#you push him hard enough and he will go off. not like dynamite; that's too sloppy. he goes off like a sniper rifle | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yaimlight · 1 year

Text

A continuation of this.

The next time you meet Dynamite it’s actually planned and somehow that feels a thousand times worse than the random encounters from before.

It’s been a couple of months since the last time you had seen him, your little fluff piece having done well enough that it had landed you with a couple more lighthearted assignments that had been a welcome break from all the serious doom and gloom you tended to get lumbered with. Not that you didn’t like the serious stuff, just, it got a little monotonous when that’s all you ever dealt with.

In the few months since seeing him you had managed to convince yourself that all you felt for the man was a childish crush, the whole mysterious enigma thing he had going on making you fixate on him more than you would any other man who had caught your eye over the years. After all, you were a journalist and unpicking mysteries, and half-truths was one of your favourite things to do and the hero was definitely a mystery but that’s all it was. The thrill of unravelling a new and admittedly handsome mystery. Dynamite was a private person to the extent that no one really knew anything about him outside of his hero work and you were just dying to be the first one to unravel all his secrets. That’s all. Definitely not a full-blown attraction to the man that just got worse the more time you spent with him.

So, you got on with your life, pushing the explosive blonde to the back of your mind as best as you could considering he was all over the news and instead channelled all your attention and effort into your work. For the most part it worked, that was until an assignment landed on your desk that threatened to undo all your hard work.

Dynamite didn’t give interviews. In the years since he had first exploded onto the hero scene, he had given maybe half a dozen interviews and only two of them had been proper sit-down ones, the rest kind of forced on him after an incident that always devolved into the hero yelling and swearing at whatever reporter was stupid enough to get in his way. Not that the sit-down ones went any better. He clearly hadn’t wanted to be there, and his answers had been short and clipped, the blonde visibly trying not to snap or swear. His restraint didn’t last though, the interviewer asking one too many personal questions that he didn’t want to answer and the whole thing would blow up quicker than one of his explosions and just as violently.

So yeah, Dynamite didn’t do interviews and especially not ones that required him to be a bit more open about his personal life so when a request arrived in your inbox from his agencies PR team you felt justified in assuming it was some sort of prank or joke from your friends and had quickly sent it to the bin, completely forgetting about it by mid-morning. That was your first mistake of the day, your second had been assuming that the first mistake wouldn’t come back to bite you in the ass.

It hadn’t been a joke.

According to your rather angry boss the next day Dynamites agency were looking to improve the hero's reputation with an all-access interview that the hero was refusing to have anything to do with unless he got to pick the journalist who would be poking their nose in his business and for some unknown reason the explosive blonde had picked you. That had left you a little stunned, staring at your boss like they had grown a third head, but they just kept barrelling on about how good an opportunity this would be not only for your career but also the magazine and completely ignoring the mini melt down you were currently experiencing.

This couldn’t actually be happening, could it? This had to be some kind of mistake, a joke even. Dynamite didn’t do interviews, the man barely even speaking about his accomplishments let alone what he got up to when he wasn’t in his uniform. You said exactly that to your boss, cutting them off mid rant but you hadn’t been able to wait. All that had gotten you was a laugh, your boss spouting some rubbish about Dynamite finally getting his act together and realising he needs to offer something of himself up to the public to get anywhere with his career. You would have called them out on how untrue that was, the explosive hero never once having cared what people thought of him but before you could get another word out you were being ushered out of your boss's office and informed that you would hear from the agency within the next few days to set things up.

You were left standing in the hallway feeling like you had just stepped out of a fever dream and had no clue what the hell was even going on now. You couldn’t understand why Dynamite was practically forcing this on you. There were a hundred different reporters out there he could have picked. Ones with better reputations who were more popular amongst the masses. You were just an average, run of the mill journalist who worked for a small and barely functioning magazine. Why the hell would he pick you of all people to be saddled with such a monumental task? Answering your own question, you get a flash back to that day at the charity photo shoot and his booming laugh as you told him it didn’t hurt to have a friend in the press.

Was it really that simple? Dynamite picking the only journalist he knew and hoping you would gloss over all his flaws and boost his popularity? The thought stung but if you were being realistic it made sense. He didn’t know you other than some fluff piece reporter who didn’t pay enough attention to their surroundings when walking home in the dead of night. It was a known fact he disliked the press and you were probably just the best of a bad bunch. This was a tactical decision, and you had no reason to feel anything but gratitude and excitement for the opportunity this would present you and it really was an opportunity, the best one you had had since the first time you got to interview Hawks. If you could pull this off without it resulting in an argument, property damage or the number four hero storming out it would open up a lot of doors for you considering you would be the first journalist to make it through an interview unscathed.

It only took a week from them to get everything arranged, Dynamite’s agency sending over a list of banned questions along with an outline of what they wanted from you. It wasn’t anything new, you had done these kinds of interviews before and there was always the same sort of things that heroes don't want to discuss. Most common were their relationships and families, along with any political based questions and the odd one about any scandals they might have been involved in recently.

Dynamites was lacking a few things though, most notably the questions about his relationship status and that just left you more confused than ever considering his refusal to talk about those kinds of things in the past. Your boss had been over the moon though, giving you their own list of questions that you had every intention of ignoring. You were sure it was an oversight and you would not risk the blonde’s anger just to state some idle gossips curiosity. If anyone asked why you hadn’t taken the opportunity you would just tell them he had refused to answer, it’s not like it wasn’t a believable lie.

When the day of the interview rolled around you had been nervous, unwilling to admit that it was because you were about to see Dynamite again and not because of how much pressure you were under to make sure this went well. You had barely been able to stomach a lite breakfast and you had been so distracted that you were sure you had washed your hair twice. You ended up having to give yourself a stern talking to, glaring at your half-dressed reflection as you reminded yourself yet again that this was a job, you were being paid and a certain level of professionalism was expected of you and you had no intention of screwing up your reputation that you had worked hard for just because you had a celebrity crush on the hero. It had surprisingly worked and you had managed to get through the rest of your morning routine without another bout of teenage stupidity.

Getting to your agreed upon venue was a different story.

You shouldn’t have been surprised as you had been when you had been given the address, knowing that Dynamite liked his privacy. A lot of heroes did and you often did your one on one interviews in secluded back rooms of trusted establishments that allowed them to relax without the pressure of the public's eyes on them but never once had they asked you to their homes and you were pretty sure that was where you were heading, to Dynamites home.

You had looked the place up as soon as you had gotten the address just like you always had but instead of a bar, restaurant or cafe like it normally was you had found yourself looking at a photo of a residential high rise in one of the wealthiest parts of the city. You had double checked with the agency that you had been given the right address and when they had confirmed that you had you had spent a considerable amount of time trying to find out why on earth they were sending you there of all places. The only logical conclusion you had been able to come to was that it was the heroes home address and that had sent you into a blind panic that had resulted in you getting drunk like the responsible adult you were and half convincing yourself that this was all some sort of elaborate joke your friends were playing on you in an attempt to make fun of your obvious and childish crush on the hero.

Even standing in front of the apartment door, your hand hovering above the sleek black wood, you weren’t one hundred percent convinced that one of your friends weren’t lurking, waiting to see your reaction when you distributed some poor persons Sunday morning. There was only one way to find out though and after taking a deep breath to try and gain some sort of composure you had knocked three times, loud and clear and way more confident than you had felt. You held your breath, the sound of movement coming from within the apartment before the door was being yanked open and your breath came whooshing back out in one go. It really hadn’t been a joke.

Dynamite looks different out of his uniform, standing before you in black sweatpants, a black tank top and house slippers. His eyes are still just as fierce but there’s something almost soft about him and you can’t help but feel like you're intruding on something you were never meant to see. He doesn’t give you a chance to process what you’re seeing before he’s stepping out the way and demanding you get in. Obviously, you do as he said, quickly scurrying in and clutching at the strap of your bag like it’s a lifeline. He shuts the door behind you with a definitive click and it’s only then that it really hits you where you are and with who. Somehow knowing you were going to end up here didn’t really help with the reality of the situation.

Everything’s a little awkward, the two of you standing in the genkan and neither of you breaking the heavy silence that’s fallen over you. You can feel his eyes on you, your skin tingling as you fidget with the strap of your bag and yet you can’t bring yourself to look up from where you’re staring at his slipper covered feet, worried that if you do he will be able to see how badly his cosy home look was affecting you. It was one thing to see him in his hero costume, all hard muscles and power as he put his life on the line time and time again, but this was something else entirely and you were pretty sure you were going to remember him like this for years to come.

Surprisingly Dynamite is the one to break the silence, telling you where you can put your shoes and directing your attention to a waiting pair of slips that matched his own. He’s walking off down the hallway before you can even think about pulling your boots off, calling over his broad shoulder for you to make yourself comfortable before disappearing around the corner. You stand there like a brain-dead idiot for a long couple of minutes, just staring down the corridor and giving your brain a chance to catch up with what was going on. It’s all a little surreal, more like a dream than reality and before you do what he said you make sure to pinch yourself, just to make sure. The sharp stinging pain that shoots down your arm is enough to get you moving, tucking your boots into the stand before slipping your feet into the slippers and following after the hero.

You’re not sure what you had been expecting when you stepped out into the main living area, but the modern minimalist decor doesn’t really surprise you all that much. The walls are white, the furniture different shades of black and grey that stand out from the walls but blend well together. Everything is immaculate, not a single bit of clutter to be seen and you would bet money on the fact that you wouldn’t find a single speck of dust anywhere. The apartment itself is a decent enough size, open and light with large windows that overlook the city. What you assume is the bedroom and facilities are off to the right, hidden away behind black wooden doors that match the one you had just come through. To your left is the open plan kitchen, everything as modern and sparkling clean as the rest of the apartment.

That’s where Dynamite is, effortlessly moving around the space as he pulls cups from the cupboard and sets about making what looks like a fresh pot of coffee. You can’t help but watch him as you make your way over to the sofa, placing your bag down on the coffee table as you go. He’s stopped moving, back turned towards you as he watches the coffee slowly fill the pot. There’s a tension in his shoulders, his hands braced against the counter and causing the muscles in his back to bunch up. You should be ashamed of the fact that you're checking the man out and some part of you is but you were also only human and the man had some quite frankly amazing shoulders and you dared anyone not to take a peak when they were right there, on display for all to see.

Something clicks, Dynamite shifting as he does something with the pot. The movement snaps you out of your daze and feeling embarrassed about your actions you quickly turn your back on the man, desperate to distract yourself from the temptation he presents and once again having to remind yourself that you were supposed to be working. In an attempt to get back on track you unpack your bag, placing your notebook and pencil onto the coffee table followed by your tape recorder and spare tape. You always made notes with this kind of thing but you liked to have a recording to refer back to when it came time to actually write the article, otherwise you ran the risk of misquoting and you refused to be one of those journalists that were always having to apologise for mistakes in their work.

Your jacket comes off next, lead over the back of the armchair you were claiming as your own for the couple of hours you would be here. The chair faced out, giving you an almost complete view of the room whilst also putting you close enough to the door just in case everything went wrong and you had to make a quick getaway. Not that that was going to happen. Hopefully.

Feeling a little bit like a loose end whilst you waited for the hero to come back you decided to have a look around, taking Dynamite’s offer to relax to heart and heading straight to his bookcase. It’s not just books waiting for you on the shelves, a couple of framed photos of the hero with his friends and what you think are his parents dotted around amongst the books on hero theory, engineering, and cooking. There’s an award he had gotten a couple of years ago for saving a school bus full of kids and what looks like a limited edition All Might statue still safely tucked away in its packaging and away from direct sunlight. It’s not a lot but it’s enough to get you interested, questions already forming in your mind that could help you and the public to get to know the hero a little better.

It’s just as you're about to pick up his graduation photo that Dynamite comes back, tray in hand that looks like it was full to bursting. You quickly put the photo back trying to help the man but he out right refused, demanding you sit down and get out of his way before you knock something over. You huff and roll your eyes at that but you do take your seat in the previously claimed armchair, watching the blonde as he unloads a pot of coffee, as well as a milk jug and sugar bowl onto the table along with two cups and a plate of what look like cookies. It’s a lot more than you thought you would get and the next few moments are taken up with the blonde serving you as you talk him through how you take your coffee and sounding just as confused as you felt. You thanked him when he handed you cup over, the hero’s cheeks dusted a light pink as he refused to make eye contact with you. You had used his hero name to address him, the same as you always did with the heroes that you interviewed but apparently that had been the wrong thing to do in this case.

He had pulled a face at you, his nose scrunching up and lip curling to slightly show off his perfect teeth. If you hadn’t been so taken back by the action you probably would have thought it was weirdly adorable but as it was you were too focused on what the man was saying to pay attention to anything else. He didn’t want to be called by his hero name. Said he wasn’t at work so to call him Katsuki or Kats or at the very least Bakugou. Anything but his hero name. It was a weird request from the notoriously private man but everything about this interview was weird and it left you feeling like you were missing something. A feeling you didn’t like.

You nodded, indicating your understanding and after a few second hesitation you had settled on addressing him as Bakugou, not feeling comfortable enough to call him by his first name despite how much you wanted to. He huffs slightly at that, seemingly annoyed by your decision but before you can ask if there’s a problem he’s talking again, demanding you get started before he changes his mind. Not wanting to annoy your boss or his, you decide to let it go for now. The tape recorder gets turned on and you push it further towards the middle of the table so it would pick up the both of you. Once that’s in place you take up your notebook and pen, sinking back into the surprisingly comfortable chair and readying yourself for what’s to come.

The first few questions are a little stiff, Bakugou’s answers short and to the point and not really opening up the conversation. That’s not too much of a problem, the questions are only supposed to be icebreakers and get the man to relax a little. Just simple things about his current rank and his aspirations but they don’t seem to be working, the hero either purposely being difficult or so used to crappy journalists that he didn’t even realise he was doing it. You didn’t know which one was worse.

Frustrated and missing the easy back and forth you had had before at the charity event you try to rack your brain for something that will help him relax a little better than your standard go to questions. Your roaming eyes land back on the photo of Bakugou and friends at graduation. He looks happy, a rare smile on his younger self’s face. Red Riot has his arm slung over the blonde’s shoulder, his smile just as bright as always with Pinky on his other side and clinging to the redhead as she jumps up. On Bakugou’s other side is Chargebolt and Cellophane, the duo with their arms slung around one another and leaning into the blonde. They are all dressed in the U.A ceremony robes, holding on tightly to the pointless bits of paper that say they had successfully graduated, all of them looking like it’s the happiest day of their lives.

You say as much, nodding towards the photo when the blonde gives you a confused look. He stares at it for a moment, the crease between his furrowed brows smoothing out slightly as he smiles softly at what must be a fond memory. It’s easier from there Bakugou finding it easier to talk about his friends then himself but you can work with that. One story leads to another and soon enough your sides hurt from laughing and cheeks ache from how much you have been smiling.

You learn a lot about Bakugou from the things he tells you about his friends, things that he probably doesn’t even realise. Like how much he actually cares for them even though he complains about how much they annoy him and that he’s fiercely loyal and protective of those he lets in. You find out that he hadn’t gotten his provisional licence the first time round thanks to a brief comment about how Chargebolt had teased him about it and gotten an explosive palm to the face for his efforts. Thanks to a story about his graduation party you find out that he doesn’t have that high of an alcohol tolerance, that he’s an excellent just dance player and that his first kiss had been with Froppy during a drunken game of spin the bottle.

The two of you talk for ages and you even offer up your own stories about your time at college and university as well as a few tamer incidents from the work Christmas parties over the years. You don’t mind offering up bits of yourself, the supposed interview seeming more like a conversation between friends than actual work. You had abandoned your notebook a while ago, relying solely on your tape recorder to capture everything you would need. Not that you would use much of this in the interview. It was private, personal and even though the point of this interview was to show people the human side to the loud and somewhat rude hero you didn’t want to taint those significant memories by inviting everyone else into them.

