𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗜 𝗜𝗡 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗪𝗔𝗠𝗜 || 𝗦𝗛𝗘/𝗛𝗘𝗥 || 𝗧𝗪𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗬 + || 𝗠𝗗𝗡𝗜
𝖠𝖮𝟥 || 𝖱𝖯 𝖡𝖫𝖮𝖦
𝗋𝗎𝗅𝖾𝗌 || 𝗇𝖺𝗏𝗂 || 𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 || 𝗐𝗂𝗉𝗌 || 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍
𝖱𝖾𝖼𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌:
↳ 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖣𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗈𝗇 𝖱𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖵 || 𝖪.𝖡𝖺𝗄𝗎𝗀𝗈𝗎
↳ 𝖬𝗂𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗋 𝖬𝗂𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗋, 𝗈𝗇 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖶𝖺𝗅𝗅 || 𝖳.𝖪𝗎𝗋𝗈𝗈
YOU ARE THE REASON

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@dienamights
𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗜 𝗜𝗡 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗪𝗔𝗠𝗜 || 𝗦𝗛𝗘/𝗛𝗘𝗥 || 𝗧𝗪𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗬 + || 𝗠𝗗𝗡𝗜
𝖠𝖮𝟥 || 𝖱𝖯 𝖡𝖫𝖮𝖦
𝗋𝗎𝗅𝖾𝗌 || 𝗇𝖺𝗏𝗂 || 𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 || 𝗐𝗂𝗉𝗌 || 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍
𝖱𝖾𝖼𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌:
↳ 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖣𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗈𝗇 𝖱𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖵 || 𝖪.𝖡𝖺𝗄𝗎𝗀𝗈𝗎
↳ 𝖬𝗂𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗋 𝖬𝗂𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗋, 𝗈𝗇 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖶𝖺𝗅𝗅 || 𝖳.𝖪𝗎𝗋𝗈𝗈
if i think about the first couple of times you and bakugou hook up genuinely it's like -5 hp -5 hp -5 hp -5 hp for every second my brain spends visualizing it
i just think it's a lot of disbelief and like continous overwhelming pleasure for him. not even from having sex, i think the first few rolls of your hips against his on the couch have him like kinda gasping into your mouth. forehead to forehead, nose to nose, not even really kissing just breathing against each other. and when he finds the rhythm to match you and is grinding into you slowly and so hard in his pants, he's almost totally oblivious to every single thing else. there is nothing else in the world that exists but you and him on that couch.
and if you kiss him on the cheek and then the temple and move down to his neck, to the soft, sensitive skin of his throat, i think he's fisting the throw pillows and squeezing his eyes shut, distantly trying to tell himself not to make an embarrassing sound out loud. it's like overwhelming how good it feels, nothing else he's ever done before then has made him feel so out of his own mind incredible. he's like a fully exposed nerve you're touching just right.
and with your legs spread open wide to accommodate him, i think he will hesitantly explore the soft skin of your thighs, in sort of awe that you'll let him touch you like that, that you want him to, and everything is so tender and wanting and he thinks it can't possibly get any better—but it all kind of suddenly sharpens when he feels you slipping your hand down his tummy, past the band of his pants. then i think his eyes are shooting open and he's half-gasping, half-groaning out a quiet, "wait, shit—"
HE'S SO HANDSOME
˗ˏˋ ꒰ to: @dienamights ! ꒱ ˎˊ˗
my timeskip ochako
Katsuki is probably on so many painkillers here while also thinking of starting that hero suit project
Some random X trend.
@crowwbones
katsuki who can be kind of an asshole sometimes cause he just loves riling you up. he thinks you're adorable. you don't like asking him for things, especially when you're needy. and he knows you well enough for you not to have to ask, but sometimes he just likes hearing it from you.
you're both in bed, scrolling on your phones before you go to sleep when you place a hand on his cheek and give him a real sweet kiss with a deep hunger just barely contained. when you pull back slightly and look at him, gaze full of lust and hope, you expect him to immediately give in and take charge like he normally does.
but when you're met with that cocky smirk that comes out every once in a while, your heart drops––you know what's coming.
you just look at him and his eyes drop to your mouth, back up to your eyes. "what?"
you blink at him, lips so close to forming a pout. he knows what.
he smirk widens though he tries to keep it at bay. "you want something baby?"
you lean back even more and let your hand drop from his face. you let out a huff and pull back completely. "no." you look at your nails, practically pouting to yourself and he's trying not to full on smile, you're just so cute.
"you sure?"
"yes." you basically grumble back and turn your back on him pettily. "m'going to sleep. goodnight."
you hear him place his phone on the nightstand and feel the bed shift as he moves closer to you. you can feel the warmth emanating from him as he presses up against you.
his arm slides around your waist and it feels like your whole body shivers in anticipation. he kisses your shoulder and your body immediately sinks into him, betraying your mind trying to hold your ground and be annoyed with him.
his hand grips your waist and you press back into him, taking a deep breath when you feel that he's already hard. he slides his leg between yours and you gasp. his hand slips to your stomach and you turn back, eyes meeting his, your hand reaching to tug at his hair.
he leans in, lips grazing yours. "tell me the truth baby. what do you want?"
you feel the irritation bubbling back up inside of you, your brows furrowing as you glare at him, but it slips back down when his leg pushes against you just right.
