#Bc he was convinced he’d be fired for not being able to talk | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

realcube · 3 years

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haikyuu!! boys’ reactions to you speaking 💗 uwu💗

characters: tsukishima, ushijima, yaku, kenma & iwazumi

thank you anon for this cute request 💕 idk what i just wrote but i had fun 👍

IWAIZUMI & KENMA’S ARE AGED UP! MUTURE THEMES - MINORS DNI

tw// fluff, swearing, uwu language, cwinge

kenma’s hcs tw// sexual themes, implied switch!reader, phone sex(?), mentions of a blowjob, mentions of punishment

iwaizumi’s hcs tw// breeding kink, fem!reader, orgasm denial

Kei Tsukishima

you realised he didn’t like it so you did it just to annoy him LMFAO

he was scrolling through tiktok and a girl popped up on his fyp talking like that, so he snarled and immediately flicked it away, muttering something along the lines of ‘why do people speak like that? do they think it’s cute? ‘cause it’s really not; it’s just embarrassing.’

so you wasted no time in responding, ‘sowwy? what was that?’

HELL 👏 FIRE

his blood literally ran cold, he was aware that you liked taking the piss but he didn’t expect you to do it to this extent

‘what did you just say?’ he murmured, silently praying that he had just misheard you

you rolled your eyes before scoffing ‘nothing.’ you deepened your voice, just playing around at this point tbh

tsukishima hummed in agreement, deciding not to inquire further as he figured that he must’ve heard the echo of the girl’s voice in his head rather than yours

so he was just about go back to scrolling until he heard you coo in a high-pitched from behind him, ‘tsukishima is a lil’ bitch.’

‘(Y/N), FUCKING STOP!’ he let a throaty scream at you

‘you’re so boring, tsukki-’ you spoke, quickly cutting yourself off so you could switch to your uwu voice, ‘or should I say; bowing.’

you said, hopeful that your voice would make it clearing that you meant ‘boring’ rather than the act of playing an instrument with a bow

‘go to hell.’ he grumbled, trying his best to tune you out by pulling his headphones over his ears

‘babe~’ you purred, shuffling over to him and peppering kisses along the nape of his neck as you were feeling extra evil today, ‘wuv you~’

‘jail.’ tsukishima simply stated as he switched over to Spotify so he could blare some Mother Mother to drown out the sound of your voice

the worst part was that he couldn’t even tell if he liked it or not PFFT

like it was cute but the fact you weaponised it against him annoyed him

but you were also giving him kithes so he couldn’t exactly complain 💞

Morisuke Yaku

ok don’t even lie yaku does a variant of the uwu voice whenever he’s trying to insult kuroo IUGBEIGVA

it’s something like ‘aww, kuwoo, does your lil’ undewdeveloped bwain not undewstand algebwa?’ but in a mocking way yk?

so when a he watches a lil’ tabby cat approach you on the street, then you busted out the uwu voice that he had never heard before- he was taken aback

at first he was like ‘woah why are you making fun of that cat?’ bc he always associated that voice with ridicule LMFAO

but when he processed all the nice things you were saying he realised that you were being nice lol

so then he was like ‘awwww 🥺 (y/n) + cat = SO FKN CUTE!! 💕💗💖’ *click click* and he just starts taking photos

he probably puts them on his private story with the caption ‘their an angel 😍’

(then kuroo probably replies with ‘they’re*’) (don’t ask why yaku put him on his private story ✋)

anyway, he’s probably so fond of the voice too like ofc he thinks it’s cute

bc it’s a lil’ kitten and you’re talking to it in a high-pitched voice as if it can understand you SO FKN CUTE

he’s not too effected by it tho- it’s mostly how well you get on with the cat that he really admires

then he couched down beside you to talk to the cat too and y’all had a whole conversation with it in uwu

‘aww, look! are you hungwy, baby?’ you asked the cat as it licked the back of it’s paw

‘i think, it is!’ yaku continued, aware that if anybody from school caught him doing this, he’d pass away on the spot but what can he say? he’s soft for you (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

‘i have some blueberries in my bag, you can have some if you say please.’ he told the cat

you were both met by the cat’s blank - but adorable - stare, accompanied by silence until the kitten let out a faint, ‘mew’

‘AWWWWWW!!! 💞💕💖🥺👏 ’ you both squealed in unison, impressed by the kitten’s response

‘it understands us!’ you gasped while applauding the cat for it’s excellent communication skills

‘the voice must work!’ yaku concluded as he scrambled to throw his bag off his back and rummage through it in search of the tub of blueberries

you nodded, watching in awe as yaku pulled out the tub to carefully pick out the plumpest berries and feed them to the cat

yaku noticed your expression out of the corner of his eye and chuckled, ‘what?’

‘you’re so cute.’ you snickered, lighting bopping his nose with your index finger as he continued to allow the cat to feed out of the palm of his hand

a furious blush immediately covered his cheeks as he hastily turned his head away to hide it - in a typical anime fashion, ‘be quiet.’

Kenma Kuzome

it’s a sex thing-- it’s 100% a sex thing

a kink perhaps?

ngl he loves it when you do the voice in bed

like don’t ask why it turns him on so much

he’s weak for you whenever you do the voice tbh

BUT it’s only hot when you do it

when any other person does it - especially if it’s over text - he literally gags 🤢🤢🤢

when a streamer he watches does the voice, he’s just thinks ‘ew ✋ that isn’t cute. pls stop.’

but when you do it- boner alert pfft

especially when you moan in that voice yES HE LOVES THAT

you just execute it in a way these other bitches just can’t, okay? 💅 IUERBGFERIBG

he doesn’t mind putting the voice on sometimes if you like it when he does it but he’s really embarrassed by it 🙈

he’ll try to say something in the voice while you’re rearranging his guts for a change and you’re praising him like 👏👏👏 ‘awh, precious kenma bb.i love that voice on you, i might just let you cum early--’

and he’s fucking groaning from pain, pleasure and humiliation

‘never again.’ was the single coherent thought he could form

you’re only giving like 20% of the time but if you happen to giving on a day that you’re feeling especially evil, you might make him do the voice in exchange for orgasm privileges

but he gets you back for it though

you’d call him, whining and pleading for him to help you with the throbbing between your legs or at the very least, give you permission to touch yourself

but considering that the day prior, you had tortured his ass to the point were he was now struggling to sit down, ofc he was just like ‘no ❤’ when you ask for his assistance

even after your continuous begging, he didn’t budge

‘don’t you dare put your hands on yourself until i get home. i’m leaving right now so i should be back in half an hour but if you keep pestering me like a little bitch, then i’ll be sure to go extra slow on the highway.’

although, for kenma ‘extra slow’ is probably the speed limit lmao

(istg he drives like he’s in mario kart)

however, half an hour was just too long 😩 i mean, you had probably been on call with him for 5 minutes already and it took you 20 minutes to get him to pick up the phone so by now, you were clearly on the brink of madness

‘kitten~’ you whined, desperately trying to think of a way to convince kenma to aid you

then you remembered; his weak spot

‘pwease, baby?’ you softened and raised the pitch of your voice

kenma perked up as he realised what you were trying to do, the tips of his ears burning, ‘don’t bother to try that with me, (y/--’

‘i’ll suck you off when you come back.’ you promised, keeping the voice on, the aching getting worse and worse by the second

kenma was now partially able to relate to your circumstance as he began to feel a straining of his own, between his legs at your cutesy tone along with the image of the last time you blew him tormenting his mind

‘whatever. but only use your hands. i can tell when you use a toy so don’t even try; or else i’ll dick you down ‘til the sun rises- okay bye.’

atm the moment, that hardly sounded like a punishment but then you reflected back on how you’d be crying for a mercy after the fourth round with kenma so- yeah

anyway, moral of the story, if you perform the voice well enough, it’s basically kenma’s weakness so use it wisely

Hajime Iwaizumi

you first did the voice in front of him while you had a friend’s baby in your arms and you were trying to communicate with it

it kinda looked like

you: hewwo babyy~ who’s the most precious thing? you are!

the baby: 🤠

the parent: 🙂

iwa: 😶

iwa ON THE INSIDE: breeding kink go brrrr 😩 i want to put a baby in her so bad- she’ll scream my name in that fucking voice tonight

and he was right

cut to him pounding you while demanding that you say his name in ✨the voice✨ or else you won’t be allowed to cum

ofc you had too much pride for that so you just let him dick you down and cum whether he likes it or not but he could tell that was the plan you had in mind so he suddenly pulled out just as you were about to reach your high

he looked at you with a mean scowl, ‘fucking say it or i’ll stop right now.’

if he were to stop, it would kinda be a punishment for him too but he didn’t care- anything to see his lovely gf suffer tbh 😇

also he could get off to you fingering yourself, struggling to orgasm- he’s done it before and he’ll gladly do it again if you don’t say his damn name

‘iwa..’ you groaned, gripping at the sheets as you anticipated him sliding his cock back into you

‘in the voice.’ iwaizumi reiterated, delivering a hard smack to the side of your thigh out of annoyance

you hissed at the sharp impact , gulping to lubricate your dry throat before choking out in your best imitation of the voice he desired, ‘iwa~’

he was only half-satisfied with what you uttered but i mean, it got the job done

his dick was throbbing, practically begging for the comfort of your warm cunt once again so he hastily slipped back in, letting out a low groan as he did so

so he’d continue hammer you from behind, probably muttering incoherent things about your babies and your voice while doing so but you chose to pay little attention to it as you couldn’t help but focus on your own intense pleasure

once he finally climaxed, he did it inside you which you wasn’t surprising as y’all had already established that you love being being filled up and he loves filling you up 💕

but then he insisted that y’all go for another few rounds to increase the chance of pregnancy

like- sir-

you didn’t have the heart to tell him that you were on birth control

bc surely......he would’ve known

but he didn’t

you eventually told him that you had no interest in coming off birth control and he wasn’t mad LMAO he didn’t even want a baby tbh he was just caught up in the moment

yeah no but if you do the voice again, the cycle will continue

Wakatoshi Ushijima

you were both hanging out in your bedroom, doing your own things, and you were sending your friend a (video) snap so you ironically used the uwu voice

ofc this caught his attention so he shifted his gaze off of his revision sheets and onto you, shooting you a weird look

you couldn’t help but snicker, turning to him and continuing with your little impression, ‘can i hewp you?’ you tried to ask in all seriousness but you couldn’t suppress the smile that was tugging on the corners of your lip

were you a little high? yes

ushijima just blinked rapidly, wondering why you sound like a cuter version of mickey mouse all of a sudden

was it a trend?

or maybe it was for one of those ‘tiktoks’?

either way, ushijima couldn’t help what he said next

‘no. i’m fiwne.’

IUERSBGTOHAROHSGBGFRO

HE SAID IT LIKE ‘fi - whine’ THO

you passed away 💀⚰

‘TOSHI!!!’ you screamed, feeling your soul leave your body

ushijima gasped, thinking that you had just been possessed or sumn, ‘hm?’

once he realised that you were in fact sane, he figured that your reaction must have something to do with his response

‘did i say something wrong?’ his lips curling into the tiniest of smiles, simply because you looked so joyous so ofc he was he was happy seeing you happy

‘nope! please say it again, toshi! i’m beggin’ ya’

‘no.’

although he loved hearing you laugh more than anything, the man had his limits

ngl he doesn’t mind when you do it - it just doesn’t especially effect him, that’s all

you could just randomly start talking like that during a conversation and he’ll just go from 😐 to 😐

but he gets butterflies when you call him ‘baby’ which is something you usually pickup whenever you put on the voice lol <3

pls call him ‘baby’ or ‘babe’ more he just wants to feel cared for and loved for a change instead of always having to constantly put on a front of ‘big, stoic man with no feeling that you can push around to your hearts content’ around literally everyone. sometimes he just wants to come home and feel like he can actually express himself and be soft without getting ridiculed

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hoe-imaginess · 4 years

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a helping hand (or two) | dabi

Dabi x fem!Reader

summary: Dabi is suffering from an aphrodisiac quirk. Now he’s got a dick that just won’t quit, and you have to take care of it.

word count: 10.4k

contains: almost dub-con, handies, bjs, dick riding, dirty talk, slight violence, a very stubborn Dabi who has to be restrained

a/n: self-indulgent & vaguely crack-ish. my idea of an aphrodisiac includes an overload of the five senses bc...idk I wanted to play w/ descriptive prose. my kink is describing Dabi’s horniness in paragraphs ok. meaty intro before the smut, hang in there

⤰⤰⤰

Dabi entertained the alley-dweller’s angry outbursts with sadistic patience. The man yelled at him, threatened him, boasted of all the ways in which he was going to make Dabi suffer for attacking and underestimating him—

Then, finally having decided that the fodder was no longer amusing him, the flame-user extended a glowing palm in preparation to finish the job.

When you read the intention in Dabi’s movement, you fidgeted where you stood and calculated the risk of opposing him.

“You can’t just keep burning everyone you don’t like,” you said, calculations made, deciding that you might as well attempt to be a voice of reason while you were paired up with him on this job.

It was a voice he happily ignored. The white-hot glare of his palm smoldered into the bursting blue of his flames as they lit up his fingers.

“Says who?”

Trash was trash. If you couldn’t see that, then oh well. Folly on your part for thinking the tedious task of recruiting didn’t require this sort of disposal; what better to do with underwhelming candidates than permanently remove them from the talent pool? You shouldn’t have tagged along if you weren’t prepared for his methods.

When the alley-villain realized that Dabi’s patience for his empty, arrogant threats had been spent, his dirt-stained face colored with fear, and his wild eyes darted in every direction of the alley to seek refuge from the imminent flames. He started to plead—which Dabi found grimly amusing given that the man had been spouting insults about his patchwork skin just moments before—then he shrank back against the alley wall, sinking to the ground in fear.

“The more bodies you leave the easier it will be for the police to track us.” You’d taken to your persuasions again, fruitless though you knew it was.

“And?”

“And you’ll be compromising the entire League.”

“If all you’re gonna do is complain then you don’t have to tag along, ya know.” He spared a glance your way, with that drolly exasperated look on his face he always gave when he felt you were speaking out of turn.

But his diverted attention proved costly: the alley-dweller suddenly went berserk, and was rushing at him with a final, rogue desperation to escape.

The charge, surprisingly swift as it was, was also uncalculated, and Dabi narrowly side-stepped to avoid a blow. With an indignant sneer, he rounded his hand and kindled his flames anew: no more games, it was time to kill. But before he could retaliate, the lunatic was on him again, barreling toward him.

Though fatally seared by the sudden discharge of flame that Dabi released, the derelict’s bulk was still sufficient to topple into Dabi and throw him off balance. He might have fallen from the impact if not for the way the man gave a wailing, pained shriek and threw himself away from the flames.

Torched and agonized as the man was, his mounted attack hadn’t been a complete failure: though Dabi’s flames had mostly protected him, there was an unmistakable sensation of damage in him which left him suddenly rigid with alarm.

Had he been wounded?

He looked down at himself, saw no injuries from which the bodily distress might have been roused. After a few moments the distress was gone, and he decided it was just adrenaline. Then, there returned the enervated frustration.

“Trash,” he muttered indignantly, glaring at the steaming heap of the man, who’d stumbled over a litter of aluminum trash bins and capsized with them onto the ground. He wasn’t moving. But he was still whole, and not the pile of burning ash he could have been, should have been, now, after that little effrontery—

Your arm was on him before he could pursue the murderous thoughts.

“Are you alright?” you asked, inspecting him carefully.

Instantly and fiercely, he shrugged away from your touch.

“Fine,” he grunted out, straightening and stiffening his limbs to convince himself of it. But that odd feeling was still there, burgeoning slowly at the sight of the man’s body fuming on the ground, at your own body standing so close to him. “If you hadn’t been running your damn mouth—”

“Sorry,” you conceded, more concerned with his demeanor than with defending yourself. In all likelihood he didn’t even realize how ruffled he looked. “Did he… are you hurt?”

“I said I’m fine,” he insisted firmly.

While you stared at him in doubtful concern, an energetic heat crept up his spine. Slow, like an insect bite bringing its stinging warmth to a crawl over his skin, skin both scarred and unscarred alike.

There was a smell, then, when he took his shallow breaths: something sweet, like lingering perfume, or fragrant incense—

Fairly quickly he realized the smell was coming from you, and glared at you in puzzled indignation, like the fact that this scent was yours and that he could smell it now—why could he smell it so profusely now, when he hadn’t before? What the hell?—was somehow offensive. Worst of all it smelled damn good. Had you always smelled that good?

“...What is it?” you asked carefully, not quite able to place the look on his face, but considerably unnerved by it, nonetheless. “Dabi…?”

Your voice—it held such particular tones that he hadn’t before noticed until now, as though he’d been deaf to what you really sounded like; how sleek and enticing your words were when they came out of your pretty mouth.

Oh, and your mouth: lips parted fretfully in preparation for another concerned inquiry on his well-being, objectively innocent but suddenly, and infuriatingly, looking very much like they were tempting him for a kiss.

Then when your pink tongue came to wet your lips in anxious trepidation, that too he saw as a maddeningly teasing gesture that made his hands feel hot. Then it was his feet; then his whole body.

He began to fidget where he stood.

Then, at the sudden onset of warmth in his head, he slid over to the alley wall, a splayed hand against the brick keeping his balance while he hung his dizzy head low.

“What the hell,” he muttered to himself woozily.

“Dabi?” You went to inspect him cautiously. You couldn’t see his expression through the curtain of black that had fallen over his face, but you knew something was amiss. “Are you okay?” you asked again.

“I’m fine,” he huffed out, and you’d been oblivious to his hoarse breathing up until the moment you stopped in front of him.

“Dabi,” you begged his attention now that his eyes had closed shut, his features pinched. “What’s wrong?”

His eyes, dizzied by the heat, began to play tricks on him. Even behind the closed lids he saw sparks flying, and swirls of white-hot passion dancing.

When the heat in him turned to a near-burning sensation, he opened his eyes and stared down at his body. Was his quirk activated? he thought confusedly. Or was the heat that licked his skin just a hallucination: flames that failed to consume him wholly? What the hell was happening? What was this—

The heat finally centered—mortifyingly—between his legs, and what had been confusion before was now full-blown bafflement.

“Dabi,” you were saying again.

The sound of your voice inflamed him not in aggravation, but something else.

“You don’t look good,” you said. The way his breath had thinned to long, rough pants put anxiety in you. “...I’ll call Kurogiri.” You fished your phone from your pocket with the intention of doing so.

A grunt was his response; he couldn’t coherently pick his words. Then, the anticipation of your voice again, on the phone, speaking in those tones and that sweet melody, made him shudder.

“No,” he muttered.

You looked at him, the phone to your ear, the line ringing. “What?”

“Don’t,” was all he could say, lower this time, almost in a growl.

“But Dabi, you—”

Suddenly, at the thought of hearing your voice for even another second, the fire overtook him.

First he slapped the phone from your grip. Its screen broke against the pavement and the voice that answered the call—too late, you thought fleetingly—stuttered on the line. Then he slammed you against the wall.

Winded and bewildered, it took you several seconds to find your bearings. In that time he’d pressed against you, his breath so hot and so angry that it flushed perspiration over your skin.

Gaping, your lips trembled. “Dabi, what—”

“Shut up,” he seethed quietly, teeth baring.

You recognized the wild look of violence on his face, but the lust in his hazy eyes wasn’t anticipated. Nor was the erection you felt pressing against your leg. You stared wide-eyed as the sinking realization came over you.

In desperation you pushed at him; he pushed back, corralling you against the wall even harder.

The air was knocked out of your lungs, and with it, a dying protest, “Wait—”

He clamped a too-warm hand over your mouth, and pressed his face against yours. His forehead on your own felt feverish and sweaty; his eyes, like blue-burned coals, pierced into yours. You could smell the heat smoldering off of him.

He loosed a shaky, unhinged breath. “Shut. Up.”

Unthinking, your hand tugged at the one on your mouth, inadvertently digging into his staples. But his wild passion lent him a worrisome insensitivity to the hurt, and his other hand was going for your waist, squeezing into your shirt and wrenching you impossibly closer against him.

The pain which erupted from his compromised staples only fanned the flames of his arousal. He didn’t know why. Of course he fucking didn’t. He didn’t even know why his body was moving the way it was: rutting against you, seeking friction for his aching dick.

