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hannieehaee · 5 months

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them accidentally ditching you on your bday pt. 2 - hhu

content: angsty, gender neutral, established relationship, conflict resolution, direct continuation to this, fluff, happy ending, etc.

part 1

wc: 3889

a/n: literally so many ppl requested thisjhdf im glad u guys liked it!! im working on vu and pu versions for this rn btw <3

masterlist

seungcheol -

seungcheol sat there for a minute or so, simply pondering at what had just happened. it was 100% his fault, that was something he was very well aware of. he knew that it had simply slipped his mind, but that did not wipe away the hurt he saw in your eyes upon entering your shared apartment. knowing that you had been waiting for him all day made him feel like an asshole. he couldn't believe that he had forgotten about your birthday even upon coming home at midnight the night prior. he felt like such a hypocrite, always whining at people to give him royalty treatment on his birthday but absolutely ignoring you during yours. you, his most favorite person.

he felt hurt that you had decided to spend the night with some friends, instead of in the arms of your boyfriend, but he understood. this was what he deserved. god knew that he wouldve pulled out all the dramatics if you had done the same to him, which was why he was now at a standstill, not knowing what he should do. he wanted to see you so badly, get on his knees and apologize, letting you know over and over again that you were the most vital person in his life and that forgetting you was something that not even he could forgive himself for.

now, he could've sat there and lamented himself over his stupid mistake, or he could run after you before you made it out of the building. he did not want you going to bed angry, or much worse, sad, so he picked the latter and got off his ass to chase after you, not caring about his current exhaustion as he took the stairs rather than the elevator in order to be able to catch up to you before you made it to your car.

luckily for him, he was able to catch you just as you stepped out of the elevator (having ran down five flights of stairs and almost injuring himself in the process), completely unsuspecting to his sudden ambush. he hadn't noticed until now, but you had dressed up, clearly ready to go clubbing or partying with your friends. he felt bad to get in the way of your plans. no, he felt horrible to accidentally ditch you and then ruin your plans. but he needed to at least try and make amends. he knew that if this were him, he'd want you to try and make it up to him.

you jumped back a bit at seungcheol's sudden apparition as you rounded the corner upon exiting the elevator, seemingly not having expected him to come after you.

"cheol, what are you doing?", you didn't seem mad, but your tone let him know you were clearly not content with him.

okay, he didn't think as far as this. his main goal was just to convince you to stay, then he would come up with a way to make it up to you.

"baby, i ... i'm so sorry. i know how hypocritical this is coming from me. i never meant to forget, you know that! there's nothing i can do to make up for having forgotten about you today, but please, please let me try."

"cheol .. i don't know," you paused, "last year when i texted you at 12:03 you complained about it for over an hour. you're the one always making a big deal about this. i assumed you'd care when the shoe was on your foot, but apparently not."

"i do! i do care. baby, please. let me take you out. ditch your friends. i'll take you somewhere. anywhere. i'll even take you out tomorrow too! i'll take the day off. how does that sound?"

"you cant take the day off, cheol. you're an idol-"

"i dont care! they can come and try to drag me away from you if they want. i want to be with you. please let me. please don't leave. cant stand the thought of you going to sleep alone after what i did."

you chuckled at the first half of his statement, feeling touched at the second part of it.

"are you sure?"

he scoffed, deciding to go on a leap and hold onto your hands, pulling you closer to him, "yes! there's nothing i wanted to do more today than be with you! it mightve slipped my mind that today was the day, but i had a beautiful day for us planned, baby. will you let me show you? please?"

cheol knew it was hard for you to say no to him, specially when he whined and pouted at you, giving you his best performance in order for you to understand how badly he felt. it didn't take much more for you to break, finally letting a smile graced your face as you squeezed his hands in yours.

"you better make this worth my while, choi seungcheol," god, he hated when anyone called him that, but you were the exception.

"always."

wonwoo -

wonwoo was astonished at himself, for lack of a better word. he had never been more disappointed in himself than in this moment. sure, he didn't take birthdays too seriously, and he knew you didn't either, but you always made him feel so special on his day he had only wanted to do the same. he was a lowkey guy, so his ways of showing love sometimes went unnoticed by most people, except for you. you accepted the subtlety of his love, loving him all the more for it. he felt terrible that today he showed you the exact opposite of what he had planned. he had taken weeks to perfect the dinner he had wanted to make for you, having prepared a romantic night for the two of you. all he wanted was to make you feel loved as he held you through the night, but his plan had stupidly slipped his mind.

what kind of asshole ditches their significant other on their birthday? for a stupid video game out of all things? as soon as wonwoo communicated what you had texted him to mingyu, his roommate couldn't help but scold him, telling him this was very uncharacteristic of him. which it was. everyone knew wonwoo to be a very sensible guy. it was very rare for anyone to have their feelings hurt by wonwoo. the guy was just simply too emotionally intelligent to ever be perceived as a hurtful individual. except now he had shown a careless part of himself that rarely ever faced the surface.

he was unsure of what to do. it was clear by your messages that you did not want to see him. you quite literally had asked him to not come. your texts to him were always filled with love, somehow being able to have your affections to him transcend even through text. but these were cold, and with good reason. still, wonwoo did not want to give up. the only thing that would be worse than ditching you on your birthday would be to stay where he was, knowing you were not only upset but also hurt by his actions. or rather, lack there of.

so, wonwoo was now on his way to you. well, to your apartment. you had mentioned in your messages that you would be out with friends due to his absence. it killed him that you had chosen to be with your friends over him, but he was fully aware that he only had himself to blame for that. he was glad you at least had someone to be with while his forgetfulness kept him away from you.

he had a key to your apartment, often heading over to fall asleep in your arms after a grueling day of being an idol. upon arriving there, he knew you'd be gone, so he allowed himself in, hauling in all the ingredients he had packed with him in order to make you the dinner he had been planning all these weeks. he was unsure of when you'd arrive back home, so he needed to hurry just in case. there was also a chance you'd come back in the early hours of the morning, knowing you would sometimes stay out with your friends til 1 or 2 in the am. having practiced this dinner multiple times, wonwoo was able to have it all done by 10, hoping that you'd arrive soon so the dinner wouldn't go to waste. he took care of the ambience, lighting candles and even moving furniture aside to make space for his set up. all he had to do now was wait for your arrival.

it had taken you around two hours to arrive. wonwoo had simply sat there waiting for you, not wanting to contact you as to not disturb you. okay, maybe he had maniacally texted you back earlier, apologizing for his mistake over and over, but had received no response, so he had decided it'd be best to just wait for you to arrive on your own. and now you were here, crossing the door to your apartment.

you stopped upon spotting him, widening your eyes before taking note of the dinner table behind him, "wonwoo? what are you doing here?"

he smiled sadly at you, slightly unsure of what to say, "i cooked for you," he paused, continuing upon seeing your confusion, "im so sorry. time got the best of me. i cant believe it slipped my mind. i knew it was today, but i got too distracted. i never wanted to make you feel like i didnt care. i do. so much."

you stood there without saying anything, still carrying a slightly shocked expression on your face. so he continued.

"baby ... please, have a meal with me. i prepared all this for you. this is what i had planned for today, if only i hadnt forgotten. let me make it up to you, please. i already called off tomorrow. i had a whole day planned for us, but i'll do whatever you want. if you want me to leave, i will. just, please. i need you to know how much i care. i love you, you're everything."

you continued to stare at him for a bit, a soft smile slowly breaking into your features before responding.

"nonu .. you didn't have to do all this. i'm sorry if i made you worry. this is ... it's such a sweet gesture. of course i want you to stay. all i wanted all day was to be with you," it melted his heart that you had wanted him all day, but were separated by none other than himself.

he pulled you into his arms halfway through your response, humming as he felt you hug him back. nothing felt as nice as your touch against his.

"im so sorry, beautiful. this will never happen again, i promise."

"i love you, wonwoo. thank you."

"happy birthday."

mingyu -

mingyu had never hauled ass quicker than at that moment, not even bothering to say goodbye to his roommate before grabbing a jacket and sprinting out of the door.

he couldn't believe his behavior towards you. you had always been a top priority to him, and to now realize he had forgotten your birthday gutted him tremendously. but what got to him even more was the knowledge that you had probably been waiting all day for him, having agreed beforehand that he would make space for you on your special day even through his packed comeback schedule. the sole thought that you, the bestest person he had ever met, had sat alone waiting for him all day, made him feel like the worst boyfriend. so now he was quite literally running in order to get to you.

the dryness of your voice during that call should've been the first hint that something was wrong, but what really made the alarms go off in his head was your lack of response when he said 'i love you' to you. mingyu knew it was dumb to care so much about it, but he thrived off words of affirmation, so your lack of response made him immediately assume something was wrong. you had never not reciprocated his words of affection, much less hung up on him. the moment he expressed his concerns to wonwoo, he was reminded by his roommate that 'oh wait, isn't it their birthday this week?' suddenly his mind started spiraling, now remembering that he had forgotten his boyfriend duties on the most important day.

it didn't take him too long to get to your apartment. okay, he didn't actually run there, he was just being a tad bit dramatic. but dramatics were necessary in this situation, which is why the moment you begrudgingly opened the door after his incessant knocks, allowing him inside, he immediately dropped to his knees, looking up at you as he rambled apologies at you.

"baby, i'm so fucking sorry. god, i don't know how i forgot. i swear the day just slipped my mind. i had plans ready, i swear! i've just been so busy with the comeback- not that that's an excuse! you have every reason to be mad at me. it won't happen again, i promise, i-" mingyu wasn't sure when exactly he was going to stop listing off constant apologies to you. he wasn't really paying attention to what he was saying at this point, just repeating himself over and over again, letting it slip past him that you were now standing above him, holding in your amusement at the state of the pleading man before you.

"mingyu, please get up."

like an obedient boy, he got up, now towering over you as he usually did. he immediately held onto your hands, bringing them up to his chest as he continued his apologies.

