it's ya girl, Laysa♡ (or Ally, however you feel like calling me).
i'm not good at self-introductory bios, so I'll make it quick. i stopped writing for like a couple of years and deleted almost everything i wrote—but here we are again, and now you probably will only find fics for anime series like MHA, JJK, HAIKYUU—and some BTS.
you're welcome to read any of my works in AO3 or my Tumblr. if you find them in any other platform, it's not me and i would gladly appreciate and thank you if you inform me of that.
♡ disclaimer and blog rules ♡
all the characters i use for my stories DO NOT belong to me in any form, that's why these stories are called FANFICS. those characters, most of the time are ADULTS in my stories.
i feel comfortable on writing almost everything, if not, i'll tel you (: there are very few things that i don't like to write, that's why mostly all of my works are rated M, MA, Explicit, NSFW, wich means my blog is adults only (18+)— minors dni. if you're one, you know you're not supposed to be here. i'm not your mom to actually being telling you this. get out of this blog. thanks.
so, enjoy your journey on my worlds and i hope you like them♡ if you find any mistakes, please message me, so i can correct them. i'm not an english native speaker, so i'm constantly learning.
i am taking requests at this time. but i also write when i’m inspired and have the energy to do so keep that in mind i might take time to answer back–or not. of course, i do accept lewds/thirsts in my asks.
reviews, comments, reblogs, mean the world to me♡ but always spread positivity, please. every negative comment will be deleted♡
REMEMBER:
EVERYTHING IS WELL RECEIVED IF IT'S MADE WITH RESPECT.♡
thinking about Pro Hero Dynamight having you as his favorite sidekick in training… you’re a quick learner, agile, a smarty pants, and even a bit aggressive with villains –which makes Bakugou like you even more, but won’t specifically say that out loud.
you two are a great team, so it’s not weird or uncommon to find you two together on missions, or even hear Dynamight in the middle of a fight, “Get me Y/H/N, NOW!!”
so when this particular strong villain appeared and your phone, your hero-comm and even Deku himself almost bang-ed the door of your apartment down asking for help wasn’t something that haven’t happened before. What was knew is how beaten up Deku looked, the plead in his voice when he said, “it’s Kacchan…”
you did not need to hear more.
but maybe you did, because when you arrived at the scene it wasn’t what you expected.
you expected Dynamight to be injured, not him being the one injuring everyone around. apparently he was under the influence of the quirk of the villain and was causing chaos. he needed to be stopped before he did something that would ruin him.
Bakugou was completely under a trance, he did not know anything of what he was doing. so when the heroes finally won against the villain and Katsuki was free from the trance, he could not believe what his eyes were seeing.
but above all, he could not bare to see the scared eyes in which you were looking at him.
୨୧ choso’s just about as pathetic as a man can get. ୨୧
this realization comes to you after gojo begs you to give his friend a chance.
“please,” gojo says, and you scowl at him. “he’s nice. and i’m pretty sure he has a massive thing for you.”
“me?” you ask, incredulous. “i’ve never talked to him in my life.”
gojo sighs, flopping back onto your couch. “if i ever, like, loosely mention you in conversation, i swear he blushes.”
that’s how you end up in the living room of the frat friday night. loud, warm, the air slightly hazy.
choso right beside you on the couch, barely looking at you at first, all hunched shoulders and quiet glances, dark hair brushing his neck, dermal piercing catching the light every time he nervously shifts.
yeah, you think, he’s cute.
you end up sharing a joint, and that’s when you notice how he freezes every time your fingers brush his, how his breath hitches. it’s not subtle. not even a little. and when you lean a bit closer, knee nudging his, he almost drops it. across the room, gojo and the others are already smirking like they know exactly how this is going to go.
they don’t even try to hide it when they leave. gojo claps choso on the shoulder, says something low that makes his ears turn red, and suddenly it’s just the two of you on that worn-out couch, the music muffled now, the air heavier.
choso apologizes. for his friends, for himself.
you remember thinking how easy it is to get a reaction out of him. how all it takes is a hand on his chest, a soft question, and he’s unraveling right in front of you.
he nods at everything, says yes too quickly like he’s afraid you’ll change your mind if he hesitates. when he slips and said “please,” you know you have him.
