tldr: i'm leaving this blog and writing altogether
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that's a sentence and a half isn't it 🧍♂️
but yes, i don't wanna beat around the bush for long, so i'll just say a few things and then archive my stuff
i still remember when i first started this blog. after reading tons of works from extraordinary authors i decided to give myself a shot at sharing my own writing. it's safe to say i was scared, would anyone ever read my stuff anyway? was it even worth it?
every single person who has ever read, liked, reblogged, or even talked to me through this platform really made the difference. i will forever cherish every friendship and experience this side blog has given me.
but,, that has changed. after being diagnosed, going through month after month of ups and downs, i've come to the conclusion i need time. not only to come to terms for once with my content and motivation, but also to find what really inspires me to get out of bed and write.
a lack of engagement and exposure will do that to ya 🤙
i will not come back to this blog - if i ever do find the drive to share my writing it'll be under a different blog. if that ever happens, i sincerely hope to meet some of you again!
(moots/oomfs feel free to send me a message for my discord #)
☆ﾐ 900+ / suggestive themes & swearing / written by guava, july 2020.
your ex keeps intruding in your nights and the cycle is irksome.
dustier than the sentiments overflowing your mattress, the small window you relied on for lighting failed miserably to get the job done. nearly no moonlight seeped through the glass during the one night you had cared enough to realize there was a full moon.
no light as you bathed in stygian waters.
a dim brightness shined on 𝗕𝗔𝗞𝗨𝗚𝗢's face—courtesy of his phone—next to your own body under the sheets. embarrassment over your current predicament was pointless, you had been in this same scenario countless times.
disheveled sheets, a subtle ache running from your thighs to your heart, and an overgrown garden of clothes budding on the floor were not unusual.
it was hard to nurture your own plants after pulling weeds from undergarments; plants in the wrong place, love in the wrong place.
“quit staring.”
unsurprisingly, bakugo’s hoarse voice was the one to snap the thread of peace in the atmosphere. although peace was an overstatement, tension seemed more fitting, it was still scoff-worthy.
hugging the pitying covers closer to your bare figure, not once did your gaze abandon his position. “my house, my rules.”
“this isn’t even a fucking house, stinks like prime college hobo in this pathetic one-room egg.”
bakugo always made it his goal to drive you mad; you looked cuter when annoyed, as he once put it into words. nevertheless, the scorn in his tone was hard to miss. “best i could do on short notice, not even half of my stuff is here.”
“i might as well sell the rest on ebay, maybe then something about this could actually be fucking profitable,” his free hand motioned from your side of the bed to his, emphasizing the never-ending arrangement happening.
he always knew how to twist words to get you riled up.
without a single care for the phone in his calloused hand or your crumbling mental stability, you threw one leg over his stupid, tiny waist, quickly stradling bakugo like a magnet would—attracting each other. inevitably, the phone bounced off the mattress and to the ground, and for a split second you worried over the overpriced device. then you remembered it was bakugo’s.
was that really important while the man under you rapidly lost the single drop of chill he had?
“i was using that, shithead.”
“and i was having a good night until you knocked on my door - life’s unfair isn’t it?”
instead of giving in to his anger, bakugo allowed himself to bask in the sight. from bruises to marks his teeth left on every inch of skin they could reach, which was admittedly a lot, a mundane feeling washed over his pride. throbbing blemishes complimented your nude self in the best, worst way. it wasn’t a product of love, it was a derivative of the lack of.
his narrowed eyes drank your body—from curve to stretch mark, to birthmark and scratches—like fine wine.
“quit staring.”
and just like that, all his self-restraint went down the drain; wine pouring down the sink carelessly.
with a rough yank, grabbing onto any limb he could prey on, bakugo pulled you down to shut that damn mouth. he feasted on the snarkiness the words had left on your tongue, stealing and erasing the leverage you thought you had with teeth and growls.
not like you seemed to mind.
had you not broken the unsparing kiss, bakugo would’ve drowned in the odium your taste intoxicated him with—forgetting oxygen for the feeling of superiority.
“get dressed, i have plans tomorrow morning,” your thumb grazed against his bottom lip, eyes half-lidded and drained from watering the rose before you. thorns scarring your soul, ruby-red carving his name in your thoughts, arm in arm with layer upon layer of petals clouding your common sense.
after prying yourself away from his burning grip, bakugo complied with your demand, albeit rather annoyed. “what, you seeing someone tomorrow?” in spite of having his back facing you, his sweats covering him hastily, the undeniable smirk plastered on his face could be felt from a mile away.
you weren’t stupid, picking up on the hidden meaning behind his words was child’s play. bakugo knew getting over him was a bitch and a half, booty calls only adding on to the emotional baggage.
as if to give yourself a pat in the back for comfort, you thanked your dishonest lingo and experience—lying wasn’t hard after years of practice. “so what if i am, kacchan?”
