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#reporter x villain
yourheartonfire · 1 year
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Reporter finds out that their city's hero is corrupt, and they make it their goal to expose them to the public. Somehow they fall in love. (Can go plucky reporter who openly confronts Hero, or cautious reporter who knows a corrupt hero is dangerous, so they get close under false pretenses to find evidence.)
Prompt courtesy of @thepenultimateword
"Wait. No. What is...?" The reporter's throat had gone dry as sand. They slapped the composition book shut, thrust it back into the gold paper wrappings. But it was too late. Afterimages of dates and names and dizzyingly high sums danced before their eyes - all in the hero's own neat handwriting.
"It's the proof you wanted, darling," the hero said, a dreamy smile on their lips as they gazed at the reporter through the candlesticks. "All the money I've been extorting from our city's villains in exchange for turning a blind eye to their wrongdoing. Happy one year anniversary."
The reporter stared from the hero's face back down to the gift, so beautifully wrapped. They had gotten the hero designer sunglasses. "You knew," they said. It was meant to be a question but... no. This was not a surprise. Somewhere over the past year, this had become an inevitability. "You knew I was..."
"Investigating me? Seducing me?" The hero chuckled and rose. The reporter managed to quash their flinch as the hero picked up the reporter's empty plate, then their own. "Darling, I spend my life foiling schemes. Yes, of course I knew."
The reporter sat, flooded in an adrenaline rush so strong they wondered if they were having a heart attack. The door to the hero's penthouse apartment was forty feet behind their back. Their fingers itched to grab that notebook and run - but some survival instinct kept them frozen to their chair as the hero prowled the dishes off to the kitchen.
"So," the reporter said evenly. "You've just been... toying with me, this whole time?"
"Toying with you," the hero purred, returning to cock a hip against the table and give the reporter that half-feral smile they had only ever seen behind closed doors. God help them, the reporter felt themselves blush. "Yes. That's a good word. You decided you'd try to seduce your way into my confidence, to uncover my secrets. So..." The hero traced a finger along the reporter's temple, teasing a lock of hair out to run between their fingers. "...I set out to seduce you back. And you win."
The reporter blinked. "What."
"You win." The hero gave a fond little tug to their hair and then let go. "I've fallen in love with you. So."
"You cant love me! I'm here to expose you!" The reporter scrambled backwards, clutching the notebook to their chest as if the hero hadn't just handed it to them, literally gift wrapped. "You've been blackmailing villains!"
The hero shrugged without a blush of shame. "Only those who would have bought their way out of the justice system anyway. Why shouldn't I cut out the middleman and use their money for crime-fighting?"
"Crime-fighting? You're lining your pockets!" The reporter waved a hand wildly at their luxury surroundings as they backed away. "The food, the clothes, the whole lifestyle!"
"And I'm the last hero of my generation still standing," the hero said, calm and steady as they paced forward. "You think that's a coincidence? Or you think it's because you and I both know sometimes doing the right thing means bending a few rules along the way?"
The reporter stopped dead again. "What are you talking about?"
The hero's hand closed on the reporter's wrist and - yanked was too harsh a word. It was a pull and a spin, like the sun dragging a meteorite into its gravity well and suddenly the reporter was wrapped up in the hero's arms. In their lover's arms, their back pressed to the hero's chest.
"This," the hero hummed into the protagonist's ear, swaying them both to the soft music trickling from the hidden sound system. "A year of lies and blurred lines and compromises to get your story. Hardly the stuff of journalistic ethics seminars. What would your friends and colleagues say?"
"So it's blackmail," the reporter whispered.
"If that's what you want. We could destroy each other. Or..." The hero's mouth pressed to the sensitive spot on the reporter's neck. They almost melted. "Or we could see what happens next, with all our cards on the table."
"You can't be serious." The reporter jerked away. The hero let them go. "You want to keep dating?"
"Of course. You're gorgeous, clever, a little reckless, and you have that flexible morality thing. It's like you were made for me. Like we were made for each other." The hero gave them a once-over so blatant the reporter blushed again. But they didn't move to corner the reporter. "Go home, think about it. Take the notebook."
"You won't chase me?" the reporter said before they could stop themselves.
The hero's grin widened. "How about I give you a head start?"
The reporter fled to the sound of the hero's laughter rattling in their chest.
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iminkandpaper · 14 days
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Part 1
This will have a part 2 as soon as i get round to editing it
°•○
Hero was settling in for the night, turning on the TV with a cup of fresh coffee and newspaper when the news broke.
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Breaking: Investagative Crime Journalist missing
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Reporter, lead journalist last seen three days ago undercover at Businessman, Villain's nightclub before declared Missing
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TodayNews: Newscaster missing after Case Gone Wrong
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Hero slams his glass down. It can't be. She wouldn't. He had told Reporter not to investigate Villain - she was too young, it was too dangerous. She couldn't - she wouldn't go behind his back like this... would she?
"Trust me," he had said to her, "I know what I'm talking about."
"I'll do what I like, dad- I've been in worse situations thanks to you." That cut to the bone. She had gathered up the files and evidence then, leaving him with "I won't do anything too stupid. Don't worry."
He was stupid to have believed her.
She was as stubborn as her mother and determined as him and Hero could be nothing short of proud, angry as he was.
Now, pinching the bridge of his nose, Hero made an attempt at regulating his breathing.
It didn't work.
So he does what Hero does best: he suits up.
°•○
"Reporter."
She groans.
"Reporter."
She grumbles something about man-eating cupcakes and turns back onto her stomach. "Five more minutes."
"Sweetheart." Cold fingers trail up her naked spine to her neck, brushing against the curve of her ear and back down. "It's time to get up."
Reporter twists around, a smile forming on her face.
Villain moves her hair over her shoulder and leans down to rub his nose against hers. "It's past two in the afternoon."
"I don't care," she groans, arching up to kiss him - and despite the afternoon sun ricocheting off the crystal of his watch, he obliges her for a minute. Or two. Or three.
"No," he mumbles into her mouth, already pulling away, "no darling, not now."
"Then let me sleep."
Villain chuckles in response and straightens the cuffs Reporter had gripped and wrinkled. "Today we stage your return."
"Can't I just... stay?"
Villain laughs and reaches for her. "Hero is on his way. My spies have seen him gallivanting this way."
"You mean he's flying at top speed to the Nightclub." Reporter sits against the headboard, tucks the sheet artfully around her so that it covers enough to entice Villain. It works, because she watches the way his eyes darken at the move, his thumb coming up to rub against his bottom lip while he rakes his gaze over her.
"God, I love you."
She smiles. "I know."
"What kind of response is that?"
Her eyes crinkle into a bigger smile. "Your minions are adorable. Do you know one called me ma'am?"
"Was it Mick? Cury brown hair, shit eating grin - doesn't take anything seriously but he's really polite."
"I think so." Reporter looks down. "How are we going to do this?"
"We-"
Villain is cut short by a knock on the door. Mick pokes his head in, a deep blush colouring his cheeks and his eyes never leaving Villain, though it's strained in the way his eyes flick anywhere but to Reporter. She pulls the sheet up higher and hugs a pillow close to her.
"Hero is at the Club."
Villain's smile is all teeth. He looks at Reporter. "Shall we?"
°•○
Part 2
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Reporter x Villain Promts
Rain made the streets shine like an oil slick, any stars that could have been seen blocked by clouds. It was the perfect weather to describe Reporter’s mental state. This case had been wracking the brain for weeks, the string of seemingly unconnected robberies having a strange sort of familiarity surrounding them. The rest of the office might call them crazy, but their gut hadn’t led them astray so far. Thunder boomed outside, the flash of lighting giving Reporter a sense of clarity. Of course! How hadn’t they seen it before!? The missing piece… what they were looking for wasn’t in what was stolen, but rather when. Every piece of jewelry and every painting was stolen at exactly 10:45 PM. Why the time was special, they didn’t know, but all they knew was that it’d be 15 minutes until the next artifact would be stolen. Just enough time to hopefully catch whoever this was in the act.
 “You’re not Hero… Oh no, you’re new~” Villain’s voice was both questioning and intimidating, but Reporter stood their ground, heartbeat a flutter. So what if they weren’t the one that usually came to foil the villain’s plans, they had had a story to write and nothing was going to get in their way. Not even the, admittedly, very sharp knife poised at their throat. Villain tipped Reporter’s head up with the blade, an assessing gleam in their yellow eyes as a smile spread over chapped lips. “You’re a brave one little birdie, aren’t you~”
“An Interview?” to say Villain was shocked would be an understatement. They still had no idea how this reporter had managed to get in their lair, but that was overshadowed by their question. “Yes, an interview. Listen Villain, I’ve got this story coming along and I just know that get a first hand account from ah…. The other side of the playing field will give me an edge over Jessie. Only one of us can get that promotion and I’ll be damned if it isn’t me. Capiche?” Villain could tell they were scared, eyes darting around the base that they’d have to torch after this, but wasn’t bravery doing something even though you’re scared? After all, it had been a while since they had been able to tell their side of the story. “You’re on.”
these are just prompts, so feel free the add onto them if you wish, put please credit me - Mox from Nowhere
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When Danny enters the Fenton portal for the very first time, he still trips and shocks himself but at the same time damages the inside of the portal enough that it can’t sustain itself past the point of changing Danny’s molecules.
The electricity and damage done to both Danny and the portal isn’t something Danny, Sam, and Tucker can cover up and his parents find out immediately. They’re more concerned about their son then the portal (they have the blueprints for the portal and can rebuild it later but can’t replace their son if something happened to him) and go through a lot of things emotions regarding the existence of ghost human hybrids.
Danny’s new biology could easily be passed as meta human traits. Unfortunately President Lex Luther had just recently passed laws against meta humans. Meaning they can’t risk people find out about Danny’s new powers, at all. The Fentons decide that Danny should live with one of Maddie or Jacks relatives off grid until he can control his new abilities better.
luckily Jacks sister, Martha, and her husband have experience with a super powered child and after their son moved to the city could probably use a hand on their farm. All Jack needed to do was call.
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tanglepelt · 1 year
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Dc x dp idea 18
Ghost are the embodiment of what they represent. An example skulker is the embodiment of hunting. Without skulker no one could hunt. It just doesn’t exist anymore.
In this a dc villain captures amorpho in order to find out hero’s identities. The villain has to figure out how to utilize amorpho. He’s only managed to trap him using tech from the fentons.
Danny cannot find him amorpho in time. The villain manages to take away disguise from everyone but himself. For Danny it’s not as big of a problem as it is for every other hero.
Danny has two whole separate identities not so much a disguise. (He transforms not just throws on a mask. Same would apply to captain marvel)
This leads to a pre teen and a teenager both pretending to be mature trying to find amorpho. They both have no idea what there doing.
After a bunch of nonsense they free amorpho. Disguises now exist again.
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thepenultimateword · 1 year
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Thoughts on prompts of villain or hero with a journalist? I see a lot of them with enemy, sidekick, henchman but never with someone working in the media like a journalist, maybe a photograph or a cameraman caught in the action
Ooo, I like it! If you want any recommendations for snippets, I do know a few hero/villain x reporter stories :) But for now: prompts!
1. Hero tabloids are the big leagues of reporting, and Reporter knows if they can just get one unique interview with a hero they’ll make their big break. But, when they can’t pin down any heroes, Villain, who has a long-time secret crush on Reporter, falsifies a hero identity to help them out.
2. Reporter find out that their city's hero is corrupt, and they make it their goal to expose them to the public. Somehow they fall in love. (Can go plucky reporter who openly confronts Hero, or cautious reporter who knows a corrupt hero is dangerous, so they get close under false pretenses to find evidence.)
3. Reporter goes undercover as a henchman to get the inside scoop of Villain's latest plots.
4. Reporter is one of the most successful hero writers in the business, but they have had a secret crush on Villain for years. Unfortunately, they're too entrenched in their hero brand to write about villains. Even so, maybe they can still find a way to get Villain's attention.
5. Cameraman keeps getting in trouble for choosing the wrong photo subject. They're supposed to be taking pictures of Hero, but they can't stop taking pictures of Sidekick instead. (Could also be Villain instead)
6. Cameraman takes a picture at the wrong time and accidentally ends up with crucial evidence against Villain/Hero. They now must rely on Hero/Villain for protection.
7. When Reporter is about to be caught trespassing on Villain/Supervillain's territory, Henchman decides to hide them/cover for them.
8. Reporter gets a private tour of the hero headquarters, but when they sneak away from their guide and delve into the top-secret areas, what they end up seeing could cost them their lives.
9. Despite their great power and dangerous reputation, Hero is actually a fluffy cinnamon roll. Tough-as-nails Reporter only finds this out after an aggressive interview and a very rude article about what they incorrectly assumed was careless, egoistic behavior. Now they feel obligated to buy them an apology lunch.
10. Cameraman is supposed to be taking photos of the gala, but Hero/Villain keeps photobombing their pictures. They refuse to admit that they find it cute.
11. Civilian wanted to be a reporter but because of their power they are pressured into the hero agency. With the passion to be nosy and write still strong, they start an anonymous gossip blog about the heroes in the league.
12. Villain is framed for a crime they didn’t commit and Reporter has proof. But with the greatest villain in the city suddenly in the palm of their hand, Reporter doesn’t plan on giving up that evidence out of the kindness of their heart.
13. Reporter/Cameraman gets too close and is caught in the crossfire of a big hero and villain fight. Hero/Villain takes them home to tend to their wounds.
14. When Hero is viciously beat down by Villain, Reporter ends up stepping in to protect them. They may not have impressive powers, but they don’t tolerate bullies.
15. Hero/Villain catches Reporter tailing them and decides to have some fun, turns out Reporter is way better at flustering them than the other way around.
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hii! it's me again🌷🌷
well, this night i had a dream where supervillain broke into the heroes lair and killed everyone but hero managed to escape and went to villain's house and it was like that "i didnt know where else to go" trope y'know, could you pretty please write something about this?? only if you want ofc!!!
hope you're doing well and happy birthdayyyyyy you're amazing!! <3<3
“I’m fine, I swear,” the hero said, eyebrows knit together. Aggravated, unfocused. The villain read them like an open book.
“You have just lived through a traumatic experience. You’re anything but fine,” the villain said. They stared down at the tea they had made for their nemesis. Sweet. The hero preferred sweet drinks. Would talk about coffee as if it was poison.
Smoothly, they let their eyes wander to the hero’s hand. Steady.
Hm.
They were trained incredibly well which shouldn’t have surprised the villain — heroes could be the coldest people on earth. Methodical, intelligent, calm. Who else could be capable of such a job?
A job that forced them fight others, payed them to be perfect, demanded to be obedient. No wonder most of them were just as fucked up as the villains they were fighting against.
“I’m a hero. My life consists of trauma,” they snapped but there was more to their usually cold tone.
“Ah, that’s why you’re so unpleasant.” The hero shot them an evil glare but stayed quiet. Without any other complaints, they picked up the cup of tea and drank slowly, carefully.
It was horrifying from what the villain had heard. In the middle of the night, the supervillain had attacked the lair, killing everyone but the hero. They weren’t wounded — thank god — but the villain knew they would have to deal with several symptoms of stress very soon.
The hero hadn’t been prepared to lose all their friends, despite the cold mask they put on, they had colleagues they got along with rather well. People they cared about. People worth protecting.
The villain exhaled audibly.
As of right now, the villain was the only one left for the hero and even though they were on opposite ends, had other values and morals, the villain saw how truly hurt the hero was. For a long time, the hero had had this little part in them that dipped them in darkness every now and then. And every time the villain noticed (they couldn’t deny it at this point) they pushed them to the light again.
They knew what hatred did to a person.
“When I was young,” the villain said, “like five years old, my mentors would lock me up in a tiny room with a body.”
The hero stared at them, eyes widened, horror reflecting. They nearly choked on their tea.
“What?”
“They locked me up with a dead body. Three times a week, maybe? I’d forgotten it, actually. Until I looked through my own file a few months ago.”
“Didn’t you kill your mentors?”
“I did,” the villain said. They let themselves fall onto the lavish couch as their own eyes bored into the red carpet under their feet. “I buried that for a long time. Made my performance suck.”
The hero stared into their drink. Bait swallowed.
Manipulation was something the villain found useful. Whether it was for their own secret goals or to simply destroy each other — it was an intriguing tool in their arsenal.
The story was true but the intention behind could’ve been considered cruel. Opening themselves to the hero, being vulnerable was a very important step towards gaining someone’s trust.
They felt bad and truly despicable but if they got the hero to talk about it, if they had the chance to find someone to trust, then maybe the villain could find peace on their own.
All the damage they had done wouldn’t be forgotten by one good deed. But helping the hero could make them feel a little more…human again.
“I’m not forcing you to tell me anything,” the villain said. “But carrying around all this stuff on your own doesn’t make you a better hero.”
It was sad to the villain that ambition was most likely to be this hero’s downfall.
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finch-the-foolish · 3 months
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A story based on @black-rose-events's recent prompt list! This one is day two, because I forgot a) February has in fact kicked off, and b) we are two days in.
Tw/Cw for death, murder, and guns
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Reporter stared at the papers they'd found in Detective’s office, illuminated by the soft, yellowed glow of his lamp. It was dark outside, by now, the clock on the wall keeping a steady pulse as Reporter read. This.. this was big. Evidence for every murder they'd been tracking, lists of names struck through in red, pictures of faces that had been painted in the news weeks earlier. The dead. Those responsible. At least, that's how it had seemed.
Until now. There was more blood than just that of the convicted on Detective’s hands, and they couldn't let that go now. Was being here technically illegal? Most likely. Was what Detective had done the same? Absolutely. They had to get this to headquarters. They had to let the authorities know. They had to-
Reporter looked up, eyes wide against a shock of darkness as the door opened.
“[Reporter]. Fancy seeing you here. What brings you to my office? My desks? My documents?” Detective tilted his head, one hand silently shutting the door, locking it with a soft click.
Reporter drew in a breath, clamping down on the panic clawing at their ribs. “I'm here investigating everything you've done, [Detective]. If that even is your name.”
They stood, still clutching the paper they'd been reading, and Detective approached closer, gait still as nonchalant as ever.
Detective smiled. “What I've done? What might that be? Help the people? End countless villains?”
“Innocent lives,” Reporter snapped back. “They were innocents, and you know that damn well. It's all here. And I'm not letting you get away with any of it.”
