BNHA BOYS As Book Tropes - PART 2:

A BOXERS STRUGGLES !

ft. boxer!katsuki bakugo x f!reader

summary: Bakugo is fiercely dedicated to becoming Japan's number one boxer, but he faces inner conflict when he starts developing feelings for someone. His fear of distraction threatens his rise to the top, creating tension between his personal life and his aspirations. As their relationship deepens, he learns to balance his love for her with his desire to succeed in boxing. [wc: 5k]

The gym stank of sweat and blood. The air was thick with the sounds of fists pounding heavy bags, the rhythmic shuffle of footwork against the mat, and the sharp commands of coaches drilling fighters into champions.

This was Katsuki Bakugo’s world. The ring was his domain. The roar of a crowd? Just white noise. The only thing that mattered was the moment his fist connected—the instant he proved, without question, that he was better.

His opponent staggered back, legs wobbling. His ribs were bruised, his breath shallow. He was still standing, barely, but Bakugo could already see it in his eyes.

He was finished.

Aizawa’s voice rang through the gym. “Stay sharp, Bakugo.”

Katsuki Bakugo stood in the center of the ring, fists clenched in his taped-up hands, his breath controlled despite the fire burning in his chest. His opponent for today’s spar was already on his knees, clutching his ribs, coughing through the pain.

“Get up,” Bakugo growled, shaking out his fists. “I ain’t done with ya’ yet.”

The other fighter grimaced trying everything in his power to rise, but before he could, the coach called it.

“That’s enough, Bakugo!” His trainer, Aizawa, sighed from outside the ropes, arms crossed over his chest. “I told you to spar, not destroy.”

Bakugo clicked his tongue and turned away, grabbing a towel from the corner post to wipe the sweat off his face.

“If he’s too weak to take a hit, he shouldn’t be in the ring,” he muttered, stepping out of the ropes.

“That ‘weak’ fighter you just knocked out was ranked fifth in the region.”

“Then I guess I’m already top four.”

Aizawa exhaled through his nose and shook his head lightly, but there was the ghost of a smirk in his otherwise impassive expression. Bakugo had talent—raw, explosive talent that had propelled him through the rankings faster than anyone had expected. But he had a fatal flaw.

He fought like a man trying to bury something.

Something he was afraid to lose.

Bakugo exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders as he looked down at his fallen opponent. It wasn’t personal. It never was. The guy had stepped into the ring knowing what he was getting into. If you weren’t ready to fall, you shouldn’t be fighting.

“Damn, man!”

The sound of Kirishima’s voice cut through the noise before Bakugo felt a heavy arm slap against his back. “That was sick! You dropped him like a sack of bricks.”

Bakugo clicked his tongue, walking toward his corner to unwrap the tape from his hands. “Tch. If he went down that easy, he shouldn’t have been in the ring with me.”

Bakugo clicked his tongue, walking toward his corner to unwrap the tape from his hands. “Tch. If he went down that easy, he shouldn’t have been in the ring with me in the first place.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. You’re a beast.” Kirishima laughed, leaning against the ropes. “Which is exactly why you need to come out tonight. We’re celebrating.”

Bakugo shot him a glare. “The hell we are.”

“C’monnn, man! You’ve been tearing through the ranks like crazy. People are talking. You’re undefeated, making a name for yourself, and you’ve got fans.” Kirishima smirked. “I mean, how many guys get this far at our age?”

“I’m not doing this for a goddamn party,” Bakugo muttered, tossing the used tape into the trash.

Kirishima groaned. “Bro. You never do anything outside the gym. You don’t even celebrate your own wins.”

Because there was nothing to celebrate. Winning wasn’t the goal—it was the standard.

Bakugo was going to be the best boxer in Japan. That wasn’t just some damn dream or some nice idea to hope for. It was a fact. Something inevitable. And if it wasn’t inevitable, then he just had to train even harder than before.

There was no reason to slow down.

No reason to waste time at some party.

But Kirishima was still looking at him, hopeful as ever, and Bakugo knew the bastard wouldn’t shut up about it.

He clicked his tongue. “Tch. Fine. But I’m not staying long.”

Kirishima cheered. “Hell yeah!”

This is a waste of time.

Bakugo knew it. He knew he should be in the gym, working on his footwork, watching fight tapes, doing something, anything, to get ahead of the competition.

But he ignored the voice in his head, just this once.

Plus, was the worst that could happen?

The party was loud. So agonizing loud.

The bass from the speakers thumped through the floors, shaking the walls of the packed apartment. People were everywhere, drinking, laughing, talking too damn much. Some of them he recognized—fighters from the gym, people from the local boxing circuit—but most of them were just randoms.

“Here.” Kirishima shoved a drink into his hand.

Bakugo took one look at it and scoffed. “I ain’t drinking that shit.”

Kirishima rolled his eyes. “Man, at least pretend you’re having fun.”

Bakugo didn’t respond. He was already regretting this.

He didn’t belong here.

This wasn’t his world.

He was about to leave when Kirishima perked up, eyes lighting up as he spotted someone across the room. “Oh, shit! She actually came.”

Bakugo barely glanced over. “Who?”

Kirishima grinned. “That girl I told you about—(Y/N).”

Bakugo finally looked.

You weren’t flashy like some of the other girls here. You weren’t trying to be the center of attention, weren’t draped over some guy’s arm, weren’t looking at him like he was some kind of goddamn celebrity.

You were just sitting there, talking to a friend, nursing a drink in your hand. You didn’t even seem all that interested in the party at all.

And somehow, that was the first thing that made him notice you.

Kirishima nudged him. “She’s cool. I think you’d actually like her.”

Bakugo scowled. “Tch. Since when do you set me up with people?”

“I’m not setting you up,” Kirishima laughed. “But seriously, man. You need to talk to people who aren’t trying to punch you in the face for once.”

Bakugo rolled his eyes. He wasn’t here to meet people. He was here to get Kirishima off his back, and then he was leaving.

But then, as if you could feel him looking, your gaze flicked over to his.

And you smiled.

Not in an over-the-top way. Not in that annoying, flirty, “I’m just here for the fighters” way.

Just a simple, amused smile. Like you knew something he didn’t.

And for some stupid, infuriating reason, that was enough to make him stay a little longer.

You didn’t approach him first.

That was the second thing he noticed about you.

You weren’t like most people who came up to him at these kinds of events—all wide-eyed admiration and empty compliments. You weren’t trying to impress him.

If anything, you were unimpressed.

And that… bothered him.

So when Kirishima finally dragged him over to introduce you, Bakugo was already in a foul mood.

“(Y/N), this is Bakugo,” Kirishima said, grinning. “Bakugo, this is (Y/N). She’s cool, I swear.”

You gave him a once-over, raising an eyebrow before smirking. “Yeah, I know who he is.”

Bakugo narrowed his eyes. “Tch. That so?”

“I’ve been to a couple of your fights.” You shrugged. “You don’t let them last very long, huh?”

He scoffed. “Why the hell would I?”

You tilted your head. “I dunno. Wouldn’t kill you to put on a show for once.”

Kirishima snorted. “Damn. She’s got you there, man.”

Bakugo clicked his tongue, crossing his arms. He wasn’t used to people talking to him like this—like he was just some guy instead of a rising champion.

But you weren’t mocking him.

You weren’t flirting, either.

You were just… talking to him.

And for the first time in a long time, Katsuki Bakugo wasn’t sure how to respond.

This was bad.

This was exactly the kind of distraction he couldn’t afford.

The next day arrived as Bakugo got out of bed, the sunlight streaming through his window, casting a warm glow across his room. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and took a deep breath, steeling himself for the day ahead. As he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, he could still feel the weight of the events from the previous night lingering in his mind, making it hard to focus.

Bakugo didn’t do distractions.

He trained. He fought. He won. That was it.

He didn’t waste time at parties, didn’t fuck around with meaningless shit like relationships or making friends outside of the gym. There was no point. The only thing that mattered was getting stronger.

So why the hell had he stayed at that party longer than he intended?

Why the hell had you stuck in his head?

It pissed him off more than it should have.

It wasn’t like you had done anything special. You weren’t drooling over him like most people who recognized his name. You weren’t trying to get something out of him. You weren’t even acting impressed.

You were just… there.

And for some stupid reason, that was what made him notice you.

Tch. Whatever. It doesn't even matter anymore.

He wasn’t gonna waste time thinking about some random girl.

So, as usual, he threw himself into training.

The gym was empty except for the steady rhythm of his fists pounding the heavy bag. It was late—so late that even Aizawa had already left for the night, trusting Bakugo to lock up when he was done. The only sounds that filled the space were the heavy thuds of leather meeting flesh and the occasional creak of the building settling around him.

His body ached, but it wasn’t enough. The burn in his muscles was a reminder of how hard he was working, yet it only fueled his determination. He needed more. More speed. More power. More control. He needed to push himself past his limits, to go beyond what he was yesterday. Each punch felt like a step toward a higher version of himself, a way to stave off the ever-looming fear of being left behind.

Because if he didn’t—if he slowed down for even a second—someone else would catch up. The thought danced tauntingly in the back of his mind, an insidious whisper that he couldn't shake off. He refused to let that happen; he wouldn't allow anyone to inch ahead of him.

So he fought harder, faster, his focus narrowing like a predatory gaze. The world beyond the gym faded, blurring into insignificance as he lost himself in his routine. He was so absorbed in his relentless pursuit that he barely noticed when someone else walked into the gym. The door creaked softly, almost lost in the noise of his efforts, and he instinctively increased his intensity, a faint flicker of curiosity stirring deep within him. Who would dare interrupt his sanctum?

“Jesus. Do you ever go home?”

His fist stopped mid-swing.

He turned, scowling, only to find you leaning against the doorway.

You weren’t supposed to be here.

“What the hell are you doin’ here?” he snapped.

You shrugged. “Kirishima told me you’d still be here. Thought I’d stop by.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Tch. Don’t you got somewhere better to be?”

“Probably,” you said easily, walking further into the gym. “But this is more interesting.”

That threw him off. Most people didn’t stick around after his fights. Not unless they wanted something.

But you weren’t asking for anything.

And that was what made you dangerous.

He grabbed his water bottle and took a long sip, trying to ignore the way you were watching him.

