miss dolly ♥︎

girlblog 𝜗𝜚

[dollcest]

dollcest’s digital diary ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

about me ୨୧ miu 19 she her

satoru’s sweetheart ♡ im here to just yap and reblog stuff. my blog is mainly revolves around my interests, my life, a lot of fanfiction reading etc etc.

im not that active but i love interacting with mutuals !! ageless blogs and minors dni <3

[cinna-creme]

a/n: fuck it some hc’s for snow leopard!shoto x bunny!reader

⋆˙⟡ expressive ears that give away his mood, tail is the same way and he blushes and gets embarrassed about it

⋆˙⟡ he’ll chew on his tail absentmindedly and you’ll pull it out of his mouth and he ends up wrapping it around you, caressing you with the soft fur

⋆˙⟡ he’s so so protective of you like kinda just always surrounding you and always has a hand on you, he tries not to be too overbearing but you’re just his sweet little bunny and he wants to take care of you

⋆˙⟡ lovessss licking/cleaning the soft fur of your lop ears, likes the way it makes you squirm and cling onto him, loves even more when scratch behind his ears

⋆˙⟡ gets embarrassed about his ruts but you always take it so good, letting him have your pretty cunt as long as he needs, however he needs

⋆˙⟡ loves when you go into your heats cus you wake him up in the middle of the night with your ears pressed flat to your head and you’ll be straddling his face whining at him to eat you

⋆˙⟡ shoto loves missionary but he loves doggy cus he gets to watch your little tail go crazy as he makes you feel good and he can mouth and take your ears between his teeth groaning when you clamp down around him

⋆˙⟡ he loves that your stamina rivals his and gets super blushy at how horny you are all the time but just lets you hump against him as much as you need

⋆˙⟡ snow leopard!shoto loves his bunny

[getstarried]

🎐🗓️🎏First meeting

(Inspired by “Something (just like this)” by OfMermaids on AO3,,, AAAA SUCH A GOOD FIC,,, it has overtaken my whole life on the times I’ve read it 😭💖I could write a whole love letter to the fic cause it’s just so beautifully written, and it feels like every paragraph has a purpose, sometimes the purpose being trying to show you the little things 🥺💖 and the plot omg the plot,,,, SOOOO well thought out!! I deffo recommend it if u like self insert 🥺

[ttakdoll]

꩜ – SATORU GOJO really likes the way reader says his name .ᐟ

(18+) :: content – gojo x fem!reader, smut, fingering, cunnilingus, voice kink

satoru really likes the way you say his name.

other people never get it right, in his opinion. there’s always a vowel that’s too drawn out, or a consonant that’s pronounced too sharply. he only ever smiles and nods when people say his name like that — it’s fine, sure. but it’s not right.

it’s become something very particular for him.

it’s not sah-toe-roo.

he’s also heard sahh-to-roo.

and some people will extend those vowels past their welcome.

but you? it glides off your tongue like honey.

sa-to-ru.

he likes the way it gets all sharp on your lips when you’re mad at him. satoru would never admit it to you, but sometimes he’ll piss you off on purpose whenever he’s in the mood to hear how you sharpen the consonants like knives when you're telling him off.

“what?” the sorcerer sits back in your office chair, the faintest traces of a completely intentional grin on his face.

he’d come in early for once in his life for this exact purpose; satoru knew you always came in devastatingly punctual, so he’d make sure to greet you the best way he knew how to make your morning: by sitting in your office and kicking his feet up on your paperwork.

you loved things clean. it’s cute. he wants you fucking messy, though!

and you’re seething so adorably, with your face all scrunched up and your shiny eyes narrowed. “does this look like your office, gojo?”

nope. not what he wants to hear.

satoru sits up abruptly, making a show out of glancing around the room, before letting out an exhale of a laugh. “you know, all the offices look suspiciously similar. might wanna bring it up with the higher-ups.”

“get out.”

“did you get enough sleep last night?” he tilts his head, feigning concern. “you’re being awfully rude about this.”

the way you narrow your eyes makes satoru wish he could see them glitter with crystallized tears, with his weight on top of you as he slides his tongue between your thighs—

you suck in a breath past pretty lips. “i’m not in the mood. yaga has me on the clock. please just give me this, gojo.”

please, you say, and it makes him smile smugly. satoru loves hearing it (although he’d love hearing it beneath the dark of a particularly low-lit bedroom), but he needs more. needs your voice to wrap around his name like you own it.

“plead nicer. unfortunately for you, i’m in the mood.”

“fuck, no.”

he leans further back into your chair. “didn’t hear you. sorry?”

“satoru.”

there it is. sa-to-ru; just the way he likes.

on other days, even when you’re rendered all sheepish and embarrassed at one of his jokes, satoru just can’t get enough of the way you say his name.

this time, your tone dulls around the edges, always muttered under your breath in front of important people when he’s threatened to embarrass you with something he’s said — it’s soft and small and stern all at the same time, dancing through the air like warm fucking breeze in the winter. he just wishes you wouldn’t be so quiet about it; if the sorcerer had a choice, he’d have your voice on repeat.

he already does, in a way.

it’s why satoru’s taken to teasing you specifically whenever you have faculty meetings in front of the higher-ups, or whenever you’re particularly engrossed in a lesson with your students, just to see you when you’re caught off your game and a tiny bit upset.

satoru loves you when you’re pouting, loves when your lips press flat into a thin line or when the inside of your cheek catches between your teeth, like you’ve got a retort on the tip of your sweet tongue but won’t let it slip for your own sake. so fucking considerate all the time.

you’re unbelievably gorgeous when you’re so composed.

and you let that sweet little breath of his name slip from your mouth when he’d push you a little too far during your class with your first years on reverse cursed technique. your eyes fixate on the ground, lips downturned, as satoru’d just gotten all of your students to laugh at a little jab towards your explaining methods.

“satoru.” you chastised in a small mumble, “let’s talk after my class, please.”

sa-to-ru.

god, that little whisper will be in his dreams tonight.

he’ll hear it over and over again and wish you’d mumbled it right against his earlobe, because no one else ever deserved to hear your voice like that.

“that’s awfully secretive, sensei. what’s so important that our beloved students can’t listen in on it, hm?” he knows what you’re getting at, of course.

but truthfully, he just wants to see your face contort with that fiery little expression, the same one he wanted to mouth at every inch of until nothing was left but pure bliss.

and satoru’s not shy about the way his heartbeat picks up when you nudge yourself a tiny bit closer, just to make sure he’s the only one who can hear what you say next. just so that your voice is only for him.

as it fucking should be.

the sorcerer’s hand just about brushes your hip, and save him if it isn’t taking everything in him to make sure he doesn’t grab you and pull you into his side like he has the right to do so.

“i don’t want my beloved students to hear me threaten to kill their sensei right here,” oh. satoru’s mind goes deliciously numb.

he grins, the edge of his mouth upturning slowly. “i’d love to see you try.”

you frown a tiny bit more.

“what exactly do you get out of pissing me off all the time?”

well.

⭑.ᐟ

satoru knows well enough that he adores your voice when it’s wrapped around his name.

but he’s decided that he loves it best when it’s completely breaking, paired with the gorgeously suffocating feeling of the skin of your thighs pressed into his fingertips and wrapped around his lips.

he loves when his name is exhaled, high-pitched and whiny like sugar, while his tongue paints a stripe across the wetness coating your lips, swirling circles around your pretty clit.

maybe he liked it the most because it’s how he’s always wanted to hear you say his name — it’s just that you’d always been too fucking stubborn, so insistent on hating him that you’d never stop to think how good you’d taste coating his mouth with your slick.

