Tumgik
takes1 · 2 months
Note
Bakugou has a crush on popular!fem!Senpai!reader. I love the idea of ​​him trying to keep up with his senpai (senpai has no idea about his feelings, of course). maybe a little angst and where senpai's male classmates know about his feelings but don't see him as a threat because they think it's just puppy love and don't take him seriously
i took it in a slightly different direction, but hope it still holds up. kept the themes the same at least! 1st year bakugou/3rd year reader, puppy love, that sort of thing. tried to honor the angsty part, too. hope this does the job!
Tumblr media
warnings. heavy alcohol consumption, suggestive petting details. sfw / nsfw to follow in p.2 / some suggestive petting / afterparty/houseparty / shadowing / mentor!reader / 3rdyear!reader / 'unrequited' love / puppy love / bakugou being a lightweight / sweaty bakugou / 1.6k words 🤍 scenario series. i have so much bakugou, please go check all of those scenarios out! / there will be a part 2 to this! / bakugou headcanons more links. my ao3
Tumblr media
*shadow week: when a student follows and observes a third-year for a short period of time, such as a day or a week, for training purposes
The afterparty was much more crowded than you realized; the usual rule against first-years had been reversed in the spirit of shadow week. Right on the coattails of that stiff internship mixer, it was a pretty fitting way to finish out the week.
With the addition of a more excitable crowd, the general vibe was intense, loud, and near dizzying. It wasn't really your style.
You opted for watching, nursing something strong. Dancing, screaming, and the like was better far away. You didn't have the energy tonight, but you needed to make sure your shadow got to see what something like this entailed so the tradition might live after your class graduates.
Of course, you lost him almost immediately. He was steaming, almost itching to get away from you as he had been all week. The randomization process of choosing Mentors and Shadows faired unfavorable to you, because you couldn't have asked for a more difficult person to train.
It was an hour in and you still sat in your spot, surrounded by your closer friends who shared the same temperament about tonight in particular. Some normally big personalities took it easy in the presence of the younger crowd.
Togata settled in next to you with a big sigh.
"What's cookin' good lookin'?"
Your snort turned into an actual laugh. That's how you knew you were feeling it.
"Nothing much," You glanced around the room, half-concerned about your Shadow, "You seen that Bakugou kid?"
Togata rolled his eyes with a smirk.
"Probably left as soon as he realized a 'rager' meant a good time."
You both shared a chuckle and went on to talk about anything else.
Bakugou did, in fact, have a different idea of what this afterparty was going to be like. But his inhibitions had melted away long ago when he, unknowingly, began to drink a loaded cup.
He had inadvertently pissed off the guy in charge of the cooler with his usual attitude, and got himself the nastiest-tasting diet coke imaginable.
Bakugou didn't know any better. He believed this was a new disgusting flavor the Coca-Cola company came out with on the tails of their coffee bullshit, so something reminiscent of cinnamon didn't set off any red flags.
Thanks to this drink, easier to get down by the minute, he did seem to be having a better time at the party than he thought he would.
For a while, after the buzz melted away his better judgement, he searched for you, but quickly became distracted when he found some of his peers dancing fervently to a karaoke song.
The sight of Sero, Kirishima, and Kaminari going crazy to a shitty, dated pop song made a rare grin spread over his face. It felt funny smiling, so he laughed and the unfamiliar sound from behind them caught their attention.
They all looked relieved to see him, somewhat amused, in on a joke he didn't quite understand.
Sero laughed after he greeted them and exchanged charged looks with Kaminari-
"Dude-haha, Bakugou-- what's up with you-?" Kaminari giggled under his hand.
Everyone was laughing, the music was so loud, and he felt good.
"I dunno!" He yelled and swung to grab Sero's shoulder.
The tallest of them flinched embarrassingly hard with a short, alarmed noise, but was met with droves of laughter from the rest of his friends. Bakugou was the loudest among them.
He had to catch his breath and leaned back with a hand on his neck. He raked his hands through his hair, a little dizzy, a little heavy, and somewhat confused, "Fuck! I feel so good!!"
His eyes were big as he finished his cup. Kirishima grabbed it from him after he was done and smelled it. He muttered something under his breath, but nobody saw.
"Yeeesss!! I fucking LOVE this song ohmygod," Bakugou belted, but hardly even loud compared to the booming bass behind him.
His well-muscled arms dropped, and he turned with vigor and pointed glee to the first person he saw.
It briefly occurred to him that something wasn't right. The way his perception grew fuzzy wasn't normal but he couldn't keep a worried thought for long enough to actually get worried.
You were leaning against the counter from your barstool. You looked mellowed- buzzed, and relaxed. Your crooked smile was partial to Togata, the big, burly blond consistently at your side. You shared a slow, intimate conversation that Bakugou very much wanted a part of.
"Hey!" He exclaimed, dodging a supportive hand from Kirishima, and stumbled towards the two highest ranking in the room.
He approached faster than he intended.
His hands landed to catch himself on your parted lower thighs, but he was heavier under the influence and leaned a little far forward. There were about ten of you swirling around the room.
Your stomach pooled with a warm, fast buzz that spread a blush from ear to ear.
Bakugou was coated in a thin layer of musky sweat, no doubt from the combination of his loaded drink and intense dancing.
He was panting softly, eyes lidded when he caught himself on you, his handsome, chiseled face tilted in a drunken daze. Your heart was beating between your legs as you looked each other up and down simultaneously.
Oooh, man.
You hardened up, just a little, and cocked your head to the side, "You feelin' alright, bud?"
Your hand raked through his sweaty, spiky hair, and his entire body shifted to that side. He hummed, smiling, and gripped your plush thighs harder. Fuck, you were warm, and strong; he wanted to fall asleep here.
A larger, scarred hand grabbed the first-year's shirt.
"I think he's had too much."
You looked up at Togata, radiating irritation with a face that didn't match. Your stomach twisted again and you shifted in your seat, which in turn shifted Bakugou.
As he moved to pull Bakugou off, you got another whiff of that sweet smell. That must've been from his Quirk, afterall.
Your head fell back with a sigh while he was beginning to be escorted away by a kind, although a little patronizing, Togata.
Bakugou popped him with a shout and you jumped up- thankfully most people were also screaming to the song, which helped to soften the blow of the tense scene playing out in front of you.
"You need to leave, kid," The older of the two asserted, despite the singe on his shoulder from where he was pushed.
The both looked frilled and ready to make a scene.
Bakugou squinted up at him.
Before he could spit out a horrible insult, or threat, or anything else bubbling beneath the surface, you placed your hand on his wavering shoulder and took up the space in his vision in front of Togata.
"Hey," You said gently, eyes dodging around his very clear signs of heavy drinking, "Hey--,"
"Hey," It sounded almost like a question coming out of his mouth.
Togata moved back. This was something out of his jurisdiction; you were technically in charge of the kid, anyway.
Knotted muscles loosened against your touch, heavy and uneven. He watched, focusing and then glazed again on your pretty bottom lip. It was quiet for a moment between you.
His infatuation; your concern.
"Have you been drinking?"
He shook his head, concern on his brow for a moment-- but it disappeared in a moment's notice. It almost didn't make sense; you tossed the idea that he didn't want to tell you, but then you made the realization of what had actually happened as he swayed, entranced under your gaze.
"Let's…" Your brow furrowed and you glanced around, "Let's get you back to your room."
You wore a distrustful, upturned expression at the sea of patrons. His redhead friend jogged by your side for a moment, about to ask where you were going, but instead of answering, you took the cup out of his hand and threw it in the trash on your way out.
Somebody thought it'd be funny to get some first-years shit-faced. Normally you'd agree about it humorous quality, but this was your shadow. Technically your responsibility for the week.
From the looks of it, he had never touched alcohol before.
It was a cool and breezy walk back to his dorm building. The quiet night gave you space to slow for a while, ask some questions.
"How are you feeling?"
He was out of breath just walking. His stammered for a moment but didn't notice. "Good…good-good, really great."
The anger he usually wore was practically a memory now. His small, permanent frown was the only reminder.
It took 6 minutes for what would've been a 3-minute walk. His hand missed the handle to open the door and you had to catch him, then twist to open it yourself. He didn't help you at all even though you suspected he had the capacity to.
"Alright," You strained, arms locked under his- he was incredibly dense, impossibly warm, and at the moment, very lazy. He melted into you at an awkward angle, breath dancing against the shell of your ear.
Getting him all the way up the stairs was going to take a million years.
219 notes · View notes
takes1 · 2 months
Text
p.3 himbo!kirishima x petite!reader (gymbros series: rest day)
featuring aged up!kiri with growth spurt and long hair. i've actually had this in the drafts for a couple years, it's just that i didn't write an exposition and got straight to the point lmao. next part is on the way
Tumblr media
warnings. nsfw, nearly f! oral, grinding, biting, mentions of mathematics
details. nsfw / gymbros with benefits/ aged up!kiri / fem!reader / mentions of f! masturbation / almost facesitting / mutual size kink / shy reader / support course student!reader / scars thirst / sharp teeth thirst / bakugou doesn't knock / 4.5k words
🤍 scenario series. part one / part two / kiri headcanons
more links. my ao3
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The next few workouts grew increasingly more distracting and less efficient. Kirishima made it a point to talk more, get closer to you when not always necessary, and encourage you in ways he wouldn't use with other people who came to join.
You had moved to working out with varying amounts of Hero Course students that he introduced as his friends, too, all eager to meet you, in the Hero-specific gym.
This night wasn't the first time you visited his dorm room. The first was about five days prior when he invited you up to take a shower in his room.
Nothing 'happened,' but the whole experience was enough to fuel your fantasies for a few nights and make it evident that he wanted you, very badly and under any tangible excuse, in his bedroom.
It was Thursday night, and you had next to nothing else to do, so when he called, you picked up after a few rings and a deep breath.
(Y/n)!
He sounded so happy to say your name.
"Eijiro!" You smiled, not quite as excitable, but you did your best.
You busy tonight?
He laughed just off of the microphone, and you heard some other voices. He told one of them to shush, and another to go away. Your brow furrowed. It was one thing if he wanted you to come over, but another if you were hanging out with his friends.
Hello?
"Depends," You trailed, fingers fidgeting with your pajamas.
Iiiii was just wonderin' if you'd come hang for a while. No workout or anything.
His voice was a little sing-songy. It was extremely cute. While you were trying to rub the smile off of your face, he continued.
Just us.
"Yea-h," You answered, breathless.
It took a while to get ready to your liking after he let you off the phone. Thankfully, you showered earlier, so in the time it took to get dressed and out the door, he called again to ask if he needed to come get you.
You told him that wouldn't be necessary, as flattering as it was, and it took another minute to get him to hang up.
The Support Course housing wasn't too far away from his, you knew the way, and it was certainly not a dangerous walk, but when you turned the only corner of the walk, a familiar heavy-footed redhead was there to take you the remainder of the way.
"I should've walked with you the whole way!" He insisted when you told him his chivalry was appreciated, but not needed.
Surely he had safety as a primary concern. His Hero-centered brain was certain something might happen on the ten-minute walk over.
It was an animated walk to the dorms with this chatterbox next to you, but nothing compared to the chaos inside. Most students were gathered in the common area, loud and boisterous, all confirming your anxieties.
Kirishima picked up on this and kept a hand on your shoulder as you both passed, mostly unnoticed, through the busiest area near the entryway.
When the door closed, and the moment of relief was gone, you were a bit unsure of yourself. His company in public, or the gym, was one thing, but completely alone, behind a door?
You texted a friend where you were just in case.
But upon further inspection, he had prepared a silly movie and some snacks for you. His beanbag was what you were most excited about, but you kept it cool and only sat down at the soonest opportunity it could look natural. He took a seat on a small mat next to it and leaned on the bag. He was too big to share it with you but still wanted to be close.
The movie was menial compared to how much you both talked through it.
You got on the topic of perception and types, attractiveness, and the like. He had a difficult time understanding how you found him pretty and manly.
"What?" He laughed; he'd never been called that before. He liked it, but prompted you to explain.
He twisted his body to meet yours, already close on the floor right next to you.
"Well, you know-- you know," You tried to express, hand darting back to your side after leaving its resting place on his massive shoulder.
It was so much harder to compliment him when he wouldn't just take it. You sunk lower into the beanbag.
Part of him knew, you could hear it in the clip at the end of his sentences, a subtle request for you to keep making a fool of yourself.
"I don't think I do," He nabbed one of your wrists, his smile spreading when he found a similar one on your face and placed it back on his shoulder.
His eyes were eating you up, the inside of his own cheek offered as tribute in order to satiate his nerves.
"Well," You pushed a curious thumb into his ample flesh and tried to control a quick sigh, "You're... attractive."
"Attractive?" Kirishima repeated, amused and intrigued by your slow admission.
Quicker, a little panicked, you tried to rationalize it out loud, "Yeah, my friends think you are-- you're conventionally attractive, like it's not a secret or anything, everyone thinks you're hot."
An unsure hand slid, pressing here and there, over his squishy, thick bicep. You could barely fit your fingers all the way around it. There were an array of stretch marks, dark to light, all over his arms, chest, and on his tummy.
Maybe mentioning your friends was a wrong move, because now it sounded like you had gushed about him and showed pictures of him-- something you totally did do, but he didn't need to know that.
In your quick explanation, you couldn't keep quiet because you didn't want to hear his reply yet, so you just kept going, "A tall guy with huge muscles, and-- a big smile, with good hugs, who's really sweet, and considerate, and is open-minded and asks questions. I mean, who wouldn't like you?"
You had to suck in a breath, and in doing so, realized everything you said just as he did.
"Well, you make a pretty solid case," He laughed. He was blushing-- blushing, and had to look away from you.
This wasn't your first rodeo with a big guy, but it was certainly the most exciting. There was something about his soft, silly demeanor that held a chokehold on your heart.
He stood up and offered a hand to take you with him. But he pulled a tad too hard and you stumbled against him. He smiled, bashful still.
"What-uh, what else do you like?"
Your head was spinning. Maybe he wasn't so confident? Was that it? You were usually the one to break eye contact, but your clumsy, stupid words seemed to unlock the key to a shy side.
"U-hm," Eyes and fingers flitted up to his chest, then his broad shoulders, "I like... how strong you are."
Big hands squeezed around your waist, setting off a flurry of butterflies, and kept you plastered across his front, instead of your attempted distance.
"'Shouldn't tell me that," He muttered, fingers locked around each other on the curve of your spine.
You wanted to feel everything while you could-- you directed your touch to the back of his neck, and reached up as far as you could go with a face of focused concentration. Your voice was quiet, far away.
"Why not? It's true."
The grip pulling on you shifted and in seconds, he muscled you up by the ass to sit on his hips-- your thighs squeezed him but didn't need to when his grip was forcing you so hard against his cock.
He made a toothy grin at your shifting around, frantic grabbing, and looking down at the distant floor, "Gotta stay humble, man."
"Shut up," You couldn't look at his blacked-out pupils, so you opted for his mouth instead.
There were little scars all over his bottom lip, and when you started to glance around his handsome face, you realized there were many more.
