#my hero imagine

[duckymcdoorknob]

Okay y’all be on the lookout for two more dad fics.

We’re gonna have FatGum taking his little three year old to her first softball game.

And Nozel Silva with the patience of a saint, dealing with his little boy’s adventures and his thousands of questions.

[taeggukxiie]

this art will always make me want to bawl my eyes out because what do you mean we could have pro hero touya and health assistant toga only if they had decent parents??

(I hate mha society so much)

[ketzzzel]

lunch

[kelisewrites]

bf!katsuki loves to spoil you rotten.

he’s taking you out to dinner? bam, you find a new dress in your closet.

you two are out shopping and he notices your eyes lingering on a necklace? its yours.

you’re home by yourself and hungry? he’s ordering whatever you want.

you call him complaining about your bad day? theres flowers at your door within the hour.

you and katsuki are hanging out and you begin looking at your hand, noticing how much your nails have grown out since you last got them done.

“what’s up with your hand?” katsuki asks you.

“nothing, just need to get my nails done again soon. its so expensive to go to nail techs though, so i’ve been holding off on it,” you tell him.

“how much is it?” he asks, and you immediately know what he’s hinting at.

“kats, no. ill probably just paint them myself or something”

“hell no. if you want to get them done then ill make sure it happens.”

“are you sure?”

“‘course. you know i’m a man of my word,” he nods, “I take care of whats mine.”

oh and he meant it. sure enough, you booked your appointment and got them done, and paid for them with katsuki’s card.

later that day you stood in front of katsuki, now admiring your new set with that cute design you had been wanting.

“thank you again, kats. you didnt have to pay for them,”

“stop thanking me, baby. you deserve whatever you want.” he hummed as he grabs your hands gently to get a good look at them. “looks fuckin’ beautiful on you.”

you felt a sudden flush on your cheeks as katsuki begins pressing faint kisses to your knuckles, caressing them with his thumbs.

“you spoil me too much kats.”

he pulls you by the waist, pressing you against him. “dont care. always gonna take care of ‘ya.”

. ° .

[yanderenightmare]

Yandere Days of the Week

♡ TW: a lot of different stuff today, NSFW, noncon/dubcon, yandere, stalking, drugging, alcohol/poisoning, vomiting/forced/emeto, abuse of power, plotting murder, waterboarding-ish, squirting, implied bottle-fucking

♡ FEM reader

♡ INSPO: this by the lovely @yanderedrabbles

Monday is your strict boss.

He’s always breathing down your neck around the office, checking if you come in on time, laying into you when you’re anything but perfectly on the dot—not even allowing you to get settled into your cubicle before dumping a workload onto your desk on top of the one you already have, coming back with a fresh one right after lunch again.

You know you’re probably just being sensitive, but you feel as though he singles you out. Barking at you to redo things, even after you’d gone through the extra measure of running it by a coworker who’d given you the thumbs up. You don’t know, it sort of feels as if he has it out for you.

Being yelled at is already bad enough, not to mention how he’ll demand you work late to make up for the slack. And yet, that’s not even the worst part! 

No, the absolute worst part is that he’ll insist on staying behind, too—to supervise you. 

It’s utterly nerve-wracking. ‘Cause he isn’t only your boss, he’s also sort of… well… really hot. Always dressed sharply in a tailored pin-striped suit and those sharp-tipped newly-polished shoes—hair slick with a fresh barbershop cut and a chiseled face to match.

He smells good, too. And it all just makes it extra awkward for you. Especially when you stay late together, alone. He’ll remove his tie and jacket, then button up his collar and roll up his sleeves—flexing those burly arms of his and that fat wristwatch that’s worth more than your entire life savings. 

That neat hair of his will start to fall apart as the late hours take their toll, getting disheveled and only sexier for it—and the way he’ll drag his ring-clad fingers through it with a groan, looking at you with such a fierce glare, you actually have to calm your breath and suppress the urge to rub your thighs together.

But although his voice is definitely something you could dream about, you could do without it when he talks down to you, always admonishing you, grumbling about what a poor employee you are, how you only give him more work to do, how he should be compensated for it. 

You’re certain he’s going to fire you soon.

And it turns out soon is even sooner than you’d thought or hoped.

This is it, you think, once he calls you into his office. He’s finally going to do it. You’re going to have to find a new job now—without a good recommendation to help you out, no less. Knowing him and how much he despises you, he’ll probably give you a really poor review on top of it all—he might even call around to make sure no one ever hires you again. 

You’re almost about to cry.

“You’re about the worst employee I’ve ever had,” he states, sitting behind his desk with you standing before him, twiddling your fingers while looking sorrowfully down at your heels, hoping he’d have enough mercy to at least make it quick. “But since firing people is fucking impossible nowadays, I’m just gonna haf’to relocate you somewhere else you won’t be damn useless.” 

You look up at that. Tears held back in surprise. 

Wait, so… he’s not firing you?

He sighs, looking through your employee files, making the changes, “And given it’s the only job open right now, starting today, you’ll be my new personal assistant.”

Gathering everything, he brandishes the documents with his signature, then looks up at you while sliding the pen and papers over.

“Think you can handle that?”

Stunned, you only briefly think about how you’re overqualified to be a personal assistant, but at the same time, you couldn’t really find it in yourself to care, blinded with relief that you hadn’t been sacked.

You just nod your head all prettily, signing just as quickly while vowing, “I’ll try my best, sir.”

He becomes significantly nicer after that—always praising you for a job well done and giving you pretty gifts on top of your paycheck, which, funny enough, is nearly double what it used to be, all the while telling you how lost he’d be without you there keeping his life together. 

You can’t help but let it all go to your head, completely forgetting that you had bigger plans than being an assistant.

He brings you everywhere he goes now. Out of the building on business meetings, out of the country on business trips. Expensive dinners, fancy hotel rooms, big yachts and galas. You can’t complain—too busy picking your jaw up from the floor—too busy to notice his leer and how he plans to keep you by his side for the rest of his life—too busy to understand that when he stays work late, he doesn’t mean doing paperwork.

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Enji, Aizawa, Overhaul ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Nanami, Geto, Naoya, Megumi, Toji, Higuruma, Kusakabe ♡ HQ – Tsukishima, Sakusa ♡ BLLK – Reo, Rin, Sae ♡ AOT – Levi ♡ DS – Muzan, Sanemi ♡ HxH – Chrollo

Tuesday is your old classmate who just moved in across the hall. 

It’s a funny coincidence, you both agree, as neither of you lives in your hometown anymore—what a small world, huh?

You’ll meet each other in the mornings when you both set out for work and small talk on your way down the stairs, then up the stairs when coming home again. It’s impressive how often it happens.

He’s always asking for the two of you to catch up—always inviting you over for dinner to talk about old times and what you’ve gotten up to since. 

You never know what to say… You don’t feel like the two of you were all that close during school, so you’ve turned him down each time, hoping if you ask him for a rain check enough times, he’ll eventually just forget.

But after coming home, tired after a grueling Monday and an even harder Tuesday, on top of realizing you didn’t have anything stocked up in the fridge, you end up agreeing to his home-cooked meal when he offers in favor of ordering takeout.

He lights up at once, “Great!”

It’s a bit of an overreaction, you think. But hey, he just moved here—maybe he hasn’t made any friends yet. It’s not easy being in a new place—he’s probably dying for some company. 

Shoot, now you feel a little bad for not having agreed earlier. You remember how it had been yourself when all you ever did was go to work every day—not knowing what else to get up to in the city. Maybe you could give him a hand, tell him about a few places—just to help him get on his feet.

“Yeah, just let me shower and change, and I’ll come over,” you say, unlocking your apartment. 

“Sure thing! See you soon!” he cheers, watching you go with a big beaming smile on his face, only turning around to unlock his own place when you’d closed your door.

He’s a little strange, you can’t help but think—or maybe he’s just that eager. Thinking about it, you don’t remember much about him from college. Honestly, he’s one of those faces that just sort of end up blending into the background. He never made any impact in class or at any parties or other gatherings. You don’t know, he was always rather quiet. You don’t remember him having any friends either. 

But whatever, people change, and he seems nice enough—maybe he was just more concerned with his average. Fucks knows you weren’t.

