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#bnha character x reader
chaepink · 11 months
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pathetic sub!yandere boys ♡
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pathetic, disgusting yandere boys that can't help but be obsessed with you.
wc: 1k+ words | masterlist | part two
dom!fem!reader, stalking, begging, unhealthy relationship, mention of fucking
note: THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE SHORT
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Yandere boys are honestly adorable. But not just any regular yandere boys, im talking about pathetic boys that slowly turn possessive and less innocent the more obsessed they are with you.
The ones that stalk you in and out of school as they take pictures of you when you're not looking, even sometimes up your skirt when you're turned around! The ones that offer to help you with everything during school, blushing whenever you thank him and give him a compliment before rushing towards the nearest bathroom to jerk off cause they got hard from the small praise you gave them. how pathetic!
Yandere boys that would try their best to become your best friend, even going long lengths to hang out with you every second you're free.
You were going to go to the carnival with a friend? Suddenly that friend has to cancel on you because they feel sick, not knowing that your yandere added something weird to their lunch.
A friend asked if you wanted to hang with them later and you agreed? Thats weird because now they're not picking up their phone or answering their texts. Well guess who stole their phone and hid it somewhere where they wouldn't find it.
Whenever you're sad, your yandere will buy you loads of snacks and comfort you as best as they can.
Its cute really, how they try so hard to hide their obsession with you from you, even going as far as to anonymously threaten your friends that tell you how weird and creepy they are.
But everytime your friends warn you, you just smile back and them and say that [character] is just super nice to you and thats all.
Your yandere boy is so desperate for you that it's so pathetic yet so cute at the same time.
They think that you have no clue of his intentions or what he's done but little does he know, you actually do.
You know how they stalk you, how they try to separate you from your friends, how they're absolutely obsessed with you.
And so when you come over to their house to work on a class project, you're not surprised to find a big journal that has a heart on the cover with your name on it peeking out from under their bed when you come in their room. Opening it only to find lewd drawings and pictures of you alongside long paragraphs that your yandere wrote.
Reading the paragraphs and how it describes how every desire [character] has with you, even being specific as to say the exact details that would happen with each situation.
The first one you read includes how they want to get fucked by you, describing how they want to be bent over their bed as they cry and sob from the pleasure you give them.
It continues with you making him cum multiple times as you wrap a hand around his neck, leaning towards their ear to whisper degrading praise to him.
You continue reading the rest, watching as his desires turn darker and darker as they become even more specific than before, as if they actually happened before.
But before you could reach the end, your yandere opens the door with some snacks in his hand. Poor him really, cause he would have never expected for you to find out about his obsession with you.
But you're glad you did because now you get to watch as he pauses at the door, dropping the snacks in shock when he sees you with his journal in hand. Watch as his eyes flood with tears as he begins to shake from fear and shock, his face turning red as he tries to choke back a sob. Watch as he stumbles in front of you, landing on his knees as he looks into your eyes to no longer see any love in them but instead something dark that makes him shiver. Maybe it's disgust, maybe it's something entirely else.
They beg you to forget what you just saw, tears flooding down their face. It's just so embarrassing for them that you found out about their obsession with you. You can't help but coo at them as you tilt their head towards you, pressing your foot against the bulge in his pants because of course he couldn't help but get hard in this situation. That's just how pathetic they are, you think its cute though.
Hearing them let out a pitiful whimper as he lays his head on your thigh, pleading you with their eyes. Big cute eyes that try to convince you that he's done nothing wrong.
The situation is no longer about the journal when he starts to let out adorable noises when you continue to grind your foot against his bulge, making him quickly cum in the matter of seconds.
But even though he just came just a few moments ago, the way you call them pathetic with the disgust in your voice makes him hard again as he hump your foot.
They'll let you do anything to them. Dress them up, degrade him, humiliate them, they dont care! They're yours to use.
Secretly, your yandere is grateful that you found the journal under their bed. They actually wanted you to. They wanted you to get disgusted as you read the contents within their journal.
They hoped that you would punish them for how lewd and disgusting they are and they would be so grateful when you actually do.
Make the situations in his journal that he forever dreamed of come true as all he can do is moan and scream your name as you use him like a toy for your pleasure. Make him fall apart underneath you as his body gets littered with bite marks that compliment his body so nicely.
If he's too loud, shut him up with a choker or even better, your panties. The way his eyes would roll back as he cums for the nth time that night. But you're not done with him yet, oh not anytime soon.
You have to punish him for everything that he's ever done to you.
The whole situation is messed up but no matter how obsessed they are with you, you wouldn't ever trade them for the world. After all, they're your yandere.
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ty for reading to the end! ❤ - chaepink
╰┈➤ masterlist | rules
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noyasmashing · 2 months
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Virgin!Izuku, who is easily embarrassed by his inexperience, blushing and shaking when called out for his perverted stares. Despite being a famous pro hero, he admits he has never gone past a simple touch over the bra.
Virgin!Izuku, Who came in his pants with a cry when you palmed him through the fabric, whispering words of praise making him squirm. He tried to apologize, but his words quickly died as you popped him in your mouth.
Virgin!Izuku, can’t control himself as he presses his hips into your mouth, emitting soft, needy moans. Gazing at you with stars in his eyes as you give him the best pleasure he’s had in his life.
Virgin!Izuku, who quickly becomes erect once more after watching intently as you consume his baby’s without a single drop being missed.
Virgin!Izuku, breaks down in tears as soon as you playfully mock his quick climax, his hips thrusting against nothing as he whimpers and grasps at your hips.
Virgin!Izuku, that gasps in pleasure as you slowly lower yourself onto his throbbing erection, struggling to hold back from cuming inside when you whisper how amazing his cock feels inside you.
Virgin!Izuku, arches his back desperate to bury himself deeper inside you, tears welling up in his eyes as you stroke his cheek affectionately, expertly moving your body against his. With a loud cry, he releases himself as your warm walls tightens around him.
Virgin!Izuku, who twitches inside you, cum still leaking from his sensitive cock, your comforting words and heartfelt praises, make him cum again and again.
Virgin!Izuku, struggles to form sentences as you whisper dirty words into his ear, his hips squirming and moving away from you uncontrollably as you continue riding him.
Virgin!Izuku, who lets out a pitiful sob as you remind him, "I haven't cum yet, baby."
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andypantsx3 · 1 month
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contents: general bakugou x princess reader; fem + afab virgin reader. nsft; oral (f receiving) & missionary. semi-sequel to this drabble. 3.2k.
Your wedding day arrives far earlier than you are prepared for.
It’s a tense affair, for you at least. The country depends on it, and you feel the scheming eyes of the nobility hot on your skin as you pronounce your vows to Bakugou. They will not take kindly to your having chosen him over their sons and brothers, over their own desire to rise to power. There will be a price they will want you to pay, soon enough.
The chapel is resplendent with sumptuous decor, the court in their finest. But the room is fringed with Bakugou’s men in their military leathers, a reminder that this is not a happy day, but rather a dangerous political stunt. It keeps the noble houses docile while they are in the room with you, but you know they will return to their estates and their plans. 
Your fate is in Bakugou’s hands, now, in more ways than one.
The ceremony is dizzying, and impossible to wrap your head around. The preceptor pronounces Bakugou your prince-consort, ostensibly to remain so while you assume the throne after your father’s passing. You will continue to rule him as his sovereign. But your vows to Bakugou also promise him your obedience as his wife. 
It is a contradiction, an impossible trap, the very reason why the general is the only man you could stomach the thought of marrying. If a husband is to rule you after all, Bakugou will do so justly. 
The thought does not stifle your nerves, however, as you make your way back down the aisle, sit down to the reception, and take your meal. A disquieting, anticipatory feeling settles over you, fizzing under your skin. You barely pick at your dinner, and drink too much of the wine.
You can tell Bakugou notices, scarlet gaze ever-perceptive, though he does not say anything until you are shepherded to the bridal suite to consummate.
Various aides try to follow you in to prepare you, but Bakugou slams the door closed on them, propping it shut with one broad shoulder. He barks at them to scram.
“Lord General—that is, Your Highness,” one of them stutters through the door. “We are required to witness the consummation—to verify that it is complete.”
A bolt of shame goes through you at this, and you catch hold of one of the intricately-carved wooden bed pillars. Bakugou grunts, holding the door closed with one palm while spinning to the nearby dressing table and chair. He grabs the chair, wedging it forcefully up under the door handle.
“You’ll be sure of consummation when I’m done here,” he growls through the door. “Don’t need you little fucking perverts making eyes the whole damn time. Now beat it.”
A weird sound escapes you, something between a gasp and a laugh—at his promise, at his gruffness.
“Your Highness,” comes a plaintive entreaty through the door. Bakugou slams a fist against it, and you hear a squeal and a sound like someone’s fallen over their feet.
An absurd laugh seizes you, and Bakugou eyes you pettishly.
“The fuck’re you laughing about,” he says, but there’s no heat in it.
Your fingers twist on the bedpost, nervously tracing the lines. “You’re taking to your new post well.”
Bakugou’s features twist into something dangerously satisfied, a smirk painting his mouth. Your breath comes short.
“My post,” he echoes, raising an eyebrow. “As your husband.”
Your stomach swoops. The disquiet flames back to life under your skin, settling heavy in your gut like a stone. 
“I supposed it is a post like any other,” you say, fixing your gaze on the ground. “There are responsibilities and… marital duties.”
You hear the soft tread of Bakugou’s boot as he steps away from the door, the rustle of his doublet as he draws closer. His many medals and ceremonial sword belt clink softly. It is a fashion you know he does not prefer, always living in his shirtsleeves—the better to fight in, to train in.
A calloused hand takes your chin, tipping your face up to his.
“You nervous, Princess?” he asks. His tone is obnoxious, as usual, but his crimson gaze traces your face.
You barely suppress a shiver under his touch. Your stomach churns with a thousand emotions and you find you don’t know how to feel. Relieved that you’ve made it this far. Annoyed with Bakugou’s composure and general manner. Apprehensive about what is to come. And warm, suddenly, all over. You do not want to examine why.
“Nonsense,” you sniff. 
A feral smile curls the corner of Bakugou’s mouth like he sees right through you. “You’ve never been with a man.”
Your face burns but you force yourself to return Bakugou’s assessing stare. “I’ve never been to Musutafu, either, but I know it well enough. I should think I am… prepared.”
Something hot alights in Bakugou’s gaze, burning like a coal. It’s not unlike how he looked at you that night in the dark outside his chambers, when you’d first come to him with this wild proposal.
“And what do you think you know,” he says, flatter than a question.
Your nose grows hot. “Enough.”
A thumb slides along your jaw, settling against the pulse in your neck. “Answer the question, angel.”
