#kitten writes 🖤🐈‍⬛ 🖋️

[katsukikitten]

Tomura was lucky, although most would say that he was anything but. 

Unlucky was far more fitting for the young man who lived more tragedies before the age of eight than most lived in entire lifetimes or more. 

Yet still he finds himself at twenty, sitting on a throne way up high, with a sizable army that would bend to his will at the drop of a hat. 

And it only cost him two fingers. 

None of the food, riches, or power compared to his most regarded prize that was given to him. No they all pale in comparison.

A sleeve to be used if he wished but he saw you as more than something that brought relief or euphoria, he saw you as something brighter, better. 

Reminding him of a word he long since abandoned just as it abandoned him. Neglected him. When all he ever wanted was to spread it to the world before the itching just beneath his skin came forth. Forced from his fingertips moments after a resounding slap and an apology from his only sibling.

And it never stopped. The itching, worse and worse each day growing like a beast as it slithers under his skin like a snake. It's scales shed between his nerve endings constantly reminding him that his blunt and cracked nails could do nothing to stop the itch. Not until it was gone. 

Until it was all gone.

Even with the comfort or discomfort, depending on the day, of his family reaching out and yet holding him back, there was only one thought behind those raw ruby eyes. 

Scratch the itch. 

Scratch the itch. 

S̴̛͍̍̿͗̓̑̃c̴̪͑͑ŕ̷̨̛̫̝͓̰͓͙̲̏ͅa̷̢̛̱͚̗̙̣̳͗͂̃̐́̚͝t̸̨̻̗̜̑̍̀͒̀̂̽̅̓c̴͍̖̻̹̣͔̠̿̆͊͛̍͜͝ḧ̴̨̯̪̲̥̱͉́̍̍̽̅̄͝ ̶͎͍̖͉̀̓̔̌̀̅͠͠t̵̞͍̋̉̂͋̀͐́͘̚͠h̸̰̠͕̥̜͍̑̀̃̊̀͑̕e̷̼͇̠̭̅̈͛̃͜ ̵̨̱̩̪͍̀̿̒̽͐͗͠ỉ̵̤̬̳̝̈́̃͐͂̍͊͝͝t̷̛̮̫̀͑̄̾c̸̡̢̖̳̃̊̿̃̾h̷̢͉̰̺̩̯͚͈̗̟̾

It wasn't love at first sight, oh no Shigaraki Tomura knew there was no such thing as love. Twisted sure, manipulative absolutely but true? 

Never. 

Love was as real as any hero or God that he begged to save him when he was nothing more than a street rat to society. 

There was only one emotion that stood true and resounded through his bones. 

Hate. 

A hate that burned so hot it was cold and pulled at the lids of his scarred eyes until everything was seen through a gaze of sheer boredom at best and at worst, when his eyes would widen and all he could see was what the world really was. 

Vile, cruel, and dark. 

Disgusting. 

And so it all deserved to r o t.

It would, by his touch, decay so fast it would be nothing more than ash on his calloused pads and then, only then would he be comforted by the scratch that rakes its nails into his sinew, driving grooves into his bones. 

Then your fingers touched him, your skin against his and for a moment the beast inside him quieted, the itching stopped. Your pretty voice, small, meek, uttering such a pretty name that it made his pulse quicken. 

Beat faster than he'd ever imagined and it only worsened. His condition changed quickly but his goal never wavering. His gaze still dull, filled with disinterest until it landed upon you and then his bloody gaze would come to life. Softening just so and under the silvery rays of the moon you'd think they were gems, pulled from the earth and polished just for you. 

Only for you. 

Little did you know how true that hopeful thought of yours was. Clouding over his desire to scratch with your soft smile and encouraging words, singing praises over something as small as him finishing his soup.

His grip on you tightens, fingers digging into the fat of your hips as you sit on his lap, both of you looking over the throng of people. He resists the urge to place his nose in your throat as he leans closer. 

"Let's go somewhere quieter." He husks in your ear barely heard over the chanting that came from below. 

SHIGARAKI SHIGARAKI SHIGARAKI 

They weren't saying his name right. They never did, yelling out the syllables as spittle collected in the corner of their lips. As if he were their savoir when there was no such thing. 

They wanted him to give them a Genesis. 

When Tomura craved Revelation. 

It angered him, made his fingers twitch, made his nails dig into the deep groves at his throat or under his eye where he was sure to draw blood if your soft, delicate hands hadn't grabbed his wrist and stopped him. 

Guiding you where you think will be your shared room, he made it clear that it was your space as well despite the members of the liberation army hissing at you to keep quiet and wet for him. 

You hadn't expected the softness he showed you, hadn't expected him to leave you untouched despite your advances even after several months of your living with him, even when you pressed against him and you felt his cock swell he would hiss and gently move you to his liking. 

Right to his lap, as if it were your throne, and he would read to you, gravely voice in your ear barely above a whisper, and it never failed to put you to sleep. 

He takes you out of the stuffy hideout into the cool brisk air, shedding his jacket and threading your arms through the fur lined coat before looping his pinky through yours as he guided you to God knows where. Checking over his shoulder once to make sure you were were still there. 

As if you wouldn't follow him through the hell's fire and back, he didn't even have to ask. Just loop his long slender finger through yours. 

The walk is easy enough although long but the stars and moonlight keep you company before the light pollution from the nearby neighborhoods bleed into the wilderness and old cracked streets. 

Abandoned buildings sprinkled between the stretched out branches of trees long since gone, suffocated by a society that demanded near rows outlined by concrete and tar. 

Winking between the sparse branches was an old, small building with a tall steeple. The windows boarded up and the few that weren't  glimmered in dusty reds, faded yellowes and dirty whites, jagged as much as the white haired man's eyes. 