You adjusted your hands around the back of his neck and, in the process of studying him, found a bigger one.
"Your eye," You took a thumb to his brow, concerned despite his small chuckle.
He closed his eyes to let you check out the shape, and you noticed he had a crooked nose. It looked like he'd broken it a few times, actually.
"That's from forever ago-- just my own shitty Quirk--,"
"Your Quirk isn't shitty." You stated, surprised a Hero Course student would bash on their own Quirk so casually.
His Quirk was, honestly, pretty cool. You wished you could do half of the things he could, and you were sure countless other students in his class felt the same way.
You rolled your hips up to lock your legs, "I like your Quirk."
He was so hot and firm, it was distracting-- you immediately needed to know if it would fit. A breathy laugh pushed past his lips and he looked down, away from you, with an identical thought.
Your lips were barely an inch apart when he looked back up, conflicted and bothered in many ways.
"I really like when you do that," He muttered, focused entirely on your glossy bottom lip.
You did a lot of things but boiled it down to either the grinding or the compliment.
"I...really like you, too--"
For some reason, his trailing off sounded like he was about to say 'but,' which didn't make any sense. You started to frown. You thought all the feelings were pretty uncomplicated, here.
"--But I wanted to take you to dinner, first."
A smile that was so big it hurt stretched across your face. That was the cutest, hottest thing you ever heard.
Your palm flattened against the side of his head and he followed your gentle lead, like a puppy on a leash, just happy to be there. Happy to please.
You considered it, only because he looked genuinely apologetic.
But he adjusted you a little on his hips, and his fingers were edging onto your bare skin, and you lost your train of thought.
"We can worry about dinner tomorrow,"  A mumbled solution was quickly swallowed by his hungry mouth-- you quickly learned that he was a messy kisser, but didn't have the energy to care.
Strawberry lipgloss smeared to oblivion, he left you breathless and pained when he pulled away to sit down and enjoy your flawless neck.
His lengthy time there, hands clawing the plush of your ass, forced you to sit still and pretty on top of his confined cock.
You pushed your forehead onto his oversized shoulder, panting already at the restraint and realization that you'd have to go out in public with huge splotches of purple and green all over your neck.
He sunk his teeth into you and closed his jaw, leaving deep, puffy lines in your skin-- you squirmed away with a shaky sound, but were only met with a forearm barring you in by the lower back.
"If you don't like it rough, you can always tell me to stop," He reminded you, playful and a little condescending.
If he was going to be filthy, you wanted to return the energy.
"Mm-mm," While he was more maneuverable, you took the opportunity to press another deep, needy kiss on his big, scarred lips, "Put those teeth to good use."
Kirishima almost shied away from your sugar-sweet tone, your sudden confidence in the face of words that he had to craft very carefully. His saving grace was your subtle confirmation.
"I knew you had a thing for my teeth," He stole a few more giggly kisses and was sure to carefully take your bottom lip.
It was technically a lie-- he didn't come up with that theory on his own. Sero had to bring it up with him after he noticed your fixation.
"I've got a thing for you," You admitted.
Your hands explored his broad back, trying to fight your squirming as he switched sides and started high on the other side of your neck. His excited chuckles buzzing against your heated skin were not making it easy.
His long hair kept getting in your face. Instead of blowing the locks away, you tracked your fingers up through the back and tugged it away, but it elicited an almost automatic motion in his hips, up into you.
You laughed at his failed grab up at your fist and, with the same mocking tone he used with you, chirped, "If you don't like it rough..."
"God, you're funny too--," Kirishima sighed and pulled your shirt over your head before you could object.
"Oh."
He must not have realized your common choice to go braless beforehand, because your blank torso left a funny, flushed look on his face.
It was hard to tell, though, and your immediate understanding of his surprise demanded an apology and crossed arms with an uncomfortable chuckle, "Sorry-- I think you've got me beat in cup size."
"No-nono, they're great, fantastic, amazing," He pulled on your arms and explained so quick you had to read his lips to understand him, "I didn't mean to- I'm just-- happy I don't have to struggle with a clip."
You had to wonder how many girls he'd been with, what his expectations were, because he clearly had some experience.
As he hoisted you up, light as a feather to him, to put you on your back, you wondered if he was good. If he'd be patient with the best and worst parts.
The mattress groaned beneath his weight as he wasted no time to shift over your pretty, raised chest. When he put a fraction of his body on you, you almost gave the same reaction.
His lips and tongue on your sensitive bud almost convinced you to not ask, but your body was screaming for him to get off.
"How much do you weigh?"
You raked your fingernails through his scalp with a labored inhale and felt him smile.
"290[131 kg], around there." He kissed the bitemark he left on your breastbone and switched sides.
Half of the time, you couldn't fathom how massive he was in comparison to you, so you didn't try. But now, with practically nothing else to do than compare, it was mindblowing.
If he wasn't careful, he might risk seriously injuring you. Rough, for his size and strength, might actually be dangerous. You cringed at how unsexy it sounded to suffer a torn muscle or a broken bone because you didn't know each other's limits.
"Still not where I want to be," His canine almost clipped you as he spoke, forcing you to flinch, "Trying to get to 300."
Your thighs squeezed around his torso, shamefully turned on by the risk. He made a grumbly, understanding groan on your breast with a dose of intense eye contact.
"You like big guys, huh?"
You huffed and pushed on his enormous shoulders, "Obviously."
Another kiss to the center of your chest gave way to lower and lower toothy, ruttish kisses. He loved the way you fueled his ego by acknowledging his size.
"Can I--," You sighed, not wanting to be picky, but concerned for your pussy with his combined leverage and clumsy habits in this position, "Can I sit on your face--?"
"Yes."
That was a lot easier than you anticipated. He quickly wrapped his arms around you, determined to not let you move without his manual aid, and fell onto his back.
He was very pretty under you.
Hair splayed out, at least before he started to tie it up, his impressive body all exposed for you to admire and touch, his eyes glued to only you.
You didn't want to part from the print in his sweatpants, perfectly content grinding on it instead, but he hooked his hands beneath your thighs and pulled you up.
As disappointed as you were to part, you knew you needed this so it'd fit easier.
It took a moment to find the tiny zipper of your skirt, but when you did, Kirishima moved your hands away and did it himself, grinning at your cute frown.
"You gotta get used to me doing things for you, baby," He dropped them off of the side of the bed.
"Baby?"  You repeated to yourself, more focused on the name and insinuation that he wanted to do this regularly than his head between your thighs.
He brought you out of your spinning head with a long, slow kiss to your thigh, longer and slower than he originally intended, because now he wanted to mark all of you up.
Another bite reminded you--
"Be careful with your teeth- please."
The chewing on your other leg paused, and he chuckled against it, "Of course."
A slow, gentle kiss through your thin, soaked undies, "I'm real careful when I wanna be."
Your posture struggled to stay up already. You took a fistful of his hair and screwed up his ponytail as his arms held you down, fingers hooked into the fabric.
The sharp, invasive noise of a door opening and a familiar, scratchy voice shot your body with a stiffness you had never felt before.
"Hey Dumbass, let's get this over with already, I wanna--,"
Two pairs of red eyes widened at the same exact time as you caught your breath to scream bloody murder.
Kirishima pushed you into the mattress with a Hero-like quickness, shushing your shrill curses and smothering your body with his comforter and own body.
It was far too late. Bakugou was standing stock-still at the open door, hand struggling to find it again in order to close it, while he stared open-mouthed and beet red at his buddy.
Despite you yelling at him to get out, fuck off, get lost, and the like, he only listened to Kirishima when he was told to, 'Wait outside the door for a sec, man.'
"It's okay, it's okay, it's okay," He leaned over you, breathing hard and on the verge of tears, "It's okay, you're okay--,"
"It's not!! It's not! You didn't lock the door?!"
"The dorms here don't have locks," He explained, way too calm for your liking.
You repeated, 'Don't have locks,' until you could find another thing to focus on.
"He saw me," You got worked up again, sniffling, "He--,"
"Awww, nonono," Kirishima lifted you up into a strong hug and kissed the side of your head, "I promise he doesn't care, baby. He's not that kinda guy."
It was too much, you were just with him in the gym and now he saw you, completely nude, sitting on his best friend's face. You wanted to leave immediately.
"I'm gonna talk to him, okay?"
He tried to let you go, but you stayed latched on, making him laugh. He grabbed a stray shirt from his bedframe and smelled it, then offered it as a replacement.
You first wiped the tears off of your face with it, hasty and angry, then mumbled as he stood back up, "Beat him up or something."
"I'll try," He joked and gave your leg a little rub before leaving to meet Bakugou in the hall.
His absence was sobering.
The very first thing you did was shimmy yourself into his gigantic t-shirt, with an obnoxiously long inhale through the dark grey cotton. His scent was like a shot of morphine.
Then, you sat very still, his collar over your nose, comforter still confining you like a caterpillar, to listen to the sounds of hushed voices right outside the door.
Why the hell didn't you knock--?
Don't get pissy at me! You're not supposed to have chicks in your room!
Bro, you KNEW how I felt and you KNEW she was over.
And YOU knew that Stats assignment was due at six. YOU asked ME to come over at 5.
It wasn't quite Kirishima throwing punches, but he did sound upset for you. You linked your fingers together and stared at the door.
I thought I made it pretty clear what I'd be doing for the next few hours, man.
No, No, No, and you still haven't. Looks like you beat the shit out of her! What the hell is on her neck?!
Dude, come on, you've never seen a hickey? Oh, waaait--
Don't.
There was a moment of tense quiet, and you were still holding out hope for Kirishima to kick his loud friend's ass, but it never came.
Let's just hurry this up.
The doorknob twisted then returned without opening. You pulled the shirt back down where it was supposed to go. More heated words, then Kirishima reappeared with an initial look that could kill. It was replaced with a polite, mom-pleasing smile at you.
"Hi," He waved, then glanced behind the door, "I hate to ask, but--"
"Move." Bakugou reappeared and didn't even spare a glance in your direction.
Despite Kirishima's warnings, went straight to the desk and sat a bag down, his permanent grumpy face no indicator of what he was thinking or what he felt.
Instead of joining him, Kirishima sat on the mattress next to you, found your skirt in the process, and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.
"Like I said, he doesn't care," He rolled his eyes back to Bakugou, then sighed at how adorable you looked in his bed and the blunt pain in his pants.
His hand rested on the side of your face, the pad of his thumb dusting over your puffy bottom lip. He leaned in to kiss you.
"Oh my god, let's go," Bakugou clicked on the online assignment.
"Would you chill the fuck out?" Kirishima spat, his face dropped to one of bitter annoyance.
Red flag or not, you couldn't tell through your rose-colored glasses. You liked how upset he got over not spending alone time with you right now.
Even Bakugou, who knew him a lot better, a lot longer, than you, looked surprised to hear that tone leave his mouth.
Ever trifling, he shook it off and reminded him as he walked over, "Coulda done this shit two weeks ago."
As they shared more passive-aggressive words, you realized all you could do was sit there and stare at a wall. Your phone was on the desk next to Bakugou's hip, so there was no quality distraction for you.
You started counting the stripes on your skirt, then pleats, then stitches.
That got boring, so you started trying to look at what was on the shirt he gave you. Some old red guy.
He had the same old Hero on a few posters in his room. Crimson Riot-- you realized he must've modeled his whole Hero theme from him. The name and vibe were pretty similar.
He had a lot of pillows. Your understanding was that guys usually had two, or just one. But he had seven on his bed. Maybe he had sleeping problems? Or maybe he just liked pillows. Hopefully not like that.
You wondered why he kept someone like Bakugou around as a best friend. You were still pissed off at him, so it was hard not to stare, but you could get away with steeping in your frustration a while longer.
Not only was their Class better-known throughout the school for being really stupid and really great, but Bakugou was the acme of stupid and great, so every rumor and preconception you had was confirmed, so far, with his behavior. Just as much of an asshole as everyone says.
But it must've meant something that Kirishima liked him. Either Kirishima was meaner than he was letting on, or Bakugou was nicer. You hoped it was the latter.
They were stuck on a problem, and while Kirishima didn't seem to care so much, Bakugou was losing it over his own answer being wrong.
Apparently, their assignments had slightly different questions. Modeled the same, but with different values. And Bakugou couldn't figure this one out.
You got tired of hearing him repeat himself, how he had to be right, how the person who made this version of the assignment put something in wrong.
Although you had different teachers for Statistics, the material couldn't have been entirely dissimilar. You stood and realized you didn't even need the skirt-- his shirt was like a sundress.
"I didn't think Hero Course students took normal subjects," You tiptoed over to the desk, on the opposite side as Bakugou, and kept your eyes fixated on the problem on the screen.
Maybe if Kirishima wasn't distracting you, you weren't distracting him.
You mumbled under your breath, "Events which occur randomly... rate r counted over... period of length s so... event count X is Poisson...Find P of X is 2, X is... okay, ummmm," You tucked your lip between your teeth and stole the paper from Bakugou's side to record all of the given elements of the question.
He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms as you started explaining in much clearer detail what they all stood for, why it seemed like a bunch of mumbo-jumbo, and answered his sometimes mind-bogglingly stupid questions with enviable patience.
It was starting to become obvious that Kirishima was not perfect. He even struggled with basic math.
One could argue that based on the number of times you caught him looking at the hem of his shirt on your thigh, it was safe to assume that maybe he had something else on his mind, too.
"Sooo, that would mean...?"
Kirishima leaned forward, two strong forearms on either side of you, to type his answer into the box.
Your tummy was doing flips as he rolled his chair closer, face pressed into your waist.
A little green checkmark appeared. He pulled you in by the opposite hip and kissed your side while Bakugou snatched up the work you helped Kirishima do.
"You're such a good teacher," Was mumbled low and smiley into the softness of your waist-- you cringed away, but once again, he held you still.
Bakugou didn't acknowledge it. But he didn't shoo you away or make any comments when Kirishima tugged you into his lap.
First, you shoved his shirt down so there wasn't a repeat of last time, and then, you tried to keep your pitiful protests to yourself once he started bouncing his leg up and down.
He pressed you to the edge of the desk so he could still write and type while Bakugou basically just told him what to do.
After that question, there weren't any more mistakes that needed fixing.
Which was fortunate considering that you would be incapable of forming a cohesive sentence. The constant force of his thigh was absolute heaven against your neglected pussy.
You kept face until Bakugou began to gather his things to leave. When he turned to place a textbook in his bag, Kirishima snaked an arm around your waist and started to add to the marks he left on your neck earlier.
Your thighs squeezed and you clawed at his knee and his wrist. He bit your ear in return and shoved his face into your hair.
The blond slung his bag over his shoulder.
Kirishima briefly came back to the real world with a quick dap-up and, "Take care, dude. See ya tomorrow."
