#Lemon swimsuit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

strafepanzer · 1 year ago

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chapter four: loose ends

of love & lemons | k.bakugo | m.list

▸ ▸ ▸ warnings: 18+! angst, more talking about feelings, fem and male receiving oral, making out, alcohol consumption

▸ ▸ ▸ wc: 6.7k

▸ ▸ ▸ a/n: ahhhhhh omg i love the last scene of this fic so much, i hope you enjoy it too!!

Overthinking has always come easy, but this is just ridiculous.

Thoughts plague you as you wander with the rest of the group through the forest path towards the beach. Chatter flows effortlessly, yet your mind ticks.

Why had Shouto acted like that with you? Did he overhear you in the dorm with the rest of the girls? Did he not like seeing you in your swimsuit? Did Bakugo say something to him? Either way, there was no reason for him to be acting like that towards you.

Your lonely upbringing led to you making friends with most people you came across, but your even matchup with Shouto all those years ago had you gravitating towards each other from the get-go. Your easy, fiery personality melted his cold, icy heart and it wasn’t long before you were study buddies, training partners.

You graduated high school together, entered university together. It wasn’t only huge milestones like those that you shared and bonded through, but simple things like going to movies with friends, bar-hopping; hell, you even organized a surprise birthday party for him at the beginning of year and invited everyone he’d formed friendships with over the years.

Including Momo, which you were kinda (very) bitter about at the time.

A shiver runs over your skin and you wrap your arms around yourself, glancing over at a very animated Denki as he explains the importance of nu-metal to Shouto.

Shouto with his two-toned hair and heterochromic eyes, with his fire and his ice, with his inability to read the room and lack of tact. You’d opened up to him about being an only child and having parents that worked away constantly, and he told you about his mum, why he hated his dad so much. Even so, he’d had his dad design you a suit that could withstand the even hottest flames, despite the fact that he never went out of his way to talk to him.

You were best friends.

It’s not his fault that you were – until yesterday— in love (was it love, really?) with him, and he didn’t feel the same. Not his fault that you felt you needed to distance yourself from him. What was his fault was the accusation that the guy you’d fallen for wasn’t genuine.

And he hadn’t even said anything about it to your face.

Why didn’t he say anything to you?

What you feel for Bakugo isn’t the same as what you felt for Shouto. For him, there was longing; there were schoolgirl fantasies of picket fences and weddings and two spoons for one dessert. Of a family with two kids and a dog and a cheesy adult life together. With Bakugo, it’s different. You want to touch him, hold him, feel him. You’ve fallen for his eyes, the dangerous way he looks at you, and his hands, how they feel on you, the size of yours in his; the way he speaks to you, calms you, treats you like you’re more than a crush. It’s now and it’s real, and you’re exploring it together.

You hold your cold fingers against your burning cheeks as you scan the group for him.

He’s looking at you from where he’s walking, a little bit ahead of you, and you speed up to catch him.

“You okay?” He mumbles, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his boardshorts. You resist the urge to drape yourself against him, the naked skin of his back and chest, swells and dips of his muscled arms. You hum a yes, but your eyes are on the ground. “Right, seems like you’re fucking swell.” His sarcasm is comforting, you knock him with your hip.

“Thinking about you.” Your words leave your lips in a sigh, and he arches a brow at you. It wasn’t a lie, not really. “You’re nice to me.” You smile, holding your forearms behind your back.

“Yeah?” He’s intrigued by your admission, probably more confused than anything. “Why are you thinking about that right now?”

“I told the girls I liked you, and they were confused. Apparently, you’re mean.” You shrug.

“Huh.” He raises his eyebrows, doesn’t say anything else. Doesn’t ask why. He’s oddly calm.

“You don’t care that I told them?” You frown.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t say anything.” You grumble childishly, he chuckles.

“What the hell do you want me to say?” He asks softly, drapes an arm over your shoulders, pulls you against him.

You’re sure you stop breathing. You look up at him, but he’s looking ahead— or pointedly avoiding your gaze, you’re not sure. It’s strange how natural it feels, and you smile despite yourself, pull your bottom lip between your teeth and take a breath in through your nose.

The air is cool, but you’re warm, heart beating sporadically in your chest as you walk through the woods, tucked under Bakugo’s arm. It’s peaceful, calm—

“Oi,” Eijiro calls, jogging up to fall into step next to you. “Can’t believe you didn’t tell your best friend that you’ve got a girlfriend.” He complains with a whiny sigh. “Unmanly, Kastuki.”

“Want me to tell you when I take a fucking dump too, dumbass?” Bakugo growls, pulls you closer. “It’s none of your fucking business.” He reiterates.

“I’m your best friend.” He complains, sets his eyes on you. They trail down your neck to your chest where your jacket is unzipped “I like your swimsuit.” He winks, and you flinch as Bakugo holds up a palm, sends off an explosion in his direction.

“Bakugo!” You scold, hide against his chest to shield your eyes.

But Eijiro’s ready for it, used to it, it seems. He simply dodges, flashes you a knowing smile. “Be gentle with him, he’s sensitive.” He winks, again.

“Fuck off, fuckface!” Bakugo yells, and with a laugh, Eijiro jogs back to Kaminari and the group of teens watching the interaction. Kyoka flashes you a thumbs up and you roll your eyes with a grin.

After a few moments, you look up at him. “You didn’t correct him when he called me your girlfriend.”

“You already said you’d be mine.” He shrugs. “If you don’t wanna put a damn label on it, we don’t have to.” His red eyes are looking down at you, ready for a response.

“No, I…” You make it out of the trees and onto the sand, see Aizawa in the distance with a huge bonfire ready to light. Bakugo stops walking, holds you close as your classmates walk past, shouts profanities at anyone who stares too long.

Shouto doesn’t look as he passes.

Your stomach knots up, and you snake an arm around Bakugo’s waist, pull yourself closer to him. He’s warm, and it’s comforting, solid and stable.

The sun is setting oranges and pinks and purples and blues in the sky, reflecting like molasses against the serene waves of the water. Higher in the sky, the moon’s already out, stars twinkling as twilight threatens to take over the sunset.

You don’t want to move, just want to stay under his arm, looking at the sky forever.

“D’ya wanna be my girlfriend?” He asks quietly, and when you look at him, he’s blushing, watching the sun set in the distance. You watch him for a minute, revel in the serenity of the moment; then you stretch up on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“If it means you’re gonna be defending my honour, then yes.” You grin. His eyes flash down to your body, the curves of your torso, your bikini top. He bites his lip.

“Among other things.” He says lowly, voice husky as his free hand comes to rest on your shoulder, thumb drawing along your collarbone, nudging the jacket from your shoulder. “Your swimsuit,” His eyes are watching his fingers trace the orange piping of one of the triangles.

You shiver, and you’re sure nipple beads under his touch; your whole face heats up. “H-happy coincidence.” You whisper, the same twisty, fluttering feeling in your stomach returning.

He hums, lips descend to your neck. “Happy indeed.”

“Oi!” Eijiro yells from a distance. “We’re waiting!”

Bakugo huffs a sigh, kisses your neck gently. “To be continued.” He mumbles, nuzzling your ear with his nose, sending another shiver up your spine. He zips up your jacket—all the way to the top—zipper tickling your chin.

“Okay.” You laugh, step away from him and drag your hand down his arm, linking your fingers. A shy smile grows on your face as you lead him over to the group, Aizawa is staring at the pair of you with a raised eyebrow.

“What’s this? A couple? In my camp? I give you all far too much freedom.” He grumbles, and Bakugo squeezes your hand. Kyoka pokes you in the arm, waggles her eyebrows when you look at her. “We’ve been cut short.” He says, sighing. “We’re heading back tomorrow because of reasons out of my control, so I’ve put on a party for you.”

“A party?” Deku gasps, chatter ensues.

“But!” Aizawa calls over the noise. “I have a speech that you have to listen to before I go.” His eyes briefly shift to you and Bakugo, then to some of the other students. “I understand that youth is… exciting.”

“Sensei, please.” Kaminari groans. “Not the birds and the bees.”

He ignores him. “You’re making friends, dating, being young.” He takes a pause, for the drama, probably. “But for you, life after university doesn’t entail boring office jobs or climbing the corporate ladder, does it?” You glance around, everyone looks as confused as you. “You will be heroes. I know about your job offers. Four of you have offers overseas, the rest of you have at least one offer here.”