His mouth went to your neck but applied no kisses or intimate caresses; he just pressed against the skin and breathed in pants. He put his free hand to your breast, the movement not a calculated one, more like he was seeking leverage to his imbalance. The stuttering beat of your heart was palpable under his palm.

"Fuck,” he sputtered out angrily, disoriented, and dug his fingers into your chest. You moaned behind his palm, both in shock and pleasure.

All he needed to hear was the latter.

The sound made him hiss a low and dangerous curse, and when he peeked his head back up, his pulsing eyes shone with something beyond just lust now: pure hunger.

Just as he moved his hand away from your mouth with the intent of crashing his own against you in a bruising kiss, there was a sound behind him.

In the back of his mind he recognized it: Warp Gate.

Kurogiri, and possibly someone else, had answered your call for aid.

Dabi utterly ignored it.

It had nothing to do with him.

He was only concerned with the heat. All he felt was the heat; all he saw was your lips: parted in dumbfoundment, dry, and begging to be wetted by his tongue–

There was a commotion, and then an angry voice that Dabi distantly recognized as Shigaraki’s.

Then a blow to the back of his head took everything away.

⤰

A subtle transformation had overtaken his body by the time he woke.

No longer was the heat excruciating, but it was still there, nevertheless: a curling medium beneath his skin which he felt the instant consciousness came back to him. With it, the dizzy ache in his head and the haze in his eyes. Then, finally: his limbs refusing to move when he tried to stretch them.

At once he realized he was back in the bar, confined in a chair, with people gawking at him from all sides.

He blinked his vision back to clarity, then scowled. “The hell?”

“Do you remember anything, Dabi?” That was Kurogiri somewhere to his left. Looking, Dabi confirmed his usual station behind the bar.

Delaying an answer, the flame-user glanced around. Not all of the League was there, he saw. Besides Kurogiri, only Shigaraki and you were audience to the spectacle.

You tried to avoid his harsh eyes when they landed on you, when they flitted across your features as if in an elaborate struggle to put pieces of a disoriented puzzle together. Solved, apparently, as his memory came back, his confused scowl worked into a realizing frown.

“Shit,” he muttered in annoyance.

Shuffling uncomfortably in the chair, he surmised it was rope binding his wrists behind his back, and his ankles to the chair legs. But the movement also brought attention to the hot pressure in his gut.

Or at the least, he thought that’s where it was—until he glanced down and realized that despite the abatement of the wild heat, his erection still peeked proudly underneath his jeans.

Now he was scowling again.

“What the hell,” he spat out, and suddenly, with his frustration flourishing, the heat was returning in slow order.

He cursed under his breath. He looked up and glared at the first onlooker he set his eyes upon: Kurogiri.

“Get me out of this shit.”

“I can’t do that,” the man replied regrettably. “When I came to retrieve you from the scene we had no choice except to put you down when you refused to listen. Given the nature of the quirk that you’ve been struck with, we have to take precautions until we know it’s out of your system.”

Dabi listened with steely suspicion. “What quirk?”

“An aphrodisiac—” You almost bit your tongue once you’d started, because the quick and fierce glance he gave you suggested he wasn’t entirely happy with you, and even less happy to hear your voice.

“It’s an aphrodisiac quirk,” you stated, more calmly now.

Dabi blinked, brows knotting in concentration. Spoken plainly that way, it seemed absurd, stupid.

He scoffed dryly. “You’re joking.”

“Really fucked up this time, didn’t you?” came Shigaraki from a spot at the bar, his arms crossed. “Serves you right, searching the alleys for trash. I told you to stop doing that shit.”

“Fuck off,” Dabi spat. “How was I supposed to know the guy’d have such a stupid fuckin’…”

Dabi tsked and shuffled uncomfortably in his chair again. The bitterness he felt for his confinement was quickly gaining, and so was the returning arousal. A sweltering, uncomfortable warmth on his skin made him hyperaware of his flushed face, and he could practically feel the sweat teeming on his unscarred flesh.

“I’m serious,” he muttered, glaring at Shigaraki. “Get me out of this.”

“So you can go ape shit again? No. It’s disgusting.”

“I’m not gonna do shit, relax.”

Dabi was aware then that focus was being pulled in the room, pulled directly to you: the victim of his unbidden arousal.

With a roll of his eyes, he huffed a frustrated breath and gave you what might have passed for an apology, if he’d even bothered looking at you. “My bad, and all that.”

Shigaraki’s arrogant snort derailed whatever amendment you might have transpired to make.

“You’re lucky the guy was still alive when we got there—barely,” your leader went on. “Told us a bit about what to expect from you in the next few hours though, once we promised we’d let him go.”

Dabi gave him a flat look of doubt.

Shigaraki scoffed. “Didn’t keep that promise, obviously.” Then he was scowling behind Father. “I don’t like having to clean up your messes. Shouldn’t have to finish off your fodder for you. You can’t even do that right, can you?”

Dabi’s frustration was in full bloom now, despite reason persuading him against it; he’d gathered enough at this point—at the expense of his own body—to know that agitation of any kind would feed the quirk’s effects.

Heat pooled low in his stomach when he demanded again, “Let me out of this shit right now or I’m gonna get mad.”

“Supposed to be a 24-hour thing unless you take care of it, to put it plainly,” Shigaraki responded.

“I assumed as much. So get me outta this shit and I’ll fuck off for a while.”

“Nah. Don’t need you going and causing a scene somewhere because you don’t know how to keep your pants on.”

You could feel the conflagration of tension in the room. Maybe it was Dabi’s quirk, maybe it was the alley-dweller’s mixing with it, making it dangerously palpable. Regardless, Shigaraki’s snark seemed to bring Dabi’s attention back to his body, to the insufferable bulge between his legs that demanded relief.

“This is stupid,” he declared bitterly, and tugged on the knots tied at his wrists, the throbbing heat in his lower-half lending itself to his quirk as it activated in licking flames along his arms. He was tired of this shit. He lost his temper all at once. “You’re damn crazy if you think I’m just gonna sit here—”

Then there was blue flame torching the back of the chair, blackening the rope which bound him and making the tethers frail enough to tear apart under a strong tug. He was freeing himself.

From there, it all happened relatively swiftly.

As he went to work on the binds at his feet with newly liberated arms, Shigaraki was in a conniption of angry protests, and Kurogiri fluttered nervously between taking action or remaining an onlooker.

Then there was you, probably the least equipped to do much of anything to alleviate the situation, but nevertheless skipping to your feet the moment the chaos ensued. There was arguing, cursing, insults—then your voice, attempting to wedge some conciliatory reason into the room.

It did the exact opposite.

Dabi had apparently forgotten of the trigger in your voice that sent his body into a frenzy. When you spoke up, your voice just loud enough to cut above the rest of the uproar, his aspiration to free himself tapered off as his sharp eyes honed in on you.

His arousal came back with a vengeance; in his pants, his dick twitched angrily for relief, and that frenzy took over his thought process again.

His flames burned the rope at his feet and he came at you, so close, so very close, not knowing why he was doing it but only that he needed to touch you—

You were frozen on the spot. But Shigaraki was reaching for something along the bar, and Dabi’s world went black again soon after.

⤰

When he woke this time, his rope bonds had been replaced for something cold and metallic, something stronger to withstand the vehemence of his flames. Even the chair to which he was bound had been swapped for something sturdier than wood.

“You fuckin’ serious?” he spat out, even before his vision had centered. He knew where he was, and why he was there. No need for context clues.

“You gave us no other choice,” Kurogiri amended carefully, the black vapors that composed him flitting about anxiously.

“Told you that you’d lose it,” Shigaraki said, anger having replaced all his snarky tones of condescension from before. “You’re like a damn animal.”

Dabi hissed and put his head back, feeling the soreness at his nape from consecutive blows. If he weren’t so presently occupied with the curl of heat welcoming him afresh, he might have simmered on the idea of burning his relatively recent—but entirely disagreeable—boss to a crisp when this was over.

Then for the first time Dabi realized you were absent, and glanced around as if in search of you. Good, he thought, when he confirmed that you were missing. You just... complicated things.

“I’m fine now,” he insisted, as placidly as possible as if to give stock to his lie. The respite had done nothing for the arousal harassing him; the longer it having gone unsatiated, even in unconsciousness, making it all the more demanding.

Mellowing his urgency to a non-existent degree was almost impossible, however. Dabi knew the way the soles of his shoes twisted and flattened restlessly into the ground below was anything but inconspicuous.

“Just warp me outta here, Kurogiri,” he implored.

“No,” Shigaraki answered. “Shut up. Consider this a lesson. No more rummaging for allies in shithole parts of town. This is what happens when you go dumpster-diving for recruits.”

“You want me to burn this place down?” Dabi threatened, testing the strength of his bonds. A flicker of blue teased along his jawline. “‘Cause I got no problem doing that.”

Shigaraki shrugged. “Sure. You’ll just burn up with it, since you’ve got no way out of that chair.”

He knew it was true, and worked his jaw. “For all you know the damn guy was lyin’,” he said as a final act of contempt, and gave his leader a leery, side-long glare. “And this shit might not go away on its own.”

“Guess we’ll have to see, won’t we?”

Dabi sneered. Foiled, but regardlessly frustrated by the truth of it, he put his head back with an angry sigh and resigned himself to an attempted calm.

⤰

You’d lingered in the bar’s back rooms for the better part of an hour before emerging.

Shigaraki had instructed you to make yourself scarce, but you were drafted to stay by some guilty—and admittedly curious—sentiment.

It was awfully unfair, you agreed, to keep Dabi chained up like he was—even in spite of the danger he posed under the quirk’s influence. But you must have overlooked that danger when you decided to slip into the main room where he was being held, long after you had been assured that Kurogiri and Shigaraki were gone.

His back to the door, Dabi didn’t glance over his shoulder at the sound of your footsteps. It seemed he was sour enough not to offer greeting, and preferred to be left alone in his turmoil.

He especially didn’t want your company, which he made clear by way of a harsh frown when you came into his peripheral.

He tsked and readjusted uncomfortably in his seat at your arrival. “The hell do you want?”

“How are you feeling?”

“Never been better,” he muttered.

You were aware of how he avoided your gaze, and couldn’t know whether it was in an effort to stave off the arousal your presence had so viciously wrought before, or because he simply didn’t appreciate your company. The latter seemed just as likely as the first, though neither stopped you from taking a seat in one of the room’s couches so you could sit across at him.

Your eyes were trained on his face, on the agitation creased into his expression. It was almost indecipherable under his otherwise cold demeanor. Clearly, the quirk was still in effect. If his tried composure wasn’t enough, there was a subtle tent in his pants that hadn’t gone away, not since its first appearance hours ago, you imagined.

You didn’t realize you were ogling until he noticed. He tsked.

“Take a picture,” he offered spitefully, immediately dissuading your eyes away from him.

“Sorry,” you let slip, embarrassment flushing your cheeks, and in response he only lulled his head back again and shut his eyes.

All was silent for a while, and might have remained thereby, if not for the way that the curt apology brought back the weight of guilt you’d felt to see his sorry state.

“And I’m sorry for bringing you back here,” you spoke up. “Or at least, sorry that I called the others. I didn’t realize you’d be held up like this–”

“Stop talking,” he muttered.

Mouth opening, then closing again, you almost swallowed down your next words. But again, they refused to stay unspoken.

“I wouldn’t have called them,” you insisted, “if you didn’t—if you didn’t come after me like that. I was confused.”

No response. Only another uncomfortable shuffle in the chair while his eyes remained shut and his mouth a thin line.

They’d put his hands in a sort of metallic sleeve since you last saw him, to discourage any more pyromania, you guessed. Though they weren’t visible, you could see how his arms shifted, how his tendons worked, and could imagine his fingers flitting anxiously inside the restraints.

“Is… me being here making it worse?” you chanced to ask.

He scoffed, and finally gave you his attention. “What?” Then, fully understanding your train of thought, rolled his eyes, and resigned them shut again while he relaxed into the chair. “Sorry to break it to you, sweetheart, but that dumb look you got on your face all the time isn’t exactly alluring.”

You frowned, and it was almost with cross touchiness that you argued, “But you came after me—”

“I’m guessin’ the point of the quirk is to make anything look fuckable. So don’t flatter yourself.”

Despite all your caution, you couldn’t help but give the man a sour look. “You’re rude.”

He shrugged, the movement impeded considerably by his restraints. “Whatever. Anyways, you just gonna sit there and watch me? I’m not exactly in the mood for company.” He moved in his seat again, fighting the heat between his legs the best he could. “Unless you’re gettin’ off on my suffering and what not. Kinda twisted of you, if you ask me. Didn’t peg you as the type.”

“That’s not it,” you insisted quickly. “I just wanted to…well—”

“To what? Check in on me? Nice of you. But you can fuck off now.”

A sudden twitch in his legs took the tension from the repartee. You looked down at the limb as he did.

The burning heat in his veins took away practically all control he had of his extremities, rallied them into unconscious servants of the damn quirk until they were twitching, then relaxing, then twitching again.

You noticed this, too, and though his efforts to conceal the struggle were commendable, they left you in a state of shame, as if it were you bound in the chair with your arousal on display. Seeing someone so normally composed as he was in such a state was distressing, and admittedly, absorbing.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and let your rampant thoughts form to words. “Will it go away if you…”

“If I what?” Then once understanding, the smallest of smirks twisted his scarred lips. “Rub one out? How the hell am I supposed to know?”

You ignored the heat that dropped down your spine to hear him say it so unabashedly. “I don’t have the key to your locks,” you explained. “So I couldn’t let you out even if I wanted to.”

He gave no response, just looked away from you again.

And here now was the adrenaline pulsing nonsense out of you, making you think crazy and debauched thoughts that would in any other situation be put down immediately by rationale.

“But…”

He glanced at you when you tapered off. “But?”

Your silence annoyed him, now that he was interested. Before he could hound you to continue, you sputtered out your proposal:

“Do you want me to do something about it?”

He looked at you, an eyebrow raised, as if demanding clarification. But you had a resolute feeling that he was toying with you by choosing silence.

“You know what I mean,” you asserted.

The blank, cold stare you received in kind made you wonder if he actually did know what you meant. Maybe he didn’t understand—

“No,” he then said.

The defeat you felt was utterly uncalled for, you knew. But you felt it anyways: a wash of humiliation plummeting down your body and swelling up again in frustration.

But you let it be, knowing anything more you had to say would probably earn you tenfold embarrassment.

Twenty minutes must have passed—though he wasn’t counting, and he wasn’t so sure that the affliction in his body wasn’t twisting his sense of time—each entailing another dredge of painful heat in his groin that worsened the longer his arousal went unattended to.

All the fail safes he’d practiced in his adolescence to ward off unwanted arousals were utterly useless now. He might as well have been on cloud nine when he filled his head with repulsive concepts: the smell of antiseptic, the smell of fish—fucking disgusting fish—even images of roadkill and dead bodies, putrefying and blackened.

The thoughts themselves were off-putting, as promised, but it wasn’t thoughts at all that fueled his libido: it was a completely physical and natural arousal.

Even shuffling his legs around, as meager of friction as it gave, made his hips inch forward in search of more when the fabric of his jeans teased his hard cock. It was fucking humiliating.

He looked at you. You were too occupied searching the floor for an answer to your anxieties to notice the way he studied you.

You weren’t bad looking, he decided. Not that he’d ever really thought of you that way before. Not thoroughly, anyways. In this little group of delinquents he’d surrounded himself with—a grand mistake on his part, he thought, especially during times like these—you were the only fuel he had for his imagination on nights he needed to let off some steam.

There was no intimacy behind it, no real passion for you that extended beyond the time from when he shoved a hand into his jeans, to when he was cleaning thick ropes of cum from his knuckles afterwards.

You were only ever given credence in his brain then, when he was giving his cock hard and angry tugs to the thought of you on your knees for him, or against a wall with his hand curled around your throat, and sometimes bent over his knee while he spanked your ass raw (a more recent daydream now, ever since that time a few weeks ago when you’d bent down in front of him to pick something up off the floor).

Suddenly aware of an alarming change in his body, he paused his thoughts to immerse himself back into his too-hot skin again.

He felt a wetness against his swollen cock, and after squirming covertly, frowned, realizing with loathing that the stickiness chafing his briefs was pre-cum.

He stubbornly decided that it was just an inevitable response to his body’s raging war with arousal, and not—not at all—because he’d been thinking of you.

Letting his body endure until his pants were dampened with pre-cum was an unwanted solution. Or even worse, until the sensitivity in his cock went haywire and even the tiniest of movements might make him cream his pants.

A frustrated breath whistled out from his nose and he grit his teeth. Goddamnit. This was fucking stupid.

“Fuck,” he said aloud, shaking his head as if to condemn the words he was about to say, knowing how they would haunt his ego later, “Fine. Come here.”

You glanced up, and, unable to fulfill the request with your mind suddenly racing, simply stared.

That insipid look of failed registry on your face irritated him, and he scowled. “Are you deaf?”

“You want me to—” A sweep of your eyes down to his crotch elucidated what you were too hesitant to say.

“You offered,” he reminded you, and decided that in order to make this even a fraction less humiliating, he’d need to emphasize your culpability. “Kinda been thinking it’s your fault, anyways. If you hadn’t been such a dumbass back there I would’ve finished the guy off like I wanted to. But you were too busy spouting your nitpicky bullshit.”

There was a guilty look on your face now, like you’d been considering the accusation in your own time. Now having it confirmed, you were more susceptible to the reasoning, and even more willing to rectify yourself.

Still, you struggled to swallow down hesitation. “You’re sure that you want me to—”

“You’re gonna start pissin’ me off if you get all shy,” he said, trying as hard as his dancing nerves would allow to keep the desperation out of his voice.

Since yielding to the ludicrous idea, his body had apparently taken up a premature celebration at the thought of your hands on him. His balls were tight and his dick was throbbing hard enough to make his legs tense with each pulse.

“I just want to make sure,” you insisted. “I mean, if you really–”

“I’ll make it easy for you then. Either get over here, or piss off.”

He was relieved, pleased, and somewhat amused when the hesitation left you and you obeyed. When you came to stand idly in front of him, he glanced up, watching your confusion.

Your eyes flicked from his face to his crotch, where the dim light of the room caught the curve of his hard dick pressing against his jeans.

“You gonna stare at it all day?” he asked.

You looked at him. “What do you want me to do?”

“When you offered to do something about it I assumed you already had some ideas. You need me to give you an instruction manual?”

Your silence frustrated him again, and he tsked, glancing away from you as the reality of what you two were doing finally set in.

“Take it out,” he muttered.

So you did, reaching numbly down and carefully undoing his pants. The bulge that awaited underneath his jeans gave you pause. You stared at it, and a shot of adrenaline pumped through you when it twitched in his briefs, as if feeling your eyes ogling it and begging you to give it attention.

You tried to clear your conscience. This was Dabi, Dabi who treated you with such disregard that you sometimes wondered if he even knew your name; Dabi, who was letting you even breathe next to him without trying to scorch you.

A trickling, somewhat fatally comedic thought entered your mind: was he going to light you ablaze the second you touched him? Or maybe after, once you’d relieved him, as a way to permanently silence you against ever speaking a word of this to anyone?

Shivering at the morbidity of your own creation, you reached for his briefs and pulled them down carefully until his cockhead showed itself, pink-hued and shiny with an excess amount of pre-cum.

You worked a hand underneath the briefs instead of exposing him completely, thinking he might want some semblance of modesty during this. Your convictions were rattled from their mounts when your fingers wrapped gently around the tip of his cock and gave a firm squeeze.

In response: silence.

You’d thought with how viciously his arousal had seemed to harangue him that he might give a stronger reaction: a moan, a sigh, a grunt, maybe even an audible breath.

He just stared at you, looking as utterly bored as he usually did.

Then your fingers decided to retreat, and the sound you’d been displeased to be robbed of came finally as a frustrated grunt when your grip left him.

“Seriously?” he huffed, staring at you. The irritation left its first but considerable split in his composure. The rest was quickly chipping away. He couldn’t pretend to be aloof about this for much longer. “You got cold feet now?”

“That’s not it.”

“What then? Never seen one before?”

“I don't know… how you want it,” you explained.

“The hell does that mean?”

“Do you want me to use my hands?” you clarified hesitantly. “Or…”

The little huff of derisive laughter that fell from his open lips made an eerie picture of his otherwise blank face.

