#aizawa x reader road trip

[dabisbratz]

𝒮𝒲𝐸𝐸𝒯 𝒯𝒪𝒪𝒯𝐻 — shouta aizawa x male reader

w.c: 12.4k

warning: dbf!shouta, age gap, (sho in his early 40s, reader is 23), bottom!reader, daddy kink, breeding kink, dirty talk, feminization, mentions of gettin ‘knocked up’ regardless of anatomy, sneaking around, creampie, unprotected sex ( wear condoms ! ), praise/degradation, brat!reader, jealousy, mutual teasing, reader has an oral fixation, improper use of lollipops, mentions of exhibitionism, blowjobs, cumming untouched/hands free orgasm, ‘ taboo ’

sonny says..: not proof read, msorry !! did lotsa jumpin around while writin this. . . n five months later !! she’s all done !! ໒꒰ྀི⸝⸝T ˘ T⸝⸝꒱ྀི১ ♡ m’a lil rusty, forgive me !!

You’re back home for the summer.

Well— not entirely. You’re back at your family’s summer house for the season. Gifted from your grandparents, it teeters at the beginning of a beach, crystal sands and clear, blue waters that stretch out into the horizon. You’ve been looking forward to it since you’d graduated, even if it did come with a set of overbearing parents and a sinful amount of sunscreen.

The air is hot and thick, sticking uncomfortably to your skin through the windshield as you watch an everlasting stretch of greenery and trees pass you by. The road has stretched on for miles, every upcoming exit and street sign blending into one as each hour passes by. You’ve got the company of staticky radio stations and news outlets, spewing something nonsensical about sports, politics, car insurance. . . But it’s the trip you enjoy more than the destination. Traffic and all, you prefer it over the muggy air and parental scolding. Though, the beach is nice. . .

“You’re sure you’re taking the right route?” It’s your mother speaking, her voice crackling through the speakers of your car. You’re sure she’d smack you upside the head for the aggressive roll of your eyes in her. . . general direction, but she’s not exactly within eye-contact distance. Not for another five minutes, anyway.

“I’ve been doing this for years,” You have— it’s true. Though you’re only twenty-two, you’d driven this distance since you’d left for college. There’s a sound akin to the sucking of teeth through the radio, and you have half the mind to turn around and restart your road-trip all over again.

“Why’s there so much attitude in your voice?” Her cheerful, smiley voice suddenly sounds much more shrill, to your chagrin. You thrum your fingers along the leather of the steering wheel, biting back a long, drawn out groan.

“There isn’t any,” Gravel crackles under the weight of your rubber-tire car, snapping and popping into the air as it makes a smooth halt into the driveway. Shifting gears to park, the radio switches off with the twist of your keys. And, perhaps with more force than necessary, you’re slamming the door to your car and face to face with your mother. Her phone is still in hand, eyebrows pinched at the thought of her very own son hanging up on her. “. . . attitude, Ma.”

She hugs you with a squeal, ushering you up the stairs to your childhood ‘home.’ It’s almost exactly like you’d left it— save for a few recent porch decorations and repainted walls. You hope the years have been kind to it, with the irregular weather and constant pipe problems. Floorboards creak under your weight, welcoming you home after a few long years of studies. There’s an everlasting stream of bubbly speech behind you, your mom speaking, but there’s already so much to take in.

The air is fresh and salty, hints of beachy winds flowing upstream through the doorway. It smells like home, and looks like it too, as you situate your small duffel bag by the stairs that lead to the bedrooms. Your room. You hadn’t packed much— there was still a dresser overflowing with old clothes in your bedroom, after all. And now that you think about it, you should probably change into something more fitting for the weather.

“I know you just got here,” The sound of ice swirling against glass catches your attention, and you turn to face your mother. “But could you bring these out to your father?” She’s holding a tray of decorative glasses— or at least, you’d always thought they were— full of oblong ice and freshly squeezed lemonade. The glasses are stocky enough to adorn lollipops— one each, which are probably sickeningly sour. Topped with tiny, colorful umbrellas and intricate swirling straws. It’s almost like she’s trying to impress someone, with the way she’s put so much effort into the drink’s presentation.

Your lips curl to form a playful ‘no’, a boyish smile pulling at your cheeks when she huffs— as if she already knows what you’re about to do. So you shake your head instead, stealing the tray with one hand, “Let me change first.”

In hindsight, wearing clothes about. . four years too small wasn’t a great idea. The shorts that once fit you perfectly— before your growth spurt— are now much too short, like they’ve been tossed around in the laundry one too many times. You feel almost naked, moving the pink hem down with the shake of your legs.

Your mother insists they look just fine, a dramatic downturn to her lips as she rambles on and on about how fast her boy has grown up. Still, as you walk through the sliding glass doors parallel to the open patio, the sunlight bathing your legs does nothing but make you feel stuck under a rapidly growing spotlight.

It all clicks as you walk outside— the detailed drinks, the smell of barbecue and fresh coal. There is someone she’s trying to impress, someone other than your father. Maybe both of them. On a good day.

Wiping the bead of sweat from your brow, your eyes squint at the man in front of you. Around your dad’s age— maybe slightly younger, he stands at a whopping six foot something. There’s age in his face, and worry between his brows as if he’d spent most of his youth grimacing. His hair is long and black like charcoal, save for a few streaks of gray and a salt and pepper ensemble of stubble littering his chin and jaw. Two scars— forming a cross of sorts, one beneath his right eye, horizontal and thin. But the other is much longer, starting below his brow and ending at his cheekbone. It draws your eyes to a milky gray iris— heavily contrasting against the natural black-brown of his left one. It’s pretty, cloudy and almost pearlescent.

His silhouette— tall and thick, with broad shoulders that travel on and on as he crosses thick biceps over his thick chest. He’s standing in the way of the sun, and yet, it peeks through his long hair in small, short leaks. And, surprisingly, his waist is small in his black tank top. If you feel hot he must be scorching, draped in black— down to the beaded bracelet adorning his wrist. His hands— they’re big, maybe enough to cover the entirety of your face, curled into loose fists at his biceps.

And— right, you’re here to help, not gawk. But you can’t help it, shifting your weight from one leg to another as his intimidating gaze slowly sweeps you over. He’s like sex on legs, and if you can squint enough to get the sun out your eyes, you swear you can see the imprint of his cock through his black shorts.

“Uh,” You blink dumbly after introducing yourself, and suddenly the tray you’re holding is weightless. “Ma made these. I’m supposed to help. . . or something. . .”

“Or something.” The man echoes, but it’s quiet and you barely catch it. His voice is deep, way deeper than your own, rumbling in your ears and smooth like butter. Almost husky, with a dark edge to it as flames roar in his face. But it makes your father laugh, hearty and jubilant as he bounces over to where you stand. He gives you a small pat on the back as a greeting, ushering out a small, “son.”

The heat emitting off the grill is enough to make a grown man cry, but neither of you wince when you walk by it. Cold glasses of lemonade are handed out, fingers imprinted on cold condensation painting the surfaces of each glass as they’re passed around— one for you, one for your dad, another for him. You watch rivulets of water drip from his fingertips, down his wrist, past the collection of veins adorning his forearm.

“Mr. Aizawa,” There’s a beat of silence, but it’s quickly filled once you’ve been introduced. “World’s cruelest teacher.”

“Shouta Aizawa.” Is all he says, a correction of sorts, voice grumbly as his fingertips brush against your knuckles. Your eyes flicker down to where he’d touched you, his skin warm and inviting despite the roughness of his palms. You see now, that he’s accompanying your father, occasionally taking over when he walks back into the house every. . . five minutes or so.

“An old friend of mine, we go way back.” Your parents have an odd habit of rambling, it seems, because you and the handsome stranger make exasperated eye contact as your dad begins to reminisce on old memories. “You met him a few times— remember? He’ll be staying with us, so be respectful, you hear me?” His gaze seems to dip for a moment, down your lips and straight to the extra exposed skin of your thighs, then settle back to the ocean before you can comment.

But those five minutes must start now, because after a firm squeeze to your shoulder your father heads inside, leaving you alone with his. . . friend. He’s awfully quiet, busying himself as the patio door slides shut— occasionally sighing as he wipes away the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand. It’s obvious you’re staring, maybe a bit too hard, but he’s the best scene around, really. Even with the beach right behind him.

And maybe it’s wrong to think this way— but he’s hot. Old enough to be your dad and then some, sure, but it doesn’t make him any less attractive. He almost makes you nervous, the slow blink of his eyes as he pays you no mind.

“So you’re staying with us, huh?” You eye the juicy meat he’s been flipping for the last five minutes, golden brown and sizzling in the heat. It’s rather thick, soon to be lazily flattened by the tongs he's holding and— you can’t help but wonder. . . Is he good with his hands?

“Don’t make a habit of asking strange old men questions like that.” It’s not entirely clear if he’s serious or not, but he’s certainly assertive. Like a firm, guiding hand placed at the nape of your neck. Your eyebrows pinch in confusion, but before you can ask what he means, it clicks. You’d said it out loud, let it float into the air like an everyday, casual question. But Aizawa doesn’t seem exactly bothered, more passive (if anything), as he takes a swig of the fruity, sour concoction.

“You’re not strange.” Is what you conclude, slamming the tray down hard enough to rattle its contents, and the man notes your lack of regard. Even with a slight spill you don’t bother to clean, you’re already turning to walk off the patio and dig your toes into the hot sand before it can be mentioned— but not without plucking a lemon coated lollipop free from its icy enclosure of glass. There’s an arrangement of seashells hidden beneath the coarse mounds of the glimmering seaside. Different sizes and colors, different textures and shapes. Where some would scrape the soles of your feet, others would glide across them. But as a kid you’d liked the search for tiny crabs much more than the search for shells. Though you’re much older now, you’re not afraid to say you miss it.

“But I’m old?” Aizawa says, not too far behind you from where he stands. There’s a light glint of dry humor in his voice that sends butterflies down your throat and straight into your stomach.

“Yeah. Old enough.” Your small laughter is sweet, dancing in the air in a way that has Shouta nearly pressing his palm flat into the skillet— just to check if his heart is still beating. What do you mean by that, anyway?

There’s a divot where the tightness of your shorts dip into your skin, pressing against the plush skin of your ass whenever you bend over. Even as you’re upright, Shouta can’t stand to look for too long— you’re a real, proper, honest and genuine distraction. Yet here he is, watching you move around on your hands and knees, ass taut and round— shorts tight enough to show off the cute bulge of your balls from behind. And now that he’s really looking, it’s obvious you’re not wearing anything underneath.

He shakes his head, grunting to himself as he peels processed cheese free from its plastic packaging. You just met, that’s not right, you’re simply just minding your own.

“Ugh!” You share a groan, and for completely different reasons. Aizawa can’t help but watch you scramble in the sand, presumably after whatever sea-creature that had the pleasure to pinch you right on the finger. But you seem happy once it’s retrieved, stuck in the seclusion of its tiny shell as you hold it in your palm. From what he can see, you’re not much of a brat at all. Maybe your parents are just too hard on you. He’s always known them to be dramatics.

Still, he has half the mind to drag you over by your ankle, or maybe to press your handsome face into the sand while he fucks you from behind. Ever since you’d brought out that damned lemonade— tugging on the hem of the fabric as if you’d suddenly grown conscious of just how short they were— he’d been hard. And now he has to listen to you grunt and groan over the smallest of injuries. . . His best friend’s son, his presumed pride and joy.

He’s fucked.

From where he stands, slightly elevated, he can see the bulge of the sweet protruding from your cheeks, stuck afore your teeth. Cute, as it swishes from side to side, stuck in your mouth as your occupied fingers caress the diaphanous shell in the palm of your hand. Your lips move, puckered, around the sucker, curled and glossy with molten sugar— it’s hard to make out exactly what words your mouth forms, yet Shouta doesn’t think he’d be able to listen anyway.

Turns out the creature was a hermit crab.

Shouta learns this at dinner, the day’s hard work shared on plastic platters and glass

bottles in the middle of the beach. There’s a roaring flame between the four of you, it casts golden embers along your skin every so often, crackling into the air. Cicadas chirp with the night’s welcome, loud and joyful in retaliation to the silent, serene fireflies and settling ocean.

You’re all sipping on beers, some more than others, but it’s enough to loosen everyone up. Even Shouta, whose eyes look lidded with sleep the more he drinks. He’s not incoherent, he never is. If anything he’s observant. For one, you have an awful habit of holding onto this evening’s lollipop, it seems, as you have it situated between your fingers like a cigarette. Sometimes your grip around it tightens, like when your mother wraps her hand around his bicep, squeezing the flesh in small, sporadic rounds. And though neither of you want to say it, let alone think it— you’re jealous. That’s the second thing.

Even with Shouta’s knee brushing against your own, you can’t help it. He’s so warm, muscly legs pressed against your own in a manner that’s almost electrifying. You want it all to yourself, to suffocate in his heat and capable hands.

You zone out of the conversation, blinking at the fire with reserved eyes until a thick screwer pokes at the flesh of your shoulder, leaving behind a tiny dimple. Jet black hair invades your vision for a moment, smelling of faint seasalt and warm cologne, until you turn, “What?”

“You want chocolate on your marshmallow, right?” Your mother asks for him, squeezing a transparent bag of thick, soft marshmallows. It’s tossed to you in a flash, to which you catch, but not before stealing a glance at the man beside you. His jaw sets, poking out from the mass of stubble. Like she’d stolen a precious moment away.

“Right,” You mumble, stabbing the skewer through the excessive amount of sugar. The stick hovers above the fire, the sweet melting to a crisp, flaky brown. Sticky and gooey, it slowly begins to lose its form. Through all the conversation you can’t help but glance at the older man to your left, taking in the glow of yellow and orange caressing his tan skin. His silhouette is bold and broad, legs spread wide as he sits on a thick log. What was once brown turns a deep, dark charcoal. “Oh, shit! Fuck. I meant shoot, sorry.”

You’re not supposed to swear in front of your parents— Aizawa’s paternal intuition picks that up. But shoving the marshmallow into your mouth, even as it has yet to cool down, he doesn’t quite get. Either way, your expression. . . it’s sickeningly cute. It’s cute to watch you fumble. With lips pursed into a tight line, cheeks bitten and eyebrows pinched with apology despite how obviously uncomfortable you are with the piping, burnt sugar spreading along your tongue.

His heart could almost burst.

“You’re fine, kid.” Shouta’s voice is a gentle whisper, airy like the waves brushing against the shore. With his eyes caught on the sticky white lingering on your cheek, he's desperately aware you’re not a kid. The way you move and speak, the way you carry yourself. The way you suck on lollipops like they’re something else. He’s never been one for dirty jokes or subtle innuendos but. . . yeah, this is doing something to him. His fingers twitch with want, the desire to wipe it away and rub his thumb along your lips. He should really get it together.

And maybe the fact that he’s more worried about your parents being in the way than the fact that they’re your parents proves that.

But they’re pretty preoccupied, lost in conversation neither of you are exactly interested in. Whirling his own marshmallow, chocolate melts down its fluffy outside. It’s steaming, hot and fluffy after twirling around the fire. Looking at it now, it looks comically small in his large hands, much bigger than your own. His lips part, cool air leaving the ‘o’ shaped mold of his mouth as he blows on it with a low, “Here.”

There they go again, mouth open as your pink tongue covers your row of bottom teeth, Shouta doesn’t let go of the skewer despite the light squeezes you press along his knuckles. Instead he holds on tighter, lifting and reaching until the desert melts in your mouth and sticks to your lips. Messy on purpose, your heart plummets into your tummy when dark eyes watch marshmallow fluff pull away from between your teeth. Hungry, starving.

“I can do it myself.” You mumble, wondering if the heat prickling your skin is from the brush of his fingers against your own or the wilting fire.

“Can you?” His expression is tired and flat, but his voice tilts with blooming amusement. It’s odd, the way you’re so quick to shut him down. You almost respond more openly when you hear sneaky comments or listen to gossip— ‘that boy just doesn’t know what to stop,’ ‘why’s he such a smartass?’ — spoken about you directly by you.

“Yeah,” There’s a shine in your eye that isn’t just a product of the glowing fire. Mischievous, almost. “I don’t break that easily.”

Shouta could definitely take your dad in a fight. It’s the first thing that pops into mind as the two of you stand in the dark, dimly lit kitchen. Your parents had gone off to bed almost an hour ago, and with the clock approaching half past midnight, it leaves you two alone. So, yes, he’s considering who would win in a brawl because he can’t stop staring at his best friend’s son and his pretty, kissable lips.

They’re sheen with spit, your pink tongue licking them over as you scrub away yesterday’s dirt from the kitchen counter. It’s a noncommittal motion, your arms wiping suds and heavy contents of water along the granite surface. Yet you seem absolutely dead-set on getting that one stain. The stain that has your ass brushing against his side, bare skin rippling the harder, lazier, you scrub. Not that there’s even a stain to clean.

Yep. He’s fucked.

You suppose he should be focusing on the dishes— not that there’s much of those either— but his attention strays.

It carries him through the motion of leaning over, his body practically draping your own as you bend at the waist. Black hair again, wisps of it, lightly pressed against your back as he leans down, lips by the shell of your ear and an arm trapping you in. His cock is pressed right against the swell of your ass, and he may have to consider slipping it between his waistband.

“I think you got it.”

“Oh, really?” Your hips are moving again, side to side as you scrub shapes into nothing. “Double check for me?”

A low groan sounds behind you, big hands at your thighs that squeeze enough to have the plush skin bruised and tender in the morning. His hand travels, snaking up your thighs to meet the silky skin of your ass. Spread nicely with the way you’re bent over, warmth radiating off each globe as his thick pointer finger loops around the thin layer of pink cotton pressing against your balls.

It’d be so easy, perfect access to slip his thick cock into the warm, tight walls of your hole and pound you against the counter. You could sit on his dick for the whole day, drooling and dumb the more the head kisses your prostate again and again and again. Your Daddy could fuck you on your dad’s favorite sofa, make it squeal and whine under the weight of him filling your fucked-out and used cunt over and over.

Dark pupils blow wide as he pulls the fabric away, watching your hole flutter around nothing. He coos, sweet and deep. Just give him a minute, he’ll give you everything you need. Everything and more, until you’re a braindead fucktoy with glassy eyes and sticky, dripping holes. Until—

You’ve slipped past his arm, twisting as your growling stomach makes itself known. You inhale a quivering breath through your nose, eyes wide and expecting and waiting. His best friend’s son, wriggling and writhing under his palms, handsome face twisting as pearly teeth bite at your stout bottom lip.

He’s almost frustrated with himself, voice flat and distant when you puff out your cheeks. Forget a distraction— you’re a real, honest brat. “You’re still hungry.”

“I’m a growing man, Sho.” It’s almost consequential how your voice cracks, breathy and teetering the edge of a whine as he releases his grip on your body. Light from the fridge illuminates your silhouette in a yellow, halo-adjacent glow, and once again Shouta is staring a little too hard at his best friend’s son as he bends forward at the waist.

Aizawa weighs the juxtaposition between the middle of that sentence for a moment before his breath catches in your throat. Sho. You’d called him by a nickname, ten times sweeter than the candied fruit (grapes, are they?) you’re now sinking your teeth into. You’ve grown alright, and the proof stands hard, throbbing, and pressing against your shorts once you’ve returned to face him. It’s obvious your ploy with the fruit was just something to keep your mind off cumming in your cute, soft shorts— but he’d honestly have preferred to see that.

“I can see that.”

Rough palms press into your jaw— firm, but not aggressive, until fingers close and clasp at your cheeks. A dissolving layer of baby fat at your cheeks spills between his stern fingers, and you blink as the older man turns your face from left to right, then reverse. Seems he’s got a nasty habit of looking you over, breaking you down— bare bones. You still have enough room to chew, teeth grinding on the crystallized sugar with a hard and resounding crunch.

There’s always something in your mouth.

Dark eyes flicker to the lump appearing and disappearing in your throat as you swallow, sweet sugar dotting your lips, “You’re hard.”

“Yeah,” It earns a dark chuckle, though there’s not much light humor in it, “So are you.” His lips curl as he releases his grip, slow and lingering.

“Usually,” your gaze drops to his lips. “When two men,” Then up to his deep, dark eyes as you press against him, chest to chest. His cock twitches against the heat of your body, you can imagine it now— thick and pretty, curved upward with a sticky head and throbbing, heavy veins. “Make eachother. . . hard, they—”

A door slams upstairs, the air going still as your breath catches in your throat. As if that single disturbance has stolen all the oxygen in the world, your body goes rigid and stiff, and the sound of tired steps make their way descending down wooden stairs. The candied grapes are swapped for thick fingers, with light peppers of hair at the knuckles, and you can’t help but suck the seasalt right off.

“Behave.” He takes a single step back, dripping with indubitable authority that makes you feel light and airy. Ready to bend at his will with lazy eyelids and hazy eyes. It’s not a question, not a suggestion— it’s a demand.

“You’re still up,” Your father, shameless as he walks by the two of you with barely any coverings, makes a sleepy gesture in your general direction as he opens the fridge. “Both of you, huh?” He sounds faintly out of breath, and his skin sheen. The mental implications make you cringe, taking a step toward the characteristically nonchalant man who’d just stepped away from you.

Shouta’s eyes narrow.

“Don’t tell me I’m being replaced!” He’s always been a loud man, your father, but it seems tonight his one-too-many beers have finally caught up to him. It’s just a joke, the both of you know it, but you can’t help the prickle of heat poking at your throat. You’re pulled in by the back of your head, your father’s hand pressed against your hair as he holds you in a firm side-hug, “Rather Mr. Aizawa be your old man?”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Your smile is wide and tantalizing, heavy and dripping with something that has yet to be named. “Are you a good Daddy, Mr. Aizawa?”

Then, his eye twitches, “When I want to be.”

Your laugh is instantaneous and loud, an awkward thing that stretches into deep silence. There’s a lot of things you’d like Mr. Aizawa to be— rough, gentle, sweet, and mean. But your dad? It’s laughable, and couldn’t be farther from the truth. And sure, maybe the title you'd like to use on him sounds similar, but they’re most definitely not the same. If only he knew.

“I’m sure you’re the best,” He watches you smile, opposite ends of your mouth pulling at your cheeks in a motion that doesn’t quite meet your eyes— but it’s convincing enough. “Better than your other friends, right Dad?”

Shouta is avoiding you.

You know it, you can tell! He’s always gone nowadays— a couple weeks into your vacation and you can only count a mere handful of the times you remember seeing him. You’ve barely talked, barely stole a few glances here and there— he may as well have disappeared. He’s out somewhere, somewhere that involves your father, and the ocean, and his generously sized deck-boat. You don’t want to say it, but you know you’re the reason why. You’ve gone a bit overboard, perhaps, with the flirting. Ever since that night— even before then, it’d become a natural habit of yours to call the man Daddy.

And, now, he’s grown even closer to your parents because of it. Whenever you come down for breakfast they’ve already finished, leaving your plate in the microwave— as if you’d want cold, limp eggs and soggy, get charred bacon. You want to scream, really. There’s your mother, who leaves lingering touches and bats her eyelashes like some sort of schoolgirl. You feel almost evil for the rage that sears your blood— even more so when your first thought is she’s pushing fifty.

