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loveindefinitely · 5 months

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02 — 𝘞𝘏𝘈𝘛 𝘐'𝘔 𝘛𝘏𝘐𝘕𝘒𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘈𝘉𝘖𝘜𝘛

༊*·˚ LUST FOR LIFE — task force 141 x reader

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, legal age-gaps, inexperienced reader, angst, graphic violence, slight power imbalance, enemies to lovers, slow burn, betrayal

series masterlist. read on ao3. fanfic playlist.

// NSFW CONTENT UNDER THE CUT //

"You assaulted two Special Forces Operators, kid," Price says, a barely veiled grimace contorting his features. "That's not a good look."

You tug against where your hands are cuffed to the metal bars, your brows furrowing. "Kidnapping the girl -- whose dad you killed after taking her virginity -- isn't a good look either."

...Alright.

So, if you could go back in time, and never eavesdrop on the four men who have completely ruined your life, you would take up the offer in a heartbeat.

Between landing your fist to Gaz's jaw, and where you are now, your life has become a total shit show.

Like, complete, this might just be a fever dream level of crazy.

It started from the moment you saw blood trickling from your now late father's forehead, and in the glint of the moonlight, seeing Ghost holding the gun.

Then, you'd turned, without another thought, and landed a punch right to Gaz's jaw. The man who had taken your first kiss no more than two hours ago.

You can relive the moment even now, under the harsh neon lights of an interrogation room, as if you're experiencing everything for the first time once more.

༊*·˚

Gaz hisses, wincing as he brings a hand up to the aching pain radiating from the bone that'd taken the brunt of your punch.

"You guys -- what the fuck --" You stammer out, eyes wide and borderline manic as you gape at the man before you. "You guys just killed my dad!"

"Yeah, but," Gaz starts, before backtracking. You figure he has enough braincells to realise that 'rationality and reason' isn't going to work with you, not in this state, and especially not after you just witnessed the murder of your only living family member. "Ah. Well. He wasn't a good guy."

You really, truly, cannot believe the audacity of this man.

Your mouth opens.

Gaz grimaces.

Your mouth closes.

He takes a step closer, hands raised in a placating gesture.

"Take another step near me and I'll punch you again!" You threaten, with an aggressive point of your finger.

You're extremely aware that your punch had done next to nothing, and Gaz's reaction to it was more one of sympathy, but the threat lands nonetheless.

"Alright, alright, we're not gonna hurt you," he raises his hands further, eyes bouncing between your own. You're not sure what he sees -- maybe resentment, or horror, or fear.

Whatever it is, it makes his frown deepen.

He goes to say something else, when your bedroom door opens with a soft click. "Finishin' up, ya read--"

Soap pauses his whisper, ice-blue eyes meeting yours. His grimace isn't unlike the one Gaz is sporting, and it only worsens your mood. If looks could kill, he would be lying on the grass beside --

Oh god. Your dead dad.

"Steamin' Jesus," Soap mutters under his breath, looking up to the roof in some semblance of a last minute prayer.

There's a moment, then, for a decision to be made. It's as if your brain can only come up with two options, and one of them will lead to your untimely death.

So, really, it's not entirely your fault when you pick up the salt lamp sitting on your bedside table and throw it right into the arrogant Scot's face.

"Holy shit," Gaz's eyes are comically wide as Soap cries out, the heavy pink rock slamming into his nose. He stumbles back, and the sound of your lamp hitting cartilage even has you wincing, panicked state or not. "How the fuck have you survived this long with those kinda reflexes, Soap?"

Soap drops into a squat, cradling his nose in his hand as he tilts his head back, squeezing the ridge between two calloused fingers. His voice comes out nasally as he mumbles, "Mighta' broke 'gain."

Your entire body is trembling, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you creep to the window with soft, quiet steps.

Maybe, you think, in the back of your mind, I can make the jump into the garden.

It's not to be, however.

"You're smarter than that," Gaz directs an unamused glare your way, before grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you towards your door.

Digging your heels into the carpet, you attempt to wrestle out of his grip -- but a trained military expert and you are no match, not even with the energy overtaking your body.

"Let go of me!" You grit out, tugging and displaying your weight in the opposite way to his goal. He doesn't even turn around as he drags you out of your room, slamming your door shut behind you.

"What the fuck is goin' on," Ghost's growl comes from the stairs, heavy bootfalls following until he's standing, gaze drifting from you, to Gaz, to Soap, back to you again.

"Fuck, man," Soap whines, squeezing his eyes shut as he keeps his head tilted back, blood running down his lips and chin. You somehow find it in yourself to feel slightly bad. Not enough to apologise, and certainly not enough to stop fighting back.

They were going to kill you. Probably. Or, like, what's the skin trade like in your area? Oh god. Fuck. Shit.

"She saw," Gaz mutters to Ghost, and his eyes narrow, black face paint crinkling where it's been put on the upper half of his face, skin not covered by the balaclava.

There aren't any lights on, and it's the lights on downstairs that cast shadows and highlights over the men's' faces.

"Fuckin' christ," Ghost groans, before turning and walking back downstairs without another word.

You continue to struggle against Gaz's hold, but both of your wrists have been collected in his hand, and he's pulled you so your back is to his chest. If it were any other circumstance, you'd be blushing, most likely turned on from such an embrace.

Right now, however, you're questioning every possible decision you've ever made.

"Ye Dad treated ya like shit 'nyways," Soap says, too loud to be under his breath, but too quiet for it to be conversational. "Dinnae why yer freakin''."

"You're murderers!" You hiss back, lips pulled back into a snarl. Your muscles ache from the punch, the hefty throw, and now from struggling against Gaz. "And I don't exactly have any other family, do I?!"

Gaz makes a sound of agreement, before shaking his head and countering. "We're not murderers, not really."

You choke a laugh, but it's entirely too wet and sad for it to be threatening or cruel. "So you guys didn't just shoot my father?"

"Si pulled th' trigger," Soap pouts, almost like a child would over a lack of candy.

"Soap," Gaz exasperates, and although you can't see his face, you're sure it's dismayed and annoyed. "Seriously?"

"What?!" Soap counters, and when it comes out high-pitched, he squeezes his eyes shut and holds his nose tighter. "Jus' tha truth, dinnae why yer so shitty. Yer not tha one bleedin'."

Speechless.

You are fully, unbelievably, speechless.

What the actual fuck was wrong with these... men? And what was wrong with you for being more than ready to spread your legs for them not too long ago?

You needed therapy. And coffee.

And a time machine, preferably. If one was made available at this given moment.

"Get down here," the final man of the hour shouts up the stairs, and your blood runs cold. There's something about him that's not quite as threatening as Ghost, but somehow makes you even more fearful.

Gaz, with surprisingly careful and gentle movements, guides you down the stairs. The parallel of how Ghost's hand had been at your lower back as he invited you to the lounge room, mere hours ago, isn't lost on you.

His hand doesn't move from the tense grip it has on your wrists. You can't help but feel like it's a completely unnecessary gesture, considering the fact that any of them could take you down within seconds if they really needed to. Hell, they all had actual, military-grade weapons.

"Seriously, Gaz?" Price huffs, looking entirely like a disappointed dad in this moment as he stands, leaning against your kitchen counter, arms folded over his chest, ankles crossed over. "One job, mate."

"You lot weren't exactly quiet," he retorts, but he slowly releases your wrists.

At this point, you know it's a lost cause to try and escape this situation, so you just ball your hands into wrists at your sides. You can't imagine it's an overly threatening position, considering how your entire frame trembles, and your lips wobble.

Your father was dead.

And the men that had made you feel so comfortable, so cared for, are the culprits.

Stupid, stupid girl.

They are dangerous men who do dangerous things.

"Peas," Soap's voice is practically a beg as he stumbles into the kitchen, opening the freezer door with no preamble as he scours it for... peas.

They're in the far right of the bottom shelf.

You don't tell him that.

"Have some water," Price encourages, holding out a glass cup full of chilled water.

Your eyes narrow, standing your ground. "Not accepting drinks from murderers. Dad taught me that, y'know?"

Gaz chokes a laugh, before covering it up with a fist to his mouth and a clearing of his throat. It fools no one, and you allow yourself the tiny bit of pride that fills your chest at the reaction to your taunt.

"Ghost," Price mutters, resigned and almost frustrated as he looks at you.

You understand why, as soon as the feeling of a needle imbedding into your neck has you flinching, pain prickling at the intrusion in your muscle.

"What --" you begin, before your legs fall out beneath you, your eyes falling to half mast as Price hefts you up, beefy arms holding you beneath your armpits as your body becomes dead weight.

"Sorry, kid," are the last words you hear, before black overrides all of your senses as drugged sleep takes you.

༊*·˚

Sometime between then, and now, you've found yourself in a white-walled room, blinding lights turning the throbbing in your head from a low pound to an echoing boom of a drum.

"We didn't plan for... any of it to happen the way it did. This was our only choice." Price shakes his head, hands resting at the top of his vest as he studies you.

Right. The virginity, kidnapping and assault thing.

...Great.

"I must've forgot the part where I resisted arrest," you retort, forcing your eyes to remain open, despite the heaviness to them. It's as if a weight has been hung from your eyelids, and every blink drags them down more and more each time.

"Jesus -- you're not under arrest," Price rubs at his eyes, head dipped down as if he's recollecting his thoughts. You're not sure if he's had any sleep, although your sense of time has been completely thrown out of the window.

"Then release me," you say, voice softer than you'd intended, more pleading -- a truer reflection of your current state of mind.

The air is crisp, cool, like that of a hospital. Chemicals and bleach are a potent undertone to the clean scent, and it makes you question what could've previously been done in this room to warrant them.

Your heart pounds almost weakly, and you know if there's any more heartbreaks to come, it might just give out.

How you've resisted a complete mental breakdown is beyond you, and frankly, you'd give yourself a pat on the back if you could. Although, that act might in itself be a sign of insanity.

"Not until we can be assured you're safe," Price insists. "And not until we can clear your name from the books. We have enemies, sweetheart, and those enemies were also your father's. They are not above punishing you for your father's sins."

Your heart is lodged in your throat, and it takes everything in you not to just burst into tears and pray. Pray that this is all some sick joke, some terrifying nightmare that you haven't woken from yet.

But you know it's a baseless hope. You know that this is real.

You're in a military base, somewhere, surrounded by the country's most dangerous men. The most dangerous men on their side, at least.

"So I'm not getting charged for assault?" Your voice is entirely too small for the situation, not for someone who's still cuffed to a bed, going through grief in the most ruthless type of way.

The worst part is that you don't entirely miss your father. You miss the comfort of having a family member, that's true, but he wasn't a good parental figure, and his treatment of you could be classed as abuse to most people.

And from what these four are saying, he wasn't a good man either.

People didn't often talk about how separate the two things were. It was possible to be a great man, but the worst of fathers, and the opposite could be true, too.

Fate had dealt you a bad hand, in giving you one who was terrible on both sides of the coin.

"Technically," Price leans back into his chair, his voice littered with exhaustion, "We... should report it."

Your stomach drops.

Price's eyes meet yours, and somehow, he must see the turmoil battling inside of your head, because he lets out a deep breath, deflating just a bit.

"No. You're not getting charged for assault, sweetheart."

"Don't call me that," you reply, too quick for your brain to catch up. The endearment is entirely too wrong, smarting on a chafing wound, a reminder of the mistakes you'd made, and the deception these men had pulled on you. "...Please."

You refuse to meet his eyes as he nods, slowly, as if in understanding.

"What did he do?" You don't mean to utter those words, to ask that question, but after you do, you can't find it in yourself to regret it. "What made him worthy of death?"

Price rubs a hand over his face, and for the first time, you register the lines of his face. Lines of a story having been told, proof of a life lived. It makes you want to learn, to find the origins of the small scars you can see, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes.

"He broke many promises. Betrayed his team," Price states, and you can tell the millions of words he leaves out, the context better off left unsaid. "He did terrible things. Killed people who had made no faults."

Oh.

For some reason, it hadn't truly hit you, not before now, the truth behind his death. What hadn't you been told?

How hadn't you been made aware that he was -- he was part of the special forces. He was a dangerous man -- he was one of the men he'd warned you about. How blind had you been? For so long? Those business trips, when he'd come with bruises, brushing them off whenever you gained the courage to make attempts of caring, of forming a relationship with the man who raised you.

They weren't business trips. They were missions -- ones with impossibly high death rates.

And he just.

Hadn't said a word. Just continued to treat you like you were worthless, a nuisance, a pain in his ass. Something worth protecting, if only so your weight in gold wasn't minimised.

What were you to do, if he just. Didn't come home after a mission gone awry? If he died on the field. If you woke up one day without a single living family member left.

You only realise that tears have fallen down your cheeks when Price's thumb brushes them away, your nose scrunching with a sniffle.

Jerking back, as if electrocuted, it takes everything in you to glare at the man whose gentle hands had led you to this position in the first place. "Don't touch me."

He backs away. Doesn't argue.

It hurts your heart in a way you don't want to touch with a ten foot pole. Not right now. Not ever, maybe. Preferably.

You let out a deep, stabilising exhale, before weakly meeting Price's gaze. "Can I sleep? Feeling kinda shit after the drugs," you mumble.

Price's lips twist into a grim line, but he nods curtly. "'Course, kid. Call out if you need 'nything."

You just lay back, turning on your side, facing the white wall as the lights turn off, leaving pitch black in its wake. Your wrist smarts where the handcuff has left a red mark, your free hand rubbing at the small patch of visible skin.

If you were more aware, more... ready for the conversations you needed to have, you would've demanded all four of them speak to you right this moment.

But your head is heavy, and thoughts are few and far between.

Grief and confusion cement in your brain like a thick fog, your emotions like cars without lights in the thick mist.

No directions, no ability to brake before crashing into one another.

You're an absolute mess, and you have no one to blame but you and your sick curiosity, your reckless decision making.

But, you realise, this was a long time coming.

Because there's one thing Price -- nor the other three men -- don't know.

Your father wasn't the only one who held secrets.

