#🗑. aali’s chatroom

[tteokdoroki]

I posted 8,955 times in 2022

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I tagged 8,468 of my posts in 2022

Only 5% of my posts had no tags

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Longest Tag: 140 characters

#i love how you made their relationship sort of.. two people who loved someone a lot dancing around their grief while caring about each other

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

your wife’s calling. | t.amajiki. ʚ !! ɞ

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3,763 notes - Posted February 3, 2022

#4

i-izuku getting pent up ‘cause he hasn’t had time to jerk off lately. gets distracted so easily when you come around, barely heard a word you say he’s so deep in thought about taking you on his desk, in the agency showers, on his bed, on his floor. maybe he’s even a little rowdier. a little meaner to his hero partner (katsuki) n’ maybe even you if you push his buttons enough.

it all comes to a head when he gets caught up in some sex pollen explosion and you’re so pushy about helping him. he’s not gonna be nice about it, he can’t be.

+ warnings: afab!reader, rough!deku, he’s so mean :(, size-kink, some dub-con i think </3

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4,218 notes - Posted May 6, 2022

#3

— my darling, be selfish. + diluc ragnivindr.

— author’s note: this is for my baby sowa @usoratonkachi the only one i love bye

— warning(s): smut, mdni 18+, heavy!somno, unprotected sex, oral sex (fem!receiving), creampies, love making hehe, praise, fem!reader.

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4,246 notes - Posted July 22, 2022

#2

streamer dreamer. | k.bakugou. ʚ !! ɞ

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4,427 notes - Posted February 26, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

OCTOBER 1ST. VENOM 

"eyes. lungs. pancreas. so many snacks, so little time."

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5,340 notes - Posted October 1, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[tteokdoroki]

soulmate!au, gn!reader and reader has a beauty mark on their top lip.

bakugou helps an old lady to her taxi car while on patrol, carrying her groceries with ease as if they weigh nothing to him.

spoiler alert, they don’t.

he sets up her bags in the boot of the car, mindful of the eggs and careful of the bread to make sure they don’t get crushed amongst the other things she passes to him to put away. when they’re done, bakugou reaches up high so the old lady doesn’t have to and closes the door to the trunk.

“you have a beauty mark on your hand, dear.” she comments with a wobbling and homely voice. “one just under your ear too.”

“hah? what d’they matter?” he asks her, keeping it polite as mitsuki’s berating voice from his childhood reminds bakugou to respect his elders—even as the big-shot pro hero he is now.

the old woman smiles, all crows feet eyes and and wrinkles. “they’re all the places your soulmate’s meant to have kissed.”

bakugou flushes red, heat burning right up to the tips of his ears as he thumbs the honey coloured spot just underneath the right one— a kiss from his soulmate.

he ends his duties with the very thought on his mind, wondering how lucky he is to have been kissed by someone destined to be with him. katsuki discovers more than one beauty mark as he showers after patrol— one high on his shoulder, two in a funny formation on his inner left wrist. there’s another on the column of his throat, his collarbones and kirishima notices a couple laid across his back like sun spots on a bright day.

“i’ve missed you.”

you welcome katsuki home as you always do— like he’s been gone for years and you’re finally being reunited with him. even though you saw him this morning and nearly scratched his eyes out for replacing your coffee with a green tea to help your tummy ache.

he’s barely through the door as his red eyes track your movements, pupils dilating when you wrap your arms around the bulkier hero’s frame and stand up on your tip toes to press a feather light kiss to bakugou’s throat, right where a beauty mark of his lies. your lips trace upward to behind his right ear, leaving several smaller smooches along his collarbones.

they’re all the places your soulmate’s meant to have kissed.

katsuki bristles with realisation, heart shaking with tremors of love as you show him such kindness and tenderness for a man who’s outline is a little rough. he cups your face softly, not giving you a chance to back away, not wanting to let the moment go to waste and captures your lips in a searing kiss. one that pours the words he can’t always say into you, filling you with affection and adoration.

and when he pulls back, you’re happy and hazy and katsuki notices the tiny dot, the beauty mark on the cupid’s bow of your lip.

“i’ve been missin’ you all my life.” he says back, simply.

[tteokdoroki]

you take a shirt from katsuki when you’re pregnant enough to start showing.

the black material has faded to a washed out grey, there’s a hole in the collar and the skull on the front has almost peeled completely off. you find the shirt when he’s out for patrol and you’re just touching four months a long— it smells like him, it’s still soft and it reminds you of your younger days back at U.A. the ones where you and bakugou pretended to hate each other despite how hard you were secretly crushing on him.

you deem it the pregnancy shirt.

that old skull t-shirt becomes one of your go-tos when you’re pregnant— when you need comfort, when you’re too tired to change, bakugou always makes sure it’s within your reach. he always reaches for it when he’s helping you change after a long day out with your in-laws too as he takes off your sandals and massages your swollen ankles. katsuki always pushes the fabric of the worn out shirt over your bump when you start to show more, kissing where your belly button is as he chatters sweet nothings to your baby, telling them how much he loves them— katsuki freezes, you freeze too when you feel a light flurry of tiny hands and feet push at your bump from underneath the fabric. and it’s the shirt you pull on when you make bakugou drive you to the nearest convince store for ice cream at five in the morning.

“it’s the baby’s cravings! not mine!”

you’re wearing the same ratty old skull shirt, in the doctor’s office— pushed up a little while she applies a thick layer of that cold jelly to your belly. katsuki snickers when you shiver, a kiss pressed to your head at the time but he damn near sobs, squeezing your hand for dear life when he finds out you’re having a little girl. it’s a little gross but you have to use the shirt to wipe his nose, especially when her tiny heartbeat echoes throughout the room.

a new tear is made in the skull shirt a when you hit the third trimester, seven more months in, and you’re watching katsuki flash across your mother in law’s TV screen—fighting for his life, the people of Japan and most importantly his unborn child against a villain that’s injured half of your classmates already. mitsuki switches off the news channel before the end of the fight, reminding you that you’re at the height of your pregnancy, that the stress hormones aren’t good for your body and that she’ll make you something warm to drink instead. for hours you wait for katsuki bakugou to walk through the door, fidgeting with lose strings on his old shirt that your nearly cry over as they unravel and you tell yourself and your unborn daughter that it’s all going to be okay, that daddy will come home.

“missed me sweetheart?”

this time it’s your tears that the shirt wipes away when bakugou steps through the door— a little worse for wear but his eyes still lit up at the sight of you in his old shirt with your precious bump popping out from underneath. he doesn’t mind so much when you squeeze him as close as you can, sob mean things into his scorched hero costume because he can feel his little baby kicking him at him through the shirt anyways.

the skull shirt is what you’re wearing, stretched beyond belief over the baby bump, when you go into labour at the beginning of December— katsuki hates the cold, strewn all over you with blankets up to his nose and of course his brat had to decide to be due then. he’s startled awake by you finding some ungodly amount of strength to shove the pro hero out of bed, yelling at him to get the baby bag and to call the hospital and to help you to the damn car ( he’s praying he’d put the car seat in already ) between yelps of pain.

your baby girl with a head of blonde curls and eyes the colour of your own is born bright an early the next day, with a strong grip to her daddy’s finger and one to his shirt too.

sixteen years later, you watch katsuki shove his finger through the hole in the collar and the tear at the side of his very old skull shirt— thumbing the fabric while his daughter packs up her room for the U.A dorms. excitement runs through her body, intertwined with sparks of nervousness before he sits her down, a proud expression pulling across his fine wine aged features.

