#mha thirst

[tallglssflemons]

katsukiwill not let you look away during missonary, the pisiotion is intense and paticually intimate and instict has you wanting to look away but he won't let you, he will say "look at me" while he’s buried deep inside you, his hands pinned over yours, forcing you to watch where his cock pushes in and out of you making sure you can see and feel every inch of him.

[tentypos]

mdni!!!!!!

fuckass toxic situationship! sero:

because he left you on delivered for two days. which, ok, fine, isn’t horrible, you know that, but also, he goes low, you go lower.

so, you don’t answer his calls for two weeks.

who does he think he is turning up at your place uninvited. but he has weed, and takeout, cmonnnnn, just let him in, he’s saying sorry, never mind the fact that you saw snaps of him at the club last saturday. he’s already on your couch, pulling up your netflix, making himself at home.

but his phone keeps going off, because he didn’t silence his notifications on purpose. he wanted you to see, to hear, to ask ‘who’s calling?’

he wanted to do this, to shrug his shoulders, a bored faced, ‘…nobody.’ it’s why he not-so-subtly flipped his phone over so you couldn’t see the screen. ‘you’re such a fucking asshole, hanta’.

this is too easy, all he has to do is roll his eyes lazily, wave you off with a smirk, tell you, you’re being dramatic, and you’ve already got your hand fisting at the hair on the nape of his head. he can’t help but smile, right in your face, you’re spewing on and on, about how he can’t treat you like this and, who do you think you are? you piece of shit. heh. sure, sure, is that why you’re grinding down onto his clothed cock?

‘cos you hate him that much, right?

why don’t you use him, get yourself off on his dick, better yet, don’t even let him cum, just bounce on it, squirt all over his boxers, and then, tell him to fuck off and go home.

the thought of you kicking him out like that makes him spurt a little, fuck he’s so nasty, his eyes are glazed over as you tell him just how much you hate him. god it’s infuriating, and it’s the exact reason as to why you can’t ever move forward with him. he’s too much of a fucking freak, you always end up just getting him off instead.

like that one time you called him seething when he forgot to pick you up, because he was too busy playing counter strike, and you were on the phone all, ‘what the fuck is wrong with you?’ and, ‘you always do this’ and he already had his cock out, stroking it in time with your words and whimpering down the microphone.

he’s good for nothing except getting your rocks off. and he knows that, why the fuck do you think he even came here in the first place. he missed your pussy, and the way you slap him if he can get you heated enough.

[takami-takami]

Best Friend!Hawks who has his first kiss with you, all puppy love, smiles, and sweetness, on one of the countless nights your toxic boyfriend makes you cry. It burns you up how gentle he is in comparison to everything you’ve ever known, how pillowy and tender to a heart fed on a diet of scorpion strikes— now, “is this okay? Can I? God, sweetpea, you’re shaking. S’okay, he can’t hurt you anymore. I love you so much. Say it back?”

Best Friend!Hawks who doesn’t feel a lick of guilt when that fateful night becomes a habit, when your lips crash together the second his hero costume coat hits the floor each time the sun dies out. If you ask Keigo, your boyfriend should have been a little more concerned about you moving in with your best friend, honestly. If Keigo was in his shoes, in possession of rather than haunted by a pretty little thing like you, he’d be clinging to you like a damn apparition. Whatever, it doesn’t matter. He has you now. What good luck, huh? He can bite any leftover irritation out of your lips, suck your saliva down like a balm and feel his worries melt away with you in his arms.

Best Friend!Hawks who feels your love beating through his veins like electricity when he perches atop the highest city skylines after patrol. No view compares to you. The air breezes through his hair, you engulf his thoughts, and as he touches his lips in faint yet vivid memory with gloved hands, Keigo can’t help but feel a giddy thrill bubble in his chest. He should buy you flowers. He never asks himself if your boyfriend does these sorts of things for you. He knows. You prattle on and on about him and his lack of effort to your best friend Keigo, strewn across his lap atop your shared couch. His fingers brush against your hair while you speak, dancing along the skin of your forehead and intent on conveying affection with each and every stroke. Yeah, he nods. Keigo’s gonna buy you flowers.

Best Friend!Hawks who holds your sobbing form in his lap, all crumpled and safe, while he calls up your boyfriend and rips his throat out for every cruel and irreverent thing he ever said and did to you. He breaks down the man’s self esteem in the way only a bird of prey could, with the surgical incision of a sterling silver tongue. Why should Keigo have to hold himself back? It's not like your bastard little boyfriend ever had the decency to bite his tongue when it came to you. His wings fan out to brush the ceiling like a reflex despite knowing they won’t be witnessed. When Keigo hears the poor sap’s voice break— it’s pure, intoxicating, burning satisfaction.

