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dollyluvss · 10 hours ago

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this was such a lovely fic🥹

misogynist incel Bakugou hates women and naps reader purely to use her as a fuckpuppet, he's so mean and so gross, but then eventually he becomes more and more attached because she's just so baby >-<

Bakugou Katsuki

TW: NSFW, noncon/dubcon, misogyny, incel rage, captive darling, mentions of anal, mentions of piss-play, and other signs of rough sex, stages of deterioration, Stockholm Syndrome, mind-broken reader

fem reader

That’s how it was the first month or so…

The sex was fast, rough, and scarring. Nothing loving about it. Only harsh hands and even harsher thrusts. Mean fists bunched up in your hair, pushing you face-down with an arm bent up between your shoulder blades, taking you hard from the back – making you cry against the sheets with thighs shaking. Other times with his hand enclosed around your neck – keenly glaring down your eyes while they trembled with tears, pinching your face between course fingertips, often spitting in your mouth instead of kissing you. Doing anything to make you feel used.

Only one or two-worded commands – kneel, get up, strip, lie still, spread, open up, swallow, shut up, etc.…

Anything to humiliate you. Pressing the cruel head of a wand against your clit, strumming the pearl with strangling vibrations intense enough to make you shake when cumming on his cock, often multiple times a minute. Grinning whilst mocking you for what a dirty fucking slut it made you – slapping your bouncy tits where they perked from the overstimulation, also smacking your poor pussy until the swollen thing got extra welted from his handprint – inner thighs always decorated with swells and bruises and rings of teeth, and all your limbs chronically lined with rope burns from his sadistically tight bindings.

He'd also use a marker on you. Writing down his cruel nicknames – whore, cunt, slut, cumrag. Keeping a scoreboard on you with tally marks – the number of times he’s fucked your cunt written bellow your belly button, how many times he’s fucked your butt written on your asscheek, how many times he’d fucked your throat written on your forehead, and so on and so forth... Tally marks on your hands, your tits, your feet… until there was hardly any space left.

Other times, when he was feeling especially mean, he’d put you in front of the mirror to pick you apart. Your tits are too small, your ass is too flat, too many stretch marks. Rubbing your clit until his hand was wet with you – a grin on his face while he rubbed his clothed bulge against your rear – keeping you pinned tight to his chest with his other hand squeezed tight around your throat until you were gasping for breath.

He’d put his lips against your ear, whisper hotly, his tone cruel – talking about what a slutty body you have – never any words of adoration, just pure sadistic enjoyment while he humiliated and shamed you to the point you wanted to tear your skin from your flesh.

Saying – bitches like you are only useful for one thing- you all ought to be free-for-all sex toys to contribute to the world in some meager way. Just look at that slutty face of yours- with those lips, you were practically made for sucking his cock. And any words that come out of you are so stupid he ought to muzzle your mouth anytime he’s not using it.

When he was done having his fun, he’d throw you down on the floor – make you kneel by his feet as he looped his belt around your neck and twined it tight around his fist – using it to keep you still when lodging his cock down your throat unforgivingly deep – keeping you close by jerking the makeshift collar while bunching your hair in the other mean fist.

One time like that, he even released a stream of hot piss down your guzzle – telling you to be a good piss-slut and drink it all up. Amused when you finally managed to struggle free, coughing and gagging like you were stuck between drowning and throwing up.

He’d make you wear only short slutty skirts and tight tops without any underwear beneath, seemingly purely to make fun of you – calling you a trashy cheap whore. He’d also make you put on lipstick and mascara for much of the same reason – only to smudge the red across your cheek and laugh when seeing the black rub off around your eyes, running down your face with tears.

He'd only feed you leftovers from his plate after he was finished – if there was any left. If not, you went without. He’s got to keep you on a diet, he’d say, but if you’re really that hungry, you could suck the nut out of his balls if you ask nicely.

You stopped hesitating sooner than he thought. Started doing everything he asked just like a real pet. Too overwhelmed by just how cruel he could be, you didn’t have it in you to be any sort of cruel in return.

“Tch- aren’t you ashamed?” He asked once, leaning his head on his hand, tilted while watching you and your round eyes look up at him, kneeling on the floor by his feet with your face dipping into the cup of his hand, eating out of it like a dog.

You’d only looked at him with cinched brows and asked, “Ashamed of what?” as though it wasn’t obvious, as though what you were doing had become natural to you.

He doesn’t really know when it all stopped making sense… when he started looking at you differently.

But… sometimes he’ll feel this urge to kiss you. Though he never does. Suppressing the thought, he’ll instead spit on or slap your face instead – quashing it before allowing the feeling to take root.

But it’s getting harder and harder…

You’re just this soft little thing that warms his bed at night – snuggling all preciously into his side with dulcet moans and snores. Making his chest feel all types of flighty and all types of heavy at the same time, looking at you with furrowed brows – trying to will himself into hating you.

But you do everything so gently. Not a single mean bone in your body.

Of course, he knows half of it is due to your fear of him, but… he can't help but notice how you’ve started doing things for him that you don’t need to. From how you hand him coffee to how you message his muscles – kissing him softly, small hands stroking him gently, your voice speaking to him only in sweetly careful words.

All you ever do is comfort him and hope he’ll comfort you in return. And seeing you flinch at his harsh words, how you cower beneath him and beg his forgiveness, doesn’t ease the turmoil in his chest anymore.

You make him feel bad now with the way you pout – how you cast your eyes down when they begin to brim with tears – picking at your nails until the beds bleed. It all tugs at his heart in gross pains, leaving his head heavy.

Calling you terribly ugly names and seeing you nod your head in agreeance just doesn’t seem right. And seeing you flinch gives him chills that don’t feel good at all anymore.

Even sex doesn’t make him feel good anymore.

The way you tremble when spreading your legs – sucking your teeth in pain – your whole face grimacing as you try hard not to cry at the rip when he splits you apart and fucks you selfishly, chasing his own peak at your expense. Seeing the way you ball the sheets in tight fists, gripping it for purchase while stifling your whimpers – praying for it all to be over so you can curl in on yourself and find refuge in your sleep.

While it used to give him a sense of accomplishment to see you lie there, hiding your face in the pillow with braced shoulders and his handprint freshly branding your ass – now it just leaves him feeling some type of empty.

