#when testosterone was brought up ? ?
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do Not think abt how high a sex drive bakugou katsuki probably has or u'll die .
#he works out soooo much he is soooo physically active he sleeps soooo much he doesnt smoke ( ever ) or drink ( often )#his testosterone levels are Sooooo up there r u kidding mi .. @ ~ @;;#do u know how many rounds it would take for him 2 start shootin blanks . . .#< bakugou 3#we were chatting abt sex hormones in relation to immunity in lab 2dai n u know what the first thing i thought of was#when testosterone was brought up ? ?#BAKUGOUIO727/!/9&#sorrie but liiiike . Gosh . Goshiiiiie ૮꒰ྀི⊃⸝ ⸝ ⸝⊂꒱ྀིა he is Such a man . . .#all hard sinew ): shoulders squared n back broad ): js so big in both stature n presence ):#mmmn 🥺 need 2 drool n slobber all ovr it .
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drunk so i can’t be coherent about it but i gotta post it before i go ti sleep and forget cause ive had a revelation cause who the fuck was giving charlie vaccines every month like was established in the quarantine episode like how no adverse health effects??? unless?? t shots?? what the fuck else could be a shot a boy could need every month ?? idk seems like pretty damning evidence for transmasc charlie thruthers idk something to think about
#let me know if this isn’t an original thought#just thought i came up with it when my friend brought up the shots and i was like yo that’s testosterone there#but maybe i accessed it from deep in my subconscious cause i heard it before
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YOU’VE GOT THE CURE (EVERYTHING I NEED) | B. KATSUKI.
✮ tags ; gn + afab!reader, soft dom!reader, sub!bakaugou, developing relationships, mutual pining and ambiguous relationships, anal play (m!recieving), dry orgasms, p in v, unprotected sex, 18+
✮ wc ; 6.7k
✮ a/n ; an anon comission from a beloved mutual im posting. also just dropping in to say hello
✮ synopsis ; katsuki is too fucking young to have erectile dysfunction, damn it.
“Hey.”
“Hm?”
The sound of your typing is especially loud in the empty office. It’s a Saturday and neither of you are supposed to be clocked in, but when duty calls - it’s up to the two of you to answer.
“...I’m going to tell you something. If you so much as fucking laugh I will kill you.”
You don’t look up from your screen.
“Well that’s one way to start a sentence. I’ll try not to laugh.”
Katsuki slams his hand on the desk.
“I’m being serious,” He says in a half-yell. You look up from the edge of your laptop unflinchingly with a displeased frown, shaking your head and throwing your hand up half-heartedly.
“Fine, fine - I promise I won’t laugh. Can you stop being all ominous? You sound like Tokoyami.”
“There’s something wrong with me,”
“Well yes,”
“Not like that,” He hisses, taking a deep breath. He leans forward with his elbows on the table, hands clasped seriously as he covers his face. “...I think my fucking..thing..is broken.”
There’s a loud noise like a muffled laugh but when Katsuki looks up your expression is completely blank. Your lips are pressed tight, eyes out of focus as you continue to type. Or pretend to. True to your word, you don’t laugh but Katsuki still wants to fucking kill you.
“Oh? What uhm,” You clear your throat, lips trembling as you try to keep yourself together. “What brought you to that conclusion?”
He nearly snaps his pen in half.
“What do you fucking think?!”
“Hey. Calm down. I’m doing my best not to laugh but you are not helping.”
This is the sort of thing Katsuki would normally take to his grave. Not only is it genuinely humiliating, it is the sort of painful personal detail he wouldn’t share with anyone even if he was fucking them. It wouldn’t matter either, that his dick isn’t working - if the other ways he relieved stress were.
He’s got an average sex drive, sometimes lower but a high libido. Getting off is a physical response to a bodily need. Like eating food or taking a nap. It’s just because it’s a physical need, it is noticeable when the need doesn’t get met. He is painfully aware of it. It’s been weeks and he thinks he’s starting to lose his mind. Worse? He’s exhausted every human option trying to fix the problem himself, save for going to the dick doctor. His testosterone levels are fine, he gets check-ups more regularly than the average person. Given his reputation is at stake, he’d rather not get prescribed anything. He’s bought ginseng and shitty vitamins and medicine he had to ship from overseas. Anything and everything.
Picking up viagra at the ripe age of twenty four would give him psychic damage he won’t recover from, this much Katsuki is sure of. So not that. But everything else, every natural remedy conceived - he’s tried.
“I don’t know what to do anymore,” He says, pinching the bridge of his nose and willfully ignoring the sound of your strained huffing “I can’t fucking get….it up and I don’t know why. I’ve tried everything. Everything. I’m going crazy,”
“You know, it really says something about our relationship that you can confide to me about these kinds of problems. Like I’m so proud of us,”
“Shut up. I’m already miserable enough without wanting to fucking tell you - but the only other option is Shitty Hair and Izuku. I refuse to buy a single goddamn pill for it, and I know if I go to a doctor they’re gonna recommend it and—” He can’t finish the thought. It’s a little too sincere for the kind of conversation you’re having.
You’re a tactless person, so of course - you don’t bother with going along with the mood. Instead you smile like the evil bastard you are.
“And…?”
“You little—” He sighs rubbing his palms over his hands “And because I can trust you to be the least horrible option.”
“So you acknowledge my valiant efforts as your underling and assistant and know you’d be nowhere without me?”
“Shut up.”
“Aw, you’re sweet,” You say, promptly ignoring him “But yeah, I mean - no judgement. I would ask if you’ve had anything major happen but I unfortunately already know that’s not really the case.”
Yes. You, of all people, would know that no major changes have happened in Katsuki’s external life that would make it hard for his dick to function. You spend so much time together. Minus the time he spends working and catching villains in the world - you’re practically glued to his side. You’re in charge of all of his affairs, his schedule, all other personal things. Katsuki is naturally neurotic, but you handle all of it with grace and care. You know everything about him, which is why he is asking you about this problem.
(Does it border on unprofessional? Of course it does. But your relationship to each other degraded that border a long time ago. You’ve already slept in his bed and met all of his friends. And kissed him, but that’s irrelevant for now)
“I need solutions,” Katsuki offers, totally and utterly defeated by the situation at hand. “I’ve done everything. Taken every goddamn herb, done every meditation. Nothing is working. Nothing. I’m going to go fucking crazy.”
“Do you think just sleeping with someone would help? I know you don’t want to ask any of your friends, but maybe an escort? We can do it discreetly.”
“Fuck no. If it were that easy I would’ve done it.”
You pause. Katsuki can see the focus on your face and doesn’t know if it makes him feel better or worse. After an elongated period of silence, you perk up a little. You lock eyes with him and Katsuki briefly regrets bringing the whole conversation up in the first place.
“Hate to ask,” You say, though there’s not enough embarrassment on your face to make anything of that statement. “But uh, have you tried getting off with other things. Like something that isn’t your dick.”
He feels a flush creeping up his skin. “What the fuck are you talking about!”
“This is an important question,” You emphasize, an expression so alarmingly calm Katsuki doesn’t know if it makes him feel better or worse. “Cause if the answer is no, then that’s basically the best solution.”
“How the fuck is that the best solution? Are you insane?”
“Don’t be such a prude, Mr. Dynamight. You’ve bottomed before. It’s not that different. Have you ever tried it on your own?”
“I fucking hate you.” He replies, closing his eyes and frowning. “No I haven’t. Why the hell would I do something so embarrassing.”
“I know you’re super anal retentive - no pun intended there actually, but can you relax a little? It’s a good solution if nothing else is working. Your dick might be broken but an orgasm is an orgasm.”
“Remind me to never ask you for shit again,”
“I’d love that. Just keep me on payroll. Anyway,” You go back to typing. “I think that should be your first move,”
“How the—are you seriously telling me I should go fuck myself to solve my problem?”
You giggle. “Well it sounds bad when you put it like that. But I guess yeah. I can help pick out some sex toys, maybe, do a little research. If you don’t want to do it in your apartment, there might be a love hotel,”
A blush creeps up against the back of his neck. He covers his face with his hands.
“I’m begging you to shut the fuck up. There’s no,” Another wave of humiliation sets in “There’s no way this is how I’m going about this. Like. Fucking none.”
“The only other option is the good old fashioned doctors appointment, then. Which we can squeeze in over telehealth I think - since you got a check-up pretty recently. Want me to do that instead,”
“Fuck, no. I just,” He groans, feeling the stress make his eye twitch “Fuck.”
There’s a bit of silence and a little typing, like you’ve decided to leave him to his thoughts. Which he doesn’t blame you for, because all things fucking considered - there’s not really any more options. He’s a smart man and even he is fucking stumped. He’s going to have to give into something, eventually. He knows that, but it doesn’t make him feel any better.
As soon as he gets close to giving up, you sit up straighter and give a deep long sigh.
“Hey,” You scratch the side of your face awkwardly. “Do you want me to help you….?”
He stares at you. “With what.”
“With your dick being broken,”
“What?!”
“Don’t yell anymore, you’re giving me a headache,” You express, rubbing your temples. “Look. You need to get off, and you’re probably going to have to use your ass to do it. You don’t want to do it by yourself, and you don’t want to do it with a friend or escort. You’d prefer not going to the doctor's office or taking any pills. I’m offering - I’m not really your friend per se and you trust me enough to ask about it.”
He hates more than anything that you have a point.
“You can’t be fucking serious right now.”
“Hey. If you want your dick to stay broken for a while until you figure it out, do you. I’m just saying. Offering solutions is what you pay me for,”
He pulls back a little.
“...Are you fine with that?”
“Oh banging you? Is that what you’re worried about?” He winces at the direct and crass way you speak. “I like you plenty and you’ve got a pretty face. I’m down if you are,”
“I can’t believe I’m considering this.”
“Really? I totally can,” You snicker, and he really, really considers firing you. “It’s not the first time we’ve crossed boundaries with each other. Just consider it, okay? Before you actually blow a fuse.”
He leans back in his chair and groans.
“Fuck. Yeah, whatever.”
__
It’s another week before Katsuki takes you up on your offer.
Miraculous it took that long, given the amount he suffered stubbornly trying to fix the problem on his own. The lengths he went too are too embarrassing to even disclose or recount but it very quickly became clear that this was not an issue that was going to magically disappear - no matter how hard he tried.
Against his better judgment and after a long, cold shower trying to talk himself out of reality - Katsuki sent you a one line text.
Fine. Come Saturday.
The only thing he could say without dying of complete fucking shame. He’s grateful that’s the time you decided to have some tact.
(Not a lot, since the text back you sent was a peach emoji and a thumbs up. But whatever, he’ll take what he can get.)
It’s Saturday now, and he’s clean. All of him. He’s clean, and just wearing his boxers - sitting on his couch. You’ll be here very soon, and he can’t believe he’s saying this, but he’s nervous.
You did mention you were fine with it. He believes that because there’s been long standing tension between you two for god knows how long he’s not entirely blind too. You sleep at his place sometimes and spend all day with him, and then there was that one time you two kissed (very sober) during New Years. You don’t bring it up because you know he can’t deal with it. Yet he’s comforted by the fact you at least want it (because you’ve said so), and that you’re willing to do this despite the ambiguity in your relationship.
He knows that is inevitably going to come up today. But he really wants to fucking cum. And if it’s with you, then it’s fine. If his head was a little clearer, he would probably reject this whole thing based on his own emotional disparity. God fucking knows he is not in any place to deal with any of that. His heart barely gets by in the office and now you were going to fuck him.
Is he stupid?
Usually no, but because there’s a soft dick and tight balls where his brain used to be, currently yes. Everything put together, it’s a recipe for disaster. He considers telling you to fuck off and forget all this happens.
But then he thinks about the prospect of your hands and your voice and it’s enough to at least get his heart pumping, though his dick still refuses to cooperate.
More than anything, he does trust you. Shitty, smug little fucker you can be sometimes - there’s not a single person who goes out of their way for him. More than just your job, sometimes it feels like every little thing you do is for his sake. Everything you don’t ask of him, every secret you keep. You push him where he needs to go and encourage him to take risks in his career without imposing on him.
He blushes again, laying on his couch. He was nervous before but it’s not any better. Maybe he’s not so much of a dumbass as he is a total fucking masochistic. Is the level of overthinking the shit Izuku goes through? No wonder he’s like that all the time.
