[boom-bakugou]

‘Wedding Crashers’ - Katsuki Bakugou

A/N: Sorry for my inactivity but here’s a little sorry and thank you present for me hitting 1k! I love you all sm <3

Pairings: Pro Hero!Bakugou x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, ooc deku; but it’s more of a headcanon, semi-public sex

Summary: Your ex-boyfriend Izuku Midoriya inviting you to his wedding is a definite stab in yours and Katsuki Bakugou’s backs. But you’ll show him.

Word Count: 5k

masterlist

You had considered your morning to be relatively normal, breakfast not burnt, coffee just that right amount of bitter to stir you awake. But those happy moments of peaceful bliss were soon to be fleeting as your mail arrived. Sifting through the pile to what you assumed would be bank statements and bills; your fingers landed on a cream white envelope. Your name printed neatly in a cursive font that when you followed it with your eyes for too long it almost made you want to puke. Tearing it open haphazardly, you read the perfumed content inside.

‘Dear Y/N Y/LN,

We are very proud to invite you to the blah blah blah wedding of pro hero blah blah Izuku Midoriya and blah blah blah.

RSVP blah-‘

Wait what? The taste in your mouth was pitiful. Yes, you and Izuku had dated years prior and after being childhood friends, yet it didn’t end… swimmingly. But this didn’t feel like inviting a childhood friend to your happiest day, no, this felt like a backhanded swipe at your ex-girlfriend who was well known to the media to be single. Pro-Hero gossip magazines made sure of that.

Throwing the invitation onto your countertop, your eyebrows furrowed with spite. You felt weak almost, watching your ex-best friend grow up to be this bountiful hero with merch in every store that you went to. Though you had triumphed well in the hero charts yourself, nothing ever seemed to compare to him. The golden boy. You never really got over the fact that he ended things because being a single hero was more postable than one who was tied down. Until now. Mr. Big shot getting married. It really made you question your integrity,

Recuperating your thoughts, you realised your phone was buzzing on the couch next to you. Checking to see the influx of text messages, you saw Katsuki Bakugou’s name fill up your lockscreen with notifications.

Bakugou: tell me you got the stupid fuckin invite too

Bakugou: the nerve that nerd still fuckin has

Bakugou: inviting his childhood ‘friends’ after all this time

Bakugou: tch, one big publicity stunt if you ask me

You chuckle as you scroll through the messages, gladly knowing that you weren’t the only one feeling this way.

Y/N: so what’re we going to do about it?

Bakugou: what do you mean?

Y/N: well we can’t show him up at his own wedding but we can sure stir something of our own

Bakugou: well that idiot is marrying some nobody extra

Bakugou: probably to show how ‘great’ he is

Bakugou: so how about if two top pro heroes rsvp’d together?

Y/N: you mean us?

Bakugou: no, midnight and grape juice. of course us you idiot

The idea brewed in your head for a moment. Izuku had always been nice when he was younger, and Katsuki hadn’t exactly been the nicest towards him in return. You were always the mediator in those situations. However when Deku grew and grew in the hero charts he started to lose touch with reality. Not really remembering what being a hero was about besides having his face stuck on a lunch box and raking in the dough for it. It was sad. You didn’t know who he was anymore.

Y/N: fuck it, i’m in

-

“You know, don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a tux before.” You chuckle, arm linked around Bakugou’s as you stepped out of the chauffeured car together. You were here to make a scene. Paparazzi glistened everywhere like a moth to a candle flame. You couldn’t wait for the tabloids in all honesty.

“Shut up.” Bakugou grumbled, almost in embarrassment. But his smile didn’t show a hint of it. “Not looking too bad yourself.”

You had coordinated well. Your maroon dress flowed in the gentle summer breeze and matched perfectly to Bakugou’s equally coloured tux. You two were such a pair it was nigh impossible to not think that you two were together today. And the paparazzi made sure of that indefinitely.

You couldn’t lie about how the service was beautiful, because it was. However you didn’t need to hear the shutter clicks of a camera go off every few words they spoke. It was distracting, and you and Bakugou shared a glance each time it occurred. Stifling a giggle, you hoped no camera would pick that up. Even if they did, they’d probably pin it to ‘look at these other heroes wishing that they were the next to get married!’ they’d eat that shit uplike ambrosia.

“Can’t wait to see the reception.” You mumbled towards Bakugou, your plastic smiles never fading for the cameras. Izuku making a show of himself and his new bride.

Watching him was almost bittersweet. The happy memories of you three as children flashing behind your eyes. Now replaced with a fame hungry number one hero. Where had all the time gone?

“What’s got you so perplexed?” Katsuki asked, filtering your way through the crowd, making your way to the cars that would deliver you all to the reception.

“Just-“ You sigh, allowing the cover of other heroes to hide you from the all seeing eyes of the paparazzi. “I miss him, y’know? Miss how we used to be.”

“Tch.” Bakugou didn’t care about the scowl present on his face, your words ate him up like some sort of bacteria. “Thought you said that he was the most selfish guy you’d ever dated?”

“He was but like-” You watched Izuku’s back as he held his new partner’s hand. Waving to the cameras and not watching her, as lovely as she looked in her wedding gown. “As weird as it sounds, I sometimes miss high school.”

Bakugou’s eyes scanned your face, following your eyesight to Midoriya. Fucking extra. The thoughts swam around his head, polluting his mind. He knew Izuku’s break up with you had been a massive toll on your mental health and your ego. He made you think that you weren’t good enough for him, and Bakugou never got over that fact. How could he pass up on you for anything else?

Breaking apart from the conglomerative of wedding-goers, Bakugou lead you to one of the specially hired cars to take the guests to the reception. Despite Bakugou’s abrasive and rough nature, you couldn’t help but notice how delicately he held your hand. Not tugging you along or haphazardly grabbing you by your wrist, making you follow him. No, his fingers interlaced with yours and you felt the coarseness of his palms due to the explosive nature of his quirk.

“Katsu?”

“Hm?”

“You can let go of my hand now, we’re in the car.”

“Yeah- whatever.”

Catching up in the car, you both realise how little time you have to actually spend with each other. Though you and Bakugou communicate 1000 times more than you do with Midoriya, heroing keeps you both busy. No times like these to goof off and be with each other. You missed it, you missed your hot-headed idiot friend.

“Hope there’s less fuckin’ paparazzi here. Think I’m gonna go blind with those extras pointing them in my face.” Bakugou rolled down the tinted window a smidge to watch as the car drove into an old looking manor hall where guests had already begun to arrive.

Flowers decorated the ground and just as you two got your hopes up, you saw a line of paparazzi at each side of the staircase leading to the double-doored entrance.

“Well, it was worth a try.” You remark to him, patting his back as you chuckled to him.

Bakugou was the first to exit, standing beside the door so he could reach for your hand to help you out while you fixed your dress. Just as the two of you began to reach for each other's arms to walk into the reception together; there was a brusque tug to your dress. Upon further inspection, a member of the shutterbugs had stood on a long section of your dress. Allowing himself to get pictures of it stretched out and flowy.

“Hey!” Bakugou didn’t waste time on pushing him off the tail end of the dress. “Try anything funny like that again with my girl and say goodbye to that shitty camera of yours!”

The man nodded, slowly letting his camera hang loose on his neck. The rest of the cameramen easily caught the scene but you both couldn’t care less. What’s a wedding without a little drama?

“Thanks Katsuki.” You note with a soft smile.

Bakugou’s hand tenderly makes its way around the small of your back until his arm is holding you close to him as you walk inside. His hand sitting in a caring way at your hip to assure that nothing could come between you both. You could not wait for the media to plaster this fake-ness on every outlet that they could! However, you liked the thought of relishing in the attention right now.

Once the dining festivities had come and gone. It was time for their first dance. Watching as he held her under the blue lighting had your heart hurting slightly. The thought that that could’ve been you. But Bakugou was right. He’s probably marrying some quirkless nobody not only to make himself look better, but being with another hero is messy. You both had media eyes on you; but… you couldn’t help but wonder how different your life would be like if Midoriya was how he used to be.

You didn’t even notice Bakugou’s eyes on you the whole time. Not wanting to waste a second of his eyesight on the show Izuku was putting on. You were a sight of your own. How could you not see that you deserved someone better? Someone like him. You always spoke about how everyone was under a facade when supporting Deku, but you never correlated that to yourself.

After a short while, others began to join in on the large dance floor. Perfectly spacious for all the famous faces and their egos. Bakugou’s hand traced down your arm until his hand clasped with yours, gently leading you to the floor yourselves.

“What’re you doing?”

“Come on, who’s to say we can’t have some fun too huh?”

Smiling at him, you followed his lead. His hand occupying your waist before pulling you in closer to his chest. Flowing with the music, you couldn’t help the cheesy smile on your face; nor the one that spread to Bakugou’s.

“Why’s no one ever tied down Mr. Ground Zero then?” Your question takes Bakugou by surprise, showing a small blip in your combined graceful swaying to the music.

“No ones good enough.” Such a Bakugou answer.

“You’re sounding like Izuku, but he probably got that from the old you.” You jested, earning an eye roll from Bakugou. “I’m being serious! Come on you can tell me.”

It takes him a moment to figure out an answer, so much so that he doesn’t focus on dancing anymore. He just stands there holding you before locking eyes again.

“Just haven’t found the right person to deal with my bullshit I guess.”

There’s a beat of silence and your eyes search his face for answers. You didn’t even realise how close you were to him. His breath fanning your face, the smell of oak and fire and burning sweetness engulfed your senses. You also didn’t realise how the two of you sank closer and closer into one another.

“Hey Kacchan, mind if I steal her from you?”

Izuku’s voice almost sends you two flying away from each other like same sides of a magnet.

“Ask her yourself she’s not mine.” You turn from Bakugou to give a friendly smile to Midoriya, allowing your hand to rest in his. “I’ll be at the bar. Free drinks and all.”

His answers are short, curt. Yet before you can ask him if he’s alright Deku spins you and begins to dance with you in his arms at the tempo of the new music track that’s playing.

“Long time no see Y/N!” His manner has always been so chipper, despite the facade of it all. Though Bakugou and you went there to purposefully to cause discourse; you don’t think you have it in you to be mean to Izuku’s face.

“Yeah, look at you! Married man now, must be scary.” You chuckle, almost nervously. It was like speaking to a stranger.

“Well I guess I’ll find out! But come on that’s been the subject of the whole day! I wanna know about you and Kacchan.” You felt like Bakugou right now, the old nickname boiling your blood as it did his. There was no doubt Izuku took influence from Bakugou and his fiery personality; but he took it in all the wrong ways. Using confidence to become cold, uncaring.

“Oh- haha, Katsuki and I aren’t-“

“Y/N. Don’t lie to me! I can see the way he’s burning holes in my tux from over here.”

Turning you to the music so you could face where Katsuki was standing, you peaked behind Midoriya’s arm to see Bakugou with an all too familiar scowl on his face. Chasing down a beverage in a crystalline glass in one easy gulp.

“If you ask me Midoriya he’s always looked at you that way.” You laugh your statement off but you meant it with malice.

“Midoriya? Feeling formal today are we Y/N?” He had completely lost touch of who he used to be. “I used to look at you like that when I saw you with other guys, I know what that look is.”

His comment stops you dead in your tracks, not allowing for him to swing you to and fro to the music.

“Actually Midoriya I don’t even remember you looking me with jealous intent other than when I was higher than you on the hero charts.” Shaking yourself free from his towering position on you, you stormed off to the patio doors, letting yourself be eaten by the oncoming darkness of night.

Crying at your ex’s wedding. Not something you’d think you’d ever do in your lifetime but here you were. Thankfully you couldn’t see any reporters or such outside so for now, it was just you and your tears. Maybe you were too harsh on him? You used to be friends right? What happened to that kid who wanted to be a hero who you looked up to? What happened to the boyfriend you had who kissed you goodnight and ignored you when your face was on the TV more than him or snapped at you when he was announced lower than you and broke up with you because ‘heroes dating are messy!’ No. Bakugou was right. He was a self-righteous bastard now.

“Y/N?”

You half expected Midoriya to come out after you but he was probably entertaining other guests. Luckily, as you turned you saw Bakugou standing outside with you, signature hands in his pockets with a dumb, sympathetic smirk on his face.

“Hey.”

