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mysicklove · 1 year

Note

you ask for a thirst?, I shall deliver. this is something I've thought about but I don't know if it's good enough for a fic.. pro-hero!kirishima, who has a worker (like an assistant, fem!reader) who whenever he does something well (idk defeats a powerful villain, or something along the lines) rewards him by fucking him.

THIS IS SHIT IM SORRY!!

No this is such a good idea. I swear that makes so much sense with his character. I was going to make this a drabble but one thing led to another…

𝐌𝐑. 𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓!

Paring: Sub! Top! Pro-Hero Kirishima x Dom! Bottom! Female! Assistant reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Oral (fem receiving), vaginal penetration, multiple orgasms, teasing lol

A/N: This low-key isn't hot, its more fun and cute. I feel like hot-very serious sex is not Kirishimas thing, but also idk what im talking about. I also head cannon him to have a VERY high stamina so lololol

In the beginning, you would make small positive regards on well he did in battle. As his personal assistant, it wasn't unheard of to praise your boss. But then you slowly became more confident when you noticed how positively he reacted. You switched to running your fingers down his biceps and fluttering your lashes at him, while you called him “big” and “strong.” This was the first time you saw him get hard. You kept it to yourself.

You realized he had a crush on you not long later. Watched him come racing to your desk to tell you about his missions. Watched him squirm and falter whenever you got too close to him. And finally watched his crumble under you when you first sucked him off.

But you have never fucked. He was desperate for it at this point and you hung it over his head. It was adorable watching him slowly get pent-up and frustrated. But he never complained.

So you couldn't help but tease him just a tad.

He races out of his desk when he got the call from Pinky. On his way out he sees you, sitting at your desk sucking on a lollipop. He forces himself to tear his gaze away from your lips, that oh just recently was around him, so that he could continue walking.

You on the other hand, rest your head on your hand and grin up at him, before taking the lollipop out of your mouth. “Make sure to be a good boy and catch that villain, maybe you’ll get a nice reward when you come back,” You call and he froze mid-step to turn back to you.

His face turns red and he brings his hands up to play with his face gear in embarrassment. “What type of reward? Do you mean…Do you really…Wait–Stop it! I have to go! I’ll come back, I promise, please wait for me, I’ll be good!” And with that he quickly runs away from you leaving you with a small smirk, loving the way you make the pro hero flustered.

The villain was hard to catch. Simply for one, his quirk was strong, and two, Eijiro could not stay focused. Your voice and that goddamn lollipop could not leave his head and the idea of reward? It was too much for him.

So, when Dynamite grabs the villain, Eijiro manages to scamper away and sprint back to his office. He ignored the raised eyebrow from Pinky, who is confused due to the fact that he always stays around just to make sure nothing happens. They failed to understand that he has somewhere to be!

He rushes over to his office and sees you sitting on his desk, legs crossed, and playing with his Red Riot nameplate. He tries to calm his rapid breaths from the run, so he doesn’t look too desperate, but it fails, and you smirk at him.

He gulps. He is your boss, why the hell is he getting so flustered around you?

“Cmere Mr. Red Riot,” You purr and he jumps. He loves it when you call him that. The two of you have been working together for a while, and he assured you to call him Kirishima, but now at this very moment, he regrets asking you that. Because why the hell does his hero name sound so sexy when it falls from your lips?

He quickly shuts and locks the door before following your command. He stands in front of you and has to look down to make eye contact with you. He towers over you in this position. “Can I have, uh, have my reward now? The villain…He is in jail.” You begin to run your fingers over his bare chest, slightly glistening with sweat. He shudders.

“Was my strong pro-hero doing a good job protecting the city?” You purr as you trace a circle around one of his nipples.

He nods his head rapidly but winces when you pinch the nub lightly. “Y-Yeah! I was good like you said!”

You smile warmly and he looks away with a small blush. “That's great. Good job. What would you like as a reward? I can schedule you a couple of days off from work–I mean you definitely deserve a vacation”

His eyes snap back toward yours in confusion. He leans forward and rests his head on your shoulder. “Don't tease me. You know what I want,” He whines and you grin.

“I can't read minds. You gotta tell me, Red.” Another nickname he adores so much. Probably even more than Red Riot, due to the fact you used it when you gave him head last time.

“Wanna fuck you.” You giggle lightly at the comment and he blushes even more. Then, he mumbles out, “Please?”

You lean forward and begin to press light kisses on his torso and he sighs. “Take off your clothes, love. Is the door locked?” You murmur and he nods his head. “Good boy.” He looks away with a wobbly smile. Then, he begins to undress.

Now, he stands in front of you, completely bare, contrasting your fully clothed self. He can't bear to look at you, he's too embarrassed. His fists clench at his side, waiting for your command.

You slip off your small cardigan and then shimmy your mini skirt off. He watches eagerly, trying his best to not get too hard. Then, you begin to fake struggle with your buttons and look up at him with a pout. “Do you, um, need help Y/N?”

You smile at him. “Would you?” He gulps but nods. He takes a step closer to you and with shaky fingers he begins to take off your shirt, button by button. He holds his hands on your waist as he stares at your now bare breasts. You weren't wearing a bra. He was hard.

You grab his chin and press your lips to his. He moans into it and kisses you back with such intensity, you have to slightly lean back. You fall backward on his desk and he leans over you, elbows leaning next to your head. You feel his cock brush against your panties and gasp.

He begins to kiss your neck and moves down your body. “Been waiting for this. For so long,” He murmurs against your skin, looking up at you with doe eyes.

“Yeah? Ever since I gave you that blowjob?” He licks your stomach and smiles.

“Ever since the first day you complimented me.”

“So desperate,” You tease and he huffs, gently nipping at the skin beneath him.

“But I didn't say anything! Didnt, want to make you uncomfortable!”

“I know. You're so cute.” He blushes again and falters. It's one of those compliments he can't help but blush at. His whole life he tried to be manly and somehow he is reduced to being “cute” to you. It made him feel strange, but good. “Want you to eat me out, can you do that for me, Red?”

He was buzzing with excitement. He has been waiting patiently for you to allow him to return the favor. “Y-Yeah! Thank you.” You laugh lightly at his politeness.

He tears himself from the desk and kneels in front of your clothed pussy. He grabs the lacey underwear and pulls it down, exposing you completely. He stares at it, admiring it with blown pupils. He doesn't know where to start. His throbbing cock was distracting him. “Taking your sweet time down there aren't ya? Need any help?”

He grips your hips and pulls you forward onto his mouth. You gasp. His arms wrap around the back of your thighs and he traps you in his hold. He laps and suckles like a starved man.

Your head falls back against the desk and you arch your back slightly. One of your hands falls on his red hair and grips it. “Doing so well for me. Making me f-feel so good.” His moans come out muffled.

He begins to hump the air and his eyes begin to water with his lack of air. Drool and other juices begin to drip down his chin and his red eyes don't leave yours. He feels a sense of pride when he watches you come undone. It makes me feel like he is needed.

He unbelievably was messy. The noises that came from below were lewd and if anyone pressed their ear against the door, they would definitely know exactly what was happening. Eijiros flushed and wet face didn't help your case.

“Fuck! Going to cum. Dont, stop!” You moan as your body begins to contract. Eijiro nods against you and whines softly when you tug his hair. He grabs your hips and pressed them even closer to his face and your mouth goes open in a silent moan, and you tremble against him.

When you come down Eijiro doesn't seem to get the hint. In fact, with the added juices he seems to lap at your cunt even harder. “Enough Kirishima.”

He pulls away immediately at the command with a dazed look. Unknown liquids drip from his face and his eyes furrow. “Red,” He reminds and you roll your eyes with a smile, before bracing yourself on your elbows.

“Yeah, yeah. Red. Now tell me Red, do you want me to suck you off or do you want to fuck me?” He sits on his knees and thinks for a minute. You grab a tissue from his desk and lean forward to wipe his drenched mouth. He smiles wide, showing his pointy teeth and you laugh.

“Fuck me.” He sighs dreamily and you hold back a laugh. “I mean you. Fuck you. Not fuck you as in “Fuck you!” like I want to fu–”

“Okay yeah, I got it. Cmere.” He nods his head, ears burning red, and leans back over you. He kisses you again and you can taste yourself. He thrusts his tongue into your mouth with a moan. You feel his throbbing cock on your thigh, so you pull away and glance down.

It's huge. Red and throbbing. Drops of pre drip from it and onto your thigh. When you turn your gaze back to the man in front of you, you hold back a coo. You swear he is giving you puppy dog eyes. “Well? Put it in.”

“I can? For real now?” If he was a puppy, his tail would be wagging frantically. But he wasn't and you were getting impatient.

“Yeah, if you put it in before I dry up.”

“Sorry! Just excited!” You laugh as he lines up his cock, his face bright red. With one quick, but hard thrust, he is in and the two of you moan. His mouth grazes against yours and he looks at you with lidded eyes when he slowly begins to start moving his hips. Your legs wrap around his hips and he sighs.

“Mhmmm feels good,” he mumbles. You nod your head and his hips begin to go quicker and stronger. He pulls himself away from you to stand fully up. He grabs your hips and continues to ram his cock into you. “Been thinking about this forever,” He whines and your smile, and squeeze your eyes shut when he hits that spot.

“Yeah?” You say, knowing he already told you this earlier. It was cute though.

“Yeah! I-I kept thinking about it today. Oh god! Got distracted earlier.” He groans and presses a kiss to your leg. You grip the edge of the desk as your body continues to move up and down on the desk from the force of his thrusts.

You try to stay composed, but it's a lot harder now. “Aw, Pro-Hero couldn't stop thinking about fucking his assistant? You're so lewd, Red Riot. What would the fans think?” He whines and his blush flares at your teasing tone. He loves it. Loves how condescending and pitying you sound, it makes him feel dumb.

He flips you over and your eyes widen as your chest now touches the cool desk. He brings your hips back so that they fall over the edge of the desk and then pushes his body on top of yours, chest to your back. His much larger frame covers you completely as he rests his elbows on the table next to your head so he doesn't crush you. “Can't help it!” He finishes, acting like he didn't just switch positions so rapidly.

Lewd smacks and grunts fill the air and the two of you pant. Eijiro hasn't stopped talking, constantly chanting out praises and whines. His rough pace never slowed down and you have already came. His stamina was unbelievable, you barely could keep up with him.

“Oh no. No no no. I'm going to cum–Not yet! It can't end yet!” Even in your exhausted state, you laugh and then whine.

“S-So dramatic. We can go again love. A-And when you get back from your missions!” The last part comes out shaky and your eyes slightly roll back.

Either from your words or his upcoming orgasm, he was going even faster. “Will you reward me every time? Please, please, please! I'll continue being good, I promise!” He flips you over and you are looking back into his eyes. Desperation leaks from his face, for whatever reason afraid of you saying no.

You shakily reach a handout cup on his cheek, and he leans into your palm immediately. Sweat and lose tears fall from his face and onto yours. “Of course. Now, be good and cum for me, Red.”

He nods his head rapidly and whines into your neck. “I'm cumming. Thank you! Thank you! Oh fuck.” His hips stutter and he cums in you with one last high-pitched moan.

The hero half collapses on you, now only one arm to brace himself up. You pet his head affectionately.

He turns to you, eyes half-lidded and grinning with an after-sex glow. “Round two?”

There is a knock at the door and the two of you freeze. “Mr. Red Riot, you have a meeting in five minutes. Oh and if you see Ms. L/N, please let me know!”

He looks at you with those puppy dog eyes again. “Do I have to go?” He whispers into your neck and you laugh, before pushing his sweaty body off of you.

“Go, you horny bastard.”

“Will I get another reward if I do?” He grins and you pinch the bridge of your nose. He doesn't leave until you agree.

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ratatouillewastakendammit · 1 year

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I just KNOW hawks has the most sensitive wings. Like you grip them? Eyes rolling, head spinning. He would whine so cutely too and then be all blushy about it because he didn't mean to whine like that you just caught him by surprise!! I would LOVE to see a hawks fic with focus on how sensitive those chicken wings of his are 😌😭 bonus points if he subconsciously grinds against whatever he's on top of everytime you play with them. Head. Empty.

This is so canon it's not even funny

Sensative

Pairing: Hawks x reader

Warnings: Smut, feather play?? idek but enjoy

Word Count: 1.7k

The first time was an accident.

It had been a long day, nothing out of the ordinary from Keigo's career as a pro-hero, but long nonetheless.

Over the course of your relationship, you have come to find that the average workday in his employment field was not only physically draining, but mentally as well.

And there were some days when the duties were just extraordinarily taxing, fatigue weighing on even the most durable of mindsets.

So when your boyfriend trudged through the door and met you in the kitchen, slumping into your arms with a short hum to complete the certified routine he had adopted at times like this, it wasn't that much of a surprise.