“You train like you’re running from something,” you said suddenly.

He nearly choked on his water. “The fuck did you just say?”

You leaned against the ring, arms crossed, studying him with an expression that was way too goddamn knowing. “You fight like there’s something chasing you.”

He scoffed. “Tch. You don’t know shit about fighting.”

“I know about people,” you shot back.

His jaw clenched.

Because that was the problem.

You weren’t looking at him like a fighter. You were looking at him like a person. And that threw him off. It wasn’t just the intensity of your gaze; it was the way you seemed to see him—past the tough exterior, into something deeper.

He didn’t know what to do with that.

You didn’t go away after that initial encounter. Somehow, you kept showing up—at the gym, at his fights, infiltrating his thoughts at the most inconvenient times. You’d sit on the sidelines, a calm presence amidst the chaos, watching with that same unreadable expression that both intrigued and frustrated him. You didn’t fawn over him. You didn’t try to flirt or get his attention. You were just… there.

And no matter how much he tried to ignore you, he couldn’t shake the feeling that you were gradually unraveling him.

“Yo, you good, man?” Kirishima asked after a particularly exhausting sparring session, wiping sweat from his brow.

Bakugo scowled, his irritation simmering just below the surface. “The fuck kind of question is that?”

Kirishima smirked, a knowing light in his eyes. “I dunno, dude. You’ve been off lately. Like, you’ve been extra agitated every time (Y/N) is around.”

Bakugo’s fists tightened into balls at his sides, his heart racing. “Shut the hell up.”

Kirishima just laughed, unfazed. “Bro. You’re so obvious.”

There was nothing obvious about it, at least that’s what he kept telling himself. The truth was, every time he caught a glimpse of you cheering for him—your lips curled into that soft smile, your eyes sparkling with pride—he felt something shift inside him. Something he wasn't prepared to confront.

It was maddening how a simple presence could ignite a fire in his chest.

He cursed under his breath, pushing the thought aside. There was nothing to even talk about, nothing to feel. Because whatever this was—whatever you were doing to him—he wasn’t gonna let it get in the way.

He refused to let his heart get tangled in the mess of feelings he didn’t understand. But deep down, a part of him wondered if perhaps being a fighter meant more than just throwing punches. Perhaps it meant fighting for something—or someone—worth it.

So, as always, he did the only thing he knew how to do.

He trained harder.

And harder.

And harder.

Like he could beat the thought of you out of his head.

Like he could make himself stop wanting something he wasn’t supposed to have.

But no matter how hard he tried…You were still there.

And that was the real problem.

After that night, things… shifted.

He stopped avoiding you. Stopped pretending you didn’t exist.

You still weren’t pushing to be in his life, but somehow, you were just there—closer than before.

And maybe… just maybe… he liked that.

A little too much.

Recently, You started showing up at the gym more.

You never interrupted his training, never got in his way, but he could feel you there. Could hear the way you’d tease Kirishima when he dropped a weight. Could hear your voice in between the rounds of his sparring matches.

And you wanna know the worst part about it?

He started looking forward to it.

“You’re getting better,” you said one day, watching him hit the pads with his trainer.

He wiped sweat from his brow, smirking. “Tch. ‘Course I am. I’m not some weak-ass rookie.”

You rolled your eyes. “Never said you were. But you used to just go for the kill every fight. You’re starting to actually think in the ring.”

His smirk faltered.

Because that was true, too.

He fought like a ticking time bomb, each punch a detonation of raw power that sent shockwaves through his opponents. His reputation was built on pure brute force, but recently… everything had shifted.

He was evolving.

Taking a breath.

Learning the game.

Maybe it was because, for the first time, he had someone whose opinion actually mattered to him.

Shit.

This was spiraling out of control.

It wasn’t just in the ring anymore.

You started showing up in his life outside the gym, too. After every match, you’d be there, thrusting a water bottle into his hands before he could even catch his breath.

“You’ve got to hydrate, dumbass” you’d tease, rolling your eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

And hell, he found himself addicted to the way you called him a dumbass with that playful grin.

Then there was that one night when Kirishima dragged him to a late-night diner, and there you were—totally unexpected.

But instead of bailing like he usually would, he took a seat next to you in the booth. He picked at his food, captivated by your animated argument with Kirishima about something ridiculously trivial. When you nudged his arm, asking for his take, he found himself responding.

Because he wanted to.

Because you were a blast.

Because, for just a moment, fighting faded into the background.

That’s when things got really complicated.

The real trouble started the moment he stopped denying it.

When he started craving your presence.

When he caught himself stealing glances at you when you thought he wasn’t looking.

When he realized your laughter was now his favorite melody.

And then the late nights came, when he lay in bed wide awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering what you were up to.

Did you think about him, too?

Oh hell.

He was in deep.

And he had no idea how to navigate this storm brewing inside him.

Bakugo didn’t know what the hell was wrong with him.

Scratch that—he knew.

He just didn’t want to admit it.

For weeks now, he’d been stuck in his own goddamn head, trying—and failing—to pretend that you weren’t the reason his focus was slipping. Every training session, every sparring match, everything just felt… off. It had gotten worse.

Everything about you messed with him.

The way you chewed on your lip when you were thinking, lost in a world that felt miles away. The way your voice softened when you spoke to him, just a little, as if he wasn’t the disaster everybody painted him to be. The way you looked at him—eyes bright and curious—like he was more than just his fists, more than the explosive temper that often burned those around him.

And now? He couldn’t fucking stand it.

Because he wanted you.

Badly.

And it was driving him insane.

“So,” Kirishima said, leaning against the locker room bench, arms crossed with that unnerving spiky smile plastered on his face. “You gonna tell her, or are you just gonna keep making that face forever?”

Bakugo scowled. “What fucking face?”

Kirishima smirked wider, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “The one you’re making right now. The ‘I’m a grumpy volcano that’s about to erupt’ face.”

With an annoyed grunt, Bakugo yanked off his gloves, throwing them into his locker as if they were the source of all his problems. “I ain’t makin’ a face.”

“Dude.” Kirishima exhaled dramatically, rolling his eyes. “You like her. It’s painfully obvious. You get all weird and broody whenever she’s around.”

Bakugo turned his back, trying to hide the heat blooming in his cheeks. “I ain’t broody.”

Kirishima ignored him, shoving his hands into his pockets with a casual confidence that only aggravated Bakugo further. “And she definitely likes you, too.”

That made him freeze.

His fingers tightened around the straps of his gloves, heart hammering in a way he really didn’t fucking like. The thought of you returning his feelings stirred something inside him—a mix of fear and hope that twisted his stomach into knots.

He forced a scoff, trying to mask the turmoil. “Tch. You don’t know that.”

“Bro, she watches your fights like she’s trying to figure you out. No one stares at someone that much unless they’re either obsessed or in love.”

Bakugo clenched his jaw, irritation bubbling up.

Love.

No.

That wasn’t what this was.

It couldn’t be.

Right?

Kirishima leaned forward, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “I’ve seen the way she lights up when you walk in. When she cheers for you, it’s like she’s rooting for a hero.”

He paused, letting his words settle into Bakugo's mind, each one weighing heavier than the last. “You could have something real, man. But if you just keep pretending it’s nothing—”

Bakugo cut him off, spinning around with a fierce glare. “Shut it! I’m not in the mood for your sappy bullshit!”

Kirishima raised his hands in defense. “Hey, I’m just saying what we’re all thinking. You can’t keep running away from this. It’s like you want to explode but you’re holding it back. Just tell her how you feel!”

But the thought of putting himself out there, of opening up, felt like a different kind of explosion—one that terrified him. A battle he wasn't sure he could win.

“What if I…?” His voice trailed off, the whisper fragile, almost foreign to him.

“What if you what?” Kirishima pressed, leaning in closer, eyebrows furrowed in genuine concern.

“What if she thinks I’m a total loser?” Bakugo shot back, the words slipping out before he could catch them.

Kirishima chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Dude, she’s been right by your side through everything. Trust me. She sees you. The real you. Not just the angry guy who blows stuff up.”

And in that moment, all Bakugo could do was stare into his friend's earnest eyes, the wheels turning in his mind. He felt the pressure build within him—not just the pressure of his own chaotic thoughts, but a surge of longing that was hard to ignore.

“What if I try?” he muttered, almost to himself.

Kirishima’s face split into a grin. “Now you’re talking! Just think about it. Taking a leap like this can lead to something incredible. And who knows? You might just find that she’s waiting for you to make a move.”

Bakugo took a deep breath, gripping his locker. The thought of finally breaking free from this never-ending cycle of confusion was both terrifying and exhilarating. But deep down, he knew he couldn't keep pretending anymore.

With every passing moment, the desire to grab you by the shoulders and confess everything grew stronger. He would have to face his fears—head-on, just like he did in every fight.

“Alright,” he growled, determination erupting within him. “I’ll do it.”

As Kirishima gave him a confident nod, Bakugo felt the familiar rush of adrenaline that accompanied every fight—but this time, it was for something much more important than just victory. It was for you. The challenge had been accepted, and he was ready to stop being the broody, angry guy everyone expected him to be.

Bakugo would fight for this, and he wouldn't back down. Not now, not ever.

Kirishima nudged him with his foot. “Dude, just confess already. It’s not like she’s gonna reject you.”

Bakugo exhaled sharply, running a hand through his damp hair.

Confess?

He wasn’t that guy.

He wasn’t soft. He wasn’t romantic. He didn’t have a way with words.

And what if he messed it up?

What if you looked at him differently?

What if—

Kirishima snapped his fingers in front of his face. “Oi. Stop thinking so damn much.”

Bakugo growled. “I ain’t—”

“Yeah, yeah, you ain’t thinking, whatever.” Kirishima rolled his eyes. “Just tell her.”

Bakugo let out a long, frustrated sigh.

Fine.

Fuck it.

If he was gonna do this, he was gonna do it his way.

Finding you wasn’t hard. You were always around the gym, watching his fights, teasing him after sparring sessions, lighting a fire in his chest that he couldn’t quite understand.

And just like always, there you were—sitting on the bench outside the gym, scrolling through your phone, waiting.

Waiting for him.

His stomach tightened at the sight.