suppressing a giggle, you indulged in his sudden flinch, clearly taking the certified prick off guard. short-lived, yet highlighting your entire night, your glee was cut short as he turned around, twitching eye landing on your face half-hidden against a pillow. “keep that pretty mouth of yours shut, or else i might have to keep you up ‘nother hour or two.”
you rolled your eyes, looking up from the comfort of the now caramel-scented pillow. “gross, leave before i call your mom.”
one middle finger later, bakugo bent down to retrieve his dropped phone, not even bothering to check whether it had survived the fall or not. even if he prided himself in not giving a shit half the time, the curiosity of just who would be replacing him prodded at his train of thought. the question died just to be reborn in his throat once again, never once escaping and meeting the shy moonlight waving through your window.
he underestimated your fed up self though, forgetting just how good you were at reading him. “if you couldn’t bother to tell me about your date last week then you shouldn’t be poking your nose in my business.”
tou-fucking-ché.
you glanced at the window as he left without another word, briefly considering giving your wobbly legs a shot to walk and open it for some fresh air.
withered flowers had an obnoxious smell—sweat, hot breaths, and genuine rancor swaying with the particles of dust revealed by the light of night.
your everything needed a good wash.
maybe you’d meet that gentle, green-haired neighbour of yours again once you took your sheets and clothes down to the laundromat.
black lives matter resources / masterlist / ko-fi / taglist.
for the event!! Can i get a uh sero x reader with edging? Or if you aren't comfortable with sero, bakugo? :) preferably the reader is doing the edging hehe 👉👈, but totally up to you!
a red light fic. n/s/f/w. themes of; polyamory, revenge sex (kinda), very very slight daddy kink, maaaaaaybe a little bit of cuckolding (if you want to read it that way.), degradation (mild) deepthroating, cum eating/swallowing, slight snowballing, bakusero, and edging. genitals remain ambiguous.
💥) (and bakugou’s always had a short fuse. however, you stopped caring to tiptoe around him in highschool when you realized he saved his bite for his enemies, not his friends.)
(well, for the most part anyway.)
the story of you, sero, and the provocation of one katsuki bakugou.
where the beginning is somewhere in the middle and you’re starting on your tummy. your legs wrapped around the waist of katsuki, standing close to the side of the bed. you’re crying, but no less eager, with hanta’s cock lodged down your throat. he’s just as teary-eyed and hot and jittery, sweat making his hair stick to his face. his hands are bound and behind his back. bakugou has a firm grip on your hips; from there he commandeers the scene, his dick stuck inside you, intense and unyielding, hips steadily rocking back and forth.
“keep sucking! i know you can fucking do better than that!” katuski’s calloused hand cracks down sharply on your ass, your muffled moan sending a delicious vibration along sero’s cock.
hanta yelps suddenly as the pleasure becomes a painful ache in his tightening balls. you suck sloppily, your head bobbing up and down with the sudden urgency of katsuki’s command and the desire to perform to his liking. it’s hard to stay focused when he fucks into you harder, his nails like claws as they sink into your plush sides, making bruises pretty like summer plums, all while katsuki forces you to stretch wider around his thick dick.
you’re moaning, and your legs are shaking so bad; the only thing keeping you from collapsing into a heap on the floor is bakugou’s solid body.
“c’mon!— fucking hell— keep choking on that cock— goddamn. you’re both a mess!” katsuki’s hand finds your hair, and before your sex-addled brain can process the motion, your nose brushes up against sero’s groin, forcing a whimper from both you and hanta.
“shit.” though bakugou has a considerably wider margin of control, his flushed flushed face is hard to miss, his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier. “— teach you both not to fuck with me. hah?” he slaps you again.
(and bakugou’s always had a remarkably short fuse. however, you stopped caring to tiptoe around him in highschool when you realized he saved his bite for his enemies, not his friends.)
(well, for the most part anyway.)
“yeah— fuck, yeah. keep squeezing around me. just—!” katsuki shakily exhales before he gets even rougher, angling his cock in a way that has your toes curling and your hands squeezing the duvet to alleviate the tingling pressure. sero lets out a strangled groan as your throat flutters and constricts tight around his cock, the weak push from his hips making you choke. the unflattering sounds of your coughing are briefly interrupted by a sob as he brushes up against the back of your throat.
suddenly, sero yelps.
“f-fuck.. i..i’m gonna—!” hanta shudders, and as quick as the words leave his mouth, katsuki’s snatching up your hair, your back forming a perfect arch.
“don’t you fucking dare cum, hanta.” sero’s face turns a darker shade of red, and he’s preening from the lack of stimulation, gasping as if the oxygen has been punched out of his lungs, thrusting up into the empty air as if it were your warm, wet mouth.
he all but wails, tears trailing down the fat of his cheeks, and his megawatt grin turning into a snotty, torn, whimpering frown, cooing katsuki’s name, begging for mercy.
“you haven’t earned that right.” spittle falls from your swollen lips, and you’re coughing from the uncomfortable angle, moans unimpeded as katsuki pile-drives his hips into your own.
