#quirk!reader

[blairxbear]

Do you think you could write an Aizawa x fem reader who is a new teacher and her quirk is having cat like qualities like night vision, sharper nails, quiet walking, excellent balance etc. and she also has cat ears and a tail?

(If she can have an “orange cat” personality as well that would be wonderful. If not I understand and I’m sorry,I’m not sure if I did this correctly I’m still trying to figure out how to word things correctly)

A/N: Hi Lovely! No problem at all, I hope you like it!! I wasn't sure if you wanted it in a romantic context or not but it did end up going that way, if you don't like that though let me know and I can make changes :)

The Stray That Stole His Heart

Shota Aizawa had always been a man of patience.

A man of routine, discipline, and quiet solitude.

So naturally, when Nezu had announced a new hire at U.A., he had assumed nothing would change.

But then you arrived.

And Aizawa quickly realized that nothing would ever be the same again.

The first time Aizawa met you, it was during the faculty meeting, and he immediately knew two things:

You had cat ears and a tail, which made an impression on everyone in the room.

You were completely unpredictable.

It wasn’t just your quirk—which, admittedly, was impressive. Enhanced agility, night vision, sharp reflexes, and an uncanny ability to move so quietly that even he—someone who had trained himself to be hyper-aware—could barely hear you coming.

No, it was your personality that truly caught him off guard.

You were chaotic, to say the least.

Unfiltered, playful, mischievous—with a penchant for getting into trouble just for the fun of it.

An orange cat in human form.

And it drove him insane.

But what was worse?

It also fascinated him.

From the very first week, you had made it your personal mission to test his limits.

You frequently showed up late to meetings, claiming you got “distracted by something shiny.”

You napped in the most inconvenient places—on top of file cabinets, across the teachers’ lounge couch, even once on top of Aizawa’s desk (which had earned you the deadliest glare of his life).

You stole his coffee. Regularly.

You pounced onto his shoulders from above, just to “see if his reaction time was as fast as everyone said.”

(It was. But he still nearly had a heart attack that day.)

And yet—

Despite your absolute disregard for personal space and normal social conventions, you were a damn good teacher.

Your students adored you, your battle tactics were sharp and effective, and you had a natural talent for handling even the most rowdy kids (cough Bakugo cough).

And somehow—despite all your antics—Aizawa found himself growing used to your presence.

To the way your ears twitched when you were listening intently. To the way your tail flicked when you were irritated. To the way you always tried to get a reaction out of him, even when he refused to give you the satisfaction.

And then, one day—

He realized he had a problem.

Because he liked it.

It was late one evening, long after most of the staff had gone home.

Aizawa had been grading papers, exhaustion creeping into his bones, when he heard the softest footfalls outside his office.

No one else would have noticed them.

But Aizawa knew exactly who it was before you even poked your head inside.

“Still working?” you mused, stepping in without an invitation, tail swaying lazily behind you.

Aizawa sighed. “Obviously.”

You hummed, moving closer, perching yourself on the edge of his desk—a habit he had long given up trying to correct.

“You know,” you mused, eyes glinting in the dim light, “you’re always telling me I should take my job more seriously. But when was the last time you actually took a break?”

Aizawa didn’t respond.

Because the answer was too damn long ago.

Your lips curled slightly, as if you could read his thoughts.

Then—before he could react—you reached out, plucked his red pen from his hand, and tossed it across the room.

Aizawa stared at you.

“…Did you just—”

“Yep.”

“…Why?”

“Because you’re done for the night.”

His eye twitched. “I still have work to do.”

“Nope.” You grinned, tail flicking playfully. “Work is done. I have officially declared it.”

Aizawa exhaled heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t have time for your games, Y/N.”

But you weren’t backing down.

Instead, you tilted your head, ears twitching slightly, and for the first time since you had met, your voice was softer.

“I mean it, Shota,” you murmured. “You do too much. Just… take a break. Just this once.”

Something in his chest tightened.

Because no one ever told him to slow down.

No one ever took the time to worry about him.

But you?

You had been paying attention this whole time.

And that was the moment he knew.

That he was completely and utterly doomed.

Ko-fi / Masterlist

blairxbear © 2024. do not copy, modify, or translate my work. you do not have permission to share my work outside of tumblr!

[angieslove06]

The Reluctant Savior

Prompt: Our hero is famous... but he doesn't want to be. She's the only one who sees past the mask.

The world adored him. Red Riot, the unbreakable hero, the unyielding shield of the people. His name was spoken with admiration, his face plastered across magazine covers, and his victories replayed on news channels daily. To everyone else, he was an inspiration—fearless, indomitable, and shining like a beacon of hope.

But to you?

He was just Eijirou.

And he looked exhausted.

You stood in the back corner of the bustling hero agency, watching as Kirishima smiled and waved at reporters, his signature sharp-toothed grin never wavering. He was answering questions about his latest battle, a takedown of a villainous group threatening civilians in Shibuya. They called him a "symbol of resilience," the hero who never backed down.

But you saw the stiffness in his shoulders. The way his hands clenched behind his back. The way his eyes, bright and determined for the cameras, dimmed the moment he thought no one was looking.

You exhaled, rolling your shoulders as you observed the scene. Your own hero name—Tempest—wasn't nearly as famous, though your quirk was nothing to scoff at. Stormweaver, a powerful wind manipulation ability that allowed you to control air currents, pressure, and even summon small bursts of lightning in high-energy states. It made you fast, unpredictable, and a nightmare in aerial combat.

But fame wasn’t your thing.

Unlike Kirishima, you weren’t a headline hero. You worked best in the shadows, handling recon, quick interventions, and crowd evacuations. People appreciated you, but they didn’t worship you.

And you were fine with that.

Kirishima, though? He had no choice.

The press conference finally ended, and he turned, heading toward the agency’s private wing. The second he crossed the threshold away from the public eye, his shoulders slumped, and the weight of the world crashed down on him.

“Long day?” you asked, arms crossed as he passed you in the hallway.

He jumped slightly before chuckling, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah… but, y’know, just another day in the life of a hero.”

“Bullshit,” you said flatly.

His crimson eyes widened slightly before he laughed again, this time more tired than amused. “You’re always so blunt, Tempest.”

You shrugged. “I just don’t like fake smiles.”

He tilted his head, studying you with quiet curiosity. “You’re the only one who calls me out on it.”

You leaned against the wall, watching him carefully. “Because I know you, Eijirou. You don’t like this, do you? The attention, the expectations.”

He hesitated.

For a moment, he looked like he wanted to deny it, to flash another grin and insist he was fine. But something in your gaze held him in place.

Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his messy red hair. “I wanted to be a hero to help people. To make them feel safe. I never wanted… all of this.” He gestured vaguely toward the closed doors behind him, where reporters had just been shouting his name. “I mean, I get it. It comes with the job. But sometimes… I feel like I’m just playing a role instead of being myself.”

You nodded, your own expression softening. “Then stop pretending.”

His eyes flickered to yours, uncertain.

“You’re strong, Eijirou. Not just because of your quirk or your title, but because of who you are. People admire you, yeah, but you don’t have to be their unshakable hero 24/7. You’re allowed to be tired. You’re allowed to feel overwhelmed.”

He looked down, gripping his hands into fists. “But if I stop, even for a second… what if I let people down?”

You stepped closer, your voice quieter now. “Then let me hold you up.”