You shower quickly, not bothering to wash your hair or put on anything too nice. It’s only a Tuesday, after all—it should be casual. A bralette, boxers, baggy T-shirt, shorts, and slippers later, and you pop out the door and knock on his.

He’s quick to answer. “Hey! Come in, come in—it’s almost done!”

“Cool, thanks,” you say. “Smells good.”

He ushers you to take a seat at the tiny kitchen table he has. Similar to yours, actually—these apartments aren’t all that big. Still, his place is poorly furnished. But then again, he only moved in a little while ago, so you won’t judge.

He rushes over with dinner shortly. Spaghetti, meatballs, and red sauce. A classic. You’re not complaining. However, you could have done without the candles and moody lighting. It’s the kind of thing you’d expect from a corny date, but you decide to ignore it.

“Wine?” he offers despite it being only Tuesday. 

You know you probably shouldn’t, but the start of the week has been hard, and you honestly wouldn’t mind the good night's sleep that follows a few glasses of red or anything that would make the affair go over a little more smoothly.

“Sure, why not.”

And yet, it’s still a little awkward. You don’t know what to talk about—you just end up droning on about work, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Then you remember what you’d thought about earlier and start talking about some of the places and things he should check out now that he lives here. You try asking him about his work and why he decided to move here, but he doesn’t seem very interested in talking about himself.

After finishing, it isn’t long before you feel drowsy. You blame it on the wine at first—starting to think it was time you thank him for the hospitality and excuse yourself. But as soon as you get up, you’re already falling over.

No worries, though. He’s been waiting and ready to catch you for a while.

“It took you some time to agree to come—I was afraid you’d never say yes, but I’m glad you finally did… I was about to take other drastic measures…”

You’re so sleepy it’s suddenly impossible to grasp what he’s saying—as well as have any sort of grasp on the situation while you’re being carried bridal style away from the living room, through a door into a very dark room.

“I bet you don’t remember me that well, huh?” he continues as he lays you down on something soft, something that swallows your body in a way you can’t really decide if it feels nice or not. 

He keeps talking while you try to figure it out, “Hm, that’s fine. I remember you very well.”

You connect one and two associations and come to conclude the thing beneath you is a bed. It ripples and dips with the added weight once your neighbor crawls over you. Your body doesn’t yet recognize being alarmed, but something behind the fuzz that’s taken over your mind still has enough common sense to make you feel as if something’s not right.

“I just had to follow after you, you know?” he keeps rambling, but you’re only barely able to listen. “I just needed some time to save up the money and all, but I was right behind you. And made sure I’d get this apartment right next to yours.”

He looks at your pretty face—all spaced out—stroking your cheek all slow and delicately.

He sighs, “Heh, I know they say that if you love someone, you should let them go—but I just couldn’t find it in me.”

His hand travels further down—eyes following the trail. Down, down, down, until reaching the hem of your shirt.

“I had a crush on you since day one, you know?” he confesses while pulling your tee up over your bra, exposing your pretty chest to him. He licks his lips, breath shuddering, and yet he keeps preaching despite it, “All three years. I wanted to tell you, but you were always surrounded by those pesky friends of yours. It was impossible to catch you alone.”

He feels your skin with a gentle touch as if in reverence. Still, now that you’re getting used to the effects of whatever it is he’s drugged you with, you’re lucid enough to feel the treacherous hard-on he has rubbing against you. 

“Unlike me…” He stills for a moment, and something dark takes over. “I was always alone.”

Beyond uncomfortable, beyond alarmed, you’re fully terrified now. You want to scream, but you can’t find the strength to move, even just a finger. Completely limb, and yet not numb, but sensitive to all his awful touches.

“But that’s all in the past.” He smiles. “Now that I finally have you all to myself.”

♡ BNHA – Deku, Tenko ♡ JJK – Yuuta ♡ HQ – Yamaguchi ♡ CSM – Yoshida ♡ DS – Zenitsu ♡ WB – Nirei

Wednesday is the cheerful clerk who works at your local grocery store. 

You like doing your grocery shopping on Hump day. It only makes sense, after all—you’ve made it through the first half of the week and deserve to spoil yourself a little! 

He’s only just a bit older than you and yet still plays the older and wiser card—all in good fun, though, making a few comments about your lifestyle, jokingly telling you that “Candies are strictly  for the weekend, you know?” A brow quirked while looking at you slyly.

And you’ll return his banter, giggling while saying, “A little fun never killed no one.”

It’s an innocent flirt the two of you share—neither of you really expects anything in return. He’s just a really friendly guy—always coming over to help you in the store. Tall as he is, he reaches the top shelf, barely needing to stretch his arm. Sometimes, he’ll even take a look at your shopping list and help you gather everything, bag your items, and then carry them out to your car as if the two of you are the people around and the store isn’t filled with dozens of other shoppers in bigger need of his assistance.

He mostly only sees you on Wednesday, but he knows your entire life story and your day-to-day schedule the way the two of you end up talking. Usually, people would be wary of sharing things with strangers, but you trust him with so much exactly because he is a stranger—treating him no different from a confidant. No one knows you as intimately as him. He knows all your little habits—from what you eat on a daily basis to what brand of soap you use, even what type of tampons and pads you like. 

He doesn’t appreciate you eating things outside of the groceries the two of you pick together. He fucking hates it, actually—it makes it feel like you’re cheating on him. Every time you eat out, order in, go to a bar or cafe, even a fucking candy store is like a stab to his back and heart all at the same time. It drives him crazy—he might just burn all those places down to the ground. 

But he never lets any of that show when you’re in the store. It’s not your fault after all that there are so many temptations out in the world. You just need a little help saying no.

You don’t have to worry though. After he becomes your boyfriend, he’ll be that help for you. 

Yeah, all you have to do is stay home and he’ll make sure you get what you need. He won’t let you indulge as much as you do now, of course, but he won’t be too strict either, so don’t fret. 

He’ll make sure you get all the right nutrients to lead a long, happy, healthy life—get your body ripe and ready to start a family. 

♡ BNHA – Deku, Kirishima, Hawks, Natsuo, Mirio ♡ JJK – Geto, Gojo ♡ HQ – Daichi, Kuro, Miya twins ♡ BLLK – Yukimiya, Aiku ♡ WB – Suo, Umemiya, Togame

Thursday is your is your random-ass friend who’ll drop by unannounced. It’s never anything crazy, though—no, just a fun hang-out to get a little headstart on the weekend. He’ll bring a joint or maybe some gummies—he likes to keep you guessing. And the two of you will watch cartoons or shitty reality TV, play a round or a dozen of Mario Cart or the like—giggling over each other’s commentary.

He’s chill, laidback, a fan of both comfortable silences and making good conversation. A really good friend.

Yeah, a really good friend who likes sticking his tongue down your throat when you’re knocked out from all the laced drugs he keeps passing you. 

“God, you’re so clueless,” he moans when bearing over your passed-out body where you lie all comfortably oblivious on the couch. “Just a naive cutie pie who’s gonna get her gullible little pussy used.”

You make him so hard—you have no idea how he licks your face and kisses your eyelids. Drunk of the power he has over you and feeling all but unhinged because of it. 

He feels your limp tongue with his fingers, playing with it while grinding against your thigh. Breaths thick with lust—eyes half-mast, getting overstimulated by all the nasty things he’s going to do to you and how you will never ever find out about any of it.

“You know I fuck you raw every time I come over? That’s right, every single time,” he laughs and shudders in delight, whispering the truth into your ear despite knowing you’re in no state to hear it. 

“Mh, I use this body like my own personal sex doll. There’s not a spot left I haven’t touched.” He tugs down your top and takes both your tits in his hand, squeezing them as if they belong to him because, in his mind, in these special precious moments he shares with you, there’s not a part of you that doesn’t belong to him and there’s not a part of you he can’t do whatever he wishes with.

And so, he sucks and licks your pretty tits too and keeps raving, “You’re all mine, every single part of you—I own it all.”

He pulls up your skirt and strokes your cunt through your panties, sliding his fingertip through the slit as if he’s teasing you even though you’re going to stay just as unresponsive no matter what. But in his mind, he imagines it wants him—that your pussy desperately craves him without you knowing—that it’s a secret the two of them share with each other and that they're somehow in cahoots on keeping you oblivious.

