Their Omega

imagine long-term bf katsuki being hung up on what engagement ring to buy you. he’s gnawing at his cheeks, constantly sighing and running his fingers through his hair for a couple of months, trying to find a ring that’s good enough for you.

after patrol, he browses every reputable jewellery store in tokyo, searching for your engagement ring. he takes pictures of every one he thinks might suit you and sends them to eijiro.

shitty hair: idk about this one man. diamonds are nice but y/n gives more garnet or ruby vibes

explosive: the fuck you mean? i have to get her diamonds

shitty hair: nah bro, you should get something that suits her. not every girl wants diamonds.

explosive: stfu i know what she wants better than you do

shitty hair: 🤷‍♂️ just my opinion man

you noticed immediately that katsuki was coming home later than he usually does. you didn’t say anything at first because maybe something came up, and he did seem really exhausted.

but as weeks turn into months, you become suspicious. what is it that your boyfriend's doing after work that you can’t know about. he hasn’t changed how he treats you. if anything, he’s been even softer and sweeter with you lately.

you decide to confront him about it.

you sit at the kitchen table, waiting for him to come home. as 8pm fades into 10pm and drips into 12am, your anxiety ramps up. your palms are all sweaty and your heart beats erratically in your chest.

you’re on your feet as soon as the lock eventually clicks and the front door is forced open. you stalk up to a sleepy katsuki, who flings his duffel bag on the floor with a sigh.

when he turns around, you’re looking at him angrier than ever. there’s fire in your eyes as you stare up at him, your brows knitted together and jaw tight.

you spit out, “where have you been?” katsuki blinks slowly, too tired to register your words and respond. he moves to throw his arms around you, but you step back, dodging his embrace.

this time, you repeat yourself with more venom, “where have you been?” you sigh, “i’ve been waiting for you since eight.”

he grunts thickly, “why’d you stay up, babe?” you roll your eyes and slightly suck in your cheeks.

you say exasperatedly, “because i was worried about you. you’ve been coming home late from work for the last two months now.” you fold your arms beneath your chest as you scold him, “so where have you been?! seriously, like, where the fuck have you been wandering off to while i make you dinner and do your laundry?”

katsuki shakes his head, whispering, “baby, s’not like that.”

you catch his words and scoff, “so then, what is it like? i clearly don’t know so why don’t you tell me?”

his full lips draw into a hard line as he huffs, contemplating whether to tell you he’s been hunting for the perfect engagement ring for his perfect girl… and that he’s finally found one. it wasn’t easy, especially since he has just put up with yappertron 3000 chargebolt, skateboard freak elbows, and shitty hair for the past three hours while acquiring this ring.

he bites his tongue, mumbling, “look, i’ve just been busy, yea?”

you chuckle derisively, “you’ve been busy? right, okay.” you turn around and begin walking away from him when he catches your elbow. his grip is firm but considerate.

he tugs you back, making you stumble into his chest. you try to shove him away, but he doesn’t even budge as he draws you into his arms, wrapping you up tightly.

you shout, “just fuck off, katsuki!”

wincing, he rests his chin on the top of your head and murmurs, “no more late nights, baby, i promise. at least not for a while.” his body is so warm against yours, and his musk is so strong. you give up your assault on his concealed but delicious muscles and still in his grasp.

you grumble, “it’s not about the late nights, katsuki. it’s about you keeping things from me.” he kisses the top of your head and rubs circles on your back with his calloused palms.

he mutters into your hair, “i’ll tell you soon, okay?” you shake your head before tilting it back, returning his soft gaze with your harsher one.

you murmur, “so you’re not cheating on me? or are you cheating on me but intend to come clean?” your boyfriend’s mouth falls open as he stares at you, his blond brows raised slightly. regaining his composure, his usual scowl is back on his face.

he grumbles, “cheating? why the fuck would i be cheating on you?!” he licks his lips and gazes past you for a moment, sighing, “for fuck’s sake, babe. god, why the fuck would i be cheating on you? d’you really think i’m a cheater?!” you shake your head, taken aback by his sudden frustration.

he shouts, “I’VE NEVER CHEATED! NEVER! NOT LIKE FUCK-ASS DEKU WHO DIDN’T EVEN HAVE A QUIRK AND THEN—”

you gently pat his chest as you try to soothe him, “okay, okay, honey, it’s okay. i know you’re not a cheater.” after a few minutes, he calms down (for the most part).

he grunts, “d’you really think i’d do that?” a droplet of his spit hits your eyebrow. you go to wipe it away but he beats you to it, apologising all the while. you reassure him it's okay as you stroke his well-defined back up and down.

you say softly, “of course not. but if you’re not cheating on me, then what else are you doing? i just don’t understand, suki.” he shakes his head before settling back into the crook of your neck; his resting place.

he murmurs into your hot flesh, “just give me a few days n’ i’ll tell you, alright?” you pull back, cupping his cheeks with your hands while his fingers clench the back of your shirt.

you shake your head, saying, “you can tell me now.”

he huffs, “babe—”

“no,” you cut him off. “tell me now. i deserve to know why you’ve been coming home so late.” he gazes down momentarily as his fingers curl into your shirt even more, close to tearing the fabric with how tight his grip is.

he mumbles, “stubborn brat.”

it’s like something snaps. he releases your shirt from his killer grasp and smirks. he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a velvety red, ring box.

he grabs your wrist and places it in your palm, saying, “that’s the reason.” he gazes at you expectantly, waiting for you to open the box. but you’re in shock.

your wide eyes bore into his narrow ones as you blink dumbly. your lips are slightly parted, open enough for the flies to make a home in your mouth. and they could with how little you’re registering right now. you can’t think or speak or move. all you know is that your long-term partner just placed a ring box in your hand.

katsuki rolls his eyes, attempting to hide the pain in his expression as you continue staring at him. he huffs, “well, are you gonna open it or not?”

you nod, your mouth awfully dry. you seal your lips as you shakily open the box. inside is the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. leaves protrude from the band and petals encircle a bright ruby glistening in the golden living room light; a rose. your gaze flickers up to him before switching back to the ring, and then back up to him.

you stutter, “a-are y-you, u-um, a-ask-asking m-me t-too—”

“yes,” he says solemnly. “you’re everything to me, baby. s-so, yea, will you be my wife?” you nod furiously. smirking, he takes the little box from your hand and slips the ring onto your finger. all the tension pent up in his body dissipates as he embraces you once more.

you squeeze his slutty waist tight as you begin tearing up, trying to process that your boyfriend just became your fiancé. katsuki sweetly kisses your forehead before resting his against yours.

he mutters, “i don’t tell you how much i love you enough. clearly like fuck. i fuckin’ love you, baby girl. more than you’ll ever know.”

a/n: link to the engagement ring design here (please lmk if it doesn't work); just imagine that it's a ruby and not a diamond.

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 ⟶ 19, infj, she/her

#★’s works for all of my works, #★’s recs for my recommendations, + #★’s thoughts for my unhinged thoughts about fic

𝐛𝐧𝐡𝐚 𝐦.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 rules ao3 ⟶ has my longer fics + fics i don't think tumblrs would like

currently working on: like drabbles ig but i need some ideas so if you have any send them my way

⭑.ᐟ looks best in light mode

do not plagiarise, copy, repost, or translate my works!

the best kind fr🫡 hoping to write more fics along these lines tbh

insecure

bakugou, izuku, shoto x fem!reader ⋆｡°✩ — reader and her bf went to the beach yesterday and took some photos, she feels insecure about her body, comfort/fluff, smau

make it up to you

newlywed!denki kaminari x fem!reader ⋆｡°✩ — nsfw, non-penetrative sex, body worship, thigh riding, gentle femdom + mommy kink, angst, 3.7k words

a/n: if you like newlywed!denki (as much as i do) then you might like this

Your keys jangle as you slip the right one into the lock of your apartment. Twisting your hand to the side, you nudge open the door. Inside, it’s warm from the rays of your sunshine boy and the heater.

But you’re not smiling all giggly as he bounds over to you. You purse your lips together as he throws his arms around you and hugs you tightly, enveloping you in his heat. Your hands press firmly against his clothed chest as you inhale his refreshing scent. You try to push him back, but he groans and tightens his hold on you.

“Denki,” you sigh. You push him back more forcefully this time, and he lets you go. Stepping back, he meets your gaze tentatively as he chews his bottom lip.

He chuckles nervously as he rubs his neck, “Heyyy baby, how are you? How was work?” You raise your brow at him as he curls in on himself under the intensity of your stare. He clears his throat awkwardly, flicking his eyes down to his house slippers.

You scold him, “Don’t give me that, Denki Kaminari. Not after the stunt you pulled this morning. Or should I say last night?” He winces hearing your words (especially his full government name), but you don’t care. You walk past him to your bedroom and set down your bag before throwing open the doors of your wardrobe.

As you take off your blazer, you hear him say, “I was drunk, baby. I didn’t mean it!” You scoff as you throw your blazer on a coat hanger and roughly hang it on the valet rod.

You turn around and yell at him, “You threw up in my car, Denki! And you didn’t even clean it or tell me?!” You’re huffing as you burn daggers into him with your stare. He hovers in the doorway, pouting in the cutest way. The sight ramps up your anger to level 100.

“For fuck’s sake, Denki, that’s the last time I let you use my car for boys’ night. For real, like, you couldn’t throw up before you left? Or at least put the window down and hurl outside my car?” You sigh as you turn back around and fumble with the buttons of your blouse.

You continue reprimanding him, “Seriously, Denki, you’re not some frat boy anymore. I thought that marriage would help you realise that.” You can hear his heart creaking beneath the weight of your argument. All is quiet as you strip off your blouse and bra and throw on a tank top before unzipping your pants. Your husband watches you pull them off your legs with sorrow and regret in his golden eyes.

He mutters, “’M sorry, honey.” He trudges to you slowly, stopping just behind you while you’re tying a bow on your lounge shorts. You slam the doors of your wardrobe shut and start walking to the vanity, but he grabs your wrist and tugs you close to him.

You grumble, “Fuck off.” He shakes his head as he pulls you into another cuddle.

“I’m serious, Denki. Fuck off!” You squirm in his arms, trying to shove him off you, to no avail. You mentally curse that stupid gym membership you got him for his birthday last year.

He murmurs in your ear, “’M really sorry, mommy. I—”

“Don’t you fucking start. Can you just be serious for once?” You grunt. He shakes his head as his palms slide up and down your back.

He mumbles, “I am being serious.” Your sombre boy shifts to rest his forehead against yours, his palms cupping your tense jaw.

He says earnestly, “I’m trying, mama. I am! I’m trying to be a good husband, and I’m sorry that I keep fucking up. I don’t mean to! You know that. I just… I love you. I love you so much and—”

“Denki,” you say, cutting him off. You sigh, “I know you’re trying, but… Denki.” You tilt your head back and gaze at him. He wishes you wouldn’t look at him like that. With all this tightness between your teeth, that furrow in your brow, and hardness in your eyes. He’d do anything to make them go away.

“Please, let me make it up to you. I’ll-I’ll make you feel good, mama! Even better than I usually do, I promise!” He exclaims.

You shake your head and sigh, “Sex doesn’t fix everything, Denki. You’re gonna have to do more than that to account for your poor behaviour.”

He stares at you like you just grew a second head, repeating your words beneath his breath, “Doesn’t fix everything?” He stutters, “Th-then I’ll… I’ll do the dishes. Yea, every day, baby, for the next week.”

You roll your eyes and say, “That’s not good enough.” You wrap your hands around his wrists and pull his warm hands off your jaw. You step around him, pull out the chair to the vanity, and plop down in it. You grit your teeth as you take your hair out of an updo.

Your husband walks over to you and palms the top of your plush chair. He watches you watch yourself in the mirror, braiding your locks.