“i wan’cha t’have somethin’ squirt. it never failed me, ‘n it didn’t fail yer ma when she was pregnant with you. so it’ll look after you when yer at school and we’re not there to look out for you anymore.” he says quietly, eyes warm and tired and mirroring your not so little-little girl’s own. her face lights up when he passes her the shirt, the one that you carried her in, the one that smells like her dad and holds his memories too and she hugs him, close like he’s about to disappear and your heart melts as the story unfolds.

“i’ll make you proud, dad.” she whimpers, tucking her face into his neck.

“squirt, i’ve been proud of you since you were just a twinkle in yer mother’s eye.” bakugou mumbles back, catching your eye from over her shoulder— both of you knowing that with the shirt, she’s going to be just fine.

[tteokdoroki]

— my darling, be selfish. + diluc ragnivindr.

— author’s note: this is for my baby sowa @usoratonkachi the only one i love bye

— warning(s): smut, mdni 18+, heavy!somno, unprotected sex, oral sex (fem!receiving), creampies, love making hehe, praise, fem!reader.

“d-diluc…”

“yes, darling?”

diluc is a giving lover, he’ll never take unless you insist. your needs are always above his own because he cares for you deeply, more than he has for anyone else in his life… but this morning, he just couldn’t help himself. in the summer heat, when your night robes ride up and reveal plains of plush and blemished skin to the hungry eyes of the dark night— how is he expected to resist? to be a gentleman when you look like a morning angel laying against his sheets. he barely needs to pry you apart, practiced finger tips cascading down your thighs easily, and you open up for him like a flower blossoming towards the heat of the sunlight in spring.

you’re so pretty, my archons. between your thighs lies a treasure diluc hopes is his to keep— the scent of you only serving to ignite the flames of desire burning in his chest. he ties back his hair before he kisses up your thighs, across your stomach and smiles into your pussy when you whine for him in your sleep. even like this, despite how badly he needs you, diluc prods softly at your clit with the tip of his tongue— knowing just what gets you wet enough to take him.

oh, you’re his sweet girl— clutching the sheets beside you while your sweet dreams turn into something more sultry. diluc watches the contours of your face as your lips twist and pout and sighs like a song bird’s tune slip from between them as his tongue slips into you, fucking you as if it were his hard aching cock nestled against the sheets right now. you taste like the finest wine ever crafted, you feel like the softest thing he’s ever touched. you can’t be real, akin to a figment of diluc’s imagination while he catches your juices on the pallet of his tongue before they can roll down between your cheeks in sweet droplets.

“m…mmn, d-diluc,” you somehow manage in your sleep, still not awake but not immune to your lover’s selfish mouth on you— sucking away at what your puffy folds have to offer, taking from you when he usually gives. the red head groans deep into your cunt, wet and sticky and all his for the taking— and his hips involuntarily buck into the bed beneath you both when you moan so loud it might rattle the neighbours.

with fleeting regret, the dark knight pulls away from your dripping pussy to ease his equally sloppy cock— heavily coated with a thick white layer of his slick precum and seed— between your shiny, spit covered thighs and against your fluttering hole. “i know darling, archons, i know. i’m here,” he coos, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head as he shakily pushes into you, desperately chasing the feeling of being able to bottom out within your silken walls. “i’ve got you, my sweetest girl.” and when he does, it’s like the gates of heaven have opened up, and diluc pulls back from the warmth of your cunt to thrust into you, all the way up to the hilt.

were you always this tight? so pliant and ready to be fucked? diluc doesn’t know, he doesn’t care— because you cling to him as if it’s instinct, fingers twitching up to the warmth of his body fuelled by his pyro vision and the slick walls of your cunt clamp down on the forked veins of his cock as they drag against your sensitive spots that only he can reach. only when his milky tip brushes hard against your g-spot while diluc builds a pace steady enough to rock the bed, do your eyes start to flutter, lashes brushing against his cheek’s as he presses his face close to yours— breath fanning over your skin warmly.

“d-diluc…”

“yes, darling?”

your sleepy eyes meet fiery red ones, and your mouth forms an ‘o’ as diluc pushes at your thighs until your ankles lock at the small of his back and the angle his dick hits inside you changes just right. “more…m-more,” you plead softly, rolling your own hips upwards— fingers flying to red locks of hair to tug diluc up from biting and kissing and marking your bouncing chest so you can have your lips on his. “g-give me more.” you moan into his open mouth, his strawberry tongue sliding over yours and spreading the taste of yourself across it. it’s a messy exchange of early morning i love yous, unspoken words and feelings of lust as diluc pounds away at your sloppy pussy with even more vigour than before.

squelching sounds of your sexes fill the early morning air, the dark knight practically carving your shape into the mattress with how deep he’s fucking you— hips rolling slowly into yours while his cock churns up your insides and turns a milky shade of white as your juices cream against him. balls slap against the curve of your ass, adding to the tune of your love making while diluc selfishly gasps and grunts your name— taking it as his. taking you as his. it’s far from appropriate to make you such a mess so early on in the day, your cheeks wet with crystal tears, face a little hot and your skin shining with spit and sweat as your bodies move together…but if it was so inappropriate you should never have been so beautiful and tempting in the first place.

diluc’s abs contract against the softness of your tummy, his hips circling, cock twitching against your walls furiously as a wet and crude mix of your juices slides between your folds. “can you take more, my love?” he asks you earnestly, the rough pads of his fingers making their way between your bodies to draw shapes on your swollen, abused little clit. “can you cum for me darling?” he asks you again, voice sweet but dominated by lust and adoration as you shake beneath the dark knight hero, taking what he gives you. you squeeze down on him, nearly causing the man to choke but making his hips stutter. “ah, i know you can darling. be good, let me know when you’re close. you’ve been good all morning, i want…fuck i want to make you cum.”

you grip his wrist, moans rising in octave and in volume— eyes threatening to roll back in your skull. “d-diluc… i-im close. oh please…oh please. please.” this time you beg, and diluc loses his ability to be selfish— smiling down at you with so much as he pinches your clit and gives you exactly what your body’s been craving, exactly what you need. he draws his cock all the way out, let’s you squirm for just a moment more before plunging all the way into your soiled, slippery walls and watches as the world falls apart behind your glassy doe eyes.

“cum for me, darling.”

and you do just that, the world of colours flashing across your mind as you just let it go. your release splashes out against diluc’s tummy in waves that he doesn’t stop fucking you through, a fond but airy chuckle escaping his lips while you cream on his cock like the good, sweet thing you are. “that’s it, you’ve been so good…so good.” he mumbles, face tucked into your neck as he rides out your high with shallow thrusts and a stuttering pace before reaching his own climax— thick and heavy ropes of his white seed painting your insides, so much so that it seeps out and sticks to your puffy folds.

diluc can sometimes be a selfish lover, but only when it comes down to having you and being able to make you see stars and feel pleasure whenever he damn well pleases. especially when it ends in mornings like this, where he makes you a mess and soils the sheets.

