As their fingers trail down his stomach, his breath hitches and the muscles flutter beneath their touch. The best part, though, was how the taller man’s cock throbbed hard enough for [Name] to feel the fabric around it shift. “I’ve barely touched you,” they snickered, their fingers trailing back upward to his neck, hands cupping his jaw as they lean down to his lips. “And yet you feel like you’re already about to cum in your pants. Maybe if I play my cards right,” they plant a sweet kiss to his lips. “You just might.” The words sent a shiver down Tomoyasu’s spine, his hips shifting upward in an attempt to gain friction against his partner.

“Ah, ah, ah,” [Name] chastises him, lifting their hips away from his to keep the other from grinding against them, earning an irritated groan from the man beneath them. “Use your words, Tomo. What is it that you want, baby?”

“You,” Tomoyasu croaked out, his voice strained with how much effort it was taking him to speak a fluent sentence. “I want you. N-Need you…” He’s able to push the words out, turning his head so he could nuzzle against one of the palms that was holding his jaw.

[Name] raises an eyebrow, their thumb gently running along his lips. “Need me for what?”

An embarrassed whine escapes Tomoyasu, teeth clenched as his mouth tries to form the words his brain had been screaming since he trapped them against the bathroom door: ‘Make me cum, make me cum, make me cum-‘

“Pl-please, just- make me cum, fuck, please-!” He pleads, hips rutting upward against nothing, trying desperately to feel his lover’s touch against him.

Hearing Tomoyasu, the elusive, strong-willed, and callous Skeptic of the Paranormal Liberation Front, whine and beg? Completely unprompted? Well, of course [Name] had to treasure this moment for as long as possible, because there’s no telling if he’d ever do this again, judging by the intense blush covering his face and ears from his embarrassment. Deeming that as enough torture for their ailing boyfriend, [Name] lowers their hips again, taking a seat directly on top of Tomoyasu’s straining erection. His response was immediate, hips rocking upward to grind against [Name] in quick, stuttered thrusts that held no pattern. Clearly desperate for release, Tomoyasu wasted no time in grabbing at his partner’s waist, holding them down as his cock throbbed against their core with each frantic rut.

[Name] lets out a surprised inhale, the sound quickly dissolving into one of pleasure, an amused chuckle layered in with it. “Look at you, so desperate and horny,” they coo teasingly, leaning down to press a sloppy kiss to their lover’s lips, the other immediately accepting their tongue down his throat. When [Name] pulled back after a few moments, they wasted no time in moving their spit-coated lips to Tomyasu’s jaw, hastily peppering open-mouthed kisses downward until they were near the base of his throat. “I can feel your cock throbbing, even through your clothes. If I knew you’d be this pent up, I’d have you strap a bullet vibe to your dick to wear all day,” they mumble against his skin, giving small bites and nips to his reddened skin. “Forced to cum again, and again, and again. Maybe then you’ll think twice before snapping at me,” their words are enforced with a harsh bite to his neck, causing Tomoyasu to lurch his hips harder, a choked gasp leaving him. His grip on his partners waist loosened as his arms reached upward, one wrapping around to grip onto their back, while the other tangled itself in their hair, keeping their head firmly in place as he released stuttered moans and keens.

“’M close, ‘m…close…!” Tomoyasu breathes out with a struggle, already feeling the immense amount of precum leaking from his cock soaking through the fabric of his pants. [Name] grins, placing a soothing kiss to his bite mark.

“Then cum, baby,” they muttered in a low, coo-like tone, their lips latching onto another part of his neck to suck a dark hickey onto the skin there.

In an instant, Tomoyasu threw his head back with a guttural cry, hips stilling from their frantic motions as he finally cums for the first time in seemingly weeks. [Name] could already feel the thick liquid seep through to their own clothes, making them shiver and moan from the sheer amount of it. Once the peak of his climax subsided, Tomoyasu curled back inward against his partner as he rode out the aftershocks of such an intense orgasm, face tucked securely in the crook of their shoulder and neck as his body trembles every now and then.

[Name] peppers sweet kisses against Tomoyasu’s temple as their partner comes down from his high, soothing his hair while he calms his breathing. Once he finally got a hold of his nerves again, his body relaxes backward as his frame falls against the bed, bangs sticking to his sweaty forehead and hiding the dazed look in his eyes.

“That…that was… I- fuck…” Tomoyasu attempts to form some kind of sentence, but ultimately gave up when [Name] began snickering at his struggle with vocabulary, earning them a poor attempt at a menacing glare that seemed more like a pout instead. “Not a word of this to anyone, understand?”

[Name] gives him a teasing grin, moving off of his legs to flop next to him on the bed. “You’re typically the one to boast about getting laid, not me,” they counter, brushing his damp bangs away from his still flushed face so they could kiss his forehead and nose. “But don’t worry, I tooootally won’t tell anyone you jizzed in your pants just from grinding against me,” a sarcastic tone overlayed their response, leading Tomoyasu to become skeptical.

“I’m warning you, [Name]. Keep your mouth shut.”

His lover’s grin turns almost sinister, their form looming over him as their lidded eyes gazed down at him in challenge.

“Make me.”

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #skeptic x reader #tomoyasu chikazoku #tomoyasu chikazoku x reader #dame writes #nsft #smut #smut writing

73 notes · View notes

bakubabes-tatakae · 4 years

Note

Congrats on 4K bbe! You deserve ALL the love and support! Your writing is👌 I unfortunately missed your 1k so can I please have Isaac Foster NSFW alphabet? Thank you sooo much❤️❤️❤️

Thank you so much bby. 🥺❤️ I’m always happy to write for this maniac. I hope you enjoy them. 👏

Event Masterlist

NSFW Below 👇

A (Aftercare)

Zack might not seem like the most lovey of people, but that’s where you’d be wrong. If there’s anything that Zack Foster loves after a roll in the hay it’s cuddling after. This man makes sure that you’re comfortable and doesn’t ever want to let go of you. No matter how rough the two of you might get, he wants to make sure that you’re in his arms when it’s all said and done.

B (Body Part)

His favorite part of your body is going to be your ass. Isaac Foster is an ass man, there’s no denying that at all. He loves the way it looks when it walks in front of him or the way it looks as he’s pounding himself into you from behind. And don’t think you’re getting past this man without a firm smack to it nearly every time.

C (Cum)

If there’s one thing that Isaac Foster has a lot of... it’s cum. This man’s favorite place to put it is right on your chest. He absolutely loves the way that you look with his seed all over you. And it’s even better for him if some makes it to your face.

D (Dirty Secret)

Zack isn’t one for secrets, you’ll know pretty much everything about him. The dirtiest secret this man has is probably the fact that he’s nearly always picturing you naked. He was locked up in that building for so long without seeing someone of the opposite sex that it’s just a habit for him now.

E (Experience)

If experience is a deal breaker for you than Zack is not the guy. This man is pretty much a newbie when you meet him. He’s never really gotten any experience with anything but his hand. If you’re looking for a wild night right from the start then you’ve got another thing coming. He’s gonna need some time to get the hang of things first.

F (Favorite Position)

With his almost animalistic side Zack much prefers doggy style. He loves to be able to run his hands down your back and grip your hair. It gives him perfect leverage to reach down and tease you a little bit while he ruthlessly rolls his hips into you. He loves the way it looks when he wraps his hand around your throat and pulls you up against him, pressing your body to his chest.

G (Goofy)

Zack is most definitely not a goofy guy in bed. He’s got one goal and one goal only... getting the two of you to your release. He’ll focus more on making sure that you get your world rocked, but don’t think he wont go back to himself once he gets you there.

H (Hair)

Isaac Foster is not much of a groomer. When he was trapped in that building he never really had any means of making sure that happened so he’s now used to that. He wouldn’t object to it if you were to mention it to him, but he’s most definitely not going to take that upon himself.

I (Intimacy)

Once Zack gets used to a person and really starts to fall head over heels he’s going to be a very intimate person in bed. He’ll want to make sure that he tells you a thousand times that he loves you or how beautiful you look while you get your insides rearranged. He’s never one to keep the compliments away while you’re in private.

J (Jack Off)

Before he met you the only thing that this man had to do in his lonesome was jack off. He would multiple times a day just to pass the time. So when you meet him, he’s definitely got control on how long he’s going to last in a round. He’s not going to be able to break that habit easily either, so every chance that he gets when you leave he’ll probably have his hand wrapped around it.

K (Kink)

If you weren’t aware, Isaac Foster has a fascination with knives and sharp things. Don’t think for a second that it isn’t going to transfer into his sexual life. This man loves the way you look as he slowly slides the knife across your skin, the cool metal causing shivers to run through your whole body. He’d never actually harm you with them, just likes the way you squirm when he plays around with them.

L (Location)

This man’s libido is out of control. There’s no place that he wont have a little fun with you. It doesn’t matter where you are, if he’s got the urge he’s going to pull you aside and fuck you against a wall. He’s very fond of finding a secluded place where there’s a chance of getting caught. He wants the whole world to know who you belong to.

M (Motivation)

It doesn’t take much to get him going, but if you really want to do it in as little time as possible than the best way to do that is by wearing tight pants around him. He’s a sucker for the way they accent all your curves. He’ll want to maul you in an instance.

N (No)

The only thing that Zack will probably say no to, is anything that involves him being the one being penetrated. He’s pretty open about the rest of the sexual world. He’s willing to try anything once and he’ll be sure to tell you how he feels about it after. And the thing you want to avoid that will turn him off is when you complain too much. He’s definitely not a fan of that. He knows that life is rough, but he can’t help but think of that things that he’s gone through in his life and compare them.

O (Oral)

Once he gets the hang of it, Zack is going to be a very big fan of both giving and receiving oral. He loves the way that you look with your head between his legs and he loves to watch you squirm with your ass in the air as he licks your core, hitting all the right places.

P (Pace)

There’s one thing that Isaac Foster is not good at, and that’s doing anything slow. He loves to watch you writhing underneath him as he ignores all your pleas to slow down. He might be quick, but he’s always sensual at the same time. He wants you to know that he loves and appreciates you at the same time as he gives you the ride of your life.

Q (Quickie)

Zack is a huge fan of the quickie. If you let him get quickies in throughout the day that just means less time he has to spend with his cock in his hand. Once he gets that urge he’s got to satisfy it, whether it’s by himself or with you. It’s happening and he’s got no control over it.

R (Risk)

He’s pretty experimental when it comes down to it. There’s very little that Zack wont try and he’s not against being in public either. He hasn’t found much in his sexual life that he’s not alright with, even if that only means doing something once in a while.

S (Stamina)

I really hope that you’re prepared if you’re deciding to be with this man. He can go all night and last for what seems like forever. He’s trained himself to last longer than you’d expect. He wants to make sure you’ve come a couple of times before he even decides that he’s done. His control over that is incredible.

T (Toys)

Zack doesn’t own any toys himself, but he’s not against using any toys on you. He loves to watch as you come undone under your own toys, whether he’s the one in control of it, or you are. Just picture him licking his lips as he hovers over you, slowly pulling your toy in an out of you as you attempt to cover you face from him, the pure pleasure almost too much.

U (Unfair)

Zack loves to tease, but hates when it happens to him. He gets enough urges on his own, the last thing that he wants is someone else coming in and making them one hundred times worse. But he’s definitely always happy to tease you and see if he can get you going. He loves when you beg him.

V (Volume)

If you’re looking for a quiet partner than I think you need to look somewhere else. Zack never had a need to keep himself quiet when he was by himself, and he isn’t going to start now. Whether it’s grunts and groans coming from him or him asking you to be louder, it will never be silent in his bedroom. He loves to hear you and he loves to have you hear just how good you’re making him feel.

W (Wild Card)

Zack will never admit it to you, but he’s glad that if he were to meet anyone to learn all these experiences with... it’s you. And he knows that he plays it up sometimes when he’s acting clueless, but he’s not as clueless in certain departments as you think he is.

X (X-Ray)

As surprising as it will be to you, Zack is packing some heat. He’s long and wide and he knows how to use it. He loves when you comment on that fact, it’ll make him crawl in his skin with anticipation, or it will get him that much closer to his release.

Y (Yearning)

This mans libido is out of this world. He basically wants it 24/7, so don’t think for a second that if you ask he’ll say no. I don’t think he’s ever had a time in his life where he would say no. He’s always happy to oblige, especially to his woman.

Z (Zzz)

Zack has a lot of issues with sleep so sex before bed is a surefire way to get him to sleep. He usually falls asleep very shortly after a round in the sack. Either it takes away his stress, or just gives him that little boost of serotonin that he needs to get his mind to stop racing.

Taglist: @monic00l @strangeinternetwasteland @rowley-with-ackerman @chaoticsimptown @ellechanwrites @bonnisimpparker @impinthecloset

#isaac foster x reader #isaac foster x y/n #isaac foster x you #zack foster x reader #zack foster x y/n #zack foster x you #angels of death x reader #angels of death x y/n #angels of death x you #isaac foster headcanons #zack foster headcanons #angels of death headcanons #isaac foster smut #zack foster smut #angels of death smut #bakubabes hatake celebrates 4k

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the-little-ewok · 3 years

Note

✨for the pov fic ask, i would very much like to read that spelling scene from poe’s pov. don’t feel like you have to go full on smut—i just think his reaction would make for wonderful reading 😂

"Don't feel like you have to go full on smut..." Um... Enjoy your full on smut (I'm not sorry). And thank you for the request.

A Sincere Apology - Spelling lessons - From a certain point of view :

Poe Dameron X Fem Reader (Poe's POV) Rating: E Word count : 1400 (ish) Warnings: Explicit ; 18+ ; NSFW ; Oral (F/receiving)

Summary: This is a perspective re-write of the "Spelling scene" from A Sincere Apology showing the scene entirely from Poe's perspective for the A Certain Point of View requests : The scene is where Poe uses his tongue to write his name on you…. Very NSFW under the cut

(I would recommend reading A Sincere Apology before this but its not entirely necessary).

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Poe's heard of using the alphabet before, but he thinks that's boring. Who wants to go though the A,B,C's of Galactic Basic, when there are so many other words he could use? It would be much more fun to use a word you'll hear every day, something you'll have to write, something he can easily slip into conversations and watch you squirm. He asked you to let him apologise, to show you how sorry he was. And he will. But he didn't say he wouldn't have his own fun while doing it.

"I don't want you to cum yet. I want you to cum while I write my name with my tongue on your clit. Make you mine."

The noise you let out is possibly the most beautiful thing Poe has ever heard. The sound has a raw, primal need, and he can feel your muscles stiffen, your pussy clenching down on his unmoving fingers, desperate for him to give you what you want. He loves the fact that his words alone can bring that out of you.

"Please."

The way you beg drives him crazy. It makes him want to give in. He desperately wants to dive into you, to fuck you with his tongue, to press his fingers so deep inside you that you see stars, to watch your mouth fall open as you whine his name, your body trembling beneath him. He wants to ruin you in all the best possible ways, over and over. But he also wants to make things up to you. He wants you to remember this instead of the worry. He wants to erase every moment of hurt or stress he might have given you. He's going to give you a proper apology. The best you've ever had. And a proper, sincere apology can't be rushed.

His teeth graze lightly against the soft flesh of your thigh, as he curls his fingers inside you slowly, giving you just a little of what you need, feeling you tremble and hearing your breath catch.

"Poe… I swear..."

He knows you don't have the same patience he does—especially not since you haven't had a minute alone for days. He's just as desperate as you are, but he can hold out a little longer, just for this. Trust me, baby. This will be worth the wait. The thought makes him smirk to himself, before he gives in to your plea. He swipes his tongue across your clit, flattening it over the bundle of nerves and dragging it so slowly, so precisely, that you feel every single movement. Your whole body jolts with the sudden friction, and he grins, knowing what he can do to you, with so little.

"Your wish is my command." He smirks.

You can have anything you want. His eyes meet yours for just a brief moment, and he uses that exact second to slide his fingers out of you before thrusting them back in with an obscenely wet noise. Poe keeps his eyes on you, wanting to watch every second of your enjoyment, your eyes widening, your lips falling open to allow a loud moan to escape. Time to show you how truly sorry I am. His fingers keep a steady pace of thrusting into you, filling your tight, slick walls, as he dips his mouth down to your heated core. He watches as your head slams back onto the pillow, right as his tongue traces the P slowly across your clit, drawing a curse from you.

"Fuck!"

He notes the way your fingers curl in the sheets, knuckles going white as his fingers continue their quick pace, his tongue curling the O of his name, feeling your pussy clamping down. He can feel how close you're getting already, soaking his fingers as his tongue spells out the E, making sure you know exactly what he's doing, exactly what he's spelling. Poe is sure he can tell the exact moment you realise he's making good on his promise. He can tell by the way your whole body shudders with a desperate need, your walls fluttering against his fingers.

He adjusts the angle of his fingers just slightly, curling them inside you as he feels your legs start to tremble, a sure sign of how close you are to the edge. His tongue traces out the D as you pant and whine with need, your hips lifting to meet his mouth. You keep making noises like that, baby, and I'm gonna cum without you even touching me.

The A almost brings you over. He can hear the change in your breathing, feel the way your body stiffens in anticipation, your fingers almost ripping the sheets. He traces out the M devastatingly slowly, sending you falling deep over the edge into your climax. Poe doesn't stop there, his fingers continue to coax you through the high, wanting to keep you there as he continues. We aren't done yet, baby. He isn't going to leave this half finished. His tongue continues to write out the next E, listening to you whimper as you wiggle your hips. He knows the sensation is almost too much for you, but if this is going to be a proper apology, you're going to have to take it. Poe simply follows your movement before using one hand to press down lightly on your hip, giving just enough pressure to pin you to the mattress.