He says lowly, “I’ll do whatever you want, mommy. Anything to make it up to you. I’ll let you dress me up in a maid costume as I deep clean your car. And I’ll sleep in the spare bedroom for as long as you want. I’ll stay sober; no boys’ night for a while. I-I’ll even wear a condom for you. Anything, baby, just please, give me another chance.” By the end, he’s pouting and staring at you with pleading eyes.

You chuckle as you tie off your braid. “Really? You’ll even wear a condom, huh? Want me to forgive you that badly?” He nods, gnawing at his full lower lip.

He hums and says, “If that’s what you want, mama, then yes, I will.” You suppress your laugh as you nod. You gaze at his reflection in the mirror for a little while, thinking over what kind of punishment seems fit for how much he’s upset you these past few weeks (newlywed life, amirite?).

At last, you say, grinning, “Alright, I’ll take you up on wearing a maid outfit as you clean my car. And I want you to give the alcohol a rest. You can do as you please; see your friends, don’t see them, just stop drinking every week, yea? And I don’t want to see a single one of your filthy ass socks lying around this house, do I make myself clear?”

He nods, “Crystal.” His lean arms snake around your chest as he leans down. He buries his face in your neck, inhaling the sweetness of your perfume. You thread your hand through his silky locks, massaging his scalp as he softly kisses your skin. You hum at the sensation while his arms tighten that little bit more around you.

His lips are so delicate as they trail across your flesh, from your ear lobe to your jaw, and then down your neck to your collarbones. You hiss quietly as he nips at your skin. The sound sends tension rippling throughout his body, and he stops immediately. He kisses the little red spot and mutters an apology against it. You tug at his roots as you tilt your head down. His golden eyes swirl with concern as they stare into yours. You close the distance between you, planting a soft kiss on the tip of his nose.

He shakes his head and whines, “Let me, mama. I need to show you how much I love you.” You chuckle quietly as you nod. He pulls back and stands up before turning your chair around to face him.

Palming the armrests, he leans down again and gently kisses along your cheekbones. Your husband then kisses your eyelids, your jaw, temples, and brows. He kisses down your nose before capturing your lips with his. You sigh into him, allowing yourself to relax beneath his touch.

His hands cup your cheeks once more, the pad of his thumbs stroking your cheeks lightly. You revel in the roughness of his skin against yours, which is much smoother. His hands travel down your neck and squeeze your shoulders while his tongue slides across your bottom lip. You moan, and his tongue slips into your mouth. He explores it slowly, tasting your teeth and the thickness of your cheeks. You grip onto his shirt, drawing him closer to you. His kisses trail from your lips, across your cheek to your hairline.

He whispers into your ear, “Want me to take you to bed, honey?” You hum as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. One of his arms holds your back while the other loops around your knees. He carries you to the plush bed in the centre of the room and sets you down carefully. You sigh as he bunches the fabric of your tank top in his fists. He pulls it off and throws it to the side.

Next, he fingers your waistband and makes the mistake of trying to tug your shorts off without loosening the bow. You laugh at him, stroking the hair back from his eyes as he pouts and undoes the sturdy little knot. He takes off your shorts successfully and caresses your thighs before pulling off your panties, too.

Denki fixes the pillows, so you have more back support when lying beneath him. He starts at your shoulder and kisses down the curves of your muscles. He licks across the bend of your elbow, golden eyes watching your every stuttered intake of breath. He continues down your arm and takes the time to pepper your fingers with kisses, even sucking on your fingertips. You shiver as his tongue laps at your nail bed. You mewl as he works his way back up your arm and moves across to the other.

You’ve never done anything like this before. Even when you and Denki have tender sex, he’s never taken the time to appreciate your body like this. Sure, he knows your folds like the back of his hand, but every inch of your skin? He’s sure about to learn.

You moan as he sucks on your inner arm. He pulls off your reddening flesh, nipping at the spot before kissing up the rest of your arm and beginning his descent to your breasts. He shows them the utmost care. Not a single bite, he kisses them so delicately. He’s obsessed with how soft they are. He sucks on your nipples gently, rolling his tongue over the sensitive peaks before sucking and then licking again.

When he pulls off them, the cold air sets your skin alight, making your hot flesh burn icily. You whine as his tongue slides over your ribcage before peppering soft kisses on the ridges. Your fingers twirl his locks and pull on them as he licks up your tummy from your navel. You coo his name as your back arches. He shushes you, reassuring you that he’s gonna take good care of you before staining your waist and hips with his lips.

Down the contours of your calves and ankles, he showers you with affection. You sigh as he drags his lower lip across your flushed skin, kissing your inner knee and thighs. When his hair tickles your cunt, you take a sharp breath in and steady yourself. Your arousal is gushing from your sopping hole, your clit so swollen and red it’s begging for attention. Sensing your need, he kisses up your folds but never dips into them.

You whine as he stares at you, slowly rolling you onto your stomach. He climbs back up your body, his heat melting into your skin. His skilful fingers undo your braid and brush your hair to the side while his lips work down your shoulder blades and spine.

In the same painstaking way, he memorises every part of you. More often than not, he’s simply caressing you. He’s in awe of your soft, supple flesh. Of the beauty of his wife.

The feeling of his lips against your ass cheeks makes you gasp. They’re so delicate. Denki can’t stop himself from taking a bite of your buns. You cry out as his teeth bite down on the tender flesh. He pulls off, leaving a beautiful mark before nipping along the curve of your ass more gently.

He mumbles into the fat, “So perfect.” You chuckle, feeling an intimate connection between your ass and your husband.

You breathe out, “I thought you liked my tits better, baby.” You cry out as he smacks your ass cheek, revelling in the sight of it rippling and reddening beneath his hand.

He mutters, kissing the spot better, “I like both, mama.” You moan pathetically as he grips your inner thighs and spreads your legs nice n’ wide. He gazes at your cunt for far longer than necessary, licking his lips and trying not to drool at the sight of your dripping pussy.

He whines, “You’re so wet for me, mommy.” You moan as you try to shift your hips back, but his strong grip stops you. His hand slides down the back of your thigh and bends your knee, pushing it forward so that you’re deliciously exposed to him. He shifts so that his chest is against your back, long, wet digits sliding through your folds from your hole to your clit. His other hand is wrapped around your chest as you mewl, back arching most stunningly.

His fingertips circle your clit, making your hips buck. But he keeps changing the pace. You grab his fingers and pull them off your clit as you twist to gaze at him. His golden eyes are wide, and his brows are raised.

He blinks, stunned, before pouting, “W-what’s wrong, mama? Didn’t that feel good?” You hum as you grab his forearm and bring it over your hips, angling his hand between your thighs. You guide his fingers through your folds before rubbing your clit with them, showing him exactly how you want it.

One thing about your husband is that he’s a fast learner concerning intimacy. He craves to please you in every single way possible and has no issue taking commands. At first, you were nervous about telling him how you want things. But now, you live for it.

“Just like that, baby. Right there,” you coo. He groans in your ear, pressing his body against yours harder as he keeps a steady pace on your clit. You can feel his erection through his sweatpants. You moan as you press your hips into his, feeling his bulge right between your ass cheeks.

He grunts, “Mama.” His finger slips into your hole, stretching you out. You moan as you stare at his hand on your pussy, more slick drooling in his palm.

“Take it off, baby. I wanna feel you, too,” you whine. He fingers you slowly, curling his finger so it presses into your gummy walls just right. Your husband mumbles, curses and praises against your ear while feeling the pre-cum oozing from his cock, making a mess in his trunks.

You grind on him, desperate to feel him. He chuckles lowly as he slides his fingers out. They’re coated in your juices, dripping down his wrist as he holds his hand to the light.

“Fuck, mama,” he murmurs, admiring just how wet his wife is for him. He kisses you on the cheek before getting up briefly and stripping off his clothes at the speed of light. Once he’s as bare as you are, he kneels on the bed and hovers at your side. You cup his face with your hand and bring his lips down to yours. You two kiss passionately as his hand slips between your folds once more.

You let go of his cheek, your tongues and shared breaths connecting you two sufficiently. Your hand slides down his body and wraps around his cock. You thumb his slit and spread his pre-cum down his shaft. You jerk him off just the way he likes while he alternates between rubbing your clit and fingering you.

As you draw back from your soul-exchanging kiss, you’re both panting heavily. You rest your foreheads against one another, basking in each other’s presence and pleasure. You moan loudly as he slides a second finger inside you. You whimper his name as his fingertips press hard against that perfect spot. Your grip on his length tightens as you jerk him off faster. He whines in your ear, letting you hear how good you’re making him feel. His sounds make even more slick dribble from your sopping cunt.

Your thighs tense around his hand as he rubs your clit fast, your head spinning from the knot building in your stomach. You nudge his cheek with your nose before kissing him sloppily. His saliva spills down your chin as he slides his hand up your tummy to grab one of your tits. You sigh at the moment of relief.

He murmurs on your lips, “One sec, mama.” You hum, annoyed, as he draws back from you. As he gets off the bed, you grab his forearm. Your brow is creased as you stare at him with big eyes and pouty lips.

You whine, “Where’re you going?”

He chuckles softly, “’M getting the lube, honey.” You chew on your lower lip as his arm slips from your hold. You lie back against the pillows, watching as he grabs the bottle of lube from the cabinet. He climbs back onto the bed, sitting up and resting against the pillows with his legs outstretched. He motions for you to straddle him with his glistening fingers (y’all know what I’m talking about😏). You grab his shoulders for support as you lift your leg and throw it over his, but he grabs your hips and manoeuvres you so that you’re hovering over one of his toned thighs. You gaze at him with confusion in your furrowed brows and tight jaw.

He whispers, “Just trust me, mommy.” You hum as he squirts the clear liquid onto his hands. After rubbing them together, he paints your slicked-up pussy and inner thighs with the lube. Much to your surprise, he then rubs the lube on his thigh, just beneath your frame.

You whine as you watch him, “Baby, what’re you doing?” He shakes his head and throws the bottle to the edge of the bed before grasping your hips and lowering you onto his thigh. You gasp as your skin makes contact. It’s heavenly. And so fucking wet. You mewl his name as he rocks you back and forth on his tense muscles. You stare into his half-lidded golden eyes with your wide ones. You grab his upper arms as you start riding his thigh on your own.

Soon enough, you’re hunched over, your head resting on his shoulder as you alternate between bouncing on and riding his thigh. Your breaths are stuttered, and your skin is coated in sweat. His fingertips dig into the delicate flesh of your hips as your pace becomes sloppier. You tilt your head back, moaning loudly from how hard his muscles are against your soft, puffy clit. You chant his name, quietly revering the man that is your husband as you near your orgasm.

He groans, “Fuck, mommy. You’re riding me so good. Knew you’d like this.” You moan particularly loudly as he starts bouncing you on his thigh even harder than before.

“Look at those tits… and that ass. I swear you have a level 1000 gyatt back th—

“Shut up,” you breathe out as your hand covers his mouth. He licks your palm, causing you to recoil in disgust. He chuckles as you stare at him scoldingly.

He whispers, “Love you, mama.” You hum and kiss him, whimpering against his lips that you love him too; the sound of your slapping skin is the only interruption. When you pull back, he can’t stop staring at you. He’s got hearts in his eyes, obsessed with how sublime you look right now, how you’re all hot and sweaty and whining for your husband.

The fact that he can make you feel this good— that he even has the privilege to do so… He gulps, reminded of just how precious you are to him.

He grunts, “You gonna cum for me, mama?” You nod, biting your swollen lip hard. Little whines escape your throat as your body starts to tremble; your orgasm crashes down on you. You shout as you cum, moaning and swearing loud enough to be heard from down the hall of your apartment complex. His name is on your lips like a prayer as you shake, hot release gushing from your syrup folds onto his equally syrupy thigh. He keeps bouncing you until you’re begging him to stop; your clit is far too sensitive now.