Then there’s your father. Who is and always will be, not if you can help it, closer to Shouta than you ever will be. They drink together a lot, the guest more in moderation, but it still hurts to see them laugh about old times— over, and over, and over again. Even when you’re the topic of conversation, despite your presence being completely ignored, it hurts. You’re right here.

So you mope, lounging around in your swim trunks. Your skin sticks to every surface, humid and thick as your mother complains to you about getting some sun, stepping out the house, then something about how you need to fix the look on your face. She says the warm rays on your skin will do you some good, the salty water of the sea against your body will toughen up your bones and loosen your muscles. But there’s really only one thing on your mind.

It trickles into about an hour and a half when Mr. Aizawa finally comes back. Your father too, you suppose, with flushed cheeks that only sake can replicate. It’s once you’ve been pulled outside and forced to stand in wet, thick sand that washes away from your feet with every sweep of the shore— that they return. Once the sun has begun to set, yet still bright enough to have your brows furrowed and eyes narrowed, they return.

“There’s my boy!” No one’s boy, actually. Your father shouts with an intoxicated wave, and the grimace on Shouta’s face is hidden behind his whipping hair as he slows the boat to a stop.

Or at least, you think so. It’s hard to see with the sun in your eyes, yellow and orange flakes of the gold star percolating your vision.

It dances along the surface of the ocean, pretty and shimmering the closer you step, the further you go, until you’re submerged in water from your knees—down. There’s a shout, something akin to a ‘catch!’, and you have barely any time to react to the ball that’s flying to you with an oddly precise amount of speed and velocity. You gasp, whipping your head back to catch the ball between two sea-soaked hands.

“What the hell?!” Your hands sting, pretty eyes blinking back at the two silhouettes in your vicinity. Mainly at Aizawa, who hasn’t even acknowledged you, let alone looked away from the resplendent horizon. And what’s so good about that? Of all things to look at— you’re right here! You don’t leave with the setting sun, nor do you only ever arrive with the rising one. You’re a constant, and you know you don’t hurt to look at.

So you throw the ball back, all your force behind it with a smug look on your face until it smacks Shouta in the leg— right in the center of his calf with a horrifying thump of a sound.

“Fuck,” You shout in horror, despite it all. Despite the desire to maul him the last few weeks, rushing forward into the water with the cutest tremor to your brows. “Fuck, okay, shit, my bad!”

And it seems you can’t move fast enough to wade through the rippling waves, where schools of tiny, nipping fish and textured shells had twirled and danced about through the currents of pellucid water. But Shouta seems just fine, almost as if he’d forgotten how to react to the feeling of getting punted with a ball at full force. He picks it up, waves it in his large palm, and throws it back. You can hear it tear through the air, just as it smacks you in the shoulder with so much force you don’t register it at first.

Numbness spreads along your arm, eyes blinking up at the older man who laughs. It’s quiet yet hearty, and not at all a pretty sound. It’s more contagious if anything, a wheeze of sorts, but your lips still curl into a petty frown regardless. You can make out a huff of “Your face!” broken up with laughter, biting back on his tongue.

“I’m not laughing.” You grumble, rubbing at your shoulder with faux diligence.

There’s an eerie smile on his face, enough to send shivers down your spine as water drapes your face and drips down your body— boat engine revving with ferocity as the men float off into the boarding dock— Aizawa’s presence arrives just as fast as it leaves.

You’re left to your devices, gawking as you process the last few minutes— his smile, your brattiness and stupidity, the way you’d only just noticed his prosthetic leg— at the mention you can feel miscellaneous fish brush against your own, scales shining through the transparent waters. You can’t help but smile too, wiping it away with the back of your water-draped forearm. Fuck.

It’s only been a month and you’re smitten. He’d left you in favor of your father again, and all you can do is giggle about it.

There’s not much you know about the man— now that you think about it. There’s been a brief drunken mention of him having kids of his own, a little girl, you think. Maybe a son? Despite his affliction for quiet, Aizawa looks as though there’s more he wants to say. To share, to tell. Your father must know it all, seeing as they grew up together, and part of you can’t help but feel a bit jealous.

Hmph.

“What’re you sulking for?” His voice has broken you out of a daydream, turning your body to look him in the eyes. The man of the hour— Shouta. You almost hate how quick you are to melt under his gaze, squaring your shoulders with the stability of poorly glued popsicle sticks.“That ball bounce off your head, too?”

“I’m not sulking.” You watch him walk around the perimeter of the shore, slow and calculating, with his hands balled up in the fabric of his black t-shirt. He pulls it overhead, tummy contracting and biceps rippling— it still manages to catch you by surprise, how much muscle he’s hiding under his baggy clothes. Your brain sets off a symphony of ooh’s and ahh’s, unable to tear your gaze from the light rise and fall of his chest.

Your eyes trail back up, past the bend of his collarbones, up the display of stubble on his throat— he’s staring right at you.

“Uh — I wasn’t. . anyway. . What’re you looking at?”

His lips twitch, briefly pressed together before relaxing as he steps into the cold water. He’s slow, hair rippling just as smooth as the ocean, the further he moves forward. And, despite that, he slowly curls a finger to and fro, as if he’s talking to a small kitten. “C’mere.”

You’re frowning when you trudge forward, hesitance in your step. “Mr. Aizawa,” you grumble, still something of a cute little sound, using the prefix your father introduced him with. Something about it makes Shouta’s frame stiffen— the title, or maybe the pettiness behind it. It’s not like you call him that when you’re in a particularly good mood. “You didn’t seem to want me around earlier.”

“Quiet,” He tuts, clicking his tongue as if he knows the game you’re playing. But despite the curt, clean-cut execution of his tone, his thumb finds your cheek with the same gentleness as a spring breeze. “Your parents were always around earlier.”

Oh.

You play off your surprise well enough, swatting his hand away with a deep grunt. Sure, it feels good. His hands on your skin— such rough palms that cover your body — but you’re not desperate. Not entirely, not even when he fixes the twist of your face with a quick look to your furrowed brows. You settle for a sigh, grumbling, “They don’t have shit to do with me.”

“You’re, what, twenty-five—“

“Twenty three.” You interject, almost proud you can correct him. Rivulets of water trail down your arms, and his gaze seems to follow its motion.

“Twenty three,” He echoes with something of a breathless sigh tilting his voice. For a moment you think it’s the interruption— he’ll work on it later. Maybe he’s been struck by just how much younger you really are. “They have everything to do with you. You’re still their kid, I doubt they’d be enthusiastic about leaving you alone with an older man. A stranger, at that.”

“But they did,” You look around, as if to prove your point. Shouta’s never been one for dramatics, let alone those fueled by snappy attitudes and rolling eyes, but it looks cute on you. Maybe even cuter if it were accompanied by tears. “They left us alone. . . Half naked. . . At a beach. . . Alone..”

“I get it. We’re alone,” Shouta’s voice has always been so deep, rumbly and tired and smooth in your ears but even more so when he’s irritated. “Drop the attitude.” It’s different in a way. Leaves no room for argument, though you still feel the overwhelming need to stomp your foot and keep on pressing. You can’t help the shudder, nor the goosebumps crawling up your thighs. It’s just so fun to push his buttons, to watch his passive face twist for a split second as he processes your words.

It’s not exactly hard when he allows it. Shouta lets you push until your heart’s content, only reprimanding you with a glance or cleared throat— and it’s almost eerie. You can’t help but feel

like you should be anticipating something, even as you stand flush against his thick body in lukewarm ocean water and he looks at you with contentment.

Then it occurs to you. . . He’s letting it build up.

“And you’re not a stranger, Mr. Aizawa.” Obviously you’re softening the blows, so he watches you step forward, arms crossed over his thick, plush chest. You’re just so cute, brushing past his overwhelming seriousness with a smile— albeit sly. He can’t stay mad forever. It’s not fair, how cute you are, with lips stretched out and teeth on display, with the apples of your cheeks rising, and the cutest little twinkle in your eye. He wants to kiss you. . . He wants to kiss you so bad it’s starting to hurt.

Especially when you lean forward, sunlight bouncing off the ocean surface and across your body— painting you in pretty, golden slivers of glow. Across your face, your chest, your stomach, your thighs. It’s been a while since he’s felt his skin against your own. Since he’s run his large, calloused hands along your body.

“What happened to ‘Daddy’?” He asks, absentmindedly.

“What?” You break his trance, looking down at yourself with a hint of something Shouta can’t quite place. Uncertainty, perhaps? Vulnerability, maybe. It’s odd, you usually prance around so confidently. You wear the tiniest— tightest— clothes known to man, have the smartest mouth, egg him on day in and day out.

That’s not it. You look smug. You’re playing him for a damn fool.

“Nothing.” Aizawa sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. It’s wrong— it’s cliché, maybe even taboo. He wants to wipe that look off your face. He wants to kiss his best friend’s son stupid. The man he’d just shared parenting advice to, the man he’d spent years upon years of highschool, college, divorces, with. It’d been so innocent when he’d visit— maybe he should’ve never stopped. Maybe he shouldn’t have come back to see you in full bloom, so handsome and lithe and sweet.

“ ‘Nothing,’ ” You echo, snarky as you mimic the flat, detached tone of Shouta’s voice. If you weren’t sulking before you definitely are now, readying yourself to push past him like some spoiled brat who was just denied their favorite candy after being caught trying to steal it nonetheless. So He holds onto your bicep, squeezing the flesh as it flexes with your feeble attempt at struggling.

“Are you done yet? Or do you need a minute to calm down?” He shifts his weight, voice calm and level as he holds you still despite the straining. Not a single hair on him is out of place, his tranquility almost alarming.

“Let go, old man!” He has to ignore the rush of adrenaline the back and forth gives him— the way he has an incessant urge to squeeze your jaw just a bit tighter.

“Hey,” You watch his lips curl to coo, a tone somewhat akin to a parent shushing a fussy child. Your face is turned to face him directly, “How many times do I have to talk to you?” Then impossibly close as his warm breath pans over the expanse of your face, “What’d I say about the attitude?”

“I don’t care what you say about it.” Your face is squished against his palm as you go to squirm your way out of his hold, but with the way his head angles down toward your face— you can barely get the words to sound convincing. There’s a giggle in your voice, like you think his frustration is amusing.“You like it, don’t you? Forget strange, you’re dirty!”

He’s the only thing keeping you upright, eyes narrowed and lidded, “Stop fuckin’ playing with me, little boy.”

“Dad never lets me drive the boat,” Though the man can sense your whining from miles away, it still manages to catch him off guard. Shouta quirks a brow in questioning, hand hovering a polite foot away from your calf as you stand to walk along the wading boat floor. “Destroyed his last one when I was a kid,” (He doesn’t have to know you were actually nineteen when you did.) You speak in a tone that makes him think just maybe you consider it more your father’s fault than your own. “This one’s nicer anyway.”

“That’s wasteful.” Aizawa bites the inside of his cheek, brows furrowed into a familiar line. Had one of his kids done that it’d be a completely different story. Surely one they wouldn’t be proud of telling either. Through the corner of his eye he watches you dig into the cooler, scrabbling past the beer bottles and iced hennessy, to pull out an ice cream.

“To you,” You spare him a glance before finally plopping down in the passenger’s seat with much more force than necessary— especially when sitting on a boat. “I did him a favor.”

The cooler did a poor job— your ice cream is already melted and soft once it’s unwrapped. Thick, velvety cream that you lap up with your tongue dribbles down your knuckles. He should find it gross, but your pretty eyes flickering upward to meet his own as you take one long, slow lick up each bend of your fingers has done the complete opposite. Fuck. It’s hot— your sticky fingers and messy lips, your pinched brows and tiny, pleased whines.

If only it were his cock.

Shouta’s thick. Much thicker than your ice cream, he’s sure you’d feel a good stretch to your lips if you wrapped them around the head of his cock. You’d probably whine about how hard you have to try, how heavy it is on your tongue— how much it’s stuffing you full when it hasn’t even slid down your throat yet. You’d cry too, maybe, with drool slicking your chin and coating his dick in a pretty, shiny layer of thick saliva.

“Want some?” You lean uncomfortably forward, though your legs are over the arms of your seat and draped across Shouta’s lap. Already close, Shouta can smell the oreo on your tongue and vanilla cream by the corner of your lips. “You’re staring pretty hard.”

“Sit up,” The deflection is an answer in itself, yet the dark-haired man can’t find a reason to look away. “Before you hurt yourself.”

Instead, you take his wrist, thick and decorated with a long vein, to fiddle with his fingers. They’re long— healthy, strong, clipped haphazardly— big. He watches you split his fingers apart, lacing your free hand with his own— and though he remains with all five fingers up, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel the urge to close them around your much smaller ones. Shouta clears his throat while you hum, lapping at your ice cream before pressing your lips against his knuckles, “Want you to hurt me instead.”

“Hush,” There’s a sharp intake of breath, dark lashes fluttering as multicolored eyes glance past your shoulder. It’s evident he wants to say more— in the way he shifts his weight to lean outward. “You hardly know me.”

Your foot nudges his upper thigh, pressing into the firm skin as the boat moves further toward the horizon. It feels more secluded that way.. Private, even. As if there’s only the two of you left on the dreamy island. Your face looks a bit exasperated, like you’ve never had to work so hard in your life, and he has to admit it— it’s cute.

“I know you grew up with my dad,” He ignores the venom behind your tongue as you mention your father, letting out a low hum of confirmation. “I know you have two kids— adopted, right?”

“Hitoshi and Eri.” He interjects, voice soft and fond. You’d never noticed it before, but now you’re acutely aware of the gentle presence of breeze and rippling waters. Shouta’s relaxed face is much sweeter, still creased with age but not quite as deep. The cute, pinched dips between his brows are gone, but you know how to bring it back.

“Lucky. Wish you were my Daddy instead,” Aizawa isn’t sure which word he���s more hung up on, nor how it's so easy for you to completely twist his words— but as much as it rushes to his cock, gets him twitching in his pants and throbbing all the way down his heavy shaft— he doesn’t like it. You talk entirely too much. With lips much too sweet and sheen with cream. With a tongue that flicks and presses against your teeth when you smile. With a pretty voice he could listen to, all day. Something that’d sound better through choking and gagging—ragged and crackly and used. Your lashes flutter, soft and gentle against your cheek. “How old is Hitoshi? My age? If he takes after you, then. . .You’re just—“

“Listen to me,” Perhaps it’s not very characteristic of him, but he just can’t stop. Shouta moves without thinking, pressing his fingers into your cheeks until your lips are puckered. “For as long as I’m here,” he offers a squeeze. “For as long as your father is here,” then another, “Turn. It. Off.”

Your face melts into something floaty and distant, the smirk melting right off your face into something much more preferable. His thumb is so close, so close to your pretty lips. You blink once— twice, even— before regressing back into a grin, lips pressing against his long fingers. Fucking brat.

“I’ll just have to hit up Hitoshi sometime, then.”

The persistent comment nearly knocks him over, straight off the boat and plummeting into the cerulean depths of the sea. Instead, Shouta finds it better to step on the gas. . . To ignore the prickling heat in his blood, to ignore the easy taptaptap-ing of your fingers against the screen of your phone. It’s so easy for you to say anything around him— like a deliberate disregard for his reaction. His fingers thrum against the tiller, then wrap around its leather exterior to squeeze, and he doesn’t miss (not even for a second) the glance you give him through the corner of your eye.

The silence is almost painful. The motor speaks for you, loud and rushed and heavy. Aizawa’s jaw sets, clenched at each chiseled edge. His eyebrows furrow deep, angry, and his lips remain tightly shut. You can’t help but stare, watching his hair whip in the wind, dreamy and mellifluous. Not a moment of eye contact is shared, and you feel yourself slinking back into the white leather of your chair for the first time this evening.

Come the wooden dock just adjacent to the shoreline, Shouta’s throwing away wrappers (they’re all yours) and unbuckling his seatbelt. Your arms cross, a pout heavy in your lips as your eyes flutter closed. . Almost as if you being unable to see him makes him unable to see you.

“C’mon, baby.” You both miss the nickname, and despite the tension, it feels so natural dripping from his tongue.

Still, you whine. Mind occupied by your nearly offset tantrum prior to getting back at the dock. “I’m staying outside.”

“You’ll get heatstroke.” Shouta sighs, stepping back to lift you into his arms not even a moment later. You consider it ironic, for a moment, he always wears black despite the scorching heat. Bent at the waist as he leans over the open inside of the boat to unbuckle your seatbelt, his face remains stoic as your arms flail and fly to push him away. Your pretty face morphs into a nasty scowl, grumbles and mumbles toppling from your lips— you’re embarrassed.

He sets you down on the creaking wood, hands placed steady at your waist and shoulder to keep you upright— in your feeble attempt at escapism, your last result was simply going limp.

You just won’t budge, standing planted at the end of the dock despite the tugs to your biceps, forearm— hands, wrists. Your last attempt at pushing him away ends up in stumbles, nearly tripping over your own feet as you stomp down the polished dock, eyes hardening with the contact of deep, dark pools in Aizawa’s irises.

You were holding hands.

It’s been days. You haven’t left your room in days. At first, Shouta doesn’t worry. He doesn’t think twice about it, doesn’t question why you don’t come downstairs. When he asks your parents about it it’s always the same thing— ‘That’s just how he is when he doesn’t get his way,’ or ‘He’ll come around.’ The more he asks, the mode suspicion, More questions, mostly wondering why he’s so enamored by their son— even if he had been closer to you when you were younger. But that was long ago, and you hardly remember.

And that isn’t even it.

He starts to worry, to feel bad, on day six. Not a single sound that even points to your presence. No creaking floorboards, no music playing from your old, antique and overpriced record player, no sounds of muffled laughter. It makes him feel out of his skin, like a bystander watching the inhabitants of this very beach house go about their day like nothing is wrong. But this wrong, so very wrong—

He wants you. His boy, his brat, his best friend’s son. It’s wrong and it’s taboo, but so help him, he yearns.

His feet had carried himself upstairs before his mind could, following after you a good half-hour later. You heard him on his way in, the shuffle of his slipper-clad feet from the outside of your door. Still, you’d made no effort to move, no effort to free yourself from the cocoon of your childhood blankets, no effort to open the door despite his gentle knocking.

“You ready to talk yet?” He was willing to brush it all aside. The pushing, the persistent flirting, the slight disregard for his feelings, the mentions of his son. Really, he was jealous. Maybe it’s unsavory for him to admit, maybe he shouldn’t think of his son as competition. And he knows, of course, there’s nothing there— he’s only ever competing with himself. He just can’t help it.

Maybe he’s a bit spoiled too.

“I don’t like being ignored.” Your voice was small, but he could still hear it through the door. He heard it all, every implication. His sweet boy, his spoiled brat. You froze, just briefly, before he let himself in. The door creaked slowly with its open and close, a gentle click of the lock as the air grew thick.

Your old bed is small and creaky. Almost as much as the underused floorboards, your old bedroom screams with just as much personality as it does neglect. There’s tiny figurines, posters, awards, memorabilia— but it’s all too clean. Even if it has collected dust, not a thing is out of place. Pristine. There’s a few scattered photos— awkward haircuts, familial pets, the works. . Unapologetically you, maybe when you were just a tad bit more naive— but you nonetheless. It even smells like you, just with a hint of sea salt and warm, summer-y vanilla. Shouta wants to bury his nose in it.

“None of my fancy college boyfriends liked it here, Maybe ‘Toshi would.” You shift your weight as Shouta sits at the edge of your bed, the springy mattress creaking ever so slightly. There’s something left unsaid between the small string of words— and it’s sour. Twists on Shouta’s tongue, like he’s bitten into old bread, and it’s not just the mention of past boyfriends. Sure, that’s not exactly what he’d call this. . . relationship, but it’s not like it’d feel wrong. And he’d certainly feel bitter if his son were in his shoes. “Guess my sheets weren’t silky enough. Can tell you what was, th—”

“I like it.” It’s simple. The admission— simple and sweet, like it’s obvious. Shouta watches your lips part for a moment, just to close again, like a fish out of water. You look so small when you’re caught off guard, glancing to the side and shifting your weight onto your palms as you sit in the comfy middle of your bed. He knows what you’re doing— redirecting the conversation by flirting (it does get his heart beating, he’ll admit it)— and it makes you seem softer, almost.

He watches you sniffle for a moment, a quiet sound as you shift your knees with exuberating coyness. Your eyebrows furrow, cheeks puffed into a pout because, “That's it? You just ‘ like ’ it?”

He’ll give it to you, you never give up. He’d been warned, he was skeptical, and he’s been proven wrong. And, in the brunette’s head, you’d tallied over three strikes. Perhaps he was being too lenient. And now, Shouta, the weak man that he is, simply wants to indulge.

“What else would I say?”

“That it’s nice,” You cock your head to the side. “That you’ve never seen a room so nice. Which m’sure is true, anyway. . Are you low income, Sho? I can’t imagine what it’s like being a single father of two— or one, since Hitoshi moved out forever ago.”

The older man takes a breath through his nose, and out through his mouth. Pretty irises flicker down to meet the rise and fall of his chest, the way his fingers pinch the bridge of his nose. Then, like the tidal wave of emotion has washed away back into shore, his voice is level as he speaks, “You spoke to him.”

“You ignored me,” You say it as if it’s obvious, simple, that if you can’t have Shouta you’ll have to settle for the next best thing. And though it’s not entirely true, you only really stalked his social media to learn more about his father, you don’t think your heart can stomach seeing pride swell in Aizawa’s chest. “Wanted your attention, Daddy.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath through his teeth, cold air rattling the bones as he watches you stare up at him. Your eyes look softer, boyish, wider at this angle. His pink tongue darts over his equally pink lips, “You don’t know what you do to me.”

“Show me.”

“Shh, sh, sh,” Shouta’s cock slips down your throat with a low grunt, the slippery walls clench around the fat head of his cock. Just as he imagined it, cutting off pretty whines and gasps, head bobbing back and forth— like you can’t tell whether it’s too much or too little. There’s a slight burn— the stretch of his thick, sticky cock nestled against your throat— but it feels good, heavy and throbbing in a way that makes your brain shut off so quickly you drool. It sticks to his shaft and slides down his balls, painting your chin in a syrupy-sweet layer of saliva, but you’re too far gone to wipe it away. Such a good boy.

He must’ve said it aloud, because there you are nodding, lazily bobbing your head as he grinds in and out of your mouth. There’s a loud, sticky sound coming from your throat, squelching and soaked, obscene in a way that makes you whimper around your heavy mouthful of cock. He’s quick to correct himself— you only ever seem to behave when you’re stuffed with his dick, and he can’t have you thinking your behavior is acceptable. With a grunt, deep and velvety, Aizawa pushes deeper into your mouth until you gag— tight throat convulsing and quivering around his shaft.

You slurp loudly, choking and gasping as you struggle to pull back. His balls hit your chin, heavy and sticky and so fucking good as tears stream down your face. You’re starting to get into it now, making a mess of yourself as you stick out your tongue to lick along the prominent vein on the underside of his cock, eyes focused on the rings of saliva holding you together. Shouta pulls out to let you breathe, his cock quickly liding upupup your throat and past your lips until all you can do is whine and lean forward, lips wet with spit as you chase after what you’ve been wanting for the past month.

