#why do they go on so much about him smelling like burnt caramel | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

redpandaramblings · 3 years

Text

Like Caramel For Chocolate- An Omega Bakugou x Alpha f!Reader fic. Part 7

Part 1 Here

Content Warning: Negative headspace, omegaverse, self deprecation, depressive thoughts, pushy parental figures, ambiguous omegaverse reproduction, unhealthy relationships, relationship that could be easily fixed if idiots would use their words and communicate, Shinso/Denki side relationship, Bakugou is a dumbass but so is y/n

Where we left off-

You couldn’t do this anymore.

No more.

The fireworks illuminated you as your grip on the railing tightened until your knuckles turned white.

“Katsuki?”

“”What?” He asked roughly, barely glancing your way.

“Let’s break up.”

What?

What had you just said?

Bakugou looked up, wide eyed, to stare at his alpha. His beautiful Y/N. The hand in his pocket gripped a small jewelry box tightly. He hadn’t been paying full attention, instead he had been in his own head, practicing over and over what he was going to say. But then you had said… He couldn’t have heard right.

“What’d you say?” He whispers gruffly.

Bakugou watched intently. You were staring up at the sky, though it didn’t feel like you were actually seeing the fireworks as they boomed and flashed.

“I… It’s time for us to break up, Katsu. You know it, I know it. This…” You gestured vaguely between the two of you, still not looking at him. “This hasn’t worked in a while. A long while. Years, if we’re honest.”

That… That wasn’t true! Why were you saying that? Bakugou stared at you, shocked. His eyes raked over you, and for the first time that evening, he actually paid attention. You… You didn’t look good. Your outfit was beautiful, and your hair was perfect. But now he noticed the slump to your posture, and the way your shoulders were tense and hunched. How long had those dark circles been under your eyes? Bakugou startled as he realized that whatever was bugging you clearly wasn’t just a today problem. Something had been going on for a very long time and he hadn’t noticed. How had he not noticed? He moved to inch closer to touch you, to hold and comfort his alpha. You held up your hand, stopping him in his tracks.

“It’s alright. I know. I’m sorry I’m saying this today, that wasn’t what I had planned. But there wasn’t a good time before, and you were clearly so miserable tonight…” You blew a heavy breath out, glancing at the omega before looking away. “It’s time. Probably long overdue.”

Bakugou made a strangled little sound in the back of his throat as he stared, wide eyed. What was happening? This couldn’t be real. You were his alpha. His Y/N. Maybe… Maybe if he was honest with himself, things hadn’t been great when he had started out at being a pro hero, but that was over now. It was okay now. Things had calmed down. You were meant to be together! Katsuki took a step, reaching for you again. “Y/N, what are you saying?”

You took a step back, away from him. “It’s over, Katsuki. It’s over and that’s okay.”

It wasn’t okay. It would never be okay!

“I know things might be awkward around the apartment,” you continued, “but it’s only for a little while. I’ve been offered a job, and I’ve taken it. I’ll be moving in a month. I’ll try to stay out of your hair until then.”

Bakugou’s mind screamed. He was frozen, his mind refusing to process what was going on. You were leaving? Leaving him in every single way? Where were you going and leaving him behind? When had you planned all this? What had happened for him not to notice his alpha was slipping away from him? Katsuki whined quietly. You winced and looked away.

“I’m sorry for saying this all tonight, but it needed to be said. I’m sorry.” You glanced his way, giving him a watery smile. “Goodbye, Katsu. I hope you find someone who makes you happy.”

With that you turned and walked away, your pace increasing until you had broken out into a run. Katsuki remained where he was, sinking down until he was kneeling on the peer. He stared after you until he couldn’t see you any more. This couldn’t be real. It couldn’t… He pulled the small velvet box from his pocket and opened it with shaking hands. There was the ring he had picked out, just for you. From the light of fireworks that still flashed overhead he could just barely make out the inscription that he had asked for. “Forever.” Bakugou bit into his fist to muffle his howls of anguish.

-------------------------------

It was strange, packing up. So many artifacts of your life that you have walked by and lived with every day without paying attention to you were forced to hold and consider. Take, toss, or give away. Some stuff was easy choices. You had packed your books up, and sorted through your clothing to figure out what you were going to take with you. But some things were harder than they should be. Like this. You held the unopened toothbrush package in your hands, turning it over and over. You had bought it years ago, when you had just moved it. It was for Katsuki if he ever stayed the night. And here it was, still unopened. It would be a waste to throw it away, unused. But you couldn’t stand to take it with you. You threw it into the give away box with an aggravated sigh. You had known this was going to be difficult, but it was even worse than you had anticipated. So many things in your living space reminded you of the blond that you were leaving behind. The little orange knick knacks you bought because they reminded you of him. The first edition runs of his very first hero merch. The dusty omega nesting kit that was hidden in the back of your closet. There were so many artifacts of your former plans and dreams, and each one hurt in a new way. The smell didn’t help.

You were certain you were imagining it, but lately it seemed like your apartment always smelled faintly of burnt caramel. It was a major reason you stayed away whenever you weren’t packing. It made you feel guilty, even though you were certain you were doing the right thing. He didn’t need you clinging on to him. He didn’t want you hanging on, and he had made that clear time and time again. And now? Now you had to figure out how to live in a world where Katsuki Bakugou wasn’t your sun and moon. You’d figure it out. Somehow. If you could just get that damned smell of caramel out of your nose.

You threw half empty containers of food and spices into the trash with more force than necessary. Maybe if you got rid of the food you had laying around the food smells would go away. You still had three weeks until you’d be moving, but there was enough savings in your account that you could eat out and live on the basics until you were settled in your new place. Or you supposed you could cook at Denki’s. You had offered to help him pack since his schedule was busier than yours. He was going to put in his transfer notice any day now.

You stilled and stared out the window without really looking at anything as you became lost in thought. It was something you hadn’t really processed before. The first time you were going to be moving in with someone, and it was going to be Denki. And it was going to stay Denki for the rest of your lives, or that was the plan at least. It was strange to think about. You could picture it though. Picture Denki and his grin. Imagine chaotic nights with Mario Kart and junk food. A slight blush tinted your cheeks at how easy it was to imagine what your future kids could look like. It wouldn’t be a bad life. It would take time. But you think the two of you could make it good. The friendship was there, and strong. Maybe, with each other's help, you could both let go. Heal. Maybe even come to truly love each other with time.

You glanced at the clock. It was almost time for you to go to work. You planned on giving them a couple more weeks. There honestly wasn’t much to do this time of year, but it got you out of the apartment, and that was something you really needed right now. You glanced around, deciding to leave your sorting as it was for now. In just a couple minutes, you were out of the apartment and on your way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ten minutes after noon. You should be gone by now. Bakugou had listened, pressing his ear to his door. He cursed the building’s soundproofing when he couldn’t hear anything. He was desperate for any sign of you. But he didn’t quite dare confront you. How could he face you? In the span of an evening you had turned his entire world on its head. He had thought you were good. That the two of you had been as solid in your relationship as you had been when it had all started. But then you had said…

You had…

You were…

A whine creeped out of his throat.

The past week hadn’t felt like reality. He’d gone to work on autopilot, focusing on the job in a way that didn’t allow him to think of anything else. His friends hadn’t started asking questions yet, thanks to how busy work had been. Bakugou never thought he’d be grateful for an increase in villain activity, yet here he was. But when his shift was over and he had to go home, that was when your words replayed for him over and over again. He spent hours curled in his nest, barely leaving. He still ate, drank, shuffled to the bathroom. He cared for himself enough that he could still go to work without anybody questioning too much. The only other thing he spent any time doing, he wasn’t exactly proud of, but he couldn’t stop himself. Here he was, going to do so again for the fourth day in a row.

Bakugou crept out of his own apartment. He knew you were long gone from the building, but his guilty conscience kept him moving quickly and quietly until he reached his goal.

Unlocking your apartment was easy. He wondered if you had forgotten you had given him a key when you had first moved in. Maybe you thought he had forgotten or hadn’t cared. Bakugou used to think he understood you pretty well. He wasn’t so sure anymore. He crept in, glancing around. More of your things were gone.

Bakugou whined quietly as he walked further into your apartment. The air stank of burnt and bitter chocolate. If you were so upset you smelled like this, how had he not noticed? He began carefully sifting through the piles that appeared to be for donating. He grabbed a couple old shirts that smelled strongly of you. He tried not to let it hurt when he noticed one of the shirts was an old tshirt you had stolen from him years ago. He knelt on the floor just staring for some time. This was real. You had broken up with him. And now you were getting rid of your memories together and were going to leave. He might never get to see you again. Might never smell your scent again. Or worse, see you with someone else. Smell someone else’s scent on your skin.

Katsuki didn’t fight his tears as he grabbed as many things as he thought he could get away with without it being noticed. In minutes he was back in his apartment, desperately tucking everything into his nest. The smell might last him a while, but not forever. He curled up tightly, pressing his nose into a place where your scent was strong. He couldn’t do this forever. He didn’t know what he could do. As much as he hated to admit it, it was time to ask for help.

And that is all for this time, my darlings! More is in the works and hopefully will get to you much sooner than this part did. Katsuki is starting to pull his head out of his ass, hopefully it's a trend that will continue. TAGLIST- @yzviea, @not-a-pushover, @thelilypieforever, @kumihayu, @aomi04, @ladybakugouu, @luajosephdun-blog, @hakunamatatayqueen, @my-thoughts-are-weird, @left-alone-yuki, @officialtrashbusiness, @lonelyheart-clubband, @katsuki-cait, @moonwritters26, @animexholic, @kyrah-williams, @emilymikado, @wolvesblaxe360, @ficklemcselfish, @helena-way07, @fandomsaremylifesposts, @baby-bakuhoe, @sukeraa, l@ucypevensie11, @idk-sam, @katsuki-cait, @weirdestlove, @sasa-slayer, @anime-for-live, @kaidousimp, @bluesdustyflames, @vitheria, @milktea0208, @maristaymulti, @whatdidshesayyy, @memesbyeloise , @fandomsgotmefucked, @killmehe, @shy-panda02 , @skylan666, @missmolliemoo, @misssugarless, @arcticsakura, @queenondeezmatatas, @lordmypantsaresocool, @bluesdustyflames, @am-198, @hornelittleweeblet2, @joonie-centric

Just a reminder, if you want tagged make sure you have the ability to be tagged turned on; and I’d have to be informed if your blog name changes! Cheers, Darlings!

#reader insert #bnha reader insert #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugou angst #bakugou x reader #reader insert angst #bakugou katsuki #katsuki x reader #omegaverse #omega bakugou #alpha reader #multi part fic #denki #fake dating #fake engagement #part 7

586 notes · View notes

kozumedenki · 3 years

Note

can you do a scenario where male reader got badly hurt during that mission to save eri and katsuki (reader's boyfriend) it's all mad etc because he didn't know about the mission and is too worried like "omg i didn't know anything, he got hurt and he could have fucking died but i wasn't there to help him" shfhjs i'm in love with worried!katsuki :(( thx, missed your scenarios<3

+ hold me, never let go ⮯

(name) rested his head back against the pillow, staring up at the binding lights of the hospital room. balloons and cards and flowers were scattered everywhere from family and members of his class but that didn't help the pitfall in his stomach. if anything, it just made the churning black hole of regret and frustration.

he barely did a thing.

mirio, tamaki, ejirou... izuku. they all gave so much and he tried so hard and yet, he could barely help any of them. how could he even call himself a hero?

tears overflowed, pouring down his heated cheeks. he choaked back a sob while he dug the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying so hard to keep more tears from flowing. sob after sob, his chest began to hurt and his throat became sore but he couldn't stop. he filled the whole room with tears and cries, his only comfort the silence he gets in response.

BANG!

(name) jumped in his bed, sobs lessening to sniffles as he looked at the door of his room that had been blown completely off its hinges. "t-tsuki? what are you-"

"you idiot!" the blonde clenched his fists as he softoy seethes, stomping over to his boyfriend's hospital bed. "you could have been killed or worse... you stupid... god dammit!"

the (color) haired boy had never seen katuski so worked up before. he was never at a loss for words and yet, he couldn't even meet (name)'s tear filled gaze. it was frightening.

" 'tsuki... katsuki," (name) rubbed his cheek dry as he gently reached for his boyfriend's hand, gently intertwining their fingers. "deep breaths... okay? i'm sorry, really. i was told not to talk about it and i was so sure i could-"

"i'm sorry..."