What was surprising was his reaction to your touch.

The oven sounded and you slipped your arms from under his, offering a quiet laugh at his mumbled protest. You reached to push him away to get to the food in the oven, hand accidentally brushing past the base of his wings instead of that of his back as he moved as well.

Initially, you hadn't really thought much of it.

But just as the tips of your fingers were leaving, you felt it; a slight shiver trailing down his spine, one that would've been left unnoticed if you hadn't been internally complaining about the summer heat moments ago.

You paused, opening your mouth to ask if he was alright when the stove interrupted you once more, stealing your attention and capturing the unanswered inquiry.

So yes, the first time was an accident.

But the second?

Not so much.

You were both settled on his couch, some Food Network channel buzzing in the background. With his arm draped over your shoulder, Keigo's wings encircled your bodies from each side, relaxing in the absence of his work's constant demands.

In your defense, it wasn't as if you had been actively searching for trouble. In fact, you hadn't thought of the occurrence since it happened.

But as your body sunk into his, your mind decided to conjure the memory, luring your line of sight to the red fluff underneath your body.

Without thinking, you reached out and trailed your hand through the scarlet plumage. The feathers rippled in the wake of your touch like a fiery sea. You had never really contemplated how soft and delicate they felt when in their unhardened form, much less how pretty they were.

However, these facts definitely weren't captivating enough to distract you from the way Keigo stiffened next to you.

"You okay?" You asked, surprised at the sudden tenseness.

He nodded, but you knew him well enough to tell that it was distant, almost like he was trying his best to avoid acknowledging it.

Mirroring his actions, you settled back into the faux-leather, silently awaiting for a chance to test your curiosity.

Guy Fieri had come on and was raving about a fried chicken sandwich, efficiently ensnaring Keigo's attention between a potato bun.

Thanks, Guy.

Raising your hand as discreetly as possible, you quickly drew your fingers down the side of his wings, skimming the ends with the tip of your pinky.

And then you heard it.

A whine, so quiet that it would've went unheard if the television's volume was increased a few notches, but heard nonetheless.

Your gaze shot up to his face, which seemed to slowly be taking on the same shade as his feathers. "Did you just-"

"No!" He crossed his arms.

Eyes wide, you attempted to pry them open, crawling on top of his lap like a child that had just discovered some new toy. "Yes, you did!"

Regardless, he held firm, averting his line of sight from yours. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Brows furrowed, you mimicked his closed position for a few seconds before allowing a playful grin to spread over your face. "Alright, let me show you then."

You reached out, but he caught your wrist with expert speed, just centimeters away from your target. With a surprised yelp, you were tugged underneath him with your back on top of the sofa's padding.

Obviously, his quickness wasn't unknown, but the soft tint of pint coating his cheeks definitely was, at least to you. It drew a curious grin on your features.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's embarrassing." He mumbled, jutting out his lower lip.

Moments like this were few and far between, especially with someone possessing a naturally cocky attitude such as Keigo's. As of now, you were giving a valiant attempt to quietly observe the unfamiliar behavior.

But his sulking expression drew a bubble of amusement from your chest. Despite your best efforts, your laughter only grew at the visible tic-mark across his forehead.

"See? You're laughing!" He pawed at your face, trying to quell your snickers in a way that only made it worse.

"I'm not trying to be mean, I promise." Grabbing his hand, you laced it through yours, letting it rest there until your giggles died down. "You're just cute when you pout."

Letting out a huff, he buried his face in your neck. The warmth of his skin against yours wasn't surprising, especially with the reddish hue still coating it.

"'M not cute." He muttered, peppering kisses past your collarbone, bringing another chortle from your lips from the ticklish feeling.

"I think you're very cute, especially now that I know you're so sensitive.."

Leaning back, he offered you an impish grin that had your heart flutter. "You think I'm shy?"

You nodded, letting your hand hang from the back of his neck. "Mhm. I don't think I've ever heard you whine before."

He scoffed. "You caught me off guard. It won't happen again."

Rolling your eyes, you dropped his arm. "I'm sure."

This time, when you reached out, he didn't stop you, allowing your hand to stroke the end top ends of his wings. The gesture did more than usher a quiet shiver, you observed, as he began to roll his hips into yours.

"Shit." You breathed, recognizing the shape of his hard-on pressing against you through his sweatpants.

"You really are such a brat." He let out a low groan when you gripped the outer edges just behind his shoulder blades.

"Arguably one of my best qualities." The statement was meant to be witty, but your tone wavered at the soft tickle of his erection brushing against your clit.

"Oh, definitely." Seeming to have noticed the tiny falter as well, he allowed a mischievous grin to ink across his features. "Gives me an excuse to fuck it out of you."

Keigo slipped a hand under your shirt, continuing to grind down as he began to rub at your breasts. You squirmed underneath his touch, releasing a soft sigh when he rolled your nipple between his fingers.

"Too bad you can't take it like you dish it out, though."

Of course, he didn't mean it. He reveled in the way he made you feel, whether it be the way you would avert your gaze in embarrassment or the not-so-subtle shift in your thighs at his degrading words.

Warmth was beginning to spark in your abdomen and you slowly lips your hips to meet his, an act as unconscious as his own.

Still, the friction wasn't enough, especially with the layers of fabric that were acting as a barrier in the most perturbing way possible. You moved to touch yourself, but he quickly caught your wrist, guiding it upward to grasp the other covert of his wing.

"I got ya, Sweetheart. Just don't stop, yeah?"

You nodded, trying to keep your hold steady even as he snaked a hand under the hem of your shorts, his thumb brushing against your clit.

Two fingers pushed into you, prompting a gasp that had you involuntarily gripping his feathers. He groaned when at the action, the grind of his body into yours increasing in speed.

With one final thrust he pulled away, linking his arms under your thighs to carry you towards the bedroom.

"So dramatic over one little whine." He grumbled, peppering your neck with his mouth.

If you had half a mind left, you would've made some snarky comment about the blush still covering the tips of his cheekbones. However, your conscious thought was already thrown out the window, replaced by physical desperation.

"Doesn't matter." He placed you on the mattress, tugging down your shorts as he fiddled with his own sweatpants. "I'll just have to make sure you do it louder."

He brought his thumb back to your clit, stroking the over-sensitive nub until you were squirming under him.

Gently prying your fingers from the sheets, he led them to grip his wings once more. "Hands up, lovebird."

They were nothing short of magnificent, you realized, fully extended to reach past the ends of the bed. Each scarlet feather seemed so delicate and flawless, hung over the sharp lines of his shoulder blades like a blazing cloak of satin.

The soft squeeze that you issued to them had his eyes rolling back, an act followed by a coarse grown on his part. You weren't even sure he fully realized what he was doing as he bottomed out, drawing a pleasured cry from your throat.

He took a moment before leaning down to allow you more access to the appendages, beginning to thrust into you as your hands trailed out from the muscles of his back.

Placing a kiss against your lips, he continued to fondle your clit, synchronizing the motions he made with each stroke against his wings.

The sounds he brought from the both of you reeked of carnal hunger. They matched his eyes, the bronze of his irises practically glowing in desire.

Similarly to his feathers, you had always subconsciously admired their beauty, especially when they were hazed over, trained on you in adoration and lust.

He leaned down, breath warm against your ear that sent a shiver down your spine.

"We'll see who's the sensitive one."

#was watching triple D when while writing the first half #mha hawks #bnha hawks #hawks x reader #hawks smut #keigo takami x reader #keigo takami #bhna smut #mha smut #bnha #hawks x you #keigo x reader #keigo x you #mha #bnha imagines

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silverynight · 2 months

Text

The nurse and the pro hero

Izuku gets a little bit startled by the chaos outside; by what he can see from behind reception, there are four pro heroes struggling at the other side of the entrance.

He's ready to go out and help, but the head nurse puts a gentle hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"They're not in trouble, we are," she groans. "That's Dynamight right there."

"Oh!" Izuku gets really excited at the mention of the hero name; he's a hero fan boy at heart, even though he decided to go to a medical school. He's a nurse now and very proud of it. "And I think I spot Pinky, Chargebolt and Red Riot as well!"

It must be his lucky day because he works at a hospital for civilians so they don't see pro heroes often unless they're fighting a villain nearby. There's a hospital that specializes in treating pro heroes.

"They are his friends," the head nurse explains. "They always come with him wherever he's being a stubborn idiot," she turns around and curses when she doesn't see any of Izuku's coworkers nearby.

"What is it?"

"Everyone ran away," she sighs, sounding tired already. "Nobody likes that one; he doesn't stay still and always claims to be fine even if he has a broken bone."

"Dynamight?"

"Yeah, that little demon."

"Oh," Izuku mumbles as the four pro heroes finally manage to walk in. Two of them are practically dragging the explosive hero inside.

"I'm sorry, sweetie, but I'm afraid you'll have to assist the doctor this time, because nobody else is going to."

"That's okay!" He assures her.

"LET ME GO, SHITTY HAIR! I TOLD YOU I'M FINE!"

"You're bleeding!" Pinky rolls her eyes, not even worried about the amount of curses that come from that gremlin's mouth. "Sorry to bother you this beautiful night, but the angry pomeranian got himself hurt again."

"I'm Midoriya Izuku, I'll take you to an examination room, just follow me."

However, that's when Dynamight stops struggling completely and stares at Izuku without blinking for a while; Izuku starts getting worried even though the wound on his arm doesn't look serious. It might need a couple of stitches but that's all.

Even Charbebolt and Red Riot look at their friend in shock when they don't feel any type of resistance anymore.

"Are you alright, Dynamight-san?" Izuku asks, waving a hand in front of him. "Did you hit your head at some point?"

"Maybe he's lost too much blood already!" Chargebolt worries.

"I'M FINE!" Dynamight finally blinks and then growls at his friends before shaking them off.

Pinky is the only one who looks relaxed, she seems amused by the situation even.

"Lead the way then," the explosive pro hero tells Izuku and it's the first time the green haired nurse doesn't see him yelling at someone.

When they're inside and Izuku asks the pro hero to sit on the examination table, he starts thinking that maybe all the rumors about his bad behavior are slightly exaggerated. Because the pro hero does exactly as Izuku asks him too.

His friends are looking at him with their jaws dropped.

The doctor walks in while Izuku is cleaning the wound and even she looks a little bit surprised at the sight.

"It seems to be only your arm," she observes, leaning closer to Dynamight.

"I'm done!" Izuku beams, finally stepping away from him, looking happy with the way he patched the pro hero up.

Even though the doctor is still speaking, he can feel the pro hero's eyes on him.

"Thank you, uhh... Midoriya."

The other pro heroes and even the doctor herself look like they're in shock; Red Riot even chokes at Dynamight's words.

"You're welcome!"

"I'm Bakugo Katsuki, but you can call me Katsuki."

Izuku blushes to the tip of his ears, but he shakes his head.

"I'm afraid I can't, we barely know each other. Besides, I'm just your nurse."

It seems like Bakugo is about to argue, but instead he nods, looking like a kicked puppy. Izuku regrets his decision almost immediately.

"I thought he was really nice," he comments out loud to the head nurse when the pro heroes are gone.

"It seems Midoriya tamed the angry pomeranian," the doctor says. "I think he has a crush on our sweet boy."

Izuku's face turns strawberry red, he's sure of it.

"That's not true!" He says at the same time the head nurse says: "It makes sense, that's why he finally shut up as soon as he saw him."

Izuku shakes his head, refusing to believe something as ridiculous as that.

***

Bakugo keeps coming back every time he's hurt; Izuku thinks that maybe he's in charge of that area of the city, but another nurse assures him that's not the case, as he shows him a video on YouTube of him fighting at the other side of the city. The video was live just a couple of hours ago.

But that's ridiculous, why would he go to that hospital then?

"He always asks for you," the head nurse points out, to which Izuku shakes his head again.

Sometimes his friends come with him, although they never try to grab him again because the pro hero walks inside voluntarily each time.

"Your eyes are pretty," Bakugo blurts out once, prompting Izuku to almost drop the tray of medical equipment he was carrying.

"Thank you, Bakugo-san." He mumbles, trying not to sound as flustered as he feels.

"Call me Katsuki."

Izuku tries to focus on his task and inspects the wound on Bakugo's shoulder. Fortunately, it doesn't seem to be broken, and the doctor confirms it a couple of minutes later.

"Your pro hero is here again," now the entire staff calls Bakugo Izuku's pro hero, much to the green haired nurse embarrassment.

They even say that in front of Bakugo once and the pro hero doesn't even blink.

Bakugo doesn't help his case that much either; he starts bringing Izuku coffee, hot chocolate and All Might merch signed by the former pro hero himself once he found out Izuku was an All Might fan.