Soon it is obvious he knows this place like the back of his hand, an old refuge it seems. Squeezing your fingers with his before he gently lets go. Looking at you softly before he gives you his back, brushing away some fallen foliage and damp leaves to reveal a cellar door. One he yanks open with ease and he cannot help the satisfied smirk as he thinks about how heavy that wood was when he was much smaller than he is now. 

Taking the first step down while holding out his gloved hand to you. Steadying you as you descend into the darkness without worry or fear, only seeing his two red eyes glowing as if they were your only light and to you they were. 

Four steps down, five steps up and the two of you are at the alter that looks out over old prews. Linen thrown about in an attempt to protect the wood and relics that decorate the hall as if they one day had hoped to return to this place of worship. 

Tomura finds it laughable, those people made up their minds the second they took one look back at this place, that they were going to leave it. 

Abandon it. 

And Tomura found comfort in the fact that even places as profound and sacred as the Church were left to rot into nothing. To be swallowed whole by the ground. 

Earth to Earth,

Ashes to ashes, 

Dust to dust

The only thing Tomura didn't believe in was the "certain hope of the Resurrection to eternal life." 

Hope. 

That's the word he abandoned in this place when the bibles and hymnals promised salvation but nothing came. 

No one came. 

Shimura Tenko died a long, long time ago. 

In this very spot. 

Yet when he turns to you, when he comes closer and sees the stars and moon dancing in your eyes as if they were envious of you, his brows furrow. His grip tightens and his chest seems to shrink while his heart swells in great agony. 

Hope, love, these were things he had let go of, things he let die. 

Yet resurrection seems to sit upon your lips, eternal life making your eyes aglow and salvation must be hidden between your thighs. 

"This was once my sanctuary. I didn't believe in gods or deities." He comes closer, gently tilting your chin up towards him as he looks at you with a light, with a hunger, you've never seen before, his gravelly voice echoes in the chill of the hall. His lips inches from yours. 

"But I'm ready to worship now."

@cwtomura because let's be honest, I write him for you 🖤 I know it's mellow dramatic and overly poetic but I hope you like it 🥺

[katsukikitten]

It starts with his thumb. Pressing the calloused pad onto the wet muscle, you lazily swirling around the digit and he imagines you're doing it to his cock.

In your head you are, hoping he'll reward you with his dick shoved down your throat but for the past few days it's been this.

His thumb sliding over your bottom lip, admiring the look before slowly pushing in and pressing. You'll swirl your tongue and his brows will furrow. He'll then withdraw his thumb and insert his fingers into your warm, wet mouth. Inching in his middle and ring fingers slowly, so very slowly, as if experimenting on how much it takes you to gag as if he didn't already know.

And when you do gag, he has to stop himself from rutting into your thigh or the bed, he doesn't want his desire to distract him from the cause of it. From the sight of you, gagging around his fingers as you try to swallow your extra spit. But instead it coats his slender fingers in stringy slickness, it falls down your chin and darkens the fabric of the sheets. It makes tears come into your eyes after he thrusts his fingers into your throat, grazing the back of it and his brows twitch again when you gag and cough around him. Throat constricting the tips of his digits and he imagines the tightness of your greedy swallows around the aching head of his cock. Still, ever his good love, you continue to try to hallow your cheeks, suck and swirl through the abuse you love.

Slowly sliding in and out until he's finger fucking your mouth with a fervor. Watching you gag and shake from the force, watching the pearly tears slip down your cheeks, your nails biting into his wrist as you try to calm him down but he can't. His stone cold face, his dark gaze and furrowed brows makes it seem as if he does not care.

But when a heavy tremor wracks through your body and a moan from how turned on you are despite the mess he's made of you.

Hot ropes of white coat his boxers, making the fabric stick to his twitching cock and tight sac. He pants now, composure lost as he continues to finger fuck your mouth until you're giving out choked sobs begging him for more.

And when he's hard again, he'll give you more.

it’s 6am and i’m thinking about choking on megumi’s fingers

[seishirokitten]

Nagi is the type of man to make you cry the first time be degrades you. His voice so cold and serious even as sweat drips down hair and forehead, always dragging out sex with you. Likes to see how many times he can get you to cream his cock. Likes when little tears cling to your long lashes.

But recently you've asked for more, for something a little different. To talk down to you while his necklace with the nickname he gave you swings in your face.

"So stupid for my cock aren't you? Just a dirty slut who wants to cum as many times as she can. Does it even matter if it's with me or not?" His hand comes to wrap around your throat as his speaks, squeezing as tightly as your cunt squeezes him.

His eyes hooded with his bored gaze, like he's bored with you and his words sting, his delivery cold and nonchalant as if nothing he ever said to you mattered.

It makes a sob rack through your body competing with a shudder of pleasure, fat thick tears slipping from your pretty eyes.

Tears much bigger than Nagi has ever seen and it has him coming closer, pressing his cheek against yours as his eyes glow like they do when he's hungry for more.

"You're crying because it's true." Dark velvet voice doesn't even pose it as a question, "I should give you to Reo he loves to play with pretty girl's pussies who are as slutty as you."

"N-not true." You say so small, so weakly and it has Nagi's cock jumping in your tight cunt that only gets tighter with his words. He's sure he's made you cum the first time he spoke down to you, you're shaking under him again. He's still got your throat, all his weight on his other arm. Coming away from you just enough so he can see your face contort when he speaks.

"Shut up." It's icy and sharp, "I don't want to hear you talk, I just want to hear you moan. Now be the greedy slut I know you are and cream on my cock."

Your back arches as your nails dig into the skin at his back, deep red lines following their wake as you shake beneath him. Coil in your stomach snapping again as you flutter around him involuntarily with a rasped scream of his name, the sound mostly trapped under Nagi's broad hand.

