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#life is short fuck a villain!
this-should-do · 10 months
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ugh
#genuinely think if i dont get therapy and medical transition soon i might actually kill myself#life is too fucking much and i cant take this shit anymore#its unfair that i got unlucky in the genetic draw and got sruck with the stupidest most feminine body in the world#and that being fat when i live the exact same lifestyle as thin people makes kt easier to tell that im born female#and that even if i do all the working out in the world its not gonan fucking chnage the way my body looks and manages its distribution#and that i have the face and mouth of every single fat comedy side character or fat villain#and that ive lived my whole life hearing about how pretty and wonderful i look and how i look like my grandmother#and that im short and have almost all my weight below my torso so i look like the worlds largest pear#and that i have a naturally soft demeanor that offsets every ounce of effort i pht into my looks to be more masc#and that i dont want to dress in baggy or sporty clothes and i dont have the budget to purchase those things even if i got desperate#or that i get overheated too easily to use layers and that i cant mentally handle being overheated#and its not fair that i cant for the life of me get my voice to cknsistantly be lower so i sound more maaculine#its not fucking fair#i cant fucking do this anymore#but im so fucking stuck reliant on ym fucking parents for mo ey that ill never get the help i need#and working as a teacher will never result in the money itll take to get the help i need#and it feels like even if i could get transition when i get a job itll be too risky with clowns like desantis#SPECIALLY as a teacher#i cant fucking look into a fucking mirror without wanting to cry and take a knife to every slab of meat that i ditn want on my body#and every day that im home im sruck hiding in my room so that i dont risk running inti my moyher and making her angry by existing#and having to affirm to her that im her little girl and be called by a name that isnt mine and pronouns that make me want to stab my ears#and be told by her that i just think im trans becuz im traumatized and dont want peole to think im attractive so they wont try to get close#to me becuz they wont know what i am when i dont even want to have sex and she says im just making that up to#my mental health is in shambles and has been for fucking months and its only getting worse#i want out#i want out so fucking bad#im tired of being jealous of my own fucking shadow becuz it looks like more of a man to me
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swiss-army-fangirl · 1 year
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shoechoe · 2 years
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I am thinking about this one time when I saw a person refer to Funny Valentine as a "worse Enrico Pucci". I hadn't finished Steel Ball Run at the time, but now that I've finished it, I have to say that I... don't get it. You could draw some similarities between the two of them, but overall they're pretty different characters.
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singmyaubade · 4 months
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Shades Of Cool
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toxic!dark!rafe cameron x female!pogue!reader
summary: you are just living your life, completely normal and free. but, what happens when rafe cameron decides that you are his? he's danger.
warnings: smut! 18+ stalking, manipulation, rafe is obsessed with reader, fingering, swearing, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, praise, oral (male receiving), dark!rafe cameron, choking, jealousy, violence, heavy smut..
a/n: i'm delighted I'm finally starting this, even if it took me so long. i genuinely hope you all enjoy this series. i understand that this a bit short, but the narrative is only getting started, so things will only get wilder! however, it is to be expected—this is a rafe cameron fic.
series
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One thing that you hated about Outer Banks was how the heat still radiated at night, causing excessive amounts of water to be drank and a great amount of fans that blew hot air into your face.
It only made everyone irritable and only caused more arguments like now,
"I swear to god JJ, I am about to fucking murder you if you say another word," You hissed, giving him a glare as he mockingly grew scared.
"I agree," Cleo said before falling back into her nap.
"All I'm saying is that we have been moping around here for hours meanwhile we could be partying on the fresh beach and cool water," JJ replied, using his hands to represent the scenery to all of you.
"I'm going to have to agree with Y/N," Pope said, turning his head to JJ, "I'm already in tough shit with my parents for when you knocked over my great-grandmothers vase," Pope glared.
JJ put his hands up in defense, "I told you tequila makes me clumsy,"
"Besides every single Kook is there, including Rafe and if he sees Sarah with us, it will only bring another fight and you are not going back to jail," Kie warned, still closing her eyes while the fan blew the air in her face, blowing her hair.
"When have we ever been scared of Rafe?" JJ asked.
"When he gave me a full smackdown for doing my job," Pope scoffed.
"And when he almost drowned me," Sarah chimed in from across the room where she was laying on John B's legs on the carpet floor.
"And when he shot Sheriff Peterkin in front of us," John B added.
"And when-" Pope began.
"Okay that's enough," He said as you giggled, turning your head back to the fan.
You didn't know much about Rafe Cameron since you had moved to Outer Banks only last year and you had met the "star Pogues" a few months ago.
You had never really seen Rafe's face ever, only heard of him honestly.
But you didn't know if it was a bad thing.
All you had heard about was how evil and villainous he was which caused some places to be off limits for the fact that the boys couldn't handle another beat down with the Kooks and there was a greater matter at hand.
But still, you always were curious about "evil" Rafe Cameron.
"You guys are no fun," JJ pouted, sitting beside you on the couch.
You patted the lower part of his leg, "Poor baby," You sarcastically said to which moved his leg swiftly causing you to laugh.
Suddenly the lights and fans turned off as you all except for JJ groaned, knowing that meant the electricity was off you and you would have to deal with the heat and darkness.
Which meant the only choice was the beach party,
JJ cheered, "I win!"
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You crossed your arms as you walked on the warm sand, lots of cheering and loud music around you. You could see the Kooks and the Pogues in their own groups, not daring to interact with eachother.
It was hard to get used to the fact that there were two groups of people based on economic statuses and that it meant that if you were one thing, the other one hated you.
You had never been to a place like that but you just kinda got used to it.
Yet you still could never tell which group was really which sometimes.
You were forced to walk around by yourself as John B and Sarah wandered off to a quiet spot while JJ started drinking with Kie as his babysitter and Cleo and Pope wandered around.
All of it sounded like a lot of third wheeling which made you stay away.
But you didn't mind being alone, you liked listening to the waves and watching the festivities that went along with a party.
And you knew that a beer would help you get more into the party festivities.
You walked over the keg where a man with a shaved head and a matching tank top and shorts poured himself a beer as you curiously looked at him.
You had to admit that he was one of the most attractive men you had seen before.
His lips were a perfect shade of pink and they were smooth like sucking on a cherry. His veins were bulging from his hands and you could see the peach fuzz on his jawline that you could only really see upclose.
You snapped out of your analysis as he looked at you as you waited there awkwardly, forming a smile on your face.
"Sorry to creepily stand here, I'm just trying to get a uh-" You said, pointing to the keg.
His face studied you for a second, almost as if he was trying to figure you out. You could tell by his face that he had never seen you before and he looked as if he was trying to figure out if you were a Kook or Pogue.
He chuckled, "Didn't mean to take so long, I wouldn't have if I had seen your pretty face sooner," He smirked, looking you up and down, causing you to blush.
You felt stupid for blushing over something that a man probably said to every pretty girl he saw but you felt something different about him.
You were taken aback by his boldness, "Do you say that to every women that waits for her turn on the keg?" You teased.
"Only the pretty ones," He replied, causing you to laugh.
"Smooth talker I see," You smiled.
"Always," He joked, "I swear I've never seen you around and usually, you know everyone in Outer Banks," He probed.
"Yeah, I just moved here last year," You answered, "I haven't made my rounds yet,"
"Figured," He said, "I would've definitely noticed you,"
"Pfft," You beamed, "I'm sure you would've walked past me on the beach, there are many beautiful girls here,"
"Nah," He laughed, looking off, "You are different from them,"
"How could you already assume that?" You asked, curiosity biting at you.
"For one, you aren't stuck up and preppy which is most the girls on this island," He grinned as you giggled.
"Ay, they aren't all like that," You replied.
"Most of 'em," He added, "But I don't pay much attention to them,"
"Figures," You said, eyebrow raising.
He saw your eyes move the keg and his cup before he offered his cup forward.
"Might as well take mine, I wouldn't feel proud of myself if I let you pour one yourself," He winked.
Great attempt at being a gentlemen.
"No no, I got it," You said before he shook his head.
"I insist" He said, his thumb grazing yours.
"Thank you," You smiled, "I'm Y/N" You introduced, taking the cup from him while extending your other hand for him to shake.
He shook your hand, "I'm Rafe," He replied with a smile as yours slowly fell.
The Rafe? The Rafe you were basically supposed to never interact with and who was the supposed devil? That Rafe?
"Rafe Cameron?" You asked, standing frozen.
"Guess my reputation precedes me," He joked as you didn't laugh but instead cleared your throat.
You took your hand back quickly, "Oh, i-it's nice to meet you," You cleared your throat, "My friends are waiting so I'm gonna-"
He clearly figured you out, "Pogue, I'm guessing?" He snickered.
Your face wrinkled, "Is that supposed to be a funny thing?"
"Hilarious actually," He answered, only angering you more.
"I don't see what's funny about that?" You crossed your arms with ur drink resting in your hand.
He wiped his jaw, "Must be tough at the bottom of the food chain,"
Your nose flared, "Must be tough being an elite asshole,"
He laughed, "I just think it's an unfortunate cause, I mean it's just unlucky," He smirked.
Asshole.
"Unlucky?" Your lip pursed, " I think what's more unlucky is thinking that your cool for a fucked up economic status that has been perpetuated on an island,"
"I just don't believe your friends belong on Outer Banks," He said, not a hint of hesitance in his voice.
He really believed in this bullshit.
"I mean you would really rather hang out with a group of dirty Pogues?" He snickered, looking off.
"Well I am one of them and they are my friends," You scoffed, "You seem more dirty than us," You insulted.
"Is that so?" Rafe mocked.
"Do you wanna talk about your father's dirty money?" You asked.
"I would watch that pretty mouth," He replied, inching closer.
"Or what?" You hummed, acting braver than you usually would.
"Fuck around and find out sweetheart," He came closer, breath fawning on your face.
The whiskey on his breath kissed your nose but not breaking your eye contact with him as you inched closer, eyes on his lips.
As he tried to close the gap, you threw the drink in his face. "Oohs" and snickers filled around the both of you as you stomped away from him.
He smirked, wiping the alcohol off of his face.
'What an asshole,' You thought,
Little did you know that Rafe only grew to like you more.
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You found JJ and Kie sitting by the beach together as she laid her head on his shoulder. You were thinking about interrupting them but tarnish their moment, you choosing instead to call it a night and also you didn't feel like trying to find the rest of the group.
You were glad that you knew yourself enough to drive to the party considering that you got tired fast. You couldn't really see in the parking lot due to how dark it was and away from the lights.
You digged in your back pocket for your phone to pull out of the flashlight as you reached for your keys but dropped them instead in the process.
You audibly groaned as you searched on the floor in the darkness for the keys. You went on your knees with your flashing light, searching on the ground as you heard footsteps behind you, darting your flashlight behind you but seeing nothing.
You had a bad feeling but you thought it was paranoia because you were alone in the parking lot and maybe a little due to the interaction you had earlier with Rafe.
You couldn't stop thinking about how he came off as nice but switched so quickly into an elitist piece of shit.
Sounds like how they described him.
But still, there was a pit in your stomach that felt like butterflies when he grazed your thumb.
You sighed, pushing the thoughts out as you finally grabbed your keys, using the concrete-sanded floor push yourself back up off the ground.
Suddenly, you felt a cloth on your mouth and a hand covering your waist as your muffled screams filled the parking lot, trying to kick your attacker behind you.
You felt yourself drifting into the darkness as you screamed one last time,
And everything went black.
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tags: @hysteriahall @avengersassemblee @lighttism @whereismymindnow @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @vi06ma01 @haven247 @vanessa-rafesgirl @blvebanisters @riordanness @aleidag1rly @muzanjackson22
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stealingyourbones · 6 months
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Short DPXDC Prompts #961
Jimmy’s old Roommate moved out due to the constant break ins from villains to capture Jimmy and the scares of seeing fucking SUPERMAN hovering outside his apartment window waiting to speak to Jimmy. Hopefully his new roommate will acclimate better than his previous one to the craziness of his life. He’s looking at the clock waiting for it to hit 2:43 pm. Dash Baxter said he’d start moving in at 2. He’s late.
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anonymouscheeses · 3 months
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Even more and more of obvious shit I point out because I want an excuse to rant while not interacting with actual people in real life who also like this show because I'm masking 😍💜💜
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BARELY STARTED AND BRO. YOU JUST LET HER DO THAT TO YOU, ME PERSONALLY-
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HE'S PETTING KEE-KEE I LOVE HIM SMM
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HER HOOVES. I LOVE IT. NOT LIKE THAT, IM JUST A FURRY-
*grabs pen*
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ANGRY CHARLIE FOR THE WIN. I LOVE WHEN THE HAPPY CHARACTER GETS ANGSTY (Cough. Luz. Cough).
