#they can suck and they can hurt you but you can get a new one and you should drop one if you don't trust them | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cjlouwho · 1 day ago

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This got a little long winded, so it gets its own post. The story you are about to read is based off of this poll. These are your choices.

Tommy was pretty sure he'd never felt a headache like this before. He wasn't prone to migraines, but he'd seen his mother suffer with them and this... well, this might be worse.

He squeezed his eyes shut, groaning as a wave of nausea fell over him.

It wasn't just his head that hurt. It was his whole body.

Damn, he hadn't been this sick in... well, ever.

His body shook with chills. There was a heaviness in his chest that had him turning his head to the side and choking out a hard cough.

Once he finally settled, that heaviness still there, he slowly let out a raspy breath.

Pudding.

He wanted pudding.

That was odd. He used to crave pudding as a child. Every time he got sick, he would request a pudding cup. And that's what he wanted right now.

Maybe he still had one in the fridge. He'd kept a few things there for Jee back when- Well, he had some kid foods that had been sitting in his fridge for a couple months now. Surely, the pudding would still be fine.

If only he could get out of bed.

He made a mental note to order a new mattress. This one had lasted him quite a few years, but he was definitely feeling the lumps today. It was hard and painful and poked into his back.

“God, this sucks,” he breathed out, blinking his bleary eyes open and... oh.

This wasn't right.

He wasn't at home. Wasn't in his bed.

And the heaviness in his chest was actually on his chest.

That's when the memories came flooding back to him. Going for a flight on his day off. Wanting to clear his head and get his thoughts in order.

He couldn't panic. He needed to maintain focus.

That was hard to do when his brain was all jumbled.

He remembered his phone was... somewhere.

Shirt pocket! That was it!

Carefully, and painfully, he reached up and pulled out the phone.

Miraculously, it was still in one piece. Besides a few cracks to the screen, it seemed to be working fine.

He stared at the screen. The default background that was once a picture of him and Evan.

It hurt to breathe. Hurt to think. He knew he probably didn't have that much time. Not with the way this heavy piece of metal pressed against his body.

So, with fuzzy eyes, Tommy went to his contacts, hovering his finger over the name before pressing down.

“Hello?”

“H- Hey. Long time, n- no talk.”

“Tommy? What's up? Are you okay?”

Tommy huffed out a laugh. “I... Well, that's a loaded question.”

“You sound weird. What's wrong?”

“I wanted to a- apologize to you.” With a grimace, he swallowed down what was definitely blood.

“For what?”

“For everything.”

There was a pause, then, “Did you do something stupid?”

“Not intentionally,” he deadpanned. “Listen, I- I kinda got into an accident and I...” his voice trailed off as he went into a coughing fit. The movement sent a pain shooting from his leg to his back. “Damn it!” he yelled.

“Tommy! Tommy, talk to me. What do you mean you got in an accident?”

“No, it- it doesn't matter. I just wanted t- to apologize for the way I left you.”

“You apologized for that years ago, Tommy. Tell me what happened so I-”

“Abby!” he exclaimed, the hunk of metal over him creaked as it lowered slightly. “I don't... I just need to apologize. I- you loved me, didn't you?”

“Yeah, I did. Car crash, or were you flying?”

“F- Flying. I loved you too. Not... Not the same though. Sorry.”

He could hear her mumbling something to someone else, then she was back on the line. “I'm calling 911 with Sam's phone. Stay on the line with me, Tommy. Are you in LA?”

“Mhm. Do- Don't think I made it far. Abby, listen, I didn't... I didn't mean to hurt you. I was so s- scared of- of everything.”

“Do you see anything around you? Any indicators for where you are? They're working on pinging your phone.”

When Tommy turned his head to the side, all he could see was trees. “Woods. I think. Can't see much. I was dating th- this guy.”

“Can you tell me where you're hurt? Are you bleeding anywhere?”

“Oh, for sure. But A- Abby, I didn't m- mean to hurt you.”

“Focus, please. Where are you bleeding?”

“Head. Leg. Mouth. Kinda e- everywhere. I was dating th- this guy,” Tommy sucked in a shaky breath, a rattling in his lungs. “Your guy, actually. O- Our guy?”

“Tommy, I think you're getting confused. I-”

“No, no. Evan. Buckley, Ev- Buck. Him.”

There was silence on the other end of the line.

“Hello?”

“No, I'm here. I- You're dating Buck?”

“Was dating Buck. I- I ended it. I'm c- cold.”

“Help is on the way, Tommy, just stay with me. You broke up with Buck. Why?”

“Remember wh- when we went to karaoke nights? Th- That was fun, wasn't it?”

Abby sighed. “It was, but that's not what we're talking about.”

“Wh- What was the song we us- used to sing?”

“You were a big Queen fan. I Want to Break Free. Shoulda known,” she mumbled.

Tommy laughed, but it quickly turned into a coughing fit, where blood bubbled up in his mouth.

“Tommy! Tommy, stay calm, okay. Turn your head a little so you don't choke.”

Tommy listened, spitting out the blood before he continued. “We should karaoke again.”

“I don't think that's gonna happen. Tell me about Buck.”

“Evan.” Tears filled in Tommy's eyes and he tried his hardest to blink them away. “We were t- together six months and it all f- fell apart.”

“Why?”

“He wanted... wanted me to move in. Can you b- believe that?”

“Yeah, actually, I can,” she answered. “Buck likes to attach and you're, well, attachable.”

“No. No, I'm not.”

“You haven't changed much, Tommy. You didn't seem to think you were worthy when we were together either.”

Tommy's eyebrows furrowed. Down his back he could feel the sensation of more blood dripping from his neck. “What d- do you mean?”

“The whole time we were together it felt like you were waiting for a bomb to drop.”

“That probably had to do with the whole being gay thing.”

“Mm,” she hummed. “Maybe. Don't think so though. Hang on a second.”

He looked up at the hunk of metal trapping him in place. “Nowhere to go.”

Tommy closed his eyes while he waited. He wasn't sure how much time passed, but the next thing he remembered, Abby was yelling in his ear. “-mmy! Tommy, talk to me!”

“Wha- I'm here, I'm here. God, you're l- loud.”

“And you're an ass. If I was there I'd smack you on the back of the head.”

“That would hurt,” he replied. “With the gaping wound an- and all the blood.”

“Back to Buck. Why'd you say no to moving in?”

“I own a home.”

“And?”

Tommy thought for a moment. “I- I wasn't enough for you, Abby. Couldn't be.”

“Mhm.”

“I hurt you. Didn't m- mean to, but I did. I saw- I saw it in your eyes, when I left, I... You loved me, and I couldn't... I'm sorry.”

“Is that why you left?” Abby asked. “You were afraid Buck would do the same thing to you?”

“I really...” he couldn't stop the tears now. His chest heaved in the little space it had left. “I really loved him, Abby, and I- I saw what I did to you and I couldn't. I just co- co- couldn't-”

“Okay, okay, Tommy, I need you to stay calm, okay? Listen, the dispatcher is telling me that the 118 is close to you. So you stay calm and you talk to me!”

“O- Okay.” He tried to calm his breathing the best he could, but the rattle persisted. He knew that didn't mean anything good. Each breath got a little harder, the blood continued to flow down his neck, and he was pretty sure something was sticking through his leg.

“Did you tell him how you felt?”

“He didn't... He never said it. That he loved me.”

“Did you?”

“No.”

“Maybe he was waiting on you. Did you think of that?”

“I think...” He just wanted to close his eyes. Nothing made sense, the cold feeling was fading, he was going numb. “I think I- I'm dying, Abby.”

“No! Listen to me, Tommy! They're close to you! I need you to make a noise. Let them know where you are. You hear me?! Call for help, Tommy.”

“Abb-”

“Call for help!”

Tommy groaned, more blood coming up in his throat. He managed to move one arm just enough for his hand to knock on the door of the chopper. “H- Here!” he yelled, banging on the door as hard as he could manage. “I- I'm here!”

Abby listened over the phone as the 118 arrived on scene. She could only make out bits and pieces.

“Tommy, can.... me? Talk to... There ya go! We got a...”

“What about the...”

“Hey. Hey, we're here, Tommy. Just focus on... and we'll get ya out, okay?”

“He's losing too... gotta get that off now!”

“Tommy, you look at me! We will... you just gotta promise me you'll... Promise?”

She waited, holding her breath until she heard his voice, just a touch above a whisper. “Promise.”

Things got quieter for a bit, then she heard voices again, so she yelled, “Hey! Hey, pick up the phone! Someone pick it up!”

“H- Hello?”

“Buck, is that you?”

