obikin au feat. anakin’s abysmal topping skills in which anakin and padme are a couple and while anakin is very hot and very cute and very eager, he's also not really good in bed but padme is too polite to tell him that. so she suggests they go to such a sex party/club to idk spice up their sex life and maybe secretly hopes that anakin learns a trick or two
anakin is obviously not very into the idea because as we all know he doesn't like to share but he goes because padme asks him to. he's tense and unhappy all the way there and once they get there, and it's awkward and uncomfortable and he hates so much how comfy padme seems, staying close to him but talking to other people, casually touching them, letting them touch her.
and then he makes eye contact across the room with obi-wan. obi-wan just smiles and nods slightly at him or something, just a minimal acknowledgement, and anakin is suddenly on fire, he even forgets about padme for a moment. he doesn’t know who that man is, doesn’t know his name, doesn’t know anything about him but something about him, something about having his attention, sets anakin’s whole being alight.
he starts to look for that stranger later that night because. well, he doesn't even really know why, he doesn't know him, they've never talked, and he's here with his girlfriend, who has her arm hooked through his. and then he spots obi-wan again
and either obi-wan is reclined on a chaise lounge or something, shirt opened and revealing his chest, while there's some guy on his knees in front of him giving him a blowjob. obi-wan has one arm draped over the back of the lounge and the other in the guy's hair, skipping between grabbing it and carding through it, and anakin is close enough that he can hear obi-wan praising the guy in a gentle, husky voice. he has a crisp accent and he’s speaking utter filth so softly that anakin’s toes curl from that alone. and then obi-wan looks up and their eyes meet again. anakin can't look away and obi-wan doesn't break eye contact either, seemingly holding anakin in place, while anakin can’t do anything but watch, enthralled, turned on, jealous, as obi-wan gets sucked off. and when obi-wan murmurs “good boy”, anakin could swear he’s talking to him.
anakin feels things he’s pretty sure he hasn’t felt before. he’s transfixed. he wants to be that guy on his knees, he wants those strong fingers in his hair and to have that stranger praise him. he wants his undivided attention. wants his hands, his voice, his cock, he wants to be good, he wants he want he wants. he even could be!! theoretically. padme suggested they come here and she left the option open to...explore other people.
AND/OR anakin finds obi-wan going down on a woman. and anakin is still/again feeling things. padme notices obi-wan too, notices the woman who looks like she’s seeing through time and space, and well, guess she found a teacher for anakin in obi-wan. padme approaches obi-wan, introduces herself, introduces anakin (who is losing his mind), and she asks if obi-wan would be willing to teach anakin how to do whatever obi-wan did to that woman. when obi-wan looks at him, it feels like anakin is burning up from the inside out.
it ends with obi-wan sitting by anakin's side and quietly telling him what to do, how and when to do it while anakin goes down on padme, and yeah, anakin very much does lose his mind. the way obi-wan says his name, the soft rasp of his voice, the accent, when he praises anakin for doing something well, anakin almost comes on the spot.
after that, anakin isn’t as uncomfortable about the sex club anymore. he keeps coming back, keeps seeking out obi-wan, keeps soaking up every ounce of attention he gets from him and it’s--so good. by the time he actually asks obi-wan to fuck him, he feels like he’s cheating. he’s not, technically, she’s here, and she’s even watching them, but it’s--it’s not just sex, and anakin knows it.
and so when obi-wan cups anakin’s throat to bend his head back so he can press his lips against his ear and ask, “will you think about me when you fuck her?” (it’s a question but it sounds like an order) on a particularly delicious thrust forward, all anakin can say is “yes”
167 notes
·
View notes
cw: questionable reader, infidelity, reader is engaged to izuku, fem!reader. mention of alcohol and smoking. violence and deceit. brief smut with dubious consent. minors dni.
summary: reader looks for excitement and gets more than she bargained for.
a/n: this is... something lmfao. heed the warnings.
you’re greedy.
here you are, with a pricey ring on your finger, in a posh little apartment that is decorated head to toe with the things you like and never had to pay for, and with a lease you’ve never seen nor signed, looking directly at a framed photo of your eventually-husband on the wall. it’s the cover page from an old shoot of izuku’s that you’ve always thought was particularly sexy and encouraged him to make for you.
