[riotsgrl]

AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES!

— bakugou, k. & kirishima, e.

part six — VILLAIN ON THE LOOSE!

featuring... villain attacks and hospital visits. (+ realizations)

★ series summary: your landlord kind of fucked you over, so you end up stuck with two rising pro heroes as your roommates for the rest of the year.

(OR — chronicles of living together!)

content: roommate!au. smau. kiribaku x reader (developing!). fluff, crack. some suggestiveness. college student!reader. UA grad!krbk. warning: bit of a long post! - click keep reading.

note: using this space for extra warnings — beware of: blood, injuries, hospitalization. angsty im ngl but everyone's okay dw

★ IMPORTANT — this chapter includes written sections. word count: 3.2k (holy. that’s my bad)

<- PREV. PART | SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

You couldn't remember how you got here.

Cheek pressed into the scratchy library carpet, smoke and debris scraping down your lungs with each heaving breath.

A small groan slipped out of you, the sound muffled against the floor as you tried to move your shaky arms to support yourself.

You couldn’t make out where the dull throbbing ended, where you began. 

Your eyes blinked in and out of focus as you took in the area around you; the once pristine, well-kept library was an absolute disaster. Shelves broken or toppled over, books scattered all across the floor, personal belongings abandoned or knocked over.

Your heart picked up.

Get up. You had to get up.

There was a fucking villain on campus— the one with that stupid costume. You really shouldn’t have insulted him earlier, you thought bitterly, fighting a dry scoff. Maybe this was your karma.

Eijirou, Bakugou— they’d be here soon, they promised you, right?

You winced, head ringing as you tried to recall exactly what had happened. Every part of you ached, memory came to you all muddled and blurred.

They told you to hide. Put your airpods in. Eijirou said he’d call. And then…

The villain?

No… no, it wasn’t the villain.

It was everyone trying to escape.

The second the villain had started his ascent up the library stairs, the booming thud of those ugly neon green boots of his echoing off the stairwell walls, the entire floor had broken out into a panic.

Everyone had trampled over one another to try and get away, desperately clawing over to the emergency exit, uncaring about each other when their survival was all that mattered.

You got unlucky, it seemed. Really fucking unlucky.

Amidst the chaos, you had gotten left behind.

Then, it was the villain.

Whatever his stupid quirk was, it was enough to rampage through the entire building, knock out anyone who got in his way.

You were in his way, you supposed.

With a sigh, you looked down, nails digging into the carpet to keep yourself upright. Your eyes widened at the small pool of deep red right where you had been laying.

You brought a shaky hand up to touch your forehead, feeling the heat of your own blood greet your fingertips.

Fuck.

That couldn't be good.

If you had the energy, you would've dragged a hand down your face. What did that idiot even want?

All you wanted was to pass some time before your next class. Look over the slides you'd be going over today, maybe send Eijirou a few TikToks you knew he'd find funny, bother Bakugou with random, stupid texts just because you knew it made his face twist and scrunch up in annoyance.

It wasn't supposed to go like this, this wasn't supposed to happen.

You felt tired. Really, really tired.

It was getting harder to keep your eyes open.

You wanted to lean into it, let the soft promise of sleep hold you gently. Take away the nagging pain pulsing throughout your body.

The edges of your vision were growing fuzzy.

Where’s your phone?

The thought snapped you back into the present, tethered you to reality. 

Eijirou's call— You couldn't remember if you ever picked up.

He'd be worried, wouldn't he? Probably. He had a tendency to blame himself for things sometimes, you wanted to make sure he didn't.

You glanced around looking for it, vision swimming, the colors around you all bleeding into each other. Your body was moving on its own accord, it felt like you were watching found footage from a horror film through your very own eyes; so unfocused, out of your control.

When you finally caught sight of your phone a little to your left, your heavy eyes tracing over it, chest squeezing when you realized— the screen, it broke.

You must have dropped it, more than a few people had probably stepped over it. You wanted to be angry, annoyed, even. But all you felt overwhelmingly upset.

Upset that this was yet another thing piled onto the list of shitty things that had happened today.

But… you knew objectively that it wasn't horrible. Phones could be fixed, and you could still vaguely make out the characters from Eijirou’s contact name through the cracked glass. That was good, at least.

It looked like he was on the line, seemed like he had been for a while. You couldn’t focus enough to make out the call time.

You reached out for it, held your phone up to your ear as you laid back down, too tired to move anymore.

His voice was familiar, grounding, safe.

You let the warmth of it settle inside your chest, ease you out of that sad feeling twisting up inside you. It brought about this sweet buzz behind your ribs, even though he sounded so frantic.

You felt bad.

He was saying your name over and over, telling you in that same reassuring tone that he always used when you got to stressed or too worried that it’s gonna be okay.

That he’s there.

He's coming.

Panic was bleeding into his voice.

You wanted to tell him not to worry.

You didn't know how much you believed him, but you wanted to tell him that you did anyway to put his heart at ease.

The corners of your eyes pricked. He was always so cheery, so upbeat and contagiously hearty in a way that it felt like a stab in the chest when he was anything but.

You wanted to reassure him, because you never wanted him to be sad, especially not because of you.

You couldn't remember if you ever got around to even saying his name before your vision tunneled into black.

⋆ ⭒˚.⋆

The only thing on Eijirou's mind as he burst onto the scene was the sound of your scream on the other end of the line.

Just thinking about it made his heart ache.

One second, he had been making the call, bouncing his leg anxiously as he waited for you to pick up. The next, you had answered, he let himself dip a toe into relief, but instead of silence or your quiet whispered words, all he heard was chaos.

Screams overlapping screams, crashes and shouting, desperate curses. But amidst it all, you. He knew your voice, knew it was you making that heart-wrenching sound the second he heard that shrill cry crackle through his phone speaker.

It was you— terrified, hurting.

He never thought he'd hear you sound so scared.

He couldn't help the stream of reassurances that left his mouth the entire ride there. He didn't even know if you were there to hear him, all he knew was his own desperation masked with those frantic, comforting words. Some part of him wishing his voice could be enough keep you alive and safe.

The thought had crossed his mind sometimes.

It was his job to deal with the worst of the world on the daily, stand on the front lines against senseless crime and violence, swearing to protect others with your life; he knew better than anyone how quickly someone caught up in danger.

Still, no one ever expected it to be someone they cared about— not even heroes.

When he finally got up to the second floor, the background noise faded out. The shuffle of his team, the orders being rattled off to everyone through his earpiece.

All he could hear was the slowed thrum of his own heart beating in his ears as his eyes locked on your familiar outline crumpled on the floor by a bookshelf.

He ran over, not caring if it went against his orders for the mission. He crouched over your body, mouth running dry at the sight of blood trickling down your temple, your phone tucked by your ear.

Reaching out, he held your face in his palms, the stillness of your expression frightened him. It didn't feel real.

Why you?

(He should've been faster, he would’ve been able to save you.)

He brushed back some of your hair, checked to see if you were still breathing. His heart calmed just a fraction when he found that you were. It was shallow, barely perceptible, but you were breathing. You were alive. That was enough for now, it meant there was a chance.

He picked you up without another thought, determined to get you out of the battle zone, strong arms curling around your shoulders and the backs of your thighs, holding your limp body like it was made of glass.

"Katsuki," He started, voice shaky but loud enough for his ear piece to detect his voice and turn on. "I found her."

His friend's voice came in with a grunt.

"She good?"

Eijirou's throat tightened. He wasn't sure if he could even get the word out without sounding pathetic.

"No."

Katsuki stayed quiet for a few beats.

Then the sound of a gruff, angry sort of sigh filled his ears.

Eijirou could hear the scowl on his face. Katsuki never messed around when it came to the people he cared about, no matter how much he acted like a hard ass to their face.

He remembered your first month together, how convinced you were that Katsuki had genuinely hated your guts. Maybe he had found you annoying at first, Katsuki was never really a 'people person'. But you grew to matter to him more than you thought, that much was always apparent to him.

Eijirou was his best friend, after all. He knew the guy like the back of his hand.

"Get her to support, Ei." Katsuki bit out roughly; voice backed by a low, simmering anger. "We'll beat this guy's ass into the fucking ground."

His jaw tensed, something inexplicable and red-hot coursed through his veins at just the thought of that shitty excuse of a man. He had done this, hurt you and left you bloody, unconscious.

He could hear him clamoring upstairs, along the screams of more innocent civilians falling victim to that careless piece of shit. The rumble of an explosion rattled off the walls, drowning out the sounds of everyone else; Katsuki was definitely on scene now.

Eijirou moved quickly down the flight of stairs with no more time to waste, hurrying to get you over to help.

"I'm sorry," was all he could manage, sparing a glance down at your face. You looked peaceful, pretty— even with the blood on your face and the small cut over your cheekbone. The thought crossed his mind against his will, he shook himself out of it.

Focus.

"I've got you now." He said out loud, unsure if you could even make out any sounds. "I gotta leave to take care of the villain, We'll make sure he regrets what he did today." He spat out that last part, the bitterness evident in his voice.

"I'll be back, alright? I promise you, I'll be back."

A silent part of him ached for you to promise him back, promise him that you'd be okay. He didn't let himself dwell on it, even as his chest squeezed. No time to let his regret to consume him. He would get you to safety, make sure you got into the right hands. Then…

He had a villain to deal with.

 ⋆ ⭒˚.⋆

It had been a day since you were hospitalized.

Eijirou had been silent. Oddly so. He cracked a few half-hearted jokes every now and then, but he moved like something heavy was sitting on his shoulders.

It was strange to Katsuki, to not have the space between them filled with his nonsense.

The two of them had fought side by side for so long, since the very first of their days back at U.A., but something about that fight at the library was different.

He had seen Eijirou get worked up before, he was driven by justice and an unwavering drive to protect others, Katsuki knew that. But that day… it was something else. The way he fought, the hard set of his eyes, the quiet, disgusted look he gave the villain as soon as he was apprehended.

Katsuki pretended that he didn't hear it, but he had listened to sound of his poorly muffled, bitten back sobs when they got home that night, let it bleed through the wall between their rooms as he laid down back in his bed to try and catch some sleep before morning came.

(He would've been annoyed, but it wasn't like he could sleep, anyway. He spent the night staring up at his ceiling, nails digging into his palms as he quietly clenched his fist by his side, hating the uncertainty that stormed inside him.)

When they got up the next day, ready to head over to the hospital to visit you, it became more apparent. There was something tense hanging over him, something sharp and weighted, just waiting to blow over. The idiot wore his heart on his sleeve, his feelings all over his face. Katsuki could never really take seeing Eijirou like that, expression all sunken and clouded over, and he could never exactly name why.

Probably because it was a shitty look on him.

He glanced at Eijirou through the corner of his eye, heavy arms folded over his chest as they both sat on the hospital bench just outside of your room. They could go in, the doctors had given them the clear the second they got here, told them you had been asking about them non-stop since waking up. But Eijirou had hesitated, stared at the handle of the door with wet eyes like it might kill him if he touched it.

So, they sat down because he needed a second— that was his half-hearted excuse. Katsuki wanted to scoff, but he bit it back, chose to just sit down next to him with a small grunt.

He didn't even get around to doing his hair this morning, even though his little routine barely took a minute. The mess of red fell over his downcast eyes as he crouched over, elbows propped on his knees, each hand busy toying with the other as he stared down at the floor.

His gaze was faraway, swimming with too much for Katsuki to even begin to make out. His lower lip twitched every few seconds, like he was actively fighting the urge to cry.

Yeah. Definitely a shitty look.

Katsuki let out a disgruntled huff.

"You gonna sit around moping all day or you gonna spit it out?"

"Huh?"

Eijirou sat up just enough, tired eyes meeting his. Katsuki searched them for a beat before finally snapping his gaze to the wall up ahead; fixated on the texture, the color — whatever — because meeting those sad eyes felt unbearable for some reason.

"Just talk, you idiot." he grumbled, as if he was annoyed at the notion of asking. Eijirou knew better, though, and Katsuki trusted that he'd pick it up: this was him being worried.

With a shaky breath in and a heavy exhale, he finally started talking.

"Somethin' about yesterday felt different." He began, a hand coming to scratch the back of his head, "We've fought villains for so long, seen so many people get hurt. Saved plenty more, too. It's just the job, right?" He tried to chuckle, just to lighten the mood. Nothing about pro-hero work was really funny.

When he paused for a little too long, Katsuki egged him to continue with one clipped word. "Right."

Eijirou managed a sigh.

"Right, yeah… but… but this? Seein' her like…" his voice got all caught up in his throat, like he was choking on his words before they could even make it out. "like that?"

He shook his head, hand coming over his chest, fingers ghosting over his sternum. Katsuki knew the feeling, knew exactly what he was talking about. Like something inside him might implode. It was jarring, even to him, to face the what ifs in that kind of situation.

(The what if of you being ripped from their lives just like that, gone in an instant before they could even process what had happened.)

"Don't think I've felt that way since Kamino…" Katsuki's jaw clenched. Eijirou continued, sniffling slightly. "…or the war. I was so scared, man. I… I really care 'bout her. I think… more than I let myself realize, y'know?"

He leaned his back against the wall, craning his neck up to stare at the ceiling mindlessly.

"I think I like her, Kats.” He mumbled.

Katsuki's eyes flickered over to him at that.

He wasn't stupid. He had seen the way you leaned into each other, the way the two of you laughed, flirted fucking horribly and obliviously with each other.

Still, he could never be sure. He couldn't care to know more, that was what he told himself.

Eijirou was always better versed in this mushy shit than he was anyway.

He didn't know why he scoffed. "You think?"

"What?" Eijirou's eyes blinked over to his, brows furrowed softly with genuine confusion. Katsuki only rolled his eyes, lip curling back into a small sneer.

"Either y'like her or you don't, that's how that bullshit works, right? Hell do you mean you think?"

"No! I don't think, I know it man! I do!"

Katsuki blinked back at him. That sudden earnestness was so typical, so Eijirou.

His heart pinched.

He looked away, fixing his gaze on the wall again, as if that disgusting, clinical shade of white was worth staring at. "Go see her." He said it was quiet, low and under his breath. This was his kind of soft. Intentional, a little hesitant. "Talk, or whatever. It'll fix your fucking face."

It wasn't the nice, sweet sort of encouragement it probably should've been. But Katsuki had never been good at that. He knew what Eijirou needed to hear most, anyway: "Tell her."

It was all he said before standing up, the action urging Eijirou to do the same. His mouth opened as if to refute what Katsuki had just said, but one narrowed look from him had it snapping back shut. He nodded, taking in a deep breath. "Yeah… yeah, you're right. I'll go in."

He turned on his heel, took careful steps until he was in front of your door. He spared Katsuki one last glance before he turned the handle, that determined glint finally back in his eyes. His thank you was wordless as he stepped into your hospital room, shutting the door softly behind him.

It was his doing, his back-handed encouragement that had pushed Eijirou to walk in there. He told him to tell you— tell you what? Would he confess? Sit there and just talk?

Something like a heavy pit formed in his chest at the thought.

(Why did it feel like part of him was sinking, being dragged down to depths he didn't dare venture into?)

With a scoff, he forced his mind away from that nonsense.

He shoved a hand into his pocket. Pulled out his phone to look up mobile stores nearby— your dumbass phone was broken.

He had the time, he'd get you a new one.

<- PREV. PART | NEXT PART ->

may blabs: hi guys it’s been forever im really sorry 💔 evil summer bringing me back home 😒 i miss my dorm………

but yeah bakugou in the trenches w this one 😂😂😂

“what to do if you have repressed feelings for your roommate but also your best friend and they both get together reddit” <- bkg search history leaked

free him

(am i doing too much for a fuck ass smau series....?? shi prolly but um i did it anyway !!! don't slime me out ok.. also lowk did not proofread or have this beta read so GULP i am sorry for any mistakes or if its chuddy 💔🫩)

taglist: @kirishimaeijiromyman , @drageonix24 , @sloppyjoesandwich , @teeesthings , @cphlo , @blessedblemishes , @updownandbatty , @themultifandomgirl , @strawberryjyam , @c00k13sandcr3am , @dabi-vakarian , @acecardexe , @direimpgrail , @papijean , @anunfortunateoutcome , @d4wnofnight , @lamathelazer , @katsukis-lilbunnywhore , @anabanana-26 , @kalan1z , @katscherry , @its-opossum-sauce , @shittingonyourgrave , @star-3214 , @l3eknow4evrr , @l-nectarine-l , @snore-3 , @mrssuna , @seishoyo , @theetheralone , @drabby-abby @amira-44820 , @extremebookreader , @d34ly , @katzukisss , @smelliottle , @lottiepop07 , @nanakamii , @sourpom3los , @catsooky , @ipukegiltters , @ariiiiee , @brekkielukiel , @kookiieeswirl , @accheolie , @mythicaloutlier , @citrustsuki , @addaberry , @asht0n-fox , @ssun4lifer 𓂃˖ ࣪⊹

if you want to be added, send an ask or fill out my taglist form ! (you can also join my general taglist for other works ^_^)

* if you ever want to be REMOVED from this series taglist, or my taglist in general, no worries! just send me an ask (i won’t answer, it will be private!) and i’ll remove you :)

[faekiss]

oh 💔💔💔

[dxckgrxsonx]

Hnnngggg not me thinking about cockwarming AK!Jason on this delightful Sunday Night 😩😩

**

He’s sat there. Perfectly calm and composed, helmet covering his head and hiding the wrecked look on his face. He’s hard and throbbing and twitching inside the wet heat of your cunt; biting back the pretty sounds rising in his throat.

He knows pain. Has suffered and suffered under the hands of those who just want him to hurt. He’s bled and touched the edges of death with his fingers; tasted it sickly sweet between his teeth, even begged for it.

But the wet walls of your pussy squeezing his cock makes him feel like he’s in heaven. He’s all endorphins and dopamine and full balls wanting to unload into your pretty cunt. He thrusts up into you like it’s second nature—like it’s a reflex. Thrives on the desperate noises that escape your lips as he shoves his cock into your fluttering little hole.

He snaps and snarls at the whimpering tone of your voice—begging him to move because you’re greedy and want to come; disregarding the thought that he may have an audience.

He’s all rough words and mocking teases and—

“You’re so greedy baby. Can’t even sit still like a good girl—you just have to drool all over my cock like a whore.”

And you are—weeping around his length like you’re pussy is crying, and it makes him half mad with lust—takes all his self control not to bend you over the table and give you exactly what you want.

