#BNHA gifs

[dollbrbie]

repost :p

a knock on your boyfriend, bakugo’s door of his dorm room causes a groan to escape his lips, unwrapping his arms from you where you were both previously cuddled up while watching a movie on your laptop.

“who’s that?”, you ask, still laid up in his bed as you watch him get up while marching to his door with pure attitude.

“probably them damn extras again.”, he complains with a grumble, opening his door to find kaminari, kirishima and sero stood there with large smiles on their faces.

“what’s with your goofy faces? and why are you knocking on my door at 10pm?”, he questions, a scowl plastered on his face.

“we were wondering if you wanted to come play this new game with us?”, kirishima asks, holding up a video game you know your boyfriend has been wanting to try out for a while now.

he leans against the doorframe, “well, i’m with my girlfriend right now.��

“yeah but you’ve wanted to play this for a while, right? i’m sure she’ll be fine with it.”, kaminari reasons, sero nodding along with him.

letting out the biggest sigh he could, bakugo replies, “yeah whatever, let me ask her.”, shutting his door halfway so the boys couldn’t see bakugo’s little act he was about to pull off.

“you can go if you want, i don’t mind.” you say softly, turning your head away from the movie you were just watching. you really didn’t mind if he wanted to hang out with his friends since he spent majority of his time with you anyway.

he frowns at your response, mouthing a ‘be quiet’ before opening the door once again after a minute or so, seeing their anticipated smiles.

“yeah she said no.”, bakugo shrugs through his lie nonchalantly, causing you to whip your head back around at him while furrowing your brows.

was this man trying to make his friends hate you?

“well, do you really need to be asking your girlfriend for permission, dude? seems kinda toxic..”, kaminari starts, scratching the back of his head with an awkward look on his face.

“are you questioning her?”, bakugo questions, his voice slightly raised as he holds his usual angry face when anyone mentions anything he doesn’t like about you.

he’s always been protective like that. although, you do wonder if that’s the reason why most of the boys seem a little too cautious around you and always refuse to train with you. bakugo always tells you not to worry about it.

“nah, course not, bro. we’ll play another time it’s fine.”, kirishima steps in, holding his hands up while giving a light hearted laugh, trying to cool bakugo’s behaviour.

“yeah, yeah, fine. whatever.”, bakugo rolls his eyes, shooing off his friends before turning back to you, the angered expression he once had completely wiped off.

his sight finally falls back onto you as he walks back over and getting comfortable in his bed again, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close to his chest as he interlocks his legs with yours.

if anyone saw the position bakugo was in now, they wouldn’t believe their eyes. angry, aggressive bakugo laid up with a girl, holding onto her so gently as he kisses her forehead, watching some bullshit movie you know he has no interest in watching, and all for his sweet little girlfriend who everyone now seems to think holds him hostage so he can’t hang out with his boys.

and all because he simply just wants to spend all his time with his girlfriend.

“you’re such a lover boy.”, you smile at him, knowing how embarrassed he gets when you say things like this.

“shut up.”, he grumbles, partly hiding his face in the covers as he continues watching the movie with you, back where he wanted to be.

he knows you’re right. you have this man absolutely whipped for you and he couldn’t even care less about it.

© dollbrbie | don’t plagiarise or translate any of my work

[grenadehearts]

soft domestic katsuki sighhh

Thinking about Bakugo—all grumpy and exhausted from a grueling day at work. New scars stretch across his rough skin, marks you’ll be sure to kiss better come morning. But right now, you’re peacefully asleep, and he knows it—knows it before he even reaches the front door of your shared home.

He wants so badly to slam that door, to let the pent-up rage from the day crash out of him in a storm of noise and haphazard explosions. He wants to stomp through the house, muddy boots and all. But he doesn’t. Why?

Because his precious baby is sleeping.

So instead, he exhales through clenched teeth and fumbles with the keys, biting back the frustrated grunt that aches in his throat. The door opens with a soft click. He knocks his heavy boots off by the mat, not bothering to untie them, too worn down to care—but careful all the same, because you're upstairs, dreaming peacefully.

He creeps up the stairs, every muscle in his body burning with fatigue. He's got a raging migraine, grime still clinging to his skin, fingers twitching from adrenaline mingled with leftover fury, and a desperate need to touch you. But none of that matters. Not when he sees the little signs you left behind—proof you tried to stay up for him.

A blanket tossed over the couch. A half-melted pint of your favorite ice cream abandoned on the counter. A tipped glass of wine, the red staining the coffee table in a messy splash. It should annoy him—hell, with anyone else, it would—but with you? You're so messy and soft and sweet that he could drown in it. And oh, he would. Happily.