Keeping his mouth against your clit, so you feel every word and breath, he admonishes you softly. "Hold still. Don't want this R looking like a P, because then I'd have to start it again." Not that he would mind doing that—writing his name against your flesh, watching you fall apart over and over. I can do this all day for you if you want. I can make it so you'll never be able to spell my name again.

His fingers keep up the quick rhythm, thrusting into you steadily as he traces the R. He can already feel how close you are to the edge again. You tell him how close you are without speaking a word; he sees it in the whines and moans you're showering him with, the way your breath is shaky, the sheen of sweat on your trembling skin. He drags his tongue perfectly around your hardened nub, marking out the O. The noises you are making still do nothing to help his own need, and he's very much aware of how his cock is straining uncomfortably against his trousers.

He feels your climax just moments before it registers with you, right as his tongue swipes over the slope of the N. Your walls clamp down on his fingers, soaking them and the sheets below you, barely able to get a noise out as your whole body tenses.

Poe has never seen a more beautiful look on you, your head thrown back, eyes squeezed tight shut as every muscle in your body seizes. A whine of pleasure rips itself from your throat. He continues to curl his fingers deep inside you, finishing the N as slowly as he can, allowing you to ride out every trembling wave, committing every noise you make to memory.

He waits for you to calm a little, for your eyes to open and look down at him, framed between your thighs. This is his favourite look, he thinks. Nothing else will ever compare to seeing you this way, after you've fallen apart for him. Because of him.

When he's sure you're watching, he slowly removes his fingers, letting you feel every drag against your walls. Then holding your gaze steadily, he raises his fingers, dripping with your arousal, to his mouth and swirls his tongue around each digit, savoring every drop, before pressing them into his mouth with a groan. For Poe, nothing in the galaxy can come close to how good you taste. Nothing will ever be as sweet as you.

I could survive forever on the taste of you.

He hopes you understand now, how sorry he is, how much he regrets worrying you. Judging by the glazed look in your eyes as you blink back at him, obviously still lost in the clouds, he thinks maybe you do. Maybe he's done just enough.

Now, that is how you give a sincere apology, baby.

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Thank you for reading! These were incredibly fun to write and I am absolutely open to writing more point of view fics of my work if you'd like them.

Two Strike Three re-writes will be up soon! If you want to be on the taglist please drop me a comment or an inbox :)

Beta by the lovely @the-scandalorian

Taglist: @fisforfulcrum ; @the-scandalorian ; @salome-c ; @mypedrom ; @pumpkin-stars ; @zoriis ; @prettylilhalforc ; @jitterbugs927 ; @mbpokemonrulez ; @mandorush ; @fett-ching ; @one-hell-of-a-disappointment ; @lexloon

Still taking requests for Fluff prompts and From a certain point of view rewrites -(and anything else)

Please when making requests specify if you only want SFW

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x female reader #poe dameron x f!reader #poe dameron smut #poe dameron x you #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron #from a certain point of view #fic requests #star wars

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ymiwritesstuff · 3 years

Text

The Limits of a Hero

Hello hello, I’m here to bring you something rather special. A quick fun fact: When I started writing years ago, Link was actually the first character I ever wrote for, so this piece is sort of going back to my roots as a writer. That, and I’ve been in a HUGE Twilight Princess mood lately, (I recently bought a few volumes of the manga and I am very much enjoying it) so I thought I’d write this quick thing for my favorite incarnation of Link. I hope those of you who also like him will enjoy this.

The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess

Link x Reader

Summary: During a seemingly ordinary night out in the woods you decide to give the hero a much needed chance to rest.

Notes: Fluff, some light angst

The tree trunk felt rough against your back, but it provided a much-needed opportunity to finally rest and recollect your energy after yet another day of fighting against the twilight and its corrupt ruler. Yet you found a strange calm when surrounded by the night, the warm flames of the campfire swaying in the cool wind.

The wood crackled, the breeze howled and your eyelids grew heavy. You wouldn’t close them, however. Not yet. Instead, you kept your (E/C) eyes on the glowing fire, occasionally throwing in a stick or two to make sure your source of heat wouldn’t disappear.

Your thoughts wandered, as they often did ever since you were thrown into this dangerous adventure. How did everything change so fast? You could still hear the water trickling down the waterwheel in Ordon as if it was yesterday. Everything had gone wrong so fast, and now you were trying to save the entire kingdom from something you didn’t fully understand.

You knew it was the same for Link. But unlike you, he was much better at suppressing his confusion and doubts. You had noticed a change in him, no doubt caused by the sudden responsibility laid upon his broad shoulders. In addition to the more obvious changes in his attire, his cerulean eyes lost some of their glow, he somehow grew even more silent and he didn’t smile as often. All because he felt that his role as the hero chosen by the Gods demanded it.

It must have been tiring, you thought, yet he pressed on, never once letting even a single mention of how much it all weighed down on him slip from his lips. But you could see it. Whether it was in the way his shoulders fell with a sigh whenever he finished slaughtering a group of Bokoblins or how he yawned and stretched his arms almost every time he hopped off Epona. His body was fatigued, but his eyes held nothing but determination.

The rustling of leaves that came from behind snapped you back to reality, and your eyes fell on the bush where the grey animal soon emerged from, carrying something in his mouth the edges of which and a part of his lower body was seemingly damp. You watched as he walked with heavy steps towards the fire before dropping the thing you recognized to be a Hyrule Bass on the ground.

The fish flopped on the dirt and you found yourself raising a confused eyebrow at him, before locating his fishing rod not too far away from the fire, indicating that he had forgotten to take it with him. You looked at the fish again.

“Are we this desperate?” You managed to ask him as his beastly form quickly reverted to his original form you were familiar with. He sat on the ground and gave you a slight nod.

“We’re running low on food,” he said, taking a sip from his bottle of water. Most of his equipment was laying on the ground, though he was still fully clad in his green tunic, chainmail and all.

You noticed him taking out a small knife, no doubt intending to use it to prepare the freshly caught fish. He would not dare use his sacred sword for such a task. The bass was fairly big, enough for both of you, you surmised.

“I can take care of it,” you offered, noticing the tired look in his eyes as they turned to you. He shook his head lightly.

“It’s fine, (Name),” he assured and began cutting into the flesh, but you persisted.

“You haven’t slept properly in days.” It had been an exhausting few days, filled to the brim with battles against Shadow Beasts and other enemies. It took its toll on both of you yet he showed no outward signs of fatigue. Not that it was necessary, for right now, anyone could see the dark circles and bags under his otherwise gorgeous eyes.

He glanced at you, clearly pondering over your words while continuing to cut the fish. You were right, as you often were. He was exhausted, but the selflessness in him didn’t want you to lose any of the sleep you needed.

“Someone has to keep watch,” he began, but you quickly shut him down.

“Which I can do.”

You scooted over to him, noticing him making the final cuts to the scaly flesh of the fish. Placing a hand on top of his, you kept your eyes on him, trying to convince him.

“You need to rest, Link. Please.”

Upon hearing your voice that left your lips as a quiet plea he finally gave in, letting out a sigh that carried all his exhaustion into the air and letting go of the knife. He finally turned to you, his drained eyes glowing in silent relief.

“Will you be alright? You know you can wake me up any time if-”

“I’ll be fine. The only thing you need to worry about is getting some sleep.”

Your hand reached up to slowly remove his cap, exposing his dirty blond hair that bathed in the glowing embers of the campfire. You offered him a smile equally warm as the flames which he thankfully returned.

Planting the tiniest kiss on his cheek, you retreated from him, once again leaning against a lone tree. With your hand you lightly patted your lap, wanting the hero in front of you to have the best possible chance at getting a good night’s rest.

He laid his weary head on your lap and almost immediately, he let out a long yawn that indicated just how much he needed this, despite his stubborn protests. Your fingers found their way into his hair, running through his locks in a soothing manner.

Silence fell around you, though it was a refreshing change from the usual noises of battle and struggles. You stared at the fire once again, its welcoming warmth enveloping both of you.

“You’ve changed,” you admitted, thinking back to the simpler times, during which Link would have been more than compliant to sleep when he needed it. He let out a soft sigh, his eyes glued to the starlit sky above.

“I guess I have,” he agreed. You wondered if he meant it to the same degree as you did. Even now, you noticed the solemn expression on his face you had never seen back home.

Home. You thought about it a lot. Maybe a little too much at times. Ordon meant a lot to you, even more to Link you assumed. Perhaps that’s why he had gotten so stoic and serious. He was merely trying to protect what he held dear.

It was admirable, he was, by all accounts, a hero. Courageous, selfless, strong, yet still a mere Hylian. A capable Hylian indeed, but still a Hylian. A Hylian who the entire kingdom needed to save them. Everyone expected so much of him, it seemed as if he himself forgot his limits.

“You’re not all-powerful, Link.”

Your eyes fell on him, and his own looked up at you. Someone needed to be his voice of reason, and you were more than willing to take that role if it meant ensuring his safety when he sometimes couldn’t.

“Maybe I should be.”

Your eyebrows frowned at that. You knew he felt a certain sense of guilt about what happened to the children of the village. They were safe now, but there was a stinging sensation of shame embedded in him that made him feel responsible for all of it.

“Don’t say that. You did all you could. Pushing yourself to the point where you can’t stay up anymore won’t solve anything.”

He knew you were right. You almost always were. Link had always secretly wondered if it was a blessing that it was you who had accidentally stumbled across the same wall of Twilight that had transformed him into a beast. In all honesty, he was thankful.

“I’m just... Worried about you,” you confessed, feeling a small sense of dread in the core of your being. Just thinking about what could happen to him if he didn’t take care of himself made your stomach churn.

A troubled look fell on his face, as if he was feeling guilty about making your eyes fill with concern. You inhaled deeply and pressed your lips on his forehead, not wanting your own uneasiness make him anxious.

“Rest now. I’ll keep watch.”

With a small nod, he allowed his heavy eyelids to close and it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep, soft snores escaping his mouth that was partially agape.

For the first time in days, he looked truly peaceful. His body relaxed, rid of any signs of stress or tension, the only movement being that of his chest, moving up and down due to his steady breathing. With a smile you continued running your digits through his hair, hoping to comfort him even in his dreams you could only hope were as tranquil as your current surroundings.

“Goodnight, Link.”

#loz #zelda #the legend of zelda #loz x reader #the legend of zelda x reader #legend of zelda #tloz #Legend of Zelda Twilight Princess #loz tp #twilight princess #twilight princess link #link x reader #tp link x reader #twilight princess x reader #twilight princess link x reader #zelda imagines #link imagines #loz imagines

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chiwhorei · 4 years

Text

pollock

paring: art major!k. tsukishima x fem!reader

genre: a dash of angst, hurt/comfort, smut, 18+ minors dni

wordcount: 3.2k

warnings: dom/sub dynamics, fingering, spitting, dacryphilia, praise, daddy kink, breeding kink, impregnating kink, soft and kinda hard dom!tsukki, sub!reader

a/n: ahhhhh!! this is my first longer fic to come out in a while and i am ~so~ excited to share this with everyone. i have been keening over the idea of art!major tsukki and i hope you all like him as much as i do! this is piece is brought to you by the hqhq monthly server collab, so please go check out everyone’s amazing writing, the masterlist can be found here!

hymn: validation by herrick & hooley, cherry hill by russ

“Your work is always technically very well executed, Tsukishima-san.” The round, bald-headed man shuffles through the photos on his desk, pieces of Tsukishima Kei’s senior project that he’s tried to fit together before his final exhibit only four months away.

“But,” the dreaded word has Tsukki restraining himself from a long eye roll, “It seems like you’re stuck. You still need one more piece for the show. What inspires you?”

You hear a resounding slam of the front door swinging open and meeting the frame again, followed by a shuffle of feet towards where you’re standing in the kitchen of your shared apartment. Tsukki’s mouth is set in a flat line, expression softening only slightly when he sees you leaning against the counter. You greet him with a warm, but cautious smile. It had been a horribly long day, grating on every thread of patience Tsukishima has. The bubbling of anxiety and frustration mixing into a sour look on his handsome face. You hate seeing your boyfriend so defeatus, much preferring the sardonic, confident air he usually holds. Both of your final years of college have been exceptionally taxing, Tsukki’s final art project being the most stressing of all. It seems like as days propel forward, closer to his due date, the less assured he is of his talents, his passions. It’s heartbreaking to see someone so brilliant struggle through a million half fleshed-out ideas and crumbled up leaves of paper.

You pull one of his hands to you, examining the stains of paint and ink across his long digits and kissing each finger softly. You wish you could get inside that big head of his and help in some way.

“Did you have a hard day at the studio, Kei?” You wrap your arms around his neck and search his eyes. He’s not always the best at talking to you, especially when he’s upset, so you don’t expect him to give you an answer. Instead, you rub his shoulders, trying to coax the tension out. He sighs deeply at the contact, hands moving to rest at the plush of your hips and gripping tightly when you work at a particularly sore spot.

“You’re too good to me, princess. Thank you” He leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, and you nuzzle into him. You don’t have the answers to his current road block, you don’t pretend to. But maybe, you think, you can offer him a more carnal outlet.

“Of course, Daddy.” The name hangs in the air for a moment, any response hitching in his throat. The title is familiar after years of being together, always being both comforting and electrifying. Since the title slipped out years ago for the first time, your boyfriend feels his cool demeanor snapping like a glow stick, leaving hot lust in its wake upon it rolling past your lips.

He pulls you closed to him by your ass, inhaling sharply at the contact on his jeans. All you have on is one of Tsukki’s loose, paint stained sweaters and a thin pair of cotton panties. You brush one of your bare thighs against his crotch, and he feels the stresses of his day falling out of frame. Your body is always a buoy to pull him back from the drowning of self doubt. A perfect slice of heaven he became addicted to from the moment he spotted you across the dusty stacks.

“What inspires you?”

The question rings in his head again, but with a new perspective. Tsukki hears pieces clicking together with your lustrous body pressed against him.

“Babygirl, I think I have an idea. But I’m going to need your help.” His hands move to cup your cheeks, scanning over your features and finding a devious glint behind your soft, e/c eyes. Tsukki trails a thumb over your bottom lip lightly, admiring how you lean into the contact. Always so eager to please him, your temperament goes straight to his cock every time.

“Anything for you, daddy.” You press your forehead against his, waiting patiently for his next move. There’s astounding beauty in the glossy, temperate look in your eyes that he wants to, has to, to freeze in time.

“I have a few things to set up. Come to the office when I call you,” Tsukki pushes a stray hair from your face with a fond smile before walking away, he stops for a moment to look at you over his shoulder, “Naked.”

Your mind races as to what exactly he wants to do with you tonight as you busy yourself with peeling off your clothing. There is very little that you and your boyfriend haven’t tried at least once, but the tone in his voice has left you reeling at the possibilities.

Your eyes catch your reflection in the hallway mirror, naked body completely exposed to your own scrutinizing stare. Had it been the stress causing the image in front of you to be so unsavory? Every plane of skin promoting a different insecurity. A blasted thing a hallway mirror becomes when you’ve never truly loved what stares back. You fuss with your hair in a feeble attempt to make yourself more presentable. The question of how Tsukishima sees you always rattling around in the back of your head, especially standing completely naked and waiting in your own insecurities.

“Princess, come here.” You are pulled from your deprecating thoughts at the sound of Tsukki’s warm voice. You walk into his office, and notice he’s changed into just a pair of grey joggers. The sight of the low hanging garment making you salivate so much you almost miss your surroundings. He’s struck some kind of inspiration, you can see it in his eyes as he adjusts his easel and props up a large, blank canvas. You fiddle with your fingers as he looks up at you.

“Jackson Pollock.” You meet your boyfriend’s eyes, confused by his seemingly random statement as he parses out different colored paints into small bowls. Red, blue, green, yellow. “He poured paint on a flat surface so that he could view every angle color could create, every curve.” Tsukki muses, dipping two fingers into the bright yellow hue sitting next to him, bringing them towards his face with contemplation. “But I think this sweet little body of yours will prove a much better canvas.”

His eyes provide no sign of bluffing, but you stare back at him dumbly. Sure, he’s used you as a muse before. Studying your hands or the way your hair falls in the sketches you see hanging up by his desk behind you. You love when he wants to use your body for inspiration, but is he really going to cover you in paint?

“We both know you don’t mind getting a little messy,” He trails his wet pointer finger across your collarbone, following a line towards your chin. He tilts your head up to meet his eyes, “Open your mouth.”

Your bottom lip parts from the top, eyes following the line of spit that drops from his mouth to your tongue with a resounding put.

You swallow thickly, the feeling of his control already bending your will to meet him at every pass.

“I want you to look nice and fucked out for me, baby. I want to show my stuffy professors where my inspiration comes from. I’m going to capture how sweet and submissive my little princess is and then everyone will get to see what I get to enjoy every night.” His unmarred hand moves towards your already disastrously wet pussy. You’re drooling at even the most slight contact, bucking into his hand in a plea for more. His words, complimentative but unmistakingly domineering, have your head becoming fuzzy.

“Daddy, please. Please touch me.” Your whines are music to his ears.

“Oh princess, I plan on it. But I need you to be good for me. You don’t want to mess up all my hard work do you?” His voice is steady, authoritative but still soft around the edges in a way that makes you feel gooey.

Tsukki leads you to the stool sitting in the middle of the room, and you perch on it with his hands keeping you steady. You are his muse and medium, his subject and his canvas to use in any way desired.