He almost jumps out of his skin when he hears the doorbell ring.
He answers the door shirtless and finds you on the other side. You have a cardboard box and the most nonchalant expression he’s ever seen. Normally it would annoy him, but right now he’s kind of comforted by it. You look at him with a flat smile.
“Hey sexy,” You say with no intonation. “Can I come in?”
He gives you a look of disdain. “Don’t ever say that shit to me again. But come in,”
You laugh quietly as he steps aside. You don’t have much with you other than the ominous box and your bag.
“You look like you’ve showered,” You say, taking your shoes off and putting on the house slippers he keeps for you. You don’t even look at him as you go towards his bedroom upstairs. He follows you with mild (faux) annoyance.“What a shame.”
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“I wanted to get a little romantical and help you clean up but you’ve taken that from me. I’m a little hurt.”
“You’re such a dumbass. As if I’d let you do that,”
“Don’t be such a spoilsport. I’m gonna be playing in your ass today anyway.”
“Not the same thing.”
“Tomato, to-mah-to,” You say with a wave of your hands. When you finally get upstairs, you look over your shoulder. Katsuki gets the message quickly enough, helping you with the door. You give him a little smile and let yourself in, dropping the box on the edge of his king sized mattress.
He stands in the doorway for a short while, glancing at you before coming in. You put your bag somewhere on the floor before getting back to the box you’ve brought over. He can guess what’s in it, but he stands with you to open it anyways.
Predictably, the thing is full of sex toys. The first question he wants to ask is how much you spent on all of it, but he bites his tongue.
You look at him and do a little jazz hands gesture. “Tah-dah.”
He gives you a displeased look, but you’re well used to this sort of thing from him. There isn’t actually a whole lot in the box. The theatrics of you bring it upstairs were more likely just you fucking with him for the sake of the bit. He frowns. Typical.
You do have some new things in the box. A few expensive look gadgets, like a pair of quirk canceling handcuffs (decorated with leopard print fur) and something that looks like it goes around his neck. The sex toys that are in there are noticeably high quality. You definitely used his dime to pay for this.
“Handcuffs? Seriously?”
“You’re too much of a control freak and I like not having my hands blown to bits,” You say, shaking your head. “We should establish some ground rules and stuff now.”
“Haah? The fuck are you gonna do that we need rules.”
“I’m not just gonna jump scare you with dominating you. But that is what I’m doing. What we’re doing.” You give him a more serious look, that makes him feel more shy than he cares to admit. “You get what I’m saying? You have to trust me a little, okay?”
He makes a petulant face at you. “I already trust you dipshit,”
“This and that are different,” You say, shaking your head. He refrains from disagreeing with you a second time. They’re really not, but he has no desire to explain that. “I’m gonna touch you and be a little strict. Are you okay with that?”
“I don’t care.”
“That’s not an answer,”
He grits. “I want to cum. And I…trust you or whatever. I already agreed to this. If it’s pissing me off, I’ll just kick you offa me. Anyway, ‘s fine.”
“If you kick me I’m suing you for battery. We can have a safeword. I’m not going to duct tape your mouth and I’m gonna talk you through most of it - but just incase.” You say. He pauses, taken aback by how… delicately you’re treating him. He doesn’t know if he should be pissed about it or not. “Any word is fine. We can use the stoplight system too if you want.”
“Stoplight?”
“Red for stop, yellow for slow, green for go.”
“That’s fine. Easy to remember.”
“Okay,” You nod to yourself, tucking the promise to memory before looking at him more seriously. “Are you okay with intimacy?”
He stares at you.
“The fuck…?”
“Kissing and hand-holding and all that other stuff.”
“Is it necessary?”
“Strictly speaking, no,” You look at him knowingly this time. He’s taken aback, but you’re always like this. You look through him, not at him. “Are you okay with it?”
The implication is there. Do you want it? is the question that goes unasked. Too direct for his tastes. He feels heat spread through his body, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.
“Yeah…’m fine with it.”
Your smile is more genuine this time around. He turns away from you a little.
“Okay. That’s everything out of the way. I’m gonna cuff your arms,” You say. It all feels a little sudden. He figures you’d mean business, but still - he’s not all that prepared. He’s had a week to mentally prepared but that feels like nothing compared to now. There’s an authority to the way you talk now he isn’t sure he’s going to get used too. “Repeat your safewords to me when you turn around.”
He frowns but listens. He puts his hands together in front of him, waiting for you to cuff him, shyness making him hot.
“Uh. Red for stop, yellow for slow down, green for go.”
“Good boy,” You say so smoothly it almost rolls off of him. The cuffs go around his wrists, and Katsuki can feel the familiar sensation of losing his quirk. Now it’s just the both of you. “I’m expecting a little pushback, but generally - you’re to listen to me. Clear?”
“God, fuck - yeah clear,” Katsuki says, feeling ticklish all of a sudden. “All this shitty foreplay is making me feel weird.”
You wrap your arm around his midriff in a sudden movement, making him twitch. He can feel your cheek pressed against his chest as your hands hover over his waistband. He takes in a sharp inhale.
“It’s good that you’re feeling anything.” You say, breath just barely above a whisper. “Gonna take this off,”
He just nods, silently. It’s still on soft, but something is happening in his gut at least. You help him take his boxers down. You’ve probably seen him naked before, more than once. You two being attached at the hip was no joke. This time there’s this lingering anticipation that’s there, and that changes things.
He steps out of his boxers. He’s naked and you’re clothed and his head feels like it’s spinning. Your hand guides him to the edge of the bed. He sits and watches you, but you don’t undress.
The first kiss (second kiss) that you exchange with Katsuki is pleasant. You bend down to do it. It’s a chaste way to meet his lips, weirdly soothing while his stomach is starting to tie in knots. It’s a little surprising how..comfortable it is. Your mouth is soft, your lips taste a little like chapstick and you smell nice. You pull away to kiss the corner of his mouth, trailing down his jaw.
Your thumbs draw over the shell of his ear, rubbing the lobe tender. You’re so different. The contrast in your normal personality is a little too much for him to reconcile with easily, but you brush over these things well enough. He looks away when you meet his eyes.
“Do you wanna lay down or kneel?”
His throat is tight. “...Don’t care.”
You laugh a little to yourself, another kiss. “Lay down then. It’d probably be easier if you put your ass up but knowing you, I doubt it.”
He blushes, annoyed that he’s so obviously predictable to you.
The sheets are soft where he lays. You don’t join him on the bed at first. He just waits there cuffed as you shuffle around for things - lubes and toys and pillows. When you do return to him, you pat his side and slide a pillow underneath his back. He quickly regrets laying down, because god the position is fucking exposing.
You get between his legs and settle there comfortably. A hand rests on his bare thigh, rubbing your thumb into smooth, muscled skin. His breath is hitched. You lean down and kiss his hip. Still no dice on the erection, but you don’t seem discouraged.
You flip the lube open and let it pour onto your fingertips. It’s pink lube. This is mildly irritating, but saying anything will feed into your satisfaction so Katsuki bites his tongue. He watches it as you warm it in your hands, patting his leg with your clean hand.
“Legs up,” You instruct. “And deep breath. Try not to tense.”
“Just goin’ for it, huh?”
You don’t reply to that, but you do smile.
It’s not his first rodeo. His second or third, but certainly not his first - but he’s never had it done for a reason like this. There was an exchange prior, that someone was putting something in him for their pleasure too. This isn’t for that. This is just for him, with your skilled hands and your oddly gentle tendencies that he doesn’t see any other time. That proves to be too much, makes his belly feel honeyed with lust.
The warm, thick sensation of lubed fingers presses against the tight rim of muscle. He breathes and unclenches. Tries not to think too hard about anything. He’s desperate, too desperate. At this point, it’s hard to be prideful. Your hands are noticeably daintier than the ones he’s had in him prior. It’s…weirdly nice. Makes the process easier somehow. He’s reminded that you’re just you, and that makes him more nervous.
“That’s it, baby,” You hum, so soft it’s startling. The way the blood starts to rush in that familiar way nearly makes him sick. Oh, fuck. No way. “Oh?”
No way. No fucking way. No way that’s what does him in.
You pause. He takes in a deep breath, ready to say anything to defend himself. Humiliation spreads through his whole body. He can feel how hard he’s starting to burn, like the blood in his body is struggling to keep up with the desire and pump of his heart. His chest and face start to flush a familiar rose as he grits his teeth and closes his eyes.
Weeks. Weeks and weeks of trying to figure this out. And it was you calling him baby, of all things, to get him at half-mast.
He’s too afraid to open his eyes, but forces himself too. He’s expecting a smug laugh or sarcastic jab but instead you just look surprised. You stare at him, unblinking. He’s so startled he stares back.
“Do you wanna…keep going?”
He gets hard. Fuck.
“S-shit,” He says, wishing he could cover his face with his hands properly. “Yeah,”
He can’t read your expression at all. Annoying. You don’t brush over it though - but you don’t force him to acknowledge it either. Maybe you’re just focused on the fact he finally has something to work with and don’t want to ruin it by making him talk about his feelings.
“Baby,” You say again, smooth and deliberate. There’s that twitch again, something pooling in his gut. He starts to feel nervous. You’re doing the same as before, stretching him and teasing the rim - getting him ready for something else. “You like bein’ my baby, Katsuki?”
He opens his mouth, only to close it again. He tries to choke some word about, telling you go fuck yourself - but he always ends up looking at your face. Your lashes on your cheek. Soft touches and even softer words. He stops knowing what he wants at some point.
“Ugh,” His voice grows thicker. “Don’t ask me that,”
(If he were more apt at honesty, he could admit to you that he just wants you. In whatever way. Sometimes you get like this, when you’re not screwing around - and you’re so good to him that it hurts. He likes your sarcasm and dryness.
But he likes too when you’re this sweet on him too - even if that feels shameful as fuck. That feels like it’s crossing so many more lines that you’re usual self. He knows that better than anyone. It is crossing more lines than usual.
He can’t help but think about it anyway.)
You laugh a little. His eyes go lidded as you continue to work him open. It’s a slow process. You circle his hole with your thumb each time before pushing in. You get one finger in without effort. The second one takes a little more. Another heaved breath and unclenching of his muscles.
He hasn’t felt the sensation of something entering him in so long. He can’t remember when the last time was. He’s antsy as you pump your fingers in and out, stretching him slowly. You find the bottle with your free hand, flicking it open with your teeth and pouring lube onto him directly before you keep going.
“That feel okay?” You mumbles
“Y-yeah. Feels fine,” He huffs, closing his eyes “Feels…good,”
“It’ll feel better soon. Just need to,” You curve the two fingers inside of him up. They search and search and search until—
There. Shit, there.
“Oh, shit,” He gasps, arching himself up as you rub it. You smile at him, pleased. “Fuck,”
You whistle. Katsuki can feel his cock throb properly now, up at full attention. You don’t touch him though. Your other hand grips his thigh for support as you focus your wrist and energy on curling your fingers against his prostate. His stomach flutters, waist tightening.
He’s been fucked before, damn it, but this is different. This is controlled and concentrated. Your fingers are perfect in their motion, pinpoint pleasure making him break out into a feverishness. You’re annoyingly good at this. His whole nervous system feels like it’s being unraveled so slowly. Pulled apart like the slices of a fruit, something for you to pick off and eat.
His head feels like it’s full of cotton, tongue too big for his mouth. Thoughts clouded and inhibition lowered. Real pleasure. He hasn’t felt that in what has to be more than a month now. It’s overwhelming. He’s sensitive and muddy and acting stupidly - he’s well aware. It’s an out of body experience being so unwound in general but this after everything is overstimulating.
God it feels good. How can anything feel this fucking good?
His breathing is erratic, heart pumping trying to keep up with it. Euphoric little pricks start at his abdomen and shoot off through his whole body. Like the splintering ends of a falling star.
He’s never had any orgasm that feels like it needs every muscle in his body to pump through him. It starts in his center and spreads out, melts him slowly. Usually the feeling of needing to cum is passing - just building pleasure until the orgasm hits and the high relaxes. His cock is leaking now with every little press along his insides. Little white dribbles of pre-cum sliding down his shift all the way down to his ass. He doesn’t want to think about how he looks, so he focuses on how it feels.
