#kyleewritesmha

[bakugoushotwife]

kinktober day eleven: monsterfucking kink

>>> guys this one may be my fav day ngl...as you can tell by my blog's entire theme that this is my biggest and most violent fantasy i need dragon king bakugou in the worst way please oh my god please

>>> EDIT 10/11: MHA LEAKS OMFG THIS DROPPED THE DAY MHA LEAKS BAKUGOU IS BACK MY GLORIOUS KING!!!!

>>> starring: dragon king!bakugou x curvy!fem!reader >>> cw: monsterfucking, bakugou is a hybrid, no prep, creampie, breeding, biting, blood, dark content, kinda forced marriage? mating bonds, uh, i think that's it. >>>wc: 2.9k >>> event masterlist

it was the new king’s coronation day, and as tradition demands, he shall have his pick of the finest women in his lands. you were brought forth amongst a host of other ladies deemed pretty enough for the young king to choose from. you were the only one of them that seemed irritated by the prospect, all the other girls were tittering and combing their hair while discussing their chances of being picked to be the dragon king’s new bride. he examined you all in a line, sneering at all the smiling and fluttering lashes—sending them crying from the room. he pauses on you, his gaze was stern and fiery but you didn’t hesitate to square your shoulders and meet it. he’s surprised; you don’t smile or extend your hand for him to kiss. you challenge him, you tell him with that strong set jaw and steel stare that you won’t be easy. he feels a pull on his heart, something he cannot yet explain. he likes you. 

you tilt your chin up, almost like you’re the one sizing him up. you’re so regal and amusing to him that his mind is made up instantly, but he gives you a few more minutes of looking him over, hoping to see some semblance of interest on your face. king bakugou was a hulking form of a man, towering above everyone in the room. they always were bigger than the normal humans, but he was larger than any of the dragon shifters you had ever come across. the room almost didn’t seem big enough to contain him, and it was his castle. his burlap trousers balloon around his lower half, but it seems there were not shirts big enough to fit the new king of dragons, only a long fur cloak that fastened with a golden dragon broach stretching across the broad expanse of his chest. he was tanned and scarred from years of flight and battle, and muscled even more so. he had hints of sparkling scarlet scales trailing along his collarbones with pointy teeth that alluded to his other form. his biceps bulged as he folded his arms across his chest, admiring you as you admire him with a satisfied smirk on his face. you didn’t throw yourself at him like the rest, and he doubted you would yet still, but you weren’t shy to let your eyes linger on him. he likes you. 

he smirks your way, grunting his approval. you were the perfect match. you certainly were the most beautiful creature of his kingdom, and your womanly figure assured him that he would sire several successful heirs with you. you captivated him and you had not yet spoken a word, though the young king could feel that fierce tugging on his heart again, something he now recognizes to be his mating bond the longer he looks at you and the stronger the feeling grows. 

“mine.” he says simply, nodding at you in content. his right hand man and fellow dragon shifter steps closer, handing his friend and king a fur pelt similar to the one he wears before retreating back into the onlooking crowd. the king unclasps the matching golden dragon, swinging the covering over your shoulders and snapping the jewelry back into place with a surprising nimbleness. this was the first of many gifts the king would dole out for his mate and queen, but this is the first one to mark you as his. you’re shocked to be chosen, convinced he would take your surveying for disrespect and brutalize you here to send a message— but alas, the most explosive dragon ruler in all the lands chose you as his bride. “you are my mate. we will marry in two moons. dismissed.” 

he looks over your head when he says this, ending the celebrations in favor of alone time with his chosen. his gaze has a hint of boredom to it as it glides around the room, red and fiery with unspoken strength and power behind them. you straighten yourself under the weight of your new cloak, bowing your head out of respect, albeit so quick it made the king exhale heavily through his nose as if to chuckle. 

“you are amusing, mate.” he says, extending a warm battle-worn hand to push your hair away from your neck. he lets it rest against your shoulder, smirking at how small you were compared to him. it was overwhelmingly apparent that he could do anything he wanted to with you, and you weren’t necessarily opposed to the concept. you started this day with immense rage and dread at having to go before the king and be selected like a prize horse. but he surprised you, even being every bit as brute and brash as everyone said he’d be, his eyes sparkled when they came across you. he declared you his mate—-a huge deal for a dragon shifter, and shrouded you in the engagement cloak without so much as a second thought. there was no arguing with the king, nor his mating bond. your soul was created to nurture his, and vice versa. he felt this snap into place instantly, as a mortal, you probably wouldn’t feel the strength of your connection for several days to weeks. it was an honor, one you couldn’t believe was bestowed upon you—but you certainly weren’t complaining anymore. “i like you.” 

you feel your body warm a bit from something as simple as his touch. he’s rough around the edges, and certainly doesn’t know how to be gentle or verbose, but his statement makes you smile warmly anyway. “thank you, my king. i’m quite amused as well.” 

he lets his hand slide from your shoulder all the way to your hand, clutching it tight as he brings it to his lips, giving it a chaste kiss. your scent makes his heart skip a beat, and he wonders if he can make it through the next two months without ravaging his sweet maiden. 

the days pass, slowly, but they pass. your king brings you several gifts and trinkets, filling your new chambers with tokens of his affection and fondness for his mate. the dragons were known for this, and your mate was the brightest and biggest of them all. so never did he go out to fly without returning with a clutch of presents. he was always so proud of himself as he showed them to you, shoving all the perfumes and jewels in your hands with a boastful grin. 

“i found these for you. wear them.” he grunts, roughly pulling you into his arms for a crushing hug. he was working on it, but he manhandled you on accident a majority of the time, not used to interacting with women. you were getting used to it anyhow, only giggling and nodding your acceptance, cooing at how beautiful all the gifts were. he preens in your praise, eager to earn the deep affection that the bond produces. 

you couldn’t deny that the bond was starting to affect you, as if you needed any help falling for the monster of a man meant to be your husband. he was kind and loving to you, and you couldn’t ask for much more. he was feared and revered, if you were dumb enough to cross him or his kingdom—soon to be your kingdom, then you earned the punishment of his hellfire tenfold. you wouldn’t find yourself begging for lives to be spared as you stand in the crowd while watching the king dole out sentences. he was brutal, and scary, vicious and primal in every way. his servants tremored in his wake, and though his people loved his protection, they feared his wrath. you were truly the only exception, and it was mystical for everyone to see the fierceness that abounds for his soon to be wife, his forever mate, his queen. and they could only hope your loving tenderness would tame the wild king. 

he took meals with you, showed you around his dreary and plain castle, easily agreeing to your every decoration suggestion and insisting you do whatever you want—this is your home now too. he even took you on rides in his gorgeous dragon form, letting you see how beautiful the sun setting over the kingdom was, flying you to different nations, journeying close to the seawaters so you could feel the salty wind on your skin. he forced himself to sleep in his own quarters at night, trying and struggling to abide by common decency. 

when your wedding day finally arrived, the king was more than ready to make you his queen officially—and then cart you to bed where decency would be the last thing on his mind. the ceremony is gorgeous, the image of you in your wedding gown was never to be forgotten on him, even though he couldn’t wait to rip it off of you. his brain had already geared into the darker side of things by the time you were being shown to your now shared chambers, and he could not resist his mate any longer. 

you weren’t faring much better. however this mating bond usually affected mortal women, it had you ready to climb your king like a tree. as soon as the doors were closed, he was on you, shoving you backwards while hastily tearing at your dress. you assist him in getting it over your head with only minimal rips in the fabric. you can’t bring yourself to care as you fall back on the bed with his body covering yours like a blanket. he’s snarling, but he’s not angry, just eager and too impatient to think about all the lessons he’s learned in being gentle. he scoops you up and tosses you up towards headboard, and you swear you can see steam billow off his form as he eyes you down, watching you lay and spread for him. 

“it’s been hard…waiting for you.” he complains, unfastening his cloak and letting it fall to the floor. the moment is so intense, you can feel the air thicken, smell the need permeating the air. he’s breathing heavily already, tugging at the weaving strings keeping his pants closed. your breath hitches when you see his scales glisten in the moonlight, the outline of his cock pressing against the troublesome burlap material. you pant out and nod, knowing the growth before you was only the first hint of what he had to pleasure his mate with. dragon shifters are larger than mortal men in every way, reflecting their dragon status in several different physical markers along their bodies, scales along their collarbones and spines, long mane-esque hairstyles, and of course their cocks. he steps out of the clothing, his massive leaking dick slapping up against his abs with a loud smack, you moan. 

his ashy patch of hair and the scarlet scales glistening against his hip bones direct your attention to the monster cock you married. he’s long, thick, curved, lined with veins and a throbbing pink tip leaking his pre-cum in droplets on the bed. it was easily half the size of his thigh, both length and width wise. he fixes himself on the bed, shredding your panties with sharp talons and eyeing your tiny hole. he has all the intentions to stretch you a bit, to get you soaked to accommodate him but when he looks back up at you, you’re drooling. 

you can’t imagine how good that’s going to feel inside you. all the times you had touched yourself out of curiosity or even genuine horniness would hardly compare to this, to the man it’s attached to—the way he watches you like a predator tells you there was nothing in this world that would prepare you for what he was about to do to you–what you wanted him to do to you. “i know…” you say after taking a deep breath, reaching for his face. “i’ve had to wait just as long.”

you squirm in place, lidded eyes flickering from his endowment to his eyes and then back again. “just wanna feel my king…i know you’ll fill me up so well.” you coo, batting your lashes. 

he’s not in the right mind to banter with you, the only thoughts crossing his brain at the sight and scent of you was to ravage. he grips your hips tightly, trying to will himself to be stronger and give his new bride the treatment she deserves. he should prepare you like a gentleman, but unfortunately the young king is unable to will himself to be gentle. you seem to read his mind, nodding and spreading your legs a bit further, allowing him to get settled in the space you provide. he wastes no time in lining up with your entrance and bottoming out. he knows it’s sadistic that he enjoys the way your eyes cross at the sensation, the burning and splitting stretch ripping a sob from your throat. you clutch at his arms, the natural slick you produced just from your own anticipation aiding him in the glide. he stays still for a moment, letting you adjust to him so he can also adjust to the feeling of your virgin pussy gripping him like a hand-tailored glove. he can’t fight the groan that leaves his lips, mindfully keeping his talons retracted as he rakes his hands over your plush stomach and wide hips, stopping to paw at your thick thighs and fat ass. he’s already rendered speechless, only able to grunt and groan as he starts to move, putting your legs up to his shoulders as to not face any resistance. you cry out at the new angle, absolutely feeling the searing heat of him splitting you apart, but you love it. you move your hips against his, head digging back against the pillow at the newfound pleasure.

it’s so hard for him to go slow, especially as you fuck yourself into him and cry out for more. your body takes him so well, as it was designed to, but he still didn’t expect it to feel and look and sound so good. he can see himself in your stomach, the spikes along his base curling into you and hitting every spot so well. you didn’t even know it was possible to feel this good, his cockhead drilling into your womb so hard it has the corners of your vision turning white. 

he’s growling, unable to repress his animalistic side completely. he leans forward, snapping his hips to yours as your wanton moans fill the room. he lets his tongue lave over your neck, making you gasp out at the feeling. “mate–i need to mark–bite..” he rumbles in your ear, goosebumps rippling over his body when you whine out and nod. 

“please! bite me, got those teeth f’r a reason—” you plead, your small hand guiding his face to the crook of your neck. your eagerness makes his cock twitch, your enjoyment paramount to him just as much as claiming his mate for the first time. he abides by your wishes, sinking his teeth into your flesh and clamping down, feeling you do the same around his dick. you moan out, clawing at his back with your own kind of talons. he can’t stop, driving bruises and bloody spots all along your neck and chest. he’d never go too deep even in his lusty haze, his primal instinct to protect his other half would never allow him to cause permanent harm. he admires his work, “pretty mate, my teeth marks.” 

he grunts out, gripping your hips and roughly turning you over, grabbing a fistful of your hair to yank you into a deep arch. you scream at the new angle, some blood trickling down your neck and pooling between your breasts. he’s entranced by the shape of your body beneath him, how his hands take up your entire waist and the way your ass ripples as he hammers into you. you’re struggling to hold your body up under the force of his thrusts, gripping the covers beneath you for dear life. he reaches around your hip, locating the sweet bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. your hips falter when he presses his touch to your clit, a little sob coming from your lips as you begin to fall apart. 

“pretty. coat my cock.” he grunts, cock jumping again as you nod and fall forward, your pussy spasming around him like crazy. he feels the rush of you, sending him shuddering towards his end too. “g’nna take my heirs.” he groans, slamming your hips back into his as he spills into you for the first time. 

he pulls out quickly to gather you up in his arms, laying on his back with you protected by the expanse of his chest. you’re incoherent as his seed trickles out of you, and as bewitching as the sight is, he wants you to give him several warrior princes and princesses. so he slides his hands between your legs and chuckles as you jerk when you feel his fingers stuffing his cum back inside. you whine, so sensitive but yearning for all of his touches. he grunts a bit, leaning over to smooth your tousled hair and gently kissing the bruises and shallow wounds he gave you. his kindness touches you, and you relax into his body with a grin, knowing he would hold you to his heart’s content and then have the servants run a bath for the new dragon queen.

[bakugoushotwife]

kinktober day thirteen: somnophilia kink

>>> y'all i worked breeding into the plot again officer take me away!! i just love soft and domestic sho, and it also totally feels like something he'd love!!

>>> starring: shouto todoroki x curvy!fem!reader >>> cw: fingering, oral (fem receiving) somno, breeding, reader hates working lmfao, creampie obviously, mating press. >>> wc: 2.6k >>> event masterlist

 shouto loves relaxing. he was sure this was something everyone enjoyed, until he met you. you seemed to stay occupied at all times, delving into hobby after hobby to keep yourself busy. being professional heroes was draining enough, he thought, so why were you indulging in running clubs and extra gym sessions? why did you spend more time learning new recipes and anxiously cleaning the house these days than lounging in bed with him watching tv like you used to? of course, his first assumption is that he has done something to push you away or upset you, as he’s prone to doing. he’s naturally aloof and a bit distant, all things he tries to push past to connect to you, the only person who makes him feel warmth were his coldness usually lies. you know how he is, how he can come off a bit frigid and almost mean without thinking about it, or how he struggles to read your body language and cues—always missing the hints you throw him. you’re used to it by now, far more accommodating than a grown man like him deserves, so he figures this time he needs to get to the bottom of this and make it up to you and prove he can be in tune with your emotions too. 

you had grown restless, but it wasn’t all your husband’s fault. you felt so out of place these days, feeling awkward in your own role in life. you enjoy being a hero some days, other days you can hardly motivate yourself to get out of bed. work had become monotonous and meaningless, the streets of japan were safer than they had been in years past, so most of your days were spent patrolling and training if they weren’t consumed in paper work. you felt stagnant, and things were only complicated further by your conflicting emotions. all your friends from school were retired to spend time with their families or in the process of retiring to go home and take care of their parents or kids—and then there was you. a family would be…perfect, but it was a touchy subject with shouto and you didn’t want to press the matter just because you needed a change in life. so yes, you started tinkering around with hobbies to try and get your mind off of things, knowing you had accepted the possibility of not having children when you agreed to be his misses todoroki. he hadn’t taken the possibility completely off  the table, but you knew he wanted to broach the subject whenever he was ready. so you started using the home gym a little more, picking up books your girlfriends recommended, even working on your cooking skills all in an effort to feel something other than bored.

you didn’t associate your issues with shouto, still acting as normal as possible in other regards other than your drifting away. you really didn’t think he’d notice given the lack of emotional fluency he had, hoping if you could replace the void growing within you that everything would go back to normal and you could be as happy as you were five or ten years ago. but he had noticed, of course. he missed his wife alongside him, but it wasn’t his fault that he had trauma associated with family and was unsure of himself as a father. it certainly wasn’t his fault that when you got married right out of high school you hadn’t cared—knowing that you love him either way. this is still true, of course, but back then you hadn’t imagined  you’d feel this way, this tired of the life you worked so hard for. so ready for the next chapter, especially as ochako welcomes baby midoriya number two and you’re left in charge of the elder brother at the hospital. 

the little boy was only about four or so, absolutely adorable and the image of his father. he was a giggly kid, clinging to his “auntie” with excitement to meet his baby brother or sister. ochako called as soon as she was sure she was in labor, and you dropped everything to go support your closest friend, not that you needed an excuse to leave work early anyway. shouto was still working, of course, as a top five hero he was often kept busy. but that left you to wrangle the toddler on your own. it was way easier than you expected, even with the energetic little boy bouncing all over the waiting room waiting for his dad to come get him. he still conversed with you and ate his lunch like a good boy—though that’s because his parents were so good at raising him, but what would you expect from them? 

all the day proved to you was that you weren’t just making up solutions to your problems, having a family really is what you want. but still, you love your husband more than this want, so you’ll double down on your hobbies until you find something that sticks. 

he reads your texts over and over, waiting on you to get back from the hospital. he had set up a date, truly romantic when he tries to be, and when bakugou answers his calls. following his advice, he had your favorite dinner made and the dining room table was intimately set. ochako had her second baby, and that threw a minor wrench in his plans even lthough he was overjoyed for them, and for you for being their dependable friend in that moment. he sits at the table, all the food keeping warm in the oven as the wax of the candles starts to wane. he had flowers, wine, all the things he knew to try and connect with you and get to the center of your sleepless nights. 

when you walk in, he stands, smiling sheepishly. you smile back, though it doesn’t reach the entirety of your eyes. then you notice he’s guarding the table, and you creep closer. “hey, honey.” 

“welcome home, sweetheart.” he nods, stepping aside to show you the lovely dinner scene just for you. your heart melts a little at his effort, knowing it was always a great show of his love to do something like this, much preferring cuddle sessions and shared showers over grand displays of affection. 

“aw, shou.” you pout, giving him a big hug, “this is so pretty, to what do i owe the pleasure?” you giggle like everything is normal. he hums in thought, slender arms holding your waist as he stews over what to say. 

“you’ve been distant as of late.” he says without a trace of malice or disappointment. his words catch you by surprise–he did notice. he lets you go, pulling out your chair and tilting his head for you to sit. “why?” 

you clear your throat and sit, any charade you wanted to drum up crumbling in your brain. you can’t lie to him, but how could you approach this without feeling like you’re betraying his trust and wishes. you sigh. “i… i’ve just been trying to find new hobbies.” 