(name) froze, (color) hues widening as he scanned the blonde's face. why was he apologizing? none of this had been his fault, this had been all (name) being in way too over his own head. also, even if it was katsuki's fault, he never apologized... not verbally at least.

"katsuki..." he smiled gently, giving his hand a small squeeze. "you have nothing to apologize for."

katsuki's grip tightened and pulled his boyfriend into his chest, a hand burying itself in his (color) locks. he closed his eyes as he steadied his breathing before opening his mouth to speak, "i wasn't there to protect you... you're hurt and i couldn't do anything."

(name)'s eyes filled with tears again, a hand moving to grip onto the blonde's shirt as he buried his face in his chest. he cried softly into the blonde's chest as he found genuine comfort in the smell of burnt caramel that seemed to completely imprint into the blonde's clothes no matter how much he cleaned them. "i love you," he sobbed. "i'm so sorry i wasn't stronger, not like midoriya or kirishima. i'm so sorry i made you worry."

katsuki softly shushed the other, petting his hair as he gently swayed to try and help calm the (color) haired boy down. "stop apologizing, you idiot. i'm just happy you're safe."

698 notes · View notes

ghost-ghost-baby · 3 years

Text

We're Just Friends! (Omega!bakugo x alpha!reader x omega!Izuku) pt. 3/?

Pt. 1 / / pt. 2

A/n: cannot believe we made it to pt. 3 I’m sksksksksk,,,, they finally get together! Pt 4/5 will b them all together and adjusting and then it’ll b readers bday so 👀👀

Lore: Once an Alpha reaches 21 they get their first rut, they’d either already have their mates or the rut will act as a push for them to get together and bond.

Summary: Reader and Katsuki have been friends for years, and everyone expects them to get together, until reader rescues an omega that lives in their building, and things get a touch more... complicated

Warnings: swearing, omegaverse, mad pining, Katsuki get exposed for going to therapy lmao, Izuku is kinda a shithead, Katsuki b mad insecure, reader is still dumb- everyone except for Izuku is bad at feelings

The two of you had gotten sidetracked, really quickly, it wasn’t even twenty minutes before you were putting a horror video on the tv. That was almost an hour ago, and you were about to doze off now, laying on your back with your head on the arm rest, Izuku right on top of you with his head tucked under your chin. You didn’t know how you got into this position, but you weren’t complaining, it was… nice. Perfect, almost, but something still felt like it was missi-

“Y/n- why the fuck are our stupid friends asking me about your new- Deku?” Katsuki burst through the door, already yelling, and his scent took on a burnt tinge that almost had you gagging when he slammed the door behind him.

“Kacchan! I didn’t realise you were Y/n’s roommate!” Izuku perked up almost immediately, sitting up so he was straddling you with his eyes fixed right on Katsuki.

“Wait, you two know each other-“ You tried to sit up, barely managing to turn your head to see Katsuki, Izuku was stronger than he looked, and he obviously didn’t want you moving-

“Yeah we go way back, childhood friends, right Kacchan?” Izuku’s tone was light, but you couldn’t see the feral look on his face from where you were trapped on the couch.

“Right… that doesn’t explain what the fuck you’re doing here, Deku.” Katsuki snarled, and Izuku giggled at the blonde. What the fuck kinda thing were you stuck in the middle of-

“What does it look like, Kacchan? We’re courting now! And Y/n’s already been such a good alpha, I’m surprised you didn’t ask them-“

“What does he mean you’re courting?” Katsuki’s tone was something you’d never heard before, and your heart twinged at it. “Get the fuck off of them Deku.” He walked closer to the couch, until he could grab onto your arm and haul you off, Izuku sliding back to the couch and pouting.

“He asked me on the way home and I accepted-“ Katsuki’s heart sank, he’d been too late? “I didn’t think you’d care, aren’t you courting Kiri?” Your scent was far too comforting, and the way it accompanied Izuku’s had Katsuki feeling something he definitely didn’t want to. Deku was a stalker! A creepy little nothing stalker! With great hair- no! And you looked so cute when you were confused like this-!

“Katsuki, are you okay?” You waved your hand in front of his face, and the blonde only let out another snarl. What if you found out about what he’d done to Deku, you’d never look at him the same, and from the way Deku was smirking the bastard knew it too.

“Whatever- I’m fucking going to bed.” Katsuki pushed past you, and you could only gawk as he disappeared down the hall and into his room.

It wasn’t supposed to go like this, you were meant to be with him, it had been the two of you for years! Why were you such a fucking idiot! Katsuki was fuming even as he hugged the pillow he’d stolen from your room, how dare Deku come back and steal you! Still, the nagging thought that coming back to the two of you… had felt like home wouldn’t get out of his head and it was only making him angrier.

“Katsuki? Izuku went back to his apartment, do you have any requests for dinner?” Your voice floated through his door and Katsuki opened his mouth to respond on instinct. No, if you wanted to be with Deku so badly you clearly didn’t care about him, and so he would stop caring about you.

“Katsuki? Please come out, I don’t understand why you’re upset but I want to.” You tried to keep the desperate tone out of your voice. It didn’t work, and Katsuki was biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself crooning in an attempt to calm you down.

“Okay… I’ll uh, just be in my room if you want to talk.”

This was getting out of hand, it was like you were living with a ghost. It had been three days of Katsuki ignoring you, three days of no contact whatsoever, and even though you had Izuku, and he was just… amazing, it still felt like something was missing. You actually didn’t think you’d gone this long without talking to Katsuki in- well since the two of you had met. But, it was finally the weekend, you’d have to run into him at some point, and then you could finally talk, even if he didn’t feel like it.

You were pulled into Izuku’s apartment before you could even knock, the omega giving you a deep kiss before quickly tugging you into a hug and rubbing his cheek over your scent gland.

“I missed you, Y/n! What took so long?” Izuku only pulled away when he couldn’t smell anything except you, and pride filled him when he saw you were wearing his sweater.

“Sorry Bub, I was trying to get Katsuki to talk to me but he’s still giving me the silent treatment.” You shrugged as he walked you over to the couch, something already playing in the background, and Izuku pushed you down without hesitation. You let the omega position you how he wanted, wasting no time wrapping your arms around him once Izuku settled down next to you with his head on your chest and your legs tangled together.

“You know… it does seem like he likes you, maybe you could suggest a triad? I know I wouldn’t object.” Izuku’s tone was so nonchalant you’d expected him to ask what you wanted to watch, not suggest bringing Katsuki into the relationship.

“You’d be okay with that? Really?” You hadn’t even considered that, you felt kinda stupid, honestly. Why hadn’t you- oh, right.

“I think he’s courting someone else, actually, I’m sure that’s why he’s being so weird.” You pushed any hope you had down when you remembered how much time Katsuki actually spent with Kirishima, and how close they seemed to be.

“If you say so, but I wouldn’t write the idea off, Kacchan’s always been good with surprises.” Izuku shifted to press a kiss to your scent gland, before he grabbed the remote and returned his attention to putting on a show.

It was Sunday, you hadn’t seen your roommate all weekend, this really wasn’t going how you planned. A sigh left you as you pushed open the door to your apartment, you’d been with Izuku for most of the day, and you were so, so ready to just go to sleep. You’d been exhausted for the last few days, and Denki kept commenting about how snappy you were and asking why your scent was ‘so weird man’ when the three of you had met for lunch. It was sweet how much they cared, but annoying as fuck nonetheless. You were wide awake outside your door though, almost missing the sweet caramel smell that leaked out until you had your hand on the handle. Your room didn’t usually smell like that, not unless-

“Katsuki-? What’s going on?” You pushed open the door to a very, very startled Katsuki, like a deer in headlights, really, and your confusion only grew when he was holding onto an armful of your clothes. “You could have just asked if you wanted something for your nest, but isn’t Kiri helping with that?” You closed the door behind you, and Katsuki’s eyes darted from you to the door. Fuck, you weren’t supposed to be home for another twenty minutes, you’d usually spend at least two hours at Deku’s place, why the fuck had you come back so early? Katsuki clutched the clothes tighter against his chest as neither of you spoke, you really still thought he was with shitty hair when all he really wanted was you?

“Katsuki? This is ridiculous- what’s going on with you? Why won’t you talk to me?” You stepped forward and Katsuki growled when you got within a foot of him, the sound setting you on edge and making you release a growl of your own on instinct.

“We’re gonna talk about this, I’m not letting you ignore me anymore, it sucks! It feels like there’s a piece of me missing-!” You stepped forward with every word, flinching at yourself when you heard your voice crack at the end.

“What does any of that matter? You have Deku now, the two of you are perfect together, you don’t need me anymore!” Katsuki yelled back, everything that happened the last day and the confused puddle that the state his feelings were in finally bubbling over. It was too much, he’d barely seen you and now here you were, reeking of Deku of all people, and accusing him of liking someone else.

“How could you say that? I need you, Katsuki-! I always need you! These last few days have been hell without you! It’s bad enough I have to deal with you courting Kiri, but now you don’t even talk to me and I don’t understand what’s going on!” Tears kept welling up in your eyes, and Katsuki dropped the pile of clothes on the floor, his hands balling into fists by his side.

“Because I don’t know- I don’t know what the fuck I’m feeling!” Katsuki’s voice broke, and you barely had time to open your mouth before he continued. “I thought that we- that we were set in stone, and then I come back to you and fucking Deku on the couch and fuck that hurt! But it fucking- it fucking felt like home, and all I wanted to do was join you and I don’t understand why!” He turned around to wipe his eyes, and your jaw hit the floor as you tried to process. He wasn’t… courting Kiri…?

“You’re such an idiot- you couldn’t just tell me this?” Exasperated didn’t even begin to cover how you felt.

“How could I say anything? I was horrible to Deku in school because I couldn’t deal with my feelings, why would either of you want to be with me after how awful I’ve been?” There was no anger in Katsuki’s tone anymore, and the guilty scent he was putting out was just putting you on edge.

“You regret it though, don’t you? And I know you’ve worked really hard to be better, and you even go to therapy now-“ Katsuki snarled at the last part, he hated whenever you brought up therapy, but at least you weren’t yelling.

“We actually talked it over and… Izuku and I both like the idea of a triad with- well with you, if you wanted.” You reached out to grab Katsuki’s shoulder, though he refused to look you in the eye when you turned him to face you. You had to be lying, you had to, you couldn’t mean that and he didn’t want to get his hopes up for nothing.

“Katsuki, you gotta talk to me, I can’t read your mind.” Your cards were all out on the table now, and your anxious scent was a dead giveaway to your feelings. What if you’d ruined everything? What if you’d gotten everything wrong- you were never good at guessing-

“You’re being serious? This isn’t some kind of payback?” Red eyes finally met yours and you could only nod, you still got caught of guard by how pretty he was. “Okay, I’ll join your shitty fucking triad.”

Taglist (pls lemme know if any of em r wrong)

@pasteldaze @hopeless-ro-simptic @ntngann @somerandominternetgirl-blog @ianem005 @lalaluvzen @antisocial-minnie @rogueofbullshit @hakunamatatayqueen @so-uncute @therealwalmartjesus @unlightedfool @all-the-kings-reblogs @cth-l

#omegaverse #bnha #bnha x reader #yandere x reader #yandere bnha x reader #omegaverse x reader #alpha reader #omega izuku #omega bakugou #bnha omegaverse #izuku x reader #yandere izuku x reader #yandere bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #poly #poly imagine

887 notes · View notes

mega-bastard · 3 years

Photo

Bitch in Heat Stuck Under Debris Gets WRECKED

a miki mouse whorehouse collab, the m.list you can find here

cw: sexual harrassment, abo themes, dubcon kinda

as the poor quality picture can’t really show you, I got stuckage and I chose Bakugo with the finishing touch of making it ABO <3 It’s also two days late but shhhhh we don’t talk about it uwu also 2.7 words of pain enjoy

katsuki bakugou is becoming a thorn in your side.

you’ve both been metaphorically and somewhat literally glued to each others sides since highschool. it’s not necessarily a bad thing, to be quite frank katsuki is something of a deterrent in a world of second genders and pheromones— something you capitalized on in high school.

being an omega hero isn’t something entirely world shattering, but it’s a position that comes with lots of stereotypes— stereotypes you fought tooth and nail to fight against in your younger years. being one of four omegas in your class was...irritating, to say the least. lots of preconceived notions that you needed to be helped with trivial things, and while your classmates intentions came from a good place it was maddening. save for katsuki, back when he had no restraint with his anger and aggression, he didn’t coddle you like your classmates did. Labeled a brute for his actions towards his omega classmates in trivial interaction or sparring, you thrived on the normality— katsuki was an ass to everyone. Your omega was placated, finally encountering an alpha who wasn’t belittling her with preconceived daintiness.

it was easy to hang near katsuki, ignoring the atrocity that was his vocabulary. eventually like the rest of the peanut gallery that was the bakusquad, you just existed alongside katsuki— which meant that you grew on him. katsuki swears up and down that you’re all a nuisance but you’ve seen him go up to bat for all you at some point, you knew you’d all made some sort of ragtag pack with one another. this was rather amazing to you at the time, not to sell yourself short but you’d never really imagined belonging to a close knit group of friends— especially realizing that they understood when it was appropriate to step in for you. katsuki in particular had a knack for being at the right place at the right time.