“I promise I didn’t punch that asshole at his own wedding but I can tell you he got a fuckin’ earful from me. Hope the paps got a good pic.” His tone was joking but it hadn’t cracked a smile from you yet.

“S’alright. Wouldn’t give two shits if you did.” You sniffled, collecting mascara tears on your fingers and wiping them on the decorative concrete bannisters of the balcony. “Shouldn’t’ve fucking come. This was stupid I have too much baggage for this shit.”

You turned away from him, allowing yourself to lean out on the barrier, looking into the distance on the warm night. You could hear Bakugou give a small sigh before his arms snuck around your waist, pulling your back into his chest before placing a chaste kiss on the top of your head.

“That fuckin’ idiot didn’t know what he lost and it’s my fault for influencin’ him.” The pain in his voice was evident. Did Bakugou blame himself for the hurt Midoriya caused you?

“Katsu-“

“No. That extra is so blinded by the shit everyone has to say that he’s forgotten what real life is. Doesn’t care about his stupid fans or his friends or the best most understanding girl in the whole fucking world. A girl I know does the best for everyone no matter what her own situation is.” You turn around to face him, not wanting to leave his embrace. “Y/N. No matter how much I’ve always wanted to fuckin’ win I’ve just wanted the best for you. And when that bastard did what he did to you- I- fuck. You look at him, like you’re waiting for him to just notice you; but every time I see you it’s like I’m seeing you set the stars in the sky every fuckin night. You just- you’re fuckin’ everything to me Y/N.”

It was completely silent on the balcony besides the low thump of the music from indoors, but it was deafening. But it all faded when his lips attached to yours. It was so clear. All that pining over Midoriya when he was just copying the one who actually saw you for who you were. He even copied Bakugou’s crush on you, most likely to make him jealous. But your mind had no time to think of that when all you could feel was Bakugou.

It was like you had never been kissed before, never felt the love and sensuality behind it. Soft and moist but breathy and warm. For once Bakugou didn’t wish to win a battle, he wanted unity and to be together with you. His hands danced over the delicate curves of you in your dress; taking in every inch of your perfect body. The gasp that fell from your mouth was perfect entrance for Bakugou’s tongue to mingle with yours. The sparks hot and electric between you both was like liquid lightning.

Just as your hands found home in his hair, you heard the all too familiar sound of today of a photo being taken. Bakugou is the first to break the kiss to find the intruder of your special moment. Your lips already feel blushed and bruised but your heart was nearly pounding out your chest.

“Fuckin’ print that in your gossip magazine you extra!” Bakugou couldn’t help but heartily laugh at the man as he shook with worry after catching the intimate moment. He wanted to show you off. He wasn’t ashamed that his lips had captured you to be his.

“Let’s go somewhere more private.” He whispers into your ear and you eagerly nod, grasping his one hand with your two as the both of you manouvered your way through the wedding guests until you finally found a small closet down a hallway where no one from the party had entered.

Slamming the door shut behind you, your eyes drank in Bakugou’s frame. How had you missed that small boy you once knew had now become this beefy, beautiful man? Who was looking at you with the same awe and intent? Bakugou cornered you against the door of the supply closet, latching his lips together with yours once again as if he was scared he’d never be able to taste you again.

“You’re fuckin’ perfect.” Katsuki’s lips mashed with yours as his hands slid up your dress, the coarseness of his fingers against your soft skin sending shivers down your spine.

All those years of being a hero really showed on Bakugou, he lifted you with ease as your fingers traced scars on the back of his neck; holding on for support. His hips pin you against the door and you feel his cock hardening between the fabric of your underwear and his suit pants, you can’t help the whimper escaping your lips at the friction of him.

Bakugou’s hands slip under the straps of your dress, letting them fall delicately to your sides as his lips ensnare yours. His grunts and your whimpers enough to make any passerby know what was going on in the confined space of the closet. His fingers glide beneath the dress which allowed it to fall further as Bakugou felt the weight of your breasts in his palms.

“God you’re fucking everything princess.” His fingers slide beneath the lacy fabric to thumb your nipples, perking and tugging it with his forefinger.

Breaking the kiss, his head lowers to encapsulate the bud in his mouth. Gently suckling it before rolling it feverishly between his teeth. Your hands snaking through his hair only spurring the assault on your supple flesh. Biting your lip to stop the obvious moans that were threatening to spill out of your mouth. You swore you could see stars as his tongue flicked against the pointed nub- sending your nerves wild.

“Bet that fucking extra never treated you like this baby.” He matched your height, his gaze never leaving your own as he took both of your tits out of your bra; kneading the flesh and buds of your nipples as he spoke. “Just wanted to get himself off, I know how to fuckin’ treat you right.”

“Then do it… Kacchan.” You spoke with such gusto in your breathy state, knowing that the old nickname would make him see red. And god did it send him feral.

His body pressed you further into the door, even if it felt like he couldn’t. The aching feel of his cock rubbing against your clothed core made you mewl in want of him. His fingers slid beneath the hem of your dress and made little pricking motions into your inner thighs until he traced a slit over your panties.

“Shit you’re fucking wet.” The pads of his fingers kneading against where you wanted him most, a chuckle falling his lips as your hips did their best to try and get any sort of relief.

“Katsuki please- please fuck oh my god-“ Your neck craned back as you felt your body take control. The low growl in Bakugou’s throat at the sight of you barely touched and already begging for him.

Tracing his fingers along your décolletage he stopped when he met your parted lips before roughly shoving his fingers in your mouth, pressing down the body of your tongue.

“Please please please-“ Katsuki mocked. “Please what princess? Better use your fuckin’ words or else.”

An insufferable smirk played upon his lips as he felt your cunt clench around nothing at his dirty words. Pulling his fingers from your mouth, he wiped the remnants of your spit across your tits; awaiting for your response.

“Fuck me Katsuki- please you’re all I want. God you’re all I need.” Although said in your aroused state. You meant it- and he knew that.

Not wasting any more of the precious time you two had before you were inevitably found out considering your blatant disregard for being quiet; Bakugou used his hand to tug off his belt. Nearly setting his suit pants on fire as his quirk crackled in anticipation for you.

Your body clung to Bakugou’s for support, his whole body easily keeping your pinned high between himself and the door. Once his lower half was sufficiently stripped, it was easy enough for him to rip the sides of your underwear off.

“Katsu-“

“Shut up.”

Not wanting to disagree; you did. Hips bucking against nothing as the cool air prickled at your hot cunt. Bakugou held his manhood in his hand, rubbing the head of it in your slick and providing stimulation to your clit. Your thighs tightening around his waist like a vice grip at the well needed attention.

“You’re fuckin’ soaking baby. So needy.” Bakugou mumbled against your neck, allowing himself and you to get off momentarily at the friction. You could only nod to his words which were making you more and more wet for him. He was such a tease.

“Come on princess. Tell me you want my cock. Tell me.” His voice growled as he repeated himself, leaving marks upon your nape that would surely bruise because of his harsh bites and sucklings.

“Katsuki I need you- only you. Only you.” Your repetition is barely a whisper but he heard it, and despite his rough nature Bakugou confines your lips in a kiss as he sheaths himself inside of you.

Taking a few slow thrusts to allow yourself to adapt to his size, it’s only a moment before Bakugou completely bottoms out inside of you. He watches your face shiver in pleasure which he mirrors. He clasps your hips so firmly his knuckles turn white; it didn’t even hurt as all you could focus on was him inside you. Your hands find their way to his biceps, gripping on for some tension relief and you could still feel his muscles flex even beneath his suede blazer and the shirt.

“What a good fuckin’ girl, taking my cock like this.” Bakugou’s voice is a low growl as he thrusts into you, the sounds of your clothes brushing against one another and the slaps of your skin interacting was like a sinful symphony.

The smell of caramel danced in your brain as Bakugou worked up a sweat absolutely pummeling himself into your sex. You grasped onto him as if your life depended on it, moaning into his neck as his cock slid in and out of you. You didn’t even know how much time was passing as he rutted himself into you relentlessly- yet as you both came to your highs, you could both barely move from the thrill of it all.

Steadying your breaths back to a regular pace; Bakugou slid you down from where he had pinned you against the door and let you fix yourself as he then did himself. You sorted your dress and pulled any tugs from your hair when he had pulled it before slapping Bakugou’s arm.

“You dick! You ripped my underwear!”

“Hot.” He chuckled, fixing his belt loops and stuffing the ripped panties into his pocket.

“Not funny! I’m not parading about with no underwear on!”

“We’re getting the fuck out of this extras stupid wedding. You can wear my clothes at my place.” Suitably sorted and not looking like you had just had the brains fucked out of you in a closet (despite the reddening bites and bruises that were now appearing on your neck), Bakugou held you close. Yet instead of taking the corridor to the exit, he was leading you back to the main dance hall.

“Where’re we going?” You hashly whispered to Bakugou, your thighs still wet from your slick and the cool air against your unclothed pussy making you heat up from embarrassment.

“Gots to do one thing before we go.” There’s a shit eating grin on his face, you couldn't help but wonder what on earth he was planning now.

Midoriya stood talking to other heroes all dressed in their formal attire and Bakugou (with no consideration of their conversation) roughly tapped his shoulder to get his immediate attention. His arm around your waist was so tight but being see with Bakugou like this made you feel almost proud.

“We’re just heading off.” Bakugou had replaced his smile for his usual scowl, something he had always looked at Izuku with.

“Going so soon? It’ll be a shame you guys!” Izuku’s voice was plastered in falsehood. He probably regretted trying to gloat over you two. Bakugou held out his hand for Midoriya to shake it, your brows furrowed on what was obviously a stepping stone to Bakugou’s plan.

“I know I might not be better at you right now in the hero charts.”

Uh oh.

“I’m glad you’ve finally come to recognise that Kaccha-“

“But I am better at you at something for sure.”

Bakugou used Midoriya’s hand in his to pull him closer, readying himself to whisper in his ear.

“Cause I just fucked the shit out of your ex-girlfriend and I know you never made her come as hard as I did.”

Your face burned with the heat of a million suns, but the glower on Izuku’s face was priceless. And you couldn’t help but see the flash of a camera capture the moment as Bakugou’s hand fell from his and slipped once again around your waist.

[boom-bakugou]

‘Let Me Into Your Heart’

Keigo Takami (Hawks)

summary: your evening endeavours are blissfully interrupted by a winged hero looking for a late night bite.

pairing: keigo takami x civilian!gn!reader

themes & cw: 18+ weed and alcohol consumption! weed recreational usage, no use of y/n, serious slow burn lmao, smut, unprotected sex !!11, soft possessiveness, lovemaking, biting, open ended (angsty kinda) ending

word count: 5.7k

a/n: hi there! this may seem kinda weed central but ive mentally labelled it as ‘snippets of a love story as told through their time smoking marijuana together’ or, the vibes i got when listening to childish gambino—if this isn’t your cup of tea, then don’t read! <3

masterlist

now playing - me and your mama by childish gambino, les by childish gambino, melting by kali uchis, good looking by suki waterhouse, sober by childish gambino, sexy to someone by clairo

The late nights were always the longest. You don’t know how many your boss has scheduled you for, was this the sixth? Seventh night in a row? The neon lights downtown blur together against the starless, light-polluted sky until night feels endless. Sleep through the day, drag yourself awake just to face the same hours at this stupid chicken and ramen stop. It’s almost unbearable

No one ever usually came in besides the occasional businessman who missed the last train, swaying on his feet and smelling like whiskey. They never talk, just a slight nod as you served them a few more beers and a hot bowl of pork belly ramen. The clock on the wall ticks deafeningly despite the soft music in the background. When the minute hand shivers past 2:30am, you finally let yourself think about officially closing.

You leave the counter to flip the sign—then the bell above the door rings.

”I hope I’m not too late, am I?” A man clad in brown cargos and a matching jacket stands in the doorway. Even if the uniform didn’t give him away, the entire prefecture would recognise those wings. “Just here for some takeout, if that's all good?”

Hawks. For a second, you freeze. Seeing a pro hero in the flesh—even one as famously casual as Hawks—is a strange sight to see in your little shop. Awe tingles at the edges of you, but exhaustion pushes it down.

”Sorry,” you start, “we’ve just closed—“

”Please. Just a box of fried chicken and I’m gone. Everywhere else is shut and—oh—I’ll pay extra.”