“Fuck, that feels so good,” His voice almost gives. “Shit, I’m gonna cum if you don’t slow down.”
“You can cum if you want to, Katsuki,” As if to drive the point home by massaging his inner thigh, neglecting his cock “Guess you’re pretty sensitive inside, hm? Gonna make you cum like a girl,”
His blush deepens..
“Haah, fuck - fuck I’m not sensitive. It’s just, hng. Been a while,”
“Don’t be a liar or I won’t let you cum,” You tease.
His eyes shoot wide, brows touching his hairline. “Fuck, d-don’t you dare. .”
You have the nerve to laugh at him. All things considered, maybe you’ve earned. “Just teasing. I’m awful but not that awful. “
“You’re not awful, fuck - just really,” He throws his head back against the sheets. “Need to cum, really need to—”
“Gonna cum without even touching your cock,” You say, half-amused. He shudders when the realization dawns on him.“You’re so sweet.”
He’s drooling. The strength goes out in his jaw as the feeling just builds and builds and builds. It goes on like it’ll never topple.
When it does, it doesn’t feel so much like a rope unsnapping as much as it feels like everything is being pulled from under him. Like the loss of gravity. His abdomen goes tight, the anticipation of it making it impossible to breathe. So close, so close, so close. His brain feels shut off, mindlessly humping along air to capitalize on everything. You’re encouraging only eggs him on further. He lets out a garbled little noise, choking. His voice rasps as electricity flows through him.
And he cums, there’s an orgasm - but nothing comes out. He cums so hard but his balls still feel so tight and full. It feels good but he’s still so fucking hard. It snaps him awake as his eyes open, and you’re staring at his cock a little awestruck.
“Oh, poor baby,” You say - not exactly mocking him but not exactly being kind either. Katsuki stares at you lost and hazy. “A dry orgasm after all of that. That’s just cruel.
He heaves. “What the….how am I supposed to?”
His dick aches. Fuck he almost wants to cry.
Your hand wraps around the base of his shaft in a sudden movement, making him hiss. He almost cusses you out. Sensitive, too sensitive. You put your thumb over the tip of his cock, more pre-cum leaking from it as you. You look mesmerized as it dribbles against your thumb
A long pause.
“Hey,” Your expression is serious. “Do you wanna fuck me?”
“What?”
“I’m really turned on right now, shit. I was planning on just helping you but, you didn’t cum yet and I’m...,” You’re looking at him so directly. His heart pounds. “You can say no,”
Of course he wants to fuck you. That’s what he wants to say. He doesn’t know where he’d find the fucking gall.
“....’s sensitive,” He says instead, flushing with embarrassment. You brighten up. “Just… give me a minute,”
“I will but first,” You rummage through your items and pull out a plug. His eyes widen. “It’ll feel good, I promise.”
He grumbles, but doesn’t reject you. You have some kind of miracle in you - so he feels more inclined to just give in to whatever you say. You look eager to do it. He doesn’t know how he feels about that.
It’s easy enough to put the plug in when he’s already all soft. He’s still sensitive and swollen. He hisses as the cool metal of the plug slides into softened hole, before settling. You give him a little tap on his which he glares at you for. Your only response is laughter.
There’s nothing to talk about while Katsuki watches you undress. You don’t take it all off - just your bottoms. It’s not that he has nothing on his mind. Just that… seeing you like that isn’t making him any less hard. He just… looks at you. Dumbly. You slide your shorts off in one go and your underwear along with it, and you’re all on display.
It’s pretty. Your pussy is really pretty. A horrifyingly embarrassing thing for him to think but it’s true. There’s a fine layer of hair on your mound that he likes. You’re dripping wet like you said you were, and that doesn’t make the situation any easier. You give him a little smug grin as you settle over his lap. He stares at you completely absent-minded, flushed.
“Like what you see?” You tease. He’s too struck to lie to you.
“Yeah,” He rasps. He’s out of his mind right now. He blames it on his dick. “I wish I could take these fuckin’ cuffs off.”
You look at him a little surprised. “You don’t like being cuffed and restrained?”
His ears feel hot, heat prickling up his skin. “Didn’t say that just,” He groans even trying to say it. “...Wanna touch you,”
He trails off. You use your hand to turn his face back to you, cupping his jaw as you bend forward to kiss him. He stares at you wide-eyed, making a noise of surprise. This kiss is different from all the others. Deeper, with more feeling. He gets into it, lifting his head to kiss you back.
When you pull away, you’re all fluttered lashes and adoration.
“After I drain your dick dry,” You say with a confidence that astounds him. “I’ll take them off and let you fuck me proper. But you have to tell me you want that, first. Do you wanna fuck me, baby?”
“Shit. Y-yeah,” He nods, feeling absolutely swept up in your pace.
“Say it.”
“I wanna fuck you, dammit,” He stutters through the last of his sentence. “Don’t make me beg, my dick is going to blow off if you keep torturing me.”
You laugh good naturedly and he feels a little proud that he made you laugh. The thought that he’s beyond whipped wipes the smile off his face completely, but whatever.
You pull back, sitting up as you examine his cock. You hold it up to you, weighing your options.
“I’m too horny to open myself up. I’m just gonna sit on it, ‘kay? Don’t buck your hips up,”
He opens his mouth to protest, but the words die in his mouth. The warm, wet heat of your cunt is immediately overstimulating. He groans so gutterally it startles him. Like it’s punched out of him. This is the only pressure his hard cock has gotten in months and it’s making him feel like he’s on fire.
You don’t give him a chance to cover. You lean over him as you maneuver his cock to your entrance with all disregard for his sanity. You hiss as the tip finds the spot. Fuck you’re wet. Your insides are so soft, so sticky - but you’re still so damn tight.
As you promised you go slowly. It doesn’t help him losing his mind. Worsened by the fact he can see you on top of him, all bated breaths and shaky moans. There must be a dull pain, but you only give him a smile as you get the first inch.
“You’re big,” You say breathlessly. His cock twitches to life. “Feels fucking good. Shit, that’s amazing. Haha, I can feel you so deep already.”
“Please stop talking, before I, haah,”
“Don’t cum yet,” You demand, lowering yourself further and further until you’ve bottomed out. Katsuki feels fucking crazy. “Let me get my fill first.”
“Ngh, easier said than fucking done,”
You just laugh. “Try your hardest, Mr. Hero. Show off your endurance, hm?”
He groans as you start to move. You really don’t regard him at all. You lean over him with one hand and use your other to tease and toy with your clit as you ride his cock with reckless abandon. The room is quick to fill with noise - the sound of skin slapping skin, the skin sticking where your hips meet his thighs.
You’re moaning in little broken waves. He’s not going to last if he listens to you anymore.
He’s biting the inside of his cheek trying not to cum, but you don’t make it easy. You’re riding him with so much force, using him. Your pussy is so tight it’s gripping him, sucking him dry. A vice-like grip, sticky and pliant over the hard curve of his cock. Everytime you bounce and throw your ass a little harder onto him, he can feel you. Feel himself and how deep he is. His hands tighten into fists where they’re cuffed in front of him.
He’s never been… used like this. But he doesn’t hate it the way you disregard him to chase your own pleasure while being so generally mindful of his own. You take and take and take but you make it feel so good.
It’s not helped by the plug in his ass, brushing against his prostate every single time you move. Makes him jolt. Every fiber and nerve in his body is wound as tight as it can possibly go. All of his strength, sanity, and focus he has left in him is trying not to cum, not to buck his hips up and rut into you like a stupid animal no matter how much he wants too.
He can feel you start to cum before you even tell him. Your walls pulse with need and your movement starts to get slower. The grip you have holding you up weakens slightly.
“Gonna cum. Fuck baby, I’m gonna cum,” You say with a pant. You open your eyes and look down on him “Cum with me, okay? Don’t hold it in,”
The words alone trigger a reaction. But with everything else, it’s like Katsuki explodes. Weeks worth of tension in his body, in his muscles, in his everything - burst at the seams. You cum and he follows you nearly in succession. The hard pulsing of your swollen cunt suck around him like a vice and he goes practically limp feeling his dick finally drain.
He cums and he can’t stop cumming. Pumps out so much white hot seed his head starts to cloud. He fucks up into you, sloppy and dumb. Chasing his high as he pours every ounce of his load into your pussy without so much as a modicum of shame. A month of dryness overwritten by the most intense orgasm he’s ever had in his fucking life. He doesn't know how long he stays there, painting your walls with his spend. It just goes on forever, longer than he’s ever experienced.
He has his eyes closed as he goes limp. Fucking hell.
It takes him a while to go soft again. When he finally does and returns to consciousness, he’s still nestled inside you. You give him a smile when his eyes finally open, leaning forward to kiss his hairline.
“Still all there?”
His voice is hoarse like he’s been screaming. “I feel like I fucking died,”
You giggle.
“So… no?”
“Kind of. Barely. What the fuck is up with you.” He says laying his head back, sweat dripping down his back. “Shit.”
“Did you like it?”
He gives you an unimpressed look as you laugh.
“I’m glad.” You say softly. You’re warm. God he’s down bad. “We have a lot to talk about later. You should take a little break for now.”
He nods in agreement to both things before pausing. “For now..?”
“You thought we were done?” You say with a tilted head. He gapes. “I thought you knew I was more ruthless than that.”
He groans.
“You’re insane.”
You chuckle, leaning down to kiss him.
“You love me.”
He lets you kiss him some more and doesn’t bother denying it.
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luke being protective🤗🤗🤗i’m a sucker for protective guys bye
jealousy — luke castellan
pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite fem!reader
warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns, luke being an asshole (not to reader), unwanted flirting, slight cursing
a/n: sorry to anyone name aiden..
꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱
ever since percy jackson arrived at camp half-blood, there hasn't been a new camper in months. some campers liked the peace of not worrying about which cabin the newbie would join. others missed the excitement the new camper brought to the sometimes dull camp.
the end of summer was going normal for the campers, counselors, and camp directors, until aiden mckinnan stepped foot in the camp.
everyone seemed off when they were around him.
no one could understand why, until the bonfire at the end of the night.
all the campers were seated around the large growing fire. stories were being told, smores were being eaten, and laughs were being shared. luke was in the middle of telling silena and y/n how percy made everyone laugh in archery training, however he was interrupted by someone whistling in their direction.
"damn! aphrodite really knows how to make hotties!"
the trio turned at the unexpected voice. it was aiden. he still hasn't been claimed by his godly parent, so luke was the lucky counselor who had to watch him until he got claimed.
y/n and silena awkwardly glanced at each other, while luke glared daggers at aiden.
"what do you want aiden?" luke questioned.
"just wanted to appreciate this goddess," aiden sat down next to y/n, making luke glare at him ten times harder.
y/n let out a nervous laugh, "i- uh- thank you?"
"why don't you and me go by the lake and hang out," y/n hated the emphasis aiden put on the 'hang out' part.
y/n glanced between luke and silena before responding, "sorry, i have a boyfriend."
aiden chuckles, "i don't see him anywhere princess."
luke leaned forward to look at aiden, making y/n stuck in the middle of a brewing testosterone fight.
"her boyfriend's right here," luke states coldly, placing his arm around y/n's shoulders, only making her lean into him.
aiden laughs obnoxiously, "you're with him?" he laughs louder, "oh sweetheart you could do so much better."
before y/n can respond, luke beats her to it, "why don't you just leave man? we were having a nice time before you showed up."
aiden rolled his eyes, but reluctantly left the trio and went back to his own small group of friends. silena started talking about something that happened at lunch, trying to distract the three from what had just happened. it worked well, and now they were all laughing again.
luke couldn't help but shoot a few death glares at aiden from across the fire, and he moved his hand down to y/n's waist. y/n knew luke was still angry over what aiden had said, so she simply leaned over and kissed his cheek. that easily calmed him, and luke leaned over to place a kiss on her temple.
"you guys are so cute, it's disgusting," clarisse laughs while walking by, carrying a tray of smores supplies for her and her cabin. luke simply flips her off, before listening to silena again.