The people writing fanfics where she gets FURIOUS. Omg. That was something I read. I LOVE MY FELLOW FANFIC WRITERS BUT OH MY- YALL REALLY HAD CHARLIE M A D.
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"Uh-"
I love his reaction lmao look at his goofy face.
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HER BOW BECAME HORNS (my "redesign" is now 100% worse)
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SAD VAGGIE. THE BOW. DROOPY.
Oh and the angel dust fellow back there 🤯
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I LOVE ROSIE SO MUCH HUH
Tall.
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No explanation needed. <3
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PLEASE HELP???
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CUTIE PATOOTIE. I LOVE HER SM UGGHHH
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CHARLIE HATES OLD PEOPLE COMFIRMED YAY 😍😍💅💅
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Hot
That's it.
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IN SYNC. I LOVE THIS SONG AND THE ENTIRE SCENE. WHY IS IT RANKED SO LOW WITH SOME OF YALL?? Okay well-
I thought this song was gonna be a Charlie and Vaggie duet- tbh I still preferred that BUT I LOVE CARMILLA SO I KINDA DONT CARE.
BUT I WAS ROBBED OF AN ACTUAL FULL CHAGGIE DUET (REPRISE DOESNT COUNT) IF H*SKERDUST GETS A FULL ONE WHY CAN'T CHAGGIE? *SOB* uhh anyway-
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Is that. Like. How she thinks actually 😰
I know there's been a lot of the lack of Vaggie's self-worth, which I wish was explored into more. I just think the Vaggie(3rd) episode just wasn't needed at all if it didn't even have an impact. Don't get me started on that episode, it was rushed, too early to have character arcs already, and overall not needed or even should have existed periodt.
I hope they explore it next season because GOD this woman needs TO LOVE HERSELF. OR ATLEAST CARE ABOUT HERSELF LIKE????
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SWEET MAMA PLEASE. TAKE ME IN YOUR WINGS AAAAAAAAA
Charlie, sharing is caring <3
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Out of all the people I thought Charlie would vent to I didn't think it would be ROSIE. It's a nice surprise tho I love her <3
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bisexuality.
That's it.
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HE'S DANCING. ALASTOR IS DANCING. THEY ARE SLAYING BESTIES. THE MAN IS DANCING. HELP.
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Season 2 is going to be Charlie in her villain era and Alastor's reputation era 😍
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I LOVE VAGGIE'S FACE. PRECIOUS BABY UGHH... THEN THE WINGS REPLACE THE BOW AND DROOP UGGHH I HOPE IN SEASON 2 WE SEE MORE OF HER WINGS. OR CUT HER HAIR SHORT SO WE CAN HAVE IT ALL THE TIME. Also so Husk and Vaggie can bond over both having wings. Sorry I love their potential friendship so much. AND LUCIFER AND VAGGIE TOO!! BOTH BEING FALLEN ANGELS OMG. UGH THE POTENTIAL OF VAGGIE'S RELATIONSHIPS WITH NOT JUST CHARLIE ARE SO GOOD AND I HAVE BEEN ROBBED OF SEEING HER AS AN ACTUALLY MORE FLESHED OUT CHARACTER. I AM SCREAMING AAAAAAAA.
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I can't say how much I love them. It's too much. I cant- yay the teaser image before the show came out <3 they are so fucking adorable. UGH SOME1 END ME
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Charlie loves the wings hehehe. Vaggie looks nervous about it. It's probably a reminder to her about when she used to be an exterminator. The healing from everything will take a long time but hopefully Charlie will be there for her the entire time. And vice versa
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Ayo- 😰
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CHARLIE. T H E PRECIOUS BABY.
Uh next one tomorrow cuz yeah 🤯
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girlgenius1111 · 7 days
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flipped
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ingrid x mapi x reader smut 18+ mapi + r turn the tables on ingrid after a stressful week.
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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
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therainscene · 1 year
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It’s blink-and-you’ll-miss-it, but the Alan Turing poster really tells us so much about Will that I consider it to be a significant piece of foreshadowing for S5.
First, let’s dissuade ourselves of the notion that Will chose Turing for his hero project for nerd reasons -- Will’s preferred flavour of nerdery is escapist fantasy, not computer science. He doesn’t know what an IP address is and the first thing he thinks of when he hears modem noises is a movie he likes.
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No, he chose Turing because he admires him for being a gay man who accomplished so much in his short life.
On one hand, that’s pretty heart-warming -- the fact he’s willing to identify with other gay men and look up to them as role models shows us he’s making good progress in accepting his identity. On the other hand, it’s heart-breaking, because Turing’s story is not a happy one -- he was caught having a sexual relationship with a man and forced to choose between jail or chemical castration. He chose castration.
I remind you: Will identifies with this guy.
Will is growing up under the twin specters of AIDS and homophobia and likely assumes he’s destined to die young too. He’s been abused and bullied so much, I imagine he’s heard and internalized it all: that he deserves to die, that he’s disgusting, that he’ll never be fulfilled in life.
So when puberty begins crawling its way inside him and implants those shameful desires that make gay men so worthy of abuse... he chooses castration.
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For all the sad pining he does in S4, we never really see Will express desire for Mike -- he never checks him out or shows signs of nervousness when they touch. He behaves with perfect platonic decorum at all times...
...unless we consider That One Scene With The Hose.
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Sexual interpretations of this scene are controversial, and I can understand why; we’re so used to seeing Will as this innocent, immature little boy that it's shocking to catch him fantasizing so lustfully, even though these sorts of thoughts are pretty normal for a 15 year-old. But I think that’s the point. We’re supposed to feel uncomfortable about this, because Will feels uncomfortable about it too.
He’s done well in accepting his identity, but he’s an absolute repressed mess when it comes to accepting his sexuality.
So, that’s what the Turing poster tells us about Will. Here’s where the foreshadowing comes in: Will is not the only queer-coded character to have been metaphorically castrated.
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Henry’s experience bears striking similarities to Turing’s: he too was caught engaging in a natural but forbidden behaviour and forced by his government to undergo a medical procedure to suppress that behaviour.
His villain speech to El in 4x07, which is ostensibly about his powers, also reads very strongly as a scathing criticism of heteronormativity, and it’s covered in rainbow motifs.
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The metaphor here is obvious: Henry’s powers are a manifestation of his homosexuality.
Which implies that Will’s homosexuality can also manifest as powers. They’re repressed because he’s repressed.
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It’s not a coincidence that the sexual tension was through the fucking roof in the infamous sauna scene. Every time Will’s supernatural ability to sense the Mind Flayer triggers in S3, Mike is also nearby.
What’s interesting about Mike is that his queer acceptance issues mirror Will’s: Mike has a healthy relationship with his sexuality (he casually checks guys out and plasters his bedroom walls with posters of buff dudes) but he just can’t bring himself to accept what this implies about his identity.
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Always with the symmetry, these two. They complement each other perfectly; one’s hang-up is the other’s strength. They have a lot to teach each other about being queer.
And as repressed as they are, I think they want to learn from each other -- Will lets himself get flustered when Mike flirts with him in his bedroom, and Mike hangs on to every word of wisdom Will shares with him in their heart-to-hearts.
Internalized homophobia is a powerful force, but their bond is so strong that it empowers them to fight back.
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Henry’s powers symbolize his anger at being mistreated and his desire to take that anger out on the world... but Will’s powers symbolize self-acceptance and love.
So he isn’t just going to defeat Vecna with his powers, and he isn’t just going to get the boy: these two things are one and the same.
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lorcandidlucienwill · 5 months
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The most disturbing things portrayed in ACOTAR
Victim-blaming: Lucien tries to help Feyre and gets physically abused by Tamlin as a result. Feyre then proceeds to call him a dog despite Lucien doing everything he could in a difficult situation. And we're supposed to...support Feyre on this? And Rhysand throws around words like "can never forgive" man stfu you prick.
Sexual Assault: The most disturbing thing is not that Rhysand sexually assaulted Feyre. It's that he's never held accountable for this and never even apologizes at ANY point in the series. There are so many examples but this is the one that is the most disturbing.
Double Standards: We have Tamlin locking Feyre up for her own good being vilified, yet Rhysand is championed for locking Lucien and Nesta up in houses for their own good. Huh? WTF.
War Crimes: What Feyre did to the Spring Court, manipulating the sentries with the whole Ianthe thing and basically getting them killed, then weakening the Spring Court rulership which resulted in all those villagers in the Spring Court getting killed, then laying the Summer Court bare to Hybern as well, are nothing short of war crimes. And...instead of feeling regret, we have the main characters saying "Hybern's actions are their own." Like bitch what? Hybern wouldn't have been able to do shit if it wasn't for you! Have some damn accountability! And the fact that Tamlin and Tarquin are vilified for this never ceases to irk me.
Grooming: Rhysand groomed Feyre. He made excuses for everything he did with trauma, then sent Feyre out to do tasks for him like she's some kind of weapon he can use. WITHOUT giving her proper information, there is no choice. And everything he does is constantly explained away, until eventually Feyre becomes his trophy wife. Rhysand basically assigns Cassian to do the same for Nesta. I'm holding out hope that Elain will be saved from the Night Court.
The pregnancy debacle: the whole thing with the baby having wings and Rhysand withholding information from Feyre is just...disturbing. Idc if you're not telling her FoR hEr OwN gOoD, it is HER life at stake and she deserves to know. They didn't even try to shapeshift her to try and save her life? Like why is everybody seemingly more concerned about the baby than the mother? Disgusting. And why is Nesta vilified for being the only one to tell Feyre? She said it to hurt her, blah blah blah. She also wanted to show Feyre that their situations are similar. That they're BOTH being shit on by the Night Court. And when she's close to a breaking point...Nesta is forced to hike a mountain? That is physical abuse. Also, Rhysand being extremely territorial putting a shield over her and barely letting Feyre go anywhere is beyond weird.
Suicide baiting: What Rhysand did to Tamlin in ACOFAS is nothing short of suicide baiting. And...only Lucien seems to really be that concerned about it? Like...are you telling me I'm supposed to be supporting Rhysand after he basically told a depressed male to kill himself?
Segregation: Separating the Hewn City from Velaris IS segregation, no matter what excuse you try to come up with. You can't claim they're all shitty people, since your bestie Mor comes from the CoN. So, there are good people stuck in the CoN unable to get out of their torment because Rhysand decided that only certain individuals are allowed in Velaris.
Performance Feminism: Establishing laws to help women and not doing shit to enforce them is performance feminism. If he's as powerful as he says, he can 100% stop wing-cutting and r*pe. But, he's a goddamn virtue signaler so he doesn't fucking care. The thing is, SJM could've handled these topics in a much better way and it would've been fine. But she completely fucked shit up here and it's crazy that some people don't see it. Part of me is still waiting for the final book where she says, psych rhysand was the villain the whole time. If so, I'll take everything back.
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astroboots · 10 months
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Superhuman stamina
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader
Summary: The dangers of dating a man with superhuman stamina is that it's going to leave you sore.
Content: Miguel is a demanding menace. Overstimulation. Multiple orgasm. Squirting.
Word Count: 1.4k
Astroboot’s Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist
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The thing about dating a man that has been genetically imprinted with the DNA of a spider is that one of the side-effects of such an occurrence means he has superhuman stamina.
It's something Miguel had told you in the early days of your relationship, listing out this characteristic as just another facet of his personality, much in the way someone would say that they're a Virgo on their Tinder profile.
You hadn't thought much of it at the time, too distracted by the list of characteristics that preceded it: retractable talons? telescopic night vision? ORGANIC WEBBING?!
In retrospect, that was naïve. The talons don't really affect your day to day. They do come out when Miguel's emotional state is particularly elevated, which has lead to incidents. Like that time you had to replace your new purchased armchair, when you were on top and post-sex your new armchair looked like it had been mauled by an escaped zoo lion.
The telescopic night vision? Incredibly convenient at night when there's a blackout and you need to find your cell phone.
And the webbing... the less said about that the better, really.
But now that you've dated as long as you have, the superhuman stamina, you realize is by far the one that has the most profound consequences on your life.