“Yeah, Abby, it- it's me,” he answered, his voice practically shaking. “Maddie said y- you were on the line with him.”

“Is he...?”

“He's alive. We're following the ambulance to the hospital.”

“How bad?”

She could hear Buck sniffling through the line. “I don't know how he's alive, Abby,” he admitted, lip trembling. “It looks like this thing has been through a compactor.”

“And Tommy?”

"Has a gash on the back of the head, concussion, broken ribs, a pretty big piece of glass through his leg, definitely some internal bleeding. He... Chim says he should make it, but we- we barely got here in time. He might've... if he wasn't talking to you he probably...” He couldn't even bring himself to say the words.

“Hey, don't think about that now. He's gonna be fine. That's what matters.”

“Yeah.” Buck ran a hand over his eyes as he nodded. “Yeah, you're right.”

“I'll let you go, Buck, but let me know when he's stable, okay?”

“Yeah, I will. Thanks, Abby.”

“Of course. Oh, and Buck!” she quickly added before he could hangup.

“Yeah?”

“I know the guy pretty well. He loves you. He's just not great at being loved.”

“A- Abby-”

“Don't give up on him. He's worth it.” Before Buck could get in another word, she hung up.

*****

The next time Tommy opened his eyes, he was in a hospital bed.

Evan was beside him, staring down at an empty cup in his hands. Tommy figured he must've sensed the staring, because soon enough Buck was meeting his eyes. “You're awake,” he said, eyebrows rising.

“I-” Tommy cleared his throat. “I think so, yeah.”

“There's been a couple wake ups that didn't quite stick,” Buck explained, standing to grab cup of water. He put the straw to Tommy's mouth and had him take a sip. “Slowly,” he instructed. “Don't want you choking.”

Tommy took a few sips, then settled back in the bed. “How long was I out for?”

“Almost four days.”

Tommy's eyes widened. “You.. You haven't been here the whole time?” he asked. “Have you?”

Buck nodded. “Three nurses have tried to drag me out of here. All have failed.”

Tommy hoped the monitor didn't show how fast his heart felt like it was beating. “Wh- Why? Why'd you stay?”

Buck smiled, wrapping his shaky hand around Tommy's. “A mutual friend of ours told me you were worth it,” he said, his eyes glistening with tears. “I just so happen to agree.”

#bucktommy #911 #tommy kinard #evan buckley #911 abc #tw: blood #tw: near death

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sweetpupii · 16 hours ago

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tw: non-con, somno, fingering & cunnilingus ( r!receiving ), reader cries just a little, praising, overstimulation, abby being the sweetest girl ever ( pretty ironic ) | 1.6k words.

having long nails is great.

they look cute, you can match them with your outfit and your makeup, you get some compliments, they're amazing at scratching and all that.

“wanna know what's frustrating though?” you start, mindlessly scrolling on your phone while abby looks at your new set of nails, her own unmanicured hand holding yours. “not to be, you know, nasty but I feel like I'm gonna slash my pussy open if I try to stick a finger in there the wrong way.”

only a low hum of agreement can be heard from the blonde as she leans back against the couch of your shared apartment, tracing the design that's beautifully decorating the nail on your middle finger. yeah, that looks like it would hurt real bad.

“then get a toy. there is more stuff you can use.”

“of course I know that, but I don't have time either. at this point I feel like a nun!” a ( kinda whiny ) sigh escaping your lips at the mere thought of all the weeks spent unsatisfied. coming home late and tired didn't give you much time to even grab a toy like abby suggested.

but luckily, you have a very thoughtful roommate!

this woman would do anything—and I mean anything—to see you happy because that's what friends are for. helping and supporting each other during tough times and, let me tell you, being sexually frustrated definitely counts as one.

“abby? what the fu—mhggm” her hand quickly went over your mouth to stop your protests to get louder and more panicked while the other worked to keep your legs and arms from pushing her face away. why are you acting so surprised to see her in between your legs when she's just trying to help? it's not like you would be able to push her away but jeez, didn't expect such an ungrateful response.

yes, she woke you up by making out with your pussy but you were basically asking for it earlier.

“gonna make you feel good.” she promised before she kept lapping at your cunt like a starved woman. slurping you up like you're her favorite dish. feeling the vibration of your desperate, muffled sounds against her palm made her speak again. “shh, I won't hurt you.”

taking off your underwear while you sleep, holding you down, forcing your mouth shut and your legs open doesn't hurt! not if you stay still, at least.

her plan was simple.

if she made you feel good by eating you out, using her own fingers to reach places you currently couldn't ( and probably have never been able to ) reach while you slept then you would surely wake up in a good mood and thank her with that precious smile of yours and maybe even a kiss.

but noooo, you decided to wake up in the middle of it and panic. ugh, just when your body was responding so well to her touch. she had seen the way your cunt was glistening when she started to slowly kiss it. the moonlight slipping through your curtains making the sight even prettier, and she'll be lying if she said the thought of taking a picture didn't cross her mind.

but a little crying from you won't stop her, even if she feels the hot tears against her skin.

she's still holding your legs open so she can continue to suck and lick at your clit, tongue tracing each fold and sensitive bit. your hips bucking into her face—but she's not sure if you're liking it and want more or you're trying to push her away.

“don't scream, okay baby?” she whispered against the soft skin on your inner thigh, peppering small kisses, while looking up at your watery eyes, “I'll be so gentle. trust me.”

actually, what other choice do you have? this woman can literally bench press 205 lbs. you get on her bad side and a single smack takes you back to your mother's womb. she has a mean right hook too, those punching bags stand no chance.

but again, it's abby who we're talking about.

the blondie that cuddles you to sleep anytime your bed feels too cold, who makes stupid jokes to cheer you up even if she cringes so fucking hard immediately after, who lets you try to count every freckle on her skin without even asking why, who can listen to you talk for hours and pay attention to every word, the one that drunkenly tells you how glad she is that you're her roommate and friend while kissing your shoulder even if deep down she wishes for more than that and stares at you as if you are the most important thing in the world—because to her you truly are.

so maybe she really just wants to make you feel good...

the second the fear and confusion in your eyes turns into something more calm, seeing the slow nod of your head, the small hiccup and your legs no longer struggling, she pulls her hand away from your mouth to trace the other set of lips, gathering the mixture of her saliva and your fluids on her fingertips before gently pushing one inside. “there we go…nice and slow.”

she might've been wrong for not asking first but how was she supposed to resist the feeling of your warm, tight walls squeezing her fingers just right as she curls them inside. soaking her knuckles in a shiny coat of stickiness that makes her want to dive in face first again and taste it until it becomes the only flavor she'll ever remember.

once she's sure that you're wet and comfortable enough, another thick digit slides in, the stretch earning a moan from you that has abby feeling like angels are singing and welcoming her to heaven. god, she has waited for so long to hear those sounds out of your lips—sounds caused by her, not your vibrator nor whoever you used to invite over thinking you two were quiet. ( she could hear you every.single.time… and honestly? it was so good to get a free show. )

even if her pace was somewhat slow, the thrusts of her fingers still managed to produce soft, wet noises that filled the room as they combined with your heavy breathing.

“told you I'd be gentle.” she cooed against your abdomen, trailing her kisses up your torso until she finally reached your lips. the same lips she has been dreaming of kissing since she moved in, since she first saw you smile, since you finally laughed at something she said, since the first time she saw them in a pretty shade of lipgloss. it's better than she ever imagined and she knows she'll ask ( beg ) for more from now on.

she's head over heels if you couldn't tell already.

“a warning would've been nice.” your quiet words bring a sheepish smile to abby’s face as she sighs, pulling her face away just a little, “sorry, you looked so stressed lately, I figured you wouldn't mind…”

abby aims to please even if she doesn't realize how bad her impulsive thoughts are before she acts on them. but look at the bright side; from now on you have a girl who's willing to drop to her knees and bury her face between your thighs at your own home almost 24/7!

after a bit, she starts to notice that the clenching and throbbing around her fingers gets more frequent and your moans louder, meaning she can finally speed up the pace. burying herself deep into your cunt to reach all the perfect spots she knows you've been missing. “fuck, you're so pretty. I wish you could see yourself…dripping all over the bed.”

she’s breathless as if she was the one getting touched, her own underwear damp just from seeing and pleasing you. can you blame her? she feels like a child on christmas morning.

“that's it, doing so good.”

oh, how she adores the way your hips tremble underneath her. making a mess on your bed sheets as you throw your head back—which she takes as an invitation and buries her face there. inhaling your scent like it's the only thing keeping her alive, like you're the oxygen she needs.