And it was you who held the key to this force's undoing.

a/n. lol so like. who's ready for some enemies to lovers? sorry to everyone who wanted immediate hurt/comfort!! for some reason plot lines and depth hit me and i was like. i need to do it justice. so here we are!!!

thank you all SOSOSO much for the reception of the first part. it genuinely means a lot to have people excited about my stories??? like omg youre all SO kind. comments and reblogs make my absolute week!! mwah mwah mwah

taglist comment/msg to be added. @captainjamster @alfa-jor @simp4miguell @yaboibauldano @dreamaboutpinkk @guyser @lovewithasideoflust @redz0mbie @ghost-is-my-bbg @astro-ghoul99 @the-faceless-bride @casterousaudrey @cutiecusp @kit-williams @lilpothoscuttings @florabelll

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bby-deerling · 19 days

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Can you do a HC about living (as their gf) with their bad habbits? With Zoro, Law, Kid and Luffy 😊

this was so fun to write! here you go nonny :)

dealing with their bad habits headcanons

ft. zoro, law, kid, luffy

masterlist || commissions

luffy

he is awful about stealing food from your plate, to the point where it's hard not to snap and yell at him sometimes, even though he looks so darn cute when he makes puppy-dog eyes at you, the crumbs of your meal still stuck to the corners of his mouth. forgiving him is hard sometimes, but sanji is always willing to lock your captain out of the kitchen and make you another plate.

isn't the best listener. you'll be telling him a story, or something important or emotional and he'll either completely space out or get distracted by a bug, or a game usopp and chopper are playing. you'll have to learn to not take things personally—he doesn't mean to be rude, he just doesn't have the attention span for deep conversations sometimes.

luffy is incredibly stubborn. it's his way or the highway sometimes (most times), and he'll either pull the captain card or pout and whine incessantly to get his way. there's no getting around his iron will, and you'll have to learn to compromise with him and let him do whatever it is he's so determined to do (or call over nami to bonk him over the head and knock some sense into him).

zoro

he has the tendency to get really engrossed in his training. as a result, he often loses track of time and can end up missing important events; he's stubborn and unwilling to compromise when it comes to striving to reach his dream, so you'll have to make peace with the fact that becoming the world's greatest swordsman will always be his priority.

zoro drinks. a lot. he never gets drunk, but he can get tipsy at times. when he does he can get boisterous, which is cute, but has the potential to grind gears when it's three in the morning and he's still determined to keep the party going.

doesn't shower as much as he probably should. everyone else around him exaggerates how long he goes without showers, but he still lets himself marinate enough to the point where his scent of musk and steel is a little bit overbearing at times. if you're not a freak like me who is really into that, you'll have to get creative in order to entice him to bathe more often.

kid

god is this man loud. always shouting and never shuts up. when he drinks, it gets even worse, and he's always getting himself into trouble by running his mouth. it's never anything he can't handle with a few punches and a bit of magnetism, but you'll have to get used to the fact that he's brash to a fault.

he tends to prioritize spending time with killer over your relationship at times. he never notices himself until you're fuming mad at him, but if you talk to killer privately, he'll make and effort urge kid to hang out with you instead before things boil over too severely.

in addition to him being prone to just saying anything on his mind, he has no concept of a filter or privacy, especially if he thinks something is funny—anything that happens between you two is subject to being shared with everyone aboard the victoria punk, unless you really beat it into his head that certain things aren't to be blabbed about (and even then, he's forgetful sometimes—another bad habit of his).

law

he is prone to getting moody and emotional, and tends to distance himself from you during these periods. truthfully, he secretly wants you to chase after him and dote on him, but he's too prideful to ask for it, so you'll have to observe him closely to figure out what his real emotional needs are.

sometimes he slips into his "captain voice" when he's talking to you in private and will accidentally order you to do something that he's easily capable of doing himself. he doesn't mean to do it, it's just a reflex that he has to unlearn—though he still slips up at times, which leaves you a tiny bit miffed.

he forgets to put the toilet seat down sometimes, especially when you first start staying in his room. he's so used to having his own bathroom that the thought doesn't even cross his mind until you complain about it. he makes a conscious effort, but every so often you nearly fall into the toilet bowl in the middle of the night and have to swallow your annoyance.

#one piece x reader #one piece headcanons #zoro x reader #law x reader #eustass kid x reader #luffy x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #monkey d luffy x reader #trafalgar law x reader #eustass kidd x reader #law x you #zoro x you #luffy x you #one piece fanfiction

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thecuriousquest · 7 months

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Hole in the Wall

Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs @chickennugnugnug

Warnings: Yandere themes, NSFW, lines blurred between dubcon and noncon, vaginal sex, degradation, spanking, possessive tendencies, slapping at the end, tearing of clothes

Summary: Bakugou finds you stuck in a wall. 🫠

Checkout my Master List here.

—————————————————————————

“Come on. Quit playing around, dumbass. We have a job to do.”

“Bakugou…wait, I really am stuck!”

He grumbles something and wraps his arms around your waist, trying to pull you out. You can’t get out of the hole because of your breasts being in the way.

“Aw, that hurts!”

You hear him huff on the other side. “Well, the fuck do you want me to do? I can’t blast a hole through the wall. The bricks will kill you.”

“Try pushing me out through the other side.”

Bakugou blushes, realizing what you’re asking him. He crouches low, and trying to avoid looking at your ass and what’s between your legs, he turns his head to the side. He pushes against you with his shoulder.

You feel the rough brick scraping your skin, and this hurts even worse than when he was trying to pull you towards him.

“Aw!”

Your sharp cry of pain forces Bakugou to turn towards the sound, a hero reflex. His eyes land exactly where he didn’t want them to. He can’t help looking at how the black latex of your costume molds to your fine ass. The part that’s covering your most modest area completely at eye level with him.

He can’t help his wandering hands.

You feel finger tips graze over your clothed pussy, and you gasp, your thighs stiffening.

“Katsuki, what-“

You feel a hard smack against the crest of your ass. You wriggle your hips as much as you can and push against the brick wall beneath you. “What the fuck is wrong with you?! What are you doing? Just, help me get out of here!”

“It’s funny. I really was just trying to help you out, but now, I just can’t help myself. I mean, look at you. Stupid enough to get stuck in a hole. It’s almost like you want this.”

You feel him tearing the latex of your hero costume off of your body, your butt fully exposed to him now. His hands are rough from the life of fighting crime and very warm with the beginnings of his quirk.

“No, no, wait, you can’t! This isn’t right! Katsuki, we’re in public!”

“Nobody’s gonna fucking find us in this back alley. Hey! Anyone out there?! We need help! Please, anyone?!” His shouts for help are mocking, condescending to your current circumstances. You know he’s teasing you, and it riles you with anger.

You kick you feet, very aware of the toe of your combat boots coming into contact with the brick. Your bare knees taking the brunt of abrasions as they scrape against the surface.

Damnit, why didn’t you ever think of getting a costume that would be harder to rip? You’ve never encountered this problem before, but your outfit is way too convenient for him.

You feel large hands paw at your thighs, prying them apart. He steps in between your kicking legs and nuzzles himself up against your slit. The squirming of your ass against his covered cock makes him harder, the friction causing precome to leak out. He pulls himself free, and you feel the slippery head of his dick right behind you.

A tear slips from your eye as he impales you with his cock, not taking the slightest time to prepare you.

“So fucking tight. Who would’ve thought with the costume you run around in. Fucking tease. Bet you do this kind of shit to all the guys. You really even stuck in there, or are you just doing this for attention?”

His laugh makes you want to die. You wish you could get out of this hole so you can punch him in the throat.

His hands spread your plump ass cheeks even further apart, making the penetration even deeper, making your pained whines turn into sloppy mewls. You want him to stop, so why does it feel so good?

You hang your head in shame. You feel like you shouldn’t be enjoying this, but there’s this little spot in your walls that he keeps rubbing against.

His fingertips press deeper into your ass cheeks, and you’re sure there will be bruises later. He laughs at your pleasured sounds.

“Uh huh, someone’s having fun. Little fucking slut. Some fuckin’ eye candy in that tight ass body suit. No idea how much I’ve always wanted to tear that little number off of you and let you walk home covered in my marks.”

He sets off his quirk against your bruised bottom right where he’s holding your cheeks open. The small explosion causes a nasty, naughty sound to emerge from your lips.

“Oh, God, Bakugou!”

“Yeah? You like that? Fuckin’ pain whore. Look at you begin’ for me. Bet you like having your hair pulled too.”

Another sharp smack cracks down against your backside, this time, paired with an explosion that feels worse than the last one.

Your hands fall limply in front of you. You feel heavy with all of the stimulation. It’s as if rocks are weighing down your body, and you release that pent up feeling between your legs.

It all feels like a rush, like a tidal wave crashing over you from head to toe.

And then Bakugou huffs one loud chuckle at your reaction to his sexual pleasures.

“Came that easy, huh? That’s alright. I’ve got plenty of time to make it happen again.”

Oh, and he does. He fucks into you, hips pumping fast. Each time he ruts into you, he groans with excitement. His wandering hands can’t help but squeeze that fine ass underneath his fingertips. Everything about you is wonderful to him. It’s as if you were made for him.

You come just before he does as he gives one last thrust before bottoming out. He pulls away from you, letting go of your ass as he adjusts his clothes. He watches a mix of his and your come spilling out of your throbbing pussy.

Bakugou decides to snap a quick picture, stuffing his phone back in his pants when he’s done.

“Alright, you really want out? I’ll have to call someone.”

“No! Just, use your quirk! I don’t want anyone to see me like this! I’ll cover my head. I don’t care if the bricks fall.”

“Tch. Fine, but I warned you.”

The brick explodes around you, and you shield your head with your arms. To your amazement, only a small clump of brick hits your shoulder. It doesn’t even really hurt. The majority of the brick being thrown forward instead of crashing down against you.

You stand up and turn to look at the explosion hero. What do you say to someone who just had their way with you while you were stuck in a fucking wall?

Instead of saying anything, you slap him across the face…hard. You feel a sharp burning in your palm, and you really want to shake it out, but you’re too stubborn to show him that you’re in pain from inflicting it.

He grins at you with lascivious intent. He grabs your hair, pinning you against the wall right next to the rubble.

“So, you wanna play? That’s fine. I’ve got all the time in the world for you.”

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7ndipity · 8 months

Text

You Want To Break Up Due To Insecurities

Tae x Plus Size Reader

Summary: You try to break up with Tae because you're worried that you don’t deserve him, but he won't let you go without a fight.

Warnings: angst, mentions of insecurities and self worth issues, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to @sporadicarcadebanana for this request! I’m not entirely happy with how this one turned out tbh, but I didn't want to leave you waiting too long. I’m sorry if it’s not what you wanted.💜

Masterlist

Requests are open

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You did your best to try and ignore your phone ringing for what felt like the twentieth time that hour, knees pulled up to your chest as you tried to focus on the show you were watching as a distraction, but you couldn’t help your eye being drawn to Tae’s name popping up on the screen over and over. The

tears had finally stopped, but the lingering sting was still there, both in your eyes and chest.

You knew it was a shitty move to tell him that you wanted to end things over text, but you were afraid that if you had tried to say everything you were thinking face to face, you would fold immediately, like you always did when it came to him.

It was almost strange how you could both love and hate the hold that he had over you, the way he had managed to climb over all your walls that you’d built up, rather than knocking them down, and reach out to you from the inside and make you feel so safe and undered.

But with those feelings also came deep rooted fears and insecurities. As you spent more time together, you couldn’t help noticing the differences between the two of you, especially physically. Although he never seemed to mind it (frankly it seemed to be quite the opposite, if the way he always seemed to have his hands on you in some way or other was any indication), you could never shake the growing sense of unease that his devotion would only go so far, that eventually he would realize that you weren’t enough and he would leave. So, you’d decided to skip the waiting game and beat him to the punch.

A sudden knock at the door made you jump, startling you out of your thoughts.

“Y/n?” You shut your eyes at the sound of Tae’s voice, as if that would help block him out. “Y/n, please talk to me.”

“Go home, Tae.” You called through the door.

“No! We need to talk about this, I don’t understand what’s happening.” He said, his voice sounded hoarse, as if he’d been crying too. “Please, y/n, just talk to me.”

You let your forehead rest against the door as you took a deep breath. You knew he was right, he deserved a better explanation than this.

“What the hell is this?” He asked as you opened the door, holding his phone out for you to see the text displayed.

“I thought the message made it pretty clear. I think it would be for the best if we broke up.” You said, trying to sound unfazed, but the words had a hollow cadence to your ears.

“But why?” He demanded.

You sighed, looking anywhere but him. “It just won't work, our lives are too different. We’re too different.”

“What do you mean different?” He asked, finally taking a good look at you, noticing the puffiness around your eyes. “Have you been crying?” He reached out for you, immediately concerned. “Baby-”

“Don’t.” You pulled back, trying to ignore how your voice caught in your throat. “You deserve someone better, someone beautiful-”

“You’re beautiful.” He stated, staring at you, completely bewildered.

You scoffed, almost out of reflex.

“You are!” He said, the fire coming back to his eyes. “Is that what this is about? You think you’re not good enough or something? Because let me tell you right now, nothing could be farther from the truth.

“But, I-”

“No! I won’t let you talk badly about yourself. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I will fight every day to show you that.”

Your eyes started to mist over with new tears as he spoke, wanting to believe him, but unableto shake your own fear.

Seeing you starting to crumble, he pulled you against him in a crushing embrace, holding you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

“Let me prove it to you, let me prove myself to you.” Tae said, pleading with his eyes. “If you still want to break up, I’ll hear you out, but don’t let it be because of this. Please.”

“Okay.” You whispered.

He sighed, resting his forehead against yours. “Thank you.”

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mediumgayitalian · 2 months

Text

As soon as they come off the track, things get messy. Both boys are covered in dirt and grime, striped with grease from the broken wheels, bleeding sluggishly from various scraps. Sherman has his non-flailing hand clamped to an oozing wound on the side of his neck, and Will is limping.

“—and I cannot fucking believe you, Solace! All I asked for was effort!”

“Oh, forgive me,” Will says sarcastically, finally close enough to hear. “In the hustle and bustle of being shot at, I made a couple errors.”

“That gonna be your attitude in battle? ‘Oh, sorry, there was a monster chasing me so I lost all focus —’”

“Battles are not usually fought on a chariot going a hundred fucking miles per hour!”

“That’s no excuse! You need to be —”

“What, Sherman, fucking what? What indisputable flaw do I have, oh great one, that needs to be so desperately remedied?”

It’s startling when Will’s composure cracks. When he goes from bitey and sarcastic, eye-rolling from his usual distance, to right in Sherman’s face. It’s eerie to see him at his full height, no slouching, reminding anyone watching that yeah, actually, their laidback medic is six-two, strong, capable, in more ways than what they’re used to.

Sherman, in usual Ares kid fashion, doesn’t even flinch.

“Your reflexes, for starters,” he says coolly. “No matter what you do, Solace, you’re always one second too fucking late.”

