kirishima: don't come to the loft
kirishima: bakugo's passive-aggressively doing the dishes he asked me to do six hours ago. it isn't safe here anymore
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Some Kind of Wonderful
Summary — In which your friend Katsuki decides to help you 'practice' for your upcoming date.
Pairing — Bakugou Katsuki x Reader
WC — 5507
Tags — MDNI - Minors Do Not Interact, Aged-up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Making out, Implied Chubby Reader, Literally the tiniest hint toward a boner, Implied Mirio/Reader, No Beta
Katsuki’s patience snaps in half when you let out your fifth sigh of the afternoon. He stomps his boots on the ground, slaps his paperback book down, and he wires his jaw tight. The cherry on top of his hissy fit comes in the form of a heated glare tossed in your direction, where you stand hunched under a Honda Civic. “What’s your fuckin’ problem? And don’t give me that ‘nothing’ bullshit.”
With the purse of your lips and the scratch of your thoroughly used pencil, you ignore his outburst and take it for what it is — an opening to whine about your troubles to Katsuki, guilt-free. You just don’t have it in you to be anything less than transparent about the heaving, wistful breaths, even if you should give him shit about his tone. It’s Katsuki, anyways — when you’ve been friends with him this long, sometimes you have to give up the ghost of indignation with how he extends his ass-backward concern.
You glance up at him while you take inventory of supplies, gauging his irritation while you run over the checklist in your head. “I’m a little nervous about my date.”
He doesn’t contain his almost audible eye roll, crossing two big arms in front of his chest while scoffing at you. ”What’s there to be nervous over? It’s just fucking Togata.”
Funnily enough, you already recognize how ridiculous it is to be this concerned about Mirio. And that’s no slight to him; He’s unassuming, sweet, and easygoing with an air that has most people feeling safe and secure. On top of it all, he asked you on a date because he was the one with the massive crush, not you. You were sitting fairly pretty with the current situation but the hot pinpricks in your stomach beg to differ.
”I know, but—“ you falter for a second, trying to figure out if this is really the type of thing you want to talk about with Katsuki of all people. He’ll probably call you an idiot and go back to his boring nonfiction without another word on the subject — there’s also a chance that he’ll resort to mocking and you’ll never hear the end of it. At least that’s how he normally reacts when Denki complains about being left on read or when Kirishima bumbles around all red-faced after receiving compliments from you.
You only need a few seconds to find your resolve again. Potential humiliation is always daunting but you really don’t think you can stomach the last hours of your shift with this uneasy weight on your shoulders. Besides, he won’t let it lie if you shrug him off now after practically begging for his attention. “Well, it’s just — what am I gonna do if we kiss?”
His face goes slack for a millisecond before he looks like he wants to kill you for bringing up the subject. “Are we in middle school or somethin’? Just fuckin’ kiss him if you want to,” he growls it out, already ripping open his book to find the page he lost for such a juvenile conversation.
You can’t bring yourself to say the real issue. How hard could it possibly be to just say you’re out of practice? Extremely, woefully out of practice for someone your age who should be playing the field to some degree. You haven’t been in a relationship since high school and the last time you kissed someone was at a Christmas party two years ago.
(Even more depressing is the fact that the kiss in question only barely counts. Getting caught underneath the mistletoe with Tenya had resulted in the most awkward, short-lived peck in human existence. It took months for either of you to fully live it down and you still hear about it every December.
You would be loath to admit it but it’s because of Katsuki that all you’ve experienced in the last few years has been Tenya’s stiff embrace. At some point before that party, you had noticed the way you came alive when he would direct all of his attention on you and it hadn’t taken long to realize that it was because you had feelings for him. How could you not? He's always cared for you and paid attention to all of your little parts, always rough and tumble but soft and doting at the same time. He’s always impressed upon you how you’re ‘his girl’ and it’s always lit you like a livewire.
Despite it all, you’d given up hope of reciprocity. He never exhibited any feelings in return and you weren’t the type to actively pursue something with a friendship as dear as his on the line. Mirio’s invitation couldn’t have come at a better time because, hopefully, someone as lovely as him will wean you off of Katsuki and the insurmountable emotions you have for him.)
You don’t flounder for long because Katsuki never lets you. He always zeros in on these things quickly without you having to actually say anything. It’s too bad that he uses his powers for evil instead of actually being helpful for once.
His smile is knife-sharp and his eyes hold the usual air of taunting people like Izuku have to deal with all the time. “What? Does the little ‘ole mechanic still not know how to kiss?” He clicks his tongue in mock pity before letting out an obnoxious laugh at your expense, slapping his book on his knee like he wasn’t pissed at the beginning of this exchange. Like you don’t know how he’s just as hopeless in this arena with his nonexistent dating life.
“It’s just been a while!” You’re trying to defend yourself but it only makes him laugh that much harder, his hand slapping across his mouth to cover his manic grin and stifle his obnoxious wheezing. It might have been funny if it was anyone else but it just feels pathetic to you; It’s to the point now that the mechanics of making out have totally slipped your mind, not that he needs to know that with how hard he’s already laughing. “I just want it to be good,” you drop your pencil down on the steel table with finality before turning back to the Honda. To save some face, to protect what little bit of pride you still have kicking in your chest, your words take on an indifferent tone. ”Whatever. I’ll just figure it out when the time comes.”
His laughter dies down and no response follows which is honestly fine because you prefer the silence. You assume he’s dropped it, something that’s probably for the best after how he’s been this week. While you might have forgotten the lead-up, the motions of making out, the same can’t be said for knowing how little Katsuki is invested in the topic of your date. He’s made it perfectly clear how much of an idiot he finds Mirio and how you’re an even bigger one for accepting his offer. Telling Katsuki about Mirio started recurring rounds of barely-concealed huffing and little comments at Mirio’s expense (and sometimes yours) before pattering off into a terrible mask of nonchalance. It’s done nothing to hide his random bout of irritation on the subject.
You line up a collection pan under the drain plug, already reaching for the ratchet balanced on the nearby toolbox. Placing the head of the tool against the large bolt, you set to work on turning. You twist and twist and twist your arm counter-clockwise and the garage fills with the familiar sound of metal on metal.
The click of your tool is loud on your ears but it’s not enough to drown out everything with it, especially with the rhythmic pauses you take with each crank. You hear a group of teenagers after one crank, laughing carelessly after a day at the local high school pass the front of the shop. Next, it’s a deep metal clang from the old vending machine in the office section, its weak lights fluttering with the shake of an old machine. Finally, just as you feel the bolt release the majority of its tension and all it will take to have pools of slick oil filling your pan is a single crank, you catch Katsuki’s rough voice carrying through the wind. Your ratchet ends up slipping right through your fingers and clattering on the concrete. The bolt still clings to the valve.
”Practice on me.”
The slam of metal on concrete has you startling, and you straighten your back to your full height—not that you get very far. Pain blooms at the crown of your head from the harsh metal of a rogue pipe beneath the car. “Shit, that hurt—” You cup the spot tenderly, reaching toward the ground so you can scoop up your fallen tool while you hiss in Katsuki’s direction. “I really hope that joke was worth my concussion, asshole.”
He locks his jaw and squares his shoulders, tense and sharp lines replacing the teasing air that usually comes of his mockery, before retaliating again—almost making you drop the ratchet a second time. “‘M not joking,” Katsuki frowns, the pinch of his brow painting the perfect picture of serious.
Your cheeks heat but unlike the flush that comes with crushes and dates and kissing, it’s the kind that comes with being poked at. It feels a little humiliating because he’s barring down, acting like he’s willing to make out with you and for a joke of all things. You clench your fist tight around the ratchet before slamming it back into your toolbox. “You’re not funny, Kat,” you close your eyes for a brief moment, releasing a single rage-filled breath so you don’t blow up from his audacity. “That’s not funny, especially since I was being open with you.”
He casts his head back and groans, loud and frustrated before replying with a sneer that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I know the fumes from this shithole haven’t fucked with your cognitive abilities that much. I said I wasn’t jokin’.”
Tinges of anger still linger deep within your chest but they’re mostly replaced with confusion. It doesn’t make any sense, not in your world at least. “You’re being serious? Why would you offer that?”
His cheeks redden as he processes what you’ve said, where the conversation has gone and then he’s breaking his gaze, swiveling his head to the bustling street outside. He ignores your questions when he finally works through all of the thoughts you can see piling up in his head. “Forget it.”
You aren’t as willing to forget. “Would you really do that for me?”
You step around your toolbox, around the steel table you write all of your orders down on, and you close the distance that separated Katsuki from your work. He doesn’t move when you approach; he stays still and quiet, watching people come and go with dark eyes and a clamped mouth. ”It’s just a dumb fucking kiss,” his rough voice is even more coarse. “I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t willin’.”
Shock doesn’t even begin to describe what you’re going through. Katsuki can shrug off a kiss like it carries no weight but you know that’s not really how he feels. Dating, sex, kissing — it‘s all serious business to him, after a lifetime of watching his parents love each other and seeing the joy and domestic bliss that came out of it. After a lifetime of wanting it for himself. He wouldn’t do this with just anyone.
He’d do it with you, though.
You consider him then, only for a few seconds. You take in his pale hair, his stained cheeks, his large hand dwarfing his little paperback where it holds the page he’s on. Pretty, you recognize because that’s always been true for as long as you’ve known him. Pretty and willing to kiss you.
Your answer leaves as easily as it came to mind. “Okay.”
You catch the subtle ruffle of his hair when he turns to face you again. He considers you now, analyzing you in the same way you had analyzed him. Feeling his eyes on you is too much so you follow in his footsteps; You lamely train your eyes out the door and pretend he isn’t even here, like anything out there is more interesting than this sudden turn of events.
You can’t help but glance at him from the corner of your eyes, and it’s enough to finally evoke a response out of him.
“You gonna get over here or are ya gonna stand around like an idiot?”
It only takes four steps to clear what little space pooled between you two, to be within reaching distance of each other. You don't reach out to him yet; Instead, you wipe sweaty hands down your front, completely at a loss for how to tread these new waters with someone currently glaring holes in between your eyebrows.
“What are you gonna do with your hands?” Business as usual, Katsuki takes on his usually bossy tone. It’s irritating most days but all it does now is put you at ease. You know he’ll take care of you and you know that he’ll be helpful in his own aggressive way.
“My hands? It depends,” you say, because it does. A lot of factors go into hand placement.
He rolls his eyes at you because, even though he’s helping, he’s still Katsuki. “No, it doesn’t ‘depend’,” he quotes the air, his voice in a grating impression of your own. “God, you’re so fucking lucky I’m around.”
He snatches your hands, curling around the limp of your wrists and then tugging unnecessarily harsh until you’re standing in between his parted thighs. He drops a stained hand on his shoulder, ignoring a cry you let out about the grease before twining your leftover fingers with his. You feel the catch of his calluses on your own and despite the pleasant trill that rockets up your palm, it’s immediately overshadowed by the need to fidget away in a fit of stage fright. If Katsuki feels the same, he doesn’t show it.
The hand still in his grip is moved to the back of his head that dips back to meet it. He cards your fingers through the wild mess of hair, curling your fingers around his strands before slipping away to anchor around your elbow. “There. He’ll like it if you do that shit,” Katsuki smirks up at you, cocky when all he did was put your hands on him.
Embarrassingly enough, he might actually have a reason to feel cocky. If it feels even a fraction like this when you touch Mirio then you don’t see how things could go wrong. You notice how it lights you up from the inside; Pops and crackles flare deep in the crevices of your gut the longer your hands are on him.
You’ve touched these parts of him before—felt the curves of his shoulder when patting him on the back and the downy soft of his hair on the rare occasions he lays his head on your lap—but this is the first time it’s inspired anything beyond friendly affection. This is new, feeling your friend in this context. You’re a little shocked by how much you enjoy it.
With little success, you try to ignore how well he fits into your palms. “What now?” You zero in on the material of his shirt but it proves to be just as distracting with how it clings to his torso. Has he always been this built?
He’s so focused on helping, so serious about it that you almost feel a little guilty for the subtle squeeze you give to his arm, taking in how the muscles refuse to cave around your fingers. “You gotta look me in the eyes when you do this shit, or it won’t count.”
You doubt that but you listen anyway because you really don’t want to be caught checking him out when he’s being so nice to help you in the first place. You square your shoulders and dip your head and tear your gaze away from your prodding fingers but his request is easier said than done.
The promise of a kiss as practice, one shared with your best friend no less, is making you feel ridiculous and—if you really examined yourself—extremely nervous. If only you could be as straight-faced as he is; Your mouth stretches into a grin and your belly begins to twitch with suppressed laughter, despite the admittedly valiant attempt to stop both.
His face doesn’t crumble when he notices the shake of your shoulders. Instead, deep red eyes narrow into a glare when he sees your lip caught between your teeth, when he feels the clench of your heated hands on his shoulder and in his hair, and a snarl warps his face. You can’t blame him.
“Fuckin’—stop laughing,” he snaps, his cheeks coloring to match his ears. “I don’t have to do this shit for you. Fucking grow up.”
“Sorry—” You cast your head back to the tin roof of the garage, and you try to regain your composure because he is right. He doesn’t have to do this for you and you should probably be grateful he hasn’t started kicking your ass for daring to laugh at him. A few pulls of air filled with the overpowering smell of gasoline and grease does nothing to quell the jitter of your nerves like it usually does. You're practically wheezing now. “Just give me a second.”
“No, fuck you. I do this shit out of the kindness of my heart and you have the fuckin’ nerve,” — he tries to pry your hands away but you tighten your grip to deter him — “Let go, damn it!“
“Please, Katsuki,” you’re gasping for air but it does help relieve some of the tension that started to leak into your bones. “I’m just nervous, remember?”
That must quell his wrath because hands that sought to push you away lose their will, loosening around where they tried to pry you off. Instead, they find shelter at the curve of your waist. He cups just beneath your rib cage, his fingers locking against doughy flesh, and then pets down your side every time your body jumps from every stifled laugh.
It takes longer than a few seconds, your laughs losing their wind and your smile shrinking into its little half-moon slowly, but it does eventually stop—and when the time comes, you find he’s already staring at you. There’s no scowl or scathing look or pout. All you’re greeted with is an expression that reeks of something gentle and reverent.
It should shock you to see, this sweetness, but most of the surprise comes from how real it feels. You’re still coming off of a rush of endorphins, happy little chemicals that eased you into his gaze, but it doesn’t quite feel like the lingering effects of adrenaline that legitimatizes the glint in his eyes. You know how authentic that expression is because It rests along your tongue and the roof of your mouth whenever you are caught up in your own feelings, filling your throat with a roaring heat that sears your insides with want.
It’s just practice, you stress half-heartedly.
His hands slide down to grip the fat of your hips with strength that surges up his arms, has the blue-green criss-cross of his veins jumping and the muscles of his arms flexing. He pulls you even closer until your thighs press tight against the insides of his.
His torso expands and rubs pleasantly through the thick material of your coveralls and, maybe if you weren’t too busy marveling at the novelty of it, you would have noticed the singular stutter of his breathing when you lean into him even more, squishing your chest against him with the weight of your body. “He’ll do that,” He says, his voice low and rumbling while his eyes bounce around, never staying anywhere for long. “He’ll do that if he isn’t a complete moron.”
Your fingers twist and curl the edges of his hair. It's a necessary distraction from how one of his hands rubs a slow stroke up and down your side. He tilts his head back a bit to maintain eye contact, and you find that you like that, feeling his eyes gazing up at you. A dull thud echoes in the quiet still of the garage; The toe of one of your boots knocks against the tower of tires Katsuki has perched himself on and it’s all because you want to feel his head tip a little further into the cradle of your palm. “How do you know?”
His eyes finally halt, fixed on a singular point on your face, your mouth, with drooping eyelids. Has anyone ever looked at you like that before? He grumbles back a slow and reluctant answer. “I read a lot of Shoujo.”
Normal conditions would call for a round of teasing. He’s never openly admitted to reading those, always telling you to ‘mind your own damn business’ when you ask. It should be ridiculous that someone like Katsuki, who looks like he would be averse to romance in all its forms, indulges in stories about characters falling deeply in love.
It doesn’t feel so absurd now that you’re chest to chest with him and his eyes feel like they’re brand-hot while they trail the shape of your face.
Maybe if you ask nicely, with enough sweetness and pleading, he’ll tell you what it is that he enjoys reading the most. There are endless possibilities in romance; Maybe he reads about enemies falling in love or maybe he sticks solely to meet-cute storylines about starstruck strangers. A secret hope wriggles itself deep in the crevices of your heart, flipping your stomach obnoxiously once more; Maybe, if you’re lucky, he’ll have a soft spot for romance between friends.
The way he’s looking at you now almost makes the last week he’s spent biting your head off worth it. It also makes you forget how you earned this position, the two of you spun around each other. It feels too natural, perfect in the way that he’s meant to have his hands on you and your hands on him.