Your face just might be on fire. You steel yourself, reciting dispassionately. “You will undress me and then… enter me. I shall lie still—they say you can breathe through the pain and it will go away after some time. You will… work yourself to completion. And then we shall be done.”
A snort comes from Bakugou. “Is that how you royal tightasses do it?”
You feel your eyes narrow. “That is how everyone does it.”
Your ladies in waiting had been very emphatic. All of them had spoken of the same mechanics. The initial discomfort, the pain, the way a husband moved upon his wife until he was satisfied.
“You don’t know shit, Princess,” Bakugou says.
You reach up to pull his hand from your face, but he tenses, arm growing solid and immovable. 
“Explains why all you nobles are such fucking tight-buttoned pricks if that’s how you’re doing it.”
Your reply is startled out of you when his hand finds your waist. You take a step back, and then another, startling again when your back finds the wall. Bakugou follows you, eyes hot.
“You are insufferable,” you inform him hotly. “I am sure of the matter.”
“You’re always sure of a lot of things, Princess,” he says. His hand is back at your waist, and suddenly all your skin feels too hot and tight, stifling like a velvet dress in summer.
“I am sure you are the most obnoxious man on earth,” you say. “Now be quiet and commence with it. Let’s have done with it.”
Bakugou’s face is suddenly closer than you’d remembered it being.
“I’ll have done with you alright,” he says. “But I’m not gonna do it like you little uppity prudes.”
You find you can’t think of what he means, all of your thoughts clouded with his proximity, the feeling of his hand moving to your skirts.
“I—but there is only the one way,” you manage. None of your ladies had mentioned anything else.
Bakugou’s mouth cuts into a smirk again, and you hate him for how pretty it is. 
“We’ll fuckin’ see about that,” he says.
And then his mouth is pressed to yours. 
It’s nothing like the stilted peck you’d been obliged to give him at the ceremony—one that still left your face burning, for some unknowable reason. This feels entirely different in its intensity. Bakugou’s mouth is hot and soft and tempting and eager, and your body thrills with it.
Every inch of your skin feels like it zings with lightning when he licks into your mouth, and he presses you harder into the wall. You feel his groan all the way down to your toes.
“B–akugou,” you pant when his mouth leaves yours, only to stifle a yip when he moves down to your throat. He sucks a mark there, laving over it with his tongue, and you feel like you're melting in his hands. “That’s—not my—ah!—mouth,” you manage.
The tiniest scrape of teeth has you yelping again, and you find yourself clutching his bicep for purchase.
“No shit,” he says, leaving another mark lower, mapping his way towards your chest. Calloused fingers come up to cup one of your breasts, thumb swiping over your nipple through your stays. You catch hold of his hair, yanking a fistful of that flaxen blonde, clenching your thighs together.
“What are you doing?” you hiss. 
Bakugou looks up at you, expression annoyed. “Consummating.”
“But you’re not undressing me,” you say. “And shouldn’t we—on the bed?
Bakugou raises a blonde eyebrow. “They tell you it needs to be on a bed, too?”
You blink, momentarily disarmed. It was quite literally called sharing the marriage bed—where else were you supposed to do it?
“Are you sure we’re talking about the same thing?” you eventually ask him.
Both of Bakugou’s eyebrows shoot for the moon, and he looks very suddenly like he wants to laugh. A grin yanks at his mouth, sharp and beautiful.
“I knew you’d be a fucking handful,” he says, his tone somehow both annoyed and delighted. “Don’t even know what the fuck you’re talking about and you’re still trying to give me orders.”
You yank at the fistful of his hair you’re still clutching and he hisses, hand shooting out to grab yours. He works your grip off of him, pinning your wrist to the wall. The air in the room suddenly feels a hundred times thicker, like trying to breathe through honey.
“Listen closely, Princess,” he tells you, leaning in. “We're going to consummate, alright. But I’m not just gonna squeeze my eyes shut and stick it in. I’m going to do what I want first, and you’re going to be good and let me.”
Your face ignites in flame. You want to disagree reflexively. “If it’s going to be painful I’d rather just have it over with, if you don’t mind,” you say.
Bakugou stares back, scarlet gaze roving over you. “It’s not gonna be if you shut up and let me do what I want.”
You blink. You hadn’t heard that there was a way around the pain—why hadn’t anyone told you?
“I—really?” you ask.
Bakugou nods. “Really.”
“Oh,” you say. “Well then… you may proceed, I suppose.”
“You suppose,” he echoes, staring you down. The look on his face makes you want to lean forward and bite it off.
“Well get on with it,” you say, arching your eyebrows.
Bakugou looks for a moment like he wants to shake you. But he ducks his head instead, lowering his mouth to yours again.
“Gonna fuck that bossiness right out of you,” he mutters, low like he’s promising himself and not you. But then he kisses you again, muffling your gasp in his mouth.
You’ve never kissed another man, and do not have a frame of reference for what he’s doing. But Bakugou is a good kisser, you think. Every flick of his tongue feels like someone has uncorked champagne and poured it beneath your skin, and every brush of his mouth against yours sends a liquid heat racing through your veins.
You moan into his mouth when calloused fingers delve beneath the collar of your gown, dipping into your stays and pinching a nipple. He rolls it carefully, and you arch against him without any say-so from your brain. 
“Been thinking about this, Princess,” he says. “Ever since I saw you in that little nightdress. Gonna show you what it really means to be with a man.”
You’re excused from answering by his mouth back on yours. Not that you think you could, with the way his fingers feel in the cups of your stays, or the press of a strong thigh between your own.
“Bakugou,” you gasp when he peels off of you, only to sink to his knees before you.
“It’s Katsuki,” he says, busying himself with the hem of your skirts. 
“B–Katsuki,” you say. “What are you doing?”
Long fingers roll up the hemline of your dress, then yank at your underthings, exposing you to him. You gasp again, moving to cover yourself, but Bakugou pins you to the wall with an arm across your stomach, catching your thigh and pulling it over his shoulder.
“Husbandly duties,” he replies, another smirk on his mouth.
And then your head thunks against the wall as that mouth moves, pressing to you.
“Katsuki!” you shout, biting off into an embarrassing moan when he laves over you. No one had told you about this part—about how a man’s mouth there would make you feel like fireworks had just been lit off in your veins. About how a man’s mouth could even go there at all.
Bakugou doesn’t reply, kissing you there as he had your lips. A delicate suck from him over the cleft of you has you arching in his hands again, and you can quite literally feel him smirking against you.
He works you thoroughly, licking and sucking for what feels like torturous hours, but must only be minutes, until you’re a writhing, panting mess, only held upright by the arm he has banded across your lower stomach. There’s a pressure rising within you, pooling in all your limbs, making you shake and shiver with it, and what feels like no way to release it.
“Katsuki—I feel strange,” you say, bucking against his mouth. “Oh—oh!”
“Just hold on, sweetheart, and let yourself feel it,” Katsuki tells you, before licking back over you. A finger presses up inside of you, foreign but strangely good in conjunction with his mouth. Then another one presses in and they curl as if seeking something, making you twist in his grip.
And then something makes you jerk—the press of Katsuki’s fingers inside you in just the right spot, while he sucks on you, feeling like he’s touching the same place inside of you from both sides.
Something inside you snaps, uncoiling, pleasure flooding down you like a mudslide. You cry out Bakugou’s name, tears in your vision, riding out your pleasure against his mouth. Bakugou licks you through it, groaning low in his throat with appreciation.
“That’s it, Princess,” he says, tone rough. “Now you’re ready for consummation.”
You hear his words as if through a haze, and it’s only once you’re moving—being picked up and carried over to the bed—that you register what he’s saying.
He frees himself from his breeches, and stretches out over you, kissing your mouth. You’re embarrassed to taste yourself on him, but the press of him to you overrides that concern. In one smooth stroke he presses in, and you are shocked to find that he slides home easily, your core slick and ready.
It feels strange, but not at all unpleasant—absolutely nothing like what they’d told you.
“You alright, Princess?” Bakugou asks.
“I—yes,” you say, voice fluttering off when he flexes his hips, moving inside of you. The slide of him inside of you is unexpectedly good, especially when he lowers a hand to your core, pressing a thumb to that bundle of nerves at the hood of you.
“Feel good?” he asks, his eyes hot on your face. You cling to him, hips lifting into him unthinkingly as his thumb pets over you again, as he presses in and out of you a few more times.
You nod, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of saying it aloud.
He grins anyway, feral and fever-bright. His pace picks up into something faster, and you’re embarrassed to hear the slap of him against you, the eager way your body welcomes him in.
The band of pressure builds up inside you again, slowly, with every sure stroke of Bakugou inside you. He’s hot and hard and heavy over you, pressing you into the mattress, and the tops of his cheeks are flush with effort—the way he looks sometimes when he’s just come in from the training pitch.
He’s beautiful—handsome and strong and hot-headed and determined. And it dawns on you that he’s yours now—not just your subject but your husband, your prince consort, and now your lover.
It makes all your skin turn molten hot again, especially when you look down and see your knees have rucked his shirt up. You can see the flex of his abs as he thrusts between your thighs, all that golden skin and dense muscle.
The slide of him inside you and the sight of him over you is suddenly too much, and you feel yourself tip right over the edge again. Bakugou catches your hand as you lift it to muffle your cry, kissing over your knuckles.
“That’s it, Princess, that’s it,” he says again, ducking his head to kiss you.
You moan into his mouth as he fucks you through it, and he groans with the clench of you.
“Feel so fuckin’ good,” he says against your lips, pace picking up faster. “Knew you would, sweetheart, yeah.”
Embarrassingly you feel almost like you could come apart again with the praise. Bakugou groans once more, and you can hear his grip tighten in the blanket next to your head. His hips buck and flex, wildly uncontrolled now, until he gives one final hard thrust.
His weight pins you down when he relaxes over you, his breath tickling over your shoulder. You find you like the weight of him on you, covering you, like a shield against the rest of the world.
Apt, for a general.
“Better than how you wanted to do it, wasn’t it, Princess?” he asks, smug.
You scoff, but you catch the flash of a white grin in the corner of your vision. There is really no question that he’d had the better of it, this time.
“Knew you’d see it my way,” he says.
Over him, you can hear the flutter of feet outside the door, some muffled discussion. Heat rises to your face when you realize the castle aids most definitely heard you cry out under Bakugou’s ministrations. There will be no doubt of your consummation now, regardless of whether you were observed.
“Nosy fuckin’ perverts,” Bakugou says, rolling off of you. You catch another flicker of his chest with the way his shirt gapes, and he looks doubly smug when he notices.
“Not done yet, angel?” he says.
“I am, thank you.” You flush, embarrassed at having been caught. But Bakugou stretches an arm out to yank you over him, pressing you down over his hips.
Your stomach flutters.