Your crying gives him migraines. He’ll bark at you to shut up and it’s awful how you try your best to oblige him, saying, Yes, Katsuki- I’m sorry, Katsuki – using his name like a fucking bullet.

He’ll choke you to make you stop.

One time, a little while ago, he choked you so bad you only had but a few last weak breaths left – almost dying – with his hands around your throat and his cock inside you. But he’d let go in the last second.

You hadn’t been able to speak for a couple of weeks. And anytime you tried, it made his ears grate. He tried forcing himself to believe the regret he felt was for not going through with it, but he knew that wasn’t true, so he started avoiding you.

“Oh no- Katsuki-” You rushed over when he came home, eyes wide and already about to cry seeing him decked head to toe in bloody gashes from a particularly nasty fight he’d had on patrol. “Are you okay? That looks bad- are you hurt?”

Your voice is still a little fucked, and so is the bruising around your throat – and still, you’re here – asking him if he’s okay with that awfully biting look of concern painted all over your face.

Immediately his chest feels tight and he shuts his eyes to try and hide from it. But you’re still voicing your worries, doting on him like he’s some fucking child and you his fucking mom.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He bit out, first in a growling whisper but then in a shout. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

You shrunk away. Surprised at first but then ashamed shortly after. Bowing your head with toes turned in on each other. “I’m sorry, Katsuki. I- I was just thinking-”

“That’s the fucking problem, you dunce!” He cut you off. His hands holding his head like he was afraid it would crack soon. “Bitches don’t think- I've told you this a million times, but you never fucking listen!”

“I’m sorry-” You repeated, trying to take another step back but not before his hand flew out and grabbed you by your collar, thrusting you against the nearest wall – holding you up on your tippy-toes with his face scowling down at you.

“Get it through your fucking skull! I don’t want a fucking housewife-” He spat, making you flinch at every word like it was a lash from a whip. “Stop trying to be anything but the worthless piece of meat that you are.”

You shut your eyes under his roaring, nodding your head in a panic. “You’re right, Katsuki- I’m sorry-” You winced, whole body trembling against the cold marble at your back – crying now, that awful way you do to make his chest tear, and he nearly decided to put his fist through your ribs to keep it from happening. “I promise I’ll learn this time. I won't disappoint you again.” You continued through the tears, trying to stifle them with a bite to your lip, and he wondered if maybe he should make you wear a bag over your head to keep him seeing your face.

But instead, he let go. Letting your drop along the wall into a little shaken heap.

He didn’t understand why his eyes were stinging, he just knew he needed to keep you from seeing it. So he walked away…

You became quiet after that.

And he’d never felt more awful.

When he wakes up now, you’re on the opposite side of the bed, curled in on yourself. You don’t come to him. You don’t say sweet-nothings or ask him about work. You don’t say anything at all, only when he asks.

You don’t do anything at all unless he asks.

All day, you just sit and stare into nothing like you’re a puppet waiting for your strings to be pulled. You don’t eat, and when he makes you, he can hear how it all comes up again when you’re in the bathroom. He hears you crying in there as well…

Sometimes he’ll catch his own eyes leaking – just when doing simple things – thinking about you in every waking moment, having nightmares about it those times he dares shut his eyes. The loneliness hits like cold nails being hammered into his heart and it’s so unbearable he dulls it by getting his knuckles broken in some poor B-list villain's face.

He’s having issues with eating as well. Only forcing down the bare minimum. He hasn’t slept in days. And when the agency forces him into taking a break – they justify it by saying he hasn’t been thinking straight lately.

And he supposes they’re right.

When he’s home alone with you, he can’t grasp how long the days are. Slow quiet hours that make him feel like tearing his hair out – but you’re just sitting there. So still and so quiet, if he could pretend you weren’t there, it would have been easy.

But it’s not easy.

“What are you doing?” He broke the silence.

You turn your head slowly – supposedly having just then noticed he was standing there. Blinking softly up at him – taking your time before answering as though you’d forgotten how to speak for a moment. “Nothing. Do you… want me to do something?”

He shakes his head lightly, then asks what he’d actually been wondering, “Why are you sitting there?”

You look confused by the question, visibly mulling it over in your head with eyes blinking as if sitting there was the only natural place for you to be.

“You’re allowed on the couch.” He said then, in hopes it would clarify the question.

Your eyes widen at that. And then you do something so wrong as smile at him. “That’s really kind of you, Katsuki. But no thank you. I’m happy here.”

He swallows thickly. “Why?”

You blink again, then give your lip a bite. “It’s the last place you touched me…”

His nose scrunches at the reveal – and he feels a little sick after.

“You don’t touch me anymore…” You continue – eyes getting glossy as you look down at your feet while picking your nails like you so often do. “I know I made you angry… I’m really sorry…” You sniffle, then look up at him – bleary-faced and gut-churning. “Is there- is there anything I can do to make you forgive me? I’d do anything… please, Katsuki-”

He can only stare. It all makes him so uncomfortable he feels stiff – nailed to the spot. But then he remembers the plate of food in his hand.

He clears his throat. “Eat.” Lowering himself while handing it out to you.

You look confused again – now teary-cheeked with bloated lips looking extra pouty. “But I haven't-” You argue, but he cuts you off.

“Just eat.”

Still, despite the encouragement, you resist. Shaking your head. “No, thank you- I don’t deserve it.”

It makes him grimace, the sigh. “God-fucking-damn it-” He’s already here, trying his fucking best, and you’re making it so fucking difficult. “I’m ordering you to eat, so fucking eat!” He barks, and in the heat of the rage, he lifts the plate and throws it down, smashing it on the floor between you.

You jump. “I’m sorry, Katsuki-” Then you bend forward, on your hands and knees in the glass, bowing down to eat like he’d said.

“No! Fuck-” He stops you, getting down on his knees as well – the broken plate and wasted food underneath him. “Don’t- don’t eat that.” He says, grabbing your wrist from picking at the scraps.

Fresh tears run down your face again as you look up at him – lips blubbery. “But-”

“Listen to me.” He stopped you – voice sincere – his breaths heavy as he hung his head forward, needing to look away from your face – glaring down into your lap instead while he composed himself.