“gonna come? I can barely move my fingers with how tight you are.” liar. no matter how much you squeeze she's pumping them in and out without a single bit of effort. working out daily really pays off in the most satisfying ways. plus, you're too wet and it slides in and out very easily.

and god, her words make the flutter in your lower belly even worse. your hand gripping at her forearm, nails digging so hard she takes it as “it's too much.” when in reality she had fucked you so dumb with her fingers that reaching for abby was purely out of instinct.

she can't even understand the words ( babbles ) coming out of your mouth, all her pussy-drunk mind is able to register is the whiny tone tone in your voice because yes, she's as fucked out as you are.

the loud cry that escaped your puffy lips while repeating her name over and over definitely woke up a neighbor or two and just the thought of it makes abby's ego go up to the roof. who's making the prettiest girl in the building come? abigail motherfucking anderson.

her fingers continue their movements, a bit sloppier than before, but they keep going nonetheless. thumb circling your sensitive clit to add more stimulation.

she shushed your whimpers with soft kisses on your your temple and held you still to keep the overstimulated jerking off hips from pushing her away.

“you can take a little more, you're a big girl.”

and she's an insatiable woman.

masterlist ♡ taglist — @1ckyporcelainbunny @patronagrona

#pupi writes ᝰ #proud of this ngl #abby anderson x reader smut #tlou abby #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #abby tlou #abby x reader #abby the last of us #abby anderson x female reader #abby smut #tw.noncon #tw.somnophilia #ooc probably #sapphic #sapphic smut #kinda proofread ok #FIRST FIC OF 2025 HELLO

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soup0ftheseus · 1 day ago

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I want to add that I have a few friends in wheelchairs, and one of them is high support needs. A friend of mine was dating him and was trying to help him get out to where she was living (he grew up there but lived in another state) and didn't understand why he couldn't travel. Although I am not a wheelchair user, I am disabled and familiar with how difficult travel is.

She is my best friend (and a wonderful, incredible human, who will always try to find a way when something isn't working) and kept being like "but what about this" and I kept explaining why it won't work. I walked her through why he can't get a on a plane. One, he needed regular catheter changes (which is another piece of things, the cost of regularly having to replace an item that gets used frequently). There is no way he was gonna be able to do that. Two, airlines break chairs regularly. He could not afford the cost of a new chair if it was replaced. Three, it's invasive and it hurts. Air travel is bad for most of us, particularly if you're disabled. He was likely going to face invasive security measures. Many wheelchair users have had their body inappropriately groped by security, in addition to random people "helping" by moving you etc. I'm a non wheelchair user, but when I fly I use wheelchair assistance. At one point, sitting in the airport wheelchair, I was anxious and struggling to get my sweater out from under me and back onto my body. A woman CAME OVER AND GRABBED THE SWEATER AND TRIED TO PUT IT ON ME. I was angry and horrified. If necessary though, I could have grabbed my cane and hopped up. He is a paraplegic. He has no control over that. Which is another factor. Someone would have had to move him from his seat to a chair. That's often a vulnerable and embarrassing experience when done by strangers. And to top it off, air travel hurts. For those of us with chronic pain/illness, air travel can be one of the most painful experiences we have to deal with. I often need a few days to fully recover from a flight.

She completely understood after I explained this stuff (and ultimately drove out to him) but she was just like "how is it possible a whole demographic of people can't travel because it's inaccessible??" Because they hate us lol. This whole system hates us.

And my "low support needs" friend? Still needs their partner to be a full time carer. Still can't reach the laundry. Still can't always get places even if disabled parking spots are available. Like literally every single piece of daily life has numerous obstacles that walking folks don't think about that create huge challenges for wheelchair users.

It sucks. It fucking sucks.

people way underestimate the needs of wheelchair users.

there's a lot of what I'll call walkism (bias towards pedestrians and against wheelchair users) among disabled pedestrians (people who primarily walk, assisted or not, as their means of mobility)

diminishing our needs is walkism.

people within the community see us as ableds minus legs. they see our disabilities as simple- just can't walk, it's that easy. they see us as having low accommodation needs and as having the accommodations that we do need met. they see our access barriers as being as simple as ramps and curb cuts.

we are frequently compared to low support needs (LSN) non-physically disabled people by ablebodied disabled people and physically disabled people alike. we are compared to people who walk through life (literally) with little to no support, who make it through school with minimal accommodations, who have access to the whole world.

people are so incredibly out of touch with what wheelchair use actually looks like. people don't personally know wheelchair users, often don't even follow them on social media. people assume they can understand our entire lives by looking at our wheels and imagining. that doesn't work.

this belief that our disabilities are simple especially goes for paraplegic wheelchair users who are so often used as the "closest to abled" examples. they don't consider how many paraplegic wheelchair users experience things like spasms, chronic pain, bladder spasms specifically, both urinary and fecal incontinence, among much else that I'm sure I'm not aware of as I am not paraplegic. they especially don't consider that fact that wheelchair use is absolutely not close to abled.

they don't consider the extent of needs that full time and near full time wheelchair users experience. have you ever had to wait in the grocery store parking lot for 30+ minutes so an accessible spot with an access aisle could open up? how deep is the washing machine in your apartment? how large is the room it's in? is your sink too tall? what about the cabinets? how high is your bed? how low is your dining table? how easy would it be to fit a wheelchair in your car? how reliable is your bus? how reliable are the people on it to not put their groceries in the wheelchair spot? does your workplace have a ramp?

when people become wheelchair users they often have to uproot their entire lives to rebuild in a way that allows them to access things as vital as their home and workplace. when people already are wheelchair users they experience shortages of everything- jobs with accessible buildings, apartments they can get into and use, cars they can put their wheelchairs in easily.

this isn't even getting into things like access to businesses and other locations wheelchair users may want to go.

wheelchair users always have significant disabilities. yes, always. yes, even that disability you think is mild. people don't end up as wheelchair users because they have mild chronic pain or lose balance occasionally. people end up as wheelchair users because they have significant mobility disabilities. significant mobility disabilities rarely act alone. I cannot name a wheelchair user who only experiences mobility disability. everything, yes, everything comes with other effects.

while I've spent a lot of time talking about the comparatively low support needs wheelchair users there are high support needs wheelchair users as well. people only look at those of us who have ability to do all or most ADLs with our wheelchairs, this is not the case for every wheelchair user. there are wheelchair users who use group 3 powerchairs. there are wheelchair users who transfer via hoist. there are wheelchair users who need to control their wheelchair with their breath. there are wheelchair users who can't move their wheelchair independently at all and rely on someone else to push them. there are wheelchair users whose disabilities cause significant disability in areas other than mobility meaning they have feeding tubes, ostomies, suprapubic catheters, and ventilators. these presentations of disability are not even uncommon.

true high support needs wheelchair users are so often erased from every conversation (including conversations among wheelchair users) but I have not once seen a pedestrian mention quadriplegia & tetraplegia or muscular dystrophy or spinal muscular atrophy or any other number of conditions that leave someone needing both a wheelchair and very high support. I never see mentions of intellectually disabled people who use wheelchairs for conditions connected to their intellectual disability and I never see mentions of conditions like sanfilippo syndrome.

ultimately though, wheelchair users are just not a monolith. I will stand by the fact that, while some wheelchair users may have low support needs compared to other wheelchair users and high support needs neurodevelopmentally disabled people, none of our support needs are so low that they are at all comparable to those of low support needs non-physically disabled people. it's erasure of our disability to suggest there is no difference in support required between a low support needs autistic person and a wheelchair user on the low support needs end of the wheelchair support needs spectrum.

it is especially erasure to collapse all wheelchair users down to the lowest level of support needs a wheelchair user can have. it pretends that our higher support needs siblings don't exist.

the community does not understand us or our struggles. it won't understand us or our struggles until we are included, until people stop seeing us as the most privileged part of the community and until people stop minimizing our struggles. walkism is the reason wheelchair users have built our own communities separate from the rest of the disabled community. it is made clear time and time again that we are not welcome and we will not be understood.

A note: by wheelchair user I am specifically referring to people who use a wheelchair on a regular basis for day-to-day tasks. for the sake of this post I am not including people who only use wheelchairs at the mall/Disney/theme parks/other long distances.

[all dividers are described in alt text]

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phosphostar · 2 days ago

Note

currently Thinking about Curly with an Innocence kink for younger reader

when am i not thinking about this?? omg he’s so cutie

cw: smut!!!, pwp? (f) receiving fingering, loss of innocence, curly is such a soft dom, uhh captain kink as well?

𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥

it was late on the tulapr, and you had been tossing and turning for what felt like a century. as you finally grow restless, you decide to sit in the lounge, and watch the nighttime screen. you exit your quarters quietly, brining a blanket with you just incase. as soon as you reach the area, you see blonde, messy curls. you approach quietly, and sit next to him. he turns and smiles at you, his arms moving to rest atop the couch.

“seems we had the same idea, hm?” he says as he smiles, skin crinkling around his blue eyes. “yeah, i’ve been struggling a lot.” i reply back to him, getting comfortable on the couch with the blanket over me. “i’ve been feeling the same way too. i’m not sure why. maybe the stress is finally getting to me.” he says, a bit more seriously than i’ve ever heard from him. i nod in agreement, and stare at the screen. after a few minutes, he speaks up again.

“you know, love, maybe i can help you get tired? i have a few tricks?” he says, the tone in his voice different, something i’ve never heard from him. “like what, captain?” i ask, intrigued as i turn to look at him, my head resting on my hand. he looks at me, eyebrow quirking up as he faces me too, his hand moving closer to my thigh. “well, love, we’ve been on this ship for maybe.. over 100 days? it gets tiring..” his voice trails off, and i immediately perk up, looking away as i curl up into myself, mentally blushing at what i assume he’s insinuating he’d like.

“i mean.. i guess i wouldn’t mind you helping me.. relax?” you whisper, smiling meekly as his smile widens. “that’s my girl..” he whispers, pulling you closer and onto his lap. he looks into your eyes and brushes a stray strand of hair from your face. “so so beautiful..” he whispers as he softly gropes your tits through your thin nightshirt. you stifle back a moan, your hands tangling in his dirty blonde curls as your body struggles to get used to these new sensations. he slowly strips me from the nightgown, leaving me exposed to his hungry eyes and cold air. he softly kisses me again, easing my nerves as i slowly start to relax against him.

“so beautiful.. can’t believe you kept this from me for so long..” i smile nervously as his fingers trail to the waistband of my panties, exposing my small patch of hair over my dripping pussy. i put my head in the crook of his neck, moaning softly into his pale skin. he rubs my clit softly, my panties becoming even more soaked before he pulls away. i mewl softly, but he silences me with a kiss. he places one finger into my cunt, slowly opening me up as he realizes i’m a virgin.

wait, a virgin? shit, curly’s gonna love this.

“shh, love. i promise i’ll try not to hurt you.” he whispers against my lips, and i not silently. he slowly pushes his single finger into and out of my sopping cunt. once i’m ready, he adds another finger. my moans and gasps become more frequent as he plunges his fingers into my cunt, his thick digits stretching me out so well. he brings his other hand to rub my clit, and i nearly lose it. i bite down his shoulder, trying hard to muffle my loud gasps as his breath hitches, my teeth nearly breaking skin. he continues fucking me with his fingers until i finally cum. my arms wrap around him tight, “sir, oh my god captain!” i groan out into his shoulder as my cunt squeezes around his fingers. he moans softly, pulling himself from my dripping pussy. he puts his two fingers up into his mouth, sucking me off of him. my breathing is ragged after i come down from my first orgasm, twitching due to his hard dick poking me through his pajama pants.

he puts my nightgown back on, and lifts me up. he brings me to his quarters, placing me softly on his bed. he lays down next to me, kissing my forehead and brings up the blanket over both of us.

shit i need to do that again.

#mouthwashing #mouthwashing x reader #captain curly #captain curly mouthwashing #captain curly x reader mouthwashing #mouthwashing smut #captain curly x reader #captain curly smut

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notcaycepollard · 1 day ago

Note

hey, I hope this is okay to ask since you’re now talking about stackie on here again.

do you have thoughts on what happened between them, like genuinely. do you think they were just friends with benefits, fell in love along the way and til this day these feelings are still there, or more? sometimes seb says these painfully sincere things about him that make it sound like he’s in love with him and sometimes he’s all snarky and says he hates him. without even too much tinhatting what do you think about them?

okay so I’m gonna lay out a range of Scenarios in decreasing likelihood/increasing tinhatting, on the agreement that we are all just foolin around thinking out some thoughts none of this is real and I do have a hold on my normal brain

1) the intense situational friendship

we’ve all been there. A workplace that puts you in constant intense contact with each other and destroys your ability to maintain normal external life while you’re in the middle of it (filming, press tour) and before you know it you’re trauma bonding over cigarettes in the back of the parking lot and swearing you’ll be bffs forever and nobody knows you like they know you

and then you quit or the film wraps or the junket is over and you make all this big noise about staying friends and catching up but inevitably your new reality begins to get in the way, plus after a year or two you can’t sustain catch ups that revolve around work gossip when you’re not in the middle of that shit anymore, and it’s not that either of you are deliberately fading out it’s just that friendships like that naturally ebb over time but u still got a soft spot for your guy your pal your best marvel bro

2) the intense situational friendship but you act a little gay about it

maybe you’re gay, maybe you’re not, some straight dudes are pretty fun about idle gay flirting for the bit, and platonic chemistry looks like flirtation from the outside anyway so you let everyone give you the side eye and keep sharing cigarettes in a way that’s a little bit too close for anyone to NOT wonder

3) the intense situational work-crush, one-sided

it’s the above but one of you is super gay about it for real not for the bit

and maybe you know or maybe you don’t, maybe the other guy knows or maybe HE don’t, as above some straight dudes will just flirt for the bit but anyway it’s more likely he doesn’t know it’s real for you or at least he’s gonna keep the facade up

so you say some weird stuff to and about each other and play it up for the interviews and it could pass for platonic chemistry but you gotta keep the yearning on lock or you wind up accidentally looking at your work friend like he’s the sun moon and stars and then you’re lying in bed that night like FUCK did I make it TOO weird

(if it was gonna be weird he wouldn’t be constantly telling you your hair is so great and touching it in a way that makes you shiver and want something you’re not ever gonna give shape to even inside your own head)

(like running his fingers through and taking hold at the nape of your neck and threatening idly to pull it for real not for jokes, and you do wonder just once before you can catch yourself, what would it be like if he followed up with a kiss or, like, setting his teeth in the side of your throat and biting down just a little)

usually it’s recoverable if you don’t admit to or talk about your feelings, it’ll pass when you’re not spending 16 hours a day in each other’s company but he’ll hug you years later at the golden globes and he’ll still smell so good and you WILL feel Something that sort of hurts but in a mostly good way

maybe years later you’ll have worked through it and gotten a secure-attachment real life boyfriend and you’ll idly refer to that big crush you had and it won’t feel like you’re choking on acid it’ll just be Haha Wow Remember That One Time When

4) the casual work friends-with-bennies

you’re both cool! you both like to kiss on the mouth and also suck a dick occasionally! you’re never gonna come out about it because it’s hollywood but it makes a film shoot a lot more fun when you can blow off some steam in your trailer

you can drop it at the end of filming and pick it back up when you get signed for a Disney plus show together and it’s fine, it’s chill, it’s a truly optimal outcome

5) the casual work friends-with-bennies but one of you caught feelings

oh bud. we’re in mess territory and you’re gonna get burned by it but you already know that and the best you can hope for is that once you’re not fucking the feelings will fade

in all honesty it’ll still burn you less than scenario 3 because an intense friendship like that takes you so much deeper into casual intimacy but on the other hand you DO know what his dick feels like halfway down your throat and let’s be real, the smart thing to do would be call it off but the sex is too good so you’re just waiting it out for the crash

and the crash is bad, obviously, you finish the press tour and go home and if you push down you can still feel the last bruise-bite but you’re back to texting once a month and hearing about each other through social media instead of in person

you’ll do it again though because you are a sucker for punishment and it’ll be just as good slash just as bad

6) the intense situational work friendship turned friends-with-bennies

[ralph wiggum voice] haha you’re in danger

and I want to tell you that you’re BOTH in danger but let’s be real, one of you is way more likely to get real feelings about it and once that happens it’s all over for you because while he’s going, yeah this is cool I like to suck a dick occasionally and I also like my good buddy so what a good combination, you’re drawing love hearts in the margins of your script and thinking about a romantic holiday to Romania

you will end filming and he will go “good game man let’s catch up next time we’re in the same city” and you will feel something catch in your heart

all I can say is that at least you entered into the fucking part of this on the basis of true friendship and the feelings didn’t arrive until after you were already fucking. it’s still not great. It’s bad. But at least there’s that.

