Pairing: Kim “Horangi” Hong-Jin & König x fem!reader
Cw: smut, fingering, cunnilingus, cream pie, biting, marking, fluff, romantic/gentle sex?, Horangi being so gentle, Colonel König (he’s a warning by himself), tell me. If I missed any.
wc: 0.8k
Your back arched over the bed, toes curling with a high whine leaving your throat as you pushed his head away. Finger digging into Horangi’s black hair, pulling and pushing him from between your thighs. You squirmed and cried, body at the mercy of Horangi’s hunger, his tongue sloppily rolling your swollen clit and his fingers knuckle deep inside of your slick cunt.
“No more-!” You pleaded, tears falling from your lashes. “Please!”
His only response was to push a third finger in, curling them upwards, smirking smugly while he continuously hit your g-spot, bathing in your erotic mewls and toe-curling gasps. He hummed, his rough voice rumbling against your nub, the fat of his tongue lifting the hood to press your uncovered clit. You jolted, squealing in your dazed struggle to escape his torturous pleasure, thighs closing around his head and nails pulling the roots of his soft hair.
Your body tensed, your head thrown back with a drained-out moan, and the knot in your hot navel snapped. Horangi groaned, mouth leaving your clit to lap at your wet pussy, drinking up your slick from the source, thrusting his tongue inside of your warmth. When he pulled away, he stared at your gasping figure through his narrowed eyes, sucking his fingers one by one, giving you a show of how sexy and teasing the usually stoic and blunt Korean could be. You gave him a stuttered moan, sitting up with shaky limbs.
“You still have to stretch her for me, Horangi,” a deeper voice came from Horangi’s back, a warm palm cupping his nape and pushing him towards you. “Weitergehen.” [Go on]
Obeying König’s commanding tone, Horangi unbuckled his belt, sighing when his hard shaft bobbed once he lowered his briefs. Kneeling on the bed’s edge, he grasped your ankle and pulled, making you yelp. He slotted himself between your legs, grinding his leaking cock over your fold, slicking himself up. He whispered sweet nothings in your ear, pressing kisses onto the sweaty skin of your neck and shoulder as his tip poked at your slit, prodding gently before he pushed in.
Your hands gripped his forearms, breathing softly as he pushed inch after inch in until he bottomed out, his heavy balls slapping your ass as he snapped his hips. You curled into him with every thrust, hanging onto every sweetening word he mumbled to you. His loving pet names, his soft reassurance and his dirty compliments made you shake, the tips of your nerves burning with a blush that seemed louder than the beat of your erratic heart.
His hips stuttered when you wrapped your legs around his slim waist, bitting the smooth lobe of his ear, asking for more, the words mixed in the torrent of pleasure and ecstasy, drunk or high, you wanted him. He swore, muttering curses as his pace hastened, slamming into you. The loud squelch would’ve made you blush, flustered by how loud your coupling was if you weren’t so lost in your haze, hips bucking skyward and back curving, baring your throat to him. You raked your nails down his naked back and he groaned from both pain and pleasure.
“Come, Maus,” König’s familiar voice carried through your haze, his calming hand caressing the top of your head, fingers brushing your hair from your face while he urged you to your edge. “Meine süße Maus.”
Your body reacted to his command, it tensed and coiled, your limbs shook and your walls clamped around Horangi’s throbbing cock. He let out small moans, his pace growing sloppy with time, his hands gripped your hips tightly, pulling you towards him, your harder nipples flush against his chest. You cried out his name, first Horangi then König’s, you shuddered as you came, your high bringing an end to Horangi’s thrusting. He cursed, rutting against you, hitting deeply as his throbbing cock spurted rope after rope of warm cum. He trembled, teeth clamped down on the skin of your shoulder. Horangi ground into you, shallowly thrusting his cum deeper while he panted, complimenting you with honeyed words.
You shared a moment of calm and clarity, taking in each other while you slowly rode off your high. It was a comforting and loving silence as if only you mattered to him in this world. A calm bubble that seemed to exclude König, but he wasn’t bothered by it, in fact, he welcomed such small moments of mundane love and normalcy in their hectic lives as KorTac operators. The Austrian sat on your left, his hand soothing the chills on Horangi’s back, it went up his back to hold your hand, intertwining your fingers as he brought it to his veiled lips.
“You did well, Maus,” he kissed each of your knuckles, pulling his veil and balaclava up to bite the tips of your fingers, nipping you playfully. “Rest for now, then I’ll have you as I want.”
Exes who convince you to get back with them by fucking you until you’re cumming and making a mess on his cock. He’ll have you in a mating press just so he can get a perfect view of how your pussy clenches around him. He knows every spot to make you tremble. He’s cocky about it. It’s almost a cycle for him. You’ll storm out telling him how you’re done with his shit. You'll slam the door telling him you never want to see him again. Yet somehow you always end up in the same position, ankles resting on his shoulder taking his cock babbling about how you love him so much.
“Mmh, I love you so much baby” your words are a memorized pattern that you always find yourself drooling whenever you’re with him.
He chuckles, eyes never leaving the area where you two connect. The squelching sounds of your hole are almost as loud as your moans
“You love me baby?” he groans “ This pussy loves me too, listen to how she’s purring”
His thrusts are rough. You’re almost positive the neighbors are sick of the two of you. He’s in a trance. All he can think about is making you cum on his cock. The way your hole squeezes him only fuels him. He can’t help but admit how much he missed this. The way you call his name is like music to his ears. He hasn’t heard your pretty voice beg him to let you cum in so long. He’s savoring this moment. His hips meet your roughly grunting each time he bottoms out.
“Thought you said you were done with me” he knows he should be thankful he has you back but he’s so cocky he can’t help but tease you a little. You look away embarrassment flooding through you.
“Look at me baby” he growls “ Look at how much your pussy missed me” his eyes are trained on the way you suck him in.
“You missed this cock didn’t you?” He knows his words are getting to you. Your whimpers grow louder. All you can do is give in and admit your truth.
“Missed you so much baby” your voice is shaky. Your eyes meet his and he has a smirk on his face hearing your words. He places his hand on your stomach, feeling where his cock is.
"You feel that baby?" his eyes switch back and forth between the creamy mess your making on his cock and the bulge that shows where his cock presses inside of you.
He leans down to put his head into your neck to leave wet kisses. His hands wrap around you pulling you close. His groans fill your ears and for a moment you want to never hear anything other than that again.
“You’re mine” his words match his thrust You can feel yourself growing closer to your orgasm. "Say it" he growls. His thrust are sloppy. His mind floods with his claim over you. You want to speak, to give him an answer but you feel so fucked out of your mind all you can do and whimper and moan. He chuckles watching you practically go dumb from his cock.
“I guess i gotta fuck you until you remember who’s pussy this is”
Men who are lazy, and like to watch their girl bounce on top of him. Loves when you ride him while bracing your hands on his chest, while his hands are fondling yours. Tugs and pulls on your nipples until you are arching your back, pushing your chest more towards him. Makes you lean down so he can suck on your perky little buds, ignoring your whines to be more gentle because he’s usually one to play with your tits until they’re red and raw, and covered with his marks. The rare moments when he’s giving your boobs a break, he’ll be leaning back on whatever surface he’s laying on, a lazy smirk adorning his face as he watches you struggle to remain on top of him. He’ll be mercilessly rubbing your clit, pinching the sensitive bundle of nerves between his fingers until your thighs are trembling. But, the very moment you start showing signs of any tiredness, he’ll be gripping your ass or thighs to hover you just above his hips so he could fuck up into you. Won’t relent until you’re either squirting on top of him or until you pass out.
“Come on pretty girl, you can hold out a bit more, can’t you?” “C’mon baby, fuck yourself dumb on my cock.” “Aw, is my little baby tired? Want daddy to fuck your pretty little pussy now?” “Such a spoiled little girl aren’t you,, can’t do anything without daddy’s help.”
SUKUNA, gojo, toji, urahara, zaraki, grimmjow, dazai, KISHIBE, yoshida, dabi, hawks, NAGI, sae, reo and anyone else you can think of
content warnings: afab!fem!reader, virgin!koby but it’s not vital to the plot, riding, top!reader, unprotected sex (wrap it up), cheesy “trapped in a small room” smut troupe, penetrative sex, dry humping, sex with feelings, “good boy” is used twice.
plot: your regular patient, Captain Koby, visits your office but you’re both thrown in a small broom closet during an evacuation drill! He may or may not have a crush on you and your dubious positioning on top of him will send him over the edge.
Captain Koby wouldn’t call himself a hypochondriac, but he cannot keep himself from waltzing into the nurses station on some bullshit excuse to see his favorite nurse. He’s just one of many of your admirers, and he’s more than aware of the fierce competition for your attention. While he doesn’t believe rank means anything in the grand scheme of winning your affections, one quick use of his haki has basic cadets running so he can spend alone time with you.
“And what is it this time Captain?” You whip around in your seat when he sheepishly says hello, scratching the back of his neck. You greet him with a sweet smile as he shuffles in.
“Uhhh, heart burn, yeah terrible terrible heart burn. Think you have anything for me?” He knows he’s full of shit, but it’s worth the effort anyway if he gets to see you. His cheeks tinted just as pink as his hair, you’re pretty much the only good thing left on this base and that’s why he can never bring himself to leave until Garp makes him hull ass on another adventure. The way you smile at him so sweetly whenever he speaks makes his heart flutter almost uncomfortably fast in his chest, maybe he does have heart burn…
“At your age? You’re too fit to be bogged down by all these health problems Captain.” He likes the way it sounds when you say his title, it just rolls off your tongue better than anyone else’s.
He’s quick to think of another excuse, “but what if it’s something serious!” You laugh as he sits down on your medical table removing his captains jacket. You pull down your skimpy nurses uniform before walking over to him with his chart on your clipboard, “I just wanna make sure.”
He wins another smile from you as you stand in front of him to check his vitals. You of course note how hot his face is and how he nervously twiddles his thumbs back and forth. He’s cute, too cute. Coming to your office week after week with a bosh excuse.
Koby loves the feeling of your hands on him, how delicate your finger tips skim over his shoulders and face. Of course it’s all professional, but who is he to complain? The scent of your haircare products and vanilla hovering in the air as you walk circles around him. It’s almost like a familiar routine between you two, he comes into bother you and you almost enable his deep-seated crush by not kicking him out flat on his ass.
“Well, no signs of any lingering symptoms Captain Koby, just a fast heart rate.” You shift your weight to one hip, letting your clipboard rest against your waist, his eyes following the curve of your body. “You’re good to go, will I see you next week?” Letting your red pen rest against your bottom lip you ask just to mess around with him a bit. He gets so flustered trying to find the right thing to say and you enjoy watching him gesture nervously as word vomit spews forth.
The line outside your waiting room has gotten exceptionally long during his stay and you don’t mean to rush him out, but, you do have a job to do. One cute little captain isn’t enough to distract you from your goals of helping people. “Next!” You call out down the hallway as he pulls his jacket back on.
The emergency evacuation lights start flickering before the long winded siren accompanies it. There must be some sort of drill as the overhead PA comes on. “Attention! All hands report to the dock. This is an emergency evacuation drill.” It’s been a few months since the last one, but still the obnoxious flickering and blaring alarms make your head reel in agony.
“Come with me, I’ll take you to the dock.” It’s Koby, he’s gesturing his hand forward for you to take as soldiers pour out into the hallways, he wouldn’t want you to get trampled over as thousands of people make their way outside. He’s always been sweet like this, a real gentleman.
