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#feeling so grateful on this fine morning
tkachukitup · 6 months
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just doing hot girl shit
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rainbluealoekitten · 7 months
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ok mb for worrying everyone but i actually had a BEAUTIFUL afternoon and am feeling pretty happy rn :D rambling about it in the tags ofc <3
#had mac and cheese for lunch so very yum#then slight boy update where he fucking BLUSHED at me today and i've been working very hard to get over him#but was like!!! wtf!!!! what do i do with this!!! and texted one of my best friends#and she told me to fucking ASK HIM why he's been acting shitty as of late#so we formulated a text then he was very very apologetic and explained how he's been feeling as of late#and we chatted for a while which was super nice :))) idk if it's going to last but now we just WAIT and OBSERVE#to see if it's worth it#and then i did a toooooon of work out in my garden really just vibing#like way more research than was needed (did not work smarter over harder) but atm idm bc#it made me feel like i was doing well and honestly i was really just vibing#also put my bird and fish to decompose. still don't know what is up with that lmao#so got to put my hands in the dirt!!!!! fucking love that#now gonna watch outlander i think#or i should check the bio video's transcript quickly before maybe#either way will be fine :)))#i'm glad#and i'm also super proud of myself bc i've made sooo much progress mentally#like yeah everything felt like shit this morning and i was indulging myself there but i have also been owrking so so hard#with walking around angrily repeating that i am grateful to be alive#and pointing out all the shit in the world that i love#and really speaking to myself with love in my heart the way i needed to be spoken to as a child#so yeah :) even if i start to feel shitty again#nobody can take away the moments of happiness from me#there will always be more rays of sun#or more rainstorms bc i prefer those a million times more and guess what!!! rainy season rn :)#peace and love on the planet earth#blue screams into the void
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littlecornerinbrooklyn · 11 months
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I ended up waking up early to finish some work and now I’m in “I deserve a treat” mode and I want to order bagels but I’m also vaguely like ~eeked by the delivery guys behavior (it's been the same guy the past few times and he hasn't done anything but he's given me an increasingly weird/flirty vibe and I don't like men who think I'm ~pretty knowing where I live) and like...it's so frustrating man. I think there's a lot of dudes out there who don't get why being in semi-constant threat of safety is so deeply annoying (and that's like, the best of the worst feelings) because we're constantly forced to reckon with our behavior and if we're "being safe" and like...yeah it's unlikely anything is Going To Happen with the dude who drops off my breakfast but if it did then it would also be my fault and every decision shouldn't have this weight to it i hate it i hate it i hate it
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peachesofteal · 6 months
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Light on - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader
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Simon wakes up before you.
At first, he forgets. He blanks on the fact that you’re in his bed, curled up against his side, lips slightly parted and pressed against his bicep, a leg haphazardly thrown over his thigh.
When he realizes, he freezes. Turns his head just so, enough that he can see you, stare at where your lashes lay against your cheek, the exposed part of your shoulder, peeking out from your too big t shirt with a stretched out neck. The sun has just barely come up, peeking through the curtains, shining across the bed and the slope of your body, curves and lines all mapped out across his own sheets and blankets, his own pillow the one supporting your head.
He should feel bad. He knows. And he does, a bit. Feels awful that most of your stuff is ruined and the building manager is slow moving, taking his time getting a recovery team into your flat.
But he also feels grateful. Lucky. Stupefied. Here you are… in his bed.
You twitch, eyes moving in your sleep, and then your face burrows farther between him and the pillow, nose pressing against his skin, your hand curling up between his ribs and your chest, still blissfully drifting, soft puffs of air tickling across his arm.
On instinct, pulled along by some magnetic force, his fingers glance across your forehead, to your temple. You still don’t stir, and he strokes the pad of his thumb along the apple of your cheek, soft skin beneath him a marvel on its own. His girl. In his bed.
The baby monitor sparks alive. It’s crackly and cranky, fresh morning tears calling to you from the other room, and you wake instantly, blinking your eyes open, orienting yourself. You look exhausted, long night of trying to sort through your belongings catching up quick, and he can’t stand the idea of you dead on your feet.
“Morning.” You’re a little shy, hesitant, and it melts him, makes him want to pull you in tight, keep you in his arms forever.
“Morning.” You try to shake the stupor of sleep free, half moving to your elbows before he cups your shoulder. “I’ll get ‘er.” He murmurs.
“I can, it’s fine. She’ll need a clean nappy.” You tell him, half asleep again, and he leans down, brushing his lips onto your forehead.
“I know. Rest, sweetheart. I’ll bring her in.”
Emmaline is displeased for the first ten minutes she’s awake. Simon changes her, and manages to get her into a new onesie, remembering how you always get her fresh clothes first thing in the morning. He’s cautious, moving her legs and arms into sleeves and maneuvering her as carefully as he can, his touch gentle, supportive as he sits her up. She settles once he’s finished, babbling as he carries her back to bed.
“You’re talkative this mornin, huh sweet pea?” She reaches for him, little fingers stretching out across what he imagines must feel like a great distance, trying to pull at the mussed strands of his hair. “Alright, alright.” She wriggles, small smile on her face, revealing a barely there white ridge in her bottom gum, a tooth poking through. “Let’s say hi to mum. Want to see mama? And then we’ll get some breakfast. How’s that sound?”
“There she is.” You hum, reaching for her when he crosses the threshold of his bedroom. She goes without fuss, cuddling into your arms, and Simon’s breath hitches, heart stumbling in his chest at the two of you. “What is it?” You whisper, frowning, and as he shakes his head, you hold your hand out to him, beckoning him close, urging him back into the bed. “C’mere then?” He’s so weak for you, easily swayed by just the bat of your eyelashes, so sweet and pretty, his shining glimpse of sun in such a bleak life. He folds, sliding back in beside you, an arm above your head, his finger now in the grip of Emma’s hands, the digit being dragged to her teething mouth. You smile, at her, and then up to him, kissing her cheek with a loud smacking sound, the affection making her squeal with a delighted giggle. If he was standing, he thinks his knees would be weak. He thinks he might be on the floor at the sight, the reality, of what this is, what this is growing into, and he clears his throat, trying to chase away the emotion that knots in the back of his throat as he keeps his eyes locked on the two of you.
His girls. In his bed.
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kingtomura · 2 months
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Cat and mouse
synopsis: Your ex boyfriend has some nerve texting you at three in the morning — an entire week after the disaster breakup you had. You should really go over there and give him a piece of your mind. Well, you know what they say about famous last words.  wc: 6.1k | crossposted to ao3 content: tomura shigaraki x female reader, no quirks au, toxic tomura, reader is kinda toxic too tbh, unhealthy relationships, breaking up and making up, vaginal fingering, overstim, breeding kink, piv, dubcon creampie, degredation, threats of baby trapping, hurt/comfort, sweet at the end idc
You’ve told your friends time and time again to stay out of your business. They never listen. 
“Oh my god, Kirishima? Is he even twenty yet?” You drag as you watch your friend flip through several pictures of the redheaded boy like he was a member of the bachelor. 
She smiles, scrolling her phone for more options, “no, but he will be in a couple of months!”
“No!” Your words are sharp. You love Mina but god, you don’t want her to play matchmaker with you. It’s not like you’re a charity case or something. 
She gasps and you swear you could see the lightbulb go off above her head. “What about Denki? He’s fun!” 
You groan, falling back onto the bed and covering your eyes with your arm. “Mina.” 
“Hey, just give her a break okay? It’s only been about a week.” Your saving grace Yaoyorozu speaks up and it’s nice to finally have someone on your side. 
“Thank you.”
“Seriously? So we’re just going to sit around and watch you mope about all day?” Mina questions, irritation clear in her voice and it grates your ears.  
“Preferably, yes! Just let me be.” You roll over, face officially shoved into your pillow. It’s been a rough couple of days and you haven’t gotten a single call or text from Tomura. Not that you should be expecting one. You broke up with him after all. 
It’s just.. this time feels different. Usually there’s more arguing and he’s fighting for you to stay around, but this time there was nothing. No quips, no insults, just “fine, get out then.”
That hurt the most. 
You had no idea what he was up to. 
Maybe he was as depressed as you were. 
Maybe he’s found someone else. 
The thought makes you stop in your tracks. The idea of Tomura, your tomura with someone else is enough to make you nauseous. 
You jump to your feet and rush to the bathroom, locking yourself in and falling to your knees. 
God, what if that was why it was so easy?
You pull out your phone, the device lighting up and unlocking with your facial id. 
Tomura doesn’t use social media much but you could still check to see if he’d blocked you. 
To your surprise, he hadn’t. 
He hasn't posted anything either and there’s no new person in his followers. 
You feel yourself exhale a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. No change is a good thing. 
There’s knocking on the door and you thank the stars you locked it. Your friends would judge you so hard if they saw you lurking through your ex’s social media. 
“Hey, are you okay in there?” It’s your saving grace Yaoyorozu again and you almost feel bad for shutting her out. 
“Yeah, I’m sorry if it feels like I pressured you! I’ll give you some space.” Mina's regretful voice calls and it makes your heart clench. You know she means well but she just doesn’t understand. None of them do. 
Whether you want to admit it or not, you love Tomura. 
Yes, you argue and yes, you fight, but he just gets you. He’s so cynical, but so caring — in his own special way. Too bad he was such an asshole. The argument wasn’t even supposed to go that far. 
There are tears beginning to blur your vision and you wipe them away, willing the feelings down and standing to your feet. 
If he wanted you to stay away, then fine. You could do that. 
You splash cool water onto your face and take a breath, steeling yourself and getting ready to face your friend once more. It was Saturday and they were convinced you needed a fun girl’s night.
It takes a lot to refrain from cringing at the phrase, but you believe they held some truth with the idea. You definitely didn’t want to be alone right now.
You unlock the bathroom door, meeting Mina and Yaoyorozu’s worried expressions with a smile. 
“We should probably get ready now, huh?”
Mina’s eyes light up, smile blinding and excitement contagious.
“Yes! Jirou and the others are here now.” She starts to clap, excitement buzzing around her, “Girl’s night is going to be amazing!” 
—-
Girl’s night was a bust.
The moment everyone arrived the apartment quickly filled with chaos. Noisy and busy, it was all giving you a headache. Until someone decided it would be a good idea to pregame before going out.
In preparation for the night your friend’s insisted that you get dolled up, hair makeup and skimpy clothes you wouldn’t look twice at on any normal day. 
You had to admit it made you a little more excited to get out and at least feel like your world isn't crashing around you. It was supposed to be a fun little night out. Somehow one drink turned into two, which turned into three which turned into Mina swearing she could beat everyone in a dance battle. 
The group only got more riled up as everyone indulged in this silly challenge. 
One challenge leads to another, which leads to more drinking, which then ends in everyone being too drunk to function and knocking out — all laid out in odd places around your living room floor and couch. 
The groggy feeling came first, your arms radiating in dull pain as you vaguely recalled trying to beat Mina in a contest of who could do the most push ups. It sure as hell wasn't you, but the drunk version of you thought it was possible to move mountains. 
You blink a few times, trying to will your eyes to rapidly adjust to the darkness of the room and find out what this odd buzzing noise beside you had been. Turning over, you find your phone, squinting as the too bright screen lights up your face and you see that it is three a.m.
You had fallen asleep with everyone else.
The phone buzzes again, lighting up and you have to squint further to read the contact name.
Tomura. 
Your eyes widen as you scan over the three texts he’s sent you. 
Wasting no time, you rush to your feet and into the bathroom so you can look at your phone without the chance of prying eyes overlooking your shoulder. Even though they were probably going to be out until late morning.
Tomura’s messages were short, no paragraphs, no essays but three different messages sent in succession. 
When are you coming to get your shit?
I’m tired of waiting.
And I’m deleting our farm btw. 
The first two messages don’t get much of a reaction from you, especially since it’s three a.m and he knows you’re usually asleep around this time. 
But the third message…
Your Stardew Valley farm that you’ve had and worked on together for almost two years being put on the line and threatened? What the fuck was his problem?
This farm was a constant in your relationship. Throughout the ups and downs and back and forths. You were sure that hell would freeze over before you both would give up that progress. But here he is, threatening you while you would have been asleep. What an asshole.
Your feet are moving before your brain can stop them and you make your way to the front door. Since your friends were all passed out it would be easy to sneak over to Shigaraki’s place, give him a piece of your mind and then sneak back. In and out, quick and easy. 
Your decision is made and you grab your coat, deciding to just go over there as you are. You hadn’t changed out of your outfit that was supposed to be for the night out, but it didn’t matter. You only needed to get over there and get there fast.
Once you arrive at Tomura’s doorstep you waste no time knocking. It’s around three in the morning so he should still very much be awake. 
There's a chill in the air as you wait for his answer and you wrap your jacket closer to your body. A rumble of thunder caught your attention and it's then you notice the rain clouds rolling in. You knew it would only be a matter of time before the bottom of the sky falls out and rain drenches everything. You were on borrowed time if you wanted to make it back before then.
After what feels like forever the door finally opens, revealing a very cozy pajama-clad Tomura, who seemed a little too pleased for his own good — if that sly smile he was doing a bad job at hiding was anything to go by. 
You don't give him a chance to greet you or say anything for that matter, stopping his words in their tracks as you cut him off. “What do you want?”
He doesn’t bother hiding his smirk now, the expression making your fists clench and your anger boil. “What do I want? You’re at my door, in front of my apartment.” He scoffs, clearly getting the exact reaction he had wanted from you, “I should be asking what do you want?” 
Caught like a deer in headlights. Whatever, you don't let that stop you as you pull out your phone to show him his text. “You sent this, I know you’re bluffing. What do you want?”
Tomura shrugs, leaning against his door frame and giving you a pleased look. Expression relaxed and content. Not a care in the world. “To talk.”
“Well, I'm here now, so let’s talk.” You spit, crossing your arms and waiting for whatever else he would throw at you. 
“Sure, but you should come in first.” He starts, looking up towards the darkened sky, confirming his assessment. “It’s gonna rain soon, you know.”
Of course you knew that. 
You just didn’t want to give him more time than you had. But you agree and go in, ignoring the fighting feeling in the back of your mind screaming at you to turn away and hightail it out of there. 
Tomura’s home is the exact way it was the day you left, give or take a few more containers of takeout littered around the place. You have half a mind to scold him about it, but quickly remember that it isn’t your place to do that anymore. 
So instead you stay quiet, following him into the apartment and into the living room. Opting to stand as he sat, and resisted the urge to get comfortable. 
“So, what do you want to talk about?” You try, done watching him pick up a controller and boot up a video game. Seriously? 
Your patience was wearing thin now as you watched him ignore you to play some stupid game. You try calling to him again, knowing this was probably a waste of your time and groans.
“I was in the middle of something before you got here. Let me finish and we’ll talk.” It's flippant the way he waves you off and continues the game. The lack of care only hurting your feelings further and making you realize this may have all been a big mistake on your part.
You shouldn’t be at your ex boyfriend’s house being ignored. You should be at your house getting drunk and hanging out with your best friends. There was no reason to stay somewhere you’re obviously not valued.
It’s a simple choice when you put it into perspective. 
But things are always easier said than done. 
You sigh, the air puffing out your cheeks, a bad habit you had when angry, and walk right in front of Tomura’s TV. There was more satisfaction in making him lose the game and then announcing your departure than just leaving quietly. 
He cranes his neck to see around you, but it doesn’t work, finally giving up as his character inevitably dies. “What!?”
“I’m leaving!” You announced, turning on your heel and heading towards the front door.
“You had to make me lose first? I said I was almost done!” He spat back, rising from the couch to follow you.
You shrug, “I don’t care. Why invite me in if you’re just going to ignore me?”
“Didn’t think you had the patience of a child.'' Tomura stands in front of you, cutting through your path and stopping you in your tracks.
It's almost comical the way he insults you. “Okay pot, meet kettle.” You try to brush past him, but he side steps with you. 
“What are you dressed like that for anyway? Did you go out tonight or something?”
“No!” You deny, a little louder than intended and then pause. “But it’s none of your business what I do anyway.”
Tomura hums at this, taking the words in and running them through his mind as he gives you a once over, eyes scanning from the too-tight shirt you wore — showing a generous amount of cleavage, down to your mini skirt that left little to the imagination. 
“Could've fooled me.”
“What do you mean by that?” You hate when he gives you cryptic answers, like it’s impossible to pry into his mind to see what he was thinking at the moment. 
“You knew you were coming to see me so I dont get why you're wearing that skimpy shit. Unless you wanted me to check you out.”
“Not everything is about you, Tomura. Maybe I just wanted to dress up and look nice.”
“Bullshit—”
“God, Tomura you always fucking do this!” You yell, walking right up into his face. The excitement in his scarlet eyes sends a chill up your spin, but you can’t back down. 
He gets closer, matching your tone and you can still see the grin he’s trying to hide. It makes you see red. “Do what? Tell you the truth? You know I’m not wrong.”
“Yeah, you think you know everything, but you don’t. I’m dressed up because I want to be, not because of you.” You’re insisting at this point, frustration threatening to tip over and spill out into the form of another pointless argument. Why did you think you could actually come over and have a decent conversation with him?
Tomura is a master at getting under your skin and hitting where it hurts. In all of your arguments he’s never really pulled out the big shots but you wouldn’t put it past him to do so now. 
“Oh, so you come over to my place dressed like a slut and you expect me to believe you don’t have some hidden motive?”
And there it is.
Your last straw. He could be so egotistical and mean — you’ve had it. 
You regret it the moment you do it, but your body moves before your brain can process your actions. You push Tomura. Hard. 
He doesn’t fall back far but you know it’s enough to piss him off. And he’s never been one to hold anything back, so he shoves you back and your back hits the wall. 
Tomura has you pinned before you know it and there’s a thrill that runs through your body in a way you know you shouldn’t be feeling. Your knees feel weak for reasons that are not related to fear and your panties were gradually becoming more wet. 
His voice is low and his eyes are narrowed as he pins you against the wall, pressing your cheeks together with his other hand. “You’re really starting to piss me off.”
You have to bite back a smile, knowing this has taken a turn and you aren’t strong enough to stop where it’s going. Not that you would want to. 
“Oh yeah? If I piss you off so badly then why are you hard?”
He doesn’t look down. He can feel his own arousal just as well as you can while it’s pressed against your abdomen. 
Tomura pushes off of you — maintaining some distance as he turns away. 
“You’re fucking annoying.”