"just...please." you're breathless and whiny already and god it drives him crazy, but he wants you to be vocal tonight, he needs it.
"please what?"
your body tenses up, "god you-" he cuts you off with the feeling of his hand on your stomach sliding down to your waistband, barely slipping past. but it's enough to break your resolve.
your back arches, "please fuck me katsuki, i need it. please?" you're desperate and needy and just the way he wants you.
he smiles against your lips. "there's my girl."
his fingertips slide through your folds just as he kisses you and you both moan into the kiss. his voice takes that soothing but slightly patronizingly sweet tone that gets you wet. "that wasn't so hard was it, sweetheart?"
you whimper and buck into his touch and he laughs. "i'll give you what you need, don't worry."
© adoringmha 2025
𝐃𝐘𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓. isn't stupid. Far from it, actually. He knows exactly what you're doing.
“I like blonde guys.” "Scars aren't a bad thing! I think they make people super hot!" "He's got a nice pair of arms on him, that's for sure."
But it keeps his head big. Keeps his hero ego as big as it is, if not bigger. So the pro hero pretends not to hear it. But he does. Every word, every giggle, and all the fawning between you and your coworkers right outside his office.
"And I love his wings~"
And when you say shit like that, Bakugou knows that you're not stupid either.
He whips around, and you're already staring at him. You're grinning. Letting him know that he stumbled (or did he just walk?) right into your trap. He stomps right up to your desk and drops a heavy hand on the surface. You don't even flinch. You just blink up innocently at him.
"Last time I checked," he grumbles, "I don't have any damn wings."
"Of course you don't." You reply, way too sweet, "I was talking about Hawks."
His jaw clicks. "Stop talking about Hawks and--"
You lean forward and bat your lashes. And if you calling him out didn't do him in, that did. "Talk about you instead?"
"--do your damn job!"
crying this morning about this fuckass tweet about katsuki and his dad. ok
thinking still about old man bakugou im SORRY (not at all) but i know that man is taking psychic fucking damage anytime someone ever assumes he's your dad . lol. like some random cashier going "did your dad find whatever he was looking for?" and the immediate horrified splutter of NOT DAD. 100% NOT THEIR DAD. red from the top of his head to his fucking collarbones lmao <3 careful gramps don't wanna have a heart attack <333
Hiii Nami how are you! It's been ages since I saw you pop up on my dash just wanted to drop by & say Hiii 🥰
Hello my love !! I’m doing alright wby? I hope you’re well and taking care !💗💗 mhm mhm ! I’m mostly lurking and sometimes interacting here and there! So sweet of you to drop by many kisses for you !💗💗💗
whipping this out of nowhere i feel so INSANEEEE im literally gonna throw up thinking abt this goddamn old man
you hear him before you see him—
the slow, careful shift of sheets, the heavy exhale through his nose, a muttered curse as he sits up. it’s barely light, the sky outside tinted blue-grey, and you catch the silhouette of his back— broad, slouched, silver streaks catching soft morning light. he rubs his neck, an old injury bothering him, then scrubs a hand down his face and lets out a low, bone-deep groan.
“fuck. gettin’ old.”
you should be asleep. shouldn’t be watching katsuki fumble for his glasses on the nightstand, shoving them up his nose with a grumble. you definitely shouldn’t be watching the way his sweatpants hang low on his hips, the little flash of tummy where his shirt’s ridden up.
but you are.
and god, you’re squirming, heat pooling low in your belly, cheeks burning.
he stretches, spine popping so loud you almost wince.
“y'good over there?” his voice is rough, sleep-thick, but there’s a glint in his eye when he turns, catching you staring like a lovesick idiot.
you try to hide your face in the pillow, but he’s already smirking, one brow arched, looking all annoyingly handsome with those damn glasses and that messy, silver-laced hair.
“what, y'get off on watchin’ me limp around?”
you just make a strangled sound, mortified, and he laughs, all low and warm.
“sick little freak,” he mutters, fond, sliding back onto the mattress and hauling you close, the aches forgotten now, his lips brushing your ear—
“c’mere. think s'funny? hips still work fine, y'want proof of purchase?”
ROMANTIC LEAD
an: short, fluff. going on a date with bf bkg!
it’s one of those fridays after work where you rush home to get ready for your date tonight. you’ve only texted your date once today when he texted first with only,
You still good for tonight?
you were definitely still good for tonight. blasting your favourite tunes as loud as possible as you shuffled yourself in a dress that definitely wasn’t weather appropriate— but making up for it with a cute cardigan under your jacket.
now it’s the part you always hate with dates. the bouncing on your feet, a little jig to somehow conserve your body heat’s your fluffy black jacket is wrapped tightly around your waist, with your shoulders lifted so high they practically reach up to your ears. your dress might be short but your boots reach up to your knees and still you’re freezing cold. your heart raps against your chest like you’re about to give a presentation in front of a crowd of people. despite the chill that swipes down your spine, you’re now paranoid a sweat patch has leaked through your cardigan with nerves.