You sigh, quiet. You’d been slowly closing the whole, slow night, and the fryers were still on. You nod, a little solemnly as you head to the cramped kitchen in the back.

”Thanks so much.” Hawks exhales, shoulders dropping with his smile, warm and full of relief as he takes a seat at the counter. “You don’t know how much I needed this, I owe you one.”

You give a sort of snort under your breath, tossing your ingredients into a bowl. His presence is warm but… quieter than you expected. Not the cocky, charming persona on the hero interviews. Maybe keeping that up is too heavy this late at night.

“So uhm—“ you begin, craving some kind of conversation after hours of silence. “—this you just finishing the late night patrols?”

A small chuckle leaves his lips, taking off his leather aviation gloves and sticking them in his jacket pockets.

”Well, it never really stops. But yeah. Comfort food is a must.” He’s admiring the old style interior of the ramen shop, massaging his knuckles as he doesn’t fully look at you.

You turn to drop the chicken in the fryer, counting seconds in your head. On TV, his features are sharp and flawless, all polish and hero-lighting and presumably a lot of makeup. Here, under the yellow lamps of the ramen shop, his freckles show. His hair is mussed and kissed by the wind. The real version in front of you is softer, more human

“Are you always open this late?”

You jolt when your eyes meet his, realising you’ve been staring. You hurry a little nod to him, turning to check on his food before looking back at him.

”You’re my first and last customer tonight though.” You give the basket a little shake absent mindedly to make sure it cooks evenly enough. “Kind of nice having a pro hero swing by, though.”

This earns another smile from him, brief, but you caught it and the flashes of his dimples.

”You’ll see more of me if this is good food though. Nothing gets me like just some good late-night fried chicken.”

You pack his order: sides, dips, golden chicken straight from the oil.

”Think I’ve eaten too much of it to give my opinion on it honestly— and I don’t get much input from other customers who come in at this time.” You set the box into a small paper bag and head over to the counter, setting it in front of him.

”Didn’t catch your name by the way closer— I’m—“

”Hawks, I know. The wings and jacket sort of give it away.” You give him a smile, telling him your name as he digs about his pockets for some cash.

”Pretty name,” he says, handing you more than the bill. “Don’t stay up too late kid or go wander down dark alleys. Off duty or not, I can’t be everywhere at once.

”I’ve handled many a closing shift before. I think I’m settled.” You reply, but he’s already waving off the change.

“See you again.” Hawks gives a small salute with two of his fingers as he makes his way to the door and into the depths of the night, taking off from in front of the shop.

Odd guy, but polite at least, keeping the streets safe or whatnot. You didn’t even really mind if you never saw him up close like that again, even though the smell of him lingers in the small space, weaving with the steam and frying oil: ozone, sun-warmed feathers, the faint musk of tobacco and wind. A smell that sticks in your chest for the rest of the evening.

1 week later

2:50. Everything is scrubbed and locked, the shop ready for the openers—except for the drunk man who begged you for a table ten minutes ago. You told him three times the kitchen was closed. He didn’t listen. Your manager would probably chew you out for turning him away, but at this hour, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Now, slumped on the back step, legs aching, staring into the narrow alley behind the shop. The air tastes like asphalt and grease. You fish through your bag, pulling out your near-empty pack of cigarettes. A hit of nicotine would help, but tonight you want something stronger,

You pull your prerolled joint out instead, spark it, and inhale. Warmth rushes your veins as its smoke unfurls into the cold night air, curling under orange streetlights. Finally, your body loosens for the first time in hours.

Halfway through, your phone lights your face as you scroll aimlessly, the night pressing in around you. The joint burns low between your fingers and you decide to save the rest for when you’re at home, stubbing it out and pushing yourself to your feet to head to the main road at the front of the restaurant.

”I guess I’m way too late this time huh?”

The voice cuts through the empty street, and you jerk back with a choked, startled sound. Your hands instinctively lift, defensive, before your brain catches up. Hawks stands at the edge of the shopfront, wrapped in the city night.

”You scared the hell outta me!” Your voice bounces off the bricks. “What do you think you’re doing sneaking up on me like that!”

Your posture eases as you take him in properly—his silhouette against the dim glow, the soft distortion of his trademark red, browns and yellows under the streetlights. It takes a beat for your mind to reconcile this shadowy grounded figure with the hero from TV.

”Sorry. Lost track of time,” he says, slipping his hands into his pockets, his voice smooth as the night air. His visor catches the lamplight just enough to hide his eyes. “That stuff will make you paranoid.”

You pause, a flicker of guilt in your chest. ”…How did you know I—“

”I can smell it off you.”

Your mouth shuts tight. Heat prickles the back of your neck. Is he gonna lecture you? Write you up? Whatever a hero does when they catch a nobody smoking weed in an alley?

Hawks tilts his head, reading the panic in your face, and his mouth curls in amusement.

”Relax. I’m off-duty. And I’m not the weed police.”

You exhale through your nose and try not to smile

He steps close. Limber, unhurried. His wings stretch and settle behind him, a red shadow that almost blocks the streetlight. One fold dips instinctively, letting the light spill over your face like he’s presenting you to the night.

”I said I owed you one, right?” His voice is low, friendly. “For staying open for me a week ago?”

He closes the last few feet between you until his face is lit, golden-brown under the streetlights. He closes his eyes briefly and smiles like he means it.

”So let me walk you home. Least I can do, after you survived another night shift.”

You have to blink a few times to register everything that’s going on, taking your time to respond. Your brain feels like it’s catching up in frames, and by the time you nod and start walking, he’s already falling into step beside you.

”Thanks.” You say finally, adjusting the strap of your bag to the front. “Actually…” You flip it open, fishing through the clutter until you find the white takeout box. “I took home some leftovers tonight. Do… you wanna share?”

You pop the lid and tilt it toward him: a few golden-brown tabasaki wings, still glistening under the streetlight. For a split second, Hawks lights up like a kid at a festival. He glances at you for permission before snatching one with a grin,

“You’re gonna ruin me,” he says around the first bite, his feathers shivering in a sort of quiet delight,

You laugh, your chest loosening for the first time all night. “I’m guessing fried chicken is your weakness then?”

“Yeah, well, don’t tell the Commission. They already think I’m irresponsible enough at times.” His grin grows wider, wiping his mouth with the back of his glove and tossing the clean bone into a street bin as you pass. “God, I needed that.”

The walk is easy, your footsteps in sync—or maybe that was just the weed telling your brain that. The city is dead at this hour; just the hum of traffic far away, the smell of asphalt and oil, and Hawks’ cologne as well, warm and sharp. Something that was invading your senses and spreading a warm blush across your cheeks and up to your eyes.

”I like to smoke after work to,” he says casually, voice almost lazy with honesty. “Helps me crash. Plus…” He flashes a glance at you, almost playful. “Works up the appetite. As you can see.”

You huff a laugh. “Guess we’ve got that in common.”

The night paints the edge of his grin in gold. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, but you feel him glance down at you like he’s memorising something—your voice when you smile as you talk, the curve of smoke in the cold air.

”Well, this is me.”

weeks pass…

Hawks is now a… familiar shadow in your life. At first it was pretty casual, once to twice a week. He’s dropping in right before close, all warm grins, claiming he’s craving fried chicken or ramen but you learned quickly: he was really there for the company. For you.

He just leans on the counter, spinning disposable chopsticks between his fingers, talking like the world outside the shop isn’t his to save. About the sky at 3am, when the city is nothing but lights and black glass; about villains that never seem to sleep; about how heavy his wings feel when he’s too tired to fly home.

Eventually, he started lingering. In the alley behind the shop, where the smell of fryer oil clung to your clothes and the smoke slid between you into the empty streets. He’d wait for you, leaning agains the wall like a red-feathered shadow, sparking a joint for you to share with a smirk.

Then, when comfort grew into habit, he’d walk with you home. Where your fire escape became his favourite perch. The rusted iron steps under his boots and city lights spilling across his wings with you by his side, was a nest he never knew he needed,

Tonight, the air is sharply laced with exhaust and winter. The joint glows between your fingers as you lean back against the retailing. Hawks is slouched a step below, jacket hanging off his hips, legs spread careless like he’s too tired to keep up the hero act. His visor is pushed back, and without it, his eyes are softer—brown and amber and warm,

”You’ve been all the way up there?” You point toward the endless black of the sky. Your voice is thick with disbelief as you steal another hit, greedy for warmth and haze, and offer him the roll.

”Yup.” Hawks reaches up, tapping a gloved finger to your pouting lower lip with a quiet, teasing laugh. “And I’m telling you. we could go there.”

You choke on a laugh. ”Nope no way.”

”Oh don’t give me that again,” he says, leaning back, wings stretching briefly before folding close. “You’d love it, the whole city looks like it’s breathing up there.”

”I don’t know what you’re like flying when you’re high,” you shoot back, waving a lazy had toward the night. “and I would freak the hell out.”

Hawks stifles a soft chuckle. Smoke billows from his mouth, disappearing into the cold air. He tips his head back, eyes on the sky, and for a long moment the only sounds is the faint creak of the fire escape beneath your combined weights. Every so often he glances at you sidelong, and you can feel the heat of his gaze trace the shape of your profile, memorising every part of you.

“Well,” he murmurs eventually, like he’s talking to himself more than you, “maybe when we both have a day off.”

You hum, letting the words hang in the night. The horizon is shifting now as soft pinks bleed into the black, like the sky is exhaling. A yawn forces its way up your throat, and you rub at your bare arms.

Before you can shiver, Hawks slides his jacket across your shoulders. It’s warm and heavy and the lining smells just like him but a million times better, a sweetness that makes your chest inexplicably tighten. His hands settle on your arms to keep it in place, steady and grounding. And his forearm brushes against your back.

Your breath catches. Heat crawls up your neck and into your ears. Maybe it’s the weed, or maybe it’s him, but suddenly you’re acutely aware of every inch of space between you; and how little there actually is.

”There,” he says softly, voice almost a whisper near your ear. “Better.”

You don’t look at him. If you do, you’re afraid you might not stop.

”Uh….” You grip the jacket tighter around you, trying to ignore the pounding of your own heart, afraid he might hear it. “It’s getting late. I should… probably head to bed.”

He doesn’t move for a moment, like he’s debating whether to stay. Then, slowly, his hands leave your arms, a reluctant slide of warmth leaving your skin. He pushes to his feet with a soft rustle of feathers, the smirk back on his lips feels more tempered.

”Sweet dreams angel, I’ll get the jacket back another time,” he says, his voice the last mix of smoke in the air. And then he’s gone—over the railing, into the sky, leaving you with that hum of something dangerous taking root in your chest.

a few months go by…

And your apartment is dimly lit with the lamp in the corner and a few candles burning around the room. The air smells like soy sauce, fried chicken, and the sweet, lingering scent of weed. A joint smoulders between your fingers as you lay back against the cushions, half-wrapped in a blanket, one leg curled beneath you. Hawks is slouched beside you, one arm stretched along the back of the couch, a bottle of beer balanced in his other hand. His wings spilled over the edge of the furniture, tips twitching lazily with every exhale.

The TV murmured quietly in the background, some rerun of something neither of you seemed entirely interested in watching. Empty takeout containers were stacked precariously on your coffee table, along with boardgames, effects from Hawk’s pockets—evidence of comfort, habit and nights like this becoming routine. You pass him the joint, your fingers brushing his, something that never failed to spark heat along your skin.

“I think this is the best part of my week,” he says, unprompted, after a beat. His voice is disbelieving and soft, surprised he’d let his thoughts come aloud. He doesn’t look at you as he takes a drag, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. “Just this. You. The quiet. No suit. No civilians. No pretending.”

You don’t reply right away as you don’t know how. Instead, you reach for your beer, letting the fizz and weight of it anchor you.

”If I’m not a civilian then what am I?” You jab.

”I’m serious.” He mutters, quieter now but now faced to look at you. “You make it hard to remember why I ever liked being alone.”

You didn’t ever think your heart could stutter, but it has now. Unsure of what to do with itself. You set the bottle down, watching him do the same as you suddenly felt aware of his warmth once again, the couch dipping under his weight and leaning you against him.

”I’m glad you’re here,” you admit. Your voice is still steady, but something inside you wasn’t. “Even if you hog all my blankets.”