Instead he sits back and shudders at the feeling of your slick sliding over his balls—drenching the crotch of his tactical pants. The smirk on his face is downright evil and he jerks his hips up just to hear you wail—to hear that whimpering hitch of your breath as he stretches you open.

“Look at you, making such a fucking mess. It’s almost like you didn’t cream that pretty pussy around my cock a few hours ago. Don’t I fuck you enough?”

His sanity sits on the edge of feral when you shake your head no—he knows it’s a taunt, an effort on your part to get him to do something more than have you sit on his lap and keep him warm, but he finds himself responding regardless.

Maybe it’s the quirk of your mouth, or the way you clamp around him like a fucking vice, or even the way your lips part to choke on a cockdrunk moan—he’s always been weak for the noises you make, all breathy and desperate and his.

“You brought this upon yourself.” He warns, “Y’didn’t think you could disagree with me and get away with it did you?—nah—you’re smarter than that.”

His fingers are rough and quick and have your thighs shaking something fierce over his lap—thumb circling the wet, throbbing mess of your clit. He feels it twitch against the pad of his thumb and he chuckles, the sound vibrating against your chest and forcing tears to your eyes.

“I’m gonna make you beg baby. You’re not cumming for a good long while, so you best get used to that achy pussy.” He brings you to the screaming edge—cunt convulsing around his cock before pulling away, just to hear your voice crack on a shuddering cry. “Y’brought this upon yourself greedy girl, I know how much you want to clamp down on my cock but I’m not going to let you—are you listening?—”

“I’m not going to let you.”

[dxckgrxsonx]

thoughts on being a brat w/dick grayson??? I love ur writing!!

Pairing - Dick Grayson X (F) Reader Words - 1.2K Warnings - SMUT 18+ - Spanking - Fingering - Dirty Talk - Swearing - Hair Pulling. Notes - Oh pls pls pls just let me be a brat 😩 Let me piss off one Dick Grayson until he can’t stand it and has to put me back in my place. Let me push and push and push until he makes me regret it, makes me beggggggg.

**

He’s calm, controlled, face completely blank except for the gradual darkening of his eyes—pupils expanding to swallow the pretty colour.

Dick never shows much emotion when you start acting up—prefers to slip behind a perfectly stoic façade even if your persistent misbehaviour pisses him off like nothing else on this Earth—makes him fatten up in his boxers at the thought of punishing you afterwards.

He thinks that sometimes you do it on purpose. Rile him up just to get a reaction because you’re bored or want his undivided attention—sometimes he thinks you do it because you want it rough, want him to put all that intellect and people reading behaviour into taking you apart.

He doesn’t care what reason you have this time though, because you’re dangerously close to crossing a line.

He watches you with indifference, refuses to let the emotion swirling through his veins show on his face. You sit easily on the kitchen counter, legs dangling over the side and striking the cupboard door with each uncoordinated swing. The constant bang of your heel hitting the wood grates on his nerves–he knows you’re doing it on purpose.

“Cut it out.” He demands, thumbing through a case file and refusing to lift his gaze from the paper. Dick’s clever, he knows you want his attention, can see it in your posture out of the corner of his eye, but he’s not finished yet and you’ll have to wait.

Your gaze rests on the side of his face, accessing his demeanour to decide on what to do next. He’s always admired your ability to read people—has brought you on for help on more than one case—but sometimes, he hates that you turn that skill around on him.

There’s a brief pause of your movements and he thinks you’ve listened—thinks that you’ll jump down from the  counter and snuggle into his side, whining and pleading like you usually would when you want his attention.

But you don’t.

Your heel hits the cupboard again, harder this time. The bang reverberates and he feels a quick flash of irritation along his spine when your eyes don’t stray from his face. You’re watching, accessing, seeing how far you can push him until he breaks.

He says your name lowly in warning and lifts his head to meet your glittering gaze. The case file in his hand slips through his fingers and he’s vaguely aware of the way his heart kicks up a few beats. Holding his controlled stare you swing your legs, strike the wood and fucking smirk.

Dick loves you, he really does. Couldn’t imagine what his life would be like without you in it. But when you manage to effortlessly pull at every last nerve in his goddamn body he hates you–hates your pretty mouth and clever mind, hates that even when you’re being bratty you manage to get him half hard and furious.

He’s crossing the apartment in a few steps, face unreadable bar the tightness of his jaw. Your grin only widens at his approach and there’s a smug sort of satisfaction written all over your face at the fact you’ve managed to get his attention–it drives him up the wall, torn between bending you over his knee until you cry or kissing your pretty mouth just to hear you say his name.

He settles easily on the former.

“I told you to cut it out, didn’t I baby? It’s not my fault you didn’t listen and continued to be a stupid little brat.”

He feels you shift over his lap, hips wiggling in an attempt to get away from the relentless strike of his palm—grabbing your wrists in one hand he pins them to the small of your back and you choke out a pleading whine.

The whimpering hitch of your breath makes him hard—has him throbbing and leaking precum all over the inside of his boxers. Bringing his hand down again his palm strikes against the tender flesh of your ass and you sob.

Your fingers flex and he smirks when you try to tug your hands free from his firm grip—you do this all the time, rile him up then try to escape the inevitable punishment that follows. It makes him feel almost high—having nearly total control over you after you’ve been such a fucking nuisance.

“No, baby. Naughty little brats need to be punished. You don’t get to piss me off then try to wiggle your way out. I’m going to spank your pretty ass until I’m happy and you’re just going to have to lay there and take it like a good girl.”

Your voice cracks when you cry his name, all soft and needy and pathetic.

“That’s not gonna work, sweetheart. You’re going to have to try something else…how about ‘I’m sorry’ huh?” His cock twitches when you wail. “I wanna hear it, baby. Wanna hear you say you’re sorry for being such a brat.”

He knows you’re stubborn—won’t give up without a decent fight. But unluckily for you, he enjoys tormenting you, pushing you until you’re ready to shatter over his lap.

His palm strikes you again, and again, and again. The soft flesh of your ass yields under his palm and he can feel the heat coming off you. Soothing his hand over your skin he dips his fingers between your thighs—chuckles at how wet you are.

Your hips jump up when he brushes your swollen clit, thighs pushing wider to get more friction. He quickly pulls back—slick coating his fingers, and you whine, head hanging low.

“I’m waiting, sweetheart. All you need to do is apologise, it’s not that hard.”

“Fuck you!”

Your voice is thick with tears—maybe even a hint of outrage underneath. He’s thankful you can’t see the evil smirk on his face—can’t see the way his eyes light up with the challenge you give him—because it would only egg you on, get you to push yourself harder to annoy him.

“You’ll be apologising soon enough, baby. And because of your smart fucking mouth I’m not gonna let you come. You can stay all frustrated and wet until I feel like you’ve learnt your lesson.”

Slipping his fingers into your clenching hole he slides in up to the third knuckle—crooking his fingers just right to brush over that spongy patch of nerves inside you. Bucking under his grip he releases your wrists and instead grabs a fistful of your hair.

Wrenching your head back he listens to you moan—pumps his fingers in and out of you to draw more pretty sounds from your mouth. Your tight walls clamp down around his digits and an uncontrolled tremble wracks your thighs.

Pulling his fingers free when you’re on the brink he forces you to arch your back and spanks you—hard.

Crying out his name you sob—lips parting to choke out a string of desperate apologies.

“It’s too late now, baby. Saying sorry isn’t enough, m’gonna have to keep going until I’m satisfied. You wanted my attention and now you’ve got it.”

**

[riotsgrl]

★ HEAVY | bakugou, k.

pairing: katsuki bakugou x reader

summary: when you’re unable to sleep for the third night in a row, katsuki notices— and takes matters into his own hands.

( OR: your boyfriend fucks you to sleep. )

content: comfort / fluff + SMUT - mdni ! pro-hero!bkg. established relationship. domestic intimacy. implied insomniac!reader — can be read as simply having issues with sleep. some banter. clear consent. soft kissing. slight marking / hickeys. pet names (baby). breast play. spit (on ur clit). dedicated pussy eating. fingering. self doubt/insecurity + praise/reassurance. finger sucking. missionary to mating press. "i love you" during sex. multiple orgasms. overstimulation. cum eating. aftercare. emotional & soft smut with feelings, bkg is very much in love !!! and he doesn’t cum but he dgaf this is abt u. quite some built up before the smut lmao. wc: 6.2k.

note: thinking back to the days i would literally Not Sleep 🚬🚬 also this to me is veery soft dom bkg i like dat ^_^

masterlist. | fic based on this request ! ( thank u anon!! )

The glow of your phone was soft against the tired lines of your face. You scrolled through your feed mindlessly, dry eyes fixed onto the screen, barely lingering on anything for longer than a few seconds.

Dull frustration sat heavy under your skin. 

You couldn’t sleep. Again. And it wasn't for a lack of trying.

You'd taken the medicine, made your attempts— many attempts. Setting your phone down, squeezing your eyes shut, wishing desperately for a soft, peaceful slumber to come find you. 

But it never did.

So, you did what you had done the two nights before this: distracted yourself. Doomscrolled well into the hours of the early morning, when the faint, first rays of the sun filtered through your curtains and you could finally get up and not have to pretend anymore.

It was all you could do, really.

Your weighted gaze dragged over to the time in the top right corner. The bold numbers 3:24 stared back at you like a taunt. You exhaled quietly, temples throbbing.

You should stop.

You should’ve stopped hours ago.

But before you could berate yourself any further, a high-pitched squeak tore through the stillness of the room.

You clutched your phone over your chest in an instant breath caught dead in your throat as the mattress creaked. Your pulse hammered in your ears as the sheets rustled behind you, a tell-tale sign of your boyfriend shifting in his sleep.

With a grunt, Katsuki threw a heavy arm over your waist, turning so that his bare chest was pressed up against your back. The warmth from his skin seeped in through your shirt. He was all encompassing, enveloping you in his dizzying heat.

Swallowing, you prayed silently that you hadn't woken him.

He let out a sigh, the soft sound muffled into the nape of your neck.

You remained as still as you could, fighting to not squirm.

A beat passed, then another.

Your insides melted with quiet relief when he didn't stir, when the rise and fall of his lungs fell in sync with yours— his body giving no indication that he was awake.

With a quiet breath you picked up your phone again, decidedly going back to what you what had busied yourself with before he decided to get all cuddly. But when the brightness of the screen decided to assault you, your heart dropped to your stomach, that relief dying in an instant.

You grimaced at the light, fumbling to quickly get it back down to the lowest setting. It had been all the way down this whole time! You must've misclicked, or—

"You're a shitty fuckin' actor."

You could've swore your soul left your fucking body at the gravelly voice against your ear.

"What the fu—"

You didn't get a chance to finish. Katsuki was already reaching over you, guiding your hand with his to set your phone facedown on your nightstand before bringing it back over your middle, rough palm holding your hand over your stomach.

Your shoulders were wound tight as he spoke; voice tired, gruff as always. But, strangely, he sounded calm.

"Third night in a row. You're not sleeping right."

It was less of an accusation, more of a statement.

He gave it to you plainly, straight and simple. But you thought you had been discreet, the mere feeling of being caught was enough to have you opening your mouth, readying your defense, but his next words had it snapping back shut.

"And don't you fucking lie to me 'bout it."

You bit the inside of your lower lip, running over how you could possibly explain yourself without sounding pathetic.

The last few nights had been much the same: restless, spent tossing and turning.

Even when you did manage to fall asleep on the first try, you'd wake up at odd hours, left to stare at the ceiling with burning eyes, unable to quiet your mind, which was simultaneously ever-racing and absolutely empty.

When you thought about it too long, the corners of your eyes pricked. A quiet, defeated ache twisted in your chest.

You didn't want to cry, not over something so menial, so stupid. Not now, not with him watching— expecting an answer from you.

You swallowed back the lump building up in your throat, feeling the slow brush of his thumb over your knuckles.

"Not sleepy."

It came out tight, quiet. Like you were afraid that if you spoke too loud, your fragile attempt at keeping all of that built up frustration inside would fall apart.

You wanted him to give it up, let you be for once. But Katsuki Bakugou was nothing if not stubborn.

With a rumbling sigh, he rolled you onto your back, reaching an arm over you to pull at the chain of your bedside lamp.

You groaned at the sudden light washing over your bedroom, tugging your blanket up over the bottom half of your face as if it could protect you.

Annoyed, you zeroed your squinted eyes onto him, but that angry furrow between your brows weakened as you took in the image of him propped up on one elbow to look down at you. 

The warm, honeyed lamp-light caught the ends of his mess of blond hair. It was unrulier than usual, sticking up in odd directions from sleep.

He was still tired— blinking slowly, as if his eyelids were too heavy. The usual harsh lines of his face looked almost uncharacteristically soft, but his gaze was weighted with something unspoken.

Guilt twisted inside your chest. 

He was awake because of you. On a work night.

You looked away when he finally spoke up again.

"It's 3 AM. Don't bullshit with me." 

"I'm not bullshitting, Katsuki," you reasoned, wishing you could just sink back into the mattress and not have to deal with this. "I'm… this just happens sometimes. Go back to sleep."

You tried to turn your head the other way, but he caught you by the cheek, pushed your face towards him with a firm hand to make you look at him again.

His jaw was clenched tight as he focused in on your face, took in your sunken eyes, the quiet exhaustion dampening your expression.

You knew he hated when you got like this, all dismissive and stubborn, a mirror of him.

"Don't do that shit." He bit out, his brand of harsh concern. "Not with me."

"I'm not doing anyth—"

"Don't be a fuckin' hard ass, alright? Talk."

"I can't sleep! Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? That I can't fucking sleep? I just can't! I close my eyes, I try... but I can't! And it's—"

You came to a stop the moment you realized the increasing volume of your voice. You reeled back into yourself, embarrassed of your own outburst.

Turning from his hold, you opted to look up at the ceiling, dragging a hand down your face with a deep, shaky sigh.

"Sorry," you murmured. "This is so stupid. But seriously, I'm good."

You didn't spare him a look before turning your back to him with finality, knowing that if you met his eyes — so focused on you, attentive as ever — it would all come pouring over. 

Your throat was tight as you spoke. You hoped he couldn’t tell.

"Sleep, Katsuki. It's late. Don't wanna keep you up, too."

Just when you thought he would give it up, let you deal with this miserable situation by yourself like you always did, he shifted— sat up, pulled back your blanket off of you with a single, harsh tug.

You groaned at the lost warmth, looking at him confused.

"Kats—?!"

He cut you off.

"You tried everything, huh?"

Something about the way he said it — rough and challenging — made your heart spike. He was up to something, but what? You were too exhausted to figure it out, so you offered him a weak answer.

"…Yes?"

"Right."

With one swift motion, he pushed your thighs apart. The outline of his broad shoulders rose from between your legs, thick biceps flexing as he brought your thighs around his waist.

Your legs tightened around him on instinct, bringing him closer as he hovered over you, supporting himself with two steady arms at your side.

You blinked up at him, wondering if he could feel the flustered heat radiating off of your face from being this close.

"W-What're you doing?"

"Helping."

When you continued to just blink back at him at that lackluster answer, a single brow raising slowly, he elaborated with a soft grunt.

"Said you're not sleepy, yeah?"

"… Yeah?"

"Cumming makes you sleepy." all blunt, matter of fact.

Your brows twisted.

"What?" The heat burning your cheeks crawled up to the tips of your ears as your eyes widened incredulously.

It was in his nature to say things as they were, crude and direct, but it still caught you off guard at times, especially over something like this. For someone who got flustered fairly easily, he sure had his moments.

"C'mon. Don't tell me you don't know it." His palm smoothed over your inner thigh, the rough callouses and scars familiar, warm against your soft skin. Careful in a way only you got to see. "Every time we fuck you're out like a light."

"Oh."

"Yeah." he murmured, a little smug. "Tried that?"

You shot him a look. "Obviously not, asshole."

He only chuckled softly, tilting your face up to meet his, kissing the glare right off of your face. His lips moved against yours, slow and intentional.

A soft warmth bloomed behind your ribs as you kissed him back tiredly, letting his movements guide you.

You brought careful hands to rest over his muscled chest, palms slowly sliding up, fingers brushing over the raised, jagged skin of the scar over his heart.

You wrapped your arms around his neck lazily, uncaring that they felt like lead, just wanting him closer to you as your fists curled into the soft hair at his nape.

He pulled back barely an inch, breathing a question against your lips, "You wanna try that?" before kissing you again.

Your brows creased, any semblance of an answer faded into a soft moan against him.

"C'mon, baby," he murmured, pulling back properly this time to kiss up your throat, mouth lingering against your skin.

Baby. He was calling you baby. Because he knew you loved it, knew it turned you to mush— hearing him, always so crude and unapologetic about it, refer to you so sweetly.

A shaky sigh slipped past you as he brought a large hand to the back of your neck, curving it toward him. His kisses turned to gently sucking soft marks and you shuddered, fighting a whine.

"Quit bein' difficult." he huffed, breathe hot against you. "Lemme take care of it."

He brought his face back to watch you like a hound, waiting for your confirmation.

Amidst catching your breath, you contemplated, pursing your lips in thought.

"I… I mean, it doesn't hurt to try?"

It was true, you hadn't tried this 'method' to sleep and part of you was curious whether it would work or not.

But, it was a work night, and despite your desperation and weariness, you knew that this whole ordeal would get in the way of and the strict schedule Katsuki kept to optimize his health and performance. 

He ate well, took part in rigid physical training; mandatory for the powerhouse of a man that stood at number 5 in the pro-hero rankings.

Like clockwork, he woke up at 6 AM, went out there and worked himself to the bone, put his body on the line, and unless the circumstances were dire (either he couldn’t sleep because of dreams of the past or he had missions that demanded later hours) he turned into bed at 8 PM sharp without fail.

From all the years you had known him, you knew that Katsuki was particular about his habits. 

But amidst your guilt, you were forgetting that he was also particular about you.

You had wormed into his heart, became something of an exception for him in many regards. But you couldn't see that now, not with the worry and weariness eating away inside you.

Your half-lidded eyes searched his, a soft crease forming between your brows as you looked up at him.

"... Do you want to, though? I don't wanna keep you up, or… or like make you do thi—"

He cut you off with a scoff, cocking his head in disbelief as if that was possibly the stupidest thing you could have said to him.

"Don't be an idiot, alright?" he pushed closer with a scoff, nose brushing yours. "If that's the shit you're worryin' about, don't."

