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#bnha drabble
polly-pocket13 · 2 days
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pretty glittery girly movie
paring: katsuki bakugou x reader warnings: cursing, bad gramma a/n: please enjoy it
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“Why is she here?,” Bakugou asked his friend Kirishima. 
He replied, “She is here because I invited her.”
““She” has a name and “she” can speak for herself.”, you said annoyed.
Bakugou responded with a “Tsk”.
“Kacchan, be kind to Y/N. When Y/N and I spoke yesterday, she mentioned that she was interested in seeing the movie we had in mind for today. So I invited her to watch the movie with us.”, Kirishima explained to Bakugou.
You couldn't speak for yourself again. You were aware that Kirishima was just trying to be kind, but you hate when someone talks for you.
“We're watching a horror film and not some pretty glittery girly movie, you know.” Bakugou told you. 
You said angrily, “I know we're watching a scary movie, Jerk.”
“Jerk? This all you got? This is cute, little wallflower.”, he spoked and smiled for a brief moment.
He can't be serious right now.
Why is he like that?
Why does he always have to bully me?
But did he smile before?
Jesus.
Smiling makes him even more handsome.
“Kacchan, I told you to be kind. Y/N is my friend. Let's go inside the movie should start soon.” Kirishima said.
We went in and bought tickets and snacks. Kirishima suddenly received a call and went outside. “Are you coming with me to the hall, or will you wait for Kirishima?” you asked Bakugou. “I wait.” he replied short. You simply nod, walk in the hall and sit down. 
Bakugou walked in just before the movie started, and sat next to you. You asked him, “Where is Kirishima?” 
“Private Emergency. He went to his mom to help her with something.” he answered you.
Amazing.
Now you're watching a movie with Bakugou alone.
This is going to be quite something.
You exhaled deeply.
The movie began, and you focused your attention on the cinema screen.  
After a half hour and at least 5 jump scares, you were scared as hell.
As a reflex, you grabbed Bakugous Hand and simply squished.
After recognizing your actions, you attempted to remove your hand; however, you were unable to do so because Bokugou held on to your hand.
He came closer to your ear and whispered, “I told you this not a pretty glittery girly movie. But I can protect you if you ask me nicely”. 
You shook his hand away. “I know that this is a horror movie. I am not scared, and I don't need your protection.” you whispered back and focused your eyes on the screen again. 
Thank god he didn't see how you blushed.
You really tried to watch the movie without making any signs that you are freaking out because you are so scared. Nevertheless, he noticed.
Bakugou raised the armrest between your seats and put his arm around you. He pulled you closer to him.
Before you could move away from him, a pretty bad jump scare was shown, and you hid your face behind his shoulder.
You could smell his scent, he has an incredible one. 
“Thank you.”, you mumbled.
“Your welcome, stubborn wallflower.” he whispered.  
You were snuggled against him until the movie end.
After the movie, you walked out and there was awkward silence. Your cheeks  were still blushed. You cleared your throat and said, “Thank you for keeping me safe from those scary nuns.”
“Like I said before, you're welcome. But you should make it up to me.” he told you.
“Make it up? How should I make it up?” you asked confused.
He looked in your eyes as he said, “Go on a date with me.”
Your heart began to beat faster, and you blushed even more. 
“Well, I guess I can't say no” you told him with a smile. 
He smirked and said, “No. No, you can't.”
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heich0e · 1 day
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there's an east wind blowing beyond your bedroom window.
you know it's from the east because the rain falling outside is hitting the windowpane in a soft tap-tap-tap that occasionally intensifies on a particularly strong gust. you know your bedroom window faces east because every morning you can see the sun cresting in the distance, diffusing—soft and pink and warm on your favourite days—through the gauzy panels of your curtains.
"you up yet?"
it's not morning now. far from it, in fact. the night's still only new, though it's already fully-dark outside—and has been for most of the day thanks to the dreary weather. it's late enough in the evening that most businesses have closed their doors for the day and people have returned to their homes, but not quite late enough to justify the fact that you're already curled up tightly underneath the covers of your bed.
you roll over in your comfortable cocoon and spy touya in the doorway, leaning against the frame as he watches you.
he's got his coat on.
"are you going out?" you ask him, your voice a little thicker than it usually is. you've been awake for a while, but your afternoon nap (that ran longer than you expected) has left it hoarse from disuse.
touya makes a quiet sound of agreement. not quite a grunt, nor a hum, but something somewhere in-between the two.
you push yourself up slightly in bed, propping your body upright on your elbows. "but it's raining."
touya hates the rain, and has for as long as you've known him. he's the first one to complain when dark clouds roll in, to curse as his teeth chatter and he shakes droplets from his hair when he steps through the door after getting caught in an unexpected downpour, to go out of his way to avoid making plans that require him to leave the house at the slightest mention of inclement weather.
"'s letting up a bit, i think," he answers from the doorway with a little shrug. "i just need to run to the convenience store, anyway."
he shuffles a little further into the room as you lift your hand and reach out for him, approaching the edge of the bed wordlessly and slipping his hand into your own. he peers down at you from your bedside as you lift his hand and press it to your cheek.
"what do you need at the store?" you ask him, your lips pursed slightly. it's not that late, and the weather really isn't that bad, but you'd still prefer he stay here with you.
"ran outta patches today," he replies, though there's something almost a little resentful in the statement. even his expression is a bit more annoyed than it had been a moment prior, in a way that almost makes you giggle—but you suppose the nicotine withdrawal could be playing a part in that.
"just patches, right? not patches and a pack—"
"not patches and a pack of cigarettes to tie me over on the walk home," he finishes the sentence for you before you get the chance, rolling his eyes a bit. "i know, i know."
he frees his hand from your grip and pokes your cheek lightly, earning him a little laugh you can't help but let slip through your lips.
"i'm 24 days in, you know. not about to throw it all away now," he reminds you pointedly.
"good," you reply with an encouraging nod and a somewhat cheeky smile. you never doubted him anyway. "make sure you take an umbrella."
he nods, his touch still lingering against your cheek. his fingertips skirt down, tracing along your jaw, until he reaches your mouth. he presses his thumb lightly against your chin, seemingly just to watch your lips part.
"d'ya want anything?"
you shake your head in dissent, but then pause, your eyes lighting up.
"can you get pickled ginger?"
"pickled ginger?" he asks you, a bit incredulously. "again? thought we just got some of that."
"i finished the jar earlier," you reply with a shrug.
"that can't be good for you," touya remarks dryly, letting his hand drop from your face. "you're gonna start pickling yourself from the inside out if you keep eating so much of that stuff."
"it's not my fault that pickling is the superior form of food preparation." you flop back lazily against your pillows, meeting his gaze resolutely. you lift your fingers as you list out the various accolades. "cold, crunchy, sour, kinda sweet, sometimes spicy—what's not to love?"
touya's nose wrinkles. he's never been a huge fan of pickles, but especially not in the volume you've been consuming them lately.
"whatever you say," he answers, knowing now after all this time when he ought to bow out of an argument before it starts. "mom texted me earlier and said she was sending yumi over with side dishes tomorrow, and there'll probably be pickled vegetables in there. so you can wait until then."
"fine," you sniff, and you may pout a little, but touya knows your excitement at his little sister coming to visit outweighs any annoyance you may feel about having to wait a whole twelve hours to get your fix.
outside, the wind picks up again, and the tapping against the windowpane gets a little bit louder.
"sounds like it's getting worse," you murmur, your face turned in the direction of the window. you glance up at him again, blinking from where you're sprawled out across your pillows. "you sure you wanna go out in that?"
touya nods, kneeling at the edge of the bed and dipping down so he can press a kiss to your forehead. you're still warm from sleep, and soft in all the ways he's come to depend on. you smell like your shampoo and your sheets—and a little bit like him too, since the floral-printed bedlinen is as much his own now as it is yours.
"be back soon," he speaks quietly into your skin before pulling away.
you wave him off tiredly, and as he leaves the room, touya wonders if you'll be asleep again before he returns.
he pulls his shoes off the rack in the genkan, tucked away next to yours, and leaves his slippers there as he stuffs his feet into footwear better suited for the elements. he grabs his keys off the little table in the entryway, the keychain you bought for him at the aquarium glinting in the light as he tucks them into his coat pocket. last, he grabs the umbrella from just beside the door—he doubts he'll even use it, but you told him to take it, so he does.
there's an unexpected break in the rain as touya steps out into the spring night, and he blinks up at the sky overhead a bit incredulously when he realizes his luck. he doesn't linger to appreciate it for long, knowing that at any moment his fortune could change, shuffling off in the direction of the convenience store at the other end of the street.
he sidesteps puddles along the sidewalk on his way, admiring how the streetlights ripple in the surface as he passes.
touya used to hate the rain, but he can't help but think that it's not so bad when he knows that he has somewhere—and someone—warm waiting to welcome him home.
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seumyo · 8 days
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BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 10:32
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You tell Bakugou once that you don’t know how to take the train home, and he almost blasted your ears off with semi-yelling (or full-on yelling at some point) insults. 
“Hah?” He scoffs, eyes narrowing. This information is new to him, and a surprising one at that. 
You? The nerd that always bested him when it came to academics, which pissed him off the first few months in U.A.? The person who was not only book smart but was street and people smart as well? 
The whole goddamn package doesn’t know how to take the train?
Really?
He’s calling bull.
“What do you mean you don’t know how to take the train home? What kind of idiot doesn’t know that?”
“I just—“ you’re abashed and really don’t know what to say, “I didn’t really— I’ve never had the chance to take one until now!” For a consistent honors student, you can’t really have everything, can you?
“How’ve you been getting to school and back, then?”
“We had a driver—“
“Fuckin’ course—“
“But hey! Listen—in my defense—my schools were usually a walking distance from our house.”
“And now what? Gonna stand here and wait for a miracle to happen?”
You nudge his side with a frustrated frown (more like a pout, Bakugou thinks.) “Quit it, asshole.”
He backtracks briefly, though you could barely tell at this point. And it’s clear enough that he takes your words into consideration. It could be the fact that you actually look scared shitless right now, something foreign to your typical lax and carefree persona.
“C’mon.” Bakugou grabs you by the arm.
“Ow— hey! Where are we going?”
“You have to learn somehow, or else you’ll look fuckin’ clueless and dumb, nerd.”
You don’t argue because you really just wanted to get home, and while you could just call in your driver, you considered that this was important information that would help you in the long run. Besides, you do agree with Bakugou that not knowing how to commute like this is embarrassing, especially at your age.
“What’s this?” 
Bakugou hands you a card. It’s decorated with a minimalist logo of Musutafu’s native flower, whose color is your favorite.
“An IC card,” he simply answers.
It’s cute, you thought. You noticed how the other commuters had the standard design, so Bakugou must've gotten it personalized to your preference. How thoughtful.
“You could’ve just helped me get a ticket, though,” you murmur. You fiddle with the card in your hand, glancing at him with a puzzled expression. “I don’t think I’ll be using this card that often. It’ll be a waste.”
“Then try and use it as often as you can, nerd.”
“I’ll pay you back for this—how much was it?”
“Forget it.”
“Really, Bak—“
“Forget it,” he barks. “Keep up, you shitty extra. Or else you’d miss the last train to your station.” Bakugou starts walking, and you follow suit.
You can load your IC card at the ticket machines or the nearest ATMs. Different stations call for different ticket gates that obviously have different fares. The expiration of cards usually depends on what provider you got them from—
“What do I do now?”
