#Me??? Projecting heavily onto bakugou???

[chaos-is-beautifvl]

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: bakugou katsuki x implied fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: in which the stupidest of stupidities is two oblivious people who think they’re not good enough for the other ||preview here

𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠: fluff, so. much. pining, no use of y/n, bakugou being affectionate in his own aggresive way, mineta (that should be warning enough), cursing - it’s bakugou, what did you expect?

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.7k (2788)

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 💌: posting this later than anticipated but for good reason because i graduated last week! i’m considering writing a part 2 with some scenes i didn’t include. let me know if you’d be interested!

p.s. requests are 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 || guidelines here p.s.s. check out my other fics here!

buy me a coffee ☕️! (for support!)

✸-✸-✸

The falling of the rain on the roof mixed with the quiet chatter of the classroom. A wistful sigh left your mouth as you stared out the window, watching the droplets fall. It was a race, and while, at first, your rain droplet was in the lead, it was now moving slowly along the glass.

“I’m gonna win.”

You tilted your head towards the speaker, eyes still on the window. “Being fast doesn’t always guarantee victory. Ever heard the tale of the tortoise and the hare?” You added after hearing a quiet scoff and a mumble of ‘yeah, well, we’ll see.’

“Yes, we will,” you replied, laughing softly.

Not even five seconds later, your rain droplet caught up with its competitor, sliding down to the window pane (or, in this case, the finish line). You took your attention off the window, redirecting it to the blond sitting behind you, “Told you — slow and steady wins the race.”

“Tch.” He grunted, arms crossing over his chest. “I’ll get you next time.”

You couldn’t help the grin that surfaced as you turned to the front of the classroom, “I’ll be counting on it.”

The end of the day came quicker than anticipated. You weren’t sure how much time had passed since Mr. Aizawa reminded the class of an upcoming exam, but soon enough, the final bell rang, shaking you from your daze.

You would be lying if you said you weren’t happy about class ending. With the cold, rainy weather and your restlessness the night before, you were beyond tired and wanted some much-needed rest.

Just as you were about to leave, a business-course student approached you, wanting your opinion for a survey. They explained it was for a project they had procrastinated on, and as much as you would have liked to retreat to your room, you couldn’t help but empathize with them. After all, procrastination was no stranger to you.

You were thankful that the survey only took about ten minutes to complete. But when you looked outside the window and noticed the heavily-falling rain, you wanted to sink into the floor. You double-checked that you had your things and then remembered something as you were about to leave.

You had forgotten your umbrella. Of course, you did.

You went to bed late the night before, and in your body’s attempt to give you more rest, you’d almost slept through your alarm. In a rush, you didn’t check the weather like usual. And your classmates had already left to return to the dorms leaving you on your lonesome.

As you grumpily exited the building, you thought of how useful Yayorozu’s quirk was in such situations. Just to your luck, the downpour became even heavier as you rushed back to the dorms. At this point, you wished you could hide under a rock until your unluckiness disappeared.

The ground was slippery as you jogged to shelter, attempting to avoid falling and injuring yourself. By the time you’d returned, the rain had soaked through your clothes, and you felt an impending cold. Sniffles could be heard as you trudged to the elevators.

Your clothes clung to your skin, the wetness sending shivers throughout your tired body. You clutched onto your backpack, thankful it was waterproof, unlike the rest of your body. You’d hate it if your notes were ruined.

You must have been dozing off while waiting for the elevator to open because a thunk came to your forehead. Your eyes shot open, blearily taking in Bakugou standing before you, red eyes staring in what looked like discontent. You opened your mouth to speak when he shook his head, mumbling ‘idiot’ under his breath.

You didn’t reply, only looking at him. “Hey, dumbass, the hell are you staring at?” Your eyes widened in surprise as you quickly averted your gaze, embarrassed at him having to call you out.

“Sorry, Bakugou,” you said sheepishly. “I’m just tired.”

“And wet.”

Your mind went straight to the gutter, and you cursed yourself when the blond raised an eyebrow at your non-response response. The corner of Katsuki’s mouth twitched when he noticed your mild panicked expression. “‘m talking about your clothes, dummy. Don’t go thinking weird shit.”

“Sorry…” you mumbled. You looked down at your clothes, remembering why you were apologizing in the first place. “Right, thanks for pointing it out.”

For some reason, the air felt discomfiting. You weren’t sure why you felt so nervous as you stood beside the blond, wondering what was taking the elevator so long. 

Today couldn’t be more shitty. Not only had you forgotten your umbrella, leaving you soaked, but now you were standing next to the guy you embarrassed yourself in front of. 

(You’ve also harbored feelings for him the past few months, but that’s irrelevant. It’s not like it affected how you acted around him - only it did exactly that). 

You ignored him, staring in a weird daze that probably creeped him out. And then, you misinterpreted his simple observation into something dirty.

It felt like you were inconveniencing the blond. All Bakugou wanted was to get on the elevator, and there you were, staring at him in a daze. Now, he was boring holes into you, and you couldn’t wait to shower and overthink this entire interaction.

The elevator doors opened with a ding, and out came Mineta and Kaminari, whispering to each other about something you were sure you didn’t want to know about. They were so engrossed in their conversation that they hadn’t even noticed you and Bakugou waiting, resulting in them bumping into you two.

You didn’t have time to catch yourself as your still-slippery shoes slid against the floor, causing you to fall. Well, almost. You were already bracing yourself for the impact when you realized that, yes, you were against something firm, but the firm object was also warm.

You opened your squeezed-shut eyes, slowly blinking as you realized you hadn’t hit the floor, which would have been the cherry on top of the horrible afternoon you had so far. Instead, someone’s arm was keeping you steady. While you were initially grateful, it only took one second to recognize who the arm belonged to, and you were immensely embarrassed.

You jumped like a cat touching water. Wrong move. It seemed that you kept forgetting that you were wet, which included your shoes. You almost slipped again - no, correction: you did slip again, but you were also caught again. 

You weren’t sure what was more mortifying, the fact that you were acting like a klutz or the fact that Katsuki was holding you tight to his chest, preventing you from moving.

“Stop moving, dammit. You’re gonna fall or some shit.” Katsuki’s voice was gruff in your ear, and it was then that you realized how close you two were. Your initial reaction was to run away, but after your previous two attempts at simply moving your body, you didn’t think that was wise. 

Besides, being held by Katsuki was something both unexpected and highly appreciated.

His warm body was slowly removing the chill that had settled over yours. But when you registered his mouth so close to you, goosebumps speckled your skin. “You good to stand, or you gonna fall again?”

Your response was a nod because you did not trust your mouth to not further embarrass you. Katsuki’s arms left you, but not before he righted you on your feet, hands lingering on your waist to stabilize you.

He ducked his head, maintaining eye contact while he checked if you were okay with a quirk of his brow. You could feel the heat projecting from your cheeks, and you were relieved he wasn’t holding you as tightly as before.

His vermillion eyes pierced into yours, and you began to realize how rich their color was. You hadn’t noticed how entrancing they were when you suddenly heard the most obnoxious non-whispering.

“Oh my god, this is exactly like the movies, Kaminari. They’re totally gonna make out right now.”

The purple-headed pervert was too busy mumbling inappropriate comments to himself to see an angry blond finally stepping away from you and walking his way. “And we get front-row seats. I wonder if they’re gonna have sex-”

Before Mineta could finish this piercing, a hand smacked him on the head, leaving him wailing. Katsuki leaned down, practically squatting to reach the boy’s height. “Wanna say that pervy shit again, hah?!”

“B-Bakugou, let’s calm down, shall we?” A nervous Kaminari stuttered out. He froze when Katsuki’s harsh glare turned to him. “You know what, never mind. Go- go ahead.”

Katsuki redirected his angry and annoyed attention back to Mineta, who was quivering and shaking like he feared for his life. With the murderous look on the blond’s face, Mineta had every right to feel that way.

Before Katsuki could teach the class pervert a well-deserved lesson, a yell came from the opening elevator doors. In the time you and Katsuki waited for the elevator and were now, unfortunately, dealing with Kaminari and Mineta, more people had loaded onto the elevator and joined your little party.

Iida immediately took notice of the situation and intervened in his class-president fashion. “Bakugou, while I’m sure you believe enacting justice will rid Mineta here of his inappropriate actions, you mustn’t resort to such violence!”

Upon having an audience and a decreasing tolerance, Katsuki grunted, releasing his tight grip on the boy, who rushed to safety far away from the blond, who then rolled his eyes. 

“You say some weird shit like that again, and I’ll kill you. Got it, pipsqueak?!”

“Language!” Iida shouted, waving his arm around like he was directing traffic.

All the yelling and commotion was far too much on your tired and overworked body. You heaved a sigh as Iida reprimanded Katsuki and Mineta. Then Iida criticized himself as he was too loud. 

Unbeknownst to you, Katsuki had noticed your despair, prompting him to grab your hand and shove past the group.

Before Iida could voice his grievances about Katsuki’s apparent rudeness, the blond smashed the elevator’s button closed. You blinked slowly at all of the action that just took place. 

The elevator hadn’t even moved when you remembered that Katsuki was still holding your hand. As warmth dispersed throughout your body, you had one thought.

This is gonna be one long ride…

Your eyes were practically glued to the floor for the treacherously slow ride. You were acutely aware of Katsuki’s hand in yours, and it seemed your other bodily functions weren’t functioning.

You held your breath, afraid it would penetrate the little bubble the two of you were in. Your heartbeat quickened at an alarming rate, and if Bakugou couldn’t hear it, you were sure he could feel the warmth radiating off you.

You felt flushed from your head to your toes. You cursed your very being at the clammy sweat that had begun collecting on your palms because why, oh why, was your body reacting this way?

Your rhetorical question was answered with Katsuki’s burning gaze. If you felt the slightest heat emanating from your awkwardness, the way the blond was once again boring holes in you like you were a wannabe cheese grater made you feel on fire. And not in the empowering sense. 

“Oi,” he grumbled to get your attention. You still didn’t trust yourself, so you acknowledged him with a mere hum and a head tilt. Out of the corner of your eyes, you spotted him rolling his, clearly discontent with your non-verbal answer.

Much to your delight, he didn’t air his grievances and got straight to the point. With a labored sigh, he grunted a statement you weren’t expecting.

“You’re hot.”

And that was when you died. Okay, you can admit that is a slight exaggeration. All that resulted when you tried to express how flabbergasted you were was a strangled squeak.

You certainly wished you were being strangled because maybe that would rid you of today’s perpetual mortification.

“If you’re careless, you’ll catch a fever.” Katsuki continued without a hitch as if he hadn’t witnessed your poor attempt at responding. Well, he is Bakugou Katsuki, so, of course, he noticed. Thankfully for you, he chose not to comment. Though you’d be lying if you said you didn’t catch his mouth twitching in a grin out of your periphery.

“R-Right!” There you go! Actual words like a human. Almost, at least. “I won’t be careless.” Okay, that was better.

The elevator dinged, and you could barely contain your relieved sigh. Finally! You were safe!

The dorm hall was empty, which you were grateful for because you could retreat to your room and replay every embarrassing aspect of today in your head without being interrupted.

You almost forgot you were holding Katsuki’s hand until you were tugged back as you went to exit the elevator. A startled ‘oh!’ escaped you as you prevented yourself from tripping again.

“Oi, dummy,” Katsuki’s gruff voice directed your attention to him. You blinked slowly with bated breath as you waited for him to continue. Of all the times your heart could be fluttering and doing intricate gymnastics, why was it now?

Oh, you know. It’s because of the way Katsuki looks down at you. There’s a look on his face that you can’t quite place. And he holds a wrinkle between his eyebrows, and you have half a mind to smooth it out with your fingers. 

Would that be an excuse to touch his face? Absolutely. No one has to know. Besides, he is way too handsome, pretty, and all the other adjectives that accurately describe how attractive he is.

“Take care of yourself.” Aw, sweet, but a little uncanny. “Or I’ll kill you.” Ah, that’s the Bakugou I know.

“No worries!” You smiled, pleased to form actual coherent words and sentences. Your eyes closed as you beamed up at him, but if they had been open, you would have caught sight of the endearing look on the blond’s face.

✸-✸

To your luck, the weather was pleasant in the morning. You were well rested from the night before, taking Katsuki’s words earnestly. The chirping birds awoke you, and, unlike yesterday, you took your time getting ready for the day.

As you walked, the smell of dewy rain reached your nose, and you couldn’t help laughing at the complete change in weather. Once you made it to class and settled, a low grumble captured your attention. Tilting your head backward, you acknowledged the blond.

“Don’t slack off in training today, idiot.”

His harsh warning only brought a grin to your face. “As long as you don’t slack off either.”

“Hah?!” Katsuki practically shouted. “I never slack off. That’s your ass!”

You couldn’t even contain your snicker at his outburst, “Sure, sure.”

As you bickered - well, it was mostly just Bakugou - your friends surveyed the scene with knowing eyes.

“They’re so oblivious,” Kaminari sighed, resting his cheek on his palm. He had watched the both of you skirting around your feelings for months at this point, and it drove him and the rest of your friends up the wall.

“Kacchan has always been stubborn with his feelings,” Midoriya added as he leaned against Kirishima’s desk. “Ever since we were kids. But I’m happy that Kacchan has someone who makes him smile!”

As if he had a sixth sense, Katsuki stopped bickering with you and turned his attention to the watching group. His gaze narrowed, “The fuck are you extras staring at?!”

Before anyone could bear the wrath of Bakugou Katsuki, Iida intervened. “Bakugou, that is no way to address your fellow classmates! Besides, it is far too early to raise your voice as you are doing! Please calm down!”

The blond rolled his eyes, “You’re doing the same, Glasses.”

Your quiet breath of laughter as Iida attempted to correct himself was heard by Katsuki, who met your gaze. The corner of his mouth upturned, and you had to stop your heart from doing somersaults and reign in the hoard of butterflies that threatened to be released. 

“Hey, Midoriya?” Kirishima asked, “Didn’t you say there was a fancy word for what they have?”

Midoriya racked his brain for a moment before nodding. “Well, the term could apply to anything. It’s not necessarily subject to one thing. Though I guess in their case, morosis could apply. In short, it’s defined as the stupidest of stupidities. I guess one might say that their obliviousness is morosis.”

“So basically, they’re just too dumb to see that they both like each other,” Kaminari affirmed, recalling how you and Katsuki looked at each other yesterday by the elevator. Sigh… if only he had someone that looked at him like that.

✸-✸-✸

[lackyghost]

Four friends walk along the campus grounds of the renowned UA University in Musutafu, Japan. It’s a lovely summer day, the sun warm on their skin as they go, the breeze light and refreshing, carrying the scent of the flowers planted around the elaborate complex of buildings.

Bakugou Katsuki leads the small group by a handful of steps, his uniform jacket and bag alike slung over his shoulder, his spiky, pale blonde hair lightly tapping against it, having grown longer over the years. A few strands fan across his forehead, resting above his angular scarlet eyes.

To his left is Kirishima Eijirou, who is a little shorter than Katsuki, with bright dyed red hair spiked up toward the sky, a sleek undercut showing his black roots. His face holds a bright grin that shows off sharp teeth and lightly crinkles his warm crimson eyes.

On Katsuki’s other side is Sero Hanta, a tall, lanky man with black hair in a shaggy mullet. His black eyes hold a glint of mischief and humor as always, and he has one arm slung around the last man’s shoulders.

Kaminari Denki is the shortest of the four, with bright blonde hair perfectly styled to show off the black lightning bolt clip in his bangs. His copper eyes are as playful as Hanta’s, and he laughs as Hanta teases him about being so angry.

“Yeah, c’mon, man, you need to find a way to de-stress,” Denki teases.

“Shut up,” Katsuki snaps, his usual gruff retort, which just makes the other three laugh.

“Hey, they’re just lookin’ out for you, bro,” Eijirou says, skipping a step to fall in line next to Katsuki.

“Yeah, there’s no way it’s healthy to always be angry,” Hanta says.

“Or maybe you fucks are just impossible to relax around,” Katsuki growls out.

“Pfft, no way, we’re always inviting you to play video games and shit,” Denki says with a huff. “We get that you’re super macho and all, but you don’t need to be so growly.”

“Fuck off, I’m going home,” Katsuki says, clenching his jaw.

Eijirou throws an arm around his shoulder. “Hey, come on, just hang out with us, bro! You’re the manliest guy I know!”

“Stop fucking calling me that,” Katsuki says harshly, shoving his arm off as he storms away from them, slamming his feet down heavily as he veers off, shoulders hunched angrily.

“See ya, Baku-bro!” The three shout after him, and he flips them off over his shoulder.

He ignores the hurt building in his chest as he makes his way to the train station, standing as far from the other people as possible. His face is carefully twisted into his angriest scowl during the fifteen minute ride, and he doesn’t let it falter for the ten minute walk to his apartment building.

He storms up to the second floor and pulls his keys out, shoving them into the lock and harshly opening the door. He drops his bag and jacket beside the door and kicks his shoes off. He jams his feet into his slippers and walks to the living room, dropping his keys onto the coffee table.

He rounds the sofa, where his boyfriend sits, and he takes a moment to look at the man’s spiky white hair, his sharp jaw, face full of piercings, and bright turquoise eyes that soften into goo as he looks at Katsuki.

He opens his arms and Katsuki climbs onto his lap, slumping against him and tucking his face into Todoroki Touya’s neck. He takes in a deep breath, breathing in the man’s deep, musky scent, and releases it as his long arms wrap around him, holding him tight.

Touya presses a soft kiss to his head and keeps his voice low. “How was school?”

“Fucking awful,” Katsuki grumbles.

Touya hums as he rubs soothingly up and down the blonde’s back. “How about you take a shower and get dressed, and I’ll order in for dinner?”

Katsuki nods against his neck and leans back to give him a soft kiss before climbing off his lap and walking to the bedroom and into the attached bathroom of their single-bedroom apartment. He pulls his clothes off, dropping it all into the hamper, and turns the shower on.

He waits silently for it to heat up, and then stands beneath the spray. He grabs his usual orange loofah and squirts some rose-scented body wash onto it, wiping himself down from neck to toe. He grabs his face wash next, closing his eyes as he uses the buffing scrub all over his face and neck.

His hair is last, and he sighs as he scrubs at his scalp with the rose scented shampoo, feeling a little better with his hair length. He rinses that out and goes in with conditioner of the same aroma.

When he’s done rinsing that all off, he grabs his shave gel and lathers up one leg at a time to shave them, repeating under his arms, and he takes a moment to just soak in how soft his legs feel.

He grabs the shower head next, pulling it down and bending over so he can spray his ass, using his other hand to pull his cheek to the side so he can better clean himself out. With that done, he places the shower head back on the mount and turns the water off.

He grabs a towel and pats his hair and face down before moving to the rest of his body. He wraps it around his chest as he walks out into the bedroom, going right to the walk-in closet.

He turns the light on and goes to the back, beyond his dark colored shirts, and he reaches up to trail his fingers along the soft pastel skirts and dresses before choosing a soft baby pink silk dress. He brings it out to the bedroom, laying it out over the bed, and then he goes to the dresser and pulls out a pair of white lace panties and a matching bra.

He pats himself down with the towel again and then walks to the bathroom to put it in the hamper before walking back to the bed. He picks up the panties and lies back on the bed as he gets them around his ankles. He reaches down to his testicles, gently pressing them up inside of himself. He then pulls the panties further on, up to his thighs, and tucks his penis down before pulling the lace underwear on fully.

They’re soft and they make him feel sexy as he sits up, reaching for the bra. It has a little padding at the bottom and the wire beneath the cups help push his pecs up and together, giving him some decent cleavage.

He stands up and lifts the dress, sighing as he lets the silky material fall down over him, the buttery soft fabric laying across his body nicely. When he ties the strings around his waist, it cinches perfectly around his trim waist.

He already feels more like himself as he opens the bedroom door, stepping out and smiling when he sees Touya standing beside the couch, opening the steaming take-out containers. He looks up at Katsuki and grins as he sits down, patting the spot next to him.

“Reserved for my beautiful girlfriend,” Touya says.

