Katscki’s Recs—🎀 - Blog Posts

Hey i have a request for Bakugou..🤭

LIKE imagine sitting on his Lap and he’s like

„ i can feel u throbbing „

btw rlly like your writings

Hot. Why does every guy I write about kinda end up being an asshole har har

I don’t have time to read this back, but hopefully there’s no mistakes *smiles awkwardly*

Thankyou btw! <3

/-/-/-/

It's been at least an hour since your boyfriend Bakugo returned home early from patrolling the city, maybe even longer. You don't know, being this horny makes it kinda difficult to keep track of time.

You're currently being bounced on your shirtless hero's thigh whilst he fills in a few bits of paperwork, built muscles flexing underneath your weight. He has a bare arm snaked around your waist to keep you steady as he moves around on the couch, and you can feel his hard abs tensing against your back each time he leans forward to retrieve another sheet of paper from the coffee table in front of you.

You'd been looking forward to having your man back from his exhausting job a few hours earlier since it makes cleaning, cooking and whatnot much easier compared to when doing it alone. Although, you had made sure to complete your daily chores before he came home today anyway, solely due to the fact that you'd been unbearably aroused since he left this morning. You'd already made yourself cum twice to the thought of him but, clearly, nothing you can do is good enough.

You're sure he can tell how you're feeling right now! You definitely saw him try to hide a smirk when he came home to you in just a shirt and panties!

You can see that he's tired of working without being able to look at his face, the sighs that blow past his lips every so often giving him away. He also never finished removing his work clothes.

"Finished yetttt?" you drawl out slowly, wiggling along the bottoms of his hero costume to reposition yourself and unintentionally nudging your clit upon his leg, the sudden tingle of pleasure making you hurriedly cover a whimper with a forced sniff.

Sighing, Bakugo answers to your childish whining, "Just gotta fill this last one out... n' then put my signature on that one, I think."

"Can't that one wait?"

Yes, you know it's rather selfish. You should be letting him concentrate, but...!

You lean back on his warm shoulder, your head fitting perfectly in the crook of his neck. Glancing up, you admire his side profile and the way his reading glasses rest upon the bridge of his nose. You'd always thought he looked hot with them on. Maybe he would place them on his head to keep his wild hair pushed back as he goes down on you... Or maybe he'd keep them on, until your juices squirting all over the lenses becomes too much so that he can't see clearly?

Wow, you are not doing yourself any favours.

Steamy thoughts cause your body temperature to rise, voice wobbly when you beg once again, "C'monnnn, you hardly ever get home this early. I always get lonely when you're not here with me, sitting here by myself after doing housework and stuff..."

The vivid thought of you at home, all alone, not knowing what to do with yourself for hours yanks at your boyfriend's heartstrings and it's almost paining him. Slowly, Bakugo relaxes, letting the arm around you land limply over your thighs. Still staring up at his side profile, your cute smile graces his peripheral view once he manoeuvres his head to face in your direction to show he's listening.

He closes his eyes, ballpoint pen still in hand yet not on paper, and presses his forehead into your hair so he can breathe in your homely scent. He's contemplating. A wave of pride washes over you at his behaviour, only you could ever manage to coax him out of hero work.

But that pride dulls into a certain annoyance when he reverts back to his previous position and begins to work towards completing his last form, the pen in his hand barely releasing any ink unless he presses down hard enough. He's losing motivation, just a teeny bit more persuading.

"Katsukiiiii," you extend the last sound of his name in the whiniest, most pathetic way you can whilst lifting your upper half away from him, only to force yourself down with a bratty huff. Thankfully Bakugo lifted the pen away before you made him scribble over everything with your little tantrum.

A "tch" comes from your right and you frown. Fine then, you think, proceeding to (struggle to) tug your panties down, but only until they reach the other hand he has on your upper legs. Rough, scarred fingers instantly grasp the crumpled fabric but he pays no mind.

As he writes, Bakugo moves his clutch on your underwear from the twisted hem to the noticeable wet patch between your slightly spread thighs. It's difficult to open your legs more for him with your panties constricting them to at most a mere few inches apart. You watch your boyfriend toy with the dampened cloth whilst appearing to focus on what's in front of him, repeatedly swiping a thumb across the stickiness.

"So damn impatient." he mutters grumpily as always, ignoring the abrupt exhale you release at his hand cupping your yearning cunt. Those gorgeous crimson eyes roll when you attempt circling your hips to ideally catch your pulsing clit against his bottoms, but the angle your body is positioned prevents that from happening. Though it doesn't prevent the hero from landing a clean smack on the sensitive skin of your almost hidden pussy.

"Chgh! Ow..." you grit your teeth as the initial sting subsides, finding yourself flustered with desperate tears clouding your vision. Why does he have to be so mean! What's worse is that he hasn't even showed any satisfaction yet, continuing with his stupid forms or whatever like he's being forced to tease you so brutally.

Like nothing ever happened, he returns one thick middle finger to your aching bud, only to discover that your sweet slick has amounted to so much that he can hardly keep it in one place without slipping.

Bakugo's tone of voice is relatively normal as he states, "Fucking hell, I spanked you once and you're drenched,"

You mewl lightly, his touch doing the bare minimum, gliding up and down your entrance so easily, embarrassingly easy.

Wait, he's put the pen down. Where has his other hand gone?

You hadn't realised his mouth was closing in on your ear until a sharp nibble to it makes you freeze up. A gruff whisper unleashes a tsunami of shivers to race down your spine.

"You miss me that much when I'm gone, huh?"

It sounds like a teasing question, but you know it's more than that. A 'condescending demand' is more of a fitting term. That other hand of his that sneakily coiled around your throat just now is a more than enough sign for you tell the difference. It squeezes lightly, as your hero relentlessly flicks his finger over your puffy clit. Your trembling hand rapidly covers your mouth, the odd yet familiar fear of reaching your first orgasm of the moment filling your body with sparking adrenaline.

You're wailing into your palm, fidgeting in his lap due to the overstimulation and frustration at the panties stopping your legs from opening further, drinking in his words and the breathy moans escaping him because of your own delicious little whimpers.

" 'miss me so much that you just can't help yourself, ah? So much that you go outta your way to distract me from my work?" and with that said, he stops tormenting your cunt to shove three of his digits between your sloppy folds just to press them harshly over your clenching hole.

For the first time in what seems like forever, you finally take a deep, albeit shaky, breath through your nose. Your entire body twitches uncontrollably, you were so close.

"Answer my damn question, brat."

Jeez, you picked a bad day to annoy him. Who pissed in his cereal this morning?

The growing angry rumble in his voice causes you to panic and whine into your fingers like you're incapable of talking. The grip from around your neck disappears, then returns around your wrist this time, tearing it away from your plumped lips with a thin string of drool attached.

His sudden act of power evokes pleading words from you, weak voice breaking with a, "Ka-Katsuki, I jus' wanna play--"

"Answer the question. You're not stupid," he pauses for a second before circling your entrance with some pressure. You gasp at a painful sensation blooming across your cheek, realising the hot skin is being pinched with his teeth.

"I can feel you throbbing. You can't hide it, how your tight little hole begs for me. Just say it, baby. Me, you and your needy fuckin' body all know the answer."

His fingers are almost inside you and his huge palm is pressed up on your burning clit. Bakugo nuzzles into the crook of your neck, ghosting his lips along the salty skin.

"Do yourself a favour, for god's sakes." he muffles into your shoulder whilst taking a handful of your plush hips and kneading harder than ever.

"...Yes, yes-- I miss you that bad, Katsuki. I always miss you so so bad, it hurts,"

Your man chuckles lowly at you, decides to pull you further into him so that your ass grinds on his restrained, jolting cock. Your heart flutters at the sound of his laugh, even if it is mocking you. Your lusty eyes are forced to make contact with his, reading glasses pushing back his fringe just as you'd imagined. Then, he lovingly kisses the bite mark donning your face.

"Finally, s'all you had to do. Now, stop pissin' me off and bounce on it." he orders, effortlessly lifting you up by your underarms to buck his hips as he slams you down.

/-/-/-/

Bakugou who cares more about your sleep schedule than you do.

You’ll be up, doing something important at your desk and he just comes in and leans over the back of your chair to pepper kisses over your shoulder and neck, gently coaxing you to bed.

Usually you go without complaint, melting into his touch and letting him lure you to sleep much earlier than you would’ve on your own.

But sometimes, all he gets is a gentle push on his face and a protest of “five minutes”.

So he obliges, sets a timer and then returns on time, only to be waved off again. But he’s not one to take no for an answer.

Next thing you know, you’re being hoisted over his shoulder, his fingers tapping your ass and scolding you for trying to stay up later than you promised.

He insists he only cares about your sleep schedule because “one of us has to be the nice one so we have friends and you, baby, are not nice when tired”

He’d never admit he just doesn’t like sleeping without you.

Every tutoring session with boyfriend Bakugou in your rooms eventually turns into a heated make-out session to which he always puts a momentary stop to take off his glasses and toss them on the desk before he either pulls you to his lap or backs you onto the bed, not realizing just how crazy that little gesture drives you every time

Katscki’s Recs 🎀

posts that i’ve really enjoyed and think you should read too :))

(mainly for bakugou but there’s probably some iwaizumi stuff meandering in there)

Katscki’s Buddies 💗

these posts are just me talking to you guys directly asking how you are for you to message me random shit. just me trying to interact with people :))

[ nsfw ] — no penetration ; oral (f!receiving) ; m!masturbation ; lots of "first time" things and talk ; more virgin bakugou ; angst ; part one

[ wc ] — you know the drill: i'll update this in the morning LOL it's long tho !

you and bakugou avoid each other just like you did in middle school, only it's a little too easy this time around.

he's terrible at texting back in general, and because you're not initiating any conversations on your own — or sending funny memes or bringing up all might in some capacity — the radio silence draws ever on and on.

the closest you come to interacting with him is getting a snapchat from his mom, his figure in the background at their kitchen table. all you can see is the floof of his hair and the outline of his shoulders, but you're so bothered by the fact that he's home and didn't tell you that you don't even respond.

it officiates things in a bad way; he's really, actually not speaking to you.

and it's — fucking annoying.

at least in the past the distance was mutually and wordlessly agreed upon; you didn't talk because you were busy or didn't have time or anything new to say, but whenever he's come home — because he so rarely does — bakugou has always made his usual, god-honest attempt to irritate you.

and he still is, but this time he's doing it all wrong.

you go through the five stages of grief rather quickly, jumping from denial to anger overnight. several times, you type out something to text him, each message different than the last:

i know you were at your mom's jackass ☠️

it's really not a big deal and i think we should just forget about it, if that's what you wanna do ?

if i crossed some kind of boundary with you then i'm sorry and i won't say that again so you better call me before i put your baby pictures on the internet. i'm serious.

you're my best friend and i don't think it's weird that it happened. if you're being dumb because you're embarrassed, then don't be because i thought it was really hot

unsurprisingly, you don't send any of these and instead just stew in your own aggravation. lunch with him after the whole thing had been just as empty and awkward, and you think he chose the place near your apartment just so you could walk home and he didn't have to spend another second with you.

three months go by, which isn't long compared to other stints you've spent not talking to one another, but this one drags. like a lot. the only good that comes from it is that you graduate from anger to acceptance, finalizing a future without him in it.

except for the few times he invades your brain like a little parasite, red-faced and shuddering, gripping you like a lifeline, and then your stomach flips so hard that you feel sick and it takes genuine effort to check out of that daydream and back into a bakugou-less reality.

and then he shows up at your apartment, uninvited.

his mom hosts a sunday dinner that you don't go to, for several potential reasons. one would be that you'll have to see bakugou and pretend like nothing's happened even though you're still a little peeved; two is that you'll both ignore each other, and that'll reverse all your progress because he's been ignoring you already.

three is that he might not show up, and then you'll have to pretend that it doesn't bother you all night long.

none of that sounds better than watching trash television and falling asleep on your couch, so you tell mitsuki that you're very sick and very sorry, and that you'll make it up to her later.

because of this, the first thing bakugou says to you after you swing the front door open is, "you're supposed to be fuckin' dead."

suffice to say, you're surprised to see him; still outfitted in his hero costume, mask shoved up his forehead so that his hair is wilder than usual. there's kohl smudged around his eyes, messy, and they look brighter and harsher because of it.

there's also a family-mart plastic bag in his right hand.

"what?"

he just grunts, eyes snapping over your figure, dressed down in a too-large sweater and athletic shorts meant for running even though you've never done so in them.

in his hands — still gloved — the plastic crinkles obnoxiously as he holds it out. "old hag told me to bring this to you."

a can of low sodium soup, two apples, gatorade, and something over-the-counter for nausea. there's something else at the very bottom that you don't get the chance to inspect before he interrupts with his big, fat mouth.

"y'look fine to me, so why the hell didn't you go?"

you frown at him and — don't know what to say. clearly, it seems he's going the pretend-it-never-happened route, which is infuriating because he could just as well have done that months ago. even still, he won't hardly meet your gaze, staring for only a moment before rolling his eyes and huffing, sticking them anywhere else. if you peek close, real close, you'd say his ears are a little red, but maybe you're just looking for — something.

you shrug. "didn't feel like it."

he shakes his head like that's the stupidest thing he's ever heard, eyebrow arched. "why the hell not?"

"because, bakugou, i just didn't feel like going, i don't know what else to tell you." you huff, shrugging again when he doesn't say anything. "thanks for the stuff. is that it?"

his lips twist as he thinks, giving you another once-over before sighing. under his tank-top, you watch how his chest expands, the grimace that ripples over his face as he reaches a hand to lightly feel at his right side. "need your help with somethin'."

now you're just being petulant; you snort, raising your eyebrows as his eyes narrow at the sound. "me? are you joking? you need my help with—"

he groans loud enough to drown you out. "y'gonna let me in or y'just gonna run your mouth?" and so you step aside to wave him in wordlessly.

the backpack on his shoulder dumps to the ground by the door and he strolls into the kitchen like he owns the place, despite the fact that he's never been here before. you've lived in the unit for a year, but meetups are so infrequent and showing it off to him was never considered — until now; watching him shuffle through the bag on the counter, your nerves spike at the reality check.

alone together, again. in your apartment. well after dark.

that image of him is so — invasive, sweeping in at the worst times: between your legs, face as red as his eyes, the little moan he kept trying to swallow. how embarrassed he seemed when you asked if he felt good, if you felt good, and the fact that he still admitted it despite everything.

your entire body blazes like a flame to gasoline, and you try to focus on what else he's taking out of the bag, oblivious.

does he think about it at all? the way you have? at the root of the situation, that's what has been most bothersome: is he grossed out? simply embarrassed? does he feel taken advantage of? did he enjoy it and just doesn't know how to say it? the not knowing is driving you insane.

"i got—" bakugou awkwardly angles his body, gently touching at his side again. in his hands is a simple pack of first-aid supplies, like a wound wash and bandages and medical tape. "need you to change this shit for me."