You squeeze him so tightly, look up at him with so much hurt in your eyes it makes him feel dizzy, crazed. Lower abdomen tightening in time with his sac as he feels you get impossibly wetter for him. Leaning down to lick at a stray tear and when he hears you whimper he can't hold back anymore.

"Fuck." Groaning in your ear before he gently bites at the juncture of your shoulder and throat. Painting your soft walls with white hot ropes. Thrusting slowly as often as he can until both of you are shaking from overstimulation before he collapses on top of you with a grunt. Pulling out slowly before pressing into you further.

"What a hassle my princes is." He says it with no real annoyance, softly even, as if he had said he loved you instead, before his voice gets deep.

That rare possession he gets when it comes to you, regarding you with the same want, desire and need to have you as an goal, win, or trophy. Filling him with an ambition that can only be awakened or provoked in the normally relaxed, bored gazed man. Especially as he remembers what he said, how tightly you squeezed him when he said he'd loan to you his best friend trying to remind you and himself exactly who you were.

"My princess. "

[yakumokitten]

Synopsis: Even with his insatiable hunger to be the best, University doesn't get any easier for Yakumo. Inspiration comes and goes in ever fleeting moments as he uses his paints to drown out the buzzing in his head. It isn't until he runs into you does he find what seems like endless inspiration. A Goddess with beauty unrivaled. And it helps that you find his arrogance endearing and motivating for your own works, agreeing to use one another as a temporary muse. But as each rendezvous becomes more and more frequent it leaves the two artist pondering over the meaning of temporary.

Warnings: Smut, 18+, don't get oil paints on your skin and hair.

"You've been staring at that canvas forever." You comment, standing behind the shirtless man who crouches in front of the largest canvas you've ever seen. Red flecks of oil paint long since dried on his bare chest, cheek, and his ugly pair of Crocs. Paint, mind you, that shouldn't be on skin long. The strong pungent smell clotting the air and his down cast head reminds you of other great artists. Of the turbulent lives they lead and some to the point they'd swallow globs of their yellow paints in hopes of finding happiness. You were lucky this one wasn't nearly as downtrodden, hardly ever if you were being honest.

You watch the outstretched wings on his back twitch with each flex of his muscles. The large owl on his back offering no wisdom to him.

"I know." He sighs out, looking at the large washed over canvas.

"You've painted over it like three times..."

"I know." He grunts standing up, patting himself down for his smokes. When he comes up empty he sighs even louder, head hung as he looks up to the sky, his earrings dancing from the motion.

"You got any..." He turns to face you and can't help the smile that blooms on his face. Lips pulled back over his canines as he looks at your crossed arms and the plastic convenience store bag in your manicured nails.

"Aw how'd you know I haven't eaten yet?" He chuckles and then his stomach growls, especially telling on him now.

"Because you always forget to eat when you get like this." You drop the bag of cigarettes, instaramen, and the can of beer at his feet before turning on your heel. He laughs loudly, bending over to move the bag behind his supplies.

"Don't be like that." He can't help his smile at your pout as he pulls you against his bare chest, the sleeves of his overalls tied around his waist. He kisses your neck gingerly before his sharp teeth graze over your pulse point.

"Hey." You hiss but make no move to free yourself from his strong arms. He takes that as invitation, kissing up your throat and then your jaw before he turns your cheek, looking deeply into your eyes.

His favorite work of art to date.

"Come on, you know you help clear my head." He kisses you then, letting his tongue slide over yours as you mewl when his large hand palms your breast, "It's so loud in there lately..."

It had been like this hadn't it? Almost like a transaction between the two of you, since the two of you met in your first year of university. Now a year later nothing had changed aside from the frequency of how often the two of you showed up at the others place. One always bearing a gift, a pack of smokes, a candy bar, some sort of sustenance for a starving artist to survive on. Bragging, arguing really, over who's art is better.

You say nothing back, just bring your hand up and twist your fingers in his black hair, staring into his twilight eyes before you push his face towards you. He kisses you again, this time with more urgency. More hunger, with desperation of silencing the long string of thoughts in his mind. Of feeling that damn marble smooth skin beneath his callous hands as he drowns in the feelings and sounds of a Goddess.

He flips you around, startling you, causing your hand to reach out for anything before it lands in an array of colored oils before you reach behind you to stabilize yourself. Although you don't need to with how strongly his gripping onto you. As if you could turn back into seafoam between his fingers and he would lose you to the churning seas of Poseidon. His hands make quick work of his overalls as they fall to his ankles, before reaching under your sun dress to hastily move your underwear to the side. Normally he would take the time to worship your pretty cunt properly. To lick and stroke the glistening folds until you squirmed under his strong hands and soaked whatever surface was beneath you. Sheets and couch cushions be damned.

But today you can tell he needs you, needs to be buried deeply within you until he couldn't think. Until all his thoughts were consumed by you. He looks at you for a moment before he spits between the two of you onto his aching cock. Giving it a quick pump just to coat himself in something before he lines it up to your tight entrance. Bullying his way into you, swirling your throbbing clit to distract you from the pain. He gently thrusts into you until the bite of your nails on his back lightens and the painful throb ebbs into a delicious pleasure.

Setting a brutal pace, angling his cock just right to watch your eyes roll into the back of your head as he fucks into you with vigor, thick fingers still swirling over your clit.

Despite his obnoxious attitude, in the bedroom he's a gentleman, firmly believing that it should always be ladies first. He watches your face of the tell tale signs of your orgasm, of your mouth parting into such a pretty O, in how your eyes flutter and your nails scratch along the inky feathers of the owl on his back. The coil in your stomach grows tighter and tighter as your lay your head back, crying out his name.