#shelbi writes#keerysfreckles#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan x fem reader#luke castellan x fem!reader#luke castellan x y/n#luke castellan x you#luke castellan imagine#luke castellan pjo#pjo#pjo show#pjo tv#pjo tv show#pjo books#percy jackson#percy jackson and the olympians#percy jackson and the olympians show
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thinkin about thigh-riding ghost 👼🏻🎀
cw. nsfw (18+ mdni), thigh-riding, praise kink (im predictable), soft simon <3
often, you visited simon on base. it wasn’t your favourite place to be — cold, clinical hallways walked by gun-bearing, testosterone-drunk men — but if simon had to be there, you would be, too. besides, the 141 wasn’t so bad — they loved recounting stories about simon, worshipped any homemade treats you brought in, and the way they called you “ghost’s girl,” had you blushing every time.
it could get boring, though. even when you were there, simon had a responsibility, and sometimes that included monotonous paperwork.
his office was small — a singular window, desk, and lumpy couch shoved in the corner. resting against one of the throw pillows you’d brought in to give the room some colour (“t’make it less of a prison cell,” you’d said), you huffed, loud enough for him to hear, when switching between the same three apps couldn’t hold your attention anymore.
“wha’s’a matter, lovie?” simon questioned, not looking up from his paperwork. though he’d ditched the mask, he still wore his balaclava — always did, at work.
“‘m bored, si,” you answered, jutting out your bottom lip in a pout.
again, without sparing you a glance, simon checked his watch, and offered, “y’can go if y’want, love. i’ll be home in a few hours.”
another huff, this time only a smidge more dramatically. “i don’t wanna go home. i wanna be here w’you.” then, you stood, making quick work of crossing the room and standing behind him, peering over his shoulder to gaze at the incomprehensible paperwork.
with an almost pavlovian response, simon pushed his chair backwards, stretching out his muscular thigh and offering it up as a seat.
gratefully, you accepted, though your appreciation didn’t last long when he merely returned to his work, scrawling messily along the documents.
“what’re you doin’?” you tried, toying with the strings of the hoodie stretched across his chest.
“mission reports,” he replied, squeezing your waist once. “nothin’ you have to worry your pretty little head about.” then, he pressed a quick, masked kiss to your temple and resumed.
“sounds boring,” you surmised. he gave an agreeing hum.
pursing your lips, you resumed your toying with the strings, looping them into a bow and then tugging them loose. afterward, you sat back, gazing at him.
he was so pretty, even with a fucking mask on. it wasn’t fair. warm, brown eyes locked on his stupid paperwork, barely-there traces of the grease paint he could never fully wash off staining his lash-line. if the sight of him didn’t have a heat blooming in your belly, you could have cried over it.
compelled, you place a kiss on his cheek. he gives another hum, this time lower, fonder, and a squeeze to your hip. creating a path, you continue to kiss the planes of his face — his brow (or where it was beneath the balaclava), his temple, cheek, and jaw. then, you trailed lower, lips trailing beneath his head, over his throat, his adam’s apple, the juncture where neck met shoulder.
when you gently nipped where he was most sensitive, he flexed his thigh, eliciting a gasp from you. the skirt you’d had the audacity to wear did little to protect your cunt from friction.
at the sound you made, you assume, he did it again, flexing the muscles in his obnoxiously large thigh, therefore pressing them against your clit.
arms snaking around him, you hid your face in his neck, and whined, “please, si.”
the way he shook his head could be felt against you — as could the quiet, barely-there chuckle in his chest. “christ, sweetheart. eleven in the morning an’ you’re already needy?”
again, you nipped his throat. “your fault.”
“my fault?” he echoed. “y’re the one who decided t’fuckin mount me.”
“you are the one who refuses to give me any attention,” you argued. when he didn’t deign to respond, you whimpered again, and tried, “please, si.”
simon huffed, breath ghosting across the back of your neck and sending a chill through you. then, like this was some great chore he had to take on, he said, “i really have to finish this, m’love. it’s already past-due.“ he must have felt your pout against his skin. “y’can get off on my thigh, though, how about that? hm? will that hold y’over?”
chewing your bottom lip, you gave an experimental tilt of your hips, nearly jolting at the friction against your damp cunt. “tha’s embarrassing.”
tutting, simon argued, “‘s not embarrassing. y’ve done a lot worse w’me.”
instead of biting him this time, you flicked him. another chuckle, and he was conceding, “how about this: you get off on my thigh, and once i’m done w’this we go out for lunch.”
the fact that it only takes you a few measly seconds to accept his offer might’ve been embarrassing. the way he cooed, though, when you ground your hips into his thigh, soothed any shame.
it was a struggle to find a pattern you could be consistent with. simon was usually all too happy to let you be a pillow princess — getting yourself off hadn’t been a task you’d taken on in a while. seeming to sense this, though, simon used the hand he’d kept on the small of your back to gently guide you, moving you back and forth.
“there y’go, angel,” he praised, causing you to press a moan into his shoulder. “y’even being quiet for me. good job. only i get to hear those sounds, that right?”
words escaped you — the pressure of his thigh rubbing against your clit had you seeing stars. instead, you nodded rapidly against him, clutching at his shoulders.
the movement became easier and easier as your slick soaked through your panties and his trousers. the thought of that had you pressing your heated cheeks against his shoulder, nails digging into him.
before you could think to voice it, simon spoke, “already close, are you, love? that was quick. ‘m sorry for neglecting you f’so long. i’m terrible, aren’t i?”
nearly deluded with pleasure, you shook your head. “n-no. not terrible. love you so much, si.”
a warm, rumbly sound came from his chest. “oh, my sweet girl. i love you too.” finally, he pulled back from his work, yanking the bottom half of his balaclava over his nose and capturing your lips in a messy kiss. only when you began to shake did he pull away, murmuring, “come for me, love.”
as soon as the words left his spit-slick lips, you were tumbling over the edge, clutching him like you’d fall off the face of the earth if you let go. he helped you through it, wet kisses pressed against your sweaty face, unintelligible praised murmured into your skin.
once you’d come down, simon gently squeezed your thigh, and pulled your head back to his neck. “make y’self comfortable, sweets. ‘m almost done.”
“then we go for lunch?”
“after.”
“after what?”
simon tsked, nipping at your cheek once, and stating, “if y’think we’re finished, love, you’ve got another thing coming.”
#wrote this in 20 mins enjoy xoxoxoxox#( 🪻 ) — ghost.#( 🌷 ) — writing.#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley x y/n#ghost x reader#ghost x you#ghost x y/n#cod x reader#cod x you#cod x y/n#141 x reader#ghost smut#simon riley smut
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the reason a lot of transmascs experience some level of regret/depression after medical transitioning is, imo, the exact reverse of the reason TERFs think we transition in the first place.
TERF beliefs are generally that transmascs dysphoria is actually a natural uncomfortableness with how misogynistic society defines women, and that our transition is an attempt to conform to the idea that being nonfeminine means you aren't a "real" woman, instead of realizing that we only hate ourselves because society tells us women like us shouldn't exist, and actually radical feminism is the real liberation.
but for example: when i first starting on T, every change was 100% pure joy. i was so ecstatic, everything was amazing and wonderful. i truly loved everything.
but then the longer I was on it, the more transandrophobia I encountered because I was on T. I started feeling more and more ashamed of having hair on my arms, my thin facial hair, my "tranny voice". Things that made me really excited before starting making me a little bit uncomfortable because of how society treated it. It was literally like Rapid Onset Gender Dysphoria but exactly the opposite.
Now this wasn't and isn't as strong as the gender euphoria T has brought me, and it hasn't caused me a lot of real "oh no do I regret this" distress because I have been able to immediately recognize that I am only uncomfortable because of how people started treating me differently. But especially for transmascs without support systems, without understanding our own internalized transphobia, can very easily feel a lot of trauma associated with transitioning because of the way that society treats trans men. when every change of your body is met with mockery and scorn and disgust, its natural to get affected.
and this is why its so fucked up when other trans people share stuff about how "soo many trans men are gonna regret T because they're all stupid little girls who think T is gonna make them sexy yaoi boys, since they all have no idea what it's like to really be men and just fetishize gayness!" because you are literally the reason. People mock and shame trans men, they make spaces hostile for anyone with a testosterone-dominant body, they act hostile to trans men and our experiences constantly. and then when trans men internalize that disgust and blame ourselves for how other people treat us because of our transition, those same people turn around and use that as a way to further mock us.
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𝑩𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝑯𝒐𝒎𝒆
✿𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: OT7xReader
✿ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: The one where, after living abroad for years, you move back to Korea and your old high school friend Namjoon offers you his place to stay while you get settled, casually forgetting to mention that: a) he still had a massive crush on you. b) he lived with six other guys.
✿ 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔: Romance, Humor, Fluff, College AU, angst if you squint.
°•. ✿ .•°
𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐀𝐎𝟑 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐤𝐨-𝐟𝐢
°•. ✿ .•°
Part 12 - What?
(<<< part 11)
Jin is sick.
Full on sick, bed-ridden, will-written (he left everything to his family dog, hoping to install chaos even in his after life), shivering in his near death state.
To sum up his pitiful state, Jin had the flu.
As the eldest, he was always thrown into the role of caregiver and he truly didn’t mind. Jin thrived knowing that his friends were well-fed and taken care of and the apartament wasn’t a pit of despair, dirty laundry, testosterone and food poisoning. Taking care of others filled him with prime and a beaming sense of purpose. He liked his loved ones happy and, furthermore, he liked being the one to provide said happiness, whether for his amazing cooking abilities or gentle, refined comedy.
But now, nearing the end of his life by the hands of a sneeze that just wouldn’t snooze, he regretted spoiling his dongsaengs rotten, because none of them had a single clue on how to help him or, at the very least, not worsen his state.
Namjoon’s voice echoed from the kitchen, a place he had been previously banned from, but brought back to in those desperate times “How much sugar do I put in this?”.
Nevermind. Jin wasn’t that desperate.
“None!” he coughed , feeling his soul leaving through his mouth as he hacked his lungs out “It’s a soup, you tall noodly buffoon.”
“What’s going on?”
Jin turned his red, teary, tortured eyes towards the door, where you stood with your backpack, taking off your shoes.
Namjoon scurried from the kitchen, seemingly untormented by the cloud of smoke left behind him and the alarming wheezing sound that foreshadowed nothing good.
“Y/N!” he called sweetly and leaned in to kiss your cheek, a brazilian habit he picked up from you, but funnily enough only seemed to use with you “Jin is being mean to me!”
Ugh. As if Seokjin wasn’t sick enough, he was then forced to watch his back-stabbing, sugar and baking powder wielding, Big Bird of a friend drape himself over your much smaller and much less Sesame Street looking body.
Jin wasn’t in his clearest state of mind, so he didn’t stop to ponder on the implications of the ache in his chest and the twisting sensation in his stomach at the sight, chalking it off as one of the symptoms of his imminent doom and not at all a sign for something much bigger and catastrophic.
“Why are you being mean, Jinnie?” you asked as you removed the koala-like grip Namjoon had on you and put away your stuff.
“He’s trying to poison me” he croaked from his pitiful burrow in the L shaped couch “Putting sugar in the soup.”
“Joonie, please we have talked about this. More than once.” Jin couldn’t help but purr with satisfaction as you chastised his lanky friend. Finally, he thought, sweet vindication “Don’t worry, Jin, I’ll get you something to eat.”
Those last few words sounded as if they were whispered from a thousand miles away, barely background noise as Seokjin once more slipped in and out of consciousness.
When he woke up again, there was a cold towel against his forehead and a pleasant smell filled his senses. You stood by his side, holding a bowl of something that smelled absolutely divine and Jin had a short, intrusive thought that this is what heaven looked like.
“Good to see you awake.” you said as his eyes blinked open “Sit up, I made you soup. Sugarless. You should get something to eat.”
Jin stretched his tired body, feeling the dull ache in his muscles complain about the movement. HIs fever seemed to have gotten better, but there was still some uncomfortableness left by his sweaty, snotty state.
Even so, he betted he still looked great. Sexy even, in a plague-esque, victorian child sort of way, like Timothee Chalamet. Hotter, both in looks and temperature, than most men in his life.
“Where’s everyone?” he asked, noticing the empty and unusually silent and peaceful apartament.
“They left a while ago. Joonie had classes.”
“Ungrateful bastards” he mumbled “I could’ve died since then!”