He shoved the feeling aside and made his way toward you, stopping just a foot away.

You glanced up, a bright smile breaking across your face. “Oh, hey! Good fight tonight. You didn’t completely destroy the guy in the first round this time. Progress.”

He ignored the jab, shoving his hands into his pockets to hide the slight tremor. “Come with me.”

You blinked, surprised. “Uh. Okay?”

You stood, raising an eyebrow, but didn’t argue when he began to walk away—leading you down the dimly lit street. The hum of the city buzzed around, cars thudding in the distance, the faint flickering of a streetlamp overhead matching the anxiety in his chest.

Finally, he stopped near an empty park, hands still deep in his pockets. The air felt electric, charged with anticipation and the weight of everything he was about to say.

You tilted your head, your curiosity making you even more breathtaking. “So… what’s up?”

He exhaled sharply, staring at the ground like it held the answers to all his questions.

Fuck.

Why was this so hard?

He could beat the hell out of seasoned fighters, could take punches that would knock most guys out, could bleed for his dream—but standing here, he felt utterly paralyzed.

His hands curled into fists with frustration.

Then, finally—

“I like you.”

Silence.

The words hung in the air, heavy and final.

Slowly, you blinked.

“…Wait. What?”

His jaw clenched. “You heard me.”

A small smile tugged at your lips, transforming your face into a canvas of joy. “I think I did. But you might have to say it again.”

His eye twitched. “I swear to god—”

You laughed, the sound like music ringing through the night.

It irritated him and thrilled him all at once, making his heart race faster.

You crossed your arms, a mischievous glint in your eye. “Okay, let’s pretend I didn’t already know that. Why do you like me?”

His stomach flipped, twisting in a whirlwind of nerves.

“Tch. The hell kinda question is that?”

“A very fair one.” You raised an eyebrow, challenging him to explain the impossible. “C’mon, Katsuki. If you’re gonna confess, do it right.”

His face burned hotter than a raging flame.

This is a mistake.

Why the hell am I doing this?

But he was already in too deep.

So, fuck it.

He took a tentative step closer.

Then another.

Until you were right there, just inches away, your teasing expression faltering as you realized the gravity of the moment.

His voice dropped lower, rough yet full of depth. “I like you because you don’t take my shit.”

You inhaled sharply, eyes wide with surprise.

“I like you because you don’t look at me like everyone else does.”

Your breath hitched, and he noticed the way your lips parted slightly.

“I like you because you’re in my goddamn head and I can’t get you out.”

Your gaze flickered down to his mouth, and he saw everything shift in your expression, a mix of surprise and something he dared to hope was desire.

And then—

He kissed you.

Hard.

It was a surge of emotion, raw and unrefined. All teeth, heat, and a desperate need, as if the world around them had vanished and there was only you and him in that moment.

This wasn’t some innocent little crush.

This was him breaking.

Breaking down walls that had stood for too long, walls that had been built to keep everyone—and everything—out. But you had found the cracks, slipped through them before he even realized what was happening, and now—now—he was caving.

Your fingers fisted into his shirt, desperate, pulling him closer like you couldn’t get enough. And fuck, that was all the encouragement he needed.

He growled against your lips, something raw and almost dangerous, his hands gripping your waist in a vice, holding you there, pinning you against him like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to the goddamn earth.

You gasped, and he took advantage of it, deepening the kiss—hungry, reckless, all-consuming. It was messy, all teeth and heat and the undeniable, electric pull between you both.

He wasn’t thinking anymore.

He was just feeling.

You tasted like something dangerous. Something he couldn’t get enough of—like a match striking against gasoline, igniting something deep inside him that had been waiting to burn.

His fingers dug into your hips, pulling you flush against him, and he let out a shaky, almost desperate breath against your mouth.

More.

He needed more.

The feeling of your body against his, the heat of your skin seeping into him, the way your nails raked up his back, sending a sharp shudder through his spine—it was fucking addictive.

He had been starving, and now that he had this, now that he had you, he didn’t know how the hell he was supposed to stop.

Your lips moved in sync, perfectly, like you had been waiting just as long for this—like you had wanted him all this time, too.

And when you moaned softly against him, he damn near lost his mind.

His hand slid up your back, pressing against the curve of your spine, holding you impossibly close, swallowing the sound like it was his—because it was.

You were his.

And the realization hit him harder than any punch he had ever taken.

By the time he pulled back, panting, his forehead pressing against yours, he could feel your breath against his lips—shaky, unsteady, just as wrecked as he was.

You looked up at him, lips swollen, eyes dazed, and fuck, he had never seen anything more perfect.

He smirked, but it was different this time—softer, but no less intense.

“Tch. Told you,” he muttered, his voice rough from the weight of everything he had just let go.

You exhaled, blinking up at him, breathless but grinning, and shit, that smile—that goddamn smile—made something inside him snap all over again.

“Okay. Yeah. That was definitely a confession.”

He huffed a laugh, his chest still heaving. “Damn right it was.”

And when you reached up, tracing your fingers along the sharp edge of his jaw, tilting his face back down to yours, he knew—he fucking knew.

There was no going back from this.

The world could go to hell, the entire damn boxing circuit could collapse, and he wouldn’t care.

In that moment, with the stars shining overhead and the world spinning just for them, Bakugo felt something shift inside. No longer just a fighter or a hot-headed boxer—he was yours.

And he wasn’t letting you go.

Mine, he thought, and he knew he was ready to face whatever came next—together.

And for the first time in his life, he wasn’t afraid of wanting.

© sakuraszn! xoxo

art creds: gsony24

best friend touya finding out you don't watch porn because you've never found anything you liked.

he asks if he can send you links, show you what's out there from a trusted source. you've always low-key had a thing for him, so you agree, even though a part of you knows there's no coming back to normal friendship after this.

the links start out tame, almost sweet. you've seen porn like it before, the basic shit that looks like a couple made a home movie. it’s not that you find it unappealing; you simply feel nothing watching two strangers fuck like they’re in love.

you send a thumbs-down reaction to the messages.

touya texts back: well shit

a flurry of links blow up your phone and you don’t get the strategy until you find one, buried in the middle, that reads: fucking my best friend so hard he cries

with your heart in your throat, you thumbs-up the message.

touya replies immediately.

omw

wait.

buying those little mini pencils and cutting them down so pocket sized izuku can take 'notes' when you guys watch things together.

pocket sized katsuki nearly falling off your desk or table trying to train his quirk, having trouble with adjusting the power because he's smol.

pocket sized shinsou hanging from things-- i imagine he would have like.. a little swing from things, just swaying lazily while you're busy.

pocket sized kirishima who likes to sit and play with the music on your phone while you work out, declaring he knows the best songs to get you pumped up.

pocket sized uraraka who tugs on your sleeve and you tie a little piece of ribbon around her waist so she can activate her quirk and float around like a mini balloon - aka - fly.

pocket sized toya who insists that he is your personal lighter and has to light candles and stuff for you. and got really upset with himself when he accidentally burned your finger.

pocket sized tomura who gets teary eyed after you spent hours stabbing yourself and cursing trying to sew him itty bitty gloves.

giving pocket sized hawks little pieces of fried chicken because he's going to stare at you until you do. or giving him pieces of puffcorn. 'you could just give me nor--' 'no, it's harder to chew. eat your puffcorn.'

pocket sized himiko that's like having a pet lizard and likes to bite your fingers and not let go. she's ends up a giggling mess when you do that hand shake, wiggle thing.

bro. can people stop with the inc3st/r@pe reader x character fan fictions? you guys are genuinely gross. I don't want to know your damn intrusive thoughts 💀 "its so gross irl" then why write it?? are you stupid? if you think its gross then why do you write it down..i have blocked SO MANY people because they add something stupid shit like "dad!jing yuan x daughter reader" and its fuckin r@pe too. kys bro. you're psycho and insane. she ALSO makes those fan fictions to satisfy those same feelings for her blood relative brother. IRL!!! so its NOT just purely fiction either.

did you just open your own door?

Bakugo Katsuki x Reader

You and Katsuki has been dating for 2 months. He might be known and seen as a rough and strong hero, but it shocked you to know how soft and respectful he was ever since you two got together.

Being with Katsuki who treats you like a princess without you asking for it was damn magical. He cooks for you, he buys you your fav snacks when he goes on groceries, Katsuki always makes sure you are always well and comfortable. He always make sure that you receive the best.

That's why the shock and disappointment in his face when you opened the car door for yourself does not need any explanation. As you close the door, you see him with his mouth wide open like you just did something so horribly unbelievable.

Katsuki hurriedly walks to his side of the door and even before sitting in the driver's seat, he goes, "What the hell just happened?"

You look at him smiling. "What?" You ask innocently. He pointed to your door with his left hand. "Oh. Love, I can open my own door, it's okay."

He scuffs at you like you have said something so horrible. "No, it's not okay! It is supposed to be me opening the door for you. I can do it for you."

"I know you can, Kats. But I can also do it myself, you don't always have to do it. It's not a big deal, don't worry about it." You say calmly, as you sense how serious Katsuki was about it.

You have always been independent. It was a long time you have not been with anoyone romantically, so these there are not a big deal for you because you know damn well you can do it yourself. 

Katsuki slowly breathes in as he try to explain himself. He holds your hand with both his hands. "My love, it is a big deal for me. If today I am not opening the door, then what else am I not doing for you?"

You claims both his hand as you brush your thumb onto the top of them. "Katsuki, I understand that. But no one even saw that you didn't do it so don't—"

"I am not doing it for other people to see, love. It's for you. I want to treat you the best way I possibly can, and I want to do it as often as I can because that's what you deserve." He says while looking straight at your eyes in all sincerity as he brings his right hand to cup your cheeks.

You have never known a love like this. So seeing how this man can make you feel the most strongest and the most vulnerable at the same time is all new for you. You lean on his touch. 

"Katsuki..."

Ever since you have been with Katsuki, every second of every day he makes you remember that he is the love you never knew you needed. 

"So, you gonna let me open the door for ya all the time or am I gonna start being a pain your ass?"

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ thank u for reading! :>> . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ༶•┈ by yel0ngkape ┈•༶ i accept requests, so feel free to reach out! ♡

Alone at the edge of the universe humming a tune (for merely dreaming we were snow)

STUFFED.