"Yeah," Bakugou glanced at you, then back at his buddy, "Be safe."
taglist:
@dough-yo-bu @yellowflowerbub @fairywriter-oracle @kirismoon
@kwiwin @cringingmemeries @leo6472 @nijha2tact
181 notes · View notes
takes1 · 2 months
Text
poly tamaki/reader/mirio airbnb trip (p.?)
so i got a partner, work and school picked up, and abandoned public writing for a while (2ish years) lmao. no excuses, life happens, I'm sorry for anyone that requested things while i was gone. this started as a passion but turned a little sour after a while. so I'm just posting what i want i think? and i hope people like that enough. i really wanted to post something and break my streak though! i will never not love poly tamaki/mirio so here's a little nugget of a series i want to start
Tumblr media
warnings. suggestive, alcohol mentioned, 'teaser' trailer of sorts
details. 267 words. fem!reader, jealous!mirio, secret relationship, best friends to lovers, slowburn? eventual smut
🤍 new series. part ? of airbnb prompt -> description. during a boozy and debaucherous winter airbnb trip with the senior class, feelings amongst friends are revealed and acted upon
more links. my ao3 / my other writings here
Tumblr media Tumblr media
"You know where (Y/n) is? She was supposed to..." He peered around Tamaki's shoulder, eyes scanning over some clothes on the dark floor, "--Grab some beers."
Tamaki filled up a little more space in the doorway, leaning in an unnatural manner. His mind was scattered and he stumbled over many phrases. Mirio's heart pounded up to his ears.
"What?" He asked, sizing him up and tilting his head. He, too, leaned on the doorway, unafraid of getting close.
Tamaki spoke up, but remained unable to lie very well, "She's- yeah, she said she was gonna get them a while ago," He shook his head and was done babbling, eyes cast to the hardwood floors.
Mirio tilted his head down more, inches from his warm, partially sticky face.
They were speaking very quietly, but the tension was so thick you could cut the air with a knife.
"Yeah?" He tested, lifting his tone.
"Yeahh," Tamaki sighed with a small, sheepish glance forward.
"Yeah." Mirio sighed back, hand sliding off the door.
For a moment, he lingered, ears reddened with embarrassment and insecurity, and Tamaki's breath stilled for fear he would throw a punch, or a shove. But he knew where his jealousy had gotten him before, how pointless an argument would be, especially if his suspicions were somehow false.
"Okay, bud," He walked away with another disapproving glance, but Tamaki was so busy looking at his feet that he didn't see it.
Mirio didn't even try looking around after that. He went straight to the fridge, picked up 7 beers (5 for everyone else, 2 for himself), and joined the commotion outside once more.
40 notes · View notes
takes1 · 2 years
Note
Not the person who sent that ask but I just saw your response and Oh my god I am so excited for the dabix inexperienced reader chapter I have been obsessively rereading it for MONTHS
dabi becoming obsessed with inexperienced!reader (final part)
tysm!! the amount of support i got from this series?? holy shit. thank yall so much!! it's a shame i started it during the last half of my christmas break and had to take a big break during the semester. but neither the army nor my uni owns my ass for this summer, so i'll have time to write !! requests are opening soon so think about what characters/situations yall wanna see :)
Tumblr media
warnings. nsfw, dubcon themes, unprotected sex
details. fem!reader / lov recruit!reader / inexperienced!reader / corruption!kink dabi / healing quirk!reader / overstim / degradation / praise / first time / lots of d. piercings / creampie / face sitting / grinding / dacryphilia / dabi getting sober / dabi's tears / yandere!dabi / 2.1k words
🤍 scenario series. dabi p.1 + p.6 and full list here.
more links. my ao3 / dabi headcanons / requests open!! my tip jar.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
There were no follow-up questions before he first stripped your dress off, then scooped you up, and plopped you onto your back-- it left you terrified at your own declaration of consent while he rid himself of his pants.
Sure, it was great to rub on, but there was no way it would fit. If it did, how could that even feel remotely good?
Dread built in your tummy as he adjusted a pillow behind your head and shared the taste of your pussy onto your drying mouth.
You flinched at the sensation of his jeweled cock on you.
"Dabi?"
He stalled at the trace of fear in your voice, "What's wrong, baby?"
"It's-- it's gonna, like, hurt, right?" You swallowed.
Pity; true, genuine pity covered his face for the first time. That was a yes.
"It hurts worse when ya don't like the other person," He spoke softly, thumb brushing away a tear he somehow missed earlier, "But you're nice and wet for me, yeah?"
You nodded, looking between his softened eyes.
"If I could change how big I am for ya, I would," A handsome smile made you grin.
His face was so close to yours, he could rest his forehead on your own with closed eyes, "It only hurts a little, 'till ya get used to it."
It was downright shameful how much your fear turned him on. Your uneven breath, constricted pupils, trembling hands on his face, and fuck, those tears strained his cock.
Still, he also loved comforting you, reassuring you he'd be gentle, despite knowing it wouldn't last long.
He lined himself up -the firm metal on his tip a useful aid in the first part of such a delicate process- and pushed, slack-jawed, past the resistance waiting for him.
It bordered on too tight, uncomfortable for even him, but your nails in his shoulders and little pained whines kept him moving further, one frenum piercing after another.
The stretch you felt on his tongue was incomparable to this.
"Mm-mm," You trembled, sick and sweaty under his heavy body, "Take it out."
Every muscle in your body was locked, squeezing in opposition to this brand new sensation. You couldn't even feel bad for the marks you dug into his skin. He was hurting you so much worse.
"Baby," Dabi cooed, "It'll be okay, just relax."
His tone was too nice, like he found your pain funny, or less legitimate, while he mansplained how to start relaxing around his monster cock. A knife to the gut would feel better than this because at least there was a little dignity there. The smile on his face made you irritable.
"Take it out," Your voice was wobbling on ice, and you couldn't look him in the eye because your own stung so much, but you meant it, you were sure that you could not do this, "Now."
When his face dropped, and his soft facade shattered in an instant, your blood ran cold and you felt so, so tiny.
"I'm doin' ya a huge favor right now, doll--,"
He grabbed your chin and the force knocked a few salty tears free. It did nothing more than instigate the long pent-up emotion in him, "I've wanted to rip ya in half so fuckin' bad for too fuckin' long."
Those words were a paralyzing venom on you. Who was this person?
Weaker hands clawed at his forearm, but it had no effect. What did inspire him to shift was the panicked movement from your aching hips, despite not having a way to get away from him in this position.
There was a falter in his pissed-off expression and a sharp exhale. He dipped his mouth to kiss away your tears and all of a sudden, his kindness was reset.
"I'll take ya as slow as I can-- but I'm not pullin' out."
At that moment, when he let go of your chin in favor of your hip, kissing you like he always did, you couldn't think to do much other than let him stay, tearing you apart.
A nice, smooth tongue brushed over your burning bottom lip, reminding you of the nicer parts of him that you liked better. His free hand lowered between your legs, a rough thumb prodding against your ignored clit.
You sucked in a trembly breath and had to part from him. That was a lovely sensation. It almost got rid of the tummyache he fucked into you.
"Feels good, yeah?" His voice was sick-sweet and tingly against your temple.
He chuckled at the pitiful, whimpery 'yeah' that caught on your tongue. It helped that he gave you a good view to enjoy-- your mind was circling around the fact that he wanted you so bad that he could be mean about it.
The sugary-sweet prodding of his thumb became the subject of your attention between viciously needy glances up to his stone-cold, hungry stare.
Drool coated his bottom lip. Your own felt cold when he took tiny breaks from suffocating kisses.
Whenever he got worked up, his tongue would get sloppy, reaching deeper into your own mouth. It was funny and endearing for such a sex veteran to do something as goofy as stick his tongue down your throat. It made you pull away and giggle every time. It didn't even matter that he was so deep inside of you.
"Shuddup," He slurred with a smile, forehead against yours, heavy eyes shut.
If it wasn't for his uneven mouth-breathing, you'd think with a face like that, he was about to fall asleep. The usual line of stress on his forehead, between his brows, was gone.
He looked like a different man. Save for the scars, piercings-- everything else, of course.
Rising waves of pleasure started to distract you from your admiration, though. The big stare you held was unfocusing, blurring with some rised salt-less tears. 
The transition from painful, to uncomfortable, to addicting, was so much quicker than you anticipated. Numb nails let off of his back and pulled his face into the crook of your neck.
His eager tongue darted over your sweat-slick skin and made you squirm, hugging him in harder.
How was this the same guy from two minutes ago? You supposed you liked his unstable nature, to an extent. He always kept you on your toes. He certainly loved you, and for sure fucked you like he did.
Big, veiny hands pried your sticky, surprisingly resistant thighs from around his waist and pushed them up. Your legs dangled over his shoulders, toes curling as he weighed down on you and hit a spot you never knew existed.
"Aa-h!"  You nearly choked on your own ignored spit, and when you closed your mouth to swallow, he took advantage of the chance to fold you further into the mattress and steal your breath.
His piercings zipped deliciously easy against your sore and needy walls.
The stretch was too good on your hips, the relief your thighs got from the freedom of not having to squeeze, and the deeper, unmovable angle had your nails sinking into his shoulders.
"Fucck, yes--," Dabi sighed, shaky and grinning.
His hips smacked forcibly into yours as he fucked his load deep into your guts. Unrestricted, broken curses, vaguely about you and your pussy, carried his groans.
The hand shoving your head into the mattress, covering your loud mouth, kept you from telling him you were cumming, but he got the message through the new deep trenches you dug into his neck.
Almost right away, the sleepy buzz of oxytocin replaced your mind-shattering high. It worked with Dabi's shushes, his gentle kisses, and slow adjustment of helping you through your hard twitches and shakes.
Predator-like eyes tracked every little movement and noise you made, with almost no room to hide the damage of your orgasm and absolutely none for any trace of elegance.
"You did so good, doll," He nudged his nose into your cheek, "Felt so fuckin' perfect..."
Cold staples on your temple distracted you from the hot and foreign feeling of his cock still in you.
His praise and trembling arms set another fire in your weak tummy.
It became apparent just how much energy he lost when he settled your legs back around his waist to scoop you up and squish you under his sweaty and shaky body. He didn't pull out but you didn't mind. You didn't want to feel empty yet.
"Thank you," He muttered into your hairline, hands kneading your slippery back.
It was a struggle to find your voice, and once you did, it came out uneven and scratchy with the accompanying laugh, "For what?"
He was quiet for a minute. An odd, sobering sound that made your quicker mind race through the possibilities.
"For my-- for my first?" You heard yourself ask, distant and small.
Was that what he was after? Would he leave you now that he had all he needed? At a moment's notice, his weight didn't feel comforting anymore; it was suffocating. But his quiet voice cut through your premature panic.
"No," Dabi rolled his cloudy, stinging eyes but you couldn't see it, "Just... everything. I've never been with anyone that-- that cares this much."
A small sniffle warm acted as the precursor to wetness against your forehead.
His breathing became conscious and slowly evened back out, but you lingered on the admission, this change, throughout his usual pillow talk and soft kisses.
Tumblr media
taglist:
@ptv-hades @croomdoom @orenjineki @dxrkdreamer @mirayasimpinghard @whore-for-anime-men @moonlightmiya @tojicvmslut @all-in-the-fandoms @aether-crystal @starsforannie @zahra030208 @pigeons-are-rad @wack0-genius@maggiecc @asteria33 @caitlindiehlpickle @readinggurl @prettylittlebunnysblogs1 @cency @thehaplessfool @graciavm
Tumblr media
486 notes · View notes
takes1 · 2 years
Note
More of the dabi and inexperienced reader !! ❤️ I'm in love :) your an amazing writer by the way and I want to thank you for the time you put into your chapters 😍
Tumblr media
absolutely! tysm and ty for reading them!!! new chapter is queue'd for tonight at 7:30
6 notes · View notes
takes1 · 2 years
Note
Any update on the next Dabi x inexperienced!reader chapter?
Tumblr media
just got home last night :) chapter should be out in the next 24 hrs !!
5 notes · View notes
takes1 · 2 years
Note
Do you have a plan for chapter 8 of teachers pet?
Tumblr media
yes i do ! i've got the next four chapters drafted :) here's a little taste under the cut:
warnings: nsfw, cnc, bdsm themes, aged up!denks
minors DNI.
"Aa-h, pl-ease, Miss," He choked out a beautiful sob, "Stop, please..."
Sharp nails raked down his sensitive, soft tummy, leaving pink stripes in their wake to fuel more tears, "Sweetie, you're the one who's fucking me."
He barely had the energy to curl away from the stinging pain. His efforts impressed you, though.
His blacked-out eyes, whenever he blinked away enough permanent tears to open them, let you know he was deep in his sub-space. The idea of him fucking you could have been expressed in a foreign language, and he was in no position to decipher it.
It was no lie, though. You weren't the one moving.
You laid off of your traces in his soft skin in favor of the slick, hot...
8 notes · View notes
takes1 · 2 years
Note
Hey love! How’ve you been? ♥️
hey babes, i've just been hangin in there. hella busy w/ classes recently.
writing-wise, i'm plannin on making a big comeback for summer in early to mid-may <3 i'll have lots of time to write then. i wanna put a few smaller pieces out there in the meantime tho! lots of stuff in the works.
how is everyone? there's so many of you now tysm for sticking w/ me !!
Tumblr media
9 notes · View notes
takes1 · 2 years
Note
FAVOURITE WRITER ALERT 🚨🚨🚨🚨✨
UR DABI FIC WAS SO AMAZING
dabi becoming obsessed with inexperienced!reader (part 6)
WOW TYSM I LOVE YOU !!! the dabi series has been my favorite series to write so far! ik i said that this would be the final part however it was just gettin too long so i had to chop it in half. also big apologies for the inactivity- the semester has really been kicking my ass. BUT i needed to dust the cobwebs off of this draft and get it out to yall, hope ya like it!
Tumblr media
warnings. nsfw, dubcon themes
details. fem!reader / lov recruit!reader / inexperienced!reader / corruption!kink dabi / healing quirk!reader / overstim / degradation / praise / quality jealous-clingy action / lots of d. piercings / face sitting / grinding / dacryphilia / dabi getting sober / yandere!dabi / 2.1k words
🤍 scenario series. dabi p.1 + p.5 and full list here.
more links. my ao3 / dabi headcanons / requests open!!
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
The reassuring buzz of electricity and the smell of your own apartment after a long day, like clockwork, had you stop and take a deep sigh at the front door.
Your routine bag-drop and key-hang followed suit, as would the action to take off your heels, but the clink of a mug on your kitchen counter and a scratchy hum distracted you.
"Oh, hi," You grinned at Shigaraki.
A tiny, cracked smile was given in return. He stirred some honey in his tea and examined your tight dress up and down without an ounce of shame.
Noticing little actions like that wasn't one of your strengths, so you approached the other side of the counter and sat on the twirling stool. You brought your elbows up to the counter and rubbed your temples.
"Fun night?" He brought the steaming cup to his lips, eyes locked on your low neckline.
"Long night," You sighed.
He bit a grimy compliment back just in time to hear a door open from the hallway, footsteps approaching in a predictable, rushed-to-casually-slow way.
"You've been having a lot of those recently," He croaked with another sip.
The comment went mostly ignored because Dabi was on you in an instant. Needy arms snaked around your waist, pulling you back from the countertop, and spun your chair so he could get his proper, suffocating hug.
