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#mha imagines
tteokdoroki · 3 months ago
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presented | k.bakugou.
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♡ pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader.
♡ word count: 13.3K
♡ rating: mature, 18+, mdni.
♡ genre: fantasy!au, dragon king!au, angst, fluff + smut.
♡ summary: on the twenty-first birthday of katsuki bakugou, an offering is made in his honour as he becomes chief of the dragons. clans usually offer up sacrifices of berries or nuts, salts and fresh catches. but for those of dargon’s blood, their offering is a mate...and that mate is you.
♡ warning(s): please read ! heavy smut,  ( characters aged up to early twenties ), dark content,  dub-con,  heavy!voyeurism, heavy!degredation, slight!misogyny breeding!kink, dacryphilia!kink, unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it, kids ), fingering ( female receiving ), blowjobs, tummy bulges, face slapping,  choking, spitting, cumplay, reader is a sexual offering. listen,,, its a lot...
♡ author’s note(s): HAPPY BAKUGOU DAY <33 i love this man sm :( and i wanted to do somn special for his day so here’s my contribution to the bakugou birthday bash collab!!! ( my first woo ) hosted by the lovely @jodrawssmut @phasmwrites @katsukikitten @bakugotrashpanda @lady-bakuhoe and @ramen-rambles​ !! pls go ahead and check out the works from the other creators!!  and enjoy <333
♡ masterlist | requests | kofi
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it was tradition in the tribes of barbarians roaming japan, that on the twenty first birthday of the eldest child of the tribe leader came— an offering would be made in their honour and the title of chief would be passed down to them. for those of nymph and earth tribes it would be the month’s harvest of berries and nuts, for those of mer and water tribes it would be fresh salts and the biggest catch they could find… and for tribes of dragons and fire it would be— a mate.
the dragon clans worked differently from most others, with rituals fuelled by the heats of their core and the fire in their spirits— their desire. so when the moon came to be at its highest and the eldest child had come of age, the virginity of the most eligible men or women of the tribe was offered up as thanks for the leader’s hard work.
not much was expected of the offering, their only goal in life to produce heirs to the chief and act in pleasure of their mate. offerings were also trained from an early age for the ceremony— it was considered a privilege and brought many riches to their family. at least that’s what your parents had told you, where they as children had watched their friend masaru be paired with the dragon clan’s current chief, mitsuki. you had never understood the glitz and the glamour of being presented to someone as a gift, having your rights stripped away from you to be nothing more than a trophy to the leader of your people. the question of why always remained at the forefront of your mind, why was this the goal? why was this the life your parents so badly wished for you to attain?
sure, the arrangement and ceremony had it’s ups, mitsuki and masaru were happily mated still to this day and brought the dragon clan of barbarians much success, creating stable ground for trade amongst other clans and cementing their fearsome reputation— but you couldn’t see mating for honour in your future. you wanted it to be out of love just like your parents. you didn’t want to be one of sixteen other gifts offered to the chief’s son on his birthday ( a son that you barely remember, mind you. ) — but then again, life wasn’t always about getting what you wanted, unless you had power. life was always unfair so it seemed.
sometimes you wondered what the chief’s son thought of all this, you liked to think he too would be opposed to something so obscure as an offering and mating ceremony to celebrate his birthday and coming of age— but even then it was still wishful thinking and you could barely remember bakugou well enough to know what he was thinking. you had played together as children apparently, before you’d both begun your individual training, him to be a warrior, a leader and a king and yourself, a wife, a mother and whatever the future chief needed. it had been a long time since then, so you tried not to be bothered that you couldn’t remember him.
for right now, you sit aged twenty on the night before the coming of age offering and ceremony— sitting between girls of a similar age group as they fix the gifts they’d prepared for bakugou in their lessons today. another tradition you found stupid, was that along with the classes you had to take in order to prepare yourself as an offering , was to prepare a feasible gift for the future leader of your clan. as if he didn’t already have all the riches and land in the area under his belt already. the excitement of the girls in your hut  irks you enough to tune out of the conversation, wondering if any of the other offerings were getting much sleep and would allow an extra bed. you only return to the chitchat when someone calls your name.
“yn,” a girl you know as ichika whines from beside you, throwing herself into your left shoulder whilst clutching a woven basket she’d made for the prince. “aren’t you excited?”
you frown at the girl, confused and rub at the spot she’d hit you with a pout soon after. “why would i be excited?” your tone is blunt and unamused, there’s not a single emotion that sits at the base of your words— unlike the other offerings who can’t wait to have at it with the soon to be dragon prince. you couldn’t understand their fascination with having their life thrown away for someone they hardly knew.
akari is next to speak, she was a little older than most of the other offerings, at aged twenty three going on twenty four— a lot of your teachers doubted bakugou would pick someone older, since he needed someone able to produce heirs or live long enough to care for many generations of his offspring, no matter who they came from. you sometimes felt bad for her, but then again this seemed to be a life she was willing to suffer through. “didn’t you know him growing up, yn? oh please tell us what he was like?” she squeals with star struck eyes, latching into your right arm as she abandons the small fabric painting she’d made for bakugou. the others lean forwards in their seats, eager to swallow up any information they could get on their future mate before the time came, but you didn’t know how many more times you could tell them that you didn’t have any.
you clutch at your own gift, suppressing the annoyance at their ignorance. you’d made bakugou a necklace of shells, small and pearlescent ones that shone when you held them up to the light of the moon. did they sparkle like his eyes? hold the world’s fragile jewels? you think, but if you weren’t careful, they could shatter under your harsh grip and crumble to pieces— much like the hearts of all of these other offerings if the chief’s son didn’t pick them at tomorrow night’s ceremony. shells were fragile yet beautiful things, they didn’t deserve to be broken like this. you don’t even know why you bothered to make the stupid thing, you didn’t want to get picked and it’s not like you would anyway.
looking away from hopeful faces, you drop your gaze to your lap and sigh. “i don’t know how many more ways i can tell you this, but i don’t know him— bakugou, i don’t even remember him!” you try to explain, earning yourself several irritated sighs and a couple of eye rolls. “my parents are the ones that do! he and i were just barely on our feet when we played together as children.” both ichika and akari retreat from you at this, a solemn shadow cascading over their features and again you’re made to feel like an outcast. for thinking differently, for mayhaps thinking better of yourself instead of as a gift to be traded off to someone else.
“of course she wouldn’t tell us, why would she when knowing about him gives her the one up. typical yn. so selfish.”
one of the other offerings mumbles from a distance, and when you look to the girls you had previously been chatting with— they choose to lower their heads and not even utter a word in your defence. you scoff, standing up from your seat and deciding that if those you were raised and taught with weren’t going to have your back, you would much rather be elsewhere. so you quickly gather your robes, stuffing the necklace into your pocket and storm out from the hut— ignoring the whispered pleas for you to come back to bed and not break the rules to avoid getting in trouble. you were tired of the rules, hot from being kept inside and hotter in the face from being pushed away by the others.
you don’t know why it hurts so much, to be rejected by offerings you’d never see again after tomorrow and a part of you longs for some kind of acceptance somewhere out in the world. would you get it from your parents if bakugou chose you? would you even get it from yourself if being his mate was where you ended up? as you weave your way out of the offering camp and into the forest behind, your frenzied storm of nerve wracking thoughts quickly dissipate when your face is hit with cool nightly winds and fresh air that carries the salt from the seas at the mouth of the nearest river.
closing your eyes, you feel relief flood your body and your worries tumble downstream with the rush of the river. whatever were to happen tomorrow, you’re sure would be fine, you try to convince yourself— doing your best to ignore the raging anxious parts of your brain. opening your eyes, you lift a finger to the sky and allow the stars and constellations in the midnight canvas above to soothe your spirits, recounting each of the ones your father had taught to you as a child to calm your nerves. ursa major is one easy find, ursa minor next and after that the ram and after that some rustling deep within the bushes across the stream.
hold on a second, rustling?
slapping a hand over your mouth, you try to quieten your breathing. it was stupid of you to come out here so late at night, alone and without a weapon— that was also one of the rules of the offerings camp and rightly so, it was usually around this time other, weaker divisions in the dragon clan would try to sabotage the coming of age ceremonies by attacking and harming the offerings and you knew that there wasn’t much damage the necklace you thumbed over in your pocket could do as a weapon of self defence. hearing the rustling in the foliage turn to footsteps against the woodland floor, you duck in an attempt to conceal yourself— praying that whoever it is has a  shitty sense of hearing.  
“whoever’s there, i can see your fucking robes, if yer a hostile you might as well come out. ya’don't stand a damn chance against me.” a gruff voice cuts into the peaceful silence of the night and out of fear, you jump up and throw your only mechanism of defence at the perpetrator. he makes an oof  sound as shells collide with his skin but scoffs not long after. that’s how you know you’re fucked. “throwin’ a shitty necklace at me? well you’re no damn hostile, show yourself, fucker.”
you curse to yourself internally— you weren’t raised or taught to fight for yourself, that wasn’t the job of the dragon king’s mate, it was his job to protect you and that was another thing you found ridiculous about this whole ceremony scheme. catching your breath, you weigh up your options; either you make a mad dash back to the camp and face getting scolded for leaving the premises— or you face this stranger and die before you possibly give up your life for a man you’d hardly known.
dying sounded a lot better than being some asshole’s mate right about now.
moving to your feet, you rise to a standing position and make yourself visible to the intruder, hands up in the air as you ready to plead for your life and surrender. however, your face mirrors the look of surprise on the stranger’s handsome face, your gaze settling on a man seemingly in his early twenties with blood ruby eyes that practically shine like precious dragon jewels under the night sky. they hold secrets as they scan your body, catching on the robes that identify you belonging to the dragon tribe and more specifically as an offering too. he seems to recognise that fact, gaze revealing the fine detail of disappointment amongst the dark flecks in his eyes. the corners of lips twitch into a deep frown, as if the asshole is looking down on you. the boy has blonde hair, thick in volume and rough and unruly like the untamed flames of a village bonfire while he stands tall and the muscles of his body flex from underneath his red fur cape— also allowing you to place him as a member of your clan.
the stranger is beautiful, nothing like you’ve ever seen before and he makes curiosity burn at your insides while you both stare one another down.
after sometime, he scoffs and you have to avert your eyes from his figure to avoid watching his bulky, trained arms flex deliciously as he crosses them. “yer a fuckin’ offering?” he states more than he questions, causing initiation to flare up deep in your chest.
“and you shouldn’t be here.” you counter with a roll of your eyes. you quickly mimic his stance, in a weak attempt to cover the silken red fabric that does blatantly tell the world what you are. a mate, an offering, a gift.
“neither should you,” the blonde shoots a cocky smirk your way while he moves to cross the stream that separates you— chucking the shell necklace you’d made for bakugou in your direction. he makes a noise of amusement when you stumble to catch it and clutch the gift to your chest. “shouldn’t ya be back at your camp, with the others? oh ‘n here’s your shitty necklace, get a better weapon.”  you don’t know why you feel so protective of the stupid thing, it’s not like bakugou would appreciate it if he chose you. which he wouldn’t, he can’t, you don’t want him to.
the stranger adjusts himself after joining you on the other side of the stream, the water is only shallow and reached up to his boots— but he was stupid and hadn’t lifted his cape to stop it from getting soaked in his commute. for the second time that night, heat prickles at the skin underneath your cheeks while he takes the heavy red fur into his hands, wrigining it out to free the water that weighs it down. your skin only burns because the asshole isn’t wearing a shirt and you can see his abs ripple as he moves and shifts the cape off to reveal his scarred, caramel grazed skin to the night air.
“technically, i’m still on campgrounds. you’re the one who shouldn’t be here. you shouldn’t even be looking at us. so what are you even doing here?”  you ask him after defending yourself. even if you were breaking the rules by not being in your hut, it was against clan rules to see the offerings before the ceremony. they were for the chief's child only. and besides, the wooded area surrounding the offering campgrounds wasn’t off limits, he was the one who was somewhere he shouldn’t be. “who even are you?”
the blonde tilts his head at you, as if he’s entertained by the little sass that you give him and sucks his teeth once. “i’m on a fuckin’ walk, i’m a traveller, not that that’s any of yer business.” he grunts, voice rough in a way that makes you shiver. the stranger makes a move to sit on the grass, laying out his cape to dry under the night's moon. you backup a little bit to give him some space but also a little bit out of fear. you hadn’t had much contact with people outside the camp aside from your parents and the other offerings, so being this close to an incredibly handsome and abrasive stranger was nerve wracking. still, you shake your head, you couldn’t be having thoughts about another man when you could be married off tomorrow. “stop yer fuckin’ movin’ too, ‘m not gonna kill ya, you’re not a hostile and you’d be too easy.”
the boy adds, finally giving you a toothy grin at how you begin to scowl at him you admit, it’s worth it though. “what’s your name then?” you settle on asking him next, moving to sit down next to him. he spares you a glance but doesn’t shy away, allowing you to sit with him.
“bak— katsuki, now stop askin’ me questions, it’s fuckin’ annoying.” katsuki mumbles as he lays back in the grass and closes his eyes while he waits for his belongings to dry, locking away the fiery vermillion orbs that seem oddly comforting to you. a silence sweeps over you, one that’s weirdly content and periodically interrupted by the pair of you shifting in the grass or woodland creatures moving amongst the treelines or in the bushes.
“why are you out for a walk so late at night, katsuki?” you press, not afraid of pushing his buttons.
if he was really annoyed by your talking he would have up and left by now, but instead the self proclaimed traveller who you now know as katsuki lets out a low chuckle but keeps his eyes closed. “thought i asked you ta’stop talkin’?” the blonde gives a small chuckle as if he finds your persistence interesting.
“i‘m not a very good listener.” you retort, catching the wisps of a smile against his lips.
“i could tell.” bakugou doesn’t know why he continues to entertain you, maybe it’s because your innocent aura is like a breath of fresh air compared to the people he’s used to being around. “you talk too much, people must have a hard time gettin’ a shitty word in around you.” there’s something different about you, you don’t talk to him with the weight of expectations hidden behind your tone or try to play into his desires and change yourself to please him. instead, you challenged his actions and play along with his harsh banter. you’re brand new, a light shining in the dark pressure he feels.
this time to don’t bounce back with a witty response, your next words falling flat. “trust me, it’s quite the opposite.”
katsuki doesn’t need to be up and looking at you to know that a solemn frown is cast over your features like a dark cloud ruining a sunny day. he may not know you well enough but he could tell that you must not have a lot of people around you that you could talk to.
he doesn’t like feeling sympathetic but he shifts until his legs are bent and bumps his knee against yours as you have yours crossed. “‘m out here ‘cause i needed to think, got a lot on my plate. under a lotta pressure.” the blonde says to answer your earlier question.
you hum appreciatively, casting your gaze over the strangers’s closed eyes and now relaxed face. you wonder what a traveller like him could be stressed about and rub your knee where he bumped you, sheepishly. “‘m sorry,”
“don’t be, s’not like i need your pity, y’have plenty of that ya’self it’s seems.” katsuki still seems calm, another small smile playing at his lips— telling you that he enjoys talking to you despite the sharp edge to his words.
you push at his knee. “yeah? and how would you know?”
“you just like look like it.” he mumbles.
“your eyes are closed, you’re not even looking at me right now!”
“don’t need to be, can feel it. you exude ‘my life sucks’ energy.” katsuki’s eyes briefly flicker over to you, giving you a knowing look before he returns to his nap like state.
you scoff incredulously, he’s only been around you for about thirty minutes and he’s already making assumptions about to character. “and you’re not going to ask me about what my life is really like?” you ask, huffing into the night.
“nope,” the dragon prince ( unbeknownst to you ) says, popping the p. “don’t care enough.” you giggle, finding the stranger’s blunt attitude slightly charming.
this moment and the banter it held had been the most relaxed you had been in a while, no longer trapped by the strings of stress related to giving your life away for the sake of tradition. for some reason, you feel like you can talk to katsuki, even if he’s rude and gruff, he doesn’t seem bothered by your presence.“well since you oh-so-kindly asked..my name’s yn and...i’m on a walk too. one that i shouldn’t be on, valuable merchandise and all...but i needed to clear my head.” you confess into the cool air, looking back up at the sky in search for the constellation of your own zodiac sign.
katsuki bakugou cracks an eye open, looking over your side profile as you find peace within the sky. he thinks that you’re stupid for not recognising him, especially after his blunder with his own damn name but for some unknown reason he feels drawn to you and can’t bring himself to leave. “don’t care, didn’t ask, stop talkin’.” he spits, despite his internal thoughts and hopes that you ignore his brashness.
you do, barely giving him the time of day as you continue, fingers gripping the grass beneath your thighs. “i needed to clear my head because i’m scared, about tomorrow, about my future and…” you pause as bakugou perks up, seemingly interested in what you have to say about the choosing ceremony for his birthday. he didn’t care much for it himself, it was part and parcel of the leader of the dragon clan, he’d do what he had to for his people, for honour. “and i know with all my heart that if i am chosen to be the dragon prince’s mate tomorrow, it’ll be the worst moment of my entire life. i’m not cut out to be someone’s wife, to be limited to having his children and to serving him, pleasing him. that’s just not who i am or what i want from this life…the other offerings all look forward to being this, but me? i—“
“yeah, yeah yeah, boohoo little miss ‘‘m not like other girls’, we fuckin’get it.” katsuki groans loudly now, cutting right through your train of thought. you make a move to curse him out, to shove him hard in shoulder for disrupting you while you pour your heart out into night time’s breeze but he grabs your wrist and yanks you toward him. your heart rate spikes as his warm breath fans over your cheeks, but he doesn’t seem the least bit fazed for now. “stop pittyin’ yerself. who’s to say the chief’s son’s gonna pick ya anyways? i know i wouldn’t with all yer fuckin’ whinin’.” the blonde tuts when you gasp, not expecting his mean words but you can barely focus on them with your sudden proximity. you’ve become so close that you can see the darker shades of red that line his vermillion orbs along with the tan freckles that line his cheek bones and dot around his scars, he’s beautiful and you wish so badly that you weren’t an offering so you might have a chance with him.
bakugou doesn’t seem to notice as you lose focus, still scolding you with a firm grip on your wrist while he inches closer to you. “it fuckin’ sucks having your whole life planned out for you— but’cha make do with what you have, this is an honour, to your name and to your parents,” he breathes in with the sway of the trees as he grows heated and katsuki isn’t sure when his lesson to you turned into a rant about his feelings towards what he really thought about the ceremony. “...hell, even to—even to your fuckin’ clan. you really gonna pity yourself when you could end up with a better life than what half the people here have? would you hate it that much if you got chosen?” he looks to you hopefully, eyes catching the light of the moon as he speaks.
“i won’t get chosen.” you whisper, not registering the fact that katsuki is leaning into you with unadulterated curiousness. something about the way he stares at you, makes you tingle with a foreign feeling. was it desire? interest? fear? you couldn’t tell.
“what if you do?” he counters, a breaths width away from you now.
“i won’t. he wouldn’t want me.” your eyes meet before gazes flutter down to either one of your lips.
“how would you know that?”
this time, you bite your lip and finally break away from the trance katsuki had somehow lured you into. “not even i want me. i wouldn’t be able to meet his needs.”
bakugou scoffs at this, the sound similar to earlier when you’d first met and eventually pulls away from you. the lack of his overbearing warmth and harshness upsets something within your body and you start to cower due to the cold— even if your robes protect you from the breeze. “yer a fuckin’ whiner, you know that? it’s fuckin’ infuriating,” he sighs before gathering his cape and moving to stand. “you should go back to your camp before someone finds ya. i’ll see you tomorrow.”
the last of katsuki’s words pass over your head, your body still reeling from his change in attitudes and emotions towards you. your head spins, one second you’re about to kiss a complete stranger and the next, he’s leaving you in the cold of the night. was this what life would be like if you were chosen at the ceremony? needed one moment and then in the blink of an eye, tossed to the side? you hated that feeling, you never wanted to feel that way ever again. so you quickly gather yourself together, not bothering to watch bakugou retreat and pray to all of the stars that you don’t get chosen to be the future chief’s mate.
“tomorrow?” you whisper, briefly touching your lips before heading to your hut back at camp for some well deserved rest.
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the next day is spent preparing for the ceremony taking place that night. your teachers from over the last few years bid you and the other offerings fair well, reminding you of your training with tearful granny eyes as they pull at your cheeks and tell you not to worry if you didn’t get picked— like you were all children being chosen for a team game. you”re given a celebratory lunch for completing your training, which your parents and family are allowed to join you for.
more tears are shed when your mother sees you again, telling you what a beautiful young lady you’ve become and that bakugou would be lucky to mate you. you choke on your green tea and your father wipes you clean, recounting old memories of how you and the future dragon king used to play in the mud as infants— the other offerings and their families stare you down but you avoid their gazes and chant to yourself ‘the sooner this day is over, the sooner you never have to see ichika and akari ever again.’ to distract yourself.
part of you hoped that bakugou is into self centred, shallow and fake women— at least that way one of them would have a better chance at being his mate than you.
you almost cry when they begin to dress you for the ceremony later that day. you feel demeaned as they strip you from the safety of your robes and put you in skimpy fabrics consisting of next to nothing. a red bralette does nothing but hold up your cleavage, leaving your skin exposed to the chilly spring air— it’s fabric painted with shades of burnt orange and honeyed yellows to symbolise the fire of your people. the panties are even worse. you regrettably run your fingers over the fabric, hating how your most intimate areas will be put on display for everyone to see, even your parents.
was losing yourself worth it to become what they wanted?
shame burns at your cheeks when your teachers tie strings of a dragon scaled thong around your waist, to them you look like a model beauty— ready to become a wife but you feel nothing but loss and try to remember katsuki’s words from the night before. this was for honour, make do with what you have. your teachers leave you after you’re dressed, reminding you to join the others as you slide on some traditional jewellery and fix your hair. with a nervous heart pounding at your rib cage, you grab your gift to the dragon prince and head towards the main camp, where the other offerings reside behind a makeshift stage. they ignore you, of course, leaving you to your own devices until the ceremony begins.
a hand lands on you shoulder, breaking you from your jumpy trance. “good luck out there, whiner,” katsuki’s familiar, timbre voice fills your ear and a warmth floods your exposed, cool body. spinning around, you lock eyes with the blonde and can’t help but smile. he’s dressed for the occasion too, although missing his cape from last night he wears leather as well, but in the form of a lace up jacket that ends just under his rib cage, patterns that tell stories of your clan’s origins are burned into the material— it’s unusual blue contrasting with the heat of his eyes. he must be here to join the crowds like everyone else, you muse, the clan makes a big deal out of these things.
“thank you, katsuki,” you breathe steadily, trying to hide your body when you realise you must look much different from last night.
he doesn’t look down, much to your surprise, gaze settling on the chain of shells you’d made for the dragon prince. katsuki’s face twists with something you don’t recognise before he tucks away a stray baby of yours and leans in to whisper into the shell of your ear. “you’ll be fuckin’ needing it, whiner.” he says smoothly, retreating from your body as he stalks away to the beat of the announcing drums outside.
“what’s that supposed to mean—?” again, you don’t understand what it is that he means but before you can get an answer, the man is lost in the chaos and you’re lining up to head out on centre stage to give up the rest of your life.
“now presenting, the sixteen offerings of the dragon-fire tribe!” someone calls to the crowd, announcing your cue. you follow the lead of the other offerings into the stage, blinded by fire and pitched while you’re drowned in the screaming and chanting of your fellow barbarians.
you would make do, you would do this for honour.
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up on stage, your blood freezes in your veins.
you feel stuck in place, barely able to move and think any clear thoughts aside from him. before tonight, in your mind, bakugou was a fuzzy blur from your childhood, a blurry figure that danced amongst your memories as a child— but here now, he stays standing before you as clear as day with his mother mitsuki bakugou announcing him to the clan as your new leader. her son, katsuki bakugou.
you feel a fool for not noticing the resemblance in him earlier— you”d confided in the man you had a one in sixteen chance of being mated to, told him your fears and your worries and now he proudly smirked to his people with an inflated ego and an evil glint in his once warm eyes. “my boy, as you take reign as chief,” mistuki’s voice booms loudly across the swarm of barbarians that cheer the new chief on, reclining in her seat and linking hands with masaru. katsuki basks in his new found glory, barely acknowledging his mother until she starts to speak again, “you must choose a mate to stand by your side as you build your new empire and to bring forth heirs in order for the bakugou name to prosper. katsuki bakugou, you must choose one from the sixteen offerings by taking their gift to you and placing it on your body as proof you belong to them, and they you,”
the crowd falls into an anticipating silence, the moment they’d been waiting for since the period of sacrifice began finally coming to fruition. it’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop, in fact, the sounds of your own uneven breathing fills the air while you hope and pray that bakugou skips over you. tradition has it that the new chief must inspect each of his offerings before coming to a final decision, so you wait with baited breath in hopes that he chooses someone, anyone but you to become his. your gaze drops to your feet while the dragon king’s footsteps ascend the line of your classmates, you can’t bear to look Jim in the eye after he knows what he does about you. you don’t even want to see your parents in the crowd.
the footsteps grow closer and your anxiety spikes, causing you to screw your eyes shut. “gimme yer dumb fuckin’ necklace.” bakugou declares with a harsh tug of your chin to make you look up at him. his sudden presence before you sends shock waves through your system and your eyes shoot open to meet his cooler, now more calculated ones. he had picked you.
“k-katsuki?” you stutter, hands shakily holding out the jewellery you’d make for him. you wonder if he recognises you from last night, the pathetic girl who wanted to escape it all, whining about her life— does he remember that she was you?
“finally recognise me, whiner?” the dragon king snatches the necklace from your hands and pulls it over his head with unusual care for his brash personality— face lighting up as he questions you. you swallow and nod your head, unable to do anything else as you remain paralysed with shock. turning to his people, bakugou takes hold of your wrist in the same way he did last night and pulls you towards them before you have a chance to think. “this one. she’s my mate.”
you could almost hear the excited screams of your parents, cheers from your people and sighs or sneers of disappointment from your fellow offering peers while they’re cleared off of the stage. you feel light headed, everything moving too quickly for you to process and you latch onto katsuki to steady yourself. he smirks as if he had planned this all.
mitsuki stands from her throne, approaching you with a smile of approval stretching across her lips. “what is your name?” she asks you and when you give it to her, the smile on her face grows. “now yn, here your life begins as mate to the chief of the dragon clan. you begin by presenting yourself to your mate.”
“p-presenting myself?” absentmindedly, you shudder— from cold or from anxiety you’re not sure. all the lessons you’ve ever learned about being an offering drop from the forefront of your mind and all you can think about is all the people that will watch you lose yourself to katsuki bakugou. you feel sick, still not over the fact that you’d met last night, the fact that he’d chosen you despite everything you had to say and most importantly— the fact that he was basking in your reaction.
the new chief uses your hold on him as leverage to push you down to the floor, not letting up even as you stumble and taking over as his mother backs away from you both to let him perform his duty in completing the ceremony. “you heard her, slut.” katsuki’s mouth remains vulgar but this time the words on his tongue are dipped in a coating of venom that sends an uncomfortable mix of desire and fright down your spine. “get on your hands ‘n fuckin’ knees, present yourself to your people, present yourself to your king— to me.”
in that moment, while trepidation twists in your gut, you feel the blood in your veins fill with a sick mix of hatred and humiliation. you hate him for ruining your life after you put your trust in him. he took advantage of your innocence in not knowing who he was, acting as a stranger who made you feel safe and wanted. you hate him for it.
“do i need to fuckin’ repeat myself? do they teach you offerin’s nothing or are you just that dumb.” bakugou says cooly , disinterested expression taking over his face, similar to when you’d first met last night. on the contrary, his rubied eyes bleed with newfound fierceness— telling you that if you mess up, he’ll snap. “ya’must have nothin’ but air between those fuckin’ ears or didn’t they teach ya to take orders? get on your fucking knees.”
this man isn’t the same as the one you’d met last night, he’s mean and feral, blinded by the roaring cheers from his people. you internally curse yourself out for the heat that starts to grow between your exposed thighs while the dragon king  degrades you. you hate it, you hate him. “n-no, k-katsuki please, you know i don’t want to do this,” you bite back a whimper, trying to get through to the softer side of him that had comforted you prior but he returns the wobble in your lower lip with a snarl, his upper lip curling harshly in a way that makes you genuinely scared.
“you think i care about what you want? this day is about me. it’s my day, my fuckin’ ceremony and you’ll do as i please. like ya’spsosed to, as my mate.” tears flood your eyes and the spark that they held in the moon the night before falls from them easily, much to katsuki’s expiation. he’s going to enjoy breaking you down tonight. “you should be honoured about servicing me, don’t you remember our little chat yesterday? you should feel honour. don’t wanna disappoint your teachers, your folks, your people… do you?”
poison dipped words sit in the forefront of your mind as you look up at your newfound mate. the people of the dragon clan weren’t just under his rule, but yours too. there would be expectations that they had for you: to bare children, to look pretty and be kind. to be mated to their chief under their watchful eye. would your parents really feel disappointed if you neglected your duties in front of everyone they knew.
you shake your head gently at your king’s confession, feeling the eyes of every person in your clan on you in that moment. vermillion eyes light up at your change of heart, you’ll want this, just as he did. “good girl, now hurry the fuck up and get on your knees.” katsuki seethes, pride swelling in his chest as you give into his demands. angry tears that you swallow down hurt at you throat while you shift from your slump on the floor into a kneeling position— anger towards yourself for wanting whatever he’s about to do to you, despite how scared you feel.
bakugou towers above you, you hadn’t noticed last night how big he really was. his honey glazed chest is barely covered by the tight leather that he wears, muscled from the years of training he’d undergone for this moment. his body looks as if it were carved from stone by the gods himself, angular and cut in the right placed— heavy scars lining his perfect skin. he’s so big that you feel dwarfed as a large palm comes up to sit on your head, the touch softer compared to the blood lustful stare he gives you, it flickers for a moment when you flinch back.
“katsuki—“
“‘m not gonna hurt ya, ya stupid little thing. at least not yet.” his words are gentle but unlike last night, you aren’t so naive to believe him this time round. bakugou’s thick fingers wrap around the tendrils of your hair, gripping them harshly and using them to force your head until a sky filled with stars comes into view. you gasp at the unexpected pain, he’s hurting you and you so shamefully like the pain, rubbing your kneeling thighs together as slick starts to travel between them. the blonde takes your open mouth as a sign of opportunity— spitting into it harshly and smirking as you splutter and choke on him. the action gets a rouse out of the crowd, members of your clan cheering katsuki on as he starts to take his claim over your body.
yanking you to look up at him as a sweltering heat boils in your lower tummy, the dragon king leans down to your level until you’re a breaths width apart and he can practically smell the need rolling off of you in waves. “here’s how this s’gonna go, little one. ‘m gonna fuck you, in front of all of these people— make a fung show of turnin’ you into my obedient lil mate. mine.”  he grips your cheeks with a free handcki, pads of his burning hot fingers sinking into the supple flesh there as he keeps and even, low voice. “you’re fuckin’ mine now, y’got that?”
through squashed cheeks you manage to agree with him— meekly. “yes, katsuki—“
your words are quickly cut off when the hands that held your cheeks release you— only to send up slapping you across the face. your head swings to the side and you blink back the burning pain in your cheek— a pain that you liked, that made you leak through the flimsy thong you were wearing. the people cheer and you whimper.
“getting real sick of you whinin’ my name like that,” bakugou muses, mouth twitching up into a sinister smirk. he takes in your dazed state, the way your pupils blow wide your mouth now hangs open with tracks of drool. “y’gonna call me your fuckin’ king, especially if you wanna get slapped around like that again, i know you liked that, nasty bitch.”
you can’t believe the vulgar words that pour from the boy’s mouth even with everyone watching his every move, you find it harder to believe that you’re enjoying this— never having been handled like this before. nothing in your training as an offering could prepare you for how mean, dirty and nasty bakugou would be when taking you for the first time.
he steps around your kneeling form with calculated eyes, mapping out in his brain how he wants to ravage your pure and virgin body first. once out of your line of vision, the dragon king disappears from your body completely— leaving you under the watchful gaze of barbarian men. you hate it that you miss his hands on you, grabbing you and twisting you in different ways.
katsuki returns with a curved blade, earning hoots from your clan as he holds it to your chest. your heart hammers against your rib cage and you look up at the blonde with wild untamed fear. “be still, unless ya want me to fuckin’ cut ya,” he warns, keeping cool until you manage to still yourself enough for him to hook the blade on your bralette and slice right through the material.
the flimsy fabric falls limp at your chest, making you shudder as your breasts are exposed to the cooler night air— making your nipples harden. “fuck baby, look yer tits… so fuckin’ pretty,” you mewl at his praise, chest arching into nothing as dangerous blood red eyes dance between them. they look so soft to him and he wants nothing more than to bury his face between them and mark them up— but there would be time for that later, his twitching hard on required more attention. “want you to suck me off, take out my cock n suck it dry. use your tits, dirty girl.”
your body flushes with white hot desire at katsuki’s command and without thinking, you launch forward to work through his pants eagerly, forgetting the group of people watching you just as eagerly. after fighting with his belt for long enough, bakugou finally manages to shrug down his pants— cock springing free as he’d forgone underwear. you’d never seen a cock up close before, fascinated by the clear droplets of precum that ooze from the slit at his angry red tip. your king is impressive in size too, curved ever so slightly and so big you fear that wherever he chooses to put it, bakugou’s length might not fit.
you know that he’d make it fit, however.
“what’s takin’ you so long?” bakugou grunts impatiently from above you, face contort with want as you eye his impressive girth. the cold air is getting to him, making his dick twitch at the change in temperature.
you hesitate and bite your lip, feeling your cheeks flame as the crowd of men grow angsty. “katsuk— i mean, my king… i’ve never…never...”
“spit it the fuck out.” he snaps.
“i’ve never sucked a cock before!” you squeal, ashamed that you had to admit the fact in front of everyone that you know. as an offering you had never had a sexual encounter in your life, unless you counted touching yourself at night while you thought everyone else was asleep.
something shifts in the air as realisation dawns on katsuki. for a split second he had forgotten the traditions of your clan, that offerings were made to remain pure and innocent until their mate could take them at the ceremony. he grins at the thought, he would be the first to break you— wreck your mouth and your cunt and ruin everything else for you. “shit, huh? guess i’ll have to teach you that too, stupid lil girl can’t do anytnin’ for herself can ya, how pathetic.” bakugou hums, feeling himself pant from excitement about sinking into your hot mouth. he grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls you onto him, shoving his leaky cock past your soft, virgin lips.
you make a small squeak of protest at his sharp thrust into your mouth, but settle down feeling the weight of bakugou’s girth on your tongue. he’s heavy, tasting of sweetness and smelling like caramel— mostly from the layer of sweat that glazes his skin. experimentally, you run your tongue over the prominent vein on the underside of his cock and peer up at him through your lashes.
fucking hell, you look so darling and innocent from up above, dried tears on your cheeks as your jaw stretches to accommodate for katsuki’s size. your mouth is hot as he sinks further into it and he can feel your tongue fidgeting beneath him as he pushes in. “fuck baby...you’re so hot on me, how’s it feel? takin’ a fat cock in your mouth for the first time, hah?” bakugou’s words come out slurred and breathy, swaying on his feet as he pushes your head towards his balls and bucks up into your mouth. “look atchu baby, fuckin’ look at her.”
the blonde sneers commandingly to the crowd with another jolt of his hips, sticky tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat with ease. you gag, fresh sets of tears springing to your doe eyes and searing a pathway down your chubby baby fat cheeks as they burn with shame once again. your cunt is wet, throbbing with wanton as your mate directs everyone to look at you choking on the sheer size of him— for some reason, mayhaps a primal desire, you feel the need to impress and begin to slowly bob your up and down the length of katsuki’s dick.
a triumphant, toothy grin spreads across the dragon king’s lips— bearing is sharp fangs for all the world to see. you’ve finally come around, ready to get the show on the road and he pulls your head back by the hair only just to add a globule of his own spit to the sloppy mess you’ve made on his cock. “ohh fuck, shit. y’sure this is the first time you’ve sucked a cock, little one? ‘cause your mouth is takin’ me in like a well trained slut,” bakugou coos, although there’s a mocking lilt to his tone but you barely hear him over the sound of you slurping up his precum and sloppily licking over what fits in your mouth.
he shudders, feeling you swallow around the tip at hit reaches the base of your throat— eyes growing hazy. “gonna need those precious tits of yours baby, s’pecially since your pathetic mouth can’t take all of me,” katsuki pants out. he doesn’t need your breasts on him but he can’t help but want to stain them with all the dripping mess from his cock. painting your body with his potent seed so everyone knows that you’re his.
seeing you like this makes his chest burn with lust, thoughts of all the ways he could take you and claim you plaguing his mind. he fucking lucked out, he thinks, being the only one who’s ever going to get you on your knees like this.
as you hesitantly push your breasts together around the base of his cock, visions of you waiting for him, sprawled out across various furs under the light of burning flames flash behind katsuki’s eyes. you’re going to belong to him, mind body and soul but everyone has to know it first.
your tits are soft and fleshy around the base of katsuki’s dick and his eyes flutter shut at the push and pull of them over his length, at least what doesn’t fit into your mouth. you remain obedient for him, giving it your all to see the dragon king’s face contort with pleasure above you, memorising how he twitches when your tongue presses down on certain spots along his shaft. fuck you’re so good at this, so pretty like this with his essence smeared against your skin and your glassy eyes focused on him and only him.
“god the way you’re fuckin’ lookin’ at me, takin’ my cock...such a good little bitch, hah?” you moan around him, praise shooting straight to your puffy, untouched heat. the sound travels up katsuki’s length, pulling a broken growl from him. “oh yer s’naughty, practically begging fer me to fill your mouth up with my cum, hah? isn’t that whatcha want?” his breathing is shallow, hips stuttering as he thrusts through the valley of your breasts, straight into the heat of your sinful mouth. bakugou could cum like this, paint your mouth from the sight of drool spilling down your cheeks and chin, dripping between your bouncing tits, over your hard nipples and mixing with the clear stickiness of his precum. “too bad ya cockhungry little whore, ‘m not cummin’ till i get to that tight little cunt of yers—hey!”
you forget for a moment, the people surrounding you and watching you slobber over their leader’s cock and stumble forward, selfishly closing your lips around katsuki— desperate to taste his release on your tongue. he grits his teeth, drunk on the early signs of his high as spit gathers in mouth before you spew it all over his heavy girth, some of it landing on his thick thighs and against your messier chest. “oh-hoho, you greedy fuckin’ girl,” he punctuates each of his words with a thrust through your glossy lips and a pat to your cheeks. “yer such a slut, s’hungry for your first taste of my cock hah? in front of all these people?”
red eyes swimming with lust dart to the crowd, growing more and more rowdy the more you give in to your duty as mate. you follow katsuki’s eyes, whimpering around him at the men and women who basically drool over you getting railed. “oh fuck— you fuckin’ bitch, m’gonna cum, gonna fuckin’ cum—“  he grabs hold of your face with a free hand, pushing you further down his girth until your nose his buried in his public hairs. you gag and choke and splutter as he thrusts deeper and deeper into your tight throat. a gruff moan tears in bakugou’s throat, the pace of his hips losing momentum as he nears his high.
you lose your balance, letting go of your chest to catch yourself as you fall onto hands and knees but don’t dare let up on working bakugou with your mouth. you shiver, thin material of your underwear caught between your sticky pussy lips as you’re exposed to cool air once again. the tips of your ears burn as people start to notice your glistening heat, capturing bakugou’s attention even as he’s close to cumming.
“god, she’s soaked.”
“if he doesn’t fuck her cunt soon, then i will.”
it makes him livid to hear such unworthy low life’s talk about his property like that, at his ceremony for his twenty-first birthday. how dare they? who the fuck do they think they are? katsuki glances back down at you again, watching as you struggle to breathe from his cock down your throat and all it takes is the look of need in your eyes for the cord in his lower belly to snap. “shit baby, fuck—“ he shouts, creaming your sweet mouth for all to see. “suck that cock, suck it dry, fuck—! show ‘em who you belong to.”
you swallow every last drop of cum as katsuki hits cloud nine, white colours of rage and euphoria flashing behind his commanding eyes. you milk him for all his worth, tasting his sweet essence across your tongue and for a second you forget every doubt you had about becoming an offering as the image of your king painting your mouth with his seed becomes ingrained in your mind.
the moment doesn’t last long, for you’re ripped off of his dick by the hair— milky white staining your chin and tits and bakugou is manhandling you back down to the crowd, letting them see how filthy you are. bakugou strips the rest of his shirt and shoves his pants lower behind you, throwing his shirt across the stage and earning a few hoots from members of your clan below— you’re breathless and a hot mess, sprawled out on the cold concrete. you’re thankful for the break, trying to sit up and recover from his toughness before a hard leather boot lands on your shoulder, keeping your back arched and you pinned to the floor.
“y’see this needy little bitch?” katsuki puffs his chest, staring at his people—the cat callers more specifically— in an accusing manner. they nod with fear rolling off of their bodies in waves as he grips your hair, yanking your head up. “she’s fuckin’ mine, and if you dare say a fuckin’ word about my cunt again? i’ll kill you and feed you to the fuckin’ dragons. get that through your thick, shitty skulls.”
his possessive warning sends your pussy into a series of flutters, juices of arousal dripping from your hole and staining the ground beneath you. it’s rough against your skin, probably marking you up and grazing your softness— but the pain feels good and you whine out for your mate, desperate for something; anything from him to ease your needy pain. “f-fuck— suki, p-please i—“ you resort to begging, no longer caring about the many pairs of eyes on you— nor about your values either. “please, please please—!”
a hand flies across your face, stinging your chubby cheeks and making a fresh set of hot tears burn at your bambi eyes. “thought i fuckin’ told ya to call me yer fuckin’ king, slut. or do i have ta teach ya that too?” as soon as the stinging is gone, he’s rubbing at the sore area before he’s pushing your face back down to the ground. “gonna have ta show all these people who you belong to sweet girl, gotta fuck you until cum for me ‘n all of these worthless, pathetic fucks know that your cunt is mine and mine a fuckin’ lone.”
your audience remains intrigued and you drip down the backs of your thighs, craving to be touched and roughed up more. your brain crackles with electricity and anticipation sits heavy in the air as katsuki kneels beside your head and his fingers dance down your spine until they meet your juicy, fleshy ass.
a heavy hand comes down against your ass cheeks, making you squeal and your breath hitch. “y’ want my fingers in that tight hole of yours, my pretty little slut? gonna stretch you out for a fat cock. you’re gonna be so tight around me, can already tell,” bakugou pinches at the base of your spine then tears through your panties, watching with amusement as your hips jump up before he spreads your cheeks and leans back to spit directly into your hole. you clench right after. “so greedy, ‘course you fuckin’ do. tell me you want it.”
“i want it, wan...want your fingers…” you pant, drool sloshing around in your mouth.
the blonde shakes his head, spitting again and landing another spank. “beg for it you greedy bitch.”
“oh god—please! need your fingers inside me, my king, can’t—please, oh please—!” the words pass from your lips in incoherent babbles but your mate seems pleased, sliding his fingers lower and lower down to your slit.
“louder, tell your people what you want from your fuckin king.”
twitching under his boot, your hips rut you into the air with heavy impatience— causing the blonde holding you down to smirk in amusement. “please use your fingers on my dirty cunt, m-my king, can’t hold it anymore— ‘m desperate please!” you practically scream, the tail end of your words catching in your throat as katsuki pushes two of his thick fingers past your entrance, immediately scissoring them once they breach your gummy walls.
your cunt is so fucking hot, so fucking sticky, the juices that pour from it viscous like sweet honeys. you cry out, lips pushing into a messy, wet pout while you clamp down on the digits pressing against your inner walls. “christ sweetheart, yer cunny’s drippin’ all over me— ya really get this wet from suckin’ your first cock?” katsuki moans breathily in your ear, grinning as your eyes cross and you become dazed.
“yes,” you hiccup, drunk on the way your virgin hole stretches over the two fingers inside them. you gush all over them when they curl in search of your g spot— your hips pushing back against bakugou’s palm which grinds against your puffy clit deliciously. “feels s’good, so good, ‘m so wet m-my king— oh! fuck—more, please more!“
you’d never felt pleasure like this in your entire life, not even your hand against your sex in the dead of the night had felt as good as this. wet, squishy sounds fill the air, coming straight from your hole with the push and pull of his fingers. “shut the fuck up.” bakugou grunts, watching strings of your arousal stick to his fingers while he pulls them out of your hole to show the crowd. “who the fuck is she s’wet for?” he asks them, grinning as the men up front cower in fear. they stop their hands in their pants as you quiver— knowing that if they don’t answer you won’t get the release you’re craving for.
“y-you, chief bakugou.”
he brings his fingers to his lips, smearing your slick against them to get a taste of what he’ll have access to for the rest of his life. katsuki is nasty, dirty, so fucking filthy—lifting his boot from your back to tug you up by your hair again as he pulls you up to his face, leaning in just like last night. his lips brush against yours, hot breath fanning against them as he speaks. “isn’t that right baby, you ‘n your stupid cunt are soaked for me, yeah?  s’all for fuckin’ me…” bakugou tilts his head, focused on the twitches of your face. “bet you want me to eat that cunny of yers too...”
“s’all for you suki, please eat me...” you mumble, chest heaving at your proximity. bakugou licks over his bottom lip before feverishly pressing them against yours— forcing you to taste yourself on him. you sigh, eagerly sucking on his bottom lip and biting down on it hard when his fingers end up circling your puckering hole once again.
“fuck no, you’d be a nasty, greedy little bitch if you think ‘m eatin’ you out here,” the blonde growls, only just pulling away from your spit covered lips. “ya’get what yer fuckin’ given, got that?”
you whimper in agreement before being yanked back onto katsuki’s mouth.  your teeth and tongue clash in a dirty, filthy kiss— spit swapped between your mouths with the taste of one another’s arousals on your tongues. the pad of his thumb press roughly into your swollen clit, your shrill and cute whines becoming more and more addictive as they twist with the sounds of your silken heat.
“you’re so fuckin’ naughty, takin’ my fingers like this in front of all these people. tryna be my good mate but yer jus a stupid, needy bitch who wants to cum for me.” bakugou manages between kisses, sliding his tongue lazily against yours and using it to push his spit into your mouth at the same time as his scarred digits press down hard on your pleasure spot. your gummy walls clamp down on him, forcing more of your nectar down your thighs. “christ, you like being talked to like that, like yer my worthless whore. hah?”
you nod, it’s all you can do as you feel your high approaching you rapidly. honeyed whines breach the night air, sounding out loudly against the cheers and hoots from katsuki’s people—your people. “w-wanna cum for my king,” you babble, back arching and hole growing tighter and tighter around the fingers pleasuring you. “‘m so close, ‘m yours, worthless ‘n yours—!”
bakugou begins to cackle into your kiss, the flavour of your juices fading before he forces your face back under his boot and starts pumping his fingers into you at a brutal pace. “then cum for me, little one.” he orders and your body naturally responds, the coil in your stomach finally snapping as thousands of colours and shades without names dance behind your eyes. your body shakes violently as your orgasm washes over you— sucking the air out of your lungs as your pussy selfishly keeps katsuki’s fingers locked in against your walls. “atta fuckin’ girl,”
you release a shrill scream and you cum so hard that you practically black out, not registering the way katsuki sets himself on the ground in front of  you and manipulates your body into position— still twitching as he gathers you in his arms.
you come down from your high only to have katsuki positioning himself at your entrance, his pants hang low on hips but he doesn’t dare remove them. you didn’t even notice the stark difference in your modesties until it was too late, for now his cock slides up your wet, over stimulated pussy— prodding at your puckered entrance while he holds you against his sweaty chest. you’re spent, sleepy from the orgasm he pulled from you and latch onto his pec to pacify yourself, sucking on the skin gently while he rubs his tip over your clit, slapping it a few times.
“c-can’t,” you croak out, thoughts mushy and blurred in your brain— barely thinking as you wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself. your thighs meet his clothed ones while he kneels with you in his lap, the rough material against your bare skin adding to your sensitivity. “s’too much, katsuki i can’t—“
his hands fall against your ass, gripping the peachy flesh as he uses it to press your bodies flush together. bakugou’s dick breeches your walls, sloppy and bathing him in your sweet nectar. it drips down his balls, mixing with his own arousal that oozes from his hardened cock again. “you can’t, you can’t. does it look like—“ the blonde’s mocking breathing stutters while he gets accustomed to your iron hot walls that stretch over him. “does it look like i give—shit yer tight— like i give a fuck?”
you know the answer, letting a whine bubbling up on your pouted lips and shake your head— falling into a cock haze. your earlier release makes it easier for him to push his way into your hot cunt, hissing through his teeth as he bottoms out. sleepily, you gaze down to where your bodies join, squeezing down hard at the sight of his fat cock at the base of your tummy. you’re bulging from the size of him and he hasn’t even started moving yet.
katsuki himself can’t even think straight, buried deep in your velveteen walls that grip him so nicely— being inside a pussy had never felt so heavenly as it did right now, making him moan lowly into your ear as he pulls back his hips to give an experimental thrust. your syrupy cunt accepts him warmly and you buck back against him— causing choked whimpers to tumble from both of you. “yer suffocatin’ me baby, fuck— i outta fuck ya loose… mould your cute cunny into the shape of my cock,” bakugou slurs, eyes fluttering shut while he pushes deeper into you.