His grip is strong and protective, yet gentle and nervous as he takes your hand in his. You’re placed in front of him while he clears the way for you both to pass through, that is until you’re both shoved into an open door connected to the long hallway.
Koby swaddles you into his chest to protect you from falling and the door is slammed shut in the process. You doubt you’d be able to get it open with the amount of people still passing through for at least a good ten minutes.
“Well shit, oh Captain Koby are you ok?” You hear groans beneath you and remember why your fall wasn’t nearly as painful as it could have been. There’s no light in the room and it’s rather cramped, barely any space to extend your limbs as you’re trapped on top of him. You push your hands against what feels like his chest while you try to look for a light, however you only find an oil lamp on a crate. You assume this was an area where people would come to smoke during work hours.
“I’m fine, are you ok? Does anything hurt miss y/n?” The concern in his tone his evident, his hands come to cup your face as he examines for any scratches or bruises. He’d never forgive himself if you were hurt on his accord.
“Hey isn’t that my job, I’m fine Captain thank you.” It finally sets in for him how he’s touching you so intimately and the precarious position you’re left in, sitting on top of him with knees on either sides of his hips.
It’s a view he only imagines late at night when it’s just him and his hand, maybe some lotion if he’s lucky to not wake Helmeppo. The lamp illuminates his flustered face as he tries his best to slide out from under you, apologizing profusely and almost knocking you in the face while flailing around.
“Koby,” you say trying to calm him down but he’s visibly panicking and you feel him stiffening under you with each passing second. While he’s been moving like a lune, you’re still on top of him; dress rising above your thighs as your clothed pussy sits above his cock, he doesn’t mean to but it’s rubbing your clit so pleasantly. “Koby, it’s ok, I’m not mad.”
“W-what—” his glasses that are typically resting on his head now lay on his nose. It’s amusing watching a Captain of the marines so discombobulated.
“I said, it’s ok, I’m not mad.” You push his glasses up his face to get a better look at all of him, he’s rock hard and only getting stiffer. “In fact, I’m flattered.”
You lean forward letting your lips rest against his parted ones, looking in his eyes for any sort of hesitation— but that doesn’t last. A hand flies to your curls as he pulls you forward by the hip, you knew he liked you but you didn’t know just how much. His kisses are inexperienced and starved, like he’s been waiting his whole life to have this exact moment with you.
Kobys trying not to bust in his pants at this ‘unfortunate’ situation he’s been dropped into. Not only does he get to be alone with you, he’s quite literally living his fantasy and you want him just as bad. He’s praying his inexperience doesn’t show but he wants to taste you so bad he’ll risk it all.
“Shirt off,” you command, it’s too stuffy for all these layers. Unzipping the top half of your uniform lets your breasts spill out, soft skin illuminated by the glow of the small lamp. He obeys without any sort hesitation, “you listen well Captain.”
The tips of his ears turn pink when you comment on his lack of reluctance, kissing his cheeks and then down the column of his neck as his baited breaths fill the small space.
He’s so pale you’re worried hickies will get him in trouble with Garp but he’s squirming under you as your lips make contact with his neck. He’s tugging on your clothes so needily as if to say, ‘harder please, I can take it,’ and goodness do you want to give it to him. What the hell, that jacket should cover it up.
He sighs pleasurably as you work on him, hissing when you scratch at his unmarred skin. His palms grab the globes of your ass as he rocks your pussy against his dick. He’s panting with his head rolled back too lost in the pleasure. “You wanna fuck me captain? That why you come to my office every week.”
He merely moans, eyebrows pinching together in concentration. The fabric of his pants rub against your clit so deliciously, dry fucking one of the navy’s top officers during a drill wasn’t in your plans today but holy fuck did it ignite something in you.
You kiss him again, slower this time, letting your hips drag harshly against his bulge just to tease him. Tongue creeping against his in a fight to slow the pace before he cums in his pants.
“Want you to fuck me Captain, please, I’ll make you feel good,” you half moan, tugging the hair at the base of his neck. If the devil was whispering in his ear right now, he’d let you take him. He trembles feeling need surge through him like a wave, all at once he needs to bury his dick in you to the hilt.
One problem, he’s never had sex before. The way your body rolls on top of his makes his mind hazy, forgetting all about the drill going on outside. “Not enough space,” he huffs, “just fuck me, I’m yours.” Quick on his feet, not missing a beat.
Now it’s your turn to swoon. He looks so honest when he says it, hearts in his eyes as he holds your hips; squeezing against your skin reassuringly.
Sitting back on his knees you pull your dress over your head, slipping your panties off as the lantern illuminates your curves in a soft glow. Koby watches enamored, forgetting that this is the part where he’s supposed to whip his dick out.
“Am I gonna hurt you? I didn’t touch you or anything.” He’s trying to not just reach out and grab you, in his deepest fantasies he gets to drill you in missionary while you call out his name. However, he knows stretching you open is an important aspect of sex (according to his books).
“You’re sweet, but we’ve gotta be quick.” Hovering over his length you use your own slick to lube his dick up before you’re trying to slink down it. He’s pretty average in length with a slight allowance in girth, and yes the curtains match the drapes.
The burn stings before it fades out into pleasure. “Oh fuck fuck fuck, that feels so good,” he whines, gripping your thighs with uncanny strength that’ll surely leave bruises. You wrap your arms around his neck as your cunt tries to swallow him, softly sighing as he fits you like a puzzle piece. Down and down you go on his thick shaft.
He almost doesn’t know what to do with himself, you sucking him in threatens to make drool spill down his chin. Never in his life did he think something warm and yet simultaneously wet could make his toes curl like this. “S’tight, keep going please.” You’re leaned over his shoulder as you try to catch your breath, ignoring the sounds of footsteps outside as you start to slowly bounce on Captain Kobys cock.
“Makin’ me feel so full already,” you whisper into his ear, digging your nails into his shoulders as you clench around his girth. The tip of his cock’s bullying your cervix with each bounce of your hips. The sound of your ass meeting his lap melds with his whines as he tries to get ahold of himself. Your pussy’s just too good.
“Ah— oh, fuck! Faster faster,” his voice sounds so vulnerable as your gummy walls squeeze him in, he hasn’t moved his hands from strangling your waist. Pushing you down further and further each time you chase his base.
It’s all so good; your hot breath, your moans for him to fuck you deeper, the way you’re holding onto him like you need him. He’s utterly melting, succumbing for some tight cunt. Maybe those navy stories he heard weren’t full of shit.
Koby’s chasing his orgasm, using your body as a toy subconsciously. Your ass in his hands as he spreads your cheeks, forcing himself in your heat that scorches him in a way he can’t get enough of. “So good Captain, don’t stop. I could cum on you just like this,” you say pushing him back against the wall. It’s so desperate and raw, his mouth chases yours in a hot kiss as your hands tangle in his hair.
He moans like a little slut each time his tresses are wrapped around your fingers, saliva connecting his mouth to yours. The fucked out look on his face is priceless. “So handsome, what a good boy you are.” Wiping excess drool that threatens to spill past the corner of his lip as he looks like he’s about to cry. His hips jumping to meet yours as that phrase leaves your mouth.
“Oh you like that?” Such a useful piece of information, “then be a good boy and cum for me.”
The whimper that leaves his throat is guttural, high pitched as it rips through the air. His strong arms work double time to slam you down over and over again like a machine. He finishes inside you as he clutches you to his chest, keeping himself tucked inside your cunny while his cock twitches n coats your walls white.
“So good Koby, jus like that baby.” You’re rolling your hips on his, trying to milk out anything remaining as he gasps from the stimulation.
“Oh no wait, what about you? I’m so sorry—” he doesn’t even let himself pull out of you before he’s speaking a thousand miles a minute. No worries, you have an idea for that.
You both get dressed as you hear the crowds returning, helping him zip up his jacket to cover the already bruising areas of his neck. Koby pulls your dress down over your ass and then some, like he’s your protective boyfriend or something, you just roll your eyes.
Stepping out into the hallway in a sea of people you hold his hand as he walks behind you, slipping into the crowd unnoticed. You forgot to smooth his hair out so he looks like he’s just slept in some crazy position, oops. He’s got this love drunk look on his face as you lead him back to your office and shut the door. Hearts buzzing around him as he follows you, not even an arrow from Cupid could replicate that look. You get some stares here and there, but your cunts throbbing for more so you couldn’t care less.
You place your “Be back soon <3! “ sign on the handle before turning around to find him sitting on your patients table, looking a bit too eager for round two.
“Now Captain, finish what you started. Nurses orders.”
Cause happy 2k followers to me, and I am awake at 4:30 for the past hour because of a nightmare my brain decided to manufacture. Either who... Here you go. Inspired by an ask from the amazing @izukuisbaby sorry for literally only giving this months later babes! I'm back.
Midoriya had just gotten to sleep not even two hours before, having come in the early hours of the morning from a late shift at his hero office. He had slipped into bed with you, curling up behind you, holding you as his mind drifted to an expanse of nothingness.
However, he would have slept much better if the patter of your feet wasn't going around the bedroom. Midoriya opened his tired jade eyes, they didn't sparkle like they normally did when he slept well. He rubbed his eyes, burning from exhaustion. He lifted his head slightly once he noticed that he was holding one of your big teddy bear stuffies and not actually you. He frowned.
He looked up to find that you were walking around the expanse of your shared bedroom with your phone flashlight dimmed as you shone it in corners of your room you couldn't see or by the curtains. You stood walking in one of Midoriya's t-shirts that read 'Sleeping Shirt' .
Midoriya sat up slowly with a grumble. "Dumpling, wha-" His gravelly voice started. Midoriya wasn't even one second into speaking and his head was immediately targeted by a slipper, knocking him back into bed with a nice solid:
THWACK!
You had thrown one of your sleepers at the noise the moment it had appeared. You gasped as you stood back up straight. "Izuku!" You let out in shock. You quickly moved towards him, moving to his bedside to turn on the side lamp. Your husband of two years groaned as he lay back on his pillow. You lifted the slipper off the bed and quickly put his face in your hands. "Are you alright, my love?"
Midoriya struggled to open his eyes due to the new light, but he did so just so that he could see your face. He lifted his hands shakily up to hold onto yours that held his face. He blinked for a moment, taking in your features. "Congratulations, you just successfully took down the Number One hero of Japan." He let out sleepily. You smiled at the comment with a slight giggle. Midoriya smiled, seeing you smile and giggle. Midoriya pushed himself up with one hand to look at you. "Real talk, dumpling." He said as he rubbed the front of his face by the bridge of his slightly skewed nose that had taken one too many hits from villains. "What are you doing awake?" He asked.
You sighed. "Sorry I woke you up, 'Zuzu." You tell him quietly. You sat down on the bed with a slump. "I was checking our room."
"For what?" He asked with a yawn.
"Demons." Midoriya blinked at you for a solid few seconds, thinking he hadn't heard you correctly. "I'm serious, Izuku. They could come out of anywhere. We have to be prepared. Where's that bible your mother used to pester you about reading? It could-"
"Honey..." Midoriya started with a soft smile. "You are aware that your husband is a hero right?" He asked taking your hands together, calming you down. You hesitated but nodded. "You are aware that I would protect you with my life, right?" He asked you. You nodded your head. "Then why are you so worried?"
"B-but what if you aren't there Izuku?" You started quietly. You looked down away from him. Midoriya froze for a moment. It was something that often plagued your mind. What was the point of him telling you he would always be there, that your Number One Hero husband would save you, if he wasn't always there. If he was out saving the world and not saving you. "What if I'm alone. You weren't here when I went to bed and you weren't there in my dream. I was all alone." You said quietly.