During your second year you fumbled.

interning with miruko had its perks, a top 5 hero with raw strength, cunning, and the drive to just keep going— and an omega. landing and internship with her had been a dream, even more-so when you learned she’d been watching you since your first year because of the festival. bright eyed and eager, nothing could have dampened your spirits— neither katsuki and his usual moody behavior or the standoffish alpha from shiketsu. yes, you all had landed an internship with miruko and part of you was...worried? katsuki had never looked down on heroes based on their second genders but you couldn’t speak for the shiketsu alpha, both alphas interning under an established omega hero put your inner omega on edge— you didn’t quite know why though. but you chose to squash the feeling and enjoy your internship with who was essentially your idol and continue on.

then you started getting sexually harassed.

his name was omori kisai and he was the worst. hailing from shiketsu, known for their dignified schooling, he was far from it. salacious comments dropped when no one was listening, less that appropriate touching when passing by and just general ick that had your skin crawling and omega snarling. it was easy to brush it off as banter the first time, section off the awkward contact as an accident. The second time you made it clear the comments were not liked and the touches far from appropriate, after the third time you’d snap an insult or have to hold a trembling fish from making contact. but it was coming to a head and your suppressors could only do so much to hide your souring scent. looking back you should have said something, but your pride had told you that it was a necessary step to overcome and push through— that he wouldn’t be the last. it weighed you down, day by day, a heavy cloud that wouldn’t let up. one particular bad timed comment brought tears to eyes and shame to your entire being.

thankfully, as time would come to show, katsuki tended to nose into your dilemmas.

the day prior to the abrupt end of your harassment you’d been tripped up by a villian and had fallen a sizeable distance into a pitiful excuse of pond. of course, omori had taken this as an open invitation to mock you and then offer you his shitty hero costume cloak— not without hinting at you returning the favor ‘somehow’. yeah right. you had stomped off, unaware of katsuki’s presence nearby. come next day, omori avoided you like the plague and katsuki not so subtly stuck to your side like an unwilling chowchow— all growly and temperamental. but his constant presence rubbed his scent off on you. despite his less than chummy attitude, you weren’t mad; katsuki smelled like cinnamon spice and whiskey with hints of burnt caramel— absolutely overpowering yet decadent all the same.

you tried not to think about just how much you enjoyed his smell. your omega was purring about it.

the omori incident was the beginning of katsuki’s subtle hovering. though you pried the truth of his involvement in omori leaving you alone after offhandedly bringing it up to mina and jirou one day, katsuki helped you out of situations as invasively as possible time and time again. by the end of third year it was no secret to you of your classmates teasing of your relationship with katsuki; an amiable and prideful omega and the irritable powerhouse of an alpha. you brushed it off because...well you didn’t know why, but katsuki’s seeming indifference to the teasing had you quelling every jittery happiness your inner omega expressed at the thought of katsuki being your alpha.

now, three years out of highschool and beginning to climb the ranks, katsuki was becoming testy— and for the life of you the reason couldn’t be more opaque. you both work at the same agency, and due to the nature of your quirks you spend all your time together due to their compatibility. compatibility was a bitter word for you, katsuki and yours supposed compatibility had been talked about for some time now but the sobering reality is that perhaps you two were simply good friends— and now sharing your omegas endearment for the explosive alpha had reared its ugly head.

your heat was a week away and already you felt the familiar fatigue begin to lap at you alongside general moodiness. all that coupled with the annoying need to be around katsuki was maddening and sprinkling his own extra grouchy attitude on top and you were ready to snap. in hindsight, that should have been your cue to take an extra week off— instead you chose to once again to champion pride instead of your intellect.

you could have stayed home this morning, you should have.

patrol had been slow, not particularly unusual but favored nonetheless. face raised to the slowly dipping sun you couldn’t help but sigh, the warmth of the late afternoon sun was heaven sent-- you could sleep standing up with much issue. it remided you katsuki, strangely enough though most things did recently.

the sound of screaming and rushing feet shook you from your drowsy stupor. Set on alert, you spied the source of the sudden discordance and found several villains causing a commotion. quickly calling for backup for you before finding yourself facing a hulking mass of green charging you head on. tranquility gone, it was time to fight.

the ache in your body could not be more apparent but your humiliation ran more rampant in your system than any ache or pain could, your fatigue more than present as your body hummed with warmth. leave it to you to get stuck face down and ass up amongst the trashed ruins of what was an office building, weighed down between a broken desk and a collapsed bookshelf. the villain you had engaged with, some self-named idiot calling himself cruel croc, packed a punch and your bruised body and rendered office floor were a testament to that. of course, you’d done quite the bit of damage to him yourself before the entire floor collapsed underneath you both— rendering the meathead unconscious under a rather hefty pile of concrete and debris whereas you were pinned and to utterly weak to do much.

the thrum of your heat was beginning its path of vengeance through your body, feeling too pliant to get yourself out of what was otherwise easy to fix problem. you were feeling it, bad. the heat of your clothed cunt was beginning to become too apparent, unconsciously squeezing your thighs to provide relief to no avail. no, this could not be happening right now of all times. but as much as your inner monologue fought to try and will away your heat, the warmth was becoming too much and sudden breeze of wind had you trembling and whining. the feel of slick beginning to wet your hero costumes spandex set your hazing thoughts into sudden panic, if cruel croc woke up or if another villain came across you would they be above...the thought alone could’ve made you puke. flashbacks to second year had you bucking wildly for freedom, you wouldn’t let anyone have the opportunity for—

“ OI! Shitty ‘mega were are you? Are you—“

you stilled, biting hard to keep your mouth shut. your omega was whimpering, desperate for the alpha, HER alpha to relieve her from her heat. on a normal day she could melt into his scent, but right now? she could drown in it and die happy. with his scent getting stronger the closer katsuki clambered toward you, the more the head haze grew-- the slicker your thighs became. the whimper you let loose was pitiful, the need for some sort of stimulation to your cunt becoming near painful the longer you remained so close yet so far from katsuki. the pathetic little “alpha” you whined as you heard him quickly approach from behind would’ve been utterly embarrassing to you in any other situation.

but if you could have turned to see katsuki, you would’ve been met with the look of an unmistakably feral alpha-- pupils dilated to hell, fingernails blackened, and canines elongated and sharpened. but what you lacked in sight, you could hear and smell.

katsuki was the definition of an alpha as is, but the way he was pushing his scent out was like a big red sign that screamed ‘DANGER’. To you, it had you feeling utterly submissive-- if you weren’t already face down and ass up you certainly would’ve moved into position. practically salivating at the thought of what katsuki could do--

the heated palm on the globe of your ass is thought pausing, the sudden heated touch coaxing a sugary sweet moan from deep in your throat-- the small touch quickly turning to rough palming at your moaning. tt feels so good, but you want more. need more.

“Please, need more Alpha” it's breathy and whiny, something you're far from day to day but it feels too natural escaping you. mewling at the ghost of a touch over your clothed cunt, your blubbering when it presses harder-- escalating you to tears of frustration when it ceases. practically feeling katsuki’s harsh breathing near your cunt you begin to wiggle and wail with all manner of unrestrained vigor; chanting alpha and katsuki like a prayer and begging for relief like a sinner for forgiveness. it’s working, you know it is, if katsuki’s breathing is anything to go by but he refuses any further touching. you want katsuki everyday, but right now you need him.

“Only want you Katsuki, please it’s only been you,” you hiccup your words through a shrill plea, but the tearing of your soaked spandex sends an excited chill down your spine. your legs tremble with excitement when katsuki grips the tops of your thighs and spreads them-- revealing your drooling cunt. it’s both too much and not enough all at once and you wiggle once more, yelping from a smack to your left ass cheek. it’s not particularly painful, not even as katsuki rubs over it right after the hit, but it quells your wiggling nonetheless. you open your mouth to urge him on but he beats you to it.

“No one else, you got that ‘mega? No one gets to see you like this, no gets to touch you like this-- your mine,” he punctuates his declaration with two of his deliciously thick fingers in your cunt and you squeal, “ you got that? I’m your alpha, always have been always will be.” nodding despite yourself, you struggle for words with his fingers pumping in and out alongside the ghost of pressure on your clit “Yes! Yes, I’m yours Katsuki!” you babble your words already teetering on the precipice of your first orgasm. it takes a pickup in pace and a rough rub along your clit and your wailing, slick streaming down your thighs as your first orgasm crashes into you.

despite the pleasant haze in your head, you faintly hear zippers being undone and the shuffling of clothes. licking your lips, you perk your ass up as much as the heavy bookcase allows, purring in excitement like a spoiled cat. The rough grab of your hips leaves you gasping, feeling the length of katsukis dick along your thigh-- long and heavy. you're salivating as he lines himself up with your weeping cunt, ramming his entire length in you with little regard. stars shoot across your vision and your ears deafen, crying out at being so full. it feels wonderful being stuffed this full and you babble it to katsuki. if you could see him, you would see just how prideful and smug he looked-- only he can take care of you like this, none of the other shitty alphas can take care of you this well.

katsuki sets a rough pace, drawing himself out slowly like he’s aiming for you to feel every vein of his dick before slamming back into you. your poor cunt clenches sporadically, drawing groans and growls from your alpha and all you can do is choke on broken moans because the way he feels churning your insides is downright sinful. you felt a band begin to tighten in your belly, your broken moans evolving into babbling-- how good katsuki was making you feel and how he was the only one who made you feel this good. it spurred him onward, fucking into you with more vigor alongside groans of your names and his own praise for you. “Good fuckin ‘mega”, “Takin’ me so well”, and “My perfect little mate” were some of the praise you could catch and had you preening. All of it combined you felt the band tighten and you couldn’t stop yourself from sobbing out. feeling the base of Katsuki’s length begin to swell, you could only salivate at the thought of being knotted.

“Want your knot Katsuki! Alpha I need it”

at your blubbering demand, katsuki faltered in pace for only a moment before a deep mix of a groan and growl ripped from his throat. grabbing and bending your leg upwards he fucked deeper and faster into your battered cunt, the new angle sending you hurtling into your orgasm. eyes rolled back and tongue, you felt utterly boneless-- momentarily brain dead before screaming out at Katsuki knotting you, his own groan of pleasure mixing with yours as he filled you impossibly full with his seed.

trembling underneath him, you were only a fraction aware of movement above you before the weight of the bookcase vanished from you. weakly you glance back up at your alpha. your surprised to see just how feral he looks, no doubt you’ve pushed him into his rut. whimpering as he moves down upon you, he nibbles and kisses along your jaw and neck before biting down on you scent gland. a flash a white hot pain curtailed by just as intense pleasure wracks your wrecked body but the dopy look of happiness pulls a low purr from katsuki.

you wanna say something, anything, but your too exhausted and as katsuki knot subsides you let another weak whimper as he removes himself-- feeling his seed spill from your battered cunt. he pulls a quiet moan from you as he gathers some of it a pushes back in-- and a glance at his smug face lets you know that he’s decidedly not done with you yet.

#miki mouse whorehouse collab #whorehouse compilation [rawdog 1080p] (try not to cum)#stuckage #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #abo #alpha/beta/omega #omegaverse #alpha katsuki #omega reader #self indulgent in that I want more alpha katsuki #so #I'll do it myself #happy belated valentines whores <3

771 notes · View notes

hardyimagines · 3 years

Text

A Crave For Fame

Would love a Forrest piece, maybe where you’re cornered by some bad guy and Forrest steps in and you nurse him. Bandaging his wounds and what not. You get really close to his face and he acts nonchalant about it but you’re really shy. Ends in a heated kiss. Lots of fluff.

