Bakutodo🍒

📜 w r i t e r . ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✒️ pouring late-night thoughts into mha fics ⚡️ Call me[]─── ⋆⭐︎Liles ↳ mha fic writer | todobaku & bakutodo enthusiast ❝ if you're going to win, win beautifully. ❞ ships: todobaku // bakutodo (i swing both ways on this, frankly…

[miss-todobaku]

What happens in private is supposed to stay private. Izuku thought he was being careful with the videos of him and his secret girlfriend. He was wrong. One accidental click from a friend, and the secret is officially out.

To the rest of the world, and especially to his friends from his U.A. days, Pro Hero Deku was an open book. Izuku Midoriya was the earnest, hardworking, painfully polite Number One Hero who still got flustered when people complimented him too much. His friends assumed he was entirely focused on his career, too busy saving the world to even think about dating.

They had absolutely no idea you existed.

For two years, you had been Izuku’s best-kept secret. It wasn't that he was ashamed of you—he was fiercely protective. With his status, any public relationship would put a massive target on your back. But keeping you hidden also gave him something else: a private world where he didn't have to be the world's savior. With you, he could just be a man. A very possessive, intensely passionate man that his friends wouldn't even recognize.

The secret finally unraveled on a lazy Friday evening.

A group of the old Class 1-A heroes had gathered in the agency lounge. Izuku had handed his unlocked phone to Denki to show him a video of a new support item he was testing, before stepping out of the room to grab a drink.

Denki watched the video, but when he went to close the app, his thumb slipped. He accidentally opened Izuku’s photo gallery, swiping right past the main camera roll and landing on a hidden, password-protected folder. Except, Izuku had forgotten to lock it before handing the phone over.

"Hey, what's this?" Denki muttered, leaning over next to Mina and Kirishima.

Mina’s eyes lit up with gossip. "Ooo, Midoriya's secret files? Open it!"

They expected boring hero analysis notes or blurry pictures of All Might. Instead, the screen populated with hundreds of photos of a girl they had never seen before. It was you.

The first few rows were devastatingly sweet. A selfie of you wearing Izuku’s oversized hero hoodie, completely swallowing your frame. A candid shot of Izuku kissing your cheek while you laughed, his freckled face glowing with absolute adoration. A picture of the two of you tangled up in blankets, fast asleep on his chest.

"Whoa... Midoriya has a girlfriend?!" Kirishima gasped, his jaw dropping.

"And she’s gorgeous! Why wouldn't he tell us?" Mina squealed, aggressively scrolling further down the folder to see more.

But as her thumb swiped down, the aesthetic of the album drastically shifted. The bright, sunny selfies disappeared, replaced by dark, heavy-lidded thumbnails taken late at night. The smiles were gone, replaced by flushed skin, messy hair, and dark bruises blooming along your collarbones.

Denki gulped. "Uh, Mina... maybe we should stop—"

It was too late. Mina’s finger accidentally (or not)tapped on a thumbnail with a play button, and the video immediately went full screen, the volume blaring into the quiet lounge.

It was a video Izuku had recorded himself. The camera angle was shaky, held in his massive, scarred right hand, pointing down at the bed. The friends froze in absolute, paralyzed shock. On the screen, Izuku’s broad, muscular chest was heaving with sweat, pinning you firmly to the mattress. His usually sweet, bright green eyes were dark, predatory, and burning with a heavy lust they had never seen.

But it was the audio that made them all instantly blush.

"Look at the camera, baby," Izuku’s voice purred from the speakers. It didn't sound like Deku. It was an octave deeper, rough and commanding, vibrating with raw dominance. "Let them see how perfectly you take me. Tell me who you belong to."

In the video, a soft, breathy moan escaped your lips as Izuku’s hips shifted heavily against you.

"What the fuck?!" Bakugo yelled from the couch, his red eyes wide.

The lounge door suddenly swung open.

Izuku stepped into the room, two sodas in his hands. He froze. The sound of his own ragged, dirty praise was echoing off the walls of the lounge. His eyes dropped to the phone in Denki’s shaking hand.

For a split second, the freckled hero looked like a deer in the headlights. His face flushed a deep, violent crimson. But as he looked at the shocked faces of his friends staring at the screen, the embarrassment vanished, immediately replaced by a dark, simmering possessiveness.

Izuku set the drinks down calmly. Green lightning sparked dangerously around his wrists as he walked over, snatched the phone out of Denki’s hand, and locked the screen with a sharp click.

"I think that's enough," Izuku said, his voice dropping into that exact same, terrifyingly low register they had just heard on the video. He looked around the room, his eyes hard and unyielding. "You didn't see anything. Understand?"

Nobody dared to say a word. Izuku turned on his heel and walked right out of the building.

