#bakugou/reader

[dashielldeveron]

soulmate trope | bakugou

Bakugou’s route of soulmate trope.

His chapter follows the most standard soulmate rules, so that's why he's first. From here on out, it gets more unhinged.

Warnings: lots of talkin’ ‘bout dicks.

~6k words. Female reader.

Of course you weren’t going to share your soulmate identification with anyone else. It’s right next to your vagina, where your thigh meets your labia. You wouldn’t’ve noticed it yourself if you hadn’t been contorting yourself in the dorm shower stall to shave.

 You saw the mark and panicked, going for the mundane instead of the supernatural—what if you had a cancerous mole? But it was way too large for that; you probably would’ve noticed it sooner, if it were a mole, and besides, it was very clearly…shaped.

 So, it wasn’t a name or any words but a shape. Some symbol. Hunched over in the steam of the bathroom, you couldn’t fucking tell what it was supposed to be. It occurred to you once you got back to your dorm room that you might be looking at it from the wrong perspective and that the dark shape might be discernible if it were, like, upside-down.

 One horrible mirror-camera-flashlight session later, you think you got the right angle.  After deleting all of the mistakes and putting the correct one in a hidden file on your phone, you lay in bed, holding your phone above your face and squinting into its light.

 This was dumb. This was so dumb.

 Because it was either 1) an emanata, a.k.a. those bubbled sound effects in comics such as bam or pow, but the mark was small, spiky (like a punch sound effect?), and solid black. Or it was 2) a very prickly flame.

 Both options were, uh. Not ideal.

 If it were a comic book emanata, then your first thought would be that guy from 3-B with the onomatopoeia quirk, Manga Fukidashi. He was already matched, though. It also vaguely reminded you of Tetsutetsu’s mask, but that was a stretch.

 If it were fire, well. That left Bakugou and Todoroki, both of whom without soulmates accounted for.

 If either of them is your soulmate, would he have the same symbol? Would it be in the same place on his body? You couldn’t exactly go up to Bakugou or Todoroki to say, “Hey, any cancerous-looking blotches appear near your cock lately?” God.

 And what if you didn’t have all of the details? What if there were more to the soulmate mark than just a tattoo? Can he tell when you’re thinking about him? Can he read your mind?

 Well, you grumbled to yourself, plopping back inside your desk for your next class, you couldn’t read anyone’s mind, so if he could, it’s majorly unfair. You slumped in your seat, leaning lazily on your elbow, and scanned the classroom for both of them.

 Todoroki already sat at the back of the class, copying something out of a book quietly. He might very well be your soulmate, because whoever hasn’t claimed him yet is an idiot. Todoroki’s a catch—kind, observant, dead clever, extremely talented, not to mention the tiniest bit socially dense—all very nice, non-threatening things in a man, or at least in Todoroki.

 The thing, though, is that he wore his uniform correctly, down to the number of buttons buttoned up his shirt. No excess skin was showing, so if he shared a mark, it, too, was somewhere he didn’t display for the general public. Promising, but it still didn’t mean much, especially since his hero costume covered up the same areas.

 Cringing, you got out your notebook for class. Yes, it’d be effective to ask him to take off various articles of clothing, but you can’t fucking do that. And in the far-flung situation where you get Todoroki to play strip poker, you’d probably lose.

 Startled, you knocked your pencil case off your desk when the classroom door slammed open, the quiet of the classroom shattered by the Bakusquad barging in. Over Bakugou’s bitching about the sparring matches before lunch, Kirishima and Sero were trying to calm him down, Mina and Kaminari talking loudly behind them about what they were doing after class this afternoon.

 Bakugou shoved off his friends with a growl and slid into his desk, his legs spread out in front of him with dirt flecking off his shoes. “Just fuckin’ shut up; I had it. It’s no use telling me what damn special move Ida was trying to pull. If he hadn’t caught me like that, I would’ve scorched him.” He ran a hand through his hair, shaking soot from it lightly.

 Sero held up his hand. “You’ve got to admit that it was a really good move to—”

 “Stop talkin’ to me,” said Bakugou, digging through his backpack, “I won’t be able to concentrate if you keep running your trap.”

 “Fine, fine.”

 Pros of Bakugou being your soulmate:

 1)    You’d get to be close with an astonishingly complicated and closed-off person, who was intriguing in his own way, clever when he needed to be, driven, determined to do a thing correctly, and, moreover, capable of nearly anything he set his mind to.

2)    Pretty boy. Prettyyyyyy

 Cons:

 1)    He’s mean even to his friends. You understood playful teasing, but Bakugou went a bit too far. You don’t need that kind of negativity in your life.

2)    He’d always be too honest with you and hurt your feelings.

3)    He didn’t want a soulmate. He’d said that a soulmate would hold him back, that he’d prefer not to have one. Which means he’d reject you.

 But really, you considered as you zoned out for the lesson, would you be holding him back, like he’d said? True, your quirk wasn’t as powerful as his, but that didn’t mean that it was worthless. In fact, you considered your quirk pretty damn useful, but you could see how someone like Bakugou could think you’re weak.

 If Bakugou didn’t want a soulmate, then he didn’t want a soulmate. But that didn’t stop you from wanting one.

 So, it’s simple: you find out what kind of soulmate identifier Bakugou has, toss him once you discover he’s not, and then you move on to Todoroki.

 ***

 “Hey, can I see your cock for non-sexual purposes? It may turn into sexual purposes, but I assure you, the initial look would be purely out of curiosity.” You cracked, smiling wearily at your reflection. More bullshit things you can’t just say to Bakugou. You couldn’t even say it with a straight face.

 The more you’ve seen your classmates match up, the more parallels there have been with soulmate identifiers. If Bakugou’s got your mark, it’s totally near his cock.

 Not that you don’t want to see it, because while Bakugou was a whiny little bitch, he’s also excessively, annoyingly handsome, now that you thought about it. You weren’t stupid; you’d noticed his perfect skin (guaranteed because of his quirk), sharp eyes, and nice tits, but now that there was the possibility of you having access to him, his appearance was growing on you.

 The sound of an explosion shook the glass. “Try that again, and I’ll fuckin’ kill you!”

 His personality still left a lot to be desired.

 In a stroke of luck (but rather just partner rotation), you were assigned that day in hero training to spar with him. You hyped yourself up in the girls’ locker room, not bothering to participate in the gossip but instead planning your own strategy for the fight. It’s been a while since he’s fought you, since you usually have to cycle through the rest of your classmates, but this time, your goal was to—you felt like a damn pervert for even considering it—to tear his costume in some way. See what that modest bitch was hiding. You could pass it off as a different technique in fighting, or something.

 When you walked into the training area in your hero costume, Bakugou was already warming up, stretching despite his heavy gauntlets, and his grin that was more of an excited scowl cut across his face.

 “C’mon, you damn punk,” he said when you approached him, “Took you long enough. How long’s it take you to get ready to be smeared across the floor?”

 “Oh?” you said calmly, like a calm person, like you weren’t about to trip to rip off the clothes of someone who might not even been your soulmate, “Just as long as it takes to cultivate those three brain cells you’ve got rolling about in your head.”

 What the fuck, dude; where’d that even come from?

 Hissing, Bakugou reached for a grenade on his belt. “You’re gonna be dead before class gets out—”

 While Bakugou and you sparred, you zoned out on the muscle memory of your quirk’s special moves, instead thinking about his dick. Since your mark was on the left, his would probably be on the left and probably not directly on his cock itself, which was probably good. The soulmate mark was a bit ugly and amorphous, to be honest, and you were betting—now that you were paying attention to the bulging, sweaty biceps (trying to get you in a chokehold), the tensing and relaxing of the tendons in his calves and thighs, his longer-fingered, calloused hands (letting an explosion go off in your ear)—that his cock would be as infuriatingly pretty as the rest of him. It was practically framed for your perusal, the way it was surrounded by straps on his belt and pants, the straps cutting into the fabric so that the curve of his cock protruded just slightly more than it normally would. Relaxed, but noticeable. And you were noticing.

 On the receiving end of an aerial explosion, you let out a grunt as you hit the floor, and Bakugou landed right next to you, squatting while holding down your chest with one hand splayed across your collarbone. His warm hand felt nice on your skin.

 “The hell’s wrong with you?”  he spat, pulling back his mask to get his sweaty hair out of his eyes, “Why aren’t you fighting back? You think I can’t take it? Me?”

 You blinked. “I was fighting back—”

 “Not like you normally do. Where’s your stealth slide? Where’s your two-step jump? You’re not pullin’ your best moves,” said Bakugou, grinding his teeth, “and it’s really pissin’ me off. You think I’m stupid?”

 Panting, you grinned. “I know you’re stupid.”

 Huffing, he clamped his free hand around your neck and squeezed the sides. “Try again, you fuck.”

 You rolled your eyes. “What makes you think I’m not—fuck, loosen up a little—not trying my best?”

 He released his grip on your neck, but he kept his hand there. “You haven’t landed a single blow on me this whole time.” He wrinkled his nose. “You usually get one or two in before I kick your ass.”

 “Haven’t I?”

 “Thought you’d know.”

 You shook your head. “I wasn’t paying atten—”

 “I knew it.” Bakugou let go of you and sat back on his heels, disgusted. “You’re a big waste of time if you’re not gonna fight me at your best. Neither of us is getting any better if you don’t value every opportunity to train.”

 Your gaze flickered to his crotch for a moment, but it returned very deliberately to his face. “Who says I’m not?”

 You seized him by the grenade and attempted to flip him; it was mostly successful, and you ripped the back of his shirt in the process. For the split second he was face down, your hungry eyes took in the patch of skin exposed on his lower back—muscled and pretty but unfortunately bare.

 Bakugou, his chest heaving, snapped his head back to glare at you, his jackal-teethed grin growing even wider. “I dare you to try that again.”

 ***

 Though it pained you, you took to studying in the common rooms. You couldn’t concentrate with everyone’s clamouring or trying to talk to you. You ultimately brought down material you already knew, so it didn’t matter if you were interrupted.

 “No, no, Jirou, it’s fine,” you said, pen in your mouth as you unzipped your backpack, “I have extra.”

 Ducking from a miniature bag of popcorn tossed over the couch towards Kouda, you riffled around for some notebook paper. Jirou was grabbing it from you as the tall, dorm door swept open, letting in hot, humid air into the cool commons.

 With Kirishima jogging up behind him, Bakugou stormed into the dorm, post-workout, sweating, pressing his icy water bottle to his cheek and rolling it down under his chin and to his neck as he passed you: black tank top, black sweats.

 Modest bitch.

 Consistent bitch.

 Nothing new, even though it was great to see his biceps every time. But since he’s been consistent with what he’s been wearing, you haven’t been seeing any new skin, since you’ve started camping out. It’s not just going to happen; you’re going to have to make your own opportunities.

 Jirou tugged the paper from your hands and shot you a curious look, and you laughed it off.

 God, you cringed to yourself. You have to be careful, lest you get a reputation for being a creep. How to go about this delicately?

 ***

 You stood with your laundry basket on your hip, meagrely filled with stuff that looked dirty at a glance, staring into the whirling window of a school dryer. The zippers knocked against the metal insides, the only flash in the heap of black clothing. Must be his dark load. He seems like he’d care about that.

 It’s the only dryer going at the moment, since it’s early Saturday, but there were two washers going, the hum louder for reverberating off the basement walls.

 You’re going to do it. You’re going to steal Bakugou’s laundry.

 You glanced at the bleach in your own basket. Maybe it would be better to simply ruin his clothes, since it’d be hard to sneak away with a whole load of clothes up multiple sets of stairs. But that’d be mean, and you would eventually return his clothes, just after a while.

 Crouching on the reflective tile, you sighed, resting your elbows on your knees. This was dumb. This was too dumb. You couldn’t do it. You wanted to kill everyone who’s taken your clothes, so Bakugou would want to murder you anyway. Todoroki, though—he probably wouldn’t notice if you took anything. You wished you were onto him already, instead of agonising over this idiotic—

 You jolted at someone’s clomping down the stairs—in flip flops, by the sound of it. The grumbling under his breath stopped once Bakugou rounded the corner and saw you, pushing on your knees to stand, and he arched a brow.

 “What, you’re so bored you don’t have anything better to do than to watch clothes spin?” He slams a basket full of lights (you caught a flash of an All Might logo from his silver age) onto the top of an unused washer. “I’ve got some series you should watch, then.”

 Big sigh. Bakugou covered himself up more than usual—his white t-shirt cuffed nicely at his upper arms, but no new skin for you to peruse. Sweats again, too. Comfortable bitch. Dress like a slut, you coward.

 “I’m not watching laundry,” you said, moving towards an unused washer yourself, “I’ve got a lot on my mind.” Maybe you’re going about this the wrong way. Maybe if you slip something into his laundry—say, a tiny little pair of slutty shorts—then he might wear those.

 “Yeah? Can’t be anything worse than your little fuck-up in class, can it? Little Miss Place-bo,” he said, nudging you with his elbow between the shoulder blades.

 You swore under your breath. “Listen! Anyone can make that mistake!” You threw up your hands and turned to him. “Anyone can pronounce—pronounce, uh.”

 Your mouth hung open as Bakugou grabbed his shirt by the back of the neck and yanked it over his head, the light cotton fabric catching on his hair. In the precious moments before he could make eye contact with you, you greedily drank in his lower abdomen—defined way beyond toned—this man is fucking ripped, hard lines outlining his muscles—especially those glorious lines forming a v and trailing into his sweats (c’mon, c’mon, make a move to pants him right now; you can pass if off as an accident; do it—)

 “Forget how to pronounce it again?” Bakugou made a noise between a scoff and a chuckle as he tossed his shirt into the washer, along with a detergent pod. His abs flinched at the cold of the metal when he leant into the washer, and you had a hard time dragging your eyes away. “Plah-see-bo,” Bakugou said in English, his voice teasing.

 You swallowed drily and made yourself look at his face. “Yeah? Bite me, Bakugou. We can’t all be perfect all the time—”

 “Strange invitation,” said Bakugou, but he snatched your hand off your own detergent bottle, and he held it in front of his mouth for a moment, pausing for your reaction.

 Your mild surprise morphed into terror when the expected, albeit out of character, kiss to the back of your hand did not happen, and instead he bared his teeth, his tongue running over the sharp points before clamping them together. He took the pad of your ring finger into his mouth, and though he made motions to chomp down quite violently, the bite itself was delicate. Gentle.

 It took his tongue swiping over your finger for you to remember to jerk your hand away, and he rolled his eyes, letting out another scoff-laugh, and he crossed his arms over his bare chest (Your own eyes fell to them, bulging a little. Seeing Bakugou’s tits won’t solve the soulmate problem, but by God, did it make you feel alive).

 “Hey, don’t freak out. You’re the one who said to bite you.”

 Feeling your face heat, you turned to your own laundry. “Does figurative language mean nothing to you?”

 Bakugou shrugged and stretched his arms over his head (a quick check of the armpits—no soulmate mark). When you were this close, you could see the light tan freckles around his scars.

 ***

 Okay, if the embarrassing thing also happened to you, then you clearly couldn’t be the culprit. Therefore, when you and Bakugou both took a late-night shower, both of your clothes would go missing.

 For your part, you simply left the pyjamas you’d be changing into in your dorm room and simply brought a towel that would cover you well.

 Sneaking into the boys’ bathroom and stealing Bakugou’s clothes while he’s in the shower was another story.

 Step one: set up your stuff in the girls’ bathroom, but don’t get wet yourself. Dripping water on the bathroom tile would give away that someone had been there.

 Two: when Bakugou has just put soap in his hand (and therefore starting a new task, not paying attention to outside the shower), take his clothes from the little stool outside the stall curtain.

 Three: skibble back to your shower to get wet, as if you’ve been in the shower all along.

 Four: Do all of the above in an instant, since Bakugou takes aggressive but short showers.

 Five: wait for the shouting.

 Step one accomplished, you’ve wrapped yourself in your biggest towel, cosy and firmly situated not to fall, and as stealthily as you could in your shower shoes, you sneaked down the hallway and into the boys’ bathroom.

 The water hissed onto tile in the farthest stall from the door (great, cool, fabulous), and Bakugou’s voice—fucking humming some song popular a few years ago—floated through the steam.

