Tumgik
#bnha x male reader
beautifulsenpai · 1 day
Note
imagining an au where the bakusquad turned to villains, captured their classmate after he became a hero and now keeps him as a pet in their lair. the amount of times they watch each other play with you..
tw/cw. messed up shit, stomach bulge, double penetration (sorry if this isn’t the stuff you normally thought of)
i believe they would create their villain organization when they got older, and their first order of business would capture their beloved hero that they were deeply in love with in their school years, and now it’s their time to make you theirs once and for all! after capturing you, you bet they would put a fucking collar around your neck like a dog.
how sick, they consider you as their pathetic pet. the days spent with them would be hell. they would play with you, and it’s not like what you think. each of them would take turns fucking you, or two dicks would be inside of you, creating a bulge while one of their cocks would be inside of your mouth.
they would ignore your screams, and cries of protest while they fill you up with their cum. you never thought that your used-to-be friends could be so horrible. after they had their time with you, they would leave you as a mess. they would later on clean you up but what was the use if they would ruin you the next day..
Tumblr media
i might write this though, this is such a creative idea
149 notes · View notes
dabisbratz · 5 months
Text
𝒮𝒲𝐸𝐸𝒯 𝒯𝒪𝒪𝒯𝐻 — shouta aizawa x male reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media
w.c: 12.4k
warning: dbf!shouta, age gap, (sho in his early 40s, reader is 23), bottom!reader, daddy kink, breeding kink, dirty talk, feminization, mentions of gettin ‘knocked up’ regardless of anatomy, sneaking around, creampie, unprotected sex ( wear condoms ! ), praise/degradation, brat!reader, jealousy, mutual teasing, reader has an oral fixation, improper use of lollipops, mentions of exhibitionism, blowjobs, cumming untouched/hands free orgasm, ‘ taboo ’
sonny says..: not proof read, msorry !! did lotsa jumpin around while writin this. . . n five months later !! she’s all done !! ໒꒰ྀི⸝⸝T ˘ T⸝⸝꒱ྀི১ ♡ m’a lil rusty, forgive me !!
Tumblr media
You’re back home for the summer.
Well— not entirely. You’re back at your family’s summer house for the season. Gifted from your grandparents, it teeters at the beginning of a beach, crystal sands and clear, blue waters that stretch out into the horizon. You’ve been looking forward to it since you’d graduated, even if it did come with a set of overbearing parents and a sinful amount of sunscreen.
The air is hot and thick, sticking uncomfortably to your skin through the windshield as you watch an everlasting stretch of greenery and trees pass you by. The road has stretched on for miles, every upcoming exit and street sign blending into one as each hour passes by. You’ve got the company of staticky radio stations and news outlets, spewing something nonsensical about sports, politics, car insurance. . . But it’s the trip you enjoy more than the destination. Traffic and all, you prefer it over the muggy air and parental scolding. Though, the beach is nice. . .
“You’re sure you’re taking the right route?” It’s your mother speaking, her voice crackling through the speakers of your car. You’re sure she’d smack you upside the head for the aggressive roll of your eyes in her. . . general direction, but she’s not exactly within eye-contact distance. Not for another five minutes, anyway.
“I’ve been doing this for years,” You have— it’s true. Though you’re only twenty-two, you’d driven this distance since you’d left for college. There’s a sound akin to the sucking of teeth through the radio, and you have half the mind to turn around and restart your road-trip all over again.
“Why’s there so much attitude in your voice?” Her cheerful, smiley voice suddenly sounds much more shrill, to your chagrin. You thrum your fingers along the leather of the steering wheel, biting back a long, drawn out groan.
“There isn’t any,” Gravel crackles under the weight of your rubber-tire car, snapping and popping into the air as it makes a smooth halt into the driveway. Shifting gears to park, the radio switches off with the twist of your keys. And, perhaps with more force than necessary, you’re slamming the door to your car and face to face with your mother. Her phone is still in hand, eyebrows pinched at the thought of her very own son hanging up on her. “. . . attitude, Ma.”
She hugs you with a squeal, ushering you up the stairs to your childhood ‘home.’ It’s almost exactly like you’d left it— save for a few recent porch decorations and repainted walls. You hope the years have been kind to it, with the irregular weather and constant pipe problems. Floorboards creak under your weight, welcoming you home after a few long years of studies. There’s an everlasting stream of bubbly speech behind you, your mom speaking, but there’s already so much to take in.
The air is fresh and salty, hints of beachy winds flowing upstream through the doorway. It smells like home, and looks like it too, as you situate your small duffel bag by the stairs that lead to the bedrooms. Your room. You hadn’t packed much— there was still a dresser overflowing with old clothes in your bedroom, after all. And now that you think about it, you should probably change into something more fitting for the weather.
“I know you just got here,” The sound of ice swirling against glass catches your attention, and you turn to face your mother. “But could you bring these out to your father?” She’s holding a tray of decorative glasses— or at least, you’d always thought they were— full of oblong ice and freshly squeezed lemonade. The glasses are stocky enough to adorn lollipops— one each, which are probably sickeningly sour. Topped with tiny, colorful umbrellas and intricate swirling straws. It’s almost like she’s trying to impress someone, with the way she’s put so much effort into the drink’s presentation.
Your lips curl to form a playful ‘no’, a boyish smile pulling at your cheeks when she huffs— as if she already knows what you’re about to do. So you shake your head instead, stealing the tray with one hand, “Let me change first.”
In hindsight, wearing clothes about. . four years too small wasn’t a great idea. The shorts that once fit you perfectly— before your growth spurt— are now much too short, like they’ve been tossed around in the laundry one too many times. You feel almost naked, moving the pink hem down with the shake of your legs.
Your mother insists they look just fine, a dramatic downturn to her lips as she rambles on and on about how fast her boy has grown up. Still, as you walk through the sliding glass doors parallel to the open patio, the sunlight bathing your legs does nothing but make you feel stuck under a rapidly growing spotlight.
It all clicks as you walk outside— the detailed drinks, the smell of barbecue and fresh coal. There is someone she’s trying to impress, someone other than your father. Maybe both of them. On a good day.
Wiping the bead of sweat from your brow, your eyes squint at the man in front of you. Around your dad’s age— maybe slightly younger, he stands at a whopping six foot something. There’s age in his face, and worry between his brows as if he’d spent most of his youth grimacing. His hair is long and black like charcoal, save for a few streaks of gray and a salt and pepper ensemble of stubble littering his chin and jaw. Two scars— forming a cross of sorts, one beneath his right eye, horizontal and thin. But the other is much longer, starting below his brow and ending at his cheekbone. It draws your eyes to a milky gray iris— heavily contrasting against the natural black-brown of his left one. It’s pretty, cloudy and almost pearlescent.
His silhouette— tall and thick, with broad shoulders that travel on and on as he crosses thick biceps over his thick chest. He’s standing in the way of the sun, and yet, it peeks through his long hair in small, short leaks. And, surprisingly, his waist is small in his black tank top. If you feel hot he must be scorching, draped in black— down to the beaded bracelet adorning his wrist. His hands— they’re big, maybe enough to cover the entirety of your face, curled into loose fists at his biceps.
And— right, you’re here to help, not gawk. But you can’t help it, shifting your weight from one leg to another as his intimidating gaze slowly sweeps you over. He’s like sex on legs, and if you can squint enough to get the sun out your eyes, you swear you can see the imprint of his cock through his black shorts.
“Uh,” You blink dumbly after introducing yourself, and suddenly the tray you’re holding is weightless. “Ma made these. I’m supposed to help. . . or something. . .”
“Or something.” The man echoes, but it’s quiet and you barely catch it. His voice is deep, way deeper than your own, rumbling in your ears and smooth like butter. Almost husky, with a dark edge to it as flames roar in his face. But it makes your father laugh, hearty and jubilant as he bounces over to where you stand. He gives you a small pat on the back as a greeting, ushering out a small, “son.”
The heat emitting off the grill is enough to make a grown man cry, but neither of you wince when you walk by it. Cold glasses of lemonade are handed out, fingers imprinted on cold condensation painting the surfaces of each glass as they’re passed around— one for you, one for your dad, another for him. You watch rivulets of water drip from his fingertips, down his wrist, past the collection of veins adorning his forearm.
“Mr. Aizawa,” There’s a beat of silence, but it’s quickly filled once you’ve been introduced. “World’s cruelest teacher.”
“Shouta Aizawa.” Is all he says, a correction of sorts, voice grumbly as his fingertips brush against your knuckles. Your eyes flicker down to where he’d touched you, his skin warm and inviting despite the roughness of his palms. You see now, that he’s accompanying your father, occasionally taking over when he walks back into the house every. . . five minutes or so.
“An old friend of mine, we go way back.” Your parents have an odd habit of rambling, it seems, because you and the handsome stranger make exasperated eye contact as your dad begins to reminisce on old memories. “You met him a few times— remember? He’ll be staying with us, so be respectful, you hear me?” His gaze seems to dip for a moment, down your lips and straight to the extra exposed skin of your thighs, then settle back to the ocean before you can comment.
But those five minutes must start now, because after a firm squeeze to your shoulder your father heads inside, leaving you alone with his. . . friend. He’s awfully quiet, busying himself as the patio door slides shut— occasionally sighing as he wipes away the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand. It’s obvious you’re staring, maybe a bit too hard, but he’s the best scene around, really. Even with the beach right behind him.
And maybe it’s wrong to think this way— but he’s hot. Old enough to be your dad and then some, sure, but it doesn’t make him any less attractive. He almost makes you nervous, the slow blink of his eyes as he pays you no mind.
“So you’re staying with us, huh?” You eye the juicy meat he’s been flipping for the last five minutes, golden brown and sizzling in the heat. It’s rather thick, soon to be lazily flattened by the tongs he's holding and— you can’t help but wonder. . . Is he good with his hands?
“Don’t make a habit of asking strange old men questions like that.” It’s not entirely clear if he’s serious or not, but he’s certainly assertive. Like a firm, guiding hand placed at the nape of your neck. Your eyebrows pinch in confusion, but before you can ask what he means, it clicks. You’d said it out loud, let it float into the air like an everyday, casual question. But Aizawa doesn’t seem exactly bothered, more passive (if anything), as he takes a swig of the fruity, sour concoction.
“You’re not strange.” Is what you conclude, slamming the tray down hard enough to rattle its contents, and the man notes your lack of regard. Even with a slight spill you don’t bother to clean, you’re already turning to walk off the patio and dig your toes into the hot sand before it can be mentioned— but not without plucking a lemon coated lollipop free from its icy enclosure of glass. There’s an arrangement of seashells hidden beneath the coarse mounds of the glimmering seaside. Different sizes and colors, different textures and shapes. Where some would scrape the soles of your feet, others would glide across them. But as a kid you’d liked the search for tiny crabs much more than the search for shells. Though you’re much older now, you’re not afraid to say you miss it.
“But I’m old?” Aizawa says, not too far behind you from where he stands. There’s a light glint of dry humor in his voice that sends butterflies down your throat and straight into your stomach.
“Yeah. Old enough.” Your small laughter is sweet, dancing in the air in a way that has Shouta nearly pressing his palm flat into the skillet— just to check if his heart is still beating. What do you mean by that, anyway?
There’s a divot where the tightness of your shorts dip into your skin, pressing against the plush skin of your ass whenever you bend over. Even as you’re upright, Shouta can’t stand to look for too long— you’re a real, proper, honest and genuine distraction. Yet here he is, watching you move around on your hands and knees, ass taut and round— shorts tight enough to show off the cute bulge of your balls from behind. And now that he’s really looking, it’s obvious you’re not wearing anything underneath.
He shakes his head, grunting to himself as he peels processed cheese free from its plastic packaging. You just met, that’s not right, you’re simply just minding your own.
“Ugh!” You share a groan, and for completely different reasons. Aizawa can’t help but watch you scramble in the sand, presumably after whatever sea-creature that had the pleasure to pinch you right on the finger. But you seem happy once it’s retrieved, stuck in the seclusion of its tiny shell as you hold it in your palm. From what he can see, you’re not much of a brat at all. Maybe your parents are just too hard on you. He’s always known them to be dramatics.
Still, he has half the mind to drag you over by your ankle, or maybe to press your handsome face into the sand while he fucks you from behind. Ever since you’d brought out that damned lemonade— tugging on the hem of the fabric as if you’d suddenly grown conscious of just how short they were— he’d been hard. And now he has to listen to you grunt and groan over the smallest of injuries. . . His best friend’s son, his presumed pride and joy.
He’s fucked.
From where he stands, slightly elevated, he can see the bulge of the sweet protruding from your cheeks, stuck afore your teeth. Cute, as it swishes from side to side, stuck in your mouth as your occupied fingers caress the diaphanous shell in the palm of your hand. Your lips move, puckered, around the sucker, curled and glossy with molten sugar— it’s hard to make out exactly what words your mouth forms, yet Shouta doesn’t think he’d be able to listen anyway.
Tumblr media
Turns out the creature was a hermit crab.
Shouta learns this at dinner, the day’s hard work shared on plastic platters and glass
bottles in the middle of the beach. There’s a roaring flame between the four of you, it casts golden embers along your skin every so often, crackling into the air. Cicadas chirp with the night’s welcome, loud and joyful in retaliation to the silent, serene fireflies and settling ocean.
You’re all sipping on beers, some more than others, but it’s enough to loosen everyone up. Even Shouta, whose eyes look lidded with sleep the more he drinks. He’s not incoherent, he never is. If anything he’s observant. For one, you have an awful habit of holding onto this evening’s lollipop, it seems, as you have it situated between your fingers like a cigarette. Sometimes your grip around it tightens, like when your mother wraps her hand around his bicep, squeezing the flesh in small, sporadic rounds. And though neither of you want to say it, let alone think it— you’re jealous. That’s the second thing.
Even with Shouta’s knee brushing against your own, you can’t help it. He’s so warm, muscly legs pressed against your own in a manner that’s almost electrifying. You want it all to yourself, to suffocate in his heat and capable hands.
You zone out of the conversation, blinking at the fire with reserved eyes until a thick screwer pokes at the flesh of your shoulder, leaving behind a tiny dimple. Jet black hair invades your vision for a moment, smelling of faint seasalt and warm cologne, until you turn, “What?”
“You want chocolate on your marshmallow, right?” Your mother asks for him, squeezing a transparent bag of thick, soft marshmallows. It’s tossed to you in a flash, to which you catch, but not before stealing a glance at the man beside you. His jaw sets, poking out from the mass of stubble. Like she’d stolen a precious moment away.
“Right,” You mumble, stabbing the skewer through the excessive amount of sugar. The stick hovers above the fire, the sweet melting to a crisp, flaky brown. Sticky and gooey, it slowly begins to lose its form. Through all the conversation you can’t help but glance at the older man to your left, taking in the glow of yellow and orange caressing his tan skin. His silhouette is bold and broad, legs spread wide as he sits on a thick log. What was once brown turns a deep, dark charcoal. “Oh, shit! Fuck. I meant shoot, sorry.”
You’re not supposed to swear in front of your parents— Aizawa’s paternal intuition picks that up. But shoving the marshmallow into your mouth, even as it has yet to cool down, he doesn’t quite get. Either way, your expression. . . it’s sickeningly cute. It’s cute to watch you fumble. With lips pursed into a tight line, cheeks bitten and eyebrows pinched with apology despite how obviously uncomfortable you are with the piping, burnt sugar spreading along your tongue.
His heart could almost burst.
“You’re fine, kid.” Shouta’s voice is a gentle whisper, airy like the waves brushing against the shore. With his eyes caught on the sticky white lingering on your cheek, he's desperately aware you’re not a kid. The way you move and speak, the way you carry yourself. The way you suck on lollipops like they’re something else. He’s never been one for dirty jokes or subtle innuendos but. . . yeah, this is doing something to him. His fingers twitch with want, the desire to wipe it away and rub his thumb along your lips. He should really get it together.
And maybe the fact that he’s more worried about your parents being in the way than the fact that they’re your parents proves that.
But they’re pretty preoccupied, lost in conversation neither of you are exactly interested in. Whirling his own marshmallow, chocolate melts down its fluffy outside. It’s steaming, hot and fluffy after twirling around the fire. Looking at it now, it looks comically small in his large hands, much bigger than your own. His lips part, cool air leaving the ‘o’ shaped mold of his mouth as he blows on it with a low, “Here.”
There they go again, mouth open as your pink tongue covers your row of bottom teeth, Shouta doesn’t let go of the skewer despite the light squeezes you press along his knuckles. Instead he holds on tighter, lifting and reaching until the desert melts in your mouth and sticks to your lips. Messy on purpose, your heart plummets into your tummy when dark eyes watch marshmallow fluff pull away from between your teeth. Hungry, starving.
“I can do it myself.” You mumble, wondering if the heat prickling your skin is from the brush of his fingers against your own or the wilting fire.
“Can you?” His expression is tired and flat, but his voice tilts with blooming amusement. It’s odd, the way you’re so quick to shut him down. You almost respond more openly when you hear sneaky comments or listen to gossip— ‘that boy just doesn’t know what to stop,’ ‘why’s he such a smartass?’ — spoken about you directly by you.
“Yeah,” There’s a shine in your eye that isn’t just a product of the glowing fire. Mischievous, almost. “I don’t break that easily.”
Tumblr media
Shouta could definitely take your dad in a fight. It’s the first thing that pops into mind as the two of you stand in the dark, dimly lit kitchen. Your parents had gone off to bed almost an hour ago, and with the clock approaching half past midnight, it leaves you two alone. So, yes, he’s considering who would win in a brawl because he can’t stop staring at his best friend’s son and his pretty, kissable lips.
They’re sheen with spit, your pink tongue licking them over as you scrub away yesterday’s dirt from the kitchen counter. It’s a noncommittal motion, your arms wiping suds and heavy contents of water along the granite surface. Yet you seem absolutely dead-set on getting that one stain. The stain that has your ass brushing against his side, bare skin rippling the harder, lazier, you scrub. Not that there’s even a stain to clean.
Yep. He’s fucked.
You suppose he should be focusing on the dishes— not that there’s much of those either— but his attention strays.