You’re hesitantly in front of the ticket gate, with Bakugou on the other side. You’re like a kid who’s lost their mother in the mall.
“Just—“ Bakugou had to take a deep breath and not make a scene in the train station. He pinched the bridge of his nose, calling for all his ancestors to give him the strength to remain patient.
“Place your shitty card on the card reader. That’s it.”
You do as you’re taught, and you awed when the gates opened and let yourself walk through with a stupidly big smile on your face. “I did it!”
Bakugou thinks it’s fucking stupid of him to think that your enthusiasm for mundane things was cute. But fuck, something must be wrong with him because suddenly he feels a flurry of butterflies lodged in his throat, his heart beating ridiculously fast. 
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” 
He gives you directions, how to navigate through Musutafu without getting lost, and the basic stations you’ll be passing by to get to your station. He sees you type most of the things he says on your phone, and the way you were so eager to learn was a sight to see, really.
Boarding the metro, people were just as eager to get home as you two. So you two stood, not that there was much room to do anything about it.
“Hold onto the handle unless you want to fall on your ass,” Bakugou says. His tone is hushed to not disturb the other passengers. At least he followed basic commuting etiquette. 
“It’s so beautiful,” you breathe out. The passing buildings were as huge as those of U.A.’s, if not bigger. With the golden hue of the apparent descent of the sun below the horizon, Musutafu just became more beautiful in your eyes.
He scoffs.
“What’s so interestin’ about a buncha tacky buildings? Never seen one before you came here?”
“Of course I have; they’re just not like this.”
Bakugou follows your line of sight, and he thinks about it carefully. He couldn’t see what you saw, but maybe it’s because he grew up looking at this scenery. It doesn’t amaze him as much as it did when he was younger, he concludes. To you, this was a first. 
An experience that could become a core memory in this city. And he’s with you as you live through it. The thought causes a familiar feeling of pride to exude from his chest.
Maybe he’ll learn to appreciate more mundane things with you too in the future.
The train stops at another station, and the people scurry out. Once in motion, you were surprised by the speed when it took off, and the motion had you stumbling back. You stumble against Bakugou.
“What did I say about keeping a firm hold on the handles, you shitty extra? That’s what those are for.” Whether it’s by instinct or unintentional, Bakugou guides your hand to hold onto the support pole. He doesn’t let go, and you didn’t make a comment about it.
“Sorry! Still getting used to it,” you quietly laugh. “I hope the people here don’t think I’m really that inexperienced when it comes to taking the metro home,” you told him. “It’s embarrassing to think that I haven’t taken one until now.”
Bakugou thinks it’s alright because you were actually on set to learn. No matter what those other extras say or comment, no matter if they give you unimpressed glances, he’s there to grant them one of his own spine-chilling glares if they had the balls to do so. 
A passenger who appeared to be around your age stood up from his seat. “Excuse me, you can take my seat. I get off at the next stop,” he says. You’re a bit hesitant to take the offer, but he reassures you that it’s fine. It’ll be an awkward death for you if you don’t accept it, because now he’s standing. “Please, I insist.”
Unknown to you, Bakugou had an obvious scowl on his face until the stranger left.
“You look like you’re about to shit yourself.”
“Shut up, I’m not.”
“Jealous?”
“Hah? Why would I be—”
“Shh!” you kicked his shoe with yours.
“Quiet, remember?”
Bakugou rolls his eyes, still frowning. You hold his free hand, cheekily smiling when he tries to free it from your hold. And in the end, he lets you do whatever the fuck it is that you want, but he would never ever admit that he was jealous of some nameless extra. He’s too far into liking you to help you board a train, get you a personalized IC card, miss his stop two stations ago because yours was still three stations after his, but he doesn’t think he’d be vocal about it anytime soon.
He’ll leave it to you to confess.
Then again, you already knew.
Bakugou Katsuki would not go above and beyond like this for anyone else, but he unknowingly does for you.
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SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.
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taones · 24 days
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tw - flirting, good girl x bad boy, school setting but they are vv much 18+, suggestive, swearing
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“How’s my favourite girl today?”
Your best friend tensed up from her seat in front of you. She had chosen to hide out in the stuffy school library to avoid exactly this. She had never been a huge fan of him, but his recent attempts to catch your attention had been grating on her nerves. The boy seemed obsessed with you, following you into the cafeteria and hanging around in the shop you frequented on your way home. Nothing but bad news followed him, and she needed to keep him away from her friend. You were a good student, perfect attendance and good grades - the last thing you needed was someone like him bringing you down. 
“Fuck off, she doesn’t want to talk to you” she huffed at the man, “you’re not her type”
He chuckled, placing a hand on the back of your chair. Goosebumps travelled up your body. The musky scent of his aftershave permeated the air around you, settling in your lungs like a cloud. If you could bask in that scent forever you would. The top three buttons of his shirt were undone, tie loosely hung around it. Thin fabric did little to hide the muscle definition of his chest, slight but still very visible to you. And you couldn’t help but peer through the gap. His tan skin contrasted the crumpled white shirt beautifully. You felt your mouth go dry. 
“Hmm, I’m not too sure about that one” his voice rang out.
“She seems very interested”
You jumped slightly as his face was far closer to you than you realised. If you were to turn your head slightly, your noses would be just touching. A warm flush flooding your body. You gnawed at your fingernail, peering up at the man next to you through your eyelashes. He dropped his eyelid down in a quick wink and set his sights back on your fuming friend. 
“Why won’t you just leave us alone? She’s trying to study”
He tutted.
Next thing you knew the pressure of a wide hand was resting on your shoulder - making you freeze on your seat. The feeling of his warm, calloused palm on your shoulder did nothing to cool your feverish body and you tried desperately not to gasp. In through your nose, out through your mouth, you tried to remind yourself. You couldn’t let him fluster you - then he would be winning. 
A warm chuckle sounded from above you. The palm on your shoulder travelled towards your face, lithe fingers gripping your chin gently. He curled his index finger and dragged the knuckle up the soft skin of your throat. It was like you were frozen in place but your body was squirming under your uniform. His actions left you breathless and you couldn’t help but feel he knew exactly what he was doing to you. If the way his eyes trailed up your legs, thighs clenched together under your skirt, was any indication. Soft lips stretched into a smirk. 
Leaning forward once again, his eyes met yours under a piercing gaze. He let out a teasing coo in your direction. 
“Oh I'm sorry pretty girl, did I scare you?”
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- ATSUMU, tsukki, oikawa, SUNA, tanaka (hear me out), kuroo, gojo, KOJIRO, adam, bakugou, SHINSOU, dabi
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kleem-o · 10 months
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Sleepovers: Boyfriend! Bakugou x Reader
idk i just thought of this and needed to write it lol
“Fucking hell..”
Bakugou looked at the clock on his bedside table to see the haunting red lights show that it was 3 in the fucking morning, and some dumbass keeps ringing his doorbell. He looked over you as you slept peacefully, your head on his arm, while his other arm snakes around your waist. You were only in your underwear and a big shirt of his, while he was in his gray sweatpants shirtless.  He really didn’t want to get up, as you both were too comfortable now, away from the noises of the world, well except from the idiot spamming his doorbell. He kissed your cheek and let his lips stay there for a while, hoping the person would just go away. In annoyance, he got up with a huff, quietly so as to not disturb you, since surprisingly you weren’t waking up despite all the noise outside. Once outside the bedroom, Bakugou began stomping quickly to the door to see who the asshole was, only to see his friend– drunk friend smiling like a little idiot, drunk out of his mind. “What the fuck are you–” Kaminari cut him off by immediately entering his home. “Shit I got too wasted bro, can’t make it back home lemme stay here for a while..” Kaminari was going straight for the bedroom and Bakugou quickly got hold of Kaminari and settled him on the couch. “Okay! Okay fuck, just– just stay here on the couch and be quiet okay?” “Ugh I’m gonna be sick.. Is Y/N over?” “Yeah so be fucking quiet or I’ll kick your ass outside, got it!” Bakugou said through gritted teeth. He really didn’t want this day to be ruined by his pikachu friend. He entered back to his bedroom and went back to bed, body already taking form next to yours, he pulled you closer to him, your back to his chest while he buried his face in your hair, inhaling the smell of home and a hint of cocoa butter. “Babe.? something wrong?” You stirred a bit to try and face him. “Nothing sweets, go back to sleep, just Kaminari being dead drunk and having to stay over” You giggled as Bakugou left open kisses on your nape, letting his lips stay as you both drifted off to sleep. 30 minutes later, Kaminari was still awake scrolling on his phone as he lay down on the couch, he couldn’t sleep for some reason, and the worst thing happened. His phone got disconnected to the wifi. Now he has to be brave and enter the dragon’s den, and hopefully not get kicked out, to ask for the wifi password. Great, just great, Kaminari thought. He went inside the bedroom, being as quiet as possible and saw you and Bakugou sleeping while cuddling, the blonde had to admit it was weird seeing Bakugou being all lovey dovey with you when most of the time it seems like all the veins in his head would burst from annoyance. He checked the back of the wifi router and of fucking course the pass wasn’t there, it would be too easy now would it? Kaminari doesn’t know if he lost brain cells or is just so drunk he would risk his life, but he went ahead and tried to wake Bakugou up. A tap on the shoulder was all it took. Bakugou slowly opened his eyes, adjusting to the dark only to almost have a heart attack seeing the figure of his pikachu friend “Pikachu, what the fuck??” Bakugou hurriedly draped the covers on your body, not wanting you to be exposed to his friend. “What’s your wifi password?” Kaminari whispered. This happened a few more times, and now even you were awake. “Shhh baby go back to sleep” Bakugou tried soothing you back to sleep, but you were already wide awake. “Babe… I’m hungry” Bakugou sighed and it was off to the kitchen you both went, but not before Bakugou made you put on some shorts. Kaminari saw Bakugou and you go to the kitchen and tagged along, you both watched as Bakugou whipped up some fried rice, scrambled eggs, and some luncheon meat. It was now 3:30 in the morning and you, Bakugou, and Kaminari sat silently in a peaceful atmosphere, eating to your heart’s content. You leaned on Bakugou’s shoulder as he said “You’re lucky Y/N’s here”
i need to get a life honestly
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^^ how Kaminari, single, felt when he saw you and Bakugou
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gardenofnoah · 6 months
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“baby?”
he looks more like a cornered dog than a person right now, and yet against all sense, you approach. even like this, touya would never hurt you. it doesn’t even cross your mind—after all, he’s done this for you.
and what he’s done stains his hands and your new dress. he blinks down at both like he can’t quite wrap his mind around the hue of it.
“baby,” you repeat, as softly as you can manage, “look at me.”
he does, after a moment—you watch him come back to you, loyal as he always was. blue eyes find your own, and there’s something about them that is always so unmarred by all of this. touya may do terrible things, but his eyes are those of a child who’s only ever sought out praise.
“did he hurt you?”
it’d been a rare date that he’d decided to take you on, which really was just greasy food shared between you at the dive bar down the street. it mattered little to you—you were just as happy to lean against his shoulder in that torn up booth. the walk home was the problem.
you’d noticed some guy watching you in the bar. that was the thing about dull men—they never noticed touya until it was too late. he was never any bark—only devastating bite. he’d gotten up when you did, and followed you out into the street. he’d reached out to grab you by the jacket you wore—touya’s jacket—and there was no taking back that.