You had been there for a good few hours, the coffee long gone and the conversation a lot more relaxed than it had been. Bakugou was clearly showing off, ginning like a mad man and gesturing with his hands as he tells you about how he had saved a train full of people from a villain with a tentacle quirk. You had seen it on the news but it was still interesting hearing it from his point of view and you were enjoying how animated he was being. So of course, that was when your stomach rumbled loudly and reminded you that your breakfast had barely been able to be called that.

The silence was instantaneous.

You had never been so embarrassed, your face heating up as you stuttered out an apology and some form of explanation that didn’t make you sound like a complete idiot. You didn’t think you were doing that good a job and the way Bakugou was glaring at you had you feeling like you had completely ruined your chance and were about to be told to get out. You're already trying to come up with an acceptable excuse for your boss when Bakugou gets up, calling you an idiot and demanding you follow him into the kitchen. Obviously, you follow him, quickly scrambling up from your seat and only just remembering to grab the tape recorder as you rush past.

You are only a couple of seconds behind him, maybe a minute tops but by the time you’ve made it into the kitchen Bakugou’s already pulling things out of his fridge, mumbling to himself about what he can make with what he’s got. All you can do is stand there and stare at him in shocked silence. It takes him slamming the fridge door to knock you out of your stupor, jumping at the sudden sound like a skittish animal. Your eyes dart between his serious scowl and the way he effortlessly moves around the kitchen, your confused brain too slow to work out exactly what was happening. It’s a surprise you even manage to get words out, let alone form a whole sentence though he doesn’t take too kindly to you asking what he’s doing.

He yells at you again, snapping his head round to glare at you as he calls you an idiot and points out the obvious. Of course, he’s making you lunch. How stupid of you not to realise that was what was happening. You didn’t even know he could cook, most pro-heroes you had interviewed being so busy they stuck to take out or simple ready meals that didn’t take too long to prepare. Bakugou was very much not like the other pros you had interviewed in the past though. The man was an enigma, and this was just one more layer to peel back and explore.

Once the initial shock of having the number four pro-hero cook for you had worn off you had quickly made your way into his kitchen, setting the still recording Dictaphone down and offering to help. You had honestly expected him to kick you out, if not his apartment, then at least the kitchen, the hero notorious for being a bit of a big-headed control freak but to your surprise he had given you a knife and a whole heap of vegetables to clean and cut up. You got to it straight away, following his direction on how he wanted everything, diced, cubed or julienned.

It was surprisingly nice, once he had stopped yelling and bossing you around that is.

It only took a few moments of a slightly awkward silence before you managed to remember why you were there and managed to get back to the interview you were supposed to be conducting. You took the opportunity to talk to him about his love for cooking, learning quickly that Bakugou had a love for all things spicy and a dislike for sweets. You spoke about his favourite dishes to cook, meals that stood out in his memories and why it was so important to him to eat fresh homemade food instead of junk from the grocery store. From there you had gotten into his workout routine and what specific things he had to do so his body could handle his quirk. He didn’t miss the opportunity to scold you for your own poor eating habits or to poke fun at your lack of a workout routine. That had you huffing in annoyance and mumbling under your breath whilst he laughed at you poorly hidden pout.

One moment bleeds into the next and before you know it you are sitting at his dining table with a steaming bowl of ramen in front of you. The food’s incredible, surprisingly so and you can’t help but moan at the first mouthful, mumbling about how good it is even as you shovel in another mouthful. By the time you manage to shut up and notice the awkward silence Bakugou is looking down at his own bowl with furrowed brows and a slight flush on his cheeks. Once again, your back to feeling like a complete idiot, mumbling out an apology and looking anywhere but at the blonde, even when he tells you it’s fine.

It’s back to feeling awkward again and you spend a long couple of minutes eating in silence as you try to work out what the hell you’re supposed to talk about now. Your Dictaphone sat between you again, the tape wiring gently as it ticks over, picking up the silence. You know you have a whole host of questions in your notebook, but you don't want to be rude and leave the table, especially not if the hero is going to start yelling at you. Plus, you don’t want to ask all those invasive questions your boss had been pushing you to and going to get your notes would just remind you of all those invasive and cringey things that apparently everyone wanted to know.

Your eyes dart around the room as you eat, trying to find something to spark a bit of interest and end the weird stalemate you had found yourself in. You’ve already talked about his friends though, as well as some of the things they had gotten up to at school and you don’t want to go back to that topic, feeling like you had gotten enough out of it and not wanting Bakugou to think you're not that interested in him when the opposite was true. You could listen to the other man talk for hours, soaking up every little bit of information you could get like obsessive fan girl you were.

Sighing you sweep you gaze across the top shelf, noting book titles and random little trinkets that could possibly be of use to you. You’re just about ready to sink as low as asking about his reading habits when your eyes land on the All Might figurine again and you smile slightly, knowing what it is you want to ask him next.

Bakugou is a little defensive when you ask him if he’s an All Might fan, his eyes narrowing at you like you're about to start disrespecting one of the greatest heroes of all time. It doesn't take that much effort to ease the blonde's suspicions though and before long the two of you are deep into a debate about the larger-than-life hero’s legacy and the impact that had on the generations of heroes that came after, including Dynamite himself. From there it's easy to move on to how heroes have shaped society and the effects that quirks have had on the development of mankind. It surprises you when Dynamite quotes your own article back at you, the thing having been published a few years prior when you hadn’t been that well of an established journalist. The surprise doesn't last long though as he gets side-tracked ranting about how people were idiots to think that quirk and technological advancements couldn’t happen at the same time, even going as far as to show you a few articles on his phone of research and development programs focused on continuing man’s advances from before quirks had been such a common aspect of life.

It's easy to get lost in conversation, you following behind him as he clears away your empty bowls and still debating quirk regulations and if the rate quirks were evolving was sustainable. When everything’s cleared away the two of you head back to his seating area but this time you ignore the armchair you had previously called dibs on, instead sitting at one end of the sofa whilst Bakugou takes the other end. It’s easy again, talking to the pro-hero and even though you're not keeping to your normal structure when conducting an interview your still making progress. You manage to get answers to about 95% of the questions in your notebook, the other 5% mostly being the ones from your boss about his personal life and relationships. You do almost go there, especially when he mentions one of the other heroes he had been named as dating a while back but it's only a passing comment and you don’t want to sour the mood. So, you let it go, instead letting the conversation head towards his opinions on cross agency cooperation and team ups.

Everything’s going fine until your Dictaphone makes a weird clicking sound followed by a loud beep, the light of front flashing red and signalling your tape is full. It brings the conversation to a sudden halt, the two of you looking down at the small device like it's a bomb about to go off. You had completely forgotten about the recording, so lost in just talking to the normally reserved hero that the actual reason you were here had completely slipped your mind.

Laughing lightly and trying to make a joke about it you go to turn the thing off and replace the tape. It’s only when you look up from your bag, new tape in hand that you notice the setting sun and you realise exactly how long you had been in the hero's home. Horrified that you had taken up so much of the man’s time you try and wrap things up, insisting that you had enough information whilst simultaneously thanking him for his time and apologising for taking up so much of it.

Your halfway to the door, shoving everything back in your bag whilst trying to pull your jacket back on and still rambling about when the interview would be published and thanking him for his time when Bakugou says something that has you almost dropping all your stuff, having to frantically try and save it all from scattering across the floor. You don’t quite manage to keep hold of your notebook and it goes sliding across the wooden floor only to hit the heroes slippered feet and come to a stop between them.

Dinner. Bakugou wants to have dinner. With you.

You've hit your head or were involved in some sort of accident on your way over and this whole day had been your weird fever dream. It was the only explanation to the absolute madness that had been going on. That or this was actually happening and that didn’t seem like the likely option. Things like this did apparently happen though because not five minutes later you're out the door, following behind the hero as he leads you from his apartment complex and down the street.

You end up at a little hole in the wall place not that far from the hero's home, tucked away in the corner and mostly hidden from the rest of the patrons. It’s cosy, intimate but Bakugou doesn’t seem to care, leaning across the table so you can hear him talking over the noise of the busy restaurant around you. Your notebook is on the side of the table, you having had every intention of attempting to keep this work related but it remained unopened, forgotten in favour of spending time with your long-term crush and getting lost in his presence.

Bakugou continues to surprise you, leading the conversation and asking you about your previous work. It turns out it’s not just the one article of yours that he had read, the hero having several questions about previous topics and even taking the time to ask why you had gone into journalism, let alone a hero focused one. It’s nice. You haven't had anyone show such interest in you and your work for some time and you can't help but beam under the hero's attention, enjoying finally getting a chance to ramble about your ideas and theories without feeling like you’re boring them too much. Bakugou for his part seems genuinely interested, listening to what you are saying and having his own points and theories that he’s willing to discuss.

Eventually though it had to end and a couple of hours later the two of you were being ushered out, back onto the street. You’re all smiles, still laughing at something Bakugou had said as you move further down the street. Without any conscious decision the two of you start heading towards the station, walking side by side and talking about some of the people who had previously attempted to interview the blonde and how badly those had gone. It leads to you asking the one question you had been dying to know since the request had come through. Why you? Of all the people that he could have chosen from, what was it that made you the desired choice?

Turns out it is as simple as you had thought, Bakugou reciting your own words back at you about having a friend in your line of work. His boss was going to force this interview on him regardless of his opinions so why not have someone do it that wouldn’t be an asshole about it. You don’t really know what to say to that, laughing awkwardly and mumbling some rubbish about hoping it was an asshole free experience. That has you blushing, groaning at your idiotic words and trying to hide your embarrassment behind your hands. Of course, that was why he had picked you; you had practically told him you would do things his way if he ever needed to give an interview but didn’t want someone taking liberties. You really were stupid to ever think it could have been something else then you just being the easy option.

Things are weird after that. You're a lot quieter than you had been, too busy berating yourself to really hold much of a conversation. Bakugou doesn't say anything either, but you can feel his eyes on you, and you can’t help but feel like he’s judging you, probably thinking that you're a dumb idiot and desperately wishing this was over and done with already. You can’t really blame him; you had taken up most of his day for something that should have only taken a couple of hours. He was only being nice so he could at least keep you on his side when he needed stuff like this doing again in the future.

It’s disappointing but at the end of the day it’s your job and the recognition this one article is going to get you will probably be enough to mean you would never need to do it again. After this you would be able to pick and choose what you wrote about, finally getting to work on subjects you wanted to instead of what your boss left on your desk. Hell, you might even finally be able to go international and wouldn’t that be something. The possibilities would be endless as long as you took the opportunities and now you had successfully managed to interview the most notoriously difficult hero in all of Japan, you would be known as one of the most capable journalists in Japan, managing to accomplish something your most celebrated colleagues hadn’t. So what if it was just because Bakugou had decided to tolerate you enough to make his life easier in the future, you had still made it through the whole thing without being chased off like the rest of them and that really was something to be proud of.

By the time you had made it to the station you had managed to gain back most of your composure, determined to end this as professionally as you should have handled the whole thing. You thank him for his time again, bowing deeply and promising that your article would be good enough to boost his popularity. He’s giving you a weird look when you straighten back up, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and awkwardly holding out your notebook towards you. Eyes wide and panicked you snatch the thing off him, hugging it close to your chest and hoping to every god you know the name of that he hadn’t opened it and seen all those stupid questions your boss had wanted you to ask. You hadn’t even noticed you didn’t have it, only realising you hadn’t picked it up in the restaurant when you tried to work out when the hero would have gotten his hands on it.

He doesn't look at you when you thank him for picking it up, looking off to the side with his hands shoved in his pockets and shoulders hunched. You would have sworn he was blushing as he mumbles something about calling him if you have any more questions but you quickly wright that off as your own stupid mind playing tricks on you. Bakugou leaves quickly after that, grunting out an indifferent latter dumbass and disappearing off down the street before you can even think about uttering your own goodbye. You stand there dumbly for a few long minutes, watching the man’s retreating form until you could no longer see him and trying to understand what bizarre parallel universe you had found yourself in.

Deciding that whatever had been going on today was a problem for tomorrow you made your way down onto the station, only just managing not to miss the train before it sped off again. You slumped down into the seat with a groan, eyes closing and your head tipping back to rest against the glass with a dull thud. You try not to think about it but how could you not? Today had been nothing like you had expected and it had left you tired and feeling like you had whiplash. You were angry at yourself, letting your emotions get in the way of work and probably having made a complete idiot out of yourself yet again in front of the one man you wanted to try and appear like a functioning person to.

Despite the anger though your still stupidly happy and a little in awe because that had happened right? You had actually spent almost the whole day with the Dynamite, actually getting to talk to him instead of having him yelling at you like he did most people. You probably knew more about the man then some of his friends did and wasn’t that a scary thought, knowing so much about a person who, really you had no sort of connection with that would warrant that kind of information being shared with you. You would have to be extremely careful about what information you included in the article, making sure you gave the public just an impression of the man he was behind the angry yelling and large explosions without giving too much personal stuff away.

Sighing you leant forward, pulling out a pen and flipping open your notebook in an attempt to start outlining the things you wanted to include and things you were planning to take to your grave. It’s as you're flicking through the pages, quietly mumbling to yourself about structure and flow that something catches your eye and you feel your heart skip a beat before slamming away painfully at breakneck speed. It’s the pages you have the question on that your boss had wanted you to ask, each one with just one empty line between because you had known that Bakugou wouldn’t answered them except, well, someone had. Underneath each question is a simple answer in a neat but hurried scrawl that most definitely wasn’t yours.

There stupid questions, prying into the man’s past relationships, sexual habits and what he likes in a partner. There are even questions about the kind of underwear he wears and even if he’s currently seeing anyone. You would never have asked them in a million years, wouldn’t even have asked someone like Hawks who was way to free with that kind of information and yet now you knew that Bakugou liked people that interested him, wore black Calvin Klein boxers and was currently single. That's not what has your mouth hanging open like a fish though, eyes so wide that you feared they would pop out of your head. No, what had your attention was Bakugou’s full name across the bottom of the page and a series of numbers that could only be his phone number.

Your brain can’t process it, staring at it like it's a bloody unicorn or something because why would the number four hero write what you are assuming is his personal contact number in your notebook under a bunch of way too personal questions that were mostly about his sex life and relationships. Your hands are shaking, nails digging into the soft leather of the cover. Everything’s silent, your head full of static so thick you feel almost like you're hallucinating. Maybe you were because there was no way this was what you thought it was. It couldn’t be. Right?

The train stops, the person two seats down from you getting up to get off. The sudden movement has you jerking back to reality like you had just been slapped, slamming the book shut and quickly shoving it into your bag in case someone was to see it. You pull your bag onto your lap, wrapping your arms around it as the next lot of commuters get on the train. You're well aware of what you must look like, head down and clutching your bag like you're afraid someone’s going to steal it or worse, see what you have hiding in it. The notebook feels like it’s made of lead, heavy and undeniably there, just like the ball of dread that was growing in your stomach with every passing second.

This can’t be real. He couldn't actually have given you his number but it’s there, in big bold writing that can’t be ignored. You don’t know what to do with it, what to make of it’s sudden appearance not only in the book but in your life. Why would he give this to you? You hadn’t asked for it, hadn’t said anything that would have given him the idea to do this and yet here you were, now the confused and slightly panicked owner of a bit of information you would never have thought you would get.

What the hell were you supposed to do now?

@paranoid-borderline-insane @stablecreator93 @theycallme-becky @antiwhores @chicarandom11 @screamingpoetsworld @phrogfungi @ghostkat23 @lovra974 @fresa-luna @stxrrielle @fixed211 @trash-heichou-kacchan

A/N: I do believe that is everyone but if I have missed someone out do let me know. Sorry it’s taken so long I’m a dirty rotten procrastinator and got distracted along the way.

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allzelemonz · 1 year

Text

Gunslinger, Cowboy, Simp II: Micah Bell X Male Reader

Pronouns: None Mentioned, reader referred to as ‘boy’ and ‘sir’ Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Violence, Sex Warnings: Micah Bell is his own warning, Micah is a sucker for a good gunslinger, crime, death, clothed sex, grinding, kissing, wall sex, running from the law Summary: After a bad train job, things escalate between you and Micah. Part 1, Part 2

It’s been weeks since something’s gone wrong. Months since you’ve been on the job that actually turns. But this train must be the most well guarded thing in the world. The entire gang is pinned down, separated between the engine, passenger, and cargo cars. Bullets have been flying for a while now, but no one can get a good enough position to make a difference.