“Changed my mind.” For all your sluggish movements and syrupy thoughts, your heart works itself into overdrive when he says that. He doesn’t let you spiral for long. “Close your eyes,” he whispers.
The request causes hesitation. What if this leaves you wrecked to the point that you’ll never be able to get over him? Is this really the type of thing you should do before a date with someone else? What if Katsuki doesn’t like it?
Because it’s Katsuki, he sees all the trepidation flash across your face and makes the decision for you. A hand that’s sat still on your side, one that’s only played with the give of your hip, moves. It ghosts over your waist, slow on its ascent up the side of a breast. Higher, the length of your neck shivers when his calloused graze thin skin. His middle and index fingers extend, parting to fit the width of your eyes before resting over your brow and pulling down. The pads of his fingers are rough here too but also gentle and warm on your eyelids. “Close ‘em.”
Your eyes flutter at the raspy demand. You hear a car fly past the shop and a gust of warm, early September air whooshing through the garage door. The wind ruffles the edges of your hair but never touches your cheek; Katsuki’s hand bats away the humidity, his thumb rubbing dizzying tingles into the skin.
The tickle of his breath results in the swipe of your tongue along your cupid’s bow—you only miss Katsuki’s bottom lip by a centimeter, not that you notice. You work through the jumble of your throat, swallowing around the ball of nerves that grows the longer he hovers. “I thought it didn’t count if I couldn't look you in the eye?”
“Shut up,” he rumbles, nowhere near as scathing as he usually is when he demands your silence. “Couldn’t handle you lookin’ at me like that.”
His breath smells like the sweet-tart of citrus tic tacs, the same ones he refused to share earlier. Giddy is the best way to describe the emotion bubbling up. Looks like you get a taste after all. “Why not?”
Your eyes stay resolutely closed, his mouth stays resolutely shut. You scratch at his scalp a little meanly but the low grunt he lets out is more relaxed than hurt. “C’mon, Katsuki.“ Why wouldn’t he be able to handle you looking at him in any type of way?
His voice is so low on your ears that if you weren’t already hanging off of his words you would have surely missed it. “Ya keep lookin’ at me like that and it’ll be me you’re goin’ on a date with.”
It’s soft, much softer than Katsuki seems capable of, when you feel the first press of his lips.
And It’s good. It’s so good you completely forget the nerves and the implication of his words. They just — whoosh away with the wind of another too fast car and each wet smack of his lips. Everything you know fades out of existence and all you can do is fall into him, leaning more and more of your weight into his soft squeezes and the clenching muscles of his stomach shamelessly. You don’t even have it in you to be embarrassed when your teeth clink or someone bites too hard on plush bottom lips. He takes it all in a stride, almost seems to revel in it as much as you do.
And maybe you weren’t as hopeless as you thought because you seem to match his pace and finesse with little trouble. Katsuki pants and shudders and pulls at you with increasing force. His fingers flex and clench along your body, trailing dangerously low on your back with one hand and slowly rubbing the side of your belly with the other. He whines when you clench his hair in your fist and lean his head back for better access to the curl of his tongue, moans low and rough when your body sags against him and you feel a tell-tale hardness straining against his jeans.
He’s the one that pulls away first. The only thing that stops you from licking into his mouth again is a little shove to your hips and a low croak.
“E—enough,” he clears his throat, and the air of nonchalance he’s imitating would be more believable if he wasn’t running his tongue over swollen lips, if his fingers weren’t twitching to touch more and his eyes weren't trained on the heave of your chest. “You’ve got no reason to be nervous about your dumb fuckin’ date.”
He might be able to change the subject easily but you can’t. You’re dazed, practically swaying in your work boots between his thighs. Date? Nervous? You aren’t nervous anymore and you aren’t thinking about a date with Mirio. Everything seems so far away now, hardly even a blip on your radar. Unimportant. All you have left swirling in your head are ways to get your mouth on him again without seeming too desperate.
“You’re blushing.” You’ve missed the migration of his deep flush because your eyes were closed. The blush has moved from his face and ears down toward the thick of his neck, maybe even the valley of his chest. You trail a finger down one scalding cheek, the same shade of rouge that covers the pert of his nose. He freezes in his pursuit of making distance. “Did you like it that much, Katsuki?”
You should know better than to ask him that and it’s only confirmed when he slaps at the hand on his cheek and forces you back before he jumps to his feet off of his tower of tires. He looms over you once he’s at his full height with a mean snarl that curls back his upper lip. The intention of intimidation falls flat when his eyes still track the swollen mess you have for a mouth.
“As fuckin’ if.” He rips his jacket from the hood of a car, shoving his arms deep into the leather with all the aggression in the world and stomping toward the entrance of the shop with the same amount of ire. “I should’ve known you would pull some shit like that. Should've let you look like the goddamn fool you are in front of your lame ass boy toy.”
Katsuki doesn’t normally leave until your shift ends so he can drive you home. The rush he’s in to leave the garage is startling and even if you committed the cardinal sin of asking Katsuki how he feels, you’re unprepared for the change of pace. You intercept him right at the door, posing yourself as a wobbly-kneed wall that stands between his escape. “Where are you going?”
“Anywhere but this shitty fuckin’ shop!” He spits it out all mean but he doesn’t push through you to leave like he normally would. He stands with clenched fists and glares down at you even though he’s supposed to be storming out of the garage.
“Okay,” you breathe it out, a little dreamy and a little defeated. You don’t really want him to leave, not when you easily just had the best kiss of recent memory and with the same friend who’s been so aggravated since Mirio made his appearance on your radar. But you know from how he shifts from foot to foot that any conversation about it right now would just make him act like a caged animal. “Alright, Kat. Just one more thing before you go.”
“What do you want now?” His sharp edge dulls itself a bit from curiosity. You hope to god you’re reading the room right.
You steel your resolve and rise to the tip of your toes. With the collar of his jacket cuffed in your fist, you drop a final kiss on the corner of his mouth. He reacts so fast, not even questioning it and already working to move his mouth so it’s placed squarely against yours. The soft pucker of his lips trying so hard to greet your own only builds the hope you buried in your chest.
The smile you give him when you’ve pulled away must be a lot to take in because he avoids it entirely. You don’t let him run for long; You cup the underside of his chin and pull him to face you head-on.
“I’ll call you later, yeah?”
You only get a single half-second of his disbelief before his wide eyes strengthen to their normal steel with that little something from before, that pillow-soft glaze of affection and want. The response he grunts back confirms what you see and what you felt when he held you in his hands and kissed away your thoughts. “Nah, I’ll call you. I have some shit I got to tell you.”
And then he leaves. He nudges you out of the way with a firm grip on your waist before he turns his back to you and marches out the garage door. He never fully looks back either. All you get is a single glance out of the corner of ruby eyes when he fixes a nonexistent fold of his jacket before he leaves you alone with the hum of an archaic vending machine and the phantom impression his hands left on your body.
And you just watch him trudge down the sidewalk. You memorize how the sinking sun paints his hair and the tenseness of his shoulders from how he has a hand shoved in his pocket and his little paperback book clenched in the other. You lose sight of him completely when he passes the dingy corner store you always buy coffee from.
You already have an inclination about what his call will be about. If his goodbye and the reaction to the sweet little kiss you placed on the edge of his mouth are anything to go off of, you really do have nothing to worry about — nothing to worry about because Katsuki is going to put an end to your lovesick misery without the help of Mirio. You can barely contain the excitement from gushing out of every pore.
Your next course of action is pretty much decided then and there and you waste no time once he‘s gone. You claw your phone from the deep pocket of your coveralls, you pull up Mirio’s contact info, and let out your sixth sigh of the afternoon.
Katsuki’s soothed your nerves but, in doing so, he’s left you with a whole new problem. Now you need to figure out the right way to tell Mirio that you can’t make your date because you’re seeing someone else.
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i cant put more T^T
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Wouldn’t it be fucked up...
(BNHA 335 spoilers ahead!!) (tw: gore)
...if Hagakure decided to confess? But picture it like this: she’s on the field with her classmates and her teacher. She kindly asks for Aizawa to use his power on her.
For the first time, everyone takes a look at the real Hagakure, as she tells them about her and AFO’s plan. How she planned her betrayal and how they had planned for her to guide them to a trap, which would get their quirks stolen, and their corpses would be used for future nomus.
But... they’ve been so kind to her. So lovely and genuine. They had loved her despite never seeing her, despite not being “the smartest”, or with the coolest quirk. Tearfully, she tells them where AFO is hiding, everything she knows about his future plans, and she says sorry, and that she loves them.
Aizawa screams at someone to bring Recovery Girl as fast as possible. She wasn’t on her usual hero costume. He was too shocked to realize earlier. That this meant her she lied about her quirk being a mutation.
That she felt guilty enough to die for her betrayal.
At this point, everyone knows what happens if you betray AFO. She looks back at Aizawa. His eyes are red and straining. There is no water hero nearby to help him keep his eyes open.
Mina is shaking Hagakure, asking her why, asking her why here and not someplace safer, why now, and she doesn’t have the heart to tell them that she knew Recovery Girl wasn’t near at the time, so AFO wouldn’t suspect her confessing and send someone to kill her before she spoke.
Momo is desperately creating eye droppers, as Aizawa’s already ran out. But it’s been too long. Too long, and his eyes sting and feel so heavy; he really wishes he had ignored his student’s request, told her “This is not the time,” and realized that, with her statement, he should have known there was something else she wanted to delete.
Being so close to AFO made the scene much, much gorier than Deku would have expected. Lady Nagant was on the verge of death, and she was miles away from AFO.
Hagakure became invisible. There was a light, a wave of energy, and a nauseous constant spluch of little bits of flesh hitting the ground. They didn’t see her blow up, but they could feel her warm, flesh blood splattered on their skins. Mina, who had to be forced back by Kirishima and never once stopped crying her name, could also taste Hagakure.
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02:47 am | Dabi
Warning/Disclaimer: mention of sexual themes
A/N: the drama in his family is literally my fav part in the manga
It was after, when their movements stopped, when their bodies detached, that he understood. When the reality that awaited him came back, he understood how much he had loved it.
So, he called her back.
Again and again. He invited her to protect him from his nightmares. He snuggled in her neck and embraced that feeling which was so foreign to him. He didn't let go of her during the night, being able to detach himself only at the appearance of the first ray of sun. And when he found that the sun was too much in a hurry, he grumbled before pulling the curtains to obtain back this darkness, this excuse to enjoy a few more moments of her comfort.
"Love isn’t for everyone"
That’s what his childhood had taught him, another curse he probably owed his father. And yet how was he supposed to name that feeling that grew within him every time he opened his door?
Night after night, what started as a quick fuck to relax transitioned to a much more passionate exchange. The touches became longer, tender and delicate. Words were now sung under the pleasures they exchanged. Their eyes opened up, met, and discovered a new addictive beauty. Their bodies wouldn't separate, the sun ignored if not thanked for illumining their attraction.
It may not have been love, but he knew that there was something so strong between them that they were able to make love while thinking only of themselves. And that, that was enough to make him feel alive.
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How would yanderes TodoBakuDeku react to reader dating someone else and the dude treats reader really well and both of them are in love? Would the yanderes still try sabotaging the relationship? And say, do you write for Demon Slayer too?
Okay, first of all, I unfortunately haven't watched Demon Slayer yet, mainly because I was waiting for the chance that I could marathon it, watch at least a good chunk of it in one sitting, which is the way I prefer to watch anime. And honestly, it's about time I've watched anime again, 'cause I think it has been like months since I last watched one.
To answer your question, yeah I'll write for Demon Slayer. 😋👀
Edit: I'm in quarantine 😐, so I might just end up doing it.
/ / / / / / / / / / I chose a random name– Hiro for your boyfriend, 'cause I didn't really like writing (boyfriend's name), but let me know if you'd actually prefer that. ⟵(๑¯◡¯๑)
"Hey, babe." Hiro cooed as he bent down to place a small peck on your forehead and sat down beside you, trying his best to ignore the piercing glares the three males sitting opposite of you shot at him. "Hey." You smiled at him, completely oblivious to the tension.
"Good morning, Hiro.." Midoriya spoke up with bright enthusiasm and elbowed Todoroki and Bakugou under the table, which Bakugou responded to with a click of his tongue, while Todoroki simply cocked an eyebrow at the greenette. "It must be soooo~ convenient to be the teachers' favourite.." He drawled with an amused smirk.
Hiro's eyes twitched and he forced himself to smile at Midoriya as he draped an arm around your waist, pulling you into him. "What do you mean?" You leaned your head against his shoulder, just able to see Midoriya's spoon bending in his hands. "I mean, you're the only student NOT part of the hero course, yet still here almost all the time." He said with gritted teeth.
"Well, yeah." He turned his head towards you and laughed. "After all, I can't imagine a day without my love." "That's way too cheesy, mate!" You playfully hit his chest and picked up a piece of (food of your choice), and began munching on it. "Ah, here." Hiro raised a hand to wipe off your face and grinned. "It would've been enough to tell me, ya know.." You pouted as you began playfully bickering with each other, lost in your own, small world.
"Midoriya.." Todoroki spoke quietly as he boredly messed with his food. "..Yeah?" The boy answered without looking at him, his gaze completely focused on the couple. "I'm happy that Y/N's happy, but I'd rather she wasn't with someone else other than me." "Yeah? And what the fuck do you want us to do, icy–hot?" Bakugou chimed in, his voice the complete opposite of what he said. He sounded more amused than angry, although there was still hint of that.
"We could break them up. He's obviously not good enough for Y/N, and it's also obvious that she's only dating him because she's too kind." Bakugou and Todoroki stared at Midoriya for a few seconds as they slowly processed what he had said. "And how do we do that?" Todoroki asked with curiosity and cocked his head. "It would be easier if we just got rid of him immediately." "We can't. At least not now." "Why?" "We have to show everyone how worthless he is, so that Y/N could finally stop going out with him out of pity." Midoriya reasoned hastily, almost as if he was afraid that if he didn't, something would go wrong. "....After that, I'm sure Y/N would really appreciate it if we gave her control on what to do with Hiro." He smiled innocently as Bakugou snorted at the controversy between the greenette's physical appearance and personality.
"And I have an idea.." Midoriya looked around and beckoned the two to lean closer to him. "Oi, nerd, this is way too suspicious." "Bakugou, would you please just shut up?" "I-..." "Anyways, here's what we're going to do....."
You gotta love it when you somehow mess up and Tumblr's just like: Oh, you wanna reset what you've been writing for an hour? Here's a challenge too– you can't undo. 🙂
Bet you don't even remember what you wrote.
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Bnha Yandere Neighbor Wars
A series of headcannons, drabbles, and oneshots that will center around two characters trying to win you over. Alright so for an example it would be Bakugo vs Deku where you move in to your new house and on your right side that's where Izuku lives and in the house to the left would be Bakugo. Whether it's seasonal or just everyday life they will fight for your attention-now whether you're oblivious or not will be up to what you guys think and what those characters work best with. I hope I make sense with this and please let me know who you want to compete in the neighbor wars. I’m willing to do poly ships and I have some ideas but if you tell me what you want I can do that too.
Ex: Bakugo Vs Deku
Kiribaku x Tododeku
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Bakugo: okay, since we’re living in dorms now, there’s some shit y’all need to know
Iida: it’s good of you to open up, Bakugo!
Bakugo: fuck off, I don’t mean me. I mean about Deku.
Uraraka: shouldn’t he tell us himself? It’s pretty rude to expose his secrets
Bakugo: these aren’t fucking secrets. They’re safety precautions.
Kirishima: so manly that you’re concerned about him!
Bakugo: I’m not. This warning is for *you*. If you don’t listen, it’s not my problem.
1-A, nervous: ...
Bakugo: if you see him out of his room past midnight, do 👏 not 👏 approach 👏 him 👏 and call me immediately. I don’t care if I’m sleeping, wake me up and tell me where he is. Do not approach him.
Midoriya: this is a little dramatic Kacchan
Kaminari: I don’t get it. What’s the big deal?
Bakugo, grimacing: this little shit sleep-fights. It was bad enough when he didn’t use his quirk. I’m telling you for your own health. If you don’t want to spontaneously fucking die, do not interact.
Midoriya: it’s not as bad as it sounds.
Kaminari: I’m sure it’ll be fine dude
——————————One Week Later——————————
Bakugo: what did I tell you?
Kaminari: don’t approach him after midnight
Bakugo, turning to Kirishima: and what did he do?
Kirishima, sighing: approached him after midnight
Bakugo, to Midoriya: and what did YOU do?