His eyes darted down to your mouth, watching as you chewed on your bottom lip, voice lower; softer.

"Always fuckin' 'want to'."

You took in his words, blinking back the small sting in the corners of your eyes.

Katsuki didn't do pity, never did anything he didn't want to. And right now, he had nothing but undeniable want written all over his face.

There was something ravenous behind those irises, that fiery red sharp and determined in a way that had your stomach flipping.

"Okay," you decided with a slow nod, a small smile settling over your face. "We can try."

A self-satisfied smirk stretched across his face before he nodded back, eyes fluttering shut as he leaned down to peck your lips. His hands found your waist, sliding up your sides as he deepened the kiss. 

You gasped slightly as they wandered up under your shirt, rough hands smoothing over the curve of your breasts, feeling the weight of them in his palms— giving them a firm, testing squeeze.

He kept your mouth parted with his, slipping his tongue against yours in a careful rhythm.

You made a muffled sound against his lips when his thumbs brushed over your nipples, back arching just enough to tell him you wanted more.

Katsuki pulled back, the small string of saliva between your lips breaking as he began to lift up the fabric of your shirt.

"Arms up."

You complied, raising your arms over your head.

Those blazing eyes narrowed, a subtle furrow forming between his brows— you always thought he looked gorgeous when he was focused, and being the center of that unwavering attention always had your mind spinning.

With a final tug, he pulled your shirt off, watching as your nipples hardened, exposed to the chill of your room.

His eyes locked with yours as he leaned down, pressed a wet kiss to your chest.

Your legs wrapped around his waist again as he cupped both your breasts with his hands, took his time pecking around the soft flesh. It was only when you huffed quietly that he chuckled, giving you a long, slow lick over your nipple.

He ran his thumb back and forth over the other, pinching the taut peak between his index and thumb as he sucked one into his mouth, the subtle scrape of his teeth drawing out a small, strangled sound from you as he nipped at your chest.

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, keeping him in place.

An involuntary whine slipped past you when he pulled back from your chest with a soft pop, his hot mouth switching to the other one, the whole process repeating until you were breathless— gasping incoherent strings of what vaguely sounded like his name, nails raking down the expanse of his broad upper back.

He drew back at last to take in the picture of you; soft lips parted as you panted, a glistening sheen over your chest, dazed eyes blinking up at him— silently asking for more as they darted between his face and the obvious clothed bulge pressing against your core.

You thought he’d get straight to it, tug down his boxers and give you what he knew you wanted, but it seemed he had a different idea. 

Pulling back between your legs, he lowered himself to your heat slowly, peppering sloppy kisses from your calf down to your inner thighs. When he finally pressed his lips right over your clothed clit, you groaned softly, head sinking back into your pillow.

His tongue peeked out to give your clit a little lick over your panties; warm and slow and wet.

You whimpered, thighs instinctively tightening around his head as you sighed out his name, wanting to melt.

"Katsuki…"

"You're always so pretty, y'know that?" he breathed out before kissing you over the cotton again, watching the damp spot grow darker under the soft amber lamp-light. "Shit drives me fucking crazy."

You drew in a shaky breath, ears burning.

You weren't exactly what you'd call pretty, right now. Your hair was very likely a mess, eyes red and heavy. And up until he had taken it off, all you had on was an old oversized shirt that had seen better days. Your panties weren’t much better; plain, save for the small bow at the center.

But the way he said it still made your heart flutter— as if, despite all of that, you were pretty to him.

You couldn’t gauge how your body looked, what he could see of you, and you were too tired to try and figure it out. But the uncertainty was enough to have you breathing out a small scoff.

"Don't just say that."

The corner of his lip curled back like you had just offended him to the highest degree.

"Y'know I never just say shit." he barked back.

Maybe you had, in a way. Because he really, really didn't. He never said anything he didn't mean when it mattered, especially not to you.

You bit your lip as his finger hooked under the hem of your underwear, his eyes asking you a silent question. 

You nodded slowly, lifting your hips for him. He moved swiftly, slipping off the last piece of fabric shielding you from him.  

He stared down at your bare heat shamelessly. Drank in how your wetness glistened under the soft light, the way your legs twitched slightly as if you were fighting the instinct to close them at his intense, unwavering gaze.

He traced a line down your slit with just a finger, relishing the small sound that drew out of you. His gaze met yours as he parted your folds with two fingers and leaned down, mouth hovering right over your pulsing core.

You watched with shallow breaths, eyes locked with his as he gathered spit in his mouth, letting a hot glob drop slowly onto your pussy. You groaned when he dragged the flat of his tongue over your clit, mixing it with your arousal.

He moaned into you, "Taste so fuckin' good…"

His tongue drew circles around your sensitive nub; so diligent, so thorough.

Like with everything, he gave it his all, didn't quit until he was satisfied. His method tonight was torturous, a slow pace that dragged out each sensation almost unbearably to ease you into that blissed out haze that'd surely knock you out.

He'd barely gotten started, and you were already panting, mind slowly slipping into that pleasure-drunk state.

Your fists curled around the sheets when he sucked your clit softly, just to hear your breathy whines, smiling against you as you keened.

Katsuki Bakugou was known for his mouth. Snappy, explosive, unforgiving. It was what had drawn you to him in the first place, how he never held back.

But this mouth was the one only you got to know. Still relentless, unyielding, just a little mean— but it felt like devotion when he lapped at your leaking mess, fingers digging into your plush thighs to keep you in place as you squirmed.

You reached a hand down, let your fingers card through his soft hair before giving it a small tug. That earned you a groan, the deep rumble muffled against your dripping heat.

He licked a long stripe up your slit— wet, sloppy. Piercing eyes watching your face as he found your entrance, fucked you with his tongue before replacing it with two thick fingers, gathering your wetness before slowly pushing them in. 

You groaned as he worked you up to the stretch, pushed them in knuckle deep.

Savoring the stuttering rise and fall of your chest, he slowly started to pump them in and out. Your eyes fluttered shut, head sinking back into your pillow as his fingers filled you up, curling against that familiar spot— a slow, deep pleasure building each time he hit it just right.

You wanted to cave, melt, maybe sob.

You were so close— you could feel it… just a little more…

But… there was this feeling sitting heavy in your chest, winding up tight around your heart.

You made a noticeable attempt to keep your sounds down as your mind began to race again, your focus drifting away from him as a question resounded your head— you should've already finished by now, right?

Katsuki was doing everything right, touching you perfectly, like he always did. He should be done dealing with you. But you hadn't finished yet, he was still going at it.

Your lower lip trembled. Maybe you were too tired, too caught up in your own exhaustion to cum, but something was holding you back. And If you really couldn't finish, then this would all be pointless, wouldn't it? You'd have wasted both of your time for nothing.

Before the worry could fully cloud your head, Katsuki gave your thigh a firm pat.

You looked down with a start; eyes half-lidded, unfocused.

"There you are." He muttered. "Eyes on me, got it? Hell’s the matter?"

Even when he was concerned, his brashness clung to him.

His care was rough around the edges, imperfect, but it was all his intent. He wanted to be careful with you, you could see it in his eyes, how they were just focused and just soft enough for you to detect.

Even if he didn't know exactly how to do it just right, he tried. Because you mattered. You meant something to him.

He lifted his face just enough for you to know you had his attention, stilled his movements and gave your thigh a small squeeze, a silent prompt to tell him what was wrong.

You couldn't look away if you wanted to, even as you felt your eyes sting— not when he was looking at you like that.

You gnawed at your bottom lip; embarrassed, ashamed.

"I can't."

He raised a brow. "Can't what?"

You let out an exasperated breath. 

"Can't… can’t cum. I can't, feel like— I dunno, something's wrong with me, Katsuki, I'm—" 

"Get outta your head." he cut off your babbling sharply. You whimpered when he started moving his fingers again, tongue coming down to drag over your clit at the same time. "Nothing's fuckin' wrong with you. I know you can."

His unshaken confidence in you was enough to draw out a soft groan, but his mouth and fingers working in tandem to build back that tightening warmth inside you was what had your back arching off the bed, eyes screwing shut as the pressure above your belly wound tighter and tighter. 

That heaviness in your shoulders slowly melted as he picked up the pace, the worry and doubt wrapped tight in your chest loosened and faded steadily, the sweet promise of eventual euphoria taking over your senses.

Quick, shallow breaths escaped your lungs as you brokenly mumbled his name, bucking your hips against his mouth, squeezing around his head with your legs. Your hands found his hair again, pulling without a care as he nearly doubled his efforts.

With a choked out sob, you finally came, the fingers curled in his hair tightening just a bit more one last time before going lax.

You could feel him smiling against your core as you came down; proud, a little cocky, but above all, happy to be lost in the taste of you.

He kissed you through it, mouth unrelenting against your pussy even as your thighs spasmed and trembled, working you down from your orgasm.

With a final kiss over your clit, he finally pulled back, wiping the mixture of his saliva and your slick off the bottom half of his face lazily, like he didn't actually care whether it was there or not.

Shifting, he hovered over you, crimson eyes locking with yours, reading you silently with the same rapt attention he had out on the battlefield.

A light sheen of sweat was cast over his muscled arms at your sides, the highs of his cheeks were flushed a soft pink, spikes of blond hanging messily over his forehead.

"Still with me?"

His voice was gravelly, a smoky rasp. Just a little breathless, but the satisfaction in his eyes told you he'd have it no other way.

You attempted an response, still panting heavily.

"Mhm…"

"Not an answer, baby."

"..Yes. Thank you."

He leaned down to kiss you, you moaned softly at the taste of yourself off of his lips.

Pulling back, he trained his serious eyes on yours. "Don't thank me for that shit."

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize either." You managed a snort at how impossible he was being as he continued. "Feelin' sleepy?" You hummed. "Yeah. A little."

He blinked once, scanning your face. Then grunted. "Not good enough."

"Katsuki, it's okay, you've done enou—"

"I told you, 'm gonna take care of it. Yeah?"

With his hands on the underside of your thighs, he pulled your legs around his waist, his hardened cock pressing over your still-drooling pussy, hot and heavy despite the single layer of fabric between you both.

Your heart picked up again; voice small, airy.

"Yeah…"

"Gonna let me, right?"

You whined. "But I just—"

"I know," he shushed you, slowly moving his hips, grinding himself against you agonizingly. "You can gimme another."

"Mh.."

Your lips pursed, brows pinched.

It could feel nice. It would feel nice.

You had warmed up to the idea, hips lifting just slightly to push against him as he moved, a quiet, nearly imperceptible motion.

He noticed, like he always did, but still, he wanted to draw it out of you.

"C'mon, gotta say it." his voice was a half-tease, low and coaxing, yet that mocking undertone never left. "Can only do it if you say it."

You groaned, embarrassed heat crawling up your neck.

He always did this—made you say it out loud, full-well knowing how it embarrassed you.

It was as though he lived to see you get heated, got something out of watching your lips curl and twitch in your attempts to fight your own discomposure.

"Can give you 'nother," you practically huffed out. "Jus' fuck me, please. Wanna feel you."

He smiled down at you, pleased with himself, and before you could even think to roll your eyes at that smug expression, he began to shuffle out of his boxers, freeing his aching cock.

He brought it to rest right over your pussy as he settled between your legs.

His eyes said look, and you did, took in his thick length, the angry flush of his leaking head, the precum dripping onto your navel.

He wanted you to see just how deep he would go, wanted you to really take it in. 

You felt yourself get wetter, feeling empty at just the sight— he reached just below your belly button. 

"You ready?"

Slowly, he dragged his tip between your folds. You let out a small, choked sound, nodding as your hips involuntarily bucked up to chase more.

"Uh huh. Please, please."

Katsuki’s abs tensed as he finally positioned himself just right, pushing into your tight warmth with gritted teeth, biting back the moan threatening to slip past.

He took his sweet time, going inch by agonizing inch, all the while your chest heaved as he stretched you out, filled the emptiness that had you aching.

When he finally bottomed out, panting, you clenched around him, whimpering slightly.

He let out a guttural sound; something low, ragged, already wrecked.

"Don't…" he breathed, voice cracking slightly. "Don't fuckin' do that."

"Sorry…"

"Told you not to do that either."

With a shaky breath, he began to move. Careful rolls of his hips, a hand splayed over your stomach as he eased himself in deep.

You stuttered out his name as that same hand moved lower, stopping right where your bodies met, the pad of his thumb slowly rubbing your clit. 

His eyes fluttered as he watched your head fall back against your pillow, panting as he eased into a languid rhythm, angling his hips with each thrust in search of that spot.

When he found it, you keened, toes curling, lips parting as you let out a moan.

"Katsuki…" you dragged out the end of his name, practically whining.

He only grunted, something like a strangled whimper managing to slip past his gritted teeth. "Yeah, I know, I fuckin' know…"

He continued to thrust slowly, pull all the way back out before pushing back in, intense scarlet eyes watching your face twist upon each intrusion.

You didn't notice his thumb had been brushing the plush of your lower lip before he tapped it.

"Open."

That was all he said. He knew he didn't need much for you to listen. You looked down at his hand, then back up, parting your lips on command, the pink of your tongue peaking out on instinct.

"There we go…" He murmured, slipping his index and middle finger into your waiting mouth slowly.

The weight of his thick digits settled over your tongue and you groaned, sucking gently.

"You like that?" He asked, watching your mouth work around his fingers softly, voice low.

He already knew you liked it, knew that it lulled you into a fuzzy, brainless haze. But he loved to see you nod back at him; that pliant, sweet look in your half-lidded eyes as you offered him soft 'mhm' around his fingers.

He fought the moan crawling up his throat, instead letting out a tight a chuckle.

"Yeah, I know you do."

When he pulled his fingers back, you whimpered, but didn't get to dwell on it for long.

He moved to cage you down, supporting himself by the forearms, groaning into your ear as he bucked his hips deeper into you, pace noticeably faster.

You threw your head back. It was so good, perfect even. But you still wanted to feel more of him.

"Closer…" You asked, a quiet whine behind your words. "Closer, please, baby. Need you closer, Katsuki…"

Katsuki loved missionary, you knew this. He loved that it meant he could get close, actually see you— watch as your face twisted from being filled by him.

But on nights when close wasn't close enough, he folded you in half, pressed himself impossibly deeper, brought you closer than you thought you could ever feel.

The second he realized what you were asking for, he pushed the backs of your thighs, pressed your knees up by your head.

You hooked your arms around his neck, he kissed the the hinge of your jaw, breathing desperate words against your neck.

“Fuck, I love you.”

You bit back a groan, feeling him trail sloppy kisses down to your collarbone.

“Y’know that, right?”

You were shaking, letting out breathy moans as he began to suck soft marks into your skin, lost in the feeling— the taste— of you.

Your hands slid to hold the back of his neck, pulling him back carefully. Your nose bumped his as you held his face, felt the sharp curve of his jaw in your palms.

Hand finding one of his by your head, you laced your fingers with his, gave his hand a soft squeeze before softly pecking his lips. "I love you," you pulled back just to murmur the words against his mouth before pulling him back feverishly, moaning into the kiss. "I love you so much."

He picked up his pace at those words, fucking into you desperately, "Can't believe you thought I didn't wanna do this shit…" He panted out.

"Always fuckin' want you, don't y'get it?" his voice was already deep. but now— rough from sleep and want, the rasp made you impossibly wetter.

The sound of your creaking bed and the soft slap of skin against skin faded into the background as he leaned down to kiss you, all messy and raw.

"Tell me you get it." the words heaved out of him, hot and breathy, his lidded eyes met yours, the blistering need behind them setting your skin ablaze.

"I get it," you managed, tugging him closer, holding him against your chest. "I get it, Katsuki, please—"

He groaned by your ear, "Fuck, I know. I got you…"

Suddenly, nothing else seemed to matter. Everything that had weighed on your heart— the frustration, the doubt, the unsureness in yourself. it dissolved to nothingness in the back of your mind— because Katsuki Bakugou loved you. You loved him.

You could feel it all around you; he was everywhere, everything. And part of you felt that was all you might ever need.

With a broken sound, you came, burying into the crook of his neck.

He breathed with you for a moment, held you close, heated sweat-slicked skin against yours. He pulled out carefully, gritting his teeth to bite back a groan.

You were caught off guard when he hooked your thighs over his shoulders, leaned down to lap up your spend— his grip was a vice, absolutely not letting go of you— his fervent mouth moving against your sensitive heat to stimulate you past what you thought was bliss.

You nudged at his face half-heartedly, too tired to even whine; shallow, broken sobs heaved out of you as your thighs twitching around his head.

It was too much, you told him as much. At least, you tried to. You weren't sure if he could make anything out of your nonsensical babbling between whimpers, but you were certain he didn't really care.

When your hands found his hair, you twisted the blond in your fists, letting out a final cry as he pushed you over the edge one last time.

He lifted his head back, lingering for a beat, careful eyes taking you in. Your eyes were shut, relishing the aftershock of your own high as your lungs raced to catch onto air, but more importantly: you were completely fucked out.

With a small kiss to your inner thigh, he got up.

"Where're you going…?” you managed between breaths, feeling his presence on your bed go missing, eyes opening just enough to peek at him.

 “Clean underwear. Water."

"Oh."

"Mhm."

You felt like you might pass out in the best way possible. Your eyes were so droopy, but you tried your best to keep them open.

You traced the line of Katsuki's back as he shuffles through your drawers. Something soft and warm branched out from behind your sternum, spread through your body.

Suddenly, you wanted nothing more than to hold him in your arms. Feel his body curve against yours.

He uncapped a bottle of water from your dresser and held it out for you, watching intently as you sat up shakily and took careful sips.

You handed it back to him, wiping at your mouth as he moved back onto your bed, tugging on a clean pair of underwear over your legs. 

"You shoulda kept goin' Katsuki…" You tried to sound harsh, scolding. But it came out softer than you wanted. "You didn't… y'know…"

He pulled the blanket over your body and his quietly, settling at your side. You watched as he laid his head to rest on his pillow, taking in the familiar lines of his face.

"Don't care." He flicked your forehead. "Think too much and I might have to fuck you to sleep again."

Your lower lip jutted at that, a small flush settling over your face.

Reaching an arm out, you drew him closer to you. Your heart swelled at the familiarity of his warmth, that longing in you satiated momentarily at the feeling.

Your hand found the side of his face, thumb brushing over the unscarred side of his face. You always loved that scar on his right cheek, thought it made him look handsome.