“sa-ah-toru,” you keen as satoru’s tongue dips past the edge of your soaked hole, curling inwards deliciously, moving slow like he’s savoring every fucking drop.

god, he’s hungry — but he’ll die if he goes too quick and can’t taste you ever again.

and if he grips the back of your thighs just a little bit harder when you sing his name like that? he simply can’t help it. he waited too long for this.

sa-to-ru.

you taste just as sweet as you sound.

you’d burst into his office this morning, bemoaning the fact that satoru hadn’t showed up to the previous briefing with principal yaga, of which ended with yaga blaming it on you. you’re bursting with rage, all up in his face, and it’s all a blur from there until your panties are hooked over your ankle, he’s getting on his knees in front of your office chair, wrapping your thighs over his shoulders, and lapping at your pretty cunt.

he hasn't gasped for air; he’s been too enveloped in your scent to care about breathing. he’ll devour you until no one else can. until all that pretty voice of yours knows how to sound out is sa-to-ru.

satoru narrows his tongue, bullying the muscle deep and slow, down to where you couldn’t have thought possible to reach. his eyes are hazy, half-lidded as you tug at his winter locks, shoving him further into your weeping pussy.

“mmph— fuck,” you pant out, eyes screwed shut as he thrusts his tongue in and out of you at a torturous pace. “fuck— gojo, ‘re going too slow—”

“hmm?” he hums into your clit, sending shockwaves straight up from your core. the sorcerer’s gaze meets yours from under the glimpse of your tits beneath your unbuttoned polo.

he loves you composed, he really does — but you look perfect when you’re all messy, just for him.

his lips glisten with your wetness as he grins. “i'll go faster if you say my name properly, beautiful.”

“h—huh?” your words trail off into a candied whine as he pads his finger just against your entrance, smearing the wetness that covers your folds and popping it into his mouth.

you’re so sweet. fuck, why are you so sweet?

“say my name.” he repeats, his voice cheerful yet rough, the tiniest bit of grit around the edge. “remind me how much you love me, gorgeous.”

your eyes still manage to narrow, even as they glitter with needy frustration. “fuck you— mmh!”

satoru simply frowns against the inside of your thigh as he abruptly bullies the first inch of his finger past your entrance, hissing at how tightly your walls were clamping down on him. his mind goes blurry, swirling with thoughts of how delectable you’d look with your thighs around his hips, bullied open and clamping like a vice down on his cock—

he pulls his finger out with a shudder, cooing at the little pout that forms on your lips. “poor baby. if you can’t handle it, you know, we can stop here. if you want.”

“w— what?” you breathe out, eyes wide and glossy like the thought was insulting. “no, please — please, need you, satoru…”

sa-to-ru.

and you’ve drawn out that last syllable like you want him dead.

“again, sorry?”

“satoru!” you squeal impatiently, and he obliged, simply because he’d never say no to you when you sound like that.

the white-haired man groans, biting down on the inside of your thigh and relishing in the way it makes you whine, all high-pitched and finally sweet on him.

his fingers thrust roughly into your aching pussy, stretching you out and moulding you to shape around his skin. you’re dripping down his palm, and satoru’s mesmerized by the sheen of slick that coats his hand as he pounds his fingers in and out of you steadily.

“shit— so pretty here for me, huh?” satoru whispers reverently, as if speaking directly to your pussy and not to you. “just as sweet as that mouth of yours. just as tight too.”

your hands are making a home for themselves in his hair, hips chasing his thick fingers, grinding yourself further into them like he wasn’t deep enough already. your perfect fucking voice isn’t helping the sorcerer’s case either — he swears he loses every semblance of control he has, bit by bit, at each breath of his name leaving your lips, garbled and slurred and destroyed.

“s’toru, satoru,” your mouth drops open, eyes screwing shut as he curls his fingers right into that spongy spot, office chair creaking as your body slumps back into it. “it’s so— fuck, ‘ts so—”

he laughs breathlessly. “yes, gorgeous?”

“it’s so— oh!”

satoru cherishes everything you have to say, he swears he does.

but he also cherishes the way your lips look, all glossed with drool pooling at the corners, when he leans forward and circles his tongue over your clit in mean little motions, lapping at the sensitive skin in tandem with the rhythm of his fingers. you’re a whining, squirming mess — struggling to stay upright, thoroughly desecrated on the office chair you’d chewed him out just weeks ago for stealing.

satoru hisses as your fingertips tug at his locks, so fucking drunk on the taste of your soaked cunt amidst the lewd sound of his fingers slapping against your sex.

“listen to that,” he rasps out, pausing to let the squelch of your pussy speak for itself before laughing dazedly against your clit. “she’s screaming my name too, isn’t she? so fuckin’ good for me, aren’t you?”

your bleary gaze peeks down at him, eyes questioning amidst the pleasure. “s—satoru, you asshole, stop talking to my— mmh!”

before you can protest, his mouth is diving back in. soft lips latch around your clit, and satoru’s painfully hard at the sound of your voice cracking around the syllables of his name, your throat thick with pleasure at the overstimulation. he doesn’t let up; the white-haired man sucks harder at the sensitive bud, all while scissoring his fingers deep inside of you as if mapping you out.

for when his dick goes inside you, of course.

“it’s t—too much,” you complain in a mewl, eyes blurry with forming tears, “satoru, please, please, ‘m so—”

“fuck, take it, gorgeous,” satoru gasps out against your pussy, lips drenched in your taste. “keep talking to me — shit, you’re tight — let it all out for me, okay?”

satoru’s mind had blanked out a long time ago. between the way your lips form his name in one strung out moan, and the way you taste sweeter than any candy he could’ve ever asked for, he’s starting to wonder if he’d died and gone to heaven.

your voice tangles with the filthy squelches that resound through the cramped space of your office, and he swears nothing could ever be better than this.

except for the way you sound saying his name while you cum.

“i’m— i’m—” you gasp, and satoru takes that as a sign to clamp his lips around your clit and suck, curling his fingers up against your g-spot until — “satoru!”

he’s never heard anything so perfect before. his gaze flicks upwards as you orgasm, watching the way your face scrunches up as your cunt tightens unbearably around every inch of his fingers. satoru’s transfixed by your stupid voice, something out of a porno curated by an angel, and if he’s hoping he’s ruined you with his fingers alone, you’ve ruined him with just the sound of your voice breaking.

your breaths are heavy as you come down from the high; soft and warm, sound waves radiating off of you like sunlight. satoru presses a soft kiss to your inner thigh, and you finally peer down at him.

“still mad at me?” the sorcerer grins.

your eyes narrow as soon as you’re back to life. “yes. yaga chewed me out for something that wasn’t even my fault, satoru.”

sa-to-ru. the white-haired man pauses against your inner thigh, raising an eyebrow up at you with something hungry in his eyes. because as soon as you say his name, he decides he’s not fucking done with you yet.

“i’m sorry, gorgeous,” satoru mumbles, giving you a faux-apologetic glance before mischievously pressing a kiss to your clit, watching how your eyes widen. “i guess I’ll just keep going until you forgive me.”

“w—wait!”

satoru gojo really likes the way you say his name.

and he’ll keep making you say it until you know it too.

@ ttakdoll, 2026

first time finishing smut pls be kind to me :(

[ccarl-deactivated20171114]

[fireflyschiikawa]

husband!sukuna : beach episode

the sun pours over your body as you walk along empty handed with sukuna holding all the bags and beach equipment. baby!yuji patters along on the mildly hot sand, running on levels of adrenaline only a six year old could muster.

the beach is filled with families similar to yours, children playing in the water, people tanning in the deliciously hot sun and rounds of volleyball being tossed around by large friend groups.

sukuna places down your lounging chairs with an attached shaded umbrella, and plops down with all the bags containing various miscellaneous things.

yuji sticks his tongue out slightly, eyes lighting up with mischief and tries to make a beeline for the water before you grab him by the collar.

“no one gets out there without sunscreen” you wave a finger at him, instructing him to settle down.

yuji pouts impatiently swinging his legs while you get out the bottle of kids sunscreen and rub it on every bit of his exposed skin.

your son wrinkles his nose when you reach for his face applying the lotion in soft rhythmic motions. you proceed to pinch his cheeks and give him a little kiss there while yuji giggles.

sukuna watches you fuss over the brat with mild amusement. his eyes squint under the sun, and drop to admire what you’ve got on.

a frilly little thing exposing your beautiful curves.

sukuna scans the area noting any men looking towards your general direction and stares them down with a cutting glare only he could manage. a look that screamed ‘look away before i come dislocate that head myself’ for good measure.

while yuji runs off to play in the sand, you turn to him with the sunscreen bottle in hand and a knowing smile.