Synopsis. How many inches until he can see his díck in you from the outside?

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Higuruma x Reader, Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, tummy buIges, cúmflation, cervíx kíssing, d imprints, fitting it, they’re BIG, PÚSSYDRÚNK MEN, matíng presses, dúmbification, p talking, spítting, Choso’s powers, cúmplay, headIlocks, marathons, bréeding, GOJO’S POWERS, creampíes, true form Sukuna, dp, overstím, pet names, swéaring.

A/N. Hope you have a lovely week <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - 9-inch nudge

“T-Toji–” Your loosened lips gloss over with a thin trickle of mindless drool, heart-filled eyes struggling to keep open and take a long look at the sight right below you. “What- what are you doing?”

Well, rendering you completely thoughtless with repeated thrashes of his vulgar inches is what. 

And Toji Fushiguro would have tittered out those words just to see the way your features scrunch in cute irritation. He would have rolled his verdant eyes merely to feel your clingy grip around him tighten needily - but the man was busy right now. 

Barely even straying his half-lidded gaze up at you - instead, he’s planting three smearing taps on your weeping slit. Stretching out his thickly-padded thumb and his index wiiide open to measure-

You’re heaving in murked clouds of breath, heedlessly counting eight- no, nine inches through glassy eyes. “What are you even hah- m-measuring?”

“Tch, y’know.” Pinkish tongue darting out drivel along his jagged scar - that’s all it takes for you to know that you were in for it. “Jus’ how deeply m’gonna make that cute tummy bulge w’me, doll.”

Oh.

Just those simple words were enough for your straining thighs to tremble with yet another sheeny geyser of syrupy slick. Lathering Toji’s bulky base with all sorts of velvety droplets that make him groan, flicking over a calloused thumb to tease your pussy into making an even bigger mess. 

“Oho?” He’s raising one brow, pressing on the perked button of your clit and making your head tumble back with a keen. Thumbing wet little writings of his name on it over n’ over, “Ya liked that, huh? The i-idea of me ngh makin’ a mark from the inside? Filthy giiirl, ‘course ya did.”

“M-me?” And you don’t know just how cockdrunken you are at this point to think that bickering with a sultry, taunting Toji would do any good. But, hey, he always did love a feisty woman. And the way your lower lip wobbles into a pout as you huff and puff makes his swollen cock stretch your muggy walls only wider, “You’re the one hah- m-measuring and- and talking about a bulge-”

“-and m’dead fucking serious.” Toji’s willowy eyes narrow, ravenous gaze hidden away by a curtain of long lashes and inky bangs. But you still feel your heart race at his utter intensity, “Lemme show ya, ma.”

He was serious - he is. 

In less than it takes your dewy pussylips to throb with a depraved ba-dump–! Toji’s clawing down one engulfing hand right onto the perspired crown of your head. Warm skin meeting your tizzy head harshly.

Snarling his sleazy grin up at you with a slight snicker, before flexing his mouth-watering biceps and pushing- “Stretch. F-fucking stretch now-”

“Fuh-fuuuck–” Your eyes leak steady rivulets of tears at the sheerly raw reach, the way he didn’t even have to try to swab milky gumdrops of pre at your innermost orifices. Fucking you open with just the gluey scour of his bawling tip trying urgently to fit inside, “Fuck me- fuck me, Toji–”

“S’what m’ ah- doing, silly girl.” Now, he’s rolling his eyes once your jiggling ass perches on the solidly full curve of his breeder balls and squirms. “So be my good fuckin’ girl and t-take it.”

And it’s all that you can do. 

Bowing your spine into the perfect semi-circle curvature to angle your hips even deeper. Jittery thighs gyrating against Toji’s toned obliques with every striking pap! he skids viciously against your goopy depths. It was maddening, and you’re finding yourself latching precariously onto his voluptuous deltoids to try and regain some semblance of balance - and your sanity.

Flinching slightly once he tilts your hips to let off a particularly harsh grind against that magical spot. You’re whimpering through deliriously crossed-eyes, “There- ah!”

“Yeahhh, fuckin’ knew it-” Comes the husky answer, mean. And then an even meaner set of pounds that batter and bruise your tenderest spots precisely with each minute motion. You feel Toji curl one massive palm on the delicious curve of your waist before leaning you back, back, back- “-can see it.”

See it?

“What-” You’re gasping once you angle your head just enough to sneak a few glimpses below at where Toji was feeding your pretty pussy with his veined girth. In and out. 

Because right then and there - etched exactly onto the middle of your tummy - was a cylindrical bulge. Pushing past your fleshed mounds n’ edges to carve out a deeply scouring indent. Spearheading into you with each soppy plap! of Toji’s glissading body. 

Long. Girthy. 

And you didn’t know if you were just that stupidly cockdrunken but you swear you could even count every single throb of Toji’s furiously hard cock meshing it’s way through your pried insides. 

He’s holding those rudely measuring fingers up once more, ranging from the slobbery ends of your slit all the way up to where you’re feeling his painfully hard shaft plant pretty pecks on your pussy. Eyes widening briefly, “Oh? S’even hngh- bigger than I predicted.”

Sloppy. Painting sloshing streams of precum and nudging you oh-so-full with his scorching length until you were sure you could feel his bloated circumference brand your rubbery cervix. Until you could almost taste his salted caramel with every blissful explosion on your tastebuds.

So much. Too much. “More. Want- need more–”

“Shhhh sh sh, that’s it- Cry your lil’  heart out, ma.” Toji’s humming out gutturally, free hand gliding upwards to smear away your spilling salivation. Nodding along with every sweet noise you make when his split-ended cock thrusts inside your hot core, “Thaaat’s it, that’s a good girl- Look at you all hck! stuffed until you’re about to explode. Cute.”

“Ngh- it- you’re so deep.” You’re mewling out, viscous globs of slick slipping and sliding down Toji’s length until your fattened clit coasts easily across those very same puddles. 

And you could feel him and every ballooned-up vein of his raking around your gummy walls. You could feel the bumpy outline of him bludgeoning past your saturated folds. 

“Yeahhh, s’a biiig fuckin’ s-stretch, isn’t it?” He’s gruffing out with a few playful spanks to your drooling pussylips, as if you weren’t already being fucked dumb. Instantaneously guiding your hand to caress the rollercoaster messing up your insides - reclining right over the contour of where his globular tip plummets into your g-spot with a thunk! 

“Here’s where ya won’t stop ah- drooling.” He twiddles your sensory fingertips to brush against your sensitive folds, showering in a generous heap of your sappy juices. “Like a f-fuckin’ ocean, I swear.”

Before lugging your boneless limb up, up, up- “-and here’s th-that hngh- cute spot ya love so much-” Pressing down over a certain delicate spot near your abdomen. And as if to prove his point, Toji’s quirking one brow and smashing his puffy tip hard in a dewy French kiss with your g-spot. Blissful. “And here- ohhh, here–”

He sounded so gone at this point. Rough. Cracking. You swear you catch a fleeting glimpse of his pearly whites watering with saliva, drooling as he hikes your hand about halfway up your tummy. 

Wedging pressure right above an invisible line on your tummy. Where his stuttering hips were forced into halting, crownhead drenching the awaiting door to your womb with soppy molasses. 

Toji’s mutters sound painfully close to a plea - to a whine. “H-heh, this is where ya better ngh- hope yer on fuckin’ birth control after this, ma.”

“...”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Capital B.D.E.

Effortless. 

It was effortless how every sensual scrape of Nanami’s veined shaft had you seeing stars behind your shuttered eyes. Prying apart your gluey lips with a single daubing swipe of his plump, ruby-red tip; your cute cunt was practically crying all around his hefty girth.

“M-mooore- oh-” Your legs are ever-tightening around his dewy skin, surely slipping n’ sliding haphazardly if it wasn’t for the beefy arm pinning them behind Nanami’s slender hips. “Kento- I want…”

“Shhh. I know I know, my love.” He’s hushing away the pearly tears spilling over from the corners of your crossed eyes, the fat pad of his thumb collecting all the salty droplets and plugging it into your lolling mouth for you to suck. “But a-any more n’ this pretty girl right here’s gonna ngh-”

Break.

Both your needy cunt and your dear husband’s sanity, in fact.

Because saying that Nanami Kento was massive would be the understatement of the century - all long, proud ten inches. Twitching and leaking, sinking in such a sultry tempo past your tight, tight ring of muscle. 

Desperately, your adhesive-like walls cling onto his throbbing length with not one, not two, but three barely-there squeezes. Spraying his scorching hot cock with a gleaming lather of slick, your heart races when you realize that he hasn’t even fully bottomed-out yet.

“I can t-take it, Ken–” You’re insisting with a cutely jutted-out lip that you already know he’s ruined for. His biggest weakness. And that cockdrunk little expression on your face makes him groan, “-give it all t’me, please?”

Nanami can’t say a word.

Can’t do anything but let his pretty amber eyes glaze over with something…feral. Oh, he was going to ruin you.

Tawny strands of his bangs stick to his perspired forehead and disarray into a brief curtain over his deep stare, and you’re catching the way that Nanami’s lower lip quivers.

Wordlessly, he’s smearing two greedy palms underneath your thighs. They were so jittery in his grasp, being manhandled easily over the delicious curvature of Nanami’s broad shoulders. 

“Ken- oh!” Every single ounce of breath lodged in your chest leaves you instantly in a murky gasp when he snaps his huling body in half and bends you down, down, down. Folding you into the most pliable mating press that leaves your under-thighs burning, and your head spinning.

“Deep breaths-” He’s drawing an invisible line over your womb, where he’d measured he’d be thumping soon. Whispering, “Deep breaths, darling. Deep breaths- gotta it like a good girl. Take e-every inch–”

With one sharp smack! he’s bottoming out to hit the split-ended tip of his mushroomy cockhead against your deepest depths. Streaking down a buttery stream of possessive pre that splashes around your sponged cervix. 

And that’s when Nanami’s doughy, latched-on fingerpads shake right on your velvety skin, Herculean body feverishly hot, lowly rasping gruffs leaving him in billowing gusts that fan your face. He was gone. That’s when he mutters, “Oh.”

