#unedited readers beware lol

[ohtobealady]

I LIVE FOR YOUR POSTS!!! I was wondering if you could do a story about Cora and Robert being at a ball/dinner and people either not realizing Cora is from America(they don’t know her) or they are judging her for being American and Robert gets PISSED!!! And/ or there’s a situation where the entire family sticks up for Cora being American lol. THANK YOU ❤️

I hope you like what I did with the prompt! I know it isn’t exact, but this screamed young!cobert to me :) thank you for the chance to Drabble it out xoxo

-/-/-/-:-/-/-/-

She had heard them.

She hadn’t seen them, nor had they seen her as she’d maneuvered her way along the back wall. She’d slipped as quietly as she could from the ladies’ private area toward the party, pulling her skirts this way and that, squeezing past a pedestal with a too-large flower arrangement. No. They hadn’t noticed her, and so they hadn’t minced their words; she’d heard the group of gentlemen huddled besides the refreshments.

“Had anyone a clue Downton was in such dire straits?”

“No. But then desperate times do call for desperate measures.”

And in spite of her logical nature, Cora’s cheeks had burned there in the shadows.

Oh, she was no fool. She half-expected this, after all: the wide-eyed searching stares in the ballrooms of Robert’s youth. And why shouldn’t they ogle? She’d been the one to win him over. She’d been the one he’d married instead of their sisters and nieces and cousins who’d been flung at him year after year. And then, after only a few short months, Cora had been the one he’d asked.

Truth be told, up until now she’d been pleased with the attention. She was a Lady, a Viscountess. A wife. And her heart had tripled in size and beat along gaily in her breast as Robert had whirled her around the various dance floors this season, a collection of new tiaras sparkling in her hair.

But they’d managed to wake her from her dreaming. The four lords who’d stood at the table had indeed woken her from her naivety, the little innocence about the world that she somehow had smuggled through the threshold of womanhood: the belief that her mother was wrong, and people cared far less about her name, origins, and money than she said. But Cora saw now. Mother was not wrong. She was hardly ever wrong.

Their words—neither insult nor praise, but merely an observation—had taken off the blinkers she’d worn around her eyes, and her heart shrank and sunk into itself. She began to return to every evening in her mind, watching herself as if she were someone else. Did she play the part as she should? Did she behave as a Viscountess? Why was it now that they’d mention it if she had? Why would those men, who had known Robert for far longer than she had, feel the need to say she was the desperate measure? Desperate?

Oh. Oh, and while she knew he had been desperate for a savior, she hoped she didn’t make him seem desperate now. She hoped—hoped with every little fracture of her quickly breaking heart—that she did make make him appear desperate, but fortunate.

She hoped she didn’t embarrass him.

But the others? As she looked across the ballroom at her new English family, Cora didn’t care much about the others’ feelings. She didn’t care much for the feelings of her father-in-law who had contributed to the situation Robert’s family had found themselves in, needing her money. Nor did she care much about how much embarrassment she caused Mama, who had brought next to no money into the family at her own marriage. Why should she feel any shame about herself where Violet was concerned. And Rosamund, her husband’s barely younger sister who had married money just as Robert had, well she seemed perfectly content with the way everything had turned out.

But Robert. Cora watched him from the shadowy place she hid. His smiles, his nods, his happy little chortles of laughter into his champagne.

Dear Robert who loved his Downton more reverently and tenderly than one could love a parent or a child.

He deserved to be proud. And he deserved someone he could be proud of.

Cora, with her face still burning and exhaustion creeping into her joints, looked around her and went back along the way she came. Avoiding the men. Going back to Robert by an altogether roundabout way to spare herself—and the group of whispering men, too—any awkwardness at finding her there.

She managed to go back around. She managed to squeeze through two groups of people laughing together. And when she emerged into the candlelight of the party, he was there, on the other side of the ballroom, his round chin tilting upward with his champagne and his blue eyes twinkling when he spied her coming towards him.

She tried her best to return his smile.

“Seems as if Shrimpie did remember after all,” he said once she was at his side, returning to their earlier conversation she hardly remembered now. “A Benedict Griffith, apparently. I could’ve sworn his name was Leonard, but there you have it. Shrimpie’s memory has always been far better than my own.” She watched him narrow his gaze. “But don’t tell him I said that.”

She attempted a laugh at his joke, but she could not make it come. Instead there was only a small hum, and Robert peered down at her.

“What is it?”

Cora shook her head. “Nothing. Truly.”

“But it isn’t nothing.” Her heart fluttered at the way he leant down nearer to her. At the way he so easily read the expression she tried her best to hide. “Has Mama said something to you?”

“It wasn’t your mother,” she sighed. “And besides, she only tries to help.” And it was the truth. As much as Cora loathed to say it.

Robert was silent. He stared at her. Even as other couples rejoined the dance floor as another waltz was struck up, he blinked down at her.

“Someone has said something to you.”

Cora opened her mouth to protest, for they did not, but Robert spoke instead.

“Who was it? What have they said?”

“They didn’t know I was there,” she whispered at last, and she shook her head. “They didn’t mean to upset me. And … I don’t know … perhaps they’re right.”

“If someone has upset you, they aren’t right, Cora.”

She felt herself look up at him, searching him, sure her face gave away the truths she held in her heart. She felt as he gently took her gloved wrist in his fingers.

“Come now. It’s your first season as Lady Downton. You deserve to enjoy it.”

He was trying to cheer her. His small smirk and jump of his brows—it warmed her thoroughly and she felt her eyes water at the sincerity of it all. “But that’s just it.”

He pinched his brows. “What?”

“As Lady Downton—I’m a disappointment to you. Aren’t I?”

She watched as his brows dipped ever lower.

“What? Why would you think that you are?”

“Only—“ she looked away from him. She looked at the people spinning on the floor, at the ladies’ dresses swaying and at the men’s tails hitting at the back of their knees. She heard the gentle rumble of conversation around them. And she felt her chest grow tight. “—well, there are so many other English girls who would’ve married you in an instant. So many who wouldn’t have made it seem as if you—“ she lowered her voice. “After all, there are only so many reasons why an English lord might marry an American.”

Cora regretted it the moment she said it. She regretted it for she hadn’t cared the reason he married her. She didn’t care that he needed her money … that’s what it was meant for anyhow, wasn’t it? But she did care now that the pigments in which it painted him were an uncanny dollar-green. And she did care about the way he stiffened slightly before her now, the way he drew back from her, the way he closed his mouth tightly and then looked away. It all made her bitterly regret ever bringing it up.

“Robert—“ she began, but he stopped her.

“Perhaps.”

She looked at him. She waited for him to continue.

“Perhaps I did have that reason, but…” Cora felt the way his fingers moved from her wrist, and to her palm. “I hope I’m as little a disappointment to you as you are to me.” Here, he leaned closer still. “And I hope I can make you just as happy.”

Her heart now fluttering like a bird, Cora smiled in spite of the burn at her eyes, the sting at her nose. And she nodded as he took her once more out onto the dance floor, spinning her around again, her tiara twinkling in her hair…her hand in his.

[strwbrychffoncke]

"and so i drank one ,it became four ,and when i fell on the floor i drank more,, 2.4k words synopsis: lads men taking care of you when you're drunk contains: lads (separate) x drunk!reader ,f!reader (use she/her pronouns around + femme petnames) ,fluff, some drunk comfort ,completely self-indulgent (based on me when i drink so keep in mind) ,reader is a lightweight (lol) ,some suggestive dialogue but nothing happens its mostly teasing ,that might be it note: unedited! wrote after drinking myself so beware of typos lolol, this was written in honor of the new yrs :x

-

zayne

(implied) established relationship, you're at his place, doctor zayne mode activates, reader is pretty clingy, zayne gets you water, you get carried, you sleep in his bed, he hides the alcohol from you (lol???)

"it looks like someone overindulged themselves tonight."

"huuuuuh?"

you tilt your head, innocent eyes finding zayne's hard gaze.

"whad'y mean?"

coming home to see various alcohol bottles sprawled out across the kitchen counter, and a couple of empty bottles of some sweet mixed drinks you had sitting in the fridge for who knows how long was not something he expected after another long shift at the hospital.

he only sighs in response to your question, walking towards you to check you over before you cling to him.