His breath hitched, and for the first time, the unbreakable hero looked like he was on the verge of cracking.

You weren’t sure what compelled you to do it, but you reached out, taking his hand in yours. He stared at the contact, almost as if he couldn’t believe it. His hands were warm, calloused, steady… but they trembled slightly under your touch.

“You’re not alone, Eijirou,” you said softly. “You never were.”

And for the first time that day, he smiled—genuine, quiet, and meant only for you.

---

Kirishima didn’t let go of your hand right away.

For a long moment, he just stood there, his fingers curled slightly around yours, as if grounding himself in the reality of your words. Then, with a deep exhale, he finally released you, rubbing the back of his neck in that sheepish way he always did when he was unsure of himself.

“Thanks, (Y/N),” he muttered, eyes flickering to yours before glancing away. “I… don’t really know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” you replied. “Just… be honest with yourself for once.”

He huffed a small laugh, shaking his head. “Easier said than done.”

You understood that. More than he probably realized.

The two of you had worked together for years now, first as classmates in U.A., then as pro heroes navigating the chaotic world of villain takedowns and public expectations. But unlike him, you never embraced the spotlight. You operated in the background, handling missions that didn’t come with flashing cameras and screaming fans.

And yet, despite your differences, you and Kirishima had always been close. You had each other’s backs on the battlefield, sure—but this? This felt different. Deeper.

A sudden knock on the nearby office door made both of you straighten.

“Red Riot?” a voice called. It was one of the agency assistants. “There’s another interview request. They want to do a feature on your hero origins. The director asked if you’d be available to—”

“Tell them I’m busy,” Kirishima interrupted, surprising both you and the assistant. His voice wasn’t harsh, but it was firm.

The assistant blinked. “Oh. Uh… sure thing.”

As the door shut, you turned to him with a raised brow. “Look at you, setting boundaries.”

Kirishima sighed. “I dunno. Maybe you got in my head.”

“Good,” you said with a small smirk. “It’s about time.”

He chuckled, but there was still tension in his shoulders. You could tell he wasn’t used to saying no. After all, his entire identity revolved around being there for others—protecting them, saving them, never letting them down. But heroes weren’t indestructible.

You glanced at him, debating whether to push further. Then, before you could second-guess yourself, you grabbed his wrist.

“C’mon.”

Kirishima blinked. “Huh? Where are we—”

“You need a break,” you said simply, dragging him down the hallway. “And I know exactly where to go.”

---

Fifteen minutes later, the two of you were sitting on the rooftop of the agency, legs dangling over the edge. The city stretched out below, lights flickering like fireflies against the early evening sky. Up here, away from the noise and expectations, the world felt quieter. Smaller.

Kirishima let out a slow breath, leaning back on his palms. “Man… I forgot how nice it is up here.”

You smirked. “That’s because you never take the time to slow down.”

He glanced at you. “And you do?”

You shrugged. “Sometimes. Helps clear my head.”

For a while, neither of you spoke. The wind brushed against your skin, carrying the scent of rain from the distant storm clouds. You could feel the shift in air pressure—a subtle tingle from your Stormweaver quirk telling you that a storm was coming.

Kirishima must have noticed the way you inhaled deeply, sensing the shift. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you murmured. “Just… thinking.”

“About?”

You hesitated before answering. “Heroes. Expectations. How people think we’re invincible.” You turned to look at him. “How you think you have to be invincible.”

Kirishima frowned slightly but didn’t deny it. Instead, he ran a hand through his red hair, exhaling through his nose. “I know I can’t be unbreakable all the time,” he admitted. “But it’s hard, y’know? People rely on me. They trust me to be strong.”

You nudged his shoulder. “Being strong doesn’t mean never breaking. It means knowing when to let someone help you pick up the pieces.”

His eyes met yours, something unreadable flickering in the crimson depths. “You really believe that?”

“I do,” you said firmly.

Silence settled between you again, but this time, it was more comfortable. Less heavy.

Then, after a long pause, Kirishima smiled—not the wide, toothy grin he always gave to the public, but something softer. More real.

“Thanks, (Y/N),” he said quietly.

You leaned back on your palms, gazing at the horizon. “Anytime, Red.”

And for the first time in a long while, Kirishima allowed himself to just be.

---

The sky darkened, painted in hues of deep blue and violet as night settled over the city. The distant rumble of thunder rolled through the clouds, a subtle reminder of the coming storm. Up on the rooftop, away from flashing cameras and screaming fans, Kirishima finally let himself breathe.

You sat beside him, the gentle hum of the wind filling the silence between you. Unlike most people, you didn’t expect him to fill every quiet moment with conversation. You didn’t push him to be something he wasn’t.

Maybe that was why he always found himself gravitating toward you.

He let out a slow breath, running a hand through his messy red hair. “You ever feel like… people only see what they want to see?”

You turned to him, brow raising slightly. “All the time.”

Kirishima huffed a quiet laugh. “Yeah, I guess you would.”

You weren’t flashy like some of the other pro heroes. You didn’t chase fame or crave validation. You did your job—Stormweaver was as reliable as the changing winds, fast and unpredictable, always one step ahead of disaster. People appreciated you, but they didn’t put you on a pedestal the way they did him.

And maybe that was why you understood him better than anyone.

Kirishima leaned back, bracing his arms behind him. “I don’t hate being a hero. I love helping people. I love making them feel safe. But sometimes… I wonder if they only like me because of the idea of me, y’know?”

“The unbreakable hero,” you murmured.

He nodded, jaw tightening. “Yeah. What if I wasn’t unbreakable? What if I cracked? Would they still believe in me?”

You shifted, moving so you were facing him fully. “Eijirou,” you said, voice steady. “You’re more than just your quirk. More than your reputation. And if people can’t see that, then that’s their problem.”

He looked at you then, really looked at you. There was something raw in his gaze, something fragile beneath the hardened exterior. You had seen it before—brief moments where the mask slipped, where the weight of his own expectations nearly crushed him.

But this time, he didn’t try to hide it.

“I don’t want to be a symbol,” he admitted. “I just want to be me.”

You reached out, placing a hand on his forearm. His skin was warm beneath your fingertips, his muscles tense like he was waiting for something—permission, reassurance, maybe even acceptance.

---

The first raindrop landed on your cheek.

It was cold, a stark contrast to the warmth of Kirishima’s skin beneath your fingertips. His crimson eyes flickered to the darkening sky, watching as storm clouds thickened above the city. The wind picked up, shifting unpredictably—an extension of your own unease.

You could feel it coming.

A storm, yes, but something else, too. Something heavier.

Kirishima hadn’t moved away from your touch. If anything, he seemed to lean into it, his tension easing slightly beneath your grip. His confession still hung in the air between you, fragile yet unshakable.

"I don’t want to be a symbol. I just want to be me."

You squeezed his arm gently. “Then be you, Eijirou. The world can wait.”

He exhaled slowly, letting his head tilt back as the rain started to fall in earnest. Droplets clung to his red hair, sliding down his jaw. “I don’t even know what that means anymore,” he admitted.

You frowned slightly. “You’re not just Red Riot. You’re not just ‘the unbreakable hero.’ You’re the guy who stays late after missions to make sure everyone else gets home safe. The guy who buys extra snacks because you know Bakugou won’t eat unless someone makes him. The guy who memorizes every intern’s name so they feel like they belong.”

Kirishima blinked, caught off guard. “You… noticed all that?”