"Didn't say ya were gonna be gone for that long," Dabi spoke right into your neck and muffled your cringe with a crushing squeeze.
Shigaraki watching made you stiff and unreceptive. You hardly hugged him back.
Your kind, soft tone tried to make up for it, "Yeah, I didn't know we were--,"
When his lips drove towards yours to cut you off, you were barely able to dodge it, "--Going out of town for the restaurant."
He forced many hard kisses into your temple, cheek, and jaw, while his hand kept you still by the nape of your neck.
Squinted eyes looked from you to Shigaraki, absolutely sure he did or said something to make you uncomfortable. All he got was more pissed off. The decrepit mess was gawking at the way your ass was almost spilling out of your dress.
"Shut up and go fuck off somewhere else, loser," Dabi lowered his grip and palmed your ass to cover it.
You gave a quick, frightened squeak and tried to move his hands by the wrists while Shigaraki scoffed, eyes only glancing up for a moment.
"Dabi!"
"I didn't say anything, asshole," He shifted only a little when Dabi yelled 'Go' again at him, "How about you shut up for a night? Can't fucking sleep with you going at it!"
"Fuck you," Dabi muttered, since he couldn't do much to tear his eyes off of you. He picked you up by the butt and carried you in the direction of the hallway.
Despite Shigaraki's creative insults in return, you called a defeated, "Sorry," as Dabi turned the corner.
The familiar sound of a lock clicking closed made you a little nervous when he set you down. Logic told you that you didn't have any reason to be that way, since he already had his fun earlier.
Before the dinner with your coworkers, he took one look at you all dolled up and decided he couldn't wait hours to eat you out-- then decided once wasn't enough-- so you had to reapply your mascara and were a little jelly-legged for the beginning of the night.
"You shouldn't talk to that creep," He squeezed past you, almost tripping over a shirt, to sit down.
You picked it up, deemed it clean since you didn't remember him wearing this one yet, and started to fold it before he swiped it from you to do it himself.
Standing over him, you grinned into a cheeky kiss and pulled away long before he was ready, "That's so funny, Toga said the same exact thing about you."
Hungry hands pulled you into his lap by your thighs, his always primed cock rolling against the heat between them.
"Ya think Imma creep?"
He sounded drunk, but you knew better; he was a few days sober, and still trembly from withdrawal. The only two things with the power to stop his shakes were time and the squeeze of your own fingers laced in his.
"You don't listen," You gave him a little peck, then another, and were quickly smushed into a rougher, longer kiss.
He didn't let you go until he nicked your bottom lip bloody. Then, he sucked the red up between the inattentive words of his reply.
"I do listen. Imma great listener," You watched his eyebrow piercing wiggle when he raised his brow, "I was just asking if ya thought I was a creep."
The question shot you back to the time you found out he stole your used thong, then explained it like it was a keepsake of the first time you let him go down on you. Or the time he convinced you to let him record you getting off with the toy he bought-- which still didn't work, even when he helped. Or the time he texted you, drunk, saying he knew your social security number and that he was going to merge them together because 'he wanted to be one person.'
It was still unclear if he actually knew it or not.
"Um..." You laughed and he finally stopped nursing on your throbbing bottom lip.
All he did was suck his teeth at you, roll his eyes, and mutter, "Whatever."
His disinterested front would be useless and short-lived. He knew he had a problem. As with most of his vices, he didn't know where it came from, or how to get rid of it, and didn't want to.
Your favorite thing to do when he wasn't as receptive as usual was to tempt him.
Usually, it was something simple. For instance:
"I missed you."
A seasoned veteran with your tactics, he quickly looked away from your irresistible doe-eyes and relaxed onto his back, hands at their usual place behind his head. Once he closed his eyes, you knew it'd be significantly harder to make him the way you liked him.
You followed him down, quickly delivering smooches against his face and neck that you convinced yourself were rougher than they actually were.
He smelled like outside-- likely from hours on his ridiculously long runs a nearby park. It was the only way he wouldn't text you.
Breathy from your little back-and-forth motions against his print, you tried, "I thought about you a lot."
Dabi's immediate, small chuckle let you know he didn't believe your lie for a second.
Unlike him, you had two separate lives and the ability to withdraw from either at the drop of a pin. His was confined to illegal activities and you.
It wasn't a total lie; you definitely thought about him when you had to get used to being sore.
"Well, I did miss you..." You gave a small bite to his scarred jaw and hesitated, thinking it may have been too hard, "I wish you had texted me or something."
You liked seeing messages waiting for you at the end of your shift, whenever you got done with errands, or hanging out with friends. It made you feel wanted and loved, it got you through tough days at work.
Nothing. He always was a physical man.
With a loud, annoyed sigh, you sat upright and tugged a little on his sweatpants, hips still working on him for your own sake. He had a habit of going without briefs, now that you wanted him to whip it out for you every chance you got.
If he didn't want people to see it, he shouldn't have gotten it pierced, is what you told him every time he acted demurring.
You loved the way it smacked his toned tummy. So pretty and shiny.
As you shifted over it to grind, hands pushing flat on his multi-colored ribs, you saw that his eyes were still closed.
"Look at me," You huffed. It was so much better when he watched and told you how pretty you were.
His jaw flexed with indecision.
"Mmm, pretty sure watching would make me a 'creep,' right?"
You wanted his hands, you wanted his eyes, his words, his attention.
"I want you to be a creep," A small push to his chest made him start to let go of his hands in favor of yours, "Just look at me!"
It was easy to forget he had respiratory problems. He cleared his throat, deciding to omit the warning for you not to do that when you moved your hands down and opened his eyes.
The sight of you in that filthy gorgeous dress, perched on his swollen cock, sulking because you wanted him so bad, spurred a full-body shiver.
Fuck that, he wasn't going to humiliate himself again.
"Jesus," He looked up at the ceiling and rubbed his brow.
Impatient, you groaned at his denial, "Dabi, please."
"Doll, I swear to God, just..." He sighed, "Ya want me to cum in the next-- five seconds??"
You bit your aching lip with a cute, dumb giggle, "Yesss."
He cursed himself for not just pumping one out to that video of you while you were gone, so he wouldn't feel like he was ready to burst right now. How could he not be the world's biggest creep when you were dripping on him?
"Well, I don't," His hands pawed your hips off of his twitching, flushed erection and kept you from sitting back down, "How about ya come sit on my face, huh?"
A long tongue darted out of his mouth and made you stop trying to pry his fingers off. It was impossible to say no when your clit had a conditioned response to the sight of his piercing.
That pretty, shy face you made at his suggestion forced his cock to jump. He laughed at your sudden change in demeanor.
"That's a good girl," He groaned and hiked up your dress while he helped you adjust your position above him.
Just before he locked his arms around your thighs, he chuckled at how soaked you were, "Fuck, baby, maybe you did think of me."
You let out a pitiful sound at his tongue sliding past your poor clit.
He kept you firmly against him when you tried to pull away at the intensity.
Lots of messy, unpredictable kisses all over your pussy drove one hand into his fluffy hair, another on the mattress to keep yourself upright.
The metal ball on his tongue and your sex were practically best friends by now. Very familiar with one another.
"H-oh, my god," You squealed out while he rolled his tongue across the warmest, wettest part of you.
His laughter made your legs weak.
There was this new empty feeling in your tummy-- you usually only got it after you came to his mouth, but today, throughout dinner, it remained and was now getting significantly worse.
It left you breathless, weak, and needy.
"Slow-- slow down, please," You begged, pulling on his hair with a swallowed sob.
Your shitty endurance, however, was not new. It was just the beginning and the end, no matter how many times he did it.
He never took his time. He wanted you to come as quickly as possible, as many times as possible.
"Dabi," You breathed, "Dabi--, please."
Of course, he didn't listen to your request. This was as much for him as it was for you.
The foreign, but divine sensation of his tongue prying into you forced your thighs to fight against his arms and lose.
"A-aAh, Mm--," You tried to quiet your surprised yelp, but it was pointless as Dabi forced your hips to roll on his long tongue, shoving it deeper into you.
It eased that weird, empty feeling.
Stained tears rolled fresh across your cheeks, broken curses spilling from your mouth. His nose brushed your clit over and over again while he fucked you with his tongue.
That was when the realization hit you.
"I want you," You pushed against his hold, but were too weak, "Dabi--, Ah, Go-d,"
He was going to make you cum if you didn't pry him off.
"Mm-mm, stop, stop, I need--," Your hand moved from his head to one of his arms and pulled, embarrassingly debilitated, "I need you in me."
He froze for a moment.
"Are you... serious?"
"Yes!"
You took the chance to try to move off, but he did the work for you by slipping through your legs and sitting up so quickly you thought you may have imagined it.
Maybe it was the sober feeling of being denied an orgasm, but for some reason, you wanted to take your statement back at the sight of his bouncy cock under you. That was significantly bigger than his tongue.
final part picks up from here, so ask to be on the taglist!:
@ptv-hades @croomdoom @orenjineki @dxrkdreamer @mirayasimpinghard @whore-for-anime-men @moonlightmiya @tojicvmslut @all-in-the-fandoms @aether-crystal @starsforannie @zahra030208 @pigeons-are-rad @wack0-genius@maggiecc
644 notes · View notes
takes1 · 2 years
Text
p.2 himbo!kirishima x petite!reader (gymbros series: leg day)
ya'll this is about get filthy i stg i love me some kiripima. also this'll get probably get two more parts?
Tumblr media
warnings. suggestive sfw, an almost kiss, build-up to eventual smut
details. aged up!kiri, fem!reader / suggestive sfw / mentions of f! + m! masturbation / lots of staring / mutual size kink / horny kiri trying hard to be a gentleman / shy reader / support course student!reader / gym thirst / sharp teeth thirst / 2.2k words
🤍 scenario series. part one / kiri headcanons
more links. my ao3
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Despite your agreement to meet up later than your usual time, you still chose to arrive at the gym early. You needed time to yourself in order to stretch and get your head straight.
At the end of yesterday's workout, Kirishima gave you his number so you could keep in touch and 'coordinate' your schedules.
He was also bold enough to send you a follow request on Instagram when you were getting ready for bed that night. Your first reaction held true to now: Why was he even thinking of you that late? You barely knew him. It was weird to look you up and even weirder to follow you.
As off-putting as his quick friendship was, it didn't amount to the downright shameful act, done in the comfort of your own company, that ensued.
It wasn't your fault he was so hot. If he didn't want people getting off to his pictures, he shouldn't have posted so many shirtless ones.
All of his friends were hot, too-- nobody was exempt from your fantasies last night, but you thankfully didn't need to worry about interacting with anyone besides him.
Your legs were already shaky, heart already pounding, long before the workout started. At this point, you hoped it was just anxiety.
Palms flat on the floor, feet planted, the crown of your head pointed to the linoleum tile, you were almost relaxed when the sound of the door jolted you upright.
Kirishima tried to stifle his big grin. You were so jumpy, even though he was the only person that could've walked through the door. He took it as a good sign.
"Morning!" He laughed at your hesitant dip back into the stretch.
"Morning," You mumbled.
He walked over to your spot, facing the mirror with a solid view of your lovely position, and placed his own bag down. He took a long sip of electrolyte water, glued to how deep you could bend.
Not only did that look precisely how he imagined you last night, but he stared long enough to circle back around to your choice of attire.
When you rose, you kept your back in that addictive arch.
"Nice shorts, man," He set his water back down to turn and watch you giggle at your matching, red booty shorts.
You didn't notice when he walked in, since you were so focused on yourself. Despite how tiny they looked on him, he had the...everything for it.
Kirishima was packing in the back, the front, and his legs looked about four times the size of yours. You wondered exactly how you were going to get through today.
"You too," You sat on the floor to stretch out your hips and watch him sit next to you in the mirror, "They're perfect for leg day."
He copied you as you sat back on your heels, but paused when you leaned forward on your knuckles and opened your knees up.
Between the cute curve of your spine and his inexperience with your stretches, he had a hard time trying to replicate the simple action.
"Do you stretch before your workouts?"
If you kept looking at him like that, he was gonna get hard and it was gonna be your problem.
He shook his head, distracted eyes bouncing between your clean form and your ass.
You pushed yourself to a squat and hopped up to help him, "Well, you need to start."
His goofy, still confused face in the mirror made you smile again.
"There's an easier one-- it's supposed to help you open up your hips," You nudged his shoulder with the heel of your hand, but stopped, "Is it okay if I...?"
"Pshhhh, Yeahyeah yeah, totally," He waved off your concern despite the blood pooling towards his lower stomach.
You still barely knew each other, so it was a little uncomfortable standing over him as you guided his chest into the floor. But he was really good at diffusing your tension, just by being so compliant and happy to learn.
It didn't hit you how suggestive this position was until you knelt behind him.
Kirishima caught your face in the mirror and laughed harder, "What, am I not doing it right?"
"Nono, you're-- fine," You placed a hesitant hand on his left thigh and pulled it further out to square his hips out.
The taper from his waist to his upper back was purely pornographic. His big, heavy arms flexed here and there with the effort it took to not seize up and resist the stretch in his hips.
Your hand lowered to his bare skin, below the hem of his shorts on his hamstring, and he flinched, "Jesus! Your hand's freezing."
"Sorry," You laughed and retracted it, "Poor circulation."
Despite the cold shock of your fingers, you were still so small and soft on him. A telltale heartbeat strained against his thin shorts as he thought about how big he would look in your hand.
"How do you have poor circulation?"
You cracked a confused smile. "What do you mean?"
He labored himself up from the position, as it was only encouraging his hard-on, and tried to flex the thing away through his quads while he stood up.
"I mean--," Rightfully his turn to embarrass himself, the sight of you on your knees, looking up at him, forced his voice to crack, "I me-an, you're so little, the blood doesn't have far to travel."
For some reason, until now, you were under the impression that he somehow didn't know about the distinct size difference between the two of you. Like, only you could call it out, only you were aware of how gigantic he was.
Baffled, you stood and crossed your arms, "Anyone can have bad circulation, they don't need to be as giant as you."
A handsome grin forced you to stop looking up at him, and instead turn to the weights behind you.
His voice suddenly cropped up much too close to you, and completely unprepared, you seized up and cringed away from his minty breath on the shell of your ear, "Let's just get started, Tiny."
Your punch on his back was nothing but a pat to him.
"That's not my name!" You called, rubbing the high spot on your neck where you could still feel his words.
You scooped up your bottle with one last check in the mirror and could only pray the headlights through your white t-shirt would go away once you started your routine.
For the most part, your excitement did leave. Once you were both back into the swing of things, there was less to overthink. It was hard expending extra energy to be horny when you were already burnt out from your combined leg routine.
The only time you got distracted was when you switched out equipment and had a bit of rest in between.
He looked perfect when he was slick with sweat, breathing heavy, veins popping, carved muscle working hard beneath his tanned skin.
His encouragement, too, when you paid attention to it, was enough to make your tummy twist. You tried to return it, but you had the tendency to be firm while correcting his form, telling him to try different variations, and forcing more repetitions on him.
"You're the one who's supposed to save people for a living, not me," You grinned, placing your kettlebell to the side when he attempted to return your energy.