Boyfriend!Hawks who goes down on you while you break up with your ex over the phone. He listens to it all, smiling against your sex with pride at the tiger lacing your voice as he sips down your essence like the tea gracing his ears. His heart swells at how solid you sound, now. All his hard work shows, finally mirrored in the confidence and indignance that shakes your body— well, you’re probably shaking for a much different reason, now, Keigo thinks at particularly harsh suck. Took you long enough, Keigo smirks. Get his ass, baby.

[adoringmha]

izuku likes it gooey (sorry in advance) mdni nsfw • @marsaplanet has me thinking abt how freaky izu is

yk how you always get wetter when you’re bare, pussy acting like it doesn’t know how to contain itself, always calling for attention? although izuku likes loves your bush, he also loves when your pussy’s constantly leaking and gooey. when you let him know you’ve gotten waxed/shaved/whatever completely, his pants start to get tight, body activating like a sleeper agent. because when you’re like this? you barely see an actual chair, the only seat you get is his face. he’s under you 24/7, making you sit so everything leaks into his mouth directly, moaning and whimpering against you while he drinks it all up. wakes you up w his mouth between your thighs, taking in your morning musk and overnight taste like an animal and puts you to sleep the exact same way.

[katacreme]

you needed a new top

“c’mon, it can’t look that bad.”

“that’s not the-” you couldn’t see it through the walls of the dressing room but Shinso’s stretching smile was palpable as your voice trailed off.

“. . hol’ on, what’s that supposed to mean?”

the top isn’t even special. soft yet firm fabric that curves off the shoulders and dips into thick bell sleeves, which sit a bit too loose on the wrist; small straps lining the open back, a deep cut that shows far too much back for your liking.

“rarely do you just make a decision— and you ask for my opinion any other time, so I don’t get why this would be different?” his voice, velvet undertones and all, sounds soft behind the locked door. “plus, you’re not what I’d call a “fashionista”.”

“and you are, mister just-put-a-silver-chain-on—?“

you refuse to acknowledge the jolt that ran through your body at the sudden thud against the door. though you chortle at the small show of anger.

“jus’— let me in before I make a scene.”

“you are the scene, you sun-fried tulip,” falls off the tongue naturally. “why you wanna see it so bad, anyway? it ain’t even your style.”

he doesn’t answer this time.

of course.

you roll your eyes, looking into the mirror a final time, ultimately deciding it goes in the “no” pile.

the front falls in your hands right as your ears perk at the sound of the door handle jiggling.

the store attendants would knock or announce themselves before trying to gain entry, and you know it’s not a stranger— not with that lofty, broad-shouldered panther prowling at the door.

if those guns weren’t enough of a deterrent, that mug certainly is.

you look on through the mirror for what feels like forever, chest cinching with every turn, and in that moment you think back; unsure if you’d actually locked it or not.

you call out to him anyway. “Hitoshi?”

“I’m coming in.”

“the hell you are, nig—“ you catch yourself, sputtering at his audacity. “boy, i am changing!”

“happy for you.” light bounces off the glass and on your face once the door finally gives way to the purple haired menace.

you don’t miss the ends of his hair brushing the head of the door.

“it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” oh, you could punch him.

“that was one time, years ago and you weren’t even supposed to be there,” you whisper yell, clutching the top to your chest, close to showing your teeth. “you know how bad this looks? what about your image?”

you can already feel your brain swell, going mad as it calculates the hundreds of ways this could backfire go for either of you should someone want to get trigger happy with their camera.

the door shuts behind him with a deafening silence and unconsciously, you start to edge over to one of the more darker corners.

“you think I don’t know how to check for—“

you know your body’s changed a lot since middle school. both in ways you enjoyed and ways you haven’t. you grew to like the fat in your cheeks, the roundness of your stomach, how soft you felt.

but, brief as it was, you could say with confidence it has never received a look like that—

not from him.

“put it on.”

your nails dig into the cotton as he takes a step closer.

then another.

and another.

and another, until he stands a few inches away.

bemused with your back to the wall, you blink up at him, hyper-cognizant of the energy sparking between you.

how big he must be to block most of the light with his frame alone-

“go on,” he tilts his head as if he needs more leverage to stare you down, and it takes a great deal of restraint to steel your nerves when you see the glint in his eyes shine tenfold. “i’ll help you.”

Shinsō’s expression isn’t quite angry or happy. Not a smile or frown in sight, the closest thing being a brief twitch of the lips, perhaps a muddied mess of the two.

“my hero . . .”

you shuffle a little, snark coming out floatier than you wanted.

like starting an old car, even though it’s mere feet away, it takes awhile to reach the mirror.

your eyes can’t help but draw back to him, presence almost foreboding in the reflective glass.

there’s a nervousness to your movements, heart going close to a mile a minute, staving off the quakes as best as you could.

cat-scratched hands smooth up your arms with a purpose it seems, laboriously slow in their movements as they take in your shakiness until your wrists are fully embraced.

they pull forward, carefully revealing the bandeau you’d put on before you left the house.

opening your eyes (when had they closed?) you startle to see he’s looking dead at you, absolutely shameless in his visual exploration even as he takes the top out your grasp.