“no,” you murmur, “you’d never let him, touya.”
he nods, stiff. he’s still a little far away—even knowing that you weren’t hurt, it’s the thought of it that will eat at him the rest of the night. you’ve been here before—he’d pull away if you let him.
you don’t. you close the distance between you, tucking yourself under his chin and squeezing around his middle, all but forcing him to let go of the breath he’s been holding on to.
“oi—your dress—“
“don’t care,” you nuzzle into his chest, affectionate and preening. “you kept me safe.”
there’s a rumbling in his chest at that—something animal that keens at the recognition. he is your protector—he’d never let anyone hurt you.
he doesn’t touch you—he doesn’t want to ruin all the effort you took to look so pretty for him—but he lets you hang off his arm the rest of the way home, careful to shield you—from the road, from other people, from anything.
at all costs, touya protects what he loves.
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sugarlywhispers · 1 month
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not me thinking about newlyweds Pro Hero Dynamight and Pro Hero Y/H/N.
a big villain terrorizes the city and because you where on patrol duty at the moment, you're one of first heroes to attend the scene.
yet not powerful enough to actually win against him.
the villain uses a big wood stick like a sword, kicking it against all the heroes he fights, projecting his Quirk through it.
he is powerful, still your try your best to hold on, to keep going and fighting. at least until the heavy horses, a.k.a. your own husban, Deku, Shoto or Red Riot, arrive.
you're beaten up pretty badly, laying on the dirty ground and coughing a bit of blood. the villain points his weapon towards you as he says, "Any last words?"
a big explosion surprises you both.
"Yes. If you continue to point that stupid stick towards my wife, I'll break it. After I break your fucking neck," the dangerous low and menacingly tone in Hero Dynamight's voice makes you almost feel sorry for this villain.
almost.
the villain gulps and the hero smirks.
the rest is history.
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ms0milk · 1 year
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when you suddenly catch a nasty cold
gn!reader ft. todo, bkg, kiri, and (hearts in my eyes) shinsou
i am so ill and these are so silly, indulge me :,) 600ish words ea.
Todoroki starts to cry when you joke about dying.
He’s bought more flowers than can fit into your little apartment, picked up your prescriptions, tissues, juice, a heating pad, cleaned your kitchen, tucked you in– he paged the goddamned family physician– but watching you shiver under a heavy duvet surrounded by all the things that are supposed to help you get better ignites a fear he didn’t know that he had. They aren’t working. You’re still sick because of course you are, it’s only been a few hours, and still he can’t bring himself to move more than an arm’s length away from you because what if– if he leaves and–
“Shouto?”
“Yes,” his response is immediate when you pull him out of the ether. Always is.
I’m not going anywhere,” you croak, too conscious of how strange your voice sounds, “so you don’t have to stay with me all day.”
“I don’t mind.”
Todoroki is a wonderful boyfriend but when was the last time he went to the bathroom?
“You must be bored.”
He leans over you from his spot at the side of your bed and runs a blessedly too-cold hand across your forehead. Bored? Like he could calm down enough for that. “I can’t relax when you’re like this.”
You’d roll your eyes if they ached less, at your beautiful boyfriend and his cluelessly shoujo declarations of love framed by no fewer than two whole flower shops worth of camellias. He turns his hand over to palm your cheeks and wipe the water from your puffy eyes.
“Would you like me to leave?”
You shake your head, smiling under the weight of five thousand pounds of blankets and the heavy dip from his butt at the edge of your mattress. You’re inclined to reach a hand out to grab it, but you don’t have the energy to raise your head let alone fondle your boyfriend.
“There’s no one I’d rather be with in my final hours,” you rasp, joking, obviously joking.
This cold is something evil, chills, aches, snot– the works. But you couldn’t ask for a better nurse. A gentle, thoughtful, sexy, temperature controlled man, a man you would raze the city for, whose hand fits so perfectly in yours and who– whose trembling? You blink back up.
Todoroki’s features don’t shift or soften, his lip doesn’t quiver, but a tear does slip down his cheeks from those pool cool eyes– one after the next until his jaw is lined with them all patiently waiting to fall from his chin.
“Why, why why?” You panic and try to sit up but he comes to you. Todoroki cups your hand tightly in a hot and cold grip and bows over his own lap to rest his head in yours.
“You’re not going to die.”
“What?”
“I promise.”
“Sho, what– no of course I’m not. What’s wrong, baby?”
Your voice is so weak that he has no other choice than to sit back up and reach for the cold compress. He wipes his eyes with renewed determination when he turns back around, “I’ve got you.”
“I’ve got you, Sho. ’m not going anywhere, promise.”
And when the Todoroki family doctor lets himself in, he does consider coming back another time at the sight of you, finally comfortable under a mountain of fabric, and your love curled around you asleep on top of the blankets.
‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎
It’s not until you genuinely collapse that Bakugou realizes something is wrong. He didn’t even hit you that hard.
“You’re wide open today!” The restless pro looms across the arena, grinning. You both come to the agency’s underground ring on Saturdays to train and he’s blasted you clear across the room like he’s actually working for a paycheck.
There wasn’t any amount of money you would have accepted to get out of bed this morning but Bakugou, a less than casual hookup from work, accidentally spent the night and the surprisingly sleep soft rumble of his voice and the gentle kneed of palms as he pulled you back against his body under dawn light– was, persuasive.
The sooner I go in, the sooner I can go home and nurse this headache.
Headache. Naive self-convincing circles your head as you pull yourself to your feet like spinning stars from a goddamned cartoon. This is not a headache. Standing was fine a second ago, and the floor was fine a second ago, but the move from floor to feet fills your sinuses with sudden pressure and immediately the arena starts to swirl.
“C’mon twinkle toes, you’re– Y/n– shit–”
You’re not interested in where that sentence ends today and blessedly you don’t have to hear it because your ears have filled with cotton and you’re sinking back down to your knees. You’ve been congested like this before– it’ll pass in a minute or two, you know how it goes and you’re only embarrassed by the fact you were down so bad for your teammate this morning that you didn’t realize how your body had started to feel.
The vertigo eases somewhat when you rest your head on the ground, but Bakugou has cleared the empty room and already has his domineering hands all over you.
“Y/n? Y/n– do not close your eyes.”
“‘m not concussed, Kats.” But you know the explosive hero’s first fear isn’t exactly a head trauma. “You didn’t hurt me,” you add.
“That doesn’t narrow it down shitforbrains, if I didn’t hurt you then what’s wrong?” His aggressive tone doesn’t match his anxious hold though, and you melt a little when he kneels and pulls you into his lap.
Bakugou definitely doesn’t like the way your head seems too heavy for your neck and tilts himself back just enough for you to lean it against his chest. You look so fucking uncomfortable, scowling, eyes pinched closed. “What hurts?” He rasps as he moves to feel your temperature but his palms are sweating hard from a few quirk ignitions so he stalls, and lowers his forehead to yours instead. You’re soft where he touches you, warm in his hands.
You just need to sit, you don't need the #2 hero to cradle you in his arms like a fallen comrade on the battlefield. Although you don't complain. Your eyes squeeze shut harder as a tiny wave rocks you in the dark and then suddenly one ear releases. “I think I’m getting sick,” you breathe. Carmel in and relief out. “It’s my head–”
“Head hurts?”
“I’m just stuffed up, I– ” the other ear releases, “– just dizzy.”
Bakugou sits on his heels, perched. Should he pick you up? Who just gets dizzy, are you a fucking Victorian child? It’s terrifying to watch– you, his teammate, a capable hero, suddenly unable to stand.
But as the pressure behind your eyes levels out you can lift your head without discomfort. You can bring your arms up around Bakugou’s shoulders and settle your fingers in his hair. Bring him back down from where he’s tried to pull away.
Your foreheads bump again, “I’m okay.”
He growls, “I don’t believe you.”
So the hero takes you home. He makes sure you’re horizontal and goddamned tucked in before he slips from your front door and scares the shit out of you an hour later with a vice grip on some grocery bags and your apartment keys slipped around his middle finger. It’s almost romantic, the way he snaps at you to hold still while he dabs antiseptic on your scratches from sparring, or glares venom from behind the stove when you hobble to the kitchen to see what smells so good.
‎‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎
When Kirishima lets himself in and you’re asleep on the kitchen floor, worry overrides his confusion.
You won’t pick up his calls, but he’s never missed a movie night and he’s not about to start today! He throws your front door open with his copy of your apartment key still in it and kicks off his gym crocs as loudly as he can manage so you can hear him come in. The last thing he wants is to startle you.
But you’re the one who nearly kills him when he slips through the genkan, arms full of snacks and catches sight of your slippered foot stretched out on the ground behind the corner of the kitchen wall.
He’s on his hands and knees faster than he can even take a full step, dropping glass soda bottles and soft melon bread alike from his arms, as he scrambles to where you must be lying lifeless on the other side of the entrance.
“Y/n–! Ah, huh.”
And you are, in a way, lifeless on the ground, but you’re breathing. And smiling? Curled up on the white tiles in front of the sink cabinet.
“Y/n?” Kirishima doesn’t wait to ponder, instead placing a hand on the side of your head to begin the checks for a vertebral injury. But you coo, something completely unintelligible, and you’re much too warm. You tilt your face into his palm and every inch of you is hotter than the next.
“Y/n? C’mon on back to me Y/n, you gotta tell me what’s wrong.”
Maybe it’s the chill of the floor or the addition of his other hand cupping your cheek, but your lashes heft apart just enough to register who it is trying to resuscitate you in the kitchen.
“Ei?”
Kirishima, always handy in a fire, has every hospital route an EMT could ever need memorized from all his volunteer work with the fire department and mentally scrolls through every single one as you try to form a sentence.
“you shouldn’t be here, Eiji, m’sick.”
“What?”
“flu,” you murmur and pull your hands to your side to try and rise. Kirishima doesn’t register anything not directly related to whether or not you’re suffering from blunt force trauma– except for the fact he could recall the exact date and time your dream drowsy smile falls and perks back up again now for the next fifty years unprompted.
“–tried to text you,” you manage as the redhead helps you sit up. The sentence comes out in gasps instead of coughs as you try to spare the air of any extra germs, “I can’t watch the movie tonight."
He laughs with pent up anxiety and simultaneous relief– he’s taken that charming fireman’s knee at your side and you wish in your flu-addled state that you’d stayed unconscious long enough for him to hoist you into his arms. Instead Kirishima places both of his big soft hands back around your face to brush away the dust and crumbs.
“Why are you on the floor?”
“‘got hungry,” you admit openly because you know it’ll make him smile, and with his face this close to yours you’ll be able to watch the skin around his eyes crinkle up too. “Then tired. I just needed to sit for a bit.”
His eyes do crinkle up. And his teeth bit at his lip like he’s trying not to be amused.
“Y/n, you are very sick. And very sweaty.” And the sweetheart, the biggest crush you’ve ever had, your closest friend, the man you dreamed of on the kitchen floor, asks if he can carry you to the bath.
‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎
Why are you breathing so hard? Shinsou is the only pro in the office that you can’t hide a goddamned thing from. Maybe it’s because he works primarily in the underground– observant, sneaky– that it’s obvious, they way you wobble on your feet when your eyes are closed too long, or the sudden effort it takes you just to climb the stairs.
Is he supposed to be able to focus on paperwork with you trying to catch your breath in a hallway when you think no one’s around? None of your sidekicks are brave enough to ask why you wore a mask to work today, but it’s summer and the air pollution gets bad enough that some of them have to too. Are they really all that stupid? Has he done the worst hiring job of any pro in the city?