You slump against him, holding him lazily while he rubs your back soothingly. Denki groans, feeling your cum splattered across his skin. Your chest rises and falls with his as you pant, trying to calm down from your high. Minutes pass as he reassures you how well you did. You tilt your head back and place a sleepy kiss on his jaw.

You murmur against the bone, “That felt so good, baby. So, so good.” He hums, the vibration in his throat helping you relax. You sigh as you rest your head on his shoulder.

He chuckles, “You really liked that, huh?” You nod as you gently kiss his neck. He mutters as he pats your back, “Why don’t we take a little break, honey? D’you want some water?” You pull back and stare at him in disbelief.

You mumble, “The fuck you mean ‘little break’? We’re not done yet?” He shakes his head, laughing at how adorable you look when you’re mad.

“Just getting started,” he says, grinning. He leans down and kisses your salty forehead before murmuring against it, “’M gonna make you cum so many times tonight, baby, you’ll still be feeling my tongue all over your pussy tomorrow.”

And oh, does he deliver on that promise…

the bird in me

hawks x fem!reader⋆｡°✩ — bird mating drabbles, throwing up, you're a barista, fluff, sexual implications at the end, 3.5k words

a/n: this has to be one of my favourite works so far

regurgitation

it’s bad. every time he sees you, he can feel the churning in his stomach. something as simple as a smile or wave is enough to have his fist pressed to his lips, loudly clearing his suddenly tight throat.

every time you talk, he’s trying hard not to make a fool of himself (and failing miserably). he’s constantly ahem-ing or coughing, anything to push the rising bile back down his oesophagus.

he wills himself to be a man, to take the acidic burn with pride because he’s fortunate enough to be acknowledged by such a beautiful and intelligent girl. but by the five-minute mark, he’s excusing himself to the bathroom and throwing up this morning’s breakfast.

you thought he was just shy at first, but as it continues to happen, you begin to think he doesn’t like you.

the bell chimes as the café door swings shut. you gaze over the coffee machine, spotting those bright red feathers against the gloom of the night.

you take a deep breath in, rolling your eyes as you drawl, “we closed ten minutes ago, mr hawks.” a nervous laugh, your interest is piqued.

“i know, dove, but i wanted to see you,” he says confidently, only to clear his throat right afterwards.

your brow furrows, and you say more bluntly than intended, “well, i don’t know. you’re always trying to run away from me. your usual?”

“yes please,” he says, waltzing over to you. he rests his weight against the bench, watching you brew his double-shot cappuccino. ahem. he continues. “and i’m not trying to run away from you. never have—”

“doesn’t seem that way to me,” you cut him off. he coughs ostentatiously into his elbow, his face heating up from the sheer strength it’s taking to not throw up right now. he can’t help it!

you continue as you pour the thick foam into the takeaway cup, “you’ve only got few minutes for me before you’re dashing off. i mean i know you’re busy, but do you not have any better excuses? like, for a pro hero, you sure are shit at lying.” you’re glaring holes into the creamy milk as you shake chocolate powder on top of it.

you mumble, “if you don’t like me you can just say so.” the snap of the lid on the little paper cup echoes through the empty café. hawks hears his heart crack a little at your words. not like you? how could he not like you?! wasn’t it obvious—ahem!

he gasps, “bathroom?” you roll your eyes.

“at the back. hey!” your arms are raised as you glare after him, watching as he rushes to the bathroom.

you whisper-yell to yourself, “what the fuck?!” you slide his hot coffee to the edge of the bench and huff, fed up with his perplexing behaviour. if the night wasn’t so still, and the streets surrounding your tiny café so quiet, you wouldn’t have heard him violently throwing up in the men’s bathroom. but you do.

your eyes widen and then crinkle as you wince, wishing that such disgusting sounds weren’t ricocheting off the walls. you pull the bow of your apron loose and shrug it off, leaving it on a nearby table as you make your way to the bathrooms.

you hear the toilet flush as you body slam the heavy, olive green door open. white lights sting your eyes as you search for any sign of your most loyal customer. you find him resting against an open stall door, eyes closed, lips chapped, and forehead beading with sweat.

“mr hawks?” you say gently. his golden eyes shoot open and find you immediately. he smiles incredulously, and his voice is thick as he rasps, “this is the men’s ro—”

“shut the fuck up. are you okay?” you shift closer to him, but he moves back, calves hitting the toilet seat. you stop in your tracks, caging him in the small stall. his eyes dart to the side as he weighs up how to get out of the corner he’s backed himself into.

seeing his nervousness, you sigh. you turn and begin to walk out of the bathroom. he catches your elbow by the sinks and pulls you into his chest. you yelp as you hit his solid frame, utterly bewildered. his large hands gently squeeze your upper arms as you tilt your head up, gazing at him.

you mutter, “what is it?” he shakes his head, eyes dropping and unintentionally resting on your collarbone peeking out of your uniform. great, the pro hero thinks. that familiar sensation is reignited at the base of his throat.

he chokes out, “i-just give me a minute.” he let’s go of your arms and wanders back into the stall, shutting the door and bolting it this time. you groan, wrapping your arms around yourself as you listen to him throw up again, his chunky symphony amplified by these fuck ass tiles.

interjecting the flush of the toilet is the stall door slamming open. out strolls a lazily grinning hawks. he chuckles, “don’t tell me you have to clean in here.”

you sigh, “of course i do.”

he stops in front of you and shrugs, “then give me the mop and bucket and i’ll take care of it, alright?”

you shake your head, muttering, “look don’t worry about that. are you okay? what’s going on? you just threw up like twice. do you have food pois—”

“i feel great, actually. now, about what you were saying earlier,” he reaches out and takes your hands in his awfully clammy ones.

your shoulders slump as you huff, trying to pull your hands back. “hawks—”

“ya know, i really wish you would stop calling me that, dove.” he draws you in close, his body heat seeping through his clothes into you.

you retort, “and i really wish that you would stop interrupting me.” he opens his mouth, sucking in a breath as though he’s about to speak, and then he doesn’t.

the stifling air is quiet for a moment before the pro hero mutters, “sorry.” you shake your head as your mouth draws into a hard line. but you inevitably soften as he jerks away from you, coughing.

quietening down, he rasps, “i really like you, okay? i’m not trying to run away from you. quite the opposite, actually.” he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, concerned that you can feel his heart jumping out of his chest. at least his stomach isn’t lurching anymore. he really did need that release.

seconds pass in tense silence as you wait for him to explain. he sighs, “i swear, y/n, i like you.”

“but,” you say, emphasising the ‘t’. he looks away from you, gathering his courage for what he’s about to say.

he breathes out, “don’t laugh, okay?” you nod, about to tear your hair out from the suspense. this man really knows how to dodge questions, you think.

“every time i see you… i wanna throw up.” he mutters that last part at the end as he gazes down at the minute crevices between your bodies.

your eyes widen as you exclaim, “you what?!” he grip tightens on your hands as he shakes his head fervently.

“because-um-it’s a bird thing. i wanna throw up because i like you, okay?” your mouth hangs half-open as you try to register his words.

he brings your hands to his lips and chastely kisses your knuckles. you stare at him in disbelief, stuttering, “i-it’s a bird thing? you-you wanting to throw up every time you see me?”

he nods, “technically, i want to regurgitate every time i see you. the bird part of me wants to prove to you that i’m a good partner.”

that night, you make sure he’s had some food and electrolytes before drinking his cold cappuccino.

preening

ever since you two started dating, it’s become a routine for kei to preen his feathers just before bed, and for you to simply sit across from him on the sofa, reading a book, scrolling on your phone, or watching him.

but tonight as you take up your usual spot on the couch, kei plops down next to you. he gently nudges your arm, catching your attention.

you mumble, “what is it, babe?” as you lock your phone. he kisses from your cheek to your jaw, earning an airy giggle from you.

he mutters into your skin, “will you preen my wings tonight?” your eyes widen as you let out a stuttered breath.

you pull back, saying nervously, “k-kei, honey, you sure? i’ve never preened anything before.” he hums as he slides off the couch and sits on the floor in front of you. he holds up a bottle of oil and you take it from him while explains how to preen his feathers.

you start with the feathers closest to his body and work your way out, from top to bottom. as your fingers work over his feathers, pulling debris from them and realigning the barbs, your bird boy hums.

you drop another piece of tarmac on the coffee table, saying, “you could hide a fucking road in here with how much rubble i’m pulling out right now.” kei chuckles and sighs, feeling you remove yet another remnant of today’s battles.

“are they always this dirty?” you question. your hero nods. it takes longer for you to preen him than if kei were to preen his feathers, but he appreciates your delicate and loving touch.

and the next night, he asks if you can preen his wings again. and soon, your routine has changed to you preening his feathers every night before bed.

gift-giving, scent marking, nesting

the cold winter nights warm and scrawny branches bloom with flowers, signifying that spring has arrived.

it was subtle at first, kei would bring home flowers for you every few days, claiming that his perfect girl deserved to be spoiled. and he claimed the same when he started making the most delicious dinners for you two every night, and when he started gifting you the most luxurious necklaces and shoes and bags you’ve ever owned.

when you woke up this morning, your bed sheets smelt of citrus. so fresh and divine, you sighed and rolled around, cocooning yourself in the quilt to get another whiff of that scent. you liked the smell so much that you got out of bed still wrapped up in the quilt, and dragged it around home with you all day (it’s your day off).

as kei closes the door behind him after another long day, you rush up to him, quilt left lonely. you throw yourself into his awaiting arms, sighing as his zesty scent washes over you. you sigh, melding your body against his as you inhale his musk.

he chuckles softly, “hey, dove. missed me, huh?”

you hum and mumble into his compression shirt, “you smell so good. since when did you smell like citrus though?” pulling back and pointing to the quilt on the sofa, you continue, “i thought you just bought some new laundry detergent or something.”

kei shrugs it off, claiming that he bought a new cologne (lies). but not before he draws you back into his arms and rubs the side of his face and neck all over your face and neck. sighing, you let him off the hook but resolve to keep an eye on him.

rummaging through his duffle bag, he says excitedly, "d'you wanna see what i got you, dove?" you press your lips together, disappointed by kei's spending habits lately. but not for long as he hands you a sealed box of the perfume you've been eying for years (it's vanilla2 by maison tahité for me).

you squeal in delight and thank him profusely, smothering his cheeks and lips and stubble with kisses before skipping off to your room to try your new perfume (kei rocks you gently as you have a cry over how blessed you are to have such an attentive partner).

for the next week, you swear you can hear shuffling in the early hours of the morning. as soon as you lift your head off the pillows though and search the dark room for some kind of movement, everything stills. you usually fall back asleep, but tonight is a bit different.

again, you wake to muffled sounds emanating from somewhere in your apartment. groaning, you bury your head into your pillow, only to rise from it a minute later when you hear a loud thud. roused from your sleepy daze, you get out of bed and caress the door frame for wayyy too long before you eventually find the light switch.

your eyes adjust to the sudden brightness quickly, and everything looks the same as it usually does. but something is missing. or rather, someone.

you step out of your shared bedroom and stare down the hall, seeing a familiar glow curling its fingers beneath one of the doors. as you approach it, you realise that the light is coming from kei’s office.

but it’s not just the light that is coming from his office. this sound, like something sliding against the floorboards, resonates from behind the wooden door.

you stand outside his office, leaning your ear against the door to eavesdrop. but the noise stops abruptly, as if kei (who you assume is inside) knows you’re right there.

you turn the doorknob and push the door open, revealing a dishevelled-looking kei amidst a heap of blankets. you blink at him dumbly, sleepily, and confused.

“kei,” you drawl. “what’re you doing?” he chuckles nervously as he stands from his crouched position and comes over to you, tripping on a blanket’s edge in the process. you catch his upper arms and help him to steady himself.

he gazes at you frantically, muttering, “’mnotdoinganythingchickpea. whydon’twegobacktobed?” his hands encircle your wrists and gently push you back toward the door. you shake your head.