“Or what?” he taunted. “You got something else in mind? You been dyin’ for a taste of it or something–”

“No,” you finished, and that flustered look of anger on your face was pissing him off again, instead of amusing him like it might have under another context.

“So then cut the shit and do whatever.”

With a frown you went to your knees, unwilling to get further embroiled.

When you started to stroke him, more pre-cum squeezed from the tip in generous pumps. You didn’t bother asking him how hard or fast he wanted it—you started hastily, hand gliding quickly over his cock, urgently enough that pre-cum eased the motion and made wet, sharp sounds with every stroke.

His knee twitched like he’d been checked for reflex, which you took as encouragement to keep going despite his loyalty to silence.

The veins along his dick pulsed needily and you swore you could feel the throb under your palm. The throb became more palpable as time went on. You thought you were doing well. But apparently not.

“Harder,” he muttered, not a minute after you’d started.

You glanced up at him. He wasn’t looking at you, but instead had shut his eyes in concentration. It looked to you as though he was trying to find the pleasure in your pace—which was apparently too soft for his likings.

You did as instructed, nevertheless: you tightened your grip a fraction, fingers curling and making your strokes face slightly more resistance as they worked more pre-cum from the red tip.

Another twitch in his leg, then a deep exhale that ended in a shiver; you saw his toned stomach shudder with the motion beneath his clothes, and fleetingly considered inching his shirt up a bit more out curiosity: how far did the burnt skin go down his body?

But then he was grunting, and breathing more stiffly than before. You thought that was another sign of a job well done, when his eyes peeled open and looked down upon you with such emphasized frustration that you realized you were not, in fact, meeting his standards.

“Harder,” he demanded again, more rigidly this time. Despite the command, your hand slowed. For that, he frowned at you. “Can barely feel that shit. You gotta do better than that. I like it rough.”

A flush of humiliation put purpose back into your rigid fingers, and you were moving your hand again, albeit slowly as you tested the new grip, this time with such purposeful pressure that you were tugging his dick now more than stroking it.

“I thought it might hurt,” you started meekly.

“It doesn’t. Keep going.”

You did, picking up speed again. The adrenaline put some more initiative into you, and you made a purposeful attempt to drag your thumb down hard on his swollen cock with every jerk of your hand.

A croaky hum from his throat brought your attention to his face; his eyes watched your hand stroking him with fuzzy scrutiny.

“Yeah,” he breathed thinly, his eyes fluttering closed again, finally satisfied. “Just like that.”

That made your chest tight with excitement and your legs fidget beneath you. Your own arousal was wetting the inside of your thighs by now, but you were able to ignore it momentarily in favor of serving his.

At some point his hips stuttered up to start meeting your hand, but in a much slower rhythm than you were stroking; lazy pumps up into your grip. Every synchronic motion when you jerked up and his hips rolled down, there was an amazing tightness on the head of his cock that made his breath catch every time.

You decided on using both hands (he was big, unexpectedly big, so much so that it was staggering and you decided you would think about that later when he wasn’t filling your palms so generously) and started twisting your grip in time with your strokes. It was then he finally loosed a low and breathy groan.

Then his hips were pumping into your hands roughly, fucking himself in slow but hard thrusts—so hard that you had to steel yourself and tighten your grip to keep from getting bucked off.

Another low moan from his throat. “Shit…” Then, when a surge of confidence urged you to quickly run your tongue along the head of his dick, his breath caught in a hard grunt.

“Shit,” he hissed out, and spread his thighs wider, pushing them up eagerly in demand that you give him more.

To the best of your ability you tried, spreading your tongue underneath the head and rapidly swiping it back and forth. That got his hips stuttering, and his body jolting in its confines.

“Fuck,” he bit out. “Yes, fuck.... Just like that.”

Without prompting your lips came into the fold, closing tightly around the tip and sucking in time with the hands that fisted his cock until you were lavishing every inch of him in some way.

The feeling alone was ridiculously good, but watching you made his jaw go slack and mouth open as he panted. Maybe it was just the stupid quirk making him delirious, but you looked a hell of a lot hotter doing this than what his fantasies had led him to believe. Fuck. You weren’t half bad.

A particularly hard thrust into your mouth had one of your hands slipping loose, and his next thrust, unimpeded by the length of one your fists around him, shoved his dick to the tight heat at the back of your throat.

He grunted hard, “Fucking shit—” Then arched up quickly, jumping at the opportunity to sink his cock deeper.

Without a pause to steady yourself you had little choice but to oblige, and his cockhead shoved in, cramming itself against your hot tongue, pumping farther back inch by inch.

The hand still jerking him off covered what your throat was too inexperienced to swallow down, and the rhythm of your tight mouth and vice-like hand made him moan deeply.

But it might have been too much, and a strength lent to him by the quirk’s desperation made his hips lift off the chair forcibly, driving his cockhead to the very back of your throat until you were sputtering and choking.

“Fuck.” It made him dizzy with pleasure, and he shut his eyes to keep them from rolling as he frantically pumped his hips upwards to get you gagging on him again. “Yeah, fuck, fuck, fuck–”

But then you were pulling off completely with a gasping breath.

His eyes opened, wild with exasperation. “The hell–”

You coughed wetly and started to plead, “Don’t choke me–”

“Fine—fine. Hurry the hell up.” His hips jutted up impatiently in search of your mouth again, his swelling cock bouncing and twitching urgently. “Put that fuckin’ mouth back on it right now—”

You obeyed, and his hips shuddered down into the chair, following the motion of your lips as they tightened over his length—only to start thrusting up into the hot and wet cavern again once his cockhead hit the roof of your mouth.

It was like a fire had been kindled underneath him and was rapidly boiling all his thoughts to a vapor. It was stupidly good, so damn hot and tight and wet he couldn’t remember a mouth on his cock ever feeling this amazing. He wished his hands were free so he could fist them into your hair, so he could push you down more, get you gagging and sputtering on his cock.

His eyes squeezed shut, face flexing with occasional twitches. His lips pulled back into a desperate grimace and long, shaky breaths whistled out through his clenched teeth.

With his vision released of the sight of you on your knees, his mind was free to give the hot wetness on his cock another name, and he instead imagined that it was your pussy he was shoving into, gripping him nice and tight.

He felt his quirk stirring underneath the pleasure; every vein in his body warmed at the mere thought of shoving into you raw, and until that very moment he hadn’t itched to break through his constraints like he did now, hadn’t wanted to be free of them so he could wrestle you to the floor and fuck you like he needed to.

You were doing something particularly creative with your tongue on the underside of his cock, and a full body shudder brought him back to present. He watched you in your task: your eyes were shut tight in concentration, your brows furrowed as you struggled to accept his dick while it rammed against the back of your throat. Even your hand’s grip on his cock was a little tighter, he noticed appreciatively.

It would have been fucking fantastic: a real goddamn sight to see that he might have honestly applauded you for later—if he wasn’t suddenly so absurdly enraptured with his fantasies.

Dabi wanted more. Something deeper and hotter, something to bury his cock into and relish the velvety grip, something he could ravage and fuck away the ache in his body—

The thought of pounding his dick inside of you suddenly encompassed all other thought; it wasn’t a notion his frenzied mind would let remain as a fantasy. He wanted nothing else. Your mouth on his cock, your throat curdling around him, choking on him in a way that made his legs shake...

It was all insufficient now. He needed to be inside of you. As soon as fucking possible.

“Shit,” he spat out. It was a curse different from the others, not breathed on arousal, but frustration.

You looked up at him, and read him to be just as disgruntled as he sounded.

“This ain’t doin’ it,” he said, and slowed his thrusting hips, which was a more hard-fought task to complete than he imagined; he may have been getting greedy with his fantasies, but his cock was still more than happy to use your mouth as a warm sleeve.

When you slipped off, you must have been giving him one of those dumb looks he hated, because he frowned.

“You hear me?”

You nodded, licking the wetness from your lips as you caught your breath. You were lightheaded. The taste of him lingered on your tongue, and you swore you would smell the smoky salt of his skin on you for days. But now there was more?

The heat pooling in your thighs demanded your attention again, and you fidgeted on your sore knees. “Well... what do you want me to do–”

“Sit on it.”

You gawked at him. “Sit on it?”

That got him smirking just a little, his tongue peeking out to wet dried lips as he slowly panted. He cocked his head.

“Worried it won’t fit?”

Your body surged with wild ambition. “That’s not it, but—”

“Bet you’re nice and tight, but you can work it in. I’d offer to stretch you open a little, but my hands are tied.” He flexed his fingers and arms in his binds for show, then grinned to see how flustered his words made you. “Besides, looked like you were enjoyin’ yourself. I’m sure you’re wet enough.”

God why couldn’t he shut up and let you think for a second? The teasing was horribly nauseating; his voice even worse, spoken with his smirk seeped into it. You realized the very sound of it would probably make you shiver now in all the wrong ways after this, even in casual conversation.

“I… don’t have condoms,” you said by way of reply.

He shrugged, the gesture lacking his usual languor now that he’d been worked up without release. “Me neither. They’re annoying.”

He noticed you were frowning at him, and scoffed. “What, not on the pill?” He didn’t wait for a response; maybe that was the heat making him forgo on better judgment. “Well, guess it’s a good thing they got me pinned down, then. You’re free to pull off when I’m about to bust.”

The way in which he spoke it made your stomach queasy, and the first true lick of doubt ruined your mood as you stood up. “Fine. Just… tell me before you’re about to.”

He grunted in response, inwardly absorbed with impatience.

You took off your bottoms and pushed your panties—yes, very wet, you confirmed—down, then hiked a leg over and climbed somewhat clumsily onto the chair.

Only when you’d awkwardly positioned yourself over him did you notice that his eyes were fixated down below, where your hands steadily worked his dick against you. A raspy sigh passed his lips, and it was then you noticed his body teeming with eager spasms.

Awkwardly, you sank down onto him, staring between you two the whole time and watching his thick length press tightly inside.

The binds on his feet jabbed sharply against his ankles as they shuffled for leverage, desperate to rut up into the tight heat that welcomed him—but your legs resting on his thighs kept the movement to nothing but shallow thrusts.

Whatever this fucking quirk was had a ridiculous effect on his sensitivity. You felt good—fucking amazing, even—though he couldn’t decide if that was just the quirk deluding him into thinking your cunt was the best he’d ever had, or if it really was: if you really were just that fucking incredible.

Normally he would have managed that with stilled hips and practiced control; just sat back and enjoyed the ride. But shit it took a monumental effort not to fuck up into you, especially with how damn... slow you were going.

Your pussy was gripping him so nicely, and that tight look on your face as you seated yourself onto his lap, accepting him fully and staggering from the size of him, was thrilling. But when you finally started to move your hips, you were going about it so cautiously, so boringly, that his patience all but thinned in a matter of seconds.

“Could you go any slower?” he muttered.

The words guilted you. “I thought it might… hurt?” you explained.

“How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not in pain, dumbass. I need to cum. Which ain’t gonna happen if you keep this up.” He shuffled his legs, widening them so he could better press up into you. The pressure made him grunt, and you shiver. “C’mon, you were putting on a real good show before. Ride me like you mean it. I know you can.”

And there it was again, the words and the voice that threw repose out the window and made you all the more eager to see this through.

With arms linked around his neck you started to roll your hips. He didn’t seem to mind the contact, helpful as it was in balancing yourself on his lap.

You weren’t entirely surprised when the first sighs and grunts came from your own lips. Every time you thought a new angle of your hips or a quick thrust of his own had finally hit that one pleasurable spot inside, you would sink down harder on his cock and gasp when his thickness dragged over another.

It made you go faster, turned the fluid rolling of your hips into quick grinding, then finally when you’d adjusted to his size, a steady bouncing on his cock.

“Fuck yes...” he muttered, then moaned low, licking his lips; that was what he needed, feeling you sink down over and over, lifting yourself a little higher each time then dropping so hastily that his hips started jutting up to meet you.

“Shit.” Lolling his head back he breathed heavily, deeply. “Ah shit...”

It encouraged you to circle your hips with every motion, which garnered a throaty growl in response. A string of curses under his breath accompanied it, and you pressed your face into his shoulder, keeping careful of his staples, and moaned along with him.

Only when you started getting noisier did you think of anything except what you two were doing: what if Shigaraki or Kurogiri were to come back now? What if any of the others decided to waltz in?

You bit your lip to keep your next few moans low, but you swore Dabi must have had a sixth sense for your timidity, and didn’t at all appreciate the way you were holding back.

He shifted his hips on the chair in a precise motion, and suddenly his cockhead shoved against the right spot over and over again as you bounced on top of him. All your logical thoughts were fucked into the back burner immediately.

All you could hear was your own panting and the slap of your thighs against his. He would give his heedy approval in an occasional growl or moan, rasping it against your ear. It made you shiver uncontrollably.

You lost rhythm soon enough and took to grinding again, the chair scraping along the floor beneath you. His thick cock drove you crazy, until you were panting and moaning and whining. If that wasn’t enough to signal an orgasm, he could feel it, could feel your pussy gripping him in a desperate flutter.

“Oi,” he got your attention, turning his head, his breath thin at your cheek, “You serious? Are you actually gonna–”

And you did, legs stretching and contracting, tightening around his thighs as you came hard. He cursed and dipped his head low when you squeezed around him, panting through the ridiculously good pressure on his cock.

Your body jerked and shivered in any way it could, anything to expel the white-hot pleasure that shot up your spine and then back down again. You couldn’t breathe, shaking on top of him so violently he was sure you were going to keel over at any second and start convulsing on the floor.

“Hey shithead,” he snapped after he’d let your shivers die down. Using what little leverage his tied legs allowed him, he pushed his shoes off the floor, bouncing you impatiently in his lap and jarring you back to awareness. You gasped in hypersensitivity, his cock digging against you.

“I’m flattered you like my dick that much,” he went on, your body languid and slouched against him. The heat was nearing again; his cock twitched miserably inside of you, desperate for release and so damn close to getting it. “But you’re not the one in need of attention here, in case you forgot. Keep it up. I’m close.”

With a moan you pushed yourself up, sucking in breaths of renewal through parted lips. Legs tensing and aching, you tried your best to grind on him again, but the task left you oversensitive.

He needed to finish, you reminded yourself. He needed to cum, like he’d said. You were sure, so blissfully sure you might be rewarded with more of his unhinged reactions that you forced your muscles to be ignorant to their ache, and started to ride him in earnest.

That was when you noticed it: the heat wracking you wasn’t just your own, it was his. His skin too hot, too hot to be normal, furnace-warm to the touch.

You lifted your head from his shoulder and peered over at him. His eyes were screwed shut, his lips pulled back into a tense snarl. Perspiration dewed on the portions of his untainted skin, dampened his brows and fell in droplets along his temple.

You felt his body heating rapidly against yours—the clothes keeping your skin apart might as well have been paper-thin. His chest, rising desperately with heavy pants, was concerningly feverish. He felt it too.

Fuck, he thought. Not fucking now.

“Damn it—” he sputtered out, body going suddenly rigid, craning his neck away from you. “Move,” he warned you.

“What—”

“Move your damn head—”

Just as you did, your eyes stretched in shock as flames broke out from his jawline. Their angry blue reflected threateningly in your eyes, made you come to a shivering slow on his cock as the dry heat blistered out over your skin.

The fire was out in a second, forcefully extinguished with his frustrated grunt; smoke puttered out from beneath his staples instead. He breathed out an angry sigh from the effort of combating his own quirk.

You hesitated to put your hand out and touch him, hovering over his face. “Dabi, your skin—”

“Shut up it’s fine,” he breathed raggedly, turning his head away from you. When was the last time that had happened? Fuck. He made himself believe it was just the quirk. Just the quirk. And not you. Not because you felt so fucking good.

His legs jolted up in desperation to make you move on top of him. “Don’t you fuckin’ stop—shit—I’m almost there—”

You didn’t know whether to be frightened or exhilarated by the display of fire, but you were moving again regardless, bouncing on his lap for all you were worth until your legs were begging for mercy and your lungs ached.

He sucked in tight breaths through his teeth, then exhaled them as gravelly moans. You pressed against him, arms wrapped about his frame, ignoring his sweltering skin and abandoning any fear that his quirk might disobey his control again. You bit your lip and whined excitedly when you felt him bow his head against your shoulder and pant heavily against the clothed skin there.

The heat was fucking blinding now. And it was loud: a numbing and seductive beat in his chest that made his heart stutter to keep up. Every slam of your hips down onto him, and every one of his thrusts up into you in turn, made the heat louder, ache more, and burn.

“Now,” he grit out against your ear, body seizing in warning. In his enclosed binds, his fingers clenched into fists, so hard that the joints popped in protest.

A whine in your throat was the response. You were ignorant to much else except the wetness making a mess of your thighs, of his searing skin against you and his belt buckle digging harshly into your legs.

“Right now,” he sputtered hurriedly, hips rising from the seat. All he could do was shove up into you once, violent and hard, digging his way as deep as he could as his balls went tight and fiery pleasure raced up his body. “Right fuckin’ now move, I’m gonna—goddamnit… fuck!”

He wasn’t prepared for the way you slammed your hips down as you came again with a cry. He stiffened hard, body bowing down into yours as much as the restraints allowed, shoving his face into your neck.

“Holy fuck,” he gasped out, “fuck—” You shivered wildly around him and in an instant he was cumming hard, legs jolting in their restraints, shaking under your thighs.

“Fuck!” he shouted again, the exclamation muffled against your skin. “Motherfucker—fuck—” His voice puttered off into a series of strained, frantic groans. Unthinking and delirious on pleasure, he closed his mouth around the soft flesh of your neck and bit hard.

You gasped, tried to wriggle free, but his hips were desperately snapping up into you, effectively throwing off your balance.

Your hips hadn’t stopped their determination either. They had a mind of their own, rutting fast to squeeze him dry. All the while, he growled hotly against your skin, teeth leaving deep marks, sucking blemishes into the flesh despite all restraint that told him otherwise.

After the last, hard spurts inside of you, he sank back into the chair, utterly wasted. Little spasms harassed his body and made him shiver weakly. Only his mouth persevered, teeth still digging into the soft flesh of your shoulder.

The pleasure ebbed into raw sensation, and you could feel the marks his incisors left in you, the heated metal of his staples singeing you.

“Dabi,” you stuttered out, a shaky hand coming to push at his forehead in protest.

It shook him back to reality. He brought his dizzy head back to look at you through hooded eyes, then down at the wound he’d left on your neck.

Shit, he thought fleetingly, but not very regrettably. That was gonna bruise.

He put his head back against the chair and heaved, shutting his eyes to dispel the lightheadedness.

“Told you... to get off,” he muttered.

You knew it was a mistake you would dwell on later, but you could barely move now, let alone think.

When you shifted your legs, wanting to move and put some blood back into your limbs, it set off a chain reaction of oversensitive-pleasure; dwindling sparks went off inside you and you shuddered, making him jerk and grunt in tandem.

“Don’t move,” he chided, his head still bent to the ceiling. “Just gimme a minute... Fuck...” he breathed. “You fuckin’...” He shook his head, in disbelief of the pleasure, even more so that you’d been the one to give it to him.

Then he thought: he wouldn’t need to conjure up fantasies of you anymore when he was getting himself off. He could go by memory now.

Once he’d regained partial composure, he shifted, glad to find his dick was going limp—fucking finally—inside of you.

“You got a way to take care of that?” he asked, leaning back and looking down at the wet mess between both your thighs.

You blinked, hazy. “What?”

“I’m not tryna knock you up just ‘cause you’re too horny to listen,” he said disdainfully. “You on the pill? Gotta get one of those morning-afters otherwise–”

“It’s fine.” You nodded. “Don’t worry.”

It was easier said than done, he thought to himself sourly. But he was having trouble thinking of much else besides how fucking fantastic it was to feel the arousal leaving him in blissful waves.

He took a heavy breath. “Now get off and get me outta this shit.”

“But you might still be…” You wriggled a little on top of him, felt him soft inside of you. It was uncomfortable, but even if you’d wanted to move, your muscles were spent. “What if you’re still… ”

“Still what? Still horny? Bet you’d like that, wouldn't you?”

You wouldn’t let the comment fluster you, and obeyed as a way to prove him wrong, slowly lifting yourself off of him. The ache of your insides as he slipped out was raw and hot and wet, but unmistakably satisfying.

“Let me out,” he demanded again. “Now.”

“I told you I don’t have the key.”

