#mha x reader

[shoyodon]

Newlywed husband! Katsuki who thinks tattoos are “so fuckin’ stupid.” Says its a waste of money just to put toxins in your bloodstream.

Newlywed husband! Katsuki who rolls his eyes with a huff and mutters a quiet: “Don’t come complainin’ to me when you regret it.” Under his breath after you ramble on about interesting designs you saw online.

Newlywed husband! Katsuki who, as much as he hates tattoos, has an equal if not vastly greater amount of love for his engagement/wedding band. Deep black obsidian band with a ruby red strip running around the center. He scoffed when you handed it to him after the two of you got engaged, told him you got it made specifically for him and said that it reminded you of his eyes. His huffing and puffing was a poorly disguised attempt at not letting the sentimentality make his heart race. You could tell he loved it by the red tinge on the tips of his ears that matched his band.

Newlywed husband! Katsuki who gets into a scuffle at work while on patrol. The villain had managed to catch him off guard, and when he lifted his hands to shield himself temporarily they had managed to slice through one of his gauntlets like nothing. The surprise attack was all the leverage they had on him, though. Once he got his bearings it was over in an instant.

Newlywed husband! Katsuki who reluctantly is pulled into an ambulance; his left arm and hand cut up badly from the attack. He sat on the stretcher with a bitter look on his face, not caring that his fingers nearly were cut off and were getting stitched up frantically by one of the paramedics, all he cared about was the bent, misshapen ring clenched in his other palm, which had to be cut off of his finger due to the injury.

Newlywed husband! Katsuki who denies it vehemently when you ask him if the bad attitude hes had for the past few days is because his ring was ruined, claiming hes “not that sentimental.” but you still see how he keeps the bent piece on his bedside, and how he stays up late at night looking into places he can trust enough to repair it.

Newlywed husband! Katsuki who, amongst watching various tiktoks of people repairing rings on his fyp, discovers someone tattooing their partners initials on their ring finger in lieu of a wedding band.

Newlywed husband! Katsuki who shows up home just a day after his doctor said his hand was completely healed with fresh ink on his ring finger. Your initials permanently engraved on his skin. His first and only tattoo.

-

(Newlywed husband! Katsuki who shrugs, claiming its “safer than having the ring nearly cut my damn finger off,” but still leaps at you when you surprise him with his ring, freshly repaired, on a chain that he can wear under his hero costume.)

((Husband! Katsuki who never removes the chain from around his neck no matter the circumstance, and subtly shows off his tattoo any chance he gets; what could be better than one way to show off that he has the best spouse a man could ask for waiting for him at home? Two!))

[connorsui]

He stood outside the courthouse, using the building’s reflective glass as a makeshift mirror. He adjusted the tie she’d picked out for him that morning, tugging it loose and then tightening it again until it sat just right. His free hand ran through his hair, smoothing the strands she’d ruffled when she kissed him goodbye with a sly smirk. The faint scent of her perfume clung to his shirt, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Man, your wife is insane,” an officer muttered as he walked past, throwing him a glance.

Without missing a beat, he chuckled, straightening his collar. “Yeah, no shit. Why do you think I married her?” He shot the officer a grin through the reflection, adjusting his cufflinks like this was just another day in his life. “I’m literally on my way to her trial right now, carrying her favorite cookies and wearing the shirt she insisted on. Hell, I’ve even got her eyeliner in this bag because, and I quote, she wants to look stunning for the pictures.”

He gave himself one last look in the glass, smoothing the fabric of his shirt, before turning to the officer. “And when this is all over, I’ll be paying her bail. Not because I have to—because I want to. She’ll come out, probably ask for a shopping spree or some fancy dinner, and you know what? I’ll give it to her. Every last bit.”

His voice softened as he glanced down at the cookies in his hand, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. “Because she’s my wife. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[syverse]

hi, boyfriend! ft. multi

✶⋆.˚��� .ᐟ˙⋆✶

warnings&a/n: here you guys go... to hold you over... sorry if you hate this.... i promise order up pt 4 is coming soon.... do not shoot...