"Yakumooooo ♡" The way you feel wrapped around his thick length drives him mad. Huffing in your ear as he presses sloppy kisses to your throat.

"That's it, pretty girl. Let it all out." He grunts, holding back his release as he wills another one from you with the speed of his fingers and thrusts. Pleasure washes over you again as your cunt grabs onto him harder just to flutter around him once more. He groans in your ear before pulling back to stare into your eyes as he fucks you through another and another. Before your hands fall away from his shoulders.

He moves his hand from your soaking cunt to one of your hands. Bringing it up beside your head as he laces his fingers with yours, squeezing your fingers as his breath comes out in rasps. He's close, so fucking close. You knit your eyebrows as you feel his cock twitch inside you, leaning to press your forehead against his own sweaty one.

"Cum for me." You whisper feather soft and your wish is his command. He unravels, painting your walls in hot shades of white, slipping in those stupid crocs as his hand slides up from yours onto the canvas behind him. Deep twilight eyes stare into yours as he sighs softly, as if every loud buzzing thought had died in his head, leaving nothing behind but a wash of peaceful calm.

Fucking you felt the same as painting.

Although lately he would argue that the former was easier.

He gives a soft smile, moving his hand from yours to pat your hair and when it comes back with swatches of yellows, reds and oranges his smile fades.

"Shi-shit." He gently pulls you towards him, reaching down with the hand not covered in paint to pull up his overall jump suit. Making quick work of tucking his spent cock away before tying the thick fabric around his waist. He reaches for a clean rag before he gently tries to remove the oils from your hair.

"Sorry Venus." The pet name he uses when he's particularly in trouble. You suck your teeth before gently pushing him away.

"It's fine. It happens to me all the time." You dab as much of the paint as you can out before he pulls you by your hip to his. His other hand cocked on his muscular waist as he looks over the giant canvas.

"We make great art." He whispers in your ear with a tease before he nibbles at the shell. Your eyes study the piece, the obvious shape of your palm in warm rich sunset colors, of his and yours up further before you realize that the wash of the canvas hadn't yet dried before he pressed you to it in his reckless thirst.

How there is an outline of a crescent of your ass and part of your thigh, both shoulders and even the outline of hair and the thin straps of your dress.

"Damn it. This was a new dress!" You hiss, foolishly looking over your shoulder to see the oils had bled into the yellow fabric.

"Don't worry. No one will know it was you." He kisses your cheek, "As long as I walk you home after dark."

He laughs then and you give him a feral snarl as you take wet paint from your hair and press it onto his cheeks.

"Yea well. If you get a good mark just know you owe it all to me!"

Art in Banner, The Birth of Venus

[katsukikitten]

Okay but imagine 👀

Two different underground rings, both the champs of their weight class, joining together because the fighting ring heads argued over who had the better champions in a drunken stupor.

Finding a neutral ground for the cage in a shitty warehouse outside of the city limits. It's fuckin packed, the odds are so fucking close so whoever wins is about to make someone a good bit of money.

People are jeering, shaking the cage and screaming but all Bakugou can see is Kunigami and all Kunigami can see is Bakugou.

Hands wrapped, no gloves, no pads and you aren't even sure if they have mouth guards.

The whistle blows and Bakugou, ever the aggressor, swings first and gives Kunigami the punch of his fucking life. Kunigami can't remember the last time someone hit him that hard, let alone get an actual hit in.

Okay but who is gonna win in a fist fight for your love

Kunigami or Katsuki?

Mate the thought of either of them getting a black eye or something in a fight over me is so hot.

No quirks, Kuni is giving Bakugou a run for his money.

[katsukikitten]

Freshman year of college you hear all about the "bone yard" some cave some where on campus that you have to crawl through for a bit until you get to a small opening that's tall enough to stand in with a random mattress and couch in the middle.

Bestie Denki invites you out in the middle of the night to go find it just for fun, for the "adventure" and some how after a half an hour of exploring you find the opening, littered with old bottles and a few ancient playboys.

It's not even anything romantic at all if anything it's just some space some frat boys in the 70s probably lived up their best days.

Yet some how you find yourself, looking down into those electric golden eyes as you bounce on Denki's cock, grunts and moans echoed back to the two of you.

[katsukikitten]

Izuku who knows you aren't a huge fan of the holiday but tries his best to make it the very best FOR YOU.

Making you dinner or ordering your favorite take out. Taking the hoodie off he's been wearing all day to get to smell like him and shoving you into it the second you get come in the door.

Even drawing you a nice hot bath where he makes you a mixed drink and let's you decompress from your long and shitty day.

"Ya know who this kinda reminds me-." You clear your throat, tears starting to collect in your eyes. He can tell you want to say something more but Izuku lets sleeping dogs lie, "Thank you, Zuzu really."

Besides he knows what you're going to say, you're going to say this reminds you of how your ex used to treat you.

And Izuku knows, because he used to date Bakugou too.

Filling his shoes is hard and yes Bakugou keeps the ones he loves so frustratingly close and yet always at arms length. But he didn't used to always be this way. He used to love fiercely and with his whole heart.

He loved Izuku and he sure as hell loved you but Katsuki has never been the same after his parents died unexpectedly.

And he never will either.

Staring up at the ceiling of his bathroom, garnet eyes cutting into the tile as he sits in the bath. The water filled with a mix of your old body wash and Izuku's has long since been cold but that doesn't stop the ash blonde from pushing his head under the sudsy water to stop himself about thinking about you and Izuku kissing.

[katsukikitten]

"Do you wanna know what hell is Katsuki? Real Hell?!" You're panting, dirt and sweat caked to your face before you pull in air to explain to him what he could obviously never understand or even begin to fathom.