A small smile touched your face as you leaned in to press your lips over it, even though his other cheek was much easier to kiss. You liked to do that whenever you got the chance.

"Hey, Katsuki?" You hummed, brushing some of his hair back.

"What?"

Fondness curled inside your chest at his voice; it came quick because it was soft. Because he had softened himself, for you.

"Thank you."

He blinked back at you before, "Tch." then leaning forward to peck your lips.

"Told you to stop doin' that."

You could only chuckle, letting his large hand find the back of your head, pulling you down to cradle you against the warm, solid planes of his chest.

"Sleep."

You yawned, smiling as you pressed your cheek closer against his skin.

"I'll make it up in the morning, 'kay?" You mumbled, the thrum of his heart easing your limbs, his strong arms curled around you tighter. "Promise."

Katsuki snorted softly, running a hand up and down your back, careful and soothing as he tucked you under his chin, adjusting the blanket around you to make sure you were properly warm.

"'M sure you will."

★ IMPORTANT — the amazing art in the header is not mine! unfortunately, i was not able to find the artist to give adequate credit, so this is my disclaimer !! all i did was edit the coloring.

may blabs: hellooo guys

im still learning how to write smut so this was kiiinda stressful, but also pretty fun !! love me some acts of service solution oriented katsuki ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 and i like emotions ^_^

he has been with reader for a While that is why he is comfortable w this lvl of touch & tenderness. (tried to imply this by showing they live tg + share bed lmao)

while i don’t think he’d start off being rough or anything, he’d probably be more tense and… hesitant if it were earlier in the rls yk ? he’s pretty touch averse in canon 🤔

btw title is from the marías song !!! #peak

also wait bkg not getting to nut lowk a recurring pattern now im dead (will he ever get to bust? stay tuned)

taglist: @kamislop , @yameheartzzz , @aera-777 , @pandalover-valen , @ahallucination420 , @sparkkkyy , @talilosha , @ludic-art-k , @cupiditee , @spidermanlover3000 , @kwonminsoyeon , @lildidi , @annexblogs , @iv-vee , @sheltertoken , @starroll121 , @ipukegiltters , @keijisprettygirl , @sunnyjade4 , @blurpleuni-squid , @claymoreshaze , @chloesfinalproject , @ochaluvr , @5-st4rrr , @updownandbatty , @gaylittleboi69 , @randiiii , @marimars132 , @miminist , @everlasting-everlong , @l3viathanpup , @vr00m-vr00m , @eijiromelissa12 , @thescarlettfiles , @dizzytyrant , @ravenhood2792 , @imstressed17 , @sunnygurl713 , @cattyyyyy , @justamewithherweirdlife , @bakedbeansplease , @whimsycupid , @sleepyknight1225 , @ghoulerbeing , @cinnacai , wolf-ish , @z444r , @swakoko , @deeplightgarden , @artistic-endchamber 𓂃˖ ࣪⊹ :

masterlist ★ taglist form ★ want to send in a request?

[updownandbatty]

⏾ We're Just Friends…Right?

pairing: eijirou kirishima x reader

series synopsis: You, an overworked and severely underpaid college student, are drowning in stress and student loan debt. Your lifelong best friend, Kirishima, has just the solution for your problems. Well, at least one of them. What could go wrong? You're just friends…right?

chapter synopsis: after a particularly grueling shift, you have a movie night with kirishima! after talking over your day, he has a proposal for you…

minors if you interact i will set the hounds on you. you will be blocked

content: college!au, friends with benefits, long buildup to smut, afab reader, reader is lowkey kind of insecure, reader has a fat crush, talk of masturbation, skin marking/hickeys, kirishima is an eaterrrr, kiri uses pet names, soft sex, fingering, pussy eating, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap in before you tap it friends), creampie, aftercare!!, veryyyy emotionally blurred lines, angst if you squint. wc: 4.6k

author’s note: hi! this is the first chapter to a new series i’ll be writing. this is also the first time i’ve written anything with significant length, please be kind!

series masterlist 🕷️main masterlist 🕷️ header art credit: @sp1ritb0x 🕷️ dividers credit: @strangergraphics

Nothing is worse than a college waitressing job. Doesn't matter if you're working at a high-end restaurant or a shitty dive bar. Waitresses aren't paid shit and are treated as such. These are your thoughts as you cash out your final table for the night, mentally telling them to go fuck themselves for the $0.83 tip they had left you. You would have preferred it if they had left it blank; even that would be less insulting than eighty-three cents. You set to working on your end-of-shift tasks in a daze, the exhaustion from the day settling itself deep in your bones. The only thing that breaks you out of the haze your shift has put you in is your phone buzzing in your back pocket. You stop rolling silverware to check the notification, a small smile gracing your face as your lips curve into a soft smile. The noises of the restaurant fade into a droning hum in the background as you read the text from your lifelong best friend, Eijirou Kirishima.

"Picked up your fav food and headed over to your place!! Movie night :)" You swear the only punctuation this man uses is exclamation marks. You quickly send back a reply, letting him know you are finishing up sidework and that he should just make himself comfortable as you'd be home in about 30 minutes. You hurry to finish up the rest of your sidework and say goodbye to your coworkers as you shove your cash tips into your purse, telling yourself you'll organize it all tomorrow. Breathing a sigh of relief into the sticky warmth of the night, you climb into your beat-up Corolla and begin your drive home. As streetlights pass overhead, you finally feel excitement beginning to overtake the twisty, negative thoughts that had overtaken your brain during your shift. Before you know it, you're pulling into your parking spot at your apartment complex and heading up the stairs to the small, two-bedroom, one-bathroom flat you shared with your friend, Mina Ashido. As soon as you step into your apartment, you're greeted by the rich, savory smells of teriyaki and fried rice.

"Eiji, I'm home! Where are you?" You call out as you kick your shoes off in the entryway.

"In your room! Your food's getting cold, you better hurry!" The red-haired man responds. When you finally, finally step into your bedroom, you find the burly man sprawled out across your bed on his stomach. The sight is welcoming and familiar; you two have spent countless hours in this room over the last few years, sharing food and commiserating about asshole professors.

"Move over, my feet hurt." You grumble, shoving at Eijirou to make room for yourself and settling in at the head of your bed. He scoots up next to you, handing you your food as he leans into your side. Silently, you pass him the TV remote from your bedside table, too tired to ask him to choose the movie. Your brain felt like it had shriveled up and atrophied inside your skull somewhere within the last two hours of your shift. Kirishima hums as he takes his time scrolling through movies, eventually settling on a classic. "10 Things I Hate About You? Again?" You ask through a mouthful of food. Kirishima almost always chose this movie; you two had probably seen it at least a dozen times just in the last two months.

"Hey man, don't hate. How can you resist Heath Ledger?" The redhead feigns offense. Shrugging in agreement, you settle into Kirishima's side, basking in the warmth and comfort of him your bed. Movie nights with Kirishima always went this way. He brings food over, you two snuggle up and chat while you eat and watch the movie, and you inevitably fall asleep halfway through. "Anyway, how was your shift?" He asks, looking down at you.

"Ugh, my god, it was the worst. I had a twelve-top of frat boys right at the beginning of my shift, and it went downhill from there. All of my tables were rude as fuck, and my last table tipped me eighty-three fucking cents. They physically wrote eighty-three cents on the receipt, and that didn't even round it up. Just a random ass eighty-three cents. Next time, just don't tip at all. And ohmygod I have the same shift tomorrow, and I'm scheduled with my internship at the office all next week, and I have a huge project due Thursday." The words come rushing out of your mouth before you can really even think about it. You haven't even realized how stressed you are until this very moment when it all comes crashing down on you. "Jesus, I barely even have enough time to do this." You groan, sliding down further in your bed.

"Woahh, little lady, that sounds like a whole lot. You makin' time for yourself with all that?" Kirishima furrows his eyebrows, looking down at you.

"Ha, like I have time for that!' You scoff. "I'm so stressed that even thinking about taking time for myself makes me stressed."

"Hmm. That's not healthy, ya know. Maslow's hierarchy and all that." He nudges you with his elbow, trying to pull a smile out of you.

"Fuck Maslow and his pyramid. I bet he never juggled college, student loan debt, a shitty job in a diner, and an internship." You grumble, throwing yourself across his lap. Kirishima grins at this; you always were one for dramatics. He knew that you would work yourself to death if you didn't have somebody there to stop you. Oftentimes, he was that somebody. You'd known each other since the days of playing on the playground, and seen each other through heartbreak (mostly on your end). In all honesty, Kirishima knew you better than you knew yourself. And he could see that you were headed right into a trainwreck of a burnout.

"C'mon, you're smarter than that. You know you gotta take care of yourself," He urges, patting you on the head to get your attention. "Do you have any methods of stress relief? Any at all?"

You pause for a moment to think. You do have one go-to method, but you can't possibly tell your childhood best friend (and crush of many years) what that method is."I mean, like, yeah, but… It's not always effective." You sigh.

"Aw, well, that's a shame, what is it? Maybe I can help you find some new ones to try out!" God bless this man. So clueless, but so desperate to help.

"Eiji, it's private."

"What kind of stress relief would be so private you can't te—oh!" Kirishima's cheeks flush bright red as the implication of your statement settles in. "Well, uh..that's a good method! It's not effective, though?"

"Eijirou, stop talking about me masturbating!" You yell, rolling over to bury your face in your bed covers.

"Sorry! I just want to help however I can!" Kirishima yelps, clearly just as embarrassed by this situation as you are. It's not like you guys had never talked about sex, but never so openly, and definitely never about masturbation.

"Oh my god stoppp!" Your whine is muffled by the blankets. "I really appreciate it, but this is not something you can help me with, Kiri." You can't see him, but you feel him pause. His legs are stiff underneath you, his hand has moved away from your head, hell, he may have even stopped breathing. Bracing yourself, you peek up at him. He has a thoughtful look on his face, one that makes your stomach flutter and your heart twist up around itself. When Kirishima finally speaks, you think your brain has finally been fried from all the stress you're under.

"Well…I could. I mean, only if you wanted me to! But, I could, you know, help with that." He says it so casually, like offering to have sex with your best friend is a normal thing. You shoot up, staring at him with wide, incredulous eyes.

"Kirishima, I'm so serious, you cannot joke like that."

"Come on, you know me. I wouldn't joke about something like that. I'm just saying, if it's stress relief you're needing, I'd rather you find that with me than some guy you don't know. I just wanna make sure you're happy and safe." Kirishima reassures you, reaching out to take your shaking hand in his. Your heart is pounding out of your chest. You've had a crush on Kirishima since you two were kids, but you'd never seen any evidence of those feelings being returned. Sure, he was sweet and a gentleman, but he was like that with everyone, women especially. There was no way you could go through with this. You could ruin years of friendship for what, a little stress relief? Absolutely not. And yet…the selfish part of your brain is screaming at you to say yes. Even if he didn't feel the same way, you could still have him, if only in that blurry place between friendship and love. No, that's not fair, to either of us, you tell yourself. You open your mouth intending to say no, and yet —

"Okay." You barely even recognize your own voice when you finally speak. Did that really just come out of your mouth? What is wrong with you? He's going to think you're so desperate and a freak and—

"Okay? That's it? I mean, really, are you sure?" Kirishima's voice breaks you out of your spiral. That concerned look is back in his eyes as they search your face for any hesitation. He wants you to be absolutely certain of your decision. "You can say no, it's not a big deal at all!" Kirishima's thumb brushes over the top of your hand, grounding you, pulling you back in.

"I'm sure. It makes sense, it's smart. I know you, and I trust you. But what happens if feelings start to get involved?" Your voice wavers at the end of your sentence. You almost hope he doesn't answer. You almost hope your question makes him change his mind. There's no telling how he'll respond, and you don't even know what you want him to say.

Kirishima simply shrugs and gently pulls you into his lap, his hands settling firmly on your hips. "I think we can cross that bridge when we get to it. This is supposed to be stress-relieving, not stress-inducing." You bite your lower lip, taking a moment to think it over. You don't want to worry about this; you don't want to think about feelings. You control every other area of your life down to the minute, can't you just let this one thing be?

"Yeah, okay. That sounds good." You breathe out, letting your body relax as you lean into Kirishima's touch. You always knew he was on the beefy side, but sitting here, right in his lap, he seems larger than life."Eijirou…will you kiss me?" Your voice comes out quieter than you mean it to, but Kirishima doesn't give you any time to ruminate on that, as his lips are on yours the second you finish your sentence. The kiss is soft and tentative at first, as you learn the taste of each other's lips. He kisses you as though he's afraid you'll slip right through his hands if he's too rough. It's not the first time you had kissed each other; Kirishima was your first kiss. But this was the first time it had been anything more than practice for future relationships. You wrap your arms around his strong shoulders, desperate to be closer to him. He gladly pulls you closer, deepening the kiss as he does; his tongue laps at your bottom lip, begging for entrance. You grant it, letting his tongue twist around yours and explore every corner of your mouth. He steals the breath right out of your lungs, making it feel as though you are drowning in him. Your head begins to spin, and you pull back to wrench some oxygen back into your lungs, leaving just centimeters between your lips.

"Hey, you okay?" Kirishima whispers, stroking your cheek with his thumb. The contrast of his rough, calloused hand against the soft, supple skin of your cheek is delicious. Meeting his eyes, you nod, still a bit breathless.

"I need more…please?" You feel completely out of your element, in the best way. All you want is for him to take the lead, a feeling that is completely unfamiliar to you. A small smile graces Kirishima's lips, and as if he has read your mind, he tightens his grip on your hips and flips you on the bed, settling his hips between your thighs.

"I got you, pretty." He murmurs, leaning down to kiss the side of your neck as he slips his warm hands beneath your shirt. You shiver as the heat from his hands blooms across your stomach. The warmth spreads as Kirishima alternates between sucking hickies into the skin of your neck, then lavishing over the marks with his tongue, soothing the sting. You wind your fingers around the hairs at the base of his neck, accidentally pulling at them when Kirishima bites at the juncture between your shoulder and neck. He lets out a deep, gravelly groan that shoots straight to your core and has you squeezing your thighs around his hips. Kirishima chuckles at your reaction and moves to pull your shirt up. "Wanna take this off for me?"

Nodding immediately, you pull your shirt over your head and toss it to the side, followed by your bra. Kirishima is pulling at the waistband of your work pants next, silently asking for permission to tug them off. You quickly unbutton them and lift your hips to allow Kirishima to pull them off. "Wow." Kirishima breathes out, looking over your nearly-naked form. A soft blush creeps up your cheeks at his reaction. It's not like you hadn't been with a guy before, but this was much more intimate than it had been with the others. The warm glow of your bedside lamp and the low murmur of the television playing in the background created such a comfortable, romantic atmosphere that you could almost forget that you and Eijirou were just friends.

You're pulled out of your thoughts by the sensation of sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along your inner thigh. You shiver, and goosebumps rise on your skin as you realize just how close Kirishima is to where you need him most. You're sure your panties are soaked through with your slick, and you're a bit embarrassed by how easily you unravel in Eijirou's hands. He, on the other hand, absolutely loves it. He can't get enough of you, and all he's done is kiss you. You gasp and instinctively squirm when Kirishima presses his nose against your clothed clit, lightly grinding against it and inhaling your scent. "Oh, god, Kiri, you don't have to do that." You murmur, your cheeks burning once again.

"Who said anything about having to? I do this for the love of the game." He grins up at you, playfully nipping at the fat of your inner thigh.

"Well, I know, but like…I just got off a 10-hour shift, I'm sure I'm not like… fresh, you know?" You huff, playing with your hands.

"You know I don't care about that, hun. C'mon, just lemme taste you, please? You smell so fucking good, I jus' wanna taste you." Eijirou pleads, already beginning to slide your thong over your hips. Biting your lip, you nod and lift your hips once more so Kirishima can finally, finally get to your pussy. He, however, decides to take his time with it, placing featherlight kisses across your lower stomach, then your hips and your inner thighs, until you're whining and squirming underneath him, desperate for any sort of friction. Eijirou simply hums and ducks his head down, licking up your slit in what feels like slow motion. Your head falls back into your pillows, a long, drawn-out moan leaving your lips.

"Oh, fuck, Ejirou…" You whine out, carding your fingers through his hair. He takes this as a sign to continue and fully dives in, flicking his tongue over your clit until you're crying out and tugging at his hair, making him moan into your cunt. Looking down at him, you think it's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. His bright red hair, which is usually spiked up, is plastered to his forehead, his pupils are blown, and his lower face is coated in a shining layer of your slick. You take a moment to imprint this image into your mind, committing every detail to memory. You're interrupted by the hulking man tugging your thighs over his shoulders so he can bury his face even deeper into your creamy pussy. He devours you like you're his last meal, all greedy and messy until your thighs are trembling around his ears. It's been so long since you've been touched by another person, and you're so, so close to cumming. "My god, Eijirou, please, I need to…" Your words are barely coherent, sounding more like moans and whimpers than anything else.

"You gonna cum for me, pretty?" Kirishima's voice is low and husky, laced with lust. "Let go, I've got you." One of his thick fingers slips inside you as he speaks, curving up as he works it in and out. You're so lost in the sensation that you don't even notice him grinding against the bed, undoubtedly seeking to ease some of his own tension. He slips a second finger inside you, punctuating it with a harsh suck to your clit, and you're tumbling over the edge, your quaking thighs locking around his head as your hips chase his retreating fingers. Eijirou scatters kisses along your inner thigh as you come down, stroking his thumb along your outer thigh. "How you feelin'? Any less stressed?" He hums cheerfully.

You let out a breathy laugh. "A bit, yeah. How're you feeling?"

"I'm great!" Kirishima brushes you off, but now that you're paying more attention, you notice the subtle grinding of his hips against your mattress.

"Hmm, I think it's your turn now." You hum, tugging his shirt over his head and tossing it to the floor, where your discarded clothing already lay.

"Nah, this is supposed to be about you." Kirishima shakes his head. "Don't worry about me." It's just like him to get you off and tell you he doesn't need anything in return. If he were any more selfless, you might call him a doormat. But no, that wasn't him either. Kirishima took pride in taking care of himself and those he loved. He took pride in being a genuinely good man, and that meant that sometimes, the needs of others came before his own. You weren't about to let that happen, though. At least not tonight.