"oh?" is all you can manage to say, still distracted, and whatever is obvious in your voice has his eyes snapping to you from across the kitchen, adam's apple bobbing. you clear your throat, struggling for normalcy. "the hell did you do?"

he's — going to take his shirt off. clearly, by the way he stretches out his shoulders and then slowly reaches behind himself to grab the material by the back, carefully pulling it up over his head with a low, stinging hiss.

bakugou's always been a lean kid — guy — but pulled so taut like that, after years of working out muscles you didn't even know he had, he looks — stupidly shredded, and the slow reveal of his tight stomach is not helping you to focus.

you just never realized how hot it was, because you never looked at him like that. until recently.

his mask comes off with his shirt and he tosses both onto the kitchen counter — again, as if he pays the bills here — and his hair is a mess and he usually doesn't care, but he runs a hand through it several times before finally looking back at you, eyes outlined in black.

"y'gonna help me or...?" he shrugs, trying to appear impassive — but it's too obvious; something's shifted, for the both of you.

you don't trust your voice anymore, so you just shuffle over to him, frowning at the dirty, worn bandage that's already unsticking from his skin. with his teeth, he pulls off his gloves and it's a wonder why he even wears them, really, because his hands are filthy underneath, covered in soot and black-stained grease.

standing like he is, arm slightly raised, you can see all his sweat, muscles shifting under his skin as he breathes, and his hairy armpit is staring you in the face and you don't know when he stopped being 12 and started being 20 and when he became such a man. it's not fair, that he should suddenly be so — attractive.

"you're disgusting," you tell him — and mean it — and it's met with such hot and irritated surprise that you have to keep talking before he explodes. "you should probably take a shower before putting on a new bandage."

it's road-rash up his right side, still shiny and wet and blood red. still raw. just looking at it is enough to make you cringe.

bakugou huffs, exasperated. "okay, gimme a towel then."

"i didn't mean take a shower here!" you squawk, taking a step back as if to further yourself from the suggestion.

detonation imminent; bakugou curls his hands into fists and the same muffled warning you've been getting your whole life crackles. "okay," he says, voice thin and razor sharp. "you're coming back to mine then?"

your whole life flashes before your eyes — or at least the few minutes it took for him to lose his shit between your legs. "what? no, why would i?"

"i need your help with this, dip-shit!"

"you're saying there's no one else that can—"

"if you want me to fuck off, just say so!"

things go silent, startlingly so. totally still, except for the rising flush across his face, one that you used to read as annoyance but are now translating into something else you never could have expected from him: embarrassment. it's starting to give you whiplash, how much you're discovering despite knowing him all your life.

"closet is at the end of hall," you say in surrender. "bathroom will be on your left."

bakugou mutters a quiet, angry little "jesus" before stalking back to the front door to get his bag, and then he's disappearing into the dark of your apartment.

you slump down on your couch and — struggle. watching the tv and absorbing nothing; it's a rerun anyway. the sudden, overwhelming urge to cry washes over you as the shower spray sounds in the background, followed by a low-timbered swear and the clatter of several bottles against the tub.

it's easy to butt heads with bakugou. you don't think there is any other way to interact with him, really, because he's so argumentative and that used to be okay, but now things are — off. you don't know what he's doing, what he wants, why he's here and in your shower when he could be at home or getting patched up at his agency. all the conclusions you can come to are frightening, a little, and they're hard to fathom; is he — does he want more?

is this just because he's a guy that got some action and is looking for a second round, or is this because it's you?

this stupid situation has only added an unnecessary amount of drama to your life, and you think maybe the pretend-it-never-happened route is the smartest path, even if you can't stop thinking about him and the strength coiled in his biceps, in his shoulders, and how tall he's become and — when did he lose most of the baby fat in his face, and when did he get such a sharp jawline?

how much is he working out, to get his body like that? he used to be a skinny, scrappy little thing and now — he can probably lift a truck over his head. must run all the time, though he's always been active, and you've never looked before, but you wonder how nice his ass is.

what he looks like under the shower, soapy and wet.

furiously, you blink out of your daydream, feeling like a foreign body in your own skin; if someone would have told you only a handful of months ago that you'd be having weird, sensual thoughts about your best friend, you would have laughed so hard you'd cried. or puked.

but if anyone else stands in that picture with him, your heart squeezes painfully. traitorously. already, you've shared so many memories with him; the start of elementary school, learning how to swim, giving each other equally bruised faces, staying up all night to study for important exams, tackling middle school graduation side-by-side, him making himself at home in your first apartment, just as you had done in his.

the devil on your shoulder asks: what's a few more firsts?

it seems like the shower stops in record time, but when you hone back in on the tv, the episode has changed and new drama is settling in. distantly, the rattle of the doorknob is more aggressive than it needs to be and when the echo of a swung-open door trails down the hallway, your heart suspends in your throat. never have you had to think this much just to be around him, and it's bothersome.

clean and relaxed, he's — softer; you spare a quick glance at him when he comes to stand beside the couch, distracted by the show on screen, and his hair is damp, starting to stick out again the more it dries. his muscles aren't made of marble anymore; still there and rippling, but he breathes calmly and his skin is baby smooth, tender. you eye his tummy and the line of fine hair running down into the waistband of his sweats, and do your best to ignore the sudden desire to kiss right above his belly-button.

"since when are they talking again?"

just as he looks at you, your gaze shoots back to the screen, eyes narrowing as you try to rapidly remember what's happening in the day-to-day for stay-at-home, pro-hero wives.

"uh," you blink, distracted — and he notices, "what do you mean? they've been hanging out, like, all season."

bakugou watches the tv in silence, occasionally glancing down to the bandage in his hands as he carefully spreads it out, as he dampens a towel with the antiseptic and dabs at his wounds. 

"even after she hit on whatshername's husband?"

"yeah, that was a misunderstanding," you frown at him but he doesn't see it. "remember when they went to that dinner party and all hell broke loose because—"

his flat look serves for a rude interruption. "they go to a lot of fuckin' dinner parties."

"i know, but," you scoff, annoyed, "have you even watched this season?"

bakugou scoffs, mocking and over-dramatic, "yeah, as if i've got all day to sit on my ass and watch your stupid girly—"

"you're watching it right now."

"because you've got it on!" he huffs when you sink into the couch, resolutely trying to ignore him. “start it over then, if you’re gonna cry about it.”

you gape up at him, going as far as to pause the show so that maybe he’ll acknowledge you and all your annoyance; he doesn’t. “start it over? this is, like, episode 26!”

“so? got a hot date or what?”

he’s not at all interested in the answer and that’s obvious when he spins around and holds out the bandage expectantly, staring down at the scrape — glowing red and angry, a mirrored wound you can feel scabbing across your own skin; itchy and irritating. 

finally he looks at you properly, frowning softly and — you see him then, can feel the tension lining his body as you carefully tape on his bandage. trying to hide how uncomfortable he is, though you he’s never had to do so with you in all of — forever. it’s nauseating, and again you're struck by the image of him, only now it's of the horror that had been on his face afterwards, at what you’d done.

it pushes everything over the edge; quietly, so that your voice doesn’t expose anything, you say, “you haven’t spoken to me in three months.”

silence weighs in the air immediately, heavy, and you watch him try to appear unbothered, shrugging as he stares back at the unmoving tv, jaw tight. “phone works both ways.”

“yeah, but,” your hands drop as he steps away to pull on a loose shirt, and you curl your fists into your own. just as he has. “i’m always the one having to reach out—”

“so why didn’t you?”

“what?” frustrated, you massage your temples, trying to soothe the nuclear headache threatening to incinerate you. “are you seriously trying to—”

“what’s the big deal?” he huffs, slumping down into the far corner of the couch before cringing, swearing as he gently touches at his bandage. “you’ve gone longer than that without talkin’ to me, so…”

the tone of his voice is infuriating, as if this is somehow all your fault — and maybe it is, because you shouldn’t have crossed such a boundary with him, but — he can be such a dick.

“it’s not just me bakugou, you could have just as easily picked up the phone, too!” your teeth grind when he shrugs again, leaning his head against his fist as he looks anywhere else. it almost looks like guilt that's dragging his expression down, but you know better than to assume he could feel such a thing. “you always—”

“jesus, if i always do this—”

“shut up for a second, damn!” and then because you can’t stand the stupid look on his face, you kick him in the thigh for good measure; it garners a warning glare, his teeth bared.

he easily catches you by the ankle when you try to kick him again. "tell me what the big fuckin' deal is."

"the big deal? oh, you mean besides the fact that you totally came in your pants?"

it stuns him for a second, eyes wide and face pale, before he's yanking you across the couch, narrowly avoiding the knee aimed for his gut. "you—fucking—!" a smack lands across the back of his head when he ducks and he plants a heavy hand over your face, forcing you to close your eyes and turn away.

"you're gonna blow my head off!"

"if i wanted you dead, you—" he intercepts the hand you blindly reach up with, crossing it awkwardly over your chest so that you're pinned down like a wild animal. "you would be!"

"kiss my ass, katsuki." you snark, and it does something to him, your use of his first name, because he's still for a moment before sitting back and collecting your wrists correctly, to hold against the couch arm above your head.

"you're such a fucking—" he swoops in so low that his nose almost brushes yours and he grabs the front of your sweater with his free hand, like he's gonna shake you down for some lunch money. "fuck, i could just—" and then he groans long and loud, so annoyed he can't find the words.

"yeah, well—"

"shut up," he lightly knocks his forehead into your cheekbone with another dissatisfied sound, letting out a heavy sigh as he sinks his face down into your neck.

all your muscles tighten on instinct, waiting for the sharp bite that's due any second — but his fingers only uncurl from the material of your sweater, slowly slipping around to tangle into the hair at the nape of your neck. his pull there is a little tight, enough for you to know he's got you, but not so much that you're head is aching; you can't imagine you have a sensitive scalp, anyway, after growing up around him.

you want to say something — which is an annoying realization because now you feel like too much of a talker — but you just focus on the heave of his chest over yours, the breath that moves through him. the minute jostle of his hips as he settles further into the space between your legs, almost comfortable. the slight swell of something unfamiliar against your inner thigh.

bakugou presses his face a little further into you, warm, and the tip of his nose drags along the column of your throat. successfully sedating you, distracted by the feel of his parted lips against your skin.

your body is hot all over, very suddenly; the sweater now feels like a death trap and hopefully you don't smell weird, though it's never been a worry before, not around him, and your adrenaline is rushing and you're kinda tired of acting like you don't know why that is.

fuck pretend-it-never-happened. it's been a long three months.

he's almost entirely pressed against you, but there is a small gap of space that closes when you open your legs a little wider, hitching them around his waist as his breath stutters against your neck.

it's happened so quick, so effortlessly yet again; you give a purposeful roll of your hips upward and are lost in him all over.

only — it's different than it was before because straddling his lap hadn't done much for you, but now the weighted outline of him is right against your center and the pressure that drags across you sends tingles up your spine and has your toes curling in your socks. when you let out a tiny gasp at the stomach-flipping sensation, tension coils in every curve of his body and the grip around your wrists and in your hair only tightens.

you can't help it; you let out a "katsuki" in the same heady tone as you did in his apartment and it has him falling easily into the slow grind you've been unable to stop thinking about. what shifts across his face is obvious, against your throat, like the scrunch of his brow and the slow drop of his mouth. he tries to muffle his breathy "oh" into your skin, but it echoes throughout your entire body, has an ache beginning between your thighs that he's already soothing.

the nip comes then, teeth sinking gently into your neck as you weakly cry out in surprise, but it's only for a moment before his tongue — wet and heavy and wide — is tasting over your jugular, lips closing around your skin as he sucks experimentally. you let out a proper moan then, squirming against his hands and up into him so that the pressure doubles for the both of you.

katsuki finally relinquishes your wrists, carding his hand down your body before coming to squeeze your hip, your thigh, locking your leg tight around his waist. "yeah," he rasps, voice deeper than you've ever heard it as he presses his forehead into yours. "how do you fuckin' like it?"

being bitten, he means, vengefully, but you're spread open beneath him and he's rutting the hard length of himself against you roughly, eagerly, and panting open-mouthed and you tighten up at the aggression in his tone and in his hands and his very being and —

"fuck," you gasp, loud and wanton, "fuck, katsuki—"

and then you are kissing your best friend.

the boy from down the street that always ruined your hair and taught you where to place your thumb if you were gonna throw a punch. that used his empty pen cartridge to blow spitballs at you and mocked you for losing crane games, even though he ended up giving you the stupid stuffed animal anyway. that had to be king of the castle, with his stick-sword and cardboard shield. that demanded you be his queen, weeds he picked for you woven carefully into your hair by his hands.

katsuki kisses like he's shy — another term you've never thought of in relation to him and all his fire and brimstone; it's slow and a little delayed in comparison to what his hips are doing, as if he's in his head too much and is trying to figure how to move his lips and when. tentative and chaste, until you run your tongue along the seam of his mouth and pry him open a little more.

it's making you hungry; that possessiveness from before is creeping back in, eager to have him in ways nobody else has. you arch into him, biting at his lips and sighing into his mouth as goosebumps break out across his skin.

with a slant of his head, he deepens the kiss and you can feel his nostrils flaring, the fingernails scratching against your scalp, the bruises he's probably leaving on your thigh. he lets up only to breathe, panting into your ear when he begins to bite and suck on your skin again; your earlobe and neck and even the cut of your jaw. like maybe he's hungry, too.

you fist a hand into his shirt just to tug it up his body, feeling the strong contract of his stomach when your fingers ghost against him. katsuki gets the hint quickly, rising up to his knees to tear the material off — much more harshly than he did before, which has you eying his crinkled bandage — and you move fast to take advantage of the new space.

it gives him pause when you yank down your shorts, pulling your legs back to slip them off and fling them somewhere across the room. his face goes red again, and his heaving chest, too, and his eyelids flutter as he takes in the sight of your flimsy, damp cotton underwear. you start to pull the sweater up your stomach, but he's watching so intently — so ravenous — that you get shy, without a bra underneath the too-hot fabric.

in any other situation, katsuki would have grabbed onto this moment, your hesitation, and held it over your head to come back and poke at. cataloged this little weak spot for future arguments, but now —

not once has he ever been gentle with you in anything; it's enough of a surprise that that's even a possibility for him, for the two of you, but he presses his body back into yours and kisses you deep, calloused fingers tracing over the new skin exposed to him. he doesn't try to push the sweater up any further, but one hand slips up your back, to splay between your shoulder-blades like it had before, and he's so close and you've never known him to be this — careful. with anything.

"y'r so—" katsuki rolls his hips again and groans, whispering against your lips. "fuckin' soft."

his sweatpants are still on and you don't know why, but when you reach down to help tug them off, he grabs your wrist before they can go too far.

he presses the heat from his cheeks into your own, like he wants to share it. "you done this before?"

"have you?"

he frowns at your non-answer. "i asked first."

you have. three times, technically, though a phantom pain echoes in your stomach at the memories, and you feel an odd emptiness in your chest that makes you really glad to have the sweater still on. your answer leaves you a little ashamed, under his gaze, and you purposely turn from it. "would...that bother you?"

before, you wouldn't have cared, didn't care, nor were you even thinking of him when it happened. wherever he must have been; u.a, probably, getting ready to make his lifelong dreams a reality while you trusted a boy that didn't look at you the way katsuki is now. that didn't hold you and touch you and kiss you the way your best friend has.

he scoffs, though it doesn't sound as careless as it usually does and he squeezes his eyes shut so you can't read them. the truth that's hidden there. "no," he lies, "why would—" but he doesn't finish, just sighs.