His smile only widened, a sharp thing, malicious, painted hauntingly by the lamp's glow, as he leaned against the desk.
“Really? All the evidence? How.. fortunate.” Detective glanced down at the papers, before returning his gaze to Reporter. They could barely resist the urge to shudder, to flee, before they too found a knife in their back, a bullet in their chest.
Steeling their gaze, they nodded. “Everything I need to make sure you never hurt anyone again. Is that clear enough for you?”
Detective paused for a moment, a laugh filling the empty space, far too light, far too familiar for it to be that of a murderer. Detective of all people. He reached forwards, grabbing Reporter’s shoulder with a shockingly strong grip, pulling them forwards to the desk.
“Now, [Reporter], my dear friend, I have a story for you. A.. piece of information, if you will.” His voice was low, fringes of that friendliness Reporter had so long known creeping back with the words.
“A.. a story?” they asked, voice shaking. That same, awful smile, a face they almost knew, a grin they could almost see against the daylight, against everything they'd known.
Then his Voice hushed, his grasp loosening against their jacket.
“You're right.”
Metal pressed against their stomach, cold turning harsh, burning, as pain ripped through their senses and skin alike. Reporter screamed, the sound cut off as that same blinding agony cut through the air, their intestines, sending them stumbling back to the wall behind. They crumpled, crimson staining the bookshelves at their back, their clothes nearly masking the shade.
Detective stared at them, face still twisted with some strange, wretched joy. “It was lovely working with you, [Reporter]. You were always my favourite. I pray the others can solve your unfortunate demise.”
Then, hands steady, he raised the gun to Reporter’s gaze. And, smiling, he pulled the trigger.
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yngai · 4 months
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what i like about ada's report, & i'll get into it more eventually, is that despite it being ada explaining the plot (& her motivations) to you directly, it presents an interesting relationship between ada, a known liar & manipulator, & the audience. while she withholds information from other characters & skirts about on mystery throughout RE4 & separate ways, there is one person to whom she doesn't lie, to whom she does tell the truth, at least a part of it, & that is you, the player. it is a very neat narrative device that wouldn't work as well in a different medium
#* file // : OOC — ( 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐀𝐃𝐄 . )#not that anyone's actually fucking read ada's report people still think ada was saving leon out of love#in direct opposition to wesker's orders in the original re4#i wish this didn't make me mad but it does it's right there in plain english the nikita pose is a misdirection#it's subverting the trope she's part of a bigger conspiracy leon is a necessary piece of her mission#like the subversion of the femme fatale isn't subtle#they either die or are undone upon reveal of their treachery ada survives & lives beyond the logical endpoint of her character#she isn't weakened or completely changed in fact she learns how to manipulate the hero better for their next encounter#she isn't working for the villain both in that she tells you that she's only been pretending to this whole time#& that she works for another organization that's been spying on wesker through ada this whole time#but also the fact that wesker is neither the villain of re4 nor resident evil as a franchise he is another cog in the machine#just another one of umbrella's leftovers#see i know people think ada despises chris because he mistook her for carla one time on the tanker#but i think they've got a lot more in common than either is truly willing to admit should they actually ever speak to each other#i just think it's neat that she gets his line addressed to wesker to use on mr. x (just another one of umbrella's failed experiments)#darkside chronicles & re5 were developed around the same time i'm sure it's a coincidence
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navree · 10 months
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vicki vale and deathstroke and task force x all set to be in at least one episode of my adventures with superman? one cannot help but wonder.......
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artemismoorea03 · 4 months
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DP x DC Prompt: The New Teacher
(So, I've seen a lot of prompts that have Danny go to Gotham and be a teacher but I don't remember seeing any with it in this direction, so on the chance that this is an original idea here we go!)
Jason was given a choice, or multiple choices. Babysit the Replacement on a mission that could last a week, go to Bludhaven and have some 'brother bonding time' with Dick who needed backup on a big case, or take a temp solo-gig in a tiny town in the middle of nowhere called Amity Park.
Well, considering he was still a bit hurt about the fact that B replaced him all those years ago and the pit loved to grab hold of that bit of frustrations towards his younger brother, that didn't seem like a smart idea. Dick wasn't an option either because he knew that would lead to 'talking about feelings' and other shit that he didn't want to do.
So he took the solo-gig.
It was supposed to be easy, at least that's what had been implied by the others he'd spoken to about the case. It seemed like most of the Justice League thought this situation was being 'exaggerated' because most of the time when somebody checked out what was going on there was nothing happening. No big take over, or kidnapping, or 'end of the world' situation, but there had been too many calls to put Bruce's mind at ease. The frequent calls mixed with the fact that the Government apparently had the area under a 'black out' made Bruce even more nervous.
Hell, if it hadn't been for the fact that Bruce was famous and that Scarecrow, Penguin and Riddler had all escaped from Arkham he would have been doing the case himself.
Which is how Jason ended up in a restraunt named 'Nasty Burger' looking at the news papers he had managed to get from a stand down the street while taking notes of things he had already seen. It wasn't just that the Government had cut them off, all of the tech in the city was easily 20 years outdated compared to the rest of the world.
Nokia phones, chunky computers, hell he'd even seen a kid with a PDA of all things. Thankfully, it looked like his tech still worked other than running slower than it should have, but thanks to modifications made by Barbara and Tim things were running better than he expected. But, they did struggle to have access to anything, specifically the news.
Hence the paper.
Ghost Boy: Friend or Fiend. A new vote cast by the city has found that the Ghost Boy - Danny Phantom - has had an astounding rise in support after the events over the Christmas Holiday. The new polls suggest that 43% of Citizens support Danny Phantom, with the majority of his support coming from the students at Casper High who insist that Phantom is a hero who has saved them countless times over the past few months. 49% of people still agree, however, that Phantom appears to be at the center of the majority of the attacks with many still claiming that he is the sole cause of the attacks. However, 8% of the population remain undecided, including many teachers, police and hospital staff. Upon seeing the new results of the pole Mayor Montez had this to say; "While I will admit that Phantom appears to favor the younger generation and frequently seems to come to their aid, we cannot forget what it has done in the past. Taken hostages, injured innocents, and caused millions in property damage. Phantom may not be a 'villain' in the typical sense of the word, but we shouldn't blindly trust him just because of a few good deeds."
So there was a... hero? Half hero - potentially villain - in Amity Park? That might have explained some of the calls they'd gotten from Amity park over the past few months. Still, he was concerned by some parts of the report.
Students at a high school were frequently coming under attack? So much that this potential-villain kept saving them? Just what was the cause? What could cause so many issues?
Jason looked up as he saw that same PDA kid talking with a girl with short black hair in a half-ponytail who was wearing a black crop-top. The girl seemed annoyed while the boy seemed worried about something.
"But it's Vlad, Sam... what if he does something?" He heard the boy whisper, "We should go back him up..."
"He doesn't need our help, besides Jazz ran away from home, remember? She got herself into this mess it's her problem to get out of it. Something that Danny should have learned a long time ago."
Jason frowned, pretending not to hear them as he hesitated then got up and walked over to the two younger teens. "Hey, excuse me."
The girl looked annoyed and suspicious while the boy looked confused.
"Uh, yeah?" Tucker asked.
"Hey, sorry to bug you both. But could you guys tell me about this... 'Danny Phantom' person?" He asked, holding the newspaper out.
The girl looked even more suspicious, "And... who are you?"
"And how haven't you heard of Phantom?" Asked the boy.
"I just moved to town." Jason admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "So, I'm just trying to catch up on all the town drama."
"You moved to Amity Park... willingly? Psh, what do you have, a deathwish?" The girl grumbled.
"Come on, I just moved from Gotham, which is worse?"
The girl blinked as the boy laughed.
"Furries vs Ghosts, who will win~" He said as the girl elbowed him. "Ow! What?!"
"Danny Phantom is a hero." The girl explained, "He showed up in April and has been protecting the town since."
"A hero, huh? Could always use more of those in the world, but the mayor seems to have it out for him."
Tucker sighed, "No kidding, man. Somebody framed Phantom for something really bad and no matter what he does to try to fix it the city just see's that incident as the only thing he's ever done. It was the first big 'public thing' outside of the high school so it was huge but it wasn't his fault."
The girl reached for her phone suddenly, looking at it before she answered. "Hey, Danny. What's up?" She was quiet for a moment, "Yeah, we're at Nasty Burger, wanna join us? Lunch on me?"
A quiet mumble came through the speaker before she smirked.
"I'll order for you then. Double or triple?"
More mumbles.
"Triple it is. See you soon." She said, then hung up. "Come on, Tuck, Danny is on his way for lunch."
"Hell yeah, see you later, dude." The boy said, then jogged off with the girl.
"A teacher? Yeah, it looks like there's some openings but why would you want to have your cover as a teacher?" Oracle asked as Jason sat in his hotel room, looking through the paper again.
"Most of the incidents seem to surround the High School, I want to see what's going on."
Oracle hummed, typing for a moment. "Alright, well as luck will have it, it looks like teachers are sparse at Amity High, at least from what I'm able to get using your connection... which is infuriatingly slow, by the way, are you sure you did it right?"
"I've done it a million times, of course I did it right."
Oracle grumbled, "Stupid Amity black-out. Okay, so you have options. Most of the teachers have fucked off so all of the teachers in Freshmen year switch around to cover lessons or do mixed lessons. For example the English teacher also teaches Math and the normal Math teacher also teaches Science. So it looks like you could have any position you want and the school would just shuffle around the teachers."
"You said English is taken, right?"
"Yep, the teacher is named William Lancer and he- oh... wait, he's on a leave of absence due to injuries he suffered over Christmas Break. Concussion, broken arm, and bruised ribs, he'll be out for a few weeks."
Jason smirked, "Perfect. Sign me up."
". . . Jason, the English and Math teacher... never thought I'd see the day. Alright, I'll type up your application, send it in and casually push it to the front of the line. You'll be official by the time Winter Break ends in a few days. So get studying."
"Sounds like a plan, but I'll be fine, I mean our family is crazy and i deal with criminals on a nightly basis. How hard could this assignment really be?"
He would regret asking that question by the end of his first day as an Amity High School teacher.
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tusks-and-claws · 11 months
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Cold Love/Hot Blood
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Miguel O’Hara x female reader
Summary: “Between teeth on a broken jaw/following a bloodtrail, frothing at the maw”
Miguel is struck with something that he’s never experienced before
Tags/warnings: smut (18+), oneshot, dubcon by way of pheromones, fingering, overstimulation, squirting, rough sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, size kink, feral Miguel, biting, marking, blood drinking, paralytic venom
Wordcount: 3k
Ao3 link here
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You opened your eyes, blinking at the soft light from the bleary haze. Wincing, you raised your hand to your head. It didn't necessarily hurt, but it definitely felt wrong. What had happened? You were on a mission. That's right. And it had been going so well, until… until the anomaly villain threw something at you and Miguel. What was it? It had such an awful smell to it. And, where was Miguel?
You traversed the rubble of the abandoned building you were in. You couldn't see him. You shouted out for him.
"Here, I'm here," you heard him from the distance. Following his voice, you found him under some pieces of sheetrock from a collapsed wall. He was pinching the bridge of his nose through his mask.
"Geez, Miguel, are you alright?"
"Been better." His voice sounded strained. "Got a transmission from Jess that she's got hands on the anomaly. We'll meet her back at HQ. You go on ahead of me."
"What? No, we have to-" you started grabbing at the rubble to pull it off of him. He caught your arm before you could keep lifting.
"Please," he said, trying to meet your eyes from behind his mask. "Just go."
"What the hell is going on, Miguel? You're not… you're not acting right. We have to get you out of here."
He brought his hands up, holding his head in frustration. "Please, just do it. Don't make me beg."
"LYLA, please check him," you said, the avatar popping up and saluting you.
"No, don't-!" He tried to catch her in the air but she evaded him.
"His heart rate is really elevated but he seems okay otherwise. I think he's being dramatic. I don't detect any major injuries," she reported. You thanked her and she disappeared.
You crouched down to where he was. "What's going on, Miguel?" Your tone was serious.
He tried to hold your gaze for a moment until he swore and looked away. "That bomb that the anomaly threw… it affected me in a way that it clearly didn't affect anyone else, alright? Are you happy now?"
You furrowed your brow. "I don't understand."
He sighed, his breath shaking ever so slightly. "Itwasapheromonebomb." He said it so quickly and quietly.
"...What?"
"It was a pheromone bomb. Just leave me here so I can wait it out. This is so shocking humiliating- I," he sighed again. "Don't make me explain any further."
You blushed, not sure what to say. But you couldn't leave him like that, half-buried and vulnerable. "Can I at least help you up…? I promise I won't make fun of you. I just can't leave you defenseless like this."
He seethed for a moment, considering your offer. "...Fine. Grab this stupid sheetrock."
You did so, lifting it off of him with some effort. He did his best to stand up quickly. Despite his best, though, you could see the source of his embarrassment. He had a rock hard erection, and a particularly desperate one, by the looks of it. It laid upward, reaching towards his abdomen and pushing up against the tight fabric of his suit, straining. The size of him was nothing short of impressive.
You turned your gaze pointedly towards the ground as he moved away from the pile of rubble. Don't react don't react don't react. Could you pretend like you didn't notice? Even though not noticing was impossible, even from a single glance? You swallowed a lump in your throat, your head swimming with unprofessional thoughts.
Miguel turned from you, crouching down, hissing out a slow breath. "Fuck, it's getting worse," he whispered to himself, his body starting to tremble.
You took a step closer, reaching a hand out to his shoulder.
"Your proximity isn't… isn't helping." He admitted without turning around.
You stopped, silently moving your hand away from him. Touching him would surely make things harder.
"Miguel, I don't think waiting it out is an option for you. You just said it was getting worse."
He swore under his breath to himself. "I didn't mean for you to hear that. This is- shock it- this is completely foreign to me. Never been hit by anything like this before, it's s-so intense."
You winced at that, you'd never heard his voice so pained. But, what was the other option? You shivered just to think about it, your body reacting in ways that surprised you. How could you possibly propose helping him without making him think less of you? Would he even want help from you? Across from you, he was in turmoil, on his hands and knees trying desperately to control his breathing.
“Miguel… how can I help you?” It was a foolish question, a loaded question.
“You know the answer,” he replied from over his shoulder, his tone cold. He cried out again. “I- I can’t- can’t do that to you.”
“What if I’m offering?” You asked, a little too quickly, pushing down your fear and embarrassment for even thinking such things.
He turned further to meet your eyes, though you still couldn’t see his from behind the mask. You didn’t even need to see his eyes, his body language was communicating perfectly on their behalf. His muscles were pent up and quivering. Every breath rocked his massive shoulders. “Why?”
You didn’t think he’d ask that question. You searched your brain for an answer. “Because it isn’t your fault. And I respect you enough that this won’t change my mind.”
His thoughts seemed to be diverting to his baser instincts, his voice becoming a growl. “Need you… to be sure. Don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”
“I’m sure,” you said.
In no time at all, he pounced, bringing you to the ground. He was on top of you, his taloned fingers caging in your wrists against the cracked concrete of the floor, your arms above your head. You landed with your legs apart and with him between them, his hips desperately close to yours. Your eyes widened at his feral energy, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. He brought his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling. His exhale was shaky. “You smell so good… always smelled so good.”
Your body grew hot upon hearing that. Always? Had he thought about you in that way before? You smiled to yourself as he nuzzled the nose of his masked face into your neck, his hot breath coming through and ghosting over your skin. You could feel his huge frame shaking around you. He brought his hips down to your pelvis, seemingly being as cautious as possible as he began to grind his hardened length against you. His breath quickened at the contact, and he met you again with fervor, stimulating himself on you. His cock was unbelievably hard and hot, the temperature of him coming through both of your suits to meet your skin and overwhelm you. The feeling of him against you was sending shivers down your spine, the pleasant pressure made even sweeter by the promise of more to come. He positioned himself on top of you in such a way that each rhythmic, grinding rock found your clit and teased it with clothed contact.
You moaned lightly, the sound of it causing him to growl into your neck. You lifted your hips up, meeting him with the same tempo so he could grind into you more thoroughly, your bodies now writhing in tandem. His heavy breathing became panting. "Need to… need to touch you." He picked up his head and released your wrists, one hand steadying himself on the concrete, the other reaching down eagerly.
You got the memo, quickly slipping the pants of your suit down and throwing them aside so he wouldn't rip them off for you. You had at least enough hindsight to know you couldn't go back to HQ looking so disheveled. He dismissed the gloves of his suit and retracted his talons as his fingers found you immediately, honing in on the wet heat of your sex. Two plunged inside as he loomed above you, his muscles shaking again as he wet his fingers with your arousal. You shook right alongside him, your reaction bodily, as your back arched and your legs closed instinctively to hold his hand in place and not let him go. His fingers hooked inside of you, already relentless.
"Soaked," he whispered, almost to himself. The word resonated with a deep, animalistic hunger. Without removing his fingers from your warmth, he sat back on his knees and used his free hand to pry your legs open. "Need to see," he said. He watched the length of his fingers disappear over and over. The large hand that kept your legs wide was squeezing the soft flesh of your inner thigh, and he seemed fixated on the way it was yielding to his rough touches. Nearly everyone was small compared to Miguel, but you… you were different. He had his hands on you, inside of you, the comparison was tangible. You were small, soft, and his. His mind swam with how he would take you, how he would sheath himself inside of you until he bottomed out, how he would desperately fill you with his hot cum and hold your hips up to keep any precious drops from leaking out. It took everything in him to not reach down and start rubbing his impatient cock through his suit, but his fevered brain convinced him to keep his free hand on your leg so he could watch you fall apart from his fingers alone.
He was delirious as your walls started to spasm around his fingers, white hot pleasure pooling in your core, threatening to overflow as he kept up his efforts. The constriction of your muscles bolstered him, and he began to go faster and harder, starting to overstimulate you. You threw your head back, hands wildly trying to grasp at something on the concrete floor but coming up short. He removed his hand from your throbbing sex to start teasing your clit with abandon, and you moaned as your body lifted up off the floor.
"H-holy shit, Miguel," you gasped out. "It's- it's so much."