It carries him through the motion of leaning over, his body practically draping your own as you bend at the waist. Black hair again, wisps of it, lightly pressed against your back as he leans down, lips by the shell of your ear and an arm trapping you in. His cock is pressed right against the swell of your ass, and he may have to consider slipping it between his waistband.
“I think you got it.”
“Oh, really?” Your hips are moving again, side to side as you scrub shapes into nothing. “Double check for me?”
A low groan sounds behind you, big hands at your thighs that squeeze enough to have the plush skin bruised and tender in the morning. His hand travels, snaking up your thighs to meet the silky skin of your ass. Spread nicely with the way you’re bent over, warmth radiating off each globe as his thick pointer finger loops around the thin layer of pink cotton pressing against your balls.
It’d be so easy, perfect access to slip his thick cock into the warm, tight walls of your hole and pound you against the counter. You could sit on his dick for the whole day, drooling and dumb the more the head kisses your prostate again and again and again. Your Daddy could fuck you on your dad’s favorite sofa, make it squeal and whine under the weight of him filling your fucked-out and used cunt over and over.
Dark pupils blow wide as he pulls the fabric away, watching your hole flutter around nothing. He coos, sweet and deep. Just give him a minute, he’ll give you everything you need. Everything and more, until you’re a braindead fucktoy with glassy eyes and sticky, dripping holes. Until—
You’ve slipped past his arm, twisting as your growling stomach makes itself known. You inhale a quivering breath through your nose, eyes wide and expecting and waiting. His best friend’s son, wriggling and writhing under his palms, handsome face twisting as pearly teeth bite at your stout bottom lip.
He’s almost frustrated with himself, voice flat and distant when you puff out your cheeks. Forget a distraction— you’re a real, honest brat. “You’re still hungry.”
“I’m a growing man, Sho.” It’s almost consequential how your voice cracks, breathy and teetering the edge of a whine as he releases his grip on your body. Light from the fridge illuminates your silhouette in a yellow, halo-adjacent glow, and once again Shouta is staring a little too hard at his best friend’s son as he bends forward at the waist.
Aizawa weighs the juxtaposition between the middle of that sentence for a moment before his breath catches in your throat. Sho. You’d called him by a nickname, ten times sweeter than the candied fruit (grapes, are they?) you’re now sinking your teeth into. You’ve grown alright, and the proof stands hard, throbbing, and pressing against your shorts once you’ve returned to face him. It’s obvious your ploy with the fruit was just something to keep your mind off cumming in your cute, soft shorts— but he’d honestly have preferred to see that.
“I can see that.”
Rough palms press into your jaw— firm, but not aggressive, until fingers close and clasp at your cheeks. A dissolving layer of baby fat at your cheeks spills between his stern fingers, and you blink as the older man turns your face from left to right, then reverse. Seems he’s got a nasty habit of looking you over, breaking you down— bare bones. You still have enough room to chew, teeth grinding on the crystallized sugar with a hard and resounding crunch.
There’s always something in your mouth.
Dark eyes flicker to the lump appearing and disappearing in your throat as you swallow, sweet sugar dotting your lips, “You’re hard.”
“Yeah,” It earns a dark chuckle, though there’s not much light humor in it, “So are you.” His lips curl as he releases his grip, slow and lingering.
“Usually,” your gaze drops to his lips. “When two men,” Then up to his deep, dark eyes as you press against him, chest to chest. His cock twitches against the heat of your body, you can imagine it now— thick and pretty, curved upward with a sticky head and throbbing, heavy veins. “Make eachother. . . hard, they—”
A door slams upstairs, the air going still as your breath catches in your throat. As if that single disturbance has stolen all the oxygen in the world, your body goes rigid and stiff, and the sound of tired steps make their way descending down wooden stairs. The candied grapes are swapped for thick fingers, with light peppers of hair at the knuckles, and you can’t help but suck the seasalt right off.
“Behave.” He takes a single step back, dripping with indubitable authority that makes you feel light and airy. Ready to bend at his will with lazy eyelids and hazy eyes. It’s not a question, not a suggestion— it’s a demand.
“You’re still up,” Your father, shameless as he walks by the two of you with barely any coverings, makes a sleepy gesture in your general direction as he opens the fridge. “Both of you, huh?” He sounds faintly out of breath, and his skin sheen. The mental implications make you cringe, taking a step toward the characteristically nonchalant man who’d just stepped away from you.
Shouta’s eyes narrow.
“Don’t tell me I’m being replaced!” He’s always been a loud man, your father, but it seems tonight his one-too-many beers have finally caught up to him. It’s just a joke, the both of you know it, but you can’t help the prickle of heat poking at your throat. You’re pulled in by the back of your head, your father’s hand pressed against your hair as he holds you in a firm side-hug, “Rather Mr. Aizawa be your old man?”
“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Your smile is wide and tantalizing, heavy and dripping with something that has yet to be named. “Are you a good Daddy, Mr. Aizawa?”
Then, his eye twitches, “When I want to be.”
Your laugh is instantaneous and loud, an awkward thing that stretches into deep silence. There’s a lot of things you’d like Mr. Aizawa to be— rough, gentle, sweet, and mean. But your dad? It’s laughable, and couldn’t be farther from the truth. And sure, maybe the title you'd like to use on him sounds similar, but they’re most definitely not the same. If only he knew.
“I’m sure you’re the best,” He watches you smile, opposite ends of your mouth pulling at your cheeks in a motion that doesn’t quite meet your eyes— but it’s convincing enough. “Better than your other friends, right Dad?”
Tumblr media
Shouta is avoiding you.
You know it, you can tell! He’s always gone nowadays— a couple weeks into your vacation and you can only count a mere handful of the times you remember seeing him. You’ve barely talked, barely stole a few glances here and there— he may as well have disappeared. He’s out somewhere, somewhere that involves your father, and the ocean, and his generously sized deck-boat. You don’t want to say it, but you know you’re the reason why. You’ve gone a bit overboard, perhaps, with the flirting. Ever since that night— even before then, it’d become a natural habit of yours to call the man Daddy.
And, now, he’s grown even closer to your parents because of it. Whenever you come down for breakfast they’ve already finished, leaving your plate in the microwave— as if you’d want cold, limp eggs and soggy, get charred bacon. You want to scream, really. There’s your mother, who leaves lingering touches and bats her eyelashes like some sort of schoolgirl. You feel almost evil for the rage that sears your blood— even more so when your first thought is she’s pushing fifty.
Then there’s your father. Who is and always will be, not if you can help it, closer to Shouta than you ever will be. They drink together a lot, the guest more in moderation, but it still hurts to see them laugh about old times— over, and over, and over again. Even when you’re the topic of conversation, despite your presence being completely ignored, it hurts. You’re right here.
So you mope, lounging around in your swim trunks. Your skin sticks to every surface, humid and thick as your mother complains to you about getting some sun, stepping out the house, then something about how you need to fix the look on your face. She says the warm rays on your skin will do you some good, the salty water of the sea against your body will toughen up your bones and loosen your muscles. But there’s really only one thing on your mind.
It trickles into about an hour and a half when Mr. Aizawa finally comes back. Your father too, you suppose, with flushed cheeks that only sake can replicate. It’s once you’ve been pulled outside and forced to stand in wet, thick sand that washes away from your feet with every sweep of the shore— that they return. Once the sun has begun to set, yet still bright enough to have your brows furrowed and eyes narrowed, they return.
“There’s my boy!” No one’s boy, actually. Your father shouts with an intoxicated wave, and the grimace on Shouta’s face is hidden behind his whipping hair as he slows the boat to a stop.
Or at least, you think so. It’s hard to see with the sun in your eyes, yellow and orange flakes of the gold star percolating your vision.
It dances along the surface of the ocean, pretty and shimmering the closer you step, the further you go, until you’re submerged in water from your knees—down. There’s a shout, something akin to a ‘catch!’, and you have barely any time to react to the ball that’s flying to you with an oddly precise amount of speed and velocity. You gasp, whipping your head back to catch the ball between two sea-soaked hands.
“What the hell?!” Your hands sting, pretty eyes blinking back at the two silhouettes in your vicinity. Mainly at Aizawa, who hasn’t even acknowledged you, let alone looked away from the resplendent horizon. And what’s so good about that? Of all things to look at— you’re right here! You don’t leave with the setting sun, nor do you only ever arrive with the rising one. You’re a constant, and you know you don’t hurt to look at.
So you throw the ball back, all your force behind it with a smug look on your face until it smacks Shouta in the leg— right in the center of his calf with a horrifying thump of a sound.
“Fuck,” You shout in horror, despite it all. Despite the desire to maul him the last few weeks, rushing forward into the water with the cutest tremor to your brows. “Fuck, okay, shit, my bad!”
And it seems you can’t move fast enough to wade through the rippling waves, where schools of tiny, nipping fish and textured shells had twirled and danced about through the currents of pellucid water. But Shouta seems just fine, almost as if he’d forgotten how to react to the feeling of getting punted with a ball at full force. He picks it up, waves it in his large palm, and throws it back. You can hear it tear through the air, just as it smacks you in the shoulder with so much force you don’t register it at first.
Numbness spreads along your arm, eyes blinking up at the older man who laughs. It’s quiet yet hearty, and not at all a pretty sound. It’s more contagious if anything, a wheeze of sorts, but your lips still curl into a petty frown regardless. You can make out a huff of “Your face!” broken up with laughter, biting back on his tongue.
“I’m not laughing.” You grumble, rubbing at your shoulder with faux diligence.
There’s an eerie smile on his face, enough to send shivers down your spine as water drapes your face and drips down your body— boat engine revving with ferocity as the men float off into the boarding dock— Aizawa’s presence arrives just as fast as it leaves.
You’re left to your devices, gawking as you process the last few minutes— his smile, your brattiness and stupidity, the way you’d only just noticed his prosthetic leg— at the mention you can feel miscellaneous fish brush against your own, scales shining through the transparent waters. You can’t help but smile too, wiping it away with the back of your water-draped forearm. Fuck.
It’s only been a month and you’re smitten. He’d left you in favor of your father again, and all you can do is giggle about it.
There’s not much you know about the man— now that you think about it. There’s been a brief drunken mention of him having kids of his own, a little girl, you think. Maybe a son? Despite his affliction for quiet, Aizawa looks as though there’s more he wants to say. To share, to tell. Your father must know it all, seeing as they grew up together, and part of you can’t help but feel a bit jealous.
Hmph.
“What’re you sulking for?” His voice has broken you out of a daydream, turning your body to look him in the eyes. The man of the hour— Shouta. You almost hate how quick you are to melt under his gaze, squaring your shoulders with the stability of poorly glued popsicle sticks.“That ball bounce off your head, too?”
“I’m not sulking.” You watch him walk around the perimeter of the shore, slow and calculating, with his hands balled up in the fabric of his black t-shirt. He pulls it overhead, tummy contracting and biceps rippling— it still manages to catch you by surprise, how much muscle he’s hiding under his baggy clothes. Your brain sets off a symphony of ooh’s and ahh’s, unable to tear your gaze from the light rise and fall of his chest.
Your eyes trail back up, past the bend of his collarbones, up the display of stubble on his throat— he’s staring right at you.
“Uh — I wasn’t. . anyway. . What’re you looking at?”
His lips twitch, briefly pressed together before relaxing as he steps into the cold water. He’s slow, hair rippling just as smooth as the ocean, the further he moves forward. And, despite that, he slowly curls a finger to and fro, as if he’s talking to a small kitten. “C’mere.”
You’re frowning when you trudge forward, hesitance in your step. “Mr. Aizawa,” you grumble, still something of a cute little sound, using the prefix your father introduced him with. Something about it makes Shouta’s frame stiffen— the title, or maybe the pettiness behind it. It’s not like you call him that when you’re in a particularly good mood. “You didn’t seem to want me around earlier.”
“Quiet,” He tuts, clicking his tongue as if he knows the game you’re playing. But despite the curt, clean-cut execution of his tone, his thumb finds your cheek with the same gentleness as a spring breeze. “Your parents were always around earlier.”
Oh.
You play off your surprise well enough, swatting his hand away with a deep grunt. Sure, it feels good. His hands on your skin— such rough palms that cover your body — but you’re not desperate. Not entirely, not even when he fixes the twist of your face with a quick look to your furrowed brows. You settle for a sigh, grumbling, “They don’t have shit to do with me.”
“You’re, what, twenty-five—“
“Twenty three.” You interject, almost proud you can correct him. Rivulets of water trail down your arms, and his gaze seems to follow its motion.
“Twenty three,” He echoes with something of a breathless sigh tilting his voice. For a moment you think it’s the interruption— he’ll work on it later. Maybe he’s been struck by just how much younger you really are. “They have everything to do with you. You’re still their kid, I doubt they’d be enthusiastic about leaving you alone with an older man. A stranger, at that.”
“But they did,” You look around, as if to prove your point. Shouta’s never been one for dramatics, let alone those fueled by snappy attitudes and rolling eyes, but it looks cute on you. Maybe even cuter if it were accompanied by tears. “They left us alone. . . Half naked. . . At a beach. . . Alone..”
“I get it. We’re alone,” Shouta’s voice has always been so deep, rumbly and tired and smooth in your ears but even more so when he’s irritated. “Drop the attitude.” It’s different in a way. Leaves no room for argument, though you still feel the overwhelming need to stomp your foot and keep on pressing. You can’t help the shudder, nor the goosebumps crawling up your thighs. It’s just so fun to push his buttons, to watch his passive face twist for a split second as he processes your words.
It’s not exactly hard when he allows it. Shouta lets you push until your heart’s content, only reprimanding you with a glance or cleared throat— and it’s almost eerie. You can’t help but feel
like you should be anticipating something, even as you stand flush against his thick body in lukewarm ocean water and he looks at you with contentment.
Then it occurs to you. . . He’s letting it build up.
“And you’re not a stranger, Mr. Aizawa.” Obviously you’re softening the blows, so he watches you step forward, arms crossed over his thick, plush chest. You’re just so cute, brushing past his overwhelming seriousness with a smile— albeit sly. He can’t stay mad forever. It’s not fair, how cute you are, with lips stretched out and teeth on display, with the apples of your cheeks rising, and the cutest little twinkle in your eye. He wants to kiss you. . . He wants to kiss you so bad it’s starting to hurt.
Especially when you lean forward, sunlight bouncing off the ocean surface and across your body— painting you in pretty, golden slivers of glow. Across your face, your chest, your stomach, your thighs. It’s been a while since he’s felt his skin against your own. Since he’s run his large, calloused hands along your body.
“What happened to ‘Daddy’?” He asks, absentmindedly.
“What?” You break his trance, looking down at yourself with a hint of something Shouta can’t quite place. Uncertainty, perhaps? Vulnerability, maybe. It’s odd, you usually prance around so confidently. You wear the tiniest— tightest— clothes known to man, have the smartest mouth, egg him on day in and day out.
That’s not it. You look smug. You’re playing him for a damn fool.
“Nothing.” Aizawa sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. It’s wrong— it’s cliché, maybe even taboo. He wants to wipe that look off your face. He wants to kiss his best friend’s son stupid. The man he’d just shared parenting advice to, the man he’d spent years upon years of highschool, college, divorces, with. It’d been so innocent when he’d visit— maybe he should’ve never stopped. Maybe he shouldn’t have come back to see you in full bloom, so handsome and lithe and sweet.
“ ‘Nothing,’ ” You echo, snarky as you mimic the flat, detached tone of Shouta’s voice. If you weren’t sulking before you definitely are now, readying yourself to push past him like some spoiled brat who was just denied their favorite candy after being caught trying to steal it nonetheless. So He holds onto your bicep, squeezing the flesh as it flexes with your feeble attempt at struggling.
“Are you done yet? Or do you need a minute to calm down?” He shifts his weight, voice calm and level as he holds you still despite the straining. Not a single hair on him is out of place, his tranquility almost alarming.
“Let go, old man!” He has to ignore the rush of adrenaline the back and forth gives him— the way he has an incessant urge to squeeze your jaw just a bit tighter.
“Hey,” You watch his lips curl to coo, a tone somewhat akin to a parent shushing a fussy child. Your face is turned to face him directly, “How many times do I have to talk to you?” Then impossibly close as his warm breath pans over the expanse of your face, “What’d I say about the attitude?”
“I don’t care what you say about it.” Your face is squished against his palm as you go to squirm your way out of his hold, but with the way his head angles down toward your face— you can barely get the words to sound convincing. There’s a giggle in your voice, like you think his frustration is amusing.“You like it, don’t you? Forget strange, you’re dirty!”
He’s the only thing keeping you upright, eyes narrowed and lidded, “Stop fuckin’ playing with me, little boy.”
Tumblr media
“Dad never lets me drive the boat,” Though the man can sense your whining from miles away, it still manages to catch him off guard. Shouta quirks a brow in questioning, hand hovering a polite foot away from your calf as you stand to walk along the wading boat floor. “Destroyed his last one when I was a kid,” (He doesn’t have to know you were actually nineteen when you did.) You speak in a tone that makes him think just maybe you consider it more your father’s fault than your own. “This one’s nicer anyway.”
“That’s wasteful.” Aizawa bites the inside of his cheek, brows furrowed into a familiar line. Had one of his kids done that it’d be a completely different story. Surely one they wouldn’t be proud of telling either. Through the corner of his eye he watches you dig into the cooler, scrabbling past the beer bottles and iced hennessy, to pull out an ice cream.
“To you,” You spare him a glance before finally plopping down in the passenger’s seat with much more force than necessary— especially when sitting on a boat. “I did him a favor.”
The cooler did a poor job— your ice cream is already melted and soft once it’s unwrapped. Thick, velvety cream that you lap up with your tongue dribbles down your knuckles. He should find it gross, but your pretty eyes flickering upward to meet his own as you take one long, slow lick up each bend of your fingers has done the complete opposite. Fuck. It’s hot— your sticky fingers and messy lips, your pinched brows and tiny, pleased whines.
If only it were his cock.
Shouta’s thick. Much thicker than your ice cream, he’s sure you’d feel a good stretch to your lips if you wrapped them around the head of his cock. You’d probably whine about how hard you have to try, how heavy it is on your tongue— how much it’s stuffing you full when it hasn’t even slid down your throat yet. You’d cry too, maybe, with drool slicking your chin and coating his dick in a pretty, shiny layer of thick saliva.