 Tiptoeing in flip-flops doesn’t work too well. There’s a moment where you squeaked and winced, listening for a sign of acknowledgment, but it never came. You couldn’t take your time, because he could shut off the water at any moment, but you couldn’t just flippity flop all the way—oh, stop thinking. Just do it.

 Within arm’s reach of the wooden stool in front of Bakugou’s shower, the scent of his shampoo wafted towards you, mixing with the steam—man, that apple shampoo was useless, since nitroglycerine smelt like caramel—oh. Oh, that’s cute of him. Caramel-apple-autumn-basic-bitch.

 He’s still humming as you stretched for his pyjamas—your wide eyes pinned to his silhouette through the nasty school curtain—good God, if you just ripped open the curtain, you could see everything—but then 1) you’d be labelled a pervert forever and 2) if he is your soulmate, it’s not a very romantic way to find out. Still. The shadow of his ass had a curve that wouldn’t quit.

 Okay, okay, stop gawking. Grab the clothes, yes, and sneak away—quietly, quietly. Don’t shower shoes your way out.

 Hold up.

 Rushing into the girls’ bathroom, it occurred to you that your plan hadn’t included something to do with his clothes.

 Oh, God. Oh, fuck. Um, you can’t just hide them in your stall, because he might come investigate in here, too—oh, uh. Oh, God.

 Through the pipes overhead, you heard the water shut off for the boys’ bathroom.

 “Oh, fuck, fuck,” you said, kicking open a bathroom stall and peering into the toilet, “Oh, God—no, I can’t—” Grimacing, you dashed out, tripped on your towel, and stumbled to the trash can. “Forgive me, Bakugou,” you said under your breath, and you hid his pyjamas underneath some paper towels.

 You flicked on a sink to hold your head under the water, getting your hair and shoulders wet enough to look convincing, hopefully.

 Now for the show.

 Looking nervous, you peered into the hallway between the bathrooms, and you tentatively took a tiny step into it, your hair dripping onto the carpet.

 The door to the boys’ bathroom slammed open, despite the time of night, and Bakugou strode out with his shower basket, looking grim but no worse than usual, with—with a—

 You’re going to pass out. You’re going to pass out and drop dead. You’re pretty sure Bakugou could hear the nyoom as you stared at his—for fuck’s sake, he’s wrapped what’s got to be, like, a hair towel around his waist, barely skimming the top of his thighs.

 A man’s got legs.

 The thin, white towel covers him enough to be modest, but holy shit, his cock basically doesn’t matter when his legs are like that: thick, powerful thighs, sturdy, muscular, and would splay your legs far apart if you straddled one of them, and calves with definition that comes from running regularly for sport. Mother of God, get this man some booty shorts. He would win every fight immediately.

 Oh, he’s said something. You shook yourself. “Sorry, what was that?”

 Bakugou grunted. “Didn’t expect to see anyone up this late. I must have forgotten my clothes, so.” He scratched the back of his neck and jerked his head to the side.

 Your eye twitched as a bead of water ran from his nipple and down the side of his ribcage.

 “Left?” Oh, you hadn’t considered that he might blame himself. Do you bring up that someone might have stolen yours, since he doesn’t suspect? What do you do? “Uh, looks like we’re in the same boat,” you said, tugging your towel up, despite it still covering everything.

 Wait, maybe you can flash him, and he’ll make the soulmate connection—

 “You should be asleep,” said Bakugou, turning towards the stairs, leaving wet footprints behind him, “It’s not healthy to be up this late. You need to take care of yourself.” He glanced over his shoulder at you. “You can take the elevator.”

 You blinked. “Oh, uh. Thank you. You get some sleep, too.”

 Clearing his throat, Bakugou shrugged it off. “Good night.”

 “Good night.”

 ***

 Bakugou won’t go swimming with the rest of the class. He won’t re-design his costume. Your theoretically accidental spills never hit him. You ended up with nothing but some unvarnished lust, unrequited affection, and coffee to clean up from the floor.

 You’ve decided: one more day, and then you’re moving on to Todoroki. This soulmate search shouldn’t take this long.

 Todoroki would be easier to love than this overly determined, stubborn-ass perfectionist who holds everyone else to the same high standards. God knows you don’t live up to Bakugou’s standards, so it’s good that this is the last day. He probably wouldn’t want you, anyway.

 So, in this last, cloudy day of allowing yourself to like Bakugou, you shirked your own work to sit on the side of the gym with a book as a flimsy excuse to watch Bakugou do one-armed push-ups, his scowl growing deeper with each bead of sweat that dropped to the mat.

 The gym slowly cleared out the further into the evening it got, and when Sero waved his goodbye to Bakugou, he’d spat out a response as stormy as the rain that pelted the gym roof. Huffing, he shot a glare towards you, and you snapped your book upright, not seeing the words.

 It’s just the two of you in the gym, almost closing time, with Bakugou left in charge to close up with the thunderstorm raging outside.

 You wanted to squeeze your heart to a pulp. He knows. He’s got to.

 When the power flickered out at a particularly harsh thundercrack, Bakugou didn’t even react. Turning on the flashlight on your phone, you trotted over, stepping over some weights, to shine your light on his backpack as he ferreted everything away.

 He grunted as he swung the strap over his shoulder, and without so much as a glance back towards you, he trudged to the gym door. He held it open for you, grimacing at the rainfall, and you slipped underneath his arm.

 As the electronic door clicks shut behind the both of you, the rain picked up, striking the pavement like swords into sod. Squinting up at the sky, Bakugou shifted more closely to you underneath the tiny awning outside the door.

 “I shouldn’t run through this shit,” said Bakugou, shifting his backpack to his front, “I’ve got my term paper in here.” He eased himself down onto the cramped bench, scooting the edge of it under the awning so that you’d both be able to sit. “You, you’d get so fucking soaked you wouldn’t be able to lift your feet, and then I’d have to cover your ass.”

 So.

 The two of you couldn’t get back inside, due to the power outage and electronic lock, and your phone was on its last dregs; he didn’t carry his around. You found yourself sitting less than the width of your hand away from someone who might be—oh, who are you kidding? This idiot isn’t your soulmate. So, it didn’t matter if you ruined it.

 “Hey,” you said, and when he didn’t respond, you spoke more loudly, over the rain, “Hey, uh, Bakugou. Are you doing well?”

 He shot you a look out of the corner of his eye and didn’t even bother to answer, simply crossing his arms across his broad chest. As if catching himself, he uncrossed his arms again and rested one on the bench between you.

 “Yeah, okay, that’s fair.” You shifted in your seat away from his hand, because you didn’t want to take up room that Bakugou wanted; it’d make him hate you even more. C’mon, this is the last time you’re going to have Bakugou as a captive audience, and then you can avoid him for the rest of your sorry life.

 C’mon. Open your mouth and say it.

 (“I need to see your dick?”)

 You can do this.

 (“Take out your rascally ol’ penis so that I can see your soulmark, you cuddly bastard.”)

 Bakugou cleared his throat so gruffly it practically blended in with the thunder. “What are you reading?” He nodded towards your book, leaning over your lap to see the cover.

 Oh. You tilted it his way, lightning flashing on the glossy letters. “It’s a social history that came out two months ago; it more or less triangulates the connections between hero marketability, social media, and romantic relationships. Midoriya leant it to me; it’s not exactly a thriller, but it’s informative.”

 (“Cock now!”)

 Bakugou seized the book from your grasp, hunching lazily on his hand between the two of you. “God, this looks miserable,” he said, thumbing through it, holding it away from the rain dripping off the awning, “Cynical and cold to even think about it. Why are you wastin’ your time over hero romantic marketability? Does that matter to you?”

 God, he was taking up more and more space on the bench. You kept scooting away from his hand, which he had lifted from the cast iron to flex his fingers before returning to its spot, but now that the arm rest of the bench was pressing into your thigh, you couldn’t go any farther. Bakugou is a big guy, sure, but does he need a whole bench? “Um—no, not really, but, but it might affect—someone’s career in the future, and—I don’t wanna mess that up for him.”

 You took the book back from him and clutched it to your chest, retreating as much as you could to the end of the wet bench without it cutting into your skin or getting into the rain. You were wincing, scrunching up your face and flinching away from him, closing your eyes so that you wouldn’t see whatever foul expression he’d have for you. Bakugou tugged on the book in your hands, but you gripped onto it more tightly, hunching in on yourself.

 Ask him now. Ask him now, and you can bolt if he tries to kill you. He won’t follow you into the rain because of his term paper.

 You can do it.

 Oh, God, you can’t do this—

 “Goddamnit,” said Bakugou, fumbling for the book, “Are you gonna let me hold your hand, or—”

 “Please let me see your cock!” you shouted a bit too loudly, shielding your face with your face with your hands, and the book dropped from your lap to the wet pavement.

 The rain bombarded the awning uninterrupted for a few painful seconds.

 Peeking through your fingers, you watched Bakugou, his brow furrowed, pick up your book from the awning’s dripline, and he gently shook water off of it before wiping the cover on his sweats.

 “Well,” he said at last, “if that’s the reaction I get when I try to hold your hand, I can only imagine what’ll happen when you let me kiss you.”

 “No, no—forget I said anything. Forget everything I’ve ever done. Forget me. I’m,” you said, spluttering as you stood, “I’m leaving.”

 “Stop.” Bakugou didn’t even have to grab you by the hand to stop you; all he did was graze the inside of your wrist. “Sit back down. Very good. Good girl. Tell me why you need to see my cock,” he said way too seriously, stretching his muscular arm behind you on the bench.

 How is it fair that Bakugou was so calm while you were freaking out? Steeling yourself, you made yourself make eye contact, trying to be as serious as he was. “Bakugou, I think we may be soulmates.”

 The corner of his mouth twitched. “And that correlates with my dick how?”

 Bakugou won’t even have to kill you after this. You’ll do it yourself. “I need to see if you have a soulmark there. Well, not technically your cock but more like the area around it—”

 “You think we’re soulmates because of soulmate marks,” said Bakugou flatly.

 “I—”

 “You know what! Fine.” Bakugou threw his hands up in surrender, surprisingly placid. “If you need to see my cock to affirm we’re soulmates, I’m down. Got two conditions, though.”

 You swallowed with a dry throat. “What are they?”

 “One,” he said, holding up his index finger, looking smug as hell, “you’ve gotta do it kneeling.”

 Your eyebrows shot up. “Oh, uh. Okay.” This must be how Bakugou kills you. Either that, or your heart is going to burst out of your chest, with how hard it’s pounding. “I’ve, uh. Never—” You cut yourself off and moved in front of him.

 “I’ll keep your book from getting wet, but I can’t guarantee the same about you, sweetheart,” said Bakugou, spreading his legs for you.

 If you weren’t going to commit suicide, you’d murder him. Maybe you can fit both into your schedule. You got on your knees between his legs, shuffling a bit closer towards him than you would’ve liked to keep out of the rain. Sighing, you cautiously lifted your shaky hands to the ties on his sweats.

 You paused to look up at the smug bastard. “You didn’t mention the second condition.”

 His teeth glinting in a grin, Bakugou reached down to curl some of your hair behind your ear, not that it really needed it. “Afterwards, I get to punch you in the face.”

 You shrank away from his thighs, trying not to let him see your jaw tremble in the flashing light. No. You’ve come this far, and if Bakugou will kill you with a punch, then that’s probably better than disembowelling yourself, or something. You’d like to see his dick before you die.

 Taking a deep breath, you reached for his sweats again. He, accommodatingly for some reason, lifted his hips for you to tug them down, but you took a moment before doing the same for his plaid boxers. You’re not going to cry out of fear and embarrassment; you’d be the girl who cried at the sight of a cock.

 You glanced up at him. Bakugou glared down at you, his head tilted to the right, arms splayed across the back of the bench. He was clearly suppressing a smirk—you didn’t know why; wouldn’t be more humiliating if he laughed at you in the moment?

 All right, you’re pulling down his boxers. Do it.

 Closing your eyes as thunder rolled, you braced yourself and dragged down the fabric, careful to keep his bare ass from touching frigid cast iron, but it happened anyway (he hissed slightly at the cold). You froze, your hands still gripping the waistband of his boxers when they reached the mid-thigh, and you ducked your head.

 “You gonna open your eyes?” His voice cut you straight to the bone. “You’re gettin’ punched for this; you might as well look.”

 You were not above temptations of the flesh.

 You were right: his cock lived up to the rest of his unfairly pretty-boy body, even though at this point it wasn’t even fully erect. Stupid and pretty and flushed, curving to the side just slightly with a pulsing vein (artery?) going up the same side that curved. The thick base sat amongst dark blond curls, and when you huffed in frustration, it twitched when your hot breath blew over it.

 Scowling at his cock, you said, “Where’s the soulmark?”

 “You’re an idiot,” said Bakugou, yanking his boxers and pants back up, and he didn’t even stand up to punch you; you hardly had time to prepare yourself properly. All you saw was his huge fist reeling back for a split second before smashing into your face.

 You fell back on your ass, extremely baffled but somehow not in pain. You touched your cheeks, your mouth—nothing was broken or even aching. Bakugou had looked like he was going to slam you into the next century; why did it only feel like a tap on the cheek?

 “You look confused,” said Bakugou, grinning and crossing his legs to hide the growing bulge in his sweats, “Don’t tell me you’re as stupid as you look.” He held out his hand to help you up, and he pulled you back onto the bench, this time sitting under his arm around your shoulders. “We’re soulmates, all right, but we don’t have marks. We can’t physically cause each other pain.”

 You hesitantly snuggled into his pec, and he hummed when you did, so you supposed that was permission. Bakugou emanated a bunch of body heat; you should have done this when you first came out into the rain. And things were falling into place: the bite to your finger, the sparring when you couldn’t hit him…

 “You’ve let me flounder?”

 He tightened his grip around your shoulder. “I thought it’d be more fun for you if you figured it out yourself.”

 Frowning, you gently hit his chest. “How long have you known?”

 “Long enough to enjoy your terrible attempts to get me naked, sweetheart,” said Bakugou with a smile so annoyingly self-satisfied that you couldn’t look at it for long, “All you had to do was ask.”

 “Oh, my God.”

 With his free hand, he reached over to lace his fingers through yours. “Do you still have my pyjamas?”

 You groaned into his shirt, not wanting to look him in the eye. “Yes. I was gonna wash them first, though. But wait,” you said, “I have a soulmark.”

 Bakugou scoffed. “No, you don’t.”

 “I do; it’s right next to—to my vagina,” you ended in a whisper, almost covered under the thunder.

 “Dumbass. It was probably a bruise.” He was stroking your upper arm with two of his fingers. “It’s gotta be gone by now. Have you checked recently?”

 “Uh,” you said, biting your lip and glancing away, “No. But I have pictures!”

 “Show me,” he said, and he waited for you to dig out your phone, which died as soon as you pulled it up.

 “I swear that it looked a bit like an explosion—”

 He cocked an eyebrow. “You mean like a normal bruise?”

 “I think I would know when I got a bruise there.”

 Bakugou clicked his tongue. “Fine, then where’d you get that bruise on the back of your left leg?”

 “What?” You twisted your leg, pulling up your capris a bit to see the full bruise. “I don’t—I didn’t know I had one there. Shut up. Okay, it’s possible that I mistook a bruise for a soulmark.”

 Bakugou shifted so that he was facing you and took both of your hands in his, playing with your fingers. “Want me to check?”

 You jolted in your seat, hands tensing in his. “Ex—excuse me?”

 “You don’t know if it’s a soulmark, yeah? I do, but you seem to like proof. I can look for you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

 “I—” Too flustered to speak well, you nodded at Bakugou’s encouragement, with the voice in the back of your head saying that you could easily get addicted to the tender way he’s looking at you.