“Of course I did.” Your voice softened. “Because I see you, Eijirou. The real you.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. His expression shifted, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. Then, before you could react, he reached up, his hand cupping the side of your face.

The warmth of his palm sent a jolt through you, like the first crack of lightning splitting the sky.

“You always do that,” he murmured.

“Do what?” you asked, voice quieter now.

“See past the mask.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine, though you weren’t sure if it was from the cold rain or the way he was looking at you—like you were something solid, something grounding, something he didn’t have to pretend around.

The rain fell harder now, soaking through your hero uniforms, drenching your hair, but neither of you moved. You weren’t sure if you wanted to.

Then, just as Kirishima opened his mouth to say something else, your earpiece crackled to life.

“Tempest, Red Riot, we have an emergency downtown. Multiple hostages. High-powered villain. Report in immediately.”

The moment between you shattered like glass.

Kirishima pulled back, his expression shifting—not hidden, but focused. He was still him, still raw and uncertain, but this was what he did best.

You pushed your damp hair out of your face, standing up. “Let’s go.”

He hesitated for half a second before nodding, rising to his feet beside you.

Whatever had just passed between you would have to wait.

The storm had broken—and the world still needed its heroes.

---

The city was chaos by the time you arrived.

Neon lights reflected off the slick pavement, distorted by the rain. Civilians had been evacuated to the edges of the streets, their panicked whispers blending with the wail of sirens. The hostage situation was centered in a high-rise bank, shattered glass littering the ground outside.

You and Kirishima landed in sync, the rush of wind from your quirk kicking up debris as you scanned the scene.

“Tempest, Red Riot, we have three hostiles inside,” the lead officer briefed you quickly. “They’ve got a quirk-enhanced barricade, and we believe at least two of them have combat abilities. The hostages are being held on the upper floors.”

Kirishima cracked his knuckles, his expression sharp. “Got it. We’ll handle it.”

You nodded, raising a hand to the sky. The storm above rumbled in response, the air shifting as you pulled at the wind, gathering pressure in your palms.

A deep voice from inside the building called out before you could make a move.

“Well, well. Look who showed up.”

A figure stepped into view through the broken windows. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and covered in jagged, crystalline armor that pulsed with an eerie red light. You recognized him instantly—Breakneck, a high-tier villain with a strength-enhancing quirk that made his body as hard as diamond.

He grinned, his eyes locking onto Kirishima. “Red Riot. Been looking forward to this.”

Kirishima tensed beside you, his jaw clenching. “You know me?”

“Everyone knows you,” Breakneck sneered. “The unbreakable hero, right? Let’s put that to the test.”

Without warning, he lunged.

Kirishima barely had time to harden his body before Breakneck’s fist collided with his torso. The impact sent a shockwave through the street, cracking the pavement beneath Kirishima’s feet as he slid backward.

You reacted instantly, launching a powerful gust of wind to break the momentum, sending Breakneck stumbling. Raising your arms, you called the storm to you, lightning crackling in your fingertips.

“I’ll handle the hostages,” you told Kirishima. “You keep him busy.”

He nodded, shaking off the hit. “Be careful.”

You didn’t waste time responding—within seconds, you shot upward, weaving through shattered windows as you raced toward the upper floors.

The hostages were bound near the back of the room, their eyes wide with fear. Two more villains guarded them, one with a quirk that generated explosive pulses and another with enhanced reflexes. They turned the second you landed.

“You guys are really making this difficult,” you muttered. Then, with a flick of your wrist, the air pressure in the room dropped.

The sudden vacuum knocked both villains off balance as they gasped for breath. You surged forward, wind twisting around your form, striking with a precise kick that sent the first one flying into the wall. The second tried to counter, but you were faster, weaving through their attacks like a current slipping through cracks.

With a powerful gust, you slammed them both to the ground.

“Stay down,” you ordered, voice sharp.

You turned to the hostages, using the edge of a sharp air current to slice through their restraints. “Get out of here. Now.”

They nodded frantically, scrambling toward the exit. You ensured they were clear before rushing back down—only to find Kirishima locked in a brutal fight.

Breakneck was strong. Too strong.

Even with his quirk, Kirishima was struggling, his hardened body cracking under the force of the villain’s relentless attacks. But he wasn’t giving up. He never did.

You clenched your fists. He doesn’t always have to do this alone.

Summoning every ounce of your power, you reached for the storm. Thunder roared in response, lightning dancing between the clouds before you redirected it—channeling the energy straight into your fist.

Then, like a lightning strike breaking through stone, you struck.

The impact hit Breakneck square in the chest, sending an electric current surging through his body. He spasmed, his crystalline armor flickering with unstable energy before shattering on impact.

Kirishima didn’t hesitate. With a final, devastating punch, he sent Breakneck crashing into the pavement, unconscious.

Silence.

Then, as the rain continued to pour, Kirishima turned to you—soaked, breathing hard, but smiling.

“You really saved my ass back there.”

You smirked, the storm still humming in your veins. “Told you. You’re not unbreakable, Eijirou. You don’t have to be.”

Something flickered in his gaze—something softer than battle, stronger than words.

Maybe, just maybe, he was finally starting to believe it.

---

The rain had slowed by the time the fight ended.

The moment Breakneck hit the ground, the tension in the air dissolved. The villain lay unconscious, his shattered armor glinting under the city lights. Sirens wailed in the distance, signaling the arrival of backup. The civilians were safe. The job was done.

But Kirishima wasn’t moving.

You turned to him, breath still uneven, feeling the residual crackle of lightning in your veins. “Eijirou,” you called softly.

He was staring at his hands.

Knuckles bruised. Faint cracks running along his hardened skin. Evidence of the battle. Evidence that, no matter how much he told himself otherwise, he wasn’t unbreakable.

“I was losing,” he murmured, voice barely audible over the rain.

You stepped closer. “But you didn’t.”

He let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “Because you were here. Because you saved me.”

You frowned. “And what’s wrong with that?”

His jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists. “Heroes are supposed to be strong. People look up to us. They trust us to protect them, to be unshakable. And if I can’t even—”

“Stop.”

Your voice was sharp, cutting through the storm in his head. He looked at you, startled.

You met his gaze, firm and unwavering. “You keep saying ‘heroes are supposed to be strong.’ ‘Heroes are supposed to be unshakable.’ But Eijirou—heroes are just people.”

He inhaled sharply, as if the words physically struck him.

You softened slightly, stepping even closer. “People don’t follow you because you’re unbreakable,” you continued. “They follow you because you don’t give up. Because you care. Because you fight even when it hurts. That’s what makes you strong. Not your quirk. You.”

For a long moment, he just stared at you, red eyes searching yours.

Then, slowly, the tension in his shoulders eased. He let out a breath—deep, steadying. Something in him seemed to shift, as if the weight he had been carrying for so long had finally begun to lift.

“You always do that,” he murmured, echoing the words he had spoken on the rooftop.

You tilted your head. “Do what?”

“See me.”

The rain had slowed to a drizzle now, the storm passing, but the world around you felt impossibly still. His gaze softened, his lips parting slightly as if there was more he wanted to say.

You felt your heart skip.

Then, with a small, quiet smile, Kirishima reached out—hesitant at first, then surer—his fingers brushing against yours.

Warm. Solid. Real.

Maybe he wasn’t unbreakable.

But standing here, beside you, he didn’t have to be.