His hand moved so fast against your swollen clit that you could hardly think. The feeling was electric, and your orgasm was dangerously close. Your legs started to shake and tried to close around him again, but he kept them forced open as he intently watched, his chest rising and falling with quick breaths. You came and it utterly racked you, your body shuddering as you cried out, hot liquid spewing from you and drenching Miguel's hand and forearm. You squirted on him, because of him. You thought you should be embarrassed, but he gave you no opportunity.
As your head just started to clear, he recalled his mask into the neck of his suit. You quietly gasped at unexpectedly seeing his face. So strong, angular, and handsome. His red eyes looked wild, his mouth was open, his fangs fully extended. He studied his hand, turning it over so the mess you made could catch the light. As it started to dry down on him, he brought the two fingers that had been inside of you up to his mouth, and he licked them both clean. You gaped at him, almost fully unable to process what was happening.
When he was finished, he turned his gaze from his fingers and back onto you, as you sat up on your elbows to watch him. You saw that his cock was still as hard as ever, still pushing to break free. As if reading your mind, he recalled that part of his suit too as he grabbed your legs and yanked you toward him. He rested his cock over your abdomen, once again reveling in just how much bigger than you he was. The hot weight of his manhood on your skin set you ablaze once more and you eagerly awaited him. He thrusted but without penetrating you, sliding himself over you and wetting his cock on your cum. His exhales quaked with anticipation until he could wait no longer. Even on his knees, he towered over you, and so he needed to tilt your hips up further so your entrance could meet the head of his leaking cock. He shifted his grip to your waist, holding firm as you steadied yourself on your elbows and looked to him with bated breath.
He slowly pushed his hips into you, his cock sinking deep into your pussy. The steady penetration had you reeling. You needed to feel him, all of him. Every inch, all at once. It felt like it took ages for him to finally reach the hilt, but when he did, he waited inside of you for a brief, merciful moment. You basked in the feeling of being so full, so complete. He began to pull himself out of you, leaving you cold and empty for a split second until he slammed his entire length back into you, repeating and repeating at an unwavering pace.
Each powerful thrust reached so deep inside of you that it was nearly painful. Immediately, the head of his cock found your cervix and was hitting it with each hard pump that Miguel delivered. Your eyelids grew heavy as your eyes began to roll back towards your skull. His onslaught was so thorough, every smack of his hips against your pelvis reverberating through every inch of your body. The overstimulation of when he fingerfucked you had carried over, and you were already close to losing control all over again. He felt it too, as he growled in response to your pulsating walls.
"This cunt…." He snarled through his fangs. "This cunt is mine."
"Yours," you moaned, meeting his words a little too quickly.
"Going to mark you… so everyone knows."
"Mark me, Miguel." You agreed, not quite realizing what he meant. He started to lay you down onto the ground without removing himself from you, continuing to fuck you in missionary as he brought his face down to the crook of your neck. Your pulse quickened with excitement. He opened his mouth, his breath making your skin somehow even warmer. You wished that you could've seen the flash of his fangs before what came next.
He bit down on you, hard, and you could feel the course of his venom like molten lava through your veins. When the searing heat reached its crest, a soothing wash of warmth followed in its wake, leaving your muscles loosened and relaxed. Blood started to drip down your shoulder, the wet trickle quickly cooling as it made contact with the atmosphere. Miguel stayed latched to you as his tongue met your skin, lapping at the red stream, determined to consume it all.
You submitted to him fully, allowing him to position you how he saw fit so he could fulfill his feral need. His strong hands snaked around your torso to your back, lifting you up with him as he rocked back onto his knees. He helped you to swing your legs around his slim waist and to drape your arms over his huge shoulders. You let your face settle against his neck, the clean musky smell of him overwhelming your senses. His hands found your hips and he effortlessly lifted you up and down on his cock, fucking himself with your pussy like you weighed nothing at all. You moaned into him as you clenched around his cock, your limp body succumbing to the overpowering feeling of him. You started to shudder as your orgasm claimed you with a white-knuckled grip. You whined into Miguel's neck as it hit you with shock after shock, your vision going spotty while your cunt tightened around him.  
He couldn't hold it any longer, and his cock jerked inside of you as he came. You were still getting hit with aftershocks of your own climax, your muscles bearing down to milk every drop of cum that he filled you with. He held you closer and he thrusted himself as far into you as he possibly could, instinctively trying to make sure as little seed would have the chance to leak out of you as possible.
Your muscle control started to slowly come back to you as you and Miguel were chest-to-chest, both of you sweating and heaving. You weakly raised your arms so your hands could tangle with the hair at the nape of his neck. You lingered there for a bit, his strong arms holding you in the place as you played with soft locks of chocolate hair. You finally leaned back to see clarity slowly returning to Miguel's expression, and he looked utterly mortified. He held your gaze as he turned red, removing one hand from your body so he could cover his face.
"Oh my God," he whispered. "What the shock came over me?"
You were struck with sudden fear. "Do you… not remember?" The fact that he was still buried inside you should've been a dead giveaway.
"No, I do," he said, nervously. "I remember getting hit with that stupid bomb, and you helping me, then me wanting to split you in half."
You couldn't help but giggle at that.
"I tried to make sure I wasn't too rough with you. I was still in there, the whole time," he said, taking his hand away from his face to smooth your hair. He stopped when he reached your neck, seeing the bite marks he left. "Guess I didn't do all that well, did I?"
"It's fine. I can take it."
"Clearly," he said, raising his eyebrows, mildly impressed. "Thank you. I… don't know what I would have gone through if you hadn't been so… generous. But… for God’s sake, let’s not go around telling people what happened. We have reputations.”
You agreed, the secret safe between the two of you, the puncture wounds on your neck a silent souvenir.
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shotoh · 1 year
Text
all mine
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SYNOPSIS: Bakugou decides to put his delusional secretary in their place.
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pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader
word count: 9.6k+
genre: fluff, SMUT, maybe a smidgen of angst
tags/warnings: 18+! minors dni! reader is not the secretary, basically this other lady is trying to seduce your man but katsuki isn’t falling for it! marking, exhibitionism, oral (f!receiving), riding, soft!bakugou but also mean!bakugou, humiliation (not really at reader), a couple spanks, office sex, praise, degradation, pet names (baby, princess, angel), crude language
author’s notes: this is very overdue, like incredibly overdue LOL i started this wip last year but could only continue writing during random bouts of inspiration. so i apologize if the smut is a little half-assed and if the characterization is questionable. but enjoy my late kinktober 2022 present to y’all 
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The sound of Dynamight’s heavy boots hitting the floor resonate throughout the wide hallways of his agency, drowning out the heels clicking behind him. A woman quickens her pace in an attempt to catch up to the impatient blond hero, rushing into his peripheral vision.
“Sir? Oh Bakugou sir~” The dulcet chime calling him is sickly sweet, enough to make him grimace. “I need you to look over these reports before I file them away.” She whips out one of the thick packets of papers clutch to her chest, bringing his steps to a halt which makes the hero point a glare at her.
“How many times do I have to fucking tell you that you’re suppose to call me by my hero name.” Malice coats his words, dripping off his tongue as he swipes the reports from her fingers. The woman, to the hero’s annoyance, indulges in his feisty attitude.
“Aw, but ‘Bakugou’ is more fitting given how closely we work together!” She waves off his displeasure, hoping her excessively cheerful personality can tone him down. “I am your secretary, after all.” She leans into his space, too damn close for his liking by how he could get a whiff of her pungent perfume. The overbearing scent has him side-stepping to create more distance between them.
The blond rolls his eyes before giving the papers in his hand a once-over, not even granting her the satisfaction of eye contact. “You work at a Pro-Hero agency, not some ordinary office job.”
Normally, he isn’t one to admonish any of his employees unless they’re his sidekicks. He’s always out and about on missions, never dawdling around the office long enough to find anything to scold them about. So long as they were competent at their job, he never had to give them any earfuls. But this woman here has been testing that resolve.
A month into her new position, his secretary has been greeting him every morning with far more energy than should be considered possible at such an hour. Her regular tasks shouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary. She was mostly tasked with filing villain reports and contacting other Pro-Hero agencies, but her enthusiasm warrants him to think otherwise.
She deliberately shares elevator rides with him, droning on and on about god knows what before getting off at her floor, ending their dull conversations with winks and wide-eyed smiles that make him want to gag. It’s one thing to be genuinely excited about your job, but it’s another thing to be attached to your boss at the hip. She’s at his beck and call when he doesn’t even ask for her.
One can chalk this up to her simply gunning for a promotion, buttering up her boss to garner his favor. However, Bakugou isn’t an idiot. He can read the air, deciphering the meaning behind her words and advances. Her deceptive guise of a hardworking secretary beneath those batting eyelashes is easily uncovered by him.
If she was really trying so hard for a promotion she’d approach him with more important topics in mind. Statistics, analysis, updates on villain activity and hero work. Y’know, discussions that would actually benefit his agency rather than waste his time.
Instead, Bakugou stands there listening to… this.
“You know, I’ve been thinking,” her voice drifts off as she taps a finger against her bottom lip pensively, “we should consider holding a party to get to know all our co-workers better!” she proposes. The blond narrows his brows incredulously at her suggestion.
Oblivious to his lack of interest, she moves closer to him, caressing a hand along his hard bicep. She tip-toes her fingers up his arm before flattening her digits next to his ear to whisper, “Company members only, of course. But I’m sure we’d still have a fun time even if it was just the two of us, right?”
Recognizing the suggestive lilt in her tone, he shoves her off of him without even touching her, abruptly tossing his shoulder back. The secretary freezes and comes across the peeved expression on the explosion hero’s rough features.
“We’re here to beat villains and protect civilians, not throw dumb parties.”
“But–”
“Shut it,” he retorts harshly, not letting the bewildered look on the secretary’s face demur him. He shoves the reports back in her arms. “Just do your damn job.” With his brows taut behind his mask, the blond glares hard at her, watching her fumble with the papers before he resumes the rhythm of his combat boots stepping down the hallway. The hero gives her one last glance over his shoulder.
“And remember, it’s Dynamight to you.”
.
.
Man, what an annoying woman.
Is the thought that plagues Bakugou’s mind as he stands beneath the running water in his shower, washing away the sweat and grime accumulated from another busy day of heroics. Yet he still can’t get the irritating thoughts in his head to do the same.
His fingers weave the shampoo through his spikey locks, the pads of his digits massaging his scalp. Glancing at his reflection in the foggy, glass screen door, he meets his scowling mug.
“Tryna get in my pants and shit… Worry about keeping your damn job,” he grumbles to himself exasperatedly. What he finds especially annoying is knowing his secretary will start the day again tomorrow as if nothing happened. Even with Bakugou’s firm stance at wanting to keep things strictly professional, she’s going to continue getting up in his space, trying to caress her nails up his arm, and stink up the place with what he swore was five different kinds of perfume sprayed on her clothes.
But Bakugou’s not some oblivious fool. He can recognize from a mile away what her goal is and he absolutely wants no part in it.
Besides...
“Katsuki! Dinner will be ready when you’re done showering!”
His head swivels toward the door of the bathroom. “Yeah I heard ya!”
He’s already got someone deserving of his time and affection.
You.
“’Kay!” you reply, voice gradually growing louder. Bakugou hears your feet plodding toward the bathroom door just as the door creaks open slightly. “I’ll leave you a new towel to use after you’re done showering, too.” Even through the steam, he can recognize your silhouette peeking inside to drop the towel off. Unbeknownst to you, behind the cloudy glass door of the shower there’s a smile that finds his lips.
After washing the lather off his hair and body, he shuts the water. The last streams falling from the showerhead glide down his skin, joining the suds on the floor before they all disappear down the drain. As the thick steam surrounding him dissipates, he covers his toned body in the towel you left for him.
While patting down the excess droplets cascading his blond locks, Bakugou puts on some sweatpants, but forgoes his t-shirt for now, leaving it hanging over his shoulder. He continues rubbing the towel around his torso as he exits the bathroom.
The savory aroma of thick cheeses and tomato sauces hits Bakugou’s nose the moment he enters the kitchen. He stops in his tracks to take in the pleasant smells, along with the sight in front of his eyes that effortlessly forms a grin on his face.
Your soft hums accompany the harmonious atmosphere of the kitchen. Bakugou’s ruby eyes rove over you shimmying your way around an array of pans and plates like you own the place (which you essentially do), watching you finish piecing your dinner together with a generous sprinkle of garnish and spices.
Eyes never leaving you, an expression of admiration and fondness paints his usually hardened face. With arms crossed over his chest, he could just stand there, admire you, and be more than wholly content. You could do the most mundane things and still have him wrapped around your finger—not that he’d ever mention that to you out loud of course. Occasionally, Bakugou wonders how he ever got so lucky with you in the first place.
You’re so blissfully unaware of your hotheaded boyfriend lurking nearby. It’s all the more apparent by how you abruptly pause as soon as you discover him idling in the kitchen doorway in all of his half-naked glory.
The blond doesn’t let the fact that you’re practically ogling his hard muscle slip past him, and definitely doesn’t miss your moment of hesitation before you avert your gaze, your cheeks growing hot. It brings a smirk to his face and his ego through the roof.
Bakugou tosses his towel and t-shirt somewhere off the side before coming to you. “What? Getting flustered or something, babe?” he taunts. His deep tone hovers next to your ear as his chest touches your back. His hands are on either side of you, trapping you against the counter.
“That fuckin’ hot that I got you this speechless?” His breath is so close to you, he just knows you have goosebumps trailing down your spine. He can tell by the heat swirling in your cheeks just how much he has an effect on you and he absolutely loves how easily he can get you flustered.
Though he can’t say he’s all but immune to your charms, either. He trails a calloused hand up your bare thigh and hips, giving your ass a firm squeeze through your booty shorts which causes a yelp to flee your lips.
Fuckin’ hell.
The way you were dancing around in these things, tip-toeing to reach high cabinets that caused the shorts to ride up slightly and give him a glimpse of the plushness peeking past the fabric already had Bakugou half-hard simply standing behind you. But being able to touch what was essentially his started to make the material of his sweatpants absolutely suffocating.
In a single motion, he spins you around. Your back is pinned against the counter as you’re forced to face him. The cocky grin plastered on his lips greets you.
Finally grasping your composure, you raise an eyebrow at him. “For someone who wanted to take a shower as soon as their stinky-self got home, you sure are eager to get dirty again,” you retort, tracing your hands up his arms to place them on his broad shoulders. “Work didn’t get you sweaty enough?”
The blond chuckles lowly at your cheekiness. His face inches closer, mere centimeters away from your lips. “I could go for an extra workout,” he says huskily, voice dissipating with the shortening distance between you.
His eyes are lidded as he targets your lips, hands leaving the edge of the counter in favor of wrapping his arms around your waist. To his surprise, when he darts forward he meets nothing but air.
Hearing your giggles beside him breaks the tension between you. He opens his eyes and discovers that you’ve tilted your head out of the way. Before he can open his mouth to spit a retort, you rest your head against his shoulder, arms winding at his neck.
“Food’s gonna get cold, big boy,” you hum.
The noise that leaves his gritted teeth is practically a growl. “Dun care about the food–” His hands at your sides play with the waistband of your shorts. “Would rather eat you out on this counter.”
He watches you gulp down the lump in your throat, finding the idea tempting as a dull throb aches between your legs. But to his dismay, you don’t want to let him indulge in you just yet.
You lean forward to kiss his cheek to prepare him for your next words, “First and foremost, dinner. And then I'll let you do whatever you want with me. How’s that?” You tiptoe to peck his nose one more time for good measure before wriggling free from his clutches. You shuffle away to the steaming hot food you left on the other end of the counter.
Pink swathes his cheeks as Bakugou stands there dumbfounded. He rubs the back of his head, his brows furrowing in frustration.
“You’re killing me here, dammit.”
You let out another dulcet giggle. The urge to sneak up on you again to try to get you all hot and bothered lingers until it’s interrupted by a piece of fabric thrown in his face. “Also, shirt on we please.” You turn back at him with two plates of stuffed ravioli perched on each hand. “No shirt, no service.”
He yanks the white t-shirt off his face, grimacing as he begrudgingly pulls it over his head. “Yeah, yeah. You love it though.” Nonetheless, he follows behind you while the savory aroma of your food creates a path toward the dining table. The scent alone makes his stomach growl, the effects of a long day at work making themselves apparent.
Despite the antics he has to put up with, he can’t help but soften around you. It’s as if you possess an innate ability to effortlessly get him to shed his notoriously rough exterior.
He takes a seat on his side of the table, his stomach now growling loud enough for you to hear. You tease a wry grin before placing the ravioli dishes on the table, letting the delicious aromas waft around him, his mouth watering.
“I know it’s been a long day for you so you better eat up, hero.”
The blond’s eyes flicker for a second, chest enveloped with pride as he meets the look on your face that awaits for him in anticipation to dig in. “Yeah… Thanks for the meal,” he murmurs, mild gratitude woven in his words as he picks up the fork and finally chows down.
Again, what did he ever do to deserve you? He knows how hard you work each and every day. The fact that you’re still willing to love and take care of him is enough for him to want to cherish you for an eternity. Coming home to the person he loves and sharing meals with them is a blessing to him as it is and he absolutely wouldn’t trade this for anything else.
Which just makes the matter of his secretary all the more annoying to him.
The damn woman has walked in his office plenty of times to see the framed picture of you two on his desk, even occasionally interrupting his phone calls with you that would end with him mouthing low “love yous” before he’d have to turn around to acknowledge the petty expression resting on her face. He’d watch as her demeanor quickly shifted into a full 180—from a bitter frown to a forced grin to keep up her facade. She definitely knows he’s in a happy, committed relationship. The real question is whether or not she cares enough to acknowledge the fact.
He could just fire her for unprofessionalism. That seems like an obvious solution, but knowing her, she’d probably feed the media some false rumors about alleged abuse towards his employees. Of course, that wouldn’t at all be true. Far from it, but the news loved to twist the truth so long as it got them clicks. Given Bakugou’s naturally rugged demeanor, it wouldn’t be hard for the public to buy their shit and for his ranking on the hero chart to plummet. Which Bakugou could not afford right now considering how close he was to the top.
“’Tsuki, stop playing with your food.” He hears you chide, tugging him from his contemplation.
Bakugou huffs, jamming his fork onto the plate. “I’m not a damn kid.”