Smudges of color brandish every inch of your skin, each stroke is a reminder of where your lovers hands have been. Blue and pink splatter against your stomach, a vibrant red outline on each curve of your breast and purple fingerprints against your pert nipples. Your legs wear a trail of hand prints towards your glistening cunt, wanton cunt. Each marring of paint sits beside paths of hot, opened mouth kisses.

All that is keeping you balanced on the squeaky wooden stool is Tsukishima’s strong arms holding you captive in place. Your legs had been thrown over his shoulders after painting across your upper thighs in a sea of greys and greens. As soon as Tsukki’s eyes met with your bare cunt, his mouth was quick to follow.

He’s a mess of paint now too, muscular chest and arms covered in pigment and face covered in you. He’s always insatiable, drinking you in like it’s the only source of sustenance left in the world. He knows how to work you, how to propel you towards orgasm in a way no one else has ever been able to do. Worshiping your body with langued strokes of his tongue. You let out a pitchy moan in response to his mouth, pushing you towards an end you can feel in the back of your throat.

“I bet you want to cum don’t you, baby? I can feel it. Such an eager little thing.” Tsukishima ghosts his lips across your hot cunt, blowing at your clit to make you yelp. You’re so close, too close. Dangling above bliss but not tipping over, knowing you need permission. You’ve been so good for him, he has to give you your release.

“Please, daddy. Please let me cum.” Tears wet your cheeks as you beg, holding onto Tsukki’s blond locks like an anchor. All you need is his approval, but instead of persimmon you are met with a bawdy laugh.

You really should have known he wasn’t going to let you go that easy.

Tsukki stands up, wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand. You’re wrecked in every way. Hair loose and disheveled, body dipped in a thin layer of sweat and thick splotches of paint. The look on your face is equal parts pathetic and fervent.

“I need you to sit pretty for daddy, I want to capture how desperately beautiful you look right now.” His words make you preen, but it’s a compliment and a warning at the same time. He wants to capture the look of sweet pain of denied orgasm to display at an art exhibit of both peers and his seniors. Sadistic in Tsukishima’s own unique way.

You should have known better, Tsukki’s patience has always been astounding. You know all he wants to do is bury himself in you, but he wants even more to make you suffer under his stare. There’s plenty of times he unleashes his frustration out on you physically, ripening your ass cheeks in bright red handprints and ensuring you can’t walk in the morning. But it’s these moments that can be even harsher, when he regards you with steely eyes and a aloof threat, that make your nerves catch fire more than a spanking ever could.

He sits down to start sketching on the large canvas in front of him, pinning you to your position with a practiced glare and playing on your desire to please him.

You sit as still as you can, listening to the scratch of pencil on vinyl in an attempt to keep calm. Your cunt is still twitching, puffy and slick propped uncomfortably atop the wooden stool. Tsukki hums along to the rhythmic music coming from his phone speaker, a playlist you know to be the one that helps him concentrate on his work. His brow furrows in concentration, pushing his glasses back in place as he stares at you again. His eyes are calculating and coldly observant, but his mouth quirks up in a surprising smile.

“My perfect baby. So stunning in every way.” His thoughts start tumbling out without his usual sarcastic filter.

“I have never wanted something more in my life than you. All of you, all the time.” A genuine regard for you in the lilt of his voice clamps down on your chest. He’s called you pretty, told you he loved you a million times before, but there’s a calm resonance in his words as his hands move across the white caves in front of him that catches in your throat. With the pressure of graduation looming over the two of you these past few months, romantics have been pushed to the side to make room for laser focus on finishing your degrees.

Your eyes well at his confessional, struck by the vulnerability so unfamiliar to him. You missed this side of your boyfriend, unlocking it incrementally through the years and finding it virtually non-existent recently. He sees your shoulders trembling slightly and tears his eyes up to your form.

“I told you to stay still.” His voice comes out harsh, but melts away when he sees fat tears rolling down your puffy cheeks.

“Y/n, are you okay? Did I upset you?” He moves to console you, the action causing another round of sobs, your body on edge in every way after both the teasing and his impromptu affirmation. Your response surprises yourself just as much as Tsukki, not realising how starved of his affection you had become.

“I’m sorry daddy, I-I didn’t mean to interrupt you. I just- do you mean all that?” You lower your head in embarrassment, and Tsukishima’s heart breaks at the realization. Had he unintentionally disregarded you? Had he been ignoring you?

“Fuck baby, of course I mean it. I’m so sorry I made you doubt that.” He pulls you up into his strong hold, he lets you cry into his shoulder until your wracking sobs simmer to sniffles. He holds you tightly in an attempt at atonement. He has to do something to show you how he feels now that he knows his words have failed him. His actions have to speak in his place.

Tsukishima pulls you away slightly to meet his gaze before colliding his lips against yours. He traces his tongue in sonnets across your mouth, tasting the lingering essence of your arousal and the salt of your tears. He writes prose in the breathy gasps as you part for air, chests heaving. He has to show you what his words won’t always allow him to.

It’s bodies tangled together, covered in the colors of a man trying his best to show you how much he loves you. You had fallen to the floor at the behest of passion, Tsukki’s body covering yours, lips kissing any extension of your skin, uncaring of the paint covering both of your writhing frames.

You paw at his sweatpants as if they are the most offensive thing you’ve ever scene, Tsukki’s cock springs out to slap against the hard muscle of his abdomen. You don’t waste any time lining him up to your dripping folds, you’ve waited long enough. Hips crashing together like a fever dream, you’re wrapped in each other as if there’s nothing else in this world outside of a set of paints and four walls of a dimly lit apartment. The sun could be hurling towards the sidewalk just outside and Tsukishima, usually observant to a fault, would have no idea. All he knows is your body beneath him, clawing desperately at his back with every deep thrust, and the love poem he has written on your body. Reds across your breasts and brandishing your thighs. Greens and yellows across your neck, up your arms. Messy, sticky, covering the thin sheet Tsukki laid out to spare the hardwood.

Your panting, crying out for your daddy and consumed in the salty taste of love and lust crashing together like waves. His cock is heavy inside you, filling you up so completely. Tsukki rowes on, not daring to stop now, not with the resounding drumming of two hearts beat so perfectly together and the feeling of your clenching, velveteen walls hugging him like he’s coming home.

“I am so desperately in love with you. I want you like this, with me, forever.” He’s delirious, drunk on your body. Primal, as he stares down at you, colorful and completely conquered. He sees everything in your eyes, every baser desire, every hope for the future.

“I want to fill you up with my cum, princess. You are mine in every way. God, I want to see you swollen with my baby. Right here.” He presses against your belly, feeling his cock moving inside you from the splotches of pick and blue.

His confessional spurs you on, the emotions overwhelming. Feeling so loved, so needy, wanting everything the blonde above you is willing to give.

“Ah, Daddy! Please, please fill me up. I wa-want you to put a baby in me, I need it.” Your clenching tightly, each pump of Tsukishima’s cock better than the last.

“You are such a good girl baby, always saying exactly what I need to hear. Cum for me, princess, let me see how good I make you feel.”

His warrant is all you’ve needed this whole time, snapping to hours of tension with a sharp cry. You’re thrown into the pooling, honey-sweet feeling of release. Sinking every inch of your aching body into a blissed haze. Your walls spasm violently, tightening around him like a vice. He meets your hips with his own, knocking hip bones together like pool balls and holding himself in your heat as you milk his throbbing cock, stealing every drop of hot, while cum he has to offer.

He crumbles to the floor beside you, pulling you to his chest. Lying in a mess of paint and sweat and staggered breathing. Through the fog still resounding in your head, you hear Tsukki laughing lightly, “How’s that for inspiration?”

-Four Months Later-

You shift on your toes in anticipation, waiting for Tsukishima to release the hold he has around your eyes. You hear the bustle of people around you, the laughter and tinkling of glasses clinking together filling your ears. He kisses your temple before letting go, and you are met with a new reflection of yourself hung proudly on display. All of the places you see blemishes are drawn with vibrant purposeful color. Every curve of your form mapped out with the care only a lover could administer. Your naked form exhibited for hundreds of critiquing eyes, but there’s not a bone in your body that could feel embarrassed in this moment. As reflection so beautiful it’s unbelievable is staring back at you.

“Is this really how you see me, Kei?” You turn around to meet his eyes, his stare holds the love of epics. He would write you novels if he could, but this picture is worth a thousand words.

“Of course it is, baby,” He brings a hand to thumb at your slightly swelling belly.

“Of course it is.”

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

#tsukishima smut #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei smut #tsukishima kei #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #hqhq server collab #haikyuu hq #hq tsukishima

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joestarwhore · 3 years

Text

Dark!Yandere!Jojo’s x AFAB!Reader - giorno giovanna & josuke higashikata

TW: forced, non con, manipulation, dead dove do not eat.

Josuke

The entire town of Morioh knows who you are. & Now, it’s not that you knew them personally. They knew your ever following shadow.

Josuke Higashikata.

Eyes, whispers, stares would be thrown at you, but fear would overcome those actions. All it took was a look from Josuke to be reminded.

What’s Josukes is Josukes.

This would piss the ever loving shit off of him. You’d be walking down the street of the town, his breath would become eerily slow. His arm would wrap around you and his hand would rest on top of your tail bone.

His fingers would ever so slowly creep more and more towards your soft cunt, adrenaline centering more and more in your core.

“I remind them time after time to keep their greedy fucking eyes off of you and what to they do?!” He sneered into your ear, “They look at those filthy whore tits of yours.”

Reddened cheeks and a horny driven fog clouded your mind as Josuke pushed you into an alley.

Josuke’s greedy eyes and cocky lips grazed your body as he pushed you onto the asphalt. “Jojo, stop!” you cry out to him, “This is too public & i don-“

Josukes hand collided with your cheek, the force of it throwing you into the brick wall of the alley. You screamed in pain as you fell to the ground, Josuke quick to be on top of you before you could register even falling.

“You know better than to talk back to me, you dumb slut!” He yelled at you menacingly, “I am your boyfriend and sooner than you think, going to be your husband. You. Belong. To. ME.” Crazy Diamond appeared to rip your jeans from your body, cold air of the evening hitting your oddly soaked underwear. Men were peaking from the alley entrance ways watching you be forced upon by your boyfriend who made the town fear your presence. The amount of control you lacked at this moment was embarrassingly arousing.

Josuke put either of your legs over his shoulders, leaning his torso down to where his weight was bending you in half. Fear and adrenaline coursed through your veins as you begged him to stop and to think about this. “Josuke please, i’m so scared-“ Your pleas were cut off by his lips pressing into yours.

“There’s no need to be scared. I control your everything remember, baby? This is just,” he rips your shirt in half and pulls apart your bra in the process. “a reminder to every pervert watching your ass as you walk by. You. Are,”

Without even realizing he had prepared himself , he aligned the tip of his dick with your entrance and bottomed out in you. Your screams echoed the alleyway, men peaking from the entry ways tugging at their pricks to your screams and destroyed pussy. “What are you, Y/N? Tell me what you are and Daddy will make you feel so so good.”

“NNN, FUCK- I’m yours, Josuke!! I’m all yours and ill never leave you PLEASE!!” You screamed as you had a death grip on both of his arms. “Make it stop!!”

Josuke smirked as he slowed his thrusts, rubbing your clit with his thumb in rhythm with his hips. Your screams of pain turned into moans of ecstasy. Your orgasm came as your head became fuzzy and dark. Your wet & sloppy pussy pulsed around his rock hard cock, and with a sick moan he came inside of you.

Josuke pulled out of your crying cunt, fixing his clothes & of course, not bothering to fix yours. He picked you up and looked down at your weak form, not able to stay conscious for very long.

“They just need a reminder sometimes baby, you understand why i did that right?”

You managed a nod.

You knew itd happen again too.

Morioh was heaven and hell. You’d never leave.

Giorno

Giorno Giovanna doesn’t show stress.

His ever growing estate was your gothic designed prison. You didn’t leave your room. Your ankle was chained to your bed post, you didn’t wear normal clothes, simply beautiful sets of lingerie Giorno would pick for you.

He would always tell you how beautiful you looked. Giorno made sure that his work was done before sunset every day, never missing a minute with you. Giorno might be your captor here, but he was a ray of sunshine you treasured to see.

Today was.. different.

The door quietly opened, and Giorno’s italian dress shoes signified his entrance to your room. The silence was more deafening than anything he could’ve yelled or said. His ocean blue eyes simply just stared at you.

Before you could ask him what was wrong, vines gripped your wrists and ankles and dragged you to a starfish position. Your cries of fear did nothing to Giorno’s expression, in fact they drew him closer.

Giorno stared at your position, drinking in every ounce of how out of control you truly were.

“I killed a squad today.”

Fear settled in your heart. He KILLED a squad?!

“I heard them across the compound, you see. Their Capo was here to drop off his report and their loud mouth assassin decided to speak into the rumors about this estate.

“Like how there’s a beautiful (Y/A) girl here locked away, only seen by the Don.” His unmoving tone made your chest stagger with breath, what could he have possibly done?! “They then started to discuss how they could come use your filthy cunt since you’re sucking my cock every day anyway.”

Giorno’s body started swaying towards you in an eerily patterned way. “I don’t allow intrusion on something so precious of mine.”

Giorno’s body would bend over you, making you fall onto your back. Your (E/C) eyes gazed into his with fear dancing in your heart. Giorno’s lanky hands slid under your panties as you bucked without control against his fingers. His lips attached to your neck and sucked and nursed at the nape of your neck.

Giorno kept a constant pace against your clit, working your panties to the side to line up his cock at your entrance. “Tell me, (Y/N),”

His cock entered your entrance slowly, resulting in a moan falling out of your mouth.

“Who do you belong to?”

“Hnng- you, Giorno.. !!”

His long cock started to consistently pump in and out of you, making you grip his shoulders for support.

“And tell me, mi amore, what is the price for those who covet what is mine?!”

Giorno started to piston his hips in and out of you relentlessly. Your screams echoed your bedroom as you replied the best you could.

“D-DEATH, GIOR- FUCK-!”

A large hand gripped your face and make your eyes look at his, a domineering gaze settled upon you.

“Cum.”

Pleasure assaulted every part of your body, convulsing every muscle of you to massage his cock pulsating inside you. Hot threads of cum shot into your overstimulated womb, cries of relief coming out if you both.

Gio slid out of you, landing his body over yours to hold your shaking self against his body.

“I am your life, your death, your evermore. Don’t forget that, darling.”

“I’m always watching.”

#yandere jjba #jojos bizzare adventure yandere #n/s/f/w jjba #vento aureo #jjba imagines #yandere giorno #yandere josuke

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jordanstrophe · 3 years

Text

War of Royalty, Merek Raynoldus

I’m not ready for the next main chapter (mostly because it’s kind of important and I want to do it right) So here’s a flashback before the king (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

[Masterlist] CW: Medieval whump, slavery, torture, whipping, manhandling, medical whump, pinned down, blood, exhaustion/collapsed, overworked, stern caretaker, reopened wounds

When a master was hard at work, then so was the slave.

The blacksmith had a strict order put in and wasted no time sending his slave right to work. ‘No rest until the job is done’, he snapped, and the slave was soon an exhausted and trembling mess. He collapsed on one knee to catch his breath, only to have his thigh harshly kicked and the man barking at him to get up and keep working.

The Master was always stressed and itching for perfection. If something was too little or too less, he would dish out a punishment with brute force. A slap was never so simple, it was a strike hard enough he was laying on the floor bruised and bleeding.

The day passed and night came, bringing with it cool air and hope. The brief time he got a break was spent laying at the Master’s feet, quivering until he was nudged and told to gather the next pile of iron.

But he couldn’t move anymore.

He crumpled to the floor and the stones fell off his shoulder in a heap. “Ray, get off the floor, we’re not finished yet.” The Master hissed, kicking his back as he only slumped further onto his chest.

“Pathetic...” Master spat.

He felt something tightly squeeze his wrists together and pull him off the ground, his waist and legs felt like dead weight behind him as he was dragged.

*Snap!*

He sharply inhaled at the whip lashing his shoulder, tearing skin in a seething streak. His eyes half-widened until he slumped back down.

*Snap!*

The Master was standing so close the length of the whip curled across his shoulder and struck the side of his cheek. Blood streamed down his face and dripped off his chin. “Plea-...se....” He rasped, turning his cheek away and cringed when he heard the whip sling over the man’s shoulder for another shot.

*Snap!*

He did what he could.

His back arched and he shouted until his voice broke. His body jolted with each strike, but he only had the energy for an occasional whimper.

Why was it never enough?

*Snap!*

Would it ever be enough?

Was everything pointless?

*Snap*

Enough...

*Snap!*

Please! ... enough!....

*SNAP*

“ENOUGH!” Eden shouted. He awoke to blood everywhere, on the sheets and dipping down his spine. He still felt every lash, the one burning his cheek and the countess ones spanning his back. His vision was blurred and he squinted, swearing those restraints looked just like hands...

“Eden! It’s okay! No one is hurting you!” A voice shouted over his cries. He rapidly blinked until he could focus, finding strange faces gathered around to help hold him down, others stood by and held bloody bandages and tools.

“Breathe, in and out.” The voice soothed.

Was he not?

His breath spiraled into quick bursts as a hand stroked his cheek up and down. “Wh-where am I?!” Eden flinched and squirmed away. “Easy! One of your wounds burst open last night. Just... lay still.” The king grabbed his ankle and scooted him down until he was back on the pillows.

“Breath slow, slowly ... slower.” The king guided, laying beside him and turning his cheek to the side. “I-... I don’t know what’s real anymore.” Eden rasps out of breath, his eyes snapping back when the physician gently continued to work on him. “Everything feels... fake. It’s e-either a nightmare, or it’s t-too good to not be a dream.” His fists tightly close around the blankets in a grip.