"you have every right to be mad at me. i neglected you and forgot about you when i shouldn't have. i didn't even wanna come home to wonwoo tonight! i wanted to come to you! but we have a schedule early tomorrow morning, so it was just easier. but i'll cancel! i'll stay here with you! i wanna make it up to you-"

"mingyu, shut up!"

that was enough for him to slam his mouth shut immediately, looking at you as he waited for your next command words.

"mingyu, listen. i understand. i was hurt you forgot, but i understand you're really busy right now, okay? i'm not angry at you. you don't have to cancel your schedule either. i don't want to get in the way of-"

"i'll do it! you're my top priority, baby. you know that."

"i still don't want you to cancel, gyu. it's fine. i'm not angry. i appreciate your apology. just wanted to be with you today .. i'm sorry if i made you worry," you looked down, almost as if embarrassed by having felt hurt by his actions. this made mingyu melt with guilt.

"no, baby. fuck. how can i make this up to you? can i stay here tonight? hmm? i'll cook you dinner and wake you up with breakfast. i'll even cut my schedule short for tomorrow so i can be back home with you earlier. how's that sound?"

"sounds perfect mingyu, thank you," he took this as confirmation to finally hold you in his arms, swaying you back and forth as he hummed the birthday song lightly against your ear, causing you to giggle against him.

vernon -

everyone was aware that vernon could sometimes be a little too chill for his own good. he didn't make too big of a deal about most things, simply going with the flow and allowing things to evolve on their own. except that could not be done in this situation. right now, he needed to make a choice. give you your space, or run home to you, tail between his legs as he apologized for ever having forgotten about you. the last thing vernon would ever want was for you to not feel the immense amount of love he's always had for you. he knew he could be bad at showing it sometimes, but you were the absolute love of his life, which made him feel devastated over and over again as he kept rereading your texts.

'maybe you should stay at the dorms tonight. not really in the mood for you to spend the night. im sorry. love you.' that was what you had last sent to him exactly thirty-eight minutes ago. how could he just sit with that for the rest of the night? specially when all he wanted to do was be with you and hold you and kiss you and show you how incredibly obsessed with you he was. he was never good with dates, but he had always gotten any and all dates pertaining to you right thus far. he even had a gift for you he had purchased a few months back, but he had stupidly forgotten the day he had been preparing for was this week. this mistake was an outlier, truly, but it hurt you nonetheless, which was all vernon cared about at the moment. he couldn't believe you'd been having to hint at your birthday while your boyfriend remained clueless. you must've felt so dejected. he winced at the thought.

however, right now was not a time for lamentations. even if you kicked him out and told him to get fucked, vernon had to at least try to come home to you now. he quickly went over the situation with his members, explaining that he had been a total douchebag and neglected you. that earned him scoldings from all members present, calling him all types of names and demanding he head over to your apartment right this instant to beg for forgiveness and hope you wouldn't just send him right back.

so now he was on his way to you, despite you having instructed him to stay away. he wanted to respect your wishes, but he couldn't go to sleep tonight knowing your heart was still hurt because of him. he needed to at least see you and have you know that he was willing to try and mend things. vernon wasn't one for public displays, nor was he one for dramatics, but he was willing to pull all stops for you if it meant you'd forgive him. which was why he was currently running through the hybe hallways as he called up his driver to be ready to take him to your apartment as soon as he reached the parking lot.

he had had time to think over a game plan on the way over, except nothing came to mind. the two of you had never fought before. sure, there had been a few minuscule spats here and there, but he had never seen you angry at him before; he'd never given any reason to be until now. he didn't want to freak out over this, but knew how hurtful it must've been for you to feel so neglected by the person who's supposed to love you most, so he felt a pit in his stomach with the worry that maybe this would be enough for you to finally snap at his forgetful tendencies and end it. he didn't have much time to think about this, however, as he now stood in front of your apartment door, fearful of knocking on it.

the decision to open the door was made for him, as you incidentally opened it yourself, yelping at his apparition on the other side of it.

"vernon? what are you doing here?", you didn't seem angry. you seemed more confused at his presence. that was good.

"i- uh ... i'm sorry."

okay, kind of a bad start.

"vernon. i told you not to come over tonight. i'm sorry, i'm not really in the mood to see you right now," even though you didn't appear angry, your eyes wouldn't meet his, making him deflate a bit.

"are you mad at me? i'm so sorry. i didnt mean to forget, i swear," vernon knew there wasn't much he could say past that, but he wanted you to at least know he regretted his neglect.

"i'm not angry, vernon. i'm just a little ... sad. i tried to be subtle about it. i mean, i dont even care for my birthday that much, but i hoped my boyfriend would at least remember it."

"baby, god. i am so fucking sorry. i never meant to make you feel like i didn't care. it just slipped my mind. i know it's not a valid excuse, but i need you to know that it doesnt mean anything. i'm just a fucking idiot. i'm sorry."

he was rambling now. somehow you being hurt by him trumped the chance of you being mad.

"vernon, it's fine. i dont want you beating yourself up about it. i'll get over it. i just need space tonight. i was about to go meet with a friend before you got here," you seemed like you just wanted to get out of the situation, clearly feeling awkward at even expressing your disappointment at him. it made vernon feel like even more of an asshole.

"no! be mad! you shouldn't get over it. i should be making it up to you. stay. please. i'll do anything you want. i'll take tomorrow off. we can do something together. anything you want. i have a gift for you and everything! i got it while in japan, the date just slipped my mind, i swear. please stay. i don't want to leave you alone if i made you sad. please."

"vernon ..."

"please. i don't want to force you. if you want to leave, i'll accept it, but let me make it up to you. i dont want you to feel like i dont care. i do. i know i dont express it much, that's on me. i'll make it known. i'll show you. i don't want to hurt you again, i-"

he was unable to finish his sentence, now stumbling back due to a sudden weight against him. you, with your arms now wrapped around him as your face nuzzled his neck. he instinctively wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you in as he lowered his head to breathe you in, humming as he felt the relief of having you in his hold.

you pulled away too quickly for his liking, eyes slightly glossy but not enough to consider it worrisome, "i forgive you. i'm sorry, i didn't mean to exaggerate. i did feel neglected, but-"

"but nothing. don't apologize, please. this won't happen again, okay? i love you."

"i love you too," you smiled at him before pausing, "i .. do you wanna come in?", you seemed a bit sheepish, probably feeling awkward at hearing vernon ramble apologies at you for the past five minutes, showing way more emotion than he usually did.

"come in? oh, you're not leaving? wait, don't answer that. yes," he held onto your hand before you could say anything, pulling you in for a quick kiss before leading you into your apartment, all under the promise to make up for his previous carelessness and never make you doubt his affections for you ever again.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #seventeen #svt #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen oneshot #svt oneshot #seventeen reactions #svt reactions #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #svt angst #svt fluff

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sorcerous-caress · 6 months

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could u possibly do how companions would treat tav's kid? like in a situation where a tav had a child/younger sibling or smth. fluffy fluff all around

You know how sometimes fate aligns so that your past deeds follow you into the future? This request gave me a flashback to my old writing blog.

Companions reacting to Tav's younger sibling/child

[ bg3, fluff, several characters ]

[ Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Karlach, Laezel, Shadowheart, Minthara ]

Astarion

What on earth is that little gremlin following you around? Just make sure that no one feeds it after midnight.

To say he's not a fan is a huge underestimation, he signed up for a camp full of hot available single adults and not a daycare. How are you expecting him to be his usual self when a pg13 warning keeps chasing you around.

Whatever, he will just ignore the goblin-like thing. He can do that, how hard can it be?

Well...actually now that some time has passed, he has to admit that the little menace is really funny at times. Especially that one time he stole Gale's books to build a book throne in the mud, Astarion swears he could still hear Gale's heart shattering into a million pieces, what a fond memory.

What? Pfff, no, he isn't getting attached. He just...well was doing some trick with a coin to make it disappear, and the kid happened to be nearby, Astarion definitely wasn't trying to impress them.

Now the thing about picking locks is that it's better to teach them young. Think of all the small places, nooks, and crannies they could fit into, bringing them some loot and actually be useful.

And since he's already bothering to do it, might as well teach them how to wield a bow. Properly wield a bow, not like how Wyll does it no, it requires elegance only an elf is capable of and Astarion is the most expert here to train them.

Did you see that? They're actually getting better. He genuinely is impressed, so much that he doesn't register the smile of pride adorning his face, the excitement in his voice as he boasts about the kid's accomplishment and how they're clearly superior than the other crotch goblins.

Gale

Ah, children, truly the future of mankind. Humanity's hope and the ones who will carry the torch after us.

He is almost giddy at the idea of having an impressionable youth to teach, to steer and to spoil rotten like he was spoiled.

Will show off magic tricks nonchalantly, he definitely has a hidden agenda in trying to make the kid a wizard. After all who is better than him, an arch wizard, to teach a new curious soul about all the wonders of the weave? No magic is too advanced, everything is possible with imagination.

If anything, kids have the best imagination, better than adults do. Which is the argument he uses when you ask him why your little one can shoot invisible fireballs now.

He would love to read to them, he has all kinds of stories about heros, past legends and fables that will guarantee them a safe and sound mind. A healthy mindest to nurture then into a good kind hearted adult.

Even when his books end up the subject of the kid's abuse kind of a lot- Gale is nothing but forgiving. Cut the kid some slack, if anything, Gale is happy they are safe and sound.

Would make special meals for the kid during dinner time a lot, bunny shaped carrot cuts or soup with a sparkly finish. He can even teach them some basic recipes, cooking is a very important life skill afterall.

Wyll

He is very experienced with kids. Feels a bit concerned for the fact they're at camp all alone and volunteers to stay behind and watch them. And no, unlike the previous two, he doesn't try to indoctrinate them into elf supremacy culture nor tactically manipulate them into being a wizard.