Thirty minutes later, you were lounging on the couch in your shared apartment, wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts, completely oblivious to the chaos. You heard the front door unlock, but before you could even say hello, Izuku was crossing the living room in long, aggressive strides.

“Izuku? You're home ear—"

He didn't let you finish. He grabbed you by the waist, hauling you off the couch and pressing you firmly back against the wall. His lips crashed into yours, completely devouring your mouth. The kiss was desperate, bruising, and tasted like absolute possession. His large, heavily scarred hands slid under the hem of his t-shirt, gripping your bare hips so tightly it sent a jolt of heat straight to your core.

"Izuku... wait," you gasped against his lips, breathless. "What's wrong? What happened?"

He pulled back just an inch, his chest heaving against yours. His green eyes were completely dilated, burning with a frantic, heated energy.

"They saw," he breathed out, his voice thick and rough.

"Saw what?"

"My phone. Denki opened the locked folder. They saw the pictures of you. They saw... the videos."

Your heart stopped. Your entire face flooded with heat as the realization set in. "Oh my god... Izuku, they saw us doing—"

"I know," he growled, cutting you off, his grip on your hips tightening. "I hated it. I hated that they were looking at you. I wanted to break the phone in half." He leaned in, pressing open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck, his teeth grazing your pulse point. "But god, baby... at the same time, it drove me completely crazy."

"Crazy?" you whimpered as his hands slid higher, brushing against your sides.

"Knowing they heard you begging for me," he confessed, a dark, heavy smirk playing on his lips as he ground his hips into yours, letting you feel exactly how fired up the whole ordeal had made him. "Knowing that they all realize exactly who you belong to now. They know the Number One Hero loses his fucking mind over you."

He didn't give you time to process the embarrassment. Izuku picked you up effortlessly, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you toward the bedroom.

"They only got a tiny glimpse," Izuku whispered darkly against your ear, tossing you onto the center of the bed and instantly crawling over you, trapping you beneath his heavy, solid frame. "Now I'm going to show you exactly what they couldn't see."

fucking katsuki with a strap on

[miss-todobaku]

Synopsis: Katsuki Bakugo caught you humping the pillow

You thought you were completely safe. It’s a rainy Sunday afternoon, the rest of Class 1-A is out at the mall, and you locked your dorm door. Curled on your bed, face buried in a soft pillow, you're grinding your hips into it, chasing a desperate, aching friction as you hump into the plush fabric, whimpering into the pillowcase with your panties soaked and sticking to your heat.

What you didn't account for is that Katsuki has a spare key. Because you two have been dating in private for months, Aizawa gave him a secondary pass for emergencies, and Katsuki uses it whenever he wants to bypass knocking. He slips quietly into your room, expecting to find you studying or asleep. Instead, the sound of your wet, ragged gasps and the rhythmic squeak of your bedframe hits him dead in the air.

He freezes right inside the doorway, his red eyes snapping wide. His gaze locks onto your back—your hips rolling mindlessly into the pillow, your shirt hiked up, completely lost in your own climax. A massive, heavy wave of heat slams straight into his groin. His brain short-circuits at the sight of you so thoroughly ruined over a damn pillow instead of him.

He doesn't say a word. He doesn't slam the door or announce himself. With a dark, feral gleam in his eyes, he drops his phone on your desk, kicks the door shut behind him with a soft click, and stalks across the room like a predator closing in on prey.

You’re too far gone, eyes squeezed shut as you ride the edge of an orgasm, until a heavy, calloused hand suddenly clamps down hard over your hip, pinning you flat against the mattress.

Before you can even scream, a hot, ragged breath ghosts over your ear, his voice dropping into a low, filthy, vibrating growl. “The fuck do you think you’re doing, crying out like a little slut for a piece of fluff instead of me?”

You gasp, your eyes flying open in sheer panic as he yanks the pillow out from under you with one violent heave, leaving you completely exposed and stranded on the bed. Before you can twitch, he’s pressing his heavy, solid chest against your back, his knees shoving your thighs apart.

Without an ounce of hesitation, his hand dives straight down between your legs. He doesn't bother taking your panties off—he just hooks his fingers under the soaked, stretched lace of your underwear, shoving the wet fabric aside. The rough, calloused pad of his thumb immediately finds your swollen, dripping clit.

He drags his thumb across you in one hard, vicious circle, and you let out a loud, shattered screech into the mattress as a shockwave of pure pleasure rips through your body.

“Look at me,” he pants hoarsely right against your ear, pumping his thumb over your sensitive nub with a relentless, punishing rhythm while pressing two fingers deep inside your soaked heat. “Next time you're this damn horny and need to get fucked, you open your mouth and ask your boyfriend, you hear me? Now come for me, baby. Come on.”