One of Izuku's coworkers shows him that the people are spreading rumors about Dynamight being in love with someone from that hospital on Twitter because a couple of people have seen him there.

Izuku thinks he saw one of their patients trying to take a picture of the pro hero once, so it makes sense.

"But that doesn't mean it's me."

"Who else, boy?" The head nurse rolls her eyes at him. "Honestly, for someone so brilliant, you can be quite dense sometimes."

Izuku doesn't believe it, but he does give in and starts calling Bakugo 'Kacchan' mostly because he couldn't bring himself to call him Katsuki; it sounds too intimate for him.

But then Katsuki starts using his given name and Izuku can't help but blush every single time he does that.

Katsuki seems to be very pleased by the situation.

***

"Your pro hero is waiting for you in the examination room," the head nurse smirks and Izuku notices that his other coworkers are looking with interest in his direction.

"It's a pleasure to see you again, sweetie," Pinky says, smiling at him as she stops Chargebolt from stepping closer to him. "We said we would wait outside, remember, Kaminari?"

Chargebolt pouts, turns around and right into Red Riot's embrace. The other pro hero gives him a couple of headpats to calm him down.

"I'm sure Bakubro will tell us everything."

Very confused, Izuku decides to step inside the room. However, for the first time Katsuki is in his civilian clothes and he seems to be completely fine.

"What–" That's when he notices the bouquet of cherry blossoms. "Oh."

"Izuku, I'd love for you to take care of me and patch me up for the rest of our lives."

That sounds dangerously close to a–

"What the heck, Blasty?" Pinky's voice is very clear at the other side of the door. "You said you were going to take it slow!"

"AND YOU PROMISED NOT TO EAVESDROP!" Katsuki yells back before staring at Izuku again, this time blushing to the tip of his ears, completely flustered. "I didn't mean to say that out loud, sorry... although I mean it."

"Kacchan!" Izuku blurts out, heart beating inside his chest like crazy.

"Would you like to go on a date with me, Izuku?"

Despite being absolutely nervous, he doesn't hesitate when he whispers, shyly: "I'd love to."

The cheering outside tells him that Pinky wasn't the only one eavesdropping, but Izuku doesn't care because Katsuki is taking him in his arms and kissing him on the lips.

They pull away, panting and blushing only after a couple of knocks at the door.

"Listen, Midoriya, I'm really happy for you, but you better not be making out with your pro hero in there!" The head nurse yells at the other side, prompting Izuku to giggle and Katsuki to smirk.

"I'll see you at the end of my shift, Kacchan."

"I can't wait."

***

Patreon

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #bkdk #bakudeku #bakugou katsuki #izuku midoriya

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hanrinz · 1 year

Text

RUNAWAY PARTY FT. BAKUGOU KATSUKI.

secret bf! bakugou brainrots & after party runaway !! showing you to the world will always be one of the best decisions he have ever made.

content. pro-hero! bakugou, female reader, fluff, kinda ooc. secret relationship! wrote this in an hour and i just can't find it in myself to proofread :(( wc. 1.0k

notes. i luv katsuki sm it hurts, someone give me recs of katsuki fluff. I feel like im dying

running away with katsuki at the after party and trying not to get caught by the paparazzi which proves to be quite impossible, but that doesn't really stop you from doing it. the both of you managed to slip away with your long gown in one hand and your other hand clutching kasuki's.

hastily, climbing his car and driving away from the scene, leaving with a middle finger out for the press to see.

it was exhilarating, it made your heart race, you can hear the blood pumping into your ears.

your giggles are heard throughout the night and his mouth quirks up with a small smile. he looks so handsome in his black-red suit, with his jacket around your shoulders, his cuffs unbutton and rolled up to his arms, showing his muscles. his hands are so pretty on the wheel, as he steps on the gas, driving faster on the road.

feeling the cold air on your skin, your heart warm and fuzzy, as you look at katsuki making you smile so wide, that your cheeks hurt. your managers would definitely throw a fit in the morning, but they didn't matter right now.

all you can care about is you're here with your lover, enjoying your time in the middle of the night, as the moon witnesses your rendezvous.

it all flew like a blur the night itself was to be remembered only by the two of you.

you were awakened by the multiple calls from yours and katsuki's phone, the name of your managers displayed both who had hundreds of miscalls and a few angry texts accompanied with it.

it was 10:45 in the morning. immediately, answering the call, you were hit with a loud nagging voice, "y/n where the fuck are you?"

"m' at home," rubbing your eyes, letting out a yawn indicating you've been disturbed in your sleep. "have you seen the articles? i thought both of you and the company agreed not to be out on the public?!"

you can definitely hear her frustration, you almost feel bad. well, almost.

checking the web for the latest news, your face and katsuki was definitely the first thing that popped up with the words of the news of your relationship.

"THE HERO NYMPHAEA & DYNAMIGHT ARE DATING?"

"HERO AFTER PARTY; SECRET RELATIONSHIP! WHAT HAPPENED YESTERDAY NIGHT?"

"TWO HEROES SPOTTED RUNNING AWAY FROM THE SCENE TOGETHER!"

and so on, the media is having a field day with both of you as the topic. with your manager still ranting and panicking in the background, begging you to at least leave a statement or help her out. you couldn't care less about what the media thinks.

immediately, hanging up the phone cutting up her voice, you could only imagine her fury, definitely not the one you would like to deal with.

but, maybe your idea would ease her worries about the press. opening your camera and propping up in your vanity, snapping a picture of yourself in the mirror in katsuki's well known black skull shirt with his sleeping figure showing a little in the photo. not enough to see his whole face, but enough to recognize that it's the well known hero.

posting the said picture, with a caption 'party afterglow <3' and the minute you upload it, your phone was already blowing up again with people in the comments and likes.

moving to the bed again as you silence your phone and katsuki's, reading some of the comments before you close it.

deku_ i was always right and no one believed me!!!

⤷uravity you didn't tell us tho?!?

red_riot congratulations y/n-san & bakubro!!

⤷chargebolt when will it be my turn?? :((

pinky:3 the fucking audacity! i need all the tea!

⤷ cellophane i fucking knew it!

it has you chuckling, shaking your head as you dip deeper into the covers where bakugou sleeps peacefully. wrapping your hands around his waist, as you nuzzle your face into his chest. his arms coming around you as a reflex as he pulls you closer to him.

his eyes opening slowly, with a groan leaving his lips from the exhaustion from last night, parties have never been his thing. though, it was bearable whenever you were there.

giving you a kiss on the side of your head, following with a small 'good mornin' with his morning raspy voice. you smiled at him and it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, he could get used to waking up beside you. "did you sleep well, angel?"

"mhm," you hummed softly as you traced his face with your hands. "your manager was calling you a while ago, he seems mad 'suki," you snickered.

he huffed, clearly annoyed with his ever loving manager, always up on his ass and whatever shit he was doing. "oh, fuck him" he breathed out and that just makes you laugh more.

and he doesn't give a fuck of whatever his manager concern was, your melodious laughter dying down as you look at him in the eye, uttering the words he would always hear whenever you're alone together,

"love you 'suki," your eyes now glinting with love, as you whispered those words to his face, huddling closer to him. you don't know what you're doing to him, and it's driving him crazy and everything you do just gets him so worked up and it's not even funny anymore.

"i know you do, baby" he knows, and he really did want to say it back to you too, but your cute pouting face whenever you beg him to say it back would be an offer that is hard to pass up, and that is exactly what he did.

"katsuki say it back!" his smirk widened as he hears your pleading voice, you were a little too easy to tease, but he really can't say no to that cute face of yours.

"love ya too, more than you could ever imagine." he says as he leaned in to capture your lips with his.

and it was perfect like how you would always be perfect in his arms, perfectly his and as he was to you.

he was thankful that your relationship doesn't have to be a secret anymore, he can't really stand the press any longer with their fake news, and well.. he can't really stand your relationship being in the dark too.

it was all definitely worth it, because it's you.

likes & reblogs are highly appreciated! i'm gonna cry i suck at writing dialogues <;/3

#bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou imagine #mha fluff #bnha fluff #mha imagine #bnha imagine #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki #roses ‘r rosie

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kingkatsuki · 10 months

Text

More of this.

You know in my mind I was kinda picturing doing Chicken Shop Dates with him and other Pro-Heroes? And Bakugou sees your date/interview with Sero and he’s pouty and jealous because he wants to do one with you.

Bakugou can’t remember the first time he started to fancy you, but it was probably the first time he ever saw you because you’re perfect. He remembers that interview, his first time seeing you. A laid back interview with the Bunny Hero Mirko, the pair of you sat on a plush couch with mugs of tea. And if he’s being honest, the Pro-Hero was the only reason he was even watching in the first place, his childhood crush on the older Pro still prevalent into his mid-twenties.

But he remembered watching the interview, which ended up seeming more like a gossip session between two friends as you delved deeper into the woman behind the Hero name. He found himself watching that video again immediately after it finished, before going in search of others. From up and coming sidekicks, to lesser known Pro-Heroes like Snatch. Bakugou found himself searching through your page for hours as he looked through the videos and photographs with these Pros, frowning when he noticed a new upload with you interviewing the Pro-Hero Cellophane.

Even though Bakugou had been watching your videos for months, he’d never followed you on any of your social media platforms. Content with watching each upload, and religiously checking your page for new photographs or messages. It became almost routine as he’d finish an arduous fifteen hour night shift and immediately check your feeds in the locker rooms before his commute home. Or he’d wake up in the morning to see if you’d posted anything new while he’d been asleep, and in his mind it was almost like waking up with you.

But seeing you interviewing one of his close friends had him feeling almost jealous, even though it seemed to just be meeting in a professional capacity. And Bakugou began to wonder why you’d never wanted to interview him, wondering whether you had contacted his PR team and been rejected or if he was in the pipeline for one. It was that moment when he decided that he was going to follow your socials, and he pathetically hoped you’d notice.

And if you didn’t notice, the internet certainly did. New tweets and screenshots appearing everywhere about the OfficialDynamight Twitter now following your account. Fans speculating whether it was his PR team that had made the connection, or the Pro-Hero himself— but something that everyone seemed to agree on was that an interview with you both was long overdue.

Of course, you’d noticed that the OfficialDynamight account had followed you almost instantly. Checking the notification to see whether it was actually his account, or just another fan-made one. Noticing the blue tick to signal that it was real, it was really him. Trying to calm your racing heart down and convince yourself (like the rest of the internet) that it was just his PR team and not the number two hero. Of course, you’d kept your crush on the Hero mostly secret. Alluding to it in a couple of interviews with Pinky and Burnin’. Interviews that had become a lot more fun and gossipy than the usual news that your company wanted you to report on, ignoring the set questions and talking about love and relationships. But you’d never specifically admitted to your crush, even though the internet continued to speculate.

So when you find out that the Dynamight PR team have responded to you with the approval for your interview request, you’re internally freaking out. Not only because you’re going to be interviewing your favorite Pro-Hero, the man you’ve had a crush on ever since he hit the top fifty. But you have all the pressure on your shoulders to make the interview good, because Dynamight interviews really are like gold dust. And the one thing on your mind is trying to find out is who he has a crush on. Remembering the charity gala interview he did when the little girl asked if he liked anyone.

But you didn’t expect his answer to be you.

#but can you imagine doing chicken shop dates with him🥺#and he’s just laughing at the dumb shit you come up with while eating his chicken and chips #and he’s so casually flirty except he doesn’t even REALISE he’s being flirty??? like it’s just so natural to him #bakugou x reader #soft Bakugou

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arachine · 1 year

Text

. . . tender wounds & soft kisses (won't you stay?) ; i. midoriya

── ˚₊✩‧₊ synopsis :: trouble comes knocking on your doorstep seeking salvation. the question is, do you answer it?

── ˚₊✩‧₊ general tags :: pro!hero au, angst, fluff

── ˚₊✩‧₊ content warnings :: fem!reader, mentions of blood + death but nothing explicit, reader patches his wounds, intense feelings, making out, 3k words

── ˚₊✩‧₊ notes :: part one of two (?) of a future mini series :3 next part will include filth pinky promise !

it doesn’t matter how many times he shows up at your door like this—battered and bruised, that is. you’ll never get used to it. you want to turn him away, to tell him he’d have better luck going to a hospital—but—it’s half past midnight, and it’s cold, and it’s raining, and…he doesn’t know where else to go.

he knows you’re tired. can see it in the way you lean your head against the door frame, and the way you blink up at him with indifference, as if your eyes are telling him “come in now or i’ll leave you out in the cold”.

with an appreciative smile, he enters through the door and brushes past you. takes his heavy, muddy boots off, one by one, and leaves them to sit in the foyer where they contrast starkly against your pristine-perfect ones.

it’s a sight that’s starting to become all too familiar to you. sometimes it looks like there’s another person living here, like there’s someone to share the space with, but you know his presence is only ephemeral. you’d wish it weren’t, though. especially since he already knew the floor plan of your apartment like the back of his hand.

even in the pitch-black dark, his steps are confident. calculated. familiar. he dredges down the corridor with impressive precision, and yields absolutely no qualms of bumping into your many awkwardly placed pieces of furniture. doesn’t even trip over the new coffee table you recently purchased. because instead of him doing the bumping and tripping, you do.

izuku comes to a sudden standstill in the middle of the living room, and you walk right into his back, knocking him forward a bit from the force.