Hawks smiles, low and lazy before biting the very inside corner of his lip as if to show some form of restraint. He shifts closer, just slightly, and reaches for the edge of the blanket, tugging it higher around your shoulders.

In feeling his touch, you realise how cold your arms were when his fingers brush your skin. You realise how much you were shivering until he touched you.

For a long, weighted moment, neither of you move.

Hawks’ hand hovers a little longer than necessary as the back of his knuckles rest against your jaw. His thumb traces the faintest line from the corner of your mouth to the edge of your cheekbones, and your eyes flutter shut without meaning to. You hear him lick his lips in the tension between you.

And then he leans in.

The kiss isn’t gentle or soft or practiced or even sweet. This man was desperate. Hungry. His lips crash against yours like they’d been waiting too long, like he’s been holding back for weeks and the dam had officially burst. Your teeth clash together at first before he centres himself, his hands cupping your face, fingers sliding into your hair, holding you as your back hits the cushions.

You gasp into his mouth and he swallows the sound greedily. His kisses grow deeper and harder as his body moves to hover over yours. The blanket tangles itself between you, your legs pressing to his through layers of denim and cotton. The heat rushes up your spine in waves.

His touch is everywhere, palms framing your face, thumbs brushing your throat, wings trembling behind him as though they can’t stay still. Your hands find home in his hair, pulling him in closer, fingers threading through the gelled strands.

When he finally pulls away, it’s only to breathe. His forehead drops against yours and you pant in a steamy harmony of swollen mouths and half lidded eyes. Hawks’ signature smirk is almost seductively crooked with his kissed lips.

”I’ve wanted to do that since the first night on the fire escape,” Hawks breathes, voice hoarse.

Your chest is still rising and falling too fast, your hands still curled in the fabric of his shirt. “Why didn’t you?”

He laughs under his breath, bitterly beautiful as always. “Because I knew once I did, I wouldn’t stop.”

You looked at him—really looked—and something clicked into place. Just him.

“I needed that real bad—“ He dips lower to kiss just beneath your earlobe. “Like I’d die if I didn’t.”

”Dude, you are so high.”

countless nights spent together…

But tonight, his fingers toy absently with a loose thread on your mismatched blankets, grazing your leg every so often. He hadn’t kissed you yet. Not tonight. But it hovered in the air, waiting, like it had every other time.

”Swear these blankets are a trap,” he mutters, voice low and rasped from smoke. “I haven’t moved in thirty minutes.”

You spark a sleepy smile. “It’s not a trap. You just don’t want to move.”

He turns toward you, slightly. Just enough so that your shoulders brush. “Maybe I don’t.”

A silence settles between you two. You were both a little stoned, a little tipsy—just enough to be honest, but not enough to forget. You leaned your head gently toward his shoulder, and when he doesn’t move you let it rest there fully. Your eyes land on your half-finished beers sweating onto the cork coasters he bought for you apartment.

”You’ve been staying late lately,” you murmur.

He gives a breathy laugh. “You trying to get rid of me?”

”No,” you say, quietly. “Just noticing.”

Hawks shifts then, moving enough to pull the blanket higher over you both. He angles his body toward yours, and the warmth of him is so direct upon you, you can barely breathe. He always seems so aware of how you react, like he was always measuring how far he could push.

His finger traces circles upon the top of your wrist. “You keep letting me in.”

”You keep knocking.”

”Maybe I like it here.”

Turning to face him but remaining wrapped into him, you take in his hair tousled state. All pushed back by his fingers earlier when he’d made a joke that made you laugh harder than you should’ve. His lips, slightly parted and barely chapped. He always looks as if he just woke up or just kissed someone.

”Then stay,” your voice is a whisper of a thought that you do and don’t mean to pass your lips.

Hawks blinks once. Then again. “Are you sure?”

”I always am.”

His gaze drops to your lips, and that’s the only warning you get. The kiss that he follows you with is a messy and fierce version of those stolen make outs over the past few weeks.

You melt into him instantly. His hand finds your waist beneath the blankets, tugging you closer with a sudden need that felt like he needed to steal the breath from your lungs. Your knees bump together, tangled as always. His other hand finds your jaws tilting your face just the way he liked it, and his thumb brushes your cheek as if to say stay here. Stay right here.

”Ha—awks—“ you gasp the vowels against his mouth, begging to catch your breath, but he doesn’t let up. His lips drag down your neck, warm and desperate, and your fingers feather lightly dip beneath the fabric of his shirt.

”This okay?” He asks, parting with a hoarse reply against your throat.

”Yes,” you gulp. “Yes god yes.”

His lips meet yours once again, a lot slower but with no stop of his intensity. It tasted like every stupid grin of his, every time you didn’t want him to leave. You felt that aching, swelling feeling again in your chest and lips.

”I think about this all the time,” he admits, voice muffled by the crook of your neck, “Being here. With you.”

”You are here.”

”But not like this,” he says, leaning back enough just to be captured by your eyes, “Not really.”

His thumb begins to trace your bottom lip along with his gaze, your breath hitches.

”You scare me,” you whisper.

Hawks blinks, taken aback. “Why?”

”Because I think I want this too much.”

Hawks stares at you then, his hand rubbing up your side to try and ground you.

”I’ve never wanted anything this bad and still felt like I could still fuck it up,” he said. “But I want it anyway.”

The blanket slips off of your shoulder as you move closer, shifting him over to straddle him without a second thought. You feel his hands steady at your thighs, his breath stuttering.

”I’m not fragile,” you tell him.

”I know.” His hands tighten around your thighs slightly. “That’s the problem.”

You felt the need to get lost in him—and you dive in. The weight of him beneath your knees, how his tongue feels brushing against yours, the sharp exhale he make when he feels your nails on his skin. His mouth finds yours again and again, like he was starving for it. You were too.

His hands found solace in your skin, every touch is slow and charged and grasping. Hawks presses his lips to your temple.

”You always smell like tea and smoke,” he whispers. “You kill me.”

You let your fingers trail down his chest, resting your palm against his thundering heart. “Then don’t leave.”

”I wasn’t going to,” he says. “Not anymore.”

You lean your forehead against his, biting your lip—just long enough for you to breathe him in again yourself.

“I think I’m falling in love with you,” you say with a ghost of a smile.

Hawks doesn’t answer immediately, just touches your face, eyes darting over every inch of it.

”I think I fell weeks ago.”

He secures your legs around his waist and lifts you like you weigh nothing, hands pressed tight and neatly behind your back as he kisses your neck and leads you to your bedroom.

You back hits the soft huff of your comforter, and he stands before you. His eyes are almost black in the dark of the room.

”I thought I’d never get to touch you like this,” he whispers, his frame coming over to loom over you. His hands take the hem of your shirt with him as he edges up to your face. “And now you’re here and I don’t know where to begin.”

”I’m sure we’ve very much started-“ you jab back, kissing along his face before pulling your shirt off fully.

It takes a moment for him to adjust seeing your naked form in front of him like this for the first time, bare chested. He traces your collarbones with the backs of his fingers tenderly.

”God,” Hawks breathes after a second, taking his own shirt off to join you. “Imagination did you no justice.”

You blush and let a chuckle pass your lips before he’s kissing down your chest to your pyjamas. Tilting your neck up, you see his lustful eyes watching you with every sloppy kiss. With precision, he anchors your hips up and slides your underwear and pyjama trousers off. Each kiss there is like heavenly bliss from this own personal angel of yours. Laps and suckles that make you crane your head back and bite your lip;afraid to scream in ecstasy at 4am.

“Please baby—ngh—need you here, now.” You whine, trailing your fingers through his wind defined streaks of hair, growing steadily slick with sweat in his arousal.

When he arose again, mouth glinting wet in the dim light from your arousal—his own was tenting in his trousers, arching the zipper greedily begging to be let out.

”Tell me what you need.” He crawls back onto the bed and over you. “Whatever it is, baby, I’ll give it to you.”

Your mouth gives no answer but your body does, your hips shift needily up to meet his. Seeking that solid warmth of him above you, both of you hitch your breath and a shock shoots up your tired spine.

Hawks nods, carefully using a hand to unzip him from his jeans until he lazily kicked them to the floor. He grinds a soft hitch into you with only the thin remaining barrier of his boxers between you. A wet patch seeped deep into the tip of the imprint of his cock, followed by a low whine tearing from his throat.

“Need to be inside you too.” Hawks’ voice is a low rumble of the high pitched man you usually knew. His words all breath and throat and it was making you need him more by the minute. He slides his boxers off, letting his leaking cock free for the first time. He hisses as it meets the colder night air, the tip of him bright red as he brushes it against your entrance.

You reach down on instinct, but he grabs your wrist gently but possessively and pins it to the bed above your head. His fingers are slightly trembling as his restraint hangs by a thread.

”Mine,” he whimpers, voice breaking as he aligns himself.”

He doesn’t give you a moment to enjoy a slow slide as he seats himself into you, no respect or preparation besides the slick your own body provides. He fills you in one deep stroke, sheathed with a moan into the crook of your neck—muffled by a bite of your shoulder. Your body instinctively reacts and clenches around him, the guttural moans of pleasure ring through you and you grasp up at his shoulder blades for balance that this is really real.

”Fuck.” He moves out slowly at first before plunging back inside you again with groan and you swear you see stars. “You feel like heaven.”

You fling an arm back to grab at your blankets, afraid of gripping him too tightly whilst the other digs your nails into his shoulder blades. The way he holds you—hands sliding under your back and meeting at the base of your spine is like he’s trying to be one with you.

His pace begins slow, with every thrust deliberately drawn out to make sure your pretty eyes flutter shut. Hawks makes sure to kiss every exposed part of you he feels he needs attention. He goes from your jaw to your shoulder, to the inside of your elbow—tasting your salty sweat skin mixing with his own.

“Perfect—god you’re perfect,” he’s beginning to growl, biting down gently on your collarbone. “So warm. So tight. So good for me.”

He stutters his words with a thrust each time, your bodies meeting again and again. You both feel desperate but not rushed. And throughout it all, he never stops looking at you. As if you were tethering him to the earth and if he blinked it’d all vanish.

”Mine,” he mutters again, but quieter than before as he presses his lips against yours. “All of you, always.”

You believe it, you feel it too. The way you couldn’t imagine being apart from him now. The swelling feeling you knew all too well begins to pressure and crest; your inner waves of bliss just building with his thrusts, his whispers—until you shatter in his arms and cry his name out. Uncaring of any neighbours anymore.

Hawks follows suit soon after, whimpering your name into your mouth as his hops stutter and his whole body tensing as he spills into you. His grip upon you and weight surrounding you is so tight it’s hard to tell where one of you ends and the other begins.

After everything, you’re panting and sweating and boneless creatures trembling in your sheets. Hawks pulls you close to him chest, your head underneath the crook of his chin.

”Yeah, I love you.”

”I love you too.”

and in the morning…

Hawks thanks any god there could be that you were still asleep, in the daze of everything he completely forgot to turn the alarm on his phone off. Pawing for the familiar sound, he deliriously looks at his lock screen only to see a familiar contact phoning him.

”Hello?”

“Meet me at the fire escape, bird brain.”

Click. Hawks gulped as he looked down at your sleeping body, your skin looking flawless against the colours of your bedsheets, your sleeping innocence as you curled into Hawks’ honey golden chest. Hawks had been through many stealth operations, he could get through this. He effortlessly slides you onto your side, letting you feel as if it was your natural sleep pattern making you turn the other way and not him getting up and out of bed.

He pieces together his dishevelled clothes from the night previous and stalks his way to your fire-escape. It could only be 7/8ish in the morning, he’d barely had enough sleep, or enough rest from last night. The morning dew is cold as it hits him, but not as cold as the feeling he gets when he sees him.

”What are you doing here Dabi?”

”Looks like someone had some fun last night.”

Hawks stares him down, noting how tight his hood was up to keep his identity a secret. Knowing Hawks wouldn’t nip to his banters, Dabi continued.

”Did you forget the boss set up a meeting last night for you?” Dabi watches as Hawks pales, his eyes darting back into the empty living room behind him. Dabi just softly bites out a ‘hah’.

”Well tell him I can come tonight instead.” Hawks stands his ground, making his presence seem larger so Dabi couldn’t snoop around the confides of your life.

”I already did.” Dabi turns his back to him, turning to head back down the stairs. “The boss doesn’t know about your little ‘situationship’. But I do.”