“You’re always so tight and wet—it takes everything in me not to cum inside, but we wouldn’t want you figuring things out and ruining our fun, now would we?” he rambles, finally sliding your panties to the side so that he could slip his digits within, pumping you sweetly while you sleep oh-so-soundly and blissfully unaware, getting you good and ready to take his cock in the next minute.

“Yeah, it’s gonna stay our fun little secret forever.” 

♡ BNHA – Denki, Kirishima, Dabi, Hawks, Shinso ♡ JJK – Geto, Gojo ♡ HQ – Kuro, Lev, Miya twins, Tendou ♡ BLLK – Nagi, Karasu, Shido ♡ WB – Togame

Friday is the bartender at your go-to club. 

He’s seen you in every state of drunkenness possible—from tipsy, plastered, sloppily drunk to flat-out shit-faced. You’re a bit of an alcoholic, you know that? Once you start, you can’t seem to stop yourself. If someone puts a drink in front of your face, you dont even think before grabbing it—all laughs and zero critical thinking.

Of course, the way he overserves you, you’re bound to get fucked up.

“Wanna go home…”

He holds your drowsy body against his chest, keeping you upright.

“My shift’s done, and my place is right above here, so you don’t gotta worry,” he says, soothing you as you cling to his side, utterly unable to stand on your own two feet, flinching at the flashing strobe lights and wincing from the blaring party music—feeling as if there’s a seismic eight earthquake raging on inside your poor head.

“Where’ my friends?” your words are so slurred, they’re barely audible. 

But he hears you, chuckling before cooing at you, “Let’s get you someplace comfortable, and then we’ll contact your friends, okay? Sound good?”

You burble a few incoherent sounds before uttering out a weak, “Okay…”

“Alright then, baby, don’t worry, I got you,” he purrs in return, getting a better grip around your body as he leads you out of the club, into the elevator, and up to his flat.

“I feel sick…” you mumble, whimpering.

And he coos, “I know, baby, it’s okay, I’ll help you.”

He leads you to his bathroom, setting you down on your knees in front of the toilet. You don’t think much of it when he lifts up your little party dress and tugs it off over your head—feeling as if he’s just making you comfortable. Yeah, he's just taking care of you.

“Let’s empty that system of trash, yeah?” 

He gets down on his own knees just behind you, cradling you as he gathers your hair back with both hands—gripping it a little too tightly in a single fist before being just as rough, sticking two of his thick digits deep into the back of your throat. 

You immediately gag and throw up. 

And he hums, sounding pleased while praising you, “That’s a good girl—get it all out.” 

He doesn’t pull his digits out despite you struggling, trying to wrench away—no, he just uses his bigger body to keep you pressed and hunched over the toilet bowl while finger-fucking the back of your throat—smiling sadistically while at it.

“Come on now, baby, I know you got more in there. Let it out.”

He keeps you there for half an hour, making you dry gag and spit, mascara streaming down your pretty face as he feels your smaller body convulse under his weight. Fuck, it’s enough to make his cock pre.

“Good girl,” he purrs, petting your hair and placing a kiss on your temple, all while you shudder and sniffle. “Let’s get you washed up, hm?” 

He reclaims his harsh grip on your hair, just as tightfisted, using it to make you crawl across the tiles until reaching the tub. He takes his place behind you—trapping you between his legs, thighs, and crotch, keeping you locked against the porcelain edge while he fetches the showerhead and immediately sprays your face with the cold at full force. 

“Open up, baby, let’s wash your mouth out.”

You yelp, whining, but he finds your protesting more amusing. Finding your nose with his other hand, he pinches it shut. Making you gape and gasp for breath through the water stream. 

But he doesn’t leave it at that. No. The shower head is about the same size as your fist and proving to be just small enough to allow him to force it into your mouth—all but waterboarding you.

He has to chuckle at your fussing—you’re so weak he barely has to put in any effort keeping you in place—he nearly busts in his pants feeling it. But the best part is how when he lets go of your nose, the water starts coming up and out your nostrils.

He let’s go before you drown, of course. Snuff isn’t on the menu tonight. He’s been stalking you for far too long—he can’t just waste it with foreplay.

You collapse on the floor, shivering and coughing—head a spinning mess, still wasted, riddled with shock yet stifled by exhaustion to do anything but lie there, trembling against the wet tiles.

“No, no, no, baby, you can't fall asleep yet. The party’s still far from over,” he admonishes, giving your cheek a few small slaps before grabbing your upper arm and pulling you up. “Yeah, come here—I’m far from finished with you...”

He carries you out of the bathroom and drops you on his bed. 

“God, you’re fucking dumb,” he grabs your face, pinching your lips while giving it an ugly kiss. “Did your mommy never tell you not to go home with strangers, huh?”

Leaving you there, he goes off to find your purse.

“Let’s let your friends know you’re home safe, hm.”

You try getting up while he’s gone, crawling around in the bedsheet like a worm, but not managing to get anywhere. 

He watches you and scoffs while typing up a message, hitting send to your most recent group chat. It only takes a minute before all the dumb bitches you call friends send hearts in return, saying how fun tonight was.

They have no idea what they’re missing out on.

He saunters back to you. Enjoying every second of watching you squirm. Thank fuck for alcohol, and god bless dumb party girls.

“Where do you think you’re going, huh?” He grins while grabbing your ankles and pulling you to the edge of the bed. “You’re not going anywhere, baby—you’re staying right here with me where I can have my fun with you.” 

His hands go up and down your soft skin, thinking of all the pretty marks he’s going to leave on you before curling his fingers around your slutty string panties.

The lace is all wet from his earlier actions as he tugs it down your thighs and legs, tossing it over his shoulder before spreading your legs and pulling you even closer. 

“Aw, you got your pussy all clean-shaven for me?” he awes with a smirk, “What a good girl you are.”

He’d planned on having a bit more fun with you before giving in to his urges, but seeing your pretty little cunt so ready to be fucked, he couldn't be asked to wait any longer, needing to fuck you like he’d been wanting to ever since he first spotted you in the club so many TGIFs ago.

“You sure like to party, don’t you?” he rasps while buckling up his belt and zipping himself down, letting his pants drop before grabbing his painfully hard cock. “Always at the club shaking this pretty little ass of yours—just a dumb party animal, huh?” He just knows your little cunt’s going to squeeze him tight like a trap—he isn’t even going to give you a finger test before bullying himself inside.

“Yeah, you like having fun—you havin’ fun now, babe?” he bows down, biting your cheek while putting his head to your entrance, pressing inside despite the resistance. 

He was right—you are fucking tight, taking his cock just the way he thought you would.

“Fucking slut,” he groans as he starts thrusting, hugging your thighs tight. “Begging to get gangbanged out on that fucking dance floor—dancin’ like a fucking stripper for free and for all to see.”

Fuck, how he’s going to ruin you—give you a necklace of hickies all around your throat as he fucks you into a mess, then press a beer bottle inside you once he’s done—keep his cum in you all night long.

“You deserve to be used. And I’m gonna use yah for all you’re worth.”

♡ BNHA – Shigaraki, Dabi, Hawks, Shinso ♡ JJK – Geto, Gojo, Naoya ♡ HQ – Kuro, Sakusa, Miya twins ♡ BLLK – Karasu, Shido, Aiku ♡ DS – Sanemi ♡ WB – Kaji, Togame

Saturday is a gym-bro. There isn’t a day he doesn’t go. Yep, not even Saturday.

You try to go as often as you can muster. But no, you don’t go every day, especially during the weekend—and that gives him a good reason to come up to when you do—teasing you about how he missed you last time. Acting all smug and cocky when asking you what bad habits you got up to on Friday that made you skip out.

He makes you feel sheepish standing next to him as he all but bullies you for being an itty-bitty weakling. 

He’s not exactly being fair. It’s not as if you’re especially weak compared to everyone else. It’s just that absolutely everyone’s an itty-bitty weakling standing next to him. The guy’s pure muscle and taller than most of the equipment, for crying out loud!

One time, he’d demonstrated his strength by daring you to hang from his bicep. And sure enough, he could lift you like you were nothing. Using you like a dumbbell—which is what he’ll sometimes call you.

You’re pretty sure he’s flirting with you. It’s flattering, but honestly, you think guys like him are a bit too much. His leg has the same girth as your thigh, and so does his neck—not to mention how you think he has enough strength in his hand alone to pulverize your skull in one simple squeeze.