---

The End.

[poetlus]

“WHAT KINDA QUIRK IS THAT?” — katsuki bakugo x dragon!reader hcs

i fucking LOVE making up quirks. this was so fun. requested by mon coeur @sepptember ! i made reader a little insecure about their quirk,,,oops. established relationship w katsuki cus why nottt???

quirks often changed a person’s appearance, so it really wasn’t a shock to anyone that you had a big tail, horns, and wings.

it was just second nature; however, that didn’t matter to you.

in your eyes, you looked different than everybody else, and you hated it.

your childhood reinforced your insecurity even more. you were often placed at the back of the class because of your wings, kids were scared to play with you because of your horns and sharp teeth and the scaly parts of your skin.

as you aged, though, you learned to deal with it. you were still insecure about it, but less so. now that you were accepted into UA, you had a goal to work towards. there was no time for silly worries. you were officially training to become a hero.

that was before you met katsuki, though.

after meeting him, falling in love, and getting together with him, he became your priority. and you, his.

when you and katsuki got together, he was sooo overprotective of you

he would jump to your defense if he even thought someone was picking on you.

he constantly told you not to worry about those extras, how they were just jealous they weren’t going to be a cool hero like you were going to be.

he is ALWAYS secretly touching you, whether its rubbing your wing, resting his hand on your tail, etc.

sometimes it’s not so secret. when you get too far ahead of him when youre walking together he’ll grab it and yank it lightly

think’s the scaley parts of ur skin are cool, every time his hands get too warm from his explosions, he lays his palm on them, u instinctively lean into the warmth

also talks about how your teeth are like kiri’s, and questions how bad it hurts when you bite your tongue

also you fucking breathe fire??? he says youre copying him when you do so, but he actually thinks its the coolest part of your quirk

to be fair, hes kinda biased towards ppl with fire quirks

[numberonekingdomprince]

Yn 'Demon' Ln

Yn Ln is 14 (season 1) and is in class 1a. He is tall for his age but his longer than normal arms make him look taller. His hair is YHC and YHL (Your hair length), his eyes are a bright YEC he is half British, and his father relocated to Japan in his early 20s for a job opportunity. He was a pro-hero for 30 years before an injury took him out of the game, and his birth mother is from Northern Japan.

Yn’s quirk is a fire-based one, he’s able to create fire from any part of his body or out of thin air and is able to control it however his quirk is very emotion base and if he shows extreme emotion, i.e sadness or anger, it’ll encase he’s whole body within the flame, and depending on how extreme or what emotion he is showing then it’ll change temperature, to combat this his body products a fire resistance protein within his sweat, however, if this is to be produced then Yn has to stay hydrated having to consume a minimum of 4L per day. And in some cases, it’s been reported that he was able to breathe fire, but it has yet to be confirmed.

Yn also has a ‘physical’ quirk which is him having two black wings on his back and a long tail, from afar his wings look to be made from scales, even though they are feathers. Yn’s legs are very bird-like, meaning he has talons and cannot wear shoes without them causing him pain.

Due to his looks and fire quirk, he was given the nickname ‘Demon’ by his father and stepmother and he made that name his hero name.

Yn lives with his father, David Ln, who has his ‘physical’ quirk but has the wing pattern of a magpie bird, and his stepmother, Lin Ln, who is quirkless. He has two other siblings, one older (25 s1) who is a pro-hero 14 called ‘Angel’ and has her fathers quirk but her wings are pure white her true name being Rin Ln (her birth mother being the same as Yn’s) she doesn't live with him and lives with her wife,  and he as a younger brother named Jin Ln (7) he is the son of Lin and David and has his father’s quirk his wings being a light brown however his wings are too small for his body therefore he’ll never be able to fly.

Yn’s birth mother is Aika Sota who has a family fire quirk being distant relatives to the Todoroki family, however, she has been arrested due to her treatment towards Yn and Rin using B-26 muzzles on the two causing scarring on the sides of Yn’s mouth from when he ripped it off his face several times. If you have any more questions on this case, speak to Lady Midnight as she dealt with this back when he was 10.

Strengths: Strength, stealth (silent flyer), ability to focus on things over 2 miles away, hearing, control over emotions (to an extent).

Weakness: Speeds over 100mph, struggles to focus/see things short range, social interactions, doesn’t drink enough water, struggles to trust older women due to his experiences with his birth mother, impulsive with directions, when an emotional outburst occurs can cause great injury to himself and others -HIGHLY DANGEROUS-.

If you wish to learn more about him or want his complete file please contact his homeroom teacher Mr Shota Aizawa or myself.

AN: What year do you want this to take place in? Casue I googled and it came up with 2016 (the year season 1 aired) and then 2100's so which should I do?

[seumyo]

imagine how heavy bakugou’s gauntlets are to you.

You weren’t entirely sure what you had done to deserve this.

Maybe you had done something awful in your past life, and it’s finally come to bite you back in the ass.

Sure, you were a UA student. Sure, you had signed up for the hero course, fully aware that it would involve combat training. But this? Holding onto one of Bakugou’s gauntlets—the same gauntlets that had nearly blown Midoriya through a building during the first battle exercise?

You could already see your funeral.

Your relatives all coming together under one roof to mourn you.

Your fingers curled stiffly around the massive piece of equipment, your right arm straining slightly under its sheer weight. You had always known they were heavy—Bakugou’s combat style revolved around explosive power, and he wasn’t the type to wield anything flimsy—but this?

This felt like holding a compact boulder.

A boulder filled with nitroglycerin-laced sweat.

That part was arguably worse.

It’s like lifting a weight that never really lightens over time.

Your mind raced with the implications.

His gauntlets stored his sweat to maximize explosive output. Which meant the one you were holding was loaded. Which meant if you even thought about holding it wrong, you’d be gone. Reduced to nothing but a crisp outline on the ground.

Holding an explosive hazard had never been part of your bucket list.

You could not channel your inner Meredith Grey and take one for the team to hold a bomb.

“I—” you started, your voice thin and weak. “I don’t think I should be holding this.”

Bakugou, standing in front of you with his arms crossed, narrowed his eyes. “And why the hell not?”

Because it was a bomb, for starters.

Because it was his bomb, specifically made for him, and you had just been handed it like it was some casual training exercise and not a potential death sentence.

Instead of voicing any of this, you swallowed hard and said, “I—I just don’t think I’m qualified? Don’t I need to have a seminar for this? Maybe a safety waiver?”

Bakugou scoffed. “That’s bullshit.”

Your grip tightened reflexively.

Oh god, was that too tight?

Was it going to go off?

Bakugou’s eyes flicked down to your hands, then back to your face. “Your Quirk makes shit weightless and indestructible, right?”

You nodded hesitantly.

“Then you’re the best person to hold it,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“But—”

“No buts,” he interrupted. “You wanna play defense all the time? Fine. But in the real world, you need to learn how to hit back. Can’t stand your damsel-in-distress act every situation, shithead.”

You bit your lip.

He wasn’t wrong, but… you had seen firsthand how much destruction his Quirk could cause. He had gone all out against Midoriya back then, using these very same gauntlets to unleash a massive blast that almost ruptured an entire building. You hadn’t even been in the fight, but you had felt the heat from a distance and had heard the deafening roar of the explosions echoing across the control room.

And now you were the one holding it.

“…It’s not gonna explode on me, right?” you asked.