"Well, it can be about me and still make you feel good." You shrug. Kirishima takes a moment, then hums in assent as he moves from the space between your legs and stands. You watch his deliciously veiny hands as he removes his belt and unzips his jeans, slowly revealing his intimidatingly large bulge. You almost hoped that he was already fully hard; there was no way it would fit if it got any bigger. "Jesus Christ…" you whisper to yourself.

Kirishima simply smirks at your remark and continues his motions, pulling his boxers off with his jeans. His heavy cock slaps against his stomach as it is freed, and you can't help but watch, awestruck. It's so thick and pretty, with prominent veins curving around the shaft, his swollen tip an angry, throbbing red. A drop of precum gleams pearlescent in the low light of your bedroom, and you have to resist the incredibly strong urge to lean forward and lick it off. Kirishima moves back onto the bed, kneeling over you and caging you in with his arms. "Open up." He murmurs, brushing your bottom lip with his thumb. With a coy smile, you part your lips, slipping your tongue out to lick the tip of the offending thumb. "Wider for me." He rasps, sliding his index and middle fingers into your mouth. "Now suck." Intrigued, you follow his instruction, hollowing your cheeks and licking around his thick fingers to the best of your ability. Once he's satisfied, Eijirou pulls his fingers from your mouth and reaches down between your legs, rubbing your clit with his thumb as he slips his fingers into your cunt. He starts slow, dragging his fingers in and out, never breaking pace. His fingers work you open at a torturous pace, until three of his fingers can comfortably glide in and out of your soaked cunt.

"Eiji, pleaseee," you whine, squirming underneath him. His fingers fill you up so nicely, but you want to feel him, all of him.

"Please, what?" Kirishima has the audacity to tease you. In this moment, with his fingers inside of you, he has the gall to tease you. This is so not how friends with benefits act.

"Ugh, come onnn, just fuck me." You huff, your cheeks burning as you avert your eyes, refusing to acknowledge what you had just said.

"Your wish is my command." There's a cheeky grin on his face, which is quickly replaced with an expression of pure as he presses the tip of his fat cock into your warm, welcoming pussy. Your expression matches his, a gasp catching in your throat at the initial burn of the stretch.

"Oh fuck, there's no way that thing is fitting all the way in." You gasp out, but your words don't match your actions. You're grinding your hips against him, clawing at his shoulders, pulling him closer, anything to feel the full weight of him inside of you. Kirishima groans as he slowly eases himself inside of you, maintaining the slow pace for your sake. He desperately wants to slam his cock inside of you, thrust into you with reckless abandon, bury himself in your weeping cunt. But he doesn't. Instead, he slowly drags himself in and out, in and out, pulling whimpers and moans from your swollen, bitten lips. You feel so fucking full already; all rational thought has left your mind, leaving behind only thoughts of Eijirou.

You grab his face to pull him down into a desperate, messy kiss. It's sloppy, your paces not quite matched, your nose bumping his, but neither of you cares. As the kiss intensifies, so do Eijirou's thrusts, until he is holding onto your hips with an iron grip to keep you in place as he pounds into you. At this pace, it isn't long until you're coming undone, your cunt fluttering around him in pulsing waves. You bite down on his lower lip to muffle your moan, which honestly could be classed more as a yell. You're grateful you have him to dampen your sounds, as you can only imagine the comments Mina would be making the next day.

Kirishima groans, gasping out a string of curses. "Sh-shit, babe, you gotta stop doin' that, or I'm gonna lose it."

You whine, your legs trembling with the aftershocks. "Can't, feels too good, Eiji." The burly man simply shakes his head and hauls your legs up over his shoulders, leaning down until your thighs are pressed into your chest, effectively pinning you. He resumes his brutal pace, filling the room with sounds of skin slapping against skin and your dripping, sopping cunt. Sweet words are whispered in your ear as Eijirou talks you through it, rubbing messy circles over your clit, bringing you right back to the edge. He had fucked you right through your last orgasm, and this one was building up much more quickly than the previous ones had.

"Come on, sweets, one more for me." He groans, his pace growing more erratic with each thrust. "Want you to cum with me." He squeezes your thigh with his free hand, continuing to rub at your clit with the other.

"Oh, my God, oh fuck, Kiri, right there, plea—" You cut yourself off with a long, shuddering moan, and find yourself biting down hard onto his shoulder to ground yourself as your orgasm rips through you, white-hot and unforgiving. Your cunt clenches around him once more, and with a prolonged moan, Kirishima follows you over the edge. He presses himself as deep inside you as he can get, sending ropes of hot, sticky cum to coat your inner walls. His whole body tenses up, and he seems to be holding his breath as he eases himself down to lie on top of you. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, which are heaving with the effort of taking in deep, ragged breaths.

"Goddamn." You whisper, trying to still your quivering thighs. Kirishima lets out a breathy chuckle and places a kiss on your collarbone before pulling out of you, causing streams of cum to trickle out of you. "That was… incredible. Should've done that a long time ago." You murmur, playing with the damp strands of hair at the base of Kirishima's neck.

"Mm, very much agreed." Kirishima laughs, rolling himself off of you. He clambers off the bed and slips into your adjoining bathroom, coming back with a warm, damp washcloth. He goes about cleaning you up, gently wiping the cloth along your inner thighs, then carefully over your slit. You whine and squirm away when his fingers brush over your clit, and he whispers out an apology. Your eyes follow him as he pulls his boxers on and flops down on the bed next to you. Feeling a bit self-conscious, you pull the covers over yourself and snuggle into his side. "You feeling any better?" he asks, turning his head to you.

"I am, actually. Thank you, seriously. You're okay?"

Kirishima nods. "Better than ever!" You smile at that and lay your head down on his shoulder. Your anxious thoughts from before are starting to creep back in, and you desperately want to talk about what this actually means. That felt far more intimate than any casual hookup you'd had before, and you don't know what to make of it. Did you feel that way because of how long you've been friends? Or was it just Kirishima's nature? Your thoughts continue to race, but between the warmth of your bed, the weight of Kirishima's body next to yours, and the exhaustion from your day, sleep overtakes you.

When you wake in the morning, Kirishima is gone, but you find a note on your bedside table. It read: "Sorry I had to leave before you woke up! I had plans to go to the gym with Bakugou early this morning, and you looked so peaceful sleeping, I didn't wanna wake you up! Text me :))". You sigh and burrow back under your bed covers. If you don't get out of bed, you won't have to deal with the repercussions of last night. If you don't get out of bed, maybe it doesn't have to be real. You comfort yourself with these thoughts, but your comfort is brief, ripped away from you by the shrill voice of your friend and roommate, Mina.

She barges into your room and leaps onto your bed, landing directly next to you. "Girl! Who was the hottie you had in your bed last night? Sounded like you were getting it gooddd, tell me everything!" She squeals, shaking you by the shoulders. "Oh-em-gee, hickies too?! Spill!!" You groan loudly, covering your face with your hands.

So much for fucking stress relief.

a/n: thank you so so much to @riotsgrl my beloved for beta reading and encouraging me to post my writing in the first place! i love you queen

[riotsgrl]

read peak now ❤️‍🩹

[dxckgrxsonx]

Literally no thoughts except Dick Grayson thirst rn, like that man is both Yes, sir your daughter will be home by 8 and your daughter calls me daddy too

HRHRHRURHFH

he’s, ‘yes sir, I’ll have her home by 8 but she’ll barely be able to walk and I have her underwear in my pocket.’

[nerd--writing]

Can you do a jealous Jason Todd headcannon pretty pleeeeaasse

THIS IS GOLD. BLESS YOU . 

Jason would be one hell of jealous guy , lets face it. More possessive than jealous but the line kinda disappears with him sometimes. 

Jason would probably get either really clingy or really distant, depending on his mood. 

Like sometimes , when  he saw someone flirting with you he’d come over there and just flash that “ I’m trying very hard not to murder you but i might “ smile and very politely introduce himself as your boyfriend. 

 And he would get really touchy and kinda inappropriate . 

All his previous statements about PDA gone out the window.

‘’Hey (Y/N) , who’s your friend here ? “ He’d say , an arm encircling your waist  and you had to stop yourself from groaning. This will not end well. “Name’s Jason Todd , (Y/N)’s boyfriend and who might you be ? “. Cue creepy smile and oh boy JASON CONTROL YOUR HANDS. 

And if its someone creepy who can’t take a message and is still lurking there or being just plain inappropriate and making you uncomfortable then Jason kind of just moves away from you and walks up to the guy , putting an arm around his shoulder and just whispers something.

You still have no idea what he really says but you have witnessed the persons eyes widening and they just leave and Jason kinda just turns to you and flashes a wide grin. 

“What do you say ? How about we get outta here ? “ He says to you , leaning down to whisper in your ear making you shiver slightly. 

Can’t say no to that , now can you ?  

Other times , its kinda different. 

Like when a really nice guy seems genuinely interested in you and is being very nice Jason goes all stiff and just gets really distant from  you zoning out and basically his “ i don’t deserve anything nice ‘mode gets on 

if you are at a bar he will just order a bunch of drinks and get lost in his own thoughts staring intently at the table or something . 

You obviously notice and politely turn the guy down , and go to sit next to Jason who is right now angst supreme. 

You don’t even give him a chance to talk. Putting one hand through his hair and the other holding his own you just say something like 

“Jay , come on lets go home. I am so hungry i could eat a cow and since you’re my boyfriend you will cook for me because you love me “ 

He smiles at that as you drag him out , making a menu of what you want to eat. 

~Circe

[riotsgrl]

do you have any bakugou headcanons? i know you don't take requests but i like the way you write him so i was just wondering 😽

nonnie do i EVER. i am sooo bkg pilled ... this is what my brain gave me, also i do take reqs ! js my own version ^_^

so, bakugou's love language is without a doubt in my mind acts of service. he's not flowery or grand about it, but to him it's actions > words fs

cooking for you is a big one, he's good at it and takes pride in the fact. making meals for you and learning your favorites is an act of intimacy. food is a love language !!!

he also often brushes you off to do chores around your apartment himself — does your laundry without being asked, keeps your counters clean, blankets folded, washes your bedding, etc etc.

plus, there's also checking in on you in his own roundabout ways and giving good (but slightly awkward and gruff-sounding) advice when you need it.... sighs

he has soft cheeks. funny cuz with the rest of his face being quite defined and angular, you would think they'd follow suite, but the slope of them is so gentle and rounded :( also, chronic pout on his face. that lip stays jutted

and his face does this thing where it scrunches up whenever you press a kiss to his cheek and it's like. the cutest thing ever uugh

his skin is really clear bc of his quirk (just like his mama) and yes u hate him for it. he doesn't believe in skincare.. the first time you sleep over and go through even the simplest of motions such as cleansing, exfoliating, and moisturizing... he's genuinely like what is all that bullshit for (his words btw)

begrudgingly does face masks with u even tho he gloats about how he doesn't need it lmfao

runs really really warm. total godsend in the winter. he seethes when your cold arms wrap around him under the blanket and scolds you like it's your fault it's cold.. then acts like it's the world's biggest grievance when he holds you back, tugging the blanket further over you. says it's to warm you up bc you "obviously need it."

i don't think he's be big on pda or being overly public w his relationship in general. it's not secret, just private. he does like it when you hold his sleeve in crowds or stick closest to him in group settings. big boost to that prideful part of him — he's special to you and that affirms it.

he makes u laugh without meaning to, he's so quick with coming up with the most crass combination of words and doesn't hold back

before you guys started dating, he isn't trying to be funny, but let's just say.... he thought a little harder on what bullshit he was gonna spew out when you were there or lingering nearby...... whatever that could mean........ 👀 (idiot)

[faekiss]

lovee acts of service katsuki :D

[lovesoakedd]

can you handle the heat?   ҉   ✼⋆:°*  ҉  *:･ﾟ

contains: breeding, spanking, teasing, d/s dynamics, dubious consent (somnophilia that is not explicitly consented to beforehand), light spit kink? (mostly talk of drooling and licking it up), reader is referred to as possessing a “pussy,” “cunt,” “clit,” “tits,” and “breasts”

credits: the idea for this scenario was given by this anon! thank you so much for the scenario idea! 

it’s a hot day, to say the least. the kind of heat that hangs in the air, heavy and humid, wrapping everyone in its midst in a summer haze, sweaty and drenched. it’s not a pleasant kind of summer heat, persay, but it is the kind that can lead to some pleasant results.

you decide to come by today, bored at home during this afternoon. by the time I reach the door, I’m already swallowing a lump in my throat at the sight of you. tight tank top, perched so low that I know that just a small tug down will leave your pretty tits exposed for me, if it weren’t for your bra. shorts on that keep riding up your ass, doing little for the imagination of the shape of your ass, looking so good as the material squeezes around it that all I want to do is grab a handful. you press a kiss to my lips and skip into the living room, immediately flopping onto the couch, chest rising up and down as you breathe heavily, complaining to me about the heat. I sit tentatively on the opposite seat, listening patiently and trying not to let my eyes follow how your chest moves up and down while you’re slouched.

you kick your legs up, going on your phone, and my eyes glance to your thighs. they’re so grabbable, just begging for my fingers to sink into and hold onto, so lovely and perfect in those tiny shorts. your legs rub together, and I can’t help but feel like I’m in complete reverence of how you look, fanning yourself and laying stretched out like the image of a painting, sweat sending you shimmering.

with a long groan, you shift up into a seated position, staring at me. I swallow a hard gulp, and when your eyes flicker to my throat, then raise back to me with a slight quirk of your mouth, I begin to grow nervous. “Are you comfortable with me undressing?”

Keep reading

[gendersouponao3]

daisy

read on ao3

5239 words, Explicit rating, f/f monsterfucking, knotting, r4pe, group sex, breeding kink, piss kink

On the way home from work, Mattie shivers and puts her hands in her pockets. It’s not quite spring yet but it will be soon. Mattie is overprepared. She’s not dressed warm enough and her jacket is light. But the tiny hint of thaw she can feel on the wind is enough to make her eager. The snow is melting and the dead leaves from last fall are peeking through. Mattie’s coat is quilted with flower patterns.

There’s a section of her walk that Mattie can do on the sidewalk downtown, or cut through the woods. Of course she’s going to go through the woods today. She loves the purple flowers that grow from patches of what looks like too-bright fake grass. They always come up so early.

She takes the little alleyway that goes to the woodsy part. Someone’s car is parked in the middle of it.

Mattie crosses the little bridge into the woods, and, oh, this is why she comes out here. The stream under the bridge is crackling under the ice. Everything is wet and muddy from the constant snowmelt. Mattie grins from ear to ear as she steps between the trees. Her shoes are already wet.

On the first day of spring, Mattie can forget about getting home and pick her way off the path. All she needs to look at is her feet and there’s enough to keep drawing her further into the forest. She spends several blissful minutes exploring deeper into the woods, chasing the source of the stream and the scraggly little patches of flower leaves growing straight up out of the snow. She doesn’t get to anywhere she doesn’t already know about. This patch of woods is not very big. But she doesn’t go into it very often.

She stops. Someone is leaning against a tree in front of her. She has long, blonde hair with shaved sections underneath. From what Mattie can see her clothes are very clean. Not what you would expect for someone deep in the woods. She decides she’s going to head back now. Something about the tree girl is rubbing her the wrong way, she doesn’t know what, but she’s in the habit of listening to her instincts. She turns back towards the path.

There’s another person in the direction that she came from. Dark, close-cropped hair, tall frame. She feels really uneasy now. She starts walking diagonally towards the path, between the two of them. She puts on her best “don’t bother me” scowl, tenses her shoulders, makes her hands into fists by her sides. This is usually the look she gives to men, not women. But these girls really scare her.

She looks behind her. The blonde girl is walking towards her, leisurely. Her heart drops into her stomach. She turns around hurriedly and keeps walking towards the path. The black-haired girl is strolling along the path in the same direction that she is.

She pulls her phone out of her pocket and breaks into a jog, heading for the path. In front of her, another girl steps straight out of the forest. Her long curls bounce around her shoulders. She looks like a girl Mattie would be friends with.

Mattie stops. She spins around slowly. She’s not surrounded, but there is no easy way out.

The blonde girl gives her a vicious, toothy grin. She shudders and turns away. She looks like she wants to eat her.

With Mattie successfully caught, the women are no longer trying to appear natural. They close in on her. Around them, more women emerge. They’re all as big and tall as the first three. Muddy, treaded boots, heavy shirts, jackets that cling to their arms. Mattie’s eyes flick down to the hand of the first girl, the blonde one, which is tugging at her belt loop. She has big hands and short nails. Oh god. Mattie looks around again. There are seven of them in all now.

She can’t keep them all in her line of sight. She can hear some of them talking to each other, low muttering and laughing that she can’t describe as anything but dirty. They’re getting close to her slowly, circling her like she’s prey.

“Excuse me,” Mattie says. “I want to get — can I get home, please?” It never hurts to be polite when dealing with strangers.

“Oh,” says someone behind her. “You wanna go home? We’ll let you go in a second, baby, just be patient.” The voice is leering. There’s another laugh somewhere from the side.

“Yeah,” says someone else. There’s a hand on her arm. “You’re gonna stay with us for a little bit. We’re gonna have fun.”

“No, thank you,” Mattie says. She steps back. Someone comes forward and catches her, warm hands around her waist.

“We’re not asking, sweetheart.”

This is the crucial moment where she needs to make herself a problem. She needs to struggle and fight and try and get a knee into someone’s crotch, but she doesn’t even know if that would work because these are all women.

She tries anyway. She tries to kick backward, step on the foot of the person who’s holding her. She laughs. Her arms wrap tighter around Mattie, lifting her up.

“Someone’s feisty,” she says, warm and deep in Mattie’s ear. Mattie squirms wildly against her grip, trying to kick her in the shins. She doesn’t even seem to feel it.

“It’s okay,” says another girl, whose deep caramel skin is split in a grin that reveals sharp, perfect white teeth. “She doesn’t have to like it.”

Mattie pants and strains against the strong arms that hold her up. If she just keeps moving, if she annoys them enough that they let her go…

“Come here,” says the one that’s holding her. “You wanna taste?”

“No,” says Mattie. Even though she’s sure they weren’t talking to her. “No, no, no.”

The girl with the curly hair, the one Mattie thought looked nice, comes over to Mattie and sets her hands on her hips. She drags her hand up Mattie’s side until she gets to her face, and then she takes Mattie’s chin in her hand, holding her still, forcing her mouth open a little bit, and kisses her.