[tteokdoroki]

tw: breastfeeding, bad pregnancies n supportive bakugou cries

“what’re you doin’ down here?”

it’s the middle of the night; probably nearer to three in the morning when you catch your husband’s gruff voice before you see him emerge into the kitchen; the sharp edge of his handsomely matured jawline illuminated by the silver moonlight. smiling as he rubs sleep from his ruby encrusted eyes— you hold up a baby bottle mina had gifted you from the baby shower, filled with breast milk as you set a timer up on the warmer.

“your son was hungry again,” you hum, placing the bottle back into the warmer, smiling as warm and familiar arms wrap around your waist and calloused fingers trace the c-section scar. “he wouldn’t latch so i figured we’d try a bottle tonight.”

bakugou makes a noise of disapproval in his throat, squeezing you close to his chest as if to cushion you— protect you. “y’shoulda come ‘n got me, need all the rest you can get feedin’ a hungry tike like that all day,” he rasps into the shell of your ear, swaying your bodies to the quiet tick of the one minute timer on your baby bottle warmer. “we agreed t’split feeding, r’member?”

your husband is warm, like a comforting hug or the safest place to be in the world— and if you’re not careful, you might fall asleep standing up. “i didn’t know you were awake kats, besides you just came back from a long mission and—“

“firstly.. had to put the little princess back t’bed, she wanted to know how her parents met.” bakugou grunts, spinning you softly in his arms— fingers brushing over your wedding ring, his forehead practically plastered to yours. “secondly, none of that, we’re a fuckin’ team, we do this shit together,”

maybe it’s the left over hormones tingling through your body; the exhaustion of being a mother to two of the country’s most adored children and the wife of a top pro hero… but you feel yourself curl in on katsuki, feel your body flood with relief knowing that you can always count on him no matter what you both go through.

the timer on the bottle warmer ticks with the indication that your son’s late night meal is ready— and before you can reach for it, bakugou has your eyes on his once again. tired with age and becoming new parents for the second time, the stress of your son’s difficult pregnancy and labour evident in the crease between his brows despite you both being closer to the start of your careers than retiring, but masked by the love in his eyes.

he picks it up, kissing your forehead as he goes— guiding you back up to the first floor of the home you built together, where you part ways at the landing. bakugou to the nursery and you back to the comfort of your bed.

“get some rest,” katsuki tells you, sleepy but warmly. “don’ wait up for me, kay?”

you know that your hungry four month old son is in good hands, that your three year old daughter is sleeping safe and soundly— but something in your heart tells you that you can’t truly rest until the last bakugou is tucked into your arms tonight.

“no promises,” you say wistfully, grateful to your husband and your children— counting your blessings too.

[tteokdoroki]

— DUMMY DADDY + tobio kageyama.

↳ warnings: fluff, parent!au, reader is a mother, i just wanted to write tobi as a daddy !!! pls he’s so cute i love him so so much. your baby boy says his first word and it’s not what either of you expect.

“it’s going to be mama,” you tell kageyama matter of factly. “his first word is going to be mama.”

you don’t need to look at the setter to know that he’s glaring daggers into your back while you prepare a fruitsnack for your baby boy. “how do you know that?” the glares only continue when you turn, holding out a bowl of mushed apples and peach to your son as he gargles happy sounds towards his parents.

“mother’s intuition, tobio.”

your husband scoffs, snatching the bowl from you so you have both your hands to take a seat at the table— sitting on the other side of your baby’s high chair. “well,” he starts. “you’re wrong, s’gonna be papa. ain’t that right lil’ man.” the man coos, hand becoming an aeroplane and garnering the interest of his carbon copy as he spoons the crude baby food mix past tiny lips and into a slobbering mouth. he claps chubby hands down on his high chair, kicking socked feet out when tobio spoon feeds him again. “see? daddy’s his favourite.”

“whatever,” you huff, but you don’t fight the smile that tugs on your lips watching the two of them interact. if tobio is your sun; then your little thirteen month old is your husband’s stars moon and night sky. he’s been kageyama’s favourite person since he was just a twinkle in either of your eyes— since you held up three pregnancy tests over a shitty facetime call when your husband was abroad, playing for his Italian team.

they’ve been inseparable since his birth, as soon as your boy was able to leave the house tobio had his baby carrier court side during practices for the Olympic team. your baby would laugh loud and proud whenever his daddy made super high jumps and sets for uncle hinata, whenever he and uncle tsumu got into little squabbles on the court. your baby smiles just like tobio does when you take him to italy for his first birthday— they’re the spitting image of each other, you’d find that with a quick swipe through your camera roll.

two sets of sapphire blue eyes and mops of black fluffy hair— it’s almost unfair how identical they are, he’s just barely got the slope of your nose and your lopsided smile and somehow the beauty mark you have dotting your left cheek, but still. he’s yours, and tobio’s a product of your love that your husband had cried over when he came into the world silent and not screaming like you’d hoped. only for a minute though, you’d later discover through sleepless nights that your son had a set of pipes on him.

oh how little kageyama had grown, how he’d changed your life as well as his daddy’s… so to you, it didn’t matter what his first word was— not really. it was just another moment for you to treasure and admire your boys.

“tell mama that i’m your favourite,” tobio grins, tickling your chubby little baby till you’re sure his cheeks are sore and you hum in content, resting your own cheek on the seat of your palm.

“not gonna happen, tobi, he’s a mama’s boy,” you interject and reach up, twirling a black strand of baby hair between your fingers. “say mama f’me honey,” it’s your turn to coo, lifting yourself from your seat to press kisses all over the right side of your son’s face.

kageyama mimics you, taking over the left side so that no area of your son’s face goes untouched. “nuh uh, we’ll see about that—!” neither of you expect the baby hand to slap down into his bowl of mush causing it to fly up and everywhere— smacking the father of your child in the face and ruining your counter tops. your baby squeals in amusement, slapping his dirty hands everywhere at the sight of his messy parents.

“no baby, don’t do that,” you whine, already reaching for the paper towels to clean both of your boys up. “so silly, huh baby?”

big blue eyes look up at you with unadulterated innocence— as if he hasn’t just destroyed your kitchen and ruined kageyama’s favourite shirt but you can’t stay mad at him, letting your pro volleyball player husband wipe the mush from his hands and face.

“you’re lucky your mum loves you bud, not even i could get away with this.”

“d-du!” your baby squeals back, making both you and kageyama freeze in your place— slowly looking back to him as he sweetly stumbles over his first word. “du-! duuu!”

you whip out your phone faster than you can say your son’s name— smiling at him encouragingly while he looks between his unsuspecting parents. “go on baby!! say mama, ma-ma!”

“nuh uh, daddy…da-da!”

your son blinks slow and then says. “dum’ass!”

tobio kageyana has never been more in fear of his life than he had right now— your gaze burning a hole in his shoulder while your baby gets his hands dirty in the moosh on his baby chair. “it was nice knowing you, baby.” the setter says solemnly, pinching his son’s cheeks.