“What’s too good?” Arvend asks, running his fingers through his hair to distract him from the physician.

“You.” Eden broke the eye contact by burying his face in the pillows. "You never told me why you chose me... Or even answer my question about who I was. Whatever you're hiding from me, it's a shoe waiting to drop, isn't it?"

“Oh son...” King Arvend sighed, looking down at all the blood and streaks on the boy's back. “I know I haven’t been honest with you, but there are things that I do to keep you safe-” “-Ravenhill already did what they wanted with me! What more could you do?!” Eden cried, pushing the man’s hand away. “Eden, please! Take it easy.” Arvend snaps, before gently petting his hair. “I understand your restlessness, you have a right to be wary of me.” He let the last stroke finish before taking his chin and tilting his face up.

“But I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe. You can be angry, you can even hate me, but I will not do anything that would put you in harm's way again.” He scolds, feeling Eden cringe and stiffen in the palm of his hand.

“Do you understand?” He whispers.

“Yes... my lord.” Eden mumbled, his eyes averting his gaze.

“Good boy.” Arvend praises, placing a quick peck to his forehead. “Now get some rest. I’ll keep a closer eye on you tomorrow.” He spoke. Eden obediently nodded, but deep in his head, he was sick. His mind felt like it swam in circles.

He said he won’t put him in harm's way... again. What happened before?

And why didn’t he remember?

He would put a smile on his face and behave, but in the background, he was going to find what happened. Whether someone helped him, or not. He didn’t care if he got caught, he didn’t care if he got in trouble. He wouldn’t stop until he found the truth on his own.

ʕっ• ᴥ • ʔっ Thank you for reading!~ @tears-and-lilies @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @starnight-whump @bumpthumpwhump @whumpcreations @myst-in-the-mirror @heathenville @grizzlie70 @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @thegreathowdini @kim-poce @digitalart-dwa @princessofonward @andwhump @sunflower1000 @kim-poce @lonesome--hunter @cupcakes-and-pain @as-a-matter-of-whump @nicolepascaline @neverthelass @octopus-reactivated @jadeocean46910 @melancholy-in-the-morning

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lannister-slings-and-arrows · 3 years

Text

I and Love and You

The fifth in Rafael Barba/Reader/Frederick Chilton threesome verse written in collaboration with @pascalispretty . Mood board also by the lovely and talented @pascalispretty !! Yep. We did this. Was it necessary? No. Did we enjoy it? Sometimes. Are you going to read it? I sure hope you do and that you like it! Cross posted on ao3!

Part Five of the series So Much Easier than You Realize

Warnings: Total and complete tooth rotting fluff. Schedule an appointment with your dentists, ladies and germs. Rafael is, as always, a bit of a jackass. You will probably have an incurable craving for breakfast food. And the teeniest tiniest mention of daddy kink. Rating: E for everyone because there is nothing objectionable in this at all, I did not think we could actually write something this sweet lol. Word Count: 3725 Summary: Mornings are for cookies and contemplation.

When Rafa wakes up, he spares a moment to sympathize with his growling stomach. More than one moment, if he’s being honest with himself. He isn’t normally an early riser but his stomach wouldn’t be so empty if he’d been allowed to have his bedtime snack and not rudely distracted by his two partners and an ingenious application of his second favorite blue tie. The result is pleasantly sore abdominal muscles and the rare opportunity to wake up in time to see the both of them still peacefully asleep in bed next to him.

Fred’s back is pressed close to his chest and his legs brush against Rafa’s as he levers himself up onto his elbow to look at her on Fred’s other side. Her face is tucked against Fred’s neck and the doctor’s arms are wrapped tightly around her, and Rafa smiles at them both, still asleep in the soft grey early morning light.

Fred shifts, and an irritable frown passes over his face the longer Rafa uses him to balance himself to stare at the two of them, so Rafa quickly presses a kiss to his temple before settling back down with a sigh.

It’s too early to be up, really, but he’s starving and is not getting back to sleep without eating something. He grunts and sits up before pressing another kiss to Fred’s shoulder. He swings his legs out of bed and grabs a pair of grey sweatpants.

Rafa trudges down the hall to the kitchen. There were still Bugles hidden in the back of Fred’s Tupperware cabinet. Oh shit, had he eaten them all? He flicks on the light to the kitchen and huffs a quiet laugh when he finds a sticky note on the door of said cabinet in Fred’s small, precise handwriting.

Sorry, I ate the last of your chips two days ago. In my defense, counselor, you left them in my house and I was having a very stressful day. I made you cookies instead, they’re on top of the microwave. I figured you’d be up before the both of us this morning since you didn’t get your snack. --An Apologetic Psychiatrist who feels like he shouldn’t be apologizing for eating food in his own cupboards.

Rafa runs his fingers over the note a few times, smiling like an idiot, his heart feeling full and warm and about seven sizes larger than it was when he woke up. He turns his head and sees a plastic container (with a green lid because the green Tupperware was for storage of baked goods as Fred was constantly reminding him) right where Fred said it would be, and when he steps over to investigate it further he finds a batch of white chocolate macadamia nut cookies. Another note is stuck to the lid.

I know these aren’t your favorite. I know that you don’t really enjoy white chocolate. Consider this my attempt to make sure you don’t eat all of these in one sitting. Please limit yourself to two; you aren’t in your 20’s anymore, Rafael, and it’s not even a normal time for breakfast yet, much less cookies. --A Not Apologetic Psychiatrist who doesn’t want your first heart attack to be in his apartment, thank you very much.

Rafa rolls his eyes and peels the lid off, smirking as he deliberately takes three out of the box. He doesn’t hate white chocolate, after all, and he does love macadamia nuts. And he has always had a problem following instructions.

Standing at the kitchen counter, Rafa eats his cookies with a pleased groan, once again thanking whatever saints or angels his mami appeals to for sending him a partner that bakes. Not that he thinks his mother would have prayed for someone at all like Fred. Fussy, officious, arrogant, snobby, and, well, a man. His mother would have had someone like their younger lover in mind however. Smart, pretty, and willing to stand up to his attitude. Most of the time anyways. Well, what did Lucia Barba always say? You can make as many requests of God as you want to but remember that He has a sense of humor too? She got him a little extra than what her original request probably specified.

Rafa snorts at the thought and brushes crumbs off his bare chest, leaning back against the counter and surveying the kitchen in the growing light. He’s still hungry but he knows he’ll hear about it if Fred wakes up and all of those cookies are gone. And today is supposed to be the one day this whole month the three of them can spend just being quiet together with no plans, no work, and no prior obligations. He’d rather not spend it all dodging Fred’s passive aggressive jabs and her pouting looks and quiet pleas to please just be the bigger man and apologize.

He stretches his arms out on the counter behind him and tips his head back, staring absently at Fred’s kitchen ceiling as he contemplates making his way back to bed and napping until Fred wakes up and decides to order in breakfast. He’s nearly settled on that plan when he catches sight out of the corner of his eye of the bright blue note on the cupboard. He doesn’t remember Fred spending any time in the kitchen before the two of them dragged Rafa into the bedroom to put his ties to a much more interesting use. He must have gotten out of bed after Rafa fell asleep to put this together, and Rafa can’t help the smile that spreads over his entire face.

Rafa slaps his palms on the counter and shoves himself off, making his way over to the fridge to see what Fred has in the way of actual food. He’s already awake; the least he can do is make breakfast.

He finds the ingredients for pancakes easily enough--Fred is a stickler for organization. Rafa tries not to make a mess as he moves around the perfectly arranged and spotless kitchen. He stirs the batter by hand rather than risk the noise of the KitchenAid but pauses over whether or not to put chocolate chips in.

She would be pleased, her sweet tooth nearly rivals his own, but Fred would almost definitely be annoyed. Especially because Rafa has already had chocolate earlier in the morning. With a fond sigh, Rafa puts the glass jar back in the cupboard, though not before tipping a few of the chocolate chips out into his hand.

It reminds him of cooking in Fred’s beautiful house in Baltimore, his sweet girl laughing and dancing around the kitchen in one of Fred’s shirts, barely being any help at all. All three of them adore the big, beautiful house that Fred had shyly shown them--as if they could have done anything else other than fall in love with it.

Fred relaxed slightly when it became clear that his guests found the house as beautiful as he did. Rafa tried to help her in slowing Fred down as he showed it to them, asking questions about particular objects or features and pointing out the things they especially admired. Every sincere compliment kept a gratified little smile plastered on Fred’s face--and there was plenty to compliment him on.

It’s clear that it holds a special place in Fred’s heart. It’s so him, every inch of it reflecting back the man who poured so much time and effort and money into making it a home. From the collection of antique medical texts carefully displayed on the shelves to the exact shade of teal velvet upholstery on some of the armchairs, Fred had lavished attention on the house to surround himself with things he loved and found beautiful. It amused Rafa to wonder if he’d taken that into account when he’d invited his partners over; whether they’d laud the elegant aesthetic he’d established in his home.

Shifting the spoon briefly to give his right hand a break from mixing, he smiles at the memory. He’s never actually admitted to Fred how much he likes playing house with his two partners there. Rafa is fairly certain that the kitchen in the Baltimore house is larger than the apartment that he grew up in and he knows that a wine cellar is an absurd luxury. But it’s a place where the three of them are free to be themselves, without worrying about nosy neighbors and doormen.

Rafa snorts quietly, folding the batter briskly to get out all the little flour bubbles. That pretty well explains how he feels about Fred too. Fred is too high maintenance, too abrasive in all the ways Rafa normally hates, too… prep school, but Rafa can’t help but smile indulgently every time he turns his nose up at a meal that costs less than fifty dollars, or every time he gets that prissy stubborn look on his face, or juts his chin out and point blank refuses to admit that he’s wrong (even though Rafa can tell that he knows that he is).

He never apologizes either. Ever. He’ll be proven wrong, he’ll hurt both their feelings, and the closest to any sort of acknowledgment of wrongdoing that the both of them will get will be a cup of coffee in bed the next morning, one of Fred’s most handsome smiles, and the complete and sudden cessation of all hostilities like the fight never happened. Rafa knows that with anyone else that kind of behavior would be a relationship killer.

Rafa looks over the batter and nods to himself, satisfied with the consistency, and balances the spoon against the side of the bowl. He stares at the oven and frowns. Just pancakes hardly make breakfast. Going over to the fridge, he grabs bacon out of its particular place, rolling his eyes as he does so, and tosses it on the counter next to the pancake batter, reaching under the silverware drawer for a frying pan.

Maybe it’s the way Fred ‘apologizes’ with the perfect cup of coffee instead of actual words. Maybe it’s that same perfect cup of coffee that somehow manages to find its way onto his desk at work when he’s too swamped to go out and get one--just because Fred knows he needs it. Or a sandwich from his favorite deli and a quick flash of that handsome smile on Fred’s lunch break.

Rafa gets started on actually cooking said breakfast, hissing and swearing quietly when he gets a first-hand demonstration of why you shouldn’t fry things without a shirt on. Fred would have more than a few words to say to him about the relative intelligence of what he’s doing right now. He grins. Maybe that’s it--the way he cares while trying desperately to make it seem like every time it’s an inconvenience of the highest order.

Maybe Rafa loves Fred because every once in a while, when he’s very drunk, very tired, or the perfect combination of both, Fred slips a little and calls the both of them by those cute, ridiculous southern pet names that before now Rafa would have put money on being more myth than fact. And how embarrassed he is when it is pointed out to him that he just called a forty-something year old man ‘pickle’.

Fred is arrogant, prickly, particular, and both overindulgent and overly judgmental of vices depending on if he himself shares in them. He is a pain to get along with most of the time and sometimes treats the two of them like they’re made of spun gold--things to be cherished and well looked after and shown off to the best of his ability. He’s a contradictory monster and Rafa loves him.

He has a feeling that the smile on his face is sappy and ridiculous, but as he turns the bacon and settles to wait a few more minutes, he shrugs. There isn’t anyone else around this early to see him; his reputation as a son of a bitch and a jackass won’t be ruined. He loves Fred. He loves her. He loves both of them--sometimes so much it’s hard for him to keep it to himself and wait for them to come to the same conclusion. Their individual faults, foibles, and perfections and the way they mesh with each other and fit so surprisingly well in his own life.

Like getting new book recommendations from her--whenever he has the time to actually read something for fun. She leaves them on his home desk with a brief explanation why she thinks he’ll like them. That almost always makes up for the numerous occasions he has gone looking for one of his own books and found it had mysteriously jumped off its shelf and walked itself three rooms over, or managed to find itself completely out of order.

He drains the bacon onto a paper towel covered plate and gives the pan a quick rinse. He loves finding packets of M&M’s in his briefcase or in his suit coat pockets, loves knowing they’re from her and that she braved Fred’s ire to indulge his habit of constant snacking. A habit Fred particularly despises. He loves--most of the time--being a couple minutes late to work some mornings because she got into a nearly incoherent argument with him about what color tie he should wear. He loves that she loves his wardrobe as much as he does.

Rafa loves ganging up with her to tease Fred and loves that she can take some teasing herself. He loves that she just rolls her eyes and plays along when his puckish side emerges and he can’t help but be an asshole even though he can tell she would rather he didn’t.

Rafa starts pouring pancake batter, chuckling to himself when he recalls the mood she’d gotten into the last time his sense of humor had gotten the better of him. While waiting for a table in a restaurant, a strange woman had made a snide comment about ‘men dating women young enough to be their daughters’ and Rafa had been unable to resist feigning outrage and asking what was so terrible about a man taking his daughter out for a nice birthday dinner.

The woman had been mortified, and Rafa had enjoyed the look on her face so much that he’d only hammered the point home further, telling her it was hardly his fault he was a widower and a single parent. He hoped it had taught her a valuable lesson in boundaries. His sweet girl had been so embarrassed but it had been so worth it.

Flipping the first pancake, he thinks about the flaws that come with her youth. She’s always the first one to joke about having daddy issues and Rafa can hardly deny how much he enjoys hearing her call him papi--and Fred daddy--in bed. He just has to try not to think too deeply about it. Not that Rafa really has a leg to stand on where difficult paternal relationships are concerned. But her jokes mask an insecurity and a clinginess that Fred has a habit of overindulging. More than once when he’s been trying to work she’s tried to distract him or cuddle up to him and then gotten sulky when he had to gently but firmly rebuff her.

When he finally finishes work on those evenings, he usually finds her wrapped around Fred instead, giving him a wounded look when he finally emerges from behind his case files. Those looks are wordless guilt trips every time he’s on the receiving end of one--no matter how right he feels in his decision to work instead of play.

And yet somehow she’s worked the same magic on him that Fred has. A flaw that in anyone else would have stopped any idea of a relationship in its tracks is something that he’s come to love about her. Her clinginess comes from a place of emotional fragility and it must be hard to let her partners see that. The fact that she trusts them enough to be so vulnerable around them makes Rafa’s heart swell. He can’t help but love her, even when he’s dealing with her pouting and huffing.

Fred talks about it like Rafa is somehow being ungrateful, that he should drop everything to spend time with his beautiful, smart, young lover, and it drives Rafa crazy. He knows that Fred generally means well when he tries to appeal against his more workaholic tendencies, but he also knows that Fred could retire now and live off his trust fund if he wanted. It rubs him the wrong way when Fred tries to discourage him from working hard because he’s never needed to understand why Rafa works as hard as he does.

He starts stacking the cooked pancakes on a plate on the stove and furrows his brow in concentration. Fred gleefully indulges her in her clinginess, dropping everything to scoop her into his arms or take her to bed. They’ve even taken to napping together with his cock still tucked inside her, as if they can’t bear to be anything other than as close as physically possible. He’s stubbornly blind to the fact that Rafa can’t just drop what he’s doing. If Fred misses a deadline for submitting a journal article the worst that happens is it gets pushed back an issue. If Rafa misses something in his case files or submits something late or fails to prepare as fully as he should, it can ruin lives. Dangerous predators can be let out on the street to offend again. People don’t get the justice they deserve. And even in this day and age, a poor boy with a Spanish name is granted a lot less leeway with employers than a rich boy with a nice American name and family money.

They come from very different worlds, even if Rafa has carefully and thoroughly infiltrated Fred’s, and Rafa loves and hates it a little that Fred forgets that most of the time. Rafa has to always be ‘on’ and can’t afford the same kind of laxness that Fred can.

Sometimes he even has to be ‘on’ at home when he’d rather put his fist through a wall or wrap himself in every blanket in the apartment with a bottle of scotch and pass out. Like when he walks into whichever apartment they’re spending the night at to find Fred in a screaming match with her that he has to moderate. She likes to complain that he and Fred can really get into it like a pair of children, and he isn’t saying she’s wrong—they definitely can—but she and Fred are just as bad. Frankly, the three of them are cut from the same cloth when it comes to being pig headed and it makes for some rather loud and spirited fights.

Like the frequent battles she has with Fred over her occasional smoking habit. They always start out with Fred gently chiding and somehow end up with Fred snidely pulling out his “I went to medical school, therefore everyone else is a moron” voice and her reminding him that he couldn’t cut it as a real doctor and she’ll “smoke a goddamn fucking cigarette every once in a while if she fucking feels like it.” Rafa tries to interfere before it descends to “as much as you like to act like it sometimes, Frederick, you aren’t my father” and “maybe if you knew how to make better choices you wouldn’t be constantly seeking validation from older men,” but he doesn’t always get home in time and instead walks in to the both of them glaring icily at each other or shouting as many deliberately hurtful things as they can.