TW: Mild Violence

———————————————————————

1932.

The bar smelt like thick liquor and dried throw up. The top of your nose was red and cold from the chilly wind as it whipped around outside swirling in circles, shaking tree branches until they were forced to drop their leaves, whisking up grains of dirt and sending them flying in the direction of those who were outside. It was a dust storm of some sort, that’s what people were referring to it as. The air outside was orange and murky, it looked as if the clouds had descended and were making the world all puffy and one big blur.

The tips of your painted nails slid along the straps of your bright red apron. Unhooking the fabric from the silver hook on the wall, you briefly ogled the peeling paper, crisp and dangling like a hangnail waiting to be ripped off. The apron wasn’t exactly required, but you found that it definitely helped to wear something in order to prevent having alcohol sloshed and spilled and stuck on you when rowdy customers would shake their heavy fists and bounce their heavy, drunk bodies on the counter stools.

Regardless of how many times you wiped down the counter, it always seemed to have a slick, sticky feeling to it and the lemon scent only masked the stench of whiskey and rum for a limited amount of time. The sign outside read ‘Restaurant’ and the sign further forward read ‘Gas station’, and while there was a small supply of gas and a short list of food items on the menu, that wasn’t at all what this place was truly selling.

It was the prohibition era. People were parched and the only way to quench their thirst was by giving them a cold beverage that scalded their throat as it went down. The smooth liquor was rich, bitter, sweet, plain. Everybody had their preference. You weren’t much of a drinker, but pouring beverages was easy enough and from the looks of approval you received all the time, you’d assume you were doing a pretty good job.

Working for bootleggers was never something that had spiked your interest in the past - and maybe it wouldn’t have when you had sauntered up the hill when it was pouring down rain a year ago, but one look at the man had charge had sent you reeling. You didn’t want to work anywhere else.

Forrest Bondurant was one of, if not, the most attractive men you’d ever seen. He had big blue eyes and a head of constantly gelled hair. Why he went through the trouble of styling such a mess, you didn’t know, majority of the time he wore a hat on top of it anyway. He was always strolling around in his big gray cardigan with a button down or another sweater underneath. You couldn’t count the amount of times you’d overfilled the shot glasses on the bar and spilled liquor all over your fingers and the counter, just because staring at him was such a distraction. He didn’t notice though, and if he did, he didn’t say anything.

The front door opened with a loud creak, the hinges loudly alerting whoever had just entered that they were in no shape to be handled so roughly. The door swung shut, slamming loudly behind the new guest. His eyes shimmered green and his teeth sparkled white. The man removed his top hat and strode up to the counter with so much confidence you could’ve upchucked. Men like him made you want to spit in their drinks.

“What can I get for you?” You asked, not bothering to stop and give him the eye contact that he was clearly searching for.

“Something light.” The man said. “I won’t be staying long.” He pressed his elbow against the counter, but made no mention of the filth or the stench.

It wasn’t busy yet, but there were always people inside. Either they slept the night at the bar counter, on the floor, at a table, or outside, or they showed up as bright and early as the sun did, ready to start drinking the day away. Most of the customers that tended to be here so long just made their own drinks when you rested. Forrest knew them, you knew them, so there was no harm done. But this man, he was a completely new face.

“Something light as in water?” You said, pouring a shot of water and replacing it with the shot of vodka that one of the men had been drinking. He was green in the face and looked about ready to faint. You knew he needed to be eased off the liquor, you couldn’t just flat out say that - people reacted too differently to know if it would be a threat or not to cut someone’s intake off.

The man snorted. “Why would I come into a bar for a glass of water?”

You arched a slow brow. “The same reason you’d come in and ask for something light - we have liquor, straight from the bottle. It’s not dolled up and pretty, we don’t have any mixers, it’s just straight alcohol.” You didn’t say another word, instead you finally let your eyes flicker to his own, resisting the urge to glare. But your patience was wearing thin. You didn’t have time for games and he was beating around the bush.

The man sighed. “Moonshine.” He said before lowering himself down on the stool. “And maybe a drink of you?” You could hear the amusement in his voice, as if he were positive you’d take him up on his offer. He found himself hilarious.

Turning on the heel of your pointed boot, you wrapped your slender fingers around the neck of the silver bottle. Rotating, you poured a perfect glass of moonshine and then set the glass down in front of him. No spillage. The liquid was filled to the brim. Extending your arm, your palm creased as you curled your finger inward, waiting to be paid.

Instead, the man grasped your wrist and pressed it against the bar counter. “How about you give this one to me for free? Since I don’t see you marching that ass of yours from out behind the counter.” He patted his lap for good measure. “I went ahead and saved you a seat,” He motioned to his thigh again. “but you know, you’re being awful rude.”

Your eyes creased in the corners, stare hardening as the man tightened his hold on your wrist. Forrest was a shout away, but you were a big girl, not some maiden in a tower waiting to be rescued. Attempting to jerk your arm back to yourself, you hissed under your breath when he turned it at an odd angle. All the other men in the room were out old or oblivious. You could scream their names and they probably wouldn’t bat an eye.

You flinched as he began to rifle through his pocket.

“I’ll give you something.” He said, masking the tone of his voice for a more gentle and apologetic one. But you weren’t an idiot, so you didn’t let your guard down. But it wasn’t as if you could just rip your arm away from him. He was insanely strong and you, unfortunately, didn’t get much upper arm strength pouring drinks. Before you could utter a word, he pressed a cigarette against his lips and lit the end. The brownish-orange tip of the stick illuminated with bright orange embers as he inhaled and the smoke lifted from the end of the form of payment.

“Let me go.” You insisted, practically ripping at your arm so hard that your wrist had gone numb from his tight grasp.

“After I pay you.” He said. You didn’t know what to expect, a puff of smoke being blown in your direction? The man pinched the stick with his knuckles, clasping it between his pointer finger and his middle finger. He rotated it swiftly, pinching it then between his thumb and pointer finger. As suddenly as he moved the smoking tip toward your flesh, your eyes flickered with realization. And then you began to squirm.

“Hey..” You pulled harder. “What are you doing?” It was so obvious. But in a panicked state of mind were you expected to speak adequately. “Let me go, please..” Begging was never one of your strong suits. It just didn’t fit you. You hated it, having to ask someone to have mercy on you. But you didn’t fancy smelling burnt flesh, or feeling the pain that would come along with seared flesh. Scream for help, your brain said. You’re a big girl, but you can still ask for help, it reminded you.

The ashes fell from their loose spots on the cigarette, floating across your skin, dusting it with kisses. The ashes gathered on the counter as he lowered the hot tip of the cigarette toward your flexed forearm. Forrest’s name was on the tip of your tongue, but the pink muscle felt swollen and useless. There was a block in your throat that wouldn’t let your voice free and for the first time in a long time, fear surged through you like a whirlwind, resembling the very state of weather outside. Your body ran hot with fear and as you jerked your elbow to the side, the glass of moonshine toppled over and clattered against the floor.

Pieces scattered along the floor as the cup smashed on impact. If that wasn’t enough to lure Forrest out of office, then perhaps your cry of agony would. But the bloke was just a sliver of a second too late. The tip of the cigarette grazed your skin, enough to leave a slight burn, but as quickly as the glass had broken, Forrest had appeared.

He didn’t hover in the doorway to inspect what was going on. Someone had their hands on you and right away, it was unacceptable. The big, burly man strode forward. His thick fingers curled in the caramel flannel that the bastard was wearing. Forrest snatched the cigarette from his pinched fingers and immediately snubbed the lit tip out by pressing the hot surface against the man’s cheek.

The bloke let out a nasty yell, finally releasing your arm. You lifted your hands, on instinct, to cup over your ears, blocking out the sound of his pained shouting as best as you could.

His cry was like a signal though. The doors flew open and three other men piled in. It was rumored that the Bondurant brother’s were all invincible - especially Forrest. He’d survived a lot - brutal attacks, life-threatening illnesses, having his throat slit, his heart broken, wars. But could he take on four men?

Dropping your hands from your ears when the yelling stopped, you crouched down and began to twist the knob on the safe. It was a sixteen digit pin, so it would take a moment to open, but the revolver inside had six bullets, so you be able to wipe out all of the men with that if it came down to it. You weren’t peering over the bar counter to see what was happening. You were scared - terrified. A part of you wanted to leap into your boss’s arms and give him a bear hug, another part of you wanted to hide in those big arms of his and just forget that your arm had almost been burnt to a crisp. Instead, there was just a very small burn. It was nothing to worry over, nothing in comparison to the burn on the man’s face.

“What the fuck are you all standing there for!” The man rasped loudly, clutching his hand to his face as if the skin on skin contact would help him. “Get him!”

All three men moved forward. One was smoking a cigar - very nonchalant as he marched toward Forrest, one was sweating like he’d just ran a marathon, and the other was blinking furiously as if the dust outside had momentarily blinded him.

Forrest stuck his hand in his pocket and used his fingers to make the shape of a gun. The outline was bulky and visible and the three men hesitated, if only for a second. “I’d think very carefully on what you’re ‘bout to do next, boys.” Forrest spoke softly. His voice was quiet, slow. It was silky against your ears.

You poked your head out for half a second, blindly rotating to nozzle all the way to the left - 11, and then all the way to the right, 5. Inputting every single number as quickly as you could, you jumped in fear at the sound of a sickening crack. You jumped up, expecting to see Forrest laying in a heap on the floor, but instead it was just one of the other men. Forrest stood with his bloodied hand hanging at his side. Blood dripped from the brass knuckles he wore, droplets staining the wooden floorboards. Forrest sneered.

“Who’s next?” He inquired. “The man with the cigarette burn, the broken jaw, the blind one, or the sweaty one.” He flexed his fingers for a moment, waiting impatiently for one of them to charge at him.

What he didn’t expect was for the untouched duo to jump toward him at the same time. He sent his fist flying directly into one of their spine’s, but with the help from the bastard who now had a permanent scar on his cheek, Forrest was sent directly down and on to his back. The men tackled him and you trembled on the spot.

Shakily crouching back down, you began to finish off the code. Forrest’s groans of pain were evident. He was rasping, moaning, putting up as much of a fight as he could. He swung his arms and tried desperately to cover his face. Two men grabbed his arms and pulled them apart, leaving his face and stomach vulnerable to their boss.

The man’s cheek was sunken where the hole was forming. His eyes were red and watery and his stance was slightly shaky. But he had the upper hand as he moved forward. His hand dropped to his pocket and without any hesitance, he pulled a knife free from a holster.

“Now then, why don’t I reopen that cut on your throat?” The man sneered, already beginning to crouch down. Forrest’s nose was bleeding, his eye was swollen and purple. You were sure his stomach would be doused in bruises in the morning and his fingers would be cramped, locked, and jammed.

The safe opened with a quiet buzz and you, with an eagerness, desperately grabbed the handle of the gun and stood. Your hold was steady and your aim was perfect. You’d been working here for a little more than a year, and Forrest had taught you how to shoot within your first few weeks.

Extending your arms out, you held the gun steady as you cocked the revolver. “Hey, asshole.” You said breathily. “If you lay one more finger on him, I’ll kill you.” You could tell by the man’s tense back and resistance to look in your direction that he knew you weren’t bluffing. He slowly tucked away the blade and then sucked in a deep breath of air.

“You’re the first group of people to put up such an unnecessary fight. My brother’s and I, this is what we do, free alcohol from the bootleggers and pretty women are an extra bonus.” He snorted before looking in your direction.

You scowled, before demanding. “Leave..” And although you wanted them to, to all just pile out toward the entrance and get the hell out of here, it worried you. What if they came back sometime in the night when everyone was vulnerable and sleeping? Your eyes were distant as you pondered how this would end. You could blow another hole in his other cheek, though that one would be far more deadly. Or you could let them go.

“Forrest..” You whispered. His guidance was definitely a necessity right now. It wasn’t too often you found yourself in this position. The floorboards creaked underneath you as you shuffled your weight from foot to foot. Forrest sat up with a low grumble, clearly trying to hide the fact that he was in pain. He jerked his arms free from the hold the men had had on him and as he began to stand, he spun around and grabbed the back of their necks. Shoving them toward one another so their skulls rammed into each other, he shoved them both to the floor and then retrieved his brass knuckles. Two opponents down, and one more left.