“Sure am.” You supply, chipper and certain as you trail behind him. 
He’s walking further into the apartment, and you follow. Legs moving on their own accord as you go further into the lion's den, exchanging quips and insults. You jab your finger into his shoulder, bothered by the way he continues to ignore you, it's a pathetic attempt at catching his attention and it works. Kind of. 
The only response being him slapping your hand away with a glare and muttering a soft fuck off as he walked on. 
You both went back and forth. Like the sun and moon, you just can’t stay away from each other.  
It was how these things usually went between you and Tomura. He would start up, make a petty argument and you would never back down. Tomura is someone who was used to getting his way and others simply did what he said with no objections. 
But that was not how you were.
And he loved it.
You knew by the way he would get that devious glimmer in his eye when you would challenge a point, starting up a debate. Sometimes they were heated enough to make you both break up. It never lasted more than a few days. A week being the longest.
Push and pull. 
Tomura made his way past you again, ignoring your calls about how you hate being ignored. At this point you’re sure he’s doing it on purpose to rile you up more but you can’t help but take the bait. You grab his shoulder, forcing him to turn around and face you as you point a finger in his face. 
“Stop walking away from me!” 
He grabs your wrist and pulls you closer, making you stumble on your feet and almost lose balance. You were so close you could feel the heat from his body and smell the fresh linen scent of his shirt. “Don’t tell me what to do.” 
You snatch your wrist away from him, tension between you two growing hotter by the second as the space between you got thinner. 
“What are you going to do about it?” 
The narrowing of his eyes only made your grin grow wider as you watched the gears turn in his head as he thought about just how many things he would do about it. All of it enticed you, so you beat him to the punch. 
You reach forward again, fully intending to shove his shoulder again for another reaction, another glare, maybe even more words, but he stops you. It was fast, the way you both tumbled through the hallway as Tomura crashed his lips to yours. The relief of finally feeling his lips again meshed with the excitement of how rough he was with you. 
You lose yourself in the kiss, welcoming him in with open arms as you vaguely register the dark walls of his room and posters plastered along the walls in your scuffle.
It was exciting, probably the best part of breaking up and making up. At this point you think the whole point of falling apart is coming back together again. An endless cycle where the reward is worth the punishment. 
Cat and mouse. 
You end up on top of him, straddling his hips while your smug smile beams down at him. Tomura gives you an unamused look in return, yet the way his hands rested on your thighs gave away the ill hidden interest. It was all the encouragement you needed as you leaned down, hovering above him with both hands on his chest. 
“Not so tough now, are you?”
It’s bait. You know it’s bait, he knows it’s bait, but he takes it anyway — the way you knew he would. 
Tomura wastes no time flipping the both of you over, quickly reversing your positions as he settled himself between your legs. It’s dangerous the way his actions riled you up further, and you have to bite your lip to keep the smile from betraying your false anger. You couldn’t let him know how excited you were to be back in his bed. 
He presses your cheeks together and rocks your head left to right, tone mocking and eyes wild with fever, “Oh, look who’s become a firecracker all of the sudden. Where did that flame come from, huh?”
You want to respond, but Tomura beats you to it, releasing your cheeks and pointing a nimble finger against your forehead, “Don’t be dumb.”
His eyes trail from yours and then down to your lips, then finally down to your exposed cleavage. The movement was swift as he cupped one of your breasts in his hand and dipped down, claiming your lips again. It was softer than the first time but not by much, especially not when he matched his pace by grinding his clothed erection into you, making you moan at the contact. 
Your skirt was so short and it made you feel even more exposed than you already were. Tomura had easy access to you and the thin fabric of your panties made everything feel so much closer. 
You moan at the contact, swiping your tongue against Tomura’s bottom lip and wasting no time deepening the kiss as you pull him closer. You needed more and you needed it as soon as possible. 
Tomura pulled the low cut front of your shirt down, easily exposing your breasts from the confines of the shirt and massaged them, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles against your nipples and making you cry out from the sensitivity. 
He pulls away from you, eyes gazing into yours and you swore in that moment he put you in a trance. Tomura’s ruby red gaze always left you mesmerized and you can’t help the whimper that leaves your lips, brows furrowed and eyes wanting, “Please.”
“Please what?” And he’s not taunting you, he’s not mocking you. His eyes are soft as he brings a hand to your cheek. “Tell me what you want.”
“You.” Fuck, you’ve missed him. “I just want you.”
There’s a hint of a smile on his face as he strokes your cheek, soft look in his eyes making your heart flutter, and then it’s gone. Replaced by a hardened gaze as he moves to remove your shirt and bra, fully exposing you to his hungry eyes, and then moves to remove your short skirt. 
His hands hover there for a moment, debating whether or not he should keep it on and fuck you in it, but then decides against the idea and pulls it off, taking your soaked panties down with it as well. 
The air in the room feels cool against your skin as you shiver in anticipation. 
“Fuck,” Tomura whispers, now eye level with your cunt. You gasp as he runs two fingers between your wet folds and holds the digits up to show you. Syrupy clear slick clung to them, slowly trailing down as Tomura rose back up, eye level with you once more. 
“You’re so wet…” He murmured, bringing the digits to your mouth and you opened, taking them into your mouth and tasting yourself. You kept eye contact as you watched his eyes widen in delight — Tomura loved it when you put on a show for him.
There’s another moment of Tomura pressing against your tongue with his fingers and then he pulls them out, opting for a kiss in exchange, his tongue dipping into your mouth and groaning  as he could taste what’s left of your slick on you as well.
The pleasant feeling and linguid action of your movements made your shoulders relax as you practically melted into his soft bed, the feeling of his body above yours bringing you mountains of comfort. It was a distraction, of course. 
You felt the same two of Tomura’s fingers prod at your slick entrance before pressing in fully and all the way down to the knuckle. The stretch was intense but the pressure was euphoric, making you squeeze your eyes shut and grip him closer. 
He didn’t make you wait long as he pumped his fingers, quickly finding that sensitive spot so deep inside of you that only he could pinpoint and brushing against it over and over. 
The feeling was so good it made you pull away from the kiss to breathe, thighs twitching and toes curling in pleasure. You wouldn’t last long like this.
“Tomura, fuck..!” You moaned, drowning in ecstasy as he continued his abuse of your spot, never letting up or slowing down, aiming to make you cum as quickly as he could. It was obvious he wanted you to come undone as soon as possible by the way he watched your every expression. 
The way your brows furrowed to the way you bit your lip. Tomura eagerly drank every expression and gave it back to you in the form of pleasure. 
“What?” He started, unphased by your dilemma, “Gonna cum?”
It took a lot of focus and effort, but you nod — done with fighting for the night and accepting the fact that you will come apart quickly. So you give in to the pleasure. 
Tomura smiles, a devious grin splitting his features as he curls his fingers, hitting the spot one more time for good measure and you lose composure, your climax crashing into you like a tidal wave. There was nothing you could do besides ride the feeling while holding on to Tomura tight — like you would get swept away if you didn’t. 
He fucks you through it with his fingers, eyes never leaving your face as you come down from your high. 
“Pent up, huh?” He questions, and this time there is that little hint of teasing. It brings you back to reality. 
Yes, you have been pent up. You haven’t been able to get off to anything since you’ve broken up and it’s been hell. 
You have no time for the games, you just want him and you want him now. 
So, you take Tomura’s face in your hands, making him look you in the eyes. The flecks of black in his carmine eyes always makes you remember why you come back. Every single time. 
“Fuck me, please, Tomura.” It's soft and filled with desire that you cannot be bothered to hide, and Tomura has never been one to deny you.
He quickly discards his own clothes, making sure to not stay away from you for long. His cock is hard and leaking precum from the head as he strokes it in preparation. You feel giddy at the thought and watch as he slides the head of his cock between your folds, coating it with your slick, and rubbing against your clit. The action makes your hips twitch up towards him. 
He loves to tease and make you wait, but today he doesn’t make you wait long. Tomura leans down after lining himself up with your entrance and places his free hand behind your head, right above the nape of your neck. His hands were warm and the feeling of those hands cradling your head felt so comforting in the space of his familiar dark bedroom. 
You bring a hand to his hair, tangling your fingers in his ashen locks as he pushes forward. The stretch makes you whimper and Tomura captures your lips in a kiss again, swallowing the noises and releasing a groan of his own as your walls tighten around his cock. 
There's something about the way Tomura drags his hips, the way he starts off at a slow pace, winding you up as he steadily increases his speed and force. It happens so gradually that you don't realize you’re screaming his name until he tells you to shut up — threatening to cover your mouth because he didn't want his neighbors to hear how much of a slut you were.
It drove you mad the way he said it all with a smile and fucked you harder. Almost daring you to be louder so he can punish you with a hand over your mouth.
Tomura knew how rough you liked it and he always delivered, giving you back arching pleasure as he pounded into you. It leaves you gasping and struggling to keep your voice down. Your hands find the surface of his back, trying to hold on as much as you could with building pleasure on the horizon. 
“Tomu— Tomura..! Please,” you cry and he doesn’t miss a beat, driving his cock so deep against your sweet spot it makes you see stars. “Fuck..!” 
“Yeah, that’s it.” Tomura cooed, eyes filled with mischief as he brought you closer to the edge. “Cry for me.”
And you do, your body feeling euphoric as the feeling buzzed up your spine and filled your brain with the fuzz of ecstasy. 
“What are you gonna do, huh?” He starts, his hips grinding against you, the closeness of his pelvis rubs against your clit, making you cry out again, “What are you gonna do when I breed this pretty cunt and make sure you’re stuck with me forever?”
He’s bluffing, you know Tomura doesn’t want kids. He’s just trying to gauge your reaction. Your dedication. 
“Tomura…” You only moan, breath catching as he hits that spot inside you that he knows so well. 
Tomura is smiling, wild and devious, as you look up at him with glossy eyes, so close to crying from the feelings, “I’m gonna do it. I’ll make you mine forever and you can’t do anything about it.” 
“Ah!” You should stop him, tell him to calm down but he has your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your back arching off of the bed. Everything is blurring together and you can only slur words as the drool from your earlier kiss trails down your cheek. 
You are completely at his mercy like this and you know your friends would be beyond disappointed.  
It just feels so good the way his cock drags in and out of your body pulling moans and whines from your throat. He was relentless in the way he pounded into you — beyond the point of being soft and slow because he knows that’s exactly you like it. 
“Say you want it.” The command comes with the slowing of his hips and you whine, high and needy as Tomura slows to a near stop.
“Tomura, I—“
“Say you want it or I swear to god I’ll stop right now.” It’s a threat and you don’t want to find out if he’ll go through with it. Tomura never goes back on his word. 
“No, please, don’t— I want it!” you pant, frustrated and aching for more movement.
“I want you to,” you stammer, desperate to have your release. “I don’t care if you cum in me. I need you so bad.”
“That’s my girl,” He coos, dipping his head down onto your shoulder, “Fuck.. love you s’much”
You stop — you’ve never heard him say that. Ever. You doubted he would ever say it since it’s been so long. 
He doesn’t give you a chance to ruminate on it because he's picking up the pace again and giving you the friction you were so deeply in need of. The feelings are swimming in your head as your cries reach new heights. Tomura is too far gone to stop you or care and you’re thankful. You couldn’t stop yourself if you tried. 
The build of your orgasm crashes down and sends you with it, making your thighs quiver in pleasure and your eyes squeeze shut. Tomura’s mouth meets yours before you could cry out, the warmth of his tongue guiding you as he fucked you through it. 
He didn’t last long after, the way your walls tightened around him with the force of your orgasm has Tomura’s pace erratic as he chased his own high. 
The bed shook as Tomura finally finished, hips stuttered as he released inside of you, hot seed coating your insides and making heat rise to your cheeks. He really did it.
You watch as he slows to a stop above you, his eyes closed as he enjoys the feeling of release. Tomura’s breathing was heavy and you couldn’t stop yourself from bringing him down into another kiss, traveling from his lips to his cheeks and then back again. 
It was intimate and you were worried it may have been too much, given the reason you were both in this situation was because of a stupid breakup. 
Tomura’s pulls out of you, making you wince and taking the feeling of being so full away from you. He doesn’t go far, opting to stay on top of you and rest his head on your shoulder, wanting to keep you as close as possible. 
“You really piss me off.” He mumbles into your shoulder, out of breath and tired. “God, why can’t you just stay with me.”
“Tomura…” Your hands run through his hair, the sweat is making it stick to his forehead as you wait for him to keep talking. 
“Stop leaving me.” His voice is firm, unwavering.
“You told me to go.” 
“I didn’t think you fucking would. I would never actually want you to.”
“I can’t read between the lines Tomura, I’m not in your head.” You make him look at you this time, pulling his hair a little to get him to raise his head. “Did you mean it?”
“I just said I didn’t—“
“No, the other thing you said.” He gives you a look of pure confusion and you lose a little bit of hope, “when you said you loved me?” 
You stare into his carmine eyes, hoping, praying it wasn’t just pillow talk from the heat of the moment. 
He looks at you for a long time, frustration still wearing on his features. If you didn’t know any better you would say he was pouting. “Of course I meant it. I’ve always felt like that.”
“But you’ve never said it!”
“I show it!”
“How?” This is getting frustrating and going in circles. 
He groans, sitting up and taking his warmth with him. “I’m not going to sit here and list everything I’ve ever done for you. I don’t think it works like that.”
You open your mouth to counter, irritation on your tongue because that’s not what you meant, but Tomura stops you again. 
“I don’t know how to explain it, okay?” He shakes his head and sighs, laying next to you on the bed and looking up at his ceiling. “It’s weird. I have these strong feelings, but it’s not hate, it's not anger. It's the opposite of that.”
You stare at him as he focuses ahead, keeping his eyes trained on the uninteresting ceiling above.
“Father said it’s a weakness and I should feel that way but,” There’s a pause as he looks away from the ceiling, meeting your eyes finally, “if it’s so weak of me, then why are the feelings so strong?” 
Your heart aches. It's clear that he’s torn, and with the strange way he was raised you know that he can’t help the way he is. 
“Tomura…” 
“And it won’t go away. I can’t fight them down or push them away like I can with everything else. It eats me up and I… guess I lash out because of it.” He shakes his head and for the first time Tomura looks defeated. You’ve never seen him this way — he’s always been filled with confidence and self assured. “I just don’t know what to do.”
You bring a hand to his cheek as you press your forehead against his. It kills you that this is what’s been on his mind and you aren’t sure what you could do to fix it. Maybe there was nothing you could do, physically, but you would do your best to be there for him emotionally.
“Sometimes,” you try to be careful with your words, knowing how much Tomura looks up to his foster father even though the man has been nothing but strange to him. “People say things that aren’t true because they don’t know how to live with it.”
Tomura’s guardian cannot live with love nor the idea of it. 
“That doesn't mean you have to live that way.” 
And it’s the truth. 
Tomura doesn’t say anything, just watches you with heavy lidded eyes, ruby red nearly glowing in the low light of the room. He was so much more than what people thought they knew of him and you didn’t care if it took time for others to see that.
He leans in, closing his eyes and you meet him halfway into a kiss. 
It's warm and it's soft and you know that even when your phone is buzzing from dozens of missed calls and texts from your friends, it will be fine. 
You and Tomura would take things one day at a time.
1K notes · View notes
gglitch1dd · 3 months
Text
Cheating DILF Izuku
Husband Midoriya Izuku x Wifey Reader
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Note: This is just an angst story. IT IS NOT CONFIRMED PART OF MY STORY. It is not CANON. Izuku would NEVER cheat but if he did... it would be like this. I wrote this just to watch people cry.
Warning: Child loss, grief, Infidelity, Absent parenting,
You felt him shift behind you as his alarm rang. It was early in the morning and yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to get up and out of bed yet. There was a whole ocean of space between you and your husband. A gap that had not been crossed or touched in over six months. It felt so cold to even try and move from your side of the bed because you knew that the person you were reaching out to was just as cold and if not, colder.
You heard your husband get out of bed and move towards the bathroom to get ready for work. There was no more slow morning sex, or waking up in his arms or to kisses. Anything and everything was work or the kids. That was all it seemed your marriage became in the span of six months.
You let out a heavy breath as you slowly sat up in bed. You looked to the right over to the family photo on your side table. You, your loving husband and your five boys. Something that seemed so far away despite the portraits having been taken just a year ago.
You got up out of bed and moved to go wake up the boys. You knocked on each of their doors, making sure they would be awake to get to school. You moved to your youngest’s bedroom. The four-year-old was still very much asleep which you were glad for. You moved over to where he was asleep in bed, his eyes closed. You gave a sad smile, but you were glad he was so blissfully unaware of everything else.
You moved to head downstairs, getting bento boxes ready and also breakfast. It was the same routine but something was always different which you couldn’t help but be grateful for.
Just as you fried the eggs, your oldest sons came downstairs.
“Morning mom!” Asahi greeted as he moved to quickly kiss your cheek and immediately went to grab plates to set the table. You smiled at your eleven year old son, already dressed in his gakuran.
“Morning ma!” Another kiss went to your cheek as Hero, your seven year old came and passed by, grabbing cutlery to put at the table, seemingly already in conversation with Asahi. You smiled over at him.
Finally walking over to you, in not as much as a rush than his younger brothers was Toshinori, your eldest. He gave your shoulders a squeeze and a kiss to your cheek. “Good morning, ma.” He easily picked up on tending to the other frying pan, grabbing his apron with one hand so that he could help you. He did it without being told and yet you always felt so grateful for his help. He looked at you with kind eyes and curly green hair. “Did you sleep well? How are you feeling?” He asked.
You smiled over at him, so grateful you had such an attentive eldest son. “I slept fine, thank you Toshi. I hope you slept well too.” You wished as you turned off the stove you were working at and turned to finish your husband’s bento box.
“I slept well.” He told you sweetly. “Did… did any email or mail come in yet?” he asked.
You turned to Toshinori with a smile. He had been eagerly awaiting a letter from UA. You were just grateful that with everything that happened the last six months, your son managed to still train and go to the physical exam to enter UA High School. Although you were pretty sure it was a guarantee that he would enter the school, considering he had your husband’s quirk due to him being born quirkless too, Toshinori wanted a fair and equal trial just like everyone else. He wanted to be deserving of it and in every way he was. 