Midoriya was quiet alongside you for a moment. He smiled gently, that smile that he used whenever he knew he had to be braver than he felt and greater than he seemed. "You know what helps me when I feel alone and scared?" He asked you. You shook your head. "I remember that I have you. In every nightmare that I have..." He looked down at your joined hands. His scarred hands and calloused fingers rubbing your knuckles gently. "In every... evil nightmare of me never being able to get to you in time..." You paused at his confession. "Every nightmare of you never being by my side. Of the people we love not being by my side. You know what I do? Well first I wake up to stop myself from absolutely crying a river, but then I see you." He looked up at you with genuine admiration and love. "I realise, that I'm not alone. That all those nightmares are fake and are being used against me. Cause in reality, you and I are stronger than anything there is out there." He whispered down to you, placing his forehead against yours. "You and I, my love... will always have each other even when we are millions of worlds apart. I will always come back to you, one way or another." He placed a kiss against your forehead as he pulled you to sit in his lap and he held you in his arms.
You buried your face in his warm chest and took in a breath and released a shaky one. "Thank you, Izu." You whisper.
"Always, my love." As he held you, keeping his head resting on top of your own, you didn't see the hauntingly serious expression on his face. Eyes sparking with electricity and face rid of any smile. He closed his eyes, promising himself that he would make a greater effort to himself to be there for you more often. "Always."
Katsuki Bakugou
Bakugou had relatively been a light sleeper since his U.A days. He didn't hesitate for even a moment. He was probably the most paranoid person to ever be with. He would make sure everything was in place. Nothing was out of order. Everything and everyone was where they should be.
Hell some nights he would even spy on the neighbours to make sure they weren't doing/planning anything suspicious before the two of you went to bed. (Your neighbours were the Midoriyas so you weren't exactly surprised). He was sceptical of everything.
He saw all, knew all, heard all.
So it was no surprise that he woke up in the dead middle of the night and noticed that you weren't in bed.
Bakugou's crimson eyes opened without hesitation when he felt a particular draft of air that shouldn't exist in his room that night. His gaze moved to your side of the bed that was empty with only the imprint of your form left behind. His eyebrows furrowed as he sat up, looking around the room in surveillance.
Finally he relaxed when he noticed you were sitting by the windowceil looking out the window that was now open. You were silent as you looked out into the calm hero neighbourhood. Your face was sad and slightly emotionless as you looked out.
With the adrenalin lowering in his system, Bakugou rubbed his eyes. Fatigue hitting him from being awake in the middle of the night. He moved silently and carefully, out of bed. He pushed the covers and walked over to you.
You knew he was there. He might have been an ace at stealth when he wanted to be and the Number Two Hero in Japan but he was still your husband before all that. "Baby..." Bakugou's walked up behind you, putting a hand to your shoulder. "Why are you awake?" His gravelly voice asked.
You looked back up at him with a small smile, before looking back out the window. "I just had a bad dream Katsu, I promise I'll be back in bed soon. Go back to sleep, my love." You squeezed his hand with your own. "You have work early tomorrow."
"Today. I have work in a few hours." He corrected you. "But... that's not important right now." He carefully settled in front of you. He sat there, moving to keep a hand on you at all times, one on your thigh for good measure. His face was gentle and without any other worry but that of your well being. His blond hair was illuminated by the moonlight making it seem more of a platinum blond than ashen. "What was the dream about?"
You were silent for a moment, not having any particular look on your face. "Remember... remember that one time when we were still dating when we discussed about having kids?" He hummed, acknowledging that he did remember. "Well I had a dream that we had kids and-"
"Wow, that's your definition of a nightmare?" He asked amused with a raised eyebrow.
You rolled your eyes and playfully shoved him. "Katsuki! That's not the point. It wasn't the bad part."
"Oh..." He leaned back folding his arms over his chest. "So you do still want kids with me?" He asked with the the smuggest grin on his face. "Well if that's what it is, you don't have to be distressed, sweetheart, I can give them to you." Heat sprung up your neck and face. You swatted his thigh pushing him away (unsuccessfully). He laughed with a big smile at your reaction. You pulled your legs to your chest as you looked away from him. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. What was the bad part?" He calmed down.
You let out a breath and closed your eyes. You tightened your hold on yourself. "I dreamt that I lost you." You whispered but it was loud enough for the pro to hear. He paused, his face falling at the statement. "I couldn't handle it. Handle seeing the commission at my door step knowing you wouldn't come back home. I couldn't handle seeing all our friends, our family, even our children asking me why you weren't home yet. I didn't know what to do." You whispered. "It scared the shit out of me. Cause what if it happens and I'm a mess. That I ruin our family all because I don't know how to live without you."
Bakugou was quiet for a moment. His mind processing your confession and how you were feeling. He let out a sigh. "Cupcake, I won't lie to you and say that it's impossible. This job is dangerous, it's deadly and it'll leave everyone I love worried. I know that. You know that." You nodded looking away from you. "But..." He took your hands in his own, pulling your attention back to him. "You know me, babe. You know just how much of a stubborn bastard I am. You really think I would let death take me without cussing out his mother to his face?" You chuckled, shaking your head knowing very well that your husband was correct. if there was one think Bakugou Katsuki was good at, it was putting up a fight. "Yah, I thought so." He pulled you into his arms, putting his head on top of yours as he closed his eyes holding you tightly. "Don't worry babe. You are so much stronger than you think and so much greater than you know. If we did decide to have a family together, I know you would do what you need to do despite everything."
You nodded your head as you kept your face buried in his chest. "I love you, Katsuki." You told him honestly.
He placed a kiss on your head. "I love you too."
Eijiro Kirishima
Kirishima slept like a rock. He could fall asleep on anything, anywhere and it would be physically impossible to move him or wake him up without an extreme force or his senses going off. It was almost like he hibernated. He was a nightmare to wake up and an even bigger nightmare to get out of bed.
But somehow, in someway, he always knew when something was wrong. His senses going off when something just wasn't right.
Something to make his senses go off was emotional disturbances. Kirishima was very well in tune with his own emotions and especially the people around him. He was just a very empathetic guy and person that way. He was always caring for other and making sure that they were taken care of. It was the manly thing to do afterall.
So when Kirishima found himself stirring in the middle of the night, feeling subconsciously as if the atmosphere around him wasn't as calm as it should have been, was an odd thing. He grumbled as he rubbed his eyes, tiredly. His eyes were barely open as he turned to look at you. You were sitting up in bed, quiet concealed whimpers escaping your lips.
Kirishima's eyebrows bunched up in confusion. "Sweetheart?" He let out in a tired drawl. He pushed himself up with one hand as he rubbed his eyes. "What's wrong? Are you okay?" He asked.
You quickly wiped your eyes. You forced a smile to your lips as you nodded your head. "Yah. I'm okay Eiji, just go to bed." You told him quietly, your voice barely believing the own words coming out of your mouth.
Kirishima frowned as he realized that you were lying to him. He shook his head. "Mh mh. Nope." He put one hand on your shoulder looking down at you with pure concern in his eyes. "Come on, talk to me. What's wrong?" He asked you again.
You slowly turned to look up at your redheaded husband. At first you couldn't do anything. Your own body not knowing how to process for a second. And then as you looked up at him, his loving ruby eyes on you like always, the floodgates came crashing down on you. You bit down a sob and as quicker than you could think, Kirishima pulled you to his chest.
He rubbed circles around your back and whispered to you sweetly. "Sh... it's okay, my love. It's okay. I'm here." He told you comfortingly, as he moved you to sit on his lap and face him as he held you.
It only made you want to bawl your eyes harder. "I'm sorry Eiji..." You spoke through the cries. "I just had a bad dream and I... I..." you couldn't finish your words.
He nodded his head understandingly. "It's alright sweetheart. I understand. We all get those dreams from time to time." Kirishima knew that whenever he was in this position you always helped him. You would hold him sweetly and whisper to him of nothing but good things. He would always do the same. "Want to just sit here for a while?" He asked you, peeking down at your small form in his large arms. You nodded your head. "Okay."
Kirishima leaned back against the headboard as he kept his arms around you. His warm body against yours keeping the cold and bad thoughts away. He started to hum sweetly, lulling you immediately into security and peace. Even though Kirishima knew that some things were just too painful to say, he would stay with you even in the silence.
Summary: After admiring your scent. Bakugo tries to court you. But it comes with some difficulties.
Warnings: OmegaVerse, scenting, courting, meantions of heats, mentions of slick
Notes: I’m so happy you liked the first one!
It would have never come to Bakugo that he would be so attracted to an Omega’s scent. He was pretty sure he would live most of his life without an Omega by his side due to how brash and loud he was. This was a key factor of driving Omega’s away who only wanted softness and comfort.
Bakugo knew that he could be gentle when he wanted to be, it just had to take him a bit to learn. And if you accepted his offer to court you. He would begin the process of showing you his softer side.
But little did he know that the idea of courting an Omega is easier said than done.
Can I request a Kaminari fluff smut with his ftm! boyfriend? They were just chilling in the room at night, listening to good music, and it just escalated? lol
cw. nsfw, gn!reader, threesome, poly!soapghost x reader, grinding, nipple play, brief handjob, finger sucking, double penetration, implied size kink, tummy bulge, praise, degradation *not proofread, just pure horny
[for all the ghost x reader x soap fanfic wanters <33]
reblogs and comments are appreciated <33
it was damn near two am. training had barely ended before the three of you hurdled to your shared room. soap and ghost sat on their beds, nearly falling asleep as soon as they did. though they were dead tired and soap wanted nothing more than to just hop in the shower with you for some much needed time alone, the day had been too grueling to do anything remotely intimate.
minutes passes and all of you were showered and laying in bed ready to sleep... other than good ol' soap. soap decided that now was the best time to just get it all out. while ghost had stepped out of the room for a quick minute, soap took matters into his own hands. you lay on your side, trying to fall asleep when you feel his hands slide over your hips. that's when you feel it.
you knew the three of you needed this, so you flip over and throw your legs over his hips, straddling him. soap only look on at you, letting out a shaky moan when you circle your hips above his. his hands grab the fat of your hips, bucking his hips up into you. "just like that baby, just like that." soft moans fell from your lips, but you knew this wasn't enough.
it never was.