“Give me a couple more minutes, Princess,” Bakugou says, scarlet eyes flashing with heat once more. His hand raises to trail through your hair, catching in the wedding hairstyle they’d pinned you into. 
“Five more minutes,” your new husband promises you, with a grin like the devil. “And then we'll give them something to really listen to.”
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Warning: smut, oral sex, pussy eating/cunnilingus, fingering, non con/rape, yandere, somnophilia, bondage, biting, character x reader, forced orgasm, reader has pussy, neither character nor their gender is specified.
Character x reader
Waking up from your sleep you are met with a silhouette of a person between your legs and your hands tied above your head. Their arms gripping onto both your thighs while their head buried between them, busy making out with your pussy, sucking and licking on it like their life depends on it. A scared and strangled cry leaves you at the sight of what's happening, causing the person to stop and look up at you; mischief and lust dancing on their face. Keeping eye contact, they slowly bite the insides of your thigh, sucking on it gently. Panicked, you wiggle and try to move away from them, only for them to pull you back in and hold you down in place. Going back to gliding their tongue on your clit ever so slow and gently, teasing you all the while staring into your fearful eyes, like a predator with its prey. Closing their eyes they shift their focus back to your pussy. Moving their face a little lower, their tongue starts to play with your hole, the wet muscle lapping at your essence and slithering it's way into your tight little hole. They remove one hand from your thigh and bring them to play with your clit again. Lightly pinching and rubbing at it, making you breathe heavily. You didn't wanna give into the pleasure that you were receiving against your will but your body wasn't agreeing with that. Soon at every swipe of their tongue and finger over your clit and clenching hole, a moan of pleasure would escape you. No matter how much you wanted to control them, they just came out louder. The person switched the placement of their tongue with their hands and vice versa. Now their tongue was sucking and licking over your clit once again but only this time with more force. While the hand took care of your clenching hole. With how wet you already were, they easily slipped two fingers in and started fucking your hole. You bite your lips to stop the moans but it turned out to be futile as the person worked wonders with their tongue and fingers. But just listening to you moan was not enough for them; they wanted to hear you scream in pleasure and come undone in their mouth. So with that goal set in mind, they added another finger to your hole and started to fuck you hard on their fingers. Driving them knuckle deep into you and slightly curly them upwards to hit your spot. "Be good and cum for me darling." They tell you as their tongue and fingers work to give you the world shattering orgasm of your life. Your vision goes black as you arch your back during the orgasm. The person between your legs drinks up all that you give with great joy. Your essence drips down from their chin as they raise their head and finally let go of your legs. Your eyelids grow heavier by the second due to exhaustion but right before you pass out, you hear them say something; something that makes your blood run cold.
"You're forever mine now. "
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bakubunny · 18 days
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(gross) mini hc: katsuki gets hard when he sees you smelling his sweaty workout tank. if he catches you huffing his boxer briefs with your hand between your legs? he moans as blood rushes to his dick. he’s turning you over that instant, shoving your face into the sheets, and telling you to put your ass up while he takes his cock out. soon, all you can process is the snap of his hips and his scent being shoved back into your drooling face.
“y’r a nasty bitch, huh?… so fuckin’ filthy, usin’ my dirty boxers to get off like a bitch in heat….”
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mini gremlins: @dcsiremc @bookcluberror @zazter-den @i-literally-cant-with-this @r4td0lll @naughtygobbo
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kissatoru · 9 months
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okay but boys who taunt you, tell you to be rough, to go harder, to just “fuck me properly already!” because they insist that they can take it, that they’re not fragile, that they won’t break...
but then prove themselves so beautifully wrong when you do exactly as they ask and all that becomes of them is a pretty picture; all limp limbs and wet eyes, warbling noises and choked breaths.
you’d mock him — “is this rough enough for you? proper enough for you?” — because even if he could answer, even if he didn’t have his face pressed into the mattress, soaking it in drool and tears, his voice would be too ruined and his mind too blank to manage saying anything coherent. all that he can do is take it, because at least that much of what he promised is true, even if he breaks and falls apart in the process.
SATORU GOJO, TOMURA SHIGARAKI, EREN JAEGER, FLOCH FORSTER, OSAMU DAZAI, TORU OIKAWA
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spookyxcupid · 5 months
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imagine amajiki being into his hair being pulled. what started out as a way to get his attention if he was distracted turned into a full on kink as whenever you two were having sex, he begged to have his hair pulled. amajiki’s eyes were overflowing with tears, he let out breathless moans every time you bottomed out, your pace unforgiving and quick. “a-ah— you feel so hot, please don’t- hah, stop! fuck me harder!” amajiki swore he saw stars when you firmly grabbed onto his indigo locks and yanked them to make him look at you, “you’ll take what i give you. you’ll be a good boy for me, won’t you tama?” you whispered into his pointed ear, your warm breath against his ear made his hips stutter up against your rough riding. you were an addiction that amajiki never wanted to give up, his back arched when he felt his climax coming close. “uuh! i-i’m gonna- i’m gonna cum, please let me come! pleaseplease—”
“go ahead, my good boy.”
amajiki’s toes curled as he tipped his head back with a load moan, his cock twitches and pumps rope after rope of thick cum inside you. while he basks in the afterglow of his orgasm, he rambles “i love you’s” under his breath. amajiki let out a surprised gasp when he felt your hips grind against his cock again, making him harden instantly and his brain turn into mush. “i still haven’t cum yet, baby. you’ll be a good toy for me, won’t you?” you smirked at his dumb expression, oh how he loves being used by you.
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ichxraaa · 5 months
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chubby reader who is discouraged cause they’ll never experience a belly bulge meets demise when their boyfriend eavesdrops their call with a friend, worried that maybe that’s something they (the boyfriend) would be into
his cock so far up bullying your cunt as you need to open your mouth to try and breathe while your eyes roll back with the pure raw strength that is fucking you against the bed, you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve come, but he doesn’t care, all he cares about is the way your ass feels and looks as he thrusts into you and the perfect rhythm of the squelching lascivious sounds as he pistons inside you.
“you shouldn’t worry about stupid shit like that, i will fuck you so deep and good that you will feel me inside you for days”.
why is this toji, and bakugō and gojo in a way more condescending approach, and also porco, cause you know he’s savage, also eren cause he lacks delicacy and of course yaku cause he has no filter and no intention of letting you say something like that ever again.
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chaepink · 22 days
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can you write about sub yan cumming too fast and having to overstimulating himself for us ☺️
sub!yan, dom!reader, overstimulation, whining, crying, teasing, masturbation
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“I-It hic! It h-hurts, [name]!” Your yandere looks at you with glazed, glassy eyes, tears forming in the corners and falling as he pumps his dick fast.
“But darling, this is your punishment for cumming too fast. You caused this for yourself.”
He lets out a cry as he runs his own thumb over the tip, the pleasure making him shiver and for pre cum to leak out even more. There’s a small puddle of it underneath his dick and it slowly grows larger every time he cums.
You giggle at the lewd sight of his spread legs and how he’s watching your every move, wanting you to get closer and touch him any where.
“F-Fuck [name].” He lets out a desperate whimper. How many times has he cummed now? Three? Four? Your yandere doesn’t know, the pleasure and pain fogging his mind and making it hard to think. All he knows is that he’s close again and although it hurts, he doesn’t want to stop. His hand on his dick speeds up as the pleasure overwhelms him again.
“I-I’m close ah! Please l-let me cum, p-please?”
Grinning at just how pathetic he looks, you nod, wanting to see him fall apart again just from his own hand.
He sees you nod and lets out a cry as he cums, cum shooting out his spent dick and onto his already stained chest and thighs. He looks absolutely lewd like this but he looks so pretty at the same time.
Seeing his hand slow down, you only shake your head at him and he whines, knowing the words you’ll say next.
“Did I say stop darling? You’re not done till I say you’re done baby.”
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ty for reading to the end! ❤ - chaepink
╰┈➤ masterlist | rules
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irisintheafterglow · 2 months
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um blah blah blah something about knight!katsuki tearing through panicked crowds to find you slumped behind a knocked-over table, paling when he sees the growing red patch under the hand on your side.
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"shit," is all he manages to force out, and it's all he can say for the next thirty seconds while he tries to figure out how to get you out of here. "no, no, no. you're not fine, dumbass," he snaps when you insist that you're fine. he registers a figure sprinting towards him with an axe and throws a dagger from his belt without even thinking, the assailant falling onto the dirt. "this is all your fault," he mutters as he pulls you from under the table and into a nearby alley.
"i can't believe you're blaming me for my own assassination attempt," you exhale shakily, your breathing too uneven for his liking. "all i wanted was to pick some flowers."
"we could have had the flowers brought to the palace," he argues, raking a nervous hand through his hair. "but you wanted to see them straight from the farmer's market."
"there's not much we can do now that i am bleeding out," you groan, fighting down the bile in your throat when you see how red your hand has become. katsuki's hand gently but firmly grips your wrist, forcing it out of your field of vision.
"don't look at it. just look at me," he commands, scarlet eyes revealing his panic. for the first time in your history together, katsuki looked scared. "just keep looking at me, okay? i'm gonna move you to a safehouse a few blocks away."
"no, please," you plead with him, grabbing his wrist before he can loop his arms under your legs. "it hurts when i move."
"the other option is for you to die, princess, and i'm not letting that happen," he swears. "i shouldn't have ever let this happen to you in the first place."
"it's not your fault," you whisper, your thumb smearing red across his cheekbone.
"isn't it, though?" the expression of pure grief on your knight's face disappears in an instant and, before you can protest, katsuki lifts you from the ground like you weighed nothing at all. you muffle a broken cry into your hand and squeeze your eyes tight against his chest, shaking from the white-hot arc of pain cutting your side. "just stay with me, princess. you're gonna be okay."
"it hurts, kats," you sob quietly and a part of him dies. "it hurts so much."
"i know it does, baby. just stay with me and the pain will go away soon."
katsuki isn't there when you wake up in the palace infirmary, but the news of the pub bloodbath where several members of the criminal underworld were being investigated reached you eventually. your knight was supposed to be leading the investigation, but dragon keeper kirishima revealed that, after the attack in the market, he had taken matters into his own hands.
he had a single thought as he inserted his dripping sword back into its sheath. long live the princess as long as he lived.
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mysicklove · 1 year
Note
i can imagine izuku still being a virgin and getting so pussydrunk because it's his first time
𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐘
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Pairings: Virgin! Sub! Top! Pro-Hero! Izuku x Experienced! Dom! Bottom! AFAB! Reader
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: Alcohol use, heavy overstimulation, vaginal penetration, biting, hickeys, creampie, crying, begging, nicknames,, multiple rounds
A/N: Guys Im going to be honest. This is lowkey mostly plot heavy and not too much smut. Im sorry anon I should have made it short and smutty, but I just had this idea and one thing lead to another... I will make short smut stuff!!!!!