 “Good girl. I’ll only do it with a condition, though,” said Bakugou, getting on his knees in front of you, nudging your legs apart, “I get to do it kneeling.”

soulmate trope taglist: @bakugouspsycho

#bnha #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou/reader #bakugou imagine #bakugou fic #mha #bakugou headcanons #bakugou fanfiction #bakugou fanfic #bakugou katsuki x reader #soulmates #soulmate #soulmate au #dash it all

[stillalittlelostngl]

MHA Boys w/ 5ft Tall S/O (Reader)

This was a request I had from a while back that I'm reposting

Katsuki (5’8)

-his initial instinct wasn’t to recognize them as any sort of threat due to their height - he knows logically it's a bit of an assumption so he *should* still keep an eye on them (they're in the hero course after all)

-until of course they quickly went on to prove they could pack a punch even with such a small frame and he hated to admit it but he was pretty impressed 

-cue constant teasing about their height - Bakugou generally likes to get under people's skin partly because he's just a confrontational dick like that and partly because he can further assess them that way - their reactions, emotional disposition, how confrontational they are etc. he makes a mental note of it all. He tells himself it's because it's useful info to have that'll translate well to how they are during a fight or stressful situation. Definitely not at all because it's the only way he knows how to get their attention on him - nuh uh couldn't possibly be that

-short stack/short stuff, smalls, small fry, half pint, pipsqueak, ankle biter - honestly it seems like he has a new name every day for them. He gets a kick out of their reactions since they do have a bit of a temper of course that also means they tend to retaliate which left the rest of the class having to defuse the situation 

-(honestly liked that they weren’t scared to stand up to him or talk back so that and their general strength are what he respected about em from the jump +drew him to them)

-overtime he develops his crush and he wants to hit himself in the face for thinking that them being short is something endearing - honestly it probably stems from the ego boost he’d get anytime he had to help them get something off a shelf or help them up during training. Sure he'd give them shit for it the whole time but he was always the first to rush to help them when they asked for it.

-when they started dating the names didn’t stop of course but some more appropriate pet name ones occasionally got thrown into the mix too (firecracker, mini, lil bit, etc.)

-he likes that they’re able to fit under his arm perfectly when he puts his arm around them when they walk and that he can pick them up like it’s nothing - the laughter he’s able to get out of them when he does it is cute as hell. Of course his favorite thing is that they have to get on their tip toes a bit when they want to kiss him and he’ll often tease them by not leaning down for them

-(what then ensues is them climbing him and tryna wrestle him down to their height or if they’re annoyed enough to the ground - how successful they are varies day to day) 

-(if he’s irritated with them he’ll hid their shit in the top cabinets and on top of the fridge - after several instances of him yelling at his classmates they’ve learned to not interfere and help his s/o) 

-(his s/o buys a stepstool) 

Todoroki (5’9)

-honestly doesn’t think much of it, has no strong feelings about it either way as he’s kinda oblivious to these sorts of things unless they’re in relation to a fighting situation or efficiency - it’s just how he’s been taught to process things tbh 

-so, he things its kinda a disadvantage to not be able to reach things or to have to work harder to keep up with him when he’s walking - but they’re also able to hide better and could probably do infiltration missions better, so that’s cool 

-of course he makes sure to tell his s/o this anytime they ask him to help them get something down - he thinks their reactions are pretty funny tbh 

-he does like being big spoon tho and watching how comfortable they are all wrapped up in him, that’s pretty cute 

-one time they mentioned how it was kind of a pain to always have to strain to kiss him so he lifted them up a step so that they were a equal height before asking them to kiss try kissing him then (kinda becomes their thing after that - if his s/o wants to initiate a kiss they’ll look for something to climb or sit on before doing so) 

-idk it’s not really something he thinks about - he likes his s/o because they’re them and so he’ll find anything about them physically appealing. It’s not more complicated for him than that. 

Midoriya (5’5)

-he’s not really used to being *that* much taller than folks so it secretly pleases him that you’re short. He treats it as if it’s some guilty pleasure or something because he doesn’t want it to seem like he’s demeaning you for something you can’t control, he just think it’s so adorable that you have to look up at him or stand on your tip toes to kiss him or ask for his help to reach things! 

-(midoriya loves to feel needed and it just really reiterates a feeling of being a hero because he’s able to help you with stuff - even if it is just small tasks) 

-how small your hands are in his is what does it for him tho babyyy - makes him feel better to have your hand engulfed in his so that he can keep you safe 

Shinsou (5’9 ) 

-he’s used to towering over classmates so it’s not something he pays too much attention to but he does find it pretty cute 

-he teases you about it from time to time (not to the extent Bakugou does - normally just using you as an arm rest or some “if you want me to reach that or help you up you have to pay the toll” (changes from being one kiss, saying he’s the best and is better than you at everything, etc. - the things you do to get to the top shelf smh) 

-the first time he tried to kiss you he was so nervous that when he leaned down he missed completely and ended up just kissing your forehead - tried to play it off as intentional but it was pretty obvious it wasn’t lmao 

-forehead kisses do become a thing for y’all though 

#mha #mha hcs #my hero hcs #my hero academy #my hero academia #bnha #bnha hcs #boko no hero academia #katsuki bakugō #katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugou #bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #katsuki #bakugou #bakugo #bakugou x reader #bakugou/reader #bakugou x you #bakugou/you #bakugou katsuki/reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x you #bakugou katsuki/you #katsuki/you #katsuki x you #katsuki/reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou/you #katsuki bakugou/reader

[the-wild-wolves-around-you]

hear those bells ring: chapter 10 (a bakugo x reader fic)

Summary: Aftermath of Bakugo and Reader's kiss with a touch of angst. (And a little more Bakusquad shenanigans bc I love them).

Pairings: Katsuki Bakugo/Reader; Katsuki Bakugo/You

Rating: M(ature)

Warnings: Adult language. Violence?

A/N: hey y'all, sorry about the delay. i got sick, then my keyboard died, then my country declared war on my uterus, so you know. it's been a month lmao. also, fun fact, this story garnered me my first hate message. apparently, as a millennial, i'm too old to be writing fanfic. :( so, sorry guys, i gotta pack it in and never consume or enjoy media again

anyway lol hope you enjoy this chap, and I already have the next one finished, just gotta edit. so that will be up sometime later this week. :)

~*~*~ No spoilers or anything. This is just a self-indulgent AU fic with aged up characters. Everyone’s in their mid-20s. Fic title is from a song called “Achilles Come Down.”

Ao3 Link: Here

Ch 1 Tumblr Link: Here

Ch 9 Tumblr Link: Here

“You’re making a mistake, Stitches.”

Bakugo was close enough that his voice rumbled through you like a thunderstorm, and the space between the two of you was so charged with electricity you felt like you’d been struck by lightning, every hair on your body standing on end.

Then, before you could really process his words-- his warning-- he leaned down, slanted his mouth across you own, and stole all the breath from your lungs.

Your brain short-circuited for a moment, and all you could think of was how warm yet soft the blond’s lips felt against yours. Then your now sober mind started distantly screaming that this was not a good idea, but your thoughts all turned to static when Bakugo’s hot tongue traced the seam of your mouth. You gasped, and he seized the opportunity, that lithe muscle darting past your teeth and bringing with it the taste of sake and whisky and something else, something that you just knew was distinctly Bakugo.

The space between your ears was little better than cotton now, and your eyes fluttered shut as one strong hand threaded through your hair while the other latched onto your waist. Bakugo kissed with the same intensity he did everything else, and your body bent to his every command. The skin around his mouth was a little rough with stubble, and a whimper rattled in the back of your throat because it burned so good.

Your involuntarily noise seemed to spur the blond on because he tilted your head back for better access, his tongue doing its best to memorize every tooth and corner of your mouth. The hand on your waist tightened even further, enough to possibly leave bruises, and the thought made the apex of your thighs throb.

The lack of oxygen was beginning to make your head spin, but you couldn’t even find it in yourself to care as you fisted your hands in the material of his shirt, twining your tongue along his. You could feel his heart pounding beneath his ribcage, a frantic pattern to match your own, and you were just beginning to think you might faint when Bakugo ripped his mouth away.

“Fuck,” he panted, and you opened your eyes to find his red ones staring down at you from inches away. The red irises burned with desire in the low light of the patio, and his fingers flexed around your waist again, like he was having to restrain himself from pulling you back in.

You licked your lips, finding them wet and swollen, and Bakugo’s gaze tracked the movement like a predator stalking its prey. The intensity of his stare made your core throb again, and you opened your mouth— to say what, you didn’t know— but then the sound of a door opening went off like a gunshot, and Bakugo was propelling himself away from you like you were on fire.

You stumbled since you’d been leaning all your weight into the blond, and you were just about to ask what the hell when another voice cut across the patio.

“There you are, Stitch— oh, hey, Kats, you’re still here?” Mina asked as she came to a stop a few feet from the door and cocked her pink head.

Your mouth dropped open as blood rushed into your cheeks, and for a moment, you just gaped silently, your eyes flicking from Mina, to Bakugo, and back again. A million thoughts tumbled through your head like rocks in a dryer, clunky and loud, but before you could string even a few of them together, Bakugo scoffed beside you. The sound was sharp, abrasive, and it made you shrink into yourself.

“I told you to stop calling me that, Raccoon Eyes,” he snapped. “And I was just fuckin’ leaving.”

Then, before you could say a word, the blond stomped away from you and shouldered past his friend. He didn’t look back.

“Wait, wha—” Mina started to ask as she turned, but Bakugo slammed the door behind him and cut her off.

You stared after the explosive hero with wide eyes, and one by one, the neurons started firing in your head again.

Oh, fuck. What did you just do? And how much had Mina seen?

“Well, goodbye to you, too,” the pink-skinned hero muttered, and she rolled her eyes as she faced you again. “Sorry about him. I would say his mother should have taught him better, but if you met his mother, a lot of things would start to make sense.”

“O-Oh, no, it’s fine,” you said, your voice coming out more high-pitched than you wanted it to. You plastered on a smile, hoping to mask the freakout building up inside you like an impending volcanic eruption, but then you started wondering if Mina could tell your lips were swollen. Did they look red? Shit, what about your hair?

You recalled thick fingers twining through the strands at the back of your head, and your whole body flushed with heat.

No, bad, stop thinking about that. Be normal. Act normal.

“Uh-huh…” Mina said as she narrowed her two-tone eyes at you. “Sooooo, what were you guys doing out here anyway? The whole table’s been worried about you. We tried texting you, but then Kiri and I started searching the bar.”

“Shi— I’m so sorry,” you blurted out and fished your phone from your pocket, wincing at the several missed calls and text messages. “My phone was on silent. I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you guys. I was coming back to the table, I swear, but then…”

You trailed off as you realized you couldn’t tell her what really happened. It was just a drunken, spur-of-the-moment decision to come outside.

Weren’t drunk when you kissed him, though, you made sure of that, a nasty voice whispered in the back of your head, and you suppressed a wince.

That may be true, but it was still a mistake, considering the way Bakugo all but ran away. He obviously regretted it— maybe he’d just be humoring sad, pathetic you— so he definitely wouldn’t want you blabbing about his error in judgment to his actual friends.

A painful ache began to throb in the center of your chest, the base of your throat, but you pushed it down and away.

“But thennnn…” Mina suddenly drawled and yanked you out of your thoughts, and you looked up to see her raising an eyebrow at you.

You didn’t have time to craft an elaborate lie, so a partial truth would have to suffice.

“But then I saw Bakugo through the door, and I wanted to make sure he was alright,” you said. “I’ve gotten the impression that he doesn’t really l-like me, so I just wanted to apologize for crashing this night with his friends. O-Or at least that was the plan, but, um, some guys were smoking out here, and they started bothering me until Bakugo told them off.”

“Oh.” Mina frowned and looked a tad less suspicious. “Are you okay? Do we need to find those guys?”

“No, no,” you said as you waved your hands. “It’s fine, really. They were just drunk and trying to hit on me, but one look at Pro Hero Dynamight sent them running.”

You laughed nervously and tried not to fidget. You needed to be the picture of innocence, like someone who had not almost been caught making out with the Number Two hero in Japan.

Don’t think about it, don’t think about it.

“I see,” Mina hummed, but then her black-and-gold eyes flicked up and down your figure again. “Soo… when did Kats give you his jacket?”

Heat flooded your cheeks once more, and you suddenly became hyper aware of the warm weight on your shoulders, smelling of smoke and sugar.

“O-Oh, uh, t-that was—” Stop stuttering, stop stuttering. You cleared your throat. “That was right after those guys went back inside again. I was shivering, and Bakugo berated me for not dressing warmer. Something about not getting sick while I’m under their agency’s care or something. He flung it over me a few seconds before you walked outside.”

Mina’s gaze narrowed on you, like she was trying to find your weaknesses, find the cracks in your story, your resolve, but you just forced your cheeks up into another semblance of a smile and tried not to think of the sweat sliding down your spine despite the cool night air.

A beat of silence passed, then two, before Mina let out a sigh.

“That sounds like Kats, being a dick while doing a nice thing.” She shook her head, the string lights above glinting off the silver glitter on her horns and skin. “Try not to hold it against him too much. He’s actually a good guy under his sharp and unpleasant exterior.”

“Of course.” You nodded and did your best to push the blond from your mind. Then you took a deep breath and gestured to the doors. “Well, should we get back inside? I don’t want to worry Kirishima more than necessary.”

“Oh, shit, yeah,” Mina laughed. “Five bucks says he’s trying to get the bar owner to turn on all the lights while Sero’s trying to stop him, and Denki is crying at our table.”

“Do you really think they’re that worried?” you asked as your eyes widened.

“Well, yeah.” Mina laughed again and linked her arm through yours. “We like you, girl. Some of us maybe a little more than others, too, so don’t think you ‘crashed’ tonight. Katsuki just doesn’t like going out in public, so he’s always moody when we get drinks, that had nothing to do with you. Now, come on. We can probably do one more round of shots before Denki faceplants into the table.”

Your smile was a little less forced as the acidic hero led you inside, and you outright laughed when you discovered she’d been right. Kirishima was trying to get the lights turned on, but Sero was trying to stop both him and Kaminari, who was going up to the DJ on the dancefloor side of the bar and loudly attempting to take the mic and make an announcement.

Thankfully, Mina was able to drag the drunk blond back to the table, and Kirishima came willingly when he saw you wave at him across the bar. Back in your private section, the guys bombarded you with questions, asking if you were alright, where you went, if you were hurt. You quickly assuaged their fears and apologized for worrying them— while deftly avoiding any mention of a certain ash-blond hero— and you offered to buy the next round to make up for it.

That idea was immediately shot down, but they did agree to another round, so Mina flagged down a waiter while the guys herded you into the booth, with Sero and Kaminari on either side of you. The blond drunkenly leaned his head against your shoulder and begged you not to disappear again because it was his birthday, and you promised not to move as you awkwardly patted his head.

Kirishima shook his head from across the table, but then he caught your eye and mouthed, “Are you okay?”

You nodded and smiled, trying to look like you were having fun. And a part of you did. The drinks arrived shortly, and the table was loud with laughter as the heroes retold more tales of their youth and heroic exploits gone awry. You laughed and smiled along with them, even if you only sipped at your drink while they downed theirs and ordered more sake. They asked more questions about your past and America, Sero and Kaminari especially, and you did your best to make your boring life sound even a little bit exciting.

You must have succeeded because each of the heroes listened intently when you spoke, interjecting appropriate questions and tidbits here and there. You relaxed a little more with each story told and question answered, but you couldn’t stop your eyes from wandering past the wooden partition around the table.

Bakugo was gone, though, you knew it deep down even as you searched for a flash of ash-blond hair. You tried to push him out of your mind, tried not to think about the incident out on the patio, but as the night wore down and the talking petered out, your thoughts became consumed with how badly you fucked up.

What were you thinking, kissing a pro hero? You wished you could say you weren’t thinking, that you were drunk, but you stole that excuse from yourself the moment you used your quirk.

For a moment, the realization that Bakugo hadn’t been drunk either filled you with an emotion you refused to name, and you recalled the desire in his scarlet eyes as he clutched you against him.

But then you reminded yourself of how fast he pushed you away, how fast he’d fled the patio and didn’t look back, and you told yourself you had imagined the look on his face when he pulled away from your lips. It had to have been a pity kiss. Poor, homeless Stitches, who had no friends and couldn’t stand up for herself, who always need saving, who had failed the hero entrance exam twice and then fled America when she also failed to find a job in her degree field. Poor Stitches, whose greatest achievement in the last year was fixing an old lady’s fractured hip.

Pity. There was no other reason Pro Hero Dynamight would stoop so low as to kiss you. It was probably the same reason the rest of the heroes seemed so interested in you tonight. Part of it might have been novelty— an American civilian who worked a menial job— but the rest of it had to be pity. Maybe Kirishima had texted them all before you guys arrived and told them to just treat you nicely for the night.