He sighed in frustration, blinking sweat from his eyes. “Then go get Kurogiri. Go get someone. And at least be nice enough to cover me up. Don’t want my dick hanging out.”

It was shiny, wet, and red from stimulation. When you went to tuck it back in his pants, it twitched.

“Oi, clean it first,” he snapped.

You glanced around. “With?”

“Whatever the hell’s lying around. Shirt, rag, your mouth.” He scoffed when you put on a frown. “Don’t give me that look. This is your mess on my dick, ya know.”

With barely contained insolence you went down shakily on your knees, ready to go about the particularly humiliating task, when he laughed dryly under his breath.

“You’re a real slut,” he muttered, looking down on you with a cheeky smirk, “aren’t you?”

That guaranteed your spite, and you stood up just as quickly as you’d gone down, then nudged his still-messy dick into his pants and zipped them closed.

“Oi, oi—” The wetness squished uncomfortably underneath the fabric and he shifted awkwardly, glaring at you. “You fuckin’ serious?”

“You’ll be fine,” you muttered, turning away from him in search of your clothes, hiding an indulgent smile.

As you redressed, he sneered and pulled at his bindings. “Don’t get smart with me.”

“Or what?”

You were too exhausted to wrangle with his temper, or your own self-preservation; you knew it was a dangerous game to tease him. But you couldn’t help it. Your mind was foggy, your body teeming with giddy pleasure. Not to mention, you were free. He wasn’t. And that was remarkably funny.

Now he was scowling. “You little shit. Letting it all go to your head now, huh?” When you didn’t answer, when he caught a flash of your teasing smile, his frustration started to run rampant. “Not gonna be so funny when I’m out of this shit—”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

In response, he just glowered, and despite the front you were trying to put up, it threw an excited shiver down your spine. You were perilously tempted to egg him on, but decided against it.

You pulled your shoes back on and breathed, looking at him with something that resembled soft smugness. “I’ll go find Kurogiri.”

“Yeah, you fuckin’ better,” he muttered under his breath, keeping his critical eye-contact with you up until the very moment you disappeared out of his line of vision.

When he heard your footsteps finally dwindle down an adjacent hall, he let out a long-suffering sigh and tilted his head back. “Fuck.”

The quirk had gone, the heat and arousal with it.

But what hadn’t gone were the thoughts of you.

Angry thoughts, confusing thoughts, and most of all, intriguing thoughts.

#dabi x reader #dabi imagines #bnha x reader #dabi

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cancelledboobsubscription · 3 years

Text

I’ve making headcanons about all of my hyper fixations for a while now and just dumping them on my friends so I’m gonna also dump them here.

If you’re into All For the Game , My Hero Academia, ATLA, The Raven Cycle stay fuckn tuned my doods bc I have a loooot of stuff rattling around my empty skull.

Not all of these are 100% mine some of them are already pretty popular and I’m expanding on them or I heard something similar and edited it to my own tastes

I’ll separate them by series,,,

Theres like one canon that’s mildly nsfw

TW: drug abuse

Mha/Bnha

pro hero kirishima’s Red Riot™️ merch is insanely size inclusive bc he wants fatgum to be able to wear the hoodie that kiri’s pr team sent him but that’s not all,,

If he wasn’t super gay and in love with Bakugou he’d be very Into BBWs so again his merch is super size inclusive bc he wants everyone to be able to wear it

The company that makes the merch also takes requests for special made merch for people who’s quirks interfere with a “normal” size or dimension

ALSO ,,,,this man(kiri) is built like a fuckn MACK TRUCK OKAY he is 6’7” and cannot fit through doorways without ducking and turning a little to the side ,,, he is broad And still wears no shirt™️ ,,, this being said ,, bakugou is still around 5’8” and pretty slim don’t get me wrong he’s extremely strong and toned but he’s not huge,, it makes flying easier if he stays a little lighter ,,,,,,, the point is,, sometimes kiri will pick up bakugou with one arm and bakugou can’t even pretend to hate it anymore

Also,,,, fatgum has to use special pens and keyboards because of how big his hands are,,, he’s literally 8’2” I won’t take criticism on this

Fatgum actually loves wearing red riot and sun eater merch

Allmight and Inko start dating and one day when they’re out someone comments on how much all might “looks like a skeleton” and she absolutley lets loose on them for being so vapid and shallow and how “he’s risked his life to save people like you more times than you have ever even thought about being helpful in your life and it would serve you well to treat someone who’d die for you without even knowing you with more respect”

All might had to gently pull her away bc the guy was crying and she wasn’t anywhere near finished with him

Midnight is Asexual and aggressively pretends to be horny on main™️ because for one, it works with her quirk and two, nothing sells better than sex especially when you’re a woman.

Bakugou and kirishima use sign language to talk shit at Public events

Dabi is addicted to painkillers because he’s been on them his entire life,, he wakes up with the shakes and sometimes toga has to help him take his meds in the morning because he’s already in withdrawal

Tensei was the first one to realize that iida was autistic and immediately did copious amounts of research on ASD and how to be a good brother to him

ATLA

sokka grows his hair as long as Zuko’s (except the sides obvi) and sometimes he’ll wear his hair in the fire nation top knot and zuko loses it every time

Azula gets help and now sometimes when she wakes up with the sun after a night of fitful sleep she goes to the courtyard to have tea with iroh. They never talk, but then again they never need to.

Sometimes after a hard day sokka falls asleep in the bathtub and wakes up to zuko warming the water back up and washing his hair for him

Suki lounges in zukos throne while zuko gets worked up about stuff and paces all around the room

Mai is on the ace spectrum

When sokka and zuko visit the southern water tribe zuko will firebend for the all of the kids in the village,,, they love him so much and sometimes sokka gets a little teary eyed watching him

Sokka braids zukos hair water tribe style and it’s the hottest thing maybe ever

Zuko takes sokka on shopping sprees pretty frequently and sokka fuckn loves it

One time someone has the nerve to call sokka “the fire lords sugar baby” and sokka just flips his ponytail over his shoulder Ariana style and says “and what about it?”

The Raven cycle

Ronan has 100% killed Robert Parrish in his dreams and when he wakes up to see Adam next to him he almost immediately wants to go back to sleep and do it again for all the pain he’s caused Adam

Gansey is oblivious to the fact that he is indeed shredded,, when he gets really worked up he moves his arms a l o t like rolls up his sleeves, crosses and uncrosses his arms and The gang’s favorite is when he puts his hands on his head and subconsciously flexes,,,, literally entire gangsey will group swoon at him and he genuinely thinks they are marvelling at his passion for whatever he’s worked up about

Ronan watched broke back mountain once when he was like 16 and now all he can think about is being a gay cowboy ,,,

Adam will read people’s tarot wrong if theyre douchebags

Don’t you think it’s funny that the ganseys don’t have any straight children?

Blue has a T-shirt from each member of the gangsey (except Noah,, rip Noah) and shes created a terrible Franken-T-shirt by ripping them up and sewing them all back together in an extremely ugly patch work thing

Adam talks in Latin in his sleep and it really freaks his roommate out,, like a lot,, not to mention the fact that Adam already creeps him out to begin with bc he’s got that other vibe that comes from being tied to cabeswater and lindenmere ,, 6 out of 7 days his roommate is convinced that he’s a witch or a fairy or something

Ronan teaches opal how to bake and opal burns everything on purpose

aftg

Neil has definitely killed multiple people to survive

Neil’s mom definitely made him kill someone at least twice to make sure he could kill to survive on his own if they got separated

he probably definitely still has nightmares about each one

Matt and Dan both had a crush on Neil for like 30 seconds and absolutely talked to each other about him

Ppl always talk about how hot it is to crush a watermelon with your thighs,,,, Andrew could do it with his arms

Aarons ass is so flat and Andrew has an absolute dumptruck

Kevin started out as one of those annoying “obsessed with WWII” history guys and now he’s actually very into queer history and will rant about the lavender scare for an hour if you let him

The foxes lounge room(?) has a dart board with riko’s face on it to this day,, they literally have a drawer full of copies the same image of riko and every time one gets worn out they put a new one up. It’s more of an inside joke now but wymack still hates that little puke even though he’s dead so it stays up

Post-canon Neil gets drunk and teaches the team how to steal a car by hot wiring Matt’s truck

Matt does drag for halloween one year and Dan liked it a little too much *cough cough* she pegged him while he was still in drag

Someone once asked Renee if she was “saving herself for marriage like a good Christian girl should” and Allison knocked them out cold and stepped over the body

Neil calls Aaron ugly to his face literally any chance he gets (I feel like this one might be canon but I actually don’t know What’s real anymore)

Andrew Unironically wears a pink apron that says “kiss the cook” that Nicky got him for Christmas when he bakes

Okay I think that’s it ? For now?? Let me know if y’all want more,,,,, I’ll separate them next time I just really had to dump these and I didn’t want to make multiple posts.

I made this at 5:30 in the morning sorry if it’s riddled with typos and errors.

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aboveallarescuer · 3 years

Note

#that happens even when the person isnt trying to argue that shes a mad queen/villain but that she has both 'good' and 'evil' in her#and is meant to fail#(e.g. that meta about how dany is a tragic shakespearean hero; which annoys me more bc it sounds convincing when you don't remember what#happened in the books very well...

Can you talk more about your problems with that essay? I thought that it sounded plausible... I don't want those things to happen to Daenerys, but I don't trust GRRM either.

Anon, thank you for this ask and sorry for the delayed answer. I was already planning to write several posts as a response to the arguments of “Daughter of Death: A Song of Ice and Fire’s Shakespearean Tragic Hero” (which you can read here), but I couldn't find the time or motivation for that lately, so thanks for giving me the opportunity to counter-argue it in a single answer. I tried to be brief by summarizing some of my notes and by linking to a lot of metas instead of repeating all of their points, but the response unfortunately ended up becoming long anyway.

In the context of that essay, Dany is considered a Shakespearean tragic hero because the writer thinks she fits five requirements: 1) Dany’s chapters contain supposedly deliberate references to Shakespearean plays; 2) Dany is “torn by an internal struggle”, namely peace versus violence or companionship versus rulership or home versus the Iron Throne, all of which also drive the external conflicts. Choosing the second options will lead to her demise; 3) prophecies and “influential accidents” - that is, events that “have roots in a character’s motivation”, as well as “the sense of ‘if only this had not happened’” - will “heighten and exaggerate [tragic flaws that] already [exist]” in Dany; 4) Dany will (according to the essayist’s speculations) take actions that produce “exceptional calamity” and her demise will be “her own choice and doing”; 5) Dany “[rose] high in position” and is “an exceptional being”, which sets her apart as a character that fits the mold of the Shakespearean tragedy because her reversal of fortune will highlight “the greatness and piteousness of humanity”.

I would argue that the points that the essayist made to justify how Dany supposedly fits these five requirements are all very skewed.

1) When it comes to requirement 1 (Dany’s chapters contain supposedly deliberate references to Shakespearean plays), the essayist is conveniently cherry-picking (as they often do throughout the meta). Bran Stark wants a dreamless sleep just like Dany: “Sweet, dreamless sleep, Bran thought.” (ACOK Bran I); “That night Bran prayed to his father’s gods for dreamless sleep.” (ACOK Bran II). Indeed, @marinabridgerton argues that that’s most likely tied to the fact that they’re the two characters most heavily associated with prophecies. Even Sansa is said to have a dreamless sleep: “Sometimes her sleep was leaden and dreamless, and she woke from it more tired than when she had closed her eyes” (AGOT Sansa VI). And yet, where are the essays about how these quotes are teaching the readership to interpret Bran’s and Sansa’s characters, storylines and trajectories based on Shakespearean tragedies?

2) When it comes to requirement 2 (Dany is “torn by an internal struggle”, namely peace versus violence or companionship versus rulership or home versus the Iron Throne, all of which also drive the external conflicts. Choosing the second options will lead to her demise), the essayist is right to point out that those dilemmas exist. However, they portray Dany’s struggles in a way that makes it seem that 1) there are “good” options (peace/companionship/home) and “bad” options (violence/rulership/Iron Throne) for Dany to take and that 2) choosing the latter ones will lead to Dany’s downfall. There is a lot to question about these assumptions.

2.1) When it comes to Dany’s conflict between peace versus violence, the essayist takes everything that Adam Feldman’s series of essays “Untangling the Meereenese Knot” says for granted when it shouldn’t be. I’m not going to delve into all the problems/inaccuracies/double standards with those essays. For our purposes here, it’s enough to say that they: 1) dichotomize Dany’s identity into mhysa and mother of dragons to argue that the former represents her desire for peace and the latter her violent impulses; 2) assert that the peace was real; 3) conclude that, by rejecting the peace, the Dany of ASOS is gone and from now on she’s going to be a very different person because she will have chosen to follow her violent impulses.

As already argued before, though, 1) Dany’s character can’t be dichotomized in that way because these facets - mhysa and mother of dragons - actually complement each other (as @yendany made clear in her most recent meta). Because Dany was the mother of dragons, she was able to act as mhysa way before she was hailed as such, which we see, for instance, when she kills the Astapori slave masters to free the Unsullied. Both of these identities manifest Dany’s fierceness when faced with great injustices. This is why, in ADWD, locking her dragon children prevented Dany from properly defending her human children… She needs to integrate both parts of her identity to be able to protect them. But Feldman couldn’t recognize that because 2) he accepts the peace deal that Dany made with the slavers as valid. Doing so would mean, however, ignoring the re-enslavement and suffering of thousands of marginalized people, which GRRM continually emphasizes in Dany's and Tyrion’s final ADWD chapters (read more about this here and here) to hammer home that the peace is false for prioritizing the slavers over them. Finally, 3) Dany is not a violent person nor does she have violent impulses. Feldman decontextualized the moments in which Dany uses violence from the standards of her time and place (read more about this here and here and here and here) to portray them in a more negative light than how they are actually meant to be viewed. Additionally, he conveniently left out all the moments in which Dany chooses to be merciful, from when she spares Yunkai and most of the Meereenese slavers (she didn’t do the same in Astapor because she was outnumbered and needed to protect her retinue) to when she doesn’t punish people who threaten or disrespect her to her face (such an envoy who spits at her face, a boy who tries to attack her, Xaro after he says he wishes he’d killed her), to give a few examples (read more about this in @rainhadaenerys's comprehensive meta). I would argue that Dany’s conflict is less about peace versus violence and more accurately about her tendency to be merciful versus her desire for justice (which, especially in the particular context she finds herself in, is unattainable without violence). In fact, I would go further and say that it’s distasteful to characterize Dany as someone “violent” or with “violent impulses” when, so far, she’s only used violence to a) defend and protect victims of (physical and systemic) violence and/or b) in circumstances in which her actions are no more problematic than those of any other leader of her world. And yet, the essayist portrays them as if they were (“To choose indiscriminate destruction over peace tends toward the evil”).

It’s also convenient that the essayist only talks about fire negatively (“Dany wields unmatched power that can “make or unmake at a word”—Dracarys—villages, armies and kingdoms”, “in the words of Maester Aemon, “Fire consumes.””) when it's also connected to life, rebirth, healing and enlightenment. And dracarys in particular is explicitly associated with freedom by the narrative while Dany frees the Unsullied (her decision, in turn, is associated with her future actions in the War for the Dawn). But acknowledging these things would make it harder to portray Dany as a Shakespearean tragic hero.

2.2) When it comes to Dany’s conflict between companionship and rulership … Again, the dilemma exists, but not in the way that the essayist presents it. What I mean is that they go out of their way to make it seem that Dany’s loneliness was the main factor driving her decisions, such as the liberation of the Unsullied (“She feels for the forced loneliness of the Unsullied, and it is loneliness that convinces her to commit violence in the plaza to free the slaves—just as it is in loneliness she chooses violence amidst the Dothraki Sea.”)... And not, y’know, her compassion and sense of justice (“Why do the gods make kings and queens, if not to protect the ones who can’t protect themselves?”), which are rarely acknowledged in this essay even though it’s arguably the main aspect of Dany's characterization. Why does the essayist do that? Because, since they are arguing that Dany is a tragic hero, they need to present Dany’s loneliness both as the reason why she achieved greatness and as the reason that will lead to her demise when she (supposedly) starts distrusting people, closing herself off and choosing violence (“the moral conviction she feels for her abolitionist crusade is part of the greatness that is also her tragic trait [...] She feels for the forced loneliness of the Unsullied, and it is loneliness that convinces her to commit violence in the plaza to free the slaves—just as it is in loneliness she chooses violence amidst the Dothraki Sea.”). As I said, however, doing so requires downplaying Dany’s compassion, as well as ignoring the fact that she does not close herself off to people in ADWD, nor is there any sign that this was seeded as a serious issue for her in future books (especially considering that her governance is meant to be contrasted with Cersei, the character who actually does close herself off to people. But more on that below when I talk about why Dany doesn’t fit the essayist’s third requirement).

Also, singling out rulership in particular as a reason for Dany to feel alone is conveniently selective (“Returning to Westeros means ruling Westeros - and ruling means loneliness”). All the major characters have reasons to feel lonely and isolated in their society because GRRM chose to focus on the underdogs. Their social standings are already enough to make all of them feel alone. As he said, “Tyrion of course is a dwarf which has its own challenges. Dany is an exile, powerless, penniless, at the mercy of other people, and Jon is a bastard”. You can also throw in Arya for being a young girl struggling to adhere to gender norms and Bran for being a disabled child. And that is just one example… There are a myriad of reasons and situations for various characters to feel lonely and isolated, but the essayist specifically chose to talk about how rulership causes that for Dany. And, considering that the essayist thinks that Dany’s rulership -> growing isolation and loneliness -> her ultimate downfall, it really feels like they’re punishing Dany narratively for acquiring and wielding power. Which leads me to the next point...

2.3) When it comes to Dany’s conflict between home and the Iron Throne, I would argue that that’s not really a conflict. Dany (like any feudal leader) believes she needs to retake the Iron Throne to stay in her homeland just like the Starks believe they need to retake Winterfell to stay in their homeland. Whether Dany finds herself at home in Westeros or not is irrelevant to that fact. And yet, the essayist only presents the former as being in the wrong for fighting for her birthright. However, as it's been already explained before, the Starks’ claim to the North isn’t morally righteous. They only have dominance over the North because, for thousands of years, their ancestors fought against, drove away and killed most of its indigenous population (the Children of the Forest), as well as multiple families who were also vying for control over the region. With that in mind, Dany fighting for her birthright isn’t any more problematic than the Starks enjoying the lands and privileges obtained with conquest and bloodshed, as well as the labor of peasants. One could argue that GRRM may have a double standard against Dany in this case (though it's been argued before that he doesn't intend to present the Iron Throne as a source of greed and evil like how fandom presents it) because of the order of the events and depending on whether he holds Dany accountable for more problems for waging her war than the Starks for having done/doing essentially the same thing, but that’s not what the essayist is doing. Instead, they a) take for granted that Dany is doing the wrong thing for fighting for the Iron Throne ("To delay the call of the North and continue to divide an already weakened realm is to give into dark desires.") and b) center all their speculations about her eventual demise based on that belief.

Ultimately, I would argue that none of these three dilemmas - peace versus violence, companionship versus rulership, home versus the Iron Throne - come with easy answers. When it comes to the first conflict, it’s important that Dany prioritizes the lives of the slaves over the privileges of the masters, but that causes more war and bloodshed. When it comes to the second and the third conflicts, it’s worth noting that the first options (which the essayist presents as the “good” ones) are actually the selfish paths for Dany to take. After all, she would rather live a normal life with a husband (companionship) in the house with the red door (home) - “She would rather have drifted in the fragrant pool all day, eating iced fruit off silver trays and dreaming of a house with a red door, but a queen belongs to her people, not to herself”. But, as the quote shows, instead of choosing these selfish goals, Dany accepts the burden of rulership and the fight for the Iron Throne because of her duty towards her people and ancestors. And, while this path leads to war (either in Meereen or in Westeros, though the former is morally righteous and the latter, while not inherently justified, is not any more problematic than Robb fighting for Northern independence), power is also the means through which Dany can make changes that benefit the common people.

With all that said, it’s ironic that Dany fans are often accused of flattening her character or her choices when it’s actually her detractors or “neutrals” (like the essayist) who do so - they are dead set on portraying Dany’s available options as either “good” or “bad” and on speculating that choosing the latter ones will lead to her downfall, but the text actually gives her conflicts in which all the options have their pros and cons.