“you’re hardly sleeping, and i feel like i never see you anymore.” he frowns, making his way to the oven to retrieve the dinner the chef made. “what is it really, sweetheart? do you feel as if you cannot talk to me? is it something i’ve done?”  

you chew the inside of your lip as he assembles food on your plate. “i don’t enjoy hero life anymore. i’m ready for the next chapter, to feel important for other reasons.” you reply, not wanting to make him at fault for your whirlwind feelings as of late. 

he takes in what you say, smart enough to connect some dots. the picture you sent him of you holding baby midoriya in your arms and big brother proudly sitting on your lap was the happiest you’ve looked in some time. “the next chapter…as in, motherhood?” 

you look up at him, studying his mismatched eyes for a hint of how he feels. you sigh, “i know, i know. i guess that’s why i’ve been a little withdrawn…i feel bad about it, i know what you want.” you chuckle sadly, sipping at the wine provided. “really, i’m trying to get over it, i guess. maybe we could get a dog?” 

now he was disappointed. not in your desires, but that you put his possible feelings above your actual ones without ever speaking to him about it. just like you, he had changed as well. he wasn’t the same unsure eighteen year old he was when you married him, and though he still held trauma from his childhood, he had long accepted the concept of being a father since you were by his side. he could do anything if he was with you. he cuts into the meal and gives you a sympathetic glance. 

“you should have told me. a family…i think i’m ready for that, if you’re saying you’re ready to stay home in that way.” he hums, knowing you wouldn’t put yourself in harm’s way after becoming a mother. you gape at him, replaying his words over in your head. 

“wh–i don’t want you to do it just for me.” you double down, blindsided by his revelation. had you really put yourself through all of this for nothing? 

“i would do anything for you.” he replies instantly, and he meant that with no restrictions. “but i had considered it again around the time izuku welcomed his first.” 

“meaning you were ready four years ago?!” you almost cry out just from the shock alone, and he chuckles softly. 

“not ready to have one then, but i knew i would want some eventually. now is a good time. we’re stable. you made me nervous.” he sips at his wine, eating his food nonchalantly. 

“i made you nervous? i–” you sputter, still grappling with the fact that shouto was more than willing to try for a baby. 

“i thought i messed up, you were drifting from me. i wish i had known all you wanted was a child.” he hums thoughtfully, a full plan coming together in his head to comfort both of you. “and you haven’t been getting enough sleep for weeks, so i’ll make sure you get both tonight.” 

you took that to mean that he’ll fuck you to sleep, another thing he’s prone to do at times. so you shower and meet him in bed, trying to repress your giddiness. you didn’t notice the devious smirk your husband gave you as you sink into his arms. he pulls the blankets over you both, leaning in to give you the routine kisses before bed, and then he turns over like he’s going to sleep. 

you look at the ceiling in the dark with confusion. did he forget or change his mind? 

“you have to go to sleep before i’ll give you that child, sweetheart.” he speaks into the night, making your heart pound with a mix of frustration and intrigue and warmth at how he cares for you, as worked up as you were for him now, you groan and turn over. your brain is quiet as it’s your heart that races for once, and eventually you’re able to drift to sleep. 

he waits a few hours to make sure you’re good and asleep, his whole plan would be ruined if he woke you up. shouto loves you more than anything, and he hadn’t been exaggerating when he said he was worried. you had to be well rested, especially if you hoped to give him a baby after all. so only when he hears your quiet snores and deep breathing does he scoot closer, gently positioning you on your back. you dressed in a little nightgown in anticipation of him anyhow, so it was easy for him to locate your waiting bundle of nerves. he rubs you carefully, drawing small circles over your hood as you squirm the slightest bit beside him. he slides his fingers down to the familiar hole beneath, nodding at the feeling of slick appearing, your sweet body was responding to him. he crawls between your legs and carefully pushes your nightgown up over your chest, completely bewitched at the sight of your nipples perking up and goosebumps covering your perfect body. 

he thinks it’s almost ridiculous to think he wouldn’t want children with you. you’ve been in his life since his ua days and no one knew him like you did. you were someone so clearly meant to be a mother, it would be a crime not to give you the family you deserve. he easily parts your thighs, massaging and kneading the thickness he finds there as he lowers his face to your slick cunt. he’s always so gentle, but no time more than now as he hopes to remedy all your problems in one fell swoop like a good husband should. he laps at your center, angular nose bumping against the sensitive clit nestled above until he can hear your breathing change. he didn’t think he’d like it this much, but knowing that your body responds to him even subconsciously has his dick growing in his pants. you taste just as good as usual, growing wetter against his face with every passing second. he slides his fingers in, needing to know when you came. you spasm around the digits as his mouth focuses your swollen clit, and he knows you won’t take much longer. he may need his time understanding emotions and the like, but he knew your body like he knew his own. a few more flicks of his tongue over your nub and pumps of his fingers tickling your insides has you unraveling, and even in your sleep you look majestic cumming on his face. 

he shoves himself out of his boxers, admiring the way you still jerk when he presses his his fingers to your sensitivity. he draws your thighs around his slender hips, angling his pretty cock to your folds. he nuzzles the length along your folds to coat himself despite the pre oozing from his pink tip, taking a second to enjoy that sight in and of itself. then he sheaths himself, careful not to hiss too loud. you feel amazing, clenching him so tight even in the r.e.m stages of sleep, it’s almost too much for him to process. this was the first attempt at a baby, a family he never imagined himself having until he married and matured with you. it’s intoxicating, really, the way he rocks his way into your waiting pussy, silky walls guiding him in and out without any resistance. he has to bite down on his lip not to grunt and moan at how you feel, promising himself that he’d stay quiet and fill you to the brim. he pushes your legs to your chest, watching your face for any signs of discomfort. you only pant softly as he draws in and out of you, figuring this deep angle would be the best for his seed. 

all you did was follow his orders, getting the rest he demanded in exchange for his cum, even though he really won in the end. getting you to sleep, getting to see your body recognize and beg for him, getting to shove his cock deep and impress himself on your womb was more than a fair trade. a soft grunt slips past his lips as his hips stutter. his balls feel unimaginably heavy and then they don’t, his heavy load being fucked even deeper by the determined man you married. even when his warmth pools around his own dick as it goes soft inside you, he doesn’t quit, rolling his hips until he’s too sensitive to continue. 

he’s the one that doesn’t get any sleep that night, watching you sleep with his seed tucked in you only inspired him to take breaks and keep pumping you full, resigning himself to rest hours later  when he can’t possibly cum anymore.

[bakugoushotwife]

kinktober day eighteen: cockwarming kink

>>> idk why shiggy and cockwarming are like peanut butter and jelly to me...like i only have cravings for him when i'm deep in the caverns of my mental illness but...this is yummy? and i don't think it counts as cockwarming but shut up!!!

>>> starring: tomura shigaraki x curvy!f!reader >>> cw: cockwarming, established relationship, degradation, exhibitionism, fingering (fem receiving), p n v, creampie, implied multiple rounds. >>> wc: 3.1k >>> event masterlist

it was league tradition at this point. not even when the members were scattered to the winds to gather intel and work official villain business did the group miss weekly movie night. some members may or may not be there some weeks, sometimes you were all together, coupled off into platonic and romantic pairings to view whatever your leader picked out. whenever you were there, he let you pick, but it’s been quite some time since you’ve been back home. shigaraki regrets sending you so far out of reach. this assignment had taken you much longer than he would have liked, way longer. correspondence had grown slower, each message shorter than the last. you were tailing hawks to make sure he was trustworthy and it seems it was giving you a great deal of trouble. 

or maybe hawks was loyal to the heroes like shigaraki suspected and had gotten to you with his agenda, turning you into a double agent. well, no, that couldn’t be it. if that were so, you would do a better job of acting normal to keep him off your case. did you need help? no, again, he knows you would just tell him that too, so what was going on with you? were you mad at him? had he done something before you left? 

he thinks back a couple of months—the unbearable length of time you’ve been gone—trying to think of any reason you could be short with him. you didn’t have any big fights, he didn’t forget any anniversaries or special occasions, and he went easier on toga like you asked him to. the only possible thing he can think of is the fact that it was saturday, aka movie night, when you left— and he fell asleep watching the movie you picked—meaning he didn’t get to spend your last night with you or give you any goodbye-and-good-luck dick. he sighs aloud at the realization. you were absolutely petty enough to hold that against him, but he hoped you wouldn’t prolong your mission just to prove a point. 

this is the first time since the league started this little routine that he’s wanted to call it off. the rest of the league missed you too, if not because you were their friend, it was because tomura had grown so intolerable and irritable in your absence that they were begging nightly for your return. when saturday rolled around, and you still weren’t back, they watched their fearless leader sulk around like a kicked puppy all day. each member dreaded the nighttime. shigaraki was prone to throwing tantrums when he saw any of the league members get too friendly with one another in your absence, so it looks like they’ll all have to sit spread out for movie night. 

was he to be held accountable for the things he said and did while busy wallowing in his grief? some may say yes, but he was a strong believer in live and let live—you were certainly his better half. but you’ve been away for close to three months, and your effects are wearing off. he was incredibly snappy as he set the theater room up, the shitty little projector dabi stole was clearly running on its last legs. he was in no mood to pick out a goofy movie, not whenever he was wondering if you were even coming back at this point. he barked at twice to find something to watch—and the man was heavily influenced by toga’s opinions, so suicide squad seemed to be the answer. what a trash pick, he thinks. it’s why he’s in charge, and why only your opinions can influence his own. you would never have allowed suicide squad. 

that’s not the only reason tomura misses you, of course. he misses working on your own missions together, decorating the hideout to make it feel more like a home, the way you’d sit with him as he plays video games in his room, or how you two would cuddle as you’re falling asleep with his glove-clad hands all over you, and of course, your drooling pussy sucking him in over and over again. it’s been nearly three months since he’s gotten to see your face, inhale your familiar scent, or get anywhere close to cumming. he can’t even use his own hand anymore—you’ve spoiled him. he’s always been a shitty sleeper, too, but your body in his grasp was the magical cure—so of course he’s been getting next to no rest without you. he’ll never send you on a mission again. 

when he hears several bustling voices and a relieved “thank whoever put us on this flaming pile of shit” from dabi, he knows you’re home. mr. compress and kurogiri escort you into the movie room, where he waits for you. tomura nearly shouts, either at you for being gone so long or in relief that you’re finally home, he’s not sure. the corner of his mouth slides up in a reserved grin, but everyone can see the light return to his eyes. god forbid a world where you didn’t come back to him. 

“sorry i’m late for movie night everyone! i missed you!” you sing out to greet the room, but you’re only looking at your exhausted boyfriend. though he always carried a certain tired stress, he looked worse than usual, and you know that he hasn’t slept through the night since you’ve been gone. you’re on the love seat next to him immediately, jumping all over him and tightening your arms around his neck. his grin spreads, and kurogiri plays the movie to keep everyone else from having to watch in on your reunion and sickening love fest. 

he slides his arm around your back, humming sleazily in your ear. “finally. took you long enough, babe.” he huffs, taking that deep inhale of your sweet smell and sighing his relaxation quietly. his mood is relieved just by holding your frame and feeling your soft hair tickling his cheek. you giggle and sigh too, and he feels the weight of your body slump into his. 

“don’t i know it, was beginning to think you hated me for sending me out there for so long.” you pout, releasing him from your grip to gain sight of his face. he rolls his eyes at you, shaking his head with a tiny amused grin donning his features. 

“you’ll never leave this hideout again. i missed you.” he pinches some of your hair between his fingers and curls the piece around his digits as he looks over your face, gazing at your soft eyes and gentle lips, full cheeks, and everything else he’s missed for what feels like forever. you hum in intrigue at the ‘threat’ and kiss him. you can’t afford to go too hot and heavy with all your friends in the room, but you wanted your boyfriend to know you missed him just as badly as he missed you. your nights weren’t spent sleeping comfortably and every day you felt more and more lost without tomura’s logic keeping you on task. you nibble at his bottom lip, laving your tongue over him with a little moan. he grins, you’re the extrovert, but he’s not shy about making you noisy in front of the others. you feel him smile against your lips before he pulls away, trailing kisses over your cheek until he can bite the lobe of your ear. you gasp sharply, and he’s tossing a blanket over your hips for modesty’s sake. 

you smirk knowingly, lifting your skirt over your ass as the blanket falls in your lap. “oh so my little slut did miss me..” he whispers, licking over your jawline as he reaches under the blanket. the pads of his first two fingers swipe over you panties, tracing the outlines of your lips with a nasty little grin. he can feel your wetness pooling against the fabric already, your desperation making his cock rise against his sweats. he casts his eyes around to make sure no one’s watching, but he’s trained his league better than that. he slides his hand under your waistband, finding your clit automatically. you feel your stomach flutter in response to his touch, the fabric of his mostly fingerless gloves scratch against the inside of your thigh as he presses his sinewy finger in circles around your bundle. you fall against him, head rolling around on his shoulder within seconds. 

he knew you like he built you himself, and he knew that after a trip away—the both of you were insatiable—but you were all too easy to work up. you would tell him all about the mission later. there would be plenty to catch up on after he gives you all you’ve been missing here lately. tomura would be lying if he said that watching you stifle your noises and wiggle against the cushions didn’t affect him, his dick was crying for you. fingering you in front of the league was one thing, fucking you was another. but his body was growing too hot to bear, and he could tell from the need in your eyes that even having him inside you would relieve some of your ache. that should be fine, they wouldn’t look at you no matter what—they knew better than that, but he still didn’t want them hearing your sweet sounds. that was just for him. but with your hips bucking into his hand, and yours clamping down over your mouth as he shoves you over the edge with his fingers—he knows he’ll need to feel you. 

he’s pulling himself out of his sweatpants before he can argue with himself too long about it. his cock stands straight up in wait, and before you know it, tomura’s hands are on your hips and he’s pulling you into his lap. your brain was still mush, veins coursing with the pleasure of being reunited and under his spell. you were so focused on not making any noises that you didn’t even give your needy boyfriend a look of disapproval. he pretends like you’re the problem as if he would be able to sit here with his hands to himself, but you know the truth. shigaraki is just as helpless as you are, hence his finger curling around your panties and hooking them to the side so he can lower you on his waiting cock. 

he makes you sit all at once, and he clamps his free hand over your mouth before you can react to the stretch. then he snakes his arm around your waist, pulling you back to meet his chest. “keep quiet and sit still.” 

you nod vigorously, though you know you’re agreeing to something impossible. you were crazy with need, his fingers only unlocked the gate of your desire. you hadn’t had this dick in you for too long, and now that the length is fully sheathed in you—you’re ordered to sit still? it burns, your hole needed to be stretched back open to accommodate his sizeable length, long curved shaft angled just right against the spots you needed him most–but it wasn’t enough. you needed movement, you needed to hear him grunt and moan and speak unimaginable filth in your ear. you whine out softly, when the movie was loud enough you thought only tomura would hear.

he can feel you squeezing, and despite his orders, you wiggle in his lap irregardless. he should have known you wouldn’t be able to handle obedience after so much time apart, but it’s nothing he can’t remind you of. truth be told, he’s losing his cool too. he missed your wet cunt gripping him like this—how could he be angry at you for needing him so badly when he’s no better? he couldn’t, really, he could only be amused with your affection for him even if it assuaged every worry he had about you leaving him all that time you were gone. his hands dig into your fatty hips to use them as his own personal stress ball, kneading and squeezing on his whim. he can feel everything, every nerve on his body was acutely aware of every labored breath you took and each pound of his heart. he didn’t know if he could be strong much longer—and he knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your mouth shut. 

“you guys have your own room—why do we have to suffer through this?” dabi huffs out, clearly aware of what was going on in the room. twice clasps his hands by his cheek, disagreeing with his teammate. 

“young love! they just missed each other! at least he isn’t pout—” 

“out.” tomura hisses, cock jumping from knowing you were caught. you just clamp around him in answer, just as shameless as your boyfriend. “don’t speak—get out.” 

the other members gave mixed reactions, some rolled their eyes and huffed their way out the door, the others chuckled knowingly—they would rather deal with this shigaraki than the one that misses you any day of the week. when the door shuts and you two are left alone, a mixture of fabric and skin taps against your jaw. tomura held your face in his grip, fingers dancing along your bone in a teasing way. 

“my slut forgot how to listen, hm?” he asks rhetorically, sliding his grip to your neck. he squeezes with just the right amount of pressure to make you dizzy and open your mouth—though he can’t see your skanky face right now. you’re lucky he was just as needy right now or he was liable to leave his dick in you until it went soft without ever moving—but tonight? tonight he needed to reclaim his slutty little cunt until the sun came up. 

“been so long since i had to take orders.” you huff, maybe you were annoyed with him after all. 

he snickers. “attitude, little slut.” he says with a harsher squeeze to your neck. tomura can’t deny his entertainment–you got your nickname from your neediness, after all. “are you really mad at me?” he asks, and you know he wants a real answer. 

“annoyed—why’d you want me gone?” you huff, and he angles his hips up into you without warning. you gasp sharply at the stab, leaning forward to hold onto his knees. 

“didn’t want you gone, brat.” he sighs, letting off your throat in favor of holding the natural handlebars of your curves as he pushes your back forward to watch his dick plow in and out of you, his grip your only guidance. your moans start immediately, and he can’t help but smirk. “you’re my right hand, you’re the only one i can trust with some shit.” 

you purr at his explanation, bouncing along him on your own accord. he’s massive, filling every gap your pussy had to offer unapologetically. he presses against the entrance of your cervix without any movement at all, much less the animalistic style your boyfriend liked to fuck in, it was brutal. but so so good. it burns and sends shooting yet blissful pain through your body with every stroke, you slip forward a little, growing unable to hold yourself up. he grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you back up without remorse. 

“where you going, slut?” he teased, slamming up into you. it was unfair, he was gifted with such a huge dick he didn’t even need a good angle to absolutely wreck you. he was mesmerized by the sight of your cute little hole puckering around him, swallowing him whole and letting him slide back out. you would squeeze down with every thrust, making him slow down to pull himself out and speedily shove back in. “can’t even take good dick anymore?” 

you mewl out in response, your fingers digging into his thighs as your back arches deeper, only encouraging your boyfriend to speed it all up. it’s like you can feel him in your throat, your entire body being used and abused by the man you missed desperately. shigaraki treats you like his prized treasure any other time, but especially after a trip away—you love being his slut. you moan and through your ass back, making him groan out at the conflicting paces. 

“so nasty. fucking you stupid and look at you—like a bitch in heat.” he chuckles, though it’s all so pornographic to him. no other pussy in the world would feel like yours, your cute clamping and sticky wetness could never be beat. and your insides practically beat into the shape of him, he knows no other dick would have your toes curling as you bounce  and squeal. 

“tomura—” your breathy moan makes his balls hurt. he didn’t care how quickly he came this time. he’ll keep you spread open all night until he’s satisfied with the amount of cum seeping out of the hole made just for him. he wanted you to cum twice as many times as he does, so your sweet moan of his name and your fluttering pussy only tell him to snake his arm around your hips so he can rub your puffy clit again. he loves these gloves you got him, the mesh fabric makes it easier for him to feel everything without fear of quirk activation. he can feel your pulsing need under his fingertips, and he smiles at your sensitivity. you were such a gift to a man like him. 