Midoriya, tearing up: Detroit smashed him through a wall and destroyed the ground floor of the dorms
Bakugo, back to Kaminari: and where are you now
Kaminari, disturbed: in the hospital after briefly visiting god
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Izuku brainrot and a small scene from ‘’i’m a cautionary tale on the risks of being born” by @orkestrations
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Hybrid!BNHA x GN!Reader Headcanons
Note: All Characters are aged up, fem bodied reader but GN pronouns used
Characters: Eijirou Kirishima, Bakugou Katsuki, Izuku Midoriya, Sero Hanta, Denki Kaminari
Warnings: NSFW under the cut, Swearing, rutting, unprotected sex, breeding, dub-con/non-con if you squint, size kink, creampie, oral fixation, panty-sniffing? not proofread
Eijirou Kirishima; Puppy Hybrid
Eijirou is the sweetest hybrid you've ever had the pleasure of living with, he's polite and almost always listens, cleans up his messes, and voluntarily gives massages.
He always runs up to greet you at the door, happily hugging you and showing off how clean the house is but apologizing for not vacuuming that's because he's afraid of it but he'll never admit it
When you get home he always sniffs your entire body always sticking his nose a little too far into your pussy to see if you've gone to any new places or met any new hybrids, although if he does smell any new hybrids he'll get all pouty and jealous because you're his!
helps you cook dinners. he tries to make them by himself but he's already nearly burned the apartment down 3 times so maybe that isn't the best idea.
he refuses to sleep in his own bed, but you let it slide because he's just such a sweetheart.
When you're cooking in the kitchen he'll bend down and rest his chin on your shoulder watching you make your meals.
He only gets hostile on walks when some pervy guy is looking at you wrong or a dog sniffs a little too close to the apex of your thighs.
Will growl until you drag him at least a block away from the perpetrator.
Whines at you to not leave every time you have to go to work because "he gets so lonely when you leave"
after that, you have to force yourself out the door because if you stare into his puppy eyes any longer you'll cave.
HUGE cuddle bug, anytime you're just hanging out at the house he has to have his arms wrapped around you, loves being surrounded by your scent.
NSFW AND OTHER CHARACTERS UNDER THE CUT
Whenever you leave he gets overly needy and sneaks into your room and steals a pair of your panties out of the laundry as 'motivation'.
Desperately humps his pillow with your panties locked in his iron jaws until he finally finds some semblance of relief.
Oral. Fixation. Kiri gets pussy drunk so easily and will shamelessly beg to use your thighs as earmuffs until you're begging for a just moment to breath.
He is obsessed with your taste to the point where you're worried he may have an addiction. He lives between your legs and would have you sitting on his face for days if he could.
his favorite positions are the mating press, Doggy-style for instinct purposes, reverse cowgirl with him sitting up and holding you to his chest, but he's not super picky, as long as he's buried into you down to the balls he doesn't care.
MAJOR size kink, without prep he would tear your poor pussy in half, but with the proper prep, he fills you to the brim, and goddamn that tummy bulge sends him reeling. His favorite pastime is gently pressing his palm on the bulge and hearing your whines as he pounds even harder than before.
When he's in rut he goes straight to doggy-style, no questions asked, His primal instincts take over and the need to mount you becomes overbearing to the point where it doesn't matter what you're doing at the moment he's flipping you over and mounting you with unmatched desperation, whining like a bitch in heat and humping your ass before he even gets your shorts off.
Obvious breeding kink, he's gonna whine about breeding your tight little cunt and how he's gonna fill you up with his pups and he's gonna fuck you until it takes.
Aftercare with Kirishima includes a lot of cuddling and licking you clean but if he's feeling especially caring he'll take you to the bath and cuddle you while washing off your sore body before he ends up getting hard again and fucking you in the bathtub.
Bakugou Katsuki; Cat Hybrid
You adopted Bakugou from a hybrid shelter a couple months ago and you swear you had never met a more feral cat hybrid in your entire life.
Wouldn't even let you touch him for the first few weeks.
will steal your bed and sprawl out like a starfish just so you can’t lay down with him
"It's my bed Katsuki."
"Katsuki I swear to god I will get the spray bottle"
Sprints across the room as soon as you walk out of the bathroom with the bottle. "Get back here you little shit!"
After the fourth week, he gets more comfortable and when you fall asleep he cuddles up to you because he can't sleep if he leaves you unattended.
Hate when you bring other people over to the apartment, hybrid or not, although you can't blame him too much, he's a very possessive kitten.
Starts grooming you in your sleep because "how can you leave your fur this messy, dumbass?" he mumbles while purring aggressively
Braids your hair after you shower always ends up sticking his nose in your hair and sniffing you for a couple minutes.
does the thing that cats do when they blink really slowly to show trust and affection.
"Why are you blinking like that Katsu?"
"Mind your damn business, shitty human" he grumbles but you can hear him purring like a lawnmower from across the room. "Whatever you say Suki”
you looked up the meaning and forced him to cuddle you afterward
He'll aggressively deny that he's in rut while he's panting and desperately humping your thigh arrogant little bitch
To Katuki it doesn't matter the position, he doesn't have a favorite he just has to be inside you or he might spontaneously combust
Katu turns into a bitch in heat when he's going through a rut, he's a begging mess and he hates it so don't bring it up after the fact, or else he'll probably run away.
He begs so prettily when he's in rut it's almost endearing
If you tease him enough he WILL call you master, he doesn't give a fuck as long as you give him the relief he is desperately craving.
The only time he really takes control is when he's getting close to finishing, that's when he gets really aggressive. He'll flip you over and mount you, trusting into you with renewed vigor until you cum together.
He also cums an obscene amount, it's insane, one load, and you're filled to the brim.
Katsuki doesn't really do aftercare other than his usual grooming, but he will gladly accept it when he's all adorably fucked out.
Whines at you if you don't cuddle him after, but this is a double-edged sword because he will inevitably get hard again and you're already trapped in his arms and at the hybrid's mercy.
Izuku Midoriya; Bunny Hybrid
Izuku is so timid when you first get him, always hiding in the corners and tearing up when you try to catch him is so as but so adorable at the same time.
"Come on Zuzu please?" he keens at the little nickname, deciding maybe he will try to come a little closer.
Works himself up to sniffing your hand before zooming across the room again.
Once he gets more comfortable he's always clinging onto you, so beware any time you lay down you're going to have a 5' 6" bunny boy curled up against your thighs.
And don't you dare move if he falls asleep because if he wakes up you're gonna have to let that weigh on your conscience.
Izuku gets random bursts of energy that you so lovingly refer to as the "zoomies", where he runs around the house and jumping off the walls.
zooms right up to your face and stares into your eyes only a couple centimeters away and stares into your eyes, nose twitching and a wide smile plastered across his face before zooming away
I saw a headcanon on @miggiisdumb 's blog about bunny Izuku having the biggest dump truck of an ass and I absolutely agree, Zuzu is packin' the whole bakery and for what? you're not sure.
Izuku gets sensory overload really easily so you try to avoid taking him to overly crowded places or for fear of seeing your poor bun have a panic attack
If this does happen he desperately needs cuddles and food because the sweet bun might pass out if he doesn't feel protected.
head pats and forehead kisses are Izuku's favorites, simple actions go a long way with him.
His ears and tail are by far the most sensitive parts of his body other than his dick. if you stroke his ears or pull on his tail, he's a moaning mess, whining and begging for you to give him any semblance of relief.
His ruts are very irregular, so it's always a surprise when it comes around, one moment he'll be perfectly fine, and the next he's bucking his hips, ears tucked tightly to his head whimpering out apologies as he begins to rub his hardening cock through his sweats.
normally the strap makes him nervous but when he's in rut, he's begging you to peg him, fat tears streaming down freckled cheeks arching his back so prettily as he thrusts his hips back impatiently.
other times he becomes very dominant and will force you into a full nelson, fucking you onto his fat cock while whispering obscene thoughts into your ear, it's hit or miss.
another panty sniffer and I stand by that, although he's a lot more nervous about it compared to Kirishima. Degrading himself while using your pretty sage green lace to stroke his cock, pre leaking from the reddening tip, making a mess of the lace.
He's too nervous to ask you to please him directly, instead opting for rutting into your plush thighs until you give in
Huge Somnophiliac, he's constantly rutting his cock in between your thighs while you're fast asleep, and hearing your light moans in your slumber turns him feral.
I ran out of ideas halfway through due to new ideas consuming my brain so we’re gonna stop this here for now, I’m sorry it isn’t longer this time around<3
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Summary: Playing a game made for couples with your best friend wasn’t such a bright idea. Or was it ?
Word count: 2.5k
Warnings: 18+ (Minors, leave me and my blog alone), spanking, mention of daddy kink, cream pie, rough, dom!Dabi, praising
,, Can you hurry up already ? ‘’ Touya yelled from the living room as you were getting ready. ,, We are only going to buy groceries, we ain’t going to Met Gala for fucks sake’’ he hissed, once he realised that you ain’t answering him.
,, Give me a second’’ you screamed, as you were putting on your mascara carefully.
,, I gave you a whole fucking hour, woman’’ Touya snapped back, rolling his eyes playfully. He had to stress around a bit. Thinking about it, the two of you looked like married couple, yet you were nothing more than two best friends and roommates.
Once you were done, you made your way toward the shopping center that wasn’t that far away from your apartment. There wasn’t any specific reason the two of you were going there, you only needed some groceries to get, and you could literally get that in the store near your apartment. But the two of you decided to go out a bit, since both of you were pretty much focused on the studies last few days.
You and Touya know each other since you were little kids. Your mother and Rei were childhood best friends, so you and Touya grew up together. It was one of those forced friendships, that would have some huge development later on. As you were getting older, you started realising that you actually liked spending your time with him.
,, I hate this.. When I have money, there is nothing nice to buy, but when I’m broke as fuck, every dress is looking beautiful’’ you rolled your eyes disappointedly. Every time you don’t have much money, the stores around are having such a beautiful collections.
Of course, being your best friend, Touya always bought you clothes you had your eyes on, as a small surprise after you had a long and hard day at uni. You really loved him. Not only because of that, but simply for being him. Everyone knew how damn grateful you were for having him and your life and you really never tried to hide that.
,, Let’s go see if they have some board games, maybe we can buy something and play tonight’’ Touya suggested, grabbing your hand as he took the lead. Every time Touya would hold your hand, your heart would skip a beat. Probably because of the fact that you had one big and fat crush on your best friend.
You were not sure when did it start. Maybe when he pierced his nose, or when people started thinking that the two of you are couple, or maybe the feeling was always there, but you kept it somewhere buried in your mind. Hiding it from everyone and especially from him.
,, Oh, I always wanted to play thing game’’ Touya said, holding a small, black package in his hands. You tried to grab it away from him, but unsuccessfully.
,, What is it ? Show me’’ You squeaked excitedly, hoping it’s something fun.
,, It’s Drunk in love’’ He said, waving the small package in the air. Confusion and jealousy washed over you as you looked at the back of the package. You’ve heard about that game, it’s one for couples.
,, Should we buy it ? I really want to play it’’ He asked. Only confusion was left in your body once he asked you that.
,, Isn’t that a game for couples ?’’ You asked him back.
,, Yeah, but it really isn’t something special, after all everyone is mistaking us for couple, so i don’t see a problem here’’ Touya said, winking at you. ,, Unless you are scared’’ he added fast. You knew that he was just trying to tease you a bit, it was how he always got things his way.
,, You know very well that I ain’t scared. But Touya, that’s not something we should play’’ you said honestly. Sure you would love to play that with him, but you didn’t know what kind of game that really is, so it gave you mixed feelings.
,, Trust me, the game is not a big deal. It’s just fun.’’ He said, looking down at you, hoping you’ll agree with his suggestion. ,, Trust me doll’’ he repeated, and the moment you let a deep breath out and rolled your eyes, Touya knew that he won, making his way to the cashier immediately.
,, Let’s buy something to drink at least’’ you said, hoping that the game won’t be so bad at the end.
,, We have to, it’s a drinking game anyway’’ Touya laughed, placing one arm around you, as the two of you walked to the store with alcohol.
The two of you bought a bottle of vodka, before you made your way home. Not wasting any time, Touya helped you put the groceries in the fridge, before he opened the small package. He took two small glasses for shots, and placed them beside the deck of cards that were already on the table in the living room.
You took two normal glasses and orange juice, in case the vodka might be too much. Touya was already waiting for you, searching for some music on YouTube, as he sat on the floor.
,,Here’’ Touya offered you a cigarette, once you sat on the other side, placing one pillow under your ass. You gladly accepted the cigarette, as you enjoyed the music he found.
The two of you drank few shots of vodka, before you started to play. You weren’t sure what to expect of that game, but if you were being honest, the alcohol was helping you, even tho it was just a little bit.
,, Imma go first’’ Touya said, taking one card. ,, Describe your worst hookup ever or drink’’ he read it out lout. Okay, that wasn’t something so bad, after all, you’ve already talked about it with him.
,, Ehh, that one time I slept with Kai.’’ You said rolling your eyes as you thought about it.
,,Ah, that time when you though he’s still fingering you ?’’ Touya asked, laughing a bit.
,, Yes Touya, his dick was that small’’ You laughed, feeling a little bit more comfy about the stupid game. ,, My turn’’ you added, taking one card.
,, Reveal your biggest sexual fantasy or drink’’ You read it excitedly, wiggling your eyebrows at him.
,, Yeah, no’’ Touya laughed, taking a shot without thinking twice, leaving you all disappointed. ,, Pull another one’’ Touya said, closing his eyes because of the strong taste of the alcohol.
,, Give your parter a piggy back ride around the room or drink’’ a big smile formed on your face as you read the sentence.
,, Easy peasy’’ Touya commented, standing up. The moment he turned around, giving you a sign to hop on his back, you did it. The two of you looked like children, running around the apartment like crazy.
,, Drink if you’ve ever faked an orgasm’’ Touya said, placing the card on the table. Of course you had to drink, thanking God you didn’t have to take a shot for every orgasm you faked.
Card after card, and shot after shot, the two of you were getting tipsier and the cards were getting spicier.
,, Blindfold your partner and make them guess which body part they’re touching or drink’’ Touya read the sentence, glad he was the one who found it first. ,, Yeah, you gonna chicken out ‘’ he teased.
,, Shut up and close your eyes’’ You said thinking about what part you should let him touch. Everything was way too easy to guess. At one point you were almost sure that there was a typo on the card, and that you should touch yourself and he should guess which part, but Touya was 100% sure that he was supposed to touch you.
Taking his hands, you decided that it would be the best if he would touch your collar and breast bones. At your surprise, he was tracing his fingers lightly over your skin, furrowing his eyebrows confusingly as he tried to understand what part of your body he’s touching.
,, Collarbones’’ He said opening his eyes immediately. ,, Ok, you’ve lost, drink’’ he commanded with a smirk on his face, as he took another card.
,, Take one article of clothing or drink’’ Touya placed the card on the table, leaning back onto the lower part of your couch. When he took of his shirt, showing of his perfectly toned body covered with various different tattoos, you realised that the card was referring to both of you. Since your shirt was a bit oversized, you decided to take of your pants.
Trying to ignore the small situation you found yourself in, you took another card fast.
,, Let your partner spank you or drink’’ you read it confusedly, trying to understand what the fuck is happening. Once you understood, you started shaking your head in disbelief, following with one loud laugh. What the fuck did you get yourself into ?
,, Come on doll, come to daddy ‘’ Touya joked, spreading his arms over the couch, as you took the shot of vodka anyway, before you made your way toward him.
Not giving you much time, Touya pulled you down, bending you over his lap. ,, You have no idea how much I wanted to do this’’ He confessed, as he pulled your shirt just enough to show your ass. You couldn’t even focus on his small confession, since you were trying to prepare yourself on the upcoming spanks.
Instead of spanking you, Touya decided to take his time with you, tracing his fingers over your hips and playing with the ends of your panties, pulling them up, forming a thong with them. You were glad that some alcohol was in your system, because you were pretty sure that sober you would never survive that.
,, Now doll, be a good girl and take every single spank for daddy’’ Touya whispered, before he connected his palm with your ass cheek, making you yelp in pain. With every spank he gave you, the pain was getting intenser. But you didn’t mind, after all, isn’t that what you wished for ?
,, Such a good Girl’’ He prised, caressing the red marks he left over your ass. Once you got back on the other side of the table, both you and him started laughing hysterically.
,, Lick your partner below the waist or finish your drink’’ Touya said, smirking widely once again. ,, There’s no way I’m finishing this drink’’ He added, grabbing your arm and pushing you toward him.Touya pushed up on the couch, as he started licking your legs slowly.
You couldn’t believe what the fuck was happening. Both of you half naked, playing some overly sexual game, which led him to licking your legs. You weren’t sure what was driving you more crazy, him licking your legs or his erection that was showing under his grey sweatpants.
Touya placed his hand on your tight, giving in one strong squeeze as he was placing wet kisses on your right inner tight. You could feel his lips getting closer and closer to your private parts, but you didn’t dare to say anything.
