#thank u for ur sweet words but i have to delete ur request lmao | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aliveinacoffin · 11 months

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request ❤️

Not sure if you would do this but aizawa yandere! Maybe where the reader said something to him that made him angry and hurt them (the punishment) and he hurt himself in the process (like he punched them so hard or something and his hand started swelling). Then he just left them until he cooled down and then gave them food and came hours later and the food was untouched and they haven’t moved either and it turns out they were unconscious. (Something like that). If ur not comfortable to do this then u can delete this. Thank u!

Ofc! This seems so morbid and I love it lmao (this ended up being way longer than I wanted it too,,,,like over 2k words,,,, oopsie)

With my whole heart

He's the one who brought you into this hell hole and stole your life away, yet you're the one to blame.

GN!Reader, since you didn't specify the gender, I hope that's okay! :D TW: Violence, Yandere, mentions of stalking, brief mentions of kidnapping/drugging, brief mentions of non-con, manipulation, and overall toxicity

It's been six months.

Six fucking months since you've seen your family, since you've had any autonomy decisions over yourself, since you've even been outside.

The person to blame? Shouta fucking Aizawa.

You had met him by chance during one of his patrols, and at first you two had hit it off.

___________________________________________

"You shouldn't be out this late at night. It's dangerous for someone like you." A gravelly voice called from behind you, startling you terribly.

You turned around, shaking in your spot and clutching at your purse. Your quirk activated on the spot, adrenaline jumpstarting your sharp nails and teeth. You relaxed when you saw Ereaserhead, the Eraserhead! He wasn't a very known hero, as were most underground heroes. But somehow word of his existence had found itself in your corner of the world, and stories of him just followed you, and each time you couldn't help but marvel at how cool he was.

"Ah! You startled me Ereaserhead." You laughed gently, hand clutched at your chest. Your smile was wide, your eyes crinkled, you were the face of beauty in the pale moonlight.

"I apologize. Do you need an escort home?" He asked, keeping his distance from you.

"Oh I'm quite alright, my apartment isn't far from here." You waved him off, holding up your oversized fleece sweater. The warm spring air providing enough warmth for you to wear such things, the leftovers of winter still nipped at your exposed flesh. Even though you couldn't see his eyes from his goggles, you could feel his eyes raking over your exposed shoulders.

"You live around here? In such a dangerous neighborhood? This is no such place for a person like you." Ereaserhead shook his head, hands clutching onto his capture weapon. He stepped towards you, coming to rest just by your side. "I'll walk you home, it will put me at ease knowing you get home safe."

You blushed and hoped he wouldn't be able to feel or see the heat on your face. He was being so kind! No wonder he was such a great hero, he seemed to always go the extra mile.

"Oh, thank you, sir. It's nice to know such kind heroes are roaming the streets." Your voice was sweet, and you gave him a kind smile.

___________________________________________

You should have said no. You should have screamed and ran the other way.

Of course, you couldn't blame yourself for that. How could you have possibly known? There was no way you could've foreseen that such a monster was hiding under that demeanor. A monster who would three months later cut your family off from you, run off all your friends, and would drug, kidnap you, and keep you hidden deep in the fucking woods.

He had been kind, just like any abusive partner was at first.

___________________________________________

You heard a familiar and comforting dark voice call out your name, and as per usual you turned around with a smile on your face and curious eyes.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were following me Ereaserhead." You teased, waiting for him to catch up to you.

He pulled down his goggles, and you saw his eyes squint for a mere second before they went back to his usual bored expression. "I wouldn't do something as heinous as that." He said simply, not even looking at you while he said so.

"Oh I know, I'm just teasing. What's a hot shot like you doing around here?" You gestured to the rather lively city around you. Usually, the man was stationed around filth-ridden parts of the town. He patrols in the epicenter of crime, being one of the few skilled pros that could easily take down his foes.

"Just following my patrol route, they put me here today." Ereaserhead replied, slightly shrugging his shoulders. His hands stuffed deep into his pockets as he scanned the area like a hawk.