At the time you hadn't realized that those enhanced attributes weren't limited to aerial battles against the latest villain of the week when he was fighting mutant lizards, or rhino men. It also haunts you in the privacy of your bedroom.
Because this is what happens when you date a man with superhuman stamina: You'll often oversleep and barely make it on time to work. On most days you've lost your voice. You'll be sore a lot.
And the thing about dating Miguel specifically is that the man is stubborn, relentless, demanding and that too extends into your bedroom.
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"Fuck, Miguel, I can't."
"'Course you can, nena, look at how well you're taking me," he says as he stares down at the space between your legs where you and him join. Where you're spread snugly around him. Where his thick cock, slick with you both, disappears into your cunt then re-emerges.
It's wet. It's messy, the sheets beneath you soaked and sticky, from the last three (four?) rounds. As snug of a fit his thick cock is inside you, he's filled you so full there's no space left for you to fit what he's spilled inside you, over and over again. It keep leaking out with each press and demanding thrust as he buries his cock inside you as deep as he goes.
You shake your head even though you know it's useless. Pleading with him has never gotten you anywhere before. You don't know why you think it's going to make a difference now.
"Please, I-I can't-- nngh, too much," you plead. You whine. You sob.
"Shh, nena, it's okay," he hushes. Again with the cooing. Again with the sweet little nicknames, but he's not showing mercy, his hand moving down from your hip, down between your legs, until his thumb presses down on your clit.
Electricity crackles through the length of your spine. Your back arches, lifting off the bed, you don't know if you are chasing into his touch or running away from it: the first? latter? both? neither.
You can't form a coherent thought anymore. It's good and too much, and your brain is short-circuiting from it all.
"There you go, see? Doing so good. Look how pretty you are taking me."
Even in the dim light of your bedroom, you can see his expression clearly. Eyes a piercing crimson red, the corners of his canine teeth peeking out from his self-satisfied smile.
He bends down, nearly folding you in half as he presses his cock as deep as it goes, until he's nudging at that sweet and perfect spot that has your vision go white and blinding behind your eyes.
Sweet, sharp ache scrapes close to your bones at the sensation of him filling you again. The way he stretches you to your limits, until you've forgotten how to breathe, and may very well be the death of you.
It's there again. The oppressive warmth that swirls sweetly in your stomach as a warning. Tears prickle your eyes as everything in you squeezes tight at the sensation.
Oh shit, it's--
"Fuck that's it nena. That's it. Come on my cock again. Come on it and I'll fill you up."
It rises in you. A pressure that builds and builds and builds, and robs you of your breath until you have nothing left to give. It's overwhelming, the way the pleasure burns at every one of your nerve endings, until your face tingles with a numbness and you can no longer feel your legs.
"Mi-Miguel," you stutter, "I can't--"
"Yes you can."
The pressure is still there, expanding with an ominous volume, and no, he's wrong. You can't. Something is different. This isn't like before. You squirm underneath him, feet planted against the mattress for leverage.
"Settle down," he says, but you don't know how you're supposed to do that when your entire body has been wounded so tight you think the whole of you are going to snap.
You shake your head frantically, sobbing with a raw burn in your throat as you thrash underneath him, trying to escape the overwhelming sensation. Oh fuck-- it's too much.
Oh god, you can't-you can't-you can't--
You raise your palms against his firm chest, pressing back, in a half-formed attempt to make him ease up, but it only spurs him on. One arm loops behind your back, lifting you from the mattress to meet his hips as he snaps them into you. And oh fuck!
It hits something devastating inside. A pin prick of pleasure that strikes every nerve in your body. It hits a frequency that makes your teeth shatter, every cell in your skull vibrate. Your leg kicks out, body twisting and turning to get away from the overwhelming sensation.
"Callate," you hear his warm strained breath in your ear.
His free hand locks around your wrists, pinning them to the side, then he's lunging forward, his mouth pressed to your shoulders and you can feel the sharp warning of his fangs resting on your skin. "Calm down, or I'm gonna bite you."
You still, shivering as his hips pulls back, then he hits that devastating spot again and again.
Every muscle in you locks up tight until you can't move and for a moment you wonder if he really did bite down. But you can still feel his mouth on your throat, his tongue lapping gently at your sweat-soaked skin until the whole of your neck tingles.
He doesn't go easy on you, thrusting into you with the same demanding pace as before, and God. The sensation is heavy and ominous like nothing else you've felt before. Large and looming with nowhere else to go, and there's nothing you can do to prevent it, and you know that if this doesn't stop, if Miguel doesn't stop, then all of you are going to burst.
You open your mouth, trying to warn him, but all that comes out is the first syllable.
"Miii--" The rest dies in a wail, and you realize it's already too late. The pressure shatters and breaks.
You come with a rush of wetness that spills out of you. It soaks everything, your thighs and his, drenching his stomach and drips down against the sheets to join the mess that's already there.
Everything sounds distant like you're pulled under water. You can barely even register Miguel's voice in your ear. "Oh shit, are you-- fuck, that's --"
He sounds surprised. But he doesn't stop. Miguel fucks you through it. Your climax and his, with frantic thrusts, until finally he settles into a slow and gentler pace.
When you come back to yourself, he's kneeling above you, his large bodyframe looming over yours.
"Fuck, babe..."
He palms at his softening cock, glistening wet with your mess as he stares down at you with darkened eyes. Slowly jerking the length of it with a lazy pace that has you mesmerized. It twitches in his grip with interest, and you know it's not going to take long before he's ready to go again.
"One more time," Miguel says. "Let's see if we can make you do it again."
Jesus fucking Christ
Your head drops down to your pillow with exhaustion.
The thing about dating a man with superhuman stamina is that it may very well kill you.
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Dedication & Credits: To my beloved @thirstworldproblemss who I hope is driving safely across the country through the mountains I love youuuuuuuuuuuuuu.
And to poor @guruan who I woke up with my other fic and robbed her of her beauty sleep.
I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!
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ronwestbreeze · 10 months
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too fast
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pairing: miguel o'hara x spider!fem!reader warnings: more angst summary: he should've stopped you... word count: 2.4k author's note: this will be the last installment! since we don't know what happens after atsv we're gonna leave it here for now! thanks for giving too slow so much and i hope you enjoy part 2!
part 1
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If Miguel O’Hara had to guess, it all started going downhill when you accidentally discovered that your sister was going to die. It wasn’t supposed to happen, you finding out. Like everything else in a Spider person’s life, it was a canon event that was bound to happen, a significant event that would truly make you who you were now. The White Spider. An event that would happen naturally, like all tragic ones do.
Because the truth was, they happen. And there was nothing you could do to stop it.
That’s what Miguel tried to tell you. That if you tried to interfere, then your dimension would unravel just as his did. He didn’t want that for you. Couldn’t want that for you. There were worse fates and that was one of them.
But of course, you were determined.
“Don’t tell me to stand by and let it happen, Miguel, all because of some stupid canon shit. Don’t tell me that.” You gritted out as you stalked down the hall, him right behind you.
“I am, Domino.” Miguel argued desperately. “I am telling you not to endanger your dimension over something that is supposed to happen. I am doing this to protect you—“
You whirled around on him, causing Miguel to stop short in front of you, “This is your way of protecting me? By telling me to stand by and let my sister die all because of some computer program?! Be fucking for real, Miguel!”
“Yes, because I know the dangers of what’s going to happen if you—”
“No, Miguel, no you don’t.” It hurt, your words. You knew what he had gone through, what he had lost. But you were too stubborn. He knew this. “I’m gonna try. Because that’s what we do. We try even if the odds are against us. That’s what all this shit that happened to me has led up to, right? Why stop now?”
It wasn’t like Miles Morales. No, this was before he learned that there were more forceful ways to stop something like this from happening.
He should’ve stopped you.
But things just fell apart too fast for him to keep up in the end.
Miguel practically dove through the portal to your dimension with Jessica and a few other Spider-men at his side. The crisis was a disaster. The Brooklyn Bridge was halfway in the water, cars either destroyed or hanging by black webs made by you. Immediately, Miguel and the others played damage control. There was yet another villain that had escaped their world and fell into another. This time it was a Green Goblin. One large enough to do this much damage.
It didn’t take long for Miguel to spot your white suit swinging about frantically, your head turning quickly every second. Which meant he had arrived just in time to stop you from making the biggest mistake you could’ve ever made for yourself and your universe. Miguel kept his eyes glued to you while leading people to safety. Until he spotted your sister’s car being thrown up in the air, quickly being caught by your black webs.
You were at the top of the bridge, trying to convince your sister to calm down, revealing your identity to her. Miguel landed on top of the bridge, you sent him a scowl and raised your hand, “Don’t!”
“You know what will happen, Domino.” He tried warning you. “One life or an entire universe? Over other families? Other brothers and sisters? What then?!”
You ignored him and shot a web down to your sister to grab onto. “If I don’t do this, then I will never forgive myself. I’m not like you, Miguel.” You looked at him pleadingly, desperately. “I can’t—”
The green hulking figure hurtled right into you, taking both you and Miguel off guard.
Your grip on your sister slipped but she was able to grab onto another web and hold on while you were preoccupied with the Green Goblin. A wave of rage—fear?—hit Miguel as he dashed toward the ugly beast, using his whole weight to throw it off of you and tackled it down to the ground.
“You don’t get to touch her!” He growled, pounding the goblin’s face until it was finally unconscious.
The bridge began to fall. Jessica began ordering every spider person around to quickly gather all the civilians left on the bridge. The top of the bridge where your sister was hanging began to crumble and Miguel watched as you swung back toward her.
He should’ve stopped this long before. He shouldn’t have let it get this far.
You were already dashing across the top of the bridge, Miguel had ended up behind you in seconds. You glanced over your shoulder at him, “Miguel, don’t!”
But he ignored you and shot his scarlet webs toward your figure. But of course, you were quicker than him, You always were.
His webs had missed. The web holding your sister up snapped. She was falling.
And you had dived after her.
Miguel leaped off the bridge, shot a thick web toward you and above him. In seconds the fall had stopped. You were now hanging and attached to Miguel’s web while the other half of his web kept him attached to what was left of part of the bridge.
But your webs had already been released.
You had already caught her.
No. No. No. No. No.
You had been too fast for him.
When the adrenalin cooled down a bit, you shot your head up at him, the angered glare evident on your face, “Were you really about to fucking stop me?!”
Instead of acknowledging your anger, Miguel shot back, “Do you realize what you’ve done?!”
“I saved my sister!”
“You’ve given your universe a death sentence!” Miguel shouted. “Why do you have to be so fucking selfish?!”
“Selfish?!” You snapped. Now you were quite pissed. Truly, he had never seen you this angry before now. He supposed that it made sense that it would be him to cause this. There had been many close calls. Now, it was different. You couldn’t keep your resolve. “I didn’t invade another universe and replace a girl’s father! Did you ever think that your situation was different?! Did you ever think that what you did was a lot worse than me saving my sister?! You can’t project your problems onto me, Miguel. It’s not the same and you know it—”
“Did it ever occur to you that I did this because I love you?” Miguel hissed. “Did it ever occur to you that I couldn’t bear to watch you lose everything over the same mistake I made?! Did it, Domino? Did you ever stop and think—”
“Wait.” He realized then that you weren’t looking at him anymore. Instead you were looking down. At the end of your web. “If I screwed everything up, then how come my dimension isn’t unraveling?”
The way you asked this, the way you posed the question made him go silent for a moment. Because he just then realized things weren’t changing. Other than the chaos that was happening around them already, there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. No holes in the dimension. Nothing disappearing.
“I….” Miguel looked back to you, “I….M-Miguel I saved her, didn’t I?”
He still couldn’t respond.
You reached your web up and tied it to Miguel’s wrist before snapping his web attached to you apart.
“Domino—”
But he watched you fall toward the bottom.
It didn’t take him long to get there too. It didn’t take him long to see the limp body attached to the end of your web. It didn’t take him long to realize that your universe wouldn’t unravel any time soon.
Your sister was dead. Just like it was supposed to….
This was supposed to be better. This was supposed to be what kept you and your universe safe.
Miguel O’Hara always made the tough calls. The decisions that no one else could.
So why did it feel like the dimension was tearing itself apart in front of his eyes? Why did it feel like you were going to disappear at any second? Why did it feel like he had already lost you even though you were right there.
He did. He lost you.
You slipped from his fingers so fast…
“Is this what you wanted?” A weak whisper left your lips, your back still turned to him.