He likes to leave his courtroom face at work, but it’s generally the only thing that will defuse those battles, or at least calm them down into cold wars. Rafa doesn’t particularly enjoy playing mediator on the best of days, especially not when one wrong word from him will have one or both of them turning on him as another enemy combatant. He likes his occasional cigarette too, and he snacks constantly, and eats terribly; all things that Fred will use to drag him into a fight.

But while he hates trying to calm them down enough to at least stop yelling, he has to admit he loves having people around to yell in the first place. Yes, these fights mean he has to put on his lawyer face when he’d rather get drunk and pass out. But he has people in his life to break up fights between. He can come “home” to people who care about him. People who, when they aren’t screaming, see him come through the door and smile. People who would, and have on occasion, drop what they are doing to bring him something he left at home and needs now. People who drop a sandwich on his desk when he’s working and quietly--most of the time-- leave him to it.

People who care and appreciate him.

Rafa finishes setting plates and cutlery out on the island and starts the coffee maker. He loves having them a few rooms away. He loves knowing that they like him enough to put up with his “shoebox sized apartment”, with him being an incurable workaholic, with the fact that when he gets stressed or angry he lashes out at anyone around him. With the fact that when he does he can be more than a little cruel.

Rafa makes his way back into Fred’s bedroom, wincing as always at how bright it gets when the morning sun fully hits it. He smiles when he sees them still tucked against each other just like he had left them. He loves this view the most.

Rafa grins mischievously. They put up with his innate tendency to be a complete and utter jackass, and that is one more thing he loves about them.

“I just rearranged every single cupboard, bookshelf, and drawer in your entire apartment, Frederick!” Rafa informs the room in general. Loudly.

Fred’s eyes snap open and he sits up, dislodging his sleeping companion without a second glance. His gaze lands on Rafa, who is smirking next to him, and his eyes go comically wide in horror.

“Rafael Barba, you didn’t.”

Tag List: @sassyada, @dreamlover31, @prurientpuddlejumper, @storiesofsvu

#rafael barba x frederick chilton x reader #rafael barba x frederick chilton #frederick chilton x reader #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba #frederick chilton #law and order svu #hannibal #fanfiction #fanfic

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paddymoonstruck · 3 years

Text

𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬┃𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫

chapter one

warnings: cursing, mentions of death, season 4/manga spoilers ??? (that’s about it, think!)

word count: 2,705

notes: this is the first installment of wistful irises !!! i guess it would be a slow-burn fic that would contain 5 or more chapters. i wrote this to cope with the tragedy of AOT manga chapter 138 — that’s just fucked up tbh. please give this one a like/reblog/feedback so i know whether or not you liked it !!

NEXT CHAPTER: H E R E

𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐟, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐧 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬

It was quiet — so eerily quiet, a hand came up to soothe her ears bitten by the cold wind. Devon’s palm felt at the rough rubbles on the surface of which she was sat on. Everything she laid eyes on tugged at her heart, scanning at her surroundings as if she looked one more time, her vision would change.

Alas, she gazed upon the damaged cities from her place atop Wall Rose, with no success. Devon threw her head back, opting to find comfort at the stars that laid peacefully on the sky.

“They’re dead.” She asserted, nearly winced at the wave of overwhelming devastation rushing at her heart.

However, she was unsure who or what she was alluding to. Was it the people of Paradis? Those she lost? Or even — the stars?

Nothing was clear, at the moment. Only hurt and confusion clouded her devices. She found her palms closing in on the small rubbles she had caught, clutching them tightly in her fist.

It had been four years since everything went into a complete spiral. Perhaps it was for her alone, considering a massive part of her died along with the hundreds of comrades who sacrificed themselves for the sake of the truth.

She remembered the day they found out about the life that existed beyond these walls. The walls she had known all her life, was quite literally, made to imprison its people. It was unclear whether she was angry or sad that there was a whole world out there that hated their existence so much that they’d created monsters to attack them.

“It’s late, Devon.”

She recognized that sweet-tuned voice instantly but didn’t turn to look his way as she spoke. “It’s awfully cold, too.” Her voice came in a whisper.

Her new companions footsteps grew closer, making her glance to her right. “Are you here to wallow in despair with me, Armin?”

The blonde simply sat down beside his friend, looking ahead the dark path. “No,” He answered. “I was just looking for you.”

The silence returned after that. Chilly air wafting at the night, Devon laid her hands on her lap, inspecting how they’ve gotten small cuts from the sharp stone she had held. Her ears felt blocked as her hands began to tremble. She clenched her teeth in the hopes to ebb away her impending emotions. She exhaled a shattered breath, pressing her hands against the skin of her face.

Armin’s hand that intended to ease Devon’s cries, seem to have worsen them the moment it touched her. However, he continued on, rubbing small circles at the column of her back.

“I — “ Devon started, her voice failing her as another ripple of pain pounded at her chest.

An encouraging hand reached up against her own, gently coaxing her into a state of solace, just enough for her to be able to convey her emotions.

With a breath, Devon began once more. “I thought we’ll be close to peace, once we discovered what was in that goddamn basement,” She laughed, lacking humor. The back of her palm wiping at the tears that had fallen on her cheeks. “But — it was just another door to one more disaster.”

“That’s true,” Armin agreed, but still mulled over her words. “It is a big step from freedom, though.”

She gritted her teeth, baring the headache that came with it. There was a part of her that knew it was the exact idea Armin had in mind. Regardless of her understanding, she couldn’t help but feel a whistle of displeasure crawling against her lips.

With a swing of her head, she finally flashed her attention to Armin. Devon gave him a once-over, noticing how his once shoulder-length hair, had been cut shorter, lips curled into a frown, dragging down a creases on his forehead. The main thing that always saddened Devon was the look in his eyes.

Armin was the last person Devon thought she’d see with those haunting wisp. He was the last shred of hope she had in this world, even before everything came tumbling down, Devon saw Armin as a beacon, that she could run to whenever it all became horrifyingly dark— staring at him now, Devon felt extremely helpless, loneliness grasping at her throat, catching herself reaching for Armin’s hand that was placed on her back, snatching it on her own.

“We’ve lost so much,” She mumbled, compressing her grip on his hand. “I can’t afford to lose anything anymore— Armin—”

“You won’t—”

“— If we go tomorrow, I will—”

“Devon—”

“No— we’re going into a lion’s den! Every single person in that goddamn land wants us dead!” She stressed, leaning in closer to Arnim as if it’s bound to improve his comprehension.

Armin halted, observing the panic flood in Devon’s sunken eyes. The usual brilliance of its green hue had faded over time. In it’s place were tired, dull irises staring back at him.

He swallowed the lump building up his throat, nodding in understanding. “I know— but we have to bring him home, Devon.”

With a quick dark chuckle, Devon faced the sky, leaning her head back. “I don’t even know if I want to see him,”

Huffing out a breath Armin was holding, he abruptly got on his feet, pulling his hands from Devon’s freezing ones.

The latter flashed him a confused glance, awaiting his next move. She watched as Armin shook off his Survey Corps jacket, soon hanging it on her shoulders.

Maybe it was the topic of discussion that made them neglect the air that had been a lot chillier than before. Devon felt warmth seeping back into her skin as she hugged the material tighter against her body.

“You don’t seem to have a choice for the matter,” Armin muttered, gazing down at her. “Whether or not you’re in good terms with him, Eren still belong with us.”

Devon grimaced, as if Armin had said something completely ridiculous— in her eyes, it was.

She recalled that painful night, about three months ago. The night Eren decided to sneak out and leave Paradis. He had been babbling about it for weeks prior to his escape. Devon made the mistake of thinking it was all that— mindless babbling.

She was wrong, of course. Eren had actually planned everything. He was going to see through his stupid plan.

“Are being fucking serious right now?” Devon hissed, distressed eyes were scanning Eren’s face, hoping this was some sick prank he’d gotten everyone in.

Eren cringed at the volume of her voice, hands putting up immediately to cup her mouth. “Devon— Please— Listen, yeah?”

His pleas were met by deaf ears, as Devon slapped his plams away from his mouth, glaring at him with the outmost disbelief.

“You’re being stupid,” She scoffed. “This is stupid— Eren— You want to go there?” Her furrowed eyebrows deepened the more she thought about it.

Eren bit his lip, nodding slowly, standing rigid in front of her, frozen at the fire in her eyes. He examined her, sitting on her bed, contemplating the information he threw at her face.

The light of the single candle in the room, illuminated the left side of her face as she turned to him again. “What ever you think is going to fix this, it’ll only call for another war—”

“That’s nothing new.”

“You selfish—” She had lunged at him, limbs acting before her brain. “—little brat—!” An echo deafening resounded in the small enclosed space, rearing on the silence it followed. Devon’s palm stung, eyes raging and barely seeing anything beyond her seething anger.

Before she had the mind to process anything, her head banged against a solid surface, a groan leaving her lips from the impact.

Everything was fuzzy, scarcely making out anything at sight. Only cloudy images filled her vision, almost not feeling the bruising grip pressing her down by the wrists.

The searing breath near her ear, felt uncomfortably cold, a pair of lips grazing at the tip, making her shudder.

“For your own protection— all of you— remember that . . .”

The words echoed, but she could barely hear the last ones, as her breath turned calmer, the last thing she saw were those turquoise orbs, looking back at her with an emotion she couldn’t quite read.

Devon shook herself out of the memory. There was more to it, she knew that — but she couldn’t seem to remember. When she tries, a huge headache always came crashing down on her. A sick wave slapped her as she thought about the dreadful possibility of Eren, messing with her memories.

She hated the big gapping wall in her mind. It was always incomplete, left her nothing but empty guesses about what else he could have said to her that night before he left her hanging with a missing piece in her heart.

He left them — and just like that, he gets to come home in the most unnecessarily brutal way possible. Eren was asking for a bloodbath, and unfortunately, that was what most likely going to happen tomorrow.

“He’s going to get us killed.” She muttered, voice thinning at the thought of her fallen comrades — endless blood — fire — explosions — “We’ll be lucky if we all make it out in one piece.”

This time, Armin didn’t contract her declaration, having her look down. He was frighteningly aware of the fact that any of them could die at any given moment. It brought him peril at how Devon had smacked him in the face with the reality he was trying to avoid. A part of him wanted to believe it was all going to go smoothly, but the logical part of him had mulled over the dreadful alternative for a long time now.

He sympathized with the hostile feelings Devon had grown for Eren. Perhaps it was due to the puzzling relationship they possessed. If he was to base it on his observations alone, it was painfully obvious that they cared deeply for one another but never had the time or courage to say it.

No one has ever pried about their relationship, since they both dismissed it as nonsense. It was perplexing yet as clear as day what they had for each other.

They would always be found bicker when they were younger, Devon calling Eren an ugly airhead then Eren shooting back that they were the same. Back then, it was true. They were kids who thought they could do everything themselves. Armin could say, Devon grew out of that attitude as time passed by when he got to know Devon a little better.

After the battle with Zeke, Reiner and Bertholdt, the amount of trauma everyone endured was terrible. The bloody aftermath of Paradis was engraved into their minds, never fading until their last breath.

The guilt ate at Armin when he found out how he came to be alive. He often wondered why it was him. Why did Captain Levi give him the chance to live over Commander Erwin.

On the other hand, remorse gripped at Devon’s throat at the unintentional betrayal that crossed her mind that day. She found herself opening her mouth before she could hide it away.

“I was so desperate for peace . . .” She whispered, yanking down Armin by his hands, his behind slamming against the hard concrete as he was forced to sit down in front of her. “That I . . . For a long time — I believed that only Erwin could lead us there —”

“It’s alright — “

“It isn’t — it was meant to make me happy, for goodness sake — you came back from the dead after I stood there and watch you get burned alive . . .” She failed to realize she was crying until she felt droplets of her tears falling on her hands, intertwined with Armin’s.

Looking away, she continued, Armin watching her carefully. “Mikasa and Eren were desperately convincing Captain Levi to resurrect you — while I stared at both yours and Commander Erwin’s body , absolutely loathing the choice that had to be made.”

Devon could no longer hold in her heavy sobs, as it broke through her completely. “I get why you thought that, and you weren’t selfish for doing it, were you?” She listened to Armin’s reassuring voice. “You thought Erwin should’ve had it because you believed people would follow him and would avoid getting hurt — “

“ — you’d be able to do that too, though . . .” Devon countered, sniffling as she glanced back at Armin’s oceanic orbs. “I was just blinded by fear to think straight back then.”

Armin smiled at Devon in a silent gratitude. “I thought about everything you did, too, and maybe you’re right, maybe I’m too blinded by my own fears to face another life that was given to me — but I promised Captain Levi and Commander Hanji I’ll do everything it takes to bring us the peace we’ve been seeking out for years.”

Devon winced at the sudden touch on her head, chestnut locks swishing from one side after the other as Armin ruffled her hair.

“Regretting could only get you so far,” Armin stated, a small smile gracing his face. “What’s important is what you decide to do about it.”

Warmth flooded at Devon’s core, nearly bursting into tears at Armin’s comforting words. Her mind went back to Eren, his circumstances and living conditions on that island were mostly unknown. But seeing as he had the facilities to send a letter, hints that it must be at the least safe.

She started to fly over the scattered thoughts inside her head, mulling over how mentally drained she has been, yet the noise and dull of her heart seem to only worsen. The countless times she had to convince herself of the good things left in the world to bask the gift of life, but lately, she found herself sitting by the windowsill of her room. Eyes always glancing up the sky whether or not they were painted with shining stars.

Devon often clutched her chest when the uncontrollable pangs in her heart refuses to remain still. Some days, the rejection of waking up rattles her tremendously, and the refusal to face the day ahead was stronger than anything.

She wanted nothing more than to take a few steps back and reverse time to relish the tranquility of it all. It sounded ridiculously selfish, but she’d trade anything if it means she would awake to Eren and Jean’s loud voices arguing or to see Sasha pocket goods she had stolen from the kitchen while being chased down by Armin. And oh — what she wouldn’t give to replay the day they’ve all bonded together after Keith Shadis made Sasha run until she was in the brink of insanity.

It’s those little things that made her nostalgic, bringing a sad smile on her lips that she wasn’t sure if she wanted those thoughts randomly popping up her mind. Sometimes, disbelief hits her harder than anything whenever she’d allow herself to scan the faces of what’s left of her teammates.

When Erwin had told them, he knows “they’d one day go far and achieve great things”, if he was still here, Devon would surely make him look at what had become of them.

Everyone was preparing for the expedition in Marley tomorrow. Devon had exited the room when she had heard the severity of the situation. Eren was going to wreck havoc in that foreign island and he gave them no other choice than to lend him aid.

It was rather conflicting, Devon was worried for him but nonetheless, despised his living-breathing self. She often wondered about his whole motive, considering his adamant proclamation that it wasn’t for his own self-indulgence.

It felt like it was, as she began to feel the shuddering screams of the impending battle that was set to take place.

If another life of her loved one’s taken from her tomorrow, she fears that it might throw her in an unstable state and she had every right to blame it all on Eren.

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serenscarlett-moved · 3 years

Photo

'Agent, the Eradicators!'

Aris heard Shara’s voice over the comm to shift her focus to the current objection on hand, taking one last glance at the stunned Sith Lord before she hurriedly rushed to the terminal. It didn’t help when Shara’s urgency hadn’t settled her anxiety with tensions running high, and Aris scrambled to input the code she obtained from The Eagle into the console in a bid to shut down the Eradicators for good.

At least, she had hoped for the sake of the Empire…

‘Hurry!’

Not helping at all, she thought quietly at Shara, biting back on her tongue in annoyance.

The terminal pinged, granting Aris the administration access to the Eradicators and wasted no time under stress, diving through the menu screen to find the shutdown command She heard movements behind her, she figured the Sith Lord had regenerated their strength in the Force–rather too soon than she expected–making her to work faster as she can.

Then she found what she had searched for, the shutdown button appeared on the screen, her fingers reached out, but the ominous feeling within the air made it harder to breathe.

“That’s far enough.”--Aris felt her body stiffened –"Onomatopoeia."

Her body froze, fingers barely hovering above the button left untouched, ceasing any actions she was supposed to be doing. She tried to move her hand to press the button but her body was frozen stiff.

Why can’t I move?, she asked herself in her mind, What’s happening to me?

She sensed the Sith Lord’s presence appeared next to her, eying suspiciously over their motive, though she became more alarmed watching them tapping into the console, then the shutdown button disappeared from the screen. Shara’s calls for her attention over the comlink were muted, Aris tried to move once more but remained still.

“You think for a moment that I would allow my Hand to get away with this by turning against me?” Jadus asked her, “No, I don’t think so. This cannot continue.”

Then the next thing she knew, the command setting appeared on the console’s screen awaiting to begin the firing procedures, her eyes widened by this change.

What is Jadus doing?

The Sith Lord averted their attention from the console to the agent, lifting their gloved finger to tuck the strand of her hair behind ear, smirking at the way her body flinched from their touch. Jadus’ eyes then dawned onto the hearing implant briefly, leaving the agent upright with dread.

From the corner of her eyes, she faintly noticed the cyborg guards departed the bridge, Aris had wanted to warn Shara with change of development, but found no voice to speak, and inaudibly screamed within her head with vain hope that Shara could hear her.

“Now, be a good girl and activate the Eradicators for me?” the Sith ordered.

Aris had tried to resist, but she was not in control of her body and mind, it felt like she was a puppet being tugged through the strings from a puppeteer from behind with instruction to await for command, her fingers inches dangerously close to the button.

‘No, don’t listen to Jadus! Disable the Eradicators!’ came Shara’s pleas through the comlink.