“keigo takami,” you say in that serious tone parents reserve for when their child misbehaves. “what’re tryna hide from me?”

“nothing!” he exclaims far too loudly and quickly. you raise your brow at him while your eyes trail over his messy hair and half-unbuttoned pj shirt. you catch a glimpse of his toned muscles and golden-brown snail trail beneath the soft cotton. you gulp and avert your eyes to the mess behind him. he side steps, blocking your view.

you groan, “keigo.”

“please dove, promise i’ll show you later, okay?” he pleads.

you roll your eyes, sighing, “you cooking up a grand masterpiece or something back there?” he nods and hums. you let him have his way, following him back to bed and curling tight into his chest, hoping he won’t be able to get away without waking you.

for the next week, you’re banned from entering kei’s office. he claims that he’s working on a big surprise for you, which melts your heart and makes you laugh.

one night after dinner, he takes you by the hand and leads you to his office. dramatic as ever, he makes you close your eyes before he opens the door and guides you inside. when you open your eyes, you see the fruits of his efforts.

before you lies a little nook crafted out of throws and cushions. you giggle as you take in his little nest. it looks so cosy and inviting. 

you exclaim, “kei, this is so sweet!” you turn around and warmly hug him, content to nuzzle into his zesty scent. he kisses your forehead and nudges you closer to his nest. he holds your hand as you sit down in the centre of it, relishing in his overpowering musk. he sits next to you and cuddles with you, peppering your face and neck with tender kisses as he mumbles against your hot flesh how much he loves you.

interpretive dance and singing

it’s the peak of spring; the flowers are in full bloom, the skies are blue, and the temperature is just right for you to wear all your favourite dresses.

tonight is like most other nights. after preening kei’s feathers, you take a shower. you’re soothing moisturiser into your skin as your boyfriend comes into view. you gaze at him in the mirror, smiling brightly. he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close, ignorant of the damp towel enveloping your body.

pouring body oil into your palm, you tell him to move. but he doesn’t budge an inch. instead, he wipes the oil out of your palm and warms it in his rough hands. he caresses your shoulders, briefly massaging them before rubbing the oil into your back. his fingertips dip below the towel’s edge, earning a sigh from you.

you tilt your head back to look at your lover. he grins down at you and gently kisses you while wrapping his arms around yours and pulling you back into his firm body.

craving his sweetness, you turn around in his hold, cupping his cheeks and deepening the kiss. tongues swirl and ignite a buried fire in the pits of your stomachs.

kei’s hands roam your body as he sucks on your lower lip. such teasing touches have your towel slipping and eventually pooling on the bathroom floor. he grips your hips, squeezing them as he groans into your mouth.

you two separate for a brief moment, catching your breath and each other’s eyes. he gazes at you lustfully; he’s desperate to mould your body to his all night long, to make you his in the most intimate of ways.

your fingers trail up his exposed biceps before you wrap your arms around his neck. you draw him down to you, smirking as you whisper in his ear, “i know you want me, baby.”

he chuckles gruffly against your skin, the sound doing unholy things to you. his citrusy scent is intoxicating up this close. you breathe in deeply, his thick musk filling your lungs.

he rasps, “yea, i do. i want you so bad, dove.” you hum before nipping at his ear lobe. the small gesture sends a thrill of pleasure shuddering throughout his body.

kei should know this by now, but nothing comes for free. he’s seen the cruelty of this world, and even though you’re his escape from it all, he shouldn’t be as wide-eyed and breathless from your next words.

“oh yea? show me,” you whisper seductively. it’s like everything was dark before you spoke. and now that you have, the lights have been switched on. your words are like the gospel, true and calling him to action. and yet, they’re so impure. kei has been enlightened.

he steps back from you, the cool air wafting over your bare skin. your nipples harden as you bite your lip, looking at him nervously. your lover shakes his head, saying lowly, “meet me in the living room once you’re done.” you hum as you nod, rather intrigued by kei’s sudden change in mood.

when you’ve finally finished your post-shower routine, you head to the living room. your jaw slackens, and your brows raise as you enter, seeing the coffee table moved and couches pushed back to create space in the centre. you blink dumbly as he comes over to you.

he wraps an arm around your shoulders and leads you to one of the sofas, saying cockily, “take a seat, chickpea.” you follow his instruction, making yourself comfortable on the sofa while your boyfriend steps back. he catches your eyes, the look in his awfully serious.

you ask confused, “kei, what’s going on?” he shakes his head.

clearing his throat, he begins to sing. you blink at him dumbly as you register his sweet praises that are surprisingly on-key. he spreads his arms wide before rolling his wrists and body in time with his words. you grab the nearest cushion and hold it tight as your mouth hangs open.

your eyes are trained on his quick, rhythmic movements. he spins around and jumps, his voice never faltering. you shriek playfully as he locks eyes with you. his wings spread out to his sides, his beautiful feathers on full display. you can feel your face heating up, cooking beneath the heat of this moment.

you can’t stop staring at him, drinking in how good he is at interpretive dance. you shriek again as he slaps his thighs in a wide stance. your laugh is stuttered as you raise the cushion up, blocking your view of him.

his singing stops and in a moment, the cushion is snatched from your hands and hurled across the room.

he pants, “’m not done, dove. watch me.”

you stutter in disbelief, “n-not done?” he hums as he steps back, ready to continue his performance.

shaking your head, you exclaim, “kei, kei, it’s okay! you don’t have to keep going.”

he pouts, “don’t you like my dance? or my song?” you’re rendered speechless as you stare at him. he tilts his head toward you expectantly, but you can’t speak. you’re far too stunned by his musical display to say anything. the air shifts as he chuckles softly and steps toward you. he plops down on top of you, squishing you against the sofa.

he mutters into the crook of your neck, “did i show you have much i want you?” you groan from his weight as you thread your fingers through his hair.

you kiss his damp forehead, saying amusedly, “oh yea. i, uh, i liked that song you sang. what’s it called? ‘the bird in me’?” he bites your shoulder lightly, but the sudden sensation makes you gasp.

your hands are already shoving at his chest as he grunts sarcastically, “yea, it’s called ‘the bird in me’. i wrote it just for you, chickpea.” he raises his head and pulls off you a little, giving you a bit of breathing room. your chest rises high, grazing his as you take in the mischievous glint in his eyes.

“now, let me have my reward.”

boobs too big

pro hero!bakugou katsuki x fem!reader⋆｡°✩ — swearing, bit of spice + implied smut, 4.7k words, for plus size readers and/or readers who have a larger chest size

a/n: room was inspired by this fanart; [f/c] = favourite colour

You had just finished work for the day. It was around 5pm and you knew that your boyfriend, Bakugou, would be finishing up his patrol about now. You packed up your things and left the office, saying goodbyes and thank you’s to your colleagues on the way out. It was a quick walk to the train station. The mauve and orange sky filling you with awe. The breeze and was cool and slight, ruffling your hair and blouse gently. You got off in two stops and walked to Dynamight’s agency.

Sometimes, he would pick you up from work. Sometimes, you would come to his agency after work. And some other times, you two would just meet at home, especially if it had been a long day or one of you had the day off.

Today, you wanted to surprise him since you two had a great (wink) time last night and he had left so quickly and early this morning on call. You were left craving your hero’s touch and affections and what a better way to let him know than by surprising him after work.

The receptionists recognised you when you walked in, greeting you and letting you know that Dynamight wasn’t back yet, but he should be shortly. You thanked them and headed to the elevator, taking it up the top floor where his office was. Let me rephrase that, his office was the top floor.

Once you hopped off the elevator, you could see his empty office through the glass walls. You push the glass door open and enter, taking in how messy it was since the last time you had been in here (which was last Wednesday). You placed your bag down, resting against the leg of his large wooden desk. The scorch marks across it making you smile.

You came around to his seat, seeing the picture he had on his desk of you two at the beach. The frame was decorated with pasta pieces, a craft project you had taken too in the last few months. It made you giggle. You remembered that day at the beach. It had been so hot and Katsuki had been complaining the whole time about his quirk going off. And about you getting sunburnt. He was committed to lathering you up every two hours, especially since you were in a bikini that he ripped off that night back at the rental place. It was when he had first admitted to you how much he loved you. Not with words of course. No, you knew by how he had taken such good care of you that aforementioned night and you had (of course) reciprocated his feelings.

You looked away from the picture, rolling up the sleeves of your [f/c] blouse before bending to put pens and pencils back in their holder, sticky notes in a pile, empty the sharpener, and so on. You continued to tidy his office, moving from the desk to the shelving and seating. He really was messy, you thought to yourself. At home, it wasn’t too bad since you were there, but alone, damn was he a—

Your thoughts are interrupted by the ding of the elevator. You turn around, mid paper-picking up, to see the love of your life stomping angrily (as per usual) out of the elevator. His gloved palms collide with the office door and he’s huffing inside. When he notices you he shouts, “[Y/N] WHAT THE FUCK?! What’re you doing ‘ere, you brat?!” You laugh, placing the papers in your hands on his desk and walking up to him. He meets you first, and your hands are on his chest, you head tilted up.

You look so sweet, so kissable in this moment, and Bakugou can’t resist you. His sweat-laden gloves grab at your waist and you tilt your head back even more. You lick your lips and the way he crashes his lips down onto yours has you weak in the knees. You grip harder onto his suit, hands soon moving to the back of his neck.

He’s got that shit-eating grin on his face, you can feel it as your breaths and moans intermingle and become one. His tongue seeks yours, rolling over your bottom lip and teeth. You fall further into him, your knees weakening even more. And he catches you, smirking wider and intertwining his tongue with yours. You can taste the remnants of the steamed salmon and rice bento you made him for lunch.

You moan particularly loudly into him, only further further inflating his massive ego. By the time you two pull away, you’ve got saliva dripping down your chin. You’re both panting, foreheads resting against one another. He chuckles at how pathetic you are for him pretending he’s not the one wrapped around your finger.

He takes off one of his gloves, wiping the spit from your chin with long, sweaty fingers. You hum softly and pull away from him, smiling. “You’re gonna ruin my makeup if you keep doing that.” You give him a teasing disapproving look to which he smirks, “I’ll do a lot more than fuck up your makeup, love.” He’s got that lewd look in his eyes and you have to turn away, hoping he won’t catch sight of the blush stirring in your cheeks.

You return back to what you were doing before, picking up the documents that had fallen off his cluttered desk and onto the floor. You watch out of the corner of your eye as Bakugou stalks over to his desk chair, pulling it roughly and plonking down in it. He’s got his feet up on the desk, taking his other glove and mask off.

He looks over at you and then around his office. His brows furrow, “Oi! Have you been cleaning up my office?” You look up at him and nod, smiling gently. He looks away, “Tch.” You watch as he crosses his muscular yet scarred arms across his chest, taking his feet down. “You mad at me, Suki?” You raise an eyebrow. He avoids your gaze as he gets up from the desk and walks around it, towards you. But, he doesn’t come to you.

Instead, he walks past you, not flicking a glance your way the entire time, over to the sofa at the far end of the office. You continue picking up the last pieces of paper that have fallen when drops a box at your feet. You’re startled by the noise and yelp, “Fuck, Katsuki!” You shift to look at him and he’s still scowling. He meets your gaze for a moment before rolling his eyes. “It’s the new merch…” He finally looks back at you. “For you.”

You’re immediately all giggles, tense shoulders relaxing. “Really? You got me new merch?!” You’re grinning from ear to ear, and you can see him get even more annoyed. That was one thing about him that had taken a while for you to learn. Even though he looks pissed off, he’s actually really happy that you’re excited.