“what’s wrong?” you question, trying not to let yourself sound too concerned, but it comes out more tender than anything. he breathes out a quick nothing, and continues the trek to your bathroom, wincing through gritted teeth while clutching his side.

if he’s in pain, he won’t say it. which is another reason why you’ve come to resent his spontaneous fix-me-up visits. impatiently, you side step by him and rush to the bathroom. turn on the light and stand at the door frame with your arms crossed over your chest, like you were practically urging him to quicken his pace so he could be out of here faster.

but he takes his time. because despite the sharp-ache in his ribs, and the sting above his brow, he gets to see you. izuku midoriya gets to be touched by you. to be cleaned by you. patched up by you. sinewy muscles and bruised flesh, all taken care of by—you.

so, yeah. he takes his sweet time getting to the bathroom—even if he’s five steps from getting there. he’ll make it ten. anything to make this last longer.

“come on, i’m tired,” you say, turning on your heels to open the cabinet. “i’d like to get back into my comfy bed as soon as possible.”

when you take a look inside the cabinet, you frown at the shortage of supplies you’re met with. which, honestly, shouldn’t even really surprise you—considering he was the one responsible for its barren state.

regardless, you pluck what you can of what’s left, then set them down on the counter in the order of which you’ll use them: clean rag, soap, ointment, steri-strips, and gauze (in case there’s a bigger wound somewhere under his tattered clothes).

from your peripheral, you can see his silhouette appear from out of the darkness, and you watch intently through the mirror as his now fully-illuminated body trudges behind you. god, he looks worse than he did standing under the light of your front porch.

well, that’s what you think. prior, a good portion of his face had been enshrouded by night, so you couldn’t really make out anything worth noting—even if you wanted to, at least.

but now you bear witness to the hues of red that dance across his face; both from the inflamed capillaries underneath his skin, and the blood ribboning down the gash above his brow.

“you know the drill.” your gaze is pointed, and you eye him through the mirror while dousing the rag under the warm running water.

he comes to a halt in front of the toilet, grimacing once, then clutches his side protectively before bending down to sit. you note that too.

“so…” a beat. “you gonna need help taking that off? or—“

“i’ve got it,” the green haired boy quips, moving to retract his arm from his side.

you throw your hands up in defeat, and reposition yourself to lean against the sink’s ledge. your eyes trace every movement, and you watch amusedly as he pathetically struggles to remove his gloves, but eventually achieves.

next, he attempts to tackle his zipper. a grimace. then, he attempts it again, only to withdraw in pain.

“let me do it,” impatience on the tip of your tongue. you lunge forward to unzip the damn thing yourself because you can’t bear to watch any longer, small hand swatting his much larger one away.

dropping to your knees, you sit between his legs and zip it down until the entirety of his torso is revealed. a solemn frown settles on your lips, and it takes everything in you to not shed a tear.

gathering your wits, you continue undressing him, gently pulling each arm from its consecutive sleeve, before moving to unclasp the mask tugged down his neck.

“i hate when you do that,” your voice speaks up, replacing the unpleasant silence. there’s evident irritation laced in it, and he can’t help but to wince from the way it pulls his heart strings.

“when i do what?” you take a brief moment before answering him. busy yourself with the loose thread hanging on the side of his leg pant, tug on it until you snap it off. “when you pretend you’re not in pain.”

izuku sighs through his nose, something long and heavy. “i’m sorry,” he attempts at an apology, though he knows he’d have better luck convincing someone else who wasn’t accustomed to seeing him like this.

“no you’re not, otherwise you’d stop waking me up in the middle of the night to tend to your wounds.” there it is. that venomous tongue of yours, the one that doesn’t hold back in telling him what he needs to hear. he can’t even counter it—so he takes it. leans back into the cool porcelain of the tank, and watches as you walk away to the sink, only to return with a stool and rag in tow.

for a minute, you mull over which area of skin to tackle first, until you decide on prioritizing his torso. you take the damp rag and run it along the perimeter of his wound where there’s a culmination of dried blood and fresh red. his abs flex in response to the sensation, a sharp intake of breath.

“sorry,” you mutter without looking at him, eyes focused and hands working diligently between swipes.

“nope, ‘m fine.”

“liar.”

“yeah,” he breathes.

“how’d you get this one, huh? oh, wait, let me guess. off doing god knows what, at god knows where, chasing after some guy you’re not even authorized to be chasing.”

you rise up from your seat to dispose of the rag, grabbing the remaining items on the counter. “did i get any of that right?”

izuku laughs, a small admittance. “i don’t think i’m at liberty to say.”

scoffing, you plop back down in front of him, and carefully, begin cleaning the inside of the wound with a damp piece of gauze. every now and then, you check his face to gauge for any pain, but his relaxed expression is unfaltering. because he’s looking down at you with so much warmth it’s scalding.

his gaze feels like a thousand little pricks, makes you shiver from the intensity, and you silently pray he doesn’t catch it. though, it’s really wishful thinking on your part. he noticed most things, was just in his nature.

“what are you looking at?” all bite. his eyes shift from your face to the tiled floor. suddenly, the grout was starting too look interesting, in fact, when’s the last time you touched it u—

“n-nothing,” he stutters, warmth spreading across his face to the tips of his ears.

“so weird…” your eyes flit up once, before refocusing on covering the wound in clean, dry gauze.

in juxtaposition to your jagged edged words, you’re so gentle. delicate in everything you do, but especially so, when you’re handling him. it’s something that he’s come to find massively endearing, and he hates that the only time he’s a recipient of your attentiveness, is when he shows up at your door all bloodied and bruised.

“shit, uh, can you hold this in place for a second? gonna get some tape.”

izuku nods in compliance. follows with trained eyes as your frame disappears into the dark. then, the sound of a flicker follows suit shortly after, and the light—from what he presumes to be your room—illuminates the rest of the hallway.

in the distance, he can hear the soft thud of feet padding back and forth between rooms, and can just about isolate the cacophonous sound of drawers opening and closing, along with muttered obscenities.

the impending sound of footsteps announces your return, and you take your seat between his legs, this time with a roll of tape in tow.

“and,” you drawl, “done. now let me look at that nasty gash on your face.”

he scoots closer to the edge to give you a better look, and the pair of your knees knock together. neither of you acknowledge it, nor do you make an effort to move. the proximity has him reeling, but you seemingly remain indifferent.

reaching up, you take hold of his chin and maneuver him intermittently as you prod and poke at the open flesh. suddenly, a feeling of sadness washes over you upon the realization that one day he might not even make it to your doorstep. that maybe this will be the last time you hold his beautiful face in your hands. that this will be the last time those kind, green eyes look up at you. the reality of the situation is that every day may very well be his last.

when you stop your ministrations, he knows something’s up. “what is it? what’s wrong?” the intonation in his voice rising, displaying the sincerity of his concern. a calloused hand finds solace on the side of your cheek, and you careen into its warmth.

“i don’t…i don’t know how many times i can keep seeing you like this,” you admit, voice straining at the effort it takes to quell your tears.

izuku brings a second hand up to your face, cradles it in his calloused palms. swipes his thumbs soothingly over the apples of your cheeks and shushes you before a sob can erupt from your throat.

“nonono, don’t get yourself all upset over me.”

“how can i not ‘zu?!”

“‘cause ‘m not worth it,” he spits, and it almost scares you how much he believes in the veracity of his statement.

“‘not worth it’…” you repeat, “if you weren’t worth it, i wouldn’t let you keep coming back into my house. i wouldn’t patch you up…wouldn’t let you keep making me feel like this.”

“i’m sor—“

“don’t you fucking dare say sorry,” you get up abruptly, releasing yourself from his grasp. “god, you make me—you make me fucking crazy! can’t you see?” your hands go to reach the ledge of the sink, and you rock back and forth on anxious heels.

forgetting the ache in his side, the pro-hero rises to his feet. he lets his weakened legs drag him to where you stand. your head is down, and your arms are out-stretched to support your weight. he can’t see your face, but he hears the beginnings of a sob.

thoughts race through his mind a mile a minute. what should i do? he thinks. how can he console you? should he touch you? hold you? but what if you don’t want to be touched? he racks his brain for an answer, to no avail.

for a while, he just stands there—because in the short distance he traveled, he didn’t really think of a plan. just acted on impulse. but then he sees a big cartoonish teardrop land on the counter and he loses it.

unthinking, the greenette takes you into his hold. slots himself behind you like a puzzle piece and wraps you up, one arm across your chest, and the other over your middle. the sudden contact surprises you, but you make no contests. instead, you find yourself relaxing into his grip, and he takes that as a silent confirmation to squeeze you further into his embrace.

“don’t cry,” izuku whispers into the interstice of your neck, “can’t bear it. don’t like it.” you raise your head to lay against his chest, and wrap your fingers around his forearm. his body radiates a warmth that you find wildly comforting. it’s intoxicating, almost. and now that you’ve had a taste of it, you’re not quite sure you’d be able to let go.

but while the feeling is nice, it’s also equal parts scary and debilitating. because you weren’t a couple. you weren’t temporary lovers. you weren’t…anything, and yet—you fit like one. and that was scary. terrifying.

it scared you how much space this person took up in your life; how little he gave in return, and how much of your heart belonged to him. and the worst part of it all? how scared he was to trust you with a scintilla of his. of all the years you’ve known izuku midoriya, this is the coldest you’ve known him to be.

“alright, i’m better now. you can let go,” you speak, though the words that escape your lips directly conflict with what you really feel.

don’t let go. don’t let go. hold me a little longer, please.

reluctantly, the bigger man releases you from his firm grasp. he holds your gaze through the mirror, waits for you to start the conversation—which your eyes seem to have already started, because he swears that right now, they’re singing a song of sorrow.

“be honest with me, please. don’t you think i deserve that much?”

suddenly, the pain in his ribs throbs. his forehead falls to rest on your shoulder. he’s stalling. biding his time so that he can come up with an answer.

“of course you do, you deserve the truth and so much more. but…”

“but,” you repeat plainly, because of course there’s a but.

“—but there’s things that i just can’t tell you. and i know it sucks, and i know it sounds like a bunch of bullshit, but if something were to ever happen to you because of the information you knew, i literally wouldn’t be able to live with myself.” the words flow from his lips hurriedly, like if he doesn’t get it all out now, they’ll detonate inside of him.

“you gotta just give me this, please, baby.”

baby.

babybabybaby. he called you…baby. your eyes widen like saucers at the pet name, and then it dawns on him that he let it slip through a fit of passion.

“baby? uh, pft, i meant…” he tries to recant the part in his spiel that he let slip out, nervously scratching the back of his freckled neck.

“i hate you.” a lie. but it sounds right to say, even though there’s no real weight behind it. still, how dare he? how dare he make you go years thinking your feelings were unrequited? how dare he fucking steal your heart again with one little word, two syllables, and four letters?

izuku smirks. if you had uttered these words to him when he was still young and unsure of himself, he’d believe you. but he doesn’t—because he knows you. knows that your venomous tongue lacks potency. and he knows that your heart is reserved for him, always has been—even if his negligence almost cost him you.

“you don’t,” he says matter-of-factly, viridian irises soft, staring back at you.

“i do.” unceremoniously, two large hands grab your waist. they turn you around with uncharacteristic speed, pin you against the sink and leave you with no exit. a gasp bubbles in your throat.

“okay, then say it to my face, “ izuku leans forward, strong arms encasing you between his chest and the sink he holds. his neck tilts downward so that he’s looking into your eyes, and god, he’s so big. so imposing, takes up too much space. too much.

“tell me you hate me, and i’ll stop doing…this. i’ll get out of your hair for good.”

any and all semblance of composure you had up until that point, dissipates into thin air right then and there. your eyes squint into slits because he fucking proved you right. you were too much of a coward to say it, but on the off-chance that you did, he’d see right through you. one thing you hate more than being proven wrong, is feeling like you have no control over things.

things like izuku. he made your head all foggy with just a glance, and your stomach knotted up with an utter of your name. but this? god, you couldn’t handle this. the proximity, the intimacy of your rather compromising position, the intensity of his gaze, or the way his breath kissed the curve of your jaw. he was everywhere, all the time. omnipotent.