“From the flue?”
“From resentment!”
You laughed, placing the porcelain bowl carefully in his hands “Trust me, you don’t want any of them taking care of you.”
“Maybe Yoongi.”
“Yeah” you agreed “Maybe Yoongi.”
He ate in silence for a while, watching you make yourself busy around the room, unpacking your school bag and fixing yourself something to eat. “How are you feeling now?” you asked after sometime in quietude.
He coughed, folding over himself as his whole chest heaved in a violent fit. “Better”
Your arched a doubtful brow “You sure?”
Jin raised two thumbs, smile looking like a grimace.
“Yeah, very convincing except for the snot and smoker’s cough you have” you said, pushing him to lie back on the couch, hands on his burning chest “Stay down, soldier, I’ll take care of you.”
Those words sparked something in Jin’s chest, a sudden rush of fondness and affection that heated his cheeks even more. He had proudly and happily taken the role of caretaker in their friend group and never resented, but there was no denying the warmth that sentence brought him.
Your relationship with him had always been casual, at best, just exchanging crossed jokes and puns that made no one else laugh but the two of you. And although he liked to joke about your position as his future wife, there hadn’t been many attempts from either parties to deepen your friendship. You were just… Comfortable, Jin guessed. There was no strain to keep a conversation going, no awkward stepping around each other like there usually was in the beginning stages of getting to know someone.
Maybe it was your similarities that made you so at ease around each other, Jin pondered, weirdly contemplative in his pile of sickness by the couch. You were both the funniest people alive, great cooks, caring and exceedingly beautiful indivi-
Woah, he paused. When did he start thinking you were beautiful - exceedingly so? You were cute, sure, but beautiful? His eyes followed you across the room as you cleaned up the slight mess scattered around the space, accessing your features: lit up eyes, easy smile, soft looking hair and skin that begged for him to reach out and touch…
Jin halted his dangerous line of thinking. Was this a side effect of the flu or an epiphany? Was the pounding of his heart just a sign of the decomposing of his body or just the feeling of unbound gratefulness at being taken care of? Or was it just…
You.
***
You.
Jungkook thought about your existence within his life half wistfully and half infuriated. You were simultaneously the reason why he had a hard time leaving his room after waking up and paradoxically the current only reason he did. There was nothing new about early mornings with his hyungs hogging the coffee and sleeping on top of the dinner table, but seeing you by the kitchen sink or holding stupid Yoongi’s stupid hands always kickstarted his heart, even if painfully so. He had been living with you for quite a few weeks now and his body and soul had yet to get accustomed to your presence in his routine - still, you were everywhere, from your perfume invading his senses to his Marvels movies he could never watch the same way now that he knew how it felt to see them with your arms around him.
Jungkook had to act. Not only because he couldn’t hold his feelings inside his surprisingly muscular chest, but also due to the movement he could see happening around the house hold. From Namjoon clinging onto you like a disease, to Hoseok’s threats and Yoongi’s silent plottings, Jungkook knew if he didn’t do something, someone else would.
And he was nothing if not a sore fucking loser.
So Jungkook got to planning, cataloging everything he knew about you and your routine to come up with the perfect moment to ask you out. He had not gotten as far as considering what he would do if you said yes (start dancing? Yell? Fireworks? Punch Namjoon in celebration? Who fucking knew) but in order to not panic he had to take everything one step at a time and hope for the best, even if his previous relationship histories pointed in a different direction.
On the day he chose as The Perfect Day™, no one was supposed to be home, out having classes, at work or spreading havoc somewhere around campus ( mainly Taehyung and Jimin). No one, except you, enjoying one of your rare days off.
He had armed himself with an arsenal of your favorite things, from pastries to flowers, one more tube of lipgloss to add to your insurmountable collection and crocheted trinkets he tried to make himself but turned out looking like unidentifiable blobs (he hoped he could charm you with his attempt, at least). He practiced his speech until the words left his mouth automatically, leaving no room for mistakes or blabbing.
And he hoped, God did he hope, that you would give him the time of your day and spare him of the misery of having you so close and not being able to touch.
But things started going south as soon as he reached the first step of the stairs up to their apartament and ran face first into Hoseok, carrying a bouquet of roses and a bag from the same bakery Jungkook had just visited.
They stared at each other in dumbfounded silence for a few seconds, seeing but not processing each other’s presence and what it meant until Hoseok said “What are you doing?”.
Jungkook spluttered indignantly, “What are you doing?”
“I’m doing what I said I was going to do!”
“So am I!”
A second passed and no one moved. One second later, Jungkook bolted up the stairs, followed by his cursing hyung as he hoped that his toned thighs would give him an advantage in the race for your heart.
“I should be the one to ask her out!” Hoseok yelled from five steps behind “I’ve known her the longest!”
“And did nothing!” the maknae replied, starting to break a sweat “It’s my turn! You lost, old man!”
“Old man? I’m only a couple years older than you! I’m Y/N’s age! Are you calling her old?”
That made Jungkook trip up a step, slowing down his ascent “No! At least I can call her noona! What can you call her, huh?”
“I don’t know what I’m calling her, but I know what I’m calling you when I’m throwing you down the stairs: an ambulance!”
“Better make sure they know how to fix your broken heart when she says yes to me!”
“And if she says no?”
***
And if she says no?
Rejection was never something Jin gave much thought about and he wasn’t about to start now.
It was less about the belief that no one could reject him (although the concept did seem foreign to most) and more about rejecting the idea of missing opportunities due to fear of rejection. He could move on from being denied something, but never from regretting not taking chances.
And maybe this was a chance worth taking. Maybe, he thought while still observing you from his death bed (the couch), he could allow a joke to grow into something bigger and get to know you a little better. You didn’t have to start dating and then get married right away, but he saw potential in your congruent personalities.
And what more could he ask from a woman besides a sense of humor and the ability to feed him without poisoning him? The universe had already handed you to him in a platter.
“Y/N” he called softly.
You raised your head from across the room and smiled softly, further finalizing his decision with the way your eyes lit up “Yes?”
“Go out with me.”
Your eyes widened in shock “What?”
“What?”
They turned their heads to the door, where Jungkook was pressed against it with eyes as big as saucers, holding it close with his weight before it burst open to a panting Hoseok and, in the back, an appalled Yoongi stepping out from the elevator.
“WHAT?”
°•. ✿ .•°
𝐌𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! 𝐂𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝
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#bts fanfic#bts x reader#bts#jungkook x reader#ot7 x reader#kim namjoon x reader#kim seokjin x reader#yoongi x reader#jung hoseok x reader#kim taehyung x reader#jimin x reader
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No but your ex bf offering you as a prize for fighting ub!Simon and you just sit there like “it can’t get worse than this” and it does. It does get worse. It’s Simon
lmaooo at the mere resignation of it all. like you've been surrounded by these brainless apes your whole life, starting with your brother who took up fighting because your dad is a retired fighter and you were the one patching him up and ofc you--
PAUSE.
because you're the club's medic(your original job being a vet.) you're brought in sometimes when laswell asks for the favor (you owe her everything) and it means being in real close quarters with ghoap.
johnny's the shameless yet innocent flirt but simon? simon's a fucking disgusting pervert who makes the most crude jokes known to man and never misses an opportunity to have your tiny healer hands on his bruised face.
he takes hits he could easily miss (johnny points it out once, they got into a nasty fight then) just so he has an excuse to come see you. you tolerate it though because every night you can smell the testosterone in the air, which means unwanted attention unless simon's there to keep them off of you with a baring of teeth.
brain worms are BRAINING.
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I can't help but internally chuckle at my tank selection this morning.
"Earn It" it said
Well, I earn this muscle through sheer hard work and determination. Hours upon hours of sweat, cum and tears compounded into years of research and the determination to teach my bullies a thing or two about respect and karmic consequences. This dumb oblivious PT thought I wanted to be another one of his clients, just a meagre scrawny nerd trying to get fitter. His expression when I started the takeover was priceless. He never saw it coming and as my body went lifeless as my soul traveled to take control of his body, I woke up several minutes later to the sight of my limp body being brought out in a stretcher while another paramedic attended me. My dick went hard when he called me "Mr. Bridge" and I smirked in my own thought as I finally felt the heaving massive chest and this raging testosterone-fueled body under my full control
That was 2 weeks ago. That paramedic couldn't help herself so I fucked her later that night. The fact that she already married to a police officer but still wanted to go all the way with me that night actually gave me the idea for my sweet revenge. Now, if you'll excuse me, my two worst bullies that also attended this gym already came for their morning workout. It's about time I introduce myself to them and then start fucking their lives up with this musclebound PT body helping me. For starter, I aim to fuck their girls as soon as possible and beat the shit out of them when they tried to fight me. My verdict, they don't stand a chance against me now
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🐇 — jackie being curious about your changes on T...
NSFW!
never in a million years did you ever think you’d have your legs spread wide open for one of your best friends—especially jackie taylor. she was always asking about your progress on testosterone - feeling up your muscles to see if you had gotten bigger or caressing your face to feel your stubble. you never thought anything of it because, well, that's just jackie being jackie.
but when you two were at her house, having one of your monthly sleepovers, she asked you a question that nearly made you choke.
"is it bigger?" jackie blurts out suddenly, like it's been on her mind for days. "your clit? or, uh, i dunno what you call it, sorry..."
"w-what?!" you stutter out, blushing bright red. you move up from your position and sit up straighter. you look up at her with wide eyes - she's sitting near the edge of the bed that you're both sitting on, blush mirroring yours. she's looking at you like she said nothing wrong.
"i'm just curious," she murmurs, facing away from you. she not so subtly looks at you from her peripheral vision, eyes casually glancing down at your center.
you start to think about - showing her your growth. it couldn't be that awkward, could it? i mean, she was the one who brought it up anyway. slowly, you uncross your legs and see jackie's throat bob up and down as she gulps. "do you...do you wanna see it?"
her head turns so fast you're surprised it didn't break. "yes! please?" jackie scoots closer to you, biting her lip in anticipation. you chuckle at how eager she is for this and sit up on your knees, unbuckling your belt. you watch as her face turns serious, looking intently at how your slender fingers slide your pants down.
once they're off, you throw them carelessly to the side. you sit back against her fluffy pink pillows and spread your legs for her. you swallow nervously when she doesn't say anything for a few seconds. "jackie? are y-"
"it's so big," she speaks, hands gripping the sheets to steady herself. jackie can feel her mouth water at the sight of your bulge through your underwear. "i can see the outline so vividly...are you hard right now?"
"n-no. just...wet." you whisper, feeling embarrassed.
"god," jackie mutters, getting even closer to you. she's sitting in between your legs now, hands tentatively reaching to your thighs and you tense at the feeling. "that means it gets much bigger when you're hard?"
you nod, thighs twitching when her fingers reach the waistband of your boxers. she looks up at you with big eyes, searching for confirmation and you nod. you would've laughed at how urgently she tugged them off, but the cool air hitting your tdick makes you groan instead.
jackie gasps when she sees how big you are, and you're only semi-hard now. she lays down on her stomach and now it's your turn to gasp. "let me suck it? please? i-i wanna see how it feels." she begs, eyes all wide and glossy. there's no universe in which you could ever deny her - especially for this.
you nod and stutter out a "yes."
jackie licks her lips and looks at your tdick with hunger in her eyes before leaning in and attaching her mouth to your erect tdick. her mouth feels hot and perfect around it. you let out a whimper when she sucks in, hand flying to her hair. jackie groans at the touch and the vibrations around your tdick make you hump up into her face.
"shit. so good, jackie." your praise makes her shudder, her tongue strokes faltering. her arms wrap around your legs to pull you in more and you swear you could die happy right now. "such a good girl sucking me off like this."
jackie whimpers pathetically around your dick, looking up as you continue to praise her. the eye contact makes your whole body feel like jelly. you rut helplessly into her mouth, your hand gripping her hair tighter as you feel that familiar burn in your stomach.
"keep going, fuck, jackie. so close, so close..." you moan. she's bobbing her head up and down, trying her hardest to make you cum. her tongue feels like it's gonna fall off but she needs to find out how you taste as you cum in her mouth.
a harsh suck from her makes your whole body tense up, your fluids gushing into her mouth as she greedily laps it all up. jackie pulls away, your wetness all over her chin and your eyes are glued to the sight. she wipes it off with her tongue as best as she can and giggles at how stupid your face looks.