,, Wanna know what my fantasy is ?’’ Touya asked, kissing and biting onto the skin around your panties. All you could do is nod your head quietly, lost under his touch and soft kisses.
,, You, you are my biggest fantasy. I want to have you all for myself’’ Touya said hovering over you. ,, I want you to be mine’’ he added, looking you directly in the eyes, before he started leaving soft kisses all over your face.
,, Wanna be mine ? Just you and me doll’’ He asked, biting your lip.
,, Yes’’ You answered him so fast. Fuck yes you want to be his, He didn’t even have to ask you that, you were always his.
Once he heard you say that, Touya pulled his sweatpants and boxers down, letting his hard dick jump straight up. Not breaking the kiss, he started rubbing the tip of his dick around your entrance.
,, Doll, tell me if I’m too rought’’ He said, entering you slowly while he sucked onto your neck, leaving wet love bites. You couldn’t manage to give him a proper answer, hoping that simply nodding your head was understandable enough.
Once he was fully inside of you, he gave you some time to adjust to his size before he started rocking his hips into you. He wasn’t doing it slow, and the position you were in wasn’t the most comfortable one, but you didn’t care about that. All you could think of was the pleasure he was giving you at the moment, mixed with pain.
You wrapped your legs around his waist as he rammed into you recklessly, breathing into your neck as his moves were getting stronger and stronger.
,, So tight for me’’ Touya groaned, enjoying the warm feeling your walls were giving him. It felt like you were made just for him. Placing one hand on your hip, and other one on the edge of the couch, he increased his speed, fucking you stronger and deeper than before. With every move he made, he was hitting your g spot, making you moan louder and louder. You were pretty sure that your neighbours were able to hear the two of you, but none of you gave a single fuck.
Both of you were about to cum. His groans were getting louder, and he was fucking you ever harder, while your walls were getting tighter and tighter around him, making it even more enjoyable for him.
,, You can cum inside’’ You managed to say somehow, moaning his name and squeezing your eyes shut once you reached your high.
,, I was planning to ’’ He groaned, fucking you through your orgasm, making it even better for you. After few thrusts, he spilled his seed deep into you. Moving few more times as he made sure to fill you nice and good, not wasting a single drop of his sperm. Once he was done, he collapsed on top of you, fighting for his breath.
,, I love you so much Doll’’ he said, connecting his lips with your own.
,, I love you too’’ You answered him, smiling widely into the kiss.
That night he took care of you, cleaning you, and taking you to his room, making sure that you are alright and that he didn’t hurt you. That night he made sure to clear some things out, he made sure that you wouldn’t think this was some sort of misunderstanding. Telling you how he actually always wanted to ask you out, and how that game was just a chance for him to get him where he is now. With you in his bed, locked between his arms.
That night you understood that your crush was never one sided, and that you were the reason why your best friend never dated anyone else.
Who would have thought that such a dirty game could bring people together ? Would lead them to confessing to each other. You sure didn’t think so, yet there you are, instead of daydreaming about it, you are enjoying the warmth of your best friend, roommate and lover.
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UNEXPECTED | A BNHAREM COLLAB
pairing: bakugou katsuki x f!reader
tw/warnings: pornstar!reader, pornstar!bakugou, unprotected sex, solo masturbation, creampie, nsfw (18+)
a/n: honestly, i had to do some research into the porn industry and even then i’m not entirely sure of how accurately i portrayed the scenes, so please forgive me! i had a lot of fun writing this, even though so much of it was written last minute HAHA but i hope you all enjoy!! ALSO THE HAPPIEST OF BIRTHDAYS TO MISS JO @lady-bakuhoe !! i hope this bakugou filth makes you happy and that you have the most amazing of days 🥺💖
“wait, so who am i shooting with today?” you asked your manager.
“bakugou katsuki,” he responded, giving you a knowing look.
“you aren’t seriou–there’s no way you told me this earlier,” you huffed, your eyebrows furrowing. “i would not have agreed to this if i knew.”
“uhh, yeah, that may have been why i kinda mumbled his name when you were listening to me,” he said apologetically. “can i get you a coffee?”
you stood glaring at him, contemplating your options. “how much am i getting paid for this again?”
you pinched the bridge of your nose, inhaling deeply. why him? you thought, pissed. bakugou was an actor you’d never shot with before, but you’d heard way too many tales of his shitty behavior and attitude on set. you were hoping that you’d be able to go the rest of your porn career without having to be on the receiving end of said attitude.
“next time, tell me, okay?”
“sorry, y/n, you’re right. but his videos do make a lot of money–”
“i know. but if he’s a dick to me, it’s your job to punch him. can you do that for me?” you asked, crossing your arms.
you sighed, waving your hand. “ugh, i’m kidding. it’s fine. the money’s good. it’s whatever.”
you were already mentally preparing yourself for meeting him–the infamous bakugou katsuki. so famous and adored by his fans but so hated by your fellow actresses. was he hot? sure. was he good at the craft? definitely. but was he an asshole? for sure.
“what’s the scenario again?” you asked, curious.
“typical ‘roommate walking in on you masturbating,’” your manager replied. “are you uncomfortable with it?
“nah, it’s not that–i was just wondering how i should prepare myself,” you said.
“getting ready to shoot in three minutes!” one of the production assistants called out, and a stylist hurried over to you, mascara wand in hand.
“sorry again, y/n,” your manager apologized. “hope it goes alright, though.”
“yeah, don’t worry about it,” you said, smiling reassuringly. “it’s just porn.”
you looked around, trying to catch a glimpse of bakugou before the shoot started, but he was nowhere to be found. you shrugged, figuring that he was probably around and that he’d show up in time for his part. the shoot was going to start off just with you, anyway.
you actually preferred scripts that featured solo masturbation; you’d experienced way too many moments in which an actor was actually kinda fucking awful, and you’d have to fake the living hell out of your moans to satisfy the director.
you started filming once you were ready, getting into it with ease as you dipped your fingers below the waistband of your panties, feeling the slickness of your arousal gather around your fingers.
you closed your eyes, letting yourself forget about the cameras and bystanders as your other hand massaged at your breast, rolling your nipple between your fingers. light, breathy moans escaped you, and you could feel an orgasm slowly but surely start to build in your core.
i wonder when his part comes in, you thought briefly, but not bothering to open an eye and peek to see. the director would probably make you re-shoot that if you did, anyway. what’s the script like again? i get myself off and he walks in on me? then what?
you let your questions swirl around in your head as you continued your ministrations, gradually getting yourself more and more worked up. honestly, at this pace, you might even be able to cum before bakugou even enters the set.
“oi, what’s this?” a gruff voice sounds.
you cast your eyes open in mock surprise, clutching at the nearby blanket yet doing nothing to cover yourself as bakugou comes forward, a bored expression on his face.
“h-haven’t you ever heard of knocking!?” you exclaimed, scuttling backwards on the bed.
“i did knock, princess, but you didn’t hear me,” he said, scoffing. “you were busy.”
was that even on the script? fuck am i supposed to say to that? you thought, fighting back the urge to tell him off.
instead, you merely tried to cover yourself up with the hem of the blanket, hoping he would hurry up and get the scene over with.
he stood at the edge of the bed, letting his eyes trail over your figure, his cock beginning to harden and tent in his sweats.
“are you just gonna stand there?” you asked, your mind blanking on the script dialogue.
“are you just gonna lay there?” he mocked, coming closer slowly.
“w-what do you mean?”
“you should help me, princess,” he said devilishly, coming onto the bed and slowly caging you in by his arms. “what if i go and tell everyone what i caught you doing?”
you fake whimpered, hoping your acting was enough to pass the director’s standards.
“please don’t,” you simpered, lightly clutching onto the fabric of his shirt.
“i won’t if you do as i say.” in one swift motion, he slid his arm under your back and flipped your bodies, so that you suddenly ended up straddling his hips.
… i don’t remember hearing or reading about this happening, you thought in slight alarm, but none of the people off set seemed perturbed, so you let it go.
“ride me,” he continued, looking at you expectantly. god, it was just something about that cocky fucking face that made you despise him, made you believe all the nasty rumors about him without much of a second thought. but it was also something about that cocky fucking face that made you surprisingly want to obey him, please him, make him call you a good little girl.
heat rose to your face as you cast your eyes downward, trying to avoid eye contact. you meekly raised your hips and pushed your panties to the side as you pulled the waistband of his sweats down, exposing his cock, red and swollen at the tip.
you cursed yourself for being so obedient towards him. do it just for the coin, girl. get your nut and get off the set. this is just porn.
you made sure to keep a hesitant and innocent expression on your face, acutely aware of the camera placements. a large hand slid up your thigh to your hip, and he squeezed the soft flesh out of impatience.
“you said you would do what i told you to,” he rasped, harshly smacking the side of your ass.
a soft yelp escaped from your throat, and you nodded, using your hand to pump his length softly before sliding him along your entrance.
the feeling of your arousal coating his cock caused bakugou’s entire body to stiffen, and his grip on your hip tightened until his knuckles turned white. you hated to admit it too, but the dragging of his veins along your lips made your core ache with want.
he’d had enough of your teasing, and he lifted your hips forcefully to place you right on top of him, relishing the soft oh! that fell from your lips as he suddenly filled you up.
bakugou grunted, his head starting to swim because of how warm and wet you felt around him, your walls stretching to fit around his size. you winced slightly from the pain and shock, but you were adjusting quickly, and you found yourself automatically starting to bounce on top of him, letting your breasts bounce enticingly in front of his face.
he strained mentally, trying to keep himself from being too vocal, but fuck were you making it difficult for him. he’d never had someone so tight, so fucking hot in all his years of experience in the industry. sex had become something mundane–not ever like a chore, really, but not as enjoyable as it used to be for him. and that’s what made it so easy for him to continue working in porn; he treated shoots like menial everyday tasks, knowing that he looked good and got a shit ton of views, so he could afford to be a dick if he so pleased.
but you were giving him a taste of something he hadn’t realized he’d missed.
it was something about the way you glared at him in spite of all the practiced fake facial expressions you gave to the camera. he could tell that you didn’t like him, and something about that glint in your eyes made him want to fuck it out of you, fuck you absolutely dumb and senseless until you couldn’t help but beg for more, beg for him.
your little movements were cute, but he wanted more. his other hand slid to your shoulder, his thumb pressing into the indent of your collarbone as he held you upright, thrusting into you roughly from below. lewd sounds of skin slapping skin filled the air, and you could feel the cameraman panning in closer, causing you to subconsciously arch your back.
all of the scornful, hateful thoughts you had earlier seemed to flee your mind, leaving you feeling dazed and hazy. the only thing even remotely grounding you was the sensation of his hips slamming into yours, his blonde fuzz grazing your clit with each deliberate thrust. his hand crept closer and closer to your neck until he was firmly grasping it, leaving you gasping for air and spots in your vision.
you looked down at him contemptuously, as if despising the fact that he was even able to make you feel this way. to no avail, you attempted to suppress the growing tension in your core, but you knew deep down that there was no avoiding it. despite all of your premonitions about him, your body was all too pliant in his hands.
just the way he wanted it.
he’d never fucked anyone so passionately, so determinedly as how he was now fucking you. of course, you wouldn’t have known it, but truly there was something about your eyes that made him resolute in pleasuring you. he ached to feel you cum on his cock, to feel you unravel and submit.
one particularly hard thrust upwards sent jolts up your spine, and your walls clenched around his cock as you bordered your climax.
“come on baby, cum for me, won’t you?” bakugou asked, bringing his thumb down to rub circles into your clit. that was all you could take, and you collapsed over his torso, clutching frantically to his hair and chest as you spasmed around him.
without further hesitation, he flipped your bodies, smoothly lifting your legs to rest on his shoulders as he continued to mercilessly pound into you.
your eyes were open, but you could barely see–a pair of mocking crimson eyes was all that you could make out. your breasts spilled out from the bottom hem of your crop top, giving him a delicious view. god, you looked so fucking beautiful like that–yielding and submissive at his touch, the only thing hinting otherwise being that glare in your eyes.
but even then, that glare was slowly losing its light. your eyes were half-lidded, and your gaze was becoming increasingly unfocused as your orgasm washed over you.
your breath caught in your throat when you could feel a second climax quickly approaching. part of you wanted desperately for him to stop, to give you a break, but the other half of you was thriving, hopeful that this high would last forever.
bakugou was surprised to feel his own orgasm quickly building, but he fought to hold it back. he, too, was highly aware of the people in the room and the cameras surrounding the bed, but he wasn’t fucking you for the shoot anymore. he was fucking you solely with the goal of making you unable to forget him, unable to have another orgasm without thinking of him and his fucking cock.
“fuck, so tight still,” he groaned, throwing his head back in pleasure. “i know you can cum again for me, princess.”
your mouth moved, but no sound came from your throat. you merely stared up at him, your forehead creased as each thrust forced more breath out of you.
bakugou lowered himself down onto his forearms, bringing his lips down to ghost over yours, and for a second your mind became crystal clear.
is he… about to kiss me? you thought incredulously. he’s known for not kissing in any of his videos, so why–
your thoughts were promptly interrupted as he stole the breath from you, taking advantage of your parted lips and pushing his tongue past your entrance, forcing it to dance with your own.
his mouth was hot on yours, forcing your lips wider open as he effectively stupefied you, wiping your mind blank of any thoughts.
he picked up the pace, bucking into you hard and quick, and soon enough you were moaning into his mouth, arching into his chest as you reached your second high.
tears started to glisten at your lower lash line as your cunt was overwhelmingly overstimulated, but bakugou was relentless, starting to fully chase his own orgasm.
you reached around his torso to grasp at his mid-back, leaving angry red marks where your nails clawed at the flesh. he didn’t mind, though, barely feeling any pain. the only things he was even remotely aware of was the taste of your fruit-flavored chapstick and the way your walls had been continuously convulsing around him, as if begging him to not leave.
you wrapped your arms around his lower back, pressing him deeper into you, eliciting a low growl in response.
“don’t do that–” he groaned, his own breath hitching in his throat.
“want–more,” you managed to choke out, disregarding everything you’d said about him earlier. he just felt too fucking good inside you–you wanted, needed to feel him fill you up, ravish you with everything he had.
you’d barely said a word up until then, and he was sure you two’d gone off-script early on, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. he was so, so painfully close, yet he was doing all he could to hold on just a while longer, to make you feel good, to keep feeling this–
“fuck,” he hissed, his cock twitching violently inside you as he came, white spurts of cum painting your walls. without thinking, you leaned upwards, meeting his lips once more with your own, stifling his guttural little mewls as he let himself go.
you’d done it almost automatically, as if your body was acting on impulse, yet it felt so unbelievably right. you were drunk on his touch, on his smell, on the feeling of his lips on yours and though you could feel him softening inside you, you didn’t want it to end.
bakugou nearly collapsed on top of you, leaving his cock inside of you to twitch in unison with your spent hole, your combined fluids leaking out and onto the bed.
“cut! good job, you two,” the director called out, and immediately you were brought back to the reality of the situation. it was as you had said before–just porn. it was just porn, so… why were you suddenly feeling so empty?
you tiredly looked at bakugou’s face, just inches from yours, his cheek glistening with a slight sheen of sweat. part of you had an urge to stroke it, to entangle your fingers in his soft hair.
but you repressed the urge, attributing it to some post-orgasm craze.
bakugou kept his eyes closed, unsure of his ability to not pull you into his chest if he saw your face that close to his. here you were, some pornstar that he hadn’t even really known of before–his manager handled all his bookings–yet he had this desire to hold you, massage you, take care of you. he had no clue why, though–this is just porn, right?
right, this is just porn, you thought, trying to ignore the small lump in your throat that had risen at the thought.
“good job, y/n!” your manager called out, coming towards you with some clothes and a towel. “take the rest of the day to relax.”
“ah, thank you,” you mumbled, awkwardly untangling your body from bakugou’s. he unwillingly got up, facing the other way, probably in pursuit of his own manager.
“was it bad?” your manager whispered, looking curiously at bakugou’s retreating figure.
“no no, it was fine,” you replied quietly, wrapping yourself with the towel. “it’ll be nice to rest, though.”
he nodded understandingly, packing up the rest of your belongings. “well, i’ll take you home then. call me later if you need anything.”
you smiled gratefully, pulling on the hoodie he’d given you.
later that night, you found yourself still thinking about him, goosebumps seemingly permanently raised along areas he’d touched.
this is so fucking stupid, you thought, annoyed. you leaned your elbow along the edge of the bathtub, careful to not knock over your laptop. you’d hoped that a hot bath and an episode of your favorite show would get your mind back to normal, but even that wasn’t enough.
irritated, you scrolled through twitter, mindlessly reading through your feed when a message from an unknown number popped up at the top right corner.
bakugou: is this y/n? this is bakugou katsuki
your heart pounded in your chest, and your fingers almost immediately swiped to your messages tab.
is this real? how’d he get my number?
bakugou: hope this isn’t a bad time. got your number from our managers.
hesitant, you lifted your hand to the keyboard, pausing to think of a response.
you: hi, yes it’s me
bakugou: sent a voice message
a voice message? what the fuck? you thought, wondering if you were even mentally prepared for whatever he sent.