There’s nothing Mattie can do about the kiss. She’s held still, and her mouth is held open, so she just makes muffled sounds of protest as her mouth is invaded. She’s gentler than Mattie thought she would be, but insistent, swallowing all the sounds Mattie makes as she drags her tongue along Mattie’s, filthy, sweet. There are sounds of approval from the other girls, more bodies pressed against Mattie’s, hands on her sides, in her hair, combing it out of her face for the girl to kiss her.

When she lets go Mattie is breathing hard, her mouth full of the taste of wet earth. Everyone looks eager, hungry. If Mattie didn’t know exactly what was going to happen to her before she certainly does now.

Mattie is dropped onto the ground. She catches herself on her hands, not wanting her jacket to get dirty. It’s her favorite. She spent almost half a paycheck on it. She has a feeling it might need to be put far away.

Someone’s boot kicks Mattie’s hands out from under her. Mattie yelps.

“I think she’s worried about the jacket,” the dark-haired girl says.

Someone else laughs. “She’s gonna be worried about a whole lot more in a second,” they say.

“Don’t be mean,” the dark-skinned girl chides, in a way that does not make Mattie feel safer. She looks down at Mattie. “Let’s get that shit off you, then, if you don’t want it getting dirty.”

Mattie clutches the jacket around herself.

The girl laughs. “Give that to me,” she says.

Mattie refuses to take it off.

Someone behind Mattie yanks her up and pulls the jacket off of her. She drops it on the ground. Mattie looks away. She’s wearing a plain white tank top under that, and no bra. The girl behind her reaches to squeeze her tit, grabbing it and pushing it up under her shirt. Someone’s hand is going to their pants now, palming themself over the fabric. Mattie looks away from that too. They laugh at how she turns away. Someone grabs her hair and forces her to look at the girl who’s touching herself through her pants.

“Don’t be shy,” they say in her ear. The person playing with her tits is being rough, grabbing them hard so they spill out between their fingers. “That’s all for you, pretty girl.”

There’s something very strange about these girls, the way they work together in such a practiced way, the way they degrade her like she’s not even human, the lack of concern for consequences. They laugh at her like they know something she doesn’t, like it’s going to be worse than she’s imagining.

“Come on,” someone says. “Get her pants off.”

The other thing about them is that they’re all so inhumanly big. Not to an extent that you’d notice if you saw them in passing, but so close, they overwhelm Mattie. They’re tall and strong in a way that makes them seem supernaturally powerful.

Mattie is thinking about this so she doesn’t have to focus on the hands that barely bother to unzip her pants before they pull them off, taking her boots too when her pants refuse to go over them. Her clothes are dumped unceremoniously to the ground. There are more laughs and comments and approving sounds, as they pull Mattie’s legs open, show her cunt to the rest of them. Mattie cringes and tries to close her legs. They’re so strong. She knows her cunt is shiny already and she doesn’t want them to see.

“Oh,” someone says. “Look at that. That’s pretty.”

The blonde girl smiles, that same sharp, hungry grin. She unbuttons her own pants. She has…oh. She’s not packing. That’s real.

It doesn’t look right. There’s something else around the base, where there shouldn’t be. The hands on Mattie’s thighs spread them further, someone else grabbing one of her calves and holding it far out of the way. Her shirt and socks are still on, and that’s it, and someone’s hands are ripping through her neckline so now her shirt isn’t giving her very much protection.

The blonde drops onto her knees between Mattie’s legs. She doesn’t seem to care about the mud. One of the girls holding her legs drags her fingers between Mattie’s labia, feeling the wet opening of her cunt, teasing over her clit, and then she puts two fingers inside her, rough, all at once, just to see. Mattie makes a horribly loud sound at that. The blonde laughs at it, pleased, one hand on herself, and then forces her own finger in next to the others. Oh, fuck. Fuck fuck fuck that’s three fingers so fast and it’s two different people oh god. The blonde’s digs deep inside her, feeling the wet press of her walls all the way until Mattie grunts in discomfort. She’s so wet, though. All the hands on her. She’s a bit of a size queen and she loves the three fingers shoved into her unceremoniously.

“That’s a good girl,” the other girl, the dark-haired one, says. “You take it so well.”

“Look at that,” the blonde says, taking her hand out of Mattie, showing them how it glistens. “She likes this.”

“Aww,” someone says. “That’s so cute. She likes us.” Hands on her bare tits, under her shirt, pinching them into hard points and tugging on them. Someone else gets behind her and rips her shirt all the way off. Now she’s just in socks.

“You do, don’t you,” says the dark-haired girl. She spreads her fingers in Mattie’s cunt. Mattie knows she’s leaking between them, more as she pulls them out and spreads them around her clit, pulling her lips apart, baring her. The blonde growls, and it sounds not like a person but like an animal. Mattie’s cunt pulses.

“I’m going to fuck that sweet little cunt,” she says, getting her hand on Mattie’s inner thigh, pulling her so so open, “and then everyone else is, too.” Mattie bites her lip to stop herself from whining. Oh, god, all of them. She’s so scared and turned on at the same time.

She teases the head of her cock along the outside of Mattie’s cunt. “Is this what you want?” she says. Mattie doesn’t say anything, but she shakes her head no, no, no. I don’t want this. It feels so wrong, so much, they’re being so mean…

She bends forward and slips the head of her cock inside Mattie. They both moan at the same time, Mattie arching off the ground, into the hands that hold her. She’s held down by the hair for the girl to fuck all the way into, all the way until it hurts, because even if she’s wet she’s not prepared and all she’s had is three fingers for ten seconds. And she’s just as big as the rest of her. She gives a satisfied groan as she bottoms out inside Mattie, and Mattie grits her teeth, clenching her hands in the dirt.

“Fuck,” someone says, “look at that shit. She’s so perfect.” There are more hands on her tits, in her hair, someone slipping their thumb into her mouth. Some of the other girls have their hands down their own pants. Mattie pants, her eyebrows knitting together as she gets fucked. It hurts. Fuck, she’s fucking big. She’s not being gentle. She likes Mattie’s tight cunt, likes her small and painful.

“That’s just one,” says someone with their hands in Mattie’s hair. “You have to keep the rest of us busy too, slut.” She pulls Mattie’s head back. The girl who has her thumb in Mattie’s mouth says something in agreement, sweeping her thumb over Mattie’s tongue, making her drool.

Mattie doesn’t want that, doesn’t know how she’s gonna handle all of that at once, but of course the choice isn’t up to her.

“Everyone’s gonna take their turn in your cunt,” she continues, and Mattie can’t hold back a whimper at that. I don’t want it, I don’t want it, I don’t want it. “And then we’re gonna have to see what else we can use to keep ourselves entertained, huh?”

“Are you gonna—” Mattie starts, and then cuts herself off with a moan of pain. “Gonna— gonna come in—”

“Ohh,” comes the growled reply, “yes, we are, baby, in that pretty fucking cunt. Yes, smart girl.”

“Oh,” Mattie says, and her head falls back, “oh, oh, no,” — of course they were, of course. The cock in her cunt feels like a weapon, a punishment, cruelty. And she’s still dripping down it.

“You’re gonna take it all, aren’t you, good girl,” she says — Mattie hates how nice she is, different from the rest but just as bad — and oh fuck there’s a warm tongue on one of her nipples, and then the other one is being pinched, hard, and they both feel so good. Mattie feels herself tighten around the cock inside her.

“Yes,” grunts the blonde girl, “play with her tits like that, she gets all tight when you do that.” So they do, and Mattie squirms and writhes under them, the feeling going straight to her clit, torturously good. She doesn’t want her to come, fuck, please don’t let her come, please not there. She knows she’s gonna.

“Slut,” the blonde girl says — they don’t know her name, Mattie remembers — “so fucking tight for me, hot little cunt, I’m gonna fill that shit up.”

“No,” Mattie says, as she holds her down and fucks her harder into the mud, “please don’t.”

“Shh,” fingers are pushed into the side of her mouth, “shut up and take it, sweetheart.” Mattie squirms and tries to protest through the fingers in her mouth, tries to buck her cunt away from her.

“Hold her down,” someone says, “someone make her shut the fuck up.”

Mattie yelps as the dark-skinned girl sits down hard on her stomach. It pushes the air right out of her lungs. It all aches with how deep she’s full. The girl gets three fingers in her mouth next to the other girl’s. The moans that are forced out around them are garbled so much it makes Mattie sound subhuman.

“That’s a pretty fucking hole,” the girl on top of her says. She shoves her fingers down Mattie’s tongue. Mattie coughs.

“Mmh,” says the other girl with her hand in Mattie’s mouth, “if we fuck her throat she won’t be able to talk, will you,” she says to Mattie, fucking her fingers into the back of Mattie’s mouth.

“Good girl,” someone says. “She just fucking takes that shit.”

Mattie whimpers when they take their fingers out of her mouth. She’s so nervous. They’re not being nice to her. They’re going to really hurt her.

The girl on top of her has her pants unbuttoned now and she’s smiling wickedly down at Mattie, stroking herself. Mattie presses her lips shut and turns her head away. She has to force herself not to make sounds at the blonde’s thrusts.

“Ohh,” someone says, “come back here, baby, she’s trying to get away.”

Someone’s hand in Mattie’s hair holds her head still. There are so many of them. Mattie is never going to be able to get away. There’s a thumb prying her mouth open, and when she clenches her teeth harder they pinch her nose shut so she can’t breathe.

She tries to hold out for as long as she can but she has to breathe. The girl is sitting all the way up on her chest, leaning forward over her face, pushing her dick up against her cheek. As soon as she opens her mouth to gasp for breath she shoves it inside, thick and choking. They let her breathe through her nose, thank god. The hands in her hair push her up on it and she chokes, not able to get it into her throat even a little. She’s not doing anything. She’s just lying there as they use her.

“There we go,” says the blonde. “That’s good. That’s a good slut.” She’s fucking Mattie faster and faster, more unsteadily.

“Fuck,” Mattie chokes out. She can barely understand herself when it comes out.

“Yes,” she hisses. “Just like that.” Her voice is so strained. She’s close. Mattie sobs.

When she finally crushes herself into Mattie, pinning her down hard as she comes, twitching into her, Mattie makes a broken little sound of pain.

“Don’t knot her cunt,” someone says. “I wanna fuck her when she’s tight.”

“That’s not how it works, idiot,” says someone else. Mattie is just confused. She doesn’t know what a knot is.

“She doesn’t even know what that means,” someone says. There’s a hand on her cunt where it’s spread out around the blonde girl’s cock. “She’s got a cute little virgin cunt.” Mattie has definitely been fucked before. She doesn’t understand what she’s talking about.

“Yeah,” hums the blonde, “I’m gonna break your little cunt open, okay, sweet thing?” And Mattie feels something big and hard and swelling inside her, just inside the opening of her cunt. She moans around the cock in her mouth.

“That’s gonna keep it all inside, baby,” says someone else, voice a contented hum. A different hand comes to stroke the outside of her cunt, her clit. She feels it twitch around the knot. Oh, god, she’s so wet. She’s scared of what it’s going to make them do to her, if they think she likes it. “Right where that shit belongs, huh? In this whore cunt.” She says it sweetly, reassuringly, condescendingly.

The girl who has her cock in Mattie’s mouth is fucking her face as well as she can with Mattie unresponsive and choking hard whenever she tries to go further. She pulls out and grabs Mattie’s face in her hands. She spits in Mattie’s mouth and it runs straight down her tongue, making her even messier.

“Suck my cock, slut,” she says. “Use your tongue. Or I’m gonna force it in your fucking throat, understand?”

“Yes,” Mattie gasps, spit running down her cheek, feeling so messy and used. She puts her tongue out over her teeth.

“That’s a good girl,” she says, and pulls Mattie’s head up to meet her. This hurts worse than Mattie’s cunt. She’s not being careful. She’s brushing up against Mattie’s gag reflex over and over.

The blonde girl isn’t moving inside her. She’s just holding Mattie still on her cock, making Mattie’s cunt ache with how full it is. Mattie wants it to be over. She knows that when she pulls out there’s gonna be come and slick seeping out of her, that her hole is gonna wink so open and so empty.

She’s not doing a very good job of pleasing the other girl, although she’s trying, trying to swirl her tongue around the tip and lick and suck. She has no idea what she’s doing and she’s overwhelmed and the girl is being so rough she can barely move anyways.

“Does she need a little more motivation?” one of the other girls asks, and then, not waiting for a reply, “You can breathe when you make her come,” pinching Mattie’s nose shut again.

Mattie chokes around the cock in her mouth, her throat full of her own spit, panicking. She really can’t breathe. She is trying so hard to comply, she doesn’t need to be threatened any more, oh god what if they really choke her until she blacks out. They might kill her. She thrashes against them, all of them holding her down without even trying. They grab her and hold her still, more of them holding her arms down, making her helpless.

The woman ruts into her mouth, using her like a ragdoll. If anything Mattie is worse at sucking her cock now, but she doesn’t seem to care. She just fucks into her hard and rough and growls in frustration when Mattie can’t take her deep. Salty precum drips from her and Mattie swallows it, left with no other choice. Her lungs are aching now. She needs them to let her breathe.

They must see her eyes go wide, feel her go limp, because they let go and she gasps, wheezing, everything full of sticky spit but so grateful to be breathing. She lays there and pants. The girl who was fucking her mouth is kneeling over her face, jerking herself off over Mattie’s open mouth. Mattie is smart enough to lay there and take it this time, even when she grunts and gasps and comes in bitter strands all over Mattie’s face. Mattie blinks it off her eyelids, lies there all painted and watches as the girl’s knot swells in her hand.

The blonde girl eases herself out of Mattie’s cunt. She plays with it with her hand for a second, rubbing circles over Mattie’s clit. Mattie gasps and bucks her hips into the hand before she knows what’s happening. She laughs and stops and smacks Mattie’s cunt with her flat hand. Mattie lets out an exhale that has a hint of a whine on it.

The girl on top of her demands her attention back. She shoves her knot against Mattie’s face, forcing it between her hand and Mattie’s cheek.

“Open up, slut,” she demands, pushing herself against Mattie’s lips. Mattie does. It makes her feel hot to obey before she’s forced. They’re teaching her.

She rubs her knot over Mattie’s tongue. Mattie takes it, tries her best to lick it in a way that feels good. She has to open her mouth wide to get her lips around it.

She feels hands on her hips again. Her head is back and she can’t sit up and see. The hands smooth over her thighs, and then press down on her stomach, just above the ridges of her hipbones.

She stays put and focuses on trying to please the girl, the hands on her body sending heat coursing through her. She takes her knot in her mouth, messy and clumsy, and laves over it desperately with her tongue, and there’s a surprised, “Ohh, there’s a good girl,” and then Mattie opens her mouth even more with a gasp because oh god she’s being filled again. The girl between her legs drives her cock into Mattie with one hard, deep stroke, and Mattie’s sore pussy is so open but it hurts it hurts she’s done she whimpers and bucks and tries to get away.

“We told you we were taking turns, sweetheart —” and a hand brushes a tear off Mattie’s cheek “—all of us, even if it hurts.” The girl between Mattie’s legs holds her down and fucks her slow and hard and deep. Mattie cries.

“Oh,” someone says, “here, we’ll help you like it, baby.” And then there’s a broad hand between her legs, on her clit, right where she’s hurting from being split open. She hates how it feels good, hates how it makes her chase it by pushing her hips up towards them. They all like it, of course, sounds of approval for her for being such a good, slutty little girl, more firm pressure on her clit.

Mattie is going to come. It’s been building for a long time, and now with the hand on her clit it’s inescapable. She moans softly and squirms, trying to get away from it, but of course they hold her down and hold her legs open and find her most sensitive little spot, and rub it over and over again. There are waves of different feelings that start in her cunt and wash over her, and it feels good and uncontrollable and uncomfortable and she moans and pants and twists in their arms. She’s getting so, so tight around the second girl’s cock. The girl groans and falls forward over her and fucks her harder.

When Mattie comes it’s a slow, rolling thing, and it overwhelms her. She moans open-mouthed again and again as the waves roll over her, her hands flexing in the grip of the werewolves (because that’s what they are, she knows, so big and strong, a pack), and the girl over her moans in her ear, she’s going to come too. Mattie’s cunt is still clenching rhythmically when she pulls out, last drops of cum falling over Mattie’s stomach, to knot her own fist. Mattie is so painfully empty and she knows there’s going to be another, all of them watching her and stroking themselves and waiting for their turn in her.

When the next one fucks her it hurts a little, her cunt throbbing and oversensitive. One of the other girls grazes her finger over Mattie’s asshole, and Mattie twists, terrified. The girl laughs.

“We all wanna try,” she says. “If we fucked all your holes you could take two at once, huh? Be a lot quicker.” She gives Mattie a vicious smile.

Mattie thinks about how much it would hurt to be stuffed airtight like that, two of them stretching her out and filling her to the brim, and she prays that she keeps them happy enough that they don’t.

One of the other girls is close, and she takes Mattie’s hair and pulls her mouth onto her.

“She have enough in her pussy?” someone asks. “To knock her up?”

“Oh, fuck,” Mattie slurs around the cock in her mouth. They laugh at that.

“Yes she does,” someone else says. “Look at that shit. She’s so fucked out.”

The girl fucking her mouth grunts something unintelligible. She pushes Mattie onto her hard when she comes, holds herself inside and forces Mattie to swallow. She does. She’s losing track of how many times she’s been used, how many people have come in her and on her and made her please them.

The rest of them have their turn, just like they said, and Mattie can’t do anything but lie there and take it and open her mouth for them when they make her. By the time they’re done she’s sore and exhausted.

“That’s a good whore,” says the last girl, as Mattie rolls her knot over her tongue. There are still hands on her, playing with her.

“Are—” Mattie mumbles, so tired, her words blurring together, “---are y’gonna let me go?”

“Maybe soon,” she says, lazily, satisfying herself with Mattie’s mouth.

When she finally finishes, she holds Mattie’s head down and sits up off her. Mattie looks up at her dumbly. Her brain is fucked out and she doesn’t know what’s going on anymore. So she barely reacts when the girl straddles Mattie’s face, when the other girls pin Mattie down. And then it hits her face, hot and filthy and wet wet wet, and she makes a surprised squeak and it runs into her mouth, burning and acrid on her tongue. She tries to spit, and the girl laughs at her, in a sort of hiccuping way that Mattie would find cute under normal circumstances, and stuffs herself in her mouth, making her swallow it.