Forrest gave each of them a few extra punches to the face for good measure, wanting them to realize that they truly weren’t a match for the invincible Bondurant. He whirled around to face the last man, the one who thought he could lay a hand on you, the one who thought he could use you as an ashtray and that would be fine.

The man did that to all of the bartenders, marking them in each town he passed through. His real name wouldn’t live on in the history books, but what he’d done would. Who wouldn’t want to read about a man that burned bartenders with a cigarette butt as a form of payment? It made him want to laugh on the spot.

Instead, he dove head first across the bar counter and directly into you. When it came to fight or flight, your reflexes were clearly to just freeze. His body sent yours crumbling to the floor. It was sticky and disgusting because you only mopped on the weekend. You have a sharp cry of pain and fear as he ripped the gun from your hand and pressed the tip against your chin. “Now then,” He sneered down at you. “You didn’t want a cigarette burn, maybe you’d like a bullet wound. I won’t kill you, I need you alive so you can tell the story about me.” His eyes creased with his lopsided grin and his breath - it stunk of peanuts and smoke. He didn’t even take a sip of the moonshine, it sat prettily on the bar, the liquid shaking from all the movement in the bar.

Forrest stepped toward the bar to help you, just as the man jerked you up and to your feet by your hair. Your eyes were opened wide and your eyes were pleading. The barrel of the gun caressed your soft skin, stroking your chin until he dared to move the gun to your lips. You jerked your head away, scoffing under your breath at the audacity of this man. He must’ve thought he was in a movie with the way he was behaving, talking about himself as if one day he’d be some big story. Your watery eyes moved to Forrest. He hadn’t budged. His knuckles were bloody and dripping - his blood or the men’s blood he didn’t know. All he saw was red. He felt hot and irritated, at a loss of control.

“What do you want?” Forrest said. His voice was so monotone. He sounded like he was taking someone’s order for food, not trying to save your life.

The man chortled. “I want you to light a cigarette and put it out on her body. I’ll let you choose where.” The man moved his hand to the back of your neck, roughly pinching it before he shoved you as hard as possible out from behind the bar and in the direction of your boss. He didn’t follow, he kept four feet between himself and the two of you. The gun was cocked and pointed, all he had to do was shoot.

Your feet didn’t cooperate with your mind, especially not after being forcefully sent flying forward. You rammed right into Forrest’s broad chest, arms immediately lifting so that you could clutch on to his cardigan. No part of you worried that he’d actually do what he was told. This was Forrest, he had a way out of everything - you hoped. Lifting your watery eyes to his own as he pressed his thick fingers against your elbow, steadying you, he checked your face for any signs of injury before slipping his other arm around you as well. You’d never been so close to him, pressed flush against him with hardly any room to breathe.

The man reached up and pinched the front of his hat. Removing the accessory, he lowered it to your head, shielding you from what was to come. Should he be shot, he didn’t think that was something you should see. You blinked slowly, your breaths seeming louder than usual beneath the oversized hat. You couldn’t see much, nothing but the ground and his belly as it rose and fell with every inhale and exhale.

So what happened next made you flinch. It was loud, so loud, there were screams of pain and the sound of cracking bones. Forrest hadn’t moved, he was still standing firmly with his feet planted against the wooden floor. His fingertips dared to brush along your arm, slow and assuring as he watched the scene play out. His brothers weren’t the best fighters, they weren’t the best when it came to confrontation, but regardless of what was happening they’d always have his back like he had theirs.

Without explaining what was going on, Forrest merely lifted the front of his hat so that he could see your features. Inspecting you closely, he let out a quiet grunt before giving you the best smile he could muster. With a swollen lip and a bruised eye, the expression didn’t seem fitting. Who’d be happy at a time like this? Relief colored his features as he slowly brushed his knuckles along your warm skin before he parted his lips to speak.

You beat him to it though. “Thank you..” You whispered softly before dragging yourself back. You didn’t want to suffocate him or make him uncomfortable by clinging to him. There was no longer a threat. “Come on,” You murmured softly. “Let me look at your injuries.” Peeling the hat off of your head, your slender fingers slipped through his own and you slowly guided him toward one of the tables. It was wiped clean, void of any crumbs or liquor, so you set the hat down on the surface and then nudged him gently to take a seat.

Forrest’s knees popped under the pressure and his bloodied hands moved to his stomach. It was only then, when he felt the pressure of the brass knuckles, that he realized he hadn’t taken them off. His fingers felt swollen and stiff and his arms refused to move for a few moments.

You have him a soft smile before slowly reaching for his hand. Your touch was delicate and slow as you pried the brass knuckles off of him. Setting the tool on the table, you turned around to fetch the first aid kit from behind the bar, just as Howard and Jack were hauling the bloke toward the exit. They’d be back for the other three as well.

You stepped over the unconscious bodies on the floor - some drunkards, and the three others were Forrest’s attackers. Retrieving the fallen revolver, you uncocked the weapon and slipped it back in the safe before securely closing the black case and then retrieving the plastic first aid box. The white handle fit snugly in your small palm as you pulled it free from its place under the bar.

You didn’t have the confidence that you’d be able to fix Forrest up as good as new, but you were certain that you’d be able to prevent anymore swelling, help some go down, and patch up the spots on his face that were bleeding. Your boots clicked softly against the floorboards as you made your way over to the table. Setting the box down, you undid the clasps on the front and then pushed it open. Dragging out the small container of alcohol, some gauze, a few wipes, and an ice packet, you gave him a small smile.

Forrest watched your every movement through one good eye, and one half-opened, swollen, purple eye. His nose was busted and bleeding and purple in the center. It didnt look broken, but it certainly looked bruised.

“Could I wipe your hands clean?” You asked softly. There was always an ever present shyness to you when it came to the man seated in front of you. You didn’t know what it was about him that made you feel so nervous, but you felt the need to shy away after every word exchanged.

He gave a quiet hum before lifting his hands and laying them on the table. His knuckles were tense and bleeding in various places. The impact of the brass knuckles hammering against a man’s face, still brought a small amount of pain to the man’s knuckles. He shuffled, watching you as you slipped your hand into his own and lifted it. The sun poured in through the window, falling across the injury so you could see perfectly. You opened the bottle of alcohol, dousing the cloth in it before you gently began to wipe away the smudges of blood and then cleaned the opened wounds, cuts and scrapes that bled like gashes.

He didn’t wince or jerk away even though it stung horribly. It wasn’t a matter of protecting his ego, everyone experienced pain at some point in their life. Adjusting his hand lightly, he cleared his throat before letting his thick fingers drop to his lap when you were finished cleaning them up. “Would you have really shot him?” He asked suddenly.

Your eyes lifted to his own as he asked such a thing. You stepped away again to retrieve some ice, but his words burned your ears. As you filled the ice pack, you couldn’t help but wonder what the honest answer was. Would you have shot him? Blinking a few times, you carried the ice pack back over to your boss and slowly lifted it so that he could hold it in place over his eye. “Yes.” You said after what felt like an eternity to him. “In the leg.. perhaps, or the arm.” You offered. “But I don’t think I couldve killed him.”

Forrest gave a soft nod. “I didn’t expect you to.” He assured you before giving you the best smile he could muster. “I’m incredibly grateful that you.. well, put your life on the line for me like that. He could’ve killed you.”

You snorted. “You and me both. But we’re fine.” Guiding his hand to the ice pack so he could hold it on the wound, you then began to tend to his nose. There wasn’t much you could do, apart from clean up the dried blood that rested underneath his nostril. He had stubble, dancing along the length of his warm flesh. His cheeks and his jaw were coated in the fine hairs, giving some texture to his face as your hand cupped the sharp surface, thumb grazing his chin so that you could tip his head back.

The close proximity was numbing. You felt like you’d been swallowed by a flame. Maybe it was the way the sun illuminated the both of you, but the heat you felt was completely internal. Fidgeting for a moment under his unwavering stare, you watched as the white cloth turned red and his red skin returned to the initial paleness it ordinarily was. Crumbling the rag, you laid it on the table before leaning into him so you could get a better look at his eye. You moved the ice pack, squinting as you inspected the damage.

“I’m not doctor, Mr. Bondurant.. you’re probably better off having this injury looked at.” You suggested before straightening. Your arms slowly crossed over your chest, warm fingertips tracing the sleeves of your shirt.

Forrest grumbled something incoherent before giving you a soft nod. “Feels just fine.” He lied.

“Forrest.” You scolded him. “It’s swollen shut.”

The man arched a brow. Very rarely did you use his first name. His large palm lifted, covering his eye so that he could watch you through the swollen one. “See. Works just fine.”

You squinted challengingly before shaking your head in mild amusement. The man was insufferable. You made movement to turn to clean up the first aid kit tools, but he grasped your forearm tenderly in his large palm.

“Id know if something were wrong with my eye, Y/n, because you look just as beautiful through my swollen eye as you do with my two good ones.” He pulled you in his direction, his expression a pleading one. “Perhaps you should take one more look at it.”

Your brows furrowed at the compliment he’d given you before you stumbled in his direction. Laying your nimble fingers against the unsturdy, wooden arm of the chair. Inspecting his eye as he asked, you gave him a small, shy smile. “Mr. Bondurant, I believe you..” Though you weren’t sure if you did or you just wanted to put some proximity between you and his body. He was so warm and inviting, it drove you up the wall.

Forrest leaned forward. He enjoyed seeing you squirm so much. You were riddled with your fear of being unliked by him, even though it was clear he felt the same things for you. The man’s hand was gentle as it slid up the length of your arm so he could brush a few of your tresses back and out of your eyes.

Your cheeks felt unbelievably warm in this moment. You were sure that if they could be, they’d be the color of a ripe tomato. Lifting your free hand to steady yourself, you pressed it against his strong shoulder. “What are you doing..?” You breathed, attempting to rack your brain for some sort of explanation for his actions. Your brain refused to help you, it was completely blank. The closer your face grew to his own, the hotter you became and the more your brain shut down. You felt like a blob of jello.

He couldn’t help but smile. He sensed your shyness, which was exactly why he didn’t offer any words. Just actions. He figured they’d speak louder. Besides, he had to thank you in some enjoyable fashion. Why not with a kiss? The man spread his thighs wide enough to give you a place to stand. Drawing you forward, he moved his hands to your curvy waist and held on to you as his hot breaths began to mingle with your own.

All at once, your brow smoothed and your mind was completely blank. You saw nothing but him, heard nothing but the hammering of your own heart, smelled nothing but him - and he smelt like smoke and liquor, you felt nothing but his hard body under your palm, and soon you’d taste nothing but those big, pink lips of his. Your own mouth parted, incredibly too willingly, and all at once your mouth’s molded together like long lost pieces to a missing puzzle.

Your body fell into his lap, arms appearing to be insanely slender as they curled around his wide, broad, muscular shoulders. Forrest moved his hand to your leg, steadying you with one hand on your thigh and the other laid against your back. His mouth was slow, tentative, and curious as it moved in sync with your own and your’s was hungry, exploring, and needy. The shyness you felt crept away, but it didn’t go too far, it was just silenced by the romantic exchange he was leading.

His lips were as soft as you were imagined, and he tasted like honey and coffee. You pressed the crook of your elbow against the back of his neck and let a sultry moan fall from your lips in approval. Every brush of his fingers against your spine and feel of his tongue gliding against your own, sent sparks of electricity jolting throughout your body.

You still didn’t understand why he was kissing you, but was there really a point in questioning it? Maybe he was just grateful. Maybe he’d been hit so hard in the face he thought this was the right thing to do? And maybe, you hoped it was for this reason, the incident had helped you both find the confidence to grow suddenly closer. You were careful not to let your nose bump his or your hands to stray too far in fear of hitting an injury. What this meant and how far this would go didn’t cross your mind though, because in this moment there was only him and those sweet tasting lips of his.

———————————————————————

Tag List: @saved-fanfiction @thephuonganh @theaamberr @innerpaperexpertcloud @darklydeliciousdesires @thebeckyjolene @mollybegger-blog @travelingmypassion @caffinated-tree @tcmhollnd @br0ck-eddie @ellar21 @advictedtohim @river-rain-water @crldrr2 @louloudeug99

A/N: This is my first fic in almost a year so please bear with me🖤 ( ALSO NOT MY GIFS ) also it’s been soooo long since I’ve uploaded, I can’t remember how to do a ‘keep reading’ on mobile, so please message me and let me know how!!