There were no words he could say that could fix any of it.
Miguel removed his mask, so that you could see his face. So that you could see how sincere he was. Only for you to see. Only you mattered in that moment.
“Sometimes you can’t stop what’s meant to happen.” When you glanced over your shoulder at him, when you looked at him through glassy eyes—your mask now gone—it made the words a lot harder to force out, “I never wanted any of this. Not like this…”
Jessica and the others arrived but didn’t say anything. Jessica had been one of the people on Miguel’s side about the whole ordeal, but even she was smart enough not to say anything. You were already hurting too much.
You glared at him through the water falling from your eyes, you glared at Jessica, you glared at all of them.
“Well, congratulations.”
“Y/N…” Jessica tried, only she went silent when she noticed your sister’s body limp behind you. There was nothing to be said.
You tore off your bracelet and threw it at Miguel’s feet. “You saved the canon, O’Hara. You should be proud.”
After that, you stopped coming to HQ. Except for that one time when you announced you were quitting the society for good. After that he stopped seeing the White Spider swinging around your dimension and stopping bad guys. The only time he saw you don your suit was to fight a new villain called the Electro. After that, he hadn’t seen you in the newspapers nor social media ever again.
This wasn’t something he really didn’t see coming. Frankly, he wasn’t even sure if the canon knew this was what exactly would happen after your sister’s death. That you would just stop being the White Spider. That you would give it all up.
Fuck. Of course this would be the last straw. He knew you. He met your sister multiple times.
You weren’t like Miguel. You would not bounce back easily. That was never you.
He should’ve stopped it. He shouldn’t have let it get that far…
The fight on the train didn’t last for long. Like you had said beforehand, you hadn’t planned on fighting him. Only keeping him at bay so that Miles was given time to go back to his dimension. So you had gotten your licks in, getting to kick your man’s ass was something so refreshing and should’ve happened sooner if you were being honest.
You landed a few kicks at Miguel—his waist, face, and legs—before he grabbed you and threw you off the train. But you fell gracefully, knowing that you had done your part. So you entered your data into your bracelet, a portal appearing behind you.
“He’s just a kid, Miguel.” You called.
The last thing you saw was Miguel, an unreadable expression on his face as you disappeared through the portal.
Gwen had recruited you to help Miles a couple hours after you had gotten back to your dimension. Apparently, he had been sent to the wrong Earth so now it was your job to track him down and help him complete his goal. Helping him succeed at something that you couldn’t.
So before you started this long fight, the long journey ahead, you went to your sister’s grave. You honestly couldn’t remember the last time you were here. After the funeral, you weren’t sure you even came here alone yourself. Just to see her.
It hurt too much before. It only just kept reminding you how much you failed. Why you stopped being the White Spider. Why your relationship with Miguel could never quite be the same.
Your spine shuddered and you turned your head slightly away from your sister’s grave. “It’s kind of insensitive to do a sneak attack when I’m visiting my sister, O’Hara.”
Behind you, Miguel stood a little further away. His mask was off. You didn’t move from your sister’s grave and he didn’t move from where he stood. The two of you took to staring at each other for a long moment.
Since it didn’t seem like he was going to say anything first, you sighed, “Don’t act so surprised. I thought you knew me better than that—”
“I thought I did too.” Miguel scowled, though the harshness was mixed with something looser. Something that would’ve made you crumble on the spot.
You cleared away some of the dead rose petals from the last bouquet of flowers that were left here, “Is that what you came here for? To berate me  into changing my mind? I’m convinced already—”
“I’m not here to convince you. How can I do that when you won’t listen to reason?” Miguel hissed. “If you are willing to die over this, destroy another universe, then…” You looked at him fully then. Perhaps you were too far away to see, perhaps your mind was playing tricks on you, but you could’ve sworn his eyes were red. Not from his unique abilities.
The emotion in his eyes, god you wanted to look away. You didn’t want your resolve to fail again. Not this time.
This time was too important.
“Then what?” You asked him quietly.
Miguel never responded to your question. He ducked his head down for a moment. The words that left his mouth almost barely audible. “How many times will I have to lose you, Domino? How many times will you leave me?”
You stood and slowly inched toward the man. Cautiously, you gently grabbed his face once you were close enough and leaned your forehead against his. Your thumb caressed his cheek. His larger hands wrapped around you until his face is buried into your neck, practically inhaling your scent.
God, it was always like this. One moment you were in each other’s arms and in the next throwing each other off of trains or running until neither of you could run anymore. Moments like this, the gentle, the quiet. It never lasted.
In the next moment Miguel wasn’t in your arms anymore. You weren’t on your Earth anymore. Now you were flying about in search for Miles, hoping to find him before Miguel and his gang did. You were never sure when the two of you would ever find that semblance of peace again. Those moments were gone in seconds and you were back to the real world. That’s how your cycle went.
That was your canon.
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hana-no-seiiki · 15 days
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Would you do a second part of Damián x Cat!villain!reader? Or maybe something with a different plot, but I need it too much 😵‍💫
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I don’t usually entertain part 2 asks but cause it’s you my adorkable Lucas, I shall. I’m adding the other boys and some wild cards for good measure.
tw/cw: yandere, dick’s part gives me major second hand embarrassment but maybe that’s a me issue, (implied) jason has seggs with your unconscious body (but it’s consensual). damian is aged up but still younger than reader hence the condescending way of speech the latter has for him.
ROOFTOP TALKS W/ THE BOYS
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☁️ . . . w/ Dickie Boi
When you were dating it was a lot of you flirting and him asking you to be a bit more professional. And then you promptly reminding him that your profession is being a thief.
And that you were taking that profession seriously by stealing his heart.
Kisses in the rain were pretty much your guys’s thing. As much as your cat heart hated being wet.
When he became Nightwing and after Jason’s death, you guys didn’t break up immediately. Just fizzled out. Long talks about everything and anything became short greetings and small talk until you two officially ended it.
Nowadays Dick tries his hardest to get your attention, he shows off a lot. Ups the romanticness of it all. Brings you all around the city for dates before you two chill on your favorite spot.
Dick felt great. He just spent an entire night out on a date with his first love, some might argue that you’re his only true one too. You two haven’t been able to hang out due to the chaos of life and Jason. But finally he was able to have you for himself for once. No Tim to watch you two through the cameras (he made sure all of those were unavailable), no Damian to stalk you two within the shadows (it took a while, but he managed to convince the big ol’ bat to keep the youngest occupied), and no vigilante business he had to deal with.
There was just one last thing. A kiss. (He wanted sex, to feel you around him again. But considering you two just got back into the swing of things he was willing to wait)
He closed his eyes, and leaned forward.
Only to be met with air.
And then the ground.
“Uhm. Did you just — I mean I know I look cute tonight and all — but did you just try to kiss me, Grayson?” You had only managed to narrowly dodge the action. A little amused by the way he’s currently making out with the floor, but mostly confused and somewhat terrified.
Dick groaned, of all the things to put him on the ground this week. “I thought - I thought we were…”
You looked at him, blinked a few times, and managed to utter out, “Dude.”
☁️ . . . w/ Hubby Toddy
Imma be honest with you. You two bone 80-90% of the times you guys meet.
The only reason that it’s not 100% is because of the danger you two are in for that 10-20%
The vigilante/villain lifestyle and environment isn’t ideal for boning 24/7 y’know.
The reason why you guys fuck so often is cause Cat Villain! Reader being the menace they are only has to remind Jason that he died a virgin for you two to get down to business.
The Batboys are obsessed with proving themselves/ a point in general after all. So you often play them like a fiddle with just a few words.
Aside from that, a lot of your rooftop talks are you being snarky towards each other. Jason asking you to stop risking your life with heists and you vice versa with his vendetta.
Which usually leads to anger fucking but I digress.
You two often snack on the greasiest, unhealthy food while together.
Sometimes you spend hours talking about what he missed while he was gone. Of course he already knows everything. He kept tabs on you and whatnot. But hearing you speak gives him a sense of calm like no other.
Cuddling ftw. Jason adores enveloping you.
He likes doing stuff that proves that you exist?? Like that you’re next to him. That both of you are alive in that moment.
“‘M sleepy.” Your eyelids were beyond heavy at that point. Jason wanted you to be up for every single round, and it seemed like his stamina was endless.
Usually you’d pass out and he’d just continue getting off using you but that night he gave you a challenge. Something about wanting to see the way your pretty eyes as he ruined your insides.
“Too much action for you tonight, kit?”
“Mhm.”
“Go to sleep. I’ll watch over you.” He shifted your body in a more secure position, wrapping his large arms around your form.
“Promise me you won’t disappear?”
“I’m here always.” He let out a deep breath.
As soon as he made sure you were out cold he continued,
“Not even death will keep me away from you, baby.”
☁️ . . . w/ Timsies Whimsies
Most of your hang outs are spent indoors
Otherwise it’d be you hovering over his shoulders as he works on his projects.
Most of your rooftop times with Tim are spent in silence, playing video games, or board games.
Sometimes you two would spend hours playing and voicing cheesy dating sims.
But sometimes you use the time to get him to sleep.
You two are very much opposites when it comes to sleep times. Like if we go full on cat mode here, you prolly sleep off like 70% of your life.
I really shouldn’t be writing this while I’m sleepy as hell shouldn’t I?
Tim had never slept so well in his entire life.
All he remembered before being lulled into dreamland was you singing, patting him on the head, and some laughter before everything went dark.
But now he wishes he never slept at all.
“Is this . . . an edit of us a kids—“
Tim slammed his laptop shut so hard he’s pretty sure he’d broken it.
You looked at him incredulously. How long had you been snooping through his stuff? How did you even manage to unlock it? He made sure it was inaccessible even to Bruce.
“I . . . I read this one fanfic . . . that we met as kids and grew up together.” He confessed.
Yes, Tim gets brainrots over [Cat Villain Name] x Reader / Red Robin fanfics. Could you blame him?
“Honestly that’s pretty cute and wholesome. The other things you have there on the other hand . . . “
“I’ll pay for all of your boba expenses for a year if you forget about this.”
“A decade and I’ll never look through your shit again.”
“Deal.”
☁️ . . . w/ Damie Baby
Up until recently your rooftop meetings have been an even more snarky version of Jason’s with less hatefucking more … hating.
While Dick is more extravagant with how he shows off. Damian is more on the ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about I’m just this awesome’ side of the spectrum.
It took him a while to finally figure out that you being a menace is more of a facade if anything
And boy did it make him get a romantic boner when he found out
Like it went from you teasing him to hell and back to him turning the tables
“Wow, ain’t it past your bedtime, Damie?”
“Not my fault I can’t get a wink of sleep without you beside me.”
“. . .Ah.”
Aside from that you like roping him into playing games and basically all the things he missed out on being trained to be as an assassin.
He in turn does more traditional courting methods on you. Like buying you flowers, having slow dances.
Sometimes you do each other’s henna.
(He definitely is smug about it when other members of the batfam ask)
He often scolds you about reading so much late into the night…and insists he reads everything for you while you sit prettily on his lap
His favorite activity is running his hands through your hair as you lay your head on his lap while he dictates a book out loud. Usually it’s non fiction so that A) you’d sleep faster, and B) he gets his readings for uni in.
☁️ . . . w/ Bruce ig
“Hey, loser.” You purred, appearing from the underneath Batman’s cape.
Without a beat, he replied, “[Cat Villain Name].” and nothing else. He does not move. Doesn’t even make an attempt to seem affected by your antics.
“Awe, I missed you too!” You hugged him tightly and gave a pat for measure.
You were about to let when you felt a weight atop your head.
He was… giving you a headpat? Albeit awkwardly.“Who are you and what did you do to—“
“Treat them well.”
And he disappears.
Hey, wasn’t that your move?
In anycase,
It’s about time that Bruce learnt,
if you can’t beat em, join em.
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ecoamerica · 15 days
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youtube
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angels-fantasy · 19 days
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Top-Secret Fiction Ch. 1
Date Scored
Katsuki Bakugou x Reader
Description: After meeting the one and only pro hero Dynamight on a dating app, you two begin to see each other. Because of the dangers that come with his hero work, you both promise to be completely honest with each other from the beginning; though you can't help but keep one big secret from him.
You write fan fiction, mostly about him.
Chapter Details: This story is honestly mostly fluff, some crack fic elements lol, lowkey fast pacing but IM IMPATIENT LOL sorry
Word Count: 1.2k
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It was a Tuesday night when you were on your computer, logged into HeroFiction.com and typing away at a new fan fiction you promised your readers.