“s-so deep,” you mumble to him, tiredly dragging your lips across his collar bones— mapping out every dip and scar in his skin. you’ll need to get used to them, find what makes him tick if you’re going to be able to please him like this again. “more, more, need more of you,” you chant to bakugou, sinking your teeth into his neck to hold in your pathetic cries. he sets a pace, starting slow at first as if to let you adjust.
but you beg him so sweetly, moving your own hips to take more of the blonde into you— he couldn’t deny you of having your cunt destroyed in front of everyone, not when you were so reserved before, and now you were opening up for him like a blossoming flower. your sticky thighs wrap around his slender waist, bruised from moving against the sharp leather of his pants. god you fucking deserve this, to have your body claimed and worshipped in front of your clan— you need to be claimed and shown that you’re wanted. and katsuki bakugou was going to give you that.
“more, y’want more? then fuckin’ look at them— look at your people while i fuck you.” he draws his head back to look at you, ruby lined eyes authorative as the shallow thrusts bakugou gives you start to pick up, harsh and wet as your skin starts to slap against one another and the clan start to grow angsty as you both approach the last hurdle. katsuki has ruined you, for better or for worse you don’t know, but you lift your head from his now bruised neck and shoot your stare out to the crowd, bouncing on his lap as your hardened nipples brush against one another.
the air between your sweaty bodies is thin but layered thickly with arousal— viscous juices of your sexes dirtying everything that he still wears. bakugou watches your face twist with new euphoria with every roll of bakugou’s hips upwards into yours, his girth pushes against your g-spot and in that moment, a saccharine cry paints your cherry lips. the very sight of you deep in pleasure because of him sends waves of dopamine over his brain— he gets to make you feel this way for the rest of his life.
because you’re his, his mate.
his mate who one day he’s going to fill with pups to carry on his legacy. breeding you makes his red eyes cross, the clan before him becoming blurry as he fucks into your addictively gluttonous hole. the tip of his dick creates friction against the ridges of your insides and he can’t help but spread is thighs to spread you wider— ploughing further into the deepest parts of you, that now belong to him. “you’re fuckin’ mine,” he growls more so to himself than you, “my bitch, mine. gonna breed you ‘n stuff ya full— god you’d like that, fer me to cream in your cunny ‘n show the world that you’re mine,”
“want you to cum in me,” you affirm, tipping your head back in a sweet simper. “c-cum in me my king, want it more than anythin…” you give into him as bakugou’s hands travel from your ass to your thighs, scratching and pinching at any part of your flesh that he could reach. you’re sure that the pads of his finger tips have burned bruises into your waist when he begins to lift you up and down on his dick— stirring up your insides with your chests pressed hotly against one another.
weakly, you lift and drop your hips against him— forgetting about the world around you both. your parents, the ceremony, the people— it’s just you and bakugou as he fucks up into you harder, faster, needier. thoughts of him spilling his cum into you and breeding you as his fill his mind and one of his large hands drop to your waist to take control of your pace above him. “stop movin’, let me fuck you deeper,” he snarls, the strokes of his cock inside you increasing in pace. “stay fuckin’ still.”
you make a gurgling noise of protest, back arching as katsuki swirls his hips in circular motions— bearing down harshly on your g-spot. “please, ‘m gettin’ close,” you slur sleepily, looking at him with hooded eyes. your hands push through his blonde locks, tug on his jewellery until it snaps and the beads shatter across the stage— you grab at him anywhere and everywhere to get him to come closer, to make you cum. you forget about the shell neckpiece you’d made for him
heat flashes through your body as katsuki’s freehand comes crashing down on your throat— dwarfing you in his arms as the world falls away. the lack of oxygen numbs your body and your brain, not a thought between your eyes except for the cock that wetly pounds at your hole, abusing it over and over again. “yer gonna cum while i choke you, take my fuckin’ cum while you’re dumb and breathless over me—“ katsuki makes the choice for you, his own words punctuated by his desperate and needy tone. you feel him throb in your power belly, pulsing with your heat that warns you of his own impending orgasm. you gush at the feeling, bringing a devilish smile to bakugou’s sweat licked face. “you get s’wet when choke you, when i slap you about, god— fuck….” he whines, dizzy from your tightness.
the sound of your king whimpering is what drives you off the cliff and straight into release— the deep husky sound filling your ears and revitalising your numb senses. “k-katsuki-!” you scream, mouth hanging open in a loud, moan while you ascend to cloud nine— your eyes roll far into the back of your head, spraying bakugou’s pelvis with your essence. the hand on your hip drops to your tired, worn out pussy— flicking your clit in rough, speedy circles to draw out your orgasm. you don’t stop cumming, more and more of your release slipping out from between your folds until you’re a shaky, faint mess.
bakugou doesn’t let up with us thrusts, although their pace becomes sloppy and languid while his balls slap heavily against your ass. “shit, make me cum, greedy bitch— fuck my cock, fuck my cock— fuuuck,” he chants, orgasm taking over him as he pumps you full of his sticky, potent seed. katsuki fills your pussy up to the brim, lining your walls with thick white to the point of it spewing down your glazed, doughy thighs. you slump in his arms, trying to stay awake as katsuki pushes his cum deeper and deeper into your cunt, making you twitch from the overstimulation.
“fuck, you’re so good…” bakugou praises, his soft voice filling your ears despite the earnest claps from his family and subjects alike. you collapse into his chest, practically passing out in a post orgasm haze— the last thing you remember is the blonde growling at anyone who dared tried to separate him from you...his mate.
his.
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the next time you wake, you’re no longer on the stage with hundreds of people watching you being fucked and degraded by their king. instead, you rise from masses of animal furs with fresh garments adorning your body and a warm fire crackling to your left. the insides of your thighs burn and you peer between them only to see that you’re clean and the skin there appears slightly tender and swollen, bruised from katsuki’s fingertips.
“you’re awake.”
the words are more of a statement than a question, gruff and stern as they slip past your mate’s lips. you barely manage to rub the sleep from your eyes before bakugou is shoving a bowl full of something that smells so good into your face accompanied by a curious face and eyes laced with concern.
you take the food, staring at the warm orange-red liquid as it sloshes in the bowl before wolfing it down— you’re hungrier than you anticipated. “where am i?”
“didn't anyone ever teach you not to eat with yer fuckin’ mouthful?” katsuki scolds, dropping his worried glance as his face morphs into mild disappointment. you nod, an embarrassed heat sparking at the tips of your ears and slow your roll. “you’re in my room,” you choke on the spoonful of soup you have in your mouth and bakugou smirks. he’s annoying. “you passed the fuck out after you came and they wanted to take you away to clean you up. so i refused, did it my fuckin’ self.”
“oh,” you say flatly, unsure of why he would do that for you. just a mere offering, made to please and to serve. “why?”
bakugou stands opposite from you, his large, trained boy shifting with irritation but you can tell for some reason he’s trying to keep cool. “because.” he mumbles petulantly, looking everywhere in his room but you.
“because, why?” you press again, slowly slurping the soup he’d given you.
growing tired of your antics, bakugou lunges for the bowl of soup in your hands causing you to whine out a ‘hey!’ in protest— his strong, scarred arms flex when he cages you in next and you can practically hear his chest rumble as he snarls out. “because i’m your mate, because you’re mine.” he breaths hotly, gaze zeroing in on you. “didn’t i already tell ya to stop askin’ me so many damn questions?”
that was not the answer you were expecting. in fact, quite the opposite and you look down with a huff to avoid the blonde before you. “but isn’t that, what i’m supposed to do for you?” all your life you’d been taught that it was your job to take care of the chief, the dragon king or queen. you were taught to fill their every desire, sexual or mundane but never had you known that they could try to return the gesture.
katsuki is trying, lifting his head to look up at you. you can’t read his face, too many emotions flying across it at once but he’s still as close as he was that night, his lips a breaths width from your own. the fire crackling in his room illuminates his face with amber hues, some swirling with the brilliant red in his eyes. he’s trying.
“y’really must be a little stupid huh?” bakugou smiles lazily, still having you locked between your arms— close enough to see your face twist with mild annoyance. “you’ve seen my parents right? my dad was an offerin’ too, mom chose him and there isn’t anythin’ in this fuckin’ world she wouldn’t do for him.” he pauses to read your expression again before continuing. “now, i don’t know whatcha been taught at that dumbass camp...but there ain’t anythin’ to say that we dragon chiefs, leaders or whatever the hell you wanna call us can’t care for our mates.”
your breath hitches at bakugou’s next words. “that we can’t learn to love ‘em too.” his cheeks flame at the admission, cherry red flying up to the tips of his while a flutter bursts through your heart.
he wants to care for you, wants to love you.
“then why me?” you ask your final question, knowing that he’d grow irritated with you and shift on the bed— inviting katsuki to sit with you. for a moment he’s bewildered but quickly joins you, sitting impossibly close to you so much so that you feel the heat of his skin against yours and instinctively curl into him.
bakugou’s arms come down against you hesitantly, pulling you further into his chest as his brain dizzies with affection. neither of you are used to this, being so close to one another— even if you did fuck on stage in front of all of your subjects. this was a new level of intimacy.
“i chose you ‘cause  you were different,” the dragon king starts by explaining. “the night we met weren’t the first time i’d been to the camp. i’d snuck in before to meet the other offerin’s, dressin’ up as one of yous just to see what you were like,”
you curl further into the burning heat of his chest, listening to him talk. bakugou is dressed more casually now— skin covered by a cotton shirt similar to yours but he still wears the shell necklace you gave him, you can tell it was reassembled, barely surviving your wreckage but it still makes butterflies fill your tummy.
“they all thought the same ‘bout my ceremony, my birthday. they all just wanted to serve me...but you…” bakugou looks down to you, admiration splayed out on his features as he does. “you had an opinion, you were scared like i was. you kept me on my toes and— i knew if i wanted to spend the rest of my life mated to an offerin’ it was goin’ta be you.” there they were, those butterflies again. “if i wanted someone stupid, i woulda just fucked them— which i did with you. but i also wanted to show ya that you were wanted, i wanted you.”
your stomach is in flips as you mull over his words, you weren’t just some stupid girl to him. something to fuck because it was his day and his ceremony, you were wanted by him and that was that. “t-thank you katsuki, i-i don’t even know what to say.” you admit shyly. “i’ll be a good mate for you and…i’m sure i’ll learn to love you too.
he grins, genuinely before pulling you to straddle his lap and letting his hands rest over your thighs— drawing sweet shapes into them. “finally gotcha to shut up, huh?” bakugou hums pridefully, eyes honing in on your parted lips. “don’t thank me, say nothin’. just know i meant what i said at the ceremony. yer mine. no one’s takin’ya from me.”
you nod slowly, giving in to the way he stares at your lips and press a slow, passionate kiss against his. katsuki cups the back of your head with one hand and clutches your hips from underneath your loose shirt while you grab a fistful of his, keeping him impossibly close until you both come up for air.
“you’re mine too, katsuki, my king, my mate, mine.” you say breathlessly, happily— a smile spreading across your cherry lips.
“damn right i am,” he says cockily, making you roll your eyes. bakugou lifts you from his mass of warm furs, taking you into his arms before laying down with you on top— holding you to him possessively. you don’t know how long you stay awake with him like that, talking about everything and nothing at all. but you want this, for the rest of your life. you want him.
so as sleep begins to take over your bodies again, katsuki’s comforting caramel scent filling your senses while you cuddle into your mate— you manage to speak as the minutes of his birthday fade away into the next dawn. “happy birthday, katsuki,” you say warmly.
you feel him squeeze you tighter as the world falls away and nothing else remains. it’s  just katsuki bakugou and his mate and the budding love between them.
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— TAGLIST:
@shiggysvixen  @gh0ulte4rs
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lianawrites · 3 months ago
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MHA Boys Catch Mineta Perving On You Pt. 2
Ft. Kirishima, Denki, Iida, Sero x fem!reader
Warnings: Swearing, sexual harassment, violence, mentions of death, Mineta hatred (really, I write these things purely to let off steam about how much I hate that guy)
Notes: I just wanted to say a huge thank you for the amount of support that part one got. I honestly never expected so much positive feedback, since it was something I just spat out because I was bored. 
Also I apologise for my very clear Sero-bias in this post. I have such a soft spot for that man, it’s unbelievable. 
Part 1
Ejirou Kirishima
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Looking back, you should probably have seen it coming. After all, Mineta hadn't changed at all in your three years at UA. So why would you think he'd be any different at your graduation?
As a final farewell, Classes A and B had gotten together to organise one last gathering before you were all released into the real world. And unlike most things the Hero Course students did together, the planning and execution of the party had gone spectacularly.
Before you knew it, your last night as UA students was drawing to a close.
You could already feel the muscles in your face beginning to ache with how much you had smiled in the last couple of hours, however it did nothing to dissuade from your good mood. The party had been amazing, the final few hours spent with your friends before becoming full-fledged pro-heroes were invaluable and you were excited to head into life outside of school.
Your boyfriend, Kirishima, grinned at you from where he sat beside you on one of the common room couches. He'd been by your side all night, something you didn't mind as much as you thought you might. After all, it wasn't every day you go to share a few hours of pure, uninterrupted fun.
Kirishina leaned forward slightly to put his nose close to your ear. "Have I told you how beautiful you look right now?" he said in a low voice.
You giggled. "At least four time, Eji."
Kirishima flushed at your words but shrugged modestly nevertheless. "Well it’s true. It's not my fault you’re so-"
He was cut off by a yell from Denki, who stood at the other side of the room, near the communal kitchen. "OI, Kiri! Come do a shot with me?"
Kirishima's eyebrows furrowed. "A shot of what?" he yelled back. "We're not supposed to drink alcohol yet."
"It's tabasco!" Denki replied excitedly. "I found some in the fridge!"
Kirishima shook his head for a moment before pecking you sweetly on the cheek. "I'd better go make sure he doesn't die," he said in an exhausted tone, though you could see the excited sparkle in his eyes.
You waved him off with a smile, chuckling to yourself as you watched him rush excitedly over to where his friend was standing.
For the next five minutes, you were so ingrained in watching him mess around with Denki, you almost didn’t notice when the couch dipped beside you as someone sat down. You did notice, however, when hot breath suddenly rushed over the skin of your neck, sending shivers across your skin. 
“i never told you this,” came a disgusting voice right beside your ear. “But I’ve always thought you had the nicest boobs out of all the girls in the class.”
You jerked away from the voice, glaring in shock and fury at Mineta. The disgusting boy smirked back at you. 
“I mean it,” he said smugly before you could chew him out. “I’ve been staring at your tits since first year. I really like that dress by the way.” He leaned forward slightly and you swore you could see drool pooling in the corner of his mouth. “it gives me the perfect view down your cleav-mfff!”
You jumped in surprise when a hand seized Mineta suddenly by the front of his collar. 
“You really are the most disgusting human ever!” spat Kirishima from where he towered over both you and the trembling grape. Raising Mineta into the air with ease, Kirishima turned him to face you. “Now. Fucking apologise.”
“Ggah!” Mineta gargled in fear, kicking his legs which dangled pathetically in the air. 
Kirishima’s grip didn’t waver. “Apologise,” he growled again in a tone so dangerous you almost didn’t recognise him.
“Ngh... I’m...sorry,” Mineta spluttered out, gasping for air as Kirishima’s grip on his collar constricted his airway. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I promise... ah, I promise I won’t do it again!”
Kirishima gave him one last shake before dropping him back to the floor, where he lay spluttering. With a snort, your boyfriend stepped over his trembling figure and sat down next to you once again. “God, am I glad I won’t have to see you anymore now that we’ve graduated,” he sighed out before tapping Mineta with his toe. “Get the fuck out of here, you little pervert.”
Mineta didn’t need to be told twice and hastily scrambled out of sigh, leaving Kirishima free to place his forehead gently against your shoulder. “I’ve been waiting to do that since the first time I caught him staring at you,” he breathed out and you relaxed at the return of his usual soft voice. A shaky chuckle escaped you. “You should have. I don’t think anyone would have have a problem with it.” Your skin was still crawling from the encounter. 
Kiri grunted in agreement. Then he raised his head to give you a once over, his eyes wide and worried. “Are you alright though, gorgeous? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left you at all-”
You kissed him quickly before offering him a smile. “I’m alright, just disgusted. Thank you for dealing with him.”
“Any time, gorgeous,” Kirishima grinned and winked at you. Then he stood up. “Now come dance with me!”
Denki Kaminari
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When Mr Aizawa had announced that the whole class would be taking a week long trip to attend a hero gala, you thought that you’d finally get a break from the near constant harassment from one perverted grape. 
Oh, how wrong you were.
Upon arriving at the hotel that had been picked to house the whole of UA’s hero course, you were delighted to find that you were to be roommates with your two best female friends, Jirou and Mina. Almost immediately after getting settled into your spacious hotel room, Mina suggested taking a trip to the hotel’s hot tub, something that neither you nor Jirou could say no to after spending an entire day in a bus. 
The situation was made even better when you arrived in the pool area of the hotel and realised that your boyfriend, Denki, and his four other idiot best friends were already messing around in the pool. 
You waved to them as you walked past on the way to the hot tub. Denki let out a playful wolf-whistle in reply and blew you a kiss before going back to playing chicken with Kirishima, Bakugou and Sero. 
You let out a sigh of relief when you finally slid into the hot tub, a sigh that was matched by your two best friends on either side of you. “I needed this,” Jirou groaned out, her eyes closed in content. 
“No kidding,” agreed Mina. “School has been kicking my ass lately.”
“At least we get a break from lessons for a week,” you said, letting your eyes close as you sank deeper into the steaming water. “Now, all we need is to not get attacked by-”
“Hellooo, ladies.”
Your blood ran cold at the sound of the drawling voice of the one classmate you did not what to see right now (or ever, for that matter). 
“Go away, Mineta,” Jirou growled through gritted teeth. 
You opened your eyes, preparing to add your own biting remark in hopes of scaring off the perverted boy. However before you could form words, your breath hitched in your throat when you felt a horrifying squeeze at your chest. Your eyes met Mineta’s, who you now realised was standing just behind you with his arm reaching over your shoulder.
With a squeak, you slapped violently at Mineta’s hand in a desperate attempt to get him away from you. The boy chuckled menacingly but, thankfully, he retreated. You too moved as far away from him as you could, sandwiching yourself between your two friends in fear. 
“You little-!” Mina spat, her eyes burning. She was about to advance on the smaller boy when another hand appeared out of nowhere, gripping Mineta tightly by the shoulder. 
You blinked in surprise when you realised that it was none other than Denki who now stood behind Mineta. He was soaked to the bone, having obviously just hauled himself out of the pool, and for one of the first times in your relationship with him, his expression held nothing but malice. 
Leaning down in order to get eye level with the smaller boy, Denki gave him a piercing look. "You know I have complete control over your life right now, right?."
Mineta gulped, wincing as Denki's grip on his shoulder tightened. "I..."
"It only takes between one hundred and two hundred and fifty volts of electricity to kill someone," Denki mused in a voice so calm it almost scared you. "Do you know how many volts I'm capable of producing on a day to day basis, Mineta?"
Again, Mineta could do little more than stutter.
"Two million.” Denki smirked then. "And I'm still improving." He allowed his words to hang in the air for a second and you had to smother your snort of laughter as you watched the blood drain from Mineta’s face.
Then any mischief dropped from Deki's expression and his eyes turned stony and cold as he said, "If you ever look at any of them again... my hand just might slip, Mineta. Now get out of here." 
As soon as his grip loosened, Mineta scrambled away. You watched as he rushed out of the pool house before turning to Denki. The boy had a slightly sheepish look on his face now that he was faced by the gazes of not only you but your two friends as well.
"Sheesh, Kaminari," Jirou said, an eyebrow raised. "I never expected that from you."
"Well, I..." Denki chuckled awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck. "I saw what he was doing and it really pissed me off so I thought-mff!" He was cut off as you rose to your feet and drew him into a hug.
"Thank you," you murmured into his ear, hugging his body tightly against yours. "Thank you for making him stop"
Denki chuckled awkwardly and without even having to see him, you knew he was blushing. Cautiously, he set his hands on your waist. 
"What, did you expected me to just sit back and watch? Have a little more faith in me, Munchkin," he chuckled out.
You pulled back and gave him a soft smile. "Of course, Kami." Then you ruffled up his wet hair, grinning at the way his face scrunched up. "Now go back to your idiot friends."
Denki grinned lopsidedly back at you. Then he kissed you cheek lightly and mumbled out "See you later," before rushing back towards where Sero, Kirishima and Bakugou were waiting in the pool.
You giggled as, with a whoop, he did a full flip into the water, drenching the three other boys in the process.
Tenya Iida
I changed the premise slightly for this one because I felt it was getting repetitive. Also, I apologise if I didn't get Iida's character exactly right - this is the first time I've written anything relatively detailed for him.  
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Although you didn't want to admit it to yourself, this probably wasn't your smartest idea.
Almost everyone living in Heights Alliance knew by now that if you were female and wanted to shower, you had to do it when Mineta was out. It was a sad truth, however, despite having been an issue for the better part of two years now, no one had managed to find a way to legally restrain Mineta.
Looking back, you supposed you shouldn’t have taken the risk. 
It was a heart stopping moment, realising that both your clean and dirty clothes were gone from the place you’d left them after exiting your shower. It was even more blood curdling to realise that Mineta was probably - no, definitely- the culprit, and was almost 100% granted to be standing outside the door to the girls’ showers at that very moment, waiting for you to exit in just your towel. 
Disgusting as it was, it had happened before. 
Thankfully, Mineta had misjudged his attack that time and instead of swiping Tsuyu’s clothing as he had planned, he took Hagakure’s. 
You, however, were definitely not as comfortable with walking out into the common area practically naked as your invisible classmate was. 
So you did the only logical thing. You called your boyfriend. 
“Tenya?”
“Yes, sweetheart,” he replied immediately. You sighed in relief upon hearing his voice. 
“You’re in the dorms, right?”
“Yes?” Iida sounded confused. “Aren’t you? Why are you calling me?”
“Uhhh,” you scratched your head awkwardly, suddenly realising how much of an awkward position you were about to put your poor boyfriend in. “Well, uh, you see... I was taking a shower and... well... MinetastolemyclothesandnowIimstucknakedinthebathroom.”
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line. Then Iida cleared his throat. 
“Um, sweetheart, I couldn’t catch any of that.”
You sighed and blushed a deep red. 
“I’m stuck in the bathroom because Mineta took my clothes,” you repeated, slower this time.
There was no reply.
“And I’m pretty sure he’s waiting outside for me to walk out in just my towel,” you added as an afterthought.
“Mineta...did...what?!”
You blinked as the amount of - barely controlled - animosity in your boyfriend’s voice. It was incredibly rare for him to lose his composure in such a way, after all. 
“He’s done it before,” you explained quickly. “But it didn’t work so I didn’t think it’d be a problem anymore.”
You heard Iida let out a grating sigh. Then he said,”Give me a few minutes. I’ll bring you some clothes and deal with that...child.” (You got the distinct impression he was trying hard not to curse).
Then the line went dead before you had a chance to thank him. 
Five minutes passed in dreadful silence. You waited frozen in the bathroom, your ears pricked the entire time in anticipation of what would happen once your boyfriend arrived on the scene. Knowing Iida, it would mostly likely go one of two ways - either he’d be rational and drag Mineta to Mr Aizawa’s office. Or he’d lose his cool, something which you’d seen before and didn’t particularly want to see again.
You were pulled harshly out of your thoughts on the matter when there came a sharp knock on the door. Hurriedly, you pulled it ajar, just enough to peek your head out while still making sure your towel was wrapped securely around your body. 
The sight that met your eyes was both comical and terrifying at the same time. 
Iida had Mineta by the back of his collar and was holding him in the air with seemingly no trouble at all. The smaller boy was visibly trembling and had both tears and snot running down his face. In Iida’s other hand was a small bag, evidently full of your clothes. He held this out to you when he noticed you staring, his expression blank. 
You stood for a minute, wondering if you should step in and try to diffuse the situation. But then you looked back at Mineta’s disgusting face and decided you didn’t want to. 
With a sweet smile, you took the bag of clothes from your boyfriend. “Thank you!” you told him kindly. Then you flipped off Mineta before closing the door behind you. 
Once you were changed and could exit the bathroom properly, you were surprised to see a very relaxed-looking Iida standing in wait for you. Mineta was nowhere to be found.
“What did you do with him?” you asked curiously as the pair of you began to head in the direction of your bedroom. Iida gave you a relaxed smile. 
“I don’t believe that’s anything you need to worry about,” he said and despite the softness of his tone, you could hear the grit in his teeth. So you chose not to comment. 
Mineta had it coming, anyway. 
Hanta Sero
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The first time you were violated by the infamous pervert from the UA hero course was a day you both hated and loved to remember. 
Loved because you had gotten to spend a day with your boyfriend as a result of the incident. Hated because, well, the incident itself occurred.
Going to Shiketsu High School unfortunately meant that you weren’t able to see your boyfriend all that much. While meeting Hanta Sero at the provisional licensing exam in your first year had been one of the moments in your life you regularly thanked the universe for, you couldn’t deny that the stress of both having to hide you relationship from your school and try to keep in contact was hard to deal with.
This meant that when you did get time off to spend with Sero, you were incredibly unappreciative of any interruptions that might occur. 
One such interruption was someone you’d been told all about by your boyfriend, thought not someone you’d ever expected to meet in person.
On this particular day, you’d heard from Sero that he and a few classmates would be spending the day at a mall close to where you lived, in an attempt to buy decorations for the UA festival. Since it was so close by, you had offered to meet them there to hang out for the day, to which Sero had immediately agreed.
You had arrived slightly early and so decided to kill time by wondering through a few of your favourite shops. Humming quietly to yourself, you picked up a particularly cute sundress to admire it. 
A disgusting slurping noise suddenly sounded from behind you and you jumped and spun around to see a tiny, creepy looking kid with purple balls for hair staring up at you. He had string of drool running sickeningly down his chin and  had obviously been staring unabashedly at your ass before you’d turned around. Much to your horror, he refused to drop his gaze even when you made direct eye contact with him. 
“What the f-?” you began only to be cut off when he took another obnoxiously loud slurp of a smoothie that was in his hand. Then he said, “You have very sexy legs.”
Your eyes flew wide, caught off guard by the fact that he was so bold. 
The kid nodded, looking at you in approval and you were sickened by how much you felt like an object under his disgusting gaze. “Mm hm,” the boy hummed. “I’d give you an 8 out of ten at least. Maybe a nine if you showed some more skin.”
Anger spiked like lightening in your gut. “Who the hell do you think-!” you began to spit out at the smirking child. However you were cut off by a loud, exaggerated laugh. Both you and the child turned to see none other than your boyfriend standing a couple of meters away, his head thrown back as he chuckled. 
Your mouth fell slightly open in surprise as he sauntered forward. However his attention wasn’t on you and you realised as he got closer that his usually sparkling eyes were now filled only with a kind of ominous anticipation. Goosebumps rose on your skin. 
“Did you seriously just rate my girlfriend?” Sero snorted out once he reached you and the purple kid. The child in question paled under Sero’s intense gaze, his eyes flicking nervously between you and the taller boy. 
Without warning, Sero suddenly raised his arm and encased the child in tape, essentially wrapping him up like a burrito until nothing but his face was exposed. You gasped. 
“Hanta!”
“Don’t worry, Lovebug,” Sero said calmly, offering you a grin. “This is the perverted little fucker I told you about. The one who doesn’t leave any of the girls alone.”
“You told this hottie about me?” the boy, who you now knew to be Mineta, squeaked and you were disgusting to see his entire body shiver even through the tape. “A hot girl from another school knew about me this whole time!”
“Shut the fuck up,” Sero said, giving the tape a tug. The jolt managed to rattle Mineta into silence and Sero turned back to you. 
“Are you okay? He didn’t touch you or anything did he?”
You shook your head. “I’m alright, he didn’t touch me. “ Your mouth curled into a scowl when you looked back at the drooling grape. “Can we please dump him in a trash can or something though? The way he’s staring at me is giving me the creeps.”
“Honestly, even a trashcan would be too good for him,” Sero let out a dejected sigh. “Let’s just leave him here. I doubt he can walk properly since his legs are taped together, so hopefully he won’t follow us.” 
“I’m right here!” squeaked Mineta in protest, wriggling frantically against the tape. “I can hear you!”
Sero gave him a blank look. “So?” The he turned to you and offered you his hand. “Come on, I wanna introduce you to everyone.”
You took his hand happily, giggling when he tugged you closer to press a kiss to your lips. “Also,” he added and you were happy to see the sparkle back in his dark eyes, “Hi.”
You laughed and kissed him again. “Hi, Hanta.”
“You look gorgeous today,” your boyfriend told you cheekily. “The rating that fucker gave you was bullshit, you’re at least infinity out of ten.”
You blushed profusely. “You’re so full of shit.”
“You love it.”
“I do.”
2K notes · View notes
wolfishwriting · 13 days ago
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MHA + walking in on you masturbating/humping a plush of them
Characters are all 20+ || requested: no
tw: fem!reader, touch starved reader, masturbation, brief mentions of anal play/anal plugs, the plushies are shaped like Squishmallows btw, hero kink, pet names, slight pet play in Aizawa's, roleplaying in Kaminari's, toy usage, not elaborated on but implied plus sized! reader, daddy kink, size kink
synopsis: they know they haven't been home lately, an increase in dangerous villains means an increase in work for your hero. you miss their touch, you've done your best to control yourself and your feelings, but you've grown to miss their touch too much. you couldn't help yourself, the ache in your thighs being too much to ignore anymore.
Midoriya was only coming home on his lunch break to pick up a new set of gloves, his current ones blasted to bits from a villain attack but Gods, he was so happy that he chose to come home; to see you like this.
What Midoriya wasn’t expecting to see you dressed in the hoodie version of his costume with the hood pulled up over your head with the little green bunny ears dangling down, black thigh highs adorning your legs devoid of any bottoms straddling a soft plush of himself. From where he stood he could clearly see the cute, emerald green plug nestled in your ass as you rock your hips into the toy.
A soft buzzing had been a constant sound since Midoriya crossed the threshold and only now had he realized the green vibrator from between your legs, your hands too preoccupied with holding open your pussy lips keening from the direct contact of the little toy on your clit.
“P-puppy...,” he whimpers at the sight. His cock immediately felt too hot and too confined without his trousers, straining against the flexible material. You jolt in surprise, eyes wide as you fall away from the sputtering toy. You immediately grab it and turn it off, throwing a blanket over your bare lap. He really didn’t mean to startle you but he couldn’t help himself, you just looked so beautiful like that!
“Z-zuku! I-I didn’t hear you come home… I’m sorry.” You mumble, eyes cast downwards fiddling with the frayed ends of the blanket feeling absolutely mortified.
He clears his throat. “I’m sorry, I’ve been leaving you alone and unsatisfied lately, haven’t I? You’ve been trying to get by on your own.” Midoriya approaches you, hands tugging down his belt and unzipping his fly to allow his leaky bare cock to spring free, thankfully having gone commando. “Let me fix that, Puppy… I’ve missed you.” He removes the blanket and carefully pushes himself in balls-deep with one fell swoop, toying with your clit all the way; cooing as you cum around his cock immediately.
Bakugou is both annoyed and thoroughly aroused by the sight of you, desperately bouncing on a translucent orange dildo strapped to a circular plush of him, with a matching orange gem plug in your ass, and a bullet vibe pressed to your clit. Your sloppy pussy squelches on the toy, allowing you to easily glide and accommodate the length that was an almost perfect replication of Bakugou’s cock and balls, almost.
He watches you for a moment, the sheer force and desperation behind your movements that makes your bed thud into the wall. Bakugou realizes the hoodie you're wearing is one of his own, black and embroidered with a large red X across the chest left unzipped and your chest naked to his gaze.
“Oi, brat! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” He hisses out with narrowed eyes, watching as you squeak and jump, effectively sinking fully down on the dildo. He approaches you with large steps, standing before you in an instant. His eyes narrow in on how your cute pussy flutters around that pathetic piece of plastic, your juices dripping and pooling down the silicone balls.
“K-Katsu!,” you move to stand but Bakugou keeps you down with a hand on your shoulder, the toy’s balls pressed snug to your cunt. His expression appears distant for a moment, a deep frown settled on his features.
His crimson eyes flick to yours and then he speaks. “I haven’t been around much, have I? I’m sorry.” He pets your head softly, removes his gauntlets, and climbs onto the bed with you; an obvious print bulging in his hero trousers. A wide grin spreads across his face. “Well then, let me see how you’ve been fucking yourself on this fake cock then, baby.”
Kirishima is in absolute awe, honestly. He’s so amazed with the way you rock your hips along the small red vibrator sandwiched between your pulsing delectable pussy lips and the plushie of himself. He watches the back and forth motion, the strain of the muscles in your thighs, and how your ass constricts around the pretty red heart-shaped plug he’d bought for you.
Arousal stirs in his pants, so happy he’s seeing you use all three things he’s purchased for you--he'd never would have dreamed you’d use them in this sort of manner but he's certainly not displeased. He’s already pulling himself free from his pants and boxers, arm braced against the door frame face nestled in the crook of his elbow, hand wandering down to fist his length. He squeezes from the base to his red tip, thumb circling his weeping slit.
His moan startles you from your daydream, turning to face him. His gaze is predatory and half-hidden from his arm, watching the steady rise and fall from your chest. With your body turned towards him he sees that you’ve left your hoodie unzipped, allowing your breasts to peek out from behind the soft material.
“Don’t you dare stop, little one. Daddy wants to see you cum around that toy.” Kirishima moans, head tilting back as he quickened his pace. Another moan spurs from your throat and you eagerly resume humping yourself against the toy, grasping the plushie of him to hold tighter to your sweaty skin.
“R-Red Riot,” you stare at him from behind your hair, looking completely mesmerizing. Kirishima groans and arches his hips into his fist.
“‘Atta girl, don’t you worry. Daddy Riot’s gonna take care of you so well, but first you need to cum on those toys. Make a mess. Daddy will buy you new ones.”
Fatgum thinks you’re napping at first glance, you’re snuggled close to a plushie of him wearing his signature yellow FG hoodie with your earbuds in. It’s about the size of a standard sized pillow but it’s round in all the right places, a more chibi-version of his happy-go-lucky hero form. A small smile is peppered on his face and then he notices the quirk of your hips, the subtle flex of your muscle when your thigh shakes.
His gaze lowers to the straps tied to the tide, hidden beneath your legs is where he spies the end of a yellow dildo. Nowhere near the same size of him but your pussy still parts deliciously for the monstrous girth, spearing yourself open laily in bed, humping yourself on a pillow of him. Your eyes are shut, tears spilling down your cheeks as your speed increases, rocking the bed softly. He quietly creeps towards the bed, taking in your form as you helplessly rut into the pillow like a dog in heat, the hoodie riding up and allowing him to see the pretty amber orange plug stretching out the little puckered ring of muscles of your ass. His knuckles caress your face, causing you to jolt upright; tearing your earbuds out in the process.
“Oh, my little sweet girl.. My Gummy Bear… Were you so desperate for Daddy’s cock that you couldn’t wait?” Taishiro frowns, realizing it had been a while since you two had actually made love. “Daddy’s sorry he’s left you all alone like this. You wanted to take things into your own hands, hmm? You suffered alone thanks to me.” He sinks down onto the bed, pulling you into his warm embrace.
“Daddy,” you whine softly, body molding and becoming pliant to his touch. Everything about him was warm and comforting. Taishiro hushes you gently, lifting you off the toy slowly. It falls out with a pop and rush of your fluids running down your legs. He settles you into his lap, your bare pussy right on top of his clothed bulge. The immediate heat that rolls off him is overwhelming, your cunt clenches around nothing and it only takes a few ruts of your clit bumping into his warm zipper to send you hurtling into a blissful orgasm.
He keeps you closely pressed to him, hand on the back of your neck as you ride out the aftershocks, thick fingers carding through your hair soothingly.
“I never meant to leave you alone like that, baby. I promise I’ll make it up to you. I’m here now.”
Kaminari feels himself practically vibrate with electricity, golden eyes widening in surprise at the view. You’re staring right at him, maintaining complete eye-contact, a flirtatious smile on your face. Your body is turned to him, dressed in his damned extra Chargebolt jacket completely unzipped and his signature choker with several necklaces layering down your bare chest--and nothing else. He’s got front row seats to how you eagerly sink yourself down on the transparent yellow cock that’s strapped down to the squishy plush that most stores mass-produced now.
“B-baby, what’s going on?” His eyes meet yours, surprise still evident and a heavy blush coats his cheeks like paint over a canvas. He’s already making his way to the bed, tummy doing flips.
Your lips curled into a pout, ceasing your actions. “You were taking too long, Chargebolt. A villain hit me with a lust quirk… My pussy’s been aching for you.” You mewl, reaching out to hook two fingers through one of his pants's belt loops and pulling him towards you. He could see through your acting, the teasing smirk on your lips making him know full well you’re only roleplaying with him.
Kaminari’s cock stands half-hard, pressing into his tight black jeans, begging to be let free from the scratchy confines. His mouth opens in a half moan when your mouth curves around his clothed bulge, hot breath fully encompassing him and making his mind become foggy.
He presses you down in the bed, pressing your knees back by your head and nearly fucking cums in his pants when he notices the cute yellow plug with a star-shaped gem end sticking out from your cute ass.
“Shit, babe.” His warm hands gently trace around the stretched skin. He throbs in his jeans, precum soaking through the fabric of his boxers. “I’m sorry for making my beautiful princess wait, I know it’s been a while. Allow me to make it up to you.” He grins, hands reaching down to his fly.
Aizawa only wanted to come home after a long morning of work. He just wanted to come home, take a hot bath, and relax with you but he realized the moment he walked into the bedroom you were going to make everything a little harder than it needed to be.
There you were in all your glory straddling his plush, his black hoodie pooled around your waist with his spare capture tool elaborately tied around your body to accentuate your curves. Your cunt was deep-seated on a black dildo, a tiny black vibe taped to your skin and secured directly above your clit.
“What’s all this, baby girl?” He purred, making his way to you in long strides. Aizawa cups your chin in his large hand, tilting your head up to face him. His free hand reaches up to stroke the faux black cat ears on top of your head. He thumbs at the black choker around your neck, fingertips brushing against the tiny silver bell. His hand trails from your neck, down the expanse of your chest, and to your thighs hidden beneath the black pleated skirt. A wide grin breaks out across his face when he takes notice of something.
“Oh, babygirl, look at you…” Aizawa’s deep voice rumbles in your ear, roughly pushing the skirt up and easing you onto your back. He spies the plug, tongue sneaking out of his lips to wet them. “You’re wearing the kitty tail plug I bought you. You look precious. I know Daddy hasn’t been giving you much attention lately. I know that’s stressful for you, I’m terribly sorry.”
He frees his capture tool that he’s wearing, allowing the material to tie around your lower legs. He grasps your sock-clad foot and grins at the little paw-pad print on the sole of the foot. Cute.
You stare up at him with a dopey grin, body vibrating with excitement, nipples perked and strained against the material of his scarf. Aizawa stoops down low to lap at the perked bud, sucking one into his mouth before releasing with a pop. “Alright, baby. You’ve been so good for me, such a good kitty and kitty needs her milk.”
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candy-hime · a month ago
Text
nice guy; izuku midoriya x reader
nice guy izuku puts you in your place😕😕
tw: hate sex, breathplay, degradation, possessiveness/3.2k words
“Oh, look!” Ochako nudges you. “He’s here!”
Izuku Midoriya's walking through the door, all bashful laughter and flushed cheeks. Everyone’s cheering in excitement; Denki, Eijirou, and Koda jostle past you as they join the crowd bunching up around the doorway.
“Izu!” Mei scoops the boy up into an enthusiastic hug. “We were just wondering where you were. C’mon, take a drink!”
Ochako places her red Solo cup on the counter. “I’m gonna go say hi! Wanna come?”
She bounces away towards Izuku before you have a chance to snap, no thanks, I’d rather drink Mineta’s special punch than voluntarily talk to him.
It’s no secret that you dislike Izuku. Momo and Mina insist that he’s the best guy ever, a human golden retriever! But his whole nice guy schtick is just so... boring. Hell, even your Microsoft desktop screensavers have more personality than he does.
At least they're fun to look at. Seeing Izuku’s smile just makes you want to give him a black eye.
“You made it!” Mina slurs, sloppily flinging her arms around Izuku’s neck. “Now the party can really start.”
He gives her that signature grin that’s so sweet you want to gag. “Happy birthday! I got you something- I really hope you like it.”
Mina dramatically gasps, staring at the taffy-pink gift bag that dangles from his arm. “Ohmygod, is that for me? That’s so nice!”
She frantically waves at you from across the room. “Can you put this on my dresser? I have to go take shots with Katsuki!”
Sighing, you sidle through the mob, pushing past drunken partygoers until you’re at her side. The full attention of Izuku’s gaze turns to you.
“You look beautiful,” he murmurs.
You pointedly ignore him.
“I know, she’s so hot! And she’s the best roommate ever,” Mina giggles. “She set up this whole party, even though she has, like, so much work to do. Literally the most amazing, most incredible girl-,”
“Mina! You said you’d take 21 shots for your 21st birthday!” Katsuki hollers from across the room. “Are we gonna do this or what?”
“Aah! Shots!” Mina flounces away to the kitchen, clumsily stumbling through the party in her platform heels. You fondly watch as Ochako places a shiny gold crown atop her pink hair. A birthday princess indeed.
You’re about to join them before you remember the boy standing behind you.
You turn. Izuku is patiently waiting for you- god, you want to punch that stupid smile off his face.
“I’ll take that,” you frostily tell him, holding out your hand.
“You did a good job,” he says. “The party’s... nice!”
You narrow your eyes. He isn’t even trying to be patronizing, yet the condescension oozes off his voice like bitter honey.
“Thanks,” you mutter. But when you reach for the gift, Izuku doesn’t let go.
“I’m serious,” he murmurs. His handsome features are arranged into a soft look, a perfectly arranged curl of hair falling over his brow. You’ve seen this expression before, used to soften disgruntled professors and unfriendly bouncers and brawling frat bros. “You did a great job.”
You blankly look up at him.
“Okay,” you deadpan.
And as you’re walking away, you swear you saw something flash across his eyes- something dark, furious- but there’s no way, he’s Izuku Midoriya and he’s capable of nothing but well-mannered politeness.
The stillness in your apartment after everyone leaves is almost disconcerting. Your friends are taking Mina clubbing downtown for a night of utter debauchery, promising they’re going to buy her every cocktail off the menu.
But the party's turned your apartment into a mess, and someone has to clean it all up.
Sighing, you hoist yourself off the couch and begin collecting empty cups. You’ll have to vacuum up the confetti on the floor and Swiffer over the sticky alcohol, but you’re just going to clear the clutter first-
The thud! of the door slamming open echoes through the air.
“Mina, did you forget something?” you ask, turning around-
You stiffen.
Izuku Midoriya is standing in your apartment, green hair ruffled and Lacoste shirt half-unbuttoned. The anger in his eyes isn’t what scares you- it’s the fact that you didn’t think he was capable of feeling anything but cheerful excitement. Now staring at you with an intensity so jagged it slices into your skin.
You unconsciously stumble backwards, knocking over an empty Solo cup. “What are you doing here?”
Izuku doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he slowly stalks across the kitchen, approaching you like a predator closing in on its prey. You are frozen in place as he corners you against the fridge.
The chilly steel against your bare skin- coupled with your growing anxiety- causes you to tremble beneath him; he’s so close you can smell the musky pine of his cologne and the tequila on his breath.
“What’s your problem?” he quietly asks.
You narrow your eyes. “Excuse me?”
“I want to know why you hate me.”
“I- I don’t- why do you even care?”
“Stop deflecting.”
Maybe it’s the remaining alcohol in your system, but a sudden burst of frustration floods your veins. “I treat you like a normal person,” you snap. “Sorry I’m not up your ass like everyone else.”
Izuku's tone is calm, even. “A normal person? You fling yourself at anyone that comes your way, but you can’t stand talking to me for more than two minutes.”
“Oh, yeah? And what would I talk to you about? You’re the most uninteresting person I’ve ever met,” you venomously spit.
His face remains neutral, and somehow, his lack of a response makes you even more irritated.
“Seriously, I’ve never met someone as fake as you are. You’re the most annoying stereotype of a nice guy.”
You draw your face closer to his, your eyes narrowed.
“You think people would like you, if you didn’t kiss up to them all the time? Maybe when you get a personality, I’ll- mph!”
Izuku’s stuffed his thick, scarred fingers in your mouth, so abruptly that your brain doesn’t process what he’s done for a few moments. Your eyes widen in shock.
“Shush,” he calmly says.
You let out a cry of indignation, trying to push his hand away, but he retaliates by shoving his fingers deeper down your throat. Tears spring to your eyes as you gag on his digits, your choked coughs causing drool to pool up around your lips.
Izuku’s features remain impassive, but there’s a quiet, twisted pleasure growing in his dark eyes as he stares down at your struggling form.
When he finally withdraws his fingers, you double over, violently gasping for breath. A cry leaves your lips as Izuku yanks your face upward, smearing your own spit over your cheeks.
“What’s the matter?” he cooes, sugar dripping off his voice. “You had so much to say a few minutes ago.”
“You’re- you’re insane,” you breathe. A heady mixture of fear and exhilaration is filling your head; Izuku’s unhinged, but he’s real- you’ve finally ripped away his mind-mannered veneer to uncover what’s underneath. It’s rotten and ugly and downright appalling, but it’s the most sincere thing he’s ever done.
And it’s like he can sense your terrified wonder, because his cruel smile grows wider.
“Oh, you’re excited, aren’t you?” he murmurs, thumb rubbing circles into your jaw. “Do you feel special because you’re the only one who’s seeing me like this?”
“No!”
Izuku pushes his fingers in your mouth again, hand still firmly holding your head in place. Embarrassment pricks at you when your body shudders in pleasure; he lets out a spiteful laugh. “At least try to sound more convincing.”
“You’re a sadistic little psycho,” you mumble through the rough pads of his fingers. “Everyone would hate you if they knew.”
“Good thing I have you then, hm?”
And then Izuku roughly manhandles you to the couch, yanks you down so you’re sitting atop him with your back to his chest. You didn’t realize how broad and muscular he was until you’re perched on his lap; under those oversized flannels and graphic tees was a man who easily overpowered you in a matter of moments. A firm hand closes around your neck, jerking your head back over his shoulder.
“Oh, fuck,” you moan when Izuku lips land on your neck.
“Thought you were better than this,” he rasps, aggressively biting and sucking at your sensitive skin. “Thought you hated me.”
Your naked breasts spill out of your bodice when Izuku’s ripping open your zipper, hands coarsely massaging your naked breasts. An embarrassing whimper tears from your throat as he circles your hardened buds, fingers smoothing over your skin before abruptly pinching your nipples.
“I d-do,” you breathe. “You’re the worst.”
He presses his forehead against yours, that nice smile returning to his lips again. A shudder runs down your spine- how has his kindness become so terrifying?
“Liar,” Izuku murmurs. “You’re making such a mess on my pants.”
You stubbornly deny it, of course; but by the time he’s pulled away your lace panties, there’s no use. White-hot arousal twists in your stomach as Izuku slowly moves his nimble digits between your wet folds, grazing your clit and then tracing your entrance in a steady pattern that causes the tension to melt out of your body.
His growing hardness presses against your back and it somehow heightens the ache in your lower body; you’re doing this to him, he’s warm and sweet but you’re drawing this hungry desire out of him.
“You know what I think?” he murmurs in your ear.
Your voice is breathy when you respond, “Yeah?”
“I think you’re just a dumb little girl who needs to be fucked.”
A pained scream tears from your throat as Izuku yanks your knees up to your chest, his bicep flexing as he wraps an arm around your legs to keep them in place. This time, when his fingers move to your entrance, he thrusts his two middle fingers into you.
“Izu- you’re- s’too much-,”
“C’mon baby. You had so much to say- you can take this, right?” Izuku laughs. “Haven’t even given you my cock yet.”
He’s pumping into you faster and faster, scissoring and curling his digits to stretch you out. The ache of your position coupled with his ministrations has you unable to differentiate between pleasure and pain- the pressure’s coiling up in your stomach as Izuku whispers honey-coated barbs in your ear, calling you his needy puppy and a desperate thing and being so terribly mean.
“Iz-Izu,” you plead. “More- need more... ah!”
You wince as he slaps your clit.