#tom hardy #forrest bondurant #forrest bondurant x reader #forrest bondurant fanfiction #forrest bondurant fic #lawless imagine

260 notes · View notes

rayshippouuchiha · 3 years

Note

Nezu finding a younger Izuku and helping him hone his analysis skill (and build some confidence and ultimately creating a terrifying child who can analyze anyone in seconds and take them down just as fast with a smile) and then enlisting him to actually teach classes on the subject

just imagine Aizawa having to interact with this terrifying nightmare child who can read him better than a book

~Ah hell here we go again~ Read More Below!

Nezu doesn’t often leave UA’s grounds these days and even more rarely does he venture out unaccompanied in some way. He has made it a habit of sorts to stay on the campus as much as possible ever since he solidified his hold on the school almost a decade ago.

It’s a move that is he admits, even if only to himself, fueled by equal parts pragmatism and paranoia.

After all UA has most of everything he needs within it already including a set of private apartments scaled just perfectly to his size and tastes despite what impression the large, human suited desk in his public office tends to give any visitors to his domain. Why should he worry about venturing out into the city when anything the campus might not be able to provide for him can easily be procured by his minions dear employees or through delivery via secured drone?

And the fewer trips he makes off campus means the fewer opportunities there are for those who are still displeased with something someone such as himself holding such a position of power over such a prestigious hero school to take action. He, of course, has all faith in his ability to protect himself from whatever ham-fisted assassin might come his way but Nezu is, above almost all else, pragmatic.

The fewer bodies left in his wake the smoother his daily life tends to run.

It had, after all, been such a pain to get the records from his time at the tender mercies of his human captors completely sealed and the quietly buried.

The humans involved in the case had finally agreed though and in the years since they did so like to tout how the illustrious UA Principle had been “rescued” from the laboratories.

Few remained who remembered what the heroes who’d raided that hellish place had actually found when they’d arrived.

Those unlucky few who did remember had long since been silenced by hook or by crook. That had been one of the first things Nezu had done when he’d finally managed to accumulated enough power that his subtle threats and sharp toothed promises had finally come to hold real meaning on more than one level.

When he’d finally managed to bite and claw himself into a position of power that showed him as the threat he always had been for those who might dare cross him.

That had been the very first secret he’d ensured would be kept as it was one that posed the biggest threat to his reputations in a number of circles.

Nezu’s intellect wasn’t his only weapon after all, only his most dangerous. Though his teeth and claws could work in a pinch if the situation called for it. And when they’d tried to take his eye it had certainly called for it.

A self professed level of resentment and sadism could be excused by most of humanity for someone of Nezu’s circumstances.

But a body count? Well. That’s when humans tended to get ... tetchy.

So while Nezu does, of course, have a residence of his own off campus for paperwork purposes and as a secondary fall back location, UA’s campus has been his unofficial residence for some number of years now. And it will be his official one as well as soon as he manages to finally get the dorm system he’s been aching to implement passed through.

They will have to pry that school, his school, and what he’s attempting to build there from his cold, dead paws and whatever other insurance policies he manages to put into action between now and his inevitable death. Which will, of course, be some time in the far far future if he has anything to say or do about it. And he will.

All of that aside there are times when leaving the campus is unavoidable, this being one of them. An unfortunate scheduling conflict and a private meeting that absolutely had to be conducted in person had left him where he is now, strolling down the sidewalks of Musutafu and quietly lamenting how very oversized so many things were.

It truly was a pity that more accommodations had not been made for those whose quirks and circumstances of birth left them on the smaller side instead of on the larger scale. But progress could be rather unfortunately slow and so it was just one more issue Nezu hoped to begin subtly influencing in the coming years.

He’s just turning a corner, intent on visiting a nearby cafe with an excellent tea selection before he returns to UA (one must have their indulgences and a good brew and a finely crafted cigarette have long been amongst Nezu’s chosen pleasures), when he hears it.

“Get back here and get what you deserve, Deku,” a voice, rough and young but edged with a viciousness that makes the backs of Nezu’s teeth itch, practically howls.

Nezu, attention instantly captured, pauses just long enough to avoid being mowed down by the child who comes tearing around the corner.

For a split second their eyes meet, a blazing green gaze Nezu can’t help but admire just a bit locking with his own, as the boy sees him and swerves to avoid running into Nezu in his obviously frantic escape.

Nezu hops backwards a half step just as the boy loses his footing and crashing painfully to the side walk beside him.

“A-Are you o-okay?” the boy half stutters, half pants as he looks up at him, eyes wide and seemingly uncaring of the blood Nezu can already smell on his scraped palms and likely ripped kneecaps.

“Are you?” Nezu asks back evenly, eyes tracking over the boy and instantly compiling details and facts as he takes in the tattered school uniform, the pale face, the singed backpack and the bruises he can see just peeking out from beneath unseasonal long sleeves.

Everything about the boy screams battered to Nezu’s sense.

And then he looks down at his feet and sees his shoes.

His distinctive red shoes at that, vibrant in color and thick soled, subtly different in make and construction than most ordinary shoes seen these days, much like the footwear Nezu himself wears even now.

Which means that this boy either has a quirk that affects his feet or ...

“Thought you were going to get away didn’t you, you Quirkless fuck?” A small group of boys rounds the corner then, ignoring Nezu entirely and focusing on the boy who abruptly goes even paler somehow. “Just cause sensei couldn’t prove you cheated doesn’t mean we’re gonna let you get away with it.”

Ah, Nezu thinks even as he presses the urge to snarl down and away, option two then.

The green boy, because Nezu will not be calling him Deku even in his own mind, scrambled up onto his feet then. But, surprisingly enough, he doesn’t turn to run.

Instead he edges forward just a bit, sliding a shoulder and a foot forward until he’s standing almost protectively in front of Nezu himself.

“K-Kacchan,” the green one stutters, “I-I didn’t cheat I s-swear! I wouldn’t d-do that.”

“Tsk,” the blond leader, Kacchan, tisks then, a snarl thick and heavy on his young face. At his sides his hands flex in a move Nezu knows must be related to his quirk. “Bullshit. No way you’d get top of the class in anything without cheating, you worm.”

Nezu has known this child for roughly 6 seconds and he finds that he does not care for him at all. But then he’s never been overly fond of most of humanity either so perhaps that’s to be expected.

“H-Heroes don’t cheat,” Green insists, the naïve if well meant words sounding like a declaration. “If I’m g-going to be a hero then I c-can’t either.”

That explanation only seems to enrage Kacchan even further if the way his hands begin to pop and crackle is anything to go by.

This, Nezu knows as the scent of burnt caramel begins to fill the air around them, is going to escalate quickly.

“Public quirk usage is ~illegal~,” Nezu singsongs as he steps around the green boy and plants himself firmly in front of him instead, abruptly drawing the blond boy and his followers attention toward him. One paw slips into his vest pocket to remove the specially designed cell phone he’s never without. “I would hate to be forced to report this to the proper authorities.”

Never mind that, technically, he is the proper authorities.

The blond glares at him for a long moment before he huffs.

“This isn’t over Deku,” he snarls. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

It’s an obvious threat but the boy turns on his heel, shoves his way through his friends, and stalks off back around the corner in the direction he came.

So Nezu lets it go. For now.

“Now that that has been handled for the moment, young man,” Nezu turns towards the green boy beside him with all of the showmanship that’s come to define his patented introduction, “let me introduce myself! Am I a dog, a rat, or a bear? Either way I am Nezu th-”

“Y-You’re the Intel Hero Nezu,” the green boy says brightly, cutting Nezu’s introduction off even as he rubs raw and bloody palms against his black slacks and starts to dig through his backpack, “You solved the H-Hanamura kidnapping and the Inugami murders! You’re one of my favorite heroes!”

Nezu can’t help the way he stalls out just a bit at that because ... well he’s never been anyone’s favorite anything. Their nightmare yes but not their favorite. Especially not a child. Children around this age normally tend to have more simplistic reactions to him. And most of them don’t know about the string of rather gruesome ritualistic homicides he’d solved or the high profile kidnapping cases he consults on in his down time.

“C-Can you please sign my notebook?” the boy says then, head bowed low and a notebook and pen held out in Nezu’s direction.

Nezu admits to being slightly intrigued when he sees the way the cover is labeled Hero Analysis For The Future Vol 8.

That intrigue only grows when he opens it and his attention is immediately captured by the rather impressively done sketch of Pro Hero Starstreak that he finds there.

Unable to help himself Nezu reads over the page quickly and then keeps going.

Well now, Nezu can’t help but think just a bit gleefully as he sees the absolutely unbelieve level of analysis this young, quirkless boy has compiled, isn’t this interesting.

#BnHA #Anonymous #RayRambles #The Principal's Unexpected Protege AU

650 notes · View notes

tamakissimp · 3 years

Text

B.K- I could never

READ PART ONE HERE

summary: Weeks after meeting Bakugou, you break and call him up for comfort. Unbeknownst to you, he has been dying to hear from you.

warnings: cursing, crying, guilt, Bakugou hating himself?

wordcount: 2099

a/n: the fact that we all just decided that Bakugou smells like caramel is so funny lol

Three weeks, five days, thirteen hours and six minutes. That's how long Bakugou hasn't seen you. To anyone who asked about it, he would groan that he couldn't give a rats ass about you. But he couldn't deny it to himself. Not when he was lying awake at ungodly hours, staring at his phone in hopes that you would call him.

What if you realized how much of a dick he is and decided that you didn't want to see him ever again? The thought of having fucked up after only seeing you for less than three minutes makes his gut curl up. It makes him want to sew his mouth shut to stop the hateful words from flowing out. Every day that passed by without a call from you adds to the pile of guilt building up inside him.

His words never mattered to him. Not when he yelled at his friends. Not when he screams awful words at his parents. Not when he told Izuku to jump off a fucking roof. Never did he think about how his words affected others. But when he saw the tears threatening to fall down your cheeks, the cold and broken look in your eyes, that's when he knew he fucked up.

Ever since that godforsaken day, he hasn't said a mean word to his friends. Irritated ones, sure. But Izukua was suddenly spared from the usual insults. Denki didn't get called a dunce for everything he did. His father suddenly got hugs instead of rants about how pathetic he is. The change was weird and it makes everyone feel uneasy, though it wasn't unwelcome. All of a sudden, Bakugou wasn't associated with anger and insult, now it was just anger.

His damned anger, that seemed to grow with every day. Normally, his anger was pointed at others but now it was pointed at himself. Because he was the jackass that hurt you. He was the asshole that tainted your skin with disgusting words.

Why can you only say such hurtful things? He runs his fingers over those letters that taint his wrist. Even though his room is dark, the blue light coming off his phone is enough to illuminate the space to the point where he can still make out the words. Why could he only say hurtful things? It was a conscious decision that he made. The only thing that drove him into pushing people away was himself.

His ringtone sounds through his room. His body perks up. He reads the number on the screen. Unknown. He doesn't waste a second with answering it. "Hello?" he says. The softness of his voice surprises him.

"Hi," you say. He jumps off his bed. "It's...It's Y/n.". Your voice is still as kind as it was that day. Bakugou's heart skips a couple of beats at the sound of it. He didn't know how much he missed it until now.

"Hello, hi. How-How are you doing?" he asks. He doesn't even try to keep his voice down anymore. The people sleeping around him be damned. You're more important than they will ever be.

"I'm good. I'm great," you say. It stays silent for a couple of seconds. "Actually, I'm not. I'm fucking terrible.". Bakugou remains silent. He's sure that if he says anything, he'll fuck up again. "I know this is weird, like really fucking weird but could you....come over?".

Bakugou clams his phone between his cheek and shoulder and quickly starts pulling his shoes onto his feet. "That's...weird. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," you say. His heart aches at the words. "You know what, just forget it. Forget I called, okay?".

"No," he says firmly. You're silence by him, taking aback for a bit. "I'm coming over, alright? Text me your address.". It isn't a question, it's a command. You need him. You're doing bad, something in you wanted him there so he well crosses all the seven seas just to get to you.

"Okay, okay. Yeah, I'll do that," you say. Bakugou hums in acknowledgement as he closes the door of his dorm behind him. "I'm gonna hang up now, okay? And I'll...I guess I'll see you in a bit.".

"I'll see you," he says. The click of you ending the call bounces through his ears before he grabs his phone and opens his messages. The address you sent him is all too familiar. The general studies dorm. Curses fly out under his breath as he roughly stuffs his phone into the pocket of his sweatpants. He doesn't have time to wait for the elevator. Instead, he runs towards the stairs.