“Stop fuckin’ moving. Let Daddy use your throat, wanna hear you cry on it,” The bulge of his fat cock shows in your throat, in and out, in and out, in and out.

You want to whine, to beat your fists against his thighs, and kick your feet— it’s all so much. He has you by the hair, big hand pulling and tugging, lifting you on and off his cock like a warm, tight fleshlight. You fail to bite back a growl, though it emits more as a cute, pathetic sound, glassy eyes focused on his cock being shoved down your hot, wet throat. It’s so easy to press your lips against the darkness of his pubes, to smear pre along your pouty lips and cheeks. His cock jumps in your mouth, thick and long and curved, leaking at the tip.

It’s hard to adjust to the stretch, sputtering and gagging with such cute, greedy sounds. You’re getting ahead of yourself, eager, tongue lapping at the achy underside of his dick, pressed against his balls. And, with a gasp, Shouta pulls out, huffs and unintelligible groans filling the air. The blushing head of his cock taps against your cheek. Once, twice, again and again. “C’mere.”

And yet, despite all that bark, your eyes barely make contact with the ones above you. Instead they trace the pulse of his shaft, how heavy his cock hangs between his legs, how it makes his long fingers almost smaller in comparison. The way pre dribbles from the tip, sticky and warm and oh, so inviting. It’s as if he can read your mind, knows how badly you miss the weight of his thick cock stretching your throat, “You can do better than that," and you almost can't believe it.

Better? Your eyes flicker to the saliva dripping from your chin, suddenly aware of the slick pre smeared across your pretty cheeks and the heavy pants leaving your lips. What gets better than this? You let him use your throat like a new fleshlight, cried on his cock and muffled the sounds in his pubes. Ignored the aching of your own cock just to focus on his own, absentmindedly bucking your hips into nothing, even if it made you look like a pathetic puppy. Fine— you can show him better. You can break him first.

You blink rapidly, tears clumped in your pretty eyelashes, lips parting to, indubitably, sass the older man. “What, need help gettin’ it up? Fuck you, can do it m—”

Prideful boy. Shouta will have to fix that.

“— I wasn’t asking.” You really fucked up now, eyes wide as you’re lifted up by your throat and manhandled into Shouta’s strong arms. He smells good, and just as strong, as your face is pressed into his chest and your tiny, tiny shorts are pushed past your thighs. The air is cold, it spreads goosebumps along your skin, and you’re sure Shouta can feel them along his palm as he grabs handfuls of your ass. He ignores your off guard ‘Hey! I wasn’t done!’, ignores the squirm of your waist, ignores your poor, weeping cock.

Being the smooth, calculated man that he is, you’d expect Aizawa to put a rhythm and pace to his spankings. But no, there’s nothing for you to latch onto but the bundles of his hair as he hands out sporadic, random, and hard smacks along each globe of your ass. There is no back and forth, no favoring one over the other— it’s just where he wants, when he wants. If he wants to watch your thighs convulse and jiggle beneath his heavy palm he will, and if he wants to smack your hands away from his wrists as you tug and tug— he will.

Shouta groans when you let out a particularly pathetic cry, biting your lip and whimpering into his warm skin. You can feel his big hands part your cheeks, squeezing the skin until it spills over each finger and your ass has turned tender and sensitive. He coos, feeling you squirm and wriggle against his hold, “S’it too much? Daddy’s poor baby.”

It shouldn’t sound so sweet coming from his lips, even when it’s condescending and rough, even when he’s cracking his palm down again and again despite your kicks and squeals.

But it does.

“Da—ddy. . !” your voice quivers, hips rocking to an uncoordinated tune. So little contact and yet it feels like so much, his hot palms against your warm skin. . . The tears rolling down your darling face. . . The way your cock throbs against your tummy, your mouth aches with emptiness, your hole twitches beneath the weight of his fingers. The thought makes you want to whine all over again, body squirming and trembling as he holds and kneads the flesh of your ass.

“Quiet. I should shove my fingers down your throat to shut you up,” Shouta murmurs, so unnecessarily mean, kissing the dampness of your forehead before his hand cracks down against your plush ass three, four, five more times. You try to keep up your resolve, pretty legs trembling and knuckles clenching— but it’s just so hard. Being a brat is easy— it’s fun— you’ll give up a few tears, cry and pout, get your way. Easy. So you won’t break and give him what he wants. He’ll have to work for it, get a taste of his own mean, mean medicine.

Delayed gratification.

Wet llips open to speak, something smug and almost smart, but it’s reduced to a wet moan. You feel it—fingers spreading apart the globes of your ass, and more cracking down between them, on your empty, pretty little hole. For a moment your brain slips out of your body, thoughts static and turned to mush, fuzzy and convulsing where you lay. You process the sound of hushing, the feeling of wetness, the sound of slick spit against your skin. . . Thick, merciless fingers rubbing and tapping and sliding against you.

“Oh, god,” You sob, eyes fluttering shut and eyebrows pinching the second more pressure builds and— oh, a finger slips inside. “Fingers— that’s, oh god..” Inching in slowly, rubbing against your velvety walls and so fucking slick you’re beginning to see stars. Whatever you had your mind set on earlier flies straight out the window, your brain short circuits as your sopping hole flutters around his fingers, sucking them in.

“Fuck, baby, look at you clench on Daddy’s fingers. Want Daddy to finger-fuck this cute little cunt silly?” If you could see his face you’re sure he’d be smiling— an eerie thing, eyes trained on his fingers getting sucked back into you. Such a needy boy. “C’mon, say it. Tell Daddy you want his big fingers in your sweet, greedy little pussy.”

You can’t help it, hole throbbing rhythmically along his long fingers, squelching and gushing with stickiness. The swell of your ass ripples as you wiggle your hips, rising and falling to grindgrindgrind. “Fuck me already, c’mon, old man.”

“That what your little ‘boyfriends’ do?” Your lip quivers— he hadn't even flinched at the sass— and instead used your own words against you. “Oh, baby. They didn’t give that little boycunt the attention he needed, hm? That why you throw so many tantrums?”

Your hand finds his wrist, fingers wrapping around thick and strong limp just enough to get his hand moving, trying to guide him deeper, faster, harder. He should reward bratty behavior, but the words spill from his mouth almost immediately, “That’s it, just needed something to fill you up, nice and full.”

It’s ironic— he says it just before pulling out his soaked fingers. And, at your nightstand, opens the drawer to retrieve lube. You watch him pause, eyes scanning the contents of the drawer until his lips quirk downward. Lollipop wrappers. An ungodly amount— you really went on a hunger strike because he ignored you? For six whole days?

“What am I gonna do with you.” He sighs, but grabs a sucker regardless, tearing open its pretty, pastel blue packaging to reveal its red, shiny hard candy. He pops the treat into his mouth, holds it on the right side with his teeth, and squirts a generous amount of lube over the globes of your ass. His hands slip and slide as he guides it around, watches it dribble down your thighs and relishes in the way your hole opens up for him, soaked and sticky.

Your eyebrows pinch, hips wiggling as he pulls the lollipop free from his mouth and directs it against your own, “Suck,” He murmurs, but it’s forced past your lips before you can process the demand. Here come more tears, burning your nose as you hiccup out a tiny, overwhelmed, “Daddy?”

“It’s okay, I’m here,” He coos, circling the pad of his thumb along the rim of your hole. Even as your feet instinctively kick, there’s no reaction from him, just a pleased hum. “Keep sucking, atta boy.”

His thumb feels like a lot, makes you squeal and shiver as he presses it inside, and something hot and wet accompanies it. That's good, the heat of his tongue licking and sucking at your throbbing rim, bubbly spit dribbling down his chin and caught in his stubble. One hand is focused on fucking your boyhole raw, till your brain goes numb and you’re incoherent. His palm presses into the small of your ass, tongue working hard until your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, and your mouth flies open in a silent scream. He takes the opportunity to snatch the lollipop back, keeps his tongue pressed against your walls until—

He trails the glossy sphere of the candy down to your sloppy little hole, nudging and prodding until he slowly works the lollipop inside. “You can take it,” He growls, eyes trained on your fucked-out face. He can feel it, the tightening of your balls, the way your hole aches and pulses with the treat inside you. “That’s it, sweet thing. Wanna make this pussy cum, give it t’me. Let Daddy have it..”

He murmurs, and suddenly, instead of the treat that he’s popping back into his mouth, there’s the head of his perfectly thick, so big, cock pressing against your slick, thoroughly fucked-out hole and—

Oh.

“Sweet.”

You sob into nothing, back arching and spongy walls clinging down on Shouta’s cock as it’s worked inch by inch into you and— you can’t fucking believe it. You fought for so long, put on a bratty attitude and stomped your feet. Why would you ever push Shouta and his cock away for so long? Your breaths are short. Tiny little gasps as his large hands grip your ankles, spreading your legs open to get a better view of the thick dick pumping you full. Your pretty little hole, sheen with spit and lube, exposed and on display for him and his cock. And, yeah, this is everything you’ve ever wanted and more. . . You want him to break you.

“You’re— fuck, you’re so gross, Daddy,” Shouta grits his teeth, “Ohh, havin’ your best friend’s son on your fat cock, fuckin’ my pussy so full. . !” You’re straight up babbling, cross-eyed as each thrust knocks coherent thoughts out your brain. A real, proper slut, desperately humping upupup to fuck yourself on his dick. With this position— knees to your ears and holes on display, you barely have the control to move— but it’s cute to watch you try anyway.

“Shut up and take it,” He rasps, voice deep and scratchy in a harsh whisper as his hips snap back and forth. “Don’t want mommy and daddy to hear their son calling someone else daddy, do you?”

“Daddy— Daddy, my pussy—“ You’re babbling, it’s all you can do since Shouta is all force with his thrusts; takes what he needs, feeds you his cock good and so, so deep. Over and over, you let out broken whines, desperate for it, looking down as best you can to watch your own cock bob and jump against your tummy, thighs sticky with spit and lube. You can hear the sound of your slutty, pathetic moans, the wet plaplaplap of skin, lube trailing and frothing between your bodies as Shouta fucks into you. You can’t stop twitching— your legs, your hole, your cock.

“This is Daddy’s pussy,” He corrects, angling his hips just right, the heat of his cock pressing against every special spot you’ve got. Every bundle of nerves, every silky, spongy wall you’ve got wrapped around him. “Just like that,” You’re gagging for it, pouty lips parting with open-mouthed pants as he continues to watch your hole tighten around his thick, veiny cock. He has to swallow down his own drool, reaching deeper into you, your body jerking back as he pounds, and pounds, and pounds. You may not be a good boy, but you’re a damn good slut.

“Uh-huh, uh-huh. . .” Your breath is caught in your throat, and if you could, you’d scream, your body tensing as your cock throbs and bounces, cum spraying across your bare chest — stickiness shooting out your spent cock until you’re twitching, handsfree and body set ablaze. Shouta shows no signs of stopping, instead keeping his cock inside you as he flips you around, eyes narrowed. He fucks you through it, watching more cum squirt from your cock, leaky hole milking him for all he’s got.

“Dumb sluts love cock, baby. S’that what you are?” His voice is a low purr, pressing your face into the mattress, watching your ass fall back onto his cock until he feels himself aching hard, hard enough to start cumming inside you.

“Yeah, mhmm,” You drool into your pillow, absentmindedly fucking yourself back onto him. You’re desperate to chase after it, the searing spiral of pressure growing in your stomach, tight hole bearing down on his cock. “Daddy’s slut, s’me!” For a minute you think you’ve passed out, everything going dark as you ride out his hard thrusts, offering tiny movements of your own, up and down to satiate the erratic spasming of your hole, to feel his balls slap against your thighs.

“Good sluts take Daddy’s cum,” Your eyes, so glassy and empty, is what gets him, groaning loud as he pumps a load inside you. “Take it, boy. Let Daddy knock you up.” It’s messy, and downright pornographic watching his cum leak out of you, just for him to fuck it back in with the head of his dick. Shouta’s cum starts to kiss your insides and spurt straight onto that small bundle of nerves— fuck, it’s so deep. His thrusts are erratic and sloppy, thick rope after thick rope frothing around his shaft as he fucks it deeper inside. You never want it to stop, not the groaning or moaning, not the filthy sounds, not the cum filling up your hole till you can’t move.

He ignores your needy, overstimulated whines when he pulls out completely, his spent cock hanging heavy between his thighs. Even when you’re limp and boneless, body trembling violently, you want more.

“Da— Da—ddy,” You sob, eyes squeezed shut as strong arms pull you up and into even stronger thighs. Sitting on his lap now, Shouta coos hums, basks in the sight of his pretty boy’s afterglow.

“Daddy’s here. I’m here, I got you.” He whispers into your shoulder, and that’s all you need to hear. The thought of his best friend melts away— you’re more than that. You’re not just his best friend’s son. . .

You’re Shouta’s boy.

Summer is coming to an end.

There’s a seasonal chill in the air and it’s getting dark in the early afternoon. The beach has switched its course, currents changing direction and fish disappearing from the shoreline. The weather is turning, branches are starting to grow bare and bloom in color, the wind picks up, and the clouds have yet to dissipate into the sky. . Shouta helps you pack, grumbles when you press chaste kisses against his skin the whole time— shuts down the stomps of your feet while you whine, “I don’t wanna leave.”

“Spring break,” Is all Shouta says, his mismatched eyes downcast in a way that highlights his long, pretty eyelashes. Then, voice barely audible, he whispers, “I don’t want you to, either.”

Your body visibly straightens, giddiness painting your boyish face as you smile wide and big. The older man almost regrets saying it, huffing with you lean impossible close to hug him tight. “Will you call me?”

“Whenever you want,” He says, as if it’s the most simple thing in the world. You watch as he throws your large bag of lollipops into your carry-on backpack, but not before plucking a treat free from the others. “You know I will.”

And that’s all you need to hear.

[deadhands69]

Hi, I'm Jade!

About:

◐ I'm over 18 and you should be too if you're reading most of these ◑ since a huge chunk of my work isn't smut at this point, I'm not blocking minors but pleeeaaassseeee don't read or interact with the smutty ones. It makes me feel ick (then you get blocked.) ◐ For the next few months, I'll be pretty busy trying to get hours to finish the program I'm in but I'll try to write as much as possible!

What I [typically] write:

◐ all are x gn reader unless otherwise noted ◑ jjk and bnha right now

Other blog things:

◐ I crosspost to ao3 sometimes if you prefer to read there: ao3 link ◑ If you'd like to be added to the taglist for anything, let me know in the comments of the post.

info for requests ● masterlist under the cut

fluff = ☁️ smut = ⭐ suggestive = ✨ angst = ⚡

drabble (<.5k) = 🌙 longer (>4k) = 🌕

My Hero Academia

Tomura Shigaraki

Oneshots//Drabbles//Headcannons

Three Words ☁️ Laundry Detergent [loser!shigaraki] ⭐/✨? Candy Cane [loser!shigaraki] ❆⭐/✨? In Your Cold Apartment ⚡ Attention [afab]⭐ Dream Siren [gn] 🌙⭐ Milk Tea [gn][loser!shigaraki] 🌙✨ You Love It When He Relaxes [afab] ⭐ Tomura Shigaraki Helps w/a Sex Quirk pt 1 [afab] ✨ Tomura Shigaraki Helps w/a Sex Quirk pt 2 [afab] ⭐

Cute Dates Series ☁️ All of these exist in the same universe and can be read in nearly any order or as oneshots

Pretty Lights [Picnic]🌙 Bubble Gum & Cotton Candy [Carnival]🌙 Blankets [Blanket Fort/Depression Comfort]

A New End A few years after being kicked out of UA, you find yourself in the LOV. You'd never seen yourself as a villain but everyone is incredibly welcoming. Eventually, even your standoffish boss who you're beginning to see in another light. Will your future vision quirk be able to change what's coming? [gn/afab] [in progress/2 of ??] ☁️ ✨⭐

◐ Intro: Villain Origin ◑ Part 1: The Bet

Katsuki Bakugo

Oneshots//Drabbles//Headcanons

Filling Space ⚡⭐ Writing Fanfics About Him ⭐🌙 Wrapping Gifts Together ❆🌙 Passenger Seat [afab]⭐ A Nice Fantasy with Nice Shoulders [Sex Quirk][afab] 🌕☁️⭐ A Nice Fantasy with Nice Shoulders Follow Up [afab] ☁️⭐

Cute Dates Series [gn]☁️ All of these exist in the same universe and can be read in nearly any order or as oneshots

Ramen & Rain [1st in Series: Ramen Date] Where Kodamas Live [Hiking Date]

Something More Katsuki Bakugo has always made it a point to be your biggest enemy. When you're paired together on a school project, will you learn to tolerate each other (or more???)[afab] [complete] ☁️ ⚡✨⭐

◐ part 1 [more than burns] 🌕 ◑ part 2 [more than a hangover] ◐ part 3 [more than sleep] ◑ part 4 [more than a storm] ◐ part 5 [more than a panic attack] ◑ part 6 [more than an extra] ◐ part 7 [more than each other] ◑ part 8 [more than this] ◐ Epilogue

Dabi

Pictures with You ❆☁️ Harder, Softer, Harder [Sex Quirk] [afab] ⭐ In the Bathroom is Where I Want You [afab] ⭐

Mei Hatsume

Late Night Writing ☁️ Bubblegum ☁️✨

Other

For Sappho [Kyoka Jiro x Reader]⭐ I Never Told You What I Do For A Living [Hitoshi Shinso x Reader]⚡☁️ Under the Christmas Tree [Shouto Todoroki x Reader][afab] ❆⭐ Exhibitionist Request [Shota Aizawa x Reader][afab] ⭐ Plant Store Date Request [Ibara Shiozaki x photography quirk reader] ☁️

Multiple Characters & Headcanons

Speeding Cars [various characters] ⚡ League of Villains Holiday Movie Headcanons ❆ League of Villains Holiday Party Headcanons ❆ League of Villains Holiday Party Aftermath ❆ Flight Headcanons [various characters] Escape Room Headcanons: Class 1-A Escape Room Headcanons: LOV Concert Date Headcanons Luckiest Person in the Room [Katsuki Bakugo x Shouto Todoroki x Reader] [afab] ☁️⭐ League of Villains Halloween Headcanons 👻

Hitching a Ride [Tomura Shigaraki x Reader] [Dabi/Touya Todoroki x Reader] You happen to end up with the perfect getaway ride: jumping in a van with the League of Villains. Destination unknown, you join them on a road trip filled with romantic tension, awkward tropes, and, of course, some light crimes. Separate Dabi/Shig routes. [in progress]☁️ ✨

◐ Intro

Jujutsu Kaisen

Toge Inumaki

Oneshots//Drabbles//Headcanons

Post Shibuya Comfort [gn] ☁️ ✨ The Safe Word is Okaka [afab] ⭐

Cursing Each Other Over and Over Again After a life of cursing people on accident with your technique, you end up at Jujutsu University where you meet another cursed speech user. A cute one. Will he understand or treat you like everyone else has? [afab in part 3] [complete] ☁️ ✨⭐

◐ part 1 ◑ part 2 ◐ part 3

Suguru Geto

Oneshots//Drabbles//Headcanons

Good Morning ⭐🌙

Satoru Gojo

Oneshots//Drabbles//Headcanons

Wishing Well ⚡🌙

Yuta Okkotsu

Oneshots//Drabbles//Headcanons

bff!Yuta ☁️ bff!Yuya 2 [gn] ☁️ ⭐ bff!Yuta 3 [gn/reader is bottom] ☁️ ⭐

Multiple Characters & Headcanons

White Elephant ❆ Flight Headcanons

[di-in-al]

~Drifting Into Desire~ Katsuki Bakugou x Reader PART I

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After studying abroad in America, Y/N returns to Japan with big dreams and a degree in hand, only to find herself struggling to meet societal expectations. Pushed too far by her uncle Aizawa, she becomes entangled in the thrilling yet dangerous world of street racing, battling her own aspirations and rivalries. Particularly her rivalry with the King of Musutafu Pass, Katsuki Bakugou.

>Bakugou x Reader, Shinso x Reader

>Warnings: Profanity. Implied sex. Sexual themes. Smoking.

>Word Count: 2.7k.

>A/N: Hi! I've had this idea for a while. It's lightly based off of the anime Initial D, with our fav MHA characters. I'm planning on making this a series, so I hope you stick around for the ride!

>Tags: 18+ only + future smut: minors and empty blogs DNI + all characters are over the age of 21 + 1990's themed (No quirks) + repost + reader insert

~~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~~~

As the sweltering heat of summer began to wane, a refreshing chill hovered in the air, whispering promises of change. The whispers flew past your ears, picking up loose strands of hair and dancing with them. The drop top to your car has been tossed back, allowing you to see the changing leaves as they fall into the reckless abandon that is Musutafu Pass. A location renowned for its breathtaking vistas and winding roads that seemed to twirl gracefully around the mountain itself. 

As you navigated through winding rural roads, you felt the warm embrace of late summer still lingering around you, but as you ascended, the atmosphere shifted. Cool air swept in, wrapping around you like a soft blanket. It was a gentle reminder that the exuberance of summer was drawing to a close, making room for the crisp vitality of autumn.

Musutafu Pass is famous for its spiraling descent, a serpentine route that captures the thrill of driving while offering eye-popping views. The road twists and turns, encasing the mountain, each bend revealing a new perspective of the natural beauty surrounding it. This enchanting drive is not just a means of getting from point A to point B; it is an experience that invites you to become one with the landscape. This fact grabbed the interest of a certain group of people.

Street Racers.

As you reached the base of Musutafu Pass, the sun began its slow descent, determined to rest its eyes for the day. You accelerated with eagerness, your heart beating in rhythm with the car’s engine. The drive up the mountain brought forth a sense of childlike excitement, reminiscent of road trips taken in the blissful days of youth. Each turn felt exhilarating as the sprawling hillsides moved closer and the golden leaves began their transformation, shifting from deep greens to vibrant shades of orange, red, and yellow.

Along the way, you paused to absorb the views. Each glance outward revealed a canvas painted by nature, where the late afternoon sun highlighted the rugged terrain. The mountains stood proud, their craggy peaks contrasting sharply against the fiery hues of fall foliage. The air felt electric, teeming with anticipation as the landscapes shimmered in the waning light of the day.

It was a moment of serenity amidst an ever-busy world—a chance to breathe in the crisp mountain air while allowing nature’s beauty to captivate your senses. You took in the sounds around you: the rustling of leaves, the loud hum of your exhaust, and the gentle breeze dancing through the trees. Time seemed to stretch, inviting reflection on the passing seasons and their significance.

As you ascended further, the shadows grew longer and the chill in the air deepened. You felt the need to reach the summit quickly, not just to catch the views, but to relish the changing of the guard from summer to fall in this picturesque paradise. You accelerated slightly, eager to witness the breathtaking panorama that awaited you.

Upon reaching the top, you were rewarded for your journey. The expansive view opened up, revealing a majestic landscape of undulating hills and valleys, now cloaked in the warm colors of autumn. The setting sun hung low on the horizon, casting a golden glow that illuminated the spectacular transformation of the world below.