[sugarwarachan]

thinking about shouto todoroki and his raging breeding kink. this man is desperate to give his own children the childhood he always wanted, and it’s made even worse when he sees you interact with his siblings’ children. you’re so naturally at ease with them that he can’t help his mind wandering to a family of his own, one he’s created with you—a toddler asleep against his neck, another one swelling in your belly. literally feels his whole body flash hot, has to grind his teeth together to keep his composure so he doesn’t bend you over the couch. silent the entire drive home, hand clamped possessively on your thigh. pins you up against the door the second you’re inside, hands hot and firm on your hips, “I wanna start trying, love, can we? need to see you full of my baby.” makes you cum on his fingers and tongue, praising you, “my gorgeous fucking girl, you can cum for me again, can’t you? let me make you feel good, darling, the least I can do as the father of our child, right?” has you begging and dripping before he slides his cock inside you. babbling out nonsense, can barely think around the driving feral need to have you full of him. presses down on your lower belly where he can feel his cock kissing your cervix. “keeping you on my cock until you’re pregnant, understand sweetheart? need everyone to take one look at you and know you’re fucking mine.” cradles you in his arms afterward, kissing your forehead and musing about baby names

excuse me being disgusting the spirit possessed me this evening

[serotonins-stuff]

He just can't seem to keep his hands off of your ass.

Whether you're doing something as simple as washing the dishes or doing your makeup, his palm always finds a way to drift from the small of your back, all the way to your ass.

Sometimes, you`d even wear specific clothes around him on purpose, clothes that would accentuate your curves exponentially, and every time, he could never seem to keep his hands to himself.

There was just something about seeing him so lustrous that made you want to take your clothes off right then and there.

It was no different this time during your make-out session with him, his hands groping your clothed flesh intensely as you moaned into his mouth, a small smile making its way onto your face.

"What is so fascinating about my butt?" you giggled, pulling back from the kiss to look at him straight in the eye, with playfulness written all over your face.

He let out a huff of amusement, his hands trailing onto the waistband of your shorts, ready to explore. He leaned in again, just until he could feel your soft breath dancing against his own, lips just barely touching.

"Let me take these off and show you"

KARMA,

BAKUGO, HAWKS, Dabi, kirishima, Sero, Shinso, DENKI,

KUROO, ATSUMU, Daichi, Bokuto, tsukishima,

EREN, Jean, Levi,

mikey, HANMA, RAN, Draken, Baji

Rin, BACHIRA, Kunigami, REO, AIKU,

TENGEN, SANEMI,

GOJO, Itadori, Nanami, GETO,

[inumkii]

[location shared]

izuku, katsuki, shigaraki x reader (individual)

it’s late, you’re drunk, and you need a ride home. who are you calling?

notes: releasing this one out of the draft dungeons. written as a quirkless/college au. can be read as whatever. lets just suspend disbelief and pretend like shigaraki can drive. its hard for me to picture him getting his license

[lightseoul]

a/n. i really don't know where i'm going with this, y'all. but getting to role-play as a therapist and explore bakugou's psyche has been lots of fun, so bear with me. please let me know what you think and/or would want to see! maybe that'll give me an idea lol. (1.1k)

navigation. part 1, part 2, (you are here)

“n-no.”

at that, the woman’s eyebrows shoot up, disappearing underneath her fringe. “no?”

“you heard me,” bakugou spits instinctively, immediately regretting how hostile that sounded not even a second later. “i mean, no, i didn’t.”

his therapist, apparently unfazed by his show of aggression—she must’ve gotten used to it by now, although he still feels bad when he gets testy—only jots something down in her clipboard before looking back up at him, an inexplicable expression etched across her features.

“do you have any ideas, then, why, for the first time in seemingly forever, you’re fixating on a particular social encounter?”

bakugou barely manages to bite back a scowl.

he hates it—this part. the part where his psychologist obviously has theories as to why he’s acting a certain way or how he’s actually feeling but chooses to ask him instead, in an attempt to draw it out of him.

as if talking about difficult shit in the first place isn’t already painful enough.

and isn’t that what he’s paying her to do? give him answers? why’d he have to be the one to wrack his brain for uncomfortable answers to uncomfortable questions?

“do you?” he then challenges, emboldened by that train of thought just now.

“yes,” she responds truthfully and without missing a beat it somewhat surprises him. “but as i’ve explained to you before, i think it’ll be helpful for you if we try a more active approach on your end so that any insights gleaned from our discussions become more personalized and stick with you longer.”

well, then. fuck.

the lady’s got a point.

“so,” she continues when he doesn’t reply, annoyingly aware her little spiel got to him, “any ideas? working hypotheses?”

“uh,” he starts begrudgingly, eyes roving over the bookshelves lining the room’s walls as he struggles to come up with another angle. then it dawns on him, and he looks directly at the woman. “i didn’t expect to see someone in here, and when i did, it caught me off guard.”