“dududu—dum’ass!!”

“tobio—“

“dum’ass!”

kageyama squishes your baby’s face together in desperation, as you put away your phone to finish cleaning up. “c’mon sweetheart, you wanna grow up with your dad in your life don’cha?” he pulls your baby into his lap, making him wave to you on behalf your husband who’s matching blue gem eyes are begging for your forgiveness. “‘m sorry mama!” tobio coos in a baby voice.

“du’mmy!”

“you’re really hitting the nail on daddy’s coffin baby,” you can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the pair, ruffling two sets of beautiful black locks and pressing kisses to their faces— an extra long, sloppy lingering one under tobio’s ears. “but i’ll deal with that later, sweetheart. you really need to stop calling uncle hinata names when you take our baby to practice.” you scold him.

but you’re hardly serious, not when your boys look at you with mischievous and loving blue eyes.

[tteokdoroki]

hiii hey hockey au midoriya for you my friends

you don’t know shit about hockey let’s start with that, but you’re probably on the figure skating team and come to practice late at night not knowing the campus’ hockey team is booked in for today too. they’re already on the rink, big, rowdy and loud— a little too intimidating to ask to give you the rink since your name is already on the time sheet for this session.

you think of leaving, sneaking out the back but your sneakers squeak on the rubber flooring outside the rink and suddenly this team of huge men is staring you down— pushing and shoving at each other, whispering about how cute you are, no doubt making comments on you until someone makes their way over, leaning over the edge with his helmet flipped up and a smile that makes your knees woozy.

“hi there,” oh you’re fucked, oh he’s pretty. big green eyes, matching hair curled just above them— freckles and a crooked nose from how many times it’s probably been broken. hockey au midoriya reaching a big gloved hand out to yours, apologetically smiling over at you. “i’m so sorry about this, do you mind if we use the rink for a little longer? i saw your name on the sign up sheet but my team has a big game soon and—“

“yeah; that’s fine.”

“yeah?” hockey au midoriya gives you that big smile, makes your head spin and he sounds like an angel when he laughs breathily while talking to you. “thank you, give me your number so i can text when we’re done.”

hockey au midoriya you realise is only ever as sweet as he is with you— on campus he’s kind, shy despite all the girls and guys that flock him for the muscles in his back that ripple and the biceps that look like they could crush and his height that lets him tower over people and reach the highest shelves in the library. he talks to fans with patience but doesn’t believe they’re actually his, he uses his popularity on campus for sweet things like raising money for better books— he’s got the chance to go pro, handles the media well too.

but when he’s with you it’s like the notch has been turned up, always leaving you drinks out when your practice begins as his ends, bringing a spare jersey ( clean ) of his for when he stays to walk you back to campus late at night.

he’s bashful when you ask him to stay and watch you figure skate on the ice, when he asks you for pointers on speed. hockey au midoriya who’s cheeks then red when you watch him wipe the floor with his huge teammate kirishima during drills with cones, who tells you it’s fine with a wobbly voice after bakugou gives him a busted lip on the rink for fucking up a shot ( he got distracted by you walking in right on time ) and has you worriedly fawning over him.

hockey au midoriya who invites you to that one game he mentioned weeks ago and you have to force your eyes up to look into his because he’s just showered after practice and you’re on your way out— and his nipples are right in your fucking face, chest broad and bristling with laughter when you breathe out a simple. “yeah sure.”

you’re not prepared to see how much of a fucking bully hockey au midoriya can be when he’s in a real life game— backing kirishima up on the defence, cursing like a sailor when he misses a shot and gets up in the faces of the other team. you squeal in your seat, still shy and unlike the rest of their supporters but rush to your feet whenever deku makes a clean shot or score— screaming his name loud and proud.

seeing you there has hockey au midoriya smiling so bright, ripping off his helmet and chucking it down on the ice— curly hair matted over his eyes as he blows you a kiss and his team rounds up on him to tease him before everyone resets on their positions.

but then throughout the rest of the match, the other team makes him a target— keeping him up against the barriers as he zips across the ice, making snarky little comments about ‘how good a fuck the sweet girl with his jersey and number on will make’, it’s throwing deku off, pissing him off and bringing out the big bad player in him. the crowd goes wild and your stomach drops when he throws down his hockey stick, strips his helmet and gloves and grabs the nearest opposing player by the jersey.

hockey au midoriya’s knee goes straight into this guy’s stomach, elbow into his shoulder and fist straight into his face. he’s red hot, angry and cursing up a fucking storm not giving the guy a chance to breathe with kicks and punches flying about the place. not even the referee whistle can stop him.

it’s not until another member of the oposing team grabs deku and socks him in the jaw, but he’s up at it again— taking sucker punches to the face, breaking his nose again and smiling through the blood streaming from his nose and mouth.

‘cause it doesn’t matter to him, no one fucks with hockey au midoriya’s girl.

[tteokdoroki]

— thirst tweets + katsuki bakugou.

hey so your husband bakugou does buzzfeeds thirst tweet interview and uncovers something hilarious from your old fan account. kinda crack? mostly fluff and a little suggestive !! hence MDNI 18+.

like say he’s on some promotional tour abroad, he’s bee invited to some fashion week or something and they decide to invite him on since fans have been hounding for katsuki do it it for years— so he finally agrees to do it.

it’s early morning when they film, the earliest they could get him in to shoot the video before whatever other promos he has to do on his schedule so katsuki is only half awake and dressed as comfortably as can be. his hair sticks to his forehead, grey hoodie pulled over his head and a coffee in one hand even though he hates the taste but he wants some fucking energy for hell his fans want him to endure.

“let’s get this fuckin’ thing over with shall we?” bakugou grunts as the camera starts rolling, taking a long exaggerated sip of his drink as if to mentally prepare. “the name’s katsuki bakugou ‘n i’m reading your thirst tweets. whores— do i get fuckin’ therapy after this?”

the tweets mostly start off tame, a few comments about how cute bakugou is when he laughs, how his admirers would give up their whole lives for him. the typical stuff in which the pro hero only responds with. “lame. where’s the good shit, i wanna see how nasty you lot can be.” he laughs, ruby eyes drifting over more of the screenshots production had lined him up with. “pro heroes don’t deserve to be sexualised but i want you all to know i’d let pro hero dynamight with a mullet tear my shit up.” he reads the next one with a smirk, pulling back his hood to toy with his growing blonde locks. “should i be growin’ my shit back?”

from here, things start to get progressively worse— bakugou putting the phone down from time to time so he can through his head back in deep laughter, mumbling things like ‘this is so fucked up!’ ‘nah, these guys are fuckin’ nasty.’ ‘can somebody get this on a t-shirt?’ and he’s absolutely having the time of his life filming and reading out his fans’ dirty tweets.