“your turn”

sukuna scoffs from where he’s sprawled back in the beach chair, one arm lazily hanging off the side.

“i don’t burn”

“yes you do”

“i literally don’t”

“your nose got pink last time”

his eyes narrow immediately, “it did not.”

“you then complained that it itched and brooded about it the whole time”

“i don’t brood”

you hum ignoring his offense entirely and pat your thighs.

“c’mere”

he stares at you for a long second before clicking his tongue and leaning forward anyway because despite all his dramatics, sukuna has never once denied you when you used that tone on him.

you snort as sukuna settles in front of you. his massive frame blocks the sun completely and he smells like saltwater and heat already despite barely having stepped into the ocean.

you squeeze sunscreen into your palms and rub it across his shoulders.

his muscles flex beneath your hands while you smooth lotion over the dark markings curling along his skin, careful and thorough despite the way he eyes you.

you drag your fingers over his neck and jaw, rubbing sunscreen into the bridge of his nose while he looks deeply inconvenienced by affection.

“look down”

“this is humiliating.”

“look down, so i can get the back of your neck.”

he grumbles under his breath but tilts his chin downward anyway. his previously bored, half lidded eyes, dilate at the sight of your cleavage, right. in. his. face.

how blissful.

yuji bursts into giggles. you had spiked up sukuna’s hair to stand up in a funky way.

“you look funny papa”

sukuna grimaces.

“want me to throw you into the ocean?”

“yeah!”

“…”

you laugh so hard you nearly smear sunscreen into sukuna’s eye.

you take turns, with sukuna now applying sunscreen onto your back.

eventually yuji tears off toward the shoreline with a plastic bucket in hand, sandals abandoned somewhere behind him.

you lean back into your chair with a satisfied sigh while sukuna sits beside you, one arm draped lazily behind your head.

for a while the two of you simply watch.

yuji jumps over tiny waves, yelling triumphantly every single time he successfully crosses one.

he crouches to collect shells with complete seriousness only to abandon them three seconds later because another wave has appeared.

his little laugh carries over the water. your chest feels warm.

“he looks like you when he gets excited,” you murmur, nuzzling against the base of sukuna’s neck.

“poor kid”

you elbow him lightly, “it is cute sukuna, you are cute”

before sukuna can mull over your words, yuji suddenly turns around spotting the two of you immediately.

“papa!! come here!!”

sukuna pretends not to hear,

“papa!!”

you mouth a slight ‘go’ as your husband sighs dramatically before obliging as per usual.

the water reaches just beneath his knees when yuji grabs his hand excitedly and starts dragging him around with all the strength a six year old could possess.

you pad in after them enjoying the waves and the feel of soft sand beneath your bare feet.

you smile to yourself. it is almost absurd seeing sukuna getting ordered around by a child carrying a neon orange shovel.

yuji points toward a lopsided sandcastle near the shore, “help me make it BIGGER” he sticks his arms out to act out how big he wanted it to be.

sitting back down on your chair you try not to look too amused as sukuna crouches down into the sand.

his large hands awkwardly shape wet sand while yuji gives deeply unnecessary instructions beside him.

“more tower”

sukuna looks over at you, pleading for an escape. you wave him off.

“it’s a sandcastle not a fortress” he mutters back.

“more tower” yuji runs about, sometimes gathering sand and sometimes water. most of the time being largely unhelpful.

sukuna clicks his tongue and adds another tower.

hours later the sky begins softening into gold.

yuji’s exhausted enough now to become clingy, dragging his feet through the sand while holding onto sukuna’s hand.

“i need to wash my feet” you brush sand off your legs with a tired groan.

before you can even move, sukuna bends down and scoops you into his arms effortlessly.

you yelp, “kuna—”

he pats you lower thigh,“stop squirming”

people nearby glance over briefly before immediately looking away once sukuna glares in their direction.

you hide your snicker against his shoulder while he carries you toward the rinse station near the boardwalk.

the water runs cool over your feet as he holds you securely against his chest, an arm around your waist like you weigh nothing at all.

yuji stands beside him sleepily rubbing his eyes.

once your feet are clean, sukuna sets you carefully onto the bench.

then without a word, he crouches down.

you blink.

“..what’re you doing?”

he grabs your sandals from beside the bench.

“your feet’ll get dirty again.”

years of loving him and your heart still stutters stupidly.

sukuna slides the sandals onto your feet one by one with mild annoyance etched across his face, but you know better. his love language when it came to you, was acts of service.

meanwhile yuji watches with narrowed eyes, “papa..?”

“what.”

“that’s sooo romantic” he smiles ear to ear.

sukuna immediately flicks water at his forehead.

yuji screeches dramatically while you laugh loud enough that people turn to look again.

“where did he even learn that?” sukuna asks, a mild smile overtaking his usual harsh features.

you shrug, in a dream-like trance, the domesticity of this moment making your heart soar.

and for once, sukuna doesn’t care at all.

firefly; you guys wanted longer fics so hehe i hope this was good

more like this

[levitonin]

This was supposed to be quick coloring but I got carried away and rendered it

[localapparently]

june has arrived

[tteokdoroki]

🛞 PEONIES, PANTIES & WEDDING PLANS  ✩  katsuki bakugou .ᐟ

🏁 pit stop ! 𖦹 whoever said you couldn't do two things at once, lied. in a world in which you're engaged to dynamight, you have to be good at multi-tasking! so, yeah, it is absolutley 1000% possible to plan your wedding whilst your fiance eats you out. he's just greedy like that. (4.5K)

🏁 safety car ! ⋆  not safe for work ⋆ smut ⋆ eighteen plus only. pro hero au, canon compliant, established relationships, marriage mentions, mentions of divorce, domestic bliss, soft mid-morning sex, oral sex (f!recieving), katsuki bakugou 25 - pro eater, unprotected sex, simp katsuki... that's it really. pro hero bakugou, pro hero & fem reader.

🏁  team radio ! ⋆ everyone say thank u @bfbkg... was told to post so here it is... my humble offering.. domestic horny bliss w kacchan my kacchan mmm!! click for more. 

── © tteokdoroki ╱ 2026.

most say that many little girls dream of getting married someday. 

they’ll have a ring picked out from the day they first learn all the different cuts and stones of jewellery. a wedding dress in the back of their mind — either  mermaid or ballgown style that they’ve seen a million times on ‘say yes to the dress’. a venue like a fairytale selected and a colour scheme that changes every time their favourite colour does. 

you’ve never really thought about any of that. not really. a wedding sure, who wants to die alone — but there wasn’t ever much detail behind it. a fleeting thought, nothing but a wistful wish that only mattered in the long run. no time to dwell, not when you worry more about making it through school, college and finding a job to secure your future  than making a fuss over a big day that might not even happen. not to mention, the concept of marriage itself, it’s frightening — a life long commitment that means giving up half of everything that’s yours unless you’re smart. you’d seen what it did to your parents, falling apart until your family was in pieces laid over eggshells.

you were scared of marriage, weddings, the big fuss. you were almost certain that you didn’t want it.

but then along comes katsuki bakugou. 

crash landing into your life and blowing every preconceived notion you’d had to pieces. the way he loves you was strong, instant, and he’d had just as many walls built up as you. each one, he carefully took down without force or overstepping, by sharing the most vulnerable parts of his own heart — a trade off, a piece of himself for a piece of you. katsuki’s love wasn’t transactional, it was a partnership built on trust and communication and everything he wished he’d known as a kid. what you had together, grew from fleeting looks across agency halls to shared lunches whenever he had a spare moment. it went from slithers of conversation at your desks to years worth of unspoken words tucked into a quiet dining booth at a restaurant you’d mentioned wanting to try once.