The hum of the engine faded to silence as you turned off the ignition, an intimate moment of calm before the chaos that always surrounded your passion. With a steady hand, you pulled the e-brake, feeling the weight of the car resting securely on the side of the mountain road. You stepped out, the cool air wrapping around you like a familiar old coat, both comforting and chilling. Your heart raced in tune with the memories of asphalt and adrenaline that flooded your mind.

A year had passed since you returned to Japan from America, where the rhythm of lectures and study halls echoed in your head like a forgotten melody. You had aimed to seize your life, to transform the dreams that danced just out of reach into a tangible reality. But the moment you set foot back on Japanese soil, the thrill of the classroom quickly faded, replaced instead by the weight of your uncle Shota’s expectations. 

Pulling a pack of cigarettes from your pocket, you ignited a flame, watching the red glow travel towards the burning tip with a sense of both resignation and rebellion. With each puff, you let the bitter smoke swirl around you, consuming the fears that danced at the corners of your mind. The ashes drifted away, disappearing into the abyss below, just like the plans you’d made for your future. 

Shota had questioned you relentlessly since your return. “When will you use that fancy education to get a real job?” he would ask. His voice bore the burden of disappointment, a reminder of every underachieving day spent behind the counter of a coffee shop rather than on the racetrack where you longed to be. To him, success had a defined shape—one of stability and societal approval. To you, it manifested in the rapid consumption of fuel and the roar of engines translating raw potential into sheer power. 

Yet despite the ticking clock of responsibility, your mind remained quenched by only one pursuit: racing. The siren call of the open road was an irresistible temptation—a seductive promise of freedom. It was the rush of drifting around corners, the exhilaration of overtaking competitors, and the sweet taste of victory that gnawed at you like a relentless itch. Racing wasn’t merely a passion; it was the cure for the noisome thoughts that crowded your brain. 

You stood at the edge of that mountain, gazing down the winding road that curled like a snake through the lush green valley. This was where it all happened. The thrill of racing wasn’t lost to memory; it pulsed within you. All of your thoughts converged here, each day propelling you closer to the moment when you could reintegrate your life and racing as one. 

But how?

When the roar of an engine beckoned you like a lover calling your name in the night. 

Your heart raced as you felt the weight of time pressing upon you. You took one last drag of your cigarette and flicked the glowing ember over the cliffside—a symbolic gesture of letting go of the ashes of expectations. You could stand still and succumb to your uncle’s pressure, or you could dare to awaken the engine of your soul. 

The choice danced in your mind like the tires that would soon grip the pavement. You took a deep breath, filled your lungs with the cold air infused with the scent of adventure, and exhaled the burdens of yesterday. 

With renewed resolve, you climbed back into your car, the familiarity of the leather seats embracing you as the engine roared back to life. The world outside thrummed against the cage of metal and glass, but within, your spirit soared. 

As you merged onto the winding road, a smile crept onto your lips. The race wasn’t just a distant dream but a promise to yourself. It was time to find your place in the world—one drift, one acceleration at a time. Everything else would have to wait; the siren song of racing was calling once again, and this time, you were ready to answer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your pop up headlights whirred as they closed, causing a small grin to take over your face. The air had chilled even more, nipping at your cheeks as you made your way to the stairs up to your apartment. With a look over your shoulder, you noticed your roommate's car parked. Momo was probably long asleep by this point, her strict schedule having a death grip on her. 

You ascended the stairs, fumbling your keys to find the correct one. Unlocking the door, it swings open, surprising you with light flooding through. You step in, removing your shoes and replacing them with slippers. 

Momo must still be up.

As if she heard you, she comes around the corner from her room. Her dark hair cascaded down her back, and she peered at you with relaxed eyes. 

“You were out late. Running the pass?” She could read you like the back of her hand. 

The two of you had been best friends since grade school. By each other’s side until college approached. She attended UA University here in Mustafu, while you went abroad. 

“Yeah.” Was your quick response, and as you walked by, she scrunched her nose with disgust. 

“And obviously smoking cigarettes again.” With a scoff, she turns and retreats back to her room. You only gave a small chuckle as you stripped your jacket and hung it up. 

“It’s called an addiction for a reason.” She returns with a disgruntled look on her face, tossing a stack of papers in your direction. 

“Yeah, well, those can be broken,” She flipped through a couple pages before directing your attention to some models. “Here’s the modules you asked for. We can go out tomorrow and run them, see if they’re any good.” 

The two of you belonged to a street racing team known as Impact Velocity. IV for short.

A newer group, you guys just came together a little under a year ago. You decided to take a year to work on every dynamic before taking to the streets. 

“Once we're done, we should have a group meeting. I think we're close to being able to race.” You gave her a nod, and with that, she returned to her room. 

“Get some rest, Y/N. You look like you haven’t had a decent night’s sleep since you came back.” Her motherly tone caused you to roll your eyes, and nod your head. 

“Thanks, mom. That’s a great morale boost.” Her chuckle floated through the air as her door clicked close. Taking a peek at the pile of papers in front of you, your eyes began to throb. A migraine was starting to form behind your eyes, and you took that as a sign to meander your way to the shower. 

The bathroom filled with steam as the water poured from the spout, the mirror reflecting an image of you undressing. Pulling your hair out of the confines of a claw clip, you brushed through it a couple times. Entering the hot shower, you hoped it would wash away the agonizing feeling of being in a constant tug of war with your own mind. 

It didn’t, but you hoped some shut eye might help. Reaching your room, you towel dried your hair as you pressed play on the voicemail, it shining bright with the number one. 

“Hey, it’s me.” Shinso. You threw the towel in the dirty clothes basket, and snatched up your pack of cigarettes. Waiting on him to continue, your feet pad over to the balcony attached to your room. 

“I haven’t seen you in a couple days, and I was… thinking about you today. If you are free tonight, I could swing by. Lemme know.” With that, the machine beeps and erases the message. The lit cigarette in your hand burned with each puff, the smoke swirling around and thankfully away from Momo’s room. 

Hmm. Hopping up on the balcony rail, your feet dangle in the cool breeze. You contemplate Shinso’s offer, knowing there was more behind his words than what the voicemail led on. 

He’d been a student of your Uncle’s, often coming over to the shared house of you and your uncle to study. You’d moved in with him while you got back on your feet, and had the chance to meet Shinso. He’d been timid at first, but eventually the two of you realized you had more in common than originally thought. He was a racer as well, a fact that was hidden to your uncle. 

Things quickly changed into something more. The two of you sneakily meeting up late at night and taking out frustrations on one another. Things didn’t change once you moved in with Momo, not wanting her to know about two teammates being intimate behind closed doors. You contemplated the voicemail, knowing you shouldn’t.

You finished your cigarette, tossing it and making your way back inside. You picked up the phone, dialing a familiar number. 

It rang once, then twice before it was picked up. 

“Hey, you.” Shinso’s husky voice answered the other end, and it sent a warm feeling straight to your core. Your cheeks heated up, and you tried to suppress the grin taking over your face. 

“Hey, you wanna head over?” Your voice seemed strong, even with your crumbling resolve. A chuckle rang out from the other end, and that only sped up your demise. 

“You know, you make me feel like a piece of meat when you get straight to the point like that. Shame on you.” On the other end, you could hear his car start up, almost as if he was waiting for your call.

His comment made you scoff, with a smile.

“You called me first!” You hush yelled, not wanting to alarm your ever watchful roommate. 

“I’m fucking with you, sweetheart. I’m on my way.” You let out a small ‘kay’, and hung up. Putting the phone back on the holder, you walked over to your bed and sunk down on it. Picking up your current read from your bedside table, you read to pass the time.

You could hear his Nissan 180sx from a mile away, but he was always careful to coast in neutral as he pulled up. You peeked out, watching as he silently exited his lavender colored car, tucking his keys away. He ran a strong hand through his half up purple locks, pushing pieces that had escaped out of his eyes. 

Climbing up a vine covered trellis, he landed on your balcony with a thud. His lavender eyes met yours, and a wicked grin crept up his face. 

“Lemme bum a smoke.” He asked, not taking a step into your room yet. Your eyes rolled back, leaning forward and setting your book down. 

“And you say I’m the one that uses you..” Your fingers pulled back the top of your cigarette pack, extending it towards him. He leaned forward, both hands on the balcony railing, and snagged one with his lips. He watched as you flipped open your zippo, and ignited it with a quick flick. You protected the flame from the harsh breeze with a cupped hand. His lazy eyes stayed latched onto your face as he puffed the cigarette to life. Leaning back, he peeled his eyes away from you and onto the city in the distance. 

“We gonna race soon?” Smoked flowed with his words, and you nodded. 

“Give it a couple weeks and I think we’ll be good to go. I need you to take a look into the Miata for me. Momo came up with a couple modules for me, and I think I’m gonna need some things tuned to fit.” He nodded his head, turning in your direction. A moment of silence passed as you tried to wrangle your fleeting thoughts. 

“What’s on your mind? I can hear your intruding thoughts from here.” You shook your head, and looked away. 

“Same old, same old.” You didn’t care to elaborate, him already having heard the tirelessly plaguing thoughts you always had. 

Fingers grasped your chin, turning towards him. His heavy lidded eyes peered down his nose at you, rubbing the pad of his thumb against your bottom lip. He coerced your jaw open, taking a long drag from the cigarette elegantly trapped between his pale fingers. 

Leaning forward, he exhaled smoke into your mouth, the nicotine sending your mind ablaze. His lips followed the smoke, carefully grazing your open lips. 

“Lemme help you forget it then, sweetheart.”

part II

~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: If you got this far, thanks! This was very wordy I know, but there's gonna be more interactions from this point forward. I'm hoping to update every Sunday night!

di-in-al <3

[ryder-writes]

Masterlist :]

Fandoms I write for: Mha (💥), Pokémon (🌺), YuuriVoice (🍬), Purpleverse (🪓)

Fics:

💥 Those Who Play with Fire Get Burnt- Dabi x GN!Reader (Angst)

💥 Dad!Bakugo x GN!Reader (Fluff)

💥 Healing Your Wounds- Fantasy!Kiribaku x GN!Reader (Angst to Comfort/Fluff)

🌺 Making Your Relationship Public- Leon (Pokémon) x GN!Reader (Fluff)

🪓 A Small Road Trip Stop- Tate Frost (Frostbite) x GN!Reader (Fluff, Ig? Idk)

💥 Your Daughter is Getting Bullied- Dad!Kiribaku x GN!Reader (Angst/Fluff)

💥 After the Dinner- Natuso Todoroki x GN!Reader (Reverse Comfort)

💥 Baking Soda- Aizawa x GN!Reader (Fluff) (Kinda Reverse Comfort)

💥 A Birthday Proposal- Kirishima x GN!Reader (Fluff)

💥 A Special Surprise- Dilf!Kirishima x GN!Reader (Fluff) (Smut)

🍬 Just Relax, Love- Auron (YuuriVoice) x GN!Reader (Reverse Comfort) (Smut?)

🍬 Period Cramps- Lucien (YuuriVoice) x GN!Reader (Comfort) (Fluff)

💥 Good Boy- Kirishima x Male!Reader (Smut)

Drabbles:

💥 Hawks Comes Home (GN!Reader) (Fluff)

💥 Midoriya Realizing he has a Crush on You (GN!Reader) (Fluff)

💥 You Ask Denki for Comfort (GN!Reader) (Comfort)

💥 Early Morning with Tensei (GN!Reader) (Fluff)

💥 You and Kirishima's Daughter Wakes You Up (Fluff)

🌺 Raihan Forgets Your Date (GN!Reader) (Angst- good ending)

💥 A Morning with Dilf!Kirishima (GN!Reader) (Fluff)

💥 Afternoon Summer Fun with Mirio (GN!Reader) (Fluff)

💥You and Kirishima's Rottweiler, Riot (GN!Reader) (Fluff)

Headcannons:

💥 Fantasy!Kirishima acting like Toothless

💥 Dilf!Kirishima

[zenphiaaa]

Dance Again (Shinsou Hitoshi)

Shinsou x Gen!Reader Long Distance Relationship AU

<> The two of you met during your second year of high school

<> You manged to get a spot in a transfer program that would last six months before returning to your country

<> It was designed to better teach other heroes from around the world on new or improved ways of fighting villians

<> Shinsou got transfered into the hero class with you being in class 1A and him being in class 1B

<> Despite being in different classes, you were staying with Aizawa-sensei for the entirety of the trip

<> And Shinsou was staying with him for undisclosed reasons

<> You had a feeling but felt like it was rude to ask

<> Either way the two of you grew close over the those six months

<> Which resulted in feelings development in and being confessed to one another

<> A bittersweet moment as you both knew, you couldn't stay phycially together for long

<> After a long talk the two of you decided that you would be willing to try out a long distance relationship

<> It would be hard but it will also be worth it down the road

<> Cat Cafe dates, Going to the library on the weekends to study together, and having late night walks to the conveince store when Shinsou couldn't sleep. Even cuddling after a particlarly bad day of training

<> The two of you spent four months in the honeymoon bliss before you had to leave

<> That day was full of tears as well as promises

<> The two of you spent four months as a couple before doing long distance. And after two years, you were finally coming back to spend your break with him

<> You were unsure of what to do next in yourlife, whether you would stay in his country or your own was something that plagued your mind the last few days before going on the trip

<> You decided to stop thinking about it and just enjoy the moment

Shinsou wiped his sweaty hands over his jeans and he fiddled with the flowers in his hand. He was waiting at the airport, eyes hyper fouced on your flight on the screen. Only two more minutes until you landed and were offically on Japan soil. Offically closer to him, within distance. He felt butterflies fill his stomach as he shuffled his legs as a way to release all the nervous engery.

Shinsou took in a deep breath as your flight was now only seconds away from landing. He checked his breath and hair one more time before walking over to the gate. He wnated to be the first person you saw as you walked into the airport. He wanted to be the one who greeted you at the gate. (And if he had to lie to the others about having your flight delayed so he could be the first one to welcome you back, well he wouldn't tell anyone.) The tall male started to bounce on his feet as the doors opened and people came pouring in from the flight.

Almost immediately he saw your frame pulling a huge luggage behind you. Shinsou smiled softly as you scrunched up your nose at the weight of your bag. You were so cute. Without blinking, his feet started to make their way over to where you stood. A dopey smiled graced his lips as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and dipped his face closer to yours.

Shinsou felt you freeze up before gently meltinh into his arms once you reliazed who was holding you. Shinsou gave you a soft smiled before pressing a soft kiss against the corner of your mouth.

"Welcome back."

While the two of you definitely needed to talk some things through about the future, your feelings were perfectly matched up during this moment. It made you want to melt with love.

[nykie-love-anime]

June Fluffy Prompts

This is my 30 Day Writing Challenge

Day 1 ~ Coffee Shop Au Aizawa x Female!Reader

Day 2 ~ First Meeting Fanboy x Mitchell!Reader

Day 3 ~ College Au Bakugou x Female!Reader

Day 4 ~ Sharing A Bed Bob x Female!Reader Headcanons

Day 5 ~ Celebration Cyclone x Mitchell!Reader

Day 6 ~ Adopting A Pet Steve x Female!Reader

Day 7 ~ Gardening Shigaraki x Female!Reader

Day 8 ~ Stuck Together Dabi x Female!Reader

Day 9 ~ Kisses Hawks x Female!Reader Headcanons

Day 10 ~ Promises Aizawa x Female!Reader

Day 11 ~ Clothes Part 1 Various Rick & Morty Characters x Reader

Day 12 ~ Clothes Part 2 Jake x Female!Reader Bradley x Female!Reader

Day 13 ~ Dancing Izuku x Wife!Reader

Day 14 ~ Gifting Something Cute / Dumb Kirishima x Female!Reader

Day 15 ~ “You Play The Piano So Well.” Bradley x Female!Reader

Day 16 ~ “I’ll Keep You Safe I Promise.” Bradley x Daughter!Reader

Day 17 ~ Breakfast In Bed Bucky x Rogers!Reader

Day 18 ~ Road Trip Karasuno x Male!Reader Headcanons

Day 19 ~ Attention Phoenix x Female!Reader

Day 20 ~ “Just Pretend To Be My Date.” Kuroo x Female!Reader

Day 21 ~ Caught In The Rain Daichi x Female!Reader Headcanons

Day 22 ~ “Your Hair Is So Soft.” Kenma x Male!Reader Headcanons

Day 23 ~ Flowers Pete x Daughter!Reader

Day 24 ~ Sharing Blankets BakuDeku x Bakugou!Female!Reader

Day 25 ~ Reading In Bed Iceman x Male!Reader

Day 26 ~ Love Notes Hizashi x Female!Reader

Day 27 ~ Reunion Jake x Female!Reader

Day 28 ~ Pet Names Texting SMAU

Haikyuu My Hero Academia

Day 29 ~ Late Night Date Javy x Female!Reader

Day 30 ~ Desserts Shinsou x Gn!Reader

So my last post for June Fluffy Prompts was just posted. I cannot believe a month went by that quickly. I would just like to thank everyone who read my fics. Thank you for the likes, reblogs and comments I really, really appreciate every one of you guys.

[trashland-llamas]

-> Fic Masterlist <- (Fandoms A-G | Fandoms H-Z)

Across the Spiderverse

Such Beautiful Creatures; Hobie takes Tempest on a trip to an aquarium in attempts to get zhem out of zheir grief filled head

Marked; Miguel tattooing fang marks into Reader’s skin as a form of ownership [GN]

Look-alike; Miguel asks Tempest to tell him stories about zheir mentor Web-slinger as zhey joined the Spider Society a few weeks after zheir canon event

Workaholic; Miguel and Viktor take care of Reader after discovering they've overworked themselves into exhaustion [GN]

Shared Mannerisms; Mannerisms that Tempest & Webslinger share

Canon Event; Tempest experiences zheir canon event. Or where Webslinger dies in front of zheir eyes.

Intro + Relationships; Intro for my Spidersona Tempest

Alice 19th

At the Thrift Shop Down the Road; Kyou takes the reader thrift shopping [GN]

Baldur's Gate

Shrek; Astarion gets compared to Shrek [GN]

Exsanguination; Astarion rescues reader from being the tavern's residential blood bag [Fem]

I'll Stay; Reader decides to stay with Astarion instead of returning to the tavern. Astarion then takes her to meet the rest of the Baldur's Gate crew after going to pick up her last paycheck. Sequel to Exsanguination [Fem]

Pulse Points; Reader confuses Astarion with how he gives physical affection. In that they like to nuzzle his neck, but Astarion doesn't have a pulse? [GN]

BNHA

Opposites Attract; Eraserjokemic headcanons based around the TikTok trend where you show pictures of you and a best friend/partner & it’s usually opposites. Like sunshine, sunshine protector for example.

Neko; Hizashi offers the neighborhood stray shelter during the storm. Or where the neighborhood stray ends up being a Neko named Aizawa

Insulin; Aizawa helps Eri check her blood sugar after lunch

La Da Dee; Eijirou Kirishima x Reader + Music HCs [GN]

I Think We're Alone Now; Katsuki, Eijirou & Izuku x reader (separately) fall asleep on you [GN]

Like Riding a Bike; Reader teaches Hawks how to ride a bike after learning the commission never taught him [GN]

Memento Mori; Shigaraki’s quirk + suicidal reader. Spoiler; he refuses to use it on them. 'Was the door still open? Or had time finally decided to close it in on them?'

Neko Traits; Neko traits Aizawa displays in his human form

Buzzfeed Unsolved/Watcher

Shyan Brotp headcanons

Call of Duty

Bookworm; Team 141 listening to civilian! Reader go through their library haul [GN]

The Missile is Eepy; Team 141 x gn reader’s sleeping positions [GN]

Blood Lust; Vamp! reader begs Price for blood [GN]

Leave Me to Dream; Gaz and Soap find Reader in a catatonic state and are instructed to get Price [Fem]

Everything’s a Mess; Price gets y/n to talk about what caused faer catatonic episode. Sequel to Leave Me to Dream. [Fem]

Snap, Crackle, Pop; Price discovers Reader has crepitus, conversation ensues [GN]

Boo Boo; Soap interacting w/ kids

Howdy; How y/n meets Soap, Ghost, & Gaz (separately) as inspired by selected country songs

Blood of the Covenant; Soap comforts Ghost over the anniversary of his father’s death

Appa; Soap takes care of regressed reader while waiting for Ghost to come home from leave [GN]

Johnny Boy; Reader refuses to call Johnny “John” [GN]

Everybody Talks; 'People are going to start spreading rumors if you keep greeting me like this.' 'Too late for that dearie! They already whisper rumors about us.' [Fem]

Hot Summer Day; Keegan & y/n troll Ghost w/ sweet tea [GN]

How Was Your Day?; Sexy times get interrupted when Reader checks in with König, ends up w/ König rambling about his day [Gn]

You Must Be in Pain; Reader’s too tired to get off; the alpha in König tells him to do something about it [Fem]

Age Regressor! König

Did You Have Fun?; Gaz and Reader go hiking, in a fluffy date type of way [GN]

Sleep Drunk; Where y/n has never been good at waking up in the morning…or Gaz discovers this and tries to help [GN]

ASMR; Gaz returns from a mission, finding y/n had fallen asleep to asmr…Or y/n wakes up to a welcomed surprise of Gaz in their bed [GN]

Floor Time?; Gaz joins reader for floor time, and distracts them from their scoliosis pain [GN]

Tangled Bedsheets; Simon discovers Reader has some childhood trauma around making the bed, resulting in hyper-independence. Ends up comforting her over it. [Fem]

Balaclava; Reader's plans to knit Simon a balaclava for his birthday might or might not involve a little bit of thievery [GN]

Let Me Help; Simon helps Reader get off [Fem]

Ghost Headcanons

Accidents Happen; Reader gets into a fender bender and calls his dad Simon afterwards [Male]

Camp Here and There

Yes Chef; Headcanons about Matthew Napoleon

Chuckle Sandwich

Acts of affection I associate w/ Chuckle Sandwich

'do you know Schlinx is fucking dead?'