“Right, tell that to the ravioli you’re mangling with your fork.” You raise your brow and point at his stabbed and defeated pasta, the filling oozing out from the punctured holes. He keeps his gaze suspiciously fixed on the ravioli.
Does it taste bad? You wonder warily. “If you don’t like it then you don’t have to eat it, y’know.”
“What? No– The food’s fine.” He stuffs three pastas in his mouth one after the other. “Fucking delicious,” he mutters through ungracious chewing, cheeks puffed profusely, bringing a grin to your face.
“What’s wrong then? Bad day at work?”
He swallows his food. “Could say that,” he answers, resting his head against his propped arm. “Just some employee causing trouble.”
“Hopefully it’s not one of your sidekicks,” you pick at the raviolis while stuck in your musing, “I remember your first batch of recruits when you just started your own agency. You nearly scared half of them away by the end of the week.”
“How else was I supposed to whip those newbies into shape?” He lounges in his seat. “If they can’t take some yelling from a Pro, then they’re definitely not ready for the real hero world. Besides, they were the ones that came to my agency knowing that I’m the best,” he boasts with confidence, shoving more pasta in his mouth, and munching at his leisure.
“Also, it’s not a sidekick. Just some lady who can’t do her fuckin’ job.”
“Aw, cut her some slack, I’m sure she’s trying her best.”
Bakugou almost scoffs. If you knew the real reason for her lack of work ethic, you’d be on the same page as him.
Either way, he really needs to get this secretary off his back before shit blows out of proportion. If pictures, phone calls—hell—even lunch dates can’t get her to wake up, then what?
To his surprise, the idea actually comes to him quicker than he anticipated, red eyes perking up at a scheme forming in his head.
Of course. Heh, why didn’t I think of that sooner?
This is how he’s going to do it, he thinks. His lips barely resist the urge to quiver into a smirk that will no doubt have you questioning whatever was riling him up. Swallowing his final piece of pasta, Bakugou pushes his plate away but aims his fork in your direction.
“You free tomorrow?”
“I just have to drop off some papers at work in the morning. Why?”
“Good. Come by the agency for lunch.”
Your brows furrow at how sudden the request is, however, you go along with it. “Okay, should I make lunch for us?”
“Nah, don’t. I’ll order something,” he assures, but in his head he’s sure lunch would be the last thing on your mind tomorrow afternoon with what he has planned for you, him, and his secretary.
Bakugou scoots his seat back, leaning over on your side of the table. “Now, I remember a certain brat made a promise to me after dinner was done.”
“Hold it, I still have a piece–”
“Nuh-uh, c’mere–” He lightly pushes your hand away, and with effortless strength, pulls you out of your chair and over his shoulder. “Already waited too damn long.”
“Whoa..!” Your last piece of pasta falls back on the plate, forgotten. You watch as the distance between you and the dining table diminishes, the impatient blond leading you two into the hallway. At your fidgeting, he swats your thigh, warning you to stay fucking still unless you want to accidentally fall on your face.
With a squeal escaping your lips, you comply. As a reward, he presses his lips against the side of your ass as you’re still hanging over him, nipping at your curves. Your yelps are replaced by laughter. The ticklish sensation nearly makes you squirm again if not for Bakugou dropping you unceremoniously onto your bed.
“You better make it up to me for having to make me wait, Princess.” His emphasis on what is supposed to be your endearing little pet name comes out as a snarl as you’re cornered against the sheets. Expecting this kind of intense reaction from him after your meal, you grin slyly.
“I mean the ravioli was good, wasn’t it?”
Well that he can’t deny. Still, the blond smirks, showing his pearly canines. “Yeah, but,” he moves away from you, kneeling while grabbing at the hem of his shirt to pull it off,
“I’m still fuckin’ hungry.”
.
.
There is no doubt that the next day, you woke up incredibly sore. Sore yet also just as happy.
The tension in your muscles had dissipated as a result of being repeatedly fucked into your own mattress last night, allowing you to sleep soundly. So soundly that you don’t even notice your boyfriend leaving for work that morning. But it can’t be helped given how ungodly early his hero work starts every day.
Some hours after Bakugou has already left, your alarm goes off to remind you that it’s about time to begin your day. Even after a spent night, you can’t bear the thought of lying in bed anymore, especially with how cold the sheets had become, devoid of the blond’s natural warmth. Plus you had something to look forward to this afternoon—your lunch date.
Once you get washed and dressed, you grab your business files from your desk and dash out the door to drop off your papers at work.
Before you know it, it’s noon and you’re standing in front of the receptionist’s desk at Dynamight’s agency.
While you wait for the receptionist to finish their business call, you think back on the employee Bakugou mentioned yesterday. You note in the foreground how busy the entire place looks, which doesn't surprise you. The agency runs like a well-oiled machine. With all the hustle and bustle going on, it seems like everyone is doing their job with peak efficiency. Honestly, you can’t imagine anyone wanting to test the wrath of the explosive Number Two Hero, but you assume such people existed.
“Thank you for waiting! Here to see Mister Dynamight?” The receptionist greets you after hanging up their call, immediately recognizing you from your prior visits.
“Yeah, just coming by for lunch.”
“He’s in his office right now so I’ll let him know you’re here then.”
You mouth a thank you, followed by a farewell wave as you make your way to the elevator.
“’Suki’s office should be on… this floor…” you murmur, pressing the corresponding button on the panel. While you wait for the doors to close, you spot a figure approaching from a distance. You can see the person’s wrinkled professional attire, disheveled hair, and slightly smeared makeup as she approaches the elevator clumsily.
“H… Hold the door!” she pants.
Hearing her frantic request, your mind catches up with you. You jam your index finger on another button on the panel, keeping the doors open just long enough for the woman to slip inside and catch her breath.
You watch her ungraciously drop to the floor, lungs gasping for air. “That was a close one.” You bend down to extend a helping hand.
She sputters as she reaches out to you, “Yeah, thanks, I– Wait, you’re...” When she looks up, her eyes squint to get a better look at your face, brows knitting together as she recognizes your features. Dismissing your help, she abruptly retracts her hand before getting up on her own. You cock your head suspiciously when you notice her change in demeanor.
“Oh, I’m just stopping by to have lunch with my boyfriend. He’s your, uh,” you piece your words as eloquently as you can, “boss.”
It’s always difficult for you to tell any of Bakugou’s staff that you’re his girlfriend. You’d done it before in front of his group of sidekicks while waiting outside his office and as a result they all flipped, bombarding you with questions about your relationship before falling dead silent when his door suddenly swung open.
You’re expecting the same, if not, a similar reaction here, but you’re surprised to see a deadpan look in the woman’s eyes. She averts her gaze. You glance over at her, taking note of her fists shaking at her sides and how she bites the inside of her cheek which forms a pout on her lips.
You’re beginning to wonder if you shouldn’t have disclosed that information. “Are you okay?” you inquire, your voice filled with genuine concern. She eventually turns to look at you straight on, her expression teetering between a smile and a scowl. In any case, she tries to steer you away from the elephant in the room.
“Yep! Just peachy!” she assures through a strained grin that makes you all the more suspicious of her. Even if you want to question it, she has no intention of continuing the conversation. Her lips press together in an effort to maintain her smile, or else risk blurting something that should’ve stayed in her mouth. You keep to yourself in the elevator so as not to bother her, but the prolonged silence, combined with the elevator’s incessant dinging throughout each ascending floor, creates a suffocating atmosphere.
With every floor you pass you soon realize that despite keeping your distance, she’s still looking in your general direction. You notice her sneaking glances at you and your neck grows hot as you follow where her eyes wander. You press your palm against your jugular, the spot you recall Bakugou laying his teeth on last night.
I thought I covered that…
You want to chastise yourself for not spending enough time this  morning to conceal the blemishes on your neck. Your coworker had even commented on them before you left for Dynamight’s agency, to your embarrassment.
You settle for letting out an uneasy chuckle while adjusting the collar of your shirt. Though the majority of Bakugou’s staff are already aware of your relationship, you’d rather hide any detail of your sex life if possible. You’d prefer not being the hot talk amongst the whole faculty.
You expect to be the brunt of the woman’s teasing next, anticipating her wiggling her brows or whistling, but she keeps her mouth shut and her expression even appears offended.
Fortunately, the elevator saves both of you from any more uncomfortable silences. Right on cue, the doors slide open for the woman to exit on her floor. She doesn’t spare you a glance on her way out, but you overhear her mutter under her breath, “Enjoy your lunch or whatever.”
She stomps in the opposite direction until her figure disappears behind closing doors. Your face scrunches. “What’s her deal?”
You’ve gotten used to the bitter reactions some people would give over the fact you and Bakugou are in a relationship. You kind of have to, considering who Bakugou is and the hoards of fans he’s accumulated over the years as a Pro-Hero. But any of the backlash you receive is mostly posted online by petty netizens. No one has the guts to confront you in person. Mostly because if they do, Bakugou has no qualms about retaliating with equal venom and more. This lady, on the other hand, works for Bakugou. When it comes to greeting her boss’s girlfriend, she should be professional, right?
You brush those thoughts away, recalling that no one should ever have to suck up to you simply because you're a Pro’s significant other. “She’s probably on the PR team.” You laugh off, remembering how much trouble it is to manage Bakugou’s public image and how she must be tired from working overtime.
The elevator dings one last time to indicate that you’ve arrived at your destination. When the doors part, the entrance to Dynamight’s office is directly across from you, passing a short corridor. Normally, sidekicks and employees had to press the button on the side of the door, or page him ahead of time before entering. However, you have the luxury of just swinging those doors open whenever you like.
“Heya, Katsu–”
“For the last fuckin’ time, there’s no way I’m going on that mission as his fucking standby.” The voice booming at the other end of the room behind a wide, wooden desk drowns out your voice. “Tell Grand that if he can’t find another B-rate hero agency like his to do his damn dirty work, then he can just fuck himself,” he spits into the receiver. He slams the phone down and hangs up the call without a second thought.
You announce your presence once more with a low whistle. Another one for the PR team. “Vulgar as usual,” you joke.
He sighs loudly, “The only way to get the message across their thick skulls is to beat it into their heads at this point,” he says, leaning against the large glass windows behind him. “That Shindou needs to get off my back. I thought I told everyone I wasn’t taking anymore calls from that asswipe.”
“I’m sure Grand will finally get the idea after he receives your message from his manager.” Slipping in next to him, you wrap your arms around his neck. Your fingers delicately crawl up to his chin, tilting his head to face your smile. Bakugou reciprocates the gesture, his gloved hands gripping your waist and pulling you in as your lips briefly meet. When you part, you rest your forehead against his.
“How was patrol this morning, hero?” you whisper, playing with the tufts of hair above his neck.
“Same old shit,” he tells you quietly as you hum at his response, an amused grin tugging at the seam of your lips. Just as you’re about to separate, his hold at your sides tightens, locking your body against his.
“Bet you missed me, didn’t you, princess?” He leans in to nibble your jawline, causing laughter to tumble from your lips. “Bed got cold without me?”
Your answer is interrupted by a hand brushing up against the waistband of your pants, ruffling your tucked-in blouse. The man growls in the crook of your neck. “Didn’t have my cock to keep you nice and warm?”
Your nose scrunches at his unfiltered tongue. “Katsuki, I came here for lunch, remember?” You push at his chest, attempting to get him off you, but his teeth lock onto your clavicle.
“Food’s on the way,” he assures. Fingers play with the loops of your pants, dragging your shirt out slowly. “Might as well kill time–” His lips suddenly collide with yours, stealing your breath and drowning out any protests. He scuffs his teeth against your bottom lip, looking for a way in. You whimper in response at his persistence, stumbling backwards against the edge of his desk as he finally pries through your lips.
After an intense moment of kissing, his attention shifts to your jugular, nipping at the tender skin again. Every time his canines make contact with the broken skin, you wince. “Still got my marks all over ya,” he boasts, but the more skin he tries to unveil, the more he has to pull at your shirt’s collar which quickly annoys him. “Though I don’t understand what the hell you’re covering them up for.”
“D-Don’t want people to see…” you fumble with your excuses yet tilt your head to grant him better access. He scoffs at how your actions betray your words.
“Why does it matter when I want them to see? Let those fuckers look and know we’re together.” He licks one of the patches of broken skin. His harsh words make you shiver in his hold, but beneath his rough exterior, you sense a tender possessiveness in the amount of attention he pays to your body.
Your fingers brush through his hair, gently pulling him off of you so you can look him in the eyes, “You’re so damn insufferable, you know that?”
“Heh, you like it though,” Bakugou counters. You click your tongue, feigning ignorance. With his hand wrapped at the nape of your neck, he thumbs at your blemishes. His ruby eyes take their time to admire every inch of his claim on you. “You were clenching whenever I marked you. Screaming nice and loud too.”
“I bet the neighbors hate us now…” You sigh quietly.
“Took them that long?” He grins, almost proud of being a menace to those extras next door despite being a heroic figure. “Besides, not my fault you let me do whatever I wanted to you.” You pout, but accept it’s a fact you very well can’t deny.
As his deft hands unfasten each button of your blouse, he switches your positions. He yanks your shirt, dragging the fabric down your shoulders to reveal your skin and the bra hugging your chest. Licking his lips, he removes his thick gloves before hoisting you up to sit on the desk with him, making you straddle his thighs. Another pause of appreciation for the blossoms adorning your chest makes him blurt out, “Maybe I should let you mark me up just as much.”
You look at him precariously. He doesn’t take back the grin on his face. Seeing your wide-eyed expression, he cups your jaw, pulling you toward him. “What’s the look for? I know you’ve thought about it, princess.” Bakugou reads you like a book. He revels in your flustered face, telling him how right he is.
The image of his scarred, toned skin covered in hickeys has crossed your mind more times than you can count, but you’ve always been too engrossed in the intoxicating sensation of his teeth grazing every stretch of your skin to ever have an opportunity to bring the thought to light. Bakugou never gives you an inch when it comes to taking the reins in the bedroom. But now he’s practically granting you the opportunity on a silver platter.
You point a dubious look at him. “Are you serious, or did you bump your head somewhere earlier on patrol?” Anticipating your skeptical response, a chuckle rumbles low in his throat. He scoots back to remove his tank top, letting your hands lay over his chiseled physique. Your fingers immediately trace the scars and cuts lining his muscles, each one standing as a testament to every one of his battles. The idea of your own marks joining his adonis of a canvas has your eyes fluttering.
“’s no joke, babe,” he clarifies, a wicked grin plastered on his face. He then remembers why he made this whole arrangement in the first place. “Aren’t you tired of those fuckin’ extras always ogling me—looking at me up and down like they even have a damn chance to touch all of this?” He grabs your wrist and guides your hands above his chest, your fingertips brushing his collarbones.
You bite your lower lip. “Well…”
Hearing your voice linger, he snarls, “Are you seriously hesitating?”
It’s not like you hadn’t ever clenched your fists in front of the TV whenever your boyfriend was being interviewed by some mischievous news reporter or journalist. They never make it subtle when casting one too many glances at the Pro’s sweaty, skintight attire, staring into his red eyes for so long that they started looking dumb. Though as much as dark green jealousy occasionally takes root in your subconsciousness, you never act on your displeasure.
In the back of your mind, you always saw it as a sign of clinginess. But Bakugou sees it differently. To him, he’d want nothing more than his girl staking their claim on him. For you to get needy, jealous, possessive. Let the entire world know that you both belong to each other and no one else.
You fix your gaze at his cynical expression that eggs you on. Before you know it, you lunge forward. Your mouth latches onto his neck, arms curling around his shoulders. Bakugou draws you skin-to-skin, his low chuckle reverberating in the depths of his chest.
“Ooh, that’s it,” he encourages, rubbing your back. His other hand palms your ass, rocking you both back and forth, grinding his bulge against the crotch of your jeans. Your teeth cling to him, sinking into his skin. Your lips vibrate against his collarbones while you whimper at the delicious friction on your clit.
“Harder. I wanna see nice ol’ purple marks here,” he orders, relentlessly rolling his hips. You want to slap him on the wrist, your concentration waning as heat quickly pools in your abdomen. As if the grinding isn’t enough, Bakugou effortlessly undos the button of your jeans. He pulls down the zipper before reaching inside and touching you through your underwear.
“Fuck, already this wet from a little grinding? Nasty girl,” he hisses, running his index and middle finger across the ruined crotch of your panties. “Or maybe marking me is getting you all riled up?”
“Shut up–” you mutter half-heartedly. With a pop, your lips leave him. You lean back to evaluate your work. They’re not as noticeable as the marks Bakugou usually gives you, but they’re visible, and they’re purple as requested.
A small trail of violet hickeys adorns the crook of the blond’s neck and collarbones. Your finger traces the path, eyes capturing the sheen of your saliva over the marks. His skin gleams in the sunlight streaming in through the windows.
Reaching inside the pocket of his baggy pants, Bakugou pulls out his phone to turn on the front-facing camera. He gets a clear view of your work on the screen, and his smirk appears on the display. “My girl did that, huh?” He cranes his neck to examine the blemishes from different angles. Soon after, you hear his camera’s shutter release, capturing the image and adding it to his gallery. He should really consider making an album out of these.
Tossing his phone to the side, those piercing red eyes return to you, and your assertiveness fades. He grabs your wrists and leans in to kiss your temple.
“You did well, princess.”
His hushed voice makes your cunt clench and your ears warm. “I'll be sure to show these off later,” he promises, his tone dripping with smugness.
God, you realize how little his hero costume does to hide any of those hickeys. Given that he has to go on patrol again soon, you can expect his neck to be a hot topic in the media. Regardless, you can’t deny the satisfaction that wells up in your chest at the thought.
Katsuki was right. You really are possessive over him. And of course, it goes both ways.
While you’re distracted by your epiphany, he uses this opportunity to unhook your bra, happily discarding the garment. You exhale as he roughly cups the underside of your breast. His breath tickles your perky nipple, strong arm hooking you into him.
The pattern of his breaths are erratic, excitement coursing through his veins. His carmine eyes are lidded as he flattens a tongue against the hardened nub. As Bakugou fully wraps his lips around the stiffening bud, sucking and biting to his heart’s content, mewls part your mouth.
“Your tits still taste fucking amazing,” he mutters, mouth caught between sucking and spewing obscenities. “These tits gonna give me some milk too, princess?”