“You know,” she sighs, clearly feeling good and pleased, “you know how we mark our territory. Take it like you took our cum, baby.”

Mattie can’t say anything. Her mouth is full and drowning and overflowing, piss and spit leaking out around the girl’s cock, Mattie choking and struggling and disgusted.

“That’s a good, good girl,” she says when she finally pulls out, her cock leaking onto Mattie’s face. Mattie’s head is still held still. She can’t turn over and spit it out. She can’t move at all.

Someone else slots herself between Mattie’s legs. Mattie knows, knows what she’s going to do, because of course she has to get marked by all of them, marked everywhere. She doesn’t expect it, though, when she forces the tip of herself soft inside Mattie. Oh god no not there, not inside, please not inside.

“Careful,” someone says, “that’s where she has all that seed.”

“Yeah,” she murmurs distractedly, “we’ll just have to fuck her again, then,” and she lets go inside Mattie’s cunt, sighing in relief. It fills her up and leaks out around her cock and runs over Mattie’s hole, mixing into the wet mud underneath them. She pulls herself out after a little while and paints Mattie’s stomach, and Mattie thinks this is maybe the dirtiest thing that’s ever been done to her, cum and piss dripping out of her pussy, buried deep inside her, all over her.

“Good girl,” she sighs, standing up off Mattie. Mattie doesn’t even know how to get up. She feels like she’s stuck sunk into the mud. Everything hurts.

“Now,” says one of the girls who’s less tired. “You wanna go home, don’t you?”

“Yes, please,” Mattie says, ever polite, and they all take her, “because that’s the gentlemanly thing to do, isn’t it?” one of them says, laughing. They won’t let Mattie go alone.

They drop her clothes on the floor of her entryway. The dark-haired girl grabs her face and kisses her on the mouth. She knows that before long, they’ll turn up waiting, maybe every day until they really get her pregnant, and there will be nothing she will ever be able to do about it again.

[ciccerone]

[riotsgrl]

★ ROUND 1! | bakugou, k.

pairing: katsuki bakugou x reader

summary: a sparring session with kirishima gets a little out of hand, and being the only medic able to deal with katsuki bakugou, you’re left with the aftermath.

content: fluff + SMUT - mdni ! boxer!bkg + medic!reader. kiri feature! blood & injury. feelings!!! tension. lots of banter. clear consent. semi-public. making out. thigh riding. slight marking / hickeys. fondling. titty sucking. fingerfucking. cum eating. bkg does not get off but he is fine w that. there is a quite a bit of build up before the smut lol. wc: 5.2k.

note: #needthat

masterlist. | header art credit: @ ami_ranthao on tiktok !

In the ring, he came alive. An absolute powerhouse, brute force and flawless technique bleeding together to create Katsuki Bakugou, one of the best up and coming boxers of your time. Everyone was a little enamored— a perfect face paired with such a vulgar tongue, an ego backed with the skill to match.

His win-or-nothing attitude led him to the top, but also caused complications with his medical staff. A few too many outbursts had scared them into backing down, allowing him to keep pushing despite his injuries.

 Until you were hired a few months ago.

The first day you were assigned to him, the other medics had either snickered or grimaced, having each had their own share of bad luck with him. It seemed to be some rite of passage among them. When you met him, you understood exactly what the others had meant. There was enough fire behind that stare to send anyone skittering away.

But, to their surprise, you had returned back in one piece, with a perfectly bandaged Katsuki trailing behind you; glowering with something like an irritated smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, but tended to.

You were the only medic that could handle him.

Which is why you were spending your Saturday evening with your knees drawn to your chest on a bench at the edge of the boxing gym as he sparred with his close friend, and fellow boxer, Eijirou Kirishima.

The sound of their collective panting filled the air, the thud of fists against skin echoing off the walls as they tested each other.

Quick jabs, hits to the ribs; it was push and pull as they were nearly on equal ground, two decorated professionals with national titles.

You had to keep a close eye— track his movements to take note of any injuries, run over how exactly you would deal with each one. It was your job to.

But, admittedly, you found your gaze wandering against your will lately. More often than you wanted to admit.

It was difficult to ignore the way his biceps flexed with each jab, how soft blond tufts fell over his face, stuck to the sweat lining his forehead, the low hang of his boxing shorts highlighted his abs straining with each motion.

"Fuck!"

The sharp curse broke your trance, eyes snapping up, immediately alert.

Eijirou's hands flew over his mouth, his fighter's stance softening, hesitant hands reaching out towards his friend whose head was angled down, fighting to not reel.

"Woah, man, I am so sorry—"

Katsuki slapped his hand away, wiping at the blood beginning to drip down his nose with the back of his hand, unyielding eyes meeting Eijirou's.

"Keep it goin', Shitty Hair. And you,"

He didn't bother to look at you as you approached, keeping his burning stare on his opponent while waving you off with a harsh motion of his free hand. "Get back."

His bite was nothing new. You didn't bother to fight the eye roll, stepping closer to assess the extent of the damage. "Don't be dumb. Let me look."

"You deaf or something? Beat it."

More blood trickled down, coming over the curve of his lip. You had worked with Katsuki long enough to know that he pushed himself until he was battered, had nothing left to give.

Your job was to keep that from happening.

With a sigh, you grabbed him by the crook of his elbow.

"You are gushing blood. Come on—"

"Get your fuckin' hands off me, you piece of—"

"Again, don't be dumb—"

Eijirou blinked between the two of you, watching as you wrestled to keep Katsuki's arm in your grip, ineffectively attempting to drag him away. With a smile that didn't quite meet his eyes, he began to take backwards steps towards the bench where he kept his water, knowing there was little else he could do in this situation.

"I'm gonna take five. Go with her, man."

Feeling Katsuki's resistance give in just enough, you tugged him towards the med bay, giving Eijirou a grateful look over your shoulder. You hoped he didn't feel too guilty. Sparring was never supposed to get this intense, after all. But, mistakes happened.

You offered soft apologies under your breath to the few nurses on the same late shift as you were with a tight smile as you rushed past them to guide him into the room at the very back, shutting the door behind you.

It was just you two now.

Katsuki was still panting, worked up from the fight. There was probably enough adrenaline in his system to keep him from feeling the real pain of his affliction.

You pushed him back onto the bed against the wall to your right with a hand over his chest, feeling the warm muscle rise up and down under your palm before you turned to rummage through the cabinet, fishing out a medical kit with a crease forming between your brows.

"Are you trying to get yourself put on medical leave before your match next week?"

He didn't say a word, only the sound of his heavy breathing filling the room as you felt his glare against your back.

You sighed.

"Right before I get off too..."

"Yeah," He scoffed, a mocking edge to his voice. "'Cause I did that shit on purpose."

"You kept pushing. That was stupid and you know it, the best athletes know when to call it quits."

Katsuki scoffed, his jutted lower lip pursing as you set down the kit beside him, opening it up to fish out some gauze. "Maybe we should get you in the ring. Since you're such an expert."

You pushed his thighs apart with an unimpressed look, standing between them to get as close as you could.

A hand went behind his neck, gently tilting his head down so the blood wouldn't trickle back into his nose, go down his throat.

You carefully pinched the sides of his nose bridge to stop the blood flow, wiping away at what had escaped with clean gauze.

“You love making my life harder,” you muttered under your breath. “Can’t you just admit I'm right? Say you’ll be more careful?”

“The day I say that shit you can put a gun to my head.”

You rolled your eyes, but he continued.

"I don't say shit I don't mean," he sighed out, abs flexing as he winced slightly. “If your meddling ass didn't get in the way, I would've won.”

“Or you would've gotten your ass beat, but whatever.”

“I've had worse. A fucked up nose is nothing."

"Is that supposed to be a good thing?" you raised a brow, getting a new piece of gauze. "You never know when to stop, Katsuki. That's your issue."

The room settled into silence only the hum of the AC, your shifting, and the quiet, reluctant winces that slipped past as you tended to him.

His eyes never left you.

Sometimes, you wondered why.

Why he allowed you to treat him, why he let you get close. But you shook yourself out of those thoughts, reaching down to grab an ice pack. No time to get sidetracked, not now. Especially on something that was very likely nothing.

"Bleeding stopped."

He didn't respond, eyes downcast as you alternated between pressing it to either side of his nose bridge.

When he finally spoke, his words were quick. Quiet.

"I was going for his blind spot."

Said like he had to explain himself to you, or maybe himself.

But he didn't have to. You knew that his slip ups were extremely rare, he never made the same mistake twice— he beat himself up over every error, obsessed over earned perfection, victory.

His high standards for himself were what got him so far, but you knew they got to him. That, quietly, he sometimes needed reassurance, like anyone would.

“I know you were.” you finally responded, voice gentle, without pity.

"Eijirou's right side was open and he was getting tired. That was the right move. You would've gotten him."

He blinked down at you, as if assessing your honesty before a slight smile touched his lips. He gripped the edge of the small bed a little tighter, leaning down closer.

"Knew you were starin'."

Your heart jumped in your chest, but you pushed it down.

"Well, that is my job."

"It's your job to watch for injuries. Not stare."

You couldn't help what came out of your mouth next.

"Maybe I was staring at Eijirou."

"You think you're so funny."

"I think your ego's inflated."

"Wanna say that again?"

You pressed the ice a little too harshly into the side of his nose, drawing a small groan from him.

"Save it, Katsuki."

You packed up your kit and gathered the bloodied gauze to throw away, rinsing your hands before coming back to assess your work.

Blood clean, no signs of continued bleeding. A small bruise forming under his right eye from the trauma, expected.

It took everything in you to ignore the weight of his eyes, how he looked at you with an intensity reserved for his opponents in the ring. Calculating, searching. You could feel the burn crawling up the back of your neck. Professional, keep it professional.

You nodded a little too quickly, turning on your heel. "Yep, all good. No more sparring, but you can go back now."

He tugged you by the back of your shirt collar before you got too far, pulling you back between his legs, face only inches away from yours.

"You don't want that."

The sudden proximity along with his words made your heart spike, as if caught.

What did you want? The question made you uneasy.

(Or, maybe it was the answer that you knew deep down that made you want to crawl out of your skin.)

You pushed back slightly, deflecting.

“I want you to see Dr. Tanaka as soon as you can. I'll make an appointment for tomorrow morning since he left for the day. I think your nose is broken.”

“No it's not.”

It wasn't. If it had been broken, you would've known from one look, you would have been angrier with him. But that was your out, your excuse to get away. And he had called your bluff, gaze unmoving.

"Don't play dumb right now."

“I'm not playing dumb." the words came snappy, brave; but you were just so close, that fire faltered. His hand that had gripped the back of your collar had shifted carefully to the front, so close to your neck that you were afraid he might feel your heart try to burst out of your throat.

"You're just…" you trailed off, struggling to find your words. "…difficult. You're being difficult.”

"Difficult?" a dry sort of laugh. "You're the difficult one. For someone smart you can be pretty fuckin' dense."

You bit the inside of your lower lip, eyes darting between him and the door.

You knew what he meant. This back and forth between you was nothing new. But when it got too real you had always gotten away, said something and acted like nothing had happened once you cooled down.

The sounds outside seemed to be getting louder, closer. These doors didn’t have locks. Anyone could come in, find you like this. One of the nurses checking in, a gym goer looking for band-aids.

“Or maybe you do know. Hm?”

The question pulled you from your thoughts in an instant, made your eyes snap to his— first mistake. Once his crimson stare bored into yours, you couldn’t look away.

Could you have been that obvious? You thought your moments of distraction were fleeting, imperceptible to the average eye.

He had never commented on it before, slipping back to his normal self even after your closest calls.

But you should’ve known better. Katsuki Bakugou was not average in any sense of the word.

(Of course, he noticed. Of course he did.)

You sputtered something before you could think, just wanting to hear something other than the sound of your own thoughts.

"Some…someone could—"

"No one's gonna come in." his voice flat, dismissal easy. All matter of fact as he craned his neck down closer to you.

"Unless you want Eijirou to come in. Since you were, what, staring at him, right? That what you want?"

"What?!" the word was almost a squeak, high and taken aback. "That's not— "

You fought the strange heat crawling up your face by shooting him a look, eyes narrowing.

"Katsuki. I was joking."

He hummed.

(Unbelieving? Amused? A bit of both?)

"Sure you were."

You opened your mouth, then closed it. The deflections that had once come so easy were heavy on your tongue. There was no joke, no eye roll, nothing you could say to slip away. Not this time.

You sighed, next words defeated.

"What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to be real with me." you could feel his breath against your lips; hot, charged. "Tell me you don’t want this, that you haven't thought about it.”

“Katsuki…”

It came out weaker than you wanted. Small, kind of breathless. Almost pleading.

For what— to let you go?

(To keep going?)

He kept egging, eyes not once leaving yours. “Say it. I'll stop.”

And you knew he would. Because he was being serious, you could tell by his voice— how it was low under his breath, softened. 

For you, he was being intentionally careful.

Just the thought made you want to cave. But the entire reason your relationship worked, why you were able to handle him, was because you didn't give in.

"There are rules about this sort of thing—"

"You think I give a fuck about bullshit rules?"

"Yeah, I know you don't." you gave him a look. "But I do. I could lose my job, you could get me fired, or…"

You swallowed back the rest of it.

He didn't have to know how it made you afraid, testing the fragile nature of this relationship. How giving in meant that all of this could shatter, that this could all amount to one big mistake.

Katsuki blinked, taking in your expression. He looked off to the side for a beat, lips pursing in thought before, carefully, he took your hands into his.

"You know I won't let that happen. I don't see any of the other shitty medics here."

You snorted a little. Because you did know. You cocked your head to the side, a small smile tugging at your lips. "They're not shitty."

He didn't retaliate, just raised his brows slowly. The truth of his words wasn't what mattered, it was the implication behind them.

(You're the one I see. You.)

His earlier words rang in your ears.

Tell me you don't want this, that you haven't thought about it.

You couldn't, because you had.

Countless times— whenever you watched him hover over his opponents, keep them locked underneath him, the heat in his eyes, a cocky smile on his lips.

He wormed his way into your mind, more often than not, late at night. When sleep couldn't find you and your bed felt exceptionally cold. Empty.

(Him. You imagined him.)

Denying all of that was exactly what you should have done. That would have been the rational thing to do, the smart thing.

But as you traced his face, followed the soft curve of his cheeks against the otherwise harsh lines, watched the furrow of his brow deepen ever so slightly, as if he, of all people, was nervous— you couldn't fight the feeling anymore.

Because you wanted to kiss him, and you wanted him to kiss you— more than anything.

Hesitantly, you brushed your thumbs over the bruises on his knuckles.

“No, I… I do. Want this, I mean."

Something in his expression shifted. Surprise, for a brief second, before that cocky gleam in his eyes that you had seen when he was in-action settled over his face. Only, a little different. (A little sharper, hungrier.)

"Yeah?" he pushed closer, nose just barely brushing yours. "You want this?"

Slowly, you nodded.

"Yes."

His gaze darted from your eyes and lips before the sliver of space between you finally disappeared.

The kiss was tentative, careful. So unlike him that it caught you a little off guard.

Soft. His lips were so soft against yours.

He kissed you like he was trying to figure out the shape of your lips, go slow enough to savor the moment, commit the feeling to memory. The hand near your collar came up to cup your jaw, angle your face just right.

You had thought about what this would feel like for longer than you would ever admit. Did he think of you the same way? Were you what he had expected?

When he pulled back just enough to breathe, he drank in your expression; your pretty lips plush and parted, wide doe-eyes blinking up at him.

He groaned, "Fuck it."

You yelped when calloused hands gripped your arms, hoisted you up like you weighed nothing, thick biceps flexing as he pulled you down to straddle his thigh.

You planted your hands on his chest to steady yourself on instinct, unable to process it for a second. Your thighs were around his leg, his hands at your waist, holding you in a way you had only ever thought would exist in the secret fantasies you let yourself indulge in. The small bed creaking under your combined weight. His chest rising and falling under your palms.

Sometimes, you forgot how strong he actually was. How he wasn’t just some other annoying, short-tempered guy— his body was molded to his profession; brute strength and jagged lines carved from a life in the ring. His shoulders broad, a tapering waist, arms nearly the size of your head. He could probably pick you up and snap you in half if he really wanted to. Your stomach flipped at just the thought.

Before you could open your mouth to speak, he flexed the muscle of his thigh; deliberate, testing. Sharp eyes watching as your face flushed at his bare muscle pressing up against your core.

Your breath hitched, warmth pooled down between your legs, heart beating in your ears as his large hands slid down to rest over your hips, holding you steady— pulling you down closer.

"Feel good?"

Your ears burned at the mocking edge to his voice. You squirmed, caught between wanting to slap that smug look off his face and slowly seek more friction by grinding down.

You didn't have to choose, not when his hands slowly guided your hips down, back and forth against his hardened muscle. You bit your bottom lip between your teeth, clearly embarrassed, ineffectively fighting the whimpers that threatened to slip past with each movement.

His gaze never once left you, taking note of every little reaction.

Heat crawled up your face at being watched so shamelessly.

Leaning forward, you distracted yourself by pressing soft kisses up the side of his throat, staring to grind down on him yourself, your tongue darting out before gently sucking soft marks into his skin.

He let out a strained sigh, tilting his neck back just enough to give you more access.

You hooked your arms loosely around his neck, pecking across his jaw. Your fingers curled into the hair at his nape, giving it a soft tug, pulling his head back so his eyes met yours.

Pupils blown, eyes heavy with want, hair falling over them all messy and disheveled.

You didn't know how you had gone so long without this, how you could have ever wanted to keep your distance. Now that you let yourself have a taste, you didn't think you could ever get enough.

Tugging him to you by the hair, you pulled him to kiss you again.

This time, it was feverish, insatiable. Months of tension and denied desire pouring over all at once.

He kissed like he was still chasing you; like he had something to prove, like he wanted you to feel that you were his favorite taste. A clash of tongue and teeth, nipping at your bottom lip. Each time he pulled back to breathe it lasted less than a beat before he rushed back to steal the soft sounds that slipped past your lips as your hips continued to buck against his thigh.

But the fabric, it was in the way. No matter how hard you grinded down on him, there was too much between you and what you wanted, and the frustration was showing. Your slight sighs turning into small huffs, brows pinching against your will.

The next time Katsuki pulled back, you didn't let him kiss you again. The small string of saliva between your lips broke as you spoke, softly panting. "I want 'em off."