Kirishima was too sweet to keep it up. He had a naturally gentle approach to his motivation.
Laughter melded together at the sight of Kirishima supporting himself on the left railing, with you clinging in a similar fashion on the right.
The joint leg day, a product of the hardest parts of both of your routines, left the two of you walking funny on the way back downstairs to grab your things and leave.
"Dude, I have practical training at like, 3:00 today!" He whined and rolled his knuckles along the side of his quad at the base of the steps.
You were very glad you were not a Hero Course student. They had those poor guys training too often. You kept your hands stuck on your hips and opted for a little duck waddle, far more efficient than his slow side-stepping.
"Get one of your buddies to roll you out," You suggested.
Now at the mirror, you felt like your bag sitting on the floor was a million miles away, officially unable to bend and grab it.
Kirishima took on a similar stance in front of his own stuff.
"Uh..." He contemplated your advice with a small frown, "I don't think anyone I know would do it."
Surely one person he knew would help him out. Just by what little you knew, you could imagine he had a million good friends that owed him favors.
"Nobody?"
"Well," He pulled his phone out of his tiny pocket, brows raising, "They wouldn't do it right."
In a widened stance to begin leaning down for your stuff, you were grateful that he stopped you with a lighthearted request.
"Hey, you mind a little pic of us together? My buddy 'Denks wants to put a face to your name."
You straightened back up with a shrug and a nod, then blinked at the implications of that, slowly taking his outstretched hand to join him.
"You talk about me--?"
You tried to fix your hair the best you could in what little time and space he gave you, stumbling over his shoe as he pulled you close by the waist. He didn't answer your question.
He grabbed the hem of his shorts and pulled up on it to flex his leg, so you replicated the pose. Even though you had a pump going, it looked silly when you compared the sizes.
"Niiice," He started captioning it right away, without showing you.
After you budged your way between his phone and his body to see it, he rested his elbows on your shoulders and leaned forward.
It would've been a motion worthy of your attention, but you were focused on the hideous insult to your standards so casually held in front of your eyes.
Your hair was a mess, your sweat created a weird pattern in your shirt, and he caught you mid-blink.
"No!"
With an impressive vertical, you lurched to grab it from him, but his reflexes were just a moment too fast and he started laughing at your strong reaction.
"What's wrong, dude?" He teased as you turned around to face him.
You focused on the phone behind his back. Your arms, stretched as far as they could go with his body obstructing you, weren't long enough to reach, so you tried to slip out-- he switched hands and held it just over his head.
"I look terrible! Retake it!" You begged and started to climb him despite how wobbly your legs were.
It was just out of reach, until he switched hands, wrapped his free arm around your waist, and pushed you over his shoulder.
You let out an embarrassing squeal at the dizzying height you dangled from. You seized his back like a lifeline.
"Maaan," He drawled, rough hand curled at the widest part of your thigh to keep you from slipping, "If you say so."
While he snapped another picture, you tried to maneuver yourself from the upside-down position, but only managed to hold yourself up by pushing on his lower back.
This must've been punishment for the extra stuff you made him do. Out of breath, sweaty, shaky, and tired, you didn't put up some big fight or argue a lie about how you didn't like it.
As long as you got to touch him, you didn't mind his tendency to throw you around or crush you. Something about him (maybe his kindness, maybe his 57" chest) brought out an embarrassing side of you.
"Don't drop me," You sighed a half-hearted warning.
The hand around your thigh firmed up as he lowered into a slow, likely difficult squat until you felt your feet touch the ground again.
You wiggled up and over his wide shoulder, ears ringing so loud his voice sounded distant.
"I'd never do that," He stayed eye-level with you in his crouch, painfully close, "You gotta have more faith in me."
The little smirk and low, almost sleepy look in his eyes had you pressing back into his lingering hand. This had no other implications other than him being interested-- right? Gym buddies didn't get in each other's faces like this.
You could see a mask of dark stubble from this close. Just another thing to add to your list of new 'fuck-me-immediately' traits.
"I just met you," You reminded him with a -hopefully- polite smile. You couldn't feel your face.
As if to directly contradict yourself, you realized that you were pinching the hem of his collar between your fingers.
Kirishima looked away for a second, a tiny grin on his face, while he sat down and leaned back on his hands. You missed the warmth of his palm on your lower back.
"Then we can get to know each other, yeah?"
You'd rather sit on his lap than play 20 Questions, but beggars can't be choosers.
taglist:
@dough-yo-bu @yellowflowerbub
433 notes · View notes
takes1 · 2 years
Text
himbo!kirishima x petite!reader (gymbros series: chest day)
just some kiri thirst that nobody asked for, featuring third-year kiri where he hits a growth spurt and grows his hair out. very overwhelmed rn so this fic was a product of me needing a nice escape and realizing i don't have any kiri content out
Tumblr media
warnings. big muscle thirst mostly
details. aged up!kiri, fem!reader / sfw / eventual smut / mutual size kink / shy reader / support course student!reader / gym thirst / kiri is so dumb but so sweet / reader has a thing for sharp teeth / 1.5k words
🤍 scenario series. kiri headcanons
more links. my ao3
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Nobody, not even the most regular of adrenaline junkies would occupy the gym this early in the morning. You were used to having both levels of the building to yourself and leaving when it was still pitch black, the sidewalk completely barren, the birds still asleep.
Complete privacy was the only way you could get a quality workout in. The usual patrons (mostly Hero Course students, you noticed) who used up all of the equipment you needed, hogged benches, and at the worst of times, wrongfully corrected you on form, scared you off of your more sane hours.
The first day you were joined, the sound of the heavy door banging shut almost made you jump out of your skin.
This campus gym was open for student use 24/7-- it's just that you figured you were the only person crazy enough to utilize that little-known fact.
Every day after that, your not-partner would continue to arrive ten minutes earlier. The gym was plenty spacious for two people to never cross paths, but it still made you nervous enough to skip or replace certain exercises if the spot needed was too close to him.
Judging by his extremist ego-lifting, he was obviously one of those abrasive types; just some big, dumb muscle-head. Easy to look at, but you could bet there was nothing behind those pretty eyes.
You didn't know him well. You didn't try to look at him much. He was bigger, lifted more than you, and you both wore earbuds to ease the awkwardness of quiet huffs and occasional grunts. There was no real reason to speak to one another until one morning, a fatefully failed PR startled you out of your cool-down stretches.
You'd be lying if you said you didn't watch the redhead load up the bar with 45's, swinging his arms back and forth, stretching out, and sighing a little too much to be totally confident.
As you counted one side, four of those same plates clipped in-- you squinted at his indistinct expression.
405 lbs was not a good weight to doubt himself on.
Maneuvered into a position that you could watch, as subtle as you could manage, you anticipated being spoken to.
'Hey, can you spot me on this?' or 'Yo, I need a spot.'
But no such request was made; you could have been a part of the yoga mat you stood on. You cringed as he settled under the bar, carefully measuring his grip to an even width.
When he lifted it, your nerves loosened, and it occurred to you that he probably knew his ability better than anyone else. He had been lifting consistently in the 390s for reps, so when the 405 bounced off of his capable chest, you anticipated the heavy clang of metal on metal.
It did not happen.
He muscled it up halfway-- then his arms started shaking, the weight slowly lowered back down, and you sprang into action.
"I got you," Your squeaky sneakers halted at his aid and you took an alternated grip to the center, "I got you!"
His breathless grunting the only thanks he could manage, you had to use your body weight to haul the metal up. Still, he admittedly did most of the work to get the bar racked.
A deafening slam of the weight, and the consequent wobble of the floor, scared you the most. That was enough to kill somebody.
"Holy shit," He was laughing, but it was breathy and he looked a little pale.
"You good?" You smiled down at him and failed to keep your eyes from wandering.
Veiny hands clasped across his bare chest. His breath was irregular and his eyes were unfocused whenever he opened them.
"Yeah, ye-ah, thanks to you," He curled up to sit, but thought better of it and supported himself on his elbow instead while you walked around the rack to face him, "Saved my dumbass."
You wanted to argue with him, tell him he wasn't a dumbass, especially because he was even cuter when you weren't watching from across the gym, but he had a point. That was beyond stupid.
"No prob, just," Your gaze shifted from his shiny chest to the ridiculous amount of plates, "Please ask for help next time."
Twitchy, bulging arms supported his weight while he curled forward to sit on the side of the bench. There was a clear sweat print of his wide shoulders left on the black padding.
"You wouldn't mind? I just didn't wanna bother you."
That tiny grin revealed rows of sharp teeth-- goosebumps inspired you to cross your arms for warmth as you played off the funny feeling in your tummy.
Too bad your voice did that stupid thing where you had to swallow in the middle of your sentence and rush everything behind it, "Y-ou, You wouldn't bother me. What made you think that?"
He noticed. He totally noticed. He looked away and stifled an amused sound.
"Well, every time I try to get close enough to talk to you, you run away."
As if you weren't embarrassed enough, your face felt so hot you swore you started sweating. Which was entirely unfair: He was the one that failed out, not you.
He groaned to a stand, "I just figured you were kinda shy. I didn't want to push it."
The guy towered over you, so much that it made you stagger back a little. Whether you were shy or not was none of his business. You just liked your space. That's why you worked out alone and sacrificed extra sleep for it.
You didn't acknowledge his assumptions, nor his height, despite how difficult not asking for a number was, and questioned, "Are you feeling okay?"
"Yeah, totally," He answered with a long blink, then started taking a bit of weight off of the bar.
You mirrored him on the opposite side.
"Were you trying to max out?"
He replaced one 45 with a 25. He made every plate look like a piece of paper and took much less time to add it to the bar than you, but didn't say anything about your speed.
"Yeah, I... I thought a 5-lb difference wouldn't screw with me as much."
That same expression was back on his face. Now you understood it was a mixture of doubt and the struggle to not give into it.
"That's all in your head. You could do it for your hero work."
With a glance, and a motion telling him to get his ass on the bench, his weird face was gone. He sat down, swung his leg over, shoulder blades flattened, back arched, before he grinned up at you.
You shivered. Those teeth really were something else. Not exactly hero-like, but absolutely tantalizing.
"You're in the Support Course, right?"
"Stop stalling and get this weight up, Big Guy." You patted the bar and fixed his grip.
You didn't catch his little smirk.
He didn't tell you how many reps he was going for, and honestly, you weren't expecting as many as four, but when he paused at the top, you knew he planned on doing more.
"Uh-uh, come on, five," He didn't move, instead, he huffed out a tired exhale like he was about to quit, so you got a better stance and egged him on, "Five, you can do one more, let's go."
He took another breath, the weight hit his chest, and he got stuck at the same spot as last time. It started slowly moving down with his loud, strangled sigh.
"I'm not helping you. Get it up," You were, in fact, helping him a little as it started rising at the same slow pace before you tugged it into the rack.
The redhead sat up right away with a few heavy breaths, then looked back at you, leaning on the bar.
"I'm in the Support Course. You're in Class 1A?"
He nodded, shots of adrenaline bouncing around his head, "I'm Eijiro, uh... Kirishima."
"Red Riot," Slipped off the tongue as you remembered some promotion video he filmed recently. The school had all kinds of senior Hero-Course promos on repeat throughout the halls, it'd be hard not to recall any of their overplayed scripts, "Third year, right?"
Another dumb nod.
"Don't act so tired, you still got another three sets."
Kirishima hit the bench with a dramatic thump and a big, silly grin that made you hesitate to touch his still uneven grip.
"You didn't tell me your name," He insisted, hand deliberately sliding out of the spot you put it in.
You pushed it back, ready to believe he was genuinely too stupid to keep his hand there, and squeezed to assure it wouldn't move again.
"I'll tell you when you're done."
It didn't seem to be as difficult for him on the remaining sets, and he even had the energy to remind you that he needed a name when he heaved himself from the bench.
His size was just as nervewracking as the last time he stood. Now that you were closer, you realized your forehead only came up to the bottom of his chest.
"(Y/n)," You looked up at his small, satisfied nod, like he was repeating it over in his head, enjoying every letter.
"(Y/n)," He repeated, "Sounds a lot like my new gym partner's name."
That was cute enough to make you turn and laugh. He had people skills. Maybe he could teach you how to work better with others. He could use a spotter, too.
"Yeah, I think it does," You smiled.
609 notes · View notes
takes1 · 2 years
Note
Can't believe you invented polygamy with you Tamaki pining for reader pining for Mirio posts
tamaki/reader/mirio love triangle (final part)
WOW this is the compliment of the year right here i love you. hope you enjoy this one!! i would be very interested in writing more poly stuff, it's SO fun omg
Tumblr media
warnings. nsfw, cuddle sandwich
details. gn!reader / poly / one hotel bed trope / mirio is so much smarter than he lets on / suggestive fluff / 1.8k words
🤍 imagine series. part 1 / part 2 + more here.
more links. my ao3 / requests open!!
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
A heavy warmth fought with your will to stay awake, to enjoy Mirio's light, painfully platonic touches where your tummy met your hip, but multiple reruns of the Great British Baking Show were not exciting enough to engage your mind.
You didn't want to sleep. Once you did, you wouldn't be able to get this close to him again-- at least not in this suggestive orientation.
He was propped up on a few pillows, while his puffy chest acted as your own, his massive arms and thighs your blanket, so you could both watch the television and not take up the entire bed.
Tamaki stopped watching long ago. His back was turned to you and he scrolled quietly through his phone. Sometimes, he would turn it off and try to sleep, but it never lasted for longer than two minutes. He would go right back to mindless searching.
Your cheek hit the side of Mirio's slowly rising chest, eyes low as you stared at the other boy's wide, relaxed shoulders.
The funny thought to reach out and touch him invaded your mind, but Mirio's words running over your scalp sucked you back in.
"Sleepy?"
"No," You stretched, back arched with a big, inward breath and an even bigger sigh.
A stubbly chin bumped the top of your head and stayed there. Steady, even breath spread in tingly trails all the way down to the base of your spine, where something bulky nudged your lower back.
And he kept it there, pressed firm onto you instead of switching to another, safer, position where you wouldn't have to think about it so much. Big, thick fingers dragged, lazy and gentle, across the skin just under your accidentally raised shirt.
Your eyes started to unfocus much faster after that adjustment, lids falling before you could get angry with yourself.
"I think it's bedtime, huh?"
The observation didn't rouse you, but as he moved your torso to the bed, you groaned a quiet, "Noooo," and locked your arms around his middle before he could do the same for your tangled legs.
Mirio always made you feel so warm and fuzzy inside, so wanted, so included, you couldn't handle parting from him.
He gave a small chuckle and moved your legs, mostly so he wouldn't crush them as he shifted to his side, then pulled you effortlessly into his chest.
The weight of his bicep was heavy against the side of your head, but it was nice. Clean-man smell surrounded you.
"What are you doing?" The low vibration from his body buzzed you awake again.
When Tamaki's quiet voice barely reached your ears from under Mirio's arm, you understood the question was not for you.
"What? It's just so we don't--,"
He gave a short laugh, and there was movement, "You're seriously putting up an anti-gay barrier?"
