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ihadlife · 8 days

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Achilles' Heel

pairing: (aged up) pro hero!Bakugo Katsuki x fem!reader

word count: 10.2k

synopsis: You and Bakugo aren't dating, so you can't be really mad when he's toying with you. What you can be, though, is miserable. Especially when you get laid off from work. And to whose else's arms can you run into other than the person who's hurting you the most.

tags: 18+, adult content, fem!reader, fem gendered pronouns and pet names, angst, so much fucking angst, baby trapping, unprotected sex, dumbification, masturbation, dom/sub dynamics, dirty talking, oral sex (male and female receiving), praise kink, degradation kink, impact play, unrequited love, reader and other people smoke, reader has crippling mommy issues and self-isolates, the worst possible decisions ever made at all times, toxicity contest between reader and Bakugo i guess

an: crossposted on ao3. reader makes decisions so bad i wanted to smack her head against concrete all the time. if you're reading this for the smut i suggest you skip this one, it's not centered around it. it was pain in the ass to write bakugo’s direct speech but if it doesn’t make sense from an accent standpoint i’m begging you let me know and i’ll adjust it. and as always, english is my second language so if you spot any mistakes or even typos pls let me know.

“I get that he was like… busy, and probably exhausted after, but he could’ve sent me a message at least, you know?”

“Yeah, I’ve been telling you he’s a dick.”

Your best friend inhaled the cold autumn air through the tobacco and filter in their cigarette, filling their lungs with smoke before exhaling it, letting it mix with the breeze.

“He’s not a dick… there’s just a lot on his plate.” You tried defending him, but even to your own ears, the words that had left your mouth sounded pathetic and feeble. “God knows how I would’ve acted if I had his job.”

You were looking down at your own hands, playing with the handle of the mug that was now empty, the coffee in it long gone. You didn’t even have to look up to know that your friend was giving you a dirty look.

To be fair, they weren't completely wrong. You still couldn’t get behind their words – a dick – but you more or less agreed with their general idea: he wasn’t treating you right and you deserved better.

Knowing and realising all that, you still couldn't bring yourself to do anything about it.

“You would’ve been honest and communicated.” They took another drag through their cigarette. “And he should be too. If he wants to keep a relationship.”

The truth was, he had a demanding job. Being a pro hero and saving people’s lives almost every single day was taxing. Not only physically, but also mentally. You understood that. You had let him know that you understood.

Still, as your friend said, and even as your own head was telling you, wanting him to communicate his needs and intentions beforehand was the bare minimum. Not even letting a problem arise and preventing it. Because he should have cared.

The thing that hurt you the most was that it hadn’t always been like that.

At the start, when you two met, he was attentive. Funny. Kind. Charming. You were sure he was still the same person, only not towards you. Not anymore, at least.

You entertained your friend and they tried to distract you from your own thoughts for about another hour before you both got up and went separate ways, counting on seeing each other sometime in the next two weeks again. Not that any of you could make it longer without seeing each other.

You decided to take the longer walk home, hop to a small market on your way and buy some necessities you needed. Maybe pick up something small to treat yourself.

Your heels were clapping on the sidewalk loudly, your tempo moderate. Your feet hurt after spending the entire day in your heels and once again you cursed yourself for choosing this type of footwear when you had known you would have to spend an entire day in them. There was a huge blister forming on your right Achilles, you were sure.

You fished your phone from your purse without even thinking about it, your thumbs moving on the screen as if they’d had a mind of their own. Or maybe it was a muscle memory at this point.

You opened the messages app on your phone and stared at the screen. Maybe hoping that if you stared long and hard enough, you would somehow manifest his response. Or maybe he would even open and read the message instead of leaving you on delivered.

I’m sorry to hear that! You really should take a few days off, you deserve it :(

Pathetic.

Scoffing at yourself you put your phone back into your purse and entered the small market. After greeting the lady who owned the shop you grabbed a basket and started browsing the isles.

You liked this market. The owner was aloof, she never asked you personal questions. You had been going here for long enough for the lady to remember you, you were one of the regular customers, yet she treated you like a stranger every time.

You appreciated that. This kind of curtness.

You began your usual route around the small store – a route you’d walked so many times you would be able to walk it with a scarf around your eyes without bumping into a single thing.

You idly strolled through the shop, picking up the stuff you needed.

Toast bread.

A premade sandwich with cheese, ham, and cucumber.

Spam ham.

Canned fish.

A few packets of instant ramen.

Cheap coffee.

Two single rolls of toilet paper.

Two bottles of soju.

Your feet stopped once you were in front of the register. You put the basket on the counter with a tiny smile and waited for the owner to scan the items.

Your eyes slid from the small woman to the stand next to the register, where the magazines were, all kinds together. The serious ones and the ones that just wrote about celebrity gossip. Living and lifestyle ones. Ones for teenagers. Weekly sudokus and crossword puzzles.

You weren’t the same scared, shy, uncertain intern as you were a few years ago. You’ve earned your place in the publishing company; you were a proper columnist at that point. So when your boss had assigned you the interview with the pro hero that would be the main feature of the next issue, you had been elated and had readily accepted the task. You had been sure this would help further your career. Maybe help you get a raise.

As you had soon learned, you might have been a good columnist, but you were still very much naive. You hadn’t gotten a raise. Nor had the feature helped the career.

What you’ve gotten out of the interview, however, was your phone number in Dynamight’s phone.

“Thanks for the interview, it was great.” You smiled and closed your laptop right after saving the file.

“No, ya were great.”

You laughed a little, bashful, a quiet ‘thank you’ leaving your lips as you put your laptop into its case and into your faux leather bag that was resting against the chair you were sitting in.

“I mean it,” he leaned back in his luxurious office chair, his elbows resting on the arms of the seat. “Most of the interviews I do are real uncomfortable. People love bein’ nosy and invadin’ my fuckin’ privacy.”

“You can’t blame them,” you grinned. “Of course, they wanna know everything about one of the most popular heroes.”

“And ya?” He asked after a slight pause and butted his chin in your direction.

“Me?”

“D’ya wanna know everythin’ ‘bout the most popular hero?”

You didn’t miss the way he changed ‘one of the most popular’ to ‘most popular’. Shameless.

“Uhm,” you bit your lower lip, not really sure what to answer.

“Lemme take ya out.”

You couldn’t deny his attractiveness. His cockiness and the roughness around the edges were more alluring than you would like to admit.

“Okay.” You breathed out and gave him a nervous smile.

Were you ready to go on a date with a pro hero though?

“Sorry?” You apologised to the woman when you realised she had said something.

She repeated the total price to you.

Oh, right.

You fumbled with your purse a little and fished out your wallet.

“Could you please add a bag to that?”

The woman grabbed one plastic bag from under the counter and put it on top of the things you purchased, not bothering to bag them.

“Actually… I would also like some cigarettes. And a lighter.” You put your wallet on the counter and started bagging the groceries yourself.

“What kind?” Was all she said, but you didn’t miss the judgy look she gave you.

“Gold Marlboro.”

She turned around to retrieve the cigarette box and basic, plastic lighter in a bright blue colour and handed them to you.

You finished bagging your stuff quickly, paid for it and with a goodbye exited the market.

A silent groan left your lips when you felt the rocky cement underneath your feet again, the back of your shoe digging into your Achilles more than before. The blister was going to be a big one.

The rest of the route to your home was uneventful. Thankfully. Once you opened the front door of the crappy building where you lived, you stood in front of the elevator.

It was old, unreliable, and just barely held together. This is why you usually took the stairs, but the painful cushion filled with fluid made you reconsider your actions. You looked from the elevator to your feet. It was either the stairs which would abuse your blister even more, or the risky elevator.

You sighed as you carefully stepped out of the heels.

“Shit.”

The blister that formed on your Achilles during the day must have popped and was now bleeding. Your entire heel and the inside of your shoe were stained with red that was slowly turning brown; the edges were crusty and flaking.

“Great.”

You bent down to pick up the bloody shoes in your free hand and started walking up the stairs. The stone and occasional tiles of the floor were just a tad too cool on your soles but you didn’t necessarily mind the sensation. It felt nice on your slightly swollen feet after the entire day.

Once you made it to the seventh floor – your floor – you stopped in front of the door to your apartment, and with a loud bang let the shoes fall from your hand to the floor. The bag with your groceries followed suit and soon you were trying to fish out your keys from your faux leather shoulder bag.

Your phone started vibrating, set on silent mode. Scrambling to quickly pick it up, you found your phone in record time and checked the caller’s ID, hoping to find a certain hero’s name on the display.

Your eyebrows furrowed a little when you found out it was your mother calling you. Inhaling deeply and breathing out through your nose, you slid your finger over the screen and put the phone against your ear.

“Hi, mom!” Your voice was too high-pitched as you greeted her. You leaned your head heavily to the side and squished the phone between your ear and your shoulder to keep your hand empty.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

You pulled a face at the pet name. You hated loving it.

“Mom, I’m sorry, but I’m really busy right now. Is it important?” You slightly fumbled with your bag as you kept trying to find your keys.

“Oh, no, I just wanted to call and ask how you’re doing,” you could hear the smile in her voice.

“I’m doing fine! Listen, would it be alright if I call you tomorrow? I’ve got a lot of things I still gotta do today.” You were lying through your teeth.

It took only a few more seconds of conversation with her, and you both agreed on a call the next day when you ‘have more time’. You tossed the phone in your bag and rummaged through all the things once again before you found your keys in the bottom corner of your bag and unlocked the door.

First, you walked into the small and cramped hall of your apartment and put down your purse, then just halfway stepped out of your flat to retrieve your shoes and finally the bag with groceries.

Eventually, you closed and locked the door behind you, the grocery bag in your arms as you stepped into the apartment that was way too small to even fit a single person. Not even two steps later you were in your living room and bedroom and after three more steps and turning the corner twice you were standing in the ‘kitchen’. ‘Kitchen’ with quotation marks, because the very few cabinets with a sink and without a proper oven could hardly count as a regular kitchen.

The apartment was horrible. It was in a worse part of town – not necessarily the worst, but bad enough. The prefabricated block of flats was old and in desperate need of renovation; the plaster on the outside of the building was slowly crumbling, the insolation was thinner than the walls between apartments, the pipes were rusty, and you heard that several neighbours of yours from lower levels had complained about mould.

Most of the people here, except for a few old grandmas and young women around your age, were unfriendly. The neighbours, with whom you shared one of the living room walls, were too loud.

Oftentimes, there were strange smells, ones you could not identify or describe. Whether they were lingering in the hall of the building or, for some godforsaken reason, in your own flat, they always lasted only a couple of hours.

During your walks up and down the stairs to get to or from work, you’d meet people who’d make you cross the street if you met them in the city at night. They were mostly younger men with pronounced eyebags and a strut that was either overconfident or not confident enough.

The only reason you stayed there was because it was cheap and the commute to your work from here was alright. Even with a salary that was too low for the job you did, you were able to afford it and even save a little bit of money on the side for any possible emergencies.

You set the grocery bag on the counter and went back into the hall to take your probably ruined shoes, bringing them to your minuscule bathroom and setting them on the floor in your shower, deciding on trying to salvage them later.

On your way back to the living room you took your work bag with you. Opening the window first and letting the cold autumn breeze in, you sat down on the couch and fished around in your bag once again, looking for the cigarettes and lighter that you put separately into your purse. Once you found it, you chucked the bag without any care on the floor and leaned back on the couch, putting your bare feet up on the coffee table.

You hissed as the raw meat on the back of your heel came into contact with the old glass top of the table that needed some proper cleaning, but ultimately did nothing to alleviate the pain. Instead, you took a single cigarette out of the package and rested it between your lips, inhaling at the same time as your fingers brought the fire from the lighter to life.

You left the cigarette hung from your mouth, held by your dry lips, and leaned your head back, your hands splayed on the sides of your body.

The fact was, you were exhausted.

And you didn’t even have a good reason for it.

Sure, work sucked. You worked like a dog only to be constantly overlooked and not earn enough. You were lying to your own mother every time you talked, pretending you were much more successful than you actually were, trying to get on her good side and receive any bit of praise. You hated living in your apartment. You were seeing a man who probably didn’t feel the same about you as you did about him.

The only good thing was your high school friend, always by your side and ready to lend a shoulder to cry on or an ear to listen.

Maybe you should go see a therapist.

You closed your eyes and deeply breathed in the stale air that refused to move even with the window opened through the tobacco and filter. You wondered what Bakugo was doing right now. Maybe he was working on the paperwork in his office, sitting behind the big, wooden table that you’d once seen. Or maybe he was out, patrolling with one of his sidekicks, walking in the streets. Maybe he was covered with fake sweat, flexing his muscles for a shoot for another men's magazine.

Your mind lingered on the image of that.

His healthily tanned skin taut over his herculean muscles, the drops of water rolling down and creating a web of moisture, leaving goosebumps behind.

You pressed your thighs together, putting a small amount of pressure on the nether part of your body.

You thought back to all the passionate moments you’d spent with the pro hero. Bakugo might have been getting on your nerves lately due to his behaviour but he was an exceptional lover. He was the best you’d ever had, not that you would admit it out loud. That fiery personality of his projected itself well in the bedroom.

You brought your hand to the cigarette between your lips, took it away from the dry skin and shook off the stack of ash that was growing bigger and bigger at the end of the tobacco. Even though the hot ash landed on the floor covered by very cheap linoleum that was slowly peeling in some corners, you didn’t care.

“Fuck, you’re squeezin’ me so tight, princess,” Bakugo was panting above you, the drops of sweat rolling down his forehead, neck, and chest and occasionally landing on your damp skin.

Your pussy was drooling on his dick, your juices wet on your inner thighs as well as his entire crotch and lower abdomen. He was bullying your body with his cock, repeatedly slamming it in and out of you at a fast pace.

“Katsuki,” you pleaded. You didn’t even know what you were asking him — to slow down? To change the angle? To fuck you harder? Your brain was a mush at that point and all you could think about was him, him, him.

“Not my name, sweetheart,” he grinned and slapped the top of your cunt with his hand, successfully hitting your clit.

You winced and tried to comprehend what he just said to you. Once the words registered, you corrected your mistake.

“Dyna- Dynamight!” His hero name on your lips was cut in half by your gasp.

“There we go.” He praised you. He didn’t move his hands from your hips when he angled them more, making your back arch and your pussy more open for him. “Your pussy fits me like a fuckin’ glove.”

Your head was swimming from all the sensations. Bakugo’s dirty talking, his hot breath hitting your calves while your legs were propped up on his shoulders, the blunt nails on his fingers digging into the skin of your hips, the tip of his dick dragging along your warm walls while he made sure you could feel him for several days to come.

“Look at ya,” he continued. “My dick feels so good’ya can’t even think, huh? Did I fuck ya dumb, princess?” There was a mocking tone to his voice while he talked.

In a normal situation, if you were having sex with anybody else, you would’ve been embarrassed. Both about the mocking and also about the fact that he was right. To be fair, none of your exes were able to fuck you good enough to get you into this state. But with Bakugo you couldn’t even manage to form thoughts coherent enough to feel the embarrassment at the moment.