“Thanks, Suki!” You step around the box and give him a hug. He grumbles but accepts it, patting the back of your head. You pull away from him and crouch down to the cardboard box, not paying attention to how he strides to his desk, plopping down in his chair to watch you.

You take the lid off and squeal. On top is an oversized black hoodie with a white skull on it. He knows how much you love his skull merch so this was really precious to you that he would bring out more.

Bakugou actually took part in his merch design. He didn’t come up with all of the designs, but he would meet with his team of designers to go over different ideas they had and finalise the next line of merch. This was unique in that most heroes outsourced their official merch design and manufacture while Bakugou preferred to be involved in his. He claimed that he didn’t want any of these ‘extras’ screwing up his designs, but you know that it was because he really wants for his fans to have nicely designed and good quality official merch.

It felt so soft and thick! This was definitely going to be your new fav hoodie. Your current one (which was another one of Dynamight’s merch) was falling apart at the seams after almost daily wear for the past five years. You set it on your lap and continued going through the box. This new range’s theme was skulls. You couldn’t stop smiling and giggling to yourself as you looked at each item, mesmerised. Bakugou watched you, nervous and happy-annoyed that you seemed to really like it. He had designed them with you in mind after all.

Beneath a pair of skull track shorts, you see what you think you’re seeing but not too sure if you’re actually seeing this so you end up pinching yourself. Dynamight underwear? There’s a reason why heroes don’t bring out official merch underwear and that’s because it takes a lot of work to figure out a flattering and attractive design that would make fans spend almost triple the price of regular underwear to buy. You’re in actual shock as pick up a skull patterned bralette by the straps.

The base colour is a pale orange with the opaque skulls printed on top. It blurs the line between Halloween and Dynamight merch, you think. But you also think that it gets extra points for versatility. The fabric is soft to the touch. Actually, it’s the softest material you’ve felt yet. The clasps at the back have also been flattened for comfort.

Bakugou stares at you intensely from his desk as you look at it. This is the moment he’s been the most nervous for. It was this piece that he wanted you to love out of the whole range as you’ve been complaining for a few weeks about how hard it is to find comfortable underwear that lasts a long time and actually looks good.

And he’s done it!

Just kidding. The bra looks like it was made for a pre-teen going through who just started going through puberty. You’re looking at it now wondering how the fuck that was supposed to hold anything in place.

Bakugou senses your dismay and pipes up, “You don’t like it?” You can hear the hurt in your voice. You quickly put the bralette back in the box and shake your head. “No! No, it’s not that, Suki-chan.” You’re waving your hands dismissively. “It’s just that…” Your hands fall from your chest to your knees and you look down, at the bralette. It’s so pretty and you know he must of worked so hard on it.

“Tch.” You look up, catching the end of his eye roll. “WHAT?!” He looks at you expectantly now, brows knitted together. You bite the side of your lip, anxiety jitters moving throughout your body in wavelike motions. But then you chuckle slightly, doing your best to shake it off. There’s nothing for you to be anxious about. “Suki,” you giggle, lifting the bralette up so he can see the front. You bring it next to your chest, straps hanging from your fingers. “What is this gonna hold?”

In an instant, his cheeks heat up and he’s grumbling to himself that it’s a fine size. You can see the blush extending from his cheeks to the tops of his ears and down the back of his neck. You smile and get up from your place next to the box, coming over to him and sitting on his lap (which he has no complaints about). You hold the bralette up to show him what you’re talking about, “It’s really pretty , Suki-chan. But it’s just so small. You know that… You know.” You’re giving him those pleading eyes. Those eyes of ‘please, don’t make me explain myself’. But, he just looks at you, blushing and scrunching up his brows.

You soothe the wrinkles with the pad of your thumb, but as soon as they’re gone, they come right back. He takes the bralette from your hands, holding it against your chest. And now, he’s beginning to understand what you were talking about. He huffs and places it down on your lap. It’s quiet for a few moments before you speak up, “I know you worked really hard on it, Suki. It’s okay. We’ll just—”

“Your boobs are too big.”

You’re staring at him, eyes wide, jaw ‘bout to drop. The fuck did he say to— “What?” He shrugs, “It’s not my fault your t—”

“Okay!” You hold up your hand, unable to tell whether he’s joking or not. “Thanks babe. Really.” You’re tone is dripping with sarcasm as you stare him down. But he’s unfazed by this sudden change in your mood. He shrugs again, barking out his laughter as he does so, “I wouldn’t want it any other way, you know?” He’s leaning over, in for the kiss. But you’re not in the mood.

You get off his lap but his hot hands grasp your wrist before you can really go anywhere. You back around to look at him and he’s got that sharp, lopsided smirk across his face. “I’ll make you a new one, eh?” You’re staring at him, brow raised, confused. But he doesn’t notice (he does but chooses to ignore it) and pulls you in for that kiss you tried to evade.

And it works, after a few moments the bralette sizing dilemma is forgotten. And so is the fact that the walls of Dynamight’s office are literally glass so anyone who happens to come up to the top floor of the agency can see into his office and consequently, the lewd undertakings that ensue.

…⊹₊⟡⋆…

It’s been about week since Dynamight had given you a look at the new merch. After that afternoon in the office, the matter of the bralette sizing hadn’t come up since. You’re beginning to get a little suspicious since your boyfriend has been staying back after patrol ever since. He says it to review patrol reports, but if you knew better (and you do), you would say that it was to work on the bralette design.

It was around 12pm on Thursday when Bakugou called you. You had just gone to lunch break thankfully and picked up immediately. “Oi. Come by the agency after work. There’s something I wanna show you.” His voice was gruff and you thought you could hear the laughter of Red Riot in the background. “Mhmm, what do you want to show me?” You were trying to conceal your smile, but knowing Bakugou, he definitely could hear it from the other end of the line. “Tch. You’ll find out when you ‘ere, alright?” You giggle in response, telling him “Okay” and “I love you” before hanging up the line.

And now, you had just left the train station and were walking towards Dynamight’s agency. You couldn’t help the grin that was plastered across your face. You had been smiling ever since that phone call. So much so that your cheeks had begun to hurt.

It wasn’t long before you arrived, greeting the receptionists who directed you down the hall this time. You smiled and followed their lead, walking down the corridor and turning left down another hallway until you came to the design room. This is where all of the merch was designed and tested after manufacture. You knocked on the door, seeing through the little glass window cut-out on the door spiky ash blond hair. It opened after a few seconds and you were met with a woman who you assume to be one of Dynamight’s design assistants.

She had long, dark blue hair with equally blue eyes. She greeted you with a smile and motioned for you to enter. As you did so, Dynamight came up to you and snaked his arm around your waist. You giggled, embracing his tall, warm frame. He smelt like ash and smoke as per usual. He huffed into your shoulder before pulling away, smirking sharply down at you. You returned it with your own, much softer grin.

He had that excited look in his eyes, and you couldn’t help but feel excited by seeing it. “So,” you began, “Why did you ask me to come here?” He laughed, shaking his head slightly at your perceived dullness. “Isn’t it obvious? You’re gonna be my model for the new merch.” You blinked once. And then twice. Sorry what? Did you hear that right? Model? You?

You shook your head, now getting a better look at the room since Bakugou had stepped back. You could see boxes haphazardly stacked in one of the corners while a few sat opened on top of a long grey table. There were a few more assistants seated at the table, pulling the contents out and discussing the merch.

You looked back to the woman standing in front of you and then to your partner. “Um, what do you mean?” You asked tentatively. “Tch.” Bakugou put his hand on your lower back, still gloved and sooty, and led-pushed you over to the table. The blue-haired woman followed behind.

Once you got to the table, Bakugou pulled out the same bralette you had initially been critical of. Except this time, it looked like it actually might fit. He released his grasp on you and held it up to your chest, eyes glinting and lips pulling into another smirk in satisfaction. His red eyes flicked up to meet your own [e/c] ones and he thrust the bralette into your hands. He pointed to something behind you so you turned around, seeing that he was pointing to a little dressing cube in the corner. You put two and two together and turn back around, about to protest when Bakugou spoke over the top of you.

“Oi! Just try it on,” he rolled his eyes. Your mouth formed a hard line and you stared at him for a little before ultimately deciding that it was best to do as he says. I mean, he has put in all of this work to make this bralette fit you. And yea, it is a bit embarrassing to have to try it on when there are so many (not really but) of his employees around. But, he has the best intentions and you love him dearly for that.

You drop your bag against the leg of the table before walking over to the changing area. You pull the curtain shut behind you before removing your blouse and push-up bra to put on the orange bralette. Ah, you think, it feels so soft! You turn and look at yourself in the small mirror on the wall and wow, it really does look and fit so good. The bralette curves and sits perfectly over your breasts and on your under-bust. No spilling or gaping. You’re in awe of how Katsuki pulled this off. But then, you remember that you are dating THE pro hero Dynamight.

You pull the curtain aside and step out, your boyfriend’s sharp eyes on you from the moment you re-appeared. You walk over to him, trying to hide the smirk on your face seeing how his mouth had dropped open slightly and eyes were trained on your chest, blond brows completely relaxed. As soon as you’re within arms-length, Bakugou’s large gloved hands grab onto your forearm, pulling so that you fall into his chest. His arms are wrapped around you, eyes tracing the curves of your chest and then roving up your neck and to your jawline, lips, and [e/c] eyes.

You smile gently and giggle a little before he brings his hand to the top of your head and ruffles your silky locks. This causes you to giggle even more and look down, the intensity of his stare always making you falter.

At the sudden realisation that indeed, you two weren’t alone, you cleared your throat, archiving that cute smile he loved so much and bringing out the business look. You placed your much smaller hands on his chest and pushed him back slightly, earning you an irate noise from the back of Katsuki’s throat. You shook your head before tilting it to the side, “There are other people here, you know?”

He laughs from his chest, his warm breath hitting your face. “Oh, I know.” He’s got this wide shit-eating grin stretched across his face now. Great. You grumble playfully, “Suki-chan, we have to be professional.” He rolls his eyes at you, backing off now, “Tch.”

He takes the sight of you in again, very obviously checking you out. You begin to feel self-conscious with how much he’s staring at you. Automatically, your hands are on the move to cover your chest but you stop mid movement, seeing his eyebrows furrow, and force them back down by your sides. You are his model, after all. How can he improve his craft is you don’t allow him to evaluate his work? But this evaluation was teetering on the edge of shamless eye-fucking.

You clear your throat again, “Yea, I like it. You’ve done a really good job.” Your fingers start pointing to different parts of the bralette as you continue, “The band is really comfortable, the cups fit well, the straps are a good length. I really like it.” You give him a smile and tilt your head after you finish explaining. His hungry gaze lingers on you for a few moments more, tongue darting across his lower lip before he turns away from you.

Bakugou walks back over to the table, standing at the end of it, “You heard her. It’s fine.” You come up behind him and place your hand on his shoulder, standing a bit to the side. “It’s really nice, honestly. You’ve all done a really good job on it.” They nod, returning your grin with their own.

The blue-haired assistant asks if she can take some photos of you wearing the bralette for their quality assurance and fit records, and of course, you agree. Bakugou stands off to the side, pretending to be listening to one of the designers when in reality, all he can focus on is how attractive you look in his merch. 100% eye-fucking you.

It’s not long before you’ve stripped it off and have changed back into your work clothes. Bakugou still has some work to do at the agency before he leaves, so you give a him kiss on the cheek and thank the design team before catching the train home.

…⊹₊⟡⋆…

Within the next week, Dynamight’s new skull merch line dropped and it was selling fast. The oversized hoodie and classic skull t-shirt had already sold out. Pro heroes such as Shoto and Deku were seen out in public in the orange and black skull bucket hats. This response from fans and heroes was unprecedented, and you had been buttering your boyfriend up all week about how incredible of a designer and businessman he was besides from being the greatest pro hero ever.

