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Kacchan’s armpit has been the topic of conversation this week…. (from the new art book illustration lol) Anyway they’re both freaks, keep scrolling 🙄

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3rd years -> pro heroes 🍰🥦💥

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office secrets

content warning: 18+ mdni - bkdk, post-time skip, semi-public, degradation, praise

bakugo can’t keep his hands off of his boyfriend.. deku takes advantage

All of Japan saw Pro Hero Deku as a symbol.

An emblem of unwavering hope. Golden boy of Japan. Absolutely untouchable.

But here, in the half-lit quiet of Katsuki Bakugo’s private office, that image had long since crumbled.

Izuku was bent forward over the edge of the desk, fingers clenched against the lacquered wood as his body rocked with each hard thrust. His pants were tangled around his ankles, knees trembling. Mission reports, crumpled and forgotten, lay scattered beneath his drooling mouth. The sound of skin meeting skin echoed off the walls, vulgar and unrelenting.

“Look at you,” Katsuki rasped, his voice wrecked with hunger. His hand fisted in Izuku’s damp curls, yanking his head up—forcing him to look at their reflection in the window. “This the legacy you’re leavin’ behind, Deku?”

The image was brutal.

Izuku’s cheeks were flushed a furious pink, lips swollen, eyes glassy with tears and something darker. His body shook under the force of every thrust, every motion sending his spine into a deep arch. He looked utterly undone—beautiful and shamefully desperate.

“I—Kacchan—” Izuku tried, but the words collapsed into a broken moan, helplessly watching himself get wrecked.

Bakugo’s grip slid from his hair to the slope of his throat, not tight—never enough to hurt—but grounding. Possessive. His other hand bruised its way into Izuku’s hip, dragging him back with each punishing roll of his hips.

“Prance into my office with that sweet little act—like you needed to ‘talk’—when all you wanted was to get split open by my cock, huh?” Katsuki hissed into the shell of his ear, voice like flame. “Don’t fucking lie to me.”

The desk beneath them creaked with every movement. The reports strewn across it were stained with sweat and smeared ink, the air thick with the scent of heat and tension and something almost reverent.

Izuku didn’t answer—not with words. His body did all the speaking. The way he pushed back into each motion, the way his knuckles turned white with how tightly he gripped the edge of the desk. He was raw, shaking, strung out on Katsuki’s touch like it was the only thing tethering him to earth.

Katsuki leaned over him, breath harsh and warm along Izuku’s nape. “Answer me, Izu.”

Midoriya whimpered, an involuntary sound that gave him away completely. He nodded, barely.

“That’s what I thought.”

Katsuki’s thrusts deepened, rhythm tightening into something precise and brutal. The sounds were obscene—wet, relentless, echoing loud in the all too-small room.

Izuku’s jaw dropped, a low, needy sound punching out of him. His arms buckled slightly under the weight of it all, and his forehead rested against the cool surface of the desk.

“You act like a saint out there,” Katsuki growled, burying his face into the curve of Izuku’s shoulder. “Then come to me when no one else is looking to get your guts rearranged.”

A sharp nip of teeth at his skin. A mark bloomed red and hot, and Izuku shivered.

“Can’t even get off unless I’m tearing you in two. Can you?”

Izuku trembled violently beneath him, legs shaking from the overstimulation, from the overwhelming heat pooling low in his gut. His cock, untouched, was slick with arousal, painting his thighs and the floor beneath them.

“It’s—hah—all I think about..” he admitted, voice ragged, wrecked. “Kacchan—please—”

“I know,” Katsuki muttered, his tone low and fraying. “I know, baby.”

He pressed a kiss, uncharacteristically tender, to the back of Izuku’s neck. His thrusts grew sloppier, messier—losing rhythm as pleasure built like a dam about to burst.

And when it finally broke—

Katsuki groaned into his skin, gripping Izuku’s hips like he owned them. His body trembled as he buried himself deep, muscles locking as heat spilled inside him, raw and consuming.

Izuku followed with a broken cry, his entire body tensing before it collapsed, shuddering with release. His climax hit like a wave, crashing down on him all at once. He came untouched, moaning through it, jaw slack and body limp beneath Bakugo’s weight.

They stayed like that for a moment—still, panting, caught in the gravity of what they’d done.

Katsuki didn’t pull away. He simply leaned in and kissed the nape of Izuku’s neck again, lips soft. Almost reverent.

“…Gonna need a new desk at this rate,” he said after a beat, voice rough but gentler now.

Izuku let out a breathless, wrecked laugh. “And probably a mop.”

Katsuki smiled against his skin.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, brushing back a damp curl.

Izuku turned his head slightly, green eyes hazy but shining. “Better than okay.”

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bakugo keeping his relationship a secret because ‘the public will think differently of his boyfriend’.. it gets him sickly infuriated..

he’s forced to watch as countless women throw themselves at the pro hero. taking interviews with him and wanting nothing more than to hold his hand. and when they get home, they have no choice but to spend the night cuddling by katsuki’s demands.

however.. the perks of such a tense relationship is the sex.

now that hits different.

the second they make it home, katsuki has izu pinned to the door and already hard. midoriya’s whimpers and whines make it hard to not take him then and there.

or nights where katsuki’s paperwork is stacked, and izuku sneaks in to ‘talk about work’.. it always ended the same; having izuku pinned beneath him, face down on his work desk.

its just straight ecstasy.. the way that man writhes and squirms is tasteful.

katsuki could remember the first time deku pranced in all innocent, just to end up pinned to the thick glass of his office building. izuku was in tears as he came, painting the windows as if he were an artist.

so.. did it suck when katsuki had to pretend the two didn’t share a bed? of fucking course. but did he want nothing more for his boyfriend to be comfortable while in the limelight? always yes.

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Fresh figs kinda taste like what you thought flowers tasted like as a kid

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ponies