Besides, he’s way too full of himself. You get being proud about health and fitness, but holy shit, does he never shut up? He’s always bragging about how much he benches and how many reps he does every day—and on top of everything, he seems to always be watching and studying you, commenting about your form, and mansplaining how you can get better.

He gets on your nerves. 

But then again, the guy does seem to know what he’s talking about. And after several weeks of neither seeing nor feeling much results, you finally decide to let him help you out.

And he does. Taking you through all the motions, from warm-ups to really pushing yourself, and now, the cool-down stretches. 

Though… you can’t exactly say there’s much cooling down involved in the way he has you full-feverish, sweating more than you did during the actual workout. In the locker room, suspended against his swole chest with his arms locked around your thighs, folding you clean in half, fingers locked behind your neck as he bounces you on his thick length. And fuck, even his fucking dick is riddled with muscles and veins—feeling as if he’s fucking you with an arm the way he’s stretching you out and punching your guts to mush.

“You holdin’ out, dumbbell?” he mocks, knowing you’re a mess. “Tap out any time, yeah?” 

Fuck him, you think—as if you can move your arms in this position—as if you can even speak or make any sound except full-on panting like a bitch and drooling like one too.

One more hit, and you’re spraying—and he insists on fucking you just as hard through it. Straight pounding your wet cunt until he’s sure you’re empty before dropping you back down on your own two feet.

But just because you’ve cum like a shower doesn’t mean he’s done. No, far from it, as he rushes you up against the lockers next and continues where he left off. 

The cool metal feels good against your cheek, so good you don’t even mind how he’s pressing you flat and free of air—keeping your neck in a chokehold and your hair in his other fist while fucking into you from behind.

“Trust me, this is way better exercise for someone like you,” he grunts with a grin, feeling you go limp. Your knees shot and your whole body listless, kept up solely by his strength like a puppet on strings.

He rasps out a laugh, “I’ll be your personal trainer, free of charge—just meet me after my reps, and I’ll put you to work and make sure you go home feeling proud.”

Yeah, sure, if you don’t pass out before then.

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Kirishima, Hawks ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Gojo, Toji ♡ HQ – Kuro, Miya twins ♡ BLLK – Kunigami, Shido, Baro, Aiku ♡ DS – Akaza ♡ WB – Togame

Sunday is the religious guy who always comes and knocks on your door to share his faith. 

You don’t share his views, but you’d invited him in for lemonade and pastries once. 

You don’t know exactly why. You usually just say no thank you and close the door, but that time, well, you’d just finished making cupcakes, and the house smelled like a bakery—it seemed like a waste not to have company.

Sundays were usually so anticlimactic you never really knew what to make of them. But after that, you came to really enjoy spending them baking, always trying out new fun recipes. And before you even knew it, since he always came knocking on your door on Sundays to enlighten you bout God, it quickly became a thing of ritual for you to invite him in.

You’d always thought strictly religious people such as him were more… how do you say… fanatic? Or, at the very least, be somewhat passionate about talking about their God. But he doesn’t seem to be very interested in telling you about that at all. No, he seems much more invested in you and how you’ve been since last time.

Oh well, you think—maybe he’s more accepting of people having different life views and isn’t deadset on changing minds after all. Maybe that was never his agenda—maybe he’s simply a good samaritan going door to door to see if he’s needed or wanted. That is what religion is all about, after all.

Little do you know, though… he’s not really a religious guy at all… 

No, he’s actually a serial killer who’d been hunting for his next victim. 

He thought you were just perfect, exactly his type—pretty and kind and dumb, just like prey should be. Oh, but then, you became a little too perfect, didn’t you? Inviting him in with such big doe eyes, despite living all alone, feeding him cupcakes, and telling him tales about your life as if he isn’t a total stranger. You might as well be begging him to make you his victim.

But he can’t waste perfection. 

And so, instead of abducting you and frolicking in your screams as he cuts you up into a dozen pieces, he abducts you and frolics in your screams as he sucks your pussy into a dozen orgasms.

♡ BNHA – Deku, Shoto, Denki, Hawks, Mirio ♡ JJK – Mahito, Geto, Gojo ♡ HQ – Kuro, Lev, Miya twins, Tendou ♡ CSM – Yoshida ♡ BLLK – Reo, Nagi, Bachira ♡ DS – Doma ♡ WB – Suo, Tomiyama

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[yukioos]

no one knew you and katsuki bakugo were in a relationship

katsuki was pissed off for no good reason. denki was asking stupid questions nonstop and eijiro unfortunately continued answering them, which sparked more questions in the electrokinetic. the blonde tried to hold in his anger and not express his annoyance, and he almost burst.

then he felt a familiar, soft hand on his back.

normally he would’ve pushed the hand off quickly, as he wasn’t too fond of physical touch from other people. but you? a whole different story. you could be all over him, cover him in lipstick and love bites, and he’d flaunt it like he was the luckiest man in the world.

he paused stabbing his fork, and looked at you, admiring the sweet smile you showed so often. he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you down to the seat next to him, making your thighs touch. to anyone else, it would seem as if katsuki was possessed by someone. since when does he even lay a hand on someone in a nice way?

the blonde looked at you up and down, “come over to my dorm tonight.” he commanded with a smug expression. he was bold, always running straight into conversations.

you rolled your eyes and tried to move closer to your boyfriend, who stared down at you with a certain glint in them. you answered, “i was already planning to, kats, you don’t need to tell me.” you looked away from his face for a minute, “won’t we get in trouble if mister aizawa sees us in the same dorm?”

he scoffed, “you always worry about that. if it makes you feel better, i’ll come to your room instead, ‘kay?” his voice sounded a bit agitated, but you knew he thought it was amusing that you were always worried about getting caught in a boy’s dorm.

you nodded and placed a kiss on his lips, and which he did the same, not wanting to let go. the two of you completely forgot about denki and eijiro across from you, who stopped their conversation to stare at you with their jaws on the ground.

the two of you pulled away from one another, and his arm still lay comfortably on your side. you shyly smiled, flustered with the intimacy. he chuckled in response, loving seeing his sweet girl embarrassed but still wanting more. once he gained self-awareness again, he realized the two meatheads across him were silent.

katsuki glared at eijiro and denki, whose jaws were still dropped, and eyes were wide. he grunted, “what are you lookin’ at?”

the redhead immediately replied, “what the hell do you mean?! you two just kissed!” he pointed at the two of you.

denki continued, “yeah, so does that mean you two are dating?!” bolts started to fly from his hair and spring outwards due to the shock.

before your boyfriend could reply, the two said in sync, “you never told us!”

katsuki finally replied, with a bit of sass apparent, “you never asked. plus, we’re always together, you should’ve noticed already, damn meatheads.”

the table was silent for a minute besides the sounds of you and the blonde taking small portions of food from his tray. his warm hand rubbed your hip, and you smiled at the touch, leaning in closer to him.

not long after, mina came over and saw how close you and the hothead were. she stood a couple feet away from katsuki’s table, then she tilted her head and looked at eijiro, who stared at her back.

suddenly, denki exclaimed, “y/n and bakugo are dating!”

mina shouted, “what?!” with the crash of her metal tray falling, along with all her lunch.

hope this layout looks good! didn’t wanna put multiple images so i just chose a divider. also im gonna start taking katsuki and ochaco requests once im done with some in my inbox! hope you guys like this one, sorry i didn’t write for a while, i had bad writer’s block. trying to get back on schedule!

divider creds: @cafekitsune

[dollyfetti]

“do you think we’re soulmates?”

“i don’t believe in that shit.” katsuki’s hand tangles in your messy hair sprawled against the pillow he fought you over and ultimately gave to you with a small roll of his eyes.

you huff against his chest, frowning at his words. “you don’t think we were meant to be?”

“hell no.” he grins almost a little mockingly

“why not..?” you mutter, thankful your face is out of his sight because your disappointed expression is really quite laughable.

it’s silent for a long moment, and in the dark room, you assume he fell asleep. you sigh, cautiously readjusting your position to be more comfortable as you shut your eyes, ready to sleep.

that is until his hand drops from your hair onto your arm, rubbing small circles. “i don’t think i’m meant to be with anyone.” he whispers, staring up at his ceiling, still covered in glow in the dark stars from when he was a kid. “i think i just got lucky.”

you keep your eyes closed, half asleep as you respond immediately, “well, i don’t believe in luck. everything happens for a reason, suki.”