“Want some?” You lean uncomfortably forward, though your legs are over the arms of your seat and draped across Shouta’s lap. Already close, Shouta can smell the oreo on your tongue and vanilla cream by the corner of your lips. “You’re staring pretty hard.”
“Sit up,” The deflection is an answer in itself, yet the dark-haired man can’t find a reason to look away. “Before you hurt yourself.”
Instead, you take his wrist, thick and decorated with a long vein, to fiddle with his fingers. They’re long— healthy, strong, clipped haphazardly— big. He watches you split his fingers apart, lacing your free hand with his own— and though he remains with all five fingers up, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel the urge to close them around your much smaller ones. Shouta clears his throat while you hum, lapping at your ice cream before pressing your lips against his knuckles, “Want you to hurt me instead.”
“Hush,” There’s a sharp intake of breath, dark lashes fluttering as multicolored eyes glance past your shoulder. It’s evident he wants to say more— in the way he shifts his weight to lean outward. “You hardly know me.”
Your foot nudges his upper thigh, pressing into the firm skin as the boat moves further toward the horizon. It feels more secluded that way.. Private, even. As if there’s only the two of you left on the dreamy island. Your face looks a bit exasperated, like you’ve never had to work so hard in your life, and he has to admit it— it’s cute.
“I know you grew up with my dad,” He ignores the venom behind your tongue as you mention your father, letting out a low hum of confirmation. “I know you have two kids— adopted, right?”
“Hitoshi and Eri.” He interjects, voice soft and fond. You’d never noticed it before, but now you’re acutely aware of the gentle presence of breeze and rippling waters. Shouta’s relaxed face is much sweeter, still creased with age but not quite as deep. The cute, pinched dips between his brows are gone, but you know how to bring it back.
“Lucky. Wish you were my Daddy instead,” Aizawa isn’t sure which word he’s more hung up on, nor how it's so easy for you to completely twist his words— but as much as it rushes to his cock, gets him twitching in his pants and throbbing all the way down his heavy shaft— he doesn’t like it. You talk entirely too much. With lips much too sweet and sheen with cream. With a tongue that flicks and presses against your teeth when you smile. With a pretty voice he could listen to, all day. Something that’d sound better through choking and gagging—ragged and crackly and used. Your lashes flutter, soft and gentle against your cheek. “How old is Hitoshi? My age? If he takes after you, then. . .You’re just—“
“Listen to me,” Perhaps it’s not very characteristic of him, but he just can’t stop. Shouta moves without thinking, pressing his fingers into your cheeks until your lips are puckered. “For as long as I’m here,” he offers a squeeze. “For as long as your father is here,” then another, “Turn. It. Off.”
Your face melts into something floaty and distant, the smirk melting right off your face into something much more preferable. His thumb is so close, so close to your pretty lips. You blink once— twice, even— before regressing back into a grin, lips pressing against his long fingers. Fucking brat.
“I’ll just have to hit up Hitoshi sometime, then.”
The persistent comment nearly knocks him over, straight off the boat and plummeting into the cerulean depths of the sea. Instead, Shouta finds it better to step on the gas. . . To ignore the prickling heat in his blood, to ignore the easy taptaptap-ing of your fingers against the screen of your phone. It’s so easy for you to say anything around him— like a deliberate disregard for his reaction. His fingers thrum against the tiller, then wrap around its leather exterior to squeeze, and he doesn’t miss (not even for a second) the glance you give him through the corner of your eye.
The silence is almost painful. The motor speaks for you, loud and rushed and heavy. Aizawa’s jaw sets, clenched at each chiseled edge. His eyebrows furrow deep, angry, and his lips remain tightly shut. You can’t help but stare, watching his hair whip in the wind, dreamy and mellifluous. Not a moment of eye contact is shared, and you feel yourself slinking back into the white leather of your chair for the first time this evening.
Come the wooden dock just adjacent to the shoreline, Shouta’s throwing away wrappers (they’re all yours) and unbuckling his seatbelt. Your arms cross, a pout heavy in your lips as your eyes flutter closed. . Almost as if you being unable to see him makes him unable to see you.
“C’mon, baby.” You both miss the nickname, and despite the tension, it feels so natural dripping from his tongue.
Still, you whine. Mind occupied by your nearly offset tantrum prior to getting back at the dock. “I’m staying outside.”
“You’ll get heatstroke.” Shouta sighs, stepping back to lift you into his arms not even a moment later. You consider it ironic, for a moment, he always wears black despite the scorching heat. Bent at the waist as he leans over the open inside of the boat to unbuckle your seatbelt, his face remains stoic as your arms flail and fly to push him away. Your pretty face morphs into a nasty scowl, grumbles and mumbles toppling from your lips— you’re embarrassed.
He sets you down on the creaking wood, hands placed steady at your waist and shoulder to keep you upright— in your feeble attempt at escapism, your last result was simply going limp.
You just won’t budge, standing planted at the end of the dock despite the tugs to your biceps, forearm— hands, wrists. Your last attempt at pushing him away ends up in stumbles, nearly tripping over your own feet as you stomp down the polished dock, eyes hardening with the contact of deep, dark pools in Aizawa’s irises.
You were holding hands.
Tumblr media
It’s been days. You haven’t left your room in days. At first, Shouta doesn’t worry. He doesn’t think twice about it, doesn’t question why you don’t come downstairs. When he asks your parents about it it’s always the same thing— ‘That’s just how he is when he doesn’t get his way,’ or ‘He’ll come around.’ The more he asks, the mode suspicion, More questions, mostly wondering why he’s so enamored by their son— even if he had been closer to you when you were younger. But that was long ago, and you hardly remember.
And that isn’t even it.
He starts to worry, to feel bad, on day six. Not a single sound that even points to your presence. No creaking floorboards, no music playing from your old, antique and overpriced record player, no sounds of muffled laughter. It makes him feel out of his skin, like a bystander watching the inhabitants of this very beach house go about their day like nothing is wrong. But this wrong, so very wrong—
He wants you. His boy, his brat, his best friend’s son. It’s wrong and it’s taboo, but so help him, he yearns.
His feet had carried himself upstairs before his mind could, following after you a good half-hour later. You heard him on his way in, the shuffle of his slipper-clad feet from the outside of your door. Still, you’d made no effort to move, no effort to free yourself from the cocoon of your childhood blankets, no effort to open the door despite his gentle knocking.
“You ready to talk yet?” He was willing to brush it all aside. The pushing, the persistent flirting, the slight disregard for his feelings, the mentions of his son. Really, he was jealous. Maybe it’s unsavory for him to admit, maybe he shouldn’t think of his son as competition. And he knows, of course, there’s nothing there— he’s only ever competing with himself. He just can’t help it.
Maybe he’s a bit spoiled too.
“I don’t like being ignored.” Your voice was small, but he could still hear it through the door. He heard it all, every implication. His sweet boy, his spoiled brat. You froze, just briefly, before he let himself in. The door creaked slowly with its open and close, a gentle click of the lock as the air grew thick.
Your old bed is small and creaky. Almost as much as the underused floorboards, your old bedroom screams with just as much personality as it does neglect. There’s tiny figurines, posters, awards, memorabilia— but it’s all too clean. Even if it has collected dust, not a thing is out of place. Pristine. There’s a few scattered photos— awkward haircuts, familial pets, the works. . Unapologetically you, maybe when you were just a tad bit more naive— but you nonetheless. It even smells like you, just with a hint of sea salt and warm, summer-y vanilla. Shouta wants to bury his nose in it.
“None of my fancy college boyfriends liked it here, Maybe ‘Toshi would.” You shift your weight as Shouta sits at the edge of your bed, the springy mattress creaking ever so slightly. There’s something left unsaid between the small string of words— and it’s sour. Twists on Shouta’s tongue, like he’s bitten into old bread, and it’s not just the mention of past boyfriends. Sure, that’s not exactly what he’d call this. . . relationship, but it’s not like it’d feel wrong. And he’d certainly feel bitter if his son were in his shoes. “Guess my sheets weren’t silky enough. Can tell you what was, th—”
“I like it.” It’s simple. The admission— simple and sweet, like it’s obvious. Shouta watches your lips part for a moment, just to close again, like a fish out of water. You look so small when you’re caught off guard, glancing to the side and shifting your weight onto your palms as you sit in the comfy middle of your bed. He knows what you’re doing— redirecting the conversation by flirting (it does get his heart beating, he’ll admit it)— and it makes you seem softer, almost.
He watches you sniffle for a moment, a quiet sound as you shift your knees with exuberating coyness. Your eyebrows furrow, cheeks puffed into a pout because, “That's it? You just ‘ like ’ it?”
He’ll give it to you, you never give up. He’d been warned, he was skeptical, and he’s been proven wrong. And, in the brunette’s head, you’d tallied over three strikes. Perhaps he was being too lenient. And now, Shouta, the weak man that he is, simply wants to indulge.
“What else would I say?”
“That it’s nice,” You cock your head to the side. “That you’ve never seen a room so nice. Which m’sure is true, anyway. . Are you low income, Sho? I can’t imagine what it’s like being a single father of two— or one, since Hitoshi moved out forever ago.”
The older man takes a breath through his nose, and out through his mouth. Pretty irises flicker down to meet the rise and fall of his chest, the way his fingers pinch the bridge of his nose. Then, like the tidal wave of emotion has washed away back into shore, his voice is level as he speaks, “You spoke to him.”
“You ignored me,” You say it as if it’s obvious, simple, that if you can’t have Shouta you’ll have to settle for the next best thing. And though it’s not entirely true, you only really stalked his social media to learn more about his father, you don’t think your heart can stomach seeing pride swell in Aizawa’s chest. “Wanted your attention, Daddy.”
There’s a sharp intake of breath through his teeth, cold air rattling the bones as he watches you stare up at him. Your eyes look softer, boyish, wider at this angle. His pink tongue darts over his equally pink lips, “You don’t know what you do to me.”
“Show me.”
Tumblr media
“Shh, sh, sh,” Shouta’s cock slips down your throat with a low grunt, the slippery walls clench around the fat head of his cock. Just as he imagined it, cutting off pretty whines and gasps, head bobbing back and forth— like you can’t tell whether it’s too much or too little. There’s a slight burn— the stretch of his thick, sticky cock nestled against your throat— but it feels good, heavy and throbbing in a way that makes your brain shut off so quickly you drool. It sticks to his shaft and slides down his balls, painting your chin in a syrupy-sweet layer of saliva, but you’re too far gone to wipe it away. Such a good boy.
He must’ve said it aloud, because there you are nodding, lazily bobbing your head as he grinds in and out of your mouth. There’s a loud, sticky sound coming from your throat, squelching and soaked, obscene in a way that makes you whimper around your heavy mouthful of cock. He’s quick to correct himself— you only ever seem to behave when you’re stuffed with his dick, and he can’t have you thinking your behavior is acceptable. With a grunt, deep and velvety, Aizawa pushes deeper into your mouth until you gag— tight throat convulsing and quivering around his shaft.
You slurp loudly, choking and gasping as you struggle to pull back. His balls hit your chin, heavy and sticky and so fucking good as tears stream down your face. You’re starting to get into it now, making a mess of yourself as you stick out your tongue to lick along the prominent vein on the underside of his cock, eyes focused on the rings of saliva holding you together. Shouta pulls out to let you breathe, his cock quickly liding upupup your throat and past your lips until all you can do is whine and lean forward, lips wet with spit as you chase after what you’ve been wanting for the past month.
“Stop fuckin’ moving. Let Daddy use your throat, wanna hear you cry on it,” The bulge of his fat cock shows in your throat, in and out, in and out, in and out.
You want to whine, to beat your fists against his thighs, and kick your feet— it’s all so much. He has you by the hair, big hand pulling and tugging, lifting you on and off his cock like a warm, tight fleshlight. You fail to bite back a growl, though it emits more as a cute, pathetic sound, glassy eyes focused on his cock being shoved down your hot, wet throat. It’s so easy to press your lips against the darkness of his pubes, to smear pre along your pouty lips and cheeks. His cock jumps in your mouth, thick and long and curved, leaking at the tip.
It’s hard to adjust to the stretch, sputtering and gagging with such cute, greedy sounds. You’re getting ahead of yourself, eager, tongue lapping at the achy underside of his dick, pressed against his balls. And, with a gasp, Shouta pulls out, huffs and unintelligible groans filling the air. The blushing head of his cock taps against your cheek. Once, twice, again and again. “C’mere.”
And yet, despite all that bark, your eyes barely make contact with the ones above you. Instead they trace the pulse of his shaft, how heavy his cock hangs between his legs, how it makes his long fingers almost smaller in comparison. The way pre dribbles from the tip, sticky and warm and oh, so inviting. It’s as if he can read your mind, knows how badly you miss the weight of his thick cock stretching your throat, “You can do better than that," and you almost can't believe it.
Better? Your eyes flicker to the saliva dripping from your chin, suddenly aware of the slick pre smeared across your pretty cheeks and the heavy pants leaving your lips. What gets better than this? You let him use your throat like a new fleshlight, cried on his cock and muffled the sounds in his pubes. Ignored the aching of your own cock just to focus on his own, absentmindedly bucking your hips into nothing, even if it made you look like a pathetic puppy. Fine— you can show him better. You can break him first.
You blink rapidly, tears clumped in your pretty eyelashes, lips parting to, indubitably, sass the older man. “What, need help gettin’ it up? Fuck you, can do it m—”
Prideful boy. Shouta will have to fix that.
“— I wasn’t asking.” You really fucked up now, eyes wide as you’re lifted up by your throat and manhandled into Shouta’s strong arms. He smells good, and just as strong, as your face is pressed into his chest and your tiny, tiny shorts are pushed past your thighs. The air is cold, it spreads goosebumps along your skin, and you’re sure Shouta can feel them along his palm as he grabs handfuls of your ass. He ignores your off guard ‘Hey! I wasn’t done!’, ignores the squirm of your waist, ignores your poor, weeping cock.
Being the smooth, calculated man that he is, you’d expect Aizawa to put a rhythm and pace to his spankings. But no, there’s nothing for you to latch onto but the bundles of his hair as he hands out sporadic, random, and hard smacks along each globe of your ass. There is no back and forth, no favoring one over the other— it’s just where he wants, when he wants. If he wants to watch your thighs convulse and jiggle beneath his heavy palm he will, and if he wants to smack your hands away from his wrists as you tug and tug— he will.
Shouta groans when you let out a particularly pathetic cry, biting your lip and whimpering into his warm skin. You can feel his big hands part your cheeks, squeezing the skin until it spills over each finger and your ass has turned tender and sensitive. He coos, feeling you squirm and wriggle against his hold, “S’it too much? Daddy’s poor baby.”
It shouldn’t sound so sweet coming from his lips, even when it’s condescending and rough, even when he’s cracking his palm down again and again despite your kicks and squeals.
But it does.
“Da—ddy. . !” your voice quivers, hips rocking to an uncoordinated tune. So little contact and yet it feels like so much, his hot palms against your warm skin. . . The tears rolling down your darling face. . . The way your cock throbs against your tummy, your mouth aches with emptiness, your hole twitches beneath the weight of his fingers. The thought makes you want to whine all over again, body squirming and trembling as he holds and kneads the flesh of your ass.
“Quiet. I should shove my fingers down your throat to shut you up,” Shouta murmurs, so unnecessarily mean, kissing the dampness of your forehead before his hand cracks down against your plush ass three, four, five more times. You try to keep up your resolve, pretty legs trembling and knuckles clenching— but it’s just so hard. Being a brat is easy— it’s fun— you’ll give up a few tears, cry and pout, get your way. Easy. So you won’t break and give him what he wants. He’ll have to work for it, get a taste of his own mean, mean medicine.
Delayed gratification.
Wet llips open to speak, something smug and almost smart, but it’s reduced to a wet moan. You feel it—fingers spreading apart the globes of your ass, and more cracking down between them, on your empty, pretty little hole. For a moment your brain slips out of your body, thoughts static and turned to mush, fuzzy and convulsing where you lay. You process the sound of hushing, the feeling of wetness, the sound of slick spit against your skin. . . Thick, merciless fingers rubbing and tapping and sliding against you.
“Oh, god,” You sob, eyes fluttering shut and eyebrows pinching the second more pressure builds and— oh, a finger slips inside. “Fingers— that’s, oh god..” Inching in slowly, rubbing against your velvety walls and so fucking slick you’re beginning to see stars. Whatever you had your mind set on earlier flies straight out the window, your brain short circuits as your sopping hole flutters around his fingers, sucking them in.
“Fuck, baby, look at you clench on Daddy’s fingers. Want Daddy to finger-fuck this cute little cunt silly?” If you could see his face you’re sure he’d be smiling— an eerie thing, eyes trained on his fingers getting sucked back into you. Such a needy boy. “C’mon, say it. Tell Daddy you want his big fingers in your sweet, greedy little pussy.”
You can’t help it, hole throbbing rhythmically along his long fingers, squelching and gushing with stickiness. The swell of your ass ripples as you wiggle your hips, rising and falling to grindgrindgrind. “Fuck me already, c’mon, old man.”
“That what your little ‘boyfriends’ do?” Your lip quivers— he hadn't even flinched at the sass— and instead used your own words against you. “Oh, baby. They didn’t give that little boycunt the attention he needed, hm? That why you throw so many tantrums?”
Your hand finds his wrist, fingers wrapping around thick and strong limp just enough to get his hand moving, trying to guide him deeper, faster, harder. He should reward bratty behavior, but the words spill from his mouth almost immediately, “That’s it, just needed something to fill you up, nice and full.”
It’s ironic— he says it just before pulling out his soaked fingers. And, at your nightstand, opens the drawer to retrieve lube. You watch him pause, eyes scanning the contents of the drawer until his lips quirk downward. Lollipop wrappers. An ungodly amount— you really went on a hunger strike because he ignored you? For six whole days?