"i should've asked about this sooner."
#.myworks#jackie taylor thoughts 💭#jackie taylor#jackie taylor x reader#yellowjackets x reader#yellowjackets
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Beginnings...
Gojo Satoru x Reader x Geto Suguru
The Cursed Trio | Shared Moments
...
Your arrival to the academy came as a surprise to many, apparently you were some transfer from overseas. You'd show a shit ton of promise that they transferred you to Jujutsu in order to more efficiently reach your true potential. Rumor was it, you'd one day make it as a Special Grade. Even so, for now you remained a Grade One.
Your Japanese was decent at best and your adaptation to their customs was a work-in-progress but you held this certain charm that just drew people in. And no, I'm not talking about the kind of charm where everyone falls in love. No, it's the type of charm that makes people relax around you, makes them want to put their faith in you no matter how much to try to prevent that.
You could be a fresh of spring just as you could be a fresh of icy air, the kind that freezes up your lungs.
The first time you saw them, you were being shown around by your mentor --- a stoic expression written on your scarred face as you nodded at them. Briefly acknowledging them as you continued on your way.
Geto had figured your eyes as beautiful --- like an eternal flame hidden behind layers of stone wettened under a stream of a freshwater. Whilst Gojo had figured you a possible new victim for his pranks and teases. In fact, Gojo even had the nerve to interrupt your tour. Demanding to know your name. Shoko, who had been hanging about, was glad another girl had joined the academy. Afterall, it was getting rather stuffy with all the testosterone.
They knew you'd get well with the duo when the first thing you did was insult Gojo, although both him and Geto didn't really understand your insult. Actually, they didn't even know you insulted him until Shoko just started laughing out loud.
You called him a phospholipid??? The actual fuck is that
At that, you gave them a deadpanned stare, speaking in broken japanese that at the very least he should get educated because he was obviously missing a few brain cells
Now at this, both Shoko and Geto bent over laughing while Gojo stood there momentarily stunned before a sinister smirk adorned his lips. He went to insult you back but was quite literally by the sight of your hand in his face, "No time for idiot. Bye."
The absolute nerve on you!
Geto absolutely loved you since that day. On the other hand, it was a enemies to whatever with Gojo, which is ironic considering that he sought you out every moment of the day.
You and Shoko became the best of girl-friends. To be honest, the two of you were incredibly similar. The both of you were lazy as hell, smart as hell, and blunt as hell. Although, you seemed to have mastered the trick of honeying your harsh words so much so that people didn't even fight you on it.
To put their friendship into perspective, Shoko brought the cigarettes and you brought the lighter (despite you being a non-smoker. Once you tried to smoke but you didn't like the taste of it so you left it at that)
Although there was a time Gojo was being a nuisance so you grabbed a cigarette from Shoko's carton, lit it, and blew the smoke straight into his face when he wasn't expecting it
Watching him double-over choking was a grand sight indeed
You managed to make quite the number of friends while there, although many noticed how you kept a distance. I say this literally. You never let anyone come physically close to you, as though a simple graze from them would kill you or something. No-one dare question it consider that they also had their traumas that prevented them from certain indulgences. But sometimes, you'd make small exceptions. I think it's mainly of a "dont touch me but I'll touch you" situation.
Like you don't mind swiping dust off of Nanami's shoulder, or neatening Shoko's hair when it's gotten all frizzy due to the wind, or picking off lint off of Yaga's clothes.
But if you didn't initiate it, you'd go silently rigid.
During class, you like hanging around this one guy name Yu. Mainly because he knew a bit of your native language (surprising I know) and so, you felt safe enough to speak with him considering that you both spoke brokenly in either tongue. The only other person you felt safe enough to speak was Geto. He was actually the one that took it upon himself to teach you Japanese.
He'd recommend shows to watch and he'd watch with you so that he could explains certain customs and what-not of his culture. He found great amusement when a scene he knew you wouldn't understand played and you'd instantly pause the show to look at him with a questioning expression. It made you look rather cute in his eyes.
Gojo would often times crash during these hang-outs. Pestering you to learn his language quicker so that he can properly cuss you out (he says this while having an arm over you shoulder and leaning his full weight into your side. Surprisingly, you never said anything despite your reservations to touching.)
You chalked it up to wanting warmth.
Then came that point in your language-education where Geto wanted you to try speaking in a public setting and you just about cried right in front of him and Gojo. You gripped your fist so tight your nails drew blood, an action to prevent you from clinging onto Geto's clothes as he scolded Gojo for worsening your nerves. Gojo didn't stop laughing until he saw actual tears in your eyes.
With silent chuckles, Gojo took you by the shoulders and guided you over to some random corner store. You never once told him what your favorite snack was but somehow he knew to choose it before placing it in your hand. He told you exactly what you needed to say to the cashier with the exact amount of yen needed.
The both of them watched as you walked up to the cashier, briefly glancing over your shoulder to Gojo (still very much teary-eyed and rigid-body), who silently mouth the words again, before doing as he instructed.
After the whole ordeal, you surprised Gojo with an incredibly rare hug. I think at that moment, you truly managed to snake your way into his soul.
Geto stood to the side, a knowing smile on his lips as he watched you quickly let go. Shouting at Gojo that he owes you a sweet because of how brave you were, which should've annoyed him but only made you look endearing.
...
(A/N): Have yet to see Season 2 but those fucking beta fish tiktoks are murdering me right now with their symbolism.
Say, why don't you like being touched? What happened to you?
Where'd you get the scar?
And what's up with Geto's eternal flame comparison? So weird.
Drop a comment
Feel free to buy me a 🦩
Hope you enjoyed!
Edited: 7/25/2023
#gojo x reader x geto#gojo satoru x reader x geto suguru#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#geto suguru x reader#geto x reader#gojo x geto#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jjk headcanon#jujutsu kaisen headcanon#The Cursed Trio#reader#reader insert#fanfic#fanfiction#romance
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Life Guard
(Billy Hargrove x Female Reader)
Synopsis: It's the middle of summer and everyone decides to go to the pool. You don't know how to swim, but at least Billy's on duty.
Warnings: Language, almost drowning, protective Billy
Word Count: 3169
A/N: Here's that protective Billy fic I was talking about! Also, is the title cheesy? It's definitely cheesy. Should I change it? And I just had to use this gif. I mean, look at his back!
The hottest day of the year meant one thing: pool day. Everyone had agreed to meet there after picking up their assigned children.
“I’m pretty sure this is what Hell feels like,” Erica said after closing her door.
You chuckled and agreed, pulling out of the Sinclair driveway.
“You both brought your sunscreen, right,” you asked, looking in your rearview mirror at Lucas and Erica.
They nodded.
“Good. Max?” You glanced toward her before turning back to the road.
“Do you really need to ask?” She tugged gently at her hair.
“Just checking,” you said. “I have extra if anyone needs it.”
It didn’t take you long to reach the pool. When you arrived, Steve, Robin, and Dustin were already there.
You caught the last second of Steve cannonballing and splashing Dustin when Robin waved you all over.
“Finally! The testosterone was becoming too much!” Robin said, dramatic as ever.
“Have you been here long?” You set your bag beside the lounger and took a seat. Max, Lucas, and Erica didn’t waste any time jumping in.
“Ten whole minutes,” she whined, making you chuckle.
“Then it’s a good thing I got here when I did,” you said, grinning.
You relaxed into your chair after slipping your sandals off. The umbrella provided enough coverage to keep the sun off you. It was as cool as you were going to get out here.
Not knowing how to swim certainly put a damper on things during the summer months, but it was never something you were in a rush to learn. For you, summer meant working and saving up for college, not hanging out at the pool—one of the many reasons your friends insisted you come with them. They all knew you couldn’t swim. They also knew a public pool wasn’t the most conducive to learning, but you knew it’d be fine. Robin and Nancy would sit and chat with you anyway. The boys and the kids were the ones who took full advantage of the water.
“So,” Robin grinned, leaning in closer, “who do you think's gonna get water up their nose first?”
You tapped your chin as if in serious thought. “Dustin.”
“I was thinking the same.” She nodded as if you had concluded an important meeting.
Said child seemed to be having a race with Steve and Lucas toward the deep end while Erica and Max were leaning on pool noodles and laughing.
Faintly, a lifeguard’s whistle was mixed with shrieks of joy and splashes. The piece of metal fell to the guard’s exposed chest. Your eyes trailed along his strong shoulders and neck to land on his face.
Billy.
The heat in your cheeks was no longer from the weather.
Your friendship with Billy Hargrove was unexpected, to say the least. His friendship with the rest of your group—even more so. Fighting an interdimensional monster would do that to someone.
He’d changed a lot since last summer. Fortunately, it was for the better. It was obvious in the way he handled his job here. Billy had ruled the pool with an iron fist before. Now, he was less severe. You’d been here a few times already this summer, and not once had he threatened banishment to some too-excited kid who disregarded the safety rules.
You clocked the scars along his abdomen.
It had taken months of reassurance and support for him to take his shirt off. Before then, you never would have described Billy as insecure, but the Mind Flayer stole so much from him. You were just thankful it wasn’t worse. Joyce had closed the gate right on time.
Now, he sat in his chair with his shoulders back, relaxed, and surveyed the area like he used to.
Though he wore sunglasses, you knew he was looking at you when his head stopped in your direction.
You gave him a small smile and a little wave, and he answered with a flirty smirk of his own.
“Get a room,” Robin groaned. “You’re both ridiculous!”
You playfully swatted her.
She’d known for a while now how you felt about Billy. She had caught you staring a little too long, then at a sleepover, made you spill. And it brought you such relief to tell someone.
“C’mon, you’ve been flirting for months!”
“You know he flirts with everyone,” you said.
“Not since what happened,” she countered. “And I know you’ve noticed it, too.”
You had, but you were sure it was just because you'd been there. He had no reason to hide from you. And that gave him the space to be himself again. It’d only be a matter of time before he was chatting up one of the women strutting by his tower trying to get his attention.
She sighed. “All I’m saying is, I think you should give it a chance.” She poked your arm. “You have chemistry, and I know you’d be good together.”
You squeezed her hand. “Thank you.”
She stood, stretching. “Anytime. Now, I’m gonna get something from the vending machine. Any requests?”
“Whatever you’re getting.”
She nodded, walking toward the machines.
You pulled out your book, determined to finish it before you left the pool. Or before Billy got off his shift.
“Hey, (Y/N)!” Dustin called. “Can you bring me my goggles?”
“Sure!” You scooped them up from the edge of Robin’s chair and walked over to him. “Here”
“Thanks.” He gave you that smile you loved.
“Where’s Steve?” you asked, looking around.
“He’s gonna do the high dive. I think he’s trying to impress the girl in the blue bikini,” he said, nodding across the pool.
You shook your head slightly. “He knows that won’t actually work, right?”
He shrugged. “I tried to tell him.”
“In other words, ice cream is a must after this.” You usually followed the same rulebook for Steve’s failed flirting as you did for Robin: ice cream and a bitch sesh.
“Ice cream is always a must.”
You laughed, eyes focused on his smiling face.
Maybe if you were paying more attention, you would’ve seen the little boy running to the diving boards. You may have moved in time to avoid him bumping into you and sending you straight into the deep end.
—
Billy spotted you the moment you walked toward Robin with your gaggle of children. Max had told him she’d be here with the rest of your group. So, when the first to arrive were Steve, Robin, and Dustin, he deflated a little.
Ten minutes later, he straightened and ran a hand through his hair. He hadn’t felt like this since he was a little kid. You made his stomach twist in the best possible way and your smile? He’d do anything to see it.
Every so often, he’d glance back your way. You and Robin laughed at something and his lips ticked up ever so slightly.
He always kept an eye on you. He didn’t want to miss the way your shoulders shook as you laughed. Or the smile you gave El when she wanted you to watch her hold her breath. Or the view he’d get when you bent over facing toward or away from him—he didn’t know which he preferred.
He also knew you couldn’t swim. And every time you showed up, he watched you—made sure you stayed away from the edge. Part of him wished you wouldn’t come to the pool, but the selfish side loved when you did.