The hearing implant within her right ear was pried off by force. Aris was startled with a yelp over the loss of her implant, completely vulnerable and relied on her left ear for sound, she was mortified as the Sith Lord tore the comlink apart and tossed the hearing implant onto the terminal’s surface.

“I’m afraid Cipher Nine--my Hand as I stand correctly--is unavailable, Watcher Two,” Jadus announced over the comlink, “She is preoccupied at the moment…”

Then, Jadus snapped their fingers.

The Eradicators began to fire.

Aris gasped and regained control of her mind and body, relief was quickly washed away as her eyes darted to the holovid with a horrified expression that she activated the Eradicators against her will. That wasn’t the plan, she was supposed to disable it!

No. Fuck.

She tried to back away from the terminal, too shocked and stunned until she accidentally bumped against Jadus’, her eyes watered and choked on her voice. Their arms were around her unwelcomingly.

"Watch and observe, darling." Jadus leaned into her left ear, fingers grasping the cipher's shoulders tightly preventing her escape, eying the holo-screen with glee, "This was the start of 'our' vision."

#swtor #scarlett swtor writings #ch: darth jadus #i had to rewrite this because it was sitting in my wips for a while nghhh #i am such a horrible horrible person for doing this to my oc #snippet: jaded schemes #serenscarlett edits #oc: anisaira nevrakis

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lokifantasies · 3 years

Text

The Trial PART 1

Summary: The long awaited trial against Evan Nichols has started, and the foundation of the case against him has been laid out.

WARNING: GRAPHIC TORTURE AND SEXUAL ABUSE EXPLAINED.

Character(s): Loki, Thor, Jade, & Evan

Read the Mischievous Life series here!

Follow Jade, Loki, and Reader!

Join the Discord here!

Taglist! (click here to join a taglist!)

Strikethrough means I can’t tag you for some reason.

@1marvelnerd3000 @agentkinghorn @angeldarkness95 @arypesanchez @chaotic-neutral-queen @donttouchmylaevateinn @emerald-alone @eyesbluelikethetitanic @fa-me @ferriswheel97 @geeky-politics-46 @holdmytesseract @iris-shihabi @itsybitchylittlewitchy @jeongadelarinia @lokistoriesblog @lougy @melianisnothere @mqrvelbvnch @mm2305 @mortallythoughtfulgurl @nms224 @prettysbliss @shraddhadeveshvikram @xoxoloverb @you-will-find-peace-someday

The trial is here. It's the day that your family has been waiting for since this whole nightmare started. Unfortunately, Loki and Jade are both adamant that you remain on bed rest for the sake of the growing baby, and you ultimately end up losing the argument when you try to force them to let you come. Loki assures you that he'll be by her side for the both of you – supporting her the entire time.

In the back of your mind, you know the stress of hearing and seeing the evidence would be too much for you, and no one wants to see anything happen to your baby. Thankfully, Thor also appears to support his niece and brother – sitting on Jade's right as Loki sits on her left.

"I don't wanna see him," Jade mutters – looking down to the floor when Evan walks into the courtroom with his parents.

The teenager looks like he's injured – his leg has a slight limp, and his eye is swollen and dark. However, the seventeen-year-old has a smug smile on his face – his ego being stroked when he sees the television cameras on him. He takes his seat in between his lawyers, and they group together to discuss something quietly. Loki, Thor, and Jade try their hardest to hear what they're saying, but they're speaking far too quietly.

"I don't understand how he could have a defense," Thor says to you and Loki. "How can anyone deny that he did what he did?"

You shrug. "I don't know, Uncle Thor. I just want this to be over with."

The prosecution begins their opening statement by laying out all the facts of the case and making it clear what Evan Nichols is being tried for. His charges are as follows:

- 1st degree aggravated kidnapping

- 1st degree sexual assault (with forcible penetration)

- 1st degree sodomy

- Conspiracy to commit a kidnapping

- Conspiracy to commit a felony

- Felony stalking

- Harassment

- Attempted murder

- False imprisonment

- Assault with a deadly weapon

The first few witnesses to testify are the first responders who saved Jade from the small space she was being held in.

"Could you please state your name for the court and how you became involved in this case?" the prosecutor, Mr. Jeff Bards, began to question the officer.

"Brian David Wilson. I'm an NYPD SWAT officer who responded to the 911 call to 4892 E Graves Road," the witness explains.

"What happened upon arriving at the address?"

The officer took a deep breath before speaking. "We, the SWAT team, forced our way inside the house, and we started searching. I began to hear some muffled pleas for help, and when I followed them, I came across the fake wall in the home's basement. After removing the fake wall, I discovered that there was a small crawl-space type room."

"Can you confirm what the photo on the screen is?" Mr. Bards asks – a photo of the tiny, dark space where Jade had been held showing up on the screen.

"Yes, that is the crawl-space," he confirms

"And where was Ms. Lokisdottir located?"

"She was located in the back corner of the crawl space. She came out from hiding when she saw me, and I pulled her out of the space," officer Wilson stops to take a deep breath and gather his thoughts – trying to push his feeling aside. "Afterward, I carried her out of the house and to the ambulance that was waiting outside."

There's silence as the officer exits the witness stand – looking towards Jade and Loki as he goes to take his seat in the rows. The other officers testify – stating similar things to what the first one did. Then, everyone hears the fateful words.

"The prosecution calls Jade Pandora Lokisdottir to the stand, please."

Loki and Thor wrap their arms around the shaking sixteen-year-old – remind her that they're right there, and if she needs to, just look at them and they'll help her.

"You can do this, my love," Loki says softly. "Just pretend you're having a conversation."

"Okay," Jade nervously breathes out.

Thor hugs his niece close before she stands up. "You are so strong, Jade...just like your parents. You got this."

Jade exhales and nods – trying to walk up to the witness stand without falling. On the way, she refuses to look at the defense's side of the courtroom – disgusted as to how anyone could defend Evan.

Oh well, everyone has a right to a defense.

For a moment, Jade looks towards Evan. A smirk appears on her face when she sees his injuries – wondering who she needs to thank for the revenge. Before Jade turns her attention away, Evan takes the chance to blow a kiss towards her – excited to watch the goddess relive the nightmare he put her through.

"Could you please state your name for the court?" the prosecutor asks – looking directly at Jade.

"Um," Jade's voice is soft against the microphone. "Jade...Pandora Lokis-Lokisdottir."

"And can you tell the court how you came to know the defendant?"

Jade takes a deep breath and exhales – looking towards Loki and Thor for support. "Ye-yes. Um, we met at the mall when my parents took me shopping before the school year started. That weekend, we went out on a date, and then we started dating."

"Were you and the defendant ever sexual?

"Not...really," Jade answers. "Um, we only ever had oral sex, but that's it. I wa-wasn't comfortable with ever going any further than that."

"So, there was never any consensual sexual intercourse?"

"No."

"How long were you and the defendant dating?"

"Four months."

"During that time, did the defendant act inappropriately towards you in any sort of way?"

Jade exhales. "Yes. The last night we hung out together, he tried to force himself on me, but he ran away and drove off when I yelled for my dad."

"Ms. Lokisdottir, can you walks us through the day of September 3rd?"

Jade shakes her head and exhales nervously – looking towards Loki and Thor for their support. This is the first time she's ever spoken about what happened to her, and hopefully, it'll be the last.

"I was...at school, and Evan told me he wanted to speak with me privately, so I followed him out into the parking lot to smoke marijuana and talk in his car. When we got to his car, though, he locked the doors, and he took off from the parking lot." Jade swallows hard before continuing. "Um...I begged for him to stop and turn around – just let me go back to school, and I wouldn't tell anyone. But he didn't. He kept driving – pulling a knife from under his driver's seat and holding it to my throat. I tried to do as he said – hoping that he'd let me go, but he never calmed down. When we arrived at his house, no one was home. H-he led me into the basement and pulled a dresser away from the wall. It was a secret room behind the wall, and he made me...uh...he made me take all of my clothes off, so I was completely nude. He put a collar around my neck, and he connected it to a bolt in the floor so that I couldn't move much. He left for, I guess a couple hours, and he left me in the dark room. I remember how cold it was. It was freezing...especially since I didn't have any clothes. When he came back, he started to...do things."

"Could you explain what things were done to you by the defendant?"

Jade's eyes begin to tear up – her breathing becoming staggered as she thinks about how to word the horrific abuse she had been put through. The looks of support from Loki and Thor, however, give her a strength that she didn't know she had.

"There was...a metal bar," Jade begins quietly – biting her bottom lip to keep her thoughts going. "He had a long lighter with him, and he started to heat the bar up. He was laughing when he pressed the hot metal to my thigh – smiling at me while I screamed in pain as my skin started to burn. There's still a burn scar on my left thigh. When the bar finally cooled down, he threw it to the side. He grabbed me by the chain leash and forced me down to my knees. With his other hand, he...took his penis out of his pants and pried by mouth open. He grabbed the back of my head and used my mouth to get himself off. No matter how much I cried, and begged, and pleaded, he didn't stop. He found it entertaining. It turned him on." Jade looks out to see Loki and Thor becoming angrier by the second, but they're trying their best to remain calm for Jade's sake – knowing that they need to be her support. "After he was...finished, he uh, forced me to lie on the dirty floor. I tried to keep my legs closed, but he punched me in the face, which caused me to jump. Before I could try to close my legs again, Evan had them spread, and he began to...force his mouth...on me. I felt his teeth bite me, and I knew I was bleeding, but it seemed to turn him on even more. H-h-he reached over and grabbed the metal rod again, and h...I'm sorry...can I just...a moment?"

"Take your time," the prosecutor assures Jade – maintaining a professional composure.

Jade exhales deeply – closing her eyes and trying to gather her courage to continue.

"H-he began to use the metal rod to...assault me. He shoved it inside me – giving me cuts and bruises. I was bleeding, but he continued to thrust it in and out of me until he was satisfied. I thought he would finally be done, and I thought he'd take me home, but then I felt him begin to...insert himself...his...penis...into me. I tried to kick him off, but he held my legs as tight as he could to stop me from moving. It...I'm pretty sure he was trying to cause me pain. Finally, I stopped fighting – wanting him to just hurry up and let me go. I tried to stop crying because I didn't want him to be anymore satisfied with himself, but when I felt his fingers start to go into...the other side, I started fighting again. He pulled me up by the chain, and he forced me to look into his eyes. I remember he said that I was now his slut, and he was going to break me until I learned to love it. After a couple of minutes...he...ejaculated into me, which later resulted in a pregnancy. Evan was still wanting more though, so he turned me over and held my face to the floor as he entered my backside. Again, ignoring my cries and screams for him to stop. I lost track of how many times he did this...I think I may have blacked out or something, or maybe my brain made me forget in order to protect me from the memory, but the next thing I remember was being alone, redressed, and I heard the police officers calling out for me."

"Thank you, Ms. Lokisdottir," the prosecutor says with a proud smile.

#loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki fandom #dad!loki #loki x reader #loki x you #mischievous life #ongoing series #requests open #send requests #jade lokisdottir #loki family

38 notes · View notes

waywardimpalawriter · 3 years

Note

“Kissing me breaks the promise… remember?" with Javier and can I please have a happy ending, I know it's angst prompts but.... :D Thank you!

Crazy Love

Pairing: Javier Peña x Plus Size Female Reader

Characters: Javier Peña, Steve Murphy, mentions Connie Murphy

Setting: After season one episode 7 ‘You will cry tears of blood’, five months after the events in ‘Heels’,

Rating: M (Mature), E (Explicit), NSFW, 18+ only please

Warnings: mentions of gun violence, almost killing a child, self hatred, smut, unprotected sex, Angry Javier (yes he needs a warning), angst, slight fluff at the end,

Summary: One slip up, reacting too quickly he could’ve ended the life of one way too young to fight the wars of old men. Thoughts filled with darkness, what if’s and self degradation. Wanting to loose himself in the only way he knows. To find because of you he can brave the dawn and the coming war.

Word count: 5,985 (with lyrics)

Notes: Thank you so much for the request sweetie, @autumnleaves1991-blog I hope you enjoy. Prompt in bold. The song used is ‘Crazy Love’ written by Van Morrison and preformed by various artists. This also a sequel to “Heel’s part 1” written some months back.

Tag List:

Forever’s: @chickensarentcheap @jedi-mando

Knuckles white with the grip he’s got on the steer wheel, eyes darting between the thin packed streets and Murphy with the baby in his arms. “What about the kid? Any ideas where to take her?”

Missing the shrug, with his eyes back on the road, “For now I’ll take her with us.” Smirk twitching his dark blond mustache with the look Javier pins him with at a stop light. “Don’t worry Javi she ain’t gonna stay with you. Poor darlin can’t live on whiskey and cigarettes. Though the parade of women might slow with her at your apartment.”

“There’s no parade jackass,” trying to focus on the road ahead and off what almost occurred three hours ago.

Subtle tick to his jaw knowing something’s bothering his partner about what went down. More to the point of how it went to shit and letting two high ranking Sicario slip through their fingers. “Wanna spill what’s eaten at you?”

“No just take care of the kid don’t need you play shrink in my head,” pulling up to the embassy, Javier kills the engine turning fully to look at Steve. “Care to share your explanation to Noonan or will you wing it?”

Shrugging Steve glances down into her sleepy eyes trying to figure out just what he’ll say. More importantly what he’s going to tell Connie. “I’m not,” looking back over at Peña seeing a raised brow. “I’ll take her home to Connie, figure out this shit as we go.”

“I’m sure Y/N would babysit,” mentioning you name cut deeply as the last month he’s put distance between the two of you. Continuing the relationship based solely on your sexual needs instead of the feeling he keeps buried.

“Doubtful, she’s working on transferring out. Packing I’m sure takes her time up right now,” seeing the scowling confusion drawing his brows down. “You knew she asked for a transfer right?”

“When?” Curses fill his mind. Directed fully at himself for letting the situation spiral out of control to the point you’ve become that notch on his bed post. Telling himself he’s going to let you go but never finding the courage to actually cut the strings. “She never mentioned taking a transfer. ”

The nights spent together you never mentioned a transfer. But then words rarely left either of your lips that’s not in passionate pleas wanting more or demands for completion. Conversations the first to go in the crumbling relationship, embraces followed not long after and the final straw added a month and a half ago. No kisses on the mouth anyway a promise you made him invoke to separate the past pleasures from the present stalemate.

Revisiting those thoughts often, Javier understood why you made the decision. One he hated but respected. Wondering most nights why you still let him inside your soft plush body instead of putting up a wall between the two of you. Shoving him out of your life fully. But then the transfer you didn’t speak of talked louder than any uttered words could.

“Two weeks ago, something about returning back to the States. Damn shame Y/N’s a fucking amazing secretary even better person. Why’d you go fuck things up for us both?” Wanting to knock some sense into Javier but a part of Steve understood the other man’s reasons for pushing you away. “Just let her go man this job she’s not fit nor can put up with the stress. I know I pushed at first but whatever you did to shover her away it’s for the best.”

“She’s a lot stronger than you know,” said more to himself than Steve. Other mans words hitting deeper than Javier would say, his fingers tightening around the leather steering wheel. “You don’t know shit Murphy.”

“I know a month ago things changed between the two of you.” Switching the baby to his other arm cradling her close to his chest. “Whatever happened she become withdrawn, stopped smiling as much,” piercing him with a hard stare. “Reverting back to the woman I first met when coming Bogota.” Glancing out the windshield Steve drag a hand over his face exasperated sigh leaving his lips. “ piece of advice either fess up explain what’s eaten at you or let her go.”

Selfishness claws at his mind wanting to keep you from leaving. From getting away not only from Columbia it’s self but from him. The realistic half needing you safe a world removed from the war starting to build back up. This afternoon’s events flash through his mind of how he almost killed a kid. A fucking kid who tried to protect the Sicario scum he chased and cornered. Would’ve had him had the kid not pulled a gun on him. The decision not to pull the trigger an easy one this time. But what about the next? Making him no better than the men he chases if he decided to take the shot so easily. Affirming those thoughts to let you go for your greater good and health.

“Javi?” Snapping fingers to gain his attention. “Deep in thought or just swimming the shallow waters?”

Scowl taking up home over his features, “Don’t worry about it doesn’t concern you.”

“Fuck you say, she’s my friend to Javi.” Shaking his blond head wondering how much pushing it’ll take before Peña would break. “Besides I think Connie has a good chance at kicking your ass if you do anymore damaged. She’s wanted to get her hooks into you for a while now.”

Almost chuckling at those words though it’s mirthless and self deprecating. “She’s next in line,” tossing the words out while starting the Jeep. Silence reigns on the drive over to their apartment, pulling up to the curb and letting Steve out.

Who pauses in the open door, “Heading to Y/N’s? Or back to the Embassy?”

“Paperwork,” impatiently waiting for Steve to shut the door.

Eager for some peace and time to think. He sees you standing in the doorway arms crossed under your generous breasts. For once actually studying your features taking in the fact you look somber, dressed in well loved jeans and baggy T-shirt. No makeup, though Javi told you a thousand times how beautiful you look without all those cosmetics painted on your face. Heart kicking up at the way your staring at him. Barely seen with you so far away but he knows there’s a softness shining in your eyes. Emotions he’s never tried to decipher in other women till you. Thoughts now run into each other, fears chasing after wanting so much but feeling undeserving.

Soft chuckle echos around the Jeep’s cabin making Javi glance at Steve, “Time better served explaining than useless paperwork.” Looking over his shoulder to find you gone, “Before it’s to late and she’s gone.” Door slamming shut, Steve leans in through the open window with a meaningful expression on his handsome face. Patting the inside slight nod of his blond head before turning to go inside leaving Javier with to many thoughts.