OBSESSED!
— you’re obsessed with bakugou’s ex.
an: felt like writing this. thanks olivia rodrigo. i’ve done bakugou’s version somewhere lol mostly dialogue. angst, fluffy. relationship, pro hero au!
the first time it’s allowed. you’re allowed to go through your boyfriend’s, ex-girlfriend’s instagram. especially when it’s served to you in a people you might know platter.
technically, they were never boyfriend-girlfriend, they just sorta dated and definitely had regular sex. the thought sets your body on fire. has your eyes glued to her professional pro-hero profile picture that has her eyes glowing like those girls on shoujo animes and the fact you share five mutual followers. a couple of your boyfriend’s pro hero best friends. luckily, your boyfriend isn’t on that list.
you grip your phone so tight, sweat forms between your fingers. tapping to expand her profile picture to study the image. pretty, no fuck that, she’s stunningly gorgeous and you’ve always been confident but you’re starting to question, perhaps it’s been a facade. how can you be confident and feel so distraught over his ex-girlfriend.
and you do have to note, she looks nothing like you.
long purple hair, sharp ears that arch to a point at the top, doe like eyes and skin complexion which doesn’t match yours. your heart burns like you have proof of bakugou katsuki, the love of your life, cheating right in front of you.
she’s got millions of followers like the majority of pros. a mixture of professional photoshoots, getty images at galas, adverts she’s in, clips of her saving lives on the news. then her at home with a selfie of her lying on her bed, a night out in a bar across the world with her friends and her with her fucking cat. perfectly posed, perfect angle of her nose, perfect life that matches your boyfriend’s.
you’re not insecure. nobody you know would ever describe you like that. bicep pulsing, urging you to throw your phone across the room when a presence appears behind you as you lounge on the sofa.
“why’re you lookin’ at her instagram?”
tonight i bring u dad bkg who just wants to fuck his wife . tomorrow? who knows. (probably more bkg it's all i do)
it’s hungry, the way he’s got you— katsuki’s mouth all over you, teeth on your shoulder, breath hot against your throat, hands everywhere, greedy and starved. the sun isn’t even up but you can feel it— his need, your own. the room is cool, but every inch of you he touches burns.
you’re spread out beneath him, legs bracketed around his hips, one hand fisted in his wild morning hair. katsuki’s biting off his own sounds, gritting his teeth to keep quiet, rutting slow and desperate. you keep arching into him, biting your lip so hard you might bruise.
“god, baby, fuck.” he whispers, so close you can feel his voice more than hear it, his hips rocking against you, his fingers tangled with yours, your other hand clamped over your mouth so you don’t cry out for the whole house to hear.
he’s shaking, sweating, muttering filth into your ear— and you’re both about to come, strung out and so, so close. you can feel him tense, that ragged, trembling edge where he’s about to lose it, and he can feel you right there with him.
and then—
that tiny voice, floating from down the hall:
“… mama?”
you both freeze— katsuki’s eyes blown wide, panic and pure devastation in his face.
“he’ll go back to sleep,” he gasps, rutting his hips once more, desperate, “just a sec, babe, please, i’m so fucking close—”
but then the door handle rattles.
a second soft, and more insistent, “mama?” follows.
the two of you jump— a full-body, heart-stopping jolt. heads bonk together in your mad scramble for decency, you yelping and clutching your forehead, katsuki cursing under his breath, caught mid-thrust and now halfway off the bed.
he’s quick, but not quick enough to avoid smacking his forehead into yours a second time as you both try to untangle. he curses again, but then he softens instantly, cradling your face and kissing your forehead (right where it hurts) with a breathless, sheepish, “sorry, babe, shit— my skull’s a weapon.”
you snort, muffling laughter into your pillow, and hiss at the ache, eyes watering as you hear your little boy outside the door.
rock-paper-scissors is out the window; katsuki’s already grabbing for pyjama pants, grumbling the whole way, but his eyes are softer than you’ve ever seen. “don’t think this gets you off the hook. you owe me. i’m collecting during nap time.”
you stick your tongue out, shameless, watching his back as he pads to the door.
he opens it a crack, hair wild, eyes tired but warm. “what’s up, bud? s’early y’know? me ‘nd mama were sleepin’.”
kichiro blinks up at him, fox plush squished against his chest. “wanna make pancakes, papa. but i want mama.”
katsuki sighs, defeated cause he wanted mama too, and just shakes his head, reaching down to ruffle kichiro’s hair— his hair, copied and plastered onto his sons little head. “yeah, alright. mama's sleepin', gotta let her or she'll get cranky 'rember? gimme a sec, buddy.” the kid nods, shuffles off toward the kitchen, and katsuki throws one last look over his shoulder— full of promise, of bratty pettiness, but mostly affection. “nap time” he mouths, pointing at you with a mock glare.
you grin into the pillow, heart pounding, equal parts frustrated and full. because, really— this is everything you wanted. messy, chaotic, too much love to fit in one bed.
(and nap time is coming. god help you.)
damn, its been a while since the last kacchan