This knowledge tied your guts up in knots, bile rising to the back of your throat. You were trying to center yourself by counting the fading bubbles in your warm, untouched beer when a large hand flashed in front of your face.

“What?” You snapped your head up to find everyone staring at you, Kirishima still stretched halfway across the table as he withdrew his hand.

“I was asking if you’re ready to go,” the redhead said with a soft smile before he jerked his chin at your side. “Denks just passed out, and that’s usually when we call it a night.”

You turned your head slightly to find the blond electric hero slumped in the booth beside you, his head tipped back as snores echoed from his slack mouth.

“O-Oh, yeah,” you murmured. “Sorry, yeah, I’m ready.”

“Cool, this way,” Sero said as he slid out of the opposite side of the booth and held a hand out to help you.

“Thank you.” You took his hand and gracelessly scooted out of the booth, blushing when you realized Bakugo’s bomber jacket was still draped over your shoulders.

Thankfully, Sero didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t comment, but his hand lingered around yours for a moment before he pulled away and turned to Kirishima.

“Alright, dude,” he said as he balled one hand up and held it on top of the opposite palm. “You know the drill.”

“I need to take Stitches back to the agency,” Kirishima argued with a frown. “You’ll have to get him tonight, but I’ll get him next time.”

“Uh-uh, don’t try and weasel out now, Riot,” Sero teased, and his mouth settled in an expression somewhere between a smirk and a grin. “It’s tradition. Besides, I know where your agency is. I’m pretty sure I could get Stitches back there just fine.”

He threw you a wink as he said that last sentence, and you flushed under his attention.

It’s fake, you reminded yourself. Pity.

“U-Um, what’s going on?” you asked, to which Mina giggled and looped her arm through yours.

“Just watch,” she whispered, and you turned back to the men to see Kirishima rolling his eyes.

“Fine,” he said and then held his hands out identical to Sero’s.

Wait, were they going to—

“Jan, ken, pon!” the two heroes chanted as they moved their hands in unison.

Yup, they were playing rock, paper, scissors.

“Ha-ha!” Kirishima cheered as his scissors cut Sero’s paper. “I win.”

“Shit,” Sero sighed, but another easygoing grin spread across his mouth a moment later. “You’re learning, dude.”

“Mina pointed out last time that I always start with rock, so I decided to change it up,” the redhead laughed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Oh, come on, Pinks,” the dark-haired hero groaned as he turned on Mina. “You threw off my winning streak.”

“I just evened the playing field.” She stuck her tongue out at him, but her two-toned eyes twinkled with mirth. “Don’t be a sore loser, Han.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sero sighed, but you could tell he was fighting back a smile as he rounded the table and came up to the opposite side of the booth. “Come on, Denks, up you go.”

The tall and lanky hero bent down and tossed Kaminari’s limp arm over his shoulder, coaxing the half-conscious blond to his feet.

“Are we… getting another round?” Kaminari slurred as he slumped against Sero, and his yellow eyes were struggling to flutter open.

“No,” Sero snorted and wrapped an arm around the blond’s waist. “We’re getting you home. Can you walk, or do I gotta tape ya?”

“I can walkkkk,” Kaminari whined and then immediately stumbled over his own feet, half careening into the table and rattling the dishes.

“Tape it is,” Sero muttered, and you watched as what looked like a white bandage slithered out of his elbow.

“Noooooo,” Kaminari half-protested, but he didn’t even fight it as the tape started at his feet and wound around his body, encasing him in a white cocoon. The adhesive strip came to a stop just under his neck so he could still breathe, and the blond pouted blearily at his friends. “I hate you all.”

“Love ya too, buddy,” Sero snickered before he turned to you, Mina, and Kirishima. “You guys ready?”

“Yup!” Mina chirped and tugged on your elbow to spin you around. “Onward!”

“Uhhhh, is Kaminari gonna be okay?” you asked as you were dragged toward the entrance, glancing over your shoulder to see Sero squatting down, picking up the cocooned electric hero, and throwing him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Yeah, this isn’t the first time he’s been taped, he’ll be fine,” Mina giggled and then shot you a wink. “He might be embarrassed in the morning when he learns you saw him get taped, but he’ll survive.”

“O-Oh, okay,” you said, because what else could you say? This was obviously a normal end of the night for the heroes, so who were you to judge?

Mina expertly guided you out of the bar without drawing any attention from the lingering drunks, and when you glanced at the old clock above the front door, you saw it was long past midnight.

How did it get so late?

The cold night air hit you like a slap to the face as you stepped out of the bar, and you shivered, ducking a little bit into you jacket until you got a whiff of burnt sugar off the collar and remembered it wasn’t your jacket. Embarrassment crawled through your veins like ants, but you were thankfully distracted from the sensation by a commotion behind you.

“Damn it, Denki, stop struggling,” Sero huffed as he clomped down the stairs with a wriggling Kaminari still thrown over his shoulder. The pair came to a stop on the sidewalk beside you and Mina, and the dark-haired hero grunted as he shifted the blond’s weight. “Ugh, where’s Ochako when I need her?”

“If I’m so heavy, then put me down,” Kaminari said and continued wiggling. “I can walk.”

“Remember the last time you said that, Denks, and you ended up going to the hospital because you knocked out two teeth faceplanting into a curb?” Kirishima chuckled as he came down the stairs last.

“That was one time!” the blond whined, and he arched like a worm writhing on a hook. “And it’s my birthday! I shouldn’t be taped on my birthday!”

“Denki, if you don’t stop, I’m dragging you all the way home,” Sero warned, and he must have been serious, because Kaminari immediately stopped struggling.

“Fine,” he pouted. “I’m going to sleep, then. Take that.”

Sero rolled his dark eyes before they came to settle on you, and then a small smile tugged at his lips.

“It was nice to meet you,” he said. “I hope our shenanigans haven’t completely chased you off.”

“No, no,” you assured him quickly, and your own smile was only a little forced. “Tonight was… fun. More fun than I’ve had in a while. So, thank you for having me.”

Thank you for pretending, you didn’t say.

“Aw, you’re so cute and polite,” Mina cooed before she leaned over and smacked a kiss against your cheek, causing you to blush as red as Kirishima’s hair. But you told yourself that the pink-skinned hero just seemed affectionate with everyone, that was all.

“W-Wait, is that Stitches?” Kaminari suddenly gasped and renewed his struggling. “She’s still here? Sero, put me down! I need to say goodbye.”

“Oops, that’s our cue.” Sero smirked and glanced at Mina. “You coming, or making your own way home?”

“Someone’s gotta make sure you both end up home in one piece,” the pink-haired hero giggled and then held up the hand that wasn’t looped through yours, flashing the phone she held. “I already ordered us a car. They’re like a minute away and are meeting us at the corner down there.”

She gestured past Sero, and he glanced over his right shoulder with Kaminari still wiggling on the left one.

“Alright, let’s go,” he said before he flashed you one last wink. “Have a good night, Stitches. Hope to see you soon.”

“Y-Yeah, you, too.” You smiled faintly, fighting back you blush. He was just being nice, polite, he didn’t mean it. “Get home safe.”

“I’ll text you with my schedule this week so we can plan a girl’s day,” Mina said as she disentangled her arm from yours and pressed another kiss to your cheek. “Bye!”

“B-Bye,” you stuttered, waving weakly as the pink-skinned hero skipped over to Sero’s side, and then the two turned and started walking down the street in the opposite direction.

“Uh, bye, guys,” Kirishima called out after his friends as he stepped up next to you.

“Oh, yeah, bye, Kiri!” Mina blew a kiss over her shoulder while Sero half-heartedly lifted his hand but didn’t turn.

“Wait! Stitchessssss!” Kaminari managed to crane his head up just enough to catch a glimpse of you, and then he bucked right off Sero’s shoulder, tumbling to the ground.

“Oh!” you gasped, covering your mouth and glancing at Kirishima. “Is he okay?”

“He’ll be fine,” the redhead laughed, and he jerked his chin toward his friends. “See?”

You looked up in time to see Sero shake his head down at Kaminari, who had flipped over onto his stomach and was trying to inch worm his way down the sidewalk back in your direction. Sero muttered something to the blond that you couldn’t hear, but Kaminari kept crawling, so the dark-haired hero shrugged and started walking forward again.

“Noooooo,” Kaminari wailed as he was dragged backwards by the tape encasing his body, and he called out your nickname several times before the tape slithered up his neck and over his mouth, muffling his screams.

“I could have said goodbye to him, if it meant so much,” you said with a furrowed brow.

“We would have been here for another hour,” Kirishima chuckled and shook his head. “On his last birthday, Denki started crying about how much he loved everyone, and he wrapped himself around Bakugo’s legs, refusing to let go and causing a major scene. Which Bakubro escalated by blasting him off, but… yeah. This was as quick and painless as it gets.”

“If you say so,” you murmured, suppressing a wince when you saw Kaminari get dragged over the curb on the corner while Sero and Mina approached a waiting car.

“Sero won’t hurt him too much, just enough to hopefully knock some sense into him so they don’t get kicked out of the car.” The redhead smiled down at you reassuringly before he extended his elbow. “We should be on our way, too. It’s later than I intended, sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, really.” You smiled back and tentatively took his elbow. “I wasn’t lying before. I had fun. I just hope I didn’t embarrass myself too much or bore anyone with my American stories.”

“Are you kidding?” Kirishima scoffed as the pair of you started walking down the street in the direction of his agency. “Everyone loved you. And I thought your American stories were so cool! Especially the college ones. Bakugo and I just started climbing the hero ranks straight out of U.A., so the fact that you got a degree is really impressive to me.”

“Getting a piece of paper is definitely not as impressive as becoming the Number Three Hero by your mid-twenties,” you snorted.

“Nah, I mainly just rode Bakugo’s coat tails up the ladder.” The hardening hero shrugged, and you could see a faint blush stain his cheeks, but then he was looking down at you with a frown. “You talk down on yourself a lot, you know.”

“W-What?” Your feet stuttered along with your mouth, and you slipped off the curb and would have twisted your ankle if Kirishima hadn’t held you up.

“Whoops, careful,” he said as he literally picked you up with one arm— with you still clutching to the curve of his elbow like a kid hanging off the monkey bars— and set you back down on your feet. “You okay?”

“Y-Yup.” You cleared your throat and tried to fight back your embarrassed flush. Then you took a deep breath and watched your feet closely as the two of you started walking again. “Sorry, I’m just… stupidly clumsy.”

“There you go again,” Kirishima said and bumped his shoulder into yours, except your head was level with his shoulder, so he nearly shoved you off the curb again. “Oops, my bad. But seriously, Stitches, you shouldn’t talk down on yourself so much. Or apologize so much. I swear I’ve heard you apologize for breathing before. But you’re a genuinely cool person. You’re obviously smart, what with the knowing multiple languages, the degree, and you even own your own business! That’s so awesome!”

“I’m just a seamstress,” you muttered, and you swore your face was on fire now. You were anticipating actual flames any second now. You kept trying to tell yourself he was just being nice, but he sounded so genuine, so earnest, and you didn’t know what to do with that.

“You provide an important service to the public,” the redhead corrected, bumping you with his shoulder again, but much softer this time. Then he smiled down at you, and you couldn’t help but smile faintly back. “A-ha! There it is. Knew I could get you to smile. Seriously, though, you’ve accomplished a lot, so you really shouldn’t talk bad about my friend like that.”

“Your… friend?” you echoed in disbelief.

“Well, yeah,” Kirishima said as he looked down at you, and his red eyes were serious and sincere. “I know we haven’t known each other long, but… I consider you a friend. Hell, you’ve already made dinner for me more times than Denki, so you might be a better friend than he is.”

The hardening hero grinned to show he was joking, but all you could do was blink up at him in shock. He… thought of you as a friend? You’d considered yourself an acquaintance at best, but more likely a burden and obligation. But you knew Kirishima wouldn’t just outright lie to you. He was too… good for that, too honest and straightforward.

So… maybe everyone hadn’t just been pretending tonight. Maybe they didn’t pity you. Maybe they actually… liked you.

The thought had hope and happiness rising in your chest like birds taking flight, but then the image of Bakugo marching away from you flashed through your mind, and the birds were shot out of the sky.

Well, obviously not everyone liked you.

“Uh, Stitches?” Kirishima’s voice drew you from your thoughts, and you shook your head before looking up at him.

“Sorry,” you said, manipulating your stiff lips into a small smile. “I was just… surprised you think of me that way.”

“You don’t think of us as friends?” He frowned, and there was a note of hurt in his voice.

“N-No, I just… I didn’t want to presume anything,” you muttered and averted your gaze to watch a car drive by. It was easier to gather your thoughts when you weren’t looking at the imposing redhead, so you took a deep breath before you continued. “I’ve really enjoyed my time at the agency so far. The sidekicks always ask me about my day when I go downstairs, and sometimes we talk about the latest TV shows while standing around the coffee machine in the breakroom. I’ve liked learning and buying their favorite snacks, and the few times you and I ate dinner were fun. It’s been… nice. Really nice. I’ve never really had a lot of friends. I was always the weird Asian girl who had an accent until the second grade, and even when I lost it, I was still one of a few ‘ethnic’ people in a mostly white area. And when I moved here, even though I speak the language, sometimes people can tell I’m American and just… treat me differently.”

“That sucks,” Kirishima muttered as his frown deepened in your peripherals. “I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is.” You shrugged and tried to seem unbothered even though your ‘otherness’ had eaten away at you all your life. “But what I’m trying to say is, it’s not that I didn’t want to think of you all as friends. It’s just… you’re all really important heroes, and I know that the only reason I even came to the agency was because you had to pay for the repairs on my shop. So I just thought…”

“That we were only being nice because we had to?” Kirishima finished.

“Well… yeah,” you murmured and blushed, because now that you said it out loud, it sounded like you thought the redhead and the rest of the sidekicks were all shallow and two-faced, which wasn’t fair to them.

“And do you still think that?” he asked, but there wasn’t any judgement in his voice. It was an honest question.

You glanced at the hardening hero out of the corner of your eye, and you found him staring down at you patiently. You recalled how excited he had been to invite you tonight, to introduce you to his friends, how he had searched for you when he thought you were missing. None of that felt like obligation to you, and you realized that your own insecurities made you form some unfair assumptions about him and the other heroes that you’d encountered in the last week.

“No,” you finally said, and it didn’t taste like a lie. “No, I don’t.”

“Good.” Kirishima grinned down at you. “Because the last time I invited someone to hang out with my friends out of obligation, I was like… five, and my mom said I had to invite my whole class to my birthday party, even the mean kid who liked to push everyone down at recess. And you’re definitely much more fun to hang out with than that butthead Shin Okamura.”

You giggled at that, and the sound made Kirishima’s grin widen.

“Alright, fine,” you huffed and rolled your eyes, but your smile only grew. “I’ll… stop being so self-deprecating.”

“Good,” Kirishima repeated as he continued leading you to his agency, but when he looked down at you again, he was suddenly serious. “Just remember. You don’t have to be a hero to make a difference in the world.”

You’d heard the same platitudes from your parents, from your college professors, and you sighed.

“I know—”

“You could be a back alley healer, for example.”

You gasped and stumbled again, glancing around for anyone who might have overheard, but the street was empty and quiet save the two of you. Still, your heart was tap dancing off rhythm beneath your sternum, and you squeezed Kirishima’s arm from where you still had your hand tucked into his elbow.

“Ow! Okay, sorry, sorry!” Kirishima burst out laughing and pretended to cower away from you, but the effect was ruined by the grin breaking his face in half.

And you couldn’t quite hide your own smile, either.

The pair of you dissolved into silence for a minute as you continued walking down the street, and when you turned the next corner, you could see the agency looming up into the night sky at the end of the block.

“Hey, Stitches, can I ask you something, friend to friend?” Kirishima finally broke the silence, and something about his phrasing immediately set you on edge, your good mood evaporating like smoke.

“Uhh, sure,” you said and hoped you wouldn’t regret it.

“Did something happen between you and Bakugo? Back at the bar?” His red eyes cut to yours, so similar to another pair of red eyes that you were trying not to think about, and your mouth immediately went dry. Your mind flailed for a response, but the redhead barreled on. “It’s just… I noticed you came back wearing his jacket after you disappeared, and you seemed a little upset?”