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Izuku was desperate to have sex. He may be doing fantastic career-wise, but his life in the sheets was dry. So unbelievably dry. He was so pent up, so frustrated, he needed it so badly. Every night he has to get himself off, and by god, he wanted more.
He met you a couple of weeks ago, and you have clouded his mind ever since. He doesn't even know your name. All he knows is you were wearing a red dress, and you kissed him so hard he couldn't breathe. Pressed your knee on his clothed cock, and just like nothing happened, disappeared.
He was drunk. The both of you were. He remembers the smell of alcohol on your breath, how flushed you look. He was probably no better, the fact that this happened at all means he had to be wasted. He barely has the confidence to talk to girls.
It happened at some sort of party that only celebrities or the rich attend, but with all the Google searches in the world, he couldn't find you. His search history was embarrassing.
But even so, he fantasized about you. The purr of your voice, the soft hands that ran over his muscular body, the way you said, “Such a pretty boy in front of me, you must have all the ladies in the palm of your hand, hmm?” while pressing your lips, coating with red lipstick, onto his neck.
He couldn't get you out of his head. He attended every single party, but alas he could never find you. He would end up at home, alone, touching himself.
Until he found you again, two months later. At another party.
He spills the champagne in his hands, when he sees you, eyes wide, before stumbling up and over to you. You are at a table by yourself, sipping on some sort of cocktail. You were in a dark blue tight dress today, and instead of that red lipstick that stained his neck, you were wearing clear lip gloss.
He awkwardly, and hesitantly taps your shoulder, and flushes when you turn around. The thoughts of that night come flooding back to him, and he has to look away so he doesn't get a hard-on.
“Oh! Deku, I didn't know you were here.” You say with a bright smile and he blinks at you. He just cannot stop thinking about the fact that this is the face he gets off to daily. The way you look now is so different than last time. You look so innocent, grinning so widely, it's nothing like the flushed, domineering persona you had that night.
Either way, it's still you and he gulps. “Hey! Yeah…I was invited.”
You smile into your glass cup. “I would hope so.”
He blushes. Such a stupid thing to say. Of course, he was invited and you were too, what was he even talking about? “So..What's your name?”
You hold out a hand and grin. “Y/N.”
He takes it and gently shakes it, trying to hold back his nervous shaking. “It's nice to me you, Im–”
“Deku?” You prompt with a tilt of your head.
He falters, “Uh yeah! But I was going to say, Izuku” He trails off and you laugh.
“Sorry. Got ahead of myself! It's nice to meet you Izuku.” And suddenly your facial features flip. That smirk is back. He loves it. “Your tie is all messed up, mind if I fix it?” He blushes but nods. You grin and grab onto the green tie, and he goes needle straight. “Yknow. You look awfully familiar, Izuku.” You say in a lone tone, that makes the blood flow straight to his cock.
He splutters, “You, you think so?” You drop the tie and hum. Your mouth opens, beginning another probably teasing remark when a call of your name cuts you off. A female voice, he takes specific note of.
You turn to him and smile. “Well, that's my cue. I'll see you around, pretty boy.”
He stands there staring at the space you just preoccupied with a blank face. And then it hits him. Pretty boy. That’s what you called him that night. You remember. You had to. He turns around quickly and says, “Wait!” but you are already gone. Hidden by the crowd of dancing and drinking rich idiots.
He eyes the cocktail you left, sighs, and finishes it off. He has gotta get some liquid courage in him if he wanted to be bold enough to deal with you.
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He searched the party all night, but alas he couldn't find you. He almost began to give up hope, when suddenly he saw you. Alone, once again, and on the balcony. He sets his drink down and uses the silver reflection of his plate as a mirror to quickly brush through his hair. He sighs and then as calmly as he could so nobody would say anything, walks to the balcony.
When you hear the footsteps, you turn around, and when you see who exactly it is, you grin. He laughs nervously. “Woah, funny seeing you here, Y/N.”
You raise your eyebrow and turn to lean your back on the balcony ledge. “Oh don't give me that, I saw you looking for me all night like a lost puppy.” You throw your head back in a laugh and his ever-returning blush is back.
“Y-You knew? But, why didn't you…” He trails off when you step closer to him. Now you were less than a foot away, grinning up at him, he could almost feel your breasts press against him. He gulps and looks away, hoping to fight his arousal. He could smell the traces of alcohol.
You grab his face to make him look at you, and you lean forward like you are going to kiss him, and then pause, centimeters away. “Izuku, what do you want from me?”
“Everything.” He whispers eyes half-lidded as he stares at your lips.
You smile. “Good answer.” And then press his lips to his. He groans, low and softly, but leans into the kiss. He grabs your waist and presses you against him, and you pull away when you feel his hard cock. “Where should we go?” You prompt, basically inviting him to ask you to his place.
But, much to your dismay, he doesn't get it. “Bathroom,” He says, thinking back to that one night, and then leans forward for another kiss.
You pull away, eyebrows furrowed in disgust. His eyes widen when he feels your warmth disappear. “Bathroom, really? You–You are just like all the others. I thought after the whole romantic balcony scene you would at least have the decency to ask me to your place.” You turn around to head back inside.
He stumbles forward, and grabs your wrist, eyes pleading. “Wait! I'm sorry! I'm nervous, please come over! I've never done this before, I promise I'm not like the others,” He basically begs and this time your eyes widen.
“Oh my. Don't tell me, the number one pro hero, is a virgin?” He looks away and goes silent. You throw your head back in laugh at the confirmation, and he pouts. Then, you grab onto the green tie and pull him forward, he stumbles in front of you, the blush returning. “I'm going to have so much fun with you, pretty boy.”
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Tonight was the best night ever, Izuku decides when his head is thrown back, mouth open, as you sink onto his cock. How could he be missing this all of his years? It was so much better than the fantasy. So much better.
“Oh god,” He groans, hands coming to your hips instinctually. You begin to steady your movements, sitting on your knees in his lap.
“How does it feel? After all this time, you finally lost your virginity,” You say with a grin, hand running down to trace his chest. He nods, a drunken smile pulling at his face.
He gazes down at your sexes and moans. “Feels good. Warm, mhmm so warm.” His voice cracks, “and tight. So much b-better than my hand.”
You laugh, but it comes out in broken pants, so you lean forward to kiss him. He pulls away quickly, eyes wide and panicked. “Oh fuck. Oh fuck. I'm going to cum. No, no, it's too earlier. I can't” He shakes his head and clutches at the sheets beneath him, trying desperately to hold it back, as you continue to ride him.
You shake your head with an adoring gaze. “’s alright. We will just have to go again. And again and again, until you are all fucked out, hmm?”
He stares at you with hearts in his eyes, nodding rapidly. “Yes. Yes, please, please. Fuck. Cumming. I’m cuming!” And just like he said, he released his load in you and rolls his eyes back. Small gasps and a silent moan tumble down from his lips, and his hand shakes as he grips onto your hips.
You coax him through it with a smile, running your fingers through his unruly hair. When he comes down from his high he stares at you with a lazy grin, and the next thing you know you are being flipped over.
Your eyes widen as you feel Izuku start to move in and out again. It was surprising, he had just come down from his orgasm. Wasn't he being overstimulated? His pathetic whine answered your question. “Iz-Izuku, do you want to take a break?” You sigh when he begins to pick up the ruthless pace again.
He leans his head into your neck and shakes his head rapidly. His voice comes out in a pitchy whine, “But you said!” He grips the pillow next to your head and whimpers into your neck, feeling the pain of his spent cock being overworked.
“We can go again after you recover.” You gasp and clutch onto his back, sending nail marks down it. He groans. “So it won't hurt you.”
He shakes his head again and you can feel the drip of the tears falling onto your neck. He was trembling. “No. Please don't make me stop. ‘m good. So good. Feels so so good.”
You grin, maybe a little sadistically as you watch him begin to crumble. You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer. He moans, high pitched, and loud. He presses his lips to your neck, sucking and marking any area he can lay his mouth on. You crane your neck to allow his urges. “I love it. I love it.” He half murmurs half whines in between kisses.
“Hmm?” You respond, not trusting yourself to speak while he begins to pick up the pace. One hand grips onto his hair and the other continues to scratch his back.
“Your pussy. S-So warm and tight. ’s like it was made for me.” He gasps and you laugh, to the best of your ability.
You pull him back by the mop on his head and he whines, eyes shut, as his head tilts backward. “What happened to my bashful virgin? You're so lewd now.” His hips pick up the pace.
He tries to the best of his ability to shake his head but ultimately fails under your grip. “But I love it! I do!” You laugh at the ridiculous response and let go of his hair. He collapses back and immediately buries his face into your neck again. “Im going to cum again. Can I cum? Please, please.”
“So quick. Still have a virgin body. Alright. For me, yeah?”
He nods a little embarrassed, and he feels his muscles begin to contract. He bites down on your shoulder and you hiss, but he ignores it, riding his second orgasm through. It's stronger and harder than the first and he screams into your skin, tears falling copiously down his round, flushed cheeks.
He peers down and widens his eyes when he sees his cum begin to leak out of your pussy. He gulps, feeling himself get hard once again, and flips you over immediately. “More. More. Please, just one more. One more time.” He lays completely on top of you and interjoins his fingers with yours.
He uses his arm to lift your hips up so that it was easier to fuck. It makes you raise your eyebrows. He must have watched a lot of porn to know that trick.
“What if I say no?” You tease and he releases an unsteady whine. His eyes are blurry from the tears.
“Please don't say no. Please, I love it. I love it so much. Please, Y/N!” He begs, dropping his head on the pillow next to your face.
“So needy.”
“P-Please.” He whimpers, in a voice so low you could barely hear and you grin.
“Alright. Go ahead.” You could barely finish your statement when all of a sudden he is pounding into you again, mumbling stuff like “Thank you. Thank you.” and “Good. So good.”
You know it hurts him. It has too, overstimulation is no joke. But the way he continues, eyes watery and hips frantic shows just how desperate he is. How obsessed he is with it. The pain didn't even matter to him, the thought of driving his cock into you spurred him on.
He wanted more. You opened his eyes, and once uncovering the truth, he could never get enough of it.
Fucking Izuku may not have been a good idea. In an instant, you turned this poor, cute virgin, into a pussy-starved man. But alas, he seems to only seek it from one particular person, so it may not be all that bad.
He came five times that night and you twice. He asked to go again, but you had to stop him when you took a peak at his fuming red cock, tear-stained cheeks, and trembling body. He doesn't seem to know when to stop.
You left early that morning, legs wobbly and body completely spent. He slept in, his body seeming to be more exhausted than yours.