7) intense situational work-crush (one-sided) turned friends-with-bennies

we are in the game over zone. you are not in danger you are surrounded on all sides by forest fire and there’s no way out. you have signed up for a prolonged broken heart and [radiohead voice] you did it to yourself

either you pretend forever that you did not have a crush before you started fucking and you don’t have a crush now, and you silently suffer through losing the brief joy of getting to kiss when filming ends (bad) or you admit to your feelings and your friend tells you with grace and sympathy that he does not feel the same way (worse) or you hide your feelings so poorly that you act like a total asshole and when you do eventually admit to it the entire edifice of friendship is torn down by the force of your repressed emotion (worst).

appendix: what if they both had feelings?

no I’m sorry I simply don’t think this is realistic I think AT MOST it was a love affair where one person liked the other quite a lot but the other was in it Too Deep and that was unsustainable long-term.

anyway, my only other contribution is that apparently sebstan’s current girlfriend previously dated chris pine. for four years. isn’t that interesting? chris pine, now that’s a man with some perplexingly undefinable energy. some would say, that man is a lesbian. just interesting to me that an aspiring model slash actress would date an extremely lesbian man for four years and then two months after breaking up would get together with ol sebastian, a man who was apparently spotted celebrating his 40th with said girlfriend and a passel of other pals including his long-time buddy chace crawford.

which could mean nothing, obviously. but it’s interesting. that’s all.

#stackie

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ltadoriyuujl · 1 day ago

Text

your orbit is the best place to be

☆ earth is large and space is infinite and yet you still can never be more than 2 degrees of separation from the boy made of stars that has held your heart in his hands forever.

☆ bakugou katsuki x reader, 7.2k words

☆ no cw, bkg gets jealous, mineta is there as the worlds sleaziest plot device

☆ a/n: wow my first official tumblr fic! a million thank yous to all the oomfs that kept me motivated enough to finish this. @teddybeartoji @ms0milk <3 you guys

“Man, it's been ages since we've been to a station. I don't know about you guys, but I'm so ready to get off the ship.”

“Tell me about it. I'm honestly starting to go a little crazy in here.”

“I'm definitely excited. A buddy of mine told me the, ahem, ‘working girls’ of Iltari-7 can suck the silver off a new cybernetic.”

“Fucking hell, Denki, what kind of degenerates do you hang out with and why are they giving you hooker recommendations?”

Boisterous laughter bounced off the chrome walls of the lounge as your face screwed up in disgust. Most of the crew of the Aldera were scattered around the room, reclining and relaxing in various positions. Kirishima Eijirou, first mate, copilot, and the one who had spoken first, was seated on a stool by the small bar, his muscular back resting against the table so he could face the room. Sero Hanta, the ship's mechanic and gunnery chief, sat cross-legged on the floor, the parts of some new passion project littered around him. And Kaminari Denki, one of the best software engineers this side of the galaxy and the current source of your ire, was sprawled on the old couch positioned directly across from your own chair.

“C'mon, cut me some slack, Doc. A guy can't get lonely?” Denki’s grin was large and unabashed, even as he tried to feign hurt. The corners of your own mouth started to quirk up.

“You say that like the rest of us are imaginary or something. I'm touched that you value our friendship so deeply, Denki,” you replied, your tone dry despite the amusement on your face.

“Love you too, but friendship doesn't get me-”

“And that is my cue to leave.” You swung your legs down from their perch on the center table, a second round of laughter ringing out as you stood. “I'm going to talk to our esteemed captain, see if I can negotiate an extra day in port.”

Kirishima snorted as you passed him on your way to the door. “Good luck. Cap says 3 days, so really we're looking at 2 and a half. But hey, if anyone could get him to budge it's you, Doc.”

Solidly ignoring the implications of that statement, you pulled open the lounge door, stepped out into the hallway, and slid the door home again with extreme prejudice. The howls of your crewmates were audible from behind the thick steel as your legs began to carry you towards the bridge.

Bakugou Katsuki, captain of the Aldera, was something of an enigma to the larger spacefaring community. Only a handful of people even knew his full name, half of them being the ship's crew and the other half either on Earth or scattered through the far reaches of space. To most, he was the fearsome Dynamight, scourge of the endless night, the man who haunted the nightmares of hardened Federation admirals. The reward for his head was large enough to buy a small moon. He wasn't just a space pirate, he was the space pirate.

He also set the ship's day/night simulation settings to the Tokyo timezone so he could get 8 hours of sleep no matter where he was in the galaxy. He didn't drink, didn't smoke, and his only vice was the adrenaline of a fire fight. You'd been there when his arms were almost blown off, and kept him alive long enough to get them replaced by top of the line implants with veins that carried lighter fluid instead of blood. He'd knocked out one of your front teeth when you were 6 and he was 7, and there was a very faint scar on his left shoulder because you bit him immediately after. When he'd shown up to your dorm in the middle of the night, freshly defected with nothing to his name but a stolen ship and a handful of flight school buddies and asked you to come with him to the stars, you'd been gone before your RA was even awake enough to investigate the racket.

Lost in recollection, you almost ran face-first into the bridge door, catching yourself just in time to avoid being laid out by an inanimate object. Katsuki's first order of business as an outlaw was calling in a couple favors from some below-board mechanics and getting the whole ship remade into the specimen it was today. The Aldera, formerly the S.S. Yuuei, was refitted with brand new guns, shields, and stealth tech. Your captain also had the onboard AI stripped to barely more than glorified autopilot and, despite Denki's grumbles about the boredom of his post, the decision wasn't without merit. It disabled the Federation failsafe of remotely hijacking a vessel through its operating system, but while it was no doubt a great safety measure that had allowed you all to evade capture more times than you could count, even 5 years on the run wasn't enough to erase a lifetime of being used to automatic comforts and there was surely more security footage of you smacking into doors than you'd like.

You're forced to squint as you step into the navigation room, the sunny “high noon” lighting at stark odds with the inky blackness outside the plexiglass window that dominated the room. Katsuki's form was visible in the captain's chair, right where you suspected he'd be. Vermillion eyes darted to yours as you moved to stand next to him, and with a small huff he dismissed the holopad he was reading and turned his full attention to you.

“Doc.” Your title rolled off his tongue and fell at your feet, almost slimy with sarcasm. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Hello to you too, Captain. I'm great, thanks for asking. I love that our first conversation of the day is starting off on such a good note.” Your tone was sickening in its faux sweetness, and the snort you received in return made you roll your eyes good-naturedly.

“We've known each other way too long to bother with idiotic small talk.”

“Yeah, but you should be nice to the person who keeps you and your crew in fighting shape.”

“That person is me, and I've told you how I feel about your wellness tips.”

You flipped him off, though the grin on your face matched his. Talking with him was always easy.

“Seriously though, did you need something?” Katsuki asked, his hands flitting over the ship's console as he minutely adjusted the course. “We should be docking within the next 4 hours.”

You let out a hum of acknowledgement, your gaze turning to the multitude of stars twinkling outside. “I told the guys I was going to ask you about getting another day in port, but really I just needed to get out of the conversation. Denki was starting to talk about station whores and that is not a topic I have the energy for right now.”

Katsuki made a disgusted noise. “If that dumbass catches anything I'm venting him out of the airlock.”

“It honestly might be the best course of action. You abducted me before we got to the ‘alien STI’ section of the curriculum.” You had to bite your lip to stop yourself from doubling over in laughter as he groaned. The glare he fixed you with was venomous, but it'd been a long time since his irritation could get under your skin.

“If I recall correctly, and I'm pretty fucking sure I do, you basically tripped over yourself to come with me. You had a bag packed and everything!”

“It was my overnight bag. Who knew midnight hookups and spontaneously going off-world required such similar supplies?”

A shadow passed over Katsuki's face, his features clouded by an expression that you almost recognized, but it was gone as quickly as it came. He huffed and started to fidget with the controls again, obviously trying to occupy his hands.

“Whatever, you were still embarrassingly eager. All ‘Oh ‘Suki, I'd follow you anywhere’.” The pitch of his voice rose mockingly and you gasped in indignation. If he wanted to go low, you'd take it to hell.

Bracing one hand on the back of his chair and the other on the armrest, you leaned as far into his space as you were able without falling into his lap. Katsuki fixed you with a hard stare but, bullheaded man that he was, refused to give any ground. Your faces were inches apart, and you could hear him dragging in each breath with purpose, desperate not to let his pulse quicken in your presence.

“Since your memory is apparently so good, Captain,” your voice was low, bordering on sultry, “remind me, which one of us begged? What was it you said… ‘I don't want to do any of this without you?’ At 3 in the morning no less. If we're going to talk about eagerness and desperation, let's start there.”