A collective gasp ricochets through the gathered campers. The tension rackets up so rapidly that Nico coughs, lungs suddenly constricted. Will rears back so violently Nico is half-convinced Sherman actual punched him.

Sherman, for his part, seems to realise he’s crossed some kind of line. The cold look on his face twists into a scowl, uncomfortable and apologetic at once. “Look, Will, I just mean —”

“You don’t get to say that to me.”

Will’s quiet voice seems to echo through the entirety of the valley, cutting through laboured breathing of charioteers, pegasus neighing, even the crashing of the waves in the distant shore — everything goes silent.

Nico likes to think he knows Will pretty well. He knows what he sounds like when he’s giggly, watching his siblings argue about nothing; when he’s excitable, rambling about his newest obsession; when he can’t choose between amused and stern at whatever dumb thing Nico has gotten himself into. He knows what he sounds like when he’s exhausted, too, overworked and done with everything; when he’s annoyed, when he’s hurt and sad.

But he’s never heard Will sound so dangerous.

“Of all people.” His words are articulated, deliberate. The usual warmth of his eyes is gone. He’s completely still in a way me never is outside of surgery — no shaking in his perpetually trembling hands, no bounce to his curls, none of the constant energy that seems to constantly exude off him. Still, cold. Icy. “You do not get to talk to me about being one second to late.”

Sherman looks stricken. Guilt is written across each of his features, and for a second he steps back — as if afraid.

“Will, I —”

The son of Apollo turns without another word, striding over to the distant tree line and disappearing into the woods. No one chases after him.

No one even moves.

#THIS IS JUST A WIP ITS NOT EVEN CLOSE TO DONE #but i’m proud of it so #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #nico di angelo #will solace #nico di angelo & will solace #nico di angelo/will solace #will solace angst #solangelo #nico/will #will/nico #longpost #my writing #fic

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devourers-of-god · 2 months

Note

Hello again! As I understand it, applications are still open aha... I hope I haven't tormented you (sorry, I'm just wildly delighted with your work, and there are too many ideas in my head)

In general... it seems to me that it is quite difficult for Sally to open up to people, despite the fact that he is a very kind boy. It seems to me that he may be shocked by excessive tactility and emotionality

So, what about an overly active f!reader who likes to hold hands with friends, and hugs at a meeting, and kisses on the cheeks (sorry, this is literally me, and at the same time all my friends are not particularly tactile, aha ...). I was thinking that the reader might like Sal... how do you think he would react? And yes, it can be either fan fiction or headcannons, whatever you want aha. I will read everything with pleasure!!!

HI!! thank you SO much for the compliments, you are the sweetest! You are SO right about Sal D: ANS ALSO you do not torment me !!!! the requests are slow these days and im sooo happy you're taking the time to ask me stuff !I will do a one shot for this lololsorry this took a while to write, I had exams, school and work :P BUTTT I got my drivers licence LOLLL okep thanks for your request!!! and if you ever have more ideas, it will be my pleasure to try and portray your ideas with my writing!

SAL X OVERLY AFFECTIONATE READER

Warnings: None, fluff ? u guys are not dating lololol

Type: Oneshot

Oneshot -

Everyone described you with few words; bubbly, a social butterfly and VERY affectionate. You were not shy to pour your heart out to someone when needed, but you also were the first one to help a friend in need.

You always thought that being this touchy and nice to people was just common manners, until you be friended Sal Fisher.

Sal Fisher was an interesting individual, his everyday life was affected by years of torment explained by his flashbacks. He wasted a lot of his youth because Sal was isolating himself, not talking to anyone, not even his father. Even though his ''beloved'' father wasn't trying to help him to begin with. Though, this caused the young boy to develop an awkwardness to someone's touch and Sally could not properly explain to someone how he felt, he couldn't quite put words on his true feelings. Being touched, brushed or even just the thought of all this, made Sal feel something he couldn't even express. Sal was hollow, basically a shell of a human.

You luckily moved to Nockfell, the infamous town that your family wanted to move in so bad. You and your family landed in the Addison's apartments, there you met the tall Larry Jonhson. It was easy to get along with this guy anyway, you found yourself very lucky that day because the metalhead introduced you to Sal Fisher. You two will eventually end up together, but you don't know that yet.

For you, it was love at first sight. You Immediately complimented the way Sal presented himself. Basically showering him with compliments, especially his mask and hair. It wasn't your fault that you're this friendly, its the usual y/n. Sal Fisher felt almost claustrophobic by your gestures, weirdly appreciated that. You were not aware but this boy is secretly craving compliments, being this lonely for this long had affected the poor boy.

As the weeks passed, you and the blue haired boy hung out often, which made you delighted. You two were eating lunch together while the others had an art project to complete. Mr. Fisher and you were discussing when suddenly Sal made you laugh, your reflexes got the best of you and pushed him gently. Sal smiled to himself as his face turned crimson. ''God you are so funny, you need to stop my cheeks are hurting!!'' You confessed as you chuckled lightly. ''Pretty sure my name is Sal ,y/n'' your crush responded. You punched his shoulder gently, just as a way of saying to shut it. You knew that Sal was not introduced properly to your love language, but luckily you asked his closest friends about all of this. They approved to you that the masked boy isn't disturbed by it. It motivated you to not hide your true self, since your upcoming boyfriend is fond of it.

In an instant, the bell rang. You got up quickly and held Sal's hand to make sure he's following. You didn't want to lose him in the crowded halls right? Or did you just want an excuse to hold his hand? Sal figured this out but never told you.

Arrived to his locker, you were so happy that day and your nature took over suddenly, you peeked a small kiss on the cheek of Sal's prosthetic. '' See ya Sal! Goodluck with your math test-'' You yelled out as you escaped. You were proud of yourself too, you really liked Sal and the only way to show it is with affection and physical touch. You could not believe you actually did that. The next class felt like it was the longest ever, the school system was seperating you from your future lover.

Meanwhile, Sal's train of thoughts was going faster than usual. He froze in place for a good 5 minutes with his face hotter than when he had the flu. He thought to himself that you might like him, but Sal reasoned himself after saying that you probably do that to everyone. He wasn't so special, he thought. Normally, affecting gestures are not welcome for Sal Fisher, but you stood out. He actually felt great in your embrace. Even though he's not quick enough to hug back sometimes, he melts every time.

''Man I know you like her, you don't even let us touch you dude.'' Larry said after Sal reported everything of today. Sal closed his locker door a bit louder than he should've.

''Fuck off Larry. She's just different I guess.'' Sal retorted, what's left of his face turned a tint of pink, ballet pink to be exact. Sal thought to himself that he was pleased that the school day finally ended, they could finally go home and play som- Sal's thoughts were cut off by you hugging Sal as a way of greeting. He felt his legs soften beneath him. Sal's heart skipped various beats. '' Hi Sal!! Oh hi Larry! What are you guys up to after school?'' You smiled wildly as you got closer to Sal, which made him shiver. Larry started to smirk in a more of an evil way ''Oh I'm actually busy tonight but I know that Sal wanted to hang out with you y/n'' Sal bumped into him ''accidentally''.

Your cheeks flushed as you looked away ''I would love to! My parents are picking me up today so- text me okay?'' You ended your sentence with a small wink directed to Sal. You quickly left to go in your guardian's car. Suddenly you didn't feel like walking like everyone else, you were so happy you skipped your way to the car. Sal's jaw was hanging since Larry opened his ''dumb mouth'' as Sal would say.

''Youre welcome my man!'' Larry chuckled.

'' Get lost.''

HELLO!! hope you liked it :) I don't know why, im less satisfied with this.. if there's anything you guys think I should add please feel free to share your thoughts with me!! Per usual, stay safe and MY REQUESTS ARE ALWAYS OPEN!!!! its currently almost 1 am lawd goodnight friends :) P-S: we're almost at 150 followers!!!!!! very exciting :DDDD thank you!!

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babiebom · 2 months

Note

Completely understandable that you don't do full on smuts!!! Maybe just a Seb x autistic reader smut drabble? Or whatever youre comfy with!! I'm not picky ^_^

A/N: it took me a while to figure out what I was comfortable with that was good enough to post so I hope you like what I wrote!! Since I don’t write smut I hope this wasn’t too bad or awkward for you to read. I’m gonna try and get better at it so at some point I can actively write smut without feeling all weird about it. Also again hopefully I wrote this in a way that is like obvious that it’s autism but not in a stereotypical way? It’s kinda how my hyperfixations work? Idkidk

Tw:sexual content, cursing. Let me know if there’s anything else I should tag

Wc:0.5k

Stardew Masterlist

Your mouth held still around his throbbing length as you swallow multiple times. He squirms above you, hands balled up at his sides. “H-how long are you going to do this?” He asks. You suck experimentally a couple times before coming up for air.

“I don’t know…I have to try everything out!” You move your hair back out of your face, taking one of his hands and helping him grip near your scalp. “If this’ll help then go ahead and pull”.

His eyes roll back as you put your mouth back onto him. His grip on your hair tightened and he moans loudly. You suck harshly, trying to take more of him down your throat. When you hit the back, your throat tightens uncomfortably, trying to push out the offending object.

Removing your mouth once more, you huff in annoyance. “The stupid guide said that if I practice I could do it…”

Sebastian breathes in a ragged breath, blinking rapidly. His mouth opens and closes a couple times, sucking in breaths as you continue to stroke him. Your phone is in your hand, the website you’ve been using as a guide pulled up. It was new, this hyperfixation on blowjobs in particular. Only having become your obsession about a week ago, and for that week you had been training yourself to get rid of your gag reflex, but obviously now it’s not working.

Lapping at his dick, you breathe in and take him in as far as you got the last time, breathing in through your nose. He bucks his hips up, hitting the back of your throat in quick jabs. Tears spring in the corner of your eyes. In annoyance you punch at his thighs, trying to get him to keep his body under control.

Rather than calming down, your angry little punches rile him up even more, his moans growing louder by the second. You whine, looking up at him not bothering to take your mouth off of him anymore.

“I can’t help it…” he grunts, now totally taking control to fuck your face. “You’re just doing too good”. You allow him to thrust, his head thrown back as he allows himself to chase the release he had wanted for an hour now.

Thankfully for you, his thrusting allowed you to take almost all of him in your mouth, getting farther than you had when you were focused on that and that only. Sebastian curses loudly as he finishes in your mouth, whining as you swallow around him.

Sitting back, you look up at him proudly not bothering to fix your hair as you wipe at your face. His face is red and sweaty, his eyes closed and his head tilted back as he tries to catch his breath. “I’m…so sorry…” he pants.

You shrug, moving to sit on his bed, knees aching. “Doesn’t matter…we can try again in an hour or two.”

He looks up at you, and chuckles at the unashamed smile on your face. This is going to be a long couple of weeks.

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sanjisblackasswife · 1 year

Text

Little Things OP Men Do To Their S/O (SFW)

Black Fem Reader in Mind

Ft. Luffy, Sanji, Zoro, Ace, Law

CW: Not much(?), It’s a bit suggestive at Sanji’s (surprise surprise) but it’s not descriptive or lewd.

Luffy

Okay this is pretty specific and I said this in one Ace HC but Luffy enjoys punching your butt, lmao. Like your back could be facing him and Luffy would come up behind you and ask you mindless things while punching the cup of your butt. It doesn’t hurt but it’s funny and cute to you.

Speaking of touching Luffy will squish the fatty parts of your body if you’re beside him. He doesn’t take notice when he touches you it’s just a reflex and form of comfort to him to feel you.

You’re the first person he grabs with his stretchy arms when he is about to catapult towards the Sunny/Merry. Just like Nami he wraps his arms around you a few times before grabbing anybody else

He has a lot of inside jokes with you and you alone. You both can have a whole conversation based on nothing but references and those jokes only you both understand.

He holds your hand when walking together. It’s very similar to how a kid drags their parent to show them something and if you can’t keep up he just slings you over his shoulder.

He places his hat on your head alot. When you need shade, when you’re sitting, eating, napping, doesn’t matter he love putting his hat on you

Zoro

He holds your hand, waist, and thighs. Similar to Luffy your touch is a form of comfort.

Zoro looks directly in your eyes when you speak. If you can’t handle eye contact he does it on purpose to make you fluster but if you can handle his intense gaze it encourages him to do it more

He mocks you when you misspeak. It sounds annoying but it’s really funny because he changes his voice to high pitched you end up laughing instead of being mad

He places you on his thigh or lap when you sit together. You don’t remember the last time you actually sat NEXT to Zoro, he just immediately throws you on his lap

You lay on his back when he does push ups. You recommended to do it once as a joke to annoy him but your extra weight helped him. Granted he could be a bit better with how he asks you: “Y/N, I need your extra weight on my back.”

He plays in your hair. This man looks like a damn monkey the way he gets so invested in taking out any knots or kinks you may have in your hair. He even has the nerve to get mad when you move

His voice is …I’m not sure how to describe it but he says your name completely different from how he says anybody else’s. It’s mostly calmer and it will always get your attention.

Sanji

He plays with your fingers. Many times when you both are talking and carrying on he’ll intertwine his fingers with yours or even play with your nails as you both talk. It usually ends with him kissing your knuckles and holding your hand the rest of the conversation

He adjusts your clothes/hair. You do the same with him, but when he does it it’s very quick and simple. For example if the wind could be blowing too harshly and Sanji will immediately hold down your hair with his hands and fluff your curls/smooth your hair back to normal

He stare at your lips when you speak. Your voice is already beautiful to him so when he pay attention to your pretty lips it sometimes makes you flustered, but really he just wants to kiss you.

He almost never says your real name. It’s always “Angel, Sweetheart, Mademoiselle, or Love”. You’re the only woman he speaks that way too.

He lets you light his cigarettes. He tends to lose his lighter or it runs out so you started to carry your own for him. His heart skips a beat seeing your focused eyes light him up.

When you both are sleeping his hands are always in your shirt giving your breast loving squeezes. It was him being a pervert at first but now it’s completely almost innocent.

Ace

Just like his Baby to YOURE always wearing his hat or necklace. You just look hotter with it on

His arm is always drapped over you. If he sees you he will come over and just do it out of habit. You never push him away even though his body sometimes is too damn hot for comfort.

He kisses your forehead many times in a day. Before he leaves, when he comes back, as he is walking by. He just loves doing it

“Baby” & “Babe” is his go to’s when calling out to you. You’re his first love so he gets a little bit of pride being able to see how you look back at him across the ship when he calls out to you

When he is feeling pouty he snuggles you and leans his whole body weight on you. You almost fell the first time but now you’re prepared to carry this 6ft man when he’s in a mood.