When he woke up, his body sticky from sweat, his hair messy and body was sore, the first thing he took notice was the sticky note stuck onto his forehead.
Messy, cursive handwriting spelled out, I’ll be waiting for my lost puppy to come crawling back to me again. Xoxo, Y/N
He fell back onto the pillow with a groan. Not even a phone number. You were so cruel.
So, he does what any good puppy does. He attends every party for the next three weeks until he finds you again.
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andypantsx3 · 2 months
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𝑤𝘩𝑒𝑛 𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 : 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑖 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑜 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 : 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑖
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𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: In order to placate your anxious mother, you agree to return to your hometown to participate in a mating run—knowing full well that betas rarely get chased, never mind betas nearly old enough to age out of the practice. You’ve decided to treat it like a vacation, a chance to visit with your childhood friends, the mating run itself a nice relaxing hike. All in all it’s a solid plan—until alpha Todoroki Shouto, your best friend's little brother, steps in and blows it all to pieces. 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡: omegaverse, no quirks au, alpha!shouto, beta!reader, mating rituals, age gap, best friend’s little brother, older reader, afab reader, some class differences, aged up characters, semi-public sex, slight small town romance vibes, background implied dabihawks for some reason, smut, 18+; mdni! 𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑡ℎ: 5.7k | chapter 1 of 4
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Then
It was a freezing day in spring the first time you set foot in the Todoroki house.
You had shared a class with Touya for years now, and in that time you’d become something of his best friend. You’d bonded early over a mutual hatred of fish and your status as the two best tree climbers on the playground—two integral friendship quality bars if ever you’d met them—and your entente had strengthened over the following months.
After enough time together Touya had even seemed to like you, seeking out your opinion, deploying you like a shield between himself and the other kids. He wanted to be paired with you for group projects constantly, as he seemed to disdain the ability of the other kids in your class.
He eventually acquiesced to two other friends—Rumi and Keigo—as Keigo was a really fast runner, and Rumi could kick a kid almost clear across a playground. But the two of you remained particularly close, and a few years in, Touya had seemed to want to check the final box of your friendship.
That was the day he’d haughtily informed you that you were coming home with him.
You’d phoned your mother from the school office to obtain permission, and then pulled your jacket on to follow Touya out into the cold, his skinny legs beating a quick path through the streets.
You’d half-expected that Touya lived in a box behind a shop, with the way he descended ravenously on his lunches (as well as yours, and Rumi’s, when he could occasionally get them—though notably not Keigo’s, something that had only retroactively made sense to you as an adult). But the house Touya steered you to was enormous—easily the biggest house you’d ever seen—a stately pile at the end of a fancy neighborhood.
You’d later learn this was because his father was the mayor, and the Todorokis were neck-deep in generational wealth. At the time you’d been mildly annoyed, because what had you let him eat part of your lunches for if he lived in a house like this?
“I’m home,” Touya had called into the echoey foyer, grand but strangely barren. He’d kicked off his coat and shoes, discarding them carelessly—perhaps purposefully—on the floor, then gestured for you to follow him into the kitchen as a warm voice called out to him. “Welcome home, Touya.”
“I brought Y/N,” he announced grandly as he prowled into the room. To you he said, “This is my mother, Rei.”
The voice you’d heard resolved itself into a woman, tall, with beautiful long white hair and a small, but unmistakably fond smile on her mouth. You startled, immediately floored by her beauty. She looked just like Touya, the same delicate prettiness to her mouth, the shape of her eyes—but even lovelier. She looked simultaneously like she belonged on the cover of a magazine, and would be embarrassed by one saying so.
She also smelled like an omega—sweet, but a little wilder than you were used to. Like spring flowers blooming on a cold day.
“Hello Y/N,” she said warmly, turning to you. You gave a shy wave back, suddenly nervous in front of her.
As she turned you finally noticed the child on her hip—a small, round, pudgy little thing with half red and half white hair, and two mismatched grey and blue eyes that pinned on you immediately. It was wearing a horrendous polkadot onesie, and you felt your eyebrows raise without your permission.
“That’s Shouto,” Touya informed you, and the pieces slotted together in your brain. Ah, so that was the face to the name.
Shouto was the little brother Touya complained about incessantly—the one that was his father’s favorite, the one that stared too much and wanted to play with all of Touya’s toys even though he was too little for them, the one Touya was saddled with babysitting constantly. He’d made Shouto out to be this sort of tiny harbinger of evil—but Shouto did not look very evil, perched there on his mother’s hip.
He blinked at you, a flutter of surprisingly long eyelashes, for a baby. You had the thought that actually he was kind of cute. Most probably not a harbinger of evil, and actually very sweet-looking, if weirdly round.
“I need to be excused from Shouto duty,” Touya said, the question posed more like a statement.
Rei shook her head, a somber little smile playing about her mouth. “I have to make dinner before Fuyumi and Natsuo get back from their playdates and your father gets home. Why don’t you take Shouto to play with you and Y/N?”
Touya rolled his eyes in the long-suffering manner of a man who’d endured it all. Shouto didn’t seem to notice, however, his mismatched gaze barely detaching from your face. You noticed Shouto’s left eye was the exact vivid blue of Touya’s, and his other eye the same silver as his mother’s.
“He’s staring like a weirdo,” Touya complained, but collected Shouto from Rei anyway. Shouto let himself be passed over as placidly as a bag of potatoes, still watching you.
“Y/N is a new face for him, he’s just curious, Touya,” Rei said, smoothing Shouto’s hair down as Touya hefted him in his arms. Shouto reached out a hand towards you, fat fingers flexing.
“What, you think I’m some taxi service who’s gonna bring you wherever you want to go?” Touya demanded. Shouto ignored him, his little chubby arm wavering.
Strangely, something compelled you to step closer, reaching out a hand in return. Shouto seized it in his pudgy little fist, staring up at you with solemn eyes. His other hand reached out to you, too, twisting in Touya’s grip, and Touya let out an annoyed scoff.
“Y/N didn’t come here to hang out with you,” he said. But Shouto ignored him, his little hand fisting in your tee shirt. He seemed to be trying to lever himself up out of Touya’s arms and into yours.
You were startled, never having held a baby before, and Shouto was kind of a big one. But Touya showed you how to hold him under his butt and across his back, and you heard the rustle of his diaper as he was handed off to you.
“Hi Shouto,” you said, watching him watch you.
His eyebrows raised, some small happiness lighting up his expression, and he gave a little kick that wiggled his whole body in your arms.
“He likes you,” Rei said over the counter top, as she settled a cutting board and a pile of vegetables across it.
You looked back at Shouto, feeling weirdly pleased. Maybe babies weren’t that bad.
Touya made an annoyed sort of grunt, stomping past you. “We’re going to play in the living room,” he announced imperiously. You glanced at Rei to make sure that was okay, then followed Touya, Shouto heavy in your arms.
By the time you arrived, Shouto had settled a hand on either of your cheeks and seemed to be trying to stare directly into your soul, and Touya patted him firmly on the back, clucking. “Stop being such a little freak.”
“He’s fine,” you said, bemused. No one had told you really little kids were this intense and weird. But Shouto’s little round face was kind of sweet, and it was hard to be annoyed at a baby staring up at you, that clearly enamored.
“Actually he’s being way nicer to me than you,” you told Touya.
Touya rolled his eyes and busied himself pulling out a horde of action figures, legos, puzzles, and games, as well as a turtle with multi-colored blocks set into it that appeared to be for Shouto.
“Oi, it’s turtle time, weirdo,” he told Shouto.
That seemed to break the baby’s singular focus on you, and he peered around, lighting up nearly the same way when he saw his blocks as he had when he’d seen you. You laughed, and helped him settle on the floor next to you, watching his clumsy, chubby grip fumble on the blocks as he carefully removed them one-by-one from the plastic turtle.
Touya set up the legos around you, an older parallel of his brother, though you thought he would kill you for saying so.
A block appeared in your lap, carefully and deliberately placed by a fat-fingered hand. You smiled down at Shouto, picking it up and gesturing grandly. “For me?”
A grey-and-blue gaze attached itself solemnly to your face, as if awaiting your judgment, and an instant fondness swept over you. Who knew babies could be this cute—when they weren’t screaming and crying and generally being small and annoying near you. Touya had massively undersold his little brother, who was the sweetest baby you’d ever encountered.
You bowed your head, clutching your gifted block close to you. “Thank you, Shouto. It’s very nice.”
Shouto stared up at you, smiling a shy little almost-smile, clearly pleased. You couldn’t help but reach up and ruffle that distinct tuft of hair, taken with him already. Yep, definitely a good little kid.
And you decided then and there that you liked Todoroki Shouto—though for now he was a child—you both were children—and he could only mean so much to you.
You wouldn’t realize how much he’d actually come to mean to you, until many, many years later.
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Now
Touya’s white mess of hair was the first thing you spotted as you stumbled into the restaurant.
Outside it was unseasonably cold, an icy wind tearing through you as you’d rushed all the way from your mother’s house. The inside of the restaurant was blessedly warm, and slightly smoky from the meat and vegetables grilling away on each table top. Touya was on the far side, and you could see Rumi’s white hair beyond him, Keigo’s blonde riot of waves peeking over the top of the booth next to him.
Rumi faced the door so she spotted you first, a mouth-splitting grin overtaking her face as she waved you down.
You hurried your way over, letting out a surprised hrrk! when Rumi drew you down into a rib-crushing hug, her alpha strength barely contained. You fell into the seat at an awkward angle, your joints screaming.
“Well look what the cat dragged in! You don’t look a bit changed, you little beta cuck,” she crowed, making you choke on a laugh as you almost inhaled a mouthful of her hair.
“Rumi—!” you sputtered, half-pleased and half-scandalized that she clearly hadn’t changed in the years since you’d seen her last. She crushed you to her harder, and you could feel your eyeballs all but bulging like a rubber doll.
“If you plan to crush her to death you could at least wait until I clear the scene,” came Touya’s disaffected drawl from the other side of the table. “The last thing I need is police on my case again.”
That was so typical of him, too, after all this time.
“Good to see you too, Touya,” you said, even though you couldn’t get a look at him through Rumi’s hair. She ground her knuckles into the top of your head for good measure before releasing you, and you came up for air gratefully, watching the two men on the other side of the table grin at you.
Keigo looked exactly as you’d left him, a little bit more filled out than the skinny teen he’d been, the same wiry facial scruff growing in, those golden eyes alight with typical playfulness. Touya looked like he’d aged the most, his scars—fresher when you’d graduated—now deepened to the color of dark bruises. His features were still achingly familiar under them, however, the fine-boned prettiness of his mother shining through, his father’s blazing cerulean eyes the only nod to the other half of his parentage.
“So you really obeyed mommy dearest huh,” Touya said, pinning you with a smirk.