Everything that spills from your mouth is like honey to him. He’s desperate to lap it up, memorize it, let it coat every raw part of him. He makes a silent promise to himself to clean everything up in the morning. Maybe even stop by that café you like on his morning run. The thought soothes something in him.

But for now, his soul aches for you.

His body is breaking down, his head pounding, but his heart won’t let him rest until he’s by your side—until he’s close enough to feel your warmth in the quiet dark. So he continues up the stairs as silently as a man of his stature can manage.

And there you are.

Your pretty, doll-like head rests on the pillow, soft locks spread around you like a halo. Your lips part slightly with every gentle breath, forming a perfect “O,” and your lashes flutter in sleep like you’re dreaming something sweet. He stares, caught in the stillness, overwhelmed by how much he loves you.

He wants to crawl into your arms, bury his face in your neck, and feel the steady beat of your heart against his chest. But he needs to shed the day first—to wash the grime and blood and exhaustion from his bones.

So he moves to the bathroom, runs the water scalding hot, and lets it sting as it washes him clean. He stands there, eyes closed, letting the heat dig into his muscles while images of you flicker behind his eyelids.

When he finally steps out, he dries off, slips on a pair of boxers, and pads back to your room. The bed welcomes him like a sigh, and he lowers himself slowly beside you, careful not to wake you—at least not fully.

But like always, you stir.

Just enough. Your lashes flutter again, and your body shifts instinctively, head turning until your ear rests over his heart. You don’t say anything, and neither does he. You never do.

But both of you lie there, breathing together, listening to the rhythm of each other's heartbeats in the dark.

Because everything is okay, as long as you end the day in the same bed together.

masterlist link here. i lwk hate this bye

taglist: @lotusstarr @luvseraphh @candiiee @xoxojisu @cvnt4him @cupkiki @wokar @soundtrqck @princessshnazzy @chlosology @203steph @chitteringcicadaeyes @idk1187 @notartemis777 @chosostonguepiercing @chocolatedefendorbaa @t33th--r0t @3lenaatvt @the-faceless-bride @tuneinwlosers @moonstonejpg @dollyfetti

[writeriguess]

Hii!! If you can, can you write Katsuki x fem reader where reader is scared of being intimate with Katsuki because she's very insecure about her body and Katsuki reassures her? It can be both comfort and smut!! XOXO

To Worship

Katsuki wasn’t stupid. He could tell when something was off, especially when it came to you.

He noticed it in the way your body stiffened whenever his hands wandered beneath your shirt. The way your breath hitched, not from pleasure, but hesitation. The way you pulled back just before things went too far.

It pissed him off—not because you weren’t giving in, but because you were holding yourself back. From him.

Tonight was no different. You were straddling his lap, lips swollen from his kisses, body warm and trembling in his arms, but the moment his fingers slipped beneath your top, you tensed.

"Oi," he muttered, pulling back to look you in the eye. "The fuck’s goin’ on?"

You shook your head quickly. "Nothing."

"That’s bullshit." His crimson eyes burned into yours, sharp but not unkind. "Talk to me."

You swallowed hard, trying to look away, but he grabbed your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Y/N."

Your chest ached at how soft he said your name.

"I just…" You exhaled shakily. "I don’t want to disappoint you."

His brows furrowed, irritation flashing across his face. "What the hell does that mean?"

You bit your lip. "I’m not… perfect, Katsuki. My body isn’t—"

"Don’t you dare finish that sentence." His voice was rough, but his touch was gentle as his hands moved to your waist. "You think I give a fuck about that?"

Your vision blurred with unshed tears. "I don’t want you to see me and—"

"Tch." Katsuki scoffed, then leaned in, brushing his lips over yours. "You’re fuckin’ perfect to me."

You gasped softly as he kissed you again, slower this time. His fingers traced over your skin with a reverence that made your heart ache.

"You don’t gotta hide from me, baby," he murmured against your lips. "Lemme show you how much I love every damn part of you."

Your breath stuttered as he guided you onto your back, his body hovering over yours. His hands, usually rough and calloused, worshipped your curves, tracing over every dip, every scar, every so-called imperfection like they were something sacred.

"God, you’re beautiful," he muttered, voice thick with want. "Can’t believe you ever doubted that."

Heat pooled in your stomach as he kissed his way down your body, worshipping every inch of you with lips and tongue. The tenderness in his touch made your insecurities feel so small, so insignificant.

And when he finally pressed into you, stretching you so perfectly, he held you close, his forehead resting against yours.

"You feel that?" he groaned, voice shaking. "That’s how much I fuckin’ love you, baby."