“that’s your prerogative, i guess.” he hums, his motions slowing down against your arm, resting there lazily.

“mm,” you wrap your arms around his torso, your cheek smushing against his chest.

another long moment passes, and katsuki’s still staring at the ceiling, lost in thought.

“you asleep?” he murmurs, careful not to wake you if you are.

“no, baby.”

he nods to himself, leaning down to plant a kiss on your head. “okay. i love you. thank you.” he whispers before resting back on his bed and shutting his eyes.

“thank you for what?” you reply, smiling softly at his affection.

he shrugs lightly before sleep takes over him, his arms engulfed around you without another word.

[uwtloml]

Ok so what if we accidentally send the mha boys nudes

- 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘩𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘴 𝘯𝘶𝘥𝘦𝘴!

𝘧𝘵. 𝘬𝘢𝘵𝘴𝘶𝘬𝘪 𝘣𝘢𝘬𝘶𝘨𝘰𝘶, 𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘬𝘪 𝘬𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘪, 𝘦𝘫𝘪𝘳𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘢, 𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘰𝘴𝘩𝘪 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘰, 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘺𝘢 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘪, 𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘢 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘬𝘪, 𝘬𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘢𝘮𝘪, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘢 𝘢𝘪𝘻𝘢𝘸𝘢

a/n i hope i added all the characters u wanted 🤍

[suksatoru]

plushies galore! ⋆˚୨♡୧˚⋆ katsuki x you

katsuki lays sprawled on your bed with one, muscular arm shifting onto your side. he rips away the stuffed animal that was laying peacefully in your arms, before promptly chucking it full force across your room.

"katsuki!"

he ignores you, nuzzling into the spot where your hello kitty plush was laying previously- right on your chest- as he wraps his arms around you with a satisfied sigh

"what the hell was that for?" you whine, attempting to push him off- which unfortunately doesn't work, because he lowers all of his body weight on top of you as you gasp and squirm in his arms- telling the heavy bastard to get off and go get your plushy!

"she was lookin' at me funny. piece of shit."

katsuki yelps loudly when you pinch the muscle of his arm, scowling even further as you look at him with a glare

"she can't help the way her face is! go say sorry!"

he mutters something under his breath as you pull your brows together in confusion, watching his red eyes glare angrily at the hello kitty plushy that laid helplessly on the floor

"hm? what was that?" you asked sternly as a growl rumbles deep in chest. he lifts his head from your stomach, his lips curling into something similar to a pout as looks away

"she took my spot too... i guess." he huffs, flipping off your cuddly companion as you blink back your surprise. a soft giggle leaves your lips as you realize what was going on. katsuki was just jealous.

"you know you're my favorite, right?" you coo, gently threading a hand through his spiky hair as the tension from his back disperses. he sinks further into your body as he nods his head slowly

"damn right I am." he mutters, pressing feather soft kisses onto your tummy as you gently bop your nose against his

"i love you, katsuki." you whisper, watching his eyes soften a fraction at your words as he sighs

"i know, brat. everyone does."

he braces himself for impact the moment the words leave his mouth, hiding his face against your skin as you smack his head with a wack! he groans with a laugh, sending you a small smile - one that was specifically reserved for you.

"now, can you please go say sorry to her?" you cross your arms, looking down at him with a hopeful smile as he squints back, tightening his arms around your waist stubbornly.

"hell no."

"katsuki."

"...fine."

[finchfaes]

Oh no I've fallen and can't get up

[botanicsoul]

Roses can wait

Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Reader

Explicit (18+)

Description: Bakugou was determined to ruin you, and he wasn’t about to let a phone call stop him. Now? You were going to pay for it.

𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧. 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘

Bakugou had you spread out on your bed, legs hooked over his shoulders, his tongue dragging slow, lazy circles over your clit. His fingers curled inside you, stretching you open, teasing that sweet spot that had you seeing stars.

It was embarrassing how fast he had you unraveling, body trembling under his touch, gasps and moans slipping from your lips before you could stop them.

“You’re so fuckin’ sensitive,” he muttered, voice muffled as he flicked his tongue against you. “Haven’t even gotten started, and you’re already falling apart.”

“K-katsuki—” You choked on your words when he sucked your clit into his mouth, groaning like you were his last meal.

Then—your phone rang.

You barely registered it at first, too drunk on pleasure, but the name flashing on the screen caught your attention. Mina.

You reached for it with shaky fingers, and Bakugou—who definitely noticed—grinned against your skin.

The second you answered, his mouth was on you again, tongue dipping into your entrance, fingers pressing deeper, harder.

“Hey, Mina,” you breathed, trying—and failing—to sound normal.

“Hey, babe! Just wanted to remind you we’re going on our double date in an hour! You guys didn’t forget, right?”

Bakugou’s scarlet eyes flicked up to yours, dark with amusement. His lips brushed your clit as he murmured, “Better keep talkin’, sweetheart.”

Your body jerked at the vibration of his voice, pleasure coiling tight in your stomach.

“I—n-no, I didn’t forget,” you said, voice a little too breathy.

Mina giggled. “You sure? You sound kinda out of breath. You okay?”

Bakugou chuckled into your cunt, dragging his tongue up your slit before sucking your clit into his mouth, hard. You slapped a hand over your mouth, muffling the desperate sound that almost slipped.

“I-I’m just—uh—” Your breath hitched when he added a third finger, stretching you wider. “Getting r-ready!”

Bakugou nipped at your inner thigh, eyes gleaming. “Damn right you are.”

Your free hand fisted in the sheets as he worked you over, lips and fingers moving in sync, his tongue pressing slow, deliberate strokes against your swollen clit. The heat in your stomach was unbearable, a desperate ache building, pushing you closer—

“Great! I’ll see you both soon then, yeah?”

Your entire body tensed. Bakugou fucking knew you were about to come. His tongue flicked faster, fingers moving in a way that had your vision going white.

“Y-Yeah, see you soon!” You rushed out, immediately tossing your phone aside, barely hearing Mina’s goodbye before you hung up.

The second the call ended, your head dropped back with a strangled moan, pleasure crashing into you as your orgasm ripped through you. Your thighs clamped around Bakugou’s head, your back arching off the bed as you came hard, waves of heat rolling through you.

But he didn’t stop.

His fingers kept moving, his tongue dragging through your folds, slow, teasing licks that had you whimpering. Your body jerked with overstimulation, thighs twitching, but Bakugou held you down, sucking your clit back into his mouth as you sobbed.

“Too much—” You gasped, hands weakly pushing at his head.

Bakugou only chuckled, nipping at your thigh. “Nah, you can take it.”

His fingers curled again, pressing deep, and you let out a broken whimper, legs trembling. Your body was still too sensitive, but that only egged him on. He was watching you so closely, eating up every little sound, every twitch.

“You think you can answer the phone when I’m eatin’ this pretty little pussy?” His voice was smug, fingers still buried inside you.

“I-I thought it was important!”

Bakugou clicked his tongue, withdrawing his fingers—only to slap your clit, making you yelp.

“You’re a real brat, y’know that?” He leaned over you, pressing his fingers to your lips. “Open.”

You obeyed without thinking, tongue darting out as he slid his fingers into your mouth. The taste of yourself coated them, warm and slick, and his pupils blown as he watched you suck.

“Good fuckin’ girl.” His voice was low, thick with arousal. “S’pose I should reward you for bein’ so sweet.”

He smirked, dragging the head of his cock through your soaked folds.

“Now, lemme see how many times I can make you come before dinner.”

His cock was still buried deep inside you, his breath hot against your lips, his body radiating heat as he came down from his high.

But you weren’t catching a break.

Bakugou’s hands wandered, trailing down your sides, across your stomach, his fingers brushing over the mess between your thighs. His touch was too gentle, too teasing—and you knew exactly what that meant.

“You still got an hour ‘til dinner, don’t you?” His voice was smug, breathless, but still cocky as ever.

Your body twitched at the implication, still reeling from the last orgasm. “Katsuki—”

He smirked, dragging a thumb through the mixture of his release and your arousal, bringing it up to your clit. He barely applied pressure, just a slow, lazy circle—just enough to make you twitch.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he murmured, pressing soft kisses along your jaw, down your neck. “Thought you wanted to see if you could handle it?

You whimpered, thighs trying to close around his hand, but he tut-tutted, forcing them apart.