"It's screaming in the middle of this broken city, attracting all the undead, the zombies, whatever the fuck you want to call them and when they come, when they fuckin swarm you, you are supposed to meet them with open arms but instead your mind goes blank and when you come back to reality," You gesture to the pile of fallen rotting corpses, "they lie dead at your feet. It's the in between of it all. Mind whispering for you to kill yourself and yet it forces your body to move, to survive. To helplessly, aimlessly, hopelessly, push through it all and forcing you to live just to start the cycle agian."

"It's being strong enough to save yourself but too weak to save anyone else. Tell me what worse hell is there than that?"

[katsukikitten]

Salvation

My Hands Only

CLIP THAT : Tomura's Route

Perversion

Stalker

[katsukikitten]

Teasing Bakugou, your husband of almost ten years, with a harmless prank by asking him "What do you think about sleeping in separate rooms?"

And he turns to you, giving you the WORST grimace he has and says immediately "Shut the fuck up." As he always does when you say something off the wall he knows you don't mean.

"No babe I'm serious they say we'll sleep better-"

"We'll sleep better? We'll fuckin sleep better? Are they us now?" He's rolling his eyes and back to his tasks, "Nah one room."

"Okay what about separate beds then?"

"What? Get the fuck outta here."

"Yea, like bunk beds or something." He freezes, shirtless and in his grey sweatpants, pausing his task of the dishes, even turning off the water so he can hear your answer to his question better.

"Yer telling me ya want fuckin bunk beds in our room? How are we gonna fuck baby? Ya gonna hang off the side of the top bunk and I eat it? Dumb ass."

You of course stick to the bit.

"But then we'd have our space to go if we argue."

"Are we arguing?"

"No-"

"Then we ain't changing shit. End of discussion." He then turns on the water and mumbles to himself "Fuck outta my face, bunk beds, separate bedrooms and shit."

Reckon it makes his blood pressure high enough he has to add one more thing.

"And another thing little miss cries on the phone when I can't come home from my monthly night hero shift cause it's hard to sleep without me. How the fuck would ya manage two nights without me when we've been sleeping together for a full fuckin decade."

"Deku body pillow." He blows up the plate in his hand, turns off the water and launches himself over the counter peninsula to pin you to the soft couch where he can tickle you and smack your ass until you admit defeat, "Okay okay! A Dynamight body pillow!"

He let's up, scarred chest all puffed out before he huffs

"Yer god damn right." His strong fingers squeezing your cheeks and puckering your lips, "Sides yer not sleeping in any bed but ours. Got it, princess?"

[katsukikitten]

Sticky, hot, sweaty summer sex in the middle of a humid night where it's threatening to rain from the looming dark clouds blocking out the moon.

Dragon King Bakugou thrusts into you as your face is buried into the linens and furs that line his bed, the rain slowly falling drop by drop on the cloth roof overhead but the two of you won't get soaked as the droplets roll off the taunt and treated fabric.

The area only gets hotter with each wanton moan and grunt the two of you make, his heavy sac, meant to breed, slaps into your soaked clit with each rough rut emphasizing the squelch of your pretty cunt.

"That's fuckin right, take what I give you." Each word punctuated by a harsh roll of his hips, you've creamed his cock countless times, the thatch of blonde hair above this thick length is smeared in it and every now and again he leans back to watch himself disappear into you.

The sight is enough to make him cum.

But not yet, since you made a silly little bet with your betrothed that he couldn't even make you cum once to which he said I'll have you begging for more

"Please, please." Come your sorry cries and all he can do is smirk. He's fisting your hair, pulling you up to look at him as he leans over you, tears streaking down your face,

"Now ya know, Princess, the King is always right."

[katsukikitten]

Bakugou is the type of man where the most mundane moment turns him on.

Freshly out of a shower just getting back from the beach or pool on vacation. Talking about dinner plans while you're drying your hair. Both of you talking idly in the mirror as you get ready.

"How far away is the place?" He asks, "I need to know so I can tell your slow ass to start getting ready a half hour before hand."

"Fuckin rude. My shoes are always on before yours."

"Yea cause I hound ya. Check the location. Phones on the bed." He nods to the giant king bed he can see in the reflection of the mirror. Watching you place your knees on the bed to reach for the phone. Your ass in the air but that isn't the only thing that's got his cock hard. Oh no

See, Katsuki can see that diamond ring, the only thing you have on, that he gave you four years ago, sparkling in the late afternoon light. The sight of it makes both his cock and heart swell.

But before you reach the cell you're suddenly being dragged to the edge of the bed by strong calloused hands. His hard cock pressing into your folds and he delights in your squeak of "Suki!"

The sound spurs him on, rutting against your sex and when you become a little wet he pulls away to slowly drag his fingers from your leaking cunt to your clit. Working over the now throbbing nub until you're gripping at the sheets, until you're cumming and he can watch your cunt clench painfully around nothing.

Not even giving you a moment to catch your breath before he bullies his way into your pretty pussy. Groaning in time with you as he feels the ebb of your orgasm before he sets a deadly pace. Fucking into you with vigor. Making your back arch even as you try to find purchase on the bed to press back against him so that you don't lose a moment of closeness.

Reaching over you to bite and nip at your shoulders and throat. Large left hand lacing his fingers through yours so that his band and yours can clink in time with his thrusts while all he can think is my wife my wife my fucking sexy wife.

"Gonna be a good girl and cream your husband's cock?" He husks in your ear, watching your eyes roll into the back of your head, "Need a little more help? You've always been my dirty slut. Glad wifin ya didn't change a fuckin thing."