"I was gone for two minutes and you've already started without me?" both you and soap just moaned, grinding your hips a little harder into each other. your eyes are glazed in lust, letting your aching hole guide you. you tugged your shirt over your head, bare chest falling a victim to cool air. soap pulls you down to him, still grinding his hips into you as he tugged your nipple with his teeth.
soap hurriedly tugged your shorts down, pushing them down your thighs before you got up to kick them off. your underwear was gone with it, leaving you bare while both of them were still clothed. you tugged on soaps sweats, haphazardly pulling them down his thighs with his boxers. you spit into your hand, stroking his cock before impaling yourself on it.
soap open his mouth in a silent gasp, his hands immediately resting on your hips as you start circling and bouncing your hips. you nearly forgot about ghost being in the room until he pressed himself against your back, you can feel his cock throbbing against your ass. your hands are on soaps chest, keeping you stable as he forces you along his cock. ghost shoves two fingers in your mouth, feeling how your tongue swirls around them. "there we go, such a sweetheart."
simon pressed his tip to your hole, prompting johnny to stop his merciless movements. taking his now slicked fingers, he stroked himself before carefully pushing in along side johnny. johnny slowly rocked his hips, distracting you from the burn of the stretch. once ghost bottomed out, the two set opposing paces. one went out and the other came in, the cycle never left you empty. "look at this little whore, johnny."
your thighs were shaking, overwhelmed by pleasue. "so fucking food for us." the way they talked lke you weren’t being speared open on their cocks sent jolts down your spine. johnny pressed a hand to your stomach, feeling your hole clench around him when he pressed into the bump in your stomach. "taking us so deep, baby."
your body trembled, nearly falling onto soap as ghost took a tight hold of you hips, picking up his pace and chasing his release. "go on angel, cum for us." the deep rumble of his voice sent chills down your spine as stars shoot across your vision. your kouth hangs open in a silent scream as you squirm and shake in their hold.
the walls of your spasmming hole had both of them shaking as they hold your hips tightly, a familiar warmth flooding you. the only audible sound in the room is your erratic breathing. even if sleep is the only thought in your head, soap and ghost seem too pent up to sleep just yet. besides how are they supposed to not get hard when you look so pretty, twitching and shaking on soaps lap?
i’m bored, high, and want my man eren rn so imagine with me rq girlies
cw include/// black coded reader, drug usage, oral f & m receiving, unprotected sex, creampie, big dick renny/// wc: 1.8k
OKAY SO!!! imagine being childhood best friends w eren and not to be cliché but he’s totally in love with you. he just loves you sm omg the way you’re so pretty and confident it makes his heart swell. the older he got the more this crush turned into a deep desire. he didn’t want to compromise the friendship of course so he kept these feelings to himself but it never got any easier especially since you’ve recently been more open about your sex life that is seriously lacking.
“so not only was the head wack, he was a one pump chump! fell asleep right after i didn’t even get to cum,” you sighed taking a long hit of the blunt you and eren were sharing. eren kissed his teeth shaking his head, “ion know why you fuck around with these lames y/n i keep telling you none of them are good enough for you.” if only you knew that eren could make you cum as many times as you asked and had stamina that could go on for hours on end </3 “of course you’re gonna think they aren’t good enough you’re my best friend and that’s you’re job,” you giggled passing him the blunt.
the effects of the drug were starting to kick in and you knew that because you suddenly couldn’t control any words that slipped from your mouth. “i just—i don’t understand how hard it could possibly be to eat pussy like even i could do that shit,” you dramatically sighed dropping your head on eren’s shoulder. “you just need to find someone who eats pussy for their own pleasure,” it was silent for a moment before he continued speaking, “someone like me.” you quickly lifted your head raising your eyebrows at the man in front of you, “you get down like that ren?” eren gave you a small smirk, “ fuck yeah i love eating pussy. hearing how good i make someone feel makes me feel good you know?”
you hadn’t even realized how much his words were getting to you until you felt yourself squeeze your thighs together and it certainly didn’t go unnoticed by eren. “why are you looking at me like that?” you mumbled staring down at eren’s fully tatted arm. you thought he was ridiculous for getting a sleeve but now it looked….kinda….hot??? “what? i’m not allowed you look at you now?” he chuckled bringing his hand to your face to squeeze your cheeks together. you swatted his hand away feeling your cheeks get hot, “you can look at me…just not like that.” eren’s smirk widened, “like what?”
the room suddenly began to feel very very hot and you didn’t know if it was the drug in your system or eren’s hard stare—shit maybe it was both (definitely both). “like—like that! i don’t know you’re just making me feel weird,” eren was supposed to be like a brother to you but you definitely couldn’t deny how handsome he’d gotten since you graduated high school. he’d grown his hair out instead of keeping it short and had a slight growth spurt going from 5’11 to 6’3 in the blink of an eye. he’d taken up smoking weed, got tatted up, and now he’s apparently getting more play than you ever have.
“well maybe i don’t wanna stop looking at you like that? ever think of that?” you didn’t know what came over you but next thing you knew your lips were crashing into eren’s. when you pulled away eren had a look on his face that you couldn’t quite decipher. he licked his lips, the taste of your cherry gloss making his mouth water. after a long silence you began to feel anxious negative thoughts beginning to cloud your brain. “you know it’s funny after all this time i thought i would be the one to kiss you first,” he chuckled putting out the blunt. “told you the way your were looking at me was making me feel funny and why do you think you’d be the first one? you like me or something,” you let out a small, barely audible laugh now tracing your finger delicately over the tattoos on his arm.
suddenly you were pulled onto eren’s lap, your chest pressed against his. “i do like you a lot actually but we can talk about that later yeah? just kiss me again,” he most certainly didn’t have to tell you twice as soon as the words ‘kiss me again’ left his mouth your lips were on his again. “go slow we got all the time in the world baby,” he mumbled against your lips taking your bottom lip in his mouth to suck on it. after what felt like an eternity of kissing and a whole lotta groping on eren’s part he pulled away, cheeks flushed and breathless. eren brought his hand up to your face, his thumb tracing over your bottom lip, “you have really soft lips—bet they’d feel good on my dick.” he shoved his thumb into your mouth pressing down on your tongue lightly,” you know what it’s like hearing about all those guys not satisfying you when i could’ve been doing the shit myself,” he tsked bringing his free hand to your ass to give it a squeeze. you wrapped your hand around his wrist pulling his thumb from your mouth, “then…do it let’s see if you’re all talk or actually ‘bout it.”
and to no one’s surprise eren was indeed a master with his tongue. he was practically making out with your pussy at this point, his cheeks flushed bright pink and the entire lower of his face glistening from your wetness. “so fuckin’ good,” he moaned into your pussy, pushing your body as close to his face as possible until he had little to no room to breathe. you were cursing yourself out in your mind so utterly pissed off that you went all this time without knowing that eren had an interest in you and that you could’ve been getting the best head you’ve gotten in years. he wasn’t afraid to be sloppy which you happened to like a lot and he could tell by the your moans became more high pitched whenever he would wrap his plump lips around your clit and slightly shake his head.
“e-eren?” you whispered, propping yourself on your elbows to get a clearer view of him. eren lifted his eyes to your face but never stopped the quick kitten licks he was giving your clit. “i think i’m ready to take you, it can’t hurt too bad right?” you breathlessly giggled becoming more antsy by the second to get a peek of what eren was hiding in those grey sweatpants. eren stood to his full height a teasing smirk gracing his lips, “pull em off,” he chuckled referring to the sweatpants that were hanging dangerously low on his waist. with trembling hands you hooked your fingers around the waistband and slowly pulled them down. you couldn’t hold back the tiny gasp that left your lips once you saw eren’a dick. here it was at a whopping eight and a half inches and it was scarily thick.
“eren this should be classified as a weapon,” you couldn’t help but giggle at your own joke making eren roll his eyes. “shut the hell up, now open your mouth i need to get it wet,” he grunted tapping the tip against your cheek. you parted your lips slightly and without warning eren shoved two fingers down your throat causing you to gag. once you had enough saliva built up eren removed his fingers smearing the excess spit on his dick. “i’ll go slow…for now,” eren chuckled pushing his tip between your lips already giving you a mouthful. eren had a shit eating grin on his face seeing you already begin to gag when he wasn’t even halfway in and now you were determined to show him you could handle it. you relaxed your jaw before taking more of him in your mouth using every method you heard of to try and control your gags. eren pulled the collar of his shirt between his teeth to get a better view and by god it did not disappoint. your eyes were brimmed with tears and your lip gloss was beginning to smear but he still thought you looked gorgeous.
eren wasn’t showing it but he was giddy as hell on the inside. he’d spent countless nights in his room fucking his fist to different scenarios of you and this was the one he thought of the most. him towering above you while you struggled to take every inch of his dick in your tight little throat. but he had to cut it short because he 1. embarrassingly enough was already close to cumming and 2. baby boy just wanted to be inside you. eren pulled you away by your hair making a mental note that he will have to pain your face with his cum in the near future. “i think it’s wet enough, lay back and spread your legs,” you did as you were told and laid on your back spreading your legs as wide as you could.
eren stepped between your legs and tapped the head of his dick against your clit a few times before slowly pushing the tip in. he brought his hand to your clit rubbing quick little circles, “shit did you—did you just cum?” eren groaned at the sight of your wetness tricking down his dick. “y-yeah sorry i didn’t know how close i was,” you whimpered bringing your hands up to cover your face. eren removed your hands from your face giving you a sweet smile, “nah nah it’s okay just boosts my ego even more,” he chuckled pushing himself in until he was at the hilt.
eren told himself he’d take it easy on you but as soon as he felt how warm and wet you were around every inch of him all that went out the window. he pushed your knees to your chest and began a brutal, rough pace using one of his hands to wrap around your throat. “stick your tongue out,” he grunted squeezing your neck just a tad. you complied sticking your tongue out, the second you did eren spit on your tongue letting it trickle down your throat before sucking your tongue into his mouth. “rennn,” you moaned pathetically against his lips, feeling yourself already about to cum again. “you better hold that shit ‘wanna cum together,” he groaned, shushing your whines with another kiss.
between you squeezing eren’s dick impossibly tight and the loud squelching of your pussy it didn’t take long for eren to reach his peak, thrusting roughly into you one last time before spilling himself into you. with eren’s pelvis rubbing deliciously against your clit you were right behind him soaking his thighs and the sheets below you in your cum. “i’ll buy you a plan b,” eren sighed dreamily nuzzling his face in your neck. “okay….you know we’ll have to talk about this when we’re sober and more awake,” you mumbled scratching lightly at eren’s scalp. “of course, just wanna lay with you for a little bit goodnight y/n,” eren whispered pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder.
Soap didn’t mean to stumble onto this… scene, it just happened. When neither you or Ghost answered the coms for several long minutes, he got a little nervous and had to go searching for you. Well, he found you alright. Didn’t take long at all. Just had to follow the muffled, suspicious noises and the sound of skin slapping against skin.
He caught a glimpse of bare flesh and it had his brows raised immediately. Suddenly the sounds made a lot of sense. He wasn’t stupid, he already had an inkling, but to actually see it, witness it, well… he wasn’t going to complain.
It’s the opposite, really. He enjoys this very intimate, seemingly private moment going on before him.
Ghost is already inside you by the time Soap discovers the two of you. He’s thrusting into you hard, fast, taking you brutally from behind, breathing heavy as he clamps a hand to your mouth to quiet the moans and cries but from where Soap stands, hidden from view and dumbfounded, he can hear all the sweet, desperate sounds that spill from you. Soap watches the way your eyes roll back, admires the way your breasts bounce with every thrust, and he thinks about just how fucking hot you look.
The large hand that had been over your mouth slides to your throat. Ghost squeezes and you must really like that because you gasp out, a strangled cry leaving your parted, swollen lips, and arch into him.
“You’re just loving this, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Simon’s deep voice huskily growls.
Biting your lip, you nod. “Yes, sir,” it comes out as a watery sob, voice small and weak.
Soap feels his cock twitch and harden in his pants. This is the fastest he’s ever gotten so turned on and, though he feels some shame in watching his best mate fuck his girl, this is the hottest thing he’s ever seen. Swallowing thickly, he carefully and quietly unzips his pants, giving himself just enough room to pull his cock out. He begins to work his cock, palming his shaft to Ghost’s pace.
“Fuck, love, you feel so god damn good,” Ghost hisses, letting his head roll back as he stands straight up; the hand on your throat leaves, trailing down to give a sharp slap to your ass.
You yelp, fingers curling around the lip of the box you were currently being fucked on top of. Soap almost curses, his balls aching for release.
“Please,” you beg, voice slurred. “Please, please, Simon. Cum in me, I wanna cum, Jesus-“
“Shh,” Ghost hushes all too sweetly as he leans over you, petting your head and grabbing a fistful of hair. “Have some patience, sweetness. You’ll get yours when I’m done using this tight cunt. Soon. Then I’m gonna fill you up like the slut you are.”