“Dynamight,” was all you managed to let slip from your lips.

With the cigarette still between your lips, you unbuttoned your trousers and pushed your dominant hand under the fabric of your panties, the tight cotton sandwiching your fingers between the textile and your cunt.

You circled your entrance to gather some moisture, your pussy just starting to get wet. With the now slick pad of your finger, you moved it upward, tucking it a little underneath the hood to touch your clit directly.

Breathing out cigarette smoke from your nostrils, you leaned your head back, resting it against the headrest of your couch. With your eyes closed and a gentle sigh leaving your lips, you started moving the finger in circular motions.

“That’s right, princess.”

Your eyes were watering as you tried to swallow around the thickness of his cock in your throat.

“Fuck yeah, just like that.” His grip on your hair tightened. You were running out of air and fighting your gag reflex when you put your palms on his strong thighs, ready to tap out at the last second in case you needed to. “Choke on my dick.”

Your nose scrunched up against the neatly trimmed pubes as you gagged hard and you quickly tapped his thigh. Bakugo didn’t release your hair, instead, he tugged your head backwards so you would get him out of your mouth quickly. Your lips were red and swollen, covered in your own spit and as well as his precum, parted as you panted for air. Two tears rolled down both of your cheeks as you looked up at the man standing in front of you.

“Good girl,” he sadistically grunted through his gritted teeth. “You’re such a good slut for me, aren’t ya?”

You closed your eyes as he gently, almost affectionately, slapped your cheek a few times.

“Open,” was all he said as he pushed two fingers into your mouth, reaching so far into your throat it made you gag again.

You grabbed the butt of the cigarette with your hand that wasn’t down your pants and leaned over to your coffee table to put it out against the glass. Leaving the butt there, you reclined against the couch once again, moving your finger from your clit back to your entrance, adding a second one to cover them both in your wetness and pushing them inside of you, immediately targeting your g-spot.

“Don’t stop.”

Bakugo’s hand on your hip helped with guiding your movements, effectively pushing you up and down on his cock as you rode him. You were so close to him your nipples were rubbing against his chest with every motion and you were practically breathing each other’s air. The tip of him was deep inside of you and rubbed against your g-spot each time you moved. Your arms were resting on his shoulders. One hand was leaning your weight against his trapezius and the other one against the god-awfully expensive leather sofa of his which you were probably staining now.

“Fuck,” he groaned so quietly you were only able to hear him thanks to the proximity. “You’re mine, do you understand?” His other hand, which wasn’t holding your hip but was snaked around your waist and pushing in between your shoulder blades so that you would be close to him, moved upwards and firmly, but not forcefully, squeezed the back of your neck. The gesture only made you feel that much closer to him. You nodded your head as fast as you could, but that was not enough of an answer for him.

“Say it. Say you’re mine.”

There was a certain desperation in his voice. Desperation that you heard for the first time with him.

“I’m yours.”

The words silently left your lips with a puff of air following suit. Bakugo wasted no time and kissed your lips passionately, seemingly putting all his feelings into it.

But you knew better.

“Say it again.”

“I’m yours.”

The buzz of your phone vibrating in your bag next to the sofa disrupted you.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” You let out an angry grunt.

You debated not picking it up and calling whoever it was that interrupted you later, but decided against it when you felt a considerable amount of guilt in your throat. What if it was important?

You quickly pulled your hand out of your trousers and wiped your wet fingers on your blouse, leaving shiny, sticky splotches behind. Fumbling with the bag a little, you managed to find your phone just in time, not even looking at the caller ID as you swiped your finger against the screen and put it against your ear.

“Hey.”

Your body froze a little at the sound of the unusually cheery voice on the other end. He must have had a pretty good day, judging by his tone.

“Uh, hi.”

“Ya busy?”

You straightened on the sofa and tried to clear your throat as discreetly as possible.

“No, I was just cooking, sorry.” Lie.

“Cool. Listen, we haven’t seen each other for a while so I wanted to call ya.”

“That’s nice of you.” Bare. Fucking. Minimum.

“Yeah. I can’t really talk now, I’m ‘bout to go grab a few beers with my mates. I’ll call ya later, so we can talk properly, yeah?”

“Oh, sure.” You turned your head to look at the clock on the wall in your kitchen. It was already nearing eight o’clock, just how late did he mean to call?

“Alright. I’ll talk to ya later.”

He ended the call sooner than you could say goodbye.

Your hand that was holding the phone to your ear fell limply against the couch with the device still between your fingers. You didn’t know if his call made you feel happy or even more pathetic.

It was good that he called you, right? He obviously wanted to check up on you. And also promised to call you again later.

So why were you feeling like this? Where did this feeling come from?

You gulped the saliva that gathered between your teeth and the flesh of your cheek, accidentally swallowing a bit of air as well.

No, you thought to yourself. He was trying. That was good enough for you. For now.

You raised your hand with your phone again and unlocked it, opening a food delivery app. You debated between classic pizza and maybe something healthier, but your finger ultimately landed on the pizza picture on your screen, successfully tapping it into the cart. You chose the address for delivery and type of payment and locked your phone.

Releasing a deep breath, you stood up and with your phone still in your hand walked the few steps to your bed. The pizza was supposed to be delivered in 30-60 minutes. Might as well masturbate properly with your vibrator in the meantime.

»»————-　　————-««

After giving yourself two orgasms, eating the entire pizza and drinking several shots of soju, you fell asleep on your sofa just a few minutes after midnight. Bakugo didn’t call.

»»————-　　————-««

It was several days later that you heard from him again. This time, he didn’t even bother with calling you; he decided that two texts would suffice.

hey, sorry for not calling you the other day, i got wasted

you wanna see each other sometime again? ;)

‘That’s not a proper apology. Send him to hell.’ your friend replied when you sent them a screenshot of said messages.

You were sitting behind the desk you were assigned at work, your hands idly resting on the keyboard of your computer, but your eyes were glued to your phone that lay locked next to your cup of coffee. You should send him a reply.

“Do you have a minute?”

You jerked in your seat involuntarily, the sudden proximity of the voice effectively scaring you. Your blood rushed to your cheeks, heating your face, when you realised you were caught slacking off.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” You replied to your boss, not exactly enthusiastically.

“Great.” He gave you a fake smile that didn’t reach his eyes and quickly left his lips and tapped the side of your cubicle a few times before he turned around and started walking towards his office, obviously expecting you to follow.

You cleared your throat and got up from your seat, tugged your pencil skirt down a little and followed him as quickly as you could in the garment that was sexy and elegant, but also restrictive.

You closed the door once you stepped into the personal office that was separated by glass walls from the rest of the cubicles where you and your colleagues worked.

“Sit down.” Your boss moved his hand in the general direction of the seat that was positioned in front of his desk.

The table was made of a grey and white particle board, as well as all the desks you and others worked on. The carpet in his office was originally the same shade of dark blue as the rest of the entire floor, but was less walked on and therefore managed to retain its colour better than the carpet in the rest of the space.

The window behind his back that you were facing and that he liked to stare out of so often was as bleak as it always is this time of the year. The strange shift between autumn and winter when the weather gets even colder and the days even shorter, when you usually reach for your second-hand wool coat before leaving your apartment.

“We need to talk.”

You were fucked.

»»————-　　————-««

Tears were rolling down your cheeks as you held the phone in your hand.

When are you free? We need to talk.

A small part of you wished Bakugo cared about you enough to actually get stressed after reading your message. But the more rational part of you knew that that wasn’t the case. The pro-hero with a super-inflated ego wouldn’t get anxious due to a mildly threatening message from an average journalist who had had his balls in her mouth not so long ago.

Unemployed journalist.

You debated calling your mother but ultimately decided against it. You weren’t in the headspace to deal with that kind of phone call.

You also considered calling your friend.

You didn’t, though.

You knew they would pity you. You didn’t want people to pity you. You just needed somebody to listen. And maybe a hug. But none of the people you were in contact with or that were in your life would ever just listen.

So you were left all alone with all these feelings that felt just too heavy on your chest. A lead that made it hard to breathe, a lead that your muscles had to actively fight against to fill your lungs with much-needed air. A lead that made you drag your feet against the pavement.

Your phone buzzed in your hand.

this thursday at 5pm, come to my apartment

You didn’t even open the message to properly read it, your eyes just skimmed over the message in the notification on your lock screen before you stuffed the electronic device in your bag once again.

Good, you thought for yourself. You had three days to somewhat get your shit together before visiting him. As much as you had feelings for a certain pro-hero, you were not about to let him see you like this.

Especially not since you were determined to end whatever the weird situationship between the two of you was.

»»————-　　————-««

You rested the back of your head against the cool mirror behind you. The extra thick layer of concealer underneath your eyes to hide the dark circles was slowly creasing even though you’d used enough powder to set it… you could almost feel it.

The Visine in your eyes to make them appear whiter and not like you cried just this morning felt unnatural – too watery and a tiny bit stingy when you closed your eyes for long enough.

Your thought process? Don’t let him see your weakness. Don’t look like you actually care about this ‘relationship’. Could you even call it that? Could you call this situationship a relationship when he kept you secret from the public and his friends as well? When all he ever wanted to do with you lately was to fuck you?

The odd smell of the hairspray that you had used deliberately to keep your hair bouncy was almost palpable in the air, even though you used quite a lot of perfume. Those two smells as well as the lingering stench of a cigarette you smoked earlier combined were almost suffocating you, pressing down on your person, making you feel smaller and smaller.

The supposedly calming music that was playing in the elevator was paradoxically making you even more nervous.

The trousers you decided to wear that day made your ass look extra good, but cut into your stomach every time you sat down – a decision you, again, made on purpose. To get it over with quicker. You can’t even really sit down with these on. Plus, obviously, it wouldn’t be bad to remind him what he was going to lose, right? One last look at your ass was all you were going to grant him.

Saying that you were uncomfortable was an understatement.

You lost your job just a few days ago. It was clear to you you’d have to consider moving soon; the shitty apartment you lived in was cheap, but not cheap enough to keep while unemployed. And now, on top of your job and an apartment, you were about to lose him.

Maybe it was a good thing, though. Even though he made you feel like you were on cloud nine in the beginning, showering you with affection and spending most of his free time with you, lately all you’d been getting from whatever was happening between you two was stress and anxiety. Self-doubt. More insecurities.

Besides, were you really going to lose him? Could a person lose something they’ve never had in the first place?

Your mind wandered on its own to your favourite memory with him. It was still quite fresh, you could remember it as if it had happened a few days ago, even though in reality it had been weeks.

Your head resting on Bakugo’s thigh, the sound of the television and the feeling of his fingers playing with your hair inevitably lulling you to sleep. Your belly was comfortably full thanks to the amazing dinner Bakugo had cooked for you.

“You’re sleepin’.”

“Am not.” You replied, but you could hear it in your own voice, the tiredness and how you slightly slurred your words, your eyes still closed. His smell and proximity was just making you feel so, so safe.

A sigh left your lips as your hand moved on its own and started rummaging in the small purse that you’d brought with you. The fluorescent light in the elevator did nothing to flatter your appearance, quite the opposite, actually. You found the lip gloss you were wearing that day in the depths of your bag and reapplied it generously. You gave yourself another look in the mirror as you stuffed the small thing back into the bag.

God, it looked like you’d tried too hard.

Quickly, with only a few stories left, you tried to card your fingers through your hair to make them messier and ruin your appearance a little. Your hand flew to your lips to wipe off all the gloss you’d just put on as the door of the elevator opened to Bakugo’s floor.

You hesitantly stepped inside of the apartment and took off your shoes, the elevator door closing behind you. Leaving your coat and scarf on the hanger that was situated in the dead end of the hallway, you then stepped in the other direction to actually get further into the flat.

Your feet were quiet on the overpriced Persian runner rug, so you called his name to announce your arrival.

“Hey.”

You were looking directly at his back as you walked into the more open space and the centre of the floor. With his back to you and broad shoulders covered by a simple oversized black hoodie, he was standing right in front of a kitchen counter, probably mixing something judging by the sound of it.

“Hi.” You replied, your voice lacking the usual enthusiasm that laced it whenever you were with him. You put your purse on the couch in the living area and walked closer to where Bakugo was standing.

“Hope you’re hungry.” He said without raising his head or really looking at you.

When you came close enough, you were actually able to see what he was cooking – tamagoyaki.

“Not really.” You’d kill for some tamagoyaki at that moment, to be honest. “I'm not planning on staying long, actually.” You crossed your arms over your chest and leaned your weight against the kitchen counter, resting your hip against it.

“Hm.” Was all he said.

You watched as he poured another part of the egg mixture into the pan, helping it spread by tilting the metal and sort of pushing the liquid with chopsticks.

Bakugo was an amazing chef. You’d asked him about it when you were eating curry rice during one of the occasions that you’d visited his flat and his response was a grunt and cookin’s not that hard.

“You know why I’m here, right?” You asked.

You hoped that he would say it first. Yer leavin’ me. You had prayed that he would say it, make it easier for you. Spare you from having to force air over your vocal cords and formulate the sounds with your tongue and lips.

He didn’t.

The silence stretched on as he seemingly minded his business, rolling the tamagoyaki into a perfect little roll and adding more egg mixture.

“I can’t…” You started but cut yourself off. You gave it another thought before you started again. “This has to end.”

Bakugo didn’t move a single muscle to indicate any sort of reaction he might’ve had. You watched him finally move as he took two bowls out of his kitchen cabinet and nodded his head in the direction of the kitchen aisle.

“Siddown, food’s almost ready.”

He started filling the bowls with steaming rice straight from the rice cooker while the egg was frying on the pan.

“I said I’m not hungry. I’m not here to eat.”

“And I didn’ ask.”

“Stop treating me like a child.” Anger was gathering in the pit of your stomach, twisting it more than it already was.

“Then stop actin’ like one.”

A moment of silence.

You were speechless.

A lump formed in your throat, successfully gagging you and preventing you from defending yourself. You could feel them, the tears forming in your eyes, threatening to fall over your lower lash line and roll down your cheeks.

“Please, siddown so ya can eat your food.”

You swallowed around the tightness in your throat and just nodded your head, not trusting your voice to keep steady. Without another word, you walked around the kitchen aisle and sat down on one of the tall bar stools, resting your forearms on the cold granite countertop. The stone was cold enough to sting your already cold skin, goosebumps forming on your arms.

After not even two minutes the meal appeared in front of you – a bowl of rice, another bowl of miso soup with tofu, a plate filled with cut tamagoyaki and a small bowl of steamed spinach with garlic.

“Eat up,” Bakugo said as he put his own bowls and plate on the countertop, sitting next to you.

The food was warm, filling your tummy with a nice feeling.

“It’s delicious.” You complimented after a few careful bites. You meant it.

“It’s alright.”

Ever the critic. Even when it comes to himself.

The two of you were eating in silence, only the sounds of chewing and slurping filling the air.

Bakugo raised his eyes from his meal when he noticed your reluctance to continue eating about halfway through the meal.

“Why aren’ ya eatin’?”

You could hear the disapproval in his voice. Not worry, not even concern. Just disapproval.

“Uhm,” you started, but couldn’t finish your sentence.