"it was awful anyway," you tell him, offering a small smile when he peeks down at you. he doesn't say anything, so you kiss him once, twice, until his tension is melting away. "should have been you."

the grip on your thigh turns almost painful and he grinds into you so roughly that you both gasp, loud in the tight, barely-there space between you. "yeah," he rasps, sucking another bruise into the hollow of your throat. "fuckin' should have."

you try to imagine it; eighteen and nervous, naked in front of him for the first time since you were seven and got into paint from his mom's workshop, when she made you both strip down in the same room, furious. how different he might have been with you then, how much more unsure. kinder than your ex, without a doubt, even for katsuki, and he probably wouldn't have even gone through with the whole thing, considering how uncomfortable the first time is.

or maybe it wouldn't have been, with him; maybe he would have looked into it, taken the time to wind you up the same way he is now so that you were eager and wet and ready. looking down at you with his wide, almost-black eyes in the dim light of a table lamp. another first to share.

"if i'd have just," he huffs, allowing his sweats to slip down past his hips. shoulders trembling when he makes you moan out his name again. "fuckin'—grown a pair 'n told you—"

the weight of him becomes more obvious, the straining bulge he's rocking into your core, and seeing it is — really getting to you; wearing such tight boxers, you can tell just how close the pink tip of him is to his waistband, nearly peeking out from just how hard he is.

it takes a shrug to get him out of your shoulder, so you can press your lips back to his. "can still be you, katsuki," you breathe, biting on his bottom lip until his tiny frown is gone. "if you want, it can still be you."

for a minute, he indulges himself in the greedy kiss you're giving him, testing strokes of his tongue against your own as his hips stutter out of rhythm — but it's when your fingers brush through the hair at the base of his stomach, trying to slip a hand into his boxers, that he's gasping into your mouth and pushing his body up and away.

determination settles over his face then — along with his vibrant flush — and he doesn't say anything as he grabs you like it's nothing and scoots you up the couch so that your back is pressed to the arm, propped up. once he settles between your thighs, he just rests his face into the plush of your stomach — which is humiliating and has you squirming, but the firmness returns to his hands; holding your hips so that you'll still, so that he can kiss right above your belly button, just as you wanted to do to him.

heat flares in your own cheeks — and down your chest and in your ears and searing on the back of your neck — when you feel the first puff of his warm breath against your underwear, where you're sensitive and slick and aching.

this is completely new to you; your ex-boyfriend probably never considered tasting you here, certainly not with the same desire that's painted across katsuki's face. you have to slap your hands over your eyes and bite your lip, embarrassed, suddenly, at how desperate the simple press of his mouth to your underwear makes you.

"hey, hey," katsuki grunts, pinching at your hips until you peek at him through your fingers. the highlights of his cheeks are crimson and his eyes are black, glaring with an intensity that makes you shiver. "it's my fuckin' turn."

to make you fall apart, he means, just as he had.

at the first hot drag of his tongue against the material, you squirm, leaning your head back so that your expression is hidden. another grunt comes from him, you think in dissatisfaction, but he continues, laving until your mouth is falling open and the fabric between you is drenched.

he's gone just long enough to be replaced by the ghost of his thumb, touching you much too-gently. hunger has you stealing another look at him, watching behind your hands as he stares, blatantly, at the mess he's already made of you, stroking the pad of his finger against the sodden material in interest.

discovering; a curious swipe over where you're aching has you sighing and trembling and his eyes jump back up to your covered face, open mouth curling into the faintest smirk as he does it again and again and again. it's bullshit — how quickly he's figured you out, almost as if your body was meant to be unraveled by his hands — but then again, it didn't take you long either, did it?

"katsuki," you hiss, digging a hand into the hair at the crown of his head, tugging on it until his smile is dropping and his eyes are lidding. your body is on fire and your legs are trying to close around his head, hips squirming as he toys with you, like the little brat he is.

deadly serious, he grabs your underwear and holds it tightly in his fist so that you can wiggle one leg free, and then he's tugging it out of his way and devouring you whole.

it's sloppy, the mixture of spit and slick as runs his tongue through you, wet and wide, and you're so sensitive that you squeak out in surprise, fingers tightening. a groan punches from deep in his chest and your hips buck at the vibration of it, drawn so tight already.

"oh my—" you gasp, dropping your other hand from your face to grip the couch; eyes closed, you're somewhere else entirely, lost in the clumsy swirl of pleasure between your thighs.

katsuki raises his head to breathe, reaffirming your grip in his hair by wrapping his fingers tight over your own. at the shiny sight of his mouth, you can't help but to whimper with a needy roll of your hips, until he's simply sticking out his tongue and allowing you to ride it, to use it as you need to. it's embarrassing, how desperate you are, but his eyes are knife-sharp and trained on you and you've never experienced anything like this.

he moves then, slipping one hand further up under your sweater, cupping your breast carefully as his lids flutter — and the other is shoved between his hips and where they're pressed into the couch. you tighten up at just the idea of him rutting into his hand while kissing your messy slit, moaning openly, head falling back as your eyes start to roll.

this is — fuck — you've never been so turned on in all your life and it's driving you crazy; at one point in time, the thought of bakugou like this would have grossed you out, but now you think it's only like this because of him. anyone else wasn't right, not the way he is, and he's maybe a little impatient and unwieldy, but it's katsuki. between your legs with his mouth on you — something he wanted — and his fingers are brushing over your nipple and the other is down his pants, wrist flexing and —

"fuck, oh fuck, i—" you try to sit up, chasing blindly after the high, but he forces you back down. a long groan is muffled by your skin and when he lifts his chin just a little, a glob of spit falls off his lips and the sight makes your toes curl before he presses back into you and sucks.

everything goes blank as you free-fall into him and you cum quietly, muscles so taut in your body that your voice can't even squeeze out of your throat. the minute you're able to breathe, he's biting a mark into your thigh and yanking you back down under him, lips slick against yours.

tasting yourself on his tongue has you coming out of the heady haze, ravenous; katsuki helps you to shove his boxers down, though he can only gasp tightly when he grinds against you, coating himself.

"'m not—" his soft hair tickles your face when he shakes his head, arms trembling beside your head. "i won't be able to—"

"keep going," you breathe, smearing your mess over the tip of him and down his length as he groans. "i don't care, keep going."

he smashes his lips to yours, though he's only able to meet the pump of your hand a few times before dropping his forehead to your shoulder, spine curling, fingers digging into your hair. katsuki swears long and low, eventually letting out a soft sound you wouldn't have expected from him as his entire body tenses and he spills onto your stomach.

"goddamn it," he moans into the fabric of your sweater, weary, after a long moment. "now 'm fuckin' tired."

and for some reason that makes you laugh, though the lust is dissipating and your nerves are trembling at the memory of how this ended last time. katsuki pulls away suddenly, making your stomach drop, and he doesn't look at you as he detangles himself, awkwardly shuffling away from the couch and out of sight.

you frown down at the mess on your stomach, the way it's pooling in your belly-button — and you'll be damned to let him leave you like this, but just as you finishing reciting over and over what you want to say, he appears, towel in hand.

it's still damp from his shower and you tense on instinct, waiting for him to start twirling it with that stupid grin on his face, but katsuki only arranges your legs so that he can sit between them, carefully wiping you off as his cheeks burn. and you just watch him, the way he runs a hand over your skin to make sure he got it all before helping to finagle your underwear back on properly.

then he just looks at the tv, unmoving. if he's trying to appear casual at all, it's a piss-poor job — but he's never been able to keep his fat mouth shut for long.

the look he gives you lacks its usual heat, though you can't tell if that's just because he's drained or if he's withdrawn for another reason. "what now? six months, a year before you talk to me again?"

and you're annoyed all over again.

"what?" you return his weak glare, sitting up properly so that you're right in his face. "are you kidding me? you didn't talk to me either."

"the hell did you want me to say?" he scoffs and — you could slap him, for ruining everything so quickly. wipe that stupid look off his face with your fist. "'sorry i busted a nut, you free for dinner?'"

"yeah!" the shrill tone of your voice makes his eyes widen, and you throw your hands up in the air, incensed. "that sounds wonderful in comparison to coming home and avoiding me."

"i didn't avoid you," he mutters, though his eyes drift back to the tv. "just didn't have shit to say."

"bakugou," you slap your hands over your face for the second time, though this one is much worse than the last. "how is that fucking fair? what did you want me to say?"

and now — his eyes are full and furious, mouth curling down into an ugly frown that you've so rarely had the pleasure of seeing on his face; every time his mother made you go home and when you told him you weren't gonna try to test into u.a. when he overheard your girl friends teasing you for liking an older boy in your school.

when he was losing you, you realize.

"'m not doin' this shit with you," he mutters, definitive, before swiping his shirt up off the floor and standing. "not doin' this bakugou shit."

"oh my god," you groan, rising, too, because your stomach is twisting at the thought of him leaving again, no matter how angry he's making you. "what does that even mean?"

you trail him as he stomps into your kitchen to grab his work shirt and mask from the counter, trying to interrupt him at every turn, and the scowl on his face only grows when you shoot to stand in front of the door, just as he reaches for his bag.

"you can't—"

"this," he seethes, gesturing to you and then himself before gritting his teeth so hard that they should shatter. "this is why i didn't wanna fuckin' talk to you."

you knew he didn't. the minute lunch ended and when you made out his shape in mitsuki's snapchat: you knew. but hearing it from his mouth is as much of a confirmation as it is a kick in the gut.

there's more he's struggling to say, mouth shifting as he chews on the words and the skin of his lips. his gaze jumps from you to the door to something on the counter before he's swallowing again, staring down at you with brand new eyes.

the light in the kitchen makes them shine, angry and sad. "i can't—" he sighs, nostrils flaring like he's mad at himself for struggling. "go back to bakugou, not after—" a vague hand waves toward the couch. "maybe this is just, i don't know, whatever to you, but i — fuckin' can't."

tell me what the big fuckin' deal is; earlier, he'd demanded it of you, why the silence mattered so much this time when it didn't seem to matter before. in the midst of your anger, you didn't think twice about his wording but now —

he wanted you to say it. katsuki wanted to hear you say that it hurt to be without him for so long, and he kept his distance because he was afraid that you wouldn't.

"you're so stupid," you mutter it quietly, and his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, enraged, but before he can get another dumb word out, you loop your arms around his neck and just — kiss him.

not crazy or wild or lust-driven, just your lips to his, slowly working him out of the shell he's tried to hide behind.

the bag in his hand hits the ground with a soft thud and then his arm is wrapping around your back, tugging you to him as he finally breathes and opens his mouth — and lets you in.

when you cup the sides of his neck, katsuki inhales sharply through his nose, pulse jumping under your fingers, and his lashes flutter against your cheeks as he opens his eyes. he pulls back enough so that you can stare at each other and you realize that eyeliner is still clinging to his lids, making him seem sharper than usual.

you're a little stunned, then, at how beautiful he is. 

"i can't go back to bakugou either, dumbass." gently, you knock your forehead into his, smiling at the pout on his face. "you've totally screwed that up for me."

"yeah, well," he huffs, "about time. only took you all my goddamn life."

"sorry i'm late."

"what else is new?" he rolls his eyes and you squeak, indignant, before sticking your tongue out at him, patience worn thin already.

you expect a bite or a pinch to the cheek or another rough violence that falls along the lines that have made up your relationship thus far — but instead there is only something soft that reflects in his eyes and the shy kiss he presses to your lips, something that he's kept safe just for you, guarded, with his stick-sword and cardboard shield.

if you love me at all you will read it plz it’s so good

Hear me out-

I was in a restaurant and y'know how so eti.es you get really horny for no apparent reason?

Well that kinda happened and all I could think about was waiter Bakugou noticing and giving you his keys so you could have car sex about half an hour later when his shift ended.

I'm so tired of brain rot tbh 😮‍💨

I am listening

I swear it always happens at the most inconvenient of times too, it's just an intrusive thought like 'imagine if u got bent over this table and fucked' LMFAO ITS SO CRAZY

warnings: mdni; two strangers having car sex lol female reader in mind, fingering (f!receiving), vaginal sex, protected sex. 1.6k

Anyway, yeah he noticed at first the fleeting glances you were giving to him. He was much too sexy cute to be working at some restaurant, he was worthy of being a model with how defined his body is, how his face is probably the most beautiful face you've ever lied eyes upon. But back to his muscles, the way his white dress shirt strains against his biceps whenever he's carrying multiple plates on his arms (you know how they just balance them like magicians) and you can't help but... watch him.

He at first thought you were maybe trying to flag him down to order something but you'd always look away the second he'd make eye contact with you with the most bashful of smiles on your face, trying your hardest to hide your face away from him so he didn't see just how much he was effecting you. So now he has a new interest in you, watches you whenever he comes over to fill up your friend's drinks, and how you most definitely check out his hands, arms, and gold chain beneath his shirt's open collar. You definitely looked at his ass when he turned around for a moment to let a colleague pass.

Bakugou is a man who draws a lot of attention, naturally, man is a greek statue. So he discretely passes you his keys, maybe you get up to go to the toilet or something—yes he knows it's a bit creepy of him to be basically lurking waiting for you to come out before he's pushing his car keys into your hand. "Wait for me, it's the black car in the number 3 parking spot." It's quick, already turning away before you can even process what the hell he's on about and the fact you're holding keys to some fancy car.

Rolling on the end of his shift, Bakugou is nervous. What if you just said fuck it and stole his car? He doesn't think you look the type but shit, it's a thought he has regardless. But the instant relief he finds when you're leaning against his car, a nervous look on your face until you see him approaching and instantly that shy smile is back on your face.

"Didn't think you'd still be here," he admits, watching the way your eyes once again roam over his face and down his chest before you meet his eyes again. He's stood right in front of you, a boyish smile on his face.

"I did think about leaving." you smile back easily, and he's relieved you didn't leave so soon. He admits you're extremely cute, and this is not something he does—ever. You offer his keys back up to him, pretty finger holding them up for him and he goes to reach for them before you're pulling them back towards you. Oh, you wanted to play with him? He's always down to play.

Bakugou's crowding into your space, your back pressed into the passenger's door of his car and he places both of his hands against the roof to fully lean into your space. His head tilts, he can feel your soft breaths against his face now with how close he is, can taste your perfume on the back of his tongue and he just wants to devour you. So he doesn't waste a second, moving in to lay a hungry kiss against your lips that quickly develops into him pushing his tongue into your mouth.

It doesn't take much for both of you to fumble with the keys to open the backdoors of his car, you're the first to get in with your back down against the seats and Bakugou crawls in after you to loom over you like a beast. It's so dark in the car, just the neon light of the restaurant sign giving the both of you an orange glow.