"zayyyyne, missed you soooo much," you mumble, arms encircling around one of his tugging him closer.

"you're drunk."

you burst into a fit of giggles before refuting.

"no im nottt."

"just how much did you drink this time?"

you think it over for a long moment before deciding on your answer.

"just a little," you emphasize by holding your index and thumb fingers up, a small distance in between them.

zayne leans towards you, hand rising to rest on your forehead.

"how do you feel?"

"my head feels like its going to fall off...." suddenly your expression morphs into one of worry, and your eyes water as you look up pleadingly at zayne.

"it won't fall off, will it doctor?? its so heavy, it feels like its going to fall off...."

"no, its not going to fall off," he reassures pointedly, drawing his hand back in favor of pinching the bridge of his nose.

"really????"

you look up at him, eyes wide and hopeful, and when he looks back down at you he can't help but to pat your head.

"really. now, let me examine you further."

you give a short nod, small giggles escaping your lips as he gives you a good once-over, dragging his index finger across your line of vision (noticing how you quickly lose focus and laugh instead) and taking note of your hazy, half-lidded eyes.

"my diagnosis is that you're drunk."

"i'm nooot," you whine.

"i'm going to get you some water, and then you'll get some rest."

you let out an involuntary yawn, proving his point before he stands up and turns towards the kitchen.

"i'll be right back," he says, but only manages a single step before you latch onto his hand with both of yours.

"don't leave," you whine, looking up at him again with those wide, tearful eyes.

seriously, how much did you drink????

"i'm only grabbing some water for you. i'll be back in a moment."

with that, he takes off, leaving you to giggle to yourself for a moment before calling out to him.

"zayne.... zayyyyne.... come baaaaack............ where did you gooooo?"

he's back in under a minute, and you're quick to cling to him once he's back in your sight.

"zaaaaaaayne!"

"let's get you to bed."

"carry me?" you ask, reaching your arms up as your lips curl up cutely.

he sighs before promptly reaching down for you.

"it seems this particular patient requires plenty of rest given the way she's acting."

with those words, he lifts you up with ease, carrying you bridal style towards your shared room, quickly noticing the way you almost seem to go limp in his arms by the time he gets to the bed.

you already managed to fall asleep?

after he tucks you in, he makes sure to hide every liquor bottle properly while making a mental note to tell him when you wanted to drink so that he could make sure to be with you when you did.

even if your drunk self was a handful, he thought you were still quite cute.

who knew you were such an easily amused drunk?

-

xavier

established relationship, out together before he takes you to his place, sleepy!reader (+ xav), he gives you water, affectionate!reader moment, he changes you (freak mode is not activated), cuddling

tonight, the hunter's association went out drinking to celebrate a particularly grueling mission that turned into a success.

while neither you or xavier drank much, you decided to indulge just a little given the nature of the mission.

though, despite xavier's warning for you to not overdo it, he watches as you down your second drink as he sips on his water, already preparing himself for the trouble you'll be causing later.

which leads to now, supporting you (almost like half-carrying you) as he unlocks and leads you through the entrance of his apartment.

"ah, im so.. sleepy...."

"yes, me too. the sooner we get you in, the sooner we can get to bed," he reassures.

you're led to his sofa, falling back into the cushions as he runs off to retrieve water from his fridge for you.

when he comes back, your eyes are closed.

he bends himself to your level, nudging your cheek with his finger.

"hey, don't fall asleep before drinking some water."

"head hurts.." you mumble.

"the water will help, come on."

he opens it for you, pushing it towards your lips.

they part, and he takes the opportunity to tilt the bottle slightly, hydrating you himself.

after ten seconds, he pulls it back, wiping a stray droplet from the corner of your lips before screwing the lid back on.

"why would you drink so much when you can't handle it at all?"

you chuckle at this, and he sighs.

"come on, let's get to bed, i'm tired too."

"sleepy time," you mumble as he grabs your hand and helps you to your feet, steadying you with both his hands.

"sleepy time indeed," he nods once, leading you to his bedroom.

right at the doorway, you suddenly wrap your arms around him, planting sleepy kisses across his cheek.

"oh?"

xavier is stunned for a moment but accepts the drunken affection, wry smile forming on his lips.

you pull away to look at him.

"you're so pretty," you sigh, gaze faraway yet almost enchanted by him.

he laughs at this.

"come on, lets get to bed already."

he helps you shed your outer clothes before ridding of his own, pulling one of his sweaters over your head as he pulls on sweatpants, tugging you to fall into the mattress with him.

he hugs you close, planting a kiss on your head, then your cheek, your nose, and then your lips as your breaths even out.

"sleep well, my lovely star."

-

rafayel

implied established relationship, whiny!reader, teasing!raf, he calls you "cutie," you're at his studio/home

truth be told, rafayel loved when you got like this.

since you didn't drink often, it was quite the treat for him to see you as clingy and needy as he felt for you on a daily basis.

"raaaaaaaaf," you whined.

"yes, cutie?"

you hugged him.

"'s so hot," you breathed out, slumping beside him.

he laughed.

"but i opened the window to let the sea breeze in awhile ago, isn't it working?"

you pout, shaking your head before quickly regretting it, laying it back down against his shoulder.

"not at all."

"you poor thing," he said half-teasing, reaching his free hand out to pat your head.

"raf."

"hm?"

"rafayel."

"yes?"

"ra-fa-yeeeeel."

he broke into a wide smile.

"need somethin', cutie?"

"jus' like your name," you mumbled.

"oh? really?"

"mhm."

"well, i like yours more."

"nope."

"mhm."

"no."

"do too."

suddenly, you reach for his hand.

you tug it towards you before beginning to trace his fingers.

"are you a fortune teller now or something?

he maneuvers his hand so that his fingers intertwine with yours.

"too bad, looks like you can't see it anymore."

you giggle at him.

"stay like this?" your words come out as a question.

"there's nothing i'd want more," he answers, heart full at the satisfied smile on your face before cuddling into him once more.

-

sylus

relationship can be seen as established or not tbh, he calls you "kitten" several times, incorrect use of evol? (but its to save reader from falling lol), you get carried, he comforts you

sylus walks into the kitchen as you step out, taking note of the various alcoholic beverage cans and bottles across the counter.

"having a party without me, kitten?"

you shake your head.

"no, no," you smile. "jus' needed t' grab som'ing" you manage to slur out, headed towards the stairs.

he watches you as you begin making your way up some stairs before you stumble.

before you can even register that you're falling, black and red tendrils wrap around your body, catching you with ease.

your airy laughs fill the room, uncaring of you almost falling down the stairs, the feeling of the tendrils circling your waist and thighs almost electrifying against your sensitive skin.

"s-s-sylus! aha! tickles, hahaha-!"

the man in question half grins at your reaction, none the wiser to the surge of panic you just caused him.

in no time at all, he's beside you, tendrils gently uncurling from you as he looks down at you.

"such a clumsy kitten," he shakes his head. "what will i do with you?"

you're still swaying slightly, blinking up at him, and he doesn't wait for an answer that you may or may not give before hauling you over his shoulder, causing a surprised sound and you erupting into another fit of giggles.

he holds you securely, making his way towards his room with you, the pleasant sound of your amused laughs his favorite melody.

he passes by luke and kieran, asking them to do away with the beverages that are still out on the counter.

"is she... alright?" luke asks out of concern.

"oh, she's just fine. it seems a little kitten can't hold her liquor very well," he shakes his head.

after they leave (you waving at them as they disappear into the distance) sylus feels you shiver against him.

"cold?"

"so cold..."

"don't worry, kitten," he begins, pushing the door to his room open. "you'll be warmed up in no time."

he wastes no time gently dropping you into bed, watching as you bounce slightly on the mattress, a pleased sound escaping you as you waste no time to get under the covers.

"are you alright?" he asks, head tilted and concern lacing his tone.

you nod before you frown.

"stomach hurts...."