Law

You’re always the first person he looks for when he walks in a room. His eyes will always automatically wander until he spots your figure and does a sly smirk. He doesn’t know when it started but he has no complains

He likes spending quiet time with you. He’ll have you in his office/room as he does paper work and study while you do your own thing. He just enjoys your presence.

He stares at you A LOT. He enjoys watching you talk, laugh, do chores, whatever it may be he loves cute things and you are most definitely one of them.

Okay so when he wants to read on his bed he enjoys having you lay on your back against his chest with one of his arms drapped under your breast tracing circles on your skin. Similar to Sanji he uses your breast as a stress ball.

He always makes sure you eat/take vitamins. Yes that is the doctor in him but ever since you both got together it’s been one of his top priorities to keep you healthy and safe.

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rayan12sworld · 4 months

Text

💠💙Light of Stars (and the Destroyer)

By:Sanguis

Summary:

The marriage is supposed to be a punishment, a way to extend Wei Wuxian’s isolation. After all, Wangji has met the man (when they had both been boys, untouched by war); Wei Wuxian could hardly be asked to fit seamlessly into the regimented life of a Lan.

Yu Ziyuan is a formidable, cruel woman, Wangji decides then. She is also wrong if she thinks Wangji will play part in her cruelty.

(And Wei Wuxian, it seems, is so much more than meets the eye).

There is a tale of the Light of Stars and the Destroyer.

Chapter:1/1

Words:22,196

Status:completed

At Wangji’s side, Wei Wuxian has run out of patience. Wangji feels it in the shift of his husband’s stance, and squeezes Wei Wuxian’s hand. If the sect leaders are going to be deliberately obtuse, well then Wei Wuxian has never been one to pull his punches. Wangji should know. “You wanted to speak to the Yiling Laozu,” Wei Wuxian says, “so speak.” It takes them by the throat. Wangji looks at a fixed point ahead, but he still sees the statement ripple through the gathered clans, sees a few of them choke. Sees the smarter ones put one and two together to make three, connecting the young cultivator who had razed the fields of Qishan, laying waste to the Wen army, to the young man who had stood defiant in front of Jin Guangshan in his own palace, to the protector of the Wen remnants, to the thing that had settled in the Yiling Burial Mounds. Yiling Laozu. Yiling Laozu wed to Hanguang-Jun. (Wangji shouldn’t smile but he thinks the one to make it to Qi deviation first is Lan Qiren).

~~~

Ah, hostage?” Wei Wuxian says. “I don’t hold anyone hostage, least of all children. The boys can go wherever they please.” This is met with great disbelief, as if they can’t see with their own two eyes that the children aren’t restrained. A-Yuan is starting to feel upset, if the way he clings to Wei Wuxian is any indication, his bottom lip wobbling in a manner he has definitely learnt from A-Yu. The only thing that keeps him from crying is the gentle whispers from Wei Wuxian telling him he is being very good, and that he’ll only have to be good a little longer. “Jin Xuanyu, come to your father,” Jin Guangshan says, smiling like a reptile. Wangji almost laughs at the mere idea of it, that Jin Guangshan has ever been a father. Jin Zixuan looks uncomfortable enough at the idea, throwing a disparaging look at the man who had sired him, as if to say that Jin Guangshan has never been a father to anyone. “A-Yu,” Wei Wuxian says quietly but clearly, “go to your father.” This, too is met with silence. Wangji feels A-Yu shift against his leg as if having decided not to hide anymore, and his eyes widen when the child tugs at his sleeve. A-Yu says, “Baba, up!” It’s purely on reflex that he lifts A-Yu into his arms, the weight familiar. A-Yu, still shy and nervous, buries his face in Wangji’s neck. It’s where he’s most comfortable, and Wangji can’t help but settle a protective hand against A-Yu’s back. The gathered sect leaders and their disciples watch this whole thing, too stunned to even speak or protest. “Well,” Wei Wuxian says cheerfully. It masks his surprise well, but Wangji had seen a flash of it. “That’s clear then. Let it be known that this is not Jin Xuanyu. It cannot be anyway, since I gave birth to this child and no one’s laid a hand on me except for Hanguang-Jun.” Wangji says nothing, not a word. His ears grow hot, but his expression remains completely smooth. He had done more, much more, than simply lay hands on Wei Wuxian, but that is something no one else is privy to.

~~~🤣🤣🤣

#wangxian #wangxian recommendations #mdzs #mxtx mdzs #wangxian fanfic #ao3 recs #the untamed #mdzs fanfic rec #gusu lan #yiling laozu #hanguang jun #wen yuan #mo dao zu shi fanfiction #mo dao zu shi #arranged marriage #wangxian fic rec #Light of Stars (and the Destroyer)

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bemyawakening · 1 year

Note

Good night, Sunny!

May I please request something where any of the guye from COD:MWII (anyone you prefer) has a small/ normal sized (height related) girlfriend! reader?

COD CHARACTERS X SHORT F!READER HEADCANONS alejandro, ghost, soap, price, gaz, valeria, könig

Hey, Leia! Thank you so much for the request! It's such a great idea that I thought I will write short headcanons for all of the CoD characters! I hope you will enjoy it!

warnings: mentions of NSFW and curse words.

ALEJANDRO VARGAS

Alejandro isn't a very teasing type. His primary mission is always to make sure you are cherished and loved, but sometimes—just sometimes he can't help it and notice how small you are compared to him. You were fully capable of taking care of yourself and he knew that well, but seeing you struggle to pick something from the top shelf made him feel strong. The way he reached over from behind you and gave you the jar you were so seeking to have. He didn't say a word because he knew you would punch him in his gut if he'd comment on your height.

You liked to be the big spoon, but he wasn't allowing it. He knew well that you were far too prideful to admit that you liked to be cocooned in his loving arms. He was very warm and you were always cold, so you greeted his warmth quickly. You tried not to comment on how nice it was to wake up in his hug, his hands wrapped around you and your nose nuzzled in his chest.

Alejandro loved giving you back hugs. He is big on PDA, not afraid to hug you or kiss you anywhere and in front of anyone. He likes to show you off, so you already know that he will be standing behind you, hands caressing your waists. And you instantly become a puddle for him as soon as he held you like that. But you won't admit that.

His nickname for you was pequeña princesa and even if you mumbled that it was stupid and you weren't that short, your heart fluttered no matter what. Because being called a small princess with his alluring tone? Oh, yes, you didn't have any complaints.

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY

If Alejandro isn't the man to tease you about your height, trust me, Simon is. If you can't reach something from the top shelf, he will grab it and put it even further away from your reach, walking away. He'll do anything to remind you how short you are compared to him. Starting from the shelves and looking straight ahead when you're talking with him, annoying you with: "I don't know who's talking with me. I can't see anyone." He pissed you off and he was enjoying every second of it.

Apart from the constant teasing, he adores every inch of you. That man definitely has a size kink and you being that much smaller than him is doing things to him. If you were honest, the way he easily grabbed you as if you weighed nothing and carried you, was making you feel good. You enjoyed the way he would wrap his hand around you and pull you on his lap. He enjoys having you on top of him, holding you close. He values being close more than anything. He isn't good with words, but he is good with gestures and being close to you.

Loves it when you sleep on him. Completely on him. None of that bullshit that you will half lay on him or straddle him. No. Completely lay on that man. There is nothing better for him than to try to sleep with you on his chest, wrapped in his arms. He wasn't much of a sleeper and on the nights when he couldn't sleep, he would gently rub your back and just enjoy the moment.

Enjoys when you unexpectedly jump on his back. You call it a 'payback because of the whole teasing stuff', but he loves how giggly you get. His worst fear would be dropping you on the floor, but lucky for him and for you, he has quick reflexes and catching you has never been a problem.

Calls you a little bird and you love it. Anything that comes out of his mouth with that accent has you listening to every word he says. And you know well that you have the same power over him as well, if not more.

There is nothing more he enjoys when you try to boss him around with your small frame. The way you furrow your eyebrows when you call out his name, trying to be bossy or show that you are not pleased. The way he folds on his knees in front of you, ready to worship every inch of you. And yes, he definitely enjoys it when you try to take the lead in bed, watching the way you try to desperately pleasure yourself using his body. Such a peculiar little thing you were.

JOHN "SOAP" MACTAVISH

That man is cheeky and will tease you endlessly but in a lot nicer way. Any nickname he has for you includes the word small. My small love, my small darling, my small bird, my small baby. He loves being taller than you and he loves when he has to point his chin down to meet your eyes. He isn't insecure about his height, but you being smaller than him is such a turn-on.

When you grab his chin and push him closer to you and kiss him? That man is gone. Melted for you. Will do anything for you. Anything. He's that boyfriend that's very protective over you. Absolutely hates it when someone calls you small in an insulting way. He is ready to get into a fight and only eases down if you will ask him to.

Loves seeing you in his sweatshirts. Only his sweatshirts. You know well that his clothes are your clothes and you definitely start to wear his clothing more than your own. It's comfy and it always smells like him. When he's far away, his clothes always keep you company enough. And when he comes back home and finds you wearing only his clothes? Steamin' Jesus—that man is gone.

The kind of boyfriend that will definitely let you climb on his shoulders during concerts. He wants you to see everything from above and will not get tired from holding you like that. He would softly rub your thighs and just enjoy being so close to your soft thighs—he really has a thing for them.

If you wear a dress or a skirt that has a slit on the side to show your legs? He's gone. If you were going somewhere that evening, you are not going anywhere anymore. He has to have his way with you or he will go crazy. Once, you actually went to a party without having sex with him and Soap was whimpering like a lost puppy whenever he would see you and eventually you two ended up in the bathroom, your legs wrapped around his waist.

He loves being the little spoon and will admit it. Not only does he loves being held, but he appreciates the fact that you can barely hug his muscular frame. He also enjoys sleeping in a hug, tangling your legs into a mess that got him falling out of the bed in the mornings while trying not to wake you up.

JOHN PRICE

That man will always give you an intense stare that will make you feel even smaller under it. He has the tendency to look at you up and down, intensely, as if he has to cherish every single part of you. You always felt so bare underneath his stare, but you loved it. You loved the way he looked at you.

That man will show you off. In bars, in meetings, in parties—anywhere, he will show up with his hands around your waist, walking around as if you were his most prized possession. And you were. You were everything to him.

Now, John doesn't really mention your height. Yes, you are visibly smaller than him and that does things to him, but he is respectful and it doesn't matter. If you are struggling to get something off the top shelf, he will help you instantly.

John absolutely worships you when you are wearing high heels. He does have a secret kink about you wearing them and you knew about it since he has fucked you in them. He's passionate - he gives you compliments every day. He always notices your new hairstyle, new clothes, and new makeup looks. Everything.

Likes to hug you and nuzzle his head into your neck despite your height difference. He wants to be as close as possible to you. Sometimes, he will place his chin on top of your head and stroke your hair, staying like this for a long time. It just amazes him every time how your short frame fits in his just perfectly.

KYLE "GAZ" GARRICK

Our beloved Gaz will tease the shit out of you. He's smug. Cheeky. Confident. He'll make you feel tiny in his presence. There is something about the way your cheeks slightly tint in a soft pink when he looks at you or when he pulls you closer. He loves the way your pupils dilate when you look at him—God, you were such a sight to see.

That man is the definition of 'you-can-wear-anything-i-can-fight' boyfriend. He loves everything you wear. From sundresses to oversized sweaters. You look beautiful to him in the mornings when your hair is a mess and you are a bit puffy. You look beautiful to him when he sneaks his arms around you and hugs you before sleeping.

That kind of man who doesn't hate going shopping with you. Will wait for hours when you are trying different outfits and give you honest reviews, not just one-word comments. He secretly enjoys your little fashion shows a bit too much.

His favourite nickname for you is 'little one'. "Come on, little one, cat got your tongue?" You're blushing. You're mad. He's smug. He's grinning. Of course, you try to stand on your ground and insult him, but he gently leans down to even out his height with yours and grins even wider. You want to punch him. But he kisses you and you swoon.

VALERIA GARZA

Jesus Christ, that woman will make your life a living hell. She won't keep her mouth shut about how adorable you look beside her. That kind of person to put her arm on top of your head and coo at you, why do you look so sour.

Loves it when you sit on her lap. Always murmurs heated Spanish phrases to you, making you feel a little bit too hot. Can't keep her hands off your body—you were so fucking pretty to her and she loved marking you.

Speaking about marking, she would proudly wear any type of marks you left on her body. Especially she loves it when you are wearing lipgloss or red lipstick and you kiss her neck. She will wear it with pride and show it off to all of the fucking virgin idiots she has to deal with. She has a pretty little lady and they have no one.

The type of girlfriend to look at you from across the room with her hands crossed. The type of girlfriend to undress you with only her stare. The type of girlfriend to leave you a whining mess before she even said a word. She loves having her way over you. She loves it when you beg.

Wasn't much of a clothes-sharing partner, but once she saw you in her clothes, her closet was yours. It felt like everything she owned looked better on you and she admired that.

Apart from that - a big forehead kisser. Yes, she may seem bossy and prideful all the time, but before leaving, she will always kiss your forehead for good luck. Then she would stroke your cheek and call you her good little girl. And you were the best fucking girl for her you could be.

KÖNIG

Next to that man - you were tiny. Now, let's get one thing clear - that man has severe social anxiety, but that doesn't mean he is a shy stuttering mess. Yes, crowded spaces are difficult for him to handle and he tries to avoid them, but he is a soldier. He has no difficulty communicating when needed and getting what he wanted.

And he wanted you.

Loves carrying you from place to place. Loves the way you always grumble in his ear to put you down, but he hears none of that. He has a size kink, just like Ghost does, and he doesn't even try to hide it.

Calls you maus. Even if you didn't know German, you knew damn well what it meant and as much as you wanted for it to annoy you, it didn't. You, on the other hand, did everything in your possibility to draw him through the edge. He carried you everywhere he wanted, that's why you made his life a living hell occasionally.

Accidentally brushing over his thighs, his chest or his neck. Accidentally wearing nothing beneath his shirt. Accidentally while cuddling you pressed your ass against his groan. It was fucking payback and you loved it.

That man couldn't keep his hands off you. You were just so pretty and all his - that man has been bullied in the past, and his self-worth is a bit damaged, but with you, he feels like a knight in shining armour. Especially he likes when a drunk dude at a bar tries to flirt with you and he just appears behind you with his height in all glory.