“what? use your words.” he huffs in disinterest, though you know it’s anything but. your gut lurches, feeling like you stepped on an escalator that was moving too fast. 

“wanna cum, can i please, tomura?” you ask sweetly, calling his name just how he liked and everything. he had every intention of drawing this out—but he supposes he can have that during your next round. 

“do it now.” he orders, gruff voice telling you that there would be no punishment if you didn’t—unless you considered taking him all night a punishment. the sound of him groaning and feeling your body made it easy to follow his orders, your hips still even as his continue their assault. you shake from head to toe, the orgasm so intense after such a long time without cumming on his cock. you squeeze down so hard he sucks in a deep breath, knowing he was going to shoot his load like mount vesuvius. you hum happily, wiggling back on him to milk all the warmth he gave you. he slows his hips to a stop, panting only a little as he pushes you carefully off his lap and onto the love seat. “want to see my slut’s nasty faces this time.” 

he grins as he spreads your legs again, ready to stain the cushions beneath, when someone knocks at the door. twice pounds on the frame again, pouting. 

“can you guys at least pause the movie?” 

[bakugoushotwife]

happy birthday bakugou!! // k. bakugou x fem! reader (selfship tbh)

warnings: very self indulgent, pregnancy, reader is a woman and mother already, bakufamily hehe <3

the tug on the covers is what wakes him. he’s always been a light sleeper, trained for years to detect any threat, even when he’s supposed to be at rest. maybe he’s a little less concerned about the random noises he hears around his house nowadays; primed from years of marriage to the clumsiest woman alive–and fatherhood to the clumsiest children. another tug. though he had hoped to sleep in today of all days. he took a personal day from the agency just to relax, cuddle up to his wife, maybe have a late brunch with the kids. the perfect day of rest for a busy man like him. 

he peeps an eye open to see if you’re laying in your spot. tch, hag. he rolls his closed eyes and decides to turn over; he could probably go back to sleep. another tug. 

“daddy!” bakugou’s little daughter huffs, patience clearly run out by that inherited scowl tugging on her features. complete with a stomp and all, natsuki pulls again. he loves his kids, cherishes being a father, but please. he just wants a minute longer. is that so much to ask on his birthday?

“nats, go get yer ma or come lay down.” he grumbles in the groggy morning voice you love to hear so much. your mini me happily obliges, giggling as she scales her way up onto the bed. she’s only five, and is absolutely her father’s biggest fan. he’s especially soft for his first born, and his precious little princess–hearing her laughter sheds the grump right off of him, heart melting a little as she sneaks under a heavy arm to lay next to him. “where is yer ma anyway?” he pouts, making her poke at the deep frown. 

“shhh, can’ tell you!! i distract.” she nods. oh how she possesses your grace. that makes him snort, and he already knows you have to be scheming something for today’s ‘holiday’, as you would call it. and his son is being held captive to be an accomplice to such a crime. you know he doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it. he hates that kind of attention and would much rather spend his time cuddling with his wife all day than sitting at some restaurant accepting gifts from his friends. he nearly has everything a man could ever ask for, a beautiful wife, healthy and gorgeous children–though he could tack on a few more there–the perfect home, a great and satisfying career…the list goes on. it took years to get to this place of peace. so, he really doesn’t want anything for his birthday this year. other than your ass back in bed of course. 

“oh yeah? she told ya to do that?” he blinks sleepy eyes open, meeting ones of a matching hue staring up at him. she nods. “what’s yer brother doin’?” he knows it’s a trap, but hey. you shoulda sent the kid that can’t make complete sentences yet. 

“helpin’ mama make ‘cakes n bacon!” she reveals proudly, eyes growing wide when she realizes she’s betrayed her mission. she claps a hand over her mouth and huffs at him. “mama tryin’ to be nice.” 

“ain’t she? let’s go help her.” he chuckles a little bit, sliding out of bed with her on his hip. his sweatpants hang low, but he won’t take the time to change right now. his hair is tousled from sleep, but as always he’s effortlessly and ruggedly handsome in a way that will never cease to make you weak in the knees. natsuki holds onto her father’s shoulder as he softly pads down the stairs, ready to foil your surprise. he holds his finger over his lips, nodding at his little girl. she mirrors the action, swearing to be silent. he peeks around the corner, this sight bringing a gentle smile to his face. maturing and loving and having a family had simmered him down a bit, but he never lost his spark. he always knows how to balance it though, and as badly as he wants to jump around the wall and catch you—laugh that you thought you could be so sneaky; he doesn’t. you’re holding your two year old son in a similar way to his carry on natsuki, dancing around the kitchen to keep him from fussing while you plate up his favorite strawberry banana pancakes, a signature you introduced him to. you dollop out whipped cream that katsuo promptly puts his hands into, making you laugh softly and shake your head. you stick some candles into the pancakes and that’s when it really gets him. 

so much care and laborious love poured into this, he can’t rob you of such a simple gift to him. natsuki pats his shoulder, pointing to the living room as you fix up the smudged whipped cream and fix your children’s plates. he sees that you’ve turned it into a massive pillow fortress, blankets and string lights and the tv tucked under it all so you could lounge about all day. the family cat perched comfortably on one of the fluffiest blankets, and blame fatherhood, he feels the sting of emotion behind his eyes. it’s perfect. it’s a gift he wouldn’t have even picked for himself–it nearly makes him laugh. you would find a way to go and do something for him anyway–even when he swears he just wants to lay around the house all day. he says that and you go and give him domestic bliss. 

you walk around the corner with his plate in hand, katsuo in the other, prepared to creep upstairs and wake your sleeping husband up for breakfast in bed. then you’d rouse him to come downstairs to the massive movie theater pillow fort you built. but meh—it seems your plans were mere…outlines. your smile droops, but then replaces itself upon noticing just how shocked and happy katsuki really was. he loathes surprises, and no—you would not drag the man out for birthday dinners or even a private date for you two. he’d much rather cook for you and the kids anyway. you know that. you know him better than you know yourself. but you would be damned if a year went by where you didn’t celebrate him. and yeah–you shoulda sent the kid that can’t make complete sentences yet. 

“this is real nice, princess.” he hums, turning to face you and letting you glimpse at your regretful daughter. 

“sorry mama..” she pouts, making you chuckle softly. there wasn’t much of a chance to get away with this anyway–it’s not her fault. 

“aw, it’s okay baby. now we can just sing happy birthday to daddy in the fort!” you grin, nodding at him to get comfortable inside. he smiles warmly, because that’s all he feels. complete and utter warmth from head to toe. he leans forward and kisses your forehead, taking katsuo out of your arms and taking the kids to nestle comfortably in the pillow seating arrangements you crafted. it is an incredible arrangement by the way. he’s sure it took you hours. he feels that signature tightness in his chest–the overwhelming love he has for you is sometimes a physical phenomenon. katsuo crawls over the pillows to tuck himself into a fluffy corner close to his sister, clapping his hands together in anticipation of the pancakes he saw his mom whipping up earlier. you duck under the entrance sheet and grin brightly—an expression he knows and loves. you’re proud of yourself, and you should be. you drop to your knees, hitting the fluffy couch cushions and fluffy down blankets. you scoot forward on them and then sit back, displaying your beautiful pancake creations. 

you nod to the kids who join you in a beautiful–albeit choppy–rendition of the happy birthday tune, and he beams all the while. his heart may genuinely burst from his chest though.  the greatest gift he ever got was truly his wife–and you’ve given him two more. he leans up to blow out the candles, leaning up yet again to steal a kiss from you before he takes the plate from you entirely. “thank ya, lil squirt. and m’littler squirts.” he ruffles natsuki’s hair, getting into the breakfast as you double back for everything else. the love in his eyes, the intensity that he always carries—it’s a gift in itself to you. you’re gonna watch shitty tv all day with your kids, being lazy and awful as you snack around all day. you call it a taurus’ paradise. of course you sneak your final gift in too, snagging it from the counter. 

he holds his arm out for you, chewing animatedly and nodding to show you his excitement. you lean into his hold and nestle close, putting a show on for your kids. they have limited tv time please don’t even start. “happy birthday, my love.” you hum again, kissing his cheek. 

“you spoil me, gorgeous.” he smiles at you, all soft and tender to give you butterflies. he tucks his hand into the dip of your waist and starts feeding you your food like it’s your birthday. he does that a lot. you think he gets nearly uncomfortable at being spoiled–or at least wants to include you in the feeling he has. it’s adorable either way. 

“you deserve it. you work so hard, you’re such a good dad and husband for me…i want to give you everything.” you chuckle softly, laying your head on his shoulder, hugging around his bicep. 

“woman, look at those kids an’ yerself an’ say that again.” he says, the pinnacle of affection despite his way of speaking. “ya gave me everythin’.” 

“nuh uhhh,” you giggle, digging in your pocket. “not everything. got something else for ya.” you place it in his hands—the only other thing he’d ever want: a positive pregnancy test. “one step closer to—what did you call it? bakugou total world domination?”

he sets his plate to the side and pulls you into his lap, clutching you close, chuckling a bit. “yer kiddin’! he nuzzles his face into your neck and sighs happily. “i love you.” he hums softly, shaking his head, “this gotta be the best birthday ever..” he adds, and he means it wholeheartedly. gone were the days of war and daily sacrifice. every once and a while a villain will get on his nerves for a few days—but he always comes home to his (growing) family. he didn’t even have nightmares anymore, blissfully coasting in a stream of peace he never imagined he’d know. the idea of having a lifetime like this was almost too good to be true if he hadn’t known he’d do anything to protect it.

“but don’t think we won’t celebrate on our own later~” you purr in his ear. sheesh, you keep proving this day gets better and better.

[bakugoushotwife]

kinktober day six: dacryphilia kink

>>> i dunno what it is about dabi that scream dacryphilia to me, i genuinely believe every fic i've done for him involves it lmfao please! big thanks to @keigotakamiz for helping me thru some of the rough patches on this one, i luv u so bad bby!! this one contains dark content so please read the content warnings.

>>> starring: touya todoroki x curvy!fem!reader >>> cw: dacryphilia clearly, power play, age gap of three years, both are adults as always, keigo's little sister!reader, protective big brother keigo, pervy touya, coercion, dubcon, blood (just a tiny bit), size kink, corruption kink, fingering and oral (fem receiving), pierced dabi, degradation, pet names, temperature play. >>> wc: 4k >>> event masterlist

touya has always been obsessive, selfish, and determined to get his hands on whatever he deemed as his. ever since he was a little boy, he had his own cunning ways of getting what he wants; but you keep slipping out of his grasp. he’s been watching and waiting for the perfect time to make his next move on keigo’s adorable and clueless little sister, so sweet and stupid with your sultry little bats of your eyelashes and cute little smiles with no idea of what he’s plotting behind his turquoise stare. 

it’s definitely your fault. you’re far too bright and kind for his liking. touya had to humble you, he had to take a little bit of your light for his own. it’ll be all too easy to make you his. you didn’t have any self-respect, that was clear from the way you walked around your house in skimpy dresses and slutty crop tops that reveal the delicious figure you keep beneath. but he had to be careful. keigo was oh so protective of his baby sister, so every intimidating stare your way had to be calculated. it took months for keigo to even leave the two of you alone with one another long enough for him to use the bathroom. but even in those brief two to three minutes that keigo walks away, touya’s got you blushing from his comments about your outfit. he just can’t help but grow addicted to the flushing of your cheeks and the squeal in your voice when you beg him to stop, you’re just so cute and malleable. he’ll continue to bide his time. just for you. 

the teasing and taunting only got worse from there. you would never tell keigo about it, if only to spare your own embarrassment from the inevitable blush and rubbing of your thighs as you tell your big brother all the naughty things touya whispers in your ear and how he touches you when he’s not around. he seems not to notice all your squirming away from and quiet responses around the white-headed man, chalking it up to your easily flustered nature. no, he doesn’t suspect a thing, not even leaving behind plumes of his fierce wings to spy on you. 

this has to be because touya is so good at throwing him off. he dotes on you just like keigo does, patting your head so sweetly and letting you borrow his coat when you’re cold. so, to your surprise or horror, keigo trusts his morally questionable friend to keep his quirkless baby sister safe during every meeting with the hpsc or his dates with his new girlfriend. so now touya gets to corner you on the couch and tug at the the flimsy fabric clinging to your plush chest—that despite his unrelenting jests, you still wear—only telling the deranged man that you enjoyed his attention. but to be fair, you’re not sure that he’s wrong. 

“you cold, dollface?” he coos, icy breath fanning against your neck as he leans in closer to get a better view of your hardening nipples. you’re precious, so easy to file up. “or do ya just like it when i get this close?”

you squirm, but there’s nowhere for you to go. one of your hips already bumps up against the arm of the couch and his fingertips practically sear into the flesh of the other one. there was something undeniably alluring about touya, he was scary and dangerous—and he looked the part too—but he is keigo’s best friend, so he couldn’t be too bad, right? and you knew your big brother would be disappointed in you, even if you could admit it to yourself that touya’s teasing wasn’t all that bad, no matter how naked it made you feel. what does it say about you that you enjoy it? his mocking laughter and hand grabbing your jaw brings you back to the situation at hand. 

“hm? it’s rude not to answer your elders, brat.” he clicks his tongue, admiring the way your eyes widen and cheeks darken a few shades. keigo and touya were only three years older than you, but the latter enjoyed making that feel like decades when it came to respect from you.  

“i’m–cold, yes.” you reply in a barely audible squeak, not able to meet his gaze despite the harsh grip he has on your face. he pouts at your response, of course it’s a sadistic mock of your shyness. he leans back and removes his coat, sighing at the loss of warmth before tossing it over you like a throw blanket. he has an interesting scent, the musk of smoke and ash combined with something more woodsy, like maple or pine. you inadvertently snuggle into the fabric, cutting your eyes over to him remaining in his thin white shirt, where his own hardened nipples peek through. he catches your gaze on him, tossing his head back with laughter at the idea of you checking him out. 

“like what you see, doll?” he arches his brow, letting his greedy hands feel your squishy thighs, a treat for his frazzling patience. he hears the sharp intake of breath, and you keep squirming away like you want him to stop, but touya sees the truth in your face, the way your sweet little eyes ask for more while you bite down on your lip–you’re confirming everything he needs to know. 

“keigo–” he places a rough finger over your lips to keep you from furthering the sentence. you sink further into the couch, his predatory smile making you feel like shrinking into nothing. 

“-won’t be back for a while, he’s with his new girlfriend.” he hums cheerfully, as if it was the best news in the world. to him, it was. keigo’s new girlfriend might just be touya’s favorite person alive right after you, keeping the man busy enough that he was no longer concerned with his little sister’s schedule, no longer watching her so closely that claiming her for himself was impossible. nah, this new chick gave touya the window he needs. “don’t worry a hair on your pretty little head. he trusts me, you should too, right?”

he’s petting the top of your head to soothe you, sending you mixed signals. you weren’t sure what he was trying to do: was he making a move on you or was he going to continue babying you like your brother does? you suppose he has a point, your big brother loves you more than anything, and not even love could blind him into leaving you with a bad person, right?

you nod. his smile grows. and he toys with you like that for a few more hours, leaning too close, touching your thighs and hips to watch you wiggle, fanning his minty breath over your face. he even taunts you about your clothes again, pulling his coat off you and scrunching his nose in the enjoyment that follows from watching you pout at the loss of warmth. he knows he has time, keigo planned to make a move on his woman, even told him not to wait up for him and everything. 

“your brother think you’re a virgin?” he asks, watching the goosebumps spring up along your skin, your clothes doing nothing to keep you warm or protected from his view. he thinks it’s naive of keigo to think another man hasn’t seen you for what you are, a little slut waiting to be used. “sure he thinks you are…but lookin’ at the way you dress, i bet you ain’t.” 

you shake your head violently, sitting against the arm of the couch, facing him. “i am! swear it touya, really!” 

he chuffs at your exclaimations, wondering if you could be telling the truth. he clicks his tongue, deciding to push you a bit to see. you just look so cute all panicked and pleading. “i think i should check! seein’ i’m his best friend and all, it’s only fair.” his grin is wicked now as his hands land on your knees, forcibly spreading them. you squeal a little, your hands reaching out to push him away, albeit a feeble attempt. 

he laughs again, truly amused by the way you pretend to fight him, but it only makes the blood rush towards his cock faster. “what? Not the virgin you swear to be, takami-chan?” he taunts, pinning your arms to your sides. you shake your head. 

“no–no, i am! i–” you cry at him, the commandingly tight and tingling grip he has on your wrists making you realize just what he was capable of. he was far stronger than he looked, and fighting would get you nowhere. his touch causes a new sensation, a fluttering deep in your stomach that makes you wonder why you fight him at all. 

“then quit your squirmin’ and let me see f’r myself.” he huffs, incinerating the tiny pajama bottoms you had the nerve to put on. your hips lift up off the couch as you try to shift away from him yet again, cold air blowing against that flame flickering in your pussy. he growls as you keep trying to escape even though your body so clearly wants him. he can see the way your nipples harden under your shirt again, so he’s reaching up to burn that away too. he has delicate control over his quirk after all his practice, and he knows exactly how to maneuver his flames to not hurt you. you still squall and scream at the sight of the blue embers turning your favorite crop top into nothing but black ash as if he could even afford to hurt you. he was sure his treatment would keep you quiet about this anyway, but he certainly couldn’t leave any visible evidence of his playtime with you, so he would settle for claiming your cunt until you had no choice but to grow the next generation of todoroki in your womb—and watch you have fun explaining that to your precious older brother. 

he almost thinks you’re stupid for not realizing it, that he’d never seriously hurt you, but the way tears gather at the corners of your eyes, glossy and threatening to spill over has him considering that fear might make you easier to deal with. and it sure would be nice to see you cry. 

“aw, i forget you’re just a quirkless little thing. might wanna listen to me then, yeah? i promise i’ll make ya feel real nice.” his voice nearly sings as he watches fat tears start to roll down your cheeks in embarrassment. you can’t hide your tits and pussy from him, not even as hard as you try to hold your arms around the areas. “let me make you feel good, pretty. been wanting to for so long…” 

he pries your legs apart again, getting into the floor to give himself room. when he lands on his knees, he slides his grip to your thighs, rotating the way you sit. your back rests against the cushions now, like how a normal person would sit on the couch, other than the fact that your legs dangle off touya todoroki’s shoulders and he’s leaning between your legs, smiling up at you like the cheshire cat. he takes a sinewy finger to separate your lips, humming as he moves through you with little resistance, you’re already wet, way wetter than someone crying and squirming should be. he chuckles when your body jolts a bit from the warm pressure he applies. 