"my poor kitten."

sylus quickly turns out the light, settling beside you as his large hand comes up to rub over your belly.

you curl into him, pleased grin stretching across your lips, and without realizing it, you've drifted off in sylus comfort and warmth.

he doesn't know how long he stays by your side, gaze fixed on your sleeping face as he continues soothing the spot of pain, but he knows that in this moment, there's nowhere he'd rather be.

-

caleb

implied established relationship, slight suggestive remarks, worried!caleb, caleb teasing you

when you stumble your way through the front entrance of your home, the first thing you're met with is caleb, hands crossed over his chest as he stares down at you, unamused.

before you can greet him, he speaks up.

"do you have any idea what time it is?"

your eyes slowly shift up to his, and you can't help but to burst into a fit of giggles.

"hiiii," you drag out once your laughing begins to subside.

caleb stares down at you for a moment, taking in your slightly disheveled state and your lack of comeback, hardened expression softening just slightly.

"are you.... drunk?"

you burst into giggles again as you deny his accusation.

"not at alllll," you deny, swaying side to side.

"ok, you're literally just lying."

you move to take another step but somehow stumble right into caleb, who quickly wraps his arms around you.

"what the hell did you drink, pipsqueak?"

"dunno..." you trail off, closing your eyes, feeling comforted by caleb's embrace.

"'m dizzy.. so sleepy...."

"ok, let me just get you to your room first, yeah?"

you nod, allowing yourself to be led by caleb to your bedroom.

you make it quickly, not without a few more stumbles, mostly leaning on caleb's large frame for support as you're led to sit down in your desk chair.

"ok, wait here, i'll be right back."

when he leaves your gaze lingers around your room, darting across the shelves and decorations as if its unfamiliar before you slump down in the chair.

you sway side to side for a bit before you allow yourself to slip down further, sinking down down down until you're splayed out on the soft carpet.

just as you make yourself comfortable, hurried footsteps get closer and enter through the doorway.

"ok, i'm back, i have-"

caleb pauses, staring down at you before his eyes crease in amusement.

"pipsqueak, what are you doing on the floor?"

"'s comfy," you answer, grabbing a nearby plushie (that caleb won for you) and hugging it to your chest. "wanna sleep here."

"well, you can't."

"why?"

"because your bed is right there."

"don' wanna get up..." you whine, eyes shut and curling up comfortably.

he sets down the water and medicine bottles he brought in on your bedside table before his attention is on you again.

"making me do the work like usual, huh?"

you don't have time to try and process the underlying meaning of his words before you feel yourself being lifted, erupting into laughs at the action before you're tossed onto your bed, bouncing against the mattress before you're settled, amusement still circulating the room.

"caleb!"

you're looking at him through your creased eyes, half closed as you slowly recover from your fit, watching as he shrugs, teasing smile playing at his lips.

"you said you couldn't get up, so i helped you."

when the giggles subside, you're both staring at each other for awhile before caleb breaks his gaze away.

"ok, you should really sleep now. do you need anything else before i go?"

"you?"

your answer comes out so simply, so honestly, that it catches him off guard, stuck in momentary shock when you speak up again.

"sleep with me," you pat the side of your bed.

he recovers from his shock at these words, smirk breaking out.

"oh? really, pipsqueak?"

"caleeeeb," you whine.

he puts his hands up in mock surrender.

"kidding, kidding," he closes the distance, standing right at the side of the bed.

"you sure you want me to sleep with you?"

"yes," you say, grabbing his hand.

"ok, ok, let me just get the light first."

he switches the light off, making his way back over before being tugged into bed by your eager pull.

even after he falls into the mattress with an oof, he quickly settles in before teasing you again.

"you sure you don't have any ulterior motives in pulling me into bed with you this time?"

when you don't pipe up again, he takes a look to see you having already dozed off.

he sighs, hand reaching up to cup and caress your cheek.

"sleep well, my pipsqueak. i'll be sure to punish you for worrying me so much tomorrow," he whispers his promise into the night, sealing with a kiss to the corner of your lips before slipping his eyes shut.

with you safe and secure in his arms, he could finally fall asleep peacefully tonight.

-

a/n: writing this after drinking hehe... i want to write more detailed (maybe full fics) of lads x drunk!reader but wrote these little imagines up for nowwww... i would like them all to dote on me but i think im quite funny in this state hehe -

[evansbby]

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: bestfriend!Ari Levinson x naive!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: HEAVY SOMNO, dark!Ari, smutt, daddy!kink, non-con, 18+ only, minors dni.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your best friend, Ari, wants to fuck you. And he doesn’t care if you’re awake or asleep...

𝐀/𝐍: SUPER DARK. Please, if you don’t like, don’t read! The whole thing is basically somno, and this is a dark fic! Please beware of that. Apart from that, enjoy! Also, this is completely unedited lol please be kind.

“Ow! Ari! I told you; my boyfriend won’t like it if you do that!”

“What? This?”

Ari plants his lips against the nape of your bare neck, giving the sensitive skin a hearty suck. His fingers dance down your body, digging into your ribs and making you giggle and squirm on top of him.

“Stop! It hurts!”

“Oh yeah? Why are you laughing, then?” He tickles you harder, holding you tightly in his arms lest you try to escape. You’re too busy laughing your head off to notice his lips press against your skin once more, his tongue lathering at the hickey he’s just given you. And then he sucks again, so hard that your laughter is cut short and you gasp, feeling like your sensitive skin is going to break as he continues to suction it.

“Nooo, Ari, please! Steve won’t like that! He’ll get the wrong idea!”

Ari draws back and smirks, “Please. We’ve been best friends longer than you’ve been going out with Steve. And best friends are allowed to cuddle every now and then, I’m sure your tool of a boyfriend will understand that.”

“Hey! Don’t call him a tool!” You smack Ari on the chest but all he does is grab both your wrists with one hand, his other one snaking down to tickle you some more. You scream and laugh, trying to break free but he’s way too strong as he pins you down on the sofa, climbing on top of you and continuing to attack your ribs with his fingers.

Ari had been your best friend for years – ever since high school, to be exact. He was big and protective and strong and confident, making you feel safe whenever you were around him. He was also goofy and fun and kind, but he usually reserved those personality traits for when the two of you were alone. Everyone else knew him as Ari Levinson, the football star with huge prospects – the NFL’s newest recruit, in fact – and a man with a dangerous streak in him.

But you knew him as just Ari, the boy you’d grown up with. The one who you’d watched funny movies with till the two of you peed your pants laughing, the one who’d always helped you study for all your tests. The one who you’d shared so many of your firsts with. Your first time on a plane had been with Ari when the two of you had jetted off to Bali (a graduation present from his parents). Your first-time smoking weed had also been with Ari (he’d laughed and assured you that the police were not going to lock you up for smoking a joint).

Even your first kiss had been with Ari. (“Don’t worry, I’m just going to show you how to do it.” Ari had assured you, “No strings attached, baby. I don’t wanna jeopardise our friendship, it’s the most important thing in the world to me.”) And show you he had, and you still remember his soft lips on yours, like a warm pillow working against your mouth. His breathless whispers against you, coaxing you to use your tongue, and his big hands holding you close to him, almost like he never wanted to let you go.

You’d kissed many guys since then, but Ari didn’t know about all of them. He seemed to grow upset and irritated any time you mentioned going on a date with anyone, let alone kissing and making out and all that other stuff. All of which you’d done with Steve, your current boyfriend. In fact, Steve had taken your virginity this past summer – but Ari didn’t have to know that. It had taken him weeks to accept that Steve was your boyfriend, you knew it would take him another year to process that you’d given your virginity to Steve too.

But Ari was just protective, you always reasoned to yourself. And there was nothing wrong with that. In fact, you liked how secure he made you feel and how he was always there for you. How he always dropped everything for you, even with the bazillions of girls who were after him. (Ari, with his rugged good looks, was always popular with the ladies. But being an NFL star boosted his popularity even more – he had supermodels regularly going in and out of his house. You could confirm, you’d run into one or two a few times).

“Hello? You still there?” Ari bounces you in his lap to get your attention. “It’s no fun torturing you when you don’t give me a reaction.”

“Sorry, I was just thinking.”

He nudges your nose with his and shoots you his winning smile, the one that makes his blue eyes sparkle. “I’m the one who does the thinking, remember? You just look pretty.”