[miss-todobaku]

Synopsis: Katsuki Bakugo found out he loves being called daddy.

It’s past 3:00 AM in the heavy silence of Katsuki’s dorm room. The only sounds are the frantic, slick slap of skin against skin and your ragged, breathless gasps as you ride him hard, your fingers tangled in his sweat-drenched blond spikes. You are completely undone, your body trembling on the desperate edge of another orgasm as he buries himself deep inside you.

Overwhelmed by the sheer friction and the heavy, intoxicating weight of him filling you up, your brain short-circuits. You throw your head back with a broken, needy whine, and the word slips right past your lips without a second thought: “F-fuck... please, daddy, harder—!”

The second the word echoes off the walls, Katsuki instantly freezes. His hips stall mid-thrust, his breath hitching hard in his throat. His red eyes snap up to your face, blown wide and completely unhinged. For a microsecond, the great Katsuki Bakugo looks utterly shell-shocked, his brain violently processing what the hell you just called him.

But the shock evaporates in a fraction of a second, replaced by a sudden, terrifyingly potent wave of heat that floods straight to his groin. The title hits him like a lightning bolt, unlocking a filthy, possessive switch in his mind he never knew existed. The sheer power of you looking down at him, completely at his mercy and begging him with that specific, degrading word, sends a violent shiver down his spine.

A dark, feral grin twists his lips as he surges upward, burying his thick dick as deep as it can possibly go with a brutal, earth-shattering thrust. “What did you just call me, little girl?” he growls, his voice dropping into a thick, gravelly, commanding rasp that vibrates straight through your chest.

He locks his heavy hands onto your hips, his fingers bruising your skin as he takes absolute control of the pace. He doesn't give you a second to catch your breath, slamming his hips up to meet you with relentless, punishing force.

“Say it again,” he pants hoarsely against your neck, his tone dripping with heavy, unhinged authority as he drives you insane with every stroke. “You want daddy’s thick dick, don't you? You want daddy to fuck you harder until your legs are shaking? Open your mouth and beg for it like a good girl, or I swear I won't let you sleep all night.”

[miss-todobaku]

Synopsis: Katsuki Bakugo is obsessed with your ass, and he can't wait to put his…..ykw

Every single time you walk past him in the common room, his red eyes zero in instantly, tracking the sway of your hips like a predator locking onto moving prey.

He doesn't give a damn who's watching, either. If you're standing by the kitchen counter or leaning over to grab a book, a heavy, calloused hand will suddenly clamp right over your backside, squeezing hard enough to leave an imprint through your fabric. When you jump and hiss at him in a low whisper, "Bakugo, everyone's right there!", he just glares back with a wicked, unapologetic smirk, murmuring, "Let them look. Everyone already knows whose property this is."

Behind closed doors in his dorm room, his obsession goes into overdrive. If you're lying on your stomach reading or doing homework on his bed, he treats your ass like his own personal stress toy-slapping it with a sharp thwack just to hear you yelp, burying his face in the curve of your waist, or dragging his teeth across your skin until you're squirming beneath him.

One night, as you're trying to pull away to get some space, his large hands hook firmly under your hips, dragging you flush against his front and trapping you right over his rapidly hardening length. He presses his mouth against the shell of your ear, his voice dropping into a thick, gravelly, demanding rasp: "Turn around and back that ass up lap right now, sweetheart. You know damn well my been aching for it all day."

[miss-todobaku]

Bakugo is not a quiet person in general, and he definitely doesn't hide his noises in bed. He is loud, rough, and completely uninhibited, making sure you hear every single low groan and heavy breath that leaves his chest. He loves to growl out your name over and over like a mantra, his voice deep and gravelly against your skin as he drives into you. He demands your absolute attention, ordering you to keep your eyes open and look right at him the entire time so you can see exactly what he's doing to you.

He needs you to know that you are completely his in that moment. As he moves inside you, he'll constantly remind you who you belong to, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises as he sets a relentless, punishing pace. He'll lean down, burying his face in the crook of your neck, and whisper dirty, rough, praise-filled comments against your ear, his breath hot and ragged. "You're mine, right? Fucking say it for me," he'll command, his tone a mix of a threat and a plea, completely losing his mind the second you give him the answer he wants to hear.

[miss-todobaku]

Synopsis: Giving Katsuki Bakugo sex candy during a three-hour lecture he doesn't know it yet.

Knowing Katsuki’s terrifying intolerance for boring lectures, you think you're being hilarious. Right as he sits down at his desk, you lean over and slide a small, foil-wrapped "adult novelty candy" onto his notebook—a gag-gift strawberry chew packed with high-potency herbal arousal supplements you picked up on a whim.