it doesn’t have the same effect, you realize.
not because you don’t find your fiancé attractive anymore - that’s far from the truth - but because you’ve decided that all of this is... too easy.
izuku loves you too much. he’s sweet. he’s kind. he makes time for you even though he’s often busy. you are the moon and the stars to him and would do anything to make you happy.
something about that is... boring, you think.
turning over on your bed, you scroll through your social media on a burner account you hold - the one that lets you creep on all the pro heroes that you’ve ever considered. pro hero cellophane seems to be dating a new girl these days that he thinks is probably too good for him but who he’s definitely too good for, chargebolt and mindjack appear to be going strong as usual, and ingenium remains happily married to pro hero uravity.
you continue to scroll, and then you see him. pro hero dynamight.
foul-tempered despite having a good heart, and with a scowl to contend with your partner’s classic winning smile, you can’t conceal your own smile creeping to your lips as you click on his handle and go through his pictures.
you’ve always wondered what it would be like... if it were him instead of izuku. after all, if there was such a long childhood rivalry, it must be for a reason, right? katsuki bakugou - the name rolls off your tongue as you lay in bed, and you append it to yours instead of midoriya. it sounds better, you think. he is better for you, perhaps.
your mouth twists as you look at the your engagement ring. it catches the light as your hand moves.
perhaps. if you’ve caught one’s eye, perhaps you can catch the other you’ve always thought.
after all, you run into katsuki at the store today, and for once, just once, he smiled at you.
---
izuku has been overseas for a month by now. the video calls and text messages have remained the same level of consistent, every day and twice on sunday, and he’s sent you postcards, many of which apologize for not being there and others making it very clear that he would want nothing more than to hold you close. you’re most fond of the presents - expensive shoes and clothing, makeup, anything that you ask for to keep yourself looking well-maintained - although you still do appreciate how sweet he is when he calls you in the middle of the night, and how that rapidly shifts to a more hungry, dominant tone in the early am.
but you’ve realized you like bakugou’s voice better.
“you come around here often?” he says in a low tone, as he catches you on your daily run through the park down the street from your highrise. you laugh, coyly as you stop and thank the heavens that you picked this particular outfit that accentuates your best assets.
“you know i live here, don’t you?”
he grins, and you’re blinded by white teeth in the early morning sun.
“yeah, i’m well aware midoriya moved you in here.”
you scrunch your face. it’s that classic rude behavior that stings but perhaps can soften over time. maybe you’ll be more partial to it when he’s fucking you.
“he did so kindly move me here, but i have my own money, you know,” you say, sweetly. bakugou tilts his head to the side, and you keep your smile even, batting your eyelashes ever so slightly. it’s irresistible and you watch his eyes glide over you carefully before he catches himself.
“can i continue my run, mr. dynamight?” you ask, skirting past him. accidentally bumping into him, you apologize, but you deliberately hold onto his bicep. it’s a trained move. you’ve done it on midoriya enough times to know that it works.
you don’t say anything else to each other - bakugou makes some noncommittal sound and decides he’s no longer interested in the conversation - but you figure some progress has been made as you run off, making sure he has a good view of you from the back.
---
bakugou is hard to break, but he leaves just enough hints that you can crack him. after all, since you’ve met in the neighborhood, he seems to pop up everywhere you are, to the point that you’ve teased him about potentially stalking you.
“i don’t think izuku would like how much time you’re spending around me,” you finally tease. you are sipping from a martini at a bar, again not too far from your highrise, enough that you can stumble back home together and make a very serious mistake (or not). bakugou’s drink is surprisingly sweet - an amaretto stone sour - and you tease him endlessly for it.
“it’s good,” he replies, gruffly, not looking at you. he downs it quickly, and you think perhaps a couple more of those will get him drunk and honest.
"midoriya doesn’t care about much other than hero work,” bakugou says.
you raise an eyebrow slightly at the implication that your fiancé does not care where you go or what you do. and yet here you are, on a friday evening with #2, hoping that perhaps he will look at you the same way your partner does.
“like you do?” you joke, laughing. the tilt of bakugou’s head is just teasing enough at this angle and you remember that he is quite charming despite all of his supposed faults.
“i’m here with you tonight, aren’t i?”
you don’t have a comeback for that. instead, you shift, and then you move in a little, and he moves in too, and your lips meet.