Slime boy make Sensory Issues go brrr [GN]

Wed-nes-day; Ted Nivison x Reader w/ a speech impediment

Hold on to this Lullaby; Ted makes reader's bed after finding out they've been hiding their stuffed animals [GN]

Criminal Minds

Enter Sandman; Headcanons about Spencer checking out his local music scene

DCU

Body Pillow; Jason after returning home from patrol, finds Reader asleep, wrapped around a body pillow [GN]

Budding Romance; A patched together songfic + Jason Todd x Reader + grumpy x sunshine trope if you squint [GN]

Fear Factor; The Teen Titan crew try figuring out y/n's greatest fear when Jason lets it known that they're afraid of moths. Or a fic mostly revolving around Gru shifting into a moth at y/n's expense [GN]

All These Tatties; Author rambles about Jason going to tattoo artist! Reader [GN]

Ginger!?; Reader discovers Jason used to be a redhead after Alfred shows them the family photo albums [GN]

Leakage; Jason who is in the closet when it comes to being trans experiences the misfortune of bleeding through his pants at a gala

Fork in the Road; Reader navigates the subways/trains of Gotham with the Batfam shadowing them [GN]

Pillowy; Jason is enamored by plus size! Reader’s stomach [GN]

Fish Out of Water; the bats take Reader to a fancy restaurant, it doesn't go well [GN]

Neck of the Woods; Reader and Jason go on a mini hike which causes Reader's disability to flare up [GN]

I don't wanna take that step, I just want you to stay; Dick finds out that Reader identifies as loveless aromantic after his attempt to kiss them goes sideways [GN]

Red Marks; Jason sees some angry red marks on Reader's stomach, caused by their pants while they're getting ready for bed and ends up asking about it [GN]

Pollen; Dialogue about Jason getting hit with pollen that makes him overly emotional

Rude Awakening; Reader sneaks into Dick's apartment after not hearing from him for a few days. After almost being hit by a batarang, they stay and the two have breakfast for lunch [GN]

Squib Load; Jason, tired of the dance between Bruce and the Joker, kills his “father”

Demon Slayer

Hanahaki; Nezuko develops Hanahaki and goes to y/n as to ask them to euthanize her [GN]

Disney Movies

hair of gold and a neck of pearls; Tiana catches Nanami dancing in the kitchen. or Nanami was trying to surprise Tiana, but lost track of time

Dream SMP

BBH + reader w/ scoliosis pain headcanons

Drunkard; Fundy’s 1st time drunk is cause of Schlatt who ends up taking care of him

Fundy + his 1st crush [GN]

How Fundy was affected by malnutrition during/after the L'Manberg era

Sapnap & Karl Jacob x plus sized reader headcanons [GN]

Niki x plus sized reader headcanons [GN]

Draconic; How the Syndicate meet their dragons & each other

Philza + Independent Reader [GN]

Achy Breaky Heart; Reader experiences a breakup. Sequel to Philza + Independent Reader. [GN]

It's Paul McCartney Y/n; Basically I couldn’t tell that this one pic was Paul McCartney until I read the tags on the post; that’s it, that’s the fic but add Ranboo. [GN]

Panda fox hybrid Tommyinnit Headcanons

Take a Seat at my Table; Wilbur’s friends with a food blogger (reader) who always forgets to take pictures of their food when it 1st arrives to the point viewers/followers can tell the food isn’t good whenever they do remember. [GN]

Apologia Pro Vita Sua; Wilbur returns to the land of the living one summer's night and with it comes the mortal responsibility of self care

I Was a Human; Character study about Jack's resurrection. Or where Puffy is the first person he comes across after digging his way out of hell.

Genshin Impact

Otter Hybrid! Neuvillette [GN]

String of Fate; Neuvillette lets reader braid ribbon into his hair [GN]

Soft’ned the Stones; Reader never learned how to swim and is greatly afraid of open water. Yet all little! Neuvillette wants to do is bathe in the nearby lake. [GN]

Foxtrotted; Y/n writes Yae a poem after not seeing her for so long [GN]

Ghost B.C

Superstitions; What superstitions I think the ghouls believe in

Sodo or Dewdrop?

Hemlock; Someone discovers Mountain’s secret/extra greenhouse full of poisonous plants

Lost in a Maze; Florence gets lost in the abbey after running away from one of the sisters who is their caregiver. The ghouls, namely Mountain & Aurora come to the rescue.

Have You Seen This Cat?; The ghouls lose Florence’s cat

Pranks; The ghouls play a prank on Papa Copia

She's So Pretty; Flora finds an old picture of Sister Imperator

Nothing more Unholy than this; Florence ends up in a situationship with Swiss, one that the multi-ghoul wants to soft-launch

Spit Fire; Headcanons about how the ghouls use their element to prank each other

If Florence was a Ghoul

Gravity Falls

I’m an Art-tise; headcanons about the Pines twins as artists & their art style

[hydrangeyes]

Valentines day scenarios

So if you don't know, Yes this already existed, my old account was deleted (accident but I can tell I won't be getting it back), and am reposting my old x male reader works!

I don't know if I saved all of them but here is one that was saved to my AO3 account.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Edit Nov.8.2023: I forgot just how much I was into Bnha/Mha, Like going through google docs I had 130 + fic ideas listed out (Like HUH???)

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Aizawa:

“Mh.”

“Mhm.”

(You both stayed in bed and then later Aizawa surprised you with cooking dinner AND washing the dishes. You absolutely dick him down afterwards)

________

Hizashi:

Okay pretend covid didn’t happen-

“Hiza guess what I have~”

“Hm?~”

“2 tickets to [insert shared fav band], they’re playing tonight!~”

“Y/N!! So did I!!!”

The both of you hunt for a double date (only to kinda ditch them later) and are absolutely loud gremlins during the whole road trip and show.

(Rough outdoor sex abit away from the crowds??? Thrusts matching the beat and you both laugh about that later)

_________

Hawks:

“I’m pampering you today.”

“W-wha? Y/n shouldn’t it be-”

“No. Shut up. First order is cuddles and massaging your wings.”

“O-oh okay 😳”

(Your spoiling him rotten. If he has to work, watch you call them up and say get bent before hanging up. Today you have the excuse to finally wreck hawks with absolute care and fluff)

__________

Toshinori:

“Ah~ this onsen is the best~”

“It issss~ we can order whatever after even.”

“Really!? 🥺”

“Mhm, I um, asked them to make something special just for you 👉👈”

(Idk why writing him is so hard)

__________

Tomura:

“Today’s Valentines day right?”

“Uh huh, yeah it is.”

“And your working.”

“Um I didn’t think you cared for holidays to be honest…”

“…..”

“….”

“Any day that you can fully give all your attention to me is one we are celebrating.”

“Heh okay- Woah!”

“I’m not getting off your lap until you call your shitty boss and tell him you’re off today- no. The rest of the week”

(I love the thought that tomura demands your attention/is bratty once he knows without a doubt you’re actually dating.)

_____________

Dabi:

“….”

“No.”

“Oh come on dabi!”

“No. Nope. Fuck that.”

“Atleast accept the chocolate I made?”

“….you..made me chocolate?”

“Of course! I was thinking of buying you alot of presents and flowers but I think you’d like me making you something more”

“….hand them over.”

____________

Gang orca:

It’s just horny all day sorry. Telling me if he was off this day and maybe doesn’t have work the next he wouldn’t spend it absolutely wrecking y/n? Like in a sexy way or non sexy? Pls.

Out of any character besides the obvious ones I feel like he’s eating any type of treat that he can off of you. Round 5? Break time, cuddle bath bubbles, champagne or wine, oil massages at home horny “I love you and miss you and need you” sex. The day ends with you both exhausted because fuck all else you wrecked him too.

——–

Denki:

I’m a simp. I’m sorry I love him so much. Anyway

“Babe, babe wake up.”

“Hm?”

“You have the hardest morning wood right now and I want to lick chocolate off if it.”

———–

Brain starting to crash so this is all I got for now lol

[bbunnyyy]

LATE NIGHTS IN THE MIDDLE OF JUNE

Aizawa x Reader

Playlist 1 Playlist 2

A/n: I'm in the mood for some fluff, so here you go! Soft Aizawa 🥺

⇥ Aizawa, Hizashi, Nemuri and You are assigned to go undercover in Tokyo. You all drive from Musutafu to Tokyo overnight. How will this go when you are oblivious to Shouta's crush on you? Will you address it?

⇥ Aizawa, Hizashi and Nemuri are 31, You are in your early 20s. Y/n is a top 10 hero who works at UA as well. Aizawa and you are friends. Implied Hizashi x Nemuri

Inspiration: This playlist

AIZAWA X READER ROAD TRIP ❤︎ ❤︎

Aizawa and you stood in front of the car waiting for Hizashi and Nemuri to quit bickering over who would drive the car tonight. You were assigned to go to Tokyo incognito to finalise a deal. Tired, you used your quirk to grab the keys. "My car, My rules Guys." You whistled, starting the car. "But you're younger than us!" Nemuri protested, whining. "We're all going to die today" Aizawa jokes and sighs and plops himself on the front seat beside you. "Both of you stop fighting. We'll leave you here and complete the commission ourselves." Aizawa stated matter-of-factly. Hearing his deep voice, you subconsciously relaxed your tensed muscles.

Ten minutes into the drive, Hizashi and Nemuri started fighting over whose playlist was going to play. Aizawa pulled his phone out and started playing jazz music. All of you groaned in unison. "Why don't we see what our Y/n listens to! I hope there are some love songs!" Nemuri suggested after a while. You hummed, connecting your phone to the car and starting the playlist.

You all hummed along to Heat Waves, while Aizawa tried to look annoyed and pulled out his cat eye mask pretending to sleep. He wanted to hear more of your voice. He craved it. "Yo I look so good! Gotta update my followers!" Hizashi pulled out his phone and took a few selfies while Nemuri pulled out snacks and relaxed against his shoulder. You turned the volume down a little.

You had reached the outskirts of Musutafu while Hizashi and Nemuri were snoring away in the backseat. Aizawa and you were awake, sitting in silence, enjoying the sunset. You reached a bridge and decided to pull over for a break. The both of you stepped out and you took a few pictures of the sunset with your camera. "So, taking photos is one of your hobbies?" Aizawa asked. "No, not really, just taking pictures of things I like " You replied. "Hmm? You can take pictures of me too" Aizawa joked. You laughed along with him and took a picture of him while a love song played in the background.

☁︎

It was getting late and you were getting hungry. "Do you want to stop and wake them up now, Aizawa?" "Shouta. Call me Shouta. Let's wait for the next city." Your ears turned red at this newfound warmth. You had entered another city and got off to freshen up, leaving Shouta to wake up the loud and rather annoying duo jk and follow you. You guys walk into -favourite fast food restaurant- and placed your order. You sat next to Shouta. "You and Emi should get together! She compliments your personality, you'd be soooo cute together!", Nemuri says, earning a groan from Shouta. Your mood dampens but you try not to show it. Shouta places his hand on top of yours, brushing your knuckles with his thumb while telling Nemuri he finds Emi annoying. Your face heats up and you look away. You troop back to the car when Shouta offers to drive but you decline, telling him to save his energy for the next day.

The trio is asleep while you continue driving while sipping on your coffee/ energy drink that you picked up and humming along to the songs on the radio. You are started when you feel something brush against your shoulder. You jolt forward, but calm down when you hear Shouta sighing.

"You look tense, to say the least. Do you find me that intimidating?" He questions. "N-No! It's not like that!" You answer, taken aback by the sudden question. "Hmm? Are you sure? You should drop the formalities, You know" Aizawa says in a playful tone. "Yes." you reply while blushing, not able to form a coherent sentence. Shouta laughs at your response and looks out the window. "Will you listen to me?" He breaks the silence. You nod and he continues talking. "I know I'm blunt and I'm not good with feelings. I come off as harsh and uncaring and I know that. If you're offended by anything I said, you can talk to me about It, You know? It's better than getting ignored by you. Please tell me if I can do anything to make this better."

Your face is red to your ears after his speech. You rub your arm while keeping your eyes on the road. "It's not like that! In fact, It's far from what your thinking! 'm not ignoring you, I thought you found me irritating and that you have a thing with Emi, So I wanted to back off."

"Me finding you Irritating? Never. Besides, I don't know why people think I have a thing going on with Emi, I find her irritating." He turns the music down and sighs while looking out the window. "I shouldn't burden you with this but.... I like you. I know you don't like me and it was wrong of me to initiate something earlier. I understand if you want to spend some time apart after-" Shouta is cut off by your sweet laughter. He stares at you, confused.

"You're an Idiot, Shouta." He blinks at you, disappointed. "I feel the same way, Shouta. You'd never burden me." Shouta sighs in relief, and leans back into his seat, processing the range of emotions he went through in a few seconds. "I never expected you to like someone like me, But I'm so happy that you do." He says, giving an emphasis on so. "So, What do we do now?" You ask him. He takes your small/large cold hand into his and squeezes it lightly, running his thumb over your rings. "Pull over the car?" You pull over and he steps out, signalling you to do the same. He pulls you into a kiss under the moonlit sky and sighs into the kiss. "You don't know how long I've waited to do that sweetheart." Shouta says, his voice as sweet as honey. "Believe me, I've waited longer." You reply, your tone soft in place of the monotone voice Shouta was used to hearing. "I could get used to this." Shouta says, hoping you don't see him blushing. You are interrupted by Nemuri squealing and Hizashi honking the horn.

You blush, wondering how long they were awake. "I'M HAPPY MY FRIENDS GOT TOGETHER, BUT LET'S GET A MOVE ON LOVEBIRDS!" Hizashi yells. Shouta uses his quirk to shut him up while Nemuri giggles in the seat. You and Shouta hurry back to your seats. The trio falls asleep this time, and you continue driving, thinking about Shouta and his confession.

Shouta is the first to wake up and is instantly graced by your beautiful features, which are illuminated by the sunrise. He smiles and puts his hand on your thigh. You gasp and look at him. "Good Morning." You say. "Good Morning to you too, beautiful" you smile and your cheeks are tinted pink. You nod and turn the radio on. You and Shouta hold hands.

Hizashi and Nemuri wake up and wish you good morning. No one talks about yesterday night, and you can tell everyone is thinking about it. You clear your throat and turn the volume higher. You finally reach Tokyo and all of you step out, looking around and then unload the trunk. Hizashi and Nemuri whisper to each other. "Y'know Sho can go freshen up with Y/n while we unload the trunk and get it into the hotel?" Nemuri nods happily and pushes Shouta your way and pushes his hands towards yours. You shyly intertwine hands and walk away with Shouta.

[izusun]

Headcanon: Izuku is into DIY.

Hot Take: Izuku would create a long furby. He has a collection of various eldritch creepy long furbies. Katsuki absolutely refuses to go into his room because of them. He would've exploded them by now but that would make Izuku cry.

Other CursedTM Things that Izuku does that makes Katsuki die inside and that Katsuki tries to hide from the rest of Class 1-A:

He's a part of the Vulture Culture community and collects roadkill and dead animals to turn into bones.

He has a collection of shitty All Might hawaiian shirts.

He has a collection of stuffed animals. They all have names ripped from Lovecraft such as "Yawgsathoth" and "Mother of Pus"

He writes fanfiction of the heroes.

He has a giant worm on a string plush, and his room is also decorated with Worms on Strings (you have no idea how much Katsuki had to bribe him not to add worms on strings to his uniform blazer)

He does have a plague doctor mask and will regularly just go out in a cloak and his mask

He cosplays exclusively female heroes, and crossdresses the worst dresses

He basically does art makeup, on his face and the face of Katsuki

"Hey what are you reading?" "Oh, this book on how to cook frogs."

He will eat anything. Including stuff that is on the ground. He has an iron stomach.

The actual reason Izuku hangs up All Might everywhere (it used to be a mix of all heroes) is because once in middle school Katsuki accused him of being straight, so he put him up everywhere and continued the habit, Katsuki hates his room now

- Goblin Anon (otherwise known as Goblin anon projects everything she does or wants to do onto her fav)

HI GOBLIN!!! GENUINELY SCREAMED AT THIS AU BECAUSE WTF

even i would not want to enter the beloved’s (izuku’s) room because of his shit.

i’ve searched up long furbys and i am, simply put, traumatized. i had a collection of furbys when i was a kid but we had to give them away because there’s too much of them. but long furbys? i am very much scared.

there’d be a picture of a long furby under the cut, and i’m genuinely terrified of the fucker.

also, can i just say that izuku writing fanfictions is the least cursed thing that he does? because like, reading the rest is like looking at that picture where you can’t decipher a single thing because, again, wtf izuku.

but they’re also funnier? creepier? because i can genuinely see izuku doing those dhekdoowks

✄┈┈┈

this shit would probably be snaking around the frames of izuku’s door. or he probably has one at the corner of his wall, the one that meets with the ceiling, and when a visitor looks up, they’re greeted by the sight of this centipede looking furby that has additional four eyes that izuku lovingly and carefully sewn on. it’s so nightmarish :’)

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

the vulture culture part started when they were young. his interest started when he saw a documentary on how to pin butterflies and he was like, “you know what? thats actually something i want to do!” but! BUT!! he cannot catch a butterfly, thus he settled for mounting dragonflies which he collected in the nearby stream (where katsuki fell).

fun fact about mounting dragonflies: they lose colours when they’re dead. you can use acetone to not only help preserve its colours, but also to stop its decay. they decay so quickly, it’s terrible.

anyways, izuku does not know that and instead followed a youtube video of how to mount dragonflies, using an old picture frame as the case.

inko comes home, sees his son doing his stuff and is just happy that izuku’s not rewatching that loud all might video. she helps him pin the other wings and they are fascinated at how pretty they look. well, the next day, the wings are now transparent and the belly side of the dragonflies are black. it also stinks so they had to throw the whole thing plus the case.

izuku’s fascination grows from there.

a failed experiment, after all, instigates the desire to right them.

so that’s where he starts: butterflies, moths, beetles, another dragonfly case.

katsuki is fascinated and disgusted because, “why would you want dead insects in your room, deku?”

the rest began when the bakugou’s and the midoriya’s have road trips. inko doesn’t have a car so the bakugou’s drive along with them, and it’s a good day. the kids are having fun and getting along, and the parents are chilling and enjoying their vacation. life is good.

then on their drive home, izuku, who is sitting sandwiched between katsuki and inko, lets out this blood-curdling scream. it wakes katsuki up and almost had masaru swerving the car out of the highway.

“maru-san (because my boy izuku cannot say masaru) can you please stop the car! i wanna get that!” he screams, pointing at something indecipherable by the side of the roads.

masaru does anyways because it’s so rare for izuku to request something, but also his heart’s still pumping so fast after izuku’s scream.

masaru wasn’t even done stopping the engine when the car doors are opening, and katsuki and izuku are tumbling out, hand-in-hand. masaru and inko follow them closely, while mitsuki stayed to watch over the car.

katsuki’s excited for an adventure, but then izuku just. stops them. in front of a skull.

masaru chokes from behind them and katsuki lets go of izuku’s hand so fast, running back to his dad because, again, “deku what the shit?”

izuku ignores him and gestures at the deer skull, one that has moss growing by the teeth and around the jaw, turning to inko to ask, “mama? can we bring that home?”

masaru feels very faint, but doesn’t say anything when inko easily agrees, laughing at her boy and patting his untameable hair as if your child asking you for a carcass’s skull is normal.

inko picks it up and they go back to the car. mitsuki does a double-take on what inko’s holding, but shushes up when she saw izuku bouncing happily. katsuki hesitantly sits beside izuku, but when izuku began yammering about all might, he forgets about the skull and nerds out with izuku.

inko explains to mitsuki and masaru about her son’s newfound interest, telling them that it’d go away in two years, don’t worry.

it didn’t. instead, his interest and his collection grew. so for his subsequent birthdays, along with hero merch, he has vulture culture collections gifted to him.

when he moved to the dorms, they’re more packaged than his hero merch and katsuki wants to get angry because he’s been looking for those limited hero merch and yet there they are, chilling beside izuku’s many many skulls and bones.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

IZUKU STARTED COLLECTING THE ALL MIGHT HAWAIIAN SHIRTS WHEN HE WAS TWELVE

he ransacked for the very first edition, often saving his allowance just so he can buy the retro versions of the all might hawaiian shirts. sometimes he’d barter, but that’s only when he’s really desperate for the shirts. usually he’d just be in an auction site and buy just those.

he’d take katsuki with him and katsuki is very careful in what to buy, often researching the things and having a very long pros and cons list to narrow down what he’d buy, then his best bud izuku just out there buying all might hawaiian shirts.

funniest thing too is that those are the first to go because they? don’t value much? and they’re ugly, tbh, and yet izuku’s slurping them all up.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

the first time class 1a were talking about plushies, izuku dropped the names and they’re confused because-

“bro did you name your plushies with lovecraft names?” OR “bro? do you perhaps have personalized lovecraft toys?”

it’s the earlier one but izuku would want to buy personalized lovecraft monster toys.

ok but? he names them as per the appropriate lovecraft characters? like:

a purple octopus plushie is called azathoth.

a green gecko plushie is called bokrug.

a fish plushie (literally nemo) is called dagon instead of nemo.

a pink jellyfish plushie is mother of pus.

he has other plushies that have normal names (well, as normal as naming a plushie “cheese grater”), but he has a collection of specific plushies that align with lovecraft beings.

he writes all might x reader fanfictions, i’m sorry ;v;

he only writes them because he doesn’t want other heroes with all might, but also the reader pairing gets more views than all might with other heroes.

katsuki caught him writing a slowburn, enemies to lovers all might x reader fanfic and proceeded to proofread it for him.

synopsis of the fanfiction: reader is a villain with a sound quirk (tailored to present mic’s quirk) and all might met them in a hero gala where the reader pretended to be a worker so that they could infiltrate the gala’s holder’s office for a specific banking access that is linked to the world’s bank. all might manages to sniff them out and proceeds to fight them, but when a beam is about to hit the reader, all might swoops in and saves them. cue the reader developing unwanted feelings for their greatest foe, all might.

aND THEN!!! all might knows the reader outside of their villain persona and is actually very much taken by them. so it’s a painful surprise that the reader is a villain. but he is willing to save them.

it is still incomplete despite having 102 chapters. by chapter 78, katsuki asked for payment because shit was too long and too angsty.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

HEISOSL IZUKU HAS A WORM ON A STRING DOOR CURTAIN

he genuinely likes them but creating the door curtain kind of extinguished that interest because that’s just too much worms and too much strings for a single curtain, and it was very much tiring.

he has a tiny one stitched on his blazer and inko heaved this really big sigh when she saw that her son’s crisp UA uniform got a worm by the chest pocket.

aizawa eyed it once and was so close to expelling izuku just because of that.

shouto, when they became friends, sends a box of them to izuku because he thought that those are izuku’s favourite. katsuki had not stopped cackling when he saw the huge box of them.

to punish katsuki, he made a furby with worm hair and left it by katsuki’s door. katsuki’s scream woke everyone up.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

the moment he walked out with a plague mask, tokoyami was exiting his dorm room too and they made a long eye contact.

tokoyami does not know if he is amazed by izuku’s plague mask or he is terrified because why does it look authentic.

for halloween, he was a plague doctor.

he stowed them away after saving eri.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

his first women hero cosplay was in third grade when they had a play about different heroes. the girl who was playing ragdoll got sick and everyone’s already strapped in as their hero and unwilling to change. izuku, himself, is present mic (katsuki’s all might).

the girls don’t want to give up their heroes and izuku, the bestest boy, goes and says he will become ragdoll.

their teacher agrees and helps him strap in as ragdoll and you know what, izuku loves it.

from then on, he tries to cosplay as much women heroes that he can afford. inko loves helping him and katsuki thinks he is adorable but! dont tell deku!!!

OK BUT he wore the dress that broke the internet once and katsuki almost exploded the dress off him. almost because izuku dodged and warned him that if he ever breaks that dress, katsuki will have to pay (either monetary or revenge, katsuki doesn’t know so he behaved).