“You’re not calling the shots here,” he softly reminds you, breath hot against your neck. “You’ll take what I give you. Understand?”
When you don’t respond, he jerks your legs back even further, causing you to whine with the added stretch of your muscles.
“I said, understand?”
“Yes, sir,” you instinctively respond- and then flush embarrassedly. Izuku laughs, contempt shining over his features.
“Oh, no. Don’t tell me I’ve made you that scared already. Open.”
You obediently take his fingers in your mouth and suck your own juices clean. He’s looking down at you with hooded eyes, expression sinister as he watches you drool all over his hand.
“I could’ve been nice,” he utters. “Been trying to fuck you for a while- could’ve kissed you and praised you, called you a good girl. But I think you like being afraid. Hm?”
A pang of resentment hits your chest- god, you hate the fact that Izuku’s getting you off, hate the fact that he’s made you more aroused than anyone else ever has. Your ego’s smarting; how is wholesome, modest Izuku so skilled?
But you can save your shame for tomorrow morning. You simply stare up at him with watery eyes as your tongue caresses his fingers. Izuku’s gaze darkens at the sight.
“Fucking hell,” he swears, and he’s frantically working at his slacks, clumsily fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. His hands are trembling slightly- he’s nervous, he’s acting like he’s in control but he really wants you just as badly- and you’re desperately grinding down on his thigh as your anticipation becomes unbearable.
“C’mon, Izu, please,” you mewl. “I want- need you inside me-,”
“Yeah?” Izuku growls. He’s finally gotten his clothes off, revealing a toned body rippling with defined muscles. You want to trace his chest with your fingers, feel his torso beneath your palms- but the sight of his erect cock springing out of his boxers causes you to freeze.
For a moment, you simply blink down in shock, wondering what the fuck you’ve gotten yourself into.
Izuku smirks at your stupefied expression. “What’s wrong? Bigger than the loser fratboys you fuck?”
“N-No,” you breathe, forcing yourself to tear your gaze away.
“You’re so obvious.” He pushes you down on the couch, positioning his dick between your spread legs. A wanton moan slips through your lips as he rubs his dick against your dripping entrance until his length is coated in your juices. You lock onto his hypnotizing forest-green eyes.
“Still hate me?” he murmurs.
Your pride won’t let you respond with anything but, “Of course.”
Izuku smirks. “Thought so.”
And then he pushes into you, not allowing you a single moment to recover until he bottoms out. His throaty exhale intertwines with your strangled shriek; you feel so overwhelmingly full, stretched out so wide you could split in two. Through the numbing blankness in your mind, you sensed a hand closing around your neck.
“So tight, baby, shit,” Izuku says through gritted teeth. His curly hair hangs in his face as he gradually pulls out of you, his thick cock dragging against your plush walls. When he snaps his hips back into you it leaves your head spinning. Your hand travels up his forearm, grips his firm bicep.
“Faster,” you whimper. “Fuck me harder, keep going-,”
“Yeah?” A twisted pleasure burns in Izuku’s eyes as his pace intensifies, the sound of his dick squelching in your wetness echoing through the room. “You’re sucking me in, baby- like you want to cream around my cock-,”
You’re fervently chanting yes, yes, please stuff me full, your words devolving into mindless gibberish as he relentlessly fucks into you. His fingers had already brought you to the cliff but the sensation of his dick slamming into you- the stream of low swears and praises he’s whispering into your ear- the way your restricted air flow is blurring your consciousness- all of it is about to knock you off the edge of the precipice and send you tumbling into an orgasm.
And then he angles upward and you fucking see stars. Your cries grow even louder- “There, right there, fuck- feels so good-,” and your body feels like it’s going to give out-
Izuku abruptly stills.
“No!” you cry. Your pussy pathetically rubs against him, trying to elicit any friction to relieve you- but Izuku tightens his grip on your throat.
“Say you want me,” he murmurs.
Humiliation floods your body- your desire and ego furiously battle within your mind, both electrifying every one of your nerves.
“N-No,” you choke out. “I’m not gonna- I know you want this too-,”
If Izuku gave any indication of being nervous before, it’s utterly gone now. His calm, unaffected veneer has slipped back into place. If he wasn’t pulsing inside you right now, you’d think he was merely dealing with a stubborn pet.
“I can call any girl right now and they’ll drop everything to get me off,” he dispassionately utters. “Say it or I’m leaving.”
You’re mortified, so frustrated your eyes are welling up with tears. Shame fills your body as you rip your gaze away from his.
“You have ten seconds.”
“I want you,” you whisper almost inaudibly.
Izuku’s hand harshly yanks your head back up to face him. There’s a feverish delight pouring off him as he stares down at you.
“Say it again,” he demands.
Your body is shaking with soft, pathetic sobs; tears roll down your cheeks.
“I w-want you, Izuku,” you sniffle. “So badly.”
His forehead presses against yours, lips only a breath away.
“Who does this pussy belong to?” he softly asks.
“You.”
“Who’s making you feel this good?”
“You.”
“Do you need anyone else?”
Your voice is wobbly and high as you whimper, “No, only you.”
And Izuku’s flipping you onto your side, spooning your body so that he’s thrusting into you from behind, your limbs entangled with his. A near-hysterical wail rips from your chest as he pounds into you at an overwhelming pace; your knee is hooked over his arm as he desperately roves over every inch of your skin he can reach, hands kneading your breasts and thighs pressing atop your hips and lips moving against your disheveled hair.
“‘M close, so close,” you whine.
“C’mon, cum for me- I know you can.”
His thumb moves down to your clit, rubbing sloppy circles as his cock kisses your cervix over and over again. “You look so beautiful like this, angel.”
And it’s those words- the unadulterated praise he gives everyone that he’s withheld from you all night- that finally cause the coil in your stomach to snap. A soundless cry seizes you as your body wildly arches against his chest, utter euphoria washing out your senses. You can tell the sensation of your walls tightly clenching around Izuku’s length has pushed him so close to release- you dazedly grasp his hand, entwine your fingers between his.
“Want you to use me, Izu,” you gasp raggedly, squeezing him like he’s your only anchor to sanity. “Need you to feel good, too-,”
“You’re taking me so well, should’ve- fuck- should’ve done this a long time ago-,”
You twist your head around, so your dazed, teary eyes bore straight into his.
“Wanna be your good girl,” you murmur.
A strangled groan rumbles through Izuku’s chest- he clutches you to him as he releases hot spurts of sticky cum into you, hissed swears pouring from his mouth. Your walls tighten as you milk his cock for all it’s worth. Izuku pumps his cum back into you with a few more languid strokes.
The only sound in the air is from you and Izuku’s exhausted panting. Your mind is still in a state of post-orgasm bliss, jumbling all rational thoughts about what you just did and who you did it with. His fingers are still tightly laced between yours as he pulls out of you, leaving an aching emptiness in your core.
Slowly, you turn to look at him.
Izuku’s hazy desire is beginning to ebb from his gaze. He studies you quietly, his chest heaving as he works to regain his breath.
For a moment, you both simply stare at each other in silence. Your trepidation is growing as his face remains unreadable.
Then he cups your cheeks in his palms and kisses you. His lips are soft against yours, gently moving against yours. Slowly, you relax against him. He’s so good at easing the tension from your body, putting together the pieces he broke.
“You feel okay?” he whispers, pulling away to study your face.
“Y-Yeah,” you breathe. “You... better not tell anyone about this.”
Izuku’s lips quirk up; he presses a light peck on your forehead. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I’m a nice guy, right?”
ko-fi + commission info!
i'm mixed on this piece, unlike my other old pieces this is... bleh. like doesn't flow as well. fun fact btw- this used to be a shouto fic written for izuushi's college collab but i reread & thought it fit deku's vibe better.
anyway, can y'all see which parts of this fic i used in other fics? hehehe. btw re-reading it made me realize how much better my smut writing/fic writing has grown in the last month LOL.
tagging: @fallxngstarr @hotwings0203 @keigoswifeforlife @girl-who-likes-cold-bois @beastybunnie @the-casual-hedonist @seagullcrisps @choke-me-levi @diamond-3 @lmaosupertuff @pocky-writes @maxi8898 @evierena @biscuit-buddy @kodzukens-thighz @cinnamon-n-roses @lonleyweeb77 @shaytroll
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tteokdoroki · a month ago
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BUT WHEN HE LOVES ME. | K.BAKUGOU.
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♡ pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader.
♡ word count: 14.8K
♡ rating: mature, 18+, mdni.
♡ genre: pro hero!au, angst, fluff + smut.
♡ summary: relationships are never easy. some are meant to last, blossoming into white weddings and white picket fences with a loud dog barking in the front yard. some part ways, love carried in their hearts as they walk separate paths. some are doomed from the start, breaking like glass from the slightest touch. and katsuki bakugou’s? well, his was never meant to last.
♡ warning(s): please read ! heavy!angst, toxic!relationships, mentions of violence, arguments, cheating, bakugou is a really bad boyfriend, heavy smut, literally 7K words of it sdhbfb,  ( characters aged up to mid-twenties ), heavy!body worship, heavy!cumplay, daddy!kink, dacryphilia!kink, praise!kink, unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it, kids ), oral sex ( female receiving ), handjobs, tummy bulges, choking, spitting, mindbreak. reader is picked up during the smut scene.
♡ author’s note(s): hello everyone!! good evening, today i present to you one of my favourite fics i’ve ever written, i’ve been meaning to write some angst for a while + this is my contribution for the bakugou prompt collab from the BNHAREM server! my prompt was ‘it wasn’t supposed to end this way’ (and yes i did base this off that one tiktok audio). please check out everyone’s works here ( thank you emme for the masterlist )
♡ special thanks to @bakugous-trauma​ and @doinmybesthere for beta reading some! 
♡ masterlist | requests | kofi
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— “I HATE ALL MEN.” 
from your seat in the cafe, you can watch the world go by. children running down busy streets with flustered parents in tow, businessmen and women and people chasing their trains with worried expressions— late for whatever boring meeting they have to waste the hours of the day on. you note the number of couples that walk by too, you look for the quirk in the corner of their mouths to see if they’re really smiling, the tight clasp of their hands so hard that their knuckles turn white. 
your hand warms on the clothes table, feeling empty and alone, even when you’re surrounded by many of the people you love.
katsuki’s friends are like family to you. they, mina, kirishima and ochako had all attended high school with one another— but mina you had known from freshman year of college, she decided to keep her options open despite being a pro hero in the making. when your boyfriend, katsuki, had told you he wanted you to meet his group of friends ( surprisingly enough, he still had them, ) and you hadn’t realised the world was so small.
you liked katsuki’s friends, and they loved you— treating you as if you were one of their own, much to your boyfriend’s chargen. so once a month, the four of you met up for brunch to catch up as your lives moved on and the world continued to spin on its own. 
to occupy your empty hand, you grasp at your silverware fork and twirl it around your basil pasta— mina had picked somewhere new to try, claiming she felt like treating herself over the success of graduating alongside her new fling. you couldn’t order your usual, but she’d told you the green stuff was always your best bet for a fancy, up-market place like this. 
“sooo, what’s she like?” you hear ochako coo to your right, leaning forward on her elbows with a dreamy twinkle to her chestnut eyes. the wistful tone to her voice pulls you from your lonesome thoughts about the dreary world and you shove your fork into your mouth to avoid conversation. 
mina grins brightly to your left, hands clasped together as she swoons. “i think she's the one, i might be in love with her!” 
“you say that about all the girls,” kirishima scoffs over a sip of some expensive looking cocktail— it was fruity, he always had a thing for the sweeter drinks in which you shared. after ashido, you’d consider the redhead your second closest friend, his bright eyes and kind smile were always quick to put you at ease. you felt safe with kirishima, and over the years he had helped you understand bakugou in ways you couldn’t in the early stages of your relationship. 
bakugou was a fire you couldn’t tame, not a droplet of water could control the havoc he wreaked. not even you. 
you slump and reach over to swipe eijirou’s drink as mina whines and gushes over her new love. romance talks never did you any good. “what?” she whines, brushing through the pink curls on the back of her neck— seemingly bashful. it must be love, you think, you’ve never seen her like this so it must be true. “i didn’t sleep with her til after graduation!” 
“now,” you wash down your pasta with what kirishima allows you to take and grimace as you tip the glass to your old time friend. “that’s a first for you,” there’s a teasing lilt to the tone of your voice, one that makes mina slap her hands down on the table in protest, the gesture followed by the rattling of expensive silverware. the esteemed guests of whatever the hell this place was called, shift their unimpressed gazes over to your rowdy crew and you shrink in your place, suddenly feeling shy.
“moving swiftly on,” mina comments, a burst of laughter teetering on the tip of her tongue.
ochako joins the other girl in her chuckling fit, replacing the cool atmosphere with a light happiness. “izuku and i are moving in with one another,” she comments while trying to suppress her laughter and you pretend it doesn’t hurt. to see two of your longest friends happy and in healthy relationships, with no one to relate to your struggles. it wasn’t easy to admit to yourself that you and bakugou were struggling to stay afloat— and you attended these brunches with the hopes of forgetting all the pain that you left at home with your significant other. 
but the love was everywhere— in the air, at your table choking you from the inside out. you were filled with a queasy mix of jealousy and hatred, one that you couldn’t shake even with more forkfuls of the pasta mina had recommended. you murmur a quiet congrats along with the rest of your friends, smile not quite reaching your eyes that flicker around the table in order to avoid sympathetic stares from those that know your pain. 
they all know what’s really going on with your relationship, they’re just too kind to say.
“kaminari’s as dorky as ever,” eijirou adds to the conversation swiftly to delay all attention landing on you. he knows and gives you enough time to push away the monster green with jealousy who sits contently in the base of your rib cage and toys with your precious heart. katsuki had called the sharp toothed redhead and his boyfriend ( denki kaminari ), the condiment duo. a complete pair of idiots destined for one another as he’d put it. 
your heart hurts because you so badly want that for yourself, to be seen as the couple who were made for one another and to never be apart, to share goofy smiles like you used to and tell jokes that only the two of you understand— but as the table of your most loved and dear friends shift their attention to you, you know that the ideals of kirishima and kaminari’s relationship is far from reach. 
taking a deep breath, you look to your expectant friends and allow a moment to pass. seconds tick by without a word from you, mina’s cool hand filling the empty space of your own so with your free one, you make a mad dash for your fork and scarf down another mouthful of four star rated basil pasta.
“hey, don’t do that,” eijirou scolds your bad habits, sensing your hesitation  while your eyes flutter shut and your mind tunes out the dark grey of the world outside— the basil tastes bitter, aligning with your mood for the entirety of the brunch. shaded with the colour of your jealousy too.
hesitating, you let kirishima pull the remainders of your food from in front of you, so you don’t pull another stuffing stunt again.  “katsuki and i…” you swallow, keeping your eyes closed as so not to see the hopeful expressions of your friends. “katsuki and i, we had another fight.” 
“really? what’s with this guy?” kaminari chooses this exact moment to return from his escapade to the bathroom, huffing through his nose at annoyance while he immediately finds his seat next to his boyfriend. his amber gaze lights up at the sight of your food next to kirishima however, and he dives right in, much to your display. “ooh! is this that new basil shiz? heard it’s to freakin’ die for babe, you order for me?” the blonde, a shade or two darker than your lover, sounds giddier the more he talks about the food, making you relent to kirishima’s apologetic smile, offering the food to his lover.
but you know that he only looks so apologetic since you keep taking hits. first you lose bakugou and now you’re freaking over priced lunch.
“god, i hate men,” kaminari snides.
“what was it about?” ochako asks quickly as your face twists with a pang of hurt. sympathy lines her sweet voice.
“just about his work, he’s always working late—“ you conjure up the excuse for your boyfriend quickly, wanting to drop the subject before the pink princess beside you cuts in.
before speaking, she gives your hand a squeeze, but your grip still feels empty, like it’s missing something. “think he’s cheating on you?” 
“he wouldn’t,” you try to laugh it off, stop the emotional lump in your throat from growing and keep down the bile of word vomit from spewing across the table— there’s so many things falling apart, ruining what you share with their high school classmate. but these are bakugou’s people, the only ones he has left from those days or bothered to stick around long enough to stand his foul attitude and the weird way that he shows love. no matter how much your failing relationship may hurt you and cause fresh wounds, you couldn’t dare taint the view his friends have of katsuki. “‘m sure he’s on the verge of proposing… there was a small box in his sock draw…” 
this time, you finally look up and meet the stares of the people you love. mina looks like she needs another drink, ochako looks nervous, eijirou looks upset for you and kaminari? he’s only gone and scarfed down your comfort food, brow quirked as he wipes his mouth...next words giving you a reality check. “really yn?” he mumbles over a mouthful of pasta, earning an elbow to his ribs. “what? we were all thinking it!” 
“you don’t think i’m worthy of lord dynamight’s ring?” you try to joke, gulping down the rest of kirishima’s drink and sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck in an attempt to soothe the embarrassed heat forming there. 
ochako puts a calming hand on your shoulder, but it only adds to the lame resentment you feel towards her and her happy, bubbly relationship with izuku midoriya. “it’s not that...it’s just we just think bakugou isn’t worthy of you.” she says gently, rubbing your shoulder slightly. this was a conversation you’d all had before at many brunches. your friends, his friends had been trying to talk you out of leaving bakugou for months— they all knew it wasn’t working, that it was draining the life out of you to keep up a smile and the facade of a blooming, rose tinted romance. 
but you couldn’t leave bakugou, you couldn’t let your friends hate him the way you hated yourself for staying. you deserved better but bakugou deserved to have genuine love and support around him. you wouldn’t let that be taken away because the spark you had, began to fade. 
“he’s a good guy, you guys are meant to be his friends!” you whisper and pull away from ashido’s and uraraka’s respective grips, chewing nervously on the chapped skin of your lips. 
“but—” kirishima hums and looks you dead in the eye— he was probably the closest to your boyfriend out of everyone at the table yet the most adamant for your break up. you suppose he hated seeing two people he loved fall out of love. “but...is he good enough for you?” 
the conversation falls flat from there as you spot a waiter from behind kirishima’s mop of ruby red locks, your boyfriend unfortunately in tow. you couldn’t miss the familiar blonde tuft of hair peeking out from underneath his black snapback— ruby eyes burning into yours even though he wears a mask. your friends follow suit with the flatline of everyone’s words when katsuki takes a seat with you all, throwing down his belongings against the table and pressing a brash kiss to your cheek. 
you feel tension rise to the ceiling of the room, smiling only just. “what the fuck did i miss?” bakugou growls, yanking away mina’s food and causing a pout to pull at her lips for the nth time today. 
get it together, you think as talk flitters through the group once again. taking katsuki’s hand in yours, the emptiness in your hand dissipates with his calloused one in yours. it’s stupid how much excitement you get from being near the man that you love after so long, after the emotional tourment your relationship puts you through. 
but you love him, you always will. 
“nothing, we were just about to have dessert.”
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— “BUT WHEN HE LOVES ME, I FEEL LIKE I’M FLOATING.” 
fights with katsuki bakugou are nothing but explosive.
how could they not be with a man built so high with pride and a quirk that could shake the heavens? they were always so big, brutal and brash— traits that if you squinted, you could find laid bare in the DNA of the man that you loved.
vulgar words and harsh insults you’d tell each other you didn’t mean the very next day, laid out bare for all to see. accidents, mistakes thrown in your face like dashes of piping hot water, leaving burning reminders against your skin. there’s shrapnel everywhere, piercing your flesh and adding littering scars to what’s left of you after you both fall apart every single time. 
this fight had been katsuki’s fault, or so you liked to think. 
you had a reason to be mad, livid even, especially with the careless way your boyfriend treated his life. between the early mornings where you woke up in a cold bed to the late nights where bakugou would limp through your front door with bleeders the size of your fist leaking through his hero costume, dislocated joints and tired, red eyes as dark as his blood— you couldn’t take it. not anymore. 
it was hard not to miss the nights where katsuki would come home with flowers of your favourite kind instead of blossoming bruises, wine instead of open wounds. you wanted him back, was that too much to ask for? to be able to look at your partner and see the warmth of love written in the tiny brown flecks of his eyes— the ones you could only see if you were really looking at him. to be able to hold him and not feel him flinch under your delicate touch from loose and poor stitches, to be able to hold his hand and not worry about the scars of split knuckles. 
“i just want you to be safe,” you tell him the night prior, patching up a slice to his side as he bled crimson roses into your porcelain bathtub. it wouldn’t stain, there was bleach in the cupboard under the sink for situations like this. your voice warbles, breath hitching with every grunt from bakugou as the needle and thread passes through honeyed skin. “you keep getting hurt like this and it scares me.” 
tears start to build up behind the waterline of your eyes and you turn away from katsuki to grab some more gauze from the cabinet. an excuse not to let him see you cry, for he’d throw it right back into your face like battery acid.  “don’t start this shit again, babe.” he says cooly, his own special way of taming the flames before they spread.
“it...it would be nice for you to come home with a box of chocolates and some take out instead of a knee deep wound every once in a while, don’t you think?” beginning to shake from hurt or fear, you can’t tell, you slam the box of gauze down against the sink. you manage to find katsuki’s gaze in the mirror, but he doesn’t look at you— nostrils flared with annoyance. “don’t i deserve that, katsuki? to have you safe?” 
he’d scoffed and you’d finally whirled around, both of your chests beginning to heave from the impending explosion. you both sit in the crowded and tiled room like a ticking time bomb. 
“s’my fuckin’ job to keep the people out there safe, yn. if y’weren’t quirkless, you’d do the same fuckin’ thing.” your boyfriend sneers, a smirk on his face since he knows that it’s hurt you. and there it was, the words that came swinging down on your heart like a jackhammer, stopping its beating in place. sadistic, cruel and calculated— bakugou jabs at you with coordinated attacks in ways that he knows will win him this fight.
you ignore the painful sting that comes along with the reminder that yourself and katsuki will never be equals, he a pro hero and you his quirkless girlfriend. he above and you below. laughing the feeling away, you throw your hands up in defeat— having half a mind to throw the box at bakugou just to make him feel what you do. “it always comes back down to that, doesn’t it?” you spit and bakugou shrugs his shoulders, checking over his own remaining wounds and pulling parts of shrapnel from them with nonchalance to what you say. “i’m always just your pathetic quirkless girlfriend whenever i ask you to look out for yourself, because i can’t stop you from working until you die every single night. i’m worthless and quirkless because i ask you to come home in one piece so i don’t have to keep fixing you—“ 
“i don’t need you to fuckin’ fix me. ‘m not broken so quit acting like i need your shitty help. i don’t fuckin’ need you.” 
bakugou is never rational when he’s like this, saying whatever he can to keep you teary eyed and upset so you’ll shut up. it’s times like this where you hate that you’re so in love with him, that you’ll wait for the fight to blow over just to hold him again, to press rewind and start the record from the beginning. 
“right, of course.” you say weakly, looking anywhere but him. 
the pair of you go to bed angry that night, no words exchanged and no lingering touches. katsuki still struggles to sleep as he always has— plagued by nightmares from his days on the field, some as far back as his time at  U.A. the sports festival, when he was kidnapped. the blonde shuffles amongst the shared sheets, clawing desperately at the small strings of good sleep that are slipping from between his scarred fingers.
usually you would comfort him, roll over from your side into his dip in the bed— wrap your arms around his firm torso and let your hands rest on his warm chest, feel the lively beat of his heart beneath marked flesh. let your own body relax at the comforting thought that your boy was alive and well and safe. that was the only time katsuki bakugou would let you hold the vulnerable sides of him and his guard would fall away. 
but tonight you lay mad beside your boyfriend, holding in your gentle cries as the argument replays in your head.
because no matter how much you loved him, you would always be katsuki bakugou’s quirkless girlfriend— it would never be enough for your late night hugs to keep him safe.
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bakugou never likes to leave you after a fight. something about his overprotective nature of you and his lack of communication skills always led to this.
no matter how infuriated he is with you and vice versa, he never ever leaves your side. it could be anywhere between two days to a week, filled with awkward silences and hands that brush against each other when reaching for the coffee pot— quickly pulled away from one another followed by quiet grumbles of ‘good morning,’. into the silent  space of your apartment becomes mounted with an unbearable tension while bakugou broods and attempts to string his emotionally retentive words into a poor attempt at saying sorry. 
it usually stays this way until one of you apologises, katsuki through small actions— needy kisses and the sight of his muscled and shirtless back cooking a slightly less spicy version of your favourite food in your kitchen after work... and yourself through gripping his fingers and kissing a small ‘sorry’ into the corner of his mouth. 
and after all this, the shattered glass of your fragile and delicate relationship becomes glued together, sitting at a breaking point before your next fight.
but he sits next to you the day after your fight, an arms length away from you on the shitty couch your mother had gifted you as a housewarming present when you both first moved in with each other. it was old and from your childhood home, the missing spots of blue nylon material patched up with anything your mother could find. bakugou hated it, called it an eyesore in the middle of your apartment but he let you keep it because it made you smile, because it was soft against his back when he laid with you on movie nights. 
despite being only a breath’s width apart, you still miss the heat of katsuki’s body against your own— craving to curl up against him like you used to. even still, the blonde pro hero remains as intense as ever, staring blankly at the saturday morning news report flashing on TV, letting his presence flood your living room and burn every corner. 
neither of you say a word as the reporter recounts an incident downtown, an armed robbery with the assailants gunned down and around thirteen injured including some heroes. out of the corner of your eye, you see bakugou’s thigh twitch as if he’s desperate to get out onto the scene, despite the fact that today is his only day off for the next week. 
you rip your gaze from him and rest your head lazily on the palm of your hand, elbow on the arm of your couch. “that could have been you, y’know?” you tell him absentmindedly, anxiety settling in the column of your throat. it could, have been him— you’re not wrong. if your boyfriend had been on duty today— he could have gotten himself hurt way worse than you can handle, he could have even died, god forbid that even happened. but they were all possibilities you were forced to think about every time he stepped out of your creaky red painted door and left for work as a hero. 
everyday you’re forced to think about the infinite number of ways bakugou could die on the job and it’s been killing you slowly from the inside out for years. a black necrosis eating away at the tissues of your heart until it’s beating affection for pro hero dynamight starts to slow.
“i know.” bakugou tells you weakly, voice hoarse from sleep and not having spoken to you since last night. you don’t look, but you can feel the burning gaze of his on your left cheek for the first time in more than eight hours. his stare is hard and unmoving, but you don’t dare to budge on meeting it.
“you could have died,” you continue, picking at the sleeves of katsuki’s sweater that you wear. the news report continues; confirming izuku midoriya as one of the heroes injured on scene but thankfully stable, bullet just grazing his thigh. your body sags in relief at the fact that your friend is still alive. “you could die anywhere and i wouldn’t know, i wouldn’t see until it was written in big block letters for everyone else to see. but what about me, katsuki? what happens to me when you die? because i don’t have a quirk and you’re just—“ 
bakugou finally turns his body towards you, pulling your arm that rests on the couch cushion  until you’re collapsed in his arms and your noses are just barely brushing. “i know, baby...fuck,” he uses his freehand to brush through bed head blonde locks, letting it run over his face before using it to tilt your chin up towards him. “i know, ‘m sorry. you know that right? you know that i’m sorry…”
eyes closing, you nod and let him hold you— tuning out the noise from the report and listening for katsuki’s breathing, his heartbeat, the proof that he still lives. “i know…” 
“then you gotta know that, ‘m only ever fighting you like this, ‘cause ‘m tryna keep you safe,” you feel him nod with you, a sigh of relief passing from between his lips as he presses foreheads together. “fuck, baby i just want you safe. out there ‘m fighting the bigger guys to keep them out ‘n keep you away from harm.” 
you laugh breathlessly, wetly as katsuki finally holds you and gives you the soft affection that you’ve been craving. “you’re such an idiot, katsuki,” you can’t help the smile that spreads across your lips and twitches at the corners of your mouth— especially when feeling your lover mirror the expression on his own. you let your sweater paw covered hands snake around the back of his neck, twisting in the baby blonde hairs at it’s nape before leaning up and finally, finally pressing a kiss against his lips. 
the hand that held up your chin slips to cup the back of your head— pulling you harder against him and letting his tongue trace the seams of your lips. he tells you he loves you without saying, you feel it spread throughout your body like a warm wave crashing on a white sandy beach, you feel it in your lungs and how they burn for oxygen despite how bakugou grips your waist to tug you onto his lap and kiss you harder than ever before. you feel it everywhere he touches, the skin where your sweater has ridden up, your bare thighs, your neck, your face. every inch of you. 
you love him, you love him and he loves you— more than anything and more than there are words. “fuckin’ love you,” he grunts between smooches to your raw lips, tugging them with his pearly whites, tongue sliding over yours.
you giggle. “i know,”
“say it back baby, wanna hear you say it.” he huffs, pinching your side.
“i love you back,” you manage, between even more fits of laughter— separating from bakugou to run a hand through his sun kissed locks. “i love you,” 
bakugou smiles, genuine and big with his eyes bright and teeth on display. 
“i know.” 
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— “ WHEN HE CALLS ME PRETTY  I, FEEL LIKE SOMEBODY.” 
katsuki bakugou tastes like burnt oak and whisky. 
it wasn’t one of his favourites, the whisky... but he’d been stuck on it since the night he met your father and they stayed against your childhood swingset in your back garden talking about katsuki’s plans for you both. he’d gotten your father’s approval that night. and yet, there’s salt on his tongue from the margarita you drank back at the restaurant on date night— two completely different drinks swirling together in perfect harmony. 
just like yourself. just like him. 
the pair of you stumble right through the front door, toeing off smart pointed shoes and uncomfortable high heels required for the dress code at the upscale restaurant katsuki had booked with all that pro hero money. the dinner was nice, the tiny portions and rare ingredients had been a right treat but you’d been eyeing something different for dessert. 
katsuki seemed to share the same idea, heated red stare never leaving your own— his large and built body cornering you in the booth that he’d paid for. you know that he’d planned that, judging by the sheer amount of privacy you had in the dim lit restaurant. god, you looked so delectable, so pretty— you’d gone all out in a pretty dress, skirt short, colours of his hero’s costume, lips painted red—so it was only a matter of time before bakugou’s hand slipped up the material and grasped at your doughy thighs.
pulled them apart under the dinner table, pressed white hot fingers against your thin lace panties and rubbed smooth circles into your clit— while both of you sipped your respective drinks and asked the wait staff for another basket of breadsticks. 
so that’s how you end up here, pressed up against the entryway table in the entryway— your legs hooked around the slender waist of your boyfriend, gasping for air at the feel of his sharp canines stamping their desperate way up your throat and marking it as his own, making sure that you and everyone else to see you in the coming days knows exactly who you belong to. with every bite comes a vicious bark from bakugou, hooded eyes mapping out every unmarked area of your skin— painting it with bruises that form beneath the surface, soothing it with laps of his heavy, wet tongue over each inflamed area. 
squeezing his waist tighter, you use your legs to drag bakugou’s lean form closer to yours— relishing in the way his body hangs heavily over yours. the antics from back at the restaurant sparked a fire deep within your lower belly, started an itch in your cunt that only the great katsuki bakugou can scratch. just having him like this, wandering hands and pointed teeth all up against you made you so incredibly needy. all for him, only ever for him. 
“y’fuckin’ eager t’night, baby…” katsuki tells you, voice thick with a slur and eyes dark, teasing and honed in on you underneath him. the temperature surrounding your bodies rises, especially with how closely pressed you are to one another—perfectly slotted together like it was meant to be. “what’s got you s’worked up? surely you can’t be losin’ your mind over a couple fingers, hm?” 
an attempt to rub your plush thighs together while having them wrapped around katsuki only pulls a gluttonous grunt from the man— his eyes fluttering shut as you accidentally press against his clothed hard on—trapping him close to the heat of your core. “don’ need to tease katsuki, you did enough of that at the restaurant,” you sigh, losing all control of your body and pushing up against the man again. you can practically feel his cock twitch through the thin linen dress pants that he wears, black in colour that you want off but bakugou won’t go down without a fight, not before clamping down on your neck once more.
“wasn’t teasin’ princess, ’barely took a fuckin’ finger back there,” he easily finds more of the spots that make your back arch off of the entryway table and your pretty pussy clench around nothing but hot air, lapping and sucking at them until your eyes are crossing and you’re gagging on your metaphorical competitive words. with rising hands, you force your fingers into bakugou’s blonde roots in an attempt to bring him back to your lips— not having tasted them since you walked through that door. everything is too hot, which you can’t tell if it’s because of the alcohol or because of katsuki’s quirk, your patience is wearing far too thin and you miss the taste of him on your tongue as if you hadn’t loved each other like this for months. 
which you hadn’t. 
you whine in defeat, still tugging at soft blonde hair and lifting your hips to meet the impressive girth of your lover— but it’s not enough, you need him to give you all that you’d been missing through the bitterness of the last few months. “whas the matter? what’s the matter baby?” bakugou coos, kissing where your jaw meets your neck, tongue lolling over your pulse point. 
“need a kiss katsuki,” you huff, body reacting to the tenderness in his voice despite the contrasting roughness to his scarred and explosive hands that push the straps off your pretty dress off of your shoulders and pinch and pull at your sides and your tits. “aren’t ya gonna kiss me?”
your hands still in bakugou’s hair, his head lifting from your neck to look over your darling face— smudged ruby painted lips and bright doe eyes. fuck. ‘course he was gonna kiss you. especially when you looked at him like that. 
“s’that all you want, sweet girl? for your suki to kiss you?” with every question, the mocking lilt to katsuki’s tone rises and rises, earning warm pools of slick through your panties and onto his precious dress pants as you grind and grab at him— all for a kiss, all for him to press up against you as you sit prettily on the entryway table. you nod your head way too eagerly, pulling a sleazy chuckle from your man as he watches you pout and squirm. he debates on torturing you for a moment more, before leaning down and pressing your foreheads together once more. “c’mere baby, c’mon gimme a kiss, give suki a kiss.” 
you jump up excitedly but the large and marred hand belonging to bakugou encases the swell of your thigh and pins you down to the cool wood surface. he pinches you there once and you know to stay still, letting him swoop down and press his chapped lips against yours in a chaste kiss. for a second your body tingles with release and a pleasurable heat flashes through you with the taste of the whisky in his mouth— but as soon as katsuki came, he’s gone again— leaning over your now sweat slicked body with a daring smirk. 
“no, no, no,” the unimpressed whimpers pour from between your smudged lips, barely distracting from your now teary eyes. “wanted a kiss suki, you promised…” 
bakugou hums, cocking his head down at you innocently. “what? you complaining’ baby? after the pretty night i gave you?” he continues teasing you, mocking you while you succumb to your needy stature— he knows that you like it when he manipulates you like this, takes advantage of your fuzzy baby brain just to get some dick in your leaky pussy. he’s always so good at taking care of you when you’re high off of lust and alcohol alone, you missed the way he took care of you and let yourself indulge in all of him tonight. “didn’t make any promises to kiss ya either, yer jus a dumb lil baby aren’cha? makin’ things up— maybe y’had a little too much t’drink…”
you try to shake your head, but katsuki’s already caught you by your chin— pads of his fingers beginning to sink into your chubby cheeks as he angles your head from side to side, as if he’s inspecting you for the supposed lie you’ve told. meanwhile his other hand slides up what he holds of your thigh, reaching for your lace panties beneath the material of your short skirt— but the material is so tight around your curves it restricts his movement. 
“‘m not drunk suki— not that drunk, just please gimme a proper kiss, please, please…” your tears fall unwillingly down the apples of your cheeks from the way katsuki holds you— he doesn’t look like he’s going to budge, so you open your mouth to speak, to beg again only for bakugou to delve deep into your awaiting mouth. his lips mouth with an air of roughness this time around, giving you want you really want and he matches the pace of his kisses with the movement of his hips— slotting his dick against your now puffy folds, more defined as a result of the way you drool into your undies. 
you're so desperate for a little more than just a little roughness to your kiss, nipping at bakugou’s lower lip enough to draw blood in an attempt to pry open his mouth and get that bitter taste of whiskey once again. you force your way into his mouth, tongue twisting with the pink of his own and uncovering the warm and bitter flavours of his whisky from earlier. this kiss is much dirtier than before, spit swapped as your hands roam the rest of bakugou’s body— pushing at his fancy shirt and tearing through the buttons that keep it anchored over his well sculpted chest. 
the grinding doesn’t stop either, even as bakugou cups your throat to keep you pinned against the wall behind you— head hitting the mirror with a light thud, glass vase with a fresh set of your favourite flowers falling from the entryway table and hitting the floor to your left. you both start to move with more vigour, the oxygen leaving your brain to make room for the overwhelming thoughts of your boyfriend who hangs above you. 
your lungs burn with brightly coloured lust, in shades of fiery orange and red— the walls around you, trapping in the heat of you pressed against katsuki. it’s not enough to have his mouth on yours and his hand with cool rings locked around your throat, and he doesn’t seem like he’s going to move any faster— withholding kisses and debauched touches from your starved body. so you take matters into your own hands, literally, fingers scrambling for the belt that keeps you away from bakugou’s dick. 
“slow down baby, you’re gonna rip through my pants with how fuckin’ needy you are,” katsuki tries to tell you with taunting voice but he choked on the tail end of his words when you finally break through his belt and half heartedly shove down his pants— stained with the nectar that dribbles from your destitute pussy. you grasp at his firm cock from over flimsy boxers, mouth practically watering as you get closer and closer to your goal. 
the pair of you share a hungry moan when you set katsuki free, his heavy girth hard and slapping against his tummy— only visible between his open shirt. beads of clear precum ooze from his sore red tip and you lean forward to spit against it, rubbing your palm over bakugou’s cockhead and shaft to create a lubricating mix of the fluids. a whimper, although small, bubbles on the seams of katsuki’s lips as his tongue darts out to wet them— his large body shuddering wholly as you finally take the weight of his cock into your hand, feeling for the prominent vein on its underside and reaching further into down to grasp at his heavy balls. 
“baby—“ he warns you, tip leaking hotly against your soft hands as you explore him. 
you look up at bakugou with big, innocent eyes, breathing heatedly into his mouth when he begins to collapse against you with every stroke of his cock. “missed how you feel, just wanna touch you suki, can i? please?” you ask him, even though he’d already nodding his head yes and whispering the ghost of praises against your cupid’s bow— wet from the sloppy kisses he gave. 
“fuck yes you can sweet girl, gotta finish what we started don’t we? make a mess of this cock ‘n i’ll—fuck— fucking ruin, that precious pussy of yers, yeah?” you know that he’s mindlessly babbling, beginning to leisurely thrust into your sticky closed fist— acting as a flesh light for his pleasure. “you’ve been s’good for me tonight, lettin’ me play with ya pretty clit ‘n mark you up, now y’givin me a handjob? dunno what i did to deserve you baby,” 
your heart flutters against your rib cage at the small slur of praise from your boyfriend, clit throbbing and cunt twitching all for some nice words nice words uttered from cherry bitten lips. “mmh,” you mumble, high pitched and desperate, “s’all for you katsuki, just wanna make you feel good,” 
he howls from deep within his chest, volume just above the raunchy slapping, damp sounds of your hand jerking his dick— squeezing occasionally to pull surprised moans from katsuki as he shakes above you and fucks your closed fist like it was your tight, pulsating cunt wrapped around him. a colourful ray of curses fill the air and you watch the show unfold between your bodies, saliva pooling on your tongue at the sight of bakugou languidly thrusting into your hand— a reminder for what’s to come later on in the night. 
you don’t dare to let up the pace of your hand, speeding up with every pull of katsuki’s hips away from your fucking heavenly grip— fat droplets of his precum hitting the floor with crude slaps from just how much he’s leaking, allowing your palm to glide up and down his shaft in smooth motions, bringing him closer to cloud nine. bakugou’s mind turns fuzzy and hazy, it shows in his face and the bliss that lines vermillion orbs— they flutter shut with every fervorous pant he lets out— your breath mingling together. 
his cheeks flush a shade to rival is enchanting ruby red eyes, strings of salvia joining the roof of his mouth to his strawberry tongue as katsuki throws his head back to let out alluring moans, like music to your ear. his adams apple bobs, tiny mutters of ‘fuck,’ and ‘shit, right there’ follow, and god he looks so beautiful like this, his fat cock in your hand and a line of sweat dotting his hairline. you want to commit the image to memory and let it burn in the back of your brain. 
“you’re gonna make me cum,” despite the fact that the word’s on the tip of his tongue are seethed in your direction, bakugou doesn’t let up up on the jump of his hips to meet your hand— letting you tug at his cock and fondle his breeders balls to orgasm. “y’don’t get my cum till ‘m inside you baby, you don’t get my cum…oh fuck, oh fuck yeah…” he chants even though he doesn’t stop, eyes snapping open to lock on yours. “greedy girl, just gonna keep jerkin’ me off to get what you want? told you ‘m not cummin’ till i get inside that needy lil’ hole of—“ 
“uhuh, just gimme your cum suki,” you cut him off with cheeky swipe of your thumb over his tip, coaxing the pro hero towards his high— you repeat the action as he shudders above you, swiping up more of his arousal before releasing him and lifting your hand to your mouth. you suck your tainted thumb between your lips, moaning lowly at the salty taste of your boyfriend against it and keep your gaze locked on his. 
“fuckin hell baby,” bakugou says, following your movements as he lets you spit on his cock once again, the glob running down his painfully hard shaft before you squeeze your messy head around him once more and piston it at an unforgiving pace. “fuck—fuck, you better fuckin’ stop, you better fuckin’ stop— holy shit, don’t fuckin’ stop fuckin’ this cock—!” 
you don’t stop despite his contradicting words, guiding katsuki through the messy terrains of his high as white hot light flashes behind his hazy eyes and a colourful stream of cursed tumbles from between his lips. his head drops heavily to your shoulder, the pace of his hips stumbling as he releases ropes of thick cum stain your hand, adding to the sheen that glazes it. you grin pridefully at the washy, imperfect mewls that come from your boyfriend while his hips start to slow and he pushes more of his white cum onto the floor beneath you both. 
“you came so much, katsuki,” you observe sweetly, letting him go once more to lick the remains of his release from your hand. bakugou doesn’t say a word as he comes back down, breathing heavily into your neck— still shaking. so you don’t expect his hands to forcefully grab your wrists, nails digging into the skin there as he pushes them above your head with a strong grip, your hands cooling against the mirror behind you. “suki—“ 
“daddy oughtta punish ya fer the stunt you just pulled pretty girl,” bakugou tells you breathily, steeling his voice although his face remains soft and wanting for you. “makin’ me cum over ya like some desperate fuckin’ dog. was gonna make you pay baby…but i just wanna get a taste of that sweet fuckin’ pussy, ‘cause i know s’been leakin for daddy this whole fuckin’ time…” 
you’re too delirious to deny bakugou’s claim, most obviously because it’s true. you’re sure that if he looked now your panties would be so soaked through that he could see the puffiness of your pussy and the way your clit pulsates, hanging onto every dirty word that drips from katsuki’s lips like liquid gold. that very same pair of lips is on you quickly, capturing your mouth in slow, sinful and sloppy kisses— spit trailing down your chin as his hands move to the sweetheart neckline of your dress that lies under your cold breasts exposed to the air, lacking attention. 
you don’t complain though, not about the lack of stimulation to your rock hard nipples— no, but the way katsuki tears right through your dress to easily get rid of the tight material restricting access to the treasure between your thighs. “my dress!” you shriek, body fully exposed to the hungry blood diamond orbs. “i bought that for you, dummy!” you pout.
“who the fuck cares? i’ll getcha a new one,” katsuki mumbles, sinking to his knees in front of you and your seat on the entryway table. he mouths over your thighs, pressing wet kisses to the tops of them where they swell and covering them in a clear gloss of his saliva. “don’cha want my tongue in you baby? can’t do shit like that with stupid dresses in my fuckin’ way…” slowly but surely, katsuki spreads your legs— kissing a path  from the little bow on the waistband of your underwear, right down to wear your clit would be. he bumps his nose against the sensitive nub, staring up at you to watch you twitch and grouse avidly— your own legs spreading apart even more. your hands, that hadn’t moved from above your head almost slip from their place, but with a quick spank to your unused sex, they jolt right back up. “hands where i can fuckin’ see them, baby girl.” 
“yes daddy,” you sigh, your entire body trembling with unadulterated excitement. for the first time in a while, you’re about to have crazy, passionate sex with the man who’s touch you thought you’d lost, your juices practically flow at the thought. 
pressing his lips to your juicy cunt, bakugou’s nose inhaled the saccharine scent of your sex at the same time— making you spasm in place. “that’s daddy’s good girl,” he hums into you shortly before pressing is tongue flat against your ruined panties, using the tip to trace a path up the length of your lower lips— just to get a taste and to pull a reaction right out of you. instinctively, your hips jump up from the entryway table, nudging katsuki’s tongue right down to your awaiting hole. you’re so fucking needy for anything, going so long without being touched or groped since you got back from the restaurant— the way he’d flicked your clit earlier in the booth had left you on the edge the entire time.
“oh-ho-ho, y’fuckin’ liked that, didn’t ya?” bakugou slurs, using the tip of his tongue to trace your hole— pushing it in along with the fabric of your underwear before sucking on the wet patch you’ve created just by gushing out streams of arousal. he tastes you through the lace barrier, listening out for your small gripes as your scent replaces all oxygen in the air and you expel hormones from his quaint little action. 
you nod in agreement, down to katsuki, hips bucking up for a while before he clamps them down to the oak wood table beneath your ass. “please…” 
katsuki tuts, spitting onto your puffy pussy lips from over the material as he pulls the waistband back and snaps it against your clenching tummy. “whaddya need princess? my tongue?” he asks lazily, flicking the tip of his tongue against your bud. you nod again but dumbly, unable to form enough words to tell him what you want. bakugou wastes no time from there, the hands on your hips snaking around to your ass, tearing through your panties from behind and yanking you towards his unruly mouth. 
he latches onto the entirety of your soaked slit, pink muscle finally breaching your tight entrance— curling immediately inside of your velvet walls to map out their ridges like he’s done so many times before. it feels so good to finally be worshipped like this again, the rough patch yourself and katsuki had been going through meant nothing but quiet quickies between shifts or on nights where neither of you could sleep. you had no choice but to miss this, the moments where either of you were overpowered by a sheer burning desire to become one, to fuck until your neighbours had complaints or the whole street had woken up. whether it’s pure passion or alcohol, you don’t care, just having katsuki between your thighs, suckling and slurping on your sex like his life depended on it— it’s  enough to make you lose your mind.
for the pro hero, having you clamp down on his tongue like it was his cock on those nights where he’d have you take him over and over, makes his hard on twitch to life. being the reason for your euphoria and amorous cries, caused dopamine to crackle across his brain— caused him to get addicted to the way you sound when getting fucked by him. it was like a high for bakugou.
you gush and gush, waves of arousal staining katsuki’s rose tinted cheeks— he could spend all of eternity working on pleasing you from between doughy thighs, sending you into sensory overload from each swipe of his hot tongue against your overstimulated clit. it’s all so obscene and messy, you’re sure there’s a pool of your own nectar sitting underneath you, a mix of your own fluids and your boyfriend’s spit running down your slit and to your ass. 
“feels so fucking good baby,” you keen over the sounds of your creamy cunt and bakugou cleaning you up, groaning sharply at your sweet-like-honey taste. you feel you might short circuit from how good your hero boyfriend makes you feel— owning your pussy as he thrusts is tongue in and out of your abused hole, never slowing down and only ever speeding up until your eyes cross and you can count the number of stars floating across your vision. 
you trap the pink muscle inside of you, let it wriggle about in search for your g-spot until bakugou lets up on your hips, allowing you rug aggressively into his awaiting face and smear a glaze of arousal over his chin. he keeps you plugged full with his tongue, letting you ride it as if it were his fat dick, held in place for you to use as your heart desires. 
“oh fuck baby, you’re so pretty when yer ridin’ my fuckin’ tongue like that,” bakugou says, catching his breath only after he pulls away from the heat of your throbbing mound. there he goes again, filling you with adoring praise that makes you feel so loved and so turned on all at once two fingers replace the roll of his tongue, rubbing fast and calculated circles along your nub until your thighs start to quiver around his head. “god, this pussy’s so good, love it baby. can’t believe s’all fuckin’ mine.” 
your body remains unsteady and shaky with nothing to hold onto, you practically squeal at the knot forming in your lower belly— the pressure there indicating an impending orgasm. “wanna cum daddy, can i cum? lemme cum—please, lemme...lemme cum…” you start to chant, losing your mind when your lover uses both tongue and finger to get you to heaven’s gates. “holy shit—katsuki!” 
“go ahead, can feel y’ready creamin’ on my tongue pretty girl…” bakugou says into your clamping cunt, laughing heartily as the dam finally breaks and your release washes over you. you convulse in your place, eyes rolling far back into your head as your arousal hits the floor with crude slap— merging with what katsuki left. he fails to stop either, slipping a single finger inside your hole and hitting your g-spot until your vision goes black and you’re begging him to stop. you feel as if you’re floating, tripping into orgasm chanting his name like a mantra.