He has been pretty busy since, trying to manage his hero work, re-stocking of the merch, and the attention all of this has garnered from the media. In fact, he had just done an interview on the new merch yesterday. And today, your pookie was long gone by the time you had woken up — only at 8am since it was your day off — as he was on morning patrol from 5am to 1pm.

You sat up and stretched your arms overhead, yawning and smiling contently as you looked around your shared bedroom. Bright sunlight was streaming through the white curtains, illuminating the All Might poster on the far wall and shelf full of Katsuki’s All Might merch and trading card collections.

Groaning, you rose from the bed and went to the bathroom to brush your teeth and shower. Afterwards, you made yourself a cup of tea and sat on the plush chair in the corner of your shared bedroom, pulling out your journal and writing down the dream you had last night. All was quiet, until your phone started buzzing like crazy. Every second a new notification sounded, sending your phone into a vibrating fit on the dresser. Annoyed and confused by this, you put your journal and pen on the table beside you and walked over to pick up your phone.

You had several missed phone calls by unknown numbers, as well as your friend and pro hero Mina. Bakugou had introduced you two shortly after you two started dating, and you and the pink girl had hit it off immediately. You unlocked your phone, seeing an alarming amount of unread messages. You opened the messenger app and scrolled, clicking on Mina’s chat. Not bothering to read her gazillion messages, you clicked on the phone icon up the top and waited for her to pick your call.

It was only on the second ring when her voice shouted into the microphone, “[Y/n]! [Y/n]-CHAN, ARE YOU THERE?!” You began saying ‘yes’ when she continued, “HAVE YOU SEEN IT?? Everyone’s talking about it!” You shake your head, brows now knit together and eyes narrowing, “Seen what?” Mina gasped, “YOU HAVEN’T SEEN IT?!” You had to pull the phone away from your ear. “No, Mina, I haven—”

“I’LL SEND IT TO YOU RIGHT NOW! THERE ARE TONS OF ARTICLES BUT THIS ONE IS THE ARTICLE!” Your brows only furrow further together. “Mina, what artic—” “OKAY, I sent it to you. NOW, GO READ IT!!” You chose to laugh, knowing that although Mina can be a bit over the top sometimes, she has your best interest at heart. You thank her and hang up the call, returning to the chat and clicking on the link she just texted you.

It takes you to an article titled ‘”Boobs too big.” Dynamight Challenges Standard Sizing of Hero Merch in Latest Release.’ Your jaw drops. Your eyes are glued to the screen as you read:

On a quiet Friday night, Dynamight reveals his true inspiration for making pro hero merch’s first ever plus size underwear range. Not even the previous Symbol of Peace ‘All Might’ attempted to tackle such a challenge. In fact, Dynamight is one of only a handful of pro heroes to ever release official underwear merchandise in history.

In his interview with Juko News, Dynamight explains how he wanted to create merchandise that was comfortable, flattering, and high quality for fans. He said, “I work with the team to design every piece… We [Dynamight’s design team] outsource construction and once that’s done, we test every size and make sure each item is good enough to sell.”

Now, this isn’t anything new. Ever since Dyanmight began selling official merchandise, he’s always had a hand in the creative process. But now, Dynamight admits that it was his long-term partner, [L/n] [Y/n] who is the reason why he’s expanded this new merch range to underwear and larger sizes. The pro hero said, “She’s always complainin’ about her bras not fitting right. It’s not her fault that her boobs are too big. Tch, why not design and make something she’ll actually like?”

Were you actually reading this? Did… did Bakugou actually say, on camera, that your boobs were “too big”. You were going to give it to him tonight.

Your eyes skim read the rest of the article. Struggles for larger-chested women in Japan; Dynamight is more than just a hero; call to action for other heroes to make larger sizes; excitement around re-stocking and future merch.

You put down your phone and walked back over to your chair, collapsing in it like you had just done crossfit or something. You couldn’t help but start giggling, which turned into full-blown teary, stomach-aching laughter. Bakugou was the love of your life, even if he was a bit rough and brash at times, he cares. And you know that when he said those things, he really did mean it with your best interest at heart. But he doesn’t need to know that you know that last part yet, yea?

if they were househusbands

denki, izuku, tamaki x fem!reader⋆｡°✩ — fluff, tama's is a bit suggestive, kinda hcs, 870 words

kaminari denki

100% a househusband

not exactly unemployed ⟶ he’s tryna be a pro gamer and with you being the breadwinner, he picks up the slack around the house

kinda ends up being a part-time gamer (cause i’m not so sure about those skills making him a pro) just because of how hard it is to balance gaming and keeping your home in order

does he do the chores well, though? i would imagine that he tries to bake muffins or banana bread for you but it ends up getting burnt; he tries to fix one of the lights but then short circuits the entire house; he makes the leaking tap ten times worse so you have to call bakugou over to fix it

apologises profusely after setting the kitchen curtains on fire and buys you new ones that you absolutely love

he would look so cute in his lil apron that you got him for his bday!!!!!!!

you’re sitting on the couch, watching with a smirk as denki pulls a frilly, pink and white waist apron out of the gift bag you got him. his golden eyes are wide as he stares at the garment. he’s holding it up in the air, gaze flicking between you and the apron.

he stutters, “what-what the fuck?” you burst out into laughter as he just stares at you, thumbing the frills. you bend over as you laugh, your hand on his knee, unable to contain yourself.

denki places the apron down on his lap and says, “what am i to you? a maid?” you nod, your hand in front of your mouth as you continue to laugh at him.

once you calm down and wipe the tears from your eyes, you say, “don’t you like it?” you try to pout but your giggles make it nearly impossible.

denki sighs, “only a maid for my beautiful, sexy wife.” you notice his adorable pout, his blond brows furrowed. you lean over and wrap your arms around his shoulders, planting a big smooch on his cheek.

“all mine,” you taunt in his reddening ear. he gently pushes you off, causing you to laugh as you lean back. “try it on!” you squeal in excitement. at that, denki’s face reddens. he looks at you, mortified by the thought of how he’s about to humiliate himself for his wife. he gulps and grumbles about how stupid this is, how mean you are. but it doesn’t stop him from slipping the apron around his slutty waist and tying it in a bow at the back.

you stare at him, checking him out shamelessly as he does a little twirl for you. “happy now?” he pouts. you nod enthusiastically.

“very happy.”

midoriya izuku

househusband because he got injured during hero work

you tell him to take it slow and rest but he’s up early every day, making you lunch for work and putting on a load of laundry

he’s the successful househusband ⟶ great at all of the chores; never leaves a mess, not a speck of dust to be seen, nothing out of place

during the winter, he’ll throw your work clothes in the dryer so that when you get dressed, they’re still toasty; he’ll place a beanie on your head and even put your mittens on for you

when you come home from work, dinner’s on the table and izuku is greeting you with a sweet kiss; he takes your bag from you and asks you about your day while leading you to the bedroom to get changed

if you’re tense, then he’ll give you a massage and shower with you

“come and sit, honey,” izuku coos to you. he pats the spot next to him on the couch. you shake your head and try to tell him you’re fine, but he insists. sighing, you plop down on the couch next to him. he tells you to turn and face away from him and so you do. then, you feel his warm, large hands on your shoulders and upper back, kneading the tender muscles. you let out a sigh of relief and ease into his touch, letting him take away the stress of your day.

he ends up convincing you to take off your top so he can have better access to your upper back and, therefore, give you a better massage. and your pure-intentioned boy is true to his word, his fingers and palms pressing into your soft flesh and soothing you. after he’s worked your shoulders, he adjusts your body so that you’re sitting facing forward. he gets down on the floor and props your foot up on his knee. he repeats the process, helping you relax with those perfect hands and their relieving rhythm across your skin.

he kisses your ankles, shins, and calves, working his way up to your knees. you giggle as your hand threads through his curly green locks. you let him wrap his arms around you and carry you off to the bathroom, setting you down on the cold tiles and helping you undress. you two get into the shower and he lathers your body in body wash, sprinkling little kisses here and there before rinsing it off.

you sigh into the crook of his neck, “thanks for taking such good care of me.”

he hums in response and says, “always, honey.”

amajiki tamaki

idk about this twink

he’s giving shy cutie who does all of the laundry and makes the most delicious meals for you

he’s also great at gardening ⟶ you have the most beautiful garden in the neighbourhood because of this man and his quirk; he spends his days wrangling those weeds and planting pretty flowers and vegetables and fruits

of course, he uses your homegrown produce in your meals, making it taste amazing and extra special because of all the hard work he put into cultivating them

he would also make you the cutest bentos!!!!! like with the tako sausages and star-shaped fruit and veg ⟶ makes literal edible art just for his beautiful wife

i think he would always be trying new recipes and dishes and sharing them with you ⟶ like every friday, he’ll cook something new and won’t try it until you get home and try it with him

“tama, i’m home!” you call as you enter your home. you slip off your shoes, the scent of something savoury and delicious filling your nose. you walk into the kitchen and find your husband stirring a pot on the stove. you skip over to him and plant a kiss on his cheek, making him flinch in surprise. he lets go of the wooden spoon and looks at you with wide eyes, red dusting his cheeks.

“i didn’t hear you,” he says quietly, averting his gaze from yours.

you giggle and say, “did you miss me?” he nods furiously and returns to stirring the pot. you ask him what he’s cooking, and he tells you he’s making a soup from a magazine he read. you nod and leave him be.

for dinner, he serves you the most yummy soup you’ve had yet. with wide eyes, you tell him just how good it tastes, and he murmurs that he’s glad you like it. you two talk about your days, tama listening quietly to you rant about work drama. afterwards, you help him clean up.

you stand next to him, drying the dishes that he washes. after setting a plate down, you lean over and whisper in his ear, “maybe i’ll have to show you how much i like your cooking, tama.” you pull back, giggling and feeling cocky once you see that familiar blush rise to his cheeks and ears.

he glances at you every so often, watching his perfect angel dry the dishes and put them away. he quickly looks away once you bend over or reach up, your ass far too round or your tank top riding up and exposing a strip of your soft skin. you can’t wipe that shit-eating grin off of your face. you’re well aware of how he’s watching you, and you like how nervous you make him.

it takes some convincing but eventually, you let him know just how much he and his cooking, his taking care of your home, means to you.

reading up I’m prep for this omegaverse series I’m probably about to write🙏 this is so fire!!

Homie Hopper!

College MHA boys x f! reader!

In which after getting your little heart broken, you get passed around your local University’s hottest friend group! Everyone needs those slutty College years!

Smut Series! Pt 2 Senior Year! Coming soon!

A/N: I would just like to make it clear that I do not condone some of the behaviors in this series! It is a bit problematic, but it is all just for funsies! Solely for entertainment purposes so just keep that in mind. Also i love sero can you tell. Anyways, enjoy!

Cw: SMUTTT!, lots of different kinks n stuff, sub! Denki, name calling, p in v, reader has female anatomy, reader essentially gets passed around

Katsuki Bakugo as The Shit Talker!

- Katsuki Bakugo is the one who started it all, your hot neighbor who threw parties your ex boyfriend never let you go to. Bakugo always gave you shit for it, saying you were ‘too young and pretty to be tied down’.

- As fucked up as it sounds, he gets excited one day when he spots you getting home super late one night in an oversized hoodie with mascara stained cheeks. And he considers just marching right across the hall when he notices you took all the posts and highlights of that fucker down on your insta.

- He’s even more excited when you finally show up to one of his parties. That is until you get wasted way too fast because you haven’t been out in years and end up crying over your shitty ex boyfriend.

- Katsuki Bakugo, who lets you make it up to him the next day by using you like a toy.

- Bakugo, who says the nastiest things when he’s deep inside of you.

“All my friends wanna fuck you, you know? But I get to go first”

“Can’t believe you were hiding this slutty pussy from us this long”

“Always knew you were a fucking slut”

“Your loser boyfriend ever fuck you like this?”

