dopeyz

[dopeyz]

hiiii i forgot i had an account here… 😞

+ wip

[dopeyz]

Guh... finally escaped the curse of being unable to draw NAGI SEISHIRO..

[dopeyz]

Off-Camera

About : Streamer!Aged-Up!Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smutty, Dom!Izuku, Teasing, Fluff

Warnings: Heavy teasing, dominance, rough tension, mild bondage (pinned down), swearing, implied NSFW

The second Izuku ended the stream, the air in the room shifted.

No more chat. No more cameras. No more distractions.

Just you and him.

And the look in his darkened, emerald eyes?

Dangerous.

You swallowed as he tilted his head, jaw clenched, those big, strong hands still gripping your thighs.

“You think you’re funny, huh?” he murmured, voice low and deep, sending a heatwave straight through your core.

You smirked, playing innocent. “What? I was just helping you relax, baby~”

His grip tightened.

“Yeah?” His fingers dug in, his muscles flexing beneath you. “Because it sure as hell didn’t feel like ‘relaxing’ when you were whispering in my ear while I was live to thousands of people.”

You bit your lip. Oh. Oh, he’s mad.

Good.

“Mm, but you sounded so cute,” you teased, trailing your fingers up his chest, feeling his breath hitch. “All flustered, all red-faced—”

Izuku snapped.

In one swift motion, he grabbed your wrists and flipped you onto the desk, pinning you beneath him.

Your breath left you.

His broad chest hovered over you, one hand pinning both of yours above your head, the other gripping your waist.

Your heart raced.

“Y-You’re fast—”

Izuku leaned in, lips ghosting over your ear. “I’m done playing, baby.”

Your stomach tightened.

His voice was husky, low, commanding. His muscular frame caged you in, the warmth of his body pressing you into the desk.

You tried to move—his grip tightened.

Your breath hitched.

Oh, he was really not letting you go.

You tested his hold, wiggling just slightly—

Izuku growled.

“Stay still.”

Your eyes widened.

Oh.

Oh, you were so fucked.

His lips brushed your jaw, slow and deliberate. “You spent all night teasing me,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. “Now it’s my turn.”

Your thighs clenched.

He felt it.

His smirk was lethal.

“You like this, don’t you?” His fingers trailed down your sides, teasingly slow. “Being held down. Being at my mercy.”

You shuddered. “Izuku—”

He cut you off with a slow, open-mouthed kiss on your neck.

Your back arched.

Oh, fuck.

“Not so cocky now, are you?” he chuckled, lips trailing down, teasing, barely touching.

Your breath quickened.

“Izuku, please—”

He hummed, satisfied. “Now that’s more like it.”

His teeth grazed your skin.

Your hands tugged against his hold—desperate to touch him, to pull him closer.

He didn’t let you.

His grip on your wrists stayed firm, his body keeping you pinned down.

“You wanted my attention,” he murmured, lips brushing lower, lower, lower. “Now you have it.”

Your lungs burned from how hard you were breathing.

His voice, his touch, his sheer dominance—

This was not the same flustered, stammering Izuku from stream.

This was something else entirely.

This was a man who was about to ruin you.

And fuck, you were ready for it.

Word count: 750..?

[dopeyz]

More Than Teammates

About: Chigiri X Kunigami post blue lock

Genre: fluff

Warnings: kissing, a little sexual (mild to barely any), gay. Bl.👩‍🦯

The stadium lights cast a golden glow over the empty field as Chigiri Hyoma and Kunigami Rensuke lingered behind after practice, both too wired from training to leave just yet.

Blue Lock was over. They had made it. But things weren’t the same.

Kunigami had changed. Harder. Sharper. More determined than ever. The Wild Card system had molded him into something different, something ruthless. Chigiri wasn’t sure where they stood anymore—not as teammates, not as rivals, and certainly not as something more, which he had never dared to put into words.

“Oi,” Kunigami called out, kicking a ball toward Chigiri, who stopped it effortlessly with his foot. “You’ve been staring at me like you’ve got something to say.”

Chigiri huffed, flicking his hair over his shoulder. “Maybe I do. You gonna stand there and glare at me all night, or do you wanna play?”

Kunigami smirked. “You’re on.”

They started slow, passing the ball back and forth, testing each other like they always did. But then, it turned into something more—a challenge, a game between just the two of them. Chigiri sprinted forward, his speed blinding, but Kunigami was stronger now, more unshakable. Every time Chigiri thought he had an opening, Kunigami blocked him.