You turned to him shoving him gently. “Hey…” he turned to you with slightly anxious eyes. You took a deep breath and he mimicked you. You took a second before you both breathed out. You smiled. “Everything is going to be fine. I told you, you’ll be the first one to read it the moment I get it.” You promised him. He nodded his head with a smile. He opened his mouth to speak but the heavy sound of footsteps interrupted him as finally your husband descended from downstairs.
“Morning dad!”
“Morning kiddos.” Your husband let out, his voice less chirpy than it was six months ago. Midoriya Izuku walked over to where you were in the kitchen, automatically grabbing a flask of hot made coffee that you had made for him. He was in his own world again. His eyes distant but his actions were trained. The autopilot you had all been on, kicking in.
You knew you wouldn’t receive a good morning from him.
You barely got him to notice you half the time now.
You cleared your throat as you closed his bento and packed it away. “Izuku, remember Asahi’s science project at school. The viewing is at two.” You reminded him as you grabbed a can of soda and placed it with the rest of his lunch that you packed.
“Y/N, you know I can’t make it.” You heard him talk as he grabbed an apple as makeshift breakfast, not bothering to have breakfast with any of you anymore.
You looked at him with a pained expression. “Izuku, you promised you would go.”
You heard a sigh come out of him as he grabbed his bag and finally looked at you, stopping for five seconds. Your large husband felt so far away from you despite not being more than three steps away from you. “Y/N, I’m the Number One hero of this country. I don’t have time to always go to every recital and function.” He reminded you.
You felt annoyance bubble up inside you as your eyebrows furrowed. Your grip on your apron tightened as you looked up at him. That was always his excuse nowadays. “Izuku, you have been so busy with work lately. It would mean the world to him if you showed up. He’s been getting into arguments at schoo-”
“Y/N, I have a meeting in less than an hour.” He dismissed as he started to turn to leave the kitchen. “I’m sorry. I promise I’ll try make it if I get time.” He waved it off as he headed towards the entrance hallway, leaving you and the boys alone once again.
You bit back the emotions of annoyance and disappointment as you let out a sigh and turned to do something else, ignoring the boys and their silence as they watched. That’s how mornings were like now. Either Izuku buzzing by too fast to even get more than a sentence out of him before he’s out the door, or he’s never there entirely.
It had been like this ever since your second youngest, Shoyo had passed away.
A villain had attacked his primary school as revenge against heroes including your husband. Your little boy had sacrificed himself along with Hanta and Mina’s youngest child, Sero Kimiko. It was a dark day in your group of friends to lose two six year olds, innocent and pure. It was a horrible incident, an even more horrible case. Your husband and other heroes were on the scene one minute too late.
It was a horrible time for all of you. You barely could call yourself a human after the funeral and even during the hearing of state vs the class A villain, Jigsaw. You don’t remember most of it, all you knew was that you didn’t even get to see your little boy’s body one final time before cremation, because there simply wasn’t anything to hold.
You couldn’t imagine the horrific sight your husband saw that day, but he only truly began to change once the court ruling had happened and Jigsaw was sentenced to the death penalty. Your husband had moved further and further away from you, almost as if being near you and the boys was torture.
You couldn’t understand it at all, but you always made excuses for him. Even when it was Toshinori’s fifteenth birthday and Izuku wasn’t there. You told your son everything under the moon to make him understand, and he did. Because he loved his father that much. But there was only so many excuses you could give for so long.
With all the kids at school and you having taken Koda to kindergarten, leaving you alone for a few hours, you decided to clean Izuku’s study. The grand room was filled with papers and books, his laptop monitors all on from the long night he spent in here after coming home from patrol. You didn’t even know how he kept on moving when it seemed like he barely slept in your own bed. You didn’t question the times he wouldn’t come home for days on end, always saying he spent his nights at the office.
You ignored the smell of perfume on his hero suits too.
You walked into the room, moving to clear his desk and the multiple mugs of empty coffee. You moved to clear all the clutter, moving classified documents into a pile where he could find them all. He worked hard, it was something you always admired about him. It was the reason why the crime rate had more than halved in the last six months.
You heard a message pop up on his monitor. He had long time connected his phone to his computer, he said it made it easier to access things sometimes. Izuku also had a habit of leaving things on when he wanted to get back to it but always getting so whirled up in his head that he never did get back to them sometimes.
You made the ugly mistake of looking up at the monitor, your eyes reading before you could stop yourself.
You didn’t move.
You didn’t breathe.
You watched as message after message popped up.
Suddenly it felt as if your entire world had fallen underneath your feet.
Izuku dragged a hand through his hair as he came in through the door. It was past eight and no doubt, dinner had already been eaten in the Midoriya household. He had gotten so caught up in work and other matters that time just washed by. But that’s just how time seemed to pass ever since…
His eyes automatically went to the photo in the entranceway that sat beside a candle that was always lit no matter the time of day. A photo of a little boy, not older than six, with the brightest green eyes and the biggest smile. Hair so big and curly it almost swallowed him up whole. Inko had told Izuku when Shoyo was born, that he looked the most like him out of every single one of the boys, with the same sparkle in his eyes and smile that reached the stars.
Looking at him now only made Izuku feel nothing but never-ending guilt.
Taking off his shoes, Izuku got into the house. It was that soft time when homework was either being done or the boys got to destress before their busy days tomorrow.
“Dad!” Izuku turned to see his eldest. Toshinori had his hands in his pockets as he walked over to his father. Every day it seemed like the boy was getting taller, although he still hadn’t hit that particular growth spurt. He’d probably get it in second year of high school, like Izuku had. Toshinori seemed a bit apprehensive, knowing how his father seemed much more rougher than he was before. But he couldn’t blame him. Something in all of them changed six months ago. “Evening.” He nodded his head.
It took Izuku a second before mustering up a smile. “Toshi, how was school?”
Toshinori gave a look of surprise which hurt Izuku. How long had it been since he asked his son that question? “G-good!” He let out with a smile, so excited that his father asked. “It was great! Yah, Kane and I got moved into the first team for rugby! Coach said I could really get better as long as…” A soft blush went to his face as he scratched the back of his head. “As long as I learn to stop accidentally activating One for All when I get too worked up.”
Izuku let out an amused scoff but put a hand to Toshinori’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. I struggled with that too even now. Just practise what I’ve already taught you and find a way to box it whenever you’re playing.” He advised. Toshinori perked up, his eyes as bright as stars as he smiled, glad to receive something from his father today. When last had he checked up on Toshinori and his use of One for All? Izuku felt sick at the thought. Izuku looked up to the empty kitchen. “Where’s mom?”
“Oh! She told me to tell you to meet her in your room. She said she had to talk to you about something. I’m not sure what.” He shrugged. “Must have to do with Asahi’s fight.”
Izuku nearly had whiplash as he turned to look back at Toshinori. “Fight? What fight?”
“Asahi got into another fight at school during the showcase. Didn’t tell me what about though.” Toshinori shrugged, but underlying worry in his demeanour.
Another?
Was this a frequent thing? Since when?
Izuku opened his mouth to speak but Toshinori beat him to it. “He’s been in his room since after dinner.”
Izuku nodded. “Thanks Toshi.” He turned to head straight upstairs. Izuku moved immediately straight into his mind at all this news. Fights? Since when did his eleven year old get into fights? Why wasn’t he told? Izuku was confused as he opened the door to your shared bedroom. He needed a shower and preferably a long night’s rest, but first he had to get down to this issue on Asahi. Your husband stepped into your bedroom. “Y/N, what is this I’m hearing about Asahi-”
“Close the door.” The tone in your voice had the green haired Number One hero freezing. It was eerily calm. It was horrifying because the only times you ever spoke like that was when you were angry. His eyebrows twitched as he looked to you as you sat on the other side of the master bedroom. The fire place in your bedroom was lit, which confused him because he didn’t think it all that cold to light a fire. Your eyes remained forward, your back towards him as you stood in the otherwise dark room. “Close the door, Midoriya.”
“Midoriya?” Izuku was confused. You hadn’t called him that since before you started dating, since third year of UA actually. It was an odd thing to hear come out of your lips, especially since you were Midoriya too. Izuku’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he stepped forward. “Y/N, what’s going-”
“Close the door.” This time you said it a bit more firmly, but you were careful not to shout considering your door was still open.
Izuku complied, closing the door behind him, because like everyone in your family, there were rules to your household. One rule was that only under emergency circumstances was your bedroom door to be opened without knocking or permission from the both of you. Another was that your bedroom was the one neutral place where you could both talk to one another openly and freely without worry of the kids and having to be mindful parents.
Or at least it used to be.
The room was silent and tensely so. You looked down at the fire the entire time, nothing but the sound of the burning of wood was in the room as you both stood at opposite sides of the room.
“Do you remember…” Your voice started, nearly startling your husband that felt as though he could break out into a sweat in any second. “When we started dating, you used to write me letters.” You spoke softly and yet Izuku could hear every word. He noticed then that there was burnt papers in the fire place and papers in your hand still. Pages of handwritten letters, of ink and passionate love sat in your hands. “Pages upon pages of images of your thoughts and emotions of me. Each one different than the other. Nothing was the same and yet they all carried the same undeniable feeling of you… Midoriya Izuku, the man I fell in love with.” You spoke with such delicacy, almost as if that feeling of receiving them was fresh inside you. “And yet,” Your grip on the papers grew hard. “Not even more than half a year after our fourth son’s death…” You tossed the papers into the fire, not even looking back at them as they crumbled and charred under the heat.
This was the first time Izuku saw you since coming back and the image of your face is something he would have scarred into him for the rest of his life. Tears flowed from your eyes, and yet the only look he could see on you was pure anger and disgust. You looked absolutely broken and Izuku knew in that moment that you knew.
“You cheated on me.” You whispered with such anger it almost felt like that was a slap in his face entirely. “Why?”
It was a simple question, and one that Izuku didn’t have the answer to. Izuku was shaking. He was as pale as snow and fear brimmed in his eyes for the first time in a long time and yet you didn’t care. He closed his eyes and breathed. “You know how hard it’s been for me these last few months. All the headlines and everyone saying that I wasn’t fast enough to save him. I… I’ve been swallowed up with guilt and grief.”
“You don’t think we all have?” You asked coldly, making him stiffen. You stepped forward with a scowl on your face. “I stay here and take care of our home, of our boys. Our boys who have the same face as their brother and I have to fight the urge to cry at every waking moment because I see him in their faces!” You shouted pointing at the door. “I’ve been grieving!” Your hand went to your chest, painfully so but you didn’t care how hard you squeezed. It didn’t compare to the agony in your heart that only reignited. “We’ve all been grieving! I’ve been begging you to talk to me! Telling you not to listen to the headlines and talk to me! To talk in therapy! You have no excuse!”
“I was weak!” He shouted back at you, angrier at himself than he could ever be at you. “Like always! Ochaco was there just as a friend and then it felt so easy just to talk to her and unburden with her and then…” He couldn’t say it. It felt too real if he said it. It was all just a dream to him. A fantasy he could indulge in for a few hours out of the agony. It meant nothing to him, not like how you mean the world to him.
You shrugged. “And then what? You tripped and fell into her cunt? What, Izuku!”
“I don’t know!” He shouted back at you. It was silent for another moment. “How did you find out?”
“Does it matter?”
“I guess it doesn’t.” He closed his eyes as he swallowed down the heavy pill.
This was it.
This was the end.
He had ruined everything all because he felt too much of a failure to face you and would have rather run to someone else than to you. His loyal and faithful wife. His loving wife. The woman that had given him everything. He felt a tear slip out of his eye as he looked down at the ground. He couldn’t look you in the eyes. Not when you knew. Not when you looked at him with the very thing he wanted to avoid in the first place.
He wiped his face. “Where are the divorce papers?” He asked in a whisper.
There was a beat of silence before a scoff came out of you. You folded your arms as you stood before him. “Divorce papers?” You asked almost as if it was funny. “Oh God, no.” Immediately, Izuku looked up at you in shock. You shook your head almost as if the very thought was unthinkable. “No. I’m not going to order a divorce. Do you know why?”
Izuku knew better than to give you a real answer. He decided to stay silent as he shook his head. The sound of your shoes on the floor was deafening as you walked forward to stand right in front of him.
You pointed to the picture on your bedside table. “Because of them.” You stated honestly. “Because of the four boys that we still have. That is the reason why I’m not getting the best divorce lawyer in this damn country. That is why I am not packing my bags and taking my children far away from you so that they can hate your actions just as much as I do.” You emphasised. “I love those boys more than I care for my own sanity and soul. I love those boys so much, I am painstakingly aware of the fact that I can never divorce you because I would never be able to take care of them without you. I love them so much that I know that they love you as if you hung the stars, Izuku!” You shouted at him, tears flowing down your face. A hiccup broke your voice but it didn’t stop you. “They love you so much and yet I know it would kill them to know what you’ve done! I refuse to let our sons hate you the same way you hate your father.”
That cold hard truth came crashing down on him like ice water. It chilled him to the very bone, and stirred his stomach making him feel sick.
Your jaw shivered with emotion, but you kept your head held high. “That is why I will not divorce you. I do not wish to inflict whatever more emotional trauma they could have after the last six months. So this is what is going to happen.” You folded your arms as you looked up at him. “Oh Izuku stop crying.”
He jolted as he hadn’t realised that there were tears flowing down his face. He moved a hand to his face, feeling the wetness of tears against his skin. He looked back at you. “Thank-”
“I don’t want to hear it, because I don’t care.” You cut him off quickly shutting him up. “I don’t care if you have every girl in the whole of Japan wrapped around your finger, but those women will never set a single foot into this house or into our children’s lives, do you understand me? If word gets out about this, you damn believe I will drain you dry Izuku. I will make sure that there is nothing left of your legacy that you have cultivated.” You hissed with pure intent in every word you said.
Izuku nodded his head pathetically scared of you (rightfully so). “Y/N, I promise you, I’ll never do it again! I’ll go to therapy again! We can go together. I promise I’ll change and-”
“I don’t care because you will never touch me sexually again.” You told him flat out. “We will act, we will pose, we will sing if we damn have to, to make our boys and the rest of Japan believe that we are somewhat of a functioning team at least until they are all out of the house. But Izuku know this…” You stepped forward as you looked up at him.
This was the man you had fallen in love with. A man who held your heart in the palm of his hand so easily that it was probably foolish of you to have loved him as much as you did. You loved Midoriya Izuku. You loved his smile, his muttering, his large scarred hands that held a world full of problems but still held you tenderly, you loved his laugh, you loved his heart. You loved the man standing in front of you.
“I love you.” You let out brokenly, taking the both of you by surprise. You nodded your head with a smile, a smile so broken it looked wrong on your face. “I love you, and you are the father of my children and my partner, but you will never again be my husband.”
Izuku didn’t move, he didn’t speak, he didn’t breathe. He was stuck there like a statue but you still continued.
“Now…” You brushed down your front. “I have to go give Toshinori his acceptance letter to UA. I advise you clean yourself up first before you go anywhere near my son.” You moved to walk right past him, your shoes deafening as you walked out the room closing the door behind him.
Izuku was motionless still, even without you in the room.
This was a worser fate than a divorce. Being trapped with the love of his life and never feeling her love back in return. Being married but never being your husband ever again.
“Morning mom!”
“Morning mom!”
A kiss went to your cheek as you were finishing up breakfast. Toshinori smiled at you as he placed his hands on your shoulders. “Good morning, mom.”
You let out a chuckle, trying to fill in the void and hollow feeling inside you. You grabbed your eldest son, bringing him into a hug as he laughed. “There’s my hero!” he grabbed a hold of you, picking you up off your feet making you shout in surprise. You had forgotten that with One for All he had also inherited his father’s strength. “Toshinori!” You shouted out in surprise. “Put me down!”
He laughed and held you tight, but put you back on your feet. You couldn’t help but giggle as he moved to switch off the stove and grab plates out of the cabinet. The heavy footsteps of your husband were heard as he descended from upstairs. You didn’t bother to look up at him.
Izuku looked a bit less like the mess you left him in last night. You had told him that for the night he wasn’t allowed in your bedroom, and he would stay in the office he cared about more than you in the last six months. He wore sweatpants as he kept one hand in his pockets and came down.
Asahi looked up from where he was setting the table. “Morning dad!”
“Morning buddy.” Izuku forced a smile to his face as he walked over to the table. He pulled Asahi in for a hug making his eyes go wide in surprise. The other boys looked at their father confused but didn’t say anything. “How did you sleep?”
“…fine.” He answered, glancing at you. You shrugged, acting to be oblivious. He did the same thing with Hero as well, before coming over to do the same with Toshinori.
Toshinori looked up at his father in surprise. “Morning dad… is your shift later in the day?” He asked as he noticed his father’s rather casual attire. He normally would just sleep in or rest more and let the four of you have breakfast by yourselves.
Izuku hesitated but shook his head as he moved over to grab an extra plate, noticing that the number of plates Toshinori had gotten was just for the four of you excluding him. “No.” He answered rather blankly. Izuku took his plate as well as the other plates that Toshinori was holding and went to go put them on the table. Asahi noticed the extra plate and went to go and grab more cutlery.
Breakfast was finished and so you all moved to the table. You kept notice of the time, wondering if you should wake up Koda or not. You sat next to Izuku on his right side like before, as he sat at the head of the table. Toshinori sat beside you, not wanting to sit on the other side of his father today. Your three eldest boys sat quietly, not touching their plates either as they looked between you and their father. You looked to Izuku and for a moment your husband froze.
That was the look you always gave him whenever you all used to sit at the table together. You would sit together and you would let him lead. Izuku felt horrible knowing that you were perfect. You always used to make it so important that the boys learnt from him in being a good male figure, no matter what. And yet as you looked at him now, all he saw was emptiness in your eyes. Rightfully so.
He cleared his throat and smiled. He put his hands together. “Thank you for the food.” The boys quickly followed afterwards before you all started eating. You sat posed and composed as if last night wasn’t one of the worst nights of your life. Izuku looked up at the three boys. “Actually boys…” He started.
The three of them looked up, heads of green hair perking up as they looked to their large Prohero father who sat at the head of the table. You were quiet as you let him say whatever piece he wanted to say. Whether he wanted to tell the boys or not, you wouldn’t intervene.
“I owe an apology to all of you.” He started. Toshinori’s eyebrows raised in surprise. He glanced at you with an emotionless expression but then looked back at his father. “To you and…” He motioned to the three of them before moving to look at you. You put your hand down silently allowing whatever he was doing. He put his hand over yours, squeezing it and yet you didn’t squeeze back. “And to your mother. The last six months have been…” He paused. A heavy pause that everyone felt. “Difficult for all of us and I haven’t been around as much as I should have. I’m sorry about that. And so… I’ve decided that I am taking some time off.”