You see where this is going. The cool wind on the beach picks up, and you pull your hand from Bakugo’s grip to fold your arms.

“You’re bound to get even more offers come graduation.” He continues, takes a deep breath. “It’s going to be exciting and new, and although the bonds you create here will be lasting, they’ll be… interrupted.” He rubs his face, tucks some hair behind his ear. “What I’m trying to drive home is this: don’t let the bonds you have affect your journey. Don’t take an offer with a lesser company because your best friend is close by, or your girlfriend doesn’t want you to leave the country.”

You feel that last one like a slap in the face.

Suddenly the vague tidbit of gossip about Bakugo heading to the U.S after graduation is in the forefront of your brain.

There’s a heavy silence, and your stomach is in your throat. You want to look up at Bakugo, gauge his reaction, but you’re frozen.

“Well, just something to think about, I guess.” His tone lightens, and he picks up some bags. “I got takeout. Cooler is full of drinks, but please—for my sanity—don’t drink too much; All Might’s the one who put the deposit down on the cabin and it wasn’t cheap.” He hands a bag to you, one to Kyoka, two to Iida, and trudges off.

There’s a stunned silence, until Bakugo takes the bag from you, opens it and digs some containers out.

“I’m gonna have this one,” he says, holds it out for you to take. “What do you want?” Kaminari and Eijiro flank Kyoka for food and there’s chatter where Iida’s trying to fairly assign containers.

“Uh, the same?” Your voice is small, and he sends you a pointed glare. You cave, tell him your favourite take out dish, and he fishes it out, hands the bag to Deku.

“Come with me.” He grabs your hand, drags you towards the water’s edge. He sits, and you follow suit.

“Look, if you—”

“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes, pokes you in the forehead. “I like you, you like me. Don’t fucking listen to him.”

“But—”

“If you don’t wanna do this, we won’t.” He frowns, rests a wrist on a propped-up knee.

“I do!” You argue, pout. He grins, leans over and kisses your lips.

“Then we’re doin’ it.” He takes his container from your hand, replaces it with yours.

You glance down at the food, his hands. “You forgot utensils.” He realises it as you say it, frowns over at you, embarrassed, then bounds up, heads back to the group. You follow him with the food, a little anxious at your classmate’s reactions to the PDA, but mostly everyone is busy, itching to eat something.

Shouto is crouching by the unlit bonfire, left pointer finger pointed at the base as if he wants to light it. He feels your eyes, turns, and you give him a small grin and a wave. He sends you a tight smile and turns away.

“Here,” Bakugo hands you a pair of chopsticks, follows your line of sight.

“He hates me.” You sigh, glance up at him. “Not that you care.”

“I care. I just don’t want the fucker getting between us.” He sends Shouto’s back a glare of his own, and nods towards Deku and Kaminari, who are sitting on a log with Kirishima and Sero; Kyoka’s on a towel in front of them. “Wanna sit with your friends?”

“They’re your friends, too.” You roll your eyes, lead the way over to them.

“Eh, I put up with Eiji for reasons unknown.” He shrugs, but you gasp at the nickname.

“Eiji?”

“Shut up.” He glares, but you just laugh, fall down onto Kyoka’s towel next to her.

“Hey.” You chirp, conversation stops. You get the feeling that if Bakugo wasn’t sitting down on the log next to Kaminari, that you’d be met with a thousand questions.

“Hey?” Kyoka scoffs, eyeing you with a raised brow.

“Yeah, can’t come over here holding hands and expect us not to ask questions.” Eijiro gets up, slides between Kaminari and Bakugo, nudges Bakugo, almost knocks him off the log.

“Fuckin’ shitty—” He grumbles, but you cut him off.

“Ask away.” You shrug, opening your takeaway box and hiding a smile behind it. They jump on you.

“How?” Kirishima.

“Why?” Sero.

“When?” Deku.

“What exactly is it about this guy that you like?” Kirishima asks again, and you feel all eyes on you. All questions directed at you.

“Ah, well,” you did offer for them to ask you. Bakugo’s eating, but you can tell he’s just as interested in your answers as everyone else. “Look at him.” You shrug.

There’s a burst of laughter and Denki and Sero are complaining.

“You can’t do that! You can’t just fall back on looks! He’s looked like that for years.” Denki complains, annoyed.

“Yeah, we wanna know what he did to finally bag you.” Sero grins, and Bakugo bristles.

Finally?

The boys on the log all see your confusion, and they glance at Bakugo, who is busying himself with his food.

“You didn’t tell her?” Eijiro asks, but Bakugo says nothing, shoves a lump of chicken into his mouth and looks out at the water.

“Tell me what?” You’re suspicious now, but it doesn’t outweigh your hunger. You hoe down another mouthful of food.

“He’s liked you since high school, that’s what.” The red head laughs. But it can’t be right, because the whole reason this thing with him started was because—

“I told you I didn’t like her like that.” He says, reading your thoughts as he waves his chopsticks in your direction. “Your imagination is fuckin’ wild.”

Eijiro ignores the interaction between the two of you. “Yeah, remember in our final year’s sport’s festival when you turned into a human torch and your clothes—” Disintegrated.

“Okay, okay, yeah, I don’t want to remember that.” You laugh, whole body heating up in embarrassment.

“You’re making me sound like a fucking pervert, it wasn’t because she was naked that I fucking—you know what? I don’t need—” Bakugo’s getting flustered, and you’re enjoying every second. “Just fucking drop it, or I’ll kill you.”

“Technically, Cementoss cubed her in before anyone could see anything anyway.” Kyoka adds, thumbing in your direction. “But you’re telling me that you knew, and you didn’t tell me?” She glares at Denki then, who jumps in shock at her accusation.

“He said he’d kill me!” He defends dramatically.

Your attention creeps back to your boyfriend—you’ll need to get used to calling him that—and you watch him as he eats, looks out to the ocean, steals a glance at you. You grin at him, and he blushes, rolls his eyes.

The rest of the class find their way to the adjoining logs, towels are laid down for the students that were too slow, as everyone sits down to enjoy the food. When the food’s gone—Iida, Izuku and Bakugo eat thirds—Denki rushes back to the house with Kyoka to get her hero boots—for music, of course—and chatter ensues.

Mostly about you and Bakugo.

Go figure.

“Come for a walk.” Bakugo holds his hand out for you to take, and you grab it. Then you’re slipping off your sandals and walking along the edge of the water, bathed by the last light of the barely there sun.

You chuckle, he glances down at you, brow arched in a silent ‘what?’. “You really like me.” You laugh, poking him in the stomach. “How embarrassing!”

“Wow.” He rolls his eyes, but he can’t hide the ghost of a smirk on his face. “Really mature.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” You ask, watching as the water runs up to cover your feet, sand tickling the tops of them.

“Doesn’t fucking matter.” He grumbles, looks up at the stars.

“Katsuki,” You smile, testing his name on your lips as you turn to him, cover your joined hands with your free one. “Kiss me.” You demand gently, propping up on your tippy toes, and licking your lips.

He doesn’t reply, just covers your mouth with his, presses a hand to the back of your neck. You drop his hands and run your fingers through his hair, hum against his lips as his other hand dips under your jacket and runs up your back.

With a surprising push, you tumble the both of you down onto the sand, laughing. You’re straddling him, running your hands down his torso, lips on his throat as he reaches for the lip of your zipper, runs it all the way down until your jacket’s open.

He breathes your name and you stop, push back to meet his eyes. “I, uh,” he starts, staring up at you; he pushes some hair from your face and runs his thumb along your wet bottom lip. “I’m not just… second best, right?” He says it so softly, you’re not sure it’d even come out of his mouth.

“No.” You frown. What? “No way.” You’re torn between being sad for him—it’d take a lot for him to ask—and being offended that he felt you’re ingenuine.

“Fuck, it’s just,” he breathes, drags his hand down his face. “I’m not used to this, and I’ve wanted you for a really fucking long time, so…”

“It’s okay,” You mumble, lean down to kiss his forehead. “I’m here.” His nose. “Touch me.” His lips. You look into his eyes for a brief moment, then his kissing you hungrily, hands in your hair, leaving you breathless.

“Okay you two, that’s enough!” Mina yells. You take your lips from Bakugo’s neck and sit up, send her a glare that she probably can’t see. The sun’s completely gone now, moon high up in the sky surrounded by the kind of stars you can only see out by the countryside. It’s nothing like being in the deep smog of the city.