"Well, you must feel out of your element. Oh!" You gasped suddenly, leaving over to rummage around in your bag. Spring was steadily approaching, and the humid air was not kind. Tonight you were wearing a simple black tank top with simple black shorts. If you had taken a second to look up while you were searching, you would've seen the other man slowly rolling his eyes all over your body.

"I got you a gift!" In your outstretched hands was a tiny black cat doll, with black button eyes and a tiny tail. "I saw it and it reminded me of you, and I knew I just had to get it."

Eraser took a hand out of his pant pocket and grazed his hands with yours as you passed along the simple token of joy. It was made out of some cheap fabric, with even cheaper big button eyes. His face melted a bit, and the barest hint of a smile could be seen on his face.

"If you don't like it, I don't mind. I know it's kind of a bad gift, but I just couldn't help myself." You giggled nervously, hand coming up to scratch at the back of your head.

"While I don't condone such frivolous spending habits, I'm glad you got it thinking of me." He nodded in your direction while stuffing the little cat in his front pocket.

Your heart leaped with glee, shoulders bunching together in happiness. "I'm glad you like it Eraser." Your shit-eating grin pointed at him, slightly nudging him with your elbow.

"You can call me Aizawa." He said, and you were caught off guard at his words. Most people knew pros' real names, but underground heroes were in a different category. He must really trust you if he was willing to give you a piece of personal information with you! Before you could say anything in retaliation, he cut you off. "I'm assuming I'm walking you home like always?" He asked, peeking at you with humor in his voice.

"Like always." You don't know when, but during this habit both your arms always found each other interlocked. So you happily tottered to his side, easily slotting your arm in between his.

___________________________________________

You wished you denied all those walks home. You should've started to throw away all the gifts that had then thereafter started showing up on your front door. You shouldn't have done a lot of things, because all those little 'harmless' things had added up to one very dangerous thing. Still.

There's no use mourning the past anymore.

You had gotten used to this lifestyle, living as Shouta's personal slave. Living trapped in the hellhole he called your home. Doing his laundry, cleaning for him, and doing whatever the hell he wanted out of you.

It's not like you really had a choice anywhere. Where were you gonna go when he wanted to put himself on top of you? Who could you turn to when he got too rough with you during a fight? Nowhere. No one.

At this point, you had almost completely accepted him. He'd done inviting from physically hurting you to mentally torturing you. Shouta Aizawa had nearly broken your will.

But the key word here was nearly.

You'd always been as strong as you were kind. Most people mistook kindness for naivety or weakness, but while those two could go hand in hand, they were not interchangeable.

And today was just one of those days where you did not want to deal with his shit. Where you weren't willing to.

These were the thoughts you had while angrily cooking up spaghetti, the poor ingredients being the victims of your warpath. Angrily you threw the box down on the counter, almost shattered the can of source on the counter, and nearly dented the pot while getting water for you to boil. You couldn't help it, it's not like you could just go up to Shouta and hit him. Fuck, you could barely push the man. You quickly learned he was very lean and dense under all those baggy clothes.

Lost in your spiraling anger, you didn't notice a shadow grow over you.

You turned around, and when you saw the very man you were having thoughts of killing you almost dropped the pot full of water.

"Jesus christ you startled me, you need to wear a bell or something." You gasped, quickly turning away from him, trying to escape his grabbing hands.

It never mattered though, since he managed to grab your waist anyway, pulling you flush against his body. You sighed and tried to elbow him off. "I'm busy." That was all you said, temper already short.

"Why are so upset? Did you see something on the news?" Shouta asked, and you heard the annoyance creeping up in his voice. Somewhere, in the self-preserving part of your brain told yourself to drop the attitude and comply. To stop being so aggressive and be the perfect fuck doll he wanted. To stop. To just stop fighting. To give up.

But for some reason, today was not the day you would.