“i couldn’t stop thinking about you. can we talk?”
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Teasing the MHA boys and What would turn them on
Some of these will be vanilla while others are...pretty kinky- Uh so yeah enjoy :D
He would over stim you for being a brat.
Even if you weren't acting like a brat and didnt deserve a punishment in the slightest, he will still over stim you to the point that you're sobbing.
You catch an attitude with him for no reason, oh you better watch out. You're getting a slap to your ass then being put over his knee and fingered till you cant cum anymore. Then he'll fuck you and still expect you to cum :)
"Katsuki please! I cant cum anymore! Please stop, please!" You pleaded for mercy as Katsuki only kept finger fucking you into oblivion. Mascara and Eye liner ran down your face as tears came running down in a heavy flow. You can't even remember what you did to deserve this punishment, but it did feel pretty good.
"This is what bratty bitches get! They don't get my cock, they get my fingers! So you better take it and like it! Cause this is the only way you're finna cum tonight!"
He would love sucking on your nipples-
LISTEN! HERE ME OUT OKAY?!?!
He just lives for your tits and all their glory! He loves how soft and squishy they are
He also loves biting them and covering them fully in different shades of purple from all the hickies he gives you.
Loves having them in his mouth in general, and because he plays with them so much, your nips have grown extra sensitive to his touch~
He would get so turned on if you pressed your tits against him or they were showing. Like in a bikini or a skimpier dress/shirt. He would lose his mind-
"K-kiri!" You moan out. A grunt comes from Kirishimas mouth that sends vibrations throw your tit. A shiver runs up your spin.
"Kiri I'm extra sensitive today! Please be- please be carful!" You cried. Kirishima then detaches from your tit with a loud pop.
"Its okay pebble! Your tits just looked so good in that dress that I had to have a taste!" He stated with a cheeky smile now pulling up the straps to your dress. "Now we have to hurry or we'll be late to lunch!"
Denki is sadomasochistic, no if, and's, or buts
He would love the pleasure of you squeezing around his length as he sends electric shocks throughout of your body.
It would stim from when you were both training together and he shocked you on accident and you moaned and he just kinda looked at you like: 🤠
Game changer hehe
"Mhm, yeah you like it when I send electricity straight to that slutty clit of yours?" He said slapping your clit as a small spark went off. You were so fucked dumb at this point you couldnt even register what he was saying. You just batted your pretty eyes and called out his name like a broken record. Pleading for more and more and more, and Denki was happy to deliver.
Sero is your own personal choker-
He would use his tape, hands, etc.
He loves you to the moon and back and only wants you to he his and only his.
I like the head canon of sero being our Latin king so imma okay into that. He would love if you call him papi and ask him to choke you during seggs😫
"P-papi! S'to much, to much!" You moan out as Sero pounds into your leaking cunt.
"Ah, can baby not take it?" Sero said with fake sympathy. You clawed at his wrist that was gripping tightly into your hip. "What is it mi amor?" He whispered into your ear as he leaned over you, body weight stretching your legs up higher.
"Choke me! P-please!" You squealed out. Sero could feel his cock twitch at hearing your beg for his hand to wrap around your throat.
Piss...NO I'M JKJKJKJK-unless👀
Okay but like for real though this man has a breeding kink JALDMDBAKL
LIKE, I've made a fic about this before but like he would see sex as a way to mate you and make you his forever
Like once you've rode his dick and hes fucked his kids into you, you ain't leavin
"Tenya! Tenya more! Need more! Need you to fill me up with your cum!"
Iida kept up his steady pace of deep thrust that felt like it was bruising your cervix everytime it struck.
"You want my cum pumpkin? You want it? You want me to fill you up and make you a mommy?" He said grabbing you by the chin and lifting you to have your back against his chest and he pounded into you deeper.
Midoriya would like thigh riding, and it stims from him LOVING when you sit on his lap
OMG THAT MAN LOVES WHEN YOU SIT ON HIS LAP
It makes him feel all warm and fuzzy and makes his heart go brrrrr<3
He would love seeing your face contort into the most lewd expressions hes ever seen from just his thigh
It would get him all hot and bothered thinking about all the faces and noise you would make when his cock split you in half
As you sat on Izuku's lap you slowly started to grind against his clothed member. You felt him twitch under your touch, hands digging harder into you hips. A bruising force you loved more than anything in the world. You turned to kiss his freckled cheek. That's when he grabs you by the waist and flips you around to straddle his thigh. You looked at him, a shock yet lustful look in your eyes. He smirks and places a chaste kiss on your lips.
"Move." He said smacking your ass. A little whimper falling from your lips. You started to move your hips back and forth against his jean covered thigh. "Ride my thigh like the dirty slut you are."
Two words. BODY WORSHIPPING!!!!
He is a body worshipping king! He lives you no matter what your size!
He is very strong and big so he can pick you up and toss you over his shoulder no matter how big he is.
He doesnt care if you have scars, moles, freckles, dimples, tummy roles, hip dips, back fat, if your really skinny, etc. He finds everything cute on you<3
"Who's my pretty doll?" He asked slowly finger fucking you while making eye contact through the mirror you are sprawled in front of.
"M-me! I'm y-your pretty doll!" You whimpered
"That's right, what a good girl you are! So perfect for me!" He says kissing your cheek and hus finger start to pump in and out of you faster and faster. A squeal rips from your throat as you clench hard around his fingers. You can feel your release coming soon.
"Go on doll, cum on my fingers~"
Okay cause this obviously or whatever but he would be into tying you upobviously, so that's a big turn on for him.
But he would also be into pet play<3
You come crawling up in between his legs begging to suck his cock and he'll almost bust right then and there-
Shinsou has finally been given a day off to spend with his cute kitty. You sink down onto the floor now crawling towards the gap between Shinsou's legs. He looks down and sees your big pleading kitten eyes staring up at him. Your hands kneading his thighs.
"What do you need kitten?"
"Can I please suck your cock master?"
Shinsou nearly busted in that moment.
Tamaki is REALLY easy to turn on
He's already easily flustered so it's even easier to work him up.
A slight feel up would get him rock hard and leaking for you to just devour him
He would be a soft dom but would also like being dominated. 1000% a pillow prince when he is a bottom. Always so needy for mommy/daddy/master.
"Tamaki?" You say, a sort of lust filling your voice as you speak to him. You lean over his shoulder, causing him to pause what he was doing. You grab him by the chin and turn his head towards your face, locking eyes with his. "Mommy/Daddy/Master wants to give you a treat since you've been such a good boy. Would you want that?" You ask leaning dangoursly close to his face, centimeters away from brushing against his pink lips.
"Y-yes bunny." He said cheeks flushed a deep red.
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—𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐒𝐞𝐞𝐦 𝐓𝐨 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐚𝐲 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭
✩pairing: Touya Todoroki x Fem!Reader
✩genre: hurt/comfort, smut
✩word count: 8.1k
✩warnings: injury and blood (nothing gory), codependent relationship (but make it cute), reader is very lonely and says "i can fix you", praise kink, degradation, unprotected sex, dry humping/thigh riding, light hair pulling, face fucking, f!receiving oral, hallucinations (dabi gets hit by a fear quirk), dabi burns reader on accident (again —because fear quirk, not with the intention of hurting her), dumbification, eating together, mentions and light descriptions of dabi's childhood abuse. dabi's kinda mean to reader at first, and does break into her apartment.
✩authors note: based off an ask from this anon, and credits to @stariwrites for the fear quirk idea. thanks to @jirou-s and @doinmybesthere for bein my beta readers <3
✩check out the art @kiyoobi drew for this fic here
✩title credit: C'mon by Panic At The Disco.
The typhoon is sitting between you on your couch, instead of raging inside. This silence is tense. Suffocating. Building between you two. There’s nowhere to go. No place to escape to. That’s okay, you decide quietly. You remember therapists who used uncomfortable silence to coax you to speak. Maybe that will work on him. Maybe it won’t.
The news reporters have been saying for the last few days to stay inside.
They’re calling this the “typhoon of the century”. You’re not sure who they are, but the words have been uttered under the breaths of so many people that you think no one really knows who they are. Nonetheless, food and water has been stocked for yourself and your cat for days now; your pantry is full of white, unscented candles in case the power goes out; and there’s plenty of ice in your freezer just in case the worst happens.
In your case, the worst tends to happen. But maybe by some miracle you will remain unscathed. Hope is always good to have, even if it’s false.
Some small part of you hoped that you’d get a letter from the Hero Commission. In times of impending disaster where there may be people injured, those who are registered to have healing quirks are called upon for extra help. Every season you wait for a letter, and every season it never comes. You’re never surprised by this; your quirk is weak. Only good for healing small cuts and bruises and overuse makes you horribly cold and starving. But it doesn’t stop the hurt from seeping in. From taking hold of your throat and laughing in your face.
Your quirk takes more energy for you to use it than what it’s worth.
It’s a painful truth that you’ve learned to live with. The ache of it is always there and remembering is akin to poking a bruise: the pain is forgotten until moments like these when you’re forced to remember. Your childhood dreams and hopes of helping people as a doctor slowly burned to ashes in front of you over the years, and all you have been left with is a shrine of everything you’ve wanted to be.
Your body is a temple of everything you’ve ever loved and lost. Your own expectation dismantles it with greedy hands. A lamb led to slaughter by fate, but the blood is soaked into your own hands.
It’s easier this way, you reason with yourself. Some days you’re even lucky enough to be able to convince yourself that you like it. You’re lucky to work from home. You’re lucky to have a sweet cat. You’re lucky to be able to live alone. You never want food or water or clothing. Everything you need is easy to attain, and you remember to consider yourself lucky every time you ever begin to yearn for more.
It’s simple. It’s quiet. Mundane. Some days it doesn’t bother you. A lot of days it does.
Maybe more isn’t something you’ve ever deserved. Maybe this is why you have an inadequate quirk, a lonely life with a cat as your only company and the highlight of your day is watching tv until your eyes are too heavy to keep them open. Maybe you did something wrong in a past life, and your punishment is a life full of nature documentaries and a lacking quirk.
You’re half asleep on your couch. You don’t work tomorrow. You’re glad, everyone would be calling in for cell phone help. The deep need to make sure loved ones are safe and okay. A feeling you’ve only seen in movies. Something that’s always been out of reach. Milo is curled behind your legs; a small orange ball of fluff with purrs that vibrate against your body. There’s an old horror film playing on the tv. Something classic, a man with a white mask and a large knife. A woman that screams theatrically when the man brandishes it before killing her. It doesn’t shock you. You’ve seen this movie plenty of times.
A crash from your bedroom wakes you up from your almost sleep. The sound of glass pummelling onto your floor is louder than the sound of the thunder raging outside; louder than the screams of the horror movie you’re watching. You’re frozen to your couch. Milo has run to some corner of the apartment — a wonderful companion yet an awful guardian—hiding from the source of the noise. You reason with yourself; try to tell yourself it's probably debris from the storm. High and fast winds that probably caused a rock or a small branch to break the window. You’re cautious when you stand regardless, knowing that you’re on your own if something happens to you.
You grab a spatula off your kitchen counter. Logically, you know this will do nothing against a person, but you have nothing else to grab and figure you’re probably being ridiculous anyways. There’s no one in your house, right?
But when you turn the corner and walk into your bedroom it’s not empty. There’s a man there. Between flashes of lighting you can see the way blood adornes his body like a shroud. You see the shape of him; long and lean and built like a panther with a mop of inky black hair. He doesn’t notice you at first. A long thin arm grabbing the other. He looks crumpled in your bedroom; like discarded paper. He’s hurt. You don’t need much light to see this; something about pain and injury that radiates off of him in waves. It’s almost suffocating to you. Being so near someone so hurt. Your palms itch with the need to help him.
The sound of your spatula dropping makes the man’s head snap towards you. You hear a gasp break from his throat before a sharp growl. You watch him step towards you, hands balled into fists as he moves. He looms over you, invading your space and making you feel warm. Too warm; heat radiates off him in waves. He’s like a small sun in your bedroom. Warm and bright despite the darkness of the room. You know you should be scared but all you feel is hypnotized by him; by the way water drops from his black hair and the purple scars covering half his face. Everything about him calls to you; the way his eyes flash when he sees you. Bright sapphire blue orbs with pupils so dilated that all that’s left is a thin ring of color.
The closer he gets to you the more his wounds stick out to you. “I could fix you!” you stammer, backing away slowly from him and raising your hands, showing him the white glow of your quirk activating; as if he’s an animal whose trust you need to earn. “I can help you.” you say more quietly. “Please.”
“Fuck off.” he seethes. His features are becoming clearer to you in the low light; a sharp nose and face full of shining silver staples. There’s a gleam in his eye that's even prevalent in the dark; something slightly sinister and untrusting.
“I’m useful.” you insist, looking at him with eyes wide. “Please.” The word hangs in between you two for a moment like a prayer.
He’s glaring at you with a curled lip; distrust lives in his eyes and he looks like he’s not sure what to do with you. Like he’s not sure why he’s in this situation and he’s trying to find another way out of it. When he speaks again he sounds like he’s in pain, like the glass on your bedroom floor moved into his throat. “Fine.” he hisses at you.
You close the bedroom door and motion for him to follow you into the living room, and he trails behind you carefully; as if he expects someone to jump out and attack him. You turn the light on and you watch him drink in the space. The cluttered coffee table full of half read magazines; the ugly patterned rug on the floor that clashes with the muted green of the walls. The way the overhead light flickers every 15 seconds. Milo is still nowhere to be found. You hope he’s okay. His home was invaded as well.
“Is your coat wet?” you ask him quietly. You know its a dumb question to ask; you can see the way the water rolls off in small beads off the back and shoulders of it. Can see the way the fabric is soaked with water.
He snorts. “Of course it’s wet. I was in the fucking rain.” His tone makes you flinch. You don’t expect the harshness of it.
“Here,” you hold your hands out to him, outstretched and welcoming. “Give it to me. I’ll dry it for you.”
He’s skeptical for a moment, but he eventually slides the tattered piece of clothing and gingerly hands it to you. He watches you take it carefully, folding it over your arm and walking away with it.
“Where are you going?”
“The bathroom.” you answer calmly. “It’s where the dryer is.”
“Oh.” he answers simply. You smile at him and say nothing. You suppose there isn’t anything else to say.
From the bathroom you can hear him sitting by the way the couch creaks under his weight. The couch is ancient; springs that creak with any sort of movement. In some strange way you’re sentimental towards the couch. It was the first thing you bought when you moved here. It’s old and creaky and you’ve slept on it many times with Milo. Spent nights crying about your lacking quirk and lonely days you spend with only phone calls from customers to keep you company. You often spend time staring outside your window during work meetings, watching couples lean into each other for warmth; the warm touch of a mother holding the hand of their child. You have lived your life from the outside looking in; watching from the windows of your apartment what it's like to live a life being touched by someone else. To live a life where you come home to someone who missed you.
You throw his jacket in the dryer, turning the knob and finding yourself satisfied by the way it clicks. You decide you like this feeling. You like the feeling of taking care of someone. You walk into the living room and see him. His eyes are looking everywhere but at you. He scans the room carefully; you watch his gaze flicker from the magazines to the worn bookshelf before settling on the tv.
You sit down carefully next to him, as if to not startle him. His eyes find yours after a moment before looking away. Everything about him makes him look on edge; the way his jaw tightens when you angle your body toward him. The way he holds his arms close to his body as if to shield himself from you. As if you’re someone he needs to shield himself from. You reach towards him slowly and watch him jump.
“Don’t fuckin’ touch me.” he spits at you; jerking his arm away from you with a scowl.
“I need to touch you for my quirk to work.” you explain, flinching slightly away from him.
“I’ll fuckin’ kill you if try shit..” He warns, voice low and full of gravel and promises.
“I know.” you tell him simply. You’re gentle when you grab his arm, gentle when you move your hands over the gap between the parts of his skin that are healed and the parts that are burned. “What’s your name?” you ask him quietly, activating your quirk.
“Why’s it matter?” He scowls at you.
“Just making conversation.” you tell him your name afterwards, handing it to him as if it’s a peace offering. He tells you his name is Dabi. When you quirk your eyebrow at him and ask him if it’s his real name he just scoffs and leaves your curiosity wanting. He watches with thinly veiled fascination as you activate your quirk; a warm white light glows across his features as he watches you work. You watch his skin pull itself back together. It feels nice using your quirk. It doesn’t get used as often as you would like. You take a pair of tweezers and fasten the staples back to his arm; ignoring the way he hisses under his breath.