You blink, “Steve says he likes it when I space out. He wants me to write all my thoughts down so he can turn them into poetry.”

Ari rolls his eyes, “He sounds like a douche.”

You smack his hard chest once more. “He’s not. If you just agreed to meet him once, you’d like him just as much as I do.”

“I doubt it.”

You bat his chest again.

“Ow! Okay, okay, I’d like him! Now can we stop talking about Steve when it’s you and me time?” Ari huffs, giving you a squeeze. “I finally got you all to myself for the weekend and all you want to do is talk about Steve.”

“Aww, I’m sorry, Ari. What do you want to do?”

The two of you end up putting on a movie and cuddling on the couch. It’s raining cats and dogs outside, but the steady pitter-patter of the water droplets against the window creates an oddly calming atmosphere. Inside, you feel toasty warm in Ari’s embrace, the big brunette holding you tightly against his chest as he spoons you and all you can hear is the movie mixed in with the crackling of the fireplace and your best friend’s steady breathing against your neck.

“I always get sleepy when we cuddle.” You yawn, giggling when his lips find your neck again. Cuddling with Ari was always fun – the two of you had been doing it for years. Ari had told you that all best friends cuddle like this, where the two of you are so close that you can feel every part of him. Even his hard crotch as it nestles against your ass, and every few seconds he shuffles or grabs your hips and moves you up and down. But he probably doesn’t realise what he’s doing, or that you can feel him getting… excited. He probably doesn’t mean to get excited anyways.

You sometimes get excited while cuddling with Ari too. Excited down there. But you’re too shy and embarrassed to ever tell him. You’re meant to just be best friends with him, for Godsakes! Nothing more!

“Ari?”

“Mm, sweetheart?” He mumbles against your neck, where his tongue is currently licking over a spot that he’s been sucking for a while now.

“I know you said that all best friends give each other hickeys while cuddling, but I don’t think Steve would like it if he saw these.”

Ari groans, not letting up at all as he continues to suck at the one spot on your neck. In fact, you feel his teeth graze against your sensitive skin and you gasp when he bites down. Not too hard, but enough to make the mark even more prominent. God, you’d need a lot of makeup to cover that up – you knew without even looking at it.

“There you go again, talking about Steve when it’s meant to be us time. Now shh, I’m trying to relax and watch the movie. You should try and do the same.”

You do try, feeling your eyelids grow heavy as you watch the movie play out on the television. The pitter-patter of the rain outside makes you feel even sleepier, so much so that you barely even register it when you feel Ari’s hands slip under your tank top. He did that sometimes, claiming that his hands got cold very easily and he needed the warmth of your bare skin to heat them back up – which was totally understandable. His palms always felt warm against you, however, but you knew that Ari knew best.

“Is this the new bra I got you?”

You yelp when you feel his hands cup your breasts over the material of your bra, giving them a few squeezes that have you involuntarily pressing your thighs together.

“Ari!”

His hands don’t move, instead he squeezes your breasts harder, and your face grows hot as your nipples stiffen, poking through the lace material and straight against his palm.

“Well? Is it?”

“Yes, it is.” You answer, stifling a yawn and deciding you’re too tired to fight him off you. He was just feeling extra touchy – he as like that sometimes. It was purely platonic and didn’t mean a thing. And it’s not like he was feeling you up, he was probably just trying to detect the material of the bra. It was one of the few (about twelve) lingerie sets from Victoria’s Secret that Ari had had delivered to your apartment a few days ago. He was always surprising you with gifts, it was actually very sweet of him.

“Good. I like it when you wear things I bought for you.”

“Mmhmm.” You’re feeling drowsier and drowsier, and it’s so comfy being in Ari’s strong arms as they hold you in place against his chest. Cuddling with Ari really was the best, and it just made you so sleepy…

“Go to sleep, baby.” Ari croons in your ear, giving you another tight squeeze. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

*

Ari watches you drift off in his arms, his boner unbearably hard as he digs it into your ass. Fuck, you had the world’s cutest little bubble butt, and the way it was currently nestled against his dick was making him so fucking horny, it was unreal.

In fact, he was so riled up that everything you did tonight was making him horny. From the way you pranced around your apartment in those tight grey legging that made your ass pop, bending down to pick up God knows what and giving him an eyeful of your backside, making his palms itch to give it a slap or two. He’d gotten away with it in the past, various times while the two of you play-wrestled. And he’d just blame it on the innocent “rough-housing” as he’d smack your ass quickly in succession, loving how you’d squeal and dig your face into his chest in embarrassment. (Or pleasure, because Ari knew you secretly liked it).

And now here you were, cute little you practically unconscious in his arms. Wearing the pretty pink lace bra that he’d bought for you and cuddling up close to his chest. Unknowingly, you rub your butt against his crotch, making him groan in frustration. Goddamit, did you have to be so fucking hot? In your sexy leggings and your tight tank top that just about left nothing to the imagination. Not to mention how cute and innocent you were, and so much smaller than him, so much weaker than him…

“Fuck, baby, you’d run for the hills if you knew the thoughts I was thinking.” Ari tells you, giving your breasts another squeeze.

“What?” You mumble, but it seems like you’re halfway in dreamland. Which is exactly what Ari wants, because fuck it. He’s done waiting around for you, picturing you when he jacks off. He’s been doing that for years now, because he cums the hardest when he pictures you. All sweet and innocent, getting fucked by him in various positions. Crying because his cock is so big as it violates you, tears you open and claims you as he fucks you deep and hard, till you can feel him up in your womb. Till you’re screaming his name, telling him that he’s your daddy, telling him you’ll do anything for him.

Ari still remembers the first time you’d made him cum. You hadn’t been aware of it, but the way you’d bounced up and down on his lap, excited about some silly thing or the other, he couldn’t really remember. But what he does remember is busting a nut hard, your breasts pushed up prettily against his chest and your butt rubbing against his boner, practically milking his cock as he came in his pants. He’d had a taste of heaven that night, and that was years ago. He’d been sneaking more tastes ever since.

“But never the real thing,” Ari sighs to himself, his thumbs hooking under the waistband of your leggings. “I still haven’t been inside that tight snatch of yours, sweetheart. Isn’t that sad?”

You mumble something incoherent, clearly still half asleep. And Ari’s too horny to care, trying his luck by snapping the waistband of your leggings against your skin, licking his lips when you don’t stir.

“No panties, huh?” He teases you, slipping a hand down your leggings to cup your butt cheek and give it a hefty squeeze. “It’s like you’re begging me to fuck you, sweetheart. I wonder what Steve would think?”

God, Ari hates Steve. Hates him with a blind fury. He hates that the idiot blonde has weaselled his way into your life. Ari turned his back for one second (he was in the NFL, so football took up 90% of his time) and Steve just scooped you up before Ari could talk you out of it. He’s never officially met Steve, but he’s seen him. Seen him holding hands with you. Kissing you. Taking you out on dates. And Ari hates him for it.

Most of all, Ari hates that you let Steve fuck you.

“Oh, you think I don’t know that you’ve been a naughty girl?” Ari coos, chucking your chin and smirking when you pout in your sleep. He strokes your face with one hand, the other one still firmly cupping your bare ass from under your leggings. “My little baby girl, giving herself to another man. Let me tell you, baby, I was furious when I found out. I almost went over to Steve’s apartment and killed him with my bare hands.”

“But you’d hate me if I did that.” Ari sighs, pinching your cheek lightly. He licks his lips, lifting your tank top up till it rests above your chest, before pushing the cups of your bra down to your ribs. Your breasts spill out attractively, and Ari feels a thrill go straight down to his crotch. “I should’ve been the only one who ever got to see you naked. I mean, remember all those showers we took together?”