Katsuki’s cheeks heat up, but it feels so right walking over to Touya, sitting next to him and curling up at his side. It had been terrifying when Katsuki had confessed that being a man has never felt right.

The unexpectedly considerate man had offered to use different pronouns to help try it out, and she loves him so much for that.

Touya hands her the container of katsudon and kisses her cheek. “I’ll help you out after we eat.”

Katsuki just hums her understanding as she lifts her chopsticks and starts to eat the pork and egg. There’s some older romantic comedy playing on the TV that she doesn’t really pay attention to. Touya eats his own food, slurping his soba and smacking his lips just to make Katsuki laugh softly.

Having always been a quick eater, Touya finishes his meal first and places his empty container on the coffee table before leaning back and wrapping his arm around Katsuki’s waist. He chuckles when he sees a bit of egg on his girlfriend’s cheek and he leans in to lick it off, which has the blonde blushing.

He grins at that, loving the way he can fluster his girlfriend. She does her best to ignore him as she eats, but she can’t help the sigh that passes her lips when he starts kissing down her neck.

“I’m done,” Katsuki murmurs, leaning away from Touya to place her empty bowl down.

“Finally,” Touya says, grabbing her chin and pulling her in for a kiss. “Fuck, you’re the most beautiful woman on the goddamn planet.”

Katsuki whines softly as she kisses him again, her long blonde lashes batting around her ruby red eyes. “Really?”

“Of course,” Touya says, kissing her chastely. “I brought my kit out.”

“Oh,” Katsuki says, leaning back. “Surprise me.”

Touya smirks and leans over the side of the couch to grab his small black zippered bag, the front of which has a little white skull. He opens it up and grabs out a bottle of black nail polish. He sets the bag down and rolls the bottle between his hands before opening it up and grabbing Katsuki’s left hand.

Touya is diligent in his strokes, each one perfect, somehow never messing up with the tiny brush. Katsuki will never get over how fucking good he is at this. She’d asked about it before, and Touya just blames the fact that he used to have makeovers with his little sister, Fuyumi.

Katsuki can’t help the way she smiles at Touya’s concentrated expression, a small crease in his brow, eyes intent as he uses a bright orange next, adding a perfect ‘X’ over his middle fingers and thumbs.

“I found some grenade nail art stickers online,” Touya says as he caps the orange nail polish. “They’ll be here next week.”

“You are the best fucking boyfriend,” Katsuki says and Touya smirks.

“I know,” he says simply, and Katsuki chuckles as she watches him zip the bag shut.

Katsuki takes the bag and drops it on the coffee table, and then pushes Touya to lie on his back. She settles between his legs, laying her head on his chest and sighing as she watches the movie.

Touya rubs his hands along her back and Katsuki melts against him, feeling nothing but warmth and love from the man underneath her. She snakes her hands under Touya’s waist to hold him like a teddy bear, which has a chuckle rumbling in his chest.

“I love you, Princess,” Touya murmurs.

“Love you too, Metalface,” Katsuki says and Touya snorts.

Katsuki tilts her head to kiss her boyfriend’s clothed chest and Touya hums, his arms tightening around his girlfriend. Katsuki just smiles softly, knowing that she’s in her safe space.

With a deep inhale, she relaxes.

[the-nysh]

why is bakugou so popular? dudebro thing confused me. i thought men related to him?

Short answer: because he's Hori's best written character. Whose character arc, spanning the entire manga, is an emotionally-charged one (opposed to only physical) of slow burn growth, maturation, and self-awareness. Without him ever doing a simple 180 that would change or compromise his character's core integrity. And especially when his arc is so strongly, closely, and thematically tied in tandem with Deku's - the heart of the story itself cannot be told without his relationship to Kacchan. It's something you have to read the manga for to really appreciate how far he's come from his (and their) most volatile, rocky beginnings. :')

But it's also no surprise that many women and queer readers heavily relate to him and are huge fans of his story + char development, while unfortunately many bro guys hate that in return - or if they see parts of themselves (or their own past bullies) in him, they hate what they see, or they refuse to see what else Hori has written of him beyond ch1. (So instead most dudes I've seen heavily relate to and project onto Deku as their self-insert mc.)

[mackeralsauce]

☆ Put this star into the inbox of your favorite blogs. It's time to spread positivity!

Owo can we some more of your ocs???

WAAAAA-

also yes absolutely! i do not have any puppet OCs (yet) other than my puppetsona, so my other OCs shall have to do! this will be a bit long so i'm going to put this under a read more:

we'll start with some more fandom-related OCs! here's Miiko, a Moomins OC of mine:

Miiko is a half-moomin/moomintroll (similar to how Snufkin is half-mumrik). He's in an OC x Canon poly relationship with the Joxter/Joxaren and the Mymble! His whole thing is that they're an astronomer who writes the constellations upon maps, and he also dabbles in a bit of theatre.

I also have an MHA/BNHA OC, although I am not part of the fandom/never got deeply involved into it. I still keep her because I made her when I was going through a rough friend group and so she brings me a lot of comfort as writing and re-developing her after the events helped ease the pain I was recovering from.

She is depicted to the right (on the left is @soda-sparkss OC Miasma Bakugou), and her name is Inako Saito! She was raised by the Neo-League (a recreation of the LOV in her universe) and was experimented on quite a bit as a child. This resulted in her having an unstable quirk that constantly changes, called Quirk Shift.

This isn't really a fandom necessarily, but I have a D&D character I have yet to get a chance to use yet, but I love them to bits!

(Image by goemon on Toyhou.se / diesaur on Instagram)

This here is Kiwal! He's an avian monk who was raised by sailors upon a ship known as The Lindwurm. They very much believe in the power of friendship(tm) and they're an all around great guy! His voiceclaim is Tidus from Final Fantasy X and his themeclaim is any of Maxi's themes from the Soul Calibur series.

Moving on from fandom OCs.... onto Story/Project OCs! I'll start with a guy I haven't used in a long time:

I don't really have a reference for this version of him, but this is Bass! He started off as a Friday Night Funkin' OC a long while ago but then I changed him into an OC for a Tactics RPG Project I had in mind (similar to old Fire Emblem games or Final Fantasy Tactics). He's the Fellaen prince of an empire that worships the dragon Ouroboros. He's one of the two main characters of his story, the other being the vessel of the divine and fell dragon, Luka (whom I have 0 image references for- sorry-).

Now for an OC very close to my heart, because @soda-sparkss made him!:

(Art by @soda-sparkss, character on the right belongs to him! That is Tobias)

Keanan (depicted on the left) is a human with a love for programming, the technical side of spaceships, etc. who was stuck being a janitor on a human fleet because the higher-ups felt he was too pacifistic. One day the ship he was on got attacked by an alien fleet (specifically, a species known as Nephorites) and was taken aboard their vessel by their captain, Tobias. He ended up getting hired there >:)

Now for a character from a project you will hopefully one day see...:

This here is Lucrum Von-Aconitum, a Nephilion (species from one of my bigger projects). He's the current head of the Von-Aconitum bloodline and thus is the Grand Judge of Terrahydrus, the Underground Canal City. He is in fact a father figure and also is very corrupt (accepts bribes and whatnot in his courtroom). We love him though <3 He is part of a very, very big RPG project I plan on making one day... it will likely change a lot once I start working on it, because the story needs a very heavy revamp (really, really badly- it sucks to me as of now).

I don't want to list any of my other story OCs from that story since I need to redesign them + rewrite the plot heavily, so I'm going to show one last silly, non-story OC:

This is Kweh-Kweh. He was originally a Modern D&D OC (grung DJ bard) but now he's just a cool OC. Peep the shinji chair on his kneepads.

[mega-ditto-3]

Hope ya don't mind I wrote a lil something ❤️ @clawz-loopz

Izuku sat rigid, careful to keep his posture still and his breathing even.

He was

A silent statue.

A big heavy rock in storming waters.

A marble pillar-

"You're too fuckin' stiff."

Izuku relaxed, mumbling a quiet "Sorry, Kacchan." before the blonde muttered another curse and pressed closer.

Kacchan must be feeling pretty awful to use Izuku as a pillow while they waited for the next train.

He'd known there was something wrong the moment Izuku arrived to class and noticed Kacchan wasn't already in his seat. The feeling of 'knowing' persisted, as Kacchan's irritation spiked and his natural fireworks burst too easy behind a wirey sneer and narrowed eyes.

Izuku sighed, bravely glancing at Kacchan's flushed face, looking every bit as warm as the body pressed firm against his side, and he quickly returned to gazing back at the tracks. "You shouldn't have come on the trip if you were sick..."

His classmates and Teacher hadn't picked up on the not-so-subtle hints Kacchan's failing health kept dropping, until a few hours after they'd arrived at the museum. Kacchan was only human, after all, and his fever and temper finally caught up to him.

Izuku was instructed to take Bakugou home, as they lived close by each other, and he knew better than to try passing the blonde off onto another classmate.

Kacchan grunted, but it was unclear if the noise had come from a pain or if he was trying to make a snide remark instead of answering-- both of which concerned him greatly.

They must have expected Kacchan to get angry with him. Izuku had, briefly.

"You're a real pain, y'know that?" Kacchan griped- not whined- as he caught himself on the bench.

Izuku bit back a huff. It wasn't his fault that Kacchan was sick, but he was getting blamed for it anyway.

"Yes, Kacchan."

"Stop looking down on me, park it on the damn bench or lose your legs."

Izuku fell heavily next to him and automatically replied, "Okay, Kacchan."

"And lend me your shoulder," Kacchan hissed, "Touch me and die. Don't make it weird."

Izuku nodded, "Yes, sorry Ka-"

Kacchan curled into Izuku's space immeaditly and dropped his head against Izuku's shoulder, Kacchan's words finally registering as he screamed.

"-aaAAAACHAN-!"

"I said don't be weird!"

It was strange to see someone who projected an air of confidence and strength, untouchable, be reduced to shallow breaths and a whistling nose.

He was glad they were alone.

When it was just the two of them, Kacchan was... Different.

Not nicer by any means, but without an audience Kacchan was less likely to create a show or take offense to Izuku's sole gaze. The displays of raw and impressive power dimmed to a quiet warm glow for them to enjoy together. Softer and quiet but no less amazing.

Irate and fierce Bakugou Katsuki became subdued and passive Kacchan.

Or maybe he only pretended to see a difference.

As soon as the blonde was able to walk on his own two feet without fear of collapsing, he was probably going to politely thank Izuku for his unneeded service with a punch to the gut.

Izuku's stomach rolled, anticipating the strike, but it settled when looking down at Kacchan's serene sleeping face didn't cause the blonde to jump from his comfortable position to rip his throat out.

The less people between and in front of them, the better; And seeing as how Kacchan wasn't firing on all cylinders, he didn't count either. The distance Kacchan had put up in their youth was gone, no longer dictating how close Izuku was allowed to be.

Right now, the only person between him and Kacchan was Izuku.

It's a startling thought, but he found it quite calming.

It had been quite some time since he'd been the one to hold the reigns in their relationship, aside from his daily stubborn decision to never stray too far away. It was assuring to know that this was still an option. That Izuku was still okay with this and with them.

Kacchan may have demanded the shoulder attached to Izuku's presence, but Izuku would've offered it even without the excuse of sickness.

Because he cared for Kacchan and always would. His admiration was inevitable as it was steady. If Kacchan never looked back, he was content to continue watching from afar.

Always waiting for the other with an open heart and safe place to be just Kacchan.

when it was just us.

[aranarumei]

B, F, K?

thought abt going thru all of my fics and felt an intense bout of decision fatigue so I’ve decided to limit things to mostly a3, which I think is probably the more interesting way to answer, anyways. I ramble so this is a bit lengthy.

B: Any of your stories inspired by personal experience?

oh yeah. I am Not Immune to Projecting Sometimes. I know I just said I’d talk abt a3 but this bakugou-centric fic was just me drawing heavily on my personal experiences with like. complicated family dynamics and it seemed to go okay so. I’m pleased with it mostly bc i felt like the conclusion wasn’t very… wish fulfillment? which is nice sometimes, but not what i wanted. 

on the a3 side, the Specifics are rather different but dress for success was definitely inspired by conversations i’ve had about gender and presentation before... but the detail drawn most from real life was probably juza’s thoughts about his smile, particularly that he’s just a guy that. Doesn’t Smile. As a kid i was 100% the sort of like. Person who has never smiled ever to my classmates and that made me later in life believe that i was just like. Incapable of smiling properly. I smile lots nowadays tho :) 

F: Share a snippet from one of your favourite dialogue scenes you've written and explain why you're proud of it.

[LUKE] It’s not. Besides, when I wake up, won’t you be there? On the other end of sleep, and “ Good night,” is a “Good morning”. You don’t need to follow me into everything, as long as you know you’ll see me again. [S] “Good night” is a very strange greeting, then. [LUKE] Maybe so. More than a greeting, I think it feels like a promise. 

clockwork heart is. my favorite play. it may even be my favorite event. (tough competition w/ captain’s sky pirates + my master’s mesmerized by mystery for me. and nocturnality.) 

this snippet is really just. it's kind of barely a fic. the whole post is not that long. I had Lots Of Thoughts about how luke, at the end of a clockwork heart, says, “So it’s just good night for now.” it was, to me, just such a perfect encapsulation of the idea that this separation was temporary and not forever, even though they were both saying goodbye, so I wanted to write something that expanded on that idea a little. i think it's effective, seeing as how I get more emotional about the ending, now, and the script format forced me to pretty much rely on dialogue alone.

K: What's the angstiest idea you've ever come up with? 

this made me look at myself and be like… huh, i think i’ve decreased in angst as i’ve grown older. interesting.

anyways i think mine would be…  there’s this backstage for nocturnality (so like, spoilers for that) where azuma is transported into the world of nocturnality and like. meets with kota after the ending of the play. and he makes this comment about like. oh, I prefer tasuku to kota, after all. 

and it just like. I’ve never stopped thinking abt that. so I had the sketches of an idea where it’s like. azuma is dropped into that world only like… he Stays There for wayyyy longer than a couple of hours. and u get very fun stuff of like. kota projects his feelings about reo onto azuma and azuma kind of does the same, and the like… lines blur a little badly and they probably lash out at each other somewhat. and it’s a bit complicated, since at this point in time azuma and tasuku have grown closer but they still don’t know each other Perfectly. and he’s not even here but there’s a guy with his face who is Almost Like Him (and how well can you be sure you knew tasuku, too…) all while you’re also slowly losing your sense of self because like, in this world, “reo” is the real existence?  there was also gonna be some kind of drama with the vampire society I think… since azuma would actually be like Human and not. Turned Yet. 

anyways it never rly went anywhere bc it would have to be a lengthy multichap and i’ve got a slow track record with those. i need to finish at least One. these are all also just like… vague concepts that i hadn’t fleshed out into proper plot beats, so it requires a Lot of Work that i just. don’t want to do currently. but i think it could be like. really fun.

ask me about fics & stuff!

[bnha-butterfly]

Maybe some more of your autistic bakugou hc if your up to it

I don’t think you know how ready I am to scream about Autistic!Bakugou at any given moment. That being said buckle up cus Autistic Baku lives in my head rent free.

 First let me just direct you to THIS post cus its just perfect and highlights some of the reasons I think Bakugou is on the spectrum.

I genuinely think that Katsuki suffers from some form of prosopagnosia which is why he never really calls people by their names

When he gets overstimulated and his system goes into fight or flight to almost always choses fight. Which is which is when you’ll get his seemingly random burst of anger

Vocal,  auditory and tactile stims!! 

Probably has like 20 different chewables in his room cus he’s an aggressive chewer when he stims.

Refuses to be seen with a stim toy so he only uses them in the comfort of his own room.

He hums. He rubs his knuckles against his thigh slowly with even pressure. He’ll bite on his fingers if he’s out of he comfort of his room.

He thinks Kiri and Sero have really nice voices. They almost never fail to sort of calm him down.

Definitely has echolalia and when he was younger he had to teach himself to avoid words that trigger it. 

He’s not super adverse to scent. He actually has a lot of scents he likes. Especially the scents of his favorite people. He finds them grounding and comforting and he can just get sucked into a trance.

HE HATES SLIMY THINGS

Like they make him want to gag

He’s 95% touch adverse and will go out of his way to not touch someone

He has to initiate the physical contact

HATES LIGHT TOUCHES. If your gonna touch him it has to have a certain amount of pressure behind it. 

He’s incredibly schedule oriented. But, prefers to block out his day as opposed to schedule every second of his day. He used to have his days planned down to the minute but switched to blocking when he realized he’s gonna have to be more flexible when he becomes a hero. 

Hyper fixated on being the #1 hero. 

All Might is his special interest and has accidently info dumped on Kirishima once. (Neither speak about the time this happened)

He doesn’t mask in terms of his blunt and kind of curt way of talking but does when it comes to “acting autistic”

Extremely observant of the things that tend to be happening around him because that minimizes the chances of him being caught off guard. He knows all of the gossip in the school because people never pay attention to whos around them when they gossip. 

He has learned the mannerisms of the entire bakusquad. 

Meltdowns for him mean him exploding and pushing everyone away from him. Usually followed by a period of him becoming non-verbal.

Shutdowns are harder to catch. He’ll curl in on himself. He won’t talk as much. He’ll avoid touch at all cost, even if its from one of his favorite people. His social battery will be in the negatives so he’ll hold up in his room for super long. He’s semi-verbal and will just fixate on a special interest or one of his current hyper-fixations till he starts to feel better

An: I don’t know if this is what you were expecting when you asked for this but like ngl writing this gave me the boost of serotonin I needed. I love writing about character’s I head cannon as autistic ( and hell do I hc a ton of MHA charaters as on the spectrum)

[helpimstuckinafandom]

Just had the epiphany that I'm shipping the same ship over and over again in which I project onto the sunshine lad who's in love with their snarky emo

I've got to be stopped

[diaco1968]

Bakugou x Reader

Heavily inspired by assasins creed odyssey, which strangely enough isnt much of a favorite game of mine at all

Spartan commander!Bakugou x persian commander Reader

*Warnings!noncon dubcon force and struggle, hair pulling, choking, slapping , unhealthy relationship...

Amazing Art credited to: https://clarissaferguson.artstation.com/projects/aRD6G0

https://m.facebook.com/clariesartpage/?__tn__=%2Cg

It infuriated him to watch you, the confusion that flooded his brain doing nothing to alleviate his frustration, was he bothered because of the shackles and chains binding your once proudly armor clad figure, or was it the humbling slave clothing shamefully displaying too much of you for everyone to see.

What used to be a very familiar fabric worn by slaves all over Sparta looked so strange and out of place on your usually expensively covered body that he soon found himself noticing stupid irrelevant details on how ridiculously little it covered or how terribly it was sewn.

Still, all this was better than when he finally gathered the will to take a look at your face. He had seen you frown many times before, your concentration method on the battlefield, but a scowl so deep he had never seen on your face. Nor did you once look up from your hands firmly and uncomfortably hanging from the chain connecting them to your neck. Not in a submissive or shamed way, not at all; more like you couldn't be bother paying attention to the insignificant greeks around you.

These people clearly didn't know who you were, otherwise you wouldn't have gotten to where you were being sold off as a common slave today. Macedonia was always more tolerant towards Persian invaders; way too tolerant in his opinion. Had it been Sparta though, you wouldn't have been alive right now.

That point indirectly led to his current situation. He was pondering wether or not he should purchase you before anyone else would, in front of his own Spartan troops that he knew recognized you very well.

And no his little secret obsession with you wasn't the reason he wanted you; in fact that same obsession was the reason he was in his current predicaments in the first place.

"Can this one read and write?"

"Oh yes indeed, in fact she is much more intelligent than just that!"

"How so?"

"She is from Persia."

His eyes snapped onto the man standing next to him, his glare so fierce it would cause him to tremble; had he seen it.

"Well well, a Persian one, huh! Must be very expensive then...?"

Unlike him, you probably having heard that same conversation many times already didn't bat an eye at the men talking.

The sharp pain shooting through his gut brought him back to the situation at hand, and reminded him of the actual reason he had hunted you down and why he could absolutely not let anyone else have you.

"I'll take thi-"

"Step aside."