Loves you and isn't afraid to show you or tell you. It's important to him that you feel comfortable and safe around him and if he ever sees that your lips turned into a frown from insecurity, trust me, that by tomorrow - it will be gone.

I had so much fun writing this, sorry if this is trash xx

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leclerc-s · 3 months

Text

track 001. sola

─── ❝ y de todo me olvidaré, hasta de tu nombre me olvidare ❞ ───

series masterlist // next

liked by user 71, user39, user20 and others

f1updates penelope trevino, longtime family friend of the sainz family has appeared in the paddock for the first time since 2016. she is here for the first grand prix of the year.

user92 she looks hot. single penelope is thriving, give us the mclaren boys content girl.

user73 our latina queen coming through with the style. love her outfit

↳ user64 she's not latina if she's from spain.

↳ user73 she was born in the usa to mexican parents and grew up traveling to mexico, spain, and the states. she's a latina, simply because she grew up in spain or the states doesn't change that.

↳ user39 no one is doing it like her, truly

user20 i fucking love her fit. i could never wear something like that because i hate denim dresses, they're so uncomfy but she looks so good in it.

penelopetrevino posted a new story

note to self: don't leave your phone unattended near two toddlers.

landonorris i am not a toddler! penelopetrevino remind me again how old you are? landonorris THAT'S NOT FAIR!

carlossainz55 you just had to post it didn't you? penelopetrevino you just had to look so disgusted didn't you? carlossainz55 i can't help feeling disgusted by the thought of you penelopetrevino eres insoportable (you are unbearable) carlossainz55 i'm glad your boyfriend cheated on you penelopetrevino bastardo, i hope you dnf (bastard)

she slammed her phone face down, frustrated with carlos sainz. he was completely and utterly annoying. she frowned and failed to notice the person sitting beside her, "first one?"

penelope jumped up, her reflexes having her hold her fists up. the person held their hands up, and penelope deflated, noticing it was a girl. she smiled at penelope, holding out a hand for a handshake, "natalia ruiz."

"penelope trevino," she replied, shaking her hand, "and i'm sorry about that but you scared me."

she shrugged, "i would've done the same. i grew up with charles and his brothers, violence was always the answer. is this your first race? i haven't seen you around here before."

penelope shook her head, "i haven't been here since 2016. my schedule got too busy to attend races."

"and you're here with?"

"carlos, with mclaren."

"ah, you must be the annoying thorn in his side."

"the bastard said that about me? i'll have you know i am a saint compared to carlos sainz. he told me he was glad my boyfriend cheated on me."

"ooh," natalia said, "that's tough. i can help you get back at him."

"how?"

"adding you to our group chat, i'm surprised daph hasn't added you yet. she always manages to get everyone's number. it's sort of scary what she can do."

"do it," penelope said, "anything to further annoy carlos."

natalia laughed, handing her phone to her, "put your number in there. i have a feeling we're about to be good friends penelope trevino."

natalia ruiz added one person

max verstappen why does everyone suddenly love adding people? bad enough leclerc and ruiz are here.

charles leclerc i can and will crash into you. natalia ruiz fuck you verstappen max verstappen no thanks, you're not my type. daniel ricciardo yeah, he prefers small blondes named mae jones max verstappen i'm going to murder you

carlos sainz you have got to be shitting me

carlos sainz what have you done?

carlos sainz is nothing sacred anymore?

lewis hamilton i bet it's penelope, the girl he was complaining about earlier.

natalia ruiz you're being dramatic carlos, she's a nice girl. she almost punched me.

penelope trevino YOU SCARED ME! FIGHT OR FLIGHT! I PICKED FIGHT! I ALWAYS PICK FIGHT!

daniel ricciardo i don't get it, why invite her if you were going to complain about her?

carlos sainz i didn't invite her, my dad did. i don't want her anywhere near me.

mae jones didn't know princess diaries 2 was getting a remake.

daphne jones huh, you're right. mae jones of course i am, i always am daphne jones that's debatable

fernando alonso i was under the impression he liked her? it seems like those things children do to get someone's attention.

penelope trevino the better spanish driver is so wrong. he doesn't like me. i also don't like him. we tolerate each other because our families like each other.

carlos sainz tolerate each other is too nice

pierre gasly are you not spanish too?

penelope trevino I'M MEXICAN! YOU FRENCH FRY!

natalia ruiz she's like charles when they call him french

charles leclerc i'm not french, i'm monegasque.

pierre gasly tell that to arthur, he seems to think he's french. charles leclerc arthur's too busy trying to date sergio's niece, his opinion doesn't matter. lance stroll isabella? she said they were besties? or something like that charles leclerc the other one! lance stroll dulce? charles leclerc THAT ONE!

daphne jones carlos why do you even dislike her? she seems like a nice girl

carlos sainz oh, she's got you all fooled penelope trevino i've only ever been mean to you in retaliation pendejo. you cut off my pigtail when we were kids so i shaved your head

daniel ricciardo i find it hard to believe that carlos was ever bald

penelope trevino he was like 7 and i was 5. i am petty.

natalia ruiz heard your song with bad bunny, please marry me. it's like dress level good

pierre gasly translation: it's a horny song esteban ocon forever scared. do not look up the lyrics

natalia ruiz they make it sound worse in english, it's actually not that bad

fernando alonso she lies. penelope trevino it's not that bad mae jones i translated the lyrics, it's pretty bad. i aspire to write a song as horny as that one day.

sebastian vettel somehow i get called dad but all of you tend to 'adopt' the first person you come across

natalia ruiz that's not true! i'm simply helping a friend annoy someone else.

carlos sainz what have i ever done to you natalia?

natalia ruiz nothing but i love chaos and a good enemies to lovers

carlos sainz me and her? never.

penelope trevino the two of us? never in a million years

lewis hamilton screenshotting so when you two inevitable end up together i have proof.

daniel ricciardo I DID THE SAME THING YEARS AGO!

max verstappen why do i vaguely remember that??

liked by nataliaruiz, charles_leclerc, landonorris and others

penelopetrevino two pretty (new) bestfriends take on australia!

view all comments

nataliaruiz we're besties now! even if you almost punched me

↳ penelopetrevino of course, but don't sneak up on me if you don't want to get nearly punched.

user86 this is so iconic of them

user29 the dresses are so iconic of them but who took the picture??

landonorris so no picture credits? wow mom

↳ penelopetrevino so sorry my son 📸 landonorris

↳ landonorris thanks mom!

↳ user55 lando literally imprinted like a baby duck on penelope

user44 not charles liking a post because his bestie was tagged in it

↳ user31 those two are not just besties and we all fucking know it

↳ user91 facts! those two are in love

user64 so no carlos???

lando norris i don't why carlos doesn't like penelope, she's nice??

penelope trevino ugly bitches hate me

carlos sainz says the ugly person herself

lance stroll he may hate her guts but he will never call her a bitch

alex albon we respect women here lance! lance stroll i know that alex!

mae jones love a good enemies to lovers

natalia ruiz same, it's mia and nicholas but irl

max verstappen i still don't get what that means

daniel ricciardo right, forgot you basically had no childhood. we're watching princess diaries 2. EVERYONE TO MY HOTEL ROOM!!

lance stroll CAN I COME TOO??!!! esteban ocon lance, buddy, are you feeling okay??

lance stroll THAT WASN'T ME!! I HAVE A CHILD CHASING ME!!

george russell i can hear him screaming for sergio to "control his child"

george russell i wasn't aware checo had children who could text.

sebastian vettel that's his niece george.

george russell i knew that...

lance stroll DANNY!! CAN I COME?!! I LOVE THE PRINCESS DIARIES!!

daniel ricciardo of course isabella.

lance stroll this is why you're my favorite red bull driver

max verstappen what the fuck?

pierre gasly HE DOESN'T EVEN DRIVE FOR RED BULL ANYMORE

lance stroll added one person

isabella perez i don't care. are any of you dating daphne freaking jones??

daniel ricciardo how the fuck??

penelope trevino DANIEL'S DATING DAPHNE JONES??

isabella perez i saw you guys kissing one time last year... if you really want to keep your relationship a secret maybe try harder

daphne jones I TOLD YOU RICCIARDO!! BUT NO YOU SAID, "WHO COULD POSSIBLY SEE US??"

daniel ricciardo how was a i supposed to know she was around??? she's like a baby duck.

isabella perez i am.

isabella perez i'm like jacob with rotisserie chicken in twilight

max verstappen what the fuck is twilight

isabella perez oh, they weren't joking when they said you had no childhood.

penelope trevino what the fuck did i get myself into??

isabella perez SINGING IN THE SHOWER!! LA-DA-DI LA-DA-DA

penelope trevino oh por dios

taglist: @burningcupcakefire @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @applopie @lorarri @mypage-myfandoms @bb-swift @thewannabewriter @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @cowboylikemets1989 @justtprachisblog @rmeddar123 @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @Mimolovescookies @brekkers-whore @natcha888 @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @prongsvault @kaa212 @anxxiousaries @julesbabey1 @julesbabey @georgeparisole @Smnthnclj @dan3avocado @melissayalene @nothanqks @nikfigueiredo @bella-1 @namgification @jensonsonlybutton @chezmardybum @d3kstar @weekendlusting @ragioniera

strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

¡leclerc-s speaks! i'm not quite sure how i feel about this part but i lowkey think it's cute. so here it is! please do not expect parts this frequently, i'm just trying to get the first part out for every series in the honest series. i'll probably disappear for a week after that, it's a pattern for me.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

#leclerc-s #the honest series #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x female oc #formula 1 #formula 1 fic #fanfic #fanfiction #f1 #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 instagram au #f1 fic

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prettyboykatsuki · 1 year

Text

fuck your inhibition. | k. bakugou

♢ tags ; very big age gaps (19 years), questionable ethics, ex deliquent / runaway reader (22), fighting / violence, brief mentions of living on the streets, retired pro-hero bakugou (41), emotionally charged sex, afab + masc!reader, top!reader, bottom bakugou, reader is really rough around the edges, backstory for reader, arguing, oral (both receiving),rimming (m!recieving), strap-ons (not a dom thing. no particular power dynamics), prone-bone, dirty talk, size difference (reader is smaller but no specifics), happy endings sort of.

no explicitly gendered terms for reader. usage of words like clit / cunt for readers body parts. reader is implied bisexual.

(also while this fic is certainly intended to be read as masc., it can just as easily be read as completely gn.)

♢ wc ; 10.2k (two days. this is so alarming)

♢ a/n ; happy birthday to my favorite guy. sorry in advance. this fic is so disgustingly self-indulgent. str8 self-inserty ngl. i simply dont want to look at it djskfgdf. this fic is pretty tame tho age gap aside. been a while since ive written for him. title is from "lemme know" by vince staples

♢ synopsis ; who knew that the boudoir pictures you've been getting off too your whole life would look so much better in person?

You’re not convinced there’s any way to get used to getting your lights knocked out.

At this point, your fighting prowess is good enough that you can dodge swings from even heavy handed opponents. Just agile enough to bob and weave. Your reflexes are good too, from years of getting into with cops or otherwise. So getting absolutely dusted in a single, swift motion is not a frequent occurrence.

That’s why you are sorely caught off guard when it happens to you in the back of an alleyway, tucked into a corner of Osaka—a long ways from home.

You were fucked from the minute you stepped foot off the train; you knew that instinctively. You haven’t been back in years and it’s not like you’re here for leisure. And sure, you took the job knowing there was some possibility you’d run into some old foes but shit. They couldn’t’ve waited till the week was over?

3 days in and your life as a runaway comes back to bite you in the ass. Worse, they catch in front of the very storefront you were working up the nerve to visit at the end of the week. If that old man catches you 1. making a ruckus in front of his cherished bakery and 2. fighting like those “worthless punks” that he openly detests, he’s definitely gonna be on your ass.

It’s amidst conflict, you decide to take the beating and wait it out. Hopefully, whatever higher power is looking over you will let you get out without busting your lip.

But fuck, this last hit is leaving you worse for wear. You blink your eyes open and you’re still surrounded by him and his bunch of goons. What was this dudes name again…? Aka…Aka-something, you think. Without warning, you get another punch, a clean left-hook - this time to your side. You cough at the sensation.

Ah, life is so unfair to you.

He grabs you by the front of your collar, dragging you upwards until you’re nose to nose. This fuckers breath is hot. Something warm slips down your nose, a rivulet of blood over your lips. You grunt.

“I should’ve beat the shit out of you the first time.”

You blink slowly as you regain your vision and sense. Despite many transgressions and altercations, your time in Osaka as a fugitive is notable. This bunch of fiends are a somewhat half-assed motorbike gang. It’s an old story. You stole and ruined not one, not two, but four of their bikes total. In your defense you were a young kid scrounging for change - hotwiring and deconstructing for parts was always pretty profitable. And stealing flashy bikes was a hell of a lot easier than scratching up your knees in the scrap yard.

Ah, there was that other thing too. Why you’re pretty sure this guy has held such a grudge against you for god knows how long. Irritable with a bad sense of self-preservation, you give up on behaving well.

“Yeah? No need to sulk now, right?” You grin, hands practically itching to throw him onto the ground. A familiar sense of adrenaline burns in your stomach. You should just hit him, but you don’t - instead opting to aim where you know it’s gonna piss him off most “How’s your little sister by the way?”

Red flashes in his eyes, nose puffed like a bull. Despite your self-satisfaction, you close your eyes and pray to god he doesn’t actually kill you. There’s still some ass you have to tap before you die and it’d be a real shame to die only inches away. You cover your face when his fist winds up. Riling him up was probably a bad move.

Before you get your lights punched out forreal, an angel comes to rescue you.

“Oi, you fuckin’ punks—go take this shit somewhere else or I’m gonna singe every last goddamn hair on your head.”

You smile, almost drunk on the adrenaline. An angel, indeed. A cursing, blonde, abrasive angel.

“Oh, shit—we gotta get outta here. That dude Dynamight doesn’t fuck around”

Before you know it, said group of miscreants disperses like a swarm of flies. You find yourself stumbling back against a bunch of crates, back hitting them and sliding down, snagging in your work clothes. The leader says something about “not being finished with you yet,” but you don’t catch it with how your ears are ringing in your skull.

You rub your eyes and groan, seeing double. When you open them again, your favorite blonde old man is standing in front of you. Arms crossed over his chest, sporting that signature glare you’re so fond of.

Your head is throbbing. Fuck it hurts.

You only manage one sentence before promptly blacking out.

“Did I die and go to heaven?”

—

You wake up in a familiar bed.