Frustration simmered in Chigiri’s chest, mixing with something else—excitement. This was what he had missed. The real Kunigami.

“You’re holding back,” Chigiri taunted as he finally managed to slip past Kunigami and score. “Where’s that new, terrifying Wild Card ego you’ve been throwing around?”

Kunigami sighed, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. “Maybe I don’t need to be like that with you.”

That made Chigiri pause. His heart stumbled, just for a second. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Kunigami stepped closer, his gaze steady, intense. “You’re the only one who looks at me like I’m still me. Not just some monster Blue Lock created.”

Chigiri swallowed. His pulse was too fast, and for once, it wasn’t from running. “Because I know you. You’re still Kunigami.”

Kunigami exhaled a quiet laugh. “Yeah. And you’re still the same pain in my ass.”

Chigiri smirked. “Admit it—you missed me.”

Kunigami didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached out, brushing a stray strand of Chigiri’s hair behind his ear. It was so unexpected that Chigiri froze. Kunigami’s touch was warm, careful. Not something a rival or even just a teammate would do.

“…Yeah,” Kunigami finally said, voice softer than Chigiri had ever heard it. “I did.”

Chigiri opened his mouth to reply, but Kunigami was already moving.

And then, Kunigami kissed him.

It wasn’t hesitant, wasn’t something unsure or testing. It was firm, like he had made up his mind long ago, and Chigiri—despite all his speed, all his reflexes—could do nothing but melt into it.

Kunigami’s hands found his waist, pulling him in just enough to make Chigiri’s head spin. And fuck, he was strong. Chigiri barely had time to process the heat of it, the way Kunigami’s lips pressed against his like he had something to prove—like he needed Chigiri to understand.

Chigiri did understand.

So he kissed back, gripping Kunigami’s jersey like he needed to anchor himself, deepening the kiss with all the words neither of them had said until now.

When they finally pulled apart, both breathing hard, Kunigami rested his forehead against Chigiri’s. His smirk was back, but his eyes—soft and burning at the same time—gave him away.

“Took you long enough,” Chigiri murmured, a breathless laugh escaping him.

Kunigami chuckled, his fingers still curled around Chigiri’s waist. “Shut up.”

Chigiri just smirked. “Make me.”

Kunigami didn’t hesitate—he kissed him again.

This time, it was rougher, more desperate. Less about proving a point and more about feeling everything. Chigiri barely had a second to react before Kunigami was pressing him back, hands firm on his waist, like he was afraid to let go.

Chigiri let himself be pulled in, fingers gripping Kunigami’s jersey like he needed it to stay standing. The heat of it, the sheer intensity of Kunigami’s touch, sent a shiver down his spine. This wasn’t just a kiss—it was years of tension, of missed chances, of words left unsaid finally crashing down on them.

Kunigami pulled away just enough to mutter against his lips, “Still talkin’?”

Chigiri huffed, breathless, but he wasn’t about to let Kunigami win that easily. “Depends,” he teased, dragging his fingers up Kunigami’s chest. “You planning to keep me quiet all night?”

Kunigami groaned, his grip tightening. “You’re a menace.”

“And you love it.”

Kunigami didn’t deny it. Instead, he leaned down, pressing another kiss to the corner of Chigiri’s lips—so soft it sent warmth flooding through his chest. Then another, along his jaw, trailing up to his ear.

Chigiri’s breath hitched. Oh.

“Say it,” Kunigami murmured, voice rough and low.

Chigiri’s heart pounded, and for once, he didn’t feel the urge to run. Instead, he tugged Kunigami down, letting their foreheads brush as he whispered, “I missed you too.”

Kunigami exhaled sharply, then kissed him again—slower this time, but just as deep.

And just like that, Chigiri knew.

Whatever this was between them, whatever it would become—Kunigami wasn’t letting go.

And neither was he.

Word count: 1050

[dopeyz]

Red Riot’s Soft Spot

About: pro hero single dad! Eijiro Kirishima X kindergarten teacher!reader.

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

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Eijiro Kirishima had faced villains, disasters, and the weight of being a pro hero, but nothing was more nerve-wracking than his first parent-teacher conference.

“Daddy, hurry up! I wanna show you my classroom!” his five-year-old son, Haru, tugged on his hand excitedly as they entered the brightly colored kindergarten classroom.

