the sound of an electronic key whirring and finally unlocking stills you for a moment as you assemble things into a small suitcase, and yet the swing of the front door opening doesn't keep you from continuing your packing. after all, your mother is expecting you in a couple hours, give or take, and has your childhood bedroom prepared, and you've already printed out the divorce papers and set them neatly on the coffee table, and you thank the heavens repeatedly that both of you had agreed that children were not in the cards for you any time soon.
the break will be clean.
you don't turn to greet him, not because you are mad but because you aren't mad anymore, not at all, having moved on to a stage of grief that has your head less clouded and more practical.
after all, what were you thinking? love conquers all?
izuku, who you can hear now pulling off his boots at the entryway, lets out a loud, weary sigh that serves more of an announcement that he's home rather than an admission of exhaustion, and still you don't turn.
after all, he hasn't been looking in your direction much recently, has he? rather, your eyes have always been on him since the day you met, hoping to support his needs and his dreams. by now, you've figured he has enough admirers; you need not be one and the same as the masses.
and as painful as it is to reckon with, the fact still remains that once you leave, many will gladly scramble to take your place. perhaps immediately, or perhaps after enough time that his publicists are able to spin your split into something heartwarming, or tragically heroic. after all, who wouldn't want a shot about being number one's number one?
you'd say it's not all it's cracked up to be, but can you truly say you know what that feels like?
you can feel izuku's gaze on your back but he hasn't said a word and neither will you.
you are not angry.
you are definitely not angry.
izuku is perceptive. in fact, it may be his best and worst quality. that feeling that is definitely not anger but something more sinister, that which sits in the air like a miasma, is terribly obvious to him.
he still doesn't say anything, perhaps not wanting to break the delicate tension between the two of you that's festered over months to years, and goes to drop his keys into the bowl set on the coffee table.
moments pass. you finish packing.
and then you can hear the sound of paper tearing to pieces.
the sound is far too loud and shrill. the rip, rip, rip, as though your own heart is tearing apart. one, then two, then four, then eight, and he should stop, but he continues for what feels like far too long.
"no way in hell."
he looks directly at you as though you are an adversary, green eyes neon with surging electricity, teeth clenched as tightly as his fists.
"did you hear me?" he repeats. "no way in hell."
you blink and he remains the same - your husband, furious, bits of shredded paper littering the floor around him.
Hi love! First of I wanna congratulate you on your 600th followers! 🤍 I'm so happy for you and the fact that this blog is getting more and more love and attention it deserve. Keep thriving! 💜 As for the event, I would like to request Hisoka + prompt 4. “If you think I’ve forgotten about what you pulled, you’re sadly mistaken.” and 11. “Come now, you can beg better than that.” thank you! 😘
AAAHH thank you!! You're so sweet!!
Big sorry for the delay here, but I hope this was worth the wait 💛
Warnings: Implied past and future noncon, Dissociation, Beginnings of mindbreak, Implied physical abuse, Aftercare but if you squint. Not edited.
Word Count: 788
The air felt cold around you compared to the water.
Your legs were drawn up to your chest, cheek resting on your knee as water was rhythmically poured over your back.
This wasn’t the first time the two of you had gone through this process, but it never got any easier. The heat of the water was meant to soothe the ache in your muscles and the sting between your legs, but you didn’t really feel it. It was just kind of… there.
“Lay back, darling. ~♡”
You did as you were told, releasing the hold on your legs and leaning back against Hisoka’s chest, keeping your head bowed rather than resting it against his shoulder. The only time you flinched from his touch was when his fingers reached under your chin and tiled your head back so he could have access to your face.
The face-cloth felt uncomfortably hot, and you flinched again when he dragged it across your mascara-stained cheek for a second time.
“Behave, my dear.~♤”
You frowned, a small spark of your earlier defiance coming back in response to his patronizing tone. You weren’t a child, you were more than capable of cleaning yourself up.
Whether it was that same defiance or something else, you used that energy to look up at Hisoka’s face and give him a stare that a part of you hoped conveyed how you felt.