The godforsaken jeans you’d decided to wear were digging into your stomach painfully, to a point where a sharp pain was shooting up your chest. And you filling your belly more wasn’t helping it.

“D’ya not like it?”

“No! No, that’s not it.” You moved a piece of the omelette with your chopsticks around on the plate. “It really is delicious.”

Hmph.

You chewed on your lower lip. Bakugo was obviously unhappy with your answer. He was still staring you down.

“I’m wearing my standing jeans.” You admitted after a few seconds.

“Standin’ jeans.” He repeated, obviously not understanding the term.

“Yeah. Standing jeans. Jeans that look great when you stand up, but you can't really sit down in them because they’re too tight.”

Your laughable reason was met with silence, he was obviously letting you stew in the ridiculousness of it all.

“They’re too tight when I sit down, they dig into my stomach.”

Bakugo blinked at you once before he rolled his eyes and without a word got up and left the kitchen, disappearing in the direction of his bedroom.

You heard some sounds coming from the other side of the flat before he reappeared with grey sweatpants in his hand, handing them to you.

“Change.”

“I’m not going to change into your sweatpants.” You protested, looking at the fabric in his extended hand. “I didn’t even want to stay here. Nor eat your food. Can we just get this over with?”

You were this close to begging him. This close. Begging him to say the final words, those ones you had no guts to really say. Even though they were long overdue.

“Ya look like shit.”

“Excuse me?”

“Ya heard me. Ya look like a’mess. Change'nto those damn sweatpants and finish your food.”

You looked from his face to the sweatpants he was still holding out for you. Reluctantly, you took them and stood up, immediately feeling the relief in your midsection. You walked back into the hallway where you came from and disappeared in the door on the left – Bakugo’s bathroom.

You peeked a look at yourself in the mirror immediately after closing the door behind you. He was right. You looked like shit. The concealer was cakey under your eyes; the foundation was sitting on your skin almost unnaturally, making you look like you were wearing some sort of a mask. The mascara formed spider legs on your lower lash line – where some stray tears had gathered. The Visine you had used obviously wasn’t working.

You could just leave the apartment. Just leave and not look back. Obviously, he would get the hint, right?

Leave and not say a word. Save yourself from the uncomfortable conversation, the uncomfortable feelings that would inevitably bubble up your chest and settle in your throat.

You sighed and put some liquid hand soap in your palm, turning on the water with your other hand. Smearing the soap across your face, you rubbed hard enough to get the mask off your face, so you could feel the inevitable tears on your skin without any barrier between the two. The soap was slightly stinging as it got into your eyes, but it didn’t stop you from rubbing your face with your nails until your skin was all red and the makeup was now underneath your fingernails.

It didn’t matter if you wore your mask or not. Not anymore. He had seen right through it. Might as well bare yourself to him.

Looking up at yourself in the mirror, you saw the black streaks of mascara all over your face, which made you dunk your face into the watery, soapy concoction for longer, until it was running down your forearms and to your elbows, dripping down onto the grey rug on the floor. It didn’t bother you at this point.

You only opened your eyes again when you ran out of breath, now looking at beet-red skin with two bloodshot eyes that were staring back at you in the mirror.

That would do for now.

Opening the drawer underneath the bathroom sink, you knew exactly where to look to find the hair accessories Bakugo kept for all his hookups. Grabbing the ones you needed, you pinned your slightly damp hair out of your face. Stripping off your standing jeans, you folded them neatly into a nice square before you put on the grey sweatpants that were ill-fitting on you.

It didn’t matter now.

Didn’t matter what you looked like.

You sniffled a little and opened the door, emerging into the hallway and letting only the slight taps of your feet announce your entry to the kitchen.

Bakugo looked up from his meal, unphased, and nodded his head to himself.

“Thanks for the sweats.” You put your jeans on the counter to your right, where there was empty space.

“No problem.”

That was actually kind of nice of him.

Your brain whined in your head.

He wasn’t supposed to be nice to you. Not now. Not when you needed a final push to end this. Like a coward.

“Is al’this just ‘cause of me, or did somethin’ else happen?”

You stayed silent for a while, instead putting in your mouth a spoonful of miso soup with a piece of tofu.

Should you be honest with him, or lie?

…It didn’t matter anymore, did it?

“I got fired.”

You stuffed your face with the fried egg.

It was really nice to eat a warm meal after some time. Only now that you were wearing his sweatpants and your entire stomach wasn’t hurting from those damn jeans did you realise how much you actually relished the feeling of warmth filling you up.

“Sorry t’hear that.”

All you replied was a low hum from the back of your throat, continuing to fill the dark, empty space inside of you with the home-cooked meal.

“Ya wanna talk ‘bout it?” He asked after a minute.

You could see in your peripheral that he was looking at you now, pausing his eating.

“Not really.”

After that, the two of you finished eating in silence. Once you accepted that Bakugo knew you weren’t alright, the silence actually turned comfortable.

You couldn’t stop yourself from thinking things over while the two of you were eating. Was this really the last time you’d ever see him? He deserved to get dumped for how badly he had treated you, right?

Maybe he had his reasons. Maybe something in his life happened the same way you got fired just recently?

You shook your head from side to side discreetly as you swallowed down another mouthful. It was too late. You came here for a reason, and that reason was exactly what you were mulling over now.

Don’t be a fucking coward.

It was the right thing to do.

Bakugo treated you as disposable. If that was what you were to him, there was no reason for you to stay.

Were you ready to prove to yourself that you truly were disposable to him, though?

You realised you had been staring at now empty plates and bowls in front of you only when Bakugo’s hand appeared in the picture to collect the dishes.

“Thank you for the food, it was really nice.”

“Hm.”

You stayed seated at the kitchen island as you watched him neatly put the bowls and plates into the dishwasher. It was obvious that he followed a certain system. You didn’t even consider getting up and offering any help. You knew him well enough to know that he would scold you and tell you to sit down again.

Your eyes drifted over his body while he was bending down to put the porcelain away. The way his back muscles moved underneath the fabric, the way the dirty blonde hair at the nape of his neck brushed against the skin.

You could almost feel it. Feel his muscles move under your fingers, taste his skin on the tip of your tongue.

Your eyes followed his movement as he finally turned around once he was done, resting his backside against the kitchen counter and crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes met and your look didn’t falter. It didn’t.

“So ya wanna break up?”

You let him win and looked down at your lap. All you saw was the grey fabric that belonged to him.

“Is it really a break-up if we haven’t even properly dated?” You dared to raise your eyes again.

“Fair enough.”

It was him now that looked down. You won this round.

You were sitting on the bar stool in silence while he was just standing there, in the kitchen, the kitchen island creating sort of a safe barrier between you two. Your fingers were fidgeting in your lap, trying to make your mind focus on anything else than what was really going on in your head.

Don’t say it.

Don’t.

“What happened?”

You winced. You said it.

“Whaddya mean?”

This was a mistake.

You abruptly got up and grabbed your jeans from the countertop. You were leaving in his sweatpants. You’ll send them back to him sometime later.

“Wait.”

You could hear his hurried footsteps following you to the living room area where you collected your purse from the couch.

“Wait, god dammit,” he grabbed your arm and spun you around so you could face him. “What didya mean by that?”

You were staring at the neckline of his hoodie, tears smudging your vision. There was not enough of them to roll over the notional barrier, but enough of them for you to fear that they would.

“What didya mean by that?” He repeated the question. Now that he was so close to you, his voice got much softer. Much quieter.

That along with the smell of his cologne and deodorant made you realise just how much you’d missed him. The emotion filled your body with a strange feeling of sorrow and grief.

His hand left your arm and you craved for his touch to return.

“What happened?” Your voice sounded broken. It felt like it was another person talking rather than you, you couldn’t recognise it. “It was so nice at the start.”

You dared to look up at him, which turned out to be a mistake. The movement sent the drops of salty water over the edge of your waterline. You felt them rolling down your cheeks to your chin where they connected into one and dripped down.

Bakugo’s vermillion eyes followed the movement of the liquid on your face. He almost looked guilty.

“I don’ know whaddya want me t’say.”

“The truth.”

He looked away from you for a few seconds while he put his hands in his pockets. It was clear he was debating it. Whether or not he should really be honest with you.

“You owe me that much.” You encouraged him to talk even though you didn’t want to hear it. You wanted to be anywhere else with anybody else than in his apartment with him. Maybe you were a masochist.

“I used ya.”

Fresh tears started streaming down your face as soon as his words registered in your brain. His saying it out loud made it all too real. If he hadn’t admitted it, you could still pretend it was something else. You could pretend and make yourself feel better about it. When he admitted it you lost the possibility and comfort of gaslighting yourself into thinking he had a good reason.

He had enough sense to look at the floor almost shamefully when he carried on.

“I had a lottov things goin’ on ada time. Ya distracted me from it.”

You blinked harshly to force the water from your eyes out. The gentle gasp for air left your lips even though you tried to fight it, to conceal it from him.

“’M sorry. I thought I could give ya more, ‘cause you’re really nice.”

“Yeah, well… really nice doesn’t seem to cut it, does it?”

You both stood there in silence for a few more beats before you felt his hand on your cheek, his thumb smearing the tear away from underneath your eye.

“Don’t.”

It was a quiet plea, a quiet plea that sounded too much like a whimper, leaving your lips parted after rolling off them.

“I meant what I said.” He pulled his hand away from your cheek, moving it to the other and wiping your tears there as well with the upper side of his index finger. “Ya are nice.”

“Whatever.” You removed your face from his touch, eyes glued to the floor.

“Spend the night.”

Was it an order, or a request? You didn’t know, but the sentence froze your feet to the floor before you could turn and make your exit.

“What?”

“Listen, listen. No funny business. Just, spend the night. Ya can sleep inda guest room.” He added the last sentence almost as an afterthought.

Your eyebrows were furrowed above your eyes that were moving from right to left, going from one red eye to the other, trying to gauge the sincerity of his statement.

“Spend the night.” He repeated once more, his voice just barely above a whisper.

Your mind was screaming at you to get the hell out of that apartment, but you felt yourself nod.

A masochist.

“Yeah?” He was making sure.

“Yeah,” you whispered, not even looking him in the eye. The lump in your throat was making you feel like you could choke on it and you already felt bad for betraying yourself like this and agreeing to his outrageous request. You couldn’t bear the way he was definitely looking at you on top of all of that.

Bakugo gently put his hand on your shoulder and guided you back into the heart of his apartment.

“D’ya wanna watch some movie?” He led you to the couch so you sat down on it without any protest.

“Sure.”

He sat down next to you, not really close, but not far away from you either, turning the TV on and switching to the streaming service on it immediately.

You kept biting the inside of your cheek and looking everywhere else than at the TV or him. Hearing the opening of a movie, you raised your eyes to the big screen mounted on the wall. Your throat went dry as soon as you realised what was playing.

“No, something else.” You demanded quickly. “I wanna watch something new.”

Bakugo looked at you for a few seconds and then nodded his head, taking the TV remote in his hand once again and switching the movie to a different one.

The movie that he initially pressed play on was a movie you talked about with him. You could still remember how you gushed about it, mentioning how it was your favourite movie growing up and saying the words we should watch it together sometime. Of course, that 'sometime' never really came. So, now you wouldn’t let him do this. You wouldn’t let him taint your movie. This was yours. He had no right to claim this thing as well.

You wouldn’t let him have this because that would mean that at some point he actually listened to you. It would mean that at some point he might’ve tried if he cared enough.

The sound of a different movie playing commanded your attention then and so you tried to tune in as much as possible. Just from the music, you could tell that it was an action movie.

“Real’ like this one.”

You wished he didn’t say those words.

»»————-　　————-««

You were probably in the middle of the movie and lucky for you, you were already able to say that you hated it. Loud explosions, ridiculous situations, plot with holes. Surprisingly, Bakugo liked a Hollywood action movie with too big of a budget.

Your eyes drifted from the TV screen to the window. Living this high up definitely had its perks. The view being one of the main ones. You remembered how naïve you had been when this situationship started. How you had thought maybe if this goes well, I’ll be looking at the same view every morning.

“Ya don’t like it?”

Ever the observant.

You turned your head to the other side, looking at Bakugo who was looking right back at you. You bit your lip and shrugged your shoulders.

“It’s fine.”

You didn’t want to be mean but you also didn’t want to lie about liking it.

“Fine?”

Wrong answer, apparently.

“I guess I just wasn’t in the mood for an action movie.” You tried to calm him down a little. Lying it was then.

“Shoulda told me that hour and a'half ago. Dammit.”

You watched him as he grabbed the remote and exited the movie.

“What are ya inda mood for, then?”

You watched his profile illuminated by the light from the TV screen for a few seconds. He was so beautiful it almost pained you. The constantly furrowed brows you almost couldn’t see because of his hair covering his entire forehead, his perfect nose, the shape of his lips. His skin without blemishes, apart from a few small scars, even though he didn’t really have a skincare routine.

You remembered how you imagined what your possible babies would look like. They’d be perfect.

“So?” He asked impatiently when you hadn’t answered immediately.

His eyes met yours when you decided what to do.

Moving closer to him, you leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. Just as you remembered. He still tasted the same. It was Bakugo who leaned back, looking at you. Making sure you knew what you were doing. You leaned in more, kissing him again. Gently, almost tenderly. What if this was the last time you ever got to taste him? You relished the feeling, trying to commit to your memory as much as you could. His taste, his smell, the way his lips felt against you. The kiss got interrupted when he pressed his forehead against yours.

“Are ya sure ya can handle it?”

You knew what he meant. Are you sure you can handle that, emotionally? Are you sure it won’t ruin you even more? You couldn't help yourself. Bakugo was like a scab you couldn't stop picking at. An open wound that just wouldn't heal. He was your weak spot.

“No.” You said with your voice all breathy, kissing him once again, this time more passionately. Bakugo reciprocated without missing a beat, one of his hands grabbing the side of your face and the other one going straight to your waist. Not even a few seconds in, you swung one of your legs over his thighs, straddling him without breaking the kiss.

You were eager.

And Bakugo was just as eager as you.

Part of your brain hated this. Hated how good his touch felt, hated how familiar all of this was. How safe you felt right in that moment and just how vulnerable and exposed it was all at the same time. You felt weak.

Bakugo’s hand that was on your waist moved to your hip and gripped it tightly, pushing you back and forth, guiding your movements so you would grind against him. There was impatience in the movements from both of you. You knew where it was coming from on your end but the implications of it coming from him made your heart drop in your chest.

“Need you.” You half whined against his lips before you quickly stood up and took off the sweatpants he had lent you. Bakugo followed suit – he took off his trousers hastily and welcomed you back in his lap with open arms, immediately grabbing at your flesh and squeezing what he could.

“Couldn’t leave ‘thout one last fuck, could ya?” He growled against your skin when he moved his lips to your neck and started kissing and nibbling it.

You let out a quiet moan and grabbed his growing bulge through his boxers, the thin fabric the only thing separating you from him. He was almost fully hard already, huffing against your neck as you stroked him.

“Fuck, okay, lemme go grab a condom.” The hero parted from your neck momentarily and was about to get you off of him and get up when you stopped him.