A soft whimper escaped your lips as he moved, slow and deep, his hands gripping yours as he made love to you like he had all the time in the world.

No rush. No shame. Just him showing you, over and over again, just how beautiful you were in his eyes.

And for the first time, you believed it.

Katsuki moved with a kind of intensity that left you breathless—not the usual rough, explosive passion he carried in everything he did, but something deeper. Something unshakably devoted.

His hands never stopped moving, mapping out every part of your body with deliberate care. When your breath hitched as his fingers traced a soft curve or a spot you weren’t fond of, he lingered there, pressing firm, open-mouthed kisses to your skin as if to tell you, I love this. I love you.

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he groaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he pushed deeper, hips rolling slow and deliberate. “So tight… fuck, baby.”

Your legs trembled around his waist, pleasure sparking through every nerve as he kept you close—chest to chest, fingers tangled with yours. His pace never faltered, never rushed, stretching the moment between you like something precious.

A whimper slipped from your lips, and Katsuki was on you immediately, capturing the sound with a kiss, swallowing it down like he needed it to breathe.

“S’okay, baby,” he whispered, thumb brushing over your cheek as he kissed you again, softer this time. “You don’t gotta hide from me. Ever.”

You let out a shaky breath, overwhelmed by the way he was looking at you—like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Tears pricked at your eyes, and Katsuki’s expression softened, his thrusts slowing to a near stop as he cupped your face.

“Shit, baby,” he murmured, brushing his lips against your eyelids, kissing away the tears that slipped free. “Didn’t mean to make you cry.”

You shook your head quickly. “No, it’s… it’s not bad.”

His brow furrowed, but he didn’t press. Instead, he leaned in, his voice dropping into something rough and tender all at once.

“You believe me now?” he asked, hips shifting just enough to make you shudder.

You gasped, fingers tightening against his as heat coiled deep in your stomach.

“Katsuki—”

“Say it,” he rasped, his other hand slipping down your waist, pressing into the flesh there like he was grounding himself in you. “Say you believe me.”

You swallowed hard, body trembling beneath him, pleasure crackling through your veins like wildfire.

“I—” You gasped as he pushed deeper, hitting the spot that made you see stars. “I believe you.”

A low groan rumbled in his chest, his grip tightening. “Damn right, you do.”

His pace picked up just enough to steal your breath, his lips never leaving yours as he guided you to the edge with slow, deep strokes that left you unraveling beneath him.

“Let go, baby,” he murmured against your mouth. “I got you.”

And with one last roll of his hips, you shattered, pleasure crashing over you in waves. Katsuki followed right after, burying himself deep with a groan, his grip unrelenting as he spilled into you.

For a long moment, all you could hear was your own heartbeat, the slow, steady rise and fall of your breaths mingling with his.

Then, Katsuki shifted, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before pulling you into his arms.

“You ain’t ever gotta doubt yourself again,” he murmured, voice thick with exhaustion and something softer.

You curled into him, chest aching in the best way, and whispered,

“I won’t.”

[yukioos]

izuku loves to be as close as possible

izuku was always touching you. he always had his hand on you or arms wrapped around you in some way, wanting to be close to you at all times. he especially loved the touch you gave him as well, whether it was a hand rubbing his cheek, your lips touching his, a hug, or something else.

he enjoyed it because it made him feel so loved. he tried to have skin-to-skin contact with you whenever he could, finding comfort in your heartbeat and breathing.

so when the two of you are in your room and getting ready for bed, izuku thinks about a position he should sleep in. should he spoon you? should you spoon him? what was he supposed to do?

but he suddenly had an idea, and hopefully you would be comfortable with it. he took his shirt off with ease and threw it onto your chair. then, he shyly crawled under your shirt, making sure you didn’t have a bra on. he needed to fully feel you, after all.

you mumbled, “what’re you doing, zu?” and felt his chest and head on your chest, he let out a soft laugh.

“just want to feel you. is this okay?”

“it is, baby. don’t worry about it.” you reassured, rubbing his back as both of your chests were touching.

his strong, muscular arms wrapped around your waist, and his head poked out through your neckline. his soft hair tickled your chin and cheeks, but you played with it nonetheless. he mumbled in satisfaction, loving how your hands were all over him.

izuku’s lips eventually found their way to your neck, kissing the soft skin a few times before stopping. in response, you kissed his forehead, feeling his smile on your collarbone.

it didn’t take long for either of you to fall asleep, and he rested with dreams about you.

haii another izuku writing!! sry if this one was boring

[ghostcore3]

tomura shigaraki finishes his food like a damn gremlin and then the moment you come to eat yours, he suddenly remembers he’s starving and shoves himself in, eating like he didn’t just devour an entire meal ten minutes ago. he doesn’t even want your food, he just wants to make it inconvenient for you, bite into it while staring dead in your face like

“what the fuck are you gonna do about it?”

it’s not hunger, it’s dominance. kurogiri’s in the back sighing like a tired single mother, scolding him for being a dick again, but tomura doesn’t give a shit. he chews slow just to piss you off.