Bakugou rolled his eyes so hard you were surprised they didn’t get stuck.

“Not unless you’re stupid.”

That wasn’t reassuring.

Not at all.

You swallowed again, forcing yourself to focus. You weren’t completely helpless. Your Quirk made whatever you held weightless and invincible. If you activated it now, you wouldn’t have to worry about the gauntlet’s weight—or about dropping it by accident and, in turn, detonating it.

Taking a deep breath, you firmly held the gauntlet with both hands.

The effect was immediate.

The heaviness vanished entirely, replaced by a strange, almost floating sensation. Your fingers adjusted around the gauntlet’s surface with ease, no longer struggling against its weight. A faint, translucent glow coated the edges, a telltale sign that your Quirk had fully activated.

You exhaled, relieved.

“Okay. I think I got it.”

Bakugou smirked. “Took you long enough.” He stepped in close without warning, his hands reaching for your wrists.

You barely had time to react before his grip closed around them, adjusting your stance.

Your brain blanked.

Bakugou was close. Too close.

You could feel the heat radiating off him, his fingers strong and sure as they repositioned your hold. He smelled like sweat and burnt caramel—like fire and something sharper underneath, something distinctly him.

(You tried not to think about it too much.)

If you hadn’t already been panicking about the gauntlet, you definitely were now.

(You were falling—ahem, failing at not thinking too much about it.)

“Loosen up,” he said, his breath ghosting over your ear. “You’re gripping it like it’s a fucking live grenade.”

“Isn’t it, though?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

He grinned.

Oh no.

That was a bad sign.

“Not yet,” he said, sounding far too entertained. “But it will be.”

You let out a strangled noise.

Bakugou ignored it, stepping behind you so that you were completely boxed in by his presence. His hands remained firm on yours, his chest nearly pressing against your back as he guided your aim.

Your brain was screaming.

It wasn’t like you were new to close contact—UA training often involved being thrown around by classmates—but this was different. This was Bakugou Katsuki, infamous for his temper and even more explosive Quirk, pressed up against you like it was nothing. Like you weren’t about to spontaneously combust just from the sheer proximity.

Maybe you were thinking too much into it.

“Alright,” he murmured, tilting your wrists slightly. “On my mark, let go.”

You nodded weakly, hoping he couldn’t feel how fast your pulse was racing.

“Three…”

You swallowed.

“Two…”

Oh god.

“One.”

You released, letting your left hand fall, Quirk disabling instantly as the barrier lightened.

The explosion erupted in an instant, the force slamming through the air like a shockwave. The ground trembled beneath them, a scorching heatwave blasting outward as the impact roared across the training field.

You barely had time to process any of it before you felt yourself lurching backward, the recoil throwing you off balance—

Strong arms wrapped around your waist, anchoring you firmly in place.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Bakugou had caught you.

His grip was solid, his chest firm against your back, keeping you steady against the sheer force of the explosion. His hand pressed against your stomach, holding you still as the last remnants of the blast dissipated into the air.

For a second, neither of you moved.

...

It was bad enough that you had just fired one of his gauntlets, but now you were in his arms? With his hand on your waist?

Man, maybe you should’ve been the gauntlet’s target instead.

Bakugou didn’t say anything at first, just exhaled through his nose before slowly releasing you, letting you find your footing again.

You stumbled slightly.

He steadied you with a single hand on your shoulder. “You good?”

You turned to look at him, still in too much shock to form a proper response. “Y—eah?” you replied after a moment.

Bakugou raised a brow. Then, to your absolute horror, his lips curled into an infuriating smirk. “Tch. Dumbass,” he says. “Not too bad, eh?”

“I could’ve died.”

“Nah.”

“I’m scared that you’re carrying heavy weight—bombs around like it doesn’t weigh a ton.”

A shrug. “Training.”

Your hands were still clammy.

Probably not from fear anymore.

“You wanna try using the other one?” he offered, surprising you and himself, really.

...

“Yeah. Fuck yeah, let’s do it.”

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[skymar13]

Big beefy blondes who don’t understand that you’re not like their hand that can take several loads and poundings.

Rough blondes who try to go soft on you but can’t not bustle their tip greedily into your sopping cunt

Sexually frustrated blondes who don’t let you go until you’re a crying mess, well maybe one more after that.

Sweet hearted blondes who give you the best after care after they just split your tiny pussy down the middle.

Bakugo katsuki, mirio togata, keigo takami, denki kaminari, Allmight

Aged up!

[saturnzlv]

coffee

— parings: todoroki touya x reader

— notes: mature language

— synopsis: when you’ve never given your barista your actual name, so you make a mini game out of it

[sqtorux]

thinking about possessive!yuta who tells you that you can see curses because you're special and he fights them off to protect you.

possessive!yuta who realises you could use the reversed cursed technique but activating it would require your lips to touch your benefactor.

possessive!yuta who keeps your cursed technique a secret even from yourself because he doesn't want you to kiss anyone else even at the expense of their life.

possessive!yuta who says your kisses heals his injuries and that you're all he needs.

possessive!yuta who has rct mastered to the core still comes to you with minor injuries just so he could feel your cursed technique running through veins and within his soul.

possessive!yuta who loves mixing the traces of your cursed energy with his, he feigns innocence when you ask about your things which have been disappearing.

possessive!yuta who just can't have enough of you even though he has you in the palm of his hands.

[rumisgf]

“two a.m.”

“you never gotten head before?”

you stared as denki titled his head in genuine surprise. you shrug, almost embarrassed. though he views you as some hot babe, no guy ever really cared to put your pleasure in consideration– they only really just wanted to get their nut off.

but he was different. i mean you’re his whole word , who is he to not please you?

“y- you don’t have to if you don’t-”

your words were cut off as his hands continue to make their way to your panties. you gulped, watching him pull them down. he looks back up at you, aching for your approval.

“i want to.”

“….okay.”

he gives you a desperate, patient kiss. it tastes sweet on your lips until he pulls away, eager to give you all you’ve been missing and everything you deserve

his hands discard off the fabric covering your wetness. he teases your clit with his thumb, earning a whine filled with desperation spilling out your swollen lips. he smiles, then attacks it with a soft glide of his tongue.

“k-kami…”

“shhhh, i got you.”

you throw your head back into the pillow beneath it, gasping as he sucks at the sensitive nub. his tongue dances in circles on your clit, your slick staining his chin.

“more.. p-please..”

he hums against your cunny as he slides a finger into your entrance. your body jolts and he only uses his free hand to push your hips back onto his mattress.

“slow down baby, let me take care of you. *slrrp* ‘m gonna make you cum all over my face.”