He just lets them be a kid, plays ball with them. Shows them how to play fetch with Scratch. Overall a very cool and laid back older brother.

He definitely takes great inspiration from his own dad and how he raised him, offers the same advice and wisdom his own father shared with him.

Shows the kid that life is so much more than it seems, nothing is truly evil and nothing is truly good. Both can be found in each other. He treats the kid with respect and doesn't pull the older than you card unless necessary.

He wants them to establish their own being, their own character and carve their own path in life.

Definitely does whatever he can to keep Mizora away from the child. That devil cannot be trusted, and even while he knows the kid is smart, he doesn't want to leave it up to fate whether Mizora tricks them into a pact or not.

Halsin

The kid adores him and all of his animal forms. Halsin indulges them a lot and changes into whatever wildshape they deem the coolest that day to play with them.

When he looks at them, he sees a seed for the future. It requires care and nurturing to grow properly, and he is willing to make this world a better place for them.

Shows them how important nature is, how we should take care of the world just like it takes care of us. How we should respect the plants and the animals, how every meal is a gift and should be treasured.

He has a very fatherly vibe to him. It comes naturally, and he doesn't even have to try. Whenever the kid feels overwhelmed or scared, it's Halsin they run up and hide behind.

Also, when they get in trouble too because they know Halsin will take their side.

And he knows the kid is using him sometimes, but he lets it slide. Takes the kid on walks a lot, helps them make friends with the nearby cat that sometimes frequents the camp.

There is a potted plant they're both growing, a small shared project between the two of them. Halsin adores the look of happiness the kid has whenever the plant sprouts a new leaf and grows taller.

They don't have to know that it was Halsin's powers keeping it alive throughout the frequent changing of their camp and consistent travelling.

Karlach

Little soldier is what she calls them.

Picks them up a lot after her engine gets fixed, let's them ride on her shoulder and hang on to her horns sometimes. Even indulges them and pretends she is a robot that they're controlling.

Sorry Astarion, she can't stop hugging you. She's a simple robot, and the overlord kid on her shoulders demanded it.

While Wyll is the cool yet dependable older sibling, Karlach is the even cooler one who's very chaotic and would help the kid in their pranks and cause trouble a lot.

Ah, what the hell kid, sure you can pick up her great flaming axe and swing it around. Actually she will use a nearby table as a shield and you should definitely try throwing it at her.

It's not that she means to be a bad influence, it's just that she is extremely indulgent. That it circles back to being a bad influence without meaning to.

They want to only eat sweets for dinner and all day? Hell yeah little soldier she wants the same. They want to do it for the rest of eternity and never eat vegetables again? Sign her the fuck up because she is ride or die.

Oh yeah, your kid/sibling can swear now, thanks to her, you're welcome.

Jaheira

Is the one feeding them the vegetables, after telling Karlach off and putting her in the timeout corner.

It's not enough that she has a gaggle of children back home, but you had to bring another one with you to the camp? Oh cub, you and your own little cub are going to be the death of her.

If Halsin thinks he can hide them behind his bear form he better think twice, Jaheira isn't below putting the both of them in line if she has to.

She demands respect, and the kid definitely ends up giving it to her, begrudgingly or not. They understand she is the true form of authority in this camp and that they better do what she says and finish their chores.

They definitely see her as a grandma. She is secretly touched if they call her that but acts unaffected. She just doesn't want to let the kid down. She has to be strict because medicine never tastes sweet.

They remind her of her own kids backhome sometimes, she does get homesick a lot more with them around.

Shadowheart

No, she isn't emo. No, she isn't goth either. What is this kid talking about? They better know that worship of lady Shar is very sacred and not a passing phase she will grow out of.

You know how kids are overly curious and always ask these intrusive questions? Shadowheart is a magnet for that.

They just go up to her ,unannounced, and tell her about the recent camp news. She sips on her wine and gives the kid a glass of grape juice while they gossip.

Yes, she is a half elf. No, she is still as capable as an elf.

Wait, what did Astarion say about her? Really? Well, kid, thanks for being a snitch now. If you'd excuse her, she has urgent business to take care of.

She sees them and wonder if this is how her childhood was supposed to be like, if this is what she was missing out on all her life. Sometimes she can't help the burning envy at the back of her throat as she watches them be showered with love and care for simply existing.

But she doesn't let the bitterness get to her, not with how the kid looks at her in awe and admiration. She vows to be at least a decent example and not disappoint them.

Laezel

If left unattended, she will start a boot camp. Come one kid, get down, and give her 40 push-ups now.

What? She is just looking out for them. How else are they supposed to join the battlefield if they have no upper body strength?

Yes, the battlefield, why do you ask? Of course, she wants them in the front lines eventually. War is the perfect environment to raise a child, to make them strong and fast. You were very smart for bringing them here with you, she has to admit.

Bah, she scoofs at Karlach and Astarion's ways. It is a danger hazard at best. The kid needs to start with training equipment and not actual weapons. Her companions' lack of braincells does surprise her sometimes.

Well...she also does mention the fact that for them to graduate, they have to actually murder someone from the camp. You know, like how she murdered half her classmates when she was still in training.

She actually...does a good job at training them safely, she evaluates their weakness and strengths and gives them advice based on it on how to improve. She looks out for their well-being and shows them the most efficient way to end a fight.

But she's only joking? Right? Right???

Uh....did anyone see Gale??

Minthara

To put it in the nicest way possible, they are terrfied of her.

She thinks it's good because any sane person should be afraid of her. Frankly, she'd be concerned for a possibility of brain damage if they weren't.

They avoid her, and she barely pats an eye over it.

Although she was always the first to act whenever they were in danger, completely beheading the enemy with her sword before they could touch a hair on the kid. Still she doesn't care for the fact the child is drenched in blood and just saw someone get murdered.

She thinks they should get over it. The sooner, the better. Life is full of murder and blood, you'd be only dooming them if you don't let them see things for how they really are.

Drow culture for raising their children is very brutal, most of them die young and even the ones who do make it alive, don't live as long as the surface elves do.

Each drow carries deep scars from childhood, both on body and mind. Minthara wasn't the exception.

She tolerates your young out of respect for you. She tolerates what she deems as disobedience and disrespect from them.

You're not sure if they'll ever stop fearing her, but you also know that you can trust her to be there for them. To not hesitate a second in saving their flesh no matter what the cost is.

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random-thot-generator · 10 months

Text

Try a Little Tenderness

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem Reader

Summary: Simon has just returned home in the middle of the night from a mission in less than stellar condition. Understanding that he was in desperate need of some TLC, you put aside the ‘frenemy’ dynamic the two of you usually operate within to take care of him, instead. Your gentle ministrations elicit a reaction that neither of you expect, but perhaps have been yearning for all along.

Warnings: Language, explicit sexual content, touching of naughty bits - Simon gets a helping hand in the bath, fluff and feelings, no Y/N

(A/N: This is a thot connected to an idea I had for a series. Still not sure about the series, but what ev.

This is just me exploring the intimate relationship between the characters. It is minor smut compared to what I usually write, meant to be a vulnerable moment for Simon, and for reader as well. I dunno, I feel like a certain amount of trust needs to be established before Simon allows himself to be with someone in an intimate way.

For a little backstory, Reader is Simon’s housekeeper/roommate/frenemy. It’s been platonic up to this point, but there have been some charged moments leading up to this. This is the turning point in the relationship, the first time Simon allows himself to really indulge in reader’s attention and care. Reader and Simon have been living together for about a year by this point but have known each other for almost two. Simon’s pet name for reader is ‘Doll’; reader’s pet name for Simon is ‘Grumpy’.)

Word Count: 2777

It was almost midnight by the time Simon shuffled through his front door. He was dead on his feet, still wearing the same clothes he put on three days ago, covered in filth and stinking to high hell. He would normally have stayed on base, cleaned up, ate and retired to his quarters to rest, but for some reason, he’d texted you mid-flight to tell you he was on his way back. He hadn’t been expecting an immediate answer, but he got one.

[DOLL]: What’s ur ETA? I’ll wait up 4 u. Have u eaten?

Simon had hovered over his phone, glancing about the plane, not sure how to respond. He supposed he didn’t have to stay on base. He’d just never had a reason to return home before. He knew he should tell you not to wait up, to go to bed, that he would see you tomorrow, but instead he found himself tapping out a different message.

[GRUMPY]: Landing in twenty. Be home approx 2hrs.

[DOLL]: I’ll be waiting. C u soon.

He re-read the message several times. ‘I’ll be waiting.’ This was new for him, having someone to go home to, having someone there expecting him, waiting up to see him. Sure, he had come home to you before, but not like this. This was... premeditated.

As he closed the door behind him and locked it, he heard your feet padding through the sitting room and turned. He couldn’t help the smile that spread under the balaclava when he saw you. You were dressed in one of his old T-shirts, a pair of flannel sleep shorts peeking out beneath the hem, and a pair of those ugly fuzzy socks on your feet. Your hair was loose and hanging down your back, not quite dry yet from an earlier shower, and your face was free of makeup. He liked seeing you like this better than any other way.

You were looking at him in that direct way that always got to him, assessing him, checking him over. He waited for one of your customary snarky greetings, but instead your brows furrowed.

“You look exhausted, Si. C’mere. Sit down,” you instructed, pointing at the entryway bench. Simon didn’t even hesitate, just did as he was told. He watched you kneel before him and start unlacing his boots.

“Ya don’t got t’do that, Doll. I can―“

“Si, hush,” you murmured, your voice soft and gentle. “I got this, okay? You’re home. Relax.”

He didn’t have it in him to argue, so let you have your way. You removed his boots and stuck them under the bench by his trainers, then stood and held your hand out. “C’mon. You need a bath.”

He let you lead him up the stairs, but instead of taking him to his ensuite bathroom, you led him down the hallway to the bathroom that you used. You motioned for him to sit down on the toilet while you stoppered the tub and turned on the taps. He watched with curiosity as you opened the cabinet below the sink, taking out a glass jar filled with some sort of pinkish granules, sprinkling a generous portion of it into the filling tub.