“looks like you’re a little slut to me.”  he hums, circling the wetness around your hole. his fingers feel so interesting slipping inside you, so different from the little ones of your own. you were telling him the truth, you were untouched—by anyone else, of course. you squeeze down on his digit as he slides it in, the tight grip has him biting his lip immediately. of course you’re a virgin, that much is clear just from the way you act, even clearer from the way keigo acts. no way he’s let any dude near you—and for good reason, look what happens the first time he leaves you alone…

he can hardly even move his fingers from the way you squeeze, and he knows just how to loosen you up. he leans in to suck your hard clit in his mouth, not hesitating to run his teeth across the nerve-riddled bud. the feeling is so electric and delicious, you have no control over your hips as they push into his face; your walls finally relaxe enough for him to pump his finger through. he leans back to watch your face now that his finger is searching for your mushy spot, curling and stroking your insides. your nose is scrunched in pleasure, eyes closed and mouth dropped open. he snickers. if you were this fucked out from one finger he couldn’t wait to see how you would handle his cock. 

“yeahhh, you’re definitely a little whore. how’s keigo gonna take this?” he pouts, adding his second digit as he sees your eyes snap open to protest. they drag against you so deliciously, all the worry and guilt melts in your mind. his smell becomes overwhelming, his warmth is consuming. maybe you are a little whore, but maybe that’s fine if you get to be his. you are apart of the decision this time when your hips rock against his fingers, and he grins at your acceptance. it excuses him of any wrongdoings, any villainous behavior. you’re basically asking for what comes next. if everything goes to plan, he’ll have plenty of time to give you the full treatment of that a brat like you deserves, but for now he has to see the face you make when that untainted pussy stretches around his cock. 

“feel good?” he asks, to which you babble and nod. it did, he fills you up way better than your own fingers, only barely curling into your pleasure spot with every thrust of his digits, a little squelching noise paired with your breathy whispers make that very last thread of rationality snap. touya can’t hold himself back anymore. he stands up and takes your legs with him, pushing your knees to your ears. you gasp at the change, looking up at him with those beautiful bleary eyes. he mocks your pout, laying his cock over your pussy and up your stomach, nose crinkling at how cute your belly folds like this, how scared you look when you glance down and see his pierced length laying over your belly button. he’s massive and veiny, the tip almost purple with need. you can’t begin to imagine how all of that was going to fit inside you. like he was reading your mind, touya’s voice cuts through your thoughts. “it’ll fit. gonna hurt for a second, but then you’ll feel real good.” 

your anxious eyes flutter back down to his length, tears forming at the idea of that sharp metal along his shaft tearing through you. he grasps your jaw in one big hand again. 

“what’s a matter, babe? i thought you were a cockhungry slut?” he taunts, shaking his head at you. he can see the panic on your features while you look at his length. it’s adorable, the way your chin wobbles and your hips continue to squirm.

“not gonna fit, touy.” you sniffle and shake your head, letting your eyes drift back to the fiery blue ones towering over you. they flicker with amusement. “i don–don’ think i can do it.” 

“you’ll do it, and you’ll love it, and this’ll be our little secret, mkay?” he enthuses, sliding his hips along your soaked pussy. just his fingers had you dripping, and he thought it may not feel so bad for you after all–but the cruel voice inside him hopes it does. he makes you nod with his hand, but arches his brow. he wants to hear you say it. 

“our secret, i promise…” you nod, and he rewards you by patting your cheek with some amount of touya tenderness. 

“and…?”

“and i’ll take you…and i’ll–l-l–” he starts prodding his tip into your tight opening, biting his teeth to quell the moan that bubbles up at the way you clamp and he can hardly even get himself in there. he just knows it’s reflex, your face scrunched up in pain, tears sliding out of your eyes just at the first quarter of his cock. it’s too good, he has no choice but to sink the rest of the way in, eyes glowing at the way you paw and scratch at him, crying out loud and shaking your head at the feeling of being split wide open. it’s white hot and searing, feels foreign and like a huge rod sticking through your body, though that’s not too far off from the truth. he doesn’t give you much time to adjust, brutally shoving himself in and out of your buttery walls, your grip still choking. you wail and scream, clawing at the skin on his shoulders as your eyes fly open in shock. it hurts, it burns, it’s like that piercing was shoving your internal organs aside just to make more room. the tears trickling down your cheeks are almost as hot as the branding feeling in your gut, and he eats it all up.

“whatcha cryin’ for, doll? fits in you jus’ fine, told ya.” he grunts, every thought that crossed his mind about you so so justified. he knew keigo’s little sister would have the best fuckin’ pussy hiding under those tight pajama shorts and slutty miniskirts. he knew your body would take him like no one else, and he just knew you would look your prettiest crying over him. 

you sniffle, blinking through your cloudy vision to gaze up at the man plowing into you, his mouth was stretched into an almost evil giddy grin, the look in his eyes reminded you of the blue flames that licked up your skin earlier, making you shiver with something not even close to fear. the pain gives way to pleasure, or maybe you just start to enjoy the way he drives into you. it’s all so good; the bony smacks of his pelvis against the back of your thighs, and how he drapes his fingers over your clit to keep your hips jolting into his, his wild gaze flickering from your bouncing tits and the fat droplets rolling down your stained cheeks. he notices how your face melts into one of pleasure, causing him to snicker and lean in, that icy breath across your wet face. then it’s replaced by his wet tongue licking up the streaks with a loud moan that makes you tighten around him. 

of course your tears are salty, but they are oh so sweet to him. it’s way better than anything even his perverse imagination had provided him, you’ve got him completely sucked in, your hands now squeezing at his biceps, your little voice chanting out. he’s absolutely destroying you, and you’re loving it. even as his tongue drags up your face and over your lips, even when his kisses were rough and sloppy, you mewled at the feeling of it. you ran your hands along his face to plead for more of his mouth. his rutting is merciless, even coupled with the slight softness he shows in kissing you. his hands leave the backs of your thighs to slide under your ass, pulling your back down the couch to put you against the cushion instead of the correct posture you held previously, even with your legs by your ears. 

it lets him abuse your walls impossibly deeper, the sounds of his balls clapping into your ass alongside your wails had him twitching near the edge. he was so glad keigo was busy tonight, because you were going to be out of it for a while. his cock jumps again as you squeal and tighten, cumming all over him without any warning. he didn’t even know if you knew what you were experiencing to even tell him about it, and just that thought delights him again. tears pool in your pretty doe eyes once again. he grins, lifting your hips into his cock at a rate that will have him tired, but it’s worth it to hear those sounds, the way you moan his name and squeal while you blink your gorgeous tears away. 

“knew you was a slut the whole time, what did i say?” he grunts, trying to regain some composure against your magical cunt. to his surprise, you nod, and he thinks you must be so gone that he could do whatever he wanted to you—not that he couldn’t already. 

“mhm, your slut! jus’ for you though touya—never lied!” you squeal, feeling the tightening in your gut rapidly approaching again, this angle was far too intense, you couldn’t help it. so what you liked getting folded in half by your big brother’s best friend? if that makes you a whore, then you’d own it. 

your reply is so perfect he could shed tears of his own. you’re perfect, he just knew you were made to be his little toy. a girl like you had to be defiled by a guy like him, it was only right. and maybe this was his own kind of payback, the universe apologizing for the shitty life he’s had with a gorgeous teary-eyed doll wrapped around him like molded clay. 

“goddamn darlin’, you’re so fuckin’ sexy, wanna shoot my load in ya. you want that, yeah?” he groans, his lips quivering in a smirk at the sight of your vigorous nodding. who cares if you’re fucked out of your skull, he’s angry he can’t leave you bruised and branded beyond his cum oozing out of your newly ruined pussy. 

“yes! please, touy, it feels so good—wan’ more!” your legs are jelly, they’d be flopping all over the place if they didn’t rest on either one of his shoulders. well, who is he to deny a lady? with one more punishing slam, you feel the veins that endow him throb before the heat fuzzies your senses. he tastes that familiar tinge of iron, knowing he’s bit his lip so hard while emptying his balls that it’s started to bleed. his tongue soothes over it as he moves his hips a few more times, gentler, but still shoving his deposit deeper and deeper, intent to make sure you keep some of it. his heart was pounding in his ears, chest heaving as he tried to get everything under control. he smirks, leaning back over you to reward your performance with another harsh kiss, his hand smooshing your cheeks together to make you pucker. he laughs at you little tired whimpers, standing back up with a sigh. he had every intention of taking good care of you, wanting to take you to the shower and take you again in there, but help clean you up. you had to be presentable for keigo’s return, after all. he would even risk staying in your room, maybe sitting with you until you fell asleep, reminding you one last time that you this stayed between the two of you. 

the sharp scarlet feather aimed at his throat tells him he doesn’t have to worry about getting caught later. he feels several more sharp edges against his back, and then keigo comes into view. you’re shrieking and lunging for touya’s coat, shaking your head at your brother. you knew he would be disappointed but you definitely didn’t expect your elder to hurt him. 

touya chuckles deeply, pouting at his friend. “aw, keigs! better me th’n anyone else, yeah? and she just loved it, ask her!” he juts his chin out towards you, not missing the murderous intent in his friend’s glare. keigo’s eyes flicker over to you, and he makes sure to keep his eyes on your face. 

“am i killing him or just mild torture?” he asks you, raising a brow. 

“d-don’t hurt him, i..wanted to!” you defend, starting to tear up at all the drama, at the prospect of your brother hurting the man that just rocked your world. and damn if you didn’t look so adorable, all pouty and teary, pleading for touya to be spared. he giggles as his cock starts to harden again at the sight of your bleary eyes, his hand flying up to hold the ache. now that keigo was here, nothing would get past him. his eyes narrow at his friend and he points to his room. 

“go sit. we need to talk.” you could almost see flames of his own surrounding him as he spits out the threat, but  touya still winks at you and slinks off to endure his punishment.

[bakugoushotwife]

kinktober day twenty-one: impact play kink

>>> this right here is my girl dinner. i need him so so so so so so so so so so so so bad like PLEASE bakugou when you see this baby come home the kids miss you 😢

>>> starring: katsuki bakugou x curvy!f!reader >>>cw: fwb to lovers, impact play through spankings, choking, holding your head down, multiple rounds, breeding, one pregnancy comment, jealous katsuki, degradation, praise. >>>wc: 3k >>> event masterlist

you were the most annoying person he’s ever met, and that’s saying something. he would willingly dethrone even himself to crown you the biggest bitch in the entire world. maybe it was because you were a foreign exchange pro-hero sent to mingle and visit for relations between japan and your home country—though you’ve far overstayed your welcome. maybe it was because your quirk seemed to give you some air of importance like you were just as good if not better than everyone else, but either way, you were intolerable—at least he tried to pretend you were.

everyone else was eating you up though, as always. kirishima was dumb enough to follow you around with heart eyes, shouto knew how to play it cool enough—but bakugou knew he was vying for your attention. even shinsou and monoma gathered around to gawk at the way your hero uniform clings to your body like a second skin. they should all be embarrassed. you’re assigned to work at his agency anyway—there was no point in sweet talking you. you belong to him. at least, at work—and he hated it.

it was a special layer of hell to have you at his side. you were bossy, bubbly, and absolutely brilliant. your body was irritatingly perfect. his suit was tight too, you know, and raging boners as he carts around his guest was hardly his ideal patrol. you’re unafraid of getting your hands dirty and you’re even less afraid of him—which he lov—enjoys very much. you match his mouth and have never once backed down, which is probably why he’s so perplexed and fascinated and for the lack of better word—or maybe just the right one—obsessed with you.

you’re smart enough to know it, too. you smile extra big when you bring him breakfast every morning and you perch at the edge of his desk just to hear him grumble at you. you let him kiss you and feel your body, but you don’t let him call you his. you aggravate him on purpose, enjoying the way his eye twitches and his nose scrunches before he starts tearing you a new one. you know very well the effect you have on katsuki bakugou, so why do you toy with him like this instead of just ending his suffering?? why do you let your fan club follow you around in his agency when you could be sitting in his lap making out with him in between mountains of paperwork like usual—but no, you’re being way too flirty with kirishima for his liking.

all well and good, they know better than to touch you—at least he thought they did. but clearly monoma has no idea what lengths bakugou will go to to prove that despite your airy behavior—you’re his and his alone.

as soon as he sees monoma’s arm wrap around your waist, he’s standing in front of you, arms folded over his broad chest and arched eyebrow nearly lost between the spiky tufts of ash blonde hanging over his forehead. he’s waiting for you to denounce the behavior—not because he needs you to, but because he wants to see just how far your brattiness goes. you smile at him with those heart eyes, but ultimately choose to say, “hi dynamight. did you need something?”

oh goddamn, he’s fuming. apparently your brattiness knows no bounds. he can feel the steam pouring out of his ears as he grabs onto your wrist, nodding. “yeah—need my bratty little skank in my office right now.”

“ooh somebody’s madddd.” you giggle, though the other heroes seem surprised that he spoke to you that way. all it does is make your pussy tingle—you’re truly shameless and just as annoying as he claims you are. “don’t worry boys, it’s a loving pet name, i promise.”

he doesn’t let you explain further, deciding he isn’t going to chance you misbehaving. he lifts you up with ease, slinging you over his shoulder like a sack of laundry. the gesture gives you butterflies—by no means are you petite, yet he throws you around like you weigh next to nothing.

you dangle over his back, waving goodbye to all the hopeful toys you’ve used as a means to this end—to drive him so crazy he just has to claim you in front of everyone. and thank god this worked.

see katsuki may act like you’re the problem, but he’s no saint. he has women bowing at his feet now that he’s a six foot four two hundred and fifty pound top of the leaderboards pro-hero—not that he gives them the time of day. the problem is, he wants to be private, or in other words, a secret. you’re not down with that. the paparazzi follow you regardless, what difference does it make if the world knows? it only gives you the right to crush those rude bitches that went to school with bakugou that try to sing their praises now. fans are fans—you hate the other sidekicks and heroes and friends that eye him right in front of you—all because no one knows that you’re a thing.

so if that’s how he wanted to play, you’d make sure you won.

though winning is subjective, and bakugou clearly thinks he’s coming out on top. he stomps to the elevators with you hanging off of him like an accessory, but his anger still bubbles over his face. he grimaces at his peers, his firm grip on your ass should be enough to send a message but he won’t be done there. no, he won’t stop until your screaming is bouncing off every wall of his agency or until he has to pay fines for noise violations and workplace harassment. he won’t stop until you’re broken of your behavior.

the elevator doors aren’t open all the way before he’s sliding out of them, grumbling about your behavior.

“are ya fuckin’ dumb, princess?” he shakes his head, palming your ass. “wh’kinda man ya think i am? just gonna let my bitch flirt with some fuckin’ extras in front of my face? you must not know me very well.”

“big talk, hot shot.” you huff, your voice vibrating a little with each heavy step he took towards his office. you repress your giddiness. “finally change your mind? you want people to know i’m yours now, huh?”

you’re clever. he’ll have to give you that. in his rage, he hadn’t noticed that he all but confirmed those workplace rumors—that this will leak to tmz in a few hours anyway and all his moping and sneaking and stewing over you was pointless. because in the end he is a beast of nature, and can’t handle anyone having even a fraction of what’s his. this is as close as they’ll ever get, he thinks to himself as he shoves you over his desk—not patient enough to fiddle with the zipper of your hero costume. he is a strong enough man to pull it apart though, shredding it to pieces and grunting in approval of your nakedness before him.

“yeah smartass, i changed my mind. gonna make sure everyone knows yer mine.” he groans, so many ideas of how to get you wailing and declaring your love for him rush to his mind. you’re biting your lip already, hoping he has you bent over like this for a reason. you hear his gauntlets clank together on the ground, and you wiggle your behind in the air excitedly.

“don’t threaten me with a good time, daddy..” you giggle, throwing that out to help your case. he knows you’re still bratty, not nearly worn down enough to be his babbling baby girl just yet. he smirks anyways, clever all on his own. his eyes focus on those perfect globes of your ass jiggling before him. you love his hands on you, warmed with his quirk with just enough spark and pressure to turn you to mush in just a few minutes. coincidentally enough he loves turning your ass into a custom painting of his own doing—and you get so noisy when he spanks you, that it’s clearly the best option.

“i’m not threatening, skank.” he pops your ass once, just a touch of warmth to your skin. you jolt forward, humming at the pleasant buzz. “tryin’ to get me all worked up in front of my friends?”

“oh they’re your friends now? i thought they were just extras.” you taunt, stretching your arms out in front of you to lay your face against the cool wood of his desk. his hand grows warmer and a little harder as it hits your ass in the same spot as before, a matching one falling to your other cheek within a second. it makes you squeal out a bit in glee, the sting was addictive.

“both, depending on how i feel—mouthy brat.” he huffs, though he is admittedly amused. he relishes your sweet little moans as he smacks your skin in rapid succession, his hands steadying their heat with each collision. as he smacks harder, your skin broken and bruised in the shape of his hand—you still moan in pleasure, getting louder the harsher he got. “this is all my little whore wanted hah? not’ta be able to sid’down all day?” he chuffs happily, giving you three more harsh smacks in a row, all to the same spot. you’re whining at the top of your lungs, making him smile successfully.

“mhm! yes daddy—jus’ wanted your attention~” you purr, his ownership of you bouncing off the walls and hopefully echoing downstairs to those shitty betas who put their hands all over you—kirishima would be dealt with separately.

his hands are so hot and blistering, the force enough to physically ripple your fat cheeks. it makes tears spring to your eyes and you shake your head in submission, throwing in the towel as your skin welts up before his lidded eyes. he slides warm fingers between your legs, swiping at your cunt. he cackles at the slick dribbling down his fingers when he pulls away.

“soaked. geezus, just from fuckin’ whoopin’ ya.” he licks his teeth, thinking of all the ways he could take you against his desk, but decides to start with a little reprieve for you. his suit is peeled back effortlessly, curved hard on gathering all the slick that littered your thighs and dripped from your pretty hole. “ain’t even gotta finger ya open, bet my greedy princess has been plannin’ this all day, hah?”

you can’t restrain your confirming giggle, your head already in the clouds just from his handling. it was moderately embarrassing how easy it was for him to work you up, but he supposed that was some sort of payback for how easily you consume his every waking thought—and some of the sleeping ones too.

he chuckles, kicking your legs a little wider so he can take you just like this. you gasp in excitement, smiling greedily as his tip catches on your clit before dipping to your entrance and back again. he played your game, so you could play his and beg like he wants you to.

“stop teasin’ me daddy.” you pout, tossing him that soft stare over your shoulder—the very same one that makes his heart stop each and every time. it will never get old, clearly. “please…been wet for you all day.” you bat your lashes.

fuck, you’re getting it. he puts his hand on the back of your neck and pushes your face to the desk, slipping his girth in your puckering hole without any ceremony. his other hand wraps under your hip to keep you from collapsing as you squeeze down and adjust to him like it’s the first time you’ve ever experienced his length splitting you open. you gasp for breath, straight hot fire melting into a tingling warmth requiring all your concentration.