“Don’t push your luck, mister,” you quip before biting your bottom lip. You concentrate on moving your hips back and forth against his thigh, trying to find the right angle that provides you with the delicious jolt of pleasure you craved between your thighs. With a smack, his lips leave your nipple.
“Guess I didn’t give you enough attention down here since you keep rutting against me like a needy slut.” He swats your ass before gripping the plushness harshly. The mild sting has your pussy clenching. “My baby doesn’t feel satisfied unless she’s getting stretched open by my cock, huh?”
Just a little bit of dirty talk from him is enough to make you whimper pathetically, “Please, ‘suki…”
“Please, what? Gotta tell me more than that, princess.” He tugs the waistband of your pants, teasing you. Never breaking eye contact, Bakugou’s hand sneaks under the edge of his desk. “Use your words, I want to know what I’m doing to you. Don’t skimp on the details.”
A light click goes off, but if you hear it you don’t make it apparent, too focused on the hot blond in front of you that was making your head spin.
“Fuck… ‘Suki, I feel so hot… Need you right now…” You grab his hand showing him your ruined panties by letting the pads of his fingers trail your wet pussy. “See? Look what you did, I’m soaked.”
Bakugou mutters curses under his breath, applying more pressure to your panties to thoroughly inspect the slick saturating the fabric. He couldn’t have asked for a better reaction, finding your pleading to be incredibly sinful and all-too-tempting. He considers it a waste that he isn’t recording anything. Well, maybe it isn’t an entire waste.
“Damn, how are you this messy? This pussy’s fucking sobbing for me.” You nod, sloppily gyrating on top of his hand. For once, Bakugou is considerate to your needs and slides your panties to the side to slip his digits across your bare folds. You both moan in unison, you at the extra relief and him at the slippery honey dripping down his knuckles.
In his eyes he was being generous, granting you his thick fingers prodding your silky walls rather than reduce you to pitifully grinding against him. But, being greedy, you thought he wasn’t being generous enough.
Bakugou’s fingers leave your cunt to sample you, wet digits laying flat on his tongue. “Fuck, I need to lick you clean right now.”
“N-No, ‘suki, jus’ want your cock in me already,” you whine with a pout. However, Bakugou is insistent on stealing more than just a little taste from your sweet cunt.
“Not gonna even let me indulge a little? Must have spoiled you with too much dick last night.” He scoffs, but doesn’t move to discard his uniform to free his hard cock. Instead, he motions you to step down and stand in front of him while he remains perched atop his desk.
He eyes you up and down. “What are you waiting for, princess? I want it all off already.”
Your fingers start moving toward your disheveled blouse. As fabrics pile the floor, you catch the blond licking his lips, lewdly eyeing your panties that slip down your legs to reveal your juices coating your inner thighs.
“Turn around and kneel on top of my chair.”
At his blunt tone, you obey. Dynamight’s luxurious office chair cushions your knees as you carefully lift your body onto it.
“Bend over.”
Without question, you use the arms of the chair as leverage to safely lean forward, spreading your pussy in front of him. As half of your face presses into the cushion of the head rest, you steal a glimpse of his reaction from your peripheral vision.
With a guttural hiss between his teeth, he gets off the desk, pulling the chair closer for an even better look at your glistening center. He palms your ass, rolling the globes in his hands before spreading them, exposing your slick folds.
“You seriously trying to deny me this angel cunt?” His words are emphasized with a quick smack before his tongue dives between your folds. You whine at the contact, his lips fluttering around your clit as it works its way up your slobbering hole.
Knees shaking, you subconsciously muffle your sounds as you press your face into the headrest of the office chair. Not satisfied with your muted cries, Bakugou reaches one hand toward your head. He cups your jaw, turning you more to the side so you aren’t hiding in the cushion. When his tongue swivels around your sensitive bud, your moans resonate across his office with euphoria.
“‘suki! I’m gonna–!”
“Gonna cum? Do it then you slut.”
At your warning, he works his mouth vigorously against your pussy, even adding two fingers into your walls. Your toes curl behind you as your grip on the arms of the chair tighten.
“Fuck, you’re dripping all over my damn office chair.”
Maybe you would’ve issued a half-hearted apology, if not for his tongue and its unrelenting intensity across your sensitive bundle of nerves. You only offer a string of moans that Bakugou happily accepts, smiling into your pussy as he feels you tense up against him.
“Ka..tsuki!!” You practically scream, electricity coursing through your skin as your orgasm shakes your entire body.
“That’s it, princess. Want your taste all over my tongue… So fucking good,” he drones against your folds, not letting a drop go to waste as you slowly come down from your post-orgasmic bliss.
“Ah! ‘Suki, I’m already too sensitive…” You gasp, still feeling him drunkenly licking up and down your slit despite you just coming. Reaching behind you, you weave your fingers through his ash blond hair, nudging at his scalp to try to push him away, but Bakugou’s strength clearly outweighs yours. He grips your wrist, lifting his face off your sloppy pussy of his own volition.
“That sensitive just from my tongue? Oh, sweetheart, I plan on ruining you in my office chair alone.” Keeping his word, he replaces your pliant body with his own, planting himself right on the cushioned seat with his legs spread thoughtlessly. He dashes for the hem of his pants, unfastening the zipper, and pulling down enough articles of clothing for his cock to spring out, stiff and glistening with his arousal.
Lust blown eyes admire the thickness of Bakugou’s shaft, rightdown to the veins on the ridges of his cock. A smirk and chuckle follow in the wake of your heady gawking, swearing that you look like you were about to pounce and give him the best head of his life. Sadly, as he glances at the digital clock perched behind you, he realizes there’s no time.
“Sorry, babe, food’s gonna be here any minute and I need you on my cock right fucking now.” He rolls the office chair closer to get a firm grasp of your hips, motioning you on top of him with rousing urgency. Thighs on either side of his own, you reach over your body to level his cock over your dripping folds.
The blond’s lips curl into a sneer beneath you, hands fondling your breast and ass—the latter spreading your cheek to help you accommodate his size. “Besides, this what you wanted, right? To be–” As you begin sinking down his length, your mouth opens in a soundless mewl. “–split open on me, even after I fucked you into the mattress last night?”
Your teeth tug at your bottom lip while you do your best to bottom out. Katsuki isn’t amused by your muted reaction, pinching your nipple as punishment and spurring his desired noises from you. “What did I say? Answer me, slut, you wanted to get fucked dumb again, didn’tcha?” His words are harsher this time, demanding your attention.
“Yes, yes! Wan’ you to make me your little cockwhore, ‘Suki…” you confess, moaning when you feel his dick fully impale you. At the same time, Bakugou hisses at how your walls mercilessly hug his shaft.
“Yeah princess, I’m going to give you exactly what you need– Fuck! How are you so damn tight?!” It hasn’t even been ten hours since he had sex with you, stretching you into his shape last night until the sun shined, and yet you still had the innate ability to squeeze every ounce of pleasure out of him and then some. At this rate, he’s not going to last. “Need you to move, baby. Ride me already.”
Hearing the urgency in his tone, your hips begin moving on their own, dragging yourself on and off his cock. Hands on his shoulders, you leverage yourself to maintain a steady rhythm that had you both delirious and panting in pleasure. The blond’s thick fingers dig into your soft flesh, growls leaving his lips as fire flares in his veins, threatening to ignite his last ounce of willpower to allow you to keep this sustained tempo.
“F-Feeling good, ‘suki?” you question, looking down at him with a sinful expression painted on your gorgeous face—pretty eyes half-lidded and needy just for him.
“Yeah… God you make me act up all the damn time I–” His cock twitches between your tight folds, eyeing you from below and watching you clasp his hand that’s pawing your breast to gesture to him to play with you some more. The sensual yet genuine smile you give him ultimately breaks his resolve.
Oh, fuck it.
As if chains have snapped around him, Bakugou suddenly shoots up, carrying your body against him. He lays you across his desk quickly but carefully, with little regard for whatever else tumbles and falls off of it except for you.
You squeal in surprise, your arms and legs attempting to find purchase around him before you’re reduced to jelly by the new quickening pace of his cock pounding your insides.
“Oh my god… Katsuki!” The obscene slapping of skin on skin accompanies your desperate cries throughout his office. Arms that were wound around his neck lose their hold on him, pathetically dropping to your sides to clasp Katsuki’s wrists, where he’s pulling your thighs apart to spread you open for his unrelenting thrusts.
“Sorry, princess… you looked so damn hot I couldn’t hold back anymore. Needed to feel you deeper and make you cream already.” His tepid apologies don’t reach your ears as you’re overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of his movements, followed by a searing knot welling up in your abdomen.
By the looks of it, you have no objections to the turn of events, gazing dreamily at him as his hardened body hovers over you. From your point of view, you get glimpses of the sweat dotting his forehead, his nose scrunched in concentration, and narrowed ruby eyes glimmering with feral desire.
With stars in your eyes and features all flushed with warmth and lust, you sing a euphony of I love you’s between whimpers. Your voice catches in your throat when his cock repeatedly hits that sweet spot inside your gummy walls.
Bakugou can’t get enough of you, heart swelling with his affections that he can’t help but flick his wrist to intertwine his hand in yours. Despite his progressively carnal thrusts, he possesses contrasting tender devotions in his voice.
“I love you, princess. It’s been you and no one else. No other bitch can compare,” he repeats over and over like a mantra, a declaration of his loyalty to you and only you. You swear there’s an extra weight behind his words, but you’re too engrossed in the feeling of utter euphoria this man gives you in mind, body, and soul to give it a second thought. It’s as if you’re walking on Cloud 9 as your pussy clenches around him, back arching in the moment that’s pushing Bakugou to the breaking point
“So damn perfect, you were fucking made for me, baby. Give it to me, cum on my cock,” he pleads, “I know you’re almost there, princess.”
“Yea, ‘suki… Wanna cum for you, you make me feel so good,” you murmur brokenly, voice splintering into an incoherent babble that he finds so endearing, caressing your cheek while deepening his brutal pace. That knot in your tummy tightens and when the cord eventually snaps, you cry out, clutching onto his hand.
Katsuki insists he’s never seen a prettier sight than you finally losing yourself all because of him. It urges him to reach his own high and claim you in the only way he knows how—coming in your pretty cunt and dedicating himself wholly to you.
“Pretty angel, you’re making me crazy over here. Fuck! ‘Bout to blow my whole load inside you. That what you want?”
“Mhm! Please..!” You manage a few urgent pleas before Bakugou finally reaches his limit, groans resonating in the wake of his cock stuttering between your silky folds. His growls reverberate from the depths of his chest, thick with rapture as his body is bathed in the sweet sensation that is your entire being swallowing him whole. Ribbons of his cum paint your insides. You feel so full, both physically and spiritually, your heart bursting with love for the man that was spilling his adoration for you merely seconds ago.
Bodies spent and chests heaving, you lay on the desk with Katsuki on top of you. You don’t notice his hand sneaking under the desk, a click going off that goes equally overlooked, enveloped by your collective pants echoing in the stillness that is his hero office.
After a moment, the sensations catch up to you and the weight of his sweaty, heavy torso makes you squirm.
“Feel sticky…”
“There’s a shower and bath right there.” Bakugou grunts, but there’s playfulness behind his deceptively gruff mannerisms.
Your hands trail over his back at his response. “I know, but can you carry me?”
“Fine. Such a princess…”
“I’m your princess though.” You giggle, a teasing lilt in your carefree tone.
The blond can’t help the grin that finds his features. “Hell yeah you are.”
Bakugou pulls on his uniformed cargo pants to scrounge together some semblance of decency as he cradles you against him. Your body is like jelly in the Pro Hero’s strong arms, barely exercising the strength to hold onto him properly as he moves you to the unnecessarily luxurious bathroom built in his office. While setting you down on the counter next to the sink, the pager in his pocket rings.
“Food’s finally here.” He reaches for a hanger on the door, finding a bathrobe to blanket you in. “I’ll be back.”
You raise a brow. “Going out like that?”
“Relax, I’m putting a shirt on obviously.”
“A shirt, huh?” Not at all convinced, you cross your legs. You and him both know he absolutely reeks of sex. The marks you gave him are also an obvious giveaway. No doubt he’ll be an eye-turner to anyone he crosses paths with at the agency.
“Fine, I’ll have someone bring it up.” He meets you in the middle and you happily oblige, shoo-ing him to go about his business once again. The blond rolls his eyes, exiting the bathroom and out the large double doors of his office to wait at the elevator for his delivery.
And when those doors open with a ding, he’s greeted by the very last person he wishes to see. Swathed in the overbearing odor of her pungent perfume, his secretary stands heel-to-heel in the elevator, eyes crossed and a furious blush penetrating the matte layer of her foundation. Her steps traverse the threshold between the lift and hallway. With hands balled into small fists, she jabs the plastic bag of take-out food into the hero’s chest before wagging her finger at his disinterested demeanor.
“You..! You! How dare you?! Why, I should charge you for sexual harassment for what you did! So uncouth! Barbaric even!” She lectures vehemently, voice dripping with malice akin to the insults she practically spits at his face. The benevolent facade she dons everyday to garner his favor crumbles to pieces before his eyes and Bakugou can’t contain his laughter at the pathetic display.
“What’s so funny?!”
“Oh man, you’re a riot aren’t ya? You coulda very well just turn off your speaker if it bothered you so damn much,” he suggests, but the glint in his expression tells the woman he can see right through her. “But you didn’t, did you? You listened in on the whole thing like a fuckin’ pervert.”
At his deduction, the secretary blushes even harder. The fists at her sides shake with an anger that boils under her skin, melting her composure like the wicked witch of the west.
“Why you..! You’re the pervert here! Don’t think you can turn the situation on me when you’re the one who instigated this!” She points an accusing finger in his direction, an empty threat to the indifferent blond.
The hero barely offers her a scoff. “Me? The instigator? You got some fucking nerve saying that when all month you’ve been coming onto me practically on all fours despite knowing I’m a taken man.” Now it’s his turn to retort with equal venom and then some. His sudden switch in demeanor quickly overwhelms the woman as with every step he takes forward, she grows smaller and smaller.
“What’re you going to do? Tell the media? Report me to the authorities? Make a bunch of baseless rumors on your online blog? Well news flash—unlike you I’m irreplaceable. There won’t ever be another hero that has left as big of a mark on this country as I have, and you know it.” He holds his chest proudly after every word. In his presence, the secretary shrinks, gradually cowering back toward the elevator. Any semblance of nerve she held vanishes in front of her.
“Now start packing your things. If I don’t see your station left spotless by tomorrow morning I’ll make sure your days working for the hero industry are numbered.” It’s a threat she doesn’t dare challenge, wordlessly pressing a button on the panel to descend the floors and flee with her tail between her legs. The flabbergasted expression on her face is the last he sees of her.
And just like that, Katsuki feels a weight evaporate from his shoulders, releasing a deep sigh he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He bounds back to his office with your lunch in tow.
When he returns, he overhears the water running in the bathroom before it’s soon shut off.
“Ah, ‘Suki, you’re back! I just filled the tub with water for our bath.” Your sincere smile meets his eyes which soften at the mere glimpse of you kneeling next to the tub, patiently awaiting his arrival.
“Fuck, babe, you weren’t suppose to move. Should be too sore after what I did t’ya.” He hoists you off the floor and into welcoming arms.
You pout cutely. “C’mon now, I’m not helpless you know.”
“‘Course not. But you’re my princess, remember? All mine.” He settles you both into the depths of the soothing, warm tub, nestling your body against his chest as he presses kisses in every area of tender skin he laid his claim on.
“And I plan to treat you like one for the rest of our lives.”
.
.
The very next morning, he finds a letter of resignation on his desk—the very place the two of you had fucked.
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blissfullyapillow · 5 months
Text
┃Genshin + HSR men as spiderman (+ your boyfriend)
₊˚⊹♡ Various x gn reader
₊˚⊹♡ wc: 7,189
₊˚⊹♡ warnings: Baizhu. Alhaitham’s part is suggestive but nothing explicit. Caelus’ part contains a ton of references to various things (one of them being your option to choose between Caelus or Stelle when you start HSR). Overall fluffy scenarios w/ your boyfriend (who is also Spiderman) :> 
₊˚⊹♡ Pillow Talks: Some parts are proofread others aren’t (for once) because I wasn’t feeling up to it. I intentionally put Baizhu under warnings it's not a mistake, I thought I was being funny doing that lol. Ngl Caelus’ part is my fav <3 !! I have a ton of drafts I’ll eventually complete, life is just a lot for me rn. I love you all ♡(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ ♡ <3
₊˚⊹♡ Masterlist
Alhaitham ✮ ๋ ࣭ ⭑ 〃
always has headphones on. Even when he’s fighting. He’s literally never seen without them
He’s been offered to do collaborations with many companies to make a model of headphones off the one’s he usually wears. He never accepts, unless it’s for his go to brand.
All villains know to leave spidey’s headphones alone. The last villain who broke his old pair didn’t make it out of the fight alive.
That wasn’t a joke.
Anyway, most people don’t ask about his headphones, rather reporters are always at their wits end since they can never get an interview out of him. Not even a brief still shot of him.
Hell, most people don’t even know what he sounds like.
For the most he’s a man of few words, but when he does speak? You’ll wish he hadn’t.
Very sassy. Has the best retorts and the most vile insults.
His suit is really cool too, and very practical.
He’s a college student when he isn’t spiderman. He’s scarily efficient at juggling his part time superhero duties along with his heavy college workload. Maybe it’s because he gets all his work done way in advance? Who knows.
He’s super gentle whenever he’s rescuing civilians. At most, he’ll say a word or two in response to their gratitude. Something along the lines of “yeah.” Or “It’s no problem” if you’re lucky. Most people don’t try to make conversation anyway. As stated before, he’s really good at dodging not only reporters but cameras in general.
So, imagine your surprise when he actually stops walking away after you’ve asked him what he’s listening to. You can’t see his face, but his spidery eyes widen comically in shock.
No one has ever asked him that before. You’d think someone would, but no one has.
So, he indulges you. “I’m not listening to anything at the moment. Sometimes I’ll have music playing, but for the most part I tend to use these just to block out noise. Plus, people tend to leave you alone when they see you have headphones on. It also makes for an adequate excuse to pretend I don’t hear people speaking to me.” Your mouth drops in pure shock at the fact that spiderman not only spoke to you, but he’s also.. very.. interesting.