The essayist also makes a mistake that isn’t really up to interpretation or difference in opinions. They say that, in AGOT Daenerys III, “after admitting this difficult truth [that Viserys will never take back the Seven Kingdoms], Dany assumes the goal for herself (and at the time, her son)”. That is incorrect. In AGOT Daenerys V, moments before Viserys’s death, Dany says she would have allowed him to have the dragon eggs because “he is my brother … and my true king”. Jorah doesn’t think she should still acknowledge him as such, but she tells him that “he is all I have”. So no, Dany hadn’t assumed the goal for herself at that point, she only took over his campaign in her son's name (not hers) after Viserys's death. But the essayist needs to exaggerate Dany's ambition to justify her demise, since they speculate that “in that hurt and betrayal, all that will be left - she will think - is the crown”.

3) When it comes to requirement 3 (prophecies and “influential accidents” - that is, events that “have roots in a character’s motivation”, as well as “the sense of ‘if only this had not happened’” - will “heighten and exaggerate [tragic flaws that] already [exist]” in Dany), the problem is not in cherry-picking or in double standards against Dany, but rather in the essayist’s lack of knowledge about Dany’s characterization. It’s simply not true that Dany’s distrust of people grows to the point that she closes herself off to them. Instead, I would argue that Dany is actually portrayed as someone with a healthy distrust of people. We know from the books (1, 2, 3, 4) that she finds it unlikely that Barristan, Grey Worm or Missandei would ever betray her, but that she doesn’t think she can rely entirely upon Reznak, the Green Grace, the Shavepate, Hizdahr and Daario. Do Dany’s doubts about these people’s intentions lead her to, as the essayist says, “push people away”? No. Through almost all of ADWD, she (wrongly, though understandably) believes that "until [freedmen and former masters stand together, Meereen will know no peace". Accordingly, Dany is willing to listen to the counsel of all of her advisors (both the ones she trusts and the ones she distrusts) to ensure that she makes informed decisions. To give some examples:

Dany allows “well spoken and gently born” people (i.e., not the typical condition of most former slaves, who are glad that Dany freed them) to sell themselves into slavery and imposes a tax each time men chose to do so like how it happened in Astapor (ASOS Daenerys VI). By making this decision, she agreed with both Missandei and Daario.

Dany employs the Unsullied to ask the Blue Graces if someone showed up with a sword wound and to ask butchers and herdsmen who’s been gelding goats (ADWD Daenerys I). By making this decision, she disagreed with Barristan.

Dany chooses not to punish any noble in response to the murder of Stalwart Shield and only increases the amount of gold for whoever gives information about the Sons of the Harpy (ADWD Daenerys I). By making this decision, she agreed with Reznak and disagreed with the Shavepate.

Dany gives up on banning the tokar and wears it herself (ADWD Daenerys I). By making this decision, she agreed with the Green Grace.

Dany (rightly) refuses to reopen the fighting pits for a while until she later relents in the name of the peace with the Meereenese nobles (ADWD Daenerys I, II, III, VI). By making this decision, she disagreed with Hizdahr, Reznak, the Green Grace and the Shavepate and agreed with Missandei.

Dany delays the choice of a husband until it becomes necessary later (ADWD Daenerys I). By making this decision, she disagreed with Reznak, the Shavepate and the Green Grace.

Dany chooses to pay the shepherds for the animals that they say their dragons ate (ADWD Daenerys I). By making this decision, she disagreed with Reznak.

Dany pays Hazzea’s father the blood price (i.e., one hundred times the worth of a lamb) for her death, lays her bones to rest in the Temple of the Graces and promises to pay for his children each year so they shall not want (ADWD Daenerys II). By making this decision, she disagreed with the Shavepate.

Dany allows the Shavepate to torture the wineseller and his daughters for information about the Sons (ADWD Daenerys II). By making this decision, she agreed with the Shavepate.

Dany imposes a blood tax on the noble families to pay for a new watch led by the Shavepate, takes the gold and the stores of food of any nobleman who wishes to leave the city and keeps two children from each pyramid as hostages instead of letting the nobles go unpunished after nine freedmen were killed by the Sons (ADWD Daenerys II). By making this decision, she agreed with the Shavepate and disagreed with Reznak.

Dany has Barristan and Groleo and his captains and sailors to inspect Xaro’s ships (ADWD Daenerys III). By making this decision, she agreed with Barristan.

Dany chooses not to go to Westeros despite being offered ships to do so (ADWD Daenerys III). By making this decision, she disagreed with Barristan.

Dany doesn’t kill her child hostages despite the Sons’ ongoing attacks (ADWD Daenerys IV). By making this decision, she agreed with the Green Grace and disagreed with the Shavepate.

Dany agrees to marry Hizdahr if he’s able to give her ninety days of peace in Meereen (ADWD Daenerys IV). By making this decision, she agreed with Hizdahr, the Green Grace and Reznak and disagreed with the Shavepate, Barristan, Missandei and Daario.

Dany refuses to gather the masters and kill them indiscriminately (ADWD Daenerys IV). By making this decision, she disagreed with Daario.

Dany doesn’t allow the Shavepate to continue his tortures due to their unreliable results (ADWD Daenerys V). By making this decision, she agreed with Hizdahr and disagreed with the Shavepate.

Dany refuses to use her dragons in battle (ADWD Daenerys V). By making this decision, she agreed with Reznak.

Dany decides not to take the field against Yunkai (ADWD Daenerys V). By making this decision, she agreed with the Shavepate and disagreed with Barristan.

Dany brings the food to the Astapori refugees instead of sending someone else to do it (ADWD Daenerys VI). By making this decision, she disagreed with Reznak, the Shavepate and Barristan.

Dany burns the dead among the Astapori refugees, bathes an old man and shames her men into helping her (ADWD Daenerys VI). By making this decision, she disagreed with Barristan.

Dany refuses to allow Hizdahr’s mother and sisters to inspect her womb and to wash Hizdahr’s feet before he washes hers (ADWD Daeneerys VI). By making this decision, she disagreed with the Green Grace and Reznak.

Dany decides to marry Hizdahr by Ghiscari rites and to wear a white tokar fringed with pearls (ADWD Daenerys VI). By making this decision, she agreed with the Green Grace and Reznak.

Dany allows Hizdahr to reopen the fighting pits (ADWD Daenerys VI). By making this decision, she agreed with Hizdahr, the Green Grace and Reznak.

Dany goes along with a peace agreement with the Yunkish slavers in which she’ll let Yunkai and Astapor reinstall slavery if they leave Meereen intact (ADWD Daenerys VI). By making this decision, she agreed with Hizdahr.

Dany holds court in order to, among other reasons, meet the Westerosi men that came over from the Windblown (ADWD Daenerys VII). By making this decision, she agreed with Daario.

Dany doesn’t accept Quentyn’s marriage proposal because she doesn’t want to abandon her people (ADWD Daenerys VII). By making this decision, she disagreed with Barristan.

Dany doesn’t ride a horse in a tokar to meet Hizdahr (ADWD Daenerys VII). By making this decision, she agreed with Missandei.

Dany decides not to sound out the Company of the Cats (even though she wanted to) because Barristan says he's untrustworthy (ADWD Daenerys VIII). By making this decision, she agreed with Barristan.

Dany attends the reopening of the pits (ADWD Daenerys IX). By making this decision, she disagreed with Missandei.

Dany allows the Brazen Beasts to guard her because she wants to show that she trusts them so that her people can trust them as well (ADWD Daenerys IX). By making this decision, she disagreed with Barristan.

Dany prevents Tyrion and Penny from fighting against lions with wooden swords. By making this decision, she disagreed with Hizdahr.

I didn’t include all of Dany’s decisions because she makes many of them on her own and/or without someone explicitly supporting them or opposing them (in fact, many of the ones above were made without any advisor giving her their feedback, but I listed them if they’re seen agreeing or disagreeing with her onpage anyway). That being said, note that Reznak is the one that Dany is most suspicious of (because he perfectly fits the description of one of the treasoners), but that five of her decisions follow his recommendations, in contrast to Barristan (the knight who she actually trusts and who keeps all her secrets) only having his advice followed twice. Also note that Dany “trusted Skahaz more than she trusted Hizdahr”, but she agreed with the former three times and disagreed with him eight times, in contrast to having agreed with the latter four times and disagreed with him twice. The list clearly shows that Dany listens to everyone’s feedback (including from people she distrusts), considers it carefully, makes her own decisions and handles dissent extremely well. Her actions reflect her own words (“A queen must listen to all. [...] One voice may speak you false, but in many there is always truth to be found”, “It seems to me that a queen who trusts no one is as foolish as a queen who trusts everyone”).

There is, however, one character who is seen only listening to people who agree with her and who distrusts and closes herself off to almost everyone - Cersei Lannister. And it’s especially worth noting that Cersei is meant to be “directly contrasted” with Dany, that the author was “doing point and counterpoint” with them and that each of them is meant to show “a different approach to how a woman would rule in a male dominated, medieval-inspired fantasy world”. In other words, Dany and Cersei are narrative foils, but Cersei’s traits are being transferred to Dany in this essay.

Also, I could just as easily create an entire narrative about how Sansa will end up closing herself off to people based on what we see on canon. She thought she could trust Joffrey, but she ultimately couldn’t. She thought she could trust Cersei, but she ultimately couldn’t. She trusted Sandor, but he left her. She tried to trust the Tyrells, but they ultimately disposed of her after she was no longer necessary. She tried to rely on Dontos, but he was a disappointment and was ultimately murdered. She doesn’t trust Littlefinger, but she needs to stick to his side because she has no better option. She considered telling the Vale lords her identity, but she doesn’t trust them. All of this feeds into Sansa’s distrust of others and will lead to tragic consequences. Indeed, as Sansa herself says, "In life, the monsters win". I bet that the essayist would find this whole speculation biased considering that they favor Sansa's character. But then, why is only Dany singled out as the one who is going to meet her demise even though it’s made clear that she continues to trust people through and through?

The essayist needs to say that Dany starts distrusting people to an unhealthy degree (“As Dany gains more power, [...] her focus on the treasons causes her to push people away, widening the gap between rulership and companionship”; ”The more power she gains, the greater her isolation and likely her fear of betrayal. The fear of betrayal is, of course, human. But GRRM has stated that he likes to turn dramatic situations up to 11, which is necessary to create the Shakespearean tragic hero. Dany’s fear must be larger than life.”), as well as to judge her campaign to take back the Seven Kingdoms based on double standards (“Dany’s great sin within the story’s moral order will have been focusing on the war for Westeros against Aegon VI before she turns to the enemy of the North”) compared to the Starks. If they didn’t do so, there wouldn’t be a reason to justify Dany’s demise. If they didn’t do so, the entire speculation that she’s a Shakespearean tragic hero falls apart. But saying that something is true doesn’t necessarily make it true, you need to provide the textual evidence (which they barely do … They assume that the reader will take almost everything they say for granted. After all, since there’s a prophecy foretelling that Dany will be betrayed three times, of course she’s going to distrust people way too much from now on).

There’s also another aspect of Dany’s relationship with prophecies that the essayist portrays inaccurately. They say that “the effect of this prophecy on Daenerys is multifaceted” for “[promising] greatness” (which, along with the also inaccurate statement that “part of Dany’s pursuit of the Iron Throne is born from a sense of destiny”, implies that Dany wants to be great or that she thinks of herself as great, none of which are true) and pushing her “further from the people who surround her”. I already questioned the latter statement, and the former is inaccurate too. After all, Dany has doubts that there are men in Westeros waiting for the Targaryens to return. The birth of the dragons has to do with the fact that Dany was able to put two and two together with clues from dragon dreams and Mirri's words, not because she thinks she's exceptional. Dany is not really sure that the red comet was meant for her. She followed its direction because the other paths weren't reliable and, even in Qarth, she's unsure that it was meant to guide her to success. Then she never thinks about it again. I'd expect otherwise from someone who thinks they're exceptional. Dany is surprised when told by Quaithe that she's the reason why magic is increasing in the world and never thinks or brags about it after their interaction. I'd expect otherwise from someone who thinks they're exceptional. Dany doesn't think she won any victories in the House of the Undying, she credits Drogon for burning the Undying Ones. She only allows Jhiqui to add a bell to the end of her braid because "the Dothraki would esteem her all the more for a few bells in her hair". Dany refuses to sit on the throne inside the Great Pyramid's audience chamber and chooses to sit on a simple ebony bench that the Meereenese think does "not befit a queen". Dany refuses the offer to have a statue in her image to replace the bronze harpy in the Plaza of Purification. I'd expect otherwise from someone who thinks they're exceptional. Dany is highly self-critical and, later in ADWD, thinks that she "was as clean as she was ever going to be" after taking a bath because she holds herself accountable for the upcoming slaughter in the opening of the fighting pits. I'd expect different from someone that thinks they're exceptional. Dany doesn’t think that the people who came to the reopening of the pits wanted to see her - “it was my floppy ears they cheered, not me”. I'd expect different from someone that thinks they're exceptional. Most of Dany's titles (the Unburnt, Mother of Dragons, Mhysa, Azor Ahai, etc) are given to her by other people, they're not self-proclaimed (not that there's a problem if they were, I'm only saying it to reiterate that Dany doesn't think she's exceptional). The ones that she assumes on her own are the ones that anyone who believes in birthright (i.e., everyone in her time and place, regardless of family, regardless of whether they're Targaryens) would assume.

4) When it comes to requirement 4 (Dany will (according to the essayist’s speculations) take actions that produce “exceptional calamity” and her demise will be “her own choice and doing”) … Well, we now enter the realm of speculation. It’s not impossible that Dany “will feel like a villain to the Westerosi, as she burns their villages and crops ahead of a hard winter” in the future. The problem here, once again, is in the double standards. Look at the way the essayist describes the likely reascendance of the Starks in the upcoming books - “With the death of “good” characters like Ned, the injury of innocents and moments such as the Red Wedding, ASOIAF as a story is not concerned with justice. But as the story progresses, we see that the way Ned ruled his people and raised his children contrasts with characters like Tywin and his methods. Much of the North seems to continue to rally behind the idea of the Starks, some with less “honorable” methods than others, while Tywin’s legacy begins to fall apart. Like in Shakespeare’s tragic world, there appears to be an order that arcs towards a higher idea of goodness that instills a dramatic satisfaction”. Like I said above when I questioned requirement 2, the Starks’ claim to the North is no more justified than Dany’s to the Seven Kingdoms. They have the advantage of having had their rule normalized throughout the thousands of years they ruled the North, but it doesn’t change the fact that, because they’re feudal lords, they still maintain a system rigged in favor of the nobles that promotes social inequality and extreme lack of social mobility. It doesn’t change the fact that there's no righteous form of feudalism. But only Dany is criticized in that sense by the essayist - “By nature, power breeds inequality, when one party has the ability to decide the fate of another. That inequality creates distance. As a queen Dany wields absolute power over the rest of her subjects and her court”. Which is pretty infuriating not only because the Starks are also morally grey in the sense that the essayist describes, but also because GRRM specifically mentioned that Daenerys is the ruler "who wants equality for everyone, she wants to be at the same level as her people". Additionally, if Ned left a legacy that motivated his people to fight against his enemies, so did Dany with the former slaves. But the essayist needs to ignore all of that to paint Dany as a Shakespearean tragic hero.

Even if we don’t take into account what TWOIAF reveals about the Starks’ ancestors, the main story itself often paints House Stark’s actions in a negative light. We see a peasant spitting at the mention of the Starks and saying that things were better with King Aerys II in power. We're told that Northmen looking for Jaime on Edmure’s orders burned a village called Sallydance and were guilty of rape and murder. It’s no wonder that the High Sparrow mentions the wolves along with the lions as threats to the septas. Also, thousands of soldiers died indirectly because of Robb’s decisions, as well as lots of people who remained north and became vulnerable to raping and pillaging due to his inability to hold Winterfell. And finally, when winter comes, the smallfolk will be affected by the actions of the northmen, who (like Dany might do in the future) already helped to disrupt the harvest and to leave the continent short on food. And yet, why is their future success framed as “an order that arcs towards a higher idea of goodness”? Why is Dany the only one who is said to be “giv[ing] into dark desires” by “divid[ing] an already weakened realm” when the Starks (framed as the heroes in the essay) did the same thing? This double standard gets infuriating when one remembers that Dany is the one fighting a war in the name of the disenfranchised (even though she is not connected to them by blood or lands or oath of fealty and doesn’t gain anything by helping them), while the Starks are (and will be, if they want to retake Winterfell) fighting a war because of personal injury (which, sympathetic as it may be, doesn’t justify the damage that they caused to the smallfolk). It gets even more infuriating when, as @rakharo pointed out to me, one remembers that, while Dany is trying to right the wrongs of the Valyrians by ending slavery in Slaver’s Bay, none of the Starks have acknowledged, much less tried to make amends for injustices perpetrated by the First Men against the Children of the Forest. It gets even more infuriating when one remembers that Aegon the Conqueror united Westeros in preparation for the War for the Dawn (something that GRRM himself confirmed), while the Starks’ ancestors conquered the North solely because of their greed. That's why Dany’s story can’t be effective as a tragedy: she’d be punished for starting to do what everyone else was doing after doing more than almost everyone else was doing.

5) When it comes to requirement 5 (Dany “[rose] high in position” and is “an exceptional being”, which sets her apart as a character that fits the mold of the Shakespearean tragedy because her reversal of fortune will highlight “the greatness and piteousness of humanity”), again, we’re in the realm of speculation. But there are some things to question as well. First, the essayist validates the criticisms that Dany “too easily ascends to a position of power” by using them as proof that she’s a tragic character. But that’s not really true, which becomes clear with a few comparisons: the Starks lost their father, mother and older brother throughout the story because of the Lannisters, which Dany also did; but her losses go beyond them: she also lost another brother, her first husband and her first child. The Starks had their direwolves given to them, Dany had to use her intuition and then literally walk into a fire to birth her dragons. Aegon the Conqueror used dragons to take Westeros, Dany conquered three cities without barely using hers. Jon Snow’s conflict in ADWD involves conciliating the Free Folk and the Night’s Watch after he makes decisions favoring the former group, while Dany’s involves conciliating the freedmen and the slavers after she makes decisions favoring the former group, which has a worldwide impact; Jon’s conflict has relatively low stakes (because it hasn’t involved the Others so far), Dany’s conflict leads to “half the world” wanting her dead. As these examples show, Dany suffered more losses than the Starks. Dany had to do a lot more than the Starks to find her animal companions. Dany became a conqueror primarily because of her military strategies and resourcefulness without relying on dragonfire like her ancestor. Dany faced greater opposition than her male counterpart Jon so far. As we can see, gaining power and retaining it has not been easy for Dany at all. Every single one of her accomplishments has been earned. But it sure is interesting that Dany’s supposed future tragedies must stem from her actions, but that her victories aren’t given the proper credit and acknowledged as being a result of what she also did as well.

And then the essayist declares something even more inaccurate: that Dany “overcame each obstacle that came her way” and that “Robb and Jon paid for their mistakes while Dany did not” (which, to the essayist, is evidence that “Dany’s fall is meant to stand in contrast as something grander than just one slip-up”).

First of all, Dany clearly did not overcome every obstacle that came her way. Saying so means ignoring all of her ADWD storyline (and it’s funny how Dany's detractors go from saying that she’s overpowered and hasn’t suffered consequences to accusing her of being a bad ruler precisely because she dealt with the negative consequences of her choices, lol). To recap, Dany had an indirect part in the wars outside Meereen because she left the Yunkish slavers’ wealth intact, which leads to terrible consequences - multiple city-states and sellsword companies joining forces against her, Astapor’s fall, the pale mare’s outbreak, the emergence of refugees from Astapor outside her city and the upcoming Battle of Fire. Dany had an indirect role in the wars inside Meereen because she left most of the Meereenese slavers alive with most of their wealth intact, which leads to terrible consequences - the Sons of the Harpy’s attacks and dozens of freedmen’s deaths. Additionally, Dany had an indirect role in Hazzea’s death because Drogon was allowed to roam freely and she had no way to train him or her brothers. All these problems culminate in Dany agreeing with a peace deal that, as already explained here, was inherently unjust for prioritizing the slavers over the freedmen. Dany had to learn that, as much as she wants peace and to plant trees, there are situations in which she can’t be merciful because violence really is the only way to achieve justice for the disenfranchised. (On the flip side, that’s one of the reasons why I’m critical of the theory that Dany accidentally burns King’s Landing. When she was merciful, as I just listed, great tragedies occurred (which is fine, it was a realistic exploration of what happens when you abolish slavery and try to do good). When she used fire and blood, great tragedies will occur too? Even though she would be acting just like the Starks or any other feudal lord by fighting for her birthright? The theory narratively punishes Dany in a way that it doesn't do with the Starks, which is why it's no wonder that it was created by someone with Stark/Stannis biases. Additionally, it validates the common belief that Dany is only meant to be a wartime queen, even though she’s already showed that she’s a good peacetime ruler.)