Soap bites down on his tongue as he feels his release building like a hot coil in his gut. You’re so close, he can tell by the way your legs are trembling and your face is twisted in absolute pleasure. You’re trying to rock into Ghost’s thrusts, moaning and whimpering and sobbing as he fucks you in just the right spot.
When Simon slaps your ass again, harder this time, leaving behind a welt, you cum. Your eyes fly open, roll into the back of your head, as your body arches. Then Soap sees it, the rush of liquid that soaks your thighs and wets the floor. The Scottish man can’t help but groan as he cums in his fist, painting his palm and digits with his seed.
“Fuck, love,” Ghost laughs darkly, his thrusts now quick and desperate, “never done that before. Fuck, fuck-“
His head gets thrown back as he finishes deep inside you, sheathing his cock fully in your cunt until he’s empty. Still inside you, he straightens up and turns his head enough to look at Soap, who startles and freezes like a deer in headlights.
no but like what if ghost did fuck reader in front of the team. my head is so full with that thought.
A/N: Simon Ghost Riley x F!Reader. Voyeurism kind of. Vague smut.
It’s not out in the open. Not really. But every damn one of them knows what’s happening.
Price is on watch while the rest of the team lies on the floor of a dirty, old living room. It’s a rundown shack in the middle of Colorado. The cold is severe, full of needles and glass, and Soap can see his breath. Gaz is pressed against him. Vargas is on his other side.
Romantic. Two unshowered men nearly on top of him, but the heat is appreciated.
It’s quiet except for the wind howling like something out of legend. Makes him think of banshees or spirits. Soap can hear voices in the violence of its texture. Branches snap against the windows and patchy roof. Howls of agony that may just be from the meat of his head. He's seen a lot of death this week.
“We can’t.”
It’s you, your voice high and thin before it's met by the low, rumbling rasp of Ghost responding with something Soap can't discern. The floor creaks, the shadows burning patterns across the popcorn ceiling. Cobwebs. The stench of rotten wood.
What are they whisperin’ about?
Soap hears Ghost shift. He’s surprised at how the man maneuvers his colossal mass without the room buckling.
Simon somehow got dibs on being your source of warmth for the night. Soap had even asked first, a tease more than anything.
“Care to be my cuddle buddy, lass?”
You’d laughed before your eyes cut to Ghost who was leaning against the wall, bulging arms crossed over his chest. All black aside from the white stain of his mask. Looming like some stone effigy.
“Um,” you said. “Sure, Johnny-“
“You’re taking watch with me, Red,” Ghost had cut in, tone flat and dry enough to burn. You’d blinked at him, the corner of your mouth twitching.
“Oh,” you said softly. “Forgot. My bad.”
Sure.
Soap jerks when he hears you whimper. It slices through the cold, the wind. He moves his head to look before Vargas knocks him in the thigh. Soap scowls.
“What the hell, mate?” he whispers.
“He’s fucking her,” Vargas states plainly. “Just warning you.”
Soap nearly chokes, a laugh punching at the back of his throat before he stifles it. “Come again?”
Vargas widens his eyes meaningfully. Soap can’t believe it and so he lifts himself to his elbows to peek across the room. He’s not exactly understated, mostly running on curiosity and bewilderment.
Lieutenant wouldn’t -
Oh. Holy. Shit.
Ghost is on top, one arm braced beside your face. Soap can barely see you due to Ghost’s giant body that’s pinning you to the floor. You’re revealed in flashes. Bare knees locked against Ghost’s waist, pant leg loose around an ankle. His trousers are hitched lower, but he still appears fully dressed. Your small hands clasp the back of Ghost’s head, before slipping down to dig your fingertips into the nape of his neck.
Ghost is fucking you slow and lazy. His ass rises before driving forward, lurching you slightly up the floor. One gloved hand is under the crown of your skull, pillowing it from the uncomfortable wood surface. Your heel slides down the back of his thigh. He thrusts a little more sharply and it forces a moan from your lips.
“Shhh,” Ghost murmurs in a voice that Soap has never heard him use. In fact, it sounds alien coming out of Simon Riley. It’s coaxing and tender. “Good girl,” he finishes before there’s the distinct noise of something wet.
A hand grips his collar and wrenches him back down. It’s Gaz, expression chastising as he cocks an eyebrow. “If Ghost catches you watching them…”
“He’s gonna what?” Soap returns, jaw clenched because the sight, the sounds are doing something to him. “If Price walks in, the cunt’s gonna have his fuckin’ head for screwin’ her.”
Gaz squints, his teeth gleaming white in the dark before stifling a yawn. “They’ve been sleeping together for months. I thought you knew.”
The wind screeches outside.
Soap gapes and Gaz flicks his chin. “Close your mouth, man, before the flies get in.”
Soap rolls his eyes. “How’d you know?”
“Saw them going at it outside that bar in Rio.”
“Like kissing?”
“Like he was behind her and had her cheek shoved up against the alley wall.”
Jesus. He remembered that trip. You’d scraped the side of your face and you’d said you’d fallen.
“They haven’t been subtle,” Vargas shrugs. “Remember when Ghost slaughtered half that room on Vlad Kuznetsov’s boat…”
“Yeah,” Soap replies. “But they’d shot her. He was just reacting.”
“He was supposed to keep them alive,” Vargas reminds him. “Death only if necessary.”
“So he deemed it necessary-“
“Because they hurt his girl.”
“I’m too tired for this,” Soap growls. “He should-“
There’s the startling noise of Ghost slamming his hand on the floor and shuddering. You giggle, and he bites off a curse before slapping some bare piece of you - probably your ass. Christ.
Silence returns. The two lovers are breathing hard and deep. The floor creaks and fabric rasps. Simon is talking to you in a soothing baritone before he chuckles. It’s weird as fuck.
“Think she’s seen his face?” Gaz suddenly asks. The question hangs there between the three of them. When Soap hears Ghost laugh softly again, Soap thinks it’s more likely than not.
Ok, I'm sure you're already writing something with Red, Ghost and Soap, BUT in that public smut you wrote... she somewhat flirted back / agreed to Soap with his offer to cuddle. I wonder if Ghost was murmuring some stuff (while balls deep) to arouse her further about inviting Soap... like along the lines of having Soap open her up, so she can take his {Ghost} larger member etc. Is that what the giggle was about? And morning after now that Soap has suspicions confirmed about Ghost and Red... can he be chill? Will he be chill if he got an invite? Anyway, musings in anonymous.
A/N: Simon Ghost Riley x F!Reader. Mentions of anal. Smut. A dash of soap. Parallel to subtle.
“Cuddle with Soap?”
“Cuddle” is full of grit. Ghost spits it out like a dirty word as if allowing Johnny to hold you would have been akin to anal sex.
You palm his cheek, thumb digging under the edge of his mask. His cock is inside you, thick and searing. He drives forward in long, sharp strokes. “You know - oh fuck - you know I wasn’t - wasn’t going to.”
“Do I?” he rumbles, lying flat on top of you, hips rolling between your spread thighs, insistent.
It’s raining outside the safe house. A full, swollen storm pelting against the one window. The trees are swimming together, branches and dead leaves making music. Price is out front on watch. The others are asleep in the corner and Ghost had reached for you in the dark.
“We can’t.”
“The storm’s too loud. No one’ll hear.”
"I don't think-"
"I need you, Duchess."
He braces his weight, his eyes glinting in the holes of his mask as he appraises you. You clutch at him, holding tight even though he’s got you pinned. You can smell him every time you bury your nose in his soft sweatshirt: a lit tobacco pipe in the rain. He rocks forward and rows back at a consistent rhythm, soaking in the warm, slick clutch of your sex. He might do this until morning, until dawn slinks gem-red over the room. He’s tried it before. He’s succeeded.
You should have been a porn star with that stamina. I need a wheelchair.
If you think that will get you out of training, think again, Red.
No matter how subtly he fucks you, he’s still heavy, his cock so big that every plunge aches like an old burn. He punches the breath from your lungs, his bare hand finding purchase over your mouth when you whimper or grunt. The pleasure is debilitating. He blankets you, holding you down, stabbing deep, but careful not to make any noise that could awaken the others.
You’re so wet that you hope the shift and graze of his pants, his boots creaking on the floor is enough to mute the crude song of him claiming your pussy.
“We could ask him to join, hmm?” He nuzzles his covered nose along your jaw. “Should I have him stick his prick in you, open you up for me?”
You clench. It’s totally not your fault, but you lock up, choke his cock. “Shit,” you whisper as he sinks deeper and groans against your throat.
“Dirty girl,” He grasps your hip, squeezes until it’ll bruise, which you wouldn’t mind. You love the marks he leaves on your skin since he’s so careful about publicizing his desire for you outside of these moments. “You fuckin’ liked that.”
His tone is etched with slight bitterness.
“I didn’t,” you murmur, but his dark eyes glisten like seal skin, they’re full of a longing that pinches your nipples - your spine - every branch of nerves. You feel so on display. The attraction for Soap can’t be helped. He’s gorgeous and hilarious, ripples like a white-yellow sun. He’s flirtatious and thrilling and you have the gut feeling that Soap eats pussy with an unreal enthusiasm.
He’s not Ghost, though.
He’s not Simon.
He peers down at you, the weight of him in your cunt swelling and pulsing. You’re stretched to your limit, your knees clamped against his muscular torso. The fabric of his under armor is silky against your bare skin. He’s staring so intently that you feel awkward - nervous as hell.
You giggle. A reflex.
No. No. I don’t want to get dicked down by Johnny.
“Liar,” Ghost finally accuses as he grinds his pelvis into your clit. You arch, nails stabbing into the nape of his neck. You can feel the strain in his tendons, the bunching of his shoulder blades. He’s balls deep, crushing your body but keeping his hand firmly planted beneath your head to protect it.
“I’d-I’d only let him if you were there,” you confess. “Inside me…fuck…holding me while-“
“Inside you?” Ghost rumbles. “You want Johnny to fill somewhere else, then?” He slides one broad hand beneath your ass, lifting your hips and thrusting down so sharply you choke. “Could you handle it, love?”
He’s in your lungs. Your guts. He’s embedded in your nervous system and you can’t remember human language.
“Shit,” you hiss.
“Aw,” he murmurs, audibly impressed with himself. “That’s my girl.”
You bite your lip, eyes rolling back when he delivers another deliberate stroke, his length drags through your walls, ridged and colossal. It hurts just the right amount.
“I could handle it,” you answer hoarsely. “You know I could.”
You tug him down to press your lips to the skull’s teeth, desperate to kiss him, but no that you can’t right here, right now. Ghost goes easily, allowing you to manhandle him. That’s the thing about Simon. He can toss you around, lift you against a wall and fuck you dumb, but he’s always ready to be delicate or subservient when you need him to be.
Your head falls back as you blink up at him, offer him a pointed flutter of your lashes. Ghost actually stiffens, grows harder, massive thighs forcing your knees apart. “Don’t you look at me with those bloody fuckin’ eyes,” he husks. “Tryin’ to distract me.”
“We were talking threesomes, Simon.”
“If you think I’m gonna let that cunt taste you tonight-“
“Tonight?” you echo. “So then tomorrow?”
He pauses, dropping his head and shaking it. He laughs softly. “You’re impossible.”
“You love it.”
“You’re a pain in my arse.”
“You are in mine.”
“I’m not in there yet,” he mutters as he slides one leather-covered finger along the crease of your ass. “But we’ve got a long time ‘til morning.”
You smirk, contracting your lower muscles until his pace stutters.
“Fuck, Duchess.”