You admire your handiwork when you're done; holding his arm and moving it every which way to make sure he’s healed. Your fingers gently touch his skin; tracing the spot where his scars meet his unmarred skin. You’re looking carefully; knowing your quirk has healed all of it but looking for a reason to keep touching him. He’s so warm. Like the feeling of a soft blanket on a cold day.
The drawback of your quirk hits you like a train. You’re freezing already; your body’s working overtime to keep you warm. Your stomach growls.
When you start shivering you stand up, making your way to the kitchen to cook up something warm and quick. You settle on instant noodles, turning on the kettle and waiting for the water to heat up. You can feel Dabi’s eyes boring into your back; something that feels like concern but is probably thinly veiled disrespect towards your own weakness.
You know your hopes are far too high if you’re thinking someone could care about you.
The water boils and you pour it into the pot along with the noodles. You feel goosebumps along your skin and you’re bouncing up and down on the tips of your toes trying to warm yourself up.
“The fuck are you doin?” he asks you. The threat of a laugh is hanging on his tongue. You look over at him in the living room. His eyebrow is cocked and he’s watching you with a lazy half grin; curiosity dances in his ocean eyes.
“It’s my quirk.” you explain. “Makes me cold and hungry after I use it…” you look down at the noodles, using your chopsticks to break them apart and stirring in the flavoring. “My quirk is not ah... compatible with my body. Can only heal superficial wounds with an awful drawback.” you look down at your hands and raise them up to Dabi. “I can’t feel too much in my fingertips from the nerve damage. And expending the energy has me starving afterwards.” You watch his smile drop slowly, before he turns away from you. Eyes once again fixated on the TV.
You sigh and stir your noodles more; bringing out two bowls and ladling a serving into each. You bring them over and sit next to him. You offer the bowl to him, a figurative olive branch between you both. His eyes flicker from your outstretched hand to your face, looking for any sign of ill intent. He must decide there is because he shakes his head at you. You set it down in front of him anyways.
The typhoon is still raging outside, and you find yourself grateful for his company—reluctant or not. The volume on the TV is low and all you can hear is the sound of your beating heart and the rain pattering against your windows. You’re grateful that the one thing your landlord can supply freely is heat. Your body is slowly starting to warm up. Your teeth are no longer chattering together and there’s a warmth building in your belly.
You’re both sitting in silence together. You watch Dabi out of the corner of your eye as blood red block letters scroll down the television. He’s pressed as far as he can be into the arm of the couch; arms crossed and body hunched as if to shield himself from whatever you might have to offer him.
Dabi slowly pushes a blanket towards you, not really looking at you. You think to yourself it’s his own version of an olive branch.
“Put that on.” he tells you irritably, an almost disgusted look on his face. “M’getting cold just fuckin’ lookin’ at you.”
“Careful, Dabi.” you tease. “Keep talkin’ like that and I’ll begin to think you care about me.”
“Never.” he scoffs. You wrap the blanket around your shoulders. You pretend his comment doesn’t hurt your feelings. Afterall, you’ve always been good at pretending. But Dabi’s eyes catch everything, and he watches the subtle way your body seems to collapse on itself; the hurt flashes in your eyes before it’s replaced with stone set neutrality.
The next movie plays. You’ve also seen this one. Another classic. A man with a chainsaw and a leather mask. Somewhere in the back of your mind you remember this is based on a true story, albeit loosely. You recall when you learned about the story, that it happened somewhere in America. It made you grateful you never leave your house.
Your bowl is empty. Dabi’s is still full. He probably won’t eat. This is okay, he doesn't have to eat your food, but you felt like you should offer. You remember your mother always had food ready for you. A silent way of saying welcome home, how was your day, and I want you to eat well.
The typhoon is sitting between you on your couch, instead of raging inside. This silence is tense. Suffocating. Building between you two. There’s nowhere to go. No place to escape to. That’s okay, you decide quietly. You remember therapists who used uncomfortable silence to coax you to speak. Maybe that will work on him. Maybe it won’t.
The screams of the movie and the torrential downpour of the typhoon lull you to sleep. It’s easier to fall asleep with Dabi on your couch. You’re not sure why this is, but you’re not mad at it. Somewhere in your sleep —or deep in your dreams—you hear the faint sound of chopsticks clinking against a bowl. The creak the couch makes when someone sits deeper into it. When someone gets comfortable. It’s nice like this. Something vaguely companionable settling into your chest.
For the second time tonight you are almost asleep. Almost. Before you can, there’s warm hands around your throat. Your eyes snap open, your fingers grab at Dabi’s wrists weakly; dying for any sort of air.
“If you tell anyone I was here I will burn your apartment down with you in it.” you know by the way he says it he means every word. He lets your throat go and you cough, sitting up and grabbing your water bottle. You can’t find it in yourself to be scared though. You never planned on saying anything anyways. Besides: who do you have in your life to spill secrets to?
You swallow before speaking, nodding your head dumbly. “Okay.”
When you wake in the morning, you notice his bowl is empty.
The window is taken care of. The glass is swept away and there’s a bag taped over the window. The carpet is slightly damp under your feet, but nothing too serious. If you put a towel on it now it’ll be dry by bed time. You wonder if this is how he says “thank you”. By leaving things taken care of in silence.
Dabi left sometime in the middle of the night. You’re not sure when. You didn’t hear him leave. You supposed entering and exiting quietly is something he would be quite good at, given the nature of what he does.
You wonder if he’ll stop by again. You wonder if he’ll be kinder next time. You doubt it.
You’re not sure why you like him, really. He makes for terrible conversation and has a complete lack of manners. He doesn’t say thank you, or please. Doesn’t show any sign of gratitude for a cooked meal. He barely speaks to you, in fact. Barely even looks at you when he does speak; has no opinions on movies or tv shows or much of anything. Most conversation with him is limited to grunts of acknowledgement and quipped replies that border carefully on rude. But maybe it’s the loneliness of your current life that makes you grateful for his presence regardless.
Your day is mundane, like most of them are. Frantic calls about when service will be available in certain areas due to the typhoon; questions about spotty service and missing relatives. People who just want to know that those they love are okay.
In the back of your mind you’re wondering if Dabi’s going to show up again. You wonder if you should brew a pot of coffee in case he comes by late at night but you don’t want to look like you’re desperate for him to come by —though you are. You don’t hear him come in; don’t even realize he’s standing behind you until you feel his breath on your neck.
You jump slightly and tilt your head at him. “When did you get in here?”
“10 minutes ago.” He answers. “You’re kind of oblivious. I could’ve killed you.”
“You wouldn’t.” You narrow your eyes at him and he smirks; eyes half lidded and mouth lopsided. “Through the window?”
“Well,” he snorts. “Definitely not the front door. I came through the window. S’not fixed yet.” He looks at the worry on your face, watches you turn the tea kettle down and start walking in the direction of your bedroom. He holds an arm out to stop you, sighing and rolling his eyes. “I put the plastic back over it. No need to worry about your cat.”
You snicker. “So considerate….” you turn the temperature on the kettle back up and decide to test the waters with him. “Keep coming back like this and I’ll begin to think you like me or something.”
You watch him sling a backpack over his shoulder and put it on the ground, crouching down to unzip it. “Yeah we can’t have that,” he mutters dryly. “And I can’t have you thinking I owe you one.”
You smile to mask the pain of his words; hiding the knife that's just twisted itself in your gut with a laugh. “No, we definitely can’t have that.” He shows you what’s in the backpack, it’s full of snacks. You look up at him, a smile ghosting your face. “Did you rob a convenience store?”
He lifts a hand, knocks your head with it slightly and you laugh. “Shut up and stop asking stupid questions.”
He follows you quietly to the couch, sitting across from you. He’s not horribly injured today. Mostly just scrapes and cuts that don’t take much out of you to heal, but you find yourself eating the snacks he provided for you anyways.
“Do you wanna pick the movie tonight?” you ask him, holding your hand over your mouth to stifle a yawn.
He shrugs, and rests his head against the back of the couch. “Couldn’t care less about what dumb shit you wanna put on.” Out of the corner of your eye you see Milo walk into the room, jumping on the arm rest and cautiously walking over to Dabi. He makes a shooing motion with his hand, and Milo takes the opportunity to rub his cheeks against the tips of his fingers. “This cat has no boundaries.”
You cock your eyebrow at him. “Of course not. He’s a cat.”
He looks at Milo distastefully. “Annoying.”
“Be nice to him,” you warn. “He lives here too.” He looks over at you indignantly before looking away. Grumbles something into the hand that’s resting against his chin. You watch him lean back subtlety, resting his foot against the coffee table.
You pick a movie you’ve already seen, and Dabi has no complaints. You debate asking him what he’s thinking when you notice the far away look in his eyes as he stares out the window. You wonder if there’s anything you can do to help him relax, but he catches you staring. Gives you a strange and indecipherable look before he fixes his gaze back out the window. It makes you feel far away from him; seeing so clearly that he’s dreaming of a different world and you’re stuck looking at it from the outside in.
You’re tired after a while, the sound of the movie playing in your ears as you rest your head on the arm of the couch. You wordlessly reach out your hand for the blanket that hangs on the back of your couch, but Dabi grabs it for you; unfolding it and throwing it on top of your body. You mutter a sound of thanks weakly, but he says nothing. Just hums from inside his chest and keeps his eyes focused on the TV.
You fall asleep to Milo purring as Dabi stroking his ears. You wonder, somewhere deep in your mind, if Dabi knows that you saw.
Your window got fixed early this morning. The landlord explained how to lock it, but you felt strange when you did it. It felt odd under your hand; to move the lock over and feel the way it stays in place. You don’t like the way it feels, so you move the lock back over, deciding to keep it that way. It’ll be easier for Dabi to get back in that way, and it’ll be easier on you to have one less thing to remember to do at night. You’re not scared anyways. You don’t have anything worth taking. Not unless the burglar is looking for a cat that runs at the sound of loud noise and a person whose only thing of value is their vintage copy of The Hobbit.
You don’t really care for your landlord. He’s too chatty. He asks nosy and invasive questions about your life. The people around you mind their business. It seems he’ll never get the hint that he should do the same.
He kept asking you questions. “What happened?” You just shrugged, your arms crossed and leaning against the door frame. You want him to leave. “I’m guessing it was the storm?” You shrug again. He looks at you out of the corner of his eyes and sighs. “Well…. Don’t let it happen again.”
You say nothing to his comment —not sure what to say except it wasn’t really your fault. You’re still not sure if it was Dabi or the storm that took your window out. Regardless, you don’t care to know. It was broken, and now it’s fixed. That’s all that really matters to you.
You’ve started to expect Dabi at night. Most nights he comes, some nights he doesn’t. But every night you’re cooking food for two just in case he decides to grace you with his presence. It’s a peculiar thing that happens; a strange dynamic that wouldn’t work for most people but works just fine for both of you.
You heal Dabi and feel useful for a while. And Dabi gets a warm meal.
It’s not much but it works, even though you feel like you enjoy the company more than he does. You could spend hours agonizing over whether or not he even likes you, but it would only cause pain and spikes of unnecessary anxiety. You know he’s a villain and by this logic you can assume he doesn’t really like much and you should just consider yourself lucky he spends time with you at all.
But there’s things he does that makes you question all this. Makes you wonder if he does care about you. He brings you snacks and tells you to eat after you heal him. He doesn’t make fun of the movies you choose to watch —letting you choose the movie is a love language in itself, you think— and you’ve even caught him absentmindedly stroking Milo’s ears.
You’re staring at a pot of noodles that are breaking down in your stove and thinking about all the work you have to catch up on tomorrow —due to how long your landlord lingered— when you hear the telltale sound of the window sliding open. Dabi’s footsteps are heavy, and you wonder how badly he’s managed to injure himself because you can hear his hand sliding against the wall as he walks down the hallway.
“Oh thank god you’re here!” you laugh, turning down the heat on your stove. “My landlord was here this morning and the guy is so —” He looks strange when you finally turn to face him. His body is crumpled and leaning against the side of the couch, knees to his chest on the floor. His pupils are blown wide; body shivering. You can see sweat coating his inky hair and making tendrils that stick to his forehead. He looks so fragile; so broken. You watch his chest move up and down, see his hands tug at his hair as his eyes dart all over the room. “Dabi… what’s wrong?”
“T-t-there was….” he’s gasping and sputtering; pants in between his words. You walk over to him slowly, as if he’s a wounded animal. He backs away from you, pushes his body so hard away from you that you hear the couch hit the wall. “Someone came after me… h-had a f-fear quirk.” You watch him sob; watch his fists clench and unclench, fingers digging into the carpeted floor so tightly they turn white. “C-can you… can you—?” He looks up at you after a moment; the words he’s trying to say seemingly turning to lead in his mouth and dying on his tongue. You walk over to him carefully; crouch a few feet in front of him and scan his body for any injuries.
“I can’t heal something like this, Dabi.” You tell him quietly and the way he looks at you like you’ve betrayed him makes your heart feel far too big for your chest; makes it feel at least 5 sizes too big. The blue color of his eyes is fading into something dark now; something full of terror and regret and something else strange that you can’t quite place. You’re careful when you stand up, turning and going back to the stove. “Why don’t you sit on the couch, yeah? I’ll cook something for the both of us and we can eat and relax until the quirk wears off?” He doesn’t say anything, just nods his head and brings his knees to his chest.
You can feel his eyes on you as you move around the kitchen, watching you intensely. You’re careful to move slowly; not wanting to move too fast and trigger him. The tension in the air is almost tangible, like you could easily cut it with a knife.
You grab a warm bowl from your dishwasher, setting it onto the counter next to the pot of noodles you have boiling on the stove. “Why don’t you pick the movie we watch tonight, okay?” you tell him. “Probably no horror tonight, but we can find a nice comedy or something. Does that sound good?”
Dabi doesn’t answer you. You suppose he’s too nervous, that he’s busy trying to calm down. You turn the stove off and turn to him. He’s sitting on the couch, looking at you strangely. Like he’s terrified of you.
Your body is growing taller and taller and your eyes are getting bigger and bigger and there’s something strange happening to your hair. It's turning a fiery shade of red that looks an awful lot like his father’s and your body is filling out the same way as Endeavor’s. You’re looking so much like him that he can’t even recognize you; can’t see the kind eyes he’s learned to find a home in or the gentle curve of your lips or your cocked eyebrows when he says something you don’t find agreeable. He can’t believe it; that his father is standing in your kitchen right now ladling out noodles for him to eat and for once the thought actually terrifies him —terrified to have him so close when he’s not in the headspace to actually do anything about it— instead of filling him with sadistic joy.
You —no, Endeavor— turn towards him with a steaming bowl of food for him and it’s a knee jerk reaction that has him activating his quirk and darting towards your window.
You see fire and then feel it; watch it flicker and tickle your skin. You activate your quirk on instinct; watch the white glow of it cover your arm all at once. You barely felt the burn of it before you’re healed. You flex your hand, admire how well your quirk healed it. You bolt as well as you can to your bedroom. You should’ve been more careful with the bowl, knowing it would be hot from both the dishwasher and the noodles.
You’re tired, you’re barely able to push the window back down. Healing Dabi means you’ve gotten better, but the drawback is still there.
You shuffle to your bedroom — exhaustion making your bones heavy — and pass out on your bed.
Touya Todoroki is tired of feeling like there’s blood on his hands.
He hasn’t gone far from you. He’s in the alleyway behind your apartment. He can’t get the image of your tear streaked face out of his mind. The way you shrunk away from him in fear. Your raised hands trying to protect himself from his flames. He feels awful, terrible even. Disgusted with himself.
Even worse, he feels like his father. The only thing that flashes through his mind is the raised hand of his father and the cowering of his mother and the insanity that she was pushed to.
It’s not a feeling he’s used to by any means. Guilt and shame and remorse aren’t emotions that tend to live in his chest. He’s much more accustomed to things that aren’t quite so soft. Moreso used to feelings like apathy and detachment.
But for a while now a different feeling has been crawling into his chest. Something nasty and warm that makes his throat close up and his stomach turn into knots. It makes him too hot. Makes him feel like his body is on fire again; like his quirk is activating without his consent until he realizes he was just thinking of your sleeping frame on the couch. The soft smile you make in your sleep when he caresses your cheek. They way you hum from your chest when you cook. The first time you saw him you looked at him like he held all the stars in the galaxy in his kerosene hands. No one’s ever looked at him like that. Not even his mother. He wishes he can pull out these memories from his head like a ribbon.
Dabi has to resolve himself to many things in his life: that every time he leaves for a mission he might not come back, that his life will never be sustainable for anything other than violence, and that every time he looks into the abyss it will always be your eyes staring back at him.