"It's not a--! Whatever, dude," Tamaki sounded tired, disinterested, and possibly grumpy.
Mirio's irritated sigh was subtle, but unmistakable at your proximity.
Despite how perfect every bit of this was, you hated hearing them get tense with each other-- and would much rather give up your enjoyment so that they could be besties again.
It took some effort to wiggle your face out of Mirio's deep chest, to croak in a more tired voice than you were expecting, "I can sleep on the couch."
When Mirio looked down at you, his slight double chin was very cute, "Nobody's sleeping on the couch."
More moving around and the sound of a pillow hitting the floor, as well as Tamaki's still-not-happy 'There' made you flip around to see the commotion for yourself with a yawn.
There was plenty of room to not touch, or whatever reason Tamaki put the pillow there in the first place. When you reached out to feel the empty space, you could almost stretch your arm out all the way and still not touch him.
It was a little too far, you thought.
Mirio copied you and succeeded in grabbing Tamaki's veiny bicep-- you laughed into the covers at the side-eye he gave in response.
"C'mere, buddy--,"
"Mirio."
"C'mooon, (Y/n) wants you over here," His sly grin was very audible.
His inflection was a little weird, so you glanced up at him, and found a look you couldn't quite read. Tamaki was frowning when you turned your head back. Was this some kind of inside joke?
You didn't know if you should keep trying to grab him, because maybe he really liked his space. But Mirio knew him better than you, and he was still joking around.
Since he was right on the edge of the bed, you decided to take a handful of his shirt at the hem and give a soft tug.
"You're gonna fall off if you don't move over," You explained.
The harsh look in his eyes disappeared when he looked at you. His jaw worked.
He took too long to decide, and with sound reasoning -his wellbeing- in mind, you didn't feel too weird pulling him towards you by his waist.
Tamaki was lean where Mirio was a little softer; his tummy, for example, was solid and had zero give under your hand. That could've been the nature of his Quirk, but you had to stop yourself from thinking about it too much.
Thinking about your friend's rock-hard abs was weird, right?
"You can let go," He spoke gentler this time, no longer ticked off, next to you.
Your arm was resting comfortably over his middle. You forgot he was not as comfortable with that as Mirio.
"Oh."
To make retracting it not as awkward, you turned back around towards the more receptive of the two and crammed yourself back into his hold.
His head rested just above yours, his leg casually kicked over your hips while he talked softly to his buddy.
Their words slowly started to blend into letters, then sounds, then noises as you drifted off. You barely felt a kiss on the top of your head and a thumb rubbing little circles in your scalp.
-
Hushed whispers, or better said, the feeling of whispers dancing across your skin, stirred you from your rest. You had no semblance of what time it was, or even where you were for a moment.
"Yeah they do--,"
"You've been saying that for months, why would should I believe you now?"
"Because!" Mirio sighed, "You saw with that hand thing. You know."
There was another pause where you tried to go back to sleep, but they started talking again. You thought to tell them to be quiet.
"(Y/n)'s-- (Y/n)'s all about you, and they've been all about you for months. That's not gonna change in one night."
Your body heat was suddenly too hot. If you didn't get far away from here, you were sure you'd burn up and die. That was your biggest secret, spoken so casually.
"I'm not saying it did," Mirio brushed over it entirely, "Liking two people at the same time isn't super uncommon."
"I know," Tamaki grumbled.
If Mirio knew this entire time, did that change all of the kisses, the touches, the jokes?
An involuntary hand twitch, derived from your spiraling panic, gave you away.
Mirio's still hand on your hip rubbed, firm and even, in an 'Oh, hello,' sort of response. It began the lull of electricity downstairs, taken to a tidal wave when he shoved his thigh in between yours and pulled you like a ragdoll onto him in a single motion.
Your brow furrowed against his upper chest in the effort it took to be silent.
"Just come here," He whispered, hand temporarily leaving the covers to Tamaki.
There was a long bit of quiet. You thought, once again, to say something, assert the fact that you heard their conversation and that you were awake.
The chance was soon over. Through a series of small motions, there was a new set of hands over you.
Tamaki's willowy, chilled fingers grazed one shoulder, while his opposite arm wrapped around your waist from underneath. A new body pressed against you.
You gripped Mirio's back and tried not to claw him. He flexed his thigh, eliciting a silent gasp, and kissed your head.
His arm was moving on something behind you, and through his insistent 'It'll be fine,' 'They're asleep, just come here,' whispers, you got what he meant when Tamaki set his leg over your hips, his hips weighing on your ass.
It was one hard cock or another. There was no room for you to move.
Your teeth sunk into his chest to quiet yourself.
"Not bad, huh?"
Dumb on the sensation of the two of them, you almost responded with a pitiful answer, but Tamaki's voice, hot and breathy on your neck, stopped you.
"Fuck you, dude," He laughed.
"Well, if you're offering," Mirio suggested.
Sounds of deep, loving kisses followed their shared, quiet chuckles. It was somehow the least surprising thing yet.
The slow roll of his hips inspired Mirio's adjustment between your legs-- so that his hard-on was trapped against your own excitement, throbbing and pushing whenever Tamaki wasn't.
They were both pulling and stretching you in both directions.
Not only did Mirio clearly return your (apparently well-known) feelings, and Tamaki's own desire stood alarmingly intense, but they seemed comfortable sharing you and each other.
The thought hit your stomach hard and made you cling to your big, buff lifeline.
The longer you stayed still and struggled with keeping quiet, the more you realized how many times the boy behind you had to listen to your rants, sit through so many sighs and pining looks while he felt the exact same way about you.
No wonder he was pissed off earlier, and no wonder he was getting that out now.
His hand found the same spot on your tummy where Mirio had earlier, and though he felt completely different, it sent an identical, debilitating level of fire through your body.
You tried to curl, slow and undetectable, into the bulky muscle mashed against your face, but fucked up and flinched as Tamaki's mouth sucked a gentle kiss to your shoulder.
A large hand kept you still with a loving knead by the back of the head so that it didn't happen again.
Tamaki must not have felt it. He kept up his soft kisses, short and sweet, over your shoulder and neck.
You held your breath to not make any detectable noise. It felt foolish, considering how close he was and how sensitive his ears were. There was no way he couldn't hear your shaky sighs and strangled gasps at their pushing, pulling, grabbing, groping.
Fingers tangled and tugging at your roots, Mirio copied his best friend's kisses to the top of your head.
This was so much better than having to choose.
422 notes · View notes
takes1 · 2 years
Note
Hello!! I love love LOVE your writing style!! Especially with Bakugou! I think you write him perfectly!! I think it’d be really cute if Bakugou asked the reader out and they go on a date!! If not that’s perfectly okay!!
REMEMBER TO DRINK WATERRR!!!!!
<333
TYSM!!! i really try with this snooty little guy. my notes on this one said 'write him cute but obviously still make him insufferable'
Tumblr media
warnings. mild language bc it's bakugou
details. gn!reader / petting zoo / bakugou being a personal heater / fluff / 1.1k words
🤍 imagine series. more bakugou and full list here.
more links. my ao3 / bakugou nsfw headcanons / more nsfw bakugou / requests open!!
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
"Go to the petting zoo with me."
Bakugou's gruff, short demand startled you out of your organizing.
You turned to watch Kirishima, about two feet behind his buddy and leaning over a desk, pinch his nose bridge.
There must've been a script that Bakugou ignored.
When you looked back to the blond, he continued with little regard for your lack of an answer, "6:30. Friday. I'll stop by your room and we'll walk there."
A light pink dusted his ears and his hands were deep in two oversized pockets. Was he... telling you to go on a date with him? Was Kirishima here for moral support?
Either way, you were free Friday and, despite the idea being a little daunting due to his difficult nature, it appealed to you. He was kinda cute when he was quiet.
You realized your mouth was hanging open, just a little, when his eyes darted to your lips.
"Uh, yeah. Sure thing."
The color accenting his pale features took over. He didn't let the surprise show in his expression, but Kirishima gave a silent, dramatic gasp.
A petting zoo. That couldn't have been his idea. This must've been a product of a long conversation between those two inseparable boys.
He started to leave, the redhead catching up to join him. He turned for a split second and yelled, "Wear comfortable shoes!"
You covered your mouth to keep from laughing.
Kirishima patted his back, now pushing him along quicker, but he grabbed the doorframe to the classroom and barked a second order, "And don't invite anyone else!"
"It's a date!" You called after him.
A grin spread across your face, another laugh coming up, at the look on his face while he let Kirishima pull him out of the room.
The blond kept his word about the time, the place, and picking you up. When he arrived with a jacket on, you realized you may have underdressed for the weather. But since you didn't want to hear him complain about you being too slow, you bore through the bone-chilling walk to the zoo grounds with only a slight grimace.
There was surprisingly little to talk about. Between your anxious uncertainty of what exactly this outing meant and his stone-cold, yet fiery temperament, the conversation was stilted and awkward on the short walk there.
However, at the first sign of animals, you found a groove.
While he had a difficult time being approachable to people, including the workers, the animals took a great liking to Bakugou.
"Oh, wow," You grinned upon watching a herd take over your spot next to him in the rabbit enclosure.
You pulled out your phone to snap a picture, but he pointed up with his bunny-free hand and threatened you. It was weak, half-hearted even, but at his request, you decided against it.
They filled up his lap, trapped his legs, and all wanted to burrow under his warm hands. One even managed to climb into his jacket before the keepers had to pry them all off.
On the walk to another station, you found it a little less painful to talk.
"That's was really cute," You tried, one arm linked around his and he, to your pleasant surprise, didn't pull away.
He pointed his chin away from you, too proud to show you the color on his face, "It's just 'cuz they were cold."
The wind didn't sting so much when you were connected with him.
"Yeah, you're... really warm," You admitted, smiling.
Bakugou huffed, "It's my damn Quirk," like your comment was an insult.
His arm flexed when you gave his bicep a small squeeze. Between little glances on the way to the alpaca enclosure, you could watch in real-time the realization that you gave him a compliment, and that he completely interpreted it wrong.
He looked impossibly cute when he was confused.
The alpacas were the best part of the petting zoo. Due to the weather, the place wasn't so busy, so when a nice worker poured you a handful of grains to feed them, all seven fuzzy friends trotted over to meet you.
"Hello, hello, how are you," You baby-talked them all, petting behind their ears and under their chins while they enjoyed your offering of food.
All different colors and patterns, with vastly different personalities based on how interested they were in your attention, you were already starting to come up with names.
"This one looks like Deku," Bakugou muttered.
In his veiny, flushed hands was the face of a shyer alpaca.
He didn't really pet animals, you noticed. With the bunnies, he patted them gently, and with these guys, he squeezed.
"I don't really..." You trailed, struggling to see how it could possibly resemble Midoriya from the side.
It let Bakugou turn its head towards you with a wide-eyed look. It looked exactly like him. You let out a belly laugh hard enough to startle the one eating from your hand.
Everything down the way it was intimidated by him, but also kept coming back and wanted to be his friend, was accurate.
The image comparison that Bakugou pulled up on his phone left you giggling while you tried to pet the Midoriya-alpaca.
But a gush of cold wind forced you to pull away from its soft wool with a guttural, "Jeeeeez-us."
As you stared at its confused little face, arms useless around your middle, you became viciously jealous of its natural, fuzzy blanket. The cold was fine as long as the wind wasn't too bad.
You started to consider going back or to suggest walking to a cafe, somewhere inside and warm, to Bakugou-- but found that it wouldn't be needed after all.
Two big, heavy arms tugged you back and enveloped you in a shroud of warmth and comfort.
It was just in time for another strong, icy breeze too.
Bakugou's head was firm and hot against the side of yours-- the blood in his cheeks was good for something.
Under his puffy jacket, you could feel the taut muscle of his forearms flex under your shaky fingertips for all they were worth, just as stupid with nerves as you.
"Should've brought a jacket, dumbass," He mumbled, lips accidentally brushing your burning ear.
Your laugh was forced and difficult since you could hardly breathe.
When he lifted his arm to continue petting a curious Alpac-doriya, you realized he didn't intend on letting you go.
The relaxed plushness of his chest, his sweet scent, and his soft, warm jacket were all so addictive you didn't dare say a thing or move an inch.
You could get used to this.
618 notes · View notes
takes1 · 2 years
Text
dabi becoming obsessed with inexperienced!reader p.5
thank you so much for the support!! you wouldn't believe the things i watched to get d. piercing accuracy here :,) this picks up right where the last one left off!
Tumblr media
warnings. nsfw, mentions of gaslighting, dabi kinda pushing some boundaries, dabi bleeds from the mouth and doesn't care lmao
details. fem!reader / lov recruit!reader / inexperienced!reader / corruption!kink dabi / healing quirk!reader / edging / praise / lots of d. piercings / oral sex (m receiving) / premature ejaculation / dumbification-ish / dabi pops a stitch / yandere!dabi / 3.4k words
🤍 scenario series. dabi p.1 + p.4 and full list here.
more links. my ao3 / dabi headcanons / requests open!!
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
The back of your head was buzzing from where he muttered sweet things against your hair, actively easing you down from your climax and back to the land of the living. A blanket covered only you.
"(Y/n)."
"Huh?" You were busy shimmying your arm under his back to wrap around his waist. Only after you completed this task, was when you spared a sleepy glance to his expectant face.
He pulled you in for another messy kiss, "'Asked if you're okay."
As soon as he loosened his grip, you sunk your head onto his chest with a prolonged blink.
"Mmmhm."
It was odd, but you didn't care that you weren't clothed under your modesty blanket anymore. Your chest was pressed against him, but there was no room for embarrassment or shame after you came that hard.
While he fixed the pillows behind his head, you found it more comfortable to turn your head down, towards his hips so you weren't jostled around as much.
He said something under his breath, but you couldn't hear him.
The print was so clear that it almost made his sweatpants pointless. Your breath stalled and the hand on his tummy rubbed, gently so as to not irritate his skin, across taut muscle as you tried to imagine what it felt like.
Would it be warm? Or like the rest of him? Was it scarred? Did he have stitches there?
It was big-- how would it look in your hand?
"Hey," Dabi's firm grip on the back of your neck, close to your hairline, didn't hurt, but was enough to divert your attention.
The frustration in his brow eased up when you turned your head to him. There was that precious face he just could never stay mad at. He'd repeat himself a million times if it meant he could have you.
"God, it's like talkin' to a brick wall," He joked, idle hand rested behind his head.
It wasn't your fault he had so many distractions. You gave a dumb smile, "Am I pretty brick wall?"
His laugh was subtle and scratchy, a sound you wanted to replicate over and over again. You sat up on your elbows and mustered up some courage.
While he was gearing up to tell you 'sure,' you took the opportunity to jut out your request with the least amount of unwanted, punctuating quiet possible, "Can I see it?"
It didn't work. His laugh faded with his growing smirk and you had to sit in apprehensive silence anyway.
"See what, doll?"
All that bravery dissolved to make room for the heat crawling up your neck. To combat the growing need to tell him 'Nevermind,' you rested your head once more on his chest with a look that made him crack out another chuckle.
He massaged your scalp once more, eyebrow cocked, "C'mon pretty girl, don't pout. Use your words."