“mnno—baby please, daddy— can’t, can’t—“ you wriggle; losing consciousness as a second orgasm takes control and takes you to cloud nine once again— syrupy cunt pouring cum like a river, the very sight enchanting bakugou. 
by the time you come to, katsuki is already standing up and making even more space between your soaked thighs to slip is cock into your raw and abused pussy. “daddy’s gonna fuck you now, kay sweet girl?” bakugou asks you, voice rough but the hand on your face, the one he uses to make you look at him is soft, domineering and gentle.
“mmkay daddy, wan’ your cock please,” you say sleepily, happy to be handled however your boyfriend wants. he takes to using two of his digits to press his shaft against your slick folds, riddled with the remainders of your precious orgasms. he glides through your folds with ease, sticky sounds dancing between your sexes as it tells the song of your passionate night. your ass is sore from being seated on the entryway table for so long, but all feelings are replaced by the new euphoria katsuki’s shaft creates just by brushing up against your overstimulated clit.
he spanks your breasts, letting the mound bounce before sharp teeth latch onto the other— grazing against your nipples to give them the attention they’d missed out on during your earlier sex crazed frenzy. “how d’ya want me baby?” katsuki whispers against the soft flesh, painting it in bruising shades. “wanna make you feel s’fuckin’ good,”
he pushes his dick through your swollen pussy lips until his tip hits your tummy, smearing globs of precum against it. you both shudder, relishing in the slick feeling of you grinding against one another bare. “don’ care,” you manage to find it in you to reply, cheekily dropping a hand  into mussed blonde locks to pull him into a chaste kiss. your brain is completely foggy, moments away from breaking and all you can think about is the taste of whiskey and salt in your mouth and the way katsuki heats you up from the inside out.  “jus want you,” 
those words seem to be all the permission katsuki needs to finally fuck you after so long, he pushes you by the shoulder to lean back against the cool painted wall— adjusting the position of your legs around his body until they’re hiked up high over his broad shoulders, ankles locking behind his head. you’re folded in two by the time he’s finished positioning you, cock drawn back from your tummy so his bright red tip, leaking feverishly with precum once more can be tapped against your sticky pussy— ground into your clit and teased into your puckering entrance ever so slightly. 
“want you too baby, s’fuckin’ badly,” bakugou murmurs lovingly against your lips, eyes closed and forehead pressed tholeo yours as he finally eases his tip past your entrance— stretching open your unused  from his thickness. he pushes in easily, thanks to your previous releases, and you’re so fucking warm and tight he thinks it might kill him.  the way you accept every inch of bakugou’s cock reminds him of how perfectly made you are for him— how he’ll never get another pussy, another girl like you in this life or the next. 
you’ll always be his pretty girl, and he’ll always have an insatiable need for you— to love you and protect you, no matter how much of an ass he is. 
“do i not fuck you enough, how the fuck are you so fuckin’ tight? must all be for me,” your cunt accepts bakugou into its soaked canal, walls spasming around him rhythmically before he’s even start to thrust. you ooze thick, viscous nectar while your core blossoms for him like your favourite flower but he presses on, until bakugou’s reached the hilt, fully sheathed inside of you. 
lifting your hips to lock him into your heat, selfishly, you add. “my pussy belongs to daddy, can’t be fucked open by anyone else but you,” the pair of you stay like that, revelling in your connected bodies and pressing light kisses to one another’s faces to prepare for what’s next. the alcohol in your system is well flushed out by all kinds of hormones and pheromones by the time katsuki pulls back his hips and slowly draws his cock out of the comfort of your ribbed walls— the only thing keeping you drunk is the way he stretches you out around him, pussy changing to accommodate his size and the pure love you have for katsuki bakugou in this very moment. 
leaning his large body over you, the blonde’s hands wander across your own as if memorising  every perfect detail about you— the light scar on your inner thigh because you hit a table corner when you first moved in together, the stretch marks, the beauty spots on your tummy and shoulders. bakugou presses a kiss to your sternum before looking up at you with big, loving eyes— eventually practiced and capable hands end up settling on the curve of your peachy ass, gripping it and moulding it as katsuki slowly pulls you back onto his cock. 
“hold on t’me baby,” he tells you lowly, face shoved back into your neck as if he doesn’t trust himself to not blow a load if you look at him. breath fanning warmly against the junction between your neck and shoulders, he continues. “ready?”
“oh god...please, please…” you feel like you’re going to cry, he’s right there— he’s all over you and all you want is to feel him where you need him the most. to have him take you again until all there is, is his scent on your body to match the love bites he left.
katsuki wraps an arm around your shoulders, large palm gripping the back of your head as he finally thrusts into your awaiting, gummy walls and meets the hilt. he pulls back, barely leaving the warmth of your pussy as he sets a slow and deep tone to the movement of his hips. “shh sweet girl, i’ve gotcha, kay?” he coos to you, followed by a seraphic moan that sends your sex into a series of flutters around him. “daddy promised to—fuck, make y’feel good…”
the edge of the hero’s words have a slight tremble to them, from where lewd sticky sounds echo in the entryway of your apartment— katsuki’s hips slowly rocking into you while a sheen of sweat sweeps over your joined bodies. he slips in and out of you so easily, forcing your cunt to accommodate for the sheer size of him. no matter how many times katsuki had fucked you, no matter which way, you always lived for the burn his dick created as it pushed its way into your puckered hole— moulded you into the perfect fuckhole for him to use.
“ohmygod—fuckin’ shit,” bakugou whines salaciously, using his grip on your ass to move you back and forth on his cock— matching the pace of his hips jutting in and out of your pathetically creamy sex. with every pull of his shaft out of you, your hips chase him to swallow him back up, keep him locked in your cunt until his tip that spews and smears clear precum against every ridge of your insides. 
hearing the man you love break above you fills you with a brilliant, bright and hot essence of delirious devoir— as he pulls away from your neck, vermillion eyes screwed shut you can see that sweat drips from his brow, which is furrowed in concentration, focused on bringing you to euphoria. bakugou’s honey skin shines under the dim lighting, flushed with only a light pink from his exertion, chocolate abs contracting with every stroke of his cock and rut of his hips into you. hair matted to his forehead, his arms flex, dragging you to meet his hips, skin smacking and breath mingling with the sex lingering in the air. 
bakugou is so fucking beautiful, you might mistake him for a mirage. if you were a desert, his sun and his golden sand, then he was an oasis— a forbidden drink of cool water, a vision of divine light. 
and you’re so lucky you get to be the only one who sees him like this, watch him break as he pumps you so full of everything he has to give you— see the vulnerability in his eyes as he slowly opens them to watch you mirror his darling expression. “you—you’re so pretty when you f-fuck me suki,” you tell him through earnest and teary hiccups, punctuated by his fervid driving hips, prodding harshly at your pleasure spot. 
katsuki tilts his head and swoops down to assault your bruised lips, famishedly tugging them between his sharp canines and running his tongue over the site of attack. you can taste yourself spread across them, laced with the saliva in his mouth before he spews it into your own— almost choking you while the grip he has  on your shoulders lifts you to meet him halfway. “yeah baby?” your boyfriend whispers lecherously against your temperate and impassioned mouth, as if he’s telling you a dangerous secret. “well daddy thinks yer the pretty one here, split open on my fat cock. y’so fuckin’ gorgeous, when ‘m fuckin’ you, when ‘m holdin’ you— daddy loves you so, so much baby,”
bakugou reminds you of his title, but there’s not a hint of anger or disappointment written across his perfect, chiseled features. there’s no hesitation in his thrusts as he pounds into you, hitting your g-spot and causing constellations to dot your vision. he doesn’t stop loving you, making love to you even if you’ve slipped up just a little. and it feels like bakugou never left, as he takes you like this on the entryway table— rocking it with the sheer force of his barbarous bombardment on your raw and sluice sex. it feels like home with him inside you, his dick basking in your slippery warmth. it feels like love again. 
tears start to brew in your eyes once again, clumping in your eyelashes and gathering on the hot apples of your cheeks as you become overwhelmed with admiration and love— heart thumping against your rib cage. “love you daddy, s’much, please don’t ever stop,” you beg, not bothering the clarify the fact you’re asking katsuki bakugou to never stop loving you, to never leave you high and dry nor empty...physically and emotionally.
because then you don’t know what you’d do if bakugou stopped holding you like this, stopped slotting his body against yours and claiming every inch of it as his, with every swipe of his tongue, every plunge of his cock into plush walls, every kiss and bite and touch. you’re sure that you’d go insane without him. you don’t dare to think of anyone else making love to him the way you do, because you’ve given him the key to your heart and he’s tossed it away, some place dark of his to keep. 
you don’t want this to be the last time, you don’t want the night to end. all you need is this moment in time, the first moment in many months where you can feel the flame in your heart burning the same heat as bakugou’s when he takes you. your hand brushes through his hair lovingly, your eyes sparkle with fresh sets of tears while your boyfriend’s intensity waves over you in scorching waves, soothing scratches and scars your relationship has given you over the last few months. tonight gives you hope that what’s broken can be fixed, that you still hold his heart like he does yours. 
“you’re mine, katsuki,” you writhe underneath him, stomach twisted in delightful knots— the tip of his heavy shaft tournenting your poor g-spot and his heavy balls slapping wetly against your ass, arousal running between your cheeks. “you’re mine, mine ‘n i love you, want you like this forever…” choked and greedy, your words come out in high pitched sighs, earning a deep keening groan from the man who pistons in and out of you. 
“‘m yours, huh?” katsuki replies, capturing your raptured gaze— blood ruby eyes lined with sobriety that dances amongst their dark brown flecks. he couldn’t be drunk now, he wasn’t. high as a kite only on the taste of your skin and the way you looked so in love with him stuffed full of dick and messed up with different layers of sweat, his precum and your releases. “damn right i am, ain’t no one gonna claim this pussy like i do, ain’t no one gonna fuck you like i do...ain’t no one—fuck baby, don’t clamp down on me like that— ain’t no one gonna love you like i do…” he growls possessivly, adoringly, gripping you by the ass and hauling you up into to his arms. 
you collapse forward, arms wrapping around bakugou’s neck to steady yourself as he pierces you on his length making it hit the deepest parts of your insides, practically splitting you wide open. your cunt throbs and your throat contracts in unison, a silent scream tearing right from it. “ohmygod! katsuki—“ 
“hold on tight f’me sweet girl, trust me, kay?” the pro hero murmurs into your ear in a candied voice, shaky from the new position and the way he’s lined up inside you so deep. he now holds you over his shaft in his arms, they flex as he slowly begins to lift you up and down on him by pure strength. his knees bend in order for him to bottom out inside you and churn up your syrupy insides. “god, y’feel so fuckin’ good like this, could cum like this baby...d’ya want that?” 
tucking your face into his strong neck, you pacify your flowing tears by pressing light kisses to his honeyed skin— sucking on him for the caramel taste that lingers there. “yes please, want all of you...never haf’ta ask,” you sob erogenously, all of your emotions and searing hankering for katsuki overwhelming your tired and fucked out body. 
you feel weak in his arms, trying your best to roll your hips back down on bakugou’s as he thrusts upwards and directly into your gummy pleasure spot— dragging you by the ankle to your third high. “don’t cry for me baby, already told you ‘m yours. don’t gotta worry ‘bout me goin’ anywhere,” bakugou nips at your earlobe, tracing his tongue stickily along your jawline until it reaches your cheeks and swipes away the stinging tears from your flustered face. “you’re fuckin’ mine, i love you. don’t worry about anything except how good i make you feel. fuck you’re so pretty, wrapped around my cock, cryin’ like this. so pretty, always,” 
the both of you start to lose it together, katsuki’s thrusts becoming impatient and feverish, juices from your pussy flowing down two sets of legs like niagara falls. a thick strand swings between your bodies where his cock plugs your spasming hole, the warm and opaque string finding purchase against your shiny and slick inner thighs. no one could do that to you except for him, no one could ever make you this wet and you weren’t prepared to let that go. 
“daddy—katsuki...can’t...c-can’t, i can’t,” you whinge in full volume, the squelching of your sexes so loud it could wake the neighbours. head shaking, you clamp down against your boyfriend and circle your hips, no matter how hard you try to prolong the night, your body can’t stop chasing the burning high and the white light— you need him to cum, to paint you with all that is him, all of his essence. it hurts so good, you want it so bad. “‘m so close, so fuckin’ close… need you to cum with me, i can’t hold it any longer…” 
bakugou isn’t fairing too good either, his grip on your thighs to manhandle you in a pace to his liking is starting to stutter and become languid— but still, he manages to reach over the swell of your upper thigh and burn shapes into your puffy clit. “whaddya need baby—fuck, just tell me ‘n i’ll fuckin’ give you to world, just wanna cum with you,” he says beginning to write his name; casting his signature over the most intimate part of your body to confirm that his heart and his desire belong to you. “yer gettin’ so tight,” 
lifting your head, with watery eyes you grab his cheeks and smile lazily, alternating the squeezes your sex gives to his cock. “need you to say you love me, suki…”
katsuki smiles, lustful and yet genuine, leaning forward until he’s hunched over you, still in his grip while he fucks shaft, swollen and red and about to burst in and out of your slick hole— wet skin smacking hard and fast against yours at an insatiable speed. 
“i fucking love you, my sweet fucking girl,” 
that’s all it takes for the flood gates to open and for the damn to break— you cup his cheeks and kiss him, tongues slotting against one another perfectly, nostrils flaring with struggling attempts to intake air and bakugou’s hips fail to slow, dragging so fucking deliciously against your inner walls as his seed spills into you, flooding your womb to the brim with so much potent white that you can feel your tummy bulge and see most of it run down your slit and between your ass cheeks, landing on the floor in a puddle with the rest of your prior orgasms. 
bakugou becomes blinded by bright lights and the sight of your pretty cunt swallowing his cock despite how much cum you’ve taken, his entire shaft covered in a thick layer of milky white as he continues to shove it into you, “fuck me baby, fuck me..” he gripes, tone whiny and high pitched while you cum for him, spewing your release against his thighs and abdomen, ruining your own. you cum so hard you feel the blood rush in your ears and the world around you falls away. your nails dig crescent moons into your boyfriend’s shoulders, you absolutely fucking lose it and burst into pleasure filled tears.
“suki—katsuki, baby, ‘m cummin’, don’t stop, don’t fucking stop, don’t you ever stop,“ you babble brainlessly, your mind breaking even as his thrusts slow and the treasure between your thighs is coated with cum. bakugou presses down on your g-spot one last time, catapulting you straight into another orgasm and causing your chest to heave. you squirt hard, clear liquid ejaculating from your sex and covering you both in another messy layer of release— the force is so hard that you manage to push bakugou’s dick out of your contracting hole, he can’t bare to stay away from you for long however, sliding it right between your abused and dilated pussy lips. 
“shit pretty girl, did so good for me, feel so good ‘n you’re still fuckin’ cumming,” katsuki bumps your clit from time to time, watching you jolt in his secure and safe arms while you both collapse to the floor in a mess of souse and tired limbs. the aftershocks of your orgasms pulse through your exhausted body and you curl into your boyfriend, still crying. “shhh, s’okay, daddy’s got you baby, pretty baby— ‘m so proud of you,” 
you sniffle, twitching in katsuki’s embrace. “love you suki, so much,” 
he presses kisses to your hairline, whispering praises with each one and brushes the tears away from your arms. “fuckin’ love you too gorgeous, now let’s getcha up. need you to pee so ya don’t get sick, kay?” 
you nod and bakugou doesn’t make you stand on your own, hauling you back up into his arms and leaving your messy pile of cum and clothes to deal with later. he’s so good to you, you’re so lucky— you can’t help but think when he bathes you and rubs balm into your bruises and sore areas. maybe this didn’t have to end, maybe you’d both be okay after this night and it could go back to the way things were. 
at least that’s what you hope. it feels right to think like that, especially when you curl into his chest and his arm swings lazily over your waist in bed that night and he whispers. “you’re mine forever too,” 
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— “EVEN AS WE FADE, EVENTUALLY.” 
you wish you hadn’t gotten your hopes up. 
you wish that you weren’t so naive to think that a few good nights with bakugou could change what was months in the making. you wish that you weren’t so quick to fall for his charms and sweet gestures, the way his lips muttered i love yous and the way his hips would meet yours in the dead of the night, stardust and praise s scattered across your skin along with midnight blue bruises painted by him, along with various other shades.
you fucking wish that you weren’t so foolish to believe that cheap glue and false positives could hold together the broken relationship you tried so desperately to save. the pieces were too small, there was too much and crystal always shatters so beautifully anyways. your mother had taught you that.
you thought that you could last, you thought you had a chance but just like your friends had told you time and time again, you were too good a girl for a man like katsuki bakugou. you were too good to be stuck in an awful place like this. you deserved better and it was bitter to even think that you were the one to beg him to stay, to keep him tied down and in the end it was you to be the one that needed to cut yourself free.
you had the chance to escape. there were no such things as red strings of fate, so you knew realistically that you weren’t tied down. no matter how much you tried to believe bakugou was perfect for you, it was childish to even think so. besides, even if they were, yours was sure to have faded completely. you just couldn’t see yourself staying with him anymore.
it rains on the day you decide to finally do it. 
mina had helped you set up an apartment in her building on the other side of town, she had been so kind throughout the whole thing, held you while you cried and emptied her favourite bottle of pink gin until there were no tears left. the movers had been in and out of your shared place with bakugou all day, you hadn’t the time to buy boxes but kirishima and the guys he recommended had come with some. 
in that time you realised how much of the stuff in your home wasn’t yours— how you lived in a space belonging to someone you barely knew. it was all so surreal, you couldn’t bare yourself to move or to leave when the movers had packed up most of your things and were ready to go. you could leave— you had the time to before bakugou got back from whatever meeting he had, along with his post work run. you could have gone without a word.
but as much as you deserved better, deserved a new life, you knew that you deserved an explanation too.
the door handle wriggles and forceful steps sound from your entryway, but you can’t bring yourself to look up from the very thing that ended it all. that broke your rose tinted window and caused the glass to all come crashing down on top of you— reopening closed wounds. 
bakugou calls your name almost immediately, tearing your gaze from the colourful page. “what the hell is going on? why are there movers outside? where the fuck are they taking our shit?” the blonde bombards you with questions, anger frothing on his tongue as he rips out his head phones and unzips his grey hoodie— hot from rage. 
“her stuff,” kirishima answers for you when your tnroat goes dry and you can’t seem to think— because how the fuck do you talk to the man who broke your heart? your boyfriend notes the box his friend carries as he emerges from your bedroom, it’s probably the last one filled with your clothes, not a single article of his in sight. “i’ll be waiting for you outside,” the redhead adds with a nod in your direction, and you hum, weakly.
he leaves and then it’s just you and bakugou and everything you’ve been waiting to say.
“yn,” you grimace when he calls you by your first name, the gravity of the situation finally daunting on him. you don’t do things like this, in the spur of the moment. you’ve always been the planner of this relationship and the weight in the air tells him something is wrong. “what the fuck is going on? i come home ‘n there’s movers outside, our fuckin’ apartment is empty and fuckin’ kirishima is here?” 
you can’t stand the sound of his voice right now, you can’t believe it was something that once soothed you. that would calm you down within a second of whispering sweet nothings into your ear. so you say nothing, picking up the magazine that sits on your coffee table, freshly printed and brand new— you roll it up and almost gag at the scent of printer ink that brushes past your nostrils. one you’re done, you stand from your seat on your mother’s couch, you’d be taking it with you, and toss the magazine with all your might, hitting the blonde square in the chest.
“yn, why aren’t you fucking answering me? what is this shit?” his usually warm running blood turns freezing cold when he looks at you, reaching down with one hand to swipe up the magazine. he sees how lifeless you look, how dull and colourless your eyes are but he still avoids looking at the paper in his hands.
you swallow, looking away with a sniff and crossing your arms over your chest. the sweater you wear isn’t his, but one of kaminari’s instead. bakugou’s chest starts to hurt. “just read it, bakugou.” 
you don’t call him by a pet name, you don’t call him by his first name. you don’t even let your gaze trail back to the man you’ve loved for so many years. so anxiety sparks in his bloodstream and expels into the cool air of your emptier-than-usual apartment and katsuki bakugou finally looks at the damn magazine crumpling in his hands.
and sprawled across the front page in big angry red letters, an obvious picture to match is “PRO HERO: KATSUKI BAKUGOU— CHEATER?” along with a photo of him caught in a lip lock with your close friend ochako uraraka.
bakugou’s world stills. “where did you get this?” 
“so this picture is real? it’s not a PR stunt?” you answer katsuki’s question with a question, watching his red eyes dart across the page. you’re not a fool, you’d studied the picture for hours on end since the first time you saw it, you were with him long enough to know that the way he cupped ochako’s cheeks was the same way he held you before every kiss you’d ever shared for years. you can tell just from one look at the photo that there was love in his eyes when looked at her. 
and from the way his face falls, you can tell that your suspicions are far from wrong. 
you wish harder than ever, harder than the rainfall that you didn’t believe in soulmates. that you’d listened to your friends and to your mother. 
“baby, please—“ 
bakugou clams up, fear settling on his cursedly beautiful features. he takes two steps towards you, desperate to pull you into his arms and fill your head will more pretty lies just to keep you sedated and by his side— but you shake your head, throat hoarse from holding back tears. “no, no.” you tell yourself, more so than him, to stop yourself from forgiving him yet again. “i trusted you, i gave you so many chances to fix what we had and i trusted you to every single fucking time bakugou.” you take a deep breath to steady yourself, the world spinning as you start to grow queasy. “i loved you so much that i broke myself in two, i sat embarrassed by my friends because i was so in love with you, i believed you would change for me…” 
stupid heart, stupid love, stupid you. bakugou doesn’t say anything more, sits there and takes everything you throw at him because he knows what he did was wrong, beyond wrong. he knows that he fucked up. “‘m sorry, you know that i am, it didn’t mean anything,” he tries to defend himself, knowing his words will fall on death ears.
pausing your ramblings, you laugh shortly despite your watery red eyes and the knife of betrayal in your chest that stops you from breathing. you can’t think clearly, you can’t stand still and you know as you pace that bakugou is a smear in your mind where your heart has been ruined. “sorry isn’t going to fix it this time, you cheated on me bakugou, you cheated on me with someone we both called a friend—“ you throw your hands up, shaking your head in dismay, looking up at the ceiling to blink back your heavy tears and hide them from him. the last thing you need is finding the strength to break up with  katsuki bakugou only for him to see you as weak. “ochako…” you hum, through trembling lips. “her? really? how could you do that me, to deku? we’re two good people—“ 
“don’t you think i know that? fuck, i never meant to hurt you, i didn’t want to hurt you but holy shit i did and fuck—“ bakugou says, scrambling to find his words— running a hand through his damp locks with his chest pounding, realising the weight of his actions only now. he looks up at you, red eyes frenzied and panicked. “fuckfuckfuck, does deku know?” 
you sit down, just so tired. hearing that someone who meant the world to you, who was your everything and then some admit that he willing hurt you and broke you—puts a heavy weight on your shoulders. you don’t know where to go from here, what to do, just that he’s ruined you. “of course izuku knows, he’s the one who...who showed me the paper,” you whisper, biting your lip to gather yourself. you could leave now, knowing what did you did— but for some reason you wait to see if anything katsuki says could fix this. you wait for him like you always do. “ochako’s PR agent sent the magazine to their address, he opened it thinking it was their wedding magazine. their wedding magazine, bakugou. they were happy, we were happy—“ 
he shakes his head, slamming a fist down on the coffee table as he kneels opposite you. “we were lonely—“ bakugou shouts, pain filling the room easily just like his presence does. 
“you were lonely? i was the one who sat here waiting for you to come home every night, the one who patched you up, the one who loved you no matter what kind of shit you gave me or put me through, fuck you katsuki, honestly fuck you.” you start to shout through your sobs, hurting your vocal chords and you’re so loud you can see the movers flinch outside. “i loved you...doesn’t that mean anything to you?” 
he pinches the bridge of his nose and for the first time since you started dating, you see bakugou start to cry. “of course it did,” he hiccups lowly, barely noticeable to anyone who didn’t know him like you did. “fuck, yn, i loved you so much but so did she,” katsuki doesn’t dare speak ochako’s name in fear of setting you off and making you leave without a chance to explain himself. “she understood me, what it was like to be a hero and have everyone rely on you for your quirk where you fuckin’ nagged me for it.” 
“it always comes back down to the fact that i’m quirkless, you can never get over that. you never could since you went pro,” you scoff, licking your top lip to get rid of salty tears. the pro hero whispers an apology but you ignore it. “you say she loved you...how long were you together?”
there’s a beat of silence before the blonde answers you. “months,” 
you cringe. “how many?” 
“yn—” 
“did you love her?” 
“yn don’t fuckin’ do this—“ 
“did you love her, bakugou? hell, did you sleep with her too?” 
he chokes back a sob, looking away from you and pressing his palms together. “yes i slept with ochako, and yes i loved her, fuck but i loved you more—“ 
“that’s selfish,” you tell him directly, breathing shakily and willing yourself not to cry more than you already have in front of him. kirishima was sure to get an earful of it later. you feel sick to the stomach knowing that while he used you, held you, fucked you— he was doing the same to someone else.  “you don’t love in the day and her at night. that’s so fucking selfish. i should have listened all those times when your friends told me to leave you, i should have listened, but i wanted you so bad, i wanted to marry you and when i saw that ring in your sock draw, i thought you wanted me too.” 
you share a look with him, hoping that his eyes will reveal the truth to you just as they always had because if you could see in that ruby abyss that he wanted to marry you— just maybe, maybe you could stay. but then katsuki’s eyes twitch and you uncover the betrayal and the lies woven in with the dark flecks of his eyes and your stomach drops, your heart stops beating and time stands still.
“that ring wasn’t for me, was it?” you ask.
you shrink back when bakugou makes a reach for you, his chest heaving and pain on his face that probably mirrors yours. you back up on the couch, breaking into millions of tiny crystalline pieces as if the pro hero had dropped a sledge hammer on top of you. katsuki bakugou was never going to marry you, he was going to marry her. ochako uraraka. you see it all, it seeps from his pores and fills the room, which is suddenly too hot, you scratch at your arms, scrambling to stand up and gather your phone with your coat. 
you need to get out.
“baby, baby please— please listen to me—“ katsuki starts to beg as you gather yourself together, speeding things up as your heart breaks in your chest and you burst into loud, noticeable tears. “baby don’t leave, please don’t go, just listen…” he babbles and reaches out to grab you, his world practically ends when you flinch back. “you weren’t supposed to find out like this, it wasn’t supposed to end this way...”
“don’t. dont touch me, don’t talk to me, don’t you ever come near me again, you…” you stumble over the words in your head but keep them steady as you speak, shrugging your coat and hood on, ripping your body away from bakugou’s. “you fucking prick.” 
so you leave it all behind, running out of the apartment into the rain as it washes off all the memories you hold of you and katsuki together. you dash down the street and wave to the movers truck, signalling that they can leave— bakugou hot on your trail. in three short strides you reach kirishima’s car, tears swimming with the rain that sticks to your clothes and jump into the passengers side. 
kirishima jumps, throwing his phone into the cubby and looks to you while you buckle yourself in. “woah—hey! slow down,” eijirou tells you, reaching over to fix your seatbelt while you fumble with it, delaying your breakdown even more. “what happened? are you okay?” 
“no, just—“ you shake your head, drowning out bakugou’s cries for you in the street, catching him standing soaked in the rare view mirror. “please just drive, eiji,”  you whisper brokenly to your red haired friend, who nods and sets the car into drive— setting route for his place with kaminari instead of your new home. the movers will know where to go, they have your address and keys too.
slumping in your seat, you check the mirror one last time to see katsuki on his knees, on the floor in the rain— his form growing smaller and smaller the further you get from him.
you sniff turning off your phone to avoid any texts from him. “he’ll catch a cold,” you say to no one in particular, even though eijirou looks to you worridley. “not that… i should care anymore.” 
and you shouldn’t, katsuki bakugou isn’t your responsibility anymore. 
he only was when he loved you, really.
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2K notes · View notes
sorryimanon · 2 months ago
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Pro-hero!MHA Characters — how they are in bed
Warnings: NSFW visual representation. If the sight of porn makes you uncomfortable, please ignore!
AN: links only work if you have access to twitter
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Katsuki Bakugou
How he eats you — doesn’t just rely on his expert tongue to make you cum. bakugou utilizes his slender fingers, pumping in and out of you vigorously while lapping and biting down on your puffy clit. watching you squirm is downright the cutest thing he’s ever witnessed.
Favorite Position — an ass man will always be an ass man. as much as he loves seeing your strained expressions during missionary, bakugou is able to unleash his bottled aggression in this position: your perfect ass presented to him, your strangled moans muffled, and the upper half of your body hanging off the edge of the bed.
Izuku Midoriya
How he eats you — izuku practically adds this technique to his mental itinerary. foreplay is mandatory for izuku, immediately pulling you to hover above him; you smothering his face with your wet core, his hands teasing and playing with his sensitive nipples.
Favorite position — good ol fashioned missionary. izuku bends your legs so far back your spine is screaming out in agony. the pleasure soon overshadows the uncomfortableness. he’ll kiss you periodically, hands carefully wrapped around your neck for leverage, both of you whimpering into each other’s mouths.
Shinsou Hitoshi
How he eats you — what a selfish, impatient man. shinsou quite frankly would rather kill two birds with one stone than endure drawn out foreplay. it’s better to get each other prepped and ready together instead of taking turns. also, it’s hot feeling you twitch on his tongue while simultaneously choking on his dick.
Favorite Position — sleepy, sleepy shinsou loves this position. he isn’t inherently lazy during love making per say, but fucking into your drenched sex while on his side? sign him up! this position allows him to hit those unreachable spots efficiently, although the languid strokes leave you whimpering for more.
Shoto Todoroki
How he eats you — shoto passionately eats you out, his mouth never leaves your sensitive clit. sometimes he’ll drawl out the foreplay, edging you close to tears. your pleas for him to fuck you are futile. just relax and let him take care of you love.
Favorite Position — our bi-colored lover boy revels in the way how you relax against his body, putting complete faith that he’ll make you reach your climax. shoto teases you a lot more in this compromising position. slight touches to your perked nipples and clit, hips bucking in tandem to your beautiful moans. your legs afterward hurt from being elevated for so long.
Eijiro Kirishima
How he eats you — quite similar to bakugou, eijiro only uses his fingers the moment he knows you’re about to climax. precautious of his teeth, kiri shows his sadistic side by biting and pulling your flaps. be weary to not squirm or move while he does said technique. Oh, and lots of spitting!
Favorite Position — god, eijiro is a total unit. so, imagine him going quarter unbreakable in this position, his harden cock thrusting into that pretty pussy, praising at how well you are taking him.
Denki Kaminari
How he eats you — unlike the others, kaminari mindlessly enjoys you doing most of the work for this part, because he’s considerate of you and wants you to set the pace. eating you from behind works well, his tongue disappearing in and out of your sex as you keep twerking on the soft muscle. never a dull moment.
Favorite Position — there’s just something about fucking you from behind that gets denki riled up. he’ll be preoccupied with something but would find ways to have you present your cute ass for him. gaming together became whole different meaning.
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master list 🩸
05.06.2021
2K notes · View notes
sunatea · 2 months ago
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tell me
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wc: 1.8k | gn reader | angst 18+ | warnings: oral sex, unprotected sex, spit, cheating (not on reader)
suddenly jolted awake from your deep slumber to the urgent knocks on your front door, you barely made out the time on the bedside clock. 3:18 AM. letting out a yawn, you were about to sink back into the mattress, not believing anyone would actually be banging on your door this late.
more knocks came- even harder than before.
with a groan, you stumbled out of bed and quickly made your way to the front door, anger and annoyance growing with each step. you’d spent the whole day patrolling and only made it to bed two hours ago- just to be woken up by some asshole.
"you better be fucking dying." you grumbled.
the sneer on your face fell instantly after you swung open the door. standing right before you was your ex-boyfriend. he was just as startled, his arm still raised like he was just about to knock again.
“kat- bakugou?” you quickly corrected yourself. "what do you want?"
bakugou was a mess. his hair was wilder than usual- as if he had been pulling at it, dark circles formed under his eyes, and he was sweating bullets. you’d almost asked if he was drunk but you couldn’t smell a drop of alcohol on him- he had never cared for drinking anyway.
he lowered his arm slightly to run a hand through his hair, an old habit you recognized from whenever he felt anxious.
“i...need to talk to you.” his voice came out hoarse and unsteady.
you narrowed your eyes, obviously displeased. that didn’t deter bakugou as his piercing eyes only bored into yours further. knowing that nothing good would come from this, you scoffed and moved to shut the door in his face but he quickly shoved his boot in the way.
“bakugou.” you warned.
“tell me you don’t love me anymore.”
stunned, you immediately released your tight grip on the door. “what did you just say?”
you finally noticed that he had been crying. letting out a shaky exhale, bakugou grabbed your shoulders, pleading “just tell me. i need to hear it right now.”
you stared at him in utter shock. where was this coming from? and why was he saying it now? it had been five years.
also, he was engaged.
five years ago, your relationship had come to a crossroads. bakugou had wanted to hang on- you didn’t. you didn’t want to hang on to the lonely nights waiting up for one another, the canceled dates, and the constant petty arguments over who did what. you wanted to let go before you both started to resent each other. he was your first love and you refused to let it end with bitterness and anger.
after the breakup, you couldn’t exactly avoid each other since you were both rising heroes. it was tense for a while but eventually, the pain went away and you could both give yourselves and your careers the proper focus. over the years, you stayed in touch through work but you wouldn’t have exactly called it a friendship. you kept each other at arm’s length, afraid of what might happen if you got too familiar again.
it wasn’t until an invitation to his wedding arrived in your mailbox two months ago that you realized you hadn’t really let go. all this time a small part of you had been hanging on to the idea that fate would bring you both back together. as if you two were a case of 'the right person but the wrong time'. you thought that there would be another chance.
but life didn’t work that way and as you held the invite in your hands you experienced the pangs of utter regret. it was painful, but you confirmed your attendance as a show of good faith. you would move on too.
you hadn’t realized you were crying until bakugou's large hands were on either side of your face, his thumbs wiping away your tears as they fell. he looked down on you with a small gentle smile that was only ever shown to you.
“please, y/n,” he didn’t know what he was begging for at that point. for you to put him out of his misery? to send him away once and for all? he didn't know what was happening. one moment bakugou had been lying awake anxious and restless, the next he was rushing to your apartment. to you. he knew he shouldn't have gone there but it was the only place he could breathe.
for years bakugou had only gone through the motions, never really coming to terms with your split. he loved you, and the last thing he wanted was for you to be miserable- so he reluctantly agreed to let things end. months later, he was able to see your genuine smile again and it killed him to not be the reason behind it anymore. were you really so unhappy when you were together? thinking you were better off without him, bakugou abandoned his hopes of being with you again and forced himself to move on.
he regrets giving up back then- repressing his feelings for you and letting the facade go on this long. because now, less than 48 hours before his wedding- it was too much- it was all coming down on him.
you don’t know how long you both stood there in your doorway, sobbing into each other. you still loved bakugou with everything you had, but knowing he was supposed to be married in just two days weighed heavily upon you. to allow yourself to fall into him again would be the most selfish thing you’ve ever done- unforgivable even. uraraka had done nothing to deserve that.
“katsuki...” you pulled away from him, averting your gaze. “it doesn't matter anymore. now go home.”
before you could comprehend it, you were pressed against the door with bakugous mouth on your own. his kiss was searing, almost taking your breath away completely. just like that- your will was broken.
clothes were stripped and strewn about as your bodies stumbled through your apartment. bakugou grabbed the back of your thighs and hoisted you up, carrying you off to the bedroom as you kissed along his neck. after he carefully lied you down on the bed, you were quick to pull him down with you, chasing his lips again.
“i love you. i love you so fucking much.” he professed, lips moving from your neck down to your stomach. “only you, y/n.”
when he was finally between your thighs, bakugou took his time, remembering how much he loved to tease you. he kissed and marked you up before slowly dragging his tongue along your most sensitive area. your moans were like music to his ears. he didn’t want to stop hearing them anytime soon- not after going so long without it.
“katsuki, please.” you mewled after a while, almost delirious from how sensitive you were.
bakugou crawled up from between your legs, looming over you before kissing you again. with his tongue coated in your arousal, he made sure you got a good taste of yourself before tipping your head back slightly and spitting into your mouth. a pleased grin spread across his face after you swallowed immediately.
your mind was still blissed out from all the previous orgasms he’d pulled from you, but you still wanted more. as he busied himself with your nipples, you wrapped your legs around his waist, grinding yourself against his cock. “please.”
bakugou smirked and pulled back to align himself with your entrance. “i’ve got you, baby. we’re not even close to done yet.”
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you stirred awake as something heavy pressed on your side. glancing down, bakugou was snuggled into you, still sleeping peacefully. he had always looked so beautiful in his sleep. wanting to savor the moment for as long as possible, you remained still, recommitting his serene expression you’ve missed so much to your memory.
that was how you remembered a lot of your mornings together. bakugou would be practically glued to you as he slept while you softly ran your fingers through his hair, coaxing him awake. he used to be so grumpy about waking up too early.
you began to smile, but soon the guilt overwhelmed you. you’d done something horrible and no amount of happy memories could justify your actions. bakugou still belonged to someone else.
one of many things could happen next. your best guess was that the both of you would agree it never happened- bakugou would still get married tomorrow and you’d most likely leave the country. no way you’d stick around for that. and if it ever got out- you’d be public enemy number one. the pathetic homewrecker who ruined the golden couple of the hero world. all outcomes lead to the same thing: you, alone and heartbroken all over again. but you deserved that- worse than that actually.
vermillion eyes directly in front of your own snapped you out of your self-loathing trance. you didn’t realize bakugou had woken up. for a while he said nothing, just staring down at you with a lazy smile that always made your heart flutter. you know that for as long as you live, you'll never feel even a fraction of what you feel for him with anyone else.
“you’re spiraling in that little head aren’t you?”
you slid from underneath him and turned to stare out the window. “i won't say anything. i promise.”
you didn’t see the flash of hurt on his face. the old him might have exploded in anger and spat something cruel before storming out. but now, he could recognize that you were just scared. you thought he’d regret everything that happened and he'd still get married tomorrow- he wouldn’t. bakugou knew full well there would be consequences and he was prepared to shoulder them all. nothing else mattered as long as he could be with you in the end.
“i’m not marrying her.” he said firmly. “i meant what i said. only you.”
he expected you to start yelling, to scream at him about how he was making a mistake. you’d always been stubborn like that, he could hardly recall any time he was able to change your mind. but this time he wouldn’t let you go so easily, he was prepared to fight until his last breath.
instead of being met with a fiery response, he was completely caught off guard when he heard your sobs.
“i don’t know what to do.” you sounded utterly broken.
he quickly slid up from behind and wrapped his arms around you. tucking his face into your neck, he rocked you back and forth gently until you were able to calm down. bakugou had never been good at reassurance, he knew his harsh words wouldn’t help in this situation. all he could do was hold you together and make sure you knew he was there. from then on, he'd always be there.
“y/n,” his hold on you tightened.
“leave with me.”
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A/N: i have no explanation for this nonsense other than i wrote it after reading some heavy angst that i shouldn’t have been reading in the first place... also a runaway groom is always fun. anyway, as y/n what are you guys doing after this situation? bakugou and i def ghosted and eloped ♡
please do not copy/repost.
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candy-hime · 24 days ago
Text
thinking about making boyfriend!izuku snap.
tw: smut, deepthroating, daddy kink, brat taming, breeding kink, emotional masochism, izuku breaks your heart when he's pissed😔✌️
1.3k words
you love pushing izuku’s buttons. there’s something so fun about teasing your boyfriend, an even-tempered hero who somehow has infinite patience with you. his friends revel in it, too.
“wow, you really have him whipped,” sero snorts.
“he’d jump off a bridge if you told him to,” denki jokes.
no matter how many insults you throw his way, or embarrassing secrets you reveal, izuku never really gets mad. he simply leans over to you and murmurs, you’re gonna get it.
the night ends with rough sex and mind-blowing orgasms and- who can really blame you for mocking him? the meaner your taunts are, the harder he pounds you into the mattress.
so you constantly try to one-up yourself, growing crueler with every barb.
until you take it too far.
“everyone thinks izuku’s quirk is so amazing.” you laugh. “it’s just flashy theatrics. nothing useful behind it.”
immediately, you realize you fucked up. the change in izuku’s aura is palpable: his placid smile has melted into a blank stare- a distant, stony look that makes your stomach sink.
“that’s not true.” ochako frowns. “one-for-all means a lot to all of us. that was kinda mean.”
“you’re right. i was joking.” you turn to your boyfriend, a nervous smile on your lips. “i know how important one-for-all is.”
but the damage has already been done.
izuku’s quiet the rest of the night, disregarding your words and pushing away your hand. the panic in your stomach is growing exponentially- he’s whispered silky threats, tossed you over his shoulder, but never ignored you so coldly.
the drive back is silent. you feel like you’re suffocating from the tension.
when you both arrive home, you retreat to a spare bedroom, absentmindedly playing with your cats as you wait for the minutes to pass. izuku should cool off in an hour. right?
but when you finally slink into your room, he’s sitting in bed, unemotionally scrolling through his phone.
“i’m sorry,” you murmur.
he doesn’t answer.
this is far more terrifying than his vicious smiles, his harsh throws. the fear curdling in your stomach intensifies.
“izu, please. i didn’t mean it.”
silence.
you’re staggering over to the bed, pathetically crawling up to him on your hands and knees.
“hit- hit me, daddy. yell at me. make me feel bad.”
nothing you’re saying is working. the regret is unbearable- how could you hurt someone you love so much, izuku’s going to leave you now- and then you’re fumbling with the zipper of his pants.
you can fix this, you desperately think as you kiss his length, stroke him until he’s erect. you’ll erase your words with your actions.
but as you swallow down his cock, the taste of musky sweat and salty precum on your tongue, izuku doesn’t even glance down at you. your agitation intensifies until you’re relentlessly bobbing up and down his cock, jaw aching with the stretch. but you don’t care about the pain- don’t care about anything but making izuku happy.
“you’re so perfect, daddy,” you whisper, spit pooling over your chin. you’re pathetically looking up at him from underneath teary lashes. as your lips suck his velvety balls- just the way he likes it- you hand swirls around his shaft.
you’re not doing enough. that’s why he won’t acknowledge you. but that’s okay- you’ll do anything for him, make yourself breathless as you suck down to his dark green pubic hair, make tears stream down your face as you hollow your cheeks, make pain for his absolute pleasure.
izuku is still dispassionately staring down at his phone, but the telltale jerking of his hips is too familiar. only a few moments later, he’s releasing his hot, thick cum down your throat, using your mouth to empty his balls. you try to swallow it all but there’s so much- you choke on his length, frantically jerking away as you gasp for air.
“i’m s-sorry,” you cough, doubling up over on his lap. drool smears onto his boxers; you’re being so sloppy, he’s going to be even more upset. “i’ll make- make it up to you, i promise-,”
and then a deep sigh resounds from above. you’re gently lifted up, nestled against a broad, sturdy chest. the cold spout of a waterbottle pokes through your lips.
“deep breaths,” izuku murmurs. “drink some water. i don’t want you to hyperventilate.”
the gestures finally tips you over the edge; you burst into tears, arms clinging around his neck.
“‘m so sorry,” you hiccup into his shoulder. “i shouldn’t have said that. i love you so much, izu-,”
“shhh.” izuku softens against you. his scarred fingers draw slow circles into your skin. “i know you didn’t really mean it.”
“i didn’t, of course not. you’re the best fucking person i know. i’m so sorry i hurt you.”
“i know, baby. i know.”
and then you’re shoving aside your panties, desperately grinding against his flaccid length.
“i’m gonna make it up to you,” you sniffle. “wanna show how s-sorry i am.”
“calm down, angel. you already did.”
“no, not enough.” you stare up at your boyfriend with wide, teary eyes. “please, daddy? can i?”
he looks at you for a long moment, conflicting emotions playing out over his face.
and then he lets out a deep sigh.
“it’s my turn now.” izuku rolls you over, so that he’s hovering atop your sprawled-out form. “dumb little puppy. tease daddy ‘nd then feel bad, hm?”
“just want your attention,” you tearfully mumble. his smile widens.
“you already have it all,” he rasps, rubbing his thick shaft against your dripping folds. “you’re mine. don’t need to play any games. just lemme treat you- right.”
and with that, izuku pushes through your entrance, cock splitting you wide. you’re gasping, hands clutching at his muscular biceps as he bottoms out inside you. it takes a moment for you to adjust to his size; for a moment, silence hangs in the air, punctuated only by your ragged breaths.
but soon you’re moaning in pleasure. izuku has you in a mating press, your legs shaking in the air as he pounds into you, forest green eyes locked onto yours. the feeling of his heavy balls slapping against your ass is intoxicating; you’re slurring, “wanna take all your cum, daddy, make me yours-,”
“yeah? little brat wants me to fill her up? breed her- like a fucking bitch?”
you’re clenching around his cock so tightly- you want to show izuku how much you need him, how sorry you are. every muscle in your body burns with the strain but you’re going to hold on because he deserves it. tears prick at your eyes as your boyfriend angles into those spongy spots he knows like the back of his hand.
his face hovers right above yours, his warm breath fanning across your cheeks.
“you’re the best man- in the world,” you breathe. “love you more than anything.”
“come here.” izuku closes the gap, capturing your lips in a rough kiss. his tongue slides into your mouth, desperately intertwining with yours. it’s all saliva and teeth and hissed breaths but you want more, want him to devour you completely.
you’re so close- the pressure in your core is almost unbearable, causing your entire body to tremble in lust. and from the way you’re tightening izuku can tell.
“my sweet baby,” he murmurs, lips glistening with your spit. “love you. so, so much- it's okay.”
you come undone with breathy wails, convulsing wildly as waves of ecstasy crash over you. haziness grips your mind; you’re so satiated. but izuku doesn’t relent, chasing his release through your overstimulation.
“stop crying, puppy- hold on,” izuku pants, curly hair hanging in his face. “thought you wanted to make it up to me.”
“i do, i do,” you sob. “want you to f-fuck your cum back into me, daddy, so please- p-please-,”
with a low groan, izuku buries himself to the hilt inside you. and- just like you begged for- breeds you like a bitch. he sprays ropes of pearly-white across your walls, so much it begins to drip out. your legs clumsily wrap around his back; you pull him closer, so he’s completely locked against you.
“thank you,” you dazedly whisper, mind drifting amidst the clouds of pleasure.
“welcome.” he buries his face in your neck. “you did a good job for me.”
“izu?”
“hah?”
“won’t ever... be mean again. promise.”
his lips curl up into a smirk.
“who said that, sweetheart? i want to watch you grovel the way you did tonight.”
ko-fi + commission info!
if you liked this, you'll like nice guy and making pro-hero!izuku snap :)
anyway as discussed on my blog earlier today, if someone says they love you, you should cheat on them. it is unnatural to have healthy romantic relationships. also im sorry yall i wrote this while feverish with mono and half asleep i'll proof later skdhfskdjf
if you want to join my general taglist, shoot me an ask/DM :)
tagging: @fallxngstarr @keigoswifeforlife @girl-who-likes-cold-bois @beastybunnie @the-casual-hedonist @seagullcrisps @choke-me-levi @diamond-3 @lmaosupertuff @pocky-writes @maxi8898 @evierena @biscuit-buddy @kodzukens-thighz @cinnamon-n-roses @lonleyweeb77 @shaytroll @cuteshyallie @cranberrypills @like-crystal-seventeen @thoughtfulsoulmentality @fixwinx @smilinghowever @justastalker1 @aphrodisiqc @theshyfangirl @lurvelybones @mysticstrawberryballoon @thebeardedmoon
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tteokdoroki · a month ago
gotta go hit on pro-hero deku in your merch shirt because that’s his type 🥺
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— “just my type.” + izuku midoriya.
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cw: smut, mdni 18+, groping, pro hero!deku is a sleaze, deku imagining how he’s gonna fuck reader, mentions of blow jobs, corruption!kink, is virgin chasing a thing? no pronouns but reader has female anatomy.
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no okay this this 🥺🥺 ‘cause deku loves it when pretty little things like you wear his merch. his face plastered across your chest that bounces as you bound up to him, big smile stretching across your glossed lips. “d-deku! you’re my hero, i’m your biggest fan!! will you sign my shirt for me?” god, the sound of your voice is just as sweet as the way your body looks— what he wouldn’t give to make you sque as he ruined your innocent body, grabbed at your curves and squeezed at your flesh.
deku knows you’d like it too.
“‘course i can baby, tell me who i’m making this out to.” he says, breathtaking smile, pet name dripping from between his lips like melted chocolate or honey. deku can see the way you duck your head shyly, trying to hide that bashful expression and the butterflies in your tummy and he wonders if you’d try to hide your face from him when he pins you down by your neck and fucks the treasure between your thighs like you’ve never felt before.