“d’you like me, cho?” you murmur with glassy eyes, hand sliding up his collar and pressing against his nape, fingers deftly threading through inky hair.
“g—yes. yes, so much,” he exhales, voice shaking slightly as you pull him closer to you.
“wanna fuck?” you whisper, straddling yourself on his lap and relishing in the small, broken sound he makes when your glossed lips suckle at the junction of his neck.
“here? now?” his eyes bugger wide, hands squeezing your waist as your lips trail up, and up, and up, until you’re sliding your tongue in his mouth, bracketing your lips against his, swallowing his needy little moans.
he pants into your mouth as your hands pull at his hoodie and he shrugs it off wordlessly, cheeks flushed as your eyes trail down the milky expanse of his chest.
“pretty,” you murmur, and he whines, hands frozen at his sides when you slip your shorts off and toss them to the side.
“as much as i wanna feel your mouth on me,” you breathe, pupils blown, “i need to feel you in me. now. yeah?”
“y—yeah,” he shudders, hands fisting the couch beside him nervously as you tug his jeans and boxers down mid-thigh, his cock beading precum as it aches towards his stomach.
“i—ohmygod,” he slurs, whimper being pulled from his throat as you sink down on him in one shot. “please—”
“haven’t even done anything,” you say, hands locking onto his shoulders as you lift your hips slowly before dropping them back down, the motion making choso buck up desperately and moan into your neck.
“m not gonna last,” he whines pathetically, and you sneer, telling him to be good for you or you’ll stop.
you think it’s 30 seconds before he’s cumming, head falling back against the couch with a strangled sound.
he whimpers when you ask him which direction his bedroom’s in.
asshole!sukuna and his soft spot for shy!girlfriend!reader ༊*·˚ (18+)
asshole!sukuna doesn’t fuck with a lot of people. i mean, when you’re a 6’5, 90 kg guy with bold tattoos littering your entire body, you’re not really trying to attract sociable people. still, the borderline loner had a few exceptions, his frat brothers, a select few professors, and you.
you were the main exception.
asshole!sukuna met you one day at a fundraising event his frat was hosting, a dollar for a slap. girls would line up in front of a long table and choose a guy to hit, then pay a small donation that went towards the rspca. you and your friends were keen to donate, put some of the guys who’d fucked with their feelings in their place, or however they’d phrased it. you were mostly there for the experience, not too in tune with the whole frat fuckboy lore your friends loved to gossip about.
when you arrived, you started to feel really bad. all these guys’ cheeks were raw and red, and despite their cocky smiles, it just couldn’t be all that fun. when it came to your turn, you had to choose a guy, and your eyes drifted to asshole!sukuna. he was the biggest there, had only a slightly red cheek, and looked like he could take a hit.
asshole!sukuna forced a smile when he saw you walk up to him, your head lowered as you shyly handed over a fiver. he accepted with a, “thanks, sweetheart. go ahead.” he leaned down to your level, bracing for impact, but all he felt was a light pat on his stinging cheek.
“the fuck?”
“oh, i’m sorry! i tried to go soft, i—”
“you call that a slap? what, think i can’t handle it?” he scoffs. “slap me again, hun, harder. don’t waste your money.” he leans down again, looking you in the eye to challenge you.
but again, all that comes is a light tap.
“oh, for god— it’s a dollar for a slap, not a dollar for a fuckin’ cheek massage.” he huffs, looking over your expression with an irritated scowl, only to catch that hesitant little frown on your face.
asshole!sukuna can’t help but crack a smile. he’d had about ten girls come and slap the fuck outta him today. they were all old flings desperate to get their get-back, but that was hardly the point. you were this new thing entirely, a soft thing that seemed sweet regardless of if he was notorious for being a cunt or not.