You rolled your eyes at him. As your closest childhood friend, he still knew all your weak spots, your mother the biggest of them. Growing up she’d been lonely and overworked, and you’d tried to care for her and please her the best you could. You still called her several times a week and sent back your wages to help pay for the house, and pay down the pile of debt your father had left her in when he’d died.
The concession of returning home for a few days to attend the annual mating run, as pointless as it was going to be, was the least you could do for her.
“You know as well as I do that no one is going to run down a beta,” you said, settling yourself in next to Rumi and shedding your coat and hat. “Especially not now that I’m well past newly-presented. It’ll be like a vacation.”
“You never know,” Keigo said, raising his fluffy eyebrows at you, his grin wicked. You flung the pile of your things across the table at him, but he intercepted easily, all alpha reflex. He stuffed your jacket down next to him, laughing at you.
“I do know,” you said emphatically. “And I’m not fussed about it. I don’t know who she thinks is going to pay her bills if I’m off getting dicked down by some knothead idiot.”
Touya made a dismissive noise and you looked around the table for something to fling at him too. He’d never had to worry about money, his future shored up with the Todoroki family fortune, built over generations and then basically quadrupled by his father. Since coming out of the correctional facility for a string of petty crimes, Touya had been skating by on family generosity, and you knew he wasn’t about to stop.
“Just burn her house down like mine,” he said, an unholy grin overtaking his face as he leaned forward. There was a light behind his eyes like he wasn’t entirely kidding. No one had ever been able to determine if the Todoroki family fire had been an accident or not, although Touya claimed it had been.
But you’d known Touya your whole life and you had your suspicions. Touya had hated his father for nearly all of your living memory—and the Todoroki men had an almost disturbing single-mindedness about them. You had long wondered if Touya’s fixation on his break with Enji had ever played into the fire that ravaged their house during your middle school years.
The one exception to the Todoroki single-mindedness was sweet little Shouto, who you’d last seen at your high school graduation. He was several years younger than you and had still been round-faced and chubby-cheeked then, all wide solemn eyes and pouty little mouth, just like when he was a baby.
You hadn’t seen him since, but couldn’t imagine Shouto turning out anything like Touya.
“I’ll take that under advisement,” you said to Touya, not liking how his grin widened.
Purportedly he’d come out of the correctional facility for good behavior, his record squeaky clean.
Purportedly.
“So why even agree to the run?” Rumi asked. “If you’re not looking to actually take anyone home?”
You helped yourself to the water that had been laid out before answering. “It’s just easier to appease my mother. She gets what she wants—some indication I’m open to my life mate-–and I get what I want, which is to be able to use this as an excuse next year.”
“Aww you won’t come back to see little old us?” Keigo asked. His tone was wheedling but his eyes tracked your expression carefully, always observing.
You smiled at him. You did miss your old friends, and you liked how easy it felt to sink right back into them after so many years away. You wanted to see them outside of the confines of a group chat or the rare facetime.
And you missed a lot about the town you’d grown up in. You liked the tiny storefronts of the downtown shops and the easy access to the coast and miles of hiking trails. You’d had a dream of opening up a little bookstore in one of the lovely brick buildings downtown when you were younger—but that was back before the staggering number of dollar signs on your mother’s bills had made themselves known to you and the romance of your daydream had begun to seem more like foolishness.
The bigger cities offered the bigger jobs, the bigger wages to send home. Even if it meant you could only see your friends every few years and mostly kept in touch via group chat.
“How about you guys come to me?” you asked. “There’s a chicken place I think Keigo will want to make the trip for.”
Keigo’s grin widened and he leaned in, interested. “Say no more,” he drawled.
On the table top, Touya’s phone vibrated. He peered at it, dismissing the notification with a swipe. “Rei wants to see you,” he reported, the usual blend of disrespect and unwilling fondness for his own mother layered in his voice. “She says you should come by the house.”
You smiled, pleased to be remembered. “I’d love that. Who’s living there now?”
Touya stretched, his back brushing the booth. “I do. And she does. Enji visits sometimes—” his tone was pointedly colorless “—and Fuyumi and Natsuo come by a couple times a week. Shouto is there almost daily for dinner when he’s not on shift, because his own cooking is absolute shit.”
You blinked, struggling to reconcile the idea of sweet-faced little Shouto with an adult who lived on his own now. “On shift?” you asked.
“He’s a fireman,” Touya rolled his eyes. “Little fucking do gooder. Ever since the house fire he’s wanted to.”
Your eyelashes fluttered again, your brain floating with the images of skinny, round-faced Shouto struggling to haul people out of a burning building. You struggled not to voice this disbelief.
“Wow, good for him,” you said.
“Not for me,” Touya complained. “Ever since he’s presented he’s been eating us out of house and home. Can’t find a fucking thing in the cabinets after he’s been through—”
And that shocked you, too, the idea that Shouto was already grown enough to have presented.
Objectively you knew he had to be into his early twenties at this point, but hearing the changes life had wrought on him was almost too much to contemplate. You wondered what he had presented as, and whether he’d be subject to the run this week as well. You’d always sort of suspected he’d be an omega, with that wide-eyed, beautiful face—almost a carbon copy of his mother’s, the same delicate prettiness in it as Touya.
And he’d been so sweet, too. When you’d been much, much younger—before Touya had become too cool and too emo for it—you remembered playing house together, remembered how often you’d dragged Shouto in to play the part of your son. He’d always sat there, a chubby-faced toddler, smashing blocks together and staring up at you with big eyes as you and Touya made plastic food and Touya unrolled a days-old newspaper collected from his father, bossing you around from his armchair.
Even when Shouto had gotten older and started to get as fresh with Touya as Touya was with him, he’d always been nice to you, always watched you with those same wide, mismatched eyes.
Yeah. He was most probably an omega.
“Well I’d love to see Rei, and Natsuo and Fuyumi and Shouto,” you said.
Touya stretched in the booth, not minding Keigo and thumping him right across the chest. Keigo squawked in annoyance.
“I’ll tell Rei you’re coming for dinner,” Touya said.
You smiled, pleased. You knew what a huge deal it was for both Touya and Rei to be in the same house again—both in recovery, both sharing the same space again.
When you’d left, Rei had been hospitalized and Touya had already been knee deep in petty crimes and utterly disinterested in any sort of overtures of help. For them to both be together again, getting regular help, with Enji out of the house and a rotating string of their family members checking in on them—you were happy to see them healing.
The buoyant feeling lasted all the way through lunch and too many drinks, until Touya shepherded you out of the restaurant, blazing a familiar path towards his family home. You followed, gratified when you saw that the Todoroki house was just as you remembered it, even the rebuilt pieces nostalgic.
Its grandness had been a shock to you as a child—not only in comparison to the tiny, squashed little two bed you’d grown up in—but that Touya had grown up there, in so vast and elegant a space. Touya who you dug in the dirt with. Touya who picked bugs out of the mud and put them on you. Touya who turned his nose up at dolls and ate things right out of your lunch box without asking, like he was a starving child without any access to food.
The house said otherwise.
Touya treated the Todoroki mansion with the same pointed lack of care he had as a teenager, kicking in the door as he led you inside, throwing his things in a pile in the entry. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, fondly nostalgic over his shithead behavior.
“You missed a spot—I think there’s a bare patch of floor over there,” you said.
Touya gave you a narrow-eyed gaze over his shoulder as he uttered a string of objects you might suck.
You raised your eyebrows at him, smiling and unbothered. He’d always said it was your beta nature that left you unfussed with his various attitudes, taking everything in stride. You didn’t know if that was true—you’d always sort of suspected it was the strange, inherent connection you felt to him, and to the Todoroki family at large that kept you fond of him, even as he descended into teenage fury.
You didn’t know what it was, as you’d not ever felt it with your other friends’ families who you’d spent nearly as much time with. But if it netted you a lifelong friend, you weren’t about to question it.
Rei was in the kitchen like she had been that first day Touya brought you home, an enormous expanse of marble counter and vaulted ceiling that made her look unfathomably small. Her snow white hair had been cropped short into a page boy cut and made her look younger than her years, especially when she glanced up at you with the very same smile she had when you were a child.
“Welcome back, Y/N,” she said. You bowed respectfully, Touya scoffing and grabbing the back of the collar to haul you up.
“She’s not the fucking prime minister,” he grunted.
“And you’re not the boss of me,” you sniped, the drinks you’d both shared at lunch making you a little looser tongued in front of Rei than you’d have liked.
“Shouto will be by in just a few minutes as well, and he’ll be so happy to see you,” Rei said, smiling gently.
“Shouto lives on his own?” you asked, curious. Aside from picturing him as the skinny preteen you’d last seen him as, you also had trouble imagining kind, sweet little Shouto leaving his mother on her own—and with Touya definitely counted as on her own, for all the help he was. Shouto seemed devoted, familial.
“He’s wanted his own space since he presented,” Rei said lightly, clearly unbothered.
It was rare for omegas to peel off from their family units before finding a mate, and the strangeness of striking out on his own struck you even further. Maybe he wanted a nest to bring someone back to, after finding the right person?
You wondered if he was going to be participating in this year’s mating run, and made a mental note to try and find out if he wanted help avoiding any undesirable alphas. If he was an omega, your beta scent would help disguise some of his tracks, you’d just have to follow in his footsteps far enough away from the main track that a ranging alpha wouldn’t accidentally stumble upon it.
That thought was cut short, however, by the sound of the door creaking open in the foyer you’d just come in from. There was the sound of rustling fabric, like someone shedding their coat, and then footsteps padded through the hall. A hint of a scent met your nose, slightly sweet and smoky, with an undercurrent of something fresh—like a campfire burning on a cold, clear day. Your brow furrowed, the frostiness an almost-familiar dimension, like Rei's cold widlflower scent. Who was—?
Then a tall, unfamiliar alpha poked his head through the door, fluffy red and white strands of hair tangling across his forehead. He was an arresting sight—easily the most beautiful person you had ever seen, every single one of his features so perfectly and evenly placed, like he'd been put together deliberately. He looked startlingly like Rei, if Rei were a man, except for the fiery blue of his left eye, the shock of scarlet hair above it.
You stared at this new interloper, confused, until you were seized with a sudden memory of that scar, that same mop of hair bent over a turtle-shaped block puzzle.
No. No fucking way.
Rei smiled, opening her arms, and you gaped after him as Todoroki Shouto prowled across the kitchen to her, enveloping her in a hug. Where Touya was taller than his mother, his baby brother almost dwarfed her, easily clearing six feet, his shoulders broad and his frame packed with dense muscle. He'd always had the same elegant, sweetly beautiful set to his features that his mother and Touya did, but there was something sharper about them now, a slightly more alpha edge to him.