“that may be because most of our clients opt for virtual consultations rather than face-to-face ones.”

“yeah,” he piles on quickly, admittedly thankful for the validation, and for the fact. the absolute last thing he needs is to bump into some extras before and after therapy. “that must be why.”

“but how does that explain your, and i quote, ‘dumb as shit reaction’?”

bakugou instantly feels himself flame. he clears his throat, “i told you, didn’t i? it caught me off guard. how the fuck did you expect me to react?”

that must’ve been a reasonable point, thank the fuck, because the woman pauses in thought before nodding slowly. “i suppose you’re right.”

he narrowly bites back an of course, i am.

but then she’s spouting off again.

“although it’s interesting to me how your immediate reaction was to say hi, when that’s not really…how should i say, your style, based on our prior sessions and your personality test results.”

a pause.

bakugou scrambles for a bulletproof rebuttal. he comes up short.

the lady cocks her head to the side, curious. “how often would you say you mull over social blunders?”

never, he thinks to himself. because they never happen.

“i figured as much,” comes her unexpected reply, and only then does it dawn on him that he said the last bit out loud.

“can we talk about something else?” he finds himself suddenly asking, totally over this entire conversation. he can worry about being a loser and pathetically begging for an out some other time. right now, he just needs a break.

“actually, you’re in luck,” she checks her smartwatch, “the session’s just about to end.”

at that, his shoulders almost instantly sag in relief, which makes the woman laugh. he shoots her a half-hearted glare.

they spend the next few minutes summarizing what has been discussed, as well as the arrangements for the following weeks, with bakugou eventually throwing his bag over his shoulders and bidding her a mumbled goodbye. he tosses her a nod over his shoulder as he crosses the threshold of her office, mind already drifting to what he’s going to cook himself for dinner.

and that, for a typical session, he’s walking out relatively unscathed.

but then he does the stupid thing of looking up from where he was studying his trainers when a door creaks open, and he freezes.

because standing a few feet away from him, right beside the entrance to the restroom, is you, equally frozen.

he doesn’t know how much time passes with him just staring at you like a motherfucking idiot, and you, strangely enough, peering at him back, but it’s you who eventually takes a hammer to the silence.

“h-hi,” you offer, voice soft and quiet, just like how he vaguely remembers it from two weeks ago.

“hey,” comes his gruff reply, which would’ve been immediately followed by a wince at how rough his tone was just now had he not stopped himself in the nick of time.

at least he didn’t stutter.

“…b-bakugou, right?” you ask after a moment of neither of you saying anything, confirming his earlier suspicions.

“right.”

you nod, a polite yet somehow stilted smile on your face, and suddenly he’s mentally slapping himself. since when was he fucking bound to one-word sentences?

he decides then and there that this shit won’t do.

in an attempt to convince himself that no, this is just a weird outlier of an encounter for him, and that no, he’s not a fucking idiot like dunce face, and that yes, he is and is being perfectly fucking normal, he resolves to ask you for your name.

and he was just about to do that—he swears he was—when someone from the other side of the door calls out a name, and you whip to face their direction, breaking eye contact.

“yes, doc!” you holler back, and he watches you as you hesitate in place for a second, before turning to face him with an awkward smile.

“nice meeting you, bakugou-san.”

and then you’re off and shutting the door behind you.

he stands there for what feels like a few minutes, just blinking at the door in front of him, what must be your name echoing—again and again—up to the far recesses of his mind.

then: fuck.

he may or may not have just lied to his therapist.

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon @napbatata @k0z3me @h0ngh0ngh0ng @honeyoru @yoongiwithglasses @hellokitty-doll @lilsebnem @tetsuukuroo @crangrapel0ver @syrhra @qyuin | @kalulakunundrum @cheezemanz @gold24fish @lunaryasha

[elssero]

hi hello congrats on 1k!!! can i get a smau w shinso? i don't see super much content of him so maybe smth where he confesses to the reader by accident (like he thinks he's texting someone else) OR. he's trying to (not so) covertly ask you what you like so he can plan a date? or if you don't like either of these pls feel free to do your own thing, you're an amazing writer!! congrats again!!!

drunken love

h.shinso

-in which he gets a little too drunk and messages you on accident

[minkoq]

Shoto Todoroki boyfriend texts

🍓 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

texts with ur bf shoto todoroki; fem! reader (aged up)

warnings: sfw, fluff

[doumadono]

Warnings: oral (f receiving), finger fucking, Dabi being Dabi, Tomura being Tomura

Synopsis: Shigaraki’s patience is tested when Dabi interrupts an intimate moment

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST - PART II

The night wrapped itself around the hideout, broken only by the faint hum of distant traffic and the sickly buzz of a flickering neon sign outside the window. The place wasn’t exactly cozy — it was dim, cluttered, and reeked faintly of cigarette smoke. 