It was easier when he was off duty. He didn’t have to pay attention to everyone else. He’d sit at the foot of your lounger and talk to you while the others swam. You’d poke him with your toes if he flustered you too much, and he’d grab your feet and move closer to put them on his lap. He’d graze a finger up the bottom of one, and when you went to pull away, he’d grip your ankle and laugh, promising not to do it again.
You’d ask him to reapply sunscreen to your back. And each time he’d massage it into your shoulders, your neck—his thumbs pushing the tension away—down until he reached your swimsuit, and then move onto your arms. You’d always tell him you could do that part, and he’d grunt at you, wanting to touch you a little longer.
Then, when he finished, you’d offer the same, and he’d turn around, stifling a moan when your hands rubbed his shoulders and down his spine. He’d tease you, ask if you could do his chest, to which you rolled your eyes, but did it anyway because you told him once you didn’t think he applied enough to begin with. You never said it was because you liked touching him, too.
He continued scanning the rest of the pool. It wouldn’t be long before his shift ended, and he could finally join you.
Everything was relatively calm—kids playing, parents sitting with one another, high schoolers gossiping as they floated. Everything was normal.
“(Y/N)!”
His head shot to the panicked voice, dread clawing his gut.
Dustin’s arms waved frantically at Billy.
Where were you?
And he dove in.
You were sinking, bubbles no longer escaping your mouth. And the feeling in his gut worsened as your eyes slowly closed.
He’d taken his eyes away from you for a second.
That was all it took.
Just one second.
He wrapped an arm around your waist, using the other to propel himself upward.
Dustin was still panicking and had gathered the attention of his friends, who had rushed forward when Billy emerged.
Billy vaguely noticed Steve above him.
“Help me get her out,” Billy called. “Lay her down.”
Steve hauled you by your arms, using the towel around his neck as a pillow. Billy was beside you in a moment doing compressions.
“C’mon,” he muttered before pinching your nose and pushing air into your lungs. “C’mon.”
Each press into your chest made his hurt.
He couldn’t lose you. He just couldn’t. Not like this, not when you survived so much. Not when you’d become so important to him. Not before he could tell you.
You coughed, water spurting from your throat as you instinctively turned to get it out.
Relief washed over him.
“It’s okay, baby. Just breathe,” he whispered, rubbing your back. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
Your coughing slowly subsided, but your breath shook, and the urge to cry crept up your nose. You’d been so close. You felt the water burning your lungs as you sunk further and further.
Billy’s body heat comforted you as you shivered. You rested your head in the crook of his neck. The warmth of his skin made you shudder at the contrast. All the energy had been drained from you. You were just so cold, so fucking scared.
“I’ve got you, honey,” he repeated, placing a towel around your shoulders. “Let’s go to a chair, okay?”
He was so gentle with you, only his tone registering, but whatever he was saying, you’d agree with.
He hooked an arm under your knees and his other around your back and walked you to one of the Adirondack chairs.
Kneeling in front of you, he covered your hands with his.
“(Y/N).”
You stared at your joined hands, wanting to burrow into him to have some semblance of warmth.
“Sweetheart, I need you to look at me,” he said.
You did.
“You’re safe now.” He used one hand to graze the side of your thigh. “How ‘bout I take you home?”
You slowly nodded. This was the last place you wanted to be. Your nerves felt so exposed here.
“Okay.” He smiled gently, brushing your forehead with his lips as he rose to his feet.
“Here,” Robin said, setting your tote beside you. She placed a hand on your shoulder, and you touched it in thanks.
Billy pulled your coverup out of it and slipped it over your head.
“C’mon,” he shouldered your bag, “let’s go home.”
His arm went around your waist as he led you through the locker room to get his belongings.
When you got to his car, he placed you in the passenger seat and hooked you.
The way to your home was silent. And that was okay. You were still trying to settle yourself, and just being out of there helped.
Billy had put a hand on your thigh, needing to remind himself that you were next to him—that you were still breathing.
It comforted you—he did that in general. Maybe in a different situation, it would fill your stomach with butterflies. But right now, it was the contact you needed.
He was right here. And so were you.
You were grateful your parents were out when you arrived. You didn’t think you could handle any questions.
Billy’s hand was at the small of your back as you walked inside and went to your room to change. And he went to the kitchen to get you some water.
You got out of that swimsuit as fast as you could. Once Billy left, all you wanted was for him to come back.
It was like your chest didn’t hurt as much when he was in your line of sight.
He’d changed out of his suit and was waiting on the couch, patting the back of it when he saw you.
“Feel any better?” he asked.
You nodded slowly. “A bit.”
“What about inside? Anything hurt?” He leaned toward you, scanning your figure like he could pinpoint those spots.
“I’m fine, Billy,” you said. “Really. Maybe a little shaky, but that’s it. You don’t…” You didn’t want him to go, but you didn’t want to force him to stay. “You can go back if you want to. I know you wanted to hang out with everyone.” You didn’t want to feel like a burden. Billy deserved more than being tied down here with you.
He didn’t speak.
He wanted to hang out with you. He may have befriended everyone else, but you were the one he wanted to be around.
You had stopped shaking and coughing. Your breathing seemed normal, and the fear in your eyes was gone. You looked more exhausted than anything.
But still, he kept flashing back to you sinking.
He could’ve lost you. If Dustin hadn’t yelled, you might not be here. And he feared if he left you now, it’d somehow all be a dream. You wouldn't be sitting next to him. You’d be at the bottom of the pool, and he’d have to live with the guilt of not being able to save you.
But you were here. And you were okay. And he had to keep reminding himself of that.
“Let me stay,” he breathed, eyes pleading.
Yours softened, and you nodded.
He gave you a grateful smile. “Good. How about a movie? You can pick anyone you want, sweetheart.”
The pet name sent shivers up your spine, and he noticed. A concerned look covered his features.
“Are you okay? Are you still cold?” he asked, scooting closer.
You shook your head. You were definitely far from cold.
“Does it hurt anywhere?”
“Billy, I’m fine,” you urged.
“You inhaled a lot of water—”
“I promise.” You put a hand over his. “I just…I like when you call me that.” You played with your fingers, avoiding his gaze.
His face pulled in confusion. When he called you what?
He tried to think of what you were talking about, and then it dawned on him. He hadn’t even noticed he’d been doing it.
A grin spread across his face.
“You like it when I call you ‘sweetheart’?” He moved, his knee touching yours.
You nodded slightly.
“What about ‘honey’?” His head tilted so he could try and meet your eyes.
Again, you nodded, but the smallest of smiles tugged at your lips.
“And ‘baby’?” He lifted your chin with a finger, and your breath hitched.
“Yes,” you whispered. “I like it.”
“How would you feel if I used them all the time?”
You bit the inside of your cheek, but the smile still spread. “I’d like it.”
“And what if I wanted to use them in front of our friends? Would you be okay with that?” he asked, leaning in.
“Only if you asked me out first,” you said.
He chuckled. “Could I still kiss you right now?”
“You better.”
His lips pressed against yours a second later. He tasted like mint and the barest traces of smoke and chlorine. He pulled you into his lap so you straddled him, and your hands cupped both sides of his neck.
You loved how warm he was. Every time you saw him, you wanted to burrow beneath his clothing and find a home there. You didn’t know if it was his Cali sun-kissed skin, or maybe the fire from his cigarettes, or a combination of both, but it was entirely Billy.
His hand trailed up your back to your neck, his other gripping your thigh, trying to plant you there. And part of you wished he’d squeeze harder so the bruises would remind you of this moment.
But you had to pull away.
You panted into each other's mouths, foreheads pressed together. And his hands slid to your waist and wrapped around you, hugging you to him.
“There’s somethin’ I have to tell you,” he whispered, lips brushing your cheek.
“You can tell me anything,” you said, thumb rubbing his jaw.
“I love you.”
You pulled back to look at him better. “What?”
“I,” he cleared his throat, “I love you.”
You caught the panic in his eyes, but before he could move, you put your hands atop his.
“I love you,” you breathed, smiling.
He laughed, cupping your cheeks to kiss you—soft and sweet, and it felt like love.
“Does this mean I can call you ‘baby’?” you asked, a teasing lit to your voice.
He grinned, pulling you closer by your hips. “You better.”
He kissed you again, and you had the passing thought that you could do this all the time.
—
The next time you went to the pool, Billy had a lounger and umbrella for you right behind the lifeguard chair.
He greeted you with a kiss, his hand slipping down to squeeze your ass. But you caught it. As much as you liked how physical he was, you weren’t about to let the other pool goers see.
“You shouldn’t have anything to worry about, honey. Just sit back and relax,” he said.
“Why’s that?” you asked, pushing one of his curls behind his shoulder.
“‘Cause I banned that little shit.” He shrugged.
“I’m pretty sure you can’t actually do that,” you said, laughing lightly.
“But he doesn’t.” He kissed you again. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. Now, enjoy the show.” He winked, then reclaimed his place on his chair.
You shook your head slightly but did as he said. And at one point, when you called out a ‘baby’ to get his attention, you knew the flush on his cheeks wasn’t from the sun.
#billy hargrove#billy hargrove x reader#billy Hargrove x y/n#billy Hargrove x you#billy Hargrove x female reader#billy Hargrove x fem!reader#billy Hargrove fluff#billy Hargrove angst#billy Hargrove imagine#billy Hargrove fanfic
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“Fine By Me.”
Pairing - Daryl Dixon x Trans Masc Reader
Warnings - Talk of drug use, illness, needles, identity, possible transphobia.
Setting - S4 Prison
Summary - Daryl thinks you’re doing drugs, but ends up learning something new about you.
Type - Fluff
A/N: this is my first published fic!! i have briefly proofread, and i’m pretty happy with it. hope you enjoy :)
You sat on the edge of the bed in your cell, positioning the needle over your thigh, gripping at your flesh trying to gauge where to inject yourself. your palms were sweaty and you couldn’t get a good grip on the syringe, with Hershel in Block A, treating the prison flu, you had nobody to do this for you. Hershel had told you the week prior that he would be going to take care of the sick, and he took extra steps in showing you how to inject your medication, but this was the first time you had tried on your own, it was proving difficult.
You took a breath and widened your eyes, grabbing your skin and moving your face closer, trying to get the needle in the perfect spot before you pushed it in, ‘just do it, idiot’ you thought to yourself.
You heard a scoff and jumped, looking up with a surprised expression, Daryl stood at your door, holding the curtain you had put up against the frame.
“Didn’t take you for a fuckin’ junkie.” He said, a scowl across his face.
“What? No! I-“ you began,
“I don’ wanna hear it.” Daryl said, starting to turn away and leave.
“Daryl!” you jump towards him, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around, he looked taken aback, offended, you weren’t sure, but before he could do or say anything, you grabbed his arm and yanked him into your cell, peering your head around the curtain to check nobody else was witness.
You held the syringe in front of his face, waving it as you annunciated “This is not heroin,” in a whisper-shout.
He looked puzzled and almost like he was challenging you, as if he was asking ‘oh yeah? what is it then?’.
“I am not a junkie, this is my medication! Now if you would give me a hand with sticking it in my thigh I would be grateful.”
You spoke to him in such a way he stood speechless for a moment, like he was a child who just got an angry finger waved in his face for his attitude.
“Well?” You ask, impatiently.
He flushed red for a moment and sheepishly nodded, taking the syringe from your hand, you sat back down and rolled your trouser leg back up, exposing the piercing site, jab marks from the previous weeks lingering.
Daryl sat beside you, needle in hand, inspecting it, and just as you thought he was about to stick you with it, he hesitated.
“Just lemme see whatever you put in here, I don’t wanna be responsible for nothin’.”
It was your turn to hesitate, you scoffed and looked at him, gauging whether he meant it or not, whether he really needed to see why you were secretly medicating yourself every week, when his expression didn’t falter, you reached into the box under your bed, and pulled out the small vial containing your lifeline.
You placed it into his hand, avoiding all eye contact, this man was the one you worried about telling, he wasn’t as loud as Merle was about his opinions, but they were brothers, they were hicks, surely they had their opinion in common?
He rolled the vial in his palm, exposed the small text written on the label, and brought it up to his eye. The bottle read ‘TESTOSTERONE’ in a bold font. Daryl studied it before peering over the bottle and into your eyes, he looked at you almost knowingly, his eyes told you that it was okay, you were okay.