FOR HALLOWEEN, HE WORE THIS AND KATSUKI HATES IT

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

izuku painting star freckles on his face!!!! or heart freckles!!!! or flowers!!!!

izuku in fairy makeup, pleaseee!

he also loves giving katsuki his own freckles because something about blonde hair and red eyes with pale cheeks kissed by freckles is making izuku gay panic.

izuku putting concealer on his own freckles once and his classmates are looking at him weirdly, wondering why he looks off?

like he still looks amazing, but something’s missing. it’s fucking them up and katsuki isn’t helping them so they’re trying to piece what’s up.

it takes monoma sneering at izuku and asking where his eight freckles are that 1a realizes why he looks different.

ok but denki asking monoma why he knows how much freckles izuku has and monoma spluttering, bright red and embarrassed, until he just walks away.

(answer: he’s crushing on green bean).

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

IZUKU HAVING A COLLECTION OF LIKE ARCHAIC? BREWING? STUFF? BOOKS.

i dont know how to explain it but my friend has this specific book about poisons, detailing recipes and ingredients.

it also talks about the use of frogs, lizards, snakes. the benefits of different flowers (ones with toxins) and how to use them during tea time.

it’s bizarre but the book looks pretty so i think izuku would have a handful of those in his room.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

izuku eating grass? flowers? trying dandelions and complaining that it’s furry

izuku wandering what a twig tastes like so he just sucks on it like a lollipop.

inko gave up on stopping him because her son would just eat anything but his broccolis, and she’s very much tired of thinking if izuku would have an upset stomach. he never had.

first time mitsuki saw izuku do that, she forced him to drink cola and eat candy to cleanse his palette.

katsuki goads him on eating more.

izuku’s favourite is chewing on maple leaves. he’s just a weird boy.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

OK BUT THE FINAL ONE ABOUT HIS ALL MIGHT POSTERS?? I HAVENT STOPPED LAUGHINGF

izuku wanting more all might figurines than posters. he only has some chemistry stuff (periodic table) on his wall, a little tapestry that matches inko’s, a canvas of monet’s water lilies (again, matching inko), and some cosmic facts that he bought online.

and yk katsuki sees those and thinks that it’s so weird that izuku has those posters but not all might?

his first thought was, “he doesn’t like all might as much as i do.”

the following one is, “he’s straight so he doesn’t want a guy’s face on his wall.”

katsuki’s mouth so happens to say the second one and the next week he visited izuku’s room again, each surface of the wall that is not taken by pinned insects and his frog-book stuff, plus his other existing non-hero posters, is covered in just all might posters.

he belatedly realizes that his own face is also on izuku’s wall, but that’s for later musings because for now he’s jealous that izuku managed to scourge the limited all might posters, but also is disgusted a bit because that’s too much all might.

katsuki walks out before his interest in all might plummets.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

ps to my beloved: ﹤୨♡୧﹥

GOBLIN I LOVE YOUR AUS ALL THE TIME AND IM SORRY FOR RESPONDING SO LATE! YOU ALWAYS MAKE ME SMILE AND I LOVE U!!!! you’re genuinely so precious pls dont stop your ramblings!!!!

[kywaslost]

Deku x Reader

Warnings: drowning, CPR, crying

Requests are open!

“You got into UA?” Midoriya exclaimed. Y/N nodded vigorously.

“Yeah! I’m being transferred!” Deku picked her up and spun her around.

“We get to be classmates!” he yelled as he set her down. “We can go shopping! And…” he continued to ramble. Y/N giggled and grabbed his shoulders, pulling him into a hug.

The day for all of class 1A students to take a trip to the USJ. When they arrived, Y/N could tell something was wrong. When a black force opened up in the room, her feeling worsened. She was suddenly in the deep water portion of the USJ.

“Y/N!” Deku yelled, swimming over to her. He saw the fear and panic in her eyes. “Hey, it’s ok,” he said as he pulled her to him. Y/N buried her face against his wet shoulder. “It’s just a few villains.” Y/N shook her head.

“That’s not what I’m afraid of,” she said unsteadily. “I don’t like deep, dark water.”

“Hey guys! Asui called, appearing at their side. “We have a problem.” Y/N was ripped from Izuku’s arms and pulled underwater.

“Y/N!” Deku yelled. Sue dove under the water after their friend. She came up after a few seconds.

“They have her!” she cried. Izuku started to panic. “They took her down too far!”

“We have to save her!” Deku said. “She’ll drown if we don’t help her!”

Minutes passed before Asui and Deku spotted help. “Mr. Aizawa! Mr. Hizashi!” Deku yelled. The two men ran to the edge.

“Are you alright Midoriya?” Aizawa yelled.

“No!” he cried through tears. “The villains took Y/N underwater.” Aizawa and Hizashi’s eyes widened in fear.

“How long has she been underwater?” Hizashi called.

“About two minutes,” Asui answered. “They took her too far down. I can’t get to her!” Aizawa threw one end of his scarf to Hizashi and tied the other end around his waist. 

“What are you doing?” asked Hizashi.

“Going after her,” Aizawa gruffed. “The human body can only last so long without oxygen before the person dies.” Hizashi gripped his end of Aizawa’s scarf as Shota dove into the water. “Where did she go down?” he asked.

“Over here,” Deku yelled. Shota swan towards him.

“Go to Mic,” Aizawa ordered. “Get out of the water!”

“Come on Midoriya,” Sue yelled, using her tongue to pull him out of the water. The three people on land watched as Aizawa dove under the water. Several minutes passed before the water broke.

“Mic!” Aizawa yelled. “Pull us back, quick!” A limp body floated in his arms. Mic pulled on his end of the scarf with all of his might. Aizawa and the body floated quickly over to the side. “Take her!” He tried to lift the limp body of Y/N as Sue pulled her onto land.

“She isn’t breathing!” she exclaimed.

“Move!” Aizawa pushed Sue out of the way and started CPR.

Deku stood in pure fear and shock. She isn’t breathing, he thought. He panicked, lost in thought. He snapped back to reality when he heard coughing and sputtering.

“Roll her on her side.” Izuku watched as Aizawa, Hizashi, and Asui rolled Y/N onto her side. She was still unconscious but was coughing up water. Aizawa was patting and rubbing her back.

“Y/N? Can you hear me?” he asked calmly. His soaked hair fell in front of him and clung to his face. “Y/N?” The girl continued to cough up water.

“Come on kiddo,” Hizashi urged, also patting her back as he held her steady. “Breathe kid.”

Deku almost leaped for joy when she saw Y/N’s eyes open and heard her take a breath. He saw Aizawa smile.

“There we go!” Y/N leaned over and vomited up more water, along with some bile. Aizawa, who was behind her, held her shoulders. Y/N was pulled to rest against him “Breathe,” Shota instructed. He wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulders. “You are safe now.”

“Y/N!”

Suddenly a green mess was at her side.

“Midoriya!” Shota scowled. “Be careful. Hizashi, take Asui and Midoriya to the rest of the class. Be careful.” Sue pulled Izuku along, leaving Y/N and Aizawa alone. Aizawa patted the girl’s back as she started to vomit again.

“You’re alright,” he muttered.

“A-Aizawa?” she choked, crying.

“Yes,” he answered. “It’s me. I’m going to pick you up, alright?” Without waiting for an answer, Aizawa picked Y/N up and carried her to the ambulances outside. From there, him and Deku hopped into one with her and were off.

Deku was there when she woke up. He was there when she started to panic. Y/N was thankful for her boyfriend to say the least. It was a long road to recovery, but she knew that he’d always be there for her.

[honeynutouran]

Me too (Kirishima x Reader)

Summary: You have had a crush on Kirishima since you started going to UA but you never said anything. Now third years you have a long weekend and you and your friends decide to go on a road trip.

Word count: 1.8k

Kirishima x GN reader

Y/N = your name

A/N: I haven't written in a hot minute so I wrote this up feeling the need to write. Sorry if its not the best I just wanted to post something for you guys. Also I suck at endings so I apologize.

Warnings: some cursing, one bed and fluff. (If there are any other warnings please reach out to me so I know)

UNEDITED

Being best friends with Bakugou Katsuki had its perks like he would help you study because “If you won’t leave me alone might as well keep up with me.” (His exact words) And you got to hang out with his other friends and his other best friend, Kirishima.

Bakugou has noticed that you have had a liking for Kirishima and would not drop it. “God, just say something to shitty hair already, I am sick of you staring at him all the time. I’m trying to teach you this new move listen dumbass.” He said to you when he caught you staring at Kirishima during training.

“I was admiring his form, shut up boom-boom boy.” You spat back, hitting him with your quirk.

“Yeah right, his form, and that didn’t even hurt.” He laughed brushing off where you had hit him.

“I wasn’t aiming to hurt you, dumbass.” You said this time aiming at his head as he tried to dodge your oncoming attack.

A few weeks had passed and you and the rest of your group were planning what you would all do on your next long weekend. Mina insisted you all go on a road trip stopping at her house one night since she had enough room for everyone as long as everyone was cool with sharing sleeping spaces. Everyone agreed it seemed like fun, well almost everyone.

“Why would I want to spend a long weekend with you extras?” Bakugou questioned.

“Bakugoubro, you’ll have a great time with us.” Kaminari smiled a toothy grin to Bakugou and Kirishima joined in.

“Yeah, it wouldn’t be very mainly to skip out on time with your friends," Kirishima added.

“Plus, if you don’t hang out with us, who else will put up with you?” Sero chimed in causing everyone but the boy in question to laugh.

“Fine, so you guys stop annoying me.” He gave in and you smiled to yourself thinking about a weekend with your friends and especially with Kirishima.

After getting permission from Aizawa to leave the dorms for the weekend and Sero borrowing his family’s minivan the plan all fell into place.

“We can take turns driving every couple of hours!” Mina exclaimed climbing into the passenger seat next to Sero in the driver’s seat. Behind them in the middle row were Bakugou and Kaminari. You and Kirishima were in the very back because Bakugou claimed he would get car sick in the back (a lie he came up with so you could sit next to Kirishima, unknown to you) and Kaminari claimed he would be best in the middle so he could charge everyone’s phones fairly.

“let me know if you need more room, it would be unmanly of me if I made you uncomfortable.” Kirishima smiled at you as you guys got situated in your seats.

“I’m okay, thanks, Kiri.” You smiled back at him.

After a few hours, you started to feel yourself get more and more tired despite it now being Mina's driving shift and she was not the most graceful driver.

“Hey, Y/N you look pretty tired,” Kirishima whispered.

“hmm.” You nodded in reply your eyelids becoming heavier. You tried to fight the tiredness, but you failed, finally letting the sleep take over.

Kirishima was frozen in place as your head plopped onto his shoulder, he knew that if he moved and woke you up it would be super unmanly. He would never let anyone wake up because of him, especially you. Mina looked in the mirror and smiled at the sight of you and whispered to the rest of the car to look. With that Kirishima blushed when the rest of the boys turned towards you two Kaminari giving him a thumbs up. Bakugou rolled his eyes at the sight but he was secretly happy for his best friends.

After some more time and everyone having driven, you had finally arrived at Mina’s house. “Welcome to my humble abode!” Mina smiled while gesturing toward the house. “It is a little cramped but, we have 2 spare rooms.” She explained.

“So two rooms and six of us?” Sero asked.

“Well three rooms including mine, so two per room. I’m assuming Y/N in my room then the rest of you can split up.” Mina suggested.

“No way am I sleeping in the same room as any of these loud idiots. I’ll be with you raccoon eyes.” Bakugou complained.

“I am not sure my parents will be okay with you in my room Bakugou.” Mina started.

“Parents love me-“ started but was cut off by your laughing.

“Bakugou my parents have known you since you were in diapers, and they cannot stand you sometimes.” You laughed even more.

“Shut up ditz, I don’t want to be stuck with you all night either. I’ll talk to raccoon eyes parents. Also, sparky you cannot room with Y/N last time you guys had a ‘sleepover’ you short-circuited and shocked Y/N and you both had to see recovery girl.” Bakugou reminded you before walking into the house to convince Mina’s parents of his sleeping arrangement.

“Hey, that was awesome, and we were fine.” Kaminari protested.

“It’s okay dude, we can room together, finish out the smash bros tournament we started in the van.” Sero offered, and Kaminari happily agreed.

“Looks like we are roomies.” Kirishima smiled at you pulling his stuff and yours out of the van.

“I can take that.” You said pointing to your bag but, Kirishima shook his head and insisted he got it. “Thanks, Kiri, you really don’t have to though.” You say feeling bad that he is taking your stuff.

“It’s okay Y/N you’re stuck rooming with me, it’s the least I can do.” He offered smiling, a faint blush dusting his cheeks.

“I am not stuck with you, Kiri you would have been my first choice.” You smile back your face starting to heat up. Kiri looks at you a little too long before he realizes he is holding both your stuff and his own.

“I should go bring these to the room then.” He coughed out walking into the house.

“Well, that damn blasty brat convinced my parents that he would be the best to sleep in my room, so I guess I will show the rest of you where you will be staying.” Mina sighed not looking forward to her sleeping arrangements.

“Hey, I am a delight.” Bakugou yelled from somewhere in the house.

“Yeah, can’t wait. Anyways Kaminari and Sero you guys can take my brother's old room since you won’t mind the smell. Kirishima and Y/N you guys can take the guest bedroom.” Mina said pointing to each room. Kirishima nodded and took your stuff into the guest room upon entering he turned to you his face matching his hair.

“Uh Y/N… there is only one bed. I can ask Mina if she has a spare futon or something if you want me to, it would be super unmanly to make you share the bed with me an-“ you cut off his rambling.

“Kiri, it is okay, the bed is pretty big anyways there is plenty of room I wouldn’t want you to be stuck on the floor. I promise it is okay.” You say hoping he does not realize your face is on fire from the idea of sharing a bed with the boy you have been in love with since your first year at UA.

“Well, if you are sure it is okay.” He says a little unsure himself.

“It is.” You reassure him.

When it was time to go to bed Kirishima was panicking when he was changing into his pajamas, what if he did something to make you uncomfortable or what if he does something stupid, but what he didn’t know is you were having the same worries as you changed in the bathroom. After you finished changing you knocked on the door to see if it was okay to come in.

“I’m changed, you can come in,” Kiri said, turning towards the door when you came in. “What side of the bed do you want?”

“Oh, uh I don’t care either is fine.” You said walking in and closing the door behind you.

“Okay, I will just take the side closer to me then.” He said getting into bed, practically on the edge.

“Kiri, you can move over some more, you don’t have to worry. I would be worried if you fell off the bed.” You laughed at his attempts to be as respectful as possible.

“I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He explained once again.

“Kiri how many times must I tell you? You could never make me uncomfortable.” You said moving closer to him.

“Are you sure, because what if I like ended up cuddling you or something?” he blushed.

“I would be okay with that.” You admitted hiding your face under the sheets to avoid any further embarrassment. But your surprise Kirishima grabbed your waist and pulled you closer to him.

“This is okay?” he asked.

“It is more than okay.” You replied molding yourself into him.

“I’m glad.” He smiled into the back of your head making himself comfortable against your touch. You two quickly fell asleep in each other’s embrace.

At the moment you two were way too happy to be with one another you forgot about the four other members of your group. You were still in Kirishima’s embrace by morning, only have gotten more entangled with each other.

“Shitty hair, ditz get up!” Bakugou yelled as he opened your door. You both bolted up and backed away from each other only to have Bakugou scoff and close the door. “Don’t be late for breakfast.” He said from behind the door.

“We should probably get down there,” Kirishima said scratching the back of his neck.

“Yeah but first I gotta do something.” You said scooting closer to Kirishima.

“Do what?” he asked as you got closer.

“This.” You smirked, closing the distance between you two by crashing your lips into his, he quickly caught on and deepened the kiss letting the feelings across that you two have shared for each other for years. “Been wanting to do that for a long time.” You smiled when you broke apart.

“Me too.” He smiled back in his crooked smile. “So does this mean we are dating?”

“I hope so.” You said grabbing his hand and pulling him out of bed.

“Then it does.” He replied as you walked hand in hand to breakfast.

“I CALLED IT!” Mina yelled when you two walked into the kitchen.

“Sero owes me five bucks.” Kaminari said smirking at you two.

“Technically no, because we do not know when this happened.” Sero said to Kaminari making him frown.

“Who cares, can we eat,” Bakugou complained but you could have sworn when no one was looking he smiled to himself. “Told you, you should have told him.” He said to you under his breath.

“Did you know this whole time Katsuki?” you asked.

“Tch, know what?" He replied taking a bite of his food and refusing to keep talking on the matter. Kirishima grabbed your hand once again giving it a small squeeze and smiling at you when you turned your head towards him.

“I’m glad we went on this trip.” He smiled.

“Me too.” You smiled back Kiri.

[burnedbyshoto]

(i won’t say) i’m in love

― Bakugou’s feelings for you are true, but he can’t seem to utter those three words no matter how much he wishes to. ―

pt 2

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pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

warnings: fluff, angst, cursing, alcohol mention, bakugou katsuki is bad at feelings

word count: 6,625

a/n: this was supposed to come out yesterday but I sort of got lazy and didn’t want to edit. anyways, I hope you enjoy, stories like this one are always fun to write and if you’re the anon who requested that bakugou thing like... a week ago, this was inspired by you.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

The first time that Bakugou really noticed you was during the final year at Yuuei. 

Three years of vigorous and intensive academic and heroic work at the esteemed high school had led him to this very moment. While Bakugou was not the intensive hothead he once was when he was sixteen, he was definitely still hotheaded at the prime age of eighteen. With the end of the school year approaching, heavily enforced by the fact that a crowd of third-year middle schoolers had just left campus with hopeful and tired expressions on their face, he was grumbling while making his way back to his classroom.

For the practical part of their final, they were paired off to handle some insane over the top final as always. If Bakugou knew any better, he would be paired off with someone lame like Mineta or some shit. How he missed the days the teachers thought him and that damn nerd couldn’t get along enough to pass tests together… they had been paired up so often that first year - on top of finally establishing proper respect and an unadmitted friendship - it had led them to become an unbeatable force.  

While Bakugou climbed the stairs after his loudly chattering classmates, he was sunk in his thoughts about who he would be with. Bakugou was versatile, and while he was often a pain to work with, he worked well with just about anyone. ‘Who hasn’t he worked with yet?’ he thought, his fingers fisted in his pockets while they gathered onto the floor where their classroom was located. 

“MINA AGAIN?!” was the first noise to break through the aimless chatter to hold truth and knowledge. 

Bakugou looked at Kaminari and Mina, who were both holding each other and crying. 

Every single final, they had been paired up together, each time facing off the principal to be utterly demolished. Bakugou snickered at the thought of them failing the practical final for the nth time again.

“Looks like I’m with Todoroki!” Kirishima pointed out, his hand waving at the half and half bastard who was also seeking him out. 

They had three weeks until final exams took place, and the fact that they were announcing the teams this early definitely sat the slightest bit uneasy with Bakugou. And with his attention back onto the role list, Bakugou found himself praying that Deku’s name was next to his. If there’s anyone left who wouldn’t hold him back, it would be him.

“Bakugou!” a voice yelled, and Bakugou looked away from the list to see you walking over with a wave of your hand. “We’re paired up!”

Just like that, Bakugou realized that during his three years here, he had never once been paired up with you, and his lips turned into a frown. Interesting.

“You’re not busy right now?” he didn’t even wait for you to confirm his thoughts, “Let’s go, the TDL should be free right now.” Bakugou practically commanded, uncaring that you were definitely not in clothes to be doing anything physically demanding. 

“I needa change! I’ll meet you there in ten minutes!” was your unaffected response and Bakugou’s eyes narrowed when Kirishima jabbed him in the ribs, his eyes telling him to play nice.

“Tch. Fine, just don’t take forever.”

By the time you had returned to the TDL, Bakugou was still warming up, his hoodie pulled up to help his cold ears while he stretched.

“I don’t think we’ve ever been paired up or teamed up before!” you called out while stretching your arms above your head. “You think they kept us apart for so long for that very reason?”

“Like hell I would know,” Bakugou grumbled, refusing to look at you while you finished up your warm-up routine, by the looks of it you had run from the dorm here; that was a good enough warm-up. “I don’t know what kind of crap they’re going to try and pull on us at this exam, but I want you to let you know that you better not fuck this up,” he stood up, his hands rotating in circles, relieving the built tension in his wrists while he stared at you for the first time. His calm gaze meeting your strong one. “I plan on walking out of here with a perfect score.”

A smile spread on your face while you nodded, “I plan on it, too.”

Pleased with your response, Bakugou’s lips quirked into a smirk, his stance lowering immediately, and he watched while you readied yourself. 

“Ready?”

“Come at me.”

~

Bakugou sat on the floor, his eyes wide with his shock and personal embarrassment. 

The practical final exam had been a fear-induced, villain crawling, pro hero gone bad filled nightmare. A test designed with the help of Support Course students and a teacher who generated physical and real items based on whatever she thought had caused a most horrendous scene for Bakugou and you. It was then that Bakugou realized why both of you had been paired up - your fears were one and the same.

Failure, rejection, not being enough. 

While both of you had been so good in the beginning, powering through every obstacle at alarming power and speed, there had been a hitch in the road right before the finish line. When a ‘villain’ took on the form of All Might and blamed him for this downfall that society knew. He had thought he was long past breaking over that, he believed that it was something he had healed over two years ago. This faux All Might carried himself just like the retired hero, changing between his big form and the small one, his words and accusations dropping like boulders on him with every broken whisper that passed his lips. Unlike you, Bakugou wasn’t able to fight this terror, wasn’t able to beat the thing that still tripped him up.

The loud ringing in his ear wouldn’t quit while he fell down, his breathing short and scattered. He couldn’t hear your screams while you were battling your own opponents while All Might drew closer to him.

His fault, this was all his fault.

But a bright light exploded across the room, and Bakugou eyes felt heavy while you threw him onto your back and took off. His last exam ever, and just like his first one, it finished with him being carried across the finish line, but where the first one still felt like a victory, this felt like a complete failure. 

“Bakugou!” you exclaimed, your hands finding his pale, clammy cheeks in your hands while the victory tune carried lightly in the background. “Bakugou, can you hear me?!”

Of course, he could hear you, he wanted to snap as his body instinctively wished to push off his insecurity with anger. But his tongue was too heavy in his mouth, his eyes merely focusing onto your terrified face. You had taken a blast in the face earlier, and the bruising swollen lip you had was an indicator of the failure you came across. 

“Hey, hey, you’re okay!” you reassured, your smile spreading wider, brighter on your face, your calloused fingers rubbing softly against his face. “You’re okay! It was fake, remember!”

“It wasn’t fake, though,” Bakugou heaved, his fingers trembling with his grief and suffocating anger while he shoved your hands from his face. “It wasn’t fake. I’m the reason fucking All Might is gone, why the world fell into chaos! You were there that day, weren’t you? The day I was taken from the fucking forest.”

Your eyes widened from the statement, but Bakugou couldn’t blame you for that. No one but Deku, Aizawa, and All Might knew about these feelings. Still, the emotions that sat heavily on his throat seemed to pierce themself further into his throat while you very obviously thought about the circumstances of that fateful night three years ago.

“How was it your fault you were taken?” you asked, your head tilted, arms folded across your chest. 

Bakugou’s eyes widened, not at all expecting you to care or even try to calm him down. There was no point for you to either; it wasn’t as if you two were close after all. 

“I was a fucking dick back then,” Bakugou grumbled, his head turning to the side his gaze refusing to look at you. No one had ever questioned his thoughts on this statement, everyone had always left it at that.

