diesukitsuki

[diesukitsuki]

he’s not “just some guy” he’s my girlfriend. don’t touch him.

[diesukitsuki]

😧 me when i log back in

[diesukitsuki]

god, i need to slut out bakugou.

[diesukitsuki]

some Mechanic! Bakugou that no one asked for but I know you all want.

[diesukitsuki]

Always so confused whenever I receive constructive criticism because I’ve never made a single mistake in my life??? What are you talking about

[diesukitsuki]

i gotta remember that if i don’t feel like writing i dont have to do it

[diesukitsuki]

I just need Bakugou to be on top of me, man. The idea of having his weight on me sounds like fucking therapy.

All my problems would be solved if that beefy ass mother fucker just laid on my chest.

Like, I need to be surrounded by him. I need to feel smooth skin against mine, be suffocated by his smell, and feel myself burn alive under his warmth. I need to have his face close by mine so i can cherish it and kiss it. I need him close by so bad. Need that man to anchor me, fr.

[diesukitsuki]

hyperfixating on this is not enough i need to eat it

[diesukitsuki]

Forgot to post it here, lol I made a wallpaper for my sis bday

but she said I can share it! feel free to use it for wallpaper but pls don’t repost my art!

[diesukitsuki]

you’re mad at bakugo for something he did but that i dont specify. he does not speak. 

i want to write normal things so badly. 

(warning: not as detailed as i wanted it to be. genderneutral)

-

“Listen to me.”

You are seething. Metaphoric red flames wrapping tight around your torso, the heat that roils from your core almost visible in a make-believe steam that surrounds you.

Bakugo doesn’t often see this side of you. The doused frown, the scolding, mean eyes. He is enraptured by your beauty daily, of course, from the crease of your smiles to the curves of your hips, but there are so few moments when soft turns to scalding and your pretty smile turns into that potent frown. 

He looks down at his hands. Thumbs twiddling, he feels like his father. 

“You can be such a jerk sometimes,” you blink, looking down to where he sits like you are laying reign to the land. “A real piece of work.”

He nods, mindlessly, not lost but purposely unfocused, swimming somewhere in a trail of thoughts that are your mouth, your angry, passionate eyes, your fidgeting, pointed hands; one on your hip. 

He is the land. 

“You really hurt my feelings, you know that?”

He thinks about what he said. He doesn’t really remember it, but he knows that it stung, caused your face to fall and warmth to shoot to his groin as your nose crinkled in a harmed form of disgust and you shoved a finger in his face. 

There is regret in the back of his mind, but there is also anticipation and reward. He thinks of all the times he has pulled on your shirt, and in return, the ways you have tripped on the wire of his temper. There is hurt there, yes, but there is also forgiveness, an explosion much in the form of waking up together after a night of your legs around his hips, his hands in your hands, and the curve of your ass in the valley of his—

“Bakugo?” 

Groin.

That shoots a bolt of something right up his spine. His eyes snap to yours. 

“Are you fucking… hard?” 

There is a gasp in your words, a high pitched lilt. Your eyes are wide, your brow is creased, and unlike five minutes before, your pissed-off expression is bleeding into shock. You look almost amused. 

Bakugo doesn’t stutter. But he stutters in a hitched breath. Looks down to the slight tent in his pants next to his hands that are bunched in the pockets. 

He thinks of your mean glare. Your fruitless complaints. The scratches that are bound to be on his back by morning. He smiles sharply. He nods. 

[diesukitsuki]

[diesukitsuki]

WELCOME BACK BB 💖💖💖💖💖💕💕💕💜💜💜🌸❤

OMG THANK YOU 🥹❤️ It’s good to see you !!

[diesukitsuki]

i was gonna write about like.. Bakugou just getting his heart torn to shreds bc see the person he loves get fucked by someone else.