“what’s y’ name, sweetheart?”
asshole!sukuna decided he wanted to see you again after that. you’d caught his interest, which doesn’t happen often. he asks for your number. your instagram, your snapchat, everything. it was kinda pathetic how eager he was to get to know you, but you handed them all over anyway. your friends warn you after the fact that he’s definitely not good news, but you can’t help but want to see where this goes after only dating squares for most of your life.
asshole!sukuna takes you on a date the very next day, and you were pleasantly surprised at how chivalrous he was. he pulled out your chair at the small hole-in-the-wall restaurant he took you to, he paid for everything, and even more surprisingly, made you feel comfortable. you talked for hours about everything and anything.
you learned that asshole!sukuna had a lot of hobbies. he played guitar, drums, did a fair few building sketches in the art room with his friend geto when he had time, and had a real connection to film. all of which were things you found extremely attractive, and he could tell, because the next time you two went out he took you to his dorm and showed you his musical endeavors.
“you’re like... super talented, it’s really attractive.” you smile gently, sitting at the foot of his bed, watching as he finishes up a love song he’d been learning for you.
“yeah, y’ think so? gonna come to all my gigs when i’m a famous musician?”
“will i get a backstage pass?”
“oh, absolutely.”
asshole!sukuna had officially swooned you after about five dates. he'd mustered up the courage to ask you to be his at that same restaurant he’d taken you to on that first date, and the rest was history. you and sukuna, the couple everyone of his mates envied due to how perfectly you two fit together.
“how the hell did a guy like you bag a girl like her. yr' gonna destroy the poor thing.” geto teased while they were smoking up one night.
asshole!sukuna could only reply with, “god, don’t you just hate jealous, hating ass motherfuckers?”
asshole!sukuna loved to not so subtly brag about you to literally anyone he talked to. (which wasn’t many, but still.)
“eugh, you’re buying lunch? my girlfriend made me food today, fucking loser.” he’d laugh at the dining hall when gojo and geto sat next to him with a greasy burger and fries. they just gave each other a look, smiled, and rolled their eyes.
“hm? nah, can’t tonight. me and my girl are getting hot pot. have fun drinking your problems, tho.” he’d turn toji down, turning his nose up at the idea of bar hopping like he wasn’t the most frequent man along the strip a few months back.
“a two man? i’m not bringing my girl around your little one and done situation, don’t ask me that shit again.” he’d laugh in jogo’s face, hating the idea of his precious baby being around a sleaze bag like him.
asshole!sukuna always puts you first. his frat’s planning something big, another fundraising night where they really care about attendance, and he’s meant to be there early to help set up. but out of the blue, you’ll send him a text just to say that you've had a slightly shitty day, and boom, he’s suddenly nowhere to be found. his phone’s off, car’s out of the driveway, and he’s at your door with your favorite food and that pissed look, how dare the world have the nerve to bother you.
asshole!sukuna likes to keep you very close to him when you’re out and about, with either an arm at your waist or his fingers intertwined with yours, he’s most comfortable when you’re right there where he can see you. that way, if anything were to happen, you’d be there for him to protect.
asshole!sukuna lets you get away with absolutely everything.
“ryo, can i draw on you? like, draw on your back while we watch a show or something?”
“sure, baby.”
“ryooo, can i braid your hair?”
“of course, love.”
“hey, ryomen? could you drive me to my friend’s house? she lives on the other side of town, though.. it’s okay if you don’t want—”
“no, no. let’s go, sweetness.”
“ryo, you smell.”