“We ain’t gonna last like this.” Lenny mutters, hugging his rifle to his chest as bullets zip above his head.

Arthur sighs, looking through his bag. “I’ll give ‘em somethin’ ta look at.”

From his bag he pulls a few sticks of dynamite. Lenny’s eyes go wide when Arthur nods towards the passenger cars.

“Ya can’t be serious, Arthur!” Lenny says.

“Nearest car’s empty.” You tell him. “Bill and I cleared it earlier.”

“Stay here.” Arthur says, carefully stepping past you to the door.

You and Lenny draw the law’s attention so Arthur can sneak to the other car. There is no telling how the rest of the gang is doing, but there are other shots hitting men off of their horses. At least you know they’re alive. The explosion catches you off guard, Lenny too. You both scramble back before gathering your senses and running out of the train. The rest of the gang seems to have gotten the hint, running into the trees while the law is preoccupied with ‘saving’ people from the explosion. They had no way of knowing the car was empty.

As you wind through the trees you find Charles who looks back at the train, watching closely for pursuers. He waves you and Lenny on, so you run deeper into the trees until you hear a voice. You hold an arm out to stop Lenny as you catch sight of a single law man holding out his gun. In front of him are Micah and Sadie, hands raised. This situation should be nothing to them, but then you see Micah’s guns on the ground. The quickdraw doesn’t have his weapons. Sadie’s shirt is stained red on the side. The ruffian is injured.

Very carefully, as quietly as you can, you raise your gun and shoot the lawman dead. He drops to the ground as you step out from the trees. Sadie lets herself fall to her knees as Lenny runs over to her. She clutches her side in pain, groaning as Lenny tries to help her apply pressure. Micah stares at you for a moment, his eyes moving from the gun in your hand to your face as he registers your action. For a moment you recall an image of him from months ago that you have to push out of your mind for your own sake. The way he ended it made it seem like a one time thing, it’s not gonna happen again.

Micah retrieves his guns from the ground as you help Lenny get Sadie on her feet. You get through the trees together, Micah keeping his guns up and watching for the group until you reach the horses and the rest of the gang. Arthur takes Sadie from you and Lenny, he and John getting some fabric to tie around her wound.

“Javier?” Dutch asks. “The take?”

Javier fishes the money from the bags around his shoulder, taking the stacks from Bill and Sean as well before handing it all to Dutch.

“This…” Dutch grins. “Is very good, boys.”

“We should get back now, Dutch.” Arthur says, nodding to Sadie.

“Of course. Mount up, boys. Let’s get Miss Adler home safe.”

The gang rides hard, splitting into groups to ensure the law doesn’t follow. Arthur, John, and Charles take the straight route back for Sadie’s sake while the rest of you take winding trails. Sean talks most of the way, Bill yells at him to shut up on occasion but he never does. Micah is quiet the whole way, giving you the occasional glance.

“Hold on, boys.” Bill says quietly. “Up there on the hill.”

You look up to the left to see lights moving in the slight dark of the evening.

“Tha’ don’t look good.” Sean mutters.

Micah is the first to steer off the road, leading Baylock into the trees. The rest of you follow, all eyes still on the lights. When you’re concealed you stop and watch as the lights stop at a crossroad, several lawmen taking up posts. At least twenty, too many to shoot with the ammo you have left and the exhaustion from the shootout.

“We’re gonna have to hold up somewhere.” You look back at the boys. “Unless any of you have a full round left in your gun.”

Bill shakes his head.

“We can take ‘em!” Sean whispers.

“If ya wanna get yerself killed, kid, go on ahead.” Micah sighs, clearing his throat. “Saw a cabin a little while back.”

You nod. “Any objections?”

“Fine.” Sean mutters.

Micah leads you all back through the trees. Lawmen cover the roads now, so you stay deep in the woods until the cabin comes into view. There’s one horse hitched outside, no sign of any law.

“Sean should go first.” You say, hopping off your horse to meet the others at the tree line. “He can talk, catch them off guard.”

“Damn right I can.” Sean grins.

“And if they just decide ta shoot ‘em?” Bill asks.

“He’s not that intimidating.” You nudge Sean. “Go.”

“Not tha’ intimidatin’! I’ll have ya-”

“Go!” You shove him.

Sean stumbles out, giving you a sour look before he walks to the cabin. The door opens and a man steps out, not much bigger than Sean. They talk for a moment as Sean learns if the man has anyone inside in between meaningless conversation. As dumb as he is, Sean knows how to get people’s guard down. When he has the opportunity, Sean slits the man’s throat and guides his body to the ground. The rest of you come out of the trees and make your way to the cabin. Bill carries the man over to an enclosure of pigs behind the cabin and drops him. No evidence.

The cabin has two bedrooms aside from the kitchen and living area. One of them looks like a shrine dedicated to a child, untouched and perfectly spotless compared to the messy state of everything else. Bill doesn’t seem to notice or care as he collapses on the bed. Sean rummages through the cabinets until he finds a bottle of whiskey. You all settle in.

Sean eventually finds his way to the bed in the other room while you fall asleep on the couch. Micah being Micah, he doesn’t sleep. Instead he watches your chest rise and fall with each breath as he tries to contemplate things. You saved his life a few hours ago and it didn’t seem like you hesitated at all. The last time he was impressed with you he sank to his knees and he very much wants to do that now but things keep interrupting. He doesn’t know how else to express how impressed he gets with you, how grateful he is that you’re the one that’s usually by his side.

A knock at the door wakes you up. It’s the dead of night and someone is at the door. You look over at Micah and an unspoken plan passes between you. He closes the doors to the bedrooms while you shed the most outlaw parts of your attire and hide them under a table. Micah draws a gun and takes a spot behind the door while you open it. Standing in their own lantern light is a group of lawmen.

“Sorry to bother you so late, sir.” The one in the front says. “We’re scouting the area for some train robbers.”

You put a concerned look on your face. “Train robbers?”

“Yes, sir. Have you seen anyone around?”

You shake your head and glance back at the doors. “I got my kids here, mister.”

He nods. “Just stay inside and everything will be fine.”

“Was it the tracks over there?” You point. “T-That’s awfully close.”

“Everything will be fine, sir.” The lawman says. “Lock your doors and windows and have a nice night.”

He tips his hat to you and he turns to leave. You close the door quickly, locking it like a scared civilian before you peer out of the window to watch them leave. Before they’re even past the trees you’re shoved against the wall as Micah presses his lips to yours. His hands pin your waist as he presses against you. You press back, wanting to feel the hard pressure against your leg. Micah ruts against you and you bend your leg for him. He breaks the kiss to bury his head into your shoulder as he pants from the friction. His hands grip tightly at your waist, holding you still as he fucks against your leg. You watch him intently, getting that same rush in your heartbeat as you watch how desperate he becomes. And when he unravels you have to hold him up because he almost collapses against your knee. Your hands clutch his sides to help him stand and he leans into you.

“Shit…” He breathes as his hand finds a place on the wall to steady himself.

His eyes meet yours before his face turns red and he looks away. You know he must be embarrassed. Sucking you off is one thing, but rutting against your leg with the desperation he had is something he probably didn’t plan to do. You enjoyed it nonetheless. You quickly put a hand to his cheek and press your lips together again. Micah presses into it and starts acting more like the man you know as his hand roughly grips you through your pants. He rubs at you intensely and you buck into his hand, both wanting to show him that he’s not crazy and because his hand feels almost as good as his mouth. You spill a lot faster than he did, your mouth falling open in a noiseless gasp and he kneads you through it.

“Fuck, Micah.” You groan as he takes his hand away.

“Ain’t nobody-”

“I know, I know.” You mutter. “No one, I promise. Just-Just please do that more often.”

You lean your head back against the wall, trying to catch your breath. Micah presses his lips to your neck, sucking a mark into it before he rests his head against your shoulder.

“Sure thing, cowboy.” He mumbles.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #micah bell #red dead redemption x reader #red dead redemption x male reader #micah bell x reader #micah bell x male reader #x reader #x male reader

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banannabethchase · 2 months

Note

thoughts on eddie/nick as a ship pairing? bc i think they’d work so well together just based on eddie’s reaction to seeing them come back on all access

Nothing Suits Me Like a Suit (Except for You) - also on AO3

Eddie wakes up to see Nick come into their hotel room after Dynamite on April 24th.

Title from Nothing Suits Me Like a Suit from How I Met Your Mother. It's pretty much always stuck in my head, and now it has proven useful!

Eddie yawns and wakes up to feel eyes on him. He hadn’t meant to nap, but all the bullshit that had gone down with the show must have knocked him out. He blinks awake. All he needs to see is the edges of purple in the corner of his vision to make the connection.

“Peacock, what do you want from me?” he mumbles pushing himself to sitting. “That suit’s fuckin’ stupid, by the way.”

“Nice to see you, too,” Nick says, and he makes himself comfortable on Eddie’s lap, like he’s supposed to be there.

He is, of course. But Eddie sort of hates that he is. “Get the fuck out,” Eddie says, shifting his hips to try and throw Nick off. But Nick just grins and grinds down, like it’s on purpose, like he’s loving it. “After that shit you pulled with Tony, I don’t want nothin’ to do with you.”

Nick sighs. Somehow even the facial hair, hideous as it is, looks good on him. “Is that really true?” he asks. He doesn’t even try to hide his smile.

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “It is. You’re being a bigger shit even than Matt lately. At least all he did was hold the boss.” He nods down to Nick’s thighs. “You really showed your ass out there.”

“Hey!” and, finally, Eddie’s getting something a little farther from the mask. “It was embarrassing.”

“Stop doing embarrassing shit and embarrassing shit will stop happening to you,” Eddie says, shrugging. “Now get your ass out of my lap unless you’re willing to be good.”

Nick rolls his eyes. “You don’t like it when I’m good.”

“I like you when you’re not being a prick,” Eddie says, pinching a part of Nick’s ass where the pants ripped. The boxers are nice quality but thin, and Nick squeaks. “Showed your ass,” Eddie murmurs. He pauses. “Get on my lap.”

“What?” Nick asks.

“You gonna be an asshole, you’re gonna get punished,” Eddie says. “Now. Across my lap.”

Nick eyes him, hesitant. “I’m in my clothes.”

“You got a big enough rip in those pants it won’t matter.”

Nick drapes himself across Eddie’s thighs, ass up and ready. Eddie takes the moment to eye what’s in front of him. Usually he’s got a little less annoyance running through his veins when he’s got a pretty man draped on top of him, but maybe Nick has earned it this time. Eddie paws at the hole in Nick’s pants, pulling at the seams so the thread pulls apart more.

“This is a weird tactic,” Nick grumbles. “Also, are you going to do anything?”

“Maybe,” Eddie says, pulling at the fabric a little harder. The seam fully separates into two distinct sides, leaving most of Nick’s underpantsed ass on display.

“This suit was so expensive,” Nick sighs. “I already have that first pair getting fixed, but I think you just effed this one up past the point of – oh.”

Eddie grins as Nick relaxes into the first gentle smack of his ass. He never goes too hard, even with a layer of underwear in between his hand and Nick’s skin, but the sound and the way Nick’s muscle moves under his hand doesn’t need much force to be good.

Nick stretches, popping his ass up. He hums.

“You’re not supposed to be enjoying this so much,” Eddie mutters, swatting again.

Nick shrugs off the suit jacket and puts it on the floor. He’s got on a comparatively boring shirt underneath. Eddie hopes he can rip that, too. “What, you gonna punish me better or something?”

“I could kick you out,” Eddie says, tapping his fingers on the spot where he knows Nick’s ass must already be smarting. “Haul you up and dump you in the hallway like the dishes from room service.”

“You wouldn’t,” Nick scoffs. “You haven’t even seen me shirtless.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Eddie says. He adds a little more behind this next hit, firm with a flat palm, and he finally gets Nick mewling. “There it is. Can’t be a little bitch when you’re trying not to fall off my lap, can you?” He slides his hand into the pants, trying to get to a little skin. He finds the waistband and pulls it down, grinning at the pink skin he can see. He lets it snap back and Nick sighs. “Much better. Sometimes, I like you more when you shut up.”

Nick whimpers again and ruts against Eddie’s thigh.

“Yeah, I saw that coming,” he sighs. “You think you deserve that tonight? Think you get to come after all you did?”

“I – no,” he says. “But maybe – maybe you get to make me come?” He glances over to Eddie, face red from being just the wrong side of horizontal. And likely from something else. “Maybe it’s not for me, right?”

“Don’t try the boo boo eyes,” Eddie says sharply. He smacks Nick’s ass again, and Nick’s eyes flutter closed. He doesn’t even remember to hide his smile. “You ain’t Matty and I ain’t Mox.”

“Don’t bring up my brother when I have a hardon,” Nick says.

“Don’t beat the shit out of the boss on live television.” Eddie grabs a handful of Nick’s ass, fingers gripping the fabric.

He waits for Nick to wonder, for him to know he’s being made to wait. “Um, hello?” Nick says. He grinds down again, trying to find friction against Eddie’s thigh through all the layers of fabric, but Eddie shifts his leg so Nick can’t get anywhere near where he wants to be.

“Yeah?” Eddie says. He makes sure to get a good handle on the fabric. “What?”

Nick glances over his shoulder. He doesn’t speak.

Eddie chuckles. “Yeah, I know.” He tears. The sound of fabric ripping as it exposes Nick’s ass should become his ringtone. Especially with the little sounds in the background from Nick.

“What are you planning on doing?” he whispers.

Eddie pulls a little harder so all of Nick’s ass is exposed and grins. There’s a good red mark, a vague shape of Eddie’s hand. “Fuck do you think?” He pulls back and hits right at the red spot. Gentler, this time, since there’s no fabric, but Nick moans either way.

“Please,” Nick whines. “Please, I’ll be good. Just – something.”

“Oh, you’ll be good?” Eddie asks. He pinches at Nick’s skin, grinning as Nick squirms. “Not sure you can be good, Nicky.”

Nick hums, finally getting an angle to thrust against Eddie’s thigh. “Please,” he says. “I’ll try.”

“I sure doubt that.” Eddie stands and lets Nick tumble to the floor. He falls, mouth open, and rolls to look up at Eddie. “I already said don’t try the boo boo eyes.”

“I’m not trying boo boo eyes!” Nick argues, but it’s clear even he knows he’s lying.

“Power hungry little bastard.” Eddie leans down and grabs a handful of Nick’s hair, yanking him to his feet. Nick’s smiling, eyes closed. He’s enjoying this too much. And Eddie’s letting him. “You know your real place, don’t you?”

Nick nods.

“Stand up,” Eddie says. “Hands on the bed.”

Nick springs to his feet without any difficulty, even with fabric falling all over the place. He obeys Eddie without argument.

“Wait,” Eddie says. “No touching. No moving. You hear me?”

Nick’s quiet enough that Eddie pauses.

“Oh, am I allowed to talk?” Nick asks. “You know, talking is moving.”

“Now you’re not,” Eddie snaps. “Shut the fuck up. All you can do right now is stand and breathe, you little shit.”

Eddie takes his time as he takes off his belt and grabs the lube. He knows Nick keeps extra in his bags, so he takes his time digging through the layers and layers of clothes, even when it’s clutched in his hand. He resorts to jostling the bag so it sounds like he’s still searching. He’s waiting for Nick to say something. Honestly, he’s waiting for Nick to beg.

“Eddie?” Nick says, and there it is. That quiet, almost pleading tone.

“Yeah?”

“I think I’m gonna be good now,” Nick says. It’s almost sad, how tiny his voice is. But, as everyone who watched tonight knows, he deserves it. “I’m getting cold.”

“Cold, huh?” Eddie asks. He zips the back shut and walks over. He gives a gentle pat to where Nick’s ass is exposed. “Can’t imagine why.”

