Prince Bakugou, who was madly in love with a commoner whom lived in the town below his castle.
Prince Bakugou, who'd sneak out from his window just to find you and annoy you by bossing you around and calling you poor because he loves that angry pout you give him everytime he gets on your nerves.
Prince Bakugou, who'd make secret baskets of delicacies just to sneak past the guards and make his way over to your house and hand the basket over to you with shy grumbles that consisted of different variations of, "They tasted like garbage, and since you're a dumb commoner you deserve to eat them." Knowing damn well people would pay thousands of yen to eat something even similar to those delicacies.
Prince Bakugou, who'd fight tooth and nail just to see you again after being caught by the guards. Attempting to bark orders, even going as far to use his quirk on them with dried, frustrated tears running down his face.
Prince Bakugou, who yelled at his parents when they questioned him for being in love with a peasant.
Prince Bakugou, who brought you to his family after they finally accepted his love life, was his, and his only. Only to have his parents love and shower you with adoration and bury you in compliments about your looks and tease things Bakugou does behind his back.
Prince Bakugou, who got you a wedding ring worth 10 million yen at the age of 18.
King Bakugou, who made you his Royal Partner the moment he was coronated.
1K notes
·
View notes
Kinktober day 17
John Gillman/Homelander + cock warming
Hes so cute in this gif, like omg...
Readers a silverfox, aka an older hot man, cuz you can’t tell me Homelander wouldn’t climb older men who gave him positive attention.
Kinktober 2023 masterlist
The noise of typing on a keyboard could be heard throughout your office as you worked, the sleeves of your button-up rolled up to your elbows, your greying hair ruffled from its usually gelled hairstyle. You had been working nonstop for days at this point, only taking breaks for short naps or to refill your coffee cup when Ashley or other assistants weren’t around to do it for you.
You had worked for Vought for a long time, as long as Stan Edgar, though you hadn’t felt the need to be the CEO as you weren’t cruel enough for that role. So, you easily gave it up for Stan and took a lower, but still very high rank in the company. Your role involved many things, but one of them happened to be dealing with Homelander, or John as you called him behind doors, as he had always been drawn to you from day one.
You had met him for the first time when he started as Homelander, as you weren’t too involved with the whole creation of supes, as you liked having plausible deniability. Of course, you knew it happened and how it worked, you weren’t on even foot with Stan Edgar for so long and not know, but really, he seemed to gain more joy from it than you, so you let him keep it.
But back to the present, you leaned back into your seat with a sigh, running a hand over your face and massaging at the ugly wrinkle that always appeared on your face as you worked. A small moan could be heard between your legs as you changed your position, the person between them shuffling forwards to take you fully between his lips once again.
Looking down, your eyes met the sight of your sweet boy, Homelander, his eyelashes resting beautifully against his cheekbones as he held you between his lips. As you ran your hand through his tussled hair, he seemed to sigh and become even more relaxed, his tongue limp against the bottom side of your soft length.
He was so well behaved, always aching for your attention and praise. When Homelander first started out he had been softer and more anxious, but as time passed he had become quite egotistical and bratty, but you were always able to keep him on a tight leash when it was just the two of you, as he seemed to ache so deeply for your attention.
His eyes fluttered open as you brushed your thumb over his cheek, his pupils blown so wide they almost swallowed up the blue in his eyes. He looked almost drunk as he let his head fall to rest against your thigh, his mouth still securely wrapped around you. As if testing his luck, John gave a soft almost hesitant suck as he looked up at you, his glazed expression sharpening enough to see if you had any negative reaction to his behaviour.
Normally you’d have scolded him for acting against your orders, as you had told him to just warm you as you worked, but you were technically taking a break from your reports, and he had behaved so well. “It’s okay baby” you mumbled, caressing the side of his head before you ran it through his hair in an almost affectionate move.
You could visibly see him shudder as you finally allowed him to move, his head slowly bopping up and down as John finally allowed himself to start to suck and swallow around you, rubbing his tongue against the underside of your cock as he pulled his head up, swirling it around the tip, before swallowing it all the way down again.
“Such a good boy” you praise in your tired voice, watching as he seemed to twitch and shiver at your praise and affection, your touch only seeming to fuel him further as he moved his head faster, his hands coming up to grip your thighs to give him more leverage to swallow you down to the root. His throat fluttered around you, and you could see tears well up in his eyes as he gave a soft gag, though it didn’t seem to be slowing him down.
Even as the most powerful member of the Seven, John still found his gag reflex acting up every now and then as he sloppily moved through the motions, tiny huffs and whines leaving him like a pup begging for love and attention.