“oh what’s a matter brat? goin’ quiet on me.” he grins his satisfaction, drilling into you without remorse. you feel him bumping against your womb, tearing at that entrance that he shouldn’t have access to. it hurts, he’s drilling you into jelly and you can only grab at the desk in a vain effort to ground yourself.

on command, your voice returns to you. you cry out your pained pleasure, nails scraping at the desk as every drag of his cockhead against your cervix had you tearing up. you can’t form words, and he doesn’t care. it’s too delicious—you’re too fucking tight for him to control himself, there’s just no way he could hold himself back when you’re so loud and absolutely drenched just to make all this easier on him. he angles one of your legs up on the desk, turning his curved shaft towards your spongy relief. your moans are even sweeter, heat flooding every sense in a mixture of something natural and something influenced by your lover’s quirk.

“yes! yesyesyes ohmygod yes daddy!” you scream, your throat ached from the sheer power behind it, your pretty little pussy kept fluttering around him as it stretches to fit him.

“better not cum. yer gonna hold it.” he commands, smacking some of that tender skin from earlier. you nearly fold at the impact, you whimper at the outrageous demand, shaking your head quickly to tell him you couldn’t possibly hold this back—the way he abuses your cunt was too intense to control your response. “if you cum—“

you can’t listen. it was all his fault anyway—fucking you like that and expecting you to be able to do anything but cream all over him.

“dumb brat.” he sighs, eyes fixated on your drooling hole leaving a pretty white ring of your essence along his shaft and coating his dark pubes. he shoves some of the extra shit off his desk, shoving you all the way on it once it’s barren. he puts you on your back like you’re a doll to position—holding your legs straight in his massive hands. you wince when your ass contacts the cold wood, “ya coulda got off easy—you just keep makin’ it hard on yerself.”

you mewl as he pins your hips to the surface below, his palms splayed across your abdomen—making every poke of his rod feel that much more intense. you grip his forearms; you were nearly crying already—then katsuki moves his hand to your clit, using the heel of his palm to send you into overstimulated jerks. “now you better learn to fuckin’ listen ‘r i’m cummin’ in that trashcan beside ya.” he snorts.

you cry out at the threat, nodding your understanding. what an evil thing to say—he knows you feel that much more complete after getting his load—like he’s giving you all his love and trust without him having to say a thing at all. you can’t let him take away your favorite part, so you clench your thighs and try to think about anything other than the beautiful ridges of his cock sliding in you like you’re nothing but a sleeve for him to use. you try, but his raspy grunts and groans in your ear keep you wailing and clawing at him desperately.

“can’t hold it daddy—too good! too much, pleasepleaseplease~” you cry, eyes screwed shut tight in pleasure as your body bounces around him with every devious pump of his cock. you feel so good to him, every clamp of your walls has him wondering how he hadn’t busted all up in your shit anyway.

“fine. now.” he orders, feeling the rush of your release and his control over you all in the same moment. it’s exhilarating, and you’re so picture perfect that he’s filling you up seconds later, his threat earlier as empty as they come. this was his pussy, and he would fuck it stupid and full and then send you back downstairs to your stupid fan club.

he stays hard, fucking into you relentlessly. hearing your sopping wet cunt squelch from being so full of his load combined with your elicit high pitched moans kept him thrusting like he hadn’t just reached one end.

“think you were getting off that easy, my little skank princess?” he mocks, dragging your limp body to the edge of the desk to give him full control of your hips. “i wanna hear how loud you can go. gonna fill this greedy little cunt up again.”

you nod, feeling his length shove everything deeper—cum so far down you’re sure you’re pregnant already. you wail your sensitivity, a mess of babbles and broken sobs. even as spent as you are, your gorgeous face twisted with satisfaction and your lips still called for him so perfectly. his hand finds it’s way to your throat, curses rolling past his own curved lips at the sputtering breaths you take as your moans turn to squeals. it doesn’t take much more than that, his second spurt just as heavy as his first. he uses his grip on your hips to hold you still, your legs a shaking mess as you went numb a while ago. he stills in you, chest heaving from all his hard work, but he watches you with a satisfied grin.

“gotta set a clothes you can wear. can’t clean up that pussy though—gotta show that off before we go home for round three.” he grunts, kissing your jawline roughly—saving your lips for last. he’s tender here, holding your face in his hands like he’s holding a delicate flower. “want them to see ya all fucked out. ‘s the only way they ever will. ‘m feelin’ generous.”

you struggle for your breath, rolling your eyes at him. you don’t mind the notion—you don’t care if pictures show up in the magazines the next day. all you care about is being his—and winning. though, it’s plenty safe to say you did

[bakugoushotwife]

Bad Liar // katsuki bakugou

a/n: i got soooo carried away with this one lmfao no regrets though, i love bakubaby so bad and this is so self-ship coded no apologies :D this is probably my last piece before kinktober! i know i know boo hiss im sorry, im sorry, i'll probably still pepper in drabbles and headcanons just because :0

cw: suggestive, 16+ to read. bakugo is agressive as always, he has his own language lmao, possessiveness? friends to lovers, hiding it from the bakusquad!

wc: 2.9k

He can’t stand it. It was his stupid idea in the first place, but still, he finds himself knee deep in regret instead of ocean-water. And his friends make everything worse. Oh his stupid, stupid friends and their stupid gatherings and hang out sessions, just irritating him beyond belief. You weren’t included in this tirade, no. Never. You’ve never had a stupid idea in your life, other than agreeing to be his woman, he thinks now. 

Denki and Mina would want to go to the beach. That’s so perfectly, stupidly, them. It’s the hottest day of the year, and Katsuki is miserable in so many ways it’s almost comical. Certainly he would laugh if it was happening to anyone but him. He’s already prone to hyperhidrosis due to his quirk nature, and the weather certainly wasn’t helping the matter. He looks like he’s been greased in baby oil or something slimy straight out of the sea. You on the other hand, look—he can’t look. You’ve been friends since your first year at UA, or as close to friends as one really can get with the explosive blond. You seemed not to mind his bristly nature, even when he got a little loud, you never flinched away from him or went out of your way to push his buttons like everyone else. 

You were different. You invited him to read your favorite books and mangas with you, you introduced him to new video games and even offered to train together, something that anyone outside of Izuku ran away from. You were unafraid, he realized. He knows he makes it hard. He’s hateful and unforgiving, loud and brash. None of those are good qualities, he’s well aware, but you made him feel like they were. You laughed at his rude comments, only shaking your head or rolling your eyes playfully to disagree. When he got loud, you got louder, a tactic his mom first employed and something he hadn’t realized worked on him so well. No, you made those qualities feel endearing. It wasn’t long before he was inviting you to tag along with him too, teaching you how to make different dishes and even trying your hand at baking while he’s crouched over recipe books spouting the ingredients at you. He wants you to study with him, even if he hasn’t allowed anyone from the inner circle to join him willingly. He always invites you, and he never hides his casual requests for you to come back to his dorm for movies or the newest episode of your favorite anime. He’s completely smitten, clearly. 

To everyone, really. It was obvious, even to you. Katsuki is nothing if not prideful, so you were certainly not going to burst his bubble, or allow any of the bakusquad to do so either. You knew he would work through his emotions and thoughts on his own, and he would come to you when he’s ready. 

And yes, that took well into your adulthood. School was filled with tragedy after tragedy, you were happy to make it out of there with Katsuki, your friends, and your ability to become a hero still intact. The two of you worked for the same agency for the next couple of years straight out of high school, and that’s what helped him really understand just how different you are. You’re strong, the strongest woman he’s ever seen if he’s honest. Your abilities are insane, your motivation is inspiring, and your knowledge and instinct are only paralleled by his own. Perfect. You’re smart, beautiful, powerful, and so unique. He couldn’t stand it anymore, just watching from the sidelines as he tried to figure out why he was so enamored with you. 

Turns out, jealousy is one hell of a motivator. 

One day, when he was assigned a different route on patrol and you were sent off with a new male partner, it all made sense. He watched the guy put a hand on the small of your back, dangerously close to the elastic-wrapped mounds of your ass. His ass. He was fuming. The sidekick gave you an excited smile, championing himself lucky to be partnered with such a force–and beauty– as yourself. Katsuki saw it immediately, how the other sidekick was looking at you, it was painfully clear. He wasn’t worried, you would never give this extra your attention–hence how you throw the rando’s arm off of you and stomp away–what does piss him off though, is that other men cannot understand that you might as well walk around with his brand across your forehead. Was he not crystal clear? Even if he hadn’t known that you were unspeakably his, surely everyone else could tell? You two went everywhere together, never was one seen without the other, except for this fuckin’ dumbass  patrol–and he was scary enough no one should even think about you in that way. 

So he finishes his rounds as early as possible that day, making it back to HQ to meet up with you after your disdainfully different route. He’s pleased to see you alone, leaning up against a doorframe with your skin-tight hero suit still perfectly intact and clinging to your every curve. No drama, no danger, he smirks to himself in relief. The way you look back at him, though, that has his heart stopping in his chest. You look so at ease, your resting bitch face melting into a smile of succor. He can tell you’re just as relieved to see him, the way you jump from foot to foot in excitement tells him so. He can’t help but give you an arrogant half-smile, amused by and admiring your every move. The air is different, the space between the two of you spoke of something different than just friends. He throws his arm around your waist, and you can tell from the look on his face that he’s ready. His red siren gaze sparkles with a bit more intensity, his calloused fingers soothing circles into the curve of your side, even the smile playing at his lips says it all. You’re his now. He knows you know this, and you’re so good to him you won’t even make him say it, but it seemed that his little revelation was enough to change him in a way you didn’t suspect. 

“Yer my lady now.” He says, no trace of annoyance, only a slight upturn to the corners of his lips. 

“I know. Been your lady for a long ass time.” You chuckle, leaning your head over on his shoulder as you begin the walk home. You couldn’t wait to tell Mina–she would freak the fuck out that he finally made his move. Even more relieved would be poor Kirishima, the man on the receiving end of so many you-themed rants. Denki’s teasing may be endless–and Sero may be the only soul genuinely happy for everyone without making it a big deal. You know the last thing Katsuki wants is to make this a big deal. He was still working his way into emotional fluency, and you didn’t want them to stunt his progress–even though it was well intentioned. 

It’s like he can read your mind, or more aptly the subtle knit of your brows and purse of your lips. He knows your brain is hard at work thinking, so he steers you home, his house of course. The weather was decent, cold like he likes. He lets you think, focusing on the sound of your boots crunching in the snow. “What’s going on in that fat head’a yours?” 

You chuckle. “I was just thinking about how insufferable our friends are gonna be.” You say, icy fingers reaching for the solace you know awaits in his warm hands. He doesn’t fight you, cupping your hands in one of his. He furrows his brows, considering your sentence, yet his thumb still absentmindedly strokes your soft skin. He huffs after a time. 

“We ain’t gotta tell ‘em. They’ll figure it out eventually anyway–let’s just enjoy bein’ us. Press’ll be stupid too.” He sighs out, not having considered the issues you two may face now, status and all. How annoying. He squeezes on your hands to convey his love. 

You sigh. “God, so true. I didn’t think of that either.” You muse, smiling at the snowflakes collecting in Katsuki’s ashy hair and lashes while he stares at you. It can only ever be described as a stare, the intensity too much to be considered anything less. You slip your hands from his momentarily, and he frowns at the loss of you. He looks up and realizes you’re unlocking his door and sighing at the warmth that greets the two of you upon entering. Once the door swings shut, your hands find him again, though now you face him, and you dare to let your touch wander up his forearms and biceps before falling back down and reaching back up again. He enjoys the feeling, the soothing comfort of your strokes nearly causing him to sigh. He just hangs his arms around your waist instead, appreciating your beauty without fear now. 

“S’ppose we’ll keep this ‘er lil secret then.” He drawls, gently pulling your body until it stops against his. You can feel his warm caramel-scented breath waft over your face, the heat in his eyes causing your own to rush to your cheeks. He smirks at that, cherishing every moment he can fluster you since it’s so typically the other way around. 

You nod, unashamedly looking down at his lips. He doesn’t hide the sultry way in which he coats them, before letting them stretch into another, wider, predatory smirk. He forces your eyes back up to his with his two fingers under your chin. 

“Sound good?” He asks with an arched brow. You nod again. He chuckles, one so deep it reverberates through his buff chest. He’s entertained,  you’re absolutely falling apart just from standing so close to him now that all his feelings for you were confirmed. “Use your words and I’ll give ya a kiss.” 

You force yourself to swallow, and then clear your throat, feeling frozen in place. He looks at you like you were the only person he could see. He looks at you with such insatiable desire, you’re rendered speechless just from a few touches and his carmine eyes dancing over your body. “Yeah–our secret.” You manage. 

He nods his approval, sliding his hand to cup your cheek instead. His hand is so big his fingers reach over your jaw and into your soft, vanilla scented hair. He almost loses his confidence, your scent and the way you bat your eyelashes hitting him all at once. You always smell so sweet, even though you were actually spicy. He thought it fit you. You stand on your tiptoes to prompt him, your hands landing on his toned pecs. It brings him back to the present, and his heart actually flutters at what he was about to do. He swallows any nervousness and leans down, licking his lips a final time before he slots them over yours. You jolt him awake, the cool touch of your mouth sends warmth tingling through him, and you’re not doing much better. You feel like you’re melting as he pulls you closer desperately, unable to get enough of you. 

And maybe, just maybe, that night ended with him becoming very acquainted with that beautiful body you proudly display today, at the beach, with all his friends, who still don’t know that you’re together. 

That’s why he’s so impossibly frustrated, keeping his head turned and pretending to be entranced by the ocean waves. His friends are stupid, but they aren’t dumb. They’ve known for the longest that Katsuki’s head over heels for you, but upon your promise, they tried to give him less shit about it. 

But Denki just can’t hold back this time. To think that he can’t see Katuski’s “sunburn”, the noticeable way he’ll look anywhere but you, and his overly sensitive nerves today is an insult to Chargebolt. He scoffs loudly. 

“Hey Bakugou, you allergic to sexy?” 

The blond’s head snaps to him and his eyes narrow in confusion. “What?!”

Denki chuckles smoothly. “You won’t even look at Y/N–and she is definitely sexy. That bikini is working overtime–”

“Say one more word about her.” He dares, sparks collecting in the palms of his hands. At the crackling sound, Kirishima decides it’s time to intervene. He holds his arms out like someone approaching a wild horse to saddle. 

“Woah, woah–easy bro!” He chuckles nervously, but it gets Katsuki’s attention, at least enough that the threat of violence dies down. “I think what Denki’s trying to say is, normally you and Y/N are side-by-side. Is everything alright?” 

Great. There was no way to win. If he looked at you, he’d surely pop a raging boner and that would confirm everything they’ve ever thought about him and his thoughts about you, but not looking at you resulted in their suspicion anyway. He huffs through his nose and scowls. 

“Yeah? Just tryin’ not to be a perv like you two fuckers. Stop lookin’ at her–” 

“Right. Okay.” Sero rolls his eyes at the longtime friend. “You know none of us give a fuck if you guys want to get together, right? In fact, we’re literally praying for it so you stop being so goddamn intolerable.” 

“So you admit you have to fight looking?” Denki snickers. Katsuki eyes the two with the wrath of hell.

Kirishima gives him a defusing glare, sighing at his hot-tempered buddy. “I second Sero, but either way, we want you to have some fun, man. We know you can’t be having a good time sitting in the sand like this. Come play some volleyball with us!” He insists, dragging Katsuki to his feet. 

Bakugo wrenches his way free of him, but follows nonetheless, scowling even deeper when Mina calls out, “Three on three! I want Bakugou and Denki!” She giggles, leaving you to team up across from him with Kirishima and Sero. He convinces himself that beating your ass in volleyball should keep your friends off your scent.

All goes well, for a while. That is until the rotation puts him directly across from you. 

Denki was right. You are so sexy. And that bikini…how could you set him up like this? The fabric clings to your hips, disappearing into the folds of your dimpled and sand-covered ass. God, he shoulda never let you out of the house. His eyes finally move up toward your bust, almost laughably stuffed into your top. It’s so unfair. You’re ridiculously stunning, and he can’t help but think you did this on purpose. He can feel his blood rushing all at once, and he knows he must be staring hard. Before he can comprehend anything else, you’re running towards the net, beautiful body glistening in the sun, your sea-textured hair swaying in time with your chest as you jump and smack the ball right in his face. 

Kirishima can’t stifle his laugh, and Denki nearly collapses in laughter beside the explosive man. Mina just puts her hands on her hips, trying to hide her knowing smirk. 

Katsuki is prideful, arrogant, brash, unforgiving, loud, and hateful. You made sure to love and accept those qualities to an extent, and help him grow out of them in some others. One thing you’ll never be able to change is his competitive spirit–and you just took a cheap shot in his rulebook. 

“That was a low blow. It doesn’t count!” He groans, swiping some of the kicked up sand from his tanned abs. He goes to pick up the ball when Sero challenges. 

“How so? She just spiked it. That’s legal.” 

And to his dismay, you play right into it. “Yeah, why’s it a low blow, Suki?”

Goddamn you. Batting your lashes and all. You’re challenging him too, daring him to keep lying or to come clean to all his friends. He snorts at you, clearly you underestimate who you’re dealing with. He’ll fuck you on the beach if you wanna push buttons–but he decides he’ll take a more moderate approach only because he doesn’t want anyone else to see you naked. You can’t back him into a corner without doing the same to yourself, so he just juts his chin at you. 

“Because you wore that bikini just to piss me off ‘n make me tell our friends yer mine.” He growls, arching a brow and folding his arms over his chest. The friends in question are unusually quiet and deathly still, exchanging knowing and relieved looks.

You shrug, blushing a bit. He caught you, but it worked anyway. Only because he allowed it, but still. You hum your acknowledgement and motion for the ball back. 

“You got me, baby. That counts as a point though. Ball’s mine.” You wink, that smug grin of yours enough to make his heart pound like it’s the first time he’s ever seen you. You’re most definitely somethin’ else, but he loves you to pieces, and he feels a lot better about being able to be just as pervy out loud as he wants to be. 

He slings the ball back over the net, mirroring your smirk. Once again, he’ll never let you best him. His eyes shine with mischief as he winks and says for your embarrassment, “Oh yer still goin’ down, sugartits.” 