Nick twitches under his hand. “More?” he asks.

“Yeah? What kind of more?” Eddie asks. He already knows, of course. Nick’s got his ass stuck out so far he can’t want anything else.

“In me,” he says. He drops his head down where his hands are clasped together. In any other setting, he could be praying. “I’m sorry. Whatever I have to do, just. Tell me.”

“Tell you, huh,” Eddie murmurs. He runs his finger shallowly between Nick’s cheeks, reminding him that Eddie is right here. “I want you to stop fucking around with the company. I want you to get your head out of your ass and be a decent boss.”

“Okay,” Nick murmurs. “Okay, I will.”

Eddie knows he doesn’t mean it. He’s going to walk out of here tomorrow morning after kissing Eddie, and he’s going to be just as horrible and just as miserable as soon as he gets back around Matt.

But it’s easy to pretend when Nick is whimpering and right in front of him and promising all these nice things.

“Good boy,” Eddie says, leaning over Nick’s back until he can turn his chin to kiss him. Nick whimpers against his lips, and Eddie is powerless. “Brace yourself.”

“I’m still dressed.”

“Not where it counts.” Eddie grins and swipes a slick finger between Nick’s cheeks. It’s not a yelp, exactly, that comes out of Nick, but it’s equally fun. “See? I don’t even need to get you naked. You’re all ready for me.”

“I am,” Nick says. “I – I want you in me, okay?”

“I can make that happen,” Eddie says, and he finds Nick’s hole easily and slides a finger in like he was made to be there. “Better?”

“Sort of,” Nick mumbles. He drops his head forward on his hands. “Not exactly what I meant.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and slowly moves his finger. “I know what you meant.”

Nick’s finally silent as Eddie gets him ready. He takes his time, knows Nick needs it, even if Nick would insist otherwise. If he’s wound up enough to start committing assault on live television, there’s no way they can take this fast. He’ll draw this out, finger by finger.

He’s heard stories from Mox about Matt. How it’s fast, how it’s rough, how sometimes it’s over right after it’s begun, because Matt is so eager for everything all the time right now. Nick’s got his moments, Eddie muses as the third finger stretches him and Nick sighs against the sheets, but speed is his game in the ring. Not in the bedroom.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks. He pushes away the fabric to get a better look at the way Nick finds space for him. “Ready?”

Nick mumbles something that sounds like, “Have been.”

Eddie sighs and shoves his pants down his hips. He kicks them off. With the way Nick gets sometimes, adding a way to fall over feels like a bad idea. “Alright, baby.”

Nick sighs and stretches his arms forward, catlike, as Eddie slides into him. It’s strange, to be balls deep in the guy when he’s still technically fully dressed, but feeling of the fabric under his fingers as he grips Nick’s waist has a certain appeal.

“You always feel so good, baby,” Eddie murmurs. He pulls back slowly.

“’M always good,” Nick replies.

“Like fuck you are,” Eddie laughs, moving a little more quickly. “This your way of asking for it harder or something?”

“Just stating facts,” Nick says. But the way he looks over his shoulder, the way he grins, says otherwise.

“I see,” Eddie says. He moves one had into Nick’s hair, tugging the ponytail until Nick’s using all that flexibility. “Think you can play around, huh?”

“Playing around is, like, half my job,” Nick says, following back when Eddie pulls almost all the way out. “Get – stop that.”

“Stop what?” Eddie asks.

“Stop teasing,” Nick says. “You’re being all – I don’t know. Whatever it is, I want it different.”

“Okay,” Eddie says. He grabs fabric on either side of where he’s inside of Nick and thrusts in as he rips the clothes apart. It effectively sates a previously unknown part of him, one that wants to prove Nick is his to everyone and make it front page news. “That kinda different?”

“This suit was so expensive,” Nick grumbles, but he whines when Eddie increases his pace. Eddie’s pretty sure he’s forgiven.

Nick is surprisingly quiet the whole time, mostly hums of encouragement, so Eddie is kept with his thoughts and the sounds of his skin slapping against Nick’s.

He groans, deep in his throat, when he feels Nick clench around him. “You wanna come, baby?”

“Want you to,” Nick murmurs. “I wanna feel it.”

Eddie moans, and he wishes he could keep his shit together around Nick a little better. “I will, baby,” he promises. “Any time you want.”

Nick chuckles. “Yeah?”

“Shut up,” Eddie says, laughing with Nick. “I try my best.”

“You do,” Nick murmurs. “Come on.” He tightens around Eddie’s dick. “Come on, I want you to.”

“I will, baby.” Eddie’s too old, way too old, to come on command anymore, but with a little focus he can get himself there. He pushes into Nick one more time with a gasp of Nick’s name, and he lets himself really feel Nick, lets himself enjoy the moment. He comes back to his body and hears something unexpected.

“Are you crying?” Eddie asks. He pulls out, gentle, and turns Nick around. “Babe, what the hell?”

“I want to come,” Nick begs. “But I know – I know I don’t –”

“You know you don’t what?” Eddie asks. He’s already going to Nick’s belt, throwing it to the floor.

“I know I don’t get to,” he whispers.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous, Nick. You can be as stupid and batshit in the ring as you want. I’m not gonna punish you for real about it. Not in here.” He drops to his knees. “Sit down, babe. I’ll take care of you.”

Eddie pulls what used to be Nick’s pants down his hips. “You really are miserable,” he says, eyeing Nick’s leaking cock. He slides his mouth around Nick, and he can tell, just from the way Nick wails, that this won’t last very long. Good for him, too, because his knees won’t handle this position for too long.

“Eddie,” he whispers, “Eddie, can I?”

Eddie pulls off and uses his hand, “Yeah, Nick. You can.”

He didn’t expect Nick to come on his face. He really didn’t. But Nick sobs out his name and comes, hot and wet, all over Eddie. At the very least, he hadn’t changed into his pajamas yet. He chuckles as he looks up at Nick, who looks like he’s fighting not to fall over back on the bed.

“That was new,” Eddie says. He pulls off his shirt and mops up his face. “You have fun?”

Nick mumbles and falls back on the bed. “Yeah.”

Eddie stands. “You alive?”

Nick’s eyes are closed, his entire body limp. “Probably.”

Eddie leans down and kisses Nick’s forehead. “Up you get, baby. Gotta get you cleaned up after all that.”

Nick sighs, dramatic as ever, but allows Eddie to help him to the shower. He frowns at the heap of material that once called itself suit pants. “Those pants are pretty effed, aren’t they?”

“Were when you ripped the hole in the ass,” Eddie says, patting Nick on the hip. “In the shower. We’ll worry about your pretty little outfit later.”

“But what if –”

Eddie pushes him into the shower. “Stop it. Shut that brain up and let yourself relax. We’ll handle all of it in the morning.”

“In the morning,” Nick echoes. And Eddie can see it in his eyes – he’s finally let the evening go, whatever that means.

Mini Playlist: Nothing Suits Me Like a Suit - Neil Patrick Harris Slow it Down - Kim Petras No Mercy - Austin Giorgio Use Me - PVRIS feat. 070 Shake

#EddieNick #Hello look I've never written them before! Hopefully this is okay!#wtf i like wrestling now???#in which sara writes

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soriaryl · 7 months

Text

Madam Ruby Part 03

Continued from 11/15/2023

“Are you sure this’s gonna work?” Sapphire paced the room.

“No, but it’s the only chance we got.” I kept my voice low so that we would not be heard.

“Why can’t we bring John in on this?” Emerald asked.

“Because I still don’t know if we can trust him, and we’re out of time.”

“What if I can find out for sure?” Diamond suggested. “He’s sweet on me, and I think I can flip him.”

I thought about what she said. “Do it. If you can’t, we’ll stick to the original plan.”

“Ruby!” Eli called up from downstairs.

“All right, here goes everything.” I walked out of the room and down the stairs. “The girls are getting changed now.”

He pulled me closer to him and whispered in my ear, “You’re not plannin’ anythin’, are ya?”

“Only planning on showing you that we may have found something.” I wrapped the lie in a truth. “I found some dynamite, and John helped me rig it to open up a tunnel deeper into the mountain. If there’s silver in the hills, it’ll be in there.”

“How did such smarts get into a pretty woman like you?” He nuzzled the side of my neck.

“God’s Grace.”

My four girls came down the stairs in their mining clothes. “We’re ready,” Sapphire announced.

Eli stood up but kept his arm wrapped around my torso. “Then let’s get going.” John walked with the girls, followed by the rest of the gang. “Remember what I’ll do if you try anything.”

I escaped from his grip. “Trust me, Eli. I never forget what’s at stake.”

“Good.” He pointed to the door. “After you, my dove.”

I pushed through the saloon doors and hopped onto the wagon that John hooked up for the girls and me. Diamond winked and climbed over the low seat back and sat next to him. She grabbed his thick arm and held onto it while she laid her head on his shoulder.

Eli and the rest of his gang followed the wagon up on their horses. When we reached the mine entrance, I jumped out of the wagon and helped Emerald, Topaz, and Sapphire down. John assisted Diamond, and she gave me the barest of nods that we could trust him.

I prayed to God that it would not be our downfall. Maybe I should pray to Lady Luck instead, since we’re gonna rely on Her power for most of this.

“Follow me,” I said with no emotion in my voice. I lit a few lanterns and handed them to the girls, John, and Eli. They all followed me down the main tunnel into the large cavern. “Now, there’s three different tunnels that we’ve been working with, so we can split up to cover more ground.” The girls handed the lanterns to members of the gang so they could explore the mine.

“What about the dynamite?” Eli asked when he grabbed my hand.

“That’ll come later,” I promised.

Aaron shouted from the central tunnel, “Boss! There’s silver here!”

Marcus’s voice came from the left side tunnel. “Here too!”

Eli gave me a look like he did not trust me. He pulled me over to where Aaron was standing and held the light up to the rock. He touched it with his fingertips. Only a couple of flakes came off the wall, the rest stayed and sparkled. “How did the miners miss this?” he wondered out loud.

“Maybe they weren’t interested in small amounts like this,” I answered. “When you’re looking for a vein, you’ll skip over the tiny flecks.”

He held his finger closer to the lantern, and a smile grew on his lips. “We’re rich.” He set the lantern on the ground, picked me up, and twirled me in his arms. “We’re rich!” He tried to kiss me, but I pulled away. He dropped me onto the ground, anger radiating from him.

Aaron took a step away from us.

“How dare you deny me?” Eli growled.

I shot back, “I always dare. Especially on days like today.”

“You still don’t get it, do you? I own you!”

“Nobody owns me. Not even a murdering bastard like you.”

He backhanded me across the face hard enough that I fell back to the ground, and my lip split. He grabbed me by my hair and pulled me back up to my feet. He dragged me out of the mine. “Saddle up, boys! We’ll be back here later. My wife has somethin’ special for us to celebrate with.” He threw me into the wagon, where my girls all gathered with me.

John looked over his shoulder and handed me a handkerchief to wipe the blood that seeped from my lip. “Thank you,” I whispered. The anger that flared through him helped me to see that Diamond was right. John could betray his gang. She just needs to convince him to do so.

He drove the cart down the trail and back into Silver Hills. Eli grabbed me from the wagon and hauled me over his shoulder. Behind the bar was a set of stairs that led down into the cellar under a trapdoor. He tossed me on the ground and threw the hatch open. He lugged me down the steps to where I kept the alcohol.

“Where is it?” he asked with an edge in his voice.

“What’re—”

He slapped me again. “I know you’re hiding somethin’ down here! Where is it?” He tore through the bottles until he found an old, dusty jar sealed with wax in the furthest part of the cellar.

“Not that one!” I called out to stop him, but he just pushed me back.

He wiped the dust off the label. “Con-grat-u-la-shuns, Marshall and Ruby. Dated 1865.” He looked down at me. “This is what you’re hidin’?”

“Please, Eli, it’s the only thing I got left of him!” I pleaded.

His smile became vicious. “Then I guess it’s time to erase him from your history.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me from the cellar and set the bottle on the bar. “Serve it,” he whispered with more than a hint of malice in his voice. He stood next to me, keeping his arm around my waist.

I cried while I opened the bottle. Part of me wanted to shatter it on the ground rather than serve it, but I had to think of my girls. I divvied the almost-black contents into glasses, having just enough for the gang.

Topaz served the glasses to each of the men. Aaron slapped her on the ass when she passed by him with the last glass. He tried to pull her into his lap, but she barely made it out of reach when he grabbed for her.

“I propose a toast,” Eli told his gang.

I leaned against the back of the bar where the alcohol sat on shelves. I wiped away my tears and apologized to Marshall, I’m sorry, love.

Eli held his glass up in the air. “Here’s to the girls who found the silver in the mine—”

A glass shattered, and I looked over at Diamond who “bumped” into John.

Eli glared at her. “Clean it up!”

I tossed her a rag, and she quickly cleaned the spill. “Eli, there’s none left in the bottle,” I explained when he turned to me.

“Sorry, John, but maybe Diamond there can give herself up in exchange for what she broke.”

“Maybe it’s best that negros don’t have a white man’s drink,” Aaron chuckled to himself, but the rest of the gang heard it and laughed with him. Only Eli and John refused to join in.

Eli continued his toast, “Here’s to us becomin’ rich!”

“Here, here!” his gang shouted, and they all knocked back the dark alcohol.

Eli’s eyes lit up when he looked at me. “What is this?”

“It was my wedding wine.”

He did not say anything for a second. “Come with me.”

I fought a little, but after he gave me a cold look, I stopped trying to get away. I gave my girls the signal, and they knew what to do next. My job was to keep Eli occupied while the girls went to work.

He slammed the door to our room open and threw me onto the bed. He leapt on top of me and kept trying to catch my lips with his. “Jus’ accept it, Ruby.” He finally moved my face to be nose-to-nose with him. “You belong to me, now and forever.” He was gentle at first, at odds with the man I knew he was. That softness did not last long. He sat up on my hips and ripped my shirt off of me. He struggled with his belt buckle, and that is when I knew I was free.

“You all right?” I asked, even though I already knew what was going on.

He slid off the bed and stumbled a little while he tried to stay upright. “Wha’ di’ ya do?” he slurred.

“I didn’t do anything,” I replied with a sweet smile. I stood up and put my arms around his shoulders. “Except serve you some cactus wine laced with laudanum.”

“Wha?”

“Tchtchtch,” I clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth. “You should know better than to drink on an empty stomach. But it will help you enjoy this.”

“Enjoy wha?” His eyes fluttered a little as he fought with the drink.

I pushed him onto the bed with a thump. “You want me to do my wifely duties, right?” I straddled his hips with my thighs and leaned forward to meet his eyes.

“Yes,” he breathed. He yanked me down on top of him and stuck his tongue in my mouth. I found the ropes that I hid behind the top of the mattress while he was distracted. I looped them around his wrists but did not pull them tight.

Three knocks on the door, and then silence. I sat back up, tightening the ropes around his wrists. “Looks like your time is up, Eli.”

“Wha’ ya mean?” His eyes tried to focus on me, but the dilution of opium in the wine made it hard.

“You’ll see.” I smiled and climbed off the bed.

He tried to sit up and stand, but he might as well have been a turtle on its back. I took off the torn shirt, grabbed another one, and put it on. “Ruby!” he shouted. I blew him a kiss and left the room. “Ruby!” he yelled again.

Sapphire stood by the stairs.

“How did it go?” I asked her.

She smiled. “See for yourself.”

The gang was asleep and tied up like little presents. “And it ain’t even Christmas.”

Emerald, Diamond, and Topaz sat near a tied-up John.

“He’s bein’ stubborn,” Topaz mumbled.

I pulled a chair up and sat down in front of him. “Lemme put it to you this way, John. Either you help us, or you die with them. You can become rich from their bounties, or my girls will. You’re not like them, John. You don’t relish in the violence they cause. If you help us get rid of them, I promise that I’ll make sure the rangers don’t look your way.”

He looked at the gang, then to the girls. “What do you wan’ me to do?”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Simple. We need help carrying them to the mine.”

He narrowed his eyes. “That’s what the dynamite was for?”