“I did?” The words fell from your mouth unbidden, and you winced. You had thought you got your mask up in time.

“I mean, you were smiling and stuff, but your eyes looked kind of sad,” Kirishima said, frowning down at you. “I just wanted to make sure Bakubro didn’t upset you somehow.”

“N-No, no,” you blurted out, even though your heart was screaming yes. “He… I ran into him coming back from the bathroom. He was outside on the patio. I went to join him— t-to ask if he was coming back to the table— but some guys who were out there smoking started giving me a hard time. But Bakugo chased them off and gave me his jacket since I was cold. H-He said he didn’t want me getting sick and giving the agency a bad rep or something.”

You hoped the reasoning you gave for Bakugo handing over his jacket made sense. It was the only logical explanation you could come up with.

“Oh.” Kirishima blinked and seemed to process your words for a moment. “Well, I’m sorry some assholes were bothering you. You should have said something.”

“It really wasn’t a big deal,” you said dismissively, trying to forget the way your heart had jumped into your throat when those three men surrounded you. “And Bakugo handled it.”

“I’m sure he did,” the redhead muttered, and when you looked up at him, he was smirking.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“Ahhh, nothing.” Kirishima cleared his throat. “Oh, look! We’re here.”

The agency suddenly loomed above you, and Kirishima stopped just in front of the doors. You could see a few sidekicks through the glass doors, the poor bastards who’d pulled the short straw and gotten the night shift on a Saturday, but they were mainly just yawning at their desks or walking back and forth to the coffee machine in the break room.

“Do you want me to walk you up?” Kirishima asked as he moved to open the door.

“No,” you refused, stopping him. “It’s late, and you’re off the clock ‘till Monday. Go home, Red Riot. I can make it up the elevator on my own.”

“Alright, alright.” The hardening hero smiled and held up his hands. “I’ll get going. But… thanks for coming out tonight.”

“I think I’m the one who should be thanking you,” you chuckled, but then a gust of wind wafted the scent of burnt sugar into your nose, and your smiled faded as you cleared your throat and slowly shrugged off the jacket draped over your shoulders. “Actually, could you, um, extend my gratitude to Bakugo as well and give this back to him when you see him next?”

You extended the jacket out to the redhead, but Kirishima just stared at it for a second before shaking his head.

“You’ll probably see him before I do, so keep it for now,” he said. “Bakugo has a shift tomorrow evening, so you can just come downstairs and return it to him then. Or I’m sure he’d be fine with you leaving it in his office.”

The thought of even seeing the blond right now made your stomach flip and your body break out in a cold sweat, but you covered it up with a smile as you clutched the jacket to your chest.

“Oh, okay,” you said, praying your voice wasn’t as shaky as you thought it was. “I’ll just… do that then.”

“Cool.” Kirishima shot you a smile. “Well, I better get going. I can feel the whisky making my eyelids heavy.”

“Do you need to order a car or something?” you asked with a concerned frown.

“Nah, I only live a couple blocks away, I’ll be fine,” he said as he waved you off, and then he jerked his chin at the agency doors. “You should get inside first, though, or I’ll worry that you got snatched the moment I turned my back.”

“I definitely don’t want to get snatched,” you laughed and reached for the door. “Have a good night, Kirishima. Get home safe.”

“Will do.” He grinned, flashing his pointed teeth. “Night, Stitches.”

“Night.” You smiled over your shoulder as you opened the door, and true to his word, the hardening hero waited until you were safe inside the agency lobby before he put two fingers to his forehead in a salute, turned, and walked out of sight.

The moment he was gone, you felt the smile slowly slide off your face. It was hard to be upset in the redhead’s presence, he just exuded so much warmth and happiness, but now that you were alone, clutching Bakugo’s jacket to your chest, all of the thoughts you’d been suppressing came bubbling back up to the surface.

You tried to keep your face composed as your turned and made your way to the elevator. The few dozing sidekicks in the bullpen greeted you halfheartedly, and you waved weakly in return. Then your eyes trailed past them to the darkened, glass walled office that you knew belonged to Bakugo. You considered dropping off the jacket on his desk or chair like Kirishima suggested, just to get it away from you, but then you thought of the sidekicks watching you walk to the office, wondering what you were doing, speculating as to why you had their boss’ jacket, and you abandoned the idea as you jammed your finger into the elevator button.

It was only after the elevator doors closed behind you, only when you were standing alone staring at your fuzzy reflection, that you let the tears come. They quickly blurred your vision, burned in the back of your throat, but you managed to hit the button for your floor and stumbled into your room before you truly started crying. You didn’t know if there were any sidekicks sleeping on this floor, so you forced yourself to be quiet, pressing your lips together and only gasping when you needed air.

You immediately threw the jacket over the back of your desk chair, desperate to get away from the caramelized scent, but you realized it still clung to your dress, your hair. So, with tears streaming down your face, you stripped down to your panties, dropping everything onto the floor, tearing your jewelry off and tossing it onto your desk. You only had enough energy to pull on a hoodie before you collapsed into the bed, and you shivered, still crying, as you tugged the covers up over your head.

Fuck, how could you have been so stupid? You’d done a lot of stupid things in your life, but kissing Dynamight took the cake. The blond had only brought you to the agency for two reasons: insurance purposes and your quirk. He needed a healer, someone to fix his ears so he could keep fighting the good fight. And you were convenient. You needed to stay at the agency anyway while your shop was repaired, so you were supposed to use your quirk in the interim to help him with his problem.

Except now, you were pretty sure you ruined that. Because Bakugo didn’t want you like you wanted him. He made that pretty obvious. So he probably wouldn’t want your help anymore, because who wanted to receive medical care from someone lusting after them inappropriately?

And what if he kicked you out of the agency entirely? You didn’t necessarily have to stay here, the agency just had to pay for your lodgings until your apartment was fixed, so Bakugo could just send you to a hotel first thing in the morning, get you out of his hair for the last week or two.

You knew you couldn’t stay at the agency forever, but you had been telling Kirishima the truth earlier. You liked it here. You liked seeing the sidekicks on a regular basis, liked it when Kirishima poked his head into the kitchen to see what you were cooking. You didn’t want to leave just yet.

So… you would just have to apologize.

Bakugo had a shift tomorrow night, which meant you had over twelve hours to figure out what you were going to say. Then you’d go downstairs, find the blond, return his jacket, and bow your head to the floor to apologize for being so forward and inappropriate and… pitiful.

Hopefully, he would accept it.

You fell asleep sniffling, with your eyes swollen from tears. And because the universe was cruel, you dreamed of ash-blood hair and crimson eyes. Of warm hands around your waist and even warmer lips against your own. In one part of the dream, you were back on that patio, Bakugo looming over you, wrapped around you. His kiss burned like fire, like an iron brand pulled straight from the flames, and you felt the heat consume you. In this dream, neither of you needed to part for air, and Mina didn’t come outside. You both were just suspended in time— lips and tongues and hands— and Bakugo devoured you one biting kiss at a time.

You awoke with your mouth tingling, with the smell of burning sugar in your nose, before reality came crashing back down and pinned you to the bed. The weight on your chest kept you submerged beneath the blankets most of the day, only slightly letting up in the afternoon when your bladder was on the verge of bursting. You dragged yourself to your feet and to the bathroom down the hall, but after relieving yourself, you just shuffled right back to bed. When you checked your phone, you saw it was almost four o’clock, and your stomach rumbled, begging for more than the finger foods you’d had at the bar last night. But you still hadn’t gone grocery shopping, so if you wanted anything more than snacks, you would have to go out, and the thought of potentially running into Bakugo downstairs turned your blood to ice.

You knew you still needed to apologize, but you just… couldn’t bring yourself to do it, so instead you burrowed back under the blankets and turned to face the wall.

You would allow yourself one day to wallow. Then, tomorrow, Monday, you’d shove all your feelings back into a box where they belonged, do the adult thing, and apologize.

Unfortunately, as you should have already learned, things don’t always go to plan.

True to your word, you did get up at dawn the next morning, showered, ate, dressed like a functional human being. You even ran errands, stopping by the shop to see how construction was coming along, picking up some small projects from your clients, doing the grocery run you’d been putting off for so long.

When you returned to the agency around midday, you stopped by the first floor breakroom to fill the fridge with snacks, and the sidekicks immediately flocked to the goodies. Even Kirishima stuck his head into the room to say hi, dressed in his full Red Riot gear. He said he was about to go out on patrol, and the two of you made quick, casual conversation before movement beyond the redhead caught your attention.

Bakugo had stopped a few feet beyond the threshold of the breakroom, also decked out in all his hero gear. You only had a moment to take in the full, imposing figure he cut in his suit before your eyes found his, and the moment they did, the blond’s face hardened into stone. You saw the muscle in his jaw tick as he ground his teeth, but then he spun away and stomped off, even when Kirishima called out after him.

The redhead had rolled his eyes and said the blond was in a mood day, but you knew it was more than that.

He was avoiding you, didn’t want to even see you. And he continued to avoid you for the rest of that day and the following. Whenever you stepped off the elevator, if he was in eyesight, he immediately disappeared, stalking off to the locker or training rooms or darkening the glass walls surrounding his office. He obviously didn’t want to talk to you, and every time he met your eyes and instantly retreated in the opposite direction, your heart squeezed in your chest.

But he hadn’t kicked you out of the agency, so that was something at least.

Mina also helped keep you from spiraling. The pink-haired hero texted you multiple times a day, sometimes just sending a funny picture or meme, other times telling you about a crazy thing that happened on her patrol. She had in fact also added you to a group chat with Kirishima, Sero, and Denki, so you received some messages from them every now and again. Bakugo was technically in the group chat, too— or at least you thought he was, since there was another number listed in the chat, but the number never replied to anything, so you couldn’t be sure. Still, it was nice to get messages from people other than your parents and your elderly customers who struggled with technology. It helped balance out the weight that had grown heavier in your chest with each passing hour.

By Tuesday night, you came to the realization that Bakugo would probably continue ignoring you until you left the agency. You tried to convince yourself that you were fine with this. Soon, your shop would be fixed, and everything would go back to normal. You’d go back to being a seamstress with a slightly illegal side hustle, and it would be like you never met the blond. It wasn’t like you’d been particularly close, anyway. Sure, you were attracted to him physically, but who wouldn’t be? And okay, you admired his tenacity as a pro hero, his bravery and relentlessness in the face of adversity and danger, but so did a lot of other people. It was just… a celebrity crush. You would get over it.

You had to.

“Shit,” you cursed for the umpteenth time in the last half hour, frowning down at the bead of blood crowning your fingertip.

Your quirk washed away the minute pain almost immediately, but you just sighed and set down your needle and thread. You’d been trying to mend a hole in Mr. Fujita’s slacks, but you were too distracted, and if you continued like this, you were going to return the pants with blood stains.

You stretched your back and decided to get up from the little desk you’d been hunched over for the past few hours. Picking your phone up, you realized it was almost eight pm, and your stomach snarled as if to reprimand you. A quick dinner would probably be best, maybe some of the instant ramen you picked up at the store yesterday.

You glanced at the door and then sighed when you realized you would actually have to walk down the hall to make the dinner yourself. The kitchen seemed so far away when you thought about it, so you decided to take a ten minute break on your bed. The hunger would probably be enough to motivate you by then.

Collapsing onto the bed, you picked a social media app at random and then just started scrolling. It kept your interest for a minute or two, but then— because of some of your recent searches— a video of a deaf baby getting a cochlear implant popped up on your feed, and your eyes immediately trailed to the shadow of Bakugo’s jacket hanging from a hook on the inside of your door. From this angle, you could see the sheaf of papers you’d rolled up and stuffed into the inside pocket, and you once again considered just walking downstairs and leaving the jacket in his office. The interns might gossip, but you would probably be gone in a week. You could survive the whispers and looks for that long.

You stared at the jacket for a long moment before you sighed and flicked your eyes back to your phone.

“Coward,” you muttered to yourself and angrily started scrolling again.

You weren’t even paying attention to the posts and videos you scrolled past, but you sure as hell noticed when a loud boom suddenly rattled your windows right before the building trembled slightly around you.

You inhaled sharply as your eyes snapped to the darkened window beside your bed. Your heartrate increased, skipping beats, because that sounded familiar, felt familiar. You slowly went to put your phone down on the bed, but your finger twitched across the screen, swiping to the next video, which happened to be a live news feed.

“— here downtown! Three villains have robbed a nearby bank, and they seem to be giving Dynamight some trouble!”

“Dynamight?” you gasped as you scrambled to pick up your phone.

The camera footage was shaky and cloudy, like there was smoke or dust in the air, and it seemed like the news team was peeking out around the corner of a building. You couldn’t see much through the haze, but then an explosion of light crossed the screen, followed by a boom that you heard through the phone’s speakers and through the glass of your window.

“No,” you breathed as your wide eyes drifted toward the window. Then you propelled yourself to your feet and stood on your tiptoes to look outside. Your room was on one of the higher floors of the agency, and the agency itself was one of the tallest buildings on the block, so you could see at least a block or two from your vantage point.

You craned your neck, holding your breath as you waited for the next explosion, which came a moment later. It was accompanied by another flash of light in your peripherals, and you could just barely see a cloud of dust in the very corner of the window. It seemed like the battle was happening a couple blocks to the right of the agency, and you frantically turned back to the phone in your hand as the newscaster started talking again.

“From what we’re witnessing, one villain seems to have an offensive electric quirk, another turns anything they touch into a sticky sludge, and the third is able to produce bubbles that seem to capture and incapacitate. Dynamight is battling them singlehandedly, after several other heroes— possibly sidekicks from his agency— were trapped by the bubble villain’s quirk.”

The camera quickly panned over a destroyed road that looked like your street had just a week ago. Rubble and pockets of black goo covered the broken pavement, and through the haze of dust or smoke, you could just make out several dome-like shapes with human figures inside them, like a perverse kind of toy from one of those coin machines. The trapped heroes were hammering at the walls surrounding them, but whatever the bubble was made of must have been strong, because the heroes were making no headway.

You snapped your gaze from the phone, to the window, and back again, praying to catch a glimpse of Dynamight’s bright orange suit, but the cameraman was ducking for cover again as another explosion rocked the street, and your heart climbed into your throat.

“Come on, come on,” you muttered as you clutched your phone in sweaty palms. You knew Bakugo was strong, he wouldn’t be Number Two otherwise, but you knew every explosion diminished his hearing, and the booms were starting to become rapid fire.

“Oh my— what is that?” the newscaster suddenly gasped, and a hand cut across the camera, pointing at something off screen. “Is that… is that a child?!”

The footage zoomed in too quickly and took a moment to focus, but then the cloudy outline of a child materialized into being. By size, you would guess he was around six years old, and you could just barely hear him crying over the newscaster’s heavy breathing and the staccato explosions. Then a more high-pitched screaming started, and the camera panned to a mother running out of a nearby alley, trying to reach her baby in the chaos.

What happened next seemed to occur in slow motion.

The camera zoomed out to take in more of the street, and a villain careened onto the screen. He seemed to have been thrown, or maybe he leapt, but he landed on his feet a few yards away from the wailing child, just as the screaming mother threw her arms around him. The villain’s upper lip seemed to curl up in disgust, and then he aimed one of his palms at the mother and son.

A bubble shot out of his hand like a bullet, expanding as it went, but just before it swallowed the wailing duo, an explosion of light and orange color shoved them out of the way.

“No!” you gasped, but it was too late, and you watched helplessly as Bakugo was swallowed by the bubble.

The blond rolled in his round cage until he slammed up against an overturned car, and you saw him shake his head as he climbed back onto his feet. He smacked one of his palms against the bubble, but the wall barely even rippled. Bakugo tried again, his hand glowing slightly orange, but still nothing happened.

“Oh god, Dynamight’s been captured!” the reporter cried out.

Meanwhile, the mother and son were still cowering in the middle of the street, frozen in fear and maybe pain, and the bubble villain was standing over them, smirking in triumph.

He raised his palm again, but your eyes were glued to Bakugo, because he was now standing in the middle of his bubble prison, with both of his own hands extended out in front of him. His mouth was twisted into a snarl, and his palms were wreathed in an orange glow that quickly turned white-hot, right before he reached for the pin on one of his gauntlets.