“shower with me then, baby.”
with anyone else, asshole!sukuna would have either yelled or broken their jaw for even thinking they could ask him such questions. but with you? the princess gets what the princess wants or whatever the saying he made up in his head was.
asshole!sukuna fucking hates when people talk over you. it’s a common occurrence due to your soft-spoken nature, you’ll be in the middle of saying something, and someone’ll cut in with whatever thing they think is funnier or more worth listening to. sukuna never lets it slide. “she was talking, dickhead.” he’d scoff, shutting them up and earning a shy, thankful smile from you, as you continued with what you were saying, far more important than whatever that clown had to yap on about anyways. (in sukuna’s mind, at least.)
asshole!sukuna spends a shit ton of money on you. you almost always go against the idea, but he just can’t help it... when he sees your eyes light up when you see something you like at the mall, he physically can’t resist. he’ll bookmark the product, then order it online to come to your apartment the next day.
“ryo... why do i have another package?” you whine over the phone, earning nothing but a chuckle from the other end.
“could tell you wanted it, so just enjoy it, sweet thing. you deserve all the fruits of my labour.”
“you don’t work? isn’t it your parents’ mon—”
“semantics. just enjoy, baby.” and he hangs up the phone, grabbing his keys to drive to your place and see how you like the new gift. he thinks it was a new dress? couldn’t be sure, it was hard keeping up with the millions of notifications from the post office.
asshole!sukuna remembers everything about his girl and makes sure you’re always getting exactly what you want. if he’s out getting dinner before driving to your place, he’ll stop at five different places if that meant getting your order perfectly correct. local maccas has a broken ice cream machine? he’s driving to the next location to try his luck there. one place doesn’t have the kind of noodles you like? he’s making his way to the closest chinese place to see if they do. he is the embodiment of “if he wanted to, he would,” and it’s all worth it seeing your face light up when he holds up the paper bag with a smile.
“your favourite.”
“oh my god? this is the place out of the city? how did you—”
“don’t worry about it, angel.”
and that was another thing, ashole!sukuna didn’t let you worry about anything. your place felt too messy? he was over there turning on mlp equestria girls and helping you clean. you wanted a home cooked meal? he’s at the store buying the ingredients. you needed help with an assignment? he’s pushed back his own work to sit down and help you smash them out.
asshole!sukuna is so overly territorial when it comes to functions. he doesn’t know, there’s just something about people drunk and horny all around you that ticks him off. he’ll always have you either sat next to or on his lap at frat parties. you stick to him regardless, but he has to make it obvious to all the fuckwits blatantly staring at you that you are indeed, his.
if they don’t get the hint the first time and are still gawking after his mild pda, asshole!sukuna would up the ante. he’ll take you off to some hallway or, if the guys are being particularly sleazy, he’ll kiss you right there. his lips trailling up and down your neck while he stares them dead in the eye, challenging them to look away.
“ryo... people are looking!” you whisper nervously.
“let them, sweetheart. you’re too pretty not to stare at.” he grins against your neck, sucking and biting at your soft skin.
by that point, they always look off. whether that be due to his death glare or the realisation that you’re not going anywhere anytime soon was beside the point.
asshole!sukuna gets embarrassingly hard at the smallest little things with you. you’ll just be sitting on the couch together and you’ll start scratching his back or head, boom, hard. when you’re sitting next to him in the library and you’re biting your pen, boom, hard. even when you’re just laying in bed, tired from the day, he’ll lay next to you and just sigh.
“how the fuck do you just look like that. you make it so hard to keep my shit to myself.” he groans as his arms snake around your waist.
“jeez, i can feel that thing poking into my back... what did i do now?” you smile sleepily.
“i wish i knew. seems like one look at you and i pop a boner.” he admits, a little embarrassed.
“can i help you out?”
asshole!sukuna loved how willing you were to service him, but preferred it the opposite way round. sukuna would spend hours between your pretty thighs if he could, sloppily kissing and sucking at your cunt with dazed eyes, loving nothing more than the pretty moans and groans he could pull from your throat.
“fuck yeah, y’ like that, baby? you like my tongue, hm?” he’d tease with his mouth full, pumping two fingers in and out of your soaked pussy as he dragged you closer and closer to your orgasm.
asshole!sukuna knew how wet his filthy words could get you, and he abused that knowledge each and every time he needed you prepped and ready for him.