“Wha’s that?”

“Epsom salts with lavender and eucalyptus. It’ll help ease your sore muscles,” you told him, replacing the jar in the cabinet. You turned to look him over again. “Let’s get you out of those dirty clothes. I’ll get you some clean ones once you’re in the bath. C’mon. Arms up.”

Simon thought about objecting. He was a grown man, he could undress himself, but as soon as he felt your hands on him, all complaints went right out the window. He held his arms out so you could pull the tail of his shirt out of the waistband of his jeans, shivering when he felt your fingers graze his lats as you peeled it up and over his head.

“I smell like shite,” he grumbled, embarrassed for you to be this close to him when he was in such a disgusting state.

You huffed, the sound low and amused. “You smell like a soldier who just got back from deployment. Believe me, I’ve smelled worse.” You motioned for him to stand again. Once he regained his feet, your hands went to his waist, undoing the belt and pulling it free, then you undid the button and fly of his jeans. You pushed them down until they bunched around his knees, then instructed him to lean on you while you tugged them off his legs.

And he just... let you. He had not had anyone care for him like this since his last stint in the medical bay, and that had been a male nurse with hands rougher than his own. He’d not had a woman care for him like this since he was a small boy, when his mother would get him ready for his bath. He felt his chest constrict, almost told you to stop, but your hand on the back of his calf silenced him.

“Foot up,” you said, letting him lean on you again as you stripped off first one sock and then the other. Once you straightened, you placed a hand at the small of his back and gave him a gentle push towards the tub. “I’ll go get you some clean clothes while you get in,” you said, then stooped to gather up his dirty things. “Be back in a minute.”

You left him staring after you, disappearing down the hallway. He turned back to the tub, eyeing the hot water lapping at the sides. Aromatic steam rose from its surface, too tempting to ignore. Pushing his underwear off his hips, he let them drop on the floor and stepped out of them, then climbed into the tub.

He groaned long and low as the hot water enveloped him, certain he had never felt anything better in his whole life. Closing his eyes, he dropped his head back on the edge, only then realizing that he still had on his balaclava. He hesitated for a moment, then reached up and pulled it off as well, dropping the dirty hood on top of his underwear. Fuck it. You’d seen his face before and hadn’t made a big deal out of it, didn’t even comment on it, really, just took it in stride like you did everything else.

He cracked an eye open when you re-entered the room, watching as you placed his clean clothes on the counter next to the sink. You opened another cabinet and removed some towels and a washcloth, glanced over at him, then opened a drawer and took out what looked like a pack of wipes and a squat, plastic jar with a pink lid. You brought it all to the tub with you and knelt by the side, near his head. You held up the pack of wipes and pointed at the black paint around his eyes.

“Figured these would help take that gunk off. I’ve got some cold cream, too. Can I...”

You wanted to touch his face. His mouth dropped open to say no, but then he closed it and swallowed. You were looking right at him, a normal expression on your face, not flinching away or averting your eyes. If it didn’t bother you, then he would allow it. For now. He gave a slow nod of assent.

You opened the pack of wipes and set them beside you, then opened the cold cream. “Lean your head back and close your eyes for me.”

Simon did as he was told, though his brain was sounding a klaxon alarm in his head. He was exposing his throat to someone, was closing his eyes and leaving himself vulnerable to your mercy. Did you see how tense he was? Could you see the muscles spasming as he fought not to move, to push you away, to fend you off like an enemy? Did you understand what this was doing to him right now?

Apparently, you did, at least to some extent.

“Okay, Si. I’m going to put this cream around your eyes. It will feel cold, so don’t freak out. If you need to stop, just say the word. Alright?”

“Yeah,” he croaked out, waiting, steeling himself for the contact.

The first touch had him flinching, but he forced himself to remain still as you spread the cream around his eyes, working it in with your fingers in small circular motions. When you finished, you set the jar down and picked up the wipes. “I’m gonna clean all this off with these wipes. They’ll feel cold, too.”

This time, he only nodded, more relaxed now. Your touch had been soothing once he’d gotten used to it. It was... nice. He didn’t even twitch an eyelash when he felt the cool pressure of your fingers against his jaw, letting you tilt his head towards you. Your other hand began wiping gently at his face with one of the wipes. They smelled slightly floral, similar to the cold cream; he liked it.

It took several minutes to clean his face, neither of you saying anything. You were patient and methodical, cleaning away all the paint until none of it remained.

“Okay. Done with that,” you murmured, fingers moving from his face to his hair. “I’m going to wash your hair next, okay?”

“Hm,” he hummed in consent, not even bothering to open his eyes.

You wet his hair and then poured shampoo into your palm, working your hands together before placing them on his head. As your fingers curled and began to work his hair into a lather, Simon couldn’t help the low groan that rumbled out. It felt like heaven, the way your fingers massaged his scalp and neck. He could have whined when you stopped, but his breath hitched when he felt your fingertips under his chin, tilting his head back.

“Just need to rinse your hair, Grumpy. Keep your eyes closed.”

Again, he did as you instructed, not offering so much as a grunt of complaint when you rinsed his hair and then used the washcloth to dry his face. You raked your fingers through his hair, noting how choppy and uneven it was. Maybe he’d let you cut it some time, but for now, you would stick to what you knew he would allow.

“How ‘bout I wash your back for you and then I’ll go downstairs and make you something to eat while you finish your bath?”

He blinked his eyes open and stared at you. The steam and trapped heat from the bath were making you sweat, a light sheen making your skin gleam in the warm light. He had the sudden urge to run his thumb up your throat, collect the moisture beading there and taste it. He felt his cock give a twitch of interest below the water and brought his bent knees closer together. Grasping the edges of the tub, he pulled himself in to a sitting position, back bowed towards you.

Pleased to see him so cooperative, you dunked the washcloth in the water and grabbed your body wash, squirting out a couple of dollops. Working the cloth in your hands until you had a good lather, you rested one hand on his shoulder and used the other to slowly scrub the cloth over his back in large circles. You could feel the tension easing out of his shoulders, watched his head tip forward until he finally crossed his forearms on his knees and rested his forehead against them.

When you were done with his back, you didn’t stop, moving up to his shoulders and then down his arm. He leaned back, studying the way you washed each finger, working the cloth between them. You glanced up at him. “Other arm?”

He twisted around and held his arm out to you, resting his wrist on the edge of the tub. You washed it with as much care as you had the other, leaning over the tub to reach his underarm. When you went to slide the cloth away, he caught your wrist and pulled it to the center of his chest. He then closed his eyes and leaned back, letting his head rest against the edge again.

Slow circles worked the lathered cloth over his broad chest and collarbones, and you smiled when he tipped his chin up to let you wash his neck. A soft breath hissed between his lips as your hand dipped below the water’s surface to wash his sides and stomach, his brows ticking together when you brought the cloth back up. He shifted, his knees going wide to lean against the sides of the tub.

You were beginning to feel heat simmering in your lower belly that sent a blush creeping up your neck. “Do, uh... I can wash your legs next. If you like.”

He caught your hand in his, eyes still closed, and pushed it beneath the water again. “Wash here,” he replied, his voice like gravel in his throat.

You held your breath as he guided your hand down to his cock, let him wrap your fingers around its swollen girth and hold them there. His chest was rising and falling, chin tipping forward to rest on it when he felt you grip him tighter. Your lips parted as you gave him a tentative stroke, your breath puffing out in little pants as you watched him let out a shuddering breath, his eyes rolling open to reveal a lust-dazed expression before sliding closed again.

Your hand slid up and down his shaft in slow, even strokes, working him gradually, wanting him to enjoy what you were doing to him. His pleasure incited your own, and you could feel your panties grow damp with your arousal as you watched him slowly fall apart. He was panting now, head lolling back once more, hooded, hazy eyes staring up at the ceiling, his knuckles going white as they gripped the edge of the tub.

Your thighs squeezed together when a wrecked moan tore from his lips as you worked at him beneath the cloudy water, wishing it was clear enough for you to see him as well as feel him. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, the feel of his hot length pulsing in your hand almost too much to bear.

“Ah, fuck...” he huffed out, his back beginning to curl forward. He lifted his eyes to yours, mouth open and panting, a look of near desperation on his face. His hand came up to grip the nape of your neck, drawing you close until his forehead rested against yours, holding your gaze. His nose brushed against yours in an intimate caress, lips almost touching, the two of you sharing the same air. “Don’t stop,” he husked out.

The speed of your strokes increased, your hand slipping up to focus on the head, making his knees draw up as he tensed. You could feel him swelling in your hand, growing bigger and harder as he neared his release. His eyes grew wide, mouth falling open as his jaw went slack.

“It’s okay, Simon,” you whispered to him, “I got you,” and that was all the prompting he needed.

His grip turned into a vice on the nape of your neck as he erupted beneath the surface of the water, and he growled against your mouth, teeth gritting into a snarl as he pulsed in your hand. You didn’t stop stroking him until his eyes closed and grip loosened on your neck, his breaths puffing out in exerted gasps over your lips.

You let him rest against you, not bothering to move or say anything, wanting him to have this quiet moment, to just relax in the knowledge that he was home and safe, that you were here for him. You closed your eyes and let yourself enjoy the moment as well, relishing the quiet, the peace.

Simon’s eyes flickered open, not sure what to expect, only to find your eyes closed, lashes shadowing your cheeks, a gentle smile on your face. You looked so calm, so at peace. You looked... content.

You blinked your eyes open, startled, when you felt the hesitant press of his lips against yours, but you didn’t shy away, instead letting him feel you smile against his lips before you tenderly kissed him back.