“pretty name, darling,” deku tests your name on his tongue, liking the sweetness it brings as it spreads across the muscle. he thinks about what it would be like to hiss your name, tone of his voice heavy with lust as he pushes his cock against needy little mouth. poor hero’s probably hard in ia suit as he pretends not to think about it, and you’re such a doll for pretending not to notice your idol’s dick print.
the pro hero grows less and less subtle the more you stumble over your words, fighting embarrassment when you whisper ‘you too’, fuck you’re so cute. just waiting to be split open on a real cock. how high is your body count? are you a virgin? oh you definitely are, deku can tell from the way you twitch as his gloved fingers press against your breast where he begins to scrawl his name, his claim in the form of a signature against your shirt with his face pressed up against it.
he can almost feel the heat of your face as nerves and embarrassment tangle with the oxygen in your bloodstream— deku could put a little more effort into trying not to visualise how your face would look with your eyeliner smeared across your tear stained cheeks while you choke of pleasure-filled sobs. he would try a lot harder if you weren’t exactly his type— innocent, naive and so ripe for any hero’s taking.
you’re so enamoured with deku, dare he say in love with him. he can’t blame you though, he’s every fan’s dream— tall, kind, golden smile and bright eyes. it’s just so pathetically adorable how much you like him. would you hold the same nervous desire in your doe eyes when izuku fucked you? bent you over on his lap and spanked your ass raw for wearing his merch in public? fingered your tight slit until the only thing that took up the empty space in your mind were the three syllables of his name.
“t-thank you!” you squeak to the hero as the dots the ‘i’ over his real name and finishes the digits of his number right up against your tits. your body feels hot and the sky is spinning and deku knows his lazy smile and freckles cheeks are having an effect on you. so sensitive to touch, so receptive, what he wouldn’t do to have you naked on his bed while he toyed with your sweet nipples and pinched the folds of your sticky cunt.
the pro hero hums, grabbing you by the hbd and twirling you away home him— your back hits he firm of his chest and deku can feel you shake so sweetly against him. “have a good day sweetheart,” izuku whispers against the shell of year gently, patting the swell of your ass while gently pushing you towards your goad of gawking friends.
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shotorozu · a month ago
Hello! Happy belated birthday, hope you had a great time! May I request headcanons with Bakugou, Tamaki, and Shoto about the tiktok of "Denying my man's kisses". If you don't know about that tiktok is like when he's going to kiss his S/O, they avoid the kiss, how would they react? Thanks in advance! ♥️
denying their kisses
(tiktok prank)
character(s) : bakugou katsuki, amajiki tamaki, todoroki shouto (bnha)
legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, quirk not specific
headcanon type : fluff, crack (x reader)
note(s) : so like,, i’m very very sorry for the delay! at this point, it’s not even april anymore so.. thank you for greeting me last time! i was really planning on doing this sooner, but i got busy outside of tumblr before i got the chance 💀 and my other drafts needed to be posted so,, yeah. sorry for the delay, once again!
there’s no proof read, it’s literally 4am here 😃🖐 i’ll edit the errors out later though, when it’s not 4am anymore
»»————- ♡ ————-««
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bakugou katsuki
okay, so at this point— you basically fear nothing. absolutely nothing at all
the tiktok algorithm gave you the idea, and you were curious about katsuki’s reactions, since you’re usually the one that pleads for kisses
then, you were skeptical— at first anyway. since katsuki doesn’t cope well whenever tiktoks pranks are being pulled on him it depends on the severity
the skepticism didn’t last very long, and you ended up going through with the prank. since you’ve pulled riskier pranks on katsuki, this would be an easier task.
it’s been a productive day for katsuki. not that it wouldn’t be productive, since he’s always striving for the best
and what more to end the day by spending some time with his s/o, that’s always there by his side? yes i hc katsuki as a clingy when tired boyfriend, and what of it?
tired and reeking of his quirk— he grumbles, realizing that he hasn’t seen you in hours. it’s partially on him, since he insisted on doing a lot for the day
little did he know, you were scheming something during his absence.
he opens the door to your room, seeing that you’re just scrolling on your phone— and you quickly open tiktok, seeing his entrance
“dumbass.” he addresses you with a single word, loud enough for you to hear— but it’s different, the volume in his voice’s calmer
“busy day?” you quietly start discreetly filming for the tiktok, he doesn’t seem to notice.
“‘s busy as hell.” he replies, reaching down to kiss you
with eyes still affixed onto your phone’s screen, you quickly move your head, successfully dodging his attempt
man’s like 🤨❓did you just avoid his kiss? “the hell was that for?”
you look up in a questioning matter, “oh what? were you about to do something?”
he doesn’t answer. instead, he moves to kiss you again— but you dodge, once more.
“the fuck?” he’s now baffled that you even moved away, but he takes a whiff of himself, “is it the sweat or some shit?”
“well,, it’s a little overbearing.” and with that, he wipes the sweat from his face with his shirt— and then he tries again
you still dodge, and now he’s certain that you’re doing it on purpose.
like.. you dare evade bakugou katsuki’s kisses? when you’re the only person on this earth that he’d ever press his lips against??
this is slowly starting to aggravate him, since smell and sweat was never a concern you had with him so like 🤨❓❓
since he’s so certain that you’re avoiding his kisses on purpose— he can, and will manhandle you, trying to aim his lips on your forehead at least
“stop this difficult bullshit— wait no, this has to be another shitty prank, right?”
earning the reaction you wanted, you end the video, along with your act— bursting into laughter
and his face immediately changes from 🤨 to 😐 after getting the confirmation he needed, and also— realizing he got clowned by one of your tiktoks, again.
only muttering a quick “bye.”, man just straight up leaves 😭
you don’t get kisses from him for at least a few hours, before he sneaked into your room— drowning you with kisses
“do that shit again and you’ll receive no kisses for 72 hours.”
“okay, i get it— i’m sorry!”
shortly after, you post the tiktok— and it gains at least 90k likes, and 240k views— the comments are mostly making fun of katsuki’s attempts at kissing you 💀
safe to say, you didn’t deprive him of your touch with pranks ever again 🧍
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amajiki tamaki
i don’t get it, why would someone do this to him 😭
unlike the other two, you were convinced— meaning, you originally looked at this trend and said “pass” 😃
it’s too bad nejire and mirio are way too good at convincing you to do it anyway— saying ‘it’ll be fun’ and ‘you’ve pulled pranks that were worse than this!’
they’re not wrong. you’ve in fact, pulled pranks that were far more severe than this like hiding under his bed to scare the lights out of him
which brings you here— waiting for tamaki’s arrival in your respective room. you’re scrolling on tiktok, but you note that he could arrive at any moment now
a knock on the door signifies his presence, and you give him permission— shouting him a ‘come in!’
he opens the door, holding a plastic bag filled with snacks, and he stands ever so sheepishly near the doorway
“hey bun,” he greets in his usual manner, closing the door behind him
“hey tamaki!” you move out of your fyp, and open your camera, ready to start the prank at any moment now, “whatcha got there?”
“some snacks,” he sets the snacks down on your desk, getting comfortable on your bed, and slinging his arm around you— thanks to your non-verbal command
he doesn’t notice anything at all. so, you decide to proceed with the plan “i missed you,”
oh no, he’s needy 😃🖐‼️ you were gonna shatter his world— and not in the good way.
after a few seconds of silence, you decide to start filming the tiktok, when he moves closer to press a kiss against your temple
but you move away, avoiding his kiss. it’s a subtle motion, but he noticed.
man FREEZES in his place, his entire life flashing before his eyes— as he inches away from you, “b-bunny?”
you look at him, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from laughing, “yes?”
“did you just..”
“no? were you gonna kiss me?” you ask, and he sighs in relief— you weren’t actually avoiding his kiss
so, he tries again— except, he’s attentive. inching closer and closer slowly, as if he’d detonate a bomb at any moment if he moved the wrong way
he moves to kiss your temple, again— but you dodge
his entire world crumbles, and he BOLTS to the opposite side of your bed, eyes watering in panic
you’re unable to keep it in, so you burst out laughing at his actions— moving to comfort him, seeing his watery eyes
he sits in a ball of shame, but he still accepts your comfort, even after realizing what exactly you were doing “i can’t believe.. that just happened.”
tamaki eventually had to leave the dorm temporarily for some fresh air💀 nejire and mirio shooting amused stares, as they catch a look at their mortified friend
“woah— did Y/N do it already? he looks like he’s seen a ghost!”
“i think that’s just his normal reaction, have you seen him after the hiding under your bed prank? he looked half dead!”
okay so, whether or not you posted the tiktok, that’s up to you— since tamaki was mortified but then, if you didn’t post it, it would’ve been a waste of an effort
so yeah, that’s all up to your imagination for that one 🤩‼️‼️
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todoroki shouto
first of all— why? this man’s kisses are the best?? why would you avoid them 💀 considering that it took some time for him to finally kiss you
a conversation you had with mina earlier that day was half the cause of this
the both of you were scrolling on the fyp, and you came across someone denying their s/o’s kisses for a prank
which made mina ask, “hey, what would happen if you did this to todoroki?” and it’s a good question, considering that you were thinking of him while watching that tiktok
after much encouraging from mina, and also because your curiosity was getting to your head— you decided to do the prank
because yes, all of todoroki shouto’s reactions are amusing, and different each time. and if things went south, you’d compromise with your affection
wanting to burn some extra time, you decided to take a brisk walk near the height alliances
spotting a bench, you decide to sit down— originally wanting to briefly check your phone
then, you hear your name being called out. the voice is one you’re familiar with very familiar actually so, you start discreetly setting up your phone for the tiktok
“hey love, what are you doing out here?” shouto smiles, sitting down next to you
“i just decided to take a short break from walking.” you smile, not drawing any suspicion— after all, your phone was already out when he appeared
“i see,” shouto replies in his usual tone, but you know what he exactly wants. “i was looking for you, but you weren’t inside.”
you tease him, “missed me already?” but he doesn’t seem to deny it. 😳
like routine, shouto moves in to press a kiss against your lips— only for you to move aside, his lips missing you completely.
he notices, but he doesn’t make a comment about it. instead, he tries again— moving to kiss you again
but you move away, the camera capturing the exact moment. your behavior doesn’t change— but you have to make sure it doesn’t crack
his reaction’s like 🧍 but on the inside he’s like ‘loading.. please wait for 30 seconds!’
“are my lips wet?” shouto chooses the blunt approach, and there’s something in his heterochromatic eyes that you can’t get a grip of
he takes your non-verbal response as a yes. getting desperate— he WIPES off any moisture from his lips, moving to press yet another kiss onto your lips
you dodge for the 3rd time. you have to hold in your breath, the silence is nearly deafening.
now he’s starting to think of the things he did that week, and while doing so— his control over his expression slips
and shouto thinks of NOTHING like please, he knows he can be a little dense but he can’t think of anything that would’ve made you upset at him 🗿
his expression’s currently like 😨 ❓and you can actually smell the smoke that’s starting to emerge from his left side
“can i.. at least give you a cheek kiss?” his tone is nearing the edge of pitiful, and this is what causes all of your administrations to collapse
you end the tiktok, and you’re unable to contain your giggles— as a result, you lean against shouto’s shoulders
shouto stares at you with the widest set of eyes you’ve seen— you can almost call them bug eyes. still perturbed, but his confusion is growing
he’s drawing his conclusions, but you still ended up telling him what exactly you were doing. your boyfriend’s like🧍 “oh, i see.”
but on the inside, he’s RELIEVED.
shouto knows he should be more upset, but he’s just glad— knowing he didn’t actually do anything upsetting. he always looks deadpanned, but there’s always a lot going on in his head
you still have to make it up to him, with tons and tons of kisses 🤩‼️ it’s restitution.
a few hours later, you post the tiktok— and after a few hours of it sitting, it immediately exceeds 500k likes and 850k views 💀
but the comments are MAD— clowning, slandering you for denying him three times
“apologize to that poor man, now 👹‼️‼️” “haha omg so funny *reports on three separate accounts*” “ARE YOU SANE?? THAT’S TODOROKI SHOUTO 😨‼️” i mean, if anyone denied shouto three times, i would’ve questioned them too 🙄🖐
you had to make a follow up video, proving that you did in fact— kiss your boyfriend as much as he craved. what better way to prove that, by kissing him all over? and he was smiling so hard in the follow up video so yeah, w on both sides
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likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!
i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby
do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission :))
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katsukikook · 2 months ago
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japan's sweetheart (bakugou x you)
influencer!reader x prohero!bakugou
3.7k, fluff & angst
synopsis: bakugou thinks you're absolutely gorgeous. so does the whole world. your life changes when he posts a photo of you on his instagram.
a/n: the title is bc this is set in japan like bakugou is lol !!! ITS BEEN A YEAR SINCE IVE WROTE FOR HIM LOVE U KATSU ! i wrote this over three (?) days i think the longest I’ve spent on a fic lol I usually write this much in one go. AND NO I did not (I kinda did) get the title idea from that lil huddy song
bakugou knew his girlfriend was pretty. the prettiest. of course he knew, why else was he obsessed so long before he got to know you. back at school from watching you float between friends and hearing your giggle from across the classroom, always managing to be everywhere at once and having everyone in your sight fall in love with you. if he was honest he was slightly intimidated by the fact you'd get confession after confession and multiple notes stuffed in your locker of people either asking you on a date or just letting you know that they think you're gorgeous. all to which you sent your thanks and politely turned down. always as if you were waiting for someone else. bakugou managed to gather the courage to talk to you once, asking for you to train with him, stumbling over his words like an idiot since you were literally glowing up close. you surprisingly filled with glee and accepted quickly. now many years have passed since his school days and he has since been able to fall in love with you beyond physicality for your quirks and idiosyncrasies. never in his life has he ever worked so hard for something, for you to finally be his and that was a lot considering he was japan’s number two hero.
so bakugou knew his girlfriend was the prettiest, most gorgeous being ever to exist and how the world would never let him forget it. shown in the way he’d get swarmed by fans and news reporters after he’d just won a battle with a villain, trying to answer a multitude of questions being thrown at him and still despite his own crowd he’d see random guys or even girls nervously shuffle their way over to you asking what you were doing here. bakugou believed it was a pathetic attempt of flirting. “dynamight always answers the pretty interviewers first. how come you aren’t up there?” bakugou could see the confident glint in their eye from where he stood, trying to butter you with their wack ass compliments. you’d always be polite, shutting them down and giving them a laugh. “does he now? i should talk to him about that considering i’m his girlfriend.”
another time was when bakugou decided to do a typical girlfriend post for his instagram. partly because he wanted to show you off so everyone knew you were the great dynamight’s beloved and also because his publicist was on his neck for a better image. it was a cute picture, one of those couple images that would be on a pinterest board. you in a long linen summer dress, one hand gripping your skirt to keep it down and another holding onto your straw hat so it wouldn't fly off with the sudden gust of wind. your hair was blowing away from your face, showing your features brightly to the camera. bakugou rested his head on your shoulder behind you and an arm wrapped possessively around your waist. you both had massive grins, bakugou's cheeks rosy and one of your eyes squinted shut from the sun. to complete the image, bakugou had his middle finger up towards the camera, a cocky aura to him opposed to your more innocent vibe. the picture was taken in a strawberry field a few weeks prior as you convinced him, kirishima and mina to go strawberry picking. bakugou posted the sweet image, complete with a simple caption, “my girlfriend and i”. so blunt and so bakugou. the picture was met with an overwhelming response, his most liked picture and most commented at a rapid speed. what he didn’t expect was how much the picture would be spoken about within the app and outside of it. though he mostly wasn't surprised the comments were all positive about you, sometimes at the expense of himself.
it was the day after he posted the picture and you were laying on bakugou’s king-sized bed in your comfy joggers and his hoodie with your boyfriend almost completely laying on top of you. his heavy head rested comfortably on your chest with his arm wrapped around your middle. he even entangled his legs with yours for optimum comfort, flicking through his multitude of streaming services to find something to watch. soft grumbles leaving his lips after finding nothing that interests him. you, on the other hand, had your hand perched in his fluffy wheat hair rubbing at his scalp as your thumb scrolled through your phone. giggles leaving your lips as you read your screen.
“whatchu laughing at?” his gruff voice asked, slightly lifting his head to see your face illuminated from your device. you had a double chin at this angle and bakugou fought the urge to stuff his face in your neck.
you looked up to meet his ruby eyes, a smile on your cheeks. “i’m just reading through my dms- you know someone asked me to send them a photo of my feet for…” you paused for a moment looking as if you were counting, “oh my god is that a million? and i think it’s legit too.”
bakugou was well aware that your following has increased greatly from his stunt, from major news reports even high end magazines asking you for interviews, not even about him and unsurprisingly multiple modelling offers.
“what? you don't need all that i can give you what you want,” he scoffed, shifting his head to look at your screen to see dm after dm either wanting you or wanting something from you. it made bakugou feel hot, burning from inside his chest. these people literally found you from a couples post and still, they are asking you for a date? bakugou grumbled even seeing some verified ticks, some lengthy very descriptive sexual ones and some even trying to convince you that they were better for you than him.
“i know you would baby, i can't believe this…. people are really desperate out here. nobody is better for me than you.” you sighed, shaking your head before switching your phone off and setting it down on the bedside table. the uncomfortable jealousy and anger that started to ruminate in bakugou slowed to a halt at your action, especially as you began to kiss along his face to smooth out the wrinkles from his frowning. you always had a sixth sense to your boyfriend, easily telling when he was beginning to get ticked off.
“right katsu?” you pressed him for a response, placing a palm flat on his toned chest. you began feeling him up as bakugou rolled his eyes, lifting himself to rest his forearms by your head, holding his body above you.
“obviously idiot. nobody would be able to deal with you as i can. or love you as i can.” his usual confident demeanour washing back over him. though the thought did fly around his head like an irritating bee as he stared down at you, grinning back at him. your teeth a shiny white and your pupils dilating at his proximity, looking at him as if you’d do anything if he asked. what if he wasn’t the best for you? you were more than perfect for him, the way you loved him so deeply and tenderly, how you gave him advice that was almost obvious but not in the way that it was predictable but that it made sense. how you matched his wit and humour, his outbursts and his harsh streaks. the whole world was already in love with you from not even knowing you, what if they did?
instead, bakugou ignored the thought, focusing on the way you fit like a missing piece under him, your lips with a slight pink shine to the chapstick you smeared on earlier. his own cologne from his hoodie you were wearing mixed with your sweet body wash filled his nose and he admired the way your nose scrunched as you asked him to move so you could take off his shirt.
you sent him an almost delirious grin as he did, your hands all over him, one finding its way to the back of his head to pull him down to meet your lips. the movement taking him off guard as he shifted his weight one arm and rested a hand on your stomach, moving to paw at your breast.
for you, every kiss with bakugou felt like your first, starting soft and sweet before one of you break, swiping your tongue across his plush bottom lip for more. you whine into the kiss as bakugou hums, breaking away with a string of spit between you both. you rest your palm on his face, your thumb rubbing at the stubble scattered on his cheek. your hot breaths fanned each other's faces, eyes flickering from his lips to his darkened vermillion eyes.
“i love you katsuki,” you whispered.
“i love you too baby.” bakugou wasn’t ready to share you with the world yet, but that honestly didn’t matter when he had you under him and giving all your love.
since then, you did take up many of the opportunities that were being offered to you, very graciously accepting this new influencer, socialite lifestyle. your face has appeared in many fashion magazines and interviews, discussing your style and inspirations with a few questions sprinkled in about your love life. every cover and spread were bought in bulk by your boyfriend, each one framed and hung up in his trophy room. perfectly complementing his own. soon after you were offered collaborations, invited to brand meetings and made your own little circle of friends in the industry.
bakugou loved it for you. he could see you thriving in this new environment and seeing your pretty face on a billboard while he was out on a patrol was always a massive benefit for him. he’d be happy to take your instagram photos, knowing your best angles and always patient when you’d want a couple more pictures. he’d even sit with you while you went through promotional packages testing new products and eating the complimentary cookies.
it was very common for you to be invited to brand dinners, dressing your prettiest for a free meal and drinks all for an instagram picture and tag in return; one of your favourite parts of your job. you were getting ready in katsuki’s bedroom, you preferred his home to your own as he had a massive closet with a collage of mirrors and great lighting. bakugou never complained about the fact one of his many wardrobes had been taken over by you. he also loved your presence in his home, reminders of you everywhere even when you weren't physically there.
“katsu! katsuki!” you called out from the other side of his apartment, breaking bakugous attention from the game he was currently playing with kirishima on his television. bakugou’s other two childhood and now pro-hero friends, midoriya and kaminari sat on the opposite sofa eating and chatting amongst themselves.
bakugou’s eyes were fixated on the screen and the controller gripped tightly in his hands, kirishima clearly beating him. “you're a fuckin cheat,” he groaned making the redhead beside him grin, “yes babe? what’s wrong?” he shouted back, hands flailing at the screen as kirishima won yet another match.
“you’re just shit at this bro,” kirishima chuckled, taunting him as his friend turned to punch him in his shoulder. too caught up with play fighting, he failed to hear the soft patter of your bare feet across the hall coming towards him.
you chuckled seeing the lump of spiky red and blonde hair on the sofa, still acting the same as they did back at school. your hands held a tangled dainty necklace around your neck, one bakugou got you for your first magazine front cover. midoriya noticed your presence first, always so sweet to you, “you look pretty y/n, where are you going?”
bakugou’s head whipped up with the mention of your name, his eyes immediately widening at your appearance. he untangled himself from his friend to swing himself over the back of his sofa to make his way towards you, almost tripping up on the way. you had a gorgeous long wine red dress that hugged your body with a slit on one leg. a cowl neck rested on your breasts framing them deliciously with thin straps to hold it all up. your face was also painted beautifully, your hair styled with decorative golden pins holding it all neatly together. times like these bakugou imagined he’d be much happier if he could keep you locked in his apartment only for him to see.
bakugou stepped in close to you resting his hands delicately on your elbows as both your hands fidgeted with the tangled necklace you wore. “fuck, you look sexy baby.” bakugou grunted, completely ignoring the little audience you had watching you both.
you shyly rolled your eyes whispering thanks. then another round of thanks and giggles when kirishima and kaminari went to compliment you too. “sorry to bother you, but could you untangle this for me please?” you looked up at your boyfriend sheepishly, him immediately getting to work on the tangle you made.
“course baby, you’re never a bother.” he breathed. bakugou took to work, his rough hands holding the thin chain and pendant, his hands so large you had to lift your head slightly to accommodate.
with a mouth full of chicken stuffed in his cheeks midoriya spoke up, “where are you going anyway, y/n?”
you glanced over to him, your head at an awkward angle as you tried not to move too much. soon enough bakugou circled behind you to try to reclasp your necklace.
“me? i have a brand dinner party thing, for this makeup brand. lots of big names tonight so i wanna look the part, you know?” the nervousness was evident in your tone as you responded, playing with the rings on your fingers. you could feel bakugou’s hot breath on your neck as he fiddled with the clasp.
“you always look the part, better than the part. so don’t come with that nonsense.” bakugou kissed your cheek as if to soften his words, finally letting go of the annoying necklace and centring it perfectly between your collarbones.
“yeah you look great, i’m sure it will be a fun time.” kaminari chipped in, the other two boys nodding in unison like birds.
bakugou stood outside his apartment building, holding both your hands and pecking your lips repeatedly. a car had come to pick you up, you could hear the rumbling of the engine behind you as bakugou drilled his words into you. “when it finishes or you’re tired or you just don't wanna be there anymore call me okay? i’ll come pick you up. if anyone tries anything on you call me and i’ll beat them up too, okay?”
you both looked out of place, his towering figure in his hoodie, joggers and slippers, holding you, dressed to the nines. you rolled your eyes at his words, loving your very caring and protective boyfriend. you returned his kisses, “i know katsu, i’ll call you if you’re not already sleeping.” you untangled yourself from him, making your way to the car.
“hey no! i’m not gonna be asleep, call me for anything okay! and text me when you get there.” he shouted to you as you opened the car door.
you nodded, giving him a wide smile back, blowing him a kiss. you watched him softly grab the air as if it was your kiss, then stuffing his hands in his pockets. bakugou mouthed a tender, “love you.” to which you copied heartily with a wave as the car slowly drove off.
something was definitely wrong. bakugou got a text from you roughly an hour and a half before the party was about to end from you asking if he was awake and if it was possible he could pick you up. and he did, fulfilling his boyfriend duties with ease, pulling stuffing on his driveable slippers and driving to the location you sent him.
he sent you a text to say he was outside and in less than a minute you were sliding into the passenger seat beside him with a blank look on your face and a stiff tension in the air. you still partly looked the same as when you left, your dress in place and your bag on your shoulder. maybe your eyeshadow had faded slightly and your hairpins weren't holding back strands as they did earlier. there wasn’t a smile to be seen nor a ramble of chatter like usual about how the event was as if your natural glow had dimmed.
“thanks for picking me up,” you said stoically, moving to put your seat belt on and facing forward, your hands in your lap. you couldn't even find it in yourself to comment on bakugou’s cute sleepy appearance, the back of his hair flat, suggesting he was probably in bed before you texted and his eyes less alert than usual.
bakugou leaned across the middle console to press a kiss to your cheek, “no problem, how was it?” he knew to tread carefully when you weren't your normal self, despite his desire to demand you tell him what was wrong right now so he could fix it.
“it was fine, like the usual.” your voice almost sad, coming off delicately like you mentally were in another world. bakugou switched the gears from park to drive, setting off back to his apartment.
“you sure? is something wrong?” he snuck glances at you, your face not giving away anything.
“no, i’m fine.” you still didn't meet his eyes, gazing out the window and watching the buildings pass in a blur.
“can i hold your hand?” it was common for bakugou to either have his hand resting on your thigh or hold your hand as he drove, though he never usually asked if he could. for him, it was a test to see if he did something wrong, waiting to hear a ‘no’ so he knows it was him.
you looked over to him for the first time, his eyes in a sleepy droop, bundled in his hoodie and sweatpants. you wish you stayed home with him instead of going out tonight. you gave him a soft nod, opening out your palm to which he quickly grasped and pulled to his lips kissing it with his eyes still on the road.
“you’re fuckin lying but it’s okay, you can tell me later. or tomorrow even.” he sent you a small smile, resting your linked hands in his lap as the car slid into a silence.
bakugou slowed to a stop in his apartment car park, switching his car off and his hand still clasped with yours. he turned to you, to see you looking at your feet, “you ready?”
you felt a little lighter than before, using the drive to think about the events of tonight. you let out a sigh, squeezing his hand softly. bakugou looked at you expectantly, his hand on the door handle to leave. he hummed to get your attention, a little encouragement to speak if you wanted.
you shifted your joined hands onto your lap and turned to him, with a deep breath you started, “i know it’s not much but i heard some of the girls there saying how i’ve only got this job and all these opportunities because of you. and i get it you know, that it is true if it wasn’t for you posting that picture of us nobody would be interested or want me. like everyone just sees me as dynamight’s girlfriend and… and… i can’t say i even disagree; i didn’t work for this from the ground up like them.”
you flicked your eyes up to bakugou, his eyebrows furrowed tightly and his eyes swimming as he was thinking over what you said. he grumbled under his breath, “those fucking idiots ruining your night,” before letting go of your hand and pulling you onto his lap, his fancy car spacious for the position. he placed one arm around your waist and another on your thigh allowing you to lean onto his chest. you snuggled into him, basking in his natural caramel scent and body heat.
“listen.” his voice a low rumble, his tiredness was looped within his words. a tone only reserved for you, “not everything in life has to be hard you know. you were given these chances, and used them and did it better than the rest of them. if anything, it felt crazy seeing you adapt so quickly to your new life, made me feel so proud of you.” he rubbed your arm as he spoke, soothing your sadness, “and yeah, this shit happened after i posted that picture because they saw something in you and so did other people considering your still booking major fucking brands months after. you hardly ever get asked about me i don’t know where they got that shit from, if anything i get asked about you loads now. last week someone wanted a picture of me and them by your advert in the mall.” he said it all like it was his genuine stream of thoughts; fluid and smooth.
you took your head from his chest and looked at him, his eyes already meeting yours. he looked so pretty in the dingy car park lighting, a harsh yellow light on the left side of his face. still, he continued, “and don’t say nobody would want you. even without all these followers and magazines, i’ll always want you. and i-i hope that’s still something for you?” the last line came out questioning, his head tilted unconfidently.
you gave him a small smile, gratitude filling you at having a lover like bakugou. one who has changed so much since you met him. clearing your worries was so easy for him and to then humble himself down endearingly at the end of it all. your words became a melody, the smile fluent in your voice, “your love is everything to me, katsuki.”
he rolled his eyes playfully, leaning his head back on the headrest to look down at you. “damn right it should be.” you kissed his velvet lips, the sleep settling into your limbs too. bakugou responded like it was second nature, sleepily pressing back.
“thank you for that. let’s get you inside before you fall asleep on me.”
“thank fuck, it’s way past my bedtime.”
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tteokdoroki · 11 days ago
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WHEN THE COOKIE CRUMBLES. | I.MIDORIYA.
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♡ pairing: izuku midoriya x fem!reader.
♡ word count: 16.3K
♡ rating: mature, 18+, mdni.
♡ genre: pro hero!au, bakery!au, angst, fluff + smut.
♡ summary: following a series of unfortunate events, misunderstandings and years of pining after your pro hero friend— all it takes is one batch of cookies ‘n cream frosting for the two of you to finally get together.
♡ warning(s): please read ! mutual pining, brief panic attack, heavy smut, soft sex ( characters aged up to twenties ), heavy food play!kink, praise!kink, unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it, kids ), fingering ( female receiving ), guided masturbation, exhibitionism, virginity loss, cumplay.
♡ author’s note(s): hi loves!! im FINALLY posting this belated b-day fic for deku! this was a part of @rat-zuki ‘s the deku agenda escapes no-one collab. thank you annie for letting me take part!! sorry this was so late ‘n be sure to check out everyone else’s works!! ily guys, i missed writing for deku so i hope you enjoy!
♡ masterlist | requests | kofi
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THERE are three three key stages to baking a cake. the dry ingredients, the wet ingredients and the all important frosting on top.
there are three key stages to anything really; a failed relationship, a breakdown over school or work— and even life itself. a beginning, a middle and an end. childhood, the weird teenage years where you tell your mother it’s not just a phase and that you really are destined to marry whatever idol you had hanging on the back of your bedroom door...and then finally; adulthood. the confusing cesspool of responsibilities, like taxes and groceries mixed with proper adult emotions and scenarios that didn’t allow you to throw a hissy fit when something didn’t go the way you planned…
at least that’s what society would tell you.
you would argue that you never quite made it to adulthood, the kind age of twenty three not quite visible in your smile lines just yet; especially with the youthful round off to the shape of your face. you hadn’t followed the correct rite of passage into being a grown adult either— having dropped out of college three years shy of graduating to pursue your real, yet childlike dream of owning a bakery. as it turned out, the IT degree your mother had bestowed upon you wasn’t really your thing and as the responsible adult she was; she had thrown a fit about you dropping out, although your father and step mom had been more than willing to support you. hitoshi shinsou, your best friend, followed you in pursuing your career too— something about a stupid childhood pact that meant wherever you went, he would follow.
your quaint little bakery tucked away in the cosiest of street corners in downtown musutafu had been the creme de la creme of your life thus far; business booming when you first took off, aged twenty, and has been keeping yours and shinsou’s heads afloat ever since. with your grandmother’s recipe book tucked under your arm, customers travelled from near and far to try the wondrous goods of the cookie crumble bakery ( a name that took you and your purple haired companion half a bottle of vodka to create ).
it didn’t matter where people were from or what burdens they carried on their shoulders when walking into your humble bakery— all that they knew was the welcoming scent of warm manuka honey and freshly baked bread—free of judgement to ease their souls. grownups became children again, finding solace in classic childhood treats like battenberg cakes and jammy dodgers while teenagers became mature on their first dates; treating one another to a slice of romance in the form of red velvet cakes to share with that week’s allowance. parents became heroes to their children with gapped-toothed smiles when treating them to your healthy, low-sugar goodies that wouldn’t rot through the rest of their teeth while pro heroes became civilians; relaxed and at ease.
yes, pro heroes.
you were lucky enough to have such esteemed guests visit your place regularly— having been uncovered after the cookie crumble bakery became a popular destination for teachers to give gifts of sweet treats to the pros after visiting schools. Once they had a bite of what you had to offer, the heroes would always come running back for more.
pro hero deku, otherwise humbly known as izuku midoriya, was one of your favourite guests; he found himself addicted to your grandmother’s decadent chocolate brownies after being gifted them by a group of teenage girls he’d saved— coming in biweekly for years to try whatever caught his eye in the display cabinets that day. it was only natural— and pretty fucking typical — for you to have developed a raging crush on the man, falling for the honeycomb freckles on his cheeks and the gumdrop sugar laced into the smiles izuku sent your way, making you weak in the knees as they tugged at your doughy and easily manipulated heart.
you couldn’t help it, izuku was so warm.
made you feel special and gooey on the inside like a freshly baked chocolate chip cookie. shinsou would tell you that you were whipped, from the way you gifted the hero with an extra of whatever he was ordering despite the fact that you both knew he could afford it. he was just so warm. yet you were a baker and izuku was a hero and in his world there was never any room for a civilian like you.
so you busy yourself with creams and custards for your favourite glazed danishes— ignoring yourself and your annoying friend shinsou in favour of settling for the position of izuku’s little baking friend.
“your crush is coming, sugar,” shinsou tells you with a lazy smile, leaning over the counter during his break from waiting tables and chatting with the old ladies in the back corner. the ones who love him and give him hard boiled candies and call him sugar.
you jump up from your place behind it, eyes shooting to the door with its charming little bell swinging from side to side— alerting the entry of the pro hero ( who, if any bigger, would break the tiny door frame of your quaint little establishment ) tired from work but a smile still on his face.
“a crush, huh?” izuku hums, lips quirked up curiously, dampening his darling expression— his buff frame joins shinsou in leaning over the counter, strong arms crossed and showing the flex of his muscles from under his teal hero suit. he must have come straight from work to see you, or rather to see if you’d gotten his order finished like you said you would. nonetheless, your heart flutters.
snapping back to reality, you make an attempt to shake your head— waving your arms in protest before your purple haired friend can speak for you again. you fail. “little yn has a crush on someone, don’t you?” his eyes speak for his teasing tone.
“oh yeah?”
oh no. “definitely not,” you reach over and slap a hand over shinsou’s mouth. apron catching on your display cabinet and making you stumble, body flaming with embarrassment. izuku chuckles. “i don’t have a crush on anyone. don’t be stupid. i’m too busy running this place all by myself.”
you scowl at hitoshi, who only offers you a measly shrug as you slowly pull your hand from his mouth and izuku laughs a little harder at your interactions, having known you both for just over two years.
“ouchie, you know i help you run this place too.” your best friend says to you, winking.
“it’s true,” izuku adds after a slight pause, looking like he was going to say something else before changing his mind. he's grinning now, however. “i’ve never seen anyone entertain old ladies like shinsou does!”
both men give each other a knowing nod. shinsou speaks next. “exactly.”
“what? hitoshi, oh my god...whatever,” you deflate with defeat, withdrawing your body from the two men and avoiding deku’s sweet gaze as if you might melt when he looks at you. “i’m gonna go and grab your cheesecake izuku...neither of you, try to get into any trouble while i’m gone,” you let your eyes flicker to the pro hero briefly, allowing yourself to bask in his attention only just before retreating to the back room to retrieve the matcha cheesecake he’d ordered for his mother’s birthday.
you fan yourself on the way there, hoping to cool the heat that flushes through your body from the pro hero’s presence.
izuku is warm, but you’re drawn to his warmth like an ant to sugar.
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whenever baking a cake, you advise combining the dry ingredients first.
no matter how many times a day you find yourself doing it, sieving together mixes of flour, salt, baking soda and other dry things is always a process you’ll find soothing. fine combing the ingredients with a sieve whilst adding air to your soon to be cake— much like breathing life into a creation, nurturing the very thing you created—much like love. in a strange metaphorical sort of way,
you were always careful with baking soda however; a teaspoon too much could destroy even the most cared for of things. practically explosive. it could cause a whole cake to blow. it reminded you of those science experiments you would do as a child, mixing the dangerous combination of vinegar and baking soda until it imploded.
much like a certain friend of izuku’s that you knew.
katsuki bakugou was like an explosion, from his hair to the nature by which he worked. you hadn’t known him very well, he’d stopped by the bakery once or twice and other times you’d seen him prowling the streets for villains and other menaces to society— but you’d never given him more than a short wave and nod, in fear of setting him off. it’s not like you could stop him and have idle chit chat about how in love you were with his childhood rival.
“how much longer am i gonna have to wait for this damn cake?” dynamight hisses from a two seated table relatively close to your usual location at the bakery’s counter. his words are directed towards no one in particular, but are brittle and hang in the sweet scented air.
you look up from your place; assembling a box to have the cake ready to go after having it decorated quickly and letting your calm stare settle on the hot headed blonde, bored expression cast over well-aged features. his order had been placed at the last minute and izuku had warned you that his childhood friend was extremely impatient even when it came to the most fragile of things— but you hadn’t minded, it only meant the green haired hero would be spending more time with you during the wait.
“not long now mister kacchan— i mean lord, sorry king, dynamight...sir!” you squeak at the mean glare he sends your way, shifting his upper body so you have his full attention. your eyes shoot to deku’s face, still warm as always, inviting and safe— an apology woven into the green constellations of his own orbs. you hadn’t meant to let the old nickname slip...it was just, izuku had told you bakugou’s childhood name with an air of fondness one night when he’d stayed to help you close up while shinsou lay sick at home. the air and softness to his voice that night was something you just couldn’t forget. “it’s just chilling in the fridge for now… i’ll need it to be cool in order to add the filling between the layers, otherwise it could melt from the heat of the sponges!”
since the cake was ordered so last minute and bakugou couldn’t care less about the type, you’d gone with your grandmother’s classic strawberry victoria sponge—a cake made for any occasion, especially since he hadn’t disclosed that to you either.
bakugou’s ruby gem eyes flick over your form, up and down...up and down...most likely judging you for your chocolate smeared apron and flour dusted cheeks. he tuts, pressing a closed fist into his own, yet, scarred cheek before leaning its respective arm against the table, looking away from you and allowing your body to sag with relief. “damn nerd, been hangin’ around with the civilians way too fuckin’ often,” katsuki says gruffly as he nods his head over to you. “‘specially this one, startin’ to rub off on ‘er,”
the pair of you visibly stiffen, the box you’d been making clattering to the floor from your slippery butter hands and temporarily freeing you from the evil clutches of katsuki bakugou. the nerve of him! to put you and izuku in such a situation; you in particular, one off-handed comment like that and someone, anyone could get the wrong idea. pin-pointing you as the little civilian girl who clings way too much to everyone’s favourite and soon to be number one hero. who knew bakugou could be so upfront? had shinsou blabbed to him? you wouldn’t be surprised, your menace of a best friend usually handled affairs with the explosive pro. ducking your head, you miss the way bakugou smirks knowingly and the way red flares up against deku’s cheeks, bubbling brightly beneath his freckles and creating the illusion of stars against a pink summer’s night sky.
bakugou thought it was funny how oblivious the two of you were and if he was going to be stuck here waiting on a damn cake he sure as hell was going to make the best out of it.
composing himself with a cough to clear his throat, a slap to his rival’s stupid head and a roll of his broad shoulders— izuku picks up the conversation again at a less awkward point. “so kacchan, what’s this cake for anyway? you’re usually not one for sponges,” he asks, and you hum happily to yourself at the cheeky lilt to your crush’s tone. he wasn’t wrong however, in all the times bakugou had visited the cookie crumble bakery; he’d only ever gone for the smaller and healthier options like granola bars or oat and raisin cookies. never anything as pretty nor refined as this.
“s’not for me, y’fuckin’ shit-stick!” the blonde grunts in his own defense, heat flashing across his cheeks as izuku gives him a taste of his own medicine. not so cocky now are you lord dynamight… or whatever the hell your stupid hero name is, you muse in your mind. “s’for kirishima’s welcome home party tonight. he’s coming back from that long-ass mission abroad ‘n racoon eyes said he’d be mad if i didn’t get him a stupid fuckin’ cake for his stupid fuckin’ surprise party.”
“you don’t like surprise parties, kacchan?” deku teases, with a bright smile that you catch in all its glory— smile so high on his cheeks it almost locks away those precious forest eyes you love so much.
“no i don’t like fuckin’ surprise parties, get off my dick nerd.”
the interaction between the two heroes reminds you somewhat of a lover’s quarrel— bringing an amused grin to your cherry lips. “kirishima? as in… the red riot?” you interject without meaning to, your mind away from you as you make quick work of evenly slicing the two sponges in half, piping fresh cream from the centre of the first half — moving outwards. you follow the cream up with a layer of strawberry jam, freshly sliced strawberries and your secret ingredient— white chocolate shavings. you repeat the process smoothly after stacking one layer on top of the other, the boys watching you closely. it was probably for the best that you had interrupted them as well; as though not to disturb your afternoon round of customers. the two stop and look at you, bakugou nodding his head silently. “and you’re throwing a party for him?”
“‘course i fuckin’ am!” the explosive pro looks to you, sending a shiver of nerves down your spine— your incredulous tone having perhaps offended him slightly. or maybe it was because you’d hit a nerve like he had with you and izuku, you would know, you would recognise having a defensive stance over your harboured feelings anywhere.
“that’s sweet of you,”
“whatever,” the silence flickers between you both with bakugou’s seemingly finalising words, and deku doesn’t know if he should step in— feeling an impending explosion from his old friend. but instead, katsuki surprises you by standing from his seat, reaching your shaking form in three short strides to poke his nose in the way you begin to decorate the top layer of red riot’s cake. he points to the way you’ve swirled red food colouring into the cream icing on top, smirk evident in his voice as he speaks. “you a fan or somethin’?”
you blink, surprised, and look behind the large hero to deku, who stands rigid with a face twisted into an expression you can’t quite read. “of who? red riot?” your question earns you a grunt from bakugou. “uh, yeah, sure! ‘m a fan of all of you guys really, it’s an honour that you’re even standing here in my bakery!”
“s’not what i asked, flour girl,” bakugou prides himself in the pun, eyes trained on the delicate way your fingers move to perfect the gift to his friend. “you a fan of shitty hair or not?”
you bite your lip, lifting the hand you’d used to pipe finishing swirls of pink cream on top of the cake ( adding strawberries to each one before assembling the box around the finished piece ) and wipe your brow, thinking of an answer. “y-yeah! i guess i am!” you sigh, breathless with relief.
“then yer invited to his party, shitty hair’d like to see his fans.”
you jump back in shock, flustered that the pro hero is extending an invite to his friend’s party to some plain jane like you, and shake your head vigorously as you let bakugou heave the cake over the glass counter. “oh no,” you excuse yourself as quickly and politely as possible. “i couldn’t, partying isn't really my scene and i couldn’t intrude on something personal like that—!”
your hurried words enter one of katsuki’s ears and fly out the other, an unimpressed mask falling over his defined features. “i weren’t askin’. i was tellin’. yer invited ‘n i expect to see y’there for shitty hair. b‘sides deku’s gonna be there.” the blonde tells you like a stonewall not willing to budge an inch. you’re left with a wide open mouth, floundering like a stupid fish as the great god of explosions and dynamite or whatever the fuck it is leaves your bakery swiftly, accompanied by the swing of the bell.
you turn to deku who only plates up a sheepish grin, fingers finding the back of his neck as he rubs it gently. “i will be there,” he affirms softly, getting ready to leave as well. “it could be fun, just us two and kacchan’s raging crush on kirishima, huh?”
just us two.
“yeah,” you nod, replacing your bewildered expression with a shy smile. “i’ll meet you there, then?”
deku hums approvingly, filling your body with warmth as he approaches the door, offering you a little salute while his hand makes contact with the handle. “i’ll text you the address.”
the warmth is still there even when he’s gone and the words izuku uttered leave tears in your cotton candy heart.
just us two.
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the stone path leading up to dynamight’s private neighbourhood and home crunches underneath your combat boots like praline, as you walk towards the source of his welcome home party for red riot. nerves flitter through your bloodstream too, making the fabric of your tartan dress all too tight and a little itchy against your skin.
maybe you should have changed.
the words run through your mind, but are often counteracted by the thought of how much effort you’d put into your outfit just hours before. the fabric of what you wear matches the colour of your crush’s hair— a detail you hoped that deku would notice when you met him in the party. “i look good,” you tell yourself in an attempt of self-reassurance, repeating the praise shinsou had drilled into you hours prior as he helped you to get ready. he could tell how worried you were about going to a party where every guest had some kind of celebrity status and possibly earned more than what your bakery was worth— but you deserved to be there as much as the next person; besides parties were the perfect environments to get to know your crush— apparently. especially if you could get him alone.
that piece of advice, you know hitoshi had pulled straight off of wikihow.
it’s the thought that counts, you suppose.
squeezing the box of cookies you’d caved in, making them as an extra gift, you continue to follow the bass boosted thumping of music towards what your phone told you was bakugou’s place. you’d acquired his address, in a text from your companion deku— your heart practically dropping out of your ass while you buffed out your eyeshadow, forcing your purple haired friend to answer for you. no matter how many times you’d texted izuku for orders and pick up dates, your still heart raced at the sight of the green heart emoji next to his name.
you couldn’t help but wonder if he would be excited to see you too, even though it had only been a few hours since you’d last seen each other— you couldn’t help but dream up scenarios of what your night would be like. would his trusting emerald eyes drop to the form of your outfit? would he compliment you, tell you how pretty you looked and how he was so glad that you came? would you sneak away from the crowds to a quiet room where you’d tell him ‘i like you, izuku,’ and seal the night with a gentle kiss?
it’s this train of thought that helps you reach the mansion much faster; bakugou’s lawn is littered with pro heroes and empty red solo cups alike. you’d never pegged bakugou as the type of guy to throw a party like this— the handful of times that you’d met him indicated that he preferred his own company and that of a select few...but maybe these were the lengths he’d go for someone he cared about. for kirishima.
and it made you think back to those warm forest irises and sun kissed freckles; and how much you’d be willing to do the same for izuku if he asked.
you make your way up to the front door fairly quickly after that; ringing the buzzer and taking the opportunity to peer through the glass windows on either side of the door, checking out the life of the gathering inside while you wait. it seems so fun, with booze flowing and choruses of laughter practically shaking the whole neighbourhood and you shift on your feet at the possibility of actually enjoying yourself tonight.
the door finally opens and you jump, snapping back to the person who now stands before you. a security guard stands in the spot where the door once was— clipboard in arm, dressed in all black. you don’t blame katsuki for hiring security, although they were all pro heroes and could most definitely handle themselves, too many high profile people in one place could definitely become a cesspool for villain activity.
“name and invitation.” the security guard states simply, jaw set in place and beady eyes squinting down at you from behind darkened shades. offering him a polite smile, you give him your name and watch as he flicks through what must be the guest list on his clipboard. his brow raises before speaking again. “you’re not on the list, do you have an invitation?”
“o-oh,” you stutter, brows furrowing. although you had only been invited at the last minute, you would have thought bakugou or at least midoriya would have taken care of any details like this. though, you couldn’t entirely blame them, they were pro heroes above your friends and acquaintances. “uh—can you check again? i’m a friend of izuku midoriya’s…”
recognition sparks within the security guard’s eyes but he doesn’t budge; letting the party bustle behind him. “i just checked, you’re not there.”
“wait!” you squeal as he moves to close the door, suddenly flustered by this new information. “can you just— check again? i should be there, really, i’m a friend…”
“sure you are, sweetheart.” he says rudely, flicking his gaze down to the guest list once more but barely checking through it, finding amusement in the way you sag with defeat before moving to shut the door again.
it’s with this you realise that this guy thinks you’re just another crazed fan trying to sneak into a gathering of famous people, famous heroes with a lame excuse of being their friend. you wonder how many other girls have tried this on hero security before and decide to switch to a different and hopefully more convincing approach.
shoving your foot into the door, you huff and muster up as much confidence as possible, trying not to lose your balance by hopping on one foot and holding the box of baked goods in both of your hands. “i’m the caterer, i made the desserts for the party and brought along some more. i need to check on dynamight’s cake, so if you could please just go and get him so we can clear this whole thing up!” you cry, annoyance slipping through the cracks of your tone but you try to keep your cool and hold up your box, hoping this lunatic will see the resemblance between your logo and the one on your cake box inside.