“y’ think you can take me, baby, yeah? think you can take this fat cock?” he’d taunt, slapping the thick head against your cunt as your slick coated the pink, glossy skin. “fuckkkk, pretty pussy’s beggin’ t’ get drilled.”
“what’s that? you need me? well, isn’t that fuckin’ cute. beg a little more and maybe i’ll give you what you want.”
“be a good girl n’ say please and it’s all yours, angel.”
asshole!sukuna was massive, but you always took him so well. “you can do it, baby. i know you can.” he’d coo in your ear, lining up the monster of a thing.
“one, two, fuckkk.”
asshole!sukuna saw stars every time he’d push in, letting go of a long, pornographic moan as he began to thrust slowly in and out of your tight entrance. the look on your face as your eyes rolled back in pleasure made coming in less than a minute extremely hard, but the intense need to make you finish first overrode any sort of selfish desire to fill you up to the brim in the first few minutes.
asshole!sukuna loved missionary the most because he could see your pretty face. he enjoyed a bunch of freaked-out positions, but nothing could beat watching your pupils dilate and your lips quiver the second you finally came, his name on your tongue as you let go of the tension building in your tummy.
“y’ gonna come, baby? y’ gonna come on this cock?” he’d grunt, slamming his member deeper and deeper the louder your cries got, faster and faster until— “fuck, ryo! m’ cumming!” you’d stutter, your insides spasming on his cock, drawing out his own orgasm with one final pound, filling you up with hot ropes of his seed.
asshole!sukuna was the king of aftercare. words that were filthy before, now soft and caring.
“you okay, baby? did i go too hard on ya?” he’d ask through tired pants, standing to grab the wet wipes in the side drawer to wash your messy parts off.
“you want me to order something? anything you want, love. i’ll get you anything and everything.”
“c’mon, sweetheart. drink some water.”
asshole!sukuna never made you feel small after intimacy, in fact, sometimes you enjoyed the aftermath more than the mindblowing sex.
“m’ okay, ryo. just wanna cuddle.” you’d admit shyly, reaching for him to come back to bed.
his eyes would soften and he’d plop down next to you, pulling you into his lap. “anything for you, angel.”
sure, sukuna was an asshole, but he couldn't even dream of mistreating you, his biggest exception.
“love you, baby.”
“love you too, ryo.”
a/n: i wrote this semi off my face so excuse any bad word or structural choices 💘
❀ sukuna was cursed to spend an eternity in your cheating husband's wedding band - except he's got other plans (that involve your pussy finally getting the princess treatment)
Ring!Sukuna hated your husband.
Useless bastard who barely had time for you. And when he did, the only thing he gave a shit about was sticking his dick in you for three minutes before cumming on your back without even touching your clit.
That pleasure was saved for Sukuna.
Even if he was stuck in the cold, metal reminder of your awful marriage. Cursed ages ago to watch the world pass by from inside a ring, unable to talk, to hold, to fuck the way he wanted to.
And if he had his body back?
The first thing he'd do was bend you over that crappy mattress you kept complaining about and bury his cock in that pretty pussy of yours until you couldn't even remember your husband's name.
But no, he just had to sit and stew in his rage while he listened to that moron talk to his mistress on the phone in hushed whispers while you were asleep.
Okay, perhaps the first thing he'd actually do was dispose of that dipshit's body.
"Do you think I look okay?" Your soft voice called out, fingers smoothing out the fabric of your dress. You looked good enough to devour.
That prick, however, barely even glanced at you, too busy typing away on his phone to bother with replying to your question. No, he was deleting messages from his mistress.
You sniffled.
Murmuring softly that you'd change then before shutting the door to the bathroom behind you. Faint sobs echoing through the thin door.
Sukuna snapped.
Or well, the ring binding him broke, shattered from sheer rage.