katsuki’s effort was constant, adaptive — like he wanted to prove himself worthy of being by your side and change the narrative. the one that got you caught up in your head, that you weren’t meant to be loved in the ways seen on TV or between your peers. he did everything he could to show you that you deserved his heart and that he’d earned the right to yours. every day, the blonde strived to be a better hero and even better person, and for you —  he wanted to be someone you could lean on; feel safe with and never like you are standing in the middle of a glass house with a stone.

so it was katsuki who changed your mind, slipped an engagement ring with the prettiest rock and your birthstones either side onto your finger and kissed the back of your hand when he did. it was katsuki who proposed somewhere quiet, somewhere so you at a time where he felt you were both ready. and katsuki, who cried a little bit when you said that you’d want to be his forever. as long as he kept his promise.

now you’re six months into fiancee life, happily engaged and planning a wedding — what’s supposed to be a dream wedding, between timezones and hero patrols and missions where you barely get to speak. 

the two of you make it work, using any time left to breathe to make sure this wedding is planned to perfection. like today, where the sun is high in the afternoon and you’ve barely made it out of bed for… reasons…

“katsuki,” you muse, lips twisted into a concentrated frown and eyes squinting at the tablet in your lap.  tilting your head, you scrutinise the bouquets sent over by your personal planner, torn between the arrangements and the colours — you bite back a sigh in response and ignore the twitch in your thighs to tap your tablet’s pen against your fiancé’s head.

tufts of soft and sunny blonde emerge from beneath the duvet accompanied by quiet grumbles of protest and curses. katsuki licks his lips, slow and intentional, brows furrowed. 

“what?”

you flick his forehead with the pen again and playfully scold the pro hero. “excuse me? who do you think you’re—!?” the words die in your throat, suffocating beneath a sharp intake of breath. hands that are rough and deliciously calloused, move beneath the sheets and dance between your thighs — they curl past your entrance, already soaked covered in a lewd layer of spit, and press directly against the spot he knows will have your spine arching from the bed. 

katsuki watches your body melt into the sheets, limp and loose as he starts to languidly pump his digits within your silken walls, dragging his fingertips along all the little epicentres of pleasure dotted along them. a cruel smirk sketches its way onto his handsome, sleepy face — all knowing, all powerful. an expression that has your knees knocking whilst his free hand fights to keep them open. 

he’d woken you up like this, all clingy and sweet since he’d been granted a day off from the restraints of hero duties. you’d wanted to spend it getting a few outstanding items from your wedding sorted, make some choices together but unfortunately ( or fortunately ) for you, your fiancé had other plans. rising before you did, that god of a man had sunk between your thighs and pressed his stomach to the bed before you could even catch a glimpse of the morning sun — his tongue rolling its claim over your aching clit, waking you up with a carefully calculated orgasm. just enough to keep you pliant. 

to keep you in bed. 

to keep you from wedding planning.

to which he had failed. who said you couldn’t do two things at once? 

“you were saying?” katsuki rasps lowly, a hint of smugness decorating cadence. he’s distracting. you’re distracted, sure, brain lagging behind your body as it trembles and your hips buck into the friction of katsuki’s palm grinding against your sopping mound — but you’re also determined. even the blonde’s head dips beneath the sheets once again, slinking lower and pressing sloppy and open mouthed kisses against the inside of your thighs, tonguing the crease where it meets your quivering sex. 

“p-pick one, asshole,” whilst stuttering your way through airy moans, you somehow manage to flip your tablet, fighting to keep hold of the slippery screen when your fiancés teeth come into play — pinching your throbbing clit between rows of sharpened pearly whites. bakugou only chuckles from beneath his sinful fortitude of blankets, still thrusting his fingers diligently past the heat of your fluttering hole. 

his pace is lazy, just enough to keep you seated on the edge and draw this out — pressing further into you until your thighs part a little more and your eyes start to roll back into the depths of your skull. “pick what, hah?” he’s taunting you, eyes half lidded and hazed, watching your hips buck upwards in a greedy plea for more. 

no matter how much you try to deny katsuki, keep focused on the task at hand, he’ll always find a way to make you break — he’s spent years learning your body, how to put you back together and make you see stars. he’ll continue doing so for the rest of his god damned life. 

“c’mon, talk to me, baby.” bakugou lowers his voice again, turning to a nasty and dirty growl laced with condescending lilt you’ve heard a million and one times before yet still don’t understand how he’s capable of it. the sound makes your body jerk towards his face, stubbled and scarred cheeks glistening with gold, shining from your juices as they leak into the sheets. then you gush, because you love the way he smiles up at you when he’s like this — delirious as if your pussy makes him crazy with his cheeks burning at the way your hole spasms around two of his thick digits. 

you glare down at the man as you whip the blankets from over his head with a free hand, in order to see him better — set your sights on more than just a slither of him through rustling fabric. “shut up, katsuki,” you bite back, letting out a strained sigh as you fumble around the bed for your tablet — desperate to set the morning scene back on course. if there’s one thing your man hates more than anything, it’s you holding back when you’re with him like this. call it pride or stubbornness, those feelings push him to take more from you 

in response, the pro hero nips at your swollen folds harshly, pulling back just a touch only to let a globule of his spit ooze between his smirking lips and land directly on your tortured cunt. “that’s not what you wanted to say, c’mon, baby. speak up.” he whispers against your slick heat, dripping like honey from his lips glossed with sex. his fingers are able to slide deeper now, aided by the extra lube he’s added to the mix — a throaty moan stretches thin between the two of you as he breaches your walls with their thickness and katsuki watches as you ripple around him in adjustment.

fuck, you’re so cute like this. his every dream come true and he can’t wait to make you his forever. especially when he gets to have this hot cunt every day, sucking him in while you wriggle and squirm within his strong hold — whining out like you can’t help it.

using his strength, he lifts your thighs over his broad-set shoulders — giving you the perfect view of the muscles in his back purling and contracting, his honey manuka skin littered with years of battle and love making. you shake your head, swallow the drool that hangs like rope from the roof of your mouth and tongue in an attempt to find your words. 

“i need you to… oh my god. i need you to pick which floral arrangement you like best before… we move onto table decor…” any fight you have begins to die right then and there, falling away into pretty little moans and bucks of your hips into the palm of katsuki’s hand. “f-for the… kats… for the reception.” 

bakugou spits onto your mound again then greedily flattens his tongue against the entire length of your silken slit — catching all of the juices you leak and the frothy mix before it can slide down to your ass. “whatever one you fuckin’ like best. shit, you taste like heaven, baby, ” ignoring your wishes to satisfy his own hunger, he crudely uses the pink muscle to push what you spew and gush back over the throbbing little pleasure button peeking out from between your folds. 

that is, until you push your hands through the soft roots of his hair — the rock from your engagement heavy on your finger as it presses into the blonde’s forehead. you tug, hard. mostly out of pleasure but also to snag your fiancé’s attention. “ow!” bakugou whimpers, because he likes when you rough him up a little —  make him feel a little pain to show how good he’s making you feel. “you gonna let me eat you out or what? keep riding my fingers like your life depends on it.” 