"No, I didn't. I was just reminded that I can't go outside, and to make up for the lack of sun I get, I have to take a fucking vitamin every day to make sure I don't get sick. From not going outside on the goddamn porch." You answered, bitterness lacing every word you spat at him. But even though your words were directed at him, your back was faced away from him. You couldn't see the mounting anger in his face, or his fists clenching the more you went on.

Suddenly, you were forcefully turned around, your back leaning over the steadily heating stove. One of Shouta's large hands found itself grasping at the top of your head, pulling at the hair that was there.

"Enough. I give everything to you all these months and you're still ungrateful. What have I told you about the attitude?" He growled, eyes glowing red and hair floating up. At this point in this fucked up relationship, you didn't know if he was activating his quirk because he didn't want you to hurt him, or because it was just a reflex he had when he was extremely pissed off.

Fear wracked your body for a moment before your brain just shut off. "Fuck. You. I hate you-"

You felt a thunderous pain on the side of your face, hot and heavy on the right side of your face before your whole world blacked out on you.

___________________________________________

Shouta sighed, trying to expel all the anger that had been left over. He had promised himself he'd no longer get violent with you since he didn't want you to be afraid of him. So far, that had been fine, you had slowly but surely accepted your role here without many hitches in the road.

He looked down to your form on the floor and rolled his eyes thinking you were just being dramatic. He heaved you up without much look at you and flopped you on the couch. "You know I hate hitting you, and I'm so sorry, I just hate hearing you talk to me that way." He admitted as if that atoned his past sins. Shouta huffed in annoyance when he didn't get an answer, assuming you were just giving him the silent treatment again. He walked away to finish the dinner you had started.

His hand hurt like a bitch the whole time, and the man realized he had busted one of his knuckles.

Shit.

He must've hit you harder than he wanted. Nonetheless, you endured worse from him. You'd live.

"I brought you your food, I hope you like it." He muttered, setting it down on the coffee table in front of your laying form. Shouta waited for you to say something, and he called your name in mounting annoyance. He reached a large hand to touch your shoulder, but as soon as he came into contact, you quickly jerked away from him. Shouta sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Fine, be that way. You'll see you need me." He turned to disappear in his study, having paperwork to process for the next day.

___________________________________________

The sun was setting by the time he was done, looking at the clock it had been hours since the dinner incident. Confusion crept into his mind, he would've heard you bustling in the kitchen by now, or you would've come in to apologize at the least.

But you hadn't done either of those things. Shouta got up and trekked down the hallway, and peeked into the living room. You were still paying on the couch, in the same position as he had left you in. His stomach dropped when he saw your food lay untouched.

He quickly made his way to you and rolled you onto your back. His grip tightened on your shoulder in shock when he saw your unconscious form.

Your cheek was completely swollen and red, the upper part of your cheekbone already fading into the telltale bluish hue of a bruise.

Fuck.

Shouta's heart and mind raced as he cradled your head, instantly checking your pulse. He sighed in relief when he felt your heart still beating steadily, and when he checked your breaths coming in a slow even rhythm.

Guilt instantly ate him up inside, as well as self-hate and disgust. Shouta never intended to hurt you this badly, your vile words undeserving of such a harsh punishment.

"I'm sorry, you're fine, I'm sorry." He slowly rocked you as his eyes slowly welled up with tears.

Shouta loved you with his entire being. The only reason his heart beat was to beat for you. He only breathed and lived for you. He only ate to make sure he felt well enough to talk to you, only drank water to make sure he could talk to you. He took more naps at work so he could be awake longer around you. He kidnapped you to make sure you were safe with him forever.

But a sick, tiny part of his brain told him you deserved it. He gave you everything you could ever want, devoted his entire being and life to you, and still, you said such hurtful words to him.

Either way, you'd be fine, you'd get up and you'd both apologize to one another.

But one of you would be more sorry than the other.