[bakugoushotwife]

TLC

a/n: this lovely lil comfort fic was requested by my lawfully wedded wife, @keigotakamiz !! i know hawks if your brainchild, so i hope i did him justice! as for everyone else, i know i know, a sfw fic???

pairings: keigo takami (hawks) x fem!reader

cw: periods, comfort, just fluff tehee

wc: 2k

Keigo was extremely perceptive. He may have a carefully curated persona for the other pro-heroes and the hero commission, and that was not one of a loving and considerate partner. But for you, his character was thrown out the window. He was empathetic, highly in tune with you and actually a very doting and caring man. That’s why he was so anxious, you haven’t been yourself all day. Your replies have been short and almost angry with him while he’s been on patrol, and you turned down every option for lunch he offered. This was utterly unlike you, his easygoing, warm, and bubbly girlfriend. So he cuts his patrol short, Mirko owes him one anyway, she’ll take over. He realizes what must be interfering with his pretty girl’s mood, so he stops to get you the food he knows you’ll like because it’s the only thing you ever crave on your period. He takes the liberty to get some other stuff too, some flowers just to see you smile, a few sweet snacks for after lunch, and the ugliest stuffed animal he could find, an inside joke for the two of you. It started years ago, when you were both still teenagers. He found a Frankenstein-esque plush and held it up next to his face, claiming it was his twin. Ever since then, you’ve gifted each other horrendous stuffed animals just to get the other one to laugh. 

He’s hoping this plan will be foolproof, cutting his day short to come check on you was rarely something you took as a good thing, never wanting to be the reason that he didn’t take his job as seriously as you would hope. However, he felt like this was a special exception, given your curt texts and irritated looking snapchats. He takes the bags and carefully secures them, flying over to your place to get there as quickly as possible. He ducks inside through the open window, looking around your vacant living room and kitchen. He tucks his wings back down, not noticing anything out of place. He approaches your closed door, extending his hand to push it open. His suspicions are confirmed by the darkness of your room, the curtains drawn tightly and the TV on low volume. You were splayed out on the bed, cuddling a pillow for dear life. At the sound of your door creaking open, you sit up quickly, prepared to chuck the pillow at your intruder. 

Your arm falls to the side when you see your boyfriend standing in the doorway, slightly illuminated by the light in the hall. He closes his eyes and gives you a sweet soft smile, holding the shopping bags up by his face. 

“Hey pretty girl. I thought you could use some TLC.” He hums, closing the door behind him before making his way to the edge of your bed. Your irritated gaze slightly softens at the sight of him, and you flop back into laying down, groaning aloud. 

Your back is turned to him, arms still wrapped tightly around that pillow. He sighs a bit. You’re definitely on your period. He reaches his hand out to rest on your hip, squeezing the bone gently. He pushes his glasses up to function as a headband, and he tugs his earmuffs down around his neck. 

“I brought you some food.” He coos, a singsong lilt to his voice as if he’s enticing you to eat. 

You groan again, flailing your body against the pillow. “Don’t wanna eat.” 

“Yes you do, you just don’t wanna sit up.” He chuckles out knowingly, his gloved fingers wrapping around your wrist to pull you into a seated position. You certainly don’t help him at all, all your body weight working against him. He sighs, moderately amused by you. He knows better than anyone how clingy you tend to be around this time of the month. You’re powerful and independent, all things he values about you, but he can’t deny how nice it feels to be needed, even if you were playing hard to get. You wouldn’t admit it, but he’d ask anyway.  “Aw, babygirl, did you miss me?” 

You huff, rolling your eyes at him before snatching the bags he brought. You squirm under the covers, a sure sign that you’re pleased by his offering. You fished out your food and some medicine he brought, and finally, your gaze towards him becomes loving, and you lean into his body. He smiles, knowing you missed him more than anything, and while all these goodies were nice, all you ever wanted was him by your side. Sure, you’ll feign annoyance in the fact he took the rest of the day off to hold you and eat shitty convenience store snacks, but after that, you’ll cry your annoyance out in his shirt and then fall peacefully asleep to him telling you all about patrol. 

“Somebody definitely missed me.” He gleams, a shit-eating grin splayed across his cheeks as he presses a kiss to yours. 

You hum in agreement, popping the pills for some relief and picking at the food he brought you. He reached over you and grabbed the bag, digging out the ugly stuffed animal he brought you. It was supposed to be some sort of bird, he thinks, but the way it was printed across the fabric made it look more like a feathered…deer or something. What a perfect gift. He holds it up excitedly. 

“Another one to add to the collection, it made me think of you.” He jests, setting it in your lap. He watches you in adoration, the giggle you give him after you see it was worth any attitude he needed to disarm to get to his sweet girl again. 

You pick up the stuffed animal and hug it close, chuckling at the ugly thing. “Say you, I’m pretty sure this was a misprint of your merchandise.” You tease, checking the tag to confirm your suspicions. Now you’re howling, the ugly stuffed animal was no animal—it was a severely fucked up version of your superhero man. 

He yanks it back from you to see the tag himself, shaking his head at his hero name scrawled across the label. He’s chortling too, horrified by such a mistake but glad it could bring you such joy. Laughter is the best medicine after all, aside from snuggles, of course. You reach over and tug the toy back, cuddling it back to your chest. 

“This is my prized possession now.” 

He rolls his eyes, taking the opportunity to properly remove most of Hawks’ uniform, placing his glasses, earmuffs, and gloves on the bedside table. He shrugs out of his heavy coat and slips out of his boots, tossing the fabric to the floor. He’s certainly not getting out of bed now, not when you’re eating willingly and leaning into his side, an appetizer to cuddling. You groan at the feeling of another cramp rolling through, the medicine not kicking in yet. You pout, your bottom lip wavering and wobbling as you remember how bad the day has been, and that Keigo must have taken the day off to come to your rescue too, and you laid out of work! 

He knew it was coming, so he turns his body a little more to give you access to his chest, where you promptly bury your head under his guidance. His hand comes up to secure you there, resting on the back of your head. The sounds of your little sobs and sniffles soon follow, and he nearly chuckles at how you try to quieten yourself even after all this time. He figures you’re a bit embarrassed to be vulnerable, and he supposes that bit still applies to him as well. But still, you were a leading lady on your own, perhaps it made you feel a little silly to reduce yourself to needing his comfort, so he wouldn’t rub it in too bad. 

“Oh, c’mon babe. Let loose. It’s just you and me anyway, let me be your lil tissue.” He hums encouragingly, his other hand rubbing circles in your back. 

“It’s just be-been such a r-r-rough day!” You stutter through your tears, your wails certainly increase in loudness though, and your hands grasp at his black and yellow turtleneck. He hums through it, knowing you just needed to get it out for a second. 

“I bet, sweets. I’m sorry you’re feeling so bad, but you know I’m not going anywhere ‘til you feel better.” He says, leaning back a little so he could see your face. He smiles sympathetically, holding your tear-stained cheeks in his warm hands. “And before you even start, Mirko owed me a favor anyway so everything’s covered.” 

You smile softly at his comforts, your eyes fluttering shut from the sweet paths his thumbs rubbed in your skin. His smile spreads a bit, and he leans forward to kiss your forehead. 

“Wanna lay down? I’m multi-use, tissue, wallet, sex machine, heating pad, etc, etc.” He smirks a bit, laying back against your impossibly comfortable pillows. He understood why you clung to one until he got here. “C’mere, wanna hold you.” He says a little bit more commanding, just in case you were thinking of being difficult. 

You laugh softly, crawling on your hands and knees back up to your positioning on the bed. He lay on his back, his arms spread to the side as he waited for you to pick exactly how you wanted to curl up on him. He gives you such a kind smile, amber eyes twinkling with his adoration for you. You can’t help but return his grin, his energy always contagious. He reaches out for your hip, tugging you closer to him. You both snicker a bit as you fall the short distance to his chest, laying with your top half stomach down on top of him, legs tangled together in an effort to create maximum comfort. 

“There. Much better, now, huh?” He quizzes, the pads of his fingers smoothing circles into your lower back. You nod, heaving out a long sigh as you snuggle your face into his warmth. 

He knew it wouldn’t be long until you fell asleep, and the prospect made him smile. Whether you ever said it or not, being the only person that could ease your pain and lull you back to sleep was the highest of achievements in his book. He would relish the way you snore lightly and the way you would squirm closer and closer to him as if you wanted to be in his skin. He’ll flip on a show to watch, mostly just for the background noise, because he would watch you sleep. You always looked so peaceful, the stress lines in your face relaxed and your nose twitching on occasion. You were a work of art, maybe a difficult one, but his nonetheless, and he wouldn’t trade this for anything. He prided himself. He can read all your signs, know exactly what you need, and be that. It was the only thing he really wanted to be good at, and luckily he seemed to be a natural at it. He looks down, and sure enough, your lips are parted and barely audible snores slip out. He smirks, and turns the TV up a little, his eyes comfortably watching you sleep until a nap claims him, too.

[bakugoushotwife]

kinktober day three: mirror kink

>>> day three already woot woot! i hope you all are loving it so far, because i know i am! this is past me in the notes but it seems like these pieces are gonna get longer everyday at this rate lmfao. i picked keigs for the mirror because birb need luv

>>> starring: keigo takami (hawks) x curvy!fem!reader >>> cw: brief daddy use, doggy, highly emotional tbh i'm actually sorry, teasing, praise, pet names. >>>wc: 3.5k >>> event masterlist

keigo loves planning nights like these. you’re his special person, and his favorite pastime is making sure you know it. every so often, sometime around payday, he’ll come home with bags on bags, a dopey grin covering his face as he sashays to the bedroom of your shared apartment. he just can’t wait to show you what he got you this time, exclusively keeping his high-paying pro-hero job because it allows him to spoil his girlfriend with lavish riches. 

you weren’t high maintenance at all. at least, you didn’t start out that way. you were just you, a simple civilian that worked at the hospital he was brought into during the war with all for one. you were an adorable bedside nurse, sweet and careful in all the ways you tended to his wounds and listened to his nervous ramblings about his friends and students. you talked him through his anxieties, spending precious hours of your shift soothing him and keeping him company. he watched you get in trouble time and time again for messing the shift rotation up with your habit of staying by his side. it was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him, to genuinely listen and to touch him with care, a worry an affection in your eyes he wasn’t sure he had seen from anyone before. 

it was no surprise that he kept in touch with you once he was discharged from the hospital. and luckily, to his relief, you offered to support him through rehabilitation, helping him with his fittings for his prosthetics and keeping his spirits high when his self-worth was at its very lowest. keigo never had someone to call his, and the first time he met you, that was the last thing on his mind. but you were still there, months later, giving him the idea to try swords and katanas as replacements for his sharp wings. it wasn’t long until he was back on the battlefield using all the support items and your suggestions to make him feel like hawks again. he was still covered with burn scars, but they seemed less mangling than before. it was probably all those salves you put on him, your healing hands doing more for his heart and mind than his body at times. 

so when the war was won, and it was time to say thank you for all the things you had done for him, he found himself taking you on expensive dates and paying for your hair appointments when you casually mentioned a new look you wanted to try. he caught himself picking out nail colors and shoes–at one time they were nike’s but now they were prada or jimmy choo. not that he minded, in fact, it was his insistence that you started expanding your palette to the expensive side anyhow. you were more than content to hold his heart and let him pay for your facials, but your whiny boyfriend practically begs for you to take his card and spend every dollar. 

you learned early on, if you didn’t spend it yourself, he would do this, take the day away from you, raiding the mall for anything new you didn’t already have hanging in your room-sized closet. you could hear the rustling of the paper and plastic bags rubbing against each other, a knowing smile spreading across your cheeks. and sure, maybe months ago you were just a humble nurse. but keigo’s constant babying may or may not have created a small spoiled brat. you sit up on your knees, crawling to the edge of the bed to greet your loving partner, squealing when his excited eyes and crinkled up nose peek around the corner with a wide grin. 

“guess what i got you.” he titters, revealing the evidence of his shopping. he holds his other arm out to accept your waiting hug, stepping close enough to the bed for you to throw your arms around him in greeting. you looked so cute in your silk pajamas, just waiting in your shared bed for him to return to you. you’ve been able to reduce the amounts of shifts you take at the hospital now that you barely have any of your own bills to pay, and that was being generous. he usually paid those too, but you refused to go jobless until you had a ring—and well, let’s just say that wouldn’t be much longer. you had a fresh maintenance day yesterday, the highlights of your hair freshly toned, your brows waxed and tinted, a new set of lashes and nails–you look too good to be true like always, like you deserve for being so good to him. you’re perfect, and he cannot wait to see how you look in the things he bought you, keigo’s special girl. 

you hum playfully in thought, pressing your silken crop-top bound chest against his. he can tell you don’t have a bra on, and the thought delights him. you rarely wore anything but your slutty pajamas or the special selection of lingerie he had curated for you. one he was excited to add to tonight. you giggle and press a kiss to his stubble covered jaw, and throw out your best guess. “hmmm, shoes?” 

he chuckles, tucking some loose strands of your hair back behind your ear so he could admire your saccharine smile. he hums, nodding. you were right after all, that was part of it. “mhm, good, my little dove. what else?” 

you smile under the praises, trying to eye the bags as he snakes his arm around your waist, setting them on the bed for you. “jewelry?” you offer with an arched brow, watching his face for a hint. his amber eyes gleam with pride—and you knew you were right again. he nods, his calloused hand sneaks under your skimpy top and the warm touch makes you press yourself further into his leather and whiskey scented chest. 

“the prettiest. i think you’ll like it, lovebird.” he grins, squeezing your hip. “do you know what else i got my pretty girl?” he coos, reaching for a big black dolce & gabbana bag, containing a pretty bowed box. he always paid them extra to wrap it like a christmas gift, watching your face light up as you pulled the ribbon free always melted his heart a little. he passes the box over to you for that exact reason, returning his arm around your back to watch you open it. 

you squeal excitedly, giving his jaw another quick peck. you tug the pale bow off the box with great care, and his smile grows. inside lays a beautiful black bra and panty set, one he no doubt wants you to model for him. you gasp at the pieces, lacy and strappy, decorated with black dots against the sheer balconette style mesh. the thong was just a pathetic little triangle piece, mostly to say you had something on, if you had to guess. you beam up at him, giving him a proper kiss on the lips to signify your approval. 

“thank you daddy, it’s so beautiful! you’re too good to me!” you sing, freeing the lingerie of their confines to splay it out on your bed. he chuckles and shakes his head. 

“oh i could never even give you what you deserve, sweetness.” he hums, reaching for the tiffany & co bag. he holds it out for you next, letting you fish out the boxes inside. for this, he sits on the bed before you, hands tucked into the pockets of his tan coat, smirking up at his darling love. you peer at him over the pile of little teal boxes in your hand, arching your brow. he only chuckles, urging you to open it with his suggestive glare. he’s undressing you with his bedroom stare already, just waiting for you to put on all your pretty gifts so he could further appreciate you in them. you notice him shifting around, trying to hide the bulge he always gets from watching you jump around and celebrate how much he loves you. it was adorable, he couldn’t help but derive pleasure from it. 

you quickly tear into these three boxes, finding a pure diamond choker, bracelet, and matching stud earrings waiting to be adorned by your perfect body. you gasp at him, shaking your head in shock. you know how expensive these had to be, and you refused to accept such a crazy gift—especially paired with other things! as spoiled as he’s made you, you still look at him in disbelief. 

“what? i saw you looking at these last time. my name is hawks, after all, babygirl.” he winks, plucking the necklace from the box and turning his index in a circle to have you turn around for him in order to dangle the choker around your neck. he clasps the hook and then puts the bracelet on the wrist closest to him, leaving the earrings up to you. he turns you back to him by the shoulders, grinning valiantly–but you can see the borderline hunger lurking beneath. his siren gaze darts over to the dainty fabric still laying stiff and undisturbed on the bed. “open the last box, ‘nd then i wanna see everything altogether.” 

he bites down on his bottom lip in anticipation as he passes you the final bag, a big paper bag from—you knew what these must be immediately, and it has you squealing with joy, as you knew exactly why he saved this gift for last. “keigo, you shouldn’t have, i really cannot believe you!” you shift your weight from foot to foot, pulling the slim black box out of the paper bag, pushing the lid off with haste. 

he still sits next to you, his hands sprawled out behind him so he could lean back now, bionic wings still attached from the day. he would only remove them before sleeping, still incredibly insecure and lost without his real ones. he admired your giddiness, this emotion flowing from you was exactly the reason he would do whatever it takes to keep gifts like these flowing. you dangle the pricey so kate style red bottoms at him, jumping with glee. you nearly tackle him backward with the force of your arms around his neck, screaming your thanks in his ear. he only chuckles and wraps his arms around you in response, lightly slapping your ass to make you yelp. 

“now go and put everything on—been waiting to see you in it all day.” he pouts, jutting his chin towards your walk in closet. in all fairness, it was a second bedroom keigo had converted to a walk in for you. it was decorated with several mirrors along one wall, allowing you to get all the best angles of your outfits and accessories that your boyfriend no doubt provided. you snatched the newest goodies up and scampered off to get changed, feeling the warmth building in your chest and stomach just from the way he looks at you. you knew he had struggled with his own appearance since you met him, and you hated that. sometimes you wish you could spoil him the same way he does you, but he always swears your affection makes him feel like he’s still soaring on top of the world. 

you complete the jewelry trio by putting in the stunning studs he got, simple but huge cut diamonds perfectly accenting your features. then you tug on your new set and slip into your shoes, admiring your own reflection in the ballet studio-esque mirroring. maybe he admired you so much because he no longer could look at himself with the same fondness that you gaze at yourself—or him— with. you were stunning, that was indisputable, but it made you sad that your once notoriously cocky boyfriend now shrunk away from the sight of his own appearance. a physical lightbulb may as well have popped up over your head. “mm, daddy? wanna come help me with the buckle?” 

he should have known it was a set up. you’ve put on much more involved outfits before without his assistance. when he strolls in, ready to lend a helping hand, you’re already on the floor on your hands and knees—and the lingerie he picked looks heavenly. he can see why the louboutins were so sought after, elongating your sexy legs and exposing the signature red bottoms to him from this angle. you wiggle your perky ass, and he salivates, the semi he’s been fighting turning into a full on boner. you’re looking back over your shoulder at him with that devilish smirk on your face, and it’s then he realizes you’ve tricked him into fucking you in front of your mirror wall. and to his surprise, his cock jumps in his pants as he meets your eyes through one of the panes. you’re unimaginably gorgeous, dripping in diamonds that sparkle in the soft lighting. he can see straight down that bra, and before he can doubt himself, he’s yanking his hard cock free from his sweats and tugging on it roughly. his breathing is heavy already, the worry starting to creep in. at times it was hard to be intimate with you, not because he didn’t absolutely crave you in almost a sinister sense, but because of his own insecurities. he knows you were familiar with him before, though you only met him after the damage was done. yet still, he can’t help but worry the scars covering his face and body will gross you out one day. 