“No!”

You surprised yourself with how quickly you objected to that. Bakugo stopped himself and gave you a look.

“No,” you said calmer this time. “I wanna feel you.”

You deserved it. You deserved this. You deserved at least one good thing in your life. And he would be the one to give it to you. You didn't need his love or affection. All you needed was a piece of him.

You pushed his underwear down just enough so his balls and dick, now fully hard, were free and stroked it, eliciting an almost painfully sounding groan from the man.

“I wanna feel you tonight.” You repeated, pushing your own panties to the side and lining him up with your entrance.

You definitely needed more prep than this, you knew that it would be an uncomfortable stretch and that you weren’t wet nearly enough to help with it, but you couldn’t wait any longer.

You groaned from the slight sting, it was a bit worse than you expected it to be.

“Shit, easy.” Bakugo put his hand on your hip to slow you down a bit. “No need’da hurry. We got all night, princess.”

»»————-　　————-««

You sat on the bathroom floor in your mother’s flat, having to temporarily move in with her due to your unemployment. The phone you kept pressed against your ear kept ringing and ringing. To be honest, you were expecting it to go straight to a voicemail right away.

“Yeah?” He picked it up probably at the last possible ring.

“Hey.” You greeted him. “Listen, could we talk?” You bit your lip as you looked at the positive pregnancy test in your hand.

#bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #pro hero bakugou #pro hero bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katuski x reader #bakugo x you #bakugou x reader #bakugo smut #bakugo katsuki smut #katsuki bakugo smut #bakugo angst #bakugou angst #bakugo katsuki angst #tw: baby trapping #ves writes

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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year

Note

Hii, I was wondering if you could possibly write about what kind of p*rn you think Ghost and König like? (And other characters if you want! )it’s just been floating around my head for days and you’re one of my favorite writers. If not, that’s totally fine! 💛💛💛

MW2 and Their P0rn Preferences

Warnings: 18+, Heavy Mentions of P0rn0graphy (none shown), Mention of Poor Mental Health, P0rn w/ Feelings, P0rn w/o Feelings, BDSM, Knife Play, Breeding Kink, Historical P0rn, Mention of Hardcore Lesbian P0rn, Mentions of Masturbation, University Lecturer/Student Relationship, Body Worship, Daddy Kink, Sadism, Mentions of Torture P0rn, Mention of Sex Tape, Mention of Insecurity, Mention of Alcohol, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’, Profanity, etc.

A/N: Tysm, Anon <3 ! Also, I’ve changed any mentions of the subject material to p0rn as to skirt around any potential censorship issues.

Ghost:

Given the absolute S T A T E of this man’s mental health, I think he secretly watches p0rn for the plot.

No, really. I mean he genuinely watches p0rn for the storyline; though not just any storyline.

It has to have feeling, romance. Love.

Though he’d never, ever, EVER admit it, he watches it to fill an emotional void in his life rather than a sexual one (ejaculation is just a bonus - he sees it as more of a duty to his body’s needs rather than his personal ones).

Definitely favours p0rn where it features a couple who have reunited after a long stretch of time and…well, have at it.

He found that there’s a startling lack of this in the men’s category, though, so he goes and finds it in the women’s because p0rn there is a lot softer, much more sensual, and doesn’t feel as creepy.

Ghost isn’t a fan of typical straight p0rnography; he thinks it’s too violent and unrealistic.

Instead, he watches ones where the couple aren’t just fucking or having sex - they’re making love.

And, really, beneath all the death and decay and bloodshed his life has become buried under, Ghost wants what those couples have.

Maybe if he knows you and likes you, he’ll jack off to the thought of you in those situations with him - absolutely even more so if you’re his partner.

Ghost would NEVER divulge the actual p0rnography he consumes - not even to Soap.

Whenever the guys back at Base would try and draw the truth out of him - Johnny especially - he’d tell them to “Pipe the fuck down” and “Get back to work.”

However, if he were a little loose-lipped via the aid of booze, he’ll cast the 141 a false line.

And when Johnny comes asking him what his preferences are again, Ghost won’t even cast him a second glance as the lie spills between his lips as he, Simon Riley, with all the conviction of a man accused of a false crime, says “Hardcore lesbian.”

And nobody will think to even question it.

König:

If he’s in a dom mood, something hardcore, though nothing outright sadistic; especially if he’s just returned from a mission.

Instead it’ll be, at most, some bondage, maybe some marking here and there - really nothing too wild.

He saves that for when he’s with you.

On the contrary, if he’s feeling a little raw from his time away but still needs to relieve himself, he’ll watch something similar to Ghost in that whatever he chooses to jank himself off to has to have a storyline. And love.

Though, his may be just a smidge more softcore than Ghost’s in that maybe the more dominantly perceived of the couple bottoms on occasion, or there just isn’t as much sex in favour of a richer storyline.

Most of the time, König actually never makes it to the stage of jacking off because he’s so invested in where the protagonists’ relationship is going and starts getting emotional.

This happens if you’re away and not within his immediate vicinity because he can only think of yours and his relationship.

98% of the time, he gets to the end of the video, realises he’s gone half limp, and just decides to go and watch a rom-com instead.

But don’t be fooled.

The second you arrive home, he’ll be on you like a blanket.

And he is not letting you go until both your needs are met.

Soap:

Something conventional yet with a distinct Johnny twist to it.

I can see him reading Playboy mags, for one, though this is more to get himself hard rather than to alleviate himself with.

He goes for something stronger when he wants to get himself off.

Definitely into the whole jealousy/possessiveness trope, so anything where one of the leads gets jealous for one reason or another and just destroys their partner afterwards is his type of media.

Johnny strikes me as a switch with top lean, so he’s much more likely to put himself in the position of the dominant lead instead of the lead receiving punishment.

Soap definitely gets off on some degree of dumbification - more so that, when the dom lead is almost through with their partner, said partner is just a heaving, whimpering, cum-soaked mess beneath them.

That, and body worship.

Soap wants to see a loving relationship wherein the leads truly love each other and find each other physically attractive (reflecting Johnny’s relationship with you), so to see one or the other in these on-screen relationships tell the other what they love about them gets him a little hot under the collar (though the collar may have been long discarded).

That’s the home stretch that gets Johnny off.

He also watches p0rn to improve, in a way.

Occasionally, he gets a little insecure that there may come a day where he can’t meet your needs, so he uses p0rn as a training ground to make sure he’s at the top of his game.

And many practice sessions with you too, of course.

Price:

University professor x Student.

Change my mind.

No clue what brought this on in him; I feel like this may have just been something he experimented with one bored evening and found that it worked, so he just kept consuming it. Or, it phased into his psyche after being so high in the chain of command for so long.

Either way, he usually can only get off to being in a position of dominance and power.

Though, he does have other preferences when it comes to how he asserts this dominance.

Sometimes he’ll watch historic p0rn (stay with me on this) where there’s a couple in the 40’s - one of whom is a soldier, the other the caretaker of their shared house - who are able to return to each other.

And then they…well, what couples who’ve been separated by war and worry usually do in these circumstances.

I feel like Price may have a preference for the couple being straight, but only for the aspect of one of them being a traditional housewife who the soldier wants to start a family with.

Pretty wholesome concept. Pretty unwholesome execution.

Price isn’t a fan of violent p0rnography, so it’s pretty ordinary and vanilla, but it satiates his breeding kink.

And my god, does this man have a breeding kink.

Not that anyone else on Base knows that.

They know literally nothing about his sexual preferences, and, given he’s their superior, they rarely push the issue when he shuts it down.

Alejandro:

Slow and sensual wins the race.

Man loves a good story – especially if it starts with an argument and one of the leads having to comfort the other by…making it up to them.

Alejandro’s an intense, romantic man, so it would stand to reason that his p0rnographic preferences would match his personality.

Definitely into body worship and praising, both giving and receiving.

The top lead has to be attentive to the sub lead’s needs, to the point that there are slivers of tears running down their cheeks because they feel so good.

Alejandro also has an unintentional preference for edging.

He won’t let himself finish until the sub lead has first; out of habit more than anything else.

If you walk in on him watching it, he’ll be absolutely shameless.

Will beckon you over with a dashing smile and say something to the effect of: “Mi amor, come here. My lap is lonely without you in it.”

Only uses p0rn as a last resort; so if you’re asleep, or away, or just don’t feel like having sex that night, Alejandro will excuse himself and do his business in the next room.

Nothing compares to you, though; these encounters with nameless couples on a screen cannot hold a candle’s light to the flaming glory of euphoria Alejandro feels whenever he is near you, never mind inside you.

And he reminds you of this daily.

Man’s a nymphomaniac, what can I say /j.

Gaz:

For him, it changes.

He’s the youngest in the 141 so he’s more likely than the rest to experiment (the least likely being Price because he’s found his genre lol).

So, really, it is very difficult to pin down his preferences.

However, I will say he takes a liking to p0rn that is very much unexpected.

I mean Hollywood-tier movie twists and turns that would have any outside observer assume that Gaz was just watching an action film the perfect cover.

He did take a fancy to skydiving p0rn once (just people doing it in the air while they’re skydiving - don’t ask how).

But when the crippling reality of how that would work logistically crossed Gaz’s 500 IQ mind, he lost his passion for it.

Let’s just say, whipping your ween out at that altitude with that much pressure against you while falling at a solid 130 mph is more likely to result in the appendage being taken by the wind than anything else.

Aside from that, Gaz has the widest range of tastes in the 141 since he experiments the most.

He has found he has the strongest preference for threesomes.

Only because he’s kind of fascinated by the concept and how much coordination it would take to execute the whole operation.

It genuinely actually started when he couldn’t get to sleep one night and had to go online to read up on the logistics – how these throuples worked and the statistics associated with them.

And now, here we are; crippling p0rn addiction.

I am actually joking; Gaz doesn’t even jack off the most out of the 141.

Graves:

Threesomes, orgies, gangbangs - you name it, he’ll enjoy it.

Superiority complex; he needs to feel in control over as many people as possible.

As most CEOs do.

As such, anything where the lead is in control is his go-to, though he won’t watch straight-up torture p0rn.

However, the lead is typically disproportionately stronger than the co-lead, so you can take that to mean that Graves watches generic p0rn targeted towards the male mass market; so usually something rough with a storyline so flimsy and thin that the terrible acting is made ever more transparent. Apparent.

Graves looks to p0rn only to fulfil himself; if he wants to feel loved or worshipped he’ll just go to you.

When you’re unavailable, however, he’ll just jerk off to the infinite stream of p0rn he has.

Or, considering how rich he is, he’ll get you to make a sex tape with him and just watch that.

Man’s got the money to make it happen; he ain’t janking it to a 144p video of low-quality blocks doing it.

Into body worship (as previously mentioned).

Also really into foreplay.

His favourite’s a kidnapping scenario. No clue why, I didn’t wanna ask. But I get the distinct impression it has to do, yet again, with his superiority complex.

(Daddy Kink Enjoyer; don’t tell him I told you that).

Valeria:

H A R D C O R E P O R N

Seriously, the amount of sheer sadism and violence it takes to get her off is concerning.

It comes with the territory; you run a cartel, you lose a bit of humanity; it’s the way of the world.

If you’re not around, Valeria will take to watching some of the most toe-curling, gut-wrenching p0rn you’ve never seen.

I’m talking hard BDSM, knife play, blood play - you name it; if it’s violent, Valeria will most likely have gotten off to it.

Has gotten off to security footage of her torture sessions with her victims before now.

However, she isn’t like that with you (unless you want her to be).

If you prefer her to be more gentle, she’ll simply just go and watch p0rn to satiate her more adventurous needs, saving her soft, loving, tender side for you and you alone.

But, if you want to experiment, Valeria will put all that she has acquired through torturing and p0rn consumption and take you on a one-way trip to pound town.

Big fan of lesbian p0rn, regardless of whether she’s actively in a relationship with a woman or not.

For this specific genre, she loves seeing women in strap-ons.

Just does something to her (call it feminism).

Also a big fan of heavy bondage, marking and intimidation.

She simply enjoys dominion over everyone, regardless of gender, identity – it doesn’t matter to her.

And you are no different.

However, she’d never actually hurt you - not in ways you didn’t want her to.

Because, at the end of the day, she loves you more than life itself and would buy the stars to see them sparkle in your smiling eyes.

Rodolfo:

Accidentally clicked on a pop-up for a free iPad once and it was all over from there.

I'm kidding (mostly).

Rudy doesn't jack off very often, what with his work and physical training taking up so much of his time.

As such, his tastes aren't fully developed as of yet, so he's still at the stage where seeing two people sat on the same sofa is too much for him.

Jkjk. But not too far off the mark.

Rudy will watch whatever's popular at the time, but only because he doesn't know what else he likes, and so doesn't actively go searching for it.

He can't stand bad acting.

He understands that it comes with the territory of consuming p0rn, but he doesn't see it as an excuse to be lax when it comes to the believability of the story and the acting.

When he eventually gets sick and tired of it, he'll just go and read an erotic novel.

Has become somewhat of a connoisseur of the erotic book genre; he has favourite authors, authors he wouldn't touch with a barge pole, preferred genres, etc.

His favourite genre at the moment is friends to enemies to lovers reconciliation novels.

Just loves how, no matter how bad things may seem during the book, everything comes together at the end :-).

Everyone gets a happy ending, everything is resolved.

Secretly, he actually enjoys these novels for the story rather than the sexual content.

Please protect him, he's so wholesome <3.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

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syllvane · 1 year

Text

soldier, poet, king - tolya yul-bataar x reader

a/n: reader is sister of nikolai, feminine pronouns are used but no physical characteristics are ever described. ty for all of the love <3

Your brother would fire him if he found out that you had even considered Tolya in a romantic way. Not out of any disdain for him- out of anyone you could have grown fondness for, you were sure that Nikolai would prefer Tolya over the numerous suitors that waited for you back at Os Alta, but out of a protectiveness of you, as if you weren't perfectly capable of taking care of yourself.

“What are you thinking about?” Tamar asked, leaning against the wooden side of the ship, bright eyes looking at you.

”Nothing.”

“You know I can tell when you're lying.”

”When has that ever stopped me?”

Tamar scoffed, a smile pulling at the edges of her lips.

“Never,” She said, her eyes shining. “I don't know why I even ask, your heart only beats like that when you're thinking about my brother.”

Your heart jumped and Tamar let out another breathy laugh, feeling it without any effort.

“Too easy.” She said smugly and you rolled your eyes.

“Not funny.”

“Speak for yourself, moya tsarevna.” She said and you cringed at the title.

“As soon as Nik becomes king, I’m banning you from using that title.”

“Not Tolya though?” She asked, raising an eyebrow and gave her a look.

“I’m going to push you off this boat.”

A firm arm went around your shoulders, startling you and from the other side of you, Tolya grinned down at you.

“Now you know I love you, but why are you threatening to throw my sister off the boat?” He asked jokingly and you prayed to every Saint that your heart wasn’t going as fast as you felt it was.

You looked at Tamar and instantly regretted it, barely contained laughter on her lips.