---
when clothes come off and your phone turns off, for a minute, you consider just how wrong this is. after all your partner hasn’t done anything wrong except be himself, and now you’ll probably miss his calls to sleep with his friend.
and yet when katsuki stuffs himself inside you and his fingers intertwine with yours, it’s very hard to imagine that anything else matters. what matters is this moment, right now, where katsuki has also noticed you, and also dreamt of pleasuring you, and doesn’t care about risking his reputation or his friendship for your sake... it feels like something you don’t want to wake up from.
katsuki gives you round after round, and by the final time you’ve tipped over the edge, you have a single second of clarity.
your phone hasn’t rung the entire night. there’s an odd feeling in the pit of your stomach once you realize this, stress exuding from your body like the fluid (cum and all) seeping out of your legs.
when you turn, katsuki is lighting a cigarette, something that surprises you. no pro hero you’ve ever met does this, and especially not so casually, given that they usually make sure to keep their bodies in tip-top shape.
or at least look like they’re doing so.
“you... smoke?”
he almost looks shocked you asked. you blink, pulling your bedsheets to cover your chest instinctively, but continue laying on your side. katsuki crosses his legs at the ankle and lays comfortably. he glances at the picture of izuku across the room, and you look at his face carefully for any type of remorse. there is none. rather than remorse, there’s more a curiosity.
“does he treat you well?” katsuki asks.
you swallow hard. considering katsuki’s lips were just closed around your nipple a few minutes ago it’s an extremely odd question.
“...” you can’t bring yourself to say no, but you also don’t think saying yes is appropriate given the circumstances. so instead you say nothing.
katsuki pulls you closer to lay against his body, still staring at the picture dispassionately. you squirm a little against him, but he’s warm. he feels somewhat safe. somewhat.
perhaps this feeling will change with time. after all, you’ve been with izuku for years. it’s bound to feel different having a different man in your bed.
you remain hopeful, and you fall asleep.
---
pro hero dynamight is not beside you in the morning, but before you can panic and consider yourself used, you hear tinkering outside the room, and the thought occurs to you that perhaps he needed to use the bathroom, or even better, was kind enough to make breakfast.
thinking about the incredible sex you had from last night brings warmth to your cheeks, but when you look up and see izuku’s picture, you quickly avert your eyes to check your phone on the end table.
no missed calls. no texts.
odd.
for a moment you wonder if something may have happened to him, if perhaps some karmic curse meant injury befell him and that’s why he hasn’t called you, but you quickly shake that thought from your head. you are by no means superstitious. you are allowed to fall out of love with someone.
perhaps not in this particular way, but izuku will get over it. someday.
you still feel like you should check in, however. sitting up, you wonder how logistically you can call him - should you wait for katsuki to leave or text him now and risk him calling you?
while you are contemplating, you get a phone call...
from katsuki.
not the fake number he’s been using to contact you all this time, but his actual one, the one you and izuku both have.
furrowing your eyebrows, you pick up the phone, and it really is him, his voice, and you wonder why he hasn’t just walked back in to talk to you.
“hey ____, deku got caught up with something and the nerd wants me to make sure you’re safe-”
you cut him off in confusion.
“wait, what are you talking about? aren’t you just in the kitchen?”
katsuki pauses and the pit you had in your stomach earlier seems to double in size. you can faintly hear the water still running in the kitchen and footsteps shuffling around.
“... what the hell are you on about?” he asks.
your heart starts to pound.
“babe, don’t be silly we just made love.”
there’s a very pregnant pause on the phone, and then katsuki clears his throat.
he doesn’t ask why you called him babe, and you try desperately to come up with an explanation for the extremely impartial tone he has on the phone. your throat is going dry the entire time, blood running cold from your fingertips to your toes.
“what the fuck are you talking about? why would i ever...?”
“s-so you haven’t been here?”
“are you fucking insane? i just came back from osaka last night.” he replies, incredulous.
a sound comes out of you that sounds like a whimper and it’s fear. bakugou is still ranting at the other end of the line but you catch only some of it.