Ari had persuaded you on multiple occasions to shower with him in order to conserve water. Oh yes, he’d managed to convince you that he was all about saving the environment, and water conservation was number one on his list. And you hadn’t seemed to mind, giggling and washing his hair for him, not noticing how his eyes remained glued to your hot, soapy body, how his fingers itched to grab your hips, bend you over and fuck the living daylights out of you…

“But you just had to let Steve fuck you, didn’t you? Before I even got the chance.” He can’t help but dip his head down, latching his mouth on your bare nipple. God, he’d touched and fondled you over the years, but nothing like this. He tries to keep his excitement at bay but he can’t help but suckle the stiff peak of your nipple, growing hornier than ever as he keeps from suctioning your whole breast into his mouth, his one hand fondling your body while the other slips down to undo his fly and take his dick out.

“Mm, Ari… Is that you?” You murmur, sounding surprisingly eloquent for someone who’s meant to be asleep. But you’re indeed still asleep, softly snoring while Ari continues to have his way with you. He releases your nipple with a pop, gently turning you over so that you’re lying on your stomach, your cheek pressed against the arm rest of the couch.

“Now sweetheart, I’ll show you what it’s like to be with a real man. And I’ll make sure you remember it, even if you do think it’s all just a dream.”

He wastes not in slipping your leggings down to your knees, hungry eyes drinking in your cute, bare ass. He gives it a little smack, hands itching to hit you harder but he knows you’d wake up. And then how would he explain himself? Well, he could probably think of something (“I was just giving you a full-body massage, sweetheart. Your muscles seemed tense.”) You’d definitely believe it, since you were gullible enough to believe all the flimsy lies he’d been telling you for the past few years.

Ari presses a soft kiss to your butt, simultaneously grabbing a handful of your cheek and giving it a lewd jiggle. God, you were so sexy, lying down so nice for him as he violated your body. Well, it wasn’t a violation because he owned you. He’d owned you since the day he met you, and no sorry ass loser by the name of Steve Rogers was going to take you away from him. Steve may have gotten to pop your cherry, but Ari was going to make sure that that never happened again. The only dick you’d remember the feel of would be Ari’s, and that was a promise he was making to himself and to you. (If you were conscious right now, that is).

“You’re the hottest girl I’ve ever seen in my life.” Ari breathes, one hand on your hip and the other on his cock as he drags the tip of it up and down your ass. Tracing it over your butt cheek and smearing his precum all over the skin before he grabs and spreads your ass, pressing his dick between your crack and rubbing it up and down. “God, fuck, baby, I can’t believe you’re finally letting me do this.”

He spits, his saliva dripping down your ass crack and gathering in your puckered hole, making him grin. He’d fuck you there one day too – but you’d need to be awake and aware for that. There was no way he was stuffing his big dick inside your virgin ass while you were asleep.

“Ari? Feel kinda wet…” You mumble, trying to turn over but he presses his hand in the small of your back to keep you in place.

“You’re just dreaming, baby.” He tells you, stroking your hair to lull you back to sleep. “It’s raining outside, and so you’re dreaming of rain. That’s why you feel wet, sweetie.”

“Ohhhh, makes sense…” You answer, and Ari can’t believe his luck that you’re still asleep. Or not fully conscious… Same difference.

He spreads your ass cheeks wider, placing a pillow under your hips to prop you up. And then his eyes drink in your glistening pussy. And now he understands why you were mumbling about being feeling wet…

“Naughty little baby pussy, getting all wet just because daddy’s playing with your ass.” Ari scolds, talking to your pussy and not you. He itches to spread your wet folds with his fingers and give you a hard slap right on your bundle of nerves. But he knows the jolt from something like that might wake you up.

You’ve soaked the couch cushion underneath you, and that’s hen Ari knows you’re ready. Well, you’ll never truly be ready for his dick. Ari knows he’s bigger than average – enough girls have told him so. But none of those girls are you. He’s not in love with them like he is with you, all those supermodels and actresses are just placeholders until he settles down with you. Makes you his wife and fucks you good every single day.

“I can’t believe you’re asleep for our first time.” Ari whispers, gliding the tip of his dick up and down your slick folds. “I mean, I think it’s kind of hot, but that’s not the point. You weren’t asleep when you let Steve fuck you, were you?”

A spark of anger courses through his veins just then, and he can’t help but reprimand you by smacking your ass hard. And all you do is whimper in your sleep, his naughty little girl.

“I bet he didn’t even make you cum.” Ari breathes, mounting you and angling your hips upwards. “Not like how I will. And you know why? Because I’m your daddy and I know your body better than anyone.”

Ari still remembers the first time he made you call him daddy. It was during a game of truth or dare, and he’d dared you to call him daddy for the rest of the night. And fuck, you had done it. And his dick had grew harder and harder through the course of the night, as you addressed him as daddy all cutely, pouting those pretty lips of yours and blinking up at him innocently. Fuck, you had no idea how much of an effect you had on him. Even when he was fucking all those models, he’d imagine they were you. He chose the ones that looked like you, and sometimes he’d even call them by your name. They were too fucked out to notice, and it’s not like Ari cared about their feelings.

No, Ari only cared about you.

It feels like heaven as he slowly eases his dick inside you. You’re so wet and warm, your walls hugging his huge dick as if he’s being encased in warm velvet. God, this is everything he’d ever dreamed of, and he doesn’t even care that he isn’t the first one to fuck you. He supposes he could forgive you for that, because you’re his baby and he loves you.

“Nnngh, Ari…” You moan in your sleep before your body goes stiff with alertness, “Wh-What’re you doing?”

“Shhh, baby, go back to sleep. It’s just a dream.” Ari manages to coax you, despite the fact that your little snatch is squeezing his dick so good and he’s not even halfway inside of you but it’s such a goddamn tight fit and he knows that if you were awake right now you’d be crying from discomfort.

“Just a dream?” You murmur, before your body jolts and you let out another moan, “Mmm, Ari, so full…”

“Oh, baby, I’m gonna tear you in half.” Ari promises you, resisting the urge to drive his big dick all the way inside you from the get-go. No, you’re his baby, his princess, his best friend, and the love of his life. He has to be gentle with you – at first, at least. He doesn’t want to split you open and make you bleed. Well, he does, but there’s plenty of time to do that in the future.

He pushes his dick further into you, pinning your body in place as you squirm from the sheer size of him.

“I’m already fucking you better than that asshole boyfriend of yours ever did, huh?”

“Mmhm, yess….”

“Damn straight. I bet his cock ain’t as big as mine, huh?”

“Oh, Ari… Nooo.”

It’s a marvel that you’re asleep yet answering his questions, but he figures you think it’s all just a dirty little dream you’re having. He begins to rock his hips harder, still having trouble stuffing his whole length inside your tight pussy. Not to mention, your walls are hugging him like a vice, and he resists the urge to bust a nut every time he looks down to where you both meet.

“Call me daddy, sweetie. Like how you did that night we played truth or dare.”

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, just like that. God, I love how well you take instructions even when you’re asleep. You’re so perfect for me, sweetheart. I need to move you into my house soon. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Being an NFL player’s girlfriend? Getting fucked by me every single night till you can’t walk straight ever again. That’s just half of what I plan to do to you.”

Finally, finally, Ari bottoms out inside you, his heavy balls slapping against your pussy as he shudders with relief. You’re moaning sleepily underneath him but all he can focus on is the delicious squeeze of your walls against his thick dick, and how well you’ve taken him.

“Good girl.” Ari praises you, giving your ass another hard squeeze. “Taking your best friend’s dick so well, aren’t you? Or should I say, your daddy’s dick?”

“Daddy…” You mumble as if on cue.

“Damn right.”

Ari fucks you hard. Well, as hard as he can while still ensuring you remain asleep. He keeps a steady pace, unable to bite back his own moans of pleasure at the fact that he’s finally fucking you. And you look so pretty, your soft body underneath him, tensing and clenching around him like it’s your job to take his daddy dick in your little fuckhole.

He grabs a handful of your hair, tugging your head to the side and spitting down on your cheek. Loving how your nose scrunches up all cutely before he reaches out to smear his saliva all over your face, making you look as slutty as possible. Slutty just for him, because after tonight, no other man would ever have you like this. Or have you at all, for that matter.

“Tell me you love my daddy dick.” He repositions himself till he’s lying over you, his body pinning yours down and his chest against your back, his hips pistoning in and out of you at a steady pace. He licks the shell of your ear lewdly before nibbling on your earlobe, “Tell me you love it when daddy fucks you with his big daddy dick.”