You had been writing fan fiction as a hobby for about three years now and over time quickly began gaining followers. Now, you had almost four thousand readers that loved your work.
At first you wrote for a variety of heroes, until Dynamight started becoming really popular. You didn't see the hype in the beginning. He was so rude and destructive, why would you write about him?
Your mind didn't change for a while until you saw a video of him getting interviewed after taking down a villain. He was as rude as ever of course, but his face was covered in soot and his hero costume was ripped, showing his chest and arms. Watching that video made you realize how hot he actually was.
That was the moment you decided to start writing for him.
He quickly became a favorite among your readers, so you kept writing for him. It seemed as the more you wrote for him, the more you liked him. He was suddenly your favorite pro hero.
Now, you focused every piece of writing on him. It worked out perfectly for you. You and your readers loved it, it was a win-win.
So now as you were thinking of what to write next, your phone buzzed next to your thigh, breaking you out of your thoughts.
You grabbed your phone and looked at your new notification, seeing it was from the dating app you recently downloaded.
Now curious, you opened up the app to see what the notification was. It appeared to be a message from a recent match.
Hey sexy. Meet up 2night 👀?
Face curling up in disgust, you blocked the person and deleted the message. It seemed as if everyone on that app was just looking for a hookup, and not something long term.
Maybe it was foolish for you to think you'd find something serious on the app, but it didn't hurt to try right?
You closed your laptop, making sure to save your work, and began swiping through profiles on the app.
You continued swiping left for who knows how long, until you came across a profile claiming to be Dynamight.
Sitting up in bed quickly, you looked at the profile closely and read through it.
Katsuki Bakugou, 30
Pro hero. No, I'm not hooking up with you. Yes, I'm fucking real.
It was short and not so sweet, but it didn't seem fake. You swiped through his pictures. The first one was of him and other pro heroes dressed in their hero costumes. The second was a picture of him, flexing in the mirror, and the third was a selfie of him and a german shepherd outside.
Maybe you were being way too optimistic, but you really believed that this could be him. If it was, then you hoped that somehow he'd match with you. If it wasn't real, then it wouldn't be an issue, but you would be disappointed.
Feeling brave, you decided to swipe right.
It's a Match!
You never gasped so loud in your life. If it was already a match, then that meant he had to have swiped right on you before right? You bit your nails as your heart raced in excitement, wondering what you should even say to him now that you were matched.
But what if he wasn't even real? You'd just be embarrassing yourself by believing that Dynamight of all people, would be on a dating app and actually matching with you. This could be some horrible person messing with people, trying to humiliate them.
Now discouraged by your own thoughts, you just shook your head and closed the app.
Buzz.
Katsuki Bakugou: Hey
Your eyes widened and your eyebrows raised so high up they could probably touch your hairline.
"Oh my word!" You cried while gripping your phone. You opened the app once again and tapped on the new message, typing your own.
Me: Hello!
Me: I'm sorry but I just have to ask. Are you actually Dynamight?
You chewed on your fingers nervously as you watched the text bubble pop up, a message eventually following it.
Katsuki Bakugou: Yes I'm real. I can prove it to ya if you need me to. Idk how but I will.
You hummed out loud, thinking of what he could do to prove he's real.
Me: Uhh could you send a pic of yourself with a spoon on your nose?
Katsuki Bakugou: That's what you came up with?
Me: That's the only specific thing I could think of!
Katsuki Bakugou: Yeah yeah
Katsuki Bakugou: [image attachment]
Opening the picture, you saw exactly what you asked for. It was Dynamight with a damn spoon on his nose.
You threw your phone across your bedroom and shoved your face in your pillow, screaming in excitement.
"Holy shit." You said in disbelief, "I'm actually talking to Dynamight."
You got up out of bed and picked your phone up off the floor.
Me: Oh my word you're actually real
Me: Thanks for the pic lol sorry you had to do that
Katsuki Bakugou: It's fine. I get why you'd think otherwise so that's why I agreed to it.
Me: Well thanks again
Me: Anyways, can I ask why you're on here? Most people I've come across so far are only looking for one thing. If that's you then no judgement here.
Katsuki Bakugou: Someone I know recommended it to me. And nah that's not me. Being a pro hero and one night stands do not mix well.
Me: Understandable. I'm no pro hero, but I'm on here for something more serious you know? Even just finding friends would be nice.
You cringed at how pathetic you sounded and sent another text.
Me: Sorry, didn't mean to get sappy there lol.
Katsuki Bakugou: You're good. But I feel the same about wanting something more serious. Sucks that almost everyone on here is just a horny bastard.
Damn, who knew Dynamight was so relatable?
Right when you were typing a new message, another one from Dynamight came in.
Katsuki Bakugou: But anyways, when are you free? I wanna take you out.
Katsuki Bakugou: If you want me to, obviously.
You squealed at the message, kicking your feet in excitement. It was kind of surprising that he asked you out so early, but just from what you know about him and his personality, it wasn't out of character. Fast and straight to the point.
You bit your bottom lip as you typed up your response.
Me: Of course, I'd love to! I'm free this weekend.
Katsuki Bakugou: Alright, I'll pick you up Saturday at 5:30 pm.
Me: What do I wear?? Pls tell me where we're going.
Katsuki Bakugou: Can't. It's a surprise. I'll tell you what to wear the day of.
Me: Okay...
Katsuki Bakugou: Don't back out now.
You grinned and held your phone against your chest. You couldn't believe you scored a date with your favorite hero.
Suddenly, your cat jumped up onto your bed and in your lap. You gasped and picked him up, carrying him in front of your face.
"Hey Cheerios." You cooed, "I'm going on a date with Dynamight!"
"Meow"
...
next chapter
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authors note
i hope you enjoyed the first chapter of Top Secret Fiction lol. this is my first multi-chapter fic so i'm a little nervous, but i think it's okay so far! pls let me know what you think 😊
also, if you noticed that bakugou seems to be a bit more mellow here, its bc he's older in this fic and i just imagine him as being a bit more calm as an adult.
btw sorry if the fast pace isn't something you like. i'm impatient lol
love ya!
taglist: @doumadono @lovra974 @54fangirl @andysdrafts @dagger-dragger @l4rsun1vrrse @emmab3mma @littlkittenfan @tatiquichi @cloudxluv @seonne @shonen-brainrot @the2ndl
those in pink cannot be tagged for some reason!
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The Quiet Ones 5
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.
Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader
Note: I slept for like ten hours and it was fucking wild.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.
Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖
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You watch the long needle slide out from under your skin. You don’t feel it much. That man, Lloyd, loops the tube around the IV bag stand. You sit in the bed still, disoriented and dull. You can feel the tension buzzing off of him, as if he’s holding himself back. That scares you more than anything he’s done. 
Before you can say or do anything, your stomach growls. The tumble is painful as your insides squeeze violently. He looks at you and takes your hand, tugging you towards the edge as he snickers. 
“Hungry, jellybean?” He teases, “come on. I’ll make you a nice omelet.” He pulls until you shimmy across the bed. You turn your legs out and can’t help but use his strength to stand. He’s patient as he easily hauls you up. “You okay, babykins? I could carry you. Like before.” 
“N-no,” you try to wiggle your hand free but his grip is unbreakable. He squeezes and you quit your resistance. 
“You might be a bit groggy, that’s normal. The smoke, the meds--” 
“Meds?” 
“Well, I slipped a bit extra in the bag,” he shrugs as he glances over at the IV, “just so you could sleep.” 
You look at him, your horror burning from your eyes. He grins proudly and swings your arm, turning to lead you to the door. You take short steps, muscles stiff and achy, shoulders wracked from sleeping on your back. You look down at yourself and shudder; at least you’re still wearing your own clothes. 
“I’ve been doing cooking classes. I can do a florentine that will blow your tits off,” he boasts as he angles you through the door. 
The hall is airy and echoey. The house must be huge. You get that sense easily. You don’t need to go around and count the rooms. He takes you down the long hallway and you stop at the top of a set of stairs. They bend in the middle but more corning, there’s a large space between each. They’re polished to a shine and look slippery as the morning reflects off of them. 
“Just a step at a time,” he goads as you latch onto the railing.  
You put a foot down and grip both him and the railing. Another tide of wooziness comes over you. It could be what he gave you or your days of restriction, but it’s too much. The world is too much. 
“That’s it, baby,” he coos as you take a second step down.  
This is strange. It reminds you of a movie you watched as a kid with a maze and twisting and turning walkways and a taunting villain. You’ve awoken in his trap and you see no escape in sight. 
You slip on the third and let out a squeak as you feel yourself falling. He’s quick to catch you, scooping you up easily even in the narrow space. He lifts you and continues down swiftly, bringing you onto flat ground. You murmur and rub your head as you feel his heartbeat against your arm. 
You feel a tickle in your hair and hear him take a deep breath. Is he smelling you? You repress a shiver at the thought as your eyes struggle to focus on the shapes all around you.  
He carries you into another room, a kitchen, as spacious and sleek as any other part of the strange house. A white marble counter lines two walls and wraps around into full C, marking off the cooking space. On the other side, there’s glass table in an abstract, asymmetric shape with metal frame chairs around it. The whole place is out of one of those design magazines. All impractical at the expense of aesthetic. 
He sits you in one of the chairs, it’s just a rigid as you expect. He stays bent, holding you by the shoulders until your hold yourself up. He drags his hands down your arms as he reluctantly pulls away. You flutter your lashes and rub your eye sockets, trying to block out your reality. 
“My sleepy bean,” he beams and plants a kiss on the top of your head. “So how about it? Eggs florentine? Or are you in the mood for something a bit sweeter? I’ve perfected my crepes.” 
You grumble and drop your hands slowly, crossing your arms as a chill rolls through you. You feel it pricking in your chest and across your skin. You’re not wearing a bra and your tee shirt is thin. You keep your arms locked. 
You listen to him moving around. You don’t know what to do. You’re too weak to do anything. Even if you could get on the other side of the walls, you have no idea where you are. Where help could be. 
You rock as your fear bubbles up. Why is he doing this? Why does he think you want him? Why you? Of all people. You mind your business, you keep your head down, eyes to yourself... you don’t deserve this. 
You glance over at him as he starts to hum. Your lip quivers as you watch his shoulders blades stretch the fabric of his shirt. He’s a bit ridiculous in a full set of satin pajamas, the dark black speckled with a subtle grey leopard print. He’s too much. 
You turn your head straight and let it hang. You resign yourself to helplessness. You have to be logical about this. You can’t spark his suspicion to soon. You have to wait for a window and then... figure that out, you guess. You don’t like uncertainty. You have a routine and you keep to it. That’s what keeps you safe. Or so you thought. 
“...wise men say, only fools rush in...” he sings softly and you wince. The lyrics of the Elvis ballad make your skin crawl. He’s actually deranged. You don’t know him, you're strangers. 
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I know tree nuts are a no go,” he chimes as he whisks, turning to you with a broad smile.  
You blink at him. How does he know that? 
“Don’t think you’ll be needing any but I also got penicillin on the no go list and the latex thing... there’s alternatives,” he chuckles and you furrow your brow. “How’s that ticker doing? You been taking lots of iron?” 
Your body hollows out. How much does he know about you? How? You can guess he’s snooped around your medical records. Obviously, he’s a man with criminalistic leanings. Is this even his house? Has he taken you to a fortress he commandeered by force? Is there some terrified family bound in the basement? Is there a basement? 
He continues to futz around the kitchen as you curl your shoulders down and chew on your lips. Speaking of your heart, it’s beating again, racing, almost painfully. You’re a mouse trapped in the corner by the feline with his bristly whiskers. 
Your eyes wander over to the large windows and you stare out at the curated landscape. The property is beautiful and lush. You imagine a whole team maintains the perfectly trimmed hedges and colourful blooms. The stone mosaic pathway and the leafy archway over a bench. It’s like a dream, more so, a twisted nightmare painted in hues of fantasy. 
A plate clinks down before you and a sweet aroma brings you back inside. You face forward as Lloyd steps back on his heel, watching you with anticipation. You look at him then the plate. He pulls out a chair and plops himself down, planting his elbow as he cups his chin and watches. 
“Let me know what you think,” he insists. 
You take a breath and unlock your arms. Slowly, you drag them apart and take the thick butter knife and long fork. The cutlery feels too big for your small hands. You lean forward as the drizzle of dark syrup across the rolled crepe lures you in. Your stomach roars noisily and he giggles. 