You whisper with a cheeky grin, "Eat it, baby. You're gonna need it to survive three hours of staring at the whiteboard." Katsuki shoots you a murderous glare, calls you a fucking idiot, but pops the candy into his mouth anyway just to shut you up, assuming it’s just a normal sour gummy.

For the first thirty minutes, nothing happens. Cementoss drones on about kinetic energy, and Katsuki sits rigidly in his seat, furiously taking notes with his jaw locked. But then, right around the forty-minute mark, the chemical cocktail hits.

A sudden, vicious wave of internal heat detonates low in Katsuki's gut. It isn't a normal buzz; it’s a heavy, scorching ache that floods his groin with blinding intensity. His hand freezes over his notebook. His breath hitches, and his red eyes dilate as a thick, throbbing erection springs to life inside his trousers, pressing painfully hard against the zipper of his rigid uniform pants.

Katsuki’s brain short-circuits. He shifts in his seat with a sharp, choked hiss, crossing his legs so fast he nearly snaps his ankle. His dick is rock-hard, leaking a thick stream of pre-cum that instantly slicks the inside of his boxers, and the friction of the denim alone makes his vision blur. He glares daggers at the back of Cementoss's head, sweating profusely, realizing he has two hours and twenty minutes left trapped in a crowded room while his body screams for relief.

He turns his head slowly, locking his burning, unhinged red eyes directly onto you. His chest is heaving under his white button-down, a furious flush creeping all the way up his neck.

He doesn't say a word out loud—he can't, or his voice will crack from the sheer agony of his arousal—but his lips mouth a slow, deadly promise across the aisle: You are so fucking dead when this class ends.

For the remaining two hours, you watch with a mix of amusement and growing terror as Katsuki sits like a ticking time bomb, shifting uncomfortably, his thick dick twitching against his pants with every heavy breath, glaring at you with pure, lust and rage because he knows he can't touch himself until that lecture hall finally empties out.

[miss-todobaku]

Summary: Katsuki Bakugo stole your used panties.

The common room was too chaotic, so Kirishima, Kaminari, Mina, jiro , Katsuki and Sero invited themselves into your dorm room for a study session. While everyone was distracted arguing over past hero exams, Katsuki’s red eyes locked onto a pair of your red lace panties tossed near your laundry basket. A reckless, possessive urge hit him, and he snatched them, stuffing them straight into his duffel bag. Nobody saw it happen thank god!

He kept his mouth shut, played it cool through the rest of the agonizingly long study session, and didn't pin anyone against the door or kick his friends out early. He just sat there acting like a moody bastard while the panties sat hidden right at the bottom of his bag.

Once the study session finally wrapped up and his idiots friends cleared out of your room, Katsuki grabbed his bag, told you a curt goodbye, and marched straight back to his own dorm. He locked his door tight so nobody could ever walk in on him.

He dropped his bag, dragged out the stolen panties, and buried his face straight into the damp fabric. The heavy, sweet musk of your pussy hit him instantly, making a filthy groan rip out of his throat. Completely unhinged, he shoved his hand down his sweatpants, wrapping a tight, furious fist around himself as he pumped hard and fast. Breathing in your scent, he imagined every filthy inch of you, driving himself insane until he came apart with a loud, messy, shuddering climax all over his hand while whispering curses into your panties.

[miss-todobaku]

I am too lazy to create master list 😭

[miss-todobaku]

breeding with bakugo where he’s really adamant on getting reader pregnant and is saying domestic stuff while being super rough and eager

18+ minor do not interact….breeding,p in v

The air in the bedroom was thick, smelling of unbridled lust. Katsuki had you pinned against the mattress, his heavy body crushing yours into the sheets with a weight that felt possessive and absolute. He wasn't just fucking you; he was claiming you. There was a desperation in his eyes, a feral hunger that went beyond simple pleasure. He wanted to leave a mark on you that would last long after the sweat dried and the breathing slowed.

He had your legs hiked up high, your knees practically touching your shoulders, exposing every sensitive inch of you to his intense gaze. He was already hard, a thick, pulsing vein throbbing along his length as he hovered at your entrance, teasing you with the head of his cock, rubbing it against your clit in a slow, agonizing circle.

"Look at you," he rasped, his voice a low, guttural growl that vibrated through your entire chest. "Look how fucking wet you are for me. You’re practically begging for it, aren't you?"

"Katsuki... please," you whimpered, your hips subconsciously lifting, trying to pull him inside.

He let out a dark, triumphant chuckle and suddenly slammed into you. He didn't ease in; he drove himself home in one singular, violent thrust that knocked the breath out of your lungs. You let out a sharp cry, your fingers digging into his muscular biceps as he filled you to the absolute limit.