[diesukitsuki]

i keep going back to this thought of like adult, pro-hero, brick-wall-of-a-man bakugou still being just so insecure. like he works hard for his body and he's not stupid, he knows that it's strong and is what it needs to be for his line of work, for being a pro, for protecting those that he loves—but he's always had an issue with...people.

yeah, as an older man, that's fallen away some and he's learned to let go of all the little battles he wants to start, how to ignore challenges that aren't there, but he's still bakugou, and people have this perception of him and his personality and attitude and he knows it's not unfounded, but...what good is there to say about him, really? that he's got a fit body? big fucking whoop.

a hot body isn't what's gonna keep you around.

and it's frustrating, because you smile at him and laugh at the shitty things he says and you forgive him, even when he can't apologize, and you understand the space he just needs sometimes. there are days when he wants to sleep alone because he'd done it all of his life, until you came around, and there are days he doesn't want to speak—to you or anybody—because every little thing is grating on his nerves, there are days when he wants to get out of the house and fuck off to hike, somewhere far without cell service, and only come back once he's sweaty and tired and in need of a shower.

and that's—he's not stupid. who wants to put up with that? him, and all that he entails? all you have to just accept, because he doesn't know how to change it.

it's not as if he doesn't want to spend time with you; some days that's all he wants. your attention, your touch, your little affections, your approval. a reminder that you do still love him, even after everything, and yeah, you say it every night and every morning and before you hang up the phone, but—what about all the times in between? even when he wants to be alone, he still thinks about you, too much maybe, for how much space he's willingly created for himself.

the face you make when you eat something too soon from the oven or when you pretend not to cry at some stupid movie. the shirt you wore last thursday and how well the color looked against your skin. how warm you are first thing in the morning, when he rolls over to make sure you're still there. what you smell like right out of the shower—do you smell like him, on the days you wear his shirts out of the house? does it make you think about him, too, all day? do you even like the way he smells or the way he dresses? how he cuts his hair or the shoes he wears on casual days, when he doesn't have to go work and he's not having dinner with his witch of a mother?

you're...attracted to him. right? gotta be, because if you aren't then all you have is his personality and that—there's just no fucking way. you've gotta be, because you kiss him and touch him and bother him in the shower and sometimes he looks at you across the table and you're giving him this look that drives him fucking crazy and—he's just bad at asking for things, for anything. 'specially for you.

sometimes you make him feel like a virgin fucking schoolboy, that doesn't know how to touch or be touched and so he does petty shit, little things that are supposed to drive you crazy, too. not like he really knows for sure, because the minute you look too long when he's shirtless, he wants to launch his own embarrassing ass off a cliff. he'll never admit to it, but yeah, he eats strawberries that way on purpose, messy while watching you, and he stands at the edge of your bed in a low-slung towel until he's nearly dry, just furthering some mindless conversation so that you'll stay awake and looking at him. when he's at the gym, he'll send a snapchat he took way too long posing for, just to respond with a "yeah", or he'll pretend he doesn't know why it's a big deal that he decided to forgo boxer briefs under his sweatpants.

bakugou wants to be wanted, but he doesn't know how to make himself worth wanting, and doesn't know how to ask either—but he's learning; placing his face between your shoulderblades when he wants you to turn to him in bed, resting his forehead on your knee when he's sorry and can't say why, drawing a heart on a sticky note, quick and shitty, before he has time to get embarrassed, nipping at the skin under your earlobe when he wants you, the blush on his cheeks probably searing into the skin of your neck.

insecure but trying, trusting. isn't that what love is anyway?

[diesukitsuki]

okay. lets try and write again. 💪

[diesukitsuki]

the weird pressure to write smut for anyone to click on your fic is a very real thing and the lack of engagement with sfw pieces is also real so if you think you're bugging out about that, you're not

that's not to say you can't write sfw content. it's just that your sfw content is held to a much higher standard in my experience than nsfw. the most bare bones nsfw will do better almost always than even very long sfw pieces with few exceptions.

it's one of those writer growing pains you deal with and i never see it talked about - mostly because i don't think it's anyones fault. people read what they wanna read, but if you're an author, i want you to know i see you and understand.

and people will still read you sfw content. the pool will be smaller but given there's more plot or more concept, people will still engage. still, don't feel too bad if your sfw stuff doesn't do as good as you wanted and write for yourself. don't force it if you don't have to and know it doesn't speak to your capabilities as an author

[diesukitsuki]

alright goodbye again 😏