[transparentstrawberrysoul]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, TOMURA SHIGARAKI 🎉🎉🎉🎉🥳🧤

Happy Birthday, Tomura Shigaraki ❤️‍🩹🎮 - April 4th || My Hero Academia

[m1stm3]

now playing…

fragile by laufey

↺ |◁ II ▷| ♡

tenko shimura x reader

“mist stop w all of the domestic bliss drabbles!” NO!!!!!! n e ways here’s post rehabilitation tenko :)

cw’s!!: gn! reader, bathing together (nonsexual), not canon compliant!! (he’s in rehab and staying w UR family :]), he is so emotionally constipated i luv him, andddd i think that’s it!! ^.^

wc: 673

“are you sure this is okay?” tenko’s voice is soft from his spot behind you. there’s a quiet sound of the lukewarm — not either of your preferences for temperature, but it was better for his skin — water sloshing when he shifted to hook his chin over your shoulder, his rough cheek lightly brushing against yours.

you know why he’s asking that, but you act oblivious. “it’s late, i’m sure my family doesn’t mind us hogging the bathroom while they’re asleep.” his arms unconsciously tighten around your middle.

“no, like-“ he lets out a small huff, cutting off his own words. it sounds like he’s about to drop the topic altogether just because he can’t find the right words, but he continues. you’re happy he’s learning to grow out of that habit.

“is this okay…? staying here, i mean.”

“tenko, my family really likes you.” he falters.

“i don’t understand how they could…”

“because i love you, so they love you too.”

his lips pull into a small frown at that.

“they can’t just ignore what i’ve done, they’d be stupid to do that.” there’s a lilt of irritation behind his words but you know better than to take it personally.

“they’re not ignoring what you’ve done. they trust you, tenko.” there’s always this annoying adoration in your voice whenever you say his new (old?) name that he has to stop himself from snapping back at. it’s not that he disliked it — not at all — but it just… didn’t make sense to him. it made him feel oblivious, like you were keeping a secret from him despite how vocal your praise always was.

you sigh softly when his brows furrow, your hand coming up to gently smooth out the familiar little wrinkle between them.

“they trust us.” you reiterate.

“well they shouldn’t.”

you raise a brow at that.

“why not?”

his lips pull into an unconscious little pout (a habit you didn’t dare bring to his attention even after all of these years. not out of fear of him getting angry — out of fear of him forcing the small vulnerability away).

“because obviously i’m still evil and you have some sort of weird stockholm syndrome that you refuse to acknowledge.” you have to bite back a laugh at his sudden petulance.

“no, baby, i don’t have any sort of stockholm syndrome.”

“see.” he grumbles, clearly convinced by his own astute observations.

you can’t fight the small snicker that leaves you at that, but you decide to humor him for a moment.

“alright, so i have stockholm syndrome. how exactly are you still evil?”

he thinks on your question for a second.

“i’m mean and antisocial and i dusted your brothers game controller the other day…” your smile grows.

“and i still hate heroes and i-” he continues for a moment only to stop when he sees the widening smile on your face. god, you’re so irritating…

“what?” he grits out, unable to hide the small flush on his face. he’d blame it on the steam from the lukewarm bath later.

“no, nothing.” his eyes narrow in suspicion.

“really, tenko, it’s nothing.” a small laugh laces your words when he continues glaring at you. he doesn’t say anything, expecting you to fold and tell him what’s on your mind with just a look (you would, of course. neither of you were known for having strong resolves against each other).

“it’s just…” you pause, contemplating how to word your thoughts.

“… you’re human, tenko. last time i checked there’s nothing evil about that.”

he pauses, considering your words for a long moment. he’s human. he has preferences and flaws and makes mistakes because he’s human — not because he’s evil. it’s common sense but it still takes him aback for some reason. how irritating.

he brings up his hand from under the water, pressing his wet palm to your cheek to push your face away from his flushed one.

“that’s a stupid thing to say.” is the only thing he says in response. you smile.

“i know.”

[filmtvcentral]

You’re amazing, Rody! That’s true... I am pretty cool.