A few strands of his hair hung in his face, the tips of it a slightly darker red from the water clinging to it. His eyes were half lidded - his own eyeliner a little smudged, but nothing that made him look bad.
He smirked, dragging the cloth across your skin while maintaining eye contact. “Still have energy, do we? ~♡”
You held his gaze for a few more seconds before dropping it, trying to pretend he didn’t exist while the air of his chuckle tickled your neck.
“You make it tempting, darling ~♢.” He switched his attention to dragging the cloth from the crook of your neck along your shoulder - pressing a kiss to the softness of your skin.
His smirk widened when you shivered in response.
“Maybe when we’ve finished with our bath... ~♢”
The fact he couldn’t see your face in that moment was a blessing, because the fear that crossed it was more than telling.
He hummed, cloth long forgotten in his hand as he trailed the other along the side of your torso, lips pressed tenderly to your ear. “If you think I’ve forgotten about what you pulled, you’re sadly mistaken. ~♤”
You looked down to the hand that had moved to caress along your right arm, eying the prominent bite mark that stood out on the junction where his thumb met his palm.
While yes, he was one for more… eccentric partners, to say the least - and there were many times he enjoyed the fights and attitude you gave him - there was a new tone of fury that you saw flash through his eyes for the briefest of moments when he placed his thumb in your mouth while he had you on your knees only for you to immediately snap your jaw shut as tight as you could.
He liked the fighters, and even though he had composed himself instantly - using your little stunt as permission of his own to treat you harsher than usual - perhaps even someone like Hisoka wanted things to go smoothly every once in a while.
The irony would’ve made you laugh if the action didn’t aggravate the rib fractures.
The sensation of the cloth running against your skin unexpectedly made you jump, water sloshing around you, and you groaned when your body protested loudly at the sudden movement.
You froze when you heard him moan behind you.
“Don’t get me excited, darling, you know how much I love your noises. ~♢”
Oh, you knew.
He would do anything and everything to elicit any kind of reaction from you - whether it be a scream of pleasure, or a yelp of pain. There were no boundaries when it came to coaxing each and every little noise you had to offer from your lips until you were physically incapable of producing anything else.
But the begging is what he seemed to enjoy the most.
It didn’t matter what it was for, and half the time you didn’t know either, but his response was always the same.
“Come now, you can beg better than that. ~♢”
The memories made your lips quiver, and you felt yourself curling forward again.
“Ah, ah, come back here. ~♤”
He unwrapped your arms from your legs, intertwining your fingers with his and folding them against your chest.
“I’m not done yet. ~♡”
thinking about how fun mind reader darling could be... CW a bit of violent thoughts and some nsfw! <3
just imagine if you had an all access pass to your yanderes thoughts! but also imagine how terrifying it would be to be laying in bed at night and hearing
'they look so beautiful tonight..' 'i wish i was laying next to them...' 'god, i wanna touch them so bad, please let me touch you soon..' 'they wont notice if i take their socks, right..?'
and being completely unable to find out the source. are they inside? are they outside? can they see you? are they thinking about you? are your neighbors okay? but you've had such a long, hard day and your head hurts so much so you just decide to confront the problem tomorrow. its just too much today.
when you go to get coffee or groceries or breakfast the next day, you hear the voice again in the flood of thoughts around you.
'so pretty.. i hope they slept well, they looked stressed yesterday.' 'did someone stress you out darling? ill kill them for you, just tell me who and ill do it' 'they look kind of upset.. god, i wish i could hug them and hold them' 'ah, darlings trash.. do you think anyone will notice if i go take it?' 'you're buying saltines? does your stomach hurt? are you sick? are you making soup?' 'you're out of icecream but you arent getting more... please get more, i love the happy look you get when you eat it. sometimes i wish i was that icecream haha...'