Second, is dying the only way to pay for one’s mistakes (considering that only Robb and Jon are listed as examples of characters who did)? I don’t think so. Consider Sansa. Didn’t she pay for the mistake of going to Cersei to tell her of Ned’s plan? I would say she did. I would say the author agrees - “Sansa was the least sympathetic of the Starks in the first book; she has become more sympathetic, partly because she comes to accept responsibility for her part in her father's death”. Similarly, Dany had to accept her indirect responsibility for the tragedies that I just listed (Hazzea, forgive me; No marriage would ever bring them back to life, but if a husband could help end the slaughter, then she owed it to her dead to marry.; “I should’ve gone to Astapor. [...] I am the queen. It was my place to know.”; “What kind of mother has no milk to feed her children?”). I would argue that Dany and Sansa both paid for her mistakes, which were acknowledged, made them suffer and influenced their character developments. But the essayist needs to say that Dany didn’t pay for them (or that she had an easy rise to power) to help to paint her as a Shakespearean tragic hero.

6) Now that the essayist’s five requirements have all been questioned, I would also like to mention positive prophecies and speculations related to Dany that are never brought up in this essay.

First, Dany is AA/PTWP/SWMTW. That was heavily foreshadowed (read more about it here) and built up to and, if it doesn’t happen, it frankly would be bad writing. After all, haven’t readers praised GRRM for the foreshadowing of Ned’s death (e.g., a stag having killed the mother direwolf in the beginning of AGOT)? Haven’t readers praised GRRM for the foreshadowing of the Red Wedding (which we see from Tyrion’s to Theon’s to Dany’s chapters)? And yet, the essayist thinks that Dany’s death will cause “the forces [to] become more even, making victory less sure, or the Others surpass the side of the living in strength” and that “the White Walkers gain Drogon, becoming one-on-one but with the White Walkers having the larger dragon.”

Second, Dany and Bran both have dreams in AGOT leading up to their magical awakening. Bran needs to fly to escape from the “cold” of the darkness below, while Dany needs to run from the “icy breath behind”. Both of these dreams culminate with Bran and Dany learning to fly and accepting their magical destinies, which will be important in the War for the Dawn. And yet, the essayist thinks that “by understanding that the concept of warmth is tied to companionship, we can understand that the cold, “icy breath” must represent the opposite: loneliness” to justify Dany’s demise. Instead, it's clear (especially considering the parallels with Bran) that "icy breath" is an allusion to the Others. But they can't acknowledge that Dany will have a crucial role in the War for the Dawn, otherwise their entire speculation falls apart.

Third, Quaithe was presented as the third of the three Qartheen envoys (after Pyat Pree and Xaro) that came to find Dany in Vaes Tolorro, which heavily implies that she breaks the norm and is the one person that Dany can trust. And yet, the essayist takes for granted that Quaithe’s “narrative connection to betrayal is already established”.

Fourth, Dany might as well be the prophesied betrayer, not the one who’s betrayed by three people (after all, she’s already been betrayed by more than three people - Jorah, Mirri, Pyat Pree, Xaro, Brown Ben, the person that gave her the poisoned locusts, etc). It would fit with the pattern of Dany being an active participant in the prophecies rather than a passive one (e.g. Dany is AA/PTWP, not the one who gives birth to the AA/PTWP or the one who dies as a sacrifice to AA/PTWP) even though, at first, the readership is expected to think otherwise. And yet, the essayist takes for granted that Dany will be betrayed because otherwise their entire speculation falls apart.

Fifth, Dany is foreshadowed to have a positive relationship with Jon because “the blue flower” from the “wall of ice” filled the air with “sweetness”. And yet, the essayist needs to say that Dany "[will push] Jon away [...] from fear of betrayal and hurt” and from worries that he might be a “usurper” (nevermind that they are mischaracterizing Dany as someone overfocused on retaking the Iron Throne and who closes herself off due to prophecies, none of which are not true, as I already showed above) because otherwise their entire speculation falls apart.

7) Finally, I would also like to ask: what’s the point of giving Dany a storyline like this? Not only because it would be unearned due to the double standards and the changes that would have to occur in her characterization, but also because Dany has a special place in the narrative. She is 1) one of the two women (along with Asha) claiming power in her own right and the only one that we actually got to see rule, 2) one of three Chosen Ones (along with Bran and Jon) and the only female one, 3) one of two POV revolutionaries (along with Jon) and the only female one (and the one whose storyline arguably has the most political messages since she’s fighting against human slavery), 4) one of two POV female rulers (along with Cersei) and the only one who’s been depicted as competent (because she subverts the Good Princess Evil Queen dichotomy), 5) one of two Targaryen conquerors (three, if Young Griff does indeed take Westeros) and the only female one - “Aegon the Conqueror with teats”, 6) the only major mother who isn’t sure to be doomed and/or hasn’t gone mad, 7) one of two Targaryen queens regnant (along with Rhaenyra) and the only remaining Targaryen woman who gets to have power after a long line of Targaryen women - Rhaenyra herself, but also Rhaena, Aerea, Rhaella, Daenerys (Alysanne’s daughter), Rhaenys the Queen Who Never Was, Baela, Rhaena of Pentos, Daena - who were disempowered. GRRM already has a terrible history with female leaders in particular. If he causes the downfall of another one (especially one who is also one of the five main protagonists) for such unearned reasons like the ones that the essayist laid out, there would also be sexist implications. It would make the only she-king that we saw wielding power onpage overly defined by violence and destruction in a way kings don't have to be depending on their actions, it makes the only competent POV female ruler look incompetent in comparison to the other POV male rulers and it makes her conquest a disaster while the other male Targaryen conqueror (two, if Young Griff takes Westeros) gets to succeed. And yet, death by childbirth is the only speculation that the essayist calls out as problematic (“death by childbirth is a uniquely biologically female phenomenon and would be punishing Daenerys for her sexuality”).

8) What I find insidious about essays like this one is that they pretend to be unbiased (I do not argue for the death of Daenerys as a judgement on her ethical/moral goodness as a character nor of the world she inhabits. I argue it on the strength of her characterization and story, that she should be able to encompass such intensity and greatness as to be considered as complex as all these other single-name headliners in literature.) even though they really aren't. To recap, the essayist portrays Dany as someone with "violent" impulses even though she's a merciful person in general, accepts the peace deal with the slavers as valid even though it prioritizes the slavers' privileges over the lives of marginalized people, only talks about the negative connotations of fire, downplays Dany's compassion and sense of justice, argues that Dany is losing her ability to trust others even though she isn't, says that Dany is negatively affected by promises of greatness even though she isn't, argues that Dany had an easy rise to power and didn't pay for her mistakes even though she did, paints Dany's campaign to take the Iron Throne in a negative light without doing the same with the Starks having dominance over the North and ignores Dany's foreshadowing as AA/PTWP, as well as her special place in the narrative. So it’s not that Dany stans are unable to accept Dany’s mistakes and flaws, it’s that people who dislike her can’t understand her characterization or acknowledge the double standards against her or accept her particular place in the story. At the end of the day, an essay like this one is no better than jonsa metas mindlessly hating on Dany because, just like them, as @semperty and @niniane17 made clear, it also creates speculations with the intent of making Dany self-destruct and become irrelevant to pave the way for their preferred characters. The only difference is that it's more successful at appearing "neutral" to someone who doesn't remember what happened in the books very well, especially because Dany has become a polarizing character for a variety of reasons and it's easy to buy into the Appeal to Moderation fallacy.

Also, as I said before, the fact that these Twitter 'neutrals' all misunderstand Dany's characterization, downplay her struggles and judge her by different standards actually makes me somewhat hopeful that she's getting a better ending, because how can their speculations come true if they don't know Dany at all? But then, it's hard to trust GRRM.

#daenerys targaryen #asoiaf meta #answered

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kirishimas-manly-eyeliner · 3 years

Text

A full, entire list of headcanons for a day with:

1. ☼ waking up with him ☼6am-8am

i don’t know about y’all, but i like to headcanon that todoroki’s morning face is absolutely adorable 🥺

he doesn’t wake up like mr. perfect whenever you see him, but since it’s so early in the morning, his cheeks are just- so- squishyyyy

he looks like a fricken baby with the softest expressions ever

he stares at you and grins, still lying down and stretching his arms out

todoroki doesn’t look at his phone first thing in the morning, or even go to wash his face once he wakes up

the very first thing he does when he wakes up is to gently wrap his arms around your still body, as he kisses your scalp and holds you in the quiet of the morning

he likes to stare at your face, so calm and just so… at peace

he caresses his hand on your cheek before kissing your nose 🥺🥺

he wakes you up in such a gentle way that it’s just not even funny omfg-

i like to imagine that he opens up the curtains for gentle light first, and opens up the window for a cool wave of air

he takes your hand, “good morning, princess.”

“‘morning, my prince, but can we have like,, five more minutes-”

“i already know five minutes is the same thing as ten minutes for you. we should get up while we can.”

“alright, fine, but good morning to you too,”

his hair is ruffled in this ADORABLE WAY that makes my heART SIMPLY COMBUST

for breakfast, i LiKE tO tHiNK tHaT hE TakEs BaCon AnD sLapS iT oN hiMsELf-

i’m only like,, half-kidding, but uGH PLEASE GIVE HIM SOME SOBA AND LET HIM DO THE REST

man’s got everything handled, don’t worry ‘bout it 😌😌

for morning training, it starts as early as 7 in the morning

it’s nothing too intense, more of just him doing yoga

OMGWFHFIUHLIUF TODOROKI WOULD EITHER SLAY AT YOGA OR JUST SUCK IN GENERAL

NO IN-BETWEEN AT ALL

he literally looks like a fricken stick trying to bend and he’s just so awkward and flustured like ????

or either, man’s is SLAYING IT and hitting that tree pose, absolutely nailing the downward dog and killing it with the cobra

you laugh at him as he smiles, and expect him to do the,, lil,, lingering touches if y’all know what i mean ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

you had to buy multiple yoga mats because he ended up singeing them all on accident when he got flustered

and yes, his left side sets on fire when he’s flustered, and that is just the softest thing

2. ☏ [2/5] going to online school with him ☏ 8am-12pm, 2pm-4pm

todoroki makes sure that you focus, which is kinda a problem if you’re like me

…and you just don’t focus-

dw though, because if you ever zone out, man’s will be sure to be prepared because he can and will force you into getting focused again

he promises you a kith whenever you finish a class 🥺🥺❤️

“i love you, but i really don’t want to do this today.”

(honestly, i would like to headcanon that you probably do online school with rolling chairs, so you’re probably gonna be spinning whenever you get bored)

“and i love you, but here we are, my love. the day will be over before you know it,” he brings out the softest smile ever before cupping your face and pecking your nose

since todoroki has online class as well, he sits next to you to be able to hold your hand off-camera beCAUSE YAS

if you two ever get caught, his left side literally lights tf up

you thought man’s would be cool and collected the whole time, but NOPE HE’S JUST AS FLUSTURED AS YOU BABY

but you put it aside and say you were just petting your cat

todoroki also most definitely has some sort of fancy candle or a spray or whatever that he uses to stay focused

once or twice, he’ll most definitely spray way too much, so in one instance you had to go outside

in the backyard

and do your homework there as the wind blew all of your printed papers away

but anyways-

todoroki is on the top of his game to make sure that yOU STAY HYDRATED

IF YOU’RE READING THIS GO DRINK SOME WATER YOU MALNOURISHED AND DEHYDRATED ANGEL

he smiles at you whenever he sees that you’re stuck, and the way his eyebrows furrow in such a cute way just fricken asdfghjklkmnbvcxzaqwertyujhgcwjvhhviu

if you ever get burnt out, he plants a kiss on your forehead and holds you until you have to go to your next class, and gets you a wet towel to just feel better and *sparkles* fresher

oh and FIGHT ME, he most definitely opens up the doors and uses natural light rather than turning the lights on

if you ever feel frustrated or just feel too overhwhelmed, he takes your hand and asks you to breathe with him before pulling you into a hug

he would be such a good companion for online school, please keep him 🥺

3. ♨ lunch + study sessions with todoroki ♨ 12-1pm

SOBA

IF YOU CAME HERE AND EXPECTED SMTHN ELSE YOU CONFUSE ME

hear me out, todoroki literally makes the best soba in the world

expect him to use his quirk and make it colder bc no one wants warm soba

especially todoroki 😠😠❤️❤️

while you’re taking a nap or you’re trying to catch up on your homework, man’s is making absolute magic in the kitchen

when he calls you into the kitchen to eat, everything is set in such an aesthetically pleasing way

“todo, you made this?”

he’ll grin and say quietly, “no, my love. someone attacked and came in and made this and left through the window.”

he’s such a dork sometimes we love that

you also take a lot of photos before you eat, and the way your eyes light up fills him with so much happiness

“how does it taste?”

“you’re making me sound like i’m on master chef or something, one second, i’m still taking the photo!”

but when you do eat it, every time, even when you might not like it– you compliment him

and he literally acts like a child in that time and i think that’s ADORABLE

as for the study sessions, he makes sure that you actually focus instead of wasting the hour you guys have together

and even if you don’t want to, he drags your butt from where you were procrastinating

“it’s out of love.”

“out of love? babe i was having such a nice nap, are you kidding me?”

todoroki just grins as he opens up the windows for ventilation to study

i like to headcanon that he honestly probably listens to classical music when he studies

he despises jazz

i should literally make a list of headcanons for class 1a and their music taste-

he sends you little texts whenever he sees you get bored and go on your phone

4. ☼ ☽ [4/5] showers with todoroki + cuddling ☾☼5-8pm

you had a long day at work, and you were just getting things ready and preparing to go to bed

tired and exhausted, your body trudged towards into the bath for a much needed shower

you rubbed your eyes, drained and exhausted as your eyes locked with todoroki’s

…wait, todoroki’s?

“ah! i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to, just-”

he peeks his head through the shower door, “no, i don’t mind it. care to join me?”

“i- wha?”

but come on, how could you reject something like this? you stepped into the shower before goin’ like “JEEZ WHY’S IT SO COLD????”

todoroki just stares at you, insanely confused, “…what do you mean?”

“you should at least raise the temperature a little, if that’s okay with you?”

being honest, todoroki genuinely forgot that cold showers weren’t a universal thing– it was only then that he realized, since the tea kettle incident, he’d almost by-default take cold showers

but he’d honestly do anything for you, so he raises the temperature as he holds you, his skin soft and the shower finally beginning to steam up a bit

todoroki uses the best shampoo smell in the entire world

just imagine the best scent in the entire world, but at first, you could only find a hint of it, and you thought that what you could smell was all you had

but then WABAM, one day an entire jackpot just shows up with everything

that’s what it feels like showering with todoroki

honestly, the man’s there whenever you need him

definitely loves to play with your hair in the shower, his hands are somehow so soft as he kisses your scalp

but shoto tries his best not to take too many peeks, and if he does he apologizes lmao

OH OH and he most definitely uses your lotion on one instance, so this one time when you saw him come out of the shower you’re just like,, “is that,, my lotion?”

he just stares and nods. “yeah.”

you laugh as you cup his face in your hands, “it smells good, i like it. but keep in mind i have to pay for that-”

he probably says it’s fine and uses endeavor’s credit card

even when you’re in the shower though and he sees your body for the first time, he flushes like crazy

what is this feeling??

he might see your stretch marks, he might see your scars, your acne, whatever it is you’re insecure about, but he gingerly and just so carefully kisses them all

“you’re… beautiful.”

for cuddling, he probably does the same thing– he holds your hand, and if he notices your scars, he kisses them and pulls you in closer to his chest

ALSO LIKE JEEZ MAN’S IS TOUCH STARVED

PLEASE GIVE HIM CUDDLES OMFG

please kiss his scar btw, he might be kind of sensitive about it, but it definitely makes him feel less insecure about it

he might be honestly going on his phone and looking through the news, or he might be looking at cooking videos ngl-

*cough cough soba*

he caresses your cheek, expect him to not know how to act at first

but then he decides to try making the first move and spoons you

bUT LIKE- I CAN SEE HIM AS THE LIL’ SPOON 😭

you make him so insanely happy

5. dating todoroki would include…

hate to break it to y’all’s, but man’s takes an eternity to ask you out

he probably went to the bakusquad for love advice

the poor bby is so confused, and at first, he’s convinced he has a disease

“i think… i’m allergic to y/n.”

(he’s still with the bakusquad,) “what do you mean?” denki honestly be tapping his pencil as he stares at todoroki

“whenever i go near them– i end up feeling weird, i suppose. i get nervous. i don’t know why though. i feel oddly giddy when i talk to them. should i get it checked out?”

at this point, mina and denki’s efforts to hide in laughs are in vain

when they actually burst out, they end up laughing so hard that they get tears in their eyes

todoroki is so confused, “???????”

sero def joins in with the drama, “i-” he stops to snort, “todoroki, have you ever heard of a crush?”

todoroki stands, dumbfounded for a solid minute before his ENTIRE left side just starts toasting

“i… i do like y/n. i like y/n. i like y/n. i like y/n.”

POOR BABY GOES CRAZY and repeats that statement for a solid minute yet again

he’s very confused and flustered at the same time

todoroki honestly tries asking the entire class what to do for his date, and everyone is saying something completely different:

“a movie theatre, kero.”

“an at-home dinner, maybe? you can save money-”

“study dates are very important.”

“✨ take her to the disco ✨“

“go to the amusement park!”

“maybe you two can just have a walk around town?”

“go to a strip clu-”

“SHUT UP MINETA-”

at the end of the day, todoroki’s left more confused than he ever was before, so he just decides to go for it all on his own

after a few more hours of contemplating his date and life choices, he decides how to ask you and where to take you

once he musters the courage, he asks you to meet him after class

you’re lowkey confused, but definitely giddy to be able to meet your crush again

at first, todoroki had this entire speech planned, but the moment he saw you, he stopped and forgot all of his words

“uh, do you want to eat food?”

took a while for you to realize what he was implying, and the way he was flushing and looking at the floor was just so soft and you nodded–

“you mean– go on a date?”

todoroki, still very much hiding his face, nods

“haha, i’d love to! where should we go?”

it takes him a while to compose himself again as he stares at you,

“would the ice skating rink be okay?”

so that day, that’s just what you did :DD

at first, todoroki’s kind of scared to hold your hand in case he ends up getting too caught up in himself

but eventually, you let him know that you don’t really mind as you head over to the rink

Elsa Todoroki for 2021™

man’s is a NATURAL

he be gliding everywhere, and you can see him for a split second, smiling as he skates around so fricken gracefully and i think that’s adorable

todoroki laughs into your ear as he pulls you in to help you balance

you two were skating normally, until you were suprised in the back of the rink as you fell over

“are you okay?”

“yeah, i’m good, don’t worry about it-!”

he pulls you up, his hands firm against yours

for a split second, you make eye contact for a few seconds too long

he finds himself lost in them, as he tightens the grip on your hands, your body still leaning against his arms as if you were in mid-salsa dance

he gazes into your eyes, before thinking: “this is the person. this is the person that i want to spend my whole life, an entire life with– they’re so strong, caring, kind… and there’s so much more to them than i thought.”