“you said you’d help!” the words feel tacky in your mouth and echo loudly into the early afternoon ambience. katsuki loves when you’re vocal underneath him and vice versa — hearing him whine and sigh into your cunt as he switches from finger fucking you to tongue fucking you. so it’s a little difficult right now, to communicate and plan your wedding, when you’re creaming around the thick base of your fiancé’s tongue whilst it begins to twist against gushing walls. “if i let you eat me out.” 

while your thighs dangle over the backs of his shoulders, bakugou secures you to the bed with his palm flat against your soft heaving tummy. like a man starved, he ravishes you as though you’re his last meal — filling you up with his filthy tongue like he would his cock, both warm and slippery against the mapped out pleasure spots on your ribbed walls. he can’t help but groan and moan loudly between animalistic laps at your throbbing sex, sucking down every drop you offer him. 

there isn’t an inch of you that he leaves unattended, bobbing his head against your cunt in a beastly rhythm and matching the way you involuntarily canter down onto his face. it’s not like he minds the force, too pussy drunk and obsessed with you to really care. “well, what do you want me to say with my mouth fuckin’ full, hah?” bakugou’s dirty sigh is muffled, little syllables breaking up his speech between acid flicks of his tongue… but his mouth stays married to your aching mound. so eager to fuck you up and touch you and have you fall to pieces between his teeth and his tongue. “just wanna… mhm… fuckin’ taste you, baby, please. so fuckin’ good to me.”

it’s a sick little trick, the one that he pulls on you. begging for your cum as if you aren’t the one at katsuki bakugou’s rampant mercy. “f-fuck you!” you squeak, annoyed and high on bliss all at once. your hips rut into his face so hard that his nose nudges your clit over and over again, earning more high pitched mewls from you. he pulls you up by the ass with a bruising grip — fingertips sure to leave their mark later whilst hiking your thighs further over his scarred shoulders to fuck you deeper.

“already on it, brat,” bakugou sings gruffly and underneath his breath, like he knows you’re about to shatter into small, fragile pieces. he can tell by the wild look in your eye and the way your knuckles start to pale from how hard you grip your tablet, that the tension sparking its way down your spine and building in your pelvis is about to snap. katsuki then reaches down for another tantalising stroke of his tongue against your addictive, syrupy pussy — only to be stopped by an extremely harsh tank of his golden locks and a wavering glare from you.  

“ow! what the fuck?”

you grip him by the roots of his hair, yanking his head up so that you have his full attention. there’s a reason dynamight won sexiest pro hero a couple of years in a row — and it’s times like this you count yourself lucky that you’re the one who nabbed him up. katsuki’s blood red eyes flood with need, like a person who’s desperate to feed after decades without a proper meal. his golden skin, tanned with memories carved into him through scars, shines with sweat where his face is wet with your essence — highlighting the sun-burn like blush that spreads to the tip of his ears and right down towards his back. 

the man’s mouth hangs open, panting with desire which burns brightly in his bare chest — hot air coasting over the seams of his lips. he looks like he might die if you don't let him back on you and you’re not sure how long you can fend him off ( or resist ). 

bakugou is a god on legs. between your legs. you don't let him distract you further.

“d-don’t sass me.” you petulantly kick at the hero, snapping your thighs shut in an attempt to push him away. “no more pussy. not until you help me make a decision.” 

closing up shop isn’t exactly an easy choice for you either, standing on the edge of an earth shattering high and god’s sexiest man trying to claw his way back to your drenched folds like he’s never going to taste them again. you like him as desperate as he is to eat you out, but you’d also like for your fiancé to help you out a little bit. 

“don’t fuckin do that, miss you so bad,” katsuki whimpers as though he’s kicked puppy, rutting against the bed — reaching out to grasp your soft doughy hips. it’s amusing how he throws a temper tantrum, when the two of you know damn well he had the strength to flip you should he so please. but your resolve is strong (or stronger than it was when he was pushing you to the high heavens.) and you hold him back, cool cut engagement ring sitting pretty woven between sun-kissed blonde. “baby, baby please. you’re so close. just fuckin’ spread ‘em. i’ll do whatever you want.” 

you pout and spin the apple pen in your grip — attaching it back to the tablet’s magnetic case. through your lashes, you return the puppy dog eyes you know katsuki can’t ever resist. “fine i just…you know ‘m not good at this stuff,” he finally admits, notes of guilt swirling with the sex-charged air. 

tenderly, bakugou thumbs at the small of your back in circles that match the pace of his breathing. slower as he calms. easier when he looks you in the eye. “all i want… what i really want from this wedding is to just wanna see my ring on your finger and have us share the same last name. never thought i’d get lucky enough to be planning a fuckin’ wedding, let alone to someone i love so much.” bakugou finishes, bashful. 

so he’s nervous.

it makes sense to you now. why he can’t meet your eye, why he touches you instead of telling you what he wants — katsuki bakugou has always been a man of action rather than words, they’re too hard to string together and often get stuck in his throat until it really counts. his honesty makes your whole being sing, overcome with a love that tingles into lust as well.

“kats,” you sigh, brushing your hand through his bed-ridden hair. he keens into your touch as it slips down to cup his face — your engagement ring pressing into his cheek whilst catching light on the highly risen sun. katsuki nuzzles into you. “never thought i’d be this happy either. never thought i’d see the day that someone wanted me. forever. but that’s all because of you… and i don’t want this day to be just about me, i want you to feel celebrated too.” 

sitting up slightly, you lean down to your fiancé’s height where he lies flat on the mattress and bring him up to your lips for a soft chaste kiss. “it’d mean so much to me if you helped where you could, in the way that i know you want to, because i know that you care.” you say, soft and unassuming.

when all is said and done, katsuki noses the pocket of flesh at your inner thigh. as if to ground himself, accept the love seeping from your shaky frames and keep himself focused on your words instead of the way your sweet cunt smells. “god, you know i fuckin’ love you, right?” carmine eyes flutter shut as if he’s about to ascend into heaven beyond your arms.

“yeah alright, kiss-ass.” comes your airy giggle, still cupping katsuki’s face as he leans forward and places gentle, wet smooches down your tummy and back to the place that needs him the most. you’re still slick, still trembling at every touch and exhale against your cunt — clenching around nothing from the cool air in the room. 

“and you know the things i’d do for you…” diving in, bakugou’s kisses draw lower and hover over your centre — his puffy lips, glossed with your arousal and spit encapsulate your clit and suction around it, dragging you a little closer to the peak and pulling a symphony of angelic notes from you. in the form of dulcet cries. the things he’d do to you. if he had his way. he’s always been so spoiled. 

“y-you’d give me the world if you could.” 

as a reminder, before he can get too carried away — you tap the tablet to show him the options, nearly losing the damn thing in the sheets because of the way the pink muscle of katsuki’s tongue sweeps downwards, gargling on your essence already. 

keen, blood red eyes swirling with lust flick between your pussy rubbed and sucked raw to the pictures sent through by your wedding planner “nah, sweetheart,” katsuki hums, gravel at every corner of his voice — he withdraws from your swollen sex with a lewd pop, gooey strings of spit and wetness tying him to you as you heave. “the whole damned universe, don’t you forget it.” 

whilst making up his mind, a finger tacks back onto your little beating clit — pleasuring you momentarily as he signs his fate on your molten hot, viscous center. “if you want my opinion, i think we should go with…white roses and orange tulips for the flowers.” the pleasure starts to build up high and fast, katsuki’s insistent purrs shooting straight through you and sparking dopamine across your brain. the hormone crackles across the gaps in your synapses and down to you tail bone, causing your hips to jolt up into him “then the napkins can match and go with silver table decor. ‘nd your bridesmaids will wear peach. happy?” 

you boop his head with the tablet gratefully, chucking it aside to let your fiancé know he now has complete reign over you and your body. “very, baby. thank you. though i’m surprised to learn that you want the tulips over the peonies — oh !” comes your squeal of surprise before you’re devoured whole. trying to last much longer would be a battle easily lost and with the weight of wedding planning at least a little bit alleviated from your shoulders — your orgasm is practically a free for all now.  “fuck, k-katsuki!”