@ rumisgf

[miryum]

Simon Riley has a lot of weird little quirks that I couldn’t fit in any other fic idea

Simon Riley knows how to braid hair and braid it well. French, Dutch, fishtail, anything you wanted. Little tiny braids didn’t deter him either. He would sit on the couch, you standing or sitting between his thick thighs and glare silently in concentration as he braided your hair. He’s also able to pick up any hairstyle real easily. Show him some inspiration on Pinterest and he’ll be able to replicate it almost perfectly. Simon isn’t as good at buns because he can’t quite get how to twist his wrist just right, but give him a strand of hair and he loves to weave it between his fingers. It makes him feel close to you and he is so proud when you wear the braid all throughout the day

Simon Riley folds laundry with military precision and gets a little miffed if you fold the laundry wrong. He literally grumbles and mutters to himself and then re-folds the entire load. He tries to show you how to fold it, but you don’t care as much as him, so he just does it himself. Laundry and the majority of the cleaning goes to Simon because as much as he has qualms about the way you do laundry, don’t even get him started on the way you attempt to clean the house. It’s better for everyone if he just does it

Simon Riley likes to rub his face over your pillow. Especially before or after deployment, he’s like a cat. He circles your pillow in his beefy arms and just presses his cheek to it again and again. It’s like he’s scenting it so that when he goes away, you won’t forget him. You think it’s absolutely adorable and you like to scratch at his hair as he does it

Simon Riley has very strong opinions about Christmas lights. He likes to put them up every year because he grew up Catholic (though he’s now an atheist) and it reminds him of his childhood. He doesn’t really care whether the lights are all white or different colours, but he cannot stand it if they blink. It’s much too annoying and busy and he thinks it’s a cry for attention. It also doesn’t help that sometimes he sees them out of the corner of his eye and the red ones look like the lights on a bomb or the green ones like the call signal on a radio

Simon Riley likes to buy you jewellery. He likes to buy anything and everything that he thinks will look pretty on you. When he finds something with little birds on it, he can’t help but splurge because you’re his Birdie and he loves you

Simon Riley is really good at most any sport, you name it. Rugby, basketball, baseball, American football, the list goes on and on. But put a gun to his head and tell him to score a goal for football and he would take the bullet. There’s really no explanation for it. One could blame it on his utter behemoth size, but he’s able to dribble the basketball or swing at the baseball hurtling towards him, but his feet just trip over themselves as he tries to get the bloody football down the field. He hates that little black and white ball with a burning passion

Simon Riley who is actually pretty involved in the VA. He doesn’t go out and advocate for more funding or anything, but if he sees a homeless veteran, he definitely guides them in the right direction. He goes there once a week just to catch up with everyone. You think it’s very healthy that he’s establishing a community for himself and he really enjoys it – you can see it in his eyes after he comes home Simon Riley who needs to sleep on the couch sometimes after deployment. It’s not that he doesn’t want to hold you close, but the mattress is sometimes a bit too soft for him after sleeping on the ground or in a hard cot for weeks on end. You usually end up joining him, just splaying out on his chest. After a night or two, he returns to his place in the bed, holding you close

Simon Riley has the 141 insignia tattooed on his bicep and then the numbers on his chest. He was going to put the numbers over his heart, but, a week before his appointment, he had met you and some little part of him told him to move the tattoo up three inches. He was very glad he decided to move it because a year later he had gotten your initials with a little bird tattooed right over his heart

[socksdoeswrites]

how about mha boys smau with reader whose ex is stalking her socials

a/n: hello! here you gooooo

parings: mha men x female!reader.

tags/warnings: regular au, aged up characters, your ex is a creeper!, mentions of fighting, annnnd i think that’s all:)

——

enjooooy!!

——

[nepenthendline]

a/n: todoroki feeling horny for the first time, no smut but can do a pt 2?

Todoroki had been much clingier than usual today, like a cat somehow always slinking his was close to you. Most of your day was spent cuddling on his couch watching documentaries, and his grip on you was tight. Whenever you shuffled or got up to grab a drink or snack, you could see the little pout on his lips as he held his arms out to you and asked where you were going. He was so cute like this, but it was a little different than usual.

"You ok, baby?" You ask, cupping his cheeks in your hands once you settled back into his arms. He pondered for a moment,

'Yes, I think, but I feel a little...off,' his response was quiet, and his fingers continued to brush over your waist. Your head tilted slightly, looking over him for any obvious signs of pain or sickness,

"In what way?" His eyes looked off to the side - you could almost hear the cogs turning in his head as he tried to put his feelings into words.

"I feel... warmer than usual, my muscles feel tense, sometimes it feels like I'm struggling to breathe, and there's a...weird feeling in my stomach. Perhaps I'm getting sick," you let put an exaggerated pout as you combed your fingers through his hair before kissing his forehead - he did feel quite warm, but there was no fever.

"My poor baby," you stroked his cheeks in urge to comfort him, however, his face tensed under your touch, and he let out a hum.

"That..." he muttered, more to himself than to you. He brought one hand to his chin in thought, " I thought resting today with you would help my symptoms, but they seem to be getting worse," your brows furrowed at his words, but your urged him to continue. "Well, worse, but also better. The symptoms are stronger, but having you close makes me feel relieved in a way." You couldn't help but smile. Even whilst sick, he was still adorable. What he said next, however, surprised you.

"Feel like...I need you, even though you're already here. Feels like you're not close enough,' he murmured into his hand, still looking away.

Oh-OH. You started giggling in response - the two of you had been together for a few months, but you knew Shoto hadn't had any relationships before you. In fact, he often reminded you that you were the first person to ever make him feel the way he does.

His eyes darted back to you with confusion taking over his face. "Have you felt like this before?" You question with a grin. His eyes wavered, before nodding.

"Yes, although the symptoms weren't as strong as now. Like when you were cooking the other day in those cute pajamas, or on our date last week, and when you kiss me," he was clueless. He thought he was sick and yet every memory included you. Your giggles continued.

"Yeah? Well, I can tell you that you're not sick," his eyes widened slightly, nodding for you to continue, "you're horny, my love." He let out a quiet ah and sat in silence for a moment before speaking up.

"Like Mineta..." his deapan voice made you cackle, even though you knew he was trying to gauge his feelings by comparing them to something else. "Except, I only feel like this with you," your cheeks warmed at his words. He's always been a charmer, mostly by accident. He speaks what is on his mind so bluntly, and yet it never ceases to fluster you. You lean forward and press a soft kiss on his lips.

"I can make you feel better if you'd like?" His eyes burned into yours as he rested his forehead against yours. After a few moments, he spoke,

"Yes, please."

[kiribakuswife]

Love Thy Neighbor

Shouta Aizawa x Reader

Kinktober day 14!!

There was something weird about your next door neighbor. You had moved in about a month ago, and every interaction you had was not exactly what you had imagined. It was a small neighborhood, and you had gotten close with nearly every other neighbor around you; everyone besides the grumpy man next door.

It started your first day after moving in. Ever the hostess, you decided to bring cookies to all of your neighbors, sort of as an introduction sort of thing. It went great until you reached the last house in your loop, smiling brightly with your last batch of cookies as you knocked on the door. Your smile didn’t falter as the door opened slowly, revealing an exhausted looking man. You had to admit to yourself he was quite handsome, hair pulled back as his blank expression looked down at you.

“Hi!” You said, “I just wanted to introduce myself! I just moved in next door, my name’s (y/n).” You beamed at him as his eyes followed your thumb pointing to your house. “I brought these for you.” You continued, holding out the tray for him. He stared down at it briefly before looking back to you with a quizzical look.

“Why?” He asked, with a brow raised. You flattered for only a second, stumbling over your words. You had thought it was pretty normal. No one else had questioned you.

“Um, as a welcome, I guess?” Your response sounded more like a question, even to your own ears, causing you to cringe internally as his heavy gaze watched you intently.

“I don’t take food from strangers.” Was all he said, closing the door gently in your face, causing you to defleat, both with embarrassment and relief that his stupidly captivating eyes were no longer on you.