#simon ghost riley x fem reader #cod ghost x fem reader #simon riley x fem reader #ghost x fem reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #cod ghost smut #cod fanfic #cod mw2 smut #cod mw2 fanfic #soft smut

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arieslost · 1 month

Note

i have an oscar thot 😋

imagine oscar fucking reader in front of a mirror as "punishment" for being a tease all day and he's being all "look at the mess you're making of yourself", maybe a little overstim 🤭🤭

(ignore this if it's a bit much i'm just feeling self indulgent rn, maybe it's that new photoshoot lmao)

anon this was delicious. thank u for sending this in, i went feral for this and wrote it all in one sitting at midnight so i hope it’s good 😩

18+ content (smut & one instance of choking) under the cut, MDNI!!

mirror | op81

you knew exactly what you were doing. every teasing touch, whether to your boyfriend’s biceps encased in his suit jacket or up the expanse of his thighs under the table, was calculated; a means to an end that would hopefully leave you gasping for air at the end of the night. yet when oscar finally grabs your arm and drags you to the car, your heart still begins to race.

he keeps his grip on you all the way home, all the way through the door, all the way down the hall to the bedroom. you’re quick to sit on the bed, leaning back on your hands and pushing your chest forward to entice oscar more than you know you already have.

you expect him to stalk towards you, rip your clothes off, and do whatever he pleases with you. it’s what you want; you know it, and he certainly knows it. instead, he takes his time closing the distance to you. he takes far too long to turn on the bedside lamp, giving you a coy smile the whole time. he takes his time maneuvering himself between your legs and cupping your face in his hands before leaning down and placing a searing kiss on your lips that only escalates as he reaches behind you to unzip your dress.

he gets you naked with practiced ease, shedding his jacket and white button up as you make yourself comfortable against the pillows and let your eyes slide over every inch of his newly exposed skin like you’ve never seen him naked before. he completely bypasses your lips when he joins you on the bed, moving directly to your neck, lightly biting and sucking marks into your delicate skin.

the only warning sign of your impending punishment goes mostly unnoticed— you go to put your hands in his hair, and he doesn’t let you. he disguises it well, though; he simply laces your fingers with his own as his lips continue their downward descent before finally reaching their destination between your legs. that thoroughly distracts you, and he knows your body so well that he has you on the edge before you can comprehend the fact that he’s being so nice to you.

“oscar, ‘m close, don’t stop—” you’re saying, and then he’s doing the exact opposite, retracting himself from you entirely.

he’s being so surprisingly romantic about this that when he’s gone, your eyes fly open to stare at him in disbelief. he simply licks his lips and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before fixing you with a look of faux sympathy.

“oh, i’m sorry, did you think you were getting rewarded for the shit you were pulling all night?”

there it is.

your breath gets caught in your throat as he stands up and walks to the corner of the room where your full length mirror that you always use for fit checks stands. he picks it up and places it against the wall directly across from the bed before he turns his attention back to you. “cat got your tongue, honey?”

“i- i’m—”

“don’t waste my time. hands and knees facing the mirror, now.”

you bite your lip, heart knocking against your chest in anticipation. he’s never fucked you in front of a mirror before, and while you’d rather look at him than yourself, that’s how you know that your mission was successful.

you situate yourself on all fours like he told you, looking down at the way your hands are spread over the duvet as he gets back on the bed behind you, hands sliding down your back and over your ass.

“think you can just get away with being such a tease?” when you don’t answer, he reaches up to fist your hair and tugs harshly. “answer, or i’m going to leave you here all needy and desperate.”

“no, don’t wanna get away with it.” you say immediately, and he scoffs.

“oh, i see. so you want to be punished.” you try to nod, and he pulls your hair again. “god, you’re such a brat.”

“‘m your brat, though,” is all you can think to say, and luckily he seems to like that because he loosens his grip on your hair and leans down to press a kiss between your shoulder blades.

“fuck yeah, you are. now pick your head up.” he instructs, pointing towards your reflections in the mirror. “i don’t want you looking anywhere but right there. if you look down once, i’m stopping. got it?”

“yes,” you reply, pushing yourself back against him. “please, oscar—”

“behave,” he warns, before he’s pushing into you without any notice and your mind just goes completely blank.

you almost look down immediately, nearly unable to keep your eyes on the mirror when he feels so good inside of you and you finally have what you wanted since you saw him looking nothing short of tantalizing in his suit. neither of you have ever been fans of all the fancy events, but you’d happily go to a million more if the night always ends like this.

oscar doesn’t hold back at all, immediately setting a blistering pace that has you gripping the sheets even harder than you already were. you chance a look at him in the mirror, and you can’t hold back the moan that escapes you when you see how good he looks behind you. the longer strands of hair sticking to his forehead, the slight flush of his cheeks and chest from exertion, the way his eyes meet yours in the mirror and a breathless laugh escapes him when you tell him you’re close again.

“go ahead, baby, let go f’me.” he says, and you do with a cry of his name, fighting against your instincts to collapse as your legs shake and his hips slow, helping you ride it out.

but this is still a punishment, so he only gives you a few moments reprieve before picking right back up, making you yelp.

“no, no, too sensitive, please,” you manage to say, and he reaches forward to wrap a hand around your throat and pull you up so your back is flush against his chest.

“what did you say?” he asks, and when you open your mouth to respond his hand tightens just enough that you can still breathe, but you can’t get words out. “that’s what i thought. just take it and keep your eyes on the mirror.”

you obey silently, wishing that you weren’t blocking him now because he looks beautiful even when he’s disheveled like this and you… well, you look like a complete disaster. oscar seems to come to the same conclusion, because he keeps talking, lips brushing against your ear as he continues to rail you within an inch of your life.

“look at the mess you’re making of yourself,” he whispers, free hand snaking down your front and slipping between your legs. “what happened to my pristine, put together girl from earlier, huh? posing so prettily for all those pictures. now look at you.”

letting out a whimper at his words, you have no choice but to look. you’ve never watched yourself get fucked, but you know you’ve never looked this out of it before. your vision is blurry from tears of pleasure, but you can see the mascara running down your cheeks. your hair is a mess from oscar grabbing it, and your jaw is completely slack. you bring a hand up to curl around his wrist so he doesn’t let go of your throat. if he wasn’t holding on to you, you’d be face down and too out of it to care about his threat of stopping.

and maybe you like having his hand there too.

“oscar,” you say, voice hoarse from his grip. “i-i think i’m—”

“fuck, i feel it.” he grits out when you clench around him. “you can give me one more, yeah?”

“mhmm, for you,” you moan out, head falling back against his shoulder.

he doesn’t even care, a higher pitched moan escaping his mouth that tells you he’s not going to last much longer. “that’s right, all for me, all mine. my little fuckin’ tease.”

his words send you over the edge again, and you feel all your energy leave your body as your second orgasm takes everything out of you and leaves you slumped against his body as he follows suit, falling forward and barely holding himself up above you when you fall limp onto the mattress. you can feel his heavy breaths against the side of your face as he pulls out of you and rolls to the side so he can lay face down as well and get his eyes on you.

he flashes his polite cat smile at you, and you smile back, finding it hard to comprehend that this cutie with the side of his face smushed against the mattress is the same guy that just had you seeing stars mere seconds ago.

“still with me, honey?” he asks softly, reaching out and running his fingers down your spine.

you shiver at his touch, nodding slowly. “the mirror?”

he has the audacity to blush. “caught my eye when we first came in here and i went with it.”

you touch his flushed cheek, brushing his hair out of his face. “i should tease you more often.”

he tries to give you a menacing look, but with half his face squished it doesn’t work very well. you both dissolve into giggles, and as he kisses you softly, you start thinking about what you can do next time to make him get the mirror again.

word count: 1,611

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craisinsensation1029 · 2 months

Text

Never Forgotten

Kento Nanami

originally posted on AO3! :) wrote this back in July for Nanamin's birthday :3 <3

Fem reader, established relationship, alcohol consumption, vaginal sex, cunnilingus, cream pie, slight breeding kink, very light bondage, Nanami dealing w a shitty day, its like, kinda sweet if u squint a bit, a little praise & degrading

4.6k

MDNI

Nanami looked down at you as you stirred in your sleep, cuddled securely into his side. Your arm was wrapped around his midsection and his was around your shoulder. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, as he reached for the remote to turn the television off.

You two had been dating for nearly ten months now. You hit it off after meeting through a mutual friend for a night out for drinks, and have been happy together since.

You two did have plans to move in together in a few months. Nanami owned a condo, and you still had some time before the lease on your apartment was up. This was the first major relationship either of you had been in, so it admittedly was a huge step, but both of you were prepared to take the plunge.

Until then you shared nights like these where you would come and sleep over. He loved having you over, seeing you move comfortably around the space as if it were your own.

Tonight was a bit different, as it was the night before his birthday. You two hadn’t spent one of his birthdays together yet, so he honestly didn’t know what to expect. Not that he was particularly a a person big on the occasion, seeing the day as just another year closer to retirement, but maybe you would make it different.

You were just that kind of thoughtful person that made everything worth celebrating. Hell, you baked him a cake when he told you he got another employee of the month award. You gasped when he shrugged lazily at the feat and sprinted to the kitchen. He told you it was really no big deal because he had so many, but all you did was narrow your eyes at him and told him he needed to be more excited he was being recognized for such diligent work.

He smiled at the memory as he pressed another kiss to your forehead.

He looked at the time on the clock. 3 minutes to midnight. He was unsure if you were supposed to spontaneously wake up out of your sleep with a song and dance, but there was nothing but silence to surround him when the clock struck midnight.

Your sleeping form was so serene, he wouldn’t dare disturb you. Instead, he repositioned your bodies by unhooking your arms from his waist and wrapping his around yours instead. You stirred again as he let out small sigh mumbling to himself, “Happy birthday to me.” He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

The same way you always fell asleep before Nanami, you always woke up before him. You were already somewhere in the condo when Nanami woke up. He was hopeful this was going to be a birthday to remember.