Hours had slipped by unnoticed as you pored over scattered documents, papers that Tomura insisted needed attention. They weren’t critical — just another piece of the League’s never-ending puzzle — but you couldn’t deny that the tension in the air had nothing to do with logistics.

Shiagraki lounged on the worn couch, one arm draped over the back, his fingers idly brushing the frayed fabric as he watched you flip through one of the documents strewn on the coffee table.

“You’ve been quiet tonight,” you pointed out, breaking the silence. You always read him too well, and it unnerved him more than he’d ever admit.

He didn’t answer right away, his crimson eyes lingered on you, settling a little too long on the curve of your neck where your shirt dipped just enough to tease. Finally, he shifted, leaning forward and propping his chin on his hand. “I’ve had a lot on my mind,” he muttered, his voice husky.

“League stuff?” you asked gently, stealing a quick glance at him from beneath your lashes.

He snorted, a humorless sound. “League stuff, you, the fact that half the world would love to see me dead. Take your pick.”

The honesty of his words caught you off guard. Slowly rising your head, you gave him a look.

Tomura wasn’t one for baring his thoughts unprompted. Usually, his feelings came out in fragmented bursts — rough, jagged pieces of himself that he let you see only when he couldn’t contain them anymore.

“I didn’t realize I made it to the list,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood, though your pulse quickened under his glance.

His gaze sharpened. “You’ve been on it since the day I met you, Y/N.”

There was something in the way he said it, a weight that made your heart stutter. Before you could respond, he stood abruptly, and crossing the room, he closed the distance between you in a heartbeat, towering over your seated form. His hands with pinkies raised braced on either side of the chair, caging you in. “You don’t get it, do you?” he snorted, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper that sent a shiver down your spine. “You’re not just some passing thought. You’ve got me wrapped around your damn finger, and it’s infuriating, doll.”

“Tomura—” you started, your voice barely above a whisper, but he didn’t let you finish.

His lips crashed against yours, desperate and unrelenting, the kiss searing away any words you might have said. The document in your hand slipped to the floor, forgotten, as his fingers gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him.

His chapped lips moved against yours with raw need, coaxing you to respond. 

Your hands found the front of his t-shirt, fisting the fabric as he deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing yours in a slow, passionate dance of desires.

He pulled you to your feet, his movements purposeful, guiding you backward until your calves hit the edge of the couch.

When he finally broke the kiss, his lips hovered a heartbeat away from yours, and his breath was warm against your skin. “Lie down,” he ordered dictatorially.

You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding. This was the common room — anyone could walk in at any moment, and yet, the risk only seemed to thicken the tension between the two of you. 

Before you could overthink it fully, Shigaraki’s lips brushed the shell of your ear, and his voice dropped lower. “Don’t make me ask twice.”

Slowly, you sank onto the couch, the worn-out cushions creaking softly beneath you. Your movements were unhurried as you leaned back, letting your body relax against the threadbare fabric. One hand drifted to your chest, fingers grazing over your cleavage in a languid motion, your eyes fixed on him, drinking in every detail of his sharp features you found super attractive.

Shigaraki’s lips curved into a wicked grin, a spark of boyish arrogance lighting up his sharp features. The man leaned forward, his tongue brushed over your lower lip, soft at first, before pressing harder, coaxing yours into a heated battle. Every motion was heated, like he was savoring you, tasting you as though he wanted to memorize every inch of your mouth. His hands mirrored the hunger in his kiss, sliding beneath your shirt. 

Tomura let out a low, mocking chuckle, his crimson eyes dark with amusement. “Well, well,” he drawled, his voice dripping with condescension. “I was wondering why your nipples were so easy to see through your shirt today. Turns out, you’re just a dirty little thing who decided to skip the bra, huh?”

When his fingers finally found the soft meat of your tits, rolling your nipples between them, a moan spilled from your lips.

He pulled back just enough for his lips to hover above yours, his ragged breaths mingling with your own. “I want to taste you,” he uttered, his voice low and rough, each syllable like a confession carved from stone.