An enormous bicep shifted against the sleeve of his t-shirt as Shouto held Rei, and suddenly it was very clear how Shouto had managed to become a firefighter.
Something pinched your arm, hard, and you whipped around to stare at Touya accusingly. “Ouch!”
He smirked. “Don’t fucking stare like he does.”
You scowled at him, and opened your mouth to say something unsavory, until two mismatched eyes turned on you, pinning you in place.
“Y/N,” Shouto said. His voice was deep as midnight—so much lower than you had remembered—careful and smooth. The sound of it slithered up your spine like a shiver.
“Shouto?” you answered, stepping closer. “You’re Shouto? Are you sure?”
Shouto released his mother, only the tiniest corner of his mouth twitching. And that was confirmation enough. Shouto had always been a little serious, watching you carefully and intently. He was most like his mother that way—withdrawn, a little bit solemn.
“As far as I am aware,” he said. His tone was flat but you heard the tease in it, regardless. And that was so like him too, couching his inner little shit under the most serious tone, under those earnest heterochromatic eyes.
“Wish he wasn’t,” Touya muttered.
“Oh my god, Shouto. You’ve grown up so much,” you said, a strange thrill zinging up your spine as he stepped closer. That scent like campfire on a cold day washed over you, making you a little dizzy.
Shouto’s eyes got a little bit round at the edges, and something pulled at the corner of his mouth again, an expression you didn’t recognize. His tone was soft as he observed, “You are exactly the same as I remember.”
You could tell he meant it kindly, so you chose not to be offended with his obvious tact. You were well aware you were not a fresh-faced high school graduate anymore.
“I’m definitely older than you remember,” you said, resisting the urge to poke him in the chest. Your hand felt magnetized toward it for some reason. “Don’t be surprised if you hear my bones creaking all the way from the preserve during the run.”
Something sudden and strange passed over Shouto’s face, those mismatched eyes narrowing in on you.
“You’re running,” he said, his tone suddenly flat. “This year.”
“Yeah I’m back in town for it,” you said, ignoring Touya’s scoff at your side. “Gotta appease my mother. She doesn’t get that betas aren’t the target crowd for this, nevermind ancient ones. That, and I plan to disappear up a tree if someone so much as sniffs in my direction.”
“Up a tree,” Shouto repeated, sounding contemplative.
You wondered if he was internalizing how weird you were. He probably wouldn’t have remembered you being weird, considering how younger kids never thought to question their older peers. Maybe he’d even thought you cool when you were growing up together—you’d quickly disabuse him of that notion.
You nodded. “I’ve only been followed by alphas twice and both times I lost them up that big willow overlooking the bay, if you take the seaside path out two miles?”
Shouto’s eyes tracked you closely, like he was committing every word to memory. “I know it.”
You smiled. “The sea breeze is just enough to hide a beta’s scent, once you’re out of sight up there. I hope the city life hasn’t gotten me too out of shape to get up the trunk. Though to be frank I’m not too worried about it this year. Are you running?”
“Yes,” Shouto said, so quickly that it looked like he’d startled himself.
Touya’s head whipped around to stare at him, and Rei’s eyelashes fluttered momentarily, a weird stillness overcoming her—until a sort of look of understanding came over her features. You thought you caught a hint of a smile as she ducked her head to return to her dinner preparations.
“Thought you said you weren’t interested,” Touya said, his tone accusing. “You’ve never run before.”
Shouto looked deeply unfussed by his older brother’s sudden consternation. “Perhaps I have changed my mind.”
“The hell you did,” Touya said snottily. “You said you knew you wouldn’t find your life mate there.”
“Perhaps that has changed too,” Shouto said, his tone so dry that you could tell he was purposefully needling Touya. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Brothers.
Touya’s scoff overlaid the thump of Rei’s knife as she returned to chopping, and you realized how rude it looked for the three of you to be standing there arguing while she was working.
You hurriedly stepped around Touya and Shouto, peering over Rei’s shoulder. For some reason you were hyperaware of Shouto as you passed him, a thought you shoved right back out of your mind as you approached Rei. “Is there anything I can help with? I feel like I have years of free dinners to pay you back for.”
“I am almost done, but thank you, Y/N,” Rei said, as Touya said something in a haughty tone of voice, and Shouto’s low baritone answered. Rei’s mouth quirked softly at this—and you realized it was the same way Shouto smiled, small and private.
“—Not bringing home some weird fucking omega,” Touya was saying when you turned back to the boys. You startled when you realized Shouto had shifted to face you instead of his brother, and his body language looked like he was mostly ignoring him.
You channeled your sudden laugh into a fake cough. Touya eyed you sourly, long used to your tricks.
“Well if you want any help on the run, let me know,” you told Shouto, cutting into their argument with the practice of a beta used to diffusing things, especially between Touya and others. Shouto’s mouth twitched again like he knew what you were doing, and you watched his eyes pick over you speculatively.
You marveled at how far back you had to tilt your head if you wanted to look him directly in the eye now. He was so big, and so unexpectedly handsome—he really had grown up well. Some omega was going to be very, very pleased at the end of this week, provided he really did go after someone.
“If it’s your first you probably won’t know all the best hiding spots,” you told him.
Not that they were really hiding spots, considering most omegas wanted to be found. And there was no one on this earth who wouldn’t want to be found by an alpha who looked like Shouto did now. But he’d probably want to make sure he got to his intended first, before any other alpha found them.
Shouto nodded, leaning forward conspiratorially. “I will take you up on that,” his tone was low, intimate.
You smiled up at him, though something weird twinged in your chest. “Lunch sometime this week then? I’ll walk you through everything.”
Touya made a noise of disgust, and you shushed him. Shouto’s smile pulled into a quarter-moon sliver, sweet and beautiful. “I would like that.”
A strange little thrill zinged down your spine. You very pointedly did not think about it, instead shooting Shouto a thumbs up. And then, seized by a sudden need to get away, you marched forward to grab Touya by his collar, dragging him out into the dining room.
“Do you have to make your mother do everything? Let’s set the table,” you ordered him, shoving him at the cabinets. Touya swore at you, trying to twist his lanky body out of your hands, spitting like a wet cat.
But your mind was already elsewhere, occupied by this strange new turn of events. It really had been a long time away from your hometown, and much more had changed than you realized. You’d missed seeing Touya start to recover his life, you’d missed Rei returning to herself, you’d missed Shouto growing up into a man—and an alpha. You were suddenly overcome by the feeling that you did not want to miss any more, did not want to leave again—though of course that was foolishness.
The run was less than a week away, and you had train tickets back into the city just after.
And you had your mom to provide for, much as she wanted you to settle down with the first rando who got handsy with you in the woods. An alpha would have to bring more than an interest in you to your coupling in order to win you—and that was not going to happen, especially not to a beta, and especially not to you.
You laid the dishes out, resolving yourself. You’d enjoy this week, but never lose sight of the fact that you’d still have to leave at the end of it.
After all, it wasn’t like some miraculous twist of fate was lurking just around the corner of the Todoroki kitchen, ready to change your life.
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bakubunny · 5 months
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f!reader | thinkin abt this hc, but katsuki is roommates with denki. katsuki is pretty sure he’s heard denki’s girl cum more and harder than any girl he’s ever been with in his life. he’d never want to say it, but he’s questioning his sexual abilities with every passing orgasm, and he audibly witnesses a lot of them. sure, you always cum when he’s intimate with you - at least twice every time, he makes sure of it. but he’s never turned you into a complete mess like denki’s girl is every time they fuck or whatever it is they do.
so one day, katsuki finally bucks up the courage to say something to his best friend and admits he might want to do better with you in bed. denki is a little surprised and embarrassed; he never expected katsuki to be the one asking him for sex advice. he’d just taken the time to figure out what works for him and assumed that if anything, the roles might be reversed.
they talk, denki shares a little bit of what he does and eventually asks katsuki, “dude, when was the last time you slowed down and took your time?”
denki realizes the answer is probably never when katsuki spits back a defensive, “whadda ya mean?”
so he explains in more detail. katsuki takes mental notes.
・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆
the next time katsuki’s got you in his bed, something is different. he’s a little too soft and a little too slow for your preference as he goes in for a kiss, so you pull him deeper. but he’s still got a measured pace, the way his hands are firm and trace your body like he means it. with him, sex is overwhelming and all consuming. it’s hard and fast and raw. but not today.
there’s a hint of impatience in his movements, but he stops himself; he spends extra time caressing your face, in the crook of your neck, mapping out every little spot that makes your breath catch just a hair or your fingers curl a little tighter and committing it better to memory. then his tongue is in your mouth, and he’s groping you over your clothes. a small whimper leaves your lips as you try to shift and get your legs around his waist, but he doesn’t let you.
realization hits when katsuki stops to look you in the eye. your cheeks are flushed hard, and it’s almost difficult to look back with how much heat is radiating between your legs. usually by now he’s got you half naked and grinding, or his hand is deep in your cunt. a twinkle lights his eyes, a boyish grin on his face. you pull him into you, pushing your face into his neck with a shyness you hadn’t felt with him in a long time.
“what?”
you shake your head and kiss his neck, taking in the warmth of his skin and the way he sighs into your touch.
“need somethin?” he teases. his hand runs down your torso to grip your hip. the same hand slides under the fabric of your shirt to caress your side.
“no,” you reply quietly. “you’re usually a bit more… fast paced. that’s all.”
his lips are grazing your neck, his tone low and playful. “yeah. i’m tryin somethin new. got a problem with it?”
he’s kissing you neck again before you can respond, sucking and licking faint marks into a tender spot on your skin.
your breath catches. “n-no, not at all.”
“good.” katsuki puts his muscular thigh between your own and presses it to the damp heat of your cotton shorts.
a small whimper escapes your throat.
“now be a good girl n' grind on me, princess.”