Bakugo gropes your butt over your swimmers. “I’m not done.” He grumbles lowly. You laugh down at him, pinch one of his pretty pink nipples. “Oi—”

“Come on!” She yells, closer. “Geez, I can’t believe I’ve gotta find out about you two from Denki. Denki! I thought we were friends.” She rants, closer. You hop off of Bakugo, dust the sand from your knees and calves.

“I’m sorry, it’s kind of a sudden thing—”

“Why the fuck are you screaming at us to come back?” Bakugo snaps, turning his back to Mina, adjusting his… oh. You laugh and link arms with her, hold your hand out for him to take when he’s ready—which he does. It’s nice to hold his hand. Good to just be touching him.

“We’re about to light the bonfire, and y’know, who better to do it?” Mina sighs, leaning her head against your shoulder.

“Uh, Shouto?” You snort.

“Don’t know where he is. He took off with Momo and they’re not on the beach; Tsu said not to bother with looking for them.” She shrugs as the three of you trudge up the beach, through the soft, dry sand.

“Couldn’t have pretended you couldn’t see us, though? Fucking figures.” Bakugo mumbles, and you squeeze his hand, send him a smile over your shoulder.

“Shut up, stop being such an asshole.” Mina grumbles. A few of your friends cheer upon your arrival.

“Fire time!” Denki announces, bouncing up from the log he was perched by Kyoka on. “Okay, Fire Princess, light us up!” He does a jiggy dance, points dramatically at the fire. Mina jogs over to sit next to Toru, and Bakugo rests his chin on your shoulder.

“C’mon, Fire Princess, we’ve got things to do.” He whispers in your ear.

“Are you ‘things’?” You laugh, raise an eyebrow at him.

“Maybe.” He shrugs. You laugh and shake him off, move closer to the huge mound of logs and sticks and kindling, crouch at the base. Generally, you’d use your hands to shoot the fire, but you’d been training on something you called ‘dragon technique’ lately, and—if it didn’t get out of control—it’d look really fucking sick.

You pick a spot right at the centre of the base, between the logs and sticks, and—like blowing out a candle—you purse your lips and blow, the flames hitting their target with ease. Your friends cheer, and you shoot a look back at Bakugo as you tuck some hair behind your ear.

Like any normal fire without petrol, it takes a while to grow in size, but it doesn’t matter. Bakugo lays his towel out and you drape yourself between his legs, both of you watching the fire grow —and Ochako and Mina dancing in front of it—as Kyoka plays some pop/rock song that she’s been ‘totally obsessed with lately’ from her boots.

“Here!” Kirishima grins, throws you both a drink. You sit up to catch yours, the other one whooshes past your head and into Bakugo’s hand.

It’s beer.

“I don’t know if you drinking is the best idea.” Bakugo says lowly in your ear, reaching over to pluck it out of your hands. “Remember last time?”

“Last time?” Eijiro butts in, looking at you quizzically.

“Ah, don’t worry about it, boring story.” You laugh, toss a look over your shoulder at Bakugo, who’s drinking your beer, Adam’s apple bobbing.

You glance around and find Momo sitting with Mineta and Tokoyami, beers in their hands, no Shouto in sight, which is strange until,

“Can I have a word?” You look up and see Shouto, standing over you and Bakugo. God, he’s so fucking quiet, like a ninja. You feel Bakugo tense behind you, so you pinch his thigh.

“Yeah, of course.” You smile, moving to get up. Before you’re at full height, Bakugo grabs your jacket, pulls you down by the collar to plant a kiss on your lips.

He doesn’t say anything, but you can see the pleading look in his eyes; it shoots into your heart like an arrow.

“Be right back.” You smile, trying to reassure him, then you ruffle his hair and follow after Shouto, who must have walked off the moment Bakugo kissed you.

It’s quiet, besides the music thumping in the background. Serene.

“I’m sorry.” He says quietly, looking up at the moon. You follow his line of sight, take in the glowing orb, shadowy craters scattering its surface. When you don’t say anything, he elaborates. “I didn’t think of your feelings, or Momo’s. I can…” He takes a breath, huffs a sigh. “I can tell you like him, and he can’t keep his hands off of you, so—”

“Alright, alright, that’s enough, you’re making it weird.” You laugh, the weight of the past few days falling off of your shoulders. It's embarrassing how a few simple words could completely diffuse the situation.

“Bakugo seems to really like you, but if he ever hurts you, I’ll kill him.” He says seriously, stopping in his tracks, looking down at you.

“I think I’ll be okay, Shouto.” You smile. You hold out your arms for a hug, but when he steps closer, there’s a loud whistle.

You both look to see Bakugo watching, arms crossed over his chest. “TWO FUCKING FEET APART!” He yells, Kirishima chuckles into a fist next to him.

Shouto retracts his step, shakes his head with a smile. “As long as you don’t hate me.” He rests a hand on top of your head, smiles and takes it off.

“I don’t think I could, to be honest.” You beam up at him. And it’s the truth, he’d always hold a special place in your heart: the first love, the best friend. “C’mon, you need to go thank your girlfriend for making you a better person.” You nod towards the group, see Bakugo sit back on the towel in the distance.

“True, true.” He runs a hand through his hair, turns and begins walking you back to the group. “So, you’ll keep training with me?” He asks, almost a mumble.

“I… I hadn’t thought about stopping that, Shouto.” You say, brows furrowed. You usually spend holidays with the Todoroki’s, with your parents generally gone during them. Gone almost always.

Last year, you even spent Christmas with them.

Endeavour even called you the morning of your birthday.

“Good. Endeavour would be… disappointed.” He says slowly, flicking his hair out of his eyes with a shake of his head.

You snort. “You mean, I wouldn’t be the buffer?” Endeavour treats you well to impress his youngest son; you know this, he knows this, his siblings know this. You elbow him. “I’m not stupid, Shouto.”

“Sorry.” He chuckles nervously, mildly ashamed. “I mean… thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Okay.” He smiles as you walk back up to Bakugo and Kirishima. “Have a good night.” He calls, gives you one last smile, then scans the group for Momo, heads to her.

The sand crushes beneath your feet, gets between your toes. “Hey,” you call with a smile. Bakugo downs the rest of his beer and smashes the can, tosses it beside another one—also reduced to a misshapen tin ball. “Whoa, slow down, sexy; the night is still young.” You laugh, plant yourself in his lap.

“What, you’re not running off into the sunset with the man of your dreams?” He asks gruffly, signature scowl on his face.

You know he means Shouto, but you wrap your arms around Bakugo’s neck regardless. “No, I’m sitting on his lap while he makes listless accusations.”

“Ooh, big words.” His eyebrows disappear into his hairline, hands grab at your naked thighs.

“Big words for a big girl.” You grin back proudly, leaning up to press your lips to his. “Your girl, Mr I-Need-Constant-Validation.” Your hands sprawl over his chest, feeling the hard muscle, as his face flushes pink and he pouts.

“That’s not true.” He scoffs. You laugh and kiss him again, and Kirishima clears his throat. You pull away, embarrassed, and look over to him.

“Just want you to know that I’m still here.” He chuckles bashfully, flashing his razor-sharp teeth at you in a grin.

“Sorry—”

“Maybe you should leave then, idiot.” Bakugo snaps at him, eyes still on you.

“Mean.” You pout. “He’s your bestie.”

“I don’t see yours hovering around.” He says against your lips.

“I’m still here.” He groans, and you kiss again. “Alright, consider me gone.” He shakes his head with a slight laugh, springs up from his spot on the sand, mutters something as he walks away.

Bakugo actually laughs, and it’s so smooth and reassuring that you lean in for another kiss, drape yourself all over him. “I think… we need to ditch this party.” He whispers.

You agree, but deep down you know bonding with the group is important, especially now with graduation looming overhead. “The party just started! And Aizawa got us beer.”

“And vodka.” Kyoka announces her arrival, Bakugo groans. “Hey to you too, asshat.” She smiles, joins you on the towel, hands you a can.

“Thanks.” You smile.

Bakugo lifts you from his lap, places you easily next to Kyoka. “I’ll go get my own drink.” He says, sends your friend a glare, and trudges off.

“I know Denki’s an idiot, but that guy? Hard work.” She laughs, takes a sip. “Probably cranky because he’s up past his bedtime.”