'if that cashier touches your hand again, im going to fucking kill them.'
its terrifying. whos thinking this? where are they? who are they? why are they so obsessed with you?! you cant even have any sort of deniability anymore! you're out of ice cream, you did get saltines, the cashier did accidentally touch your hand! who the fuck is watching you?! how do you find them?! do they know you can hear them??
on the more nsfw side, i think itd be fun to hear your yanderes thoughts when they pleasure themselves or you pleasure them! just a constant stream of need and want thats impossible not to get an ego boost from.
'ah- yes! yes yes please! oh god touch me, touch me, please touch me!' 'kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me!!' 'holy shit thats so hot yes yes youre so perfect please please' 'dont stop please dont stop!' 'hit me please touch me, hurt me, yes yes say my name yes YES fuck oh god im- im gonna-' 'darling, darling, DARLING!! i love you i love you i love you!'
so fun!! and if you tell them about your powers? i just know theyre first reaction is embarrassment until they realize they can tell you everything theyre thinking now. sometimes, the words just wont reach their mouth so now, they can just unload all their love on you in their head! <3
very much inspired by redactedasmr's mind reader asmr youtube videos! highly recommend listening to the 'hot boi summer' one <33
anyone whos been an artist before with artblock knows what its like whenever wizards lose their magic in stories like physically i know it looks like im just sitting here staring angry at a sheet of paper but in the spiritual sense i am pointing a wand that is fizzling and cracking in a very dangerous manner only for it to make a pathetic woopie cushion sound and then go limp
Not people saying “Fandom has always been like this” in that vent post I made. No. It hasn’t always been like this. Fandom has NEVER been like this until recently and if you were in fandom pre-tumblr purge, pre-twitter, pre-netflix boom, pre-tiktok….then you would fucking know it was nothing like this.
We still had the drive to create. We still sold prints and charms and made zines…but it was never like this.
The introduction of streaming, binge shows that drop all at once, tiktok and vine RIP i still love u vine but you were the beginning of a particularly ugly era) creating this bite sized, quick paced ‘content’ era of creation and it bled out into fucking everything else.
Fandoms didn’t die down when the show ended or the season was over. You didn’t mass unfollow artist, writers or moots just because they changed fandoms. There wasn’t this need to please the algorithm in order for your posts to get seen by people and enjoyed.
Fandoms used to last YEARS. Star Trek is literally the oldest running fandom out there and you got people in there that could care less about the new stuff and still have been happily prancing through their fucking fifty year old fandom today. Hell, even SPN after all it’s fuckups and shitshows has a dedicated fanbase STILL creating tons of art and fic.
There is no patience anymore. No calm feeling of taking in fandom and friends at a pace that which doesn’t make you stressed and is still fun.
Do I blame fandom for this? Of course not, but people are complacent with it and start changing their vocab to accommodate and end up making the situation so deep it cant be fixed.
We call Art & Fic Content now, completely stripping the value of what it is to a level of consumerism instead of personal entertainment & community bonding.
steadily recognizing that i’m allowed to exist in public spaces and not feel embarrassed about it… can you believe i used to feel weird about/too inadequate to sit on a bench in a public space. it’s ok. you’re allowed to be. just be. just sit on a bench. it’s ok
The trick to getting to this point is to just think of yourself as an extra in a movie.
I used to be so self conscious about existing in public but I’ve slowly realized that if I just saw some random fat guy in the background of a movie I probably wouldn’t even think about him.
This is why I’ve come to describing myself as just some guy. I’m just some guy! Nobody gets mad at just some guy for reading a nutrition label in the grocery store. He’s just some dude. He’s a part of The Public. The Masses. The Customers. That’s what this place was made for!
THINKING about Kirishima, and how badly he needs to taste you on his tongue after he's had a bad day at work.
How all he can think about is you as he sits behind his desk that's covered in clutter he can't bring himself to clean up, one foot impatiently tapping against the linoleum flooring and his eyes glued to the clock that seems to tick so much fucking slower than it would on any other day.
By the time there's only three minutes left until he's free to leave the cage that is his hero agency, he can already imagine you squirming underneath him; your usually composed bearing becoming undone as it writhes and twists in absolute delight from how intently he's going to bury his face in-between your legs and give you all the love he can possibly muster in that exact moment by licking, sucking and eating the very soul out of your body.