Soft silk rimmed with pretty lace – a babydoll just long enough to cover that place between your thighs but not long enough to hide the scars from his many bite marks and the times when his slaps had split the fine skin.

The sight makes him shudder now.

He swallowed thickly again, feeling heavy – so heavy he had to drop his weight against you, resting his head in your lap with his arms held around your tiny waist. Feeling the glass crunch beneath him.

But he didn’t care. He deserved it.

“Let’s forget about it.” He mumbled.

And muffled into your stomach, you don’t hear the teary sound of it.

You just tilt your head, looking down at him burying himself against your bosom where he kneels on the floor in front of you. It’s an unfamiliar and confusing sight and makes you feel a little anxious. You want to put your hand in his hair and pet him, you want to ask him if everything’s alright – but you know you shouldn’t – it’s not allowed – it’s not your place.

“Forget what?” You asked instead – a little hesitantly in hopes he wouldn't punish you for not knowing.

“The whole thing…” He answered – his tone getting even quieter against you. “The rules, the…” He mumbled further but stopped himself with a heavy breath.

You wait expectantly when he pushes himself up again. On his knees in the chips and shards, he holds you by the hips and bears an expression you’ve never seen before.

“You’re not a bitch, a’right?”

You heard him clearly now, but still… what he was saying didn’t make any sense.

You nearly ask him to repeat it, but you bite your tongue. Shifting from looking into one of his eyes to the other before bowing your head as though you weren’t allowed to look at him for too long.

“I’m not?” You warbled unsurely. Hunching your shoulders as if the idea of it made you feel vulnerable.

He waits, trying to assess what you were thinking, what you were feeling – a little taken aback when he spots a new tear slip down your nose and drop into a dark stain on the silk below you.

“But… if I'm not a bitch…” You sniffled, looking up at him again. “Wh- what am I then? Nothing at all?”

Your eyes are full of something so vividly hopeless – so heartbreaking it breaches his chest like a stabbing.

“No-” He argued, but you’re spiraling.

“Don’t you want me anymore?” You sobbed, now with tears rushing fat down your face once again, though this time, even more fiercely – eyes lost in a swirling blur, unable to focus on anything other than how fast your heart was hammering from the free-falling panic consuming you.

“No, no- look at me-” He grabbed your face, both hands trembling when holding your cheeks, feeling the warmth soak his fingers. “I want you.”

It’s the first time in a very long time he’s looked at you up close.

Pale moons dent the plush of your cheeks in those places he’d dug his fingertips too harshly. A print of teeth also rings your chin along other scars he can’t explain in any way other than that he’s fucking evil. Because otherwise, your face is flawless. So pretty his heart churns in his chest when he loses himself looking at it.

“Do you promise?” You ask him – words but a prayer, so desperate it rattles him.

“Yes-” He answers breathlessly.

Relief washes through you then – because suddenly, you giggle. Beaming from eyes to lips stretched over a wide smile.

“Oh- Katsuki, thank you! Thank you-” You gush, pouncing from your sullen place against the wall to sling your arms around his neck, making him fall back on his palms – his face warped by shock and something that’s both a little terrified and pained and guilty for how terribly deteriorated you’ve become because of him. “Does that mean you’ll start touching me again?” You ask while nuzzling against his neck and it’s like another knife being twisted in his gut. “I feel so useless when you don’t…”

Even further crestfallen, he peels a sweaty palm up from the floor and places it lightly onto the small of your back – slow to begin rubbing circles there while his mind spins to formulate an answer.

“I’ll touch you…” He eventually says. A little disgusted with himself that it’s the only thing he’s able to comfort you with.

But feeling your body relax with bliss in return, he repeats it.

“I’ll touch you.”

tip-jar: Kofi

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dollyluvss · 2 days ago

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Masterlists All characters are aged up!

♡ FEM x M INSERT

♡ GN x M INSERT

♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA

♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN

♡ MISCELLANEOUS

♡ 2024 COLLECTION PART ONE ♡ 2024 COLLECTION PART TWO

♡ 2023 COLLECTION PART ONE ♡ 2023 COLLECTION PART TWO

♡ 2022 COLLECTION FULL

♡ 2021 COLLECTION FULL

♡ NIGHTMARE'S HELPDESK

♡ WELCOME ♡ NAVIGATION ♡ KO-FI ♡ RULES ♡ REQUEST ♡ SIDEBLOG ♡

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dollyluvss · 3 days ago

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♡ TW: nsfw, noncon, kinky, panty fetish...

♡ FEM reader

Weird, weird, weird pervert who’s got you pinned like in some strange wrestling move. Skirt lifted over your belly with your cunt tipped up to his face.

He’s got his tongue poking into the fabric of your panties. Spitting on the pink fabric, making it turn dark. Eyes big and steal-gazing to how it starts to cling to the outline of your cunt—making his cheeks rouge.

He doesn’t peel it to the side, put traces your slit with his fingers, rubbing you through the wet layer, soaking it with more of his tongue until it’s drenched all over and all the way through, making your own self get sticky beneath it.

Finding your hole, he pokes the lace inside it. Fucking it into you, breath shuddering while watching it disappear, getting swallowd and sucked inside.

When he pulls it out again, he puts his mouth back on you—sucking the fabric dry of his spit and your taste.

He keeps it up until you cum.

The crotch of your panties stretched out and thin, looking like a frayed rope, barely covering anything anymore.

That’s when he grips it and pulls it, elastic strings snapping until it rips apart at both your hips.

He then bags them and runs off like a thief in the night.

♡ BNHA – Deku, Shigaraki, Amajiki ♡ JJK – Mahito, Gojo, Yuuta, Choso, Higuruma ♡ CSM – Yoshida ♡ BLLK – Nagi, Bachira ♡ WB – Sakura

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

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dollyluvss · 12 days ago

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just a fan ☆ mdni

mha boys fucking a fan! reader cw: f!reader, vaginal sex, p in v, oral sex 🌊: deku, bakugo, shinso

a/n: hope u all have a nice night! this was sitting in my drafts for a while now. Enjoy!

deku:

Deku wasn't getting laid. EVER. And he blamed hero work for this misfortune. He blamed the stacks of papers, the early morning and late night patrols. He blamed the fights that leave him collapsing into the soft sheets of his bed, utterly spent.