“What am I gonna do with you.” He sighs, but grabs a sucker regardless, tearing open its pretty, pastel blue packaging to reveal its red, shiny hard candy. He pops the treat into his mouth, holds it on the right side with his teeth, and squirts a generous amount of lube over the globes of your ass. His hands slip and slide as he guides it around, watches it dribble down your thighs and relishes in the way your hole opens up for him, soaked and sticky.
Your eyebrows pinch, hips wiggling as he pulls the lollipop free from his mouth and directs it against your own, “Suck,” He murmurs, but it’s forced past your lips before you can process the demand. Here come more tears, burning your nose as you hiccup out a tiny, overwhelmed, “Daddy?”
“It’s okay, I’m here,” He coos, circling the pad of his thumb along the rim of your hole. Even as your feet instinctively kick, there’s no reaction from him, just a pleased hum. “Keep sucking, atta boy.”
His thumb feels like a lot, makes you squeal and shiver as he presses it inside, and something hot and wet accompanies it. That's good, the heat of his tongue licking and sucking at your throbbing rim, bubbly spit dribbling down his chin and caught in his stubble. One hand is focused on fucking your boyhole raw, till your brain goes numb and you’re incoherent. His palm presses into the small of your ass, tongue working hard until your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, and your mouth flies open in a silent scream. He takes the opportunity to snatch the lollipop back, keeps his tongue pressed against your walls until—
He trails the glossy sphere of the candy down to your sloppy little hole, nudging and prodding until he slowly works the lollipop inside. “You can take it,” He growls, eyes trained on your fucked-out face. He can feel it, the tightening of your balls, the way your hole aches and pulses with the treat inside you. “That’s it, sweet thing. Wanna make this pussy cum, give it t’me. Let Daddy have it..”
He murmurs, and suddenly, instead of the treat that he’s popping back into his mouth, there’s the head of his perfectly thick, so big, cock pressing against your slick, thoroughly fucked-out hole and—
Oh.
“Sweet.”
You sob into nothing, back arching and spongy walls clinging down on Shouta’s cock as it’s worked inch by inch into you and— you can’t fucking believe it. You fought for so long, put on a bratty attitude and stomped your feet. Why would you ever push Shouta and his cock away for so long? Your breaths are short. Tiny little gasps as his large hands grip your ankles, spreading your legs open to get a better view of the thick dick pumping you full. Your pretty little hole, sheen with spit and lube, exposed and on display for him and his cock. And, yeah, this is everything you’ve ever wanted and more. . . You want him to break you.
“You’re— fuck, you’re so gross, Daddy,” Shouta grits his teeth, “Ohh, havin’ your best friend’s son on your fat cock, fuckin’ my pussy so full. . !” You’re straight up babbling, cross-eyed as each thrust knocks coherent thoughts out your brain. A real, proper slut, desperately humping upupup to fuck yourself on his dick. With this position— knees to your ears and holes on display, you barely have the control to move— but it’s cute to watch you try anyway.
“Shut up and take it,” He rasps, voice deep and scratchy in a harsh whisper as his hips snap back and forth. “Don’t want mommy and daddy to hear their son calling someone else daddy, do you?”
“Daddy— Daddy, my pussy—“ You’re babbling, it’s all you can do since Shouta is all force with his thrusts; takes what he needs, feeds you his cock good and so, so deep. Over and over, you let out broken whines, desperate for it, looking down as best you can to watch your own cock bob and jump against your tummy, thighs sticky with spit and lube. You can hear the sound of your slutty, pathetic moans, the wet plaplaplap of skin, lube trailing and frothing between your bodies as Shouta fucks into you. You can’t stop twitching— your legs, your hole, your cock.
“This is Daddy’s pussy,” He corrects, angling his hips just right, the heat of his cock pressing against every special spot you’ve got. Every bundle of nerves, every silky, spongy wall you’ve got wrapped around him. “Just like that,” You’re gagging for it, pouty lips parting with open-mouthed pants as he continues to watch your hole tighten around his thick, veiny cock. He has to swallow down his own drool, reaching deeper into you, your body jerking back as he pounds, and pounds, and pounds. You may not be a good boy, but you’re a damn good slut.
“Uh-huh, uh-huh. . .” Your breath is caught in your throat, and if you could, you’d scream, your body tensing as your cock throbs and bounces, cum spraying across your bare chest — stickiness shooting out your spent cock until you’re twitching, handsfree and body set ablaze. Shouta shows no signs of stopping, instead keeping his cock inside you as he flips you around, eyes narrowed. He fucks you through it, watching more cum squirt from your cock, leaky hole milking him for all he’s got.
“Dumb sluts love cock, baby. S’that what you are?” His voice is a low purr, pressing your face into the mattress, watching your ass fall back onto his cock until he feels himself aching hard, hard enough to start cumming inside you.
“Yeah, mhmm,” You drool into your pillow, absentmindedly fucking yourself back onto him. You’re desperate to chase after it, the searing spiral of pressure growing in your stomach, tight hole bearing down on his cock. “Daddy’s slut, s’me!” For a minute you think you’ve passed out, everything going dark as you ride out his hard thrusts, offering tiny movements of your own, up and down to satiate the erratic spasming of your hole, to feel his balls slap against your thighs.
“Good sluts take Daddy’s cum,” Your eyes, so glassy and empty, is what gets him, groaning loud as he pumps a load inside you. “Take it, boy. Let Daddy knock you up.” It’s messy, and downright pornographic watching his cum leak out of you, just for him to fuck it back in with the head of his dick. Shouta’s cum starts to kiss your insides and spurt straight onto that small bundle of nerves— fuck, it’s so deep. His thrusts are erratic and sloppy, thick rope after thick rope frothing around his shaft as he fucks it deeper inside. You never want it to stop, not the groaning or moaning, not the filthy sounds, not the cum filling up your hole till you can’t move.
He ignores your needy, overstimulated whines when he pulls out completely, his spent cock hanging heavy between his thighs. Even when you’re limp and boneless, body trembling violently, you want more.
“Da— Da—ddy,” You sob, eyes squeezed shut as strong arms pull you up and into even stronger thighs. Sitting on his lap now, Shouta coos hums, basks in the sight of his pretty boy’s afterglow.
“Daddy’s here. I’m here, I got you.” He whispers into your shoulder, and that’s all you need to hear. The thought of his best friend melts away— you’re more than that. You’re not just his best friend’s son. . .
You’re Shouta’s boy.
Tumblr media
Summer is coming to an end.
There’s a seasonal chill in the air and it’s getting dark in the early afternoon. The beach has switched its course, currents changing direction and fish disappearing from the shoreline. The weather is turning, branches are starting to grow bare and bloom in color, the wind picks up, and the clouds have yet to dissipate into the sky. . Shouta helps you pack, grumbles when you press chaste kisses against his skin the whole time— shuts down the stomps of your feet while you whine, “I don’t wanna leave.”
“Spring break,” Is all Shouta says, his mismatched eyes downcast in a way that highlights his long, pretty eyelashes. Then, voice barely audible, he whispers, “I don’t want you to, either.”
Your body visibly straightens, giddiness painting your boyish face as you smile wide and big. The older man almost regrets saying it, huffing with you lean impossible close to hug him tight. “Will you call me?”
“Whenever you want,” He says, as if it’s the most simple thing in the world. You watch as he throws your large bag of lollipops into your carry-on backpack, but not before plucking a treat free from the others. “You know I will.”
And that’s all you need to hear.
5K notes · View notes
reallyromealone · 2 months
Note
Can you do a long fic where bakugou has a baby brother like maybe 2 years old?
Title: sibling bonding
Fandom:my hero Academia
Warnings: male reader, baby reader, fluff, big brother Bakugo, soft Bakugo
Notes: I can't promise a long fic as my fic lengths are based off of how much steam I have but ill write what I can
☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️
Bakugo was happy to have the house mostly alone, his parents in Milan for two weeks he had off for a fashion show.
Why was he mostly alone?
Well they couldn't take his little brother, the two year old didn't do planes well and it was just easier to find a sitter or let him stay with someone for the time, usually their aunty. "Uh-oh" (name) said as he dropped his sippy cup carefully lifting it back up before wandering to his brother "ka!" He said happily as he climbed onto the couch "what squirt?" Katsuki said to the young tot who looked at his phone "what do?" He asked as Katsuki got notifications from discord "I'm texting a few friends, they're coming to visit later for a movie" he was always so soft with his brother, sure he was loud as the rest of his family but his baby brother took more after their dad so he always tried to be gentle.
"Oovee?" He asked curiously and Katsuki nodded "yeah a movie, we gotta get some snacks for you and me before it" he said to the boy who smiled "cake!" "No cake but we can get you a cake pop when we get our walk home drink" Katsuki knew how to compromise with the boy who clapped his hands excitedly.
Katsuki helped (name) put on his shoes before putting him on his shoulders, it was easier to do than hold his hands and (name) got to have fun.
The two went to the convenience store as (name) pointed to various snacks, Katsuki having to hinder the boy with the fact he wanted /everything/ the store had to offer but did compromise with some ice cream and little treats for after dinner and such.
"Cake!" (Name) was absolutely thrilled when Katsuki handed him a cake pop, the teen holding the snacks with one hand and had (name) on his hip as they walked home, (name) eating his treat contently, the boy taking a sip from their drink occasionally.
(Name) loved helping his brother, the tot getting to help put things together for the hang out "you get to watch a movie then it's bath time alright?" Katsuki said to his brother who did a little dance before running off to go play with his toys 'weird kid' Katsuki thought fondly as he finished prep.
"YOOOO BAKUBRO!" Kirishima said as he and a few other classmates entered the Bakugo house, Kaminari whistling at how nice it was inside "whose ready to paaaarty!" Mina said as her, ochaco and Momo came inside with snacks "let's watch some scary...shoopuff" mina halted when she saw the two year old in Katsukis arms, little (name) looking curious but recognized Kirishima from a few visits "little man!" Kirishima ran and grabbed the boy and lifted him "what's up!"
"Hiiii!"
"Whose the kid?" Kaminari asked as (name) spoke nonsense to Kirishima but it was probably his day if any context about "walk" and "cake pop" were to go off of "that's my brother" Katsuki said gruffly, a slight glare on his face as his friends looked at the babe curiously.
During the movie, the teens would notice Bakugo would be soft with the boy even when he scolded him "oi, leave that alone" "but you're smelly!" (Name) argued back, holding a book in his hands "put it down and park your ass and watch the movie or its night time" Bakugo said to his brother who huffed but complied "you're not my favorite brother anymore!"
"Ah? And who is?"
"Dad!"
The movie went on well, the group putting on a hero movie and before they knew it, it was (name)s bath time "bubububbub!" (Name) was pleased with the bubbles as he played with his toys, his older brother working around him to wash him "head back" the teen said gruffly as he put a visor on the boys forehead and rinced out the shampoo before repeating it with the conditioner "kaa! Ducky!" The boy squirted some water at his brother who rolled his eyes "wanna see something cool?" He asked his little brother who looked curious "ya!'
Katsuki put his hand in the water and activated his quirk, just enough to give a jacuzzi affect "whoa!" The boy said excitedly as Katsuki pulled his hand out "now, out ya go!"
"Nooo!"
"None of that! Come on, let's brush your fucking teeth and get you to bed brat"
(Name) cuddled into his brothers shoulder as he wore his fuzzy pajamas, the other teens waving him goodnight as Katsuki brought him to his bedroom and tucked him into bed "hah? What's this?" Katsuki held up a small handmade plush of him in his hero suit "Die'ite!" (Name) grabbed the plush and Katsuki felt a small smile creep on his face as his little brother hugged the toy "he a hero you like?"
"He's the bestest!"
1K notes · View notes
myballsyourballs · 12 days
Note
OKAY IVE BEEN IMAGINING A HAWKS X BAKUGOUS OLDER BROTHER READER?? okay but here me out bro, reader has been dating hawks for a while now, occasional family dinners at readers house with his parents, not brother, due to the fact that he’s training.
reader never brought up the fact that his younger brother goes to ua, and hawks never said anything about teaching 1a gym time-to-time, one day, reader goes to pick up katsuki early from school, and he realizes hawks is teaching, basically how everyone would react to one, finding out bakugou has a brother, and two he’s dating hawks??
(ps, hawks knew of readers last name, but never thought anything of it,)
big bro
Tumblr media
keigo takami x male! older bakugou brother! reader
genre: fluff and slight crack oneshot (1,300ish words)
notes: i’m not a massive fan of how i wrote this (i don’t think it’s very good) but it’s been sitting in my drafts for months so here you go
synopsis: reader is katsuki's older brother who is dating hawks -- katsuki doesn't know reader is dating hawks, and hawks doesn't know katsuki is reader's brother. it stays that way until reader has to pick up katsuki from school early while hawks is teaching.
masterlist | make a request
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Principal Nezu is shorter than you expect.
You expected him to be a man-sized rat, not a rat-sized man; though you suppose that isn’t an apt description either, given that he’s at least 2 feet tall and most rats aren’t 2 feet tall.
Regardless, he's still pretty intimidating when you run into him in the hall and he starts to ask you what you're doing.
"I'm looking for Bakugou Katsuki -- uh, my little brother. My parents wanted me to pick him up early since we're leaving today to go on a trip." Nezu seriously makes you nervous.
“Bakugou Katsuki is in Hero Training as of right now. You’ll be able to find him in the gym!” He smiles at you, teeth surprisingly white for a rodent. “Make sure to alert his teacher before you leave,” Nezu continues, an unnerving glint in his abyss-like eyes. You decide not to ask why he knows Katsuki’s timetable by heart.
“Sure. Thanks, Principal Nezu,” you smile, offering him a handshake kindly.
“Anytime, Bakugou-san.”
As you step into the gym, the first thing you notice is the smell of sweat. That, and the temperature. Despite the amount of heat emanating from the fire quirks of a select few and the body heat of everyone in the gym, it’s — surprisingly — rather cool. UA's unflinching ability to invest copious amounts of money into air conditioning was impressive. Your eyes trail across the sweeping ceilings and expensive equipment, whistling lowly. I should come here more often.
1-A looks to be split into pairs — sparring, maybe? — each student difficult to view clearly under the thin blanket of steam and smoke that surrounds them. Katsuki, however, is easy to spot among them. His explosions light up the room, the sound of the loud booms only rivalled by his rage-fuelled yelling. You watch, amused. Glad he’s… letting that out.
As much as you didn’t want to interrupt class (the idea of 20 different teenagers having their undivided attention on you was a terrifying thought), the teacher was nowhere in sight and you were running out of time. “Katsuki!” you call, waving at the angry red glare that lands on you. The boy, in response, rolls his eyes snidely and stays rooted on the spot.
You sigh. Little brothers are so goddamn annoying. “Let’s go, dude,” you urge, emphasising your words with a vague ‘hurry up’ gesture. He scowls, but obliges nonetheless, walking slowly over with his hands shoved into his pockets. Once he's in front of you, he stops.
“My teacher isn’t here. I can’t leave yet.”
“Isn’t it their job to, you know, teach? Where the fuck did they go?” You furrow your brows.
“Fuck if I know,” Katsuki responds, matching your curses with equal indifference. “He went with Deku to go and get something.”
“Izuku’s here?”
“Why wouldn’t he be, dumbass? He’s in my class.”
And that’s when you notice the rest of 1-A. 18 pairs of eyes stare at you in utter shock and confusion, burning with questions. Your body stills, awkward under their gazes.
“Is that… your brother?” a red-haired boy with sharp teeth asks, looking between you and Katsuki slowly.
“Yeah,” Katsuki replies nonchalantly.
You take in the other boy's appearance: the insane amount of gel in his weirdly-styled hair, pointed teeth and the fact that he was sparring with Katsuki. Close friend, bad hair?
“You must be Shitty Hair.” you say, prompting half of the class to erupt into giggles. Vaguely, you recall his name is Kirishima, but Katsuki says it so rarely that you barely even associate it with him. ‘Shitty Hair’ blushes at the attention, nodding bashfully with an awkward smile. He rubs the nape of his neck, glancing once again between Katsuki and you.
“I can see how you’re related,” he laughs uncertainly.
“I can see who got the good genes,” a pink-haired girl with horns calls, “clearly not Bakugou.”
“YOU WANNA SAY THAT AGA—”
The doors slam open. You first see Izuku, who pauses at the commotion, and behind him you see… your boyfriend? What the fuck?
“Keigo?”
“[Y/N]?”
“[Y/N]-nii?” Izuku adds.
“Nii?” someone whispers in confusion.
“Hey, Izuku,” you respond weakly.
Silence falls. You take a moment to appreciate Keigo in his hero costume before the dots connect and you turn to Katsuki accusingly.
“He’s your teacher!?”
“He’s your brother!?” Keigo counters.
You turn to your boyfriend. “I told you I have a brother. You know my last name. You’ve literally met my mother and she’s the carbon-copy of Katsuki. Keigo, what even?”
“Er, well, in hindsight, maybe you’re right— but... you’re so nice,” he says, disbelief evident in his wide eyes and confused brows. “And he’s so… not—”
“The fuck did you just say—!?”
“Young man, I will give you a detention if you swear at me again,” Keigo says sternly, schooling his face into something unnaturally serious and crossing his toned arms over his chest. You can see the humour dancing his eyes, prompting you to chuckle quietly.
Katsuki rolls his eyes. “Yes, Hawks-sensei,” he mutters, face contorted into a scowl. He angrily taps his shoe on the ground.
“Stop being a shit,” you chide, grabbing Katsuki by the shoulder roughly and rubbing your knuckles into his skull. The rest of 1-A watches on in absolute disbelief. (Except Izuku. He’s used to this.)
Katsuki groans exasperatedly, “You stop being a shit.”
“Hey!” Hawks gasps dramatically, “don’t call my boyfriend a shit!”
Silence.
You rub a hand over your temple in an attempt to ease your oncoming headache.
“YOUR FUCKING WHAT?!”
“Katsuki—”
The rest of 1-A is left in shock. (Including Izuku, this time). Some start yelling, some look like they’ve turned to stone, the usual. You’re too busy trying to hold back your feral little brother from attacking Keigo — you know he won’t actually, you’re just hoping Keigo knows that too.