All the boys whipped their heads to look at you as if asking you if it was true. You shrugged. You didn’t know either where this decision had come from, but you were glad that it seemed like he was making true to whatever dribble he had tried to sprout out last night to you.
Toshinori hesitated but looked back at his father with an optimistic look on his face. “That’s… That’s great dad.” He smiled. He looked to his brothers.
Hero and Asahi seemed more excited than you had seen them in a while. Hero nodded his head. “Yah! And just in time for break too! Maybe we can go on a road trip!” He spoke out an idea.
Izuku laughed but nodded. “I was thinking more of a vacation but whatever you boys want.”
“Oh!” Asahi perked up. “What about Australia?”
Toshinori shook his head. “Nah.” He took a bite of his toast. “Mom hates the giant spiders.”
“How about Greece?!” Hero suggested. “Mom was watching Mamma Mia two weeks ago! That place looked so cool and blue!”
You watched the boys bicker about a family vacation which brought a smile to your face. You were glad to see they were some semblances of happy for the first time in a long time.
Your eyes flicked down to where Izuku had his hand over yours still. You gripped his hand immediately taking his attention. You smiled at him as you leaned forward closer to his ear. “Good job, honey.” You said, enough that if the boys looked it would have been innocent, but Izuku knew what that was. He didn’t need it spelt out to him.
You placed a kiss to his lips, brief and to the point, making the boys gag. “Ew!”
“Mom! Please not at the table!” Asahi let out in deep exasperation.
Izuku was still for a moment, tears burning at his eyes. Your kiss was fake. Your praise was fake. Everything was a show, a play for the boys to be happy. You were still disappointed in him. You would always be disappointed in him.
He let out a shaky breath and smiled. “Hey! Leave my wife alone.” He said jokingly.
No matter what, he’d carry for the rest of his life, the fact that he had disappointed you.
-Glitch1d
[Izuku Midoriya Masterlist]
[Cheating Dilf Izuku Masterlist]
1K notes · View notes
moonstruckme · 2 months
Note
oh my god i was hoping u werent sick (no pun intended unless…) of all the doc rem requests!!!
can we get not just a regular doc rem but a casually dominant doc rem. like he’ll make sure ur drinking ur water, fixing ur posture by pulling your shoulders back gently, forcing u to put on a jacket if its just a tad 🤏🏻 bit cold outside
and ofc will scold u (lovingly) in the process. fem!reader is all like 🙄 but loves how much he cares about her
You're a genius for this lovely, thanks for requesting!
cw: alcohol
doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 994 words
Your throat’s been bothering you since you woke up. It’s just a little scratchy, barely anything, but it feels like an ill omen. Still, you’re not going to bring your life to a halt on the slim chance the tickle in your throat is going to turn into something worse, and Remus would never hear the end of it if you skipped out on one of Sirius’ things anyway. 
You probably should have abstained from drinking, though. You’ve only had one, but now your throat hurts worse, the music and chatter are too grating, and your head feels a tad fuzzier than it ought to. Sirius and Remus have gone from bickering about music to teaming up against James to bicker about films without your noticing, and now Lily’s offering you another drink and you have to ask her to repeat herself before declining. There’s an inconvenient ache blooming behind your eyes. 
You know you’ve been sussed out when Remus wraps his hands around your hips, pulling you into his lap. 
“You’re quiet,” he murmurs. “Everything alright?” 
“Mhm.” You leave it at that, leaning a back against his chest. 
He hums. “Did you finish your water today?” 
“Yeah.” 
“What have you had to eat?” 
You roll your eyes. Remus knows, somehow. He gives your hip a warning squeeze. 
“Rem, I’m fine.” 
“What have you eaten?”
You tell him, as if he wasn’t there for breakfast and didn’t pack your lunch himself. He nods, reassured you’d finished it all. 
“You seem knackered for only having had one drink,” he observes. 
You shrug. “I’m just not up to more tonight.” 
It’s the wrong thing to say. 
Remus hums, his grip adjusting just slightly to hold you more securely against him. “Are you not feeling well?”
“I’m just a bit tired.” 
“Dove.” Your boyfriend has several tones you know well enough to pick up on a single word. This one is all too familiar. It’s mistrustful, admonishing, heavy with the weight of implied consequence. It says, I know you’re not being fully honest with me. 
James may not pick up on all that, but he recognizes the shift in Remus’ attention, one of your boyfriend’s lengthy hands splaying protectively over your stomach. He sends you an amused look, which you return with a touch of loving pique, and then Remus is turning you around in his lap. 
“Dove,” he says again, breath fanning over your face and eyes boring into yours and overall torturously close to you, “are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?” 
You give up on denials, turning your eyes up to his pleadingly. “It’s really not bad,” you try.
Remus is unmoved. “Tell me, and I’ll say if it’s bad.” 
“I don’t want to make it a thing.” 
“You’re not. Go on.” 
You sigh, squirming under the attention you can feel at your back. Remus’ friends have continued talking, but you know his behavior has caught their attention. “My throat’s just a bit sore,” you admit, “and I guess the alcohol must’ve made it worse.” Remus sets a hand to your forehead, nodding for you to continue. “I feel a bit more affected than I usually would, so I decided to stop. That’s all.” 
“Well, you don’t have a fever.” You release a tiny exhale, and Remus’ lips twitch. “How long has your throat been bothering you, sweetheart?” 
You consider lying, but it’ll only make things worse. “Since this morning.” 
They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but your boyfriend’s stare beats that easily. “You ought to have told me,” he says in a low voice. 
“It’s just a sore throat.” You roll your eyes. Remus makes a soft tsking sound that lets you know he’ll remember it. 
“I have you talk to me about these things for a reason,” he says. “Do you know why that is?” 
You’d really rather not enable him, but you’re trapped. You let your expression convey your reluctance. “Why?” 
“Because I’d tell you,” he slips one hand beneath your top, thumb sweeping across your side in the way that softens you like butter, “not to drink when you’re coming down with something.” 
“I don’t know if I am,” you say weakly. 
“Hopefully not.” Remus smears a kiss across your forehead, reaching for his coat. “But if you are, we might still be able to avoid it if you let yourself rest. Y/N’s not feeling well,” he explains to Sirius when the other boy notices his preparations for departure. “I’m going to take her home.” 
“Aw, I didn’t know you were sick,” James covers for his sour friend, who’s still looking like he might protest. 
“I’m not,” you say, but Remus ushers you towards the door. 
Lily gives you a kind look, glancing knowingly towards your boyfriend. “Feel better, love.” 
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he placates his friends, placing his jacket over your shoulders. He opens the door for you, and seems all too prepared for the argument on the tip of your tongue when you step outside. “Don’t take off the jacket. You should have brought your own, but now that you’re sick I don’t want to risk weakening your immune system.” 
“I’m not sick,” you insist, starting to shrug the jacket off despite his hands pinning it to you. “And it’s barely cold out here.” 
Remus levels you with a look. “Keep it on.” 
You huff but stop your attempts to remove the covering, trying not to notice how Remus has slowed his brisk pace to accommodate you. “Why did we have to leave?” you ask. “I’m not feeling that bad, really.” 
“I figured you wouldn't want me looking down your throat with a flashlight in front of everyone.” You purse your lips, and Remus grins, wrapping an arm around you. He rubs your shoulder through the material of his jacket. “I’m looking out for you in more ways than one, dove,” he teases, “you can trust in that.”
758 notes · View notes
faeriekit · 2 months
Text
Feet on the Ground
loose phic phight fill for @oldfashionedbattlehymn
warnings for: murder attempt, discussion of child death
********
Danny wakes up in a garbage bag.
It isn’t as gross as it sounds. Danny’s the only thing in there, and it’s not like the lack of air is going to kill him; he could rip his way out, but honestly, going intangible is just as effective and twice as easy.
And, of course, once he’s phased his way out of the dumpster behind the gas station, Danny is very, very grateful that he didn’t even try. Everything else in there is….eeugh. He shivers.
Well. It’s got to be early morning now—it’s dark. There’s no other cars on the highway. Even the gas station itself is closed, and the stars have already lost their spark.
Time to head home.
*
Danny wakes up behind the gas station. Again.
…Okay?
The first time, Danny had just assumed he’d fallen asleep somewhere weird while flying around the neighborhood, but a second time is a pattern. It’s definitely not his fault this time either, because there’s no way he would have duct taped his arms and legs together or slapped a gag on his mouth.
That’s kind of. Ominous.
Danny frees himself of the garbage bag first— and thank goodness he doesn’t have to breathe— he floats himself out of the bag and the dumpster, which had…thankfully been given a good scrubbing since last time? There’s some other trash, apparently, but nothing sharp enough to cut through his durable, tape-based bonds. It takes some finagling and some eye lasers for Danny to finally get his arms free.
And. Hoo Boy. There’s no more liberating a feeling than peeling tape off your mouth, even if your mouth skin kind of comes off with it and you bleed a little. But it’s fine! It’s green, which means it’ll heal.
Fabulous. Danny zooms off invisibly into the night, more than willing to put the night behind him.
*
…Okay, the third time is what makes it more than a coincidence.
Danny shucks out of the bruise-tight ropes around his wrists, torso, knees, and legs, spits out his gag, and flies home. He finally has to give into the inevitable, and attempts the last resort:
“Jazz?” he whispers, slowly rocking his sister in her bed. Jazz mumbles in her sleep.
“Jaaaaazzy…” Danny tries again, trying not to look either too spooky or too imposing. Jazz’s reflexes are such that—
The laser she keeps under her pillow goes off. Danny loses a few millimeters of hair, which means that her aim is getting better.
 He doesn’t have any trouble seeing in the dark (or, uh, not anymore, anyway), but it’s easy to see Jazz’s sleepy squint as she pulls herself somewhat upright. More like a shrimp with scoliosis, but, well. You know.
“Whuh,” Jazz asks. “...Danny?”
“Hey,” Danny whispers, a ghost at her bedside. Jazz grunts. “Uh. What does it mean when you keep waking up in a trash bag behind the gas station?”
Jazz blinks. Jazz rubs her eyes. Jazz blinks again, looking more sleepy than coherent but at least somewhat aware of her surroundings.
“Garbage bag?” Jazz asks blearily. “You were in a garbage bag?”
“Yeah,” Danny whispers back. “My legs were tied down?”
“...Danny, were you murdered?”
Danny stops.
“Huh?” says Danny.
*
“So, if you look here,” Tucker points out, finger not quite touching the glass of his CRT monitor, “That’s when Danny gets murdered.”
There is a collective eeew from the assembled viewers— Jazz, Sam, and Danny, all crowded in Tucker’s room.
“Yeah, Tucker agrees. The light from the black-and-white footage flashes in the reflection of his glasses. “Here’s where he’s tossed in…there. And this is when they tossed him in the dumpster.”
There’s no sound on the gas station surveillance footage, but Danny imagines that his body clanged on the way in. What the hell. Danny got murdered behind a gas station, and he didn’t even notice?!
They watch the archived footage of a Ford F-150 driving off the property, and then Danny’s dead body being unceremoniously tossed in a dumpster. It’s kind of surreal. No one had noticed. There was no one to report the crime committed.
“I can’t believe that guy just clocked you over the head, like that,” Sam points out. “It’s just a regular car jack. It shouldn’t have gotten you in the first place.”
The observation isn’t appreciated.
“Be nice! My brother was just murdered,” Jazz scolds. Danny doesn’t think she sounds as offended as she should be. “Either way, it’s certainly an attempted murder, if not a successful one. We have to do something.”
“…Can’t we just call the cops?” Tucker asks, turning away from the computer. “I mean. Look. That’s proof. We have proof right here.”
Sure enough, there is footage. Right there. There’s Danny’s murder, in 240p black and white.
“Where’s the body?” Sam asks dryly, and. Uh. That’s a problem they’ll have to solve.
Everyone looks at everyone else. No one has a good solution.
��…Do we have to do this?” Tucker realizes at the same second as the rest of them.
Jazz looks at Danny. Danny looks at Sam. Sam looks at Tucker.
Tucker stares back at them, entirely unenthused with the conclusion they’ve come to.
“…Okay then,” Jazz exhales. “How do you want to do this?”
*
Sam ends up on top of the gas station, a cell phone in her hand.
Tucker, PDA in hand, sits in Jazz’s passenger seat. The camera feed is ongoing and recording for posterity.
Jazz taps her fingers on the wheel of her car. There isn’t anywhere better to hide than down the road and around the corner, so she does, hoping that they’re on the other end of the road from whoever’s killing her brother every night.
Danny is, of course, wandering through the neighborhood.
Losing her baby brother—on purpose—is the worst thing Jazz can imagine. She feels sick. She wants to throw him into the car and speed away, and break every speed limit law in the county on her way out. She wants to pack him in bubble wrap and ship him expedited to France.
But she does leave her brother alone. She lets Tucker look over the footage as Danny roams around town, just as unaware and unsuspecting as his last few outings.
Tucker sees the man first.
He bolts upright, eyes on his PDA. “Jazz.”
Her head whips around. They watch, silently, as someone approaches Danny’s lone figure on the doorstep outside the gas station.
They can’t hear anything. That’s the scariest part.
“Call,” Jazz demands. Tucker does.
Doubtlessly, on the roof of the gas station, Sam is dialing too.
*
So. Danny knows this guy.
And. Uh. It’s kind of embarrassing; he’d asked if Danny was okay walking home alone at night a few hours before his dumpster wake-up call, and Danny had said it was fine.
Apparently, no, it wasn’t fine. That being said, Danny hadn’t been expecting a guy in a button-up and khakis to be the guy murdering him on the down low. He kind of looks like the dude who sells you televisions and burner phones at a Wal-Mart.
The guy comes all the way over to where Danny is sitting on the thin concrete step of the gas station. His breath fogs up from the weather and his eyes rake over Danny, up and down; down and up.
“Hey,” he says, looking all the world like any other concerned citizen. Danny’s heart throbs. “It’s cold outside. You need a ride back to town?”
“…No,” says Danny, who doesn’t.
“Your mom okay with you comin’ home late by yourself?” the man asks nervously, hands going to his hair.
Danny thinks about how many times he’s woken up in the dumpster. He thinks about seeing his own body on the camera tape. Prone. Dead.
“You still keep a car jack in your passenger seat?” Danny asks instead.
The man freezes. An attempted murderer he might be, but he’s not exactly an Oscar-winning actor. “What?”
“The car jack,” Danny repeats. He doesn’t know if he’s mad the man keeps targeting him, or whether he’s grateful Danny’s the only one who’s died so far. “It’s got a lot of sharp corners. They hurt, you know.”
The man…carefully laughs the statement off, but he looks. Nervous.
Danny doesn’t really need to confront him; he only has to stall long enough that Tucker or Sam can call the cops, so that they can see this man’s face and get him on the record. But.
There’s a part of Danny…
The man looks so human. Flush with blood. Solid enough to break. Fragile enough to be made broken.
Danny still resents being made dead. This man didn’t kill Danny—not in any way that mattered, but he’s an easy target.
He doesn’t breathe. The man watches a boy sit in the shadows of a building where he’s been dumping bodies, and Danny can taste his fear.
“It hurt a lot,” Danny says, and he isn’t referring to waking up in the bags every couple of mornings in the last few weeks. “It hurt so much. I was screaming.”
The man is silent.
“Do you like to hear the screaming?” Danny asks, suddenly curious. Did he care, if Danny had screamed, or if he had been too unaware to notice he was dying? Would he have cared, if there were others more breakable than Danny that he had hurt?
He doesn’t answer.
“I don’t like it,” Danny confesses. In a horrible way, it’s easy to tell his would-be murderer about his death—unlike Tucker or Sam, who witnessed it, or Jazz, who loves him, this man can’t be affected by Danny’s take on his own death. In fact, if he is hurt by the thought of Danny’s death…good. It’s better if he is. If there is remorse in him. “I don’t like to hear screaming. I screamed for so long, and so loud. It felt like forever.”
The man’s hands curl. He steps back.
Danny can’t help but to frown. If he leaves, the whole point of calling the cops will be for nothing, and he’ll be warier of coming back to where Danny’s body was dropped. “Where are you going?”
The man takes another step back. Danny rockets upright. He’s on his feet in seconds. “Weren’t you here for me?” Danny asks, genuinely confused, arms outstretched. “We’re here. You dumped me here over and over again.”
“Shut up,” the man snaps, startling the both of them with his volume. “He—you’re not real. You’re… Be quiet. I have real things to get done tonight!”
Danny’s dead heart throbs. Is there another dead kid? Did Danny let another kid get killed in Danny’s place? “Do you?”
The man loses his voice.
“We’re already here,” Danny points out. He steps closer—closer to the truck that drove his dead body around town, further from the dumpster where his body had been dropped. The disposal hadn’t been a funeral, but it’s closer than anything Danny’s ever had. “You’re here. I’m here. Aren’t you here for me?”
A choked breath. Danny gets closer. The ectoplasm in his skin is too warm and too cold—but he has no idea what he looks like from the outside. Is he glowing? Is he see-through? Does he just look like any other dead kid: a little too cold, a little too pale?
They’re eye to increasingly shorter eye. Up close, the man just looks like any other guy. Shaved in the face. Wrinkles around his eyes. A nose. A mouth.
Danny’s not afraid of him. His head tilts. “You’ve already killed me three times. What are you going to do now? I’ll just come back again. I won’t even notice. I died. I know what you look like—I know how to find you. It’ll be easy.”
The man’s pupils dilate—
And then there’re hands on Danny’s neck. And. It’s kind of painful, but Danny doesn’t have to breathe. So. He just kind of…pretends to be hurt?
He’s meant to be stalling for time. The cops are coming. All he needs is time.  
So Danny makes some somewhat dramatic sounds and kicks out with his feet, because a fight lasts longer than a passive victim. He lands a hit to the man’s stomach, and another to his chest—he doesn’t drop Danny the way Danny might have expected, but Danny isn’t going to run out of air, so this can last forever until the man lets go. Or does something.
“Stop— coming— back,” the man snarls, and suddenly sounds nothing like the dudes who man the tech counter at the Walmart. “I got you— you should be gone!” 
Danny is gone. But he’s also here. And he’s also been gone for a very long time, and he’s also getting choked out by a guy in a gas station parking lot. It’s been a rough few hours of waiting for this dude. He might as well make it worth it. 