“Exactly. Or, if you like, we can string them up like they did my husband one year ago. Unless you had something to do with—”

He interrupted me, “I followed the girls out of town. I ain’t have nothin’ to do with that hanging.”

I looked to my girls. “This true?”

“He’s the one who caught us before we made it to the train station,” Emerald explained.

I stood up from the chair and wiped my hands on my trousers. “So? Which path are you gonna go down? The path to Hell with them? Or the path to redemption?”

“You swear you’ll keep the rangers off my tail?”

“I promise. And there’s the bonus of becoming a rich man.”

He did not take long to make his choice. “I can get them up the hill in the wagon.”

“Ruby!” Eli screamed from upstairs.

“What ‘bout Eli?” he asked as Diamond untied him.

“I’ve got special plans for him.” I put my hand out to him, and he used it to stand up. “You won’t be the one to kill them, if that helps. No need to get blood on your hands where there is none now.”

He gave me an odd look but shrugged. “Let’s get to it, then.”

We stacked the gang members in the cart. Their feet faced the front and their heads hung over the back end. “We’ll need proof of their deaths for the reward,” Emerald reminded me.

“I think the old preacher had one of them picture takin’ things,” Topaz told her. Topaz, Diamond, and John left to the preacher’s house, then up the mountain to cave-in the mine. Sapphire and Emerald took two horses and headed down to the train station to get a ranger up here.

I went back to the saloon and cleaned it up. I wanted it perfect for when I marched Eli down and outside. Inside my tiny office was a knife that Marshall gave me on our first anniversary. It was made of cherry red wood and had a simple sheath of a cardinal embroidered on it. He had it specially made after I successfully hunted a rabbit on my own. I put the sheath in my boot and covered it with my trousers.

On my desk was a small box. I opened it to show a needle and syringe with a vial laying on its side. I grabbed the needle and syringe, stuck it into the vial and pulled opium into it. It was just enough to sedate him for half an hour, but that would be long enough.

I also found the lipstick that I wore on my wedding day with Marshall. This is will do the trick. I stuffed the lipstick inside my corset between my breasts. The red was just as bright as my eyes, which is why Marshall bought it for me in the first place.

I found him still struggling against the binds on his arms. He must have worked off the drugs in his system by trying to get free.

“Ruby!” There was rage and fury in his voice, but also something laced underneath. It could have been desire. He licked his lips. “Ruby, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Trust me, Eli. There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“Once I get free—”

I laughed. “Oh, darlin’, you ain’t getting out of this one.” I leaned over his face. “But I do want you to see something before you die.”

“Like what?”

“Like the end of life as you know it.” I stabbed him in the arm with the needle and pressed on the syringe plunger.

His eyes rolled back as he was filled with the ecstasy that only opium could give. He moaned in pleasure when I lightly touched him with my fingertips. “Please,” he begged.

“Please, what?” I whispered in his ear.

“Please…” he could not finish his thought as another round of euphoria rushed through him.

I untied his hands and retied them behind his back. I laid him across my shoulders and carefully navigated my way outside. I made sure the rest of the town, whoever was left, watched as I sat him on the ground. I looped the rope around his neck and tied the other end to his horse. I took the lipstick out and meticulously applied it to my lips.

The sun rose higher over the horizon, and Eli stirred. We had a crowd of the people left in Silver Hills. “Eli Carver!” I yelled more to the crowd than to him.

He looked around and realized where he was. He tried to fight off the noose, but it was too tight to shake off.

“You are hereby found guilty on counts of train robbery, theft, assault, and murder.” I glanced back at him. “And as punishment for your crimes, you will watch your men killed and then hanged until dead.”

His eyes widened in genuine terror as I sauntered in front of him. “Ruby, don’t do this. I can change.”

“You lost that chance of redemption when you murdered my husband, kidnapped me, stole my town, and tortured my girls.” I moved to his side, helped him stand, and pointed to the mine on the hill. “Watch.” I took the knife from my boot and flashed the sunlight off of it.

I received a flash back, and I put the knife away. I held Eli’s head to force him to watch as the hillside exploded. The sound echoed through the town and its valley.

“No…” He tried to shake his head from my grip, so I let him go. He glared at me. “No! You’re not a killer, my dove—”

“I ain’t your dove!” I snapped at him. “I am the wife of the fallen sheriff. I ain’t killing them or you in cold-blood.”

“Then what do you call this?”

I smiled and kissed him on the lips. “Justice.” I moved behind him and guided the horse forward. Eli rose off the ground. This would be the slow death he deserved for everything he did. He kicked his feet and tried to get out of the noose and binds. I used my weight to pull the rope down more and tied it to the anchor in the ground. I let the horse free from its duties, and it ambled back to the front of the saloon.

He hanged there in panic and pain, just like he did to Marshall one year ago. I walked around to the front and just watched. I let the image of him begging, pleading, trying to breathe, and survive burn into my mind. This would bring me the peace I craved. He finally stopped kicking and moving after a while.

I turned back to the crowd. “Eli Carver is dead. But that means nothing after your cowardice killed Marshall. The only reason I don’t string any of you alongside Eli is because Marshall wouldn’t have wanted that. He wanted to build a home here, and I intend to honor him and his memory. If any of you want to leave, go. Those who want to stay, we have work to do to take the stain of Eli and his gang off our town.”

Emerald and Sapphire rode in, just as Topaz, Diamond, and John came back into town. They all stared at Eli hanging there, with the smear of red lipstick on his mouth. They then looked to me, and there was satisfaction in the girls’ eyes. John looked like he was not sure what to think.

Another horse galloped into the center square and stopped just in front of the gallows. “What’s goin’ on here?”

“Justice,” I answered. “Who are you?”

Sapphire made the introductions. “Madam Ruby, this is Cal Deacon. He’s a ranger.”

His blond hair was cut short to his head, which made his blue eyes pop even more. He looked from Eli to John then to me. He took his hat off his head and bent his head a little. “Ma’am.” It felt like nothing escaped his notice.

“Ranger.” I cut to the chase. “Why’re you here?”

“Heard rumors of Eli Carver’s gang set up a hideaway near here. When these two ladies were trying to send a message to the nearest Rangers’ station, I made my acquaintance.” He gave Eli’s corpse a long look. “But it looks like I’m too late to arrest him. Where’s the rest of his gang?”

John spoke up, “Buried in a mine shaft.”

“And you are?”

“John. John… Onyx.” He gave himself a last name. “I work for Madam Ruby. She’s the proprietress of the saloon and mayor of Silver Hills.” He looked at the other people left in town and none of them said anything differently.

I raised an eyebrow at the promotion. “Since Eli Carver and his gang are dead, there’s no need for you to stay Ranger Deacon.”

He looked around the small town. “You know, normally, there’s someone here with a shiny badge telling me to get off their turf.” He looked at our faces. “My guess is that Eli killed your sheriff when he first arrived.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Keep talking. You’ll get to the point eventually.”

“I’m saying that if you’re gonna run a way station town, you need a sheriff. I don’t see anyone else stepping up.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you volunteering?”

“If you’ll have me. Life on the road hunting outlaws gets old after a while. Maybe I can stay here for a while until the wander bug bites me again.” He put his hand out to me. “What say you, Madam Mayor?”

I looked at my girls, then my town. I froze and stopped breathing when I saw what I thought was the ghost of Marshall. He blew me a kiss and bid me farewell. I gathered my wits and exhaled the breath I had been holding. “Welcome to Silver Hills, Sheriff Deacon.” I shook his hand.

#BlackCatOrangeCatPub #short story #SoriAryl #western #Madam Ruby

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blackpoolcombatwriter · 1 year

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What's something you think each of the wrestling shows you watch could be doing better?

This got really long quickly so it's going behind a cut to not be annoying.

There's a lot I think all the shows could be doing better but two overall for all the shows would be 1. Book the women better! Our of all the shows I watch, NXT probably does the best job in booking their women's division. If the audience doesn't see the women and get to know them, then of course they're more likely to change the channel or go get a snack or something. No one's given them a reason to care. 2. Get rid of the problematic wrestlers, management, etc. I don't care if it's Vince or someone backstage we never see or the lowest guy on the roster. People need to feel safe at their place of employment. They need to figure out a way where wrestlers and employees can report feeling unsafe without having to worry it will affect their career. There would also have to be a system in place for how severe the issues are. Like a "I don't feel safe around X because they're known to take advantage of young girls getting into the business" needs to be addressed differently than "X hits too hard and I don't want to be in the ring with them".

RAW: They've gotten better at it recently, maybe because of Triple H, but having a storyline that runs through the whole show. People want to see payoff so they're more likely to stay until the end if you give them a hook. Sometimes just announcing a cool main event isn't enough if people aren't invested in it.

NXT: I think they're mostly doing great. They have good characters, good storylines, they're letting their more green wrestlers grow. I would like to see them get out of their current set-up just to see different arenas. They're doing some house shows now so instead of the weekends, have one on a Tuesday and film it.

SD: Basically just even things out. It's hard to argue with the success of the Bloodline angle. Peaking 3 million last week was huge. But with viewers dropping out after it was over, it's clear a lot weren't interested to see what else was going on. We see the producers and writers have the ability to put something like that together, so create exciting storylines for other wrestlers. Give others a chance to prove they can bring it just as well as the Bloodline because I have no doubts there's people on that roster who can emmy-worthy act if given the chance to break away from their boxed-in characters.

Dynamite: Tony needs help. I know he says he's added people to help with creative and a lot of wrestlers have creative freedom, but he still says everything goes through him for approval. But it also means we see some start and stop pushes of wrestlers who could be in much better positions if their push had been sustained. Sometimes injuries happen, but when Britt was injured she got the great roll model angle to keep her on TV and when she came back, she wasn't forgotten about. There's no reason why a wrestler in the middle of a push needs to disappear off TV when you have 5 hours a week. Even a thirty second backstage spot would help keep them fresh. Maybe it's more of a time management issue than anything else because there's definitely been main events where it's felt rushed to get everything in before they go off air.

Rampage: This is actually the hardest one for me because there's no way to make it consistent. It's timeslot is already not great and it gets moved around a lot because of other sports. Now that Collision is here, Rampage can feel like an also-ran afterthought where someone looked around during Dynamite to see which wrestlers haven't been used and threw together a quick card for Excalibur to run down with no real explanation to why these matches are happening. I think one Owen match happened on Rampage and maybe two for the tag team tournament. A consistent timeslot is likely out of the question because of reasons beyond their control but there's no reason they can't have some consistent faces and some exclusive storylines that only play out on Rampage. Make Rampage your show for young talent or the talent you're not using, market it as "you want to be in the know for who's next? You gotta watch Rampage". Have tournaments exclusive to Rampage where the winner gets to pick a wrestler to main event(non-title match) against, and if you have that match on Dynamite or Collison, use the footage of them showing out in the tournament to prove to the audience why they deserve it.

Collision: It's still so new that it's hard to really pick something. Probably to figure out what they want to show's identity to be and to stick with it. Is it the Punk and friends show?(except when in Chicago and he's on everything). Is it the people we need to keep apart show?Is it the roster who prefers to work Saturdays because insert reason here(spouse in WWE, no reason but wants to work with someone on this roster, etc). Is it the big men throw around little men show(which, if that is the case I have a list of big men I would like to see throw around some little men)?

Also, one random AEW thing I would change is the unacknowledgement of talents' contracts expiring and letting them go quietly. So far it seems to be people who were around from close to the beginning or maybe a year into it, and if there's nothing for them, it's fine then don't renew their contracts. Hopefully there's more discussion about it between the wrestler and management than there had been. A lot of the ones not being renewed seem to be wrestlers who were staples on Dark and Elevation, but also staples who were in the crowd every week during the Pandemic shows that helped make the shows fun to watch. I don't think a tweet saying they parted ways, thanking them, and a small highlight reel is much to ask. Especially when you know your competition just says best of luck on your future endeavors.

#j answers things #anon asks

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kiribakus-warrior-princess · 2 years

Text

Just a little drabble that I couldn't get out of my head.

TW: Canon typical violence, injury, betrayal,

A/N: In my head, they call each other by their hero names out in public and that's reflected here VERY briefly. Please tell me if you like it. I haven't written in years and I want to again but I can't stop hating everything I write.

Laying on the ground at the mouth of an alleyway was not the way you wanted to go... But unfortunately the piece of shit you'd called a partner had a different idea... After almost 2 years of working with Spectral Barbarian, you hadn't had a single clue who they really were..

You and Spectral Barbarian had decided to move away from the central fight to cut off the villain's escape route but instead, as soon as you were far enough away from the fight, he'd turned on you and caught you off guard with a vicious attack from his spectral war hammer that sent you flying into the corner of a building.

While you were still in shock, he destroyed your coms and stomped you so hard you almost blacked out with strength you hadn't seen in all the time you'd been working together. All while monologuing about how bored he'd been and how he was so relieved to go home and get away from you and how weak you were and blah blah blah.

You pushed yourself up from the ground, forcing your arms under you and pushing with everything you had... One gave out but you managed to get to your knees, cursing as you sat back on your heels to rest for a moment before forcing yourself onto your feet.

You leaned against the wall next to you and took stock of the damage... Your coms system and your phone were completely destroyed 'fuck'. At least one rib was broken, one eye was swollen shut, and even leaning against the wall had what was left of your vision going splotchy along the edges.

A loud explosion snapped your attention back to reality and you looked back toward where the fight was. The sun was setting so all of the fire and light quirks lit up the sky like ominous fireworks.

"I need to get back there." You groaned, using the wall for support and forcing your feet to drag you down the street toward the fight.

'Almost there, just a few more steps, I have to help them.' You repeated in your mind over and over again like that alone could keep you going. Your legs were so heavy like you were walking through slow drying concrete but you couldn't stop, you had to move forward.

You were so in your head that you didn't hear the fighting die down, and you didn't notice that you'd made it back to where all of the pro-Heros were still congregated until you heard the familiar voices of your friends and colleagues.

"Can someone call me a medic?" You tried to shout but there was no power behind it as you finally allowed yourself to slide down the wall that had been supporting you.

Several things happened at once. Everyone who heard you turned around and gasped at your sorry state. Medics were called, your friends swarmed you, and a bunch of different questions were being asked at the same time.

"Holy shit, what happened"

"Where were you?"

"Does this hurt?"

"Can you breathe?"

"When did the villain get you?"

The world was spinning too fast, you couldn't think straight to answer anything until large, warm hands settled on your shoulders...And shook you.

"Oi! Get out of your head and answer the questions!" Bakugo demanded as gentle as he ever was.

"Dynamite, be gentle, we don't know how bad their injuries are." Kirishima put his hands over Bakugo's and stopped the shaking.

"Their spine is fine... A couple of fucked up ribs and probably a concussion but the rest of the injuries are superficial." Bakugo added, but he did refrain from shaking you again and instead used his hands to make sure you were looking at him. "Who did this to you."

You took a deep breath, you knew as soon as you said who it was, a least one of them would take off after him.

"Spectral Barbarian turned on me." You began. "He told me he had intel that found a retreat around the other side of the building and we were heading over there to block the escape and as soon as we were out of site he smashed my ribs with his hammer and proceeded to stomp on my face while telling me how much of a weak piece of shit I am..."

Just like you'd predicted, Bakugo straightened up, and about 3 others started formulating a plan and panic struck you.

"WAIT!" You yelled. " He's so much stronger than he pretended to be! He's never been able to knock me off of my feet that easily before. I don't know how he was hiding his true strength but he was." You babbled, trying to stand up but Kirishima pushed you gently back to sit.

"I don't know how to tell you this, but Spectral Barbarian doesn't exist." He told you, concern clouding his features.

#My hero academia #MHA #I hate how long these take me to write now #I also hate it #I just want to write again so I'm gonna force it until I can do it again #Nikkiwritesthings

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mortytheestallion · 3 years

Text

tasting glass

Part 2 Part 3

Rating: 18+ (No minors); explicit

Wordcount: 1.6k

Warnings: Rick Sanchez x F!Reader, angst, implied age gap, unprotected sex, daddy kink

A/N: Hello I’m back from the dead, I know I’ve been lacking on both fandoms but my hyperfixations have died. In honor of season 5 here’s a new little mini-series I’m challenging myself to this summer! This takes place in between episodes 2 and 3!

