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tteokdoroki · 3 months

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⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡. — KATSUKU BAKUGOU. setting powder.

about. whilst getting ready to meet your new boyfriend’s extended family — you learn that he knows a thing or two about doing makeup.

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, characters aged up to 20s, enemies to lovers, meeting the family, new relationships, brief mention of injury and hospitals, reader wears makeup and dresses, pro hero!bakugou, nurse/doctor!reader.

“we’re gonna be late, sweetheart.”

leaning against the door frame, bakugou crosses his arms over his chest — his perfect lips pulled into a suave smirk as he watches you finish your makeup for tonight.

“wha…huh? you said i had twenty minutes?” you’re still half dressed, your boyfriend’s baggy hoodie from an old merch collection draped over your sweet little dress to protect it from your foundation, your hair is tied back and away from your face so it doesn’t get in the way and though you’re still trying to blend your cream blush in with one of those sponge things — katsuki thinks you’re the most adorable thing in the entire world.

pushing himself off the door frame, he sits behind you on the bed — still watching you work at the vanity whilst he fixes the cuffs of his dress shirt. “that was twenty minutes ago,” the blonde rasps affectionately and grasps your at your jewellery laid out on the bed. the rough pad of his thumb traces over the ‘K’ on the silver heart locket he’d gotten you for your birthday before he undoes the clasp and places the chain around your neck — being mindful of your hair in the process. “y’said you’d be done by then.”

you catch your boyfriend’s vermillion stare in the reflection of your mirror — his subtle smile when he sees his initials dangling from your neck. it feels you with warmth to know that no matter what, katsuki will always find you beautiful and will always love you. even with how chaotic your makeup looks when half done. “i think i spent too long in the shower ‘n underestimated how long this look would take,” you sigh, reaching for your lip gloss next. you’ll have to put it in your purse, do your lips in the car. “do you think they’ll mind if we’re any later than this?”

“my parents won’t. neither will inko. deku — i mean — izuku will, but he’ll pretend he ain’t bothered,” bakugou prattles down the list, making a note of tonight’s attendees. it was tradition that the bakugous and the midoriyas had a monthly dinner together, it had been going on since the two pro heroes were children. only now, their partners were invited since they were family too. family included you.

you hadn’t gone to U.A and you certainly didn’t know katsuki until he became an up and coming pro hero. the first time he’d saved you, by the sidewalk of the hospital you worked at, you thought he was brutish and stuck up. you’d hated him and he’d hated you. but over time, and more frequent trips to A&E after saving civilians or sometimes after being wounded in villain attacks — you’d come to appreciate bakugou’s brooding personality and observant nature.

he’d come to like you too. how much you cared for others and wanted to make the world a better place. you reminded him a little bit of izuku, in a strange way.

so one night when you were on call, katsuki brought you flowers instead of a stomach wound that needed stitches and you’d given him a kiss instead of berating him about being careful, over vanilla and chocolate pudding cups from the hospital cafeteria.

signing impatiently, you bring katsuki back to present day. “i wanted to make a good impression on your aunty and on your best friend,” rubbing your arm nervously, you cast your gaze over the mess on your vanity — expensive products splayed across them in organised chaos.

“you will. they’re gonna love you. they already do,” bakugou stands behind you now, rough palms smoothing over your shoulders. “izuku says you’ve made me less bitchy at work. whatever the fuck that means.”

you giggle, eyes sparkling in delight as you look at the blonde in the mirror. “really?”

“really,” he nods sheepishly. the way you look at him makes him feel so loved. it’s new to him. nice to him. “now, whaddya need help with s’we can hurry up ‘n hit the road.”

you begin to ramble on, perking up at the idea of katsuki helping with the rest of your routine.“well… i’ve done my lashes, my eyes, my base and blush… i can do lips in the car. aside from putting on earrings and fixing my hair all i need is to set my face with—“

“settin’ powder,” bakugou grabs the little pot from your vanity as if he knew where it was all along, picking up a little face cushion as well as he prepares to get to work. “got it.” he dips the cushion into the translucent powder, rubbing the excess off on the back of his hand before leaning in real close to dab at the areas he thinks you need it. like your t-zone.

your boyfriend’s touch is like magic on your face, perfectly setting your makeup while making you feel like a pampered princess. “who taught you how to do this?” comes your shy mumble, his proximity to your face causing you to grow flustered and squirm in your seat. “h-how are you so good at it?”

“keep still, i’ll be finished faster if y’stop squirmin’ sweetheart. don’t wanna mess up what you’ve done already,” pausing his actions, katsuki gives you a toothy smirk — revelling in how bashful you’ve become under his touch while he helps you with your makeup. “…grew up behind the scenes of fashion shows ‘n shoots. so i picked up a thing or two i wanted to make sure i could still do it so i watched a couple of videos on it too. ‘n i noticed…you always put so much time ‘n effort into your makeup. wanted to help make the process easier for you.”

you feel as though you could melt at katsuki’s kind words and gesture as he dabs at your face a little more — tongue caught between the toes of his pew rlly white teeth as he sticks it out in concentration. he’s so cute it makes you want to scream. “you’re sweet,” you coo appreciatively, stilling yourself to let him finish before he pulls back — satisfied with his work. “i love you.”

it’s not the first time you’ve said it to one another, but the three words are still new to the both of you. “i uh…i love you more,” a pink, rosey hue rises on the surface of bakugou’s tanned skin and his red, loving eyes dart away from your face bashfully. “‘m gonna get your shoes ‘n jacket ready by the door while that sits. don’t forget your settin’ spray after you brush that shit off — oh ‘n don’t take my hoodie off until you’ve done that. don’t wanna ruin your dress, kay?”

“okay,” you respond fondly, hiding your smile at his very specific instructions. “i’ll be down in a minute.”

katsuki nods hesitantly, standing up as he gathers your belongings and outerwear — ready to load them up in the car, when he suddenly pauses in place. “you look beautiful tonight, sweetness. you always do.” he adds as one last parting message, before disappearing down the hall.

leaving you wondering how you ever lucked out with such a man. one who’s not only kind and gentle and loving, but a pro hero and a makeup artist at that.

#tteokdoroki #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou drabble #bakugou fluff #bakugou x you #bakugo fluff #bakugou imagines #bnha x reader #bnha fluff #bnha imagines #mha x reader #mha fluff #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing

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jujutsukatsuki · 11 months

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Katsuki knew from a young age that he wanted to be the best. He would sacrifice what he had to go get there. Even if that meant losing the people closest to him.

You knew from a young age that you wanted to be Katsuki’s. That you’d stand by his side and love him forever. You’d sacrifice whatever you could to be his.

It worked for a while. You pined after him. He shoved you away.

“Oi! Get off!” He barked and tried to shove you off of him. Katsuki had just won the UA festival and you met up with him after.

“No! You won! You did so good!” You squeal and squeeze the blonde tightly.

Katsuki knew that you and him could never happen. You were the annoying girl who lived across the street. The girl he was forced to play with when your moms would have coffee together on Saturday mornings.

You knew that you’d have to chip away at the icy exterior to make room for yourself in his heart. He wasn’t just Dynamite. He was Katsuki. The boy who lived across that street. The boy you’d spend Friday nights roasting marshmallows with in the winter time with the use of his quirk.

His time at UA came and went. With lots of bumps in the road, he always seemingly found himself at your doorstep. Disheveled. Bleeding. Nearing exhaustion.

“Sit still.” You whisper softly as you stitch him up. You went on to become a doctor, thanks to Katsuki. You saw the difference he was making in the world and you wanted to do it too.

“I am.” He said gruffly and took another swig of vodka. He looked down at your concentrated face. The way your brows furrowed as you carefully threaded the needle. He wouldn’t ever admit it, but every time you were finished healing him up, he craved the hug you’d give. Like you were holding him together.

As Katsuki moved up in the world, did you. He was the number two hero. You were a top doctor at your hospital. There was a day that seemed to be like any other. Some petty robberies, a few check ups. The day was normal for you both.

Until a huge explosion shook the hospital and sent everyone in a panic. Three villains came in and started causing destruction, and chaos. You quickly started to help patients that were laying in the rubble, you didn’t care that the villains were close by you. You put other people before yourself.

That was the last thing you remember before waking up in someone’s arms. Soft water droplets we’re hitting your face. You scrunched your brows together, your eyes felt heavy as you slowly opened them. Your vision slowly focused as you saw the spiky blonde holding you. Tears mixed with remnants of black from his eyeliner slowly ran down his cheeks and onto your face.

“Come on. Wake up. Please.” His voice was hoarse. You wanted to laugh, to tell him you were right that someday all the yelling would get to him.

“Y/n please. If you wake up right now, I’ll marry you. Just please get up. I can’t do this without you!” You’ve never heard katsuki this upset before. When you’ve finally become coherent enough to slowly move, you gently wrap your arms around him in a hug.

“I’d never leave you Suki.” You whisper to him. For the first ever, he hugs you back. His hand grip the tattered up doctors jacket like you’d fade from existence. He buried his face in your neck as you both hold each other.

Katsuki takes you to his apartment that night, he says it’s for your safety just incase. You can tell he’s lying. Which is why when he shows you the guest room to let you lay down and rest, you turn and lay in his bed instead. The corner of his mouth turns up into a smile before he lays with you.

You know that katsuki will never love you like you love him.

Katsuki knows that you will never understand his love for you. That his love isn’t something he can put in words. He doesn’t know how to translate his love into something you can understand. But he’ll work at it. Because he loves you.

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #mha x reader #bakugo katuski x reader #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #bnha x reader

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daydreamerdrew · 2 years

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The Defenders (1972) #65

#ehh I don’t like this approach to Valkyrie #like she started off as this warrior woman put in the body of a regular woman who she had no memories of #and she didn’t have any memories of before that either like she was created when she was put in Barbara’s body #and Valkyrie’s certainly strong-willed but she wasn’t ever lusting for battle #and the idea that Barbara’s consciousness was in any way affecting Valkyrie came a ways into her character #it wasn’t an element in the beginning so #it wasn’t Barbara’s presence in Valkyrie’s mind that made her not battle obsessed #so Valkyrie being plagued by this isn’t really working for me #but at the same time Valkyrie was created by the villain the Enchantress #so if this is like a temporary thing that’s a side effect of a villain creating her then maybe that would work #we’ll see how this plays out #marvel #valkyrie #kyle richmond #my posts #comic panels

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starry-songs-canvas · 6 months

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Danny is literally Kryptonite

Sorry for the late post, holidays have been busy this year. Anyway, enjoy my newest dpxdc prompt!

The kryptonite didn’t work.

Batman is now running on… limited options.

Superman had been possessed again, but this time with an unknown. He is exhibiting signs of extreme degradation at this point, after the several hours of fighting. Justice League Dark have been unsuccessful with any long ranged spells, and whatever it is controlling Superman has not allowed them to get close.

The Flash is down, as is Wonder Woman. The remaining Supers started showing the effects of Kryptonite whenever they got in a radius of Superman, so they have been put on civilian rescue.

Things… are looking grim.

Suddenly, a black blur flies and slams into Superman, then straightens up to reveal a young, white haired teen, floating above Superman in a crater.

“Ya’ll are REALLY trying to make me look like a villain, aren’t yah?”

. . .

The fight lasts for thirty minutes, while the young hero(?) seems to stall him, keeping the fight within a one-mile radius, lessening the damage to the city. Well, as much as he can, at this point.

“Got it!” He yells suddenly, grabbing and throwing Superman to two other teenagers and… a dream catcher? A glowing green dream catcher.

Superman tumbles through it, and a green blobbed-shaped entity lifts off of him, and is immediately vacuumed into- a soup thermos, why not- by one of the other teenagers.

Just.

what?

#dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #dc x dp prompt #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #Superman gets overshadowed #Danny’s terrified of the Justice League #But he still wants the planet intact #Danny is literally Superman kryptonite #Superman is allergic to ectoplasm #Superman is having a hard time

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bensolosbluesaber · 1 year

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Nowhere to Run: Part 1 (Miguel O’Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Spider-Woman!f!reader)

Pairings: Miguel O’Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Spider-Woman!f!reader

Warnings: Hints of suicidal ideation on reader’s part, Fang stuff (Miguel uses fangs on reader), Chasing, Miguel is maybe ooc (I only saw the movie once and was mostly trying to keep from audibly moaning every time he was on-screen), Miguel and reader fight - he does some damage, Poison, Wounds, Not edited (but I will come back for some minor edits later on), Let me know if I missed anything

Summary: After the collapse of your universe, you resort to jumping around the multiverse to survive. Evolution gave you the powers needed to escape your universe. Technology of your own design stopped the glitches. But you haven’t found a way to escape the man relentlessly hunting you across every universe - Spider-Man 2099. ~2,500 words

Angst, hurt/comfort, eventual happy ending

A/N: This is for all of us who watched the Nueva York chase scene/train sequence and thought ‘when do I get to be Miles?’ This is dedicated to the Miguel O’Hara editors on TikTok - you guys are doing god’s work over there (especially with the captions). There shouldn’t be any spoilers in here beyond what was shown in trailers, but tread as carefully as you feel you need.

EDIT: Part 2

A persistent tingle deep in your mind vibrated madly the closer Spider-Man 2099 was to you. It was your Spidey-sense warning you of danger. For the first few months, you managed to stay several universe’s ahead of the terrifying Spider-Man variant, but after running for months with no one to help you, dodging the Spider-Person in each universe, and growing more exhausted with each portal you opened, 2099 was catching up.

He was catching up quite literally. The man was a few blocks behind you, pursuing you through the streets of a Queens in a universe you had never seen before. Buildings were built into trees. The entire city was a perfect symbiosis between nature and technology. It was beautiful, but there was no time to appreciate it. The time on your wrist ticked down. Seventy-six seconds. Seventy-five.

You shot out another web. It caught a window, and you took a sharp corner then another trying to lose the hunter.

Seventy seconds until you could safely open another portal. Well safe was a relative measure. Ideally you would allow a full day between jumps, but if you only had twelve hours, well then odds of survival rose to about fifty-fifty. Anything less than twelve hours and implosion was basically guaranteed.

Sixty-eight. You extended your legs for more momentum, rolled in the air, shot out two webs and used them to zip forward. Sixty-two. 2099 was fast, faster than you. You didn’t dare to look back to see if he was still in pursuit.

He protected the multiverse, kept it from collapsing in on itself, and you put the entire web of connection at risk just by being alive outside of your universe. You didn’t begrudge 2099 for what he thought he had to do. Maybe it was true that your presence could cause a universe to collapse, but you were careful not to stay for too long, not to interact with the Spider of that universe, not to fight any super-villains. If he could just understand that you were careful, that you didn’t want a multiversal collapse anymore than he did, maybe he would be reasonable.

Then again, maybe not. He was relentless, and from what little you had heard of Spider-Man 2099, he wasn’t one for talk and negotiation.

Fifty-five. You dived down, shot another web, swung again. You could never go back to your world’s boundless emptiness and not another living soul. That thought kept your exhausted muscles working. Fifty. The void was all that remained of your collapsed universe, a void in which you could not die but where no one else could live.

Forty-eight. Forty seven. This block was all future, half-built apartment buildings.

Thirty. You’d long ago lost your suit. All that remained was the mask that obscured your face. You must look ridiculous swinging around in stolen street-clothes: a baggy sweatshirt, leggings, dirty sneakers.

Twenty-one. Nearly there. Just a few-

A solid mass of muscle stole the breath from your lungs and flattened you into a cement wall. Claws shattered the cement beside your head into a fine gray powder. A hand closed around your throat, and you were crushed between the blue and red clad Spider-Man and the wall.

He was pure muscle. This was the closest you’d ever been to 2099, and his sheer size was terrifying. The red lines on his mask narrowed with his eyes as he studied you.

Eighteen. You pushed at his broad chest, struggling desperately to fight him off, but he was enhanced too and probably well-fed and rested - two things you were not.

“Stop fighting me,” 2099 growled into your ear, his voice a deep rumble that you felt in his chest.

“I won’t go back.” You choked out the words while you planted a knee against him and tried to kick him away. Your efforts were utterly useless. Quite literally, you could feel muscles rippling across his chest and arms as he held you against the wall while you trid to wriggle free.

In the corner of your eye, you watched the red numbers tick down. Six. Five. Was it even possible? It had to be.

2099 brought you forward then slammed you into the wall again. The impact made your head spin. The red lines of his mask doubled and tripled. He was trying to get something around your wrist.

“Hold still!”

Two.

With the last vestige of strength left in your body, you brought a hand to his face and shot a wad of webbing at his eyes. He growled and stopped his attempt to hand-cuff you - or whatever he was doing - to wipe the webbing away. For a second he was distracted. You imagined the glowing golden portal. Closed your eyes. Energy sparked in your body, coursed through your veins and arm. You shot a web at the wall behind you. It shimmered gold, dim gold, but still gold.

There was a moment where you thought it hadn't worked. Then the wall crumbled away and you felt wind whip you backward as a bright gold light filled the space. 2099 reached for you, claws extended. Four knife-like talons dug into your shoulder, ripping through the ratty sweater, digging into your skin, and tearing four long bloody stripes into your flesh as the portal drug you away..

You planted both feet on his stomach and kicked him off. A bright red web shot out from 2099’s hand to tangle in a tree. The last thing you saw was 2099 falling then catching himself before you tumbled away from him and toward a new universe.

It was raining on this new Earth. Actually, ‘raining’ was a bit of an understatement. It was absolutely pouring, and you were soaked before you hit the ground. Hard.

You hadn't been as focused as you needed to be, and the portal had opened in the sky and dropped you ten feet to the roof of a towering building in some universe’s version of New York. You couldn’t tear the mask from your face quick enough as you gasped desperately for air. 2099 was strong, and he’d smashed you half a foot into solid cement.

Your ribs ached. So did your head for that matter. But it was the dull ache spreading across your shoulder, down your arm, and seeping through your muscles like liquid fire that really made you afraid.

The gray of your stolen sweater was soaked in crimson blood. Carefully, you pushed the stained fabric over your shoulder.

Shit. Shit!

Beneath the torn fabric, your skin glowed a sickly, dare you say radioactive red - the same red as 2099’s suit. His talons must have been poisoned, and now that poison was making it’s way through your body, causing unknown damage and immense pain. There had to be a lab on this Earth. Right? If you could only get there, you were smart enough to whip up an antidote.

But as you stood, it was obvious that you wouldn’t be going anywhere. The poison was potent and fast-acting. Insanely, you wondered if it was really poison or if you should be calling it venom. It didn’t matter, because a moment after gaining your feet, your legs failed. You careened forward and nearly smashed your head again, only just catching yourself before slowly laying down in the rainwater.

City lights sparkled in the distance and reflected in the puddle forming around your head. Purple and blues and few bright yellows. Not a bad view if this was how you died. If only the poison weren’t so painful. You wanted to scream, but you lacked the strength.

A familiar tingle shot across your spine a second before the bright gold light of a portal obscured the reflection of the city lights. No! He was so close when you jumped universe’s. He must have tracked you; no wonder he hadn't bothered to chase you through the portal.

You scrambled backwards weakly, your feet struggling for purchase on the slick roof as the broad shouldered man appeared. He was wreathed in gold light. You couldn’t jump again, couldn’t even stand, could barely drag your body through the rain as Spider-Man 2099 strode closer.

“Nowhere to run,” he said. His voice was flat, like he took no pleasure in finally having you trapped.

“I won’t go back!” You tried to sound tough, strong, but your voice cracked over the words. “There’s nothing there. I can’t. I’d rather die than- than go back to nothing. 2099, don’t send me back”

Your fingers felt the ledge of the building and empty air beyond it. Poison. Fall. The clawed Spider-Man. A slow descent into madness trapped in the empty and endless remains of your home universe. A fall seemed fastest. But you didn’t want to. You were scared. You didn’t really want to die. Your shoulder throbbed and head filled with fog. The skin was glowing such a bright red you could see it in the corner of your eye.

In the brief moment you hesitated, he was on you. 2099’s red webs wrapped around your chest, and he yanked you forward and away from the ledge. You crumpled at his feet, and he just stared down at you through that mask. His blue and red mask swam in your vision as you stared up at him. Was it the rain that was so cold? Or was it the poison? No, venom. Poison? Venom?

2099’s face got bigger as he knelt beside you.

“What is this?” He pulled at the torn sweater, his gaze falling on the bright red mottling your skin.

Miguel O’Hara had never seen his claws damage anyone like this. There was no venom in them… unless in whatever universe you had come from something about them was venomous. It was possible. His fangs were venomous, that he did know.

Miguel pulled off his mask, the adrenaline of the chase fading while he watched you struggle for life. He’d meant to stop you, take you back to base, figure out where you’d come from… not kill you. He ran his tongue over one of the fangs protruding from his mouth.

The next thing you knew, 2099 was sitting next to you and pulling you onto his lap. It might have all been a dream, you couldn’t tell. The lights were so beautiful. Your head lolled to one side, your whole body limp as a ragdoll in his muscular arms. His face filled your vision and blocked out the pretty lights.

He had a strong jawline, dark curls, sharp cheekbones, a broad nose, and were those fangs? And were his eyes glowing red? Yes, two orbs as red as the suit and your poisoned skin shone down at you. He was pretty too. This had to be a dream. The monster chasing you couldn’t be so handsome. You blinked, eyes unfocused. Your Spidey-sense was going wild, but you couldn’t bring yourself to fight. 2099 was warm, and you could go to sleep right here.

He shifted your body again so your side was pressed against his chest. “2099,” you whispered weakly, pathetically.

“I’m sorry for this,” he whispered in that low growl. Now it was tinged with what almost sounded like real regret. “It’s the best I can think of.”

He guided your head to rest in the curve of his shoulder, face turned toward his neck. One hand brushed hair away from your neck, the other wrapped around your waist. His fingers were no longer clawed, and his movements were gentle as he held you close, muscles tensing underneath your body. The expression on his face was tender. It seemed impossible that this was the same man who had made you his prey for months.

“Don’t panic now,” he whispered as he lowered his lips to your neck. “Stay still.”

You were barely aware of what was happening. His lips were warm, then four sharp pricks stung the base of your neck just above your collarbone and the deep poisoned wounds. Panic tried to rise in your throat, but you weren’t conscious enough to really process that a man currently had his fangs sunk into your throat. He drew back and spit out bright red poison, then bit into you again. Then again. And again.

Miguel was exceptionally careful with you, holding you perfectly still and being sure to sink his fangs into the same spot each time so as not to mark your skin any more than necessary.

Slowly, the world began coming back into focus. You were exhausted, but the poison was being was successfully being leeched from your system by his fangs. Brown curls were the first thing you became aware of, then the almost unnatural warmth coming from the man beneath you, then the cold pricks on rain on your back, then... then that something was biting you. Before you could wrench your head back, a large hand cradled the back of your head. You desperately tried to struggle as you realized what this vampiric Spider-Man was doing to you. The muscles in his arm flexed as he held your head still.

2099 pulled his fangs from your neck, spit bright red then let go of your head. You sat up quickly. The movement made you dizzy.

“I know you’re scared.” Miguel could see the fear in your eyes. He nodded to your still glowing shoulder. It was dimmer now and hurt less, but it was still obvious poisoned. “But this is working. Let me help you.”

You were looking him right in the eyes, the glowing red eyes, and though you didn’t trust him, you knew instinctively he was right.

“Okay,” you breathed lowly.

You laid your head on his shoulder. Miguel could feel how your whole body trembled, but whether it was from fear or cold or something else entirely he couldn’t tell. When his lips touched your skin you whimpered. That was fear.

Miguel still had one arm around you, but he took your hand in his free one, interlaced your fingers, and squeezed once. Then he sunk his fangs into your neck. It stung a bit but didn’t really hurt. Now that your were conscious, you could feel the poison being drawn toward the spot where his mouth connected to your skin. That didn’t really hurt either. It was like stretching a sore muscle - a satisfying pain that ultimately brought relief.

2099 drew back to spit out his poison. When was the last time you’d touched someone like this? A touch that was more than an accidental brush in the street - or a purposeful one so you could steal someone’s wallet. 2099 was your enemy, your hunter. He was dangerous. But he was saving your life and holding you so tenderly it made your chest ache.

“Once more,” he promised.

His fangs brushed over your skin for the last time. You pulled your hand from his and splayed your fingers across his chest. 2099 brought his now free hand to your poisoned shoulder and pushed the ripped fabric apart.

Miguel watched the last of the poison be pulled from your veins as it filled his mouth. He spit it out then turned back to study how your body was pressed against him.

“Can you stand?” He asked.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. Then panic hit and you jerked back, still sitting on his lap but with your face now safely away from his fangs. “You- you’re going to send me back. 2099, please don’t.”

“Why do you keep calling me that? My name is Miguel.”

Miguel. 2099 had a name. Of course he did, but hearing it made him seem so human. And his face was handsome. That was no venom or poison induced hallucination. The man was beautiful.

“And no. Not yet.”

“My universe collapsed. There’s nothing for me to go back to.”

His red eyes softened as they met yours.

“We won’t send you back to an empty universe,” he paused, and one side of his lips twitched up. “You ran because you thought I’d send you back to a void? I see I have quite the reputation.”

Miguel lifted you to your feet easily. He set you on your feet and tapped the watch-like contraption on his wrist. You leaned against his muscled chest for stability. Even without his poison, you were still wounded and tired and malnourished. A portal spiraled out in front of you both.

“You promise not to send me back there?” You looked up at Miguel. He squinted at the portal’s bright light and tugged the mask back over his face.

“Promise.”

To be continued...

Part 2

A/N: Part 2 will be a little time jump, and we’ll actually see Miguel and reader get into a relationship!

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@copingchaos @n1ght5h4d3-24 @paintmekala @chaoticevilbakugo @janebby @chaoticevilbakugo @weirdo125 @roseqzpd @bitchyglitterfox @m0nster-fvcker @romanarose

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itgetzweird08 · 9 days

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“You’re nervous..”

You said so matter of factly, your head resting on Bakugou’s chest. He grunted, opening one eye to look down at your face. “I can tell,” you continued “Because you didn’t clean your room before we laid down… and you didn’t do your reps. You only miss those when you’re sick or when you’re so nervous you can’t focus. And I know you aren’t sick so…” he scoffed, closing his eye again. “You should be a goddamn detective if this hero shit don’t work out.” You chuckled, but his joke didn’t distract you. “Talk to me Kats…you’re nervous about tomorrow, aren’t you?”

He stayed silent, and for a moment you thought prying was a bad idea. You had only been dating for four months, since Christmas, and you didn’t want to over step any still fresh boundaries. But Katsuki sighed, shrugging softly. He figured, if there was anyone he could be real with, it was you. Plus, he was trying to learn to communicate a little better anyways.

“Yeah. ‘M nervous. Not cuz I don’t think we’ll win, but because of…you.”

You sat up, looking at him confused. “Because of me?” He huffed, sitting up and facing you. “Yeah- I know we’ll kick ass. We got the top heroes, Mr. Aizawa, and both of our classes. Even though they ain’t as strong as me, everyone can put up a fucking fight. But..I’m worried something’s going to happen to you. What if they put you on the front lines, or the villains manage to get free and end up hurting you? Taking you? What then? What if…I can’t protect you?”

You frowned hearing his worries, and at some point during the confession, took his hand. But your frown slowly turned into a soft smile, and you ran your thumb across his knuckles in an attempt too soothe him. “Kats… do you remember what you said when you confessed to me?”

He snorted, “Of course I fucking remember. I said ‘go out with me you damn nerd, it’s getting cold out here.’” You shook your head, nudging him with your shoulder. “Before that, dummy. You said-“ He cut you off “ I said ‘I’ve fucking liked you since the fitness test. I thought you were beautiful, capable, smart, and stronger than the rest of the extras in this goddamn school and if there’s anyone who can give me a run for my money to be the top hero, it’s you. And I think it’s still true’” He quoted himself, and you kissed his cheek, taking his face into your hands. “Exactly— you know I’m capable of protecting myself and putting up a fight. Trust me, I’m concerned as hell for you too, but I need you to focus on the mission and not me. I’ll be okay. We’re both gonna kick some villain ass and I promise once it’s all over I’ll be right back here laying next to you and watching that cheesy fucking all might movie you love so much.”

He growled, grabbing a pillow from behind him and gently whacking you with it. “It ain’t fucking cheesy! It’s classic fucking cinema”

You grabbed your own pillow and hit him back, giggling all the while. “Mmhm! Of course it is.”

“I’m serious Y/N!”

It was moments like this that kept Bakugo brave as the battle began. And it was moments like this that you both thought about as he took his dying breaths. He was so worried about protecting you, but you couldn’t protect him.

Pity.

——— —-

I have no remorse :) Anyways im starting to do requests! So if you have an idea for me, go ahead and put it in my asks <3

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ekingston · 21 days

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A chef!AU, maybe? In any case, a story in which Kara and Lena meet through one of them preparing/serving/etc food for the other and build their relationship based on that.

(also on ao3.)

“I’m telling you, Alex. It’s her.”

At three pm on a Tuesday their restaurant is characteristically dead, save for the one lone customer Kara is spying on from behind the kitchen doors. The woman is perched, a little perilously, on a barstool at the counter. It’s the one that’s closest to their register, the one with the wobbly leg that Alex keeps telling Kara to fix. One of her red-soled heels is dangling from an impatiently bouncing left foot.

“This is the fourth time this week she’s come in here,” Kara says. “You don’t think that’s just a little bit suspicious?”

Alex shrugs, fully committed to her task of mincing onions. “Maybe she’s just a big fan of Italian food.”

“No way,” Kara says. “No woman who looks like that would put something in her mouth that wasn’t clearly marked gluten-free and vegan. Give me your phone.”

Alex rolls her eyes dramatically as she elbows it over. “Tell me again how you’re totally over Siobhan.”

“Oral sex isn’t a moral issue!” Kara takes a decisive breath while she unlocks her sister’s phone with practiced ease. “Whatever. Water under the bridge.”

“Uh-huh.”

“A love for pasta also doesn't explain why I heard this woman answer a call yesterday with a different name than the one that’s on her credit card,” Kara points out, before snapping a quick picture through the porthole window.

“Okay, now you’re being creepy,” Alex says.

“Shut up,” Kara tells her. “I’m texting Winn.”

Kara eyes the woman at the counter while she waits for his reply. The subject of her suspicion—Lena, she’d called herself on the phone; Tess Mercer, it had said on her mastercard—twists a soft-looking lock of dark hair around her finger as she studies their menu. The way the sunlight sets it ablaze almost makes Kara take a second picture, purely for its artistic merit.

Alex dabs at her onion-induced tears with the cuff of her sleeve. “Let it go, Kara,” she sighs.

“Let it go? Let it—” Kara whirls back to face her, throwing her hands up in frustration. “Do you want The Tower to end up like Winn and James’ steakhouse? Or are you fine with getting swindled by this—this… villain?”

“Of course not.” Alex looks at her like she’s stupid. “But even if this woman is your so-called ‘food influencer’, what do you suggest we do about it? It’s not as if we can bully her into giving us a fair review.”

Kara squares her jaw and sets her fists firmly on her hips. “No,” she declares, her tone grim. “But we can teach her a little about journalistic integrity.” She blows at a lock of hair that’s fallen in her face. “And also, possibly, credit card fraud.”

Alex narrows her eyes at her. “Kara,” she warns, putting down her knife. Her voice is low and cautious, as if she’s talking to the rowdy raccoon that moved into their dumpster three weeks ago instead of to her baby sister. “Let’s just take a breath and think about this for a m—”

Kara is already gone, the doors to the kitchen swinging closed behind her. Sliding into the cluttered space behind the counter, she crosses her arms and then drops her elbows on the bar, leaning what she belatedly realizes is probably a little too close to her adversary. She’s close enough to make out the individual downy hairs on her chin and the lines in her painted lips, which are still pursed thoughtfully in what Kara is sure would look like an attractive pout to someone who didn’t know any better.

But Kara knows so much better.

“Let me guess,” she remembers to get out, much less biting than originally intended. “Today you’ll be having the fifth entrée down the list.”

As soon as their eyes meet over the miniscule amount of space left between them, Kara knows leaning in was a fatal mistake. Her nemesis blinks up at her with wide, startled eyes that remind Kara of the glass pebbles she finds on the beach on her morning walks, not-quite-blue and not-quite-green, and for a moment Kara’s brain sputters out as if someone abruptly turned off the flames that kept it cooking.

But the woman recovers fast, like the scheming scoundrel that she is. She guiltily shutters her eyes behind thick, charcoal lashes, and Kara’s temper revives at the observation that her enemy isn’t as good of an actress as she thinks she is.

“I’ve actually been thinking of breaking my own rule,” she says, with a smile that lands somewhere between self-deprecating and apologetic. “I may give in and order the same thing you served me yesterday.” Kara goes hot all over with righteous indignation at the rich timbre of the woman’s voice, the almost flirtatious lilt it takes on when she adds, “I haven’t been able to stop dreaming about it.”

Kara pulls back a little in an effort to escape that curious gaze, the enticing scent of the woman’s perfume. It’s sweet enough to drown out even Alex’s mountain of onions. “I know what you’re doing,” she blusters.

The—frankly unfairly beautiful—soulless grifter stares at her, stricken. “I’m—I’m sorry?”

“You should be,” Kara says. “I know who you are.” And then, as if she’s putting down the last card in a game of Uno, “Lena.”

The woman goes very still for a moment, and then the corners of her lips tug down in a bitter semblance of a smile. “I see,” she says. She’s rigid, regal; she’s royalty perched on a wobbly wooden stool. “And am I to assume that’s enough for you to turn down my patronage?”

Kara’s resolve wobbles, too. She hadn’t expected her adversary—Lena, she now knows—to roll over so easily. “Well, yeah, obviously,” she flusters, her energy suddenly too large and lumbering in the face of Lena’s deference. “Winn and James are family.”

“Family.” There’s a flicker of wistfulness in Lena’s voice, before confusion colors her features. “So the cold shoulder,” she says. “It’s personal?”

Kara scoffs. The fraudster doesn’t even remember the names of her latest victims. Typical. “It was their steakhouse that you razed to the ground last month,” Kara reminds her.

Lena blinks at her. “The establishment just up the road?” She raises a critical eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure they set themselves up for failure when they decided to name their restaurant Misteak.”

Kara huffs. Her air quotes are appropriately vicious when she says, “They were doing just fine before your slanderous ‘review’ went viral.”

Lena does a remarkably convincing impression of someone who is genuinely flabbergasted. “I don’t even know what that means.”

“Liar.”

Lena’s shocked laughter is bright but brief. It’s the first time Kara has heard her laugh. It’s maddeningly attractive and deeply annoying.

“Okay,” Lena says. She folds her arms in front of her chest and leans back a little in her seat, unaware of its delicate disposition. A smirk tugs at one corner of her mouth. “Tell me,” she says, her eyes narrowing. “Who do you think I am, exactly?”

Kara leans in close again, refusing to allow Lena to get the upper hand. She’d like to wipe that smirk from Lena’s face—manually, if need be—preferably, even, if it means she’d get to smudge that infuriatingly immaculate lipstick with her thumb—

“You,” Kara charges, in an effort to drown out that unhelpful thought, “are a fraud. You call yourself a ‘mystery food critic’ on TikTok, but really you’re blackmailing businesses into buying a favorable review.”

“Hey, um.” Alex has followed her out of the kitchen, holding her phone. “So. Winn texted back, and he says—”

But Lena laughs again, her guarded posture melting down to unmistakable relief. “I’m so sorry,” she says, her voice a high warble. “That sounds awful. And also extremely illegal. Have you reported this person to the authorities? I can get you in touch with an excellent lawyer, if you’d like.”

Kara doesn’t know if she feels more outraged or confused.

…Or possibly some secret third thing.

“So you’re telling me—” Kara barks out a disbelieving laugh. “You’re saying you’re not her.”

“This, ehm— Tic Tac person?” When Lena’s dark lashes flutter, something in Kara’s chest flutters too. “No.”

Impossible. “Then why have you been in here every day this week?” Kara interrogates, the full force of evidence she’s collected behind it. “When neither one of us has seen you here even once, since we opened?”

Alex rolls her eyes. “I told you I wasn’t sure whether I’d seen her here before,” she points out. “Also, Winn says—”

“Oh please,” Kara scoffs, her eyes fixed on Lena, who has propped her elbows on the counter again, closer now than she’d been the last time their eyes met. “As if you could forget a woman as beautiful as—” Kara’s gaze drops to Lena’s mouth, unbidden, when Lena parts those rude, ruby lips. “...You.”

Alex stares.

Kara swallows.

Lena blinks; two times fast, and then again, after a beat, slow and sticky, her eyes darkening.

“So you may as well come out with it,” Kara croaks out what little remains of her anger. “There’s something you want more than our fettuccine.”

Lena’s cheeks have turned a treacherously charming shade of pink. “I suppose you’re right about that one, at least,” she admits after a beat.

In Kara’s peripheral vision, Alex frantically slides her hand across her throat. Kara frowns at her, telegraphing a wordless what is your problem but finding no satisfactory answer in the crimson shade her sister’s face has taken on.

“Yeah, well,” she says, almost disappointed, fumbling to fill the space left by Lena’s confession. “I’m telling you right now that it’s never going to happen.”

Alex clears her throat with startling force. “Winn wants to know,” she says, reading from her phone, “Who’s the hot chick?”

When Kara returns her gaze to the woman on the other side of the counter, she gulps. Lena is somehow even closer than she was before. She’s also fully propping herself up now on the laminate surface between them, granting Kara a glimpse of freckled cleavage that in no possible universe could be interpreted as unintentional.

“So,” Lena drawls. “What you’re saying is you’re not going to give me your number?”

Kara’s throat is suddenly very dry.

“Huh?” she manages, but only just barely.

“I was hoping,” Lena says slowly, that maddening smirk once again tugging up the corner of her mouth, “that you’d maybe like to—”

Lena shifts in her seat, crossing her legs in what is bound to become a devastatingly seductive pose, but the barstool decides in exactly that moment that's it’s finally had enough. Lena yelps as it gives out beneath her with a dramatic snap, one of its rickety limps flying across the floor as if celebrating its first taste of freedom, and Kara’s never considered herself to be very quick, but here she is anyway, on the other side of the counter in what feels like less than a second, one hand gripping Lena’s forearm, the other slipping smoothly around her waist.

“—fuck,” Lena gasps up at her. She feels good, in Kara’s hands, slight but pleasantly heavy, like the santoku knife Alex has forbidden Kara from touching ever again. “Well,” Lena says. “That’s. Perhaps not the way I would have phrased it, especially in front of your friend—”

They both glance over at Alex, but she’s disappeared, the swaying of the kitchen doors the only indication she was ever there.

“O-kay,” Kara says.

Lena grins. “Okay?”

Kara mentally rewinds the conversation and feels her ears burn at the realization of what she just agreed to. “I mean,” she amends. “We could, maybe, grab something to eat first?”

Something devious sparks in Lena’s terrifyingly gorgeous face. She glances down at Kara’s arms before blinking back up at her again and smirking. “I thought you already had.”

And, goodness gracious.

Kara is about to be in so much trouble.

#this prompt is exactly one hundred years old today but HEY LOOK a CLEAN 2000 WORDS #just. clearing the pipes #or whatever it is they say #supercorp fan fiction #supergirl fan fiction #ask meme #thanks for the prompt wilfriede!#i hope it's close enough!#lena luthor #kara danvers #fic by ekingston

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save-the-villainous-cat · 2 months

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So sidekick is like the protective younger sibling (or younger sibling figure) of hero and they find out their older sibling is having a thing with the villain so they go and confront the villain and is all like “you don’t deserve to date my big sibling you sick, nasty villain”

But then villain pulls out the reverse uno card and is all like “oh please as if i don’t know you’re secretly seeing my henchman at the club every Friday night 🤨” then sidekick is like “😦😦they’re your HENCHMAN?-“

“I swear, if you touch them—”

“Oh please, they beg me for it.” They took a sip of their drink and leaned back, satisfied by the entertainment the sidekick gave them.

They were a lot like the hero, the villain realised. An angrier and smaller version of their nemesis.

“Ugh. Ew. Argh— I mean it, if you hurt them, you’re done.” The sidekick raised their finger but the villain couldn’t help but smile.

“What are you gonna do? Uninvite me to your birthday party?”

“You—”

In a sense, it put the villain’s mind at ease. To know that someone was there who was just as worried, just as protective over the hero was comforting. The hero needed to be protected with all their hot-headedness and impulsive decisions.

They could get into a lot of trouble, into a lot of fights. The villain had seen the scars.

“Listen, kid. You’re worried. But I promise, I don’t have any ill intentions.” They tapped their fingers against their glass.

The villain couldn’t get their mind off the hero. It was an actual problem at this point. It was more than a crush, more than dating. The villain was so helplessly devoted they found themselves pathetic.

A few months prior, they would’ve loathed this. But it was easy to forget everything when the hero’s hand was on their arm. When their fingers intertwined. When the hero held onto them when they got scared.

“Sorry, but I don’t exactly trust a villain. Do you think I’m dumb?”

“No. You’re clever and that’s why you’re going to believe me,” the villain said. “If I wanted them dead, they would be. Instead, I am stitching them back together.”

“That’s my job.”

“It shouldn’t be. You’re a kid.”

“I’ve been taking care of them my entire life.”

The villain tilted their head, smiling sadly.

“And that’s rather sad, don’t you think? The amounts of blood you’ve seen, the variety of wounds someone can endure — no child should see something like that.”

This time, the sidekick didn’t say anything, they just stared at the villain’s desk rather angrily. It was frustrating, the villain was fully aware of that.

It must’ve been difficult for the sidekick to realise something was changing, that their role as a caretaker was shifting. It must’ve been difficult not to feel replaced.

“I know you don’t agree with my methods. Neither does my lover. But I can promise you to take care of them, whatever it takes. You don’t have to carry this burden anymore.”

“It’s not a burden,” the sidekick snapped and the villain realised that the sidekick could’ve become a villain easily. They were angry and didn’t know how to handle that anger. They were frustrated and didn’t know how to express it. If they had been around the wrong people at the wrong time, they would’ve made a perfect victim of manipulation.

The villain wasn’t going to let that happen.

“They talk about you all the time,” the villain said. “Brag about your grades and awards.”

The sidekick looked up, eyes wide.

“What?”

“Oh, yeah. You play the violin, don’t you? And you’ve been obsessed with this new video game, aren’t you?”

The sidekick nodded. Suddenly, they seemed a little embarrassed.

“But you also get into a lot of trouble at school. Can’t stand bullies?”

The sidekick shook their head.

“They couldn’t be more proud,” the villain said. For a second, all was quiet. The villain was reminded of a lost childhood, of tears and fear. Of feeling alone, of losing everything. “Listen. They love you more than anything and I cannot change that, even if I wanted to. And I don’t. I guess I am trying to say that there’s two people now who can protect them. Plus, they’re not completely helpless.”

Now, the sidekick smiled softly.

“They’re stupid, though.”

“Oh, totally,” the villain agreed.

“They need me.”

“You need them just as much. They can’t give you that when they’re exhausted and need stitches all the time.”

“…I guess you have a point.” The sidekick let out a big sigh and rubbed their face with their hands. And that was the moment the villain knew they had changed their mind. It wasn’t easy to let go of habits and the villain was fully aware that this wasn’t over, that the sidekick would try to slip back into their role every now and then.

But this was a great start. That kid needed more free time.

“I always do.” The villain grinned. “They’re in good hands, don’t worry. I’ll take over the bloody parts and the tears, you do the video games and laundry fights, alright?”

“Ugh. Fine. That doesn’t mean I like you,” the sidekick said. They stood up, false annoyance all over them.

“Mmm, don’t worry. That’ll kick in later. Now get lost, don’t you have a science project or something to take care of?”

“You’re so annoying.” They were heading for the door but the villain had one last sideswipe. They couldn’t help themselves.

“Oh, tell my henchman to do their work on time when you see them tomorrow, will you?” They tried not to smile when the sidekick turned around.

“Excuse me?” The villain stood up, walked around the table.

“Tomorrow at the club, I mean. I’ve heard you’re quite the wildcards together.”

“Hey, what do you mean, your henchman?”

“Just try not to devour each other in front of other people, I don’t want to hear anything about that.”

The villain gave them a smile and pushed them gently out of the room.

“Woah, wait, hey—”

“Bye bye.” They closed the door of their office with a cheery demeanour. They’d always been a sucker for a little drama.

pt. 2

#to carry home my little soldier #writing snippet #heroxvillain snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request #sidekick #sidekick x henchman

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girlgenius1111 · 2 months

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flipped

ingrid x mapi x reader smut 18+ mapi + r turn the tables on ingrid after a stressful week.

-------

If there was one thing that practically everyone knew about your relationship, it was that Ingrid had you and Mapi under her thumb. One word from her, and the two of you would abandon whatever ridiculous idea you were plotting, smile guiltily at her, and do as she said. It was assumed that this was how things went in… other aspects of your relationship.

That assumption would be correct.

You and Mapi did what Ingrid wanted. You fucked when she said you could. You came only when she allowed it. You took any punishment she decided on, though not without complaint. And while Mapi definitely had some power over you too, you were the true, definitive sub in the relationship. Most of the time spent with your girlfriends in a sexual way was either Mapi and Ingrid taking you to pieces together, or Ingrid taking you and Mapi to pieces herself.

What never occurred, though, was Ingrid allowing herself to submit to either of you. She liked to be in control; in her life, she so often felt such little control, that when she had the opportunity for it, she took it immediately. And normally, this was fine. Everyone’s needs were met, everyone got exactly what they wanted. For Ingrid, that was being in charge. For Mapi that was toeing the line between bossing you around, and listening to Ingrid. For you, that was doing whatever the 2 other women told you too.

Recently, though, you and Mapi got the feeling that although she would never admit it, Ingrid needed something different from you both. She was stressed, beyond belief. You were out with a concussion, which you were almost fully healed from, though the club was being cautious with you. Mapi was recovering well from knee surgery, already walking and back to normal, non football activities. Yet Ingrid continued to hover and do everything for the both of you like she’d done when you both first got hurt. It seemed like she was struggling with not being able to control your injuries, not being able to fix it and make it all better.

She was under so much pressure at work, putting so much pressure on herself at home, that it really was only a matter of time before she snapped. And, of course, this snap came in the form of a screaming match between her and Mapi. Mapi was generally grouchier because she couldn’t play, and she’d get into moods sometimes where it was just better to leave her alone, and let her work through it. She’d always come to the two of you later, apologize for her behavior, and allow you both to make her feel better. Ingrid knew this, but she wasn’t having the best day either, the team having an awful practice after a less than satisfactory win over the weekend. She was tired, and annoyed, and had absolutely no patience for Mapi’s attitude. This all very quickly dissolved into an argument. You all didn’t fight often. Mapi was a short tempered person, though, and recently, Ingrid was too, increasingly so.

You’d arrived home after both girls, having gotten lunch after training with some of your teammates. It was… eerily quiet when you walked into the house. No music playing, no show playing on the TV. You didn’t know where Ingrid was, but you could see Mapi’s head peeking over the edge of the lounge chair in the backyard. You headed that way, rather cautiously, confused as to what had caused such tension in the house while you were gone.

Mapi was still pissed, you could tell that the second you caught a look at her face. She was holding Bagheera on her lap like a Bond villain, and scowling at the sky above her.

“Hey.” You said quietly, sitting in the chair next to hers.

“Hi.” She grunted.

“What happened?” You asked.

“Ask your girlfriend.”

“I just did.” You reminded her, smiling a bit. Mapi shot you a glare, clearly not appreciating your attempt at humor. “What’s wrong?” you asked, a bit kinder this time.

“Ingrid is in a mood.” She complained. And so is María, you thought to yourself, knowing better than to say it out loud. You reached out, taking her hand in yours, glad when you saw her body visibly relax at the contact.

“What did you fight about?”

“I do not even remember. I came home and said I wanted to be alone and she just started shouting at me and I yelled back and then we both stormed off.” Mapi admitted.

“Maybe Ingrid didn’t want to be alone.” You suggested.

“Well, I did.” Mapi said shortly. You rolled your eyes.

“María, I love you very much, but sometimes I think you forget that Ingrid is just as emotional as you are, she just does a better job hiding it. She was probably upset, or stressed, and wanted you, and you probably blew her off because you were focused on being grumpy.”

“I am not grumpy,” Mapi began. You silenced her with a single raised eyebrow. Mapi groaned. “Fine, I will go apologize.”

“No, not yet. I’ll go talk to her. You can come in in 10 minutes, and then apologize.” You declared, ignoring Mapi’s frustrated huff in favor of kissing her forehead and walking directly back inside.

You found your other girlfriend in the bedroom. Well, you didn’t really find her. You found an Ingrid sized shape under the covers, and carefully crawled onto the bed next to it.

“Ingrid,” you called softly, only hearing a soft sniffle in response. This was your first clue that something was really wrong, more than just the fight. “Let me see you.” You insisted, pulling the covers off your girlfriend’s head. She was curled up into a miserable little ball, cheeks tearstained, a frown set on her lips.

“Hi.” She said stiffly.

“Do you want a hug?” You asked, opening your arms when Ingrid nodded, and practically threw herself at you. Her larger body landed on top of yours, and she settled her face against your shoulder. “Hey pretty girl.” You murmured, pushing some hair out of her face.

“Did you talk to María?” She asked quietly.

“Yes.”

“Is she upset with me?” Ingrid wondered. She sounded so unlike herself, so insecure and vulnerable.

“A bit, before. I talked to her though. She isn’t mad anymore.”

“She should be mad. I was horrible.” Ingrid sighed.

“I think we’re both just worried about you, baby.” You told her, still holding tight even when she tried to pull back a bit.

“I’m fine.” Ingrid replied in a monotone.

“I don’t believe that.”

“I do not either.” María spoke from the doorway. Ingrid stiffened against you, but Mapi was across the room in a flash, crawling onto the bed next to you both. “Ingrid,” she sighed, noticing when the brunette started to cry again.

“I’m sorry, María,” Ingrid sobbed, shifting off of you to push her face into Mapi’s sweatshirt.

“Hey, shh. Estás bien amor, todo está bien.” Mapi whispered, pulling both you and Ingrid in as close as you could get. “I am not mad, cariño. I am sorry I was so grouchy earlier, I should have made sure you were okay.”

“I’m just so stressed,” Ingrid said, so quietly it was clear she was reluctant to say anything at all. “I don’t remember what it’s like not to be stressed.”

You and Mapi exchanged a look, wondering if this was the right time to set your plan into action. The plan that you’d been discussing for days, with no clear way to get it started. This seemed like the right time. Ingrid needed this, even if she would never ask for it. Never know that she needed to ask for it. You and Mapi knew just how well it could work, though.

“You know what helps me when I’m stressed?” You asked quietly, wiping a few tears off Ingrid’s cheeks when she turned to look at you.

She cracked a faint smile. “I do. I don’t know that making you come until you can’t think would help me, though.”

She was joking, but looking between you and Mapi, she realized she was closer to what you were insinuating than she thought.

“No, but letting us help you might.” Mapi smiled.

Ingrid’s face was blank, but there was a flicker of interest behind her eyes.

“You both want to… me? You want to…” She trailed off.

“Fuck you? Yes, we do.” Mapi said easily.

“Very much.” You echoed.

Ingrid looked baffled, completely shocked. Neither of you had ever expressed interest in doing this before, until now. And it wasn’t that she didn’t want it, not really. It was just… scary. But she trusted you guys, and it was this that had her pulling you both a bit closer.

“Only if you want us to, Ingrid. If you don’t, we can just talk, just relax. Whatever you need.”

“I want it.” Ingrid said, though it was clear in her tone that she hadn’t given in, not completely. She still held both of you like she was in control, like she was in charge.

“Let me take care of you, bebita,” Mapi whispered, nuzzling her face into Ingrid’s neck and beginning to kiss at her skin. “Let us take care of you.”

Ingrid still looked unsure, though she tilted her neck slightly to allow Mapi easier access. Her eyes were fixed on you, vulnerable and desperate, when she responded. “I don’t know how to not…” she trailed off. What she meant was clear. She didn’t know how to not be in control.

“We’ll show you.” You promised. “We’re very good at it.”

“You are. I can show you,” she began, but you and Mapi both shook your heads simultaneously.

“No. You won’t show us anything. We’ll take care of you.” Mapi corrected.

It was the first real demand that either of you had made, and Ingrid reacted on instinct, grabbing Mapi’s neck in a way she normally loved, before she seemed to remember herself, and froze.

“Amor.” Mapi said, her eyes locked on Ingrids. You knew she was talking to you, though, and you knew exactly what she wanted. In the time it took you to get off the bed, grab the restraints from the drawer, and return to the bed, Mapi had Ingrid on her back, one of the defender’s hands holding the Norwegians wrists tightly above her head.

“Really, María, you are going to tie me up?” Ingrid asked sarcastically, clearly thinking that her perfect girl didn’t have it in her. Her body radiated defiance, and you knew then that this would be more difficult than you’d been anticipating. While Ingrid wanted to let go, had agreed to it, getting her to actually go against her instincts was always going to be difficult.

Mapi was quick to correct this defiance, though, her hand gripping Ingrid’s jaw as you began to tie the woman’s hands to the bedposts. “I will do what I want, and you will listen.”

Ingrid still didn’t look like she was taking her girlfriend very seriously, and she was shocked at the way Mapi suddenly yanked you closer. The Spaniard grabbed you by the back of the neck, pulling you towards her. You were both leaning over Ingrid’s extended legs, a fact that she was viscerally aware of.

When Mapi pressed her lips to yours, you could tell she wasn’t completely over her frustration from earlier, and that she was only putting it aside for the sake of the woman underneath you. You knew, too, that she would also benefit from taking control, and you let her completely take over the kiss. She tilted your head back to get a better angle, absolutely ravishing your lips, kissing them, biting at them, pushing her tongue into your mouth, until you were breathless just from her ministrations against you.

“Mapi, I want her,” Ingrid said lowly, both of you clearly able to feel her burning gaze. You pulled away slightly, as if to move down to the Norwegian, but Mapi shook her head, pulling you back in until her words were whispered against your mouth.

“Eres mía. No de ella.” Mapi told you.

“Yours,” you agreed easily, returning Mapi’s soft grin

“María,” Ingrid complained, now fighting the restraints on her hand, clearly very unhappy with being ignored.

“Tan impaciente.” Mapi rolled her eyes, but leaned back, pushing you down towards the apex of Ingrid’s thighs. “Come.”

Eagerly, you pulled Ingrid’s shorts and underwear down, tossing them without regard off the bed, before you buried your face in between her legs.

“Yes, there,” Ingrid sighed, relaxing slightly back into the bed as you licked at her. You knew what Ingrid liked, and you knew what Mapi wanted from you. To build her up fast, and pull away, just as fast. You supposed the Spaniard was somewhere near the bed, getting the strap on, but you were much too focused on the task at hand to think about anything else other than the taste of Ingrid on your tongue, and the way her wet heat dripped for you.

You focused on her clit, gently taking it into your mouth and suckling, before returning to broad strokes over her entrance. You added two fingers, her walls stretching easily to accommodate. It was only when she tensed under you that you opened your eyes, glancing upwards to see Mapi kneeled by the Norwegian’s head.

“Open bebita,” Mapi told her. Ingrid looked frustrated to say the least, but allowed Mapi to press the strap into her open mouth. “Que buena,”

The praise evidently did something to Ingrid, because as you returned to focus on her core, you could hear the wet smacks and light gags as she took Mapi’s length into her mouth.

“So pretty with my cock in your mouth, sí?”

Mapi’s words only turned Ingrid on more, and she only grew wetter as you continued to work her up. You focused your mouth up to her clit, flicking your tongue over it rapidly, fucking your fingers into her hard, using your free hand to hold Ingrid’s hips down against the mattress.

“Fuck, I’m close,” she mumbled, releasing Mapi’s cock with a loud intake of air. And although you were slightly shocked by how fast this had happened, Mapi didn’t seem to be. The Spaniard seemed to know exactly what she needed to do to get Ingrid where she wanted her.

Ingrid let out a groan from deep in her throat, and you heard Mapi shush her lightly. You could visualize what the Norwegian looked like, saliva smeared across her face, Mapi’s hand laced through her hair, and it only encouraged you.

You didn’t forget what you and Mapi had discussed, though, nor did the consequences of disobeying slip your mind. So, as Ingrid’s hips jerked against you, and you could feel her muscles begin to tighten, you pulled away, grinning down at her.

“No no no NO, elskling come back here. Now!” Ingrid whined, her eyes flying open as she glared up at you, a warning clearly evident on her face. And even though it went against all of your instincts, you looked away from her, towards Mapi, a shy smile on your face. She met your look with a grin, before refocusing her attention back on Ingrid.

“Do not complain, cariño, we are just getting started.” She warned quietly, before she guided herself back towards the Norwegian’s mouth. Ingrid wisely chose to remain silent, looking up at her girlfriend with lust in her eyes as Mapi began to fuck into her mouth.

The Spaniard pushed in far, shushing Ingrid quietly when she whined in complaint and squirmed slightly. “Just take it, bebita, be good for me.”

At this, Ingrid began to bob her head back and forth as well as she could, a new look in her eyes as she let Mapi fuck her face. You were rather worked up from watching up until this point, and you took your opportunity when Mapi threw her head back, grunting softly as Ingrid’s throat put pressure on the strap, and by extension, on her own center.

What little Ingrid had appeared to submit up until this point disappeared instantly when you pushed her leg to bend slightly and straddled her thigh. Ingrid loved nothing more than to watch you get yourself off on her, especially when she could tell you when to stop and wait, and when to make yourself come. This wasn’t one of those times, though, as she was quickly reminded when Mapi pulled her attention away from you and the slow grind of your hips against her leg.

“Is she distracting you? Do you want to watch?” Mapi asked, feigning softness, though Ingrid didn’t seem to pick up on that.

“Yes, want to watch her,” Ingrid replied breathlessly, her jaw aching slightly from the position it had been in.

“You heard her, mi niña. Give our girl a show.” Mapi slid down to lay next to Ingrid, beginning to work marks into her neck. Ingrid was almost unaware, her attention completely captivated by you on top of her, steadily working yourself towards an orgasm. Her legs were muscular, and you’d found the perfect spot to rut again, the friction causing you to speed up, and causing slightly breathless gasps to leave your mouth.

It was an unusual sight for the brunette, though, to see you so lost in your own pleasure, taking what you needed without looking to Ingrid for some direction. It wasn’t entirely welcome, and your girlfriend felt the need for the control rushing back into her body. She tensed under you, and under Mapi, pulling at the restraints her hands were in.

You were getting closer and closer, rocking yourself back and forth against Ingrid’s thigh, showing no signs of stopping. Mapi didn’t seem to be interested in stopping you either, her attention completely focused on Ingrid’s neck. The Norwegian tugged at her restraints once more, before she spoke up.

“Elskling, not yet” she instructed, frowning when you completely ignored her. She wanted you on her mouth, or riding her fingers. She wanted to directly make you come, when she wanted you to, and not a second sooner. She needed the control, she thought, ached for it.

It was submission that she really needed, though, you and Mapi were both sure. Even more sure now, having seen how her body relaxed at Mapi’s possessive and bossy words, and tensed when she tried to regain control.

“Shit, María, can I?” You asked, directing the question towards the Spaniard.

“No.” Ingrid replied, at the same time as Mapi gave a resounding ‘yes.’

“Relax, mi amor. Let her make a mess on you.” Mapi whispered, her words a warm breath on Ingrid’s neck. “Do you feel how wet she is? I can see it from here.”

“Fuck, Ingrid, you feel so good,” you cried, your head dropping forward until your hair hid your face, your hands bracing yourself on Ingrid’s muscular abdomen.

“She is going to come on your leg, Ingrid, and you are going to let her.”

“I want to taste her,” Ingrid whined, using a tone of voice you were sure you’d never heard from her before.

“No.” Mapi told her simply, pulling away from Ingrid to watch as you fell over the edge, your body spasming against Ingrid, low whines falling from your lips.

And as you collapsed onto Ingrid, so did something in the Norwegian. When she looked at your other girlfriend, it was with a completely new expression on her face.

“María, please fuck me,” Ingrid whispered, “I’m dripping for you, baby, please. I need your cock,”

Mapi bit back a smile at Ingrid’s filthy words, knowing she had the younger woman just where she wanted her. For the moment, though, she ignored Ingrid’s begging, tilting your head from where it was resting against Ingrid’s chest so the Spaniard could meet your eyes.

“You did so well, mi niña,” Mapi cooed, rubbing her thumb softly over your cheek bone. You smiled lazily up at her, feeling Ingrid squirm unhappily under you.

“María,”

“Shh, cariño, be patient.” Mapi replied condescendingly, her eyes not flicking up to Ingrid’s. “Do you want a reward, mi amor?”

“Sí, por favor,” you replied almost breathlessly, looking up at María as if she was the only other person on earth. Ingrid felt something she wasn’t used to feeling. Jealousy. She wanted both of your guys’ attention on her, craved it deep within her. It was so unfamiliar, it was almost uncomfortable, and she let out a quiet whine almost accidentally, her body jerking up into yours.

“Ingrid,” Mapi scolded lightly, finally turning her gaze on the midfielder. “You have to be patient.” She was enjoying this, the almost alternate universe that she found herself in. Ingrid begging her was something that never happened, and Mapi relished it.

She reached over to the bedside table, grabbing the small vibrator she’d set out a few minutes prior. With both of you watching, she slipped it inside of herself, holding the remote in her hand as she pushed the harness back in place.

“I will give you my cock. If you make our girl come before I do, then it can be your turn to come, vale?” Mapi rasped, lips lifting into a slight smile at the determined glint that lit up Ingrid’s eyes.

Nothing else needed to be said, enough talking having been done for the moment. You maneuvered yourself up Ingrid’s body, turning around so you were facing Mapi, and hovering over Ingrid’s mouth. She strained her neck up, trying to reach your soaking pussy, while you stayed just out of reach.

It was only when you saw Mapi click the vibrator on, and saw Ingrid’s eyes flutter shut as the Spaniard pressed into her, that you lowered yourself down.

Ingrid had very clearly taken Mapi’s challenge to heart, because even as she gasped and groaned against you, she was clearly working hard to work you up fast. And it was working. It was just that Mapi remained pretty much untouched up until this point, and her sensitivity exceeded yours.

The motion of fucking one of you always got her, too. The grind of her hips, watching the strap disappear into Ingrid’s cunt, the feeling of the harness pressing against her just right. It was all so perfect.

So while Ingrid fucked her tongue into your clenching pussy, her nose brushing against your clit, Mapi fucked Ingrid languidly, slowly, casually, all the while the vibrator inside of her was pushing her closer and closer. It wasn’t enough to get Ingrid very close, but you and Mapi were right on the edge.

Ingrid fucked her tongue into you frantically, able to tell from the way you grinded down on her face that you were close. You were fighting it, though, your eyes on Mapi, willing yourself to let her beat you, like you’d discussed.

It was hard, made harder by the sight of Mapi with her head thrown back, small groans leaving her mouth, one of her hands toying with her nipple. You held strong, though, holding back until you were almost in tears, until moan after moan tumbled from behind your lips.

Ingrid was furious under you, feeling your muscles clench around her, knowing exactly what you were attempting to do.

Mapi grew more vocal, though, and you reached out, squeezing tightly to her hand as the Spaniard came.

“Sí, sí amor,” Mapi cried, and with that, you let yourself go, a tidal wave of pleasure washing over you. It wasn’t a particularly strong orgasm for Mapi, which was lucky, because she was able to catch you as you pitched forward into her arms, shying away from Ingrid’s punishing and overstimulating touch.

“Ingrid, your mouth, jesus,” you whined, feeling Mapi’s chest shake under you with silent laughter.

“Neither of you are playing fair.” You heard Ingrid complain. Mapi eased you down onto the bed next to the Norwegian, and you forced your eyes open to take in the sight of the woman next to you.

Ingrid’s face was flushed, covered in your wetness, her dark eyes glaring up at Mapi, who only smiled down at her, situating herself in between the Norwegian’s legs. She released Ingrid’s hands from the restraints, but pressed them into the pillow above the brunette’s head, making it clear what she wanted.

“Neither of us agreed to play fair, mi amor.”

Without further warning, Mapi pressed herself deep inside of Ingrid, bottoming out in one smooth stroke.

“Fucking-María,” Ingrid cried, her eyes slamming shut at the sudden influx of pleasure.

“Do I feel good, niña bonita?” Mapi asked, her hips beginning an unforgiving pace as she fucked into Ingrid.

“Yes, so good,” Ingrid gasped. Her hand blindly reached for yours, and you grabbed it easily, very happy to watch as Mapi took her to pieces next to you.

“Do you want to come?” Mapi asked breathlessly, although the answer was rather obvious. Her eyes were fixed on Ingrid under her, not wanting to miss a single second of the normally so strong willed woman pleading for her.

“Yes, Mapi, you know I do.” Ingrid replied, somehow managing to sound annoyed and incredibly turned on at the same time.

“Beg.” Mapi instructed, her hand coming to rest over Ingrid’s throat, her fingers pressing in lightly, just enough that Ingrid felt it, and just enough that her head fell back, and her body quivered under the Spaniard’s. She readjusted her legs, giving her a better position, and began to jackhammer into Ingrid, knowing precisely where to press her cock.

Ingrid forced her eyes open, staring up at her girlfriend, as if trying to tell if she was being serious. She could hardly think, not with the way Mapi was fucking her. And when you began to brush your fingers through her hair, cooing sweet words into her ear, she knew she was done for.

“I can’t take any more, María, please, I need you, please let me come, I’ll do anything,” Ingrid whined, her words broken up by moans and stuttering breaths.

“Good girl,” Mapi promised, making sure the words were spoken in English, so they had the full effect. With that, Ingrid came, hard. Harder than you’d potentially ever seen her come, until her body was writhing against the mattress, her mouth open in a silent cry.

Mapi worked her through it, as you pressed kiss after kiss to the side of Ingrid’s face, pulling her easily into you when Mapi finally pulled out.

Ingrid’s body shook against you, quiet whimpers leaving her mouth as she finally got the release she didn’t know she needed. As she finally let go of all the stress she’d been hanging on to.

Rather hastily, Mapi tore the strap off of herself, the vibrator removed carelessly, both items tossed off the side of the bed. The Spaniard pressed her bare body up against Ingrid’s back, so that the taller woman was squished comfortably in between the both of you.

Ingrid seemed to be at a loss for words, only able to hold on tight to you, and tangle one of her trembling legs with Mapi’s.

“You were so good for me, amor,” Mapi whispered, “so pretty for us.”

Ingrid let out a deep breath, relaxing even more into your body. You kissed the side of her head easily, tangling your finger’s with Mapi’s where they rested over Ingrid’s body.

“Thank you,” Ingrid mumbled, her face still hidden away in the crook of your neck.

“Do you feel better?” You asked, running your fingers through her hair.

“Better. So good.” Ingrid sighed, still clearly a little fucked out.

Mapi chuckled behind her. “Good, mi amor. Rest now, okay? We can talk later.”

And with the promise of a conversation, as was necessary in any healthy relationship, Ingrid let herself drift away for a bit, her body completely devoid of stress for the first time in weeks.

-----

i admittedly did not proofread this

thinking a second part [who is shocked! who!!!!] where the trio have a conversation about taking care of ingrid, and mapi and r spoil their girl. fluff and a little bit of angst vibes. it that appealing? or should i leave it here? can't decide <3

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso fanfics #ingrid engen x mapí leon #ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon x ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon x reader

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