So maybe his body turns a little translucent. Just a little. Just enough to see the streetlight through his skin, probably, and the hazy road behind them. 
Getting thrown to the concrete hurts, but, you know, not as badly as getting tossed into a wall by Skulker on a rampage. Danny’s barely going to be bruised after this. 
The guy runs to his car, and Danny frowns, scrambling back up, and, wait. Wouldn’t having bruises be better? As evidence? They better not heal too quickly, or else that’ll be it of his physical proof. 
“Where are you going?” Danny asks, more perplexed and angry than anything. Isn’t he supposed to try to kill the witness??
But the guy hauls butt into the cab of his truck— and then the lights go on and the tires start spinning, the engine roaring to life. 
If Danny wasn’t actively on camera at the moment, it would be easy to fly after the car. As it is, he’s pretty fast, but he’s not quite quick enough on his feet to chase after a pickup truck careening down the highway in the dark. 
The man’s gone in a few seconds. Honestly, Danny’s kind of annoyed about the whole thing. It would have been nice for it to work. 
Sam climbs down from the roof of the gas station, phone in her hand. “No, I just— he choked out my friend and drove off! Send someone over here already!! You— do you need the license plate again?!” 
Danny just looks at her. Sam covers her phone’s mic with a hand: “They’re saying five minutes,” she mouths. 
Great. 
Danny hunkers down, throat bruising, and Sam sits down beside him. They wait.  
By the time the cops pull into the gas station, the guy’s more than out of sight. Sam’s the one who takes the lead on dictating their story. Danny sort of doesn’t realize how out of it he is until someone tries to throw a shock blanket on him. He almost hits the guy square in the face— and Sam’s the one who has to catch his arm. 
Uh. Oops. 
Jazz and Tucker roll in, hardly pretending to have not been nearby; Jazz wraps her arms around him, and Danny lets her. 
Sue him. It’s late. He’s tired. 
“...And I can’t believe you weren’t able to get down the road in time to catch a man who choked out my best friend,” Sam snaps, which, aw! Danny’s a best friend. The cop she’s attempting to strip down for parts looks less sympathetic than Danny feels. “You’re barely a ten minute drive up the highway! What were you doing, meandering?” 
“No,” the cop grits out, eying Sam like a bug on his shoe. “We were telling the officer down the road what to look out for.” 
Apparently, jamming the gas down hard enough to bust your speedometer gets you pulled over at the speed check. 
The night is over before Danny knows it. Someone gets him to the station, someone takes photos of his bruises and takes his statement. Someone calls Mom and Dad and then Danny’s in the GAV, half asleep and exhausted beyond belief. 
He falls asleep on the couch, Mom’s fingers in his hair. 
*
It’s not like the Amity Park police tell them anything, but Jazz is the one who finds the report on the news. 
She records it on the TiVo for him. 
“Eustace Miller, from Tennessee,” Sam reads aloud, knee to knee on his couch. Tucker adjusts his glasses. “Looks like he was already on the run.” 
“Or as good as,” Tucker agrees quietly. “Looks like they’re pinning a couple of cold cases to him.” 
They watch; there’s pictures of him from his hometown, and from the towns he would visit on his joyride across the country. There were pictures of his family. There were pictures of kids Danny would never meet: kids who were already dead, and who had been for months. Years, even. 
They’d looked so happy in the photos from when they were alive. 
…Danny could relate. 
Jazz turns the report off that night, thumb on the power button. And that’s all it takes for Danny to stop waking up in a trash bag. 
649 notes · View notes
satoruxx · 3 months
Text
pairing: toji fushiguro x reader | 1.2k words summary: fluff, toji being his sarcastic asshole self, but secretly a softie, more grumpy x sunshine content to feed the soul, reader is a uni student, toji ACTUALLY having MONEY???? rheya's note: more grumpy toji bc i'm in love w him !! this is lowkey not great but i have nothing else to post so here <33
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you drum your fingers against your lips, eyes scouring the racks of pastries and sweets to satisfy the steady rumble brewing low in your stomach.
a quick snack before your final exam—that's the plan. so you let your eyes wander until they fall on a warm croissant, looking oh so delectable with its crusted flakes and buttery goodness. so you smile to yourself and head over to the register, eager to get your hands on the snack after a long morning of hard work and studying.
you wait patiently behind the customer in front of you, tapping your foot idly as you scroll on your phone to pass the time, until the cashier calls you up with a wave of his hand.
"what can i get for you?" he asks, and you immediately tap your finger against the glass.
"a croissant please."
he nods, reaching out to grab it with a napkin before dropping it into a paper bag. you fiddle with your wallet, pulling out your credit card and handing it to him, but his expression turns slightly awkward.
"oh sorry," he winces, turning around a sign next to the register. there in bold letters it reads: CARDS NOT ACCEPTED. CASH ONLY.
your shoulders drop, fingers frantically digging into the crevices of your wallet even though you know there isn't any cash in there.
dammit. should've gone to the bank to withdraw some after tipping the delivery guy last week.
"i don't think i have cash on me…" you trail off, face heating up because you're sure that the customers waiting behind you are now slightly ticked off.
the cashier scratches at his wrist awkwardly, giving you a half apologetic shrug. "sorry…"
your face twists, embarrassment thrumming low in your stomach as you shut your wallet with a resigned sigh. "it's fine, you can just leave it—"
"i got it." a deep voice utters from behind you, tone careless. you turn to look over your shoulder only to find your throat going dry, because whoever you were expecting to see was nothing like what this man looked like.
a towering, imposing build, heavy with muscle. sharp, angular features framed by jet black hair that just barely tickled his neck. and deep green eyes that are staring down at you, emotionless. the only change in his features is the tug of his scarred lips when they take in your wide eyed expression.
"oh—uh—" you stumble, caught off guard, the words coming up all jumbled like you've forgotten how to speak. the man moves closer, now hovering right behind you as he reaches a bulky arm out to drop a few bills onto the counter. you inhale sharply, not expecting the proximity.
"that about cover it?" he tilts his head at the cashier, who has gone quiet. he nods, too quickly, a nervous dip in his brows that you don't quite comprehend. but then you glance at the man again—at his hulking frame and narrowed eyes and his unkind expression, and you guess you understand.
and yet, nothing about him is inherently scary. he's intimidating, but in an oddly comforting way.
"a-and anything for you sir?" the cashier asks, giving the man a nervous smile.
"coffee. black." his tone is clipped, unbothered, and the cashier nods. he reaches over and hands you your bagged croissant.
"then if you could just wait to the side and we'll have your coffee ready in a minute, sir."
the man nods once, glancing at you briefly before taking a few steps to wait to the side.
"thank you," you say quietly, feeling oddly parched as you look at him. he peers down at you with those striking eyes, and you offer him a smile—half sheepish and half grateful.
"don't worry about it," he replies with a shrug, casually shoving his hands into his pockets. "couldn't have you holdin' up the line."
he nods behind you, motioning to the line, and you huff indignantly, ignoring the flare up of embarrassment once again.
"well if they put the sign on the door then i wouldn't have walked in here like an idiot," you mutter, crossing your arms. he chuckles, low and deep, shaking his head with amusement.
"'s true," he grins. "pretty fuckin' stupid of them."
you don't expect him to agree, so you just nod, mildly surprised.
"you look like you haven't eaten all day," he comments offhandedly, glancing around the cafe like he's bored. you fiddle with your hair somewhat self-consciously, and he glances down at you from the corner of his eyes. "i just mean you look exhausted."
"oh," you reply lamely, a helpless shrug of your shoulders following. "well i have a final exam in an hour and i didn't get much sleep last night."
"at least you studied hard," he hums, reaching out over the counter to take the cup of black coffee the barista hands him. he turns to look down at you with a haphazard shrug. "you did what you could. no point stressin' about it now."
"i guess…" you trail off. "still nervous though."
his lips curl upward, eyes glinting. "you should be more confident in yourself, kid." he takes a sip, tilting his head down at you, before turning and heading out into the cold.
you stare after him, not sure what to do with yourself. somehow you didn't expect it to be so easy to talk to a man who looked like he wanted to burn the world to the ground, but surprises can come in all shapes and forms.
and for some reason, his intimidating aura and indifferent stare has you oddly curious.
it's only when you peer into your paper bag, seeing the croissant that you've heroically been gifted, do you come up with a plan, pushing the door open and hurrying out into the cold. your eyes immediately catch his retreating figure, still large and imposing even with how he's hunched over to escape the bite of the cold.
"wait!" you call out after him, catching yourself before you trip on your own two feet. he pauses, turning to look down at you while arching a brow as you try to compose yourself. "uh—"
"toji." he fills in, huffing quietly as his hands remain shoved deep into his pockets.
"toji," you repeat, not admitting to enjoying the way it rolls off of your tongue so easily. "i need to pay you back."
he clicks his tongue, shaking his head. "ah, don't worry about it, doll." the scar on his lips tilt upward into a half smirk. "just ace that test of yours, yeah?"
something leaps in your ribcage, and you blame the flush crawling up your neck on the stinging cold. you're not sure what to say for a second, but then an unfamiliar confidence crawls through your veins, culminating in a burst of determination.
"i'll buy you something here next time!" you don't know how or why you say it, lips clamping shut because you're sure that you're coming on too strong or coming off weird or something.
a low chuckle. you look up in surprise.
"sure." toji's grin widens, eyes shining with mirth. "i'll hold you to that one, kid."
and later, when you bite into the croissant, it's warmer than you expected it to be.
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harleehazbinfics · 2 months
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Can We? an au lucifer x reader oneshot
Author Profile a/n: SURPRISEEEEEE. i got 'we become we' -journey to jerusalem song on a loop since i found it and i knew i wasn't gonna get it out of my system unless i do something about it. so pls enjoy my ramblings lmfao word count: 1200+
"Your Majesty, please reconsider this! Our kingdom needs a Queen!"
Lucifer sighs at the aide's words, feeling irritated with the insistent suggestion of a Queen.
"I agree, your majesty. The people are quite worried for you. You need an heir, and you aren't getting any younger either," another aide jumps in.
Lucifer surrenders to them with hands in the air in exasperation and finally replies, "Fine."
The people in the room sigh in relief that they somehow got through to him. But hitch their breath when he adds on.
"However, I won't just choose anyone. Only the best candidate will stand by my side and be rightfully called the Queen," he glares.
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"Good day, your majesty. My name is (full name), Princess of the Eastern Kingdom. I'm grateful for this opportunity," you smile amiably.
"Likewise," he responds quite honestly shocked from your tone.
You were the guest that was expected to arrive at the palace after receiving the invitation to be a Queen candidate. However, after word got around that you will be joining the fight for the title. All the ladies mutually agreed to resign. When he asked why, all the aide's replies were, "There is no other person worthy to be by your side other than the Princess."
Now, you stood in front of him. You were dressed beautifully, but not as extravagant as those ladies that came before him. You had a melodic tone in your voice that was pleasant to the ear. Your hands folded together gracefully. Everything about you was enchanting.
You tilt your head confused about his speechlessness. "Did I catch you in the wrong time?" you ask him.
His cheeks reddened, embarrassed that you left him dazed just from your introduction alone.
"No no," he excuses then coughs to get a grip on himself, "I apologize. I must have been tired from all the work this morning."
You give him an understanding smile and reply, "No apologies needed, your majesty. I feel honored to be here and see how hard you work. I'm sure this kingdom is grateful to have such a diligent King."
His blush intensifies from your non-stop flattery. He's heard many compliments in his life for his achievements. However, when you were the one saying those words. He can't help but believe it was all true with how genuine you sounded.
"Please, I'm quite embarrassed to hear such words from you, Princess. I've heard many tales of your acts of charity for your and other neighboring kingdoms. You've paved the way for others to follow in your example and gave a chance for the poor, homeless and orphaned," he redirected trying to calm his flaring cheeks.
He was pleasantly surprised at your reaction.
"P-Please! You've heard of that? Oh, I'm embarrassed! I hope only good thing reached your ears," you stumbled over your words when the attention turned back to you.
He laughs at you as you tried to hide behind your hair as you also flushed red. 'For someone, who gives out so many compliments. She can't even handle a couple of her own.'
'This wasn't such a bad idea,' he thought as he watched as you smile and continue talking to him.
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"(Y/n), can I ask you something?" he says sitting at the edge of the bed where you sat beside while reading a book.
It had been several weeks since your marriage and it's been quite busy for the both of you as you adjusted to your married life. Lucifer finished paperwork for his projects and formal preparations for your ascension to your rights as the new Queen. Thankfully, it had finally calmed down and now you helped him with his work and even the inner management of the castle.
You have shared the room since the beginning, and you've already shared your first night as husband and wife together. Which was.. quite passionate to say the least. But, after both of you would wake up earlier or later than the other, too considerate to wake up the other from their well-earned rest. So, now that it has finally calmed down and Lucifer approached you. You couldn't help but feel nervous.
"Of course, anything," you reply putting away the book and taking his hand in yours.
He smiles and gains courage as he caresses your hand back and says, "Are you okay with this arrangement?"
You tilt your head unsure of the meaning, "About what?"
"This," he gestures to the both of you, "are you okay about our marriage?"
You huff out a laugh relieved, you thought it was a life or death situation, "Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"
He shrugs and replies, "I don't know. I just thought you were having doubts about us."
You give him a meaningful look and stood up from your spot. You then tugged him to stand with you. You made him hold your waist and hand while you placed yours on his shoulder. You led him into a slow dance with a smile on your face.
"Remember, our dance together?" you asked.
"At the wedding?" he asks.
You shook your head and laughed, "We danced one together way before that. That night where we shared the stars together."
His eyes lit up, remembering that night.
"During that dance, I thought that being with you will be worthwhile. And if wherever this choice leads me. I won't regret being with you, Lucifer," you say with a deep look in your eyes.
His eyes soften as he gazed at you. You were nothing but wonderful to him, it was childish of him to assume you were having doubts. He should have trusted you and made you happy instead. You deserve nothing less than that.
"Can we become more Than half of a union we're chosen for?"
He sings as he pulls you closer to him.
"Where I am your best half And I am yours,"
You continue with a huge smile on your face as you followed his lead, gliding around the room.
"Stuck here forever And hopefully not ending in estrangement,"
You sang together faces inching towards each other with half lidded eyes.
"Can mine become yours Combining our dreams Without keeping score?"
You twirled around the room with him catching you. He opens the door and leads you out into the halls where you continued your dance.
"Always together, but never bored No choice in the matter but This will never work without each other,"
The both of you laugh like children as you chased each other down the halls.
"Can we become we? (Can we become we?) Start a new line on this family tree,"
He catches up to you and lifts you off the ground and kisses your cheek with a hearty chuckle from your deviousness.
"Two hearts connected by one beat, Your hand in mine and,"
You beam him a smile as you placed your hands on his chest feeling the rhythmic thumping of his heart from chasing you around.
"I could never choose to love another," Lucifer whispers as he pulls you into a kiss which you return with fervor.
After minutes of kissing one another, he places you down and hold your waist as places another kiss on your temple with a beaming smile. You return it and let him lead you back to your room.
"Maybe one day I can learn to love you, too," you whisper as you gave a passing gaze at the portrait of a blonde woman with her face covered with a large cloth.
Other Lucifer Fics:
@bonnie-02 @marxo5 @whaatttlaufey @froggybich @rybunnie @midorichoco @bontensbabygirl @janey @akiqvq @wonderlandangelsposts @spoiled-slutt @preciousbabypeter @roboticsuccubus83 @simbalioness @reachthestars @atlas-rin @manachpo@luc1fersducky @lovestruck-enby @azullynxx @delightedtosee @cherry-4200 @aria-tempest @lvstyangel @0strawberrysorbet0 @corvid007 @kaminarithebest @whydosnakesnotdance @psychoanalyze0 @sweetadonisbutbetter @lunalily19 @dionysusismypatrongod @skyeliteratures @sappire904
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muntitled · 8 months
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𝙃𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙬𝙞𝙛𝙚'𝙨 𝙇𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩
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Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader
Summary: Pregnancy definitely sucks but you take your complaints too far, and soon, you're left with the laborious task of making it up to Satoru
Warnings: Domestic Fluff, Petty!Satoru, Tantrums, God Complex (It's Satoru), Humor, Smut (+18) Minors DNI, Praise Kink, Make up sex, Pregnant sex, Office Sex, Touch starved!reader, DDLG, Daddy Kink, Corruption Kink, Eye Contact, Dirty Talk, Cervix fucking, Lactation kink, Dom/Sub undertones, Subspace, Overstimulation
♡ please excuse me, I'm ovulating
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"Is there any way I could park closer? So that your journey might be a quicker one?" Despite his voice dripping with nothing but kindness, you find your eyes narrowing at the taxi driver and his close cropped, black hair.
"I may look fat but my limbs are in perfect working conditions, Sir, I assure you," Admittedly, a low blow. The driver reels back, muttering his profuse apologies which immediately softens your resolve.
It is wholeheartedly unfair. The driver could not anticipate the way in which his words would grate at your wavering kindness. He is essentially blameless and perhaps even considerate in his line of questioning. He didn't have any intentions of insulting you.
After all, It was not his fault that you were currently sporting a nasty bump because Satoru decided to inject you with his release until finally he succeeded and you were burdened with the weight of his spawned and this baby, you feel, is a heavy one. One that has your steel emotions melting into guilt, like the deserted tar under the bright summer sun.
"Just here, should be fine," The taxi driver had gotten an impressive tip to make up for your rudeness and you scooted your way out. Soon, you were on the pavement that led into the forest framed by an impressively maintained torii. The driver eyed the gateway solemnly as you shrugged your backpack on, subconsciously grateful for the sundress combatting the summer heat.
"Have a nice day!" You attempt to soften your voice, as soft as you can make it given your current condition.
Condition.
The thought - that word- has you flinching as you make your way up the mountain. The very reason for this journey playing off in your mind's eye with a freshness.
'Condition?' Satoru, had said when you let the word slip the previous evening. The taxi driver had not been the only one affected by your foul mood but last night you were particularly nasty. Gojo's spawn was on a mission to drain you of all your energy, leeching off your nutrients but expecting you to eat at every hour. The Little Monster was testing your patience and it wasn't even born yet.
'You're having my baby,' Gojo had said, 'Not suffering from a disease.' As you both prepared for bed, Gojo, exchanging his black blindfold for the fluffy pink sleep mask which he had invariably stolen from you, while you wobbled your heaviness into bed.