“Aw, you must be starving,” he muses, “please eat, baby, I don’t want you to ever go hungry again.” 
You exhale through a ripple of disgust. You cut into the thin crepe and into the filling. Slice off the end of the roll and scoop it up with the filling. You carefully open your mouth around the fork and take a bite. Your eyes flit up to meet Lloyd’s as his gaze sticks on you. There are flames in his blue irises. 
You pull your mouth off the fork in embarrassment as he hums. He’s a weird, weird man. All of this is weird. Surreal. 
You look down at the butter knife and contemplate the gold cutlery. It’s heavy, it would hurt if you used the handle to give him a conk, but the blade is too dull to do much. It can slice through a crepe but wouldn’t do much on meat and bone. You don’t think you could do it, either. The thought of hurting others is just unnatural. 
“Is it good? Tried my own combination,” he explains happily, “dark chocolate syrup, not too much sugar, some softened cream cheese in the middle with black cherry jam.” 
You swallow and look around for something to wipe your lips. Short of a napkin, you lick your lip and clamp them together. He shifts in his chair, an act that makes you feel uncomfortable. 
“Good,” you croak. 
“Oh, wait,” he stands suddenly, “your coffee. Oopsie.” 
He struts away and your stomach mulches the single bite greedily. As much as you want to be stubborn, you’re so hungry. And it’s delicious. It’s better than your usual flavourless fare. You could gobble it all down in a second but you won’t. You carefully cut out another bite as he returns with a tall mug.  
He puts the cup down by your plate. You gulp down a forkful and set down the cutlery. You consider the mug before you take it, the white porcelain marked with the golden outline of a rose above the letter ‘Mrs.’. He has another in his hands, black but with a bowtie above ‘Mr.’. What the hell? 
“Colombian dark roast. A little less caffeine so your heart won’t mind so much,” he says. 
You nod and take the cup. The thought of coffee is enough to override your agitation. You take a sip and hold back a sigh. It’s good. You hate all of this but it’s all so good. You put the cup back and return your attention to the crepes. You pause and glance up at him. He doesn’t have a plate, just his cup. 
“Oh, jellybean, you’re so sweet,” he smirks, “I gotta keep my protein up. I’ll have some eggs and a shake soon. Right now, you just worry about you.” 
You dip your chin down and focus on eating. Small bites. You don’t want to seem too greedy. You don’t want him to see how much you need this. Does he know everything? Of course, he was watching but did he know the days you spent feeling as if your stomach was eating itself? 
He pushes his hair back, trying to tidy the long strands as he watches you, “we’ll get washed up after breakfast. Then you can get settled in and relax. I’ll take care of everything else, alright? You just need to get all dolled up when the time comes,” he explains as he drags his fingertip around the tabletop, “not that you need to do very much.” 
You just chew. What can you say or do? This man is straight up crazy. Not only are you his prisoner, he’s been stalking you. It doesn’t matter when it started, look where it’s ended. No, this can’t be the end. 
“What’s...” you speak before you can think. You shake your head and smother your question with another bite. 
“What? Go on, sugar lips, ask me anything? You wanna know my favourite colour? My favourite song?” His cheeks tint pink as he plays with a button on his pajamas. 
You clear your throat and put down the fork and knife, “what’s going on... later?” 
He tilts his head curiously. 
“The... dress and... doll up?” You repeat his words flatly. 
“That’s a surprise,” he trills as if it should be obvious. “Don’t wanna spoil it, do we?” 
“I guess,” you sit back and fold your hands in your lap. 
“You don’t gotta think about anything, sweet cheeks. You leave the thinking to me. I’m gonna take care of you,” he avows as his hand stretches across the front of his satin shirt. “You just gotta be you.” 
You feel his gaze bearing down on you. You peek up to find his eyes slipping down and you feel them centre on your tee shirt, your nipples poking against the cotton. You hunch your shoulders and cross your arms again. 
“How’s the coffee, jelly bean? You like it?” He tears his attention from your chest. 
“Good, thank you,” you murmur. 
“Ugh, I love hearing your voice,” he puts his coffee down and reaches between his legs. You blanch as he drags his chair closer as he lifts himself. He puts his hand on your knee, stroking with his thumb, “will you call me ‘honey’?” 
You stare at him. Your cheek draw tight and your lips flatten. You want to shake off his touch and scream but that foggy glaze in his eyes deters you. This man is wild. 
“Okay, er,” you gulp tightly and cough, “honey.” 
He hums into a sigh and his hand slips higher on your leg before trail back down, “oh,” he shakes his shoulders, “that tingles. Do it again.” 
You fight not to let your true emotion blaze through. You hug yourself tighter and bite down before you can muster the word, “honey.” 
“Oh, baby, that’s nice,” he winks and sits back, eyes grazing up and down your body, “you cold? You’re all twisted up like a pretzel.” 
You nod. It's an excuse you’ll gladly take. 
“Why didn’t you say something sooner, jellybean?” He stands suddenly and you notice the way he tugs on the waistband of his pants. You turn your head, blurring your vision so everything around you is vague. 
He rushes off and you wait. You don’t know what else to do. You’re still too weak to make a move. Whatever he gave you is potent. Or maybe, you’re just too scared to do more than shrink and surrender. 
He returns with a fluffy purple robe in his hands. He comes around the back of your chair and you lean forward to let him drape it around you. He curls his hands over your shoulders and bends over you. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. 
“You need more coffee, baby cakes?” He asks as he kneads your shoulders. 
“Still working on it,” you pull away from him and grab the cup, “thank you...” you let the words dangle in the silence, tension piquing, “honey.” 
He sighs and draws away with a tickle up your neck, “mmm, isn’t this wonderful?” 
297 notes · View notes
slayfics · 6 months
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Explosive tendencies a slow burn fanfic about the readers developing relationship with Katsuki Bakugo.
Chapter one: You stalk Katsuki’s social media page.
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Your phone lit up with a notification buzzing on your desk. You pick up your phone to see a notification from Instagram and see that Izuku has followed you. You curiously look at his page and see that it has an overwhelming amount of All Might photos, then click over to see who else he is following and quickly realize he has followed everyone from the class.
You had just recently started your first year at U.A. and still hadn't interacted too much with your other classmates. So curiosity got the best of you as you scrolled through Izuku's following list to look at some of your classmate's pages to get a better understanding of them.
You glanced at many of your classmates pages. Mina's page was super pink and most photos were either selfies or her or her out with friends. She seemed to have an easy time making friends and getting along with others. She was probably the classmate you had the most interactions with. Purely because she would come up to you as if she had already known you her whole life. Much like she did to everyone else.
Shoto's page was empty expect for one picture of soba.
Eijiro's page had only two photos. One of the pro hero Crimson Riot and another was a selfie with his bright red hair. You couldn't help but wonder if some of your classmates deleted their old photo's to start over fresh at U.A.
Kyoka had a bunch of pictures of concerts and band albums with a few pictures of herself in between.
Tenya had a bunch of picture's of books he read and recommended.
Continuing to scroll through Izuku's following list you stopped when coming across Katsuki's page.
You clicked on his page and scrolled through the few pictures he had. Your cheeks flushed ever so slightly looking at one of the selfies he had posted.
You weren't sure why but something about him had caught your attention. Ever since being in the same group as him in the U.A. entrance exam, you had found yourself curious about him. All of your other classmates seemed to be put off by his constant angry demeanor, but something about his tenacity made you want to know more about him.
You pulled your knees into your chest as you stared at your phone. Your phone was unlocked sitting idly on Katsuki's Instagram page. The bright screen illuminated your dimmed room.
You twirled your hair absentmindedly as you debated following him. Just do it, don't be a coward you told yourself. You swiftly picked up your phone and clicked follow then locked and dropped your phone down back on your desk.
To your surprise, your phone buzzed again shortly after, you quickly looked and felt your heart flutter. He had liked one of your pictures. Not just a picture, but a picture of yourself you posted a few days ago.
Your face flushed as you held your phone in your hand. Suddenly, your phone dinged with another notification making you jump.
He had followed back.
You gripped your phone in your hand harder as you scrolled over to direct message him and stared at the page feeling your cheeks get even warmer. Come on just say something, you tried to hype yourself up.
He liked your picture and followed you back so obviously that means something right? Fuck it just do it you said to yourself and typed out a message.
"Hey I never got a chance to ask what happened after we split up?"
You typed and sent swiftly before you lost your nerve. During a training for your class at USJ some villains had broken in and attacked the class. You were split up with Bakugo and Kirishima for a short time before the two boys decided to go after more of the villains while you went back to the exit with the rest of the class.
You set your phone down not expecting an answer any time soon but you were surprised to see three dots appear almost immediately. Your heart dropped at the next message.
"What’s your address? I’ll Come over and tell you all about it."
What?! Were you reading that right?? You never expected that response. Your hands started to shake a bit.
It was late and surely the others in the house wouldn’t approve of having him over at this time. Fuck- you knew you were supposed to be on your best behavior since starting U.A. but… how were you supposed to say no.
"You ok with sneaking in?"
"Yeah just hurry up and send your address."
Before putting any more thought into it you typed out your address and pressed send.
Oh crap- You looked around your room and noticed all the stuffed animals on your bed. You quickly shoved them all in the closet along with some loose clothes that were around your room.
It wasn't long before you heard a loud explosion from outside and your phone dinged again with a notification.
"Which window is yours?"
You opened your window and saw Katsuki standing outside, within a split second of spotting you he had used his quirk to be at your window seal. You backed up as he jumped into your room.
"Uh- Hi," You greeted him trying to sound confident but it was evident in your voice you were nervous.
Katsuki sat on your bed leaning back against the wall.
"So you want to know what happened?" He asked, his face adorned with his usual smirk.
"Yeah," you said, as you sat down in the chair at your desk facing Katsuki.
"We found the other villains and I took down that warp gate villain, which slowed the rest of them down."
"Wow really?!" You said, amazed. You knew All Might had shown up and taken over so you didn't expect to hear that Katsuki had played that much of a part in the fight.
"Fucking Deku got in my way though!" Katsuki yelled.
"Hey are you alright?" You heard someone else in the house call from outside the room as they approached your door.
"Shit!" You grabbed Katsuki by his shirt and shoved him into your closet. Just in time for them to knock on your door.
You opened your door, "Yeah sorry it was just the TV- didn't realize it was gonna be that loud." You lied.
"Oh- ok-," they said, slightly suspicious since your TV was off but having no other evidence decided to drop the subject. "Well goodnight don't stay up too late," they said as they started to walk away.
"I won't don't worry! Goodnight," you called back, shutting your door quickly.
You opened your closet door and a few of your stuffed animals fell out.
Katsuki had one of them in his hand, "This is a cute little guy," He said with a smug smirk on his face.
"Shut up," you said, reaching trying to grab the stuffed bear from him, but he quickly avoided your grasp.
"Did you hide these in the closet because I was coming over?" He asked, eyes analyzing you.
"I don't know what you're talking about," You said, stubbornly crossing your arms.
"I bet they were all on your bed, weren't they? Tell me the truth or the bear gets it," He said, sparks flying from his fingertips.
"Quite down! You're gonna get me in trouble!" You pleaded.
"Better hurry up and tell me then," he said, a smirk growing.
"Ok- Fine, yes! I moved them off my bed because you were coming over. Happy?" You said, giving in to his taunts. You tried to grab for the bear again but he moved the bear away from you once more.
"One more question, is this the first time you've had a boy in your room?" He asked. You felt your face instantly light up with a blush, and you averted your gaze looking at his feet.
"Hm- I'll take that as a yes," He laughed and handed out the bear for you to grab. You grabbed it from his hand, your fingers grazing across his when you did.
"Alright well I'll see you tomorrow, wouldn't want to get you in trouble, you're not supposed to stay up too late," He teased as he made his way back over to your window.
You turned around wanting to call out to him but didn't know what to say. As quickly as he came in, he left you alone in your room once more.
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Thank you for reading! I’m very excited to share this series~
Tags: @unofficialmuilover
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kiyoomi-levin · 2 months
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villain pt.1 (bakugoxf!reader) [NSFW]
a/n this was originally supposed to be a single fic but i wanted to see how ppl liked it lol. pt 2 is already in the making (and i promise it's more spicy than this one)
summary: harley (you) realize that joker (your boyfriend) is in love with batman (bakugo). If only harley also knew batman’s obsessed with her. —> inspired by this short  word count: 4.9k warning(s): bakugo’s literally just a horndog
“I swear, Ren, if you pull anything like that again…”
Your boyfriend rolls his eyes as he pulls away from your grip. 