"Fuck... you're so tight," he groaned, his forehead leaning against yours, his breath hot and ragged. "Your pussy is so fucking good. It's like it was made just to wrap around me."

He began to move, and the pace was relentless. He wasn't being gentle; he was hitting you with a rhythmic, punishing force that made the headboard crack against the wall. Every thrust was deep, aimed at the very back of your womb, as if he were trying to imprint himself onto your soul.

Between the heavy thuds of your bodies colliding, he started to talk—a strange, intoxicating blend of rough filth and domestic longing.

"I'm gonna fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk for a week," he breathed, his voice dropping to a possessive whisper. "And I'm gonna do it until I've filled every single inch of you. I want you carrying my brat. I want to see your stomach grow with my kid, you hear me?"

The sheer intensity of his words made your heart race. He gripped your waist, his fingers bruising your skin as he tilted your pelvis up to get an even deeper angle.

"Imagine it," he groaned, his pace accelerating, his eyes blown wide with obsession. "A little version of me running around. I'll take care of everything. I'll be the best fucking father there is, but first, I have to make sure you're knocked the fuck up. Do you like that, huh? Knowing I'm putting a baby in you right now?"

"Yes... oh god, yes, Katsuki!" you cried out, your walls clamping down on him in desperate, rhythmic pulses.

"That's right," he snarled, his movements becoming more frantic, more eager. "Take it all. Take every fucking drop. I love you so much it's driving me fucking insane, and I'm not letting a single bit of my seed go to waste."

He began to drive into you with a primal urgency, his breaths coming in short, jagged gasps. He was chasing the edge, and he wanted you right there with him. He leaned down, biting your shoulder hard enough to leave a mark, his voice a commanding rumble in your ear.

"I'm gonna breed you, baby. I'm gonna fill you up so full you'll feel me leaking out of you for days. You're mine. My wife, my girl, the mother of my fucking kids."

The friction reached a breaking point. You felt the coil in your gut snap, your vision blurring as a massive orgasm ripped through you. You screamed his name, your body shaking violently under him.

Katsuki let out a loud, guttural roar, his entire frame stiffening as he delivered one final, deepest-possible thrust. He buried himself inside you, pinning you down with all his weight as he came in heavy, pulsing waves. He didn't pull out; instead, he pushed deeper, grinding his hips against you to ensure every drop of his release was forced as far inside as possible.

He stayed there for a long time, panting heavily, his heart hammering against your ribs. He slowly shifted, kissing your forehead and your nose with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the violence of the act.

"Got it," he whispered, a smirk of pure satisfaction on his lips as he felt the warmth of his seed filling you. "I know I got you pregnant this time. You're gonna be such a pretty little mother for me."

[miss-todobaku]

I WANT TODOBAKU FF SO BADDDDDDDDD!!!! SOME1 PLS RECOMMEND ME SOME!!!!

[miss-todobaku]

Don’t look under the table!

The conference room at the agency is packed, a suffocating wall of noise as top-ranking heroes debate the logistics of a joint raid. Maps are projected on the wall, voices rise and fall, but at the far end of the long, polished table, Katsuki isn't listening to a single word.

He’s sitting back, arms crossed tightly over his chest, his jaw set in a hard, rigid line. To anyone else, he looks like his usual, pissed-off self, thoroughly annoyed by the bureaucracy. But beneath the table, the tension is entirely different.

You sit directly across from him, your expression carefully blank, a tablet in your hands as if you’re taking notes. But your chair is pulled slightly forward, and your left leg is extended completely under the table, hidden by the heavy wood and the long tablecloth.

Slowly, deliberately, you slide your bare foot up his leg.

Katsuki’s eyes snap up, locking onto yours across the room. A dangerous, warning glint flashes in his crimson gaze, but you don't back down. Your toes trace the line of his calf, moving higher, over his knee, until you find the heavy fabric of his trousers right between his thighs.

You apply pressure, your arch pressing firmly against the growing hardness beneath his zipper.

A sharp, microscopic hitch catches in his throat. His knuckles turn white where his arms are crossed, his bicep muscles flexing hard under his shirt. He doesn't move away. Instead, his gaze burns into yours, a silent, furious challenge.

“Moving on to the perimeter layout,” Best Jeanist’s voice echoes from the front of the room, oblivious. “Dynamight, I’ll need your team handling the east sector. Are you clear on the entry points?”

Katsuki doesn’t look away from you. He takes a slow, deep breath through his nose, his chest expanding tightly.

"Yeah. Clear," he bites out. His voice is a octave lower than usual, thick and gravelly, laced with a dangerous edge that makes the hero next to him glance over in confusion.