“You’re still a fucking dick,” you half teased half spoke truthfully, and your body sank to the floor, sitting before him with a tilted curious head. “A lot of people are dicks, but that doesn’t mean dicks are targeted by villains. I mean look at Endeavor, he was sort of a flaming dick back in the day, but he’s a hero.”

“But it’s different, I was barbaric to the point where they tied me up during the sports festival,” Bakugou reasoned, his gaze turning back to you, and was slightly shocked (not that he would show it) to see annoyance in your eyes.

“Yeah, and that was total bullshit of them to do!” you exclaimed, pushing a hand onto his grenade gauntlet. “There was no reason for them to do that for you, you didn’t think you won, and they should have just let you be. Giving you a medal like that was completely idiotic of them. Should you have behaved like that? No, you shouldn’t; it was childish and dumb of you, but they’re also the adults… they should have known better before strapping you up like a rabid dog in front of the world.”

“Wha-?”

“I get that we’re not… close friends Bakugou, but if you think that the League capturing you in an attempt to make you cross sides was your fault, which would lead to Kamino… I mean, it did lead to All Might losing his ability to use his quirk and all, but this has nothing to do with you,” you affirmed, your eyes deadly serious but with a type of kindness that Bakugou wasn’t used to. “You were trying to make a name for yourself in this competitive field, and you did! I mean… don’t let this inflate your ego anymore than it already is-”

“Hah?!”

“-But you’re someone to fear. You’re strong and capable, and from everyone who was shown in that sports festival, you were definitely the one to watch. But it was the adults who fucked up that day, they’re the ones who ultimately set the scene in painting you like a deranged loose canon - which you are at times, but you’re not evil. The League thought you were that way, and I’m sure there is no doubt in All Mights eyes about what he did for you. You were someone who needed to be saved, and All Might is the world’s number one hero for a reason: self-sacrifice. It could have been you, me, or even the grouchy pork bun lady down the street - he would have given it all to save. Don’t even get me started on the fact that Japan became too comfortable with All Might and held him to the status of a god and not a human that he is… so… yeah, I’m not good with this kind of stuff, but I want you to know that this isn’t your fault. You’re in the story as to why he lost his ability to use his quirk, but All Might’s will carries on in all of us, especially in you, so unless you give up, he’ll never truly be defeated.”

It was at this moment that Bakugou finally saw you.

The way that you had been exceedingly kind and ever so gentle with him. Your words rang heavily in his ears, and a heavyweight felt freed from his shoulders the more he digested your words. He wasn’t sure when your hand began to hold his, but while he looked down at his gloved hand, he let out a shaky breath at the sight of your hand in his. 

“You’re pretty amazing, Bakugou, please don’t forget that,” you smiled, nothing but sincere truth on your tongue, and finally standing up, you looked down at him. “Well, it’s time to see how we fared, yeah?”

But there was something different in the way that his hands sweated. He knew that his hands were always perspiring. There was a normalcy to the nitroglycerine sweat that his hands emitted without a single thought, but the tightness to his stomach and the way that the sweat poured nervously from his palms made him realize that no, this was different. But what exactly? His stomach flipped at the still and happy appearance on your face, and a shadow of realization flooded through him… oh no… he knew why, but he knew he shouldn’t believe it.

He couldn’t.

With a sigh, he pushed off the floor, standing beside you, a smirk daring to pull at his lips at the way that your eyes traveled up in your surprise to his height and closeness.

“Let’s go.”

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“Watch where you’re fucking running, dunce face!”

“I was watching!”

Bakugou’s head snapped over to your giggling face while you lay on your own towel a few paces away from him. Today was Mina’s birthday, and instead of going to a restaurant for a birthday celebration like any average person, she had decided she needed to tan. How someone who was pink could tan was beyond Bakugou, but while he had no intention of hanging out with his old classmates on his day off, Kirishima had asked him to go for him. That wasn’t enough, so when Kirishima had included that you were apart of the group that was going, Bakugou considered it for about ten minutes before finally agreeing - but he would never say it was because of you. 

So here he was practically babysitting a bunch of nineteen-year-olds while he lounged under the sun’s hot rays. He needed to get rid of the funky tan lines on his body.

“What are you laughing about?” Bakugou grunted, his eyes narrowing at your figure, which was relaxed against the soft towel you were using as a blanket of sorts. “I’ll kill you.”

“I’m sure you could,” was your smooth response, your head adjusting on your arms to look at him easier. “I just think you should rub your sunscreen in better, Sero did a horrible job at applying it on your back. Unless, of course, you want a penis tanned on you.”

“Why the hell would I want a fucking penis on my back?!” Bakugou growled, his hand grabbing his SPF 100 sunscreen and slapping a handful onto his back. 

He heard you push off the sand ground and felt you stop behind him, and Bakugou froze when your warm fingers pressed against your back. “You’re a bit helpless at this sort of stuff. I figured you’d be the type to carry around a stick of sorts so you could apply it to yourself with no issue.”

“I don’t come to sunbathe ever,” Bakugou countered, his ears lightly burning at the feeling of your hands rubbing the sunscreen against his paler back. “I’m typically covered from head to toe.”

“Oh, I am more than aware of that,” you sagely nodded, pulling away when you were done to fall back onto your towel with a grin when he finally turned to look at you. “Still, you’re a big enough nerd to do it.”

Bakugou’s jaw dropped at the accusation, his eyes narrowing and his defenses on high alert, “The hell?! I’m not some damn nerd!”

“You graduated third in the class, unlike the cool kids who graduate ninth in the class,” you teased, your class ranking lower than his but still nothing to be ashamed about with who was in their class.

“That doesn’t make me a nerd, just makes me smarter than you damn idiots!”

“You’re the only person who flosses every day, always eats healthy foods, probably rivals Midoriya in hero trivia, listens to everything authorities say, never broke a rule or got detention, and sleeps at eight p.m.”

“How is any of that nerd shit? Just sounds like I’ll live longer and be better! Besides, how you know all that shit, you sound like some creepy stalker.”

A glint of amusement sparked in your eyes before you slipped on sunglasses, leaning down onto your towel with a proud grin on your face. “I have a strange fascination with nerds, sorry to disappoint you.”

Blinking in disbelief, Bakugou shook his head, settling back onto his own towel with a snort, “You’re a bigger asshole then I thought you were.”

“I hide it very well behind this pretty smile,” you flash a disgustingly pretty smile his way, and Bakugou rolls his eyes again.

“So… uh, how have things been for you at your agency?”

Bakugou would then find himself having a rather informative conversation with you. The both of you trading stories of how it was to work as a legit hero now, to no longer have to think of UA’s reputation or the fear that taking action in stressful situations would cause their learning licenses to be removed. He was also quick to discover that he really enjoyed talking with you, his often limited conversation energy never feeling drained as he continued talking.

Stories were shared, snarky comments exchanged, which left both him and you in laughter until the party of two became more.

He could barely keep a hold on his fake annoyment when both of you were being hauled into the cold ocean water, your loud shrieks as Mina tackled you into a crashing wave, making him grin as he quickly tore off Kaminari and Sero from his arms. That is until you reappeared from under the water to take him entirely off guard and tackle both of you into the water, your screams loud in his ear.

When he emerged from the salty water looking akin to a wet dog, everyone froze up in their poorly concealed concern and fear: this was war.

It had been a fun day at the beach, even if Bakugou had a hard time admitting to it, but as the sun set, the hot summer day fading into a warm summer night, and they all sat around a bonfire Bakugou felt as if the sun was still beating down on his tan skin. There was no reason for the explosive warmth invading his skin except that you were huddled at his side, your attention on the others. At the same time, you playfully fought with them, your eyes occasionally falling on him in hopes of a verbal back up. 

He agreed with you every time, growing more and more pleased with the fact that your eyes glimmered with great joy and how the others booed and disagreed until finally, they had to go.

“I miss hanging out with you,” you admitted when you all piled into the car, exhaustion sitting heavy on all of you after a good but long day.

Bakugou’s heart skips a beat, and he licks his lips, nodding slowly, not wanting to let you see how he was coloring in his embarrassing agreement.

“Yeah, whatever,” he looked at your still smiling form, letting him know you didn’t buy his statement even for a second. “...I do, too.” And the smile that consumed your face nearly killed every willpower he still had left.

It was then that Bakugou had to admit that he never thought he would have to consider.

He liked you.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“Bakugou is that you?!”

Bakugou had been going home. Dressed up in a formal suit, he thought he would be unrecognizable and left alone with his head hanging low and earbuds in, but he guessed no matter what, the laws of having earbuds in went ignored.

Today had been hard. Today had been the day of the funeral to one of his colleagues who had perished in a black market raid he and the agency he worked at had embarked on. It had been a perfect raid, something that hailed his name in the spotlight for quite some time, but it was for naught because a friend of his had died. Those who had been close to his fallen friend were forced to take the rest of the day off and get okayed by the agency’s psychiatrist before resuming duty. It wasn’t something Bakugou wanted to follow; after all, crime didn’t take a day off, but he had no choice (he had been threatened with more days off, and stupid Deku had pulled him away before a real scene could emerge).

But he felt weird in this get up, the suit just felt strange on his body, too nice, too formal for the lifestyle he held. Why it was inappropriate to show up to a funeral in your hero attire was beyond him. As it was midday, Bakugou had hoped that he wouldn’t have to see anyone on the train back to his province, but to his dismay, even with the classical music blasting in his ears, he heard someone yelling. 

He turned his head slightly and paused when he saw you running towards him with a bunch of paper in your arms, your face sweaty from what he assumed was exhaustion.

“You’re looking handsome!” you chirped, sighing heavily when you stumbled to his side, your cheeks pinched into a genuine smile. “Why you all dressed up for?”

“A funeral,” was Bakugou’s dry response, and your smile quickly fell off your face, a flustered and mortified look replaced the smile, and if it had been any other situation, Bakugou would have barked in laughter.

“Holy shit, I’m so sorry!” you awkwardly state, your condolences heavy on your face and quickly emitting from your tongue while you bowed in your embarrassment. “I didn’t remember that Slingshots’ funeral was today.”

Bakugou’s jaw tightened at the name, his head nodding with a stiff shoulder, “Not a big deal, he’s been gone for a few days now.”

Your eyebrows knit together, your eyes looking at him concernedly before you shook your head, “Doesn’t really matter, it’s still the death of a friend of yours.”

Bakugou shrugged again, his hands moving out to grab half the stack of papers in your hands and holding them for you. He always remembered his dumb nerd friends telling him that it was a kind act to do for people you liked, Kirishima always raved about how it worked for him at least.

“Well, um… Kirishima told me that you moved into the building across from mine! How crazy is that?!” Bakugou knew immediately that you were changing the subject for him, something he truly and deeply appreciated because he was not ready to talk about his feelings about Slingshot - well, at least not in public. Damn paparazzi always seemed to catch his most embarrassing moments.

“Kirishima’s telling you that shit about me?”

“Oh yeah, Kirishima loves to gossip all about your life,” you state matter of factly, your head tilting with a wink. “I know all your dirty little secrets Bakugou Katsuki! We have a class group chat where Kirishima and Midoriya spill all their knowledge on you.”

Bakugou wasn’t precisely sure how false that statement was; all things considered, he knew those damn idiots would do something like that should the old class actually want information on him. Sighing, he nodded towards the train that pulled up to the station, and the two of you climbed on, taking the first two available seats together.

“What’s my biggest secret, then?” Bakugou decided to play along, his head resting on the train window, his eyes falling onto your softly smiling form with shielded amusement.

A shit-eating grin grew magnificently against your face, and Bakugou almost regretted asking because you leaned in close, your lips whispering to his ear despite the empty train cart, and uttered something that sent horrified dread through his veins. 

“You’re one of three owners of the super exclusive and rare All Might Bronze Age trading card.”

“HOW THE FUCK DID YOU KNOW THAT?!”

“OH MY GOD, IT’S TRUE!!!”

Embarrassment blazed on Bakugous face while you continued to laugh, your hands holding your papers flat against your body while you shrieked for air. He rolled his eyes despite it all and just stared at your snorting form since you failed to recompose yourself at what was your lying attempt to disillusion him and worked. 

It had been seven months since Mina’s birthday, and since that fateful day, his feelings for you had only grown more extensive and more real. He could never admit it to anyone, but he texted you nearly every day - the days where there was no communication would often come from your end of the conversation or because one of you had an extremely exhaustive day at work. 

He watched how the soft winter sun shone through the clouds, piercing through the window to brighten the color of your eyes, making them look even warmer and more delicate in his opinion. How he was never interested in you during high school was beyond him. You were - on a personality level - identical to when you were in high school, he had confirmed that suspicion of his with Mina, who had been appalled on your behalf that he hadn’t noticed you before. It was times like now that he regretted it, he wondered if he would have felt the same way as he did right now back then. 

He hadn’t exactly changed much at all either, so he figured he would have liked you back then too.

You were witty, sweet, kind, but no pushover. You had helped to ease his worries and anxieties in a single night, where professionals failed to do so in years. It made no sense to him why it was this way, but as you asked to listen along to the music he played, he slipped off one earbud and handed it to you with sweaty fingers. 

You graciously accepted it with a broad and exciting grin while placing it into your ear, your amused groan making his heart flutter with warmth while you complained about his old folk music selection.

“I still don’t peg you as a Beethoven guy!” you exclaimed, your head swaying in time with Symphony No. 9. “I thought you were a Led Zepplin sorta man.”

“That shits bad for your brain, you have to keep your entire body healthy or you might as well die off like some shitty extra.”

“You really think you’re some main character in this world, don’t you?” you ask, your smile teasing and your eyes so warm and smooth Bakugou felt his heart stop with just your stare. He licked his lips, his mouth feeling dry, and his hands that usually never stopped sweating felt dry when he placed them on his lap. 

“I’m the main fucking character,” he corrected with a smug smirk. “Don’t you dare fucking forget it.”

He would never say it, but his favorite sound and sight in the world became this moment right now, the hardworking city fading in the background and even his music fading into nothing while your hands pressed to your mouth, and a charming giggle escaped your mouth. 

“I won’t.”

He won’t admit it, but when you hugged him later that day as a means of goodbye, it took every ounce of self-restraint to keep himself from tilting you backward and kissing the lights out of you.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Bakugou was in trouble.

It wasn’t anything that warranted immediate concern or any type of life-ending trouble (although his heart was hammering so fast he thought it could be life-ending), but he was in trouble. 

His hands were clenched together, and his head was down while he listened to Jirou and Mina screaming some sort of punk-pop duet that was in English together. It had been over a year since the train incident, a year for Bakugou to shift through his feelings for you and what they meant and if they were meant to be pursued. It was weird for him to have waited this long to begin with. He was a man of acting quickly and thinking later, a fatal flaw of his if he would, but you were so different to him - a situation where he couldn’t behave like some hot head or else he would regret it.

Today was Kirishima’s twentieth birthday, and he had wanted a simple stay in party with everyone, a shit ton of alcohol, and a karaoke machine. It was to no surprise that it was a party that the entire class 1-A ended up showing up, each and every one of them ready to have fun with the drinks and karaoke machine. But as he watched you up there doing the stupidest poses (alongside seven others) known to mankind while singing some diva song, something hit him.

His once amused smile melted off instantly when you smiled widely, your head tilting backward into a peal of laughter when Aoyama knocked you straight into Hagakure and Mina. 

He was in love with you.

He was in fucking love with you.

That was a problem! That was not okay!

He had gotten up from the crowded bedroom (something you had insisted they perform in to really push that karaoke room feeling). He walked into the living room, a harsh comment about how he needed some fresh fucking air being thrown behind him while he slammed the door shut. No one questioned him, and the party continued. 

A part of him was relieved that neither Kirishima nor Deku followed after him, he didn’t really wish to be a damper to the party even though he sure he was one right now. But what he didn’t expect was for your body to slip out of the bedroom door, beads of sweat rolling down your face while you met his gaze.

You smiled broadly, walking over with a wave before flopping onto the couch.

“It was too hot in there, I was sweating like a goddamn pig,” you exasperate, your hands fanning your face for added coolness. 

How Bakugou wished he was that half and half bastard so he could help you cool down.

“I think you’re sweating more than a fucking pig,” Bakugou pipped in, giving his unneeded opinion.

You chuckled, your lightly sweating forearm smacking his side while you chuckled, “Yeah, true. I’m sweating like you right now.”

“You’re an asshole,” Bakugou grunted, his eyes shifting to look at you.

Despite his harsh words, he was looking down at you with no malice in his gaze. Breathing heavily out of your nose, you pushed off the couch and sat on it properly, looking at your best friend with a grin.

“And why are you out here exactly? Kiri wants to sing a song with you, Midoriya, and Todoroki like really badly.”

“Well shitty hair can come ask me to sing a song with him and those idiots if he wants, I’m not going back in that disgusting room until I have to.” Bakugou waves off, his thighs shifting against the soft couch and his arm falling on the sofa behind your head.

“Don’t be a party pooper!” you groaned, your hands shoving his side softly, but your smile remained on your face. “What’s eating you up? Come on, you can tell me anything, ya know!”

Bakugou freezes a bit, those words relaying in his mind like a broken record. 

What would happen if he told you if he was in love with you?

Would you hate him if he did?

He was sure you wouldn’t say it back - that was for sure.

“I won’t say,” he breathes out shakily, the words ‘I’m in love with you’ pounding on every cell of his body.

He loved you. He loved you more than he thought he could ever love anyone.

He wanted to tell you, and the look of utter disappointment in your face only made his stomach twist with guilt and failure that he didn’t tell you. 

“I promise I won’t tease you… I won’t do anything to upset you! You know you can trust me, right?” you plead, your hand taking his sweaty one, and Bakugou flushed at the warm contact. 

He loved you, he loved you, he loved you.

There’s a look of guilt that twists on your face, and you sigh, your head dropping and Bakugou freezes when you begin to shake your head. “Sorry, that’s… that’s rude of me. If you don’t want to tell me, I won’t make you, but if you want to, I promise that I won’t judge.”

Your concerned eyes rose back up to meet his, and Bakugou felt his spine go stiff.

A shaky breath of air expelled past his chapped lips, and Bakugou’s fingers trembled, “I have something to confess…”

Your eyes widened in shock and silent glee that he was going to let you in on his secret, but he wondered if you would look the same after he confessed.

“I’m-”

“Y/n!” a shout interrupted, and Bakugou froze while both of your heads snapped over to see Kirishima pushing out of the door with a bright grin on his face.

“Ei!” you smiled broadly in return, your voice almost breathless at his arrival, your eyes filled with emotions that Bakugou could only dream were directed towards him. Immediately his stomach twisted sickeningly at the sight of his red-headed best friend take three long strides to get to the couch before planting the biggest kiss he had ever seen onto your lips.

Bakugou’s stomach filled with bitter acid at the sight of you and Kirishima passionately kissing despite having him no more than two centimeters away from you. Giggles and the purest sounds of two people in deep, deep love emitted from the both of you, and it took everything in Bakugou not to split his skull in half in raging jealousy.

“I was missing you so much! I looked away, and you were gone!” Kirishima pouted, his tone a low whine, but his mouth continued to press flustering kisses against your mouth until you were gently pushing him away. Embarrassment obvious in your posture because shamelessly making out in front of any audience always left you uncomfortable. 

“I was… checking up on… on Bakugou,” you pathetically moaned against Kirishima’s mouth, your hands helpless against his chest while you attempted to push away your tipsy and loving boyfriend. Kirishima let out an understanding ‘oh’ before pushing away from your lips and collapsing onto the couch next to you. 

Bakugou was silent and frozen as he looked at his feet, his nostrils flaring in his anger and embarrassment because what was he ever thinking?! Confessing to you when you had a boyfriend?!

“How’s Bakubro doing?” Kirishima cheered, his hand slapping against Bakugou’s taut shoulder with a wide grin. “Is he being a good friend?”

“You know he always is,” you laugh, your lips pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “He was about to tell me something, though!”

Bakugou froze when he felt your gaze and Kirishima’s fall on him, and acid shot to his mouth.

You had been dating Kirishima since the start of the third year at UA. It was a relationship he was always and has always been aware of because Kirishima never was secretive about his puppy love crush on you! Still, he knew this and fell for you. You were his best friend’s lover, and he fell in love with you. He could never say he was in love with you, not if he knew what was best for you and Kirishima. 

But even if he wasn’t the sixteen-year-old boy with anger issues from hell, there was a part of him that would always be that, and in a time where he needed to be calm and lie through his teeth, seething anger exploded in his chest.

“I don’t want to be your friend anymore.”

Both you and Kirishima froze, “W-What?”

Bakugou was a good hero because his quirk was powerful. Explosions were powerful, and they were deadly if misused. He wasn’t someone who could use his quirk as a means to save - sure he saved people every day, but he would never aim a blast towards a victim. That would be idiotic. Bakugou knew he wasn’t his quirk. He was explosive and bitter and mean at times, but he believed he was more than that. He was better than that. And for the past three years, he had been working on that part of himself, only for it to fall and collapse in an explosive fury right now.

He was dangerous.

“This entire time, I only gave you a shot because I knew you were seeing Kirishima. You’re fucking annoying though, an airheaded, a coward, and so fucking nosey, I wonder just how Kirishima is still with you! He can do so much fucking better than you, and it’s embarrassing that you can’t even see it!”

“You don’t mean that,” came your soft and utterly broken voice, your face pleading for him to say it was a lie, pleading that this was some joke. 

Tears burned at the back of his eyes but refused to form, and Bakugou wished he could say he was done after that, but the thing about destruction is that there was always more than just one wave. 

“I tried to be your friend, I did, but it was the worst mistake I made. You’re a shit friend, a shit hero, and a shit significant other. You’re not someone I admire or think of as an equal, and I think it’s best if you just left me the fuck alone.”

“You’re an asshole,” you laugh humorlessly, your eyes stone hard and staring daggers into Bakugou’s skull, but to his own horror, a steely laugh escapes his lips he shrugs.

“I’ve been called worse.”

You stood up, storming away from the loud room and slamming the door so loudly behind you it rattled the walls.

“What the hell was that, Bakugou?!” Kirishima gasped, his eyes wide in a fury and hurt, the once tipsy glaze to his eyes gone and only full of sober anger and disbelief. “That was the unmanliest shit I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth?! The fuck is wrong with you?!”

“Fuck off, go take care of the fucking crybaby,” Bakugou heaved, the tears burning even more as he folded his arms, his gaze focused on his feet once again.

“Did you know that y/n used to fucking like you?! All three years in high school y/n had the biggest fucking crush on you, and even when we got together… I knew those feelings still existed…” curling acid shot up his throat at the critical information. You had liked him? “For three years y/n tried to be your friend, and it didn’t work until the very end and you just… why did you do that?! You’re a fucking dick, Bakugou.”

Bakugou wasn’t sure if he was grateful or not when Kirishima pushed off the couch, his footsteps shockingly sober as he moved to chase after you. But the moment that Kirishima was out of sight and the karaoke room began to play the Disney classic, I won’t say I’m in love, something twisted in his soul and tears pushed through his eyes.

He loved you so fucking much, but as he always seemed to, he had destroyed every good thing in his life because of his attitude.