“I’m comin’, bud,” Kirishima chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. He wasn’t worried about Haru—his kid was as energetic and friendly as he was. But meeting the new teacher? That was a different story.

And then he saw you.

You were crouched beside a group of kids, helping them put away toys, a warm smile on your face. But when you turned and locked eyes with him, he felt something in his chest tighten.

Whoa.

Haru ran up to you, beaming. “Miss Y/N! This is my dad!”

You straightened, offering Kirishima a friendly smile as you extended your hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. Kirishima. Haru talks about you all the time.”

“Ah, just Kirishima is fine,” he said, shaking your hand—soft, warm, gentle—before pulling back and rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess I should apologize if he’s been talkin’ his old man’s ear off.”

You laughed, and Kirishima swore it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. “Not at all. He’s a wonderful kid. You’ve raised him well.”

He felt heat creep up his neck. “Ah, well… I try my best.”

From that day on, Kirishima found himself looking forward to every school drop-off and pick-up just to talk to you, even if it was just for a few moments. It started with small conversations about Haru—his progress, his friendships, his favorite activities—but soon, those talks turned into something more.

“I still can’t believe you’re the Red Riot,” you admitted one afternoon as he lingered a little longer than necessary. “You’re so… down to earth.”

He grinned, rubbing the back of his head. “Gotta be when you’ve got a five-year-old keeping you humble.”

You laughed, eyes sparkling. “Fair enough.”

Days turned into weeks, and the more he got to know you, the harder he fell. You were patient, kind, and had the biggest heart—not just for Haru but for every child in your care.

One evening, as he picked up Haru, he hesitated before speaking. “Hey, uh… I was wonderin’ if maybe you’d wanna grab coffee sometime? Y’know, outside of the classroom?”

Your eyes widened slightly before a soft smile spread across your lips. “Are you asking me on a date, Kirishima?”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh… yeah. Guess I am.”

You glanced at Haru, who was busy packing up his things, then met Kirishima’s gaze again. “I’d love to.”

And just like that, Red Riot, the unbreakable hero, found himself weak for you.

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Word count: 450

If anyone has any requests please let me know I’m Lwk already running out of ideas :3

[dopeyz]

Sparks and Silence

Pairing: Student!Bakugou x Fem!Quirkless Reader

Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst, Slow Burn

About: a quirk-less girl gets into ua and intrigues THE katuski Bakugous interest

Warnings: none? Maybe angst, no smut

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Your first day at U.A. felt like stepping into a world where you didn’t belong. The prestigious hero academy was filled with the best of the best—students with powerful quirks, insane skills, and unshakable confidence. And then there was you, quirkless.

You had fought tooth and nail to get in, acing the written exams and proving in the interview that you were just as capable, even without a quirk. But that didn’t mean the stares, the whispers, and the occasional scoffs didn’t sting.

That’s how you first caught Bakugou Katsuki’s attention.

At first, he didn’t bother with you—why would he? You weren’t a threat, weren’t competition. But then, he started to notice things. How you never backed down from a challenge, how you studied like hell, how you kept up in training despite having no flashy power to rely on.

One day, after another grueling combat class, you sat on the sidelines, panting, bruised, but determined. Bakugou stomped over, arms crossed, eyes sharp.

“The hell’s your deal?” he asked bluntly.

You wiped sweat from your brow, looking up at him. “What do you mean?”

He clicked his tongue. “You fight like you’ve got something to prove.”

You shrugged. “Maybe I do.”

That should’ve been the end of it, but it wasn’t. After that, Bakugou started paying more attention. He didn’t go easy on you in sparring, didn’t sugarcoat his words, but oddly enough, he didn’t mock you for being quirkless either. Instead, he challenged you, pushed you harder, called you an idiot whenever you overexerted yourself.

Somehow, that turned into late-night study sessions, where he’d grumble about you being slow but still help explain things. It turned into stolen moments in the gym, where he’d wordlessly spot you during strength training. It turned into him shoving extra food onto your plate at lunch, muttering about how “a weakling like you needs to eat more.”

It wasn’t traditional, wasn’t soft, but it was undeniably Bakugou.

One evening, as you packed your things after training, he lingered by the door. “Oi.”

You glanced up. “Yeah?”

His eyes flickered away, lips pressing into a thin line before he huffed. “You’re not weak.”

Your breath hitched.

“Not everyone agrees,” you said quietly.

“Tch.” He turned, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Then they’re all fucking idiots.”