The authoritative voice cutting off the slave trader and the bargaining man caught your attention immediately. You knew this voice. And you knew that you shouldn't have heard him here, or anywhere at least for a while. Unless he had figured everything out since the night before. Making sure to not let your smirk show, you raised your head to meet his fiery eyes, much more prominent now with how pale and sick he looked to be.

"Excuse me, but-"

"You are excused. How much for the Persian Slave."

He made sure to spit the words out with venom in his voice, and as he had predicted you reacted by a silence snarl.

"I'm sorry but this man here was interested in the same one, you should probably wait for him-!"

The trader was silenced by a heavy looking coin pouch being shoved in his hands as Bakugou stepped in to grab you by the chain that connected the shackles on your wrists and pulled you up on your feet.

"Uh... sold!" You could hear the trader trying to move on with his business as if this brute of a Spartan general didn't just interrupt him.

"Missed me, huh?"

He cursed under his breath as he yanked you into the narrow gap between two houses and pushed you back against the wall.

"Whoah that's not how honorable Spartans treat their unarmed foes..."

You trailed off watching him as he tried to quickly shed his cloak off, shaky fingers making the fabric catch on some edges of his sharp armor. You would've made fun of him had the predicaments were less serious.

" though I must admit I am interested in what I'm seeing...What am I seeing exactly?"

"Silence!"

He messily draped the cloak over your head, momentarily faltering and having to lean on his hands on the wall behind you, having you step back into the wall and effectively caged by his body, hands placed on either side of your head. His pale face was close enough now, that you could see the effects of your handiwork last night.The bags under his eyes and chapped dry lips. Dehydration already?

He hated you as he felt his energy drain from him slowly; you sneaky dishonorable snake... but yet, as he leaned over you, the way your eyes were watching him wearily yet curiously, your face was so close... your delicate yet trained figure practically half a breath away.

A breath he could barely heave.

Because of you.

He pushed himself off the wall and away from you.

"What a gentleman, covering this humble slave up like this..."

"It's not for you, it's to not have any unwanted attention dragged my way. There are people who know who you are."

"And yet you are wearing that golden shiny armor, I'm sure no one will pay attention."

"By the gods will you ever shut up!"

He grabbed the hood of the cloak and pulled it roughly over your head, covering more than half of your face by it. His hand firmly pressed on your shoulder, pushing you forward.

"Move."

"What do you want with me anyway..."

"As if you don't know."

"I have a few guesses."

His eye twitched in annoyance, his jaw clenching, finding the nerve of you unbelievable. You could feel his fingers dig into your shoulder so tightly that you knew there would be indents of them there later.

"You can't feel your fingers, can you?"

The change of your tone from the usual casual annoying one to a serious one caught him offgaurd.

He was hoping that he was playing it off well enough not for you to notice, that you would think he had come for you to punish your act of treachery.

Not for you to figure out he actually needed you.

"You poisoned me." He hissed under his breath.

"You are the enemy."

"It was a truce discussion!"

"As your spies cleared out my ranks?!"

This was the (y/n) he knew best. The demanding firm voice of a captain, with the ferocity of something much more majestic than a venomous snake...

Only too bad you were mistaken.

"Where is the antidote."

He pulled off your hood but you had realized long ago that he was taking you to your raided and deserted camp. The last stand before they had over run you with their forces, where your soldiers fought and probably died.

"I don't know."

"Now listen here you poutána*!"

He spun you around and grabbed your neck, using all the power he had left in his body, to lift you up by the neck and hold you against the wooden walls surrounding the camp. With a sharp strangled inhale your hands shot up to grab his wrist as you panicked lightly not feeling the ground beneath your feet, mouth falling agape. You didn't expect him to have this much left in him, feeling as if a little more pressure and he would crush your neck, if it wasn't for the tang of fear for your life you could say you were impressed, but the pain was soon forgotten as your vision started to get blurry, the lack of air disrupting your normal body functions.

"If I die, you die!"

You wheezed trying to maintain eye contact despite the strong feeling of your eyes wanting to roll back in your skull as a response to the tight choke hold.

"And if I die, you die too. Only I make sure by the time my men are done with you, your precious king will not even want to claim you back."

You had no idea what he meant by that threat, in fact you had no ideas at all, it felt like all your thoughts were jumbled in a mess of yarns and they were knotting tighter by the second, the darkness had creeped in the corners of your eyes, pulsing towards the center and tunneling your vision, as your lungs started burning. Your eyes felt heavy and warm and you felt as though they were about to pop out of your skull.

"Fine!...I... tell...!..." you had to force the words through your teeth.

His hand gave one last squeeze to your neck in warning, the pain intensified by the lack of air to your head almost unbearable, before he let you drop back down to your feet.

You slid down the wooden beams and straight onto the ground, heaving your lost breath.

You did not want to do as he told you to, to exhaustedly and weakly sit on the ground in front of him, to even look up at him; it was too humiliating for you, but then again you must do what must be done.

Without moving your head or eyes towards him you cleared your throat and collected yourself as gracefully as you could manage.

"It should be among my belongings, who confiscated them?"

"I don't know. And I don't care. Make one."

"I need the poison itself to make an antidote."

"Again, I don't-"

"Yeah yeah, I bet you will start caring when your arms and legs stop working."

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose knowing damn well he was ordered not to meddle in things that weren't his business, but he couldn't just go reason with them that he fucked up and he needed help with it, in fact the less people knew of your existence/survival, the better things would be.

"I may be able to find out...how much time do I have?"

He would of course never let himself sound defeated in front of you, but still if you paid attention you could tell in his voice that he wasn't hoping for much from you anyway.

You grabbed a thorn bush from the ground and stood up, moving closer to him and grabbing his hand.

He narrowed his eyes at you but didnt stop you until he saw you ready to stab his forearm with a particularly sharp looking thorn. He was too late though and he watched as you pierced his skin with the thorn and blood strated dripping down his arm, ready to scold you. Except, he didnt feel a thing. No pain, no pressure, no nothing.

The harshness was completely unnecessary, you hadn't held back from the stab and looked at his expression searching for pain, listening for any kind of sound indicating it and then watched as a few drops of blood pooled into the penetrated wound and dripped down his veiny arm plopping onto the ground in silence.

You had hoped he did feel the pain and that he would wince or show any kind of emotion. But you weren't sure why, was it that you wanted to inflict any sort of damage on him to compensate the smallest amount of humilation you suffered, or was it because you were hoping he had more time left?

"Maximum early morning."

His eyes were staring into your soul. First time ever that you've seen them with no fire at all, just blank. You were starting to feel kind of bad, but it wasn't like he was faultless either, he ambushed you too!

He turned away from you and started pacing around, measuring his options. He could request from a Makedonian superior for the persian confiscations, which had an slim chance of success, but low to no risk. Or, he could try and steal it, which well if he was caught he'd be as good as dead anyway.

"You are a nuisance, you know that?"

You narrowed your eyes at him feeling a bit underwhelmed.

"You find out I have given you barely a day to live and that's the worst you can do? Insult me?"

He felt the need to sit down, he's body slowly feeling too heavy for him to hold up for a long period of time.

"And to think you did it for naught too..."

"Naught!? You dare say that sitting in my ransacked camp!?"

"I wanted to discuss peace!"

Before you could express your disbelief on how he could sit there in the middle of a military camp with its dirt soaked with your men's blood and deny his crime, you were interrupted by the sound of footsteps  whipping your head back towards the gate and immediately reaching over to cover your head with the hood again.

Bakugou seemed ready to stand as well when he saw an spartan soldier approaching the two of you but his posture relaxed when he saw the man pull off his helmet to reveal his face.

"Kirishima."

You knew him too, he was the right hand of Bakugou, practically glued to him, in fact now that you thought about it you were surprised he wasn't there since the beginning.

"Seriously, you find out you've been poisoned and the first thing you do is stomp off to buy some 'company'?"

He glanced at you not seeing your unimpressed face from under the hood. Scoffing at the idea.

"Hah!... hardly the company I would ever seek."

Kirishima raised an eyebrow taking a second to think before his eyes widened as he walked over to you and pulled the hood off your face, almost jumping back again with a gasp.

"No way! She's alive?!"

You sighed finding all this a bit too annoying.

"So you're going to be better now?"

His attention was back on Bakugo but he tried to discreetly put some distance between you and himself.

Tried, because you noticed it immediately, smirking at him as he glanced your way and looked away uncomfortably.

Bakugou might not have been affected by you, but you were a fearsom foe. Apparently even when bound.

"Do I look better to you?!"

Kirishima looked sad for a fleeting moment before he composed himself.

"I thought it would take time for the antidote to work..."

"There is no antidote."

The men turned to look at you, disbelief and anger practically oozing out of Bakugou, but before he could snap you in half you continued.

"That's why I need the poison back to make one. I had no intention of making one before, you deserved what was coming to you."

That seemed to get a reaction out of a frustrated looking Kirishima.

"What do you mean?! He was the only one who wanted to make peace with you! Even against the orders of the c_"

"Kirishima! Shut your mouth!"

Your interest was peaked now. There was some information Bakugou was willing to hide with his life at stake. Information leading to your revenge.

"Orders of who?"

Bakugou glared at you for a second before having to redirect his eyes back on Kirishima.

"But she needs to know!"

"When I order you to shut up, you will listen to me!"

"But she thinks you_"

"I do not care what she thinks!"

He barked making all three of you get engulfed by a heavy uncomfortable silence.

Kirishima sighed and looked away but he wasnt going to give up on his superiors life so easily.

"I seek permission to talk, commander."

"Only to me and not at all about that damned thing!"

He nodded and pursed his lips to rephrase his words.

"With all due respect, sir, without the proper... information, your life might still be in danger. She could be wasting the time you have left on a fools errand. Or worse make you something other than an antidote or something..."

Bakugou heaved a sigh, irritation completely visible in his face.

Your eyes had been curiously snapping between the two of them this whole time but now they rested on Bakugou, watching his helplessness, his choice between his duty and his life, his despare looked oddly beautiful to you.

"Your argument is considered. Now moving on to the actual problem."

Kirishima was defeated but he didnt seem to want to accept it.

"You will trust her with your life right after she tried to take it?"

"I will."

Foolish...

"If I survive she will have her freedom back."

...not so foolish after all.

"Based on the looks on your faces and your desperation, I can tell that I have a proposition you can't decline."

They both turned to you, irritated by your demeanor and the prospect of you attempting to waste their time even more.

When neither of them said anything you continued.

"As I thought. I can sneak in and take back what I- I mean what you need."

The absolute silence was broken by Bakugou's dry laugh as he gave you a nasty look.

"Yeah, right. You can infiltrate an entire Spartan camp all on your own. Sure."

He glanced at Kirishima taken aback by his expression and the fact he didn't join in on his ridicule of you. Completely the opposite, he was dead serious looking at you.

"What if you run away?"

"What the fuck, Kirishima?"

Kirishima was staring at you intently waiting for your reassurance probably?

"Well, it's not going to be easy running away from inside an spartan camp while two other Spartans are stalking you from outside."

"So you won't run away?"

"Kirishima, who said I will send her in there?"

"Commander, a second please. Say that you won't."

You narrowed your eyes at Kirishima while Bakugou surprised by Kirishima's audacity was glaring at the two of you.

"I won't run away."

Kirishima didn't look convinced but he turned to Bakugou and bowed his head.

"I don't know if she can be trusted to do it or not, but as to if she can do it... I can assure you she can... just like she did in my old training camp..."

Bakugou remembered this incident very well, it was the first time he met Kirishima, it was a ransacked camp with bodies scattered all over as if dead in an instant in their posts, striked by lightning. Even some in their sleep. Were you the one responsible for that?

He turned to you and you held his gaze until another wave of pain surged through his stomach.

"Fine. You'll do it."

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆timeskip☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

These guards would have been way less troublesome if the idiots had given you a blade or something, but they didn't want to risk it, and not to mention allow you to kill any 'innocent' Spartans.

You scoffed as the guard at the doorway walked off letting you slip inside unnoticed.

Yes, somehow they managed to forget to mention it was a fort you were infiltrating not a simple camp.

You froze as you almost didn't notice the guy sleeping in the back of the room right until he snored. You sighed and walked to the only important looking table in the entire hellhole of a fort.

And sure enough there was your stuff, your documents scattered around the table along with some of theirs, you picked them up and immediately burned your own. Better destroyed than in spartan hands. Next you spotted the vial and snatched it putting it in your pocket. But you weren't done. You just had to sneak a peak at the other documents. Some letters that you tried to read. And a creepy looking mask.

'The needle?... eyes of Kosmos?...lords of the aegon sea?...'

You had no idea who these people were, but by the uncomfortable feeling that started forming in the pit of your stomach you could tell there was something bigger than just Spartans about this. Was this the thing Kirishima was telling you about? Were these people the ones who slaughtered your men?

Your eyes moved towards the sleeping man in the corner as he shifted in his sleep and you just had to do it. You stalked over watching him before leaning down and grabbing his dagger strapped to his side. You sat down and with a snarl slit his throat.

After all, all is fair in war.

Now was your chance to sneak back out but you didn't have any intention to go back to your captors. You did feel guilty about what you were doing but you didn't trust your fate in his hands. You could make the cure on your own and send it to him.

Deep in your thoughts you reached a decision as you lept off the wall and rolled the fall off cursing the humble clothes you've been given as they provided no armor, dusting yourself off.

"You said you won't run away."

The hair on the back of your neck stood on edge as you composed yourself before turning to face none other than Bakugou.

"I wasn't running, was I?"

He narrowed his eyes at you, knowing you seriously thought you could grt away with this only playing with your words.

"Walking?"

"Exactly. Could you catch me if I was running?"

"You can't do it."

You raised an eyebrow at him.

"You are awfully humorous for a dying man."

"I am not joking. Do it. Run."

You narrowed your eyes at him and took a step back, he took one forward. His suggestion sounded very threatening but it was legit a suggestion... what were the odds he could run after you after having the poison in him for almost a day.

You whipped around to zoom away but not even a few seconds later you got tackled to the floor.

"That's not fucking possible!"

Protesting and flailing under the weight over you, you managed to roll over only to find out it was Kirishima who was on top of you as Bakugou loomed over both of you.

"As I said, you can't."

"Should've known you're already too weak for this kind of exercise."

He looked down at you as Kirishima reached in your pockets and grabbed the vial of poison handing it over to Bakugou, who crouched next to you.

"You've proven untrustworthy time and again. So, excuse my manners but I find this necessary."

Before you could figure what he meant your hands were held down by Kirishima who was straddling your legs and Bakugou grabbed your jaw, forcing a good portion of the same poison you just retrieved down your throat. Making sure you swallowed it they both let go of you allowing you to cough freely.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

His fingers curled around your chin and raised your face holding your gaze for a few seconds, before heaving a sigh and rising to his feet.

"Well, now you have to make the right antidote, if not for me, for yourself."

He kicked your leg gently urging you to get up and you still in disbelief from the audacity stood up very slowly.

"Hurry up, we don't have much time to lose now, do we?"

He pushed you forward but you didn't pick up your pace.

"You don't, not me."

You knew you should've kept your mouth shut but before you could stop yourself you blurted out.

Before you knew it a pissed off Bakugou leaned down, grabbing your waist and hooking his hand around the back of your legs his shoulder digging in your abdomen, and the next thing you knew you were in the air draped over his shoulder, with his hand resting on your ass.

"Whoa there! Could've brought a horse!"

Kirishiam just as surprised as you stepped forward to help bring you instead but his hand got swatted away by Bakugou.

"Make sure no one see us."

☆☆☆timeskip☆☆☆

It was a very uncomfortable trip to their outpost so when you finally arrived and were let down, you couldn't help but to heave a sigh of relief, but before your stomach could settle or anything, he immediately pushed you down.

Taken aback you flopped down on your ass disgracefully as you looked up at him assuming he just did that to be a jerk, but he didn't look like he was done. The look in his eyes wasn't something you could pinpoint.

"I know you didn't tire yourself at all for the risk of the poison spreading faster. But there are other ways to make someone's heart race."

"Yeah? What are those?"

His hand shot out and grabbed your pants as you tried to move away startled.

"What are you doing?!"

"You."

You could not believe the heat that rose to your face in this situation as your heart hammered against your chest, you grabbed his hand to pry it off you but instead he just grabbed your wrists, pinning you down and ripping off your clothes.

"Get off me!"

You managed to kick him in the chest but it wasn't strong enough to stop him, only made him snarl and move your legs out of his way to settle between them, arm hooked around your left leg holding it up and making you imbalanced for any other kick you attempted.

The same hand around your leg reached all the way around and grabbed his cock, stroking its lenghth and rubbing it over your core as you squirmed around underneath him.

"You are going to pay for this!"

He looked up in your eyes as he started pressing his dick in you. You shut your eyes tight, gritting your teeth as you pulled on your wrists to loosen his grip to no avail, gasping sharply as the tip popped inside you and the angle made him slide in all the way to the hilt.

"No, you are paying now. So be a good girl and take it."

He didn't bother waiting for you to adjust before he was already thrusting in you, figuring it would just give you more time to flail around and struggle.

"You w-worthless piece of shit! Ah! Who do you think you are-ngh!"

He wrapped one hand around your neck, his other hand let go of your wrist and he slapped you across the face the shock making you fall silent as your whole body went rigid, you looked up at him, your mind racing at a break neck speed. But not fast enough to predict the second slap that landed on the same cheek.

You jerked trying to move away from the source of the pain, freeing one hand and pushing against him, but he yanked you back by the neck and slapped you a third time.

The heat and the sting on your cheek was killing you as the hand around your neck restricted your airway making you shut your eyes tightly.

"Eyes on me."

He wasn't sure what he was doing, the way your eyes became glossy was deep down very frustrating for him, making his heart clench, but on the other hand, you were a terrible brat that needed to be knocked down a notch or two.

"I said open your eyes!"

His hand struck your cheek once again as the sound of his roar rang in your ears and you immediately opened your eyes.

"Mnnnh!"

Finally giving in with a little helpless yelp you stopped struggling as a wave of pleasure forced itself over your body making you wrap your legs around his waist submissively instead of pushing him away with your hand now resting wearily on his arm, your delicate face not used to such treatment, warm tears sliding over the redness on your cheeks making them sting; and as humiliating as it was you felt you kinda deserved it, and even worse you liked it. This man was unarmed and significantly weakened by the poison having only hours left to live and still he could take you on so effortlessly, his brute force was turning you on. And you knew he could tell by the way you were gushing and quivering around his dick.

"Now that's a good girl."

His hand loosend around your neck and he stroke your cheek wiping off the tears that were streaming down it.

"I... I get your point... you can stop now..."

Your meek barely audible voice felt like a stab into his heart but still he wasn't going to give this last chance of his up, even though it might've been the last time he would get to do this.

He had to take you. Make you his, even if only once.

"If you think I can stop now, you definitely haven't gotten my point..."

He whispered back at you, his thumb dragging on your jaw before his fingers snaked through your hair grabbing a fistful and yanking it back to expose your neck. His thrusts picked up in pace and he leaned down into you to nibble on your neck. It was very satifying to him the way he found and exploited your sweetspots, the way your walls quivered and clenched around his lenghth in response, ready for a little push. His teeth sank in at the base of your neck and he relished in the sounds of your moans, his back muscles shuddering under your nails and from the warmth of your juices seeping out of you around him before dripping down.

He leaned back a little, pausing to watch your expression, your face drowned in pleasure and frustration, cheeks flushed red and panting heavily as sweat dripped down your temple, whining quietly.

"You are wasting your time!"

You moaned as his face moved up from pressing into your neck to dragging his lips over your jawline making you shiver.

"hardly."

His lips pressed against yours firmly, moulding them into yours.

He wished he could feel you better. Your skin under his fingertips, but his fingers had already lost most of their sense.

☆☆☆timeskip☆☆☆

you mustve dozed off during the night,the past couple of days having finally taken its toll on you, cause when you opened your eyes it was already morning. You looked next to you where you vaguely remembered seeing Bakugou lay as he got worse right before you gave him the antidote and drank your own. He was sitting there watching you, looking doubtfull which was very out of character for him.

"You look much better."

He knew, and from the moment he figured his life wasn't hanging in the balance he had been worrying about something else. Your small voice not helping his case at all.