His heart rate is slowing back down; his body has stopped shaking. He doesn’t feel nauseous or irrational anymore. All he can feel is overwhelming guilt. Memories of the look of betrayal on your face with blue flame edges. Guilt laced words and mutters of I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry that he knows you couldn’t hear.
For the first time in his life, he supposes he has to face his demons. For the first time in his life, he’s not scared to.
This is not the love story Dabi wished for as a child. This is a nightmare that happens to have love linger in it. He looks at love through a stained glass window consisting of everything he’s ever hoped to have while love stares back at him and shrugs at his neediness.
When he gets to your apartment he notices the windows unlocked. He supposes old habits die hard as he slides the glass up and shimmies his lean body in.
You’re sleeping on your side when he comes in; body curled around a stuffed pig and leg jutting out at a 90 degree angle. He’s gentle when he sits next to you on the bed; sliding his shoes off and crossing his legs underneath him. He doesn’t know how long he sits there until you stir; all he knows is that the sun is beginning to rise now, and when he got here the moon was still high in the sky.
You wake up quietly. Gently. Such a beautiful thing. You wake up how he wishes he could fall asleep: bright, eager, and peaceful.
You smile at him, curl into your stuffed animal a bit more; stretching your body and pressing your face harder against it.
He doesn’t know what to say. Finds sentences like are you hurt, how do you feel, and I’m so fuckin’ sorry much too difficult to say. So he does what’s easy for him; grins at you with a lazy, sardonic smile that manages to reflect off his sapphire colored eyes and cracks a joke. “Still sleepin’ with stuffed animals?”
You pout, clutch the pig closer to your body and furrow your brows at him. “S’got a name, you know.”
“And what would that be?”
You smile proudly at him. “Bacon.”
He snorts, rolls his eyes playfully at you. “I haven’t seen a stuffed animal in forever. No one I hang out with still sleeps with them.”
You scoff. “Your friends are boring.”
He clicks his tongue, looks at his hands laying limply in his lap. “My friends don’t sleep much, doll.”
You don’t say anything, just hum quietly with acknowledgement. You reach out to touch him before pulling your hand away. He reaches his out after a moment; fingers that curl slightly before straightening out and lining up against yours. He swallows before speaking. “D-did you….” he looks at you before looking away. “Are you…?”
“M’okay.” You answer quietly, moving your palm to interlace your fingers with him. “Healed myself up after you left. You barely got me.”
“S’okay.” you interrupt. “What’s happened, happened. You didn’t mean it.”
“I just…” he swallows thickly. “I’ve never wanted to hurt someone who I felt like didn’t deserve it.”
You tilt your head at him. “And you don’t think I deserve it?”
“No.” He sighs, shaking his head definitively. “Makes me feel like my father.”
“You’re nothing like your father.” your firm when you say it, as steady as rock. Nothing he could say would ever change your mind.
“How do you know?” he asks quietly, staring at hands made of kerosene and wondering why you still trust him.
You pause for a moment, bringing your knees to your chest and resting your chin there. He’s scared, wondering if you’re carefully finding a way to retract your statement. You turn towards him after some time, reaching out and grabbing his hand. It’s the first time you don’t hesitate to touch him. It’s the first time he doesn’t pull away on instinct. You take his hand and flip it over, using your index finger to trace where his skin meets his scars. You let his hand go, and place your palms gently on his face. You hear him inhale sharply before relaxing into your touch. Your fingers move down the bridge of his nose. Your thumb across his eyebrows. You settle on his cheeks, moving your fingers down the staples on his face and resting your hands on the apples of his cheeks. He hums, leaning his head into your touch and placing his own hands over yours.
“See?” you say with a soft smile. Your voice is barely above a whisper. If he wasn’t so close to you he wouldn’t have been able to hear you. “It’s different like this.”
“I’m still afraid.” he breathes out. He feels honest. Exposed. Loving you feels like a warm hand on his back; like the first rain after a drought. Like coming home after a long vacation; or the first flower that pokes through snow. Everything about you is as vast and deep as the ocean and while it’s terrifying he can’t help but want to explore. You’re gentle with him — holding him so softly it feels like floating on your back in a pool midsummer. You look so bright. So hopeful. He’s just a shadow in the light you give off; a flower thankful to be basking in the rays of the sun. You are the garden that blooms in his chest while being the sun that keeps it alive. If you are the ocean and his is the sand, he’d let you crash into him over and over again if it means you’ll always come back to him eventually.You rest your forehead against his. He’s warmer than you remember.
You chuckle slightly and Dabi can feel your breath against his skin. “I’m afraid too. But I think we both know this is a different kind of fear. I think… ah… I think this is a fear we should feel.” He waits for you to speak again, still holding his breath that you’ll change your mind about him. He feels like he’s rotting here. Like his body is slowly decaying into nothing more than ash and hopes of what could be. “I think you can be kind.” you say carefully. “I think you’re a product of all the things that happened to you.” Pain has always been the house he’s lived in, but you burned it all down with desperate hands and a kerosene heart. You’ve healed wounds that are more than surface deep, despite the limitations of your quirk.
He doesn’t really know what he’s doing when his hand finds the soft skin of your cheek and he’s ducking his head to plant a kiss on your lips. But he does know he’s elated when he finds you’re only deepening it; the way you tilt your head to give him more access and the soft sigh you make when your fingers tangle into his hair.
“Touya.” He tells you breathlessly, breaking the kiss. He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes and then opens them. His hand finds yours; thumb stroking against your knuckles. “My name. My name is Touya.”
“Touya.” you say slowly, feeling the way his name makes your tongue move in your mouth. You look up at him, smile softly and brush his hair gently out of his face. You hover over his lips, swallowing the air that escapes him. “Okay,” you whisper. “Okay, Touya.”
He’s so rough, so eager as he brings his lips to yours again. His hands grasp at every part of your body and hold you like you’ll float away. His kiss is hungry; teeth clashing against teeth as his tongue explores the wet cavern of your mouth. It’s so fucking erotic to you, two people desperate for eachother and holding onto the other as if you’ll both sink into the vast ocean of each others emptiness if either one of you decide to let go. You’re eagerly humping his leg, begging for any sort of relief on your cunt as his hand grabs the plush on your ass.
“So fuckin needy.” He chuckles into your mouth, biting and sucking down your neck as his grip on your ass tightens.“Wanna be a good girl, yeah baby? Wanna make me feel good?” Your tongue feels like lead in your mouth, thick and rolling and unable to string together a coherent sentence so you just find your head nodding dumbly; gasping and needing whimpers escaping your lips that are glossy with his spit. The only thing warmer than the alcohol coursing through your body is the warmth of Dabi’s hand pushing you down to your knees in front of him. He’s clumsy as he tugs his pants off, cock hard and erect as it springs out of his boxers. It’s thick, straight and pretty with veins running along the sides of it; a reddish purple tip with a pearl of pre sitting at the top of it that just makes your mouth water at the sight. A musty and sweet and masculine scent coming off of it and you eagerly put it into your mouth.
He grabs your hair, forcing you down his length until you feel the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. He’s brutal when he starts moving you up and down his shaft, tears springing to your eyes as you gag around him; forcing yourself to remember to breathe through your nose as your nails dig into his hips. “Fuck yeah, you’re doing so good for me. Such a good little girl for me, yeah?” You moan around his shaft; knowing your mouth is being abused but grateful that at least it’s him doing it. Just when you think you’ve had enough; just when you think you’ll suffocate around his length he’s whispering breathy praises that make your pussy throb around nothing.
And it’s so fucking sexy; the way you look up to a perfectly sculpted jawline thrown back and listen to an orchestra of moans that come from his lips that sound better than anything Apollo could compose. You realize that you love being the reason someone feels this good and you’ll do anything to have him look at you with ocean blue so blown out by lust that the pupils swallow all the color. But before you can be the one that makes him come undone he’s pulling you off of him and tossing you onto the bed; his thick and scarred fingers are tugging your panties down as your hands desperately claw at the sheets underneath you. “Lemme take care of you, baby. Wanna make you feel good too.” You feel his lips gently press to the inside of your thigh, leaving a trail of purple marks before he’s nosing at your clit. You feel the wet muscle of his tongue move your slick around as he dips teasingly into your entrance. It’s so hot to you, you’re seeing stars while he’s eating you out like it’s his last meal. He’s grinding himself into the mattress while holding your hips in place; giving you no relief from the eagerness of his tongue as it runs tight circles against your clit; a puddle of his drool mixed with your essence pooling underneath your body. He slides two fingers into you easily, hitting that sweet spot inside of you over and over again. It doesn’t take long for you to come undone; orgasm tearing through your body with a tiny mewl that comes from deep within your chest.
He lays his back against the headboard, guiding your pussy to his cock and impaling you on him. You cry out at the feeling of being filled so quickly, a strangled gasp leaving your throat as you attempt to pull yourself together enough to rock back and forth.“Fuck, you feel so good.” The tears lining your eyes make the stars in his glow so much brighter. “Such a good little cocksleeve riding me.” All you can do is moan in response, your head too full from Dabi’s cock to be able to string together a coherent sentence. “Can’t even say anything? Too stupid from my cock now, aren’t you?” His teeth tug at your nipples, overstimulated and sensitive as his tongue runs over the flesh; his other hand grasping at your breast eagerly. He cums soon enough, filling you up with his seed with a few sloppy thrusts of his hips.
He watches you for a moment; focuses on the rise and fall of your chest. The way your lips are slightly curved not with a smile but with a strange sort of awe. Like you can’t believe he’s still here. Like you know that he’ll be here tomorrow and the thought makes your entire chest feel like it’s on fire.
He is both burning and burned but you don’t seem to mind. In fact, you’ve seemed to walk into the fire and love the way it feels. It’s natural, he thinks, for warm bodies to find each other. How strange to him. He can’t ever remember his parents in love; can’t remember watching them ever hold each other for warmth, but all he can think about is the way people tend to find warm and solid things to lean on. That for so long he had nothing to lean on and he was so close to folding in on himself until he found you.
“Touya.” you mutter groggily. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to you saying his name. He doesn’t think he wants to. “D’you wan’ breakfast?”
“Yeah,” he laughs softly. “Sleep for a bit first, though.” He lights a cigarette, blows the air away from you. “You sound tired.”
You yawn and bury your face deeper into his chest. “Wake me up in five minutes.”
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katsuki x fem!reader
summary: Overstimulated bakugou headcannons. that’s it. that’s the post.
i saw @kingkatsuki blurb about this and NEEDED more.
their acc is amazing go look<3
Poor baby would be so overwhelmed, but his hands would stay hooked around your hips as you sloppily rode his cock
His mind would be fuzzy, sweat forming over his chest, face contorted with pleasure.
Baku would fill you up the first time, expecting you to slip off his cock as usual, but no. His breath would pick up as you continued to ride him chasing you’re own high, oblivious to his overstimulated cock.
When you do notice, it’s a confidence boost, from the way he’s whining your name, asking you to slow down, or the way his grip on your hips tightens.
words would slip past his lips, little “fuck y/n..wait…” or “shit princess, gonna make me cum again..”
When he did cum for the second time, you followed, milking his sensitive cock, watching his eyes roll back.
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WET DREAMS | m. izuku, bnha
˗ˏˋ midoriya izuku x f!reader
˗ˏˋ wc: 1318
˗ˏˋ nsfw (18+), somnophilia, dubcon, unprotected sex, creampie
hera's kinktober: day 1 of 16. taglist form here.
soft whimpers fell from your lips as you ground down on your sleeping boyfriend’s hips, fingers reaching into your panties as you closed your eyes, desperate to feel something, anything.
you couldn’t take it anymore, these weeks, months of hopeless waiting for a day where izuku would pay attention to you. sure, he was a great boyfriend. bought you pretty gifts, spoiled you when he could, treated you the best that a pro-hero could. but too frequent were the nights when you laid in bed awake, alone, your neglected cunt aching to feel the swell of his cock once more.
was that so much to ask?
you awoke from a wet dream earlier the night, gasping as you came to consciousness right before the faceless person in your dream was about to fuck you.
gritting your teeth, you cursed your mind for making you suffer even in your helpless wet dreams.
and you were supposed to consider yourself lucky, for tonight was one of the rare nights izuku was even in your bed, coming home slightly earlier than usual, just in time to shower and pass out before you decided to turn in to bed.
for a couple of seconds after waking from your dream, you stared at the peaceful, unknowing look on your boyfriend’s face, decorated with freckles and scars that marked him as the top keeper of safety in japan.
to hell with japan, you thought.
your body moved before your mind could keep up, pressing the soft flesh of your ass into his hips, your fingers teasing yourself briefly before dipping below the cloth of your panties to rub at your long neglected cunt.
izuku twitched and you stiffened, waiting to see if he woke up. but he hadn’t—simply stretching in his sleep, reaching his arms around your body.
his embrace was as secure as always, the muscles of his forearm heavy against your stomach and slightly restricting your movement.
deciding to risk it, you lifted his arm gently so that it bent, placing two of his fingers in your mouth and sucking on them lightly. the few times the two of you did fuck, he’d always seem to come undone at the sight of his scarred fingers in your mouth.
you continued, rubbing soft circles into your sensitive clit, fighting back a moan as heat started to build and ripple throughout your core. you closed your eyes, focusing, and you’d nearly hit your high when a soft whimper fell into your ear.
his cock had started to stir, stiffening slowly against your ass, and his breathing started to quicken, his eyebrows furrowed as he began to dream of fucking you.
whether he’d actually woken up or not, you couldn’t tell, but you didn’t let his ministrations stop you, continuing to chase your high, grinding back onto his now fully hardened cock.
his hips bucked sloppily into yours while his arms tightened around you.
“mmnh—y/n,” he murmured sleepily, and that was enough to tip you over the edge.
you came suddenly and quickly, arching your back into his embrace as you struggled to stifle your moans, hips spasming back into his as he continued to messily fuck up into you.
you needed more, quickly ridding yourself and izuku of your bottoms, positioning your body on top of his as he continued to sleep, unknowing.
his cock throbbed against his stomach, the tip angry and red, leaking with a single drop of salty precum that you spread across the head with your fingers.
lining your pussy up with his cock, you dragged yourself across his length, shuddering as his tip pushed at your clit. you were overcome with a sudden need to be full with him, to feel him stuff you so entirely full to the point you couldn’t breathe, and without another thought you lifted your hips up and down onto his cock.
izuku let out a strained sigh in his sleep as he twitched, unconscious and enjoying his innocent little wet dream. you lifted your hand to your mouth, biting down on the flesh in order to stifle your mewls as your walls fluttered about him, adjusting to his size, and with your other hand, you massaged your tits, rolling your nipple in between your fingers.
he’d slid in so easily, so fucking easily—that’s how wet you were, to the point where you briefly worried that the loud squelching of your pussy as you squeezed his cock would wake him up.
nonetheless, you lifted your hips once more and began to bounce on his cock, lolling your head back in complete and utter ecstasy.
izuku’s hips bucked up and into you on their own, his hands blindly reaching to grab you. you took hold of his wrists, placing his palms on your tits, smiling when they instinctively squeezed and massaged you.
you let yourself go, fully riding the waves of pleasure as you let your fingers travel downwards to your clit, your body jolting with each messy shape you rubbed into that tight little bundle of nerves.
“y-y/n!?” izuku’s shaky voice brought you back down to reality, and your head snapped forward to look into his widened emerald eyes.
“good morning, my love,” you smiled devilishly, bending forward to give him a kiss on his forehead.
“what—mmnh—are you doing?” he barely managed to ask, his forehead wrinkling in both sleepy stupor and arousal.
“taking the attention i deserve,” you replied easily, throwing your head back once more. you were too far in to care, too close to an orgasm that you were so long deprived of. “why, i can’t?”
his body responded to you in spite of whatever he was thinking, his scarred hands tracing the lines of your body as he gazed stupidly up at you, ears filled only with the squelch of your pussy clamping down on his impossibly hard cock.
“god, ‘zuku, so big, you’re so big,” you gushed, your tits bouncing each time your hips met his. “fill me up so good, why don’t you fill me up more, need it—”
something snapped inside him and his demeanor changed, his grip on your hips becoming bruising as his knuckles whitened.
“fucking take it then,” he hissed lowly, taking your hips and forcing them down on his, pushing the breath out of you. “c’mon, take it—like a good girl, like the little slut that you are.”
the knot in your stomach continued to tighten until you felt as though it would burst at any second, your body suddenly weakening and nearly falling forward onto his body.
he caught you easily, holding you tight to his chest as he planted his feet into the mattress and thrusted upwards into you, obsessed with the short, jagged mewls you breathed into his ear.
“please, ‘zuku, fuck—feels s’good, too go-od,” you choked out, mouth hung open as your body trembled with the pressure of your impending orgasm.