He has to keep reminding himself of the effect he has on people. Deku has to remind himself of all the people he saves, really take those "thank you"s to heart or he will go insane.

Or rather, his sexual frustrations will make him go insane. And its not like his hero work is getting him laid, is it?

Deku has you deep in a mating press as your hands glide along the backside of his hands. You're trying to commit the scars to your memory.

It's no wonder that you're trying to remember every second of this divine pleasure, if you take the fact that you were laying beneath the person you admired most into account. You had always known that you were charming, but being charming enough to have pro hero deku practically fucking every last braincell out of you? You hadn't ever even dared to dream of this.

"D-deku~ aaaahh~"

Dekus rhythm faltered as he heard you moan his name. He had told you to call him izuku but somehow his hero name slipped past your lips accompanying every moan of yours.

And deku couldn't help but chuckle. The way you cling to him, the obscene sounds of your pussy swallowing him whole, pulling him in made him grip the headboard until his knuckles turned white.

And suddenly your phone chimed. You groaned in annoyance.

Who the fuck was texting you at this time of night?!

But when the notification lit up your screen and deku saw your lockscreen background? A new type of vigour flowed through his veins.

He pressed a sloppy kiss against your soft lips before letting your tongues battle briefly. The mind-blowing kiss accompanied by dekus cock dragging against your throbbing walls had you clutching at his muscular arms for support.

Gasps were leaving your lips until deku swallowed them as he kissed you again. And again. And again. Until something new sneaked into those kisses. Something beyond physical needs.

And when you dared to open your eyes the intensity of dekus gaze threatened to blow you away. You couldn't help but smile, a heartfelt grin spread across your face. And when deku flashed you the same smile back? Your heart did thirty consecutive backflips.

You really had to thank your fan behaviour (and especially that deku fanart u have set as your lockscreen) for this night.

And you both knew this wasn't going to be the last night.

bakugo:

Bakugo was wondering how his bed frame hadn't given in yet. And how you hadn't given in yet. The way your hips were smashing together and how your pussy squelched with every move of his? This must be the thing people referred to as truly animalistic sex.

But when a moan slipped out of your mouth carrying his hero name? He knew what this was about. And his dick got harder with every time a perfect "dynamight"-cry fell from your lips.

The cocky smile on his face was every bit justified as he pressed his cock into your pussy until you were seeing stars. Pistoning in and out of you with alarming speed, his cock throbbing inside of you. He's reduced you to a mess of whines and whimpers.

And an unusual feeling of pride welled in his chest. Pride on account of someone else...

He was fucking you silly and yet you were completely present. That's the kind of determination he loves to see from his fans.

So when he sees your tits jiggling with every thrust and your sanity slipping away little by little, he can't stop himself from tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You were so goddamn beautiful.

He already knew that he needed to see you again, the next time by daylight and in a fancy restaurant.

shinso:

He notices the pin on your bag as soon as he sees you. All cheery, wide eyes and rosy cheeks? Fuck, he has to have you.

You really hadn't expected him to recognize the pins on your bag. You were already used to them so the subtle hint at you being a fan went unnoticed by you and you expected the same from him.

What you hadn't known is that shinso not only noticed and recognized it but even more than that it quadrupled the want to have you writhing beneath him.

You were alternating between admirable boldness and shyness so cute it made him want to punch someone. You thought you were sooo slick. But when he noticed the pangs of conscience you were clearly battling, he couldn't help but loop you in and show you that he already knew you were a big fan of his.

"It's what your favorite pro hero would want"

And before you knew it his tongue was buried in your cunt. He was looking up at you through hazy lidded eyes, watching for every little reaction. Your gasps, whines and moans were stringed together to the most beautiful song he ever heard

And it was true. At first he wanted to fuck you for purely selfish reasons. He wanted to fuck you so good that you forgot your own name. He wanted to make you orgasm so hard that you'd go posting thirty different posts detailing how amazing it was to spend the night with him.

But as he was in the process of making you lose your mind and your hand clawed at his torso, something else flooded his body.

Something that didn't want you to share this experience with anyone else. Something that wanted to keep you by his side even when this night fades into the fog of a distant memory. Something that wanted you all to himself.

Fuck, he wants you.

buy me a coffee? <3

©️ seaborgium-dazies do not repost, edit or feed to AI!!!

Leave some love! Reblogs and comments are dearly appreciated <3

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dollyluvss · 2 months ago

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Hello! I love your writing and I was wondering if you can write Chigiri gently eating out shy and stressed reader who's self esteem isn't good only if your comfortable of course.

shy ♡ chigiri hyoma

.ᐟcw: smut mdni, eating out, soft, praise

⸝⸝♡⸝⸝♡

“Hyo.. i don’t know about this.. I’m really nervous” you mumbled, squeezing your bare thighs together. Chigiri sat infront of you, hands soothingly rubbing your knees.

, I told you, we can stop whenever you feel uncomfortable, alright? I just want my princess to feel good, that’s all.” His voice was so soft and gentle as he kissed your exposed skin. Your body trembled. Biting your lower lip, he hesitantly nodded and parted your legs barely. He knew you’d been stressed this past week. All“Hey, i told, we can stop whenever you feel uncomfortable, alright? I just want my princess to feel good, that’s all” his voice was so soft, gentle, as he kissed over your exposed skin. Your body trembled. Biting your lower lip, hesitantly nodding, and parting your legs, barely. He knew you’d been stressed this past week; all he wanted to do was make you feel good and relaxed. It couldn’t be that bad.

Chigiri was gentle as he kissed down your stomach, whispering quiet praises against your skin.

"You're so beautiful like this," he murmured, tugging your shorts down with featherlight fingers.

"So sweet. So soft. So mine."

Your heart was hammering against your ribs, nerves making you squirm, but he just kissed the inside of your thighs until you relaxed. Your fingers tangled in his hair, as he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your wet cunt. When he finally put his mouth on you, it was slow, careful, worshipful.

He tasted you like you were the rarest thing he'd ever been allowed to have.

Like you were something fragile, and he was going to love you until you believed you were worth it.

You lips trembled, hand tightening at his roots. This was too much. No one has ever been this close to you. You were having so many second thoughts, so many thoughts that leg your mind into a dark place but chigiri’s voice snapped you out of it.