"I'd say thanks to you but, you caused it all so."

You rolled your eyes and he felt himself get even more nervouse. It was either now or never. He raised his hand slowly, watching you watch him wearily as his fingers stroked your cheek before moving slowly to wrap around your jaw.

You couldn't help but panic. Feeling your heart drop realizing that no matter what you had done for him or what the deal was, he couldn't just let you go. You were the enemy after all. He was going to kill you, wasn't he...

"We had a deal! I prevented your death!"

His fingers were fixed firmly around your jaw but surprisingly there was no force at all to them.

"And you are once again a free woman."

He leaned in till his face was barely a breath away from yours, just lingering there. Eyes moving from your eyes to your lips. Waiting. He was hoping, praying that you wouldn't push him away, that he could make it right this time.

As you were frozen in your spot, staring at the ponds of crimson in his eyes, it took you a much too long time to realise what was happening. There was no force in his motion, he was merely touching your face, in his own possessive way, waiting for your answer to his preposition.

He was waiting for you to kiss him.

The panic washed away in a second and was replaced by a hoard of fluttering butterflies in your stomach as you recalled the events of last night, heat pooling in the pit of your stomach. As forceful as he was in the beginning, he became way too sweet and gentle towards the end of the night.

"I always knew Spartans aren't much for speeches, but," you leaned in, your fingers snaking to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, watching as the anxiousness drained slowly from his face, replaced by something else, you couldn't pinpoint, relief maybe?

"To be this shitty at flirting?"

"Oh shut up!"

"... no slapping this time..."

"Can't promise anything."

He jerked back as you slapped him hard across the face, turning to glare at you before His lips parted into a knowing smirk, crashing his mouth onto yours with such familiar passion you couldn't help the little quiet moan that left you.

**Persian silk tree seeds, neurotoxin,ginkgotoxin

**excuse my google translate; poutána=whore

[comradekiwi]

bkdk quirk kid/time travel ficlet!

inspired by me wishing there were more fics with this scene and then realizing I can literally. write it myself

EDIT: now on ao3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/38051554

———

“So. You’re telling me this guy looks like your dad? But younger?”

The little tyke nodded furiously, clutching onto Katsuki’s pants leg, fluffy blonde curls bouncing back and forth. Katsuki had to stifle a grin at the sight. Sue him, it was cute. The brat had bigass eyes that phased in and out of sight behind his curls as he bounced on his tiny feet, shuffling incessantly, almost like-

“Daddy!” the kid suddenly implored, staring into Katsuki’s soul with his huge fucking Bambi eyes. (Seriously, what the fuck? When did they start making kids this cute?) “Up!”

Tiny arms shot up in his direction, barely reaching his hips. “You want me to pick you up?” Katsuki asked, teasing, just to see him react. The kid nodded heavily again, stretching and whining like that would get him up faster. Katsuki bent down, humouring him. “What do we say?”

Jesus, he sounded like his father.

“Please!” The kid said sweetly, with a hint of a child’s lisp. Katsuki lifted him, musing at how light he was. It was insane to think that he or Deku had ever been this size, like a strong wind could blow them away. He held onto the kid tighter at the thought, then chastised himself internally for the sudden protectiveness that came out of nowhere. He was getting soft.

Aizawa seemed unamused at the exchange, texting someone on his phone, although most of the onlooking Class 3-A looked bewildered at the sight of tall, built, grumpy Bakugou gently carrying a tiny, adorable child. Kirishima and Mina just looked fond. Todoroki, apparently unconcerned, continued eating his noodles and pretending not to sneak glances at Sero. (He thought he was subtle. He was not. Katsuki hated his stupid simp ass.) Pinching the bridge of his nose, Aizawa muttered something about problem children. Children? It was just Bakugou here. Well, and the tyke. The other problem child-

“I’m here!” Deku burst through the door, panting. “I’m sorry I’m late for movie night I had to meet with All Might and I saw a dog on the way back and it was so cute it kind of reminded me of Kiri-”

“Papa!” Belted the newly exuberant kid, right in Katsuki’s fucking ear, now wriggling like an eel to get out of his grasp.

Wait. What.

The kid succeeding in sliding down his legs and rushing to Deku, who instinctively knelt down to catch the flying kid in his arms into a hug. “Hi Papa! Look! Daddy’s small! You’re small too! Oji-san has less grey hair and Uncle Kiri is smaller and Auntie Mina isn’t growing a baby anymore and I think I have to go to the bathroom!”

Okay. Now the whole class looked shocked, none more so than Deku. Actually, Kirishima and Mina looked even more fond and amused, fuck them. Their eyes were twinkling and mouths were stretched in ecstatic, teasing grins, openly glancing back and forth between Katsuki and Deku. Why wasn’t she fucking concerned about the pregnancy in her future? Sero mouthed “Oji-san?” and looked up at Aizawa, whose face remained unchanged, although he remained glaring steadfastly at his phone. Katsuki peeked. He was texting Mic-Sensei. There were a lot of messages on Aizawa’s end, now, and what looked like a bunch of unhelpful kaomoji’s from Mic.

Come to think of it, the kid did look a lot like Deku. The freckles matched, although Katsuki had long given up avoiding being reminded of Deku every time he saw someone with freckles, and had thus thought little of it. But the green eyes and excited rambling was unmistakable. He was now mumbling happily, shifting back and forth, nearly on Deku’s toes, clutching his shirt near identically to the way he had been holding Katsuki’s pants. Deku looked at the kids hair, then up at Katsuki from his kneeling position on the floor. Tch. Trust the nerd to connect the dots. Although the way his eyes were shiny but wary told Katsuki he was having a hard time believing it.

“Kacchan…?” Deku asked, gripping the kid a little tighter, impossible hope in his eyes. Katsuki was sure he was wearing a similarly idiotic expression too, taking in the side-by-side Bambi eyes and freckles, juxtaposed with his hair colour in curly form and his mother’s nose. His chest was going to explode. It broke Katsuki’s heart a little, to see such immeasurable longing reflected in the eyes of someone whose wishes he could have granted ages ago if they weren’t both so stupid. (Okay, mostly Katsuki. But he was never going to admit that.)

The kid had gone quiet, looking between the two of them. Perceptive. (Definitely his and Deku’s kid. Holy shit, this was his and Deku’s kid.) He held one hand out to Katsuki, who instinctively took it, and looped the other around Deku’s neck as he sat on his knee. “Papa came home Daddy! You gotta give him his welcome home kiss!” The kid scolded, little face aghast at his Daddy forgetting their daily tradition. Deku’s face immediately drowned in red, which was an amusing enough sight to distract Katsuki from the steam was coming out of his ears. No way in hell was he kissing the nerd right now, but the idea was sending him into spontaneous cardiac arrest. Not just kissing Deku, but the potential of having a domestic, stable enough life with him that things like welcome home kisses were the norm. Where a kid pattered around there to witness it, and remind them if they forgot. Where they were safe in the warm cocoon of a future together. Katsuki was well aware his eyes were glazed over at his wonderment, but Deku’s were, too, clearly having the same train of thought. Deku smiled shyly up at him, and Katsuki couldnt stop his face from softening back, the barest hint of a smile escaping unbidden. The kid suddenly blinked rapidly, then disappeared, completely gone. Deku blinked too, in a comically identical way, lashes fluttering and oh, Katsuki never had a chance. He was so, so gone for this boy.

Aizawa clicked his phone off and huh. He had had a timer going. “Ten minutes on the dot. The quirk user is only a teen right now but they happen to be in general studies here, so Nedzu let me know the details of the quirk’s effects. No harm comes to anyone involved, just ten minutes in the future or past of whoever you last touched, which in this case must have been Bakugou. Good job getting me. Now I’m going back to sleep. Please don’t contact me unless there is an emergency. Bakugou, Midoriya, if I hear a peep of noise complaints about your rooms, I’m expelling you both. If anyone gives me any details, I’m expelling them too. Good night.” With that, Aizawa stepped out of the room, leaving multiple classmates shaking with poorly-muffled laughter and a very red Katsuki and Deku. They made eye contact and hurriedly looked away, Deku scratching the back of his head and Katsuki shoving his hands deep in his pockets. “We should probably talk,” Deku ventured through his blush, “My room or yours?”

Katsuki threw his Level 5 Imminent Death Glare at Kaminari when he opened his mouth, satisfied with the “eep!” it provoked. “Hurry up then,” he said to the nerd, already walking towards the elevators. Deku fell into step next to him as he always did, and apparently always would, if the quirk was to be believed. Katsuki had to hide another smile at that. He didn’t know exactly what the future held, but if the way the nerd was looking at the floor and smiling uncontrollably, seemingly unknowingly, was any indication - it would be pretty alright.

[burnedbyshoto]

hole in the wall

In a party for the ages, Shouto comes across a room with hole in the wall that has him coming back for more.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, PWP, cult activity, drug mention, alcohol consumption, glory hole, cursing, degradation, praise, possessive jealous!shouto, stuck in the wall, spanking, overstim, bruising, bleeding, breeding

word count: 7,831

a/n: read the fucking warnings bro, im tired, I hate formatting, here’s to finally writing what I wanna write! also, this is for a lovely bnharem collab that kept getting pushed back... make sure to read the intro to understand my story! anyways, gloryholes is peak anonymous sex and I just,,, if thats the only way imma get to suck shoutos cock, I will. I had something else to say... I forgot. oH THIS IS WRITTEN IN A NEW STLYE-ISH??? porn from shoutos pov!!!

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Traditionally, when people think of the connection between heroes and cults, they expect that the heroes eradicate the cults, not that the heroes are a part of a cult.

It was somewhat ironic that a group of people who advocated for public safety, for the wellbeing of every citizen of the country - the world - would demand compensation in areas that didn't involve financial compensation. Heroes saved the day countless amounts of times, but when they needed... help at night because they've been so busy saving the world, there needed to be compensation.

It had shocked nearly everyone within the hero community when none other than Yaoyorozu Momo brought them a solution. For nothing more than loyalty to saving the day, all heroes granted the benefit of joining the Savior of Eight Million, an… organization brought forth by the prodigious hero. It had shocked the hero community at first that the once thought of a modern-day princess, putting together a wicked group that served the beastly needs of heroes, was almost laughable. But as time passed, as trials tested the organization (cult), the more heroes realized how lucky they were that it was Yaoyorozu who created this.

The Yaoyorozus, in all their riches and connections, made this group untouchable.

Police were bought off, apprehended, silenced.

Heroes with the savior complex were put down.

Villains were never believed.

The Savior of Eight Million held ties with the greatest, the most esteemed people in the world. The parties were unworldly, dripping with diamonds and gold, the sweet smell of champagne barely drowning out the bitter acidic and burning plastic smell of the drugs used vicariously at their gatherings. All heroes joined, politicians and celebrities fought to get in, and commoners wished they could be the servants of the night, whether that meant they would be serving food, drinks, or drugs, or allowing the heroes to do what this was all started for: to fuck them.

Of course, it didn't help that each commoner was paid for their service, discretion, and loyalty. Those who attempted to give away the secrets of the nights were always taken care of, and every gathering after someone tried to snitch, there was always a complaint that a sex slave just wasn't good enough.

Yaoyorozu Momo was a sweet girl, a helpful woman. She was a hero.

Heroes far and wide grovel at her feet in thanks, and even more surprisingly, even her old class supported this. Oh, how great life was when you were the most significant, greatest, and most untouchable cult in history.

To Todoroki Shouto, well, he didn't really have an opinion on this all, not really at least.

The cult - the organization, was created to help out heroes such as himself live comfortably while having such a busy lifestyle. His sex drive had never been that high, with his twenty-fifth birthday approaching, he could count on his two hands the number of times he'd been attended to with the help of the organization within the past five years.

Yes, two years after debuting as heroes, Momo had approached the graduate class with her plan. Todoroki Shouto could never deny a friend, especially not someone as smart and intentional as Yaoyorozu Momo. He had been one of the first - if not the first - voice to approve of her project.

However, the fifth-anniversary gathering (it was not a party) was finally here. Two months ago, the first round of reminders came around in the form of a beautifully handwritten card by their fearless yet kind leader. Shouto wondered if she really had handwritten each and every card, or if she had created it with her quirk - while he wasn't that heavily involved, he was not ignorant to the numbers of the cult, group, organization.

TO TODOROKI SHOUTO,

I WRITE THIS LETTER TO ASK IF YOU WILL BE JOINING US IN TWO MONTHS FOR ONE OF THE MANY GREATEST CELEBRATIONS WE - THE MEMBERS OF THE SAVIOR OF EIGHT MILLION - WILL HAVE FOR OUR FIFTH ANNIVERSARY OF BEING SUCH A WELL RECEIVED AND INFLUENTIAL ORGANIZATION. I AM GRATEFUL TO RELAY THAT OUR ESTEEMED MEMBERS BAKUGOU-SAN AND MIDORIYA-SAN WILL BE HOSTING OUR EVENT!

I FEEL AS IF WE HAVE NOT SEEN EACH OTHER IN SO LONG, TODOROKI-SAN, AND I MISS YOU SO DEARLY. I HOPE THINGS IN YOUR LIFE HAVE BEEN FINE AND THAT WE SHOULD MEET UP AS SOON AS POSSIBLE! PLEASE MAKE SURE TO RESPOND TO THE RSVP TO EITHER JIROU-SAN, KAMINARI-SAN, OR ME!

UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN, YAOYOROZU MOMO

The letter had been kind, inviting, and so fleeting it made Shouto feel like he needed more from one of his most missed and trusted friend. Still, there would be time to catch up with everyone, no use in pushing now.

Grabbing his phone, Shouto typed in Momo's contact name into the search bar, tongue swiping his lower lip while he typed in his message and sent it. He had never been one for these parties. Too often, there were just too over-the-top. The festivities and friends were fun, but having to fight the impossible crowds for a moment of peace kept him from attending.

A truly mundane member.

But this was different after all, it wasn't every day that they celebrated five great years of service.

I'll be going, Yayorozu.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Two months went by before Shouto had even realized it.

In those two months, he had received a formal invitation with a day and time. 

2X28, OCTOBER 23

STARTING FROM 20:00

Of course, the lack of an address is a precaution for keeping their organization out of the limelight should they be betrayed. Events of all shapes and sizes were always planned by the upper board of the organization. Only a specific few knew the place where the night would befall, and the rest of the members would be brought to the festivities by a chauffeur provided by the Yaoyorozu's. Getting to and from the party was always stressfree, no matter what befell that night, their safety of getting home was still safe.

The invitation was tucked away into the inside pocket of his jacket, it was his ticket to getting into the party, and it was best to not leave it behind. 

With the invitation now securely placed into his jacket, the smooth inflexible material stiff against his chest, Shouto stared into the mirror he stood before.

An elegant full-length mirror reflected his image to him, and truth be told, he was impressed with his presentation.

A charcoal grey Italian suit trimmed glinting silver nearly gleamed against the white light; the jacket was undone, exposing the white-collared long-sleeved shirt underneath. Typically, Shouto was a tie man, but the sleek black tie he was to wear lay hanging on the hanger, the first few buttons of the shirt undone. It highlighted his toned chest, the few pale scars on his chest just visible enough on his exposed skin to look like it was intensional. He looked good.

His fingers touched his hair, the once long style had been cut in a recent fight with a villain. It hadn't mattered much to Shouto, and in fact, the sudden haircut had spiked his overall ratings. It was short now, just long enough for his fingers to graze through the locks. It was slicked back, the swirl of red and white mixing and strands of red falling into his sight.

“Todoroki-sama, the car is here.”

Shouto didn't bother turning to the attendee, his gaze taking him in one last time.

"I'll be there."

His footsteps were quiet in the hallway, his waxed shiny black shoes gleaming in his hands as he walked to the front room. He slipped on the tight shoes and looked up to his servant, who stood at the front door with a patterned, black mask.

Nodding, he grabbed the mask and slipped it inside of his jacket as well.

A kitsune.

"Safe journey."

"I'll be back tonight."

And into the car, he went, the warm smell of leather and spices filling the backseat of the self-driving car. Shouto relaxed against the black leather, his eyes staring at the road while he slipped the mask out from his jacket. There was no reason to don the mask while stepping out of the house, being caught with it at his home always smelled trouble. 

In the car's silence, his fingers rested onto his lap, his lips set into a firm line while his thoughts lingered to what was to come at this party. 

The last time Bakugou and Midoriya hosted anything, it had ended with an overall disaster. Thankfully then it had been for their agency's founding party and not something dealing with the organization. But before he could muster the will to seek out further information on the private event, he realized that the car was already pulling into the large mansion where the event was being held.

People emerged from the cars before his own, the sleek masks donning on their faces, keeping their identities from unwanted eyes. The covers were specially made by none other than Yaoyorozu with the assistance of Hatsume Mei to ensure that those who wore it would be unrecognizable unless they were within a certain radius.

A small puff of air escaped Shouto's lips as his car pulled up to the unloading zone, and his strong fingers slipped on the mask before the car door opened. With the confidence and power, only those who worked as a top-ranked hero had Shouto emerged from the car immediately greeted by the entrance staff. 

With his hands moving to button his jacket, he nodded his head when receiving information on what to expect upon entering. Shouto felt like he nodded forever while making his way up the entrance of the event, his hand reluctantly offering his phone and wallet over and receiving a ticket for retrieving it. Of course, the ticket came the bundle of condoms.

An eyebrow arched under the mask, and Shouto couldn't help the amused smirk that befell his lips as he pocketed the condoms.

The fuckers made this a sex party.

Why they even bothered to deny that they were a cult was beyond him at this point.

But as the grand doors opened, Shouto couldn't help but tense at the room's mixing aroma.

The sweet smell of champagne bubbled in his nose, wafting in powerfully with the perfumes secreting from every person in the room. If it had been his first time at an event like this, Shouto would have missed the undertone of burning plastic in the air. His eyes followed a civilian dressed up in a zebra zentai bodysuit holding a silver powder with most definitely not cocaine to who looked like the Prime Minister since he had his mask on.

Rolling his eyes, Shouto walked further into the room, ignoring the offers of drugs and alcohol as he carried on. 

"Todoroki, my man! You made it!" came the loud and energetic voice of Kaminari Denki.

It shouldn't have shocked Shouto to immediately be swarmed with who looked like Kirishima (who wore a mask resembling a bear) and Kaminari (who had his mouse resembling mask resting on around his neck), who by the smell at least, were not sober.

"You're the last one to show up, dude! We almost thought you were gonna flake!" Kirishima added, his hand coming to land on Shouto's shoulder, his lips perked into a broad smile. "Everyone else decided to join the orgy room a few minutes ago, but this guy here—" he made a pointed jab at Kaminari's chest. "Was causing a large enough disturbance that we were kicked out."

"Bro, it's not my fault that those dummy civilians can't handle a few jolts of pain!"

"You literally electrocuted everyone in that orgy and left everyone unable to speak for a solid minute, bro!"

"Everyone else is here?" Shouto interrupted rather impressed to here that even Mineta was invited to this party - or maybe he had snuck in - choosing to ignore the mention of an orgy room.

Typical cult things, he reminded himself.

"Yeah, Denki and I don't have to go in tomorrow, so we pre-gamed at his place before coming. Sero did too, but after a few minutes of talking with some trapeze girl, they went into a room and well…" Kirishima trailed off, letting Shouto put two and two together. "Mina is flirting with the crown prince, Yaomomo and Jirou are in the orgy room, Bakugou and Midoriya seem to be micromanaging everything—"

"Those two need sex the most out of the entire class! Have you ever seen a bigger work pole up anyone's asses than in those two?!" Kaminari groaned, his fingers roughly rubbing the skin of his face, and Shouto laughed softly in agreement. It was somewhat ironic that their virgin classmates were the ones who organized and put together a sex party.

"I can't begin to imagine Midoriya having sex. Although that man is basically becoming sex on legs," Kaminari continued to gripe, Shouto grunting softly in thanks when Kirishima handed him a cup filled to the near brim with a copper liquid that burned smoothly down his throat. Shouto grimaced as he managed to down the entire thing. "I can see Bakugou just blowing a hole into the wall and fucking it and considering that sex. Ain't nobody normal who can — OH MY GOD!"