Whilst you half expected him to jump on you, to start tearing your clothes off to indulge in spur-of-the-moment sex with a stranger. You're pleasantly surprised when he lowers his lips to yours again, slow yet fulfilling kisses; he's drinking you in entirely. It has your stomach stirring to life with both butterflies and undeniable arousal. His hands wander, slipping beneath the hem of your shirt to glide up against your sides until his thumbs roll over your bra.

Your eyes flutter at the feeling of his thumb roaming over your stiffening nipples, it's all so intoxicatingly intimate that it should feel weird but instead, it just has your head whirling. Unable to stop yourself from gasping when he pulls his lips away from your own to tuck his head into your neck, sucking blood to the surface of your skin in the form of small bruises.

When he does finally work you out of your clothes, as well as his own, you're both panting against each other. It was unbearable hot in the back of his car, all you could smell was him and it had your eyes in half-mast, staring up at him as if he were the only person in the world. Bakugou has a very similar look in his eyes, his fingers gliding between your legs to feel just how wet you are before plunging two fingers into you to work you open.

He swallows your moans whole and lets his tongue roll against your own and the rumbling groan making its way up his throat is almost lost in the kiss when you clench around his fingers. When he finally feels like you're stretched enough for him, he pulls his fingers back and raises up enough from you to let you watch the way his tongue drags over his fingers and sucks them into his mouth. It has your eyes fluttering, hole clenching around nothing in desperate need to be filled with what's been bobbing against his stomach this entire time.

"Patience," he grins when you whine a little, bucking your hips into him whilst he leans over you to dig through the gym bag you hadn't even noticed on the floor next to you. He pulls out a golden square package, your eyebrows shooting up in silent question. "Promise I don't usually do this,"

"You just keep condoms in your bag?"

And he shrugs, rolling the rubber down along his length and it has you licking your lips. His dick is fucking pretty, a pretty dick isn't something you'd ever think but nevertheless. That is what it is, it's flushed a pretty pink, the tip leaking with pre and the veins are practically throbbing. "Never know when I'll run into a pretty little thing like you." He snickers at the way you roll your eyes playfully, rewrapping your legs around his lithe waist to adjust himself.

His eyes meet yours in a silent ask for consent, and you nod your head. Hips raising just enough for him to roll the head of his cock through your lips before pushing against your entrance. Even with his fingers having stretched you some, it doesn't quite help with how thick he actually is. It's an impossible stretch, has your eyes rolling into the back of your head with a moan leaving your lips. Bakugou is no better off either, unable to stop the groan in his throat and his eyebrows furrow together at the way you clench around him.

Your body nearly jumps from the sudden friction against your clit, thick yet delicate fingers rubbing circles against you to try and coax you into relaxing more. His eyes are locked onto where the two of you are joined, he watches how your arousal is sticking to the condom and he can't help but wish he just went in raw. Maybe next time.

The thought has his hips unexpectantly bucking forward, a moan pulled from your pretty lips when he lays flush with his thighs to your ass. Next time? Will there even be a next time? Fuck, he sure hopes so. Your pussy feels too fucking good for a one-time thing, but would you want to see him again? That's when he decides to make it his mission to ensure you're not gonna ghost him or turn him down whenever he asks for your number.

His hips are fluid, rolling back and forth until he feels you relax, listening to the way your breaths become more erratic as you try to not get lost in the sensation of his cock pressing against that one spot that has your head filled with no thoughts other than him. The muted slap of his hips against your ass is loud in the car, you're certain the whole thing itself is moving from the way he's fucking hard and deep into you. So deep in fact you can feel him in your throat, choking on the moans and gasps.

He holds your gaze, watching the sheen of sweat on your pretty face in the flickering orange neon light and how your eyes are glazed over in what must be your approaching orgasm face. It's fucking beautifully sexy, his stomach tenses and he throws everything he has at you. Fingers pinching and swirling at your clit until he feels your walls flutter, and then squeeze, milking him for all he's worth. Bakugou moans, more of a whine when he starts to spill his seed in the condom and he wishes it was inside of you, wishes he could watch it be pushed from your abused little hole and roll down the crease of your ass onto his fancy leather seats.

The car is hot, warm and stuffy, Bakugou leans over you but is careful to not lay his entire weight on you. You're positively boneless beneath him, still reeling from your orgasm when he peppers a string of delicate kisses along your collarbone. Your head rolls to look at him, a dopey smile on his face that you can't help but mirror.

He's the first to break the air, a blush on his face. "I never caught your name."

ring me

18+ MDNI, sensitive content

warnings: katsuki calls while you’re in the middle of touching yourself because he’s got intuition like that, fem!reader, phone sex, voice kink (barely), marriage talk, angst if you squint, dialogue heavy, sextape mentioned, generally filthy <3

wc: 1.2k

Whoever’s calling is lucky they didn’t ruin an orgasm. The phone starts ringing while you’re knuckle deep in your cunt, and when you check the caller ID, you have no choice but to pick up.

“Hi, Katsuki.” You do your best to coach your voice to sound mostly normal and can only hope he doesn’t pick up on your erratic breath.

“Hi, baby. just wanted to check on you. You up to anythin’?” Fuck, he’s the perfect fiancé. He’d be so upset to know what you’re doing without him. You click the speaker button and toss your phone onto the mattress next to you.

Just hearing the soft rasp of his voice was enough to get you moving again, but instead touching your pussy how he would this time. Plunging two fingers into yourself and curling them up, using the other hand to press onto your clit. Sometimes he doesn’t rub circles into it like he knows you like, only presses, and when he’s feeling particularly mean, pinches. His goal each time is to make your thighs shake and cunt suck his fingers in deeper, and only then does he give your body what it wants. You’re already hot and leaking, slick dripping onto the clean sheets under you.

“N-Nothing much.” You reply, attempting to sound as bored as possible, cursing yourself when you most definitely do not.

Maybe he won’t catch it.

“Nothing, huh?” He questions, and you can clearly hear the smirk infecting voice, “Doesn’t sound like nothin’ to me.”

You have no such luck, you suppose.

“Tell me the truth.” He commands, without much conviction behind his words. But still, you could never disobey.

“Touching myself.” You break easily and confess amid sharp inhales of breath.

“Are you now? Without me?” He feigns betrayal, pain entwined in his voice, but you knew that he was being smug, trying to make you feel guilty for something that wasn’t really your fault.

“You’re never- ungh- home anymore, Katsuki.” You bite back at him, a choked moan slipping between, though you’re really lashing out to hide the hurt of that truth.

“I know. I’m sorry,” He acknowledges quietly. “Can I come home and make it up to you?”

“R-Right now?” Why is he asking for permission?

“Yes, now. It’s a little slow over here.” He talks casually to you as if you don’t have your fingers stuffed into your pussy.

“Please.” You mumble, not really focused on the conversation anymore, attention instead brought to what you were doing between your legs.

“Please, what?” He goads. Real cheeky.

“Please come home and- oh- touch me.” They slip deeper into you, hitting a sweet spot, and you have half the mind to think that maybe you should grab a toy to really punish him.

“Gonna do more than just touch ya, sweetheart.” His voice lowers an octave while he speaks.

“Tell me.” You puff.

“You like hearing me say it?” The undertone of tease in his voice is unmistakeable. So is the sound of his car engine starting up.

“You know I do.” You answer. He’s got you grinning stupidly up at the ceiling, thrilled and giddy that he’s really coming home just for you.

“Should punish you for havin’ fun without me,” You almost whine aloud, but it’s caught in your throat, “Not gonna, though. ‘S my fault you had to,” You faintly hear his blinker ticking, “Wanna sit you on my face and use my tongue on you. Put my fingers in your pussy to stretch you out a bit and hit that spot I know you like, the one that gets you shaking,” You roll your eyes. You know him like a book, “Put my cock in you as deep as it can fuckin’ reach,” He groans, and you picture him grabbing the bulge in his pants, “Fuck. ‘M hard just thinkin’ about you, sweetness.”

“Gonna play with yourself?” You ask almost too eagerly, loving how loose his lips get when he touches himself.

Over the line you hear him chuckle, “No. I have patience, unlike some people. Wanna save this all for you,” Indistinct honking can be heard over the line, “And how would it look if a Pro like me was caught jerking off while driving?”

“It would look like he loves his fiancé so much that he’s willing to break the law he’s supposed to enforce.” You’ve nearly stopped touching yourself at this point, to focused on teasing him to do anything but rub mindless circles onto your clit.

“‘M good to you in other ways, baby.”

“You’re not.” You say, smile bubbling under the surface of your lips.

“Oh, yeah? Mind telling me what makes me such a bad fiancé?” You hear the grin in his voice while he says it. If you close your eyes, you can imagine what he must look like right now. Driving with one hand, the other palming the hard bulge filling his pants. Smiling in the way he only lets you see and no one else. Perfect and precious Katsuki.

“If you were a good one your cock would be in me already. Wouldn’t have to take care of anything myself.” You know it’s not his fault that he’s not here. But that doesn’t mean you can’t still give him a hard time. He spoils you, and he knows it.

“I’ll make sure I’m home at your every whim from now on.” He jokes. There’s a pause, and you can feel a palpable shift back into your arousal, reminding you why you were on the phone in the first place, “What were you thinkin’ about?”

“When what?” You ask airily, not exactly done taunting him.

He takes it in stride, “When you were fingering yourself without me there to watch.”

“Oh, then,” You say, and you catch his huff of laughter through the line, “Didn’t have to think. Was watching something before you rudely interrupted.”

“Mm, that right? You gonna tell me what?” He pokes, though he’s sure that he already knows your answer.

“Our video.” You admit, biting your bottom lip in expectation after you say it.

“Yeah? You like seeing yourself get fucked?” He snickers, “Favorite part about that video is when you start creamin’ on me. Makes me cum every time,” You hear the sound of the gearshift clicking into place, “‘M home.”

“Get your ass in this bed before I die.”

“Dramatic much?”

You say nothing else and wait for him to come discover you, naked in your shared bed. When he opens the door, your eyes flick over him in unadulterated lust.

He has his phone pressed to his ear, and yours is still on speaker. It echoes through the room when he says, “More perfect than I could ever fuckin’ imagine.”

You giggle and tap the end call button, and watch as he already starts unbuttoning his shirt, not even finishing the job before he starts crawling onto the bed with you. Approaching you like a predator, prey laid out sweetly beneath him. His fingers waste no time trailing up your thigh, not stopping until he can cup your sex with one big hand.

“Can’t wait to make you my wife and have this pussy for all of fuckin’ eternity,” He murmurs, leaning down to kiss on the soft and heated skin of your neck, “You wanna be mine forever?”

“Already am.” You whisper to him.

I NEED A FULL FIC PLEAAASEE

More than undressing you himself, Bakugou loves watching you get undressed on your own, not having the patience to wait for him to do it.

One second your mouth is pressed against his in a sloppy, desperate kiss, and the next, you’re hovering above him. There’s a hand on his chest to keep him in place while you peel off your shirt, as if you’ll die without his hands on your bare skin that instant, but he’s not going anywhere.

Not with a view like that.

I’m sorry I’ve been in this domestic mood today, this is my last one I promise 😭

Wearing Katsuki’s cologne because you wanna smell like him 👀 whenever I go out by myself or even to the gym, I’ll spritz some of my husband’s cologne on and go about my day. (1) it smells amaaazing (2) keeps me not missing him throughout the day (3) people know I have a mans, stay away from me pls 🙅🏻‍♀️

Thanks for the ask, bubs 🖤🖤🖤

Mmmmm I love sniffable men. I always hesitate to give him a specific scent in my writing because I want everyone to imagine whatever their favorite is. BUT Katsuki smells amazing…with a scent that sometimes leaves you stumbling after him.

However…

He hates when you smell like him. Goes fucking feral about it because he’s actually obsessed with the way you smell.

Pitches a full on fit if you had the audacity to spritz his cologne, or use his deodorant, or his body wash.

He knows you love his scent, so he threatens to switch all his shit to unscented to keep your fuckin’ thief hands off his shit.

When that’s all settled and you smell like you again…He’s happier nuzzling against that sweet spot on your neck he loves so much. He’s giving tighter hugs. He’s thanking you for caving and although you whined A LOT…you weren’t a complete brat about it. How could you be when he’s acting so grateful that his olfactory world is back in order?

But the thing is…

When he goes out of town for the first time after his won argument…he sleeps at your place the night before his trip. He’s organized as fuck, so his shits all packed, his keys have been given to Kirishima and Todoroki for emergencies and pet sitting. You already have a key, already plan on taking care of everything, but he still asks his friends instead, claiming it’s because “the idiots owe him”.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to set a precedent of making you feel used every time he leaves. At least that’s what he tells himself. He’s starting to realize you would never feel that way, but it still gnaws at the stubbornly independent nature he’s never been able to curb entirely.

The morning he leaves, he doesn’t wake you. His flight is early and although you tried to make him promise to shake you awake if he had to…you knew he wouldn’t. His movements were nearly silent, his steps light, the touch of his lips so soft that there was zero chance it would pull you from sleep.

So, you woke up to a colder bed than you preferred. You groaned curses into your pillow, wishing you’d been born with an affinity for the a.m. because fuck that would’ve been useful.

When you finally make your way to the bathroom to wash the annoyance from your features, you’re surprised to see a basket you don’t recognize. A stupid grin covers your face as you look through the stash of miniature toiletries he’s left behind for you…the cologne he doesn’t wear often, his deodorant, his lotion, his body wash, his shampoo, his conditioner, his face wash, his sunscreen, his toothpaste, and even his favorite cinnamon gum.

Later you find the card buried beneath them…

Enjoy, you fuckin’ brat.

🖤K

Make sure you smell like you when I get back home.

Showering with Katsuki

Masterlist

Tags: Sfw, suggestive, fem!reader, drabble, naked people of course, and mention of his d/ck lol, domestic tings

“Oi move over.”

His presence doesn’t discomfort you, but you give him a playful look of indignation anyways. “Get your own shower.”

“Shut up.” As he steps in he gives you a quick peck, then brings his arms around himself waiting for you to share the water. “It’s cold.”

Ever the dramatic, you cave to his displays and move over. Only slightly, so he still has to press up against you. He doesn’t mind of course, gladly pushing himself so your bodies meet.

He lets out a content hiss when he starts to heat up and audibly moaning when he his shoulders relax.

“Alright drama queen, we still have places to be.” You break him out his daze with a tap to his chest. Which he responds with his own tap, and grope, and massage.

“Okay okay, seriously, we have to be out by ten.” You laugh, grabbing his wrist to physically stop the ever so lascivious bastard.

“I know that woman.” He splashes you with the water. When is he ever late. “Pass?” He nods to the body wash.

He lathers it onto his body, scrubbing harshly as he always does. You frown for a moment and he rolls his eyes in compliance, slowing down to not upset the skin.

Katsuki expects it’s as hard for you to keep your mind pure as it is for him. Even after all this time, having seen everything of one another, he’ll never get used to the sight.

You’ll never either and he loves to exploit that. Making a slight show of the way he brushes between his thighs, he soaps himself languidly. You glare at him, trying not to smile.

“Want me to do your hair?” Ignoring his antics, you squirt the shampoo into your hands. You raise them to him, already knowing his answer.