The summer heat was humid and sticky as Rick finished his latest project. The sweltering seemed to permeate the garage just the same with the door opened or closed, and with Beth and Jerry’s latest fight reaching its peak, he decided hiding away was his best bet.

Rick and the heat did not get along well, something that translated to the rest of the family, it felt as though he was fending off Summer and Morty with a stick. Their boredom was not his problem though, he had much better things to do. The thought of slipping away had plagued his mind for the last few hours, but the fever of the summer seemed to make his mind feel like syrup.

“What I wouldn’t fucking give for a pool right now?” Rick murmured to himself, his brow furrowing at the reminder of his own sticky misery. The sky bathed the house in a silky red with the sun slipping down under the horizon. He took another sip from his flask, turning to lean on the workbench.

He heaved a deep sigh as his phone caught the corner of his eye, you were ignoring him, and in true Rick fashion he had taken that in stride. His eyes narrowed unconsciously as he thought about it, his empty hand tightening into a fist. He didn’t fucking need you.

He didn’t need anybody.

Beth’s shrill voice cut through the air followed by some thuds and an “Ow!” from Jerry. That earned an eye roll from Rick and while he wouldn’t mind going in there and tearing them a new one, it was too much work. Morty was breathing down his neck about letting them be, that they were happy. He had scoffed when Morty said that, it was bullshit and he wouldn’t be surprised if someone wanted another divorce in the next 6 months.

Nonetheless, he was stuck in this stuffy house with his family’s bullshit to avoid your bullshit and he was starting to feel suffocated. Why did he give a shit if you were mad, fuck if you wanted to play that game so would he. Maybe it was the liquor he had just downed but it really didn't take much to get Rick riled up. And you knew that.

He could feel the anger blooming in his chest, he wasn’t some fucking teenager in a petty fight with some dumb, little girlfriend. Suddenly he was hot with anger and before he knew it, a portal was in the center of the floor and he was walking through. Damned be his new fibermesh epidermis defense, and fuck his family, always asking him for shit.

One foot through he stopped and thought of you briefly softening, he had been pretty rough on you lately. You called, he declined. You showed up, he went out the nearest portal. He had really only been around lately to take care of his own needs.

A particularly loud curse from inside the house brought him right back to his original train of thought, he was the smartest man in the universe, he didn’t need to take crap from you. You should be thanking him for his presence in your life.

“You have some fucking nerve.”

You shrieked as Rick pulled back the shower curtain. A cold shower was one of the better ways to fend off the heat with the air conditioner broken, especially since Rick had moaned, groaned, and wormed his way out of fixing it.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You hissed as he climbed in fully clothed, his brow in a prominent V-shape, lids half mast. It would have been comical in any other situation, his lanky body struggling to fit in your small shower, an almost bored expression on his face as the water drenched his clothes.

“Me?” Rick scoffed, and narrowed his eyes at you. He began to lose his composure a bit, having your wet naked body in front of him.

“Yes, you. You can’t just barge in here unannounced anymore Rick. I’m not some toy you can pick up when you’re bored and throw it away when you’re not.”

He feigned a hurt look, shrugged the now soaked coat from his shoulders. “I have enough toys, sweetheart, if you were one you’d know.”

That earned a huff from you, it had been a long day and the last thing you needed was Rick’s bullshit. Turning back to face the water, you rinsed the rest of the soap off of you, jumping slightly as his arms snaked their way around your waist.

“C’mon,” he murmured, pressing kisses to your shoulder, you could feel the hard press of cold denim against your ass as he ground into you, “you know you can’t refuse my huge dynamite penis.”

That earned a snort from you, the hard shell of anger cracking slightly. “You’re not off that easy, Rick. You’ve been a huge asshole lately, even more than usual.”

His hands came up to massage your breasts, the feeling amplified by the cold water. You let out a low moan as he latched his mouth to the sweet spot on your neck while one hand tweaked your nipple, and the other snuck its way down to stroke your fluttering core.

“S-shit baby you can’t still —is this all for me?” You could feel his wolfish grin against the back of your neck, and in return you arched your back more to grind against his erection. His long fingers trace through your folds as he removes his other hand to undo his belt, you feel the tight heat in your lower belly as you gush around his fingers.

“Fuck,” Rick murmurs, stopping his motions momentarily to land a hard smack on your ass. You bite back a whine, wanting to maintain some semblance of composure, despite him being knuckle-deep in you. His fingers suddenly press against something deep and spongy within you, your knees buckle as you lurch forward, the unexpected waves of pleasure shivers down your body. Rick lets out another curse, his arm darting out to grip your waist, surely you would’ve fallen face-first into the wall had he not been holding you up.

He inhales sharply as you clench around his fingers, whispering good girl into your neck as you ride it out. He eases out of you, your juices dripping down your thighs, the feeling coupled with the uncomfortable chill of the water makes you shudder.

“You’re a dirty little slut,” you tense again as he aligns himself to your entrance, still a little sensitive from your release, “beg me baby, I-I want to hear you.”

You mewl as he pushes into you, the stretch rides the line of pleasure and pain, Rick barely gives you enough time to get used to it before he bucks his hips and grips your jaw as a warning, “Beg.”

“Please, Rick, I want — I want you to fuck me,” your voice comes out whiny making you wince a bit, but it seems to please Rick as he sets a deep pace, biting into your neck hard enough it's sure to leave a mark.

You can’t help but arch your back even further, this seems to please him as he releases his bite on your neck, “Someone’s eager, y-you can’t seem to get enough of my dick can you?” You moan in response, snaking a hand down to rub the tender bundle of nerves.

You clench at the contact, leading Rick to fasten his pace, his hand moving to tighten around your neck.

“You’re my — you’re daddy’s good girl aren’t you? Can’t get enough of m-my monster cock, you wanna come don’t you? Don’t fucking dare, not until I say so.”

All you can manage is incoherent moans with the occasional Rick! thrown in, you’re too cockdumb to be embarrassed or angry anymore. Rick has his way of getting out of trouble, especially with you.

His brutal pace coupled with your own fingers becomes too much for you as you near your second orgasm, Rick seemed to egg you on as his own fingers replaced yours, you could feel your stomach tightening as your release began to stir in the peak of your stomach.

“Come on my dick, baby, let the neighbors hear you scream my name.”

The pleasure washes over you in waves, your pussy clenching hard around his dick, he thrusts with wild abandon chasing his own release. You can feel him rut against your sensitive walls, riding your post-orgasmic haze. He spills inside you a few moments later letting out a string of expletives in true Rick fashion. You feel yourself stir again slightly as you feel him fill you up, but Rick extracts himself from you gracelessly.

Coming back to your senses you rinse the mixture of juices off your legs, much to Rick’s distaste, and turn off the water. You shiver from being drenched for so long, side-eyeing Rick as he avoids your gaze.

“You’re dripping on my floor,” you murmur, he stands there uncomfortably, it's not lost on you that his portal gun has returned to his hand.

“Well, I-I should go.”

“Typical.”

Rick can feel the anger simmer low in his belly at your dig, “What do you mean typical?”

“Well let’s see Rick, you show up angry and unannounced, seduce me in my show—” “I didn’t seduce you! And —and frankly, I resent the accusation!” “And now you’re leaving with no explanation. This isn’t sustainable long term, Rick.”

“And what makes you think I want to be here long term,” He regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth, a hurt look flashes across your face before it's replaced with anger.

“Come on, baby, I-I didn’t mean it.”

He reaches out for you and you jerk backwards, “Your family may have taken you back, but I’m not this time Rick.”

He opens his mouth, but you cut him off, “Just go, it’s what you’re best at.”

Rage blinds him as he shoots a portal to the floor, “Don’t — I’m not coming back this time.”

“I know you're not.” And with that he’s gone.

#rick sanchez #rick sanchez x reader #Rick Sanchez/reader #rick sanchez smut #tw daddy kink #rick sanchez x you

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painless-innit-colourful · 2 years

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“Are you coming?” “Yes, sorry, I’m here now.”

Wilbur’s belt is heavy on his waist, but his general feeling is surprisingly light. He jogs towards Dream up the hill beside the wreckage of L’Manberg, and when the wind blows, it stirs the ash lying thick on the ground, making it appear like the crater is still smoking.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” “Yeah, um,” Wilbur pauses a moment to catch his breath and summon his courage, his hand resting on the extra scabbard tied haphazardly around his hips. For the greater good.

For Tommy.

“Just a second, Dream.” The mask tilts in his direction as he unbuckles the scabbard and holds it out to Dream. It feels like a reversal of an old trade. He summons the man he was then, calling his way with words to his lips. Dream unsheathes the blade and regards it with what he’d guess is appreciation? It’s hard to tell around the mask, but the crisp sharpness and the enchantments are the best he could find to be on offer. And he knows Dream has an axe, but there’s a different best tool for every job. After a moment in which only the wind whispers its encouragement to him, Dream’s voice cuts through the quiet.

“Damocles..?” “Ah, I couldn’t help myself. My principal vice is the inability to leave things without their proper names.” He pushes his glasses up his nose, shrugging, playing the pretentious Pogtopian ne’er-do-well. “One of Techno’s Greek heroes?” “I’ll admit, I’ve become predictable. Yes, a classical reference, if you will.” He takes his time over the longer words, enunciating each syllable. He should’ve been an actor. It comes so easily to him.

Dream spends another moment regarding the sword before he tucks it into the scabbard and inspects that too. “I don’t know that story,” He raises his eyes, and the soulless smile of the mask meets his: Wilbur mirrors instinctively. “Remind me.”

“Oh, your average tale of fall and redemption,” He shrugs, playing off the intensity. “Damocles was a great king, made a few mistakes, misunderstood tragedy, imprisoned and left to die-” He lets his words hang for a few seconds, before continuing. “But after he was freed by an old friend, he proved himself innocent of the heinous acts he’d been accused and was forgiven in the eyes of the people, who rejoiced to have their great ruler back.” The smirk on his lips is genuine. “Forgive me; the parallel was irresistible.”

“I see,” Wilbur thinks he can hear a smile, or perhaps amusement, in Dream’s voice. Either way, well done Soot.

“Are you ready to go now?” “Yes, yes, let’s get out of this graveyard.”

Dream’s laugh is warm, easy. Wilbur sticks his hands in his pockets as he walks, appearing totally at ease in his lack of armour, made more significant by the spiked accents at the shoulder of Dream’s chestplate on his near side, sharp enough to take out his eye and a sizeable chunk of his frontal lobe should he trip at the wrong angle. Trust is a troublesome thing to earn - Wilbur knows that better than anybody - but he had a head start here, for once. His fingers brush against the red sticks tied in their loose bunches in the bottoms of his pockets, and he doesn’t think of the promise he made to Eret.

Trinitrotoluene. Not enough to blow up a nation, or even a house. Just enough for one person.

(Regrettably, he knows how much that is now.)

“What about yours?” Dream uses the sheathed blade in his hand to indicate the other scabbard, sitting more cohesively at Wilbur’s side as they walk. “Oh, this old thing?” He draws it, a simple blade, undecorated, unremarkable. There’s still a name on the hilt though, and without being able to see his eyes, Wilbur can tell Dream’s looking at it. “What did you name yours?”

“Oh, yes,” He laughs warmly, snatching his fingers from the dynamite in his pocket to run through the white streak in his hair. “Apate, also a classical reference.” ��Who?”

He’s not going to cause any more damage. He’s going to fix something. For the first time in his life, he’s going to cause some good destruction, regardless of what it does to him. He tilts his head, looking at Dream below his glasses.

“Apate is the personification of deceit.”

#look i know i'm stretching the allegory of the sword of damocles a bit but i've had this idea since literally dream broke out of prison let #me have this. sat down to write and the recent lore in my brain said 'i want in on this' and i'm actually quite proud of this #dialogue work babeyyyy i love writing wilbur talking i do believe he's a wordsmith the way he talks is beautiful #dream smp #crim writes #wilbur soot #dreamwastaken #dsmp fanfic #i think i'll call this one 'apate's gun'. maybe

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flaticeball · 2 years

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at the nhl all star game, there will be a number of cool skills challenges. one of these challenges is the "discover nhl fountain face-off(tm)". this competition apparently "takes place on the iconic bellagio fountains" which players will have to "travel by boat" to reach, and "fountain spray and the breeze off the strip" will provide complicating factors.

this is, in a word, insane. and there can be, in my estimation, only one conclusion. someone WILL end up in that fountain. the only question is will it be the result of: 1. accident, 2. zest for life, 3. pushed (affectionate), or 4. pushed (hateful). i now bring to you based exclusively on my own knowledge of the participants prior to this moment an assessment of the players based on why they, specifically, would end up in the bellagio fountain. no offence meant to any of them, i say this all either positively or neutrally. without further ado:

WHOSE FOUNTAIN IS IT ANYWAY

Jonathan Huberdeau: i don't really know anything about this man myself but the panthers have been dynamite lately and nhl.com describes him as an "offensive wizard" which i think could probably stoke some resentment at the moment. further information from My Good Friend @himbeaux-on-ice informs me he is currently leading the nhl in points. verdict: pushed (hateful)

Claude Giroux: my man here is so fucking tired. please let him live. he needs to relax and let loose for a while, and i feel like this might be a good opportunity for that. verdict: pushed (affectionate)

Jordan Eberle: buddy has Been Thru It on every single team he's ever been on. do not see why this would be any different. verdict: accident

Jocelyne Lamoureaux-Davidson: cooler than pretty much the entire nhl, has done so much interesting stuff and i've kept track of her career out of the corner of my eye. however. she is also a twin. so, provided her sister is in town, this would be a once in a lifetime opportunity. verdict: pushed (affectionate)

Roman Josi: too pretty for his own good, recall him fondly from the period of time where he and pk subban were d-partners. his logo for that drawing competition was an offence against the preds as an organization and also against gd HOWEVER boy did he ever commit. verdict: zest for life

Nick Suzuki: a delight, a pleasure, a meteoric talent. on the habs. Fucking Cursed. verdict: accident

Zach Werenski: i don't know who this man is at all. i google him. he is supposedly "the face of the cbj". this is enough said. verdict: accident

Mark Stone: i feel like this one speaks for itself but it'll be interesting to see if this will be a manifestation of him as he is on the ice (#ExpressiveMarkStone my beloved) or how he is off the ice (ah geez, ah shucks, ah man-). however. either way i feel like he's going to give it his all, and my mental image of this which is probably incorrect has them on little platforms in the water itself which is a recipe for disaster if you either 1. freak out and celly too hard, or 2. get too caught up in doing a good job you forget where the fuck you are. verdict: zest for life

#nhl all star game #gav gab

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praisehoes-and-runovervirgins · 3 years

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Chapter 3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

---

You hold the last box of your belongings close to your chest and take a deep breath nervously pressing the button to your new home. Wow, that sounds weird. Sharing a home with the Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight. Your chest tightens. “God, I better not fuck this up” you mumble to yourself as the pent house suite door opens. Noah stands in clear view of the door as it opens. You walk into the apartment. “Y/N'' he yells at the top of his voice. “Where were you? I didn’t see you. I was worried, '' he said all in one breath. He wraps his arms around your leg and takes a deep inhale.