“Stop mph! fucking running from it!”

-He has your face pressed into the mattress, a hand on your head and one of his feet planted flat on the cushion. You’re drooling due to the way he drills into you, fucking you like he hates you.

- You guess you should have expected him to be so rough. Tough exterior and all but this is so much more than you could have ever imagined. He does not even give you a second to breathe, constantly snatching every bit of air from your lungs with each powerful thrust.

-His headboard bangs against the wall obnoxiously, he warns you not to hide your pretty little noises either or else says he’ll fuck them out of you. He even tells you to shut the fuck up when you whine about your neighbors-or Kiri.

-Katsuki Bakugo who has you in a headlock when you finally cum, back pressed tightly against his front as he thrusts up into you. His free hand pinching and rubbing your clit furiously. “Cum f'me pretty, then I can fill you up till it's coming out yer fucking mouth". His words are enough to make you gush around him, tight pussy squeezing him like a vice. But he’s not done talking shit yet, of course not.

"Better not waste a fuckin' drop. Maybe Kiri'll wanna fuck it back into you. He’s into nasty shit like that"

- Your cry out at his words, his finger remains at your clit but now rubbing at a much slower pace which ensures you let out small whines every few seconds. Still fucking into you so brutally your body begins to tremble. "You like that? Dirty fucking girl, want us to share this sloppy pussy?"

"Mm yes! P-please! Won't tell anyone" You nod frantically, a part of you so fucked out you are unaware of what you're saying. This is so unlike you, truly.

Bakugo's dick made you go dumb, fucking stupid actually. It sets the catalyst for a series of the most unhinged decisions of your life.

-It feels like little explosions eat up his entire body as his seed finally shoots inside you, there's so much it has already begun to leak out. "No, no, no! Keep it in there!" He slaps your ass and lets you finally fall back down into the mattress.

You're a crying mess, you don't even notice it. But he does, of course. Grabbing your (face) cheeks and squeezing with one hand. "Aw pretty girl, you cryin already?"

- Katsuki Bakugo, who is being a complete hypocrite, he's fucked out already too, fucking himself into overstimulation currently as he fucks his own cum back into you. "Such a crybaby. M'not even done with you yet"

Ejirou Kirishima as The Big Boy!

-Ejirou Kirishima-Katsuki’s roomate who invites you over to his parents house (who are out of town) so the two of you can ‘workout’ in their home gym. One month after what took place with his best friend.

-You can’t help but remember the blonde’s words, something about the red-haired man fucking his cum back into you. He wouldn’t, would he?

-He’s such a sweetheart! He opens and closes the car door for you, makes you a protein shake with his own recipe! Even brings you a little snack and tells you how pretty you look in your gym set! The man has even offered to take you and your roomate’s trash out before because ‘ladies shouldn’t be walking around by themselves at night’. He’s just such a gentleman, you can’t imagine him doing anything nasty in his life.

-Ejirou Kirishima who works out for all of about twelve minutes before lifting you up against the wall and gives you the most passionate and sensual make out session you have ever experienced.

-He moans against your lips sweetly, going down to kiss every inch of skin within reach.

-Ejirou Kirishima-who has the biggest, fattest cock you have ever seen in your life. It almost scares you because how the hell is that going to fit?!

He notices your worries, softly smooching the corner of your lips. “You can do it pretty girl, I know you can” His hand gropes your ass, a harsh contradiction to his sweet voice. “Bakugo says you’re a good girl, huh?”

-He manages to bully his fat member inside of you. The stretch is delicious yet painful. You squeal as he sinks deeper, nails digging into his bare shoulder.

“Shit baby you’re so tight for me” The man exhales loudly, hot breath hitting your bare skin. “Wanna hear you scream”

-Ejirou Kirishima, whose wish is answered when he finally picks up the pace. The ease in which he fucks you, holding your weight up entirely only adds to the experience.

-He’s just so strong and big. It makes your ankles cross and eyes roll to the back of your head. He’s so proud of it too-as he should be. He works very hard to maintain such a physique, he does it not only for himself but for pretty girls like you.

It’s obviously working, whimpers and whines escape your lips. Mouth stuck in a constant ’o’ shape and eyebrows furrowed. “S-so big! Fuck!” You cry, giving your very best attempt to bounce back on him. But it’s hard, almost every signal in your body is telling you to push away. It’s too much, the pain of his fat tip smushing against your walls. Yet another part deep within had you convinced that you can take it.

-You open your eyes to catch a glimpse of the sinful sight through the wall length mirror. His frame is so large you are hardly able to make yourself out, whole body covering yours. His back muscles on full display, you watch them move under his skin. The back of his bulging biceps accompanied by little grunts. “So strong Kiri ohmygodd! So good so good, so big!”

-“You like when i use you like a little dolly?” You nod, unable to speak even if you tried. “Love this big dick, huh?”

“Yes! Yes!” You are screaming at this point, in a way you have never done before. You had no idea this amount of pleasure was even possible. You should have been single a looong time ago. “Love it s’much!”

-“Cum on this dick gorgeous! Make a mess please!” He’s so cute, he still says please.

And you’re such a good girl that you just have to do what you’re told-juices gushing all over his abs and dripping down his thighs.

-Ejirou Kirishima who kisses the ache in your thighs before fucking you again in the hot tub. And then in his childhood bedroom.

Hanta Sero as The One Who Talks You Through It!

- Hanta Sero, who somehow becomes your smoking buddy after being paired up with you on a project. He was so funny and cute and you just had to get his snapchat!

-Hanta Sero, who knows his friends had already fucked you but doesn’t really care who came first or second. He just wants you…..bad.

- After a couple smoke sessions he decides to just go for it, glossy red eyes taking in your entire figure as he moves closer. Grabbing your chin and kissing you skillfully, tongue rolling against yours.

- Hanta Sero, who has you in his lap, chin resting on your shoulder with your legs spread wiiide. His legs trap you on either side so you are unable to move and squirm away the way your body tells you to. You have no choice but to take his long digits that are furiously fingering your cunt.

You’re a moaning mess, head thrown back against his chest as he coos in your ear, talking your head (more like pussy!) off. “Ahhh does it feel good mamas?”

Brushing a piece of hair out of your face he continues, strong thighs still keeping yours in place. “Such a pretty little princess pussy”

- Most moments you have no idea what he is even saying, every single one of his words goes straight down there. “So messy” His hand places a firm, wet smack! against your soaked core. “Hear how wet you are for me?” He continues to finger you, picking up the pace with an almost obnoxious squelching noise that accompanies his every move.

The vibrations of his movements shoot up your body, his fingers feel robotic with the way they do not falter. And then he starts curling them to brush against that sweet spot.

It’s not much longer after when you squirt all over his fingers and sheets with a loud cry. And he is sure to maintain eye contact when he brings his hand up to lick clean of all your juices, muttering something about how sweet you taste.

- Hanta Sero, who has you on your back a minute later-one hand on the headboard and the other keeps him steady as he pounds into you, lazy red eyes stuck on all of the faces you make. The way your titties bounce with his thrusts. You’re driving him crazy.

-“Fuck, Fuck princesa. You feel how deep I am?” You only nod, his long curved dick takes the words out of your mouth. “M’in your fuckin’ guts”

-He brings his body down to get closer to you, arms hooking beneath your shoulders to bring you closer to him. One of his hands pushes your head down to force you to watch his sloppy thrusts with the way he slams! you down on his cock.

-Hanta Sero who gets excited when you finally have the energy and brain capacity to talk, telling him all about how good he is. “So deep Hanta….can feel you in my tummy” You pout and it makes his dick twitch. You’re too fucking cute.

He almost regrets putting a condom on, he wishes he could feel the real thing. Make no mistake though, he is enjoying himself to the point where his toes begin to curl as he blabbers nonsense. “Taking it so good for me baby, such a good princess”

-His dick is firmly pressed against the spot you need it the most. You are unable to stop the squeals and whimpers coming from deep within, sloppily rocking your hips against him. He takes notice of this, locking his hips to continue to rub against the spongy walls that make you cry out like this. “Let it out mamas, wanna see you cum again”

- You don’t need much encouragement to coax the orgasm out of you-one that is mind-melting and makes your insides feel fuzzy. “Mm Hanta! Cumming f’you baby”

- Hanta Sero, who moans so loudly when he feels your walls spasming around him. He has to grab onto your hair for comfort-you’re practically choking his dick.

- Hanta Sero, who leans in close to whisper in your ear as you flutter around him. “Just like that baby” He kisses your cheek, a sweet gesture which is quite opposite to the mean snap of his hips. “Come on, come on give me more”.

- He’s practically snatching your soul out of your body, your mouth agape and wide as your body trembles, listening to his words. “Just a lil bit more mama, I know you can do it”

“C-cant!” You squeal but your legs betray you, locking themselves around his hips, he couldn’t move much even if he wanted to. So he uses the opportunity to do slow, exaggerated thrusts into you.

Tears prick your eyes as you do nothing but take it and whine. Hanta keeps on talking though. “Shhh it’s okay mamas….I know you can take it” And then he squishes your cute little face in his hand. “Right? You gonna take more f’me?”

-“Y-yeah”

- Hanta Sero, who is such a blabbermouth that you should not be surprised to find out how talkative he is during sex. Who continues to let you know you are welcome over any time and sends you the filthiest text messages. Ones you respond to with cute little emojis letting him know you’ll be on the way.

Denki Kaminari as ‘The Munch!’

- Denki Kaminari, who feels left out as he is the only one in the friend group who hasn’t fucked you! The other guys have nothing but good things to say about you and even still consider you to be a friend! So why can’t he have a taste? He’s the one who pointed you out to them in the first place!

- Denki Kaminari, who finds himself sitting next to you one night at a end of year party. The two of you being DD’s for the night, which means you are the only sober ones. And you talk for hours, seeing as you’ve known each other since freshman year and have remained relatively close since then. Which means he’s not afraid to ask.

“So what’s wrong with me?”

“Huh?”

“You fucked all my friends and not me? I’m hurt!” He sounds genuine, a hand placing itself atop his chest in offense. “Is it something I did?”

“Shut up!” You grumble, taking a hit off of his puff. “And no! Of course not!” You chuckle, blowing out the smoke directly in his face. “Just didn’t know you even thought of me that way”

- Denki Kaminari, who scoffs at your words. And here he was thinking it was obvious. Even back when you had a boyfriend he would always tell you that he could treat you better but you always thought he was joking! He was a jokester, that was like his thing!

- Denki Kaminari, who is deadly serious when he leans in closer to ensure you hear his every word perfectly.

“M’not hotheaded and ripped like Bakugo. Or big and strong like Kirishima. Or as tall as Sero or nearly as charming”

“You think Sero’s charming?” You laugh.

“Dude’s got game” Denki loves the way you giggle. “But I got something none of those fuckers do”

“Mm?” You raise an eyebrow curiously, a sweet smile on your face as you lean in closer. Lips mere inches away from him. “What’s that?”

“Promise my tongue is better than any of those assholes. Can make you see stars using just my mouth” He speaks so smugly, so confident.

It’s the most attractive he’s ever looked.

- You take him up on his offer, letting him lead you to an empty room upstairs where he doesn’t even wait for the door to click before smashing his lips against yours. Hungry hands grab at your waist and ass, then your tits and hair.

-Denki Kaminari, who keeps true to his word and has you seeing stars in a matter of minutes. Whose hands are holding yours as his face is nuzzled into your heat, breathing in your scent as his tongue works its magic Whose dick twitches every time you squeeze his hands and every time you try to let go he grabs it back, interlocking your fingers with his.

- His tongue swirls circles around your clit, causing your hips to bump up against his face-which makes him moan into your folds. Pulling apart for a second to admire the glossy mess before diving right back in

-Denki Kaminari, who is almost pathetic with the way he slurps you up like he is starving for your pussy. Constantly moaning into it as if he is getting any kind of relief out of it. Oh but he is, he could stay between your thighs for hours.