“Shinsou,” you murmur across the now-empty end of day office and he whips around because god knows how many times you’ve tried to get his attention while he’s been off in space.
“Yeah boss?”
Your voice is rough with sick when you reply and it would be so fucking sexy if it didn’t remind him to be so anxious about your wellbeing. “I’ve told you not to call me that, you haven’t been my sidekick for years,” and then you’re smiling even as you hold back a cough, “makes me feel old.”
“You are older than me.”
“By a year!” You sputter and then your lungs take over, heaving and hacking so hard you have to double over your desk to steady your forehead against something. Shinsou’s on his feet immediately, navigating the office in sweats and his capture gear to get to you.
What happened? This morning it was just a tickle at the top of your throat but the aches sank from your head, down your spine, and flooded through your body just as quickly as the sun’s shadow crawls across a stone. Which is to say, all day long and all too slowly to realize you probably should have called in sick.
“Here.” A cool hand materializes on the back of your neck and you roll your head to the side to check what exactly has arrived for you. With his free hand Shinsou presses a paper water cup forward, which you’d love to take if you had the energy to pull your mask down.
“went to school together n’ everything,” you breathe.
“Boss, you should go home for the night, I’ll– I can finish this paperwork.”
By now the dark-eyed hero has sunk slowly into a crouch beside your chair and keeps a careful hand on your back to ensure you don’t slip to the floor sideways one way or the other. Thank god he sent the rookies home because stupid or otherwise, you'd have to be braindead not to notice this adoration that he can’t seem to get a handle on.
“Shinsou,” you murmur again, just as sexily as last time and he feels just as much if not more shame at how lovely it is to hear you call to him sweet and low, “I can’t get up.”
“What?”
That’s it though. There’s no trick or test. Shinsou has a fucked up sleep schedule from all his overnight patrols so he always stays in the office late, but you? You’ve been trying to rally for the last two hours and now you’ve used all your energy teasing a man whose eyes go bright every time you say his name. It serves you right, collapsing at your desk after using the last of your strength to squeeze as many Shinsous as you could into an evening.
“call me a taxi?”
He rises to his feet, “Will you even be able to get up your front steps?”
“sure hope so.”
“Do you feel nauseous?” He’s shuffling around the room now, plucking keys from hooks, and you watch him sideways with your head still resting in the day’s paperwork. “You gonna aspirate if I let you go home alone?”
“if god’s feeling extra silly”
He scoffs to hide the smile. Shinsou returns to your side to lay his faded denim jacket over your shoulders and then crouches again at eye level.
“Y/n,” he urges, and rests a hand to the back of your head to get your attention, “If I carry you downstairs, will you be able to hold onto me?”
Downstairs is a bluff. With you snug and mostly unconscious between his jacket and his back, Shinsou carries you home. Face full of your clothes, hair, quirk, whatever’s getting in his eyes, under the stars, and down back streets to avoid any publicity, the hero tries to walk gently enough that you don’t whimper from the impact of his steps.
“Thank you...Toshi,” you whisper just when he thinks you’ve finally fallen asleep and the big bad underground pro almost stumbles hard enough to fly.
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tteokdoroki · 2 months
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Hi! I’d like to enter the Bumble Swipe Right Event! Izuku as my fave, my ideal gift would be a card and jewelry, and i wanna swipe spicy!
⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡. — IZUKU MIDORIYA. swipe spicy: decorated.
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about. boom, it’s a match! izuku loves to see you decorated in all of the riches he can afford. he especially loves the anklet that he got you, and the way it dangles when he makes you see stars ( 0.8K ).
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, characters aged up to 20s, established relationships, mating press, unprotected sex, orgasm control, pro hero deku, fem!reader.
・:〃⤥ bumble date, swipe right event ! ( closed )
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izuku midoriya has always had an eye for jewellery, especially when it comes to you. 
whenever he returns from missions, the number one hero is always sure to bring back an item of jewellery to make up for lost time. whether it be a beaded pearl necklace from a seaside town that he’d saved, or diamond earrings from an embassy member abroad. izuku never came back empty handed — even if it meant he had to buy you something. he liked seeing you decorated in the fruits of his success as one of japan’s ( and the world’s ) top heroes.
it’s like his own personal marking, a sign of his belonging to you, and you to him. 
yet izuku could drape you in all the glitter and gold in the world and it still wouldn’t be enough to showcase how much he adores you. there aren’t enough riches in the world to spoil you with and… that’s okay. you seem perfectly content with what you have now, especially the anklet he’d gifted you for Valentine’s Day. the one with the little ‘I’ and ‘M’ charms you’d gotten with it. 
the one that dangles above your head when izuku passionately pounds into you after returning from a particularly stressful mission abroad. 
“g-god, i missed you s’much. missed this sweet little pussy. oh fuck!” forest green curls tickle at the underside of your chin from where izuku has nestled his head against your neck, his lips work shades of deep purples and midnight blue/ into the saltiness of your skin — teething and biting at its soft expanse until you’re decorated with a necklace of love bites. “you…oh angel…you get so tight when i fold you up like this,” he laments in satisfaction, feeling your sluice and sloppy sex ripple around his thick cock with every calculated thrust. “you must have really…really missed me.”
the pro hero uses the strength he’s built up over the ears to fuck into you properly — the force behind his hips sending you jolting up the bed. when he pulls away from the loving assault on your neck, a pinkish hue mingles with the galaxy of freckles dotted across deku’s face, cheeks pink from the exertion. his cockhead is in no better condition, bright red, angry and hot as it smears precum along your ravaged walls. 
“m-missed you s’much izu, please!” 
as a reward, he bullies you nice and open for him — heavy breeders balls clapping against the plush flesh of your ass so hard that your entire body shakes as a result. with all of izuku’s muscle and weight on top of you, you feel as though you can’t breathe — like he’s choking you out from the inside as he uses your creamy cunt to his hearts content. he keeps your knees pressed into your shoulders, ankles haphazardly thr
own over his broader ones which only spread you further. 
the anklet he’d given you shakes under your sinful ministrations, catching in the low light of your bedroom while deku makes love to you on sex soiled sheets. “you look so…pretty when i ruin you like this, have you spread open like this,” he whispers lovingly, contrasting with the harsh manner in which his thick dick pumps in and out of your slick heat. “and this, watching it sway from how hard i’m fucking you…angel, all of it drives me insane.” izuku’s nose nudges it’s way up your calf, plump pink lips teasingly making their way up to the golden anklet dangling from your foot. 
rhythmic thrusts soon because salacious grinds, izuku never relenting on how he deep he fucks into you. all you can do is lay there uselessly, taking cock, taking praise, taking love from midoriya as he puts his all into making you reach cloud nine. his thumb draws circles over your cute clit, his hooded evergreen eyes trained on the way your pussy pulsates and spurts little streams of juices around him. as though she’s laying her claim on his thick, shaft covered with spiralling blue veins.
opaque white paints izuku’s tummy, a crude mix of his precum and your sweet nectar smearing over his abdomen contracting as it contracts against your sex. “think i’m gonna cum,” you wail sweetly, keening into his touch as you look up at your pro hero boyfriend with big wet eyes. “please let me cum. please ‘zu, i’ll be good!”
izuku only tuts in response, kissing your ankle before he takes the chain of your anklet between the perfect rows of his pearly white teeth. 
“you’ll cum when i say so, angel.” the green haired hero drawls softly, yet condescendingly. he makes extra effort in showing off his award winning smile with the chain in his mouth in order  to distract you from the slight change in the way deku angles his hips — his bulbous and leaky cockhead never leaving your sticky g-spot. “and i’m far from done with you, tonight.” 
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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DRABBLE: YOU'RE THE CUTEST BIMBO HE'S EVER SEEN (18+) (MHA) (for Fem!Readers)
Writer's Note: Idk...I like the bimbo shit. I might make a fic with a bimbo!reader one of these days. Btw, some of these drabbles are meant for chubby/plus-sized readers, but I'll just put that as a note. Enjoy! -Jazz
*********
PRO!HITOSHI - Note: Reader is Chubby 
When he sees you for the first time, he is as intrigued as he is rock-hard the very moment he sees you in your little pink thong bikini. 
He is down the shore with Denki after being forced to take a trip to get out of the sweltering, congested Tokyo heat for a while. Don’t get him wrong; a nice trip down the shore to get away from the villain activity and constant rush of the city is definitely a nice change of pace. But to walk around semi-naked people isn’t is idea of a relaxing vacation. It’s uncomfortable for him, walking around and seeing so many women with strings up their asses. 
“You just need some company,” Denki said when Shinso voiced his concerns to his friend. “This place is swimming with plenty of pretty babes for the choosing, ‘Toshi! Who wouldn’t want to spend some time with the top underground hero in Japan?” 
Though Denki's compliment works somewhat, Shinso isn’t concerned with meeting someone for a hookup. He isn’t even really interested in sex…until he meets you, at least. While Denki is busy trying to flirt with some girls standing by a hot dog stand, Shinso slinks away into a nearby trinket store. His eyes roam over the seashell fridge magnets and snow globes with the fake snow replaced with sand. He thinks about which gift would be good for Eri, his little sister, until his eyes land on you. 
There you stand a few feet away at a shelf of trinkets, standing on your tip toes with one of your chunky arms outstretched. You’re trying to reach for a pink seashell-shaped purse on the top shelf, and though you know damn well you can’t reach it, you still try. 
Shinso is no longer interested in checking out the store items now that he’s got a look at you. You’re the best thing in here, from your plump little frame to the pink clothes you wear…if you can even call them clothes. 
You’re really wearing just a mesh pink cover-up dress with a hot pink bikini underneath. The bikini top ties around your neck and back, exposing your rolls, while the bottoms are stuck in between your luscious, plump asscheeks that all Shinso wants to do is shove his face in. While he’s still uncomfortable seeing you in a thong, it's a different kind of discomfort now. He can feel his cock chub against his shorts, uncomfortably so. 
“Excuse me?” It takes him a moment to realize you’re talking to him because of how dazed he is from your ass. You’ve turned around to face him now, showing your front, and dear fuck, does he wish you wouldn’t have. He can now see how the bikini top barely covers your big, juicy breasts and how your tummy bulges slightly over the string waist of your thong. Your lips, kissable and soft, shin in pink, glittery gloss and your cute little fingernails and toenails are coated in pink paint. Everything about you is pink. 
He decides that the color fits you especially well when you open your mouth to speak again. “I'm so sorry,” you giggle sheepishly, giving him a smile that feels like a punch in the gut, “but could you help me reach that bag up there?” You point one chunky hand up towards the top shelf. “I’m just too short to reach.” 
Shinso blushes at the sound of your voice, so sweet and innocent-sounding. He wonders how you’d sound moaning his name with his cock buried deep inside of you. “Uh, sure,” he replies, his voice sounding dry and gravely. He can barely breathe. You excitedly clap your hands, thanking him profusely for his help. “I was so sure I’d end up tripping over these,” you giggle, pointing down at your pink sandal wedges. What a pretty princess, you are. 
“It’s whatever,” Shinso deadpans as he walks over to you. “Wouldn’t want nothin’ to happen to those shoes.” He glances down at them. “Steve Madden, huh?” he asks, loving it when you flush shyly at his observation. “I had some extra money,” you confess. “So I splurged. But they’re cute, right?!” 