You look at him confused and put the box down. You have to tear him off you so you can kneel down to give him your daily bear hug. As you do, you notice his teary puffy eyes. You look at him puzzled then suddenly, almost like something in you woke up you panic, “Are you okay baby?” you grab him by the arm and turn him around manically looking for a source of pain. He doesn’t answer. You grab his leg and pull his PJ's up to continue looking for some sort of bruise, anything physical that would explain him crying. “He was crying cause he didn’t see you” a voice said walking past you and Noah. You look up at Liam grabbing a piece of fruit from the counter. His face looked disinterested. “He woke up and he didn't see you, he thought you left,” he said, rubbing the apple on his shirt. You lock eyes for a moment as you try to read into his expression. Fuck, he’s just like his dad, so hard to make out what he’s thinking. The sniffles coming from Noah make you break your eye contact. You look at him with wide eyes. “It’s okay Y/N. I’m okay. Please don’t cry. I just thought..” he jumps on you again, this time throwing you both onto the floor. “I’m not leaving Noah” you say, squeezing him tight. You didn’t even notice when your eyes were wet before Noah pushed back on you. He wipes the tears out your eyes. You smile at him softly. A few moments with Noah went on about how he’s so excited about your room and how it’s really close to theirs. Where’s Bakugou? You look around distracted as Noah goes on. “He’s upstairs” Liam says walking towards you with a napkin. He hands it to you and turns on his heel as he takes another bite of his apple. You sit there stunned, holding the soft piece of tissue in your hand. “Did you hear what I said?” Liam says, grabbing your face with both hands and then smashing his face into your neck. “Let’s go find your dad, yeah?” you say as you start to pick Noah up.

Bakugou is on the floor, legs crossed as he’s holding a piece of your unmade bed frame. He has his phone pressed against his ear and shoulder. “I already told you I don’t want to go on another date with her” he growled into the phone. “Well, that’s not my problem. I don’t care what the public thinks about us.” he says a little louder. “Daddy!” Noah says running, throwing himself on his back. “Hey buddy” Bakugou says, ending the call in one swipe of his finger and tossing it on his lap. “What were you talking about?” he says, gripping Bakugou's neck a bit too hard. “You're trying to kill me buddy” Bakugou says, letting out a quick laugh as he releases Noah's hands off his neck. They sit there laughing for a little. I love seeing them like this. It’s so different from how the rest of the world sees him. Bakugou looks at you leaning on the door and cracks a smirk. “Are you gonna come into your new room or what?” he says, turning around to face Noah again. You feel like the wind was knocked out of you when he looks at you even for a second. I’m going to have to live with this man. You got this y/n? You steady yourself and walk over to them. You kneel down on the floor next to Bakugou, “Do you need help? I am pretty helpful with these types of things” you say taking the piece of wood off the floor. “For starters, this was supposed to go in that thing” you say giggling. “Ah fuck” he says rolling his eyes. “HEY, WATCH YOUR MOUTH” Noah scolds him. You all break out in laughter. You spend the rest of the morning setting up your new bed set. You told bakugou that you could just use the one you had in your old apartment but he insisted on getting you a new one. You can appreciate all the things he does for you, since you’ve almost moved in he’s gotten you the best of the best; everything from fancy towels to new hair products for your hair type.

“We’re off to the park” Noah screams at the top of his lungs towards your bedroom at Bakugou. He wouldn’t be louder if he tried. But then again, look who’s his dad. He usually doesn’t raise his voice around me but when he does, oh boy is that grown man loud. The walk to the near park was one of the best, Liam actually was talking to you about his classmates and how one of them has been giving him problems. You try to come up with a plan of how to deal with it. “If I tell dad, he’s going to make a big deal about it. I already get enough attention as it is.” he explains when you asked why you haven’t told Bakugou. “Well, I’m happy to hear you out. I’m not as hot headed as your dad” you laugh. He cracks a smile as you put an arm around him as you’re walking. After a few moments Noah bust between you both and yells, “are you guys done talking? I want a hug too” he says scrunching up his nose. You hug both of them. Noah pulls you close, puts his hand on the side of his mouth and whispers, “without him please”. This child is going to be the death of me. You pick him up and swing him into your arms. “You’ll have to let me go, we’re here guys” you say as you put him down. They both run off in different directions. You sit there on a bench taking in the warm sun. I can honestly do this everyday. This feels like.. You’re stopped mid thought when your phone starts to vibrate. Oh, the alarm I set for earlier. Well might as well check social media. I haven’t had much time since moving. The first thing you look at is twitter, you follow a few of your friends and some popular celebs.

“Did you hear about Dynamite and his new girlfriend?” you overhear two women say as they walk past you and take a seat on the next bench. What? “Oh my god. They look so good together. I would die to trade places with her”. You sit still for a moment trying to gather your emotions. Who is she? Why didn’t he tell me he was dating someone? I thought. I-I don’t.. You grab your phone quickly, opening it and going to twitter again. You search up, “Dynamite and” and there it is. You stare at your phone for a bit. There she is, a beautiful tall slender blonde woman arm in arm with Bakugou. You sigh in disbelief pushing your back into the bench. Why does this hurt so much? Fuck. Why do I even fucking care? He’s not even.. “Hey, are you okay?” says a deep voice. You turn your head, noticing the very handsome man next to you. “Yeah” you say, taking another breath. “You don’t sound okay” he says looking deep in your eyes. His hair is black as night and his eyes are deep purple, you can honestly get lost trying to figure out how many different shades there are in them. “Yeah, I just got some news.. I wasn’t expecting it” you say shifting your eyes down and moving some hair out of your face. “I bet. Boyfriend?” He says as he watches your face carefully for a reaction. You let out a slight giggle before letting out a breath and bite your lip, “no”. The man and you sit in silence for a minute. Fucking hell. Why do I feel like shit right now? This hot guy is next to me and all I could think about is you wrapped around another woman. Fuck this.. You lay your eyes on the man again. He’s about Bakugou’s age with a very muscular build, he has a couple white stands in his hair, he’s beautiful. “Which one is yours?” you scooch over towards him. “The little one over there” he points at the kid playing with Noah. He stretches his arm to rub the back of his head, you can clearly see him clearly stretching his muscles. You almost laugh out loud. Trying a little too hard buddy. You both make conversation for a while. It doesn’t take long before He’s asking you on a date, you accept of course. Maybe seeing someone else for a couple hours will help me get over this.. whatever this feeling is. After a few more minutes Noah comes over to you all sweaty trying to hug you. “Let's go home” you say with a smile. I feel like shit but I can’t even show it. This kid can read me like a fucking book. Okay, put on a smile y/n.

A few days have passed since you saw the pictures of Bakugou and his “girlfriend’. When you came home that day, you couldn’t even look at him. Why the fuck am I acting like he betrayed me or something. I’m just the nanny. Get a fucking grip y/n. Still, you tried to avoid him as much as possible. When he walked into the room, you would walk out, you ate dinner in your room unless Noah asked you to stay with him and you tried everything in your power not to look at him in his eyes. You were butt fucking hurt to say the least. After a few days you get the courage to talk to him. You take a deep breath before knocking on his office door. “Come in,” he says lazily. He’s sitting in his chair facing his computer typing away. He stops and cocks his head over his shoulder to look at you. You can do this. You need to do this. “Do you need anything?” he says, turning his head back at the computer with his hands still on the keyboard. “I-I I won’t be home Friday night. I don’t know what time I’ll be back” you say almost in a whisper. “Oh” you’ve caught his attention now. He turns off the monitor and swirls in his chair to face you. Fuck fuck fuck fuck “I checked your schedule and I saw you work till about 3. That gives me time to..” you say waving your hand around like a child explaining something. “Yeah, that’s fine” he says, eyeing you up and down. You look nervous, like you have something you’re hiding. “Cool” you say, taking a deep breath as you turn on your heel about to make a run for it. “A date?” he says in a low deep almost bitter tone. I was so close. I WAS SO FUCKING CLOSEEEE “Yeah.” you say turning back around to face his him. “With that guy in the park?” He says looking you up and down almost like he’s looking for a reaction. “Yeah, How did you..” you look at him confused. “When you guys came home Noah told me that you were upset about something while you were in the park and this guy started talking to you,” he said, crossing his arms. Why do I feel like I’m getting fucking scolded. “Yeah, I was pretty upset about something" you look away from him. How can I say: Hey, I was upset that you're dating a blonde supermodel because… well, I don’t know. Also, please sign my check sir without sounding like a total psycho. You quickly snap out of that thought as he stands up and slowly walks over to you. You’re still staring at the floor as he stands in front of you. “Is that why you haven’t said a word to me for days?” he says in a low tone, still arms crossed but this time biting his top lip looking for your eyes. You slowly look up at him. He’s so big and muscular next to you. He’s also wearing your favorite outfit. Those sweats and tank top combo will be the death of me. Your eyes finally meet his. In this moment you’re lost in his eyes, the intensity that’s usually there isn’t. You can’t quite put a finger on what he’s thinking or this unknown expression plastered on his face. It feels foreign but nevertheless it knocks the wind out of you. You feel your heart rate increase. “No” you say after some time staring into his eyes. I don’t believe her. “Okay” he says with a sigh. “Okay” you say back to him looking away. Tears start to form in your eyes as you walk away from the office. You take a moment to catch your breath in the hallway and turn back towards his office. Your body almost moves on it’s own. Maybe I should cancel. I don’t even- I don’t want anyone- Before you can knock on his door again you get a twitter alert. “Bakugou and girlfriend were spotted kissing in the park two days ago” it read. The pictures in the tweet were bad, you can barely even tell if they were kissing or not but It still made your chest ache. Bakugou opened the door to see you squinting at your phone trying to zoom into the picture. “Change your mind?” he said leaning on the door frame. You jump up and step back, you didn't notice how close you guys were. “No.” you say looking him dead in the eye. “Why would I? I am so excited” you say with a broken smile.

Bakugou and you don’t speak for the rest of the day. You are both noticeable in a bad mood.. “What’s wrong with daddy?” Noah says to Liam as Bakugou stomps around the house while you’re hiding in your room. “He’s jealous,” Liam says looking at Noah. “I have a plan, wanna help?” he says, smiling at Noah. Noah gives him the same devilish smile back.

Taglist: @lil-miminini @bqkuho3 @xoxo-teddybear @candybabey @butterflyhallucations @sizzlingdonutturtlemuffin @hay-leeeah @speedmetalqueen @yourfavoriteblackfemweeb @bakucumsackslut @shipchild @nanamithecute

I'm so sorry it took so long but If anyone else wants to me on the tag list for the next one lmk :)

#mha bakugou #bmha bakugou #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou angst #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #dilf bakugou #daddy bakugou

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poedamneron01 · 3 years

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INJURY PRONE

Kenny Omega x f!reader

summary: reader is in the main event of Dynamite against her good friend Britt, gets seriously injured during it, though they finish the match. Kenny is there waiting, worriedly, along the the rest of The Elite.

Fluff and worried Kenny.

Warnings: mentions of injury, some violence (wrestling) and swearing.

A/N: I apologise for how bad this is folks, but please enjoy it!!

Kenny Masterlist

It was time for your big main event match with your best friend, Britt Baker, but enemies in your storyline for the last six months. You stood at the gorilla, stretching and warming up your muscles to prepare yourself for the next thirty minutes of pain and exciting moves. “Alright, so Y/N you are taking the win tonight.” Cody stated as he stood up and walked over to stand in front of you and Britt “Good luck out there, you both deserve this more than anyone.” He smiled his famous Cody Rhodes smile, and you looked over at Britt “Lets fucking kill this shit.” She grinned and pulled you in for a tight hug “Alright!” Cody cheered and clapped his hands together, before he returned to his seat and slipped on his headset. From behind you and Britt, loud voices echoed down the hall causing us to turn around and spot The Elite, being lead by Kenny towards you and Britt. Adam walked over from behind Kenny and greeted his wife, giving her a kiss good luck, while Kenny walked over, being flanked by Matt and Nick, and stood in front of you “We know you don’t need it Y/N,” Matt paused as Brandon made himself visible while holding up the vlog camera, filming for BTE, “But good luck and fucking kill it out there for us.” Nick grinned and you chuckled “Boys, I don’t need your good luck, I’ll be coming home with that title.” You played along as your music began playing “I’m tired of doing this to the women!” You yelled into the camera, and Brandon stopped recording “Good luck, I’m proud of you.” Kenny took hold of your hand and leaned down, pecking your lips quickly. You sent him a wink “Love you.” You told him and he grinned, his curls bobbing ontop of his head “I love you too.” You turned away from him and began making your way out too the ring for your match.

***

The match had been incredible thus far, the crowd was completely loving it and everything had been going right “Toss me into the steel steps.” You muttered to Britt on the mat where you lay after she power bombed you. Britt stood up and pushed you out of the ring, she took hold of your hand and whipped you towards the steel steps fast and hard. You hit the steps with an awfully loud bang, but managed to hit them at an awkward angle. “Fuck!” You yelped in pain as your ribs came into direct contact with the edge, and your hand flew up to hold them.

“Shit.” Kenny mumbled as he, Nick, Matt, Brandon and Adam stood backstage watching the match on the tiny monitors. “Man, if this isn’t one of the best women’s matches I’ve seen, then I don’t know what is.” Brandon commented and Kenny ignored him as he noticed your pained expression while holding your ribs. “She’s busted her ribs.” Kenny ran a hand through his curls and Nick grimaced “I never wish broken ribs on anyone.” Matt clapped Kenny’s shoulders as Adam watched on proudly “She will be fine, if she has wrestled you, she can handle it you big baby.”

The crowd began roaring as Britt pulled out some tables and a black bag, placing them in the ring, before coming over and tossing you back into the ring. The pain at your ribs increased with every move you made, your face was contorted with pain every time you breathed, and you automatically knew you had broken your ribs. Britt began setting up the tables in the corner and holding up the black bag with a sadistic grin “You are done Y/N.” She screamed down at you as you slowly got back up to your feet, watching as she poured the contents out of the bag onto the ring. You internally groaned as you seen the hundreds of thumbtacks all over the ring. Britt turned around, and you hit her with a superkick, stunning her, before you pulled her over towards the table perched in the corner. You ran to the opposite corner, before running back at Britt, going to spear her through the table, but she moved and you went crashing through the table head first. You brought your arms up and cradled your neck as the crowd booed louder as Britt sauntered around the ring, she then walked over and picked you up, pulling you up and Irish whipping you into the ropes. Britt ran at you and attempted a clothesline, but you dodged it, running to the opposite ropes and bouncing off, hitting her with a deadly V-trigger that echoed and you knew Kenny would be proud. You hit her with a couple more, before dragging her towards the thumbtacks and hitting her with your finisher. You both cried out in pain as the tiny tacks pierced your skin, and you pinned her “1…2…3!” The bell rung and your theme hit as the match was finally finished, you were finally champion. The ref handed you your belt and lifted your arm up as the crowd cheered and chanted “Y/N! Y/N!” You grinned and quickly left the ring as Britt’s little minions ran down to attack you. You stumbled up the ramp and held the belt in front of the the camera “All Elite Baybay!” You mocked with a smirk, before stumbling backstage.

The pain at your ribs was even worse now, as expected, and tears swelled in your eyes as you stumbled down the stairs to see the entire locker room applauding you. “I need some help.” You rasped out, falling to your knees and holding your side in pain. “Get the docs here!” Cody called as the cheering subsided and a presence was felt beside you “Y/N, baby, is it your ribs?” You could tell immediately that it was Kenny, with his soothing and calm voice you let out a shaky breath “I’m pretty sure I’ve broken them, but the pain is just…” you trailed off and shook your head as the pain got even worse with every breath you took. Kenny gently took hold of your face in his larger hands, and you made eye contact “I’m proud of you, that match was fucking insane.” He smiled, which caused you to chuckle, though quickly grimace in pain “Shut up, it hurts to breath.” You sent him a playful smile as the doctors knelt beside you, where Kenny pressed a loving kiss onto the top of your head. The docs helped you up off the floor, and you held on for dear life “Are you having trouble breathing?” The doctor asked and you nodded as they walked you carefully towards the medical rooms and sat you on a bed. “I have pain in my chest too.” Kenny stood beside the bed, biting his nails anxiously as the doctors checked on your ribs and a pained expression settled onto your face. “We’re going to call an ambulance for you and get some scans done, it does seem like you have a punctured lung.” You looked up at Kenny with a half smirk “I totally botched that hit into the steps.” You chuckled, but immediately regretted it with the searing pain, Kenny rolled his eyes with a smile “Shut up, the match was amazing, you did great.” He leaned down and pecked your lips, conscious of the PDA. You smiled “I love you, thank you for believing in me Ken.” He smiled “Anything for you babe.” You reached up and pulled him in for a hug, breathing in his cologne as pain free as possible “You are amazing Y/N.” He muttered just loud enough for you to hear and your cheeks reddened out of embarrassment “By the way the V-trigger was hot as hell.” You grinned as he pecked your jawline a few times “Yeah?” You smirked as he pulled away so you both were so close to one another. But your moment was interrupted by the door getting slammed open “Y/N!!!” Matt yelled with a grin and open arms “Too sweet baabyyyy!” You exclaimed, though again, grimaced in pain causing the guys to all laugh “What did the doc say?” Nick asked sitting at your feet “Possibly a punctured lung.” Nick groaned and squirmed in pain “How aren’t you in more pain?” Brandon asked in surprise “I’m in a lot of fucking pain.” You grinned and the guys all laughed. You felt Kenny run his hand over your messy hair softly, causing you to look up at him with hooded eyes.