“You’d break me if you tried that.”
“Nah,” he assures you, circling his pelvis before pushing further as if he could hit your womb. His mouth is right against your ear. “You know how good I’d make it, yeah? Use my fingers…my tongue…until you’re so fuckin’ ready-“
“Mmm maybe Soap can help. Double-team, yah know?”
His fist slams against the floor. There’s a snarl behind his mask.
“Okay, okay,” you soothe him, petting his burly shoulders. You press a soft kiss to his covered cheek before you lie back and let him continue. “No more Johnny talk.”
hello my lovelies happy friday!!! enjoy this old draft w plug!eren
cw include/// black coded reader, drug use, smut, whole lotta hair pulling, bad writing
“my hairs getting kinda long,” eren hummed taking a hit of the freshly pearled blunt he had just rolled while you ran your fingers through his soft locs. it was true his hair was pretty long—longer than it’s ever been but you adored it that way. “before you ask no i don’t think you should cut it,” you began to braid a small section and the action alone had eren ready to doze off.
he scoffed passing the blunt to you before sitting up from your lap, “not even just a little? it gets in the way alllll the time y/n” he groaned pushing it back with his freshly tatted hand. “you look so pretty with it this long babe don’t cut it,” you pouted now situating yourself on his lap. eren kissed his teeth plucking the blunt out of your hand, “i’m not tryna look pretty ma ‘n who’s gonna be scared of a guy that looks like he’s got bundles in??” his words made you giggle but he looked dead serious. eren was a man who would rather be feared than loved by others (except you ofc) and you never quite understood.
“you’re still my big scary man even with luxurious hair like that,” you giggled tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. and it was true eren had the shiniest, softest hair you’d ever seen a man have but it was all thanks to you. before eren met you he was a three in one soap kinda guy BUT NOW??? baby you gave him the hookup showing him which products would make his hair shine and feel soft to the touch you couldn’t possibly let him cut all of it off—no not when it’s in it’s prime. “just tie it in a bun you look so handsome when it’s up like that—oh! or half up half down thing you do sometimes it looks so sexy like that,” your words had eren’s cheeks turning crimson and his heartbeat quicken. why did you have to be so damn sweet?
“plus….i like to pull on it when we fuck….and how you let out those lil groans when i do it,” your voice came to whisper as you tangled your fingers in his hair giving it a slight tug. eren let out a low groan nearly dropping the blunt in the process. “and i like how it’s all splayed out whenever i ride you, you look so good like that,” by now eren was fully hard and he wanted nothing more than to take you right there but he couldn’t help but wanna hear more praise about how pretty he looked during sex.
“it’s so pretty eren please don’t cut it,” you pouted toying with the hairs at the nape of his neck. eren took one last fat hit of the blunt before putting it out, both of his hands now resting on your hips,” ight y/n i hear you baby i do i won’t cut it okay? i’ll keep it long just for you.” the idea of getting his hair cut shorter was nice but he was too whipped for you and if you said you wanted it long then he would never let a soul touch a hair on his head. “you’re so sweet baby thank you. i think you deserve a little treat for being the best boyfriend ever yeah?” you smiled sliding the straps of your tank top down to reveal your tits to him.
that’s how you ended up stroking eren’s dick while he sloppily sucked on your nipples. every once in a while you’d give his hair a rough tug just to hear him moan and boy was it music to your ears. “eren, baby would you hand me the blunt,” you asked voice smooth as honey. eren blindly reached for the ashtray not once taking his attention off your breasts until he finally felt the blunt, “mmf here take it,” he grunted nibbling on your nipple just teeniest bit.
by the time you finished the blunt you had milked 3 orgasms out of eren, his cum coating your entire hand. eren looked into your glossy eyes feeling incredibly small in that moment, “okay okay can we fuck now? need to be inside you,” he mumbled nuzzling his face in your naked chest. you hummed licking eren’s cum off your fingers one by one, wiping the excess off with a tissue before speaking, “of course we can baby just on one condition” you smiled twirling a piece of his hair around your fingers. “anything you want ma,” he yanked your sleep shorts and panties off in one swift pull leaving you now completely bare. “it’s not too much to ask…” you trailed off swiping the tip of his dick between your slick folds, “i just want you to look at me the entire time.”
the task seemed entirely too easy until you actually sat on eren’s dick, engulfing him in what he liked to call his own personal heaven. “ohhh shit,” eren groaned his eyes rolling back, his eyes quickly snapped back open once he felt a harsh tug on his hair. “i said eyes on me eren,” you cooed giving his swollen lips a few kisses before sucking on his bottom lip. eren let out another low groan nodding his head at your words, “shit sorry baby you jus’ feel so good can’t even think straight.”
eren grabbed both your wirst in one hand while his other wrapped itself in your hair, tugging even harder when you would yank on his. “d-don’t pull too fuckin’ hard ‘n—mmph! fuck u-up my lace,” eren chuckled at your words that oh so beautiful smile on his face making you want him to fuck your brains out even harder. “you can always repair it baby—fuck, i mean you are amazing with your hands,” eren licked a slow stripe up your neck stopping at the spot just below your ear to suck on it just the way you liked. “just make me cum ren,” you whined dropping your head on his shoulder, your grip on his hair completely faltering.
five orgasms later you and eren somehow ended up on the floor, you laying his chest completely breathless and he was in the exact same state. “my hair doesn’t look too bad does it?” you sighed, sitting up to give eren a better view of your face. you looked like you got into a fight with the couch and lost but eren still thought you looked like an angel. “you look beautiful babe how ‘bout mine?” eren chuckled propping himself up on his elbows. he looked incredible of course his after sex glow making you want to ravage him all over again. “maybe you should cut your hair…you’re too damn cute for your own good,” you kissed your teeth pushing yourself away from him, already missing his warmth.
then he gave you that goddamn smirk. that same smirk that had you weak in the knees for him every time he did it. that same smirk that had you jumping his bones and fucking him until you couldn’t even see straight. you narrowed your eyes at the man in front of you, “don’t look at me like that i’m not doing this with you eren i’m too sore,” you shook your head attempting to get up but your legs failed you horribly. eren sat up fully before pulling you back to his chest, “c’mon babe jus’ one more round and we’re done i promise. i’ll roll a blunt…run you a bath to get you all relaxed and shit.” it was very hard to concentrate on his words with the way he was tapping his tip against your clit but you managed fine, nodding your head and whispering a soft ‘okay just one more.’
Need sum nasty ass sex with toxic eren, I’m talkin back shots, him cumming all over ha back, talking to her taking the d , neck kisses, I want it all 😮💨😮💨
in honor of reaching 1k. y’all so nastyyyy i love it!
eyes on me, eren jaeger
your breathing changed about six times every thirty seconds. eren’s strokes were slow and controlled, but almost as if he had absolutely none. the room was clouded with smoke, almost enough pollution to sting your eyes, but the tears falling from them came from erotica instead.
drool hung low on your chin as you gripped onto the silk—no soaked—sheets of your mattress with whatever little strength you had in you, and whatever your man wasn’t pulling out of you.
“you wanna talk all that shit,” eren grunted lowly, forcing himself back into your throbbing hole. “nah, take this dick now.”
you didn’t even do anything wrong. the only thing you were guilty of was ignoring eren for showing someone a little too much attention. and that was marina, a girl whom you’ve hated for nearly two years. she had no respect for your relationship, and eren seemed to enjoy entertaining her bullshit just for the reactions it pulled out of you.
eren watched himself slide in and out of your puffy cunt as thick bursts of smoke left his lips. he was sure he was getting cotton mouth, but he was sure to hydrate with something else later.
“you gonna say sorry?” he teased, although you both knew you hadn’t done shit wrong. “you like being a jealous slut? my jealous slut?”
when you hadn’t answered, eren forced a response from you by arching your back even lower than it already was. the position was starting to illicit a cry from you, but it hurt so good. you were sure you felt him in your cervix right now, but you didn’t bother to stop him.
eren bought his large hands to the plum of your ass and slapped it hard, causing ripples to flow along your skin. he stares down at you in an intoxicated haze, amazed at the intriguing sight. “shit’s like water,” he muttered to himself. “who’s dick is this?”
you still didn’t answer him. you were bound to keep your guard up, and you get that promise. but when eren had moved back to pull out of you, you unconsciously backed up against him in response.
“nah,” your boyfriend drawled out, burning spliff in his mouth. “answer me first then i’ll fuck you.” he ordered. but you were desperate. desperate for him, desperate for his cock; you didn’t even care what he was eaying. you kept pushing your ass back against his thighs in hopes of slipping him back in again, but another harsh slap stung your skin like a bee.
you were nearly crying from the torture. he was entertaining another girl’s bullshit and you were the one being punished?
“please daddy,” you cried. “lemme—“
eren’s large hands suddenly cupped your pussy, signaling for you to stop trying to be slick. then, you felt the tip of his fat cock threatening to enter your begging walls once more. eren ran his head against your lips coated in your arousal, but begging to be stimulated once more for another release.
“answer me, mama. then you can fuck me all you want. whose dick is this?” eren ordered. “you tell me and you throw that ass back all you want. but for right now, i’mma need to hear you.”
“it’s mine,” you finally cried out. your voice was muffled as your face pressed down in the sheets. normally this position you were in would nearly cramp your back, but sex with eren meant that you were going to be turned into a cum filled pretzel every other night.
eren lightly pushed the tip in, already gaining a response from you. “can’t hear you,” he teased malevolently. it was almost as if he enjoyed watching you squirm beneath him. “speak up, baby.”
“it’s mine, fuck!” you yelled out, lunging forward when you felt your velvety walls immediately be filled up with him again. eren forced his hands into your hair to push your head down and force you to take him as he thrusted in and out of you roughly.
eren was a dick sometimes…sure. but the same dick he gave you? you were always cockdrunk over that shit. his dick was just as good as his weed.
“that’s right mama, this shit yours,” eren nodded. “want you to keep repeating that shit till you believe it. go ahead.”
you were stuck repeating the words over and over, and with each time, eren managed to sink you lower and lower. he wasn’t even giving you backshots anymore. you were sure he was just fucking you into oblivion and saw stars.
eventually, eren’s hips began to stutter as he sped up his pace, now full on ramming into you. with one masculine groan, he released his seed into, yelping at all the energy you began to take from him. even after he filled you to the brim, he still had more to give.
with a quick pull out, he gripped the base of his cock and roughly jerked it off, shooting warm, thick ropes of cum onto your pretty brown back.
“look so pretty ass up face down painted in my cum,” eren muttered, putting out the roach in his mouth before using the same fingers to rub the cum oozing out your abused cunt. eventually, he began to just play with it like a kid in slime as he subconsciously fingered you; far too fascinated to notice you squelching around around his fingers.
you hadn’t bothered to answer him as your mind drifted off to a slight subspace. when eren began to nice, collapsed beside you and moved to place tour head on his chest. with a soft rub of your back, it didn’t take much for him to bring you back to reality.
tags - pro hero modelling au, possessive bkg, sexy and sensual but no smut, deku + kiri + kami cameos
summary - Accepting the Bakugou family's olive branch of a modeling gig led you right into the jaws of Dynamight himself. But you'll soon find out just how tempting it is to be bitten.
this is a collab with @fictionalinfinity!! check out her drool-worthy art here
—
It had already been an exhausting day before your manager brought you the news that you would be the second model for Dynamight’s fragrance line photoshoot. You’d been stopped on the street by some ultra-creepy fans, had a delay on some routine car maintenance at the shop, and now this?