This was the softest look Daryl had ever given you, he had just said so much more with his eyes than you had ever heard from his mouth, it meant a lot.
He gave the bottle back to you, and took the syringe between his teeth, using one hand to move your trouser leg up, and the other to grip a chunk of your flesh, rolling it between the tips of his fingers until the chunk felt right, he took his hand from your trousers and retrieved the needle from his mouth, poking it into you, and pressing down on the plunger at a slow pace.
You watched him, how he nibbled on his lip and furrowed his brow in concentration, how gently he treated you, you watched as he handled you with such care, you looked so deeply into him that you didn’t even realise he had removed the needle. The sudden sound it made when he tossed it onto the table next to your bed startled you awake from your trance, and you found yourself staring at the side of Daryl’s face, his cheeks flushed and his eyes darting to all places other than your eyes.
“Sorry.” You said, he nodded.
“Thank you for doing that.”
“S’alright.”
The silence was so loud.
“How did you learn to do that?” You asked, breaking the silence so suddenly you caught yourself off guard.
“Do wha’?” he questioned, raising a brow and looking at you through his fringe,
“Inject, it seemed like you knew what to do.”
He nibbled on his lower lip again, looking around the room, as if he was trying to find the words.
“My Mama,” he replied, “before the fire, before everythin’, she was sick, I had to give her her medicine sometimes, she was in a lot of pain, kept her in bed all day, smokin’, readin’ her magazines, Merle took care of her when he wasn’t at Dad’s, but sometimes I had ta.”
He kept his eyes on the ground before timidly looking toward you, you looked at eachother for a moment, before you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, hugging him tight, you were telling him it was okay, you were thanking him for not freaking out over you being trans. You were very private about your identity before the world fell, and you thought you would have to be the same now, you had told Hershel very reluctantly, but he told you that God loved you, and that he accepted you, and now Daryl knew, and he treated you with more care and understanding than before. You thought maybe your family, your new, found family, would be okay with it too.
Daryl wrapped his arms around you, and squeezed before pulling away from the hug and standing up by the door.
“Gotta go, Rick needs help with the fence.” he told you, punctuating his sentence with a half smile.
“Okay.”
He turned away and lifted the curtain.
“Daryl?”
“Mm?” He hummed.
“Thank you, I thought-“ You began,
“I know what it’s like. Feelin’ like you don’t belong. What you’re doin’, who you are, is fine by me.”
#daryl dixon#the walking dead#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon x male reader#daryl dixon x trans reader#daryl dixon x trans masc reader#twd daryl#twd fic#daryl dixon fic#daryl dixon fanfiction#i love daryl dixon#norman reedus#the walking dead fic#transmasc#daryl dixon fluff
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐬
pairing(s); miguel o’hara x fem!reader
summary; isolation was the only way to cure the… bug you were having but of course your worthier than thoull boss didn’t allow it —angstober day; 22—
word count; 1.2k
warning(s); SMUT, sex pollen, objectification, oral (f receiving), p in v, kisses, pet names, and language
A/n:—GIFs; @miguelo-hara & @ennaih—
“Miguel it’s not gonna work” Lyla sighed hovering over the man’s shoulder as he worked his way way up the stair to your spare room in spider society that was supposed to be an office You, Hobie, Gwen, and Pavitr had turned into a hangout
When he put his hand over the reader to enter he didn’t expect for it to be denied flashing a bold red against his tanned skin
“Lyla what is thi-”
“Y/n wanted the floor shut down from everyone, including you” The hologram sassily cut off the variant her hands typing against the screen of her makeshift cell phone and Miguel sighed heavily putting a palm over his his eyes and the bridge of his nose
“Override it. No, no, no, no, no, override it.” The brunette demanded and the AI huffed something about you threatening to cut off the WiFi again before the door was opening letting him enter it was almost pitch black their was curtains over the windows with occasional evening sun peaking through his nose was burning with the scent, your scent
“Y/l/n” He called out to no response taking careful steps around until his head shifted towards the open bathroom door you arm sticking out of the frame that he rushed to turning on the light switch to see you lying face down on the cold floor of the the washroom the only thing that kept your body from feeling it wasn’t on fire your form slightly shaking, a thin sheet of sweat covering your skin, stray strands of hair sticking to your forehead, and your suit only halfway on your body your bare back facing Miguel
“Get out” You hissed curling in on yourself
“Lyla, shut down this floor and cut off surveillance” The AI hummed before disappearing herself probably to go lie on someone else’s shoulder for a while Miguel sat a hand on your back surprised that your body heat was rolling through his suit like it was nothing his eyebrows furrowing as he went against your wished sliding an arm under you lifting you up and over his shoulder your hot form almost burning against his while you groaned in protest of the movement until Miguel lied you down on the worn couch
“Listen you need to get you med- Hey! Medbay! Now! Y/l/n-” The brunette struggled to keep you down as you tried to climb over the couch trying your get back to you temporary sacred space before the Latino was putting his arms around under your armpits and setting you back down down huffing when you turned to your second attempt of escape from climbing over the couch to crawling against the ceiling just to be brought down by a web wrapped around your waist
“Why won’t you just listen! You’re acting like a child-”
“Because I’m going insane! I can hear your blood pumping through your jugular, I can smell your testosterone and how you’re getting hard from seeing me in pain like a fucking pervert, I feel like a teething toddler because my fangs are aching to bite down on something, and right now I don’t know if I want to fuck you or fight you so, get. out.” The leaders eyebrows shot up as you went on over time ranting your eyes were pure crimson and it reminded him how he first found you trying to recruit you for HQ
Miguel at you stared at you silently and unmoving until he was smashing his lips into yours while bare chest pressing against his suit covered one pulling away reluctantly looking into your eyes in return searching for reassurance that that he was doing the right thing
“If I start I won’t be able to stop” You whisper forehead lying against his beads of sweat dripping down your temple until a palm was swooping up your chin lifted to meet his gaze
“Let me help.” He muttered his voice gruff chocolate eyes turning to match yours blood and crimson staring back at each-other Miguel grunted while you cupped his erection skin pressing against his skin while your lips overpowered his you tug at the spandex of his suit eagerly understanding your point the tanned skin pressing the spider symbol on his church that loosened the fabric around his body before he shrugged it off his top half matching to you running hit large palms up your bare back the coolness of then comforting the scolding surface of your backside
The brunette lifted your hips where you wrapped your legs around his waist cupping his erection and kissing his swollen lips till you could no longer breathe and after a moments passing you felt your height dipped discovering your new position on the couch situated on his lap your pussy practically leaking through your suit bottoms
“Fuck corazón” Miguel grunted lifting his hips shimmying his pants down to his ankle his thick tip staring back at you angry and red your hand wrapped around the base the tip leaking pre cum and you and you could hear a muffled grunt coming from above you and you greedily devoured the sound whining as you’d clothed clit rubbed against his thigh your temperature at it’s all time high and the brunette shushed you softly helping you shed of your suit placing his cool hands against any skin he could touch
“Slow down Y/n” The Latino reached a hand down to stop you or your cunt from swallowing him while the thought making him wait to buck his hips into you
“She’s not into foreplay at the moment right now” You hummed that soon turned into a moan while you sunk down down onto the thick head of your boss’s cock the width practically splitting you open while Miguel took a hold of your hips occasional grunts leaving him while you killed him of slowly your warm walls wrapping around him like a snug blanket
“Oh fuck ngh- oh shit princesa” You moaned at the sound of his poorly concealed whimpering it travels down to your core and your pain was finally being remodeled into pleasure quick as light the poisonous pollen you’d encountered probably one of the main factors as you began to speed up your pace creating a combination of grinding and bouncing on his genitals dipping your head into his neck while the monster of a man moaned above you the smell of his blood flooding your sense as you pressed kisses against his neck your fangs scraping against his julgular
“Go ahead, do it muñeca” You hesitated a bit taking the skin in between you teeth but not quite biting down until Miguel thrusted his hips up into you meeting your thrust causing a gasp to escape from your lips from and you finally bit down your fangs breaking the skin while you felt hot ropes coat your insides until Miguel bit down on your shoulder causing you to silently scream your legs shaking in response while the brunette rubbed your clit riding you through your high until you were panting rolling off his thighs breathing heavily
“Round two?”
©2023 thewriterg spooktober do not copy, translate, or modify.
#🦇𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑;𝐆#miguel o'hara#miguel ohara#atsv miguel#miguel x reader#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara x you#miguel o’hara smut#miguel smut#astv x reader#spider man across the spider verse#astv miguel#spooktober#kinktober#flufftober#angstober#fem!reader#spider!reader#avengers x reader#romance#smut#i love you#thewriterg
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I know it's scary sometimes being trans in this world so here are some wonderful stories from my life (preface: I grew up in a large metropolitan area and went to an arts conservatory for high-school that housed IB, naval and neighborhood schools in the same building):
- one time in the breakfast line I was talking to a cis male friend (former "no homo" and "faggot" as an insult dude) about why I wanted to take testosterone and I mentioned my voice and he said "you sound like a dude now, like a 13 year old but still a dude"
- I once won a hairy leg competition against cis men pre testosterone
- once upon a time I was in a band and after a gig this twink came up to me and said "you know, we need more queers in metal" (I was wearing a "faggot" tank top)
- when I started testosterone, I asked the only older trans person I knew at the time to come with (a key holder at my job), it brought along a few friends and between the 4 of us, we all had only two hair colors (neon red and lime green), the nurse helping us all with our paperwork was very confused
- that same day my insurance was acting up and my clinic waived my fees completely for my first year of testosterone
- a girl my sister met in outpatient wasn't doing to well and being the only other trans person they knew at the time, asked me to write the girl a letter, we met again years later, she's an incredible drummer, and after a gig, I was waiting with a pedal board outside the lead singers car and she's hanging out her friends window pointing at me and yelling "this mother fucker saved my life!"
- when my own mother was working at a methadone clinic, she met this older trans woman, hoping to give me some guiding light, she connected us, she kept an eye on me for years
- the day after I came out publicly, during my freshman year of high-school, my brother's friend's (upper classmen) all clapped for me when I came into the lunchroom
- my senior year I was barely in class but one day this girl I had known for years stops me to tell me I was on her "top 10 hottest guys in the school" list
- in high-school whenever a boy was being unhygienic in the group (typically someone's boyfriend) I would be used as an example for how he should be (ex. Putting on chapstick properly)
All I'm saying is there's kindness out there for us, amidst the violence there is so much love there, there's humor to be shared when others are comfortable with us.
I know I'm privileged to have grown up surrounded by queer people and to have been so accepted but
It's all here, I promise, and I promise you can find it
If you can't find it at the moment, make it
#queer#trans#transgender#trans joy#slice of life#txt#joy#life#queer life#trans life#its not all bad i promise#it'll all be okay in the end#if its not okay#its not the end yet
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i’m almost 9 months off testosterone today! i think? it’s hard to keep track since this seems like the way my body should have always been. why keep track of how long since it’s been when this is how it should always be from now on!
- here’s some updates!
i have fairly regular menstrual cycles now and i’m still not on any form of birth control. daddy has made sure to make my pussy feel as beautiful and female as ever and she definitely responds in tune with her biology! she gets and stays wet and she makes daddy feel so good.
my breasts!! they have grown so much! i pump them but only rarely because i forget and it does give me dysphoria at times. i’m still learning to stick that out and just try to remember that this is what’s best for me. the world should see my true female beauty. and one day i will have children that i need to nourish with these breasts, so its my duty to make sure they remain plump and healthy. i fit into the biggest bra (i think 38C?) that i brought years ago when i started considering embracing my breasts. little did i know where i would end up!
- and lastly,
i think daddy wants me to have children soon and it’s part of why they have made sure i have only ever had sex with them raw and always while presenting myself as, accurately, female. daddy made sure to condition my female body to respond solely to proper girly treatment. i’m a good girl and i’m proud to be correcting my delusions in order to service my daddys cock the best i can!
- your local recovering ftm ❤️
#ftm girl#ftm breeding#ftmtf kink#detransitionkink#breeding k1nk#forced impreg#detrans ftm#misgender me#ftm misgendering#impregnate her#impreg#trans impreg
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