As anticipated he ducks down a little, letting your fingers sink into the blond mess. Although he’d never admit it, nothing in the world could ever beat the feeling of your fingers in his hair. How you massage gently and make sure that the shampoo doesn’t drip.

He even moans when you get to the back of his neck, scratching slightly as you do. If anything he should be glaring at you. You must know how much that riles him up. Eventually you pull away, much to his discontent and grab a bottle of conditioner.

“Haven’t done mine yet either.” Instinctively he presents a hand, letting you dollop it on. Then you do the same for yourself.

He lets his head drop once again, so it’s easier for you to reach, then lifts his own hands to sift through your hair.

For all your rushing, you end up taking time to massage each other. Even as the water starts to run cold and your fingers begin to prune, it’s hard to let go.

But an alarm rings and the two of you stop with a groan.

Taking the shower head off it’s stand, he quickly makes work in washing you both over. Of course, like the annoying boyfriend he is, he sprays you directly in the face a few times, finding enjoyment in how you sputter like a kitten falling into milk. And of course like the annoying girlfriend you are, when you step out, you whip him with the towel, hollering each time. He shudders at the remembrance of his days in the UA locker rooms.

There’s only one towel in the little bathroom of your flat, unlike his where there’s shelves of them stacked neatly. It’ll be all yours soon anyways, but for now, the towel in your hand? Is his.

“Stop it!” You squeal as he reaches out to grab it. You somehow avoid him, clutching the fabric behind you. “Get your own!”

“You’re literally about to wear my hoodie.” He scoffs, pointing at where your clothes hang. “Give me it.”

There’s a back and forth of growls and giggles but the two of you finally settle on sharing. First comes the hair. After Katsuki’s done with his, he shoves it over you. When you go to dry yourself, he’s already ruffling it. If you weren’t shrouded in sudden darkness, you’d see the impish grin plastered on his face. He’s so very annoying. Then, he wipes himself down, doing the same of you, even when you protest.

Katsuki hadn’t actually brought clothes with him, so he fastens the towel around his waist. He leans against the wall, while watching you moisturise and dress. It’s not meant to be sensual, but he finds that he has to will himself down.

Through his own growing haze, he notices the flicker of your eyes, looking at him every few seconds.

The sight of him. Dripping, his hair hangs heavy over his eyes. There’s a flush under his skin, from the shower and his fluster. And the small towel around his waist hardly does anything to cover him. Even though you’d just seen him bare, somehow he was still so tantalising. Like the attempt at modesty made him all the more attractive.

Katsuki already knows what you’re about to suggest, he can see it as you approach him for a kiss.

“Nah.” He chuckles lightly, swerving to let your kiss to land on his cheek. “We’re gonna be late.”

Sorry for the repost but I am not showing up in the tags at all, I even checked through another account and am so so confused 😭 am I shadow banned?? Is that even a thing here?? And if so, WHY?!?! Like Idm the engagement I just wanna be in da tags!! I think it’s sorted now doe!

Also Idk if the kitten metaphor made sense, I was thinking about those pictures of cats that had fallen face first into their food and was laughing lol

i need more.

hey sweetheart! could I ask for Greek god!au with body worship, corruption and orgasm denial with hades!top!bakugo and persephone!reader being an absolute killer duo not only in the eyes of others but also in the bedroom? thank you xoxoxo

uuuh....ion even know 🙈😳 don’t look @ me.

(ft. hades!kats, body worship, corruption, f!reader, daddy!kink, orgasm denial)

“I said fuck me.”

Katsuki just rolls his eyes at that and you buck against his fingers, so frustrated that he’s so insistent on opening you up when he promised that he’d fuck you the moment you said you were ready.

“You’re not ready for my cock, Pretty,” he reasons and you whine, practically rolling around in the sheets in exasperation at this point. “Just a little longer.”

“That’s what you said five minutes ago!” You huff, glaring him in the eyes. Katsuki growls.

“You want Daddy to make you feel good don’t you?”

“Yeah, you promised, but y—“ you’re interrupted by the curl of his fingers and it has your thighs tensing, knees rocketing to your abdomen in surprise. You blink up at the ceiling of your shared chamber.

“What was that?” You demand, propping yourself up on your forearms. Katsuki snorts, raising an eyebrow.

“Feels good?”

You whimper in confirmation, nestling into the silk sheets. Your body jolts as Katsuki’s digits hit the right spot and his free hand lifts to pinch at your nipple, and he finally answers your question.

“It’s called your g-spot, baby,” he says, chuckling when you tense again. “But only I can reach it—only Daddy can make you feel this good, yeah?”

You nod in agreement, hips bucking against his palm, and Katsuki inserts another finger. You shudder.

“F-Full, Daddy,” you whimper, and Katsuki hums, crowding you against the bed to give you a peck on the lips.

“Yeah? ‘S it too much, pretty baby?” He asks and you shake your head. Katsuki coos, running his hand over your chest in favor of tweaking your nipple again. “Gods, you’re so fuckin’ pretty. So pretty and strong...such a perfect wife for me, yeah?”

“Y-Yeah, all yours,” you say, and gasp as you feel something building behind your navel. Your legs kick and your chest shudders in confusion. “Help Daddy, I—s-something’s coming—“

“You gonna cum, baby?” He asks and you shrug, because you don’t know what that is. Katsuki clicks his tongue and his fingers stop, and you whine, hips bucking for any kind of stimulation.

“You can’t cum yet, sweetheart. You want to cum on my cock, don’t you? Wanna cum with daddy?”

You gasp with a nod and watch as Katsuki finally pulls his pants down. Yes. That’s what you want. To cum with Daddy.

step inside the kissing booth with katsuki bakugou! (ends march 20th!)

a/n: okay so one thing everyone knows about me is that Tangled is my ALL time favourite movie. like it’s number one, and the boat scene has me crying every single time but i just watched the little mermaid and that boat scene had me giggling like a five year old again so i think i’ve got a thing for romantic boat rides idk. this just popped into my head and it’s v unedited cause my computer is fucked and i’m lazy and i’ll wrote it properly one day but for now please enjoy some bakugou fluff

okay so very early on into your relationship with Katsuki you have a marathon of all your favourite movies (mostly disney, studio ghibli, the occasional super hero/action movie thrown in) but it’s your reaction to the boat scene from Tangled that is imprinted on Bakugou’s brain. The way you clutched at his arm and mouthed along to all the words, smile wide as Eugene and Rapunzel leaned in for the kiss. Everything about you being completely absorbed was beyond adorable and that’s when the idea popped into Katsuki’s head.

Two and half years into the relationship is when he pops the question. Setting up a boat complete with flowers and lanterns (he even calls in a favour with the local council to recreate the endless amount of lanterns in the sky) anyway, there he is once again staring at you so full of love that he almost just blurts out the question.

“hey, so remember when I told you about wanting to be number one hero?” his voice is thick as he swallows the lump that forms in the back of his throat.

you turn your attention from the sky full of lanterns. “Is that why were out here? Did you get the spot?” you bounce your knees excitedly.

“well, no but… remember how it was my dream?” Katsuki can feel his cheeks blushing.

your eyes narrow and he can practically see the wheels turning in your head as you connect the dots.

“no, you’re not- Bakugou, I” you shake your head as you finally register what is happening. “you’re not going to do this and make a joke, ‘Suki that’s mean”

“can you shut up and let me talk please?” the words are soft as he reaches into his jacket pocket.

your eyes follow his hand, tears starting to roll down your cheeks.

“I had a dream which I honestly thought i’d never reach and i was always second guessing everything each time i was beat out and you know how upset i get over it but i don’t care about that anymore” fingers grip the small box. “I don’t care about it because I have a new dream. You”

you sniffle and grab onto Katsuki’s free hand. “ ‘Suki…”

He shakes his head, knowing if he deviated from his planned script he would burst into tears. “My new dreams is to be with you and live with you and love you until we’re old and have a million grandkids. I don’t care about anything else, you’re it and I- fuck, this is so hard” his voice breaks as tears start to fall. “I love you so much and I never want to be without you so please, marry me.”

Ok but now that pda post has me thinking about trying to deny Bakugo a kiss, doesn’t matter if it’s public or private, and he’s just grabbing your face and trying so hard to give you a kiss and you’re giggling and like sure it’s cute but he’s getting all 😡😤 and grumpy like 😡😡 giv me a damn kiss woman and it’s just so cute ugh 😪✋🏼

(pda post)

GODDDDDDD im really glad you’re bringing this up bc I felt SO big brain when I first thought about it tbh… 

Like he really just does not want to admit that he’s a sucker for kisses🥺

i had a bit more to say but tbh i forgot it all..... and tho this didn’t turn out as sweet as i imagined it would, hope u enjoy nonetheless!! 

-

Most days when Bakugo is leaving for work, you trail down the hall in your socks after him, standing on your tip toes to press a kiss to his lips before he goes.

Today, you do not. 

Maybe it’s because you want to see what would happen if you didn’t… and maybe it’s because you’re sick of giving him kisses he sometimes makes a game out of refusing. Not always, but every so often, he’ll leave you standing on your tiptoes for seconds, smirking down at the way you raise your eyebrows and wait (beg) for him to meet you halfway.

So today you won’t, either.

“I’m leaving,” Bakugo’s gruff voice reverberates through the halls, echoing to where you stand in the kitchen as he pulls on his shoes by the front door.

Holding back a smirk, you don’t move, continuing to fuss with your coffee as you nonchalantly call back.

“See you.”

You allow the silence to reverberate through the house as you face the espresso machine, waiting patiently for his reaction… though it’s not long before Bakugo is sticking his head through the doorway, eyes pointedly narrowed as he glares at you sourly and says your name in question. 

“I said, I’m leaving.” 

You do your best to bite back a smile, the rather confused and disgruntled expression on his face almost enough to make you laugh, give up and run into his arms. 

Almost.  

“I heard you, babe,” you respond, peeking over your shoulder coyly to gauge his reaction.

Eyes wide and lips flat in question, Bakugo takes step forward, entering the kitchen as he tries again to find the right words to say. 

“Did you forget something, dumbass?”

Though his voice is still rough, at the same time, it’s also rather quiet, reminding you of the calm before a storm, as he so often is.

“I don’t think so,” you raise your eyebrows, feigning confusion as you look around the room for something you know doesn’t exist. “Did I?” 

One side of Bakugo’s lips curls downward into a pout, and he pauses to continue staring at you blankly with twitching brows. When you don’t say anything, he closes his eyes, forehead creasing as he sighs.

“Yes,” he huffs, voice heavy on his tongue, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides, “you did.” 

Bakugo stomps to you, form large and imposing. You try to take a step backward, but before you’re able to turn and make an escape, a fist is grabbing at the bottom of your shirt and the laugh bubbles out before you can stop it. 

Instantly, your cheeks warm at his touch as he drags you to his chest, spinning you around to face him.

Looking at him up close, Bakugo’s tanned cheeks flushed as he blinks at you, you coo. 

“What did I forget?” 

Eyes focused and warm, as though he didn’t just have a mini tantrum to get this far, he only has to dip forward the slightest bit before you’re pushing yourself onto your tiptoes, his hand still wrapped in your shirt. 

-

You didn’t run to kiss him goodbye again. 

Waved him off from inside the kitchen with that slick, little smile of yours, refusing to both move or acknowledge the sound of his footsteps down the hall. 

Normally, Bakugo would play along. Stand in the foyer long enough for you to start calling his name in the silence… and then, when you’d stick your head through the doorway to check on him, he’d grab you by the nape of your neck to pull you in for a wet kiss goodbye. 

Today, however, already soured from the slight ache of his back and the early shift he was given, he didn’t feel like it. 

So instead of waiting for you to kiss him goodbye as he normally would, playful or not, when he didn’t hear your soft footsteps behind him, he had simply decided to leave the house, thinking maybe that’d show you as he laced up his boots and kicked the door shut. 

It did feel slightly wrong, leaving you hanging, but a part of him was always a little frustrated when you made him work for his morning kiss… so what difference would missing one make? 

Though, when he thinks about, it’s not like you don’t always give him one in the end, smoothing down his shirt when you pull back and blessing his eyes with that pretty smile of yours that he loves so much…  

It’s also not like he’s ever expressed this to you, either... always usually willing to wait or play your little games when you’re bold enough to try them. 

Bakugo makes it halfway down the street before his footsteps begin to slow, hating the way his heart sinks the farther away he gets. Part of him, though he’s not sure which part, knows that this is wrong… that ignoring you only to pacify his stubborn attitude will only hurt the both of you in the end.  

Finally coming to a halt, he curses, thinking about the fact that refusing to kiss you goodbye means breaking your little ritual.

He groans, turning on his heels so as to return to your apartment, deep down knowing that the day will only get worse if he doesn’t go back for his kiss. 

However, he barely makes it three steps towards your building before he spots you shooting out of the front door, a worried look etched on your face as you scan the streets for his form. 

“Katsuki!” you call, immediately running to him when you spot him down the road, one of his sweatshirts haphazardly pulled over your head, your feet in mismatched slippers. 

Bakugo’s eyes widen, and he just barely manages to jog to meet you before he’s opening his arms and you’re jumping into them. Clinging to his shoulders, you pull him down by the collar of his shirt to your lips, pressing them feverishly against your own as you heave. 

“You left…” you breathe, pulling back to cup his jaw and run your thumbs over his cheeks, brows raised in sweet question. “You left without a kiss.” 

Bakugo grumbles, lost in your eyes as he wraps one arm around your waist and rubs the back of his neck with the other. His cheeks tint a slight pink, so instead of answering, he dips his head down for another kiss you happily lean up to give him. 

“Then kiss me, idiot.” 

mdni. college au. first installment of boyfriend!bakugou “a like-like”

“So,” You breathe. “Does this mean you like me?”

The difference in temperature is stark as he lifts himself off of you.

You’re still pretty when you’re sweaty, you’ve always been. When you’re heaving out strained breaths across the field, when the afternoon sun shines on your exposed shoulders.

- When you’re underneath him.

The only difference now is that those purple colored blemishes on your skin aren’t from his fingers or his explosions. And the taste of you is still sweet on his tongue. - He looks down at you and you’re everything he could’ve imagined, sprawled out like a painting; all his.

Katsuki makes an incredulous face from where he’s slotted between your legs. “W-What…? Do you not see what we’re doing right now?”

“Yeah but,” You pout. His balls ache. “What if this is just some friends with benefits situation and this is like some one off thing?”

“Do you want this to be some one off thing?”

You shake your head. “No...”

He’s angling his hips back when you speak up again, but the way you’re starting to clench down on him nearly makes him lightheaded. “Do you like-like me?”

You and Mina have been hanging out too much. Oh god, he’s gonna go soft if he keeps thinking like that.

“____- Angel,” He huffs. “I like you so much that it fuckin’ hurts sometimes. You think I’d be this deep in yer guts if I didn’t?”

He shudders when you tighten up. “Ask me to be your girlfriend.”

“I think that fuckin’ goes without saying.”