“Wait, you’re gay?” A boy who you can recall as Kaminari splutters. Your face crinkles into confusion, nose scrunching like you’ve smelt a bad odour. You can see why Katsuki calls him Dunce Face.
“It runs in the family,” you say, with a pointed look to Katsuki.
His exhaustion must’ve caught up to him since he only offers a middle finger in response. Kaminari bursts into startled and slightly scared laughter.
A warm arm makes its way around your waist and it takes an embarrassing amount of effort for you to suppress a smile. You don’t even have to look at Keigo to know that he’s grinning.
Neither of you are big fans of PDA, but the urge to hug him right now is particularly strong; especially since he’s right there, but there’s also 20 kids right there which sucks and you have to go��
Right. You and Katsuki need to go. That was the point of this whole ordeal.
“Keigo,” you murmur, quiet enough for only him to hear. The rest of the class has ignored the two of you in favour of chatting amongst themselves or questioning Katsuki. Keigo hums, meeting your eyes. He smiles, his golden irises pooling with affection and his arm squeezing gently around your waist, seemingly in a trance. You chuckle, “I need to go.”
He startles. “Right! Right,” he says, clearing his throat. You pretend not to notice the faint tinge of red high on his cheekbones.
“Okay, 1-A. I’m gonna go sort this out quickly,” Keigo says to the class, his voice raised slightly in order to drown out the talking. “So please continue sparring — without quirks — until I’m back. I won’t be long.”
The class answers an affirmative, and then the two of you (plus Katsuki) are out the door. You turn to face Keigo, placing a quick peck on his lips. “I thought I just needed to tell you Katsuki was leaving and then you’d sort it?”
“That’s true… but I missed you,” Keigo sighs wearily, acting like he hadn’t seen you in years. (You spent the night with him literally yesterday.)
“Stop before I tear my fucking eyes out,” Katsuki interrupts. Keigo lifts his head to glare unhappily at him.
“Piss off, Katsuki,” you grumble, placing a slightly longer kiss on Keigo’s lips. You pull away at the realisation that you’re probably late, which means you’ll probably have to face the wrath of Mitsuki Bakugo. “I should— we should go. I’ve stayed way longer than I needed to.”
“Thank fuck,” Katsuki grumbles, occupying himself with his phone. Teenagers.
Keigo groans dejectedly but lets you go nonetheless. He watches you walk away, waving. “Bye, honeybear!”
“Don’t call me that!”
499 notes · View notes
sooniebby · 11 months
Note
Bae I’m back! This time with a Drabble request because asking for full length fics makes me feel guilty. Anywayssssss
Iida…. Hear me out. I’m a SIMP for nerds who are secretly freaks and I feel after the stain incident it’s clear this man is one of those. He def has a size kink I mean he’s built like a god but he also has a brat taming kink. Just imagine him with a lil delinquent reader who simply doesn’t respect his “authority” and he finally gets fed up and puts him in his place. Idk this man just does things for me
Consensually ofc
xx
Tumblr media
ఌ 𝐈𝐈𝐃𝐀 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐘𝐀
꧁ 𝙏𝙚𝙣𝙮𝙖 𝙭 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂
Smut 𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙗𝙗𝙡𝙚! ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
You didn’t exactly know how you got yourself into this situation. Face pushed down onto the bed with your ass up in the air. A slap jolted you forward as you cried out in pain. Your ass was aching from the continuous spanking.
Iida was someone you liked pissing off. It was funny to see him yell at you about the rules or what not but you never really imagined he’d do this to you. You and Iida were studying together, not sure how that happened, and you mentioned something to piss him off.
You didn’t even remember what you said. What you really remembered was how easily Iida picked you up and put you in this position. The sound of the harsh slaps against your skin was the only noise in the room, with your muffled whimpers to accompany it.
Iida wasn’t saying anything and somehow that made it hotter in way. As if he was so angry that the only way he thought you could learn was if he discipline you like the brat you wanted to act like.
“Iida…” you whined. “I’ll be good, promise…”
He stopped for a moment, as if he was thinking before you felt him slip in a finger inside of you. It went in easily, due to your previous masturbation before you went to see him.
A chuckle was heard as you bit down on the sheets to muffle your gasps. “Did you want this to happen? That’ll explain why I don’t need lube.”
You didn’t answer, twitching at the way Iida had easily found your prostate. He grazed it each time, making you whine at the teasing. Your cock twitched from beneath you—precum leaking onto the bedsheets.
A sudden pull at your shirt’s collar forced you to lean back against Iida’s chest. You couldn’t really see him but it was scarily horny at how easily he could move you around with no extra strength.
“Answer me. I asked a question.”
“No…”
Iida hummed as he slipped in another finger, pumping them in and out. He didn’t even try to touch your prostate, leaving you to whine at the lost.
“I know you don’t really have manners for others but with me, I thought you would’ve known I don’t tolerate disrespect,” he whispered into your ear. It felt like Iida was a whole different person.
But you certainly liked that.
Iida pushed you down into the bed and pulled out his fingers from your ass. You could hear the faint noise of his zippers being unbuttoned. A small feeling of glee was felt as you wiggled your hips.
“Huh, you think this is for you?” Iida moved his hand to grip at the back of your neck. His hand almost covered the entirety of it. Even with just one hand, he effectively had you pinned down.
“This is for me and only me, (Name).” It was the first time he had ever said your first name. Iida’s cock, that you wished you could’ve seen, was harshly shoved inside.
He was true to his words. His thrusting was mainly focused on chasing his own release. But you didn’t care. If he was using you, you’d gratefully allow it.
You moaned pitifully, hoping he’d at least try to touch your prostate but it seemed he was purposefully missing it. His hand around your throat moved up to your hair and pulled it, gaining a cry from you.
He held onto your hair tightly as he used you like a fleshlight. The sound of skin slapping together paired with your moans and bed creeks filled the room. Whoever this new Iida was, you wanted him to last.
“Iida… I wanna cum!” You whined.
“No.”
A pathetic whimper left your throat. It was hot to see him not care for you and be so set on teaching you a lesson but you at least hoped he would try later. Your cock was just leaking for its’ release.
Suddenly, Iida turned you around to lay on your back, giving you a full view of him. His glasses were off and his hair was beginning to stick to his forehead. He didn’t look particularly happy or horny, more calculating.
As if he was thinking about what particular moves to do. And you soon learned why when he moved your legs up to your ears, something you didn’t know you could do, and began to thrust downwards inside of you.
This angle was hitting your prostate constantly. A scream left your lips as you tried to get used to the sensation. You arched your back as you reached over to grip at his shirt, pulling him down for a kiss. But he didn’t kiss you—he pressed a finger against your lips instead.
“Only good boys get kisses.”
You whined in embarrassment. Iida really had you now didn’t he. You came right after that. Iida was someone you dreamed of having sex with—but this right now was hotter than any dream.
Much to your surprise, Iida pulled out before his orgasm and pushed you down on the bed. He moved to aim his cock at your stomach and rubbed himself until he came, coating his cum all over your stomach.
“And only good boys get to be rewarded with cum inside.” He said, patting your sore butt as he got up to get some wet wipes.
You frowned at the cum on your stomach. Maybe you should rethink your little delinquent attitude.
But maybe a balance. Where’s the fun in being entirely good?
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
You said brat taming and I ran with it… trying some new kinks, whatcha think?
Also don’t feel guilty about requesting! It’s what my blog is for
Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @chill-guy-but-cooler @mello-life69 @kiiyoooo
(Ask to be added to the tag list/you’ll be tagged in every fic I post)
2K notes · View notes
seretoningghost · 7 months
Text
Tamaki Amajiki x Male Reader
Warnings : SMUT
Tumblr media
This ones more like a imagine, Idk why, I'm between finishing and editing like a douzen of works very close to postage finality.
That and Im a huge simp for Tamaki and dunno what to write with this prompt in mind... So send in dms or comments if y'all have any ideas.. :)
....  ....  ....
So imagine, being fuck buds with Tamaki.
Like, Tamaki???? Of all people???? Has a fuck buddy????!????
And imagine he gets banged more than any of his sophomore buds 😵😩😎
But no, listen, its not Y/N askin for it - nah nah. Its TAMAKI.
TAMAKI STARTED THE RELATIONSHIP.
OUT OF THE BLUE EVEN-
Tamaki pulled his kohai aside one day, all shy like, and was talking to Y/N out where no one could overhear or see him.
Looking down at the ground because looking at the tall ass held back a grade male would make him pop a boner so hard, and said " y-you w-wanna um... y-you.. w-wanna f-fuck m-me? " a bit rushed.
Y/N just stares, he would have been audibly freaking out if it was anyone else - but its Tamaki. There's no way this is real.
Y/N would have blushed if it was even a slight possibility his crush meant that.
" what? did you get dared? or... hit on the head during training?" Y/N stepped close, Tamaki gulping and face going red - heart pounding in his ears as Y/N's big shoes came into view.
Y/N gently directed Tamaki's face to look up, Tamaki just blushed harder - horny circuits heating up so much they were fusing.
Y/N simply looked over Tamaki's face - checking his eyes for odd dilation, meanwhile Tamaki could hardly keep himself from falling apart.
He just asked his crush to fuck, and he didn't even ask " is this a prank? ".
" well.... I didn't see you get hurt during training... " Y/N tried to pry for a answer.
" I... I'm b-being s-serious! " Tamaki tried to firmly say - failing miserably..
Y/N's eyes went wide, still unsure, but still taken back by it.
" ..... you sure?... "
Tamaki nodded, fidgeting his leg - the warmth of horny overtaking him.
So here it was..
Tamaki months later. Still getting his ass pounded.
Laying belly down on his bed - shirt slightly unbuttoned, and meerly slid up a bit.
Tie undone, pants and boxers hanging around his left ankle.
Body covered in thin sweat.
Legs spread open - quietly moaning and gasping as Y/N's cock penetrated him deeply and stimulated his hidden pleasure centers.
Whimpering at the fabrics rubbing against his nipples and lewdly wet bellend and shaft.
Spit dribbling down his chin as his back arches - letting out a pathetic louder moan as he clutches his pillow tighter.
Moaning lovingly as he shoves his face back into his pillow.
Tamaki never fucks without a pillow in immediate face covering range.
Then there's Y/N - groaning and moaning - body dripping with sweat, giving Tamaki everything he's got.
Doing everything to Tamaki's liking - aiming for deep sweet spots, thrusting as hard as he can, going as deep as he can, slowing his thrusts occasionally because he's found out Tamaki enjoys it.
But Y/N is doing everything in his power to make his upper classmen happy - and blissed out of his mind.
Not knowing Tamaki was going sex crazy over it - falling deeper and deeper in love with Y/N.
It was like Y/N was hynotizing Tamaki with that huge cock.
But what really turned Tamaki on - was Y/N himself, his hips hitting Tamaki's ass, Y/N loosing balance occasionally...
And having to slide his hands slightly, or grip tighter on Tamaki's hip.
Letting out a excited and shocked girly moan, body tensing at each touch.
He really liked when Y/N got close - because Y/N would shift his hand on Tamaki's hip a lot.
Y/N would get more vocal - swear more, which always sounded so hot.
Having Y/N's big body looming over him, Y/N's thrusts getting a bit sloppy - yet firmer, his large warm hand gripping tighter on Tamaki's small hip - his hot breath fanning on Tamaki's back, neck and hair.
" FUCK..! " Y/N huffed between thrusts, more like a quiet grunt.
It was so hot.
Y/Ns other hand would occasionally shift on the bed, ruffling the sheets, fingers grazing Tamaki's belly.
Tamaki would get close too, body quaking, if getting plowed didn't get his close - Y/N being sexy would.
Then Y/N would crane over, chest almost rubbing against Tamaki, despite the super hot air Tamaki could still feel Y/N's radiating heat.
He almost wanted to beg for Y/N to put his body weight on him and squish him.
But by now Y/N would be groaning and swearing right in Tamaki's ear, Tamaki would be girlishly moaning into his pillow - hoping Y/N didnt notice.
" ah~.. ah~ ah~! "
Which Y/N did, with how much repetitive quick moaning - even the slap of Tamaki's ass with each thrust could distract him.
Tamaki would be rocking back and forth roughly with each thrust, enjoying feeling so small.
Then Y/N and him would cum, the condom Y/N used getting filled.
Tamaki would make a quiet " mmNnhhh- " noise as he shuddered, quietly cumming his sheets.
Soon after a little pant time, Y/N would pull out - looking Tamaki's sexy body over as he marveled in the after glow of Tamaki's sexy body..
His chest raising and lowering with soft pants as he laid there, still holding his pillow.
Y/N always wanted to go again, but felt that since Tamaki never asked for it - he didn't want it.
But Tamaki always kinda fantasized of hearing a second condom rip open while he rested.
Y/N would take off the condom, tie it up - toss it away, clean himself up - and... Well...
Always want to help clean Tamaki up... But...
Y/N tried once - had a warm wash cloth, tried to rub down Tamaki's back - Tamaki jumped, looking over his shoulder bright red.
" w-what are you d-doing..? "
Y/N explained, suddenly blushing too, frozen - and a bit scared by the sudden reaction.
Tamaki gave a small " oh... " and just looked away and didn't move.
Y/N - not wanting to step his boundries again took that as a stop.
And asked if Tamaki would like him to draw a bath.
Tamaki said no - hoping instead that Y/N would continue to clean his body.
Y/N didn't, and Tamaki saw why not - he was holding back and being wary of him.
Seems Tamaki started Y/N.
Tamaki was upset about it, but was too shy to mention anything.
So Y/N never tried again.
After cleaning himself up Y/N would leave, saying goodbye.
Now how did the two even decide when to fuck?
Tamaki would walk over, tug on Y/N's hand and simply utter " u-um... ", and Y/N would follow Tamaki to the dorms.
But imagine the first time Tamaki asked to fuck again?
Y/N thought the very first time was just a one night stand.
So when Tamaki walked up to him 4 days later - tugged on his and and stuttered.
Y/N turned and stared intently, wondering what Tamaki had to say.
It took a while of Tamaki stuttering and vaguely insinuating for Y/N to get the idea.
Y/N was almost instantly erect.
Other than approuching Y/N, Tamaki would occasionally text to meet up in one of their rooms.
Tamaki usually did this late at night when the dreadful horny struck.
Usually asking if he could sneak over to Y/Ns room.
Since Y/N agreed that he didn't care if anyone knew Y/N was fucking, but they usually fucked when no one else was in the dorm.
Tamaki would sneak over to Y/Ns room - more like just slowly walk over to Y/N's room, if anyone saw him they usually just assumed late night snack or a walk.
But little did they know that was the excited fluttery hearted walk of a man about to get his ass pounded.
Did Y/N's next door dorm-mates notice?
Occasionally they noticed Y/N fucking.
But not often, they assumed he got his cock wet occasionally, but not nearly as much as he actually did.
They were only up occasionally, that or they slept with headphones on.
It was a highschool dorm, someone was usually fucking or masturbating.
No one would have guess it was Tamaki though. Not only cause of the girly moans, just all around Tamaki's mannerism.
Ooh~! What if Tamaki was dragged into a truth or dare with class 1-A!
" c'moooon~! you only have to play threeeeeeeee rounds! " one of them would convince.
So here Tamaki was forced.
And Tamaki is a coward - and well " how bad could their truths really be anyway- "
" soooo... are you a virgin Tamaki? " Mina would ask.
Tamaki went beet red, wanting to lie and chock the blushing up to it being a embarrassing question.
" no. " he would blurt, turning even more red, it was hard to say yes when all he could remember was Y/N fucking him..
" shit... " Tamaki was done for.
He wanted to die. Right then... Right there.
He knew that everyone would take the chance to ridicule him, and bully him into spilling all the details.
Everyone seemed surprised and intrigued.
He tried to insist his 3 rounds were up before someone finally got to him, but everyone kept saying " three rounds of questions directed at you ".
Tamaki tried to refuse, and tried to just walk away - but Mina grabbed his leg and held him back.
Tamaki didn't even look back as he stood still in defeat, staring at the ground.
" ...... let me go....... " he whispered quietly.
" only if you answer one more truth! " she bargained - more like terrorist.
" ...... fine......" he had no other choice.
" who-"
" No. "
Mina had to think up a good one now, when was his last time? (Last night) Where? (Y/Ns room) Ah ha!
" how many times have you done it total? " of course she picked practically the second most personal question..
(Last time done it being the first)
Tamaki paused, actually sweating as he tried to wrack his brain for a answer.
He could just lie - but again Y/N fucked the smarts out of him, and thinking of him had the same effect.
" um.... a-actually.. I-I... I don't I-know...? " Tamaki mumbled.
Everyone's jaws dropped, they were expecting a 1.... Maybe 4.... Max 8?
Nope. Tamaki couldn't. Even. Fathom.
....
Tamaki lifted his leg out of the slack gripped Mina quickly, and sped walk away.
Eventually Y/N and Tamaki would confess their feelings... And begin a relationship - and finally come out a month after starting their official boyfriends relationship.
And Class 1-A would just stare slack jawed..
Neither of them knew why.... Until... Tamaki remembered...
He became insanely red, and said he was gonna get a snack.
So Y/N was left to hang out with his friends.
After a bit they suddenly asked " so... your who fucked Tamaki so many times he couldn't even count them? ".
.... Oh ....
.... .... ....
So Idk, I didn't know what to do at the end.... Like I always do....
But I really liked the scenario - and for a thirst its decent. B]
I have another fic you guys'll get tommorrow, for now have this.
Idk if I'll ever write this out fully? Maybe if someone suggests something good for it? Idk.
821 notes · View notes
l1tw1ck · 3 months
Note
Smth w ftm reader fingering bakugou/prep him to bottom? With some praise, please n thnsk you!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
bottom katsuki x top!ftm reader
cw: fingering, praise
Tumblr media
Katsuki leans his head back with soft whimpers leaving his mouth as he experiences being fingered for the first time. "You're such a good boy, Katsuki, taking my fingers so well." You kiss his cheek. "I like hearing you too, you sound so sweet."
He lets out a moan in response. "Th- thank you-"
You smile. Anyone who knows him would lose their minds if they saw him like this. You can't even believe it yourself. It was a slow but rewarding process to get him so comfortable and submissive. You aim your fingers at his prostate, making him basically jump in surprise. His eyes are wide open. "How does that feel, baby?"