Pulling away from the curb happening to glance back towards the apartments catching you standing at the window. Hand pressed to the glass unreadable look on your face one he’s sure shows signs of displeasure and anger. With a blink your silhouette disappears heart clenching at the thought he’s just imagined you standing there. Another curse flies from his lip, palm forcefully slamming down on the steering column doing nothing to temper the anger boiling inside his mind. Instead Javier guns the engine taking off at a high rate of speed receiving numerous honks in irritated warning.

*************************

Letting the curtain fall back in place wild thumping of your heart pulsing out a rhythm that aches with every pound. Partly hating yourself for getting involved with a man incapable of having any kind of relationship other than sexual. Asking yourself why you keep letting him back into your bed, into your heart knowing it’ll just break in the end. Only one answer comes to mind and you push it firmly back into the dark abyss. Focusing on what you needed to done. Having struggled for the last two months with the decision to finally put in for a transfer home, away from Columbia and Javier Peña. Never an easy choice especially when you’ve fallen in love with a man who would never love you back.

Heavy knocking makes you jump in spot leaning against the wall by the window. Hand coming to rest against the quickly beating organ threatening to thump right outta your chest. Taking a breath trying to calm down from the freight you take small steps to eat up the distance towards the door. Another round of pounding has a scowl appearing wondering who would beat your door down at this time of evening.

“Hold your horses I’m comin’ already,” raising you voice loud enough to at least pause the noise.

Grasping the doorknob right when, “Hermosa,” his voice pulls your hand back almost as if the knob burned you with that very endearment. “Open up you can’t hide I know your there.”

“Go away Javier I’m not in the mood,” arms crossed glaring at the door. Pivoting on bare feet to track towards the kitchen going back to sorting through what your keeping and leaving behind. Freezing in place the unmistakeable sound of a key sliding into lock. Cursing the fact you never asked for the spare back and giving him one in the first place. Try as you might to make your feet move instead there rooted in spot when the door opens. “I didn't invite you in Javi turn your ass around and leave.”

Breath escaping quickly, eyes narrowing after searching the apartment he’s spent the last months in. Catching sight of half filled boxes, newspaper scattered over the coffee table, before landing on your furious features. Hands gripping wide hips, soft chin jutted out in annoyance while eyes spit anger burying the true feelings deep. “It’s true?”

“Why do you care?” Countering his words biting the inside of your cheek to keep tears from sliding coldly down your cooling skin. “Leave Javier,” exasperated and tired just wanting to move on, putting the relationship in the past.

Not two steps away his warm gun callused hand incloses around your wrist tugging and turning your plush body around to face him. “Not till you answer me.”

“We don’t talk about feelings remember Peña, your rules,” yanking your wrist free glare firmly in place.

Flinching at the harsh tone eyes scorching him with there intensity, his own somber and filled with regret. Deserving of those very words no matter how much they hurt. He moves forward for you to take one back reaching to grasp both shoulders. Taking another step out of his reach slow two step pattern finds your back pressed against the bar counter. Reminiscent of the first time you made love all those months ago. Except this time you’d stand strong push him away and not fall prey to those warm russet eyes filled with so many indescribable emotions.

“Stupid rule I never should’ve put in our relationship,” three feet of space between the two of you. Both chests heaving breaths eyes locked and searching. His eyes close drawing in your familiar scent letting it wash all the days stress clean for a single moment in time. Ear’s picking up the quick beating of your heart wishing as his eyes open a smile would bloom over those kissably soft lips.

“But you did and there’s no taking it back now,” firm stance starting to crumble under the weight of emotions filtering through his dark eyes.

Half way to reaching out his hands drop back to fist at his sides, “I’m sorry hermosa I didn’t mean…” unsure how to fix what’s broken. Never good at speaking his feelings even when the need presents its self.

I can hear her heart beat for a thousand miles

And the heavens open every time she smiles

And when I come to her that's where I belong

Yet I'm running to her like a river's song

“What’d want from me Javier?” Pleading tone arms crossed to close your body off. Putting up a defense against the one man who’s managed to crumble every wall surround your heart. To starve off the bubbling emotions threatening to spill over and consume you.

Closing the small gap, callused hands cup both cheeks, fingers spread from apples to jawlines. Brushing his thumbs under your eyes his own pleading and soft ‘the puppy’ look you nicknamed it two weeks into the relationship. “To kiss you.”

Swallowing harshly, “Kissing me breaks the promise… remember?" Willing your body not to react, not to turn and place kisses to his palm. Nuzzling the warmth drawing peace from his comforting touch. “We made rules you know how I feel about kissing Javi.”

Almost two months ago things started to fall apart. Always asking yourself why you still let him into your bed and body. Part of you knowing the space carved Javier hole in your heart will never close. Not even denying the both of you those intimate kisses could change the fact he’s wormed his way through defenses long held too fall in love with your DEA agent.

“I know mi amor,” sliding one hand down from your face to wrap his arm around your thick waist. Pulling you flush into his embrace and against his body. Turning the both of you so it’s his back pressed into the counter. Savoring the softness wishing you’d hold him. Run your fingers through his hair and chase away the stress currently resurfacing with your tense posture. “I don’t want you to leave.” No truer words spoken ones that cut his very soul with the implications of what could happen if he didn’t take Steve’s advice.

Agony rips a new hole in your heart at his words, at the endearment dripping from those sinful lips. “You don’t mean that.” Eyes close to keep from staring into russet browns. Trying not to give in and foolishly hope he means what he speaks.

“I do hermosa,” eyes popping open at the barest brush of his chapped lips against yours, widen orbs find his shut, brow furrowed. “I don’t want to loose you.”

“Javier,” breathlessly whispering his name. The intensity of Javi’s declaration scares you not wanting to believe for a second his words ring true. Not when so many broken promises lay at your feet. Yet, if there’s one thing you know about Javier Peña he’s honest, never lying to you about what he wanted. Holding back sure, not letting you in those tightly held defenses of his own fuck yes, but lie to you never. Those thoughts make others chase after. Ones that scare you into thinking you’ve made a huge mistake by asking for the transfer. Could you leave his man who holds your heart? Walk away from a relationship that’s possibly just hitting a rough patch? So engrossed in those thoughts you don’t realize he’s tipping your chin up to angle your head in the prefect position to slot his mouth over yours.

Javier’s restraint having snapped with his name slipping from your bitten lips, wanting to meld the two of you together in the only way he knows how. Showing you with his body what his words couldn’t express. Javier captures your mouth in a bruising kiss filled with demands. Teeth biting at your lips, dragging plump bottom in to abuse with nibbles and soothing over with his tongue. Harsh gasp blown from your mouth giving him access to the warm cavern. Drinking from your well, tasting your flavor on his tongue always returning for more. Tangling together as his arm tightens around your soft waist.

Garnering a moan of need from deep within your chest. Attacking his mouth with your own, fingers coming into play by carding through those thick mahogany strands tugging harshly. Receiving a growl in return that vibrates down to your very core clit throbbing in response to his rough actions.

Mouths parting to gather air, “I need you hermosa please,” desperation coloring his tone foreheads resting together. The hand still cupping your cheek slides around to gently cup the back of your head. “I need…” swallowing hard, fighting to keep from taking you hard and fast right there. Burying the fear and pain, the anger and worry into your soft gentle body. Letting you sooth the demons threatening to consume his soul. But he couldn’t, promising to never show that side of himself to you.

Those thoughts in mind Javier moves in to kiss you only to chase your mouth till you place fingers over his searching lips. Seeing a spark of need in he eyes that’s closed away before fully blooming. Leading you to remember a conversation the two of you had at the on set of your relationship. Knowing what he needed and how, you step back watching his features fall with his arms to the side.

Only to have confusion replace the crestfallen expression as you tug the t-shirt up and off your body. Standing in just your panties and jeans, “I told you a long time ago Javier I’m not made of glass this body…” hands gliding up from your waist to soft tummy and generous breasts. “Won’t break if your rough with me.” Heat sparking in eyes that will him to listen, give in and take you. “If I’m staying and we work this out you’ll have to let me in.”

Each word hits him hard square in the heart, “I don’t want to hurt you cariño.”

“You already have Javier,” head dropping you go to tug your shirt back on. Only to have it ripped from your hand and tossed somewhere unseen. That soft gasp making his heart beat triple time. Strong arms wrap around your body to bring you back into his warmth. “Fix what you broke.”

There’s no gentleness to the possessive kiss Javier captures your mouth with. Large warm hands grip your plush ass to press into your tummy the thick ridge of his jeans covered erection. Low growl slipping passed parted gasping lips that angle for the right spot to draw those whimpers and moans he can never get enough of. Separating long enough to have you rip his tan button up open, little plastic disks pinging off the wall and tiled floor. Scoring your short nails over his soft tummy, toying with the button of his jeans.

“Fuck,” hissing through kiss swollen lips that attack your neck with bitting teeth. Wanting to mark each inch of you in reminder to himself of who you derive your pleasure from. “Do that again,” demanding cadence gets a soft smirk to spread over your bitten lips.

Keeping your eyes lock, breath existing quickly because of the passionate kiss. Short nails rake up his chest and leave little red lines behind. Detouring to pinch his pebbled tight nipples receiving another low growl against the skin of your collarbone. Where his mouth sucks a purpling mark laving his tongue over the bruising skin. Enjoying the shutter he feels race down your spine.

Pushing the shirt from his shoulders Javier raises his head to stare into your desire darken eyes. “Fuck me Javier till I can’t walk tomorrow.”

Simple words ignite a passion and deep seated need inside his body to claim and wreak you. Clothing becomes nothing more than obstacles in the way of having naked skin against his own. The two of your fumbling with buttons and zippers. His parting on a sigh of relief as you push the fabric to pool around his ankles. Nimble fingers brushing through course little hairs. Leading your hand to wrap around his shaft. Thick girth barely covered by your hand that you pump along heated velvet skin.

Smirking at the groaning string of Spanish curses falling from his lips. Only replaced by the pout, when he brushes your hand away. Mouth still just inches from yours brushing taking another sip from your lips. Drowning in the taste of your mouth, the feel of your plump lips against his. Devouring the pout and only breaking to whisper, “Later princesa.” Toeing off boots and soak covered feet pressing out of jeans, naked as on his born day for your eyes to devour.

Becoming insnared with his beauty far too long for Javier’s liking. Lips licked slowly watching the bob of his jutting cock. Mouth watering in want of a taste. Quick breaths expanded his soft covered muscular chest your hands itch to dust over. His handsomeness distracting you to the point a squeal issues from the back of your throat when he pulls you by the belt loops towards the couch. Skilled fingers making quick work of getting your jeans undone warm palms sliding the fabric down your body.

Javier drops back into the couch bringing you between his spread knees and placing kisses to your tummy. Nuzzling the underside of your breasts. Looking up to ensnare your vision with his own desire filled gaze. Strong arms holding you in place while eyes close, nose rubbing into your soft scantly skin resting his head on your tummy. Hands coming up to card through his hair gently this time tugging the locks and wrapping his shoulders with your arms. Emotions clogging your throat burning with the need to release the tears of mixed feelings.

Moaning head tossing back when his warm tongue peeking out to teasing the taut nipples his hands tug your panties down. Becoming impatient and ripping the thin cotton from your body. Making you gasp and look down into those desire blacken eyes you choose happily to drown in. “You’ll…” swallowing your words on a moan as those thick skilled fingers draw through your folds. Tapping your clit several times and retreating to slide inside your clinching walls.

She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love

She's got a fine sense of humor when I'm feeling low down

And when I come to her when the sun goes down

Take away my trouble, take away my grief

Take away my heartache, in the night like a thief

“I’ll buy you more cariño and go with you to help pick out certain ones,” giving you a cheeky wink. Groaning with the feel of slick coating his fingers, smirk in place when your hands brace on his shoulders to keep from tipping over into his arms. Pulling his fingers out to suck them clean making sure your watching his every move. The resounding whimper he draws out brings the same smug grin too tug at his lips. Gripping the back of your thick thighs to spread your stance and slot his own knees between.

Pulling you down against him knees on either side of his thighs. Hiss issued at the contact of your dripping folds coating his shaft trapped between your bodies. Rolling hips to tease your own hands gripping the back of the couch to brace yourself while raising up. Deep moan breaks from your chest when Javier draws the fat cock head through your folds. Circling your clit as your hips match the movements. Waiting till he’s notched himself at your entrance before slamming down against him.

Head tossing back at the stretch and burn of him splitting you open gasps of delight echo and play with the groans from Javier. Who grips your hips, holding you against him for a time face buried in your chest. Hot mouth searching out blindly latching onto your right nipple to bite down just hard enough to make your quivering channel squeeze him tightly.

“Fuck,” single word mumbled against your skin. When you start to move setting a quick pace that’s hard and demanding. Head dropping back between your gripping hands. String of curses and praise leave his lips. “Just like that hermosa, so fucking wet for me,” grunting into your mouth that came to fuss to his. Sharing breaths while you move against his body.

Taking possession of his pleasure with a kiss that’s deep and hungry. Devouring the sounds he makes with each quick roll of your hips. Pressing your generous breasts against the hard plains of his chest, nipples brushing his skin as his own hands grip your thick soft waist. Leaving behind bruises with how tightly he holds you. One hand gliding over sweat slicked skin to cup a full ass cheek giving a squeeze before landing a hard slap.

Movements falter with the stinging pleasure coursing through your veins, “Javi.” Kiss breaking breathlessly to catch his eyes. Seeing the indecision clearly written, you nod leaning to brushing your lips over his ear, “Again please.”

Mouth buries against the spot where shoulder and neck meet, planting his feet firmly to thrust into your welcoming cunt quicker. Letting a moment pass till he lands another smack to the other ass cheek. Soothing the pain with his warm palm, “Like that princesa?” Drawing his nose over the sweaty expanse of his throat tossed back on a gasp. Bearing your neck to his hungry gaze and mouth.

Taking advantage to bite and suck, thick mustache abrading your skin in the most delicious of ways. Sending tingles to dance across your skin making your clit throb with each hard pound of his cock deep inside your quivering walls. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders for leverage as your knees sink into the couch and you bounce on Javier’s cock. Thick thighs shaking as orgasm builds quicker than you thought possible.

“Yes,” whimpering out in answer. Both hands cup your ass helping you move against him. Sweat slicked shoulders make for a tough grip movements becoming choppy and sloppy. Low whine bubbles from the back of your throat needing more but unsure how to say.

Javier picks up on the destress, pulling out making the whine lengthen. “Lay back on the couch for me hermosa,” seeing the confusion in your gaze. Javi tugs you to sit in the corner of the couch, pulling till your almost flat and he crawls between those thick thighs he wants wrapped around his waist.

Sliding back inside of you on a groan, “Still so tight for me princesa I could stay buried in your pretty pussy forever never growing tired of having your surround me.”

“Javi,” heat flares across your body at his words, face buried in your palms. Only to have them pulled and placed on his chest. Shocked yet pleased with his sentiments, the way he growls out the words setting off tingles dancing down your spine.

Gasping when he pulls out resting just the tip before surging back angling to hit that little spot only he’s managed to discover inside you. Right leg draped over his hip left dangling off the couch as your hands scrap and grope at his shoulders. Strong arms press on either side of you holding himself up while rocking his hips into yours. Setting a fast and hard pace that has you gasping, moans of incoherent words tumble from your mouth that hangs open trying to gather breath.

Watching with hooded eyes, drinking in the way you look, the passion morphing your features never wanting to let you go. To always see you in the throws of pleasure he delivers to your body. Praying to whoever will listen that you’ll stay. Those thoughts creating a fire inside his body that moves quicker.

Wanting to show you his feelings by repeatedly burying his cock deep inside your throbbing cunt. Loving your soft thick body with his mouth latching onto a breast. Nipping skin and taunt nipples, curling his tongue before biting down and switching to the twin. Feeling your nails score his back and shoulders only driving on his own pleasure.

Needing you to cum first though, Javier slides one hand between your slick bodies to caress your clit with tight circles of pressure. Smirking into your flesh when you gasp and squirm under him. His name breathlessly spoken to the heavens your back arching off the couch. “That’s my girl cum for me amor soak my cock.”

“Javier,” fingers card through his hair pulling his mouth back to yours. Tender and sweet nothing like the previous kisses as you pour your heart out to the man pounding you into the couch. Foreheads rest together, moans dripping from your lips brushing against his trying to hold back to draw out the pleasure. Afraid of the final moment he finds completion and walks out of your life maybe for good this time. “I love you,” unable to stop those three words from tumbling out. Orgasm slamming through your body with the hard thrusts of Javier’s hips. Crying out his name, arching against him breath stuck along with tears in your throat.

Swearing he heard things, Javier’s pace stuttered but his heart pounds quicker. Hips having a mind of their own as his body rushes to completion. Cumming harder than he’s ever in his life, filling your clinching walls with hot stick seed. Strength evaporated from his arms collapsing into your embrace. Burying his face in your neck, hot moist breath fanning out over your skin. Small after shocks roll through both your bodies garnering whimpers and moans from both of you.

Time, unsure of how much passes while you card fingers through his sweat slicked hair. Enjoying this moment, basking in the after glow of your love making while praying it’s not the end.

“Don’t leave,” words whispered into your skin so low there barely caught. Wondering if you’ve heard things your fingers pause watching on stuttering breath as Javier raises his head to stare into your eyes. Wondering if you meant what you said or just caught up in the pleasurable sex and let it out. It’s on the tip of his tongue to ask when you beat him to the punch.

“I… I…” words lost in the jumble of your mind unsure what to say. Fearful your passionate declaration went unheard or worse ignored.