He went into the master bathroom to brush his teeth and got dressed for work. He never took the day off, because well, the retirement fund needed to be supplemented somehow. He took a look at himself in the mirror. Maybe he should have gotten a haircut a few days before, but no matter.

He walked out into the kitchen where you were sipping tea at the island. “Hey, good morning boo. Coffee’s in your mug.” You always made his coffee in the morning, just the way he liked it, but a wave of disappointment hit him. Was that it?

“Thanks, baby,” he answered, walking toward you to press a kiss to your lips. You kissed back. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. “Sleep well?”

“With you? Always,” you gushed, your soft hand landing on the side of his face. Wasn’t there anything else you wanted to say?

“Oh, good,” he nodded, his voice tight. “Uh, I guess I should get going then.”

“Already?” you pouted. “Do you have an early meeting or something? You didn’t even sit down and drink your coffee yet.” He loved spending mornings with you, drinking your hot beverages together while you entertained him recalling your always too wild and vivid dreams, but he couldn’t act like this wasn’t bothering him.

His girlfriend forgetting his birthday. His heart clenched, but he just tried to remember why he had never made it a big deal in the first place. It was just a day, he would just have to remind himself of that.

“Yeah,” he lied, opting to pour the coffee in the mug into his tumbler. “Email came in about earlier this morning. I wasn’t expecting it either,” he chuckled, but his laugh was strained. He was lying through his teeth, couldn’t you tell?

“Ugh, okay,” you groaned. “I got called into work tomorrow, so I probably won’t be around when you get home. But I’ll cook something for you to eat for dinner.”

Great. Even better. Now he would truly be spending the day alone. He cleared his throat before he spoke again, although he didn’t know what to say. He settled on, “Okay.” He swiftly placed his laptop in the bag before heading toward the door.

“I love you!” you called out behind him.

“Yeah, I love you too,” he said, just loud enough for you to hear as he pulled the door closed behind him.

The day Nanami was having would give A Series of Unfortunate Events a run for fucking money, and he was pissed off.

Not only did his morning start off with a lack of birthday wishes from you, but it was immiedtaely followed by some asshole deciding to go NASCAR speed on the residential street, a large puddle of last night’s rain drenching his slacks.

He stood on the train while a parent’s curious toddler had the gall to ask him if he was still potty training. He knew he couldn’t glare at a child, so he held on the the pole even more tightly as he ignored the kid who decided to ask the question again and again until he and his mother eventually got off at the stop before him.

The morning meeting he lied about turned out to be a very real meeting. If Nanami actually checked his emails that morning, he would have known. So there he was in the office with drenched slacks and fifteen minutes to prepare a presentation that he didn’t give a fuck about. After being able to throw something together, his supervisor thanked him for being so flexible, but informed the team the meeting was actually for next week. “I guess I made an oopsie!” he shrugged. Nanami left the conference room without a word.

The fire alarm went off in the building a few minutes before lunch was going to start. He groaned, reaching for his lunchbox so he could at least warm it up somewhere else, only to realize he was reaching for air. He fucking forgot it at home. He groaned again, knowing not only did he have to take a fuck ton of stairs down from the twenty seventh floor, but he would have to buy lunch from some overpriced, overcrowded shop.

Once he got to the town square, it was already bustling with a bunch of people trying to get food for the lunch hour. He was already too aggravated to deal with that shit. He opted to just get a croissant from his favorite bakery instead. Taking the short walk there, he clenched his fist seeing a white note on the door and the lights off. Walking closer, the note read, Closed for inventory today, see you tomorrow! He absolutely wanted to scream.

With only fifteen minutes left in the lunch hour, he trudged back to the office where the fire alarm had stopped going off, but they advised everyone to take the stairs for safety purposes. Safety his ass, he didn’t have anymore fucks to give, but there was no choice. Hungry, and more then fed up, he trudged up the stairs and threw his head back once he got back to his desk.

His phone went off and he pulled it from his pocket, smiling seeing a text from you. He unlocked it, his face falling upon reading your message. I just left. I made you some chicken alfredo and garlic bread for dinner :) i’ll be back on Saturday! I love you!! ♡

Was that really it? His phone was littered with other birthday wishes that he would get to in time, but that message from you may have actually just made his day worse. Thanks baby, I love you too , he replied anyway. He wanted to throw his phone across the room.

The rest of the day was equally annoying; too many conversations with people that couldn’t take a hint that he didn’t want to talk, emails that were about as useful as white ink on white paper, and hunger still gnawing at his stomach from his lack of lunch.

By time time it was five, his supervisor was sauntering over to his desk. Nanami visibly scowled, but that didn’t deter him at all. “Nanami!” he greeted. He already knew where this was going. Overtime today of all days, fucking great. “I guess I made another oopsie.” His supervisor began to explain how his incompetence was now Nanami’s problem, and an hour later he was seething when he left the office.

The elevators were still deemed unsafe to use, and he trudged down the stairs yet again. He was finally out of work, but there didn’t seem anywhere for him to go. He could have hung out with some other friends, but more than anything he wanted to be with you. He sighed, deciding to get on the train and pop into the bar by the house. Nothing like some greasy food and some alcohol to wash away the day.

He sat at the bar, waiting for the bartender’s attention. “Hey man, can I just see some ID?” Nanami fished his ID out of his wallet, flashing it to the worker. “Oh, happy birthday man! I got to give you some shots on the house!”

“Woo! Birthday boy!” a visibly drunk man next to Nanami whooped, clapping him on the back.

“Thanks,” Nanami muttered as the bartender immediately poured two shots of brown liquid in front of him. He didn’t know what they were, but he didn’t care. He threw them both back in quick succession, the liquid burning his throat all the way down. He scowled at the aftertaste as he pushed the empty shot glasses back toward the bartender.

“Naw, you’ve got to give him something a little smoother,” the man next to him said. He ordered four shots of something Nanami wasn’t famailar with, pushing two his way once the bartender had them all poured, He raised one, motioning for Nanami to do the same. “Happy birthday, man!” He threw it back, and then easily the other. It indeed did go down a lot easier than the other.

Four shots in a matter of less than ten minutes was probably not very wise. He ordered some sweet chili boneless wings and garlic parmesan fries for himself, along with a beer to sip on. He knew he would feel it later for sure, but who cares. He would be alone anyway. He ate the greasy food when it came out, his head already feeling heavy by the time he was done.

He paid his tab when the bartender asked, “You got far to go?”

“No,” he slurred. “I live right up the block.”

“Oh, then one for the road won’t hurt!” He poured Nanami a final shot, some clear liquid. He threw it back instantly. This one was smoother than his choice of dark liquor before. “You’ve got some hot ass waiting for you at home?”

“I wish,” he grumbled. “But thanks.” He bid adieu to the bartender and the man that was sitting next to him as he made the short walk home.

Perhaps he was a bit more fucked up than he realized, because he was absolutely struggling to get the key in the door. He took a breath and rested his forehead against the cool door. What was the rush anyway? Then again, he didn’t wan’t to be standing outside when what he needed was a shower and his bed. He fumbled with the door again, his efforts successful this time and pushed the door open.

He furrowed his brow, seeing a large Happy Birthday banner hung from the wall facing the door in the living room. Streamers and balloons hung from the walls, and he had to rub his eyes to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

Then you stepped into view from the kitchen, a large grin spreading across your face. You ran up to him, throwing your arms around his neck in glee. “Sorry, I went to go put the food back into the oven, I thought you were going to be back earlier!” You pulled back slightly to press a kiss against his lips. “Happy birthday!”

He was confused. Or drunk. Or maybe a little bit of both.

He took a small step back, taking in your appearance. You had one of his favorite dresses on, a short, strapless, floral print number that flared at the end with lettuce edges. It was perfectly form fitting, your breasts bouncing at the top as you walked, your figure that he loved accentured, and your ass he adored getting a handful of on display.

“Huh,” he said dumbly.

“Your birthday?” you laughed with a soft shake of your head. “You drunk? Is that why you took so long?”

He was stunned into silence.

“Aw, come on!” you pouted. “You couldn’t have possibly thought I forgot! Maybe my acting was a little too good…” you contemplated, but he couldn’t help but just stare at you, and then back at the decorations littering the space. Even the banner meant so much to him. He knew you couldn’t have possibly put that up without asking for someone’s assistance or using a ladder, both of which you hated doing. But you did it, for him.

He suddenly felt like an idiot for even thinking you could have forgot. For the first time today, a smile genuinely crossed his face. “Thank you, baby.” He pulled you tightly against him, hands immediately grabbing at your ass. Maybe the bartender had a premoniton on his behalf or something, because here you were, hot ass and all.

You playfully swatted his hands away opting to taking his hand in yours. “Come on, don’t you want to at least have dinner?” He was admittedly already full, and eating something else was the only thing occupying his mind now, but he let you pull him toward the kitchen anyway.

He was dumbfounded. The table was set with the good china you just insisted would only be used for important occasions.

He was an important occasion. He felt his heart swell.

Another birthday banner, and more streamers and balloons decorated the space. A small cake decorated with purple icing and sprinkles with Happy Birthday, Kento! scrawled in white frosting sat on the middle of the table. You grabbed some oven mitts and bent over to open the oven. The dress was short enough to see the meat on your ass cheeks, and all he could do was walk over and stand behind you, gripping the flesh. Maybe it was the alcohol, but his cock was already straining against his slacks.

“Kento, let me get this food out,” you giggled. He stepped back to give you some space and he instantly knew what was in the oven; it was one of his favorites, oven roasted lemon garlic chicken with potatoes. You walked over and placed the dish on the table, a bright smile on your face. “Maybe I should have said something earlier, I just wanted to surprise you.”

You strided toward him, your hand caressing the side of his face. He placed his hand over yours, closing his eyes and leaning into your touch. This is what he needed after today. You were what he needed. “I would never forget a day as important as this,” you whispered. “Do you really think I could forget my favorite person’s special day?”