The next time you saw him, you were outside planting flowers, trying to add some light into your incredibly bare front yard. He was leaving the house in a suit, looking far more put together from the last time you saw him. His hair was brushed back off his forehead, allowing you to get a good look at him this time as you squinted up at him from below your sun hat. He was clean shaven this time, a scar under his eyes, pulling you in a way you didn’t want to think about.

“Hi neighbor!” You called, waving at him. He seemed to pause for a moment, startled by your voice. He waved a hand awkwardly in your direction, as you stood, wiping your hands on your apron before making your way over to the waist high fence that separated your yard. “I never got your name.” You prompted, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand.

“Shouta.” He provided plainly, squinting at you as he went to open the door to his car. “You have dirt on your face, (y/n).” Your face flamed as he got into the car, driving off as you watched, gaping. You weren’t sure if the blush was from embarrassment from smearing dirt on your face or from the fact that he had actually remembered your name.

The fact that he had actually remembered your name spurred you on though. You didn’t have to be best friends, but you were determined to at least develop some sort of acquaintance ship with him. The type of relationship where you wouldn’t feel bad if you had to ask him for a cup of sugar or something. 

It had continued on like that for a few weeks, a few words here and there as you passed each other. His hours were weird, typically working throughout the day, concluding he might have been a teacher or something, but every so often he wouldn’t come home until late in the evening, headlights shining through your window as you curled on the couch. It wasn’t like you were stalking him, you worked from home, your office window looking out onto the street. It wasn’t like you were trying to learn more about him than the little bit you had pulled out from your brief conversations. It wasn’t like you were interested in him or anything. Nothing like that.

The summer had turned into fall, morphing into winter as snow began to fall outside the window. He was home today, sort of confirming your teacher theory as the news droned in the background, calling out the cancellation of certain schools due to the weather. With the weather as nasty as it was, you decided it was time to bake. The warmth of a fresh out of the oven pie as the snow piled outside your window was a feeling next to nothing and you smiled to yourself as you pulled ingredients out of the cabinets. 

You had everything you needed for a pumpkin pie, everything except the eggs. You grimaced as you looked outside. The snow was only piling higher, and even if you did trust your car to get to the store without sliding off the road into a ditch, you would have to unearth it from the snow to even start the drive. A pie was not worth that effort,deciding today was going to be a lazy day as soon as you woke. As you looked outside weighing your options, your eyes suddenly flicked next door. Shouta! He was sure to at least have two eggs!

You rushed to the door, pulling on a jacket, boots, a hat and a scarf before throwing the door open. The chill from  the wind ripped into you as you marched down your drive and up his. You regretted not grabbing a pair of gloves as your hands shook, red as you knocked on his door. He sure took his time coming, shivering on his porch as he swung the door open, almost looking concerned as he took you in.

“Are you alright, (y/n)? What are you doing out here?” He questioned before you could speak, brows pulled together as he scanned you over.

“Hello Shouta!” You smiled at him, “I’ve come to ask if I could pretty please borrow two eggs.” You asked, placing your hands together and squeezing your eyes shut. He said nothing as you waited, cracking an eye open.

“You braved this shit for two eggs?” He asked, opening up the door further, gesturing you inside. “Come in, I’ll grab them.”

“Thank you!” You cheered, following him inside as he grunted out a reply, moving deeper into the house as you bounced on your toes by the closed door, trying to warm up. His home was sort of what you had expected, clean and quite minimal as you looked around. It seemed cozy though, a fire burning in the fireplace and a book placed open on the table, a blanket pooled on the couch. You almost felt bad for bothering him as he approached from the kitchen, eggs in hand.

“Ah, thank you! I owe you!” You smiled up at him as he held them out to you. “I’m making a pumpkin pie, I’ll bring you some!” You decided as he nodded.

“Perhaps wait until after the storm to come back out.” He said, and you could have sworn you saw a hint of a smile across his face.

“Only because you said so,” You winked at him, pulling your scarf tighter as you turned to the door. “Thank you again, Shouta. I totally owe you.” You added with a wave as you exited, braving the cold as you hustled back home, a stay warm! Echoing behind you.

You had seen less of him in the days following the storm. The streets had been cleared, and the only interaction you had actually had was the plate left on your doorstep with a note saying “Pie was great. Thank you.” Maybe it was the end of the grading period, you reasoned as you looked outside. He was gone before you woke in the morning, and didn’t get home until way late in the night. You almost missed the little waves he had started sending in your direction as he drove off in the morning, or the small conversations you had as you conveniently had to take the trash out as he pulled in.

You shut off your computer with a sigh, heading into the kitchen to scrounge together a dinner of whatever little bits of foods you could find in the fridge, leaning against the counter as you scrolled on your phone. You nearly jumped out of your skin as a stern knock rang out, banging on your door. It was dark outside, nerves setting in as you read the time. It was nearly midnight, no reason for anyone to be knocking. You glanced out the window as you approached the door cautiously. Shouta had gotten home at some point, and you hoped that if something happened and you screamed loud enough he would at least call the police for you.

The knock came again as you grabbed the knob, honestly starting to get annoyed with whoever was on the other side. If they were banging on your door at midnight, they could at least have some patience. You nearly fell back as you swung the door open at the sight before you. Shouta stood on your porch, breathing heavily as he stared into your soul.

“(y/n) I-” He cut himself off, shaking his head, “I’m so sorry to bother you, I don’t know what’s come over me.” he shrank into the shadows of your porch, stepping back as his nose flared.

“What happened, are you alright?” You rushed out, reaching a hand out to grab his arm as he stumbled back further. He was dressed differently, all back with a heavy looking belt, a gray scarf wrapped tight around him. He shook his head again, trying to pull his arm away before freezing as he looked down at you. You squirmed in his gaze, you hadn’t even thought to throw on a jacket or something over your thin tank top as you opened the door, chills going through your skin at the icy air, nipples hardening to a point.

“Did you mean it?” His voice was low, almost a whisper as you shook your head, not having a clue what he was talking about, “When you said you owed me.” He explained, grabbing onto your own arm, embarrassingly making you lean into him. His words sent a spark through you, a spark you had been trying to snuff out since you first stood on his doorstep offering him cookies.

“Of course.” You mumbled out, eyes caught in his own.

“I was hit with a quirk.” He explained, guiding you back into your open doorway. “But I promise you, this is not just because of the quirk.” he slammed your door shut behind him, dragging you further into your house. He looked around, finally pulling you up the stairs. “Room?” he asked suddenly, whipping around to you.

“Room? What? What is going on?” Your head spun, gesturing to a door down the hall anyway.

“Can I fuck you?” he asked bluntly as he dragged you through the doorway, causing you to choke. 

“Well I’m not going to say no.” You laughed awkwardly. You wouldn’t lie to yourself, you had fantasized about him in your bed more than once, and you were going to take the chance if it presented itself to you his words of it’s not just because of the quirk echoing in your mind. “What do you mean by the quirk what happened?” You questioned, breath catching as he pulled you close, hands sliding under your shirt as his lips fell on your neck.

“Stupid fucking sex quirk.” He breathed out, “Makes you irresistibly horny for the one you’re most attracted to.” His words made you flush, suddenly feeling almost too hot as he lifted you, legs coming around his waist as he led you to the bed.

“Most attracted to?” You squeaked as he dropped you, soon coming back and capturing your lips on his own as a response. Your shirt was fully pushed up now, his hands cupping your breasts in a way that had you moaning into his mouth.