"..Good...do it again.."
"Did it make you feel so good that you forgot your manners?" You chuckle.
"Please, [Name]."
"That's what I like to hear." You start to play with his prostate, making his cock twitch and his legs shake. Katsuki starts to moan louder than usual. You use your free hand to jerk him off, driving him completely nuts. He can barely get a proper word out. He never knew being fingered would feel so good.
"I– I'm gonna–" He interrupts himself with a moan. He can't believe he's about to come so quickly. He rolls his eyes back and comes, cum spurting all over your hand and his torso. He might get addicted to this.
You pull your hands away and let him recuperate. "I can't wait to see how you react when I fuck you with my strap."
Katsuki shivers in arousal at the thought.
508 notes · View notes
malereadermaniac · 2 months
Text
Barrack bunny ~ BNHA guys x Bottom Male Reader
Military AU Characters: Bakugo, Deku, Shoto, Kirishima, Sero, Kaminari, Hawks Art Credit: KADEART (Hawks) - couldn't find artistis for the other 2 nsfw! minors dni & fem readers dni!
Tumblr media
In an all men's unit, within which all of the guys worked out constantly and looked the part, you were different
You were evidently gay, something which is thankfully accepted nowadays
But most of the guys took a liking to you despite you out-ly being gay - something still slightly frowned upon in the army
You weren't annoying and you did your job, but you were nice to everyone and would always check in on guys when they looked down
But the thing that your peers noticed the most was the fact that you were the dictionary definition of a barrack bunny
Not that any of them were complaining about it - they were all young men around their 20s which still had hormones and needs
It just became tricky when most of the guys took a liking to you which was further than a sexual one
Katsuki Bakugo
The man was practically made for the military - he follows orders to a tee and sticks to the set routine
Bakugo is serious about his role in the army, even if he is in the lowest rank there is
He takes training seriously, which is very evident when you take a look at his body - he looks like he was sculpted by a god
The blonde's pecs and abs were chiselled as hell and his back was massive just like his arms
The way Katsuki carries himself just exudes confidence - and holy fuck he just looks right with a rifle in his arms
Bakugo had noticed you around, you did stick out like a sore thumb at the end of the day
The blonde really did take a liking to you, despite not really showing it
He would subconsciously look out for you on the field and would blush whenever you helped patch him up
And whenever the explosive man would need to release some steam, you were always there for him
Katsuki had never questioned his sexuality - he'd always thought of himself as straight
But hey, the army brings out parts of men that they didn't know they had
Whenever Katsuki wanted you- no rather he needed you, the blonde would walk over to your bed and knock on the frame three times
A small signal he'd established with you to let you know he needed to feel you around him
You would then tip-toe over to somewhere quiet and go at it like bunnies - just like your nickname suggested
You'd always found Katsuki at his hottest in his uniform, so he made an effort to wear it most of the time when fucking your brains out
He looked so good, maneuvering your body and making you do exactly what he wanted while in uniform
The muscular man also would go fully out when fucking, a dominating and sadistic persona coming out of him - to your utmost of pleasure
Katsuki would make you worship his body toe to head (litterally)
The man would make you kiss his boots, make you take them off and kiss his feet before letting you move up all along his body
The blonde would make you choke on his veiny, sweaty dick, his bushy pubes stuffing your nose and limiting the already little oxygen you were receiving
Bakugo loved having power over you, so most of the time he'd let you put in little to no effort while he ruined you
Katsuki covers your body in his own unique marks while he pounds into you
He forces you to kiss him and his body while he drills his dick into your prostate
By the end of the night, you've both came twice and half the barrack is awake - but neither of you could care less
The two of you were like a perfect match, affectionately and sexually - so it made things complicated when Bakugo began wanting you to himself
The built blonde started showing his affection towards you more publicly
Katsuki would also be more brutal during training, shooting glares at his peers which are also frequent visitors of your barracks
And the sex would only get more possessive and more rough as Katsuki's feelings for you strengthened
He wanted you to himself more and more
Izuku Midoriya
If there was another person that didn't really fit in with the other soldiers - it was Izuku
He was more meek and less hard-core about the army than his peers
However on the training grounds, it became evident that Izuku belonged in the army
The man was ruthless, he had his mind set on the end goal and we would reach it
His body was incredible, built perfectly - he wasn't incredibly muscular but he most definitely wasn't un-fit
Midoriya and you became friends the first day of your mandatory service, and he immediately took a liking to you
The green-haired man found you caring and calming - he could always be relaxed around you
Being wreckless on the training grounds meant the man was always in need of bandages
And Izuku loved how carful and dotting you were whenever you patched him up
The meek man, of course, knew about your reputation as the unit's barrack bunny, but he couldn't care less - it just meant he had more reason to like you
Whenever Izuku craved your touch, craved your body, he would tiptoe to your bed and scratch your head, ruffling your hair for a hot minuet before making hid way to the disabled bathroom
No-one in your unit was disabled, so that poor bathroom was your go-to spot for sinful activities
Midoriya loved it when you rode him, he loved holding your waist with his rough, scared hands and just admire your the contrast between your bodies
The muscular man also wasn't small whatsoever, the small bulge in your abdomen everytime you sank on his veiny cock was proof of that
You loved listening to Izuku try to hold in his moans, small whimpers escaping his throat through his gritted teeth, his face scrunched up as he struggles not to cum while holding in his noises
The sound of your ass slapping against Izuku's muscular thighs would echo throughout the bathroom along with your moans - which you never bothered to hold in, half the barracks had heard them before at their own hands
Izuku would kiss you constantly, your lips plump from how long the man makes out with you for - and when he isn't kissing you, he's marking your neck eith his own light pink lovebites
And due to Izuku'a fit nature, he can last for a long time
Your poor self is fully spent, having came 3 times by the time Izuku finally shoots his boiling hot load inside of you
What pushes Izuku over the edge of lust to love is the many moments you two have shared after the green-haired hunk has re-aranged your guts
Your heavy breathing harmonising with his as you comfortably lay your naked body on Izuku's
Midoriya likes to run his rough fingers up and down your back, the two of you Chat about almost anything during that time - he's never been so close with someone before
When Izuku comes to terms with the fact that he likes you, he starts to be more possessive of you - he calls out his peers when they talk badly about you and glares at guys who say they need a piece of you
But mostly, Izuku's sex drive increases ten fold - he fucks you day and night, at the training grounds or even your own bed with the others around
Shoto Todoroki
Shoto was ranked just slightly above the others - of course due to his efforts in the army, but mainly due to his father making a generous donation
He still slept in the same barracks and would only be in charge of your unit if absolutely no other superior was on the field
The others liked Shoto, he didn't get much special treatment and he still put in a lot of work - he would train like a maniac
The stoic man would spend most of his free time in the gym rather than anywhere else
Shoto knew about you, but he'd never really been interested in you
He'd heard his peers talk about how good you were and how charming you were, but the half n' half man was never really interested
That was until he really paid attention to you on the field
You caught his eye and he couldn't wrap his head around 'how someone could look so good on the field while also doing so well'
Shoto really admired your dedication to your role - and it really did help that you were fucking drop dead gorgeous
The tall soldier had decided he wanted to see why everyone was so smitten over you
So the two of you started talking quite a lot; to the point where Shoto would subconsciously look for you first in a new room
Another perk that came with his father's donation was that Shoto had a private bathroom - a room which the two of you became very familiar with
Shoto would even bother being sneaky about it, the man's ego would actually get inflated when he would ask you infront of everyone to go fuck
"(Y/n), join me in my ensuite?" That's all the man would say and you're already perking up and following behind the tall soldier
For a sheltered rich boy, Shoto can sure get down and dirty with you
He strips down fully and likes to watch you stare at his slim-toned body, a blush creeping on your face as blood rushes to your dick
If there's one thing Shoto likes to always do with you it's watch you squirm against him as he fingers you ruthlessly
The toned man puts his slim, long fingers to good use, sitting you naked on his lap - your skin against his - as he abuses your prostate constantly
Shoto fucking loves watching you squirm and try to hump against his dick while he curls his fingers against your gummy walls
The man gets off to your whimpers too much for his own good
And by the time he re-aranges you to impale you on his dick, you're already stretched out enough to only feel the pleasure of Shoto's skinny, veiny 8 incher
Shoto's go-to is having you lay on the closed toilet while he towers his thin, muscular body above you - his dick plowing into you while he hand wraps around your throat gently
Your moans fill his ensuite immediately, accompanied by Shoto's own moans and groans at full volume - the privacy of his ensuite coming in clutch, as the two of you like to get noisy
The man holds you in place gently by your throat, his thumb caressing your cheek as he wipes away the tears his dick is forcing out of you
Shoto also loves to tease your dick, wanking you off while he pounds his cock deep inside of you - teasing your dickhead from time to time, his moaning chuckles echoing in the room as he watches you writhe in overstimulation
Once Shoto discovers that he has feelings for you, his ego becomes a real problem
The two-tone haired man wants everyone to know that you belong to him - whether you actually do or don't
Shoto wraps his arm around your waist and makes you sit on his lap whenever the unit is hanging out during free time
Or he'll fully tell other guys to fuck off of they're with you
He also fucking lives off of the looks other guys give him when he does things like that
Shoto just can't help it, he needs you to be his
Eijiro Kirishima
The redhead exudes masculinity - he really was made for the army
Kirishima is one of the most well-liked of your unit, almost second to you
The man is extroverted and helps out his peers when the need it, but best of all, he looks really fucking good in camo
Eijiro immediately took notice of you, he was one of the first to talk to you and eventually get with you
The redhead was quite fond of you, he liked how you cared about your role but you weren't too hard-core
You really liked Eijiro too, he didn't go to the gym much, despite staying so muscular somehow
He was very well built, his back and arms looking perfect 24/7
It was almost impossible for you two not to have sex at some point
It just so happened that the aforementioned point in time was very early
Kirishima also fucks like a beast - while also looking like a sex-god as he plows your brains out
The redhead likes to pull you to the side whenever he's horny and he drags you to a place where he can get it on with you
Kiri also knows how horny you get whenever he wears his tank top, so he most definitely wears it every time you two get it on
His arms and back just look so good in it, and he likes to watch you physically get turned on by his body - it seriously inflates his ego
Ejiro also fucking loves to dominate you - it's a common trend amongst military men
The redhead loves to force your body into positions where he holds all of the power
Full Nelson is his favourite by far, Eijiro loves showing off his strength by holding you up, forcing your body down on his thick cock with such ease
The muscular soldier also can't deny his affinity for being worshiped
Especially his smell, Kirishima gets so turned on when he makes you smell his sweaty body after training all day
He makes you sniff his musky balls and dick before sucking him off, forcing your nose into his forest of pubes for minutes at a time just forcing you to inhale his scent
Kirishima also likes making you ride him, watching you struggle to take his thick, veiny cock while you moan and whimper, dick twitching pathetically
Eijiro particularly likes to take control once you get into a rhythm and give your system a shock with a new pace, a rough pace
It then that Eijiro grabs your hair tightly and forces your head into his arm pit while he fucks up into your abused hole
Your head woozy from the muscular soldiers musky sweat and your body trembling from his cock plowing into your poor prostate
The man also doesn't keep quiet, so your whole barrack can hear Kirishima as he cums deep inside of you, claiming you as his own for just that little moment in time
However, once the Beast of a man has had his fill, he's incredible at aftercare
Kirishima goes out of his way to clean you up to a tee and then let's you rest on his warm, muscular body while he plays with your hair
Eijiro really enjoys the moments after sex, sometimes even more than the sex itself - the first time he thought time it immediately clicked that he liked you
Initially, Kiri is subtle about the fact that he likes you
He might be more physically affectionate when around other people
Or he may be more careful with you in bed even though you insist you can take more
However, once other guys start to show interest in you in more possessive ways, Kirishima feels the need to match their level
So his arm is around your waist whenever the redhead can get it there
And if any other soldier tries to make a subtle move on you, Kirishima finds that the best deterent is to awkwardly call out their behaviour
"Are you trying to flirt with, (y/n)? You think you have a chance?" In the most sincerely confused tone was Kiri's go-to and it sure did work
Sero Hanta
Sero was another one of the more social soldiers
He did his job when he had to, but an opportunity to slack was never not taken
The two of you were friends before anything happened between the two of you
You would only hangout with eachother, Chat and play shitty games - like normal friends
He knew you were a barrack bunny and he couldn't give less of a fuck, he would call out anyone bad mouthing you and would say "that's a slay from you though" when you would tell him about a recent fuck of yours
The two of you were nothing more than close friends, you two weren't afraid to shoe physical affection
So one time when you were sat in Sero's lap facing him, most people would of thought something was going on there - but there wasn't, not yet at least
It was when you fell asleep that the problem began
It was late at night after a huge training day, so while the other members of your unit played a game of cards, you were sleeping like you'd never slept before in Sero's lap
But once everyone else had gotten tired and gone to bed, you and Sero remained on the floor - your unconscious body snuggling into Sero's
Unfortunately for Sero, you move a LOT in your sleep, resulting in the poor man popping a bonner
Which would just not go away! Mainly due to your unconscious and accidental grinding against his dick
So, as Sero profusely blushed and tried to move you off of him, you woke up
And you felt Sero's raging bonner pushing against your ass
What happened afterwards was a blur but it went along the lines of you two rushing into the bathroom and going at it
Sero's very gentle with you - despite his slim-toned build
The man focuses on your pleasure, your moans and whines egging him on as he fucks up into you while playing with your nipples
The two of you don't fuck very often, but when you do it's earth-shattering and comfortable at the same time
It also isn't awkward to stay friends even though you two share such intimate moments, the real problem arises when Sero's platonic and sexual feelings for you become slightly romantic
His behaviour barely changes, but when you two are doing your usual clingy friendship activities, the toned soldier holds onto you just a little tighter
He also becomes obviously upset when you're hanging out with someone else
And during sex, Sero hugs you and kisses you while softly fucking into you - marking your neck with soft hickeys
He softens even more than usual when he starts to like you romantically - it's a nice change, contrasting your other peers who absolutely demolish you
Denki Kaminari
Unlike most other soldiers in your unit, Denki slacks at any given moment - even if he knows he'll get in shit for it
He's such a dumb yet lovable idiot, his shocked and scared expression slightly charming when he's getting an earful for dozing off on lookout
He's one of the more hormonal soldiers to say the least - and it doesn't help that he has quite the perverted side to him
So when Kaminari heard that your hobbies include getting fucked by every other member of your unit, he knew he needed to get a piece of you
The two of you were friendly to begin with, but the fact that you had a soft spot for goofy men who look fucking hot in uniform really helped speed your relationship along
All it took was for Denki to accidentally blurt out that he thought you were ridiculously attractive and that he didn't mind getting shouted at by superiors of it meant he got to sneak around with you - and with that you were ready to pretty much jump on his dick
If there's one thing Denki likes to do with you it's make out
The soldier will drop all his duties and sneak around the superiors just to hide away with you and hold you in his lap while the two of you kiss messily for half an hour - Denki dry hummping his clothed crotch up into the smooth curve of your ass
The blonde looks so, so good in uniform, his white tanktop highlighting his slim, muscular body while the camo cargoes just suit him so well
He doesn't like to be subtle about the fact that you and him fuck, so whenever it's just your unit with no superiors, he likes to rub it in the others faces that you and him are heading off to a supply shed
And holy shit is Kaminari good at what he does
After making out for God knows how long, the man will move you into his arms, Denki standing up while his tongue is still playing with yours
The blonde likes to show off how strong he is - despite being a slacker, he does train a lot
Denki holds you in his arms, your legs around his waist while he one handedly unbuckles his cargos and pulls yours down the curve of your ass
Kaminari certainly shows off his strength when he moves you up and down on his veiny dick with such ease, hitting your prostate with every thrust while you hold onto his broad shoulders tightly
Being kind of a perv, the blonde fucking loves watching you drool and blush from the size of his dick, your fists tightening to hold Kaminari closer and your eyes being forced to look up from the pressure and pleasure his dick was forcing onto your ass
It's only when your chief loudly bangs on the door of the shed that you're fucking in that Kaminari takes his eyes off of your fucked out face and slows his pace down
"Kaminari! What's taking you so long?" The chief shouts
Denki quickly moves his hand to your mouth, his rough palm keeping all of your moans from escaping
"S-SORRY SIR! C-CUUUMING NOW!" The blonde shouts as his pace quickens, your walls clenching against Kaminari's thick dick so tightly that he actually starts cumming
You can hear your superior walk away faintly, the sound of his steps mainly blocked by Denki's whimpering and grunting in your ear as his cum seeps out of your cock-filled hole
"Sorry I couldn't help myself... You're just toooo warm and good~"
Now while Denki may be very sex-brained, he struggles to separate sex from romance - so he falls for you pretty quickly
He's one of the only members of your unit to loudly state that they like you
Most of his peers make fun of him for saying things like
"I can't wait to leave here and date, (y/n)..."