Then - only then - do you realize that your lovely husband isn’t even looking at you. Heavily lidded eyes locked somewhere down in the hidden-away depths where his washboard abs were glissading against your front with every resounding pap! pap! pap! 

“I…I can see it.” Nanami spits out and it sounds more like a growl. Hoarse. Broken. A warmly engulfing hand caresses your tummy - softly, softly. Before he’s flicking a thick thumb to nudge that lewd cylindrical bump and push- 

Faster. Faster. Eyes never once looking away as if he was hypnotized by now. And he was - honestly, you’re wondering whether Nanami thinks he’s dreaming when he clasps your trembly hand to plant a pretty peck against your wedding ring. “I can- I can see it. Can see m’self inside ya- Fuck- what a slutty girl ya are, my love.”

Nanami Kento never stuttered.

Blinking away the sticky lacquer of tears on your lashes to see that your pussy was bloated - filled to the brim with so many numerous inches of Nanami’s ballooned cock that you’re seeing him swell against your tummy. Your eyes widen at the perfect curvature of his globed head leaving wet smooch after smooch on every hidden nook n’ cranny.

Fuck. 

Nanami was so big that he was making you bulge. 

“D-didn’t even know that could- didn’t even-” In hurried, jerky motions, he’s pushing up his condensely fogged-up glasses even higher. Long lashes fluttering as he takes in the lecherous outline again. And again and again and again- “Shit- shit, darlin’. Hold on, I can’t- fuck s’making me lose…composure.”

It was doing so much more than that.

It’s like something in the ever-stoic Nanami had shattered into a zillion pieces. 

Bustling you higher and higher up the springy mattress with each and every unapologetically battering ram. You swear you hear your joints pop! He’s mazing into your sweetest spots, leaving wet dashes of pre cum topping soppy orifices that you didn’t even know existed. 

Harder. Still pushing down for that bulge of his cock messing up your insides. 

Before you can even blink, he’s locking your bouncing ankles together with a single hand behind his head. Making you ogle at the rawly tight grip printing onto your skin, and the way that Nanami’s big, shimmery biceps flex. 

God- you blame the way he looks so unintentionally sexy for the way your stomach twists with your incoming orgasm. And the way your cockdrunken mouth slops open stupidly to utter, “More. Rougher, Kento.”

Nanami’s glassy eyes snap open- you were going to be the death of him. “R-rougher?”

SLAM!

The bed sings off a few splintered creaks! when Nanami strikes his freely open palm against the mahogany headboard and thrashes his teary, rotund tip against your most favorite g-spot - and so do you.

“Shit- shit shit shit-” You’re shrieking out in a waveringly shrill tone, a glowy trickle of saliva spilling from the loosened sides of your maw once you’re throwing your head back and cumming. And it hits you by surprise almost as it does your pulsing pussy. “-mpfh- c-cumming, Ken—”

Your fingers rover their way to scratch at Nanami’s attractive blond undercut, as he fucks you through every white-hot spark of pleasure. So many. 

And he’s skimming his own back over that sexy bulge, feeling the way the peaks of your bliss only make his cock thud your goopy core harder-

“S-sooo pretty when you’re full n’ dumb on my hah- cock, my love.” He’s husking down at the sinful outline still pumping underneath your tummy, and it takes you a few sloppy seconds to realize that this is your Kento. Your sweet Kento - eyes crazed, lips snarled, blushing tip splitting you open when he only gets bigger. Animalistic. “But you’ll be even prettier n’ fuller as a mama, darling.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Earned it!

“Suguru- b-bulge—”

“Oh? Wha’s that?” Geto’s hot breath wafts right along with his heady cologne when he inches in just a bit closer to your tender ear. Sultry snickers clouding your brain, he dips his thumb gently up and down the base of your cunt. “Can’t hear ya over this talkative pussy, gorgeous. Speak up.”

And you couldn’t even if you wanted to - your loosely-hanging mouth flooded with fresh waves of mindless saliva, Geto’s own thick fingers prying your maw firmly shut. He was having such fun listening to the pretty noises still spilling stupidly from between his digits. 

“Ngh-” You’re blabbering away, hips still bouncing on and on in his favorite reverse cowgirl. “Th-the bul- ah-”

“Th-th-the what?” Geto rolls his amethyst eyes, irises positively filling up with hearts at the way your ass was jiggling haplessly down onto his toned abs. Not that he’d admit it, of course. Each plap! of skin-on-skin making his unfairly attractive leer widen, “Don’t make me say it again. Honestly- s’this needy cunt the only thing you can hah- speak out of?”

And maybe it was the way that he’s leaning even further backwards to watch you - maybe it was the way that he’s letting his slender hips tilt just right to scrape a deep indent down your plush g-spot. 

But it makes you halfway scream, “Bulge! Th-the bulge, Suguru–!”

Bulge? Bulge?

The only answer he’s letting off is one-too-many whopping thrashes of his plummy, mushroom head that ravenously scour open your slick-flooded walls and kiss right at the target of your womb. The runny patterns of his inflated veins scraping your sweetest spots. Again. And again. And again. 

Honestly. He’s grabbing both your arms behind your back to pound into you until your mouth runs over like a fountain. Dark brows raising at the way you’re still drivelling on and on about some b-bulge-

“Did I fuck ya hngh! stupid already or what?” The way his drawling words are seeped with such greedy rasps make your spraying cunt gush even more. With a low tut, he’s manhandling your glissading bodies until you’re facing that floor-length mirror specifically installed in front of your bed. Taking in every inch of that heavenly sight before him, “Now now, what’s got you so-”

And then, for the first time ever in his life, Geto Suguru’s breath hitches. 

Eyes widening, cerise, spit-glossed mouth parting - fuck, if he was any lesser man then he might just have been too dazed to stop from sinking his teeth into his lips and letting off a strained whimper. 

Because right there about halfway down your pretty tummy - inches n’ solid inches about where he was drilling his swollen cock between your leaking slit - there was a bulge. 

A puffy cylindrical outline that glues apart your saturated folds, bumps and grinds with every one of his ragged pounds. Big and true to what you’d been prattling nonsense about - was still prattling about. And Geto swears he could almost see the split-second his rounded, strawberry-pink tip hits your magical spots with a thundering squelch!

“O-oh.” He’s breathing out, sculptured muscles flinching when his entire towering body wracks with a shudder. And it’s as if on autopilot - as if he doesn’t even realize what he’s doing - when Geto traps the column of your neck into a rough headlock from behind. “You really are…filthy, girl. What a cuuute cock bulge.”

You’re practically plastered against Geto’s muscled front now, head lolling drunkenly back against his cushy pecs. Spine bowed the perfect semi-circle, “Can- can feel you so ngh- deep inside, Suguru.”

“W-well–” Geto’s groaning, as heaving and roughened as if he’d forgotten exactly how to speak. And he’s not that mean - rewarding you with a weighty wad of spittle right onto your bumpy tastebuds, “-I can see m’self all deep inside.”

And he could. And seeing it only made his penetrating stare cloud with even more absolute arousal. 

Fuck- Geto couldn’t believe his eyes. He couldn’t look away. Oh, the things he could do…

Couldn’t do anything but outspread the curved rests of his kneecaps even wider across those damp, silken sheets. Angling his hips to hit the gooey bottom of your cunt with a few scorching hot spatters of pre, bloated balls hitting the dripping edge of your pussy with such cutely noisy thwacks!

You can feel the gentle mountains of his palm splay out over that particularly cylindrical outline, pressing down until you thought you were about to burst. 

Bottomed-out - but now it’s like Geto was crazed. Pushing and pushing even when his bulky base hits your puffed-up lips in an innocent peck. Cobwebbed walls molding around his heated cock furiously-

“Now that you can h-heh- see…” Geto sighs out the words in a deep reverie, and yet the only thing deeper was the way that he’s rummaging your insides. Each stroke accompanied by a lazy drag of his veined shaft round n’ round your pussy. “How’d you want me to fuck you- like this?”

With a wet spank right on the dewiest spot of your cunt, he’s straightening his spine before you can string together an answer. 

And you’re fully at his mercy. Held up with one big, beefy forearm curled around your throat to manhandle your vision back, “Or like this- ohh look, gorgeous, m’reachin’ even deeper now. Your bulge got even bigger- Orr–”

Your vision tinges briefly with black when Geto pulls out with a swift fwop! Making the disappointed whine barely formulate on your lips before he flips you over onto your back and buries himself until you feel like you’re split-apart-

“-or this?” You’re hearing from somewhere above you, and if you were any less mindlessly fucked then maybe you’d have realized the mean mating press that he’d folded you into. Dredging a palm ‘round that bloated bulge of his cock still there, “Because we have alllll night to figure out which position takes me the- hngh- deepest.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - #EMO BOY

Choso looked so pretty like this - eyeliner smudging with every beaded tear slipping from his half-lidded eyes, his silvery split-slicked lips hanging open, dazed gaze never straying from your gorgeous face. 

Well, your gorgeous face and the sight of those knotted masses of creamy white gushing like a fountain from between your thighs. Making Choso’s red-tipped cock slip n’ slide with every splash of ribbony cum leaking from your cunt. 

Such a mess. But he’s gotta make more space, right?

“P-pretty giiiirl.” He’s giggling - giggling - at the curvaceous bulge outlining on your tummy. A delicate trickle of saliva sneaking its way down from the ends of his curled smirk at the bump, “P-prettiest girl in the entire world, baby. Got the prettiest lil’ pussy, too–”

He always got so greedy whenever he stole a sneaky look at where your tummy was filled to the brim with all of him. Where he could stare at himself.

Depraved. 

You’re fluttering your lashes, never getting used to the way your sweet boyfriend could fuck you into the soft mattress until you felt shy. And the way he pumps out a few throbbing inches of his lustrous cock to leave three smack! smack! smacks! on your bawling pussy makes you whine. “Such a sweet-talker- ngh, Cho.”

Oh, but Choso Kamo wasn’t just sweet-talking you. He was dead serious. 

Plumpened lips wobbling at the way you would even suggest such a thing, your breath hitches when Choso dexterously curls numerous slender digits around his hefty hilt to drag his fat cock up n’ down your clingy lips. Up and down up and down-

Right with the perfect aim to kiss the hooded tip of your pulsing clit with repeated smooches of his icy Prince Albert’s piercing. Only making you gush even more torrentials. Choso was filthy.