The lewd fantasy he's been weaving for the last five hours inside that primal, purely male part of his brain, forces him to swallow down the groans that are trying to climb up his throat as he rides the metro after he's at long last making his way back home. His broad shoulders may be slumped from exhaustion, but the determined look in his eye is purely opposite from the dreadful weariness he otherwise sports in every other part of his body.
And even though he's deadbeat tired, he's also eager. He's so eager to find you, in fact, that he doesn't even find the time to take his shoes off as he enters your shared apartment and closes the door with a hurried thud.
And goddammit, he can't help it, but his heart fucking sings as soon he finds you inside the bedroom: dressed in nothing but a fluffy towel and smelling like citrus and those fancy creams you like to order online from the shower you've just taken. You're practically glowing, your smile is nothing but a warm beam as you look up from your phone to rest your gaze on him.
He guesses that the device has probably made you too preoccupied to dress into your pyjamas. One glance to the fluffy, baby blue cotton, and he sees that they look untouched from the way they're still placed on the bed right next to you in a neat little pile.
It seems that your phone has made you busy for quite a while, because your hair looks like it's almost dry, and you don't even have your underwear on yet.
Lucky him.
Truth be told, Kirishima feels grateful as he silently thanks the gods looming above his head for TikTok, which has successfully cut your attention span in half, and thus has rid him of any worry that has to do with undressing you.
Because that means that he can get to you even quicker than he thought he would at first. It means that he doesn't have to watch out for your pretty clothes, which you constantly fuss to him about if he tears them apart by accident from how excited he tends to get. And it also means that he can taste you and make you moan his name out in a matter of seconds.
So, it takes Kirishima only six strides to reach you. Six fast-paced, short footsteps, before he falls to his knees right before you with a deep, prolonged sigh of a sinner facing judgement; not caring that he's still dressed in his office wear. Sure, the tie might still feel too tight around his neck, no matter that he's loosened it on his way home, and the strain he feels inside his fancy pants right behind the zipper and around his knees might be practically painful at this point, but he truly can't bring himself to be bothered by it.
All he pays attention to is the little squeak of surprise you let out when his big, scarred hands find the back of your thighs. He pushes forward until you're tipping back and presssing against the mattress, phone flying out of your hand as you support yourself with the help of your elbows to give him a curious look.
"Ei, baby," you speak softly, the corner of your lips tugging upwards in slightly puzzled amusement, "you okay?"
His voice is nearly a growl of a beast as he grits out a tired: "Am now, sweetheart."
And oh, fucking damn, when he spreads your legs apart and he sees that pretty pussy of yours, he does groan for real this time. Because at long last - at long fucking last - it's right there in front of him and it's absolutely perfect. Your cunt is so puffy and cute, smooth and already glimmering with sugary arousal just from the way his warm exhale fans over it.
You get turned on by him so quick, no matter what he does or doesn't do. It's both a blessing and a curse.
"Been waitin' for this all day, baby," he mutters thickly as the tip of his nose runs along your inner-thigh. He can feel you wince underneath him as he does it, your chest heaving underneath the towel that's still clinging onto your tits for dear life.
"Yeah? O-Oh...!" And before you can even voice a proper reply, Kirishima gets to work.
As soon as that first laggard swipe of tongue hits and the way he lets out another deep, guttural groan when your sweet slick coats his taste buds like summer honey would - you know that he's going to relish you.
It makes you grip the bed sheet. Makes you look down at him as a moan you can't control leaves your mouth in some sort of breathless gasp that sounds like music to his ears.
"Ei-..." Your brow furrows at the pleasure to hit you when his tongue darts out to tease your hot entrance. He swears that he can feel it tighten; the tiny hole clenching around his tongue for just a fraction of a second before he moves up to kiss your clit.
You jump a bit when his sharp teeth graze the sensitive bundle of nerves. The whiny cry you voice when he purses his lips and allows for his drool to drip onto your pussy as a form of apology for the ache makes him want to do it again, but he knows better.