“I’ll tell you everything later.” He huffed out as he pulled back, a heavy gaze falling down to watch as he massaged your boobs. “I’m sorry if I came off as rude.” He continued, pulling your shirt over your head, his own following. “You make me-” He cut himself off with a groan as he ground against you, causing you to arch into him. “Fucking insane.” he finished, pulling back to yank off your shorts.

“In a good way?” You asked, trying for a joke but failing as you moaned out, his fingers sliding along your entrance.

“The best way.” He answered, sliding a finger inside and curling it, your hips bucking. He added another finger, easing you open. “I won’t be able to be gentle with you.” he sighed out, almost sounding disappointed as he pulled his fingers out, causing you to whine at the loss.

“I never said I wanted you to be.” You whispered out, watching as a smug grin split his face as he leaned back, pulling down his pants.

His cock was incredibly hard, almost looking painful as he looked down at you below him, stripped bare, legs spread wide and cheeks flushed. “You’re irresistible, you know that.” he cooed down at you, hair falling in his face as he looked down, guiding his cock to slide along your core. You groaned at the sensation, breaking out into a high pitched moan as he slid in roughly, entirely in one motion. 

His pace was almost brutal as he gripped your hips, pinning you to the bed as you cried out below him. “Look at you…” He said, brushing your hair back from your face as he grunted, “Just letting me in to fuck you.” You cried out at his words, your moans filling your empty halls. Your brain had officially left your body as you melted into him, pliant in whatever he wanted from you.

Your voice only raised in volume as his hand snaked down between you, finding your clit and rubbing with a brutality that matched his thrust, the pleasure almost making it hard to breathe. You felt the pressure increase, and knew you were close, far closer than you imagined. He leaned down, sucking harshly at your nipple, and with that you were done, nearly screaming his name as you came around him. He moaned at the feeling, hips stuttering before pulling out suddenly, grasping his cock in his hand, and with a few jerky movements he was cumming too, painting your skin with thick ropes.

He held his eyes tightly shut as he came, stilling above you. He looked like a god in this light, and for this moment he was yours. “I’ll grab you a towel.” He murmured, finally pulling away from you. Your eyes followed him as he left the room, brain finally deciding to reconnect as you asked yourself what the fuck just happened?

[tiedsh0es]

My favourite pose of his

[skymar13]

OMGAAA QUEEN, CAN YOU PLEASE DO SOMETHING ABOUT BAKUGOU ESPECIALLY “Class sweetheart x class hot head” SMUT? I WOULD REALLY LOVE THATTT, YOUR WRITE SO GOOODDD AHHHHH🫶🏻

my first request🙏🙏 and yes I can.

: smut MDI all characters aged up!

Class hot head x class sweetheart

Bakugo katsuki x virgin!fem!reader

TW : hardcore, dom bakugo, orgasm denial/ multiple orgasms, oral (male receiving) unprotected sex (pls wrap it) and probably others but it’s smut so you know

Not proof read bc im scared to read it

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

You’re just so sweet. He couldn’t help but ruin you. He wanted to take that stupid smile off of your beautiful face.

You were too sweet for your own good always smiling at people giving them sweet compliments he had to teach you a lesson. He pounded into you with fast snaps of the hips going impossibly deeper stretching you farther than your fingers ever could.

You let out moans and gasps as he licked your right nipple his hand that wasn’t circling your clit massaged your left breast. It was all too much for you.

“I’m- I’m-gonna come-“ you tried saying he stopped moving his hips making you let out a whine. “Don’t you dare. You cum when I tell you to and I’m not done.” He knew he was being mean. But you needed it you needed to be taught a lesson on being mean. He moved at a rougher pace sending your eyes to the back of your skull. Your moans getting higher pitched. You reached for the bed sheets trying to stay connected to this world. He pulled out of you completely making you feel empty you whined and tried to put your pussy closer to his body.

“Get on your knees” he said and you did as told getting on all fours. He pushed your arms down so now your face was smooshed against the mattress. You expected a warning but instead he plunged deep into your sopping cunt putting his forearm around your waist pulling you into him to match his thrusts. “You - gotta - learn - the - consequences- of - being - nice- to everybody” he said between thrusts these being slower and deeper making you see stars as you babbled out I’m sorry and I’ll never do it again.

Truth be told you had no idea why you were being punished. You’d had multiple talks with bakugo about how you’re too trusting or too nice and one day you’ll get hurt. But when bakugo came into your dorm forcing you to your knees and pulling out his hardened cock talking about how he can’t wait for your lesson to come to you and that he will have to show you. He came all over your face twice before showing your pussy some love.

You couldn’t hold it anymore you squeezed around his dick sputtering his movements. “P-please kats- I need to omfg- I need to cum” you moaned out some words a whisper some a yell for help. “Fine then bitch cum on my dick yeah? Be good and cum f’me” he said and your orgasm came crushing down on you as he rode out your orgasm you expected him to slow down and give you a second to catch your breath but he didn’t he kept going at full force. You tried to push his waist away “‘s too much” you cried. He took your hands holding them behind your back “take it” he growled in your ear. He pulled out giving you some release before he picks you up and spears you on his dick fucking you in the air. You had no where to go nowhere to hold and this new position had you seeing the galaxy. At this point nothing came out of your mouth but gasps and groans as your body went limp. “You’re so fucking good for me. Letting me use you as a doll. You’re going to be so full, Yeha you want to be full of my cum dripping for days?” He whispered to you as you nodded furiously at the thought of him filling you up. You feel the knot form again squeezing onto him viciously. “You ready baby? Come with me please? Please baby can you do that?” He said as he toyed with your clit. You nodded as you felt his cock throbbing and his hubs sputtering as the two of you came together. As he came you rested on his cock feeling so full.

He placed you back on the bed and you thought you were done. Oh dear you were so wrong. He blessed you both with the opportunity to catch your breaths “oh god katsuki that was amazing” you said looking at him as hit face contorts into a smirk. “We’re not done”

That night you had learned two lessons. 1, you were too sweet to everybody and that the world wasn’t as safe as you believed and 2, bakugo can dick you down for hours.

[rooshoom]

A few Spot speaking quirks I’ve noticed and noted:

Talks to himself

The entire ATM scene

“Well this is new. Hypothesis, I’m going to put my head in that hole.”

“I need more spots!”

“This is what I love about science!”

Interrupts himself

“I’ve been waiting for this moment for a really long time so, hey where’d this goose come from? Is this your goose?”

“Wow”

“Wow, how are you?”

“Oh wow is this curry powder?”

“Wow, as you were gentleman.”

“Pardon me locals, wow four on there, wow that’s very dangerous.” (Also fits into the ‘interrupts himself category)

“No, no, no!”

“No no no no no, I did not mean it like that!”

“No, no, no, go ahead, take the call!”

Makes his voice small to take away from how large he physically is

“I had a little accident! Now look at me!”

“Hellooo~”

Sorry

“Hi sorry to bug you. I know you’re busy, sorry.”

“I’m so sorry!”

Has to get the last word

“Your suit’s too tight in the back by the way!”

“Foot in your face, weren’t expecting that were you? Neither was I! I’m in the zone!”

Random quotes that I think sum up his personality

“It’s right under, where my, where my nose would’ve been!”

“Please just let me rob you!”

“Unfortunately for both of us this is skin.”

“I think this is going great!”

“Nothing nothing! Everything is cool man! It’s all good!”