Your fingers are feather light when you reach for him. Silk, cotton, and every other fucking soft thing he can think of when you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in. He fits into you like a key, fills in all your empty spaces and molds himself to you like it was the only thing he was made for. He wants to close his eyes and stay this way forever, melt into you and cover you like a veil. - And when you starts to speak, airy and breathless, nuzzling into him like you feels the same; he sure there isn’t a feeling around that’s any better than this.

Until your words register to him. “I wanna hear you say it, Katsuki. Wanna hear it in your voice like I’ve always wanted.”

He’s in heaven.

You shiver as he skims his nose down the curve of your neck, following the trail up with slow tempered kisses.

He’s sin as he hums against your skin. “Let me be your boyfriend and I’ll fuck you till you cry.”

suggestive. college au boyfriend!bakugou. installment II “poor timing”

He’s barely awake when he picks up his phone from where it’s charging near the bed, blearily sliding in one of his amplifiers as he presses it to the side of his head.

“Th’fuck are you callin’ me at 2am for?”

Kirishima pauses from his side of the line, curious male voices leaking into the speaker that irritate in their familiarity. “Are you just waking up?”

“What the fuck else would I be doing?”

“That’s what I’m wondering too.” He plops himself on the large bean bag sitting in the middle of his roommates floor, after knocking on his door for what felt like hours. Kaminari starfishes against his comforter, and he has to snap a few times to stop Sero from going through his friend’s stuff.

“Dude, where are you?” He asks. “Your truck’s not in the parking lot. Are you at a hotel?”

Bakugou stays silent for a long moment, fleeting as it is, it's a little disconcerting, and the chat runs empty as the sound of a running fan hisses through the static.

He sighs, brief movement stirs sleepily under his bicep and he figures it’s best to end this conversation as quickly as possible. “I’m with ____.”

“You’re-“ Kirishima stammers a little. “Can you say that again?”

“I’m at _____’s apartment.” Bakugou repeats himself - he’s obviously trying to be quiet.

“No fucking way! Dude?!” Kaminari chimes in from somewhere in the room, because of course he’s on speaker. “Like is she right next to you?”

“Can you be any fuckin’ louder?!” Bakugou whisper-yells.

“She totally is, isn’t she?” Sero chimes in. “Did you two fuck?”

Kirishima grimaces up at him from where he’s sitting. “Don’t be crude.” Though, he hesitates a moment before speaking a little closer to the speaker. “Wait, did you?”

Bakugou kisses his teeth. “What the hell was so fuckin’ important that you had to call me at two in the morning anyway?”

“Well, those of us who weren’t out getting some wanted to know if you wanted to play DnD. Since it’s the weekend and all.” Sero says.

“But I guess now you’re too good for the loser club, now that you’re some bigshot with a hot girlfriend.” Kaminari pouts.

Bakugou audibly scoffs. “I was never a part of the loser club to begin with.”

“Says the guy who’s gonna make us look for another DM in the middle of a campaign.” Kirishima retorts. “Seriously, you couldn’t have picked a better night to fuck ____? With you two gone Jirou’s gonna wanna take over your post - and she always gives us the worst scenarios.”

“They’re not that bad.” Bakugou jumps a little when the hand around his waist slithers to wipe at her sleepy eyes, cursing hushedly before the men hear him quietly apologize away from the speaker.

His three friends blush as a familiar voice leaks softly into the receiver.

“What’re you doing…?”

“…Nothin’, angel. Go back to sleep.”

The three squeal in unison.

Bakugou kisses his teeth again, whispering angrily into the speaker. “Shut the fuck up. And don’t call me this late, again!”

Click!

I KNOW I TELL YOU GUYS TO READ A LOT OF STUFF BUT PLEAAAAASERE THIS IS SO HOT

mdni.

thinking about roommate bakugou who is so tired of hearing you whining in the room just next to his, so sick of the buzzing of what he knows is your favourite wand & how it just doesn’t satisfy you enough because you’re trying for so long to cum.

he can hear the bed shift when you try a new position to hurry things along, can hear you curse when it’s just not doing it for you. if he wasn’t so hyper-focused on you, he might’ve missed the way you’re moaning for something bigger over the noise of his wet cock in his hand whilst he aggressively strokes himself.

it’s like that most nights, him cumming hard on himself to the sound of when you finally hit your high and you’re cumming, loud. he’s pretty certain that you know he can hear you, but you don’t seem to care when he hears you finally relax, then padding over to your bathroom to clean yourself up.

but tonight is different, the familiar hum of your vibrator has been on for a while, much longer than you usually take to reach your peak. he wonders if you’ve maybe just left it on, huffing at himself for realising how fucking creepy it is that he’s trying to read your movements through the fucking wall.

that is until he hears you sigh, long and loud and dripping with annoyance. he hears a faint “can’t even cum,” along with a sentence that’s much quieter and harder for him to hear but he’s not really focusing anymore. he’s focused on the fact you can’t cum anymore from your toys, making your little clit all numb to the vibrations and ruining your own orgasm.

doesn’t even stop himself from getting up and out of bed, tugging up his sweatpants to his hips and making his way out of his room and straight to yours. doesn’t even knock either, just opens the door to hear you squeal and attempt to cover yourself up. but it’s too late, he saw the copious amount of slick coating your thighs and the wet patch on the towel you’ve laid out, never mind the impressive amount of toys you’ve got on your bed that have got clear signs of usage.

“katsuki!” you try to sound stern, but it wavers when you see the clear outline of his fat cock in his sweatpants and the wet patch forming where his tip must be. he’s smirking at you when you reach his eyes, making quick steps towards the edge of the bed to grab ahold of your ankle and yanking you down hard enough to twist the blankets off of your body.

he has you splayed out for him, your legs spread to expose your dripping wet slit to the cool air and he’s staring. unashamed with it too, he’s practically drooling over the state your pussy is in. you’re fucking soaked, and you still couldn’t cum? tsk.

“heard you whinin’ and sighing through the wall princess,” he starts, voice laced in thick arousal as he ruts his clothed cock against you to see the wet imprint you leave behind. “you need someone t’make you cum, hm?”

you should really say no, he is your roommate after all and if you let him fuck you then wouldn’t that blur some lines? make things complicated? but every time he rolls his hips forward, catching your swollen clit against the ridge of his cock, the worries melt out of your brain.

“please,” you pout a little, sounding extra needy because if he keeps doing that thing with his hips then you’re going to end up cumming and it’ll be all for nothing.

“please what? hm?” he bites his bottom lip when you whine, your hips jerking a little and he can see your stomach tense up when he ruts a little harder against you. “tell me what you want baby, and i’ll give it to ya.”

you abandon the embarrassment, opting to roll your hips a little in tandem with his and making him the one to moan at the pressure you’re applying. “wan’ you to fuck me, please, wanna cum on your cock.” it’s filthy, the words you say but the fire that sets alight in katsuki’s eyes when he meets your fucked out gaze with a wolfish grin.

“since you asked so nicely,” he grins and finally letting go of one of your thighs to pull and tug his sweatpants down to let his cock spring out and slap against his thigh because of how fucking big and heavy it is, you can’t stop yourself from staring at it with wide eyes, is it even going to fucking fit? seemingly catching the look in your eye, his hand wraps around the base of his cock as he gently glides it through your wetness, gathering it at his tip to tap it against your clit to watch you jolt.

“don’t worry baby, we’ll make it fit.” is all he says before he’s angling his hips down a little, enraged red head of his cock catching against your entrance before he’s rolling his hips forward fluidly with a low groan that matches your moan of ecstasy at being stretched out by his length.

he gives shallow thrusts until he’s buried deep inside of you, his hips flush against your own and your thighs twitching at his sides from where he’s holding them. he tucks your legs over his arms before effortlessly folding you in half, his face now just hovering over yours. his hips still giving slow but deep experimental rolls to feel the way your walls flutter and cling to him for dear life.

“so fuckin’ tight, keep squeezing me like that and ‘m not gonna last princess.” he tenses his jaw when you subconsciously squeeze him at his words, just the thought of making him cum enough to get you off.

“can’t help it, ‘s too big.” you mumble back, and he’s grinning again despite the strain in his body to stop himself from exploding inside of you. his lips brush against yours when he leans a little closer, exchanging soft pants before he stills deep inside of you.

you think he might actually be struggling to hold on but then he starts a pace that’s almost vicious, downright mean with how his balls slap against the curve of your ass and the rough trail of blonde hair just above his cock is rubbing against your clit harshly. you moan loud, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he shifts his body slightly and barrelling the head of his cock into the one spot that has your entire body going rigid.

“g’nna cum pretty girl? yeah? wanna feel you cum all over my cock,” he groans when your thighs start to twitch against his biceps and how you’re squeezing him somehow much tighter than earlier, he throws his weight around a little more to make sure he breaks past the strong grip you have on him. “cum for me, c’mon.”

and you do, throwing your head back and arching your back as little as you can in the mating press he has you in and you’re spasming wildly around his length as he continues to fuck you through your initial relief and throwing you right into your next one that’s almost painful from how quickly you approached it. “f-fuck, ‘ki, too much, ‘s too much!” you finally manage to get out after your entire body seized up in pure ecstasy.

“just a little more, ‘m so close,” he moans sinfully against your parted lips, his body drenched in sweat and all his muscles bunched tight before he’s losing sense of rhythm and throwing himself head first into what he might think is one of his best orgasms in a long time. he whines, actually whines, when his cock twitches and starts to release his hot white seed deep inside your walls with each thrust of his hips, fucking it impossibly deeper until he can’t anymore.

his body lowers itself over yours, still aware of how he could crush you beneath him as he lets your legs loose from the grip you had and you both groan at the wet feeling of his cum being forced out from you around his cock. he breathes in deep when his nose buries itself into your hair, letting himself relax as your fingers stroke gentle patterns up and down his sides. “i’ll clean up in a second, lemme just..” he doesn’t have to finish his sentence for you to know what he means.

you kiss against his collarbone, then his shoulder, basking in the after-sex smell and the thought that maybe this could turn out for the better.

anyway i wrote this instead of making myself lunch, hope you enjoyed 🥰

hello kitty band-aids

pairing: spider-man!iwaizumi x reader

words: 1.7k

summary: your friendly neighborhood spider-man needs your help to treat his wounds

genre: marvel au, fluff, sfw, humor

tw: wounds, blood

You still don’t know how exactly you got involved with him. One day he was your classmate, then you two were assigned to work together on a physics assignment, and the next thing you knew you were keeping Spider-Man's biggest secret, his identity.

Like every other girl in your school, you idolized him - the superhero, not Iwaizumi -. You acted like a fangirl whenever you saw him swinging around the streets or when he showed up on the news after saving people from a fire. Having someone to protect the city made you feel safe because you knew that if you ever needed help, Spider-Man would show up to save you, besides that, not knowing who he was gave him a mysterious and intriguing air. You found yourself awake at night dreaming of who your hero crush was and what he looked like, unbeknownst that he sat only a few desks away from you in class.

At first, you couldn’t comprehend how an eighteen-year-old teenager could be fighting bad guys in the streets when, logically, adults are stronger than him, but after Hajime pulled a truck with his web to save a kid inside it, all your doubts about his powers vanished.

And as much as people think superheroes are untouchable and invincible, even the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man has his bad days, which is why he is knocking on your window right now, trying to get you to let him in.

Iwaizumi can hear the loud music blasting inside the room and moves to the edge of the glass to see past the curtains. A soft smile that hurts his busted lips takes over his face as he sees you dancing in front of your bed with a microphone - also known as your hairbrush - in your hands. He chuckles while you jump in your place with your eyes closed, too emerged in the song to focus on anything else. Hajime could stay there for hours, watching how you act when no one else is around. However, the cut on his side is still bleeding and he needs to put some ice on his left wrist.

So he shifts to the side, behind the cloths covering the windows so you won’t be embarrassed that he was watching your concert, and knocks on the glass hard enough to be heard over the music.

Mere seconds later, you open the windows and let out a tiny gasp when you acknowledge the state he is in.

“Oh my God, Iwa, you look awful.”

“Thank you, you sure know how to flatter a man, Y/n.”

“Just get in already.”

You roll your eyes and tug on his wrist, immediately letting it go once a hiss escapes through his gritted teeth. Iwaizumi slips into your room, careful not to knock anything down as he does so. He plops on the floor and leans his back on your bed, his right-hand touches the side of his ribs, and he feels his fingers getting wet.

“Y/n, can you get the first aid kit, please?” He breathes out and rests his head back on the mattress.

Now that he is in a safe place, far from all the danger, the adrenaline in his veins disappears and he feels his body hurting all over. Maybe he should listen to you for once and go to a hospital to take care of all the injuries that most certainly left sequels behind, but why would he when the hospital doesn’t have the Hello Kitty’s band-aid’s you always put on his wounds?

“You know, I should start charging you, I had to buy three new kits during the past two months, my mom even asked if someone was beating me up at school because of all the ointment I’m using.”

Hajime can’t laugh because of the pain in his toráx, so he settles with a smirk instead. You take a mental picture of the sight. Why do men with busted lips and bloody cheeks smirking look so damn attractive? How is that even possible?

You quickly walk to the bathroom to hide your blushed cheeks, take the white box from the cabin and lock the door once you return to your room. There’s no one home besides you and Iwaizumi, but you rather not take any chances of your parents coming home early and finding someone with you.

When you look at Hajime, you wish you had locked yourself outside of the room. Spider-Man has the upper part of his uniform resting around his hips, his muscular torso exposed and his chest rising and falling quickly. You can swear your cheeks are melting from how hot they feel.

Your moment of thirst is cut short when you take notice of the cut on his rib, it’s not bleeding so much anymore due to the pressure Iwaizumi put on it, but it still looks bad.

“Iwa, what happened?”

You kneel beside him and pull everything out of the box so you can treat him.

“Five guys were breaking into a jewelry store, I went down to stop them, but I didn’t see a sixth guy coming closer. He had a knife, and the rest you know.”

“Don’t you have a sixth sense? How could you not see him coming.”

Iwaizumi takes a deep inhale while you drag a cloth wet with alcohol across his wound.

“I had my mind somewhere else.”

“What could you possibly be thinking of while fighting bad guys?”

“Doesn’t matter right now.” He turns his head to the other side, but not before you catch a glimpse of his reddened cheeks.

With the blood out of the way, you can see the injury more clearly. You wonder if it needs a couple of stitches or not, you’re just a high-schooler after all, you’re definitely not the one Hajime should be going to treat his wounds. But knowing the brunette, he is too stubborn to go to a hospital, so you’ll have to take it into your hands to fix him.

You try your best to stay focused on your task, but the hardened ridges of his muscles call out for you. Just a little glance. It won’t hurt. Yes, it will. We’re only inches away, he won’t even notice you looking at us.

You give in to temptation, and as you apply ointment to the cut you let your eyes shift to the center of his abs. So that is what he’s been hiding all this time. Seijoh’s uniform for sure doesn’t make Hajime justice. His six-pack stares back at you in all its handsome glory, his chest makes you want to lay on it, and his shoulders mock you into thinking of how they move when he’s lifting some weight. Oh, if only you could take a glance at his back to see if it is nearly as perfect as his front, it probably is, even the motherfucker's calves are hot.