‘So, so cute,’ he thinks, but he isn’t referring to the shoes one bit. When he steps beside you to reach for the bag, he catches a whiff of your body spray. It is sweet and delectable, like whipped cream or sugar. God, could you get any cuter? As if answering him, his cock throbs painfully in his shorts. He barely has to stand on his toes to reach the bag, causing you to cutely gasp at his height. “Wow!” you say, shocked. “You’re so tall! I’ve never met anyone as tall as you.” 
Shinso chuckles when he grabs the bag and holds it out to you. “Well, now you have. And you’re welcome…” He trails off, wishing you’d take a hint and spill the space in with your name. He watches as you gulp and stare up at him with those big, doe-like eyes as you take the bag from him. When you do, your fingers brush against his, sending an electric shock through him as if Denki just used his quirk on him. 
“T-Thank you,” you softly stutter. “And I’m Y/N. It’s very nice to meet you, Mr…” You trail off too, cutely puckering your lips. “No Mr,” Shinso chuckles. “Just Shinso. Or Hitoshi. Whichever you want.” 
You tap one painted nail against your chin thoughtfully. “Hit-o-shi,” you carefully pronounce. Shinso has to suppress a groan at the sight of your soft lips forming his name.
“Can I call you ‘Toshi?” you ask, hope in your eyes. And something more. Mischief, it looks like. Hitoshi’s interest reaches its peak when he realizes that there is a whole other side to you than the cute, innocent persona he’s seeing right now. 
He copies your move and thoughtfully taps his finger against his chin, earning a sweet giggle from you. “Only if I can call you princess,” he replies smoothly. “And maybe buy you somethin’ to eat? I’ll admit that I’m not too familiar with the boardwalk though.” 
You look rather shy from the pet name, but you don’t let that stop you from conversing more with him. “Is it your first time here?” you ask, gasping when he nods. “Oh, you’re gonna have so much fun! They have the best funnel cakes and pizza here! I’ll tell you what, ‘Toshi: I’ll treat you to food for doing such a good deed and helping me get my bag. Deal?” 
You reach your hand out for him, peering up at him through your thick, doll-like lashes. All Shinso wants to do is fuck you silly while you look at him like that, but instead, he takes your hand, smirking at the way you bite your lip. “It’s a deal, princess,” he huskily says. 
SHIGIRAKI - There’s no way you don’t know what you’re doing to people. There’s just no way! Do you know what you’re doing to him? 
These are the thoughts that run through Shiggy’s head when you step into the dimly-lit, crowded bar with Toga by your side. The two of you giggle to each other, looking like the best of friends in your little sundresses and tiny purses that hang off of your wrists. The only difference between you and Toma the combination of innocence and sexiness you seem to ooze. 
Toga had said she was inviting a friend of hers to the annual bar hop adventures she, Shiggy, and half of the LOV always have at this exact bar. Dabi knows the guy so they get drinks half off and the cops aren’t called despite them being out and about in the city. He sits with Dabi, Mr. Compress, and Twice (who won’t shut the fuck up) now, a whiskey in his hand that he knows he’s going to need when you finally come up to greet him. 
Shiggy was initially against Toga bringing a stranger into their activities. “What if she talks?” he hissed. “How can you be so sure she won’t blab to the police about us? How do you even know this girl?” Toga barely gave him a glance as she poured herself some juice in the kitchen in their lair. “She’s an old childhood friend of mine,” she explained. “And no, she’s not gonna talk because she hates cops and heroes. I promise you’ll love her! She’s got a wicked streak to her.” 
When he sees you, he can’t tell what about you is so ‘wicked’. You look like the cutest package of candy in your short, pink sundress that barely covers your ass or your tits that jiggle enticingly. He doesn’t even think you’re wearing a bra. You paired the dress with some pink heels, a charm bracelet, and two high pigtails that he envisions yanking on while his cock is buried deep in your– 
“Hey, guys!” Toga giggles when she finally makes it to the stools. Shiggy nearly jumps out of his skin, earning a low chuckle out of Dabi. “This is my friend, Y/N. The one from my childhood? I told you I was bringing her tonight, remember?” She gives you a toothy, excited grin, allowing you to introduce yourself further. 
“Nice to meet you all,” you say in your sugary, sweet voice that washes over Shiggy. “I hope I’m not interrupting your night out, but Toga insisted I meet you all.” Twice is the first one to make an impression, hopping out of his seat to greet you. “Not at all!” he brightly chirps. “I’m Twice, by the way. This here is Dabi, Spinner, and Shiggy.” 
Spinner gives you a nod while Dabi only glances and Shiggy glares at Twice. “Shigaraki,” he corrects his friend. Toga rolls her hazel eyes while you giggle to yourself. “Ignore him,” she sighs. "Come, sit right here with me! I’ll order us some drinks. Do you like those fruity ones?” 
Eagerly, you nod, making you even cuter. You then turn to him, your big eyes stopping him short of breathing. “Um…is this seat taken?” you ask, pointing one red-painted nail at the empty stool. To anyone else, he would’ve said something smart, but he can’t even muster words with how soft your lips look and the sweet smell of your perfume filling his senses. ‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’ he thinks to himself. He’s never had any woman make him feel this way before. He thought these kinds of feelings were long gone. 
He nods, earning a blinding smile from you as you take a seat. As you do, the hem of your dress rides up, revealing a sliver of thigh that has Shiggy’s cock throbbing uncomfortably in his sweats. From his right side, Dabi leans in towards him. “You’d better snag that before someone else does, Shig,” he teasingly whispers. “That someone bein’ me.” 
Shiggy glances at his friend, irked at his attempt at pushing his buttons. He knows Dabi also has a thing for innocence; especially ruining it. He turns to you, already finding you looking at him. “You listen to Nine Inch Nails?” you ask, quiet excitement in your voice. Shiggy blinks, confused as to what you mean, until you point at his band shirt. “I like them too! Have you ever been to one of their shoes?” 
It takes Shiggy some time to process words, but he doesn’t keep you waiting or questioning yourself. “Uh, yeah,” he replies. “Two years ago. You listen to metal like that?” His eyes graze over your outfit and your body, picturing you without clothes. “‘Cause it doesn’t look like it.” 
You giggle, adorably scrunching you nose. “It doesn’t,” you agree, “but yeah! I’m into a lot of hard metal and rock, but not too much screamo. That doesn’t keep me out of Hot Topic though.” Shiggy smirks at your confession and nods down at his wrist. You look down, gasping at the spiked Hot Topic bracelet sitting there. “It’s like we’re one and the same,” you softly laugh, smiling at the bartender when he lowers your pretty, fruity drink down. 
Shiggy watches you sip your drink, your gloss stain on the glass rim making him want to cum all over your mouth. “Are we really?” he asks, but not unkindly. He is actually very curious and interested in you. What is it about you that Toga likes? 
He gets his answer when you turn to him, a mischievous, dark glint in your pretty eyes. Despite your cutesy appearance and pretty clothes, you now appear before him as someone else. Someone darker. “We could always find out,” you suggest, a slight purr in your voice. He doesn’t know if it’s an accident, but your knee slightly brushes his when you shift in your seat. 
Those words are all Shiggy needs. After one too many drinks and the whole “getting to know you” shit, you find yourself underneath him in his bed, your legs up by your ears and your pretty, pink dress on his bedroom floor. Shuddery moans and grunts leave his lips every time he drives his cock into you again and again, his hands wrapped around your ankles. “Tell me how it feels,” he growls. “Tell me, slutty girl.” 
You whine for him, your lipgloss smudged off of your lips and pretty breasts jiggling for him as he fucks you into the mattress. “It feels good!” you babble, your mascara smudged. “You feel so good, Shigaraki!” 
“Tomura,” he grunts down to you. “Call me Tomura.” Realization clears in your dazed eyes and your pretty face splits into a smile before he swoops down to swirl his tongue with yours in a wet, open-mouthed kiss. 
A sudden bang comes from above the wall above your head where the headboard bangs against it. “Could you two shut the fuck up?” Dabi yells. “I’m tryin’ to sleep off this whiskey.” 
“Yeah!” Toga agrees. “I brought my friend tonight to get to know you, Shiggy, but not like this! You’ll ruin her!” A light giggle leaves your lips as Shiggy continues to rock his hips into your wet, tight walls. You lean up, your sticky lips at his ear. “I’m already ruined,” you whisper. “Can you ruin me more, Tomura?” 
Shiggy didn’t need you to repeat. The entire night he spent ruining you over and over again, covering you in his cum until the dawn. Now he thinks you could be an extra good addition to the LOV crew. 
PRO!BAKUGOU - Note: Reader is Chubby
He could’ve blown his fucking load when Mina brings you along for mini golf one night. 
It’s just an ordinary summer evening where he and the squad are playing mini golf and slurping down milkshakes before you show up. Initially, Bakugou is irked waiting for you and Mina to show up, hating when people are late. “Where the fuck are these two?” he huffs. “They’d better not be doin’ their hair or somethin’ ‘cause I’m gonna be pissed if they are.” 
“You know how girls are, ‘Suki,” Kiri chuckles, watching Denki try to aim his ball at a hole surrounded by gnome and fairy statues. “Mina takes forever to do her makeup sometimes, but it’s all to look nice for us. I’d think her friend is doing the same thing.” 
As if on cue, Sero announces their arrival from his seat. “Look!” he exclaims, a chocolate milkshake in his hand. “They’re here! And damn, does her friend look good.” Each boy turns to look at you and they can all agree. Especially Bakugou. 
He can’t keep his eyes off of you as you strut up with Mina, arms hooked in one another’s. You’re wearing a low cut, white crop top with a push-up bra that make your breasts look immaculate and delicious and a tiny, pink tennis skirt that starts at the waistband of your pudgy stomach and stops right at the top of your thick, jiggly thighs. You paired this outfit with white Nike low tops and pink knee socks that make you look more innocent than the cute little smile on your face that gets wider the closer you get to him and the guys.
He can’t stop staring at you, especially when you get closer and he gets to drink in all of the other details to you––how short you are compared to him (you barely graze his chest!); the Fenty gloss on your plump lips; the tiny bow clip in your hair; the scent of fruit on your skin that makes him dizzy. 
Are you fucking forreal? How are you going to show up like that as if it’s normal? Are you trying to tease him? Are you playing with him? Bakugou can’t help but be irrationally angry from how cute and sexy you are. How is it possible to be both cute and sexy? All he knows is that his dick knows the answer judging by how it’s pushing up against his briefs at the sight of you now. 
Mina stops you right in front of him despite his raging hard-on. Just his fucking luck. “Fellas,” she says with a smile, “this is my friend, Y/N. We work together at my agency and she was just dying to meet you guys.” 
You flush, becoming shy at Mina’s teasing. “C’mon, Mina,” you softly whine, bumping your hip with hers. God, what Bakugou wouldn’t give to feel those hips in his big hands! Would you let him? There’s no way you wouldn’t. Your short skirt says that you want his hands all over you. 
“Oh, really?” Denki asks, raising a brow. He struts up to you, already putting on the charm. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N,” he purrs, shaking your hand. “I’m Denki, by the way. You probably know me as Chargebolt.” He raises your hand to kiss it, but is stopped by Bakugou tossing a golf ball at his head. “Kill the flirting, perv,” he grumbles as Denki rubs his temple, glaring at him. 