A big, dramatic sigh. "You know..."
His grin only widened, eyes glinting with a mischievous sparkle, "I don't think I do."
Since the first sigh didn't work, you pushed out another and flipped around to look back at his hips, the hem of his briefs a tempting barrier to toy with, since he was so determined on making you say something vulgar.
But touching it was worse than saying it, so you were in quite a pickle.
"That," You whined.
Smooth fingers trailed from your neck, to your shoulders, to your back, kneading your skin while he waited on you to tell him what you wanted.
Maybe a kiss would convince him to let it go. You took great pride in leaning up, climbing a little more on top of him, to give him a big kiss, then another big kiss, then another, another, and another, until you were certain that was enough and parted.
Eyes low, both hands pulling you towards him, he muttered against your lips, "Ya wanna see my cock, sweetheart?"
A shudder so strong it made you jump away from him ran straight up your spine. He started laughing and sat up to pull your stiff body back in, but you made no such noises.
"God, you're so cute," He sighed, hooking his thumb into his waistband while you tried to lay back onto him, "Just, warnin' you that it's... decorated."
You flashed a confused glance to his face, but couldn't cycle through many hypotheses before his shiny, thick cock sprang free and hit his navel.
There was some light, trimmed hair. He looked like a natural blond, almost. So many silver piercings down his long shaft and a big, pointy one sticking out of the top all were scary enough to make you flinch away.
"Woah..." Escaped your lips.
Your eyes, wide and sparkly, were completely transfixed on so many things at once, you didn't know what to say, what to think, other than:
"Does that hurt?"
The nails raking lazily across your skin paused for a second. He huffed out a laugh and an eye roll, "It's not the piercings that hurt-- it's the blue balls."
You peered to get a better look and found that he did not have balls that were blue. When you looked up at his narrowed eyes again, he gave you a hard smooch to the forehead-- as if to say, 'You cute little dumbass.'
"Not literally," He grabbed his dick so casually you thought maybe he forgot you were right there, but he was admiring your face with an intensity that debunked your theory right away, "Just- fuckin' hurts when it's hard for too long."
A small, apologetic kiss set his nerves ablaze; while you were focused on his lips, he stroked his cock slowly to ease the tension in his groin. It did fuck-all, since he had to stop almost right away.
The warm palm rubbing on his toned stomach was about to be shoved off.
"Can I... touch it?"
Not only did he decide to let the hand stay, but he also let you get away with your vague wording.
He shoved your head into his upper chest and gave your temple a hard kiss that made you laugh, "If that's what ya want, baby girl."
His rough ways were starting to show through, but you didn't mind it so much. If that was how he expressed how much he liked you, then you could try to get used to it.
As you hovered a tentative hand above the thing resting on his stomach, he moved his own away, thinking that was why you hesitated.
In actuality, it was because, "Where should I...? Your, uhh, piercings..."
"Anywhere," He failed to swallow his impatience, so he chased his bitter words with a sweeter, "You're not gonna hurt me."
Your hand couldn't have been a better fit for his miserable cock.
He felt like the virgin, eyes unfocusing while you squeezed and tugged, slow and unsure. A warm sigh brushed past your ear and he took to soft traces on your back with his sharp, painted nails.
The metal nobs between your knuckles moved with the skin. A little weird, but not surprising when you started to think about piercings in the general sense. It made you wonder about the big one, though.
"Does that feel okay?" You muttered against his chest.
A wheeze skimmed your cheek, "Babe, you could bite it and it'd feel great."
While he did have a thing for that and was trying to plant the idea of sucking him off in your head, it was a true statement.
Eight dick piercings, countless others, a body covered in scars that consistently reopened of his own accord? The guy had an impressive pain tolerance.
"Ya wanna go a little faster?" He suggested, deliberate with his polite tone, but never more restless under the surface.
Dabi didn't wait around for you to decide on an answer-- he wanted a real handjob.
A much larger, colder hand engulfed your own. Your tummy was hit with a jolt of electricity as he started to use your hand in the proper way, moving with an actual range of motion instead of just holding.
"You like that, huh?" He asked to hide the budding moan in his throat.
You smiled, guilty, and moved to lay on your back to share a few clumsy, sideways kisses. It was hard multitasking.
The blanket over you moved, exposing your form, under his hand's guidance, and you surprised yourself with a comfortable stretch to let it happen. His adoring, handsome smile made you never want to wear clothes again.
He left a string of spit to snap between your mouths in favor of watching you help pump his cock, then run a confident hand down the curves of your body, straight between your thighs.
Your free hand clawed his forearm, thighs pressing together with a nervous laugh. It didn't make him retract his hand like you thought it would.
"I'm-- still sensitive," You told him clearly.
His grip was close to crushing yours around himself, his groans audible and tangible from your head on his chest. You gave an alarmed sound at his skilled fingers breaking past your grip anyway.
Another shade of red, not from embarrassment or anything nice, covered your pained face when his fingers glided over your sore clit.
You arched away from him, hand wrapped hard around his strong wrist, "Mm, Dabi-!"
"Fuck," He retracted his hand and opted to give your hip an apologetic rub, "Sorry-- shit, you just..."
In order to be agreeable, you relaxed again and accepted his 'I'm sorry' kisses. You let him keep using your hand too, though he was slower now.
"So sorry, baby," He mumbled against your brow, tickling your face.
You smiled at the sensation and his additional worry. When he pulled away, conflicted behind the eyes, you felt the need to smooth it all over with words.
"Do I really feel that good?"
It was so quiet, spoken so saccharine, he was yanked out of his spiraling thoughts and into a hyper-focus on your mouth.
The same out-of-body experience took over and his thumb was, suddenly, brushing the shared spit off of your bottom lip. Better than your cherry chap stick, that's for sure.
His eyelids felt heavy, his stomach flexed with the thought of taking your pretty mouth-- he just couldn't get enough of you.
"Nothin' better," He sighed.
You took his lingering thumb between your teeth with a playful smile. There was a squeeze around your hand and he looked away with a restrained hum.
"Really?" A bit of a challenging tone, but he didn't catch it in his trance.
His head leaned back to relax on the pillow, pondering on how long he could get away with edging his orgasm. He sure as hell couldn't look at you for too long if he wanted to keep stalling.
"Aah, yep, yeah-- Really, really."
The distracted answer helped you make up your mind. It couldn't be that difficult. Like sucking on a popsicle or something, right? As long as he didn't get Gung-ho all of a sudden.
Your fingers pushed back on his to let go, and while he was extremely hesitant, he released your aching hand when he considered that he could've done something wrong again.
Except, as you sat up and struggled to find a graceful way to get between his legs, it was clear the action was one of necessity.
Those eyes. His thighs flexed to try to sober up his cock a little, but once you got comfortable, ankles crossed in the air, it was completely trivial. This was about to be a record-quick finish for him.
"So pretty," He chuckled at you popping your wrist, gentle fingers tracing gently over your hairline.
This angle was daunting. It looked gigantic and so complicated, you didn't know how to start or what to touch. His dick was like a big piece of machinery you were not certified to handle.
The confusion, or insecurity, must have been obvious on your face, because he stopped scanning you so thoroughly, reclined to put his hands behind his head, and said, "Just do whatever 'till white stuff comes out."
He knew that would embarrass you, judging by the shit-eating grin waiting on his face.
He wasn't wrong, just brash.
When you picked it up, the heaviness caught your attention first, then the up-close view of each piercing. One was more than enough to make you cringe, why did he get so many?
In a slow, testing motion, you followed the pattern up to the tip with a flat tongue. It thankfully tasted like the rest of him.
You spared a glance up to him, but his eyes were closed and his face was pointed to the ceiling, so you got by with entertaining yourself for the moment.
It was easier with the new angle since you had more freedom to pump him with either hand.
The pace you chose stayed slower than what he did earlier while you pressed messy kisses onto a pretty, reddish-pink head. It kinda looked like it was blushing at you.
More long licks up the sides turned into sucking, gentle kisses as you got up to the tip again.
You dipped your head a little lower, the head completely in your mouth, and tried to be careful of your teeth with his big piercing.
His abs moved and flexed every which way. His arms looked strained, too, his chest rising and falling at an irregular rate. He just wasn't making much noise and still wouldn't look at you.
What a beautiful man.
Your tongue worked in slow, circling motions while you watched and thought. Under the surface, you could tell he had the worst self-esteem by how clingy he was-- but it didn't make any sense when he looked like that.
Someone must've made him feel unwanted a long time ago.
Something salty made you pull away. You reached up to tap your tongue and look at what was on your fingers, then look at the head of his cock with a face that made him laugh.
"That's just precum, babe."
You made a suspicious face and stared hard at the bead of clear falling down his wet cock.
He laughed again but it was as breathy, uneven as his words, "What, ya don't like how it tastes?"
Considering that Dabi ran on a diet of pills, energy drinks, and Slim Jims, he understood your No-Answer-answer. He was nowhere near as sweet as you.
Now that he was watching you again, it was a little harder to keep going, but you could manage if you didn't have to look up at him for too long.
He asked, tone practically candied, "Ya wanna make me cum, baby?"
You raised your head, taking the tip out of your mouth again, and gave the area near his piercing a good lick. "Ah-huh."
His jaw twitched, eyes a little narrower with a sigh. He loved whatever that was.
"Ya trust me?"
His hands unlaced from behind his head and your eyes narrowed a little, your mouth lifting from him.
A big grin plastered across his face, palms facing you, "Damn, I'll take that as a no."
It wasn't your fault Dabi seemed like the type to push your head. His reaction made you feel bad, but there was no amount of gaslighting that would make you choke on a sharp metal thing.
He cracked his knuckles with a sigh and while one returned to its place behind his head, the other stayed on his tummy.
You stared at it, tongue darting out for another sloppy kiss.
"Was just gonna teach ya how to use your cheek, but since you think I'm gonna kill ya..."
You hesitated. Now you wanted to know. But he looked too stubborn to help himself out. You could just hear the 'No, no, you missed your chance,' and see the dumb smile.
It stumped you for a minute. Using your cheek?
So he watched, entertained, as you figured it out on your own.
It required you to open your mouth more, which felt kinda embarrassing, and press the side of his cock into the inside of your cheek. You felt like a dumb chipmunk.
There was no way this was what he meant.
"There ya go."
When you moved, his piercings caught your teeth, no matter how wide you opened your jaw. You had to wipe some drool off of your chin when it was out.
Dabi didn't care about all the messy stuff, and the more you did with him, the more you understood he was into it.
"I was gonna ask if you'd let me, ya know, help ya out," His hand motioned to you, and when you hesitated, he added in an exaggerated tone, "I'll be real gentle, don't worry."
That weird thing he did earlier crossed your mind and told you not to, but it was hard to have a spine when he was so nice, so into you.
"Promise?"
"Ya got my word."
You weren't sure how much that actually meant, but you could always bite him if he lied.
And lying didn't seem to be in the cards, this time. He guided your head to a more comfortable spot, told you where to put your tongue, and reassured you that your teeth didn't hurt -and that even if they did, he 'liked it'-.
All his hands did were keep you at a certain angle with he fucked your cheek. As long as you were still, and kept your mouth open, he was satisfied.
"Yeah-- fuck, just like that," Dabi craned his head back for a moment with a sharp groan, "Such a good girl."
You weren't even doing anything, but he made you feel good about it.
Your jaw was getting so sore so quickly, but when you went to pull away, his hold was firmer than you thought. You could breathe, so it wasn't necessarily a big deal yet.
Plus, he really liked this. It was the first time you heard him, really heard him enjoying himself, and it was even hotter than you imagined.
As pretty much the only thing you could do, you looked up at him to see a crooked, strained grin turn red.
He was bleeding.
Blood stained some of his teeth, dripped in a dark trail down his chin and onto his chest. The expression on his face wasn't one of pain, despite a stitch at the corner of his mouth being snapped open.
Maybe it was due to your profession, or just plain care for the guy, but you couldn't focus knowing that he was bleeding and you had the power to stop it. The fresher a wound was, the better you could heal it-- so you shoved his hands away from your head with a fair amount of force.
Once again, you had to wipe even more drool away and swallow first with a deep breath, before quickly climbing onto him.
"You're bleeding," You felt the need to point out, since he didn't seem to care at all.
He was so out of breath when you took his face in both of your hands, inches away from your own.
Of course, you didn't mean to sit on him, but once you did, he locked his arms down and wouldn't let you rise again.
Dabi's face hardened, a rough sound rising as you healed him, but he kept his dark eyes locked on you. That little pout on your lips, the feeling of his face in your gentle hands, your tight little pussy grinding on him were all so much.
His piercings knocked against your clit, everything wet from your spit and the excitement you accumulated while sucking him off.
The hard, locked stare shifted back into his sockets as he squeezed his eyes shut and accepted that this was the most humiliating way he would ever finish.
"A-agh, God," He gasped, nails digging into your ass so hard it jerked you forward, "Fu-ck-!"
You could only watch in astonishment, mixed with a little pride, as he came a mess all over his own stomach. His hips stalled. His hands slowly lost their strength.
An amused smile and keen eyes bouncing from his exhausted, flushed expression, to his still solid friend made him huff out a rushed explanation, "That's, uh, t-his, that's never'appenedbefore--,"
You shut him up with a charged kiss.
He was too shy to even kiss you back, too ashamed to look you in the eyes, so you let him rest a heavy head on your bare shoulder.
The whole display was such a turn-on, you didn't realize your grinding was noticed until he squeezed you to a halt.
"I loved it," You smiled against his silky hair.
taglist:
@ptv-hades @croomdoom @orenjineki @dxrkdreamer @mirayasimpinghard @whore-for-anime-men @moonlightmiya @tojicvmslut @all-in-the-fandoms @aether-crystal @starsforannie @zahra030208 @pigeons-are-rad @wack0-genius
735 notes · View notes
takes1 · 2 years
Text
dabi becoming obsessed with inexperienced!reader p.4
really tried to honor the 'obsessed' part of the series here ! tysm for the support i really enjoy writing this !! apologies for the wait, i was on hiatus and this is a LOT longer than intended (i had to split this part bc it would have been 6k, so there will be 1 part tomorrow night, and the final part in about a week)
Tumblr media
warnings. nsfw, dabi being super clingy
details. fem!reader / lov recruit!reader / inexperienced!reader / corruption!kink dabi / healing quirk!reader / lots of foreplay / overstim / praise / oral sex (f receiving) / sorta dumbification? / yandere?dabi / i would call this a comfort fic too / 2.9k words
🤍 scenario series. dabi p.1 + p.3 + next part / full list here.
more links. my ao3 / dabi headcanons / requests open!!
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Dabi pretended not to hear the balcony door open and shut behind him. He stayed leaning on the cool railing, breathing in the mix of brisk evening air and cigarette smoke, trying to sober up his fuzzy brain. Maybe it wasn't you.
A hand, the size and shape of which he had dedicated to memory already, pressed lightly on the width of his upper back.
So much for getting a break. Strong waves of warmth radiated from his chest, twisted his stomach, made his legs a little weak. He took another drag to fight the uncomfortable sensation.