“c’mere daddy…wanna look at you like this, make you see how pretty you are.” you wiggle your ass for him again, the globes taunting him into compliance. when he lowers himself to his knees he can tell how needy you are. it must turn you on a bit to think about him taking you like this, though he can’t deny his own curiosity at the idea. his hands smooth down the curve of your back, all the way to the nape of your neck and back down to grasp your wide hips to steady himself. he licks his lips as you wiggle in his grip, making a mewl of anticipation. “please, look…i think you’re so pretty…i like the marks, makes you look all handsome and tough,” you whine so sweetly it makes his cock throb. “‘nd i need you so bad, the you i see in the mirror right now, is the sexiest man alive.” 

he chortles and rolls his eyes, feeling the warmth of blush sting his cheeks. he peels his shirt off, discarding it somewhere in the vicinity.  “yeah, yeah, hush.” he beckons, spreading your cheeks with the help of you scooting your knees further for him. it did boost his ego to hear you talk so fondly of him. you didn’t miss the old pro-hero you looked up to—you love him as is. he knows it, he’s sure of it, it’s why he spoils you relentlessly, but hearing you say it did things to him. 

“nuh-uh, i wan’ you to see…breaks my heart to hear you complainin’ ‘bout how you look…’cause you’re perfect.” you pout, wiggling back on his shaft. he helps guide himself inside, sheathing to the hilt. you do spoil him, you just didn’t realize it. the way you love him was all he needed, with the sweet words spilling out of your mouth and the choking grip your cunt has around him—the view of your face melting in the mirror felt like special treat. 

you moan out your delight, throwing your ass back against him to get him to start moving, the view of your pouty face while in doggy kept him paralyzed and utterly drunk, too busy admiring all of his gifts against your skin and the warmth of being inside you to remember to do anything about it. he chuckles breathily when he feels your recoil, giving you an affectionate slap to the bum. he starts to move in tandem to your little bounces, his eyes fluttering shut at the way you squeeze and release his curved cock. it feels so good, you can identify the veins and ridges as they drag through your walls. you don’t close your eyes though, no, your eyes are locked on his form in the mirror. he’s unreal, the slow pace at which he fucks you just driving you crazy. he’s a god, golden and chiseled, his smile enough to give you life on your darkest days. you wanted him to admit it. 

you crawl forward a little, out of his reach, off his cock. he frowns at you in the mirror. “come back.” he pouts, making grabby hands for you. 

you giggle, shaking your head. “not ‘til you smile at yourself and say ‘i’m the prettiest pro hero with the prettiest princess in the whole world.’” you say, sticking your tongue out at him in the mirror, admiring his naked form behind you. he huffs, letting his gaze drift between your face in the mirror and your ass in front of his face. he crosses his arms over his burned chest, arching a brow at you. 

“you know, i could say you’re being ungrateful.” he whines, not able to fully challenge you. you wiggle your ass at him again and arch your challenging brow back at him. for the second time, he huffs. but he realizes that there’s no use fighting you. he learned that lesson when you were his nurse. he would give in, or else. he lets his gaze drift back to your round ass and dripping pussy just waiting for him to come back to you, and he sighs. he loves starting slow just to tease you, but it seems like you have your own master plan in mind. keigo’s eyes drift back to the mirror, where he sees your eagerly awaiting face. you look over his face and body with all the adoration and affection in the world, and he feels that with your confidence, he can believe in himself and give you some peace of mind. he meets his own eyes in the mirror and nods. he certainly has come a long way, and he may never return to his former glory, but if this is the man you love—that’s enough. more than enough. he can be happy to be that man, your man. he smiles at you, then at himself. “i’m the prettiest pro-hero.” he nods with a broad smile as his gaze falls back down to you. “and i have the prettiest princess in the whole world.” he concludes, to which you coo and applaud him. he walks forward on his knees, greedily tugging you back on him, plunging his length back deep with a relieved moan. 

he doesn’t waste any time by teasing, either, holding the creases of your hips like they were his own personal handlebars, he slams into your heat, the grip of your cunt so choking he can’t control the loud groans he lets loose. you have to actively focus on holding yourself up, entranced with the sight of his pussy-drunk face, high on pleasure. his cock angles so perfectly in this position, abusing your cervix just the way he likes. it has your limbs shaking as you struggle to keep absorbing the force of his hip and your moans bordering on screams. he just loves you so much, he has to spoil the woman who’s given him everything. he knows you love him like this, that’s why you crawled into that position in the first place. 

“that’s my girl, taking it so good for me.” he nods his approval, his arm dipping to support your hips. thanks to the mirror, he can see the tears drop from the corner of your eyes, the wavering of your arms as you struggle to hold yourself up. you nod to his praise, squealing extra loud, you love being his girl. his hand dips to rub a messy pace against your clit, groaning at how you jerk and arch in response. “fuck, i can see everything like this, little dove. you look so pretty…all the diamonds suit my jewel just right.” he pants between punishing strokes, even though he’s giving you the reward of a lifetime. 

you nod, forcing your eyes open to watch him rut into you, mouth open in a silent scream while his jaw drops in awe. you’re absolutely perfect. you fold over, falling completely against his arm, clenching down on him so hard it nearly hurt him. you whimper, “gon’ cum daddy, you’re s’good…” 

he nods egging you on as he presses into your nerves harder, giggling as your legs shake and give out completely. it sends him over the edge, his eyes glued to your face in the mirror as he shoves his seed deep, continuously fucking it deeper with his hard strokes, only letting up when he was sure you couldn’t take another pump. he smiles at your fucked out appearance, hair knotted and sprawled out, the lingerie shifted just enough to let him enjoy all of you, your tearstained cheeks—and thighs. he leans over to kiss your shoulderblade, staying there to catch your breath. for a minute, all there is to be heard is panting, but soon keigo chuckles again, and scoops you out of the floor.

“now it’s time for the real princess treatment, lovebird.” he hums, taking you towards the bathroom for a fresh bubble bath of your choosing.

[bakugoushotwife]

kinktober day twenty-six: bondage kink

>>> yeah i got filthy with this one tbh and i've never written for daddy aizawa before! i hope we enjoy this natstiness.

>>> starring: shouta aizawa x curvy!f!reader >>> cw: kinda darkish, yandere-ish like behavior from aizawa, bondage with the scarf, choking, degradation, slight angst, mc hurt and recovery, slight breeding/baby-trapping, edging, orgasm ruining, one daddy lol >>> wc: 3.2k >>> event masterlist:

this is exactly why he kept working as an underground hero. maybe if you would have listened to him and followed his lead, then he might not regret his own choice. you were popular. way more popular than you should be for the eighth ranked pro-hero, but shouta knew why. you’re the country’s sweetheart, gorgeous and funny–perfect with the press and paparazzi, so sweet to fans but oh so brutal to villains. you were the commission’s people’s princess, and he couldn’t stand it. 

shouta isn’t a jealous type. he didn’t yearn to be in your shoes, after all you were constantly complaining to him about all the photoshoots and pressers and all the key-to-the-city ceremonies you had to attend. it seems like less and less of your schedule was actual hero work and the rest of it was reserved for the flashier side of the business. he didn’t wish to trade places at all. because he stayed underground—people only knew him as eraserhead, nothing about his private life—including his long-term relationship with everyone’s favorite number eight pro. he just got to go about his business, taking down his assignments without any showmanship required. he just got to keep his head down and eliminate bad guys, all before coming home to you at night. 

and sure, you were ogled. talk show hosts, interviewers, your own fanbase, and even other heroes had their fair share of tries at you, but aizawa never feared. you always gave them the same apologetic grin, informing them that you weren’t single and never would be again. of course, people pry about your love life. you never betrayed shouta’s wish for privacy, always swearing that your beau was none of their concern—your hero work should speak for itself. shouta was always proud of you and the way you handled things. you were just and fair, a strong hero with good morals and you were simply unafraid of speaking your mind. if not for the…sigh, corrupt, hero society that we were currently operating under, things would be perfect. 

but this was not a perfect world, and he knew that all too well. he’s watched you and other colleagues take on mismatched quirks or scenarios without enough information. it’s a tale as old as time. they make a martyr out of a low-ranking hero just to remind the rest of society how bad villains really were, like they weren’t the biggest villains out there. as badly as aizawa hated your publicity and stardom, he had hoped that it would keep you safe. you garnered so much attention and popularity for the heroes. there was no way they would put you at risk. 

so the day the word reached his base, he thought he was having a nightmare. it was only when he turned on the news that his worst fears were confirmed. the camera had the perfect shot of you laying in the rubble, face scraped and bloody—unmoving. the banner below the frame read, “breaking: number eight hero taken down in shinjuku city! villain slaughtered by the brave hero; backup on the way!” 

taken down? what exactly does that mean? were you dead? did they actually take you from him—all without anyone knowing how much you mean to him, how much he loves you? his face falls, and he realizes that staying underground may have been the wrong move. would they have killed him instead? would he have been there with you then, to at least keep you safe? his head is full of questions that he can’t find answers to by standing in the middle of his hq. no one understands why eraserhead looks so pale as he navigates to the tokyo hospital, though a few have sneaking suspicions as they watch your body loaded into an ambulance. 

he’s there before you are, waiting to hear any news in the lobby alongside your sidekicks and work study students. he recognized a few of them as students of his own, and it made him sick all over again. why did he allow this? why didn’t he make you take underground work? why couldn’t he follow you if nothing else, becoming a part-time hero while you took on villains way out of your league. if you had someone like him with you, you wouldn’t have ever gotten hurt. 

he can’t forgive himself as he looks at you hooked up to machines reading off just how close you were to death. it took you days to wake up, weeks to get out of the hospital on your own accord. shouta was there every step of the way, taking it on himself to ensure you made a full recovery. not because he would willingly let you back into this fucked set up, but because he needed you to be okay. he would never be able to forgive himself if you suffered permanent damages from this fight. 

luckily, or maybe unluckily so, the love of his life is a fighter. you make physical therapy a breeze, taking strides ahead of the curve and getting back to your new normal with the help of some rest and the loving care of your boyfriend. shouta seldom left your side, though he kept hinting at a change in your professional life once your progress proves that you’re ready to put the suit back on. 

“follow you underground? shouta, honey i’m the number eight. everyone’s waiting for me!” you try to reason with him. you knew it had to be hard on him to watch you at your lowest. you can’t imagine how terrified you would be if the situation was reversed, and you were the one nursing him back to health. you’d never be able to take your eyes off him again—so how can you expect him to abandon this?

“yeah i know, waiting for your return, all heroes will rally behind you and go on another villain elimination crusade.” he drawls rather annoyed. you were supposed to go back to work today–shouta’s many chides not doing the trick until he finally demanded you to stay home this morning. here you stood in your spandex suit, ready to throw your life on the line without any thought or hesitation even after you were almost killed. it makes him sick with worry. you’re brainwashed. 

you bat your eyes at him, folding your arms over your chest. he watches you with a ticked brow, lazy half-lidded eyes waiting for your response. “is that supposed to be a bad thing?”

he angrily rubs at the stubble on his cheek. “yes–what actually ever comes of this? why do so many heroes die like this every year, just like you–set up to fail? you managed to escape with your life this time. but they’ll make a cause out of you, too. i cannot allow that.” he mirrors your posture, and you narrow your eyes at him this time. 

“i killed that villain.” you huff indignantly. “and i’m fine, shouta. don’t pretend i am fragile.” you cock your head at him. he scoffs, looking down his nose at you. 

“you are. i didn’t realize it before, but you almost died due to my overconfidence in you.” he deadpans, images of you bloody and broken flashing in his mind. “i won’t make that mistake again. beat me, and you can leave.” 

it’s your turn to scoff. “excuse me? i am not fighting you, shouta—everyone gets hurt from time to time that is hardly a reason to lose faith in my abilities.” his scarf wraps around your wrist. you look at the tie and look back at him, raising and indignant brow. “really? you’re gonna play this card?” 

you activate your quirk in an effort to escape his binds, purposefully moving quickly to beat your lover’s quirk. after years of being together and learning how to fight effectively against the other, you’ve learned how to avoid it—but he stays three steps ahead. his scarf keeps you from running out of view, and your quirk is gone before you can do much else but yank against his hold on your wrist. his black hair floats and his lazy eyes turn red as you roll your own. you try to throw a punch his way, your only way to win now was to make him blink. his scarf fully unravels to take you on though, catching your other wrist and tying them together in front of you. 

“shouta.” you say sternly, heart racing as he proved you wrong. you couldn’t even beat someone you have battle experience on with a soft spot for you—there was no way you were ready for patrols with the possibility of engaging in battle again. you were hoping the call of his name would be enough to buy you some time, but based on the way his brow arches and he steps forward–you know he won’t be giving you any. 

“you lost. i could do anything with you right now.” he pushes you back toward the bed, keeping his hold on the binds taut. “and you know me. but now you’re under my control. you know you aren’t ready.” he looks down at your form sitting on the bed, unable to fight him—unable to get away. “what would happen if i was your enemy, hm? tell me, darling. you would be finished. i could have my way with you and you couldn’t do anything to stoop it.” he tugs on the fabric around your wrists. 

something about the way he says that has your bratty side kicking up like the tingling in your veins. “yeah? i’d like to see you try.” you pull back on the scarf, and he gives you a lopsided smirk. his free hand grabs your chin, lowering his face to yours. 

“you have no idea what you just asked for.” he nods, smashing his lips on yours. your eyes fall closed, and you imagine he does the same based on the energy restored in your veins. you wouldn’t dare fight him now, however. shouta was right. you had no business going back to work yet, and if he got it his way, you wouldn’t return to that line of work at all. you were too precious to him and this incident was a wake up call. you are his whole life, the one thing that gives him unending happiness even on bad days. he wants to marry you—to build a life with you, and he can’t do that if you’re convinced you actually matter to this hero society. he can’t do that if villains take you from him. so if he has to embrace his inner bad guy for your greater good, then so be it. twist his arm. 

his thin lips slot perfectly against yours, possessive and all-consuming like the heat that takes over your body from the touch. his stubbly chin collides with yours as his fingers search for your bundle through your skin-tight hero suit. it was annoyingly easy to find considering how the fabric clings to your every dip, and your head falls back as soon as he starts rubbing over it. he chuckles at how easy you are, though he knows that’s because of him. another benefit of the entire world wanting his girlfriend—they could want to their heart’s content. he got the real thing, and goddamn if you weren’t addicted to him, giving him free reign with you in moments like these. though this time it was borderline dangerous. you were letting him treat you like a villain after months of being without you as you rehabilitated. but as you kiss, he realizes he’s being too loving to teach you a lesson so serious. he pulls away, shoving you by the chin. 

“you know what villains do with hero sluts?” he asks, his gravelly voice low and almost bored sounding juxtaposed against what he was actually saying as he circles around to your back. the tone goes straight to your core, and you have to bite on your lip to keep from responding. he pops the zipper on your uniform, dragging the pathetic excuse of armor down your body. he rearranges his scarf’s hold on you to get the annoying garment off you completely. you squirm at the air on your skin and the scarf wrapping around your neck—pulling your hands back together—over your head this time. it’s tight enough that you know struggling will get you nowhere, but he’s careful. “especially the weak ones, the pretty ones?”

you shake your head as if you don’t know where he’s going with the demonstration. he shoves your legs apart, replacing his fingertips on your now bare glistening pearl. “they make them villain toys instead, and you would be the most prized one.” he grumbles at you, watching the pinch of your brow as he rubs you expertly. “they’d play with you for hours, see what all your pretty cunt handle.” he hums, sliding around the mess you’re making. once his fingers are coated in your slick, he shoves three of them inside brutally. you scream out at the burn, writhing as his bony fingers curl into your spot so crudely you were seeing colors that didn’t have names. he tugs a little at the cloth around your neck, making you gasp at the slight squeeze. it’s all such a delicious combination, and your hips are still free to grind down on his perfectly angled digits. your pretty chest heaves as your orgasm rapidly approaches. “shouta–”

“they certainly wouldn’t let you cum.” he removes his fingers from you with a nasty little squelch. you whine at the loss, struggling against your binds in an effort to pull him closer. he licks the essence of you off his fingers, humming in approval. it drives you crazy how relaxed he looks, like edging you was just his average wednesday afternoon, but perhaps that was part of your lesson. besides, the crinkle of fondness by his eyes tells you that this is only done out of your best interest. he knows you arms must be getting tired, but he couldn’t risk not running you ragged. he pushes your thighs apart again, deciding the best way to exhaust you was with his cock. he shrugs his pants down his thighs, pumping his length in preparation for you. he was well endowed—certainly enough to punish you with. you shiver at the sound of his belt clinking against the button of his pants, waiting for the feeling of his hot thick length parting your walls. he was so weighty, curved just to abuse the spots he needs to reach. he’s well trimmed and pale like the rest of his lean form, his leaking slit betraying his cool appearance. he looks up at you with disdain, clearly still annoyed that he had to tame you like this anyway. he’d much rather let you free, letting you touch and enjoy him just as he does to you, but it it seems you’re more stubborn than he thought. 

he shoves your legs up to your ears, giving you all of his length without pause or warning. “they’d never be careful” he grunts, squeezing the back of your plush thighs at the same time you vice grip his dick. his scarf tightens around your neck, finally constricting some of your air as he pulls out, sending you reeling when he plunges back into the hilt, repeating this and tightening his scarf every time. you moan out embarrassingly loud. in a way, you had already agreed to your partner’s wishes by letting him have his way with you, as he put it earlier. he knew this too of course, as he certainly couldn’t treat you any real way a villain would, and he knows you would love this far too much to consider it a lesson by any means. 

not like he’s complaining, though this is more work than he would regularly like to put in, it sure is worth it to see your tongue loll out of your mouth and eyes roll back behind those pretty lids. he finally sets a steady pace, rocking into you evenly with an extra shove at the end to kiss your cervix. the squeeze on your throat was so stimulating, giving your head just the right amount of dizziness—his cock strokes your walls in such a mouthwatering way you know you won’t even be able to warn him about your orgasm this time. he’s smart enough to know it’s coming with the way your pussy flutters around him, little whines tumbling from your lips like a promise that you’d never leave the safety of this house again. he lets you tumble off the edge this time, watching your legs jump once before removing himself from you completely, letting his scarf wrap back around him for a brief moment. you cry out at the ruined orgasm, staring at him with contempt. he smiles in amusement. 

“oh, you’re mistaken. weak little heroes like you are in no position to give such attitude.” he shakes his head in disappointment, his scarf descending again to roll you over and take your wrists behind your back. you have no choice but to bury your cheek in the bed as shouta positions your hips where he wanted them. you squeal out when he plows back in, the angling has your toes curling and mouth drooling. “at least this hero slut has good pussy.” he drawls, giving your ass a light spank. “probably the only thing that would keep you alive out there.” he groans as you clamp down on him again, making him grin. you clearly enjoy his dirty talk–evident by your slutty moans and spasming cunt. “think you should finally get to cum, little hero?” 

you nod rapidly, whimpering loud. “please daddy, wanna stay your hero whore~” you say so sweetly that even a man as detached as shouta aizawa couldn’t deny you when he’s supposed to be the bad guy. he nods, letting your arms go. 