Shouto looked at his friend with nearing annoyance; however, the alcohol already taking a humming effect over his body made the annoyance slip easily.

"Bro, you're gonna get us kicked out of this party, and that's gonna be the shittiest thing!" Kirishima groaned while Kaminari spazzed with what seemed to be the biggest lightbulb of an idea.

"The hoes — the holes! For the glory!" Kaminari slurred with how fast he was speaking, his hands fisting into both Shouto's and Kirishima's jackets, his yellow eyes burning bright in his excitement.

Shouto tried to keep his annoyance down, and the itch to rip Kaminari's iron grip from his shoulder.

"I don't know what you're talking about—" Kirishima tried again, his hand resting on Kaminari's ribcage to steady him. 

"Ei, the gloryholes!"

Gloryholes? 

Shouto numbing mind searched the banks of his memory to figure out where that word came from and why it sounded vaguely familiar.

"Oh, fuck," came Kirishima's strained approval, and Shouto looked at his two friends who were grinning pervertedly at each other.

"What's that?" Shouto asked, his lips buzzing slightly as the alcohol was fully absorbed into his bloodstream, and somehow the smell of sex filled his nose, and the noises of unadulterated carnal lust filled his ears.

"Oh man, Todoroki, if you don't know," Kaminari trailed off, his lips pinched into an elfish smirk, and electricity coming off his hair in his evident excitement. "Just trust me, you gotta experience this shit!"

Shouto wasn't sure if it was the alcohol that thrummed merrily in his veins or the knowing glint in his friend's eyes that whispered to him to find out just what it was, but he felt his head nod without his full awareness. The feeling of their hands on his upper shoulder felt fuzzy as they took him away, intent heavy in every step they took.

He could barely take in the passing rooms as they went, the aerial artists, the sex rooms, the orgy rooms. There were so many rooms designated for just about every kink imaginable that even the stoic Shouto felt his cheeks flaring in embarrassment. With each passing step and opened room, the smell of sex, pheromones, and lust grew in Shouto's nose; the more the sticky sweet moans and screams of the cult members clung to his skin.

For a hero that was never too hot or too cold without his own ministrations, his skin was feeling feverishly hot with cold feet when they finally stopped in front of the only closed door in the hallway.

"Welcome!" came a cheery voice, Shouto blinked, and a woman appeared from nowhere.

She wore a powder blue ava tea dress; it was elegant, sleek, yet too old-school for an event such as this one. Shouto immediately assumed that she was not partaking in the sexual activities, but was instead acting as a hostess of sorts.

"Just you three patrons tonight?" she asked, her head tilting to the side and Kirishima speaking up in agreement for the group of three. "Good, good. We do have enough openings for the three of you, most people haven't found our little… hole in the wall, if you would," she took a moment to giggle joyfully, her gloved fingers pressing to her ruby red lips and Shouto fought the urge to walk away. "So please, feel free to look around and stay as long as you want!"

Her words were light and breezy, but still, there was rising suspicion and tension in Shouto's spine at her small quip.

With an innocuous smile and a glint in her eyes, she opened the door with a gentle, "have fun," and Shouto's friends ushered him in.

His initial reaction? What. The. Fuck?!

The room they entered was large and spacious, or well, at the very least, Shouto assumed it would have been if it wasn't for the obviously installed maze of walls. But with every wall, there was a collage of pictures. Faces of women, men, humans, mutants, everything you could think of plastered above a hole. Curiously enough, the images above one hole were of the same person.

His eyes swept the room, and he saw a few spots already taken, men with their pants and underwear dropped to their knees pressing up against the wall so that their noses were smushed to the makeshift walls.

Shouto blinked.

Gloryholes? Pictures of random people?

Were they fucking ghosts?

"This is paradise!" Kaminari groaned in pleasure, his arms spacing out as if he had come with fantastic news. "These normies always look at you so weirdly when you fuck at orgies, here… you get the nut and don't have to have them staring at you!"

Paradise?!

Shouto stared as his electricity wielding friend approached a hole that adorned photos of a girl with hooded eyes and a tongue piercing. He dropped his bottoms before sticking his hardening cock into the waiting hole with two raps of his fist. At this point, Shouto wasn't sure if what he had drunk was actually alcohol now. 

"These aren't dead people, are they?" Shouto couldn't keep himself from asking, his palms sweating while Kirishima laughed deeply in his chest.

"Not at all, man, it's real people, I promise! Pick your hole and have fun!" Kirishima encouraged, placing a solid pat on Shouto's shoulder before approaching a hole with a picture of a girl with bright eyes and a bright smile.

Nodding numbly to himself at this point, Shouto meandered the different walls, his eyes absorbing the various pictures on the walls.

But he fell on the spot with a picture so vivating that drew him in. The chasms of your eyes defiant yet shy, a smile that called him in, and lips that looked supple and strong.

He stood no chance in defying the itching, burning need to follow suit of every other person in this room. Shouto approached the hole, his fingers pulling at his belt, quickly lowering his charcoal grey slacks and black boxer briefs. He stared into your pictured eyes, mesmerized by them, and grasped onto his hardening cock.

A soft shudder invaded his skin as he pressed his cock through the awaiting hole, the skin of his heated cock scraping against the hole, making him strangle a grunt in his throat. But when the wet heat of your mouth enveloped his cock past the hole in the wall, Shouto's face nearly crashed against the wall.

Shouto wasn't sure what to have expected, but he had summed up that this was some over-glorified handjob, a vigorous clumsy jackoff he could have done himself. But he did not expect, in any sense of what this was, to be met with warm, wet lips and a tongue that pressed underneath the head of his cock.

A guttural noise slipped past his lips, and Shouto's palms pressed against the wall, his head spinning dizzyingly from the sensation.

Shouto's breathing was erratic, his cock hardening more, twitching within your mouth as he felt your head begin to bob against his length at a slow, leisurely pace. 

His hips thrust toward the wall, his vision spinning from what this heightened sensation of what he always thought to be a mundane act. Shouto's slacks were too far up his thighs; however, the fabric spread to his max despite his attempt to lower down. He wanted to get closer to the wall, get whoever you were past this wall to take in his entire cock without an issue, so mindlessly, instinctively, he shoved the slacks further down, grunting with relieved pleasure at being able to spread out further, at getting closer to you.

"Holy shit," Shouto grunted, his forehead pressing against the cold wall, undoubtedly crinkling the paper of your photos. His hips came forward, hitting the wall dividing him and you with low, vibrating thuds, and you let him, allowed him to keep his rutting hips at the pace they were. You took him in as if it was nothing, the smooth skin of your lips gliding against his throbbing length, your tongue running alongside the bottom of his cock, tracing the veins of his skin, twisting against the sensitive skin, providing new sensations and shivers.

Shouto knew immediately that you were letting him fuck your mouth however he saw fit.

He felt you moan around him, a long, deep, undeniable noise that somehow drifted through the hole, vibrated against his cock, and could be felt against his curling toes. The sound and sensations were proving to be effective, a pooling heat building in his balls, simmering up and down his spine and neck. How he wished to grab you by the back of your head and drive his cock down your throat without mercy.

Snarling in the back of his throat, suddenly fueled by the image of fucking you, the thought of you on your knees, tears built in your bright eyes and tears rolling down your cheeks feeding him. And as if you knew what he wanted, Shouto's knees near bucked out when your mouth took him in even further, the soft choking noise, the feeling of his cock pressing against the back of your throat sending his fingers digging into the wall.

He drilled in faster, grateful for your ability to keep up, the feeling of his cock pressing down the back of your throat sending his jaw flying open, curses and praises spilling past his lips with every inch you took him further down your throat. The area of his cock unable to be taken in your mouth was surrounded by your fingers — by god, what fucking fingers you had — warm and robust, they held his skin, sliding effortlessly against the spit lubricated skin.

"You can hear me right, whore?" Shouto growled against the wall, the hot air of his breath almost fogging the area he was standing in. Somehow, he heard the choked noise of agreement, the bobbing head vigorously nodding, sending you into a sputtering choke from the awkward angle. But Shouto liked hearing you choke, liked hearing the needy tone in your whining agreement, and he swore he was feeling his heartbeat in his balls. "You're not here entirely on your own will, are you? Came here for money, to suck some rich mans' cock?" His hips stammered when you sucked your cheeks in around his length, his eyes rolling in the break of his concentration, his blood pumping in his hormone pumped euphoria. "I want you to fucking choke on my cock, you hear that? Take me all the way in, don't be scared, I know you probably don't see much cock, but I promise if you can handle me, you'll never want other cock, slut. Take me all, and I promise you, you won't regret it."

A hiccuped breath came from your side of the wall, and Shouto almost wanted to simply burn the wall down to claim you for all his need and glory, someone with a mouth as gifted as yours definitely needed to be fucked correctly. Still, his hips reigned down, slamming against the wall so that the thuds of his impeding hips were heard softly in the other areas. 

And you? Behind the wall?

He could feel the weight of your head pressing forward, the feeling of his length sliding further and further down your throat. The pulsing of his cock ridiculously stilled with the restrained muscles of your throat, and the almost excessive drool and spit that dripped from his length with your choking movements.

More, he wanted more, he needed more.

"Fuck, slut, you're taking me so fucking well. You almost have me entirely in your mouth," Shouto growled, an inch or so of his cock still not entirely in your mouth, but not letting your tight fist work his cock. "Don't give up, take me all, I know a whore like you who shows up to be a sex slave can take my cock."

A whine (was that a horny or a frustrated whine?) emitted from the wall, and with a strained noise, Shouto felt your wet, hot lips make contact with the base of his cock as he continued to drill into you. Spluttering groans poured from his throat, the feeling of your hot cavern and resisting throat, sending him over the edge.

"Yes," Shouto gasped, the smell of sex, electricity, and barely burning walls simmering in his nose. "Fuck, yes, just like that."

Shouto could feel his nerves being shot out, the feeling of the compliant mouth keeping him pumping into the hole, his fingers digging further and further into the wall into it cracked and crumbled, his grip trying to keep his shaking legs from giving out, to break through the wall to get to you. He was almost there, so close, but needed to get over the hill. And then Shouto was swallowed completely when his slamming his stopped, he could feel your lip press to his skin hidden by the hole. He had no doubt that it must have been sorely uncomfortable for you, yet you were doing it to the point where he was fumbling for words, fumbling to keep his head on straight as your tongue wrapped around his cock, massaging the skin. Fuck, fuck, "Fuck!"

His head dropped back with the shooting electricity in his blood, sweat dripping from his temple and you, the stranger behind the wall, gave one vicious, strong suck, your mouth only surrounding the head of his cock, your wet tongue flicking the slit on his head, and he was spilling over.

Hot, thick, heavy ropes of white cum spurted from his cock and Shouto shuddered, his shaking breath echoing in his ears, and he could still feel your tongue moving, coaxing out the finality of his orgasm, teeth scraping against his sensitive cock just enough to have him seeing stars.

But the giggle that erupted in your throat was well noticed by Shouto, and he grunted in slight annoyance. Pulling away, a soft, almost unwanted pop echoed on the other side of the wall.

Shouto watched as his spit and cum covered cock pulled back to his side of the wall, and he grunted unwillingly. His forehead still rested against the wall, and he looked up to his left side with a disgruntled noise to see that he did, in fact, scorch his fingertips into the wall.

As he tucked himself back into his underwear and slacks, Shouto's blissed-out eyes fell onto the hole where your hand was perched out of it, your pinky the only finger visible.

"Pinky promise you'll come back later?" your raspy voice asked, and Shouto wondered if that was how you usually sounded or if it was from what happened.

"As long as you promise to do something like that again," Shouto smirked, his pink taking yours anyways.

He could promise that to the hole in the wall.

Shouto slips out the door and is immediately greeted with a bummed out Kaminari and a profusely apologizing Kirishima. He later finds out that Kaminari let out yet another round of voltage of electricity (he's banned from fucking anyone that can't absorb his quirk without damaging themselves), and that Kirishima in his blissed-out state accidentally went into his unbreakable mode and tore a hole into the wall. Shouto didn't bother telling them of the scorched walls and left with his friends.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

It only felt like a few minutes before Shouto found himself outside the same closed door of the room with gloryholes. The alcohol had long since been burned from his system, he is practically positive that you managed to suck it out from his bloodstream.

For the past two hours, he had been around the mansion, aiding Kirishima in his objective to keep Kaminari from accidentally killing a sexual partner. It had been for the best, Shouto believed. He was no prude and definitely didn't hate indulging in the occasional orgies - especially at parties like this. But for some reason, as strangers attempted to shed him from his clothes, lips, and fingers roaming his scarred, heated skin, he thought of you and only you.

Your tantalizing mouth and fingers.

He had exited the orgy room faster than All Might at his peak. 

He was strangely obsessed with a stranger, a person who was no more than someone past a hole in the wall. Who knew if your picture was what you looked like, but he sure hoped it was.

But when Mina had appeared out of nowhere, her perfectly manicured fingers pressing against Kirishima's chest as she emerged from behind him. She was, obviously, one of the few easily discernable members of the cult. 

"So, the crown prince does not know how to use his dick, and I am disappointed in men all over again!" Mina pouted, but her usual sly grin was back on her face before Shouto could ask if she needed help scouting potential 'dick appointments' as she so fondly calls them.

This was where things got strange in that Kirishima pointed out that Mina should just fuck a woman to teach men how to fuck women properly. Kaminari filled Shouto in with a horribly done stage whisper that the two of them had fucked before and that despite the experience of any man, Mina was never truly satisfied. 

"Alright, student Kirishima," Mina had thrust her finger into Kirishima's chest. "Follow me to the hole-y wall and watch the master do her job!"

Once more, Shouto was outside the door, the woman seemingly materialized from thin air in her same powder blue ava tea party dress and ruby red smile. 

"Welcome back! For four patrons this time?" the woman gleefully smiled, her gloved fingers clasping below her chin.

"For one, actually," Mina spoke up first, "I'm teaching these boys—"

"I've actually never had a problem," Shouto spoke up, his calm and collected gaze unwaveringly met the hostess despite the chilling horror and embarrassment of his words that crawled up his spine. At the same time, Mina looked up him and down with a small, small smirk. "I'll be taking a spot."

"Ho ho, well, excuse me," Mina giggled, turning back to the hostess with a brightness to her stance. "Two spots then. I have boys to teach!"

"Of course!" the hostess spoke unaffectedly by the group's dynamics. "Please enjoy yourselves! This part is a special treat for you lovely patrons, don't forget to be mindful of our poor angels stuck in the wall!"

The door opened, and in the group of four walked in.

If Shouto had been taken by surprise the first time, he was beyond belief the second time he entered this same room. His first time coming, there had only been those beautiful glory holes, but this time? There were no material holes.

Where the holes used to be, there were only large holes where the person assigned to the area was now presented to the public.

Asses curved to the sky, asses pointed to the ground. Cocks leaking, limp, and red with overstimulation, cunts soaked, throbbing, and swollen with overuse. It was indeed as if these individuals had been stuck in a wall, and Shouto already felt his cock twitch in his carnal lust and need to see just how you were positioned. How he prayed that you were at your spot, laying on your stomach, ass hanging out to the world waiting for his cock to claim you, waiting for him to ruin you. He wanted to feel your liquid lust drip from your cunt, splashing and trailing down your inner thigh.

Shouto didn't bother saying goodbye to his friends, the smell of sex, and his own lust switching his brain onto a one-track mindset with the growing need to get to you immediately. 

And almost to his raging hormonal anger, he came to the aisle where you were parked, and while his heart hammered with the growing pleasure to see your ass hanging in the air, your thighs pressed to the wall, his vision turned red at the sight of some no-named man rutting his ugly cock between your dry folds.

In no time flat, Shouto was behind the man, his hand fisting into the collar of the man's shirt and tearing him away from him.

"Mine." he all but growled, his aura darkening while he glared at the red-faced idiot who attempted to cover himself up in the act of running away.

It didn't matter that what Shouto did was probably entirely rude and could result in him getting thrown out, you were his, and no way was someone going to fuck you when he was there. The weirded out gazes that fell upon him temporarily did nothing to Shouto, his focus back onto your squirming bottom, no doubt weirded out by the sudden lack of contact.

But with a sigh, his fingers combing the few falling free strands of hair out of his face, Shouto stood centimeters from your shifting thighs, watching you continue squirming until he finally moved. His hands pressed against your supple, smooth ass, enjoying the way you fit against his hands perfectly. 

He stepped forward, allowing the bulge of his strained cock to press against the top of your ass — the perfect height for him. Shouto leaned forward, his forehead once more pressing against the cold wall, his eyes taking in the still visible scorch marks he had left behind and chuckled deep in his throat.

"I'm back, my precious whore, I bet you missed me," Shouto spoke through the wall, hoping that you would respond back to him. He thought he could hear an agreeing sound on the other side of the wall, another layer of muffled, and he wondered if maybe you had been gagged. The thought made him exhale slowly, his hips strained from rutting against you, but against his belief, your ass ground against his hardening cock, sending waves of pleasure through him. "You did miss me, huh?"

His calloused fingers moved from your supple ass to the outsides of your thighs, feather-soft touches skimming your skin, leaving behind trails of goosebumps and twitching nerves. Shouto's gaze remained hard on your body, watching how you completely stilled when he found his fingers against the inner part of your thigh and just shy of the excessive heat that was radiating from your cunt.

And he leaned down, his lips pressing against the curve of your ass, his eyes partially hooded when he felt you relax against his hold. But the relaxed position you held quickly erased the moment his teeth sunk into your skin, and his finger pressed against your swollen clit. 

Immediately, your body arched, a weak attempt to buck out of his hold while he heard a muffled cry from the other end of the wall. But Shouto was a hero, he was some with extreme control over his body, and as his tongue moved to soothe your throbbing ass, one finger continued to delicately dance against your clit, while the other shifted over to your softly beating cunt. 

Shouto groaned against your skin, his pants feeling too tight, the material of his underwear too hot and stiff for how strained his cock was right now, yet it was nothing to the feeling of your tight, wet, hot cunt. In and out, he pumped his finger, curling the long digit against your puffy spongey walls, the thumb on your clit circulating in slow, intentional figure-eights until you were pathetically rising and falling against his finger, a garbled whine for more barely audible through the wall. He chuckled at the feeling of your inner walls forcible clenching against his intruding finger, and he rewarded you with a second finger.

"Doesn't this feel good?" Shouto groaned, his body straightening back up so that he was flushed against your ass, his forehead resting on the wall, and his now free hand slowly grinding your ass against his crotch.

He watched you with the intensity of a predator stalking their prey, his mouth twitching into a smirk when your toes curled with a sudden drag of his fingers over a ribbed area of your core. Growling in need, Shouto's hips slammed into you, mindlessly fucking you even with his clothes on. His fingers doubled in speed and intensity until the rapid clenching of your walls was unignorable around his fingers.

His forearms ached slightly with his continued fingering, his thumb almost stiff as he continued to assault your clit, but with the arching of your back, the stuttering of your hips as an impeding orgasm was growing bigger and stronger. Shouto barely registered the sight of his own hand rising and falling heavily onto your ass, the sound of the spank echoing loudly, but that had pushed you over the edge.

A loud mewl sounded from the wall, your legs trembling entirely uncontrollably against Shouto, who still drove his hard crotch into your soaked cunt. He didn't care if you were to wet the expensive suit, his mind now solely on the fact that he needs to claim you, needs to sink his cock all the way in, and make sure you were bruised for days to come. 

Wasting no time, Shouto sheds off his pants and his underwear, letting them fall to the floor with a soft thud before aligning his already hard and swollen cock head to your clenching, sopping cunt. Shouto nearly shivers as he grips his fingers into your ass, his eyes mesmerized with how your flesh molds to his grasp, moving and shifting accordingly. With only a moan as a warning, Shouto wasted no time in pressing his cock to your cunt, and thrusting in with a single, sharp thrust.

If he had thought your cunt was tight with just your fingers, if he had thought the instance where you had vacuumed your mouth while sucking him off was tight, he was in a world of surprises when he came through from entering you. Your cunt was hot and oh so fucking tight around him, milking him dry of all and any precum that he had gathered at his swollen slit. Your inner walls flutter around him, intensely and quickly trying to adjust to the monstrous thickness that he was, and he could hear the pained panting pleasure of you through the wall, and he almost lost it at the keen whine on your tongue.