Emboldened, you curve your foot, your toes deftly tracing the length of him, pressing down harder, grinding in a slow, rhythmic circle. You watch a muscle jump violently in his jaw. The sheer heat radiating from him under the table is intoxicating. He’s trapped, completely at the mercy of your foot, unable to move or make a scene without exposing exactly what you're doing to him in front of the entire pro-hero community.

He leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table, his fingers interlocking. It looks like a posture of intense concentration on the maps, but beneath the edge of the wood, his hand reaches down.

His grip clamps around your ankle like a vice. His fingers dig into your skin—not enough to bruise, but a heavy, commanding weight that pins your foot directly against his throbbing heat.

"You think you're fucking clever, don't you?" Katsuki mutters, his voice barely a breath, completely masked by the sound of another hero speaking across the room. He glares at you through his bangs, his eyes dark, blown-out, and absolutely lethal. He shifts his hips, deliberately grinding himself hard against the sole of your foot, using his grip on your ankle to dictate the friction.

A soft, involuntary gasp catches in your own throat, your fingers tightening around your tablet.

A smirk, dark and deeply unhinged, tugs at the corner of his mouth when he hears it. He leans in just a fraction further, his voice a low, gravelly vibration meant for your ears alone.

"Keep pushing it," he whispers, his thumb stroking the back of your ankle while his hips roll subtly, ruthlessly against your foot. "The second this door locks, I'm going to make you pay for every single second of this."

[miss-todobaku]

Loving someone who has already given his heart to someone else is not easy.

You watched him from the edge of the Class 1-A common room, your back pressed flat against the kitchen counter as you sipped a glass of water.

Katsuki was slouched on the main couch, his broad shoulders relaxed in a way he only allowed when he was exhausted. Tucked perfectly against his side was his girlfriend, her head resting comfortably on his chest while she scrolled through her phone.

Katsuki was complaining loudly about whatever trash TV show was playing on the screen, his voice rough and aggressive as usual. But his actions completely betrayed his tone. His massive, scarred hand—the one that usually spat lethal explosions—was resting gently over her hip, his thumb lazily tracing soothing, repetitive circles into her fabric.

It was a version of him nobody else got to see. Soft. Attentive. Entirely devoted.

You quickly looked down at your glass, swallowing past the sudden, sharp lump in your throat. You would never dream of getting between them. You liked her, and more than that, you respected the rare, genuine happiness Katsuki found with her. You knew your place, and you stayed firmly behind the boundary line.

But god, it killed you.

You had tried absolutely everything to kill the feeling. You spent hours pushing your body to its absolute limits in the gym, forcing yourself into a state of physical exhaustion just so your brain would be too tired to think about him. You tried focusing entirely on your studies, keeping your eyes glued to your desk whenever he walked into the classroom smelling of ozone and expensive cologne.

But your heart completely defied your logic.

It didn't care that his uniform jacket was thrown over another girl's shoulders during chilly evening patrols. It didn't care that his eyes only searched the crowds for her face. Your heart had stubbornly chosen Katsuki a long time ago, and no matter how much reality slammed against your chest, it simply refused to give up on him. You were hopelessly, devastatingly tethered to a man who didn't even know he held your soul in his hands.

"Hey. Move it, extra."

Your breath hitched as Katsuki’s gravelly voice suddenly broke your train of thought. He had walked into the kitchen to grab a drink, his sharp crimson eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at you standing by the counter.

"Sorry," you whispered, offering him a small, practiced smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. You immediately stepped back, giving him all the space in the world.

He paused for a fraction of a second, his gaze lingering on your face as if trying to decipher the faint trace of sadness in your posture. Then, he let out a low grunt, grabbing his drink and turning on his heel to walk straight back to the girl waiting for him on the couch.

As you walked back to the quiet isolation of your dorm room, you locked the door behind you and let out the shaky breath you’d been holding all evening.

You chose to love him in absolute silence.

You would never tell him how your pulse hammered when he accidentally brushed past you in the hallways. You would never let him see the way your eyes lingered on the sharp line of his jaw. In the waking world, you were just a classmate, a peer, a ghost on the periphery of his love story.

But here, in the quiet safety of your own mind, there was no heartbreaking reality to face. In the silence, there was no rejection. When you closed your eyes in the dark, he wasn't hers. In the shadows of your own heart, Katsuki belonged to no one but you.