“As first mate, I demand it.” You said stoically in response, a small smile on your lips and Tolya raised his eyebrows, removing his arm from your shoulder.

“Well, we should at least run it by Sturmhond.”

“Oh who are we kidding, he’d choose you over me everyday.” You joked, able to relax more now that you weren’t in direct contact with Tolya.

“I’ll choose you then.” Tolya said and your smile softened at the sweetness of the sentiment.

“Spoken like a poet.” Tamar teased and Tolya scoffed, but beamed at the accusation.

“Do you think you would be happy, living a life like the one Nikolai and I had?”

“Back in the castle?” Tolya asked and you nodded. “I mean, I know you’re both going to go back eventually. Me and Tamar will be there as your guards.”

“Not as guards though, as… forget it, I’m just being silly.”

Tolya looked at you, studied for you for a moment with only the moonlight illuminating your features, peering off into seemingly endless sea.

“It’s not silly.” He said, moving so that he was ever so slightly closer to you. “I’ve never really thought about it before. Do you think I’d make a good noble?”

“No,” You answered quickly. “You’re too kindhearted. You’re too good.”

“So are you.” Tolya argued and you smiled.

“And I’m hardly the picture of good noble, I ran off with my older brother to play pirate- sorry privateer.” You said. “I’ve always been a better soldier than princess, much to my mother’s dismay. I used to sneak off and follow Nikolai to his basic training instead of go to etiquette classes.”

Tolya snorted and you couldn’t help the smile that appeared on your face.

“I’m glad you skipped your etiquette classes, I like you how you are.”

Your heart jumped. Tolya looked over at you but didn’t say anything.

“Why do you ask? About me being a noble?” He pressed and you shook your head.

“As much as maybe me and Nik want it to, this can’t last forever. We have to go home at some point, him to try to take the throne that Vasily has never wanted, and me to sit around as set dressing, I suppose. To get married. I just… it really is silly, Tolya.” You said, standing up and preparing to walk away before he stood up and quickly caught your wrist, making you look at him.

“Tell me.” He said softly, letting go of your wrist. “Please.”

You took a step closer to him before grabbing his hand and putting it on the cloth covering your heart.

“Do you really not know?” You took a deep breath, painfully aware of how fast your heart was racing. “I’m not asking for marriage or anything like that, I’m asking… I don’t know what I’m asking.”

“May I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

His hands moved to your shoulders and he leaned down, pressing his lips against yours gently. He pulled away, his hands still on you.

“As long as you will have me, I will be here.”

#tolya yul bataar x reader #tolya x reader #tolya yul bataar #tolya yul-bataar x reader #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone #six of crows imagines #six of crows imagine #six of crows #grishaverse #grishaverse imagines #grishaverse x reader #tolya and tamar #nikolai lantsov

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moonrisecoeur · 6 months

Text

contentment - leon kennedy

a/n: this is just me, a dom lady, rambling about leon. idk which leon this is… maybe re4? maybe id? who knows

content: sub leon, afab reader, no pronouns, oral (reader receiving), reader orgasm, manhandling (of leon), degradation, praise, obsessiveness (both), worship, let me know if i missed any!

wc: 3.5k

—

leon’s hands wrap around your waist as he sighs into the kiss, interlocking behind your back. a part of you wonders if this is his way of telling you all the things he doesn’t want to or can’t say out loud. does wrapping his arms around you (trapping you for all intents and purposes) translate to something like ‘please don’t leave me’? you think you might be right because he seems nervous, and he’s never nervous when kissing you. kissing you makes him not nervous. he’s not shy like he used to be.

he was, once upon a time, when he was a rookie and when he was young and fragile and innocent. maybe then he would have blushed and felt nervous when you kissed him. he likes to think he’s matured since then. that may not be incredibly accurate.

he thinks he’s changed, but you seem to believe that deep down, he’s still that soft, fragile person. maybe you’re right. maybe he hasn’t changed at all.

your lips start to slip away from his, moving towards his neck as you use your hand to hold his jaw exactly how you want, manipulating him into just the right position for whatever you plan to do with him. your other hand is wrapped around him, gripping his shoulder for stability. part of him is glad you find stability in him, that he’s provided something of use to you.

sometimes he worries he plays too much of a passive role in your relationship, he thinks about all the expectations he has of himself and how he thinks he should act around you.

….but then again, no one who’s upset about having to do everything, enjoys doing everything as thoroughly as you do. he decided that you just prefer giving, leaving hickeys and touching all over him. you crave reactions, whether verbal or physical. you want to see an effect, the effect you have. so he shows you the effect you have on him. he sometimes feels his life purpose is giving you everything you want.

your lips touch the sweet skin of his neck, but your sharp teeth puncture it. he hisses, body tensing in an almost comfortable sensation of pain.

something deep inside of his soul is mournful at the idea that he has only been able to find comfort in the burning, aching, stabbing, searing sensations that come with pain, because they’re familiar and numbing. only those things bring him back to baseline: moderately miserable.

and yet, he finds himself even more soothed by the way you’re sucking on the skin around the bite and leaving apologetic kisses behind in between. not that you should really have to apologize. leon certainly wasn’t in a place to be expecting apologies when he’s enjoying this so damn much.

plus the cherry on top was always you pulling back to admire your work, maybe even a drop of blood on the corner of your lip. you touch a finger to the sensitive skin, and he doesn’t give a verbal reaction, but he felt it, noticing how tender he’s becoming under your control.

“i think you could stand to have a couple more love bites, don’t you?” you ask him, but it’s obvious how you feel. you’re not really asking him because you want his input, you know his answer.

and he does, because under his tall, dark persona, he is a fragile mess of a man and he’s painfully infatuated with you.

“yeah…” he groans, your hand resting on his neck is distracting at best and dizzying at worst. part of him is screaming at you to just tighten your grip. he thinks it would be super hot if you were just a little bit meaner to him.

“leon,” you whisper in his ear, unintentionally bringing him back to reality.

“yeah?” he responds back, just as low as you. he’s not nervous; he’s never nervous around you, but something in his voice feels.. smaller than usual.

you choose not to push. not now.

“i love you,” you tell him, “thought you might want a reminder, just in case you forgot.”

“i’m not that forgetful,” he laughs, but you see the smile on his face. he never really has a big smile, usually just a faint smirk or a small grin, “i love you.” he says, emphasizing the word ‘you’.

you’ve always known of your feelings for leon. they hit you fast and hard and immediately, like every moment spent in his presence was accompanied by thousands of butterflies aching in your stomach. loving him is an ache in your chest that never quite goes away.,

leon describes his feelings towards you differently. he doesn’t love hard, he loves deeply. him falling for you was a slow maneuver, a quiet and calm descent into a form of madness. he loves from behind the scenes, caring endlessly, but it’s not loud or in your face.

your love is infatuation and ache, his love is protection and devotion. you both love differently but not any more or less.

his love is expressed in how he holds you, hands shifting from being interlocked behind your back to holding onto your hips. translating this moment gives you the impression he’s saying ‘if you don’t do something to me in the next 10 seconds, i’m gonna go insane’.

he groans impatiently as you run your hands across his chest. you almost can’t believe how good you’ve gotten at reading him. although, you can’t take all the credit; he doesn’t exactly make it difficult.

“you’re so easy to rile up,” you say to him with a giggle, a teasing tone laced in your voice. he eats it up, as usual.

he lets out a deep and pathetic groan, “god, you-” one of his fists balls up, pulling away for just a second. he’s slowly unwinding, slowly losing self control.

it was exactly what you wanted. right from the moment you met him, you wanted leon fucking obsessed with you. it was the only way to create some kind of balance in a relationship in which one person was painfully infatuated and one person was (seemingly) unaffected. you wanted him to spend every moment of every day thinking about you, wanting you. that would only make it fair to you, considering how every thought is about him.

turns out the universe gave you exactly what you wanted because leon is everything you crave and so much more. sure, it’s miserable when he has to leave, but he comes back so desperate for you, with maybe millimeters of self control left in his body. he graciously give you a few seconds to recognize what’s happening before he presses the most hasty and desiring kisses to your lips with his hands grasping for anything he can get them on.

in short: he’s obsessed. just how you like him.

even looking at himself now, he notices all the little physical effects of you. the rope burns on his wrists, the bruises from your mouth on his neck, collarbone, thighs, fucking everywhere. he’s almost nervous for when he has a full week off and you take the opportunity to consume him completely.

“what do you wanna do?” you ask, softly. this time it’s a genuine question. he seems kind of out-of-it and you don’t want to push him further than he should go right now.

“can… can you- uh, well, what do you want me to do?”

you shake your head, almost disappointed but not surprised, “no, don’t do that, you know i don’t like that,” you say, hands resting on his waist, fingers brushing against the cotton material of his t-shirt.

what exactly did you not like? him deferring to what you want? not voicing his wants or needs? him trying so damn hard to cater to you? you berate yourself for the harshness of your words as he stands before you, silent but with soft, inquisitive eyes.

“i’m sorry,” you murmur, pressing an apologetic kiss to his lips that he accepts gladly, pulling away just to whisper, “tell me what you want. i’ll give you anything.”

“want you,” he whispers back, but it’s so obvious that you could roll your eyes, “maybe i could.. give you head?”

“yeah?” you groan at the thought of the image of putting him on his knees, pulling his long hair as he gladly puts his mouth to better use. you’d call him a desperate and pathetic mess and he’d adore it, groaning and whimpering against you, begging and pleading for something he’s not quite sure of. maybe he’ll notice the bruises on his knees when he showers in the morning. a nice little surprise for tomorrow.

“can tell you like that idea by that look on your face,” he grins, and you wonder if he can read you just as well as you can read him. you bring a hand up to his jaw, caressing the sweet skin with your thumb, and he hums.

his fingers dance impatiently along your sides as you get lost in your internal fantasy and briefly forgetting the man in front of you.

“hey, if you keep undressing me with your eyes, i’m going to catch a cold,” he jokes, and you hate that you laughed at one of his corny one-liners again.

you pull at the edges of his t-shirt, not moving to take it off (you’re certain you don’t have time to do everything you want to him right now, gotta save that for another time) but instead just rest your hands on his bare waist, leaning closer to him and resting your head on his shoulder, and closing your eyes. you inhale his scent in and really take in the moment with him, fleeting and innocent. he’s here. he’s here with you and not out somewhere saving the world.

that’s probably leon’s biggest weakness: his goodness. he’s always caring, always helping, always trying so fucking hard. screw saving the world, you care that he makes it home safe to you. he’s learned to be less reckless only at your request.

“get on your knees,” you say, suddenly, shockingly. leon was clearly in some other universe when you spoke those words to him, judging by him jumping a bit at your sudden command. it’s not one he hesitates to give in to, because he takes a small step back and falls to his knees immediately.

you discard your pants and underwear, throwing them to some unimportant corner of the room. you get up close to him, so close that if he just leaned in a little more, he could taste you. but he’s learned that while you wouldn’t stop him nor say anything if he moved to devour you then and there, there’s something else you like more. if he holds back and begs for it, for you, for you to use him to get yourself off without any regards for him or his pleasure (he could get off just watching you cum but that’s besides the point), you’d go crazy. he likes you crazy.

oh, the look you’d give him. he can picture it. you’d roll your eyes to the side, covering your mouth with the back of your hand. he loves to watch you lose yourself in the fantasy that builds in your head, the intense power trip you get is so plainly displayed on your face.

he loves it. loves watching you lose your cool, slipping from funny and goofy and sarcastic to fiery and dominant and uncontrollable. it’s like all those fantasy books that describe eyes getting darker with desire, that would be you. he sees how badly you crave him. serves you fucking right for taking up so much space in his head.

“use me,” he groans, and you silently caress his face with your hand, letting your thumb drag against his lips, pulling the bottom one down slightly before retreating.

“yeah?” you whisper, running your fingers through his hair. so long and pretty, so perfect for pulling.

the motion had stunned him briefly, but his confidence returns just after, “use me and grind against my face, pull my hair so i cry out in pain for you,” he knows you like that, given by the weakness on your face. you’re cracking. he’s got you, “take what you want from me, and leave me a desperate mess. please.”

the voice crack he lets out when pleading for you wasn’t intentional, but not unwelcome, because you really seem to like it.

there it is. the look.

your eyes roll to the side before centering on him, darkening just as he imagined.

“fuck, babe,” you groan, your voice raspy as your head fills with possible images of him, but you stop yourself from daydreaming. not when leon was right in front of you, begging you to be selfish and take what you want from him. so, you let yourself be selfish.

your fingers in his hair grasp tightly at the strands, and he gasps before being thrust between your legs.

“you’re such a fucking slut, baby, god- i love it,” you say as he gets right to work, lapping up the juices of your wet pussy with vigor and brushing his nose against your clit. your legs give out for a second, but he grips your thighs to steady you. even in this high of being between your legs, he’s still looking out for you, as always.

something in his stomach burns when you say that word. s-l-u-t. his ego hates it because it couldn’t be further from the truth. if anything he was just a little promiscuous. who was that really hurting?

but his dick apparently loves it when he’s being degraded, because he feels it twitch in his pants.

he moans while eating you out, intentionally most of the time, because 1) you like it when he’s vocal and 2) the vibrations of his voice against you feel immensely good. but the whimpers are never intentional. you pull especially tightly on his blonde hair, and he cries out in a temporary pain.

he thinks he likes servicing you more than you doing anything for him because it makes him feel useful to you, and it’s easier to let himself be loved when he can justify it to himself. it may not be the healthiest way to go about his relationship but nothing compares to the high of being called your-

“good, good fucking boy, leon, shit-” you gasp, eyebrows furrowing as you close your eyes, grip on his hair tightening, “let me go real quick, i need to be laying down for this.” he does and you stumble backwards into his bed. if you wouldn’t slap it off his face, he’d smirk at how affected you seem already. instead, he just internalizes your praise, letting it stick to him and hoping it never leaves, “well? what are you waiting for? come finish what you started.”

he stands to walk over, kneeling down again by the edge of the bed and leaning his head down back to your pussy, picking up where he left off. except this time your legs are wrapped around his head.he thinks he could die here and die happy.

“god, leon, fuck,” you mutter, briefly wondering if he was actually the god you were calling out to, if he was the answer to all of your prayers towards the universe. if the horrors you had to face was the price to pay for a god to be worshiping you on his knees, a literal god, then it would have been worth it ten times over.

you muse over what kind of god leon would be. in his infinite goodness, perhaps he’d have been a merciful, kind god, granting serenity and happiness wherever he touched. which was ironic, considering he didn’t ever touch those emotions with his own hands, unless yours was holding his.

he works silently, but tirelessly, feeling himself get fatigued but pushing past the feeling until you tell him to stop. you use your grip on his hair to manipulate his mouth to exactly where you need it.

“you’re so good, so fucking good to me,” you say, playing with the shorter hairs at the base of his neck, then dragging your nails against his neck and scalp.

even though the gesture is not a foreign one, you physically feel him shiver and twitch beneath your hands. he curses under his breath.

talk about a fucking power trip. how were you not supposed to be a narcissist when leon crumbled beneath you at the simplest things?