Your husband screamed. Shrieked really, still a pussy in his final moments as you threw the bathroom door open half-naked to find him strangling the man you had the misfortune of marrying.
"Do you want me to kill him?" He grunted, glaring at the useless waste of human body parts he was holding six inches off the ground as your mouth fell open, unsure where to look or what to do when a seven foot tall man with four arms seemingly spawned in your bedroom. "He's been cheating on you for a year."
Using one of his extra hands to snatch the phone from him and toss it to you, watching your face morph from fear to anger that matched his as you scrolled through all the messages he hadn't gotten around to deleting yet, discovering the extent of his betrayal.
"Can you do it in the backyard?"
He even buried the body.
You watched him do it, standing there with a water hose to spray off his hands afterwards, asking him the obvious questions with swollen eyes as he grumbled begrudging answers.
Who the fuck was he? How did he get inside your house? Why did he even care?
You didn't seem to believe that he was trapped inside the wedding band your husband picked up at a pawn shop, like any sane person, but you also didn't seem to care when your eyes kept skimming over the sweat dripping down his broad chest.
And in the end, all it actually took to take your husband's place in bed was the offer of a real orgasm.
His mouth latched around your clit, hungrily sucking on the sensitive bud while one set of his hands held onto your hips. A spare making quick work of your greedy pussy, groaning at the pretty sound you made when your walls so eagerly sucked his thick fingers in.
Insisting on you riding his face, your thighs squeezing down as he appreciated every little squirm and shudder he drew out of you. You were just as fucking delicious as he dreamed. Sweetness he savored, your body trembling and shaking when he dragged his tongue over that bundle of nerves, gripping you hard enough to leave prints.
"W-why are you so good at this?" You gasped, gripping his hair hard. Threatening to rip out chunks as you grinded down into his mouth.
Maybe because he'd spent every goddamn moment watching you and waiting for this right here.
To see you falling apart for him.
You finished on his tongue like it was the most natural thing in the world, gasping and whining without even knowing his name, letting out desperate little mewls for more as you chased your climax.
"Holy shit," you exhaled, sucking in a sharp little breath almost immediately as you ran your fingers through his hair, trying to shift off but too stuffed with his fingers to budge. "I haven't cum like that in forever."
"You wanna do it again?"
a/n: this was lowk shit but i did promise it to you guys forever ago :/ div is by @/tsumiinum btw
b.katsuki + quirkless!gf gets attacked by villians
☆— fem reader, suggestive -not completely smut but something similar- emotional sexual tension(?) idk, man🙈
☆—a/n; so, in between the new fic that's draining my mind lately lol i have finished this little piece i have had in my draft for A WHILE🤭 i wanted to make it part of the Fuckin' Marry Me Series, however i liked the way it went like this, so i'm not gonna change it. you're free to decide if you want to imagine it in that world tho😉
Bakugou Katsuki is… surprised. Very much so.
He honestly thinks he has never been this surprised before.
There you are, looking tough and proud and brave –so fucking hot if he has anything to say about it. When you shouldn't.
Don't get him fucking wrong, he does believe that women can be brave and all. Fuck, there are a bunch of Heroes that are women who are fearless and deadly. The prime example of that is Mirko, his third favorite hero after All Might and Jeanist. But if his experience with civilians, mostly women, has taught him something, it’s that they aren’t so… strong, mentally and emotionally, after the incident happens. And this is not him fucking judging, fuck you. This is more statistics. And commonly, women would be ones going through a harsh fucking breakdown if they had gone through what you just did.
Here's what happened.
You and Bakugou had been together for almost a year already and it had been… fucking magical.
Yes, he will fucking describe it like that because, damn, you had shown him how good it feels to be loved and cherished, and fuck, he isn't a fucking coward, he will admit that he is head over heels in love with you. You both had been so enraptured inside a bubble of love, cutesy bullshit and all annoyingly gorgeous pink, that Bakugou really didn't see the big fucking storm coming.