Hey guys, I am just posting my draft, nothing else. I got a lot of requests, but it will definitely take some time to fulfill all your requests.💫

[miss-todobaku]

PART 1

Bakugo doesn't even let you reach the bed. He slams you face-first against the nearest wall, his massive, heavy frame pinning you flat from behind. His uniform trousers are already completely soaked through at the fly, his thick, rock-hard length pressing violently against the cleft of your ass with a desperate, throbbing weight that leaves no room for doubt.

fuck, the absolute desperation is off the charts. He doesn’t waste a single second undressing you nicely—he just yanks your clothes out of the way, his large, calloused hands gripping your hips so hard his thumbs literally sink into your flesh to anchor you flat. He’s completely unraveled, his raw, swollen head dripping wet against your skin as he deliberately drags himself along your dripping heat, making you sob and arch helplessly into the drywall.

He doesn't ease his way in; he rams himself entirely home in one deep, violent stroke, a guttural, ruined roar ripping from his chest as he bottoms out. He immediately starts a ruthless, unhinged pace, his heavy pelvis bruising against your backside with every filthy, wet thrust. His hand flies forward to grip your jaw, forcing your head back to devour your mouth in a bruising, spit-slick kiss, growling a desperate, breathless "stretch for me, baby—take all of it" right into your throat until you completely shatter beneath him.

[miss-todobaku]

Katsuki bakugo; Getting hard in the middle of class is less than ideal.

Bakugo tracking the movement of your hips from two rows back is pure torture when he’s this turned on. Every time you shift or lean forward, his eyes go completely pitch-black, and his uniform trousers get so painfully, tightly packed with a thick, aching erection that he has to slouch low and spread his legs just to handle the friction. He’s entirely unraveled, his body radiating a violent, suffocating heat because he’s fully hard just from staring at the back of your outfit.

He literally can’t handle the distance, so he deliberately walks past your row under the guise of turning in a paper. As he brushes past your desk, he crowds right into your space, letting his heavy, swollen lap press hard against the back of your chair for a hot, unhinged second so you can feel exactly what you did to him. He lets out a ragged, frustrated grunt against your ear, his thumb driving bruisingly into your shoulder blade to make you gasp.

The absolute second the bell rings, he completely ditches any sense of discretion. He yanks you out of your seat by your waist, dragging you into the blind spot behind the locker cabinets and slamming you against the wall. He forces his knee directly between your thighs, pinning you high against the metal as he slams his mouth onto yours, growling a ruined, desperate "fuck, you have no idea what you did to me today—move your ass to my room before I strip you right here."

Part 2

[miss-todobaku]

Papi PLEASE do another one shot similar to riding a dildo infront of katsuki it was so PEAK

just you and Katsuki having public sex

The party was loud, a chaotic blend of booming bass, expensive liquor, and the oppressive scent of too many bodies crammed into one penthouse suite. Katsuki looked completely out of place, leaning back in a heavy leather armchair in the corner of the room, his arms crossed over his chest, a permanent scowl etched onto his face. He hated these things, but he’d come because you’d asked him to.

And you were currently feeling particularly mischievous.

You had been drinking just enough to lose your inhibitions, and the way Katsuki was looking at you—eyes narrowed, jaw tight, watching every move you made—was practically an invitation. You walked toward him, the crowd parting as you navigated your way to his chair. You didn't say a word; you just stepped between his spread legs and sank slowly onto his lap.

The moment your heat hit his thighs, you felt him stiffen.

You began to move, grinding your hips in slow, agonizing circles against his hardness. You leaned forward, your breasts brushing against his chest, your lips hovering just an inch from his. You could feel him trembling beneath you, his hands gripping the armrests of the chair so hard the leather was beginning to creak.

"You're playing a dangerous game," he rasped, his voice a low, warning vibration.

You didn't stop. You arched your back, sliding your ass up and down his length, feeling the thick ridge of his cock straining against his trousers. You reached back, grabbing his hair and pulling his head back, exposing his throat. You whispered something filthy in his ear, a detailed description of exactly what you wanted to do to him, while you continued to grind into him with rhythmic, punishing precision.

Katsuki was suffering. He was hard as a rock, his breath coming in ragged hitches, his eyes darkening into a predatory gold. He wanted to flip you over and wreck you right there, but he was trying to maintain some shred of his "respectful" facade. There were people everywhere—classmates, strangers, noise—and he was fighting every instinct to just scream and take you.

Finally, he couldn't take it. He grabbed your waist, his fingers digging into your skin, and hissed, "Enough. Get your ass in the bedroom before I lose my fucking mind."

You paused, looking at him with a lazy, defiant smirk. You felt the power you had over him in this moment, the way he was practically begging for release while trying to act composed.

"No," you whispered, your voice loud enough for the people nearby to hear. "I don't feel like walking all the way over there."

Katsuki's eyes blew wide. "What the fuck do you mean 'no'?"