“you’re right,” you admit with a huff, acquiescing to his boyish-grin. your admission has him lurching forward, inching closer, and closer to the pair of roseate lips pouting up at him so prettily (that they might as well be an open invitation for him to kiss you).

“i’m right.”

you find yourself initiating a game of cat and mouse. every time he moves in, you move out. it’s so silly. makes you feel like a love-sick school girl waiting by the lockers to give her crush a handwritten note. but you’re relishing in it; and so is he, admittedly more so than you.

with every passing second, you become less and less aware of your surroundings. all you know is that your lips are moving in tandem, hovering over the other, open-mouthed and panting. you want him. you want to taste him, to bite him, to give him another wound that will turn into a pretty pearl-grey scar amongst the rest.

your desire for him is carnal, but you play this little game like time is infinite. and you suppose, time can be anything you want it to be when you’re encased between his body.

just as he’s about to close the gap, you whisper a plea into his ear. “promise me,” your voice is breathy, wanting, but still firm. his lips dip down to your neck, and he places a hot, open-mouthed kiss into the divot of your clavicle. trails upwards as he pops up to answer you.

“i’ll promise you a hundred things, i’ll - i’ll promise you whatever you want.”

“promise me you’ll start being careful,” you say breathless, “that i won’t see your name as a headline on the news.”

“i promise,” he delves back into your neck, repeating it like a mantra along the vein of your jugular until he kisses his way up to your lips. there’s a brief pause initiated by you when your hand pushes back his chest.

a look of confusion overtakes his features, and you’re looking at him with nervous eyes. are we really about to do this? they say. are we really about to cross that threshold? like you haven’t already done that and more within the span of ten minutes. but you need the reassurance, to be told that everything after this will be okay.

yes, his say. it’s fine. you can trust me.

you felt again the rush of helplessness, the push and pull of the current; until, finally, you let it sink you. he kisses you gently, delicately, then with a swift gradation of intensity that has you whimpering into his mouth.

“hate you,” a kiss, “for making me,” another, “wait so - mmf - long,” you try to speak between clashes of teeth and tongue, smoothing your arms up his exposed chest before encircling them around his neck.

“i know, baby, i’m terrible,” he breaks away to suckle your neck, “i’m the worst.”

“the worst,” you agree. suddenly, you start to understand why people say kissing is like melting, because every part of your body he touches, has you dissolving rapidly into sea-foam. you’re so hot and bothered, you don’t even know what to do with your hands.

they were around his neck at some point, but now they’re roaming freely. over his chest, his biceps, down his back, in his hair—on his face. maybe you’ve traveled too far, because the sound it elicits from him is teetering the border between pain and pleasure.

“sorry, did i do that?” you gesture to his brow, which he shields protectively.

“just a scratch, i can take it,” he reassures, attempting to resume his assault on your collar bone. you grab hold of his chin, redirecting him to look at you.

“just a scratch, huh? well, you’re lucky you got away with just a ‘scratch’.”

#:: — LEXI WRITES !#exposure tags >>>#bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki smut #izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #izuku midoriya smut #deku x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x reader smut #mha x reader #mha x reader smut

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mysteriesmuse · 1 year

Text

Don’t Touch Anything

thinking abt Katsuki’s bae getting their nails done

you’ve had a long week and so you’ve decided to go treat yourself and go get your nails done. Katsuki thinks this is a good little get away and reprieve for you from your college classes. - he’s already thinking in the happy wife, happy life mindset.

being a new sidekick in the pro hero business he already makes a pretty decent salary, definitely way more than your little tutoring job through the uni.

so Bakugous decided to pay for your nails himself. he just wired it directly into your account. No asking, or anything. He. Just. Does. It. 👏 it’ll make you happy and it makes him feel good for doing that for you. ———

But Katsuki didn’t realize how hard it would be for you to do everything now. As soon as you get home it’s like your hands suddenly don’t work. I mean, yeah, he has to open up a jar of jelly for you. THATS NORMAL

but as the day goes on you’re struggling to do everything. you’re using him or Siri to type out messages to all your friends. and he’s just wondering HOW OFTEN DO YOU EARPHONES AND PONYTAIL TALK??!

Got him leaning into your shoulder, hair tickling your collarbone before his dandelion looking head pops up, staring at Jirou’s message in the group chat with wide eyes. “oi babe. Can I go to this concert with you?” “mhmm if you wanna. Text Jirou.” his tongues sticking out as he types out his own message to your friends dynamite fast.

—— that afternoon he notes that your studying is punctuated by lots of curses and the sound of a pen clattering to the floor every few minutes.

Katsuki keeps his fists in his pockets as he routinely walks past your room to glance at your fine ass leaning to grab your pen. But the way you’re careening off to the side about to topple to the floor, has his hero instincts itching and his hands twitching. Idiot, always making his damn heart race. —— Katsuki also can’t help but snicker as you walk around the house tapping your nails on everything. “ahem babe I’m on a meeting right now”

seriously you’re not even trying to resist the asmr

———— But there’s also PERKS

katsuki is enamored with your bright smile as you look down at your nails. AND your wild hand gestures have also only gotten more dramatic!! Katsuki Bakugou in love with a little lady doing jazz hands. . . . his family and friends would have Never thought it

He is also lovin’ the way you keep posing with your hands on your insta. you got him beaming down at your account on patrol and at work. The coffee cup photos, the touching the barrettes, the golden hour pics with the hand splayed on the exposed collarbones. (Which he takes for you.) The photos you drag him into: grabbing his chin to press a chin onto the apple of his cheek, linking pinkies, making those ridiculous heart hands 🫶 that you and every other girl on the planet is obsessed with.

Got him shocked at the new way you walk past him, tapping across the tables and countertops. and before you breeze past him you comb your fingers through his hair.

HE NEEDS MORE and when Katsuki gets what he wants he’ll inclines his head and let out a hum that vibrates through the air particles between y’all. makes him moan and groan. and all the tension in his muscles melt away as he sinks into you. The tip of his nose nuzzling the inside of your breast as a warm sigh fans over your skin.

. . . so yeah he’s definitely going to let you get your nails done again

#mha fanfiction #katsuki bakugo imagine #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou headcanons #katsuki imagine #bakugou #bakugou fluff #bakugou x reader #something about typing is impossible with acrylics 😩😭😂#sorry for the bad quality #I couldn’t bother to write coherently this time

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lightseoul · 1 year

Text

asymptōtos

synopsis. you needed him to meet you halfway. he couldn't.

cw. fem!reader, student-turned-worker!reader, busy prohero!katsuki, aged-up (~22 yrs old), established relationship, fluff, hurt/(may or may not have) comfort

word count. 5.8k words

The first time it happens, it leaves you more in a state of awe and adoration than worry and disappointment.

In your defense, you never thought you’d end up dating anyone in college, let alone during your very busy senior year marred by senioritis and thesis woes, but the universe decided it has other plans for you.

And so here you are, on your first date with the #2 Pro Hero, no less.

Of course, credit must be given where it is due. All of this wouldn’t have happened without the notorious meddler and your elementary best friend Ashido Mina, who took it upon herself to be Bakugou’s wing-woman during her housewarming party two weeks ago.

Not only did she serve as the pesky glue that resisted all of your attempts to stray away from Bakugou’s immediate circle, but she also later on confessed to having begged him not to delete your number that she not-so-sneakily saved in the man’s phone.

You got so embarrassed when you received your first text from him, imagining him being held at gunpoint by Mina just to send the darned message. You contemplated not replying to save the poor guy but decided against it. You’re glad you did, though, because he ended up surprising you with his responsiveness and consistency, resulting in daily texts until he finally asked you out on a date.

In a very roundabout way, too:

Maybe we can find out what the hell your problem is over dinner sometime.

Which brings you to the present, post-said dinner, seated on one of the benches in a park you’ve never heard of until now, admiring the view.

“I’ve never done this before.”

Your head whips to look at Bakugou, surprised at his sudden statement. Things have been silent since you left the sushi restaurant.

Well, until now.

“What—go out on a date?” you joke, meaning to lighten the mood.

At that, he visibly reddens, and looks away.

“Dumbass,” he mutters under his breath.

Shit.

“I’m sorry,” you start, “I just thought—you being you—you’d have far more experience than I have.”

You can see him hesitating before looking you right in the eyes, “Wow.”

“What?”

He shrugs, “This is the first time someone’s referred to my being ‘me’ as a compliment.”

“Really?”

He merely gives you a firm nod. You can tell he’s trying to be cool about it, despite how much vulnerability this topic is requiring out of him.

You sigh, shaking your head, “Well, that’s bullshit.”

His voice is quiet when he replies. “...Ya think so?”

“Yeah,” you smile at him, “I mean, I like you. Being Bakugou Katsuki should make you proud.”

You don’t realize the carelessness of your comment until you see his eyes widen in shock. Yours follow suit upon realization, “I mean–”

“Yeah–”

“I didn’t–”

He interrupts, “Don’t worry. I get what ya mean.”

You could only stare at each other in astonishment until you look away in embarrassment.

Fuck.

You’re about to change the subject in the hopes of clearing the air and replacing the awkward silence that has befallen the two of you when you feel a feather of a touch graze your pinky.

You hold your breath in anticipation—willing your palm’s sweat glands to magically close in case Bakugou’s making a move to hold your hand—but that’s when it happens.

A piercing wail echoes throughout the park, and you both rip your hands away from each other.

Embarrassed (Bakugou), confused (you), and alarmed (both), you whip your heads towards the source, only to find a crying kid and who seems to be his father crouched down, frantically shushing him.

You narrow your eyes, trying to figure out what’s the matter from your spot on the bench.

“Kid’s dumb cat got stuck in that tree,” Bakugou points with his right hand, and sure enough, an orange Tabby cat is perched comfortably on the sakura tree near where the kid and his father are standing.

How he managed to figure out the problem in a millisecond is beyond you, but you couldn’t spare a single moment to marvel at his hero senses because Bakugou’s now standing up, palms cracking with mini-explosions.

He sighs heavily, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was annoyed.

Whatever scowl he might’ve had on his face is schooled into a neutral expression when he turns back to tell you to give him a second.

You nod, too stunned to speak, and the explosions on his palms begin to heighten in degree. He starts toward the direction of the civilians, before hesitating in his steps.

“What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head, back still turned towards you.

“...For the record,” he looks up to the cat still balanced expertly on the tree’s branches, possibly to avoid your gaze for what he’s about to say next.

“I like you, too.”

The second time it happens…is a bit different. It wasn’t like you weren’t aware this sort of thing was coming. On the contrary, you anticipated it, knowing full well what you were getting yourself into the moment you agreed to become Bakugou’s girlfriend.

But expecting and dress-rehearsing for pain doesn’t make it any less wounding once the actual thing does roll around.

It was your graduation day, and everything was going swimmingly. Bakugou got to officially introduce himself as your boyfriend to your parents while you were waiting for the ceremony to begin.

He didn’t want to admit it, but just by his body language alone, you could tell he was fucking nervous.

(Later on, during dinner, he’d whisper to you how he barely got any sleep the night before. Who was the one graduating between the two of you, again?)

Your parents’ reception of him was favorable, thanks to the briefer you gave them about his media presence not at all being an accurate depiction of the real thing. Your father tossed you a somewhat withering look after the encounter, but you chose to let it go. You weren’t going to let anyone rain on your parade today.

By all accounts, everything was going great. At the end of the program, everyone who you wanted to be present was there congratulating you, giving you bouquets of flowers, and taking pictures for remembrance’s sake.

After bidding goodbye to your college peers, you then headed to your favorite high-end restaurant to celebrate, where you sit now, listening in amusement as Bakugou gets grilled by your family and friends.

“So, Bakugou-san,” your mother continues, “what do you like about our Y/N?”

“Mom!”

Needless to say, you didn’t expect to be dragged into the grilling session.

Your mother only looks at you like you’re the one who’s lost your marbles. To your left, you can hear Bakugou snicker under his breath. You elbow his side in retaliation.

“What? You can’t expect me not to ask him that.”

“Yeah,” your cousin chimes in from the end of the elongated table, “we’re curious.”

You glare at her, “Shut it, C/N.”

“Y/N!,” your mother exclaims, “Don’t be rude.”

You could only pout in response while Bakugou clears his throat beside you, and you find yourself anticipating his response despite the circumstances.

“Well, she’s the most caring person I know,” he eyes you, and you can’t help but look away, feeling bashful under his gaze. “And is incredibly sharp, and she makes me feel understood and appreciated.”

Squeals and cheers erupt from the table, and you laugh in embarrassment at his words and everyone else’s reactions.

Bakugou pinches your thigh to catch your attention, “What?”

You snort, “You’re so cheesy.”