…before pressing his lips onto yours, and suddenly, everything stops

your mind is empty and blank, when you realize:

shoto todoroki is kissing you

and you were kissing him back.

you almost forget that breathing is a thing before you realize that you were nearly out of breath as todoroki pulled away before kissing you again, his hands cupping your face as you pulled closer against his chest

when you finish, you see that parts of his jacket were smoking after the kiss

literally smoking

“that was… that was… wow.”

todoroki laughs, “wow was right, a word i’d use.”

you’re about to talk again, when you hear screaming and cheering in the background

“LET’S!! GO!! Y/N!! AND!! TODO!! ROKI!!”

and yas– the entire bakusquad, willingly or unwillingly followed you there

even if it was a lot, todoroki’s happier than ever as he kisses you again

and all you could say?

that day the best day of your life.

thank you for making it this far, love!! this will be a continued series with bakugo + izuku coming up next, stay tuned :) to join my taglist for the next few characters, click here ^^

taglist: @cherry-cake-pies, @xuxisushi-1

#FINALLY FINISHED IT WUFHWLIUFHIUF #WHY IS IT SO HARD WRITING FOR TODOROKI???#PLS GIVE ADVICE #todoroki x reader #todoroki x gn!reader #todoroki hcs #mha hcs #shoto todoroki hcs #please reblog! <3 ^^;;;;#shoto todoroki headcanons #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #todoroki x you #todoroki

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jinkicake · 4 years

Text

Periods Don’t Stop Nothing But A Sentence

Akaashi, Kageyama learn about the benefits of having sex while you’re on your period and offer their help.

Akaashi Keiji x Reader

Kageyama Tobio x Reader

Anon,,, you know Kageyama makes me act up so this might be a little wild... I hope you like it!!!! I love writing for Akaashi,,,, Kageyama is so difficult but I also adore writing for him too. That is my baby! Bruh, not @ me being on my period and writing my feelings out through this bc I want Ushiten to double team me.