He puts even more of his weight on you as your struggle to keep his large body and your own shaking one up, his hand pawing at your tits and pulling your nipple taunt before it wraps around your throat. Choking you just enough your moans sound strained causing him to twitch in your cunt.

"Go on then." It shouldn't be this easy for him, your body shouldn't react this way but it always has even if you two started out with daggers in your eyes for one another instead of hearts.

"Cum for yer husband."

Your eyes flutter and roll into the back of your head as a silent scream rips through you, cunt clamping down on his fat length, desperately trying to milk him. Hard enough it sends him over the edge too, even though he fucks into you more even if it makes both of you twitch collapsing onto the bed from the overstimulation and his weight. He stays like that a moment, kissing at your cheeks and tilting your face to him.

He smiles at you, not his cocky smirk or his shit eating grin, he genuinely fucking smiles, his silent way of telling you he loves you. Looking at you like you were the only thing that has ever and could ever make him happy. He kisses you again. Slowly pulling his softening cock out and keeping you pressed comfortably to the mattress.

Before you know it his phone is in his hand, taking a selfie of the two of you sweaty from your quick romp before he quickly looks up the address of the place, not once letting go of your left hand.

"Damn it's gonna get busy soon." He tosses his phone back onto the bed as he squeezes your fingers one last time before getting up.

Letting his broad palm swing down on to the fat of your ass cheeks causing you to yelp.

"Come on pretty girl. Ya better get ready soon, I wanna take my hot wife out on a date before I eat her out for dessert in the car."

[katsukikitten]

Handing Katsuki father's day cards that are for his own dad or yours and he needs to "read and sign it" but as he's reading it his brow starts to furrows.

"Sweetheart, ya got the wrong cards." He's reading it for the third time now.

"I got the right ones." You're trying not to giggle before he's rolling his eyes and reading the card aloud.

"You're not just an amazing father," he flips it open, "You're going to be an amazing grandfather too."

"Yea baby that's the right card." You hum, stepping into the kitchen to get the final card and present.

"Baby, it isn't. We don't have kids. Unless ya mean our cats but then they've been grandparents." He tosses the card down, rising to help you find the backups he's assuming you're looking for. This wasn't the first year you'd accidently gotten the wrong card or one that was just slightly off, he thinks nothing of the message.

Barely had any caffeine as the two of you rose early to get ready to host his parents and yours.

"Katsuki, it is the right card." You say, pressing another card into his hands, no envelope or anything. Just thick white card stock with black letters and an image of white new balance shoes.

"It's almost time for these bad boys." He scoffs, looking at what the world has deemed the official dad shoe, he looks up to see a box in your hands, "Sweetheart, what the fuck? I hate these ugly ass shoes. Ya know that."

He's got this smile to his face the one where he thinks you're being too playful and silly, every now and again you two get each other gag gifts. You're surprised he hadn't caught on yet especially since you always joked that the second you knew, you'd be getting him "those ugly ass dad shoes."

"I know." You both share a laugh, you pressing the shoe box into hands, "Just open it. They'll be fun to wear today, goes with the theme."

"What's the fuckin theme? Dads?" He opens the box and sees the shoes but something is taped to the top of the box. A grainy picture in black and white, a blob in the circle and when he lets his eyes focus as best they can without his glasses perched on his nose, he thinks he sees a very specific shape.

He rips it from the box, bringing the film closer and yes he can see a nose and his face morphs into complete surprise. You giggle as you watch him figure it out, which you swore you wouldn't be able to get this far without him figuring out why you'd been feeling so sick lately.

"No fuckin way." It's low and for a split second you think he isn't excited, then he locks eyes with you and he gives you that look. The one where he's smiling but his brows furrow up and his eyes aglow with unshed tears like you are his world, like you're giving him the world, and he's putting the shoes down to gently pick you up and twirl you around.

"A baby. We're having a fucking baby." He's pressing kisses to your cheeks when he sets you on your feet, if you thought you were spoiled before you'd be rotten by the time this pregnancy was done.

"A baby." You repeat back to him, your own excited tears clinging to your lashes, ones Katsuki gently kisses away.

"How long?"

"Three months. It was really hard to keep a secret but I really wanted to do that shoe thing I teased you about. I've got the receipt so we can return them I'll-"

"Nah I've got the perfect idea for 'em."

An hour later after a shared shower and rapid fire questions, Bakugou is coming down the stairs, he's got some ugly ass jean jorts you gifted him as a gag for his birthday two years ago before giving him his real gift and one of his dad's old white tees he tucked into the waist band of the shorts and of course his new white new balance shoes.

"You look ridiculous." You giggle in your sundress, somehow he made the outfit a little hot. You were sure Bakugou could make anything look hot and here was living proof.

"Better get used to it Sweetheart, this is how I'm gonna look when I put another one in ya." He puffs his chest out, smoothing his big palms over his shirt as you roll your eyes.

"I've made a monster." The door bell rings, when you go to rise, Katsuki gently presses you back into the couch by your shoulder as he gets the door for his parents. He opens the door with a sense of pride that comes with being the cocky pro hero, looking much larger than life.

His mother is unphased.

"Oi, I brought that stuff you- Why are you dressed like a fuckin dad from the 90s?" Mitsuki makes a face before she processes what he's wearing, "Oh my fucking GOD OH MY FUCKING GOD MASARU! WE'RE GONNA BE GRANDPARENTS. YER GONNA BE A GRANDPA! RIGHT RIGHT?"

She pushes past her son, a quick squeeze to his forearm before she's honing in on the daughter in law she already adored and now even more.

Masaru quirks his brow and Katsuki nods.