“Sorry about them,” Mina sighs, but you just giggle. Bakugou’s ears perk at the sound. “That’s Kirishima and Sero aka Red Riot and Cellophane.” Kiri gives you a friendly wave while Sero gives you a wink that Bakugou doesn’t particularly like either. “And Bakugou already made his grand introduction,” Mina sarcastically says. 
You finally face him entirely and he sees your smile falter somewhat when your eyes land on his. Bakugou notices immediately. Do you not like what you see? Are you intimidated by him? He backs up to try and give you space, realizing how small you really are…small enough to break…small enough to toss around in a bedroom. His bedroom, preferably. 
“Nice to meet all of you,” you sweetly say, though your eyes are still on him. “I'm exposing myself here, but I am a big fan of you guys! I’ve got all your posters and merch!” Everyone except Bakugou laughs at your cute little confession. “Oh, yeah?” Sero asks, raising a pierced brow. “So who’s your favorite hero, Y/N? It’s okay, you can tell us.” 
He, Kiri and Denki look at you, interested despite your obvious shyness and discomfort. Even though Bakugou won’t admit it, even he is interested. Even so, he decides to come to your rescue, shocking every single one of his friends. “Ignore them,” he murmurs as he passes you a golf club. “You want next game or what?” 
You stare up at him with those big eyes, looking shocked he’s even saying much to you. You wrap one hand around the golf club, giving him a look at your pink manicure. He can’t imagine how they’d look on his cock while you’re stroking it for him. “I would,” you say, “but I’m not much of a player. I wore the right outfit for it though!”
You swish your hips around in your pink skirt, making Bakugou’s cock even harder when he thinks he catches a glimpse of your inner thighs. “Show her, Katsuki!” Kiri shouts from the sidelines. “She is our guest, after all.” The redhead gives him a knowing wink which emits a growl from Bakugou. 
“Whatever,” he huffs. Despite being pissed that his friends know he is whipped, he leads you over to one of the golf holes located up on a hill surrounded by wooden fans. You stand to the side, your tongue thoughtfully licking your bottom lip and giving him some awful thoughts about your mouth. “Am I doin’ it right?” you ask, even bending your knees though it’s still the incorrect form. 
Bakugou nearly laughs at your cuteness. “Nah, but I’ll give you points for your eagerness. Want me to show you?” You peer at him from over your shoulder and nod. Without even realizing how this looks, he stands behind you, putting a good distance between his front and your back to avoid giving you a taste of his raging bulge. 
“Stand with your hips square with your feet,” he explains, doing his best to not breathe in your shampoo. You do so before his hands cup yours over the golf club. “Take it back once, aim for the ball, and…” He helps you swing the club at the ball, your body twisting with his as you do. The ball goes soaring up the hill and into the hole, never missing. 
From the sidelines, the gang applauded you. “I did it!” you excitedly shout, turning to him. “We did it!” You jump up and down, giving Bakugou a great view of your breasts jiggling and bouncing about. You’re not making this easy for him at all, especially with that pretty smile on your face. “And that’s why you’re my favorite,” you confess. 
Bakugou scowls at you, confused. “Huh?” 
You look down at your shoes, suddenly shy. “The guys asked me who my favorite hero was out of all of you,” you softly say. “And it’s you ‘cause you’re so sweet.” Bakugou’s brain short-circuits. Sweet. You think he's sweet! You, the sweetest little thing he’s ever met. Suddenly, the air between you changes to something more open and flirtatious. He wants to know everything about you now. 
“Well,” he replies, a smirk on his lips, “maybe you can tell me more about how sweet I am over a milkshake?” You look up at him, excitement in your pretty eyes. “And over a phone call!” Denki calls from the sidelines. “Give her your number, dude!” 
Bakugou swears if looks could kill, his friends would be dead by now. But he does, in fact, give you his number at the end of the night. 
PRO!KIRI - Note: Reader is Chubby
‘Mine.’ 
That’s all he can think when he sees you for the first time at the gym. As soon as he sees you in your tight, pink sports bra and shorts that cup your shapely, plump ass so nicely, it’s a fucking wrap for him. You pop up on the treadmill next to him and he immediately notices despite him jogging. So far, he’s at five miles. Another five to go. 
He knows he can’t be distracted by anything that will ruin his workout, but so far, the distraction is winning. You glance at him and offer a smile that makes your little cheeks and baby face even cuter. The sight of you nearly knocks the air out of him. He manages to smile back at you, trying his best to not seem menacing with his sharp teeth, but you don’t seem too disarmed. 
He then pretends to go back to what he’s doing (working out), but all the while, he pays attention to your every move. He watches as one of your chunky fingers presses the buttons on the treadmill, your fingernail pained a glittery pink. Then you start walking along the moving convator belt, your high ponytail swishing behind you and reminding him of some very naughty things, like wrapping his fist in it while his cock is buried in the delectable pussy that he knows hides behind those shorts. 
He’s admittedly never dated a woman of your size or shape before. Honestly, he hasn’t had too many girlfriends due to his demanding job as a pro hero. But looking at the way your breasts jiggle in your sports bra and your soft, chubby waist behind your shorts is making him think differently. Not to mention how short you are. He’s got a thing for short girls. Maybe it’s because of the whole protection thing. He likes feeling tall and big enough to protect his girl from everyone and everything, you? You definitely fit the bill. 
These thought scare him slightly. Why is he pining after a whole stranger in a gym and thinking that you’re his? He’s eyeing you down like you’re a piece of food and he’s starving for it. He immediately turns away and blushes as red as his hair. ‘This is so unmanly,’ he thinks, criticizing himself for his behavior. 
But goddamn, are you too fine! Most of the men in here seem to think so too. He notices their eyes crawling across your body, stopping on your ass and boobs. He glances at you worriedly, wondering if you notice it too. But you’re too busy singing along to the music in your pink AirPods, your voice making him crack a smile. You’re just too cute! 
He doesn’t make his move on the first day though. He waits for about a month before he actually says something to you. Every time he comes in on the weekends, he does so on the same day at the same time hoping to see you. And he does. You strut in wearing your short, tight gym attire with your J’Adore Dior duffle bag, your ponytail bouncing. You greet each other with smiles before he watches you get into your workout, paying close attention to the way your body moves and any gym rats who may want to bother you. 
The day he actually makes a move isn’t one he planned on. It’s a Saturday morning and he’s busy with his cool-down stretches, pretending not to be looking at you in the mirror squatting with a kettlebell between your chunky hands. His eyes marvel at your body, wondering how you’d feel in an embrace or underneath him. Those thoughts quickly dissipate though when someone walks up to you. 
He is buff and about the same height as Kiri with tattoos and a muscle tee. Immediately, Kiri switches into protection mode and strains to hear your convo. “Hey,” the guy greets you. You pause with your workout, lowering the kettlebell down. “Hi,” you sweetly greet, giving him a smile. Kiri bristles. Those smiles are meant for him only! 
“I’m Trent,” the guy says, offering his hand for a shake. You take it, still the sweetheart. “Y/N,” you introduce yourself. Kiri notices that Trent’s hand lingers a bit more than necessary before it drops from yours. “That’s some outfit, y’know,” he chuckles, leaning against one of the machines as he attempts to put the charm on. 
“Thanks!” you giggle. “I bought this week. I just love pink. It’s such a pretty color.” Trent nods, his eyes trailing lustfully over your body in your tight one-piece unitard and cropped hoodie that stops just above your sternum. You don’t notice but Kiri does. “You know, I could always help you with this workout,” Trent suggests. "Help you get deeper into those squats.” 
You blink at him, obviously confused. “Are you a trainer?” you ask innocently. Kiri feels his cock stir. God, you’re just too cute! Trent smirks down at you. “I can be that and more,” he purrs. “Here, let me get you a mat!” 
“O-oh, that’s okay,” you protest. “I-I’m not–“ But he’s already moving to get you a mat and bends down to put it under your feet, eyeing your thighs and calves as he does so. You look so, so uncomfortable.’That’s it!’ Kiri thinks, irked to no end. He’s watched for long enough. He can't stop himself from rising to his feet and storming over to you and Trent, anger stirring within him. 
When he stops near you, you’re the first one that sees him. He thinks he sees the corner of your lips twitch into a smile but he isn’t too sure. He stares down at Trent, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “I think she said she’s fine, Trent,” he firmly says, practically spitting the guy’s name. “You should listen to her.” 
Trent pauses and glares up at Kiri. “What do you care?” he scoffs. “So I suddenly can’t be a nice guy?” Kiri glares back at him, his red eyes sharp. “We both know what you’re bein’ nice for,” he almost growls. “And I’m not about to sit by and watch you bother this girl just for some nookie. Leave her alone before I call security.” He eyes Trent down, daring him to fight this. 
Trent stands, his jaw tight and eyes sharp. He glances at you before scoffing to himself and storming off, heading for the locker room. Once he’s gone, you sigh in relief. “Thank you,” you say with gratitude. “I have no idea why he wanted to give me a mat. I didn’t even need one!” 
Kiri relaxes, but only slightly. You’re talking to him. You two are really talking! “Don't thank me,” he chuckles modestly. “Not that I don't think you can handle yourself, but I saw him tryin’ to spit game and you not enjoyin’ it too much, so I just had to step in.” He dares to look down at you and almost creams on the spot at the sight of your cleavage. “W-Well, I’m gonna go and let you–“ 
“I’m Y/N,” you instantly say, twirling the drawstring to your hoodie. You offer him a gloss-lipped smile that gives him butterflies. “Ejirou,” he replies. “Kiri for short.” You giggle to yourself. “I know; other than you being Red Riot, I hear your name all the time here.” He blushes, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m a regular here. It’s one of the only gyms that are safer for pros like me.” 
“Well, I’ll keep your secret,” you giggle, “but only if you agree for me to buy you lunch for your good deed.” From the way you slightly rub your thighs together and peer up at him through your lashes, he feels like you’re thinking of a lot more than just lunch. And he wants to know just what. 
He smirks down at you, trying hard to ignore his dick chubbing in his basketball shorts. “Maybe,” he replies, playing along. “I think I’d need your number for that though. I mean, just to tell you what I like…for lunch.” He almost kicks himself. You giggle to yourself, already pulling your rose gold iPhone out of your pocket. “It’s a date then!” you chirp. 
After leaving the gym with your number in his phone, he can’t help but nut to the thought of you while in his car minutes later, the vision of your pretty lips and body coated in his sticky cum making him fuck his fist a little harder. Call him unmanly, but goddamn, he can't wait for the real thing!  
DABI - When he first sees your cute little self in your mini skirt that barely covers your ass, he just wants to follow you around and scare anyone who dares to look at you the wrong way. 
And that’s exactly what he does. ‘Cause what the fuck are you doing strutting around like that in this club? Don’t you know how you’re dressed? You’re dressed like you want to get fucked. Though he can’t see you from the front, he can tell you’re wearing a halter top judging from the tie around your slender back. And no bra? Those titties must be bouncing everywhere! 
As you can damn well tell, Dabi likes the innocent girls…or the girls who look innocent. Something about ruining them and bringing out that nasty, dark, devious side to them that he knows lies deep underneath their soft, pink, sweet personality. And you’re no different. 
So he lies deep in the cut and watches you laugh and chat with people, blushing cutely when they compliment your clothes and being completely oblivious to the guys who stare you down like they want to eat you alive. He sips on his drink and eyes your legs, wondering how they’d feel wrapped around him. 
It doesn’t take long for this little game to come to an end. You step outside for some air and he’s right behind you, but he doesn’t go out immediately. He watches as you lean against the wall and dig into your pink purse for your bubblegum. Finally, he comes outside, feeling blessed that he can finally get you alone. 