“You know how beautiful you are? So fucking perfect. And you taste amazing..” his eyelids heavy before going back to eating. Your hand covered your mouth to restrain any moans. Tears pricked your eyes, pleasure coursing through your body. And when you started crying — soft little sobs you couldn't hold back —Chigiri only held you closer, moaning low in his throat like the taste of you made him drunk.

"It's okay, baby," he whispered, voice thick with adoration.

"You're doing so good for me, so good."

“Hyo–ma feels– so good” you cried out, tugging at his silky pink strands.

He coaxed every sound out of you with slow strokes of his tongue, with the soft squeeze of his hands around your hips.

Patient, tender, like he had all the time in the world to remind you how much you deserved to feel loved.

When you finally shattered for him — gasping, shaking, clinging to his hair, Chigiri kissed you through it, humming sweet encouragement against your skin.

"You’re perfect," he whispered, kissing his way back up to your lips. Reminding you again and again. His hand dipped where his tongue was, helping you ride out the orgasm. His free hand wiped your tears.

"You always have been."

And for the first time in a long time. you believed you were.

Taglist:@samm1e13 @demiitria @syleepy @chaoslibra @bontenxo @pinkymangacaps @riinniies @samthesimp1 @sapphireluv @s4turnx1 @nevvynev @cookiesandcreammy @rinniebinniebay @ravenbc @kamelika @luvsymai @werfiedeii @mikemsmm @silverwings920 @cyberheartrebel @arwawawa2 @yanderebluelockfan @valexqpt @bigclownshoes @rinniewinnie787

A/n: ughh yes queen

ꨄ︎Anglbunny | Do not copy, steal or translate my work and pngs. you'll be blocked.

[Masterlist]

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dollyluvss · 2 months ago

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“kenma?”

“hmm?”

he doesn’t take his eyes off the tv screen where he shoots at enemies left and right, but his ears are all yours.

“who was your first kiss?”

it’s become a habit of yours to watch his fingers move on the controller, long and thin and dexterous, wondering how he manages to move them in such a swift manner that to you seems impossible.

“didn’t have one,” he says, blunt.

“ever?”

“ever.”

“how?” you ask, both surprised and not—though now that you think about it, through all the years you’ve known him, he probably would have told you if he had.

“all i did in middle and high school was play volleyball and game. didn’t have time to kiss anyone. also didn’t care about it,” he admits.

you suppose if he wasn’t with you or kuroo, he was at home, playing video games. but there was that little obsession of his with shoyo hinata… so you guess it wasn’t a crush after all.

there’s only an ounce of hesitation behind what you say next, because yes, kenma’s your best friend and this could change the trajectory of your entire relationship with him, but also it’s kenma. kenma who you’ve shared a bed and clothes with, kenma who’s seen you at rock bottom and who’s wiped your snot and tears away when you were at your lowest, kenma who you’re attached at the hip with.

“what if i was your first kiss?”

kenma doesn’t falter at your words, not even for a second as he plays on expertly, nonchalant as always.

“uhh, why?” he asks, and you’re triumphant. if it was a ‘ew, no, what the fuck?’ then that’s how you’d know you fucked up. but it’s not.

“it kinda makes sense for me to be your first. also, i just wanna know what it’s like to kiss you,” you admit, shrugging your shoulders.

the next few moments are full of nothing but controller sounds and the music from the video game on the tv. in the faint glow that radiates from the screen, you make out a tiny dusting of pink on kenma’s pale cheeks.

eventually he gulps. then, “can we drink first?”

your mouth falls open with an insulted gasp and you have half a mind to smack him over the head.

“if you think i’m ugly you can say that, kozume,” you pout, crossing your arms.

“it’s not because i think you’re ugly, dumbass.”

“then why do you need to be drunk to kiss me?!”

kenma is silent again. he doesn’t have to look at you to know you’re staring at him utterly indignantly.

“because i’m too scared to look you in the eyes right now.”

oh.

now you get it.

kenma kozume is such a virgin. and you want him so incredibly badly. in fact you have to restrain yourself from jumping into his lap and kissing him until he can’t think straight.

instead you slide off the couch and head towards his fridge, grab two bottles of asahi and the bottle opener from the utensil drawer before padding back over to the couch, sitting an inch or two closer to kenma than you were before.

you click one bottle open for him, then one for yourself, then without a hint of hesitation you take a confident swig until you’re near chugging the drink.

“chill,” kenma says, side-eyeing you after taking a swig from his own bottle. “don’t want you pulling a himeno on me.”

you let out a noise that’s half-scoff and half-laugh, smacking at his arm. “don’t joke about that. that scene was traumatic.”

two bottles of beer later, kenma’s in-game reflexes start to waver. he’s no longer as sharp as usual, though his tipsy state still trumps the skills of an average player. meanwhile, your head floats with the buzz of alcohol—well, it hovers.

“kenmaaa,” you whine, shaking his arm, when all of a sudden his character is shot to death and the screen pauses as if to deliberately rub his defeat in his face. you stifle a giggle while he runs his hands over his face, though you’re pretty sure it’s not because he lost.

“what?” he asks, but he fails at conveying any real irritation towards you. his voice is small, frail almost.

“i wanna kiss you,” you say. your fingers still cling to the fabric of his hoodie sleeve. kenma’s entire body burns from it. he’s so fucked.

“okay, fine,” he says, turning his body to finally face you and criss-crossing his legs on the couch. “this feels awkward though, how are we-”

and you’ve waited long enough for this, and the alcohol that buzzes through your system makes you throw all your morals out the window, and you’re grabbing him by fistfuls of his hoodie and dragging him towards you until your lips smash—literally—together, and finally he shuts up.

you’re not sure what overcomes you, but you’re kissing him like you’re hungry, not quite ravaging him, but years of yearning deep inside of you bubbles to the surface and fills you with desperation.

also, you’re tipsy.

it’s not long before you come back to your senses a little and remind yourself that this is just his first kiss. go easy on him, maybe?

you move away, slowly, as though trying not to startle him, to find a pair of golden feline eyes blinking back at you. they’re swimming with something unintelligible, something akin to… need? you think you must be seeing things. you’re tipsy, after all.

the silence that hangs over the pair of you is heavy—too heavy. it hurts your shoulders. you laugh so that it goes away, covering your face as though kenma’s timidness was contagious and has now spread to you.

eventually, when you peer back up at him, he’s grinning almost… triumphantly. despite the blush that covers his entire face, he looks victorious. his face replaces any words he could say, and he turns back to his game without a word.

you, however, struggle to keep your thoughts to yourself.