"Trust me, Satoru, when I say that you honestly could have fooled me.' You scoffed, "This baby is making me sick." It had been more and more difficult to disguise the true nature of pregnancy, especially while everyone around lived their lives so carefree and un-pregnant- but you still should not have said what you said. And Satoru was 100% justified in assuming a tantrum.
You were forced to go to bed, with an ice cold, Satoru, refusing to curl up beside you like he usually did. Instead of brushing up behind you, ready to allay that constant state of need that you were haunted by, Gojo stole his warmth away from you. You went to bed without the sensation of his cock grinding into your ass and his long slender fingers seeking to touch anything and everything until he riled himself up enough to fuck you to sleep. When you thought it couldn't possibly get any worse, Satoru had already disappeared in the morning. He had already gone off to Jujutsu Tech, vehemently ignoring any text message you sent.
And here you were, lumbering your way through the thicket of evergreens that seemed to be growing on top of each other. You would not be surprised if these trees ended up being cursed as well. They invariably seemed to swallow the horizon, doing a stellar job at concealing the beauty of the institution inside.
"Your father hates me," The tiny human incubating inside of you is your only bit of company, and so, you decide to entertain the Little Monster, the closer you get to Jujutsu High. "You're a little demon, but he is too." Your heavy breathing fills the quiet air, "But I still love him and his demonic ways so that really means that I love you too," Unknowingly, your hand had begun to cup the underside of your swollen belly and staying there for the duration of the walk, until the very first towers began to peek from within the evergreens and the sound of jovial laughter reaches your ears.
"Woah-" Itadori is the first person you see once you emerge from the thicket, huffing and puffing with the Wright of your guilt carrying you forward. "Are you... supposed to be here?"
"I'm pregnant, Yuuji, not handicapped-" You began, steadily approaching the temple steps where he and a silent Megumi sat idly. "Gojo, where is he?"
"In his office by now." Replied Itadori, "Hey… did you seriously walk up the mountain just to get some from Gojo-" his crass statement is cut short by Megumi's elbow buried in Yuuji's side and you silently thank the dark haired boy as you drift into the temple.
Despite it all, Itadori's statement may have held a sliver of truth. The walk up the mountain had been a perilous one, admittedly one of your less than thorough ideas, but it also got you the opportunity to see Jujutsu High after 6 difficult months of house arrest. Your innate need to teach and help young sorcerers grow and develop their talents was being made dormant, yet somehow, just being in this place, breathing its air, was revitalising you. You could even swear the Little Monster made a happy little kick against your abdomen. You begin to wonder with shocking excitement what cursed technique this baby would be born with - it's a thought that occupies your mind as you maneuver the relaxing halls of the temple.
The positive energy coursing through your bloodstream only doubles once his door reveals itself at the end of the hall. Your nerves are immediately electrified with a violent current as you pull back the door, enough to slip inside. You could not go 24 hours without Satoru annoying you, and that was apparent. If that made you weak, then so be it.
"Satoru." Your voice comes out quieter than expected as you pull the door shut and turn to face the man seated behind his desk. His seat is reclined towards an open window casting an enchanting breeze, enough to lightly ruffle his pale, white locks. Arms support the back of his head, and his legs are perched on the desk. You can not see his eyes behind his rimless blue tinted shades. Your arrival announces rouses him, and immediately, you can tell you've disturbed him from a nap. Perhaps he did not get much sleep last night either…
"Hmm," Is the only sound he is able to make in the stretched silence, readjusting his position, striving to appear disinterested, "Didn't know they allowed murderers into Jujutsu Tech-"
"'Toru, you've probably killed more people than me,'' You say with a small smile as you venture to close the distance between you too. "And how am I a murderer?"
"You forcing yourself up this mountain makes me think you're trying to kill my baby." You can tell that he is still vehemently angry at you but his head ticks slightly to the side as you make your way behind his desk, pushing his feet off before easing onto it so you can sit opposite him.
"I brought salami sticks and a chicken sandwich," You ease the backpack off your shoulders, ignoring Satoru's head lazily draped on his hand. "You didn't eat breakfast this morning and I know your skinny ass is dying of hunger. You may not look like you eat alot but you and our baby are trying to kill me-"
To that, he had obviously chosen to respond with a crude and petty, 'That'd be my baby, you're referring to. Last I checked, to you, it's a cancer.'
"Satoru, I don't know what you want me to say-"
"I've got a pretty good idea of what I don't want you to say."
Your gaze lowers to your lap as your legs swing above the ground. It is always difficult seeing someone as jovial as Gojo, assume such a cold exterior, especially when it's not in his inherent nature.
"I really wish I can say I didn't mean it, 'Toru but I'm fucking drained," You laugh darkly, "I'm fat and ugly and I can't exercise because this baby hates when I move in a way it doesn't like - even getting up here fucking sucked, but the thought of seeing you kinda helped. Not to mention that fucking housewife next door and her perky tits and her tiny waist, and her non-fat ass-"
"Hey," Throughout the course of your hormonal rant, Satoru has felt himself slide his chair closer to you, until your mnees were directly in front of him. His arms fence you in, while he sat on the edge of his seat, "I love your fat ass, please don't ever diss her again."
His words have you laughing despite the thunderous emotions that had overtaken you just a moment ago. That may have been one of Satoru's many superpowers- allaying the darkened clouds with unexpected sunshine.
"Not to mention my feet hurt constantly, I'm horny all the time and I just wanna feel normal in my own skin. But I neglected your happiness in my own self pity and that's wrong and I'm sorry."
'Please fuck me and never, ever be mad at me again,' is what you would have liked to tack on at the end of that apology but you already felt as if you got enough words out. Truthfully, you really were sitting with a well of need between your legs- the warmth between your stomach only compounding given Gojo's proximity, which only becomes worse as he rises from his seat and slots himself between your legs. You shiver at the feeling of just having him near you.
"Does 'horny all the time' include' right now?" Another violent shiver wracked through your spine as Satoru eases a finger underneath your chin, raising your hooded eyes to his concealed ones. All you can do is nod as your fingers curl around the edge of the desk while your breathing picks up its pace.
"And you're never going to be a mean brat ever again," you're utterly mesmerised by Satoru's pillowy, pink lips crafting every word, so much so that you're unaware of his other hand rubbing along your exposed thigh.
"I'm going to have to hear words, baby." He teases lightly,"I'm going to have to hear that you were wrong," You're not sure what it is about the sing-song voice that has you slipping deep into subspace- perhaps it's the slight condescension sprinkled in with the tone one would use to scold a child. It completely breaks you every time.
Your lips curl downward into an involuntary pout as you say "I'll never be a mean brat to you ever again, Satoru-" a gasp races through your throat as his fingers brush against the damp fabric of your clothed, needy cunt. He is rubbing lightly, almost diabolically slow. Your eyebrows curve into needy crescents as you strive to open your legs wider, hoping his fingers might venture deeper.
"I might forgive you," his broad shoulders are hunched so his lips can reach your ears, "If you stop calling me Satoru and say what you really wanna say,"
He was baiting you for his own rush of pleasure shooting all his blood straight to his hardened cock. Satoru's pants were straining as you realised he needed you to slip into subspace as much as you did. His hand was brushing lightly at the fabric against your clit, but that is as far as he was willing to go. Your breathing is erratic as you attempt to thrust your hips into his hand but your stomach stops you from achieving a lot.
"I need you to fuck me, Daddy," The words drenched with the neediness in your voice is borderline pornopgraphic and it rips a wavering groan from within Gojo's chest.
"You're such a needy little slut, aren't you?" Satoru says now swimming in domspace, while he removes his hand from between your legs to quickly rid you of your sweat-drenched sundress.
"I need you so bad," you admit with an aching whimper as the soft wind rushes over your sensitive nipples. The second he sees them, Gojo's hands are clamped around your pillowy; swollen breasts, squeezing and prodding like a virgin who's never seen tits before.
"Fuck, baby, look at what you do to me," He releases a hoarse laugh as he clamps his other hand around your wrist, forcing your palm around his hard cock straining his pants. "Look at what the fuck you do to me," The both of you release a chorus of moans into the air- you, because his fingers were playing a dangerous game with your leaking nipples and Satoru, because he cannot refrain from grinding into your hand.
His glasses fog as he bends his head to watch beads of milk grow on the tips of your nipple before sliding down your torso with every squeeze.
"When did this start happening?" he asks through clenched teeth before rushing to exclaim, "You're so fucking hot- Fuck!"
"Last night- I wanted to tell you but-" You're immediately silenced by Satoru's lips crashing onto yours while he crowds you, pushing you down onto your back while the sound of his belt buckle echoes in the room. His mouth is absolutely restless as his tongue forces its way inside; eager to push itself against your tongue until you both are kissing each other with a tangle of spit. Your hands immediately find his hair and you pull at the strands as Satoru pulls you to the edge of his desk, pressing the tip of his cock against your entrance.
"You're such a soaked little girl, baby," his voice still condescending and airy, but it riles you up further until you push your hips towards him. "Does Daddy get you this worked up?"
"Yes! Only Daddy can make me feel this way-Just- Please!" Your cries are slotted in the base of your throat as the head of his cock begins to stretch your tense and tight walls. Without thinking, Satoru eases himself deeper, his hips unable to move at a steady pace now that he feels how wet and ready you are for him.
"You're taking your Daddy's cock like a good little girl, baby," his words have you arching off his desk while your eyes fight to stay open. You don't close them because Satoru likes to look at you when he fucks you and so, you fight your way back, until your eyes are pouring into his behind those dazzling shades. It takes everything in him not to cum on the spot, and his cock twitches inside you as he begins to set the pace.
"Oh fuck- Just look at you, Princess." You were fucking magnificent - skin glistening with sweat with a belly swollen with his seed. The image alone affects him more than he initially thought it would. Satoru had strived to get you pregnant because he knew he wanted you to birth his legacy, but the sight of your body naturally shifting to incubate his seed scarmbles the very workings of his brain If you weren't careful, you were going to stay pregnant, every other term.
"You're doing such a good job, Princess. Do you know how fucking beautiful you look?" you are utterly deranged with need, feeling all your sensibilities slip out of you as you're fighting to take even more of him impossibly deeper. His shades hide the true nature of his hooded, fucked out eyes. He's not sure what it is about it, but your eyes on him, watching him pound his cock into your slippery, tight pussy, has him rutting into you with desperation. He loves holding your attention in your most depraved moments - watching you stare up at him like he's a God while he's corrupting every sliver of your cute disposition.
He's pounding against your cervix now and it has your moans bleeding into whorish screams. All the while, Satoru does not silence you. He does not clamp his hand around your mouth, instead he affirms quite the opposite. "If you keep squeezing my cock like that I'm going to make you take my cum." That sentence alone has you slipping into your orgasm. Your back arches off the table and Satoru leans over and latches his lips onto your breasts. He moans around your nipple, as his hand rubs your clit with immense rapidity, in tandem with his stuttering hips.
"I'm gonna fucking cum inside you, baby, Tell me you want me to cum inside you," his voice cracks into a desperate whimper, "P-please," Your limbs are shivering as Satoru fucks you quicker, the sensation bleeding into overstimulation as you watch him fall apart over you. He looks utterly gorgeous. The shades may hide his eyes, but his slacked jaw reveals how utterly destroyed he is, with a trail of spit and milk running down his chin. "Fucking tell me!"
"Please cum inside me, Daddy." You pant, looking at him dead in the eyes, "I need your cum inside me," his grip on the desk fumbles and his movements immediately melt into sloppy thrusts and heavy pants.
"Oh fuck- I'm cumming, baby. Fuck, M'gonna fucking breed you-" just as you're forced to endure another orgasm, Satoru's cum explodes inside of you, ripping groan from your hoarse throat.
Gojo is absolutely spent as he eases his cock out of you, rubbing light circles on your thighs, utterly transfixed with the sight of his milky cum slipping out of your cunt.
"I hope I get you pregnant with twins, next time,"
"Get the fuck off of me Satoru." You say feigning anger, which is attested by the smile threatening to blossom over your face. Despite your lightened mood, you still feel monumentally terrible for making him feel bad about your impending parenthood.
"I'm sorry I've been complaining about my house arrest."
"Maternity leave," He corrects with a sigh.
"Same difference," you roll your eyes before noticing his unimpressed and stoic visage. "Only kidding, only kidding."
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Thx for reading ♡
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pityslash · 8 months
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eye for an eye.
rain beat against the windows of your home, rattling glass and you always wondered what you’d do if a storm broke through. you really should have gone grocery shopping last week. what day was it?
the weekend. bless all might, it goes by so fast. the sun had started to set and you hadn’t thought about dinner. your friend's birthday is next month, maybe you should start picking out a gift?
your screen lights up and you realize your phone has timed out. there’s new messages from the group chat, mentions from multiple people you didn’t know.
[6:03PM pinky sent a message: ONGG guys have you seen bakugo’s post????????]
your interest was piqued, katsuki? that must mean he was finally back from the mission overseas. he was never one for social media, he goes offline months at a time and was always the last to know of articles or trends— being in the public eye was exhausting.
[red riot sent a message: haha mina you’re always the first one to see
pinky: DUHHHH HE
pinky: HE VANISHES OFF THE FACE OF THE EARTH IM SHOCKED HE POSTED RN
pinky: i SCREENSHOTTED IT Y/N WAKE UP YOUR MAN POSTED AND UR SO CUTE IN IT]
you left the chat on seen, checking his profile and there you find a new photo on his page. the caption was nothing but a single emoji, and you feel butterflies in your stomach the more you scroll through the photos, all but the last slide being him and random pictures with izuku and shoto.
no, the last one was you. a muted video from the last date you two went on, almost a month ago. you were busy slurping your favorite ramen and bakugo’s face was hardly visible, but from his eyes everyone and their mother could tell he was grinning.
your face is red as it plays once more, that bastard.
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“babe, look.” your mouth is wide open when you look over, just to see yourself with that goddamn record button taunting your very existence. he lets out a laugh, brash and so recognizable throughout japan. “katsuki stop—!?”
the mighty hero throws an arm around your neck, heavy on your shoulders. so he pulls you closer, the smell of black pepper strong, and he gives you a big kiss on the lips. “nah, gotta show the world.”
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liked by notalienqueen and 4,735,082 others greatexplosionmurdergo ☹️
“i’m home.” his voice was loud, but so different from how he was on live television. he always acted differently around you. you turn around, throw your phone onto the small table and see katsuki standing at the door, soaking wet.
he struggles to take off his boots. “oh my god.” you said. “i just mopped the floor this morning.”
but you can’t dwell on it when he’s finally back. “welcome home,” so you reach for his shoulders, leaning up to kiss the scar across his cheek to his jaw, skin sunken but it healed just fine, something you were more than grateful for. “i missed you, beautiful.”
katsuki returns the favor, eyes heavy and muscles sore. he lets out a deep breath, “gon’ shower.”
“okay..” the hero was already peeling his uniform off, dragging his feet to the bedroom.
birthmarks you’ve memorized dotted his arms and shoulders, and you catch the largest scar uncomfortably on his spine— “.. wash up and then you can tell me everything, i’ll warm up leftovers! your favorite.”
katsuki acknowledges with a hum and you’re left alone in the living room, heeding for the sound of running water.
[maincharacteryn added to their story.]
1K notes · View notes
roosterr · 8 months
Text
only you
note: him. that is all.
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pairing: kyle 'gaz' garrick x gn!reader
wc: 1.8k
summary: you and soap get to talking about your love life. gaz gets jealous.
warnings: little bit of miscommunication, jealousy, you and gaz make out, the mildest of spice
ao3
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sleepless nights were not a rarity for you. it comes with the territory in this line of work, unfortunately, something you and your fellow sergeants have in common. it also wasn't out of place for the three of you to find each other in the rec room well into the early hours of the morning, which is exactly where you'd ended up tonight.
perhaps it was the result of the insomnia that had kept you up far later than your mind could handle, but you'd foolishly divulged that you hadn't been on an actual date in a depressingly long time – soap seemed to find that far more amusing than you would've liked, and quickly took it upon himself to demonstrate his unique ability to make you wish you'd kept your mouth shut.
"c'mon, you cannae be serious," soap wears a shit-eating grin as he leans forward in the armchair, leaning his elbows on his knees as you roll your eyes. gaz stays quiet beside you, which you're silently grateful for, but you do feel his eyes on the side of your head.
"i just don't have the time for it," you sigh, resting your elbow on the arm of the sofa and dropping your hand into your palm.
it's true, your job didn't allow room for much of a social life, what with being sent all over the world for months at a time– really, it was a miracle you did anything except work.
that wasn't the main reason, he was sitting on your other side, but you'd be damned before you revealed that to soap,  of all people.
"well, if you can't get any, then there's nae hope for the rest of us." soap chuckles, reaching over and playfully nudging your arm.
you let out a groan, shoving his hand away and dragging your own down your face. "shut up, soap, that's not how it is…"
he laughs again at your reaction, still showing no signs of relenting. "maybe i'll have to take you out, then."
"on what? a pipe-bomb masterclass?" you scoff, the grin on your lips betraying your attempt at looking unimpressed. both of them laugh at that, soap raising his hands in a gesture that says 'so what?'.
"dinnae try'n tell me that wouldn't be an excitin' date." he reasons, tilting his head and quirking his brow at you. you narrow your eyes, humming in faux-consideration and playfully tapping a finger on your chin.
"for a pyromaniac, maybe…" gaz grumbles from beside you. the sofa moves under you as he shifts his weight around, and if you weren't so tired you would've noticed the way his voice trailed off in such an uncharacteristic manner.
"maybe," you laugh, shaking your head at the very idea of it, and the fact that soap definitely would if he could convince someone to go along with it. "that's if i don't wind up dead by the end of it."
"i wouldn't let anythin' happen to ya, bonnie, cross my heart." he grins, making an x over his chest with one finger.
"but you'd still make a homemade bomb right in front of me?" you lift an eyebrow at his teasing expression.
"my two favourite things; a good explosive  and a good view,"
"oh god, shut the fuck up." you groan, reaching to swat the back of his head as you stand up. "that's enough for tonight, i need sleep."
"think i'll call it a night too." gaz mumbles half-heartedly from his spot beside you, quickly standing and making his way to the door without another word. you frown, confused by his sudden coldness, waving to soap and calling a quiet 'goodnight' before you step out into the hallway after him.