SMUT // NSFW

WC- 1,182

~~~

Akaashi Keiji

Allow me to be bold and state that Akaashi is a freak… you can’t convince me otherwise,,,,, It doesn’t really have anything to do with this but I don’t think I have ever said it before

Knowing his relatively calm and blunt personality, I don’t think Akaashi would care much that you’re on your period

He might have to warm up to the idea though, he would only do it if you wanted it or if he knew it would make you feel good

I think he would have to be convinced in the sense that you actually want it and you’re not just doing it to satisfy him,,,,, he’s selfless what can I say

“It’ll really help you feel better, (Y/N)?” He’d sound so skeptical and then look it up, scrolling through the multiple articles with tired eyes,,,,,,,

Akaashi would prepare everything beforehand, he would make sure it will all be clean before and after just to make you feel better and can go right to sleep after you’re done,,,,,,,, yeah Akaashi gonna fuck you to sleep!

He is doing this for you because he wants to take away some of the pain you are suffering from, and maybe it’ll help shorten your period! Thanks for letting Akaashi know that, period sex guide 101 !

Akaashi is going to act like he is doing this solely for you but you know….

Of course, he is getting something from it too!!! You know deep down he is riled up and excited

I feel like when he fucks you,,,, he is going to confess how hot he thinks the entire situation is HAHAHA It is kinda out of character, which makes it even more ideal~

Akaashi has you pressed against the shower wall, your chest is pinned against the cold tile while one of his hands is wrapped around your waist and the other is gripping your hip. His first initial thrusts are slow and shallow, dragging himself in and out of your tense walls to leave you blazing inside. His slender cock just barley brushes along your g-spot, leaving you speechless and unable to form a coherent thought.

“Keiji,” You whisper out before another loud moan takes over your voice. Akaashi kisses your shoulder, not letting up his slow pace, you can feel him smirking against your skin. His touch leaves a trail of fire in its wake and you press your cheek against the cold wall for relief, to cool down just a little bit.

“The way you are so weak for me,” Akaashi whispers in your ear, his voice lowering, the air he blows into your sensitive ear makes you thrust back against him. “is the hottest thing I have ever seen. You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?” He chuckles quietly and grits his teeth before bottoming out inside of you. The grip he has on your hip tightens and he forces you to grind down against him, your walls pulsate around him and Akaashi moans at the sensation. “Go at your own pace, pretty girl.”

You sway yourself on his length, moving your hips in circles as you desperately hold onto the wall. Akaashi removes the grip he has on your side and reaches up to grab the showerhead, putting it on the softest setting before bringing it down to your clit. The stream against such a sensitive spot makes you jolt and you glance at Akaashi, squeezing your thighs together in pleasure.

“It’s all yours my love, all for you, use it exactly the way you want.”

Kageyama Tobio

Pls… Kageyama is so clueless,,, I feel like he wouldn’t know shit about periods…. At the same time, he also has a sister so maybe he isn’t as clueless as I think???

I can imagine Kageyama walking in on you curled up into a ball because of cramps and he’s like “you good?” …. man would not have any clue why you were in so much pain

Then you tell him you’re on your period and Kageyama is like ‘oh’….. cue him to researching ways to help you feel better

He’d buy you a heating pad and warm foods because the internet told him to do so,,,, then he comes across an article talking about how orgasms can relieve your period pains and Kageyama is like 0.0

Because,,, he starts thinking about having sex with you and wow, now he has a boner

He continues to read the article and many others because when he brings it up with you, he doesn’t want to seem like a perv who is only suggesting it because he wants to get his dick wet!

I feel like Kageyama would send you the link via text message or simply slide you his phone with the page already pulled up,,,, I don’t think he has the nerve to straight out ask you

And you’re like….. uhhhhh and Kageyama is all red-faced with his lips pushed together in a little pout

“I want to help you with your…. pain” He motions his hand in-between your hips and can’t even find it in himself to say the word ‘period’ LMFAOOO

Kageyama does not care that you’re on your period, he is not scared of blood or grossed out in any way,,,,,, if he wants to fuck you and you want to fuck him, nothing can get in the way of it LOL

“T-Tobio,” You mewl and wiggle your hips, pressing your ass down into the mattress. “that feels so good.” Tears prick at the corner of your eyes and Kageyama swallows the groan that desperately wants to leave his lips. He glances at the towel and makes sure it is still in place so he can clean you up afterward. He doesn’t focus on it for long, not with the way you’re sucking him in like this, Kageyama can’t get over how tight you are.

“Relax, babe.” He grunts and dips his head, his hips stutter when he feels his knees go weak. “Is this too much?” Kageyama glances at you cautiously as he gently stimulates your clit. Mr.-PhD-in-period-sex-after-reading-four-articles remembers how sensitive the body can get during the monthly flow. He’s worried, Kageyama wants it to be pleasurable and not painful.

“Keep going Tobio, just like that, I’m okay.” You reassure him and arch your back at one of his particularly hard thrusts. Something about Kageyama being so attentive makes this experience that much better, it is like he is doing it solely for you and that control you have with him makes your knees weak. With shaky, wobbly legs you lift your bottom half up so you can bend one of your legs towards your chest. You aren’t able to hold the position long but at that moment Kageyama was able to thrust so deeply inside of you, you felt him in your guts.

“More, I need more Tobio!” You whine frustratedly as your walls convulse around him, your much-needed orgasm washes over you and can’t help but demand more. “Please, I want more."

Kageyama glances down at your pitiful eyes and leans forward to kiss your forehead before taking the same claim on your cheeks.

“Be patient baby, I’ll give you another. Relax for me, first."

Taglist.

@yams046 @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy @xhanjisungiex @xxashshs @chaosamu @angelkogane @augustdearly @kunimwuah @lovellucy @osamuonigiri

#akaashi keiji x reader #Kageyama Tobio x reader #akaashi x reader #kageyama x reader #akaashi smut #kageyama smut #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu smut

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chrisevansgoodgirl · 3 years

Text

you got a fetish for my love, i push you out and you come right back

summary: the softest man in the world is in love

warnings: nick is a warning. how dare he. smut. smoking (but we’re trying to get him to stop). some of that daddy shit bc ugh, that beard.

word count: around 5,320

pairing: nick vaughan x reader

a/n: let me tell you, it is weird writing nick one second, the softest, sweetest man, and then switching over to ransom, aka satan.

“You shouldn’t be smoking.”

The man with his back to you turned around, arching an eyebrow. “And why is that?”

You brought your hands up to your waist, looking as confident as you could possibly make yourself look. You didn’t have a mirror on you, but you would bet it wasn’t very convincing. “Um, second-hand smoke. Third-hand smoke. Not to mention what it could do to you.”

Moving closer, he took another brief drag. “And what’s that?”

You huffed. Really? You were going to reach way back into your 8th-grade health class memories for that. “Lung disease, it can cause cancer, like, everywhere, heart disease—”

“But you’re already taking care of my heart, angel.”

You fell silent at that, frowning.

He continued to close the gap between you. “What else?”

“It’s bad for your skin,” you asserted, tone firm despite how close he was getting. “Causes wrinkles.”

“That so?”

You nodded, refusing to step back as he stopped mere inches before you. “We wouldn’t want anyone to think you’re my father.”

He smirked, dropping his cigarette on the floor and stepping on it with the toe of his boot. Boots that were far too expensive to be stepping on cigarettes with. Hell, he shouldn’t even have been outside with them. “No, we wouldn’t want that.”

Your gaze moved off to the side and finally, you stepped away to create some distance. ‘You said you were going to stop, Nick.”

“I know, I’m trying.”

“Try harder. I’m being serious, okay? People die—”

He moved back in front of you and took your chin in his hand, forcing your gaze up to his. “I’m working on it.”

“If you really care about me, you’ll stop.”

“I’m gonna stop,” he promised. “Soon. Come on, don’t give me those eyes.”

He loved your eyes. He had to have told you about a hundred times by now, claimed he liked the innocence in them that never seemed to die out. No matter how many times he took you up to his hotel room and fucked you in every filthy way he could think of. Sure, it was pretty sick sometimes, but he always touched you so softly, whispered the sweetest things to you, and held you afterward.

Your eyes could make him do just about anything, he would often declare. Except, apparently, stop smoking.

“Come on, I’m sorry.”

You crossed your arms, pulling out of his hold. “You’re only sorry you got caught.”

“No, I’m sorry for upsetting you.”

“And don’t be sorry to just me, be sorry to yourself. I think you need healthy lungs for your music career, right?”

He lifted his eyebrows, still amused at how serious you were being. No one in New York took smoking seriously.

“Also, you ever stop and think about what would happen to me if you weren’t here?” That was a little on the sneaky side. You knew that there was the overall scenario of you being lonely, but he would soon start to think about how that would mean you would be with other people.

He scoffed, feigning calmness. “No, I don’t. I don’t want you to, either.”

You didn’t need to hear it, you knew he could connect the dots. “You are forcing me to.”

“Angel, what’s all this about?” he wondered. “Why are you being such a brat?”

“I’m not being a brat,” you immediately protested. Even though you knew he didn’t mind, there was just something in you that twisted at the thought of being bratty. You were not trying to be argumentative even, you were just worried.

“You want daddy to spank you?”

You looked around with wide eyes. Not that anyone in New York had the time or interest to listen to anyone else’s conversations, but still, this was private. “Nick.”

He tsked. “Nick?”

You sighed, casting a look around. “There are too many people here.”

He chuckled. “No one’s listening, angel.”

“I’m not being bratty,” you muttered. “I’m just concerned about you. Since when is that a crime?”

He smiled, reaching his hand out for you. You didn’t waste any time nearly wrapping your entire body around his arm. “What do you want?”

You were not getting away this time, he was also in a mood. Evidently, since he usually spoiled you to the point of letting you get away with “misbehaving” if you apologized or feigned discomfort.

“Take me upstairs, daddy.” It was hardly above a whisper, but it thrilled him to no end that he’d managed to get you to call him that outside of the absolute comfort of the bedroom.

Nick liked you feeling safe with him. He’d never met a more trusting soul, someone almost naive. However, it had taken him a long fucking time to get that sincere trust from you. He picked up on the body language, the things you wouldn’t say. That was why he could give the date for the night you finally let him fuck you with the lights on, the night you finally stayed with him until morning, the night you finally gave him your number because he had convinced you to sneak away from your dad to meet him at the hotel and you had to get back home but you still wanted to talk to him. He could give the date for the first morning you woke up and put on one of his shirts, the morning you let him eat you out for the first time, the morning you let him fuck you against the hotel window.

He wrapped his arms around you and started to lead you inside. It had been almost a year now and you were obsessed with Nick. He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen, and he was kind and gentle, but also passionate and sometimes a little rough when he knew you wanted him to be. It was never mindless, hard fucking. Even when he made it hurt, he held you so close, so tight, his eyes would remain on yours the whole time. He would wipe away your tears and continue bucking his hips. He would whisper to you, coo at you, and make you fall apart until you were so exhausted you couldn’t keep your eyes open.

You were pretty sure you were in love with him. He would be the first. Sure, there was your first boyfriend who you had wanted to be your first for everything. He’d given you a promise ring and told you that he wanted to wait until you were his wife. That one didn’t end well. Your third boyfriend, you thought that one was real. You’d had sex with him, and then he completely disappeared. To this day, you had no idea where he was. But you knew now, those things you’d felt for them, they were so small, so weak. What you felt for Nick was consuming, you felt like every inch of you belonged to him, like you were made for him.

In the elevator, with an elderly couple, an older man, and a party of four younger women that looked like they were on their way to a club, Nick had his lips to your ear. “Angel, I’m gonna fuck you until you’re crying. You know I love those sounds you make and the look you give me when you just can’t take anymore. When your beautiful, little cunt is used and aching and dripping with my cum. But that’s only after I have you on the bed, wet, squirming, begging daddy to make you feel good.”

You felt like you were on fire. If anyone heard, you would be mortified, you would never be able to leave your house again. Things like this were supposed to be private, between the people who were doing it. Nick had the audacity to make some of it almost public. You would admit that there was the tiniest bit of thrill, but most of it was fear and panic.

He touched the side of your face and you startled a little, one of your hands coming up to settle over his forearm. “Jesus, you’re beautiful and so fucking…innocent.”

You were not innocent. You weren’t even sure what he meant by that. Ever. When he said it, you were confused each time.

“The thought of your gorgeous lips wrapped around my cock, trying to take all you can because you’re so good to me, those eyes staring up at me…”

You swallowed thickly, eyes moving to the elevator buttons. How many more god damn floors were there? The elevator stopped again seconds later, and the elderly couple got out. Fewer people but you still didn’t feel any less nervous.

“Afterward, your sweet, tight pussy will be dripping. You know how wet you get after you suck my cock.”

Embarrassingly wet. He was fascinated the first time you’d done it, then he laid you out on the bed and when he made the discovery, he ate you out until you could barely remember what year it was.

“Then I’m gonna have you on top of me, angel. You’re so good at it, I swear you were made just to ride my cock. Remember what you were begging me for last time?”

You remembered and instantly felt your skin burning all over again.

“Maybe I’ll fuck your—”

The elevator stopped on your floor and you rushed out. The group of girls was also getting out, creating some time for you to get away from Nick and breathe. He was always intense, and he never stopped pushing you. You didn’t necessarily hate it. Really, you knew you liked it, but you could never admit that to him, his behavior would just get worse.

He found you with your back pressed against the door, waiting patiently for him. He’d been staying here for several months; he had the same room because he’d wanted to give you a key. For emergencies, he claimed. If you ever needed a place to get away, even if he wasn’t home. It had only happened a few times, he wouldn’t say a word when he would find you bundled up in his bed. He would just join you under the sheets and make you come several times, at least.

He set his hands on your hips and you looked up to him. “What’s on your mind tonight?”

You woke up that morning just knowing. You were in love with Nick and you were terrified. You didn’t want to be in love, not with him. With his music career taking off, he couldn’t want something serious. You figured this was just him wasting time. When he was an established name, he would go out and find himself a proper partner. It wasn’t you, this shy, small thing with no backbone, terrible parents, and no solid plans for your future.

But why ruin a good thing? You wanted to let it last while you could. You smiled at him and shook your head. “Nothing, really. I missed you.”

He smiled back. “I missed you, too.”

You didn’t live in New York with your father, but you had been visiting a lot more frequently. Your father was thrilled about it, thrilled enough not to want to question it. Your mother took it as an insult and didn’t ask a single question about why. It was honestly the perfect crime.

It had only been three weeks since you’d last been with Nick, you were allowing for less time to pass in between the nights you spent with him. You once went a month and a half, how unimaginable that felt—you knew you wouldn’t be able to do that anymore. You would go crazy without him being able to touch you for six weeks.

“You could stay,” he pointed out. “Here. With me.”

You scoffed. “No, I can’t.”

“You could apply to NYU, I’m sure you’ll get in. You could start building your life over here. If not with me, why not live with your dad?”

This was getting serious and you were worried this conversation would wreck everything. Nick thought he wanted something, but only because he was scared. You didn’t want to uproot your entire life for something fleeting.

“I don’t want to talk about this tonight,” you said quietly.

“Okay. But we will. Later.”

You nodded—a lie. You wouldn’t even be with him much longer. You had breakfast you’re your dad and then you would be on a flight back to your mother’s. “Yeah.”

Smiling, he asked, “Well, what do you want to talk about?”

You shrugged. “I don’t want to talk.”

He hummed. “No? You don’t have more scolding to do?”

“I can wait,” you teased. Your eyes flit to either side just to make sure no one was around. “But right now, I just want you to touch me.”

He bent down just slightly to pick you up by your thighs. You eagerly wrapped yourself around him and pressed your lips to his, kissing him like it’d been years.

He struggled to open the door, but you didn’t seem to mind that you could get caught at any moment, you seemed completely distracted by him. That was his goal, make your time here so good that eventually, you just wouldn’t be able to leave him.

Finally, he managed to get you inside the room. You had it all memorized, even with your eyes closed you knew exactly where he always was. He was leading you down the hallway, past the kitchen and the living area, to the door at the end of the walkway. Past the bathroom, past the dresser full of sheet music and records.

He laid you out on the bed delicately, pulling away so he could stare at you. You moved to pull your skirt up, but he caught your hands in his. “Not yet.”

He started at your feet. He pulled off your shoes and began kissing your calves, a touch that felt so distant through your tights.

You whined. “Daddy.”

“You’re going to be patient, angel.”

And that was that. You never argued with him, rarely disobeyed. You were perfect, you were good. You were, as he so fondly called you, an angel that did everything she was supposed to do. Not just for him, but for everyone. He knew that about you, knew that you never liked to make trouble for anyone. Even your dad, who had been almost completely absent during your childhood, off chasing his current wife. Even your mother, who was mean, unsupportive, and childish. You were sweet as could be, well-behaved, soft-spoken, bright-eyed, and glowing. He thought you were perfect.

Biting your lip, paying close attention to how much you were moving, you watched in near silence as he continued to press his lips up your legs. As soon as his eyes flickered up to yours, your heart was pounding. There was a lot about Nick that you just didn’t understand.

You could look at yourself in the mirror and understand why people thought you were pretty, but of course, you did not think as highly of yourself as Nick thought of you. Alternatively, he could not do the same. He could not understand why you liked looking at him in the mornings, why you liked to trace his features with your fingers, why you spent so much time just kissing his face whenever you got the chance. You were baffled that he could look like that and not know what he did to people.

He blushed a lot. When you accidentally told him, the first time, that you thought he was beautiful—never again would you drink wine with him—and now, all the deliberate times after that. Because unintentional or not, you meant it and you wanted him to know. When you would take him in your mouth and he had his hands at his sides, leaving you to control everything, and when you took so much of him that you would gag and choke, he was permanently flushed. When he played for you, forget it.

He was at the hemline of your skirt and started pushing it up, kissing at the insides of your thighs. You bit down harder on your lip as he continued up, up, up until he kissed your pussy. Over tights and your panties, it was still good enough that you shuddered. You could feel his beard, some random hairs managing to poke into the open spots of your tights. It was a feeling that reminded you of being home, not with either of your parents now, but when they were still together in your first home. Nick was comfort and security, he was warmth and so much raw emotion.

You brought one hand up to press your fingers to your lips. You were so wet that you could feel the material against you was damp. He always knew how to do that to you, how to get you so wanting. And the neighbors always knew when you were there, they would play music because you were so embarrassingly loud, not that he was ever considerate about that. You just wanted to pretend you had some dignity, at least for a while.

He kissed across your thigh and up the side of your hip, back across until he could kiss down the opposite side. You remembered you used to hate when he would do this, when there wasn’t a part of you that he wouldn’t at least devote a moment of attention to. You didn’t hate it now, you noticed it made you a lot more confident. You didn’t care how tight a skirt was around your hips or that a skirt was so short that everyone could see your thighs touching. It wasn’t even his goal and it wasn’t dependent on his interest in you at all, but you knew he was the cause.

You often wondered if he looked at everyone like this. It really hadn’t been long, but sometimes you swore he might feel the same about you. You’d always wrote it off as your age, but how would someone his age honestly fall in love with you? And if he wasn’t, why the hell did he look at you the way he did?

“How many lives have you ruined?”

His eyebrows rose and he pulled his mouth away from you. “I’m sorry?”

“You look at me like that, you kiss me like that—”

“Like what?”

You rolled your eyes. Honestly, you weren’t sure how to put it into words. The last thing you wanted to do was accuse him of acting or pretending. That was one of the few boundary lines with Nick that was quickly established—he didn’t like analysis of his emotions. They were his own and he didn’t want anyone to presume that they knew them better than him. You truly didn’t mind. You’d come from a toxic environment of men who would sooner die than cry and couldn’t healthily express their anger if the world depended on it. “You know like what.”

“Yes, but I want to hear you say it.” He leaned back down, kissing either knee once. “But I won’t make you, I want you to want to say it.”

First time he’d ever taken that route. He teased you a lot, like challenging your views. And he liked those rare times you could challenge his. You’d both talked and talked until you managed to get to this place where you were both completely comfortable with what you were. He had to compromise on how casual this could seem at times, and you had to compromise on how obscenely intimate it was to you sometimes. And though you both compromised, it was still hard to see the other’s point of view. What was he so scared of with ‘casual’? You, on the other hand, dreaded falling for someone who couldn’t reciprocate.

He reached for your tights and slowly pulled them down. Again, he moved to where he was exposing skin and scattered kisses all over you. He deliberately got as close to your pussy as he could without ever touching you, several times, and enjoyed that you gasped and shivered each time.

He didn’t pull your underwear out of his way before he finally kissed you there. He went on like this, curious to see just how much you could take. You tried not to ask for more, to feed into his ego, and you succeeded for several minutes. You could feel his tongue and his lips, the texture of your panties was slight stimulation, but as time went on, you craved him more.

When you finally broke, your eyes were filled with tears, your hands were shaking as you reached for him, and you couldn’t form a single coherent word. Instead of pulling your panties down and eating your pussy, he moved up your body and removed your sweater and your bra. Again, he was kissing you all over, but you could hardly focus on anything other than your throbbing pussy.

“Daddy, please,” you whimpered.

He moved his mouth up until he could kiss your lips. He settled down on the bed beside you and pulled away, sitting you up a little. You took his cue and shifted up on the bed until you could rest on the headboard.

You watched as his hand reached for you, holding your breath until he was sliding one finger into you. “Fuck, daddy.” Your hips bucked almost immediately, silently begging for more. He added a second finger and you turned to hide your face against his chest.

He curled his fingers slowly, focusing on the sounds you made, the way your body would tense and shudder, and soon enough, he’d found that blissful spot that he knew made you see stars.

You clumsily reached for his pants, taking far too long to get your hands on his thick cock. You felt yourself get so much wetter, remembering just how big he felt inside you. Not that you were experienced when he’d found you, but taking his cock had been so delightfully painful and you kind of liked that he was the first man really stretching you out like that.

“Fuck,” he breathed against the side of your face. “Watch my fingers, angel, watch me fuck you with them.”

You turned down, paying attention to how they moved, and the wet sounds from your pussy. You slowly moved your hand along his cock, wanting—but too shy to ask for—him to cover your body with his cum. He preferred finishing inside you, he liked letting it drip out of you and then filling you back up all over again.

When your breaths turned shorter and your moans became louder, he knew you were so close. He moved his fingers faster, brought his thumb down to your clit. Your whole body was shaking, and he could feel how desperate you were because your hand around him tightened.

“You wanna come, angel?”

“Please, daddy,” you blurted out. “Please, please make me come.”

He pulled your hand off his cock and kissed you when you made a noise of protest. His opposite hand never even faltered as he explained, “Daddy’s coming inside you. Keep begging.”

“Please, I want to come, daddy. I want to come on your fingers, I want you to get me wet enough so my tight, little pussy can take your huge cock.”

“What a filthy mouth, angel. Where’d you learn to talk like that? Been watching the videos I’ve been sending you?”

“Yes, daddy. I watch every single one and I touch myself, thinking about how much I miss you inside me.”

“You have no idea how much I miss having your pussy wrapped around me when you’re gone.”

You finished with a sharp cry, using your free hand to try to push his touch away, but he was so much stronger than you. Add to the fact that you really didn’t want him to stop, if you could stay there in bed with him, feeling that for the rest of your life, you would.

You almost instantly rolled over on top of him, kissing him as you moved up his body until you were straddling him. He set his hands on your hips, holding you steady as you slid down on him. As you adjusted, he let his hands wander to your breasts. You were still shaking, panting, trying to come down from your high but you were addicted to pleasing Nick.

You rolled your hips, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. You needed to see him naked, coming here without seeing all of him would be an absolute waste. He helped you get the shirt off after a moment and your hands roamed all over his torso.

He took your hips again, using his hold on you to pick up the pace just a little. You let your head fall back, he would want to watch your body anyway. You brought your arms back and rested your hands on the mattress around his legs. He had to fuck you just a little harder from this angle to see your breasts move with every thrust, but you were okay with that.

You always knew when he was close because his fingers would dig into your skin and he always did everything he could to get as close to you as he possibly could. This time, he sat up and pulled you up so your chest was flush against his. You continued bouncing up and down on his cock, mewling and whimpering because you knew he loved those sounds.

“Are you close, daddy?”

“Yeah, angel, keep going just like that.”

“Tell me when you’re really close.”

He faltered for just a second, processing your odd request, but did not argue.

You set your hands to his face, dragging him in for a kiss, open-mouthed, tongues, moaning obscenely for one another. As he was distracted, you unwound his arms from your back and held them flat on the mattress by his forearms.

“I’m close,” he informed after turning his head just slightly, breathing heavily on your skin. “I’m so fucking close.”

You started moving quickly, pulling off of him and crawling back down the bed. He was stunned silent until you bent down and took his wet cock, messy from your pussy, in your mouth. You’d only just closed your lips around him when both of his hands settled on the back of your head to hold you down. He only needed to jerk his hips up a few times before he was filling your mouth.

He kept you there until his high had drifted away, and you never once complained. You swallowed the cum that you could, but some of his had slipped out of your mouth, and sucked softly until he let you up.

As soon as you were sitting up, he was wrapping his arms around you and pulling you on top of him. Still trying to catch his breath, it was clear that he wasn’t letting you go for quite some time. Because no one would expect Nick to want to cuddle after sex.

And because his brain was not functioning at its best, he was simultaneously attempting to kick off his pants and pull the sheets over the two of you. But you weren’t there to be unsupportive, you simply laid on his chest and tried not to laugh.

After he’d managed it, which had to have taken about five minutes, he turned off the lamp on the bedside table and stretched over to do the same on the other side. He once again wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head. “Fuck, I love you.”

You weren’t sure how to respond, so all you did was lay there. He didn’t miss a beat, he just started running one of his hands through your hair and then nothing. Not another word.

Fuck.

You only woke up because Nick was moving around so much. As quiet as he tried to be and as softly as he tried to move out from under you, he always failed at it. When he realized he’d woken you up again, he froze.

You grabbed one of the pillows and yanked it over his face as you climbed out of bed. You didn’t want to have to get up because that meant that you would soon have to leave. You grabbed your phone out of your bag on the way to the bathroom, not bothering to get dressed. Nick loved seeing you walk around the room naked, and that was why you always ignored that nervous nagging feeling that told you to cover up.

“Sorry,” he called out.

You didn’t respond.

After you brushed your teeth, you opened the door. You heard him moving around the bedroom as you were performing your simple morning skincare routine. He always did that, just waited until you were done so he could get in. He liked making you watch in the mirror.

And right on cue, Nick entered the bathroom, stopping just inches behind you. You didn’t turn, you merely watched him in the mirror and waited. He wrapped his arms around you, and you noticed the single red rose he was holding. He started at your lips, letting the flower trail down, then over your nipples, and down just above your navel.

You shivered when he pulled it away, offering it to you. With a smile you were looking down to hide, you took the rose from him.

He kissed the side of your face, arms wrapping loosely around your waist He pressed one hand to your stomach, and you were reminded of how much you loved his stupid hands. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“I’m sorry about what I said last night. I know it was…a lot.”

Yeah, it was. You’d built it up in your mind as some terrifying thing that you would never want to hear, especially from him, but when he said it, it just wasn’t like that. When he said it, it made you feel safe. It made you feel loved. “But did you mean it?”

“Only if you’re not going to run away.”

You finally looked up in the mirror, meeting his gaze. “Maybe I won’t.”

He arched an eyebrow.

“And maybe I love you back.”

“Maybe?”

“Maybe,” you confirmed. “And maybe I’m even considering staying.”

He perked up at that, turning you around quickly to face him. “Tell me what I need to do or say and I will.”

You brought the rose up and set it to his lips, smirking again.

He narrowed his eyes.

All you did was shrug. “Not sure yet, but you have all day to convince me.”

“I thought you were leaving today.”

You set the rose down on the counter. “Changed my mind.”

He was beaming as he picked you up and sat you on the counter. “That means you’ve already decided to stay.”

“I never said that.”

“I’m not letting you leave. Ever.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop your smile. “I have to go home, you know…and pack.”

“I’ll go with you.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you smiled. “Probably a good idea to let my mom meet my daddy.”

“Please don’t make those jokes in front of your parents.”

You snorted. “Oh, now you want to be a gentleman?”

“Always am, angel. Open your legs and I’ll prove it.” He spread your thighs wider as he got down to his knees. He pulled you to the edge of the counter and with his eyes on yours, he took your pussy with his mouth.

“Fuck,” you gasped. “But this means you have to stop smoking.”

He pulled back, narrowing his eyes at you. “Now, seriously?”

You buried both hands in his hair and pulled him back in.

chris tags:

@onetwo3000 @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @donutloverxo @kleohoneyao3 @cevans-fics @gotnofucks

#nick vaughan x reader #my writing

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celiastjms · 3 years

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Okay, here it goes. Episode Four of Scenes from a Marriage and it’s been less than 24hrs and I have rewatched the episode what, five times? Some scenes I’ve rewatched more than that :’) and I just??? That fucking show, these fucking characters??? Spoilers ahead, behold! — and this is long, I apologize in advance!!!!

One of the two major takeaways from the episode is that they are BOTH so incredibly awful to and for each other, and that they bring out the FUCKING WORST in each other. The sadest part is that they cannot be with but also not without one another even if it means hurting each other. And — and this is absolutely fucking tragic, the other major takeaway is that they STILL haven’t learned to communicate with each other. It’s been ( roughly ) FOUR FUCKING YEARS!!! ( In the first episode Mira is not yet 40, so she’s still 39 and now she is 43 and a half so give or take four years have passed since the first episode ) And yet all they kept constantly doing throught the episode was to ACCUSE the OTHER of not listening and not being able to communicate. Like they BOTH are aware of the issue but neither attempts to work through it??

Wow, just wow.

Those two are just, I don’t even have the words???

Like, where the fuck do I even start???

Mira already dragged her feet about the divorce in Episode Three, she wasn’t willing and ready then and maybe she hadn’t noticed the why yet but she wasn’t ready for a divorce then and she sure as hell isn’t ready now, even if she struggles to admit that out loud once prompted by Jonathan.

Again, Jonathan’s calculating and cold side jumped out. Like the scene, with them on the couch?? With Mira asking if he would be able to marry her again and then getting all quiet after her “ We’re fucked ”, like Jonathan KNEW that she still wanted him, he knew that when he invited her into his arms and she happily curled against him and he knew that when he started touching her. He was the initiator and he went quite aggressive about it ( which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, pretty sure it came as a welcome surprise to Mira though ), he knew she wanted him and he very much wanted her.

Mira asking him to stay after, to not immediately go, showing herself vulnerable and at the same time content in his arms, man that was a glimpse into their sex-life during their marriage ( that gets expanded later on but more on that in a second ). She knew he’d rush to get up, NOT because he regrets what they did but because he feels the need to clean himself — now I don’t know if this is rooted in his religious upbringing and something he simply cannot shake or if it’s something else but either way it must be a fucking awful feeling to have your partner rush to clean himself after you just had sex. No doubt humiliating too in a way, so no wonder she asked him to stay and I wonder how often she had done that before, you know to have that kind of soft intimacy?

Their marriage was broken in so many ways & aspects. I know we only got to see the tip of the iceberg but holy fuck.

Mira telling him she got fired, or, asked to resign and going back to explain that it was bound to happen after she didn’t take the promotion and Jonathan getting defensive IMMEDIATELY, to the point where she HAS TO tell him she isn’t blaming him and that this isn’t what it is about is such a perfect example of them STILL not having learned to communicate with each other. I have no fucking clue how they got through the settlement conversations if all they do is either hear what they want to hear or only hear half of what the other says and then interprete it in a completely different direction because they didn’t listen to the rest. Like, it has been ( give or take ) FOUR FUCKING YEARS and they still haven’t learned to communicate.

No wonder they never fucking sorted through any issue they had prior to Mira cheating on him and leaving him since they just don’t know how to fucking communicate.

Okay back to Mira telling Jonathan she has lost her job. It fucking sucks. I can see where she is coming from, she gave them their all, she put her marriage on the line, the relationship with her daughter and how did they thank her for it? By asking her to resign when she no longer gave them their all but took time to work on her relationships and spend time with her daughter.

It’s a bit of a tragedy, that she wanted it all and for a split second she had it, only for her to lose it all in the end. Losing her job drives the point home that she has officially lost everything. I mean, sure, Mira escaped from her marriage into her career, because in her career she didn’t feel the need to make herself small in an effort not to emasculate anyone, which is how she felt in her relationship with Jonathan and while losing the life she had with Jonathan was bearable, at first at least, she still had her job, she still had the security of that. The knowledge that she was good at what she did and needed there, but now she has lost that too and is watching her life spinning out of control. ( She’ll probs get a nice settlement and will still be well off but still, it stings ) It takes her a little while to admit but she felt like she was being replaced by someone younger, by someone more fun which is why she takes such offense later when Jonathan mentions that they’re older ( we’ll get to that ).

That no doubt hits hard and Jonathan takes THAT FUCKING MOMENT to tell her, no less than thirty minutes after they had sex, that he no longer feels anything for her? That he no longer cares? ( And later he even expects her to be happy for him? What the fuck man?? ) Like don’t get me wrong I understand where he comes from, because it is no doubt liberating to him to have reached that point — BUT fucking her to try and prove to himself he is okay without her? C’mon that’s a low fucking blow and to rub it in her face when she’s already on the ground isn’t much better.

I mean sure she asked, but what the fuck man?

It’s no fucking wonder that she lashes out. She’s hurt. He hurt her so she tries to hurt him in return. They truly do bring out the worst in each other. Also, I absolutely love that she calls him out, that she asks if he only fucked her to prove to himself he doesn’t love her anymore and the hilarious part is that Jonathan doesn’t even acknowledge it because he knows that she has a point.

She isn’t wrong when she calls him a narcissist and says he doesn’t give a fuck about how, what he says makes her feel. At the same time, I love that Jonathan has reached a point where he can meet Mira as an EQUAL — bc they both are fucking egocentric narcissists but also, because that is what she needs. Someone who is her equal, which I think Poli in many ways is, the fact that they’re fighting and going to couples counseling at least speaks for him being able to call her out on her BS which for the longest time Jonathan wasn’t able to ( but Poli isn’t Jonathan and he isn’t who Mira wants, yes yes we’ll get to that ) which is what I think he aims for when he tells her he has detached himself from her enough to still be able to enjoy her and her company but to no longer be as emotionally dependent as he once was. He just choses the wrong fucking moment??

It’s a given that Mira lashed out and tried to hurt him and she hit a fucking nerve, Jonathan wouldn’t have gone off the way he did, if she didn’t. I mean it fucking stings to be told that she wasn’t sexually fulfilled — as if he wouldn’t know that already since she cheated BUT STILL and that she felt the need to hide a part of herself and instead of acknowledging that and listening to what she says — or to communicate, how he chides her what, five minutes earlier? He goes on and talks right over her, aiming for the same topic but from a completely different angle.

They can’t fucking communicate.

And man, despite everything, Mira STILL can’t bring herself to sign the papers even though he told her pretty much directly that he no longer wants her?? It’s tragic that she realized now, where Jonathan is done, or claims to be at least, that she isn’t.

She NEVER was fully available to Poli, no matter how hard he tried and how much he wanted to have a relationship, a family with her because she was still too hung up on Jonathan, because she couldn’t let him go, because even though she cannot be with him, she cannot be without him. The worst part is that she realized that she rather holds on to Jonathan than to try and build a family with Poli when she went to couples counseling with him. When she did with Poli what Jonathan asked her to do before she grabbed her things and ran.

And all that Jonathan WANTS to hear is that because she got dumped ( and lost her job ) she comes back running to him. Which is not the fucking case, she says that Poli took longer to accept that the relationship was over. If anything, Mira left him and she left him because she rather gives up on a future with Poli than giving on Jonathan. And it’s sad that, she is honest and vulnerable in that moment because she truly opens up and reveals something of herself and all he chooses to hear ( which is understandable considering where they stand BUT STILL ) is that she got dumped and chooses to come running back to him when she has wanted to come back to him this entire time but she’d been too blind to see it or acknowledge it— even though IT WAS OBVIOUS as fuck. I mean she even tells him that she has zero desire for a fresh start, that she wants what she used to have and I don’t think she would want her job back and would want to live in the marriage the way they did before she cheated but she wants back what she and Jonathan once had, because she still loves him and she knows he still loves her.

Jonathan pushing Mira right after they had sex to sign the settlement drives home the point that he is seemingly done. You know, one last fuck, a nice dinner and that’s it. When in truth he pushes her to sign the papers because he tries to convince HIMSELF that it’s for the better. I mean he tells her he is ready to tear the settlement up instead of signing them, but at the same time he knows they need to sign it because at the point they’re at right now, they would no doubt destroy each other would they go back to each other.

What I thought was interesint, was that he signed the papers only after Mira did, which I thought the entire time he had already done and that he was only waiting for her to do the same. Funny, that he pushed her to do something he hadn’t done himself yet, right? Looks like Mira isn’t the only one still hung up on what they once had.

And god, when he tells her he wants another child and that he is thinking about doing it without the attachment of a relationship and Mira asks if he thought that she might want to give him another child?? Like?? Girl why would he? Why would he even consider you? I understand fully why he didn’t but I get too why she asked because SHE IS still very much hung up on Jonathan, she had just made that much clear with telling him she chose him over Poli and the fact that she is ready, in a heartbeat, to give him another child, which is what she had denied Poli just underlines that??

And then she takes offense when he points out that they aren’t young anymore because she takes it as an insult ( considering the day she had I understand that though ) and because the concept of HIM having a child WITHOUT HER whether or not a romantic relationship is involved is one she doesn’t like one fucking bit, which is why she lashes out the way she does.

They bring out the absolute fucking worst in each other and yet they can’t get away from one another. Can’t be without each other.

I’m not saying that they’re prone to violence, but Jonathan had manhandled her before, when he wouldn’t let her pack her own suit case and pushed her away. They truly bring out the worst in each other. Neither Mira’s nor Jonathan’s actions here are excusable. They BOTH are just fucking awful and they reach their breaking point in that moment. And it’s awful and it’s painful, and they still love one another, which is the worst fucking part.

Like when Jonathan leaves, he for a moment looks ready to turn around and go back, to not have things end that way. Even now, even after that, they still cannot let go of each other. They can’t with and they can’t without each other.

Jessica and Oscar delivered again. I have no fucking words. Their skill and talent is unmatched. That last scene broke me and knowing it was them without a stunt coordinator hits even harder because they just fucking went for it?? And delivered this?? My heart is still bleeding.

HONESTLY, there is so much more that I could say but this already got super long hdhfjdkskdhf ( I’m sorry!! ) I’ll probs make another post soon because I got so many thoughts BUT STILL. What the fuck was that episode??? It feels so final?? So, well and truly over that I have absolutely no fucking clue what to expect from the next and actual final episode?? I just know that I need it NOW even though I’m terrified as fuck.

#scenes from a marriage spoiler #scenes from a marriage #sfam #jessica chastain #oscar isaac #ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɪs ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʟᴇғᴛ ᴛᴏ sᴀʏ — sfam meta #ɪ sᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴏᴛ ᴍᴇss ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴀɪsᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀ ᴅɪsᴀsᴛᴇʀ ʟᴇsʙɪᴀɴ — out #I'm sorry this got so fucking long #hence the read more fhgjfjks

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