Before he fully turns down the stairs, he pulls his phone up for Hawks to see. He flicks through a myriad of photos of the two of you smoking together, behind the shop, on your fire escape, ones of him guffawing at laughter from the window of your workplace. Hawks felt his gut go blue and the tips of his ears go red.

”Make sure you’re focused on your task. Lest the commission or the league find out about your, ‘habit’.” Dabi places a hand on the railing as the other secures his phone in his pocket. “After all you should know that the reason your little secret here’s got good stuff—”

Dabi gives a wicked smile to Hawks, who’s staring him down as he begins to step down the stairs. “—is because I’m a good dealer.”

Hawks could nearly choke on his tongue, but his senses are distracted by the spare feathers resting on your bed feeling you awaken; as Dabi takes heavy footsteps with his boots down the rusted fire escape.

[boom-bakugou]

boom-bakugou’s masterlist

key:

ⓘ - trigger warnings 𓆩♡𓆪 - angst

⚠︎ - smut ⋆˚࿔ - fluff

★dabi

drabbles

cockwarming ⚠︎

headcanons

bathing with his s/o ⋆˚࿔

★denki kaminari

social media imagines

angst text imagines #1 𓆩♡𓆪

★eijiro kirishima

social media imagines

angst text imagines #1 𓆩♡𓆪

nepenthe (au, slice of life) DISCONTINUED ⋆˚࿔

oneshots

compare - kaminari and you are finished, officially. but what is he in comparison to your roommate kirishima? ⚠︎

drabbles

reacting to his s/o being harassed 𓆩♡𓆪 ⓘ

cockwarming ⚠︎

★fumikage tokoyami

drabbles

comfort crowd - yeah, i could spend a lifetime/sitting here talkin’/and even if i cry all over your body/you really don’t mind ⋆˚࿔ 𓆩♡𓆪

★hanta sero

social media imagines

angst text imagines #1 𓆩♡𓆪

drabbles

cockwarming ⚠︎

★hitoshi shinso

drabbles

won’t bite - closer to me baby, i won’t bite/you look so tasty, but i won’t bite/really i’m such a good kitty, don’t put up fights/but if you trick me, baby it gon’ get sticky ⚠︎

★izuku midoriya

drabbles

reacting to his s/o being harassed 𓆩♡𓆪 ⓘ

★katsuki bakugou

social media imagines

angst text imagines #1 𓆩♡𓆪

redamancy (sm!au, youtuber!au, angst, humour) ⋆˚࿔ 𓆩♡𓆪

oneshots

earn your title - it’s difficult being the sidekick to the infamous pro hero katsuki bakugou, and it’s even harder trying not to speak back to him. ⚠︎

message received - you thought your villainous father was out of your life for good. until the letters began to arrive 𓆩♡𓆪 ⓘ

wedding crashers - your ex-boyfriend izuku midoriya inviting you to his wedding is a definite stab in yours and katsuki’s backs. but you’ll show him. ⚠︎

busy woman - the only way you can get your ex-boyfriend katsuki out your head is if you keep yourself busy, busy, busy. ⚠︎

drabbles

reacting to his s/o being harassed 𓆩♡𓆪 ⓘ

cockwarming ⚠︎

(can we be best friends?) - and if anybody fucks with you/they fuck with me/so, if anybody fucks with you/i’ll knock their teeth out, yeah 𓆩♡𓆪 ⓘ

wish you were sober - tripped down the road, walking home/you kissed me at your door/pulling me close, begging me to stay over/but I’m over this rollercoaster 𓆩♡𓆪 ⓘ

headcanons

reader has braces ⋆˚࿔

reader is hot-headed like him ⋆˚࿔

★keigo takami (hawks)

oneshots

the three times - there were 3 times each when you and hawks thought of each other after your breakup 𓆩♡𓆪

drabbles

bathing with his s/o ⋆˚࿔

cockwarming ⚠︎

★shoto todoroki

oneshots

wherever you are - todoroki already broke your heart when he said he was leaving for 6 months, but kirishima can glue your broken heart back together before he returns, right? ⚠︎ ⓘ

★tamaki amajiki

oneshots

let me adore you - you’re scared tamaki doesn’t love you as much as you love him, but he’s just scared to show how much passion he has for you ⋆˚࿔ ⚠︎

★tenya iida

headcanons

heartbroken iida 𓆩♡𓆪

★yo shindo

drabbles

maniac - then tell them you hate me and dated me just for laughs/so why do you call me and tell me you want me back? 𓆩♡𓆪

[boom-bakugou]

howdy all! this is going to be my new and updated masterlist which will be added to from now on and linked in my bios and all my new fics xo

[boom-bakugou]

boom-bakugou’s masterlist

key:

ⓘ - trigger warnings 𓆩♡𓆪 - angst

⚠︎ - smut ⋆˚࿔ - fluff

★dabi

drabbles

cockwarming ⚠︎

headcanons

bathing with his s/o ⋆˚࿔

★denki kaminari

social media imagines

angst text imagines #1 𓆩♡𓆪

★eijiro kirishima

social media imagines

angst text imagines #1 𓆩♡𓆪

nepenthe (au, slice of life) DISCONTINUED ⋆˚࿔

oneshots

compare - kaminari and you are finished, officially. but what is he in comparison to your roommate kirishima? ⚠︎

drabbles

reacting to his s/o being harassed 𓆩♡𓆪 ⓘ

cockwarming ⚠︎

★fumikage tokoyami

drabbles

comfort crowd - yeah, i could spend a lifetime/sitting here talkin’/and even if i cry all over your body/you really don’t mind ⋆˚࿔ 𓆩♡𓆪

★hanta sero

social media imagines

angst text imagines #1 𓆩♡𓆪

drabbles

cockwarming ⚠︎

★hitoshi shinso

drabbles

won’t bite - closer to me baby, i won’t bite/you look so tasty, but i won’t bite/really i’m such a good kitty, don’t put up fights/but if you trick me, baby it gon’ get sticky ⚠︎

★izuku midoriya

drabbles

reacting to his s/o being harassed 𓆩♡𓆪 ⓘ

★katsuki bakugou

social media imagines

angst text imagines #1 𓆩♡𓆪

redamancy (sm!au, youtuber!au, angst, humour) ⋆˚࿔ 𓆩♡𓆪

oneshots

earn your title - it’s difficult being the sidekick to the infamous pro hero katsuki bakugou, and it’s even harder trying not to speak back to him. ⚠︎

message received - you thought your villainous father was out of your life for good. until the letters began to arrive 𓆩♡𓆪 ⓘ

wedding crashers - your ex-boyfriend izuku midoriya inviting you to his wedding is a definite stab in yours and katsuki’s backs. but you’ll show him. ⚠︎

busy woman - the only way you can get your ex-boyfriend katsuki out your head is if you keep yourself busy, busy, busy. ⚠︎

drabbles

reacting to his s/o being harassed 𓆩♡𓆪 ⓘ

cockwarming ⚠︎

(can we be best friends?) - and if anybody fucks with you/they fuck with me/so, if anybody fucks with you/i’ll knock their teeth out, yeah 𓆩♡𓆪 ⓘ

wish you were sober - tripped down the road, walking home/you kissed me at your door/pulling me close, begging me to stay over/but I’m over this rollercoaster 𓆩♡𓆪 ⓘ

headcanons

reader has braces ⋆˚࿔

reader is hot-headed like him ⋆˚࿔

★keigo takami (hawks)

oneshots

the three times - there were 3 times each when you and hawks thought of each other after your breakup 𓆩♡𓆪

let me into your heart - your evening endeavours are blissfully interrupted by a winged hero looking for a late night bite ⓘ ⚠︎ ⋆˚࿔ 𓆩♡𓆪

drabbles

bathing with his s/o ⋆˚࿔

cockwarming ⚠︎

★shoto todoroki

oneshots

wherever you are - todoroki already broke your heart when he said he was leaving for 6 months, but kirishima can glue your broken heart back together before he returns, right? ⚠︎ ⓘ

★tamaki amajiki

oneshots

let me adore you - you’re scared tamaki doesn’t love you as much as you love him, but he’s just scared to show how much passion he has for you ⋆˚࿔ ⚠︎

★tenya iida

headcanons

heartbroken iida 𓆩♡𓆪

★yo shindo

drabbles

maniac - then tell them you hate me and dated me just for laughs/so why do you call me and tell me you want me back? 𓆩♡𓆪

[boom-bakugou]

I’m so hyped to see you back! I still go back and read wedding crashers in the reg, I hope you’re doing well!

Thank you so much darlin!

I’m doing very well! Probably the best I’ve been in a long time and so happy I can freely be creative again

It’s also one of my faves and I also reread it from time to time— truly think it’s one of the best fanfics I’ve ever written, not to sound too proud hehe

[boom-bakugou]

‘Busy Woman’ - Katsuki Bakugou

summary: the only way you can get your ex-boyfriend katsuki out your head is if you keep yourself busy, busy, busy.

pairing: katsuki bakugou x gn!reader (also besties mina, uraraka, jirou and momo)

themes & cw: angst, ex-lovers, alcohol consumption, smut, dirty talk, biting, praise etc

word count: 5k

a/n: hi friends, remember me? i’ve recently regained my love for writing again and i really missed this fandom and this account. i hope to write much more in the coming future and thank you always for the support and love i have received before and during my hiatus. you’re all lovely souls, enjoy <3

masterlist

You stared at your phone screen through your cocoon of your blankets as the girls group chat lit up. Persistent pleadings from them all to come to dinner tonight, ‘just us girls’—‘for old times sakes’.

You can’t help but let your heart swell at their desperate begs to just see you. You, however, decide to send a photo of yourself wrapped in your robe, blankets, pillows, and puffy eyes from which was the last reminder that you were crying about your boyfriend—ex-boyfriend Katsuki Bakugou not even half an hour ago.

The heart reacts flood in despite you noting that this photo was forever for this groupchat’s eyes only, until Mina sends a rather threatening text.

Mina: That’s it, Uraraka and I are on our way.

Surely there was no getting out of this now.

Their arrival was swift, too swift in fact that you have to presume Mina must’ve sped her way there. They’re onto you in seconds, having been with you throughout most of the breakup anyway but this was the first time you’d been out in a long long time.

Prepped with hands full of outfits and eyeliner, they got right to work—after urging you to take a shower and being handed every exfoliator, moisturiser and essential oil known to man by Mina. Happy with their work, they set on doing their own makeup with you. Telling you about their lives, carefully dodging Bakugou in every concept even though your circles were so close.

As Mina stands, looking perfect with a dark rose lipstick and spiky eyelashes—offers to do your hair whilst you scroll through your phone. Graciously, you accept, giving a questionable look to her though at the monster of a hairspray can she had brought with her.

The three of you idly hum along to Uraraka’s ‘Hype Getting Ready Mix’ until you refresh your instagram. Bakugo’s familiar profile picture hovers beneath your thumbs and—hiding the phone deftly in front of your face—you click.

You see the clinking of pint glasses, the caption written in a bold literature font in the middle:

Cheers. Onto bigger and better things.

Ouch. You could feel yourself obliterate into a million pieces as the timer ran out and moved onto another story. You don’t even realise how much you’re welling up into the first tear spills and you hear yourself sniff. Mina, noticing your silence from a song the three of you normally sung together all the time pipes up.

”Y/N? What’s wrong?”

Her eyes glance down to your phone screen, Bakugo’s profile picture greyed out from whence you last viewed it. Putting down her tools, she picks your phone up and replays it for her own viewing—brow furrowed the whole time. It feels like years before you speak again, Uraraka staring at you both as she’s also just viewed it for the first time.

”Did you guys just invite me out so I wouldn’t see this?” You mumble, half accusatory but it loses its vigor towards the end of your sentence.

”Of course I knew they were going out—“ Mina bites the inner part of her cheek in anger. “Just not that he’d be a douchebag.”

”He just got a promotion at the agency he’s at.” Uraraka pipes up, she’d probably heard as much from Izuku. “Maybe it’s about that.”

That quells your nerves for a moment, what had you even ever done but love that man for him to say something like that. No, he wouldn’t—couldn’t—be that cruel.

”Yeah you’re right.” You give a half smile to your friends but it does nothing to stop one tear that rolls down your cheek as you tilt your head to look at them both.