He smirks, “Says the one blushing.”

You don’t have the heart to tell him he’s sporting redness on his cheeks the same way he’s saying you are. You can’t help but grin in response.

The noise dies down upon hearing your father clear his throat, “Bakugou-san, what do you do for a living, again?”

You internally roll your eyes. On the outside, though, you look at Bakugou, who straightens his posture at your father’s questioning.

“I’m a Pro Hero, sir.”

Your father hums in acknowledgment, “You’re Pro Hero…Dynamight?”

“Yes, sir.”

Everyone’s silent as you watch the tense conversation unfold before you.

“You face a lot of danger in your line of work, then?”

Bakugou remains unwavering as he goes through the kind of questioning that would otherwise annoy him, “Yes, sir. But we’ve undergone extensive training and immersions to be able to handle them accordingly.”

This time, your father only grunts in reply, returning to his plate of Grilled Akita Beef Sirloin as if he hadn’t just interrogated a guy. In the corner of your eye, you see Bakugou deflate, from relief or disappointment, you can’t tell.

“Anyway, Bakugou-san,” your mother interjects in an attempt to salvage the conversation, “what’s it like having a job of a Pro Hero? Nobody in our family took that career path, you see.”

“Well, I—”

He barely gets two words out when All Might’s voice comes booming throughout the entire restaurant, and you see Bakugou lose his cool and scramble for his phone to turn it off. Everyone’s eyes are bugged out, probably reeling from the fact that the #2 Pro Hero has such a corny ringtone.

“Sorry,” he blurts out. You chance a peek at the caller ID, which reads ‘Deku’, and you look up to see the frustration in Bakugou’s eyes.

Despite yourself, a sense of worry settles in your stomach. Midoriya never calls Bakugou unless it’s something important, and he’d already been informed about Bakugou being MIA for tonight. Surely he’s not calling for nothing…

“Who was that?” Your mother asks.

Bakugou presses the lock button on his phone and pockets it. “Sorry—it was just a colleague,” he frowns, “I don’t know why they’re contacting me, I already filed a leave for today.”

“Well, if it’s nothing important, I guess we–”

The ringtone, once again, floods the entire room, but this time you urge him to take it as he tosses you and everyone else an apologetic look.

“Sorry. Please excuse me.”

With that, he stands up and heads towards the corner of the restaurant, leaving you with the rest of your family and friends in silence.

“He seems nice,” your cousin offers, and you shoot them a look of gratitude.

“Are you sure about him, Y/N?” your other cousin asks, and you can’t help but freeze upon hearing the question. “Dating a Pro Hero doesn’t seem like easy business.”

“I bet it isn’t,” your father adds gruffly.

You’re about to spit out the best defense in history when Bakugou rushes toward your side, although he doesn’t sit back down. You brace yourself for what’s about to come next.

“That was Pro Hero Deku—there’s been a sighting in the Chofu district of this high-profile villain we’ve been tracking down for weeks,” he fixes his gaze onto you, “And they need both top heroes on the field, ASAP.”

You spring onto your feet with no hesitation, “Okay, but be careful, Katsuki.”

He nods, “Of course.”

With that, he faces everyone else and bows, “I apologize for having to leave early. I hope you enjoy the rest of your meal.”

He doesn’t wait for their responses, attention now shifted back to you.

“Congratulations again, Y/N. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, forcing a smile on your face in the hopes of easing his worries. He bends down to kiss your forehead, shooting you an apologetic look before excusing himself for the last time and heading for the exit.

You hold onto that congenial smile plastered across your face as your eyes trace his disappearing figure. Once he’s gone, you go back to your seat and will yourself to meet the eyes of those around you.

You see the all-too-familiar worried look on your mother’s face, while your cousins and friends have their eyes down on their plates. Your father, on the other hand, has the same withering look he’s been wearing around you and Bakugou the entire day.

“I bet it isn’t,” your father mutters under his breath, but you heard him clearly.

The third time it happens, it hits closer to home than you expect it to.

After a flurry of important firsts with Bakugou, as well as major life changes that have gotten you breaking down more often than you’d like to admit, your birthday finally rolls around.

As you’ve gotten older, birthdays have indubitably become more mundane. Nevertheless, you went ahead and took the day off of your new job as recruitment personnel in Mirko’s agency, not to celebrate it in crazy ways but in the hopes of spending the entirety of it at home with Bakugou.

Ever since you landed your first job, time spent with your boyfriend has become more and more negligible, with schedule conflicts and inflexibilities of work commitments barring you from seeing each other.

Today was no different.

You wake up to the scent of Bakugou and his citrus body soap, who, as per your request, spent the night prior in your apartment. When you reach out to his side of the bed, though, you’re met with cold emptiness, and your heart sinks in disappointment upon the realization that he’d left.

You at least wanted a good morning kiss for your birthday.

Half awake and reaching blindly for your phone, you bring it up to eye level and check your messages.

It’s only 9:07 AM and your inbox is already flooded with greetings, but none of them is Bakugou’s. Instead, the one text message from him reads:

Hey. Sorry I had to leave early, got some agency-wide meeting Shitty-hair and I are presiding today or something. See you when I get home.

Despite yourself, you deflate at his lack of acknowledgment of your birthday. You shake your head, feeling the ugly emotion of hurt creeping up your spine. Instead, you choose to focus on the fact that he just called your apartment home. Besides, he’s probably just busy right now, you think to yourself. He’ll remember later.

He didn’t remember.

At least, as of 11:45 PM, he hasn’t.

You were still optimistic about things when the day started, going around the house—cleaning to soothe your racing mind, as well as opening the gifts your friends and family had sent to your apartment. By the time lunch rolled around, you had food delivered from your favorite restaurant, which you happily devoured while rewatching a comfort film.

Now and then, you’d thumb at your phone to check if Bakugou’s messaged you a greeting or an update, only to be met with messages and notifications that were the least of your concern.

You lost count of how many times you’ve sighed in discontent, restless for the moment he comes home and proves to you that he absolutely, positively, certainly, hasn’t forgotten.

But before you know it, it’s already 11:45 PM and he still hasn’t walked through your doorway—the last you’ve heard of him being the one text message he left you this morning.

You’re staring blankly at the dinner you’ve prepared for the two of you, devoid of any more expectations, when the door finally clicks open at 11:47 PM and he stumbles in, decked out in his hero costume and visibly exhausted.

“Oh, you’re still awake.”

He seems stunned to see you.

“Patrol went overtime,” he curtly explains as he toes off his boots, “I’m fucking beat.”

You only stare at him from your position on the couch, eyes following his figure as he marches towards the bedroom, possibly to wash off the day’s dirt and grime, barely sparing you a second glance.

“Hey, babe,” Bakugou calls out from the bedroom, who, from the sounds and smell of it, has already come out of the shower.

You hear a rustling noise, “What’s with all these fuckin’ wrappers? Is it your birthday or some shi–”

He falls silent as realization dawns on him, and you shut your eyes in dreadful anticipation. Earlier, when you were still fired up with the day’s anger, you thought you could handle this confrontation (if he ever realized what day it was), but you might’ve overestimated yourself.

Because now, you’re on the couch, hugging your knees and feeling completely pathetic as you hear his footsteps get closer and louder.

Suddenly, your face to face with Bakugou Katsuki, who’s kneeling to peer at you.

And he looks absolutely guilty.

“Y/N, I am so sorry—”

You shake your head. That shuts him up.

“I’m not in the mood for apologies, Katsuki,” you start, “I’m—I’m not mad at you for not having prepared or set aside anything.”

Swallowing the ball in your throat, you press on, “I know you have a lot on your plate right now, and I understand.”

He eagerly nods. You sniff to help hold back the tears that are threatening to spill out, and Bakugou’s hand shoots up to cradle your face in response.

You let him.

“I’m just…” you look down, unable to meet his eye, “disappointed, Katsuki.”

You will yourself to look at him again, “I figured you’d at least remember what today was.”

“Fuck,” he warbles, and now you’re both crying, “I’m sorry, princess. I…”

He trails off, and some twisted part of you is thankful for it. You already know what was going to come out of his mouth—either their staff was a pain in the ass today and he had to step in, or a villain came around to stir shit up, resulting in overtime and him not having the time or energy for anything else.

This way, he could spare both of you the excuses that have seemed to etch themselves onto the tapestry that is your relationship.

“Let me make it up to you,” he says instead.

You don’t know how he plans to do that, but at this point, you’re too tired and hurt to ask or fight back. You gingerly nod your head in agreement.

And with that, he lifts you and carries you into the bedroom, all the while trailing soft, almost hesitant, kisses at the expanse of your neck.

He lays you down gently on the bed, and he climbs on top of you, hovering, until he has his forearms at both sides of your head.

You find yourself melting under the intensity of his loving, albeit guilty gaze.

“Happy birthday, Y/N,” Bakugou whispers, before diving in for a scalding kiss.

And make it up to you, he did.

The day after your birthday, he files for a leave in his agency, as well as cashes in Mirko’s favor from when he saved her ass in a past mission together, successfully giving you an extra paid leave for the day.

He ends up taking you out to a fancy soba restaurant recommended by Todoroki, and to an exhibit you’ve been wanting to see for the longest time, but haven’t gotten around to due to the ungodly wait (thanks to his Pro Hero card, though, you were able to get special passes).

And, it was at the end of that art exhibit when Bakugou pulls you into a private room and tells you he loves you for the first time.

Needless to say, you were over the moon.

But as a great author once said, one can’t undo the pain one caused. One can only atone for it.

Despite yourself, a seed of unease takes shelter and grows inside of you.

The fourth time it happens, it finally escalates into a full-blown fight.

It was a Saturday night, and you were enjoying a nice, stay-in dinner with Bakugou in his penthouse. By some miracle, he was able to take the night off despite the busyness that came with December and the looming holiday season.

“Stop staring at me,” he had said while expertly chopping the assortment of vegetables you bought fresh from the market earlier that day.

You grinned at him, “Not my fault you look sexy when you’re cooking.”

“Shut up, dumbass,” he retorted, but there was no bite to it. If you knew any better, you’d say he was blushing. “Now come help me with this.”

And that, you did. More like fumbled around his luxurious kitchen while he took the lead, but you tried your best. Which brings you to now: you, seated across from Bakugou at his corner coffee table, overlooking the city skyline.

“Eat,” he commands.

You happily indulge him.

Scooping a spoonful of the imoni stew he graciously prepared for you, you bring it to your mouth, all the while not breaking eye contact.

“Mmmm!” you exclaim the second the flavors explode in your mouth, “this is so good!”

He only smirks in response, but you can tell he’s pleased with himself with the way his chest puffs up with pride, “Don’t talk with your mouth full, idiot.”

You giggle at how his words juxtapose the way his tone sounds so smitten. Hastily chewing the cabbage, you regard him after you swallow, “Right, you said you wanted to tell me something?”

At that, he visibly stiffens, and your stomach drops, feeling a shot of dread replace the elation that’s been coursing through your blood ever since the night began.

“Yeah,” he starts, “I’ve been thinking…”

“Yes?” you mentally slap yourself at how nervous you sounded.

He looks you dead in the eye, “And I think it’s about time we move in together.”

You can’t believe your ears.

That’s not what you were expecting him to say.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he places his utensils back on the table, “Think about it, we’ve been dating for almost a year now, and my place is closer to the agency and Mirko’s.”

He shrugs, “And we rarely see each other these days. I figured we can solve that by having you move in with me.”

You try to laugh, but it comes out stilted, “Don’t get me wrong—I’d love to move in with you, Katsuki.” At that, he deflates in what you think is relief.

“But I have to ask—what prompted this? We’ve never talked about living together before.”

He looks down at his clenched fists on the table, and you can’t help how your body tenses in anticipation of the worst.

“This has nothing to do with asking you to move in with me,” he starts, “but there’s another thing I have to tell you.”

Your voice comes out meek when you reply, “What is it?”

“I got chosen to go on a very important solo mission.”

What’s the caveat? your mind immediately conjures the thought. Instead, you say, “Really? That’s awesome, Kats. Congratulations!”

He flashes you a grim smile, “Thanks.”

You force yourself to smile back, chuckling, “But?”

At your utterance of the three-letter word, he sighs, smile now erased from his face, “It’s overseas. Estimated to take about two months.”

You stay silent, just staring at him. He takes this as a sign to drop the last bomb.

“It starts next week.”

At that, you spring onto your feet, “Seriously? Do you even know what you’re gonna miss?”

He follows suit, “Of course! Shit—I’m not a fucking idiot,” he looks to the side in frustration, “I know, and I’m sorry, but this isn’t something I can just pass up.”

The snarky rebut of ‘It actually is’ dies in your throat when the fact of how much being the best matters to Bakugou crosses your mind.