His day began as hectic as any other day at his agency. But it was close to the afternoon, while he was revising a new case outside the city with Deku that he received that phone video call. It was from an unknown number. Normally, he would ignore it. But he accepted it this time, don’t ask him why.
The image that appeared on his phone's screen made him mad –real mad– and completely terrified at the same time.
You were kneeling on a dirty floor, tied up, hands and legs behind your back, tape over your mouth. You looked angry, with tears streaming down your face and sweaty. That infuriated Katsuki even more.
"If you want her back, you know what to do Dynamight," a fucking distorted voice said before ending the call.
It didn't take much for him and Deku to find the fucking bastards, hiding in an old abandoned factory not so far from the city. To summarize it, they were stupid brats beginning their careers as villains, now, of course, continuing it in jail. Dynamight had captured others from the same group when they attacked a technology corporation, so they wanted their stupid little friends free. That's why they kidnapped you.
The biggest fucking mistake they could ever have done.
After that, while you were being treated by the nursing team, Dynamight and Deku were watching the camera records around the place and at the entrance of the factory, and they were… impressed. They were watching how you gave them hell in trying to make you cooperate and enter the factory. You were kicking, screaming, scratching, insulting them with a colorful language that not even Katsuki knew you were able to speak. Even though you were Quirkless, damn, you did give them a fight. It was even clearer when you kicked one of them in the balls so hard that both heroes heard the painful kick.
Fucking ouch!
So, back to the present, he is very surprised as he looks at you entering the apartment with your head held high. Not one tear, no breakdown, no fear in your eyes. Just annoyance. You still sigh because it's been a hell of a tiring day.
"Do you… Do you need my help to…" He can't finish the sentence. What he means is if you need help to bathe or shower. You said on the car ride back home that you were going to get one as soon as you crossed the entrance door to the apartment.
It's not like he hasn't seen you naked already, you have had lots of fun already together, but he knows that during these events people tend to prefer privacy. Isolation even. But when he asked you in the car if you needed to be alone, you said you wanted him to stay with you.
So he is gonna stay the night… and all nights you ask of him.
"I'm fine, Katsuki," you smile, so bright and so cute it's a harsh contrast to how messed up you look with your hair tangled, some cuts over your face, and some parts of your clothes torn.
It hurts his heart seeing you like this. A constant pressure over his chest he can't soothe away, no matter how many times he repeats in his head that you are safe.
He looks down at his hands as he says, "I'm sorry."
"What for?" You chuckle gently as you walk closer to him and grab one of his hands, fingers interlacing with his. "If I remember correctly, you saved me."
He exhales a small sarcastic snort through his nose, "The reason they fuckin’ got you in the first place was because of me."
You shake your head, still smiling and looking at him like he's the most perfect man on earth, which Katsuki knows he isn't.
You're looking into each other's eyes when you say, "You think I didn't know what I was getting myself into when I accepted that first date?"
Bakugou Katsuki is out of words. He doesn't know how to answer back, because the only thing he wants to do is kiss you so strongly it might hurt you. Hug you so strongly that it may combine both bodies into one. So he stays still, holding back his need for you, while you stand on your tiptoes and kiss his cheek before walking towards the bathroom. He takes a deep breath. Fuck. He loves you so fucking much its driving him insane.
He was going to talk to you, to make you see how dangerous it actually was to be with him. He was going to convince you to break up, for your safety. Fuck! If he had been two minutes late today, he doesn't want to think of what could have happened.
But he can’t. Bakugou Katsuki is such a selfish bastard that he can’t tell you to break up with him. He wants you. He needs you. Katsuki fucking loves you so much he can’t breathe without you. So he won’t.
Katsuki shuts his eyes.
This never should have happened. He should’ve seen it coming, yet he didn’t, and that scares him to death.
The thought of losing you makes his chest ache like it’s splitting open.
So he makes a silent vow, a determined promise: Never again.
He’ll train harder. Watch closer. Be better. Protect you from everything and everyone.
No matter what it costs him, he’ll keep you safe.