Your peers telling the blonde that you would never settle for him in a million years
But Denki couldn't care less about what they say - he's ups his game by being super sappy and clingy around you, but you don't mind exactly; you can't deny that you like the attention
The rest of your barrack is fucking fuming that Denki gets to do shit like that with you, so most of them follow suit and try to one-up eachother - all thanks to Denki
Keigo Takami (Hawks)
Keigo is one of the older members of your unit - he's a 30 year old surrounded by mainly 24-26 year olds
But he's got a young spirit, so he fits in exceptionally well
And fucking hell does he fit into the army well as well - he's another one of the guys which was made for the military
The blonde constantly works out and takes his role very seriously - his body reflects that on so many levels
His arms and his back are insane, and this legs are so built it's crazy
Keigo had noticed you immediately, the man knew he was bi and couldn't turn down releasing some stress so the two of you were on eachother almost straight away
Being older, Keigo has so much more experience, so you've always liked being with him - whether you two were spending time together or he was fucking the daylights out of you
The blonde soldier was charismatic and affectionate but not in an over the top way - which got you riled up all the more
He would have one of his veiny hands on your waist or shoulders all the time, he'd smirk at you while looking down into your eyes with his arms crossed - the man was incredibly attractive to say the least
When hanging out with other members of your unit, Keigo loves to exert dominance by having you on his lap, an arm around you waist and his head resting on your shoulder - smugly grinning when the others give him a jealous glare
And when he wants to let you know he wants you cumming on his dick, all Keigo does is gently grind into you - but if you're already in bed, the tall blonde bend over you and kiss your neck slowly
Keigo would then leave to the bathroom, chuckling to himself when he hears your hurried footsteps behind him
The man fucks like an animal in heat
He likes to strip you naked but keep himself fully clothed in his casual uniform, bending you over on the ground as he plays with your exposed hole
"So fucking tight, even with all the dick you take, sweetheart" Keigo compliments you as he smacks your ass, hard
He likes to push on the small of your back as he lines his hard, veiny, uncut dick with your entrance - forcing your back to arch perfectly for him
Keigo likes to start slow with you, sinking his cock all the way inside of your tight walls and immediately starting to thrust into you slowly
Your breathy moans echo in the bathroom while Hawks' rugged moans grace your ears
The muscular blonde then likes to pick up the pace, fucking you rougher and harder by the second until your a drooling, moaning mess
He also moans really loudly, his masculine groans filling your ears along with sadistic chuckles and laughs from the immense pleasure Keigo is feeling from your tight ass and watching you look so whorish
He fucks you into the ground, his thick dick spliting you open while your dick dangles between your legs, leaking precum constantly
As Keigo starts to lose himself in the pleasure of fucking you, he moves his bare foot onto your head, pushing your head harder against the ground as his body shifts to get his dick into you deeper
The blonde laughs and moans as his veiny hands grip onto your waist, pulling you hard onto his dick
The usual slapping sound of sex is muffled by Keigo's cargoes and his tanktop is now see-through as its drenched in his sweat
The older man's pace speeds up even more when he cam feel you tighten, your moans raising in pitch as your dick twtiches in pleasure
By the time your loud, slutty moans are registered by Keigo, he's balls deep in your ass shooting his hot, thick cum deep inside of you - rutting his hips against your ass, therefore rubbing his tip even more into your prostate, overstimulsting you just enough so that it's still pleasurable
Once the blonde soldier pulls out of you with the wet slurp of his cum-covered dick, Keigo likes to watch his thick cum drip down your thighs and onto the floor
He admires his work for a bit and then cleans you up
Keigo is extremely good at aftercare - even military men need to be taken care of!
The two of you lay on eachother and tiredly chat about life - during this, Keigo likes to roll his fingers over your body, admiring you
He never thought he'd fall for you - Keigo always saw himself as above the other, more mature, he thought he could handle a no-strings relationship
But seeing you with others, knowing that other men get to experience the heaven that is being around you and being inside fo you - it really pisses Keigo off
The man, just like most of the other members of your unit has fallen for the barrack bunny - he becomes slightly more possessive than he already was
But again you don't mind, it may make you seem like a bad person, but the attention is a nice bonus on top of the good dicking down you get everyday
386 notes · View notes
beautifulsenpai · 1 day
Note
..question. what if bakugo had a crush on a short beefy mechanic with a happy trail..? this definitely hasn't been plaguing my mind since last night.
hmm…bakugo would have a crush on the short hunky mechanic that was located near u.a! i dont know how they became friends, but it just…happen! ^^ he would visit you every time after school, bragging about himself, and he would swell up with pride when he see your eyes shine with admiration.
he would stay put in the mechanic shop with you, he argues with you that he’s not doing it because you’re both friend, he just wanted too! he would watch you fix cars without your shirt, making your body glisten with sweat. watching you flex your body when fixing cars would turn bakugo on, and he would embarrassingly hide his bulge from his pants.
one of his favorites times when you’re fixing a car when you would go under the car, you would be on your back with your head, and arms were hidden by the car while your body was on full display. bakugo would sit on top of a counter while he watched you work, well more like your body.
the sweat glistening your chest, and the dirt marking your skin makes it even hotter. oh, how badly bakugo just wanted to grab your pecs, play with them, twist and bite your nipples. when he gets back home, and rest, he would have wet dreams of you, fucking you and marking your chest with his cum!
Tumblr media
109 notes · View notes
dabisbratz · 1 year
Text
been fantasizin! — izuku midoriya x male reader
w.c: 2.1k
WARNING: heat cycles, bunny quirk, ear-pulling, creampie (x2), toy use, overstimulation, manhandling, dacryphilia, soft dom!izuku, praise, kissing, drool/spit, body worship, dirty talk, breeding mention, use of the word “pussy” as a synonym for (ass)hole, amab reader
“Honey?” There’s a soft click of the front door as it unlocks, a tall pro-hero setting foot inside with a few grocery bags in hand. The penthouse is homely, not at all too large for it’s two inhabitants, with a nicely decorated living room and fully applianced kitchen. The kitchen island outlooks the living-room, and the living-room outlooks the balcony, with a pretty, twinkling view of Musutafu’s bustling city. Izuku couldn’t have asked for a better home, a better boyfriend, a better life. He fought hard for it, anyway. “I’m back!”
The home is draped in domesticity, well lived in with a few misplaced remotes and a blanket scattered across the pleather couch.
He can’t find you anywhere, not in the kitchen making a snack, not hiding behind the couch, with floppy ears that match your hair and give you away. Not on the balcony, where you like to lean too far out for your viewing pleasure and his dismay. He frowns, freckled cheeks puffed out in a pout and eyes dimly lit. It’s unusual for his bunny to stay where he is, typically he waits by the door for his boyfriend's return, ears bouncing excitedly the second the door is unlocked. There’s only really one place you could be, but he has a few things to put away first.
The groceries end up where they shouldn’t be, apples in the freezer and thinly cut beef stacked inside the fridge, but Midoriya just can’t focus when his day has been knocked off its path like this. He slams the fridge door much harder than intended, the stainless steel shaking in his grasp and nearly threatening to fall. It doesn’t, but the display almost has Izuku panicking again, sights set on two things at one.
So he makes his way to the bedroom.
It’s shared between the two of you, a large, soft, and warm mattress with even softer blankets (you picked them out), and some nice blackout curtains when city lights ended up too overwhelming. The door creaks quietly, nothing compared to the sound that doesn’t seem to be quieting down any time soon.
You’re grinding your cock down against the midsized plushie Izuku had won you on one of your first dates back in highschool, ruining the soft fur with your precum. It must be because it smells just like him, having previously been wearing one of his hoodies, and you’d referred to the bear as Izuku Jr. It’s wet and sticky, almost like the air in the room, which fills with desperate moans as your hips rock back and forth against the plush. Izuku can see the bounce of your ass as you rock it back against a silicone toy, slippery with lube and dribbling onto the bed. He frowns.
Your heat cycle must have started while he was away. His poor boy, his poor baby, was left alone to fend for himself, fucking himself against nothing but a fake for the last few hours. Your pretty thighs must be aching and tired by now, on fire and sore, wrapped around a teddy bear when it could’ve been him. Izuku sighs, shedding himself of his jacket before rolling up his sleeves, and slowly padding over to the bed.
He’s careful not to tear you away, you get very territorial of your ‘nest’, instead tracing his fingertips up your calves, the back of your thighs, the swell of your ass. It’s only when he gives a sharp squeeze to your backside do you notice his presence. Your big ears twitch, swaying along as your head whips back to finally register the man beside you. You can’t say much, throat hoarse and tired from cries that fell on deaf ears, but the look on your face is enough for Izuku to scoop you up and cup your face.
“Don’t stop ‘cause of me,” He whispers against your lips, gently scraping his nails behind your ears. You keen against his touch, chasing his palm until his freckled thumb is slipped into your mouth. You can feel a scar that runs across his thumb, similar to the veins in his dick. “Cockdumb bunny, you’re so pretty like this. How’d this happen, sweetpea?”
You moan around his thumb, suckling and rutting your hips against his clothed thigh, which is already starting to collect sticky stains of pre. There’s a small tug on your ear, hard enough to get your lips to pop off his finger until you’re looking up at him, eyes sparkly and wet. Izuku wipes your drying tears with his big hands, then tugs harder. “I know, too much thinking gets you riled up. Just need an answer, honey, then we can take care of your needy hole.”
‘Zuku’s hands are always better. When your brain isn’t fully online he’s there, all smiles and big hands to touch you just right. He slides his hands up your torso, actively avoiding your cock as he smears the cum on your bellybutton up to your chest, massages it into your hard nipples while you tremble in his hands. You fist the sleeves of his shirt, right where the neckline meets shoulder, pulling him in closer until his breath ghosts i’ve your nipples. You can’t take the lingering touches, you need something constant. Something intense.
But instead you whine, too needy to form any actual complete sentences or thoughts.
“Thought of— wanna be good. Need— M’a good boy. ‘Zuku. Need you.” It’s more jumbled than anything, a pathetic noise leaving your body as he pushes you back down against your plush, dildo discarded somewhere by the headboard. Such a silly thing, you got too far in your head and really thought some silicone was good enough to satiate your needs.
“Just stayed sweet for me? Thought about the stretch of my cock inside you— your mouth, your ass?” Midoriya responds absentmindedly, strong jaw clenched as he lifts you up by the hips, keeping you bent over until your face is smashed into the sheets, bunny ears alert and twitching as he rubs them soothingly. He tuts, sliding his hands down to your ass and spreading the thick cheeks apart wide. He’s met with your overstimulated hole, sloppy and needy as it winks up at him. “Or is this a cunt, honey? Made for breeding? It already looks like you’re gushing.”
He’s partly grateful you’re not positioned to face him, a sharp shade of red dusting his matured cheeks as you nod and press your ass down into his palms. Your thighs are sticky and soaked with lube, must’ve been leaking out of you since you’d gotten up to greet him. Your voice sounds whiny and high, ears bouncing with each downward thrust you make, bouncing against his hands like you’re trying to fuck yourself on his cock, despite it not being out yet.
“ ‘Zuku, ‘Zuku, ‘Zuku,” It’s a mantra of sorts, loud and rushing blood straight down south to Izuku’s stiff cock. You can’t think of anything but him, the stretch of your entrance as he pushes himself impossibly deep into your guts, the feeling of his hand supporting your tummy so he can feel himself sliding in and out of you, the praise that leaves his lips when he’s shooting a load into you, keeping you still on his dick until it finally stops spurting. “Ohh.”
“I think it is, baby,” Izuku purrs, letting you grind against his cock for contact when he removes the warmth of his hands, undoing his fly to free himself from his boxers. He’ll start off quick for now, just to get you coherent again, then fuck you nice and slow, how you deserve it, once you’ve had a load to nurse. He lines himself up quickly, tracing your entrance with the fat head of his dick. “All mine, right? Barely fits, even after all that training you’ve been doing. C’mere, honey. Feel.”
His other hand takes yours to trail it down your hips and past your ass, dipping into the crevice of your ass until your fingertips are pressed against your hole, dipping into the entrance as his cock is slapped against it. He’s right, it barely fits, fat and curved perfectly, you shed a few tears when he slips inside, your hole stretching around his length and swallowing him up despite the intrusion.
“Just gotta fuck it right, don’t I, pretty? Gotta use it nice and sweet, get you all pliant and dizzy just how you like it,” You’re nodding, lips parted and panting loudly against the sheets, drooling onto them and ultimately getting it all over your cheek, but you don’t care. Izuku’s cock is right there, inches away from being inside you, from breeding you and using you like you deserve.
“Did you know you have a really pretty hole, baby? Just as cute as your face!”
He sounds lewd, but it’s genuine. His dimpled smile is enough to tell you that, you can hear it in his voice, even if it’s a little ragged and breathless. He’s rambling again, something about pumping you full until you can’t do anything but twitch against the mattress, but it doesn’t matter. Not when his cock is pushing inside you, not when your own is starting to spurt out rope after rope of cum once he’s inside.
Your hole convulses around him, sucking him in deeper and deeper until it’s clenching around the base of his cock, his curly, dark pubes peeking out from his pants and resting against your ass. He uses you like a toy, rocks you up and down while you ride the wave of your millionth orgasm tonight, tongue rolled out of your mouth and ears droopy against your cheeks. Your pants rival the sound of his balls against your ass, a harsh smacking sound as he increases the speed of his strokes, groaning when you claw at the sheets for support.
“Fuck, you’ll take all my cum, won't you? Yeah, think it'll catch? All this hot, sticky cum inside you?”
Your ass crashes against him, shining under the dimly lit bedside lamp. Bunnies do what they do best, bouncing on and off his cock until you’re delirious, tears streaming down your handsome face. Izuku barely needs to touch your cock, instead meeting your bounces half way while he grabs your wrists, bending them behind your back for leverage. You sob, a pathetic, loud noise that has Izuku groaning soon after, and he knows you’re crying now.
Midoriya shoots deep inside you, thick, creamy ropes of cum pooling inside you just to seep out your puffy, abused hole. It spills over the sides of his cock, dropping down your thighs and your toes curl, a happy sound leaving your throat since you’re finally full.
But Izuku wants one more, just for safekeeping.
He spoons up the cum with his fingers, pushing it back into your hole alongside his sensitive cock, his head falling forward as he melts into you. He gets it now, the neediness, he wants to fuck you full, feel you tighten and squeeze down on his cock because you can’t take it, praise you for being such a good, warm hole for him and his big dick. He’s just as desperate as you, fucking the cum deeper against that sensitive bundle of nerves that makes you lose your voice.
“Say thank you, bunny. Aren’t you grateful for my cock? My cum inside you like you’ve always wanted? Fuck, I love this hole. Don’t forget your manners, baby.”
You’re responding before you can process the question, letting him manhandle you up and down on his cock, your overstimulated hole struggling to keep up with his pace. You'd fall flat on your face if it weren’t for his supportive hand, spread on your tummy and pressing into that delicious bump of his cock every time it fucks up into you.
“Th—ank you, thank you, ‘Zuku, love your cum n’my bunnyboy pussy.” And— oh, he never gets used to it, your sweet voice repeating his words with the promise of a few pats to the head, a scratch behind the ear, a kiss to the forehead. Izuku’s emerald eyes roll back in his head, his thrusts sloppy and unsteady as his balls tighten.
He’s cumming again before he knows it, the familiar clamp of your hole making his hips stutter as you cum too, collecting glob after glob of his cum inside you, feeling it stick to your gooey walls.
“Stay— stay ‘nside.” Your words are slurred, alert bunny ears now limp and tired as you lick your lips, shimmying down on Izuku’s spent cock. There’s a slight bias behind you, but the man doesn’t protest, instead grabbing you by the hips to resettle into a comfortable, spooning position, his hot skin already cooling by the second.
He’ll change later, maybe fuck you against the shower door if you can get up, but for now he’s content with holding you, even if his clothes are sticky and damp. His arm is behind your head, earning a small nuzzle as you sigh into his forearm.
If there’s one thing he’s sure of, it’s his love for you.
3K notes · View notes
reallyromealone · 4 days
Note
hello !! can i request dad hawks with toddler son that has a cat quirk and keeps trying to hunt him :•0 also i really like your fics !! i always get really excited when you post !! have a good day/night !!
Title: little hunter
Fandom: my hero Academia
Pairing: hawks + reader
Warnings: child reader, platonic, fluff, dad hawks
Notes:
🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️
He was small now, he could absolutely punt the little guy if need be.
Hawks watched as his son tried being sneaky, trying to hunt him as his tail swished.
This was a pivotal point in his development, Hawks remembered when he did similar things as his quirk and human aspects developed and evened out.
He knew he would mostly grow out of it but for now?
He has to keep his little one occupied.
Hawks used one of his tails to distract his son, letting him chase it around his office so that he would stop swatting his ankles and he could finish his work, his baby sure was a little genocidal maniac-- well the cat aspect was.
He wasn't allowed at the zoo for a while...
"Ow!" He looked down to see his son nibbling on his wing and sighed, lifting the boy up "hello, kitten" he said to the tot who chewed on his own hand and hawks took it out before popping a pacifier in his mouth "you hungry? You're more of an ankle biter than usual" he teased the babe who let him carry him around "how about we order some chicken? You want chicken my little hunter?" The boy began bouncing happily "iken!" He said excitedly and hawks grinned before having his assistant get some for them.
The two sat at the coffee table so (name) could stand and enjoy it while standing, a way he preferred eating and Hawks wasn't about to judge it as the boy ate his popcorn chicken with a lazy swish of his tail.
The hunter was satiated.
For now.
442 notes · View notes
jaymadii · 9 months
Text
BAKUGO HEAT HEADCANNONS [O!Bakugo Katsuki x A!Male Reader]
Tumblr media
This man is on TOP of his heat schedule
When he’s sees his date is fast approaching he begins to prepare - bottled water, meal prep, lube, alpha
You don’t have a choice on whether or not your gonna spend his heat with him when you start dating
He has to lay his claim before another omega tried to woo you
He has a two bedroom apartment so he can use the second bedroom as a heat room
That baby is locked at all times because of noisy guests (Denki)
You were taken back the first time you walked in there
Your clothes - everywhere
Bakugo is a laundry thief
You didn’t get to do much looking around at first because you had a horny omega purring in your neck and grinding on your thigh
During a rest period you get to take it all in though
Huge nest
HUGE
Like it takes up the whole room
The floor is lined with a big mattress and soft blankets and pillows are piled in a circular formation
Everything was black or grey
During his heat Bakugo is clingy af
Denies later
But the moment you make a move to get out of the nest a distressed cry is heard from behind you before you feel your omega’s hands stroking any part he can get to
Trying to lure you back in
It works
He clings to your chest while he sleeps, head tucked into the crook of your neck while you stroke his hair
If you ever wanna hear Bakugo purr, just whisper sweet things into his ear about why he’s better than any other omega
About how he’s the only omega you would ever love
LOVES to ride you during his heat
Makes him feel in control
Also loves to leave bruises and bites all over you
He wants your co-workers to know why you had to take a week off
He will cry if you deny him a orgasm for too long
Tears and snot running down his face as he begs for you to keep touching him
Will only stop crying after you give him what he wants and then some
Heat sex is much sweeter than regular sex with Bakugo
Bakugo’s brain is telling him to give you a reason to mark him - the mate him - to breed him
Bakugo runs your hand over his belly when your inside him - wanting for you to feel the bulge you made
He loves to have his nipples teased
Sometimes you think he could cum from that alone
The inhuman squeals that come out of him when your mouth attaches to a nub is a addicting sound
Hates it when you pay only attention to his cock
He’ll be thrusting in your mouth frustrated and crying that he can’t cum
Immediately loses all his composure when you start fingering him
You love to eat him out - love to have him sit on your face
Bakugo’s legs shake so bad as he tries to hold himself up for you
You constantly pull him down so your tongue can go deeper
On the occasion that you do leave to room during his heat - to eat or bathe
Bakugo bends himself over the counter in the kitchen to entice you to fuck him more
When you do bathe - you bathe together
You shampoo Bakugo’s hair for him as he lays against your chest in the tub
You wash him with body wash - very throughly
You’re afraid of the floor getting water damage with all the sloshing that happens
Bakugo doesn’t wear clothes during his heat - unless it’s one of your shirts or shorts
Can’t stand not having your scent on him constantly
1K notes · View notes
mackjlee9 · 1 year
Text
I can't write daddy kink anymore y'all 😕
Takami Keigo (Hawks) x Top!Male!Reader [Smut]
Warning; praising, overstimulation, dumbification, daddy kink, rimming.