“can we do that more often?” you ask, leaning your frame against his, nuzzling your face into his warmth.

“yeah, we can.”

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dollyluvss · 2 months ago

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xoxo

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dollyluvss · 3 months ago

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hitoshi shinsou x f!reader - forced orgasms/overstimulation

you really shouldn’t have pissed him off.

when you and shinsou first started fucking it was syrupy sweet, like he was afraid his reputation preceded him and wanted to fuck tenderness into your skull before you heard the rumors.

but the thing is, you like things rough and mean, even when you’re screaming, and when shinsou finally extracted that confession out of you, well, your sex life changed immediately.

which is why you’re currently tied up on the bed with a vibrator pressing relentlessly on your clit, begging for shinsou to come and turn it off.

“please, toshi. please, i’ll be good.” the damp patch underneath you must be obscene. you’ve lost track of how many times you’ve cum. “i’ll listen this time, I swear.” your legs tremble, ankles shaking in their binds. pressure once again builds in your lower stomach, but the pleasure is now edging too close to pain.

“shh shh, sweet girl.” shinsou pulls back your blindfold. his scruff is pronounced, eyes lidded with desire. he unties your legs slowly, kissing and soothing the skin. “you’ve done so well for me.”

the praise sinks into your skin like sunlight.

“can you give me one more, angel? he kneels between your legs, one palm keeping your thighs spread.

“tell the truth,” he says, activating his quirk the way you always tell him to, because you love giving this man unfettered access to the truth of your desire for him. you almost trip over yourself getting the words out, the please please please touch me falling from your lips so unabashedly you might be ashamed if it were anyone other than hitoshi.

you’re so overstimulated that the moment his tongue starts lapping at the mess between your thighs you’re already cresting toward your peak, back arching, fingers gripping the bedsheets. from far away, you hear him growling out his own release into the mattress.

when you finally come back down to earth, it’s to hitoshi gently massaging your calves and ordering you boba.

(you really should piss him off more often.)

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dollyluvss · 3 months ago

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"wakatoshi!"

your whimper of his first name against his ear nearly has ushijima swearing. you cling to him, both hands scrabbling for any kind of purchase on his broad back.

"please, ah! not there!"

his tip kisses your favourite spot and the world spins. his hips slam into yours as he fucks into you hard and fast. your body presses itself flush against his own, sweaty skin sticking together.

"s-sorry. you feel-," ushijima bites on his lower lip, barely cutting off a strained groan. "so good. so, so good."

each thrust into your welcoming pussy doesn't grow sloppier, even though it sounds that way, especially when you're a dripping mess and ushijima's balls are heavy and full. lewd squelches echo alongside the slap of skin on skin.

he has one hand cradling the back of your head. it allows him to hold you close to him, face nosing the exposed column of your throat.

"sorry. sorry, sorry, sorry," ushijima babbles. "i- i can't stop, just wanna cum in you, please?"

you don't know if the noise you make is intelligible or not. it doesn't matter, because ushijima cums so hard that his senses tune everything out but the release of his seed into your womb.

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dollyluvss · 4 months ago

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aizawa didn't warn shinsou at all

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dollyluvss · 4 months ago

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authors note: ohhh yeaaa a drunken makeout sesh w shinsou?? while the neighborhood plays.. should i continue this drabble further?

You and Shinsou had staggered up the stairs to some random, crappy bedroom, the purple and blue hue of the LED lights casting over him, making him look even more enticing than he usually did—messy, tousled hair, smudged eyeliner, and that cocky toothy grin that sent you to your knees with his hand fisted in your hair. Your hands tugged at his loose flannel, one buried in his purple curls while he guided you back—one large hand pressing against the small of your back, while the other cradled your face, angling you just right. Crashing his lips against yours in a kiss that was all mess, and searing heat with a taste of urgency, the remnants of cheap alcohol lingering on his tongue.

There was nothing gentle nor kind about his actions, they weren't slow or sweet—nor, was their any tenderness in the way he held you, in the way he devoured your mouth like a man drowning trying to grasp any amount of air out of his lungs, even the way his grip tightened against your back sure to be embedded into your skin by sunrise, as he navigated you up the creaky stairs of some shitty college house party The farther up you went, the needier you both became. The pounding bass from downstairs softened, the muffled lyrics of Sweater Weather fading into the walls, drowned out by the way your breath hitched every time his teeth grazed your bottom lip. its muffled barely coherent lyrics mixing with the tiny gasps of air you and Shinsou stole between fevered kisses, the shuffle of his Docs against the wooden stairs filling the gaps in sound.

When another drunk couple stumbled past—her heels in hand, mini dress riding up to expose a shitty thigh tattoo she probably got to rebel against her parents—giggling against a guy clumsily gripping her waist—Shinsou yanked you flush against his chest, pressing his back to the wall, to avoid any drunken collision.

His scent hit you like a drug—cigarettes, faded cologne, along with something that was distinctly him, but there wasn’t nearly enough time to fully take it in before he was on you again, lips crashing against yours, rough and impatient. The cold metal of his chain brushing against your exposed cleavage, sending a delicious chill up your spine. And when he got tired of just your lips, his mouth trailed lower, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down to your collarbone. His breath was hot, each exhale a tease against your skin as he sucked at the delicate flesh, leaving a pale bruise and a sleek trail of saliva.

But when your reaction wasn’t enough—when you weren’t trembling the way he wanted—he bit down, a sharp nip that had your thighs clenching on instinct. A breathy, involuntary whimper slipped past your lips. He heard it. Felt it. The bastard smirked against your neck, lips curving against the sensitive skin as his hand slithered between your thighs, fingers pressing right against that pulse point.

A shudder rolled through you as his breath ghosted over the shell of your ear, his voice low, rough, dripping with satisfaction.

"Atta girl," he murmured, fingers teasing against the heat between your legs. "Give me more of that."

p.s i've never written for shinsou so.. bare w me pls..

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dollyluvss · 4 months ago

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𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐭

hitoshi shinsou x female reader

summary: in which hitoshi unexpectedly finds himself getting off to a photo of his classmate.