“knew this shit turned you on,” the blonde pro hero goads, kitten licking your core wolfishly. “spending my money, wearing my ring. having me between your legs while you figure out important shit,” his laugh seems cruel, but it’s mostly endeared. katsuki adores moments like this, the playful domesticity first thing in the morning ( well, afternoon ). “you just can’t help it, can you?” picking up the pace, lathering your pussy in spit and heated words — realises that he doesn’t know if he could live without it. without you. “just gotta be greedy ‘n cum, don’t you?” 

he’s running his mouth all crazy like and you let him because it shows just how gone he is for you, how desperate katsuki is to make you feel like heaven forever. you throw an arm over your heated face, your stomach contracting and hips burning with the need for release — every now and then, you sneak a peek at him, drinking in his flushed face and glistening skin, which elicits a flare of delight deep within. seeing him be a mess in order to make you a mess destroys you.

you swallow down the wails that feel cottony in your mouth. “mphm… kats, close. so close…” the words fight to be free — but he hears you, loves your body all the same. “wanna cum for you, baby…”

“give it to me, sweetness. i’ll make it good, let me help you a little more,” he says before pushing his tongue deeper — it’s too wriggling against your g-spot mercilessly. bakugou moans haughtily, the words melting lovingly into your cunt and you jolt at the sensation. perhaps it’s the implication, of the blonde helping you with just more than feeling all this bliss and instead your wedding, your future, standing at your side through everything to come.

not much more is needed then, that’s all it really takes. to know, that katsuki’s always got you. delirium takes over, your defence falls down along will all inhibitions — your release trickles thickly out of you before either of you have even realised just as the coil in your stomach snaps violently in two. 

everything that gushes out of you as the world splits in half, right down the middle, katsuki is there to catch you. to taste you. he drinks you in, mouth o er the length of your ravages pussy — unrelentingly prying your sweet sex open as though not to waste a single drop. white noise rings like static against your ears and your thighs tremble aggressively either side of katsuki’s head and bumps against his bright red ears — blushing at how you cry his name like a prayer. he simpers where your body clenches and tenses throughout the waves of your orgasm,  drowning happily in what your pussy gushes and offers up to him.

he feels the cool of your engagement ring as you reach to the back of his neck — through his hair, all over him and the parts of him that you love the most. 

eventually, your body falls limp — sagging against the sheets soaked with sweat and bodily fluids. katsuki climbs you quickly, shaky on the arms where he’s used his strength to hold you apart and keep you pinned to the bed. you’ve survived the aftershocks, now you’re safe under his weight and tilt your head up to kiss your fiancé’s slick cheeks happily. “god, you have such a crazy appetite,” you purr warmly, tasting yourself on the blonde. “and look, we’re sidetracked from wedding plans.” 

bakugou doesn’t bother to wipe his face, collapsing under your affectionate kisses — smug all the same because you’re slow in catching onto the thick, hardness now pressing against your ruined core. “there’s time for that later, i’ve got plans for somethin’ else,” the blonde tilts his head to nose your neck, fumbling for your hand in the sheets — toying with the silver band pressed into your skin. “we haven’t talked about what kinda dance we’re doin’ on our wedding night. we should practice.” 

“dance? practice what?” like your body knows what to do, you hike your thighs on slender hips and cross your ankles — brining your interlinked fingers up to your glossy lips for a chaste kiss.

“how i’m gonna fuck you on our wedding night, duh!” katsuki grins slow and sexy whilst his ruby eyes twinkle with mischief. you feel him push into you, hot and heavy – familiar like he belongs. and just like that, you give in to gentle thrusts that work you up and bring you bliss.

you’d fight him off, scold him a little but you love him too much and you know that you’re safe to fall with katsuki. he’s always been good at changing your mind. still, flimsy excuses bubble up in your throat as a happy, cheesy giggle whilst the bulking pro hero positions you for another round. “d-don’t forget, we need to do the seating charts!” 

“yeah, yeah, we’ll get to that later. just lemme make you cum again on my cock first.” 

“ugh, katsuki bakugou, you’re such a horn dog!”

  “what? you’re the one who wants to wedding plan! ‘m just takin’ it seriously now, mrs bakugou!”

end. - reblogs and comments are always appreciated! just liking doesn't do much so pls motivate this writer if you'd like to see more!!

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED © TTEOKDOROKI 2020-26. all fanfics & layouts belong to me. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai, or recommend elsewhere.

[tteokdoroki]

do you think that katsuki likes folding you in half in the backseat of his car, watching the way he sinks into you? even if he blushes at the thought of you reaching for him and telling him “katsuki harder please…”

✩ ꒱ heat in the back seat — ft. katsuki bakugou .ᐟ

🏁 ꒰ ✩ smut ⋆ mdni ⋆ pro hero katsuki bakugou & fem!reader. established relationship, spit kink, car sex, unprotected sex. you’re the only person who’s allowed to make spillages in the backseat of katsuki’s precious car.

i think that you’re the only person katsuki lets make a mess in his porsche let alone in the back seat. when he’s got your ankles by your ears, swaying with every plunge into your sopping mound he’s not really thinking about how your slick might ruin the leather back there or how your nails are scratching up the different surfaces. all katsuki can focus on is the way you milk him with every thrust and how your own spit bubbles up on your lips because you’re too far gone to even realise you’re drooling for cock.

he’d take your hand if you reached for him, shifting all of his weight to press into your chest and nearly crush your ribs, so that he can angle his hips just right and make sure his mushroomed tip is smearing precum against your spongy g-spot constantly. then katsuki sloppily kisses the backs of your knuckles that turn white as you squeeze his hand for dear life. all while your bodies are tightly packed together, chest to chest, hearts ticking in a familiar rhythm. in sync. in tune with one another.

“harder, sweetheart?” he huffs, cheeks warming the the desperate way your mouth falls open. strings of saliva touching the tip of your tongue and the roof of your mouth — bambi eyes sparkling as much as your cunt webbed with slick and his girth that sloppily slides in and out of you. “so fuckin’ greedy. it ain’t enough that i pulled over to fuck you, is it?” he asks but he knows you can barely pull together enough of your sanity to talk — instead bakugou keeps going. talking your ear off, rocking into you harder and faster, covered in your cream. “always makin’ me do the craziest shit for you…”

his kisses slink up to your lips from your intertwined fingers — the car shaking from the momentum built up behind his pounding. you feel the twitch of his length against pleasure spots you can’t reach on your own, the same ones you’ve been itching for him to rub and torment for the entire drive. “m-more. please, need more.” you gasp for air between hiccups and meek mewls of ecstasy and katsuki does his best to swallow them. even though your mouth and your lips are hot to the touch.

“lucky you’re so pretty, even luckier that you’re takin’ me so well, baby,” katsuki mumbles like he isn’t lost in you, like he’s putting up any kind of a fight. he draws his slender waist back, just unsheathing his pulsating thick shaft from the safety of your wet cunt enough to make you whine for it — before grinding it back in, circling his hips languidly and leisurely. he needs the change of pace to fool off — burning under the heaviness of your lecherous gaze. it’s so hot in the back seat that the windows find themselves coated in fog and condensation. only clear from where you’ve desperately dragged your hand along it in search of something grounding.

it’s like this that he’s able to make you cum, on top of you like he’s trying to melt you into the leather seats themselves. your back drips with sweat that keeps you plastered to the surface — the backs of your thighs sticking to the golden skin of your lover as grinds into you feverishly, losing control of his pace, relentlessly jamming against your g-spot. the tight ring of your entrance stretches around the base of his cock where katsuki swells in preparation to give you another load. on the opposite end, your lips part with a shrill cry because the knots within are starting to untie themselves with the help of his dick, churning you up deep inside.

katsuki takes the opportunity, cheeks blushy like they’re sunburnt, and leans in — letting a glob of spit ooze onto your tongue in the same way your viscous slick rolls in slow waves down the spiralling veins on his cock. he looks so pretty like this, flushed from the tip of his ears, beyond the back of his neck and to his bare freckled shoulders — visible because of the dress shirt he’d discarded in favour of feeling your supple bare skin on his.

you’re sure that’s what makes you cum, gargle on your own moans and stuttered pleads for more. katsuki’s rhythm starts to lack but his stomach rolling over your clit keeps the orgasm going once it hits — you don’t even have time to warn him, barely registering the tingle in your thighs let alone the way your cunt clamps down all around him and flutters like she’s letting go. your essence splatters against the back seat and the blonde talks you through it, nose knocking yours like they’re become neighbours whilst his seed spills into you and over puffy pussy lips.