"I mean," you murmured, reaching down to unbutton his pants right there in the open, "that I don't care who's watching."The shock on his face lasted for exactly one second before it was replaced by pure, unadulterated lust. If you were throwing away the rules, he was more than happy to burn the whole house down.

He didn't help you get undressed; he practically ripped your clothes off, shoving your skirt up and tossing your panties aside with a rough tug. He didn't care that a group of people a few feet away had stopped talking and were staring in wide-eyed silence. He didn't care about the music or the flashing lights. All he cared about was the slick, dripping heat of you.

He grabbed your hips and hauled you up for a second before slamming you back down onto him. He had freed himself, his cock thick and pulsing, and as you descended, you took him all at once.

You let out a loud, piercing scream of pleasure that cut through the music, your head snapping back as he buried himself deep inside you. Katsuki let out a guttural roar, his hands locking onto your waist like vices, anchoring you to him.

"You want this?" he growled, his voice raw and booming. "You want everyone to see how fucking loud you scream for me?"

He began to thrust upward, using the chair for leverage to drive himself into you with violent force. Because you were sitting on him, every thrust felt like it was hitting your cervix, sending electric shocks of pleasure radiating through your entire body. You were riding him in full view of the party, your breasts bouncing with every impact, your fingers clutching his shoulders as you sobbed his name.

The crowd was a blur of shocked faces and muffled whispers, but for Katsuki, the world had shrunk down to just you and the feeling of your tight walls clamping around him. He wasn't being "respectful" anymore. He was being a beast.

He reached up, grabbing your breasts and squeezing them hard, his thumbs rubbing over your nipples as he hammered his hips upward. The sound of the sex was visceral—the wet, slapping noise of your bodies colliding echoing in the small space.

"Look at them," he commanded, his voice a harsh snap. "Look at all these people watching you get fucked by me."

You opened your eyes, glancing at the stunned onlookers, and the sheer exhibitionism of it pushed you over the edge. You began to move faster, your hips grinding and bouncing in a frantic rhythm, desperate for the peak.

"Katsuki! Please! Fuck, I'm—!"

"Take it! Take all of it!" he roared.

He shifted his grip, lifting you slightly and then slamming you down with a final, devastating thrust that felt like it reached your soul. You climaxed violently, your internal muscles squeezing him in rhythmic waves that nearly knocked the wind out of him.Katsuki followed immediately after. He let out a primal, guttural shout, his entire body locking up as he surged upward one last time, filling you with hot, thick loads of seed. He groaned your name, the sound vibrating through your chest as he spent himself completely inside you.

For a long minute, neither of you moved. You stayed slumped against him, both of you panting heavily, sweat slicking your skin. The room had gone silent; the party had effectively stopped.

Katsuki leaned in, biting your earlobe one last time before whispering with a smug, triumphant smirk:

"Next time... we're going to the bedroom. Because I'm not done with you yet."

Well… maybe I'm just sick in the head.

[miss-todobaku]

Bakugo usually walks incredibly fast, stomping ahead and leaving everyone else in the dust because he hates being slowed down. But the second he is with you, his pace completely changes. He will automatically slow his stride just enough so that his shoulder brushes against yours with every step you take.

If you point it out or tease him about it, he’ll immediately get defensive, clicking his tongue and yelling that you’re just a slow walker and he doesn't want you getting lost. But no matter how much he grumbles, he never speeds up. He keeps his arm flexed right next to yours, ready for you to grab onto it, making sure he's walking right by your side to keep you close and safe.

[miss-todobaku]

The static on your comms device cut through the quiet of the mission site, followed by the unmistakable, playful lilt of Gojo Satoru’s voice.

"Hey, are you almost done with that?" he asked, his tone deceptively casual. "Because the house is way too big and way too empty without you here, and I'm finding it really hard to focus on anything that isn't... well, you."

You sighed, ducking behind a pillar as you dodged an incoming curse, already knowing exactly where this was headed. "Satoru, I'm in the middle of a grade one assignment. Can this wait?"

"It can’t," he countered, his voice dropping into that low, dangerous rasp. "I’ve been thinking about you all day. About how much I miss the sound of you, the feeling of you... specifically, how you sound when you're completely undone under me, your thighs shaking and your folds dripping wet just because I’m touching you." He paused, his breath hitching slightly against the microphone. "I'm already hard just thinking about you finishing that mission and coming home to me. I want you to walk through that door so I can get my face buried between your soaking wet legs and taste every bit of your aching, slick core."

"You're impossible," you muttered, though your heart hammered against your ribs.

"I'm just a very, very horny husband," he chuckled, the sound vibrating through the device. "Hurry up, princess. I’m not planning on letting you sleep once you get back. I’m going to make sure you’re sore and spent, with my marks all over your soft, needy body until you’re begging me to stop."