You laugh, watch him as he approaches Momo and Shouto. “Ah, he puts up a front. Once you get past his hard exterior, he’s a softie.” You smile, turning back to her. She snorts. “He is!”

“Oh god, you really like him. Like, a lot.” She accuses, whacking your shoulder.

Yeah. Yeah, you do. It’s kinda scary, and Aizawa’s words ring back through your mind.

“Do you and Denki know what you’re doing after UA?” You ask, changing the subject, curious about what they’d discussed. As a couple.

“Hm? Ah, every time I bring it up, he gets upset.” She sighs, shakes her head.

“Really?” You take your first sip of the vodka, cringe at the sweetness as it hits your tongue.

“Mm.” She nods, lays down and rests her head on your lap. “We had another argument about it when we went back to camp to get my boots.” You smile sympathetically down at her, dust her bangs from her forehead with your fingers. “I actually have a lot of offers, mostly spy work, but still. He… he’s upset about it. Doesn’t want me to go too far.”

“That’s sweet, isn’t it? You sound annoyed.”

“I am annoyed.” She frowns, tries to drink from her can laying down, but it dribbles from the side of her mouth, down your thigh, and you squeak, jolt at the cold.

“Shit!” You yelp, and she chokes on her drink as she laughs, and more splutters over your lap and your jacket as she struggles to sit up. “Kyoka!”

“I’m sorry!” She laughs, wipes tears from her eyes and vodka from her mouth.

“Get up, we’re going in the water.” You say, standing up, wiping at the rivulets running down your legs.

“Oh, no I’m not. It’s cold as fuck.” She frowns, swats your hands away as you try to grab her.

“Yes, you are! Come on, we’re at a beach!” You argue, stand to unzip your jacket, shrug it from your shoulders and let it fall to the towel. “Get up, Kyoka.” You’re pleading, now, hell-bent on getting in the water.

A low whistle travels through the air, just loud enough for you to hear over the music. You look around and see Mineta sitting on a towel not too far away, staring at you. He winks at you, and you bristle, your eye twitches in annoyance. But before you can chew him out, the menacing presence of your new boyfriend fills the air, and his hands are splaying over your stomach, his red eyes glaring at your pervy classmate.

“You like your eyes in their sockets, asshat?” He asks, just loud enough for Mineta to hear. He pales, swallows, and nods. “Then keep them off my girlfriend.”

It’s in that moment that you decide Bakugo’s scarier when he doesn’t swear. Its menacing, bone-chilling.

He reaches down for your jacket, kisses your lips on his way back up to standing. “Let’s get outta here.”

“But—”

“Gotta clean you up, don’t we?” He asks huskily, and there’s a glint in his eye that makes your heart stammer, sends your brain into overdrive.

“Y-yeah, we do.”

“Okay, goodbye, have fun getting freaky.” Kyoka says quickly, and you poke your tongue at her, before you’re walking away under his arm, heading towards the forest.

“Hot spring?” You ask, glancing up at him.

“If we make it there.” He grins.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You narrow your eyes playfully, and he shrugs innocently as he takes you away from the forest path. “Bakugo,” you laugh. “Where are you taking me?”

“Just here, against this tree.” He grunts, swinging you around until you’re—laughing— backed up against the trunk of a thick redwood.

“What’s that even mean—” you ask, but he drops to his knees in front of you, and your whole body goes hot. The moon shines brightly through the canopy of the trees, bathing Bakugo in a kind of angelic glow, so incredibly unlike him. How ironic. He licks his lips as his hands reach for the backs of your knees, edges his mouth closer to your sticky thighs. “N—Baku—”

“Shh,” he coos softly, dark eyes staring up at you as you dig your fingers into the bark of the tree, suck your bottom lip between your teeth. His lips ghost over one of your knees and he trails slow—painfully slow—wet kisses up your thigh, licking over the sticky residue left over from Kyoka’s drink.

You manage to keep it relatively together, until a hand goes to your hip, and he licks up so close to the apex of your thighs that you moan, and he growls, hands gripping you tighter.

“Gonna make you feel good.” He promises, voice rough and gravelly as he looks up at you, nose running up your clothed slit.

“Bakugo!” You jolt, but he doesn’t stop, replaces his nose with his lips, tongue. He pulls your hips closer to his face, tongue running along the nylon, drenching it, making it stick to your lips. Then a hand is gone from your hip, and your swimmers are pulled to the side, and his lips kiss your pussy, tongue licks a stripe up your folds, and your fingernails are digging into his scalp as your head thunks against the tree, eyes screwed shut because, “Fuck,” you breathe, gasping.

You can hear him growl, feel the vibration against your clit as he wraps his lips around the bud and sucks.

You barely muffle your cry, as pleasure runs hot through your bones and you go spineless, collapsing into his arms. He doesn’t give you much time to recover, kissing you hard, slippery tongue between your teeth coaxing more moans from you, revving you back up again.

His fingers rub you gently between your thighs, toying with the wetness. “I think we made a bigger mess.”

“Ugh, shut up.” You groan, embarrassed, and he licks his lips before capturing yours again in another hungry kiss. You’re pulled onto his lap, straddling him, and rubs you more surely, teases you with a finger. “Do it,” you urge him, breathless yet again, and he wastes no time

“So wet, baby.” He moans, jerking his hips up with his finger’s thrusts, kissing your cheek, then your neck. Your head falls back, the now familiar pleasure building as he adds another finger.

“Let me… I’ll do you, too.” You breathe heavily, grabbing at the strings of his board shorts, ripping the Velcro open.

When you finally have him in your hands, he groans against your mouth, and you pull away from him to spit on your hand, before giving him a few wet pumps and kissing him again.

“You…” you breathe, and he looks at you, slows his fingers. “Do you want to pu—”

“No,” he chuckles, uses his free hand to push the hair from your face. “Not here.”

“Are you sure, because I—” he kisses you quiet, pushes a third finger into you, and your head falls to his shoulder, whole body on edge again. “Ahh, f—feels good, Katsuki.” You breathe, and he bucks up into your hand, reminding you to do him, too.

“Say it again.” He growls, licks a stripe up your neck, nips at your ear. “My name,” he breathes.

You moan, his fingers hitting that spot again, and again, and again—“Katsu—” and you’re coming again, back arching, whole body going tight, stars spinning behind your eyes as his face nuzzles your chest.

He pulls himself out of your hand, ready to finish himself off, but you’re hungry for him already, pushing him back, taking him between your lips for the second time that day.

He’s groaning—a salty, musky mess—and it makes your head spin, gives you a power you never even dreamed you’d have. You look up at him through your lashes, see his dark eyes drinking you in. He reaches down and pulls your bikini up—breasts springing free—and gropes at your tits, closes his eyes and lets his head fall back against the grass in bliss.

You grip a thigh, hold him down with a splayed hand over his chiselled abs, and take him deep once, twice, three times, before coming up for air, eyes watering. He grunts, pushes back up into you, and you do it again. His hands are in your hair, holding you down as he calls your name, and he cums hot and heavy down your throat, cock pulsating between your lips.

You swallow all of him.

“Ah, s-sorry,” he breathes heavily, sitting up to check on you, pushing your hair from your face, and holding you like you’re made of glass.

“Mmm… Hold me,” you smile blissfully, fall against his chest as he chuckles, kisses your hair. “This’d be better in a bed. We could just… fall asleep.” He hums in response, traces patterns on your back, tickling the skin.

“Do you wanna go back to the party?”

“Won't that be… suspicious?” You smile up at him. He kisses you, holds your face with both of his hands, rubs his thumbs along your cheeks.

He’s stirring it back up within you, conditioning you to want him after every deep, sensual kiss. He pulls back, breathless.

“You think I give a fuck what those extras think?” He says, tone betraying the almost grin on his face. You roll our eyes, push away from him and stand up.

“Come on, then.” You whine, fix your bikini top, then the bottoms.

“Babe, you look so good; come back down here.” He bites his bottom lip, and it’s so sexy that your eyes go wide, face blazing as you take him in: half-naked, cock out, sweaty, flushed.

“If I come back down there to you, I’m making you fuck me, so let’s just go.” You cross your arms, pick up your jacket, and turn, heading towards the fire.