“you’re actin’ shy?” His lips curled into a smirk, fingers dipping lower, teasing your oversensitive entrance. “Nah, baby, you don’t get to tap out now.”

You knew he was enjoying this—the way you were squirming, overstimulated and helpless under his touch.

His cock twitched inside you, still half-hard.

Fuck.

“You’re already gettin’ tight around me already, you must really want it.” He groaned, rolling his hips just slightly, just enough for you to feel it. You bit your lip, trying to shake your head—but your body told him otherwise.

“Liar,” he muttered. Then, without warning, he pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach.

You barely had time to react before he was manhandling you, his hands gripping your hips, lifting them up, arching your back just right—until you were spread out beneath him, ass up, face pressed into the pillow.

“Fuck, look at you,” he groaned, hands squeezing your ass, pulling your cheeks apart just to watch your swollen, soaked cunt twitch in anticipation. “So messy—such a fuckin’ pretty pussy.”

A slap landed against your ass, the sharp sting sending heat through your body. You yelped, fingers twisting in the sheets, but he just chuckled.

“You like that?” He grinned, smoothing a hand over the stinging skin before grabbing your waist, aligning himself at your entrance again. “Then you’re gonna love this.”

He slammed into you in one deep thrust, stretching you all over again.

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream, body jerking at the overstimulation.

“Yeah, that’s fuckin’ right,” Bakugou groaned, fingers digging into your hips. “Take it, baby.”

His pace was relentless—his hips snapping into yours, his cock dragging against that sweet, sensitive spot with every thrust. You felt everything—too much, too good, the pleasure burning through you so intensely that your mind blanked.

The sounds filling the room were filthy—your moans, his groans, the wet, obscene slap of skin on skin.

Your arms gave out, your cheek pressing into the pillow as he fucked you into the mattress. “S-suki—”

“I know, baby,” he gritted out, voice strained, breathless. “I fuckin’ know.” He flipped you on your back before quickly sticking himself deep inside of you again.

His hand slid down, pressing against your stomach, right where he was hitting deepest. “You feel me right here, huh?”

You struggle to nod your head yes. “Ain’t so talkative now, huh?” He pulled back slightly, shifting to hook one of your legs over his arm, angling himself deeper. Your eyes rolled back, a sob slipping from your lips when he slammed into that perfect spot inside you.

Your response was a broken sob, your walls clenching around him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, “you’re so tight—‘m gonna fuckin’ ruin you, baby.”

His fingers found your clit again, rubbing fast, mercilessly, dragging you to the edge too quickly.

“Cum for me again, princess,” he ordered, voice sharp, commanding. “Cum all over my cock.”

And you did.

Your body locked up, pleasure crashing into you like a tidal wave. Your vision blurred, your breath caught in your throat, your walls milking his cock as you came hard.

Bakugou groaned, his rhythm faltering, his grip on your hips bruising as he fucked you through it. “Shit— I’m gonna—”

With one last deep, brutal thrust, he spilled inside you, a low, guttural moan tearing from his throat as he filled you up.

The both of you collapsed, his weight pressing against you, your bodies slick with sweat, chests heaving.

For a moment, the only sound was your ragged breathing.

Bakugou chuckled. “Think Mina’s gonna notice if we’re late?”

You groggily grabbed your phone, panic setting in when you saw the time. You had completely lost track of it.

Mina’s texts were waiting for you:

Mina (8:38): Girl… are you guys coming? Me and Kiri already ordered the apps!

Mina (8:50): You two are actual sluts.

Mina (8:51): We can try again next week. Call me when you’re done fucking 🥰❤️

Your face turned bright red.

‘fuck. me.’

[peachsukii]

content // bakugo + reader are married (26/27). talks of children/pregnancy. semi-breeding kink. intoxicated dirty talk.

Imagining that the annual Hero Gala is the perfect place for Bakugo to let loose once a year, celebrating with his colleagues about their success and knocking back endless drinks without hesitation. It's the only time he allows himself to truly let go. It's time to go home when his hands can't stop wandering your form in front of everyone.

You're barely through the door of your home before his hands are hiking up your dress and pressing your back to the door, begging to let him make a mess of you.

"C'mon baby," Bakugo slurs while messily sucking on your exposed collarbone, pressing his groin against your thigh to let you how badly he wants you. "Need'ta taste you...feel you."

Whenever he gets like this, it's all give give give, never take. Bakugo becomes obsessed with pleasuring you, and only you. He doesn't even take himself into account, too love drunk and lust driven to care about his own release. But tonight? Bakugo's got a new agenda in mind, thanks to Mina and Kirishima's talks of starting a family earlier that night. All it took was Mina to casually say, "She'd make such a perfect mom, don't you think?" while gesturing to you across the room.

And goddamn, it consumed him whole.

"Wanna make you a momma, gorgeous," he mumbles against the shell of your ear as he slides his fingers seamlessly into your panties. Your thighs clench, a soft whine falling from your lips when two fingers slip between your slick covered folds. "Mm, ya like the sound'a that? You're soaked."

Bakugo's laugh is sinister before licking along your jawline and crashing into a heated kiss, whiskey lingering on his tongue. He pulls away, fingers pumping languidly into your pussy, a string of saliva connecting the two of you before whispering against your lips.

"Gonna stuff that pretty cunt'a yours full of my cum an' fuck it into you all night long. Eat it out of ya and fill you up all over again." He stops to lick at your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth with a loud pop to leave you gasping for breath. "Fuck you so deep that you'll be leakin' cum for weeks."

Holy shit. You could faint on the spot.

"F-fuck Katsuki...bedroom, now."

[kakashisbabymama218]

katsuki likes to send you videos of him jerking off.

he’s locked himself in the bathroom at the frat party denki and eijirou convinced him to come to, even though he’d rather have you sitting that pretty pussy on his face. the only reason he came was because you were stuck at work for the next few hours.

he had snuck away and was going to facetime you but then he got a better idea. he turns his phone on and opens the camera, fingers pressing the record button as he goes to push his pants down.

katsuki makes a show of it too, taking his time undoing the drawstring of his sweats, pushing them down just enough to have his fat cock springing free and slapping against his stomach.

he’s hard as a rock, pre smeared along his tip. he rocks his hips back and forth, letting his heavy length swing before he’s taking it in his hand. he strokes himself once, then twice, groaning quietly in the background.

his hand wrapped tightly around the base of his dick, his thumb rubbing at the bulbous tip that’s practically leaking precum. he has his shirt pulled up, his toned stomach showing slightly in the camera. katsuki takes the hand that was just on his dick to scratch at his abs, doing what you’d do if you were there with him. bakugou loves the feeling of your nails dragging back and forth against his skin, the marks you leave on his back as he pounds into you are his favorite.

katsuki wishes it was your hand wrapped around his dick, soft and small unlike his calloused hands.  or maybe even your mouth, all warm and tight and wet. you’re so pretty when you got a mouth full of dick. Soft, pink lips stretched as far as they’ll go as you struggle to fit even his thick tip past your lips.

and he’s so vocal in the background.

“fuckkk pretty girl—” his voice deeper than usual and laced with arousal.

“wish it was you bouncing on this dick” he strokes himself faster, handing moving up and down as the camera follows his every move.

“wanna feel you cummin on this dick baby”

 “don’t worry pretty girl, imma come stretch that pussy out when you get off”

“fuck princess, gonna fill you up. get you nice a full of my cum” he’s close, all it takes is a couple more strokes before he’s cumming, thick spurts of cum shooting out of him.

“shit” he curses, breathing hard enough for you to hear over the faint background music from the party still going on inside the house.

a couple of ropes of cum land on the screen of his phone and he images it was your face instead, painting your face with his seed. he hits send on the video before cleaning up the mess he made.

katsuki finds denki a few minutes later, high as fuck as he makes out with some girl. he sends both of the boy a quick text letting them know he’s heading back to his place and chill till you got off.

Part 2

[mackenziebrooks]

Bakugou would definitely be the one to wake up in the middle of the night to his and your baby crying. Hearing their little voice through the baby monitor. He slowly gets up and walks to the room in his baggy sweat pants. Picking up his little baby son or daughter in his arms, rocking them softly to get them to calm down. “Shhh it’s okay baby, there’s no need to cry. Daddy’s here” he coos softly to them, looking into their ruby eyes like his.