Mina tuts sarcastically, running to your bathroom before running back with a tissue.

”Well aren’t I glad I used my waterproof setting spray?”

You can’t help but giggle at her.

”Look,” she starts softly, “you can cry about him, or you can turn into someone he’s scared to know.”

────────────────────

Dinner is fantastic. You didn’t realise how much the laughter filled you up, leaning on these girls you’ve been with for most of your life. Nothing matters apart from the conversation, the memories, the food and oh god the expensive wine Momo’s decided to get for the table. It’s delectable, all of it, and you lap up every moment as if it would be your last.

Jirou’s jokes make your ribs hurt, Mina reveals that she’s brought her Polaroid camera—one of her new impulse purchases. You smile at the group of you all for the camera, the waiter cracking a joke and taking a good few of you all. Mina passes them around the dinner table after dessert and during cocktails so everyone can take a picture for you all to keep.

You arrange them all prettily on your story, Momo adding little drawings over your shoulder whilst Jirou argues over what the choice of music should be when you posted it. And no matter what they said, you were happy with however they wanted it to look. You post it on your story with no care in the thought, watching as Mina calls the waiter over again for another round of cocktails.

You accept your fruity little drink from Mina with a cheeky glance, quickly looking at your phone. That’s when the tonne of bricks hits you again.

Missed call from Katsuki Bakugou.

Momo feels you tense beside her, her eyes flickering from your phone to back to you.

”You’re not going to call back are you?”

”No, of course not.” You roll your eyes with your words, as if the statement was obvious. But you could see the sad smiles from Uraraka and Mina across the table.

It also didn’t particularly help that after 3 more cocktails and a couple shots, mouth slurring over your words you whispered to Mina:

“I’d take him back in a heartbeat, Min.”

She says nothing, but gives you a soft smile.

────────────────────

A few months later, your mornings now start before the sun. You never allow your alarm to blare, only buzz you awake. Taking the morning at its fullest, moisturiser, black coffee with a splash of oat milk. Your favourite book on your coffee table.

Your calendar was always filled to the brim—pro hero meetings, workouts, late-night dinner with the girls. You would even double book yourself sometimes just to avoid that quiet. Giggling at brunch with a pair of Mina’s oversized sunglasses, crystalline goblets filled with mimosas catching the light. At the end of the day, you’re posting a story for your new growing pro-hero fame. Leaning against a rooftop railing, a contemplative song you’d always loved in the background.

Yet the truth is always tucked between the lines. The way you always leave one headphone out, just in case a familiar voice might call your name. The way you still keep your phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’ after that dinner. Not because you really want peace—but because you’re not fully sure if you could take seeing his name lighting up your screen again.

Your fans call you inspiring. Glowing. Strong.

They don’t see your late nights, where you lie in bed with your phone hovering over your face, thumb dangling over old messages you can’t bring yourself to delete.

They don’t see the moments you catch yourself in your reflection and remind yourself,

You’re not them anymore. You’re not the person he left.

Mina catches you deep in thought sitting on the Shinkansen with her and Jirou, clicking her fingers in your face as you remember what’s happening. Yes, clubbing with the girls.

”Are you okay with that Y/N?” Mina asks you, her brow threatening to furrow as she holds back her worried expression. “Kiri said he might not even show up, he didn’t reply to their texts.”

And oh yes, Mina said that the boys were probably going to be there too.

“Yeah,” You reply a little breathless, shaking your head to her as if it was the most obvious thing on the planet, “I’m here to dance with my girls after all!”

────────────────────

The thrum of the bass and the spill of the lights is so very enticing. Almost all anxiety washes away as Jirou and Mina take you hand and hand through the crowd of people to the bar. After a few drinks for confidence—not that Mina needed any—you were finally pulled on the dance floor.

Feeling as if every arm movement changed the note and the colour of the lights and hearing the two girls beside you whoop and holler at your well fitted club outfit—you couldn’t help but smile. Only every now and then would your eyes check the door. A glance. A flicker. Just in case.

”It’s my round!” You shout over the heavy thrum of a song you three weren’t particularly excited to dance to, you waver them on over to follow you to the bar. Mina gestures that she’s going to head to the bathroom and meet Jirou and you there for her drink.

You lean across the bar so the bartender can hear you over the music to order your drinks and try your best to chat to Jirou over the music. Until Mina, a little breathless, slips back to you two.

“Boys are here.” She winces a tad before adding gently, “Bakugou included.”

The world doesn’t spin. It slows.

”I said my hellos, but told them that we’re in the mood for dancing so we’re busy just now.” Mina gives you a little wink as the bartender places your drinks down.

”Anything else?” He questions, reaching for the card machine. You look to the crowd, then your friends before biting your lip and turning back to him.

”Could I get 3 tequila shots as well please?”

This earns a whoop from the girls. You pay, each take your shot and make your way to the busiest part of the dance floor, begging to be hidden with the crowd of bodies. Yet, as the heat of the dancing and the alcohol take over you, you can’t help but let loose—especially considering Jirou and Mina are.

You’re lost in the music with such a smile on your face until the crowd parts a little. And there he is. Bakugou, on the other side of the floor, flanked by Kirishima and Sero on one of the high tables at the side. You glance for a moment, hoping that you had just caught his eye by accident. But his eyes aren’t moving, just locked on you.

He doesn’t seem to give any notion to approach, so neither do you. Trying to not let Mina and Jirou notice what’s silently going on in your head. But the weight of that gaze burns.

Immediately feeling your dance moves become less focused and fun. Mina scowls toward Bakugou from across the floor, leading the three of you further into the dance pit.

”Ignore him,” Jirou’s eyes roll. “He shouldn’t get to look at you like that anymore.”

Yet, you can’t help but wonder— what was he seeing?

────────────────────

Days are quieter now. The party phase has passed, but you’re still just as busy filling your life up with things—just in quieter ways. Pro-hero late night work, lighting candles and journaling in margins. Your posts are now less curated, more real: blurry sunsets, a caption about exhaustion, a book you’re rereading for the 3rd time just for comfort.

Then you see it.

A text. From him.

Bakugou: You busy?

You don’t answer, how could you? What were you to say? You pace your room until your phone vibrates on your bed again, another message:

Bakugou: Can I see you?

────────────────────

It’s been months, hell, nearly a year. And Katsuki is still not over you, despite his own brain telling him it was the right thing to do to end things. He watches from a distance—never liking your posts, never commenting, but seeing them all. Your laugh, your clothes, the places he never went but promised he’d go with you. Your happiness.

At first, he told himself it was good. That you deserve this. He couldn’t give you soft things, couldn’t be gentle with his own emotions, let alone yours. But tonight he’s avoided it for long enough. He really thought he could let you go. Let you thrive. Let you forget about him. It was his own doing, and oh god how he regretted every inch of himself since the moment those words passed his lips.

But he never forgot you.

He’s watched every step of your recovery of him like a ghost—existing on the outskirts of your life always looking in. And the more you grew, the more he felt that the hollow space you left behind expanded. A hole he tore open himself.

So he decides to do something. Reckless. Without the backup, or forewarnings of Kirishima, Denki and Sero. He texts you.

You busy?

Can I see you?

He can barely believe his eyes when he sees your reply.

Y/N: It’s late Bakugou, what do you want?

Katsuki’s heart beats so loud it’s the only thing he can focus on. With bated breath, he begins his reply.

Just come downstairs okay?

There’s about 5 minutes before you respond. Each pound of his beating heart trying to escape his chest.

Y/N: ok.

────────────────────

You walk towards him with a newfound calm confidence. Trying to tell yourself that you’re better than whatever this was, but at least you’re not the one at his doorstep in the middle of the night. Tension weighs like a blanket in the air. Bakugou is standing under a lamppost with the same unreadable scowl that once scared people— but not you. No, never you.

”Didn’t think you were actually here.” You say quietly. “Had to come see for myself.”

Bakugou’s eyes glint in the dark, presumably reading past your false ‘walls-up’ stature.

”Didn’t think you’d answer.” He replies with an unexpected softness.

You have nothing to say, how could you? So you stare at him in the cold night air, expecting for him to maybe slur something out to you. Presuming him to be drunk. But Bakugou has never felt so sober in his whole life as he drank in your frame. Breath hitching from the cold, your long jacket clung to your body defensively as you stare at him from across the gap between you both,

”I saw everything.” He finally admits, voice breaking through the silence. “The pictures. Your friends. The clubs. You look good, look… happy.”

You stay quiet. Let him talk.

”And it tore me up.”

Bakugou finally looks you in the eyes. The same eyes you’ve always been in love with. That fervorous red that you could read a million different emotions from that no other could.

”I messed up. I pushed you away ‘cause I thought I was protecting you. From me. From this… chaotic, fucked up version of a life we live. I couldn’t ever bear to lose you, so I pushed you away.” He continues to rant. His hands flex at his sides, sparks popping involuntarily against his palms before he forces them still. “But I never stopped thinking about you. Not once. Not even for a goddamn second.”

Bakugou’s voice breaks slightly at the end, you can tell he’s biting back tears—but he steadies himself.

”I was proud of you. Watching you become someone I couldn't touch anymore? That’s what gutted me. I couldn’t move on, couldn’t imagine what we would've been if I hadn’t let my stupid anxieties get in the way.”

He stands up straighter, stepping closer to you to enclose the gap that separated you. You hadn’t even noticed yourself, but unconsciously you found yourself pulled to him, magnetised to his words.

”I don’t want someone else. I never have never did. I just want you. Even if it’s stupid. Even if you hate me. I just need you to know.”

You could walk away, you should, but you don’t.

”You hurt me,” You finally say, voice trembling. “You really hurt me Katsuki.”

”I know.” He replies, god, he wished he could hear you say his name a million times over and he’d never be sick of it.

”But I never stopped thinking about you either.” You sigh, your eyes flittering to the ground beneath you.

Bakugou is silent, with his eyes wide and his breath caught like a fish in a net. You look up to his slightly stunned expression, taking a step forward. Just to close the distance, to where you two were barely arms length from one another.

”So now what?” You whisper.

Bakugou has no room for words anymore in his brain. He’s poured out his heart which is what he thought he was less than capable of and now he can only think to act. His answer to you isn’t words— it's his hand brushing your cheek, and his mouth finding yours in a kiss that’s equal parts apology and desperation.

Your breath catches as his lips press against yours, warmth flooding through you despite the chill in the air. For a heartbeat, you begin to stiffen—old wounds flaring—before melting into him, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

When you both part, you exhale shakily, his forehead coming down to rest upon yours. You try to talk, your voice is barely above a whisper, laced with reluctant affection.

"You're still such a mess, Bakugo."

Your eyes dart back to his lips, missing the feeling of them there, his warmth, his taste.

“Kiss me again.” You speak so quietly you think the wind would take your words away as if you never spoke them.

“Still so fuckin’ demanding, aren’t ya?” Bakugou’s lips curl into a smirk. There’s a low growl rumbling from his throat but there’s no real bit behind it—just heat, just hunger. His palm cups the back of your neck roughly, pulling you flush against him as his mouth crashes into yours again. This time, it’s less hesitation and more possession, all fire and urgency like he’s trying to make up for every second wasted apart. Sparkles crackle faintly against your skin where his fingers dig in, but he reigns it in, keeping the explosions simmering beneath the surface instead of letting them erupt. When he finally—reluctantly—pulls back, his breathing is ragged, pupils blown wide.

”Happy now?” He mutters, thumb swiping roughly over your bottom lip like he can’t help himself.

”Oh shut up,” You breathe, pressing another quick, teasing kiss to his mouth before leaning back just far enough to meet his burning gaze.

”I’ve got loads of lost time to make you pay for Katsuki. Don’t act like one damn kiss fixes anything.” There's a challenge in your tone, but the way your free hand traces idle patterns along his collarbone betrays your softer truth underneath—that you’d forgive him a thousand times over if it meant keeping him close like this. You shiver as another breeze hits you in the night.

”Do you want to come up to mine? Get out the cold?”

”Tch,” he grumbles, but the way his fingers immediately tighten around your waist gives him away entirely. “About time you asked.”

Without warning, he scoops you up bridal-style, ignoring your indignant squawk as he starts marching toward the building like a man on a mission.

”Quick wriggling, brat. Faster this way,” he barks, though the rough edge in his voice does nothing to hide the fact that his ears are turning pink.