You suddenly realized what he was going to do.

“Bakugo, no!” you shouted like he could hear you, but it was futile.

The bubble he was trapped in suddenly lit up like the Fourth of July, becoming almost too bright to look at, before it exploded so loudly that the sound from the camera completely cut out.

The footage was nothing but dust and frantic movement for almost thirty seconds, but when it finally cleared, the street was empty. The camera jumped around then, trying to find the villains, Bakugo, but it suddenly settled on the mother and son again.

They were safe and somehow unharmed, half a block down from where they were just a moment ago. Confusion overtook your terror for a moment, but then you saw a flash of red, just before the camera focused on Kirishima, who was standing protectively in front of the mother and son.

Suddenly, the audio returned on the video.

“—Riot! I repeat, Red Riot is now on scene, accompanied by two sidekicks!”

Kirishima looked nothing like the smiling teddy bear that walked around the agency. His face was set in an intimidating scowl, and his massive body seemed even bigger as he glared at the villains off screen. His silhouette was jagged, his muscles— that you knew were harder than steel— sticking out at sharp angles. His bare chest was streaked with dust, but he seemed unharmed, and you felt a brief flash of relief.

But it quickly turned to dread the longer Bakugo was off screen.

Where was he? Had he hurt himself in the explosion?

Before the bile could eat through the base of your throat, a body suddenly flew past the camera, and the cameraman followed it as quickly as he could. The footage settled just as the bubble villain skidded to a stop on the broken asphalt, and then the camera jumped to Bakugo, who was standing in the middle of the road with his teeth bared.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. The blond was alive. He was alive.

“Dynamight seems to be back in action!” the reporter announced. “With Red Riot now on scene, the legendary duo should make quick work of these villains.”

You wanted to believe the reporter, but as the camera zoomed in on Bakugo, you saw the blood dripping from his ears, saw the way he swayed on his feet. Using his quirk to blast out of the bubble had most likely obliterated his eardrums, and you knew that disrupting the fluid in the inner ear resulted in balance problems. The explosive hero was probably fighting terrible vertigo just to stay on his feet.

Would he be able to stay upright long enough to subdue the villains?

You stared at the phone in your hand for one second, two, before you were spinning on your heel. You were in a casual pair of sweats, and you shoved your sockless feet into your sneakers as you grabbed Bakugo’s jacket off the hook, wrenched open your door, and sprinted down the hallway to the stairs.

You just hoped you could get there in time.

#bakugo #bakugou #bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo/reader #bakugo/you #bakugou x you #bakugou x reader #bakugou/reader #bakugou/you #katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugo x you #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo/reader #katsuki bakugo/you #bakugo katsuki/you #bakugo katsuki/reader #bakugo katsuki x you #bakugo katuski x reader #pro hero dynamight #mha #my hero academia #bnha #fanfic

[merlucide]

boys who would do this

gojo, MEGUMI, GETO, ITADORI, inumaki, maki, KIRISHIMA, KAMINARI, BAKUGOU, HAWKS, SANEMI, genya, obanai, KAGEYAMA, SUGAWARA, daichi, akaashi, IWAZUMI, KUROO, OSAMU, HOSHIUMI, TERUSHIMA, SUNA

——————————————————————

is the haikyuu fandom even alive (ﾟ∀ﾟ)?

made January 3rd 2024

#gojo x reader #Megumi x reader #geto x reader #itadori x reader #inumaki x reader #maki x reader #kirishima x reader #kaminari x reader #bakugou x reader #hawks x reader #sanemi x reader #genya x reader #obanai x reader #kageyama x reader #sugawara x reader #daichi x reader #akaashi x reader #iwazumi x reader #Kuroo x reader #osamu x reader #hoshiumi x reader #terushima x reader #jjk x reader #mha x reader #kny x reader #hq x reader #suna x reader

[sinfulpanda16]

He loves it when you sit on his back when he's doing pushups.

This almost never happens but when it does, he loves how it makes him feel like he's the strongest man for you. You're sitting on his back looking all cute and pretty counting his reps for him and although his diligence to going all the way down and pushing himself back up is causing him sweat he can't help but smile when he hears you giggling up there.

When he's done he'd give you a gentle kiss, "Thank you baby." and will probably want to keep you around to show off his muscles and strength some more. "Wanna help me with the rest of my workouts?" he asks smirking.

"Yes" you respond with a cute smile.

He picks you up and sits you on a counter nearby. He gives you another gentle kiss "Just keep being my cute cheerleader." he orders with a smirk.

Bakugou Katsuki, Shinsou Hitoshi, Kunigami Rensuke, Reo Mikage, Kuroo Tetsurou, Bokuto Koutarou, Gojo Saturou, Fushiguro Toji, Eren Yeager, Kyo Sohma, Ryo Kurokiba, Draken

#bakugou x reader #shinsou x reader #kunigami x reader #reo x reader #kuroo x reader #bokuto x reader #gojo x reader #toji x reader #eren x reader #kyo x reader #food wars x reader #mha x reader #aot x reader #jjk x reader #blue lock x reader #haikyuu x reader #ryo kurokiba #draken x reader

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

you’ve been katsuki’s for as long as you can remember.

sure, he had never outwardly called you his girlfriend, but when you were both seven years old, he came up to you. chest heaving slightly from running up and down the hill where he had gotten you a freshly plucked out bouquet of flowers. the roots were still clinging to them and he got dirt all over your hands from forcibly grabbing them and shoving the bouquet in them before you could even form a sentence.

“since you accepted the flowers, you’re mine now.” he mumbled, his little hands tightened into fists at his sides and chubby cheeks a cute shade of pink, staring at you as confidently as he could.

a grin grows on his face when you respond with a simple “okay !” and a bright smile. the grin on his face never disappears even as his mom scolds him for getting you both all dirty.

you were katsuki’s in middle school too, when the boys in class decided to play kiss, marry, kill and he had somehow gotten dragged into it. the girls in your class tried their best to seem uninterested, claiming the boys were being childish, but you noticed how hard some of them were straining their ears trying to hear what the guys were talking about in their own little corner of the room. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little curious as well.

katsuki was as ruthless as you’d known him to be, choosing to kill any girl that wasn’t to his liking, which ended up being all of them. much to the other boys’ chagrin, claiming he had no taste.

then your name was brought up.

at that, his eyes widened and he turned in his seat to see if you were watching. you had never turned your head away so fast in your life and you were pretty sure you heard something go “crack”.

he clicked his tongue. mumbling something about how stupid the game was before muttering out a “kiss yn, marry yn and kill that other bitch.” before getting up and stomping away, claiming he had to go to the bathroom followed closely by the whoops and hollers of his two friends behind him.

you both made eye contact when he walked out and you think you’ll never forget how red his cheeks were.

you were katsuki’s when he was the one to walk you to and from school everyday, claiming you would somehow get lost without him. you were katsuki’s when he had begrudgingly shoved homemade valentines day chocolates into your arms, mumbling something about how you had been upset nobody had gotten you anything last year, conveniently leaving out the fact he had scared off all the other guys trying to offer you anything.

you were katsuki’s when he grabbed your hand during the winter because he said you’d “end up dying of hypothermia with the way you’re chittering over there.” and you were his when you were the only person he laughed around. loud, genuine laughter that you and only you could squeeze out of him. you were katsuki’s when he randomly kissed you goodnight at your door one night and he’s been doing it ever since, and gets all pouty when you turn away from his kisses to tease him.

“are we dating ?” you had asked him. you’re both in high school now and you’re in his dorm room. your legs are on his lap and he’s got a comfortable grip on your leg, which tightens after he registers your questions “hah?” he looks utterly confused and a little insulted as he looks back at you, his entire face scrunched up in confusion. you pinch his nose and he swats at your hand.

“are we dating ? like—am i your girlfriend.” you say again and katsuki’s face scrunches up even harder. he huffs and looks back at his phone, landing a little smack on your leg still placed in his lap. “ ‘course yer my fuckin’ girlfriend.” he spits out, obviously irritated. then he looks back at you “I haven’t made it obvious ?” he says sarcastically. one of his eyebrows lifted as he pokes at your leg still very much in his lap.

you simply shrug “s’not that. it’s just because you’ve never actually asked me out before, so i was a little confused on where we stood.” you mumble. he stares at you while you speak and he stares a little longer before sighing. then he leans towards you and flicks your forehead.

“ow !”

“dumbass.” he murmurs. there’s a slight pout on his face and his cheeks are light shade of pink when he looks you in the eyes again. he grabs both your cheeks with one hand and smushes them together to push your lips out and presses multiple wet kisses onto them that have you squealing and squirming. his wet lips are pulled into a smirk when he pulls back and you try your best to at least look a little angry, you really do. but it’s useless when he looks at you like that.

“of course you’re my girlfriend” he reiterates. his smirk’s been replaced for something softer, something more sincere as he gazes at you with so much unadulterated affection it makes your head spin a little. “you’ve always been mine.” he says it in a teasing tone and his hand is still smushing your cheeks out and it hurts a little but his eyes are still the same. they’re warm and soft and so, so enamored with you and only you.

when he finally let’s go of your face and pulls you fully into his lap, you realize katsuki’s been yours for as long as you’ve been his.

you smile brightly at him but turn your nose up when he leans in to kiss you again. “i still haven’t heard what i wanna hear though, mr. bakugou.”

he rolls his eyes and pinches at your thigh as he mumbles out a “don’t call me that.” sighing, he looks at you intensely and you suddenly feel very shy.

“will you be my girlfriend, ya shitty girl ?” and he says it as a joke, you both know it is cus his lips are already forming into a smirk the second he finishes his sentence. and you’re pulling at his nose the moment you register it, but you’re both smiling hard. he laughs and you’re sure you’ll never get tired of the sound. “what’s your answer, pretty ?” he asks playfully and you pretend to really think it over just to mess with him, and giggling out a “yes!” when he suddenly pounces on you. flipping you both over and tickling you mercilessly, calling it revenge for you “taking too damn long to answer.”

you’d been katsuki’s for as long as you can remember, and you hope you can be forever.

#just a silly little thing i wrote in record time in the bus #i love him sm yall dont get him like i do #just silly boyfriend katsuki tingz #him n my oc r childhood friends in my canon so thats why i made this #i love my boyfriend #I didn’t know how to end this one either #bakugou katuski x reader #katsuki bakugo fluff #bakugo fluff #bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou drabble #bakugou fluff #bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x female reader #bakugo x oc

[katsukiizmoon]

╰┈➤ ꒰🍓💌🌶 ┊Katsuki fucks like he can’t live w out you

『♡』 unprotected sex, spitting in mouth, cum eating, pussy licking, creampie, squirting, f!reader, reader has acrylics, biting

Katsuki fucks like he’s going to die without you. His hands shake despite his rough grip on your hips, yanking you down onto his cock. You gasp and moan every time he does it, fingers desperately searching for something to grip onto.

His mouth finds yours, tongue invading your mouth, like he’s hungry. It’s like he’s trying to devour you. He wants to take your soul and keep it. Make it his- make you his.

“Fuck fuck fuck-“ He gasps, face tingling and shaking with pleasure.

Your pussy is squelching, frothing at the base as slick juices run between the two of you. His thick hand reaches to your jaw, thumb pushing between the plush of your lips.

He pries your mouth open and spits, a long string of saliva drizzling into your mouth. Your head throws back against the mattress and you squeal. The coil in your stomach begins to grow taut.

Your hand reaches to blond hair, tugging him lower and you push his spit back into his mouth with your tongue. He groans into the kiss before pulling back.

Katsuki snatches a pillow from his side of the bed, hooking his arm under your knees to lift your ass. It’s placed under your lower back and he shoves your knees to your shoulders, folding you in half.

The angle makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. Thick, hot, heavy dick slamming into you with long strokes. He’s got to be in your stomach- you can feel it. The head pushes against the spongey spot inside you and squirt gushes from your pussy onto the both of you.

“Give it to me, y’feel like- oh-“ Katsuki babbles, watching you frantically nod your head.

Your pussy clenches around him and he’s on cloud nine. Acrylic nails dig into his shoulders, your teeth clamp down on the side of his throat. It’s raw- needy and desperate.

He can’t get enough of you. Stray hair sticks to the side of his face, sweat beads at the nape of his neck. His muscles are almost sore from fucking into your tight cunt. And he can’t stop.

He’s addicted. You begin rambling between moans and gasps, telling him filthy things. How he’s god, that you’re in love with him, no one’s gonna ever compare. And the coil in your tummy snaps.

Because he presses his cock against that special spot and stays. As much as it pains him he doesn’t move, waiting. And you explode, clear juice spurting from your pussy and all over his cock and pillow.

Your head throws back and you scream, tears beginning to form in the corners of your eyes. He’s the closest to heaven he’ll ever be when you tell him to cum inside you.

And god, he does. His fingers dig into the plush of your thigh and he clamps his jaw, teeth marking your shoulder. His hips stutter and he slams his length into you. His entire body goes taught and he fills you. Katsuki starts whining at the thought of what he’s doing.

He can feel his cock head pressed against your cervix now. If there was a way, he’d go further. But for now his cum fills your pussy, drenching the inside of your walls. He pushes your hips up.

“Don’t let it out, fuck- don’t.” Katsuki rasps, fingers running through his hair to move it out of the way.

He laps at your pussy and you squirm in his grip. He’s slurping his own cum out of you like it’s his last meal on this god forsaken earth. Licking at the squirt on your ass, his white ropes, sucking at your clit. You buck up and fuck into his mouth a bit, trying to ride his tongue and escape all the same.

You cum like that, shaking and writhing. He leaves a smack to your ass and shoves his cock back into you, fucking the cum that’s left back in. He’s got one more in him.

You get flipped over to your chest, where his cock is bullying that same spot again. And you just can’t stop squirting. It’s everywhere. The bed is soaked, you’re soaked, he’s soaked.

He finishes in you again after you’re drooling all over the bed and desperately begging for it. He thinks about another round. He doesn’t know how long he can go without you.

Cause to him you put the stars in the sky and your pussy tastes better than water to a man dying of dehydration.

#<3 I’m ovulating teehee #gochujang #boba time #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo smut #bakugou smut #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x yn #bakugo x you #bakugou self insert

[ryukatters]

bf!bkg ignoring you because you won’t call him baby or handsome or whatever nickname you usually call him

“Katsuki— have you seen my charger? I can’t find it anywhere.”

You call out as you make your way down the hall from your bedroom. Your boyfriend is sitting on the couch, having a rotting party all by his lonesome to really live out his day off. It’s a rare occurrence for him to be so inactive, but you surmise even pro heroes can be lazy every once in a while.

“Kats?”

Still nothing. You know for a fact that he can hear you, because you can see the way he subconsciously perks up the minute you say something. Definitely charming, but not enough to quell the growing mix of irritation and worry (mostly worry) brewing inside the pits of your stomach.

You make your way across the living room, standing in front of his place on the couch. He’s still not looking at you. No matter, you just decide to straddle him instead. His hands automatically find purchase on your hips, fingers just a few millimeters shy of your ass.

“Katsuki. What’s wrong?”

“Dunno who that is,” he huffs, head turning to the side so you can’t see the way his lips quirk down into a pout. (Because he swears up and down that’s something he never does.)

“Kats?”

“No.”

“‘Suki?”

“Close, but still no.”

“Baby?”

“Yeah, baby?”

"Have you seen my charger, handsome?"

"In your desk drawer on the right."

You smile. You press an innocent kiss to the tip of his nose. He pulls you flush against him before you can pull away, capturing your lips with his, appreciating the way the two of you meld against each other. He tries not to look too disappointed when you lift yourself off him and stand up. You lean down to give him a fleeting kiss on the cheek.

"Love you, Katsuki."

"Think you've got the wrong guy, sweetheart."