“i’d like to thank whatever god let me be alive at the same time as katsuki bakugou,” he repeats the next tweet out loud, spreading his thighs to sit back in his seat. “i’m your god. ya should be thankin’ me.” the next tweet makes his brows furrow. “i would plaster my bussy on the sidewalk for dynamight— what’s a bussy?”

a few more roll by and the video is almost over but katsuki bakugou damn near loses his mind at the grande finale. “‘if i ever get the chance, i’m gonna make sure that katsuki bakugou, pro hero, aged twenty three, gets the most toe curling, life threatening heart stopping head and then I’ll let him sit on my face with that fat ass of his until i can no longer breathe.” bakugou’s face turns bright red, a snort tearing though his throat as he reads the handle ‘bakugouscumdumpster01’ and then the name of the handler too. “holy fuckin’ shit…where did you guys find this? do you know who this is? this is my wife’s account.”

he would recognise your name anywhere, the way you type and text is still the same as it was five years ago before he met you and gave you the bakugou name. the tweets on the rest of your account are funny, lusting after other pro heroes but most are dedicated to your husband katsuki. the blonde knows the editors will have to cut all of this footage out later but he can’t help but scroll through your tweets and replies under his old tweets from earlier on in his hero career— mentions of how proud you are of him, how much you love him.

and five years later nothing has really changed. you still adore him all the same.

“‘m gonna call her, just you wait. this’ll make good fuckin’ television.” katsuki wonders how much of his cursing they’ll have to censor out when it comes down to editing as he taps your number, smiling when your face flashes up during the dial tone until you pick up.

“hi baby, aren’t you shooting right now?”

your voice fills his heart with joy, beating loud in his chest he’s afraid the cameras might pick up the sound. “i am baby, missed ya though.” there’s a smile on that heart, big and proud when you giggle through the phone and tell him you missed him too— asking him what he needs, if he’s okay, caring about him tenderly in your special way. he hates to ruin it— by reading out the most dirty, disgusting thing you’ve ever said. katsuki repeats your tweet word for word, listening to how you go silent the more he talks. “so does this coupon expire…or?”

you whine, and bakugou knows if you were you would be slapping his chest right now even though you both know he can’t feel it through his big tits (you’ve also tweeted this). “kats! t-that was before i met you!” you squeal, voice trembling with embarrassment— sending his heart into overdrive. you’re so sweet you could give him a toothache. “ohmygod, it’s gonna be in the video. i’m gonna scream, i’m gonna—“

“you sure you’ll be able to do that while yer givin’ me life threatenin’ head, baby?” dynamight rasps, angling the phone at the camera. they might have to cut this too, but he doesn’t care, still being able to fluster his wife is his favourite thing. “c’mon sweets, for the camera?”

you’re quiet for a moment, probably still sulking that your old thirsts for your husband are being uncovered for his amusement. “i’ll give you more than just life-threatening head, kats. just wait until you get home.” you purr through the speaker, voice dropping an octave and katsuki can practically see the way you would look up at him, through your lashes, lips between your teeth. god, he could die. “love you honey.”

and with that, you end the call— the tone ringing out through the set, leaving a flustered bakugou in your wake in front of bright lights and rolling cameras. “i think that’s a wrap?” one of the producers says, snapping dynamight from his thirsty, thirsty thoughts.

“uh…yeah, ‘m katsuki bakugou ‘n this has been reading your thirst tweets.” bakugou grunts bashfully, with a soft smirk on his face, only imagining what nasty acts you’re going to do when he’s done with promotions.

[tteokdoroki]

heavily thinking about only fans gf!reader and only fans bf!deku … like of!couple.

crying like you guys have the pretty kind of porn videos, illuminated by the sunrise or the sunset because izuku thinks golden hour is the best time the fuck you. the camera shows neither of your faces, but your audience can tell it’s you from the little green happy trail your boyfriend has along with the matching tiny angel wing tattoos you both have at the start of your pelvises.

your Twitter for promotions are probably just as cute, filled with previews from ten seconds to a minute of you having your world rocked by your boyfriend and the best dick you’ve ever had. there’s probably pictures of you too, with dekus fingers on your clit as you straddle him reverse cowgirl, maybe his hands on your waist when you ride him the other day. there’s some snaps of his creamy cockhead resting on your plump lips in a field of flowers, and others of you bent over in a grocery store— sticky panties pulled slightly to the side.

the camera you have is so clear, always capturing every moment— the type that changes focus when deku puts his fingers in front of the lenses and spreads them apart to show the clear strings of your slick that connects the two digits after he’s done playing with your cute little pussy.

your videos always start the same; with you both making out— wet kisses echoing throughout the scene, whether you’re in public or tucked away in your minimalist one bed apartment. his scared hands cup your neck— as if to choke you but mostly to remind you that he’s there, sometimes they dip lower to tweak your nipples under whatever adorable skimpy outfit your subscribers have or izuku has chosen for you this time round.

he always asks you “do you wanna show the camera your pussy, angel?” always in a sweet whisper, always when you both part for air and always giggled against your lips when your thighs squeeze together and deku has to force them open again. always gentle. “don’t be shy, c’mon, let them see.” and you’re so well behaved, that’s what your subscribers love about you both— how you’re so obedient for your boyfriend and how tenderly he treats you.

sometimes your videos are gentle too, izuku waking you up with his tongue stuffed into your quivering cunt and three fingers on your clit in slow circles— rubbing faster, harder, wetter as you wake up for him and cry out his name in broken syllables. your fingers always find his hair and tug him close, voice getting higher and higher until you squirt pretty for him and izuku is laughing breathily while he slaps down on your cunt, pulling the last of your clear arousal out of you in short streams.

sometimes your videos are more rough and raunchy— izuku just so happening to have brought the camera along on your afternoon walks, bending you over until your back arches and your ass is up in the air against a park bench or a tree. your clothes are half heartedly pulled down or to the side, your viewers getting the perfect view of your boyfriend’s taut ass as he pounds you harshly from behind, mixes of arousal slinging to the ground, cheeks clapping and his fingers shoved down your throat to keep you quiet. if they’re lucky he might position to camera underneath you, so the filthier of your viewers can see deku’s balls slap against your soaked clit too.

in videos where you suck izuku off, you have a cute little blindfold on to hide your face, lenses of the camera focused on the way precum oozes from his bright red tip— and deku’s cock is so fucking pretty, his moans the perfect mix of whiney and raspy and they ( your fans ) love how your nails are always manicured when you drag them down your boyfriend’s thighs, or tug affectionately at his balls or wrap your hands around the thickness of his shaft to jerk him off.

often, you’ll do challenges while you fuck each other with sweet giggles and random kisses. how many times can he make you squirt on his cock? how many times can izuku creampie you? how many positions can you fuck in? izuku will moan loud with you when he knows you’re about to cum or your little cunt is about to stream and squirt for him— the force pushing his veiny fat dick out of your hole. “oh? oh yeah? uhuh… that’s right, oh yeah angel… there you go, that’s it.” other times he’s too caught up in the moment, filling you up with viscous hot and white seed, to even be able to speak— guttural moans reading from deep inside of him as he does so.

your viewer’s favourites are when you cum so hard it gushes onto your gifted waterproof camera, when deku folds you missionary and they can see the backs of his thighs and ass quiver when he comes undone inside of you, and when he pulls out after you’ve come down and shared your sweet kisses so they can see the nasty, crude mix of your orgasms slide out of your raw pussy.

your videos end the same, with your chest heaving and deku’s face tucked into your neck while he makes you sweetly say thank you to your viewers for watching and that you’ll see them next time before the camera cuts off and it’s just you and izuku and some more soft kisses.