Because you’re his entire world. Because he loves you with every fiber of his being, and he’s never giving up on you. Not to fear. Not to fate. Not to anyone.
He is so concentrated stirring the soup in the oven a couple of hours later, he doesn't hear you when you enter the kitchen. He realizes you're there when he sees you jump to sit over the counter through the peripheral vision of his eyes.
"That smells good," you comment, a soft and delicate curve of your mouth in the form of a smile that makes him go weak on the knees for you, as you move back and forth with your little bare feet. You're so freaking cute he wants to bite you.
He smirks when he finally sees how you're dressed. It's one of his t-shirts that are so big on you it functions more as a dress. He wonders if there's something else underneath. Or not. This last idea makes him hungry, and not specifically for food.
That's also when he notices the purple and reddish marks on the inside of your thighs and along your legs. He feels his blood boil like the soup he's done cooking. He should have killed those bastards.
Katsuki takes a deep breath before turning off the oven and walking til he's standing between your open legs. Your eyebrows are up, kind of surprised by the sudden proximity, but it is not unwelcome.
He doesn't say anything as he starts to drop down to the floor until he's kneeling, eyes still locked on yours. His mouth then starts a slow and gentle path from your shin, pecking your skin as he ascends to the inner side of your knee, coincidentally kissing around each mark this dreadful day has left on you. Always softly, doing his best in never putting too much pressure to make it hurt again, but enough for you to understand that he is sorry you got each and every one of them.
Your breathing quickens, eyes never leaving his face. A face that shows how concentrated he is now in his task, with his eyes closed as his mouth climbs towards your inner thighs. A small noise, almost like a breathed moan, leaves your mouth when his tongue touches your skin.
His breath brushes against your skin, warm and reverent, and the sound of it nearly undoes you. His hands, calloused but careful, anchor themselves at your hips as his lips reach the tender flesh of your inner thigh. There’s a tremble in his touch, but not from hesitation. You recognize it immediately. It’s restraint. Every part of him is tensed, like he is being extremely conscious of every move of his. You know then, he doesn’t want to scare you away, and that thought warms your heart.
“Katsuki…” Your voice is a breath, half plea, half warning, but he just shakes his head against you.
“I know, Firefly,” he murmurs, the rumble of his voice caresses your skin, softened by guilt and affection. “I know you’re hurt. I’m not gonna push. But let me take care of you, please…”
Bakugou Katsuki never begs. But he does. For you, only for you.
He leans in again kissing the spot just above the last bruise, and then another, slow and deliberate, as if he’s memorizing every mark this day has etched into your body. Every kiss is an apology, every breath he draws is laced with the fury he holds back. Not at you, never at you. But at the world that dared touch you like this.
You reach for him, threading your fingers through his messy hair, grounding both of you. He exhales, a low sound that vibrates against your thigh, as his eyes close for a moment. Enjoying your touch. Like your touch is all he needs to survive.
When he finally looks up, red eyes meeting yours, the heat there is unmistakable. But so is the tenderness, the love that rarely expresses out loud, yet it’s unquestionable that he feels for you.
“You tell me when to stop,” he says, voice thick. “I’ll go slow. I’ll stop. I’ll just hold you. Whatever you need me to. But I need to show you… Need you to feel it. That you’re still here, that I’ve got you.”
And with that, he travels back up your body, peppering kisses along the way until he’s hovering over you, foreheads touching, breath mingling. His hand cradles your cheek, thumb brushing gently beneath your eye, and for a long moment, all he does is look at you. Eyes so focused on you, you can feel the burn, but his body still.
Well, I’ve been quite absent these past months, life’s been quite harsh, but didn’t want to end the year without wishing you all the best for the next to come🌼 Hope all of your dreams and wishes do come true✨ But above all, I wish you all calmness. Tranquility in your minds and hearts💕 All the best for this 2026 that I know is going to be the best for us all!!! 😎🤍✨🌼🌼🥂