“...But you promised me you’d spend the holidays with my family.” Your tone is quiet now, in stark contrast to earlier. You don’t even get started on the two-month absence.

He huffs, “I know. But I—”

“I’m sorry Katsuki,” you look down in shame, unwilling to look him in the eye, “and I know this is unfair of me, but I just can’t help but feel like you’re choosing your career over me.”

“But this mission could possibly make me number one,” he pleads, “Over shitty Deku, Y/N.”

You can practically hear the pain in his voice when he murmurs the next few words: “Number one.”

You shake your head in resignation—you know where this is going. You’ve gone through the motions of these arguments a hundred times before.

You’re fighting a losing battle.

“I know.”

At your quiet affirmation of his reasoning, Bakugou circles the table and wraps his arms around you, albeit cautiously. Tightening his hold on you, he whispers a soft thank you, and you feel your heart clenching in pain at how awkward and distant he feels despite being so close to you.

You have the urge to ask him if he only asked you to move in with him to soften the blow of what he was going to say next, but you hold your tongue. The last thing you want is for you to go on your separate ways for two months while in the middle of a fight.

You did end up going back to your hometown for the holidays, although with one less companion. Having to answer your family about Bakugou’s whereabouts was a huge pain, with you eventually resorting to terse responses the more times the question got reiterated.

Your family got so involved in the state of your relationship, with your father dropping I told you so’s ever so often that you finally decided you’ve had enough on the night of Christmas, and resolved to leave for Tokyō the next day.

You were planning to just spend the rest of the holidays in your apartment (you never got around to moving into Katsuki’s home), and wallow in your sadness over your relationship, but fortunately (or unfortunately), you ended up going out of your unit to spend New Year’s at Mina’s instead.

You note the profound role her persistence has played in your life.

Fast forward to now, with you having stepped out of the crowded party in her living room and onto the balcony, grateful for the cool, night breeze.

You hear the sliding door creak open behind you, and you don’t need to look over your shoulder to see who it is.

Footsteps pitter-patter against the floor until you find Mina standing there at your right, uncharacteristically quiet.

You don’t want to hear any comforting words about Bakugou’s absence, so you speak ahead, “Thanks, Mina.”

Her head whips to look at you, and she smiles warmly, “For what?”

“For inviting me to celebrate here,” you will yourself to smile back, “I think I needed this.”

She wraps an arm around your shoulders and squeezes you, “Of course. I—uh,”

She pauses, and you look over at her expectantly, “You what?”

She slowly lets you go and fully turns towards you, the ledge supporting her body weight as she leans into it. A serious expression now adorns her face.

“Just that…I’m not the one you should be thanking.”

You mirror her stance, facing her and narrowing your eyes, “What do you mean?”

She sighs, “Don’t tell him, but Bakugou’s actually the one who told me to check in on you.”

You take a step back from her in surprise (or hurt, you’re not sure—the emotions you’ve been feeling these days have been nothing but complex), but Mina’s quick to step forward and grab your hands, holding it in hers.

“He sounded really sorry about having to leave you alone for the holidays, you know.”

You feel the pinprick of tears at Mina’s words, bringing you to look down at your feet as a means of hiding your sadness from your best friend, even if you know that barely conceals how you’re feeling.

“Come here,” she ushers you in for a gentle embrace.

And you do.

You both stand there for what feels like an eternity, with her rubbing small circles on your back and you crying silently on her shoulder.

“He really loves you, you know,” she whispers, after a long pause, “Eiji and I have talked about it with the rest of our friends—we all agree how it’s practically clear as day.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, and allow yourself to bask in the gravity of Mina’s words.

“I know.”

The fifth time it happens, you astound yourself with your lack of resistance.

While Bakugou was out in the US for his solo mission, you decided it was the perfect time to put in the extra effort in your own work.

Whether it was to make something of yourself or to distract yourself from the loneliness that came with Bakugou’s absence, it didn’t matter. The bottom line was you finally had something to work towards, and it felt good.

You’ve been eyeing this promotion to be the Recruitment Lead in Mirko’s hero agency for over three months now, with the deliberation process taking longer than you’d like, only for it to end with you falling short of the other candidate.

You clench your fists at the thought of having received the news earlier that day.

Insecure and dismayed, you’ve been waiting for Bakugou to come home so you can tell him about it. It’s gonna have to be a long story, seeing as you haven’t even gotten around to telling him about wanting the promotion in the first place. In anticipation of the conversation, you stocked up on his favorite snacks and drinks.

Finally, at 8:54 PM, you hear the lock open with a click.

You rush to the entryway of your now-shared home, and flash him an inviting smile, “Welcome home.”

He’s in his regular clothes, having stripped himself of the grime and dirt back in the agency. Good, you think to yourself, you’ll have more time with him like this.

You’re about to ask him if he’s eaten dinner and if he can spend the night talking when he practically, and unceremoniously, collapses on top of you.

You’re agile enough with your arms shooting up to help carry his body weight, clutching his waist and arm to keep you both steady.

“Katsuki?” you squeak.

He only burrows his nose in your neck and huffs, “I’m fuckin’ exhausted. Let’s go to bed, please?”

You can’t help but ache at the sight and sound of you Katsuki beaten to exhaustion like this. So, like the good partner that you are, you nod in affirmation and assist him as you walk to the bedroom, and help him out of his clothes until he’s left in nothing but his boxers.

Now lying on the bed and under the covers, he holds his arm out open for you.

His voice is low and rough: “C’mere.”

And you do.

You climb into bed next to him, settling into his side as a muscled arm drapes across your waist.

You look up at his face, and a part of you hopes his eyes are still open and twinkling with invitation.

For conversation. For intimacy.

For anything.

But you’re only met with the peaceful, sleeping face of your lover.

That was the fifth time it happened.

And the last.

“Is there any reason you dragged me out of my pajamas to come here at–,” he checks his phone, “8:14 PM?”

You ignore Bakugou’s incredulous question, choosing instead to look around the view of the park from the bench where you’re both seated.

You glance at him, all in his bedhead and glasses-wearing glory. He had a long day, as per usual, having arrived home thirty minutes after 7 PM, but you had to have this conversation sooner than later.

“You seriously don’t remember this place?”

“‘Course I do,” he says in a heartbeat. “This is where I took you out on your best first fucking date ever.”

You snort, “That was yours.”

He sits up and scowls at you, offended, “Fuck that shit. That was both of ours.”

You laugh, unable to tease him any longer, “It was. You even flexed your hero skills to me and all.”

He slinks back into the bench, huffing as he crosses his arms over his chest, “Damn straight.”

You roll your eyes, “Show off.”

He snickers, “Simp.”

You shake your head, trying to fight off the grin that’s spreading across your face. Now was not the time for flirty banter. Not with what you’re about to tell him…

“But really, though,” Bakugou pipes up after a few minutes of silence, “what’s up?”

You can tell he’s trying to sound more playful than he usually does. Still, there’s an air of tense anticipation surrounding the both of you, and it’s been there since you asked two weeks ago if he could clear out tonight’s schedule, as you had something important to say.

Here goes nothing.

You exhale, albeit quite shakily, and close your eyes.

“I can’t do this anymore, Katsuki. I’m sorry.”

Your eyes flutter open to see him holding his breath, visibly on guard.

Bakugou’s smart. You’re sure he knows what you’re talking about, if not because of his intelligence but of the way he gulps nervously, no matter how imperceptible that was.

But he still retorts with, “You can’t do what anymore?”

You gesture vaguely at the distance between the two of you. That’s only been growing in the past few months.

“This. Us.”

You heave in a deep, shaky breath, refusing to look at him. He takes your hand into his.

“I can’t bear it anymore. Forcing you to choose between your hero work and me.”

You chance a glance at your Katsuki, and he’s staring at you, eyes brimming with tears and with such intensity that knocks your breath away.

Still, you march on. You have to get this out of your system before you chicken out.

“It hurts me to make you choose. Especially knowing how much you love what you do and how much you’re needed by other people.”

You try to swallow the lump in your throat, but you still end up choking, “But I need you, too, Kats.”

“And, I can’t keep on getting disappointed and hurt like this every time I don’t get chosen.”

At that, you finally let the tears you’ve been holding onto fall down your cheeks, “It’s all too much.”

A part of you still hoped he’d hop onto his feet in protest and beg for you to stay with him and proclaim how he’ll try harder, despite knowing, more or less, that no objections will pour out of his mouth.

True enough, Bakugou remains silent, like the tears that quietly drip down onto his clenched fists.

Because deep down, he knew.

He knew, from the very beginning.

Before he even decided to keep your number. Before he plucked up the courage to send you that first text. Before he sucked it up and asked you out on that first date.

He knew—that no matter how much he tried, he just couldn’t meet you halfway.

tagging. @katsukis1wife

extra credits. katsuki's first date line (tweet). quote about atonement.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou imagines #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou imagine #bakugou fluff #bakugou angst #bakugo x reader #HSJAHSJAHSAJ i hope yall like this T____T #i wrote this in two days and significantly hurt myself in the process #i love and hate angst

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 1 year

Text

With Good Weather Brings Good Breedings (18+ Fic) 🐰🌸

Pairing: Poly!KiriBaku x Black!Bunny Girl!Reader

Synopsis: In which your spring cycle comes a little earlier than usual and you’re too afraid of your boyfriends–whom you’ve been dating for five months–thinking you’re weird instead of telling them about your cycle during mating season. However, during a picnic thrown especially for you, your two favorite pros are more aware than you realize and are more than happy to help you with your little problem.

Story Warnings: Smutty Smut, 18+ (MINORS STAY TF AWAY), Poly Romance, AgedUp!Pro!Bakugou & Kiri (they’re in their late 20s), Black!Reader, Bunny Girl!Reader, Mating Cycle, In Heat, Dick Crazed, Public Sex/Exhibitionism, Masturbation, Foreplay, Nipple Play, Light Foot Fetish (Toe Sucking), Clit Stimulation, Overstimulation, Deepthroating, Biting/Nibbling, Hair/Ear Pulling, Tail Stroking, Spanking, Face Fucking, Light Hints of Dacryphilia, Degradation, Name Calling, Pet Names, Multiple Positions (Doggystyle, Full Nelson, Mating Press), Non-Protected PIV/Non-Safe Sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT), Mentions of Breeding, Squirting, Creampies, Facials, Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: Happy spring, y’all!! Decided to celebrate by giving y’all another smutty short fic. You’re welcome, enjoy & thank you tons for the love on my work so far. Stay safe out there cuz COVID ain’t over. Wear your mask!! -Jazz

Chapters: Two, Three, Four, Five

Read on AO3 here!

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

CHAPTER ONE: GIRL TALK

You step out of the Uber you bought minutes ago after saying thank you to the driver and tipping him for his safe driving and comfortable leather seats.

As he drives away, you take a deep breath, filling your lungs with the clean, cool, sweet-smelling air, hints of the warm sun, and fresh grass shavings from the park behind you infiltrating your senses.

‘Finally,’ you think as you stare up at the clear, blue sky. Spring is here.

Well, not technically since it’s a week away, but it might as well be officially here with the gorgeous weather now settling in. Gone are the cold winter days and snow on the ground. Now, all you see are flowers blooming on trees, kids in the park, and people sitting outside of the bistro you stand in front of.

You decided to meet up with your friends for lunch, both of who work at different agencies than you. Still in your cute little office fit from today, you walk into the quaint little bistro. It is not as packed on the inside as it is on the outside, so you’re able to find your friends immediately. They sit at a round table near the window, already having their cocktails and appetizers ready.

Mina aka pro hero Pinkie waves from her spot next to Jirou aka pro hero Earwig. “Y/N!” she shouts even though you’re a few feet away. “Over here!” You can see that Mina is dressed for the occasion in a pink sundress and a cropped jean jacket.

You giggle at your friend’s cute antics as you walk over to the table, giving each of them a squeeze. “Thanks for meeting me,” you coo as you take a seat across from them.

“Thanks for inviting us,” Mina replies before giving you a whistle. “Damn, girl, you look cute! I’d kill to have my ass look that good in a skirt!”

“Please,” you scoff but flush at her compliment. You admit you wanted to look cute today for the weather, your lunch date, and two particular people at the agency you work at. You went for a nice sweater, some comfortable heels, and a pencil skirt with the fabric cut out in the back to let your little cotton tail breathe.

You sit across from your friends with your ears free from the elastic band you usually put them in at the top of your head, both of them drooping down due to your relaxed state. As an animal hybrid, specifically a rabbit/bunny hybrid, you do everything in your power to be as discreet and as safe with your “animal parts” as possible. That means ruining your clothes to let your tail stretch and tying back your ears to avoid them getting pulled on.

“Thank you, but you look good in anything,” you tell Mina. You glance at Jirou in her oversized sweater and jeans that hug her slim hips. “You both do.”