Your body betrayed your answer before your lips could form the words, a shy nod trembling from you under the weight of his gaze. 

He slowly lowered his head, his lips capturing yours once more, deepening the kiss as his tongue danced with yours. But he didn’t stay there for long.

Kisses trailed down your jawline, slow and deliberate. When he reached the curve of your neck, his teeth grazed your skin just enough to draw a gasp, a smirk ghosting against your throat. His hands were careful, his pinkies hovering as he tugged the panties down your legs with agonizing slowness after reaching for them under the skirt you wore that day.

He knelt between your legs, his lean form coiled with tension. For a moment, he simply stared. The sight of your pussy was mesmerizing. “So pretty,” he muttered, almost to himself, his voice thick with reverence. Tomura leaned in, his lips brushing over your clit in a featherlight kiss before trailing lower to place another around your entrance. His nose grazed your bundle of nerves as he breathed you in. He paused there, his crimson eyes half-lidded as he inhaled deeply, savoring the intoxicating, rich feminine scent he adored more than he’d ever admit. Slowly, his tongue darted out, wetting his lips, his crimson eyes dark with hunger as he murmured lowly, “You drive me fucking crazy.”

Under normal circumstances, Shigaraki would’ve drawn it out. He’d have kissed his way down your stomach, lips lingering on your thighs, smirking as you squirmed beneath him, desperate for more. But that moment was different. The growing pressure in his pants, the unbearable tightness as his erection strained against the fabric, pushed him past his usual games. Without hesitation, he buried his face between your thighs, his hunger too consuming to wait, his lips and tongue already claiming you as though he needed you to breathe.

A moan escaped your parted lips.

Shigaraki ran his index finger up and down your slit. “You’re soaked,” he stated, his tone laced with satisfaction. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, glinting with amusement as he smirked. “And I’ve barely touched you, babe.”

Your cheeks were flushed at that moment and you made sure to spread your legs wider to grant him full access to your pussy.

His tongue dragged a slow, deliberate line from your entrance to your clit. Tomura’s tongue was moving fast as it circled your clit before dipping lower, tasting you like you were the most decadent thing he’d ever had. When his fingers joined the assault, sliding into your slick cunt, your back arched against the couch cushion. His digits curled upward, stroking that spot inside you that sent white-hot pleasure shooting through your body.

“Fuck, Tomura,” your voice was nothing but a pathetic whimper, your hand gripping the edge of the couch, your other hand slipping into his messy hair as your hips bucked against his face.

“You taste so good,” he rasped, his voice muffled as he buried his face deeper between your trembling thighs. His fingers quickened their pace, thrusting harder as his tongue focused on your swollen clit, flicking against the swollen bundle of nerves. Soon, it was replaced with his thumb that rubbed little circles around your clit.

Your body tensed, the coil of pleasure in your core tightening with every movement. “I’m— Oh God— I’m gonna—”

He alternated between broad, flat strokes of his flattened tongue and precise flicks of its tip, experimenting with the rhythm until he found the exact pace that had you gasping and gripping the couch beneath you. His lips wrapped around your clit as he sucked gently before letting his tongue glide over it again.

The coil snapped, and your orgasm consumed you entirely, ripping through your body with an intensity that left you trembling, moaning his name like a mantra. 

But he didn’t stop.

Even as your thighs quivered around his head, his tongue continued its relentless rhythm, his fingers curling and stroking your inner, velvety walls.

He withdrew his fingers slowly, the wet, obscene sound of them sliding out of your soaked pussy made your cheeks burn. 

Tomura’s lips curled into a wicked grin as he held his hand up, your creamy juices dripping down his scarred digits. Without breaking eye contact, he brought his fingers to his lips, his tongue darting out to lick them clean, savoring every last drop like it was the finest thing he’d ever tasted.

Your breath hitched as you watched the show. Instinctively, your tongue flicked out to wet your lips, now dry from all the moans that left your mouth. 

When his fingers were clean, he didn’t pause to revel in your reaction. Instead, he lowered his head again, his tongue sweeping over your folds with deliberate slowness. He sucked your pussy lips into his mouth, his movements languid and unhurried, as if he were determined to clean every last trace of your cum. The obscene slurping sounds only heightened the ache pooling in your stomach again, and you whimpered.

“Well, well, well.” The raspy voice cut through the heavy air.