You were Kirishima’s, and it only really hit him now… how could you ever forgive him?

[babydaddyleorio]

prove to you: katsuki bakugo x reader (series)

pairings: Katsuki Bakugo x fem!reader

word count: 2,291 

summary: Losing you was one of the worst things that’s ever happened to Bakugo. That is why amid your class vacation, Bakugo makes It his mission to win you back.

warnings: slight cursing, grammatical errors

Chapter one  ➜

part two

The bus harshly hit a dip in the road, causing your body to rock side to side. Your head rested against the cool glass of the window next to you, and the headphones that Jirou had gotten you for Christmas were stuffed deep into your ears playing music. 

In order to commend Class 1A’s hard work for these past few months, Principal Nezu arranged a special trip to a resort for you all to unwind and take a break since he could tell that fighting villains constantly was starting to take a toll on the student’s wellbeing. The bus was filled with loud laughter and different conversations circulating among your classmates, yet for some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to participate in any of it. You clicked the home button on your phone once you felt the vibration go off in your hand, and your eyes scanned the screen for the notification. You saw that you had gotten a text and you expanded It to see what It said.

Mina: Hey, you okay?

You quickly looked up from your phone and to Mina who sat next to you, eyes already staring back with a sheepish smile on her face. You took your headphones out of your ears and paused your music so you could talk to her.

“Yeah I’m fine, I’m just a little... motion sick.” You lied and Mina nodded in agreement, although you could tell she wasn’t totally convinced. You should’ve been honest with her about how you were feeling, Mina was your best friend after all, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to discuss what’s really been bothering you.

“Well we’re about to pull up to the hotel now, so you won’t have to be sick for long!” Mina chirped in response, and as if on cue, you looked out the bus’s window to see tall palm trees, a massive waterpark, and a fancy looking building come into view. 

“Damnnn...” You and Mina both said at the same time. The two of you quickly looked at each other and busted out laughing at how in sync you were. You guys hung out so much that you were literally the same person now.

“Okay everyone, we’re here.” Aizawa suddenly spoke with sleepiness in his voice, causing the commotion on the bus to immediately halt. The bus then jolted to an abrupt stop, and you had to quickly place your hands on the seat in front of you to sturdy yourself from the impact. Once the driver had shifted her gear to park, everyone stood up from their seats and pushed mercilessly against each other to reach the aisle and you laughed to yourself once you heard Iida start screaming at everyone to stay calm. You and Mina waited for everyone to get off before you guys slid out of your seat because you simply did not feel like getting trampled on. You opened the overhead above you to get your luggage and Mina stood by you, gripping on to the straps of her pink backpack while bouncing in her spot. 

“Are you ready to have the best weekend of your life?” She asked you with the biggest smile on her face. You laughed at your friend’s enthusiasm for this trip, something you yourself wish you were currently feeling. You finally brought your heavy luggage down and turned to face Mina, now smiling back at her.

“Yeah, let’s do this!” You laughed and Mina did a little dance once she heard you say that.

“That’s the spirit!” She shouted and you both high-fived each other while giggling. Honestly, you were glad that you had Mina because even though she didn't know the whole truth, she was still able to lift you out of your slumps. There was no point in sulking anyway because this weekend was a reward for all your hard work and you deserved to give yourself this vacation. You and Mina decided it was time to leave once the bus driver grunted at the both of you to get lost, but before you completely walked out the automatic doors, you turned your head back to look at the empty seat that was in the back of the bus, remembering the person who was sitting there during your ride here. You then quickly shook your head at that intrusive thought and continued to follow behind Mina.

Not even he could ruin this vacation for you.

“Alright everyone, settle down.” You heard Aizawa yawn once you stepped off the bus, your luggage dragging behind you as you walked towards the big group of UA students.

“Now I already went over the basics before we left UA, but I want to bring up two more things now that we’re here at the resort. For one, you guys are already aware that all boys will be roommates and all girls will be roommates. There will be no mixing nor visiting each other’s rooms at any point in time here.” Aizawa stated, judgingly side eyeing Mineta who was now crying on the ground before continuing. “But despite that, you all were still allowed to pick your buddies for this trip regardless of their gender a while back.” 

Hearing Aizawa say that last part caused your eyes to widen, freezing you cold in your spot. The memory of who you picked to be your partner snaked Its way back into your mind, triggering an unwanted pain to hit you in the chest. 

“I will repeat the names of who you’re paired up with just in case you forgot.” Aizawa lazily spoke, the class happily cheering at him. You on the other hand felt your whole world come crashing down and the epiphany of having a good trip flew out the window upon remembering who you’d be paired up with. You stood tapping your feet against the sidewalk anxiously, watching as all your classmates moved to stand by their partners. It felt like an eternity hearing Aizawa read off the list of students from his clipboard until finally, you heard your name fall from his lips.

“Y/n and Bakugo...you two will be partners for this trip.” Aizawa nodded before moving on to the next set of people. 

Your attention slowly drifted to where Bakugo stood in the crowd and your eyes locked onto his red ones that were glaring at you harshly. You clutched the handle on your suitcase as you analyzed Bakugo, finally facing the person that had been the main cause behind your foul mood these past few weeks.

“Y/n! Girl, are you sure you’re alright?” Mina questioned while gently tapping your shoulder, breaking you out of your trance. You awkwardly cleared your throat and moved your eyes, turning to nod at her.

“No, I really am! I’m just kind of tired...” You trailed off, hating that you lied to her again. Mina eyed you suspiciously but chose not to pry since she understood that It was a long ride here. 

“If you say so.” Mina muttered as the both of you followed behind Aizawa to check into your rooms, the glare of Bakugo still ingrained in your mind. 

x

You fell onto your bed with your eyes closed and your arms spread out, the springs squeaking and bouncing once you sunk into the mattress. You sighed in relief and peeked one eye open to see Mina still on the carpet unpacking her bookbag. 

“Now you can’t be that tired, we just got here.” Mina laughed and you sat your body up, staring at her with a deadpan expression on your face.

“Yes I can, there’s always room in my schedule for a nap.” You smirked and Mina rolled her eyes while getting up and walking towards the kitchen area. 

You and Mina were currently in your shared hotel room, Uraraka and Momo in the room linked right next to yours. It had been exactly 30 minutes since you arrived at the resort and you had spent the entire time trying to block out a certain someone from reappearing in your thoughts.  

“I’m ordering room service, do you want anything?” Mina suddenly called out while leaning herself back through the doorway with a white phone to her ear, but you shook your head at her in response.

“No, I’m not hungry.” You said while setting your phone on the table and grabbing the remote from beside you to flick on the TV. You pushed your back against the headboard and wiggled into a comfortable spot on the sheets that you brought from home because you did not trust hotel sheets. You clicked through the channels the TV had provided, but you paused once you heard a knock on the front door.

‘Damn, room service is here already?’ You thought to yourself and yelled Mina’s name so she could come get the door.

“I’m in the bathroom, can you just get it?” She yelled back and you threw your head to the side, sighing loudly before slowly sliding out of bed. You dragged your feet against the room’s brown carpet and opened the door with your hand reaching for the food, but you stopped it in mid air once you saw that It was Bakugo standing in front of you instead of the bellhop.

“We need to talk.” He said with all bluntness evident in his voice and you retracted your hand back to your side.

“For what? You already made It pretty clear how you felt.” You snorted while moving back and grabbing the door, but Bakugo stepped closer and put his foot between the crack before you could shut it completely.

“Will you just listen to me?” He snapped with an obvious frown on his face and you contemplated to yourself If you wanted to give him your time and energy again. He looked at you expectantly with his eyebrows furrowed and you pursed your lips, deciding that It would be best to not get involved with him on this special trip.

“The answer is-” Just as you were about to finish your sentence, the sound of Aizawa’s voice cut you off as it suddenly echoed from down the hallway. Bakugo then angrily sucked his teeth and shook his head.

“Shit, I’m not supposed to be here right now.” He muttered in a hushed voice and looked up to your face; his low, red eyes somehow managing to stun you for a second. However, his effect didn’t last long because you were yanked out of your daze once you felt Bakugo grab your wrist and pull you out of your room.

“Hey, what are you doing?” You gasped and Bakugo looked back to shush you before continuing to walk with you right on his heels. 

“Shut up dumbass, do you want to get caught by Aizawa?” He asked and you paused, remembering what Aizawa said about boys not being allowed by the girls rooms. The sound of Aizawa’s voice was getting louder and closer and you saw Bakugo start to frantically look around until his eyes finally locked onto a random, metal door that was open.

“In there.” He nodded and the next thing you knew, Bakugo had started running towards it while dragging you behind him. The both of you skid into the dark room, him quickly closing the door behind you. You looked at Bakugo like he had lost his mind, which he clearly had with the way he was acting, and put your hand against your chest to catch your breath. You then glanced around the room you were currently in, eyes scanning across the shelves that were filled with various cleaning products and taking note of how the mop in the bucket next to you occasionally grazed your arm.

This boy had taken you into a damn janitor’s closet.

“Why did we have to come in here? You realize we could’ve just hid in my room, right?” You whispered-yelled at him but he shushed you again, this time pointing towards the ground. You could see a shadow appear from under the door and you quickly shrinked yourself back against the wall so the person wouldn’t see your shoes.

“I could’ve sworn I heard something here.” Aizawa pondered out loud and you and Bakugo looked at each other with wide eyes. There was a moment of silence, filling you to the brim with nervousness, but then your eyes moved to another shadow that had moved to stand next to Aizawa’s.

“You’re probably just hearing things man, you know that’s what happens when you’re as old as you are. Should I start looking at nursing homes for you?” You heard what sounded like Present Mic’s voice and then the immediate scoff of Aizawa.

“Forget It, and for the last time you idiot, I am not that old.” Aizawa fussed while Present Mic laughed loudly, both of their shadows now disappearing from underneath the door. 

You and Bakugo let out a sigh of relief once you felt they were gone and pushed yourselves off the wall you were against. Bakugo walked towards the door to turn the handle, but when you noticed that he was still there after a couple seconds, you turned to him in annoyance.

“Can you come on?” You asked impatiently while rolling your eyes and the sound of the handle jiggling reached your ears. Your eyebrows creased in confusion as to why this boy was struggling so hard to open the door until he finally turned himself to look at you, hands balled at his side and an indescribable look now painted across his face.

“We’re locked in.”

[tenyacore]

Hi pretty baby, you got me hooked and now you cant get rid of me 😌

But next request,,, you know dadzawa 👀 well what if one day iida is watching sweet lil baby eri and they're out at like a store or something and iida has a crush on reader and they see her (or them! Inclusivity) and hes blushing and stuff so eri runs off to the reader and iida is panicking meanwhile eris complementing the reader and then iida finds them (whether they say they like each other is up to you, also sorry if this is like too detailed or something lol) (and I'd like this to be a long hc or fic pls but dont force yourself I wont get upset tehe ily)

corner store crush

-> iida tenya x gn!reader

hemlo i hope you enjoy :00 so i wanted eri to kind of know the reader prior so uhhhh lets say reader has a younger sibling that goes to school/daycare/wtvr with eri. basically eri knows reader's younger sibling so reader is a familiar and comforting face to her aaaa

warnings: none

word count: 1.2k words.

alternative title: iida tenya is bae

check out my masterlist for more of my works!!

iida wasn’t the type to mess up so bad like this. frantically searching what felt like the biggest store ever for eri, he now understood the true weight of his feelings for you- how the mere sight of you is enough to have him tripping and stumbling on his words. 

aizawa being not so used to this dad thing was in a bit of a predicament. typically, mirio would babysit, but he was off doing 3rd year activities at UA, which left aizawa stumped. he trusted mirio to take care of eri, and after getting punished for yet another incident midoriya wasn’t a good choice either. thinking about who would be good for keeping eri safe and being responsible, he landed on what felt like a sane, decent choice- iida tenya, 1a’s class rep. 

taking care of the teacher’s child wasn’t quite one of the responsibilities of the class rep but aizawa didn’t have much of an option. leaving eri to iida in a hurry, he was running off to do his hero work. the instant aizawa left, iida noticed eri’s eyes started to tear up. here he was, basically a complete stranger, trying to cheer this poor kid up. to any child, as much as iida is friendly, he’s also some big scary dude with sharp features and a tendency to flail his arms around and raise his voice.

that’s when he had an idea. he took her into the dorms where midoriya was cleaning away, not willing to receive another lecture on how his actions have consequences. “deku!” eri smiled and waved, running towards him, happy to see a familiar face. her excitedness only lasted a short while though, bakugo quick to holler obscenities at izuku, asking why he was the only one cleaning.

much to iida’s dismay, eri’s face went back to its previous frown as they sat in silence. another idea came to iida’s mind and soon he and eri were making their way to a store nearby, hoping to find some random teddy bear or a bunch of ice cream to make her feel better. eri, having seen that iida was midoriya’s friend, felt a bit more comfortable holding his hand as they crossed roads and as she jumped in puddles (which often wet iida’s probably expensive pants). 

reaching the convenience store, the pair sighed at the feeling of the air conditioner and iida felt it was safe enough within the building to let go of eri’s hand. turning around to grab a basket for whatever heaps of snacks and trinkets the two would buy, his eyes widened.

eri gasps and points “look, its y/n!” iida was probably 70 different shades of red and pink before looking away. “yes it’s y- y/n, but let’s not bother them. come, let’s find some stuff.” he motioned for eri to follow him and he walked away towards the frozen aisle, forgetting to check if the child was actually tagging along. 

well, she wasn’t. the blue haired boy only realized once eri hadn’t replied to whether she’d want a popsicle or ice cream cone, turning around to just see the colorful chip bags on the other side of the aisle. oh no. 

he looked around, still not seeing eri and he scolded himself for letting himself get distracted by... you.... oh. he cursed at himself, today not being the first time you had him making mistakes... nor was it one of the first ten times. it was an almost daily occurrence at this point, his feelings for you only deepening with each time he saw you, which was every single day, multiple times within the hours he’s awake (and asleep, if he’s being honest, it isn’t rare for you to show up in his dreams). 

the sound of what seemed like eri’s giggles snapped him out of this trance he found himself getting lost in and he quickly went to searching for the missing girl. thankfully, it seemed like she was still in the store. trying to avoid you as much as possible he searched every area you were in and... nothing. what hadn’t occurred to him is that eri knew you- and eri was holding your hand as you stood in the same place he was before he realized she was lost, figuring out which ice cream to get her.

walking towards the entrance of the store, he decided waiting there would be the better option out of either that OR freaking out and calling the police in a panic. he knew eventually she or (in a worst case scenario) her kidnapper would have to walk through those doors to leave. 

that’s when he sees you, in all your glory, and completely fails to realize you and eri were hand in hand in the frozen aisle as eri complimented how amazing and nice you were and how “the nice guy” with her really liked you. you were a bit confused, but grabbed her an ice cream either way and started unknowingly making your way towards him, still looking over at eri as she followed you. 

“there he is!” she points directly at iida, who you liked, staring right at you. attempting to look away, he saw eri and let out a relieved sigh. “there you are, eri! i was worried! what would i have done if i couldn’t find you? what would you have done if i had left and you were still here, lost?!” you chuckle and placed her hand in his so he could grab it. “no need for all those hypotheticals, she’s right here and perfectly fine” you ruffle her hair.

eri couldn’t help but notice the blush on both of your faces, and how you two couldn’t make eye contact for more than a second. with a mischievous smile on her face, she looked at the boy and tugged his shirt “iida, you should tell big (sis/brother)-" she paused before continuing her words as whispers in his ear "that you like them" she looked at you as she pulled away. “tell me what?” the three of you stared at each other in silence and iida thought of every possible, terrible, outcome for a split second before gulping.

“after i drop off eri, would you like to-” he hesitated, searching for the right words “spend some time together?” nodding eagerly, iida and eri’s trip to the store continued, you joining in. once eri was picked up and the two of you got some time alone, you shared some comfortable silence sitting outside of the dorms on the grass. 

“eri told me you really like me” you say quietly yet with a smile, not looking at him out of embarrassment. “perhaps.” he says coldly, worrying that if he put any amount of emotion into his words, he’d be even more embarrassed. “perhaps?” you question, before he clarifies, “yes, i do like you.” you cant help the grin that you make at his words, letting the upper half of your body fall, rolling over to face the ground as you bury your face in your arms.

“i like you too” you let out weakly, not trusting your voice to not give away how happy you are. feeling a nudge on your side, you look up, before being surprised by the big smile on his face. “im happy, then.” 

the two of you were a blushing mess, two fools finally realizing the other likes them just as much as they did. you had eri to thank for being smarter and much bolder than the two of you were. 

[writing-freak]

BNHA Soulmate AU Week Day 4: Save Your Soul

(GIF credit to its owner!!! :) )

Takami Keigo (Hawks) x Reader

Word Count: 1,373

A/N: It’s day 4 of my bnha soulmate au week!! Today’s fic, featuring this cutie, is an au where there are colorful marks on your skin where your soulmate touches you for the first time. Reader has a pair of hands on their waist! They turn black when the soulmate touches them. I love this boy so much, and I had such a fun time writing this, so I hope you guys like it! Remember, I’m taking soulmate au headcannon and imagine requests for BNHA characters in addition to the 3 other fics I have planned for this week! Stay tuned, tomorrow I have a cute drawing one with the lovable idiot, Kaminari! I also have some headcannons for Shinsou and Aizawa coming this evening! If you want to be added to this week’s taglist, or have a request, let me know! Thanks for reading!! :))

Masterlist

Unlike most, you were dreading the day you met your soulmate. You lived in a world in which people wore their soulmarks proudly, and it wasn’t uncommon to find bright marks dotting people’s faces, arms, necks, collarbones. Your mother had a soulmark on her right shoulder, which matched your father’s marks on the tips of his left fingers. You always found her wearing clothes that displayed the dark handprint (dark once it had been touched), never wanting to cover it up.

You, on the other hand, didn’t like people to see your soulmark. Because instead of a handprint on your shoulder, a mark on your hands that you’ve shook, or a brush on your arm where you bump into each other on the street, you had a very different soulmark. Just above your hips, on the sides of your waist, were two big handprints, grabbing you from behind.

You didn’t exactly know the context of when or where or under what circumstances your soulmate would grab you by the hips, but you also weren’t stupid, and the only guesses you could come up with involved your soulmate being some kind of perv. So no, you weren’t looking forward to meeting them.

And it wouldn’t be until you met them that you changed your mind.

You weren’t expecting it to be such a lively day when you woke up that morning, deciding real quick to take a last minute trip to the grocery store before your friends came for dinner that afternoon. It was a pretty mundane morning, to be quite honest, and the most out-of-the-ordinary thing you did was deciding to have a bowl of cereal instead of just your daily cup of coffee for breakfast.

It was sunny out (that was a nice change from the rain you’d been stuck in all week), so you had no problem walking the fifteen minutes or so to the store. It was a decision you made when you were about halfway there that, looking back, may have not been the best choice.

The streets were crowded - it appeared everyone had the same idea as you - and you were becoming uncomfortable with the massive groups. You saw a smaller street ahead, one you recognized from when you had lived in the area as a child, and decided to take a little shortcut (it could hardly be called a shortcut, about ten minutes out of the way).

As you turned onto the street, you realized it had changed a lot over the years. The houses that had once housed families with children your age looked abandoned, and the overgrowth of trees on the sides of the road blocked a lot of the sunlight.

You weren’t even halfway down the road when you decided you were going to turn back.

But when you spun around, quickly, before you could change your mind, you were met face to face with a man you hadn’t realized was right behind you.

There was a flash of pain, and you felt the man’s body connecting with yours. You were tackled off the street, and found yourself on the ground, rubbing your elbows where you had fallen on them. The man had leapt back, and he was facing you with a menacing grin on his face. You struggled to stand, facing the man, who, now that you looked at him, in his strange suit and mask hanging from his face, you realized was a villain.

You were frozen to the spot, unable to move as the villain stared you down. Unfortunately for you, the villain had tackled you into a dark alley, and since you hadn’t been on the main street anyway, you were worried that no one would see you, and no one would come to your rescue. But no matter how much you knew in that moment that your fate rested in your hands, you simply could not move, rooted to the spot by an intense fear sweeping over you.

But your theory about not being seen must have been wrong, for seconds later, you heard a pair of sweeping wings flying over you. You hoped and prayed it was a hero, or a helpful civilian, and not another villain, but based on the man in front of you’s reaction, it wasn’t someone he liked.

The villain lashed out with his quirk, and a pair of steel bars came flying at you. But you heard one more sweep of the wings, and a pair of arms grabbed your waist and flew you out of the way just before the bars could impale your chest.

Despite the circumstances, and your racing heart, your attention immediately went to the hands on your waist, which seemed to be radiating some sort of warmth, a warmth that spread through your entire body. And even as the hands left your waist to wrap around your body, lifting you from the ground to get you further away from the scene, the warmth never left, sending an unexpected sort of comfort with you as you and your savior took to the skies.

You had never liked heights, but it was over in an instant, and you were set onto solid ground (or so you thought, you were a little dizzy from the flight) within seconds. The arms left, and you jumped away, turning to finally get a good look at the person who had saved your life.

You certainly weren’t expected to see the number two pro hero Hawks, with his red wings spreading behind him, his mouth open and his eyes wide with shock.

But a sudden breeze blew over you, stronger than you were used to, and your attention was momentarily brought to your surroundings.

“Are we on a roof?” you asked incredulously, looking around you.

Your words seemed to break the hero in front of you out of his trance, and he frantically began tearing his black gloves off, looking at his hands in amazement. His gaze then shifted to you, and in the time you took to blink, he was right there, holding your waist as he pulled you closer.

“What are you doing?” But Hawks didn’t listen, and he was currently pulling your shirt up, which happened to be tucked into your jeans. Before you could try and push him off, your soulmarks were revealed, and while the wind on your bare skin was biting, as the man, now behind you, fit his fingers over the marks on your skin, where they fit perfectly, a warmth like before spread through you.

The marks had turned black in the time it had taken you to fly to the roof.

His hands were lifted from your skin, and then he was turning you around to face him. But you could only stare into his golden eyes with the same look he had given you before, your mouth hanging open in shock.

He looked more composed, and a sly sort of grin crossed his face as he narrowed his eyes at you. It was all consuming, his gaze, and you felt your breath knocked from your lungs as you couldn’t look away.

His smile never faded, even as he talked, and his eyes were glued to yours, permanently, it seemed. You were way too close for you to focus. “I have a feeling by the look on your face that you know who I am, little dove,” he said, the first words he spoke to you, his voice unexpectedly deep and husky. “But as much as I regret having to say this, I do not know you. Care to introduce yourself to me?”

You realized you couldn’t speak. But as Hawks looked at you expectantly, you cleared your throat. “I-I’m y/n.”

His smile grew wider, if at all possible. “What a lovely name, y/n. I do believe we are soulmates.” You realized suddenly that his arms were still at your sides.

“Don’t you have a patrol to be doing?” you asked nervously, feeling breathless as you felt the distance between your bodies closing, every so slowly.

“I would say that I have a pretty good excuse. It’s not every day you meet the person you’re going to spend the rest of your life with.”

Taglist: @anything-and-everything-here69​ @engel-hageshii​ @mrsreina​ @pm4gal​