“M’s-serious—” He’s panting out a few heady whimpers, chest rumbling with a low ngh! after every stinging smack. It was driving the both of you completely mad. “Prettiest girl e-ever with my ngh- cock makin’ a mess of you a-and–” Your heart races at just how much he was babbling right now, cheeks burning brightly blossoming red. “-and that tummy bulge. Fuck- fuck jus’ looking at ya is gonna make me cum.”

“Ah- Choso–” You’re squealing once he pumps you viciously full again, tight curvature of his thoroughly full ballsack hitting your cunt with a sharp spank! 

And that wasn’t all - oh, Choso was addicted to you- you really think that would be enough? 

No, in the matter of mere nanoseconds, he’s rolling your gyrating bodies over until you’re straddling his slenderly toned hips. Thighs digging onto either side of his smooth mounds of flesh when Choso latches a needy hand onto your waist and pulls-

“Shit- shit.” He feels himself getting oh-so-dizzy, chestnut locks splaying out like a halo all over the comfy pillowcase. Through long, dark lashes he’s gazing up at you with such sticky adoration, syllables lilting octaves upon octaves higher and choking. “Ride me. P-please ride me s-so I can take my time ngh- admirin’ you.”

You’re riding him and Choso doesn’t think he ever wants you to stop.

The stretch is so massively wide that it takes you a few seconds to finally catch your breath, eager hips slipping n’ stumbling with the help of gravity to swallow up every long and girthy inch he could give. It was such a wonder he could even manage the words out - what with the way your gushing walls were milking him till Choso felt his heart stutter. “Mmm– so inflated w-with my cum n’ that big fucking cock, right? Right?”

Mewling, “Y-yess–”

Rock-hard length heating up a few degrees more sweltering, he swears he can pinpoint the exact millisecond he spots that outlined protrusion and twitches. Letting off the barest whimper, “F-fuuuck I-I can still see it-”

“Mhm–?” You’re humming out, fussing on your lower lip like a gummy to keep the breaking tremor from entering your voice already. You already knew how it drove him wild when you graze a few fingertips over the knobbly end of his mushroomed tip probing at your tummy. “You mean- this? C-can’t help that you’re so- ngh- big, baby.”

“No- no no no- fuck!” He’s gurgling out wetly, stubbly silver of his piercing scratching such a deeply parched itch at your geysering g-spot. “Don’t…don’t touch ah- it like that, baby– s’gonna make me…cum.”

And he wants to swat your hands away - he wants to. But the only thing that he can manage to do is cover your fingers with his much-longer ones, practically drowning in his needy touch when he pins your hands to that contoured bump and presses down.

Lacing his fingers with your own, Choso can’t believe that that was what had his ears ringing with a carmine-tinted blush. 

The forecast was wet - and Choso was sure to keep it that way. Hooking one doughy pad of his digits to bully your bloated folds open and let trickling rivulets of cum weep out. They puddle out in buttery splotches on his flexing abs, rippling with every meeting drive up to meet your perfect tempo. 

Glazing and flowing off the sides of his body and into the drenched mattress, “And- and I dunno if anymore will hck! fit inside your cute cunt if I cum again.”

He sounded so adorably genuinely worried, button nose crinkling at the way a few more globs of seed hit his drenched tufts of dark brown with every stripe of his piercing drawn on your inne spots. But Choso still couldn’t take his eyes away from you - couldn’t take his eyes away from where he could see himself-

“S’alright, Cho–” Your hips jerk in sensual motions, still never faltering after each plap! Never slowing down even when Choso hoists his cottony head closer to make you grace his lolling tongue with a nice stream of saliva, “Give it a-all. Give it all t’me.” 

“Th-then take it-” He’s snarling, and your body breaks out in a severe bout of goosebumps as the air stiffens and the lined tattoo on Choso’s face elongates. “Milk me- hngh- m-milk me, pretty baby, ‘ntil you’re s-so full you can’t think…”

When he cums it’s with his digits pressing powerful pressure down onto yours, groping and adoring where he was spurting out wiry ribbons of sloshing seed. That bulge. Adding to the mess of your sloppy pussylips painting little rings around his thickened base.

Once more. Twice more. Until you were a dripping wet mess. Fuck- at this point he’s registering the crackling work of his own cursed technique running into overdrive. Blood manipulation only making his aching cock harder and harder-

“Fuck- I love you.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - “Just the tip.”

“Or, well…” It was almost infuriating just how much Sukuna didn’t even have to try to make your needy pussy even needier. Merely wafting off a sleazy smirk, “-tips.”

“B-both?” Your arms weakly dangle onto his luxurious royal throne, lips pouting just the way it did when you got extra extra needy for him. And, damn, was that true tonight.

A hallowing spank right on the fleshy nub of your clit, “Yeah- fuckin’ both. Gonna stretch this pretty lil’ hngh- pussy out ‘till she’s stupid.”

You’re practically draped over his solid, sculptured body - eager hands palming at his rippling abs, head buried into the cushy valley between his pecs. His musky scent takes over your senses and makes your cunt twitch.

Every blabber spilling from your maw only lets the king know just how much more cockdrunk you’re getting with each passing second. Toying a few elongated nails over your hardened nipples as you’re heaving out an adorable, “Kuna- don’t know if s’gonna ah! fit- Gonna be ‘nough-”

He seethes, “Not gonna fit?”

And all you can manage to do is shake your head stupidly, shivers sliding down your spine at the feral intensity of his deep stare upon you. “N-no?”

“Tch-” Sukuna’s drawling in a primally smug tone of voice, and something about it already had your perked ass shivering downwards in repeated sensual grinds. Rolling his devilishly crimson irises with such sass, they’re matching the exact tempo he swirls his second, stacked divot around and around your tight entrance, “-my deepest apologies s’not ‘nough’, spoiled brat, but when I say m’gonna make it fit-” 

Oh.

With a sappy pop! he’s feeding you the fatly rounded curve of one more cock - neverendingly big, it felt like. And you couldn’t get enough. No matter how much it felt like he was ruining you from the inside out. 

“-I fucking mean it.”

Topping his mushroomed crowns with a quick lather of your flooding slick, he wastes absolutely no time bouncing two powerful knees to jerk your hips in a sloppy cadence. So hot and needy around him that Sukuna can’t help but slip his twin hard cocks just a bit past the tip-

“See?” Sukuna jerks his head to rest on top of one palm, tilting away mere degrees that would let him admire all of you. Well- not that he’d tell his puny human so. “Taking it like s-such a ngh- good girl– take a few more inches like I know that filthy cunt wants to. She’s like a damn waterpark.”

“More?” Your cries are shrill, pure anticipation and need cracking your words when two big, beefy arms latch around the fleshy mounds of your ass to push. “Shit- shit, s-so biiiig- Kuna-”

“Stop talking outta ya pussy, silly girl-” He’s gritting his teeth at the clingy resistance, lavish second tongue open with want to plant a few pretty pecks on your plump clit. Letting your knees weaken, “S’only gonna make me bigger. Good luck.”

And he wasn’t lying.

Oh, no. Your leaden lids snap open once you’re feeling the probing throb of his ballooned-up shafts pry your gluey falls further and future open like his own personal puzzle, only getting hotter. Harder. Bludgeoning through your gluey walls and leaving cratering indents of his proud circumferences on your pulpy g-spot. 

You’re arching your spine into such a delicious curvature when your thunderous orgasm looms ever-closer. Trekking your palms onto his toned deltoids with a yelp-

“Oioi- where’d ya think you’re hah- runnin’ off to?” Gifting a thorough spank on the side of your plapping ass, and a hand clawing the crown of your head to push you down. Unable to escape. Sukuna couldn’t believe the way that only made you more drenched. Practically sobbing all over his lap, dirty girl. “Yeah. Yeah. Big fuckin’ cocks, heh- aren’t they, ma?”

With the barest head tilt, he can already spot a few inches more to go until he was really sunken into your warm depths. Careening up a hand to measure with two fat fingers - one steady at the base of your teary silt, the other stretching wider and wider - just to show off how far he’d be rummaging inside you-

Only to find out that- oh. He doesn’t need to measure with his fingers after all. 

Because sitting all prettily right then and there was such a lecherous bulge. 

A proud inflation about halfway down your tummy where he was padding on a sultry outline of his bulging cocks. Stretching out your stinging pussy flaps, where he was disappearing in sappy thrusts, way past that- So big that he could count every fat thud into the syrupy orifices of your cunt from the outside.

“C-curses.” Sukuna whimpers - whimpers. 

And the utter shock of it is so great that you find your dazed gaze tumbling downwards to where he was staring intently. Toes curling at the heavenly sight of him - making an indented bulge from all the way inside. “Fuck- Kuna…more.”

“M-more?” He’s whispering, narrowed eyes widening just a fraction at your words. And he’s looking and looking at you as if he can’t look away. Crazed. Depraved. “More? When ya complained about th-that?”

Of-fucking-course, Sukuna’s gonna fucking give you more.

And he’s gonna make you cum while he’s at it, too. Needing only a singular, vulgar stroke to stuff himself snugly between your glutinous walls until you swear you could feel his stacked shafts smooching your lungs. Finally bottoming out.

The stretch so tight - so maddening - and that bumped bulge at your tummy so much worse. 

You simply can’t help but collapse your shivering body down into his ready embrace, sinking the fringes of your teeth into your bottom lip when you throw your head back and reach your high. Finally. 

Making such a filthy mess. Torrenting out a fountain of sheen that glimmers Sukuna’s muscled body until he was glistening in the dimmed lighting of the throne room. Until it pools at your knees and all over the luxurious cushion. 

God- you think you’re seeing fractals explode all being your drunkenly shuttered lids. Bursting to and fro with every swipe of his leftly curved cockhead raking translucent streaks of precum along your cervix. 

Every swashing smack of the gummy end of his tongue stretching past your pursed pussylips and lapping ounces upon ounces of your webbed juices. Your- fuck, it finally hits you, did you squirt?

With an abashed huff, you’re blinking your eyes just a crack open - but Sukuna didn’t complain. Quite the opposite, in fact. “Wanna find out if y’can heh- ride my tongue, too, brat.”