His free hand gripped the railing when your hand was replaced by your soft lips, gentle arms wrapping around his waist.
Your voice invaded the dark quiet, "Just wanted to say hi."
When your touch, your sound, was gone all too quickly in order to leave him be, Dabi couldn't stop himself from reaching back to pull you in, closer, tighter, against his own will.
He hated how much he liked you. It distracted him, confused him, consumed him.
You were giggling through his readjustment to smush you between his body and the handrail. A chilled, messy kiss to your forehead and a big hand in your hair made you push your face into the comfort of his chest.
He asked, making sure to blow his smoke away from you, "You have a good shift?"
A hum was all he needed to know. Some days were worse than others, sometimes you didn't want to talk about it. One and the same, in that regard-- it was less effort to just ignore those negative feelings when you were together.
"Did'ja eat yet?"
Your hands rubbed across his broad back in no particular pattern, just determined to feel every bit of him you could. With the side of your head against him, you could hear the rumble of his breathing and found solace there.
It was always strained, a little wheezy. You called it 'crispy.'
"Hey," He said with a harder tone, pulling you back by the hair to look at him.
That startled look. God, he loved it.
He enunciated his question a little better, "Did you eat?"
"M'yeah," You mumbled, looking back down to his neckline, where you wanted to hide away, "I said yeah."
Dabi released you with a sigh and you pushed the side of your face into him again. It happened so much that he wasn't surprised, where you thought you responded to him but didn't because your head was only filled up with how he felt, smelled, looked, sounded.
Those questions, and occasionally lacking answers, were routine-- just like when he asked how much water you drank, or made you shower no matter how tired you were. He was no authority on health, but it was different when you didn't take care of yourself. It affected him more.
A gust of wind almost blew the cigarette out of his hand. You jumped and let him go to hold your arms closer to your own body, grabbing his shirt to cover your freezing face.
Dabi ran cold, so it wasn't much help.
He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and discarded the butt onto the parking lot below, the last of his smoke blown away in the direction of the strong breeze-- usually, he'd put it out in the ashtray, but he needed to get you inside.
"Alright," He groaned, placing two hands on the sides of your waist, and lifting you off of your feet into an embrace, "Cuddles?"
Boy, did you have him whipped. Before whatever this was, 'cuddles' were like a punishment to his libido. He didn't indulge in that soft, touchy, kissy, mushy shit unless it meant he'd get to fuck in return. After just under two weeks, having you in his arms was the only way he could fall asleep.
Shivering legs wrapped around the top of his waist, always careful of his friend down there, as you gave the side of his neck a deep, approving smooch.
You were the only girl that kissed his scars like that. Like they were something to cherish, to worship, because it was part of him and that automatically made them worth loving.
He tried not to let it go to his head and pulled open his room door.
The private access to the balcony was, in your opinion, one of the only two perks of his room. It wasn't initially intended to be a bedroom-- it was technically a large storage closet with hardly enough room for a bed and a desk.
Dabi didn't mind the small space. He told you, upon choosing this over rooming with Shigaraki and the other guys, that he valued his privacy above 'wiggle room,' and that the balcony was practically part of the floor plan.
Now, you were glad you gave in to his request because you were lucky to have any alone time at all.
Your teeth clinked, noses brushed, as he fell into a kiss while pushing your back into the bouncy mattress. Both of you smiled into it.
His hands were always steady, always knowing where to go, how to get there, which the right amount of pressure. Yours, however, were far less familiar with this kind of contact.
Messy, clumsy, a little shaky, but enthusiastic nonetheless, best described the way you touched him. He was so glad you wanted to that he was fine waiting until you figured it out.
Cuddling, kissing, and rubbing were all you could handle for the first part of your arrangement, but rushing you wasn't appealing to him anymore.
He thought, in the beginning, he couldn't handle waiting around for pussy, but soon found that your little milestones were rewarding enough to keep him around. His patience was thinning, but he discovered ways to distract himself.
Teaching you how to kiss, how to make/take hickeys, finding out how he liked his hugs and how you liked yours (and realizing they worked well together), how to use your tongue, your teeth, how to pull hair correctly, how to cuddle, were all worth the delay.
It was all by your word. He did what you said you wanted, and he did it well.
And you couldn't get enough of him. New hands couldn't leave him alone, you always wanted his arms around you, to see his pretty face up close.
"How was your day?" You asked, guiding his hands up your shirt while he snacked on the soft part of your neck.
Dabi's hair was silky soft, now that you healed it every time you were together.
Hot breath and a firm squeeze to your ribs made you squirm. You held him tighter, legs locked around his waist.
"Was alright. Had another deal."
When you went to tug his head up, he dodged it and let you see his face of his own accord. You were still rusty on the 'pull by the roots' rule.
He gave you a somewhat amused stare and said, firmly, but with a smile he couldn't erase, "I'm fine. Nothing went wrong."
Ever since you became 'useful' after one of their deals went sour with a particularly indecisive gang, and Dabi came back with a few staples out of place, and many, many burns, you were ultra-aware of how much you were needed and even more sensitive to his ailments.
Concern glossed over in your eyes, so close to his, and he was thrown back to that day where you held his face in your hands to heal him. That instance was the first time in too long anyone had expressed that level of care for his wellbeing.
It was impossible not to be infatuated with you after that.
Your worry almost made him want to get into more trouble just to summon that loving reaction he constantly craved. Similar to how he strived to get a rise out of you with inappropriate jokes, or the occasional ass grab in the kitchen.
He struggled to sit back on his thighs, instead of grinding into you. It was too fast.
Unhappy with this motion and unaware of why he moved away, you pulled him back in, only to receive a playful shove in return.
The strain in his stomach was especially strong today. Your tiny moment of concern wasn't making it any better, but he couldn't bring himself to ruin a beautiful moment with his all-too-eager hard on.
A small huffy noise made him slap your thigh, playful but safe.
"Come here," You whined.
He didn't fight you as you brought his kneading hand up to your hip, but he did roll his eyes and mutter, "'Don't wanna freak you out again."
That would happen no matter what he did, you both knew. There was something bigger he didn't want to or simply couldn't articulate under his excuse.
"I won't freak out," You reached up for his other hand, idle as concealment on his lap.
Those big, pretty eyes staring up at his, your hand outstretched just for him, set his chest to a temperature much hotter than his own flames were capable of.
"Goddamn," He spat, settling over you once more, "Stop lookin' at me like that."
You got your way again, but this time, were more sensitive to how you made him hurt. Ankles latching around him, you tried to catch your breath at the perfect sensation of his clothed erection. Was that his heartbeat, or yours?
While he tried to un-feel the surging biological need to buck, by pushing more weight on you and pressing little kisses across your jaw, words stuck and struggled to drive past your lips.
"Can you... um, take-- my,"
Take you? He'd totally take you right now. He stalled a deliberate exhale, praying you'd just give in already.
"I just want to know how it feels, when, like," You were about to finish your sentence, but he was staring so hard, the shame shut you up.
Your face was so hot.
"What?"
A flustered sigh. "My-- my shirt, can you, and,"
Dabi finally understood what you wanted. Not quite fucking, but something other than kissing, finally.
A lifted, "Of course," left his mouth a little too cheerily, as if some rough, enthusiastic kisses to your temple weren't enough to tell you, 'About time you let me do something fun.'
Icy fingertips zipped, refreshing yet intense, across your heated sides and made quick work of your flimsy shirt.
He was sure to apprehend your arms that went to cover your tummy, opting for a firm hold at the wrists instead of his usual finger-lacing. You got the hint and placed your hands over your warm face.
His teeth and tongue were an odd sensation on your stomach, but you kinda liked it.
It was just under a slight tickle and would've succeeded in putting you at ease, if he hadn't rushed to reach behind your back.
A flash of cold air over your chest and the sound of your bra being thrown far, far away sent a shiver down your spine.
"Oooooh, fuck yeah," Dabi sucked many hungry kisses into your pillowy flesh, his low, growl-like moan making your thighs squeeze around his middle, "You just get nice and comfortable, baby girl."
You didn't need to look at him to know that he was grinning from ear to ear.
Dabi didn't classify himself as a tits-guy, but you could've made him one.
Your squirming, despite his body weighing heavy on you and limiting your wiggle room, paired nicely with the small, soft whines muffled against your palm.
That didn't last, though, as he reached for your forearm to bring unsure fingers to his head. He wanted to hear everything. He felt your slowly rocking hips against his lower stomach and only wished to give you his trapped cock instead.
Concentrated, piercing pleasure fluttered from where the ball of his tongue piercing swiped across your raised bud.
It was funny how intensity ended up being so subjective.
He kissed the center of your chest, pleasant, but it didn't carry as much as it did before he started. It kept building. You needed more.
"Mmh-- ahh," It was starting to get harder to keep your mouth closed, harder not to grind on him when he started pinching you between his teeth.
He slid the flat of his tongue against you, the corners of his mouth lifted. His eyes were just as cloudy with the formations of recklessness as yours.
Another messy kiss under your breast gave you a clear view of his sharp, working jaw as he chuckled, "Good girl."
It went straight to the imaginary strings tightening in your tummy-- your thighs squeezed him, your hand desperately clinging to his scalp. But it wasn't enough.
"C'mere," You slurred, almost forgetting to swallow all the gathered spit in your mouth as you tugged his mouth off of you, "Please."
He lived for that blacked-out look in your eyes. He could only feverishly imagine what you looked like fucked dumb, all ruined and mute from a good pounding.
Dabi didn't waste a second to pin your greedy hips down with his own and swallow all the pretty sounds you made at his heavy bulge straining on you.
You pulled away with a gasp, grabbing at his shoulders at the feeling, but he didn't stop.
He was getting breathy, too, biting with hot, baited sighs against your neck. If he tried, he could probably cum from this.
"You want my mouth, baby?"
His trifling, horrible brain just had to ruin it-- when he heard a pitifully cute yes crammed into his big shoulder, the raving egomaniac in him wanted to take his offer back, tell you he was kidding; he'd fuck you instead because he didn't have the patience for this.
Yet, the overwhelming consensus in his ill-intentioned mind was to not give in to the pain that had somehow spread to his sides.
Since when was eating a chick out something he wanted to do? He usually only did it as a favor before getting to the fun stuff, but he craved the taste of you on his tongue.
As he shifted away from your tight grip, sparing a smirk at your nerves, he made easy work of your pants and once again, made sure to put them far out of reach for later.
You flinched hard at a slow, kissy nick to your inner thigh, almost taking him out with a kick-- he let out a breathy laugh against you and tugged your whole body closer so you wouldn't do it a second time.
"Easy, easy," He cooed, "I won't bite too hard."
The look in his eyes, for as long as you could stand to keep your terrified gaze on him, said completely otherwise.
Careful to keep you from another physical backlash, he turned his attention to your pussy in the form of an over-the-panties, open-mouthed kiss.
Absolutely soaked through, he found-- the color was supposed to be light gray, he noticed, not dark gray. All that kissing and 'getting nowhere' was good for at least one of you.
"I'm flattered, babe," He teased, sliding them off with a knowing smirk at your rattled expression.
Unlike the rest of your clothes, he felt the need to keep these. You barely noticed him shoving something into his pocket with a nice, long kiss to your waiting clit.
A little squeak at the overwhelming buzz made him grin and give you a blur of many more.
He started gentle, always looking up at you to catch an adorable avoidance of eye contact and make sure you liked what he did. His tongue was light, conscious of the metal and how to use it. He never sucked too hard.
But, as his fingers dug into your plush thighs, your sounds, the taste of your sex, your pleasure started to become more of a lifeline than a favor.
The tip of his tongue teased your entrance, and, well, you never thought much about what his nose could do for you before now.
You bit your bottom lip with a giddy hum and realized you were smiling.
Dabi didn't mind trying to get a bit of friction out of the cold mattress beneath him. You were so perfect, so right under his tongue that it didn't matter he wasn't getting his, anymore.
He sucked and lapped up most of the wet. The rest dripped, messy and ignored, from his chin. It was a struggle to not prod a couple of fingers into you, but the desire for his cock to be the first was stronger than his curiosity.
"Aa-h, fuck--," Your legs flexed in his grip, so he readjusted to keep you still, the way he wanted.
That fluttery thing he did with his tongue piercing was shoving you much closer to a finish than you were ready for. When it was just you, your own hands, it never built up this fast.
A knowing mumble, low and drunk against your clit, nursed you to a rushed, powerful climax, "That's it, baby, go 'head 'n cum for me..."
Tidal waves of bliss washed over you, drowning your senses in the aftermath and the addictive praise he gave you just for finishing.
His voice was so hot, you barely understood anything he said, but liked the way it sounded.
There was a ringing in your ears, a blur to your vision, but you felt okay. Relaxed, appreciated, satisfied, while he tore himself off of your swollen clit and slowly settled next to you. He moved your sleepy form to his liking.
[not meant to be cut off here but i had to limit the word count, next part will be up tomorrow night babes !! so sorry!]
taglist:
@ptv-hades @croomdoom @orenjineki @dxrkdreamer @mirayasimpinghard @whore-for-anime-men @moonlightmiya @tojicvmslut @all-in-the-fandoms @aether-crystal @starsforannie @zahra030208 @pigeons-are-rad
753 notes · View notes
takes1 · 2 years
Text
e. fukukado (ms. joke) hcs
____________________
warnings. nsfw, minors stay off my lawn!!
details. gn!reader
notes. requests open!! / my ao3 as always
🤍 hc series. full list here. t. iida next!!
____________________
Tumblr media
- switch: she likes to dom most of the time and have her fun. but she's fluid and also enjoys taking orders.
- tickle kink: outside of using her quirk, getting people to laugh organically is how she connects. mostly used as a playful way to ease up your nerves at first, it would then escalate into a sexual habit-- the accidental brush of your side, while she's between your legs, is one of her favorites.
- overstimulation kink: also coincides with the tickling thing, she's always striving to get an intense reaction out of you. wants you begging for her to stop, and when she does, whine for her to keep going.
- power play: takes top/bottom roles pretty seriously. finds the expectations comforting, and likes to reiterate that you're all hers, nobody else's-- but likes it better when she hears it from you, unprompted.
- laughing/sensual sadist: laughing sadists find pain funny, sensual sadists find pain sexual. i feel like she'd laugh as a reaction, but find it really hot if you take what she inflicts, whether that be light taps or some super rough handling. liiives for your stalled breath and tears.
- crybaby: half of these kinks are only applicable to her s/o. she does not bear any kind of harsh 'funishments' well when she has to take them. really big on anticipation, so if you act like you're going to give her a firm ass slap, the flinch is just as rewarding, if not more so, than if you actually did it.
- pillow princess: if she bottoms, like previously mentioned, she likes getting spoiled and wants all the attention, all the love, and won't do much giving. she looks so pretty doing nothing, though, so she gets a pass.
29 notes · View notes
takes1 · 2 years
Note
grats on 290 followers! enjoy your break~ 💕
AEEAAEAAEAEAAGSAEAASEA you are so lovely i had a good break TYSM i LOVE YOU
Tumblr media
2 notes · View notes