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Thee kiddos
💥 🪨 🎞️⚡️
fellas grab your ladies if your lady fine...
how i think mha boys would do this trend :3 if you want anyone specific pls leave ur character in the comments & i'll make more parts!
part 2 here!
katsuki bakugo would be absolutely smug about it once he realized what he had to do. he wasn't one to do tiktoks with you, but he couldn't say no to your pleading eyes. katsuki would grab you and hoist you over his shoulder effortlessly and flash the camera his midle finger before pressing the button on screen to end the video.
izuku midoriya would tug on your hand with a proud smile on his face to bring you towards him. he'd be a little shy on camera, but izuku would then grab you by the face and smother it with kisses as the two of you giggled. that's his lady and yes, she is very fine!!
shoto todoroki would gently grab your hand with a soft smile on his face and lift your intertwined hands up to spin you. ARGUE WITH THE WALLLLL I AM RIGHT. he is a fella and he is (gently) grabbing his lady because his lady is FINEEEE AS HELL I TELL YOU. shoto would know what he's doing, staring at you with hearts in his eyes.
eijiro kirishima would absolutely not even hesitate to lift you up into his arms bridal style with a kiss to your cheek. eijiro would somehow maneuver his hold into a fireman's carry just to show off to the camera (and totally not you. tooootally...) just how strong he was...and how good of a boyfriend, too!
denki kaminari would do that cute dance move where he'd pull you by the hand into spin, making sure you landed securely in his arms before dipping you low enough you'd think you were about to fall. denki would top it all off with a dramatic kiss before sticking his tongue out at the camera.
hanta sero would sling himself over you back and press all of his body weight onto you, no hesitation. his arms would be tight around you, swaying you side to side before lifiting you up in that position and spinning you around. he loves you to his heart's content and wouldn't be afraid of acting silly just to prove it.
tenya iida would politely wrap his hand around your shoulder. a little stiff, but he had the spirit! he would however very quickly pull you into a hug as he saw the face of disappointment you made, large arms wrapping around you in a protective hug. tenya would be the type to proudly show you off, whether in front of a camera or not.
similar: a boy who's jacked and kind
getting off work with friends
redraw
⟢ bittersweet :: one
note: this was originally a stand alone turned into a series, not proofread enjoy!
✦ ✦ ✦
you realize bakugo doesnt like you when your high.
it's unfortunate of course, the weed already has you paranoid about everything and now, sitting in between all his friends you realize he probably never did.
your rambling, bakugo next to you his eyes hazed slightly, he hasn't responded once but thats not particularly uncommon for the man.
it's when your mid sentence, egging for his attention when he interrupts you, a finger pressing on your lips, "wait be quiet, 'm tryna hear." and you stop, almost to shocked from the touch to realize what he means.
kirishima is below him speaking in hushed tones to denki about whatever nonsense they go on about. giggling and sharing puffs of smoke.
and you look at bakugou, his fingers back on his lips, and he smiles. white canines peeking from behind his knuckles.
you realize sero had been looking at you for a little bit, and your paranoia spikes tenfold.
you'd been loud, and ruining the vibe. katsuki, blunt as always swooped in as the hero to save everyone from your sickening voice.
you excuse yourself to the bathroom of the males house, trying to calm the hurt in your chest.
the unnoticed gestures, the dimissed words. it was all there.
you clenched your knees, your heart was at an erratic pace now.
the comments, the looks of dissaproval and shame. you'd never fit in with them, bakugo especially, he's never even saw you.
never even considered you.
god, you needed to get out of this bathroom, it was getting hard to breathe.
you quietly made you way out of the back door, though you weren't sure it was necessary, would they even notice you'd gone?
would he?
you didn't want to think about it, your failed frienships, your failed relationship, if you could even call it that.
you're halfway through katsuki's driveway when you realize you didnt drive here and just ran out of money for an uber.
fuck, what were you supposed to do? walk? it was to far, plus you were still midly high, and with no sidewalks you didnt want to risk a car taking you.
before you could come to a decision a voice sounded behind you.
"hey, [name], babe are you okay?" it was sero, his touch made you jump.
"shit! sero, you scared me.." you mumbled trying to wipes tears you know he'd already seen.
"sorry, just..came to check on you. we were looking for you in there."
pitifully the comment made your heart swell. "oh well, just getting some air."
"i get it." and he's silent for a moment. "are..are you okay?"
and the way he asks you, so tender, so soft it almost makes you cry again. "i'm..i–" you choke on your words, and you almost want to tell him.
how out of place you feel despite the 5 of you being friends for as long as you can remember.
though in hindsight, it was only a semester, a single semester of trying and failing to belong.
how stupid you were you. going that long without catching on to bakugos obvious annoyance.
you swallow instead, hard and say, "i'm fine, just—i'm fine." sero doesn't press which your thankful for but the moment doesn't last long as kirishima, foggy eyed and so obviously fadded bursts through the front door and perks when he sees you and sero.
"guys she's out here!" and the words make you cringe, but you can't stop the onslaught of people that crowd you now. you can't make a scene, you can't fuck this up even more.