“I was a bit silly for thinking you did,” he admitted, a laugh escaping his lips. “I was having a fucking shit day and thought I was coming home to an empty place.” You frowned, and he hated seeing you frown, especially on his behalf. “But that has nothing to do with you, baby. This is already the best birthday ever.”

You smiled softly, although your brow was still knitted. “Well we can talk about your day while we eat.” Your eyes quickly brightened again. “Oh! And I can give you your gift!”

He wasn’t interested in talking or receiving gifts right now. He never understood the rationale of people in movies and television shows pushing food and silverware off the table to ravish their partners, but it fully made sense to him now. He was only interested in having you bent over the table and rutting into you until you were creaming around his cock and crying out his name.

“That sounds great,” he mumbled, bringing you back to him. “But I’ll be very honest. Let’s get that food back in the oven for a bit. There’s something I need to do first.”

You were lost, but nodded nonetheless. “Oh okay, we can do that! It is your day, after all.” You gathered the dish with the chicken and walked back over to the oven to keep the meal warm. At the same time, Nanami was pushing the plates further up on the table.

You strolled back over to him, and he instantly smashed his lips against yours. One hand was grabbing your ass while the other was on the small of your back. One of your legs instantly rose while your arms wrapped around his neck, making any space between the two of you nonexistent. He felt bad for his breath that must have reeked of liquor, but the feeling faded when your tongue was pushing past his lips and exploring the inside of his mouth.

He gripped the material of your dress tighter, and if he didn’t like it so much he was afraid he would have ripped it off of you with his bare hands. He moaned against your lips as your hands shifted so your manicured nails were running through his undercut. Fuck, he loved when you did that. Your tongue continued to move inside of his mouth, and he moved his against yours. You always tasted just divine, savory and sweet at the same time, and man was he so blessed to be loved by someone as amazing as you.

Your tongue slowly exited his mouth and you began to nip at his bottom lip, eliciting another moan from him. He jerked his hips against you, his erection swelling by the second as his tongue began to explore your mouth. Your mouth was always so inviting and willing for him as your lips parted for him. He closed his eyes, enjoying the pure bliss of the moment. Hard to think he was having the seemingly worst day ever just a few hours ago when he was here now, his hand full of your ass and his tongue shoved deep down your throat surrounded by so many of his favorite things.

His tongue exited, and the kiss became sloppy as your bodies stayed melded together, but he wanted more now. He quickly spun you around and bent you over the kitchen table. He slapped your ass, watching it jiggle in the material of the dress. You mewled, and arched your back more, wiggling it in the air. He slapped it again, letting his hand massage to spot before pushing up the material.

He figured you had a thong on the way your cheeks were out when you bent over when taking the food out of the oven, but no. You weren’t wearing any underwear at all. “Were you expecting something, perhaps?” he asked, letting a finger swipe through your folds. You were already wet, but he knew he could have you soaking in a matter of minutes.

“Something like that,” you answered playfully. “Thought it would come a little later, but now works too.” Oh, you would be coming later too, but Nanami needed his fix now.

“You little slut,” he chuckled, sinking down to his knees behind you. “Acted like you forgot my birthday just to cook my favorite food and wait for me in my favorite dress with no panties on,” he tsked.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” you teased, wiggling your ass for him. “How could I ever make it up to you?”

Nanami just laughed as he brought his hand to your ass, kneading your cheeks again. “I can think of a few ways.” He spread your cheeks to look at what was his before letting his tongue swipe across your center, instantly moaning at your taste. He swiped his tongue through your folds again, letting his eyes close as your familiar taste infiltrated his tastebuds. Your moans were music to his ears as he continue to stroke your center with his tongue.

One hand reached around to circle your clit as his tongue began to push into you. You writhed against his face, and he loved it. His thumb and middle finger slowly stroked your clit as his tongue slowly and shallowly fucked you. “ Fuck, Kento, please,” you whined, arching your back more, giving him more access to your clit.

He always loved when you begged for him, despite how much he would tease you for it. His mouth left you, but his fingers were still working against your clit. “I thought you wanted to make it up to me?”

“I-I do,” you choked out. He could already feel your legs trembling, and you could be coming for him at any moment.

“Then either shut up or use your words,” he grunted, putting his mouth back on you. You moaned again, pushing back on his face while his tongue continued to lap at you. He was achingly hard now, and was pretty sure his dick could drill for diamonds in the mines.

He started to rub your clit more quickly, and you were falling apart. Your legs struggled to stay steady as your moans turned into desperate pants. “Please, need to come,” you begged.

“Oh, look who knows how to talk,” he chuckled, his voice muffled. But he would do just that. He swiped his tongue against you once more, and you cried out as your orgasm had your juices coating his face. He let out a moan of satisfaction at your release and stood quickly. You rose from your position of being bent over the table, to which he chuckled and bent you back over. “I’m not done,” he said, undoing the buckle on his belt.

He pulled the black leather through the loops on his slacks, using it to bind your hands behind your back. “That feel alright?”

“Feels great,” you answered. He could hear the amusement in your voice despite not seeing your face, and couldn’t help but shake his head.

“Naughty little bitch,” he murmured, admiring your exposed ass. “You were just dying to get fucked in this dress, huh? I guess this is a lucky day for you too.” In the blink of an eye, the button on his slacks were undone and his erection sprang free. He pushed down his boxers briefs and entered you quickly, hands positioned securely on your hips.

He groaned as your cunt hugged his cock. It simply didn’t matter how often you two fucked, and your sex life was pretty healthy. The first thrust never failed to make him want to come right on the spot. His pulled his hips back and slowly pushed inside of you, the veins of his cock dragging against your walls. You both let out moans simultenously as his hips developed a steady rhythm. He loved seeing your ass bounce against his hips; even more so now with your arms bound and seeing that all you could do was moan and take him like a good girl.

“Fuck Kento, more, more,” you cried out.

“Shit, okay, baby,” he groaned, wiping the sweat that was forming at his brow. He held onto your hips tightly as he started to slam into you roughly, shaking the table. You let out a yelp that was quickly followed by a moan, and he couldn’t help but bite his lip as he continued to pound into you like his life depended on it.

He could start to feel your pussy spasm around him, and used one hand to slap your ass. “Fuck, you look so good taking my cock like this,” he grunted, his hips still moving quickly. He was determined to give you the fucking that you wanted; the one you deserved for making sure he felt special, loved, and utterly cared for.

“Ah, Ahhh,” you cried out, helpless to do anything except for take the vicious pounding that you asked for. “W-want you to come in me,” you stuttered out against the creaking of the table.

If he weren’t so determined to keep thrusting, he would have stopped, and asked if that was what you really wanted, but fuck it. It was his fucking birthday, and he was going to stuff you like a twinkie. “I’ll fuck a baby into you tonight if that’s what you want,” he panted, continuing his onslaught.

You moaned again, and then he felt the telltale signs of your orgasm washing over you. You were obscenely wet with your juices coating his cock and running down your legs as your pussy violently clenched around him. He fucked you through your orgasm with slower thrusts until the wave of pleasure passed through you.

He undid the belt that kept you bound, and pulled his still hard cock out of you. He quickly hauled you up, spun you around, and sat you on the table. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed another kiss to his lips while he slid inside of you.

You whined at his entry with the sensitivity of your last two orgasms, but clenched around him. He kissed you back sloppily as he rutted his cock into you. He pulled down the dress to expose your breasts and you leaned back slightly so he could slip a nipple into his mouth. He sucked it hashly, letting his teeth bite down gently on the bud.

“Oh fuck Kento, that’s so good.” Your hand was soon coaxing his head in the other direction so he could do the same for the other. He obliged, sucking your other nipple into his mouth and giving it a small bite before letting his tongue trace the area around your areola.

His orgasm was fast approaching and he gripped your chin tightly, squeezing a thigh with the other hand. “Fuck baby,” he grunted. “I’m going to fill this pussy up real good.” You put your hand on his lower back, bringing him closer, and he was done for. He stilled and let out a pant as his seed spurted inside of you, coating your insides white.

He rested his forehead against yours, and you cupped his face with a smile, pressing a soft kiss to his nose with his cock still seated inside of you. “Happy birthday, boo.” You moved to press a kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.” Yeah, best birthday ever.

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mirukosbitchywife · 1 year

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hawks, miruko, fatgum, midnight and eraserhead x vigilante reader

REPOST the original one got flagged as s3xu4l content even tho it's just fluff :(

vigilante reader is tame basically acting as a pro hero just without the license, mainly focusing on saving people, and therefore none of the heros reallu care. no warnings just pure fluff

hawks/keigo takami:

-keigo would be a vigilante if he wasn't taken in by the commission. 100% he would not have stopped saving lives even if he got in trouble for it. he might even fuck around and manage to get you an actual hero license if you want one, even a fake one to get out of trouble if you need it

-basically. even as the number two hero he's no snitch and in fact really respects what you do. you guys probably met trying to save the same civilian or something and hit it off immediately

-he lets you follow him on patrols, absolutely no fucks. almost everyone thinks you're just one of his sidekicks and you basically act as one without the hero license. would just use his feathers to carry you away from any particularly hard ass heros (cough endeavor cough) if he needs to

-doesn't have a lot of friends but the ones he does have know all about you (including everything keigo gushes to them about you ugh) and they also don't care, they trust him as a person and a hero so by default they trust you

-probably also insists on training you but most of your spars end up in making out because he has no self control when it comes to you but you're not complaining

-end of day routine with keigo would def start with you two dancing in keigos living room, he just sweeps you up and starts dancing out of no where, doesn't even need music, the sound of you laughing at his antics is music enough for him, you've come to expect it every day when he comes home and it's one of the things you miss most when he's gone on a longer mission