“Fuck you, Yui,” you spit, planting your sandal-clad feet in front of the tall woman. “You know how he is. I won’t be involved with any of his shit products.”
She raises a sharp brow. “I’ve heard his products are quite desirable, really.”
“Still, I won’t do it.” A stray hair tickles your nose.
Yui sighs, readjusting the folders in her wiry hands. “There is something you may want to be aware of before you decline.”
“What?” you deadpan, fully aware of your attitude.
“The Bakugou family requested you specifically, as an ‘apology,’ or something of the sort,” Yui pronounces, sucking her teeth as she finishes.
Well, that certainly changes things. It was a grave transgression to turn down an opportunity of this sort, especially when the company (or family) offered it as an apology. It would have been almost like declaring war upon the modeling industry. Scary stuff.
If you turn them down, it means TMZ at your door and no gigs for at least a couple months. If you accept… Dynamight wouldn’t really be there, right? Last time was just a fluke. He wasn’t even supposed to show up, much less shove his hulking body into his own designs and stand there looking seriously pissed for an hour. He wasn’t supposed to stare you down like a bull about to charge and bark orders like he was behind the camera. That dickhead!
You shake your head, eyes clenched shut at the memory. What is more important: your career or your dignity?
“Fine. I’ll do it,” you resolve, having chosen lush body products and expensive groceries over a grudge. “But if he says one nasty thing to me, I’m out. …And I’m telling the girls not to work with him, too.”
Maybe it was petty, but he deserves it. He deserved to never again be able to hire the most sought after female models within a fifty mile radius. He was bossy, infuriating, and yet, he was still stupidly attractive.
Yui’s smug smile told you all you needed to know about what she thought. Sometimes you wondered if she might be a sadist, from the way she loved to torture others like this, but you figured that was for her wife to know and for you to suffer. She just turned on her heel, all sharp edges and intimidating presence. The only kind of presence that worked with you.
You were always clear to your Tinder dates about what you expected from a man. None of them could measure up, even if they thought so. You wanted someone powerful. Maybe a little controlling, you know? A man that isn’t afraid to pursue you; he knows what he wants, and what he wants is you. Your personality is overbearing, too. You easily steamroll anyone who can’t get up to speed, so Yui is the perfect manager. She’s just as much of a bitch as you are, but a little less erratic. A little more grounded.
You’ve been told you’re a bit of a brat. Men love brats, right? Then why can’t you find someone willing and capable enough to mellow your flame?
—
Dynamight is known for being flashy. That’s his whole thing: his insanely powerful quirk, dark and dangerous personality, and body athletic enough to require about four hours of workouts and four-thousand calories. The first time you ever saw him, you were almost terrified at what might be the state of his fridge. Probably a hundred pounds of unseasoned chicken and meal-prepped rice. He likely doses himself with enough pre-workout to kill a horse. He goes hard, always. In the spotlight, he flares brighter.
So why is his usually impeccably designed set bare? Minimal lighting, as expected, but none of the usual leather trim and masculine, natural decor. Most of the room is covered in wires, cameras, and staff. Hair and makeup bustle around in the background, chattering between themselves. The spill of relaxed laughter reverberates off the metal and plastic from the hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of production tech. It almost reminds you of your university’s photography tech room. Almost. But that was a long time ago, the memory of operating cameras just like this fading into the recesses of your mind. It was before they shoved you in front of the camera, bound to be arm-candy for the rest of your existence. Hey, it paid well.
The only empty area of the set is lying in wait before the cameras. Still and quiet, brimming with energy. A snake about to strike. Your heart pulses. The burgundy loveseat in front of an inky, shadowed tapestry is unornamented of the king it’s so clearly meant to hail. It exudes power; effortless and ruling. Truly fit for someone like Dynamight.
Your eyes, trained on the set, slide over to an innocuous, stout woman biting her nails, staring ahead just as you did. She mumbles something about the decor choice—or lack thereof—and spins back around.
You startle, looking away quickly. Fuck, where was Yui when you needed her? You flounder as the woman locks onto you and begins marching quickly in your direction.
“You! Where have you been? We need to get you into hair and makeup right this second!” she spits, bony fingers digging into your elbow. She kind of reminds you a bit of your grandmother. “All the Pros are already in there. Don’t bother them, or you’re off the shoot.”
Jeez. High pressure, much? It’s unclear how much of yourself you’ll have to be to bother them, but you have half a mind not to test it. This is for the Bakugou family.
After dragging you across the main room—and nearly sending you flying into expensive cameras multiple times—the woman gently presses down on the handle to the green room, the click of the hinge the only thing you hear before a rounding yell spills from the crack.
“SHUT UP!” the booming voice nearly smacks you in the face.
The response isn’t pained, terrified silence, but raucous laughter.
A deep, rough voice rises above the noise—”But I thought you were excited, bro! You’ve been after her for so long—”
The same grating yell explodes again. “FUCK! OFF!”
You must have a particularly ugly look on your face, terrified and frozen, because the short woman huffs when she glances back to make sure you’re still there, even though her fingers are squeezed insistently on your pressure points. You feel your hand start to go numb.
“Don’t look so daft, girl. It’s not every day you meet Pros,” she grits out, her piercing eyes slashing through your confidence. So much for the rock in your corner—Yui. “Try to make a good impression. You’re not the star of the show here. You’ll need them to like you.”
Well, obviously you’re not the star. You are a casual model, after all. These were Pro-Heroes. You pull every ounce of strength from your body not to roll your eyes at her.
The door squeals, pulled open by a broad, scarred hand. “Arisu! What are you doing out– oh? Who’s this?” The hand is attached to a very large man. Not a model, obviously, but someone just a bit more important. And scary. Red Riot himself, in the flesh.
You know who he is. A little too well. At the sight of his bright, curious face, pearly white—and sharp—teeth, you can’t help but relive every single time you’ve thirsted after him on your Twitter page. Ab-shot after bicep-shot; that one time he’d run that same scarred hand through a mane of burgundy hair he’d let grow since his high school days. Lord have mercy. He’s sweet too, all too familiar with the neighborhood children and elderly women. You can just picture them asking this tree of a man to change their light bulbs (even if they weren’t out, yet). He’d happily do it, knowing they didn’t need changing.
Red Riot’s smile doesn’t falter at your open mouth. Somewhere behind him, you hear a scoff.
“Who– me?” you guess, blinking.
He hums an affirmation.
“Oh… oh. I’m Y/N. One of the… um… sorry, models for the shoot,” you stutter, dumbly sticking your palm out. You’re relieved when Red Riot takes it, gently shaking your hand.
“Nice to meet you! I’m Kirishima!” he says brightly. Then he opens the door even more, exposing a group of Pros looking excited and anxious. The man of the evening—an angry-looking blond—coughs when he averts his eyes by shifting his entire body away from the door, looking supremely guilty and caught. “This is Bakugou, Kaminari, and Midoriya. Sorry, I wasn’t sure if you would recognize us!”
Holy shit. Is that the Symbol of Peace? Waving at you?
The next thing that comes out of your mouth is: “Oh my god. That’s Deku.”
The angry one almost looks like steam is coming out of his ears.
Red Riot chuckles. “Yeah, that’s Deku.” He glances over to you briefly, then stalls. “Are you okay?”
You feel as if your organs just fell through the bottom of your ass. You’ve spent so many hours watching Deku flip and fly through the air, demolishing villains with the most appalling set of skills. He’d send out a whip, careening through the cityscape, somehow not destroying a thing in the process. A little foray into his Wikipedia page one lonely night left you with a burning heart and overwhelming admiration for him.
The hair stylist messing with his curly green hair sucks her teeth at his movement, and his focus breaks from greeting you to sheepishly spill apologies to her. His cheeks flush under her attention, and you can’t help but notice the dusting of freckles across them. By the look on the stylist’s face, she noticed too.
Oh.
“Oi,” the blond danger perched across the room calls. His arms are crossed over a broad chest, clad in a sleeveless black shirt. You have the fleeting thought that if you were closer, you’d probably be able to see the lines of his pecs. Is it because of the tightness of the fabric, or is he just that muscular? Damn.
Your attention flies to him. By the look on his face, he’s read the room. You balk under his heavy stare, a deer in headlights. “Hello, Bakugou,” you manage.
He jerks his head in a tense nod. It must be some kind of fuckboy greeting. Not cute. But a stray blond hair is knocked out of place by the movement, and his hairstylist’s face sours. You choke back a laugh.
Chargebolt, who had looked up from his phone when you walked in, gasps, “Ooh, Blasty! Is this the model–” He’s cut off by Dynamight’s hand, which comes flying at his face with tiny but threatening explosions. His hair stylist just sighs.
“I’m a model,” you interrupt, throwing Dynamight a dirty look. “I was invited by Dynamight’s parents. I’m probably not the model you’re looking for, though.”
Chargebolt recovers from the attack, having ducked out of the way and jogged over to you. His smile grows. “You can call me Kaminari. You’re supposed to be Blasty’s partner for the shoot, right?”
Your eye twitches. “I– I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah. You’ll be with me,” Blasty himself interjects. “The old hag said so.”
He must mean Bakugou Mitsuki. It makes sense that she was the one to both extend the invitation and allow you a seat in the spotlight. By the way Dynamight talks about her, it sounds like she rules with a heavy hand.
Kaminari laughs beside you, a chaotic sound, and throws an arm on your shoulders. Your knees nearly buckle beneath him as you yelp.
Dynamight snarls behind gritted teeth, “Sparky, get the fuck out.”
The arm lifts off your shoulders like it’s been burned. Kaminari murmurs an “alright, alright” and a “see ya” to you before escaping through the open door.
“You,” he starts, pointer finger outstretched towards you. Wasn’t he ever taught not to point at people? “You better not ruin this shit.”
You cock your head. “I’ll do my best, Dynamight.”
He regards you from under a thick set of lashes, and then raises his chin. “Bakugou.”
Your eyebrows jump in surprise.
Red Riot—Kirishima—startles at the sound of his pocket ringing. With Bakugou’s intensity, you almost forgot about him. He curses, and then fishes around in it for his phone.
“Sorry, guys, I’ve gotta take this,” he huffs after checking the name. He quickly stands, making his way to the door. As he accepts the call and grabs the doorknob to give himself a bit of privacy, you hear him whisper, “Hey, baby. What’s up?”
The ensuing silence is deafening. Stylists meander around the room, bottles clicking on the counters.
You stand there awkwardly, waiting for one of them to tell you what to do. Bakugou’s gone back to his brooding, laid back in his chair and staring resolutely at the wall, and Deku’s distracted, glancing at his stylist’s back and pretending like he’s not. Kirishima and Kaminari are definitely the most socially adept of the four of them. Well, maybe not Kaminari, but at least he doesn’t completely forget–or ignore–your presence.
You eye the seat next to Bakugou, and your other option beside Deku. You’d rather chance an inattentive seatmate than risk your head, so you shrug and plop down next to Deku.
He snaps out of his trance, the almost inaudible muttering stopping abruptly. “Oh! I’m sorry! Do you need anything, Y/N?”
Your smile is taut. “Just waiting for my turn in hair and makeup, really. But thank you for asking,” you reply, leaning in to whisper, “someone here didn’t really seem up for company.”
Deku cringes. His freckles stretch across a grimace. You notice tiny ones splattered like paint on his nose, and bite back a grin. Twitter will love this. “He’s like this with strangers.” He shrugs and flushes. “Oh, not that you’re weird or anything! Or a stranger– I just–!”
You laugh, tossing your head back. Bakugou twitches from his seat on the other side of your friend. “It’s okay, really. He’s weird and strange to me, too.”