"so what, you guys are just having all the fun without us?" kirishima says, pouting. hes whiny when he gets high. and it hurts more that you know bakugo probably loves it.
sero responds for you thankfully, slinging a casual arm over your shoulder, something denki's eyes flicker at though you don't notice. "don't be jealous, were comin' back inside now." and sero momentarily looks at your face for approval, you nod.
you don't look at bakugo, so afraid to see his expression, though if you did, you would have saw something some might say is akin to jealousy.
✦ ✦ ✦
main masterlist :: series masterlist :: prev / next
“FLO JACKSON.”
FEAT. pro-hero CELLOPHANE & CHARGEBOLT
“eatin' real good, ass fat, i'm greedy,”
mdni cw: pussy eating
wc: 2k?
↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺
starting track….
“i don't want yo n*gga, he needy,”
denki k. ↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺
“oh my god— let me get through the fucking door first.”
“oh, so-you-hate-me-and-you-want-me-to-die,” you silence denki, and his spew of stupidity with a single hand that cups his face and squishes his cheeks together.
he can be cute when he’s being a whiny bitch. the scrunch on his face turns into a pout, so you lay a teeny tiny peck on his lips before pushing him backwards so you can come through the doorway.
he had bitched and moaned all morning, it’s his one day off in the last, like, month, and you’re “leaving me already.”
oh, boo-hoo.
you knew he was gonna try and pull some sneaky shit, some stupid shit, so you took your sweet time coming home from work.
but your boy was antsy.
practically itching himself like an addict, rocking himself back and forth, all fucking day, waiting for you to get home.
you take a peak into the kitchen, at least he cleaned, no dishes in the sink, floor mopped, some leftovers on the stove for you, what a cutie.
but you don’t even get that far.
you don't even get to eat.
why should you, you didn’t let him eat this morning.
arguably, it's his fault for not waking up early enough to treat you before you left. you’re not the late type. well you can be, but you like sleeping so much your morning routine has been carefully crafted so that you have the bare minimum amount of time needed to get ready when you get up. and if he thought his little, annoying, blonde ass self, was going to disrupt that, he should think again.
so you left him like that, hard, pouting, itchy for five more minutes of your touch.
tough, fucking, luck.
you can’t indulge him, you give him an inch and he’ll take a fucking mile. you let him have one ‘last little smooch before you leave’ and then your panties are off before you even realise.
he’s always been like that. the worst combination of greed, always greedy, always hungry, and being so, what’s the word…charming, that he’s able to talk you into whatever he wants 99% of the time.
so you put your foot down, for once, and he’s so used to being spoiled.
annoying brat.
blowing up your phone the whole day, he missed you, missed you so bad he just had to send you twenty different pictures of his leaky dick.
flushed, pink, angry at you for leaving it in this state, and he always says his hands aren’t as nice, not as soft, they don’t know him as well as yours do.
“missed you so fucking much,” he murmurs into your ear, hands skirting round to feel up your chest. you’re still in your work clothes, sweaty from the day and from the journey home.
missed you? you can tell.
his hard, aching, cock slots itself into the crease of your ass, as he rocks back and forth, so fucking greedy. you haven’t even taken your shoes off yet, you’re still holding your bag, he can’t be serious.
you spin round and grab his face, again, and sneer, “i saw you this morning, stop fucking around.”
but that doesn’t do much to deter him, it makes it worse if anything. eyes misting over at the tone of your voice, the bite, the exasperation, and the way your soft fingers grip him, with force, with control.
he’s so fucking hard.
and you, his poor, exhausted, darling. so angry. so fed up.
he knows how to make you feel better.
lays you out flat on the couch, peppers your skin with apologies, with thanks. thanks for letting him touch you, thanks for being his, thanks for how, fucking, good you smell.
he inhales at the junction of your neck when he kisses you there, he thinks you can’t tell. the scent of your skin, the honeyed warmth of whatever body lotion you use, the traces of perfume, and of you.
you, you, you.
your sweat, your skin, it’s some crazy pheromone bullshit the way it makes his cock ache. god, he wants to smell you everywhere, wants to taste you everywhere, wants to lap up every inch of your skin, of your flesh, wants to lick it all up and drown in it.
pulling down your bottoms with haste, denki's fingers slide the fabric all the way down so it pools at your ankles, and stuffs his face into your panty-clad crotch so he can take a deep inhale.
fuuuuck.
shit, shit, he couldn’t put it into words, the way your scent makes his brain melt, slip out of his ears, flooding his senses with you and only you. he’s exactly where he wants to be, with you resting on your elbows and glaring down at him like he’s some sort of nuisance, like a pest, he has to restrain himself from making a mess all over the couch, again. instead focusing on making a mess out of you.
he mouths at your clothed pussy, slobbering all over the fabric, teasing your clit with his tongue, the dulled pressure making your toes curl as your legs come to wrap around his shoulders, and one hand fists his hair to push him deeper, closer.
you tsk at him like he’s a misbehaving dog, “if you’re gonna do it,” another shove of his head, “do it properly.”
you think he’s nodding, or maybe that just the movement of his tongue, lapping at the fabric, soaking your slit so your pussy clings to it, like he’s trying his best to suck out your juices from the damp cotton.