“Oi, I said come back here!” He calls, fixing himself up, and following. You break into a run, and you’re laughing as he chases you, dodging trees until you’re on the beach. He’s hot on your heels, so you drop your jacket, make a sprint for the water. “Come here!” He’s yelling, but you’re still laughing as you enter the freezing water, fall against a wave.

When you come back up, he grabs you, pulls you onto his lap and kisses you gently. His hair is wet, flat against his head, and he shakes it out, attempts to fluff it back up.

“Gotcha.” He grins, and you kiss him again, bathed by moonlight, your fingernails in his hair, his hands on your back.

#bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #leese writes #ol&l fic

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roanofarcc · 17 days ago

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BABYDOLL: CHAPTER ONE. STORM BREAK

jj maybank x fem!routledge OC // read on Ao3

The Routledge twins didn’t share much in common aside from their namesake and their shit-luck. John. B took after their missing father while Charlotte was told she was a spitting image of her runaway mother. However, an affinity for curiosity, secrets, and treasure hunting seemed to run in the family.

word count. 3.5k || masterlist

next chapter

Season One.

If there was one thing the rich folks of Kildare Island liked more than day drinking, it was having literally anyone else look after their kid. They didn’t care if that person was an underpaid lifeguard trying to enjoy their lunch break.

“This is so stupid!” A young girl cried from inside a bathroom stall.

Lottie Routledge pulled a towel closer around her shoulders in an attempt to combat the building's air conditioning. She wreaked of sunscreen and chlorine, but the country club locker rooms were overwhelmed with lemon-scented cleaner. The shiny white tiles and glittering fixtures seemed to laugh at Lottie every time she entered, reminding her that even rich people’s bathrooms were nicer than anything she’d ever owned.

“It is stupid,” Lottie replied. “But it’s an unfortunate side-effect of womanhood.”

The young girl was quiet for several moments before she emerged from the stall dressed in her swimsuit and the pair of shorts Lottie had worn to work that morning. They were a little big on the pre-teen, but they were better than anything else she could have offered.

“I can never show my face here again.”

Lottie bit back a laugh, amused as the dramatics. “Wheezie, I don’t think anyone even noticed besides me.”

The youngest daughter of the Cameron family let out air from her cheeks, which were tinted red from the run and from the embarrassment of getting surprised with her period at the pool.

Wheezie came to the pool often, always dropped off by her brother who then disappeared to play golf with his fellow douchy rich-kid friends, her mom who then joined the other young wives at the bar for mimosas, or her sister who then vanished to do whatever Sarah Cameron spent her summer afternoons doing. Wheezie was one of the better kids who Lottie watched during her lifeguarding shifts. She followed the rules and liked to make small shit-chat with Lottie on slower days. Which was why she didn’t hesitate to flag down the girl before she stepped into the pool.

“It’s still embarrassing.” The kid dramatically fell onto one of the benches. An odd look crossed her face before she reached into the back pocket of her shorts and pulled something out. A joint was pinched between her fingers and Lottie was suddenly mortified.

She must have forgotten to take it out after her latest smoking session on the beach was cut short by a rowdy group of Kooks who were trying to act like they owned the place. The joint was unsmoked so she pocketed it for next time but forgot to take it out before she crashed for the night.

Lottie snatched it from Wheezie and shoved it in her duffle bag.

“Was that a weed?” Wheezie asked, innocently.

“No.” A weird beat of silence passed between them before Lottie switched gears. “Is your sister coming to get you or what?”

With a nod, Wheezie glanced at her phone. “She’s here. I told her I was hiding in the locker room.”

Less than a minute later, Sarah Cameron entered with a certain “kook-ness” to her that made Lottie want to both make herself smaller and be mean. It was a confusing set of emotions that came with the rich folks on the Island. Lottie loved to hate them but was too scared to hate them too loudly.

Sarah Cameron was a pretty blonde, sun-kissed, and glossy-lipped. She was the definition of the perfect Kook party girl, with all of the money and notoriety to never have to worry about anything in her life. It sounded like jealousy, partially because it was. Lottie was a lot of things, including a teenage girl living in the hand-me-downs of her friends and brother. But that wasn’t the only reason she had a distaste for Sarah Cameron.

The Kook and Lottie’s best friend, Kiara, had a messy history. Kie hated Sarah, and vice-versa. As Kie’s best friend, it was Lottie’s job to also dislike the blonde. But in instances like the one she was in, Lottie tried to save some face.

“Hey,” she greeted with an awkward wave and tight-lipped smile.

Sarah gave Lottie a once-over, making her feel even more uncomfortable in her work-issued swimsuit. “Hey,” Sarah replied before turning her attention to her little sister. “What happened? What’s the emergency?”

Wheezie’s cheeks deepened their red color. “I started by period,” she grumbled through gritted teeth.

With a gentle sigh, Sarah patted her sister’s back. “Come on, I’ll have Topper take us to get some ice cream, okay?” She gestured toward the exit, but Wheezie didn’t get up.

“No way! I can’t go out there, not until I know no one will see me.”

“It’s not a big deal-” Sarah started but was swiftly cut off.

“That’s what she said too, but you’re both liars!”

Lottie’s alarm rang on her phone, telling her she needed to return to work and yelling at sticky-fingered children trying to drown each other in the pool. She had spent her whole lunch break with Wheezie and abandoned her food in the kitchen fridge.

“How about I go check and make sure the coast is clear?” she suggested, earning a nod from Wheezie. Lottie stuck her head out of the door, looking both ways up and down the hall for any sign of the country club patrons, but especially Wheezie’s little group of friends. No one was around, considering they had just started serving lunch at the club and most people were probably enjoying a meal worth two of Lottie’s paychecks.

Reentering the locker room, she reported the good news to Wheezie, who quickly gathered her things and beelined for the door.

Sarah lingered behind for a moment, looking around awkwardly at the empty room like it was suddenly super interesting. “Thanks for helping her,” she said.

Lottie waved her off with a quick, “Don’t mention it.”

The sisters left, and Lottie dragged herself back to the lifeguard stand. A striped umbrella provided shade from the sun, but the summer heat baked her skin. Her whistle rested between her lips, ready to be blown at the first kid who took off running on the slippery concrete or to break up a game of chicken that got too rowdy.

The rest of her shift took its sweet time getting over, but once it finally did, she boarded her bike, somewhat regretting giving Wheezie her only pair of shorts. But she sucked it up and cruised down the streets of Kildare until the glittering mansions morphed into run-down little homes. The magic of Figure Eight faded into the Cut, the side of the island that homed herself and her friends. It was nowhere near as grand as the rich side, but to Lottie, it was much more comforting. Figure Eight was stuffy, plastic, and clean-cut. The Cut was the opposite.

Her house, affectionately referred to as the Chateau, housed her and her twin brother. It was by no means perfect, but it was her home. The place always smelled faintly of weed covered up by air freshener and the ghost of their dad’s cologne and their mom’s cinnamon potpourri that only Lottie ever replaced. There was a hole in the roof that leaked every time it rained and the window in her bedroom had a broken lock. There was a comfort to it that she felt like no mansion could replicate.

The only thing it lacked was the presence of their missing dad and their runaway mom. To make up for it, Lottie and John B. filled the void with their friends, who were there almost every night.

“Ah, there she is!” Lottie was greeted by a booming voice when she pulled up to the Chateau. Dropping her bike on the grass, she hurried over to her brother and friends all gathered around a small campfire, snacking on pizza and sipping on beers.

She took the seat next to JJ Maybank, who smiled wide as he slung an arm around her shoulder. “Anyone drown at work today?” he asked.

Shoving him lightly, Lottie shook her head. He dropped his arm but not his smile, passing her a beer from the cooler he had his feet propped up on.

Out of their little group, JJ had been in her and her brother’s lives the longest. They met him in third grade, and the three became inseparable. They were too intertwined in each other lives to ever leave it at that point, not that Lottie wanted that anyway.

John B. clapped from across the fire. “Wow, way to do your job, Lot. Gotta keep those Kooks safe, right?” She threw her beer bottle cap at him, but he jerked to the side and it landed in the grass. He stuck his tongue out at her, and she returned the gesture.

Despite being twins, they didn’t look too much alike. John B.'s dark brown eyes and dirty blond hair contrasted with Lottie's light blue eyes and dark brunette waves. They also functioned differently. John B. was more laid back, resting in the weeds kind of person while Lottie needed a clear cut path to figure out where she was going. It didn’t matter how unalike they looked or acted, the twins were known around the island thanks to their dad’s disappearance at sea nine months prior.

Their dad was declared to be dead after three months of searching turned up nothing, but John B. had refused to sign off on it. He said he wouldn’t believe anything without a body, and since he didn’t sign, Lottie didn’t either. Did she think her dad was still alive out there? No. Did she want to believe her brother was right? Of course she did. John B. was hopeful and relentless, but Lottie was doubtful and complaisant.

“And how did you assholes spend your afternoon?” Lottie asked, snagging a slice of pizza to cure her hunger since missing her lunch break.

“We snuck into an unfinished Kook house. Real sweet place,” said JJ.

Kiara scoffed loudly and Lottie could tell in the dim light of the fire that she was fired up. “Sweet? It was the definition of unnecessary! No one needs that many bathrooms with fancy toilets. No one. And don’t even get me started on how they built those houses where a turtle sanctuary was.”

“Seriously, don’t get her started,” John B. cut in with a smirk on his lips. “That’s all she talked about while we were there.”

Kie narrowed her gaze at John B. slightly offended and still clearly angry about the new housing developments happening on the island, which she had been bad-mouthing since before they even began. Lottie didn’t disagree with her. The less rich people who moved there and bought up plots along the beach, the better off she thought Kildare would be.

“Yeah, because it’s ridiculous!” Kie said.

Pope jumped in before John B. could poke Kie even more, teasing her into a full-fledged argument. “We weren’t there long, though,” he said. “Security showed up and chased us off. We made a clean getaway in the Twinkie, though.”

The group always sought out trouble; it was like they were unable to avoid it. And it was contagious because every time Lottie was with them, she fell right into their slightly reckless habits like breaking into unoccupied and unfinished homes despite being run out of there more than once. What they had wasn’t the Kooks' kind of invincibility, cushioned by money that allowed them to do whatever the hell they wanted without consequence. What the Pogues had was pure adrenaline and bad decision-making. The only thing they had to fall back on was each other.

“You’re lucky they didn’t arrest your asses,” Lottie said with a shake of her head.

JJ nudged her arm with his shoulder, grinning in the orange glow. “They couldn’t catch us, even if they tried.”

➤

The last thing Lottie wanted to do was spend her morning at the DCS office. The place held an uncomfortable energy and a fake sense of security that made her chew on her fingernails. Across the desk sat a woman in a nice suit and much too official for Lottie’s liking.

Despite knowing, realistically, someone would figure out she and John B. were living without an adult since their dad disappeared, she prayed for some kind of oversight. She thought maybe they’d overlook them and not catch their mistake until they turned eighteen and were free to continue living without adult supervision. They were managing just fine on their own with each other.

“It’s come to our attention that the two of you are unemancipated minors living on your own,” the woman said, flickering her gaze between the twins.

On their way over, John B. it was best to lie and pretend like their uncle had been watching them the entire time. The people from DCS weren’t idiots but she supposed they didn’t necessarily have proof of their lie, that was until they decided to come around their house and see that their uncle was very much not in the picture whatsoever.

John B. pursed his lips, something he did right before lying. “No. We’re definitely not.”

The woman sighed softly, waiting for an answer from Lottie with the clear hope that she wouldn’t lie to her face. But Lottie shook her head in agreeance with her brother.

“I need honesty to help the both of you.”

“We are being honest,” said John B.

“Okay.” The woman glanced down at the file opened on her desk. Lottie wondered what it said about them in there. What kind of information did they have on them? “Then when was the last time you spoke to your uncle?”

John B. pretended to think, glancing at his watch. “Thirty-four minutes ago.”

“And the last time you saw him?”

That time, Lottie answered, “Two hours and forty-three minutes.”

The woman was quiet for a moment, closing the file with another sigh. She had a gaze of disapproval and pity in her eyes like a disappointed mother. From the photos that littered her desk, Lottie presumed she was a mother. Or maybe they were photos of kids she saved from shitty situations. Their life wasn’t perfect without their parents around, but they were well-off all things considered. Lottie was certain they’d continue to be fine; way better than they’d be in some group home on the mainland.

“We’re going to come out there tomorrow and talk to your uncle. If he’s not there, we’re going to move forward with foster care.” Lottie grimaced, not so subtly. “I want to assure you both that we are going to find you a safe and loving home.”

Lottie called bullshit, and so did John B. but they didn’t say anything else until they were out of the building. Off in the distance, storm clouds loomed, matching their frustration.

“This so stupid,” John B. groaned, running a hand down the length of his face.

Every time she thought about the possibility they’d be put in foster care, her stomach ached painfully. Once DCS started sniffing around their rouse of being taken care of by their uncle, she dreamed of her life in the Cut being pulled out from under her. That’s why she started biting her nails again, a bad habit she thought she kicked years ago.

“What if they split us up?” Lottie asked, her voice small. Leaving her home, leaving the island, was one thing, but she had never been without her brother. Since they were born, she and John B. did everything together. They were the only family they had left. And they didn’t always see eye to eye, but they looked out for each other no matter what. If they split them up and Lottie lost that, she wasn’t sure what she’d do.

He looked startled like he hadn’t even thought of that as a real possibility, but he steeled himself quickly. “No way,” he said. “They’re not taking us anywhere and they’re not splitting us up.” She wasn’t sure it was as easy as that, but she didn’t want to ponder the other “what ifs.” And it made her feel a little less doomed, even though they had no real plan on how to avoid DCS. There wasn’t a chance in hell that their uncle would magically show up tomorrow. They’d be caught in their lie, that was almost certain. The only thing that could buy them some more time lied within the encroaching clouds that blew in from the coast.

➤

“Those are un-surfable waves, dude!” Pope shouted above the claps of thunder that echoed for miles. Impressive waves pounded the shore, aggressive and as dreary as the gray skies overhead. Rain poured in buckets over their heads, soaking them to the bone before they even stepped foot in the ocean.

The beach was lined with signs saying it was closed, but no one was around to monitor whoever was insane enough to venture to the beach in the middle of a hurricane. Agatha was on a war path, but the worst wasn’t supposed to hit until later that night, leaving plenty of time to catch some waves before they grew too intense to surf or too calm in the storm’s aftermath.

Lottie hiked her surfboard up as it started to slip from her grasp. The waves were much larger than usual, but they didn’t look un-surfable, yet. Besides, they had surfed plenty of storms before, and if DCS was ready to take her away from the ocean, from her home, she at least had to get out one last time.

They had postponed coming to their house to speak to their uncle, who hadn’t been around in months, because of the hurricane. It only bought them a little bit of time, a day or two max. The island knew how to bounce back from a storm, their livelihood depended on it. Even when the Cut’s power was the very last to be fixed, they were crafty and hardworking people who knew just how to get by. If hurricane Agatha was their last hurrah, Lottie was going to spend it doing something she loved.

“Says who?” John B. said before taking off toward the water. Lottie followed, excitement fluttering inside her stomach as another shot of thunder rattled. Pope cursed something under his breath before he ran after them right into the angry ocean.

Splashing into the cool water, Lottie braced for the intensity of the current. Harsh waves sprayed her face with salt water and rose goosebumps along her arms. The three of them paddled out a ways before they took turns catching the beautiful and daunting waves.

Between the hurricane winds and needle-like rainfall, staying on the board for too long was impossible, but each time Lottie wiped out, she relished the feeling of kicking her way to the surface before breaking the water with a bubble of laughter erupting from her throat.

She had never been scared of the water; that wasn’t a fear most people who grew up on the island had. The ocean felt like a second home to her; it was where she felt the most thrilled and most at peace. Their dad had taught them to swim when they were very young, tossing them into the water and telling them to keep their head above the waves. Since then, Lottie couldn’t stay away. She was a damn good swimmer, which landed her a job at the Island Club as a lifeguard. And that was why she had no fear riding the waves Agatha sent her way.

Crawling back up onto her board, she sent Pope a wink, who returned it with a nervous shake of his head. The storm was growing more intense by the minute, and they’d be stupid to stay out there too much longer. Plus, she didn’t want Pope to have a panic attack out there. He had only caught one wave and spent the rest of the time watching her and John B., making sure no one died.

John B. seemed ready to go as well. He sat on his board a little way away from them, looking at something off in the distant water. Lottie cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, “John! Let’s turn in for tonight. I’m starving!”

He turned around at the sound of her voice, brows furrowed. “Did you guys see that?”

“See what?” asked Pope.

“A boat. Someone’s in a boat out there.”

Lottie strained her eyes to look out further into the water, but all she saw was growing waves. “Please, no one’s stupid enough to take their boat out in the middle of a hurricane.”

“Says the one who suggested surfing during one,” Pope retorted. Lottie rolled her eyes and started to paddle back towards shore, Pope hot on her heels and eager to be back on dry-ish land. John B. wasn’t far behind, forgetting about the supposed boat he saw.

On shore, the sand whipped around, and the trees swayed, bending in the wind and testing their luck. Oddly, that was how Lottie felt, like a tree in a hurricane, trying to stay upright. She certainly wasn’t the luckiest, but she hoped the next couple of ways didn’t break her too harshly. All she wanted to do was stay there, with her friends, for as long as the universe would let her.

#outer banks #jj maybank x oc #jj maybank #jj maybank fanfiction #john b routledge #sarah cameron #pope heyward #kiara carrera #outer banks fanfiction #obx #obx fic #jj maybank deserves better #babydoll

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cherry-holmes · 1 year ago

Text

RIVER - Javier Peña x f!Reader

Glimpse of a life with Javier Peña

Chapter —

MASTERLIST

Summary: Javi took you to his favorite place on earth: heaven.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Pairing: Javier Peña x Female Reader

Word count: +3k

Warnings: Angst with happy ending (sad!Javi) Parent loss. | SMUT. Again, there's a lot of plot before the smut😅P in V sex. Unprotected sex. Rough-ish sex. Fingering. Sex in a public place -ish. Breeding kink. Praise kink. Pregnancy talk.

A/N: Hello, Hola! First of all I want to thank all of you for the support you gave me on my first work! Muchas gracias! I been writing for almost ten years now, but I haven't publish anything since my first fanfic on Wattpad in 2017😅

I hope you like this one as much as the first one!

I repeat, I'm not a native English speaker, but I'm a translator student so I hope I'm doing it well!

If you wanna send me a request, my box is open!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Several daily high temperature records were broken Tuesday in Texas, including at Houston Hobby Airport, Corpus Christi, Laredo and Del Rio. Laredo hit 115 degrees, marking its 10th consecutive day of record highs...

Indeed, as the reporter mentioned on the radio, those were incredibly hot summer days. The air was dry and the sun was burner, it drain all your energy.

You tried to be helpful at the Peña's Ranch during your work vacations, but the chores felt like torture. Javier and his father used to spend hours under the unforgiving sun, repairing fences, tending to horses, herding cattle, and dealing with clients looking for meat animals. The life of a ranch owner was undeniably tough but prosperous.

Sunday arrived with the thermometer hitting nearly 115 degrees. When you woke up that morning, you anticipated a challenging day ahead. However, Javier woke up with a plan in mind. He mentioned knowing about a river around 22 kilometers from the ranch were he used to spend all summer with his cousins when he was a child. You hadn't explored much of the city since you'd been living there for five months since your return from Colombia. So, you were excited about the idea of discovering your new home state, and most importantly, having a day off to immerse yourself in nature. He was delighted that you had agreed to the plan and suggested that you wear sportswear for hiking and a swimsuit.

You inquired him if his father would join, but he explained that Don Chucho would attend the morning mass and then spend the rest of the day at his brother's house.

"It's just you and me today, mi vida," he promised, his large hands squeezing your hips as he left soft kisses on your shoulders as you prepared containers with cubes of watermelon and mango seasoned with lemon and chile Tajín.

Javier placed a small cooler in the back of his '94 Dodge Ram and filled it with beers, water, the fruits you had prepared, and some tamales you had bought and had leftover from the night before.

You jumped into the passenger seat, and Javi turned on the radio as the truck roared to life. The sound of cumbias tejanas played softly as you admired the view of Laredo's countryside. The wind blew through your hair, and Javi drummed his fingers on the steering wheel syncing with the rhythm of Bobby Pulido's song. You felt his free hand touch yours, and when you looked at him, he took your knuckles and placed a kiss on them. He briefly took his eyes off the road to gaze into yours and said, "You look so beautiful today."

Your cheeks turned red as you laughed shyly, but you couldn't resist teasing him, "Only today?"

He grinned and replied, "You've always been a beauty, chiquita."

Thirty minutes later, Javier parked the truck in an improvised parking lot used by visitors to the river. You grabbed your backpack, which was packed with clean towels and dry underwear, while Javi carried the cooler and his own backpack. As you followed him through the lush vegetation and the cool water of the river, you welcomed the fresh air and the shade of the trees. Families and groups of young friends, some with dogs and others who appeared to have camped there overnight, were scattered about. But you notice that Javi didn't follow the same path as the rest of the visitors.

Curious, you asked Javi, "Where are we going?"

He grinned and replied, "It's a surprise."

You continued hiking uphill, leaving the main river trail further and further behind. However, you could still hear the gentle rush of the river. The air was filled with the fresh aroma of blooming flowers and damp earth. Butterflies fluttered everywhere, and you spotted squirrels and birds with vibrant-colored feathers.

After thirty minutes of hiking, you began to feel very sweaty and tired, especially in your knees due to the rocky path.

"Javi," you called to him, noticing he was climbing effortlessly. "Javi," you called again, a bit more concerned, "Are we lost?"

"Be patient," he responded, sounding a bit agitated but not as much as you were. "You hear that? We're almost there," he encouraged.

You focused on your surroundings, and you could perceive the sound of a waterfall nearby.

You followed him through the large rock formation, and before you knew it, a lagoon fed by a waterfall appeared in front of you. The sun reflected on the surface of the crystal-clear water, making it shimmer. The breeze from the waterfall caressed your face, a soft wind drying your sweat with a gentle, cooling touch, rustling the leaves around you.

The warmth of the sun on your skin and the cool breeze from the river created the perfect atmosphere. It felt like heaven on earth, like an Eden. And the fact that you were there with the person you loved the most made it all feel ethereal.

"You like it?" Javi asked gently in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine as he wrapped his broad arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him.

"Oh my God, Javi, it's so beautiful," you exclaimed, "I love it."

"Nobody will find us here, mi vida," he promised, "People follow the marked path, not all of them explore the surroundings," he explained. "As I told you, it's just you and me. Wanna take a swim?"

"Oh God, yes!" you exclaimed as you placed your backpack under a tree. You were wearing a black swimsuit under your shorts and oversize sports crop top, so you just had to take them off, and you jumped into the water.

The water was so clear that you could see the rocks at the bottom perfectly, and the shimmer of the sun on your skin. You swam to the center of the lagoon, and you heard the distant splash of another body jumping into the water. By the time you surfaced, Javier was already at your side, hugging your body and placing a peck on your lips as you wrapped his torso with your legs. You combed his hair disheveled by the water, running your fingers through his black hair. Then, you caressed his face, passing your thumbs on his mustache and bottom lip. He closed his eyes, absorbing your gentle petting. Your fingers wandered through the freckles painting his broad chest and shoulders. You cupped his face with your hands and kissed him with the perfect combination of tenderness and passion that you knew drove him completely dumb for you.

When he opened his big brown puppy eyes, he looked at you as if you were everything he had ever known.

"Te amo mucho, flaquita," he expressed tenderly.

"Yo también te amo, mi corazón," you promised.

"Are you hungry?" he asked after a couple of minutes of tender kisses and sweet nothings in the water.

"Very much," you laughed and started swimming to the shore.

Javi placed a towel on a rock near the water, and you both sat down to start eating and drinking what you brought. You even fed a squirrel with a piece of tamal, which made Javi laugh as he watched you melt in cuteness for the little animal.

"So, you used to come here with your cousins?" you asked him, eager to learn about his youth and his family. He nodded.

"We used to climb to the top of the mountain and swim in the river that everyone knows," he explained. But his expression shifted from a normal nostalgic sentiment to almost sadness in his eyes. He fell silent for a moment, and you regretted asking and potentially ruining the great moment you were having. However, he continued, "After my mom passed away, I was very angry with the whole world. I started being rude with my father and I started to smoke and get drunk with my friends." He let out a laugh, but it was empty. You knew little about how he lost his mother, since he didn't like to talk about it. He had told you that she was sick, that he was fifteen at the time, and that his father never married again. "One day I had a big argument with my dad. He was very angry because I failed all my exams, so I ran away and came here to the river. I was so angry and lost in thought that I didn't notice I had taken the wrong trail and got lost. So, I kept walking until I found this place."