You don't even flinch when he comes up to stand beside you, taking a box of cigarettes out of his back pocket. In fact, you give him a smile as you chew on your bubblegum, your pink lips forming an O for a big bubble. He imagines those lips forming an O when you moan while his tongue is buried deep in your cunt that lies beneath that skirt. From his angle, he can finally see the rest of your outfit––a glittery, pink halter top paired with platform boots and luscious, curly hair that makes you look like one of those early 2000s movie stars. 
“Want some?” you ask, holding the box of gum out to him. His eyes flick from the box to your big, doe-like eyes rimmed with mascara to make them look almost like a doll’s. Like his pretty little doll. “You’re askin’ a stranger whether or not he wants your gum?” he asks, raising a curious brow at you before puffing on his cig. 
You giggle adorably, almost ditzy-like. “You’re not a stranger, silly!” you protest. He blinks down at you, confused. “I saw you when I came into the club with my friend…and while you were following me around.” 
Dabi blanches. Fuck, he’s been caught! How did you even notice? “Accept my apology,” he sighs, smoke billowing from his lips. “Couldn't help myself. You just look too damn cute to be in there not bein’ looked after.” 
At this, you become shy and advert your eyes as a bashful smile adorns your pretty face. “You know, smoke is a bad habit,” you softly say. He nods, agreeing. “What’s your point?” he asks, paying close attention to your body language. He notices how tight your thighs are pressed together and the way your fingers fiddle with your skirt. You’re wanting something. 
“Because…” Your eyes slowly trail back to his, now hooded and lustful. “Nicotine breath ruins kisses,” you purr. “And I’d really like a kiss from you. I have to thank you for watching my back in there, don’t you think?” 
Dabi swears he’s never been harder in his life. He’s also have never ditched a cig that wasn’t a stub yet either, but the promise of finally getting your lips on his makes him toss the cig down and crunch it under his shoe. 
Several minutes later, your glossy, soft lips are on his, the taste of strawberries in his mouth, while his cock is buried deep in your soft, wet pussy. Your hands are pressed against the wall as he grips your hips, your skirt hiked up and your lace panties pushed to the side to give him all the freedom to fuck you as he pleases. And he does so.
“You’re just like a doll,” he grunts into your ear, growing harder with every breathy moan that leaves your lips. “Are you my pretty baby doll tonight?” 
All he gets his a broken moan of his name in response. He chuckles to himself as he lifts your leg up slightly and continues to fuck you silly behind the nightclub. He knew you had a devious side.
NATSUO - You were just the cute girl in his class that he couldn’t stop thinking about. 
You would walk in wearing the cutest outfits known to man, all of them with pink tossed in. His favorite one was the cropped pink sweater and white skirt that swished around your legs and hiked up slightly in the back to give him a sneak peek of your thighs. That was the first day you two met. You had sat in front of him and rummaged around in your backpack, oblivious to Natsuo burning a hole in your back. 
You sighed adorably and turned to him randomly, your glossy lips in an adorable pout that had his cock stirring in his jeans. “Hi,” you say with a smile. “Sorry to bug you, but I forgot my pen at home. Do you have one I can borrow?” 
It took a minute for Natsuo to answer because he was too busy staring at your lips move, envisioning his dick between them. “U-Uh, yeah,” he finally replied, idiotically so. He dug into his backpack and handed you one of his best ink pens. 
You happily smiled as you took the pen from him, your soft fingers grazing against his. “Thanks!” you chirped. “I promise I’ll give it back to you at the end of the day.” And you did. That is when your friendship began. He begins letting you borrow your pens while you send him notes from class if he’s too tired to pay attention and falls asleep during class, dreaming of himself bending you over one of the desks. 
When you first asked him to help you study for your midterm exam, he can’t believe his luck. “You’re just so smart,” you whine as you two walk alongside each other in the hall. “I can’t afford to fail, so I need your help. Meet you at your dorms this weekend? I’ll bring snacks!” 
He was helpless to refuse you, but the idea of being alone with you this weekend made him want to bust and hide under his bed at the same time. He didn’t have that much experience with girls, especially pretty, cute, adorable ones like you. He spends the whole day cleaning up his space and gargling down Listerine mouthwash before you arrive. 
When you do, it’s at 5 PM after you get off your shift. You show up at his door in a pretty, baby pink dress carrying a bag of snacks and sodas. “Thanks for letting me come over,” you say after Natsuo invites you in and get you situated at the table in the middle of his dorm. “I just know I’m gonna pass with you as a tutor.” 
He blushes at the compliment. How is it you’re so sweet? “S’cool,” he chuckles sheepishly. “I’m happy to help. Thank you for the snacks though.” He ogles at the all of the snacks you pour out of your bag––Pocky boxes; chips; cookies; biscuits. You embarrassingly giggle, picking at your pink nails. “I, uh…like snacks,” you shyly confess. 
‘Oh, God,’ Natsuo laments in his head as his cock surges in his sweats. Why the fuck did he wear sweats?! Why the fuck are you so cute?! This is not going to be easy. 
It doesn’t get any easier for him as the night goes on. He gets distracted at some points at the crumbs dusting the corner of your mouth or the way you swipe your gloss over your lips. He tries not to freak out when you lean in to point out words you’re having trouble remembering the definitions for, the scent of your birthday cake body wash and the feeling of your bosom against his forearm. Are you doing this on purpose? 
Despite him explaining and breaking down the study guide for you, all he can think about is dirtying up your dress with his cum or plunging his cock in and out of the gushy walls of your pussy. It’s impossible not to. He’s practically sweating halfway during the session so he has to strip himself of his hoodie, revealing his blue tee underneath that stretches across his muscles. 
When you finally finish the session, it’s around 7 PM and you’ve correctly remembered most of the guide. When Natsuo gives you an approving smile, you squeal and jump on him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you cheer, wrapping your arms tight around him. He blushes, feeling your breasts pushing against his chest. “You’re such a good tutor! I’m gonna ace this exam because of you!” 
Natsuo laughs at your cuteness, giving you a one-armed hug in respect to you. “It’s no problem,” he says. “It helps when you have such a great student.” 
You pull away from him, peering up at him with those big eyes and that pretty face. “You know,” you say, your voice suddenly dipping an octave but still oh-so soft, “I’d hate to leave here and not repay you for such great work.” Your hands find his and you begin playing with his fingers, his cock stirring as you do. “Is there anyway you can think of, Natsuo?” you ask, batting your lashes prettily at him. 
Oh, does he. And he knows you exactly what when he has you lying down in his bed with your dress hiked up on your hips where his hands are and his tongue finally fucking your pussy. “Fuck, Natsuo!” you whine, your hands in his snow-white hair. “Please!” 
He moans as he pulls his tongue out of your wet hole and stares up at you. “Stop what, honey?” he asks, smiling at your blissful expression. “You wanted this, didn’t you? To repay me?”
His thumb finds your clit and begins slowly rubbing it, relishing the way you squirm for him. “Well, now you can.” 
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mypimpademia · 9 months
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— “Yes ma’am”
Bakugo x Fem! Reader
Synopsis: Katsuki doesn’t listen to anyone but you.
TW: Swearing, bakugo is a prick but what’s new, bakugo is taller than the reader
Katsuki Bakugo is a loudmouth, arrogant, asshole that doesn’t listen to anyone. You can’t ask him anything, or tell him anything. And if you do, you must not value your dignity or your life.
“Bakugo, I thought I told you to-” The tone was stern, far too stern and commanding for Katsukis liking.
“Who the fuck are you talking to?” Katsuki spat.
There was nothing but silence between the two, one snarling and the other sitting in shock. The situation itself wasn’t exactly shocking, it was nothing new, but the blonds relentlessly horrible attitude never failed to take people aback. No one knew what it was that constantly made him so snappy, and they were far too busy walking on eggshells around him to be worried about it.
Despite all this, Katsuki never seemed to have that sort of attitude towards you. Some people would even say that he’s a completely different person when it comes to you.
He’s quiet, modest, sweet, and compliant. You can ask him, or tell him, anything and he’ll respond with no issue. He won’t have an off tone or an attitude, just a normal response. And sometimes, he’ll even do so enthusiastically. It’s an odd sight to see, but it’s nothing to the two of you.
“Katsuki,” you called out, receiving a light hum from the blond sitting across from you on the couch. “Hand me that.”
You nodded to the remote that was just a few feet from you, close enough that you could lean over without leaving your seat to get it. Everyone exchanged sorry glances with one another, pitying you for what was to come. But nothing came.
Katsuki reached over to grab the remote, which was farther from him that you, with a grunt. You gave him a casual thank you when he handed it over, getting another hum in response. Once again, an odd sight.
Was he scared of you? Did he like you more than he did the others? Did he like you? Did you put a spell on him?
What ever it was, you had him wrapped around your fingers right, and he didn’t seem to mind.
“Katsu, come here,” you beckoned, and he was by your side in an instant. “Get that for me.”
You didn’t say please, but you said it politely. Maybe that was the key? But no matter how sweet others were, they’d always have to brace for inevitable impact. Maybe it was just you.
You were pointing up to a cup on the shelf, you were tall enough for your fingertips to graze the smooth glass, but not enough to grab it. Without a second thought, Katsuki reached up, bringing the cup down with ease, the hem of his shirt crawling up with him.
“Yes ma’am.”
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polly-pocket13 · 17 hours
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Masterlist
started: 04/21/24 last updated: 04/24/24 total works: 5
my hero academia:
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oneshots:
katsuki bakugou:
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Can you just give me a hug?
Can you just give me a hug? pov katsuki bakugou
You are the best.
So you are a fangirl?
pretty glittery girly movie
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heich0e · 2 months
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when shouto meets touya's baby for the first time, the eldest complains about how much his son looks like him and not his own father
"i'll be the father then," shouto says, even-toned and serious, his eyes still fixed to the sleeping face of the round little baby dozing soundly in the cot below him. he hasn't managed to tear his sparkling gaze away since the baby wrapped his tiny hand around shouto's index finger in his sleep, and hasn't let go—though the youngest todoroki truly doesn't seem to mind.
touya chokes on his own spit, guffawing momentarily. "that's not how that works!"
the baby stirs up from his nap at his father's outburst, grumbling unhappily at the rude awakening. shouto carefully plucks the baby up out of the crib, holding him up in front of his face.
"hello son," shouto says as he and the baby stare at each other with equal focus and round-eyed curiosity.
"gimme back my kid!"
2K notes · View notes
seumyo · 6 days
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BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 6:34
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do u want to celebrate your bday, mr. great explosion murder god dynamight
Bakugou stared at your message for a while. He sits by his study desk, supposedly taking a break from his homework. His brows are contorted to one of contemplation, a pout on his lips as he types in his reply—rather quickly, too.
hell no
(ꃋᴖꃋ)
He shook his head. Bakugou turns off his phone and sets it to the side. 
If anything, he hates and genuinely gets upset with surprises, especially when celebrating his birthday. He doesn’t get it; why people celebrate another year closer to death. When he was younger, he remembered loving the attention, the gifts, and the praise. 
But now that he’s older, he’d much rather just spend time by himself. Maybe cook himself a dish or two to celebrate, but that’s it. He doesn’t need anything grand—not anymore, at the very least.