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: implied noncon, break-up, toxic relationship, crazy ex-boyfriend, intrusive thoughts, anger issues

♡ FEM reader

Thinking about gamer boyfriend who doesn’t know what he has before it’s gone…

You told him you were leaving, but it didn’t dawn on him that’s what you’d meant. He was deep in-game—he couldn't pay attention to your whining. He figured you went out to the store or something, but later, after midnight, he realized he was hungry, and you were nowhere. Not in the kitchen making dinner, not in his bed sleeping, and not in the bathroom either. 

Did you go home? He wonders, standing alone in the dark, empty silence—feeling a little put off at the sight of his room—how even in the dim light, it’s a clear fucking mess. You usually tidy up a bit for him, but you hadn’t this time—no, there’s old underwear and socks everywhere, shirts and hoodies too, empty cans and pizza boxes. It’s a bit gross, actually, he admits while scratching his neck. 

The drawer he’d dedicated to you in his dresser is open and empty. Did you take everything to get it cleaned? You are a bit of a neat freak—unlike him. Suppose that would be something you’d do. Weird of you not to take any of his laundry as well, though.

Oh, well. He shoots you a “gn bby” on his phone, then collapses on his bed and falls asleep—smiles a bit as he does so—it’s nice not having you here to tell him to undress and go shower first. Yeah, you can be such a nag sometimes.

He wakes up late in the day. You’re not there. Usually, you come over to wake him with some breakfast. He checks his phone—you didn’t reply last night. It isn't that weird—you were probably already asleep at that point. But why didn’t you answer when you woke up? There’s no way you’re still asleep, right? 

Fuck, he’s hungry.

“gm,” he sends—contemplates asking you what’s up but doesn’t. You must be busy with something not to have checked your phone yet.

The entire day goes by, and you still don’t answer. He doesn’t take it too hard. But he won’t deny being a bit miffed.

It’s when three days go by that he’s well and truly confused. He’s sent you several texts at this point, even called you a few times, getting a little worried something had happened to you before he got the message that he’d been blocked. 

What the fuck’s going on with you?

He thinks back to the last time he saw you. What did you even say? He can’t remember. Something about being tired—something, something—I’m leaving.

He swallows thickly. No… No way, that’s what you meant, right? No, can’t be. You love him. You’re his pretty girlfriend. The one that comes with his food and later comes back for his bowl. The one that sucks his dick under his desk as he goes on a kill streak. The warm pillow he uses when he finally drags his bad posture to the bed and falls asleep.

No. Where the fuck are you? Are you sick or something? Yeah, must be, right? So delirious you’ve managed to block him somehow. You were probably only trying to call him back. You were never so tech-savvy—a fever must have worsened it. He should go to you. He can bring his pc. Or no, he can get you and bring you back here. Yeah, that would be easier.

He calls your roommate, tells her he’s coming, and asks her to let you know to get ready.

“What are you talking about?” she says through a piece of gum—her voice all dull as if bothered to have picked up the phone. Or, rather, she sounds a bit drunk. There’s music in the background. “Girl broke up with you, didn’t she?”

His blood runs cold at that. A lump forms in his throat—a thick, unmovable lump that makes him think he’s about to throw up. “N-no, she didn’t.”

“Hey!” she calls out, not to him, though—she’s covered the mic with her hand. He only hears the muted distortion of voices and bass through it before your roommate comes back to him. 

“Sorry—she’s telling me a different story,” she relays, popping her gum in his ear before sneering—or, at least, that’s what he pictures. “Honestly, how long did you think she was gonna put up with cleaning up after you anyway? I know I wouldn’t last half as long as she has.” The lump in his throat grows thicker, swelling up until it's choking him. “Anyway, good luck.”

She hangs up, and he drops his phone. There’s a crack as it hits the floor. And then something wet on his face. Something hot. Something searing as it tracks down his cheeks and drops off like acid onto the floor. 

What should he do? What do you want him to do? To tidy up? He can do that! He’s not some imbecile like your friend makes him out to be who can’t even do the basics of chores. Of course, he can! And so that’s what he does—hands shaking as he tidies. 

It feels foreign, and he’s not even sure where to start. And it quickly proves to be a lot worse than what he’d thought. Beyond stinky clothes and dirty dishes, there’s trash, rotten food, sticky surfaces, and other things he can’t even put a name to. It’s gross, actually. Downright disgusting. How long’s it been like this?

Even after everything’s put in order, there’s a smell that lingers and no end to the dust he has to clean—cringing at the little insects that come crawling out of their hiding spots. Geez—has it really been this bad?

He falls asleep on the floor at some point—having completely forgotten to eat—then wakes up feeling awful the next day. The kitchen is barren, and so he orders take-out. Eats and then goes back to cleaning. There’s still a lot left.

It’s barely recognizable once he’s done. Nice and bright and tidy and clean. There’s a sum of a dozen large black trash bags in the hallway he needs to take out, but other than that, everything’s perfect—perfectly presentable to have you come over again.

Still, he gives it a couple of days. He knows you. You’re going to change your mind. You’re too sweet to be breaking up with him. Too nice. You wouldn’t just leave him, not like this. Yeah, you’re only trying to teach him a lesson—after a while, you’ll come back on your own. You’ll be ecstatic over what he’s done with the place—apologetic even as you tell him you were wrong about him—and then everything will go back to normal. Make-up sex and everything. 

But you don’t. No. You’re nowhere to be seen or found—even after a week’s passed. You’re still gone. And he’s starting to believe you might just be gone for real.

No. He sees what this is. You’re waiting for the grand gesture, aren’t you? He never knew you could be so petty—but it’s actually kind of cute. Fine then. He’ll play along—come crawling to you on his hands and knees with the best apology you’ve ever heard. And then you can end this whole thing.

And so he finds himself at your place, pressing the buzzer, not knowing if he’s catching you at home—if not, he’ll just try again tomorrow, and so on until he does. He hears someone at the other side of the door—they must be looking at him through the peephole. It takes a while before the locks click and open.

“Hey…”

It’s you. 

“Hi,” he smiles in return, happy to see you. He’s been so nervous, but somehow, your face and voice are enough to calm him down.

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

Oh, of course. You weren’t expecting him. Still, it feels weird of you not to gush happily over the surprise and rush him inside. It’s not every day he goes outside—you should be a little impressed.

But no, of course, you’re playing the part of fed-up girlfriend—acting hard-to-get. He’s got you—he’ll play his part, so don’t worry.

“I wanted to apologize,” he announces. “I haven’t been a good boyfriend—I see that now. But I’ll be better from now on, I promise—come over, and I’ll prove it to you.”

As far as apologies and promises go, he thinks that sounded pretty smooth—not too desperate, not too demanding. Pretty slick, if he can say so himself.

And so, why aren’t you smiling? He can understand being nervous—so is he—but why do you look guilty?

“That’s really nice. And… I’m really happy you’re looking better. But…” you start, and his gut’s already wrenching. “I think you need more time for yourself to just… enjoy what it’s like to be independent, you know?” 

No, he doesn’t know. What are you saying? And why are you holding onto the doorknob like that? Holding it steady as if you’re planning to shut it as soon as you can—why?

“Thanks for stopping by. It was nice seeing you—it really was. Take care of yourself, okay?”

It’s shutting—his plans—disappearing right before his face. He knows he isn’t owed a second shot, but this isn’t fair. You can’t be serious—are you?

“What? No, wait—” He stops you, weighing his own hand on the door, keeping it open. “Listen, I’m good now. I’ve pulled it together, you’ll see—I’ll come in, and we’ll talk about it.”

You resist, using both hands to almost push the door back on him. “I have company, so—”

“What’s up?” another voice announces himself—deep and presentful. He comes into view behind you—taller than you, taller than him—looking down his nose at him with a raised brow. “Who’s this?”

You look a bit panicked—no, embarrassed. “Oh, uhm—”

Why are you embarrassed? “Who’s that?” The bitterness in his voice surprises even himself—loaded with the same type of spite he seethes with when players use cheats to win.

“He’s an old friend, but he was just leaving,” you say, but you’re not speaking to him. No, you stroke a hand over the guy’s broad chest, looking up at him apologetically before turning back to him again, voice strict in a way he’s never heard, “Bye.”

“But—”

You shut the door. On him. In his face. 