You felt your head drop back against the seat as you could feel your limit approaching, you weren’t as young as you used to be, and you knew it would be your only orgasm of the night. Years ago, you might have been able to get hard multiple times during one night, but age seemed to do that to a person, not that John seemed to mind at all, in reality he only seemed to become more drawn to you the older you got. When you had started commenting about colouring your hair because of the grey appearing in it, he had almost burst into tears, so you kept it.
John let out a louder sloppier moan as you spilled against the back of his throat and against his hungry tongue, letting him savour the taste for as long as he wanted. After a while you had to softly push his head back though, patting his shoulder to get him up and into your lap, as your back had started complaining about lifting him and carrying him around the past few years.
John let out a satisfied sigh as he cuddled against you, pressing his face into your neck and nuzzling against you like an affectionate cat, almost purring as you rubbed his back and muttered half formed words of praise and affection. You would let him float in your arms for a while you decided as you rolled your chair back towards your desk, at least until your legs lost circulation from his weight on top of you. In the meantime you could start working on tomorrows paperwork.
1K notes
·
View notes
grocery trips with Carmen are so special to me. u don't understand.
When he lived alone he rarely bothered to make dignified trips—this much you knew, because the first time you were over his old apartment you had to ask if he ate anything in his time off. All he had was a sad loaf of bread, some condiments, chips, and a few cans of soda. But now that you’re living together, in a new place with a new fridge and a new kitchen, he takes it very seriously.
He keeps a handwritten list so he doesn’t forget anything, he has a steadfast route he follows every time, and he leads the way while you push the cart and trail behind. Definitely gets caught in his own world looking at produce, but keeps a hand tethered to the end of the cart just to make sure you’re still there. Mumbles to himself about how the fuckers keep hiking up the prices for stuff that’s in season, and if you ask him what he said, he’ll just tell you, “It’s nothin’, baby” and go right back to talking to himself with a furrowed brow.
He’s exceedingly particular about how he arranges the cart, stares at it for a few seconds when he adds a few things just to make sure everything computes. But every time, he looks back at you with a half smile before moving a few steps closer and pressing a kiss to your forehead, or your cheek, or your temple, as his hand rubs affectionately on your shoulder. He can’t get enough of the way you trail behind him, arms leaning against the cart’s handle as you chat about your plans for the week, or the hot goss at work, or anything else that piques your interest. He just wants to listen to what’s on your mind while he ticks off products on his list.
A bittt of a control freak, too. Not in the sense that he won’t let you do anything or pick up a snack you want, just that he has to work it into his route first. Doesn’t like it when you wander off to grab something right away and he honestly gets insecure about it, starts thinking he’s boring you or taking too long or that he’s being too hard on you.
“It took me ten seconds, Carm, it was just in the next aisle.”
“No, no, I know that, I just, um…” He nods his head persistently, hands on his hips and eyes downcast—that classic look he gets when he’s thinking too hard about something. “Y’know, if—you don’t have to come, if you don’t want to…y’know I can—” Stumbling for the way to word the thoughts he can’t fully wrap his head around himself. "If you don't like it—"
“Hey—” You wait for him to meet your eyes, and when he does, you soften. Stepping close to him, you pry one of his hands away and instead tangle it with yours. “C'mon, I love doing this with you, y’know?”
He lets out a careful breath, and his chest relaxes at your tenderness.
“I want to be here, just following you around. I just wanna spend time with you, okay Bear?”
He pauses, has to swallow what you say before he can respond. “Yeah,” he nods, “Okay.”
“Good.”
When you press a kiss to his cheek, he gives one right back to you, keeps it sweet and brief as a soft smile curls at the corners of his mouth, chest warm and calm before getting back to business.
Does not, under any circumstances, let you pay. Won't let you open your purse. Doesn’t want you lifting even a finger to line up items on the conveyor belt. No, not that bag of chips you snagged, either. If you start helping he’ll nudge you away from the cart and take your spot, or just take whatever you’re holding out of your hands while shooting you a look.
“I got it, baby.”
“But I wanna help.”
“Uh-uh, I’m takin’ care of it—”
“I can lift a bag of apples—”
He raises his brows again and cocks his head to the side, making you freeze. “Just lemme do it for us, aight?”
You huff but concede anyway. “Fine.”
Yet another kiss to your temple, and he’s pulling out his wallet to grab his card. “Thank you, baby.”
After that it’s borderline criminal for you to even think about helping. He pushes the cart to the car, loads the bags in the trunk, drives home, carries the groceries up to the apartment, stocks everything where it belongs. Kisses you sporadically along the way, maybe lets himself get distracted when you pull him back for more. Just maybe.
He takes care of it—all of it—for you, because you being with him makes him more content than he’s ever been, and ever thought he could be. He's so in awe of you that nothing feels like quite enough to express it.
2K notes
·
View notes