"night, bonnie, i'll pick you up at eight!" soap calls, loud enough for you to hear in the corridor, earning a soft chuckle and another shake of your head as you catch up to gaz.
he doesn’t even spare you a glance as you trail behind him, marching ahead with a tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there before. his abrupt switch in attitude concerned you; he was fine not even five minutes ago, what could’ve happened to change that? 
"you okay, gaz?" you ask with a hesitance that feels strange directed at him, someone you’re usually so confident around. for a moment there's no response, but he does slow down slightly, taking a right into a corner of the building with the lights shut off. you follow still, growing more concerned with every second that passes.
you’re about to ask again, but a few paces into the shadows gaz turns sharply on his heel, catching you off guard with how suddenly he stops walking and causing you to bump into his chest. 
"gaz…?" you utter, your quiet voice a ripple in the stillness of the empty corridor. he meets your eye as you look quizzically back at him, a conflicted expression taking over his features.
you open your mouth to say something more, but before you can get the words out he's laying a hand on your shoulder and gently pushing you against the wall. the hand on you shifts to rest in the crook of your neck and shoulder, while he leans the other on the wall with his hand next to your head.
your breath catches in your throat, and your previous exhaustion is completely forgotten. the way he's looking at you, staring straight through you with that deep brown gaze and right into your soul, it's like a spell has fallen over you.
kyle leans even closer, caging you in with his broad shoulders and blocking out the world around him, so he's the only thing you can focus on– as if you could possibly think about anything else when he's touching you so tenderly.
"don't go out with him…" he utters, his eyes flickering back and forth as they search yours. the pause between you hangs heavy in the air. when your questioning expression doesn't change, he takes his bottom lip between his teeth and drops his gaze, letting his eyes fall shut as he continues. "don't fuckin' go out with him, please…"
"wh…" you stutter, trailing off as you wonder inwardly what the hell he's talking about; and then it hits you.
there's another pause, and you swallow thickly at the realisation that he was talking about your earlier conversation with soap; that he was reacting like this because he thought you would actually take johnny seriously. "kyle… he was joking."
"i'm not." he mutters in response, shifting closer again by resting his forearm against the wall instead of his hand. he's looking at you again, with heavy eyes that keep you entranced by him. you can't help the uneven breath that escapes you under his intense gaze and the way his thumb begins to stroke your jaw. "let me take you out, i'll give you anything you want if you'll have me, love."
it's hard to concentrate on anything other than the sparks his touch creates as he caresses your skin. you're sure he can feel the way your pulse is racing under his fingertips. there's no one but him in this moment, the minimal distance between you still somehow feeling too great as you subconsciously lean your face closer to his.
the silence and your heartbeat are so loud in your ears, you almost don’t hear his next words.
"can i kiss you?" he asks, little more than a whisper, tilting his head so his lips ghost over yours. you breath another shuddering sigh, letting your eyes flutter closed as you nod almost imperceptibly.
"please."
time seems to slow as the word hangs in the air, the warmth radiating from him seeps into your skin as he closes the final distance and presses his lips against yours.
the hand on your neck travels up to your face, cradling your cheek with a touch so soft, almost disbelieving, like he expected you to disappear at any moment.
"i'm yours, love," he mumbles against you, never straying too far from your lips as he caresses your cheek, "i'm all yours…"
you loop your arms around his neck, knocking his hat loose in the process, but neither of you pay it any mind as it lands on the floor at your feet – too lost in yourselves to care. in the brief moment you part for air, a breathy whisper of his name escapes you, and as if a switch has flipped, his mouth is back against yours with a fervour that you struggle to keep up with.
he's running his hand up and down the length of your waist, your hip, hiking your leg up and around his side, dragging his touch over your thigh, like he can't get enough of you. it's intoxicating, the way you pant into each other, flush against one another yet still itching to get closer.
your lungs burn as he pulls away again, just enough to whisper, his voice low and needy, "god– the things you do to me, sweetheart,"
his touch is reverent as he takes you in; your touch, your skin, your taste, the sounds he pulls from you as he kneads the flesh of your waist under your shirt. it sends your head spinning, the blood rushing in your ears stopping you from thinking about anything other than the feel of his lips on yours.
you trail one of your hands down his body, over his chest and down to the hem of his shirt, where you slip your fingers under to rest against his toned stomach. his skin is hot under your hand, drawing another groan of your name from him, and he slowly moves his hands up your own abdomen, leaving a trail of goosebumps in the wake of his fingers–
"awh, c'mon!"
the sound of soap's voice startles you into knocking your head against the wall behind you, both yours and kyle's hands darting back from their less than appropriate positions.
you look over to the scott, a sheepish grin on your face at his disapproving face. kyle buries his face into your shoulder, a groan of both embarrassment and annoyance escaping his chest. you resist the urge to laugh, instead running your hands up and down his back in an attempt to comfort him.
"fucks sake, soap…" kyle grumbles, wrapping his arms back around your waist. he doesn't look up at your friend, opting to keep his undoubtedly embarrassed expression hidden by your neck.
"think i'll have to cancel that date after all." you cant keep the amusement off your face when you speak, earning a dramatic eye roll from soap.
"too right, ye animals…" he mutters, shaking his head in exasperation as he disappears around the corner again. neither of you move as you listen to his footsteps retreating down the corridor, staying frozen in place until it's quiet once more.
only once you're sure johnny's gone does the laugh you've been stifling bubble up from your chest, escaping into the otherwise quiet night as kyle finally lifts his head to meet your gaze.
he eyes the bashful smile pulling at your lips and lets out a laugh of his own, pressing his forehead back to yours and letting his eyes fall closed again.
killing soap could wait until tomorrow; right now, it was just you and him, and that's how you want to keep it.
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lowkeyerror · 1 month
Text
The Family Business Ch. 9
WandaNat x Reader
Word count: 2.5k
Ch.Notes: emotional turmoil, jealousy
Summary: After last night's events things only grow more complicated between Wanda, Natasha, and the reader.
An: So... I have blown through all of the pre-drafted parts I have for this and am now writing in real time the goal is to do post every monday but bare with me if I slip up.
Series Masterlist | Masterlist
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The smell of coffee is the first thing to enter your sense as you stir from your place in the bed. You can't move much as your legs are tangled with someone else’s. You can feel soft breaths tickling your face. Your brow creases, but you make no other movements.
There’s a slight shift in the bed, and that's when you begin to feel a finger dragging itself along your collarbone. It’s gentle as it draws patterns lightly tracing up your neck and jaw. A thumb ghosts over your lips, but you stay still.
“Even after this life has been so cruel to you, and you've grown this hard outer shell; your skin feels so soft. So pretty under my touch.”
You are fully awake, but something stops you from opening your eyes. Instead you scoot closer to the woman and pull her body closer to yours. Your arm flexes as you hold her in place.
“Enjoying the cuddling?” Natasha’s voice enters the room.
“She’s so peaceful like this, I don’t want to wake her,” Wanda shifts in your hold.
She maneuvers so that she's sitting up right in the bed. Your head falls into her lap, and her hands start running through your hair.
“We have to, I’ve heard from Pietro that people are already being made aware of the oil spill. They’re scrambling, he’s already at the office with Kate taking orders.”
You hear Wanda sigh, “This is nice, it almost feels domestic.”
Natasha laughs lightly, “Yes, having your wife bring you and your lover coffee, screams domestic.”
“She’s not my lover, Natasha,” Wanda’s voice sounds harsh.
It takes everything to keep your body from tensing as you listen into this conversation you aren't directly involved in.
“It’s a joke baby,” you can almost hear the smirk on the woman’s face.
“Jokes are supposed to be funny Natasha,” she deadpans.
“I agree there's nothing funny about you being in love with Y/n.”
You hear shuffling and then a quick thud as Wanda throws something at Natasha. By her exasperated sigh you can tell Natasha caught it.
“Can we save this discussion for… I don’t know, when Y/n isn’t laying in my lap,” Wanda says defensively.
“Fine, but the last thing I’m going to say is your taste in women is 10 out of 10,” Natasha chuckles.
“Fuck you,” Wanda can’t help but laugh as her wife exits the room.
Wanda refocus her attention back to you, “We have a big day ahead of us little krolik and unfortunately it starts now.”
She shakes you gently and calls your name a few times. You pretend to wake up. The sight of Wanda in the morning is something entirely ethereal. You can’t help but stare at the woman. Especially after what you heard this morning.
Your intense gaze makes the woman shift and clear her throat, “Natasha made coffee for us.”
You laugh a little, your voice groggy from sleep, “Sounds like a good thing to wake up too.”
“It can’t hurt, we have a busy day ahead of us,” she says getting out of the bed.
“Your bed is like 10 times more comfortable than mine,” you sink further into the mattress.
Natasha enters the room, “Glad to hear you slept well.”
There’s something grateful about the look you give the spy, “Thank you for that. Both of you.”
“The door is always open for you lisichka,” Natasha smiles warmly back.
With much reluctance you get out of the bed. Your feet shuffle across the bedroom floor and you scratch your head, suddenly becoming more aware of the fact that you aren’t in your home.
“I guess I should go get ready at my place,” you say stretching.
“We’ll meet you over there and head to work together, ok?”
You agree to these terms and make your way home. When you get there the composure that you usually carry yourself with slips.
The brief conversation that played out between the married couple echoed in the walls of your mind. It was a joke, that’s what Natasha said in the beginning. However after claiming Wanda was in love with you, it didn't sound like a joke anymore.
Wanda is a married woman. You know this and you’d feel confident in saying that the marriage is a happy one. Natasha is good for her, better than you could ever be. Wanda being in love with you wouldn’t make sense.
As you get ready for work it’s nearly all you can think about. Every moment where you hugged each other for too long, where her hand would find it’s way in yours, where the two of refused to break eye contact was now floating in your head.
It was hard not to romanticize it, you had feelings for Wanda since you were a teenager, and now you are being told she feels the same.
It's a heavy feeling that sits in your stomach. Every part of your being wishes it could be joy, but it’s sorrow and dread. The other accompanying thought with this revelation is, Natasha.
The woman was amazing in her own right. She deserves the same love, attention, and kindness that Wanda does. You refuse to be a home wrecker. Their love it’s organic, it’s feels true. It was enough for Wanda to bring home a wife, knowing her family wouldn’t approve. There wasn’t a reality where you’d let her throw that away.
Your thoughts don’t get to consume you any longer when the doorbell rings. You put on a face of determination as you leave your home with Wanda and Natasha.
Once you’re at the office everything seems more hectic than usual. The three of you are all whisked away in different directions, answering to the influx of calls.
The sheer volume of people you have on your line, startles you a bit as initially you thought this would be enhance the unlawful business practices, but it has also benefited the business used as a front.
This might’ve been a million dollar move. However, it truly wasn’t about the money. The supply for the family was endless. It was to regain control of the city and to assure them whether Dragos was in charge or not the Maximoff’s would be running this city.
The victory is bittersweet as thoughts of Dragos invade your mind. He should be here celebrating with you all yet he lay still in a hospital bed, using machines you couldn’t name to help him breathe. With Flora likely sitting there with him, tremendous sorrow on her shoulders and the wish that he would wake up so she could scold him.
There were bigger things to worry about aside from what you had heard this morning. The health of your father figure, the health of the business, preparing for a war, there was no room for your feelings right now and you accepted it.
“Alright, it’s time for you to go on break,” Kate knocks on your office door before allowing herself in.
“Too busy,” you mumble typing away at your computer.
“I brought you lunch, meaning you have to atop working to eat it,” Kate plops down a bag on your desk.
The smell fills your nose, making your mouth water and stomach growl. You sigh moving your keyboard out of the way to open the bag of food.
“Thanks Katie,” you say before munching on a french-fry.
“No problem, how are you holding up?”
You stretch a bit, “It’s been nonstop in both businesses. I’ve got to be careful not to mix them up as I write the orders. I’m a bit stressed, but I think this is a good stress.”
“And outside of work?”
Your face drops, “I’m barely holding on to be honest. Constantly worried about Dragos, but not just him; Flora, Wanda, Pietro, all of them. I feel so helpless, I haven’t felt this way since I was a child.”
“Y/n-”
“I feel like I’m failing, Kate. We’re fighting against a war, but it’s inevitable at this point. There’s no way Kingpin is going to take this lying down. We can’t afford to lose, but I don’t think any of us are prepared to fight.”
Kate takes your hand in hers causing you to gaze into her eyes. There’s a fire there, one that you forgotten lived inside the assistant.
“Y/n, whatever happens this family will not fall. Others might have alliances, weapons, and political power, but what every single one of them lacks is loyalty. We have people on the outside switch sides, but everyone in this building is here for the long haul. We stand by each other no matter how hard it gets. Maybe you’re right, we’re not prepared for a war right now, but we will be. You aren’t alone in this Y/n, you have a family… thee family backing you.”
She’s right and you know it. It’s a hard a reality to swallow in the sense that with or with Dragos the Maximoff’s don’t have a choice but to win. They will win, but what will be lost on the way to victory. The longer you’re in the position you understand what they mean when they say heavy is the head that wears the crown.
“Something else is bothering you. I can tell,” Kate’s voice is soft when she speaks, snapping you from your thoughts.
You can feel the tip of your ears heat at her question, but you try to play it safe, “It isn’t important and I don’t think it will ever be. We have bigger things to worry about.”
Kate rolls her eyes at you, “You’re right about having bigger things to worry about. Things that you are clearly being distracted from by what’s on your mind. So as your best friend it’s my job to sit here and press you for answers until you tell me.”
It's your turn to roll your eyes, “Can we just drop this, my food is getting cold?”
“There’s a microwave somewhere in this building,” Kate took a seat at the edge of your desk, her hand still in yours.
“You aren't going to let this go are you?”
She shakes her head a little, “Nope.”
You take your free hand and place it over your face, “I heard Natasha say that Wanda is in love with me.”
“Oh my god. Y/n that’s- what’re you going to do?”
“Nothing, I’m not going to do anything.”
Kate’s eyes widen, “Why would she say that? Did she sound mad? How did you hear this? What if she is in love with you? How would you-”
“Enough!” You raise you voice at the girl and she stops.
“Sorry, but this is crazy.”
You sigh, “I know.”
“Do you love her?”
Your eye hit the floor immediately, “I’ve had a crush on Wanda for as long as I can remember. She’s seen me at my lowest, but found value in me nonetheless. Even after all these years she just makes me feel safe and I would do anything for her.”
“But…”
“But she's married to one of the most intriguing women that I've ever met. Someone I know who feels like I do. Someone who takes good care of her and can be there for her in ways that I can’t. They’re the perfect couple. They both truly deserve each other and I refuse to put myself between them.”
It is fully intended to sound strong, but by the end of it you can feel your eyes start to water. You do your best to hold it in but tears start to fall.
“Fuck,” you attempt to cover your face but Kate just pulls you to her by your office chair.
Her hands rests on your face wiping at the tears. You lean into her touch as she begins to rub your back.
“It’s alright, you’re alright,” Kate speak gently.
There’s a soft knock on your office door that gets you to straighten up. The walls are glass so you’re aware that they could see what was transpiring.
“Is everything ok in here?” Natasha let’s herself in, knowing the answer to her question.
You look to Kate, who then looks to Natasha, “Do you want to take over?”
Natasha gives a curt nod. You watch Kate walk out of the office closing the curtains on the way out so no one could see inside. She tells you to call her at the end of your day and you make a mental note to do so.
“Lisichka, talk to me,” she takes Kates previous position. She reaches to wipe the tears from your eyes, but you flinch away.
“I’m fine,” your voice dies as you speak.
“I think we both know that’s not true.”
You glare at her, but then your eyes soften, “I’m just overwhelmed Nat.”
“Maybe it's your turn to go home early n" she suggest.
“I have to stop by the hospital before I go home.”
Natasha hesitates, “I don't think you're in the right space to be there.”
“Someone has to go check on Flora and Dragos,” you stand firm.
“Wanda and I will go,” Natasha says.
You debate for a second on telling Natasha what you heard. You wonder how she would react. However you could never do that to her , not like when she’s looking at you like this. This is the second time in 24 hours that Natasha has been there for you in a time of need.
“Lisichka?”
“I- I’ll see if Kate can take me home,” you abruptly stand from your desk.
You don’t get far before Natasha is wrapping you up in her arms. You melt in her hold, she smells good, her arms are strong. She kisses the top of your head.
“Let me know when you’re home safe, ok? We’ve got everything under control here.”
You nod before heading off in the direction of Kate’s office. When you get to her door she’s on call and you debate leaving, but when she sees you she ends the call.
“Y/n-"
“Can you take me home, please. I know I could ask Clint, but I just-”
Kate cuts you off, “Of course, let’s go.”
You stay close to Kate as you leave the office. Unbeknownst to you, Wanda watches the two of you exit. She heads to your office to find her wife in your chair.
“What happened to Y/n?”
Natasha sighs, “I don't know she wouldn't tell me. I saw Kate sitting on the desk and wiping her tears away so I stepped in. She said she was overwhelmed, but there had to be more to it. I told her to go home.”
“I just saw her leaving with Kate,” Wanda adds.
“She said she’d ask Kate to take her,” Natasha explains.
“I could've taken her,” Wanda says with worry in her voice.
Natasha shakes her head, “You have a business to run and I promised Y/n we’d stop by the hospital after work.”
“I wish she would’ve seen me before she left,” Wanda’s upset, but she contains it well.
“Jealous of Kate?” Natasha tries to tease, but there’s something in her tone that Wanda detects.
“Are you jealous of Kate?” Wanda throws the question back at her wife.
Natasha gaze lingers on her hands, “What if I was?”
Wanda carefully straddles Natasha’ lap in the work chair. She buries her head into the crook of Natasha’s neck before mumbling into the soft skin.
“Then we’d both be jealous.”
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privitivium · 3 months
Note
how about a really creepy bottom yandere?
fuck yeah. my random thoughts on this idea... roommates. cw;; perverted creepy ass freak, stalking, noncon - dubcon, ur drunk
actually imagining this mf leaving you creepy voicemails of him masturbating and whining out your name - muffled, sobbing as he cums and havjng no way to block him because you couldnt see his number. he so boldly applying to be your ... lil roommate,,, an introverted guy who you saw as a mere background dude who always dressed in dark colors - always wearing zip-up jackets too big for his tiny frame... must .. not think... him sabotaging everyone else somehow and managing to be the only one left. youre desperate - and somehow couldnt figure out where you recognized him from. his voice...
you, unwilling to actually make friends even though you knew he probably needed someone... but you just figured some creep like that would have a plethora of internet friends. no way you would be seen with someone like that. someone... who you catch staring at you in the corner of your eye., always fucking lurking!?!?! until, you were on the market for some help. a roommate... grumbling to yourself yet accepting him??? dude you must be fucking in love with him then...
dude immediately taking advantage of being your roommate bro. ,,, when ur gone and hes home, rooting through your things and being a mess with a throbbing aching cock with a huge smile and flushed face that burned with excitement. fucking freak.