Then again, why would you be asking him a question like that as if you weren’t on the other side of Japan? He thinks it’s childish; besides, celebrating his birthday is a complete waste of time. He’s a hero-in-training, and so are you, so he’d rather use that time of celebration to either train or study (and he has the audacity to call other people nerds).
Bakugou decides to go to school earlier than normal because he doesn’t want to give those idiots (his classmates) time to even prepare for a surprise party (yes, Kaminari’s horrible at whispering and keeping secrets) for him in the dorms (and also the classroom; it just slipped from the tip of Kirishima’s tongue).
A hand holds onto his shoulder, and by instinct, he moves away from the contact and turns to the person with a scowl. If he weren’t alert, he would’ve blown said person to bits, and yet the moment he hears that familiar laugh, all raised defenses are lowered and his tense shoulders relax.
“What the fuck?”
“Surprise! I knew you’d come to school early,” you greet him with a bear hug. Bakugou scowls as he tries to push you away.
“Kats, I missed you so much! It’s been forever since we last saw each other—”
“How the hell did you get here?”
You grinned, ignoring his non-serious threats of exploding you to the skies. “Come on, Grouchy. I don’t have much time, y’know?” You dragged Bakugou toward one of the private lounge areas within the grounds of U.A., and he’s surprised you knew how to navigate your way around the campus. “Don’t worry, I asked for a bit of help from Midoriya since he’s the only one I know aside from you that goes to this school.”
“That damned—”
“Don’t get mad at him! Getting mad would make you wrinkle quicker, and don’t furrow your brows; I think I’m seeing wrinkled lines in your forehead.”
“You—”
“There’s no time for scolding me, Kats!” You held up a bento cake to him. 
He notices the two little boxes of what he assumed would be his presents behind you and the lighter you used to light up the candle. He thinks it’s wasteful when he could’ve just lit it up himself with his Quirk. Then again, he couldn’t really do anything anymore because what’s done is done.
The cake itself was thoughtful. Frosted with light orange frosting, decked out with what he assumed were mini explosions made out of fondant at the sides and a little lettering that said, “hbd dynamight,” with a little spark of red, orange, and black at the end of the sentence. 
Bakugou looks back on it, and the realization dawns on him.
This is the first time someone—aside from his parents—made the effort to give him a cake for his birthday. 
“Do you want me to sing happy birthday?” You ask when he doesn’t immediately blow out the candle.
“Fuck, no.” He rolled his eyes and took a moment before doing so.
“You didn’t have to do all this, nerd.”
“But I wanted to.”
That made Bakugou smile, even if it was only a little. “Thanks.”
“You’re seventeen now, and that is one year older than being a senior citizen,” he chuckled, “and as always, don’t smoke, drink, or do anything that would get your hero license revoked. Lessen the frown and turn it upside down; remember that I’m an awesome friend for remembering your favorite cake flavor even if you don’t eat it often—and finally, happy birthday, Kats.”
His heart is beating too quickly as he tries to play it cool by nodding to everything you said. He’s missed this, though he’d rather die than tell you that, knowing damn well you would never let him live it down.
“Whatever, you sap.” Bakugou stuck out his tongue, and you did as well.
“Well— shit, I have to go before I miss the next train.”
“Don’t have morning classes, then? Shiketsu’s a four-hour commute from here.”
“Uh huh. Remember—”
“Yeah, yeah. Cake goes in the fridge if I don’t want to eat it, and send you a video of me opening your gift. I hope it’s not ass, like last year’s mug with our picture on it.”
“Hey–! It was a very good picture,” you replied. “I have one too, just so you know,” you chuckled after finishing packing everything up. “Because it’s cool to match mugs. Really good way to strengthen our relationship. It makes you think of me whenever you have your morning coffee or tea.”
He snorts. “As if, nerd.”
Bakugou watches you leave, but not before seeing you stumble against your feet, which made him cackle obnoxiously at your misery. With the bento cake and gifts in either of his hands, he thinks this is one of his best birthdays yet. And spending it with you, even if it were only for a short moment, is surprisingly fulfilling.
He may start to enjoy surprises if they were this pleasant.
Now he just has to worry about getting back to the dorms without being seen by any of the idiots that would pester him about where he got his cake and gifts from.
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sweetnsour1 · 2 months
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1:19
Fluff, Bakugou x g/n reader
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“The hell are you hiding for?”
Garbled grumbling escaped from the slivers of space between your folded arms. Strong fingers, that could’ve easily pried your face free, tugged at you gently. You raised one forearm up enough to peek out. He seemed to roll his eyebrows more than his eyes before returning to his usual glare.
“That’s still hiding, brat.”
“I should be hiding. It’s embarrassing.” The last word sluggishly crawled across your tongue before falling.
“What’s embarrassing?” A smile almost broke free at the sound of him mimicking you.
“Words…feelings…words about feelings…being bad at all of it…it’s fucking embarrassing.”
“Mmm.” The groan of agreement soothed you some. You released your arms, scooting back across the sofa, out of his reach. Not quite willing to find comfort in the gentle pity he seemed to be offering.
“Sorry.” The word was directed at the cushion that held the focus of your gaze.
“What the hell do you have to be sorry for?”
“I shouldn’t have said all that.” You scratched at the fabric in front of you, letting the textured stitching slide beneath your fingernails. “Things could’ve stayed the same if I hadn’t said anything.” The silence started to make the air thicker…heavier. It was draping across your shoulders, wrapping around your chest, making your lungs feel weak. When had the music stopped playing? Fuck, you’d give anything to lighten the weight in the room. You took a deep breath, trying to at least shake some of it from your lungs.
“Hey.”
You flinched as a hand slid across your knee.
“Fuck…” A sigh lacking the usual fire behind it punctuated the word, softening it into nearly nothing. “Will you just look at me?”
His eyes made you want to fall forward into his arms just as much as they created an unshakeable urge to lock yourself in another room. His hand ran through blonde hair before falling back to grab your wrist. You choked back a laugh at the subtle sign of how well he knew you. How well he understood you were about to run or hide again.
“Now say it again.”
“Why the fuck would I do that?” You tensed in anger, scowling as soon as you saw the smirk resting on his stupidly handsome face.
“You’re really that scared?” You ripped your wrist free.
“I’m not scared. I’m embarrassed. It’s different.”
“Looks the same to me.”
“Ugh, you’re such an ass.” You folded your arms across your chest before spitting out the words that had left your lips so sweetly moments earlier. “I like you…happy?”
“Yea.” His laugh forced another glare from you.
“What?”
“Yea…I’m happy.” You tried to back up further into the corner of the sofa you were already trapped against as he moved toward you.
“Why?”
“Idiot…”
“Fuck o-“
“I like you too.”
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Be gentle with me I’m rusty and dusty
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augustinewrites · 1 year
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in the years bakugou katsuki’s friends have known him, they have learned that despite his loud and brash personality, he was a notoriously private person. he seldom posted on social media, rarely did interviews or showed up on talk shows. the media still ate him up, his evasiveness about his life outside of hero work only leaving people wondering just what he was hiding.
“are you sure this is the place, denks?”
he kept his private life hidden so well under wraps that he didn’t even tell his bestest friends in the whole wide world that he’d moved apartments. they’d found out by accident.
kaminari checks his phone again. “yeah! this place is on shinsou’s patrol route. i don’t think bakugou knows, but shin and i have seen him walk in here three times this week!”
simply entering a building on its own wouldn’t be enough to rouse suspicion. the first time, shinsou had reported that he’d seen bakugou wearing his uniform trailing behind a woman in a suit - someone from legal or pr, he assumed - and kaminari had thought it was for a witness interview and brushed it off.
the second time had been a little more unusual. it’d been bakugou on his own, dressed casually with his cap tipped low and his backpack slung over his shoulder. kaminari hadn’t had much time to think about that one because he’d been helping an old lady cross the street, so he’d just assumed he was visiting a friend or something.
the third time had been downright suspicious, because he’d seen bakugou dressed casually and carrying two bags of groceries in his arms. this occurrence had been downright suspicious, and had prompted kaminari to make a groupchat to share his findings.
kirishima glances around the busy street, humming. though it’s one of the wealthier districts in musutafu, the street is quiet, sleepy, dotted with small shops and street vendors. the closest agency is three blocks away, and it isn’t even bakugou’s. “it’s kinda far from our agency, don’t you think? it’s way off our patrol area, and his job is basically his life. why would he live here?”
“that’s what we’re here to find out,” kaminari shrugs, pocketing his phone. there’s a doorman stationed outside the building, sending the pair a polite grin as he holds the door open. “swanky place though, don’t you think? maybe i should get myself a nike deal too! then i can finally get out of shin’s place.”
___
katsuki’s just gotten out of the shower, stirring idly at the pot on the stove when he hears a knock at his front door. he flicks the heat down a notch before heading for the door to peek through the peephole.
that’s when pro-hero dynamight, number two on the hero billboards, and a role model for children everywhere, leans back and mutters, “fuck.”
another knock, a little more insistent this time. “hey, bakugou? you home? denks, if this isn’t his place this is gonna be real awkward.”
“fuck. fuck,” he glances over his shoulder at the bedroom, then back at the door. this wasn’t how everyone was supposed to find out. especially not ei and denki of all people, whose mouths were bigger than their combined iq.
he lets the analytic hero side of his brain assesses the situation first. the obvious answer is that he could just…not open the door. it’s a good, quick solution in the short term, but will still come back to bite him in the ass later. when it comes to his personal life, no wall (or door, in this case) could withstand the nosiness of his friends.
his other option was to, well, open the door. just a crack, of course. feeding the vultures a half-truth would placate them for the time being, so he could retreat and come back with a better plan.
“hey! bakugou!” kaminari cheers when he begrudgingly opens the door. “so you do live here!”
“last time i checked, yeah,” he huffs, staying planted firmly in the doorway. he treats this like he would any interview, shutting down any unwanted questions with blunt, half-answers. it’s usually enough to deter most reporters, but his friends have learned to shrug off his hostility simply because they lack any self-preservation skills.
“can we come in?” kirishima asks hopefully. “we wanna see your new place!”
“no.”
he rolls his eyes at their identical pouts. “why not?”
“because i can’t trust you both near things that can stain.” he gestures to the hall. “now can you please get out of here so i don’t burn dinner?”
“ugh, fine,” kaminari relents with a louder than necessary groan, which katsuki immediately finds suspicious, especially when the blond places a hand on his shoulder. “i gotta admit, this is a nice place, man, you did good. i’m proud of you.”
katsuki feels it a second too late– the light tingling that often precedes–
he curses through clenched teeth as kaminari shocks him with a voltage just shy of a taser, body folding as it fights the current. his so-called friends take the opportunity to push past him and into his living room.
“awe, look!” that electric dipshit coos, picking up a picture frame. “It’s a picture of all of us at graduation!”
“and look at this one! this one is of him and–” kirishima’s expression shifts into genuine surprise. “this is the head of our legal department…and you’re kissing her! on the mouth!”
of course it’s then that the bedroom door opens, three heads turning to see you walking out, toweling off your wet hair. “katsuki?”
the pro, still crumpled in the doorway, looks away as his friends do a double take, then fix him with wide eyed stares.
“katsuki!” you gasp, rushing to his side. “oh my god, are you okay?”
“‘m fine,” he coughs, letting you help him to his feet. “aside from the two ass clowns in our living room.”
“hey!”
“oh, ignore him,” you simper, pressing yourself into his side. “he loves you guys, but right now…i think he’d prefer to love you from afar. at least until our housewarming party!”
“housewarming party?!”
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