“you-! fuck, use your teeth, baby. don’t be gentle,” you tell him. he does like hurting you, but he still does it, begrudgingly loving the desperate sounds you make. you cry out, readjusting your tight grip on his hair, and he can’t stop his hand coming up to your outer thigh, resting gently, reassuringly, and apologetically. isn’t it funny that he did what you told him to and yet he’s trying to apologize?

“leon,” you catch his attention, and he worries you’re about to tell him to remove his hand. he would, but it would sadden him, “make me cum,” you order, and that’s more his speed. a command. a mission. something he can fulfill a purpose with, something quantifiable for him to use to justify to himself that he deserves you.

so he sets out to complete that mission. he fucks you with his tongue, breathing heavy and nose rubbing against your clit rhythmically. his hand on your leg doesn’t move, still gentle and he even uses his thumb to caress the skin of your thigh. he’s copying your chosen method of comfort, like how you did when you gently held his jaw, soothing him with your touch on his cheek.

while leon is your god, you are his. he worships the ground you walk on, abiding to your will, giving in to you. you would never (because what has he ever done in his life to deserve it?) but you could walk all over him and he’d grin and bear it. he’d take it. even enjoy being of use to you.

he looks up at you, angel eyes as always. sometimes you forget that behind his harsh features, like his furrowed eyebrows and usual frown, his eyes are the softest, lightest blue. like the calm waters that lure you into a false sense of security. he could be a siren, luring you in for the kill, and you’d let him do it.

you look down at him, power and dominance exuding out of you. leon crumbles under the intensity of your gaze, breath hitching as he gives you his all, because he always is. when is he not giving you his everything? you could ask him to rip his heart out of his chest for you. and, ironically, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

he pushes you over the edge, and you feel it hit you like the waves of the waters of his eyes, the oceans that surround you when he’s near, drowning you in his touch and fire and soul. it envelops you, the warmth spreading throughout your body as you grind against his face, intent on getting the most out of one measly orgasm as possible. he lets you use him, because using him means you want him and need him and that’s all he could ever ask, ever crave.

you let go of him, the force pushing him back sitting on his heels. you motion for him to get up and lay with you with your hand, and he follows. you feel his strong arms hold you close and your bodies collide into one. you look at him, his lips swollen and the wetness of your orgasm covers his chin and nose, but he licks it off of his lips, making an erotic amount of eye contact.

“you don’t have to go,” you whisper to him, voice suddenly softer than before. you wish, considering how good he was at listening to you most of the time, that he conceded. he doesn't.

but he does. he has a few precious hours left before he has to leave. he doesn’t want to, but he knows better than to go against the people that threaten the lives of those he holds dear. he thinks about sherry for a moment. he thinks about claire, and ada, and you.

he has to go. and he has to come back. for you. he never used to care whether or not he made it out alive during missions, but now that he knows you’re waiting patiently for him, he can’t ever let you down, ever let you feel that pain.

he won’t leave. not permanently, at least.

#sub leon kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #re4 remake #resident evil 4 #leon kennedy x you #leon s. kennedy #leon kennedy smut #resident evil 4 remake #sub leon kennedy smut #resident evil #leon kennedy resident evil #resident evil smut #reader insert #smut #re4 smut #re4 #re2 leon #re4 leon

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untitledmemes · 3 months

Text

Hazbin Hotel Prompts

Part I An assortment of prompts taken from the series Hazbin Hotel on Amazon Prime. Adjust as necessary to fit pronoun and/or descriptor. In case of Multimuse, don't forget to specify which one/s. Reblog, please do not repost or add.

“ Oh, shit. Did you hear all of that? ”

“ I enjoy your theatrics. ”

“ I just hope what I'm trying to do here will work. ”

“ Well hello there, you wayward sinner. Do you like blood, violence and depravity of a sexual nature? ”

“ Your last attempt at salvation starts here. ”

“ Thank you so much for making this. Seriously. Amazing. ”

“ Oh, fun. You had a little fun with it? ”

“ Sex sells, don't it? ”

“ I really don't want to exploit you in that way. ”

“ This body was made to be exploited. ”

“ I could keep goin' all night, baby. ”

“ Why do you think I'm here? ”

“ I like being forced. ”

“ I'm choosing to be here, and I think it's all stupid. ”

“ That's kind of the end of the road, ain't it? ”

“ Just because nobody made it out before, doesn't mean it's not possible. ”

“ There's just no way I could blow it, not this once in a lifetime chance. ”

“ It's a happy day in hell. ”

“ Ha! I fucking got you!. ”

“ So, I'm happy we got this opportunity to meet. ”

“ I need you to be less horny, if possible. ”

“ I ain't no actor! I can't memorize this shit! ”

“ So, anyway, we fucked and it was awesome. ”

“ Fucking love putting my name on shit. Shit's the best. ”

“ Alright, um, maybe we can try and fix it in post. ”

“ Seems like you're having a bit of trouble there, hm? ”

“ I wouldn't try that, my dear. ”

“ I don't care who or what you are. If you're staying here, you are going to make this work. ”

“ Awesome job, danger tits. Pound it. ”

“ Those are my people. You know that, right? ”

“ They had their chance and they earned damnation. ”

“ How does that feel? To know how little you matter. ”

“ Let me stop you right there, save us all precious time. ”

“ Did I hear you imply they don't deserve death? ”

“ It means we're all royally fucked. ”

“ We should just go down there now and destroy them. ”

“ Oh please, you had less than half a chance when you started all this. ”

“ Well, it's not like people are going to show up at our doorstep. ”

“ Now that's good television. ”

“ Whatever could be the problem, my dear? ”

“ Fuck my life. ”

“ I have a fire to put out upstairs. ”

“ Well, looks like you have everything under control here. ”

“ Take care of the piss baby. ”

“ That fucking slut walked out on me. ME. I fucking made him! ”

“ Which of these makes me look sexier? ”

“ What are you doing? You're not going over there. ”

“ Now that's why they pay you the big bucks. ”

“ I think he's had enough. ”

“ Thank you... For letting your guard down! ”

“ Can't let my new project fall into disrepair already. ”

“ That fucker is back! ”

“ You still pissed he almost beat you that time? ”

“ Things changed a lot since he left town. ”

“ Welcome home. I'm gonna make you wish that you stayed gone. ”

“ Did anybody miss him? Did anybody notice? ”

“ Where's he been? Who gives a shit? ”

“ You old timey prick, I'll show you suffering. ”

“ I'm gonna make you wish that I'd stayed gone. ”

“ How exactly are we supposed to stop it? ”

“ Who would want to use their last days not fucking and fighting? ”

“ I didn't come looking for a fight. ”

“ Aren't you supposed to protect this place? ”

“ I give you a week. Tops. ”

“ It's nice to have someone interested for once. ”

“ Never leave me again. ”

“ I definitely remember you now. ”

“ It's great, right? Keep going. ”

“ The only cool thing has is to say no to drugs. ”

“ I'm off to not have sexual intercourse before marriage! ”

“ You like me. You really like me! ”

“ You actually think you can change? ”

“ You slippery little shit! ”

“ I fucking knew there was something shitty about you. ”

“ Get your aggressively average body off of me! ”

“ This little bitch is a traitor! ”

“ Wait, you were caught? It hasn't even been a day! ”

“ The path to forgiveness is a twisting trail of hearts, but sorry is where it starts. ”

“ Why are you so lame? ”

“ You'll have to try better than that next time, ol' pal. ”

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intimacyequalsdeath · 7 months

Text

Bubz's Slasher Fictober: Day 3 Poly Ghostface Part 1 (Billy and Stu) (Apple Cider)

Day 4! If it isn't obvious by now I wrote like most of these in September so I could post them way easier when October is here so shout out to past me for planning ahead.

Part 2 to this fic here

Notes: Minors DNI, Suggestive themes, Gender neutral reader, no specific pronouns. This is a poly relationship fic so if you aren't into it then this is not the fic for you.

"Stu that's insane" You said as he leaned against the locker next to yours, He laughed.

"Oh come on babe, Billy doesn't have to know anything"

"And you'd really think we'd be able to get away with it?" You asked incredulously, To try and do something behind Billy's back was a risk.

"Yeah babe totally. Me and you, in and out, and good ole Billy would be none the wiser" You closed your locker and leaned against it looking at him.

"Fine, If you really think we'll get away with this, But I swear Stu if Billy finds out-" Stu grabbed your shoulders.

"He won't babe, Stu's got you"

Before third period Stu had approached you with an idea, Billy had some things to take care of and wouldn't be able to do the boys usual Ghostface schtick that him and Stu usually manned. So Stu had come to you, their precious significant other, to help stalk out the next victim.

Billy had always been very much so against you EVER joining them on their excursions ever since they had come clean that they were the Ghostface. Stu had always agreed to keep Billy quiet but he had teased and propositioned you in what you thought was a joking way before until this time around.

The two of you knew that if Billy found out Stu had even so much as thought to invite you to join him while Billy was off doing other things that there would be hell to pay. But it was just a stake out to choose the next victim they wanted to go after, Stu figured it wouldn't be that bad.

"I'll do it then, If you promise Billy won't find out then fine let's do it" You told him, A wicked grin spread across his face.

"Oh babe! I knew you'd say yes!" Stu brought you into a hug and kissed the side of your head "I'll pick you up later tonight and you can even pick who it is!". If Stu Macher was anything, it was enthusiastic.

================================================

Later that night Stu arrived at your house as promised. You left your house through your window as usual and got in the passenger seat of Stu's parents car.

"It's time baby! You're gonna love it I promise" Stu said as you opened the door to get in.

"Sure Stu, I'm more so just interested to see what my boys do when I'm not around" Which was the truth, You'd always wanted to see just how the Ghostface attacks went down and how they singled out who they went after.

"One day maybe it'll be me, you and Billy, Like one big happy family, You pick the victims, me and Billy go after them. It'll be great!" Stu said as he pulled away from your house and heading towards the destination to stake out.

"You know that would take a lot of convincing on Billy's part though"

"That's why we start here, and one day we tell Billy about this and show him how good you did! Then he won't be able to deny how much of a natural you are"

"Stu it's just a stakeout I thought? Like all we're doing is picking one of these sorry pieces of shit to go after" Stu nodded.

"It is, but this is a gateway into your life of the Ghostface, and here we are!"

You looked at the window and noticed you and Stu were pulled off into a shadowy part of the backroad down the road from a house you recognized from a few parties you had went to with the boys.

It was about ten at night at this point and you knew the black car would be almost impossible to see behind the trees you were covered by so you and Stu would be impossible to see.

"Now I do have to warn you this is the boring part, We need to make sure we know when their gonna be home and when they aren't so we know when to strike" Stu told you.

You and Stu then sat in silence for about an hour just watching the house and the people who lives there coming home for the night. You were startled out of the silence by your cellphone ringing.

"It's Billy" You told Stu starting to get nervous, Stu sighed

"Just tell him your sick at home doing homework or something" Stu told you, you shakily answered.

"Hello?" You answered the phone softly.

"Hey baby" Billy's voice poured down the phone like honey.

"What's up?" You asked him "Did you get your shit done?"

"Yeah baby I did, What are you up too?" You froze then remembered what Stu told you to say.

"Oh I'm just laying down and all, I didn't feel so hot after school"

"Really?" Billy asked

"Yeah my stomach started feeling upset" You heard Billy sigh then pause for a second through the phone.

"Well see baby that actually funny, you know why?" Shit.

"Why Billy?" You asked, still hoping to play innocent.

"Well it's funny cause I'm standing in your room right now and you aren't fucking here" You turned your head and frantically tapped Stu on the shoulder to get his attention.

"Billy" You said at a loss for what else to say.

"Don't give me that shit, where the fuck are you?" Billy was angry, You could almost feel the anger through the phone.

Stu now obviously listening in to the call started the car and then grabbed the phone from you.

"Hey Billy man why don't you meet us at my house, We'll see you then, bye!" and then he hung up.

"STU! why would you hang up !?" You knew that would've pushed Billy passed the point of being furious.

"Relax babe just let Stu handle this"

A few minutes late the two of you had pulled into Stu's driveway, his parents way on another trip to some other country. Stu brought you to his room to sit on his bed and wait for Billy to arrive.

A little while later after many hushed words trying to calm you down from Stu, The two of you heard the front door slam open then shut once again, and angry hurried footsteps run up the stairs.

As soon as Stu's bedroom door opened Billy started yelling.

'What in the fuck do you two think your doing?"

"Billy It's not-" Billy didn't stop.

"No, you're gonna wait a second, I fucking told the two of you I didn't want you to be involved in mine and Stu's shit"

"Billy it wasn't all that, It was just a stakeout" Stu piped up. Billy's head snapped to look at Stu.

"Billy c'mon, don't be mad, like Stu said it wasn't all that. I was never in any danger or anything. We kept it from you cause we knew you were gonna be mad" You explained trying to diffuse any confrontation between your two boys before it started.

'That's not the point and you know it, the three of us agreed that you would never be involved at all. The two of you went behind my fucking back and violated something I only put in place to fucking protect you" Billy's anger wasn't dissipating but at least he wasn't yelling anymore.

Billy exhaled and sat next to you on the bed, you wrapped your arm around his shoulders in an attempt to start calming him down.

"Billy we're sorry, we knew you were gonna be mad and still did it, but do you really think Stu would've let me go along if I was actually going to be in any real danger"

Stu appeared on the opposite side of you as you spoke.

"Yeah man, you know I love Y/n as much as you do, If I thought things were gonna get hairy I wouldn't of even thought about the two of us going, especially not without you"

Billy sighed once again but you felt some of the tension leaving his body. You rubbed his shoulder willing him to speak what was on his mind.

"It's not just about dangerous shit like that though, It's also about if for some fucking reason we ever get caught. I want you to have no ties to it at all. You aren't apart of it and you don't know anything"

You nodded in understanding, that anger wasn't cause Billy was actually mad he was just scared. Billy continued.

"When I got to your house and went through your window expecting you to be there only to see that you weren't, I got I don't know, I got really fucking scared. Even though my brain knew you were probably with Stu knowing what we do and what danger you could really be in scared the shit out of me."

Stu scooted closer and wrapped his arm around your shoulders as you brought Billy closer to lean against you as you leaned back into Stu.

"We're sorry we scared you Honey, we honestly just thought it would be a help for me to fill in since you had shit to do tonight and couldn't. Sure we thought you were gonna be mad if you found out but we didn't mean to scare you"

"Yeah man, the last thing we wanted to do was that. I wasn't thinking shit through and thought it would be fun if maybe one day it was the three of us together instead of just me and you"

"I guess it would be nice but I still stand by what I said, for now at least please, I don't want you apart of it" Bill said looking at you, you smiled and nodded before leaning over and placing your lips on his frown.

You felt Stu's hands run up your sides, and tug at your shirt, You playfully rolled your eyes before letting him take your shirt off. Billy let out a laugh before connecting your lips once more.

Stu's lips attached themselves to your neck and Billy's hands made their way down to your pants to unbutton them and move them down your legs. Billy tossed your pants to the floor as you got up onto your knees on the bed in front of him.

Stu wrapped his arms around your middle and placed his chin on your shoulder with a smirk.