A bed you spent a lot of time resting in when you were out at on the streets here, something like four years ago now. The memories of the time aren’t entirely pleasant - being a homeless runaway was pretty shit. But meeting your life long hero (and getting your rocks off in his bed) are quite fond regardless. You’re surrounded by nice, white linen sheets that you’re pretty sure cost more than you make in a month. He’s not really much of a flashy character despite his career, but he does have an eye for the finer things.

You haven’t been back here in a while. Since moving to a different prefecture, you haven’t had any good reason to come see him. This week was a good excuse for just that. Didn’t exactly plan on it happening like this, but you can’t really win 'em all. You’d consider being back here a win on your part regardless.

The fact that you’re here instead of molding in the pouring rain means that he dragged you up there by himself. A fact you try not to put too much stock into, because he’s still a pro even if he’s retired. What makes it hard not to feel giddy about it is the fact you’re all cleaned up. Bandaged wounds and all, he even took off your shoes. Jeez, he’s gonna kill you one of these days acting so cute.

You turn to lay on your back, reaching your hand to the ceiling and making a fist. Your knuckles are still pretty bruised up but it’s clear he took some time to check over them. You drop your hand down, squeezing a fist over your chest and sighing. You roll over again.

“Still giving me so many mixed signals.” You say, half in jest, trying not to be too affected by it “Ah, fuck, this is bad. Gonna end up doing something weird just like old times.”

Before you commit another act of degeneracy in the bed of your long time crush and childhood hero, you sit up with your legs over the edge. He took your pants off too, a pair of boxers hung low on your hips. Your back is fucking killing you.

You stand to your feet, scratching the back of your neck as you turn to examine yourself in the mirror. You pull your tank up over your side, a bruise the size of a melon developing on you. It goes from just under your chest all the way down to above your waist. You press your finger to it and wince at the sensation of pain, dull but throbbing so deep in your nerves you can’t help but feel it.

You examine the rest of you, turning to either side. Work tomorrow is gonna fucking blow, but considering you don’t have any broken ribs - you think it’s not the worst it could be. No stitches either, so a win overall. If the rest of the week passed by silently that’d be perfect.

You look around the room for your things. They’re in a neat chair in the corner of the room. Bakugou’s cat is over there too, asleep on your uniform. You can hear something faint from downstairs, the sound of a T.V. playing. You should drop down there since you’re awake but you’re reluctant. You wonder if he’ll chase you out since you’re up. If he still has as much of a soft spot for you as he used to, it couldn’t hurt to test your luck.

You open up the bedroom door and shut it quietly before padding down stairs.

You end up finding him where you’d expect him. He’s in the kitchen with an apron on, a fitted gray shirt with a piping bag in hand.

He looks older every time you see him. His hair isn’t all gray yet but the platinum is starting to turn brilliant white. There’s lines in his face that weren’t always there, even with the scars and fine wrinkles in the corners of his eyes. He’s still as jacked as he used to be, but it’s softened up. Mostly it’s his personality, you find, to be mellow. Only someone with patience could take up such a tedious hobby after an entire life out in the field - killing baddies and chasing thugs and whatever other shit hero’s do.

It’s kind of ridiculous that he’s piping delicate little designs onto some pastries, but unfortunately for you it only adds to his charm. You lean against the wall coming into the kitchen, in the frame. Half-dressed with your lips quirked up in a coy smile.

“Whatcha makin’ old man?”

“Don’t break my concentration you noisy brat,” He says straightforwardly “Sit down and shut up.”

“So cranky,” You muse, but ultimately comply, sitting at a chair on the kitchen island. Looks like he’s on his last round of whatever he’s making.

You get by on staring at him. It’s pretty typical for you even now. Sitting here in front of him doesn’t feel as awkward as you expected, which is worth something. When he’s finally finished, he puts the piping bag on the counter and wipes his forehead with the back of his arm.

“Permission to speak, sarge?” You ask, sarcastically. He frowns at you.

“Not granted.”

“Cold as ever huh,” You say, leaning your elbow on the counter - palm on your cheek “Thought distance was supposed to make the heart grow fonder?”

“That only counts if there’s fondness in the first place.” He says with ease. This time you scoff at him, but he cuts you off before you get a chance to reply “You wake up with any pain?”

“Worry about yourself, you old bastard,” You say impudently. You see the corners of his lips twitch as he stares at you “‘m fine. Got a nasty bruise on my side but my ribs aren’t broken. Work tomorrow is gonna suck.”

“That why you’re back here?”

“For about a week, yeah.”

“Confidential?”

You shake your head and lean back.

“Nah. Bodyguarding some rich dude’s kid. Birthday tomorrow. Spent the first two days being a lousy maid but the pay is good so I can’t complain.”

“Shit. The party is tomorrow? I have an order for tomorrow.”

“Guess you’re not senile yet, old man.”

“Fuck off,” Bakugou says, not bothering to hide to his expression “How old’s the kid?

“A little younger than me I’d guess. 19 or so.”

“Isn’t this a good opportunity to get laid?” He suggests like he’s purposefully trying to irritate you. He already knows how you feel. Why he insists on pretending is beyond you but it never fucking fails to piss you off.

You shoot him a glare.

“Nevermind. You’re definitely senile. Might wanna try some puzzle games to keep your shit in tact before you start peeing in public and buying ten pairs of the same pants.”

“You’re still just as mouthy as I remember.”

“Learned from the best.”

A comfortable silence settles as a weird feeling overtakes you. Fuck, you’re still pining your youth away after all this time. Maybe getting laid would fix some of your issues, but no one is gonna hold a candle to having the real thing. You rub your temple in preemptive apprehension. Bakugou starts working on cleaning up the kitchen, and you resign yourself to thinking about what you’re gonna do.

It catches you off-guard when he talks to you first.

“Earlier,” He says, opening up the fridge to rearrange it “Why weren’t you fighting back?”

You don’t know whether you want to laugh or cry hearing him ask. You don’t feel like softening the blow with your usual shit, so you give it to him straight.

“It doesn’t suit a tactical genius to play dumb, old man.”

He stiffens, then sighs.

“Still hung up on that, huh.”

Oh now you’re gonna get pissed.

“Don’t.” You warn, low and indifferent. He sighs, sliding a tray into the fridge and “Don’t piss me off, alright?”

“Hey. You shitty punk. When are you gonna get it through your thick skull I’m doing this for your fucking sake? Stop—”

“Next time, just leave me in the rain.” You seethe, venom in your voice, making you numb and agitated. He stops, breath hitching “I don’t give a shit if you’re a retired hero. I’m serious. Leave me out in the alley next time if you’re gonna pull the mentor act again..”

Man this sucks.

Not like you were expecting some heart warming love story out of a guy like him but still. You didn’t think he wouldn’t budge at all. You can feel yourself getting angry just thinking about it. It might’ve been better not to come. Mentor or not, his whole dismissal never fails to annoy you to your core. You knew that before the week started he might be like this. Maybe if shit went your way - you could’ve had a regular reunion. But now, he just had to see you getting beat up on purpose and he just had to fucking ask about it.

Seriously, where’s his decorum? Prick.

“Kid.”

“Don’t—I needa get outta here. I shouldn’tve—fuck, this blows.”

You stand to your feet before you have a chance to look back. You feel kind of pathetic running away again but it’s still the preferable option to having this fight a second time. It’s something you’re just too sensitive about to deal with head on. Getting rejected twice by the guy you’ve been in love with since you were nineteen is bound to fuck you up abs you don’t have it in you not to drink yourself into a fit.

So you’re practically running up the stairs, but you can hear him calling behind you. You go into the bedroom to get your things and Bakugou follows you into it predictably, shutting the door. You turn around to him, annoyed.

“Get outta my way.”

“No. Not while you’re all pissy. Gonna get yourself hit by a car.”

“What’d I just say about cooling it with the mentor act, man?”

“It’s not a fuckin’—it’s not an act.” He says, with a sigh that almost makes you feel bad, “I haven’t seen you in two years.”

“Two years is nothing. Old age is making you soft,” You scoff, arms crossed over your chest “But I don’t need your sympathy. My feelings haven’t changed.”

“Kid.”

“I’m not a kid anymore, alright? Cleaned my act up, got a job and a license and a place. Haven’t slept in a cell in two years. Been off the streets that whole time just like you told me to do. The least you could do is take me seriously.”

“I didn’t want you to do that shit for me. I wanted you to do it for you.”

“Too bad,” You reply back almost immediately, pinching the bridge of your nose “Save your lecture for the next injured bird you raise up and leave me out of it.”

“I’m trying to put you on the right path, you ungrateful little jackass. Don’t act like—“

“Spare me the goddamn lecture.”

There’s a quiet silence befalls the both of you. Shit is going nowhere fast and you both know it, Bakugou as much as you do. Memories of your last argument come back to you almost instantly.

After you turned eighteen, you were run out of the orphanage you’d spent part of your adolescence at. It’s a pretty regular sob story and you’re quite the sad sap. A dead mom in Mustafu and an absent father. You had a strong quirk, and hell maybe if you grew up different - you could’ve been a hero.

Shit didn’t work out that way, so at 11 you were thrown to the wolves. It’s not a fun time to look back on and you figure there’s no use thinking about the past. You did whatever you had to to survive which mostly meant being in and out of orphanages and running away whenever the next worthless schmuck tried to take advantage of you. You always got away by the skin of your teeth, and made money doing whatever you could. If it put food on the table, you’d have probably done it at least once.

It’s something of a cliche, but Dynamight was your idol. You liked that he wasn’t like other heroes. He was crass and hardcore and liked to talk shit. He was cool. You spent a lot of time hanging around T.V. stores watching him through the glass, watching interviews on your first hand-me-down phone. Even though he didn’t really have the tragic backstory, you always thought he was courageous and honest.

A celebrity crush and idol combined, you stole more of his pin-up magazines than you’re entirely comfortable with. A lot of them you still own, shoved into the back of your closet.

Once you’d turned 18, your life of petty crime had brought you all the way down to Osaka. It was also the worst year of your life. Social agencies seem to get off on tossing kids into the streets as soon as they can and with a criminal record like yours, there wasn’t a whole lot you could do.

You spent the first 6 months knee deep in all sorts of shit. That’s when you ran into that biker gang for the first time. You hung around bars and slept with strangers for a place to sleep. A lot of bad shit happened and it wasn’t getting any easier.

It was a cold, rainy day when you met Dynamight for the first time. The worst day of your life, more accurately. You got mugged and lost your job all in the same few hours and you were pretty sure god himself was spitting at your face.

But it wasn’t all bad. Cheesy as it sounds, meeting your hero was worth the trouble.

He was different off camera. That was the first thing you thought when you talked to him. He had a softer way of speaking and he was weirdly perceptive. He didn’t talk much, either - at least not at first. You spent a lot of time in comfortable silence. The first time, you didn’t do much more than share a meal. He asked you about your life. He gave you money for a hotel too. The only thing you could think to do was ask when you could see him again.

He was 36 at the time. Hadn’t retired yet, either.

That was the beginning of your long relationship. To this day, you don’t know why he decided to involve himself with you. It’s a mystery you’ve yet to get answers for and maybe you never will. Sure he was a hero, but you’re sure he’s seen a lot worse. Why take pity on you in particular? Whenever you ask him about it, he usually just scoffs. Sometimes he’ll tell you that you reminded him of someone. Who that person could be is lost on you even now.

It was a gradual relationship. You were young and persistent, but he never turned you away either. Sure he’d been a good influence, but stopping a life of crime wasn’t easy. You got arrested for some months after meeting. Bakugou took you in when you were 19 and homeless - let you stay with him. He retired at 37, opening up a bakery in Osaka. The place you’re staying in now is just over it. The same one you spent two years of your life falling in love with the old bastard.

It was hard not too. You’d admired him for a long time, and he managed to supercede your low expectations. It wasn’t the first time you fell in love but it was definitely the strongest sensation. You tried to ignore it for a while but that didn’t work out for shit either.

You confessed to him on your 20th birthday. Made a whole big deal with flowers and candles and shit. And again - it’s not like you were expecting romance out of the motherfucker. A flat-out rejection would’ve sufficed.

But…that wasn’t what you got either.

The whole reason for your fight wasn’t just because he didn’t have feelings for you. He made it a whole big fucking deal trying to tell you about your feelings. That you needed to get your shit together and grow up and that it was a phase that you’d grow out of. That he “really cares about you, kid” and that he’s just trying to do what was right by you as an adult.

(“You’ve got no idea what the fuck I’m like either. Been through some tough shit and you latched onto me, alright? So don’t go wastin’ your time.”)

You don’t really give a fuck about how old he is or about his status. None of it matters to you in the slightest. What was pissing you off all that time was him not taking you seriously after everything you’d been through together. Trying to tell you would fucking grow out of it and that it was a waste. You got into an argument after that, and like you’ve been doing your whole life - you ran away. Back to Shizuoka where you started to get your life together.

Hit the books and studied your ass off, graduating late from a night school and then picking up a vocational school to fall back on. Some old connections got you a job in security and you bounced from place to place in the meanwhile. You even got your license and bought a beat-up cruiser that you fix-up when you have the chance.

You grew up so to speak. You came back here trying to prove that. Being dismissed so fucking quickly makes you feel rage beyond reason so you’re trying to step back. Seriously, two fucking years and nothing. Not even a pity “I’m proud of you.”

“Just admit it,” You sneer, inching closer to him “It’s not about any of that shit, is it?”

He widens his eyes as you stalk towards him.

“The fuck are you—“

“Don’t play stupid. You feel guilty, right? Feel all wound up cause you know it’s not nothing. This isn’t nothing”

This time he goes silent. Fucking bullseye.

“You thought I forgot? How you kissed me all tipsy? Thought I didn’t notice you looking?”

Oh it feels good to let it all out. He shrinks, this time unable to say anything. You both know it’s true.

“Look—“ He puts hands on your shoulders as you back him into the wall “You’re too fucking young for all this. And about me, you don’t know—”

You lean into him, face inches apart. You already know what he’s gonna tell you, almost word for word. Trying to maintain some innocence you hardly have anything left of.

“You sure? I heard you through those walls plenty of times. You take dick like a champ.”

“Shut the hell up. This is for your own good, we can’t do this.”

You can hardly believe he’s still being like this.

“I used to know you were home. When I brought people over,” You whisper low against his skin. His eyes widen “You heard me too, I’m sure. So, be honest Mr. Dynamight, you think I can’t give you what you want or are you too afraid to find out?”

“You’re such a fucking punk.” He grits out. Still not denying your words.

“That’s right,” You muse, words heated and heavy “I’m a worthless street punk trying to fuck the old man upstairs ‘cause I don’t know any better.”