Oh, he likes that look on your face. You can’t see it, but he has a huge smirk on his face underneath that mask.
Alhaitham recognized you from campus. Of course he was quick and efficient with moving you to safety before he took care of the danger, but he couldn’t return you to ground level until after the fight.
Speaking of fighting, he’s really good at it. His movements are calculated and precise. You made a mental note never to get on spider man's bad side as you watched him clock the villain square in the jaw, with no regard for whether they retain consciousness or not.
“I’ll see you around.” Is all he says now, before he web slings away. Wait, see you around? But he’s spiderman!
Little did you know that spiderman was your hot, intelligent classmate you had a raging crush on.
Lucky for you, it seems he may develop feelings for you too.
𓆩♡𓆪
“I thought I told you to leave your window unlocked? I’d hate to be spotted.” Alhaitham scolds you as you unlock your window for him, and he effortlessly slips into your abode.
“I’m sorry, but I like hearing your cute little knocks on my window. It’s the highlight of my day.” Alhaitham sighs, as if he’s annoyed, but in reality your words cause his heart to flutter.
Once he’s inside he slips off his mask and stretches his fit body. He catches sight of your lingering, fixed gaze. He smirks as he purposefully flexes his arms for you. Your head whips around, looking away as if he hadn’t caught your ogling.
“It seems like someone missed me.” His knowing words result in a click of your tongue. Yet, you find yourself melting in his warm embrace as he wraps his arms around you from behind. You’re a goner when he buries his face into the crook of your shoulder. He presses a kiss there.
As his lingering lips trail along your sensitive skin, you ask him your usual question. “What are you listening to?” He hums in contemplation as he thinks. “To the sound of your voice.” You suck in a breath, and he smiles.
That question is something of a routine between the two of you. You always ask him, ever since you learned of his identity during one of his canon events. His response will change depending on his mood, and it’s a good indicator of his current mood.
If he gives you an actual song, it’s an easy way to tell depending on the tone and meaning of the song. Otherwise, if he replies with “Nothing.” He’s either tired or on the verge of breaking. Usually it’s both, since he says the silence helps him think.
Now, if he responds with something sweet, like “The sound of your voice,” he either wants to cuddle or…
The firm press of his hand as it trails along your inner thigh is answer enough.
You feel heat warm the expanse of your body, but you pretend not to notice. “I thought you said class drained you earlier today?” You try to distract yourself with conversation. Alhaitham’s hand only travels up further. “It did. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you, yet I was stuck listening to the professor droning on and on about a topic I’ve already read extensively about. Now, I can finally do what I’ve been wanting to do to all day long.” Alhaitham’s voice is rough, and his breath grazes the shell of your ear.
“Okay…” Is your eloquent response. You know if you turned around, you’d be met with that knowing smirk of his.
“Now, will you help me relax? Being spiderman is draining after all, and not being able to touch you the way you deserve all day has made me really tense.”
You have no objections when his fingers finally reach the place you’re craving it most.
🕷🕸 ๋࣭ ⭑⛓
ᐟᐟ☆ Caelus .✮𖦹‪‪ ₊˚
Radiates the most Gen Z vibes it’s insane
Up to date on everything and anything pop culture related. Whether it be old or new.
A theater went into a frenzy when fans realized spider man was in the same theater watching Five Nights at Freddy’s with them
He was upset since he had to slip out and watch the movie at home on Peacock instead.
Anyway, he’s a real sweetheart. He always makes time to stop and help older individuals cross streets, helps children find missing items, and he’ll even give some citizens a lift to a place they’re running late to.
Well, he stopped doing that last one after the incident. … That was his second canon event.
He became spider man when a woman named Kafka purposefully had a mutated spider bite him. He doesn’t recall too much before that, and he’s not sure why he can’t, but that’s a part of his journey. To discover himself and put together pieces of his past.
He still occasionally runs into Kafka and her companions, but for the most part he’s still developing his own opinion of her.
He’s a ball of energy most days. Reporters love him since he’s always so receptive and open to their questions.
Yet, he has his moments. Some nights, if you look to the right building, you’ll spot a lone figure on top, staring into the vast night sky. On those nights, he imagines a life where he travels those skies, exploring what the universe has to offer. Maybe there are other planets out there? What if he could visit them, and experience intergalactic adventures?
Oh well. Maybe in another timeline. He isn’t a nameless traveler here after all.
Unbeknownst to the both of you, you’ve bumped into each other on countless occasions when he’s in his civilian form. Actually, you two are very close friends.
He’s debated with himself many times. Should he tell you the truth? Time and time again his answer was no, and for many reasons. One, Kafka clearly has a close eye on him, and he isn’t sure of her intentions yet. Two, he doesn’t want you needlessly worrying about him. Unfortunately, you already do.
So it honestly doesn’t come as a surprise when you stumble upon him during a particularly hard moment in time, and he lets it slip that he’s spiderman and he’a struggling.
Thankfully, you’re just the support he needed.
Now, he has a safe space. A person who feels like home in a place where he truly has none. And he’s eternally grateful to you for it.
As for you, he’s your personal ray of sunshine. You’re overjoyed you can play such a prominent role in his life, and you don’t love him any less for being spider man. If anything, you somehow worry less about him…?
It’s honestly hard when you watch him overcome many impossible odds. He even accumulates new powers every now and again! He’s really strong, mentally and physically, so it eases your worries at times.
Even if he does need a shoulder to lean on, as you often do, you’re more than happy to be that shoulder for him.
Honestly, it’s a good thing he has you. His future canon events look pretty… rough. Especially the one where he meets himself from a parallel universe. You know, the one where he’s a star instead of the sky.
𓆩♡𓆪
“Oh my gosh Name look! They even have my bat in the game!” Caelus happily swivels around in his chair to look at you, frantically pointing to his pc monitor all the while.
You look at the screen, and sure enough there’s a scarily accurate model of your superhero boyfriend in the game, currently performing a silly dance move.
“Ah.. I see..” Is your response. You really think it’s cool, but you want to tease him a bit. You struggle to contain your grin when he pouts at your lack of enthusiasm. “I thought you’d think it was cool….” You can only chuckle as you run soothing fingers through his soft locks.
“I do sweetheart, I do.” Your words make him visibly light up, and he practically jumps out of his chair to wrap his arms around you.
“Speaking of, I have something else I want to show you…”
Que a fun midnight outing on top of the tallest building overlooking the whole city.
“Wow.. this is beautiful..” Your eyes shine as bright as a dying supernova as you gaze upon the beautiful landscape before you.
Caelus is beaming with pride, glad he was able to surprise you like this.
“Yeah, I stumbled upon this view after a particularly hard battle.” He hums in content as he leans back, pulling you into him.
You rest your head against him, his chest a comfortable pillow.
You can feel his steady heartbeat beneath your ear, and it’s a soothing melody.
“Thank you for sticking by me all this time.” The words are a gentle caress against the shell of your ear, yet they cause your heart to ache.
“You don’t need to thank me for that, silly. I love you, and when you love someone and they’re good for you, you stand by them. No matter what. Yeah?” You gently pat his chest.
He smiles.
“Yeah.”
He’s silent again, and a comfortable atmosphere wraps around the two of you like a warm blanket right out of the dryer.
That is, until he decides to open his mouth.
“Don’t get too comfortable. I might just push you off.”
He looks at you to gauge your reaction.
Absolute horror is written on your features.
He loves it. It sends an electrifying thrill through him; he loves to tease you too.
“You’re getting too out of hand with these jokes of-“
His lips steal the rest of your words, and you allow it.
The city paints a magical backdrop for your moment of intimacy.
🕷🕸 ๋࣭ ⭑⛓
Jing Yuan ⁞ ⟡ ⚡︎ ♡⸝⸝ 🕷 
This spider man is always accompanied by his cat, Mimi.
He rescued her during a particularly rough encounter. He tried to send her off after ensuring she was safe with authorities, but she refused to leave his side. Now, he already had a soft spot for cats, so it was a no brainer to him
Mimi has accompanied him ever since, and she even has her own little mask and everything.
Little does he know that the ‘cat’ he saved was really just another one of the smuggled exotic animals those crooks tried to sneak into the city. Mimi will no longer fit in that backpack of his in a few months time.
He’s really lazy, honestly. He calls it conserving energy, but really he will only intervene when it’s called for or if the situation is rapidly turning dire
He has many admirers. Pictures of blurry glimpses of his suit sell for hundreds, if not thousands of dollars, online
So, so many fan edits of him. And he’s seen ‘em all. He’s secretly really smug about it, but he keeps that to himself
He has a commanding presence, and an air of elegance about him. It almost feels like his fighting is an art of sorts. It’s fascinating to see the creative ways he’ll use his webs to get the job done.
Mimi has plushies, courtesy of collaboration with spiderman.
He bought the pre-orders for her plush and a few more when the official drop released
So, how did you end up with a man like Jing Yuan? Gorgeous, handsome Jing Yuan who's also a renowned general?
Simple. You're his personal alarm clock.
No. Literally. You were asked to wake him up after he fell asleep on the job again, as everyone else had grown tired of the task, and that was the beginning of an.. interesting dynamic.
The best part about it? One day you arrived a bit earlier than your usual time to wake him up, only to find the infamous spider man frantically urging Jing Yuan’s cat, Mimi, into a backpack.
Long story short, now you not only have to deal with waking him up, but you also have to deal with a clingy boyfriend who isn't afraid to his webs against you
𓆩♡𓆪
“Jing Yuan! I told you, this meeting is important and it’s imperative that-“
He blatantly ignores you as he webs the door shut, and now you’re stuck with him in his office.
“Mhm. I understand. Now come here, I miss you.” His stupid smile makes your heart race as he opens his arms, welcoming you in.
Ah, what the hell.
You all too easily bend to his whims. You quickly find yourself in his arms, snuggled against his warm body.
“That’s much better sweetheart. See? This isn’t so bad is it?” You abhor his teasing, yet all the same it sends a thrill through you.
“Shut up. I better not get in trouble because of you.” You sigh. “No one would dare say anything to you. If anyone ever does, I will personally tend to the matter.” His voice is tense, along with his statement, but all you feel is his thick hair tickling your cheek as he nuzzles his head against you.
A goofy smile spreads across your lips, and soon you forget all about the meeting as you enjoy each other’s embrace.
An adorable sound comes from Mimi, lounging somewhere in his office you assume. The usual.
“By the way, are we still on for dinner later?” Your question evoked a chuckle out of Jing Yuan.
“I wouldn’t miss dinner with you for the world.” “Not even if your spidey duties call?” Your quip causes an adorable pout to form on his lips.
“My ‘spidey duties’ can wait until I’m full and satiated. You mean more to me than you know, my sweet angel.” His words warm not only your heart, but your soul.
You completely lose track of time in his arms.
So it comes as quite a shock when obnoxious knocking can be heard on his office door. You know, the one that’s currently webbed shut?
“Jing Yuan!!”
Ah, Diviner Fu. She knows all too well that you’ve failed yet again to lure Jing Yuan out of his office.
“Ah, looks like dinner has arrived sooner than we expected sweetheart.” You squeal when he suddenly sits up with you still in his arms.
He uses his webs to grab his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder as Mimi hops in, used to this ordeal.
“Remember to hold on tight, okay?” He murmurs the words against the shell of your ear, before he slips on your own little mask over your face. Just as a precaution, though he’s really good at staying hidden whenever he’s with you.
“Off we go.”
And with that, you two sling out of the window of his office, leaving an exasperated Fu Xuan behind.
🕷🕸 ๋࣭ ⭑⛓
♡ ┃ Kaedehara Kazuha ‧.°˖➴
He is the amazing spider man
Like, he’s the ultimate spider man. He’s kind yet deadly, and very friendly.
He’s as swift as the wind, and he actually travels with a sword. You’ve never seen Spiderman incorporate sword play in with his webs? Well, you’re in luck! Kazuha does this at a masterful level. He made it into a sort of art form as well. At the end of his fights he’ll always create beautiful imagery using his sword, carving out complicated shapes and scenes with his webs. It’s kind of like a signature of his
He’s pretty good at balancing his civilian and hero life. Although he may get caught up with things if unexpected incidents occur, which lets be honest, it happens all the time when you’re spider man
He’s genuinely so sweet, and it’s easy to see through his actions. The public loves him. He has loads of admirers.
After a very traumatic incident involving a close friend of his, he experienced a period of grief and depression
He got back on his feet eventually, and he awakened new powers within him! Well, that would be the only explanation for why he was suddenly able to use electricity during combat with a particularly strong villain
Not only does he use a sword but now he has the ability to wield electricity?
Once word of spider man’s new powers spread, the number of crimes that were committed went down drastically. Literally. Statistically crime rates decreased by 25% the following week. 25%. Your usual run of the mill people were too afraid to do anything after witnessing the devastating beating Kazuha gave to a particular individual
To be fair, he was late to your date because of them. He wasted no time, defeating that villain within mere seconds before frantically webbing away to meet you
Speaking of dates, Kazuha enjoys going on many dates with you.
From indoor cozy dates to public outings, typically walks through nature, Kazuha’s favorite past time is the time he spends with you
He often leaves you handwritten notes before he leaves, ranging from eloquent poetry of his feelings for you, to short blurbs of how your eyes make it physically impossible for him to focus on what you’re saying. (He felt bad because he got lost in your eyes while you were describing your Christmas decorating plans to him)
Overall, Kaedehara Kazuha is a model spider man. Kind and caring, yet swift and fatal when the situation needs him to be.
𓆩♡𓆪
“Kazuha, I told you I forgive you already!” You giggle despite your exasperation. Kazuha disregards your statement as he places fleeting, soft kisses on your person.
He starts with your hand. He holds your hand delicately, treating you as if you’re porcelain. He places a kiss to the back of your hand before his lips slowly trail up your arm.
Your heart melts at the tender gesture, all the while your body lights aflame with his burning gaze. His piercing orbs hold your gaze as his lips make their leisure ascent.
You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him even if you willed it.
“I promised you I wouldn’t be late to our date this week, but I was. You have my sincerest apologies, my love.” You feel his lips move as he murmurs the words against your skin.
“No need to be all formal. We’ve been together for how long now?” You murmur the words in embarrassment, as Kazuha’s lips now brush along your neck, teasing you.
“Hmm.. if I recall correctly, today would make five years correct?” You nod your head, yet your eyes drift shut as Kazuha playfully teases the skin of your neck with his teeth.
“Y-Yeah.. so..” Your mind is blank. You completely forgot the point you were trying to make.
You have a feeling that was his goal all along.
His lips finally reach their destination; his eager lips meet your parted ones.
You groan as he draws you closer, placing a firm hand on the back of your head. His kiss almost feels a bit desperate; his lips mold with yours in perfect sync as his free hand explores the expanse of your body.
When he finally parts from you, you take desperate gasps of air. His state isn’t much better; his lidded gaze roams your body as he takes deep breaths.
“Kazuha…” “hmm?” He smiles, a lazy, slow smile, and you know you’re not letting him leave any time soon.
“I.. um.. oh! I was going to say, before you rudely distracted me..” He chuckles at that, tracing the contour of your face with a finger as you continue to scold him. “It wasn’t your fault you were late. The police force needed backup and-“ His lips capture yours again.
You reluctantly press against his chest, gently pushing him away.
You pout.
He winks at you.
“I know, but it still took away from our precious time together. I wanted to make it up to you by arriving early today, but I wasn’t able to fulfill that desire.” He sighs, and his finger moves from your face down to your neck, lower to your collarbone.
“I promise you it’s okay, Kazuha. I understand. Although, if you really want to make it up to me…” This time, your gaze is the heated one as you skillfully unravel his ponytail.
He sucks in a breath at your action. “I have another desire that you most certainly can fulfill.”
“Ah, I like the sound of that.”
Lucky for you, he is more than able to fulfill that desire of yours.
🕷🕸 ๋࣭ ⭑⛓
‧₊˚ ┊Shikanoin Heizou ⚖✮⋆˙✦
Public menace #1
He drives the police force crazy because he always solves all the cases before they can get to the bottom of it. He does so not only as spider man, but as his civilian self too.
He can be a bit of a flirt when he has the mask on.. well, ‘a bit’ is an understatement, but he doesn’t just flirt with everyone!
He really only flirts with you, honestly, yet you reject him time and time again. He was a bit puzzled, since he knows how flustered you get when he flirts with you without the mask. Maybe it’s because you don’t know it’s him? He’ll have to test that theory
Using his detective skills he quickly deduces that it was because you have a crush on him. Him. Not spider man.
He knows of your intense loyalty, so of course you wouldn’t entertain his flirting, even if the individual flirting with you is the spider man.
Once he figured that out, oh how much fun he has teasing you as spider man
He’ll use his webs to get around quickly and restrain his enemy, but in combat? He prefers to use his fists. He’s quick with it too. He’s Shikanoin ‘left, right, goodnight’ Heizou.
So, whenever he does use his webs in combat, you know he’s going against a formidable foe 
He’s super sweet to fans. Signatures, autographs, everything. On the sly though, when you still didn’t know he was spider man, he kissed an autograph he signed specifically for you before he handed it to you.
There was a visible mark left behind, and although you were annoyed you still kept the autograph (that you didn’t ask for)
When he finally revealed his identity to you, you were simultaneously livid and not surprised; You know of Heizou’s tendency to tease
He planned for the whole reveal to be super romantic and everything, and by the end of it you two became a couple.
You are the ones who create the iconic spider man kiss. He’s upside down, holding a handwritten confession of love, not a rose, that you cautiously take from his hand. In the letter he explicitly stated that spider man and the man you were currently crushing on are the same people. Following that was a very romantic declaration of his feelings for you.
When you looked up from reading the letter, you found yourself face to face with Shikanoin Heizou instead of the spider’s mask. The shock on your face was too adorable to ignore, so he kissed you whilst hanging upside down.
It was an… interesting experience, to say the least.
Would you repeat it? Absolutely.
𓆩♡𓆪
“Heizouuu….” Your whine is music to his ears.
He nuzzles his head further into your chest, and his sigh is one of contentment.
“Yesss..?” This time, you’re the one sighing, except it’s one of annoyance rather than content.
“I’ve needed to use the bathroom since five minutes ago.” “And I told you you’re welcome to. I will wait as my warm, loving arms ache for your return.” You scoff at his dramatic use of words.