He shifted, moving his hips just so slight as to regain what little sanity he had left to ensure that you were thoroughly and roughly fucked. 

"Fuck," Shouto moaned, his fingers digging bruises into your skin, his skin feeling sticky and sweaty as he felt you continue trembling beneath him. "For a fucking whore, you have a really tight cunt. I bet you wished I had used fucking lube, huh?"

Shouto took a tentative thrust into you, his legs quivering at the feeling of the way your cunt gripped his cock, making it almost impossible for him to move as he did. "Should've made your pussy wetter then," he spoke in a near whisper to the wall, unsure if you had heard him as he began his conquest in fucking you.

With his fingers gripping your hips, he enjoys the way you bruise against his hold, almost as much as he enjoys the way the wall rocks with every slam of his brutal hips.

The sounds of his cock slamming into your sopping cunt send loud, wet noises ringing in his ears, sending a few other nearby patrons to turn their heads to look at him - to look at him in his conquest of claiming you as his. It only fueled him on, and he picked up his pace until there was a medley of sounds: his thighs crashing against your ass, the squelching of your wet cunt against his thick cock, and your thighs slapping the wall. 

Shouto growled at the feeling of your cunt stretching for him, the tremble of your legs, the way your feet twisted and curled against his knees, almost as if in a silent beg to get him impossibly closer, to make him fuck you impossibly faster, harder. 

His gorging fingers break your skin, and Shouto delights in the painful, garbled scream from your side of the wall. Your body is weak against him, yet he can still feel your hips jutting against his rutting hips, your body desperately trying to keep up with his insane speed and lust.

And when his hand presses to your lower back and the other right above your crotch so that he can raise you higher, the new angle of penetration sends Shouto fumbling for strength. It's then he can feel the head of his cock pressing against your cervix, your toes digging into his skin as he continues to pound away at your cervix, and he takes the rolling shrieks and moans from your mouth like a good thing. 

"Such a good fucking whore, I never found many of you who enjoyed when I literally rearranged their guts," Shouto huffed, his fingers tweaking and yanking at your clit until you were shaking in his arms. "You're enjoying this so much, I bet you wanted this the entire time after I left, didn't you? You wanted my cock in your pussy, I wanted to have my seed pumped into you until everyone knows that you're mine. You'd look so pretty pregnant with my babies, your stomach swollen, and your tits just fucking leaking milk for our children, huh?"

It's then that your cunt around his cock becomes a vice grip, and Shouto shudders at the feeling of your orgasm rocking through you, your pathetic keens barely audible in his blood rushing ears. And he continues, Shouto could feel the familiar sensation of his nerves being shot out, the feeling of your cunt desperately trying to milk him of his seed and worth as you grew limper in his arms, his fingers raking raised lines against your ass, forever marking himself against you, his grip trying to keep his shaking legs from giving out, his mind solidifying over the need to somehow appear where you were now so he could fuck you with no restraint. He thought of your crossed eye gaze, the possible spit pouring from your mouth as you took his every drop of seed greedily into your cunt. He imagined seeing your eyes spilling with tears, seeing your fingers rip into the fabric as he fucked you with no restraint, and with his imagination, he lost himself.

Shouto continued to blindly ram his cock into your cunt, a savage, insane last attempt to spill himself into you, fumbling to keep his head on straight as your cunt pathetically clenched against his hammering cock, finally sending his left hand to the wall, fire bursting from his palm as finally his orgasm tears through him. Shit, shit, "Shit!"

Shouto's temples are damp with sweat, and his vision swims with his overwhelming desire for you and the need to get to your room without destroying the wall to completion.

He picks up his pants and underwear, quickly fixing himself up so that he's almost remorse in the way that he can't appreciate watching his cum spill from your cunt, but the lack of you on his cock is enough to have him zipping up his pants and racing to where the hostess appears.

She doesn't stand a chance when both fire and ice bite against her neck.

"How do I get into the rooms?"

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

After being caught flirting with whoever you had pinky promised, you had been gagged. It wasn't a bad thing per se, that man had been the last person to visit you when the room was still functioning as glory holes. With the new stuck in the wall theme, it only invited men and women to be aggressive, and a part of you guiltily and ashamedly enjoyed how rough they would get in there attempt to hear you against the gag.

But you couldn't help the flutter in your cunt and in your heart when the familiar voice of the pinky promise man sounded through the wall. Right now, however, your body felt wholly and thoroughly used. Every inch of your asscheeks and cunt was abused, but the orgasm that came with his fucking was otherwordly. 

There was still nothing to prevent the shameful clog in your throat when he abandoned you after a single orgasm, but then again, you didn't expect the door to your cubicle to be thrown open, and a man stood there with a black kitsune mask. You wondered who it was, but there was the distinctive, infamous red and split white hair behind the cover, and you whimpered at the sudden shame at being caught like this by a Pro Hero you absolutely adored. 

The mask was torn from his face, the door closing behind him, and you were ripped back into the tight cubicle, pressed flush against his chest as he sealed off the hole with his ice. You were speechless as his obviously hard cock pressed against your diaphragm, and you trembled upon hearing the zipper of his pants coming down.

And the voice of one Todoroki Shouto sent shivers down your spine, reigniting the flame in your cunt.

"I got to fuck your mouth and your cunt through other people's rules, I think it's about time I get to fuck you however I see fit."

[andypantsx3]

statistically significant | 3 | bakugou/reader

length: 23,490 words | 7 chapters

summary: You’re the scientist who developed a neural net to model the value of assists. Now that your work is feeding into the hero rankings, pro hero Ground Zero has a bone to pick with your results.

tags: romance, enemies to lovers, sexual tension, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, m/f threats of violence, problematic behavior

note: I cannot overemphasize that this interpretation of Bakugou is based on season 1 Bakugou, which means he behaves very questionably at the beginning. Please heed the warnings!

The next Monday found you anxiously nursing a coffee, carefully looking over Bakugou’s latest results.

You’d let the model retrain overnight, just to get a more up-to-date picture of Bakugou’s work, and you’d barely slept a wink while it ran, fretting over your first meeting with him. After waking up earlier than ever, you’d found yourself restless all morning, so you’d made your way into Miruko’s agency well ahead of schedule and had spent your time since sucking down coffees and eyeing Bakugou’s assist and rescue scores warily. They still sat well beneath his kill and capture scorings, and you mentally braced yourself for the near impossibility of getting him to prioritize those aspects of his work.

With Mina’s help, you’d been able to con him into working with you. But just because he’d agreed to your bet, you were not stupid enough to think that meant he was going to make anything easy for you.

Bakugou, for his part, seemed the very antithesis of nervous when he met you in the surveillance room. He barged into your makeshift office mid-morning, looking well-rested if annoyed. The door banged loudly off the opposite wall and rebounded closed with a slam that rattled the AV equipment.

“Let’s get this over with,” Bakugou growled, throwing himself down in the seat opposite you. He was dressed in dark training clothes--simple athletic fabrics that suggested that he meant to book it to a training room the second he was done with you. His whole manner suggested you should keep things short.

You sat frozen, fingers paused over your laptop keys. “...Good morning to you too.”

He looked at you incredulously, blonde eyebrows raising. “I didn’t fucking come here for small talk. Get on with it, nerd.”

You suppressed a twitch of irritation, looking away from him where he sat in an agitated pile of strong lines and tense muscle. God you hoped this was all going to be worth it, at the end of things.

You sighed and clicked into the model results screen, knowing it was only going to work him into a lather if you pressed him on social niceties. “Okay, so I did some analysis--”

“Big fucking surprise.”

“--and,” you continued loudly, “as you well know, you need to adjust certain priorities on the field.”

A scoff issued from his direction. “I don’t need to adjust shit.”

It took everything in you not to roll your eyes. He was literally here to discuss adjusting shit. What was the point of him being so defensive?

You eyed him speculatively, taking in the oppositional slant to his broad shoulders, the thin slash of his mouth as he regarded you irritably. Your observations from last week floated to the forefront of your mind, that this was a man who would not easily do anything he didn’t want to do. And it was clear he did not actually want to do this--he had only been baited into it by the grace of his meddling, pink-haired friend.

You mentally resolved to play as nice as you possibly could, to minimize the amount of fussing from his side of things.

“As I think I explained last year,” you began carefully, “the model I train relies on a set of weights, and you’re ranked on that. Your work is divided up into categories: public perception, kills, captures, property damage, rescues, and now assists. Some of those categories are weighted more heavily than others, so if you do well in them, you’ll outperform your peers in the rankings who do just as well in other categories.”

Blood red eyes darted up to a monitor as you projected your laptop screen onto it, the model results translated into neatly organized and color-coded graphs.

“You are unmatched in kills, fairly unmatched in captures as well, and you’ve kept property damage to a surprising minimum in the last few years considering your quirk. You’re also wildly popular, particularly with young people, according to public polls.”

You glossed over the fact that his appearance probably had a lot to do with it, considering the tidal wave of interest from the female bracket of respondents. The fact especially did not bear thinking about when he was alone in a tiny office with you, bare arms and the hard planes of his chest displayed prominently in his training gear.

“Just fucking---out with it,” Bakugou demanded, turning to glare at you again. “I don’t have all damn day.”

The tiniest hint of smoke and sweetness hit your nose as he leaned closer, and you pushed away from him, baring your palms in the universal gesture for peace.

“Okay, okay. So you’re good at those things, but your rescue scores need work, and your assist score puts you in the top ten least cooperative heroes in the entire industry,” you explained, watching as a muscle in his jaw jumped in obvious irritation. “Rescues are the highest weighted category in the rankings model, and assists are the third highest. So no matter how good you are in other areas, you will not surpass anyone who performs well in these categories.”

Bakugou made an annoyed sound, his brows drawing together. “Quit fucking talking to me like I’m a baby. I fucking know--tell me exactly what your fucking nerd-ass model needs me to do and I’ll fucking do it.”

You breathed out of your nose very slowly, quelling the rising tide of annoyance within you. Everything out of his mouth was so abrupt and demanding.

Software engineers, picture the software engineers.

“Okay so I ran deeper analyses on those two categories and compared your movements with generalized results from the top ten heroes from each category,” you continued.

“The thing that stood out in terms of rescues, is that you were almost twice as fast as other heroes to leap into combat with a villain. This means you’re spending less time assessing the situation than other heroes, and therefore spending less time processing victims. So if I had to make a recommendation here, it’s that you should actively look for civilians before jumping into a fight. You might still find that the smarter thing to do is leap into the fight instead of evacuating them, but you at least need to slow down before you do.”

The crease between his brows erased itself and he leaned back in his chair, tension bleeding out of him somewhat, which was--unexpected. You’d have thought he’d get more defensive as you explained his shortcomings to him.

“Fine,” he said shortly. “What else?”

You pulled up two videos and projected them side by side, bright little clusters of dots collected over the location of each hero. “For assists, it looks like when you’re in range of other heroes, you actually do help, at least a little. I only found an issue when I generalized results from the top ten in this category and ran calculations about their movements in comparison to yours.”

You let the videos play, watching Bakugou’s eyes track the movements with unblinking precision. He said nothing as you let the loop repeat, the tense lines of his body inexplicably unravelling even further with each loop. He looked as close to relaxed as you had ever seen him.

After a few loops, he finally let out a scoff. “Those needy fucks stick closer to other heroes,” he concluded gruffly. “That’s what the dots are tracking.”

You nodded. “On average, you move three times farther away from other heroes on scene than the top ten heroes do. So you’re less likely to be in range to help.”

He rolled a powerful shoulder, unwittingly drawing your eyes straight to it. You gave your leg an annoyed pinch under the table, forcing your gaze back up to his face once you realized what you were doing.

“So I have to look for weaklings and stay closer to these b-list fucking clowns, that’s what you’re telling me?” he prompted, running a hand through his mess of blonde hair. It looked unexpectedly soft under his fingers.

You drew your eyes away from him again, focusing hard on the relief you were feeling that he seemed to be processing and internalizing your feedback. “Yeah, you need to assist civilians and stay in range of your team. Those are the only areas in which you really need help.”

There was a sharp crackle, and tense movement caught in the corner of your eye. You turned to find that all of Bakugou’s unease had suddenly returned, a snarl riding his mouth.

“Help?” he demanded. That scent of smoke and sugar suddenly pressed in on you again, sharp and dangerously hot.

You blinked at him in confusion. “...Uh, yeah?”

His gaze darkened and he leaned over the table between the two of you, a calloused hand catching the collar of your shirt to yank you towards him. The corner of the table dug into your ribs, and his fingers were hot where they brushed the skin under your collar.

“I don’t fucking need help,” he spat, crimson eyes boring into your face like a drill. Your hands came up to grab his, trying to untwist it from your shirt, but his fingers only tightened, unyielding.

“What--? Yes you do?” you garbled, fingers scrabbling over his. “What do you--?”

He pulled you further across the table, so that his face was scant inches from your own.

“Fuck you if you think I need anything from you,” he growled in a low tone, voice almost dangerously soft. Your blood iced over in your veins, limbs freezing. He stared at you for a long, heavy moment.

Then, in the next second, you were being shoved backwards into your chair, and then Bakugou was gone, door slamming behind him with a force that shook the walls.

You stared after him in shock, mouth gaping open. He had been fine up until a couple of seconds ago, even seeming to relax under your analysis. But then his temper had suddenly flared for no fucking reason.

What….what the fuck was wrong with him?

You spent the rest of the morning in a state of restless agitation.

What the literal fuck was wrong with Bakugou? Why had he just stormed out like that? What had flipped the switch for him in the space of mere seconds?

You replayed the conversation in your head nonstop all through your next few meetings and over your lunch break, where you furiously wolfed down a bento without tasting any of it. Your frustration carried you all the way into the afternoon, when a head of wild pink curls poked itself through your door.

You looked up into Pinky’s dark eyes and brilliant smile.

“Y/N!” she chirped happily, closing the door behind her and sprawling into the seat across from you.

You returned her friendly smile. “Ashido-san,” you greeted her politely.

She laughed and waved a rosy hand, leaning forward over the table. “I would never ask stats girl to be formal with me. Call me Mina!”

You huffed an embarrassed laugh. That was sweet, but the nickname stats girl needed to die a brisk and fiery death.

“Mina, then,” you amended, pulling up her model results on your laptop, trying to tamp down on your embarrassment. She was almost overwhelmingly friendly.

Her dark eyes flickered over you curiously and a cautious smile played about her mouth. “Heard it didn’t go well with Katsuki this morning.”

You looked up at her in surprise. “He told you?”

She laughed. “No, I just saw him annihilating a training room. I know him well enough to know when he’s throwing a tantrum.”

An awkward, hot sense of shame welled up within you at the thought that you’d pushed him to that, though you didn’t know how. You got the sense that you’d taken one step forward but two steps back. So much for your promotion.

“Uh yeah, he kind of...stormed out? He’d been listening, actually, and I thought things were going weirdly well. The bet was a good idea, so thank you,” you said. “I just…somehow I screwed it up, I think.”

Mina rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, splaying out flat in her seat. “God, you know what? I’m just so tired of my best friends being guys. They’re so dramatic and so fussy about their tough guy image. And take themselves so seriously, for no reason, even fucking Denki. I have sat every single one of them down and forced them into make up so it’s absolutely baffling to me that they still stomp around like they’re so serious and so tortured.”

Your mouth dropped open as what she’d just said caught up with you. Take themselves seriously...when she’d forced them into make up? “No. Even…?”

Mina smirked. “Oh yeah, even Katsuki. No idea why he thinks he’s such a tough guy when all it takes is a couple of tears and boom, he’s working a smokey eye and tiny little pigtails.”

You choked on a laugh, trying to dispel the horrifying image in your mind of Bakugou in mascara and lipstick. The idea of him in make up was somehow even more intimidating than his usual appearance. You did not want to know more.

It certainly did beg the question, however, why he was such a difficult jerk if it was that easy to get him to acquiesce to something that horrifying. Maybe the answer lay in Mina’s powers of manipulation. She’d known to make the bet with him, after all. And if she knew how to get him into eyeliner and lipstick, then she might know how to get him to agree to let you help him.

“Wow,” you murmured. “That’s...terrifying. How did you even convince him though? I can’t get him to spend more than two seconds around me without blowing his top like a volcano.”

Mina grinned conspiratorially, leaning over the table. “You just have to know how to work him. Trust me, you might have good numbers sense, but I have pretty good people sense. Katsuki is all smoke and fire until you dig underneath.”

You almost did not want to know what was underneath. “That’s--but he’s so volatile. I can’t predict any of it.”

Mina's grin widened. “Actually, it’s pretty straightforward. He’s actually super in control all of the time, even when it seems like he’s lost it. He’s only really sensitive about one thing.”

“For example,” she leaned forward, her smile morphing into something dark and leery. “I heard he burned through your dress at the Hero Awards.”

You put your face in your palm. “Yes. This is what I’m talking about--I thought he was gonna fry me to a crisp.”

Mina snorted, raking a hand through her mess of curls. “Maybe I only see it because my acid is similar--but it’s pretty hard to only burn through a tiny strip of fabric and not touch anything underneath, even if you’re not out of your mind with anger. It requires some precise control. Wouldn’t you say?”

You froze in your seat, staring at her. Implications began to creep over you like a dark shroud. “What?”

She grinned. “He didn’t touch you, right? Only the dress?”

You gaped at her. “Yeah--only the dress.”

She cut her dark eyes to you, looking like she was trying to suppress a laugh. “Very interesting that he managed to sear straight through your dress, then, without burning you. One might think he did it on purpose.”

You floundered. “But I--but he--! I told him to do better and he got all worked up and intense!”

Mina laughed out loud. “I bet he did. Katsuki’s a total control freak but he loves a challenge. That’s why he took your bet, and that’s why your meeting didn’t go as poorly as you thought it might at first, and that’s why he was so fixated on you after the Awards.”

Your face heated. “Don’t put it like that.”

She chuckled. “I don’t know how you feel about him, but I can guarantee he’s very interested in you. He loves girls who don’t take any of his shit. Why do you think he signed with Miruko? It’s actually kinda gross,” she made a face.

Your face was on fire. A hot wave of embarrassment washed through you and you resisted the urge to dive under the table and hide. This is not the turn you thought the conversation would be taking.

“Uh, so,” you managed, fingers fluttering. “So--um, why did he freak out earlier then? I did tell him everything he was doing wrong. But then he lost it, I think when I told him I would help.”

Mina’s grin settled back into place. “He’s so fucking predictable. He hates being looked down on, and the word help implies that you think he’s weak enough to need it. I’ll bet you anything that’s why he totally flipped.”

You considered this. “But I didn’t mean it like that--”

“It doesn’t matter. He’s got a very specific way of looking at things. He’s way better than he used to be but that’s the one thing he’s still sensitive about.”

You mulled that over. It did explain, then, why he’d reacted so poorly when he’d seemed to be fine with your critique. “Does he really need to be seen as strong that badly?”

Mina picked idly at the fluff on her costume’s jacket, thin fingers tangling in the white strands. “He has insane expectations for himself, and he’s only comfortable when everyone else has those too. It’s like if you think he can’t live up to those standards, that you don’t truly see him.”

So that was it. The mystery of Bakugou’s volatile nature explained--a weirdly deep-seated inferiority complex wrapped up in layers of crankiness and--you blushed--an interest in girls who gave him shit. You quickly buried any considerations on his romantic inclinations, and focused on the inferiority complex.

Whether you’d intended to or not, this morning you had managed to convey to him that you thought he was incapable, and not in a way that personally challenged him like the bet had, or your demand he do better at the Hero Awards. It was so ridiculous, you thought, but then so was he. And if you wanted to make any progress on your promotion, then you were gonna have to suck it up and work within those constraints.

You sighed. You owed him an explanation, maybe even an apology.

Mina regarded you approvingly from across the table. You also owed her a drink. Maybe several.

“Got it,” you acknowledged, clicking back into your model results and pulling up her ranking analyses. “And thank you--I owe you a ton. Now let’s get to what we came here to do which is to talk about how you can kick even more ass.”