Your head turned sharply toward the sound, your breath catching in your throat when your eyes landed on Dabi. He was leaning against the bar, a glass of amber liquid in his hand, the rim tilted lazily toward his lips. His turquoise eyes gleamed with lust, a smug grin curling his lips as he watched the scene unfold in front of him.

“What the hell do you want, Dabi?” Tomura growled, his voice muffled as he dragged his tongue in a long, deliberate stroke from your entrance to your clit. His grip on your thighs tightened possessively, fingers flexing against your trembling flesh. “Can’t you see we’re kinda busy?”

Dabi chuckled, the sound low and dark, vibrating through the room. He tilted his head, feigning innocence as his gaze flicked back to you briefly before settling on Tomura. “Didn’t think you had it in you, boss,” he teased. “Didn’t know you even knew how to eat a girl out.”

Tomura paused, his tongue sweeping over you one last time before he kissed your slit and pulled back, crimson eyes narrowing as he straightened. His lips, glistening with your juices and swollen, twitched into a sardonic smirk. “And yet,” Shigaraki began, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he flicked his tongue over his lower lip, “I seem to be doing a better job than you ever could. I have a great technique. Jealous?”

Dabi snorted, his grin widening as he leaned casually against the counter, one brow quirking upward. “Please. You call that technique? It’s amateur hour.” He tilted his head, gesturing lazily toward you. “Bet she’s only half as satisfied as she pretends to be.”

“Why don’t you shut the fuck up and get out of here?” Tomura bit out, his voice low and venomous. “Or should I put that smart mouth of yours to better use and disintegrate it? I’d be doing everyone a favor.”

“I’m certain I could make her cum faster.”

Tomura’s snarl was immediate, his hand tightening on your thigh as he shot the other man a glare that could’ve set the room ablaze. “Touch her, and I’ll disintegrate that disgusting face of yours. Now, seriously, get lost before I decide to turn you into a pile of ash.”

Dabi laughed again, the sound fading as he turned back toward the bar. “Relax, boss.” Dabi barked another laugh, shaking his head as he pushed off the bar. “Fine, fine, I’ll leave you to it, boss. No need to lose your shit.” He turned, raising his glass in a parting salute. “Just make sure you don’t knock her up. The last thing I need is to play uncle Dabi to your bastard.” 

Tomura rolled his eyes, muttering a low curse under his breath as Dabi sauntered away. Shigaraki’s focus shifted back to you, his gaze softening just enough to send a thrill down your spine. “Ignore this idiot,” he murmured, lowering himself between your legs again. “Now, where were we? Ah, right... here.” His tongue darted out, tracing the path along your slit he left unfinished, his voice rumbling against your skin as he added, “You’re mine. And I’m going to make sure everyone knows it.”

@pixelcafe-network

[lowkeyremi]

BLOCKED ! (part 4) (smau series)

Summary: As a student of class 1-B, the first time you really saw Bakugo Katsuki was at the sports festival. That’s when you decided you would pursue him. It’s not easy though, because he absolutely hates you. Content: crack smau, just teens being teens, angst, miscommunication between bkg and reader (will be explained in the next part!) this is kind of short, sorry guys!! Masterlist

Bakugo’s messages with his friends:

You + Bakugo talking to izuku (separate):

Taglist:

@katsukota @nemisimp @herefor-tojis-tits

@haechansbbg @rcveriees @hearts4heidi

@kodzubaby @kiritokunuwu @xerophyides

@wisecatmentality @1ndee @call-me-prodigy

@harryzcherry @defnotriri @kxllanxtdoor

©𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐊𝐄𝐘𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈 All works are written by me! Please do not copy, translate, or upload onto other sites thanks!

[nemisuki]

Intertwined

Dating AU | He wasn’t aware such a small insecurity could affect your relationship that much. Lucky for him, she seems to know how to ease his worries away. 

᧔o᧓ || katsuki bakugo x f!reader, she/her pronouns, no manga spoilers, pure fluff, no smut, no angst, reverse comfort lowkey, aged up to third years, they're both whipped, two idiots in love, wholesome short oneshot, 821 word count

His brows furrow with frustration at the glistening skin - small droplets of sweat already beginning to form at the surface of his palms.

Bakugos mood immediately getting ruined at the sight of it.

He takes pride in many things in his life, one of them being his quirk, the ability to create explosions from mere sweat is truly an odd but valuable power.

One that needed proper training to get used too and eventually perfected. But there was always one problem that remained and perhaps is unavoidable.

Excessive sweating.

At first it was manageable, he simply wiped it away on his pants, not thinking much of it.