♡ INO TAKUMA - Bottoms out- up?!

“W-woah.”

And it wasn’t like any other of Ino’s usual moans - no. Right now, he sounded as if he was reverent. Lilting baritone straining away into nothing but a whisper, nothing but a prayer. 

You could barely even hear it over the saturated squelch! of his hips finally bottoming out. Reeling back mere centimeters to bully back through your folds with a gluey snog. Decorating your sobbing entrance with a few wadded jets of precum once. Twice. “Woah—”

You’re cracking your weightily-lidded gaze open, boring up at Ino’s crinkled sepia brows with a coo. Tugging through the stray flecks of chestnut strands plastered to his perspired forehead, “Something wrong, Taku?”

And he can only shake his head. Furiously. 

Words still a ball of lead in his throat - even more so when you’re staring deeply into his heart-shaped irises like that.

“I-I just-” Various strings of glistering drool detach when he throws his head back and lets off a husky groan. Eyes crinkling with something that looks like oh-so-feral pain, he’s resting his weight onto yours. Collapsing. Head tucking between your jiggling tits, “-just that- mommy- fuck! Pretty, m’makin’ you h-have a…” 

Shit, he couldn’t even bring himself to say it.

Couldn’t bring himself to do anything other than latch his eyes down towards where he could see that…bulge once more. Fuck, Ino was going to cum just from the sight of it.

“What do you…oh.” Oh, was right - was just about the only syllable accumulating on your lolling pinkish tongue. Right along with a freshly slicking wave of saliva at the way that Ino’s fattened cock was making your tummy bulge - a thick, cylindrical knot bumping up n’ down every time he was battering you with repeated rams. “Y-you’re so pretty, Taku.”

The blush that dusts his handsome cheeks is adorable, and you can feel him pump your cushy walls full with copious parching webs of needy pre. It’s like he was bawling inside of you. “Is…is this really me?”

Speaking to himself more than you at this point.

And it’s as if Ino’s in a trance - fully drunken on your pussy. Those mahogany eyes of his glaze over with a thick film of arousal, movements slow and sensual as he cranes inches down to give the sweltering skin near your extra-bumped tummy a lingering peck.

“H-hellooo, sweetness.” Murked pants tumbling out one after the other, and breezing over your papping mounds of flesh heatedly. After each and every pound. “-s’this me? Am- am I the one giving you this cute ngh- belly bulge? Tell me- tell me, please-”

So impatient, so wild for you that he can’t even wait until you’re gathering all your leftover breaths to formulate a coherent sentence. 

He’s rovering over one hand to tap at the buttony nub of your plumped clit, rolling in syrupy hearts that drive you breathless. “M’beggin’, pretty. T-tell me how Taku here’s making you feel with his ngh- cock, hm?”

“Love it- love it- ngh!” You’re hiccuping through thickly viscous bouts of tears that warm your skin. Lapped up eagerly by a loving Ino, watching you with wide stricken eyes. “Love how you’re in so deep s’makin’ me haaaah- have a tummy b-bulge.”

Ah, music to Ino’s ears. 

You’re pinned to the springing bedcoils by all of his lean muscle, meaty thighs shifting over yours to jostle your wrangle thighs even wider. Washboard as maddaging your front, fuck- he can’t stop himself from pressing his weight down even harder to feel the bludgeoning back and forth of his long shaft. 

“Can- can feel myself in there so deeeep–” Words shaky and tinging on a whine, you’ve never ever seen Ino this flustered. This sloppy with every shovelling inch - he’s barely even pulling out, just pressing rapid, tight pushes of his rounded ruby tip against your elastic cervix. Like he couldn’t even bear thrusting back. “-so h-heh…big. M’gonna ruin this cute cunt, sweetness. She’s never gonna forget me.”

Oh, and when Ino promises you something then it’s as good as done.

Because right now you can feel your sanity cracking bit-by-bit, a slow treacling spring of spittle making its way from your helplessly flapping mouth. Even more so when he unabashedly nuzzles closer to your mouth and spits.

You pant, “Fuck- fucking me s-so good. Keep going, baby, keep going–”

He was always so weak to the way you’d call him baby in that sweetly honeyed voice of yours. “S-say that again n’ m’gonna…”

A hand of yours glides down to give his tensed abs a smooth caress, and he flinches at the rays of bliss that bolt like lightning down his curved spine. Melding into pure euphoria when you drag one of his splayed-out hands to rest on your body - more specifically the bloated bump he was fucking into you. “Mhm– better not miss, Taku. Want it to make an even ah- bigger bulge.”

“Oh.” Heart beat stuttering to the very same ba-dump as his aching pink tip was, sobbing out in wet spatters that stream from the very geyser in the middle. He’s in love. “C-can we…hold hngh! hands when I cum, pretty?”

♡ GOJO SATORU - X-RAY.

“-extrasensory p-perception by my Six Eyes that shows all that cursed energy n’ beyond anything anyone else could see, so, I can see that-” Gojo’s cutting his own pussydrunken babbling off with a lazy scrape of his ruddied cockhead down your buttery-sheened walls. “-I’ll show up riiiight here.”

Oh, and true to the strongest’s words you’re blinking through your nth orgasm of the night to glimpse at the bloated tip of his furious cockhead, caving a lecherous indent right then n’ there on your tummy. A bulge.

And you swear that Gojo has never looked more smug, “Mhm— there. Fuck- right there. Don’t even need this cute lil’ ngh- belly bulge ta know m’fucking you proper, sweetheart. But I wanna show off for my pretty girl, heh.”

He’s insatiable. 

Rubbing the thickened pad of his thumb over that pre-topped mushroom crownhead of his. Leaving repeated sappy kisses down your targeted magical spots - every single one that he doesn’t even have to try to swab a sultry circle down. 

“S-such a freak, Toru—” You’re finding yourself whining - so much more breathless than you’d have liked but what can you do when he’s pinning you to the bouncy mattress with battering rams. Your poor pussy practically leaking,  “-y-you probably know when m’gonna cum, too.”

And, you were prattling off any snappy syllable you could string together. Really. You weren’t serious. 

But when Gojo arches one immaculately cloudy brow, skidding a sticky thud thud thud of his ballooned strawberry divot right into your sweetest spot, you already know you’re fucked. 

Shit.

Completely and utterly soon-to-be ruined when he’s wrenching out a streaming spray of sappy slick from right between your thighs. Rendering your orgasm building up desperately with only numerous indecent strokes, “Oh, you thought that was a haaah- joke?”

It’s all you can do to blubber through, knees weakening with disbelief. “I-I…”

“The st-strongest fucked you hngh! stupid already, huh?” Lapis lazuli irises rolling- fuck, he had to hide the way your gummy walls made his eyes slide to the back of his lids some what or the other. Slender fingers buzzing with a tinge of cursed energy when he swipes over your clit and taps. “Already know this turns ya on, filthy girl.”

You’re squirming helplessly on the bed, your gooey thighs cracking further and further open with every cute lil’ heart he’s painting on that pulpy nub. “Th-that’s just cheating…”

But Gojo Satoru wasn’t done.

“And I knooooow—” God, if he didn’t have his meaty thighs pressed up against yours - reeling back n’ forth to pump your velvety walls all full of his veined, girthy inches - then you swear he would’ve been kicking his feet. Sing-song baritone cracking with a crazed giggle, “-oh, sweetheart, you h-have no idea what I know.”

Did you even want to know at this point?

Roughened groans only growing more ragged, sloppy strikes prying open your glutinous walls even wider. Until your bawling folds were puffy and raw with every peaking massage of his inflated veins. 

Until he’s letting off two straight thwacks! of his mountained fingertips right where he’s tunneling past your sappy entrance and molding out an addictive tummy bulge. 

“I know you’re oh-so-close right now- ngh-” He’s drawling, inching over to nip his teeth dangerously down the urgent throb of your pulse. Huffing and puffing breath as hot as his flushed body was right now. Rumbling purrs tremoring down your curved spine, “That it makes this cute ah! cunt f-fucking horny when I doooo– this.”

Making you gasp with a bulky bash of Gojo’s rounded tip against your g-spot, probing a little crater deeply into your sponged depths. Before silking out a stringy bout of pre and dragging a loooong line up to your cervix. 

Again. And again. And again and again-

“N’ right here-” Daubing over his favorite outlined bulge, “S’where m’ruinin’ this tight pussy with a hck! biiig stretch- and here-” From the hazy hinges of your eyes you’re catching his own adorn with stray bolts of lighting. With stray strands of insanity. Leering grin growing ever-wider and wider, he draws an invisible line over where his rock-hard cock was hammering the very door to your womb. “-s’gonna be where I make- make you my c-cumdump. Hehhhh, yeah- can see it a-already.”

Your hips jerk off of the cottony sheets, now puddled with your geysering slick and sweat. Perching your legs even higher upon his naked waist, your heels dig into his sculpted obliques had enough to bruise. 

“Want it–” You’re letting your head loll stupidly, pathetic whines the only thing that can drip intelligently from your tongue at this moment. “-want it so bad! Ah!”

Gojo snickers something mean, tiny dimples denting his smirk. “Already know that, sweetheart.”

Sloppier. Faster. And by the trembling little crack in his deep octaves, by that unintentionally sexy look on his face he only gets in battles, you’re wondering which one of you is the most gone right now. 

He rovers a palm over to cup your perked clit, “Already know that ngh- Can see that this s’gonna make your hngh- cunt swell even cuter and this-” Freshly lacquered tips of his digits twirling ‘round and ‘round that swollen hood, you’re counting one crash - two - three - six right into your tenderized g-spot. Before he’s pinching- “-this is gonna make you cum.”

And when has the strongest ever been wrong?

Before you know it, you’re sugarcoating Gojo’s entire length with flooding torrents of slick. Eyes flashing hot white and red before your head throws back with a shrilling moan of Satoru–

Trembling legs being plastered and glissaded ever-tighter against his rippling muscles. Spurting jets of your bliss crashing into you headfirst. Maybe you’re squirting, maybe you’re not - you can’t even see because fuck- when did the lightbulbs shatter?