“L-Luh your dick!”

“My what?” He slaps your ass, doing it hard even though he knows he’s pushing his luck.

“Love daddy’s dick.” You murmur dutifully, and Ari can’t believe you actually said it. A part of him wonders if it’s all an act and if you’re awake, but one look at your unconscious face, albeit sweaty and breathing hard, confirms you’re still out of it.

“Fuck, baby. Daddy can’t hold on much longer, your baby pussy is just too sweet.” Ari tells you, feeling his thrusts get faster and faster as he chases his release. But before he can even think of what’s happening next, he feels you clench around him hard.

“Nngh! Daddy!” You whimper and your body quivers and tries to toss and turn except he holds you in place, watching in awe as you cum. You squeeze his dick so tight he forgets to breathe momentarily, just watching your sweet cream squirt out of you as if you’re being paid to squirt all over him. He forgets about his own pleasure for a second, hand sneaking down and fingers finding your clit. You jolt in his arms, whimpering and moaning underneath him as he rubs your button, pinching it cruelly before slapping it. Alternating between circling and rubbing, and does he imagine it or are you humping up against his hand as he does it?

You let out the cutest squeak in the world before you cum once more, and it’s enough to tip Ari over the edge too. He grips you so hard, he knows it’ll leave bruises on your skin. But he doesn’t care, his dick explodes as he releases his heavy load inside you, not caring that he isn’t wearing a condom. Not caring that you’re not on the pill (he knows, because he makes it his business to know everything about you). The idea of getting you pregnant doesn’t deter him at all, despite the fact that he’s at the start of his NFL career. That doesn’t matter, being a football player’s pregnant wife is a look that would suit you well.

And the idea of you pregnant with his baby gets Ari hard all over again.

“Look what you’ve done, sweetie.” Ari tsk-tsks, “You’ve got daddy hard again.” He strokes your hair back, wiping the sweat off your face as you breathe hard underneath him, miraculously still asleep. “But don’t worry, I’ll give you a chance to catch your breath before I fuck you again.”

He lays on top of you, breathing hard with his dick still lodged inside you, stroking your hair and cuddling you close. And that’s when your eyes flutter open.

“Ari? What’s going on? Why do I feel so…so…”

“Shhh, baby, it’s just a dream.”

“It is?”

He sits up, fishing out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lighting one before taking a long drag, looking down at your spent body that he’s just used and feeling extremely proud of himself. “Of course. Go back to sleep, sweetheart. Daddy’s gonna take good care of you.”

“Mmm,” The claws of sleep already have you closing your eyes again, and you snuggle up closer to him, a look of serenity on your face as if you haven’t just been fucked and filled with his cum. Cigarette between his lips, Ari offers you his thumb, smirking when you immediately encase it between your lips, sucking on it like it’s a lollypop.

“Love you, Ari. Thank you for always taking care of me.”

FUCKEFNVD THE END! NFDKSLN IDEK! FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED PLS TELL ME WHAT OYU THINK AND REBLOG AND ALL THAT GOOD STUFF THANK U BYEEE

[quarantineddreamer]

@zutaramonth Day 6: From Other’s POV

(Aka B writes a crack fic, or ‘The REAL Ember Island Playwright Tells All’.) 

From the moment I had heard of the Avatar’s return I had known there was a story to be found there, but the story I had set out to write had not been the story that I returned home with. 

A forbidden romance! Fire and water, sun and moon, opposites attract, enemies to lovers! A journey of redemption! A story of love! How could I not ship it?

I had spent the better part of a year on the heels of the Avatar. My travels had taken me from the South Pole to the North, from Ba Sing Se to here. 

I breathed in the familiar smells of the Ember Island Playhouse --that odd combination of burning dust under hot theatre lights and salt in the air from the nearby ocean. It was the smell of home. 

My whole life I’d eagerly awaited this moment. Opening night. Of my play. My play! Now that it was finally here my nerves had caught up with me and my heart pounded frantically in my chest as I pushed aside the heavy fabric of curtains to duck backstage. 

“The house is opening in ten,” I said to the first person I saw, old man Ren, checking the positioning of props. He had been handling all the technical effects for the Playhouse for as long as I could remember.

For as long as I could remember Ren had also been a man of few words, perhaps a habit born out of a lifetime spent as a backstage crew member. He nodded in reply and continued arranging items on the prop table. 

I was probably being a nuisance, but I couldn’t help it. I was the youngest ever to have my work produced on this stage --playwright Shiori had a nice ring to it. 

Of course, much to my dismay things had been out of my hands after the first few rehearsals. Pu-On Tim, the director of the Ember Island Players, had insisted my constant input was only slowing things down. ‘Let me handle the story from here. Trust us.’

From the moment I had heard of the Avatar’s return I had known there was a story to be found there, but the story I had set out to write had not been the story that I returned home with. 

A forbidden romance! Fire and water, sun and moon, opposites attract, enemies to lovers! A journey of redemption! A story of love! How could I not ship it?

The pirates had told me the banished Fire Nation Prince had worn the waterbender’s necklace around his wrist like a talisman. 

Aunt Wu the Fortune Teller had confessed to me that the girl from the Southern Water Tribe was destined to have a ‘great romance’ and marry a ‘powerful bender’. ‘The Avatar asked about his fortune too, I think he hoped that I would tell him he was fated to be with the girl, but I could tell he was not the one I had sensed in her future.’

The bounty hunter, June, had shrugged when I asked about the Avatar, but remembered Prince Zuko with a laugh, ‘He wanted help finding his girlfriend.’ 

In the South Pole an old man had a tale for me that he had received directly from Katara herself, of the night of the siege. She had laughed telling him of her battle against the firebender on the ice, and laughed even harder when she repeated the prince’s melodramatic line, ‘You rise with the moon, I rise with the sun!’ I knew I’d be borrowing that line for my play.

By that time I had begun to feel like I was neglecting my duties as a storyteller. I had become distracted, paying more attention to Zuko and Katara than the Avatar himself, so I had endeavoured to refocus...

In Ba Sing Se I paid a Dai Li agent for information about what had happened when Princess Azula arrived. They had told me all about a strange energy during the battle in the crystal catacombs, about the heartbroken expression that had crossed Katara’s face when Zuko joined his sister in battle.

I had thought that might just be the end of the story, how silly I had been, imagining something between two people I had never met, nevermind the rumors that flew into the city that the Avatar was now dead. 

I had returned home. Weeks had gone by. And then came the news, the Avatar was alive, Prince Zuko had betrayed his father and left. 

Then a source sent word to me that a waterbender had attacked the retired Fire Nation Commander Yon Rha. I had paid a quick visit to the shell shocked man, and his story seemed to only back up my theory further that there was something between Prince Zuko and Katara. ‘She was accompanied by a boy with a scar on his face. She… I thought she was going to kill me, but she didn’t. I’ll never forget her face, like a spirit of death.’

I couldn’t have cared less about Yon Rha’s trauma (seemed like he deserved it if you ask me), but I did began to dream again of a tale of forgiveness and hope and love. Zuko was with her on that mission. Only Zuko...

The words had tumbled out of me in a matter of days, like I was possessed. It felt right, important, for a nation like mine, to receive a story such as that. 

Tonight, it would. 

I made my way to my seat and held my breath as the curtains rose.

When intermission came it was all I could do not to scream. What had they done? My beautiful story! It was a joke! They had taken all the emotion I had so carefully crafted, the tenderness, the trust, all the delicate, wonderful things and thrown it all away!

I sat for some time, considering all the ways in which I might get my revenge on Pu-on Tim who surely was responsible for this disaster. When a program drifted to the floor in front of me I scooped it up, only to find that my name was nowhere to be found on it. They ruined it -AND they stole it! 

I stood and began to march out of the playhouse, wishing it would burn to the ground behind me. 

And that was when I saw them. 

Instinctively, I recognized them. Characters in my mind brought to life… I’m sorry, I wanted to tell them. I’m sorry for this injustice. This isn’t how I wanted your story told. It’s not how it should be told...  

That would have been insane though, so instead I watched for a moment as Katara turned her gaze to the ocean before her, sighing, seeming frustrated.