“you think no one’s tried that excuse before? you’re not on the guest list, you don’t have an invitation. now scram, punk, before i call the police.” the security guard leans down to your height, jabbing a finger into your chest and making you wobble. “you can ask dynamight yourself. in your dreams. i’m not leaving this door for you to sneak in.”
embarrassment starts to bubble under your skin as guests both inside and outside of the party start to notice your predicament— you’re putting up so much of a fight but you don’t even like parties, drawing unnecessary attention to yourself. you’d like to say you didn’t know why, but that would’ve been a giant fib. you’re still here because of your raging crush on izuku midoriya and the way he looked at you with pure excitement when you said you’d see him at the party earlier today.
so you ground yourself, ready to lay one out on the security guard when glass shattering behind him disrupts your flow. the pair of you turn your heads only to spot deku stumbling down the stairs, standing over the shattered pieces of a now broken vase. “oh fuck, kacchan’s gonna kill me,” he giggles to himself with a slight slur to the edge of his words. his beauty is like a ray of hope to this bleak situation— a tight black shirt splayed across his chest and arms, tucked into cargo pants of a matching shade. you’ve never seen him dressed so casually before, tattoos intertwining with the scars his hero costume usually hides.
you can’t help it, voice bubbling up before you can stop yourself. “izuku, hey! think you could help me out?”
“you know this chick, mr.midoriya?” the guard grunts as you make a weak attempt to step through the entryway and meet with the pro hero, forcing you to stop in your place. for a second, your eyes lock with deku’s and it feels as if electricity has started to crackle in the air. his cheeks are rosy just as they were that day in your bakery and your heart hammers in your chest just at the sight of him.
“don’t think so!” he hiccups quickly, smiling big. he’s tipsier than you thought. the world around you crumbles and you feel like a knife has been shoved straight through your chest— stopping the very organ keeping you alive from beating. from feeling. even when drunk, you’re not even memorable to the hero you’d befriended over the last two years. were you really just another civilian? like bakugou had called you back at the bakery, like the security guard thought you were? a cloud of betrayal settles above your head, laced with hurt as you back up on the doorstep. “nice outfit though! the green… ohmygod, the green reminds me of my hero costume!!”
it’s not long until deku becomes distracted by the yelling of his friends located deeper within the party and you watch him stagger away with humiliated tears welling in your eyes. “sorry kid,” the security guard hums, using his size to back you up and out of the door some more. “better luck next time.”
“right,” you say, voice shaking, hurt now twisting through your bloodstream. shifting the box in your grip you shove it towards the guard before he has a chance to lock you out of the party for good. “c-can...can you just make sure bakugou and kirishima get these? i promise… i promise ‘m just a baker,”
you walk away without giving the security guard an opportunity to mock you like you were some stupid fan— quickly making your way as far from bakugou’s house as physically possible, putting great distance between yourself and izuku. it hurts to breathe, the world falling away from you and you feel so silly. to have believed that you were something significant in the life of a pro hero, in the life of izuku midoriya himself. there were probably tonnes of people just like you in his daily routine, providing small and irrelevant acts of service to punctuate his busy days of saving lives.
you were just a baker and he was a hero. you knew that, you always knew that.
you weren’t special to him, like he was to you.
realisation and panic settle in the base of your rib cage, crawling through your lungs and sticking to your throat like webs of black tar. you can’t breathe. you have to get out, you need to go home. the dress you wear, colours of forests and ferns like izuku’s hair and eyes are a pungent reminder of the truth and suddenly feels too tight around your body. somehow you stumble out of bakugou’s gated neighbourhood and frantically search through your mini backpack for your phone; desperate to call shinsou. you could do with his comfort right now.
your best friend picks up after three rings, voice heavy with sleep when he answers. “what in fucks name do you want—?”
“toshi,” you say, holding back a fresh wave of tears just from hearing his voice over the line. “can you come...c-can you come pick me up, please?”
you hear shuffling on shinsou’s end, possibly him sitting up in his bed and adjusting his phone in his grip. “what? why? i thought you were at blasty bitch’s house party—“
“please,” you reiterate, hoping the emotion in your voice is enough to grab your best friend’s attention. you don’t want to talk about your embarrassment for the night, you don’t want to think about it either. “pleaseplease, just come get me...toshi, i wanna go home,”
“text me the address sugar, i’ll come get you.” he tells you sternly, hanging up the phone.
you wait for only twenty minutes in the cool night air before shinsou’s rust bucket rolls up outside the gated community and it takes everything you have in you not to burst into tears once again. your childhood best friend jumps out of his car; hoodie in hand to pull over your head before guiding you back with him and strapping you into your seat.
no words are exchanged as he drives you home, it’s silent when he unlocks your bakery and takes you to your apartment on the top floor. the same treatment is given as he wipes away your makeup, runs you a shower and helps you change for bed. you’re so grateful for hitoshi shinsou, you’d be sure to thank him with baked goods later on when you weren’t numb from crying.
he liked your apple danishes best, the ones without green apples.
you decide as you fall asleep, you’ll always hate the colour green.
—-
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after mixing all things dry for your cake batter; you’d usually work on the next step of wet ingredients. a sad mixture of milk and eggs and oil— grim to look at, gross to feel.
you suppose that’s what’s been resonating with you the most recently. getting over your crush on izuku has been one of the most awful experiences of your life thus far— you exaggerate but feel that it’s true. you feel sluggish more often than not, screaming your frustration and tears into your pillows before the day’s begun and you have to open up the cookie crumble bakery for business.
embarrassment, anger and sadness roll in heavy waves over your body— hitting you at the most random moments during the day whenever the party incident comes to mind, making you cringe and retreat to the back room in the middle of serving customers, often leaving shinsou to carry the brunt of your work. he understands for the most part, checking up on you when you’ve been gone for too long or he thinks that you’re crying...but his patience is wearing thin even as your best friend and exhaustion sets itself in his eyebags at a greater rate than usual. there’s only so much that he can take on to be there for you during this situation.
you just want to get over him, stupid, sunny, warm and gorgeous izuku midoriya. forget that he ever held your heart between strong hands and powerful fingers and move on with your life instead of feeling like crap for the stunt he pulled. but for some reason, you find yourself holding on to the slow treks in the evergreen woods of his eyes and his inviting smile, you cling to the moments you’d spent laughing with him over the counter and having him keep you company on late shifts.
you couldn’t let him go even if you tried, even if midoriya hadn’t called or texted you within a week of seeing him shit faced at the party.
even if he hurt you, you didn’t want to be the normal girl who let izuku midoriya pass by without another word.
“incoming at nine ‘o clock,” shinsou mutters to you as he briskly walks past your position at the counter, replenishing the breakfast muffins, and slips into the back room. you barely have time to look at him nor give him your confused frown before the little bell at the doorway goes off and someone steps into your bakery.
whipping your head over at the sound, your blood runs cold at the sight of the man who’s been avoiding you for damn near a week straight. “hey yn,” he says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head and undercut like he always does. deku looks good, sweat lining his brow and cheeks tinted pink as if he’d been out on a run and decided to swing by. your suspicions are correct when you get the scope on his outfit, plain khaki shirt and grey joggers— showing off everything he has to offer.
but you won’t allow yourself to be tempted, building walls up and around your cookie cutter heart. “mister midoriya,”
“c’mon yn, please don’t be like that,”
“‘m not being like anything izuku,” you sigh and you can see his posture sink a little as you continue your work of filling up the trays of sweets in the display cabinets. spending way too long fixing details that don’t need fixing— anything to keep your gaze away from the face of the hero who could crush your heart if he wanted to.
the hero’s mouth opens and closes as he ponders his next words— not used to the way you give him a cold shoulder. “then please don’t ignore me,” izuku says with a pleading tone and you mentally curse shinsou for leaving you alone with him, already wanting to plunge back into the swirling sea of dartmouth twinkling in his orbs. “i want to apologise to you, for the other night…and just...try to explain things,”
stopping your work, you glance up at deku and wait for him to speak. “go ahead,” you say expectantly, giving him a chance before you change your mind. part of you can’t help debating it briefly...if he’s undeserving of your forgiveness, especially after how you were treated by both him and the guard who’d humiliated you— while the other doesn’t want to be trapped in this fog of resenting izuku.
he takes a minute, taking out his headphones and pausing his running playlist, you wonder if he’d taken a run today to sort through his words, adding your bakery to his usual route. “i’m so, so sorry for what i said to you that night,” deku starts, idly fiddling with his fingers. “you know i wouldn’t ever forget you on purpose and if i had known kacchan hadn’t figured things out with your invite...if i hadn’t been so drunk either, i would have vouched or left with you. i was just so drunk that i lost my head and...hurt you in the process,”
you mull over his words as they feed at all parts of your heart, making you want to forgive izuku—and you could. you could if he knew exactly how he made you feel and acted accordingly. cracking each of your fingers in preparation to spill your guts out to deku, you take a deep breath. “you really did hurt me, izuku...you made me feel small, insignificant,” you mumble, voice barely above a whisper so that your early morning guests can’t hear. “like i was unworthy of being your friend? purposefully or not it felt like you didn’t want to know me and despite how long we’d known each other...like i was just another civilian in your life. it really sucked, especially when you didn’t reach out to me after,”
there’s a beat of silence as the weight of the world lifts from your shoulders, and you already feel so much better having expressed how you truly feel.
“i’m sorry,” izuku whispers to you again, reaching over the counter to grip one of your hands. “i value your friendship so much, and hurting you, someone i care about, is one of the worst mistakes i’ve ever made. it’s no excuse for me to have been so drunk, i never get like that and so fast…wish i had a better explanation for you aside from the fact that i was nervous.”
you feel the sentiment to his words, but there’s a burning question on the tip of your tongue. “i think i can forgive you, i just need to know why’d you drink your nerves away?” you ask him light-heartedly.
izuku taps his nose, shaking his head but relief floods his veins at your willingness to accept his apology. “can’t say, it’s a secret for now.”
at that you smile, he may not be ready to tell you now but you’ve had enough of the heavy stuff to last you. just glad that muggy feeling is no longer crawling down your spine. there’s a flutter in your rib cage, like a butterfly from izuku’s forest has been set free in your body when you realise your hands are still linked and shyly pull away— both of you with flustered expressions. deku steps away from the counter, ear-splitting and a golden smile on his face as he stumbles over the nearby table, alleviation hanging in the air between you.
“i should uh, get going. i’m so sorry again,” he tells you, abashedly trying to fix the chairs and table he’d tripped over. “hero duty calls!”
“quit apologising, nerd and get outta here,” you giggle, heart squeezing at the adorable nature of your friend. although you know that despite the hiccup...your feelings for him are still there.
giving you a nod, deku quickly makes his way to the door— ready to walk out when he stops and waves to you for attention, seemingly remembering something. “oh and before i go! could i place a quick order? i need some cupcakes and other treats for a baby shower. for a girl friend of mine. i really can’t stay much longer to discuss the details! but i’ll text you?”
and then for the second time, involving the one and only izuku midoriya and the clutches of your feelings...your world breaks like shattered glass and egg shells. a girlfriend. your crush, the man you’ve been pining over… has a girlfriend. and you feel as if you’ve been pushed right back to square one. being insignificant enough to have been forgotten and not been told about izuku’s brand new relationship. what did it matter though? you were only his friend. this whole visit, this whole week apart was probably to plan a gentle way to break down the news to you. and still deku let you pine over a lost cause. you barely have time to respond to him before izuku is out of your shop and down the street— leaving you to revel in the massive blow he’s just delivered to your achy-breaky heart.
a girlfriend. someone you’ll never be for him.
“so i take it that went well?” shinsou asks you cheerily, hand on your back as he emerges from his hiding spot in the back room. he pats your shoulder once before returning to the sweet old ladies he usually waits on— without a clue of what’s just happened up front.
you stare blankly, feeling broken yet again as you look to the order text izuku has just sent you.
“yeah, it went splendidly,” you mutter weakly to yourself, clutching your chest as your heart crumbles to pieces in its place.
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weeks go by and barely anything has changed.
despite apologising for hurting your feelings that night; deku’s actions fail to replicate his words and you bottle up poisonous sips of resentment towards him. you can no longer look into his eyes whenever he’s around, you stop seeing lush mint forests and fairytale land but instead stormy sage waters swirling with inner hatred. you can’t stand to look at deku knowing how much of a fool you were to think you could mean something more to him, to have fallen for him.
you throw yourself into working alongside shinsou, keeping yourself busy with baking and packing orders around the bakery. but your heart remains stung despite every cake you ice and every cookie you bake...it was hard and it didn’t help that izuku came around almost every other day thinking that your friendship would proceed on a normal level. you knew that if you lost izuku it would be your own fault; for letting your feelings get in the way of being there for someone so important to you— someone who’d taken their bare hands and forced you apart to make home in the shell of your body and your life.
he acted as if the air between you hadn’t changed and that the cells in your body weren’t trying to force him out and reject his sweetheart candy persona. how could he? when every second spent in the four walls of your bakery he was asking for another one of your specialty bakes for another special occasion for the girl of his dreams that he’d forgotten to tell you all about. a birthday, a baby shower, whatever it was that the hero needed; you baked it for him. and it could have been so easy to tell deku no, but you were too far gone in the candyland of love to say it.
and like the final stage of baking a cake was the icing, your final straw with izuku midoriya had been the wedding cake he’d asked you to make.
he was marrying this girlfriend of his that you’d never met, having a baby with this girl you’d never met.
it hadn’t taken you long to lock yourself in the back room; forcing yourself to work in izuku’s new commission for nights on end. your customers missed you, shinsou would tell you after closing up shop at eight pm and joining you in the kitchen— but there were no words, positive ones at least, that could roll over your tongue to make conversation with. your best friend worries for you, you know that, it hurts for him to not be able to console you in the way that you need— to soothe the burn left by izuku midoriya from his hot sugar grip.
you need closure and that’s why he makes the call.
for you it’s just another night; working on this stupid fucking wedding cake that makes you want to scream or burst into tears just by looking at it— makes you want to smash it to pieces as you layer sponge on top of sponge— smoothing the surfaces over with homemade cookies ‘n cream buttercream. working quietly, you don’t miss the way the doors to the back room creak open and the heavy footsteps that come with it.
“i already told you toshi,” you mumble, annoyed, letting your words twist with the still chill air. “i’m fine, i just want to get this stupid wedding cake done so i can go home and never have to see izuku midoriya again!” you feel triumphant by the end of your words, finally admitting the root of your sadness to yourself and your best friend— thinking that with this cake would come the last of your romantic woes. but something about the stillness to the room feels off, it lacks the crackle of a sarcastic comment from your best friend… something along the lines of ‘about time’ and ‘i knew it’. the words never come and the foot steps you’d heard earlier make no attempt to come closer to you.
it’s the silence that makes you look up.
and when you do, you’re met with fern hair and forest eyes and the constellations of cancer written across well aged cheeks. “izuku,” his name falls from your lips like a forbidden word and as soon as the warmth in your heart comes, it goes. you turn back to your work— focusing on crumbling more cookies to pair with your italian meringue buttercream.
“hey,” he says gently, as if what he says will break you. “shinsou called, he’s worried.”
and you care? is what you want to ask him, is what you fight with your tongue to say and swallow it down. because for weeks all izuku has done is take and take and take from you. surely he knew that he was the last person you wanted to see right now. so it’s silence that wins, that you choose and you return back to making the frosting.
deku waits for what seems like an eternity for your reply, but steps closer to your table and workstation when you don’t— sighing. “i’m kinda worried too, yanno,” are you? “...you’ve been so busy, i’ve barely seen you as of late. i just want to make sure you’re okay,” they all seem like sweet little lies, spun like cotton candy to muffle the loud noise and pain in your ear but you continue to stay silent.
reaching you, the pro hero takes a stance opposite you— looming over the other side of your work table while a heavy quietness bounces in the distance between your bodies, punctuated only by the sounds of your ingredients mixing. “i’m sorry.”
“do you even know what you’re apologising for?” you yell brokenly, finally piercing the tension flooding through the room with your butcher's knife— letting it rattle against the walls and push both you and izuku up against them. “do...do you even know what you’ve done?” the tail ends of your words are much quieter this time, and you watch as deku steps back— frightened by your outburst. remaining mute, his eyes search yours frantically for an explanation before you have to give one to him yourself. because if he doesn’t, it’ll show you that he truly doesn’t know how he hurt you and somehow; that causes a brighter pain to sting at the candied organs in your chest.
“i—“
dropping your spoon, you clap a hand over your mouth, begging the higher power that izuku doesn’t see the way your lips tremble as if you’re going to cry. “oh god,” your voice is muffled and weak, “you really don’t know… oh god i’m so stupid,” izuku doesn’t reach out for you nor does he make a move as you pull back away from the table. “you use me, get a girlfriend and keep on using me to make these little gifts and treasures for her that she’ll remember for life...when i was here, falling for you this entire time. and i thought you felt the same… i thought that you knew…i thought that you knew that i was in love with you...”
you gasp; confession to your crush out in the open before you can grab its tail and prevent it from ever coming out. all at once you feel crushed and humiliated— shooting your gaze away from the situation.
“you’re in love with me?” deku breathes steadily, but you don’t dare to look at his face for the way he might pity you.
shaking your head and blinking away salty tears, you sigh. “i think you should go back to your fiancé. i don’t know why shinsou called you. you don’t need to be here,”
“fiancé?” izuku chuckles wetly into the cool air filling the room, making you look at him. the corner of his cadmium orbs are creased with laughter lines and his lips are pulled back into a gentle grin. you feel demeaned, how could he laugh at you at such a time? “you mean ochako? oh my god…the stuff you did for me? you mean the babyshower and the wedding cake?”
“who?” you ask sternly, quickly wiping at your eyes and cheeks. “what?”
deku leans over the table to get a better look at you, frowning at your tired and puffy eyes but still looking at you with all that warmth he has for years. “ochako’s a friend from highschool, she recently got engaged to another friend of mine, iida— after finding out they were pregnant,” he explains to you softly, hoping that your sniffles calm down. “they hadn’t had the time to organise everything on their own, but i knew your bakery and its goods would go down a treat at their baby shower and wedding, so i took the liberty of ordering for them myself. they’re traditionalists, they just got everything in the wrong order.” he jokes at the end.
and just like that, the realisation clicks. “you don’t have a girlfriend?”
“no, yn,” izuku laughs again, rounding the table to grab your wrists— towering over you, with a gaze so fond as he directs it down at you. “ochako isn’t my girlfriend, nor my fiancé. i was kind of hoping someone else would want that spot,”
“that so?” your tummy churns, butterflies fluttering throughout but your body flushes with stupidity. you think back to weeks ago, when deku had asked you to make something for a girl friend of his— he had literally meant a friend who was a girl. what an idiot, you think to yourself, misreading izuku’s poor wording like that and causing all this grief.
the air shifts and you feel izuku’s familiar warmth surrounding you despite the cold in the back room. the hold he has on your wrists tightens and pulls you into the firm of his chest— not caring if you stumble. letting one of your wrists go, izuku tilts your head by your chin up to face him with just a thumb and a forefinger.
“i love you,” is what he answers you with, “you’re the one that i want,”
before you can say anything else to his confession, midoriya presses his lips against yours in a gentle chaste kiss— causing you to let out a muffled ‘mmf’of surprise. the action is sweet but all too short, with his teeth sinking into your lower lip as he pulls it back gently; giving you the choice to either kiss him or pull away. you need his lips on yours again, that insatiable hunger for sugar and dopamine driving you forward as you kiss izuku for a second time— tongue grazing over the swell of his lips, fingers tangling in the wildness of his hair to keep him close to you. deku welcomes you into his mouth with a sweet sigh, arms dropping to your waist and his large hands squeezing your hips.
your tongues work together instead of fighting, sliding across one another in a deep lover’s kiss and deku takes your lip lock as the opportunity to lift you onto the metal table— being mindful of your cake and work. “‘m sorry,” he says into your mouth, kissing you with more fever, growing handsier by the second.
“what for?” you sigh, tangling your fingers in his baby hairs— arching into all of midoriya’s touches.
one of deku’s hands moves to cup your jaw and the other to undo your apron from behind your back, making your breath hitch. “for hurting you, i didn’t wanna,” his nose brushes against yours and you can feel his peppermint breath against your cupid’s bow. “‘n i still did it...twice,”
you lean up to give a quick smooch to the pro hero before you, hands feeling out the bulk of his muscles from his shoulders to his slender waist— mapping out his body and basking in the reality that he is yours. “then ‘m sorry too, for making this situation what it was,” you breathe weakly, licking your lips nervously.
deku shakes his head, forehead resting against yours. “if it weren’t for you, i wouldn’t have gotten my shit together to tell you that i love you,”
your body vibrates at the three words. he loves you. the very sound of the syllables sets a fire alight in your lower belly and all you want to do is be close to him—press yourself against him and just feel everything that is izuku midoriya. you let him pull off your apron and push the cotton shirt you wear underneath up and over your head, his scarred hands are warm against your exposed flesh as they pinch at your sides. deku drops his lips from yours to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake, some nip at your skin causing deep bruises to blossom underneath your skin— marking you in a signature of his name with midnight blue and purple ink. the others are wet, izuku’s tongue curling over spots of your flesh looking for the ones that are most sensitive.
you flinch when his heated pink muscle flicks over your pulse point, nails only just scraping the surface of your shoulders. all of a sudden, izuku clamps down with his teeth on that same area— pulling a shaky gasp close to a moan from between your plush rapturous lips. “oh? sensitive here, babydoll?” the hero asks you, darkened eyes twitching up to your face. you can only manage a nod, tilting back your head and creating more room for him to work another mark into your skin. his hair, soft and fresh-scented, tickles your neck, heightening your responsiveness to his activity at your throat. “you’re so pretty here, with my marks on your skin. wonder how pretty the rest of you looks,”
“y-you can see it, take it if you’d like,” your head tips back in offer, at his words, giving him more room to cast his claim in bruises across your neck and shoulders. his praise rattles in the base of your ribcage and disrupts your candied heart in its place, sending it into a series of flutters. “i’m yours now,” using a single knee, deku pushes your thighs apart, letting him lead your body into position… trusting izuku, you follow him willingly into the forest, just as you would with anything.
this time he catches you before you fall, with ghostly soft touches and gentle whispers— he pulls you by your thighs to the edge of the metal table until your bodies are close enough that you can lose yourself in the towering trees and lush green. you watch with innocent eyes, while the darkness takes over the woods in deku’s own, embers of lust starting to burn at the outer edges of an evergreen eutopia.
“i want you to be mine, in ways that no one else can have you,” deku tells you seriously, an expression of clement hunger smoothing over the mask of his freckled face. the forest fire burns even brighter, catching on mosses as your hands reach up to twirl with baby locks of the hero's hair. casting his gaze down, a little off to the left, deku takes a deep breath and lets his large hands slide up to the band of your bra—you choke on air tinged with the scent of him, thinking that he’ll remove it— but instead, cautious thumbs slide under the lavender and flower designed lace and rubs where your breast meets your ribs. you realise there, that the green haired hero is asking in his own way, for permission. “i’ve always wanted you but i was scared, scared to break you and make you crumble with the life that i lead,” izuku’s voice lowers an octave, growing heavier and heavier the more he lifts your bra away from your chest as if he’s weighing up the options of leading you off of the gingerbread pathway and to a place of sin.”i just don’t want to hurt you more than i already have,” he finishes, eyes fluttering shut.
cupping deku’s face now, you brush your thumbs over his stardust cheeks bringing him down low to lick the luminous orange flames of his fire— to soothe the burning and the hesitation he feels. “you can’t hurt me anymore, izu, you can take me,” you reassure him, pressing a kiss to his cupid’s bow. “we’ve waited this long, i don’t think i can last much longer without having you closer,”
that’s all he needs, all the permission izuku midoriya needs to pull you into the cracklingfire and burn any traces of you that lie unclaimed. “then let me take care of you,” izuku promises, bending to his knees in front of you, the green haired man’s hands slide warmly up the plains of your back—he traces your spine before reaching the clasp of your bra and unhooking it with ease, the material falling at your front. the emptiness of the back room does nothing to hide the beefy groan deku lets out. it could be the air or the fact that you’d managed to pull the sound from his lips that causes goosebumps to rise on your exposed skin. you allow him to pull the rest of your bra away, his breath soothing the chill against your tits before bulky arms snake around your middle.
he takes one of your hardened nipples between his teeth, rolling it between them carefully as shiny green eyes shoot upwards to follow your reaction. midoriya smiles around your bud at the way your face twists; nose scrunched cutely and eyes fluttering shut as if you’ve never felt such a sensation, before a quiet mewl escapes you.”izu,” you say pleadingly, not quite sure of what you’ve asked for— your untouched body a playground for the love izuku has to offer. “gimme, more…” at your request, his tongue lolls wetly over the swell of your breast as he takes it fully into his mouth and coats your skin in a glaze of his own saliva. he can taste the vanilla on your skin, it drowns him in waves but adds a lustrous fuel to his fire.
wrapping an arm around the back of deku’s head, you draw him into the blistering heat of your frame, holding him as he suckles on your tit and starts to grope at the other— massaging the fleshy mound between his thick and scarred fingers, kneading it to coax more of your song and darling moans. there’s awe dotting the ferns of his eyes, dripping like liquid gold from his eyelashes, and when he bites down on your flesh, the point of his teeth draw shapes into your skin.
you squeak like a little nymph and izuku finds himself becoming addicted, savouring how you twitch just for him. “you taste so good, you sound like an angel,” the hero praises you, pulling away from your bruised chest and remaining connected to you only by a clear string of his own spit, “you must be an angel, there’s no way someone like you falls from heaven just for me,” he tattoos the words into the spot between your breasts with similarly wet kisses from before. “you’re my angel now, kay baby?”
you whimper, again sounding like an angel’s song. “yes ‘zu, yours,”
if izuku had been a spirit of the forest, a demon of sorts then maybe you really were the angel that he needed to calm the rustling leaves— or maybe his flames would consume you and your wings whole, causing you to fall. the scalding heat of his mouth works on your unattended breast—giving it the same loving treatment that makes you writhe against the work table, nearly knocking the frosting you had been working on away. curiously, izuku releases your nipple, one hand beginning to graze your cotton panties from underneath your uniform skirt, your last item of clothing remaining. the one by your chest dips into your cookies ‘n cream frosting, beginning to smear it over your untreated breast. it’s cold and sticky on your skin, contrasting between the temperature that rises between the two of you.
“zu, s’cold,” you mumble, starting to curl in on yourself, gripping the shoulder of his shirt tightly to ground yourself. deku hums in content, latching onto your chest again where he's painted you like a canvas with the icing and the vibrations shoot straight through your body, down to your core—a patch of damp forming at the crotch of your panties from where he’s started to rub at you in sweet circles. “w-wait izu,” you simper, tone of your voice small and precious as the pro hero squeezes your clit, tip of his finger running over the length of your clothed slit. the sensation that builds in the depths of your core, like a pressure waiting to be relieved.
pushing a finger against your entrance from over the material, izuku watches in fascination as the spot of your arousal grows darker and larger, sweet honey seeping from between your folds.”what is it, babylove?” he asks you, as puffs of his hot breath begin stimulating your sex, your hips jump up against your will— body overcome with the fire.”does it not feel good to be touched like this?”
escaping from your hold, the pro hero finally falls to his knees in front of your parted legs— pulling his working digits away from your stained panties in awe, a thick string of clear essence being the only thing that connects him to you now. “i’ve never…” you pant, heat prickling underneath your skin like a thousand tiny stings. a feeling that's foreign and painfully seated just above your abdomen, desperate to be licked and soothed by izuku and his flames. “please, i’ve never..” if he would just explore the woods of your body then maybe you could garner some relief, but only feel taunted when the pro hero swipes more of the frosting against your panties and slots his mouth against your aroused cunt, tongue darting out to suck on your juices through the sticky material.
“c’mon sweet girl, spit it out, you can tell me,” izuku coos into your slick, groaning with debauchery at your taste. his nose bumps at your sensitive clit, sending waves of bright and brand new euphoria through your body.
“i’ve never been touched like this before, izu,” you squeal out at last, letting the syllables rush out of your mouth underneath slurs of pent up saliva— not even bothering for a pause in the middle. the green haired male pulls back from the solace between your thick and doughy thighs, eyes widening with shock as he realises how much of your innocence he’s burned away through forest fires already. a thick smog of ash and lust hangs heavily in the air with the weight of your next words. “i’m a virgin…”
“you’re a...you’ve never…” he dares to ask, rubbing smooth circles into your thighs, your skirt falling back into place over your sex. the fabric does nothing to hide the saccharine scent of your puffy and potentially virgin folds, and midoriya feels himself twitch with cupidity in his pants at the thought of being the very first into your garden. visions of you opening up for him like a blossom against his forest floor makes the blood pumping through deku’s body swelter with an undying need to take you; he wants to be the first to have you break and fall apart against his fingers and cock and maybe his tongue after everything he’s put you through. he almost feels undeserving.
“no,” you turn your head away from your newfound lover abashedly, liquid shame brimming in your eyes. “t-there was only one time in college with shinsou, we only used our hands but he...he was the only one who got to...to cum…”
izuku grunts in disapproval at the thought of your sweet cunt being touched by anyone besides him— even if it had been before he’d even met you. standing once more, the pro hero cups your cheeks with his sex tainted hands and brushes away your tears, thumb slipping passed your strawberry licorice lips and forcing you to taste the mix of your essence, frosting and tears. “no need to be embarrassed babydoll,” he says, dazed and distracted by all that you are.
fuck.
you’re so pretty, so obedient sucking on his digits with hesitant doe eyes. “we can fix that, yeah?”
you nod around his thumb until it's clean and hum with anticipation. “uhuh,” you mumble, blindly trusting izuku—because he’d promised never to hurt you again, because you knew that he would take care of you.
“good girl, now let’s get you out of the rest of these clothes, babylove.” deku pulls his thumb from between your lips, chuckling at the pout that smooths over them and leans down to capture them in a kiss. his scarred hands make quick work of pulling off your skirt and peeling away your panties that stick to your sex. you shiver when cool air hits your bare cunt, crying out for something to keep you warm. izuku knows that you yearn for his fire in the woods to drag you in and take your spirit as prisoner— so he rushes to shrug off his t-shirt before uniting your bodies and wrapping one arm around your shoulders, keeping you to him, the other dipping to toy with the treasure locked between your plush thighs. “shinsou used his fingers on you, right?”
“yes,” you say breathless, drawn to deku in a similar way a moth is to a candle flame, basking in his heat. “but i didn’t get to cum,” you remind him.
only then does the green haired pro send you one of those smiles, the ones where the constellations on his cheeks shone bright... the ones that you had always believed were saved especially for you, making you feel warm inside, because now you knew that they were. “then i’ll have to show you what it’s like to have a real man’s fingers pleasuring you, angel. you’ll have to wait a few dates before you get to feel my tongue on you though, baby,” deku whispers a breath’s width away from your ear, sending shivers down your spine as the calloused tip of two of his fingers circle your soaked entrance. “give me your hand angel, let me teach you,”
you writhe nervously against the metal table, dropping your hand to join izuku’s at the entrance to your awaiting cunt and let him guide your smaller-than-his fingers to your swollen clit. rubbing smooth circles into your back, your tits pressed salaciously against his sweaty pecs, the hero instructs you to draw dainty shapes onto the puffy nub, letting you jolt in his arms and grip his flexing bicep. “hah, zu...that feels nice,” you babble clumsily, brain growing hazy as the first shocks of ecstasy filter through your bloodstream. “zu...s’supposed to feel that good?”
your question makes him wonder how innocent you really are, if it's so much so that you’d never even buried your baby fingers into your own cunt and gotten off before...maybe with the success of your bakery, you just didn’t have the time. his chest swells with pride and his cock with need at the idea of being the one to knock you down a few pegs of purity— another sinner’s smile pulling at midoriya’s bruised lips. “of course it is, little love,” he chuckles, aiding your hand in stimulating your honeyed bud faster, helping your flower to bloom, more of your arousal to gather in your pussy lips. “oooh you like that don’t you? ‘course my little angel does, so naughty. just wait until i stuff my fingers inside that darling lil hole of yours.”
“don’ wanna wait, wanna feel you inside me now,” you drawl with impatience and teary doll eyes, yet again, lifting your hips as you ink star shaped patterns onto your sex. “‘m wet for you izuku, i know that… i can take your fingers,”
the hero spreads your folds with two digits, looking eagerly with darkened chartreuse orbs as your viscous juices pour from your empty hole. “fuuck baby, you talk so dirty for someone who hasn’t been fucked before,” duku grouses erotically— far more turned on than you’d thought. “spread those thighs, that’s it...nice ‘n wide babylove, keep playing with your clit for me...so fucking pretty…” you do as he says, legs nearing the edge of the table as you roll your clit to your heart’s content, lewd sounds echoing throughout the room as deku eases a single digit past your entrance—immediatley curling it to get a feel for your velvet walls.
“ohmygod—fuck ‘zu,” comes your needy whimper, the grip you have on his bicep tightening, nails digging crescent moons into his manuka honey skin.
“yeah? you like that? how do you feel ‘bout ‘zuku giving another?” he says and pushes his lips into a mock pout while concentrating hard on making you see stars, airily asking himself more so than you as he slips another digit into your hot cunt alongside the other—scissoring them in order to stretch you open and prepare you for his cock. “grab hold of my wrist, want you to control how fast or slow i fuck this pretty little pussy with my fingers, kay?”
an answer barely escapes you aside from a weak nod— following deku's gaze to the way your sex sucks him in and covers him in all of your liquid. it’s so dirty, the way the pro hero lets you control his hand,practically riding his fingers and grinding the seat of his palm against your clit, the action dragging you through the winding trees of ecstasy. he curls them against the spongy spot deep within your walls, making your thighs twitch and eyes cross lewdly. every thrust of his fingers earns a gush from your little cunt, weeping at the stimulation.
deku thinks you’re the most precious little thing, a delicate fairy tucked away into his neck—breathing heavily, strings of saliva hooked to the roof of your mouth while you grasp and grip his body for your taking. he mumbles sweet nothings into your hairline things like ‘that too fast, sweetheart?’ or ‘tell me if it’s not enough, babylove,’ his sweet honeysuckle words sending tingles down your spine and fluttering through your sex— deku stroking you into the shape of him.
the weird feeling in your belly from earlier returns, building up in slow stacks and twisting like rope inside of you. izuku holds you to the edge for hours, or that’s what it feels like— pumping scarred digits in and out of you at an impressive speed, telling you it would feel better if he made you wait for what was to come. “so tell me, is it true that he never made you cum like this?” the pro hero’s voice drops an octave, deep and rich like expensive chocolate and he shakes off your hand around his wrist, taking control of the pace at which you’re given pleasure.
“feels weird ‘zuku,” you cry, tummy starting to burn with every push of his fingertips againstyour g-spot, relentlessly scissoring their corresponding digits inside of you every time. “s’too fast, can’t… don’t think i can hold it..!” your legs shake violently, willing to close but izuku pins one down to the table and casts his gaze to where your body meets his hand, watching eagerly for something to happen.
“let go for me now, promise it’ll feel so good,” midoriya sighs and a scream tears in the base of your throat as the rope in your tummy finally snaps and the weird pressure that had been building up finally shoots out of you— more specifically from your sticky and squelching pussy. eyes rolling to the back of your head, clear liquid spirts from your sex in streams, pooling underneath your ass and running down the length of your slit— sliding between your lower cheeks. deku doesn’t stop even though you’re overstimulated and gushing like a river, thumbing fast and random shapes into your raw clit until your stream stops flowing and finishes splattering against your thighs along with izuku’s pelvic bone and hand.
you can’t stop shaking through your release, which pools on the floor and beneath your bum, allowing deku to cradle you into his bare chest and rock you in his arms until you’re grounded. “good girl, did so well,” soft praise is not wasted on your ears as you nuzzle into his addictive, sweet and tooth rotting warmth. “my virgin baby’s a squirter, huh?” slowly but surely, the hero lets you go to take a peek between the globes of your thighs— watching your face for any signs of discomfort when he touches you. his forest hair tickles your inner thighs when he dips his head to your cunt, grunting at the overstimulation when his tongue traces your folds to clean up your orgasm— making you grip his hair harshly.
and when izuku stands up and gives your cunt a second to calm down— his lips find yours in an overheated kiss that sets your body alight for him once again. under the mint sherbet flavour on his tongue, you find yourself. like candy and rock salt laced with izuku’s taste, unlike anything that's ever graced your tastebuds before.
the kiss lasts very little before the hero pulls away, fingers twisting with the knot on the grey sweatpants that he wears. a dark spot grows on his front from his leaking tip, cock hard against his inner thigh. you frown, wondering how long deku had been like that as he tended to you. how was he able to hold back? you surely would have lost your mind in his position— while your heart feels bad for leaving him alone and unattended, what’s left of your working conscious craves to see what hides behind izuku’s waistband and your mouth waters at the very thought. before your mind can catch up with your hands, you reach for his v-cut hips and attempt to run your fingers over his prominent dick print, yanking at the grey fabric to reveal what you’ve been waiting for.
“fuck, love,” izuku hisses, letting you roll down his sweats and boxers in one go, but snatching up your hands before you can jerk him off. “wait, just wait baby…”
he places your hands on his chest, the deep green of his eyes form a stern warning of ‘no’, despite the heavy heat waves of desire that radiate off of his well-built body. drool pools on the palette of your tongue as you watch his cock slap against chocolate and carved abs, precum smearing between them and his tip an angry shade of ruby red from arousal. “but izu..wanna help you like you helped me,” your lips push into a tempting pout, accentuating the devoir in your tone.
but deku continues to shake his head, his heart beating rapidly deep within the twisting timber land of his ribcage— protected by oakwood and tree branches that only you can figure out a way through. “another time babylove, when i’ve gotten a chance to take you on a real date,” he sighs, an immodest sense of agony drawn across his features and sewn into freckles. your heart soars and beats hard in your pussy, succulent hole clenching and causing nectar to drip from your forbidden flower. izuku fists his cock with one hand as he gently pushes your body back against the cool metal table, your back arching away from the frigid feeling giving him an erotic view of the soft mountains of your chest bouncing ever so slightly.
once you lay flat on your back, the hero presses his body over yours— trapping you between the cold surface and the blazing temperature of his body as if he were the sun… accompanied by his abs rippling against your tummy and hardened shaft sliding between your scalding, drenched folds. deku’s sticky tip skims dangerously over your bud, rewarding the silent back room with a pair of overwhelmed and eager moans. both of your bodies tremble, tortured from holding back. your hand searches for deku’s in the tangled heap of firewood limbs, fingers link during the sloppy afair of your grinding sweaty bodies— and you think you might cum again, just from the quiet whimpers your lover breathes into your ear and the sensation of him pushing his hard on against your quivering sex.
“want me to put it in now, baby?” izuku coos, his words are like delicate icing against your skin but his eyes speak of carnivorous obsession when he pulls back to look at you... as if he’s going to bathe you in every sense of him and drown you through your mind, body and soul. the keen smile he gives to you when you nod a little, warms your heart, to know that he loves you this much. “s’gonna hurt a little bit, so let me know at any time if you want me to stop, you got that?” giving deku’s hand a squeeze in acknowledgement, your breathing deepens as he lines his cock up with your entrance, tapping his tip against your virgin hole before pushing against it, slipping into you with a slight resistance.
you don’t want to resist anymore, you’ve spent so long running through the woods and away from its demon that carried your feelings for izuku that you’re so tired of trying to push him out. tears, salty, begin to well in your eyes at the pain of deku’s cock breaching your walls for the first time— the weight of him burns almost uncomfortably, he’s so much bigger than you anticipated and you dig your nails into his skin, enough to draw blood, in order to cope as you whimper wetly. “izuku!”
“shhh babylove, i know…’m so sorry. i know,” deku tries to comfort you, hating the way you cry for reasons other than feeling good. your pretty eyes are screwed shut, locking away the gems he treasures so much. he wants to stop, he should stop— he promised to never hurt you in any way shape or form ever again, but here you are clamping down on him with this tiny and wet virgin cunt...and he feels so fucking good.
midoriya should feel guilty for liking the way your body wriggles under his in slight pain, the way you drip and feel so fucking tight around him even though he’d given you his fingers.. you’re barely even half way down him, trembling legs loose around deku’s waist while he holds his hips back from cantering all the way into you. “it’ll all feel so good in a moment, promise you sweet girl,” deku slurs, already pussy drunk as he manages to sheath another inch into you. suddenly, he perks up with an idea and his fingers that remain free lean away from your bodies and dip into your frosting—he smears it against your neck and valley between your breasts before reaching between your impossibly close bodies and rubbing some into your clit.
“izu...wh-what are you doing?” comes your small voice, a sweet melody to the sluice noises your sex makes with every trace of izuku’s fingers against your frosting covered bud. already you feel looser, velvet walls beginning to welcome his dick instead of reject it, bliss building up in your veins instead of that uncomfortable sting.
midoriya continues to play with you there, easing the burn as he puts out hurtful flames, choking on his groans with every flutter that ripples through your increasingly wet hole. “trust me, s’gonna help, doesn’t that feel better already?” with every circle drawn against you, your juices mixing with frosting, comes another inch of deku’s cock pushing against unused and ribbed walls until he’s right at the hilt, finally buried all the way inside of you. like before, izuku leaves you seated right on the edge of another orgasm, both of you stilling to revel in the way your bodies finally connect and make one whole. izuku waits for you, for the throbbing pain to fade away as your pussy adjusts to his size, pressing butterfly kisses across your face while you stop your run from the forest just to feel. “i’m going to move now, okay angel? it might hurt again,”
“c-can you make me cum, would that help?” you whisper into the chill air, hips shifting beneath deku’s as he starts to draw his own back. a non-committal ‘yes’ is uttered against your neck as he prepares to take you, tongue beginning to roll over your skin to distract you and taste the frosting that covers old love bites. you don’t know what part of your question he’s agreeing to, but you don’t care— for deku brings back the stimulation of your clit right at the same time as his cock pulls away from your selfish walls and stretched out hole. “ohmygod!” you squeal in surprise, a small orgasm washing over your body like waves on a shore, you spill honey and molasses against your gooey sexes, providing deku with the lube he needs to make love to you properly.
“god, you’re so pretty when you’re cumming for me, babydoll…” izuki tells you with a dizzy and seraphic gripe, driving his hips forward to fill you up again. his face ducks into the other spots where he’s laid frosting over your skin, its sweet vanilla flavour tangling with the salt from the light layer of sweat that coats you too. deku makes quick work of licking it up in order to distract himself, because if he sees the way your angelic face twists with newfound arousal and thrill, he’ll lose his mind and fuck you too hard to cope. that or he’ll burst and cum before he’s even had a chance to take you to high heavens. “‘m gonna fuck you now, promise to make you feel good.”
looping your arms around the back of his neck and losing yourself in the depths of his soft dartmouth hair, your words come out as susurrant in the darkness of the back room— catching in your throat and trembling towards their end as deku sets a slow and intimate pace to his thrusts. “you could never make me feel anything other, izuku...please give me your all,” you feel his cock pulse, sheathed inside your gummy walls mid-thrust, blood rushing through your body with every passionate rock of izuku’s body into yours. he overwhelms you, the demon in the forest taking your hand and pulling you through the canopy into divine devoir, telling you with the rustling leaves and the groans of your trees, of your izuku...to accept the love and lust he has for you.
tanned skin, cut deep with scars, feels slippery, slick against yours as izuku’s cock takes the dive into your virgin heat— the heavy vein on the underside of his shaft mapping out new pleasure points inside of you and committing them to memory for the next time you make love. the next time won’t be the last, nor will any time after that, because after years of chasing, deku doesn’t plan to let you go. the words hang like mist in the air he breathes over his lips, but his body tells them better, the way he leaks and lines your inner cunt with his aroused signature is enough to say what he can’t.
so instead of speaking, he grunts and groans into your neck, between your bouncing breasts and shoulder blades as he draws on them with dollops of frosting and bites or nips, or sucks it away until blossoms of purple and darker shades form against your sweaty skin. the air around you grows humid, the scent of vanilla and cookies and sinful sex beginning to waft through it. izuku slips in and out of your puckered hole with newfound ease, the clear and gooey strings of your last orgasm clinging to his cock and your puffy pussy lips help to guide him, to follow the channel of your cunt and claim it as his own. “you’re so wet, you’re so good, takin’ a big cock like mine and all on your first try,” deku simpers between the bruising paintings he leaves against you, barely audible against the slow build of skin slapping against skin and your sexes squelching in combination. “can’t believe i’m the first to claim you, gonna be for your first for everythin’,”
although your pupils are dilated and darkened from your epic high on lust, your gaze falls onto izuku’s face and how it twists with impassioned heat, his brows furrowed with concentration while he churns up your insides and shapes your pussy into the form of his weighty girth— making it so that no one can pleasure you the way that he does and that when you look at his face, you only see constellations in the night sky of his forest, ones that tell you… you’re getting high of off sex and balls that slap against the curve of your ass. you’re high off of dopamine flooding your brain with every jam of izuku’s blunt and angry red tip against your g-spot. you’re high off of him and the love you’ve been harbouring for him all this time.
“want you to be my one ‘n only,” you tell izuku earnestly and through hiccuped mewls— your hips lifting to suck more of deku into your cunt now that you can, and the only burn that you feel is the one from his hot body, stuck to yours along with the stacks of delectation in your lower belly. all caused by izuku midoriya himself. you’re grateful that shinsou wasn’t the one to have taken this from you, that you’d steered clear of lonely one night stands and random passionate flings. because all that waiting, all that longing meant that you could share this loss with deku, to start a new path into the untouched clearing with deku.
there’s no one else you could imagine holding you like this, pumping their cock into you so hard that your juices stream from your pussy and decorate his balls, especially when his tip kisses your cervix. there’s no one else you could want, except for him. “n-no one else can have me like this,” you say, earning a stuttered breath from deku.
you feel his cock twitch from your words, curving up to press against the soft spongy spot that has your creamy cunt choking him out. “don’t...d-don’t say stuff like that while i'm inside you baby...makes it so much harder,” izuku whines with tears docking in his eyelashes. he could cry from how good your hole feels clamping down on him. the hard ruts of his hips into yours, strokes of his dick against your molten sugar, gummy walls start to slow into rough grinds— his hips moving in smooth circular motions and pelvis rubbing harshly against your clit. “you make me wanna lose control,” deku can only soothe himself by slathering another patch of frosting against your collarbones, fangs sinking into the flesh and pink muscle scooping up what he’s laid down.
“you can with me, you can do anything you want with me...jus’ wanna feel you izu,” you lament zealously, pushing against izuki’s chest until he’s leaning up right and you’re able to sit up and rest back against your palms on the metal table creaking beneath you. at this change in position, you’re both able to see the exact point at which your bodies meet and witness the sheen of creamy white that’s started to gather at the base of izuku’s cock every time it pumps in and pulls out of your dripping, greedy mound. the pro hero can’t seem to tear his eyes away from the sight, increasing the pace of his languid rolling hips just to see the way your pussy responds before spitting onto his cock and creating more dirty deluging sounds. the slick paints his strong thighs and stains yours as izuku grabs ahold of them and pins them down to the table to keep you spread.
reaching for the ruined bowl of cookies ‘n cream icing, you dip two fingers into it and move your upper body forward until you’re close enough to drag them over midoriya’s neck and your lips are within inches of latching onto his skin. “f-fuck, sweetheart, what are you doing?” deku mutters, spit pooling on his tongue, ready to drip it onto your sexes as they slap together— the sound echoing through the empty backroom.
“wanna try to make you feel the same way i do, wanna mark you too,” you say, voice barely audible over the way he ploughs into you with new vigor, bullying and bombarding your insides, turning them to nothing but mush and sending shockwaves of delight crackling through your veins. without missing another beat, you latch onto deku’s neck and suck, attempting to paint midnight blue into his skin and lay your own claim.
teeth and tongue abuse the spot on his neck, sweat dotting the pro hero’s brow and adding to the humid bubble surrounding your bodies dancing passionately in the dead of the night. “atta girl, you’re so good to me...shit,” izuku curses into your hairline, large hands going from gripping your waist to dancing up your back so that his fingers are able to grip at the roots of your hair and force you closer to his neck to give him a hickey. the drive of his cock into your sopping pathetic pussy never lets up, making a home for itself in your raw and used sex.
when you pull back to admire the flowering roses of blue you’ve created against deku’s timbre skin, he groans basily from deep within his throat— the sound vibrating through the cavity of his chest and shooting straight down to your creaming core. “you’re gonna kill me with this cunt, sweet girl. gonna ruin me so ‘m only ever thinking of you...is that what you want?” deku practically sobs, enchanting you and tilting your head to face his so he can place a lingering and sugar coated kiss against your wet lips.
his emerald eyes are crystalline with love and lust for you, and you alone, making your tummy warm and your candy cane heart turn to liquid sugar. you can taste the saltiness of tears on your tongue as your mouths slot together perfectly but you can no longer tell whose pellucid teardrops are whose and where they’re coming from as your bodies stay tangled, moving against one another in sticky and sensual movements. “‘s all i’ve ever wanted, for you t’be mine and for me t’be yours,” you say broken down by sheer yearning for the man you’re making love to— accepting harder assails of deku’s heavy girth inside of you.