Cupping your cheek surprised to find tears tracking down your cheek, “Don’t leave me Y/N please.”

Searching his bright russet eyes confused till you see what he’s really saying. Realization blooming across your mind your own hand coming up to embrace his cheek. Thumb swiping over the apple, “I’ll speak to Noonan.” Bringing his mouth down to yours for a soft sweet kiss.

“Do you really love me?” Foreheads resting together breath held, his eyes closed tightly fearing the answer.

Shocked he’s asking. Remembering the times you tried to get him to talk about his feelings becoming shut down pushing the conversation away or distracting you with kisses and sex. With the lengthening silence Javier dares to open his eyes catching the soft expression in yours that cracks his frozen heart.

“I wouldn’t say those words if I didn’t mean them Javi you know that,” continuing to brush your fingers over his stubbled jaw. Up into his soft sweaty hair to gently scratch his scalp knowing how much he enjoys when you do. Rewarded with a low purr from the back of his throat. “What happened today baby?”

Fear keeps him quiet for a moment till, “I almost killed a kid.” Lowering his stare to map your skin with his eyes adding the marks he left behind to his memory. Fear returning now that you’ve heard how much of a monster he’s turning into.

“Did you shoot?” There’s no accusations or incrimination, voice softly seeking a way to help sooth the demons you saw when he first arrived.

Carefully pulling from your warm depths and embrace to sit on the edge of the couch face buried in his hands. Missing the whimper at loosing his touch. You grab for the blanket draped over the back to cover yourself in self consciousness. Moving carefully to sit up and lean against his shoulder. Fingers carding through his hair slowly while placing the other around his waist. Waiting till he’s ready to start speaking not wanting to push.

She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love

Yes I need her in the daytime

Yes I need her in the night

Yes I want to throw my arms around her

Kiss her hug her kiss her hug her tight

Welcoming warmth enveloping his body that cleaves into you. Baritone rough with emotions, “No I couldn’t pull the tigger, didn’t want to shoot some kid who’s stupidly following the orders of a man who doesn’t care about him.”

“Listen to me Javi you’re not Escobar you’ll never have that narcissistic attitude.” Turning his face to look at you, brushing the stubble with your fingertips. “Yes you’ve done some questionable things for good reasons to take down this asshole who would gladly see all of Columbia burn just to get and keep what he wants.” Leaning in to brush your nose against his, “I couldn’t love a man who killed people for kicks Javier. That’s not what you do. You save people, protect them as best you can.”

Unworthiness filtering through his thoughts never expecting to find someone who loved him faults and all. Intertwining his fingers with the hand previously on his cheek bring the back to his lips to place a kiss. “I don’t deserve you hermosa,” swallowing harshly letting your hand go to stand. Unconcerned with his nakedness Javier stretches popping his back then looking down at you.

Worry etched in those beloved eyes that stare unblinkingly at the spot he just vacated. “Leaving now?” Biting off the words tears clouding your vision mistaking his declaration as rejection pulling the blanket tighter around your plush body.

Forefinger and thumb pinching the end of your soft chin raising your gaze to meet his, “Why would I leave when everything I want and love rests with you.”

“Javier?” Voice wobbling with unshed tears.

Pulling the blanket from your body taking in the curves and dips, the softness he’s itching to get his hands back on. But right now Javier brings the nearest hand to his lips, brushing the knuckles with his mouth mustache tickling your skin. Keeping your eyes locked as he tugs you up into his arms. “I’m serious Y/N I don’t deserve you but without you I’m a shell of a man,” bringing his free hand up to cup your cheek deep russet eyes burning with love staring into yours.

“What are you saying?” Fear coating the words, afraid it’s all a dream and you’ll wake without Javier beside you.

Drawing your mouth closer, strong arm wrapping around your thick waist, “I’m saying I love you Y/N and if you’ll have me I’m yours till you kick me out for driving you crazy.”

“You already do that Javi,” watery giggles escaping your lips that brush his twice. Reaching up to card fingers through the soft strands at the back of his head tugging just a little harder than normal. “Say it again.”

Grunting at the tugs sliding a hand down to cup a generous bare ass cheek to give a squeeze. “Drive you crazy.”

Just barely holding in the squeak, “No,” eyes rolling at his cheek. “You know what I mean Javier Peña.”

“I do,” slotting his mouth against yours stealing the breath from your lungs as he kisses you with a passion never felt before. Barely breaking to mumble those three simple words into your lips, “I love you.” Getting lost in your kiss while silently vowing to never let you go or break your heart.

And when I'm returning from so far away

She gives me some sweet lovin' brighten up my day

Yes it makes me righteous, yes it makes me feel whole

Yes it makes me mellow down in to my soul

#Request #Sequel to Heel's #Javier Peña x Plus Size Female Reader #Javier Peña x Plus Size Fem! Reader #Javier Peña x Plus Size F!Reader #Female Reader #Smut

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escaping-explosions · 4 years

Text

Tease - Aizawa Shouta x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+, daddy kink, creampie, smut up the ass, teasing, choking, sex toy use, sexting

A/N: I’ve been obsessed with the idea of Aizawa being tortured by his SO and then fucking them furiously so I made it and I definitely wrote it all in one night so there’s probably a lot of mistakes so pls be kind I haven’t written in a long time ;-;

You were about to be murdered. You definitely had the feeling that you were going to enjoy what whatever was coming to you but you were definitely going to die sometime tonight.

Aizawa’s eyes were burning holes into the sheer blouse that settled gently around your shoulders but you paid him no mind, continuing to prattle on whatever ridiculous subject Nezu had requested you speak about. All of Aizawa’s students paid rapturous attention, leaning forward in their seats as you spoke. The thoughts of the number ten hero, y/h/n, were important stuff after all.

“Okay, does anyone have any questions?” your perky voice shook Aizawa out of his stupor. Shame, anger and arousal crawled over his skin in turn as he lifted his gaze to meet your piercing y/e/c eyes. Try as he might, Aizawa couldn’t shake the vision of the filthy fucking photos you had sent him right before you entered his classroom. Unsuspecting of your true intentions, he had opened the files and choked on his coffee. The chatter of the classroom had stilled as a few of his students asked frantically if he was okay. He brushed them off as he scrolled through the photos you had sent him. The first ones had been innocent enough pictures of you getting dressed but the next few were… lewd to say the least. In one, you were flashing the soft dove grey lingerie set he had gotten you for your birthday to the camera, breasts pushed high by the bra. That was enough to make his mouth water but the next photo was you lifting the long, modest skirt you were wearing to show your fingers pressed against your dripping, wet pussy. The lacy thong was dark with your slick and you had evidently been playing with your pussy for a while because your fingers were wet up to the knuckles. He had shivered at the image, cock already getting hard as he yearned to take a taste and it took everything in him not to lick the surface of the phone itself.

The last photo was the true reason why he was currently so feral and why he was rock hard under his black joggers. It must have taken you forever to get the angle right in the mirror but you had bent over, hiked up the skirt and peeking from underneath the lace thong, was a gold princess plug with a red stone on the end. You had taken the photos this morning right before leaving the house and made sure to hit send to Aizawa before you walked in the room just to rile him up. You knew exactly what that would do to him: the thought of you pressing the plug into your ass and then strutting into his classroom like you owned the place. You hoped it would drive him wild and by the absolutely irritated look he had on his face when you walked in, you accomplished your goal and then some.

Aizawa ground his teeth together as hands shot up into the air, clenching his hands at his side. The softness of his pants grounded him reality. He was about to crawl right out of his skin if he didn’t get his hands on you like, yesterday, but these damn brats won’t stop asking questions. He didn’t blame them for being starstruck, you were pretty incredible but lord help him. He instead focused on how your voice sounded as it cheerily and sweetly answered all the inane questions that the brats asked, focused on how your eyes sparkled with pure, liquid evil, focused on how he was going to get his revenge on you later.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After class was dismissed for the day, Aizawa had requested that you meet him in his classroom so you could have go home together since you took the bus over.

And, you hoped, for a naughty rendezvous in his classroom.

You rubbed your thighs together in anticipation, the cool, wetness between your legs only hastening your stride. You had been toying with this idea of teasing Aizawa at school for a few months now so when Principal Nezu called to ask if you could speak to the class, you accepted without hesitating. The purchasing of the outfit and the plug were a little difficult since you lived with your boyfriend and his prying eyes but thankfully you had a very deep hall closet where things tended to get… “lost”. The get up for today had been squirrelled away and had been thrown on in a rush as soon as Aizawa had left to teach this morning.

Judging by the thunderous expression on your boyfriend’s face as you entered his classroom, you were going to get exactly what you wanted.

“Hi baby!” You strode across the room and fell into his lap to give him a kiss but he pushed you away. Hurt bloomed in your chest. Was he… That upset about the photos?

Aizawa closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, his brows knitted together in annoyance. He inhaled deeply, exhaling through his nose, a clear sign that he was stressed beyond measure. Your heart stuttered in your chest, suddenly regretful and unsure of yourself and your behavior today. Was it too much? It was probably too much.

“I fucking hate you.” You flinched at his words, a cold slap of words shocking you. Your head dropped in shame, the burning spreading across your cheeks and threatening to spill out of your eyes. Damnit, you really miscalculated this one.

“Get on the fucking desk.”

Your head snapped up, shocked as hell.

What?

Black, burning eyes met your gaze when you lifted your head. Aizawa’s eyes burned with fury, desire, and a hunger you’ve only seen a couple times from him. Boy oh boy, did it make you weak in your knees and your thighs squeezed together in reflex. With just with one look, your boyfriend already had you in the palm of his hand, dripping wet to the point you could feel strings of your slick sliding down your thighs.

He clicked his tongue in exasperation. “Kitten, I don’t like repeating myself. Get on the fucking desk or you’re going to be punished even more than I had initially planned.” Aizawa impatiently thumped the surface of the desk with his fingers and you didn’t hesitate to scramble up, crossing your legs as you did so but your boyfriend shook his head at this. “Don’t be shy now kitten, spread your legs so I can see that fucking pussy.” His voice was low, almost a growl as he ordered you to expose yourself to the cool air of the classroom. As he spoke, he smoothed his large palms up your calves. You shivered at his touch, tensing up slightly in anticipation of what was to come. Aizawa slid his hands under your skirt as his hazy black eyes zeroed in on your legs, pushing it up as he caressed your thighs in almost worshipful tenderness. Your heart softened for a second: he was always like this, touching you like you were something precious and delicate.

The soft touches quickly turned rough as your boyfriend forced your legs apart and hooked his fingers into your lacy thong in one motion. His voice hardened as he spoke. “You’re such a fucking slut, Y/N. Coming into my classroom with a goddamn buttplug in, talking to my fucking kids about school when I know all you want is to be plugged full of my fucking cum.” You shivered as you let out an involuntary mewl. Your boyfriend was the best at dirty talk and when he was furious like this, it only increased a hundredfold.

“Oh come on baby,” you tease breathlessly, your pussy clenching as your panties were pulled unceremoniously off. “You know you-“ The rest of your sentence was choked off as your boyfriend brought the completely soaked material up to his nose and inhaled the scent of your arousal. You whimpered, wishing it was your pussy next to his mouth. His tongue slipped out from between his lips and he lapped at the slick that coated the lace trapped between his fingers. His eyes fluttered shut as he could taste how turned on you were.

“What a filthy fucking slut. You’re so wet, look at you.” Without preamble, Aizawa dropped his hand to between your thighs and shoved two of his long fingers into your sloppy cunt causing you to throw your head back with a groan.

Oh fuck. Aizawa’s fingers filled you up in ways you had been needing all day and you rocked your hips in desperation, trying to get him to move them inside you but he remained still.

“Shouta plea-“ Your pleas were cut off by Aizawa’s sudden grip on your throat. Your breath caught and your eyes widened as you felt his fingers flex in a silent threat. “If the next words out of your mouth aren’t ‘please’, ‘more’, or ‘Daddy’, I don’t want to fucking hear it, kitten,” he spat out, his face twisting with lust and anger. “Got it?” You nod furiously, thankful that he was holding onto your throat or you would have been crying for his fat cock. Already, the slight lack of oxygen was making your head swim in the most delicious way as Aizawa gently leaned you back onto the table. He released you for a brief moment to snag a hair tie from his desk. With the darkest, smoldering look in his eyes, he tied his long hair back into a loose bun and renewed his grip on your throat.

Slightly reclining, his forearm was pressed against your chest to ensure that you didn’t move and that his grip stayed on your throat. Aizawa lowered his head between your thighs and you could feel yourself get wetter as he exhaled on your pussy. He admired the glistening shine of your arousal that coated your thighs and was leaking out of your pussy before diving in. Your shout of surprise turned into a cry of pleasure. Your dark haired boyfriend ate your pussy like a man starved, tongue fucking you as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. His tongue was slithering up and down your slit, dipping into your hole as his fingers pulled out. Occasionally, he would give a gentle suck to your clit which made you thrash, threatening to throw his hand off your neck.

“D-Daddy,” you whimper, slapping your hand over your mouth in hopes of strangling the cries before they came out. Aizawa pulled away from your pussy and in a low, dangerous voice that sent shockwaves straight to your pussy, he said “Don’t do that, I want to hear you cry.” His piercing black eyes latched onto yours as you shakily let your hand fall from your mouth. This entire time, he hadn’t stopped fingerfucking you, the desk slightly squeaking across the linoleum from the force of his pumping. You nodded at him and let out a high moan, the wet squelching of his fingers in your pussy sending your hormones through the roof. Your orgasm rapidly approaching, you let your head fall backwards and your eyes rolled back, fingers grasping at the loose fabric of your boyfriend’s black sweater.

All of the sudden, you were too empty and your eyes flew open.

“W-Wha, Daddy! Please!” You stuttered in betrayal at being brought to the edge and then left hanging. You were so close to cumming, you would have done anything but Aizawa had other ideas. His expression was cool but his eyes still burned with the same anger and lust from before as he sat backwards into his teacher’s chair.

“Filthy slut, you don’t get to cum before I do.” Your breath caught in your throat as you watched his heavy cock spring free of his sweats. His cock looked angry and dark, head purpling and wet with precum and you couldn’t wait to get it inside of you. Aizawa lazily picked up your abandoned thong, still soaked with your arousal and gripped it in his palm with his cock.

Black eyes bored into your own as he began to stroke his cock with your panties. The slick sound of his cock against the fabric was so hot, you were surprised that you didn’t burst into flames. As much as you wanted to reach for him, you knew that he would continue to deny you your orgasm if you misbehaved so you fidgeted in your spot, wishing it was your cunt wrapped lovingly around his cock, slicking it up with your wetness instead. Aizawa let his head drop back, letting out a guttural groan as he stroked his cock, already imaging your tightness wrapped around him.

“Fuck baby, do you know what the fuck you did to me today? How badly I wanted to fuck you all fucking day?” You whimpered and snuck a hand between your thighs, a couple of fingers pressing deep into your pussy hoping to take the empty ache away. The soft wet noises of you both touching yourselves filled the room. “Your slutty little cunt is just waiting to be filled with my load, isn’t it baby?” Aizawa grunted, twisting his wrist a little as he continued to jerk off. “You want to be bred, baby? You’ll really be able to call me Daddy then, won’t you?” You jerk your head in agreement, desperately scissoring your fingers inside yourself as you tried to find that spot in you that would see stars.

“Come over here baby, come ride Daddy’s fucking dick,” the dark haired man growled, tossing your panties to the side and you threw yourself off the desk and into his lap. With one fluid motion, your boyfriend had turned you around and spread your legs. You marveled at his strength, he had your leg hiked up in the air with one arm, exposing you to the silent room. With the other hand, he grabbed his cock and gently tapped it against your slit, the tackiness of your slick dripping down his cock. You helped him guide his cock into your waiting entrance and let out a long, low moan at the feeling of your boyfriend’s fat fucking cock stretching your tight cunt. As soon as he got the head of his cock in, Aizawa got impatient and dropped you onto his cock, punching a shout of surprise from your lungs.

You hooked your arm around his neck so you could see his face as you experimentally rolled your hips. Both of your eyes rolled back as you started to move, your tight channel sucking him in deeper and deeper and his girth stretching you in ways you had been craving all day. As he filled you, you could feel the plug that was in your ass moving in tandem, seperated from his cock by only a thin layer in your body. You were so full but you couldn’t help yourself, you kept fucking yourself back on his cock. With every bounce, you jostled the plug inside you and it just felt so good to be so full that you continued to ride your boyfriend. The lewd slapping sounds of your bodies moving together made you both moan in lust. Aizawa attempted to muffle his moans by sucking one of your nipples into his mouth, grazing his teeth across the skin. This earned him a high pitched whine from you and you bounced even harder on his cock, feeling your orgasm nearing.

“D-Daddy,” you gasped, sparks firing off low in your belly.

“Yeah, yeah baby, you gonna cum?” Aizawa panted, reaching around and gently stroking your clit. “Cum on baby, cum on Daddy’s dick.”

Hearing your boyfriend give you permission to cum was all you needed to push you over the edge. You screamed as the force of your orgasm hit you like a truck, slick squirting out over Aizawa’s fingers and dripping down his cock. Your boyfriend wasn’t far behind, biting into your shoulder to mask his cry as he came inside you, the pulsing of his cock almost arousing you again.

As you both came down from your highs, you could feel Aizawa laughing into your shoulder.

“Nasty, naughty fucking girl.”

#aizawa smut #aizawa x reader #BNHA imagines #mha aizawa #tw: daddy kink #tw: choking #tw: sex mention #my hero academia aizawa #aizawa shouta

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