ㅡcreepy yan roommate who shoves his fucking underwear in your pillowcase and you have to feel around wondering what the fuck is it and disturbing ur sleep and you pull it out just to see its a pair of fitted boxers damp with... you didnt want to think about it. merely throwing them away and not wanting to wonder who put them - it's fine, it's fineㅡseriously! no need to dwell on it; as you throw your pillowcase and ... pillow that was now dirty into a hamper.
you didnt know how the fuck to confront him and he abused that fact. acting so normal and nonchalant around him - knowing that its him. you must like it, huh?? you must if you're not making a big deal about it... giggling to himself, all giddy and shit...
ㅡburying his tearful, flushed visage into his pillow that had your shirt as the pillowcase; face down ass up,,, in nothing but his hoodie he's always seen wearing. fingering himself desperately; imagining you coming into his room and seeing the sight of his hole presented and mounting him wordlessly,,, filling him up with that thick cock he knows you has - catching a glimpse as you exited the shower dripping wet despite your clear attempts to dry yourself off...
nearly sobbing and whimpering please over and over again, mumbling your name so pitifully and trying hard to control his breathing as he edges his poor sensitive prick,,, fantasizing about you making him wear girl clothes and introduce him as your girlfriend to your other jock friends. yes,,, yessss,,, embarrass him and show him off that he's yours, he wants everyone to know that youre his t-too,,,. make him cum over n over again for your pleasure wherever you want - stuff a fucking vibrator in him and have it on full blast and laugh at him while he tries to walk in public,,,, gasping for air as he finally shoots his load onto a pair of your already dirty boxers he grabbed from the hamper...
then sleeping soundly. and waking up with a flushed prick waiting to be jerked off in the morning just because of his lovely dream of riding you in your bedroom,, he was so grateful for that dream,,, high pitched little noises leaving his saliva-slick plump lips as he grinds against his bedㅡ
ㅡand, at a party. you being invited - and inviting your introverted roommate who was more than happy to come along. you were really hoping he'd decline, but it is a courtesy to ask after telling him your plans you feel... he was a little out of place - a new face is all. his plain black hoodie and black skinny jeans matching the other aesthetics of other people - telling him that he can hold onto your shirt and let you lead him around to a little denser part of the frat house. fuck you just know you're gonna get taunted for bringing him... it's best to stay clear of those fucking blockheads instead. hanging out in the kitchen, surprising that it was the less populated area and taking advatange of that - merely hanging out before your thoughts seem to spring from your lips without permission-
ㅡ"y-ou know... y-you're just... so weird, man..." trying to keep your tone leveled with a humorous airy wisp to it - trying hard not to grimace or express any kind of repulsion by pressing your lips to the beer bottle you were nursingㅡbut he knew exactly what you were trying to say! getting all squirmy and fidgety as he tugs his hoodie down.
was he? was he a disgusting fucking freak? yes, tell him... tell him just how fucking awful he is, please. his smiling lips trembling, lifting his fingertips to his cheek that was burning to the touch - "am i? what... what do you mean weird?" he frowned, tilting his head slightly, playing innocent to your tipsy frame pressing against the doorway coolly... ugh, you didnt mean for it to come out cruelly... just - "weird in a good way, man. dont worry." you try to reassure... "you're weird in a cool way." you didnt want to deal with him crying. He seems the sensitive type... dont fucking look at me with those huge ass eyes you fucking creep look AWAY.
ㅡ"you're fucking gross, dude." yes, yes he is.. hes so icky-!! so horrible and awful!! his smaller frame pressed against the sink of the bathroom, your face nuzzled into the crook of his neck and he nearly cums right then and there - what has come over you? the scent of beer on your breath... it's ... gross but... it makes him ache. your lips so close to his - fuck just- please kiss him- shove your fucking tongue down his throat and make him chokeㅡ
ㅡhim trying to... take advantage of your drunken mind in a way... to get what he wants. hes so awful isnt he??? after asking you to go elsewhere, you mindlessly drag him along through the crowds by his sleeve making his poor lil heart flutter ... being pressed against each other and him delibrately pressing his plump ass into your groin and nearly whining as he feels the imprint of your soft cock against him - you stiffened, instinctively wrapping an arm around him to pull him to your side and he nearly whines.
before ... you were dragging him up the stairs and mumbling - he couldnt make it out but he was jittery - ecstatic for whatever reason. you were dragging him some place quieter and he couldnt help but think dirty,,,...
your thick arms wrapped around his body and caging him in,,, he can f-feel the poking of your erection against his front - and hes sure you feel his..,,,, turning him around and shucking his pants down - him squealing in shock but so willing?!? ruthlessly gliding your lazily slobbered over fingers around his rim - fingering him before shoving your dick where your fingers lay and ignoring his soft yelps of surprise after he makes no move to get away; only bending over and trying to spread himself...
fucking him in thr bathroom, rocking into his taut hole that was surprisingly easily to worm your way in - and muttering you know everything while pumping your slick fingers into his mouth dirty with his pre - muttering harshly about those dirty fucking voicemails and how creepy he is to leave his dirty boxers where you rest your head and making him fucking cry and shake his head in denial - he likes this sort of thing.,,, hes so in bliss, so fucking happy and rocking back into you bro,,, yes let him be as creepy as he pleads for you,,, whining on your digits after you pull his hands away from his cock with your free hand. fuck he'll take anything ,,,, freak.
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superhaught · 2 months
Text
Incurable Cravings (Chapter Three)
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Pairing: Regina George x Reader
Warnings: this chapter has it all, fluff, angst, and explicit smut (18+ MDNI)
Word Count: 2700, Part 3/?
Part 1 / Part 2
Regina and Reader continue their evening after school and get to enjoy some quality time together again after three years of complicated feelings.
Explicit Content Below!
You and Regina ate dinner with Gina’s mom. Regina did her best at eating a standard portion of food and you squeezed her hand reassuringly under the table, hoping to show her that you were proud. 
Ms. George asked you some more questions about school and your activities and it felt good to update her after going so long without being around the George house. 
Regina got up to clear her plate and asked her mom, “hey, can we have a sleepover? If that’s okay with you, obviously,” Regina added, directed at you. 
“Oh, of course honey! Whatever you want, as long as you can get up in time for school tomorrow. Actually, what am I saying? You’re seniors, I don't care if you go to school or not.”
You laughed and said, “I won’t let Gina ditch.”
Regina smiled at you, “so you’ll stay?”
You nod your head, “I just gotta let my mom know.”
You gave your mom a quick phone call on your way back up to Regina’s room and she was fine with you spending the night and grateful that you would have a ride to school in the morning, but was slightly judgemental that you were hanging out with Regina again. 
She just said, “be careful.” And you responded, “I know, I’ve got it.”
When you hung up your phone, Regina grabbed your arms and pushed you backwards toward her bed. The backs of your legs hit the edge of the mattress and you fell back into her cushy comforter. She followed your body as you scooched back into the middle of the bed and then crawled on top of you, straddling your stomach. 
“Well, hi…” you said, stupidly.
“You’re such a dork… I’m glad you’re staying over tonight. It’ll be just like old times. I’ll do your makeup, dress you up in my clothes, cuddle you while we watch a movie… except now it will be even better.”
“Better, how?”
“Because now I can do this,” Regina leaned down and kissed you passionately, putting her hands on your collarbones and sliding her tongue into your mouth. 
You moaned and kissed her back just as needily. You felt Regina begin to grind back and forth on your abdomen and you felt your head spin as you grabbed onto her hips and encouraged her. She continued to build up that heat and then she pulled away from your lips and you opened your eyes. You watched her flips all of her hair over to one side of her face and then she leaned down and kissed along your jawline and neck. 
You sighed and writhed underneath her. She whispered into your ear, “you’re mine, now… right, baby?”
You gasped at her words, “fuck… yes, Gina… I’m yours…”
“Just mine?” She kept kissing your neck, dragging her tongue along your skin and making you squirm with need.
“Only yours…”
“Good. You’re my perfect darling… and I’m your princess, just like you’ve always wanted, right?”
“Oh my god…” you breathed, “yes… Regina…”
She grazed her teeth along your pulse point and nipped at you lightly and your body jolted in response. 
“God, you’re so needy for me… You’re going to be a good little toy for me, aren’t you? Will you let me mark you up and claim you as my own, baby?”
You couldn’t speak. She knew all the right buttons with you. She knew exactly how to turn the tables and make you into a needy mess for her. You just moaned affirmatively and nodded your head.
“That’s good, baby… if you keep being good, I promise I’ll reward you, okay?” Regina started to bite and suck on your neck now, leaving a trail of red marks and then bruises as she traveled toward your shirt collar. She started to slide your shirt up your body and met your eyes, “can I take this off of you, my sweet baby?”
“Mhmm…” you nodded.
She finished taking your shirt all the way off and took a moment to admire your physique in your white sports bra, “you always had such a nice body…” she leaned down and started making marks all over your collarbones and the exposed areas of your chest. All you could do was make pleased noises and run your fingers through her hair, willingly accepting her treatment of you. 
She lowered herself further and marked up even your ribs and your abdomen, sinking her teeth into your skin to leave a painting of bite marks and bruises. She was absolutely intent on claiming you. 
After a while, she sat up and spoke gently, “I think you’ve been very good, don’t you?”
You met her eyes and nodded slowly. 
“I think you can have a little reward…” 
You watched as Regina got off of you and stood at the foot of her bed, “how about you hold yourself up on your elbows for me, baby?”
You nodded and propped yourself up the way she requested. Regina smirked and then started to lift the hem of her shirt up. The blonde then took her time to slowly strip naked in front of you, removing her articles of clothing one by one in a tantalizing manner. Your jaw dropped at the sight and Regina basked in your obvious admiration of her. 
She reached around her back and unclasped her bra and let it fall off of her arms onto the floor at her feet. You gazed at her nude torso and sighed happily, saying, “my god… you are so stunning, Regina.”
“I know,” she smirked and hooked her thumbs into the elastic waistband of her panties and slowly slid them down her thighs, her eyes following yours the entire time. 
Once she was stripped, she climbed back up onto the bed and straddled your thighs as she placed her fingertips against your sternum and slowly pushed you back down to lie flat.
Regina then moved forward until she was straddling your stomach one more and she slowly lowered her weight onto you until her sex landed right on your abdomen. 
“You feel that, baby? Feel how wet I am for you?”
You stared at her with wide eyes and then she started to move, rocking her hips and spreading her dripping arousal over your skin. You moaned and reached for her waist but she quickly batted your hands away with a smack to each one, “nuh uh, baby… I’m going to use you to take care of me… you just lie back and enjoy it for me, okay?”
You let your arms settle above your head and Regina leaned forward slightly, arching her back, to grab onto your wrists and hold your arms down, both to trap you and give herself something to hold onto as she began to ride your abs to her completion. 
You couldn’t believe what was happening but there she was, Regina Geroge, grinding her wet cunt against you like her life depended on it. She closed her eyes and threw her head back in pleasure as she increased her pace and gave herself exactly what she needed using your body. In nearly no time at all, Regina was a moaning, panting mess and beads of sweat were running down her forehead and temples from her effort, but she still firmly held you in place and didn’t let you take over for her. 
You watched in awe as her movements grew more and more erratic until her moans finally drew out into one long moan of pleasure and she came on your stomach with a shaking orgasm. She let your wrists go at that point, leaving behind bright red marks from where she was tightly gripping you, and then moved her hands to your chest to hold herself up while she rode her climax out until she was done.
Her thighs trembled on either side of you. You reached up and gently caressed the sides of her face with your thumbs and she smiled blissfully. Neither of you said anything as Regina slowly dismounted from you and shifted to lay on her side next to you, bringing an arm and leg over you and resting her head on your chest. 
You gently kissed the top of her head and wrapped your arms tightly around her and you whispered, “Holy shit, Regina…”
“Mmm… did I do a good job of rewarding you for being so good for me?”
“Yeah… yeah, you did Princess…”
She moaned, “oh that sounds so good coming out of your mouth…”
You smiled and kissed her again. You laid there in bliss together for a while until Regina suddenly sat up, apparently refreshed, and kissed your lips before getting out of the bed and walking over to her vanity to grab her makeup bag. 
She turned and playfully jostled the bag around with a giggle and you rolled your eyes, “Oh god…”
“I told you I was gonna make you over… just had to make you mine, first.”
Regina sat on top of you yet again and opened up her makeup bag on the bed. She started to dig through and began pulling things out that she wanted to use on you, getting adorably excited about certain products and saying things like, “ooh I haven’t even tried this one on myself, yet,” and “this is exactly your color oh my gosh it’s like I bought it for you.”
She applied god-knows-what to your face and occasionally tickled your nose with a makeup brush, making you giggle. You watched her get into hyper focus mode working on your face but you mistakenly tried to talk to her, “Wh-“ you began.
Regina grabbed your chin, cutting you off, “shh and stop moving!” 
You let her keep doing her work in silence.
“Close your eyes.”
You obliged her command and she started putting eyeliner on you carefully and gently. Regina brushed blush onto your cheeks, highlight onto your cheekbones, and mascara onto your eyelashes. She blew light breaths of air onto your face to disperse some loose powder or dry the setting spray and all of it felt intimate to you. It always had felt special when she had done this for you in the past but now she was literally naked, sitting on you, and putting lipgloss on you by transferring it from her lips to your own through a kiss. 
She got off of you and grabbed your hand, pulling you up and bringing you over to the mirror for you to see yourself, “what do you think?” 
The makeup was done with an expert hand and you did look very nice. But your smile was clearly forced. 
“You hate it…” 
“What? No I don’t, Regina. It’s really pretty.” 
She frowned and expected you to continue.
“Just… is this what you wish I looked like? Ya know, do you wish I was dolled up all the time like you?”
Regina grabbed your shoulders and turned you around to face her, “No! I think you’re absolutely perfect, I don’t want to change you. That’s not what this is about.”
“What is it about, then?” 
She thought for a moment, “lots of things. I enjoy doing it. Make up is one of my primary interests so I like sharing it with you. It’s an excuse to study your incredible face for a long time. And it’s a very sexy thing to do, especially when I’m naked.” She grinned at herself and you laughed. 
“I don’t want to change you, baby,” she continued, “it’s only meant to be fun and give you a chance to feel pretty, but if it doesn’t make you feel good then it’s not worth it.”
You looked back in the mirror at yourself, “I do feel pretty, Gina. Thank you. I especially like the eyeliner.” 
She bounced excitedly, “see how it makes your eyes so bright?” 
You smiled, “mmhmm.”
Regina stood behind you, wrapped her arms around you and planted kisses all over your cheeks and neck, leaving pink lipstick kiss marks all over your skin along with her array of hickeys from before. Your body was a map of where Regina had graced you with her lips, and you were overjoyed for it. 
“Now, go into my closet and give me a little fashion show, okay? I demand a three outfit minimum. If you do that, then you get your choice of my hoodies for bed tonight.” 
“Okay, Princess.” You agreed, “just, one thing first.”
“Yes?” 
You gently reached out and pointed to some of the scars on her body from the bus accident, “can I look at them?”
Regina sighed and frowned slightly, but she nodded her head. 
You carefully traced the scars with your fingertips. She turned slightly so that you could see the ones on her back closely. She pulled her hair over one shoulder and you traced the long surgical scar that went down her spine.
“I try to pretend that they’re not there… that  nothing has changed… but then I start to hurt everywhere or I pass out from being upright for too long… and I remember…”
“Gina…” you sighed. You didn’t know what you could say. You felt awful that she had to go through that, and that no one really knew the burden she was shouldering every day since the accident. You also felt an unshakeable guilt knowing that she went through her recovery all alone. You hadn’t been there for her. 
“I'm so fucking terrified of getting worse…” she whispered.
“You have to do what you can to take care of yourself, but I think you also have to recognize that some things are going to be out of your control… but being in pain, or being ill… it doesn’t make you any less… it doesn’t… I… I’m sorry, I don’t know what I’m saying…”
Regina had tears in her eyes, “no, what were you going to say?”
“I was going to say… it doesn’t make me love you any less, Gina…”
The blonde sniffled and wiped her nose on the back of her hand, tears fell down her cheeks at your confession. 
“You love me?” she asked. 
“I do… I love you…”
“You almost said it earlier, didn’t you?”
“Yes, almost…”
“Have you always loved me?”
You looked into her eyes and caressed her cheeks, wiping her tears away with your thumbs. You nodded, “always… I just didn’t know how to say it…”
Regina nodded and put her hand over yours, holding your palm against her cheek, “I didn’t know how to say it, either… and maybe I still don’t…”
“It’s okay,” you whispered.
“Am I… am I enough for you? Until I learn how to say it? And how to really show you? Can you feel it?”
You began to cry at that and you nodded emphatically, “you are saying it… and I can feel it…”
“You can feel that my heart is yours?”
You nod again, "I can, Gina..."
She buries her fingers into your hair and pulls your head to her shoulder then embraces you. You hold each other close for a while, both crying tears that had been trapped for a long time. 
Regina started to feel weak from standing and she tapped you, “I need to lie down.”
You nodded, “I’ve got you, Princess.”
You bent slightly at your knees and swiftly scooped Regina up into your arms. She gasped in surprise as you held her around her back and under her knees and bridal carried her over to her bed, then carefully laid her down and tucked her under the covers. 
She smiled at you, “forget the fashion show, just come here and cuddle me… take your clothes off, though. I want to feel your skin.”
You smiled and started to take your clothes off to the side of the bed in an incredibly over-acted, Magic Mike sort of way, which made Regina burst out laughing, then you got into bed and under the covers with her and spooned her. 
You kissed the back of her head and breathed in the smell of her hair. She squeezed your forearm and brought your hand to her lips, kissing your knuckles softly. 
“I know you’re scared, Regina… but if it helps at all, you have me now. I’ll always be here to take care of you from now on, because I love you.”
She smiled and kissed the back of your hand, “thank you, baby.”
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