Mina grinned, leaning forward in delight. “You’re welcome. And hell yeah, this conversation was so not passing the Bechdel test.”

You snorted, suppressing a wild smile. Oh, you really liked her.

You would apologize and get things back on track with Bakugou. And once Bakugou netted you your promotion, you were gonna turn back and rocket Mina up the rankings to give him a run for his money.

[lackyghost]

Todoroki Shouto blinks slowly, gray and turquoise eyes blank and lips in a straight line. His hair, split down the middle in red and white, is lightly messed up, the strands mixing atop his head. He’s currently staring at his best friend, who just said something he’s fairly certain he can never unhear.

“Is there a name for that?” Shouto asks as he raises his phone, pressing the record button.

Piercing scarlet eyes glare at him, blonde spikes wild around a sharp face, pink lips twisting into a sneer that’s not nearly as threatening as usual with the amount of alcohol in the man’s system.

“I don’t fuckin’ know,” Bakugou Katsuki says, scoffing harshly, flicking his empty beer can on the coffee table, knocking it onto its side as he pouts. “I just wanna be fucking myself, and then have the door open unexpectedly because Touya came back early from work or some shit, and he catches me, and then gets all fuckin’ bossy n’ shit, takes over, and fucks me into oblivion.”

“Do you… have a plan to make this happen?” Shouto asks, tilting his head slightly.

“No,” Katsuki says, rolling his eyes. “He doesn’t like me like that, I accepted that a long fuckin’ time ago, that’s why it’s called a fuckin’ fantasy, you dumbfuck.”

Shouto stops recording, his expression more deadpan than ever. “Right.”

“He’s just so fuckin’ pretty,” Katsuki says, groaning as he leans back against the sofa, the plush leather comfortable. “I just wanna kiss him on his stupid pierced lips, and I wanna lick his shitty tattoos, and suffocate him with my thighs by riding his face, y’know?”

“Sure,” Shouto says as he goes to his text conversation with Touya, reading over the messages from the past several months as Katsuki continues to wax crass poetry about his eldest brother.

TOUYA:Fuck, he’s so goddamn gorgeous.

SHOUTO:You’ve mentioned that.

TOUYA:DOES HE NOT KNOW HOW THIN THE WALLS ARE!? I CAN HEAR HIM JERKING OFF!!!!!!!

SHOUTO:I’m going to get a new phone number.

TOUYA:Shoooouuuutttttoooooo Why did you let me move in with him So many regerts

SHOUTO: Just ask him on a date and stop complaining.

TOUYA: STFU, you KNOW HE DOESN’T LIKE ME LIKE THAT I’m way too old for him It’s not my fucking fault that he’s fucking PERFECT

“—and then shove me onto the bed and just take me, not even fuckin’ waiting, and then go hard until I can’t fuckin’ think,” Katsuki goes on, and then drops onto his side, letting out a long, exasperated groan. “Why doesn’t he love me, huh!? Is it ‘cause I’m blonde? I’ll—I’ll fuckin’ dye my hair. Ugh, no, I don’t wanna end up like fuckin’ Shitty Hair. But I could get a wig? Does he like brunettes?”

“Katsuki,” Shouto says, and the blonde grunts, tapering off to show he’s listening. “Touya has a night shift on Friday, right?”

“Yup,” Katsuki says, sighing heavily, a little drool dripping past his lips. “Sometimes I go in his room when he works thirds and fuck myself on his bed.”

Shouto really doesn’t know how to respond to that, so he goes for a topic change. “Why don’t you sleep here tonight? I’ll get you a blanket.”

“Fuckin’ better,” Katsuki snaps, scowling, though his lids are drooping. “M’ fuckin’ sleep… sleepy.”

Shouto hums his understanding as he gets up, walking to the hallway closet and pulling out a blanket. By the time he gets back to the couch, his friend is already snoring softly, and Shouto sighs as he drapes the soft fabric over him.

—

KATSUKI: Do not text or call me for the rest of the fucking night, or I will KILL YOU.

SHOUTO:I understand.

KATSUKI: Clearly you DON’T! FUCK OFF!

Shouto’s lips twitch, but he tucks his phone into his pocket and heads for the door, stepping out of his condo and taking the elevator down to the ground floor. He goes through the lobby and out the main doors of the building.

Shouto strolls down the dark sidewalk, earbuds in and playing some music he doesn’t bother giving his attention to, he’s too busy internally hoping that this plan works because he is sick and tired of hearing his best friend and brother pine for each other.

It takes about fifteen minutes to reach the konbini, and he steps inside, nodding to the cashier, Toga Himiko, on his way toward the back of the store, where his brother is restocking potato chips.

“Touya,” Shouto says, and the white-haired man looks over at him, arching a pierced brow.

His plain white t-shirt is tight over his muscles, gained from the five years he spent in prison for arson. That’s where the majority of his tattoos came from as well—all done in black and blue ink, dragons, scales, and flames lining nearly every inch of his body. The piercings had come afterward, in his lips, ears, brows, and nose.

“Yeah?” Touya questions, turquoise eyes curious, white hair spiky and wild around his head.

“I need to speak with you,” Shouto says, his eyes flicking behind his brother to the man beside him, another ex-con, Shimura Tenko, before locking back on Touya. “In private.”

Touya frowns, but nods and walks down to the end of the aisle, gesturing for Shouto to follow. Touya leads the way through the back doors along the far wall, which opens to the large storage room. Touya turns just inside and steps into the small manager’s office.

He turns to look back at his baby brother, concerned. “What’s up?”

“I need you to watch this, it’s important,” Shouto says as he withdraws his phone.

He takes his earbuds out and holds them out to Touya, who takes them, checking the little letter on the insides before placing them in the correct ears. Shouto turns off his music before going to his camera roll, pulling up the video and handing the phone to his brother.

Shouto waits, counting out the thirty seconds that make up the video. Touya’s face is blank, though his pupils are enlarged. Shouto frowns, and he’s about to ask if Touya has finished the short clip, but his eyes flick down and he sighs when he sees the prominent tent in the man’s pants, pushing his blue apron out. He rubs at his temples and gives his brother another moment to re-watch it and then swipes his phone back.

Touya stares dumbly at his empty hands and then looks at his brother. “Was that… edited?”

“No,” Shouto says, his jaw tight as he suppresses the desire to slap the man.

“Holy fuck,” Touya says, wheezing slightly.

“He also told me that he likes to masturbate on your bed when you work night shifts,” Shouto says, and Touya feels woozy with the amount of blood still rushing to his dick. “If you were to go home now, you could bring his fantasy to life.”

“Yes,” Touya says, his cock jerking harshly in his pants. “Fuck, I need to go.”

“I will take over your shift,” Shouto says.

Touya nods, not even caring about anything but Katsuki as he rips his apron off, throwing it at his brother. He darts to the doorway of the little office and turns to look at his brother, eyes wide.

“I owe you,” Touya says seriously.

“Just get the mutual pining to end so I don’t have to listen to either of you anymore,” Shouto says, shaking his head as he sighs, pulling the apron on.

Touya nods furiously and turns, rushing through the swinging staff only doors, awkwardly adjusting his cock as he moves, making him look like a psychopath. Himiko and Tenko both make confused sounds and look over when the storage room doors open again.

Shouto makes his way back to the chips, the silver ‘Touya’ on the nametag shining under the fluorescent lights as he begins restocking the snack items.

“Who are you?” A voice drawls from behind him and Shouto turns, looking up at a black-haired man with dark eyes lined in heavy bags, his nametag reading ‘Shouta’ with ‘Store Manager’ at the bottom.

“Touya’s stand-in for tonight, he had an emergency,” Shouto says.

The man sighs. “You don’t work here.”

“Don’t pay me then,” Shouto says, shrugging as he turns around, placing a bag of cheddar cheese chips in the correct spot.

—

When Touya reaches his apartment, he slows down outside the door to catch his breath. His mind is whirring rapidly, his heart thudding from more than the adrenaline, and his hands are shaky as he pulls his keys from his pocket.

He pushes the brass key into the lock as quietly as possible and holds his breath as he opens it. Even from over in the genkan, he can hear Katsuki’s soft moans and his cock twitches, more precum soaking through his underwear to his jeans.

Touya steps out of his shoes and into his slippers, barely even breathing as he makes his way down to the hall. Katsuki’s bedroom door is open and empty, and Touya’s eyes lock on the way his bedroom door is cracked as he approaches. He takes a shuddering breath before peering in through the small opening.

Katsuki is on Touya’s bed, wearing Touya’s favorite black shirt with a white skull on the front, and he is bouncing on a thick purple dildo. He’s on his knees, leaning back, one hand grasping an ankle while the other holds a small vibrator over his T-dick, the position giving Touya a perfect view of the toy as it slides in and out of him, shiny with creamy slick.

His eyes are closed, head tilted back, and he moans again, this time around a single word that fries Touya’s brain—his name.

Any hesitancy flies out the window as Touya silently pushes the door open, pulling off his t-shirt and dropping it to the floor. He reaches for his belt next, and the sound of the metal clasps on the buckle catches the blonde’s attention.

“Fuck!” Katsuki shouts, dropping down hard on the dildo and choking on a moan as he falls back on the bed, dropping the little vibrator and grabbing the blanket, whipping it over himself.

“Keep going, Katsuki,” Touya says, voice octaves lower than normal, and the blonde shudders heavily.

“I—I can—fuck,” Katsuki says, his face beet red with his mortification.

“I said,” Touya hisses out as he shoves his jeans and boxers down in one go, stepping out of them and kicking them off his ankles, “keep going.”

Katsuki grips the blanket tighter, his eyes flicking down to Touya’s cock for a moment, dragging along the six rung Jacob’s ladder on the underside and the Prince Albert at the tip before he looks away. “F-fuck you, asshole.”

“No, fuck you,” Touya growls out, stopping beside the bed and ripping the blanket away from the blonde. “You think you can just come into my room and fuck yourself without me?”

Katsuki’s eyes blow wide, and he opens his mouth to ask for clarification, but Touya grips the toy still lodged in his cunt and harshly shoves it into him, making him gasp. The white-haired man leans over the blonde, eyes narrowed into slits as he sets a harsh pace, fucking the man with his own dildo.

“Do you know how fucking hard it is, listening to you fuck yourself every night?” Touya says, jaw tight as he leans over the man, chest heaving. “Every time I hear it, I have to stop myself from storming over there and burning your toys so that the only way you can properly fill yourself up is with me.”

Katsuki moans, clenching around the toy, his toes curling as he nears the edge. “I—I—I didn’t think y-you wanted that.”

Touya tugs the toy out, leaving Katsuki’s cunt fluttering around nothing, and he whines, having been so close to cumming. Touya slaps his pussy, and Katsuki jerks at the stimulation.

“You really think you deserve to cum after masturbating on my bed?” Touya growls out.

He climbs up onto the bed, hovering over the blonde, whose eyes are wide, his body flushed and covered in a light sheen of sweat. Touya clicks his tongue disapprovingly and dips down to lick a stripe up along his collarbone.

“How long were you at it this time, huh?” Touya questions, lolling his tongue out to lick up the blonde’s throat.

“An hour,” Katsuki gasps out.

Touya bites onto his earlobe and tugs harshly. “How many times did you make yourself cum?”

“Three—ah—three times,” Katsuki says.

“Hope you’re ready for four more,” Touya says, finally crashing their lips together.

He reaches a hand down to grip his aching length, quickly lining himself up to Katsuki’s hole and thrusts inside, giving the man no time to adjust to his considerable size. The blonde screams into the kiss; unable to describe the feeling of the barbells on Touya’s cock sliding along his sensitive walls.

Touya uses his right hand to grip Katsuki’s thigh, pushing it up so he can get deeper, and he brings his left hand around to the man’s cock, rubbing it harshly. The combination of feelings; Touya’s hot tongue pressing into his mouth, the dick rearranging his guts, and the friction on his own T-dick in combination with his fantasy coming to life has Katsuki cumming harder than he ever has.

His cunt clenches around Touya’s cock, forcing him to slow down with the grip, but he never stops, continuing moving his hips and his fingers until Katsuki pulls away from the kiss to gasp for air.

“Too much,” Katsuki pants out.

Touya growls as he pulls out, grabbing Katsuki’s waist and tugging him up to his knees. He roughly shoves the blonde around, pushing his face against the wall as he lines himself back up to his dripping pussy.

“Not enough,” Touya says, and then shoves his cock back home.

Katsuki drops his forehead to the wall as Touya drills into him, pain and pleasure mingling, building his arousal up higher than he thought was possible. His body is trembling, his nipples hardening as they rub against the chilly wall, but he tilts his hips, and suddenly Touya is hitting the perfect spot.

“Touya!” Katsuki keens as he’s sent into another orgasm.

Touya brings a hand around to Katsuki’s T-dick and slaps it, making the blonde yelp. He switches to rubbing it again, shoving the man harder against the wall as he pounds into him, not stopping when Katsuki chokes out a sob, tears streaming down his face.

The overstimulation has Katsuki squirting, and Touya shouts out a curse at the feeling. He moves both hands to the blonde’s hips, pinning him against the wall as he pounds into him. Katsuki gasps at the coolness against his cock, the cold temperature soothing the throbbing member.

Touya buries himself deep as he cums, groaning a low, throaty sound as he unloads his hot seed. He bites down into Katsuki’s shoulder to ground himself, his dick pulsing with each spurt, his ass clenching and hips shoving up of their own accord.

Katsuki pants heavily, greatly appreciating the break, though clarity seeps back into his head and his anxiety spikes. Touya pulls away from his bite and trails kisses up his neck, and Katsuki turns his face away from him.

“You shy now?” Touya taunts.

Katsuki scoffs, trying to pretend he isn’t panicking. “That was only two more, thought you said four.”

Touya blinks once in surprise and then barks out a laugh. “Oh, you have no idea what you’re in for.”

He pulls out of Katsuki and turns the man around again, shoving him onto his back on the bed. He smirks down at the blonde and pointedly strokes his cock, which is already swelling back up. Katsuki’s tear-filled eyes blow wide, but Touya just smirks smugly and plants himself between his legs.

He slaps his cock against Katsuki’s T-dick, making him gasp. “F-fuck, I was fuckin kidding!”

“Shame,” Touya hums, rubbing the head of his cock along Katsuki’s slit teasingly. “I wasn’t.”

Touya presses inside him again, slowly this time, and Katsuki groans at the feeling, and Touya bites his lower lip as he looks down at where their bodies meet. He slowly pulls back and then pushes forward again, moaning at how fucking hot it is to watch his cock sink into Katsuki’s tight heat.

“God, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to ruin you,” Touya says, thrusting faster, loving the wet squelch that accompanies the slapping of their sticky skin.

He reaches down to rub along Katsuki’s cock again, groaning at the way the blonde’s cunt spasms around his dick. Katsuki bites his lower lip to try to stop himself from cumming again, but Touya narrows his eyes and pivots his hips faster, merciless in his ministrations.

“Touya!” Katsuki screams as he’s tipped over the edge, the name mixed with a sob as more tears fill his eyes.

“Oh, fuck,” Touya groans, stilling his hips for a moment to soak in the blissful feeling of Katsuki’s hot insides.

He slowly pulls out and slides down the bed, gripping Katsuki’s thighs, pushing them open so he can lick between them. The blonde gasps, his hands flying down to tangle in his hair, tugging at the roots and making Touya moan as he laps at his cunt. Katsuki’s body twitches each time, the man whimpering as Touya slurps up their combined arousals.

He pushes Katsuki’s thighs further up, shaking his head to get his tongue deeper, nosing against the man’s T-dick. Touya growls as he drags his tongue along the man’s insides until he’s cleaned him out. Katsuki is panting, body taut and close to another orgasm, but Touya pulls away and Katsuki lets out another sob—not even sure whether it’s from relief or upset.

Touya rolls him onto his front and tugs Katsuki’s ass into the air and lines his cock up, pushing the head inside. He slowly rolls his hips, teasing the blonde, who tries to press back to get him deeper, but Touya tuts and slaps his ass, making the blonde gasp and clench around him.

“You want my cock, huh?” Touya taunts, gripping the man’s hips firmly so he can’t pull Touya in deeper. “Did you wear my clothes every time you came in here when I was gone, hmm? Did you cum on my bed and hope that I would come home and smell you?”

Katsuki whines again, tilting his hips. “Come on.”

Touya smacks his ass again. “Answer the questions, Katsuki.”

“Yes!” Katsuki shouts, still trying to rock back. “I didn’t always wear your shit, b-but I hoped you would smell me and get off to it. I hoped you heard me, wanted you to come into my room and fuck me yourself.”

“You’ve been depraved, poor thing,” Touya drawls, giving him a little more of his cock, which he eagerly clenches around. “Do you have a thing for bad boys?”

“No,” Katsuki pants out, feeling close to going mad from being edged and teased. “I love you, you asshole, now fuck me!”

Touya’s brain shuts down for a moment, but his body takes over, slamming deep inside of Katsuki. His heart swells as he processes the man’s words, and when he finally comes back into his body, he leans over the man to grab his wrists, pulling them back, forcing the blonde to arch his spine as he fucks into him harder.

“You’ll pay for that,” Touya snarls out. “Confessing to me first, huh? You insolent brat.”

Katsuki gasps, turning his head to lock gazes with Touya, chest heaving and eyes hazy. There’s some drool dripping down his chin, his face is blotchy and streaked in tears, but he still manages to look cocky. “I win.”

Touya growls, releasing his wrists and he slaps a hand between the blonde’s shoulder blades, shoving him down against the pillows as he pounds into him harder, his balls slapping up against the man’s T-dick every time he’s fully sheathed in his cunt. Katsuki begins to clench around him and Touya uses his other hand to reach for the abandoned vibrator.

He flips it on and slides the small device around Katsuki’s front, pushing it against the blonde’s cock, making the man shout in surprise. Katsuki clenches around him even tighter, and Touya moans at the feeling, his eyes nearly rolling back as Katsuki cums again, his insides flooding. His own orgasm hits him like a truck, and he slumps over the blonde as he fills him up.

“Four,” Touya pants out, and Katsuki huffs weakly.

“I’m not sleeping in this bed,” Katsuki grumbles out.

“Eh, I’ve slept in grosser places,” Touya says, pulling out of the blonde and sighing.

“There is no fuckin’ way I can walk right now,” Katsuki says, barely able to roll over to look up at Touya. Anxiety crosses his features as he looks over the older man, swallowing thickly. “Did you… never mind.”

“Meant every word,” Touya says, smirking as he leans down to kiss the man, sighing against his lips. “Especially the part about burning your toys.”

Katsuki pulls away to laugh. “You’d better not. That shit’s expensive.”

Touya just snickers and his phone dings from his pants pocket. He sighs and climbs down from the bed, legs wobbly as he makes his way over to his jeans. He lifts them up and pulls the device out, reading the one message from Shouto reminding him of the date and he blinks in surprise.

“Huh,” he mutters, dropping his pants and walking back over to the bed.

He purses his lips as he places his phone on his nightstand, looking at Katsuki for a moment before shoving his arms under the blonde’s knees and upper back, lifting him into a bridal carry. Katsuki’s face flushes darkly, but he wraps an arm around Touya’s shoulders and lets himself be carried to the bathroom.

Touya carefully steps down into the bathtub and sits down, shifting the blonde on his lap, holding Katsuki chest-to-chest. He turns the water on, wincing at the coldness that sprays over his feet. He waits until it’s hot before lifting the lever for the stopper and leaning back to let it fill up.

He grabs a washcloth and soaks it in the hot water, lifting it up to drag along Katsuki’s back, his cock swelling up beneath the blonde as the man rubs against him. Katsuki looks down and gawks at his dick before looking back up at him, incredulity all over his face.

“What the fuck?” Katsuki says, eyes wide.

“I have a refractory period that ranges from thirty seconds to ten minutes,” Touya says, shrugging. “Doctor had a fancy name for it that I didn’t fuckin’ care enough to remember.”

“For fucks’ sake,” Katsuki says, shaking his head.