Whose skilled tongue somehow knows all the right places, eventually he has you rocking against his face as the only thing audible besides your loud desperate moans are the even more desperate slurps coming from him.

- He fucks you with his tongue until he is so deep that it makes him gag. But he does not stop, not even when his dick begins to ache from how hard it is. He fucks you with bis tongue until it hurts and you are a shaking mess, having finished three times already. No fingers involved.

-Denki Kaminari, who somehow convinces you to ride him into oblivion afterwards, shaky legs and all.

- His whines are so pathetic and hot that it unlocks something deep within you. A feeling you had never experienced before. Causing you to go rough on him, pulling his hair and whining when he begs you to do it harder! You aren’t sure who’s moaning more between the two of you.

- Denki Kaminari, who has shivers go up his spine whenever you dig your nails into his biceps, hips bouncing up and down as if your life depends on it. “Please scratch me up baby! Feels s’good”

- You even choke him a bit which is a thing you had never done before but just felt so right in the moment. The way he moans confirms that he enjoys it just as much as you did.

- When he cums, he cums hard, thick ropes spurting out into the condom as he moans freely. His hips rock up into you for more stimulation as he rides out his high.

“Oh shittt didn’t know you were such a freak Y/N!” Denji jokes, poking you in the side and you giggle.

He moans at the way you clench around him when you laugh. It makes him want to make you laugh more.

- Denki Kaminari, who showed you just how much you enjoy whiny subby men!

- And even to this day the whole friend group does a double take when you walk by, always offering to do stuff for you or hold open doors. (Except Bakugo of course). But they all make it more than obvious you are welcome into their beds anytime.

rut suppressants pt.2

alpha!todoroki shoto x omega!fem!reader⋆｡°✩ — angst, fluff, talk of kids, in the shower, 2.1k

pt.1

The next week is a haze. You’re constantly out of breath, panting and mewing and moaning and squealing and screaming and all the rest of it. Your body belongs to your mate and he’s playing with it, moving it, folding it however he likes. And you couldn’t ask for anything more.

You two become one in a mix of sweat and fluids gushing and dripping onto any surface (un)fortunate enough to be touched by your passion. Bed, dresser, floor, island bench, couch, shower walls, balcony doors. He’s got you covered in his fingertips, stained black and blue. Hickeys paint the expanse of your neck, chest, and thighs. Not even your arms or hips are safe from his assault. And you love it.

Of course, you had to call in sick from work for next week. The reason you rasped out quickly over the phone to your boss while Shoto was drawing you back beneath the covers, was that you’re mate was “awfully unwell” and you had to “take care of him.” And taking care of him, you sure were. If the presentation went well? Who knows, who cares. It hasn’t crossed your mind since he had taken your phone from your hand and threw it across the room, onto the floor.

It was now day eight. The late morning sunlight was filtering into your mess of a bedroom. You were clammy with sweat and other fluids. Your body was pressed against Shoto’s side, arms wrapped around his torso. His warm arm is draped lazily around your shoulders, while his cold hand is resting atop yours just below his pecs.

You had woken up first, using the first few minutes to take in the sight that was your alpha. His mouth hung slightly open, soft snores coming from his rising and falling chest. His white and red locks were tangled and matted to his pale forehead. You waited patiently, watching to see if those long lashes would flutter, and if his eyes would open… but, they didn’t.

Chuckling quietly to yourself, you slowly remove yourself from his grasp, which is no easy feat, seeing as you were quite small compared to him. It took about ten minutes for you to finally drag his arm off you; it had tightened when you started to move, leading you to freeze up and wait it out, until his arm relaxed. You wobbled on your feet.

This is the first time you’ve stood on your own and tried to walk in days. You limp over to the bathroom, the ache in your inner thighs, your hips, your back, arms, everywhere, making it hard to walk properly. Once in the bathroom, your hands grasp the sink-top. Looking into the mirror, you see your own reflection staring back at you. Dark under-eyes; knotty [h/c] locks, some clinging to your ears and cheeks, others to your temples; the artwork his mouth had left behind all over your chest and shoulders. This man… You sighed.

Taking it slow, you make your way into the shower and turn on the hot water, than the cold. You wait for it to reach that perfect temperature before getting under and moaning with delight. The warmth washes away the stickiness on your skin and eases your sore muscles. It soaks into every part of your body, and all you can do is just stand there, palms against the little blue square tiles, eyes closed, and enjoy the sensation.

Soon enough, you’ve shampooed your hair and now let the condition sit in it, long hair in a makeshift bun. You’re rinsing off the suds from your skin when a pair of arms wrap around your waist. One hot, the other icy.

“Shoto!” You exclaim. You were surprised that he had woken up so soon, and even a bit saddened that you wouldn’t have more time to yourself before getting railed again.

“Hey,” your mate mumbles sleepily into your shoulder.

You lean back into him and turn around, placing your hands on his muscular shoulders. He hasn’t shifted. He’s just resting his forehead against your neck. He always does this whenever you’re cuddling. He’s thinking of what to say next, so you stay quiet and give him as much time as he needs to think. Seeing his usual quietness return, you let out a breath you didn’t realise you had been holding in and smile. Your fingers run themselves through his locks mindlessly, dampening them.

You’re curling your fingers in the hair at his nape when he speaks, “I’m sorry.” Your brows furrow and lips pout. You pull back from him slightly, lifting his face up so that you can see that look in his eyes. Guilt. But why?

“Why are you apologising? You didn’t do anything wrong,” you say more quietly than you had intended to, the words coming out barely above a whisper. The running water almost blocks them out.

“For all of this,” he says. He removes his cold arm from your lower back, long fingers pointing to all of the hickeys and bite-marks covering your décolletage.

You giggle, “Don’t be.” You run your fingers behind his ears. “I don’t mind.”

He shakes his head, dismissing what you’ve said. “No, you should mind. I can’t do this to you again, [y/n].” He averts his gaze, turning his head to the side. You guide his focus back towards you, much preferring those angelic, heterochromatic eyes on you than on the shower wall.

“Shoto, babe, I don’t understand what you’re saying," you say, forehead creased.

“You should be angry with me for how I’ve treated you this past week. I’ve been so rough with you. I haven’t been taking good enough care of you. I—”

You pressed your finger to his lips, shutting him up. “But I’m not angry with you. Well, a little over lying to me about your ruts.” You cock your head to the side, taking in that extra guilty look he’s got now.

Giggling, you continue, “But honestly, this past week has been one of my favourite weeks ever! Even more than the week we were staying at that beach villa. Do you remember that?” You grin wide, slowly removing your finger from his lips.

He nods in response, “But—”

“There is no ‘but’. I liked it and I hope you did to.” He brought you back into him, his forehead going back to it’s resting place on the side of your neck. His lips brush your mating mark.

He sighs, “I didn’t want you to see me like that.”

“Why not?” You can’t help but sound hurt. He’s your mate, your alpha, your husband… your best friend. Why wouldn’t he want you to know all of him the way he knows all of you so intimately?

“’Cause,” he mutters, “it’s shameful.”

“Getting batshit crazy to protect and screw your mate? I don’t think so. It happens to all alphas.” You laugh a little before continuing, “I hate to break it to you, but your not that special, pretty boy.” Looks like your massive ego has returned.

He chuckles all raspy into your neck, his warm breath fanning your skin, incomparable to the steam gathering around your bodies. “’Not that special’?” He pulls back and steps away from you, taking his cold and his heat. His eyes stare at you in disbelief, face painfully far from yours.

“Nope,” you smirk. You look up into his eyes, right brow slightly raised, daring him to take it further.

But, he doesn’t fall for it. Or at least, not yet. “You’re saying that I’m ‘not that special’?” You nod in agreement. “Hmm, you’re right. I’m not that special. But that doesn’t mean I want to hurt you every time I rut.”

Fuck, he still feels guilty. You look away, already wishing that you could skip the rest of the conversation and get to the part where you’re making out again. “Babe, look, I told you, I like it when you’re rough with me, okay? I like it when your slow. I like it when your romantic. I like it whenever you touch me, so please don’t feel so guilty about it.”

He still doesn’t look convinced.

“Honestly. I mean…” You trail off, thinking of a way to get it through to him that being aggressive and horny asf is a normal alpha thing and not a self-discipline problem. “Okay okay, do you think that I’m some horny, pathetic slut when I’m in my heat?”

“Of course I don’t,” he frowns disapprovingly.

“It’s the same thing!” You say, your hands flying up to his chest as you take a step closer. “I get super clingy, you get super protective, and we both wanna bang each other. There’s no shame in that.”

You’re on your tip-toes, leaning up towards him. He looks so hot when he’s mad, you can’t help but want to kiss him. He sighs and obliges, leaning down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss, hands back on your body, exploring conquered territory. You two stay like that for a little. Shoto moving to place small kisses on your nose, cheeks, eye lids, and forehead, before coming back to your lips. Much to your disappointment, he finally pulls back, cupping your cheeks and gazing deeply into your eyes.

“You never told me where you put my suppressants.” You groan, rolling your eyes involuntarily. Not this shit again. Don’t tell me he wants to start taking that cr—

“I’m not going to take them, there’s no use now. But please, tell me where you put them.” He wraps his fingers around your chin, bringing your focus back to him.

You shake your head ‘no’. He sighs in response, resting his forehead against yours and closing his eyes. You follow suit.

“Please.” You’re such a sucker for when he pleads.

Huffing, you give up the secret location, “They’re in the dresser, top drawer, beneath my underwear.”

No response. It’s quiet between you two for three seconds too long. Shoto questions, “But why?”

“Why’re they beneath my underwear?”

“No. Why did you take them?”

You bite the side of your lip, pondering if you should tell him why you really took them or not. You don’t have to think for long though, the flesh slipping out from your teeth. “I took them because I’ve never seen you rut before. And, um well, yea I just got a bit concerned, you know?” Your alpha removes his forehead from yours.

Tilting his head to the side, he asks “Concerned about what?”

“Well, um, you know—” It falls quiet between you two for another minute or two. The water hitting the shower tiles is the only sound permeating the tension.

“No, I don’t know.”

“Shoto,” you huff. “You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you?” You pout. He continues looking at you adorably, confused.

You sigh, “Fine. I was worried that maybe you were on rut suppressants because you didn’t wanna have kids with me.” You got real quiet at the end there, averting your gaze to look down at your feet. Did Shoto always have such big feet? They look pretty massive compared to your own right n—

“You thought that I didn’t want to have kids with you?” He slid his hands to your waist, the similar sensation calming you. You looked back up at him, seeing that he had leaned back down now, your noses almost brushing.

You nodded, “Yea. You know, I-I thought that straight after we got married we would start trying but… we just, um, we just didn’t.”

You were biting your lip again. A nervous habit. A nervous habit Shoto loves. He brings his thumb to your lower lip, pulling it out from the clutches of your teeth. He watches as the flesh perfectly rounds. Sighing, he presses his lips to yours. The kiss is tender, but deep. Tongues are swirling, hands seeking more and more of each other’s bodies, little moans escaping here and there. He pulls away slowly, saliva connecting your lips before snapping with the distance.

“I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to make you doubt our future together. I just didn’t want you to see me like that.”

“I know,” you nod as you caress his cheeks with the pads of your thumbs, gently brushing over the edges of his scar. It’s quiet for a little as you two just take in this moment.

“Why don’t we start trying then? When our cycles sync up we can—” You squeal excitedly.

Grabbing onto his shoulders, you exclaim, “Why don’t we start trying now?!” You’re grinning from ear-to-ear.

“O-oh oka—” You cut him off, smashing your lips back together...

Let’s just say that your attempt at creating new life today seemed very promising.