He looked at the waterfall and the treetops, and you felt a shiver and a lump in your throat.

"I sat on this very rock and cried my eyes out, thinking about how much I missed my mom and that I was ashamed of my behavior towards my father," he added. "This place became my refuge. I used to come here every time I felt anxious, tired, or sad. I never told or brought anybody to this place, not even my father."

You couldn't help but wonder if he had ever brought Lorraine here. After all, she had been his first fiancée, and you wondered if he had considered sharing this secret place with her. However, you didn't dare to ask him, afraid of his response or of making him lie just to please you.

But he knew you so damn well, almost as if he could hear the unspoken question burning in your mind. He loved your low-key jealousy.

"Not even her," he clarified. His hand took yours and caressed your still-wet fingers, then he placed his big brown eyes on yours, so devoted to you. "The very first moment I saw you, I swear that you reminded me of this place. I don't know if it was the heat of the Colombian summer or the blue dress you wore that day, but seeing you seated at your desk brought me a peace I haven't felt in a long time."

You felt tears of happiness gathering in your eyes, butterflies in your stomach, and your cheeks turning cherry red. Javi moved closer to you, wrapping an arm around your waist, his intense gaze still on your bright eyes.

"In that moment, I told myself that I have to bring you here, as my wife. Today is the first time I came back in seven years since I left for Colombia. And you are the only person I've ever shown my most precious secret."

Your hands reached for his face, making him stay still as you kissed him deeply and passionately. His hands went to your back, pulling you closer and kissing you back. You tasted the saltiness of your tears in between the kiss, but so did Javi, so he wiped them away with his thumb.

"I promised to you to be worthy of you, baby, and I intend to make it last forever," he promised.

"You have my heart, Javi," you promised back. "You're everything I have."

He leaned in to kiss your lips again, and then he stood up, pulling you up too.

"Enough of crying, babygirl. Let's swim," he said as he stepped into the water, but you let go of his hand, making him frown.

"Wait," you said, looking around, "Are you sure nobody knows about this lagoon?"

"I'm damn sure, baby. What's the matter?" he said, a bit confused, until he saw you taking off your swimsuit. His eyes darkened as they roamed your completely naked body, and you noticed his Adam's apple moving up and down.

"Is it okay?" you asked him, a mix of innocence and naughtiness that made his cock throb inside his shorts.

"You're amazing," he said as he started taking off his own swimsuit and then pulled you to him and into the water.

He kissed your lips, your cheeks, your chest, and you felt his cock half-hardened against your lower belly. But he let you go, and instead of diving straight into sexual matters, you both swam all around the lagoon, drank all the beers, bathed under the stream of the waterfall, and explored the depths searching for weird-shaped rocks. Sex was an amazing experience in your relationship. You both enjoyed each other's bodies and could spend hours tangled in your shared bed, on the couch, or in any other intimate place. The two of you also knew that there were many ways to make love, and not all of them were about sex. This was one of the connections that Javier learned from being with you. He adored your naked body, and it turned him on. There were days when he just couldn't keep his hands off you. However, he also learned to appreciate it in a way that went beyond lustful desires, reaching a level of intimacy that felt almost divine. He saw you through your nakedness, connecting with your soul, and vice versa.

But when you do fuck, you mean it.

The sun was starting to dip lower in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over the lagoon. You felt his bare body behind you, his arms around your torso as he kissed your neck. You began to rub your buttcheeks against his cock, making him hiss.

Javi's hands disappeared under the water, looking for your core. His index and middle finger found your clit and began to traced gentle circles as he squeezed one of your breasts with his free hand.

You let out a couple of soft moans, trying to keep as quiet as possible, but Javi fastened his touch, making it so hard for you.

"Don't worry, nobody will hear us," he assured you, whispering to your ear, "C'mon, bonita, let me hear you begging for my cock."

"Javi...", you whimpered, feeling his dick slipping on your ass and his fingers between your folds.

"You're such a Goddess," he praised. Javier knew every detail about how to make love to you. He was proud of knowing every corner of your body, every angle, every freckle and every beauty mark over your body. He knew how to made you whimper and scream, and how to make you undone. Yet, he never get bored, not even after three years of relationship and the most wonderful four months of marriage. He would never had enough of every aspect of you.

"I... I need to... feel you inside," you whimpered.

He wanted to made you cum with his fingers and his mouth first, as he always do. But the scene was so kinky and erotic, making his cock throb so painfully.

"Fuck," he hiss, as he carried you, making you gasp, and took you back to the towel.

Javi laid down and you jumped on top of him. His cock was lying on his belly, so you started rubbing it between your wet folds, massaging your clit with his head. His hands captured your hips, so tight you think it would let bruises with the shape of his fingers. But you didn't care, it felt so good.

"I don't brought condoms, baby," he confessed.

"Are you telling me that you planned all this so I let you cum inside of me?", you teased, he shrugged playfully. "You're such a bad boy."

"What are you gonna do about it? Don't tell me that you don't want it too, feel your tight pussy filled with my cum," he whispered, making your core throb around his cock. He grinned, feeling you become even wetter. "I was thinking about starting to build that second bedroom I told you about. How does that sound?"

That was the signal. You and Javi lived in a house that he build years ago. It was at three kilometer from his father's ranch, and since he was not planning to get married at that time, the house only had one room. But now that the panorama had changed, the house was about to transform from a bachelor house to a family home. Starting for make a baby's room next to the the main room.

And just like that, Javi was asking you about starting to try. You answered with a nod and a shaking sigh, your body reacting to his words.

"C'mon, cowgirl, let's put a baby on you," he added, as you took his cock to your entrance. You moan hard as you felt his length stretching your walls, clenching around him. "Fuck, I love that pussy," he groaned.

He was also mesmerized by the view of you on top of him: your skin glowing at the sunlight, drops of water over your shoulders, your wet hair waving with soft air, your hands on his chests, your hardened nipples and your drop-shaped breasts. You looked gorgeous as always.

"You feel so deep, Javi," you moan, starting to moving back and forth, up and down with gentle movements. His pubic hair caressing your swollen clit, his hands over your hips and waist. "I want you to fill my pussy with your cum."

His cock felt different without a condom. You were a married couple, but you still had intercourse with protection, given that you didn't have plans to have a baby until now, and Javi wasn't selfish to make you take pills full of hormones and side effects. He always tried to have condoms on hand, and even though he had insisted that you didn't have to take morning-after pills, you both had sex without protection a couple of times. You always let him know how much you loved his bare cock inside of you and you knew how much he loved it too.

Your whimpers mixed with the sound of the waterfall was music for Javi's ears. He began to push his hips up at the same time as you went down, meeting each other halfway. The air was filled with filthy sounds of wet bodies and moans and whimpers. His name escaped your lips like a prayer, as he watch his cock disappeared inside your dripping cunt.

"I'm comin'... I'm... fuck...," you cried, as you felt a knot buildup on your lower belly.

"I know baby, I can feel your pussy clenching for me," he said. Javi took control of the situation, as you let him fuck you nice and deep, one thumb on your clit and his free arm around your waist to make you stay still. You placed your hands at both sides of his head, so he was able to capture your nipple with his mouth, making you cried and soaking wet.

"Don't you fuckin' stop, Javier! Just like that, me gusta cuando me coges así," you pleaded as he fastened his thrusts.

"Quiero verte corriéndote en mi verga," he commanded.

You reached your climax with a silent scream as the waves of pleasure washed over you, squirting over his cock. You pulled your hips up unconsciously, but he pulled you back down again, buried so deep into you. You felt him almost rubbing your cervix as his warm and thick load painted your walls.

He was also growling and letting out soft whimpers as he watched your pussy dripping a mix of his cum and your honey.

Javi pull out and placed your body beside him, kissing your collarbone and caressing the curves of your waist as you came down from your cloud of bliss.

"That was amazing," you murmured after a minute, your cheeks burning. You cupped his cheeks and kiss him on the lips again.

"I wanna swim again," he said, starting to stood up taking your hand to follow him.

But you pulled him closer, pressing his chest against your breasts as you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him passionately, your tongues entwining. "You're not going anywhere. I told you that you were a bad boy, and you must be punished for that behavior, mister."

He grinned devilishly as you placed your hands over his shoulders and pushed him down your body.

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