“and don’t think i’ve forgotten about you either, slut. you haven’t earned jackshit either.” your face is then suddenly pushed into the mattress, positioned away from sero’s throbbing red cock.
“gonna come into my room and interrupt my fucking work, huh? spread your legs on my desk and expect no consequence? what a fucking joke,” he spits, your tears gathering on the soft sheets.
“should’a— fuck— should’ve known hanta put you up to it.” he casts a glance sero’s way, watching him squirm and writhe on the bed. “both of you bitches can’t stand being alone for more than an hour. must get tiring fucking each other all day, without a real man to show you your place.”
your heart is hammering in your chest, and your body feels weak and so, so tired, but you can’t find it in yourself to close your eyes yet.
just a little further, just a little more—
and just then, he rams into you with full force, cock tearing a scream from your sore throat, your toes curling, though none of that grounding pressure’s alleviated just yet.
fuck, it’s coming.
his nails dig into your hip fat again, and his grunts get dangerously low, so deep it sounds as if he’s snarling, the sound of sweat-slicked skin becomes constant, his dirty talk shelving itself for the time being.
sero has a hard time peeking at your face from this angle, but maybe it’s the dewy tears that’s making his vision all fuzzy. he’s painfully erect and flushed red; he watches the scene before him unfold as the head of his cock steadily leaking precum. bakugou looks downright barbaric, and your eyes are shot red from crying so much, his hand beginning to curl around your neck, milking more whines from your throat.
he wants to touch you too— make you squeal like bakugou can.
but he’s a mess who can’t even think of moving without his cock throbbing, whimpering about how he just wants to cum down your throat. katsuki looks unsurprisingly feral; staring sero down with a cruel glee in his eyes before his hips come stuttering to a full stop, leaving you gasping for air the moment you’re able.
“hanta, you slut.” he beckons him closer with a crook of his finger, his other hand still gripping your neck rather firmly.
“come here.”
you squirm in discomfort, but he applies a sharp, steady pressure that lets you know he’s not playing around.
you stay still as sero crawls forward on his knees, the weight in the bed shifting until he’s sitting beside you, his small sniffles and hiccups muffled from this angle.
then there’s a brief exchange that you don’t see, but you can hear sero’s gentle whines breaking off into eager, slutty moans as bakugou pulls him in for a kiss. you clench around katsuki’s cock while he busies himself with hanta, but you earn a smack for being too greedy.
“..c..cum.”
“what’s that, baby boy? say that louder for me?”
“cum. shit— just let me cum, katsu.” katsuki laughs snarkily, booming with underlying dominance that makes you shiver, and sero cry out in exasperation.
“you wanna cum, huh? you wanna fucking cum for daddy?” bakugo pulls his hips back quickly, and the sensation of feeling empty has you clenching down on nothing, looking for something to finish you off.
you whine indignantly, your fingers no longer having to curl into your bed sheets for stability.
“both of you— on the floor.” he strokes his cock as he steps away from the bed, watching you two kneel before him with blood-red eyes, fond, but brutal.
“suck me off, then i’ll let you both cum yourselves silly. how’s that sound?”
good enough, you suppose, with the way you’re quick to start fondling his balls, while sero suckles on his head. his hand finds the back of sero’s head- and then hanta’s deepthroating.
it only takes a few moments before katsuki’s cumming, with an uncharacteristically high pitched whine that you’re too horny to pick up on, but as soon as bakugou takes his cock out of sero’s mouth, you two are making out, tasting the remnants of salt and cum on his tongue and teeth and lips.
bakugou’s tugging himself back into his pants in the meantime, snorting at your desperation.
“god, you sluts are so fucking desperate. go ahead— cum then. i’m fucking done with you two. i have work to do.”
but your hands are already on sero again, and his hands crawl along the inside of your thighs, too far gone to notice your lack of an audience.
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This is a personal opinion but any writer worth their salt can string together a titillating reader insert without describing the reader AT ALL. More people need to get away from the y/n, h/c, e/c shit because they’re still focusing too much on the LOOKS rather than the FEELINGS. That’s why they continue to describe hair as being long or saying you “blushed bright red”. None of that is necessary to the story. Stop worrying so much about the outward and focus on emotions and feelings instead.
UGHHH IF I COULD FUCKING POST THIS A MILLION TIMES I /WOULD/.
There’s so so many body language resources at our disposal we can use to describe emotions and emotional responses other than physical! The goal of reader insert fics is to make it immersive, when we shine too much light on how the reader looks (especially on how we view the reader is supposed to look...), it takes away from the immersion tenfold.
And again!! I’m not saying I’m immune to this bc I definitely slip up and focus too much on appearances too. I’m more light skinned and I tend to flush kinda pink, so I tend to insert that in my writing. But I’m learning and reading about new ways to describe these things.
I think everyone should check out @/writingwithcolor!! Idc what ethnicity you are, this blog is full of genuine good resources to learn how to write better and not exclude your audience. (It’s also great for writing OCs who are POC too!)
snowghoul
amandla
ellievsbear
kianamaiart
prguitarman
romaincrisis