So he sucks your clit into his mouth instead, making your back arch on the bed from how intense the sensation is. He's nearly making your eyes cross and your body burn with fire that's beginning to spark within your core every time he tugs. Holy fuck.
"Ei-Eijirou...!" Gods, his name sounds so good when it comes from you like that. But it'll make him cum if you keep saying it. It'll make him cum right in his pants, like he's some obsessed, pitiful loser.
"Shh, baby," he shushes you quietly for that reason alone as he places your legs on top of his shoulders. The way the heels of your feet instantly dig into his shoulder blades to push him even further towards you makes him want to smile as he whispers, "Gonna take care of you, now. Promise."
All you can do is give him a weak nod. Your brain cells are already saying goodbye with every kiss he places on your adorable cunt, and the sleek strings of saliva connecting him to you aren't helping either. They just make you want to bust quicker, harder, stronger.
You didn't even ask for this, and yet it feels like you'll die if he stops. Your husband truly is one of a kind. You consider yourself lucky to have him in your life.
And speaking of luck; Kirishima keeps his promise, even though he's probably taking care of himself more than he is of you with it.
By the time your arousal is dripping down his chin, and he's looking up at you - pupils blown wide inside those lovely ruby eyes that are all glazed over and fogged with carnal desire as he keeps suckling on your clit and fucking you with not one, not two, but three thick and equally as rough fingers - you also know that he's going to fucking ravage you.
Ravage you until there's nothing of you left to ravage, because only when you break apart for the third time and he pieces you back together to get you ready for the fourth like the gentleman he is, will he finally start feeling better. And as soon as that happens, he'll slam you on his cock.
He'll slam you right there on the bedroom floor, because the hand that's not busy fingering the life out of you, is already unbuckling his belt and undoing his zipper. All he'll need to do is grab you and yank you down to make you fall right onto his lap, so that he can fuck the shit out of you and fill you right to the brim with that warm, sticky cum that you enjoy tasting when you've had a bad day yourself.
However, you're starting to think that he won't be as much of a gentleman when that happens; no matter the praise he'll keep whispering into your ear.
do interact: eldest siblings, ppl w mommy issues, playlist makers, fanfic writers, pineapple on pizza truthers, pop punk enjoyers, ppl who see a dark haired wet dog of a man & want his gender, polyglots, ppl who cry 3 times a year, astrology haters, tattoo addicts, humanities majors, tea drinkers, ppl who read 3 books at a time and ppl who love having short hair
no but why does this read like one of those posts where you bold the options that apply to you?
do interact: eldest siblings, ppl w mommy issues, playlist makers, fanfic writers, pineapple on pizza truthers, pop punk enjoyers, ppl who see a dark haired wet dog of a man & want his gender, polyglots, ppl who cry 3 times a year, astrology haters, tattoo addicts, humanities majors, tea drinkers, ppl who read 3 books at a time and ppl who love having short hair
Okay but the problem with writing your own nsfw posts (at least for me) is that I write them too much to my own taste and turn myself on while writing them. Then it takes 17 years to write a post because I just spend the entire time getting off instead of writing
probably obvious, but izuku is a whiner and legg shaker/trembler when receiving sloppy toppy. esp thinkin of virgin! deku getting head from his sweetheart (you) in his all might themed dorm room. he has to throw his head back and shut his eyes or look at the ceiling so he doesn’t make any eye contact with the multitudes of all mights.
his toes curling into the carpet as he stutters and his legs tremble so much you have to clutch his thighs in place so he doesn’t accidentally wiggle his dick out of your heavenly mouth.
he wants so bad to grip your hair, but his hands are so shaky and he’s nervous so he basically ends up running his hands all over your head and through your hair, gripping weakly before trying to get a grip somewhere else, and so on.
plenty of little “ohs” and “mphs” with a cute crinkled nose and desperately bucking and twitching hips. wiggly boy to the max. but he’s your wiggler💖
gummygunk
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