"I'm so happy for you son." He hugs Katsuki the way men do, a quick tight squeeze before a clap on the back, Masaru tries not to let the tears slip past his eyes as Katsuki's life plays on fast forward in Masaru's mind. He remembers how Mitsuki told him they were expecting, remembers holding him for the first time and thought his whole world view shattered and changed. Remembers his first words and steps. Remembers his first mishap with his quirk and how Katsuki had blown the coffee table sky high. He remembers him growing taller and taller, going to UA, figuring out how to be a better person as he grew in size. How Katsuki called him and his ma in the middle of the night the first time he hit the top ten rankings. And again when he was number one.

How he took his dad out to lunch, wiping his palms on his pants like he did when he was nervous to ask his dad how he asked Mitsuki to marry him. He smiles, tears slip past anyway as he stares at his broad shouldered son adding one final comment that makes Katsuki's throat close up in the best way.

"I can't wait to watch them grow up to be as great as their parents and more."

[katsukikitten]

Summer naps with Bakugou where the two of you cat nap in the afternoon.

Where his big palms are gently resting against you or his arm as he holds you and yes he does cause a sticky sweat between y'all's skin.

How you two float in and out of sleep and sometimes he'll grab at your tits or cup your mound until finally he's had his fill of napping and hungry enough to grind his fingers against your cunt. Moving the underwear to the side to plunge into your heat until you're soaking the sheets under you.

Sometimes he'll leave it at that, other times Bakugou will climb on top of you, slot his big body between your legs that you wrap around his waist and lock your ankles while he slides into you in one harsh thrust. Teasing you by not moving at first, rubbing his thumb over your clit until you're creaming his cock before he starts a deadly pace.

Then the two of you pant when he gets you to cum with him. Peppering searing kisses across your sweaty skin and even collapses on top of you just to hear you whine how hot you are. Feel you weakly push at his bulky body. He'll bite at the juncture at your throat for trying to push him away, for you to arch your back before he slides out.

"Shower?" His first words to you since the two of you woke up, you nod, "Hungry?"

You nod harder and he chuckles. Grabbing at his phone to order take out while he corrals you into the shower that you set to a cooler setting. As he's rinsing his hair you'll ask him stupid questions like, "Would you still love me if" scenarios and he'd roll his eyes at each one, quirking a brow at the spicy ones. Like "would you ever spit on me if I asked?" And he'll give you a glance, seeing your tits and spitting on them without hesitation. "Yea I would." Is his reply before he sprays his spit off of you with a smirk at your angry pout before he lathers your pink poof for ya with your fragrant shower gel.

Then y'all will have dinner on the couch finding some random movie to watch with hair dripping on your shoulders. The sun will set, bleeding into the living room, Bakugou will look over at you. You never mind the sun in your eyes and Katsuki is thankful for it. How the rays always seem to kiss you gently, how it makes your eyes aglow in pretty hues, dancing on your cheeks and when you look at him, give him that smile that makes his heart swell and ache all is right in the world.

He leans over to kiss you and in a few hours before bed he'll help you find your moon, kissing the top of your head as he says

"Thanks for givin me another good fuckin day off Sweetheart."

[katsukikitten]

Thinking about Katsuki showing up on your balcony late at night, knuckles knocking at the glass door beside your bed waking you up with a surge of adrenaline.

He's tired from his hero work and he hasn't had a chance to see you in weeks, not that he was obligated, the two of you using each other for weeks.

The real shock comes to you as you see pro hero Dynamight glaring at you from the cold, welcoming him into your apartment and realizing quickly that you've been fuck buddies with a pro and this is how you've found out.

He doesn't speak, he's tired, utterly exhausted and for some reason his tired body brought him here. Normally, when he'd show up at the front door of your apartment, he was on you in a second, making your knees weak with teeth gnashing kisses.

Tonight he looks dead on his feet.

"You okay?" Your voice is feather soft at 3am and when he doesn't answer you decide silence is best for now. Grabbing onto his large fingers only made larger by his gloves. Guiding him to your bathroom where you crank the shower and turn the light on low.

Here you can see the blood, dust, and grime that sticks to his hero uniform, one of the long sleeves ripped or burned away. Hopefully from his own quirk.

Gingerly you start with his gloves. Pulling at the Velcro at his wrists, shimming them off slowly as if he were a startled animal. He just looks down at you with this look in his eyes you can place, you just know it makes your stomach churn with far too many emotions.

Next you grab onto his heavy gauntlets, careful to set them down easily when you hear them slosh with sweat that he'd later deem too old and dangerous to keep but for now he lets your hands work. Manicured fingers undoing his grenade belt, placing them on top of his bracers, then the piece at his shoulders, before bending over to grab his steel knee pads.

Hooking your finger into he tongue of his steel toe combat boots, undoing the knot and loosing the strings while gently guiding his weight to one foot and then the other to remove them. Then again, pulling off his socks with ease placing them in your dirty hamper even if they'd make the whole thing smell like caramel and musk.

Pushing the hem of his shirt up, revealing the hard plans of his body. The one he earned through hard work and resolve. Discipline that he executed in every aspect of his life except with you.

He helps you by raising his arms until that too ends up in the basket in your linen closet. As if you'd do the laundry for his hero uniform.

Like he belonged here. Solidifying the fleeting thought when you pull his pants and boxers down, tossing them in before shutting the closet door.

When you go to leave he grabs onto the crook of your arm, still looking down at you from the corner of his eye with that sad, angry and almost numb look, like his eyes were dying embers.

"You'll stay." Only Bakugou has the ability to pose what is normally a question into a statement, a command and yet he doesn't sound demanding tonight.

So you stay, turning back around and when you realize he isn't getting under the burning hot stream of water, you begin to strip from your underwear and one of his old t shirts you managed to steal.

Grabbing onto his fingers, stepping into the shower and when the steam hits his back he audibly groans, similar to the sound he makes when he sinks into you.