You loop your arms around his neck, pressing a playful kiss to his heated ears with a breathless laugh.

“God, you’re insufferable,” You tease with an undeniable fondness in your voice. As you both reach the door, you fumble for your keys, shooting him a sly glance.

”And here I thought heroes were supposed to be patient.”

You do your best from your angle to unlock the door, Bakugou keeping his tightest grip on you as he steps in the threshold, kicking your apartment door shut harder than necessary with his foot.

”Patient? The hell kinda extras have you been hanging around with?” The second the door clicks that it’s locked, Bakugou sets you down. Pinning you against the nearest wall, caging you with his body. One hand braces your head while the other grips your thigh to hitch around his hip. His breath fans hot against your lips, voice dropping to a dangerous rasp.

”Real heroes take what they want.”

Then he’s kissing you again—deep, claiming, all tongue and teeth and zero restraint. Like he’s determined to brand himself into your memory so you never forget who owns you ever again. You gasp against his mouth, nails digging into his shoulders as he presses you further into the wall. Every inch of you burns under his touch, arching instinctively into him.

”Is that right?” You manage between kisses, “Prove it then, Dynamight.”

Throwing challenge down like gasoline on open flame—because if there’s one thing Katsuki Bakugou never backs down from, it’s proving he’s the best. Especially when it comes to you.

“Cheeky little shit,” he grows against your lips, pinning your wrists above your head against the wall with one large hand. His other, trails down your side possessively calloused fingertips leaving fire in their wake. Every moment or two an unrestrained spark jumps from his fingertips, his instinct taking over.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” His words vibrate against your skin, and the predatory intensity in his eyes could make you melt.

Then he’s dragging you toward the bedroom with single-minded determination. Knowing the way still like he’d ever left, he works on stripping off his own shirt mid-stride because he has waited long enough. He needs to make up for everything the best way he knows how.

Laughter bubbles within you despite the dizzying rush of desire as he pulls you towards your bedroom. Your back hits the mattress, and you prop yourself up on your elbows, watching him with half-lidded eyes as he yanks his shirt off.

”Mmm, someone’s eager,” you purr, toeing off your shoes before reaching up for him. Your fingers trace the defined lines of his abdomen, reveling in the way his scarred muscles tense beneath your touch.

”Eager?” He grits out, catching your wandering wrist and pinning it beside your head as he cages over you. “Try fucking starving.”

His knee nudges your legs apart, settling between them with a. Low grown when he feels how affected you already are. That cocky grin of his turns downright feral as he drags his teeth along your pulse point.

“Better scream loud enough for the whole building, baby. Let them know who’s making you feel this good again.”

A sharp gasp escapes you as his teeth graze your neck, hips arching impulsively against his. Your free hand fists in his blonde spikes, tugging just hard enough to force his fiery gaze back to yours.

”As if I’d ever let anyone else try,” You say with a voice thick with promise—then you’re surging up to capture his mouth again, pouring every ounce of frustration, longing and sheer need into it.

“Damn right you won’t,” he rasps against your lips before sealing them with another searing kiss. His free hand makes quick work of the rest of your clothes, tossing them aside with impatient roughness. When skin meets skin, he lets out a guttural noise— half triumph, half desperation— as his calloused palms map every curve like he’s memorising you all over again. Odysseus returning home from war, to his Penelope. His.

Suddenly, he pauses, hovering above you with darkened eyes.

”Look at me,” he demands, voice gravelly with unchecked want. When you obey, he smirks—sharp, victorious—before grinding his hips down in one slow, deliberate roll that steals the breath from your lungs.

And oh, you do.

Back bowing off the bed as the pleasure ripples through you, a broken moan tearing from your throat at the friction. Your eyes locking onto his with defiant lust even as your thighs tremble around him.

“Only ever yours, Katsuki,” you pant, nails scoring down his bare back as you try to pull him impossibly closer. “Always yours.”

The admission hangs heavy between you—raw and honest in ways words alone could never convey. Then you’re rolling your hips up against his with matching intent, teeth sinking into your lower lip just to watch his control snap.

”Fuck—“ His entire body jerks at your movements a string of curses exploding from his lips as his composure cracks. In one fluid motion, He flips you onto your stomach, pressing you down into the mattress hit the full weight of his torso. Hot breath ghosts over the shell of your ear as he nips at it, voice dripping with sinful promise.

”Say it again.”

One hand tangles in your hair, tugging just shy of painful to expose your neck for his teeth while the other slides between your thighs. He knows you like an old favourite book, reading your lines as he works expertly, relentlessly on you.

”Tell the whole goddamn city who’s making you feel like this.”

A choked cry escapes you as his hand and fingers find their mark, spine arching desperately into his touch. Your fingers claw at the sheets, knuckles whitening with the effort to hold on as pleasure threatens to consume you whole.

“K-Katsuki—!” You sob his name like a prayer, voice crackling under the onslaught of sensation. “Yours, only yours—please.”

Your voice stoops low, barely a hushed whisper as you try to compose yourself to string a sentence together. “I missed you. I need you.”

The words dissolve into a keening whine as his teeth sink into the junction of your shoulder, branding me in the most primal way possible. Stars burst behind your eyelids—coherence shattered, pride obliterated, utterly ruined by the man who swore to never let you go ever again.

”I missed you being so good for me.” Bakugou rumbles against your sweat-slicked skin, the praise gruff but achingly sincere. His pace slows just enough to savour the way you fall apart beneath him—every twitch, every gasp, every whispered plea catalogued in his mind like a trophy.

Then, with a. Brutal thrust that punches the air from your lungs, he claims you completely. “Now take what‘s yours too,” he growls, fingers interlacing with yours against the mattress as he sets a punishing rhythm designed to wreck you beyond repair.

Every nerve ending alights as your bodies move in perfect sync, your cries muffled against the pillow until you can’t take it anymore—flipping onto your back to wrap both legs tightly around his waist, forcing him deeper.

You drag his forehead to yours, your shared breaths mingling in the scant space between you both. “I wanna see you when I break.”

And oh, the sight is exquisite—his features twisted in rapture, sweat-drenched bangs clinging to his brow, those usually fierce crimson eyes glazed over with his desire. Just for you, always for you.

With one final shuddering roll of your hips, you both tip over the edge, his name torn from your lips like a vow as the world whites around you.

”Sh-shit—fuck—“ Bakugou’s entire body locks up as he follows you over, forehead pressed harshly against yours as he spills inside you with ragged groans at each spurt of his cock. For several seconds, neither of you moves—just gasping, trembling, tangled together in the aftershocks.

Slowly, he collapses atop you, his spent weight warm and grounding. His fingertips are slick with sweat and you smell that familiar nitroglycerin aroma, just like caramel. He brushes a few strands of your hair from your eyes, gently, as if you might break at any further touch.

”…Still got it.” He mumbles against your neck, smug as hell despite being thoroughly wrecked himself.

You feel laughter bubbling up despite your panting, weakly shoving at his shoulder as your limbs tingle still from the intensity of it all.

”Yeah, yeah, don’t let it go to your head more than it already has,” You tease, tracing lazy circles on his back as he finds comfort beside you on your bed. Despite the exhaustion weighing heavy on your bones, contentment settles deep in your chest—a quiet certainty that this is exactly where you’re meant to be.

A beat passes, you tilt your chin to nip playfully at his earlobe.

”…but just so we’re clear, this”—you gesture between the two of you, his eyes watching you with the same fervour as always, ready to hear your gospel—“doesn’t mean you’re off the hook for being a stubborn asshole.”

He looks a tad surprised before you add softly:

”…Stay tonight?”

”Tch.” He grunts, but there’s no real irritation behind it—just drowsy satisfaction as he shifts to pull you tighter against him. “Like I’d ever leave you again.

One arm snakes under your neck while the other drapes heavily across your waist, effectively trapping you against his chest.

”’Sides,” he mutters into your hair, voice already slurring with sleep, “Gotta remind everyone who you belong to when they hear you screaming my name again in the morning.”

You could hear his shit-eating grin even from behind you, you give a playful little elbow to his abdomen before tuckering down for sleep. Feeling like you could have the best sleep with the man you love wrapped around you once again.

Within minutes, his breathing evens out—the rare, peaceful slumber of a man, who finally got what he wanted back.

[boom-bakugou]

Not a request but i wanted to ask, HOW DID YOU DO THAT, FLAMEY THING IN YOUR HOME PAGE ITS SO COOL!

hi! i just matched the colour from my blog to a photo and drew the flames on myself so it would look like it blended together :3 thanks tho!

[boom-bakugou]

*dusts cobwebs off of account*

hi

[boom-bakugou]

i just finished ‘in another life’ it is 6am and i have yet to sleep because i’ve been crying so fucking hard

[kinsurou]

¡Hola, Prism! For your prompt event, can I ask for “Behave.” and “The only way you’re getting off is on my thigh.” with Overhaul and a fem!reader, please??? And I hope it's okay to ask for some degradation as well 👉🏼👈🏼 Thanks and please have a lovely day/night 💕

24. “Behave.” 

41. “The only way you’re getting off is my thigh.”

+Degradation.

Hola Darling! it's perfectly fine! Hope I got Overhaul's character well!  

Thank you for helping me out with the dialogue, @lovelusional and @boom-bakugou!

“Kai, please…! I said...I’m sorry!” You whimper, sweat covered face pressed harshly against Kai’s toned shoulder. Much to his disgust, judging by the deep rumble coming from his throat. 

You can only dream to touch him right now, desperate to hold on to something for dear life as one of the hands belonging to your lover AND boss guides you by the waist over his toned thigh. But the desire it’s delusional, impossible when both wrists are tied up in front of you with the leather of his belt, preventing you from touching the man glaring at you.

His other hand is busy propelling his chin against his knuckles, watching through bored eyes that hide a wave of frightening anger underneath as you quiver under his gloved hands.

“Behave.” His voice drops an octave, gloved fingers digging harshly into your skin, he presses you down harder against him and looks down at the mess all over his bare skin. Being so close to his warmth nearly makes your body go limp against his chest if it wasn’t for him pulling you back by the hair. 

“You’re so damn filthy. Can’t believe you’re actually getting off from all this.” It’s a miracle he hasn’t broken into hives. “look at you, desperate to get off. So goddam ignorant and disgusting.”

The friction against your clit keeps increasing, he just won’t stop guiding you back and forth, not even caring of the wetness that’s smeared on him, or the small moans filled with desperation.

“That little stunt of yours could have cost us everything” his now free hand fondles your tit carelessly, pinching the nipple and tugging painfully enough until you start tearing up in front of him. Looking down, you can see him starting to become aroused by the little display of pain and pleasure his gloved hands provide.

He’s more sadistic than anyone could imagine. When he said he wouldn’t touch you, he really meant it. 

“Look at me when I’m talking to you. Dumb whore.” 

Glassy orbs look away from the erection pressing hard against his briefs, so close that you can graze it with your knees every now and then, feeling the damp trail at the underside of his member.

“I…” The fog inside your head thickens by the second with every brush of your abused clit against smooth skin that’s been thoroughly taken care of, clouding every single thought as it makes your brain go haywire for a moment “I’m sorry, Kai.”

Another harsh pull on your nipple makes you shriek loudly, snapping you out of the daze just to be met once again with a cold, harsh glare from those beautiful, sharp golden eyes. 

“That’s boss to you. Are you really that stupid?” 

“I’m sorry...boss.”

He pulls you closer to his body, pressing your soaked folds down, harder against his muscles and the need for release becomes unbearable “Please. I need, I need to cum so badly…!”

“Why should I reward my stupid subordinate, when she couldn’t even accomplish the simplest of tasks?”

his hold completely abandons you, the lack of contact turns you into a whiny mess over your leader’s lap.

“The only way you’re getting off is my thigh.” 

Breaking eye contact he ignores your presence to take a quick look at the expensive watch around his wrist. “Better make it quick, we have a meeting with the league of villains in ten minutes.” 

[boom-bakugou]

i... am becoming a simp for overhaul oh no

pleasure to help out with this gr8 ficlet tho!!!!! so worth the read !!!