“then i’m yours, fuck everything else, my heart is yours, angel.” izuku affirms, panting avidly into your mouth as his hands drop to the globes of your ass to pull you back and forth on his dick. after one last dollop of frosting and another delphinium flower sucked into your lover’s shoulder you lean back on your elbows, and match his thrusts with jumps of your hips into his, watching as streams of your arousals seep to the table beneath your bodies. you begin to head down a winding path in the smokey woods, the wildfire from before having surrounded you until your senses are overwhelmed with one another and you’re both climbing to your peaks. “can feel you ‘bout to cum, you’re chokin’ my cock...gettin’ so fucking tight around me,”
“take me to heaven, izuku,” you plead him with glass stained eyes, taking in his rosy star cheeks and his handsome face— a matched expression of craving scrawled across it. “wanna cum on your cock for the first time,” you clamp down hard on deku, pulling small ropes of precum from his tip while you chase him into the blinding white flames— coaxing him to take all of your body as you offer it up to him. you want him to cum, to be the only cause of his pleasure from here on out. “wanna feel everythin’ with you...”
pushing you to lay back, deku cages your body against the table, letting it rock from the sheer force of his hips ploughing into yours as his angry cockhead bares down hard against your cervix. his golden arms flex as they hook beneath your thighs, to drag you up to meet his unforgiving pace and izuku presses his forehead to yours, emerald stone eyes shining with tears beneath artificial white light before he speaks “i can’t— fuck, baby… i can’t hold back...need to cum soon, i can’t fucking hold back when i’m with you,” he stumbles over everything that he says, lips slipping over yours in slow and lazy motions unlike how he pounds into you. midoriya cups your head with one hand, pulling you flush against him and the other descends the planes of your flesh to toy with your clit once more. “i love you so much, you know that right? fuckin’ love you…”
“you love me?” you ask him in a moan, though you already know the answer. you also know that hearing him say it may push you over the edge for the final time. “please say you love me— f-fuck…say you love me, zu,”
brushing a thumb over your left cheek with the hand that cups your head, izuku offers you one of his warm smiles— reminding you of all the reasons you fell for him, reminding you of the sanctuary of your bakery and all the nights in it that you’ve shared. “i love you angel,” he whispers, slipping his lips against yours for one final kiss before the earth beneath you shatters and the gates of heaven open just for you; his tongue grazes yours in the heat of your mouth as his dick brushes up against your g-spot, launching you into your high. you cum hard, the life in your lungs swept away from you as every single one of your neurons fire at once. you moan loud, the sound swallowed by midoriya while his stuttering thrusts guide you through your orgasm— release gushing out of your hole and staining his tummy and pelvis.
you’re still coming around when izuku falls into his own high, his pretty green eyes locked away as they screw shut— whimpers coating his lips like glaze as your spasming cunt leads the way through his orgasm. “cum for me zu, love you s’much...keep comin’ for me,” you coo to him sleepily, love flooding your veins as he humps you desperately and pulls out at the last minute to paint your soft tummy with his potent white seed; letting it slick the spot where your abdomens meet while his cock twitches and softens between you.
silence lays thick in the air aside from your laboured breathing and the soft smooches the pair of you give to one another. izuku chuckles breathily into your neck, using his arms to pull away and hover above you. “it’s about time, huh?’ he says, kissing your nose with a lovestruck grin.
“mhm,” you nod, reaching up to brush your thumbs over his freckles, memorising every one of his details to convince yourself that everything is real and that pro hero izuku midoriya really does love you, the clumsy little baker girl. “it only took us two years, a couple thousand of my bakes and a bowl of frosting.”
“but i wouldn’t have had it any other way,” izuku tells you fondly, finally pulling off of you and helping you to sit up. he’s about to scoop you into his arms and take you up to your apartment above the bakery so that the pair of you can shower and rest; when his phone goes off from somewhere in his discarded sweatpants. locating it and bringing it over to you along with his shirt, he lets you slip on the material and lean over his shoulder to read the text alert— which makes his face flush with red and causes you to burst out laughing.
— INCOMING TEXT FROM HITOSHI SHINSOU:
are you guys done yet? midoriya i know i sent you over to fix my best friend but fucking her a floor below me isn’t exactly what i meant. whatever, just make sure you fuckin’ sanitise my kitchen before opening hours tomorrow. losers.
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whipped-cream-writings · 2 months ago
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—𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬 
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MIDORIYA’S kisses are curious. He’s infatuated with the way one of you completes the other - it’s a feeling he never wants to forget. So he’ll follow your lips until yours meet his, smiling against your skin all the while. Marred hands will pull you close, resting on your waist and drawing imaginary circles on your hips. When he finally breaks away, his cheeks warm with the colors of roses, his words come out breathless - “again?”
BAKUGO’S kisses are meaningful. No matter how frustrated he may seem, he still meets you with just as much vigor - sometimes even more. His eyebrows will be furrowed, yet he’s slow. Tender, even. A calloused hand tilts your chin up and keeps your eyes on him, while his other hand stays on his side. He’ll act like it wasn’t a big deal when it’s over - of course he does - but his face glows in shades of pink and red. Is that just a trick of the light, or is he smiling?
TODOROKI’S kisses are soft. Part of him is worried - after all, he had no experience before this, before you. His touch is gentle, no more than a whisper across your skin. Cold fingers lace with yours, tugging you closer, with almost no space between the two of you. The kiss lingers on your lips when he looks at you with a smile, nothing but fondness in his eyes. Your hand remains in his, and Todoroki only hopes that you ignore that rosy glow on the tips of his ears.
KIRISHIMA’S kisses are tender. He’s gentle with you in every way possible - from the way his hands encompass yours to the way his thumb strokes your cheek. He radiates heat and joy, and all of your worries melt away between his fingertips. The grin he gives you is nothing but sincere, and as you finally pull away and say goodbye, his eyes follow. They glow with the dimming sunlight and with the emotions swimming in his gaze - all for you.
KAMINARI’S kisses are playful. It’s all bright smiles and loud laughs until you’re inches away from him. He leans against you, hands on your cheeks bringing you closer to him. Hands start to wander, tracing your body as he slowly moves downward. You shove him away, and only an apologetic laugh slips past his lips. And, yet, there’s something in his eyes - something much, much stronger than want.
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candy-hime · a month ago
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the dare; bakugou katsuki x reader
mina's dare is simple: steal a pair of boxers from your least-favorite senpai's bedroom. what could go wrong?
tw: smut, sparring, senpai tames his bratty kouhai😔😔✌️✌️
“I dare you to steal a pair of Bakuguo’s boxers.”
Your jaw drops in disbelief as your friends squeal with laughter, shaking you wildly and laughing, “Oh, you’re in for it.”
“Mina!” you protest. “That’s so mean! You said tonight was going to be a wholesome girls’ night.”
“That was before you told me to send a panty shot to Eiji.”
“You two are dating!”
“I feel like this counts as hazing,” Kasumi squeaks. “Bakugou hates Y/N. Like, really, really hates her.”
“Yeah, he does kinda have it out for her,” Ochako muses.
You cross your arms, scowling petulantly. Really, you wouldn’t have a problem with Bakugou- if he wasn’t such an insufferable ass.
The entire country had been enthralled with Bakugou Katsuki since he was in high school. The media portrayed him as a brazen anti-hero, online forums discussed his ingenious quirk strategies, and- in more recent years- every gossip magazine and Buzzfeed listicle had stuck him on top of their “Most Fuckable Heroes” list. Naturally, he’d coasted through U.A. and landed straight in Japan’s top hero university.
Bakugou knew he was the best. And yeah, he loved his friends and wanted to protect society and all that- but shit, the ego boost he got from his peers fawning over him was intoxicating.
Dynamight was the top of the top, a prodigy who’d managed to overtake most professional heroes. Damn right he deserved respect.
And then you entered Plus Ultra University the year after him, all cocky grins and flashy attacks and snide remarks. You’d practically laughed in Bakugou’s face when he tried to teach your class a battle maneuver.
Despite how many times he blasted you across the room, kicked you to the floor, and hissed insults that made your classmates gasp, you always had that unwavering, infuriating overconfidence. It hit a little too close to home.
Three years later, your mutual hatred still ran deep. Bakugou was graduating in six months, off to work at Endeavor’s agency with a six-figure salary. You were counting down the days until you’d never have to sit through a class with him again.
But you’d have to survive Mina’s dare to make it to graduation.
It takes a few kicks for Bakugou’s window to give. When you’ve finally managed to kick it open, you nimbly slip through, landing on all fours on his living room floor. It’s pitch-black and eerily silent; he must be out clubbing with his friends, sticking his tongue down some hapless girl’s throat. A shudder of disgust runs through you at the thought.
“This is so easy,” you scoff, sauntering into Bakugou’s bedroom. It’s a little tricky navigating his furniture in the darkness, but you’re pretty sure the closet’s next to the dresser-
A rock-hard arm snakes around your neck and jerks you backwards.
Years of strength training and quirk practice instinctively kick in; you don’t even hesitate when you jam your elbow into your captor’s solar plexus. He lets out a soft grunt of pain- you take the opportunity to throw a jab at their head. They dodge your attack, bringing their leg to twist behind your ankle and pulling your leg off the ground.
You barely manage to recover your balance as you fall, lithely somersaulting away as an explosion blasts into the air inches away from your face. The orange-gold flames momentarily illuminate the room, throwing light on a familiar figure sneering down at you.
Shit.
“What’s the matter, princess? Weren’t expecting company?”
That aggravatingly familiar voice- that obnoxious nickname- causes your lip to curl in annoyance.
“Aw, sitting alone in the dark on a Saturday night?” you respond, your voice dripping with syrupy condescension. “That’s a low even for you, Kats.”
A furious growl rips from his throat as he flings another wall of flames in your direction. If your quirk didn’t give you superhuman mobility, you’d be toast. Thank god his room is fireproofed.
“And breaking into my house is better? Fuckin’ bitch- I’m gonna torch that smirk off your face. Stompin’ around loud enough to wake me up-,”
But then you plant a mean left hook on him, causing him to let out a grunt of pain mid-sentence. You use his momentary hesitation to throw a cross-jab combination-
And that’s where you fuck up.
The darkness throws off your aim- Bakugou is further to the side than you realized, causing you to slightly stumble forward. That’s all he needs; in the next moment, your arms are violently grabbed and twisted behind your back, body slammed onto the bed and knee shoved between your legs.
The room suddenly floods with soft yellow light as Bakugou finally turns on the lamp sitting next to his desk.
“Who’s laughin’ now?” he drawls, his heavy form looming above you. He’s dressed in a black muscle tee and boxers, putting his well-built arms on display. You struggle to escape from his grasp, but that just causes you to squirm atop his knee.
Bakugou’s smirk widens.
“Okay, congrats,” you snap. “You win. Now let me go, psycho- ah!”
Bakugou has shoved his leg even harder against your pelvis, his hands gripping your wrists so tightly they feel like they’re going to snap.
“It’s pathetic how weak you are. How long did you last- five minutes? Must be a record.”
Tears spring to your eyes as he squeezes your hands even harder. “Ow, Bakugou!”
“Bakugou? What happened to Kats?” He lowers his face to yours- he’s so close you can see the flecks of amber in his vermillion eyes, feel his warm, minty breath on your cheek.
“Look- I’m just here because of a stupid dare,” you tell him, trying and failing to keep your voice from trembling. “I’m sorry, okay? Just let me go.”
Bakugou lets out a harsh bark of laughter. “Oh, I don’t think so, princess.”
You blink up at him with wide eyes.
“Y’know, I should’ve put you in your place years ago,” he continues. “Walkin’ around in your short little skirts, actin’ like you’re the queen of the world when you haven’t won a single fight against me.”
“I said sorry-,”
“Sorry isn’t gonna cut it. I’m tired of your fuckin’ antics.”
And despite yourself- despite how much you loathe Bakugou- his words cause shivers to run down your spine. It’s impossible to ignore how attractive he is at this proximity, the sheer power that ripples through his muscles. He could break you if he wanted. Snap you in half with no effort at all.
Tense silence hangs between the two of you. The hot, needy ache in your lower stomach intensifies with every passing second.
And then Bakugou’s eyes slowly trail over your flimsy cami, pausing at your breasts. He shifts his grip so that only one of his hands circles your wrists.
“Huh,” he muses, thumb coming down to slowly circle a pebbled nipple. “Knew you were a fuckin’ bitch, but didn’t know you were a whore too.”
Your face grows hot with mortification. “I- it’s ‘cuz I’m cold, not- hng!”
He harshly tweaks a nipple, causing your pelvis to jerk up in response. A cruel laugh tears from Bakugou’s throat.
“So if I reach down here-,” His fingers shove past your running shorts, sliding over your panties, “-you won’t be wet?”
Ragged gasps leave your lips as Bakugou lazily moves his hand against your slit. His knuckles push against your panties just the slightest, firm enough so you feel him, but too light to be enough. You let out a needy mewl as you rut against his calloused palm, trying to heighten the friction-
But Bakugou abruptly pulls his hand away, laughing viciously.
“Bakugou,” you whine. “Come on.”
“Oh, no, no, sweetheart,” he cooes. “You break into my apartment, and you think I’m gonna get you off?”
“Like you haven’t wanted me for the last three years. You’re not very subtle when you’re staring at my ass.”
Bakugou growls, baring his teeth, but you don’t miss the flush that creeps up his neck. Suddenly, he lets go of your wrists.
“Okay, princess,” he utters. “You’re free to leave.”
You stiffen. Frustration rises up in the pit of your stomach as you glare up at him. The seconds tick by; Bakugou’s mirth grows as you stay frozen on the bed.
“That’s what you asked for, right? Go.”
“You’re such an asshole,” you hiss.
“Why? You don’t want me at all, right? So just- mmph!”
You’ve launched yourself into his lap, smashing your lips on his in furious desperation. He immediately clasps his large hands around your waist and tugs you closer, reciprocating with equal force.
Your kiss is passionate, intense, all angry tongue and teeth and stubborn refusal to yield. Bakugou’s hands rip apart your cami like it’s butter, greedily massaging your breasts like he can’t get enough.
“Oh, fuck,” you gasp, grinding against his rock-hard bulge.
“What did I say?” Bakugou says mockingly, pushing you off him. “You’re not getting off before me.”
And for a moment- when you peer up at him with a wounded gaze, your lips bruised and wet- he almost relents. Almost.
But a twisted sense of victory washes out every other emotion inside him. It’s so satisfying seeing you like this. He’s tried everything the last few years to break you down- shouting at you and overpowering you and blasting you to the wall- but nothing has reduced you to this whimpering, needy mess.
“Aw. Look at you.” The condescension oozes off his voice. You’re clumsily pulling at his boxers, fingers tugging the band down to reveal his thick, erect cock. It’s enthralling, almost; the prominent vein that snakes down his length; the salty precum trickling from his swollen red head; the strangled groan that leaves Bakugou’s mouth as you gently lay kitten licks around his shaft.
“Can you handle it, angel?” he murmurs, staring at you beneath hooded eyes.
“Of course. I’ve had... b-bigger.”
“Really?” Bakugou cocks a lazy eyebrow. “Don’t have to hold back, then, hm?”
Your lips gently wrap around his tip, tongue tentatively lolling around his length. There’s something about his musky scent that intensifies your arousal; you’re gripped by a wanting need for him, a desire to feel him entirely filling your mouth, stuffing himself down your throat until the only sensation in your mind is the heavy girth of his cock. It’s exhilarating as you slide down his length, drool dripping over his skin as you take him in his entirety.
“Oh, sh-shit,” Bakugou swears roughly, fingers threading through your hair. “Yeah, fuckin’ pathetic- are you so cockhungry you’ll suck off the guy you hate the most? Just need t’be a cumdump for anyone?”
Shit, you look so precious like this, gazing up at him with teary lashes and pitiful eyes. You’re hollowing out your cheeks as you bob up and down his length, soft hands pumping around the parts of him you can’t take in. You can’t get enough- sticky strings of precum and spit hang from his cock to your chin as you move down to his heavy balls. Your hand works at his length as your lips wrap around them, sucking and teasing at his velvety skin.
And that’s when Bakugou’s resolve snaps. He thrusts into your mouth, causing you to gag on his length in surprise.
“Come on, take it, take it,” he chants. “Thought you’d had bigger, thought this was nothin’.”
Your nails scrabble against his thighs, finding purchase as you accommodate to his pace. The sloppy sounds of your saliva and tears and precum lewdly squelch through the air as he uses your mouth, thick head pounding into the back of your throat. The sensation of you choking on his length makes his heart race wildly- this was the stuff of his dreams, the late-night fantasies he’d fucked his hand to hundreds of times.
You finally manage to stretch out your jaw to accommodate Bakugou’s size, relax your throat until you’re able to handle him fucking your mouth. The way you’re swallowing around his dick coaxes coarse groans from his lips. His head thuds against the wall, mouth agape as he rasps, “Close- keep goin’, take this fuckin’ cock-,”
You love the way he unravels when he releases. Perfect, untouchable Bakugou Katsuki, falling apart in front of you. It feels like you’re finally pulling him down to your level, an unreachable star in the sky that’s finally fallen to Earth.
A cry leaves his lips as he spurts thick ropes of cum down your throat and paints your pretty pink mouth in white. You swallow down on his cock while keeping your eyes locked on his.
“Christ,” he says hoarsely, pulling out of you. “Finally put that bratty little mouth to use.”
You don’t respond, slumping down on his sheets. Your chest rises and falls shakily.
Unexpectedly, a hand comes down to stroke your hair.
“You took that like a fuckin’ champ,” Bakugou murmurs, rubbing gentle circles between your locks.
You look up at him hopefully. “Y-Yeah?”
“‘Course.” He brushes the hair out of your face. His features are arranged in a shockingly tender expression. “You’re always so damn pretty.”
And it’s the way your face lights up at his praise- the way you’re so desperately yearning for his approval- that thrills Bakugou the most. You’ve never cared about his opinion. Always scoffed at his advice.
But here you are, hanging off his every word.
“C’mere,” he says gruffly, and captures your mouth in a kiss. It’s sweeter than the first time, deep and languid with an intensity that leaves your head spinning. When you smile against his lips, he chuckles quietly.
“Alright, princess.” Bakugou lays you down on his plush pillow. “It’s your turn.”
“You’re the best, Kats.”
Bakugou glowers up at you, his head between your legs. He’s gotten your running shorts and underwear halfway down your thighs, leaving your bare cunt exposed. “Don’t push it.”
Anticipation grows in your chest as Bakugou lazily plays with the slick gathered at your entrance. “So wet from suckin’ me off.” You moan as he blows a cool stream of air on your slit.
“D’ya like it when I’m rough with you?” he continues, fingers teasing around your clit. “Do you get off on being my cockslut?”
“Hurry up- ow!”
Bakugou has slapped your pussy, causing pain to radiate through your lower body.
“Talk to me like that one more time, and I’m throwing you out,” he utters. “Do I make myself clear?”
He’s so hot and cold, but somehow, this unpredictability heightens the thrill. When you don’t respond immediately, he smacks you again. A cry of pain tears from you.
“I said, do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Bakugou.”
But he hits you again even harder. You whine in protest.
“Call me Katsuki,” he says brusquely.
“What was that for?! I didn’t know-,”
This time, when his hand comes down, you finally learn your lesson.
“Y-Yes, Katsuki,” you whimper, your lips downturned in a pout.
“Aww. Is my little slut sad? Wonder why she got wetter after I punished her, hm?”
You mewl blissfully as he finally delves into your folds, slurping and swallowing like he can’t get enough of your taste. Bakugou’s nose rubs against your clit as he coaxes his tongue into your hole, slowly pushing faster until he’s relentlessly fucking into you.
Everything in your mind’s going foggy, his fingers playing with your clit as skillfully pounds into your gummy walls. You’re blubbering incoherently, strangled moans of feels s’good and Katsuki please the only intelligible phrases streaming from your mouth.
Your orgasm comes too fast, releasing the tension that’s been building in your stomach since Bakugou first overpowered you. But he doesn’t relent; he simply replaces his tongue with his fingers.
“Ah, Katsuki- t-too much-,”
“What’s the matter?” Bakugou sneers, his thick fingers scissoring and curling into you. “Thought you could handle it.” He angles his fingers upwards, switching the spots he’s hitting at a pace you can’t keep up with-
And then he crooks his fingers just right and you let out a strangled moan, your back arching up off the bed.
“Looks like I found something my fuckin’ girl likes, huh?”
“Kats- please, I- I can’t-,”
But then he moves down to lap at your puffy clit and your words are lost in a wanton shriek.
“Yeah? Were you saying something?”
The pain of overstimulation entwines with the heady buildup of your second orgasm- you can’t think at all, can’t keep any thought in your head except Katsuki, Katsuki, Katsuki-
Bakugou looks up at you, his lips dripping in your slick.
“Cum for me,” he hisses.
And so you do, shudders wracking you as your orgasm tears through your body. You’re nearly sobbing- whether from pain or pleasure, you don’t know- and when Bakugou draws you into his chest, you’re still shaking.
“W-Want you inside me, Katsuki,” you whimper after you catch your breath.
He laughs harshly. “Wasn’t enough for you? Christ, how needy can you get?”
But he complies, his hand firm on your hips as he slams you down on the bed. He yanks your legs over his broad shoulders; you gasp as he slaps your dripping cunt with his erect cock.
“Who does this sloppy little pussy belong to?” he taunts.
There’s no challenge in your voice when you breathe, “You, Katsuki.”
“Dumbed out and desperate, huh?” Bakugou digs his fingers in your windpipe. “Next time you get mouthy with me during training, I’ll remind you how stupid this dick can make you.”
Anticipation skitters through your chest as he lines himself up against your entrance. Before he enters you, though, Bakugou pauses.
“You sure about this?” he asks, the spite gone from his tone.
You nod vigorously. “Wanted this for forever- please, Katsuki, just fuck me-,”
He pushes into you in one swift movement, bottoming out without giving you a moment to adjust. A high-pitched keen tears from your throat; fuck, your body is throbbing around him, stretched out in the most satisfying way possible. You swear you can feel him in your stomach.
“Shit,” Bakugou swears quietly, his jaw clenched. Everything about this moment- from your pussy fluttering around him, to the drool dripping down your cheek, to the wanton look in your gaze- it’s all absolutely perfect.
He slowly draws out of your cunt, his length scraping against your warm velvet walls. A whimper falls from your lips as he buries himself to the hilt inside you again.
“You good?” Bakugou murmurs. His hand snakes down to circle your clit, causing the tension to slowly leak from your muscles. Pleasure finally begins to overtake the pain; you whisper, “Yeah, ‘m ready, Katsuki.”
And then he starts picking up his pace, thrusting into you slowly and then moving faster when he hears your mewls grow louder. “Y’like that?” he growls. “Look at the way you’re rutting against me- fuckin’ hell, princess.”
“Don’t stop, please,” you beg, practically going cross-eyed at the way he’s pounding into you. Your ankles lock around his neck; he’s hitting you so deep, your position letting him hit angles your fingers could never reach. “Feels so g-good, I can’t...,”
Bakugou sneers. “Your greedy little pussy’s suckin’ me in- god, gonna fuck your stupid little brains out, want you to remember this.”
You’re fervently chanting his name, pupils blown wide open as he rams into you. His hands are everywhere; kneading at your sensitive breasts, pressing against your stomach, rubbing your clit through your slick. A familiar crescendo is building up in your core again- you’re embarrassed at how little it takes for Bakugou to pull an orgasm out of you. He feels you tightening around him and smirks.
“Gonna cum for me?” he pants, sweat dripping down his face. “Go on, then. Fall apart on my cock, slut.”
And in the next few moments the coil of tension snaps; a strangled whine leaves your lips as you convulse uncontrollably around his length, black spots filling your vision as you crest through your release. The sensation of your walls milking him causes Bakugou to tumble over the edge as well. He hastily pulls out, his hand squelching over his shaft as he furiously pumps toward his release.
“Stick that fuckin’ tongue out for me, princess, lemme make a mess of your face- shit!”
Thick white cum gushes from his dick. You obediently catch his semen all over your mouth, letting it drip from your cheeks down to your neck.
There’s a lazy smile on Bakugou’s face as he stares down at your ravished figure, your features filthy with sticky cum and sweat and tears. He’s intoxicated off the high of seeing you submit to him, the addicting feeling of breaking you down completely.
Gently, Bakugou detangles your legs from around his shoulders. He slumps down next to you, his eyes momentarily fluttering shut.
You were everything he dreamed of and more. Half of him is still in disbelief about what just happened.
Finally.
Bakugou can’t stop at just this.
He turns, hand reaching for you-
But comes up with empty sheets.
“Wha-,” he mumbles, pushing himself off the pillows.
“Thanks for this.” You’re standing by the window, hair unkempt and face still sloppy. Despite your frazzled appearance, though, you’re practically glowing with triumph.
“Wait a minute,” Bakugou growls, peering at the wad of fabric in your hand. “Are those... my boxers?”
You shoot him a wink. “See you around, Kats.”
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jackrrabbit · 3 months ago
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Adversary /// Overhaul x f!Reader (18+)
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Summary: You make a deal with the devil to save your life, but it turns out Overhaul’s not interested in your soul.
A/N: Remember when I said I was going to do a fantasy collab and then dipped for like 9 months? Hahaha…anyway…
@pleasantanathema @ present-mel @shadowworks—if it’s not too late, here’s my part for the Pleasant & Strider Fantasy AU Writing Collab from a million years ago. Go check out the masterlist and gorge yourself on these amazing pieces!!
Tags/Warnings: dubcon, demon fuckery & occult things, big heresy/sacrilege/perversion of religion, sex in a church ft. Catholic sex guilt, other than that it’s not that bad lol, inexperienced reader, mild degradation, shameless camp and demon-fucking clichés, Overhaul calls you “little girl” 👉👈
He doesn’t look like a demon.
Not that you really know what demons are supposed to look like. But…red skin, right? Fangs and claws and swirling masses of bad energy. Maybe cloven hooves for feet. Yes, that’s the Disney version—but even if you didn’t expect a cartoon personification of evil, you didn’t expect this.
He looks like a doctor, you think. Lab coat hanging open, surgery mask pushed down under his jaw, stethoscope draped over his shoulders. No, he’s a little young to really look like a doctor…an intern, you amend, shifting back in your hospital bed. He looks like he fits right in here, not a hair out of place. Except for, you know, the polished black horns curling out of the sides of his skull.
Overhaul. It was written in the book. That’s the only thing you have to call him in your head.
He’s standing in the center of the sigil you drew at the foot of your bed before midnight, surveying the room critically without meeting your gaze. He looks annoyed—that’s not a good sign, is it?—but then again, of course he’s annoyed. You’d be annoyed too if you got summoned out of your cozy hell dimension in the middle of the night. According to the book, you’re lucky he even showed up…although ‘lucky’ isn’t really how you’d describe yourself most days.
“So,” Overhaul says after a long moment of silence in which you question every choice you’ve made in your relatively short life. “You’re dying.”
You nod.
“And you don’t want to be.”
You nod again, wondering if you’re supposed to be contributing more to this conversation. It’s a bit difficult when your mouth is so dry it feels like you’ve been eating dirt, but you suppose being in the presence of an unholy servant of Satan will do that to a person.
“Fine.” He sighs, frowns, and then finally lowers his gaze onto yours—and you shiver.
Those eyes. No human has eyes like that.
“Make me an offer,” Overhaul tells you, and through his open mouth you catch a flash of sharp white teeth.
Okay. Okay. The chirping of the heart monitor speeds up (as if it weren’t obvious enough that you’re terrified) and you fold your knees up to your chest and fidget with your ring and think. He’s giving you a chance to establish parameters. You’re supposed to start with his end of the deal, the thing you want from him. That’s what it said to do in the grimoire, aka the 19th century demonology volume your creepy cousin brought back from her pagan anthropology research trip in rural France. The one you keep hidden under your bed because your mother would burn it if she knew you were reading about summoning demons.
Offer nothing to a hell creature without first telling him your price. You know the words by heart, both the winding calligraphy of the original French from the grimoire and the rushed scrawl of the English translation your cousin left for you in sheets of lined paper layered between the pages of the book for you to read. Really, this is her fault. She was the one who slipped you the book, who told you that it worked, who snuck you the ingredients for the summoning. She was the one who left a bookmark at the chapter on this particular demon, one that specializes in ‘Contrat pour Remédier au Déséquilibre des Quatre Humeurs’, which she said meant a contract to cure any illness. Even his ‘name’ is translated in her hand, practically an afterthought in the margins of the page.
‘Le Malin qui Ravage et Rebâtit’— Overhaul?
You looked up the literal meaning of this phrase on your own. It did not reassure you.
“Girl.” His voice is cold, irate. Your eyes snap back up to his and it feels like that burning gaze is laser-beaming into your skull. “Do not test me. My time is limited…as is yours.”
You swallow. “How long do I have left?”
“Less than a single human year,” he tells you without a trace of sympathy. “Seven months, twelve days, three hours. Or so. You’ll be too exhausted to leave this bed in four months, and the pain will become intolerable in six… By the end, you’ll wish—“
“Stop,” you breathe out. The heart monitor is beeping wildly and you squeeze your knees into your chest, trying to calm down your breathing. “Stop, I—I want to live.”
“Of course you do.” Overhaul’s lip curls. “How very predictable.”
Be specific, you remind yourself, doing your best to ignore the stifling disapproval from the man—the demon—in front of you. Something about him (maybe how clean-cut he looks, maybe the indisputable authority in his demeanor) makes you want to impress him. But you didn’t turn your back on your religion—you didn’t draw pagan symbols on the floor in chalk, fill silver cups with various questionable substances (including your own virgin blood), and turn the crucifix your mother hung over your bed upside-down so you could let a demon make you feel guilty for wanting to survive. “I want to be cured. I’m okay with whatever natural death I have instead when I’m older, I just don’t want to die of this illness. I want you to make me healthy.”
“Simple enough. What else?”
‘Simple’? Your heart surges with something you’ve felt very little of since your initial diagnosis—hope. “T-That’s it. Just the cure.”
Overhaul glares at you. “Humans… Every vice in the world available to you, and you limit yourselves to the basest priority of survival.”
“But you can do it? You can cure me?” you persist.
Overhaul steps forward (quiet, so quiet you wonder if he really moved) and holds a hand out to you past the foot of your bed—you hesitate, and a second later you can see the muscles in his hand flex, stretching the latex of his plastic gloves tight over his knuckles.
Just do it. You give him your hand. Carefully. Like you’re scared the contact will burn you. It doesn’t (although his skin feels warmer than yours), but after a moment his grip tightens, sliding down past your hand to circle the fragile bones of your wrist and squeeze.
“Ow?” You wince.
The demon’s eyes flicker closed for a second, lips moving silently like he’s talking to himself—and then he drops your hand unceremoniously back onto your lap. “You could be cured before the sun rises this morning. I doubt your stay in the hospital will extend past the end of the week.”
He sounds bored, voice as flat and passionless as it was earlier, but your heart is soaring. Cured. You’ve lived with this illness for so many years, you can’t remember the last time someone told you you could be cured. And getting out of the hospital that soon? You can just imagine taking down all the decorations from the walls of your room here and setting them up in your old bedroom at home. You could see friends on the weekend and not take an oxygen bag, you could get a job or—or apply to college, you could have a life—
“That is…assuming you have something to offer me in exchange for the cure.”
Your stomach drops. You’d almost forgotten about the other half of the deal.
“Don’t tell me I came all this way for nothing.” Overhaul steps back, and the orange light of the candles you set sends strange shadows over his arrogant face. The fires look brighter now, and you find yourself tracing the lines of those shining black horns. In an odd way, they look natural—so organically framing his temples that you can’t imagine him without them.
“N-No, of course not. I have some money—I mean, my mom has some, and I can get it for you…” Which is half the truth. If you know anything, it’s that your mother’s spent most of her savings on your treatment and care. You probably have more debt than you have money in the bank right now—you’d try to get rid of that, too, if you hadn’t read in the book how important it is to keep your request as simple and straightforward as possible.
…Although it’s apparently not enough. Overhaul’s eyes narrow, molten gold irises carved into slits. “Even if I had a use for human money, do you really believe your life is worth so little?”
“No—no,” you say quickly. “I just thought—in case you were interested—”
The air crackles with energy, the candle flames spark bright blood-red, and the hair on your arms stands straight up. “I am not.”
“Okay! I get it.” You wave your hands back and forth, pulling your IV line from side to side with the motion. The book was very clear about staying calm and rational while you work out the terms of the deal, but that’s easier said than done when you have a real live (live?) hell creature in front of you. You always knew this was going to be the hard part—all the stories say there’s only one thing that a demon would be interested in, and no matter how inviting the prospect of living past this illness is, you know you’d rather die than sell your immortal soul to the devil. “I’ll give you anything except my soul! And—and don’t hurt anyone I care about, or— just don’t hurt anyone, okay? Other than that, if there’s anything I can give you, I will.”
Overhaul’s lip curls, baring a thin strip of those unnaturally sharp canines. “And is your soul really so valuable?”
This throws you for a loop. Isn’t that the standard deal? A soul for a wish? That’s how it’s supposed to work—at least in this twisted version of reality where you can summon a demon to perform unholy miracles for you. But if you think about it, it doesn’t really make sense, does it? Why would your soul be valuable to him? You can’t form an argument, especially since you’re not willing to barter it away in the first place.
Your mouth is pursed open as you search for a response, but Overhaul doesn’t seem willing to wait. A gloved hand wraps its way around the railing at the side of your bed, and he leans in closer. “Little girl…what makes you think you possess anything I desire?”
Little girl. You’re not a little girl, you’re a grown woman—and yet there’s no untruth in the statement. In front of him you feel insignificant, immature, weak. You have nothing real to offer, and something tells you that you’re not going to get rid of the demon you summoned without a sacrifice you’re not willing to make.
You twist your ring around your finger—the nervous habit you haven’t bothered to break because you’ve always had more important things to worry about—and the glint of silver in the candlelight must catch Overhaul’s eye because before you even notice him moving, your delicate hand is trapped in his larger one to give him a better view of the tiny piece of jewelry. “What is this?”
“It’s—um, a ring. A purity ring.” Has he never seen one before? Well…actually, that makes sense.
Overhaul turns your hand over in his without touching the band of silver. He’s looking at it closely, inspecting the lovingly engraved cross in the design and the inscription on the other side. “Matthew 5:8,” he reads out.
“…Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God,” you recite cautiously. It feels wrong to speak the words in front of him, but somehow you can’t help yourself.
Overhaul’s hand doesn’t leave yours. “This ring is important to you.”
“It’s a symbol of a—a promise I made to God. To save myself for my future husband.”
“To ‘save yourself’? To save what?”
You can’t believe you’re explaining this to a literal demon. You close your eyes and inhale slowly and taste smoke. “My…virginity. It’s a promise that I won’t have sex until I enter into a biblical marriage.”
At this, Overhaul is quiet. You give him a moment to answer, half expecting him to question why you think God cares about your sexual status (honestly, you’d be lying if you said you haven’t wondered this yourself), but he stays quiet until you peek up at him to try and gauge the look on his coldly handsome face.
He’s still staring at the ring. He hasn’t touched it—maybe he can’t, because of the cross?—and through the latex, his skin feels hotter than a human’s is supposed to be.
“Is there…” you start, but you trail off when you realize you have nothing to ask. You give a little tug to try and take your hand away and you’re surprised when your wrist actually slides out of his grip to fall back on the nest of sheets in your lap. You didn’t think he’d let you go so easily.
Overhaul turns his head to the side, eyes drilling into you so you feel like you should lower your gaze. The candlelight flickers in strange shadows over his horns. “This will do,” he says quietly.
“What?”
“In exchange for your cure.” The demon taps his own left ring finger, the place where the purity ring sits on your hand, and your heart soars. He actually wants that? It’s just a simple silver band, not worth much, but you’re not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Maybe it has some special significance because of the religious connotation. Your mother will be angry you’ve lost it, but you’re happy to cope with that if it means living to actually get married!
“Yes!” you blurt out before he has a chance to rethink his offer. Sure, you’ll miss the purity ring—you’ve had it since you were a kid, after all—but there’s no question you’re getting the better end of this deal. At least in your opinion.
Something flashes through his yellow eyes, something you don’t even want to try and identify. “The contract, then.”
You barely have time to notice that his voice has gentled, that it’s practically silken in comparison to before, when the candlelight flickers again and suddenly the contract is everywhere. Everywhere. Writing appears on every surface in the room, covering the walls, stretching over the ceiling, coiling around the sides of the hospital equipment and decorating your bedsheets until you and Overhaul are the only untouched surfaces in sight. The characters are inscribed in red, dark red like—don’t think about that, you tell yourself squeamishly. You can make out some of the letters, even a word here or there—French, you recognize, mixed with what looks like Latin and interspersed with what you can only guess are runes.
“I can’t read this,” you tell him, fidgeting with your ring for what you now realize will be the last time.
“I only need your name,” he purrs, and then you feel a fragile weight in your hand: a feather, pearl-black and glossy and too large to belong to any bird you can think of, its angled tip glistening with wet ink. There’s an empty space in the writing before you, and Overhaul’s gloved hand comes to yours again to guide you into place.
This feels wrong…then again, of course it does. Even if you’re getting off relatively easy and just losing your ring rather than your soul, you’re still making a deal with a demon. You sign your name, forcing yourself to think about the future you have ahead of you rather than a disapproving white-bearded caricature of The Man Upstairs wagging his finger at you for haggling with a literal servant of Satan. People have done worse things to survive, haven’t they? It’s just a ring.
You set the feather down and Overhaul sighs, thick black eyelashes obscuring his intense gaze for a moment—and then the contract is gone, leaving your hospital room as blank and sterile as it’s supposed to be (well, aside from the candles and all the other ritual stuff you threw together to summon a demon in the first place).
“Are you going to cure—heal me now?” you ask.
“…Patience, little girl.” He’s pulling his glove off, peeling it down his fingers to bare the pale skin of his hand. You catch your breath and wonder what this is going to feel like, and then the tips of his fingers meet your cheek and—
you stop breathing.
It doesn’t hurt.
Or if it does, you don’t remember the pain a second later when breath floods back into your lungs. What you do feel is energy. Strength in your muscles, blood pumping through your veins, every inhale and exhale as light as a bird and freer. You feel healthy. You’re surprised you even remember what health feels like but you do: it’s like you’ve only been half alive, and now life is surging into you and through you and around you, bubbling up in your core like a spring overflowing. You blink rapidly, thinking you might cry from the sheer pleasure of it, but when you open your mouth it’s laughter that comes out. You’re healthy. You’re alive. You barely notice the IV line literally falling off of your skin because the hole where it entered your vein is sealed shut and healed perfectly.
No more needles. No more hospitals. Even without all the monitors beeping out your heart rate and measuring your vitals, there’s not a shred of doubt in your mind that you’re cured.
“Thank you!” you laugh, looking up at Overhaul and for the first time, not caring that he’s evil incarnate. “I feel—I’m okay! It worked!”
“Of course it did.” His expression is inscrutable, but he lets you have a few moments to enjoy your newfound health.
You roll your shoulders back, flex each muscle you can isolate one by one to test, make fists with your fingers and then run them over your hair, which is already thicker and shinier than it was a moment ago. Your body thrums with energy—you want to run, to feel the ground against your bare feet and the cold night air on your face, and you think you could do it! Your legs are already swinging over the side of your cot, ready to run barefoot out of the hospital if that’s what it takes, but before you can stand up Overhaul’s pushing you back down onto the bed.
“Have you forgotten your end of the bargain already?”
Honestly you did forget, but only for a second, only because you were so excited to just be outside again. “Oh, yeah. Of course.” Your hand goes to your left ring finger, ready to slip the ring off and hand it over, but Overhaul shakes his head.
“Not here.”
“What—?”
You’re falling. Your hospital room is disappearing, the image of your walls and your window and your bed disintegrating into yawning black, and you’re falling through it into nothing, into emptiness, and Overhaul’s still-bare hand in yours is the only anchor you have so you clutch onto it and squeeze your eyes shut. You want to scream—that’s the sane thing to do when you’re falling through miles and miles of empty space, right?—but when you open your throat the sound is swallowed up just like the light was…
Overhaul’s hand burns into yours, an improbable lifeline that you pull closer more out of terror than conscious thought. The slick, empty air rushes around you and you think I am going to die like this and then, incredibly, as soon as you’ve accepted your imminent demise, you feel your back mold onto a chilled, flat surface, vertebra by vertebra up to the back of your head, as if you’ve been lain down onto it.
Your heart thuds in your ears and you brace for an impact because your body hasn’t quite accepted yet that it’s not falling anymore—but at the same time, you know you’re lying down on something. You pry your fingers away from their vice-grip on Overhaul’s arm and feel around blindly for what’s underneath you, and when it seems reasonably tangible you let yourself open your eyes.
Way above, vaulted dozens of feet over your head, is a ceiling studded with gilt-edged frescoes and stained glass. It’s raining (even though it wasn’t in the hospital, you think) but through the massive panes of colored glass there’s enough oily blue light to make out that you’re in a church.
You’re in a church, with a demon. Isn’t that against the rules?
You sit up stiffly and look over at Overhaul, who’s standing at your side and looking down at you…which is how you realize the soft, cold surface you’ve been deposited onto is the blanket on top of the altar in the sanctuary. “Where...did you take me?”
“You should know this place.”
And you do, when you look around. It’s empty now and you’ve never been here at night, but this is a church your mother would bring you to when you were little, back before the disease got so bad you couldn’t risk traveling to it anymore. This is where you took your purity vow…the ring feels heavy on your hand. “Why—why—“
“I can’t stand human hospitals. Filthy places… How that reek of illness and death doesn’t bother your kind, I’ll never understand.” Overhaul pulls his latex glove back on. He’s dressed differently now, no longer impersonating a doctor—black shirt, black pants, and a…bird mask in red leather and gold. So are you, as a matter of fact. Instead of your hospital gown, you’re in a gauzy white dress that’s already been pushed up to pool around the tops of your thighs.
The slip is too thin for the cold, and you can feel your nipples standing up under the cloth so you fold your arms over your chest and hug yourself. “Why did you take me here?” The sound of your voice echoes off the walls eerily and you wish you hadn’t spoken so loudly. The reflection of your words sounds girlish, nervous.
“I told you. Your side of our contract.” Even in this dark, the angular features of his face are clearly concentrating—on you. “Are you already having second thoughts? Such a fickle little thing…”
“You mean the ring?” You reach for it again, ready to tear it off and throw it at him if that’s what it takes to see your deal through, but Overhaul snatches your hand away, pinning it above you.
“Not the ring,” he says. “The promise.”
The…promise?
A chill makes its way down your spine despite the heat radiating off the demon’s body and onto yours. “I don’t understand.”
“The promise,” Overhaul repeats—and you hear a sound almost like wings flapping and then he’s on the altar with you, knees straddling your hips as a single hand holds both your wrists above your head. “To remain a virgin until marriage. Your promise to God.”
A streak of lightning cracks down on the other side of the stained glass window behind the altar, illuminating the room briefly in spectacular pits of red and orange and yellow…and then it’s dark again, and the only color you can make out is the gold in Overhaul’s eyes.
“I’m going to break it,” he murmurs, lowering his head toward your ear right as the answering thunder rolls through the sanctuary, up through the altar, up into you.
///
Méfiez-vous de son piège, the grimoire said. Beware of the catch.
Of course it wasn’t just a ring.
Overhaul’s fingers are in—inside you, his middle and ring finger pumping through the length of your cunt like they belong there, like you were made to be touched this way. A mixture of your juices and your own spit cling to the latex because he made you suck his fingers before he put them in you and he hasn’t bothered to take his gloves off—not that you asked. You’ve been too busy biting your lip to try and muffle the moans that he keeps forcing out of you. He’s bracing himself on top of you with one hand and fingering you with the other, so your own hands are free to push into your eyes and hide your face…until he yanks your arm back and stops.
“Look at me.”
Your eyes are screwed shut and you shake your head back and forth, the movement shuddering your whole body right down to your pussy wrapped around Overhaul’s fingers. He slows the movement and kneels back, pushing one of your thighs up into your chest as he does it.
“Look at me.”
And you’re not sure whether it’s some unearthly power he has over you or the plain old deterioration of your willpower, but you can’t refuse him. You crack your eyes open and he’s glaring down at you, skin pale as ice in the blue light. Once he’s satisfied that you’re watching, the demon leans back in to fuck your cunt with his fingers, slowly at first and then quicker when he hits something inside of you—a spot, a place on the inner wall of your pussy that makes you feel like you’ve been shocked— heat blooms through you like blood in water and you gasp and he curls his fingers up to pet over that spot again.
“Wait—wait, that’s—it feels—weird!” You’ve never felt like this before. You’re not supposed to feel like this, it’s wrong.
“I understand you’ve never touched yourself, but don’t pretend you don’t like it.” Overhaul says, voice as indifferent and calm as ever even though your cunt is dripping clear sticky liquid over the plastic of his glove.
He pushes back in and grinds his palm over the little button on the top of your pussy—your clit?—and you want to scream. “No, I—I don’t—nnhh...”
Do you like it? The demon’s body is so hot next to yours, like he’s running a fever except you’re the one going out of your mind… You’ve heard metaphors for sexual pleasure before (that it’s like having something to drink when you’re dying of thirst; or that it’s the ultimate act of intimacy, love in physical form) but all of that’s a fucking lie. There’s nothing to compare it to, no reference that makes sense, because it doesn’t make sense—you don’t even want him to keep going, do you? You’re only doing this because you signed your name on a devil’s contract, because you don’t want to die and there’s no alternative…but that doesn’t explain why you feel so warm from the inside out, why you’re squirming and your hips are rocking involuntarily no matter how much you try to keep still. This isn’t right. You feel like you’ve been lied to.
A good girl wouldn’t like this.
Overhaul isn’t going to let you close your eyes, so you don’t—but the sounds coming out of your mouth are so…indecent (and how can you think these things about yourself? the word feels like someone else is saying it when you hear it in your head) that your hand is drifting up to your mouth before you can stop yourself, trying to stifle all of it…
“Let your voice out. I want you to hear yourself moan.”
Long fingers slide their way out of your pussy and then move up to rub quick little circles around your clit and you moan, like a whore, like a girl getting her cunt rubbed by a demon— “Oh, uhhhn—something, it’s—coming—“ There’s something building up in your core—a peak, a climax, something that makes you fist your hands in the nightgown he put you in (so tight you’re surprised the thin fabric hasn’t torn) and tilt your hips up into him, begging without words because you don’t have any to express what your body is asking for…
But he doesn’t give it to you. Overhaul takes his hand away from your pussy and the shock of the cool air after his too-hot touch is almost enough to send you over that edge—almost. Not quite. And without it, you’re left shivering and quaking, thighs twitching as your baser instincts beg you to just put your hand between your legs for once and hump your fingers to completion if the demon won’t do it.
You’re not going to risk that, though. Not when Overhaul’s dragging your body closer, bunching up the blanket on the altar under your spine, so your pelvis is angled to his… He’s already shirtless and you hear him unzipping his pants but you can’t bring yourself to actually look at him, even when you feel something hard and hot nudging up against your inner thigh and then aligning to your sticky wet slit.
“This will hurt a bit, but I want you to look,” he says, and you don’t even understand at first until you make yourself feel it—his cock, pushing up against your tight cunt to finish this, this perversion of what your first time was supposed to be…
And what was it supposed to be? Roses and candles and soft kisses? A nameless, faceless husband unzipping your wedding dress and making love to you with the lights off? The way the demon touches you should be cruel in comparison but it isn’t, it’s lighting fires under your skin and turning your brains to mush, so how is your body supposed to tell the difference?
It’ll hurt, you know that, you’ve heard enough about sex to know that it always hurts the first time for girls…women. It was already a stretch to fit his fingers in your virgin pussy, so of course his cock is going to hurt. You turn your head toward the window at your side and try on look out at the rain drawing rivulets like veins over the glass, something to focus on instead of him.
“I said look,” the demon hisses, and his hips push forward a bit and you bite off a whimper of pain. “Watch me take your virginity…look at your tight little cunt swallowing me up just like it was made to.”
“N-No—“ you whine, even though it’s not like you can ignore it. “Don’t make me, don’t make me look, I can’t—“
“Then look at me.”
It’s what he wants, some kind of wicked satisfaction he gets off on, but you’re lucky enough to even get an option so you choose that one, shifting your gaze up into his face instead of the place where his cock is pressing deeper and deeper inside you. Overhaul’s eyes are half-lidded and it’s hard to tell from behind the mask but the look on his face is…pleasure? No, that would be too human. Restraint, at least. He could just thrust up into your body in one stroke, but he wants you to feel it for some reason.
Maybe because it’s a worse betrayal of your chastity if you want to get fucked.