Your faces were still close, closer than they really had any right to be. Red began to color Katsuki's ears and cheeks, but his mouth was set in a grim, determined line. You two stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, unstoppable force and immovable object. Finally, your captain scowled and turned his head away from you, breaking the deadlock. You bit back a whoop of joy at your victory in whatever odd dominance play you two had been engaged in, settling instead for a satisfied smirk as you straightened up again.

“Doesn’t matter who said what anyway,” he muttered under his breath, and you could almost see the wounded animal that was his pride settling hard in his chest. “We’re both here, aren’t we? Five years and you haven’t jumped ship yet.”

Your expression softened, and you reached out to place a hand on his shoulder. “You’re never, ever getting rid of me, I can promise you that. We’re stuck with each other, ‘Suki.” You felt the tension leak out of his frame and something like longing mixed with affection and took root in your lungs. For all the ways he was different, more grown-up and mature, he was also still the boy that drew his own star maps, the one that sat with you on the roof of his house and taught you how to recognize each constellation until you could point them out blindfolded.

His eyes were on you again and you withdrew your hand, suddenly conscious of the change in atmosphere. Clearing your throat, you took an awkward step back and turned halfway towards the door in an attempt to escape before you said anything you'd regret. “I'm going to double-check the supplies in medical. Make sure my shopping list is complete and all that. I’ll, uh, catch you later, Captain.” Your retreat was hasty, despite your best efforts at keeping calm, and you only allowed yourself to breathe once the cockpit door was shut behind you.

“Ah, good old station air!”

The Aldera was nestled comfortably into a dock in the Iltari-7 ship port, a small swarm of mechanics already seeing to any necessary repairs. You'd all wasted no time disembarking and Denki looked about ready to kiss the dubiously clean ground.

“You know, it's weird how every single port manages to smell like the same combination of recycled oxygen, burnt fuel, and piss,” you remarked, stretching your arms languidly above your head. “It’s almost comforting at this point.” The men around you let out various noises of agreement before delving into a conversation about whether or not the smell was natural or purposely manufactured.

You tuned them out, your eyes glued instead to the distant form of your captain barking instructions at some poor dock aide. You couldn't quite make out the words but you’d be willing to bet it was something about making sure there wasn't a paint chip out of place when he got back. He was clad in his favorite faded leather vest (originally from his days in the Federation Academy, it was now so covered with studs and patches it was barely recognizable as Federation property) and a fitted black shirt and pants combo that showed off his figure in a way that was deeply detrimental to your sanity.

Eventually he finished scaring the piss out of the innocent and stomped over to where your merry band was waiting. He reached into the satchel resting on his hip and dug out 4 cards.

“The keys to our hotel rooms,” he said as he shared them out. “You lose it, I’ll kick your ass and take the money to replace it out of your next paycheck.”

Kirishima whistled as he turned the small piece of plastic in his hands. “Damn boss, what kind of place did you find that still uses physical keys?”

“The kind of place that doesn’t ask about shit like existing criminal records.” You glanced down at your own key card before slipping into the small satchel you kept hidden under your coat. The mild inconvenience of having to worry about a physical object was a small price to pay for peace of mind, especially considering how during a pit stop last year you’d all woken up in the middle of the night to Federation officers in the lobby of the inn you were staying at. Personally, you weren’t eager to experience another mad dash to the hanger in nothing but your nightdress.

Katsuki rolled his neck, a series of pops sounding out as he did. “Alright, housekeeping. We’re here for 72 hours, no more than that. I don’t give a shit what you do with that time as long as you don’t get sick and don’t get arrested. If I call you to check in and you don’t pick up, I’ll hunt you down and you won’t like what happens when I find you. Any questions? No? Great, scatter.”

Sero and Kaminari didn’t need to be told twice, the two of them practically bolting down the street. Kirishima gave an exaggerated salute before heading off as well. You were just about to start making your way to the nearest depot when a large, familiar hand enveloped your elbow. You looked back and cocked a quizzical eyebrow at your captain. “Not you, Doc. You’re coming with me.” You scoffed and tugged your arm out of his grip.

“I have actual plans, you know. Since when do you have business where my presence is necessary?” The look on his face did little to inspire any measure of confidence in you.

“Word on the net says the guy who's offering to fence our haul has delusions of chivalry, or some shit like that. Apparently he doesn't scam chicks, so if you're at the meeting with me we might actually get a better deal.”

You blinked once, twice, brain desperately trying to interpret the words that had come out of his mouth in a way that didn't make you want to beat him over the head. “You want me,” you began, the words rolling slowly out of your mouth, “to be your date…to a haul negotiation.”

“Date is a strong word.” The blonde man didn't look nearly bashful or penitent enough for the request he was making, and you felt a muscle twitch in your jaw. “You'd just be there to help smooth things out.”

“Ah, so you want me to be eye candy. That's such an improvement.”

“I'll buy everything on your shopping list.”

“My shopping list is full of medical supplies. For the ship. That we all fucking use.”

“That new headset you've been itching for, then. With the fancy AI and diagnostic capabilities.”

“The one you said was unreasonably expensive?”

“I won't even bitch about it.”

You crossed your arms and looked away from him, a scowl painted on your features. On one hand, the request was demeaning and just subtly misogynistic enough to really get under your skin. On the other hand, more money was always a good thing, and you were honestly a little curious to meet a man with such an interesting set of principles.

Plus, you really wanted that headset.

“You also owe me a favor that I can cash in at any time.” You fixed Katsuki with your best “dead serious” glare. He threw his hands up in surrender, but his grin could only be described as shit-eating.

“You drive a hard bargain, but we have a deal. Now come on, let’s see how fast we can get this over with.”

Whatever you'd expected the mysterious fence to look like, it wasn't anywhere near the reality. The man on the other side of the counter was short, so short he needed a step stool to make eye contact with you. The rest of him looked honestly pretty human, no extra limbs, digits, or facial features. The most bizarre thing about his appearance was the texture of his hair (or whatever it was that was on his head), which resembled large squishy purple balls.

“Well, well, look who it is!” His voice echoed through the space, briefly covering the noises of the small gadgets and trinkets littered around the “pawn shop”. “Dynamight, can I just say what an honor it is to have you in my establishment? I mean, you're something of a legend to us guys on the, ahem, other side of the law.”

Katsuki grunted in response, his nose twitching like he was trying his damndest not to wrinkle it in distaste. The other man either didn't notice or didn't care, his attention switching immediately to you.

“And what fine company you've brought as well!” He was still addressing “Dynamight”, but his smile was directed entirely at you. “It's a pleasure to meet you, miss. I'm Mineta, the owner of this here establishment and a professional…well I like to refer to myself as a ‘procurement specialist’ in polite company.”

“You hear that, ‘Suki? We're polite company.” You couldn't keep the smirk out of your voice as you responded. “Is ‘smuggler’ too dirty a word for you, Mineta?”

To his credit, the small salesman didn't rise to your barb, his customer service smile still fixed to his face. “Well no, but it doesn't exactly look great on a business card, does it?”

You chuckled airily. “Fair enough.”

Your captain, apparently fed up with the back and forth banter, leaned on the countertop with an unimpressed expression. “Are you two going to yap all day or can we talk business?” The words seemed to snap Mineta out of his casual demeanor and into work mode, and he zeroed back in on the outlaw before him.

“Of course, of course.” He reached under the counter and pulled out a holopad, setting it between all 3 of you. The shopkeep pressed some buttons and a number was projected into the air. “20,000 credits” read the hologram, for sure not an amount to scoff at, but one look in Katsuki's direction showed he was less than enthused.

“Is this some kind of joke?” The blonde's voice wasn't quite a snarl, but definitely close. “I sent you a scanned content list and you decided 20k was a decent number for a haul that good?”

Mineta frowned, but his tone was still calm as he replied. “Well, this is a negotiation. If you think I'm lowballing, you're welcome to put out an offer.”

“50.” Your eyes almost bulged out of your head at the number he spat out. The cargo was valuable for sure, but not 50 thousand fucking credits worth, and Katsuki of all people should know that. Then, his eyes met yours, and your role in this particular dance finally clicked into place in your mind.

You pressed against the counter, arms folded over your ribcage to subtly push your chest up. You gave the blonde your best chastising look and pout combo, setting the stage for your performance. “‘Suki, come on. Aren't you being a little unreasonable?” You paused to shoot Mineta a warm smile. “Ignore him, he's woken up on the wrong side of the bed every day for 5 years.”

Mineta's expression instantly brightened, and you didn't miss the way his eyes darted to your tits and lingered there. Hook, line, and sinker. “I understand,” he began, slightly lifting his heels off the stepstool to lean closer to you. It took all your composure and professionalism not to move away. “It's a grueling line of work you two are in. That said, you seem to bear it with nothing short of the utmost beauty and grace, miss.” Someone was laying it on thick. You forced yourself to giggle and hoped it came out halfway believable.