[boom-bakugou]

Hi there! I LOVE your work to death. However I was wondering if you had any nsfw recommendations? Writers or fics?

hey there friend! thank you so much i’m glad you love my stuff!! here are some of my personal recommendations of fics! (these are in no particular order)

sweet on me by @keiqos

summary: keigo lets it slip he has a breeding kink

wet pleasures by @pleasantanathema

summary: shinsou and you shower together after a tough battle with a goo villain

shinsou says by @shoutogepi

summary: shinsou comes over in the dead of the night to find you touching yourself without permission, and he immediately has the perfect punishment in mind

#PegHawks2020 by @hawks-senseis

summary: you peg hawks, that’s it. that’s the plot

Fact or Fiction? by @myherowritings

summary: you and pro hero ground zero are shipped together and bakugou is tagged in some saucy fanfiction

Possession by @lady-bakuhoe (tw:dub-con)

summary: pro hero grand has turned villainous and your favourite pro; ground zero comes to save the day

Thin Walls by @rat-suki

summary: katsuki is loud, obnoxiously so. and you’re the one that has to deal with it

just a few out of the many i have!!! sorry there’s so much bakugou, but these writers also have other amazing fics !! enjoy!

[boom-bakugou]

Okay I hate asking but if you find that fic could you please tag me - 🥺

hey there sweetie!

sadly the original fic ensnare has been deleted but part 2 by gallickingun is still up on ao3.

it’s angsty but well worth the read. it’s stunning

welded hearts

[boom-bakugou]

RIGHT OKAY I REMEMBER THIS FIC BUT I CANT FIND IT ANYWHERE

tw: dubcon

i’m pretty sure it was a bakugou x reader but awase welds bakugou to a wall whike he fucks the reader and then there was a part 2 but it wasn’t written by the original author but i remember it had the line

‘you look at me like i put the fuckin’ sun in the sky’

PLS HELP

[boom-bakugou]

‘Wherever You Are’ - Shoto Todoroki/Eijiro Kirishima

A/N: This piece is for my @bnhabookclub bingo card! I’m crossing out “Be Quiet” and ‘Heated Argument’. I would also like to thank @honeytama @shoutogepi and @dragonhrte for beta reading <333

Pairings: Pro Hero!Todoroki x F!Reader / Pro Hero!Kirishima x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, mutual masturbation, minor temperature play, minor angst!

Summary: Todoroki already broke your heart when he said he was leaving for 6 months, but Kirishima can glue your broken heart back together before he returns…right?

Word Count: 5.2k

masterlist

“6 months.”

The words stung more than they should’ve. Half a year of not being able to see his face, hold his hand, sleep together in the same bed.

“Does it have to be so long? Do you really have to go?”

God your mind ran at a hundred miles a minute. Searching his face for any semblance of wanting to rethink the offer about heroing in America. But the sympathetic glance in his eyes was enough to tell you what his words could not.

Of course you were proud of him, of course you were. It wasn’t a minor thing in his career and not many heroes would be selected for such an astounding opportunity. Top heroes in Japan touring around America to show their quirks and how different cultures portrayed their heroes. A bit flamboyant for Todoroki but you presumed he was only following as Deku and Ground Zero were also picked for the once-in-a-lifetime gig.

“I’ll be back before you know it baby, I promise.”

So you took that promise to heart.

Keep reading

[boom-bakugou]

thank you for the feedback! i’ll try and do better in the future.

just so you know, this fic was loosely based on a real experience i had (as some of my fics are). it’s not meant to be healthy which is what i’ll dive deeper into in future chapters. please take that into consideration for yourself. thanks!

[gallickingun]

I’m really soft for the idea of having to use your safe word with Bakugou and he immediately snaps into the most nurturing boyfriend. He’s gone from pounding into you and slapping you around, to holding you to his chest and stroking your hair. He’d run you a bath and while you soaked in there he’d make you some comfort food which he’d feed you later in bed.

a/n: this got p long so i’m putting it under a read more!  tw: degradation

It’s all too much.

“I want to hear you beg for my perfect cock, you little slut,” his lips are curling and all you can see is your own self-hatred reflected to you in his carmine irises. A slap resounds against your cheek but it’s hard to process, save for the way your face turns into the pillow. Bakugou’s hand drifts from your jaw to your throat, encasing the tender muscles within his grasp and squeezing.

You start to see stars when you hear him say, “I said beg, you pathetic bitch, or else I’ll have to punish you for not listening.”

Your heart is pounding, your eyes are pouring tears, and your thighs are starting to clench to the point of pain that no longer feels like pulsing pleasure. You can barely find it in you to form words because your tongue feels warped and heavy within your mouth, but the second you manage to force that very special phrase out of your teeth, the whole world stops spinning.

Bakugou’s hand loosens against your throat and his hips still, buried to the hilt within you, the domineering mask slipping from his expression, “S-Say it again.”

You’re embarrassed, but you repeat the phrase, a choking sob breaking it up in the middle. You turn your head into the pillow so you don’t have to look at him when his face twists in anger or frustration, your hands covering what visibly remains of your face so he can’t see your crumpled features.

“Hey,” Bakugou’s voice is uncharacteristically soft and the sound of it makes you whimper. He doesn’t pull out of you, not yet, because he’s afraid the sudden change might bring another round of emotions to the surface, “Come back to me, princess, I’m right here.”

The gentle way his fingers circle around your wrists could make you cry for another reason entirely, and the crooning of his deep voice in your ear makes your toes curl. You clench your jaw in favor of looking up at him, focusing on the pain that is now throbbing in your gums. Your cheek still stings from the smack you received not but moments prior to your outcry, and you wonder if the skin is as red as you think it might be.

“D-Do you want me to pull out?” His voice is timid, and timid is not something well-known to Bakugou Katsuki. You are shaking your head adamantly, begging with your hands twisting in his grip to hold him by the forearms, eyes wild as you finally glance up at him, “P-Please don’t leave me.”

Bakugou is hushing you, curling his body further into you so he is filling you to the base of him, his knees tucking tightly against your hips and his arms circling around your shoulders to hold you close.

“I’m right here,” he repeats the sentiment from earlier, kisses against your temple. You swear you feel the telltale sign of damp tears against your skin and hair, but you don’t have the wherewithal to take much notice. His cock twitches withing your core and it’s comforting somehow, in tandem with the way he is kissing over your face and running the tip of his nose against your skin, providing you with all the tactile relief he can muster, “I’m not going anywhere, princess, I’m right here.”

He repeats that phrase several times, until your breathing has gone from erratic to something much more calm. Bakugou kisses the space on your chest where your heart would be, “Just breathe, baby. It’s okay, you’re okay. Come back down, I’m right here.”

Your palms press against his chest and he’s taken aback at the sudden contact, irises widening to swallow his pupils. He brushes your hair from your eyes, noting how you flinch at the sight of his hand so close to your face, and his soul cracks in half. Bakugou’s voice is wavering as he whispers, “I-I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”

You are shaking your head and trying to keep him from apologizing, but he tucks your head into his chest and rolls to the side so he can cradle you within the cage of his arms, “Don’t.”

Bakugou’s fingertips sift through your hair and down your neck, massaging at the base of your scalp and shoulders. You can hear something akin to humming in your ear, and after a few moments, you realize that Bakugou is singing. A new set of tears well up in your eyes, but you dig yourself further into the cavity of his shoulder, your nose tucked against his throat so you can breathe in his scent.

“I love you,” he grits out the words, kissing your temple, “I hope you know that.”

You tilt your head back so you can look him in the eyes, tears still settled in your lids and caked on your lashes, “I love you too, Katsuki.”

A smile graces his features, and you swear you’ve seen the sun. Pushing yourself up with the gentle movement of your legs, you rub your noses together, closing your eyes as he connects your foreheads, “I’m gonna run you a bath, okay? Help you wash up.”

Your hand reaches upward to cup his cheek, closing your eyes so you can drink in the closeness you have with him at this very moment in time. Your whole body is warm, and your mind is in a haze as you come down from your emotionally spiked high. You can’t help it as you angle your head just enough to meld your lips to his.

The action takes Bakugou by surprise at first, and he doesn’t react to your kissing. You start to pull back once you’ve realized that he isn’t reciprocating, but he’s caught you before you can retreat. He winds his arms around your shoulders and tilts his head forward to capture your lips once again. He is firm, but not so much so that you feel trapped, but rather you feel safe.

Bakugou gathers you up in his arms, gently unsheathing himself from you to cause less stinging at the sudden change of stretch, and walks you into the bathroom. You’re deposited on the counter while he runs the bath water, trying to get the tub to the perfect temperature before transferring you into the sudsy pool. He’s careful as he washes your hair, dipping your head back into the fragrant bubbles and massaging your scalp. 

He stands to his feet once your hair has been rinsed, the bubbles floating around your body popping once they come into contact with your skin. With one last pass through your hair, he retracts his fingers, “I”m going to go make dinner, okay? Let you soak in here a minute longer without me sitting up your ass.”

A giggle parts your lips, and there is a pressure lifted from his chest that he did not realize he was harboring. He clutches at his heart, wrapping his fingers around his pectoral so he can make sure the organ is still beating. The pounding thud against his palm gives him relief and then a smile takes over.

The next time he sees you is when you’re fumbling down the stairs, your body clad in one of his old merch designs, a shirt that falls down to your thighs, just enough to cover your ass. Bakugou smirks, knowing full well that you can make anything look this good.

“What do you want? Action, comedy, romance, or anime?” Bakugou carries two plates of spicy meat and rice to the coffee table where he’s already set up drinks and snacks to go along with dinner. You settle on a comedy movie and he pulls you into his lap, your back pressed against his chest so he can spoon feed you dinner, your headspace still recovering from earlier. The affectionate gesture seems to be over the top, but you are not one to tell Bakugou no when it comes to expressing his admiration to you through his actions. 

It is hours later when you are drifting off to sleep, your head on Katsuki’s chest, and you hear that same tune from earlier being sung into your ears, the vibrations in his chest only furthering your lull into sleep. Bakugou is brushing his fingers against the dated t-shirt in various patterns, the warmth radiating from his body dredging your mind into a sedated state.

“Hey,” he calls to you, bringing your attention to his face with a knuckle crooked underneath your chin. A kiss is pressed to your forehead, and when he pulls away, his voice is gentle, “Where’s my girl?”

You cannot help the dopey grin that tugs on your lips, wriggling your way closer to him so you can rub your nose against his, “I’m right here, ‘Suki.”

And you seal the promise of your presence with a kiss before falling back against his embrace, allowing him to hold together your broken pieces as if he were human glue. The final thing you notice just before you drift into the realm of unconsciousness is the song being sung in your ear.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you keep me happy when skies are gray. Don’t you know dear, how much I love you? Please don’t take my sunshine away.”

-

a/n: wow that got sappy real quick. i hope this was what you were wanting!

[boom-bakugou]

i am SOFT I AM SOFT

it is 4:43am and i am SOBBING MY HEART OUT

[boom-bakugou]

D and Y for that ask game!!

d - is there a song/playlist that you associate with any fics?

many!

- wherever you are (todo/kiri fic) is based on wherever you are by 5sos and a wip chapter is based off of close as strangers by them also!

- the three times (hawks fic) makes me think of ghost of you by 5sos or cherry by harry styles

- nepenthe (kiri smau) makes me think of broken by lovelytheband

- i listened to take me away by scotty sure while writing wedding crashes (bakugo fic)

- and redamancy (bakugo smau) makes me think of crush by tessa violet

and many more but i can’t remember them all rn lol

y - a character you want to protect

bakugo...... i resonate with that boy so much it’s sad

but also the reader lol sorry i put you through so much angst but i hope the smut makes up for it (;

[boom-bakugou]

ask game thingy —- o, k, and s😗✌️💕💕

o - how do you begin a story, is it plot or characters?

probably plot first, i can’t just come up with an idea on the spot if i’m like ‘i wanna write a story about this character’. for example, my hawks fic ‘the three times’ was based on a tweet i saw about someone’s parents getting divorced. i take inspo from a lot of things and figure out who is best for the situation!

k - what is the angstiest idea you’ve ever come up with?

that hawks fic definitely is up there. also nepenthe, the next chapter is a DOOZEY. although i also do have a bakugo idea in the mix currently which is super heartbreaking 😳

s - any fandom tropes you can’t resist?

dabi is a todoroki or deaf bakugo headcanons )):

(however nsfw wise)

hawks having a breeding kink bc of his quirk 😗✌️