僕のヒーローアカデミア MY HERO ACADEMIA: WORLD HEROES’ MISSION 2021 | dir. Kenji Nagasaki

[dabiinferno]

hello

[dollbrbie]

i’m a beautician so kinda self indulgent lol

thinking about a beautician!reader practicing her beauty treatments on her reluctant boyfriend, bakugo.

whether it’s because you’re bored or because you feel like you need to practice more for a certain treatment, you always make you boyfriend your little guinea pig.

“i don’t want to do this anymore.”, bakugo grunts as you apply hot wax to the centre of his brows.

“but baby, you said i could practice!”

“yeah but it hurts.”, he complains with an eye roll, causing a giggle to escape your lips.

“you’ll look real cute after, though.”, you reply before grabbing a wax strip to the side of you, placing it on the centre of his brows.

“i’m a guy i don’t need to-”, his sentence is soon cut off with a loud groan as you rip off the wax strip, noticing the amount of blonde hair on the strip.

“jesus, baby. your brows were so hairy.”

“you weren’t even gonna give me a countdown?”, he complains, his brows furrowed and red.

“stop being a baby. don’t you wanna be a supportive boyfriend?”, you ask, swirling your wooden stick in your wax pot, ready to wax beneath his brows this time.

he grumbles, “yes..”

you smile with a hum, pecking his forehead as he sighs to himself. the things this man does to make you happy.

© dollbrbie | don’t plagiarise or translate any of my work

[shinymoonbraixen]

Happy Birthday Shigaraki!

You will forever be missed as the best villain of all time.

No like seriously, you was faster than Sonic.

[grenadehearts]

౨ৎ lazy mornings with ochako, legs tangled together, the soft snoring of her breathing. the sun shining in through the delicate lace of the curtains, highlighting her auburn locks messily cascading down her flushed face. her pale pink tank top rising up her midriff, exposing milky tanned skin that you know—if you were to touch—would melt into your fingertips like molten lava.

and she’ll stir, straight into your arms, as you stare at her with messy strands loose from your braid—the one she did last night with doting hands. and her wide doe eyes will open, lashes fluttering gracefully, and you’ll see the milky brown reminding you of creamer being stirred into coffee. of deer frolicking in the meadow, white spots and all. of silky lace ribbons tied in hair.

and you’ll playfully jab and knead at each other’s skin, neither wanting to get up, rolling around and tangling in the covers until you end back up side by side. warm hands on even warmer skin. the sun covering you both like a halo. the blanket laid loosely on the edge as you run fingers through hair and swap gloss, tasting the cherry chapstick on her plush lips.

pulling away with a dopey grin.

“mmm, strawberry?”

and she’ll giggle and hide her face into the pillow—because you guessed it right (you always do). and you’ll follow her movements, tickling her skin, causing her to squirm and laugh until the sound melts away.

and then you’re above her, peering into her eyes—the color of your shared irises swirling and mixing together into something almost digestible. and her face will light up a rosy pink, and you’ll press soft kisses all over her until the sun gets exceptionally bright and your cat comes in, tail swooshing in the air with soft meows, letting you both know it’s time to start the day.

ochako gets out of bed with a delicate yawn and a stretch of her limbs, revealing her sleep shorts with little teddy bears on them. and you’ll shoot her a daring grin, and she’ll beam—round cheeks and all—as she races you to the kitchen. footsteps pattering against the wooden floor, socks slipping on tile until you both reach the kitchen, breathless and giggling, gripping onto each other and the counter for support.

and you’ll bicker over who makes breakfast, dopey grins all the while, both so desperate to spoil the other that you settle on just doing it together. although she has a way of coaxing you easily, so you’re seated on the kitchen counter, legs dangling off the ledge as she mixes pancake batter. and you’re eating strawberries out of the carton while she flips pancakes, and as they sizzle into the heat of the pan, you’re tugging on her tank top, pulling her straight into you, settled between your legs.

you feed her strawberries and rub the red-tinged berry around her lips before kissing her—lapping the sickly sweet nectar off her mouth.

she tastes like springtime. like swimming in the lake where lily pads rest. like rolling down an open field where flowers cling to your skin and lighten your soul.

and you’ll shove the fork with fluffy sweetness—powdered sugar and syrup clinging to it—into your mouth, but it’ll never taste as sweet as ochako’s lips on yours. and you’ll lay cross-legged with matching tummy aches, endlessly flipping through the channels, only to find there’s nothing nearly as interesting on tv as ochako’s sweet voice filtering through the air, straight to your heart.