Masterlist.
Boku no Hero Academia.
Request by Nesrin_Moorse on Wattpad.
Keigo had given (M/n) one of his feathers on their first anniversary as a necklace. An easier way to make sure his boyfriend was always safe.
Out at work while simply patrolling, he could feel the vibrations of (M/n)'s chest when he laughed or spoke, feel the temperature of his body rising or lowering. On occasions, (M/n) would gently touch the red feather hanging around his neck, dangling on his chest, and Keigo knew his boyfriend missed him.
And now, after a long week of hero work, Keigo had earned a few days off, flying all the way to (M/n)'s apartment to spend some well-deserved quality time with him.
They walked around for a while, a few fans of the pro-hero asking for pictures and autographs, which he gladly gave while making sure it wasn't upsetting (M/n), but he was smiling at the sight of little kids jumping around him, excited about meeting their favorite hero. They watched a movie, a rom-com that was funny enough, and entertaining enough for them to watch it all the way through.
After the movie, they had dinner at a restaurant, nothing too fancy but not too casual either. And on their way back to (M/n)'s apartment, they bought an ice cream each, talking and laughing all the while.
It was a fun date, a fun day. It was good.
Already back in the coziness of the place, (M/n) couldn't help himself.
His hands placed themselves on Keigo's hips, pulling him flush against his body as he pressed their lips together, kissing him passionately, a deep kiss that left Keigo flustered, such a dark blush coloring his face. (M/n) smirked at him and took a step back, leaving him standing by the front door while he walked to his room.
//////
Laying in bed peacefully, (M/n) heard the water of the shower hitting the floor of the bathroom. Keigo let out a deep sigh as the hot water fell on his skin, dripping down his tired and tense body, relaxing for the first time in that week.
(M/n) remembered he had to take his necklace off, but before he did it, he held it in his hand. A thought flashed across his mind, and he had to hold back a smirk, and he decided to test his theory.
Slowly moving his thumb across it, (M/n) gently stroked Keigo's feather.
The blond male felt it, startling him as it caught him off guard, but he ignored it. Well, until it started to become unbearable.
(M/n) was putting more pressure on the palm-size feather in his hand, and another crazy thought plagued his mind. He couldn't stop himself from licking it, wetting it whole as he dragged his tongue on every inch of the feather.
Keigo's legs trembled, holding himself up with the wall, his wings shuddering as his knees gave out, ending up on the shower floor while the water kept falling on him. His face was flushed, his eyes clouded and teary from lust. He couldn't take it.
While feeling (M/n) lips leaving open-mouth kisses and small licks all over his feather, he stood up with wobbly legs, closing the water and stumbling out of the shower. His body was shaking, his hard cock dripping pre-cum while he tried to collect himself at least a little bit.
There was no point. (M/n) wasn't stopping.
With trembling hands, he reached for his bathrobe and struggled to put it on, he needed something that could sort of ground him, that could cover his overly sensitive body.
"You... need to s-stop that," he stuttered out, and (M/n) simply smirked, pressing again on the base of the feather. He observed with a glint in his eyes how Keigo squirmed and stumbled back, resting against the wall behind him.
"You don't like this, hm?" (M/n) hummed, a teasing tone in his voice, but the blond male silently rubbed his thighs together before responding.
"I like it... t-too much," the smirk on (M/n)'s face grew, and his fingers continued caressing Keigo's feather in his hand, taking in every reaction from him, watching him cry out and slide down the wall until he was sitting on the floor.
"Come here," Keigo took a deep breath before crawling with great difficulty toward (M/n), who had moved to sit on the edge of the bed.
His arms trembled, threatening to give out under his weight, "Please, daddy..." Oh~, he used the magic word. (M/n) simply patted his lap and Keigo pressed the side of his face on (M/n)'s inner thigh.
"Please what?" Keigo whined at the feeling of his cock getting wet because of all the pre-cum he has been leaking.
"Don't... play with my f-feather, is... too much," (M/n) debated with himself whether he should obey Keigo's words, but in the end he did, even if he was enjoying the sight of his golden eyes filled with tears and silently pleading for mercy.
"Alright, I'll leave it alone," Keigo showed (M/n) a smile, watching him dangle his feather in front of him, but (M/n)'s eyes seemed to be shining with something different now, "Get on the bed, all fours."
//////
Seemingly nonstop, loud, high-pitched moans and whimpers left past Keigo's lips at each lap of (M/n)'s tongue inside him, his hands gripping tightly onto the bedsheets, his wings shuddering and splashing a bit of water around.
"You take my tongue so good, Keigo," (M/n)'s hands gripped onto the blond's cheeks, spreading them open and observing his hole twitching, needing something- anything, inside it again, "You cum so much from just my mouth, you're such a good boy, aren't you?" Keigo nodded frantically, trying to move his hips back toward (M/n)'s face, "Oh, what an impatient little boy~, daddy is gonna give you something better now."
Keigo whined as he swayed his hips, whining against the pillow while almost crying from how impatient he was. He wanted something inside him. (M/n)'s fingers, tongue, cock, anything that could help him satisfy that burning hot feeling on his lower abdomen, that feeling that made his cock twitch and drip with cum.
He felt (M/n)'s hands holding him by his hips and he was close to releasing a 'yes, please~' when he felt the wet tip of (M/n)'s cock pushing past his wet and tight muscle walls.
Holding his breath for a moment, Keigo let out a loud whine that closely resembled a thank you, his breath coming out ragged as he whined like a little bitch in heat.
"Daddy, daddy... daddy, d-daddy~," he repeated over and over again, getting louder and higher every time he said it, "C-cum... cumming~" he mumbled, his voice muffled by the pillow.
(M/n) kept fucking his rough through his orgasm, pulling the sheets because of how sensitive his body felt.
"In-inside... cum inside m-me, daddy..." Keigo muttered between ragged breaths, his mind going numb because of the pleasure, but catching a glance at his necklace, (M/n) decided to drive Keigo absolutely...
Fucking...
Crazy.
Reaching for the feather attached to the silver chain, (M/n) wrapped his lips around it, swirling his tongue around it as he took it in his mouth. Safe to say is... the reactions from Keigo were almost otherworldly.
His cock shook with every orgasm he had, squirting all over the sheets, his eyes rolling back as his arms and legs gave out. His body was shaking and he couldn't hold himself up anymore, so he mindlessly let (M/n) keep him up by holding onto his hips, as if he was only using his body for his pleasure only.
The thought of being used as nothing else but a doll made Keigo's body tremble, drool dripping down the corner of his mouth and wetting the pillow.
His mind turned dumb and his body was being used by his boyfriend...
"Fuck me, daddy~!" Was the only thing he managed to let out before completely giving in to the pleasure (M/n) brought to his body.
2K notes · View notes
sooniebby · 11 months
Note
Could I request a smut drabble or nsft about yandere Shinsou Hitoshi with a very shy, socially awkward, and / or reader who has social anxiety? Who also has a crush on him? (Maybe omegaverse where reader is an omega and accidentally starts a mating chase? I did take inspo from you, lol)
Like, they can't just go talk to him? What if he thinks they're weird? What if he thinks you're creepy? And he just has to go make sure they know that they're his. Maybe he has to kill a person subtly courting reader infront of them? (Reader is willing)
(Kinks: Size kink, marking, maybe breeding kink, control kink(like not being controlled by his quirk but he just adores being in control) Anything else is up to you, lol)
Tumblr media
ఌ 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈
꧁ 𝙃𝙞𝙩𝙤𝙨𝙝𝙞 𝙭 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂
Smut 𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙗𝙗𝙡𝙚! ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
The dead body right next to you should’ve bothered you. But it didn’t matter really. Not with Hitoshi’s constant thrusts into your tight heat. His blood covered hand trailed all over your body, covering it with the victims blood.
You dug your fingers into the soil beneath you, body shaking forward with each thrust. Hitoshi was relentless. He was angry. Angry that you were being courted by an alpha that wasn’t him.
But it was no longer a problem anymore.
A bite to your neck caused you to mewl, dripping more slick as he left bites all over your neck. He inched close to your scent gland before moving away, teasing you with the idea of being claimed.
A whine left your lips but you couldn’t really speak. His scent was muddling your head. You couldn’t think straight with his cock constantly hitting your prostate dead on. Each thrust caused you to moan in pleasure.
You worried about someone seeing you in such position. On your knees with your ass in the air as Hitoshi fucked you like a slut. Sure most people would be scared about the dead body but what about your dignity?
Hitoshi’s hands grasped your waist and moved to sit down on the ground. You groaned at the sudden movement wondering what he was doing before he easily lifted you up. His cock almost slipped out of your slick heat until he brought you back down.
You cried out, gripping at his pants as he began to use you like a fleshlight. Your inner omega purred at this. Being used by an alpha, especially an alpha you liked, was gratifying.
No noises left Hitoshi. Only you were screaming and moaning from pleasure. You clenched down on his cock, feeling your own cock twitch before cumming. But Hitoshi didn’t stop.
No, he picked up his pace. Now he wasn’t just moving you up and down, he was actually thrusting upward. You cried out. The feeling of overstimulation and the harsher thrusts was heaven.
One of Hitoshi’s hands moved from your waist and began to trace your stomach. “How many can I fit inside?” He muttered.
You tried to speak but only whimpers left your lips. He didn’t stop his thrusting, seemingly enjoying the gasps that left your lips each time you tried to talk.
“(Name), how much do you think you can give me?”
Hitoshi grabbed your dejected cock and began to slowly bring it back to life. You leaned your head back on his shoulder, bucking up into his hand.
You opened your mouth to speak only to hear the sound of someone walking past. Closing your mouth, you fearfully waited for them to walk last.
It was dark, being nighttime and all, so maybe they wouldn’t be able to see you. The trees helped to cover you as well. As long as Hitoshi stopped his thrusting, you can hold in your moans….
But he didn’t.
He got faster. The sound of skin slapping and the squelching of slick increased as you tried desperately to keep your voice in check. But that wasn’t what Hitoshi wanted.
Letting go of your cock, he moved his hand down to your slick covered hole. His thrusting slowed down a bit as he slipped in not one, but three fingers inside along with his cock. You cried at that stretching.
You were shocked you could handle this much during your first time. But it must’ve just been omega luck or something. Paired with his inconsistent thrusts—Hitoshi’s fingers either stretched you or attacked your prostate.
His fingers dragged across it, rubbing it to gain any sort of reaction from you. You tried hard to not scream. The person could still be there. Public sex was illegal.
So was murder but you didn’t care about that.
Hitoshi’s fingers were large. Much larger than your own fingers whenever you fingered yourself. It pushed more pressure on your prostate, even more than his cock.
“Let them hear you.”
You shook your head.
He stops. He ducking stopped. You whine at the loss, clenching around his cock. Hitoshi simply hummed as he pressed a kiss on your neck. He caught a glimpse of the person walking past them.
They had already left. But you didn’t know that. A smirk appeared on his lips.
“Are you not my omega? How can you be my omega and but not make your alpha happy?” He knew that would get to you. He knew you so well.
You frowned. Of course you wanted him to be happy. A whine left your lips as you tried to get him to start his thrusting.
“C’mon, do this for me, (Name). Make your alpha happy.”
“Okay…” you whispered.
And that was all Hitoshi needed as he harshly thrusted upward, shaking you suddenly. This time you didn’t try to stop your cries. This time, you even began to move yourself, riding Hitoshi’s cock like your life depended on it.
The words leaving your mouth was of you pleading for him to mate you. But even if you didn’t ask, Hitoshi would’ve done so. It didn’t take long for you both to reach your high.
His gripped your waist, holding you close as he thrusted in as deep as he could. He reached down and bit at your scent gland as he knotted you, locking you two together for at least an hour.
You cried out, cumming yourself as you clenched down around his cock. His knot swelled right up against your prostate—causing you to moan each time it released another batch of cum inside of you.
You were officially his. You couldn’t help the sigh of relief that left you. Guess you didn’t have to confess first after all.
Although…
What should you guys do about the dead body?
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
Lit, this was fun! Hope this was what you wanted! (Also thank you so much for being detailed with the request!!)
Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @nakedtoasterr @mello-life69 @kiiyoooo @chill-guy-but-cooler
(Ask to be added to the tag list/you’ll be tagged in every fic I post)
1K notes · View notes
myballsyourballs · 1 year
Note
Bakugo, Todoroki, and Midoriya with recovery girls grandson? They get injured and we kiss them to make em feel better. (:
a healthy recovery!
Tumblr media
bakugo, todoroki and midoriya (seperate) x m! reader
genre: fluffy drabbles
notes: i enjoyed writing this! thanks for the req
masterlist | make a request
Tumblr media Tumblr media
bakugo !
"Bakugo, seriously. Just let me--"
"Fuck off! I'm not letting your gross lips kiss me!" Bakugo is blushing furiously, limping around with a surprising amount of speed given his sprained ankle.
"Stop acting like such a child!"
"FUCK YOU!"
You quickly dart around the bed he's hiding behind, grabbing him by the nape of his neck and smashing your lips against his cheek. You activate your quirk quickly, and then pull back just as fast. "See, that wasn't so bad!"
Bakugo doesn't answer. In fact, he looks like he didn't even register your words. His face is completely red, but his features are contorted into the most furious scowl you've seen on him yet.
"Woah, okay... look, I'm just doing my job, okay? Please don't--"
"Bye."
Bakugo stomps off on his now healed ankle, hands shoved deep into his pockets. Once the door is slammed behind him, you swear you hear him mutter a "holy fucking shit holy shit oh my god holy shit"
...Nah, you're probably imagining things.
Tumblr media
todoroki !
"You... have to kiss me?" Todoroki frowns at the burn on his arm.
"Yes. As I said, I'm Recovery Girl's grandson."
"She... has a grandson?"
"...Yes," you furrow your brows, watching as Todoroki stares at you with a perplexed yet intrigued expression. "Please just let me kiss you now."
He nods, and leans in with his eyes closed and lips puckered. Aiming for your lips.
"Woah, now!" quickly, you place a hand on his mouth. He opens his eyes, startled. "Take me out to dinner first. I meant on your cheek. Or your hand, or something."
"Oh."
"Yeah, oh."
You feel kinda bad. The poor guy averts his eyes completely, the tips of his ears red and his head lowered. He raises his hand towards you, and you quickly grasp it and kiss him on the back of his hand.
Mesmerised, Todoroki watches as his burn slowly recedes until his skin is smooth and free of blemishes. "...Thank you."
"Not a problem!"
Silence, for a moment. You wonder why he hasn't left yet.
"Can I take you out to dinner?"
Tumblr media
midoriya !
"Is your quirk an exact replica of Recovery Girl's?"
"Mine doesn't make you as tired."
"Really? How does that work? Does it use your stamina instead of the stamina of person you're healing? Or does it drain something else from someone? Let's say, their thirst? Maybe hunger? What about--"
"Midoriya," you sigh. He stops muttering. "I'm here to heal you. I'm happy to answer your questions, but you are getting blood all over the floor."
He looks down.
There's... a bit of a puddle. Not a big one, but still... a puddle.
"Give me your hand," you murmur, holding out your own hand. He obliges, blushing heavily when you gently grasp his. Bringing it up to your mouth, you kiss Midoriya's hand softly -- the large cut on his arm fading into pale, freckled skin.
"Perfect," you drop his hand. "Are you feeling better?"
He nods enthusiastically, inspecting his arm with interest. Midoriya watches intently as you walk over to the cupboards and grab a towel to mop up the mess on the floor. He stays silent for a minute or two, just watching quietly. Once you finish, he speaks once more.
"...Can I ask you questions now?"
2K notes · View notes
slutfactory · 10 months
Text
: ̗̀➛ shouta aizawa thirst !
[cw// m!reader, heavily implied erasermic, adultery, slutty aizawa.]
Tumblr media
alright, so aizawa being a cheating bastard—going from spur of the moment, to when/wherever possible.
it wasn't aizawa's intention at first, but after having sex with you for the first time, he felt.. dissatisfied with his husband's performance. now, it wasn't that hizashi was bad in bed, it was just that he was too vanilla for shouta's (newfound) tastes. after experiencing being fucked like a cheap whore, he found himself wanting more.
hizashi, who had no knowledge of this, asked if you could come over to fix the washing machine while he went out to do god knows what, and that shouta would let you in.
you of course fixed the appliance with relative ease, but before you left, you had to claim your payment for your services. aizawa was so quick to submit to your advances, it was almost enough to make you feel bad for his husband. almost.
effortlessly bending the pro hero over the newly fixed washing machine and making him beg and cry for you to breed him like the cheating slut he was,, it felt quite nice. even more so, to just leave him a cum filled mess against the washer as you took your money and left.
shouta made sure to dispose of all the evidence of your encounter before hizashi returned home. hizashi, the poor bastard, was of course still oblivious, but he did find it strange that aizawa's legs were trembling slightly.
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes