mocheyu

[mocheyu]

"Uhm actually [character] would never do that!☝️🤓"

my tongue has been in his mouth I know him better than the author does.

[mocheyu]

Katsuki Bakugo would lose his goddamn mind if you spent the whole day teasing him, sending photos that left nothing to the imagination. Not fully nude—no, you’re smarter than that. Smarter and crueler, because it’s the almosts that ruin him.

The morning starts with a text: “Thinking of you, hero.” Along with a mirror selfie—lips bitten, shirt riding just a little too high, that look in your eyes that says you know exactly what you’re doing.

At lunch, you send another—a close-up of your collarbone and neck, your lips parted as if you’re about to say something filthy, but the message only reads: “Can’t wait to feel you.”

By late afternoon, he’s pacing in the locker room like a caged animal, jaw clenched so tight it hurts. His fingers hover over his phone like he’ll call you just to growl something filthy—but he doesn’t. Not yet. He’ll make you wait, he tells himself. Let you stew.

Except patience has never been Bakugo’s strong suit.

So when he finally gets back, the second he opens the door and sees you on the couch—bare legs, smug little smile—something in him snaps.

He doesn’t even bother taking off his gear.

“You think this is a fuckin’ game?” he mutters, voice low, thunderous, gauntlets still strapped to his arms, smoke practically rising off his skin.

You blink, all fake-innocence, and he laughs—sharp, dangerous. “Nah. Don’t act all sweet now.”

And before you can answer, he’s on you—mouth hot, hands rough, grabbing your jaw as he kisses you hard enough to knock the air from your lungs.

“Y’been actin’ up all fuckin’ day,” he growls, pressing his weight into you, hips already grinding down. “Sending me those goddamn pictures while I’m workin’? You wanted this, didn’t you?”

You gasp out his name, fingers tugging at the straps of his gear, but he doesn’t let up. Doesn’t slow. He grabs your thigh, yanks it around his waist, breath ragged against your neck.

“I didn’t even fuckin’ change,” he grits out, biting the curve of your jaw. “Didn’t have time. Couldn’t fuckin’ wait. Gonna take you just like this.”

And when he finally thrusts into you—rough, hungry, like you’re the air he’s been dying to breathe—he mutters, wrecked and wild,

“Fuckin’ mine. You hear me? Mine.”

[mocheyu]

katsuki gets hard when you take care of him 🗣️

he hates being sick; he hates being out of commission because he feels useless and therefore weirded out that you want to feed him soup when he's not even actively contributing to society.

(the first time he told you that, you gave him a look he's pretty sure was pity.)

when you sweep sweaty bangs off his forehead, he bites down on the inside of his cheek to bury the groan in his throat.

he doesn't know how to love like you do, with the kind of gentle affection apparent in every spoonful of soup you bring to his lips.

"you okay there, dynamight?" you glance pointedly at his lap, a playful glint in your eyes. "what's got you so distracted?"

well, fuck. he's so out of it he didn't even notice his dick swelling.

his ears burn. he has no idea how to voice that you mothering him is turning him on to the point of near insanity.

"it's nice," he says defensively, gesturing at you vaguely, but you don't miss a beat.

"i like taking care of you, kats." your hand settles on his chest, and you lean in close, a smile on your mouth that he wants to lick off. "i like that you let me."

your thumb sweeps back and forth on his sternum, a burning caress he feels at the base of his dick. he's a second away from grabbing your hand and thrusting it down his pants like a fumbling teenager, but you pull away, the smile on your mouth going coy.

"pretty sure my patient needs to rest up before he undergoes any rigorous activity."

[mocheyu]

[mocheyu]

Just This Once

Pairing: Kakashi x Female!Reader

Warnings: smut, breeding kink, he gets lost in the sauce frfr, situationship… ish?, this man wants to RUN, disorganised attachment style (primarily avoidant), penis in vagina sex, teasing, edging (accidental), unprotected sex, creampie

Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: Kakashi discovers that he has a breeding kink. It's kind of a spiritual experience.

Inspired by @rookie98writes's fic Leave It On

—

Kakashi isn’t used to the strange sort of domesticity that comes with being in a... whatever this is. It’s not quite a relationship. A situationship, maybe. He’d say it’s something more than friends-with-benefits, but the two of you aren’t really friends, either.  

You come together every now and then. That’s all. Like two passing ships in the night. 

So why is he standing in front of your stove, cooking dinner while you sort through the pile of unopened mail on your kitchen table? Why did he offer to water your plants while you were gone? Why does he want to do anything for you? 

Kakashi knows what it’s like trying to play catch-up after some time away from home—two months, in your case. He’d knocked on your door a few minutes ago with the intention of returning your key, and he must have caught you right after you got back from the store if the two bags of groceries on your kitchen counter were any indication. 

You looked so dead on your feet that Kakashi took over from there, unprompted. But now, as he stirs the pot of flavourful soup simmering away on the stove, his mind sees fit to wander.  

What the hell is he doing?  

He’s getting too attached. That’s what he’s doing.  

It’s that time again—time to cut and run, just as he always does when things start to become complicated. Kakashi makes a habit of ending any potential connection before it can even start, because he can’t afford to lose anyone else. He can’t get hurt if he never lets anyone in. It’s easier that way. 

“I need to schedule my injection,” you mutter to yourself as you read through one particular letter. Then you sigh and toss it back down onto the table, before you lean back in your chair and rub your tired eyes. “We should probably get used to using condoms again until I can book an appointment.” 

Your birth control must be overdue, then.  

“Sure,” Kakashi answers, feigning unbothered. The two of you used condoms in the beginning, but after a particularly gruesome mission that nearly saw him home in a box, Kakashi stopped reaching for the bedside drawer, and you stopped asking him to.  

He should have known then that he was getting too attached. 

Still, it’s your body. Whatever you want. He’ll end things in the morning either way. 

As Kakashi samples a bit of the soup he’s minding on the stove, pausing for a moment to add a bit more salt, it suddenly sinks in – really sinks in – what could happen if the two of you aren’t careful.  

He could get you pregnant. 

A jolt of arousal shoots through him.

Kakashi doesn’t want children, not now, not ever, which is why it doesn’t make a lick of sense that such a thing would turn him on. He likes the idea of his seed taking root inside of you. He might even enjoy it, the imagery his mind conjures—you bent over for him, begging him to give you a baby, your pretty yukata hiked up around your waist…  

His clan crest embroidered on the back of it.  

Kakashi swears.

You startle, looking over at him in alarm. “What happened? Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” he lies. Then he proceeds to play it off like he burned himself, but he isn’t fine. No, that single thought, that single fantasy, scares the complete and utter shit out of him—but it turns him on even more, and that’s so much worse.  

He’s already too attached. 

—

Kakashi doesn’t do feelings. He has them, of course, much like any other person, but he doesn’t let them show very often, and he certainly doesn’t talk about them. He won’t say in so many words that he cares; instead, he shows you through his actions alone. 

His knees brush the underside of your thighs as he settles between your legs, bracing himself with one hand beside your head.  

What a vision you make, spread out for him like this.  

Your lamp had blown when you went to turn it on, leaving the streetlights to illuminate your features in a sickly hue of yellow-green. It isn’t romantic in the least, but he can’t help thinking that you’ve never looked more beautiful than in this moment—maybe because it’s the last time he’ll ever get to see you like this.  

The sight of you, so needy and wanting, fills his chest with something bittersweet.  

The tomoe of his sharingan spins lazily as he memorises the curves of your body, the muss of your hair, the rise and fall of your chest as you work to recover from your first orgasm of the night. His fingers are still tacky with your essence, and he smears the residual wetness over the head of his cock.

“You should wear a condom,” comes your breathy whisper, but you make no move to stop him. Your eyes almost seem to glow as you peer up at him in the dark, worrying your lower lip between your teeth. 

“Mm. Do you want me to?” 

His question hangs heavy in the air. The only things Kakashi can hear are your soft breaths and the sound of his own steady heartbeat, which quickens with every silent second that passes.  

You want to say no, he realises.  

He wants you to say no. 

“I like it better without,” you answer quietly, and the implication isn’t lost on him. Not when you look up at him with those big doe eyes, like you don’t know the risk. 

Because there is a risk, and he knows it. Kakashi hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it all night—wicked thoughts, terrible thoughts—thoughts of filling your fertile womb with his seed, thoughts of watching your belly grow round with his child, thoughts of seeing his clan sigil stamped between your shoulder blades like a mark of ownership. 

His.  

Against his better judgement, Kakashi does exactly what he shouldn’t do. He agrees.

“Just this once.”  

Just like he says every other time—except every other time, there's never been a risk.

Your coy little smile prompts him to lower down onto an arm and settle more of his weight on you. Kakashi dips his head to kiss you indulgently, savouring the taste of you, the feel of you beneath him. He kisses you like he hopes to convey just how much he missed you while you were gone, like you might be able to taste the unspoken words that linger in his mouth. 

He kisses you like he means it—and he does. That’s why he needs to go. 

As his tongue twines with yours, Kakashi fills you in a slow, beautiful glide that wrenches a whimper from your throat. He knows he should go easy on you, but he relishes in the rapid flutter of your walls as you struggle to adjust to him after so much time apart. A surge of masculine pride washes over him, tinged with a hint of guilt for stretching you open like this. He isn’t exactly small, after all, but you take him so well. 

To ease any potential discomfort, he smooths his hand up the silky skin of your thigh in a soothing caress, before he trails gentle, placating kisses along your jawline. “Is this okay?” Kakashi asks, voice low, only to be rewarded with a particularly strong contraction that makes his toes curl. 

“More than okay,” you sigh. 

As a test, he shifts his hips. When Kakashi hears your breath hitch, he knows that you can handle more.  

He starts slow, rocking into you sensually, but he already knows that he isn’t going to last. It’s been just as long for him, and you’re tighter than you’ve ever been.  

“God, Kakashi, you feel so good.”  

So do you. Kakashi sucks a bruise on your neck in response, if only to muffle the sound of his own pleasure when your perfect cunt clenches around him again.  

He needs to pace himself, or he’ll finish too soon—but then you ask him for more, and what else can he do but oblige you?

He speeds up, not overly so, just enough that both of you can hear the slick, sloppy sounds of your lovemaking. The smell of your arousal permeates the air, and he’s tempted to have another taste. 

Later. 

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs into your ear. “Did you miss me that much?” 

Maybe he’s reassurance-seeking – just a little – but your answering whine tells him what he already knows. 

He’ll miss this. He’ll miss you. That’s why he needs to go. 

Kakashi doesn't want to think about that. He just wants to enjoy what little time with you he has left.

“Stay with me,” you rasp. You’ve always been good at noticing when he’s stuck in his head, but right now, Kakashi can’t help but wonder if you’ve just read his thoughts. You see through him so easily. It’s one of the things he likes about you. 

“Sorry,” he says with genuine apology, leaning in to capture your lips again. You let out a pleased hum into his mouth and lift your thighs up a little higher—an offering, one he’s more than happy to accept, even if he doesn’t plan to reciprocate your vulnerability.

It’s selfish, he knows. 

The new angle does something to him, or maybe it’s because he's well aware that it would be even easier to fill you up this way. He reaches deeper like this, and the tilt of your hips would perfectly hold his cum in place, increasing the chances that it’ll take. 

He wants it to take. 

Kakashi exhales a long, shaky breath. He shouldn’t want that as much as he does. He shouldn’t want it at all.  

“Close?”  

Yes, but he’s not going to tell you that. Kakashi pulls back to look at you, only to find you gazing up at him like he’s hung the moon. It makes his heart ache.  

He stamps it down. “I could be,” he teases lightly—a non-answer. “Are you?” 

When you open your mouth to respond, however, he snaps his hips forward suddenly to make you trip over your words. “I—shit,” you swear, and his eyes shine with silent laughter. Your own narrow playfully as you add, “I could be too, if you keep that up.”  

“Really?” 

To pick on you a little, Kakashi withdraws from your tight heat more slowly than he has all night, agonisingly slowly, until only the head of him remains inside; and then he lingers there, purposely, until the stirrings of impatience start to take you over.  

It’s cute, the frown you give him, the pout he sees beginning to form. “Don’t be mean,” you tell him sulkily. 

His lips tug up at the corners, revealing a hint of prominent canine. “Maa, I didn’t realise you were in a rush,” Kakashi drawls. “And here I wanted to take my time with you.”  

Before you can read too much into what he’s just said, he slams home. Hard.

Your startled gasp brings on a flicker of self-satisfaction deep within. Kakashi relishes in the knowledge that only he can make you feel like this—especially when he starts to fuck you in earnest, prompting you to fling your arms around his shoulders.  

“F-Fuck, Kakashi, oh my god—” 

“That’s it,” he encourages gently. “Hold onto me.”

He likes the closeness of it, the intimacy.

You cling to him like your life depends on it, which brings about a funny feeling in his chest that he can’t quite shake—something warm and gooey and affectionate.  

Kakashi stamps that down, too, and traces the line of your neck with his tongue, kissing and sucking at your sensitive skin until you shiver. Seeing your throat so littered with love bites unearths something within him, something primal that he’s always refused to name. He likes seeing the marks he’s left on you. He wants them to mean something.

He wants them to mean that you’re his. 

He’s too attached. 

To distract himself from what he intends to do in the morning, Kakashi picks up the pace, flesh smacking against flesh as he drives his hips into yours, fast and rough, exactly how you want it.  

It won't last long. He’s too worked up. 

Kakashi knows he’ll come before you do if he continues like this, but when he tries to slow down, you dig your heels insistently into his ass. 

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop, please—” 

“I’ll have to pull out soon,” he says raggedly, even though the thought of finishing in you already has him ready to blow.

When Kakashi feels you lock your ankles behind him, he nearly does.  

“I want it inside,” you whine, your breath fanning hot over the shell of his ear.  

His thoughts screech to a halt. You want him to come inside you, knock you up— 

“Fuck,” he curses, stopping abruptly, buried all the way to the hilt. His cock throbs wildly, desperate for release, forcing him to tightly grip the the sheets above your head in order to stave it off. 

If he moves right now, he’s done for.  

When you make a quiet, frustrated sound deep in your throat and wiggle your hips, Kakashi barely manages to hang on. He can feel that tell-tale flutter inside of you, the one that indicates exactly how close you are, but he’s closer. His breaths come out in short, sharp pants as he tries to hold himself together.  

You finish first. Always. 

“Don’t be mean,” you say again, but you sound a little more petulant this time.  

Kakashi lets out an exhausted sort of laugh and presses a wet smack of a kiss against your cheek, making you giggle. “You like it when I’m mean.”  

“I like it when you’re nice,” you clap back, voice breathy. 

Kakashi hums knowingly. “All right. I can be nice.”  

Then he pulls back just enough to pepper your face with kisses, and you squeal in delight, though it soon tapers off into a moan when he starts to trail them down your throat, each one more sensual than the last. He palms one of your breasts, gently squeezing, tweaking a nipple— 

“Come on,” you whine, digging your heels into his ass a second time. 

No more teasing. You want him to be nice.

You inhale sharply when Kakashi picks back up where he left off, this time with quick, shallow thrusts that target your g-spot. He smooths his hand down your side, savouring the softness of your skin, then he slides it in between your bodies to rub your clit in just the way you like—the way he remembers you like, because he’s too fucking attached. And sure enough, when your hips buck from the added sensation, he knows that it’s working for you. 

“If you—If you edge me again, I swear to god—” 

Upon hearing the indignation in your voice, Kakashi laughs softly. “I won’t.” 

Then he remembers that he won’t have a chance to edge you again. Not after tonight. 

His jaw tenses at the reminder. 

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you gasp, holding onto him, needing him, which pulls him right back into the present. “Come with me. Please?” 

Kakashi bites back a groan and slides in deeper, readying to do what his body craves. 

No. He can’t come with you. He’d have to finish inside in order for that to happen. 

And just like that, he’s back to teetering on the edge. The filth his mind conjures nearly proves to be his undoing—a vivid image of your tight, wet cunt wringing out every drop of his cum until it takes, tying you to him, making you need him. Making you his. The threat of it simmers under his skin, but it’s starting to feel more like a guarantee. 

Get her there, then pull out. 

Kakashi repeats those words in his head like a mantra, over and over, like it’ll ensure that he lasts, and it works—at least until you start to move your hips in time with his thrusts. You meet him at the perfect angle, sucking him deep on every stroke, allowing him to slide just beyond your cervix and into that spot that sends your voice into a fever pitch. 

A choked sob escapes you as you rake your nails down his back, leaving red lines in your wake. The sting of it only sends him higher, and he sinks his teeth into the junction of your neck and shoulder to prevent himself from blowing too soon. 

“Right there, Kakashi, right fucking there—” 

Right there, so deep within you that if he came right now— 

He groans when he imagines what would happen, and it all ends with his baby in your belly and his family crest on your back. It shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does, yet he fucks into you with purpose, now—hard, deep, powerful thrusts that knock your headboard into the wall. 

Kakashi knows exactly what that purpose is. The primal part of his brain won’t let him forget it. 

“Yes, just like that, fuck me, make me fucking yours—” 

He kisses you to shut you up, because if he hears another syllable, he’s sure to fill you to the brim. It’s not a gentle kiss, not now. He holds your head in place with a firm grip on your jaw, shoves his tongue into your mouth, and still, he recites his mantra. 

Get her there, then pull out.  

Get her there, then pull out.  

Get her there, then—  

You jerk your head away to gulp in a breath of fresh air, chest heaving from exertion, and Kakashi’s eyes sweep over your face for any sign of discomfort. What he finds is the opposite, and he drinks in the pleasured scrunch of your brows, the hazy flutter of your eyelids, the kiss-swollen state of your lips. 

Watching your muscles tense and strain as you struggle to keep your eyes on his is one of the most intimate things he’s ever experienced. “Come inside me,” you beg, and he can hear the desperation there, see it written all over your pretty face. “I need it, I fucking need it, Kakashi, give me your cum—” 

“I’ll give it to you,” he chokes out. Anything for you. Anything you want. 

The way your fingers wrench into his hair belies a hunger that matches his own as you drag him down for another kiss, messy and insistent, demanding that he make good on his promise to pump you full. He can feel the ripple of your inner walls as you come undone, feel the painfully tight squeeze of your legs around his waist, holding him there, ensuring that he stays; and never in his life has he felt so overwhelmed.  

He can’t pull out. Not now. Not when you’re so willing to milk him dry. 

Kakashi kisses you with everything that he is as he shoves himself impossibly deep inside of you, acting solely on instinct to drown your cervix in hot, sticky spend. He lets out a sound of pure male satisfaction that you eagerly swallow down, your tongue massaging his in tune with every erratic jerk of his hips as he empties himself inside of you, painting your insides white.

It feels good. It feels right. 

He’s too attached. 

He doesn’t care. 

As he comes down from his high, all Kakashi can think about is how fucking risky it is, what he’s just done, which only ruins him more when the post-orgasm clarity finally hits. 

Why the hell did he do that?  

What the hell did he do?

Your thighs tremble and shake, a sign that he’s done his job well, though he feels no pride in it—just a growing sense of panic.  

He needs to go. He needs to go right now. Not tomorrow. Now. He needs to get the hell out of here and never look back, right fucking now.  

Then he hears your quiet sob, and his heart leaps into his throat. Kakashi jerks his head down to look at you, and when he sees the tears rolling down your cheeks, he actually does panic.  

“Did I—Shit,” he quickly pulls out to check on you, more attentive than he’s ever been, “Did I hurt you?” 

It wouldn’t be the first time he’s accidentally hurt a woman during sex, but he really should have taken it easier on you. He probably went too deep, hit your cervix too hard. 

“No,” you sniffle. “I’m fine. I just... I really missed you.” 

Fuck. Don’t say that. You’ll make him want to stay.  

His eyes soften as they trail over your features – the colour of your irises, the slope of your nose, the curve of your lips – and he gently smooths your tears away with the backs of his fingers. “I didn’t hurt you?” 

You shake your head and offer him a watery smile. “I also came really, really hard,” you add matter-of-factly, and he huffs out a relieved laugh. It’s hormonal, then. “They’re happy tears, Kakashi. Calm down.” 

Teasing or not, someone telling him of all people to calm down is an otherworldly experience. The phrase lands strangely, and for the first time since he came to see you tonight, his thoughts quiet down to a dull background murmur. 

They’re happy tears, you said. 

You’re happy with him. 

He’s happy with you, too. He doesn’t want to go. 

You frown, then, and lean up onto your elbows to look at him more closely. “What’s wrong?”  

Kakashi can’t be sure what you see in his expression to warrant that sort of question, but the fight finally leaves him. He sits back on his heels and drags a hand down his face, feeling defeated for a reason he can’t explain.  

“I was just...” Happy, for a moment. Happy to be with you. ���Worried,” he finishes lamely. He can’t look at you, not when he feels the heat of a blush creeping up his neck. 

You laugh and gently cup the side of his face, turning him back towards you. “Okay. Well, I’m fine,” you pat his cheek in playful reprimand, “but I am leaking all over my clean sheets, and it’s your fault, so...”  

That draws his attention. When Kakashi sees the creamy mess spilling out of you, his flaccid cock twitches with interest even after he remembers why his stomach is in knots.  

“Sorry,” he says hoarsely, transfixed by the sight. 

He wants to do it again.

He shouldn’t want to do it again. He feels fucking crazy for having done it once already, when the two of you aren’t even in a relationship, let alone in any way prepared for a child. But again? A second time? He’d have to be certifiably insane. 

“It’s fine,” you reassure him, and Kakashi wonders how the hell you can possibly be taking it so in stride. He came a lot. There’s so much of it dripping out onto the sheets that it’s starting to create a small puddle under your ass, and there’s even more inside of you—a lot more, judging by how hard he came. 

It might take. It might seriously take, and you think it’s fine? 

“You’re doing it again,” you tell him, and his eyes snap back up to yours. He’s in his head again, you mean. Then you chew your lip for a moment, hesitation evident, before you ask carefully, “You’ve been acting a little… off tonight. Is everything okay?”  

Every single one of his instincts is telling him to run. That’s where this conversation always leads, but he’s not ready for it. Not yet. Maybe not ever. 

He swallows the lump in his throat. “I’m fine.” 

When you frown at him, skeptical, Kakashi shifts uncomfortably under your gaze.  

“Okay. I won’t pry. But, um, I’m here. You know. If you ever need to talk.” You say it a little awkwardly, like you aren’t sure if he’d be offended by the suggestion, and the worried crease between your brows only grows at whatever you see in his expression. “Or... Or not.” 

You laugh nervously, then, and shift away from him, only to wrinkle your nose when more of his cum oozes out of you.  

It’s cute. You’re cute. 

“You said it’s fine. Why?” The question leaves him before he even thinks it through, but it’s too late, now.  

“What?” 

This wasn’t the first time he’s come inside of you, not by a long shot, but it’s certainly the riskiest. “I finished inside. Aren’t you upset?” 

“What do you mean? You finish inside me all the—” Then you stop, and your brows shoot straight up onto your forehead. “Wait, is this about my birth control?”  

“Well, it’s overdue, isn’t it?”  

You stare at him for a prolonged moment, and he can almost see the gears turning in your head. Then your nostrils flare. “Are you kidding me? You thought my birth control was overdue, and you still—” Scandalised, you slap him on the arm. “Kakashi!” 

Oh. Well. It must not be overdue yet, then. 

Of course you wouldn’t let him come inside if there was a chance that you might conceive. He’s a fucking idiot. 

“That’s so bad! What if you got me pregnant?” 

A lick of heat shoots up his spine upon hearing you give voice to what’s been on his mind all night. Kakashi stares at you, wide eyed, and blushes all the way to the tips of his ears.  

You study his face for a moment, before you purse your lips, looking a little troubled. Or pissed off. He can’t really tell. “I mean... Did you want to get me pregnant?” 

“No,” he rushes to say, his cheeks burning hot because yes, he did, but not for real.  “No. Not at all. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking, and...”  

And how the hell is he supposed to explain himself? Neither of you are exactly vanilla, you’ve explored a number of kinks together, but this is something else entirely. Then again, a breeding kink would make the most sense out of any, considering it stems from a biological urge to procreate. 

But would you even believe him if he said he only gets off to the fantasy of it, and not the reality? Because if a woman ever said that to him, he’d get the hell out of dodge as fast as he could. 

A sly smile tugs at your lips, then, a knowing smile, and Kakashi quickly averts his eyes to the window, embarrassed. 

“You like it, don’t you?” you hum, seductively walking your fingers along his bare shoulders. “You like the idea of knocking me up.” 

Refusing to look at you, Kakashi clears his throat, trying to ignore the arousal that comes on from your suggestive tone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“No?” The sheets rustle as you reposition yourself, and then, when your fingers delicately wrap around his cock, he inhales sharply and bites the inside of his cheek. “Then why are you so hard?”  

And he is, too. He’s already fully erect and ready for another round, and he knows that there’s no way to lie his way out of it anymore. As you start to work your hand over him in slow, sensual strokes, up and down, coaxing the answer out of him, his head drops back. “Because,” he rasps.  

The sheets shift again, and then you crawl into his lap. He welcomes you gladly, splaying his hand over your lower back to steady you, though he still can’t meet your gaze. He’s too embarrassed. 

“Because why?” you hum. Kakashi lets out a pleasured sigh as you kiss and suck your way up the side of his neck, stroking him steadily, before you purr into his ear, “Because you want to give me a baby?” 

A soft sound of approval rips out of his throat, and his cock twitches into your palm. “Don’t—Don’t say that,” he pleads. 

“Hm? Why not?” 

To hell with it. No sense in hiding it anymore. “Because I might actually do it.” 

“Yeah?” Your teeth tug playfully at his earlobe before you pull back to look at him, and Kakashi finally wills himself to meet your sultry gaze, humiliated though he is. “You know,” you muse, “I don’t like condoms for a reason. I wonder why?” 

The breath leaves his lungs with a whoosh.

Oh, he should have known. You’re just as filthy as he is. Of course you’d have a breeding kink, too, though he’s exceedingly grateful that you’d kept it to yourself until now. You’ve never been shy about sharing the things you enjoy, which means you probably figured out how he’d react. That’s the only explanation. 

He likes that you understand him as well as you do. 

He likes you.

“I think I might be able to guess,” Kakashi says knowingly, a smile playing at his lips. When he leans in to kiss you again, all he can think is: maybe it’s not a bad thing to be too attached. 

-

Snippet #1:

“You said it was overdue,” Kakashi tells you pointedly.

“No, I said I needed to make an appointment,” you correct, and he can see that you’re struggling not to laugh. “I still have, like, a week left on it. Ish. It doesn’t hurt to be careful.” 

While you cook breakfast for the two of you, Kakashi wraps his arms around your waist from behind and traces the shell of your ear with his tongue.  “What if I don’t want to be careful?”  

He feels the shiver wrack your body, but then you do laugh at him. “Down, boy. Three rounds wasn’t enough for you?” 

“Oh, I don’t know...” Kakashi pulls you back against him, allowing you to feel the answer for yourself, hard and insistent against your ass. “You tell me.” 

-

Snippet #2:

Kakashi hides his face in your pillow, feeling distinctly vulnerable without his mask. “Don’t tease me,” he groans, muffled. “I have a delicate constitution.” 

You cackle at his discomfort, like the cruel woman you are. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But I’m really, really curious.” Then you hum thoughtfully. “Do you want to know one of mine?” 

He lifts his head just enough to reveal one curious eye. 

You squirm a little, then, like you’re finally starting to realise exactly how embarrassing it is to talk about. “I, um...” A pause. “So, you know how...” Another pause, and you take a deep breath. “Okay. I like to imagine that I'm being used to—to repopulate a clan, I guess. Just, over and over. Lots of kids. But not for real.” 

He feels another jolt of arousal at your admission. 

Looks like you’re on the same page, then. 

Then Kakashi leans up onto his elbow to regard you properly, and then he lifts an eyebrow, as if to point out how closely that particular fantasy hits to home. 

That’s when you seem to realise who you’re talking to – the sole remaining member of a clan that could probably stand to be repopulated – and your eyes go wide, before you nearly trip over yourself to add, “It—It has nothing to do with your clan, specifically, Kakashi, it’s just—” 

“A fantasy,” he finishes for you, amused. 

 You worry your lip between your teeth and nod. 

“Well,” Kakashi says, considering his answer for a moment, “I might have imagined that, too. Specifically.” Then he gives you a roguish grin, intending to pay you back in kind for your teasing. “How many children do you think would be enough for my clan to be sufficiently repopulated, hm? I’m thinking eight.” 

Mortified, you bury your face in your hands. “Oh my god! Eight?” 

Payback’s a bitch. “Well, I was originally going to say ten, but—” 

When you squeal in embarrassment and yank the blankets over your head, Kakashi barely manages to stifle a laugh.  

—

A/N: This is the first thing I've posted in a hot minute, so your feedback would mean a lot - please let me know what you think :)

[mocheyu]

୨୧﹕fem!reader, just the tip w kakashi

your step is quiet in the hallway, the way it always is when you come to say goodnight. but tonight, the light from kakashi’s cracked door spills out a little brighter than usual, the low sound of pages turning just audible. you know that sound. the gentle shfft of paper, the slow, steady breathing when he’s focused. he’s reading one of those books again.

you knock softly. “kakashi…?”

“mmh?” his voice is lazy, indulgent. you peek your head in, already in your tiny sleep shorts and tank, skin bare and glowy from your shower. his eyes lift from the page and immediately pause on your thighs.

“can i sleep in your room tonight? it’s cold.”

he exhales, sets the book down spine-up across his lap, one brow raised. “cold, huh?” his eye flicks down your body, lingering. “you’re barely wearing anything.”

you shift from foot to foot. “that’s why i need your blanket…”

his smirk is slow, crawling. “fine. get in.”

you crawl across his bed, brushing against his legs as you slip under the covers. he’s shirtless, always is at night, and he’s warm like a furnace. but you notice—he’s already half-hard beneath the sheet. the shape of it against his thigh makes your stomach tighten.

he watches you watching. doesn’t say a word. just lets it sit between you both.

you whisper, “do those books you read really have… crazy stuff?”

kakashi’s smirk spreads, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “crazy’s subjective, brat.”

“what about…” you hesitate, bite your lip. “stuff like… just the tip?”

that makes him still.

“you don’t even know what you’re asking,” he murmurs, voice dark velvet.

you shift closer, eyes wide. “i just want to feel it…”

he chuckles low in his throat. “you think i could just put the tip in and stop?” his hand slides under the blanket, fingers curling around your hip. “you think i’ve got that kind of self-control?”

“i trust you,” you whisper.

“you shouldn’t,” he growls, dragging your thigh up over his hip, sliding your shorts down just enough. his cock throbs against your bare skin, hot and heavy and big. your breath catches.

“see what you’re asking for?” he murmurs, rubbing the head along your slit, gathering the slick there. “you’re dripping. you’re gonna suck me all the way in by accident.”

“just the tip,” you plead, half-innocent, half-desperate.

his head dips low to your ear. “you say that now…”

and then he’s pushing in—just the tip.

thick, swollen, stretching you open so slow it makes your thighs tremble.

you whimper, biting his shoulder.

kakashi hisses, grip tightening. “fuck—look at that. your cunt loves me.”

he doesn’t move. he lets you feel it. lets you twitch around the broad crown, stuffed so full already you can’t imagine more.

but he’s not pulling out.

because you’re already grinding down, greedy, your soft gasp swallowed by his kiss.

“you’re gonna take more, sweetheart,” he breathes against your lips. “you were made to take more.”

[mocheyu]

me: “sorry ): can’t come!! got so much to do at home”

me as soon as im home:

[mocheyu]

"are you normal about-" no I'm an insane pervert

[mocheyu]

Quiet Morning

Timeskip | Bakugou Katsuki x (fem) Reader

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Its one of those rare mornings where Bakugou doesn’t have a single obligation—no mission, no patrol, not even a damn phone call. The sun’s barely peeking through the half-open blinds, casting long golden stripes across the bed, and you’re still curled beneath the sheets, half-asleep.

He’s awake. And he’s already moving.

You stir faintly as his weight shifts on the mattress. There’s no rush in the way his fingers trail down your bare thighs—just slow, reverent touches. At some point during the night, your sleep shorts had slipped low on your hips. He helps them off entirely now, careful not to wake you too much. Your panties? Gone. You don’t remember him removing them, but they’re somewhere on the floor.

He settles between your legs like he belongs there. Like this is exactly where he wants to spend his entire morning.

And then… he begins.

It starts with soft kisses along your inner thigh—lazy, warm, and lingering. He inhales like your scent is grounding him. There’s no teasing today. No games. His mouth meets your folds in one slow, wet press.

His tongue moves slowly at first. Tasting. Worshiping. He groans softly into you, mouth sealing over your clit, drawing soft, gentle circles that make your legs twitch in the sheets.

Still, no words. No dirty talk. Not even from you.

Just the quiet sound of your breath catching. The subtle hitch of your inhale. The sleepy moan that slips past your lips like a secret.

One thick finger sinks into you, moving in time with the slow, steady pulse of his tongue. His other hand drags across your waist—warm and grounding—before curling over your breast. His thumb brushes lazily across your nipple as he groans again, low and deep, not from need, but from devotion.

Drool slips down his chin. He doesn’t care.

His eyes flicker open often, even as they fall shut in concentration. Always looking back up at you. Watching the way your face shifts—watching you melt.

You cum with a soft cry, thighs trembling against his ears. But he doesn’t stop. He moans into you like it’s his reward. Keeps sucking—gentle, relentless, fingers curling up inside you perfectly.

You try to push him away, “Katsuki—stop”. Whimpering now, squirming with the heat of oversensitivity. Your fingers thread into his hair, tugging weakly.

But Bakugou grabs your thighs and drags you back down onto his mouth. Pinned.

You’re overstimulated, gasping, twitching under him—and he’s eating like it’s breakfast, lunch, and dinner all in one. He never stops watching you. Watching the way you fall apart.

Eventually, finally, he pulls away. His chin slick. His lips flushed. And you? You’re a mess of shallow breath and shaking limbs. But he’s not done.

He kisses his way back up your body. Soft, reverent presses to your thigh, your stomach, your chest. Until his lips meet yours—slow, tasting you through your own kiss. He presses the thick head of his cock against your soaked entrance, dragging it through your folds, teasing—but not teasing you. Teasing himself. Because his self-control is just that strong.

He slides in slow. Inch by inch. The stretch of him making your mouth fall open, though no sound comes out. It’s deep—so deep—but he doesn’t rush. Doesn’t slam into you. He just rocks forward until his hips are flush against yours. He holds you.

Forehead to forehead, arms wrapped around your body. He starts to move. Long, slow thrusts that drag along every sensitive spot inside you. He keeps one arm beneath you, the other hand coming up to cup your cheek, your jaw, the side of your neck.

No words. Just breath. Just the way his body says everything for him.

You’re still sensitive from his mouth, your body twitching every time he hits too deep, too slow. But you can’t stop moaning—soft, helpless little exhales of pleasure—and he just groans against your throat when he hears them.

He keeps watching you. Glancing down where you’re joined. Then back to your face. Eyes half-lidded, his own pleasure tucked away in the background while yours takes center stage.

You cum again—quiet and shaky—arms wrapped tight around his shoulders. Your body trembles beneath him, muscles spasming around his cock.

He doesn’t stop— he keeps fucking you through it. Slow. Deep. Even as your hips twitch away from him, your thighs quivering, your body pleading for rest.

He fucks you like a man who could spend forever right here—inside you, against you, giving you everything and asking for nothing.

And only when you’re completely gone—boneless, dazed, blinking up at him with glassy eyes—does he finally let himself chase his own release. He groans into your skin, grabs your thigh to lift it just slightly, and thrusts once, twice more— And cums deep.

You feel the warmth bloom inside you. Feel the way his hips stutter and press close, staying buried. His forehead rests against yours again. His chest heaves.

He stays inside you, soft kisses brushing your cheek, your shoulder, the corner of your mouth. The sunlight still spills in. The room smells like sex and skin and something soft. You’re sore. Satisfied. Loved.

Bakugou finally shifts enough to look at you, hair messy, eyes half-shut. “…Mornin’,” he mutters, voice low and rough from disuse. The only word he’s said all morning.

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

[mocheyu]

i cant stop imagining katsuki x reader like this

(giggles like a whore) i'm dead, literally. this had me feel things

NSFW! steamy tension, nipple play (through shirt), pussy stimulation, dirty talk, bf!katsuki x fem!reader

Katsuki was supposed to be getting dressed. You were supposed to be getting ready to go out.

But none of that was happening, because the second he walked into the room and saw you standing there in just your soft, body-hugging shirt and those lacey little panties with the bows on the sides—you were done for.

“You’re not wearin’ a bra,” he said, matter-of-fact.

You blinked. “...No?”

He stepped forward, tilting his head, hands already lifting to cup your tits through the thin fabric like he owned them. “Didn’t ask if you forgot,” he muttered, voice low and sinful. “I asked if you were doin’ it on purpose.” (he didn't really asked).

You opened your mouth—maybe to sass him, maybe to tease—but it came out as a shaky “Ah—” because his thumbs had already found your nipples through the shirt, flicking them in slow, taunting little circles.

“Thought so,” he smirked. “You know how fuckin’ sensitive you are.”

You gasped, breath catching hard as he rolled the buds between his fingers. The shirt wasn’t doing a damn thing to protect you—not when he was this focused, this deliberate. His fingers moved in lazy flicks, alternating pressure, making your knees go weak with every pass.

“K-Katsuki…”

He leaned in close, mouth hovering over yours but not quite kissing. His hands never stopped moving.

“You walkin’ around in this tiny ass shirt, nipples all perky and beggin’ for attention like you don’t know what that does to me?” His voice dropped to a growl. “You’re lucky I haven’t pinned you down yet.”

He gave one more flick, watching your body jolt in response.

“Tch. Look at you. All that squirming and I haven’t even taken it off.”

Your hands were gripping his forearms now, trying to steady yourself as the teasing became overwhelming—his thumbs rubbing slow, steady circles that made you whimper under your breath.

“You wanna beg yet?” he murmured, dipping his head to your neck, tongue flicking out to taste the skin just under your ear. “Or should I keep going ‘til you really can’t stand?”

And judging by the way your hips were already rocking forward, thighs pressing together, you both knew the answer.

You knew you were playing a dangerous game the moment you pulled on that clingy little shirt with nothing underneath. But what you didn’t expect was how fast Katsuki clocked it—and how fast he turned it into a full-blown mission.

“Fuckin’ knew it,” he growled, hands sliding under the hem of your shirt just to yank it tight against your chest, making your nipples press even harder against the fabric.

Your breath hitched, body already twitching in anticipation.

“Perky little things,” he said, almost to himself, rolling the buds between his calloused fingers, slow and deliberate. “You think I wasn’t gonna notice? You think I was just gonna let you walk around like this?”

You whimpered as his thumbs circled, teasing back and forth with the kind of pressure that made your knees wobble. The shirt made it worse—just enough of a barrier to drag it out, keep you aching.

“Katsuki, we were gonna—”

“Yeah? Gonna what?” he cut you off, smirking as he leaned in close, breath hot against your lips. “Go out? You really think I’m lettin’ you out the door like this? Nah, baby. Not ‘til I deal with this first.”

And then—flick. Hard. Sharp. Right on your nipple.

You gasped, body jolting forward instinctively. He caught you, hand flat on your lower back to keep you steady as he flicked again, again, switching sides, switching pace—sometimes soft, sometimes brutal, and every single touch turned your brain into static.

Your thighs rubbed together. The ache between your legs was unbearable now.

He noticed.