Bakugou runs down the stairs with a speed that would put Iida to shame. While the walk to the general studies dorms would normal take him five minutes, Bakugou manages to do it in under two. He finds you already standing outside of the building. A blanket is wrapped around your body. The hood of your hoodie is pulled over your head, covering your hair.

As he gets closer and closer to you, the state you're in becomes more clear to him. Your eyes are bloodshot, your chin is wobbling and dried tears have stained your cheeks. Even though you look like you're one second away from breaking, there is still a smile on your lips. That damned smile that makes Bakugou's heart skip a beat. "Hey," you say.

Bakugou doesn't say anything. Instead, he pulls you against his chest. His arms wrap around you, head burying in the crook of your neck. The sudden human contact was all you needed to be pushed over the edge. Another stream of tears rushes down your cheeks. Sobs shake through your bones as you bite your lip to keep the sounds in. It's only when the disgusting taste of blood fills your mouth that you let the sounds go.

Pathetic whimpers and sniffles ring through the night as you bury your face into Bakugou's chest. The smell of burnt caramel floods your nose and calms you down. Who knew something so sweet could be so comforting?

"Let it all out," Bakugou whispers. His hands run up and down your spine. Everything feels foreign to him. He is never one to comfort others, though, with you, it comes naturally. His body immediately knows how to calm you down and bring you back to a relaxed state.

You whisper apologies out in between sobs and ragged breaths. Even when you're falling apart in front of a total stranger you're still trying to comfort him. Running your fingers through his hair, saying praises through your apologies. It all tugs onto Bakugou's heart. Nothing in him should deserve someone as kind as you. Yet the universe still decided to tie you to together through an eternal bound of your souls.

Bakugou grabs your wrist and brings it up to his lips, gently placing a kiss onto your soulmate marks. Those words. Those words that caused you so much pain and made you fear for the moment you would meet your soulmate. Those words that he put there.

"Don't be sorry," Bakugou says. "Don't ever be sorry for feeling. Don't be sorry for crying. Got it?". You nod at him. He gently wipes the tears off your face with his thumb. "If you feel shitty, you come to me. You come to me and you do anything that helps.".

You pull away from Bakugou, now standing in front of him. It's only now that you notice his bare arms. He forgot to grab a jacket in his rush. You peel the blanket off your shoulder and hold it out to him. He shakes his head but you just push it closer to him. "Please," you say. He rolls his eyes before taking the plush material from you.

Bakugou wraps it over his shoulder. He was probably going to regret only wearing a tank top tomorrow but right now, he didn't care. "Idiot," he says as he snuggles further into the blanket. "You're going to catch a cold.". You just shake your head as you stuff your hands into the front pouch of your hoodie.

"No, you are," you say. The tears have stopped flowing down your cheeks and a smile adorns them now instead.

"Gonna tell me what's going on?" Bakugou asks. You nod, staring down at the ground. You start to fiddle with your hand. Bakugou lifts his hand and places two fingers on the underside of your chin. He lifts your head up to force you to look at him. "Come on.".

"I'm so sorry for making you wait," you say. Bakugou is taken aback by your words. "I'm your soulmate for fucks sake. And I just ignored you for weeks, that's such an asshole thing to do. I'm sorry.".

Bakugou cups your face. He shakes his head. You stare into his red eyes. There's a certain softness hidden behind the fire burning in them. "Don't. Be. Sorry," Bakugou says. The words are hard for him to say. He never opens himself up to people. Up until a few weeks ago, he did nothing but hurdle insults at people like it was nothing.

It was the only thing he knew how to do; be a bully. Yet here he is. Holding his soulmate like they're made of glass. Afraid to say anything because the has already fucked up the very second he met them. He has permanently marked them with the insults he uses.

"You aren't supposed to be sorry," he continues. "You're supposed to be fucking mad at me. You're supposed to hate me, not be sorry.". You shake your head at his words. You reach your hands up to runs them over his face. Your pointer fingers smooth out the furrow of his brow.

"I could never," you whisper. Bakugou's chin wobbles at your words. Vulnerability is new to him. Just saying these words feel like he's ripping his chest open and showing you his heart.

He's waiting for you to reach in and pull it out. For you to throw his heart on the ground and stomp on it. Instead, you gently stroke it. You say loving words to him while he did nothing to deserve them."How could I hate my soulmate?".

✨bonus✨

The bright sun shines into your skin. Crisp air bites into your nose yet the cold doesn't seem to phase you. Bakugou's hand is intertwined with yours. You smile at him as he continues to talk about his day.

"So Kiri just came out of nowhere with five fucking bowls of noodles because that idiot order way too fucking much," Bakugou says. You nod at him. Months ago, Bakugou would have referred to his friend as 'shitty hair' or some other demeaning nickname. Now, Kirishima got the privilege of having a kinder nickname; Kiri.

Bakugou looks down at you while you keep on smiling at him. "What's up with the goofy look?" he asks. One of his brows is raised. You shake your head as a giggle escapes your lips. Bakugou's heart warms up at the sound. Even now, months after knowing you, the sounds still make him feel lovesick.

"Nothing," you say. You give his hand a gentle squeeze. You move your eyes from his handsome face to the birds flying out of the tree around you. "Just glad that you're here.".

A blush dusts over Bakugou's cheeks. Every cell in his body is set afire. All he can do is stop walking and pull you into a tight hug. You don't hesitate to return it. His body clings into your almost desperately.

"You always say such sappy shit," he mumbles into your hair. You just laugh as you wiggle yourself out of his grasp a bit. Your hand reaches up to gently stroke his cheek. Bakugou stares into your eyes with a passion you didn't know existed until that cold night outside of your dorms. "I love you," he whispers.

You stay silent for a second. Your mind is too busy with admiring his beauty to register his words. Did he just say that he loves you? Nervousness washes through Bakugou's body. Did he say it too soon? What if you don't love him? Did he fuck up?

"I love you too," you say. Those words shut up every doubt in his mind. A dorky smile spreads over his lips before he pulls you in for a kiss. His kisses are normally rough and hungry. This one is different. It's gently and filled to the brim with love. He pulls away after a few moments. "I love you too," you repeat.

403 notes · View notes

cottoncandyjester · 2 years

Note

PLEASE INTRODUCE US TO POTATO AND NUGGET IM BEGGING ON MY KNEES JUST A SLIVER OF CONTENT--

How could I say no to an anon on their knees for me~

Im not promising any content about these two but it’s amusing to talk about them

Warning this contains:. Talk of violence and murder

Kent aka “potato”

Certified dumbass

Was nicknamed potato cause he’s as dumb as one

Him and nugget usually do the grunt work

Simple things like assisting the others or doing pretty much anything the others don’t want to do which is usually clean up

Potato is good at tech though

His greatest creation is a hot potato bomb that explodes if it’s not constantly moving once activated…not even kidding he took the hot potato game to another level

Is actually VERY good at building but they never remember actually building anything

He blacks out and when he wakes up it’s all done

Nugget calls him French fry sometimes cause of his blonde hair

He’s the louder one out of the two

And the one with zero home training

He once headbutted a child cause they said that iron man was lame

Cause of that he’s banned from their local store

Has and will bite when he feels threatened

Dante once yelled at him so he bit his arm before running off

Constantly smells like slightly burnt caramel

Nugget gave him the goggles and he never takes them off..never

Has a bad biting issue

When lost in thought he is biting his hands til they bleed

Had to wear a cone around his head a few times cause of it

His experiments explodes at least once or twice…a day

Out of the two potato is more hostile

Has intense PTSD

Cause of this children crying causes them to go completely feral

Their first thought is to stop the crying aka kill the child

Children in general is a sore topic for him they both scare and annoy him

Wears a leash backpack whenever he has to go out in public

Has and will rip someone’s throat out with his teeth cause of this a muzzle is also placed on him when he gets too excited

The reason he’s so feral is cause he can’t differentiate normal bubbly excitement and bloodlust excitement so when excited he could get confused and accidentally kill someone

He’s adorable when he isn’t trying to rip someone’s eyes out

Rocky aka “nugget”

A genderfluid baby

Amab but a lot of people don’t realize it due to their androgynous voice

At an early age they had surgery to get their ears the shape they are

His thinking legit was “why be only a girl or boy when I can be an elf..I’m gonna be an elf!”

They are missing their arms and legs and use prosthetics

From their elbow down its metal arms and knee down its metal legs

They tend to be careless with their body cause of this

So they break their prosthetics probably once a day

Blind in one eye

Her favorite phrase is “I’m not supposed to be alive..I just hope when I finally die it’s utterly beautiful”

They don’t see their own life as special or meaningful so they are constantly throwing themselves in danger to protect the others

Potato is the one who fixes their limbs up and in exchange they protect him and help him with his inventions

Loves to dance and music in general

In their free time that’s what they do

Several of the members caught them twirling around an empty room while playing an ocarina just living their best elven lifestyle

He has a whole collection of ocarinas some they carved themselves and some they crafted via pottery but they were all handmade

Is slightly smarter than potato..but is still hella stupid

Favorite weapon is a hunting crossbow

Has the worst Spanish speaking skills due to them being from brazil and not a Spanish speaking country like the others

So whenever someone speaks Spanish infront of them they tend to aggressively shout or make noise to stop the conversation..yknow like a dumbass

#yandere imagines #yandere ocs #yandere #Dante’s gang #intro post #introduction post

20 notes · View notes

wzrd-wheezes · 3 years

Text

My Jumper! Pt 1: Fred Weasley x Reader

“In her dreams there was a man. A tall man, with a pretty face and fiery red hair. His face sported a cheeky grin accompanied by some freckles dotted across his nose. When Y/N woke up from her nap, she had forgotten about her dream completely. That was until the same man appeared in her dream the next night. And that night after that…”

Fred x Reader Fluff .Warnings: swearing .1.7k words

Masterlist here

Part 2 Here

AN - I really want to do a part two of this so please let me know if that’s something you’d be interested in!

Taglist: (pls let me know if you want adding for future fics!)

@amourtentiaa

Y/N’s hands were clammy as she gripped onto the cardboard box she was carrying. She walked into the house, kicking the door shut behind her and set the box on the floor. This was it. She had finally moved out from her parent’s house and into her own place. New houses often seem eerie and daunting with their plain walls and unfurnished rooms. However, this particular house felt welcoming, like it had been lived in, but not in a bad way. In a way that made each room feel like memories had been made in it. As she walked through each room, she noted bits of furniture that had been left behind, a plush green sofa in the living room, an old closet in her bedroom, and a large dining table in the kitchen. She smiled as she looked around. She didn’t have the patience for flatpack furniture right now. Even magic couldn’t make assembling it bearable.

It took Y/N a few days to fully unpack and feel settled in her new home. She had never lived by herself before and the past few days she had fought off the loneliness by filling her time with doing jobs around the house. Luckily for her, the house didn’t need too much doing to it, just a splash of paint here and there and some new furniture. It was one night when she was laying in bed that she noticed a particularly dark stain on her ceiling. She waved her wand, trying to remove it but the mark was stubborn and stayed put.

The next morning, Y/N rolled out of bed and decided that she was going to try and tackle the stain on her ceiling. She trudged into the bathroom and rifled through the cabinet looking for some sort of cleaning product. As she searched, her hand brushed over something unfamiliar. In an attempt to pull it out to examine it, she sent the entire contents of the shelf cascading to the floor. She winced as something bounced off of her head and smashed on the tiles.

“How the fuck did that get there?” She swore, picking up a fragment of glass and inspecting it. It was a deep purple colour, bits of what looked like an old label still stuck to a large section which lay on the floor. An earthy yet sweet smell spread through the room. Aftershave. Sighing, she grabbed a cloth out of the cabinet and began to mop up the mess. She could have sworn that the bottle of aftershave wasn’t in there when she had unpacked her things.

The scent seemed to linger in her house for days. It was almost a week later when she got another whiff of it as she lay on the sofa in the living room. The smell was strong but sweet, a sort of burnt vanilla. She didn’t mind it too much, in fact, every time the smell of the aftershave would waft through the house, it would bring a smile to her face. Y/N was due back at work in a few days, so she decided to spend her last few days of freedom lounging on the sofa in front of the television. It was while one particularly bad muggle programme playing that she fell asleep. She was dreaming as she napped, slipping in and out of consciousness as the television played on in the background. In her dreams there was a man. A tall man, with a pretty face and fiery red hair. His face sported a cheeky grin accompanied by some freckles dotted across his nose. When Y/N woke up from her nap, she had forgotten about her dream completely. That was until the same man appeared in her dream the next night. And that night after that…

“He must have just been in that stupid Muggle programme I was watching the other day,” she grumbled as she lay in bed, staring at the mark on her ceiling that had yet to vanish, “Yeah, that’s it. That’s where I know him from.”