Panic settles in when you feel something hot under your hand, only then do you realize your fingers are tracing the edges of his muscles — touching Iwaizumi, touching his abs. You look up to him to find olive eyes already staring at you, seeing through your soul.

You pull your hand back as if he was a walking disease and pretend you’re busy organizing the first-aid supplies while he coughs into his hand.

“The injury is fixed.” You say, clasping your hands together.

“Thanks.” He says, avoiding eye contact with you. “Could you put a band-aid on my cheek?”

You nod and reach out to the Hello Kitty stamped card box on your nightstand, always in sight for unexpected moments - like this one - when your hero comes over.

Hajime lays his head back again and you hover over him, face to face. With a gentle touch, you clean the cut with a cotton ball then place the pink band-aid on his skin. Getting out of your focus, you lock eyes with Iwaizumi, who watched you the whole time you treated his face. You gulp.

“My lip is busted.”

“I can see that.”

Silence.

“Will you treat it?”

“Yes.” You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and reach out to the kit, but he stops you before you grab it.

“Why don’t you kiss it better?”

Suddenly, the air seems denser inside your lungs.

“…What?”

Hajime slowly lifts his hand and cups your left cheek as if testing waters. His eyes watch yours for any signs of reluctance and he pulls you closer unhurriedly, to give you enough time to get away in case you change your mind.

Your lips hover over one another, not touching completely, yet you can feel the high point of his upper lip so close to the gap between yours that it almost feels like you’re kissing. But you’re not, and every hair of your body standing up in a goosebump urges for you to close the less than millimetric gap separating you two.

“Y/n! I brought you some manjū! It was fresh out of the oven.” Your mom shouts from the other side of the door, making you jump in your place.

“Shit.” You mumble under your breath.

Iwaizumi quickly gives you a peck and swiftly gets up from the floor while you push all the medical supplies under your bed.

“Y/n?! Are you okay in there?”

“Yeah, just a minute!” You yell, voice wavering from panic.

Hajime struggles with his uniform. Besides the rush, his ribs hurt- correction, his whole body hurts, and as much as he’s trying not to make any sounds, there’s only so much pain one can take. You quickly step in to help and glare at him to be silent.

In record time you dress him up and push him gently towards your window.

“Bye. Thanks.” He whispers rushily and kisses your cheek before swinging away.

“Y/n?!”

You fly across the room and open the door wide.

“Hi, mom.” You smile

“What were you doing?”

“Uh… push-ups!”

She looks at you with a mixture of confusion and disbelief.

“Okay…? Here’s your manjū, Sweetie.”

“Thanks a lot, mom. I’m gonna finish my push-ups now, bye.”

You close the door and collapse on your bed. The recent events were so comic you wanted to laugh. Instead, you sit up and start chewing on the bean-filled sweet, and only then you realize.

Spider-man kissed you.

reblogs and replies are more than appreciated! <3

taglist! @neliathebaddest @pelicanpizza @Awkwardaardvarkforever @humanbean-123 @dai-tsukki-desu @momoewn @julia-1901 @musecatcher

join here!

a/n: just a wee bit suggestive; about me really

"hajime! hey!" you don't even give him a chance to acknowledge you, "could you do me a favor?"

"sure, yeah." the answer is almost instinctual and also deceptively smooth from his mouth. his heart hammers at your sudden appearance. he had no idea you were in the library because had he, he would have spent less of his time studying the biomechanics of endurance performance and more time studying... you.

not that he needs to because of course he can ace an exam pertaining to you.

(he hopes this doesn't sound creepy. it's simply his natural predisposition, carrying a mental clipboard over the usual physical one, one made of whiteboard and notated in sharpie)

"will you tell me to get my shit together?"

he takes a moment. maybe two just to process. then he translates your question to his home tongue and then back to english once more. having been in the states for four years now, the statement is beginner's level at best but he feels like this is a test right now. three times two does equal six, but maybe he should put it in his calculator just to double check.

"be mean to me!" you double down with a firm nod, "i’ve been procrastinating on this essay all week and i need someone to tell me to get it together. i asked lena but she's my best friend so i'm like, i don't know, desensitized to her, you know? but if it's from you, then maybe i'll have the motivation to do it. you know what i mean?"

he only half-nods because he doesn't know, nor is he quite following.

"you're like the nicest guy in class. there's no way i can deny you!"

the composure he has is only because he's had to grow up with the most unpredictable idiots but holy shit. he's internally choking right now. dying really.

patiently, you wait. to steel his courage, he appraises you, runs his eyes down to your cupid’s bow where he’s memorized the angle, notates the smell of you that he’s found comfort in these past couple of years when you guys are trapped in those cubicles called study rooms, and now he memorizes the expression in your gaze.

you look at him like you need him, like he’s the one who holds the words you need to complete this essay.

“get your fucking shit together,” he says while pulling at the strap of your backpack. it’s boyish, it’s stupid, but despite his tone, he wants you to know he’s teasing. even if you did ask for it.

for some reason it’s you who stares back at him. and just for the sake of testing your theory, he pries even further, “are you going to be good and finally work on that essay?”

you nod, eyes wide with obedience and it makes him stir. to prevent himself from getting carried away, he spins you with your backpack and pushes you away from him, “okay then do it.”

you don’t look back. good thing because iwaizumi would have never been able to handle it. he exhales loudly into his palms once you’re out of sight, bending over to place his elbows on his knees.

the mental clipboard is back in his hands with future experiments being planned. you really can’t say no?

what would happen if he asked you out on a date? what about when he asks to kiss you? the thoughts fill his head, innocent and not.

10:37

Fluff, Bakugou x female reader

"The fuck you doin' over there?"

You lifted your head from your horde of pillows to see the blonde scowling at you. You rubbed at your eyes and noticed he was sitting at the other end of the sofa.

"Oh sorry, did you want one?" You pulled one of the largest from your pile and threw it at his face. He caught it, but his red eyes narrowed at you.

"No. I asked what're you doin' over there?"

"Umm...getting comfortable?" You raised an eyebrow at him and snuggled deeper inside of your blanket.

"Yea, I fuckin' know. Stop it."

"It's the common area, you can't tell me what-"

"Stop getting comfortable over there..." He looked back to his phone, but patted the pillow that was now leaned against his thigh. You rolled your eyes. He smiled when you huffed at him.

"Well, if you needed cuddles. You should've said so."

"I don't need any damn cuddles."

You paused your crawl towards him. Your legs were tucked beneath you and you were wearing your blanket like a cape.

"Oh? Then I'll be heading back to my pillows. Thank you very much." He pulled you off balance so you fell against his lap. His grip was firm against your waist.

"Didn't say I didn't want 'em."

You rolled over to look up at him. Your fingers tugged his shirt to pull him in for a kiss. And then...his head snapped towards the kitchen at the sound of laughter.

"Awwww, Bakubro never wants to cuddle me."

"I want cuddles from y/n!"

"Me too."

"Ugh Mineta, you perv. It's gross when you say it."

"Shut up! None of you get to fucking touch her." You giggled and pulled at his shirt again. This time he did lean in and brush his lips across yours. When he pulled back, he kept his eyes on you.

"She's mine."

My main blog is glitching until TUMBLR FIXES IT. For now I'll post new content on here.

You can still check out my masterlist

6:05

Fluff

"My question is for Dynamight. Umm are you-are you single?"

"Ohhhh, what an excellent question." The moderator cooed. You tried to not glare at her, but fuck...this was the same reporter that was always trying to squeeze up against Dynamight during interviews. Did they have to choose her for this fucking thing? She'd already basically thrown herself at him back stage.

"It's not. How would I have time for anything other than savin' you idiots?"

You heard a soft voice on the other side of him. Probably Deku telling him to be nicer.

"Oh my, well that doesn't sound like a taken man to me. And that is actually a fantastic segue to our first question for all of our heroes. 'What is your type?' Let's just go down the line, shall we?" She headed over to the other end of the platform.

"Umm...my type of what?" There was some mumbling off the microphones.

"Oh, I see. Umm, I suppose someone who is kind and likes cold soba and is...not afraid of fire?"

"Uh huh. Well, that is so you. Next! Although I'm sure we alllll know what the answers will be for these next two."

"Oh, well my type would have to be someone who works hard at everything they do and never gives up no matter what."

"So sweet. And you, Deku?"

"Well, my type is Uravity?" The audience laughed.

"Fair enough, you two are the only couple on our panel today."

"Now how about you, handsome?" Ughhh, did her voice have to throb like that?

"That's the best question you could come up with?? Embarrassing."

"But we're dying to know...aren't we, everyone?" The loudest shouts sounded from the splashes of orange in the crowd. He huffed before speaking into his mic.

"My type will be the fucking best because she's with the fucking best."

"I'm sure you could be more specific, Dynamight. Don't you think so?" The crowd roared. He crossed his arms and glared at them, but the screams only got louder. His fans really did love him just the way he was. You giggled and he shifted his gaze to you for a moment before glaring at the audience again.

"Fuckin' hell, you extras...she talks shit, kicks my ass when she can, and she's cute as hell. Happy?"

"Oh? Maybe you'll find her here tonight." She winked at him and you tried to remind yourself that you were a hero not a villain.

"Now, last we have-"

Fuck it. You yanked your mask down, grabbed Dynamight by the ridiculously low v-neck and pulled him in for a kiss. He responded instantly, working his gloved hand through your hair. He groaned and pushed his tongue into your mouth. The crowd lost it. You pushed him back just as quickly as you'd grabbed him and settled back into your seat. The moderator was blushing and finally seemed to have learned how to leave Dynamight alone. You gave the crowd a chance to quiet down. You pulled your mask up and your mic closer before speaking into it as sweetly as you could.

"I think it's time for a new question."

The moderator nodded and seemed happy enough to turn her attention back to Shoto. Katsuki covered your mic and leaned over to growl in your ear.

"Remind me. Who's idea was it to not go public?" You placed a hand on his forehead and nudged him away.

"Oh shut up, 'handsome'. She pissed me off." You crossed your arms and looked out at the crowd.

He chuckled and you felt your seat sliding towards him. He released the chair leg when you were close enough for him to drape an arm around your shoulders. You felt his breath on your skin.

"Cute as hell." He kissed your neck and left you blushing beneath your mask as he turned to answer the next question.

Masterlist

cw. masochism, blood, marks, smut (MDNI)

no because iwaizumi loves waking up and looking in the mirror to the markings that you made on his back. all red and swollen, they sting when he cleans them, but he's not ashamed of what you did last night.

he remembers the way your nails dig into his skin. they were perfectly manicured and he made sure to pay for you to get them done just for this. his hips bucking against yours when he feels the acrylics piercing his skin and drawing a bit of blood. he nearly cums then and there, filling up your sopping pussy even more as cum oozes out.

he loves it. loves it so much that when he goes out to the gym and he wears a muscle tee or no shirt at all, he isn't shameless to the stares he get. face contorted in complete concentration, no one really dares to approach him to comment about it because he's already intimidating as is.

and you usually try and apologize when you see what you did even though you damn well know he loves you marking him up. he always hushes your apologies, pulling you for another kiss as his hand grabs the fatty skin of your ass. he's ready to fuck again, rutting his hardening boner against you. "don't worry about it, doll."

𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 : 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭, 𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭, 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥, 𝐮𝐡𝐦 𝐲𝐞𝐚!

your lips brush against each other and you’re situated in his lap hands settling on his broad shoulders while his rests on the small of your back pressing you closer against him and his other holds your face, thumb caressing your temple. he pulls back to look at you, really look at you and take you in.

you’re panting, lips bruised and a little dazed he thinks you look cute. a smirk tugs at his lips, he breathlessly chuckles, the laugh rumbling throughout his chest “you still with me, baby?” he asks teasingly. eyes flickering up to look at you, nodding and saying something about more. his lips travel to the span of your jaw pressing soft but meaningful kisses to the skin. he’s invading your senses and if he’s being honest you’re invading his.

a soft moan of “katsuki” leaves your lips as his lips travel behind your ear and he kisses that spot that leaves you dizzy. “you’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, ya know?” he says. you squirm a bit in his hold his hair ticking your cheek “you think so?” you tease but also for that part of you yk? the part that sometimes needs reassurance. “i know so” he retorts quick to wash away your doubtful thoughts. his hand moves to rest on your hip giving it a squeeze as he nips at your ear “my pretty girl” he affirms.

and it’s your turn to look at him, eyes holding emotion much too intense to put into words, so he does what he can with this. holding you close, pressing your body against his, laying delicate kisses along your skin, allowing himself to let you hold his heart the same way you let him hold yours. washing away any doubt that comes to your mind about you, about him, about both of you together.

kissing on white sheets and the sound of frank ocean in the background leave you both feeling nothing but comfort in each other’s presence. and in this moment that you share together, a soon to be memory not only in your minds but also in your hearts, you’re certain, as certain as the sky is blue, that you love katsuki and katsuki loves you.

pairing: bakugou x reader

warnings: swearing, suggestive themes, implied smut? steamy make out session oops

—-—

bakugou katsuki is, to place it bluntly, a work of art.

others would tell you otherwise.

the hothead with the telltale spiky hair of blonde was rough around the edges, unbelievably loud, paired with a temper that not even todoroki’s ice could cool.

his words came without a filter, and he’d say and do as he pleased no matter how it affected those around him.

so no, he was more viewed of as an arrogant son of bitch who had been blessed with one hell of a powerful quirk.

and yet, those little sketches of arrogance and snappy statements made bakugou katsuki, well, him.

again, bakugou katsuki is a work of art.

a fucking piece of art.

blistered with ashes and smoke, marred perfectly with his ambition shown through scarred skin and calloused palms.

red, red eyes that burn and scorch just like the explosions that emit from those hands. a deadly glare that could almost make people drop dead from the intensity of it.

so red that it rivals the fierceness of the sun, sharpened by his scowling face and the feral grin he offers.

his voice demands attention. undivided attention as it should be; arrogant and gruff. stupidly attractive.

and this piece of art? he’s all yours.

he’s so rough, sweaty palms aching from the work of the day grabbing ahold of your waist hastily.

you can’t even think. he’s too much, all over you at once with his blazing touch.

some of his touches are demanding, some of his touches are tender, but each and every one leaves a mark on your skin that makes you feel alive.

desperation like this strikes katsuki on rare days, but when these rare days do come around, it’s oh so passionate.

he’s home from a long day of patrolling and kicking ass, but the only thing on his mind since this morning is you.

it’s sickening but rejuvenating—the way he craves you like his life depends on it.

his lips are placing sloppy kisses on the expanse of your neck, trailing up your jawline.

“suki,” you gasp, hands scrambling at his shoulders. he had caught you off guard—you had barely registered the front door opening before he snatched you up.

he’s got you against the kitchen counter, and the edge of it is digging into the small of your back uncomfortably, but you really can’t find it in yourself to care about that—not when katsuki continues adorning your skin with his teeth and tongue.

“katsu-” you try again breathlessly, hands now trailing up his neck that tangle your fingers in his hair.

your attempt to properly get his attention fails—he takes your action as a plea for a kiss and his lips messily meet yours.