He looked down at your request, pinching the fabric of your pants between his index and thumb. Eyes looking up into yours carefully, like he was uncertain if that was something you really wanted.

You nodded, a little frantic.

"Off. Please."

He got straight to it. Getting them off wasn't pretty, but a controlled sort of desperate.

His movements were precise as always, fairly smooth, but you could feel that something was simmering under his palms as he moved you around to get them off just right, even more so when they finally rested over your bare legs, eyes slightly dazed as he gave the flesh a tentative squeeze.

You bit your lip at the feeling, skin burning under his touch, wanting it all over you.

You glanced down at your shirt.

"This too."

He scoffed, but there was something like a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "Fuckin' bossy."

His hands slid under the hem, bunching the fabric up over your chest, too impatient to get it all the way off. He reached back to unclasp your bra, letting it fall to the floor as he took in the shape of your bare chest, the way your nipples hardened at the cool air of the clinic.

For a beat too long, he just stared.

On instinct, you wondered if something was wrong, if there was something about you that was weird or unappealing, the feeling twisted in you. But before you could tug your shirt back down, he cupped your tits with both hands, feeling the weight of them, squeezing slightly.

"Been waiting for this shit for so fuckin' long, y'know that?" He groaned out, leaning forward to bury his face into them.

You whimpered as he pressed wet kisses across the skin, thumb brushing over one of your nipples while his tongue lolled out to lick over the other, sucking it between his lips.

You began grinding down on his thigh again, the feeling so much more intense with just your panties on. You shifted your hips to find the angle that felt best, rubbing yourself down against the hard muscle of his thigh beneath you, solid and perfect, the friction sending sparks up your spine, your breaths coming out in shallow pants.

Each roll of your hips made your breath come a little faster, especially as his mouth pulled off one of your tits to give the other a fair share of attention.

Your nails dug into his shoulders when he nipped at your chest, sucking harshly, catching your sensitive peak between his teeth just to hear you whine. His tongue was hot against your skin, wet and needy.

Katsuki could feel your arousal starting to coat his thigh, soaking through your panties, smearing over his leg with every drag of your hips. Smiling against your chest, he pulled back with a soft pop, looking down at the glistening mess you left behind.

He moved a hand down between your bodies, slightly nudging your hips up with his leg to give him enough space in between to feel you over your panties, the fabric evidently damp as his index and middle finger stopped right above your clothed clit, pressing against it just slightly, enough to pull a shaky sigh from your lips.

"All this from just my thigh?"

There was a smug, slightly demeaning tone to his voice, like he was surprised you were so wet, as if it wasn't his fault. It made you want to throttle him. Or kiss him. Or both.

Your brows furrowed. "Shut up."

He only chuckled, drawing a line down your clothed slit. All slow, agonizing. Self-satisfied at the soft whimper that slips out of you.

"It's a simple fucking question. Haven't even touched you properly yet."

You huffed, mustering your most serious expression to meet his eyes. "God, just quit teasing, Katsuki. You're being mean."

He raised his brows, that smile on his face only widening. "You think this is mean?"

Finally, finally, he hooked his fingers into your panties, pushing them aside. The first touch, skin-on-skin, made you gasp. He dragged his fingers between your folds, coating them in your slick, slow and deliberate, before circling your entrance.

"I can show you mean."

His eyes were locked between your legs, watching his own fingers move. "Look at you," he murmured, almost to himself. “Fucking soaked."

He pushed one finger inside, slow enough that you felt every inch. You whimpered softly, walls fluttering around him.

He groaned softly, watching your face contort, feeling himself get even harder in his shorts.

"Tight," he breathed. "Gonna add another. That okay?"

You nodded frantically, beyond words.

The second finger stretched you more, made you bite down on your lip to keep from moaning too loud. He worked them deeper, curling them slightly. Your chest heaved at the intrusion you fought to not cry out, your nails digging into his shoulder as he hit just the right spot.

"There?" His voice was rough, satisfied. "That the spot?"

You couldn't respond, forehead falling into the crook of his neck, clinging to him as he curled his fingers again, rubbing that soft patch inside you with devastating precision.

Once he found it, he didn't stop, pumping his fingers in and out, hitting it with precision each time.

You grinded down into his hand, feeling the heel of his palm press up against your clit. You chase the feeling, shameless. Lost in the sensation, the overwhelming feeling of him all around you.

You mumbled into the skin of his neck incoherently about how you were: "Almost… 'm gonna…"

You could hear his voice right by your ear. Hoarse, determined.

“Yeah?” his efforts nearly doubled. “Close?”

You could only nod, coherent thoughts gone from your mind, only a desperate haze of want.

"Yeah. Yes. Please, please more…"

He kept at it, silently savoring your desperate sounds.

You wrapped your arms tight around his neck, moans muffled into his skin as the tightly wound up knot came undone. Your breaths getting heavy in your lungs, head getting fuzzy, eyes fluttering shut, nails having left angry red lines down the skin of his upper back.

He ran a hand up and down your back as you collapsed against him, coming down from the high. He let you rest against him, breathing from a moment before pulling you back with a small kiss to the side of your head.

"Look at me."

It didn't sound like a request.

"Hm?"

You watched with hazy eyes as he slowly pulled his fingers out of you, the loss making you whimper. They glistened under the harsh light of the clinic, coated with the evidence of what he'd just done to you.

He held your gaze as he brought them to his mouth. His tongue darted out first, licking a long strip up the slick-covered fingers. Then, he took them fully into his mouth, sucking them clean, eyes never once leaving yours.

Your breath caught in your throat. Heat flooded through you again, despite having just come. Tasting you off his own fingers like you were the best thing he'd ever had— it was almost too much.

When he finally pulled his fingers from his mouth with a soft pop, he smirked at your expression.

"Tastes good," he said simply, like commenting on the weather.

You clenched around nothing, already missing him inside you, feeling spent but somehow needing more.

"You're shameless."

"Last I checked, I wasn't the one humping your thigh."

Your face burned, a small, angry sort of pout settling on your lips.

He snickered, hand sliding up to your waist, giving it a small squeeze. "Little too late to get all embarrassed. Shit was hot."

"Uh huh…" You gave him a look, "Um. Thanks, by the way... that was—" You trailed off, not knowing how to express what you feel just the right way. "Good. It was good."

Katsuki snorted. "Just good?" you rolled your eyes, but leaned into his teasing with sweetness, something he didn't quite expect.

"Much better than good."

He searched your eyes for a beat, a hand coming up to brush back some of your hair. Then he pecked your lips— soft, almost sweet — before tugging your shirt back down carefully.

That was when you slowly realized, he was wrapping this up. But… he didn't cum?

He didn't cum.

"Hey, wait you didn't—"

He knew what you were talking about, the strained bulge in his shorts was nothing short of obvious.

"Does it look like I care."

His dismissal of his own need threw you off.

"Katsuki, that's not fair. I can't just—"

"Sure you can. You just did."

You turned his head towards you, pulling him into a soft kiss, parting his lips with yours, trying to not get lost in tasting yourself on his tongue. Gently trying to urge him to let you have him the way he had you.

You try to convince him, urge him to let you return the favor, do something.

You ran your hand over the bulge in his shorts, traced it gently, wanting. He groaned against your mouth, the sound strained in the back of his throat, like he was holding himself back. "C'mon, Katsuki," you palmed him over his shorts, wanting to hear more. "Let me? Please?"

He looked like he could give in, his jaw tense, eyes screwing shut as your finger hooked into the waistband of his shorts, drawing out a breathy sigh. You froze when the intercom crackled above you.

"The gym will be closing in ten minutes. Please begin wrapping up your sessions and make your way to the exit. Thank you."

You blinked. Fuck.

"…I can be quick?"

That was a lie. Ten minutes wasn't nearly enough time to do what you wanted to.

He waved you off with a snort, tugging your hand away from his throbbing cock, taking it upon himself to adjust the hem of your shirt with more care than you thought possible from someone like him.

"Relax." He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. "Shit’s not a big deal. Can take care of it in the shower."

The mental image of him standing under the shower, hand wrapped around his cock, thinking about this — you — made something low in your stomach tighten.

You must have made a face, because he huffed out a laugh.

"But if you want to make it up so bad," He leaned in closer, nose brushing yours. The soft curve of his lashes was so much more apparent this close. He pressed a final, lingering kiss, grinning softly as he spoke. His voice low against your lips, promising. "We'll go for round 2."

may blabs: baby's first smut dont throw tomatoes at me.. ok

btw if u ever genuinely have a bloody nose do NOT tilt your head back. that blood will go down your throat and if it gets into ur stomach u could throw up and that is not good so do NOT do that ✌️✌️

big special thank u to the mutuals ( @updownandbatty & @cupidkats & @hushedlotus ) AND irls i bothered w this fic… u are goated ❤️‍🩹

again, art in the header is not mine, credits to the artist !!!

taglist: @nanakamii 𓂃˖ ࣪⊹ :

masterlist ★ taglist form ★ want to send in a request?

[faekiss]

i keep coming back to this

[dxckgrxsonx]

saw the post u rbed and god if u gave jason a messy bj he’d be groaning and moaning so loud and calling u a good girl for taking his cock so well and he’d caress ur cheek and pull ur hair gently and he’d curse when u lick at his balls and gasp and his thighs and tummy would be shaking,,,, and if u gave dick a messy bj he’d be so mean and make u choke on his cock and call u pathetic and ask u if u can really take his cock but his knuckles would be white from how hard he’s clenching his fists trying to keep his cocky composure and not just start whining like a bitch bc u keep doing that one thing w ur tongue that makes white cloud his vision thank u for coming to my ted talk

the noise I just fucking made was inhuman 😩😩

the mental image of Jason Todd—whose arm is probably bigger than my whole goddamn head—shaking and trembling because you’ve got your mouth on him and you’re making a mess?? devastating. especially his tummy. oh I’m so glad you mentioned his tummy!! all that soft, firm muscle flexing and twitching under your palms. him moaning and trying to thrust into your mouth, cock leaking desperately all over your tongue. you absolutely drooling everywhere, spit escaping from the corners of your mouth to roll down his balls. him giving you so much praise the whole time, telling you how good you are and how much he adores having your mouth wrapped warm and wet around his cock. pressing his palm to your cheek and running his thumb across the seam of your lips stretched wide around him.

and Dick?? Oh my goodddddd I’m a little obsessed with him😵‍💫

him making you choke on his cock, pushing you down until you gag and can’t help but drool around the base, spit rubbing against his navel and getting your whole lower face wet and sticky. him pulling back just enough for you to breathe and mocking you, calling you pathetic for not being able to take him all at once, asking if you’re even trying, if you’re even able to take his cock. him sighing like he’s disappointed before guiding you back down until his soft tip hits the back of your throat. doing all of this while feeling like he’s bursting out of his own skin, fingers shaking and chest heaving. you suck a little harder than normal and manage to swirl your tongue around the sensitive head of his cock and he just collapses in on himself, whining and whimpering and shuddering out your name. he tries to say something smart and cocky but the only thing he manages is a broken whine and you’re barely able to manage a smirk with a mouthful of his cock.

[anothertimdrakestan]

y/n: tell jason i'll speak to him when he fucking apologizes

tim: cmon guys don't do this

jason: timothy, tell y/n i'll make her talk to me even if it's just her screaming my name. call that a fucking apology

tim: you guys are really doing this over who likes who more???

[anothertimdrakestan]

Hello wonderful person :)

Your headcanons are absolutely amazing and they have gotten me through many a bad day. I really appreciate the ones where the reader had anxiety. On a related note, would you be okay with writing batboys headcanons with a s/o that has depression? Because I’d really love to see that if you’re comfortable with it.

I hope you’re having a wonderful day and I just want you to know you are loved and valued.

-🖤-

Having Depression And Dating The Batboys HC!

hi! i just wanted to say you're so loved and it always makes my day when i see the lil 🖤 in my inbox :) i'm working on your other stuff too but wanted to get this out asap! hope you enjoy

dick grayson:

- dick would always be there, in any way he could

- he'd have a comm linked straight to you, make sure he's the first person you see in the morning, the last person you see before sleep, and the person you can reach at any time

- i imagine laying on the floor like a starfish next to dick, staring at the bumps in the ceiling just talking about everything, learning more about him and his past while you get to look inwards on yourself

- when you feel stuck in bed you have the most adorable goofball dancing around in socks singing his heart out for you - earning a smile you didn't know you had in you until he was there

- it would also be encouragement for the days when you were scared, a strong hand around your waist letting you know you could never fall with him by your side

- i can only imagine this mans reaction to you forgetting to eat, it would be a cereal fiesta or if he's really feeling chef-like a poorly scrambled egg, though these are usually just snacks to tie you over until the food he's ordered arrives

- watching him tip the delivery man 100$ while you die laughing then curling up with your favorite food while watching timeless movies, dick makes life vibrant, and though you may not believe it yet, he's always telling you how special you are to him, how irreplaceable your love is, and how he's determined to give you the best life he can by your side

damian wayne:

- damian would get you a puppy, or kitten, or some creature to love and nurture with him

- on good days you two would go on long walks, hands clasped together as damian tries to point out all the business names he thinks are dumb while you try not to die of laughter at his disdain for puns

- on bad days you'd curl up with your pet, knowing you have both a partner and furry child that love you more than anything else in the world and are so looking forward to tomorrow with you

- he'd adore quiet nights listening to new music and may even let you run your fingers through his hair if you promise not to tell his brothers he's soft for your touch

- he'd also be very protective, never forgiving those who hurt you and constantly trying to shield you from the more negative sides of his lifestyle; though you may fight about it occasionally ultimately his never ending support and care would become a pillar of strength for you :)

jason todd

- i think jason would struggle at first, confused and angry at how someone so perfect could still feel exhausted, even worthless. how could the light of his life not see themselves shining??

- ultimately he'd push to understand you, to ask what made you feel good and what made you feel worse - and it would only make him a better partner

- jason would put an emphasis on physical affection, trying to validate your feelings while being a comfortable and caring source of love

- when the world feels like it's crashing down on you, there's a pair of arms to hold you close and ground you

- the two of you would get in the habit of self care nights, you'd show jason the magic of face masks and bubble baths, having the time of your life bundled in one of his hoodies as he attempts to paint your nails

- with your hand clasped in his he'd pull you around the world, showing you the the joy in life - they're never a dry moment with jason todd and all he ever wants to do is put a smile on your gorgeous face

tim drake:

- tim would have a lot of empathy for you, truly listening and trying to always be the best he can for you

- he would get so good at reading you, one glance and he knows whether to help you leave or make you laugh, whether you need affection or space, and you'd be so thankful for his continuous understanding

- he'd invite you everywhere, knowing it breaks your heart when people just assume you don't wanna go

- it would get to the point when you have to tell him he doesn't have to invite you to the damn mailbox XD

- tim would feel really bad leaving you, eventually you'd have your own room in every building he stayed in, he gets super attached and would want you consistently at his side no matter where he is in the world

- forever each other's support systems, you and tim would keep each other happy, finding balance in your relationship that would be mutually beneficial, showing each other the best and brightest parts of life, and love

~

[anothertimdrakestan]

Falling Asleep With The Batboys HC

Dick Grayson:

- think of dick grayson as a y/n sleep trap machine

- this man always comes to bed after you and literally dives on to you, throwing an arm across your body while he pulls a pillow under his head

- he likes to sleep on his stomach with one arm securing a pillow under his head and the other dead bolted over you, locking you in his embrace

- dick will usually pull you closer in to him, leaning in to give you a soft kiss and a big grin before telling you goodnight

- your body literally had to learn to not get up at night because once his arm is draped over you and has successfully latched you on to him there is no getting up- but you've learned to love the comfort of always feeling warm and loved and protected when you drift to sleep :)

Jason Todd

- jason adores drifting to sleep with you resting on top of his chest

- usually you'll be hooked under his arm while he sleeps on his back, with your head either resting on his chest or burried in his neck

- you don't remember what actual pillows feel like you just know jason todd = beefy pillow

- he wears one of those anti-snore nose strips at night and possibly an eye mask i just know it in my soul

- he always falls asleep before you and you've grown accustomed to using his light snores as white noise to lull you to sleep as well

- somewhere in the middle of the night his body either decided it's too hot and de-attaches itself from you while he rolls on to his side OR it decides he's too cold and you wake up smooshed into his chest while he breathes down your neck and squishes you for warmth retention

- overall, every night with jason is filled with warm snuggly love because he's a softie especially when he's tired and with his favorite person ever :)

Tim Drake

- once tim learned that you like getting to fall asleep next to someone he began to put extra effort into trying to always be waiting for you in bed with this laptop so you could snuggle up to him as you drift off

- he learned to love nights with you, one hand searching for reports and flying over the keyboard while the other mindlessly runs through your hair while you rest at his side

- the sound of typing on a keyboard and possibly some light music/humming from tim is a perfect recipe to make you drift to sleep, combine that with him occasionally pressing a kiss to your forehead and rubbing your shoulders and you're out like a light

- sometimes tim will put down the work and catch a few hours of rest with you, letting you instinctively pull him into your embrace as he slides down into bed next to you, loving the way you let him hold you and just living in the moment with you tickling his neck with your breath

- he does this more than he'll admit, the feeling of being wrapped in your arms while keeping you serene and safe definitely grows on him quickly, plus he's convinced you always sleep better when he's with you- not like you're complaining :)

Damian Wayne

- a while into the relationship damian began slowly spending his nights with you, drifting into your bedroom under the light of the moon after patrol

- you got pretty used to falling asleep alone, usually wrapped in one of his old sweatshirts for comfort, but it was worth it because you got to wake up next to him every morning

- the nights you've stayed up to watch him you learned he has a particular schedule, check your doors and windows are locked, take off suit and get ready to sleep, check phone in case of emergency, and creep into bed with you

- not much of a cuddler when he's sleeping, damian will slip into bed, check that your in peaceful slumber (or faking it really well) kiss your forehead or neck, then lower himself into the comfort of your bed

- with his shoulder flush against yours or your back, his arm will slip under the gap between your neck and the pillow, letting you rest some of the weight of your head on him, keeping him grounded while he sleeps knowing you're safe right next to him

- if you get up for any reason he's up, feeling you lift yourself off his arm setting off his "y/n is unsafe" alarm as he cracks an eye open to confirm you're perfectly fine before letting sleep lull him back in, just happy to know it's him you'll wake up to

[eulasgirlfriend]

Unhealthy obsessions