Lucky for you, though, you can barely feel anything aside from the pain. The heat you felt building earlier is draining out of you even as Overhaul tilts deeper, layering his chest over yours. You’re almost grateful for the modest barrier the dress provides between your torso and the solid muscle of his abdomen. His cock in your pussy feels like it’s too big too deep too much and it’s the first time you’ve felt like your body wasn’t created specifically for this purpose so you hold it tight.
“Does it hurt?”
A second of clarity makes you want to snarl (of course it fucking hurts, I’m losing my virginity to a demon I summoned from hell) and you dig your fingernails into your palms to stop yourself from saying it out loud. Overhaul pulls out a fraction of an inch and then pushes back in and you feel like the breath’s being pushed out of your lungs. “Yes! Yes, it—it hurts—“
“I can make you enjoy it…for a price,” he sighs, settling into a slow rocking motion of his hips pushing into yours.
And you want to, every sore muscle in your cunt is telling you to give in and give up, give him what he wants so you can enjoy it like he says—but you’d rather hate every second of this than make another deal. You shake your head quickly and because you’re still too afraid to look away from him, you don’t miss the look of surprise that flits across his face before he tamps it down. “I don’t—I don’t want to—like it,” you gasp out between thrusts. “It’s better if—if it h-hurts…”
This time it’s obvious—his eyes really do widen, and you feel some petty triumph at having caught him off guard like this. Who’s predictable now? you think—and then he’s lifting one hand off the altar at the side of your head and tugging his glove off with his teeth, and you don’t even have time to be afraid of what he’s going to do to you because it’s too late, his bare fingers are already stroking over your mound and onto your core, massaging into the flesh of your stomach so he can feel his own cock sliding in and out of you—
and it doesn’t hurt anymore?
You only have a second to try and understand—he cured you, he healed the pain from your first time just like he healed your illness?—before he hooks his grip under your thigh and folds your legs into your chest so he can fuck into you harder than before. His cock slaps into your pussy and you can hear it, hear how wet your filthy little cunt is, smeared through with your juices. It’s sick—the sound of skin against skin, and the moaning you can’t hold back, you sound like a woman in a porno and you wish the pain would come back just so you could keep hating what he’s doing to you. “What—what did you do—“
The demon ignores you. “It feels good, doesn’t it.”
“Nn—“ It’s deeper like this…deeper and rougher and you can feel it. Now that the pain’s been reduced to the dull ache of a stretched muscle, you can feel everything—his cock sliding against that same spot in your cunt that makes you want to squeal, the friction of his body moving against your clit, all of it, everything you wanted to block out— he pumps into you and you hear your breath sobbing out a moan a second out of rhythm, the sounds of you bouncing on demon cock echoing over the walls. “Please—ah, ahhh…”
“‘Please?’ Are you begging—me, little girl?” Overhaul pushes your thigh up and drags his cock through you, excruciatingly slow, forcing you to feel the thick head slide over every gummy wall in your slick pussy.
You shake your head, mewl, try to force your hips to stop rocking back into his and grinding your clit against him. But you can’t. You’re a—you were a virgin, for fuck’s sake! Overhaul’s immortal. Probably thousands of years of experience on how to make you feel like you want this, like you’re only alive in the places he touches you… You’re at his mercy, if he has any. You never stood a chance.
“Then are you begging your god?” His body lowers directly onto yours and like you’re being controlled by puppet strings your arms fold around him and rake your fingernails uselessly into the smooth skin of his back. You can feel the vibration of his mirthless laughter through his chest. “It must hurt terribly…to know he isn’t listening.”
“Don’t—stop, please,” you sob. “Don’t say—don’t stop—please!”
“Listen to yourself, girl—“ Overhaul’s breath is faster now, but you don’t have time to question it because you feel your peak coming again, the tension rising up through your cunt and your abdomen, harsher and crueler than when his fingers were in you but you want it just as much. More. “Has he ever answered your prayers? Has he...ahh, fuck—who’s the one giving you what you need?”
“No— please, please just let me let me, please—“ You’re talking nonsense now, begging for the release—at least then it’ll be over, and you need it, you need it so badly you feel your muscles locking up, cramping, your ankles crossing each other behind Overhaul’s back.
“Good girl,” the demon breathes, and then he lifts off you so he’s kneeling upright with the two of you still connected, his thick, heavy cock still speared in your pussy, and his fingers come down again to rub at your clit. Everything’s so wet you can hear the motion of his fingers slicking themselves through your juices, sliding up and down the little button over and over and it feels so good that a tiny part of you almost wants to drag it out, to savor it, but the rest of your body is going to die, is going to go crazy if the demon doesn’t let you cum right now, right now, right now!
And he does. Praise the Lord. The pads of Overhaul’s fingers pass over your clit one last time and your head rolls back, your throat moves but you can’t even make a sound, your legs shake and you cum.
You didn’t know it was like this.
Your cunt squeezes down on his cock, throbbing and pulsing and your toes literally curl (you didn’t think that was a real thing!) and your vision goes black for a moment and—oh fuck oh fuck i want this i want more how is it possible that i’ve never felt like this—you understand, more intimately than ever, why sex is wrong:
because nothing that makes you feel this good could possibly come without a cost, could it?
///
It must take longer than you thought for you to come back to your senses, because when you regain awareness of your body you’re in your hospital bed. You’re clean, too, and you wonder for a second if Overhaul bothered to clean you up? Or no…he probably just snapped his fingers and transported you back to your room. You’re not really sure how it works.
What you are sure of, however, is that you just got fucked by a demon. You’re sore in places that you didn’t know it was possible to be sore, and there are already bruises forming on the flesh of your thighs from how tight he was holding you. You don’t really have time to inspect these, though, because apparently your…ordeal (if you can call it that) isn’t over.
Overhaul’s still here.
He’s facing the hints of sunrise through the east window, dressed again in the immaculate lab coat and surgeon’s mask. “You’re awake,” he says without looking at you.
You nod hesitantly. You’re not really sure what the protocol is in this situation, but at least you’ve finally held up your side of the contract, right? And so has he. Despite having been up all night doing sinful things, you’re still itching to get out of this bed and test the limits of your healthy body. “You’re…going to leave, right?”
“Yes—”
At that, you sigh in relief and settle back into your starched bedsheets.
“But there’s one more thing you owe me.”
“Goddamnit,” you swear for the very first time in your life. After what you just did, taking the Lord’s name in vain seems like a relatively minor sin.
Overhaul’s mildly irritated expression doesn’t change, but he holds his hand out to you, palm up, the way you imagine someone would if they were helping you out of a car or requesting a dance at an old-fashioned ball. And really, you want all of this to be over—you want to get out of this hospital, you want to taste what the air outside is like, you want to distract yourself from what you just gave up in exchange for a future. At this point you’re just going to have to hope God isn’t as picky about the whole premarital sex thing as you grew up believing.
So you put your hand in Overhaul’s.
Slowly, carefully, like he’s afraid it’ll burn him, he slides your purity ring down your finger and balances it in the palm of his bare hand. It sizzles when he touches it, glowing orange until it eventually burns down into a ash-black circle in the center of his palm. Once he’s satisfied that your pretty little ring has been reduced to nothing more than a scorch mark, he closes his hand around yours and you feel something sharp, painfully hot, etching onto your finger.
It’s over in a second, but you still yelp and yank your hand away from him as soon as he lets you. “Ah—ow, what was that?”
He burned you, he literally burned you! He’s already healed it, but there’s still a thin, pale scar, an intentional one left wrapping around the skin at the base of your left ring finger. Like a wedding ring.
When you look close, you can make out a symbol on the back of your finger where the cross used to sit—and even though your conscious mind doesn’t recognize it, the sight of it rings out something inside your ribcage, deeper and truer than flesh and blood. It’s the devil’s mark, you think. It’s his.
“…A promise,” Overhaul says softly, and even though it’s a chilly morning, you can feel the heat of his hands on yours a long time after he vanishes back into the dark.
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tteokdoroki · 2 months ago
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had it | k.bakugou.
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♡ pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader.
♡ word count: 4.5K
♡ rating: everyone.
♡ genre: pro hero!au, married!au, fluff, comfort.
♡ summary: your pro hero husband is a show off, always has and always will be... but when his big ego gets in the way of you doing your job, you give him little piece of your mind..
♡ warning(s): please read ! mentions of violence, i gave reader a quirk?? bakugou with a daughter ok literally nothing. oh and angst if you squint.
♡ author’s note(s):  hi besties!! happy birthday to meee!! today i’m dropping a fic that’s been a long time coming, its a short and fluffy little piece with domestic baku bc i love him with babies n kids ok ok!! i hope you all have a lovely day <3
♡ masterlist | requests | kofi
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some say that working for a pro hero is an honour, no matter what the position is. some may work behind the scenes— creating gear and suits that support the pros protecting their cities or livelihoods. others are in charge of things like reports, PR and even physical health. everyone plays an important role in a hero's career. there’s never a dull moment working in a team supporting the pros, especially if that pro was dynamight.
the offices for katsuki bakugou’s hero agency were always buzzing; usually because the clean up team were rushing through with stacks upon stacks of receipts and paperwork from the damage done during bakugou’s patrols— other times it would be his secretaries gossiping about how good he looks in his winter costume because damn did that tight black shirt do his arms justice but usually it was just because of the PR team contacting media outlets with excuses for bakugou’s potty mouth.
working for the hot headed blonde was more laid back than it seemed however, the man himself was rarely ever in the office as the number two hero but out on missions instead, the pay was pretty decent and no one ever really faced his angry wrath nor his sailor like mouth unless they had royally fucked up on their job. katsuki bakugou was someone to admire, he never gave a damn about what people had to say about him— he only cared about getting the job done and maybe that’s why most people enjoyed their time under the dynamight agency.
particularly this time, right around noon.
the doors to the floor of the secretary offices fly open, crashing loudly against the walls and drawing the staff from their daily work. this office space is around ten floors up and somehow you’ve made it in record time today. “where is he?” your voice crawls through the entrance of the room, settling over the workers like a thick fog— commanding, menacing and soft all at the same time. newbies cower in their boots, confused at what’s going on and it’s safe to presume those who have been working here for years have yet to give them the run down. “don’t make me ask again.” you add, eyes darkening as you cast your gaze across the room.
an intern approaches you, visibly shaking with fear which makes you loosen your stance and raise an eyebrow toward them. “he-uh... he just went for his lunch break—“ the stutter, gulping under the stare of another highly ranked pro hero. “in his...office— ma’am!” they stumble through their words, hiding behind the ungodly amount of paperwork that's been dumped into their hands. you make a mental note to chew bakugou out on the load his interns have been getting as well as your prior reasons for coming to his agency.
nonetheless you shake your head and drop the frown, a sweet smile quickly replacing the look that could put anyone six feet under if you really tried. with a tap to the side of your head, the visor to your hero costume rises above your eyes— allowing you to give the poor little intern a cheeky wink as thanks. “‘ppreciate it darling, have a good one!” you thank them properly with a ruffle to their hair, resuming your previous stance as you march the rest of the way through the office and kick open the door at the end of the room.
the intern sags, a whimper of relief passing from tired lips while they wipe at the sweat forming on their brow. they’d not even encountered their boss yet and they’d already come face to face with a top pro hero. “w-what’s her deal?”
a chuckle to the left of the poor kid startles them out of their mind; but they relax upon realising it’s just another one of dynamight’s secretaries— haruto, who’d apparently been working at the agency since it started up. “that’s nightsky, her quirk is lullaby, which allows her to control certain people if she hits the right note. she can also put them to sleep, if she really wants to,” the intern now perks up, remembering you from countless interviews on tv. you ranked pretty highly too, managing to the reach the top five this year along with others like shoto and deku. “she owns the hero agency across the street, herself and dynamight have been going at it ever since. it’s like they’re elderly lovers or somethin‘.”
“d-do you think they are? lovers like you say?” the intern asks a little too excitedly, touching at their messy hair from where you’d ruffled it. a crimson blush warms their cheeks, the idea of two pros playing enemies to the public eye but being lovers in secret seemed like something right out of a romance novel. how romantic.
haruto only chuckles at the newbie, standing to ruffle their hair as well before heading over to the coffee stand to fix himself a cup. “beats me,” he mumbles cheerily as he walks away, arms crossed behind his head. “but with the way yn bursts in here at the same time everyday to scold bakugou, and leaves with a huge smile on her face— i wouldn’t put it past them. they probably have a whole life together.” he taps his nose once as if he’s given away too much information, turning away without a word.
the intern hums, seemingly happy with their superior’s answer and easily heads back to work from there.
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katsuki bakugou was bored out of his mind.
being a successful pro hero was all he’d ever wanted— being the number two pro hero just came with that. bakugou wanted to get to the top and show everyone he was the best of the best and with him being blessed with a powerful quirk there was no way he couldn’t be where he was today. yet, now that he’d finally achieved his dream all he wanted was a fucking break. the blonde stares down at his microwaveable bowl of home cooked stew, a frown cutting deep into his cheeks. it was his lunch break for crying out loud, but instead of scarfing down the delicious meal before him, the hero was forced to watch it cool as some dumb fuck reporter asked him questions over the phone.
the telephone interview ( or a waste of his fucking time, as katsuki had called it ) , had been set up by his PR team right after he’d taken down a couple low level villains downtown earlier this morning. katsuki had called it nothing but apparently the whole world and their mother had been on his ass, watching as he took the criminals down with ease and raving about how glorious dynamight was during that fight. the reporter drones on about said event, asking the same old questions and it takes everything within the hot headed pro not to blow a casket— he’d been promised a few extra days off from his manager if he could finish the interview without blowing something up and only god knew how much katsuki needed a break from dumb paps and some overly obsessive fans.
‘so, final question, how does it feel to be the number two?’
bakugou grunts, buying himself time to formulate an answer. what he really wants to do is kindly tell the reporter to fuck off and ask more original questions; but with the prize of a longer weekend hanging in the balance he bites his tongue for the sake of freedom. “well i—“
“katsuki bakugou.” your voice cuts through his sentence before he can finish, vermillion eyes land on your hero costume clad form as you burst into his office. a lazy smirk now decorates the hero’s lips, brow quirked with piqued interest. “i have a bone to pick with you, you motherfucker.”
the reporter on the other end falls silent as katsuki watches you, leaning back in his plush leather chair. you look slightly disheveled, costume torn in a few places, scrapes littering your skin as you pant heavily from exertion— chest rising and falling with every breath, it seems ragged and bakugou makes a mental note to remind you to get your ribs checked out later. “you’re late, shitty woman.” the number two sits up a little straighter as you enter the room, leaning up to look at you while you slam your hands down on the smooth marble desk— the force rattling the items he has neatly placed on it.
‘uh-? mister...dynamight-? sir?’
your eyes sweep the room while the pro before you deals with the reporter, mentioning to her that they’ll have to continue their call later. in the meantime, you note that katsuki’s office is meticulously clean, not a single book, folder or pen out of place— it’s high up with a perfect view of the city and the large windows allow golden beams of the sun to light up the room. the sound of a phone being placed back on its hook brings you from your thoughts; annoyance settling deep in your veins as you turn to face bakugou again.
“i had it,” you growl lowly, jumping the gun before he can even register what you’ve said. “i’m a grown woman, katsuki, i can handle a couple of criminals myself, you know.”
the blasting hero does nothing but smirk even wider at the irked tone that litters your voice, standing up as well to tower over you. bakugou still wears his own hero costume, considerably in less damage than yours— not a single tear had formed in his suit, mind the small scratches on his face no doubt from his stupid explosions creating some debris. leaning over the desk between you, bakugou uses a forefinger and thumb to tilt your head up, bringing you even closer than before. “clearly y’didn’t sweetheart, or otherwise that icyhot bastard wouldn’t have needed to back you up ‘fore i got there...” his timbre voice sends sparks of electricity through the air in the room, it’s low and gravelly which is enough to send shivers down your spine but you’re not about to let katsuki bakugou know that he makes you flustered— it’d go straight to his head, the cocky bastard.
nonetheless; you roll your eyes at the mention of your old classmate and fellow pro hero— shoto todoroki. yourself and shoto got along fairly well, even back in high school, so it was normal for you to work together from time to time; you both made a great team and your skill set complimented each other’s well. katsuki was just jealous. he never really got along with todoroki like that. “he didn’t back me up, we were working together,” you snap back at the blonde, shaking yourself from bakugou’s grasp and flicking him right between those alluring vermillion eyes. “something you might not be familiar with, mister number two.” bakugou backs away from you completely ( only wincing slightly ), making you smirk in victory. you’ve struck a nerve. deciding to leave the conversation at that, you turn to make your exit as he collapses back into his seat with a deathly scowl and a quiet ‘tch’. “like i said, i had it, dynamight. next time, don’t jump in uninvited.”
happy that you got the last laugh, you open the door to leave his office but pause when a wave of heat hits your back. you should have known, katsuki bakugou was never one to back down from a challenge and you certainly weren’t an exception. well shit. when you turn around to face the blonde, small explosions spark from his right hand and he has some what of a look of a feral pomeranian, blood red eyes full of rage.
you visibly gulp and katsuki growls out his next words with the upmost venom, designed to hurt and cut at your feelings. “well maybe y’sudda let the actual pros handle shit like this,” bakugou begins, voice rising in volume with every syllable that passes his lips. “we both know you’re no good at short distance attacks with your quirk, shitty woman, you couldn’t have taken those villains down without me.” the blonde finishes with a short ‘tsk’, settling the explosions that spark in his palms. now it’s your turn to be pissed. you could handle katsuki’s jealousy, his petty reasoning for joining you on your patrol and taking the credit but bashing you and your quirk? no way in hell would he get away with that.
“bakugou?”
“what? the fuck y’still here for?”
you roll your shoulders, gracing the blonde with a devilish smile as your eyes light up mischievously. “why are you hitting yourself, bakugou?” you sing, hitting just the right notes that will have him under your spell, the tone in your voice as smooth as chocolate. katsuki’s eyes widen in horror and before he can stop himself, his free hand comes up to slap him across the face. that was your quirk, lullaby. you had the ability to sing your way out of any situation— adjusting the tune of your song to control the actions of certain individuals or groups of people. it was near impossible to resist but the more people you used your quirk on, the weaker your control over them was. that doesn’t mean you weren’t going to use it on bakugou from time to time. the blonde tries to fight it, he really does, but he’s no use up against your ability— losing all control of his own body. he grunts on impact, looking bewildered for a moment as he moves to grab his own wrist to stop any impending blows. “not so cocky now, are we dynamight?”
“h-hey!” he stammers, refusing to accept defeat against you. “shitty woman, no fuckin’ fair. you know i can’t use my quirk against you in here.” he was right, while your quirk was poor against short distance attacks ( meaning you had to result to hand to hand combat ), bakugou couldn’t use his own in enclosed spaces without hurting anyone he didn’t want to. especially you, he would never hurt you intentionally unless you were sparring.
“shoulda thought about that before you decided to taunt me, you know better than to piss off your wife, katsu.” you chide, still smiling just as brightly as you were earlier, before taking a seat on his desk and folding one leg over the other. it was quite amusing to watch your husband of four years fight against himself— everyone knew katsuki had an unbelievable amount of strength even without his quirk so he was definitely beating himself up ( literally and figuratively ).
bakugou looks up at you through gritted teeth while he struggles to keep the wrist you have control of down and you almost feel bad for the guy. “turn it off, dammit!” he curses at you, said hand rising above his free one to tug at his own sun kissed locks.
feigning interest in the objects on your lover's desk, you ignore his pleas for you to release him from the holds of your quirk and hum “apologise.”
“f-fuck... fuck y-you.”
you sigh knowingly, picking up a hand crafted paperweight, covered in glitter and sequin stars,  inspecting it carefully. bakugou could hardly ever say the word ‘sorry’, it was just in his nature and he’d been that way since you were young. part of you knows it’s because of how he was treated as a child where people praised him for his quirk. that meant he became prideful yes, thought highly of himself too and struggled to admit when others were right...but he had his own way of apologising— through actions instead of words.
like when you first moved in together and he had broken your favourite mug, instead of saying he was sorry, he spent all night super glueing it back together for you to use in the morning. to him, actions were louder than words but you right now; you were being mean and just wanted to hear him say it.
“fuck fuck, fine. alright. ‘m sorry.” bakugou lets out a strained growl as the hand you control gives a particularly hard yank to his hair. “i’m sorry for lying about your quirk. it’s not shitty…’n ‘m sorry for... barging in on your patrol. again.” you grin, satisfied with his answer and grab the hand he keeps down with his wrist. you press a simple kiss to the skin, making your husband blush as you release your hold over the limb. katsuki shyly yanks it from your grip, rubbing over the area that you’d kissed, shooting his gaze to the side in the process. “jesus shitty woman, if i don’t die from being a hero or of old fucking age, i know for a fact you’ll be the one to kill me first.” he mutters harshly under his breath, but you know he’s only kidding from the way his hands now fall to your thighs and his fingers rub small circles into the exposed skin.
“pro hero nightsky murders number two pro hero dynamight in cold blood!” you joke as if you’re reading a headline in a news article, katsuki only glares up at you— making no effort to curse you out because of your shitty joke, which causes you to frown while leaning  forward to brush some of his hair away from his face. “you know i’m only kidding right? is something wrong? did i come at a bad time?”
it’s only now that you notice the exhausted expression that paints your lover’s face. he’s always up to playing this game with you, at the same time every day— you come to bother him about some trivial matter, tease him a bit and leave with a kiss. but today, you can tell he’s trying to hide something from you. something that bothers him.
bakugou shakes his head, leaning into your touch as you play with his hair— a habit he’d picked up from even before you started dating back in high school, although he’d never admit that to you if you’d asked. “nothin’, just this stupid fuckin’ interview the PR team want me to do about the fight today. the one i took from you,” your husband smirks slightly at the thought and you roll your eyes for what seems like the nine hundredth time that afternoon. “didn’t get to finish my fuckin’ lunch but they promised me a couple days off if i got the interview done.”
“better the number two than me, eh? but don’t worry, i’ll order us some take out tonight,” your suggest, voice coming out as soft and mingling with your slight giggle— a quiet melody to katsuki’s ears. your only reply from him is a grunt, so you stop your fingers in his hair and watch as he scowls up at you. you quickly press a kiss to the explosive hero’s lips, pulling away to reveal his blushing face. you smile, knowing that you’re the only one who can make him flush red like that. “there’s something else bothering you, isn’t there?”
if there’s one thing katsuki bakugou hates, it’s how you read him like an open book. one look at him and it’s like you know exactly how he’s feeling. he can never hide anything from you— sometimes that both pisses him off and reminds him of how much he is loved by you. he hesitates with his words at first but decides to confide in you anyway, knowing that you’ll get it out of him in one way or another. “‘m worried about you, dumbass.” he mumbles, nudging your hand with his head as if to ask you to continue your earlier actions. “i know you had it, yer fuckin’ powerful but you looked so tired in that fight today ‘n i thought something bad was gonna happen to you, y’fuckin’ shitty woman.”
he toys with the tears in your costume now, smoothing over scars from your bumps and scratches as a result of combat. “oh lovebug,” you mumble, cupping his cheeks to make him look up at you. “you know i can handle my own, they just took a lot out of me today. i promise i’ll—“
“that’s not it, fuck,” katsuki cuts you off, brows furrowing deeply as he grabs your wrists— pulling your from his desk and into his lap. he holds you close, burying his nose into your neck as if you’re going to disappear. you sit still, a little shocked by his actions and his quick change of mood, but wrap your arms around him anyway and slowly fall silent. “it's just that...we’re both pros now and at the top of our ranks ‘n we both have a lot to lose.” you instinctively cling tighter to katsuki, mind flickering to the homemade paperweight you’d spotted on his desk earlier... causing your heart clench.
your daughter had made that for him during her time at preschool for fathers day; something your husband cherished with his whole heart, even if the thing was still sticky with glue when he’d gotten it.
katsuki loved taiga more than anything in the world and if something had happened to her because of your line of work, you don’t know what either of you would do. “what if something were to happen to you? or to me? or shit...both of us? who would look after taiga? you know what happens to kids who end up in the fucking system.” bakugou pauses, the same tired expression from earlier now sitting heavily on his face. “i just want you to be careful, stop pushing yourself so much, y’fuckin’ dumbasss. we have a family take care of. it’s not just you and i anymore.”
you nod, grasping onto your lover’s clothes tightly. the air is flooded with a comfortable silence, the pair of you holding one another right the way through it. you treasure moments like this, where the world stops and katsuki shows you another, more vulnerable side to him.
he would never admit or show this to anyone; but he cares , more than he lets on... especially for you and especially for your daughter. he was attentive, paid attention to you and your weaknesses and helped you overcome them. it was something you couldn’t stop loving about him. “i promise to be more careful, for you and for taiga,” you say quietly after he’s done scolding you, brushing your lips against the side of his head in a soft peck. “that must’ve been why jumped in earlier, you were worried about me?”
“somethin’ like that, you crazy woman,,” bakugou whispers, there’s a tinge of fondness to his ruby eyes as you pull away to look at him, his hands settling on your hips while he moves up to press a soft kiss to your awaiting lips. “didn’t want you getting yourself killed.”
you stay with katsuki in the office for a little longer than usual, laying on his chest as he prattles away about everything and anything even though he should be working. you make sure he eats his lunch, despite how cold it is and promise him a boat load of take out when he comes home later— your sweet cuddling session only being cut short by a call from your assistant to tell you that your daughter is ready to be picked up from school. “better finish that interview katsu, taiga’ll be happy to know her daddy’s getting some time off to spend with her soon,” you remind him as you gather yourself together, your husband pouting ( he swears on his life he wasn’t ) from the loss of your warmth in his lap. “she has a lot to tell you.”
the blonde quirks a brow, watching you as you head for the door. “yeah? like what?” a hand comes up to cover your mouth as you giggle at his curious face. sometimes, when you look at katsuki, you could see how much your daughter resembles him, right down to his mannerisms. she had somehow inherited the shape of your nose and the brightness of your smile ( the only reason barely anyone realised bakugou had a kid, he never fucking smiled. ) but the bakugou genes were incredibly strong so there was no way she’d miss out on those crimson eyes and uncontrollable, untameable messy blonde hair.
she even acted like him. a very brazen little girl who knew what she wanted and how to get it, so she had her daddy wrapped around her stubby little fingers.
you grin, eyes sparkling with the same mischief as before. “oh y’know, just her little crush on midoriya’s boy.”
“yer fuckin’ kiddin’ me.”
“i would never joke about such a thing,  just make sure you’re home in time for dinner, number two!” you squeal, dashing out of the office before your husband has time to demand more answers from you. slamming the door shut, you chuckle at the melody of curses that leave your husbands mouth before heading off to pick up your daughter.
on your way, you admit to yourself , that maybe you didn’t have this fight in the bag. but what you did have; was a loving husband, a beautiful daughter and the best life you could have ever imagined.
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extended ending:
“so, taiga... daddy hears you have a little... crush on someone.”
you’re in the kitchen, washing the dishes from tonight’s dinner as bakugou wipes tentatively at your little girl’s messy face— she was a poor eater but it’s something you didn’t mind, not when your husband was so soft with cleaning her up. you can see them from where you stand, watching katsuki knowingly.
taiga looks up from the colouring you’d set out for her when she finished up her meal, crimson eyes shining brightly as she fixes her gaze on her father. “mhm mhm!! he’s mister deku’s son! and i’m gonna marry him!”
“no yer not.” bakugou answers simply, looking close to popping a vein.
“why not?”
your husband scoffs, throwing away the tissue he’d used to clean his little girl up before joining her in her colouring. “‘cause daddy says so ‘n boys are gross, especially ones who’s dad’s look like broccoli.” the older ash blonde seems satisfied with his answer, grinning to himself as you dry the dishes with an amused smile.
but taiga isn’t finished, swapping her green crayon for a red one to finish up her drawing. “but you’re a boy...and mommy still married you!”
bakugou pauses, lost for words as taiga continues to colour— humming the theme song from a commercial for some of deku’s merch. you can tell it’s taking everything katsuki’s got not to combust right there on the spot, but he can’t stay mad at taiga for too long, not when she’s describing her wedding and how her daddy is going to walk her down the isle.
setting the dishes to dry and towelling your hands; you smile to yourself as you admire your family. some would say you had it all, and looking at the pair of bakugou’s now, who were you to deny the truth.
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shotorozu · 3 months ago
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‘hey y’all i’m here w/ my best friend’
tiktok prank
character(s) : todoroki shouto, midoriya izuku, bakugou katsuki (bnha)
based off this tiktok
legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, quirk not mentioned
headcanon type : crack, fluff (x reader)
note(s) : yeah so my activity is pretty wonky 💀 anyways have you guys seen how momo looked like in the new episode? hot and the baddest b word in the house, as always
»»————- ♡ ————-««
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todoroki shouto
you think it’ll be hilarious to see, because his reactions are always top tier
despite his usual stoic and neutral expressions, with you— his expressions are versatile, and he creates expressions no one thought he was even capable of 💀
when your classmates saw your tiktoks, it was shocking to all of them, excluding the obvious, which was you of course
but lowkey, you’re scared 💀 shouto could go from this loving, and sweet boyfriend, to the coldest bitch alive
still, you decide to go through with it
doesn’t think too much when you ask him to be in a tiktok, it’s quite routine at this point— plus, he finds it fun
but the AUDIOO
and shouto’s always willing to be in any tiktok you want him to be in, BUT
‘bestfriend’ 😐❓ who are you calling ‘bestfriend’
stops in place and looks at you like you just slapped him, did he hear that correctly? like,, why the hell are you calling him your ‘bestfriend’
he’s your lover
“boyfriend.” he corrects you stern, but you pretend that you don’t hear the correction, “you mean, you’re here with your boyfriend.”
and yet, you go on like you didn’t hear a thing, shouto’s eyes narrow— and it almost feels like his right side has been activated just slightly
you have to hold back a shiver when he gets real close to you “boyfriend. not best friend, i’m your boyfriend.”
he doesn’t mean to be this worked up about it, it’s just a tiktok— and when you move the camera away, completely ‘unbothered’ he feels himself growing impatient
and when the video ends, the cool atmosphere seems to break into two, when you burst out laughing
“shou, it was just another tiktok prank, we’re way past the bestfriend stage, and you know it!” you poke his cheek, still laughing at his reaction
but, he’s relieved. your acting was good— and he’s glad that he’s not just imagining things.
otherwise he’d have to start acting desperate
the video gets a good amount of views and likes, and comments are INTERESTING “ooo did you see the way he just went up all close 👀” “i can feel the cool aura BWNDKWS” “he got so worked up 🏃💨 oh to have a relationship like that 😔🖐💔”
in short, never address him as your best friend. you either address him as ‘shou’ ‘love’ ‘pretty boy’ or ‘my boyfriend’
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midoriya izuku
the trend itself isn’t the funniest thing on tiktok, but it’s the reactions that makes up for it, y’know?
that’s why you decided to pull this ‘prank’ on izuku— his reactions are golden afterall
but a part of you couldn’t help but feel worried if he’d take personal offense 💀
similar to todoroki, your boyfriend is very willing when it comes tiktok pranks— despite it being well,, intense, sometimes
looked SO confused when you called him your ‘bestfriend’ and the smile is WIPED off his face
“b-bestfriend?” he has to make sure he heard it correctly, and he wants to throw a hissy fit when you ignore him
“Y/N?” he nudges his head on your shoulder, not liking the idea of being presented as your best friend, “i’m your boyfriend!” he laughs nervously
literally pouts
the struggle doesn’t last terribly long, as izuku continues to mouth boyfriend, when the word ‘best friend’ is being said (also while he smiles at the camera with awareness, he’s growing petty, can’t you tell?)
and also while he tries to make you look at him, by showcasing a look of innocence while leaning on, just because
when you finally acknowledge him with a stifled laugh, his expression is like 👁👄👁❓❓
yet, izuku’s relieved when you start full on laughing, wonderful laughter falling from your lips, the desperation calming down
and— the sudden mood change is well,, impressive! he was literally distressed from the word ‘best friend’ just a second ago, and now he’s relieved 💀
“r-right, you know i’m not just your best friend,” and he looks into the camera with satisfaction
the tiktok blows up, and comments overall— went insane over him
“mann he was so desperate 💀 he just kept correcting you” “bruh he was like ‘hold up’ 🖐😭” “NEVER call him your best friend again🏃💨 just look at that satisfied look at the end‼️” “aww look at that pout 🤩”
izuku’s surprised, sheepish— when all of his friends inform him about the sudden rise of his appearance on the app (afterall, he’ll still remain with you, even if he got even more popular)
needless to say, izuku will get desperate if you call him your best friend— man already spent some time being called your best friend and he won’t bear being called it for any longer
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bakugou katsuki
should,, you be scared? you should be but you’re not 💀 you can’t find yourself fearing death, since you’re dating katsuki bakugou
you say fuck it, and rope katsuki into your tiktok antics once again.
and to any outsider’s eyes, it would be surprising when katsuki joins in on your tiktok schemes
but it not— even though the blond pretends to hate it, he secretly loves doing these with you
except, that statement is ABOUT to be retracted back, when the audio mentions the word ‘best friend’
excuse you? katsuki is faar from being your best friend. that word literally makes him cringe, he hated being stuck in the friend zone even though katsuki looked like he didn’t care when he was still stuck in it
he literally glares at the camera, his palm’s already popping with mini sparks. if you were anyone else, you would’ve started pleading for your life but you fear NOTHING at this point
“who the fuck are you calling best friend??” he’s furious, and you try your best to ignore it, biting back laughter— as you film the tiktok
“i’m talking to you!” he fumes, getting even closer to you— and you don’t seem to budge, as you continue to record
then, he YANKS your phone out of your hands, and starts talking, well yelling— as if the tiktok would record his voice anyway
“i’m their boyfriend thank you very much! now fuck off extras! this ‘bestfriend’ will beat your asses!” he scolds as if he’s talking to the potential viewers, and stops recording— and hands your phone back to you calmly
you’re laughing your ass off, experiencing absolute field day, and he’s just like 😐🖐 looking super unpleased how could he not? he’ll never admit that he was this worked up though
similar to midoriya, the friendzone was a pain in the neck for him— so to make him feel like he was thrown back in it for a tiktok
just because it’s for a tiktok, doesn’t automatically give you an easy pass
“you were SO mad” you laugh at his expression, and he just says
“shut the fuck up, and you better not post that shit!” then proceeds to scoop you up, despite all your protests— and haul you into his room
you gotta give him cuddles, or he’ll be like 👹 a literal demon for the rest of the day.
but on the bright side— you have content‼️and the video did blow up, despite initially telling your boyfriend you wouldn’t 💀
“omg, you don’t fear death, death fears YOU.” “i can literally hear his voice through the screen, we love a protective boyfriend 🤩” “fly high, it’s been 4 hours since they’ve posted 😔🕊”
and when kirishima informed him about his sudden boom of popularity on tiktok, he knew that you had some explaining to do 🧍‍♀️
»»————- ♡ ————-««
likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!
i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby
do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission
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h4rdbimbo · 3 months ago
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I COULDN’T HELP IT
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A/N: heyyyy this is my piece for @ultimate-astridwriting milf fuckers collab! I’m sorry if it’s kinda shit— i speed ran this today Huhu, Hopefully, I did this right and hope you like it! I’m sorry for any misspellings and bad grammar! I’ll fix them later!
PAIRINGS: KIRISHIMA X MILF!READER
WARNINGS: {SMUT, MOMMY KINK, BOOBJOB, BATHROOM SEX, CREAMPIE, CUNNILLINGUS, PERVERT!KIRISHIMA, DIRTY TALK, DOM!READER, NIPPLE PLAY(?), BEGGING}
TAGGING;; @cherrytaye @oh-nohoney @ari-gumi @izukuuarchive @eijishimas @bunnie-babey @ttogaslut ;; to be part of the tag, please go checkout my NAVIGATION
WORDS: 2590
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“Thanks for coming man..” Katsuki opens the door for Kirishima, apparently, they’re having a mom and son bond. Katsuki needed to bring HIS friend and Mitsuki will bring HER friend. Kirishima went inside katsuki’s house, and it’s goddamn big. Kirishima starts walking around the house and following bakugou, bakugou digs his hands into the pocket of his sweatpants. He stopped to look out the window from afar, it had a view of the backyard. Kirishima was looking at his phone then to Katsuki “so..what’s up?” He wanted to fill up the empty silence, “nothing much.” Katsuki sighed and licked his teeth, “to be honest— I usually hate family bondings.” Before Kirishima could open his mouth and speak, bakugou said “but I don’t think I hate it that much now..” he smirked, Kirishima didn’t get what Katsuki meant. So Kirishima followed where katsuki’s eyes were glued on. And Kirishima was NOT disappointed.
The two boys’ eyes were glued on to you, and you were doing squats in the backyard, with those tight yoga pants. Kirishima inhaled sharply “o-oh shit.” He pulled his shirt down to hide the hard-on in his pants. The blonde chuckled, “I know right...that’s y/n, my mom knew her since high school—“.
You stopped squatting and saw Mitsuki give you water to drink and take a break, “whew, you ready for lunch?” Mitsuki asked you, “yeah, Let’s head inside” you huffed and chuckled.
“How old is she??” Kirishima asked bakugou, “somewhere in her 30’s, she’s divorced, has kids but they’re hanging out with her ex, bet her ex-husband regrets leaving her too—“
You and Mitsuki opened the back door and went inside, bakugou started greeting you and getting all touchy with you, “hey.. missed you so much miss L/n”. You chuckled in response, wiping your sweat with a small towel that’s resting on your shoulders. Someone new caught your eye, it was a red-haired man— looking at your chest. Kirishima sensed that you were looking at him so he snapped out of it and started to look around. “Hey..who’s this young man?” You smirked, then looking at him with a nice warm smile. “This is my idiot friend, Eijiro Kirishima” bakugou answered.
You tilted your head with a cute smile on your face, then slowly approaching him. “He doesn’t look like an idiot to me.. he looks very handsome, how many girlfriends do you have?” You joked around. You were so close to Kirishima, and his pants is just getting so uncomfortable right now, he’s trying his best to look at you in the eyes— “haha.. no I-I don’t have a girlfriend,” he laughed nervously.
“He just turned 19 this year,” Mitsuki stated out, you turned your head to look at Mitsuki with an impressed expression, and she nodded in response. “19 but still a virgin..” bakugou mumbled out then snorted, he’s somewhat trying to embarrass the redhead. “Katsuki!” Mitsuki slapped bakugou on the arm, you ignored what katsuki said, just because you didn’t care at all. Kirishima stayed quiet and looked down from all the embarrassment that's in him. Suddenly he got a bit startled when you started to touch and squish his biceps. He started to feel really flustered— “wow. You work out?” You rubbed his arm, he starts to breathe heavily “y-yeah I do..” he’s never been touched like this by a woman before; it’s really nice. “Oooh.. mind if you help me with my workout later? I’m sure you can teach me a couple of things..” your hand slides down to his hand, slowly massaging it. Kirishima feels really hot and bothered, his heart started racing and his eyes kept shifting to your chest. “I can help you miss—“ bakugou tried to say something but Mitsuki stopped him once again, “no, katsuki, you’re helping me set up lunch.” Mitsuki then walks to the kitchen, while bakugou huffs in annoyance— following his mom to the kitchen.
“Alright, eijiro.. let's start” you smiled, then walking out in the backyard. Kirishima followed, he stayed behind since he does not know the pattern of bakugou’s house— and another main reason to stay behind you is to look at your ass. You stood on the yoga mat, “so where do we start?” You put your hand on your waist and huffed. He gulped and looked around— thinking of simple workouts for you. So you decided to ask him if he knew yoga, he responded with a yes obviously; he knew yoga from porn, he’s been watching scripted porn— where the man rips the lady’s yoga tights and well..the rest goes on. Next, you asked him if he could help you be more flexible with the yoga positions...he couldn’t deny it.
You went on a cat-cow position, “hey sweetheart, mind if you help me here?”. Your hands and knees on the yoga mat, you looked behind him and smiled. You caught him looking down directly at your ass, “yeah— yeah I can..help” he lowers himself down to his knees and asked what he needed to do. You didn’t reply yet— instead, you took his hand and laid it on your lower back, telling him to help you arch your back a bit more. He pressed your back softly, which lead you and helped your back arch while your ass perked up. You gave small grunts and moans, “mm..there we go, keep doing that sweetheart..” you chuckled but it fused with a moan.
After minutes passed— he’s already helped you with lots of positions, and sometimes you felt his hard-on pressed against you, and he would apologize a lot. He couldn’t keep his composure anymore so he told you that he was going to go for a bathroom break.
You knew why he wanted to go to the bathroom; still..you acted innocent. He rushed to the bathroom and huffed. Kirishima looked at the hand that he had touched you with, he threw his head back and slowly escalated his hand underneath his bottoms. He began to give his cock slow strokes, his back pressed on the door. Closing his eyes as he imagined many erotic things of you: you giving him a nice and relaxing boob job, you letting him hump your ass— just endless imaginations filled his brain. He hunched his back, swallowing back his breaths and trying not to be so loud, he was so close to his climax until a knock on the door occurred. He flabbergasted and he got scared, he fixed himself and opened the door— to his surprise..it’s you!
“Hey sweetheart, I need to clean myself up” you chuckled, you were so sweaty and Kirishima liked that very much. “Do— you need help with that?” He’s so desperate in helping you; just let him do anything for him to get to touch you again. Your eyes widened in surprise “o-oh, alright. well, can you wipe the sweat off my back please?” You smiled, then making your way into the bathroom and closing the door behind you. You hand him the towel and turned your back to him, his body shivered and you can see his facial expressions through the reflection of the mirror. His soft hand rests on the side of your hips and his other hand then wipes the sweat off your back. He went a little too close to the point you felt his boner between your ass, “!oh—“ you got startled. “Fuck- I’m so sorry” he moves his hips back, you felt his hand getting cold and it’s shaking at the same time. You decided to put your hand on his hand that’s on your waist; just to make him a bit calm. “What’s wrong sweetheart?..” you smirked, he curled his lips inwards and inhaled deeply. He wasn’t sure what to say, all he could do was enjoy the scene. You giggled and lifted his hand on the strap of your bra, “do you want to remove it?..”. His hand twitching for him to just remove your bra already, so he laid the towel on the counter, and without hesitation— he gradually used his two hands to go on the two straps of your bra, then slowly discarding your sports bra. He once again moves closer to you, his chest pressed against your back, you feel his cock between your ass and his hand sliding up and down your upper body. His nose then buries on your neck, you can also hear his shaky breaths. His hand then goes up to play with your breasts, groping them and massaging them firmly while his hips start rolling forward; humping you. His tongue licking and biting your neck caused you to moan softly, “sweetheart..?” You moaned, Kirishima stopped his movement and looked at you in the mirror with desperation “y-yes?”.
You bit your lower lip “I know you've been looking at my breasts for a while now. Do you want to touch them?..” you let out a sly laugh “don’t you want your cock between mommy’s tits?..” you moved your hips back to smother your ass on his clothed cock. Kirishima had to think about what you just asked him, it’s new for him since it’s noted to you that he’s a virgin. He just replied with a desperate nod, he moved back and tried staying calm. Kirishima walked to the toilet and put down the seat so he can sit down. The redhead gulped and waiting for what was going to happen— you started to remove your bottoms off in front of him. And since he gets that the scene is getting hot and bothered, he removed his sweatpants and boxers too. You saw his hard cock dangling, and it’s such a sight to see. Your eyes widened in lust, you scoffed “that’s— that’s big for a young man like you..” you laughed. You slowly went on your knees, between his legs, your fingertip taps the head of his cock— in which his cock throbbed in response. “Let me just—“ you licked off the thick pre that’s on his cock, and started to take his cock inside your mouth. “Oh? sweetie, you're even harder than before...” you bit your lip and giggled. You proceeded to slobber all over it and giving him deep throats, all he could do was moan and cover his mouth so he wouldn’t moan THAT loud like he usually does. “There we go! You should be slippery enough for a boobjob now..” you chuckled and continued to put his cock between your breasts, he felt so warm and dizzy. He squirmed “fuck..ma’am I-“ you interrupted him “you can call me mommy, alright sweetie?” You began massaging your breast on his cock, your tits pressing against it. “I-It’s so soft mommy..” you chuckled “better than your hands right?.. “ you giggled seductively, his hips suddenly move on its own— and he starts thrusting softly. He’s losing himself from the feeling of warm flesh wrapped around his shaft. “Whoops..the head is still sticking out,” you said in disappointment “Don’t worry mommy's gonna take care of that for you...” you started licking the tip while he thrusts his cock between your breasts. “fuck— it feels so good..” his breath jumped, he’s trying to enjoying the moment and last longer, but he can’t anymore— it’s just so warm and—
“Oh—!! you really let out a lot. mommy's face is all messy now..” You giggled, the redhead whined while looking at you with his cock twitching for more. You began taking the excess cum off your chest and swallowing it in front of him, “you taste so good..” you smirked. You stood back up and walked to the counter, and hopped on top of the counter, spreading your legs wide for him to look “You wanna eat dessert, sweetie?..”. His eyes are just glued onto your cunt, you can see his cock throbbing at the sight of your cunt. He stood up and moved closer to you, bending down to level with your cunt; he couldn’t help but spit on it, which lead you to yelp. He starts by nibbling on your inner thighs then going straight for your clit; flicking his tongue on it, sucking it, and licking all over it. “M-mommy, please tug my hair..” he begged while looking up at you, you ran your fingers through his hair the pushed him back into your cunt. He grunts and groans while eating you out, and it sends nice vibrations to your core. He’s so much better than your ex, and you’re still surprised that he’s a virgin. You rolled in your hips for him to dig his face and tongue deeper in your cunt, you moaned but still keeping your composure. “Mommy..” Kirishima mumbled on his lips, you pulled his hair back; waiting for his response. “I want to please feel your insides..” he looked up at you with lust, your hand lets go off his hair “go for it sweetheart..” you let out a small chuckle. You felt excited for a young hard cock to go inside you, the empty silence drifted away from the sounds of him entering your damped cunt. His big hands holding your thighs tightly and spreading them, “a-aha.. your pussy is hot a-and tight— how are you so tight..?”. You moved your hips forward to push his cock deeper inside you— your moans started to get out of control; since his cock is so big, you were surprised that you handled it. You wanted more, “w-wait don’t do that— it’ll be embarrassing if I c-came so quickly” Kirishima sure has a big cock, but he just cums so quickly. Which you have no problem with, you want him to cum inside you. The redhead continued to buck his hips forward with a slow and gentle pace. At the same time— it feels so good because the tip of his cock keeps tapping your g-spot. Your hands went on his shoulders then his biceps for support, “you feel so good..” he moaned lightly, then he began picking up the pace. Going for deep and fast thrusts— the tip of his cock now is hitting your cervix, and you felt like his cock was so deep that it was bulging on your stomach already. “Keep it u-up..ngh— you’re making mommy feel so good.” You breathed out, his hand then wanders up your waist to your breasts. He gropes them and pinches your nipples, he leaned in closer to suck your hard nipples. He’s squeezing your tits; hoping that milk will come out somehow, his hips still do a lot of work, moving base deep into your pussy— pounding you like an animal in heat. Your cunt clenched down on him because he bit your nipple and it felt good, he looked at you with his cheeks damped with his saliva, “Oh God— oh fuck, I’m gonna cum…. I’m gonna pull out now, o-okay?” He whimpered with his shaky breath, “s-sweetie, why remove it?..I want you to keep your cock i-inside..” you smirked but it drifted away with a moan. He panicked, he doesn’t wanna risk it— but at the same time he couldn’t control himself any longer “Shit..I don’t know what to do. Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum… I’m cumming mommy!” He tried keeping his voice low as possible while his fingertips dig into your breast. His warm cum shooting inside you so much and gushing out your cunt. You both start to pant, he looked at you in eyes— “I-I’m sorry..for acting like a—“
“Oi Kirishima” the bathroom door bursts open, “lunch is—.......”
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bubbleteaimagines · 3 months ago
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MHA BOYS REACTION WHEN YOU SLAP THEIR ASS
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genre. sfw / crack
warnings. none
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BAKUGOU KATSUKI
Immediately chases after you with his explosions bc he assumes you’re not afraid to die
No seriously, you’re getting your ass handed to you
And you better hope he doesn’t catch you cause Katsuki can hit 10x harder
Yeah your ass will be sore lmao
TODOROKI SHOTO
Kinda just...stands there with wide eyes
Like —
“D-Did you mean to do that Y/N?”
Poor boy is so confused
If he sees you cracking up he just assumes you’re playing a prank on him and goes back to whatever he was doing
KIRISHIMA EIJIRO
Immediately tries to get you back
“Hey—! You can’t just—!”
Playfully wrestles you until he’s got you pinned down
And then he gives booty tap 10x lighter than what you gave him
Cause baby doesn’t wanna hurt you
Let’s face it, you’re lucky cause Kirishima could do some serious damage
DABI
He yelps
Yep, like actually fucking yelps
And then he jumps out of his skin cause wtf?
Immediately glares you when he sees you laughing though
If Dabi catches you then your ass isn’t gonna be able to walk for a week cause he is very strong
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