“Enough, y/n. I always get you out, don’t I?” 
You frown, wrapping your coat tighter around yourself. 
“You try getting caught and being put into jail multiple times in a single month. It’s not funny,” you sigh. 
You don’t even know what it’s like to be tied up by Bakugo fucking Katsuki, you want to add. 
But you keep your mouth shut. 
Ren’s already in a bad mood, jaw clenched tight as he walks faster. You’re almost jogging at this point just to keep up with his pace.
“Asshole,” you mutter under your breath. 
Ren hardly glances at you as the two of you enter your cheap apartment complex, walking silently up the two flights of stairs to your front door.  
You cringe as you round the corner—on your front door is a familiar piece of white paper, the contents of which you already know by heart.
Late rent notice: Dear tenet, your rent was due on the 7th of February. As of the date of this letter, your payment is 4 days past due. 
Frustrated, you rip the paper off of the metal door as Ren reaches over and enters the pin. 
Your jaw drops as he walks inside carelessly, unbothered with the notice. 
The two of you have been dating for almost a year now; you’re long used to his carefree nature. 
That’s what first drew you to him. 
Now it merely disgusts you. 
“Ren,” you cautiously call out as the door shuts behind you, “I think it’s time to give it up.”
Your boyfriend tosses himself onto the wrinkled couch, pointing towards the fridge. Frowning, you head over and grab him a cold beer. 
“Thanks babe.”
You collapse next to him, relishing in the fluffy texture. After being in a holding cell for a few days, you’ve definitely missed the warmth of your home. 
“I know you’re mad, and I understand. But we learned something new from last time, didn’t we? Dynamight was literally showing off his weaknesses! If we just—”
“Ren, stop it! That was the last time. I’m done. Seriously.” 
Your boyfriend is pouting now, reaching over to hold you in his arms. You want to fight back, you should. 
He jumps into his usual rant about how much he hates Dynamight; that asshole, always flaunting his wealth and looks. He’s just a shitty hero with a shitty quirk.
Meanwhile, you’re fighting back tears of frustration. 
How had you gotten here?
A year ago, you had seemingly met the man of your dreams at the villain rehabilitation center (looking back, maybe that hadn’t been the best idea). 
You had been working there as a volunteer and was popular with all of the residents as a bright psychology student and aspiring therapist.
Despite the havoc these wannabe villains had wreaked across Japan, you had treated all of them with kindness and respect, hoping you would be able to make a positive difference in at least a single person’s life. 
How naive you had been. 
“Hey, y/n,” Ren smirks as you gently open the door to the small office. 
You exhale— this one villain has been bothering you more often recently, and he was just too cute for his own good. 
“Takanashi Ren. Your counseling appointment isn’t until later this evening.”
“Aw. I can’t give my favorite therapist a visit?” 
You grin at him, pushing your dark rimmed glasses up your nose. 
“I’m not a therapist yet,” you retort, stepping back as Ren pushes back from his chair, striding over to you. He has you cornered to a wall, and the muscles of his arm flex dangerously, reminding you of his crimes. 
Despite this, all you can notice is how bright his eyes are— gosh, you just love the way they twinkle.
“I’m sure a smart girl like you’ll achieve all your academic dreams. I just hope I’m out of here on time to watch you cross that stage.”
And with that, you’d fallen head over heels for a cringy, third-rate villain with no plans for the immediate future. But the more time you spent with him, you truly felt as though you’d met your match. 
He was intelligent. Witty. Funny. 
Most importantly, he was different. His ideas for a liberated world— where all quirks were considered equal and everyone had the freedom to use their quirks as they wanted— was just unlike what you’d ever considered. 
If only you had paused for a moment and asked him just how he would create that world. 
It had been too late when you had realized what you had gotten yourself into. Now, you spend your days as a college dropout, supporting your boyfriend in his schemes that always end in failure and with you in handcuffs. 
But you had already sworn to devote yourself to him. 
Question. Would you die for me?
Yes.
That’s too easy. Would you live for me?
… Yes.
“y/n, are you listening? We’ll stake out at his condo. I’ll do all the work, babe, you just have to stand watch. I’ve already planned it all out. ”
There it is, that strike of pain in your heart. 
Dynamight. 
That’s all your stupid boyfriend cares about. 
You’re already shaking your head, refusing furiously— but he’s begging, begging! 
… And you sigh and look away. 
“Last. Time.”
You peek out of the corner of your eye to see Ren’s face brighten. 
He really is just as pretty as when you first met him a year ago. 
“I promise, y/n. Last time.”
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Fuck Ren and his promises.
From the moment you had scaled Dynamight’s luxurious condo, you had known your boyfriend had skimped on doing his research again. 
There’s no way we’re gonna get away with this.
Stuffed in a large delivery box, you only pray that Ren’s mailman cosplay is good enough to get through the lobby. 
Nervously holding your breath, you cringe as your boyfriend flirts with the ladies at the front desk and wheels you into the elevator. 
Tap tap tap. 
Three gentle knocks on the front of the box and you know it’s your turn.
“I’ve just disabled the hallway cameras,” Ren whispers as he pulls the box open. 
You step out eagerly, stretching, before turning towards the door. 
The corners of your mouth twitch as you suddenly remember why you hate rich people. 
Dynamight’s door just screams narcissism— who really needs a gold plated front door? 
Bakugo, the nameplate reads. The dreaded name you hear on a near-daily basis. 
You scoff as you reach into your pocket and pull out your decoding tool, placing it on the keypad in a single, practiced motion.
Ren taps his foot impatiently as you work with the machine— you only let out a breath of relief as the door buzzes and swings open what feels like an eternity later. 
You’re already sweating as your heart thumps with discomfort and fear at being at the hero’s homebase. 
Comically, it feels as though the two of you have just broken into a villain’s lair. 
“God, babe. You’re the best,” Ren murmurs, pushing you aside. 
He’s a little too eager to ruin his nemesis’ life. 
Ren rushes inside of Dynamight’s home, barely holding back his immediate laughter as he spots the marble dining table. 
He’s already poking around as you carefully close the door quietly behind you, tiptoeing into the large house. 
“Can you believe this man? He’s so fucking full of himself,” Ren spits as he stares at the various newspaper clippings of Dynamight adoring the bookshelves.
Forget that— if you were Dynamight, you’d be living like this too. 
This is life you had envisioned for yourself. 
Gorgeous white pillars uphold a high ceiling and there’s a leather couch in the center of the room. A giant television sits in front of it, almost mocking you. 
One day… When this was all over, would Ren want to live like this with you?
“Come on, babe. We gotta find the data,” Ren says, heading towards the closest door to him. 
The initial excitement has worn off and he’s now refueled by hatred. 
Right. The data. 
If you could just get your hands on the data of all of the current Japanese heroes, that would be the biggest data breach in the history of the World Heroes Association. 
You and Ren would go down as super villains— a title you still weren’t sure if you wanted. 
You repress these useless thoughts, though, and trail Ren around the large home as he throws open doors. 
“Are you sure he’ll even have it?” 
“Yeah, there’s no way a top hero wouldn’t have access to this— Damn! A basement. You think he’d keep his PC down here?”
You think back to your encounters with Dynamight, shivering as you remember his piercing red eyes meeting yours. 
Your boyfriend heads down without hesitation as you follow him, nearly jumping when he yelps in joy. 
“His computer’s right here.” 
You swallow as you turn your head around the dark basement, eyes not yet adjusted to the dark. 
Ren presses the power button of the computer and the entire room lights up from the bright screen. 
Couch, television, gaming consoles, mini fridge— this must be his man cave. 
“Alright. Get on it, babe,” Ren says, stepping back as the flickering monitor. 
Sighing, you lean down, plug in your trusty usb stick into the PC. This was going to be a long day. 
WARNING. 
You jump for real this time, letting out a surprised shout as the machine blares a loud alarm. 
Holy fuck, what’s going on? 
Before you can move, the heavy door to the basement suddenly slams shut— you hear the metallic locks clicking in place.
You glance at Ren in desperation, but he’s not looking at you, only frowning at the computer.
“Get on with it. We have at least 15 minutes, I’ll find a way out by then.”
You don’t bother protesting. Despite his easy going demeanor, you know Ren cares about you.
“Don’t worry, he’s in Korea for a conference,” he reassures you as he steps towards the staircase.
BOOM. 
You scream as you’re pushed back by an explosion, groaning in pain as you strike the side of Dynamight’s large desk. 
Collapsing on the ground, dust arises on either side of you. 
Your ears are ringing and your vision is hopelessly blurry.
When you muster up the strength to touch your stinging face, you wince as your hand comes back bloody. 
Ren. He was closer to the door. 
Your eyes widen as you roll yourself onto your side, trying to reach up to the chair next to you for help—
“Fucker!” 
You gasp as your vision clears and you take in the sight in front of you.
Dynamight has your boyfriend pressed onto the floor and strikes him in the face, once. Twice. Three times. 
Ren tries to fight back, but he’s basically hopelessly laying there, taking in the blows. 
It’s clear you’ve caught him off duty— Dynamight’s clad in nothing but a tank top and shorts. 
Despite that, he dominates your boyfriend easily. He’s kneeling on Ren’s stomach, one hand pinning down your boyfriend’s shoulder and the other punching his face at a sickening rate. 
You do nothing but watch as you watch Ren’s eyes flicker, then shut. 
Adrenaline courses through your veins, taking away the remaining rationality in you.
Pushing yourself onto your feet, you throw yourself at Dynamight, whose eyebrows merely raise as he registers your face.
You pull out your knife, swinging for his neck— Dynamight throws up his arm, blocking your attempt— before you can react, you’re pinned to the ground next to your boyfriend. 
“You… asshole…” you hiss, airflow momentarily cut off.
You struggle against Dynamight's strength, grimacing. You’re on your stomach, hands pinned behind your back. You try to kick him, but the strength in your legs fails you. 
Dynamight lets out a small laugh as he sits on your ass and your eyes widen as you feel his dick through his pants grinding on you purposefully. 
Fucking pervert. 
You turn your head to your side, glaring into Dynamight’s blood-colored eyes. The corners of his eyes are pointed upwards, he’s grinning madly. 
Leaning forward, Bakugo rests his right hand next to your face. Your immediate reaction is to lunge at it, trying to bite, but he pulls back quickly, yanking on your wrists. Your body arches upwards and you wince at the slight pull. 
“Easy. I don’t wanna hurt you.”
Despite your slowly subsiding anger and hatred towards the man on top of you, you feel yourself blushing against your will. 
You hate how he talks to you. You silently remind yourself to take a recording of it next time and report him for sexual harassment. 
While you’re fuming over your current situation and mumbling profanities at him, Bakugo leans back and admires you.
You look really good like this— actually, you look perfect. Your eyes are slightly moist, cheeks flushed and lips a delectable pink. Bakugo’s mouth is watering at the sight. 
He’s already hard. He’s been aching in anticipation since he first got the alert that you broke into his home. 
What would happen if he were to just… 
You’re staring up at Bakugo again, watery eyes meeting his narrowed ones, and he feels a shiver run down his spine as he admires his reflection in them. 
“Can you let me go already? You’ve won, we get it,” you huff, cheeks inflating. 
He wants to stuff them full with his cock.
Easy, Dynamight. You’re a hero. 
He glances down at you apathetically, although his cock is throbbing. 
You ignore it the best you can, although you’re turning pink again.
You shift from side to side, hoping you won’t have to beg him to let you go. 
You’d rather die than do that.
Smirking, he clicks his tongue as he reaches forward with his right hand and strokes your face. 
“Give me a reason. You’re imposing on my home, doing who knows what?” 
Your teeth find his hand this time, sinking into the hardened flesh.
You bite down as hard as you can, wishing he’d just let go of you. Your jaw is just beginning to ache as you muster the courage to look back up at him.
Your blood runs cold as you notice his unchanging expression— he looks almost bored. But something flashes in his eyes.
Fuck, maybe you shouldn’t have done that. 
As you pull back, you squeak as he grabs you by your hair, sliding forward to sit on your wrists.
One hand holds your head upwards, while his other holds your face. His hand engulfs your entire jaw as he forces you to look into his eyes. 
“I could take you right now, but I’ll save that for later.”
From a distance, you hear the shouts of policemen and the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Bakugo lets go and watches as your head falls back onto the floor.
You’re so caught up in the commotion you don’t catch his next words.
“You’ll be begging for it soon, anyway.”
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You can do nothing but watch in handcuffs as Ren’s eyes open hazily and focus on you. 
“y/n, I’m so sorry,” he starts. 
You shake your head, smiling sadly at him. Was it really over? 
No, you promised you’d always be with him—
“Dynamight.” 
Your boyfriend’s eyes have shifted from you onto Dynamight, the one person that has been on his mind obsessively for the past few years.. 
Ren’s shouting at Dynamight now, who merely laughs in response. 
You don’t even notice that Dynamight’s staring at you.  
All you notice is that you’re not in Ren’s line of sight anymore. 
The words of policemen and Ren start swirling together as your heartbeat slows.
He’s not in love with you, is he?
You can hear your heart physically shattering.
He’s in love with Dynamight.
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Bakugo’s still embarrassingly hard as he readjusts himself, sighing as he looks around his ransacked home. 
The police have taken longer than he’d hoped, making sure to photograph everything.
Even more irritatingly, the medics had tried to heal your teeth marks imprinted in his arm, which he had pulled away quickly. 
“I’m going to save this as evidence during the trial,” Bakugo had quickly lied. 
The young medic had blinked in confusion, but nodded eagerly, not wanting to defy the number one hero’s demand.
When his agency had first received the tip that you and Whiplash would be attempting a data breach, Bakugo had rolled his eyes and hesitated on flying back in early from his vacation.
You and Whiplash were shitty, third-rate villains, if you could be even labeled as such. 
You would always be deserted by your boyfriend, who’d dip the moment Bakugo stepped close to the crime scene. You (with your gorgeous, angered face that turns him on so fast) would be left behind for Bakugo to handcuff. 
Bakugo still remembers the first time he’d been called to a scene with you and Whiplash. 
One year ago, two petty, new criminals had attempted to rob a series of homes in upper Tokyo. 
Bakugo had been whisked away from his date with a pretty newscaster and was irritated to hell— he had been working all night sweet talking to the girl and was surely going to get laid— but when he had gotten to the scene, still pulling on his gloves, all thoughts of regret flew out the window.
“Get me the fuck out of here!” 
The female villain is shouting as she kicks her legs. 
The scene is laughable— her upper half is tapped in the tights washing machine and Bakugo takes his sweet time striding over to you, admiring the curve of your ass and the way you shake as you try to free yourself. 
“What happened here?” 
Bakugo smirks. He’d heard that the male villain had gotten away but the female was still somewhere on the premises. 
He’d been incredibly lucky to find you first. It’s hard to hold back from slapping your ass and ripping those black tights off of you, but Bakugo swallows and moves to touch your hip instead.
You squeak in surprise as you feel two fingers tracing a triangle onto your upper thigh. 
“Stop touching me, pervert! You sick freak! I have a boyfriend! I’ll kill you if you try anything!” 
Your scream is slightly muffled as you bang your hands on the sides of the circular machine.
Your back is aching from being bent over for the past ten minutes and you arch your back, holding back a pained moan. Whoever this asshole was, you were gonna rip him a new one when he freed you. 
Bakugo frowns as ‘boyfriend’ echoes inside his head. 
Were you being truthful or were you just trying to scare him off? 
It’s taking everything in him to not grind against you and with every passing second Bakugo feels closer to losing the battle with his sex driven core.
After another moment of deliberation, Bakugo reaches out, yanking you effortlessly out of the machine. 
God. 
You were just as pretty as he’d hoped. Face flushed and sweaty from being inside a confined space for so long, you collapse on your ass and fan yourself dramatically, taking in big gulps of fresh air before looking up to glare at him. 
“Fucking freak! What sort of perverted police officer are you?” You demand, frowning as Bakugo silently holds his hand out. 
A few seconds of silence pass before you awkwardly take it, allowing him to help you up. 
“Thank you,” you mumble as you wipe your hands on your shirt. 
Your eyebrows are still furrowed with frustration as you bite the inside of your cheek. 
Ugh… you’re so adorable, Bakugo wants to just squeeze you to death. 
Now he really wishes he hadn’t helped you out. You were helpless, bent over just perfectly, practically inviting him…. As his imagination runs wild, he feels the blood rushing towards his groin. 
Oblivious, you stretch your sore body, letting out a soft moan. You’re strangely relaxed, as if you were simply meeting an old friend. 
“I’m going to be arresting you now. Turn around,” Bakugo sighs, shifting his balance from foot to foot. If only he wasn’t an up-and-coming hero.
Your eyebrows raise and the ends of your lips quirk upwards. 
“Isn’t there something else I could do to get out of this?” You tease, turning around and holding your wrists behind your back.
Fuck. Is that you wiggling your ass or is he just seeing things? 
Bakugo’s breath hitches. The cold cuffs in his hands are only furthering his imagination. He’s about to pounce on you, but as he’s deciding which piece of your clothing he’ll rip away first—
“Don’t get any ideas, perv. That was a joke.” 
You giggle at his silence, looking back to glance at his face, which pales in humiliation.
You’re still laughing as Bakugo curses under his breath and shoves you harshly into the police car. 
You wouldn’t be laughing when he fucks you silly—which, he swears, he will one day. 
Since your destined meeting, you had been on Bakugo’s mind. 
Every. Single. Day. 
Your pout. Your delicate hands. Your arching back. Your whines and the way you try to fight back every time he walks you to the police van.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t just a phase.
To Bakugo’s horror, when he met up with the same newscaster from that night, he found himself unable to get hard, no matter how much she sucked him off. 
He could have waved that off as an anomaly, but six girls later, Bakugo finally had to admit he may have a problem on his hands. 
Bakugo knew the solution to his ED and meaningless infatuation with you.
He was sure all he had to do was fuck you. Easy enough— he’s confident in his sex appeal.
But you were also an impossible target.
You and your villain boyfriend moved around constantly, living under various aliases. 
And when Bakugo could finally meet you (about once a month, when your boyfriend’s plans were foiled once again) you were whisked off into police custody before he could even bring up sex. 
How was he even supposed to get to that topic, anyways? 
Hey, y/n. I only get hard when I see you cry. Or, actually, when I just think about you at all. 
Wanna bang?
Bakugo halfheartedly (almost unconsciously, this is just an immediate reaction to seeing you) discards his shorts and briefs as he leans against the back of the couch. 
Staring up at the ceiling, he’s now regretting letting his agency call for backup. 
He’d had you under him, in his own home. He even had a condom ready in his shorts— something he’s started carrying around since last year in hopes he’d get ambushed by you randomly.
It’s unfortunate he couldn’t take things further with you, but for tonight, his imagination and thoughts of you would have to suffice. 
He almost saw you cry…
Bakugo’s almost drooling at the memory of your teary eyes as you stared at your boyfriend, who was dragged away into the back of a van despite his protests.
Fuck. What does he have to do to make you cry? 
He throughout beating up Whiplash would be enough, but maybe you didn’t like your boyfriend as much as he thought— that makes him smile. 
“Ugh…” 
Bakugo can barely hold back a soft moan as his cock hardens quickly, now standing in his hand. 
It’s hot, and typically Bakugo would shed all his clothes, but tiny specks of your blood decorate his white top. It’s like you’re basically touching him.
He admires the bruising teeth prints on his right hand, the one that’s now slowly stroking his dick. 
Your mouth was on his hand. His hand. The thought alone makes him want to cum.
Bakugo allows himself a full stroke, groaning as he presses himself deeper into the couch.
It almost feels as if he’s simply overstimulating himself, as if he’d already cum— that’s how strong you were as a stimulus. 
With how much you tease, you’d start with the tip, wouldn’t you? 
Bakugo gently holds his cock at the base with his left hand and thumbs the tip, rubbing his rough thumb against the wet precum. 
He’d manhandle you, he’s imagined it countless times, it’s what a girl like you needs. 
In his imagination, you’d be a pillow princess. He’s confident about this. 
Your attitude, the way you demand he frees you… it all points towards you being a menace in bed.
You would saunter into the bedroom, wearing nothing but thin lingerie (in his favorite color, dark orange, almost red). You’d smirk as you climb onto his bed, making yourself comfortable. 
Your pretty eyes would narrow as he walks in shirtless with a raging boner. 
You would be sitting there, legs outstretched for him to grasp. 
Bakugo would grab your ankles in each hand, focusing on kissing your precious feet before moving upwards. 
He’d press his lips against your shin, your knee, then suck your plush thighs, savoring your taste. 
He’d maintain his eyes on you throughout, admiring the way your lips part slightly and your heavy breaths. You’d glare at him when you notice him staring at you— you’re always fighting back, aren’t you?
But in bed he’s the one in control. 
He’d get to your panties and give your clothed clit a lick, pinning down your legs that threaten to close. 
Bakugo would suck, embracing the taste of lace and your juices leaking from across the other side of clothing. 
Contrary to popular belief, Bakugo wasn’t that full of himself. 
In bed, he only has one priority— your pleasure. 
Bakugo allows himself to slightly loosen his grip and start stroking his entire length slowly, just like how you’d do it. 
Just a few singular strokes feel so good, his entire body lights up, electricity running up his spine. 
He runs his thumb along the one long vein from the base of his cock, shivering. His cock is getting heavier in his hand and a familiar pressure is slowly building in his stomach. 
After a few moments, Bakugo would finally push aside the flimsy fabric, licking your clit directly. 
He’d be fisting his cock while doing so, like he’s doing now, stroking to the rhythm of his flattened tongue. 
He’d be almost drooling at the taste, sometimes letting himself wander to your hole and slip his tongue in your tightness. He’d continue alternating between sucking and licking, relishing in your increasingly loud moans. 
Your legs would begin to tremble beneath him and you’d start begging quietly despite your stubbornness.
Your eyes would start to roll to the back of your head— and that’s when he’d stop, pulling away entirely, still stroking himself, tightening his fist around his heat if necessary to prevent himself from releasing. 
You’d whine and maybe kick him, legs weakened from your ruined orgasm. 
A little edging never hurt anyone. 
It only makes the pleasure of a shared orgasm stronger. 
Bakugo would tease your hole, nudging at the entrance with the tip of his leaking cock. 
Without warning, he’d thrust— you’d groan from the intrusion, grasping the sheets. 
He’d start moving mercilessly, pulling out his length to the tip before slamming it back in, over and over. He would quicken with your moans fueling his pace. 
He’d lean over to capture your pretty lips with his, intertwining your tongues. 
Fuck, Bakugo really isn’t going to last, especially with his new favorite mental photograph—you lying on your back helplessly. Bakugo’s mind does the photoshop for him, removing the debris from the explosion and placing the two of you on his bed.
He’s stroking himself fervently now, at the same pace he imagines himself fucking you at. 
You’d be shaking under him, holding back your tears. And, in typical y/n fashion, your pride would force you to hold your moans back. You’d be pressing your trembling hand against your mouth, wouldn’t you? You would be biting down on it, with the same teeth that were clamped down on his own hand earlier.
You’d cum as he rubs his thumb roughly against your clit, eyes rolling to the back of your head, mouth dropping open. 
Bakugo would make sure to ride you out throughout the entirety of your orgasm before allowing himself to fall into how tight and wet you are and reaching his peak himself. 
“y/n… I’m cumming…” 
Bakugo bites back a groan as his eyes close, lips almost breaking from how hard he’s clenching down. 
Continuing to pump, Bakugo’s hips lift as he thrusts into his fist one final time—his orgasm is so strong, it feels as though he’s losing control of his entire body, shaking as he feels his cum squirt and his cock pulsing from the base. 
When Bakugo finally gathers his energy, he opens his eyes, blinking uncomfortably at the harsh lights of the living room. There’s warm cum now cooling all over his hands and the coffee table in front of him, only adding to the list of things he has to clean up after your little home invasion. 
Sighing, Bakugo stands up, grabbing a tissue and wiping the traces of his release away. 
It’s a little humiliating.
Yet another day of having to imagine you writhing under him to get off. 
Bakugo won’t admit it— he never will— but honestly, it’s not as bad as he makes it out to be.
But he knows the real thing will be better. 
Now, if only he could get his hands on you… 
a/n yeah so i rewrote this whole thing on 4 hours of sleep so its prob shit and the formatting is wonky but whatevs.
STAN ENHYPEN STREAM SWEET VENOM (ENG VER)
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