You were one lucky girl.

#aew wrestling #aew all out #aew #aew dynamite #kenny omega x reader #kenny omega imagines #kenny omega #the elite #being the elite #britt baker #adam cole #the young bucks #masterlist

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bakudekushimasimp · 3 years

Text

Warnings: 18+, NO MINORS, vaginal sex, shower play, dom!Katsuki,

Summary: Katsuki walks in while your in the shower, you don’t even notice as you have music playing. He’s in shock at not only how amazing your body is but the way you sway your hips and dip low as if no one can see you but he in fact can see you, ALL of you.

You’ve been living with your classmate and fellow hero ever since you graduated from UA, katsuki bakugou. It’s usually always a good time except when you’re in one of your bratty moods and he’s just.. him. Over the last few years even before graduation you noticed new feelings you had for him, but never acted on them as he never seemed to show interest in being more than friends. You both were always so busy with missions anyways. Last night being one of those nights, and both of you getting back extremely late. So the next morning when you woke up you were barely awake starting your morning routine. You trudged into the kitchen past katsuki who had passed out on the couch. One arm slung over the arm of the couch, other resting on his perfect abs. You slowed down taking in the pleasant sight only to shake your head, knowing all the nasty thoughts going through your head would only remain a daydream. You walk into your kitchen getting a pitcher of water and filling your Keurig up before placing a cup in the holder and pushing it down. You get on your tip toes reaching for a mug out of the cabinet; your over sized shirt lifting to show off your snug boy shorts that don’t cover all of your caramel skinned bottom. You thought you heard rustling so you quickly peek over your shoulder at the couch which your roommate was sleeping on, just to see he shifted onto his stomach and now had his face down into the cushions turned at a slight angle. You sigh and relax onto the pads of your feet and place the ‘Dynamite’ branded cup into place on the Keurig. You press the start button and slide yourself onto the island of the kitchen while watching the delicious liquid fill into your mug. You swing your feet back and forth and think of last night and how drained katsuki seemed coming home from his mission. You decided you’d help him in starting him a cup of coffee after yours before heading for a shower. You hear the last bit of your coffee draining from the Keurig and you ease yourself down from the island and grab the mug carefully. After adding your creamer and sugar, you slowly stir the coffee and take a sip. The burn was a mix of pain and pleasure on your tongue and had a delicious burn all the way down your throat. You hum as you feel yourself begin to wake up more feeling last nights stress and exhaustion slowly melt away. You lean your elbows on the island and sip from your mug while peeking at your roommate who was cuddled up to a throw pillow that usually rest on the couch as decoration. You loved seeing him so peaceful and calm. Part of you yearned to be the pillow tucked snuggly to his lower abdomen, you thought of how warm and comforting it would be to wrapped in his strong arms. Your cheeks flushed red as your mind wondered to how it would also feel to have his morning glory pressed to your needy core. You sucked in a quick breath through your teeth, and decided it was definitely time for a cold shower as you felt the thoughts create a tightness in your stomach and made your thighs clench together. You place your now empty mug into the sink, and quickly set up the cup of coffee you had decided to make for katsuki. You are careful with your footsteps as you wonder to the bathroom grabbing a towel from the little closet across the hall before you waking in and closing the door behind you. You didn’t feel a need to lock the door because you both had become comfortable sharing a bathroom and apartment for so long you didn’t find it necessary. You hang your towel on the rack and take out your phone. You connect to the blue tooth speakers that were built into the walls in the shower. You start playing music loud enough for you to hear, but not loud enough to wake up katsuki. You strip away from your clothes dropping them to the floor in a pile, you’d pick them up after showering and put them in the hamper. Let your curls down from the messy bun you had thrown up before retreating to bed the night before, admiring how your hair has grown long and beautifully down to the curves of your hips and right at the dips on your back

above your bum. You turn the hot water on waiting for it to get to the right temperature before turning the cold to moderate it to a decent feel. You step into your open floor designed shower with clear shower doors. The water feels amazing washing away all the sweat and the rest of your fatigue from last nights events of chasing after villains. You drench yourself in the water before starting to wash yourself with the coconut smelling body wash katsuki had picked up for you the other day. One of your favorite songs filter through the speakers, and you can’t help but start to sway your hips silently singing along.

By this time katsuki had rolled off the couch having some crazy dream of fighting villains, and shocked himself awake. He jumped up hand out with small bursts sparking at his palm as he quickly looked around and scoped out the apartment. He slowly relaxed as he noticed no one was in the apartment and there was indeed no villains around. He’s face tinted pink as embarrassment flooded him. He then peeked around again making sure you didn’t see him while stretching his arms behind his head to play off his ridiculous reaction from a few moments ago. As he took a deep breath in while stretching he caught a whiff of the coffee you had put on for him earlier. He followed the smell in a daze to the kitchen and found his black mug with “number 1” in burnt orange letters across the side. He grabbed the cup carelessly and spilt some onto his sweatpants. He hissed and put the cup back onto the counter slightly irritated he couldn’t get his shit together this morning. He started mumbling to himself frustrated it now looked like he had pissed himself, or even better had a wet wild dream. He ran his hand over his blonde hair and down his face. He picked up the coffee and finished what was left in a few single gulps, and decided he’d thank you for the coffee and change out of his sweatpants afterwards. Knowing you both were still semi exhausted from last night he didn’t want to have an angry aggressive attitude because his start of the day, especially towards you. He put the mug in the sink noticing the mug you had chosen for your morning coffee. He smirked to himself. He loved when you used something of his or with his label on it. Anything involving him. It gave him a sense of pride. Katsuki was very possessive over you ever since you had became friends when you showed up to UA in second year. Just never in front of you directly. Only to the boys who ever dared say something about you to him behind your back. Especially the other boys in Bakusquad or even worse whenever Deku decided to make his sly comments about how he’d take you from katsuki and make you his. Make you a villain. It made his blood boil. He wanted to tell you how he felt so he could claim you as his for everyone to know who you belonged to. You were Dynamight’s girl. He loved the sound of that it gave him goosebumps and made his cock stir. He couldn’t resist you especially when you acted bratty towards him and never let his attitude phase you, or whenever you got dressed up to go to the club and wore his colors, or in the early mornings how you’d walk around in barely anything.. Katsuki groaned to himself and grabbed his half erection through his sweatpants and quickly remembered they were drenched in coffee. He snapped out of his thoughts and started to walk to your room to thank you for the coffee, but before he could reach your door he heard soft singing and music thumping from the bathroom. He stopped and back tracked to the bathroom door. He looked at the doorknob and noticed the steam coming from underneath the crack of the door. He slightly shrugged and twisted the handle to let himself in. As soon as he enter the foggy room he silently closed the door hoping to not alarm you. The smell of coconut flooded his senses and his hard on was growing fast as he thought of you using the body wash he chose specifically for you. He finally brought himself to look up at the shower doors and immediately stopped frozen in place. His breath hitched and he swallowed hard his Adam’s apple slowly bobbing. There you were twisting your body like a gypsy. Turning and rolling your hips slowly dipping down, you sensually danced to the music that steamed throughout the bathroom. His eyes dragged over your blurry body as the shower doors were not so clear to allow him to see all details of your body. He was basically drooling at the sight. His cock had instantly grown to full length straining against his damp sweatpants making his print more noticeable to see. You run your hands over your body from your chest to your thighs and back over your backside. He has to do something he

can’t stand it anymore he wanted those to be his rough calloused hands running over your silk caramel skin. He pulls his sweatpants off in almost one swift movement, boxers right with them. His manhood springing out and slapping his abs as he does so. He bites his lower lip and slowly steps towards the shower, he very quietly slides the door open and steps in.

You feel a quick feeling of cold air as your rinsing the conditioner out of your hair and body wash off your body. You get the feeling someone is watching you and you stop dancing. You’ve watched too many scary movies to not know this feeling. You open your eyes but to your surprise your roommate, the drop dead sexy Katsuki stands in front of you. You stare into his red eyes that are glazed in lust as he finally speaks up and says, “May I join you?” You’re speechless as you think maybe this is just another wild daydream. His eyes trail down your body following the few remaining soap duds as the flow off your skin to the shower floor. Your cheeks turn a bright shade of red as you then clutch over your breast and cup a hand over your hairless sex. He chuckles lowly and slowly reaches out to grab your arms and pull them away. His chuckle sends vibrations straight to your core as he says, “I just wanted to thank you for the cup of coffee but after seeing the way you can move I couldn’t resist.” He pulls your arms away from your body and you hesitate in letting him but them start to drop them away from you as you’re more confident in your body than what you used to be. He runs his hand down your arm to your hand and brings it to his chest. You let out a shaky breath and start to stutter out, “k-k-Katsuki, is this, real?” A huge grin spreads across his face and he takes your other hand away from your sex and brings it to his. Your eyes snap down to where your hand lays looking at the massive cock that your hand now rest on. He lets another a low growl type groan and steps closer leaning to your ear and whispers, “THIS is real. All of this is real, and it’s about time.” Your nipples harden and you drag your eyes away from the too good to be true masterpiece and look into his red orbs. He now looks you in your face and leans his forehead to yours, “I’ve wanted you for so long and I’ve waited until I could take you and call you mine. You’re body is so perfect, you are so perfect. I can’t hold it in anymore. I want to fuck your tight little pussy and mark you as mine. Make you forget about any other man on this whole planet.” You clench at the words he says and your breathing has now turned into shallow breaths. You run your opposite hand down his chest feelings every dip of his abs and you start to shift your other hand grasping his dick. He sucks in a breath and closes his eyes you step into your tip toes and are so close to his lips you can feel his breath fanning your face. What leaves your mouth next takes him by total surprise. “Take me.”

Your lips clash together in a rough much needed kiss. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip asking for entrance as you open and let him in. Both of you twisting your tongues around in a swirl of mixed saliva as his hands reach around and take a firm grasp of your cheeks he got a perfect peek of while you reached for your mug earlier that morning. You moan into his mouth as he pushed you against the shower wall pushing his chest against your as your breast smashes into him. He leaves your mouth to trail kisses down your jaw and your neck until he finds your sweet spot. You start pumping at his erect cock as his finger swipes at your already soaked sex. He sucks and nibbles at the sweet spot on your neck creating a bruise as your sweet moans now fill the bathroom. He pulls away with a pop to give you a devious smirk and says “you’re already so wet for me huh you little slut” his words send goosebumps all over your body. He kneels down to the shower floor pulling his twitching manhood from your grip precum dripping from his red fiery head. He takes a nipple into his mouth as he twist the other with his opposite hand between his pointer finger and his thumb harshly pulling as he gently bites in the other. He leaves your nipples to leave a trace of bruises along your breast to show he and only him has been there. Has seen and tasted your caramel mounds. Your twisting your hips in a similar way as to when you were dancing but now in an urgency to have your needs met by this tease in front of you. As if he can read your mind he brings a hand up to rub the clit in a circular fast motion as he takes your nipple back into his mouth sucking hard and letting it pop out of his mouth. The lewd sound makes you whimper and he looks up at you through dangerous dark eyes “tell me what you want” you whimper as he starts to slow with your clit though you can feel your release building. You look down at him as he tweaks your nipple instead of sucking pulling and twisting. “I want you katsuki” “what do you want from me” “I want you to fuck me katsuki” he stands up abruptly and twist you around all in one quick second. He runs his long thick cock between your wet ass cheeks watching as the water continues to hit your back. You push into him arching your back hoping he’d finally give you what you needed desperately instead he pulls his cock away beginning to fist himself. You were about to look over your should as you feel a harsh slap land to your bottom. You let out a squeak as it took you by complete surprise. “You like that” you nod your head yes vigorously. Then another harsh slap this one hard than the last, “I said do you like that” you shake your head yes furiously as you barely can raise your voice high enough “y-y-yes katsuki please more” he rubs his hand over your now pink-red cheeks and dips his finger into your slick. You moan out as he sinks his single digit into your welcoming warm hole. “Your so tight” he groans and he grows impatient as he slides another finger in. He wraps his other hand around your chest caging your breast in with his forearm. He’s ready to sink into you but knows he has to give you time to adjust or he’ll split you open. He continues to pump his two fingers in and out of your slick as clench around him. Your shallow quick breaths let him know you’re close to your release. Just as he feels you about to cum he pulls his fingers out. Tears burning at the sides of your eyes you let your head drop and look at the shower floor where water, your slick and his precum mix. You let out a small growl and say “stop teasing me bakugou” he then releases his hold from around you and moves behind you pushing your chest to the shower wall. He wraps his hand around your curls and pulls hard pulling your face up so he can look at you. You look up into his red vermillion eyes as he peers down at you with somewhat of a scold. “I’ll guess I’ll have to fuck that bratty attitude out of you.” You don’t have time to respond before he’s shoving his length into you. You gasp and his hand leaves your hip where he was holding you to

put himself in and now wraps it around your throat his other hand never leaving the vice grip on your hair. The tears are now streaming down the sides of your face as you feel him stretching you open. He smirks, “that’s only have teddy bear.” He then shoves the remaining half in bottoming out in your sweet pussy. You open your mouth in a silent moan and your tongue hangs out as your eyes roll back. Katsuki loves seeing you like this, falling apart on his dick he already feels like filling you up with his seed. He slowly starts to pull out knowing he won’t last long. He rams back into you and continues the same movements. You’re moans are now louder than the music you have streaming. Your mouth still hanging open he then spits into it and you swallow not having any other choice. The action only makes you wetter as you gush around him. Katsuki let’s go of your curls to bring his hand down to start circling your clit bringing you back to your high from earlier. He moves his hand from your throat and drags it down your spine to the dip in your back and presses down making you arch further. He slaps your ass hard leaving a hand print. “Who’s pussy is this”

“Y-y-yours Katsuki.”

“Who’s little slut are you”

“Y-y-yours katsuki”

“Dynamight, call me dynamight”

You clench around him your orgasm rising quickly as he plays with your clit more agressive. He shuts his eyes tightly as his thrusts are turning sloppy. Your tightness is bringing him close and very fast. He runs his thumb down your crack and slowly pushes it to your ass as your both reaching your high. You let out a moan as he pushes his thumb into you. The pleasure of him rubbing your clit and filling both your holes sends you over the edge. “Dynamight!!” You scream as you cum so hard you feel like you might pass out. You cover him in your juices. Katsuki couldn’t hold on anymore as you squirted all over him and your legs start to shake. He couldn’t choose to paint you like a masterpiece or fill you with his seed but at this point it’s too late. He puts both hands on your hips and slams into you with his last remaining thrusts as you scream his hero name. He hits your cervix and paints your walls with his release. You both slump together.

He slowly pulls out of you and watches his cum drip out onto the shower floor. He runs a hand through his wet blonde mess of his hair and lets out a deep breath. You’re still trying to recuperate from everything that just happened your mind spinning. Katsuki seems concerned, you haven’t moved from the same spot. He hooks a finger underneath your chin and brings you to look at him. Him in all his glory. He smiles at you. “So will you be Dynamight’s girl?”

#bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou #bakugou x y/n #bnha bakugou #mha smut #mha #katsuki smut #bakugou x reader #kacchan #bakugou smut #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha smut #dynamight #bnha katsuki x reader #katsuki

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