“atta girl, sweetheart. wreck this car like you wreck my f-fuckin’ dick.”

end ! likes are appreciated, but just liking doesn’t do much on tumblr! to support and motivate myself and other writers, reply, reblog and comment if you'd like to see more!! — asks are open to thirsts and thoughts! join my taglist ! love you!

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED © TTEOKDOROKI 2020-26. all fanfics & layouts belong to me. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai, or recommend elsewhere.

[tteokdoroki]

What do you think about age gap with katsuki and him fucking you so rough he makes you cry from over sensitivity and doesn’t stop till you squirt and make a mess all over the sheets crying out daddy I am sorry because of you ignoring his texts and calls for two weeks and giving him the silent treatment and even denying him touching you

✩ ꒱ ghost guys your age, not me — ft. katsuki bakugou .ᐟ

🏁 ꒰ ✩ smut ⋆ mdni ⋆ pro hero katsuki bakugou & fem!reader. implied age gap, reader is in college, squirting, daddy kink. katsuki reminds you that you’re not as big and as bad as you think — he’s not the type to let you ghost him and get away with it.

older katsuki, who’s done with dating apps and fucking around. who can’t stop pining for the younger girl who swears all the guys her age are too immature to keep up.

he’s exactly what you need, he keeps you in line, he doesn’t spoil you too much but treats you like a princess for good grades in your degree and the promotion you’d gotten at work. katsuki is too old (not really) for mind games, he likes open communication — when you tell him what’s wrong or what you didn’t like, what you love. if you like it when he kisses you like his life is on the line, if you love it when he treats you like his girlfriend rather than a midlife crisis.

but you’re still young and at a different place in life, the concept of ghosting still hangs like a tool between your fingertips when you don’t get what you want. it works with the younger guys, the ones who chase you and fill your ig DMs with stupid memes or spam like your stories of hot photos and nights out after the academics are done. katsuki doesn’t do the chase. he’d rather wait until you pull on your big girl panties and tell him that you’re mad about his lack of invite to the hero gala the other week. the one you’d pointed out whilst magazines in the front seat of his expensive porsche, prada heels on the dashboard as he’d driven you back to your apartment after date night.

he knows he should have invited you, dynamight would have loved to have had you on his arm. however, secret dates of strawberries and cream on rooftops at midnight are not the same as flashing lights and haggling paparazzi. he wasn’t sure you could handle the predatory heat of the limelight.

so when you finally come around, pouting from his couch over spilled red wine as you explain the reason for your lack of call and texts. bakugou doesn’t tell you it’s over, doesn’t shout, doesn’t make you out to be some kind of fool. he wipes your tears with a calloused thumb and presses you back into the sheets, peels back your clothes until you’re vulnerable and naked and fucks you like there’s an apology lined up on the tip of his cock.

“i don’t play games, ‘m too old for that shit,” the gravel in katsuki’s voice should act a warning. low enough to emulate the rumble of a predator’s roar as he hangs over you, teeth sharp as they scrape your sweaty shoulder — deft finger tips offering no remorse as they singe their prints into the meat at your waist. katsuki kisses the side of your head, starkly soft, compared to the unrelenting crash of his hips tumbling into yours, cock plunging to the depths of your selfishly suctioning cunt like a marker. like belongs. “you want somethin’ outta me, you be a good girl ‘n ask. yeah?”

his words land like a slap, scalding, stinging. tears spring to your eyes because you know now that you’ve been childish, katsuki isn’t like other boys you’ve dealt with. he’s a man, a good one, an established one who fucks you like you mean something to him. more than just a pretty piece of eye candy stuck to his pearly white tooth. he continues to steamroll into you, create a print of your body in the cushions of the couch — sweat clinging to the pockets and divots in your back because he runs hot, from the igneous rock melting around his heart to the surface of his skin.

“you want me, then ‘m yours. not gonna chase you, gotta use your words like a big girl.”

his lips, chapped and slightly pale pink, curl upwards. the motion subtle at first — beguiled. not meant to tease you, because you take it so well, because your cunt clings to him for ever inch he divulges and presses into your tight heat to make sure you get the memo. only he fits only, he stays, only he belongs inside.

not these idiots your age who’d rather make you cry from emotional turmoil rather than ecstasy.

you push at his chest but your hips rise to take more of katsuki in, slick between your thighs and over your pulsing pussy where you’ve been glazed with your own arousal — having came at least twice already. it’s some sort of a punishment threaded with love that lays dormant amongst red eyes. those same eyes pulling you apart, analysing the twitch of your face and the arch of your back at certain patterns of thrusts.

the difference in the softness of his eyes compared to his actions muddle your brain — like colours are contrasting painted on a canvas that reads complimentary. an optical illusion of lust and longing. bakugou needs you, the spark of youth you bring to days where he feels out dated, but he folds you up and pounds into you with strength that doesn’t need defending. an obvious and objective fact.

“c’mon baby,” the hero drawls, licking a line of sweat from your chin to your hairline. “asked you a fuckin’ question.”

“y-yes,” you nod your head weakly, the single thread holding together your sanity starting to fray at the edges — splintering. “yes daddy! ‘m sorry, sorry. wan’ you, always do. won’t do it again!” you babble, losing the filter.

“atta girl,” he croons. “now one more. make it count, make it messy. all f’daddy…”

the pro hero splays a hand against your supple stomach — coarse as he kneads your skin, feeling for the bulge the size of him creates as it carves a pathway to your pinnacle. even whilst bakugou shifts above you, attention never strays from your pleasure. it becomes the focus, the centre of his universe where you are the sole star capable of swallowing him whole — burning his nerves until they’re raw and sensitive. his freehand steadies the weight of him against then arm rest, new leverage for the swift, pummelling ministrations of his hips past the gooey ring of your entrance to the syrupy g-spot that turns your vision with brand new technicolour. blindly, you reach for katsuki — clawing and clingy somehow simultaneous.

ever an indicator that you miss him, that even in your blissed out state you’re aware of how childish you’ve been. you’ve missed katsuki like the sun must miss the moon when they rise and fall on opposite ends of the sky, like someone’s carved out an organ you need to survive. he may be older and wiser and all things you are not — but he is a presence you now fear you cannot live without. your body, creaking with exhaustion and a tiredness that pleasantly buzzes into something warm and rapid in your lower belly — gives in one last time, as though to make the old man’s dying wish come true.

the upholstery below becomes tainted, the material darkening as a lubricious cascade of essence pools between your folds in turbid stream, adding a sheen to your clit and katsuki’s tummy that has softened with slight age. your fingers curl in the coils of silvering blonde hair that have bleached in the sun as time has gone on — slick and damp, from the sweat that dots his hairline in pure pearls. as you arch and make room for the silent scream building in your lungs, the pro hero latches onto the swell at your chest with an eager hungry mouth, perhaps to muffle his whimpers as the crest of his own ecstasy follows suit. your orgasm puddles around the stretch of his thick shaft, mingling with the translucent white pushed out from the slit at his tip, beading against the lining of your womb.

katsuki bakugou might be an older man, he might be war torn and sharpened with age — but he is better than the type you’re used to dating.

he’s experienced in courtship and in sex, and that’s exactly why you learn never to let him go. never to ghost again.

end ! likes are appreciated, but just liking doesn’t do much on tumblr! to support and motivate myself and other writers, reply, reblog and comment if you'd like to see more!! — asks are open to thirsts and thoughts! join my taglist ! love you!

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED © TTEOKDOROKI 2020-26. all fanfics & layouts belong to me. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai, or recommend elsewhere.

[tteokdoroki]

bkg who puffs his chest out in pride every time you hold his bicep when you walk next to him…

yeah … yeah … he likes being your big man. so smug about it.

when you’re in public… let’s say you’re on the subway or the tube… n it’s busy katsuki gets so grumpy about all the strangers bumping into him — too close, too sticky, too gross. but then you topple over, latching onto his big arms to steady yourself n he just loves how you curl into him without a second thought as though he’s something safe, someone who you can rely on.

katsuki likes that. loves it — even. being your protector, your sturdy presence to lean on even though he knows you’re more than capable of handling yourself. he loves that too, your strength and independence, but something a little sinister curls around his heart and slithers between his organs like a slick snake when you need him. only him.