It’s not the first time you’ve kissed Bakugou in your life. The first time was when you came over to his place tipsy. In front of all the other pro-heros you had admired so much. It’s different this time. Not only are you both shockingly sober, there’s an aggression in it that wouldn’t be there before. No matter how begrudging he acts, he’s still kissing you back just as hard as you’d expect him too. His lips are softer than you thought they’d be, arms wrapped around your neck. Fuck he’s still so huge. How much does he work out to still be this jacked?

You can’t even imagine how that’s gonna look when you finally get to fuck him. Shit, just thinking about it sends electricity through your spine. You groan a little into his mouth, your hands tucked on his nape and tugging at the fine hairs. You push your incisors into his lower lip and tug, pulling away just slightly to intake how fucking flushed he is.

He looks like a pornstar,

You pull away, hand cupping his jaw and forcing his mouth open. You’re gonna lose it if you stare too long.

“You’re so fucking sexy.”

“You’re not the first person to tell me that,” He mumbles. You laugh lightly at him.

“Your cocky attitude is pretty sexy too,” You hum, amused. You kiss him one more time, hands reaching for the thickest part of his waist. He’s built like a trunk, but his reactions are almost girlish. The contrast is making you twitch.

“Can’t say the same for you.” He spits. Your grin splits your face as you pull away from him, teeth nipping at his jaw. You can feel the scruff of his skin, unshaved as you let your tongue travel over it.

“Aw, what? You don’t think I’m sexy.” You nudge a knee between his legs feeling the half-hard outline of his cock. You shudder “You sure about that?”

“What the hell are they feeding brats like you?”

“Liquor and cigarettes.”

“Since when do you smoke?”

“Helps me relax after work,” You whisper against the shell of his ear, teeth tugging at the lobe before “I get pretty stressed out. Sure you know something about that.”

“Hngh, fuck. Fuck you.”

“Do you even know how? Not like that thing gets much use, huh?”

You reach down to cup his cock through his jeans, hard against the palm of your hand. He pushes his hips up slightly, sharpened glare. He pants.

“You sound, shit, so fucking sure.”

“I am sure. I’m looking to fuck you, not the other way around. Not sure how that’s gonna work since I don’t got my stuff on me.”

You’re not sure what you’re expecting him to say. This whole thing is feeling like a fever dream you can’t wake up out of. Maybe he’ll give you a suggestion on what else to do.. But instead of that, a blush crawls onto his face. It leaves you floored. He looks away from you.

“...Your shits still where you left it.”

It takes you a second to register what he means. When you do, you can feel your brows hit your fucking hairline. There’s no way he’s saying what you think he is.

“You’re shitting me.”

“Shut the fuck up. I thought you’d come to pick it back up but you never did, and I went to go move it into some boxes. I didn’t have any reason to toss it.”

A thought crosses into your mind.

“Hey. Old man. Where is it?”

He stares at you. You grasp onto him firmer, making him gasp. You can feel how heavy his cock is in your hands, rubbing it through the cloth of his sweats. You whisper harsh into his ears.

“If I open your goddamn drawer right now, tell me, am I gonna find my old strap in it? Clean and getting use? You been fucking yourself with the thing I used to lay dick with?”

When he doesn’t answer, pure glee ignites in you. He can’t answer, apparently. But his face is a harsh, permanent red now and his cock is painfully hard. You want to rail him into the fucking floor just for that. You wouldn’t make up some shit like that in your wildest dreams, so the fact that he’s not denying it makes your insides feel like they’re melting. You rub yourself against him, feeling how slick and hard your clit is just thinking about it.

“Go lay down.”

“Are you telling me what to do?”

You grab his ass as hard as you can before landing a hit on it that makes him nearly topple over. Even though he’s bigger than you in more ways than one, he reacts like that. His anger only lasts so long before it morphs into want.

“Of course I am. And you’re gonna listen.”

“What makes you so sure about that, huh? You think you can satisfy me?”

“You think you’re gonna intimidate me into backing down? After knowing you fuck your tight little ass to the thought of me? Fat chance.”

“I didn’t say anything like that.”

You laugh “You implied it. Now go lay down. Where’s your lube?”

He frowns at you.

“In the same drawer.”

You give him a knowing grin to which he shoves your face away. Ultimately though he listens to you, lying and making himself comfortable in the sheet as you grab whatevers in his little sex drawer. He wasn’t kidding about the strap, the lube seated next to it. You grab both quickly and join him, hovering over him.

You opt not to talk, slowing your pace to appreciate the view. You think he’s says something. Asks about what you’re doing and why - but you tune the words out as you run your hands over the curves of his body. He’s a wall of fucking muscle, his arms especially with a torso just tight enough for you to grab. The fabric of his shirt doesn’t leave much for imagination, but you’re still overwhelmed as you pull it up over his waist, his chest, his arms. The fabric comes loose and it’s nothing you haven’t seen before. You’ve got plenty of porn mags in your back pocket and even more boudoir shoots from him that you’ve stared at for hours.

But seeing it in person is completely different. You can see the rise and fall of his chest - the raised skin of a scar and plenty of over scratches and wounds. Fuck, he is so sexy and you are so drunk on lust you almost feel sick.

“Somethin’ catch your eye?”

His voice draws you out of the trance you're in, a lazy smirk spread on his face. You laugh.

“I get why you’re such a show-off,” This time you lean forward to kiss him - a hand wrapped around his throat, spare going to grab his chest. His tits are soft, they look like hard muscle and sinew but the fat is squished in your palms to perfectly for that“Fuck.”

“You’re acting like a horny teenager.” He says flatly.

“Been thinking about fucking you that long, so I guess so.”

“Are you serious?”

“Why’re you so shocked?” You make work kissing down his neck slowly, down his chest, one tweaking his nipple while your mouth makes work on the other one He swears above you, another wave of heat pulsing in your body “Don’t you hear shit like that all the time?”

“Shit that feels—I didn’t think you were, hngh—serious.”

“Obviously not. I still have all your slutty ass photos in my apartment somewhere.”

He pants. Makes the prettiest fucking sounds for you as you grope and squeeze and touch his body. You bite, hard, into his tits leaving a red mark of teeth that makes him shudder. You need to do it all over again.

“Haah, fuck. What the fuck?”

“You’re way sexier in person if that’s worth anything,” You groan, a shudder passing through you “Like way sexier.”

He looks like he wants to say something to you but the words die in his mouth. You laugh as you peer over him. His reactions are fucking adorable. Face is hot with a flush, watery eyes. Pretty. As much he’s rugged and strong and downright handsome, he is annoyingly fucking pretty. Having him underneath you is making all the power go to your head. Nothing feels more appealing to you right now than the idea of wrecking him completely.

You kiss down his body until you’re at his waist, taking his pants off unceremoniously. You have half a mind to rip them but you’re sure they’re expensive. He lifts his legs for you anyways, leaving a tight pair of boxers that leave nothing for the imagination at all.

“What the fuck,” You mumble, getting face to face with it. You pull the boxers off slowly, kissing his hip as you do. His cock pops out slowly as you pull it down. What an asshole. His dick is impossibly big too. A tuft of well trimmed blonde hairs sit neat at the base and the tip is a harsh red. There’s a little drop of pre-cum dribbling down the shaft that makes your brain feel fuzzy. It’s veiny too, tight balls sitting net at the base.

Another shiver wracks through you, as you reach your hand out to touch it tentatively. He groans sharply. You stick your tongue out, licking up from base to tip. He tastes of salt and skin, but it isn’t bad. You let your tongue lick at the slit, elated looking at him squirm underneath you.

“Nice dick.” You say back plainly. He snorts.

“Fuck off.”

‘’m serious,” You add, letting your eyes lid to look more serious “I don’t blow just anyone.”

You open your mouth wide, pulling lips over teeth as you ease the tip slowly. It’s hot. Hard as steel and intrusive against your tongue, you can feel it throb. Pulsing relentlessly, you lower yourself onto it slowly - taking as much in as you can. It’s difficult and messy, tongue out to cover as much as you can. You suction your mouth slowly, hollowing your cheeks. There’s something that feels so good about having him in your mouth, something even better about watching the faces of pleasure he makes above you.

You hum in appreciation and the vibrations prove to be too much as he nearly thrusts his dick into your throat. You brace yourself for it happening again - setting an even pace. He looks good like that, drowned in pleasure and unsure of what to do with himself. You wonder if it’s been a while since he’s acting so fucking cute about it. You assume as much.

What he said before, you wonder if he was picturing it. If he felt guilty about it. The idea of him jerking off in shame over the thought of his dick in your mouth makes your spine tingle. You cup his balls in your hand, squeezing gently as you get into a steady rhythm. You feel him above you trying to hold it all in, the muscles in his abdomen tightening each time you manage to get down further. It’s hard to breathe, the back of your throat feels narrow. Your skin is on fire.

“Fuck, fuck—where’d you learn how to—fuck!”

You feel him getting ready to cum, so you pull off swiftly. A delicious, needy whine comes out of his throat that leaves you mesmerized.

“What the hell?” He mumbles, heaving. You laugh.

“Hey,” You hum, lifting his hips until you can see his hole - pink and twitching “Every had someone eat your ass?”

“Are you offering?”

“Yeah.” You say back, kissing the insides of his thighs, gripping the muscle “I wanna know if it feels good for you.”

For whatever reason, this statement in particular makes his skin tinge pink. You hold back a laugh internally.

“So fucking weird.”

“Is that a no?”

“Do whatever you want.”

You chuckle at that. You sink your teeth into him again, this time working on the build up. His muscles give tension to your incessant biting, hard bone against muscle as you mark up his thick thighs. His ass is nice like you’d expect, tight and muscular. You work your way towards his hole slowly, thumb circling the tight ring of muscle first to gauge his reaction. He shudders, making you hold back a laugh.

“Kinda sensitive,” You say amused. You can feel him glaring without having to look “You can’t cum without it now, right?”

You’re mostly saying it in jest but the prolonged silence leaves you at a loss for words. Your eyes snap up at him, watching him huff and puff in embarrassment. Heat rolls through your body.

“It’s not like I fucking can’t ever, alright?”

“You’re too cute for your own good.”

“Don’t fucking call me cute you shitty little brat.”

“But you’re acting kinda adorable, old man,” You say slyly. You stick your tongue out, licking a long stripe against him. He shakes “Blushing up a fucking storm. Been a while?”

“Not really.”

“Oh, so it’s just ‘cause it’s me then?”

He looks like a fucking cherry. You laugh.

“To think you were so against it. How’d you hide your expressions that long? Did it help you to masturbate to the thought of me fucking you?”

“Would you shut up?”

“I don’t feel like it.”

Before he can scold you any more, you let your tongue slip against the exposed rim. The reaction is tentative at first, slow licks trying to gauge if this is something he’s even into. You do it again and again, burying yourself deep. He makes a noise that you recognize to be a muffled moan. You groan in appreciation, repeating the action - letting yourself dip into the tightness of it. You can feel the muscles of his body go taut as you grip him - hands over the tops of his thighs. The action is more shameless the longer you let yourself indulge.

You’ll have to fuck him open anyways before you actually get on top. You think doing this much will make everything easier. Mostly you’re doing it because you like seeing him embarrassed. The gap in appearance vs expression never gets old. Seeing like this repeatedly proves to be novel and fuck knows if he’s gonna let you do it again any time soon. You’re more than determined to squeeze out every last ounce of his pride.

You want to see everything.

And frankly, pleasuring him like this is driving you all kinds of crazy. Not like you’ve ever been a selfish lover. Always aiming to please or whatever. But he’s got such a raw fucking sex appeal looking the way he does it’s making you drip. You’re pretty damn sure you’ve soaked through everything you have on and you’re not sure how much longer you’re gonna make it without touching yourself.

It’s all material you’re committing to memory, either way. If anyone saw him like this, you’re pretty sure they’d fall head over heels just like you. It’s hard not to give him everything he’s ever wanted Not to want to fuck him within an inch of his life, just to see his big muscular frame curl in on itself. He’d look so good all messed up, all knotted with pleasure.

You can feel it again this time, another wave of desire that makes his cock twitch. You wrap your finger around the shaft, holding it around his balls so he doesn’t cum without asking you. He lets out a noise of disapproval that you ignore, pulling your mouth away. Pre-cum dribbles out of tip. You use your finger to swipe it up and lick it.

He looks scandalized.

“Not bad. You eat clean huh.”

“You’re going to kill me someday.”

“You’re too young and too healthy to die.”

He makes a face of disapproval at you. You toss him the lube before grabbing the strap.

“Think you can work yourself open for me tough guy? Normally, I’d do it myself. Edge you out nice and slow, get you all soft. But I’m dying to fuck you already and I wanna make you cum on my cock.”

He looks at you exasperated.

“Where’d you learn to talk like that?”

“Casual sex and porn mags. You don’t like it?”

“It makes you sound your age.”

“Want me a little more suave? Tell you that I’m gonna make love to you?”

He snorts. You take off your boxers and sit up on your knees as Bakugou opens the lube in his hands. You watch him idly, mostly focusing on wiggling yourself in the harness and making sure it’s comfortable enough to fuck in.

He takes a deep breath, and you watch him reach between his legs. How it’s difficult since he’s so muscular. You almost want to help him, but instead you get between his legs again. Stood on your knees with a heavy bit of silicone weighing you down. You connect the tip to his, watching him push a finger in slowly.

“Not if you say it like that.”

“Having trouble there?”

“You piece of shit.”

“A worthless punk or something. C’mon, just say it. Ask me to finger your ass so I can fuck you. Or you want me to say something more delicate?”

“Fuck, c’mon just, help me already.”

“What’s the magic word?”

“....Please, you worthless asshole.”

You grin, grabbing the lube from the bed and squeezing it into your fingers. You laugh, leaning over him.

“Got some manners left in you after everything, huh?”

You pull him down towards him by the waist, pulling his legs up. You kiss the inside of his knees, nudging his legs apart as you position your hands, warming the lube between your fingers. He’s surprised by your strength, but you don’t do anything but grin.

“Keep your legs up for me, yeah?”

He scoffs but doesn’t go against your will. He looks good waiting for you like that, so you don’t take too much time trying to split him open. His hands are thicker than yours, so your first finger slides in like it’s nothing. He’s soft and hot on the inside, and the way he accommodates you lets you know this isn’t the first time he’s done this.