-your rough days always end with you flying, even if you can fly using your own quirk, there's something about being held to the chest of the man you love while he flys through the night sky, placing unwavering trust in him to not let you fall while you admire the stars always makes your heart full, and for keigos rough days, you always preen his feathers, he's not used to anyone touching them besides his fans grabbing at him, so nothing relaxes him more than the feeling of your fingers in his feathers, straightening and adjusting them for him as you go

miruko/rumi usagiyama:

-is so aggressively supportive of the vigilante thing she'd see you out beating the shit out of a villain and be like BEAT THEIR ASS BABE GET EM

-insists on you training with her. if you want to be a vigilante you gotta be in shape enough to go toe to toe with the number 5 pro hero

-absolutely kicks your ass in training but it's okay bc she gives you kisses every time you win a match <3

-if you're not immediately recognizable as a vigilante she Will take you to the boring hero shit she has to go with. no one's willing to get close enough to you besides hawks, because if you're with her she'll glare down anyone who tries to approach her and hawks is the only one brave enough to get closer (she also trusts hawks the most out of all of them and knows hes no snitch)

-has a sixth sense for when you're in trouble, so if you're ever in over your head in the same city as her ur opponent better start praying

-on especially hard days for you, rumi gives a mean back massage that leaves you putty in her hands, on rumis hard days you always do her hair. she finds it so relaxing and loves the styles you do on her and will proudly wear whatever you did as long as she can

fatgum/taishiro toyomitsu:

-taishiro is just That Guy yk u guys probably met because he picked you up by your scruff during a fight you were losing and he jumped in all heroic like *swoons*

-him being That Guy /pos and all his only reaction after dealing with the villain is to put you down and be like woah. hello person i have never seen in my life before this very second right now. you should hurry along i don't want any civilians caught in the cross hairs when the police arrive. anyway random stranger i've never seen ever you should totally come by my hero agency and train in case you know. you get caught close to another villain attack

-guys got a heart proportional to the rest of him how could you not do anything for him he's sunshine personified. if he said jump you'd ask how high he's just got that affect

-he's probably the most chill pro hero aside from like. aizawa. you know how like the bigger the dog the more chill they get (usually). yeah same affect with him he minds his business stays in his lane does heroic deeds on the reg yk

- his favorite thing to do with you is spend time with you laying on top of him <33 he usually takes up all the space on wherever he's lying but no complaints can be heard when you get to cuddle on top of him all night

-end of day routine with taishiro would pretty much be him coming home from work, flopping on the couch, and dragging you to lay on top of him to doze until the food he ordered arrives (even if you wanted to there's no way you could cook for tai after work, you'd have a hard enough time cooking for Any pro hero let alone one who's quirk is dependent on food)

-your rough days usually entail you crawling inside his shirts to be closer to him (in my mind his clothes are probably usually baggy because they need to be able to withstand his full size and after a day at work he'd probably be at least somewhat smaller) and him allowing you to curl up on him like a cat (he probably also pets ur hair like a cat but we don't need to mention that), his rough days probably entail something like baking treats together!! he seems like the kind of guy who really really enjoys quality time with a s/o and combining that with food? his bad day melts away immediately

midnight/nemuri kayama:

-honestly you're probably not even the first vigilante she's dated, if there's one thing nemuri is gonna do it's whatever the fuck she wants lmao

-she's def the type of person to be like rules are meant to be broken

-nemuri LOVES going out with you, you better pray you don't have a recognizable face because there's no way you're getting out of going out to dinner and her dragging you shopping and her showing you off any chance she gets(not that you'd want to get out of that stuff i mean. it's nemuri)

-nemuri prefers working night shifts even when not working at ua so she can force you to take a break when she takes hers and she always packs you food <3

-she also prefers night shifts so you both can protect each other, shadowing one another in case one of you gets over your heads, the other one never being too far

-she probably has a lot of cats and by default they're your cats so usually while nemuris gone at ua you're playing with her cats. (nemuri probably has hundreds of pictures of you with a cat on top of you after you fell asleep)

-her favorite time of day is when you're both home and sweaty from fighting, your end of day routine always starts with taking a bath together, washing grime off the other, using the tenderness to reset your minds after a long day

-she loves to pamper you, do your nails, face masks, anything you want ,and uses her quirk slightly on you after a particularly rough day, and for her rough days you always make sure she gets a foot massage and glass of wine with a book <3

eraserhead/shouta aizawa:

-same shit different day yeah? he probably mostly has vigilante friends if we're honest (aside from hizashi and nemuri of course)

-is definitely used to dealing with vigilantes both a professional and unprofessional sense, nothing you can do will shock him, and you can always count on him to save your ass when things go south, it's like he has a second quirk with the way he's able to sense when you're either about to do something stupid or about to die. usually both.

-you guys patrol at night together, you both prefer working when you know the other is somewhere nearby in case things go south, and more often than not you take cases on together (although Technically it's just him on the paperwork)

-omg what if you guys meet because he saw you feeding a cat and snuck up on you only for you to. notice him? holy shit?? you could sense his presence?? he was flabbergasted. that like never fucking happens

-end of day routine is you bullying him into a shower with you and him making you wash his hair as payment. literally a fucking cat. we both know he wouldn't shower after patrol alone he'd just go to sleep.

-your rough days always end up with you in a caterpillar looking ass sleeping bag with shouta but you'd have it no other way. his rough days are full of cat cafes. they just relax him like nothing else

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disneyprincemuke · 6 months

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midnights, 4 * mv1

you’re woken up in the middle of the night in cold sweat and max’s name at the tip of your tongue

pairings: max verstappen x reader

warnings: sad again :(

notes: i’m almost at 2k followers!!! i’ll be doing a sleepover event soon, so do look out for that!!!

(prev) // (next)

it feels so real, the way his hands are cupping your cheeks with his thumbs rubbing circles against the skin. “my darling.”

“max.” you come out in a whisper, your hands clutching onto his wrist. “don’t go.”

“i wouldn’t ever dare.”

wouldn’t ever dare.

that’s the words that woke you in a jolt, met by the darkness and stillness of your own bedroom. you stay in your position for a little bit, the weight on your chest making is slightly harder to breathe.

the effort to steady yourself is constant, but slow. there’s a tingling sensation where you think he last touched you, on your cheeks and by your neck. your lips are numb that you have to graze your fingers over it to make sure you’re really awake.

you exhale shakily, finally turning over to your side. you sigh and snuggle your face into the blanket. the picture frame of max kissing your cheek stands tall. it was his championship race from the 2022 season, right before he left the garage to start the race.

you couldn’t bear the thought of putting this one down. it had been a special moment with him, the thought of winning back to back championships seemed so silly in the beginning.

max doesn’t haunt your dreams often, even when you’d been pining for him. watching the championship sprint race wasn’t the best idea. you’d fallen asleep on the couch before it started and woke up with max’s face zoomed in on the screen.

it took everything in you not to send him a message, congratulating him on a win that was undisputedly his. every fibre of self control not to give him a call and ask him how everything has been.

you were curious yourself how the sprint had gone — you watched clips of him after the race looking drained. it almost brought you to his contact to call him, drowning him with questions laced with concern.

you wanted to be the one to press the cold towel to his forehead and essentially wipe him dry of his sweat.

you felt like a stranger to his life, and it’s killing you. you don’t know if he’s celebrating the championship with some other girl on his arm, sharing a tradition that only you two were aware of.

you can’t help but wonder if his champagne flavoured lips has been tasted by another woman and it makes your stomach churn at the thought of someone else having that luxury. a luxury that you seem to have dismissed too easily during your relationship.

but you realise it’s not really your problem, now that he’s just another ex-boyfriend; you’re just another ex-girlfriend.

your phone lights up on the nightstand, illuminating the picture frame. a small smile stretches your lips when you catch a glimpse of his lips smushed into your cheeks. not knowing what max is up to almost drives you crazy when you let it get to your head.

you now know nothing of the person you knew everything about.

it’s a bigger change than anyone cares to elaborate after a breakup. it’s a lot harder to deal with, but it’s something nobody ever talks about.

they tell you about the crippling pain of losing the love of your life and how empty the bed will feel without them. but nobody ever tells you how directionless and painful it will be when you feel yourself start to become a mere memory to them.

you slide your phone off your nightstand, reading the notifications that flooded your phone. you hadn’t expected anyone to be texting you so late, but you remember that half of the people you know are in another timezone.

danny ❧ not here for championship weekend? :( ❧ oh nevermind :/

the texts were 3 hours apart. you’re guessing that somewhere between those two messages, max had confessed about what happened.

alexandra ❧ did u text him?? ❧ it’s ok if u did…

but you still didn’t feel like talking to anybody. you drop the phone behind you and close your eyes.

a shaky breath passes your lips, max’s face flashing for a second — the face he makes when he’s across the room at a function and he spots you in the crowd unexpectedly. it’s very gentle and you can almost see the love oozing out of him when you’d caught it.

you open your eyes. you turn to your other side, now facing the empty half of your bed. you stretch your arm out and try to imagine the feeling of max next to you.

you try to remember what it felt like to be cuddled into his chest with his strong arm wrapped around your back. but it’s been so long since you’d been in such an intimate position with him, even before the relationship had come to its end.

sleep never came that night, the image of your love creeping up every single time you kept your eyes closed for too long. the sun had risen before you fell into a slumber, but max never left your mind even then.

taglist: @merchelsea @leclercdream @labelledejourr @laneyspaulding19 @lpab

#YOOOO #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfiction #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #formula 1 fanfic #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke f1

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4izawas · 6 months

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

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

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

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

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

— 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 !!

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

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

Well. Almost without that risk.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God. Joke really did have to fuck up everything.

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

Fine.

You narrow your eyes. “Talk.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You always were such a good girl for him.

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t know?”

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

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

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

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

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

Silence.

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

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

He still doesn’t lock eyes with you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re the one to break the silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I wasn’t asking permission.”

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

God, he was exhausted.

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

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

Who needs an alarm clock when you have a cat?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fucking why, Tofu?!”

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

You grin and get back to work.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was panning out to be a long week.

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