“Thanks, Heizou, but how could I possibly go to the bathroom when your body is literally tangled with mine?” This question gives him pause, even though it really shouldn’t.
Said body adjusts a bit, but he makes no move to get off of you.
You’re currently lounging in bed, doing nothing really. Just enjoying Heizou’s company. It was nice until you had to use the bathroom, and with the way Heizou’s body is lying on you, legs entangled and arms wrapped around you, there’s no possible way for you to escape.
His head remains on your chest, but he looks up at you now.
“How about a deal? If you can solve this riddle-“
“Shikanoin Heizou.” 
“My apologies.”
He quickly moves off of you, and you make a beeline for the bathroom.
You’re not surprised when he’s on the other side of the door the moment you open it.
“Sometimes, Heizou, you just…” You struggle to find the words to properly express yourself.
“I just..?” He prompts you, guiding you back to the comfort of your shared bed.
You finally find the words you were searching for as you both resume your previous position, except this time Heizou’s head is buried against the crook of your neck.
“You just.. fail to surprise me, really. Which is funny, since you’re someone who’s full of them.” His body shakes against yours as he laughs at your bold statement.
“Ah, my lovely partner knows me so well. Honestly, how did a detective like me get so lucky? I believe that’s the biggest mystery of all.” His words fill you with warmth; they effectively morph your feelings of affectionate annoyance into a feeling of immense joy.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You do know I’m the one who got lucky, right?” You chuckle when he gasps, as if the very concept itself is absurd.
“I would refute that hypothesis of yours, but I believe it would only cause this conversation to continue in circles. So, I propose that we are both the luck ones. Do you agree?”
You feel his smile and hear the affection in his voice as his lips brush along your skin.
“Yeah.. I agree.” “Perfect.”
And with that, a comfortable silence fills the room once more.
It’s a relaxing evening, spent with your very loving and very dramatic boyfriend.
🕷🕸 ๋࣭ ⭑⛓
Welt Yang ﹕⸝⸝ *:・゚✮
“Wait, spider man is an old man!?” Yeah and there’s a literal dinosaur who dons the mask in another universe. Your point?
Lol jokes aside, Welt is one of, if not the most, powerful spider man. I mean, he can literally manipulate gravity.
He’s also a huge nerd.
He always brings his cane along with him when he fights, so the enemy tends to underestimate him, thinking he’s close to retirement and should just give up the whole ‘hero act’ already. Honestly, maybe he should, but that day isn’t today.
If he gets particularly annoyed by comments from his opponents, he’ll just get rid of ‘em. via a mini black hole of sorts. It’s super effective.
He’s actually very fond of making jokes and semi-horrible puns. They make you laugh though. Others? Not so much.
Anyway, he’s very reserved and he won’t stick around for reporters to interview him. He’ll just give the necessary information needed for authorities to take over, and in the blink of an eye he’s gone.
For his day job, he’s an animator. A well renowned one too. He’s very casual about it though, and he doesn’t see it as something deserving of praise.
He’s taken on a young talent who’s a blank page, in the process of writing a story of their own.
You’re the one who finds out Welt’s well kept secret. He didn’t plan on revealing his identity to you, as he felt it was his burden to bear and he would hate to make you a target.
He’s experienced many battles and has faced numerous foes, so he’s very wise and experienced. He’s faced scenarios where his morals come into play, and that’s something he’s not fond of. He rather preserve his integrity and do things in a way that aligns with his inner values. He’s been granted many opportunities to do things in an underhanded manner, yet he has never taken that  opportunity.
𓆩♡𓆪
“Please please please!” You jump up and down in innocent joy, but the man before you pinches the bridge of his nose.
“No.”
“Why not? Please! I promise this is my last time asking.” You plead with him, moving to hold onto his arm.
“That’s the exact same line you use every time.” “It is not!” You retort.
“You said the same thing yesterday.”
“Welt, please!” Now you fix him with a pleading look, a look you know he can’t resist.
“Name, my ability to manipulate gravity is a powerful one that comes with great responsibility. It shouldn’t be used as a measly… ahem..” His cheeks take on a pink hue as he coughs into his fist.
You’ve pressed yourself against him, your head tilted as you gaze at him with that look in your eyes.
“…this is the last time.” His gruff response brings you to life, your eyes alighting with joy as you remove yourself from him.
He misses the warmth of your body, but your smile provides him with a permeating warmth that is different, but comforting all the same.
“You always say that.” Your bratty response irks him. In an instant your world is flipped upside down as your feet are lifted off the floor.
“Yay! Thank you Welt.” He can’t find it in himself to be annoyed when you’re doing silly little flips as your body floats in the air.
This has become a regular occurrence for you. Occasionally, when you’re in the mood to be a bit silly, you’ll ask Welt to use his gravity manipulation to suspend you in air.
He was opposed to it, but eventually you wore him down. Now, he agrees to give you a few moments of fun, although sparingly.
His gaze is soft as he watches you enjoy the moment with childlike glee, before you’re gently lowered to the ground once more.
“There. Satisfied?” His voice is rough and his gaze won’t meet yours, but his heart pounds in his chest. You really are too cute.
“Yes! Thank you, and I’m sorry I keep pestering you about it… but… I appreciate it.” You saddle up beside him and wrap your arms around him in a grounding hug.
He smiles.
“Don’t worry about it.” Is his simple response. He presses a sweet kiss to the crown of your head, before he rests his on top of yours.
Fwip!
You glance behind you when you hear the sound, just in time to see the door to your shared bedroom close shut. Your eyes study the webs on the door handle before you swivel around to face Welt.
His cheeks are tinted pink once more, but he meets your curious gaze.
“Let’s.. enjoy each other’s company for the remainder of the day.” His words cause your own face to heat up, but a sly smirk soon presents itself on your lips.
“Can’t get enough of me, can you?” You relish the look he fixes you with, and you willingly follow his lead to your neatly made bed.
“On the contrary, with that attitude of yours I get more than my fill of you.” His words are contradictory to his actions, since he’s pulling you closer as his lips seek yours.
You smile when his lips finally meet yours.
🕷🕸 ๋࣭ ⭑⛓
‧₊˚ ┊Baizhu ⚕ *: ♥
With swift and deadly attacks that require minimal movement, Baizhu is always quick to subdue the enemy
Some days are harder than others for him, as he has a chronic illness. He still gets the job done, and he’s always advocating for others in a similar situation as him. He doesn’t reveal much to the media, but he does like to tell anyone who may hear “If I can be spiderman, then I know you can do anything you set your mind to.”
Instead of a spider biting him it was a snake. A talking snake no less. Her name is Changsheng, and she travels with him almost all the time.
Many ask to pet Changsheng. He turns down most requests but on rare occurrences he may let an individual do so (mainly children)
Has miraculous healing powers. He’s also a good sport at taking heavy hits, but he can only handle so much. Still, he’s stronger than you’d think, and he’s great at sporting others back to health. It’s almost like they were never sick at all once Baizhu tended to them. Unfortunately, his illness always seems to flair after he does so…
Speaking of, he’s well loved, Dr. Baizhu. He literally has a 5 star rating and everyone raves about him. You would think he would limit clients since he constantly gets a large influx of them, but he’s too kind to do anything of the sort.
Sometimes you have to scold him and force him to coax him into taking it easy; he tends to take on a bit more than he can handle.
He’ll say cheesy things like “You’re the remedy I’ve been searching for all my life. Most certainly.” Whenever you two are alone and spending quality time together. You can only smile when he tells you these things; He’s too cute to feign annoyance with.
He’s immune to poison. Don’t ask why he just is. (It’s totally not an added benefit of a contract he made)
𓆩♡𓆪
Your fingers gently scrub the area, and a noise akin to the sound of a satisfied cat purr is heard.
You bite your lip as you try to contain your smile, even though he wouldn’t be able to see it anyway.
You’ve finished lathering Baizhu’s hair in the floral conditioner. He allows you to finish the process of rinsing his hair, and the result is satisfactory. His hair, which now has the floral scent of the conditioner, has a renewed sheen to it.
“Your hair is gorgeous, Baizhu. Well taken care of too.” You hum, guiding him as you both move to sit down.
You sit on the couch, and have him sit in front of you on the floor.
You gently dry his hair as he leans back into you. It causes you to get a few droplets of water on your person but that’s insignificant to you.
It’s been a long time since you’ve seen your boyfriend so relaxed. He’s been overworking himself again, not only with his job as a doctor but with his spiderman man duties.
You insisted on a self care day since he has the day off, and you prayed people would stay in line today so he wouldn’t have to suit up.
It seems your prayers were answered; it’s now late evening and the orange hue of the sky is slowly morphing into a starry night sky.
The streets remain peaceful today.
A groan from Baizhu draws your attention.
He’s looking up at you with furrowed brows. “I thought I told you to stop worrying so much about me.” You ‘tsk’ at the audacity of his claim, opting to flick his forehead. It was a light flick, but he acts as if you’ve scorched him.
He hisses. He sounds like Changsheng.
You giggle.
“I know you aren’t telling me to stop worrying.” You shake your head in dismay, albeit a knowing smirk is on your lips.
“Name, I know I am not one to talk but I promise you I’ll take better care of my mental wellbeing. You have my word.” He places a comforting hand on your knee. The touch brings warmth to your skin.
“Promise?” Your voice is quiet. It sounds small. You’d be surprised if he even heard you.
You open your mouth to repeat your question, sure he hadn’t heard you, but he speaks before you can voice the question once more.
“I promise.” His statement is firm. When you look into his golden snake-like eyes, they’re full of life. Determination emanates from their intense gaze.
You believe him.
“Okay, good. I hate to see you like that, you know…” His gaze softens at the obvious concern on your face. He understands it comes from a place of love, so he only nods in understanding.
“I’m sorry sweetheart.” He reaches for your hand, still a bit wet from washing his hair, yet he places a kiss to your palm nonetheless.
With that, you resume your task.
You take your time braiding his hair. It’s relaxing, and the diffuser you have going only adds to the calm atmosphere.
As soon as you finish braiding his hair Baizhu moves. It startles you, but you’re soon put to ease when he sits beside you.
His arms wrap around you, and he rests your head on his shoulder. Your eyes fall shut as you breathe in the floral scent of his hair.
“Thank you.” He whispers the words, and you feel the soft press of his lips on your forehead. You feel the same touch on your nose, your cheek, your eyelids, until they finally press against your lips.
When he pulls away, you respond with a thank you of your own. He seems taken aback by your words, but then the sweetest smile lifts his lips.
“You are quite welcome.”
🕷🕸 ๋࣭ ⭑⛓
♡. Blade 🗡⭒⚠︎︎ ⛓°˖ 
He is the second spiderman in Caelus’s verse
He honestly feels as if the whole Spiderman role is a curse rather than a blessing, but he still plays the role nonetheless.
When he feels like it
Most people only know of Caelus as spiderman, but once Blade also took on the role there were rumors of a darker, more sinister spiderman seen webbing from building to building during the late hours of the night
Of course Caelus had to investigate said rumors, and that led to a one on one encounter with Blade and.. Kafka?
Long story short Blade begrudgingly helps Caelus out when he’s in a jam, but for the most part he keeps to the shadows and does his own thing. Whether what he does is morally ‘right or wrong’ doesn’t concern him.
He has the symbiote, Venom, and he absolutely hates it. Yet, well, here they are.
There was an incident when things got a little.. tense between Caelus and Blade. Before the situation escalated Kafka was able to get Blade under control.
Overall he doesn’t really do too much as ‘spiderman,’ but you’ll definitely have a chance at catching him beat the absolute shit out of a robber in a dark alley, their cries for help muffled as they’re eaten alive by the symbiote :D
Unfortunately for Blade, Kafka isn’t particularly fond of him eating people, due to the hassle of keeping it on the down-low. He’s supplied with massive amounts of chocolate to substitute for the people he was firmly told he can no longer consume, unless it’s a dire situation.
Blade truly sees his life as a misfortune, especially during moments where Caelus coerces him into helping him out. He’s really under no obligation to help, but something about Caelus persuades him to comply (albeit begrudgingly).
They make a great duo! Surprisingly. Like, Caelus can already be a hard hitter, when he chooses to use his bat, but add Blade into the mix? Whoever they’re fighting is not surviving that fight.
𓆩♡𓆪
Your hands slip under his shirt, cold against the warm skin of his abdomen. You trace the outline of his many scars; they feel rough against the delicate pads of your fingers. You move closer to Blade, burying your head into the crook of his neck.
You can feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest against your own; it soothes you.
He moves, his hands slipping under your shirt as well, tracing the curve of your spine.
“You really are such a handful…” He murmurs the words, quiet and emitting a gentle warmth. You shiver from his gentle touch, cold fingers leisurely teasing your skin.
You debate speaking up, to let him know you’re awake, but you quickly decide against it when he speaks once more.
“No one could compare to you. When I’m with you, I feel a warmth I haven’t felt in a long, long time…” Blade’s uncharacteristically honest words cause your heart to swell.
You struggle to contain your smile. You feel him shift closer to you, and soon a pair of surprisingly soft lips are pressed against your temple.
He remains silent now. Enjoying the peaceful atmosphere, running his hands along your skin.
“I love you too.” You finally say. He startles for a moment, and it makes you giggle. When you pull your head away from his neck you’re barely able to make out the sight of his flushed cheeks before he shoves your face back to its previous position.
He says nothing, but the smile on his face says all the things he fails to put into words.
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yanderestarangel · 1 month
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Okay, so I was thinking about yandere Peter B and Miguel O’Hara with FTM reader. Both men obsessed and possessive with them ever since they joined the society.
And they both share them. Kinks could be breeding, size difference, degradation, praising kink? Miguel could be a hard dom and Peter a soft dom. You could add more if ya like.
Your writing is absolutely amazing!
🕸️🕷️ 》 OUR LITTLE SPIDER || PETER B. PARKER AND MIGUEL O'HARA X FTM READER ||
A/N: I made it in headcanon format because I was too lazy to make a one shot, but I hope you like it.
THIS WAS A LITTLE TOO LONG SORRY--- ᜊ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᜊ.
TW: age gap, smut, yandere content, dark romance, daddykink, praise!kink, size!kink, possession, manipulation, ftm reader, betrayal, breed!kink, v!sex, anal!sex, overstimulation, kidnapping, blackmail, murder, aphrodisiac use, dub con, threesome, creampie.
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Being in the spidersociety was a big responsibility role for you, but you accepted it anyway, after all you had the sense of hero that each spider variant had. You didn't expect so much attention or flattery for you but that's what you received from two specific people ─ Miguel O'Hara, your boss and Peter B. Parker, the most peaceful and sweet spider man you met in Spider society. You swore you saw hearts form in the two older men's orbs simultaneously.
You quickly saw things escalate to a strange level. Miguel was very protective of you, even putting you on "easier" missions like staying at the spider society headquarters and giving him boring reports.
"You're safe here. Being a spider-man isn't just about battling villains, it's about learning responsibility. You're still a little spider, carinõ." the Mexican would speak as he gave you more papers to fill out. While on the other hand, Peter agreed with everything the leader said, complementing even more.
"Miguel is right, baby boy. You still have a lot to learn." The older man gestured excitedly and you accepted, defeated and sighing.
O'Hara watched everything with a chill passing through him, he tried not to let his thoughts speak loudly but he knew that Peter was also interested in you, just like the Mexican was.
"You shouldn't be so close to him, Peter. Your wife will be jealous." O'Hara hissed the words like venom coming out of his fangs, while the other spider-man just smiled relaxedly and looked at the younger man.
"You want to compete for him? Is that it Miguelito? You liked him too, didn't you? We can share." Peter spoke as he saw you oblivious to the dark conversation you were both having.
The proposal for a share was denied in the first instance, but every day it seemed more tempting for the spider leader, for several reasons. The main one was that you were getting closer to other spider variants and Peter, being more social, was keeping up with your pace ── at the same time that you realized that some spider variants no longer wanted to talk to you, if that variant presented romantic interest in you, they disappeared and came back with deep bruises, diverting topics with you and leading you to turn to Peter.
Little did you know that the nice family man was the cause of that. He was sick for you, to the point of abandoning his purposes and character ── you and his daughter were the only things that mattered to him at that moment, he told himself that he still loved Mary Jane... But he also loved you.
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Peter was getting rid of another spider variant using threats and pure blackmail to do so, but the poor victim that time had no chance after Miguel appeared and took out his fury on them. The tall man sloppily wiped the blood off his hands as he turned to Peter.
"Okay... I accept your proposal, let's share the ninõ." O'Hara spoke in a calm, cold and insane tone, while he saw Parker smile and nod his head ── after this previous peace agreement between them, it was his life's turn to become a sweet hell.
You had no one else inside or outside the spider society, Peter and Miguel were the only ones who spoke to you. (Peter's threat + Miguel's tyrannical power with the other spider variants in secret was the reason for his involuntary isolation.)
In addition to the fact that the Mexican used his entire database to find out about your family, friends and possible love interests outside the society he had control over ── some were bought with money, others were threatened and others... They were found in alleys and became news on TV channels.
Everything was falling apart in your life, even your college grades and your mental state and all you had left was the comfort of the two older men... Exactly as you both planned.
You ran into their arms while crying and venting ── an Oscar award was supposed to be presented to the duo, both of them pretended shock and indignation while you told them every detail. So when you were weakened enough, they acted, bringing you into their possession, protecting you from the cruel world that was made worse in their minds.
Compliments, gifts, words of positive affirmations and everything sweet and warm in the world they gave you. Miguel was more desperate for touch, placing you on his lap while he worked on the panels of the multiverse or giving you small, intimate but not vulgar kisses, something that asserted a silent and slow dominance ── away from curious eyes, after all he was still the leader of that society.
Peter on the other hand would give you more affection in public, you and him would even go for a walk together with mayday as a family, away from Mary Jane's eyes. He would also lie to you saying that he and his wife were separated and even show the old divorce paper to prove something to you... You were trapped in a spider web of lies and dirty manipulations.
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And when you realized, you were in a relationship with both men ── they asked you if it was okay for you to deal with both of them at the same time, which you denied, too drunk with pleasure to think about anything more than both filling you to the brim (an effect that was also the fault of the aphrodisiac Miguel had put in your drink that day.)