and the day will pass by quietly, and before you know it, the sun will set and the animals will rest. your bedroom floor will be coated in thrown shirts. the house will smell of cinnamon and vanilla from the baked cookies. the bathroom will still have the soft glow of dimly lit candles, and the scent of ochako’s cherry blossom shampoo will drift throughout the master bath to the bed you’re laying on—bubbles still drifting in the air from the bath you both shared mere moments ago, skin lathered in perfumy scents, tangled bodies sinking into warm sheets.

and you’ll lay on the bed, the mattress sinking you further and further down, covers hung over bodies, fingers intertwined, moving in harmony with breathless gasps of overwhelming ecstasy—twisted in each other’s entropy.

and you’ll taste the moonlight on her lips. you’ll taste every season that passes—from spring showers to december’s chill. and you won’t be able to rest until you hear the sound of her breathing that soothes you to sleep.

౨ৎ masterlist link here.

taglist: @luvseraphh @lotusstarr @cupkiki @candiiee @wokar @tuneinwlosers @the-faceless-bride @3lenaatvt @t33th--r0t @chocolatedefendorbaa @chosostonguepiercing @notartemis777 @idk1187 @chitteringcicadaeyes @xoxojisu @203steph @cvnt4him @princessshnazzy @chlosology @soundtrqck

[writeriguess]

Hellooo!! Could you write a female Omega! Reader X Alpha! Katsuki bakugou where he used to bully her growing up for being quirckless ,just like Deku, and an omega. Reader didn't go to UA so they haven't seen each other in years until katsuki bumps into her (you could change it to him saving her or anything you want) and he realizes that she's the omega he's meant to be with (so kinda like soulmates). Angst to Smut 😉

Thank you!!!

Fated Scars

The city was buzzing with life—too bright, too loud, and too damn hot for Bakugou Katsuki’s liking. Even the air tasted scorched, a reminder of the fight that had ripped through the streets earlier. He gritted his teeth, irritation crackling under his skin as he stomped away from the scene.

The villains were handled, civilians evacuated, and the media was already swarming, but he was done. He could practically hear the reporters shouting, "Dynamight! Dynamight!" No thanks. He wasn’t in the mood for ass-kissing or questions.

But just as he turned a corner, he collided with something soft and unsteady. A startled gasp escaped, and he glanced down, eyes narrowing.

“Watch where the hell you’re—” Katsuki froze.

Wide, terrified eyes stared up at him—eyes he hadn’t seen in years. The same eyes he used to sneer at, taunt, and belittle. The same eyes that belonged to the quirkless, weak little omega he’d mocked throughout childhood. The girl who never fought back, who always cowered.

But she wasn’t a girl anymore.

You were older now, curves filling out your frame, soft and warm against his hard chest. The scent of vanilla and wildflowers, laced with the faintest hint of omega heat, drifted from you. Katsuki’s mouth went dry, the hairs on his arms standing on end. A primal surge of possessiveness roared to life inside him.

His omega.

No—there’s no way. That’s fucking impossible.

But the bond tugged at him, demanding he pull you close, mark you, make you his. Katsuki’s nostrils flared, pupils blown wide. He growled low in his throat. “The hell are you doing here, runt?”

You flinched, clutching your bag closer. “J-Just passing through.”

Katsuki scoffed, his lip curling. “The hell you are. City’s dangerous, and you’re out here with no protection?”

“I can take care of myself,” you shot back, but your voice wavered.

He snorted. “Bullshit.”

A car backfired nearby, and you jumped, eyes squeezing shut. That scent hit him again—sweet, addictive, unmistakably omega. Katsuki’s cock twitched in his pants, and he clenched his fists, trying to shove down the urge to haul you away and sink his teeth into your neck.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “You’re in heat.”

Your face turned red, and you backed up a step. “I-I’m fine. It’s just—”

Katsuki grabbed your arm, the grip firm but not painful. “Like hell you are. Come with me. Now.”

You found yourself dragged into an empty alley before you could protest, the cool shade a stark contrast to the heat pooling in your belly. Katsuki loomed over you, his scent wrapping around you—ash, caramel, and something wild and possessive. It clouded your thoughts, made your legs wobble.

“Thought you ran off with Deku and the others,” he snarled. “What’re you doing out here alone?”

“I didn’t run off. I never went to UA.” You met his glare, defiance flickering. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

Katsuki’s eyes narrowed. “Still mouthy.”

You stiffened, memories of his sneers and harsh words resurfacing. He’d always been cruel, tearing you down for being weak, quirkless, and an omega. The perfect victim. But now... now you could feel his eyes devouring you, the anger laced with something darker.

A shiver ran down your spine. “Let me go.”