It doesn’t irritate you as much as you think it should. Maybe you’re a little screwed up to think it’s sexy but the idea of him getting fucked at any point is turn on. Once you’re down to the knuckle and you can pump in and out of him easily, you use a second finger to stretch him further. There’s more resistance so you slow, feeling up against his walls for the place you know it’ll feel good.

You know you find it because his whole body tightens up in front of you. His eyes shoot open and he’s all breathy and fucked out. You relish in it.

“Right there?”

He must be feeling good with how little he’s combating you.

“Y-yeah.”

You lean forward to plant a kiss on him again but this time it’s tender. He must feel really good because he wraps his arms around your neck to keep you there. You moan in surprise and when you pull back he looks hazed out of his mind.

“Didn’t know you could make a face like that.” You say, amused. He frowns at you.

“I’m not happy about it either.”

A laugh falls out of you and you catch the faintest whisper of a smile on his lips that has you kissing the corners of his mouth. He catches himself before he leans into it too easily, but you notice before he can shy away.

“Looks like I’m making your heart flutter. Forget the ethics for a little and let me.”

“I should toss you out of a fucking window.”

“You’re not gonna though.”

This he doesn’t reply to. You slip a third finger while he’s distracted and he gasps. This time he’s almost stretched completely. You give him a minute to breathe, swallowing up the little sounds he makes with a hearty grin. It’s so fucking good just doing this. Incredible. Way better than you could’ve ever imagined.

“I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you,” You say, bemused. He’s delirious enough to laugh.

“The stamina of youths scares the hell outta me.”

“I don’t wanna hear it from a retired pro.”

This time he grins. You find yourself pleased with the development.

He’s stretched now, and restless. You pull your hand away and rub the remaining slick onto the tip of your cock, giving him a look.

“Do you know how you want me?”

“It’s your fantasy fuck,” He says, semi-sarcastically “Do whatever you want.”

You laugh, tapping his ass lightly.

“Turn over and stick your ass up a little.”

“Don’t wanna see my face?”

“Wanna see how you swallow my cock up like it’s nothing, more like.”

He curses under his breath. You feel accomplished. He turns over just like you’ve asked him too and fuck the sight of him is way too much. You can’t get over it. He’s big and strong and trembling with desire and it’s driving your sex-drive as high as it can possibly go. You move so your knees are on either side of his thighs. Leaning forward, you lick up from the small of his spine all the way up his shoulder, before sinking your teeth in the junction in between.

He groans underneath you, and your hands make themself present around his hips. Most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen in your life. The fucking arch and the scars and the ruggedness of all of it.

“You’re damn gorgeous.” You say, with utter and sincere appreciation “It’s driving me fucking crazy.”

“Save your smooth talk.”

“I’m bein’ serious,” You say, pulling his ass apart with your palms “Like. Woah.”

He snorts “Real poetic.”

“I barely graduated school, asshat.”

In the midst of your bantering, you let the tip of your cock slip into him slowly. It steals the words of reply out of his mouth in an instant. You can feel him melt underneath you. At the intrusion, at the feeling. At every single sensation. You feel the phantom of it in your spine. Like there’s fireworks in all your nerve-endings, just watching how his ass looks around it. Just the tip with no movement, no adjusting.

He’s silent, shuddering - holding onto a pillow. A bead of sweat rolls down his spine. He has little dimples in his back. You groan.

“Shit. Look at you.”

The praise seems to make him keen. He’s always been one to like the attention. You roll your hips, fucking another inch into him agonizingly slow. He moans like he’s deflating, breathing ragged and voice raw. You rock back and forth until there’s no longer anything to resist, then push in and in and in.

Once you bottom out with his ass against your pelvis and your hips on the back of his thighs, you lean forward and press your weight on top of him. You think he’s expecting something else, because he seems surprised. But you let yourself weigh upon him, then with a heavy grunt - cup his jaw and tilt his head to kiss him.

“You like that?”

“Shut up.”

“C’mon. Be honest. You look like you like it. Ears turning so red.”

He groans.

“In your fucking dreams.”

“Still not gonna budge huh?” You say. anchoring yourself at his sides with a deep sigh “So stubborn.”

When you feel stable enough to move, you don’t hesitate to fuck him with all of the expertise you have. You give it to him in just the right way, measure up to where he needs you but don’t give in quite enough. It’s a strenuous affair but you keep it at. A steady pace that’s hard and deep but not good enough to make him cum. Something to leave him on the edge, you fuck him just like that. The sound of skin hitting skin and short, broken moans echo in the room.

You focus on taking him like that, making sure each and every thrust is precise and calculated until he gets where you want him to be. You can practically feel when it’s starting to really get to him. When he can no longer hold himself up, so resigns to smushing his face against the pillow and going limp. You lean up, moving so you can pull his hips back with you - hovering off the bed on his knees instead of laying on his stomach.

This time you reach deeper. His whining gets louder, more in tune with everything. You laugh as you reach around him, hands gripping at the base of his cock. It takes patience to unravel him like this, matching your hands to your movements until everything is in a slow, steady synchronization. Fast but not fast enough. Hard, but not hard enough. Close but not close enough.

He lets out a heady groan that reverberates in his chest, opening his mouth finally.

“C-c’mon. Just. C’mon.”

“Aw what?” You say, rolling your hips up against him, where you know he wants you most “What is it, hm? Did you want something?”

“Fuck. Just. Fuck me already.”

“I am fucking you, though?”

“You know what I mean!”

“Oh, you want me to fuck you harder? Make you cum? I thought you didn’t like it.”

He groans, dropping against the pillows again.

“I didn’t say that. C’mon just. Please.”

His voice is hoarse when he asks. You laugh against his shoulders, listening to his requests. Giving it to him how he needs it. Harder and a little deeper, you can feel it now. How you knock into the place inside him that leaves him trembling and shaking. You can read his cues now, when he starts getting close. But of course it’s not gonna be that easy.

You keep the pace stand, putting your hand on the tip of his cock. You rub your thumb over the slit and hold it there. He sucks in a breath, whining a little.

“Wanna cum so bad?” You offer, mouth twisted in a feral grin “Tell me you love me.”

This knocks the wind out of him.

“What?”

“Say you love me with all your heart and I’ll let you cum.”

“You’ve got to be fucking with me.”

You fuck into him hard right where he needs you. He moans.

“Nah. My fantasy fuck, remember? Right now, we’re playing love birds.’ Like’ works too, I guess. If you’re too scared,” You half-way mock, starting a pace now that borders cruel “Now say it nice and sweet and I’ll let you cum.”

“You’re such a—agh, fuck,” He shudders against the bedsheets, repeating himself as you pound him. It’s easy to piston your hips. He’s so sensitive to begin with that it doesn’t take much “You’re insane.”

“C’mon, old man. Confess your feelings to me like we’re sweethearts.”

“In your dr—oh, shit.”

“What was’at? Did you wanna say something?”

You can practically feel him turn it over in his head. You’re mostly doing it to mess with him. Punishment for all of his beating around the bush and bullshitting. Getting to fuck him has been more than enough.

So you’re not expecting him to stop you. To turn over flat on his back and lay with his legs spread and wrap his arms around your waist and stare at you through hazy, flushed eyes. This time you’re really looking at him. At the lines on his face and the scruff and an expression torn with time and desire and lust. Your heart nearly falls out of your fucking ass when he wraps his arms around your neck, palming your nape and pushing your foreheads together.

When you’re nose to nose, he looks very serious all of a sudden. You swallow something in your throat, unsure of what else to do.

“Gonna say this one fucking time, only. So listen up cause I’m not gonna repeat myself.”

He’s got to be fucking with you.

“Love you..I love you or whatever. But that doesn’t mean—”

Before he can finish his sentence, you put your hands up under his knees and fuck him for all you’ve got. Half-way as revenge for the shitty confession and half-way because if you think too long about what he’s saying you’re pretty sure you’re going to collapse.

He sounds good under you, as you fist his cock and laugh in absolute fucking delight. You stare at him hard. At his fucked out expression. You’re gonna cuss him out as soon as this shit is over, you swear. What an asshole.

“O-oh, oh fuck, I’m gonna, g-gonna cum.”

You goad him cause you aren’t sure what else you should do at this point.

“Yeah? Gonna cum on my cock? Show it to me. Let me see what you look like.”

The words are enough to push him over the edge. He gets unraveled right before your eyes, his whole body pulled like a bow before losing all the tension. You can feel his cock twitching hotly in your palms. Thick strings of white covering your fingers as you fuck him through it. He sounds so perfect like that, so fucking good for you. You can feel your whole body ready to give out just watching.

When Bakugou finally finishes, he releases you from his grip. You pull out only seconds after, staring at his flushed state in wide-eyed disbelief.

“Were you serious?” You ask, because it’s the only thing you can think to ask. He sighs, tired.

“Yeah.”

Where the hell is this dudes class?

“Fuck.”

He laughs, laid down before poking his head back up to stare at you.

“You didn’t cum yet.” It’s more of a statement than a question. You shake your head.

“Not yet. I can take care of it.”

He clicks his teeth.

“No way. Come ‘ere.”

You undo the harness of your strap before crawling over to where he’s laid. You end up standing on your knees. He props himself up on his elbows, and you look down at him absolutely mesmerized. He crinkles his nose at you.

“That fucking lovesick look on your face is gross.”

“Been like this for four years.”

He flushes.

You stand in front of him, bare on your knees. He reaches forward, brushing the hair over the hood of your clit gently.

“You’re so wet.” He murmurs. You laugh.

“Yeah, no shit.” You say, too tired to do much arguing “Lemme borrow your mouth,”

He snorts “Got it.”

You fist your hands into his hair and tug, bringing his open mouth to your clit with a sigh. Your cunts sort from being pushed into and neglected. Even the barest brush of his mouth is making you shiver. Bakugou must know a little something about this, because he latches onto you without thinking twice. The sudden added pressure has heat building your stomach at the speed of light. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so on edge in such a short period of time.

Plus looking down at him while you hump against his face is enthralling.

“You’d make a cute little wife, old man,” You say thoughtfully, dull pleasure aching as you tuf his hair at the root “You can cook, clean, bake and you know how to use your mouth fucking perfectly.”

He gives you a look of exasperation, but the warmth down his neck tells you he likes it. You laugh, throwing your head back. The visible sight of arousal flowing down his chin and making his face messy is making you more horny than you know what to do with. You don’t have the energy to cum more than once but you’re sure when you wake you you’re gonna be horny all over again.

You try not to think too hard about it as you feel the knot in your stomach grow tighter before unraveling all at once. Your insides are hotter than lava, the entire lower half convulsing as the strength in your thighs and legs gets lost gradually. Bakugou sucks until you’re nearly overstimulated, and you have to pull him away before it really gets to be too much for you.

“You taste good.” He says thoughtfully. You laugh.

“Got plenty more if you want it.”

“We should clean up.”

“You’re not kicking me out?”

“I’m not a villain, damn it.”

“You feel like one for that loser ass confession, but I’ll let it slide. I need a fucking nap though. Getting my ass kicked and having incredible sex in the same day is exhausting.”

He laughs as you lay down besides him, sitting up. Even in your half exhausted state, you catch the feeling of his lips on your forehead.

“Get some rest you brat.”

You wake up in a familiar bed.

If the sore feeling of laying pipe wasn’t in your hips, you’re pretty damn sure you just woke up out of a dream. What the fuck just happened to you? Your back and body is sore, but you’re clean like you’ve been wiped down. You’re stark naked though.

The idea that he could give you a wipe but not dress you makes you laugh. When you sit up, all of your clothes are sitting still on a chair. There’s some new clothes on top of them though, his clothes. You stand to your feet, your back cracking as loud as possible as you examine the wounds. You have some hickies now (when the hell did he leave those) and when you turn there’s some scratches on your back. You feel self-satisfaction as you get dressed. You should hit the showers when you feel less lethargic.

When you’ve reconciled with the fact you didn’t just conjure up what happened a few hours ago, you trek back into the living room. You find Bakugou where you expect him, bent over the stove making dinner. You lean on the frame of the door with a grin before walking over to him.

You don’t hesitate in sliding your hands on his waist under his tank top. Better, he doesn’t react like you’ve shot him dead. A laugh blooms in your chest.

“Morning grandpa.”

“You fucking—if you don’t sit down.”

You snort, but sit yourself down at the counter like you did a few hours ago.

“Whatcha making for dinner.”

“Grilled fish and rice. There’s sides.”

“Sounds healthy.”

His ears turn red.

‘“You have work tomorrow but you need to recover.”

You couldn’t smile more if you fucking tried.

“We gonna talk about what just happened,” You ask, pouring yourself a glass of water as you sit down. You take a long sip “Or are you gonna pretend to keep washing rice?”

He sighs, putting down the dry rice and the cup to measure. He almost looks furious, but he’s too cute for it to mean anything to you. You grin.

“Hey. Fucking. Look. Alright. You’re way too fucking young. I’m old enough to be your father a-and you only just barely got your life together, so yes I told you whatever I told you. But no fucking funny business until you’re at least 25 and your brain is developed more than a peanut.”

You nod..

“Anyone ever tell you you’re kinda a coward old man?” You say thoughtfully. He looks pissed again but it’s too funny for you to care “What’s funny business? Sex? Cause if it is, I’ve got bad news.”

“We just. We have to be careful.”

“So I can kiss, hug, fuck you in private but keep it outta the press?”

He stares at you, scratching his neck. “Yeah. Basically.”

You give him a thumbs up, grabbing a snack off the tray on his table. Chips, the fancy kind. They’re good.

“Got it. Can I stay over? I don’t feel like driving down to my hotel this late.”

“....You’re not pissed?”

You laugh.

“Are you kidding? I wasn’t mad the first time cause you rejected me, I was mad cause you were acting all fucking ethical and holier-than-thou. I figured it was gonna be something like that anyway. And I’m not much of a romantic, so dates and shit are whatever to me,”

“Forreal?”

“Yeah. Having sex and staying over to hang out for a while is cool. It was your fat head worrying about it, not mine. Did Mr. Deku managed to talk you out of your crisis while I was asleep?”

He gives you a look. Bullseye again.

“You two keep in touch?”

“He’s a good dude and he buys me a meal when I’m short on change. Jealous?”

He turns away from you before answering. His ears are burning. You feel your heart squeeze.

What shit taste you’ve got being head over heels for this old bastard, you wonder.

“Just shut up and eat your chips.”

“Uh-huh. Whatever you say.”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #bnha x reader #bnha smut #writing tag #age gap cw #the craziest part of this is me reading this back and thinking. oh man. i could make this so much longer #im tainted beyond repair #the fact this is ONLY 10k is quite literally a miracle

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