Peter's hands took off your spider uniform while O'Hara's thick hands went towards your wetness, playing roughly with your clit "mi hermoso" the spider leader growled in your ear as one of his thick fingers entered inside you, making you moan ─ at the same time that Peter sucked your nipples and gently squeezed your breasts, his experienced hands were working magic on your body. Raw kisses were left by the older man on your abdomen, as Parker knelt and licked your clit, helping O'Hara prepare you even more for what was to come.
"You're already dripping for us, aren't you? Such a good little slut." The tanned man teased as he stuck a second finger in your cunt, stretching you in scissor movements, back and forth. Peter got out on his knees as he captured your lips lightly moaning huskily against your flesh: "Such a beautiful and good boy for us... You make your daddies proud like that little spider." He said as Miguel pressed his hard, pulsing erection against your ass, making you moan loudly against the other man's lips.
The two bodies fit perfectly inside you, practically crushing you with their heat as you tried not to cum on O'Hara's fingers, but the effort was in vain as you felt him easily reach your cervix. You felt one of Peter's fingers soon find your other hole, making you moan even more against his lips.
"That's it, my spider boy. Show us how much you want it." The voices mixed together as you felt like you were going to explode at any moment and it actually happened ── you came, squirting onto Miguel's forearm and dripping onto the floor as all your muscles contracted involuntarily.
"I knew it was going to be a fucking squirt." The spider leader said, laughing, as you left for the next step ── you just left yourself there, your body for the two of them to use as they wanted, you just wanted to feel good and they would guarantee that.
With careful coordination and chemistry between the three of you, you found yourself sitting on Peter's lap, your back pressed against his chest as he guided his cock to your tight hole. Meanwhile, Miguel positioned himself at your front, his hands gripping your hips as he slowly entered your dripping pussy. "Te ves tan hermoso."
Peter couldn't help but let out a groan of satisfaction as he finally buried his cock deep inside your tight ass, the feeling of being completely enveloped by your warmth and tightness was overwhelming for him, he had to fight against the urge to just thrust into you with abandon. Instead, he took deep breaths to steady himself, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "Fuck, you feel incredible, baby boy. So tight and eager for me... You wanted that, didn't you? Being filled by two dicks, a greedy, needy boy..."
Miguel's primal instincts took over as he felt the tightness of your pussy around his cock, the blissful sensation causing a guttural moan to escape his lips. "I'm going to breed in that beautiful pussy of yours, boy... You're going to be our breed whore... We're going to always leave you full of cum, in that beautiful hole of yours." Miguel's hips moved in sync with Peter's, his thrusts gaining speed and force as he aimed to push you over the edge. "So beautiful and obedient, If you continue like this, being a good boy will be rewarded ok?.." the older man moaned as you felt Peter and Miguel's cocks stretch you to the edge, letting you drool on both of their cocks like an animal in heat. Just as you thought you couldn't take it anymore, your climax crashed over you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing with pleasure as you moaned their names. Parker and O'Hara continued their relentless thrusts, prolonging your orgasm and riding the waves of your ecstasy, but they hadn't stopped yet. Peter's thrusts grew more frantic as he felt your body convulse under him, the pleasure building within him as well. He knew that his release wasn't far behind.
"You're so damn tight, baby. Fuck, I'm gonna come--" His voice was filled with a mix of pleasure and urgency as he increased the pace of his thrusts. O'Hara felt his own release drawing near, your tight pussy milking his cock with each powerful thrust. His grip on your hips tightened as he neared his own climax. "Holy shit little boy, you're really going to get pregnant with us, aren't you?" As both men reached their climaxes, they filled you with their seed. Peter's hot cum filled your tight ass, while Miguel's release spilled into your pussy, marking you as theirs. Their bodies shuddered as they reached their peaks, their gazes locked on yours. Nothing needed to be phallus, not when both of your eyes reflected their red, sickly hearts, surrounded by possession and pleasure for you.
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redstarwriting · 11 months
Text
the clash | vi. (with someone you shouldn’t’ve)
hobie brown x goth!reader
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word count: 2.2k
genre: enemies to lovers
warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you (sort of), you hating hobie, angry hobie, death, there’s a murder, SORT OF GRAPHIC death scene, injuries, ANGST, a plot twist!, sort of allusions to s*icide
a/n: ok y’all. this one’s a lil shorter, but this is where it starts getting whacky. the way i’m writing this is sort of like if i was writing a comic book, so this is a WHOLE ASS PLOTLINE that i could see being illustrated in my brain. i hope you enjoy, bc it’s about to get WILD. don’t worry tho the fluff will come bc i’m soft(ish)
previous chapter: v. ever fallen in love
now reading: vi. (with someone you shouldn’t’ve)
next chapter: vii. i wanna be sedated
───────────────────────────────────
First thing’s first, Hobie needs to find out where the Prowler of your world might be. He could always call Miles and ask him where his Uncle Aaron lived, but that seems a little… insensitive. If there’s anything he knows about the Prowler, he knows that he’s a thief. So, Hobie snatches your police dispatcher and listens for some burglaries being reported. Getting any type of assistance from the police pains him to his very core, but he’s not about to wake you up and let you know what he’s about to do. He crouches on the railing of your balcony and stares out at your city. He hears calls about someone robbing a Bloodega, not the Prowler. Some kids snuck into a club, also not what he needs. “Come on, pigs,” he mumbles, “give me somethin’ useful here.”
That’s when his ears perk up.
“Reports of someone lurking around of Oscorp Labs, suspicions that it might be the Prowler. Units on standby for Spider-Goth, do not engage with the Prowler.”
Do not engage? What the hell? Isn’t he a villain? Hobie quickly understands what’s going on.
He works with the cops.
Fuck this assshole.
He leaps off your balcony, webbing his way through your city. It may not be his style, necessarily, but it’s a nice place. He can see why you like it so much. He’s actually been webbing through it more than he ever expected to with how much he visits you. He knows deep down that he’s visiting so much only to see you, but outwardly he likes to pretend it’s just to see Shadow. He knows more about your world than Miles, Pav, or Gwen’s which is interesting considering he’s known you only about 3 and a half months. Luckily, you live only a short web swing away from Oscorp, so he can’t get too lost in his thoughts about you and can end this guy faster. He lands on the top of the building and glances around. He notices a perfectly cut hole in the glass a few floors down, so he crawls down and through into the building. It’s dark. He tries to stay as quiet as he possibly can because he knows that’s how you would do it, but damn. He just isn’t good at stealth. And this is factual apparently, because he gets the feeling someone is watching him and just barely jumps out of the way from what looks like a whip covered in spikes. He lands on the ground in a crouched position when he hears a somewhat familiar sounding voice. “Who the hell are you?”
“Can ask you the same question, mate,” Hobie says, “The answer will make this whole thing so much easier.”
“You one of that freak’s friends?”
“Something like that,” Hobie responds. “I take it you’re the Prowler?”
“The one and only,” he says, and Hobie rolls his eyes under his mask. “Mate, do I have some news for you,” he snorts, and the Prowler flicks his wrist. His whip makes some mechanical noise and green and purple light starts shining through it in little places where the metal isn’t completely welded together. Hobie motions to it. “Bet you’re proud a’ that. What are you? A cybergoth? cyborgoth?”
“I’ll ask this one more time. Who are you?”
“Name’s Spider-Man, also known as Spider-Punk,” Hobie says, and the Prowler groans. “There’s another one? You’ve got to be kidding.”
“There’s a lot more than just me and them, mate,” Hobie crouches down, ready to leap out of the way if need be. “Why are you here? Where’s my insect at?”
Hobie doesn’t like the way he called you his. “They’re not yours,” he hisses at him. The Prowler is quiet for a moment before laughing. “Oh. I see. Didn’t know they had a boyfriend,” he says, before whipping towards Hobie. He jumps out of the way in time, but almost doesn’t because boyfriend? Excuse me? “Not their boyfriend!” he yells, landing on the ceiling and glaring down at the Prowler. “No? Then why are you here? I figured it was because of how badly I beat them. Their screams were so entertaining.” Hobie hates this man. He clenches his jaw. “Nowhere near as entertainin’ as yours’ll be, dickhead,” he grunts, jumping down and shooting a web at the Prowlers legs. Luckily, the Prowler wasn’t expecting that, and Hobie is able to yank his legs out from underneath him. He falls hard, and Hobie smirks. “Oh sorry, did that hurt?” Hobie says, and the Prowler growls, standing up faster than Hobie anticipated. “I’ll kill you.”
“Not if I kill you first, mate,” Hobie says, anger seeping out of his words. “A spider that willingly kills, huh? Is that why you came to find me?” he chuckles, “I feel like you and I could be good friends,” the Prowler’s chuckle turns into a laugh, and it pisses Hobie off even more. “I’d rather die than be friends with someone like you,” Hobie shoots another web at him, but this time the prowler dodges it. He flicks his wrist, and Hobie feels the whip make contact with his side. He grunts in pain. This must be what got you earlier today. “That can be arranged. You’re even worse than your little partner,” the Prowler says, and Hobie can hear the smirk. He wants to punch that fucking smirk off his stupid face. Hobie stands again, grabbing his guitar. If it’s a fight to the death this fucker wants, it’s a fight he’ll get. And Hobie will not be dying tonight. “Oh, what are you gonna do? Power chord me out of existence?”
“More like beat your ass until you kick it,” Hobie growls, “but if ya want me to do it with style, I’ll play ya a song over your dead body.”
“Bold of you to assume I’ll be the one dying tonight,” the Prowler says and uses his whip again. Hobie jumps out of the way, and his eyes widen as he dodges two bullets in midair. He lands on the ground and sees that the Prowler’s gauntlets are guns as well. He scoffs. “How much that suit cost ya?”
“Would have cost a lot if I didn’t steal it or invent it myself, but I did,” Hobie dodges two more bullets, but lands directly on the Prowlers whip, causing him to slip and fall. “Luckily my agreement with the police got me the state-of-the-art tech that I needed,” the Prowler confesses. “Fuck,” Hobie grunts, jumping up as quickly as he can. “I’m gonna love telling Spider-Goth I took down their boyfriend.”
“Not their boyfriend!” Hobie yells, jumping out of the way of his whip, and more bullets.
“I find that very hard to believe.”
“Look, how ‘bout we settle this without any gadgets, eh? See who wins then?” Hobie says, and the Prowler scoffs. “If you can’t beat me at my best, you can’t beat me at my worst.”
“Actually, yeah I can. Dunno if you’re realizin’, but I’m still alive and breathin’,” Hobie says, jumping out of the way of his whip yet again. This time, though, Hobie was prepared. He webs the whip and yanks it as hard as he can. The Prowler is airborne as Hobie swings him to the other side of the room. He lands with a thud, and Hobie webs over to him, doing a flip to land a kick directly to the face. The Prowler manages to get his whip wrapped around Hobie’s ankle and flings him back across the room. He crashes into some glass wall and groans. “As much as I fuck with your ‘fuck the establishment attitude,’ Spider-Goth ain’t gonna be too happy with me if I destroy another buildin’,” Hobie says, shaking his head, hearing some glass fall down next to him. Then, the alarms start blaring. ‘Great, probably broke somethin’ important,’ he thinks before noticing a piece of glass stuck in his arm. ‘Gotta make this quick,’ he thinks, grunting as he pulls the glass out of his arm. “Like I give a fuck what makes them mad,” the Prowler says, running towards Hobie. He leaps out of the way, webbing his leg again and causing him to slip and fall. Hobie then delivers a blow to the side of his face with his guitar, but thanks to his armor, it just hurts him more than anything.
Then Hobie hears hissing. He leaps up onto the ceiling just before a mechanical snake was about to sink its stupid metal fangs into him. “Made yourself friends ‘cause ya ain’t got any? I’d be gutted for you if ya weren’t such a dick,” Hobie says, webbing the snake and jumping off of the ceiling. He does a flip in midair, swinging the snake with him and throwing it at the Prowler. He dodges just in time, but Hobie is able to deliver another blow to him. This time, Hobie goes for his leg. And he hears a crack. Just as he wanted. The Prowler shrieks out in pain. 
Hobie lands next to him and bends down. “Hope that hurt, fucker,” he spits, striking his other leg in the same fashion. He dodges the mechanical snake again, grabbing it and using his strength to break it in one squeeze. He throws it to the side and dodges more bullets from the Prowler’s gauntlets. Unsurprisingly, Hobie goes for both arms next. He stops when the man is rendered completely useless, rolling the Prowler over on his back. “I win,” Hobie says, and even he is taken aback at how menacing his voice sounds. The Prowler grunts, “You sure you’re a good guy?” Hobie ignores him and stands beside his head. “I do what I want. Any last words?”
The Prowler is silent for a moment before speaking. “Tell them that their boyfriend would have been able to save–”
Hobie doesn’t let him finish.
In fact, Hobie has trouble stopping even after he knows the deed is done. He didn’t even give Osborn this kind of disrespect. But this guy is different. All Hobie has to do is think about the state of your back, how you still blame yourself for what this motherfucker did to someone you cared so much about, and he’s swinging his guitar again.
He only stops when there’s nothing left to hit.
He breathes heavily, observing what he’s done in the flashing red lights as the alarm blares in the background. He walks back to the window, glancing back at what he’s done before leaping out and webbing away as fast as possible. He hopes no one saw him. Doesn’t want anyone confusing you for him.
He lands on your balcony and sees Shadow waiting for him inside the doors. He opens them and hears the cat meow at him. He leans down, giving him a few scratches, before opening a portal to his world. He goes home, falling on his bed. He groans, feeling the injuries he got for the first time. The adrenaline was keeping him going that entire fight. He gets up, and begins mending his injuries. Halfway through the last set of stitches he has to give himself, he gets a call on his watch from Miguel. He rolls his eyes, ready to get yelled at for, ‘interfering with the fate of the multiverse, yaddah yaddah yaddah blah blah blah boring boring boring.’
“Yeah, what d’ya want?” he answers, finishing up his stitches. “Get to Spider Society immediately.”
“I’m a little busy here, mate can it–”
“NO! It can’t wait, Hobie! Get here now!” Miguel screams, hanging up. Hobie groans. He was supposed to go back to your world so when you wake up, he would be there and explain why he did what he did. He could just go back… but then Miguel might show up in your world. And he sure as hell doesn’t want that. Sighing, he opens a portal to earth-2099, walking through and ending up in Miguel’s multi-screened research room. “Do you know what you did.”
“Killed a bloody villain, what of it?” Hobie asks, already annoyed. Miguel pounds his fist on the desk. “You interfered with (Y/n)’s timeline, Hobart!”
“I was protecting them!”
“YOU CREATED AN ANOMALY!” Miguel screams, and Hobie frowns. “How did I–”
“You killed a villain not a part of your own world, a villain who played a role in a major canon event of (Y/n)’s and now–”
“Would you come off it with the fuckin’ canon events?! Whatever it is will be resolved in one way or another!”
“Hobie you don’t understand–”
“He hurt them! Was I just supposed to stand around and let it happen?!”
“YES! We’re Spider-People it’s part of the job,” Miguel screams, and Hobie rolls his eyes. “I thought you hated them anyways, why did you want to protect them so bad?!” Miguel asks, and Hobie freezes. That… is actually a good question. He sees your injuries in his mind again and his frown deepens. Why did he want to protect you? Surely, he doesn’t… like you? No, he wouldn’t have done what he just did for a just a friend, though he would have still hunted the Prowler down. But the thought of him hurting you drove him to do unspeakable things… which he did. Is it… does he like you romantically?
His eyes widen. It would make sense if he felt that way. He was around you 24/7. These past two days were torture. He likes the way you challenge him. He likes the way you look, he likes the way you speak, he likes– “Hobie. Answer me.” His thoughts get cut off by Miguel, and he swallows hard. “I… I actually can’t answer that right now,” he says, and Miguel frustratedly runs his hand through his hair. “Hobie. What you just did…”
“Is bad, I know–”
“It’s not just bad. It’s detrimental.”
“What do you–”
“Do you know who you killed?” Miguel asks, and Hobie scoffs. “Obviously. I killed the Prowler, probably some variant of Aaron Davis or–”
“The Prowler on Earth-666 is not Aaron Davis,” Miguel says, frowning at him. “Did I kill Miles? You know his voice did sound kind of familiar…” Hobie asks, feeling a little worse about the way he handled the situation. “No. It wasn’t Miles, either.” Hobie looks up at Miguel, who takes a deep breath. “The Prowler on Earth-666 was Hobart Brown.”
Hobie feels like he just got hit with a pound of bricks. This is too much for him to process in one night. “I… what?”
“You just killed yourself.” Hobie shakes his head. “I–”
“He sounded familiar because he was you. Just without the English accent,” Miguel says. “Did (Y/n) know?” he asks, less concerned with the fact that he technically killed himself, and more concerned with the fact that he did all of those things to you. Miguel shakes his head no. “They didn’t. They were never supposed to know,” Miguel affirms, and Hobie lets out a shaky breath. He unclenches the fists he didn’t realize he formed. He feels the indents his nails made on his palms, but he doesn’t care. He was genuinely scared for a minute there. How would you react towards him if you know he was the one torturing you for so long? He nods. “Good.”
“There’s something else I need to tell you, Hobie,” Miguel says, and Hobie looks at him. “You changed a canon event. So far, the world seems stable… but you’re not going to like what will happen next,” Miguel says, turning away from him. Hobie jumps up to the platform Miguel is standing on. “Will (Y/n) be okay?” he sounds a little too frantic, and Miguel glances over at him. “You care too much for them.”
“Bollocks,” Hobie retorts, and Miguel sighs. “I knew you would like them,” he mumbles before pulling up information on your Earth onto the monitors. Hobie sees the Venom symbiote pop up and frowns. You haven’t had to deal with that yet. “The Venom symbiote was meant to bond to Hobart Brown on (Y/n)’s Earth. Now, the symbiote is going to bond to (Y/n), which is bad. This symbiote is unlike the other Venoms. It’s angrier. Deadlier. He would have been the worst enemy they ever had to face. I’ve been mentoring them as a secret way to help them train to be able to defeat him because… well…”
“Cause what?”
“Hobie Brown with the Venom symbiote would have been unstoppable,” Miguel says, turning to Hobie and delivering information that makes a chill run down his spine.
“Hobart Brown was meant to kill (Y/n) (L/n).”
───────────────────────────────
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