“then do it, show me what a slut i have. maybe i’ll breed her and make her stay home.” he grunts, feeling you clench him and yell out for the last time. your vision burns white as you let yourself sink into the overwhelming ocean of pleasure that’s been denied to you for so long hitting you all at once. you sputter out whines and moans, giving his cock a pretty ring of your creamy release. his head falls back at the sight, black hair sticking to the sweat he’s worked up. he can’t hold it off any longer, pelvis still against your ass as he empties his load, balls drawing up to give you everything. you nod contently, feeling the warmth seep through your core. his scarf withdraws completely—not before pulling your hair to one side so he could see your blissed out face. 

“don’t go back to work.” he pants, feeling up the curve of your back as he softens inside you. “can’t get that close again.” he nods, finding your eyes. you sigh softly, rolling to your back as he gets something to clean you up with. 

“guess i gotta since you’re burying loads in me now.” you snicker, and he holds the towel out of reach to tease you, expression bored—though one corner of his mouth creeps up. he hopes it takes, nothing would distract you from your lack of career like a new one.

[bakugoushotwife]

kinktober day twenty-four: dry humping

>>> hawks that’s it that’s the post!!

>>> starring: keigo takami x curvy!f!reader >>>cw: ur just so submissive n breedable he can’t help it, mild exhibitionism, no aftercare, mating press, creampie. >>> wc: 2.1k i’m sorry my LAPTOP >>> event masterlist

keigo is a busy—and forgetful—man. he forgot his lunch at home at least twice a week, though you were beginning to think it was just so you would get all prettied up and make your way to his office to bring it to him.

you do it every time, knowing without a doubt that your hero would work straight through lunch if he wasn’t looking at it sitting on his desk. between running his own agency and reporting to the hpsc and his sidekicks and the media—taking care of himself was the last thing on his mind. thank goodness for his lovely little lady who always made sure he slept and showered and ate. he would definitely be in ruin if it wasn’t for you. you were more than he deserves; soft, sweet, and so, so, sexy. you certainly knew how to ease the stress in his life and solve the ache in his heart.

and apparently, the rumbling in his stomach.

you always took special care of your appearance anytime you visited hawks at his agency. you don’t know why, necessarily, but you felt the need to look your best when you strut to the top floor of his prestigious building. maybe it’s your way of showing off, maybe you just want him to feel proud of his choice. either way, you put on your cutest dress and do your makeup in the style that he likes, packing his bento and dutifully walking to his office.

keigo noticed about halfway through his commute to work that he left his lunch at home. he could easily fly back to the house and pick it up, he wouldn’t even be late for his morning patrol given his quirk—but! he knows you’ll bring it. it’s a thursday and he hadn’t forgotten it all week—he didn’t want you thinking that he didn’t wanna see his girl during the work day now. he looked forward to his break today, smiling a little wider as he flew towards his agency with the knowledge that his little dove would be stopping by to spend it with him.

the first half of the day passes rather hectically—though that was considered normal in his experience. he was short in sidekicks today but not short on missions that needed to be completed. he had to cover more ground than usual because of it and he had to do an interview right before your unscheduled but definitely scheduled arrival.

but as soon as he hears the cute little heels he bought you clink against the tile of his agency, he’s nearly cured. the headache he was developing eases, tunnel vision clearing up and his brow relaxing visibly at the sight of you.

“little dove!!!” he chirps, a few of his feathers taking the bento off your hands like you were carrying some heavy load.

“you forgot your lunch again, keigo. if you want me to eat lunch with you, all you have to do is ask.” you give him a knowing look, lifting your leg so you could take a little seat on the corner of his desk. he smiles at you with the utmost admiration the entire time—gold avian eyes glowing with soft affection, though your yellow sundress was definitely darkening his thoughts the longer he stared at the sweetheart neckline.

“asking takes all the fun out of it, little bird.” he leans forward, kissing the tip of your nose before going back to the mess of papers scattered around. you can tell it’s been a long day already—his shifty eyes and fidgeting hands shuffling over endless blurs of words that he needed to organize before he allowed himself to get distracted with you.

you roll your eyes at both his response to you and his adhd style mess that somehow made perfect sense to him. you pry the lid off the top of his bento, unstacking the little boxes to prepare to force feed him if necessary. you toss your hair over your shoulder, sliding off the desk to bend over his lap with your offering. he pretends to not notice what you’re doing—but you don’t understand. he has to. you basically have your tits in his face and he’s so stressed out that just the sight of his soft, warm pillows have him ready to risk it all. he can smell your sweet perfume, some of your stubborn hair still tickling his stubble-covered jaw.

“keigo…” you raise your brow, his gaze trained on your cleavage makes it clear that he was just lost in thought, not in paperwork. not that you cared—you thought his workload was ridiculous and that he was much harder on himself than he deserved. “you need to eat.” you huff, and your tone snaps him out of his dirty day dreams. he leans forward and takes the food off your extended chopsticks, smiling up at you innocently.

“wanna eat you instead.” he pouts, swiftly turning your wrist so you wouldn’t be able to hold onto the chopsticks before tugging you into his lap. you would chuff at such a cheesy reply—especially given his usual creativity, but he doesn’t give you the chance. he’s feeling at the fat of your hips, letting his face fall forward into the swollen mounds of your breasts. you giggle at the feeling of his scruff against your flesh, wet lips tracking over your chest. that feels far less funny, especially as his hands slide to your waist and back to your thighs; you find yourself arching into him and panting softly, trying to keep your volume down.

he just couldn’t help himself. you were such a relief in more ways than one, and he needed you to work your magic. it felt like he was the magician though, his hand moving further north to ghost over your cunt, your dress hiked up enough for him to tell his little dove isn’t wearing any underwear. how thoughtful of you, truly. it seems to him you wanted to relieve him too—of course his sweetness would.

your fingers knit in his hair as he cups your exposed pussy—warm and already slick for him. he grins a bit, looking up at you with his same love-filled gaze. he guides your need down on his lap—making your clit catch on his pants so deliciously your cheeks warm. he was biting his lip at the cute way you tug on his hair and struggle to be quiet.

“keep it down, pretty. don’t wanna get hawks in trouble, yeah?” he taunts a little—all part of his relief, you know. watching you wrestle to control yourself was so adorable, he just had to see more. his hands speed you up as his other hand pulls down the neckline of your sexy little dress.

you nod eagerly, hips humping up into him in order to chase that addicting burn in your stomach. you knew he’d give it to you—he wasn’t that mean, but he certainly wanted to see you squirm. you bite down on your lip to muffle your whines, feeling the intensity claw at your lungs to leave you gasping as softly as you could manage. he grins, a smug expression of his control over you as you nod vigorously—a silent sign that you were about to reach your end.

he nods to permiss it, eyes trained on how your fat tits bounce with your stuttering hips. he flickers up to watch your face, your mouth hung open in a perfect o—complimenting your crossed eyes. he chuckled a little, leaning up to kiss over your chest and wrap his arms around you with a knowing look.

“aw, my lil dove could hardly hold it together!” he giggles, the imprint of his dick shifting against your sensitive slit as he stood.

“mhm, ‘s hard to be quiet for you daddy.” you nod in agreement, pouting at him while securing your hold around his neck.

“poor baby—let’s go to the roof so you can be as loud as you want..” he purrs despite his avian nature. you bite your lip at the suggestion, just as riveting and tempting as the first time he offered to take you up there.

“need more of you—don’t care where.” you kiss at his jawline, only making his wings twitch with excitement for you. then the wind is whipping through your hair as keigo takes you to ‘his v.i.p. lounge.’

he lands smoothly as always, the blanket he leaves up for his lunch breaks with you serving as the barrier between your near naked form and the cool tile lurking beneath. he’s got you on your back instantly, shrugging out of his jacket and working on his belt with great haste. he’s focused on your impatient body, the slick coating your thighs and the light hickies he placed earlier combined with your needy face and spread legs had him fumbling to get his dick in you as soon as humanly possible. his pants drop to his knees and he pulls your hips forward, playing around in the mess he’s made of you. you whine at his teasing, shaking your head with a pout.

he chuckles, pushing your knees up to your ears as he sinks into your waiting cunt. his head falls back at how you fit around him. there was no pussy like this in the entire world, and he would fuck you like it.

“gah—ah~” you moan out at the weight of him nestled inside your body—the perfect movements he settled into to build that fire in your gut again, and this was just the beginning; two of his feathers flocked to your chest to rub against your perky nipples.

your back arches at the sensation, and he begins to fuck into you harder. you’re so intoxicating to him, you’re perfect and pliant nature—your stunning face and even more beautiful soul had him by the balls.

and then his phone rings. he groans, sending it to voicemail with a click—rutting against your womb at a pace most men would falter in. but then they call back, and he realizes that it has to be important. he listens to the voicemail message—and his suspicions were right. emergency in kyoto.

“gotta make this quick, darlin’. got some trouble a little bit away…gonna be a good girl and let me use my pretty pussy?” he asks, tossing his phone over his shoulder. you nod, his pace hadn’t slowed even while he was listening to the call, making you

a pile of mush already. you would let him do anything to you, and you weren’t sure he’d even have to ask.

“knew you would. so good for me to use.” he coos to you, languidly dragging his cock through your walls. you can feel every ridge of his dick, hitting every spot almost magically. your head rolls along your blanket, screaming for him just like he wanted. you can tell he’s working hard to finish—to fuck you and then go do his job, sweat beads along his hairline, pearly teeth digging at his lip. “geez you’re such a good sleeve for daddy. want to be full, little dove?”

he doesn’t know where to look. your gorgeous cunt sucking him in, your perfect tits bouncing in time with every brutal slam of his hips to your ass. how would he choose? how about your mouth forming perfect prayers of his name or your eyes rolling back in your head as he pins you down and makes you take it.

“fuck—daddy! please—“ you were so close, on the precipice of something intense and earth shattering. this wasn’t like earlier, the fire was uncontrollable and you couldn’t hold it much longer.

“gonna cum baby girl—just like that, fuck yeah.” he pants, guiding your hips forward to meet his insane thrusts. he spills his load, stilling his hips before you could tip off that precious precious edge—and you knew immediately he did it on purpose. you were his relief, he had to hurry! but don’t worry, keigo won’t leave you wanting for long.

he leans over to give you a quick smooch, tucking himself back into his pants and fixing his belt, giving you that same smug grin as he reaches for his jacket.

“lunch was delicious babe. dinner will be even better, i’ll see you at home!!” he coos, pecking your lips once more for good measure before he’s just a flash of scarlet in the clouds.

you’re still reeling, head spinning from denial and the feeling of his seed pearling down your legs. once you’ve finally got your breath, you’ve rationalized his departure. you knew he had a crazy day today—it really wasn’t his fault. plus, he was going to make it up to you when he got off tonight. but…wait a minute.

how the fuck are you getting off this roof?

[bakugoushotwife]

family man // touya todoroki

a/n: this request was adorable! i love dabi sm and my favorite delusional past time is pretending i can fix him

summary: touya never pictured being a family oriented man, yet he's traversing the aisles of a local grocery store in the early hours of the morning just to satisfy your pregnancy cravings---and he's never been happier.

cw: fluff, domestic dabi, let's pretend everything w him and his family is all good!, uh pregnancy ig

wc: 1.7k

He never thought he would be here. He was honestly surprised he had even lived this long, nevermind all the perks of life he finds himself surrounded by these days. He doesn’t even remember contemplating a future. Even when he was really young and his only dream was to be a hero, he imagined himself alone. 

But then he met you. You were…his lifeboat. He would have blown up on his family if he hadn’t stumbled across you in that grocery store that day. Of all the places to fall in love, he thought he was safe at the grocery store. Especially with his appearance and reputation, never in a million years did he imagine a dainty and cute little woman struggling to reach a jar of her favorite pasta sauce, perilously moved to the top shelf. 

You sigh in relief when you see him. He swears that’s the first time he’s ever gotten that response from a stranger before. Then you surprise him again when your eyes gleam with recognition, and you still smile. 

“Oh I know you! Dabi–League of Villains!” You hum, even adding your own inflection to his affiliation like it was a scary movie or something…not as dangerous. You point up to the jar. “I know it kinda goes against your whole m.o., but would you mind grabbing that jar for me?”

How could he say no to a face like that? You were breathtaking, and he wastes no time checking out the thickness of your thighs and the roundness of your ass before giving you a nonchalant nod. He strolls over, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. “True fans call me Touya.” 

You laugh at his arrogant face, and that certainly humbles him. You’re gorgeous and you’re unafraid, those two made a dangerous combination. “I’m no fan, Touya.” You hum, leaning against your shopping cart. He reaches up for the jar, and you never take your eyes off of him. He feels it, he knows. He’s a little confused, though he rationalizes your friendliness to pity, maybe, or just a fetish of yours if he had to guess. He holds the jar out, and you make it a point to brush against his fingers when you take it from him, a cheeky grin on your face. 

His eyes widen slightly, and he nearly jerks away out of instinct, but there’s a glimmer in your eyes that tells him to pursue this, that there’s something there. So when you offer to let him come home with you to try the pasta sauce you made such a hassle for, he can’t help but give you a lopsided toothy grin, and follow after you. 

That leads him here, in the aisles of the same grocery store he stood in five years ago when he met you. A lot has changed since then, he thinks to himself while browsing the store for hot cheetos and chocolate covered strawberries, and the banana mochi they’re always out of. In any other event, he would think you’re nasty. Would he refuse to get it for you? Probably still no, but he would give you hell for it.

But now, he can’t blame you. It’s only his responsibility to get these things for you. It makes your life easier, which definitely makes his life easier. Sure the combo is wicked, but what baby Todoroki wants, she gets. He can’t deny the mother of his child anything, and if their daughter wants this ghastly diet, then he will drag his ass to the store at, he checks his phone, 1:02 AM, to get them for the loves of his life. 

He locates the items, and slinks off to checkout. He definitely never thought of kids. Even after you. He just assumed it was a part of his life he would never experience, why would anyone want kids with him? But for your three year anniversary, you asked to try. He was shocked, it took him days to really think about it and try to think of a baby. He struggled. He thought of you holding that baby cousin of yours, but that was different, it wasn’t yours. When he tries to make the baby look like him, he struggles harder. It’s easy to think of the image when the baby looks like you, instead. And he knows you’d make an amazing mother. You have the personality, the love in your heart, the desire. He can’t deny you that. He would be remiss to say he could break things off with you so you could find someone more suited to be a father, but he knows he’s too far in at this point. He could never let you go. So days later, when he comes to you and agrees to try for a real life human baby of his very own, he does it for you. Because he wants to show you he loves you and is willing to compromise. He’s willing to help you and take care of a screaming brat just because he’s wrapped around your finger. 

He didn’t imagine how much he would love it. He chuckles as he walks home, bags in hand, banana mochi secured. It’s like his life was separated into before you and after you. Everything he thought of pre-you was thrown out, and he’s been surprised with every twist that’s come after-you. No one would believe him if he admitted the giddiness in his step to get back home to his very pregnant wife, the woman who’s saved his life and made him another. No one would believe it if he told them that he’s spent hours scrolling through baby girl names on google and he actually picked the name your daughter will bear once she’s born. 

That’s fine, he doesn’t really need anyone else to believe him. Even when he strolls through the door of your shared home with a loud, begrudging sigh, he grins when he sees your shining face. He can’t pretend like your request bothered him, no matter how tough he wishes he could be in front of you. The sight of you wiggling your hips to get off the couch and waddle over and hug him, seven and a half months pregnant, is enough to make any man feel like he’s won the lottery.

He still remembers the day you told him that you were pregnant. You know how he hates massive celebrations or big flashy statements, so you came up with a more intimate and sweet plan.You just waited for him to get home that day, clutching the test tightly in your fist with a small pair of baby shoes you were able to crochet with all the time on your hands. When he comes in the door and you don’t greet him, he frowns. He’s prepared to make a dramatic scene when he pokes his head in the bedroom and sees you posing with the items. Your grin is impossibly wide and he can’t believe what he’s seeing. It took a while, but here you were, finally pregnant. He was filled with so much excitement but also so much fear, he only choked out a gasp and pulled you into his arms in response. He began to wrack his brain for a solution, on how to be a dad in nine months or less. He wasn’t even sure he was a good husband—but your loving and tender hand on his face brought him back to reality. Your smile is relaxed and you are nothing but ready. He knows if nothing else, you’ll teach him. 

But it turns out fatherhood is something that comes to him quite naturally. He baby-proofs the entire house the day you hit six months and he decides to have his sister host a giant baby shower. Even if he isn’t into big events, you are, and you deserved to be doted on and spoiled and given gifts before you gave him the greatest one of his life. 

That’s why he holds you like he does now, like he hasn’t seen you in years or like this is the last time he ever will. Because he’s so grateful, for everything you’ve given him and will continue to give for the rest of your lives, but he’ll never know how to tell you that. So he can only hug you tight and dangle the bags of your requested cravings in your face, a mischievous grin donning his features. 

“There mama, now baby girl can let you sleep.” He says, resting a gentle hand over the bump you’ve formed. It’s not yet big enough to keep you from hugging, and he’ll relish that for now by running his palm over his daughter’s temporary home. 

You cheer happily, digging through the bags and going for the banana mochi first. He chuckles, he knew that you would. He feels the baby kick into his hand upon your first bite, and he shakes his hand at his women. So dramatic. But he can’t deny the satisfaction he feels when he crouches to her level, his gravelly tone low just for the girl growing inside. 

“Hey, let mama rest or you’ll come out all lumpy or something.” He huffs, his turquoise eyes flickering up to you when the baby responds to his voice with more kicking. 

“She will not be lumpy—don’t lie to her!” You snicker, resting your hand on top of snow-white hair. 

He pokes his tongue out at you like it was supposed to be a secret. “I was trying to help ya, now you get what you get.” He chuckles, kissing the top of your belly before rising to kiss you too, hand still on your stomach. 

You return his kiss but shake your head. “She kicks because of you, you goober. She’s performing for her dad.” You hum, easily downing the snacks. He contemplates the idea, his heart warming. Maybe his daughter did like the sound of his voice. He hums appreciatively, and sighs his content. 

“Well, if yer listenin’, it’s past your bedtime.” He huffs, but he means this to you as well. It’s been getting harder to sleep the bigger you get, so he’s having to be more of an authority on your care than he’d like to be. “Off to bed, both of you.” He grumbles, leading you down the hall for more cuddles, back rubs, head scratches, or even more snacks if that’s what you want, whatever will get you to sleep. His night will be spent wondering if his daughter will look like you like he had always hoped when he finally gets to meet her.

[bakugoushotwife]

kinktober week 2 sneakie peakie??

[bakugoushotwife]

I have the nastiest fantasy about keigo and I don't know where to share, idk if people still are thirsty over him like I am. Could you be the one to listen to me?

i am always down for thirst ideas bby lay it ON ME

[bakugoushotwife]

i saw you’re taking requests could you do a best friend’s brother with bakugou or dabi 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼 yes to NSFW

using your idea as my day six theme!! it will contain dark content! but i saw this and was immediately so inspired and knew I wanted to save this for kinktober!!