Touya hums, bringing the cloth up to wipe over Katsuki’s face, his expression turning soft. He leans in to capture his lips in a soft kiss, humming a happy sound as they fall into a steady, sleepy rhythm. The kisses are chaste and warm, both of them feeling satiated and neither wanting to voice the desire to simply bask in the presence of the other.

Touya breaks the kiss when the tub is full, leaning over to turn the tap off. He settles back again, rubbing along Katsuki’s spine as he kisses his cheek. “It’s past midnight.”

Katsuki cocks a brow. “So?”

Touya’s eyes crinkle. “Happy birthday.”

[playersluv]

excuses

characters. katsuki bakugou + f!reader

it’s a confession guys <3

so maybe being friends with izuku meant that you'd get yelled at, but so what? it's not like you didn't know how to stand up for yourself. or rather, let it build up until you snap, as all people tend to do.

"why are you even friends with that loser, l/n? you could do so much better!"

most days, you could handle the things bakugou said, but you were having a bad day and wouldn't stand for his rude comments. you snapped back, not looking his way, much to his delight. he loved getting reactions out of you.

"you mean some ass like you? no thanks, kid."

"well, why not me, huh?! i'm way better than shitty deku!"

you quickly turned to him, your eyes narrowed dangerously, "you may have a pretty face and powerful quirk bakugou, but the way you project your problems and insecurities onto other people is heavily unattractive. and frankly, it makes you look weak."

you didn't wait for a response from him, too mad to process his shocked expression, instead racing to the gate to walk izuku home. he found it astounding how you picked him apart so easily. he found it endearing.

obviously, once you saw the green-haired male you deemed your best friend, you ranted about what had just happened, telling him all about your encounter. so, the freckled boy gave his opinion - more like theories - on the matter.

"so, he calls you by your actual name? says he'd rather you hang out with him? and hasn't killed you yet?! DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS, Y/N?!?"

"uhh.. yeah?" you raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "he's an ass."

"no! well, yeah, but no! kacchan has a crush on you! it's all making sense now..."

you rolled your eyes, "so what?"

"YOU CAN FINALLY ADMIT YOUR FEELINGS TO KAC-" your orbs widened as you abruptly covered izuku's mouth, looking alarmed.

"not so loud, buddy. that's a serious accusation - me liking him. how did you even come up with that?"

izuku smiled beneath your hand and gently pulled it away, "it's as obvious as him liking you! you stare at him all the time-"

"because i imagine killing him!"

he rolled his eyes, a smirk on his face, "you've drawn him before, don't think i haven't seen it. it's very detailed, i might add."

"target practice," you nonchalantly said, hoping your excuse would work.

his face deadpanned as he quirked a brow, "shirtless?"

"THAT WAS ONE TIME AND AN ACCIDENT AND YOU KNOW IT!“ izuku tilted his head down, expecting more. “... ok, fine! maybe i think he's cute. but so what? he's an ass to my best friend!" you grab izuku's shoulders, pulling him down to your height to ruffle his fluffy hair. he laughed loudly and pushed you away, swatting at your hands before standing in front of you.

"don't worry about me, y/n! i want you to be happy!! besides, i feel like he would change for the better if you dated him. and-" izuku suddenly froze, his sparkling eyes no longer looking at you, but rather behind you.

"deku... get outta here," an all too familiar voice growled. big yikes. izuku quickly turned around and started walking away, leaving you on your own. you were too shocked to even tell him to stay.

you turned around, your figure as stiff as a board, "listen, about what you probably heard-"

"originally i came here to apologize, but your conversation with that nerd was much too interesting to interrupt," his voice was condescending in a way, rolling his eyes, before giving you a smirk, "besides, you come up with too many excuses, y/n."

he pushed you against a wall, not hard enough to hurt but enough to make you gasp in surprise. next thing you knew, the red-eyed boy's lips were on yours. and you'd be damned if you were about to complain about it - not when you've imagined it for so long.

it was hot. no hesitation from either of you. your hands in his spiky hair and his on the wall behind you, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip.

he pulled away, breathing slowly and deeply, "deku was right."

"so why not tell me?" you raised a brow at his confession.

he smirked but looked away with a far-off look, "scared you didn't feel the same."

"THE katsuki bakugou? scared of what a girl would think? never thought i'd live to see the day." you poked his chest as you laughed.

"ha ha, funny," he rolled his eyes, backing away with his hands in his pockets. his eyes met yours in a passionate gaze, "so be my girl or not?"

"lay off izu and we have a deal, pretty boy," you gave a lopsided grin.

all he could do was sigh and mutter, "oh, the things i'll do for you."

Ⓒ all work posted belongs to /playersluv/. do not repost or modify.

[vicious-vixxxen]

Could I request older, pro-hero Deku with a chubby male s/o who gets ridiculed because people don't think someone of his size is good enough for the Number One hero

((Ah I may have gotten a little too deep with this one, so apologies nonnie in advance for the angst. Topics like this relate a lot to me personally. So here ya go.))

Izuku Midoriya x Chubby!Male!Reader

“That’s...such /bullshit/,” You huffed, fist clenched into the folds of the magazine, before flicking it across the kitchen with a huff- tears already stinging at the corner of your eyes as it landed split open- your face plastered over the centerfold article. ‘Is #1 Pro Hero Deku’s Husband /TOO/ big?’ The article practically shouted up at you- big, bold red letters smeared over your face, hiding the smile you’d had that night. You’d managed to secure a spot at one of Izuku’s favorite restaurants- mostly by promising the owner you’d be in and out of there within half an hour- he wasn’t the type to fawn too heavily over Pro Hero work, so ‘Deku’ being your husband didn’t hold much weight with him. But you’d been excellent patrons of his since they’d opened, in your second year of high school together. So you managed with what seniority you held. And seeing as how Izuku had only been able to snag thirty minutes between patrols, it was the perfect opportunity to scarf down a quick bite, and chat in- what you thought had been- the privacy of one of the uppermost floors of the establishment. But of course, sleazy as they were, the paparazzi had found a way to catch the both of you eating. A little too fast, a little too messily, just to be able to enjoy the atmosphere together, and have ample room to chat with one another before Izuku had to get back to his patrols. Which was fine, for Pro Hero Deku- six foot seven inches tall, two hundred and ten pounds of pure, lean machine muscle. The epitome of health and wellness, and what it meant to be strong. Able. And then there was you. A little too soft around the sides, cheeks /too/ plump/. Stomach /too/ pudgy. Thighs /too/ thick. God, you looked like a pig, food smeared on your chin, a bowl between you and your husband. ‘I guess we know where his priorities really lie’ the magazine quoted, from some random asshole on the street no doubt. Jesus Christ. “Bunch of fucking assholes.” You were angry. Of course you were angry. Fists held over your eyes to keep the tears at bay. But you were sad too. So, so fucking sad that this shit kept happening. Izuku’s management tried and failed countless times to keep shit like this from spreading. But people loved a good slam piece, as much as they adored seeing Deku’s latest accomplishments splashed across every newspaper, and TV report. Sick fucks. Whatever. Water under the bridge, you told yourself. Throat feeling tight, eyes burning with unshed tears, as you took a few deep breaths, and headed back towards your bedroom. Turning out lights in the house as you went, before stripping and crawling into bed. Thoughts running a mile a minute, as you stared up at the ceiling in silence. The only real noise the quiet sound of a car or two passing the house every now and again. You couldn’t help the way your open palms slid against your chest. Pressing, and kneading at the soft, pillowy flesh of your sides, and stomach. Grimacing at yourself, you recalled how fit you used to be during your high school days. What a dynamic you and Izuku had. Fresh on the scene after high school, no one could compare to the two of you. Kiri and Katsuki came close, but never quite managed the spark you and Izuku had. Professionally speaking. But Izuku just kept climbing higher, and higher- your quirk was good, but limited in its capabilities, which meant a halt in your hero placement a year or two after graduation. But you did what you could. You helped people because you wanted to help people, ratings be damned. But the harder Izuku worked, the more help he needed managing the world that came with climbing to number one. So you patrolled less and less, in favor of working with his design team on costume upgrades. Merchandise. Izuku trusting you and Inko to work directly with his management team, as he knew you all shared a hive mind of sorts when it came to design, and marketing. Pro Hero life for Deku was saving people. Kissing babies, and countless interviews. It was grueling, and tiresome, and he needed a team behind him to take care of everything else. So that’s what you did. Long hours spent at home alone, working through the night on various Deku projects. Meant less patrols, less gym time. You had no need for those things when you were kept busy with Izuku’s team, and you did good work! Fuck, you did great work, and Izuku praised you nonstop. Sure you’d gained a little weight at first, but it looked good on you. At least you thought so. And so did Izuku, if the way he drooled all over the expanse of your thighs the first time you’d gotten a night alone in nearly a month was any indication.   But as time progressed, you cared a little less about your appearance each day. You took care of yourself, and you were far from unhealthy. But there was no denying you had filled out substantially. You didn’t care, and Izuku didn’t seem to care either...but the media sure did. Closing your eyes suddenly, you took a deep breath. Holding it in for several seconds, before letting it out shakily. Tears finally falling as you did so, and you rolled over to snuggle into Izuku’s side of the bed- face smushed into the other man’s pillow, to breath in the soft scent of his cologne. His musk. Drifting off to sleep sniffling, dreaming of the glory days the two of you held together. Izuku hadn’t planned on coming home tonight at all, it wasn’t in his schedule to. But when he’d taken five to break for a snack, he’d ran into Kirishima at the agency. Chatting quickly, recalling rather suddenly that it had been several days since he’d seen Y/N. Scratching at the nape of his neck awkwardly, hunched over slightly muttering excuses to himself. He may have been big, and strong, but to his friends, Midoriya still held fast to those traits that made him who he was. Even back at UA. One call to Bakugou from Kirishima later, and the two of them were taking Deku’s shift, sending him hurrying home- a smile as bright as the sun on his face as he charged up, and bolted from the agency as fast as he could. Fingers crossed that you weren’t asleep yet. His dreams were dashed, but not unpleasantly so, when he landed outside however, and found all the lights in the house were off. It was late, and he appreciated you getting your rest. Knowing all too well how often you’d stay awake working on things for him. Izuku’s heart overflowed with love for you when he recalled all you did for him. For the both of you. He couldn’t imagine being as cemented in the top spot, as capable of doing what he did, without you there. You and his mother were his whole world, keeping him afloat at even the hardest of times. He...he was nothing, without you. So knowing you were in bed, getting your rest, made him smile. A smile that was soon replaced with a recoiled snarl as he entered the house- beelining to the kitchen for a glass of water, wherein he found the magazine spread out, as though left for him on the kitchen floor. Another one. Another article attacking you. Shaming you. Making fun of you. The kitchen was alight with green sparks as Izuku picked up the magazine, sneering at it when it came clearly into focus, before promptly stomping over and throwing it into the trash. Chest heaving as he sat with the knowledge that you’d probably been worrying over this again all evening. While he was out. Combing the city for villains, while you were here, dealing with...god. Hero suit boots already at the front door, Deku removed his socks as he made his way back to your bedroom quietly- leaving them in the hall- a nasty habit of his he’d never been able to break. Letting himself into your room, his heart breaking at the site before him. He wasn’t sure how long you’d been crying, but it was long enough to leave the salty, humid scent of tears in the air as he entered. And there you were, huddled up with his pillows, breathing softly- face smeared with tears, their tracks glinting back at Izuku as he rounded the bed, and just stood there. Feeling so powerless. Too big. Normally he’d clean up first, but being sure he couldn’t wait one more second, let alone the twenty minutes it would take to shower, Midoriya acted quickly. Removing his Hero suit silently, left in nothing but a pair of fitted boxer briefs- before sliding into bed next to you. Pulling his pillow gently from your grasp, to settle behind his own head, before gathering you up and into his arms. Shifting you almost entirely onto his front, before you stirred. Izuku’s stopped breathing when your eyes fluttered open, and your nose wrinkled- wanting to smile as you noticed the heat beneath you, the strong scent of Izuku’s skin filling your senses. Glancing up at him, your sleep idled mind offered only one clear thought. ‘He’s home’. Try as you might, however, the pressure from earlier in the evening boiled over again- mixing with the overwhelming sense of love you felt at being able to see him. Feel him. Smell him. Just /be/ with him. Everything was still, and quiet, a pin drop could be heard. Until you hiccupped, once, twice, before choking on a sob as you pressed your face flush against Izuku’s chest, and cried. You cried, and cried, and cried. Trying to recall the last time you’d seen him, your sleep clouded mind coming up blank. All you could see was that stupid fucking picture in the magazine. Izuku held firm to you as you cried, eyes shut tight, tears threatening to spill right alongside yours. Old habits die hard, he thought idly. He didn’t shush you, or try and quiet you down. Offer words of encouragement, nor did he berate the magazines, or spew on about how much hell he was going to put them through for this. He simply held you, stroked your back, and kissed the top of your head over and over, as you covered his chest in tears. Finally settling down after a few minutes, and simply breathing together. Your ears pressed against Deku’s wet chest, listening to your husband's heartbeat. Allowing it to calm you. Arms finding their way under Izuku’s body, holding each other now. Tight, almost too much. But neither of you complained. “I love you,” Izuku finally whispered, though it was so full of sentiment- of meaning, almost harshly so, it caught you off guard. “I love you more than the world will ever know, or understand, and I’d drop off the face of the planet tomorrow, and leave them to fend for themselves, if it meant proving to you how wonderfully, beautifully, exquisitely perfect you are to me.” Fucking…”I wanted to /stop/ crying, you fucking jerk,” You laughed wetly, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks as you lifted a hand to swat at the side of Deku’s head- both of you snickering wetly now, as you began to card your fingers through his hair with the same hand. Snuggling impossibly deeper into the man’s chest, as his words rang in your ears. He meant it too, the voice in your head whispered. Your chest tight as you imagined him giving up all he’d ever worked for, just so you’d understand. You never held any doubt that he loved you. As you were, as you had been- however you’d be tomorrow, or the day after. But you struggled a lot, internally. You always had. It would be a struggle you’d live with till the day you died, you were sure of it. But even so, you reasoned, then and there, that if even then, you knew how deeply, and unequivocally Izuku cared for you- loved you. That thing’s would always be okay. No matter what. “I love you too,” you sighed back finally, clearing your throat, and closing your eyes as you felt yourself quickly drifting again. “So so much, ‘zuku.” Peppering Deku’s chest with kisses till you fell asleep, Izuku was sure if his heart swelled any more, it would burst. Waiting till you had fallen back asleep fully, he rolled the two of you over. Caging you into the mattress beneath him, and falling asleep that way. Guarding you even as the two of you slept. Keeping you safe from everyone, and everything.  Midoriya’s only other thought, besides you, before he slipped into unconsciousness, was to call into the agency the next day, because he wasn’t going to going in for a while. ((Really enjoyed writing this one, got me in my feels, and made me feel all warm, imagining Deku holding me at the end of a  long day, when I could care less about feeling good about myself. Thanks for the opportunity nonnie, hope you enjoy.))

[cielcius]

Howdy! Could I please request bakugo with a quirkless fem reader, who is in the gen Ed classes, she is the one who heavily worked on his costume and always brings him new gadgets , and he takes a liking to her, and one day mineta is being mineta and before bakugo can step in, she just kicks him and walks away, and bakugo is just staring and is like,”that one, I really like that one,”

STAGE PROP | BAKUGOU KATSUKI

pairings: Bakugou x quirkless!fem!reader

from the writer: hello dear! I love your idea and it’s quite adorable and hilarious at the same time. Thank u for requesting and I hope u enjoy! Have a lovely day/evening hun!

genre: fluff

notes & warnings: cursing

“Bakugou!” You shout over the crowds of students in the cafeteria, hoping that your voice can reach the ears of the blond boy. Bakugou peers up from his food with what seems to be an irritated look, but his friends know better than that.

“Ooh, L/n is coming over. Do you think she’s gonna make a move?” Kaminari elbows Sero in the ribs lightly, eyes shining as bright as his grin when he sees that his teasing has successfully brought out a reaction— though more on the subtle side of things.

The shared look between Sero and Mina doesn’t go unnoticed by Bakugou as they team up with Kaminari against him. “I dunno Kaminari. Even if she does make the first move, how would that look on Bakugou?” Mina smirks as she watches her hot-headed friend grow red, and not just from anger.

“Yeah Bakugou. You’re gonna be known as the wimp who couldn’t grow a pair and ask her out first.” Sero fans the flames with his comment but before Bakugou can combust, you make your way over to their table.

“Hi guys! Do you mind if I steal Bakugou for a minute?” All four of Bakugou’s friends shoo the both of you away simultaneously, muttering— and almost snickering, about how Bakugou should go with you.

Bakugou can barely see anything in the crowd of bustling students until it’s just you pulling Bakugou by the wrist through an empty hall and towards the school’s workshop. “So, I’ve been thinking about what you said last time and it got me wondering about some stuff.” You start with your explanation and slowly go into the details of the new gadget you had made for him.

Bakugou can only watch as you walk in front of him, talking about whatever gizmo you had whipped up for him this week. As you continue to make your way to the workshop, Bakugou falls into the arms of deep thinking. He let you do this to him every week, sometimes even every other day, seeing as you work nonstop, much to his dismay. But why?

Bakugou is no doubt a top student at U.A. High. He scored top of his class at the entrance exam, keeps a tight schedule for his everyday life in school, and earns top grades. He’s smart and he can figure things out easily, except for you. You are the only thing on his mind when you should be the last.

He didn’t even call you an extra when you first collided. He called you a stage prop. If there’s anyone who can find a way to downgrade someone even further from being just a simple extra, it’s Bakugou. Yet even then, even now, nothing he says seems to affect you in the slightest of ways. There were times where he questioned you the most when you would take his remarks as compliments.

Who takes ‘being weird’ as a compliment anyways? Certainly no one Bakugou knows, before you of course. You take everything negative he throws at you and twist it into something better as if you were simply tinkering with another one of your new gadgets.

It’s almost like the purpose of your existence is to throw him off the cliff of sanity before pulling him back onto a never-ending train ride of overwhelming emotions. And he’s starting to get motion sickness.

You pull him to your station where your newest project lays, a pair of new gloves that would prove to be much sturdier than his old ones against the strong heat of his explosions. “I’ll be right back. I’m gonna ask a teacher if we can go into the field to test it out.” Without another word from you, Bakugou is left standing alone at the table with the green gloves laid out pathetically in front of him.

Is this how it’s going to be between you two? With you consistently working under him, only actually interacting for business. Yeah, you have your own friends and you have no obligation to hang out with him but that doesn’t dismiss the fact that it would’ve been nice if you did. But Bakugou can and will never tell you that. He’s comfortable with you coming to him, or at least he used to be.

Bakugou huffs before he marches out of the room, determined to be the one who would reach out to you this time. All his life he’s been told that he was destined to do great things, but how can he achieve such goals if he can’t even sort out his own damn feelings?

The hallways are filled with students now as class was soon to start. Surely, you’d be making your way back by now since there was no time to test the gloves at this point.

Bakugou peered over the many colorful heads of students until he spotted your figure near the end of the hallway where the crowds had dissolved. He, not very politely, weaved through the bodies and only fastened his pace when he saw the class pervert trying to talk you up. 

Steam started to pour out of Bakugou as he got closer to you, closer to protecting you from that perverted grape boy. But just as he broke from the last bits of the crowd, he stood witness to you kicking Mineta right in the balls and not the ones on his head.

Stunned, Bakugou’s first reaction was to grin like a madman. He should’ve known that you would find a way to defend yourself, even without a quirk. “Oh, Bakugou— why are you smiling?”

Your head was quirked to the side in a questioning manner but you still kept the small smile on your lips. This was one of the rare times where Bakugou wasn’t angry or pouting, and you were enjoying every second of it.

Bakugou could tell from the way your lips trembled as you kept your smile from growing and the grin on his face vanished like it was never there in the first place. “Nothing. Let’s just go, dumbass.”

Bakugou wrapped his arm around your shoulders to guide you back to your classroom. Blossoms of panic were blooming in Bakugou’s stomach as he kept his arm around you. For now, he didn’t mind being overwhelmed with feelings if they were because of you. 

And slowly, the blossoms wilted as you never made a single action to move away from him.