"Maybe if I dressed like this you'd let me come with you guys?" You teased.

"Certainly babe" Stu said, Billy shook his head.

"You two spend too much time around each other" he said, placing his hands underneath Stu's on your hips.

"Maybe you should spend some time with us and show us what we're missing" You smirked at him.

"Maybe I will"

#slasher x reader #slasher fandom #stu macher #billy loomis #scream #scream movie #poly ghostface #ghostface x reader #ghostface #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #poly ghostface x reader #Fictober #halloween

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chubbyheadquarters · 1 year

Text

♡First Valentine's Day With Them ♡

Genre: Romantic + Platonic

Pronouns: Gender-Neutral

TW/CW: None

Character(s): LMK Crew

A sorry post for being away for so long. There's another post stating why. Also, this one's a bit long, so prepare! Started writing this three days ago so sorry if there are any grammar errors, I wanted to get this out on time.

🐵Mk🐵

He's so adorable and sweet about it, it's absolutely teeth rotting. He looks up places that he thinks you'll like, see if he can get matching accessories, your favorite flowers. Everyone finds it cute- Pigsy just wishes he would put some of that effort into his deliveries.

When the day comes, he's at your home early in the morning with a giant bouquet and card with a drawing of you two. You gush about it, placing both in a safe place before giving him your gift. He's ecstatic upon seeing it, seeing as it's the new game he wanted so badly! Ugh, he loves you so much. 💖

He'll dash you away to the arcade, trying to win all the prizes he can for you, and after that, it's off to a cute little cafe that just opened. You're both enjoying your time there,goofing off and sharing treats. Of course, you end it off at Pigsy's, getting some noodles and joking around. Pigsy's so happy for his son.

At the end of the day, you thank him for the wonderful and sleep over. He's never cleaned his room do fast before-Mk's really happy that he was able to get you to smile so much. You enjoyed your time with him, and him with you. He couldn't imagine anything more perfect than this. He feels so lucky to have you as his Valentines.

☀️Sun Wukong☀️

Why choose one day to confess your love, when you can do it any or every day? What's special about THAT specific day? He doesn't get it, but he'll try his best. He'll look up what he can do, stuff he can get you, and make a quick pit stop to a food place and get you your favorite foods the day before Valentine's.

He thinks this'll be a peace of cake. After all, he's Sun Wukong! There's nothing he can't do! ... Except get rid of the nervousness that he feels as the day gets closer. What if you think it's too little? Maybe you'll see it as him taking you for granted? That he doesn't care?... Maybe he should improvise his plan a bit more.

Day of, he's at your home, inviting you to Flower Fruit Mountain. You're excited to see what he's planned, since he kept hyping it up. When you arrive, you're bombarded with gifts from the other monkeys. Fruit, flowers, little trinkets they may have stolen from Wukong's stash. It's incredibly cute and has you gushing and hugging them.

He'll bring out the food he got, along with a small cake just for you. It's kind of like a feast, and you're laughing a bit. He's a bit confused, but when you tell him how happy you are to see him put thought into this, he's beaming with pride. After stuffing your faces, you decide to hit the hay, cuddling and whispering sweet words to each other.

🌙Macaque🌙

He thinks it's a bit odd, and silly might he add, but he decides to make an effort for you. He'd start thinking about what to do, maybe make a nice dinner and get you that one item you've been eyeing. End it off with a shared night of cuddles. That should be good, right? Pfft, he's got this in the bag-

No. No he does not. As the day gets closer, he's becoming more nervous. Maybe he could take you out to a nice restaurant? He doesn't have a lot for money, nor does he like being in crowded places, but this IS an important day. He wants you to see how much you mean to him, how much you've helped him. He doesn't want you to think you're being taken for granted.

On the day of, he does his best to act all cool headed, but you can tell he's nervous. Color him surprised as you bring out a stash of gifts, from a bouquet of purple flowers that reminded you of him to an array of his favorite snacks that you personally made. You even got him some art and theatre supplies for if he ever wants to continue on that path.

He can't help but break down. It's been...so long since he's felt such warmth, so much love poured his way. He's been alone for such a long time, so having you here with him and spoiling him makes him feel absolutely blessed. After helping him calm down, you decide to have movie night, laughing and stuffing your faces. He decides that next year, he'll take you somewhere nice. A little vacation for just the two of you.

🐉Mei🐉

You're texted as soon as it hits Valentine's Day. A plaster of heart emojis and an extensive plan to fill up the day. You think it's cute, but with how long the list of locations were, you highly doubted that you'd be able to do everything. Still, you were excited to see what the day would bring.

You're bombarded with gifts. Flowers, chocolates, matching jewels. It's a bit boggling, but it's really sweet. And when you bring up the list, she's dead seat on hitting them all. You've gotta experience the best date after all! You tell her that it's fine if you don't hit them all, and that it's most likely impossible-

Nope. You hit every single location on that list. You we're swept to all sorts of restaurants and had a wide array of sweets/food, gone to the arcade and given all of the prizes. Heck, she even took you shopping to get some matching clothes, along with some she just thought looked great on you.

By the time you're heading home, you've got a large assortment of gifts. Of course, she helps you sort it into your closet and decided to stay the night. After a movie or two, you're passed out from all the energy you've spent. She'll fall asleep right after, dreaming of what she'll do for you next year.

🔥Red Son🔥

Nothing but the absolute best for his beloved. After all, it's what you deserve. Don't worry. He's got the whole day planned out. No need for you to stress about it. He's done all the research he could need, and he's absolutely confident in his plans to woo you. 😎 Liar, he's so fucking nervous.

First, he'll give you the present he's worked so hard on. A sick ass motorcycle. It's okay if you don't know how to ride it. He can teach you, plus more time spent together. Then, he'll take you to the finest restaurant, where it's only you two in a room, since no one deserves to sit in your radiance.

After that, you'll take a walk around the park, just taking in the silence and enjoying each other's company. When that's over, you'll be taken back to his house, where he'll surprise you with a shit ton of more presents he hid in his room. As said before, only the best for you.

When all the excitement has left, and it's just you two watching a movie in his room, he'll hold you close, thanking you for being with him. He didn't expect to find love, because he wasn't really looking for it, but he's glad it found him in the form of you. He can't imagine life without you, nor does be want to.

💙Sandy💙

You and Sandy have been buddies since like, forever, and you've both started the tradition of spending Valentine's together. You don't exactly remember how it happened, but it did and you're so glad it did. It's a nice way to give more gifts and spend another day together. It reminds you of how close your friendship is.

You both decide to go to a cute tea shop near by and talk about anything and everything positive, like what you think your future holds, what hobby you picked up, any new plans? Make any new friends? Others who pass by can't help but feel invigorated by the intense positivity that you and Sandy exude.

At his place, you'll do some yoga, both laughing when either one of you does a silly mistake. Once that's done, you'll help take care of the precious cats and spoil them, giving them their favorite treats and petting them to their hearts content. They'll be laying all over you two as you sit down and enjoy a movie. All around, it's a really nice and calm day.

🐷Pigsy + Tang📕

These lovable idiots probably don't know what to get at first. What do you get your friend that doesn't seem so...cliche? Tang was fine getting you something simple, like those great looking chocolates, but Pigsy wasn't. He wanted it to be more that. I mean, you were their good friend after all! And you've been along for the journey! Gotta spruce it up!

So they play to their strengths and do what they do best. Pigsy makes you a bowl of your favorite noodles-and his best one may he add. Tang, on the other hand, decided to gift you a book that you happened to have your eye on... Along with those nice looking chocolates.

Though Pigsy gets upset, you're quite happy with the gifts, thanking them for caring so deeply. You gift Pigsy a new set of kitchenware, while giving Tang a ticket for a week long bufffet, free, might you add. Safe to say, they were in tears. You all shared the chocolate, happy to spend the day together.

🌕Chang'e🌕

Don't you even worry your pretty little head, she's got this covered. It's all been planned out, so now you just have to wait for Valentine's Day to arrive. It doesn't help your curiosity when she gets excited thinking about it, the way she smiles like she's got it in the bag.

When the day arrives, she's up bright and early, getting the presents ready and later on begins cooking. You can smell it, and before you know it, you're up and heading to the kitchen. To day you were shocked is an understatement.

My girl has literally made you feast, filling the table to the brim with your favorite dishes. Seeing it all makes you hungry, and your crying at how good it is. And if you'll let her, she'll feed you herself. Watching you enjoy her cooking, something she pours her heart and soul into, makes her overjoyed.

Afterwards, you'll take a stroll, cuddling with the rabbits and just goofing around. When it's time for the Valentine's special for her show, you're welcomed as her cooking assistant and partner. It's a bit nerve wrecking at first, but you're both having fun and giggling by the end of it. You've both gotten fan mail and such about how cute y'all are and how they hope y'all stay together forever. She hopes so too.💙

🕷Spider Gang🕷

So, like, they can't really go above the ground, so no surface dates. Buuut that doesn't mean that you can't improvise. You can sneak stuff in and nobody would suspect a thing. And they don't, since they're busy trying to readjust from the LBD incident and get back into the groove.

When Valetines arrives, you're calling everyone go the meeting room, where they see a giant table decked with all the foods, desserts and drinks they like. They're surprised. Don't get them wrong, it's a lovely surprise, but how the hell did you sneak a hug ass table in-

Spider Queen is given a pair of earrings and necklace, along with some wine she had been craving. Syntax was given new parts for him to build with, along with new blueprint paper, since he was running out. Hunstman got a bunch of tea. You noticed him really enjoying some that Sandy gave him so you decided to get him some more. Strong Spider got workout equipment that suited his needs and wouldn't break so easily.

They not able to really show it, since they're not used to it, but they're really happy. You decided to spend this day with them, giving them gifts with thought and love put into them, and spend the rest of the day hanging out and laughing with them. And when they ask why, you're acting like they asked a dumb question. "You guys are my best friends! Of course I'm gonna get you something nice!" Don't look at them they're crying-

🔶Yin & Jin🔷

Ah, these dummies. As we all know, they're not the brightest, but this time, they're using every bit of their brain power to think of what to get you. You're a dear friend, one who's wrecked shit with them, and you're always there for them when they need you.

You're not really expecting anything, since to you, it's just a normal day. So imagine your surprise when these two bombard you with an assortment of random gifts. The food you've been craving, some nice smelling flowers, a bunch of miscellaneous stuff that you remember mentioning. Don't ask them where they got it from-

Y'all play some ping pong and arcade games that they had at home, along with some card games, ending the day off with you making something for them, with the three of you goofing off, laughing and poking fun at cheesy romance movies. All in all, a fantastic day for you three.

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purgatory-if · 6 months

Text

demo (tba) | faq | masterpost (you are here.) | art cred @aykaypee

You’re in danger, and every fiber of you knows it.

You’re sure, by now, that no matter what you do you won’t be able to stop it. Maybe that’s a good thing.

...This is the end.

You wish you had something that would remember you.

... YOUR life is a mystery to you when you wake up in the sunny fields of Purgatory. Apparently death isn't supposed to be a full memory wipe to the soul, but that's no problem, right? There's usually some sort of record kept of this kind of thing. If not for special cases like yours, then at the very least for organizational purposes. You're told all of that, assured that nothing is wrong and that this jsut 'happens' sometimes up until the moment they look for yur death and find nothing to speak of. Nothing of your life, either, just to make a bad time even worse.

Without knowing anything like this, it's safe to say that it'll be impossible to pass on. The underworld isn't built for fringe cases like you and even if it was, not even knowing who you were is disconcerting at best and cause for crisis at worst.

So alright. It shouldn't be too hard to find out how one person died, right? Detectives and story characters do it all the time- and now you have all the time in the world.

You should, anyways.

... FEATURES include:

play as a seriously unlucky pc whose cause of death depends on which route you decide to pursue

be whoever you want to be! standard for ifs nowadays; things such as pronouns, general appearance, personality all that jazz

8 romance options (mostly fem/non-binary, 1 option you can choose the gender of) and the ability to play as aro and/or ace

at least 4 poly romance routes!

love me some good vanity stats! vanity stats

get recruited (read: forced) into a 9-5 where time isn't real

beat up time

really symbolic mythology! i could write a goddamn essay on these fuckers

... PURGATORY is recommended for players over the age of 15, though I’m not going to police what you do on the internet. The game will contain major character death and death of all kinds, what is probably sacrilege, memory loss, fantasy violence, potentially sexually suggestive scenes and dialogue (hi ama.), morally dubious behaviour, and more. In-depth content warnings for each chapter and specific routes will be released at a later date.

... 'MAIN' CHARACTERS

THE DIVINE.

Angel (prns selectable) / Witty, charismatic, more than a little bloodthirsty, there's a certain volatility about someone who is Fate embodied. While they take their time on the many, many field missions necessary for stability in the multiverse or whatever very seriously, they'll put their restless passion into anything if it catches their eye for long enough.

Achlys (they/them) / Death itself, stoic and sharp and more than a little intimidating, it's hard not to let their mere presence get under your skin. While it would be nice to say that's not an intentional effect, the only unintentional thing about them is the fact that they're down here, of all places. They seem to be making the best of it.

Esme (they/them) / An angel in what is certainly an analogy for hell, classic, isn't it? They're little more than a shambling mess in a skirt if we're being honest, oh so scared of any shadow that moves in the corner of their vision. They truly do wear their heart on their sleeve, which seems to be an invitation for some to try and stop its frantic beat.

Amaterasu (she/they) / Don't let her meet your parents, is the only advice I'd give, because she'd be gunning for at least a threesome by the time starters are served. Unflinchingly forward and seductive, they're horribly charming in the most impermanant of ways. There's nothing she'll shy away from trying sooner or later, it seems, in or out of the bedroom.

THE MORTALS.

Viviana Alatorre (she/her) / Businesslike. Some people really don't change when they die, and going to this office just means you see the sun less on your coimmute. She doesn't appear to be dead, or alive, something in the middle. Out of everyone here, she's probably the most terrifying. Even more than the death god, probably because she's actively working towards terror.

Ailbhe Kahinu (she/it) / There's nothing that troubles Ailbhe, and it wouldn't be concerning if she was... y'know, dead. In the face of certain terror, it faces things with a shrug and a sigh. At least she's good-natured about this whole thing, being dragged down here by both her girlfriend (Vivi) and her sister (Rahley). The prices here are better than aboveground, anyways.

Rahley Kahinu (she/her) / Rahley's been compared to a robot more than one time, and while the comparison probably wasn't in good faith that doesn't mean it was necessarily wrong. She's intensely focused on her work, and her skill in that department seems to have drained her ability in things like basic conversation and empathy. So it goes.

M Blankenship (prns selectable) / Previously called 'Hit 'N Run' in the world of roller derby, the violent nickname seems odd on someone as cheerful as M. They act as a sort of tour guide for souls entering the Underworld proper instead of hanging around Purgatory, and it's hard to say their easy extroversion makes them anything worse than great at their job.

THE CONSTANTS.

Stratos C. Lusse (he/him) / The eternal guide to Purgatory for souls lost, souls found and all who are inbetween. He seems to have been here the longest--minus all of the deities, of course.