“I tried to get her to ditch the sweater,” Mina says, nudging Jiro who playfully glares at her. “But I did manage to get her in the jeans!”

“And I look damn good,” Jirou snickers as their waitress comes over. You order your own cocktail and main course before the waitress hustles away and you dig into one of the appetizer plates set before you. “So how was work?” Mina asks as Jirou sips on her whiskey smash. “Since you changed the time for us meeting up, I’m guessing it was busy.”

“Oh, man, was it,” you huff, feeling good to have some food in you now. And to be sitting. Despite being an office assistant for two years, you were on your feet all day: scanning; running from floor to floor delivering papers; answering calls; sitting in on a meeting that your boss organized to meet with another agency CEO in America, and taking tons of notes, etc. Your poor little feet were about to explode!

You couldn’t wait for lunch to come which finally arrived at 1 PM. Once it did, you announced your departure to your boss and you were out. All your boss told you was to enjoy it. He trusts you and likes your work ethic, determination, and hardworking personality (as he’s told you before). You’re the type to stay late when no one else will and help out with extra tasks. That’s why you get extra leeway, such as having a two-hour lunch instead of just one.

“I’m shocked those two idiots even let you outside when you dress like this,” Jirou comments, nodding at the way your skirt hugged your hips. Mina giggles as you flush, sipping your cocktail. “Maybe Kirishima,” she purrs, wiggling her brows at you. “But definitely not Bakugou. I’m sure he’d force some sweats with his name printed on your ass for you.”

At the mention of your coworkers and boyfriends, you feel yourself get hot under your cashmere sweater. You sip your cocktail, twirling your tongue around the straw as you do, and advert your gaze from your all-too-knowing friends. They knew those two idiots at you by the heart, but they also knew you had them wrapped around your finger.

You’ve been dating Bakugou Katsuki aka Ground Zero and Kirishima Ejirou aka Red Riot for five months now. You’ve known them for two years since you worked at the same agency, though in different departments. While you were usually in the office, they were out patrolling and fighting crime, but occasionally stopped by to pick up reports or sit in meetings. You called them your coworkers since you technically worked together.

At least that’s what Kiri always dubbed you whenever he’d see you down the hall or in the cafeteria. “Hey, coworker!” he’d greet you with that big ass, sweet grin on his handsome face. You found yourself looking forward to seeing that smile and hearing that nickname as time went on and you got to know him better.

You didn’t know what to make about Bakugou for the two years you knew of him. He always seemed so cold and snapped easily, so you did your best to keep your distance. However, you still gave him a ‘good morning’ every time you saw him in the elevators or a ‘good night’ when you left the agency for the night. He never gave you so much as a nod or a look that always rubbed you the wrong way. You thought at first that he didn’t like you, mostly because of you being a bunny girl.

You weren’t blessed with the strength and phenomenal thighs of the bunny hero Rumi, but you did have the ears and the tail. Which is why you were sure Bakugou disliked you. People often have a misconception when it comes to bunny hybrid people, especially bunny girls: they’re too hyper; too jittery; too horny. None of that was true, which is why when you saw an opening for Bakugou and Kiri’s agency, you took it.

You wanted to prove to everyone that you were more than capable of being a ‘normal’ human being and a professional worker. Bakugou seemed to notice that eventually because one day, out of the blue, he complimented you on the PowerPoint presentation you gave for a meeting he and Kiri sat in on. “Nice presentation,” he said in his raspy, grumbly tone, which you realized was just his voice. “You know your shit.”

You were shook, blinking at him in shock. But he wasn’t being sarcastic or playing with you. Those vermillion eyes, which usually made you nervous, said it all. “T-Thank you,” you stuttered out.

That was over a year ago. Since that day, you, Bakugou, and Kiri became close friends. You ate lunch together, texted each other, and they walked you to the bus stop after work until they began driving you home. The romantic feelings that developed between you three came on strong but slow, but when it hit you, it hit you hard.

It hit you real hard. You began feeling that warm zing whenever they touched you or feeling your heart race whenever they gave you a smile. You were more than happy to keep these feelings to yourself, but they weren’t. So one Saturday night, they treated you to dinner and game night at their place. Under some candlelight and your belly filled with some good ramen was when they each took your hand and stared you down across their kitchen table with their eyes like sunken treasure.

“We like you,” Kiri had said softly, his cheeks a pale red. “Not just as a friend. As more. We want to be more with you.” You were in shock. Here two of the most popular and sexiest heroes were confessing their romantic feelings for you. You. Out of every model, celebrity, or famous woman in the world.

“We want you to be a part of what we have,” Bakugou added, stroking his thumb along your knuckles. “So don’t say yes unless you’re sure, dummy, ‘cause that’ll piss me off.”

After picking your jaw up off the floor and smoothing down your ears that shot straight up in excitement, you gave them both a genuine, needy yes and had the pleasure of tasting both of their lips for the first time. Each of their kisses had your foot twitching to thumb against the floor and your cotton tail begging to be stroked, but you managed to play it off cool. You three ended the night with some Mario Kart, ice cream, and cuddling on their couch.

Since that night, it’s been no one but you three. The past five months have been nothing short of amazing for you. While your relationship is still under wraps since people like to talk, Bakugou still walks past your cubicle to check up on you and Kiri always makes sure you get off and on the bus safely by standing at the stop whenever you’re going to or from work. It feels good to have them protect you. Worry over you. Adore you.

And though the five months have been amazing, there is still one thing missing. The sex. And that’s what you invited your two closest friends to talk about.

You sit up straight in your seat, feeling somewhat confident now that the alcohol is in you. “So I called y’all out here for a reason,” you begin, folding your hands on the table. “I wanted us to talk about something that’s been bugging me.”

Mina and Jirou sit at attention immediately, eyes on you even when the food comes. “We’re all ears, boo,” Mina says as she begins to chomp down on her burger. “Shoot!”

You wriggle your fingers nervously, trying to come up with a way to start this right. “So,” you begin, clearing your throat, “you when certain animals go into cycles when the spring comes?”

“You mean in heat?” Jirou asks, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, Momo and I have a kitten that went through that last year before she got her neutered. Why?”

You flush, embarrassment blooming in your chest, until Mina giggles. “Y/N, we know you go through heat, silly girl! You’re a hybrid; a bunny hybrid at that. Of course, you go through mating cycles!”

“But that’s just the thing,” you groan, frustrated already. “I haven’t been in a relationship while in heat in years. I’m usually always alone, so it’s easy to just hook up with someone or just use my toys. But now, with me being with Kiri and Katsuki…” You trail off, shame lodged in your core.

You have yet to talk to Katsuki and Kiri about your little “spring cycle.” Due to spring being mating season for many animals (especially mammals) you, as a hybrid AND a mammal, get it big time. It happens every year around the first week of spring but then fades over time and gets easier to manage when summer begins to come. It’s sort of like a period cycle except there isn’t any blood, cramps, or bloating.

However, you do ovulate, have tender breasts and mood swings, and become overly sensitive in terms of your body. Especially your nipples and clit. I’m talking about going braless and avoiding any mentions of sex to avoid your pussy going into hyperdrive. But this only happens during the first week of spring, which is the hardest stage to manage your life in.

You get so unbelievably, annoyingly horny. You awaken for days in a sweat and your pussy wet from the nastiest dreams you could imagine. You’ve had to have several bathroom breaks at work to get a nut because you’re unable to focus. You can hardly sleep at night, haunted by fantasies of getting bent over and fucked into a trapezoid, leading to you walking around with dark circles under your eyes and no tolerance for people who ask if they can touch your tail.

No amount of toys or stimulation with your fingers will help you during this stage if your body doesn’t agree with how many times you make yourself cum. Lately, you’ve been searching for hookups to cure you of your urges, but last year after one of your one-night stands pulled on your ears, you decided to cut off all kinds of physical contact with anyone when you’re in heat.

Well, until Kiri and Bakugou came into the picture.

But after the first stage is done, you’re usually fine. Once that first week is up, the second week is the second stage, and though you’re still horny, the level goes from 100 to about 50. You’re finally able to focus on daily tasks. You can sleep better. Giving yourself one nut is enough for you.

But now that you have two amazing, loving, and sexy partners–two that aren’t just hookups or FWBs–you are more than reluctant to tell them about your cycle, let alone have them even see you during it. You’ve already felt the first few symptoms of your cycle beginning to take root: naughty daydreams of the three of you together, hands and mouths on you; your body growing hot when one of them touches you; your tail and ears twitching at their scents.

You don’t know if you can handle your cycle this time. Not with Kiri and Bakugou in the picture. You’ve thought about asking them for a break until the spring ends, but even thinking about asking that of them makes you sick.

“Well, girl, that’s a given!” Mina replies to you, snapping out of your thoughts. Jirou nods, her mouth full of her lunch. “I’m sure Kiri and Bakugou know about your cycles. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be dating you. I mean, they have to know from the sex, right?”

Your friends look at you expectantly. You advert your eyes, instead staring out the restaurant window at the park across the street. Mina gasps, making you cringe. “No way,” she says, shocked. “You haven’t had sex with them yet? Y/N, it’s been five months!”

You stir your straw around your cocktail glass, biting your lower lip. “W-Well, we wanted to take it slow,” you murmur. “I told them about my less-than-satisfying past when it comes to relationships and sex, so we agreed to wait and get to know each other more.”

And it’s true: Kiri and Bakugou were more than happy to put sex on the back burner in the five months you began dating. You’ve come close a few times–nights during heated makeout sessions on your couch, Bakugou’s hands on your ass, Kiri’s hands cupping your face as his lips move against yours. But you’ve never gotten each other’s clothes off. You don’t even know what their dicks look like…but fuck, do you want to know. You’ve never wanted anything more!

But because of your past relationships ending before they began due to most of your partners wanting you to be a bunny girl out of a porno, and hookups that barely left you satisfied, you decided to act against temptation. You brought your concerns to your men’s attention three months into your relationship at your place after a movie and Bakugou’s hands down your pants.

“I just think we should slow down,” you said softly, each of your hands in theirs. “I really like you both, and I just don’t wanna move too fast, y’know?”

“Of course, cutie,” Kiri had cooed, nuzzling his face into your cheek. “Whatever makes you comfortable. We’d never cross any line with you to make you feel pressured.”

“Whenever you’re ready,” Bakugou added. “Just stop wearin’ these around me unless you wanna get fucked silly.” His hand slid across your jeans, his fingertips squeezing your asscheek.

You almost regretted saying anything that night. While you were incredibly happy with them without that kind of physical contact, you couldn’t deny that you wanted them all over you. You wanted them to touch you; kiss you; tease you; use you; fuck you in every position possible and then cover you in their cum. You wanted to be covered in their kisses and smell like their cologne, their scents imprinted on you like tattoos.

But how the fuck are you supposed to tell them that? Plus, with the rep bunny girls get anyway, you wouldn’t want them to think of you the way other men you’ve been with have: a sex-crazed slut. When you did finally have sex with your boyfriends, you wanted it to mean more than just getting a nut.

“Well, how is this gonna work when you’re in heat?” Jirou asks curiously. “Don’t you have to fuck someone as part of your natural cycle?”

You looked down at your food, pushing it around your plate with your fork. “Well…yeah,” you admit. “Hence my past hookups. Usually, I’m good with just myself to help me out, but as I’ve gotten older, my urges have gotten more intense. But it’s different with Kiri and Katsuki! I really care about them and I don’t wanna jeopardize our relationship because I’m horny.”

“Did you ever think about them caring about you so much that’d they help you regardless of the sex?” Mina asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

You blink at her because no, you haven’t thought about that at all. Mina hums knowingly. “Knowing those two and how crazy they are about you, they’d do anything to make sure you’re comfortable, Y/N. So if they have to make you cum ten times to get you out of your cycle, then so be it!”

Though she’s probably right, you still feel that uncomfortable tug of anxiety in your tummy. How can they be so sure Kiri and Bakugou would be okay with this?

As if hearing your battling thoughts, Jirou reaches for your hand from across the table. “Just talk to them about it,” she says encouragingly. “That doesn’t hurt, right? Just bring it up the next time you see them and see what they say.”

That’ll be tomorrow since Kiri and Bakugou took off today for a break. “I’m sure you’re just freaking yourself out here, Y/N,” Mina says brightly. “Those morons would give anything to see you smile.” She smiles at you, winking. “Trust us.”

And though you smile back, you still feel those nervous butterflies fluttering about in your stomach.

This is gonna be a long spring.

#my works #my fic shit #smutty smut #suki baby #kiri the shark boi #poly smut #kiribaku x reader #kiribaku x black reader #kiribaku x y/n #black coded reader #black fanfic writer #bunny girl

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