[tteokdoroki]

best friend’s brother trope works for kageyama i think

i mean like, being best friends with his older sister…you’d watched him grow up, never thought much of him before. tobio used to be a little weird, seriously quiet and hyper fixated on volleyball, you’d sent your congratulations along with his sister, miwa, when he qualified for the Japan nationals team and went to Rio one summer of college. but to you he was still little tobio who stared you down whenever you entered a room and would avoid you like the plague.

so when yourself and miwa return in to your home town to celebrate your graduations you don’t expect kageyama to be so tall and broad and thick— the fabric of his shirt just barely covering the bulk of him, sweat dripping down his brow as if he’s just finished a work out. he is NOT the little brother you remember. this is a big…brother.

“what the fuck happened to tobio?” you’d laugh to miwa when you get home from clubbing as round one of your celebrations— going from talking about your shitty sex life to her younger brother as if it were normal.

neither of you know he’s listening when the elder kageyama teases you for being so flustered about his appearance. “volleyball made him big…i guess? his new team has tobio on some crazy fucking diet. he’s huge now.”

and huge, kageyama is.

you come to discover that when the volleyball player corners you in the kitchen in the middle of your late night conquest for milk. the curve of his cock slides against your ass through his sweats and your night shirt— he’s massive, and weighty and your cunt is already drooling from the thought of him. “how convenient is it that i’ve caught you ass up in the air when you’ve been talking about how dry your dick spell’s been, tonight?” kags’ words are so full of lust he almost cant catch them as they drip off his tongue. “i’ve always thought ‘bout this… yanno,”

your ass fits into tobio’s hands perfectly, slender and rough fingers spreading you so wide you’re forced to clench around nothing— and you thank the stars that you’ve ended up in this position while trying to grab a glass. you’re shaped to lay over the counter as the dark haired athlete grinds into you from behind, panting hotly into your ear about how you’ve been teasing him all these years, about how embarrassing it was to pop boners whenever his sister’s best friend came around, and about how long he spent with his dick in his fist ( even now ) jerking it off to the thought of your pretty little pussy— now just separated from his stiffy by thin layers of fabric.

“you want me? i’ve always fucking wanted you.” tobio tells you through a rasp, smirking when you nod so fast, slowly inching your night shirt up and groaning heartily when you’re not wearing anything underneath. had you always been like that? bare and ripe for the taking whenever you slept over for his sister in previous years. “god…fuck.” he has to remember to keep his cursing quiet but it’s hard when he can smell how wet you are, let alone see it in the way your folds glisten and stick together. “c’mon…need a verbal answer.” it stings when kageyama’s practiced hand slaps down on the meat of your ass, but you’re still so good in nodding and mumbling a small yes. “atta girl.”

sinking into you for the first time feels so much better than any serve or set kageyama could have ever given in his entire life. you’re so warm and syrupy, juices running down his shaft even though he’s only half the way inside you. it feels so good to let go of his controlled routines, finally being able to fuck the girl of his dreams in his childhood home. you’re like a forbidden fruit in tobio’s personal garden of eve and his stormy eyes only cloud over even more when he takes a bite.

you’re his sister’s best friend, practically off limits…but neither yourself or tobio can seem to care when he’s balls deep in your clenching cunt and those very same balls are battering your clit until she’s swollen and tingling with pleasure. kageyama’s in heaven— your ass bounces back on him like a ball across the court and leaves his pelvis and lower abdomen in ruins— shining from where your arousal smears across them with every thrust deeper into your heat, churning up your insides.

kageyama can’t help but become fixated, smacking down harder and harder onto the sweet peachy globes of your ass until your skin is raw and you have to shove your own fingers into your mouth to keep your whines and mewls down as you cry. and hard. hushing your own begs “oh please oh pleash…ohmplwase!” because god forbid your childhood best friend walking in on you getting raw dogged by her little brother, your pussy frothing thick cream at the base of tobio’s dick as he stretches you on it— a mix of your arousals wasted by slinging onto the floor.

neither of you know who miwa will kill first, but what you do know is that this won’t be the last time you’re fucked a drooling mess within an inch of your life against the kitchen counter by tobio kageyama. he makes a promise of that but breeding your up till your folds are seeping with white and he has to pull out of you to see his cum dribble down your thighs.

“keep this pussy empty till i’m back after this season. dreamed about her far too long for it to be used by someone else.” kageyama groans through kisses under the shell of your ear. “this pussy is miwa’s lil brother’s now.”

[tteokdoroki]

since we���re talking about deku today i’d like to think he doesn’t practice safe sex. he’s more of a “‘m gonna pull out, kay? promise baby, jus’lemme feel you, yeah?” kinda guy and for the most part, it works— pulling his cock out of your spasming and tight heat to twitch and throb and paint your soft tummy with the milky seed that drips from his red hot tip.

but sometimes deku barely makes it out :( or rather he doesn’t want to pull out— ramming into you with godspeed pace, pushing anything that pours from his cock deep into your womb, groaning high pitched and needy and in tune with the filthy squelches of your cunt frothing around his length.

and deku knows that he’s broken his promise to you, he doesn’t really care— whispering an absentminded “‘m sorry baby, y’just make me cum looking all pretty like that.” as he smears his seedy tip against your clit and coos at the thick white that oozes from your tight little hole.

[tteokdoroki]

the news outlets call you bakumama :(( whole world is excited to see dynamight’s first baby, speculating who it’ll look like more, if it’s a girl or boy— some even think it’s twins !!

they snap pictures of bakugou waiting outside the hospital to catch a breather— cap pulled over his blonde mullet, his handsome face concealed by a black mask that he pulls down for a smoke to calm his nerves (even though you’d kill him if you found out). twitter starts trending with the hashtag ‘dynababies are on the way’, the whole internet raging with excitement and support for their favourite pro hero.

all of his social media accounts go dead silent for eleven and a half hours, while the internet waits buzzing with excitement and then— a photo is tweeted out from katsuki’s official account of two of his rough fingers in the grips of two tiny, pruned baby hands. ‘welcome to the world, bakubrats.’ is the caption, a couple of play on words to the hashtags bakugou’s fans have trending about you.

there aren’t many updates for a few months, dynamight taking leave to focus on his family— which were the words the PR team used instead of “fuck off, my kids are fuckin’ sleepin’. don’t call me again ‘till they’re doing’ it on their own.” but eventually you sneak little pictures of the twins sitting up for the first time, crawling after daddy and wearing deku! or red riot merch! with bright smiles and screaming their little blonde haired or red eyed heads off when they’re put into dynamight’s colours.

sometimes there’s videos you’ve snuck of the twins trying to teeth on katsuki’s fingers or biting at his nipples— but there’s more wholesome moments of their naps together, little fingers intertwined and the twins cheering for their daddy on the TV as he dedicates a successful villain battle to ‘my freakin’ brats back home. my beautiful wife too.” and you smile when he remembers to censor the curse words, nearly cry when the babies gargle and clap for daddy even more.

katsuki finally shows you all off to the world at a hero gala that just so happens to fall on the twins’ birthday— you’re all dressed up in katsuki’s colours, your baby boy and baby girl finally calm enough to do the same and he wraps one arm around you, head buried in your hair for pictures as he kisses your forehead and the twins squeal at the cameras.