“mmph-!” and you meet him halfway like you always do, returning the force as you feel him run his tongue along your teeth.

the need to breathe makes you break away, and before katsuki can latch his mouth on you again, you tug on his hair.

he groans in response but finally relents, leaning back for you to lock gazes with him at last. (it’s so intense; the desire swirling within his makes you shiver.)

“what?” he snaps gruffly, terribly out of breath like you are. he’s eyeing your lips greedily.

“what’s-” you struggle to form words. (he almost smirks at that, but he’s a bit annoyed that you made him stop in the first place.) “what’s gotten into you-? sumthin’ happen at work? not that m’complaining…”

he scoffs and rolls his eyes. “nothing happened, dumbass,” he grunts, holding you closer. his skin glistens with sweat and there’s blush accompanying it, “just missed ya.”

and before you can say anything else, he’s kissing you again like you’re gonna disappear.

you tug at his hair again, but it’s to make sure he doesn’t leave you this time. not that he would; he busies himself with making sure not an inch of your skin is missed with his inspection.

you can’t help but squeal when he effortlessly lifts you up to sit on the counter, pressing forward so that he’s not touching you for even a split second.

your legs instinctively come to wrap around his waist and his hands seem to be everywhere at once.

“missed you s’much,” he gasps against your skin, “i’ll take care of ya, yeah?”

you nod pleadingly, lost in the scorching heat only bakugou katsuki can make you feel.

and bakugou katsuki is a work of art.

especially like this—all messy and madly in love.

... give me the soft bakugo 👀

If this flops or gets me ostracized from the fandom you’re uninvited to my birthday party-

-

Bakugo could never stay awake during movies.

It was a problem for him, genuinely. The amount of times he’s fallen asleep, and grumbles in annoyance when you tell him the movie’s over is truly staggering. It’s not that he wants to miss the action, he’s just so exhausted from being… well. Bakugo, that when the end of the day comes, and you’ve got a hand buried in his hair and a blanket tossed over you both, he never stands a chance.

And it’s a ritual at this point, merely part of your daily routine. He comes home. He showers. He curls up against you, and before the movie’s rising action can start, he’s out cold.

And nine times out of ten, you’re more than willing to stay, scratching his scalp and watching Bakugo’s handsome face twitch and lax with each detail of dreams…

But today? The one out of ten? You’re fucking hungry.

You so wish you’d eaten before you decided to be his snuggle buddy for the next few hours, knowing he’d already had a bad enough day and you leaving to have a snack would only disturb him further, but if it wasn’t you slowly leaving the warmth of bed, it would be your growling stomach.

Okay. Slowly now. You pinch the arm that’s tossed over your waist and slowly lift it up, slipping from under the appendage and out to freedom.

Once out of his warm embrace, you quickly scurry to the kitchen for a sandwich- heavy enough to get through the night, but light enough where you can quickly eat it- and a quick look through of your phone so you can update your friends and family to be officially his for the night.

And it seems to all go well! He’s still knocked out, as you assumed he would be after such a long day, and you’re just about ready to bite when-

“…the hell in the fuck are you doing?”

The voice makes your eyes wander from the brightness of your phone screen, to the culprit himself, standing in the hallway with sweats low on his hips and a blanket wrapped around just the top half of his torso. He knuckles his tired eyes, his lips in a sleepy scowl, and god he looks so snuggly you want to bring him straight back to his warm bed and let him sleep off the day.

But your rumbling stomach would never allow that.

Stopping your staring, your teeth hover over the sandwich before coming down to a biteless close, and you look at him with a clear of your throat, “I’m… eating?”

“You left the bed.”

“Yeah, because you don’t like crumbs-“

“You left me in the bed.”

You blink at him in complete confusion, trying your hardest not to laugh in his face as he growls deep in his throat, “you left me alone in the bed, to make yourself a sandwich!”

“Well I sure as hell wasn’t going to wake you up,” you snort, watching as he struggles back a yawn to continue his ‘threatening’ look. “You were tired babe, I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“Well… well I didn’t like not knowing where you were,” he grumbles. “And when I pat the damned bed and it was empty, that was an even worse way to wake up.”

All an elaborate way of saying ‘I didn’t like that you left me and our cuddle time.’ You could’ve sworn he’d only be mad if you’d woken him up in the process of leaving, but that’s very clearly not the case. When a loving grin spreads over your face, you know he knows he’s been figured out, and he crosses his blanket-covered arms and avoids your gaze. “Awww, Katsuki-“

“Don’t even.”

“Did you want me to-“

“Fuck off.”

“Stay and snuggle?” His words of empty threats do nothing to deter you from finishing your sweet coo, which he scoffs at while you slowly pull out the chair next to you for him to sit in. “Baby, you know I’d never leave if I knew it would make you upset!”

“It didn’t make me up-fucking-set,” he growls, but he does let his long legs carry him to the chair next to you, plopping down sleepily while maroon eyes struggle to stay awake. “It’s the principle of the matter- you leave, you fuckin’ tell me where you’re going. End of discussion.”

You snort and shake your head at his words, finally taking a bite of your sandwich and thus, ending the conversation. Despite his efforts, he doesn’t look half as mad as he thinks he does, lips pouty and cheeks a titch flushed from your affectionate words and the last remnants of sleep being pulled from his soul.

“For what it’s worth,” you hum, slowly tugging his chair closer to yours, which he instantly rests his head on your shoulder when he’s close enough. “I always want to cuddle with you, too, stinky.”

“Quit it with your stupid pet names,” he grumbles. “I am a man, and I find it disgusting the way you are able to make my heart race.”

“Of course you do,” you agree with him to relax his protests, turning your head to kiss the fluffs of hair that adorn the crown of his head. “Let me finish eating, then we can go nap for real.”

He grunts, a pouting language for ‘fine,’ before he lets you eat in slight peace, just without the use of your right arm which is now being held hostage by his own two limbs.

“C’ I have a bite?” He mumbles, opening his mouth expectantly, as if already knowing you’d say yes. You chuckle and bring the sandwich to his lips, which he bites softly and chews slowly. “‘fank you.”

“You’re welcome, my love.”

“Gross.”

hot fuck holy fuck this is so hot

cw. tatted up!iwaizumi, panty stealing iwaizumi, riding, car sex, unprotected sex, creampie, guest staring daichi (mdni!)

firefighter!iwaizumi that’s tatted all over and so swole,,, he’s off duty and heading to the bar where he bumps into a sweet thing like you. you just came off your shift, working as a vet, and came in for a drink and some vibes. actually planning on leaving when you bumped into the hot firefighter, he manages to steal your time and spin you right back.

he tells you what you like to hear, whispering sweet nothings in your ear before he plants a sweet little kiss against the nape of your neck and says “let’s get out of here.”

Keep reading

Stuck in a constant dilemma between Bakugou with a vocal reader, covering your mouth and hissing "Nuh uh, not this time. I wanna see how long you can keep your pretty mouth shut"

VS

Bakugou with a usually quiet reader, blowing your back out and barking, "Yeah, that's it baby- louder. Lemme hear you fuckin' scream"

being lifeguard!katsuki’s girlfriend who always comes to hang out and sweep him off his feet at the end of his shift. getting stares from jealous onlookers as he leans over the railing after closing the tower for the night. they whisper if that’s really his girl or if you’re just hitting on him like the others. but when he smiles and laughs, tossing his head back to reveal a muscled neck, they know that it’s the former. 

and if they weren’t sure, they definitely know once he walks down from the tower and takes you by the waist, bending down to place a gentle kiss on your lips where everyone can see.

Commenting on how strong bakugou is all the time making his ego inflate 10 fold, but only when you say it. Like greeting him at the door after he finishes a workout and his muscles have a layer of sweat still making them glisten. And he’s talking to you except you’re completely zoned out staring at them. Once he notices what the hell you’re looking at he will tease you to no end,

“Ohhh I see, you like my arms, baby?” He says while flexing his biceps practically making you drool and he just laughs at you not even mad you weren’t listening.

Or he will ask you for massages on his back because that’s your favorite part of him. It’s just so strong and so sexy how could you not love it?

“So fuckin sore lately. You mind rubbin my back, pretty girl?”

“Yes!” you say a liiiitttle too quickly, moving to straddle his lower back sensually rubbing his exposed skin.

OR OR OMG when things are getting … heated between the two of you and you’re like making out on a wall or something, he will always pick you up so your hips are around his waist. Not only because he knows you love it when he shows his strength but it gives straight access to your pussy so he can slowly roll his hips into yours while continuing to kiss you.

“Jump baby. Fuck yeaa thats my good girl.”

sorry if that was a lot i’m a new anon

i choose 🫐 if it isn’t already taken

hi baby!! welcome here!!🥺 ofc you can be 🫐 anon!!

- nd you got me screaming without the s!!!!

i’m such a slut for his muscles and strength!!!🥺

Or when y’all are in the bedroom in the morning and Katsuki is going through the closet trying to choose what to wear with his back completely facing you, with each movement his muscles moves and he can feel your gaze burning his neck!! That’s when he slightly turn his head to the side, watching you from the corner of his eyes as he smirks at the way you were ogling at him shamelessly

And he’s such a asshole about it too!! A small grunt — almost sounding like a deep moan — escaped from his throat as he started to stretch, fully teasing you as he faked innocence, pretending that he didn’t caught you staring at his muscled that he proudly built over time, making your brain and heart melt once again as you closed your thighs for some sort of friction.

“tsukiii..” the way you whine for him was what made him 100% sure that he caught you on his trap. A devilish smirk grew on his face, before he turned to you and approached you with a condescending gaze.

“does my muscles turn you on, princess?” He chuckled, placing his thumb on your lower lip while his pointer finger curled under your chin, causing your full attention to be only on him and nothing else… you are such a good girl for him!!

You nodded at his words with a small whine, dumbly opening your mouth and letting him slide his thumb against your tongue before pressing on it. At this point you looked up at him with nothing but hearts in your eyes — making his dick throb painfully against his sweat !! He can’t take it anymore !!

“so good f’me, huh, pretty girl?” He spoke, now placing both of his hands right under your ass and picking you up to wrap your legs around his hips — causing you to press your covered core against his hard on, making you mewl for him again…

“c’mon, gimme a kiss, pretty”

oh that kiss turned into so much more!!

No but imagine it's your birthday and Katsu has went out of his way to make the day perfect for you, which includes cooking both dinner and a cake, only to have you on your bed while kneeling behind you, arm firm around your waist to keep you in place as he's sucking on your neck while knuckles deep inside you by the end of the night

CW/ TW. Explicit. Bratty!Reader, Fingering

AN. Ugh, this! Also, I apologize for any errors. I wrote this kinda late >.<

He's probably super sweet about it too: plans on letting you sleep in and bringing you breakfast in bed.

And you appreciate it, you really do. But literal weeks have gone by since you were last intimate—the images of Katsuki pressing you down against the sheets and calling you his good girl becoming fuzzy little figments.

You understand part of being a hero means long tiring days—in the office and on the field—and more often than not, he barely says hello before he's snoring into his pillow. 

Still, you can't help the small pout tugging at your lips when you wake up and find Katsuki's side of the bed cold. You look between the offending imprint left behind to the open bedroom door where the smell of breakfast wafts in from the hallway, on the verge of burrowing back into the blankets before your boyfriend pops in with a tray full of food. 

You continue to sulk even though the food smells good (of course it does), and as Katsuki's husky morning voice gives you goosebumps. 

"Happy birthday, baby." 

It doesn't take him very long to catch on to your sour mood, or the way your eyes not-so-subtly trace the defined naked lines of his abdomen.

You almost smirk triumphantly when his gaze drops down between slowly parting knees, until his face shifts into a look you know all too well. 

A squeak catches in your throat when he drags you down the bed by your ankle, gulping loudly at the smirk that splits across his lips—

"Such an ungrateful fucking brat," he growls into your skin, marking the spot on your thigh with his teeth just to hear your sweet moans.

"'M not," you sob into your pillow, fingernails digging into the soft sheets. 

"Coulda'," he bites again, this time closer to where your thigh met your slick folds, "fooled me." 

You shiver, clenching down hard around his fingers.

"Listen to how sloppy this pussy is." His voice drips with condescension while his fingers scissor in and out of you at a torturously slow pace. "You like it when I treat you like a needy little slut, huh?" 

All you can do is moan, thoughts reduced down to mere static from the way he's fucking you. 

"Better say thank you after I'm done because this is all you get."

Tagging. @ajaviary @barbiekatz @smexyair @chloee0x0 @levylovegood @dukina @sunaspillowprincess @bigsluttforitachi @toughbook @venussakura @pulchritxde @https-gassen @1-800-mocha @grim_gal @amortentiaxo @izukusfreckle @devynfayrer @m3l333 @cults-soundtrackthree @dazaisfavgf @tojidilfs @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @sinfulstarz @jeansbabycake @natkookiecat @quirkl3ss-simm3r @lumpywolf @heartsfromaliya @jordyn-degas @losercal @bakugous-princess @aiakira @katscki @iamanereid @katsu-shi @katsus-mistress @itachislut @toxic-g0re @niktwazny303 @kirislilwhorewife @hannas16 @animexholic @spilled-mi1k @talesfromthenerdside @thatone-gayweeb @dabidoki

𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇: 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎𝐔

ಌ genre: fluff

ಌ summary: how night routines with katsu would go <3

9:45pm

after a certian time katsuki turns both your phones off so you both can relax for the rest of the night. Without the media or news getting in the way of your night. If you had a long day Katsu will draw you a bath, using a scented bubble bath mixture to your surprise. If you ask him to join you, he'll agree without hesitation. Sitting behind you he'll hold you close to his chest, his chin resting on your shoulder. Rubbing his calloused hands up and down your sides before wrapping his arms around your torso, pressing occasional kisses to your neck.

sometimes sitting in silence is the best form of comfort for you both, if you fall asleep on him he'll press on last kiss to your cheek before heating up the water slightly. Then drifting off to sleep himself.

10:30pm

usually after a bath or shower, you 'll do your skincare routine. Sometimes if your too tired Katsuki will do it for you, like the sweetheart he is. Picking you up from under your thighs he'll set you on the counter, pressing a kiss to your nose before getting started. Grabbing the fluffy headband you bought not too long ago put it on you, pushing any hairs out of your face. Katsuki made sure he did every step with care, rubbing moisturizer and other products into your skin gently. Once finished he'll take the headband off before lifting you off the counter and carrying you towards the bed.

10:50-11:37pm

if your still not ready to sleep yet you'll both cuddle up under the covers telling the other about their day. Although since tsuki's sleepy voice is so soothing you end up falling asleep while he's going on about his day, once he sees you fell asleep he'll roll his eyes about to turn off the lamp light when he hears you mumble a, "Keep talkin.."

Smiling softly at you he'll turn off the light, settling back into bed pulling you close to his chest. "I'll tell ya more tomorrow sweets, get some sleep f'me." Pulling the cover over the both of you, he was about to go to sleep when he heard you whining. "Whats wrong-" "You didn't gib me my g'night kisses." He let out a chuckle rolling his eyes, "How could I forget." First kissing your forehead, your nose, both cheeks then your lips. "Better?'" You smiled happily, "Yeah, g'night katsu." You mumbled pecking him back softly, "G'night princess."