Bakugou grunts. Deku sighs.
The conversation lulls as you study the Symbol of Peace. “So, how did you find the time to model for this guy?”
“I promised Kacchan a long time ago that I’d always be around, and I guess this is what he took that as,” Deku explains, his reply more sweet than you expected. Instead of complaining or worrying about all the saving he does as a hero and how this was just taking more time with civilians away from him, he chose to support his best friend.
You can’t manage to keep your thoughts inside, uttering, “That’s so thoughtful, Freckles.”
Bakugou chokes on a sip of water. The hairstylist bristles. She claps her hands together and announces, “Looks like we’re done, sir. I’ll be here during the shoot, in one of the break rooms. Your assistant will let me know if you need a touch up.”
Freckles blinks, turning his body towards her. “Oh, thank you! I’ll see you, um, later then!”
Her smile is demure as she bows and leaves the room, unquestionably aware of his eyes following her.
“Kacchan, why don’t you give Y/N the outfit she’s wearing so she can change?” he says, switching the room’s attention off him and onto you.
Bakugou’s jaw works as he reaches behind him to the rack of bagged clothing. He rips a hanger off and tosses it to you.
“Thanks,” you mumble.
“Be nice, Kacchan!” Freckles chastises.
“Whatever. Find me when you’re done sucking face,” he spits. “Fucking idiots.”
What?
You stare at the side of his face, chiseled and stony, as he stands up and snatches a black and orange sleek motorcycle helmet from the ground next to his chair.
“Kacchan–” Freckles starts.
Bakugou just makes a low sound in his throat, cutting him off. His jaw tenses when he looks back at the two of you, his eyes darkening when they land on you. If he has such a problem with you, why did he let his parents invite you to the gig?
You scoff when he stalks out of the room, letting the door slam behind him.
Freckles sighs. “I’m sorry, Y/N. He has a hard time expressing his emotions, and since you’re here–” he explains, stopping himself with a shocked expression.
“Since I’m…?” you try to prompt him, but he just clamps his open mouth shut and shakes his head like he’s trying to knock something right out of it.
“Never– nevermind,” he answers.
You bite the inside of your cheek and fix your gaze on the door.
Obviously perturbed by the awkward silence, he asks, “Do you want to smell the cologne?”
You bustle, having relaxed without the thought of Dyna– Bakugou. But now his overbearing presence is back in the room, even if he isn’t. Strange.
“It’s good, I promise!” he continues, waving his hands around like he was worried you thought he was trying to get you to smell dirty socks. “The chemists did a really good job at capturing what he actually smells like, but this is more like when he hasn’t used his quirk in a while. He usually smells more sweet– but that’s due to the nitroglycerin in his palms! You know, he actually hates that it makes him smell like caramel. He says it rots his teeth!”
Blinking, you suddenly become acutely aware of your open mouth. Freckles sure likes to talk a lot, huh?
“Oh, I’m sorry. Everyone tells me I need to zip it around new people,” he chuckles, lifting a thick arm up to shyly scratch at the back of his undercut. “Here, I’m sure you’ll like it.”
You tentatively reach out to take the bottle from him. A beat passes, and you snort. “A grenade, really?”
Freckles smiles, white teeth and all. “Ironic, isn’t it? Very him, though.”
“Yeah, definitely,” you grin. Popping the lid off, you go to spray some on your neck out of instinct. On second thought, Bakugou probably would get pissed that you wasted it on your “worthless” skin. You can even hear him complaining. Maybe that’s even more reason why you go ahead and apply it to yourself.
Or maybe it’s because it actually smells amazing.
Notes of black spice, deliciously Bakugou’s energy. And something else a little too him, as well. Sage, incense, an obsessive scent. Masculine and dark. Dangerous. You were simply fucked. If he really smells like this up close, you are going to go insane.
“Oh… oh God.”
Freckles’ face spreads in a devilish grin.
—
When Bakugou left in his fit of misplaced frustration, his stylist decided to focus his attention onto you. You were forced to change into the outfit, a skimpy burnt orange lace set with a flowing miniskirt, and sit in your chair wrapped in a modesty robe while you got your hair and makeup done. Your stylist seemed miles more pleased and content with you than he did with Bakugou. You think you can understand the feeling.
You’re making your way back to the main set room when a pair of arms snatch you from the hallway into a dark alcove. A massive hand wraps around your mouth, silencing the cry crawling up your throat.
This is it, you think. I’ll die here, killed by some salty set-hand with a weird vendetta against pretty women. There really is too much of an incel problem in the city.
You are ignoring your loud heartbeat and futile attempts at struggling to make peace with your grudges when your captor spoke.
“Stop fuckin’ wiggling around. I’m not gonna hurt you, idiot.”
You croak like a frog.
“I’m serious. Quit it.”
You still in his grip, chest heaving against his thick arms.
“As much as I’d love to keep you shut up, I’ll take my hand off if you promise not to scream,” he growls, and suddenly you recognize the voice. Fuck! He really did hate you! But would a Pro really kill you? “Will you promise me, princess?”
Okay, well, that’s a new one. You figure he likes to be nice to his victims before he rips their throat out. You concede regardless, watery eyes clenched shut while you nod furiously.
He slides his hand from your mouth down to your neck. You swallow. “What– what do you want, Bakugou?”
“What’s going on with you and him?”
You shake your head slightly, the veil of confusion clouding your eyes. He murmurs something frustrated-sounding. Your lips just barely form “who?” when he growls.
“That fuckin’ nerd,” he hisses, and you feel his chest against your back, rising and falling with a vengeance. “What’d he say to you?”
Suddenly this all makes sense. You were just some unfortunate byproduct of the Dynamight-Deku rivalry, and you were going to get hurt because of Dynamight’s anger issues.
“It’s not your fucking business,” you scoff. But his grip on your neck tightens for a moment, then releases its pressure.
“It is,” he starts, voice deep, “it is if it’s about you.”
You try to turn to look at his face, but you can’t move. “We just talked about your cologne. That’s it. I have some on me, if– if that’s why you’re angry. I won’t put it on again, I promise.”
He tenses. Then you feel shifting against you until a hair tickles your temple. Is he…? His lips ghost over your pulse, and it jumps. You feel a little sick with yourself for enjoying this.
“I’m not pissed,” he unintentionally murmurs into your ear, “you smell good.”
You lean into his grip. “Thanks. I’ve heard it smells like you.”
He smirks against your skin, the hand trapping you against him moving down to massage your hip. He’s almost a stranger, and yet… he rubs a thumb against the swell of your curves, feeling the silk robe slide and roll under it.
“The old hag didn’t care if you said yes. I did,” he admits. You get a little whiplash from the lust he was dragging you into, to this conversation.
“You wanted me to come?” you ask. “I guess you chose this stupid outfit, too? I’m cold, you know.”
He growls and moves his hand from your neck to your ribs. “I wanted you to come, yeah. But I didn’t choose the lingerie. I don’t know who did, but I might fuckin’ kill them for making you wear it.” He pauses. “You can change. They’ll answer to me if they have a problem with it.”
Your mouth quirks up, feeling the rising heat of his palms. “I think I’ll let you live with it for a little longer.”
He bares his teeth in a savage show of dark energy. He begins to grunt, “Like hell you will—”
But you’ve already slipped out of his hands and glided down the hallway.
—
The photographer had to be a pervert. You think that everyone must be somewhat of a pervert about Bakugou, but this was just excessive. They had him laying out, thighs spread across the loveseat. A king on his throne. Suddenly, the set choice made a whole lot more sense. He glares around the room with narrowed eyes, working his jaw. Something pissed him off, you can tell, and he’s about one wrong comment from blowing up the place. He shifts in place, hips lifting slightly. You avert your eyes from his figure.
He is sex personified, you decide. The hairstylists mussed his hair just right, accentuating his already sensual bad-boy look. Anyone who got to see that in the morning, his sleeping face framed by cozy morning sunlight and body bare to the world, is too lucky to be alive.
“Alright, you two! Let’s get this show on the road,” the photographer, a nondescript, slight man, shouts to the set. Apparently, they’d already taken the photos featuring the other Pros, and now it’s your turn.
If you shift a little to the left from your seat next to the camera, you can spot Freckles and the hairstylist bashful and hovering over a table of catered tea sandwiches. To the right, Kaminari throwing playful punches at Kirishima, even though he only comes up to his friend’s shoulder. And in front, the man who can’t seem to follow directions. It’s like he’s tuned out the photographers in exchange for full, vicious attention on you.
His intensity scares you, and also makes you wildly attracted to him.
“Y/N, do you mind standing in front of Mr. Dynamight?” the photographer asks.
You reply by sliding off your seat and settling yourself in front of Bakugou, face to face. Looking down at him like this, his red eyes trained on your chest, your face, your eyes, your everything, should feel dominant. And yet, you feel more hunted than ever. The side of his mouth rises, exposing a sharp canine.
“We’ll start off by taking some photos like this. Undress whenever you’re ready, Miss Y/N.”
You take a deep breath, chest stuttering. You feel intimidated. You’re having trouble holding Bakugou’s eye contact, not with him sitting like that. His expression is almost like a kid in a candy shop.
“Stop staring,” you hiss.
He hums, fingers tugging at the strings of your robe. “You won’t let me see, princess?”
“And stop calling me that.”
The bow unties and your robe falls open. He breathes in so quickly you think he might have gasped had his jaw not been clenched shut.
“Fuck, I can’t believe you’re gonna be on camera like this.” His hand pulls back a flap of the robe.
Heat crawls up your neck and you swat at him. “This is normal, you asshole. I’m a model!”
He nods stiffly like he’s still not happy with it, and slides his hand inside the fabric to remove it from you.
“You’re gorgeous.”
The photographer interjects as the robe hits the floor and an assistant runs in to pick it up, “Alright! Y/N, could you please look back at the camera?”
You throw a smolder over your shoulder like you’ve been taught, ignoring Bakugou’s comment. The chattering behind the cameras hushes, and the photographer pumps his fist.
Lights flash.
The other standing poses are a blur, your focus stolen by the feeling of your partner’s strong, wide, heated hand running over your bare skin. On your waist, then your hips then your ass. You know you have to be professional, but you can’t help mentally thanking whoever chose this outfit for the extra bottom-half coverage.
You snap back to reality when the photographer instructs you to drop to your knees. Something about both power dynamics and photo composition flutters through the staff. But you do as told, sinking to your knees in front of the blond. You balance yourself on his knees, and they spread under your hands.
“God—” he grunts. His gaze darkens. The position is submissive, and he seems to be enjoying it. You think you might, too.
His fingers twitch from their place on his thighs, itching to push your hair back from your face so he can see you more clearly.
“Last photos, then lunch! Be natural, you two,” the photographer directs. “Like you’re seducing each other. Like a young, hot couple!”
You lay your head on his lap, face away from the camera. You understand your place in this photo; you’re the seductress, nothing more than decor.
“You’re not just a piece of furniture, princess,” Bakugou says roughly.
You raise your gaze up to him, smirking, and then turn your head sideways to the camera. He’s right. Dynamight may be an explosion, but you’re the smoke and rubble. Mysterious, destructive, and powerful. You slide a delicate palm up his thighs, expression venomous and viper-like.
His stomach tenses at your touch when you reach it, the faint smell of caramel beginning to permeate the air. You’re reminded that the thin shirt they put him in left nothing—really, nothing—to the imagination. You mentally swear at the feeling of his muscle (is that an eight-pack? can someone even have that many abs?) against your fingertips. This position is too much for magazines. Too much for an advertisement. Too much for any sort of public viewing. Too much for you.