“bakufamily, meet the world. the world meet my fuckin universe.” he says with such a smug grin, you can see the crows feet at the corners of his eyes and the spitting image of his children all over his face.

“katsuki! don’t curse in front of the twins!”

[tteokdoroki]

but anyways i just know sero’s pull out game is weak as hell :(

+ tw for accidental creampies, afab!reader, mentions of pregnancy scares, unprotected sex and also pulling out is not an effective contraceptive method l

only cause when he’s fuckin’ you he makes sure he does it right, dick all snug and pressing up against your tight walls— churning up your guts while his skin barely pulls away from yours. smiffs, sero keeps you pinned to the sweat and slick soaked sheets, ramming into you from behind so he can watch the bounce of your ass every time he thrusts into you im crying.

and it’s because he hits so deep, that he gets right in your guts till you can feel him in your tummy and his blunt tip bullies your pleasure spot…it’s because of this that hanta just can’t pull out :( he fucks you so good your little hole just doesn’t wanna let his cock go, clamping down so tight that he pulses inside of you just right. the walls of your pussy commit the shape of him to memory, made to take him and only him.

“c’mon my love, y’gotta let me go…you’re gonna—shit! you’re gonna make me cum.” hanta would tell you, so out of breath— his hot chest sticking to your back as if his fingers haven’t fumbled their way between your parted thighs to draw sinful circles on your clit. he knows it’ll only make you tighter, make his hips rush forward and canter into you, make you see stars. “c’mon baby…i know that’s right.”

but of course, hanta doesn’t really mean it— because you won’t let go while you’re begging for his cum and he won‘t pull out even if it means you’ll both get another scare. that’s the last thing on either of your minds every time sero gets you like this, folding you beneath his touch— because nothing feels better than something you’re not supposed to have. that something being his thick white seed spilling into your spasming hole, pouring down your pussy lips when sero promised he’d pull out at the start :(

[tteokdoroki]

— content warning: smut, mdni 18+, hard dom!kirishima, slight!fear play.

it was a huge mistake for pro hero!bakugou to send his sweet little sidekick out to villain!kirishima’s lair. it was like sending a pig to a slaughter house, a lamb into a lion’s den...but you were the dynamight’s sidekick, there wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle. he’d thought, you were trained by the best of the best.

kirishima should have been afraid of you.

but then it’s so cute how easily you’re turned into a quivering mess beneath the bloody villain, tiny pussy stretched over his thick and hardened cock as he pumps it into you over and over again. your hero costume is in tatters, clawed away by blood riot as soon as you showed a crack in your resolve. the wire you wore crushed as kirishima pulls apart the coloured spandex you wear (proudly donning your agency colours)—slick with your arousal, squishes your teary stained cheeks together all while fucking his way into your womb and lining it with his seed, his thick white cum until you feel it spill over your puffy folds.

you don’t beg for him to stop, you beg for more. you don’t cry because it hurts, but because it’s not enough and you feel like you’re falling apart at every nudge of the villain’s cock against your squishy ribbed walls. you squeeze around him at the sound of the earth shattering above you, blood curdled screams no doubt from the many henchmen enlisted by kirishima, blood riot himself. the red head keeps you pinned to the surface below, smiling cruelly at how you weakly squirm for your mentors help and how you so eagerly grind your hips up to meet his dick that churns up your guts and makes you drool down your own thighs— marked by his grip on the soft flesh.

your neck fits perfectly in his grip, seazing with every breath you struggle to take when kirishima’s half pushed down belt scratches against your inner thighs and the metal of his belt leaves pleasuring and painful indents on your skin. the other one of his large hands pushes down on the meat at your waist as your fuzzy gaze hones in on his sadistic bloody grin.

“ah, ah, ahhh little lady,” kirishima tuts, pulling you back on your cock as you try to squirm away, run from the orgasm he’s about to give you. “where the fuck d’ya think you’re goin, huh?” god, and he’s pulling your hips up to match his pace, sticky strings of your endless orgasms tying you both together. you’re dizzy with lust, wondering how he’s not tired yet and how this feels so good, drooling with an empty head and taking kirishima over and over. “you said you wanted for me to make you cum. now you’re bein’ ungrateful, hm? or was it that you were too greedy, baby?”

“m-m not greedy! i-i just,” gargled words amongst other gasped noises escape you, there’s no room to think when the meat of his cock is filling you with every stroke. villain!kirishima is so big it doesn’t even feel like he’s pulling out, thrusting so deep you almost feel him in your throat.

“just what, little hero?” and the great blood riot bares his fangs, still menacing despite the pink dust to his cheeks that only flares up when you clench down on him just like that. it’s so fun to to with you, to play with someone that doesn’t belong to him. “cat gotcha tongue? i thought the sidekick to dynamight woulda had a little more fight in her. guess you break just as easily as your sweet little pussy. ain’t that right, gorgeous?” kirishima’s not even talking to you, pulling his sweaty body off of yours to push your knees into your chest, folding you to fuck you how he wants as he speaks to your creamed cunt, rough fingers flicking your swollen clit as you arch away from him again.

“look at you, struggling to speak. to fucking breathe. so cute,” he continues, hands on your chest, your throat sometimes even with fingers shoved into your mouth so that you’re constantly fully. the villain smiles and it’s almost dazzling despite how evil and sinister you know he can be, it only serves to make your puffy and swollen folds throb with need. “bet’cha not this well behaved for dynamight, he lets you run your mouth. but with me, you know better, ‘cause i fuck you better, ain’t that right sweetheart?”

you can’t help it, can’t control the gushing of your cunt that answers the red head’s question— trembling beneath him with humiliated tears running down your face as he pulls his fingers from your mouth. “i don’t— we’ve never,” your twisted sentences and wet cheeks make kirishima laugh heartily, punctuating each of your moans with deep hard thrusts, bearing down on your g-spot just right so he can make it that you can’t form another word.

“you don’t fuck with your boss, awh! that’s my loyal little hero,” kirishima coos, wiping your saliva on your cheeks and sucking it off his own fingers. “you only fuck with me. otherwise, it ends badly for both of you.” fear and just contort the heartbeat in your pussy, but it doesn’t stop your eyes from widening as the villain ravages you. “oh little one, you’re shakin’. scared that i’ll hurt ya? that your boss will find it what a cute little villain slut you are?” you’re shaking because it’s both, because you don’t know what society will make of you knowing you’re fucking the most notorious villain of them all.

because you don’t know how katsuki will react to losing your trust.

“or is it because you’re going to cum?” kirishima cuts through your thoughts like a butter knife through tension, unwinding the knot that’s been growing in your lower tummy— reminding you of how close you are and how many orgasms he’d dragged out of you. trapping your body beneath his, kirishima speeds up the patterns on your clit, sinks his blood thirsty teeth into your shoulder until he draws the crimson liquid and groans hotly into your ear.

“don’t worry little lady, villains don’t kiss and tell...even if i plan to send you back to dynamight with your cunt stuffed full of my cum.”