“nasty bastard,” the words are harsh, but the tone is breathless, a soft sigh, as you card your fingers through his soft blonde locks, twisting the hair around the digits, nails scratching at his scalp, “can’t even lemme have dinner first, huh?” punctuated by a yank of his head so he can face you.
his dazed amber eyes meet yours as he giggles, “m’sorry babe, m’gonna make it up to you, yeah?" as he kisses the crease of your thighs, over the fabric, below the fabric, "y’gonna let me? lemme make you feel good,” he murmurs into the soft creamy flesh of your inner thighs, leaving bruises in his wake.
“c’monnn,” he’s so hot when he’s trying to convince you to let him give you pleasure, “c’mon mama, it’ll be so good,” he kisses at your stomach, staring up at you, fake innocent puppy dog eyes that make you pulse, “just lemme have this first, then i’ll fix you a plate.”
“ain’t shit sweet but the pussy he eating,”
hanta s. ↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺
it’s been a long day.
same routine, same business as usual but, for some reason, it hits him so much harder today.
he feels it every time he moves. in his shoulders first, that dull pull from overusing his tape all day, elbows stiff from swinging between buildings for hours straight, thighs sore from landing wrong one too many times. there’s a nasty knot in his lower back that’s been there since some concrete support beam nearly pancaked him during a rescue op last winter, and he's been skipping his physio.
that’s the feeling. the deep, marrow-level ache that settles into your bones after years of throwing your body around a city that never fucking sleeps.
his day started before sunrise, and he had to creep out of bed at four am. because his agency got called in for traffic management after some villain tore through the motorway barriers during a police chase. then paperwork, then patrol, then a proper emergency downtown.
he had to keep his head on straight for that, collapsed scaffolding, trapped civilians, tape anchored around snapped steel beams while emergency crews yelled directions over each other.
but now he's done, now he can rest for the day, now he can go home and have a sweet treat.
your thighs bracketing his head, his mouth moves like he’s starving. he’s been thinking about this all day. about you. about your juicy pussy. he tallied every hour at work, counted down every single minute until he could come home and eat.
“fuuuck, lemme get in there.”
he’s worked all day for this, tirelessly, dutifully, protecting the city, protecting civilians, and this is his reward. this is what he deserves.
“don’t even think about it sweetheart,” when you flinch, when you try to squirm out of his grip, how could you even think about leaving, not when needs you this badly. and god does he need you. needs your sloppy cunt all over his face. needs to rub his nose against your throbbing clit, needs you dripping down his chin, he wants to drown in it.
hanta’s on his knees.
as soon as he walked through the door he collapsed here, face first into your sweet pussy. mouth salivating, his body rutting against the bottom of the couch, he really has been thinking about this all day, about the meaty flesh of your thighs wrapping around his head and suffocating him. and now that he’s here, finally, it feels like he’s in a dream.
a dazed, drunken state, his shaggy black hair shaking with every movement of his mouth, of his tongue bullying its way in between your puffy pussy lips. and then his lips latch onto your clit, one harsh suck, and you’re spilling more and more of your delicious pussy juice into his greedy mouth.
it’s so fucking sweet, his fingers bruise the side of your thighs, he can barely hear you, hear how you whimper, hear how you moan for him, with how your thighs are acting as earmuffs. it’s a shame really, and he considers, briefly, on changing positions, just so he can hear the way your voice cracks when you call out his name. but he prefers this. prefers how easy it is to drink up each wave of cream that gushes out of you. and he likes how he can feel your legs shake like this, how you foot kicks at his back on a particularly malicious flick of his tongue. he likes how you anchor yourself onto him, how much you need him, how you've been craving this, the feeling of his mouth slurping up every last drop, just as much as he has.
if he passed out, right here, like this, and you got up, or moved, he would gain conscious back just to tell you to leave him there. he wants you to keep him here always, he's nothing but an instrument for your pleasure, he's nothing except what you need, a mouth, a tongue, some fingers. the desire to make you feel good is all consuming.
and he's so messy with it, so hungry and loud, god it's embarrassing, the wet smacks of his lips echoing throughout the room and intermingling with the shattered moans he’s pulling out of you. when you grip his hair, like a handle for a rollercoaster ride you can't stop, when you pull on it, he let's out a deep appreciating rumble that vibrates its way up your spine. his nose bumping against your clit, soaking his face in your essence, your scent infiltrating his brainwaves, making him stutter in his movements, making him drool.
the scratch of the stubble scattered across the surface of his chin rubs your pussy raw in the most delicious way. sends tingles all the way down to your toes, which in turn causes you to dig your heels into hanta’s sturdy back, which causes the cycle to repeat itself.
you could stay here forever, both of you blissed out after a long day. your back pressed into the couch by the firmness of his grip, the guardian of your pleasure, his big palms allow you to crumble into him and, well,
your pussy really is that sweet.
@kamislop @dotalicious @lonelyfooryouonly @tsushimimi @tokkushin @updownandbatty @realbadgyalll
Bromitaaa