↳ warnings: 18+, nsfw, college au, established friendship, masturbation, light exhibitionism/voyeurism (aged up characters)

a/n: hope you like this lil’ drabble! don’t worry toshi stans, i plan to write more full-length content for him in the future :)

Hitoshi was no stranger to 3am, as is natural for an insomniac. Not only did he find himself to be more productive after 9pm, but he’d also grown to enjoy the stillness that settled over the dorms and the darkness that creeped down the hallway outside his door. He often spent this time catching up on homework, or winding down from the long day of training without worry of being disturbed.

It was an uncommonly quiet night. Usually, he could hear Tokoyami, a fellow night owl, up and clattering about in the common area. Occasionally, the pipes in his walls would creak and groan as someone, likely Midoriya coming back from a late night run, showered, but not tonight. Hitoshi couldn’t even hear Y/N, his classmate and friend whom he shared a wall with, shuffling about. Tonight the dorms were noiseless, leading him to believe that all of his classmates were asleep.

Unfazed by the silence, Histoshi busied himself with little tasks just like he would any other night. He spent an hour or two finishing an essay, mended a tear in his capture scarf, and packed up his book bag before deciding to take a well deserved break.

After carefully placing his favorite vinyl on his record player, he stripped off his shirt, threw on a pair of pajama pants, and settled into bed. As the soft music filled the room, he unplugged his phone, intending to browse instagram for a while.

Humming along to the song, Hitoshi scrolled through countless photos and videos of his friends and classmates. Ashido had posted a dance cover that he liked and left a comment under. A little further down Todoroki had uploaded a family photo with his father’s head cropped out. Hitoshi couldn’t help but cackle at that. And then he came upon a very different photo. It was posted a few hours ago the very girl that was asleep just on the other side of his wall, Y/N.

The picture was of her, laughing and smiling as she was being smooshed between the girls from Class 1A. But what made this photo unique was that it was taken during the girls trip to the beach last weekend, and Y/N was in a bikini.

Hitoshi’s eyes widened as he drew in an unusually shaky breath. He’d never seen his classmate in anything less than her school uniform or hero costume which, much to his dismay, was not very revealing. He glanced nervously at the wall they shared, as if she’d somehow phase through it at any moment and bear witness to his wandering eyes.

Clearing his throat, Hitoshi scrolled away from the post, but as he half heartedly watched a work out video Midoriya had uploaded, his mind kept wandering back to the photo.

Though he was alone, Hitoshi tilted the screen a bit closer to his chest, a light blush staining his cheeks. One more peak couldn’t hurt…With a quick search, he’d pulled up her account, bikini pic proudly pinned at the top.

Feeling a bit like a pervert, Hitoshi’s eyes wandered over his friend’s half-naked body. She was much… softer than he expected. The serious mask she put on during combat training had somehow led him to believe she was all sharp edges and strength, but the gentle curves of her torso said otherwise.

Not only was he transfixed by the light sheen of sweat shimmering on her smooth skin, but also by the swimsuit she dawned. It seemed to hug her in all the right places, just barely teasing what might be underneath. And though she was surrounded by plenty of scantily clothed women, he just couldn’t pull his gaze away from her.

A low groan escaped his throat as he threw his hand over his eyes, telltale signs of arousal earning a reaction from his body.

Good lord, he was pathetic. As though he’d never seen a woman before, a simple bikini photo had him pitching a tent.

Sighing, Hitoshi peaked through his fingers at his erection. He’d have to take care of that before he could move on with his night.

Maybe he could use the photo?

No… Y/N was his friend and a rather good one at that. She trusted him. They respected one another.

But the thought of getting off to someone else made his brows furrow in dissatisfaction. He couldn’t, not when she had been the source of his excitement. Hitoshi huffed in frustration. This was no good.

Maybe… maybe she wouldn’t mind? Maybe she intended for him to see this photo when she’d posted it!

It was with these feeble justifications that Hitoshi’s resolve easily crumbled. Without another thought, he hurriedly yanked down his pajama pants, red, aching cock springing free.

Just this once.

Humming with relief, he gripped his throbbing member. Setting a slow pace, Hitoshi’s gaze wandered back down to his phone, the screen illuminating his fucked out expression in the dim room.

Hitoshi stroked his cock lazily as he began committing the shape of her to memory. The subtle slope of her hips, the curve of her breasts... even the way her hair, wind-blown and salty, fell over her shoulders.

Had she always been this beautiful?

A whimper caught in Hitoshi’s throat as his thumb caught on the tip. Without the presence of mind to feel guilty, he imagined it was Y/N’s hands running over him instead. In his mind’s eye he could see her, big, round eyes staring longingly up at him, practically begging for him to take her. Hitoshi moaned at the mere thought.

Would she want to blow him? His eyes nearly rolled back in his head as he envisioned her waiting patiently on her knees for him, mouth open and ready to receive.

Groaning, he thought of all the ways in which he might pleasure her. He’d tie her up, eat her out, and leave her gasping for more. Oh, and he just knew she would sound absolutely exquisite. What he wouldn’t give to hear little whines and whimpers rolling off her tongue as she pleaded for release.

By now, grunts and moans fell freely from Hitoshi’s lips as he panted without care of who might hear. His hand began to move quicker, his movements growing sloppier as he approached his high. Throwing down his phone, Hitoshi gripped the base of his cock tightly. With a desperate whine of his friend’s name, sticky, hot ropes of cum shot out, covering his bare, heaving chest.

Hitoshi raked a shaky hand through his mussed, purple hair as he came down from his high. He hadn’t finished that hard in quite some time and boy, had he missed it. Just as he was beginning to catch his breath, a ‘ding’ from his phone caught his attention.

Not even bothering to clean himself up, he picked up his phone, curious to see who might have texted him this late at night.

A jolt of surprise zapped through him as his screen lit up with the notification.

Y/N

‘Whatcha doin over there? Sure sounds like fun ;)’

Caught off guard, Hitoshi‘s eyes flicked between his phone and his wall. She’d heard him? He’d thought she was asleep…

Maybe he could play this off somehow? Licking his lips nervously, he typed out a quick response.

Toshi

‘Wouldn’t you like to know ;)’

Copying her little winky face, he pressed send, hopeful it implied his volume had been intentional even if it hadn’t.