Though as time went on, it grew out of control. Perhaps it was a side effect of puberty now that their seniors in highschool, who knows?

What he did know was that it was beyond irritating.

Maybe this was his karma for being too cocky in the past. He assumed his quirk had no downsides he couldn't manage, but the gods just had to humble him.

For an over hygienic guy - this was probably his worst nightmare come true.

Especially now that he has a girlfriend.

"Cmon Katsuki, we gotta return to the dorms before curfew!"

She quickly grabs a hold of his hand, cheerful expression on her face, a bright smile that could battle the sun.

Oblivious to the swirling thoughts in his head.

Dating was a concept he never thought he would experience - til he met Y/N. As a new couple he didn't expect this personal issue to have such an effect on his relationship.

But here we are.

He flinches at her touch, swiftly extracting his hand from hers, simply praying she didn't notice his clammy hands.

Her face instantly falls, switching to one of worry and hesitation, "Katsuki? Hey what's wrong?"

The blonde didn't know what else to do but stay silent, avoiding eye contact with her as he tried to think of something to say, subtly wiping his hands on his school uniform.

Feeling embarrassed to tell her about this 'problem' he's been recently dealing with.

"It's nothing."

Noticing the clear shift in his demeanor, she tries connecting the dots and gives him an apologetic look, "I'm sorry if you were uncomfortable with holding hands! I should've asked first since you hate PDA." 

His head snaps back at her, realizing the careless mistake he just made, "No no that's not what I- uh"

He sighs as irritation begins bubbling inside him, directed at himself for making her worried over something so trivial.

"It's not that dummy. My hands are..." he looks away once again. Feeling self conscious all of a sudden - opening up has never been an easy thing for him.

She notices the tip of his ears burning with a pink hue, rare shyness creeping in his voice, "My hands get sweaty a lot because of my quirk."

A moment of silence passes between them.

"It's been out of control lately so-"

His words waver as he feels her pinky finger slowly wrap around his own. Her eyes soften as she stares up at him, a look of understanding on her face.

"Ah I see. Then this is fine right?" she smiles, tilting her head to get a better view of his face.

 ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ 

"...Yeah sure, whatever" he clears his throat, avoiding her gaze completely.

She giggles at his cute demeanor, not used to seeing him like this, just thinking how soft this blonde truly is under all the walls he put over his heart.

He doesn't say much as they continue their walk back towards campus. His heart doing somersaults in his chest at the contact.

"It doesn't bother me by the way" she mumbles, smiling up at him again, "I just want to be next to you."

"You're such a sap."

He pinches her puffy cheek with his other hand - making her whine in response, trying to distract the effect her words have on him.

A small laugh escapes him as he mushes her face to form pouty duck lips, rolling his eyes at her unintelligible words of plead.

"So fucking dramatic." 

Whether to shush her up or satisfy his own desires, he quickly leans down and presses a small peck to her puckered lips. Letting her face go a second after, making the poor girl flustered and silent with shock.

"What was that for?" she says, fidgeting with her sleeves like a love struck fool.

"Tch, can I not kiss my own girlfriend?"

He spins around to walk away - making her rush to catch up, a knowing look on her face.

"I know but in public? Katsuki you sly dog~" she cooes, trying to rile him up.

"Fuck off."

"Love you too!"

At her continuous laughter and teasing, all he could do was put a fake frown on his face, but only from her eyes - she could see the small smile underneath it all.

✦ ⎯⎯⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨ masterlist || taglist || intro || socials ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⎯⎯ ✦

a/n ||| im really sorry for not posting much u guys! i kinda lost motivation these past couple of weeks but im finally feeling better. i actually relate to this so much bc i sadly suffer from hyperhidrosis. If you don't know what hyperhidrosis is, it's "a medical condition in which a person exhibits excessive sweating". So im basically bakugo irl u guys! one side effect is that my hands are constantly clammy and it's so annoying, me and katsuki twinning fr. my apologies go out to fellow people like us, this condition sucks so bad *sighssssss* tags ||| @leleyro @zaiban2989 ໒꒰ྀི ´๑  ̫๑`  ꒱ྀིა

[irisintheafterglow]

touya todoroki doesn't like talking. sure, he'll quip and joke and mock a dead horse until it's begging to be killed again, but discussing serious topics were as foreign to him as the next galaxy. not just about his family or his accident or his vendetta against endeavor, but he is the man of few words. physically, it tears his throat to speak for extended amounts of time, and emotionally, he's not the type to share his inner anguish at length.

so when he starts to murmur something in the darkest hours of the night, your head on his chest as he gently runs a fingertip in spirals on your bare back, you tense. and, since he never misses anything when it comes to you, he tenses too.