“No,” Katsuki growled, stepping closer until your back pressed against the wall. His lips curled into a smirk. “Not when you smell like that.”

The heat inside you burned hotter. You hated him—had spent years nursing resentment and hurt—but your body betrayed you, slick already gathering between your thighs. You gasped when his nose brushed your neck, inhaling deeply.

“Fuck,” he grunted. “You smell too damn good.”

Your pulse raced. “Stop—”

“Can’t,” he rasped, grinding his hips against yours. You felt the hard press of his cock and whimpered, thighs rubbing together. “You’re mine, omega. Always have been.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but his lips crashed into yours, swallowing your gasp. Rough and possessive, his mouth claimed yours, teeth scraping and tongue demanding. A moan slipped free before you could stop it, and Katsuki growled in approval.

His hands roamed, fingers digging into your hips as he lifted you effortlessly, pinning you against the wall. The scrape of brick bit into your back, but the discomfort was drowned out by the ache between your legs.

“Gonna mark you,” he snarled, lips trailing down your neck. “Show everyone who you belong to.”

Katsuki’s hands were everywhere—rough palms sliding under your shirt, fingers tracing heated patterns over your skin. His mouth latched onto your neck, sharp teeth grazing your scent gland as he rumbled low in his chest. The possessive sound vibrated through you, setting every nerve alight.

“Fuckin’ mine,” he growled, tongue flicking over your pulse. The claim made your thighs tremble, slick soaking your panties. His nose brushed the sensitive spot again, inhaling deeply as his hands roamed lower, yanking your shirt up to expose your bra. “Missed out on all this? Idiot.”

Heat flared in your cheeks, embarrassment mingling with the burning need. “You hated me,” you gasped, arching into his touch.

Katsuki’s crimson eyes blazed. “Shut up.” His hands squeezed your waist possessively. “Didn’t hate you. Didn’t know what the hell to do with you.”

He tugged your bra down, exposing your breasts to the cool air. A whimper slipped from your lips as he leaned in, hot mouth closing around a hardened nipple. The sensation shot straight to your core, and your hips bucked against his. Katsuki groaned, teeth scraping lightly as he sucked, leaving marks in his wake.

“Sensitive,” he muttered, smirking against your skin. “Bet you’ve never even been touched, huh? All those fuckin’ extras too scared to claim a little quirkless omega?”

Shame twisted your stomach, but the taunt sent a thrill of arousal through you. You wanted to snap back, deny him, but your body betrayed you, desperate for more. Katsuki’s eyes darkened as he read your expression.

“Fuck,” he rasped, shoving his knee between your legs to spread them. “That wet for me already? Pathetic.”

Heat flooded your face, but a broken moan escaped when his fingers slid down, brushing the soaked fabric of your panties. He groaned, rubbing slow circles, and your knees buckled.

Katsuki growled. “Stay up,” he ordered, one arm wrapping around your waist to pin you against the wall. The roughness made your head spin, instinctual submission washing over you. His fingers slipped beneath your panties, calloused digits gliding through your slick folds.

“Shit,” he cursed. “Dripping already, huh? Such a needy little omega.”

You squirmed, biting back a whimper. “K-Katsuki—”

“Shut up,” he snapped, fingers circling your clit before plunging deep. The intrusion made you cry out, body clenching around him as he pumped steadily. His thumb teased your clit, rubbing rough circles that sent sparks dancing through your vision.

“Feel good?” he taunted, lips brushing your ear. “Bet no one else has ever fucked you right. Too weak, too scared of a bratty omega.”

Your pride flared, but his fingers curled just right, and the insult melted into a moan. Katsuki grinned wickedly. “That’s what I thought. Made for me, weren’t you? Perfect little pussy just begging to be fucked.”

The words made your core tighten, a whimper escaping as he withdrew his fingers and shoved them between your lips. The taste of yourself hit your tongue, and Katsuki’s eyes burned as he watched you suck obediently.

“Good girl,” he praised, voice low and rough. “Knew you’d be like this—just needed a real alpha to show you your place.”

He shoved your panties down, the fabric tearing as he yanked them aside. Your breath caught as he unzipped his pants, cock springing free—thick, hard, and intimidatingly large. Katsuki didn’t give you time to react, hoisting you up until your thighs wrapped around his waist.

“You’re mine,” he growled, lining himself up. “And I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”

The stretch was overwhelming, a burning ache that made you gasp. Katsuki gritted his teeth, hips pressing forward as he filled you inch by inch. The possessiveness in his gaze made your heart pound, fear and arousal tangling into a heady rush.

“Fuck,” he groaned, finally bottoming out. “Tight little omega cunt—squeezing me so good.”