She drifted off back to sleep for a few moments before she jolted upright.

“Shit.”

She had forgotten that she had her first shift back at work today. Y/N didn’t have a fancy job as an Auror or anything like that. She worked in a coffee shop a few streets away from her house and she loved it. She glanced over at her alarm clock as she stumbled out of bed, she only had twenty minutes to get to work. Rushing over to her wardrobe, she fumbled around in the dark for a few moments before pulling out a jumper. The jumper was knitted and a deep red colour, she didn’t recognise it but she didn’t have time to faff around looking for something else so she threw it on and dashed out of the door.

It was a steady day. Customers came in to get their drinks and then seated themselves at tables to read books or to work on projects or just to relax in the gentle hum of the coffee shop. The sun was beaming through the large glass windows, shining light through the petals of the flowers that sat on shelves. Y/N was leaning against the counter, day dreaming as she looked out of the window when the ringing of the bell on the door snapped her out of her thoughts. Her eyes shot up to the person that walked in, her vision was slightly blurred from looking out into the bright light.

“Morning,” the man grinned as he approached the counter, “Could I have two caramel lattes with an extra shot, please?”

It took Y/N a few moments to reply to him, she was sure she knew his face from somewhere. She just couldn’t place him.

“Yeah, no worries,” she smiled. Merlin, he was handsome.

“I like your jumper,” he gestured towards it, “My Mum always knits us a jumper each for Christmas,”

“Oh, really?” Y/N replied, “that’s really cute. What’s your name by the way?”

“My name?” he raised an eyebrow at her and smirked.

“Yeah…” she blushed, “For- for your drinks.” The man chuckled and shook his head.

“It’s Fred.”

Y/N turned around to make his drinks and Fred moved to the other end of the counter to wait. It was silent for a few moments as Y/N measured out the caramel syrups into the cups.

“My jumper!” Fred exclaimed.

“What?” Y/N turned round quickly to look at him.

“That’s my jumper.”

“Is this supposed to be some sort of cheesy pick up line?” she raised her eyebrows at him.

“No, no, no,” he laughed, “you’re literally wearing my jumper. Look, turn around,”

Y/N turned around to catch a glimpse of herself in the shiny metal of the coffee machine. A large gold ‘F’ was knitted into the wool.

“How the..?” her face flushed red furiously.

“Where did you get that?” Fred asked, looking amused.

“It was just in my wardrobe this morning. I didn’t think I recognised it,” she forced out an awkward laugh, “I have no idea how it got there,”

“Me either,” he smiled.

“I finish in a few minutes so I can go home and change so I can give this back to you,” she was still blushing intensely, “I’m so sorry,”

“It’s fine,” he grinned, “It looks better on you anyway.”

His last comment lingered in her mind as she gathered her things from the staffroom and shrugged on her coat. Fred was waiting outside for her, leaning coolly against the wall. The sun was setting as they walked back to Y/N’s house.

“Have you just moved here, then?” Fred asked, making small talk with her.

“Yeah, I only moved in a little while ago,” she answered, “it’s just round this corner.”

As they rounded the corner, Fred stopped in his tracks.

“That’s why you found my jumper in your wardrobe then.”

“What?” Y/N opened the front door and let Fred in.

“This used to be my house. My brother and I used to live here,” he looked around the living room, “We’ve moved back above our shop now. I do miss this place though,”

“Ah, so it’s your aftershave that’s stank my house out then?” she joked.

“Aftershave?” he looked at her quizzically.

“Yeah, the purple bottle?” she went to her cabinet and grabbed a fragment of the glass that she had saved. She handed it to him and he studied it, turning it over and over in his hands.

“I have this bottle at home,” he said, still staring at it intently, “I used it this morning, so I don’t know how it’s got into your cabinet,”

“Oh?” she frowned a little, “I’m going to go up and change,”

She didn’t realise that Fred had followed her up to her bedroom until she had turned around to grab another shirt.

“Merlin, you made me jump,” she said startled, quickly throwing her shirt on before he could see too much of her. He just smiled and crossed the room to where her bed was. He pointed up at the ceiling.

“Good to know that that mark is still there,” he chuckled.

“I can’t get rid of it. Not even with magic. How did you even do it?”

“Well, my brother and I own this joke shop, you see. One day we were testing out some products in here and they kind of exploded…”

Fred ended up staying with Y/N for dinner. They lost hours and hours chatting, later learning that Y/N was in the year below him at Hogwarts.

“I should probably get going,” Fred said, getting up, “Is it okay if I keep this?”

He showed her the fragment of his aftershave bottle that she had saved.

“Of course, it is yours after all,” she smiled.

Fred stopped for a moment as he got to her front door.

“I know this sounds odd,” he bit his lip nervously, “but I feel like we were supposed to meet… My stuff showing up in your house, you wearing my jumper to work and me coming in. It’s just strange, don’t you think?”

“Magic works in strange ways,” she grinned.

“I’d really like to see you again Y/N,”

“I’d like that a lot,”

“Wicked.”

#Fred Weasley x reader #Fred Weasley x y/n #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley #fred and george weasley #weasley twins

364 notes · View notes

blahblahblahhhhhhhhhhhhhh · 3 years

Text

18+ content

Bakugo x reader, Izuku x reader (reader is female) smut ahead (this is my first fan fic so be nice please)

Izuku was a great boyfriend, kind, gentle, and sweet. But, that was part of the problem. He would never get rough or aggressive with you even if you wanted him to. You tried so many times to aggravate him and make him punish you but it never worked. You needed more. He was always soft and gentle during sex but you needed him to be rough. But that wasn’t who he was so you never pushed him on it. He was so sweet and innocent it made you feel guilty to even want to “corrupt” him. You felt so many emotions go through your mind any time you two were intimate together. You wish you could just enjoy it but it became harder with time. You couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Zuku,” you started, waiting for him to meet your gaze. “Yes, y/n?” Your face began to feel hot. “I- I need you to be rougher.” You hid your face in embarrassment. “Rougher? What do you mean?” Ugh you wish you never said anything. “In bed,” you squeaked. He blushed a little before replying, “you know I can’t do that to you.” You really should’ve just kept quiet. Without responding you walked away and locked yourself in the bedroom. Of course, he followed and persistently asked for you to let him in. You finally gave in. “I really want to make you happy but I don’t want to hurt you,” he said.

You didn’t respond and instead began kissing him passionately. He withdrew at first but then melted into you. You began to tug at the buttons on his shirt. Stopping for a moment you grabbed his hand and placed it on your breast to encourage him to do the same. He slowly and carefully removed your shirt while you ripped his off. Then you backed up towards the bed pulling him along with you until he fell on top of you. “Zuku,” you whined, “please.” You were getting impatient and took both of your pants off in one quick swoop, leaving you both in your underwear. You wrapped your legs around him and began rutting against him. Then, you felt him hard against you. He took down your panties and began kissing you down your stomach, inching towards your clit. He didn’t take much time to tease you, though you wish he did. He straight away began making circles around your clit with his tongue meanwhile he placed a finger inside you. He began to create a steady rhythm as you moaned. Craving more, you grinded against his face, hoping to cause him to be rougher. Instead he continued his pace while you continued trying to gain more friction. Finally you had enough and pulled him back up. “Zuku… please I need it.” He pulled down his boxers and finally entered you which caused you to moan at how sudden he did. While he was trying to create a slow and steady rhythm you bounced against him to create a faster rhythm. “Baby,” he cooed, “just let me take care of you.” You didn’t stop though. You kept humping him harder and faster causing him to moan your name in a way you never heard before. This only spurred you on. You fucked him faster and faster til you were both cumming and moaning each other’s names. He rolled off of you and asked “what’s gotten into?” “I already told you, I need more Zuku,” you replied. Despite seeming to enjoy it Izuku didn’t seem convinced. Then he held you and you guys cuddled like you always do until you fall asleep.

The next morning you got up early, even earlier than Izuku and left for work frustrated. You loved him so much he was perfect in every way but one. When you arrived at your office you didn’t expect to see anyone there. However, Bakugo was there and he was surprised to see you as well. “What are you doing here so early?” He said gruffly. You weren’t sure what to say. “Just wanting to start my day early,” you lied. He wasn’t buying it. “Bullshit,” he said, “you never show up early. What’s going on?” Not sure why you told him, “I’m frustrated.” He prodded, “cause of shitty Deku?” You tried to deny it, but he wasn’t stupid. He pried it out of you that the problem was your sex life and right after you said that you regretted it immediately as a grin began to grow on his face. He laughed. “Duh Deku’s a loser of course he doesn’t know how to please you.” Your face grew hotter and hotter by the second. He could tell he was embarrassing you and found it so amusing as he continued teasing. Just then, Izuku came through the door. “Whatcha guys talking about?” He asked. Bakugo smiled almost evilly. You gave him a cold glare, but it didn’t stop him. Kacchan laughed and blurted, “talking about how you don’t know how to pleasure her.” Your face was getting so hot you thought you might die as you turned to see your boyfriend’s reaction. He looked puzzled then slightly angry. “That’s none of your business,” he started, “and I do pleasure her.” “That’s not what she told me,” Katsuki retorted. You were beyond embarrassed and wanted so badly to run away from this ridiculous situation but your feet didn’t move. “Why do you care Bakugo?” Izuku wondered. “I don’t,” he huffed. “Obviously you do, inserting your nose where it doesn’t belong.” You’ve never seen Izuku like this, why can’t he be assertive like this in bed you thought. “I bet I could pleasure her,” Katsuki grinned. Wait what? What did he say? Has this turned into some weird competition?

Your thinking was stunted when you swooped off your feet and place on the desk. “Watch you might learn something, Deku,” Bakugo said as he stood over you with his gigantic, muscular body. You couldn’t deny he was attractive and you wouldn’t mind, but what about Izuku? Izuku didn’t seem to be fighting instead, it almost seemed he was ready to take notes. This is ridiculous you thought to yourself. Interrupted by Bakugo leaning into you and asking, “is this okay?” You looked at your boyfriend and back at Bakugo. “Yes,” you said meekly. He wasted no time tearing you clothes off as you began to tug at his. Leaving you on his desk in your underwear while he was only in his boxers. You could see a big bulge against his boxers only making you even more restless. You pulled his head to meet yours and began kissing him. He did not like you initiating this and quickly reminded you who was in control as he ripped your panties and shoved two fingers inside. You yelped due to his sudden contact. “Damn, already dripping, what a fucking slut,” he grunted. This caused your cunt to clench against his fingers and drive them deeper inside. Trying to gain more friction you writhed under him but this only angered him. “Sit still slut!” He spanked your thigh and left a burning sensation as the room began to smell like burnt caramel. He moved his mouth to your neck and began sucking and biting, leaving your neck all marked up he then began making a trail down your body. He lapped at your inner thigh teasing you as you writhed with anticipation. “What did I say about moving?” He said as he bit your thigh. He slowly moved his tongue to your outer lips and began teasing and tasting them. Despite his warnings you couldn’t helped but grind against his face, earning you another slap on the thigh. “Deku you need to train your woman to behave.” He grabbed your jaw with force and made you look at him as he began to circle you clit with his tongue. He was so talented, you immediately began moaning. “Ahh Bakugo-“ “Katsuki,” he growled. He began inserting his fingers in you watching the way the slipped in and out of you with ease as you dripped onto his desk. “Dirty slut hasn’t even taken my cock yet and is making a mess, how pathetic.” You almost forgot your boyfriend was there as you made eye contact with him, this angered Bakugo. “Look at me shitty woman.” He trailed down your pussy right to your entrance and began fucking it with his tongue. “F-fuck Baku- Katsuki” he began doing it faster and used his other hand to rub your clit. You felt yourself coming close to your climax. Bakugo must’ve known this and he stopped. You whined, “Katsuki please don’t stop I- I need it. I was so close.” He evilly grinned, “you’re not cumming until I say so.”

#katsuki smut #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki smut #izuku x reader #izuku midoria x reader #mha smut #izuku smut

59 notes · View notes