“wanna cum? then fucking cum,” he demanded, dragging his cock out all the way before forcing it back into you, and he held you still and tight as you shook in his arms, your body giving out entirely as you came.
“good girl,” he cooed, his pace unwavering as he continued to slam into you, the fluttering of your walls around his cock pushing him further and further over the edge.
“nngh—love bein’ your good girl,” you slurred dreamily, your body soft and limp atop his.
your fucked out little voice did it for him, and he came with a grunt, painting your walls white with his hot cum. his cock twitched inside you as it softened, the last few sticky pumps of his seed spilling out of your abused hole and onto the bed.
“good night, ‘zuku,” you said sleepily, your body now overcome with an overwhelming drowsiness.
“good night?” he scoffed, rubbing soothing circles into your back. “who said i’m done with you, love?”
kinktober masterlist | general masterlist
tagging: @yvonnesky @itsgoldnsage @tsookieloopie @semisgroupie @levylovegood
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bad hair day ✿
pairing: bakugo katsuki x reader
a/n: just a short drabble for our blasty boi,,,feel free to send requests, ya girl needs some more inspo qq
"work with me please." you grunt, pulling the hairbrush through your hair for what felt like the hundredth time.
you had been sitting in front of the mirror for the past thirty minutes trying to do your hair. the frustration was building up, and you were about ready to explode. you had lost count of how many times you had tied and untied your ponytail. no matter what you did, no matter how much you brushed the bumps out, your hair still didn't look right.
a knock sounds from your door, but you were too busy with your hair to get up and open it.
"just come in, the door's unlocked." you yell
"what's taking you so long? class starts in ten minutes." bakugo chides as he opens your door, leaning against the door frame.
"i just can't get my stupid hair to cooperate." you sigh, falling back into your desk chair dramatically
bakugo huffs, "here, let me do it, before you get both of us in trouble."
dropping his backpack, he sits on your bed, motioning for you to sit on the floor in front of him. sitting down, you hand him your hair tie.
"what other girls have you done this for, katsu?" you smirk
"shut up, idiot. you know you're the only one i've ever liked." he quickly responds, a blush forming on his face.
you feel him messily gather your hair, attempting to smooth it back with his hands, then fumbling with the hair tie to secure it.
"there." he says, pulling the hair tight and patting your head.
you get up and walk back to your mirror, bursting out into laughter once you get a glimpse of yourself.
"what??" he growls
"so this definitely is your first time doing a girl's hair." you tease, pulling some pieces out at the front to frame your face
"what are you doing??? you're messing it up!"
"i'm just pulling some hair out to make it look better.."
"but that defeats the purpose." he growls, "your hair is still in your face??"
"you literally made me look like a founding father, there's no way i'm going out like that."
he rolls his eyes, grabbing your backpack for you and slinging it over his shoulder, "well let's go then, hamilton. we're gonna be late."
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RANDOM BOYFRIEND THINGS [HCS]
“really random things that’d happen because he’s your boyfriend.”
fandom/s: 僕のヘロアカデミア // boku no hero academia [bnha]
includes: s. todoroki, i. midoriya, k. bakugō, h. shinsō
your name is shortened to y/n, gender neutral!
side note: i’ve been gone ik, but im alive 🌞🤸♀️
TODOROKI SHŌTO ||
doesn’t need sweaters most of the time, but because he’s heard of other people talking about their lovers wearing their hoodies, he splurges, and buys a bunch of them and managed to occupy 80% of his closet
you saw all of those new hoodies, and thought free real estate 🌞⛹️♂️ shōto has zero regrets.
can make amazing soba, but everything else is a hit or miss.
with that being said, he offered you some kaarage he made for the first time, and it was SUPER bad, even burned. 😟
so whenever he fails at cooking, he makes you spit it out on his HAND 😟 which has a tissue on it.
anyways, you still went 😷🤨 like ‘wtf sho?? why do you allow this’ and he replies with “i don’t want your tastebuds to be ruined.”
?? AS IF THEY WEREN’T ALREADY?
offers to do your hair after detangling/brushing or sorting them (regardless of length) and messed up the other half of your head (how fitting)
literally EVERYONE knew who did your hair, and they clowned shōto for it. he thinks he did a good job though, and you’ll agree with him.
can and will stalk take a few looks at your social media. you only know he’s updated because he knows information that’s only been shared on your social media
like.. you’ll be talking about taking pictures at a boba shop, and shōto will say “oh, the one where you’re holding a cup of boba with two fingers?” and you’ll be like 😃✋ “you know that??”
shōto unintentionally, but frequently initiates thumb wrestles. i said it. he will not play fight with you since he doesn’t underestimate his capability, but thumb wrestles 😎 am i right?
waits for you, always. i think he always did, even when you guys were in the ‘close friends’ stage. will wait for you after school, after extra curriculars/classes, when your shoelaces are untied.
speaking of that, shōto is your official ‘shoe lace tier’ your shoelace is untied? he’s one step ahead of you, because he’s already tying them.
(for megumi fushiguro lovers) the two of you were watching jujutsu kaisen, and he saw that you really liked megumi’s character
so the next day, he showed up with sea urchin hair like it was just another day in his life 💀
the two of you touch foreheads a lot. it’s a recharge for him, and he did it a lot when he was too shy to kiss you (pre- first kiss)
|| MIDORIYA IZUKU
eats all of your leftovers. this boy’s appetite’s huge, so if you’re someone that gets full easily (lol me)
then izuku will finish your leftovers with no hesitation.
feeds you snacks slowly and slowly throughout the day. since he knows that eating faster will probably make you full AND have an upset stomach.
knows exactly what you want whenever you guys order food online, or get something to eat at a restaurant. he just knows at this point. oh, and he’ll be doing the ordering for you, it’s super cute 🥰
(this headcanon is dedicated to mah bestie, @shotorozu) but if you have fake nails and have TROUBLE with opening stuff, he’ll do it for you
he’ll also be the type to get his pinky done, when you’re getting your nails done. because y’know, matchy 😎 the nail artists all coo about how cute that is, but if only they knew how fast they’d get destroyed in fights 💀
peels fruit for you, but it’s never smooth, and it’s probably rough on the edges, so you end up smoothing it out. then it becomes normal for the both of you. izuku peels off 95% of the skin, and you just smooth it out to make it look pretty.
izuku with natural hair, yes. you saw him hold a straightener near his precious curls, and you SCOLDED him for it. he felt super guilty, so to compensate, izuku handed you all of the work.
but that’s pretty much it. you only take care of his hair, making sure he doesn’t fry it. and he does everything else.
cannot cook, even if it was the end of the world. so whenever he tries, he’d never let you get a bite. poison control is on speed dial, if you do manage to eat some. zuku’s just watching out for you 😔
holds all your shopping bags, despite protest. does not matter if you don’t want him to, or if you make him. did you forget who this man is?
man dresses like a sock puppet, so if you wanna help him, then you are more than welcome. boyfriend! izuku knows you won’t set him up. so please don’t
sometimes gets weird dreams because of OFA, so he’ll shamelessly sneak into your bed and cuddle you
the amount of times you have rolled over, and he’s been there like 🙋♂️ is astonishing.
(for cheese haters) aoyama tried feeding you cheeze, and when he wasn’t looking, izuku just swooped right in and CHOMPED on it, saving you.
crying in front of him basically signs you up for a couple’s crying session. sincerely, he’s trying to improve his crying habit, but seeing you cry is a tearjerker.
gets into astrology, finds out his sign just in case you ask. . . finds out his entire chart too, and now he cannot be stopped. he’s the astrology junkie now.
BAKUGŌ KATSUKI ||
he usually likes it when he walks in front of people. but, for you, you have to walk in front of him, or just don’t walk at all 😾👺
opens doors for you just because he wants to, but katsuki will never admit that, and will always say “you’ll pull on a push door, and embarrass me. i’m opening the doors.”
you’re his food tester, and unlike the rest, his food ALWAYS tastes good. he’ll never do you wrong.
his reasoning for this is “i trust your judgement. now eat, or else” but it’s also because he loves seeing your reaction 💀 ego boost? ego boost.
(also dedicated to my bestie, @shotorozu) but stares at your nails, if/when you get them done. says they look like ‘a pain in the ass’
but when you ask him if you should take them off, he gets mad 👹 like WHAT make up your mind 🙄
when katsuki sees that you’re cold, he throws his sweater on you. also warmed it up with his quirk, so it’s extra toasty.
when he sees that you’re a little too warm, he drags you to someplace private, yanks your shirt off and replaces it with his tank top.
also waits for you when you’re tying your shoelaces. says he won’t, but when you turn around he’s right behind you, waiting.
doesn’t look like the type, but he will watch documentaries with you. the ones with some tragedy in them, of course.
katsuki was like “why do you wanna watch this shit? a whale documentary, really?” *ends up watching blackfish three times, and complains about sea world each and every time.*
loves holding your hand but man’s hands are sweaty. so he makes the both of you start off slowly. despite you saying he won’t blow your hand off, he’s extra cautious.
the two of you link pinkies, then immediately, pinkies and ring fingers. then three fingers, and finally, real hand holding.
he likes taking care of you, but you end up babying him too. brush his hair, kiss his forehead, whisper kind affirmations. he complains a lot, hating how he’s super vulnerable, but he knows how much he wants, and needs it.
|| SHINSŌ HITOSHI
the two of you played fight once, and he ended up pushing you off the couch HARD.
hitoshi underestimated his own strength, and he felt super bad about it. you ended up comforting him, after he soothed your pain.
he was a super vague teacher when it came to teaching you how to ride a bike (if you don’t know how to) hitoshi was the type of teacher that would teach like “step one, get on bike. step two, lift feet. step three, bike.”
with that being said, he’s basically glued to your side when you’re sitting on his bike. lets his hand go just to tease you, but he’d never actually let you fall down.
looks really lost when you guys go shopping. isn’t really flashy when it comes to his sense of style, so hitoshi will let you up his fashion game.
also ran into a bunch of clothing racks because he was too busy admiring you trying on more clothes.
allowed you to do his eyeliner once, and made the grave mistake of rubbing his eyes 😶 went to class looking like a horror movie villain, and scared kaminari 💀
on the weekends, the two of you constantly alternate between no sleep, or lots of sleep. usually depends if hitoshi wants to copy you, or if you want to copy him.
burrito blankets with shinsō hitoshi are FREQUENT. he daf that it’s compacted or hot, he will take this time to be even more closer with you.
learns how to do your hair (if you allow him, doesn’t matter the length) he’s kinda boss at it
waves his hand across your face whenever he wears rings, because he just KNOWS how much you like them.
the only time he ever used his quirk on you, is when you were in desperate need of sleep. it’s a touchy topic, but the peaceful look on your face was worth it.
enjoys holding hands with you, but if you REALLY wanna make this man’s cheeks burn red, then while holding hands, shove your hand in his pocket.
© zukuist 2021, bnha || mha belongs to horikoshi kohei. do not steal, reupload ❕
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STOP BECAUSE THAT'S SO TRUE!!
Shiggy was introduced to sex through hentai and tentacle porn. He thinks that 10 inches is average and fucking a womb is a daily occurrence. That's why he hesitates to have sex with you at first because he's genuinely scared you'll think his dick is tiny and leave him for it (poor baby needs praise- he's ridiculously insecure).
But then you're sucking him off and… gagging? And then begging and begging to have him inside of you. And then you whimper as he presses against your entrance, muttering how big it is but how you need to take it all, all of it. Tomura is overwhelmed, to say the least. He's never seen you so desperate and you try to explain, you really do, but you're quite literally cockdrunk.
So, when he finally pushes his entire fat cock inside of you and watches as your eyes roll back and you cling to him like he's your lifeline- Tomura has never been so confused in his life. Even as you mumble "so good, feels- feels so fucking good" he finds it hard to believe you. But Tomura is too caught up in the feeling of your gummy walls around him to even think straight.
It'll take some time for him to come around, but in the meantime you should confiscate those early-2000s DVD's he has hidden in his bedroom 😌🤚🏼.
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how about this tamaki,kirishima,bakugo,tetsutesu,sero accidentally land into y/n chest they didn't know that they were big and also y/n is thier crush uwu
Falling into their crush’s chest. || Tamaki, Kirishima, Bakugo, Tetsutetsu, and Sero.
Summary: They fall face First into their crush’s chest.
Warnings: Basically motorboating.
Notes: Happy that I finally get to give Tamaki some love!
Tamaki would never would have imagined he would end up in this situation at all. Hell, he didn’t even want to think he would end up like this with his crush.
Look, he didn’t even realize you were behind him at all when it happened.
Him, Nejire, and Mirio were just roaming the halls, he was just following them around since he had no place to go. The three had run into some people from other classes.
Without Nejire and Mirio by his side, he felt his anxiety begining to build up inside his chest and spread over his body. A rather familiar feeling.
He quickly turned away to shove his face into someone’s chest.
Now, this was already bad enough. But as he slowly looked up. He realized that it was your chest he had fallen into.
First thought: why is your chest so soft?
Second: He’s going to pass out.
And that’s exactly what he did.
Nejire and Mirio finally turned over to find Tamaki passed out in your arms.
Kirishima on the other hand was caught up in the moment. He really didn’t mean to do such things. It was all in excitement.
Everyone in class 1-A was watching this game, he couldn’t quite remember what game it was. But most of everyone was invested, even Bakugo.
He had no clue who to cheer for, since he didn’t really know the teams all that well, but he was damn well sure gonna cheer for everyone!
So when one of the teams was close to wining, he was on the edge of his seat along with his friends.
And when they scored and won the game for everyone he let out the loudest cheer he had ever given.
In the excitement of everyone cheering he leaned down and picked up the first person next to him.
Which happened to be you, his long time crush.
So when he had picked you up for a hug, he had lifted you up a little higher than intended and shoved his face into your chest on accident.
He realized his mistake the second his cheek hit your soft chest. And that was the fastest he ever pulled away from someone.
He felt so bad, he didn’t talk to you for the next three days. Thinking you didn’t want to see him for what he did.
Everyone gets tired eventually. And even if Bakugo doesn’t want to admit it out loud. He was dead ass tired.
After a long day of training, and after being dragged around by his group. He wanted to just head to his room and pass out.
Checking the time it was past his normal time he went to bed, so his body was begging to at least get a wink of rest.
So his next best bet was to just take a quick shut eye in the common room.
Finding you there didn’t deture him any less, collasping onto the couch and letting out a few sighs as his eyes flutter shut while you did your thing next to him.
Unknowingly, his body started leaning closer to your body for its small amount of warmth.
You noticed this, but didn’t dare bother him since he was finally drifting off to sleep.
Eventually, his head found it’s way on your chest. Already passed out at this point, you didn’t bother him. Just running your fingers through his hair.
He didn’t find out hiss head was on your chest until the next morning when Kaminari showed him a pictire of the whole ordeal.
With his best face to hide his embarssment, now he had figurred out why his pillow was so soft that night.
Now, Tetsutetsu is a special case here. He hadn’t seen you in a few weeks, and being the big crushing himbo he was. Had thought the worst when you went out with Monoma on that trip.
Had Monoma confessed to you, and taken you away from him forever? Had Monoma told you about his huge crush since only him and Kendo knew?
Well the whole class knew, but he didnt know that.
The wait was killing him every hour you were away. And so, when you finally arrived back from the trip with Monoma. He was like a puppy greeting their owner.
The second the door opened and Kamakiri had greeted you two, Tetsutetsu dropped his gaming controller and bolted to the door.
The second his eyes were locked onto you, he dashed over and picked you up. Hugging you close to his body and buried his face into your chest.
“I missed you so much! Don’t ever go that long with Monoma again ya hear!?”
He looked up from your chest to find your face burning red. And that’s when he realized what he had just done.
Needless to say, as quick as he was to greet you. He was even quicker rushing away. Face burning bright red.
Embarrassment is one thing. But the way you actually looked like you enjoyed it is what makes his head spin.
During the camp trip is when it happened. Everything was in disarry, and you were just next to him one momment ago. And then you just vanish. It scared him.
He was searching all over for you, heart racing, and chest thumping as he ran closer to the screams in the forest.
And low and behold, there you were. Beaten and bruised, and it looked like you were burned as well.
Sero used his tape to his advantage and grabbed you, right as you passed out into his arms. That’s what sent him into a frenzy.
He never ran that fast in his life. Toward the building so he could get you some medical help, he just needed to make sure you were safe.
It took hours until you woke up, and Sero was right there beside you. Waiting for you like a loyal dog to its owner.
When you finally woke up, and were wondering where you were. Sero’s arms wrapped around you and held you close.
“I-I thought I lost you…” Sero buried his face into your chest. Nuzzling closer to you. “Don’t scare me like that again okay?”
“That tickles Sero.” You began to laugh, causing his ears to flush as he stared up at you. A grin making its way on his face.
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