Katsuki grimaced at the exchange and moved closer to you, but you paid him no mind. Your eyes were fixed on the prize, now. “How about we try again, hm? I do think 50 is a bit much, so maybe we can try 40?” In truth, you didn't believe the items you brought to the table were worth a dime more than 25k, but if batting your eyelashes and playing ditzy lined your pockets with a little something extra then you were going to milk this, goddammit.

Mineta still looked unsure, but was obviously more receptive to the high offer than before. “Well, considering it comes with the Dynamight name attached to it, I suppose it is worth a little more, yes. I'd have no trouble reselling…can we compromise at 35?” A good number. A great number, in fact, but you wanted to see how far you could push.

“37, final offer. We worked awfully hard to keep this raid quiet, you know. The feds don't even know about it, which means they won't be on lookout for the stuff. Don't you think we deserve a little extra for making your job easier?” You kept your tone light and playful, going so far as to reach out and run your index finger under Mineta's chin, tilting his head up slightly to meet your gaze. A full body shudder passed through the man, and again you suppressed the desire to recoil.

“I think,” the salesman's tongue darted out to wet his lips. “I think that's fair.” You retracted your finger as Mineta began to fiddle with the holopad again, the 20 swiftly replaced with a 37.

You beamed as you retreated from the counter, allowing Katsuki to occupy your spot and handle the specifics of closing out the deal. The smile on your face was the peak of self-satisfaction, and it only grew when you heard the telltale chime of a money transfer. As you made your way out of the shop, you sent a silent prayer of thanks to whichever god was responsible for handing out perfect racks. You also shot a small kudos to the patron saint of sleazy idiots, for good measure.

As soon as you were both definitely out of hearing range you whirled on Katsuki in delight, but your expression faltered when you caught sight of the storm brewing in his features. He looked irritated, on the edge of downright pissed off, and it effectively dampened your own mood. Tugging on his arm, you steered him into a nearby alleyway in an effort to avoid prying eyes and ears.

“What's up with you?” you asked once you were sure there'd be no unwelcome intrusions to the conversation. “I thought the deal went great.”

He scowled and crossed his arms as he leaned against the rough synthetic brick of the alleway. His face was casted down, very pointedly not looking at you. “‘m not pissed off about the deal,” he mumbled, and your confusion only grew.

“Then why are you pissed off?”

Your captain scoffed. “Maybe because that bastard looked like he wanted to fucking eat you,” he ground out through gritted teeth.

For the second time today, you contemplated strangling him. You raised a hand and pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to gather your patience. “I thought the whole point was that my job was to be arm décor. Was the end goal not to get him to think with his dick and not his head? I mean, you brought me as a sex object and now you're mad that the guy wanted to have sex with me!”

“I know what the fucking objective was, I just-” His mouth snapped shut, but the look in his eyes and the set of his jaw told you everything you needed to know. He looked the same as he did earlier when you mentioned your past hookups, the same as he always did when he caught you in the hallways of wherever the crew was crashing at, waving goodbye to whoever had warmed your bed the night before. Same dark eyes, same twisted up mouth, same neck twitch. You'd assumed before that he was just being protective, but the truth was glaring in your face brighter than any neon sign.

Bakugou Katsuki was jealous and you were pissed the hell off.

“How long?” you demanded. His expression morphed from petulant to confused as he looked at you.

“What?”

“How long have you had feelings for me?” You willed your voice not to crack, though the equal parts anger and yearning that bubbled to the front of the emotional storm brewing in your chest made it a herculean task. This wasn't fair. He didn't get to do this to you, not 5 years in, not when you'd finally made your peace and were on your way to killing the pesky adoration you'd spent far too long grappling with.

“I- That's not what this is about-”

“Don't even try to pull that shit. This is my favor, I'm cashing it in right now. Tell me the truth, how long?”

You stared at him. He stared back. The alleyway was silent except for the low whirring of the machinery under Katsuki’s skin. The foot of distance between you felt impossibly charged and volatile, like one false move would trigger a city-leveling explosion. Just as your eyes started to burn from strain and the pressure of the tears behind your eyes, Katsuki ducked his head again, breaking the stalemate. Normally, winning two battles of will against him in the same day would inflate your ego to unmanageable heights, but the moment was too bittersweet to fully appreciate your victory.

“I don't know.”

“That's not an answer.”

“It's the truth.” Crimson eyes met yours, and the naked vulnerability in them almost took your breath away. “I don't remember how long I've wanted you. Feels like forever.”

Your knees felt weak and your mouth was dry and every night you spent staring at the cold chrome ceiling of your ship quarters with longing and want ripping through you came rushing back in cold clarity. The storm in your chest broke, and the roiling waves of emotion threatened to choke you. You needed air, and space, and maybe to slap him then kiss him stupid.

“Right.” The word felt foreign, almost wrong, on your tongue. It wasn't what you wanted to say, but it was all your traitorous vocal cords would allow you. Katsuki's brow furrowed and his lips parted, and you were far too emotionally fragile to hear whatever he was about to say.

Beating him to the punch, you blurted out, “I’ll see you back at the hotel,” before spinning on your heel and striding out of the alley as quickly as your legs would carry you. Half expecting him to follow you or call you back, you were filled with both relief and disappointment when he made no move to go after you. His gaze burned against the back of your skull until you disappeared around the nearest corner.

It was well past sunset (or “whatever star this trash heap orbits”-set) when you finally made your way to the hotel. The building itself was nondescript, the paint on the outside was faded, and it was altogether generally unimpressive. Only the flickering sign that matched the stamp on your keycard signified it as the place you were looking for. At least the inside was free of any foul scents or mysterious stains, which automatically put it above at least half of your past accommodations.

You trudged up the steps to the second floor and prayed on all that was kind and good that this place had hot running water. You'd calmed down significantly since you'd ditched your captain, but a hot shower would give you the chance to sort out the last stubborn remnants of your emotional turmoil. You turned the corner into your hallway and were wholly unsurprised to see the last person you wanted to acknowledge standing right next to your door.

Katsuki had dressed down since you'd last seen him. His worn leather vest and fitted shirt were gone, leaving him in only a white undershirt that was definitely a size too small. Desire flared in your gut, unwelcome, and you forced yourself to suppress a groan. Clearly he had no intentions of making the conversation you two needed to have easy for you.

His head snapped in your direction as you approached, and your heart clenched at the flash of uncertainty that ran across his face before he managed to school it back into careful neutrality. You stopped in front of your door, placing a hand on the handle as you turned to look at him.

“We should talk.” His voice was low, gentle, like he was scared you'd run again if he disturbed the air too much.

“Is that an order, Captain?” you asked in response, fluidly inserting your keycard into its slot until the light on the door turned green. Pushing it open, you looked back over your shoulder, one eyebrow arched. Katsuki’s jaw clenched as he visibly swallowed.

“No. It's not an order.” You hummed and jerked your head towards the inside of the room, signaling for him to follow, before pushing the door open wider and stepping in.

Flicking on the light, you surveyed the space. It was decently furnished, with a large couch taking up the opposite wall and a loveseat slightly adjacent to it, a hard light projection of a coffee table the centerpiece of the room. There was a small but seemingly functional kitchenette off to the side, and a door set into the wall on your right that you assumed led to the bedroom.

You moved towards the small table in the kitchen, shucking off your coat and draping it on the back of one of the two dining chairs present. Your satchel followed, tossed carelessly onto the table as you strode towards the couch. The color was likely a rich navy blue once, but time and wear had turned it much lighter in places. It was comfortable, at the very least, and you sprawled over it, head resting on one armrest while your legs were tossed over the other side.

The man you'd known almost all your life slumped into the loveseat, his arm inches from your head. You shifted to be able to see him properly. He was sweating bullets with the harsh blue glow of the coffee table illuminating half his face from below. One of his best looks, in your humble opinion.

He inhaled, long and deep, before exhaling just as thoroughly. He opened his mouth, glanced at you, glanced away, and closed it again. It struck you that while you were aware of both his feelings and your own, you'd never actually expressed to him that you reciprocated his affection. Come to think of it, fleeing the second he confessed probably hadn't done his confidence any favors. You winced slightly as guilt squeezed your insides, and reached out to drop a (hopefully) comforting hand on his knee. His eyes snapped to the appendage, and his gaze crawled up your arm until he finally managed to settle on your face. You tried your best to project encouragement, and he drew in another deep breath.