“s-sorry.” you squeak because the train carriages keep twisting and turning and throwing you into the hardline of his body. layers of scar tissue and sturdy muscle all folded up to form the man that you love. it’s like there’s a magnetic pull that lulls between you both, keeping you constantly in katsuki’s orbit and his in yours.

for a second; his breath hitches — held in the ridges of his throat whilst his ego expands throughout his body like a breath of air into his lungs because your manicured fingers, paid for by his big hero dime, squeeze the burly bicep. he flexes, on instinct, skin ripples and you hold onto him for dear life.

the blonde hangs onto the rail with one hand, the other slinking around your waist — he’s so proud of this, of you breathing against him, content and small in his arms. “don’t worry about it, gorgeous,” swooping down to your height, he whispers into your ear just loud enough over the screech of train wheels against tracks. “c’mere, don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

the tip of your nose brushes the centre of bakugou’s plush pecks whilst he stands tall and the space between you shrinks to nothing but a short thread. one red in colour like his bleeding eyes trained on you under the jagged edge of florescent light. he’s tied to you.

“are you… showing off?” you grin, palms smoothing over his molten chest as bakugou attempts to make himself bigger in this crowded space — pinching your waist possessively.

“maybe,” the blonde grins, slow and sexy. “got the prettiest girl on my arm, how can i not?”

[kkunai]

𝜗℘ ˖ ࣪ . ˖˙ husband!nanami hurries home when he hears you say you miss him over the phone :: tags. fluff.

“i miss you, hubby,”

—is all you said to your husband over the phone last night. kento had flown out of the country earlier that morning for a business trip and his absence was bothering you more than you expected it to.

but when you uttered those four words to him, you didn’t expect kento to appear at your doorstep not even a couple hours later. you stand frozen as your brain processes who you’re seeing in front of you.

“ken?” his nickname slips out of your mouth in a confused whisper.

kento lets out a breathy chuckle. a small smile plays at his lips at your surprise—exactly the reaction he expected.

“hello there, sweetheart,” he murmurs and steps inside before pulling you into a gentle hug, “i’m home.”

you don’t hesitate to hug him back. your head rests against his chest, hearing that familiar heartbeat that soothes your nerves. you stay like that for a good few moments before tilting your head back to look him in the eyes.

“so soon? i mean—i’m not complaining at all, but wasn’t your business trip an important one?” you ask, half worried that kento will get in trouble for dodging his missions.

the blonde man shakes his head. a large hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over your lower lip as he admires your beauty. “nothing is more important than coming back to my wife when she says she misses me,” kento responds.

you flutter your lashes as you realise what had driven him to come back before his business was taken care of. it’s all because you whined at him over the phone, telling him you miss him—his presence, his touch, his scent.

the power you have over that man is quite mind boggling now that you think of it.

“no need to worry. i pulled some strings,” kento lowers his head to press a loving kiss to your forehead.

…ah, right. poor ino, you muse quietly as you realise the hidden meaning behind his words. kento’s protégé always covers for your husband whenever he needs it. you’re thankful for the young man.

you giggle before leaning in to plant your lips against kento’s. he returns the kiss with passion, one hand holding the nape of your neck while the other splays over the small of your back. your lips move in perfect sync until you’re breathless.

kento presses his forehead against yours after his ‘welcome home’ kiss. you open your eyes and find him smiling at you like you’re his entire world. a gentle smile only you’re able to witness.

your husband sneaks in another quick kiss before ducking his head, burying his face into the crook of your neck to breathe in your scent. he knows it’s not even been twenty four hours since you’ve last seen each other, but he needs you like crazy.

kento closes his eyes and his body relaxes in your embrace. he empties his head—no more stressing about anything business related. all that matters right now is his wife.

he leaves a small peck on your throat;

“i missed you more, dear. way more than you think.”

[auelisse-deactivated20260603]

heian!sukuna with an overly sweet spoiled wife ♥︎

sfw drabble, sukuna vv much loves you (ironic lol), fluff, highk ooc but cmon we need a to be a lil delusional in our life <3

he’s a hypocrite.

“‘kuna! look at those cuties!” you pointed at the jumping toads while holding onto your husband’s arm, shaking it; as the other held your waist, and the rest on his left. “oh they’re wonderful!” you let a giggle out as he focused his gaze on yours. not a single eye on anything else. it’s simply unbelievable and everyone talks about it. how did he, get such a sweet beautiful woman as her to be his wife. or how did you, the sweetest person anyone could ever describe, get the king of curses to be running for your very own heart. “don’t you think so?”

he didn’t respond, just a simple hum. agreeing or disagreeing, it doesn’t really matter. all he wanted to hear was you talking anyways. the two of you strolled through the garden that he had formed for you; and sacredly only for you. picked every flower that he knows you’d like, and designed it to be formed exactly how you’d love it. and those who dares to walk through this very garden, would not be heard nor seen that same day.

as ever since you, noone could came close into having his affection. almost like a cheaply made folklore romance story. the two of you crossed the bridge of the makeshift river that he carved into the sea. “you’ve made all of this for me?” your smile impaled him more than anything that ever touched him, “only the best, for you.” he said with a little more than just pride. “that’s so so sweet of you!” you took a small jump on the side to hug around his shoulder placing your left cheek across his, where he catched you easily by your waist.

he wouldn’t say it, but this is what he does to show love to you.

[lilithkleia]

trueform!sukuna loves crushing you with his four arms <3 ! (reupload)

sukuna was an absolute menace when he was sleepy—and this absolute sculpted statue of a man, THE king of curses refused to fall asleep without his wife tucked underneath his chin, completely at his mercy and in his embrace.

it didn’t matter if it was the midst of summer, he would absolutely not fall asleep if you weren’t curled up in his arms, doing everything in his power to have the room cold enough so you tuck yourself between his limbs, your face crushed on his chest while his arms hold onto you like you’ll disappear if he doesn’t.

he never outwardly asks you to cuddle or anything, just silently laying down in your shared chambers, sprawled on the bed, staring at you while you go through your nightly rituals of washing your face, changing your robes, eventually seating yourself at the edge of your bed.

he doesn’t give you even a moment’s respite before dragging you closer to him with his four arms, using them to flip you over and lay you down on his chest, one of his arms petting the top of your head while he places the gentlest kiss to it.

and before you know it his arms are circling your waist, pressing you into him—your body melding into his, your soft curves against his hardened muscle, your cheeks adorably squished between his pecs, and he’s all but fighting the urge to bite the fat of your cheeks.

his lower arms comfortably resting below your ass, sometimes squeezing the plush of your thighs between his rough fingers, the nails teasing your soft flesh, and sometimes just barely tracing the stretch marks that adorn it.

his upper arms crushing your chest into his, it’s almost as if he wants to fuse your body into his, to have you tucked underneath him, the smallest smile gracing your lips while his arms coil around you, tightening like a boa constrictor, mumbling something about how you’re too good to him, how he need to hide you away from the world and how no one deserves you.

the warmth of his arms tightening around you, his incoherent mumbling in your ears, one of his hands tracing down your spine, slowly lulls you to sleep, your face on his chest, his heartbeat steady, warm and everything you’ve ever needed.

now, who would’ve thought that the king of curses was such an adoring lover?

i miss my fluff. @yorikae @yoonsucks @6x-x9.

dividers: @/pixopix .

all works belong to @lilithkleia, do NOT copy, translate or feed to AI. lest you wish upon toji’s worm to crawl up your ass.

[dollcest]

i gitta yap a little but im just soooo restless from my finals coming up soon i feel like none of my apps are holding my attention but i DONOT wanna study 💔💔💔💔 i managed to pass my mids Very well like 20/25 on average with minimal studying so like im just so used to Living my life happily. i want june to come now so i can truly be chud and loser like i want to

[konenichi]

I like the idea of pro hero Kacchan saving all of the plushies/letters/drawings his fans give him.