Y/N

‘Why don’t you come over here and show me?’

Hitoshi had never moved so fast in his life.

tags:

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dollyluvss · 4 months ago

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noncon or dubcon with Shinsou? the mind control quirk seems fitting for that

Noncon below the cut

It was weird.

You were aware of everything. The sight, sounds, smells, touches.

And every part of you wanted it to stop— but it was as if you were put in a glass box and you didn’t have a hammer.

All you could do was just lay there as Shinsou Hitoshi found pleasure in your body.

This was your fault— you shouldn’t have pushed him.

You played with fire and now you were facing the consequences.

He spent his time reminding you of all the cruel things you ever said to him, whispering the awful remarks as if they were sweet nothings in your ear, all the while snapping his hips against yours and jolting your body up and down on the training mat he took you on.

Despite all the awful things you had ever said about him and his quirk you never thought he’d actually go this far. He had always taken it like a lying dog, head down as he was abused with every one of your insults.

Turns out the dog had teeth.

But you were quickly coming to terms about what this dynamic actually was.

Your mind was his prisoner, your body the prison, and he was the warden.

His groans fluttered against your ears as he gently thrust his length into you, almost as if he was making love to you— but you knew better, he was trying to not jolt you out of his control by fucking you too rough.

His breath tickled your ear, “You have no idea how much I resented you when we— fuck, were teenagers.” He grunted, fingers threading through your own as he held your hands above your head. “The first time I saw you at the sports festival I thought you were gorgeous— and you still are.” His voice sounded restrained as he slowly and sensually thrust, he could pretend you were his like this— if only it wasn’t so difficult to forget the words you have told him for so long now.

“You have it all. You’re beautiful, and popular, the embodiment of success,” he released one hand in order to grab your face, gently turning you to look at your glassy eyes as he dug his fingers into your cheeks. “Why’d you have to ruin it with that fucking tongue,” he sighed sadly, nose grazing against your own before he dipped in.

It was an unconventional kiss as he dug his fingers into your jaw and opened your mouth. Licking into your mouth, his tongue brushed against your own and he moaned.

He broke the kiss, pulling back to stare at your glazed eyes once more, knowing you were no doubt banging on the glass walls within your mind.

”You’re better like this.”

—————

Requests open

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dollyluvss · 4 months ago

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bakugou and vampire!reader................ he's so unsure about everything, he doesn't really know what to do with himself or you or the fact that you're a vampire but when you kneel down in front of him and bat your eyelashes while asking to taste his blood, he really has no other option that to just let you do it.

his heart is about to combust, he's sweating and he's squirming in his seat – with you sat between his thighs, gently cradling his hand and kissing his knuckles, it's impossible for him to calm himself. he feels a bit lightheaded from the way you're looking at him; your pupils are dilated, your eyes low, as you force down your own desire and focus on guiding him through his first time instead.

he can't even bring himself to say anything when you ask him whether you can keep on going – he gives you a nod and you watch his adam's apple bob. you know him well enough to take this a sign to continue; he won't admit that he's nervous, no fucking way, but you do think it's sweet that he's still willing to let you do this.

when your lips finally ghost over his wrist, he bites down a sound.

he leans back on his free hand and throws his head back and you're forced to stifle a chuckle – he's awfully cute like this. a blush creeps up from under his shirt collar and without having to see him properly, you already know his face is doing any better either. his whole body burns, it feels as if he's on fire, but he refuses to back down.

“how are we doing, suki, hm?”

something soars inside him; it spreads from his lower stomach – up and down, to his chest and to his thighs, to his arms and to his legs, to his fingers and to his toes. and you're really not even doing anything just yet.

“g– good.”

his raspy voice breaks despite him trying to hold it together with all of his might. your hot breath warms his skin and he digs his fingers into the bedsheets below him – he curses his body for being so damn sensitive and he curses himself for being so weak for you.

“i need you to look at me when i do it.”

his eyes pop open but he doesn't turn to look at you. he doesn't dare.

“what for?”

“because i don't want to push you too far, baby. i need you to keep your eyes on me, so i can make sure of that.”

his chest heaves.

“please?”

his body moves completely on its own when he cranes his neck to finally meet your starved gaze again. his answer is just a grumble and his reward is you pressing one last kiss to his wrist – you stay there with your mouth still against him and your eyes fixated on his dark ones for a moment before parting your lips and giving him a glimpse of your sharp teeth.

bakugou sucks in a breath.

you sink your fangs into his skin and he clenches his jaw. his whole body tenses up and you placing your free hand on his thigh does nothing to help him relax; his pupils grow bigger at the sight of you latched onto him, at the feeling of your tongue against him. the sensation of you draining his blood is weird to say the least but there isn’t a single part of him that wants to pull away.

he’s mesmerized.

when you trail your hand up over his body until you finally reach the middle of his chest, you give him a few pats, silently telling him to breathe again. he can see the mischievous glint in your eyes, he knows you’d tease him for it if you weren’t busy drinking his blood, and the flush on his cheeks deepens.

but it doesn’t take long before his mind starts growing hazy and you know you’ll have to stop a bit earlier than you usually do, but it’s not like you really mind. you watch how his blinking slows and feel his breathing finally begins to even out – pulling away from his wrist, his eyes widen a bit more as he watches you lick your lips clean and stand from your place between his thighs, only to straddle his hips instead.

ignoring how tired his body suddenly feels, he snakes his arms around your middle anyway and lets you push him down onto his back.

you nip at his jaw and press yourself flush against him. “that wasn’t too bad, was it, baby?”

the fact you’re so fucking close now makes bakugou’s head flood with filthier images than he’d like to admit but he blames it all on the delirium caused by the blood loss. he swallows down a groan as he kneads the plush flesh of your waist and shakes his head.

he thinks your hum sounds like a purr.

and you think he looks extra cute like this.

slowly, you tilt your head to the other side of his face and lower yourself down, so you can press your lips against his pulse point. “will you let me do it here next time, suki?”

goosebumps raise on his skin despite how warm he feels and his hips buck up into yours in an instant.

“fuck…”

“say yes.”

bakugou doesn’t like to be told what to do. he doesn’t like when people order him around and he doesn’t like when people command him.

“yes.”

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