“10 years.” You blinked, your features suddenly clouded with confusion.

“What?”

Katsuki huffed like you were the one being difficult and adjusted his posture, leaning over the arm of his seat to be closer to you.

��You asked me how long I've had feelings for you, so I did some soul-searching or whatever the fuck and decided 10 years was the answer. Ever since you showed up to my house on my 16th birthday, clutching that crystal telescope lens that I'd been eyeing for ages. I asked you how the hell you afforded something like that, and you told me you'd saved 4 months’ worth of allowance plus walked every dog in the neighborhood 5 times over. You had this big goofy grin on your face like you hadn't dropped a crazy amount of money just so I could have a clearer view of the same star systems I'd already memorized.” He paused, working his jaw as he contemplated whether or not to continue. A squeeze from the hand on his knee seemed to thoroughly convince him.

“I honestly almost told you to take it back, to return it and get your money back and use it on literally anything else. But you were just…you were so fucking happy about it, going on and on about how I'd finally be able to personally count Jupiter's moons or something like that. I didn't have it in me to reject it, I mean, it was literally the nicest thing anyone ever did for me up to that point. And when we finally got the chance to slip up to the roof and slot the new lens in…the sights were beautiful. Better than I'd imagined, better than the ads. Your shoulder jostled mine when you went in for a look and it was like I'd eaten a whole swarm of butterflies. It was the first time I'd ever felt like that around you, around anyone really. I guess that's when I knew.”

10 years. You're not quite sure how you expected him to answer, but what you got was certainly more than you anticipated. Every interaction between the two of you in the last decade flitted through your mind, colored by this new information, and your chest tightened almost painfully.

“Wow,” was all you managed to say when you finally opened your mouth. His whole body tensed, and you blurted out your next words before he could get too deep in his head. “Do you want to know when I came to terms with my feelings?”

He inhaled sharply, his eyes boring into you like twin suns. “Your feelings?” His voice was almost a whisper, and you offered him a gentle smile.

“What, you think you have a monopoly on pining?” He huffed out a laugh as you repositioned yourself, pushing upright and shifting until you were leaning over your own armrest, putting the two of you eye to eye.

“When we were 17, and I was sitting with you in the nurse's office at school and watching you get your knuckles wrapped because Enzo-”

Katsuki's groan was loud, cutting you off mid-sentence. You snickered, amused that the mention of your first boyfriend was still enough to get him riled up.

“Can I continue, or do you still have curses to pile on him almost a decade later?”

“I definitely do, but you can keep going as long as you don't say that idiot's name.”

“Well, what do you want me to refer to him as?”

“Preferably ‘that worthless bastard’ but you can get creative with it if you want.” You rolled your eyes, but you were fighting a losing battle trying to keep a smile off your face.

“Fine, whatever, moving on. You were getting your fists taken care of because you'd fucked them up in the process of beating my ex's face to a pulp.” Katsuki tsked in annoyance at your word choice but you forged on. “On account of him cheating on me with one of the student trainers.”

“And I'd do it again too.”

“Am I ever going to get to finish my story?”

“Sorry.” The man across from you at least had the good sense to look sheepish at your scolding tone. You shook your head in exaggerated exasperation.

“Like I was saying, you, me, school clinic, split knuckles. The nurse was ripping you a new one while she bandaged you up, and all I could do was sit there and replay the moment in my head. The way we ran into that prick at lunch and I immediately got choked up and hurt all over again. The expression on your face when you looked at me. Next thing I knew there were like 3 people pulling you off him, and he was a sort of groaning person-shaped heap.” Slowly, as if handling something wild, you moved your hand to settle on top of his. Your thumb brushed gently over the long-healed skin and his breath hitched as a faint shiver ran through him.

“Even when they threatened you with expulsion, you never looked regretful or remorseful. As far as you knew, the end of your space pilot dream was staring you in the face and you didn't so much as flinch. One look at me and you'd been ready to throw it all away. That's when my crush kicked into full gear, and saying it all out loud is making me feel kinda stupid for not realizing how you felt about me sooner.”

You chuckled, but the sound turned into a soft gasp as Katsuki flipped his hand up to grip yours, the hold firm but not painful. Your eyes moved from where your palms were connected to his face, and the intensity you found there made your heart beat faster.

“You wanna know when I knew I loved you?”

For a brief, beautiful moment, every mechanism in the universe ground to a screeching halt. The stars stopped burning, the planets stopped spinning, your breath caught in your throat and your heart paused mid-beat. His words rung in your ears like church bells, deafening in glorious cacophony. Even after the natural order resumed, you still felt nailed to your seat. You nodded mutely, not trusting your voice to be steady enough not to shatter the moment.

“When I woke up,” he began, his grip on your hand tightening marginally, “in that shady implant center, brain fried from hours of pain and being in and out of consciousness. Everything hurt like hell, and my new arms felt heavy and weird. Then I turned my head to look at the ceiling, and there you were. Your eyebags had eyebags, your hair was a mess, and you had a nasty bruise peeking out from under your collar where a laser blast had hit the protective mesh in your coat. Despite all that, you were beaming like you'd won the lottery. Plus you were directly under one of those old-fashioned fluorescent bulbs and it was casting a flickering halo around your head. I swear I thought you were an angel. Sometimes I still do.”

You made a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh as you blinked back the tears gathering at your waterline. Unthinking, you stood from your seat and moved to stand in front of Katsuki. Your hands were still intertwined and he used that connection to tug you forward, his other hand moving to settle on your back as you fell gently into his lap, your knees on either side of his thighs.

“Never took you for a sap, ‘Suki.” Your unoccupied hand drifted to play with the baby hairs at the nape of his neck and you laughed softly at his exaggerated eye roll. You liked this version of him, the type that existed for your eyes only, bathed in artificial light yet deeply human.

“Yeah, whatever.” His hand on your back was big and warm, and you felt almost embarrassed by how much it affected you. The synthetic nerve endings in his arms were bad at detecting heat, a necessary failsafe to facilitate his explosions, but now all you could think about was if he could feel the warmth of you through your shirt.

“You know, it’s sorta funny.” Katsuki’s head tilted slightly, his eyes fixated on you. The center of his attention was both a wonderful and slightly terrifying place to be. “You liked me first but I loved you first.”

“That so?” he asked, a smirk curling his lips as the palm at your back slipped under your shirt to trace patterns over your spine. The feeling of his digits dancing over your bare skin almost robbed you of rational thought entirely, but you pushed through.

“Call me cliché, but the night you showed up to my dorm and begged me to run away with you was so romantic from my point of view. It’s a miracle I didn’t swoon into your arms like one of those fainting damsels in a shitty romance novel.”

“There you go again, saying I begged. I asked politely.”

“Call it whatever you want, starboy, you were the one who made an objectively unnecessary detour while you were an active fugitive just to fulfill a promise you made when we were kids.” Your expression was as smug as humanly possible, but he seemed wholly unphased. You weren’t sure when in the course of the conversation his attitude had pivoted from nervous wreck to playboy.

“I promised we’d see the galaxy together, and we have. I’m a man of my word.” It was your turn to roll your eyes in an exaggerated arc, tugging lightly on his hair in reproach.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe I didn’t clock you earlier. Denial is truly a hell of a drug. You want me so bad it makes you look stupid.”

Katsuki scoffed and pushed you even further into him, eliminating almost all space between your bodies. “Don’t throw stones from glass houses, Doc.”

You huffed and pulled your hand away from his at last, both palms moving to cradle his face. His newly free hand immediately took up a position at your waist, mirroring its twin. “Say my name.”

The first syllable managed to slip past his lips before you crashed into him.

You poured almost half a lifetime of longing into the kiss, and your other half responded in kind. It was deep, desperate, and more than a little messy. His lips molded over yours like they belonged there, like the very notion of parting from you was absurd. Your fingers curled over his jaw and left small crescent indents on his cheeks as his tongue poked at the seam of your mouth, a request that was eagerly granted. His hands tightened on your sides and you were grateful for the sensation, for something to ground you as you dived into him over and over.

When you finally parted, lungs strained and panting, you were sure there were stars in your eyes. He pressed his forehead against yours, unwilling to let you pull away too much, and you happily obliged him. The two of you spent a minute simply trading breaths, the world outside your intimate bubble entirely unimportant. You turned your head to press a kiss to his cheek, chaste and almost shy. You could feel the muscles in his face moving as he smiled.

“...so about that headset-” He sealed his lips over yours again, and you’d never been happier to shut up in your life.

#bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #mha x reader #bkg x reader #daisy writes!#a very warm thank you to @/cafekitsune for the divider!#bakugou katuski x reader

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