#you can act tough all you want but i see through your lies kacchan #in honor of the latest chapter #bkg liking nicknames confirmed!! #he just wants to be babied but he’d honestly rather choke before admitting that #i lied i posted about bkg first 😔 #kat’s writing #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo fluff #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fluff #bnha fluff

[sugarlywhispers]

the sudden thought of bakugou katsuki sending an audio to his s/o while at the gym, where he speaks IN BETWEEN GASPS AND GRUNTS AND EVEN GROWLS BECAUSE OF THE AMOUNT OF WEIGHT HE'S LIFTING WHILE ALSO TALKING ABOUT WHAT YOU WOULD LIKE FOR DINNER AND SUGGESTING MEALS OR PLEACES TO GO IF YOU WANT AND THEN HE SAYS, "Ugh... whatever you... mmh... want, baby, it's yours..." AND HE EXHALES FUCKING SEXILY AS THE SOUND OF THE WEIGHT DROPPING IS HEARD.

— I'M DYING HELP.

#DON'T @ ME #I DON'T KNOW WHERE THIS CAME FROM #I EVEN HATE WHEN MEN DO ALL THOSE SOUNDS AT THE GYM #BUT THEN... #BAKUGOU KATSUKI #AND THE THOUGHT WAS: FUCK YEAH HE WOULD DEF SOUND SO FREAKING SEXYYYYYY #okay ill stop now goodnight #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #mha bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #mha smut #bnha smut #mha imagines #mha headcanons #mha scenarios #bnha scenarios #bnha imagines #mha bakugo katsuki

[crappycamille]

katsuki is always so careful when he fucks you.

it’s more about the fear of himself than is about you being fragile. he knows you’re strong, but it’s just, he becomes so… unhinged when it comes to you.

it’s the way you milk him, he thinks. it’s the way your creamy walls suck him in—aching to be filled by him— before he even has the chance to fully submerge his tip. he swears he gets high off your pussy.

it’s why he has to be careful.

he’s not fully conscious. he gets easily lost in that blissful yet oh-so desperate state… dangerously so. he doesn’t want to hurt his precious baby. so he’s careful. he tries his very best to control himself. for katsuki is a strong man and he knows how easily his baby bruises.

but you’re never one to make things easy on him, are you? he admires that about you most of the time, but you just don’t realize how dangerous you can be, do you?

you’re simply ignorant to it. yes, that’s it! you have to be. it’s the only explanation.

why else would you be taking katsuki’s hand in your own as he’s fucking you (carefully, of course). you’re desperately grasping to take control of his arm as he now has to shift his weight to keep his pace and position. he curiously obliges you. how could he not, especially when you’re this fucked out already.

you drag his hand up along your body until his hand is at the base of your throat. it’s when he feels your hands squeeze around his and a satisfied moan escapes your lips that he truly grasps what you’re doing. you want to be choked.

the realization has a guttural moan leaving his lips as he feels his balls tighten at your debaunched behavior. he picks up the pace, sloppily thrusting into your greedy cunt as the hand choking you grips you like no other.

he can’t control it. he’s squeezing so hard you’re sure there will be bruises to have to explain later. but you don’t care. you’re seeing stars right now. you both are.

warbly moans leave the both of you in harmonious bliss. katsuki swears you’ll be the death of him as he struggles to breathe by the sheer magnitude of his climax. but what does such a trivial matter like breathing mean to him? to either of you?

you’re both far too gone in the highly intoxicating drug that is love.

#tw: choking #tw: bad grammar lol #bakugou thoughts #bakugo x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou drabble #heheheh <3

[the-massive-simp]

gignatic bf using tiny gf as a fleshlight? streching her inside wide open.

omg this idea is so good, thank you anon for sharing this! I hope you like this♡

warnings: nsfw. no pronouns or anatomy mentioned for reader.

♡requests open♡

He lowers you on his fat cock, his muscular arms holding your waist because he knows you won't have the strength to bounce on his dick on your own. He's so thick that you feel split in two, stretched to your limit, but it feels too good to tell him to stop. He slowly increases the pace, moving you faster on his dick, using you as his special fleshlight. You moan shamelessly, too lost in the moment to think about anything that isn't him or his dick or the immense amount of pleasure he's giving you. He moves one of his hands on your abdomen, rubbing it slightly.

"Look at it love, I'm so deep inside of you. Can you feel me filling you up completely?"

He presses the hand on the bulge that his enormous dick is creating in you. It feels so good that the knot that was growing in your belly snaps and you come undone on his cock.

"Aw my pretty baby is already cumming? You're so good for me darling, so good"

He then lifts you off his cock almost completely and then he slams you back down. You feel him twitching, and you know he's getting closer to his orgasm. He repeats the movements again and again, making you cry out his name from the oversimulation. He shushes you and he keeps fucking you, murmuring sweet praises in your ear. You feel him twitch before he shoots thick ropes of cum in you. He keeps you still on his cock while he empties his balls in you, kissing your neck and pinching your nipples.

"My sweet baby you did so good... but we're not done yet"

He flips you over, his big, strong body engulfing your smaller one. He leans down to kiss you passionately before bringing your legs over his shoulders. He starts to pound in your hole, the strength of his thrusts making you cling to his back, slightly scratching him with your nails. You know it's gonna be a long night.

#genshin impact x reader smut #diluc smut #kaeya smut #itto smut #zhongli smut #childe smut #dainsleif smut #not genshin but shh who cares #gojo smut #nanami smut #bakugou smut #erwin smut #eren smut #reiner smut #jean smut #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #attack on titan smut #my hero academia smut #cyno smut #alhaitham smut #kaveh smut #kai sins<3

[thatnewweeb]

Bakugo Katsuki was always insecure about his hands, even if he’d never admit it.

At the start of your relationship, whenever you walked anywhere together, he’d shove his hands deep into his pockets, never giving you any chance to grab his hand.

They’re very rough, they have to be to withstand his Quirk, and he thinks you would hate it. They aren’t comfortable to hold, they might even hurt a little.

Even worse is his overactive sweat glands on his palms. The thought that you might grab his hand and be disgusted by what you felt scared him.

When you asked to hold hands, he told you he didn’t want to, that it was uncomfortable, that he didn’t like any kind of public affection, any excuse to get out of letting you touch his hands.

You always thought it was strange though. After all, he had no problem holding your hand on the way back to the locker rooms after training, even though that was just as public, and surely he would find that uncomfortable too. Sometimes he’d even hold your hand while on dates after coming back from the bathroom.

It took a while for you to realise that he would only hold your hand when he had just cleaned his hands, or if he was wearing thick gloves. When that realisation finally hit you, you figured out why he wouldn’t hold your hands often, even when it seemed clear he wanted to.

After that realisation, you quickly grabbed his hand before he had chance to stuff it into his pocket after class, on the walk back to your dorm building.

He immediately tried to pull his hand away, afraid of your reaction, but you just held on, smiling up at him, acting completely casual. When he realised you weren’t saying anything, he let himself relax a little, but he stays tense.

You talk just like normal on the way back to the dorms, making him relax even more, enjoying having your hand in his, like he’s been wanting since the start.

When he understands that you don’t care about his hands being the way they are, he relaxes completely.

From that day on, he’s constantly got your hand in his.

#bakugo #bakugou #bakugou katsuki #my hero academia #mha #my hero academia fanficiton #mha fanfiction #bakugo katuski #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugo drabble #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha #boku no hero academia #bakugo x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugou fluff

[azzo0]

"Katsuki!" You called from the bedroom, lying on your stomach as you read a romance novel. You'd just seen a line you read a handful of times in other romance novels. It was a line that managed to make you smile like an idiot, with butterflies dancing in your stomach.

"What?" He yelled from the living room, where he repaired one of his gauntlets.

"C'mere for a sec," you got up with the book, and Katsuki walked into the room shirtless with a little grease on his chest and arms. Even better for your request. 

"What the fuck? You just called me in, and now yer pushin' me away?" He knitted his eyebrows when you pushed him out of the room.

"Katsuki, can you do this?" You handed him the book, and he took it, looking down at the page in confusion. 

"A lot is goin' on here, sweets. I'm a hero, not an actor." He said, cherry eyes scanning the page. 

"Oh, come on! I'm sure you can do this one." You pointed at the line, and he brought it closer to his face, reading it out loud, his eyebrows raising amusedly. 

"I looked up from my work when I heard the door open to see William. He stood in the doorway, one of his hands on the header above him. "Hey," he greeted-" Katsuki stopped to look at you, "I don't see what you want me to do? Stand in the door and say hi?"

"No, no. You're supposed to do what William did," you explained, demonstrating what you meant by showing him, even though your hand wouldn't reach for the header, "Get it?" 

"Hah? What's so special about it in the first place?" He asked, flipping the book shut and giving it back to you. 

"It's just sexy, okay?" You huffed, "I've read similar lines in many other books, and I just wanna know what it would be like when you do it."

"Fine," he grumbles, "Stand inside."

You happily skipped inside while he stood outside. He took a step closer and stood in the doorway. He brought his hand up and held the doorframe, thick bicep flexing in the process, revealing a few blond hair in his pit. He leaned closer to you, snaking a calloused hand to your back, roughly pulling you closer.

"This what ya wanted, hm?" He whispered into your ear, sending tingles down your spine. He smirked at your flustered state and snuck a peck to your lips. 

He chuckled at your stupor and turned around to leave. He glanced back, a triumphant smirk on his lips, "Let me know if there's somethin' else that William dude does. I can do it better than him anyway~"

#okay now i can sleep in peace #GOOD NIGHT #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugo x reader

[csmtmra]

imagine walking up to katsuki during winter training and just putting his hand up your shirt because he’s a walking heater.

“what’re you doin?” he would ask confused, looking around hoping no one was watching the bizarre interaction.

“heat.” you would say, while grabbing onto his hero costume and pulling him into you so you can shove your face into his chest. Laughing and pulling his glove off of his hand while he tugs it away with a tiny smile. “give my hand back”

“oh you’re hand??” he would ask lowly while holding in a laugh, pushing his hand towards your face while heating it up.

“ahhh my walking heater” you would say pressing his hand into your face harder, trying to get as much heat as you possibly can.

“yeah yeah” he would say while setting his head atop of yours and wrapping his other hand under your shirt and rubbing your back.

#bakugou katsuki x reader #my hero academia #mha x reader #bakugou x reader #fluff #x reader #bnha #mha #bakugou katsuki #csmtmra

[aakeysmash]

Katsuki just needs you to lay your eyes on him to get hard.

You can be sleepy and looking up at him with your eyes half open and he gets a boner.

Roughed up in the morning, teeth still not brushed and you just peek at him from one eye before snuggling into his open arms? He’s getting a boner.

Maybe you’re moaning with his food in your mouth while complimenting how good of a cook he is with sparkling eyes, and his blood rushes straight to his dick.

And it’s not always because he wants to fuck you, even if he does have a super high sex drive and would bend you over 4 times a day if you’d let him.

Sometimes it’s just because his heart skips a beat while thinking about how softly only you know how to look at his soul, even behind all his rough exterior.

#this is literally boss!​bakugo from my barista au #just wait until they finally get together amd theyll be like this #bakugou katsuki #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo smut #bakugou x reader #bnha #bakugou smut #bakugo fluff #soft bakugou #drabbles

[woahjo]

APHRODISIAC! (Bakugou x Reader)

masterlist 

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Summary: Katsuki gets hit with an aphrodisiac quirk. You decide to check in on him. What could go wrong?

Chapter Content Warnings:  fem!reader, dubcon, smut, porn with little to no plot, aphrodisiac quirks, quirkless reader, prohero!katsuki, rough sex, borderline free use, biting, creampie, multiple orgasms (fem!receiving), masturbation, edging (kinda), manhandling, katsuki is dominant but also not idk he's desperate, possessiveness, overstimulation, size kink, scent kink, some light aftercare! woo hoo!, friends to lovers sort of

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: yeah ik this isn't what i typically write but idk where this came from. i had a thought and it spiraled bad and now i have this. there is no deeper message. there is no meaning. i wrote this to make him FUCK and be kinda weird and desperate and pathetic about it. i needed to see him physically overpower us while also so desperate that it makes him look stupid. i feel violent. this bad boy is not going on ao3 lol. anyway, enjoy, heed the warnings.

Katsuki paces around the one bedroom apartment he rents in downtown Musutafu. His skin is tingling. Every nerve he has burns like it's been set on fire, needing some sort of touch to soothe it. His cock aches between his legs, hard and leaking against the side of his thigh. Katsuki grits his teeth, running his hands over his hair and then letting his palms slide down the sides of his exposed biceps. 

Sweat collects on his skin, the kind that comes from desperation or maybe a fever, and he feels it on his palms when he lets them drop to his sides and clenches his fists. Fuck, he can't believe he got hit with a non-fatal quirk and had to be sent home. It's humiliating. What's worse is that it hasn't worn off yet, rendering him completely useless. 

He sits on his couch, his legs spread wide, and leans back against the couch cushions, wincing as he reaches to unbutton his pants. He's never been this sensitive in his life and it almost hurts to grab his cock and pull it from his pants. Katsuki watches it twitch for a moment, rigid between his legs and leaking pre-cum from its angry tip. He doesn't even have to think about anything in particular, he's just turned on. Unbearably so. 

Katsuki wraps his hand around the base of his cock and jerks upward once, sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth at his own sensitivity. Then, the desperation sets in fully and he squeezes the head of his cock with a wince and a low groan before beginning to slide his hand up and down. He pauses to spit into his palm, desperate for some sort of relief from the tension weaving its way through his body, his hand moving faster and fast over this dick. Katsuki only pauses when he touches his overly sensitive head, swallowing down an audible moan as he moves his hips to desperately fuck his fist. 

He tries not to think of the humiliation in this, instead focusing on chasing a high that seems to get farther and farther. He stays like this for a while, desperately fucking his fist with low groans and whines. His face is completely flushed, sweat beading on his brow and forehead, covering every inch of his skin with a pathetic, glowing sheen. God, he's almost fucking angry. The frustration, the sheer desperation for release, is making it difficult to control his temper and he knots his free hand into the soft pillow beside him, raising it to his face and using it to cover his head so he can be a little louder. 

He's desperately humping his fist when his doorbell rings. At first, it's only once and Katsuki thinks he can ignore it, but then it comes again, five more times and consistently more aggressive. 

"Katsuki?" your voice calls through the wood paneling of his door. "I heard you got hit with a quirk and sent home. Let me in." 

He furrows his eyebrows at the irony of the last person in the world he wants to encounter at a time like this. Pretty, quirkless, you. His long time friend and recent dispatcher at his agency. Someone he secretly wants to fuck even without the aphrodisiac quirk floating through his bloodstream. You really get under his skin. You’re exactly his type, right down to that annoying little attitude of yours that drives Katsuki insane. Of course, he's always respected your friendship a little too much to do anything about it, but tonight, he doesn't think he'll be able to and he sits in silence with his lip caught between his teeth while he fucks his fists and hopes you'll go away. 

"I know you're in there," you call again. "I can see the light on." 

You bang three times on the door and then ring the doorbell again, pushy and insistent the way you always are. A match for his stubborn attitude. 

Katsuki swears and stands up, his hands shaking as he tucks his sensitive cock back into his sweatpants and flips the head up into his waistband with a hiss. 

The crazy thing is, he can literally smell you through the door. The scent of you, that sweet and rounded perfume you wear, wafts under the crack of his apartment door. He pauses outside of it, resisting the temptation to open it, to welcome that smell into his apartment and use you to relieve the aching in his cock and lower belly. 

"Katsuki?" You ask, a little quieter now. 

Jesus fucking christ, don't call his name like that. 

He swings the door open, letting his hand rest on the side of it so that it is positioned above his head. You look taken aback at his appearance, covered in sweat and flushed from the neck up, his chest exposed and heaving. 

"What?" he says, looking you up and down. 

Katsuki bites back the urge to yank you in. Why is it he can literally smell the sweat on your body and every prick of your emotions? It's like he can tell exactly what you're thinking, or maybe it's what he wants you to be thinking. 

"Don't get on my ass about me still technically needing to be at work," you start, stepping forward. "I heard something happened and I just came to check and you look like shi-" 

Katsuki blocks you from coming in with his body. You stumble backwards lightly and raise your eyebrow at him. There's a pause as you register that you've just run into a solid wall of muscle, sweat covered and glistening, while Katsuki eyes you like you're meat on a platter. He knows he's doing it, but he can literally smell every turn of your scent, soft and sweet. And he may be fooling himself... but are you... turned on? 

"Let me in?" you say with a small laugh, side stepping to go around him. He blocks you again, his fingers gripping the door frame so hard that his knuckles are white. 