After a few long moments you let your hand grab at the nape of his neck, pulling him to you as you later your heavily scented shampoo in your hands. He tries not to let his cock jump at the domesticity, at the idea that he'll smell like you for hours after.

Let's your nails rake at his scalp and lather his hair before you force him to rinse, repeating again when you decide he's dirty enough for a second wash through.

Lathering the conditioner with care and making him step just out of the stream as you grab your body wash. Another sigh leaves him as he watches you. He knows from your perspective all Bakugou can see you as is a sex object, a cock sleeve, but from the second he first slipped into your heat it was anything but.

It's why he kept coming back.

You drew the line in the sand after the second time, "fuck buddies don't catch feelings right?" "Right." He had confirmed gruffly, like he didn't already think he was falling for you. He knows it seems he always left right away but eventually, over the past few months, he left some things. That shirt you peel off your pretty skin not too long again for starters. He'd cook you meals for the week with the excuse that it was so you'd stay healthy enough to take his cock.

But really he was tired of seeing the evidence of take out or quick meals in your trash can and the bags under your eyes. Since he's been leaving the prepped containers for you, your health has seemed to improve.

It stings when you go over his shoulder, a small gash he didn't know he had and you care for it gently.

"It's deep." Concern in your tone as you talk to yourself, "It shouldn't need stitches...."

Your brows are furrowed up, biting your pouty bottom lip between your teeth as you think. But all he can think about is you, you, you.

And how you make him feel and how the last thing you said to him, although you truly do not remember, is I love you while his hand was around your throat.

The three words claw up his, raw and biting tired of being shoved down deep into his belly where butterflies die the second they're born.

"I love you." It slips past his tired tongue, his body weak from the sight of you combined with his 48 hour on call shift.

You look up at him, shocked, tears pricking your eyes in disbelief as you blink furiously, "What?"

A bit of his roughness returns to his stiff limbs, fingers grabbing at your jaw like he does when he doesn't approve of your response when you fuck.

"I said," He's growling, brushing his nose gently with yours, "I love you."

He doesn't give you room to reply or reject him, his lips finding yours, pressing hard enough your teeth gnash against his. Tongue claiming his stake on what's his making you sigh into his lips as the realization hits you.

Maybe, just maybe, he's always loved you.

[katsukikitten]

"M-More." You plead as Bakugou fucks into you with harsh slow ruts.

He roughly covers your mouth with his hot palm, stilling his hips as he comes closer to your face. Glaring at you, taking in your fucked out expression, the sweat making your hair stick to your skin and the pearly tears clinging to long lashes. It's insane how he doesn't even look fazed, as if your tight cunt squeezing and pulling him back in with each rut feels no better than his fist. It makes your eyes flutter with embarrassment and shame.

"Cock sleeves don't talk." He growls and when you don't respond he lets his fingers harshly tap against your cheek, "Oi, nod if you understand."

You give a frantic nod, his hand still covering your mouth before he moves his hips. Letting his swollen cock head hit against the pulsing spongy spot in your dripping pussy.

Silently arching your back as you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from moaning.

But it's like a game to him and he ruts over it slower and harsher until you're hot to the touch, your eyes rolled back from how good he edges you and tears you. Waiting to capture the smallest moan with his hand before he speeds up his pace.

Pounding into you until the humidity of your panting collects on his palm, still echoing around the room before he moves his burning palm to your throat.

"Can't make a sound if ya can't fuckin breathe, yea?" He gives a cruel barking laugh before he squeezes just enough that your once loud moans can only be rasped breaths.

Secretly he loves the sounds you make but that's the problem. It's hard enough for him to fuck you were he can see your pretty face contorting in pleasure that his cock brings out but the sounds. God the sounds is what makes his heart beat faster, what makes his composure slip each time you try to keep your eyes on his while you cum, begging him for more like he wasn't already fucking you brain dead.

He watches himself disappear into you, watches the creamy ring at the base of his cock grow thicker and his sac wetter from your arousal. The resounding slap echoing in your apartment competing with the snap of the head board as he comes closer to you as your back arches and a silent scream rips up your throat. Convulsing around his thick length as he fucks you through yet another orgasm.

"That's it, cream my cock, let's see this slutty pussy try to milk me." He says as pulls out only for your cunt to suction him back in, leaking around him and down to your ass. He wants to pound into you untill all you can do is take it before pulling out and fisting his cock so he blows his fat load all over your pretty stomach and tits. If he's lucky he'll cum hard enough it'll hit your chin and lips again.

But tonight is different as he applies more pressure to your throat, watching you fade in and out as your claws bite into his forearms, shaking for him as if he brought you so much pleasure your body simply couldn't process it. He has to see more, needs to see more despite the coil in his stomach tightening in time with his sac.

He should pull out but when he glances up at your face, hoping to see your tongue lulling out of your mouth with a string of drool he watches your lips form something instead while your eyes roll into your head.

I love you.

And Bakugou Katsuki cums, hard. Grunting and growling as his cock spills his hot seed into your pretty pussy. Still rocking his hips as he lets up on your throat to hear your hoarse sounds, obvious now that you don't even know what you were saying when you can barely form his name as he overstimulates himself. Groaning as his sensitive tip slides through your velvet warmth until he can't take it anymore.

Collapsing on top of you like he's never done before. You two were just fuck buddies, you remind yourself that when he presses his face into your throat, gently kissing at your pulse point.

"Was I a good cock sleeve?" Barely a whisper as you struggle to catch your breath. He bites in answer, scraping his teeth along your throat as he sucks, pulling the skin from your body until he lets it go. Grabbing your chin so roughly forcing you to look at him as if you could look anyway but the man right above you, his necklace swinging in your face.

"The best."