His skin crawls—goosefleshed and chilled. Was that a date? No, right? You have a brother, don’t you? Yes, must be. No way you’re dating. There’s no way, right? It’s only been a week… no way you’ve moved on in only a week, right?

You looked really nice—wearing that sweet blouse with all the little bows and that cute little skirt you’d always wear out on dates. Damn, when was the last time the two of you went on a date? Must be months ago, if he can’t even remember. 

Come to think of it, the two of you would always have sex when you wore that skirt. Yeah, it’s your fuck-me-skirt. Are you going to fuck this guy too now? On the first date? Is it your first date? No, probably not—who has their first date at home? That’s more like a third or even fourth or fifth date, right? Were you dating him while the two of you were still together? Have you been cheating on him all this time? Laughing at him behind his back—talking shit with your bitch-roommate? About what a pathetic loser he is? About how he’s a slob who can’t take care of himself? How he needs you? Have you!?

He shouldn't be texting you all this from a random number. He knows that, but the full realization doesn’t dawn on him before it’s too late, and he’s sent you over a hundred messages, some small and others at such a length they take up more than what the screen allows. What the fuck’s he doing? He’d bought the new sim so that he could contact you in an emergency, not to spam you with accusations like some crazy ex. 

He starts deleting them—in some desperate wishful thinking, with the hope you wouldn’t see them, but then the dotted line starts beating, jumping in taunt. His eyes are wide as he stares at it, holding his breath. Ten seconds pass before it disappears—no message sent.

You blocked him again. And he can’t blame you.

And yet, he can’t let you go, either. 

He spends the first few weeks hauled up at home—his flat becoming as trashed as ever as he doomscrolls all your socials through a fake account. You’ve deleted all the pictures of him—even the ones of yourself when you’ve been with him. There’s no evidence the two of you were even dating.

How could you do this? How could you erase him like this?

He has questions, and he needs answers. You can’t just do this—the two of you haven’t even had the talk—he hasn’t even got to say his side yet!

He just wants to talk to you—why won’t you let him? He just wants you to hear him out. He deserves that much. But since you’re not giving him any option of contacting you, he’s had to resort to medieval methods—lurking outside your apartment like some creep, eyes peeled on your building’s entrance, waiting for you to show.

He’s there for hours, patiently—refusing to go home—thinking he’ll be there all night if he has to.

But then there you are—coming out of the complex, stepping down the alley, dressed all nice for the night. You seem to be in a hurry—are you on your way to another date? Well, wherever you’re going and whoever you’re meeting, they can wait.

“I need to talk—” he doesn’t get the words out.

You’d noticed him following you and tried to out-pace him—make him lose interest. But the area your flat’s situated in is a sketchy one—at least for girls, and you’d made the decision long ago that you’d never walk outside unprepared. And so, as soon as feeling the stranger's hand on your arm, you whip around to maze him right in the face.

“Argh!” he screeches and stumbles back, hands covering his eyes. “Fuck—ow-fuckin’dammit, shit—what the fuck did you do that for? Fuck—”

You were going to make a run for it, but the familiar voice has you halt—wait a minute…

You call his name, and sure enough, it’s him who looks up at you through the teary redness of your pepper spray assault. 

“Oh my god, shit—I’m so sorry—I thought you were a—” you stop yourself. “Fuck—never mind. Come—” You link his arm with yours and lead him back inside the apartment you just left. “I’ll help you rinse—I’m so sorry.”

You rush him to the bathroom, seating him atop the toilet lid as you wet a cloth and start soaking his face.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see it was you—” you apologize again. “Are your eyes okay?”

“Not really,” he hisses through clenched teeth, though steals himself soon after. “But they're getting better…”

His face unswells after a good thirty minutes, after which he’s able to keep his eyes open again—sore and no doubt bloodshot, yet fine, if not for that. You’ve moved him into the living room instead, having done what you could to rinse off your attack—having provided him with an apologetic glass of water. Now sitting with him, waiting for the effects to wear off.

It feels nice to be with you again despite the circumstances—but it’s awkward how you don’t speak.

“You look nice,” he says—trying to break the tension. It’s not as if the two of you are strangers, and so you shouldn’t act like it.

“Oh, I’m going to a party—roomie’s already there, so…” you say, sitting at the edge of your seat. “If you’re okay, I should probably head out… soon.”

A silence fills his head, as well as the room—a heavy stillness before a single word leaves him. “What?” His face sinks—part confusion, part offense, and something else—something that makes his voice come out accusatory and outraged, “You maze me in the face, and you’re just gonna fuck off to a party?”

Your eyes widen.“Well… it’s—”

“No—what the fuck?” He stands abruptly. His head’s so empty except for the blinding darkness slowly overtaking it—leaving him feeling boiling and all but nuclear. “That’s all I get? Are you fucking serious?” He’s shouting now—and then he’s on you, with one hand fisting your pretty dress and another around your throat. “First, you dump me without warning, assault me like some maniac, give me a lousy apology, and then tell me to fuck off? What the fuck’s wrong with you?”

You splutter his name and push, but it’s like fighting a wall.

“Where are you actually going dressed like that, huh? What’s so fucking important? Is it another date? What, with that same oaf I saw here last time? Or is it someone new already? I know how flighty you can be. I mean, fuck, I knew you were a little freaky, but I didn’t know I was dating a fucking slut!”

His strength comes as a complete and utter devastating shock. You’d think sitting in a chair all day would make any muscle obsolete—but the hands holding you don’t right now is more than anything you could hope to fight against.

“Stop! Get off me—” you cry, thrashing hopelessly as he lifts your dress and rips your lace panty down your thighs. 

A growl in his voice and nothing but rage on his face.

“If anyone can get it—I might as well help myself.”

♡ INSPO

♡ BNHA – Shigaraki, Dabi, Denki, Kirishima ♡ BLLK – Nagi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[yukioos]

coming home to katsuki wearing grey sweatpants and nothing else

today was luckily, uneventful. you were called into your agency to capture one villain, then were sent back home because there was nothing else to do. it truly was a happy and calm day for you, which hadn’t happened in a couple of years.

so you sprinted home, having not taken a car to get to your agency, as it was only a few blocks away. you opened the door with the key you kept in your costume, which probably wasn’t the smartest idea.

once you stepped in, the smell of your favorite food invaded your senses. did katsuki try and make you a meal while you were gone? a smile found its way to your face. the blonde wouldn’t normally admit his admiration or love for someone, but he found multiple ways to express it, like cooking a meal for someone.

the first thing you saw was katsuki’s tall figure with his back facing you. scars lay on his back, scattered, some big and some small, the same as the ones that covered his body. you walked up to him before freezing in your tracks. was he wearing grey sweatpants?

your face heated up at what he chose to wear. he was always attractive, but shit, he knew what he was doing to you.

a hum escaped your lips, “you makin’ something for me, baby?” your fingers ran down his rough back.

his head turned, and a small smile formed on his face. his crimson eyes looked into yours as he mumbled, “making your favorite,” he paused, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer, “thought it’d be done by the time you came home, but your mission was pretty quick.” he planted a kiss right atop your head and comfortingly rubbed your hip.

heat began to coat you in a thick layer, making you whimper at the warmth. god, those sweatpants were doing something to you. the way his toned back was so large and his arms were so muscular stood out to you. it was odd. you saw him shirtless all the time, whether he was changing, lounging around the house, or sleeping with you, he rarely had a shirt on. it was especially weird that this time was different. did the pants have that big of an effect on you?

katsuki kept noticing how your eyes were looking everywhere but him, especially not his pants.

you mumbled, “i’m gonna go change,” and pulled away, not without a hug, but a large hand on your wrist stopped you.

he wasn’t going to let you off so easily.

“is it really bothering you that much?” he smirked, forcing you to look at him. “y’know, i would never call you weak, but this is making me rethink that. you’re getting all worked up over some sweatpants.”

your immediate instinct is to deny it, “wh— huh? quit it, katsuki, i don’t know what you’re talking about—“

“oh, but you do.” he teased, leaving you baffled for a couple of seconds. he decided to have mercy on you and rolled his eyes with a smile, “go shower and change. after that, we’ll eat and watch some movies upstairs.” he sent a small smirk your way.

you laughed. there was no way it was just going to be a movie.

hope u guys like this bc i sure did! tysm for 1.3k :D