Octavia Hardin (she/her) / The part-time guide to Purgatory. She seems more likely to throw your soul into damnation if you cross her or anybody she cares about. Stay on her good side!

Salem Astor (she/her) / She would be a romance option if I had the energy to code in a shop feature. But I don't. So she runs free through the city.

Abbadon (prns selectable) / Personification of the past. If anyone can help you figure out what the hell happened to you, then they should be the one to go to. Sometime in the next 5 centuries would be ideal.

Maliel (prns selectable) / Personification of the future. Again, probably someone who can find out in a second what you'll know when you figure out this mystery, if you're able to find them at a good time. The woes of being a primordial deity.

...and more! Probably. Co-workers, pirates, other deities but this is running long.

#if: intro #interactive fiction #if game #if wip #choice of games #interactive game #twine game #twine if #interactive novel #twine wip #purgatory if #masterpost

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leviathanspain · 10 months

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i just saw your guidelines , thank you!! sorry it flew right over my head, i appreciate you for directing me to the page when you responded :D

i have two ideas but you may choose which one interests you the most!! thank you again so much, i love your writing <3

would like a kylo ren x reader please, pronouns can be whatever you'd like but i prefer she/her. the point of view is up to you! i prefer second but i think you prefer third and/or first and i don't mind either or!

the first idea is kylo and y/n have been together for two years but it was kept within the first order and not public because kylo knew people (like the resistance) might use it against him. maybe during a fight between the first order and the resistance on a planet, y/n would get kidnapped by the resistance. this was finn's idea because he knows kylo has a significant other. what the resistance does with y/n is up to you, whether it be to lead kylo into some sort of trap, or to get information out of her, a mix of both... it's all up to you! finn knows that she's his only weakness. eventually kylo will save her. bonus points if she's in rough shape and in bad physical condition. kylo gets really upset because he thinks he’s doing a bad job keeping her safe and that he failed to protect her. angsty , self-loathing kylo but y/n trying to make him feel better.

the other idea has a bit of angst aspects as well but less action. it’s been about half a year or maybe even a year of kylo and y/n dating. everyone knows of his anger issues and tantrums. not even stormtroopers will want to be within 10 feet of him when he’s having an “episode”. the only person who would go up to him is y/n. one time kylo was so upset that he didn’t think before acting. when y/n went to calm him down he hurt her. nothing too physically harming , it hurt more emotionally than it did physically. maybe he yelled at her a lot and said things he didn’t mean , he could do anything. then she gets super upset and runs off to their shared quarters. he ends up finding her crying.

he’s never seen her cry or show weakness before.

you can pick one of the two!! thank you so much again and please , if these topics aren’t interesting , please tell me <3

stargirl

kylo ren x reader

synopsis: in your captivity, all you can think about is him, in love and in hate

a/n: anything in italics is a past memory, and i just combined the two into one, so i hope you like it!!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you had wondered when you’d be interrogated. it was inevitable, you had been through enough war and fighting to know that whenever someone was kidnapped and held captive, they would be interrogated.

you had done it before, multiple times.

you couldn’t say that you hated it. the only dark part of your morality let you love what you’ve done. of course, having the pleased eye of kylo ren staring at you was also the encouragement you needed whenever you felt doubts.

the door had opened unexpectedly, you could hear the woosh, and immediately you closed your eyes in anger, “what is it?” you heard the footsteps of heavy boots, most likely a trooper or a knight.

you turned around and saw the opposing figure of one of the knights of ren. you raised your eyebrow and the knight cleared their throat, “master ren has been acting strange,” again they cleared their throat, anxiety waved off of them, “he’s been..” they trailed off and you inhaled slightly.

the knight exhaled, their shoulders dropping with relief at your reaction. this was nothing new. kylo had his fits of rage or tantrums where he was practically inconsolable.

after working with him so closely and developing more than just a friendship, you were well versed in the game of calming down kylo.

you waved the knight away, “i will be right there.” the knight nodded, gave a respectful bow and walked off.

there was a loud slam against your cell that awoke you. the pathetic excuse for a blanket fell of your shoulders as you sat up, wiping your eyes as you heard the cell door creak open, “let’s go.” a hand came up to your arms and pulled you up onto your feet. you would protest, but you stayed silent, keeping a calm face. but the man’s fingers dug into your arm, making it hard for you not to cry out.

you were hauled out of the cell and practically dragged to another room, nearly as small as the cell, you were pushed inside, made to sit at one of the only two chairs in the room.

you looked around, there was no sign of the rest of the resistance members. perhaps they were hiding their prisoners away from the others, obviously on purpo-

“you can stop trying to figure out where everyone else is.” he was tall, a younger looking man, his face whispered familiarity.

he pulled the chair out opposite of yours and sat down carefully, his eyes grazing over your face. you looked at him, not willing to break eye contact.

he smiled hard, almost menacingly, “isn’t this odd? we’ve met, many times before..i know you, but you don’t know me..” he trailed off, “y/n.”

your name peeked your attention. hardly anyone outside of the order knew your first name. only kylo, a few officers, and the knights knew your true name. but you were always referred to as iza’re, or iza’re ren.

you narrowed your eyes at the man, “get to the point. what do you want from the first order?” you were getting bored, and if this is how it’s going to be, you needed to cut it short.

“you don’t know who i am?” the man looked surprised to see you so nonchalant. as if your true name was supposed to be the key to everything.

you shrugged again, leaning your elbows on the table, you got close to his face, “you say that like i’m supposed to care. i won’t repeat myself again,” you hissed, “what do you want from the first order?”

“get out. all of you!” kylo ren’s anger exhibited itself in his voice, a large hand outstretched itself towards the door, the metal door heaved open with the force and the rest of the troopers filed out, quickly as can be.

fn-2187 stared at kylo ren. even under his mask, he could just imagine his expression. fn-2187 knew that the moment you had walked in, that this wasn’t going to end well.

he followed the rest of the troopers out to the hallway. there was a large window that allowed people to see in, and fn-2187 had walked slow so that he could end up in front of the window.

“you need to calm down.” you had been talking to kylo through the force the entire way here. he was being stubborn, unresponsive to your usual tactics, you realized that maybe this wouldn’t be like other times.

“kylo.” you called his name, his back was turned to you and you were dying in the silence.

“why can’t you ever just stay out of it?” kylo turned around on his heel, the dark fabric of his cape followed him, and he began to stalk towards you, “hmm? why do you always think that you can save the day? you’re pathetic. a pathetic excuse for a force user, a pathetic excuse for a soldier of the first order..” he listed off all your weaknesses in a cruel list, “i cant stand to look at you. you make me fucking sick.” he had stopped you cold against the wall. even just arms length away from you, you could feel the rage, feel the truth to his feelings radiate off of him.

you wanted to cry. right then and there, you wanted to ball yourself up and sob on the floor.

but you scrunched your face slightly, as if not to lose the nerve, “find me when you’re done being an asshole.” you didn’t even look at him as you stalked past him, glancing at the open window towards the troopers, who were all facing away from the window.

except for one.

“what do you mean you ‘think’? we’ve been holding her for days and you’ve been in there for hours, and that’s what you’ve come up with?” poe had been overseeing the interrogation, and it was clear that it was going nowhere.

“threatening to blow up starkiller base would get us somewhere if we actually could.” poe rubbed his face, the feeling of a headache was coming on.

“why can’t we?” finn stared at poe, and poe laughed, realizing that finn was being serious.

“are you sure it’s her? it couldn’t be someone else? another trooper, perhaps?” poe looked at finn, who sighed, “she’s the only one i’ve ever seen that close to ren. it’s gotta be her.”

kylo hadn’t thought to apologize. but you had been ignoring him for days, even going as far as having stormtroopers deliver messages.

he had had enough when he had tried to talk to you through the force, and felt nothing in response.

“are you done?” the sound of the metal door opening had you turning your neck to see kylo ren, helmet off, hair dishelved, stalking in.

he set his helmet down on your dining table and kicked his shoes off, “i asked you something.” he stared down at you, his eyes searching you for something back.

“really?” you come in here after the way you talked to me a few days ago and expect us to be fine?” you looked up from your data log and stood up, “you yelled at me, tore me apart, called me pathetic many times over-“

“i’m sorry.” kylo interrupted you, and his face softened. this was utterly unlike him.

“what?” your own voice sounded distant and you blinked. a hand flew to your chest to feel the beating heart inside, “did you just-“

“yes. i am sorry.” kylo walked over to you, and watched as your face broke, tears spilling as you walked into his arms.

silence and the sounds of your sniffles filled the room. all that you ever wanted from him was an apology, and he had finally done it.

“i swear to you,” kylo broke the silence, the quiet was drowned out by his husky voice, “that i will never do that to you again.”

“and you caught them..?” poe’s eyebrows knitted together with confusion. his pilot uniform jacket hung on the chair beside him, as he paced the room, “let’s rewind,”

finn nodded, and poe sighed, “you were sent down to give her a message,”

“it had something to do with the knights.” finn had tried to remember what exactly the message was about but it had been nearly two years since then.

“and instead kylo ren answered the door?” poe repeated the events and finn nodded. “are you sure it wasn’t his quarters and you’re just an idiot?”

finn’s expression fell and he rolled his eyes, “stormtroopers are supposed to know. it was her quarters, her name was in a blazing plaque outside the door.”

a knock at the door had interrupted you. kylo had stripped off his clothes, leaving only the thick black sweatpants on, but even then, they hung dangerously low on him.

you, on the other hand, barely had anything on.

“fuck.” you cursed, and stuffed whatever shirt you could find off the floor. just by the scent of it, you knew it was kylo’s, but you still shrugged it on. you got off the bed, trying to find some shoes but kylo grabbed your arm, “i’ll get it.”

he was already getting up, and even with your protests, it was too late.

“master ren!” the robotic voice of a trooper met your ears and you cringed. troopers talked, and this was definitely something to talk about. there was an exchange of words between the trooper and kylo, until finally, “you are dismissed, fn-2187.”

“that’s kind of hot, no?” poe had been staring a little too long at the wall, clearly imagining what finn had described.

finn’s face turned into a picture of disgust, “there is something wrong with you.”

“iza’re to starkiller base. iza’re to base, does anyone copy?” you were falling, and fast.

the resistance had been chasing you for almost an hour. you had tried to lose them in some astroid graveyard but they were on your ass, until they shot your ship.

“fuck! someone! iza’re to base!” your hands clutched at the controls as you felt your chest rise and fall with fear.

kylo was right. you should have never gone off alone.

“kylo! im just off the astroid chunks by naboo.” just as you had finished telling your location, the ships power shut off, and you felt yourself blackout as the ship began to fall harder.

kylo had them playback your voice. over and over again.

the fear in your voice had been seared into his mind for days. he had tried to reach you over the force but was met with nothing. the usual thrum of your power would at least let him know you were alive. but he felt sick when he felt nothing.

“and no one heard this until when?” kylo looked around at the table filled with officers and military personnel. they all had this look of stupidity on their faces that made kylo want to knock them all out cold.

“this morning-“ a staff spoke up, “we believe she was taken by the resistance.”

kylo’s hands smashed against the table, “this morning?! find her!” he yelled at the officers. he raised his hands and suddenly they were all clutching at their throats, “find her now or i will murder every single one of you until someone does.”

“she’s loyal.” rey had observed, watching you through the glass, she wondered if you could see them all, gawking at you.

“of course she is. she’s sleeping with the supreme leader of the first order.” poe commented, rolling his eyes slightly, “i say we just lie.”

finn turned towards poe, “didn’t you just say that we shouldn’t lie? you got all mad-“

poe shrugged, “i was a different person then. say that ren is dead, and the first order is ashes-“

“oh like she’ll believe that-“ finn replied sarcastically. he had his hands on his hips and stared at you.

you were looking off into the distance, totally unaware of them on the other side staring at you.

“she’ll know. you said she’s a force user, correct?” rey peered at you and finn nodded, “yes. why?”

“she’ll know we’re lying. she probably also knows that we can see her,” you turned suddenly, meeting their eyes, “-right through this glass..” rey trailed off, and poe whistled lowly.

“wow. this is embarrassing…” poe laughed nervously. finn laughed, patting his friends shoulder as he walked off.

kylo was close. he hadn’t realized until now that it was the distance muffling your power. he could feel you, a quiet thrum in his head, he knew you were close.

“kill anything and everyone. i don’t care- just get her out alive.” his instructions were incredibly clear to the knights and troopers. he wanted you more than he wanted the resistance gone.

“so..” he had been trying to get you to talk for almost thirty minutes now. unlike his friend, this one seemed to be a little dull. “what’s between you and ren?”

you raised your head, and narrowed your gaze, “you mean my superior, the supreme leader kylo ren?” you were so serious that poe had to think about it before nodding weakly.

“nothing. bring me the trooper. fn-2187, is it? at least he knew what kind of questions to ask..” you waved a hand, dismissively towards the man and turned away, hoping he would leave.

“oh my god.” poe let the words escape as he shut the door behind him, “i don’t know what he sees in her-“ he looked at finn, “she’s asking for you. like specifically for you.” he raised his eyebrows at finn, who laughed in shock.

rey looked at the men, “don’t tell me you’re going to go in there.” she held up a hand to finn and he shrugged, “what else should we do?”

rey sighed, “give her up? she’s clearly nobody to ren, maybe finn was wrong.”

kylo ren had blown up half of the resistance base. he had felt nothing as he did so, and nothing more as he stepped off his ship, and hauled ass to wherever the hell you were.

he tried to use his own force powers to try and locate you, cutting down anyone that tried to fight him.

but it was worth nothing. nothing drove kylo ren more than you, and he would find you even if it killed him.

the argument between poe and finn had barely lasted before the emergency alarm had gone off. shouts echoed down the hall and they all began to run.

troopers were all over the place, blasters were shooting at everyone and they knew this was kylo.

“maybe finn was right..” rey looked at the men with a sheepish smile, and finn rolled his eyes, “get down!” he shouted at rey, who just barely ducked the blast that was shot towards her.

“if it’s him then shouldn’t someone go fend him off?” finn stared at poe and rey, as if waiting for one of them to volunteer.

poe shrugged, “i don’t think she’s worth it. barely talked.” finn didn’t even bother arguing when rey began to agree.

you could hear the sounds of a fight through the door. you couldn’t see through the glass window, but you could just imagine it.

the door opened and you half expected to see one of the two guys who had been interrogating you. but instead there he was.

wearing his usual all black, kylo cut down the room and immediately opened his arms, pulling you into them. “y/n..oh y/n.” there was a sigh of relief as you wrapped your arms around him.

you were crying.

this entire time you had forced yourself not to cry, not to show emotion. perhaps you had saved it for this moment. “kylo.” his name rolled off your tongue, “im sorry.”

kylo shook his head, “don’t. it’s all my fault. i should’ve just gone out there with you.” he scolded himself, shaking his head as he thought back to what he could’ve done.

“no. don’t. you always do that, you take responsibility for a decision i made.” you hugged him even tighter, “don’t. okay. just don’t.”

kylo didn’t even protest, he just held you all the more tighter in his arms.

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