[tteokdoroki]

“osamu, what the hell is your problem?”

osamu miya isn’t one to act out like this, he’s never one to run head first into a fight with no armour. he’s not brash and unreasonable like ‘tsumu. he’s supposed to be the better twin at this compared to the blonde scrub he should have eaten in the womb.

but when it comes to you, he loses all sense of rationality— the slightest change in your emotions still has osamu acting a fool after all this time.

“i was defending yer honour!” he announces adamantly, slur heavier than usual as he flinches away from the bag of frozen peas you have pressed into his swelling cheek. osamu hates frozen veg, it ruins the quality and taste of his product, so he prefers to start afresh every time to make sure everyone gets the very best of what he has to offer but boy is he glad that he kept the bag in his kitchen’s freezers from when he first started out.

he still can’t believe he got punched in his own damn shop.

your face twists as you peel back the defrosting packet, analysing the tender area on the younger miya twin’s face. still handsome, even when bruised like a softly ripened peach. “osamu miya,” he hates how his full name sounds on your tongue, bitter and still slightly resentful— nothing like the ‘samu’s he’s used to. “i do not need defending! god…you don’t change. you never do!” frustration sits caked on your features like a layer of sweat after a gruelling day in the kitchens. “when will you realise that i can be my own person outside of you? i can take care of myself. i don’t need you to back me up, tell me to sit this one out like you do with ‘tsumu. i don’t need protecting.” you shift awkwardly on your knees, the tiled floor in onigiri miya’s kitchen cutting into your skin. “and besides…i like him.”

osamu pushes the peas from your grip, brows knotted together as he scowls at you like what you’ve said isn’t true. you could tell him those words a thousand times and he’d selfishly ignore them because you’re way too good to go unprotected in this world.

“yer still s’fuckin’ naive,”

the curse word slipping from the restaurant owners lips surprises you— it upsets you, the hurt sweltering in your chest. “‘samu that’s not fair…”

“i don’t care if it is! i see the way ya grimace when he touches ya, the way ya avoid his gaze. how he treats ya like a fuckin’ pet rather than a human being!” the miya twin roars back, and if he was loud enough you’re sure he’d rattle the pots out to dry on the dish-rack. “that’s not love. you know that.”

your face scrunches up, expression foul and osamu knows he shouldn’t have said that.

“and you do?” he can hear the tired tremble in your voice, you’ve both been here before, stuck in a loop of the same argument. osamu shouldn’t cast judgement on the people you date, not when he ruined the concept of love and happiness for you in the first place. he gave you up when you’d done nothing but cherish him for years after the team went their separate ways.

he was the one to let you go.

he was the one desperate to see you again, dropping hints to kita to invite the old inarizaki manager to the reunion at his precious store in osaka after atsumu’s big game.

he was the one who threw the first punch at your now fiancé because the way he held you wasn’t right.

it was too tight, too rough for someone who deserved the world like you. osamu could read the twitch of pain on your face probably before you even felt it…because he still loved you, he still knew everything about you and he didn’t even have the right to. he probably deserved to get his shit rocked before aran and suna dragged your fiancé outside the shop ( atsumu would have ripped the guy’s head off too for hurting his brother…but kita was there and you’d pleaded with him not to ).

so osamu miya stays silent, becomes a little more reserved unlike his bastard brother and zips his lips once more— throwing away the key while he avoids your desperate gaze. “nothin’.” he mumbles simply, looking away from your wounded puppy dog eyes.

“of course,” you say quietly, even though he can hear the crack of tears in your voice. “because you could never love anyone outside of this stupid shop.”

and as you let it slip you’re crying up, and back away from him on the kitchen floor of onigiri miya, osamu realises…there’s no starting over with you. it’s far too late for that.

[tteokdoroki]

thinking about how yuuji is mean to you but it’s like never on purpose :((

+ warnings: smut, mdni 18+, degrading, humiliation, yuuji is just a meanie 🥺 he doesn’t mean it tho </3

like yuuji laugh at you if you’re too short to reach something and your skirt rides up. he’ll hide behind megumi and snicker when you make a mistake in training and gojo points it out. he’ll agree with anyone who calls you an airhead or something if the sort—and he’ll tell you he doesn’t mean to laugh when it nearly makes you cry, when your bottom lip juts out and wobbles and your eyes water— it’s just a joke, yuuji will say, he doesn’t mean it.

you shouldn’t take it too seriously, itadori yuuji is too dumb to be mean like that.

but you can’t help it, the small sniffle you let out as he smears his milky precum over your cushiony pink lips— yuuji’s bright eyed and pink cheeked, a little closer to looking like he’s fucked out and lost his mind, and he still finds it in him to let out a little quip. one that makes your eyes gloss over and breath hitch. “you’re so…ah—fuck. you’re so dirty, yanno?” yuuji’s words are gravely, weighed down in his throat by tones of lust— he doesn’t mean for it to sound so harsh on his spit covered tongue but it’s true. you’re so messed up, cum on your Cupid’s bow, slathered up to your cheeks— mascara tracks and drool smeared elsewhere you’re—“disgustin’… so fucking nasty.” 

yuuji tends to be a little blunt about things— in the best of ways, and there’s never any malicious intent behind it. he’ll tell it how it is, humorously so even while shoving his cock past your parted lips— letting his sweet taste spread over your tongue, watching your eager throat swallow around him and your strawberry tongue trace the veins that wrap around him. “you’re so… so fucking dirty. that makes you a dirty girl too huh?” he asks you, losing his breath and count of how many times you’ve sniffed or hiccuped, precious tears clumping in your lashes.

he doesn’t mean to be mean, but…

“only dirty girls like their pretty throats fucked, like it when i rub my dick on their cute little faces.. when i— s-shit!” itadori’s words are not lost on you, his hot and cold demeanour around you driving your emotions. does he like you? does he hate you? how can he hate you when he lewdly slaps his bright red cockhead against your baby fat cheeks, thrusts his hips forward until he’s poking and fucking the inside of that very same cheek? “k-kugisaki says you’re too much of a prude t’suck cock like this… but that’s not true. you’re filthy!”

the more he says it, the more you believe itadori’s harsh words. you’re filthy for wanting more, for taking him deeper down your throat until your nose is nestled against his tummy and you have to hold his thighs the ground yourself. you’re a nasty, dirty, disgusting mess— a slut, for liking how his brown eyes roll back into his skull when you gag or choke on the crude mix of precum and saliva, nor how he whines from his gut and how he twitches against the palette of your tongue.

you really are a dirty little girl, it’s mean but true— and tears spring to your eyes again when you pull back from the pink haired male’s dick to breath.

“i-itadori…p-please stop being so mea—“ you try, still tentatively palming the man between soft fingers, your movements guided by obscene amounts of opaque white arousal, his drooling tip connected to your swollen lips by a string of your own spit. however your words don’t make it far, they barely register in itadori…at least not before his strong hand grips the back of your neck shoving you right back to where you were— hollowing your cheeks and breathing through your nose so you can take the heavyweight of yuuji’s cock on your sweet tongue.

“shuddap, would ya? dirty girls don’t talk when their mouths are full of cock.”

yuuji isn’t really mean…only when he’s fucking you, i suppose.