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temptacioun · 7 months
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† noncon ; somnophilia / noncon, mentions of drugs, oral (f. and m. receiving)
the bed creaks softly under his slow movements, the mattress sinking under his weight as he approaches your pretty passed out form. he’s not worried ; it was pretty easy to spike your drink, you were too focused on the conversation before to notice. that had been your first mistake, but he couldn’t complain.
for a moment he just sits and stares, eyes trailing down the glimpses of naked skin and his pants are suddenly much too tight. he leans forward, fingers twitching ; itching to touch and grope. and so he does. his fingers find solace in cupping your tits through the skimpy dress you decided to wear that night, a soft moan leaving his lips at the feeling. much better than he’d imagined all those lonely times.
he shifts, to lie down next to you with a soft smile on his lips — how pretty you are. he could see your eyes twitching behind closed lids, were you dreaming? oh, he hoped you were dreaming of him, too. like he always dreamt of you. he can’t help himself when he leans in, your lips are too inviting to pass up on.
he’s careful at first, pushing his lips against yours before his tongue swipes over your bottom lip and he could taste the faint remnants of your cherry gloss. he moves again, ontop of you this time with a hand squishing your cheeks together and forcing your lips to part to receive his eager tongue. he can’t help but moan against your lips, his free hand leaving your breast in favor of trailing down your body — lower, and lower. teasing the hem of your dress and grabbing the fat of your thigh and spreading your legs with ease.
he liked you like this, so compliant and soft. he pulls back to settle between your thighs, eyes trained on the pretty red lace there. his hands tremble with excitement, so careful when he reaches out to peel the garment down your thighs and his breath hitches in his throat when he notices how it sticks to your already drenched pussy.
he’d told himself he would be slow, that he’d enjoy himself and take his time ; but you were too tempting. he almost topples over, bracing his palms against your thighs and his nose bumps into your clit, tongue flat against your cunt and he was salivating at the taste. the soft little whimpers and gasps that fell from your lips were like music to his ears. he reaches higher, tongue flicking against your clit while his fingers inch closer towards your cunt — mesmerized by how easy your wet heat swallowed his fingers, practically sucking them in and he moans into your pretty pussy.
his cock strains against his sweatpants but he couldn’t care less about himself at the moment, so engrossed in your sweet scent ; he swore he was getting high off it. would get lost in your taste and he doesn’t even know how long he’s spent between your thighs already when he finally lifts his head for a breather.
he swears his eyes almost fall out of his head when he sees your face. your eyebrows cinched together, lips slick with drool and so soft, so plush. he chokes on his own spit at the sight. there’s a moment of silence, only your soft breathing could be heard before he shuffles himself off the bed to stand next to it instead. his hands fall down to pull the strings of his sweatpants and free his cock.
his hand falls down, thumb and index finger grasping your chin and turning your head to face him instead. he thumbs at your bottom lip, pulling it down before he squishes your cheeks together once more. his free hand wraps around the base of his cock while he pushes against your pretty plush lips, smearing precum all over and he sucks in a sharp breath at the sight.
he still can’t believe how easy it all was, pushing his cock past your plump lips and he releases a breath he was holding ; hand slipping to the back of your head and curl his fingers into your soft locks to guide you further down his length. he could hear your breath stuttering, your throat protesting around his cock but he doesn’t care. he can’t hold back anymore.
his pace quickens, grunting and groaning ; hips stuttering and it’s almost embarrassing how quickly he finishes down your throat. how sad, he’d hoped he would’ve lasted a little longer, but he can’t complain with how soft your throat felt. his lips twitch up into a small smile when he pulls away and tucks his cock back into his pants. his thumb swipes over your bottom lip, collecting some of his spilled cum and smearing it over your lips.
there was cum on your face, a soiled wet patch on the mattress beneath your thighs — he couldn’t wait to see your face in the morning.
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a11eya · 1 day
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while standing in line at the store, a familiar face on the cover of vogue catches your eye.
it’s bakugou, in black and white, unsmiling, eyes fierce.
you grab it and buy it. you’re sooooo going to use this to make fun of him later, when you clock in for your shift at the agency. he always said he’d never do one of these photo shoots—over his dead body.
true to form, he snaps and growls at you when you tease him, all bark and no bite, settling down into an annoyed simmer once you both head out on patrol.
it’s later, at home, when the magazine falls out of your bag while you’re cooking dinner that you actually take the time to look at his spread.
okay, so he’s hot. you’ve known that for a while now.
but maybe the bonk on the head you got while fighting on patrol today knocked some screws loose, because—because you can’t stop looking at him. at the photo of him in a black turtleneck, cloth tight around his biceps. at the photo of him shirtless, a peek of designer briefs over the waist of his pants.
dinner is a little burnt, that night.
when you come into work the next day, you can’t look at him without feeling flushed, overwhelmed, confused.
so you avoid him.
you switch patrol partners for the week, you stay away from the common areas, you sit far away from him during agency meetings and refuse to make eye contact.
it works, for a while. you figure you’re over your temporary break from reality after a week, so you let yourself use the break room to make yourself a much-needed cup of coffee. when the door opens behind you, you don’t pay it any mind, humming to yourself.
“what the hell’s your problem?” bakugou snarls, and you whirl around.
he’s got you backed up against the counter, arms braced on either side of you, before you can say a word.
this close, you can see the details of the scarring on his face, the length of his eyelashes, the vivid crimson of his eyes. the angry downturn of his lips.
horrifyingly, a fluttery feeling stirs in your stomach.
oh no, you think.
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glitterycvm · 18 days
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USELESS₊˚⊹♡
[•~AGEDUP!PROHERO!MIDORYIA X F!READER~•] smut/slight angst
synopsis: your pro hero boyfriend comes back angry and hurt and needs a way to relieve some stress
warnings: dom!izuku sub!reader degradation, spanking, use of "whore" and "slut", praise
a/n: pt.2?
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the front door slams, which is soon accompanied by faint footsteps gradually getting louder and louder. they sounded urgent and quick. the suspense making your heart race and stomach drop.
you leave your room to further investigate the sudden footsteps, only to be greeted by your boyfriend, izuku sat on the couch. but something was off about him. he didn't have his usual soft and caring personality. his aura wasn't so welcoming and gentle.
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"please izuku, baby- just talk to me..." you sigh. izuku had just came home from a mission and he seemed frustrated. and you had been urging the man to open up, after all izuku wasn't the type to get angry easily.
"I told you I'm fine." he shuts you off again. that's all he had been repeating for the last 10 minutes. he kept brushing you off, ignoring the obvious tint of worry slowly spreading all over your face.
"baby please- tell me-"
"fine. you wanna know so bad huh? just can't leave me alone. I'll show you then, since you can't mind your own fucking business." he snaps. you've never seen this side of him. he looked so angry, and frustrated. he was fed up with whatever it was bothering him.
izuku grabs your hands forcefully, his grasp making it impossible for you to even attempt to break through. but it wasn't like you would try to, seeing izuku so fed up and furious sorta turned you on, but you would never tell him that.
eagerly, the green haired man drags you to your sharfed bedroom, slamming the door as quickly as he could. he shoves you onto the mattress, his shadow towering all over you. before you could realize his rough calloused hands reach for the hem of your shorts, toying with the waistband.
"can I?" izuku always made sure he had your approval before doing anything, after all his biggest fear is hurting you. you nod, completely lost in the sudden adrenaline rush.
izuku sighs, his frustration grows even more, he delivers a soft but warning slap on your leg. "y'know better, use your words." it was evident he wasn't messing around. "you can..." was all it took before izuku slides your shorts off in one swift motion, leaving one small rip in them.
you sigh loudly at the sensation of the cold air hitting your naked legs. then a finger runs all over your panties, teasing your soaking hole, slick seeping through the soft cotton fabric. he smirks at the sight. "mm-, didn't know I could do this to ya, makes me feel kinda useful for once..." he chuckles, fingers rubbing your clothed clit.
deep breaths quicken as you ache for more stimulation, hips slowly grinding against his finger. izuku sucks his teeth before holding your hips down, restricting you from any movement. "if you want more, you gotta ask princess." he adds, a cocky grin painted all over his face.
"p-please zuku- more.." you mumble out. he scoffs loudly again, another slap meeting your thigh, this time a little bit harder. "for what? don't act dumb now." he snaps, fingers now rubbing over your clothed clit even slower. despite how humiliated you felt, you were so desperate for more. "please baby, I need you in me..."
panties are thrown across the bedroom, your bare pussy out for him. he lets a hand rub all over your inner thighs, collecting all the arousal which seeped out. "looks like I don't needa prep you huh, pretty girl? but what else did I expect from a slut like you.." he chuckles before reaching down to his belt.
he slowly unbuckles the belt, before stopping suddenly. "nah, since you wanted to piss me off, you do it." grabbing one of your soft gentle hands and placing them on his belt. and you oblige, you didn't care what it took, all you wanted was his cock in you right now.
you unbuckle his belt and slide his boxers off, freeing his girthy cock. his hairs were trimmed and his tip was a rosy pink, veins decorating the length. izuku shudders, "mmm, what do you want baby?" he cooes, hands caressing your cheek.
"I want youu-zuku please put it in" you beg, your eyes staring back up at him so gently. izuku smiles warmly for a split second, distracting you from the fact he had just pushed your legs all the way down to your chest, knees touching your chest. he slams himself in, the girth stretching you out, leaving you with a painful yet pleasurable burn.
the two of you let out breathy moans, which are soon disturbed from izuku's sudden harsh thrusts. usually when you two had sex, he was so gentle and sweet. slow but passionate thrusts as he whispered sweet nothings in your ears. but right now, you weren't even sure if this was the same izuku you knew before.
"everybody sayin im fuckin useless..." he groans, hips bucking into your even quicker, making you yelp out with pleasure. his cock moving in and out of your walls at an impossible speed. "always talking about m'not good for anything." he scoffs
you now were beginning to piece together what had happened earlier, what left izuku so angry earlier. you knew people would constantly mock him for his quirk, and his backstory. and usually he wouldn't care, after all why should he? but today was his breaking point.
"m'not useless though..." he mutters, hi thrusts getting sloppier, hands pushing your legs down even more. "isn't that right? nobody could ever fuck my girl as well as I can" he affirms, hands tilting your chin down, maintaining eye contact.
you nod, too lost in the pure bliss you were experiencing from the sensation of feeling his pelvis grind against your clit. not only that, but izuku was ramming into your g-spot in the right place too. making you sob for more.
"I asked you a question." he grunts, his thrusts getting harder and harsher as he slaps your thigh swiftly. making you yelp as you feel the sharp sting. "m- sorry! you- you fuck me so good zuku'" you cry out. you couldn't believe the erotic words leaving your lips right now. it was so embarrassing.
"yeah, dunno what they talking about. always talking shit. bet they none of them could even get you to the brink of an orgasm hm?" he grunts. at this point he was just mumbling to himself. too lost in his frustrated thoughts.
you could feel the edge of an orgasm overtake you. "f-f-fuck!! zuku! gonna cum-" you squeal. izuku groans, and sighs, an annoyed expression planted all over this face. "did I say you could? I wasn't done princess. hold it." he commands as he continues to fuck you into the mattress.
but you couldn't- not when he looked so hot all stressed and furious. the sweat beading off his forehead as he fucked you like a dirty whore. you twitch, body jolting up quickly. the overwhelming feeling of pleasure filling you up. your cum coats his cock quickly, making izuku whimper loudly.
"shit- didn't I tell you not to cum? dirty whore couldn't even listen to my directions. shouldn't have expected you to listen though, you selfish little brat." he scolds, harshly slapping your clit. leaving you sobbing loudly.
"guess I gotta show you how to be a good girl then."
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