Zuko leaned against the railing beside her. “Want to talk about it?” he asked.

“Not really,” Katara replied. 

His arm brushed hers and they both turned to each other. It felt suddenly as though they were in a world entirely different from my own...

I did not return to watch the rest of the play that night. It was clear it was not mine anymore anyways, but a few weeks later I attended the coronation ceremony of the new Fire Lord Zuko. 

I saw Katara standing beside him, proud, excited, happy. There was something different between them, stronger than even before. I had no idea who I could interview to back that idea up, but I didn’t need more evidence anyways. 

I just knew.

Zuko and Katara were meant to be, always had been, and always would be. 

[ellepooff]

toji x chubby!reader

warnings: nsfw, smut, daddy kink, spanking, praise/worship, tit sucking, pussy eating, thigh fucking, squirting, breeding

my masterlist

a/n: lol i haven’t posted in a hot minute but these are just a few thoughts i had :) also, it’s very much unedited, so beware?

- toji loved to use your thighs to get off. it made him dizzy seeing his big, hard dick in between your legs. it felt so good to slide his thick cock between them, the slick from your puffy pussy making it so easy. he loved how plush they were, how soft they felt against his fingers. he loved when you walked around the house so innocently wearing only your panties and a big shirt unaware of what you were doing to him. he loved when you would go out wearing the skin-tight dress he picked out, your curves on display showing everyone what was for him.

- toji loved to eat your pussy. the wet spot your sopping pussy left on your panties? it made his head spin to know he was the one making you so wet. he couldn’t stop himself from using his tongue to poke at it, getting to taste you. he always made sure to pepper kisses across your tummy, then down to your thighs, ensuring you that he loved every little thing about you. he found so much pleasure in burying his nose in your cunt, your sweet scent enveloping his senses, making him need you even more. his tongue would swipe across your folds so expertly, knowing exactly where to get to make your cry out for him. when you try to get away from him blabbering, “daddy, ‘m gonna cum!” he would only grip your hips, and let his fingers settle into your doughy skin to keep his face on your pussy. every time he would make you cum just like that, loving how you would be too consumed to care and end up rubbing your cunt all over his face. every time he would reluctantly pull away, leaving light kisses to your pussy telling you, “so fuckin’ good for me,” or “such a sweet little pussy for daddy.” he said it all knowing it would get you wet all over again, knowing how much you craved to be daddy’s good little whore.

- toji loved your tits. god, the way they bounced with every movement you made was too much for him to handle. he simply can’t help himself when he had you on top of him sitting so pretty and perfect, to latch his mouth onto your nipple. sucking, biting, pulling until you whine for him to stop because your poor, cute cunt is soaking your panties. but he never listened. he would keep going-- eyes closed and mind flooded with thoughts of you-- until he was satisfied. until tears would roll down your chubby cheeks, and your plump lips would move to beg him to touch you, claiming that you “needed him.”

- of course, he took the most pleasure in shoving his fat cock into your puffy pussy. his big hands holding your ankles in the air making your tummy fold as he pounded into you. your sweet moans and whimpers for him to slow down, go faster, or go deeper made him smirk and shush you, “’s okay, sweet thing, daddy’ll take good care of you.” your poor mind was so clouded and overwhelmed by toji. toji and his big beefy arms that caged you in and made you feel so secure. toji and his big fat cock that stuffed you so full.

when he knew you were close, he would slow down and play with your swollen clit, making you squirt all over his abdomen. even with tears flowing down your cheeks, he wouldn’t stop. he needed to see you do it again for him. and you did. over and over your pussy would gush around his cock and he indulged in it. finally, after he was content, he pushed his cum deep inside you, filling you to the brim.

[dioko]

AN OTHERWORLDLY LIFE.

pirate! midoriya x gn! reader

Word Count -> ~2230

Genre -> oneshot, fantasy, fluff

Content -> mild violence, swearing, flirty! deku, fantasy au, pirates lol, they/them pronouns | lemme know if i missed anything!

Summary -> pirates get whatever they want, and Deku wanted you.

a/n -> ive been brainrotting over pirate! deku for the past two weeks and i finally came up with something :)) this oneshot is inspired by @/midnightmoonkiss' pirate deku content, s’gold jfc. anyways its unedited, so beware of typos... enjoy! oh, also, any parts that come up after this fic will take the form of light drabbles and headcanons :) 

“Give y/n back to us now.”

“Okay,” a broad-shouldered greenette sneered, “then give me your money. All of it.”

You watched your uncle’s face morph into several expressions. No way was he going to agree to Deku’s outrageous deal. The pirate squatted so he was eye-leveled with you, greedily taking in all of your features while you were still bound to a wooden pole. With the tip of his dagger, he tilted your face up so the two of you were mere inches apart. 

“Fuck you!” The old merchant yelled. 

The pirate shook his head and laughed, “Woulda thunk an aristocrat of all people had a cleaner tongue. Watch your language around my pretty little seabird.”

You watched your aunt convulse in horror at his words.

“C’mon, mister,” Deku rolled his eyes like he was getting bored (he was). “Y’got three seconds before this sweetie’s blood is all over my deck.”

“You little-”

“Three.”

Your uncle was blowing steam from his ears.

“Two - whoops my knife slipped!” He ran the silver across your neck, and a deep, ugly red immediately stained your clothes. It was over before you could process it. 

>>

“I can’t believe I just did that,” liquid dribbled down your collar bone as you scrambled to clean it before any more touched your shirt. “They think I’m dead,” you scoffed.

“Yeah-”

“Deku, they think I’m dead!” Finally, you could do something other than remain trapped on that boring, miserable island. It was long since that place had been your home. 

“I know,” he laughed, “and… you okay? I didn’t actually hurt you, did I?”

“No, but how am I supposed to wear this?” You gestured to the cherry-juice-stained fabric. 

“You don’t,” the man grinned.

“Gross!” you hissed, “your subordinates are right there - you’re really gonna make these jokes now, loverboy?”

“Mhm,” he brushed a drop of red off your jaw, “loverboy or not, they’re terrified of me anyways.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” He smiled coyly, “plus, I get to do whatever I want with you now,” his gaze dropped to your lips and he licked his own, “can’t believe I ‘murdered’ royal offspring.”

“Ex-royal. Actually, m’not even royal-”

“Captain.”

“What do you want?” Deku stiffened. 

“Tenya and Shouto - they want to know where we’re going next.”

“Oh. I’ll be right there, wait up,” the pirate turned to you, “make yourself at home - or do anything, really. My cabin’s the one furthest back, down the hall over there. It’s… the soundproofed one,” he winked at you.

“Go yell at your crewmates,” You grumbled, turning around so he wouldn’t notice how agitated you suddenly looked.

“Whatever you say, boss,” he pecked your nape and pointed at your stained shirt, “when we stop again tomorrow night, I’ll steal- no, I’ll buy you as many tops as you want.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but he cut you off.

“Of course, m’not sure why you’d want more tops when you have me.”

Perverted bastard, you thought, marching down the deck. But, being with an infamous criminal was better than meaninglessly hanging out in a dark room for the rest of your life. At least here, you’d get to do something. 

Deku was right, his sleeping quarters were big, so much so that there was still a couple of meters distance from his bed to his desk. Where there were corners, there were intricately carved designs of figures you didn’t quite recognize, but beautiful nonetheless. A large, cowhide rug lay underneath the bed that sat against a wall filled with weapons, most of which, you assumed, were merely for decoration. 

Then, you turned to the desk. 

The messiest part was, without a doubt, the map on his wall, littered in pins and ink marks, filled with what was presumably all the places he’d visited and more that he was going to visit. If you hadn’t slowed your steps or tried to avoid the sharp, evening sun, you would have never noticed the dirty notebook that lay half-covered by random trinkets on his desk. 

Huh, you pursed your lips, I shouldn’t touch that, which is why you picked the book up and began to flip through it. 

04/02/xx. 

I got stuck in ice on the back of a tiny island. Winter will always be the bane of my existence. They look wealthy, though. If i get caught now, im not getting out of this alive. 