“hold on, i’m just gonna ask midoriya to call you because i have no idea who the fuck you’re calling babe but i’d rather stay out of it.”
the pit in your stomach triples and you start calculations in your head.
if that’s not katsuki, then who is-
the footsteps are approaching now and you quickly hang up, pushing your phone into the cabinet, smiling sweetly at not-katsuki who’s finally returned.
“did you sleep well?” he asks. now that you look again, his red irises don’t look right, flat and soulless compared to bakugou’s natural vitality.
what’s more concerning is not-katsuki’s hands are behind his back.
you’re unable to conceal your sudden terror, and tremble as you answer:
“y-yes.”
not-katsuki has finally realized that you’ve picked up that he’s not who he says he is. a smile unfurls, and then the disguise melts away slowly as whoever the fuck you just fucked reveals knives sharpened to a point and a hole lot of rope.
you’re too terrified to scream.
“i didn’t think this disguise would work,” he chuckles as he approaches. “i always thought the pro heroes were the best of friends.”
frozen in place, you think of a way to escape, but nothing comes to mind. instead you are naked, vulnerable, confused and trapped in a web of your own making.
your phone starts to ring, the vibration reverberating through the wood in the cabinet.
the villain smiles, and his teeth are no longer perfect and white, and your future is suddenly uncertain.
“good thing, you’re a dirty little whore.”
246 notes
·
View notes
carlando + infidelity
inspired by conversations with sionis j, the only other bitch here who appreciates infidelity
Carlos fixes his hair, inspecting the blooming bite mark Lando left on his shoulder as he came. Carlos always chides him for that. No marks, Landito, Carlos would warn or he'd flip him over so the only thing Lando could bite on is the pillow. But Carlos is too much of a romantic to not look him in the eyes as he comes, and Lando can't stand the weight of those big brown eyes -- completely blown on -- on him, which is how they land in this exact predicament every time.
"Y'know when, when I was with Luisa," Lando tries to say casually, fails, sounds hesitant instead. Carlos hums to show he's listening, so Lando continues, "She--we all messed around, right? Like me. And her. And Max. My Max, I mean. And she didn't mind, we were cool. So maybe, you could tell Isa. About us. And it would be cool."
Carlos turns to where Lando is sprawled on the couch, watching him. He takes a seat in the space between his legs, and moves forward to touch the side of Lando's flushed face, who leans into the touch. Carlos tenderly strokes a thumb against his cheek.
"And why... would I do that?" Carlos murmurs, voice low and patronizing, like Lando is a child who just said something outlandish. It stings as gentle his his touch is.
"So we don't have to... hide. We went on double dates. She liked Luisa. Maybe she wouldn't mind and we wouldn't have to sneak around." Lando's voice had whittled down quieter, losing confidence the longer Carlos stared at him scrutinising. He also never realized how Isa and Luisa sounded so similar. They had become fast friends, their girls, and when they went on doubles dates together Carlos' hand found it's way on Lando's thigh as they both sat across their respective girlfriends, and Lando had to try not react publicly.
"Lanno," Carlos sighs, the way he says his name exasperated, he does place a hand on his shoulder. "I am going to marry Isabella one day. Telling her would hurt her unnecessarily. Why do you want to hurt her?"
Mate, you're the one cheating on your girlfriend! Lando wants to say, but can't. He's the other woman in that situation, he has no legs to stand on. The promise to marry her in some distant future hurts in some vague way, even if Lando has known about it.
"What we have... is special, no?" Carlos probes gently, his hand digging on the bruise he left on Lando's collarbone, freshly single with no qualms about visible hickeys. It forces Lando to look at Carlos' sincere, warm, honey eyes and Lando finds himself wordlessly nodding along.
"Put these silly thoughts out of your beautiful head." Carlos leans in to kiss him, cradling his face, and no one in Lando's life -- not his Raya hookups, the gentleness of Luisa, the rushed desperation from Max -- no one kisses him with as much fervour and desire as Carlos does. One could mistake it for love.
"Hello, Lando." Isa hugs Lando -- ice shoots in his veins, wracked with guilt --, as Carlos invited him for his birthday dinner. With his girlfriend. Isa who has known Lando for years, treats him like a little brother, and is generally lovely to him every time they've met. He can barely look at her in the eyes, remembering what he did with her man hours prior. Carlos slides in the booth so Lando is one side, and Isa by his other, birthday boy in the middle with his cake.
96 notes
·
View notes