“Aw, fuck. You’re wet, aren’t you?” His hand ghosted over your hip, fingers toying with the ribbon tied at the side of your panties. “Gettin’ all messy from me just playin’ with your tits. That pathetic?”

You nodded—didn’t even bother lying. You loved how he talked to you like this. Loved how filthy he got when he knew he had you melting in his hands.

“Lemme see.”

Two fingers dragged down the front of your panties, slow enough to make you shiver. He didn’t move the lace aside—he just pressed, right over your clit, watching your mouth fall open.

“Fuckin’ soaked,” he muttered, rubbing slow circles through the fabric. “You gonna make a mess all over these cute little bows, baby?”

You whined.

He chuckled, rubbing you harder now, middle and ring finger slipping lower to tease your entrance through the soaked fabric.

“Already twitchin’. Look at that. I’ve barely even touched you.”

His free hand came back up, palming your tits, thumbs grazing your nipples again while his other hand worked your cunt through your panties. You were caught in the middle, helpless, shaking, overwhelmed.

“Katsu—Katsuki, I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” he growled, burying his face in your neck. “You fuckin’ love this. Love when I play with you like a toy. I’m not even inside you yet and you’re fallin’ apart.”

He slipped a finger beneath the fabric, finally brushing over your bare clit.

You screamed.

“Shh,” he cooed, biting down on your collarbone with a low growl. “Be good. Be quiet, or I’ll stop.”

You didn’t stop. Couldn’t.

So he didn’t either.

Two fingers worked their way under the lace, dragging through your folds, dipping just barely inside before pulling back to tease your clit again.

Your shirt was bunched up over your tits now, twisted in his grip, exposing your stiff, red nipples. He leaned down, tongue flicking over one with just enough pressure to send you over the edge.

Your orgasm hit you like a truck.

You were moaning his name, thighs trembling, cunt clenching around nothing as he grinned against your chest, working you through every wave with his fingers still teasing your clit.

“Fuckin’ knew you were sensitive,” he muttered, mouth still on your skin. “Next time you pull this no-bra shit, you better be ready to earn the right to leave the house.”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

if anybody wants to be on my tag list, please reply (╥﹏╥)

check out my other works here!: MHA MASTERLIST

[mocheyu]

never seen a more accurate thing on tiktok

[mocheyu]

Let's talk about Katsuki, who happens to be dating a med student. Both of your guys' schedules are hectic— rising with the sun and sleeping a few hours before it rises again.

But still, you manage to make time for each other. He makes sure to drop by your place on the weekends with your favourite drink even though he knows your nose will be buried deep in your laptop or a textbook. You're not hearing a single complaint from him, though. You can study while he's still there. On his lap.

He'll silently lift you from the chair and sit on it, dropping you on his thighs. You'll kiss his temple and continue working on your laptop while he scrolls on his phone with his forehead resting on your back, or he'll simply close his eyes with his arms wrapped around your waist while his lips lazily kiss your hair or the back of your neck. He lets you study all you want, but sometimes, he feels like being mischievous.

His breath will fan your jugular while his hands slip under your shirt or move ever so slowly down to your thigh, where he'll give it a firm squeeze, pull your legs slightly apart and draw circles with his thumb on your inner thigh. He likes watching you try to pretend like you don't care what he's doing when you're really crumbling with every touch. He keeps toying with you until you finally give up and turn around to give him a rough kiss and order him to carry you to the bed.

He's not the only one who pays visits. Sometimes, after class, you drive to his agency even if he's not there. You wait for him in his office, in his chair, while doing your own thing. Usually, when he's back, he has a bruise or an ugly gash from a fight with a villain. He insists he'll get it checked from the clinic, but you know he won't, so you tend him instead.

He knows med school isn't easy and that you can't be hanging out with him all the time. He knows you like holing up in your room and distancing yourself from the rest of the world when you have exams and tests coming up, so he gives you the space you need. He also knows how much burden you put on yourself during these days, so his brain has developed an alarm system where he automatically knows you're having a bad day. He drags you out of your apartment by force if he has to so you can take in some fresh air, or he simply drops by to make you your favourite dish and clean up for you. He can tell when you just need his company, so he sits on your bed while you study, his presence comforting your nerves a little bit.

He loves watching you study, but his favourite bit is when he is a part of your study/ practice. He willingly gives you his arm to practice drawing blood, even if takes you a few tries to insert the needle properly. Oh, he loves presenting his arms to you, his veins already protruding out. He doesn't miss the glint in your eye or the way you subtly bite your lips before meeting his gaze.

He loves loves loves when you have an anatomy exam most of all. It's not really studying, but damn, it's so hot when you're straddling his lap with his shirt off, your fingers roaming on his bare skin, while you yap on and on in a dead-serious tone about every muscle and structure.

Once, you were sitting on his lap during a similar session and you grabbed his chin and tilted his head head upwards, making him look to the side. You ran your fingers on the strong muscle of his neck that popped out, your touch sending shivers down his spine.

"This, Katsuki, is your sternocleidomastoid." You said.

He turned his face to you again, his pants tightening a bit too much for his liking. He couldn't make out the complex words falling out of your pretty lips because he was patiently waiting for you to point out every muscle of his and then just kiss him. He knew you were well aware of his erection poking your crotch, but you went on despite it and fuck, it pissed him off and turned him on at the same time.

He took your hand and smoothly guided it down to his hardened, clothed dick, "And what is this called, Doc?"

You gave him a coy smile, your fingers playing with the band of his pants, "You see, there are a lot of parts to name here, so I might need to take a proper look to name them all for you."

And all he could do was try not to come undone while you looked up at him through your long lashes while telling him about his own anatomy.

[mocheyu]

"The hidden rain village"

[mocheyu]

He never changes

[mocheyu]

what do i put here chat

this is the show

[mocheyu]

[mocheyu]

🌹