The thought barely articulates in your mind before Gojo snatches you out of your fuzzy reverie by drilling his index hard against his silhouetted jackhammers. 

Manicured fingernail drawing a languid line up, up, up-

“Right here-” He’s putting a mere fraction of his strength into pressing down a circumference of pressure right where Gojo’s vicious cock was fucking you through your high. Right where he was ending off each thrust with a resounding thud! against your cervix - your womb -  that leaves your mind blank. His favorite girl. His favorite place. He’s all but giggling “-here- s’where my favorite domain ta expand is, sweetheart.”

“...”

♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - Stuffin’ 3

“Awww, angel, don’t tell me you’re heh- tapping out already?” Higuruma leaves off numerous sharp spanks against the plapping mounds of your thighs. The meaty plane of his greedy palms covering little massages, “After I just fucked this ngh- cute lil’ tummy bulge into ya.”

Higuruma thinks you’ve never looked prettier - well, his dear wife is always beautiful. 

But something about the way you’re huffing and puffing at him, splayed out all on his lux office chair, grappling your nails to rake expensively all over his leather cushion. 

But he didn’t give a shit. Not when he had you exactly where he wanted like this.

Thighs straining with tired ache, spine curved oh-so-sweetly into his ready touch, your sopping cunt bouncing to taste each n’ every inch of his reddened cock. Oh, this was heaven. Fucking his currently-annoyed lil’ wife until you couldn’t even remember your own name.

And he’s finding himself looking over a busy document he’s sure is important, cocoa eyes dusking over with a lecherous twinkle. 

“Mmm– still mad at me, sugar?” He’s drawling with that rasped tone that makes your adhesive-like wall clench, fat pearls of your sticky slick escaping from the sides of your sappy slit and puddling into a glossy ring around his hefty base. You’re gasping when he rubs his ice-cold wedding ring against your dripping lips, “Y’know m’sorry I ngh- took overtime on our date night. But m’here- hah- haaaah–”

You’re squirming at just how adoringly he leaves with a few thorough smears of his fat thumb down the teary line of your cunt. Wetting a viscous layer of slick that dribbles all the way down to his flexible wrist, he draws a translucent line of gloss up, up, up till he’s smudging the rotund bump leaving heavy-duty nudges against your weeping walls. “-heh riiiight here. N’ m’gonna make it ah- up to you. Promise.”

Your brows furrow so adorably- fuck, it makes him dewdrop a few gummy puddles of scorched pre. “Hmpf–”

Bouncing his muscular thighs - clothed thighs, still in his smart office slacks - so that you’re forced to jerk along with his rugged tempo. Higuruma always fucked so filthy. 

Hot, vicious pounds. A few doughy tips of his thick fingers stroking the thumping ends of that tummy bulge he loved so very much. Nuzzling at just the right angle for his silver suit cuffs to nudge your fleshy clit. 

It didn’t help to even sink the edges of your teeth into your unsteady lower lip. Because solely a long, harsh drag down your soppy g-spot - that your husband knew too well - makes you whine, “Fuck- ngh- there, Hiro–”

Up and down until your slobbery hole was latering a candied layer of sweet, sweet juices all the way from his leaking strawberry divot till that neat black happy trail. Grinding your plump clit along his flexed abs, “There there- let it out, let it alllll out for your Hiromi here.”

Shit- he’s wondering in the melty depths of his brain whether you even realized you were bustling yourself to milk his furious cock that way.

Spraying out an overspilling squirt of slick with every slam! you’re planting down on his lap. Mazing apart your muggy walls to pry into every hidden orifice you could find - even ones that you didn’t even know existed until Higuruma’s swollen girth probes a few lightning-bolted veins into those exact bullseyes. 

“Sh-shit- hah!” You can’t stop your traitorous tongue from echoing out, leaning in to gulp in flavored breaths of Higuruma’s heady cologne. “M’s-still a-angry at–”

“Mhmm–?” Oh, he knew what he was doing. Hiding away the devious edges of his sleazy smirk with that document, you were just so adorable when you’re teased like this. Fluttery eyes narrowing once he keeps pretending to read, “Oh? What was hngh- that, angel?”

Fucking you stupid. 

You couldn’t feel anything other than the purely cottony bliss that came with his splotchy circle being drawn on top of your battered and bruised womb. The sugary taste of your high building up and up and up- “Th-that m’still- oh, Hiromi- feels so good-”

“Exactly what I thought, sugar.” He chuckles out something dark, curdling at the raspy back of his throat. Tilting back in his chair ever-so-slightly to let you lean your weight into his toned front. Teasing his paper in front of you, “Now now– let me get back to my hah-”

Shit- Higuruma Hiromi’s searing eyes widen, he catches his sexy bass wavering, cut off for the first time in thirty-something years when you’re bringing up a hand to your bloated tummy bulge and pushing-

“O-oh.” He’s scrambling with a few webbed wads of saliva to coat his parched throat, struggling to keep the pure whimpering awe away from his words. “Angel- angel, what are you- oh.”

But your sultry smirk only gets wider, your gyrating motions only sloppier. Thumbing over where you’re sure you’d mapped out the sneaking ridge of Higuruma’s sensitive slit, “What was that, dear husband?”

Ah, he can feel the pearly beads of sweat spattering along his forehead now. A slow trickle of thin drivel springing from the wobbly corner of one mouth, hips perching off of the dampened seat in a one-two-three staccato. “Angel…angel- m’s-sorry I teased- ngh!”

Two could play that game - and Higuruma was completely n’ utterly failing right now.

Such a pretty loser with his uncharacteristically-dishevelled locks, steadily flushing cheekbones, staring right into your eyes with every pound of his mushroomy tip leaking against your innermost depths. Hot. Sopping. Shivering after every clench you were mercilessly bestowing on his puffy shaft.

“My wife-”

“Hmmm?”

“Fine- fine-” Higuruma grits out, jaw clenched so tightly that you were half-wondering in a cockdrunken little haze whether he couldn’t taste iron already. Plush pecs rollercoastering in repeated heaves after every buck, “G’na fill you u-up, sugar.” Palming his own set of fingers over yours, over that rummaging cylindrical outline. “Make you even fuller- would ya like that? Would that make you happy, hm?”

His vigor so dizzying and addictive that it takes you every ounce of will in your boneless body to nod your unbalanced head, “Yes- yes. D-don’t miss inside, Hiromi–!”

“Well then…” And you swear you catch the barest curl of such a saccharine sweet smirk on his kiss-bitten lips. “-get ready. Here it comes, angel.”

And no warning in the world could have ever prepared you for the steadily gushing waterfall of buttery seed that invades your insides. Gooey patches of cum drip down to his formal pants, helping you slip and slide down his reddening shaft to milk out every single creamy ounce possible. 

So sweltering hot. So much of it - it’s as if he’s never cum this hard in his entire life. 

Higuruma can feel himself shaking, sensory tips of his fingers digging and budging that bloated outline being fucked deeper n’ deeper into you. Fat balls clenching once your velvety walls clamp down clingily and you cum-

“Tha’s it, thaaat’s it–” He’s droning through wet chuckles. Thumbing over to feel for the splats! of fountaining cum that slosh about your every nook. Overtaking you. His pretty wife. Flooding your mushy tastebuds when he plugs your whining maw shut with those very same lustrous digits, “Soon yer gonna be even more stuffed, mama.”

A/N. Anatomy? What anatomy?

Plagiarism not authorized.

weird girl !!

♡ : i. midoriya, k. bakugo, s. todoroki, e. kirishima, d. kaminari

☆ : gn!reader, fem-implied!reader in denki’s, fluff, crack, kinda suggestive jokes

✄ : inspired by these rafe fics

- in which you’re the mha boys weird gf !

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ teddy’s notes: hey guys!! back to bakugou x loser gf headcanons bc i need loveeeee and fluff and you guys need it too!! also not proofread sorry!!

bakugou, who absolutely adores you being yourself. gushing about a topic that interests you, whining over a dress you like, showing off your stupidly colourful nails that only look good on you, clinging onto him when he acts all annoyed and nonchalant — he thinks to himself “what a silly girl and wtf did she find in me” because you’re just so different from him and he is so different from you. but at the end of the day, katsuki finds that the love he has for you is mutual and that’s a common ground for both of you.

bakugou, who acts like he hates it when you pamper him, but you know better than that. you know that he absolutely loves it when you scratch his head with your nails despite how much he complains about you ruining it; he would never allow you to do that somewhere other than your share home, slapping your hand away with a glare, however, it’s hard to resist once he is comfortable. he’d dodge your hand at first, but you’re insistent, holding his head close as you sneak your hand into his hair and his complaints and curses die down instantly.

bakugou, who doesn’t like it when others see him being soft for you. it’s not about you, really, his personal relationship are important to him and the comments piss him off; dunce face getting all smug and shutting up once he’s told that “he is bitchless”, kirishima trying to praise him for opening up which earns him a couple of threatening explosions. mina is sneakier though, she tries to get information out of you, which is a lost cause because you only smile sheepishly and point behind her shoulder where bakugou is standing, a death glare directed towards pinky. you can only watch as he lunges after her, giggling at the sight of her horror and his rage.

bakugou, whose way of showing affection is a little different from what you’d expect a boyfriend to do. it shows in the way he notices your hair sticking out and his hands automatically fly up to fix it; calloused hands stroking down your hair, tucking it behind your ears or even gathering it all into something more neat so it doesn’t bother you, or him. if there’s a thread sticking out of the seams of your clothing and he notices there’s a micro-explosion going off from his finger where he burns it off and then scowls at your bewildered face. if you ever feel down he will do the small mistake of offering a solution as soon as you get out what’s on your mind, but then, he will understand that what you need is comfort and provide it the best he can because you’re his best girl.

bakugou, who kisses you unexpectedly because you turn into a jelly right in his arms. your smile turns wobbly and you start stuttering like a total idiot, eyes a little foggy and body heating up invitingly, and katsuki is having the time of his life, whilst trying to keep his own emotions in check since he’s just a guy and cute girl turning all putty in his hold is not an easy thing to resist. “earth to loser,” he bites your cheek playfully before kissing it, soothing the momentary pain, “let’s go to my room.” you can only nod dumbly and let him tug you in the direction of his room with his hand clasped tightly around yours.