Warmth bloomed in your chest. Maybe you didn’t belong in a world of quirks. But here, in this moment, with Bakugou beside you?

You didn’t feel out of place at all.

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Word count: 498

[dopeyz]

how i look at my screen after y/n just got called kitten/puppy/bunny

[dopeyz]

nam gyu x any woman makes me laugh because even if you dont think he's gay, he definitely hates women

man refers to every woman he meets as "bitch" and kills the only woman he has to interact with the second he gets the chance, where do you get the idea that he'd be in love with one

[dopeyz]

Lost in pursuit

Warnings: angst

About: rin itoshi x reader angst, he needs to focus on soccer (no smut, sfw, no specific gender used)

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The gym was quiet, the last echoes of the game fading into the background as Rin Itoshi sat on the bench, his head hung low. The sweat on his brow was drying, but the frustration that filled him didn’t seem to have an end. His eyes were dark, distant, his usual sharp gaze softened by the weight of his thoughts.

You sat beside him, unsure of what to say. You’d seen him like this before—on the verge of giving up, yet always trying to push through, trying to be better. He was always so focused, so determined, but in moments like this, you could see the cracks in his armor.

“Rin…” Your voice broke the silence, quiet but full of concern. “You played well. You gave it your all.”

He didn’t respond, his fingers clenched tightly around the towel in his hands, and you knew the words you were offering couldn’t reach him right now.

“I wasn’t good enough,” he muttered, his voice low and defeated. “I could’ve done more. I should’ve done more.”

You reached out, placing your hand gently on his. It was a simple gesture, but it was enough to pull his gaze toward you. His eyes softened for a moment before the walls came back up.

“Rin, you’re already amazing. No one expects you to be perfect.”

“I do,” he answered, his voice barely a whisper. “I have to be the best. There’s no other option.”

You sighed, heart heavy as you watched him pull away, both physically and emotionally. You understood his drive. He wanted to be the best, to outshine everyone, especially Isagi and Sae. But you couldn’t help feeling like the more he focused on becoming perfect, the more he lost sight of everything else, including the people who cared about him.

“You’re not alone in this,” you said softly. “You don’t have to do it all by yourself, Rin.”

He hesitated, his gaze flickering toward you before he turned away, the familiar coldness returning.

“I can’t afford distractions.” His voice was firm, but it cracked ever so slightly. “I need to focus on what matters.”

You wanted to argue, to tell him that you mattered, too, but something in his eyes told you it wouldn’t make a difference right now. He was too caught up in his pursuit of greatness, and you couldn’t pull him out of it.

You sat beside him in silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging between you. Rin Itoshi might have been chasing his dreams, but in doing so, he was leaving behind the things—and people—that mattered most.

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Word count : 380

[dopeyz]

Headcanon: A Love as Playful as the Game

Warnings: romance, sfw, no smut

: Bachira x reader headcannon. Gender fluid (no specific gender mentioned)

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Bachira Meguru loves like he plays—fearlessly, creatively, and with his whole heart. To him, falling for you is just another game, one he’s determined to win in the most fun and unpredictable way possible.

From the moment he decides he likes you, you’re his favorite person to tease. He pokes your cheeks when you’re focused, ruffles your hair even if you scowl at him, and constantly invades your personal space just to see you flustered. “You’re cute when you’re mad,” he hums, dodging whatever you throw at him.

Bachira is also ridiculously clingy. If you’re walking side by side, expect him to throw an arm around your shoulder or casually hold your hand like it’s second nature. If you’re sitting together, he’ll lean his head on your shoulder, humming some random tune while he plays with your fingers. And if he catches you off guard with a back hug? That’s just his way of reminding you that you’re his.

Dates with Bachira are never boring. He’s the type to take you rollerblading and purposely bump into you just to hear you laugh—or drag you to a trampoline park and challenge you to see who can do the coolest flip. Even something simple, like lying on the grass and pointing out shapes in the clouds, becomes an adventure when you’re with him.

But beneath all his playful energy, there’s a softer, more vulnerable side to Bachira that only you get to see. Late at night, when the world is quiet, he’ll pull you close and confess that before you, he thought love was something distant, something he couldn’t quite grasp. But now? He can’t imagine life without you.

Bachira loves with the same reckless joy he plays soccer with—completely and without hesitation. And as long as you’re by his side, he’ll make sure every moment with him feels like magic.

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First time writing a head cannon don’t judge👩‍🦯👩‍🦯👩‍🦯