06/02/xx

Theres someone in that obnoxiously rich house. Pretty little birdie never seems to leave that spot. 

10/03/xx

i caught their attention! I don’t understand why im excited, though. Maybe im confusing this excitement with the fact that the ice is finally thawing. I can finally get out of here.

12/03/xx

y/n said i had nice hands today. I’ve always hated them, grimy and blemished, but i dont think i do, anymore. i’ll try to sketch something today. 

02/04/xx

I can finally leave here, but theres someone ive got to take with me. Ive gotten to know y/n really well over the months ive been stuck here, and i think they’ll want to come with me! Theyre smart and hardheaded and absolutely beautiful; they’ll do well aboard Yuuei. 

06/04/xx 

The plans for tonight are making me nervous. I cant let anyone know that, though, y/ns freedoms on me. I think. Anyways, ive gotten confident enough with my drawings to try this:

And then the page was blank. To try and draw what? You looked around the room, trying to find some evidence of his art. 

“Enjoying yourself?”

“Deku!” He’d caught you in the middle of snooping around his room. 

“Good evening, little seabird,” he bowed obnoxiously; you couldn’t help but notice the pink that tinted his ears, though. “Did y’like my book?”

“Sorry,” you put it back down on his desk.

“How much did you see?”

“... enough.”

“Well,” he shrugged, “it is what it is. Let’s go outside,” he took your hand. 

“You’re not gonna, like, punish me?”

Deku quirked an eyebrow at you, lips twitching into a half-smile, “Do you want me to?”

“Sheesh, never mind,” you backed away, “should’ve known you’d say something like that.”

“Hey, you asked and I answered.”

“I asked and you asked back, actually.”

“Same difference. Oh!” He stopped halfway on the main deck, “there’s something I wanna give you - a welcome gift, y’know?”

“Deku, you’ve handed me a bunch of stuff since the day you snuck onto my porch,” you chuckled, “I’m not gonna disappear if you stop giving me things.”

“One last gift?”

“Deku.”

“I didn’t maim a man for it, I swear!”

“Fine,” you agreed reluctantly. 

“You ready?” His voice was high pitched - it was rare to see a pirate so excited. 

“... yes?”

“Okay, gimme your hands, and open your eyes when I tell you to.” Palms up, you reached out to him; something sandy and thin tickled you. “Okay, open ‘em.”

It was a torn sheet of paper - the missing page from his notebook. Familiar ink marks were littered around its rough edges, and a drawing of a person sat in the center.

A drawing of you. 

You gaped at it for a moment, trying to digest every feature he’d sculpted into the paper. 

“Thank you,” you breathed. 

“Y’like it?”

“I love it.”

“I’m glad.”

“S’this really how you see me? I look… great.”

“You always do. You always look beautiful.”

“I do not,” you laughed. 

“You do to me.”

Deku didn’t laugh with you, this time. To be frank, there didn’t seem to be any glint of mischief in his lively eyes, for once. All he did was watch you, admiring how you looked in the evening light. The freckled pirate opened his mouth like there was more he wanted to say. 

“What is it?” You encouraged. 

Like he snapped out of a trance, the greenette’s back straightened again, and his chest puffed out the way it did when he tried to hide his fear, “never mind. It was nothing.”

It was a lie, was what it was, but you didn’t point that out to him. 

“Okay,” you twiddled your thumbs. “I’m tired,” it was probably best to change the topic.

“Oh, right. I did kill you today,” Deku smiled softly, “go back to my cabin. I’ve got the softest bed - fit for a former sovereign.”

“Whatever,” you batted his shoulder. 

“Plus,” he licked his lips, “the creaking can be passed off as turbulence-”

“Deku!”

>>

The day went by quicker than you’d thought it would. Tsuyu was a crewmate who’d been kind enough to help you navigate each part of the ship, and if it wasn’t for her, you’d have fallen behind the rest of the crew. 

The ship slowed as evening arrived again, and in the distance of shallow fog, you could see dim lights slowly growing bigger. 

“How much is a shirt, nowadays?” Deku murmured to himself, “will a bag be enough?”

“A bag could buy me an entire wardrobe,” you leaned against his door frame. 

“Then a bag of coins it is,” he grinned.

You pursed your lips. “You shouldn’t spend money so recklessly, I have a feeling it doesn’t exactly come consistently to you and your friends.”

“I’m offended,” he scoffed, “but it’s not reckless when it’s you.”

Not even you could deny the flush of heat that pooled onto your cheeks and ears. 

“C’mon, birdie, it’ll be fine. Plus, buying you whatever you want’ll help me stay a little soberer.”

“Let’s go, we get to hide on abandoned docks, which means there’s a long way to walk before we reach the towns. Perks of a small ship, I guess.”

You walked with him up a crooked path, and by the time it was dark, you’d gotten close enough that you could hear the lively music and laughter. 

It was beautiful. 

Stands were set up wherever there was a blank wall, and people were everywhere - it wasn’t like the half-dead island where you’d come from. 

“How d’ya like your shirts?” Deku lead you down the street.

“De-”

“I’m Izuku here, got it?” He smiled slyly, “wouldn’t want ‘em to know they’re mingling with one of Poseidon’s bastard sons.”

“Izuku,” you recalled when he'd first told you his birth name, months ago, “that’s a nice name.”

“Thank you, birdie, I got it for my birthday.”

“I-”

“Now back to the main focus: you! Whaddya want?” He jingled the bag of coins in the air, grinning at anyone that noticed his abundance of cash.

“A shirt. One shirt,” you specified. 

“Right!” He turned to the woman at the stand, “I’ll buy everything you’ve got.”

“D- Izuku, what the f-”

“Shh, language, if I don’t spend it here, I’ll be hiccuping back to our cabin,” he shrugged, as he swiped a jug of beer from the neighboring stand. 

“You - you just stole!” You whisper-yelled at the man, who had a drink in one arm and a chain of clothing in the other. 

“Pretty bird, with all due respect, I’m a pirate.” Izuku licked the drink off his lips, “your sheltered-since-birth naivety is really beginning to show.”

“Well, that’s mean of you to say.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he chuckled, “I guess it’s my job to corrupt that, huh?”

You grimaced. “Why did you buy all of that?”

“So you could wear pretty clothing.”

“No, you misunderstand. I mean, why did you buy all of that?”

“You’re right,” Izuku pondered, “with my devilish looks and charm, that pretty lady wouldn’t have noticed if I stole that expensive necklace right off her.”

“You did not.”

“Ta-da,” he pulled out the blue jewel with a toothy grin, “bet it’ll look great with this blouse here.”

“What - Izuku, you’re going to rob this place dry!”

“That’s the goal, baby.”

You froze at the new name. Deku had never called you that before. Why now?

“What?” He half-laughed, “Is that - is it too much?”

“Thief!” Someone, the woman from before, pointed at your pirate, and the two of you - an aristocrat and a lowlife - exchanged a knowing glance. 

RUN.

You bolted down the yellow-lit streets with him, feeling like you’d never run out of breath. Never in your life had you been allowed to run this quickly - this freely.

“Here, here, here!” He ushered you into a little crack between two buildings, and then squeezed himself in with you. You watched in awe as the police sprinted right past your hiding place. 

“They’re gone,” you mumbled. 

“Not yet,” he replied. That was when you finally noticed how closely the two of you had pressed up against one another - when you finally felt the adrenaline leave your brain, and the sanity come back. 

“‘Zuku,” you gasped for air. 

“I love you,” he blurted. 

“What?”

“I. Love. You.” 

It was safe to say your entire world had come to a screeching halt. A pirate, one who had ravaged land, and stolen money and broken hearts loved you.

“Me too,” you finally sighed at him, “I love you, too.” 

“Thank god,” he sounded genuinely relieved. 

Your stomach did backflips when you finally mustered up the courage to look at him. He was watching you - hungrily, selfishly eating up the way you looked with wild, loving eyes. Part of his bangs covered the freckles that dappled his face, and his chest heaved up and down with every desperate gasp for air. Suddenly, you felt warm, like you’d fought and planned and earned something you’d longed for since you were young. 

It was an otherworldly life, unpredictable, dangerous, and irrevocably yours.