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petesvodka · 3 years

Text

doubt

request from anon - hey! i love ur writing so much 🥺

i was wondering if u could do something fluffy with pete as a dad?thank u so much💟

word count - 900

warnings - i don't believe there to be any :)

pairing - dad!pete x mom!reader

a.n. - i cannot tell you how much time i spent writing and deleting and rewriting only to delete that too lmao. i dunno, maybe im just overthinking shit, but the only way for me to know for sure is with criticisms! so please, please, please if you have any thoughts on this story after reading it, let me know <3

pete's definitely fallen out of the habit in recent years, but he used to always be an early riser.

he loved telling you his favorite things about the morning, how he embraces the way the earth seems to shake off the night and stretch into the warm hope of the day. how he always meant to personify the night and day but never managed to string a sentence together sound right enough to put to paper.

you'd laugh gently and tell him he was never one for cliches, because there isn’t a single writer alive who hasn’t tried to bring that battle to life. he'd just smile and shake his head, look back towards the city, and begin to walk as he twirled a piece of brittle grass between his fingers.

but all of that was so long ago, you realize. a sweet memory, ivy-held in a long-forgotten cavern of your mind.

in more recent times, pete stays up late to care for the baby while you rest. he assures you he likes it better this way, having sealed his promise with a warm kiss.

"i think of it like lil adventures between me n' the kid, y'know?" he'd tells you with a smile plastered on his face. seeing the way he had smiled and the way his eyes had flickered with happiness, you knew to believe him, to believe that he was genuinely enjoying the late nights shared between just him and the baby.

late nights where pete would sing or hum various different songs while driving, chasing after the moon through forest-lined roads with the baby in the back. car rides always seemed to lull the baby to sleep. even when the pain from teething overwhelmed them both, when the baby would wail in distress and pete could feel his heart shattering within his chest, driving was always the immediate go-to to soothe the both of them.

slightly later on in life, when the baby has sprouted into a toddler, pete found himself commonly walking to the closet to retrieve paints and papers, never bothering to bring brushes.

the two of them loved finger painting and, while you weren't exactly in love with the mess paint-covered hands had the tendency to create, you loved watching them and the way they interacted.

plus, more often than not, you'd end up with a specially-made piece of art from both of your loves, which usually more than made up for whatever mess ended up at your kitchen table. he was always so, so gentle, which was to be expected given he thought of your child as the most precious thing his hands have held, although you do come in at a very close second.

when the baby reaches preschooler age, they become obsessed with all things animal-related, meaning the three of you often find yourselves spending family-time at the zoo, where pete finds joy in reading aloud the descriptions of the animals to a pair of very eager-to-learn ears sat up high on his shoulders, where they could better see whichever animal in its encloser.

there are nights, however, when the moon is high and the kid is fast asleep, where pete is quiet as he expresses his uncertainties of fatherhood to you.

he tells you parenting books can only take you so far, which you can't help but agree with. there's never going to be a book that perfectly prepares you for all things parenthood, that you're both sure of.

but having lost his father at such a young age, there's this "instilled insecurity" as he calls it, where he remains unsure of whether or not he's being a good dad, almost constantly doubting his parenting skills.

you take his hand gently into your own, beginning to explain away some of your own uncertainties, reminding him that he's not alone in this.

within an instant, something simply flicks on in his brain and he lunges at the chance to tell you what a truly amazing mother you are; how endlessly you amaze him with your ability to soothe and settle your kid- even on the most restless of nights, how you always seem to have a solution to whatever issue may arise, how lucky your kid is to have you as a mother and how lucky and thankful he is to have you as a partner- you have to kiss him to shut him up, otherwise he'd go on all night about how wonderful of a mother and partner you are.

when you tell him that he just put to words exactly how you feel about him, his mind and heart settle some. he knows you're right; knows he can trust the words you speak and that he can find genuine security in them.

the anxiety and fear of being a bad father will most likely always haunt his mind, but as long as he has you to help chase away the doubt, he knows things will be alright. after all, he knows with you around, how could things be anything but?

#finished request!#family man pete #pete davidson x you #pete davidson x reader #pete davidson #pete davidson concept #fluff #i think this might be my least favorite story ive written just because of how iffy it feels lmao #which isnt to say anything about the lovely person who requested this!#if anything #i just hope they like it #mars writes

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