You trembled, nails digging into his shoulders. “Too big,” you whimpered, walls fluttering.

Katsuki’s grin was all sharp teeth and dominance. “You can take it,” he rasped. “Made for me, remember?”

He set a brutal pace, hips snapping against yours as he fucked you against the wall. The friction was intoxicating, every thrust knocking the breath from your lungs. You clawed at his back, legs quaking around his waist as he hit spots that made you see stars.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Katsuki growled, watching your face twist in pleasure. “Look at you—drunk on my cock. Already so fucked out, and I’m not even close.”

Tears pricked your eyes as his pace grew rougher, fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise. He leaned in, teeth scraping your neck before biting down—not hard enough to mark, but enough to remind you who was in control.

“You’re mine,” he snarled, possessive and wild. “Always been mine. Say it.”

You gasped as he slammed deeper, brain fogged with lust. “Y-Yours—always yours!”

The words snapped something in him. Katsuki’s grip tightened, hips driving harder as the slick sound of skin against skin filled the air. His thrusts turned erratic, desperation lacing his movements.

“Gonna fill you up,” he groaned. “Mark you—make sure everyone knows you’re mine.”

Your climax tore through you, walls fluttering and squeezing around him as pleasure overwhelmed your senses. Katsuki cursed, hips stuttering before he buried himself deep, hot and throbbing as he spilled inside you.

Panting, he rested his forehead against yours, breaths mingling. The bond thrummed between you, a pulse of satisfaction and completion.

“Fuck,” he muttered, lips brushing your temple. “You’re stuck with me now, princess.”

You trembled, weak and aching, but the possessiveness in his eyes made warmth bloom in your chest. Katsuki smirked, thumb tracing your jaw.

“Better get used to it.”

[dynachan]

[dyn4mightz]

Corruption begins at home— because home is the first place Power is given, to abuse it or to shape it.

I'm sitting in a corner, hugging my knees and thinking about how powerless and helpless little Tenko Shimura must've felt when he was relentlessly, consistently abused by his own father....

while everyone else only watched.

The comparison between Tenko and Izuku is popular with how Izuku receives loves and emotional availablity when his family discovered that he was quirkless.

But don't you think both Shimura's and Todoroki's family are parallels too, even more than Tenko-Izuku?

One family stood on the sidelines...a mother and grandparents who couldn't do anything but look away, a sister who betrays in fear of punishment...and little Hana watches the adults in the family actively avoid the wrath of their oppressors, now internalizes silence and avoidance as safety.

"If I say nothing, maybe I’ll be safe. If I give them what they want, maybe I’ll be spared.”

Embedded, in the child's neural pathways:

Fawn and Freeze.

This is a common trauma response, especially when the family seems to be financially dependent on the Opressor— Tenko's father.

A rich business man at a young age.

Another family, on the other hand... actively protects and grieves each other, each family member had their own role, even to defend the oppressor, Endeavour himself.

FIGHT AND FLIGHT.

Fuyumi who yearns for repair and redemption.

Natsuo who holds Endeavour accountable.

Rei who claims her voice.

Shoto.... we have watched little Shoto defend his mother, punching his tiny fists in the air to create a distance between his mother and father.

(We all hear the joke: "He's punching the air."

But Shoto knows Endeavour would fear accidentally harming his prize and weapon more than harming his wife on purpose.

Shoto Todoroki at age 5, was already rather emotionally intelligent given how he detaches himself from trauma and intellectualize it as a coping mechanism.)

And Toya...Oh, Toya Todorki. The Icarus, the Lucifer, the reminder of grief, regret and karmic backlash. If I were to write about him, it'll overshadow Shimura's analysis.

But here's the conclusion:

The Todoroki family doesn't look away. They confront.

Seems like trauma is shaped by the family's collective trauma response, doesn't it? It creates a whole different dynamic and structure of identity, doesn't it?

Had the Shimura family dynamic been a little different, would Tenko even become Shigaraki in the end?

AFO's plans rely simply on the nature of others, it seems like. The cause-effect that he predicts rather than direct intervention.

Would that just not prove him right?

Had the old lady on the streets helped Tenko when he was alone and scared, had the heroes come to his rescue...would Tenko have a chance at being a child instead of doomed to be a calamity?

It is as if he knows, after all, everything falls into place as it should've happened. Everyone is reacting the way they are meant to. Their nature, compels them to.

With strong principles of cause-effect and knowledge of everyone's past, perhaps AFO had gambled the entire future as a fatalist manipulator with pure determinism.

All For One doesn’t play god.

He plays odds. A calculated nihilist betting on decay