"something wrong?"

"no," you say too quickly, already aware of how you'd essentially blown up his train of thought. "nothing. keep going."

"you're lying," he mutters against your temple, his voice darker and sharper than whiskey. "thought we said no more lying."

"we also said you'd never end up back in my bed, yet here we are," you remark and there's a small puff of air when he huffs, amused. "it's nothing, really." your eyes fall shut and your body syncs to his breathing rhythm, on the verge of sleeping when he speaks so quietly, you could've missed what he said.

"i don't like when you say that." you blink slowly, fighting to stay awake.

"say what?"

"that something is nothing, like i'm supposed to ignore what you said."

"maybe it was something stupid that you don't need to worry about," you propose but he has none of it.

"then i'll be the judge of that." sighing, you prop yourself onto one elbow and look down at him, his lower half covered by your comforter and his upper body completely exposed. your thumb lightly brushes the seam of his burn scars, stalling in hopes that he'll forget what you were arguing about. he doesn't, of course. "so?"

"so what?"

"if you're gonna keep ogling me, you might as well say what you want to say," he smirks and you roll your eyes.

"ogling is such a strong word." your lips purse and you make to pull your hand away, but he's fast to grab your wrist and press your palm to his heart. it's a steady thump, thump, thump that you could recognize as his in any other world. "i'd say 'admiring' is a better word for it."

"you'd be the first to think so, sweetheart."

"you don't like when i ogle you?" you ask teasingly, your fingertips grazing his collarbone, over the spot that vaguely held the mark of your teeth.

"well, yeah," he confirms like it was written in neon graffiti on your bedroom walls. his eyes flick down to your hand as it caresses the mottled skin. "no one thinks this is pretty. 's just not the way the rest of the world works." his eyes flutter shut under the safety of your touch; something pangs in your chest and you suddenly have the urge to cry. "don't start with all that."

"how did you know--"

"you swallow and blink a lot when you're about to cry."

"but your eyes are--"

"i can imagine your eyelashes fluttering, dear, and you're too sensitive when it comes to me," he explains patiently, with only the slightest patronizing tone. cracking a single eye open, he pulls you back down to his body and presses his lips softly to your forehead. "don't cry for me. i'm not worth it."

"of course you're worth it," you insist and he scoffs. "maybe i'm not like the rest of the world, because i think you're beautiful." it's his turn to fall silent, unsure of how to respond to such blunt statements of adoration. "stop it."

"stop what?"

"stop...stopping," you shrug and he snorts.

"what are you on about?"

"stop not talking," you frown in spite of his smirk. "i want you to keep talking." his chest rises and falls beneath your ear, warm and nothing but yours. "please?"

"if you insist," he murmurs, "but only for you."

---

i miss my bf again man...it's iris misses touya hours every hour

[sugarwarachan]

touchstarved! iida next pls🙏🙏

nonnie i cannot deny you!! many requests came in for this lil engine, hope you enjoy <3

touchstarved!iida who most certainly doesn’t have a crush on his personal assistant, that would be wildly inappropriate

touchstarved!iida who nevertheless gets turned on by literally everything you do, feels like a pervert when all you’re doing is sipping tea and he’s half-hard

touchstarved!iida who locks the door to his office at lunch with a curt “I’m not to be bothered” just so he can jerk off under his desk and pretend you’re there helping him

touchstarved!iida who drives you home after work so he has an excuse to be closer to you, “You never know who you might encounter late at night” (also wants to get a glimpse of your lace thigh-high when your skirt rides up)

touchstarved!iida who won’t make a move unless he’s 100 percent certain you’re interested

touchstarved!iida who lays you out on his silk sheets and worships your body with his hands and tongue, “gorgeous girl—let me show you how pretty I think you are sweetheart”

[shigarakisstalker]

todoroki is genuinely the sweetest boy you’ll ever date. he’s kind and considerate but a little dense sometimes, but it’s okay because he genuinely means well. he’s the type to unintentionally hurt your feelings with how blatantly honest he is sometimes, but he’ll get you flowers and sincerely apologize when he realizes he made you upset. another thing is that he’s not really used to affection. his family never was affectionate so when you’re suddenly holding him, caressing his face and hair, and giving him so much attention he’s sorta awestruck. now he demands for it lol.