"Go home," he says quietly, his voice tense. 

"What? No," you furrow your eyebrows at him. "What's the matter with you?" 

You duck under his arm and place your hand momentarily on his chest. Your touch makes him tingle all over and he sucks in a sharp breath. 

"I'm not fucking around," he says. 

"Okay, me neither," you respond with a bit of an attitude. "I expected you to be worse for wear but you look like crap. Like you're... I don't know." 

You trail off a little. 

"Let me help," you say, shaking off whatever thought had come over you. "I'll make you some food." 

"Look, no offense, but I don't think you want to help me with this," he says, a frustrated bite in his voice. Food isn't exactly what he's hungry for. 

"That's too bad," you say slowly, seemingly put off by the desperate air about him and settling into his kitchen. You move to open the fridge.

Katsuki walks up to you quickly, taking your wrist from the door and holding it between the two of you. Cool air hits his exposed chest and arm as the door falls shut again. 

"I'm dead serious. Get the fuck out of here or I'm gonna do something I regret," he hisses through a clenched jaw. Your skin is warm on the pads of his fingers, wrist held flush against his palm. He bites back a genuine shudder. 

Your eyes are wide as you look back at him, glancing between where he's caught your wrist by your head and his eyes. Katsuki's gaze roams over your face, pausing as he hits the top of your blouse where a few buttons remain open. When he returns his eyes to yours, your mouth moves to open before a heady understanding settles over your features. You're so pretty. Everything about you is pretty, so delightful and delicate. Your eyes look glassy and wide. Katsuki has always found them tempting, but today he can't stop himself. 

He leans forward and kisses you, holding your wrist to his chest as his mouth comes messily into contact with yours. You squeak and freeze and it takes all he has to pull away from you. 

"Go home," he says again, his lips tingling. Katsuki feels the color creep onto his cheeks, his hand still holding your wrist. 

You don't say anything, looking at him with those pretty eyes. He swallows thick and feels the saliva drag against his throat. Then, his mouth dries completely, his expression twisting into discomfort as his cock throbs between his legs as the scent of you takes on a sharper turn. He's never felt anything like this before, something animal. 

Katsuki tightens his jaw, staring at you for a moment. Then, he takes a step towards you. You take one back, though he doesn't feel like you're afraid. Rather, you tilt your head down to look at him through your lashes. He lets out a breath through his teeth and walks you back until your ass hits the counter, his free hand coming to gingerly touch your waist. You inhale when he leans in to kiss you again, screwing your eyes shut and reaching to grab at his shoulder to pull him closer. 

Every touch tingles. It burns and he drops your wrist to manhandle your hips. You suck on his bottom lip, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to you. He ruts his hips against yours, desperate for any sort of friction to relieve the ache, and you gasp a little and let your mouth fall open. Katsuki takes the opportunity to bite down hard on your lip with a low groan, slipping his tongue into your mouth as the pads of his fingers press harshly into you. You whine, eyebrows pulling up. 

Katsuki’s eyes are slightly open, just so that he can look at you. Every aspect of his senses feel heightened and the relief of your mouth far surpasses that of his hand over his throbbing cock only minutes earlier. 

He pants, taking your hips and lifting you onto the counter so that you’re seated, pulling away for just a moment to lift the hem of your shirt and expose your breasts. Katsuki puts his face on the pillowy tops of them, biting and sucking at the exposed skin as his hand teases its way up the skin of your back to unclasp it. He thinks you’re probably looking at him, but if you are, he doesn’t have the mind to care about what sort of behavior he’s exhibiting. He can practically smell how wet you are from just a little touching and if he weren’t so fucking desperate for a little relief, he’d tease you for a few hours just to watch your pussy drool over him. 

The cool air of his apartment hits your exposed nipples. Katsuki takes it upon himself, without even a second thought, to roll the hard bud under his tongue. He feels the way goosebumps rise on your skin, his hands coming to rest over the tops of your thighs. Katsuki bites lightly on your breast and you fucking whine at it, tipping your head back and rooting your hand into the tufts of his blonde hair. 

His cock jumps in his pants and he’s no doubt leaked enough to leave an evident wet spot against the gray of his sweatpants. He stands to his full height, pushing your skirt up and pressing the outline of his cock to your crotch. Heat bleeds through your panties, the kind that makes him feel like he’s going absolutely fucking insane. You gasp, putting your hands on his shoulders and pulling him close again. 

Katsuki’s mouth hits yours messily, breathing hard as he ruts his hips up against your crotch, pulling you forward on the counter so he can feel as much of the pillowy folds of your pussy through the thick fabric as possible. You let him take your bottom lip between his teeth, sharp canines digging into the wet flesh of your mouth. He whines— high-pitched, desperate sound—as you position your hips to press your crotch against the head of his cock. His head falls onto your chest, forehead resting against the hollow of your throat. Katsuki humps at you, pulling you against him to match the rhythm of his hips, grinding your clothed cunt over the bulge of his cock. It’s a desperate motion, completely subconscious as he lets the quirk he’s been hit with take the lead.

His fingers dip into the crease of your thigh, fumbling as they reach for the waistband of the panties you’re wearing. Katsuki’s desperation is so palpable that he finds himself panting as he slips his fingers into the sides of your underwear, yanking them down. You gasp at the force of it and he swears he hears a small tear as he pulls them from your cunt, the crotch sticking to the lips of your pussy. 

He leans his hips forward again, sliding his cock between your folds with a deep grunt. His mouth finds your neck and he bites along the side of it, lathing his tongue over your pulse point. It’s like he can taste you. Salt and that stupid perfume, collecting on his tongue as you dig your fingers into his back, his dick rutting restlessly against your clit. At one point, he almost slips in, his eagerness and your wetness making him careless. Katsuki sucks in a breath through his teeth, his whole body on fire. 

The kitchen light shines down on his back and he can see the outline of part of his shadow on your thighs as he stares down at them, guiding the tip of himself to your entrance. He hears you wine when he presses against it and moves his hand down subconsciously to rub at your clit. An attempt to ease the stretch. 

You tip your head back in a moan and Katsuki takes the opportunity to kiss your neck before settling his teeth against your shoulder and biting down harshly on the muscle connecting your neck and arm. You yelp at the sensation and Katsuki shutters at the sound, willing out a choked I’m sorry as he slides into your wetness. His hands push into the delightfully soft flesh of your upper thighs, the fat spilling up around each individual digit as he uses your legs for leverage, sliding you forward even further to better seat you on him. 

Your legs are shaking and he can feel the way your nails dig into his exposed shoulder blades. Your bunch up skirt causes the fat of your tummy to fold over in a way that practically makes Katsuki drool. He urges himself to pause, attempting to come back to his senses as the quirk kicks into high gear. There’s relief in being inside of you, in feeling the flutter of your walls around his thick cock, but it also makes him desperate. Katsuki feels like he’s chasing something that he was desperately and it’s just out of his reach. 

You’re breathing heavily above him, he can see the rise and fall of your chest from where his head hangs down, his hands trembling on the tops of your thighs. He looks up at you through his lashes, his vision foggy around the edges as if he were peering through a tube. You’re at the end of it, your eyes glassy and mouth open, returning the look. Your eyebrows are knitted up in pleasure, but you almost seem confused. 

“What are you waiting for?” You breathe out, the first thing you’ve said since he started touching you. 

The tone of your voice is needy, with a delightful whiny lilt that makes him groan out loud. He can barely manage the words that come out next, his brain half mush, and he feels the way his cock jumps inside of you. 

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” he says through gritted teeth, his breath coming heavy. 

There’s a pause and he feels the distinct sensation of you squeezing down around his cock, like the idea turns you on. 

“Use me,” you respond cautiously, your voice still containing that needy lilt. 

Katsuki’s hips fuck up into you voluntarily and he feels the way his breath catches in his throat at the near desperate sound of your voice.

“Say that again.” 

“Use me, Katsuki,” you respond, choking on your words as he fucks his hips up into you. 

You reach for his face, taking it in your hands and drawing it close until it’s just in front of yours. Then, your palms slide down his shoulders and he screws his eyes shut and fucks into you again, harder this time, causing your body to jolt upwards on the counter. 

He curses under his breath, pushing one leg further to the side and fucking his hips up into you roughly. You’re looking right at him, your expression drawn and pleasure-soaked, sweat collecting on your forehead as your mouth drops open into an o-shape. You punctuate his thrusts with high pitched yelps, squeaking out your pleasure and the deepness of where he’s hitting through choked moans. 

Katsuki’s hands move up your stomach to roughly cup your breasts, his mouth so close to yours that he’s practically breathing in the sounds you make in exchange for his own hurried groans. He kneads at the fat of your chest, rolling your breast under his fingers before taking your nipples and pulling lightly on them. 

He’s aware of just how rough he’s being, just how hard his hips are slapping yours, but he feels like he can’t stop. Katsuki chases a high so fucking desperate that his body is on autopilot, reaching and touching and moaning unabashedly as the room fills with the wet sound of his balls on the backs of your thick thighs. 

You push your chest forward towards him, legs spread wide to make room for the width of his hips between yours as he bullies that perfect sensitive spot inside of you. Katsuki feels the way he makes you flutter. Every shift of your body, every involuntary squeeze of your cunt as he drags his cock along your walls, registers as if he were a part of you. His skin tingles everywhere you touch and the drag of your nails over his shoulder blades makes him want to crawl into the deepest part of you. Even the sound of your voice, drawn and desperate and mildly overwhelmed, feels like a drug to him. Every sense he has seems to be acutely attuned to just how badly he needs to fuck your lights out. 

His hands slink down to your hips, resituating you and pulling you flush against him. Then, he drags his cock all the way out of you and quickly ruts back in, moaning as he does. His pace picks up, manhandling you forward on the counter until he is supporting most of your weight. You gasp, your hands gripping his shoulders as you let him use you like a toy. 

Katsuki chases his high, his stomach seeming to wind tighter and tighter but never finding that perfect snap and release. His movements grow faster, using all of his strength to fuck his hips up into you, barreling his cock against your gummy walls and bullying your sweet spot. He feels the way you tighten down around him, your body tensing and fingers digging crescent moons into the tops of his shoulders. 

“Ka-” you choke out desperately, your voice breaking. “Wait, Katsuki, wait! I’m gonna-” 

You shudder, your thighs squeezing around him as he continues to fuck you. 

“Do it,” he seethes, “just fuckin’ do it.” 

The end of his sentence comes out as more of a whimper as you cry out and squeeze down around him, squirming in his grasp as you begin to twitch with every additional thrust. Your body shakes, legs locking around him and struggling to hold him inside as he fucks you clear through your orgasm and then to the other side. 

Katsuki’s voice breaks, almost whimpering like an animal as he buries himself in your pussy over and over again. He wants to smother you, he wants to completely cover your body and get as close as he possibly can. He’s already so much bigger than you, so much broader, how hard could it be to swallow you completely? 

Katsuki’s hands come up under your ass as he wordlessly lifts you from the counter and moves to the couch on desperate, shaky steps. He lays you down, slipping out of you for a moment, before pressing a hand to the inside of your thigh, spreading your legs, and sinking his cock back into you as he crowds his body over yours. 

“You know what?” He says, not really sure what’s going to come next. His head is so clouded with the quirk that he can’t think straight. “I’ve wanted to do this forever. I’ve wanted to fuck you for so- long-” 

He screws his eyes shut, almost angry with the way he can’t seem to hit that high, teetering on a desperate and near painful edge. 

“Those fuckin’ pencil skirts,” he says, unable to control his words or sharp tone. “The way you wear your hair, that damn look in your eye that constantly makes you seem like you’re beggin’ for it.” 

Katsuki whines, a sharp sound from the back of his throat, as you tighten up around him. He meets your gaze, clouded and watery eyes accented by the delightful furrow in the center of your brow. 

“And then you show up here,” he groans, not even sure of what he’s really saying. “Blouse unbuttoned, looking for trouble. I’m gonna fuck your lights out. ‘Till you can’t even think about fuckin’ anyone else.” 

He leans in close, his mouth right up against yours. 

“This is g’nna make you mine, right?” 

You nod, your movements clumsy, and pull him close to you. 

Katsuki loses all of his sense, burying himself in the feel of your pussy and the way he sinks into you, giving into the desperation of the quirk. He can feel just how deep he’s hitting, the way you suck in sharp, whiny breaths with every inward thrust. Katsuki’s hands grip your waist, pulling your ass up off the couch so that his angle is better. 

His cock seems to drag endlessly against your overstimulated, pillowy, insides and you practically drool around. He feels like a dog slobbering over meat, any semblance of politeness completely gone from both his expression and his movements. This is going to fucking ruin your friendship, but he doesn’t even have half of a mind to think about it, so drawn into the delightful feel of your body and the aching in his cock that only seems to subside slightly with every thrust. 

You try to choke out the word “again” and he feels like he knows what’s coming. Your whole body tenses, legs locking around him as you cream over his cock for the second time. 

This seems to get Katsuki somewhere, the sensation of your pussy clamping down finally giving him some leeway to relief. He hits the edge of an orgasm, leading himself to the finish line. 

The tension in his belly grows, cock twitching inside of your fucked out cunt. His fingers dig into your hips and he collapses forward, rolling his body so that the head of his cock catches perfectly inside of you, massaging and churning you up. You’re moaning, though maybe it’s more adjacent to whining, and Katsuki can hear himself mimicking the sounds, his body leading the way. 

Then finally, on a pathetic and broken whimper, Katsuki cums. His whole body tenses, weight pressing down on you as he buries his face into your neck and lets his voice out beside the hollow of your throat. The relief and pleasure is so intense that Katsuki feels the way every muscle in his body tenses and lets go, filling you up with as much of him as he has to give. 

His hips continue to pathetically rut into you, little choked moans escaping his lips as he uses his own cum as lube for his weak little thrusts. Then, he completely relaxes. 

Katsuki feels the way his skin stops burning, the way the desperation at the back of his throat subsides, how his body rids itself of the quirk as quickly as the arousal came on. He shudders, coming back to himself and raising his head to peer at your expression. 

You look exhausted, hair a mess and face covered in a thick sheen of sweat. You still flutter around his cock, your hands gripping his shoulders as you try and ride through the overstimulation of just having him inside of you. Katsuki furrows his brows, exhaustion creeping into his muscles. He raises his hand and uses it to push stray strands of hair from your face with his palm on your forehead. Then, with a clear mind, he leans forward and kisses you. 

You blink at him for a second, before giving a weak smile, raising your eyebrows and letting your head fall to the side. Katsuki winces when he pulls out of you, sucking in a sharp breath and standing to his full height. He places a hand on his forehead like he’s assessing the situation, staring at your body, still fully clothed with your skirt pushed all the way up your stomach and your blouse missing a button at the top. 

He wordlessly walks to the bathroom and wets a washcloth with warm water, walking back over to you and wiping down the exposed parts of your body. You don’t really say anything to him, but you smile quietly while he gingerly wipes you down, your smeared makeup accenting just how much of a mess he’s made. 

“Fuck,” he says. “I’m sorry, this isn’t how-” 

“How you wanted this to go?” You say softly, the corners of your lips turning up. 

Katsuki feels the way he flushes, all the way to the tops of his chest. 

“No, it’s not,” he admits, running a hand over his face as he crouches beside you. 

You laugh a little and he furrows his brows at you, frustrated and embarrassed. 

“You’ve got a bit of a possessive streak, huh?” You tease lightly.

“I got hit with some asshole’s fuckin’ quirk and-” he begins explaining himself, something he probably should have done when you showed up at the door. 

“It was good though,” you say, tilting your head at him from where you lay.

Katsuki blinks at you, his expression completely flat. You should really know just how fucking crazy you drive him. Then, he scowls a little, not because he’s upset, but because he’s currently feeling the opposite and that makes him awkward. 

“You’re into that shit?” He says, a bit incredulously. 

You shrug and give him a coy smile. 

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #mha x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki smut #bnha smut #mha smut #tw.dubcon #tw.biting #tw.free use #tw.overstimulation #tw.size kink #tw.scent kink #idk what this is #it’s a little ficlet I suppose #AND SO DIFFERENT FROM WHAT I USUALLY WRITE I FEEL LIKE #ANY IM NERVOUS ENJOY #cal.writing