“the hell would you do without me?” it hardly comes out, it’s so low and warm.

you just stare, afraid of what’ll slip should you attempt to speak.

he slips your arms in with a delicacy you rarely see him offer to humans— a true cat person at heart— you feel like a cherished doll.

he moves from your face to your back, thankfully saying nothing about the way your spine straightens under his gaze.

you try not to dawdle on how or why he’s able to lace it up as quick as he does, a pretty easy feat once he finishes up, patting the middle of your back in an assuring manner.

still staring ahead, you watch in silence as he rests his chin on your crown.

watch him watch you.

mooring his eyes to your soul, those sturdy fingers snake from your lumbar to the fat of your waist, calluses catching every jitter. heavy breaths massage the curve of your spine and you feel blood rushing to your skull when the other set sits just below your ribs.

it’s too much.

“‘toshi?”

his nose flares, like he’s restraining himself; a hypothesis that proves true as his hands begin to knead sporadically.

your neck grows heavier and heavier, eyelids eventually following suit, until you’re falling into his chest.

“I was wrong,” you can’t tell if he’s murmuring to you or himself.

the declaration weighs heavy in the confined space, and for a moment, you wonder how none of the associates have noticed his absence.

“. . . don’t look bad at all.”

needless to say, you end up buying the top.

[yujivrs]

* NOT YET, BABY

thirst. vibrating panties for christmas was a mistake.

contains. bakugou / exhibitionism, teasing, dirty talk, edging.

—

you’re not sure how katsuki managed to rope you into this situation, though you had to admit it, he was a very convincing man. the tension in the air was palpable, the dimly lit restaurant almost eerily quiet, but that only seemed to add to your arousal as you pressed your knees together in desperation—hoping for any kind of pressure to release the throbbing deep in your core.

your eyes flicker up to his bright red ones, desperation in yours and obvious amusement in his. your plush lips part in an attempt to cuss him out but a whimper escapes instead, replacing the venom you were about to spew as he presses on the tiny remote in his hand, “hngh—”

the sudden vibrations between your legs sends shivers down your spine and your body immediately tenses at the feeling though you don’t get to relish in the pleasure for long as katsuki’s voice brings you back to reality, you’re still in public.

“shush, quiet down, doll.” he says in a low, mocking tone. his eyes dart around to the tables surrounding you two before he continues, “wouldn’t want us to get caught now, would you?”

there’s a cheeky grin on his face that an outsider might view as playfulness, but you know it’s something else. a set of footsteps behind him manage to catch his attention and he straightens out, posturing his usual unreadable expression.

it was your server for the evening. his words barely register in your ear as he goes on to talk about the specials of the night, your heart pounds in their place. you thought the arrival of a random bystander would make him back down, but katsuki was never one to be scared of risks, you should’ve known that by now.

you give him a harsh glare, he made it clear that was the wrong move as he presumably ups the intensity with another click of the button.

you manage to stifle the moan that fights to escape. your legs shaking as you pretend to look over the menu in front of you, your fingers gripping the edge of the thick, black cover.

you can feel yourself getting wetter, your cunt practically dripping. all you can do is squirm and hope to god nobody hears the buzzing that’s coming from between your thighs.

“baby?” katsuki’s gravelly voice brings you back momentarily. you manage to hum out a soft, “hm?”

you run your fingers through your hair, the few strands that slightly sticking to your forehead.

“are you good with that?” he asks with a toothy grin and you quickly nod in response, wanting to get rid of this waiter that’s seemingly been here for ages.

“mhm, s-sounds perfect.” you whisper back, voice soft and breathy.

you shift in your seat and you can feel yourself barrelling closer to the edge, the vibrator in your pussy suddenly right at the spot you need it to be. you clench your eyes shut, waiting to ride the waves of pleasure as it builds. your toes curl, thighs tense, and back arches before your orgasm is ripped out of your grasp by a thoroughly entertained katsuki.

“not yet, baby.” he leans in, hands reaching out to hold yours. his thumb lovingly runs over your knuckles, a huge contrast to the filthy words escaping his mouth.

“the only thing you’re allowed to cum on tonight is my cock.”

[tang3r1n]

chubby darling sitting and rambling abt anatomy and how insane the human body is, literally talking so animatedly while her obsessor is just sitting there like ‘oh i’m gonna fuck her so hard once she shuts the fuck up’

my picks; EREN, jean, erwin, ymir, PORCO (aot), aizawa, DABI, mature tomura, momo, katsuki(?), izuku, mr compress, spinner, HAWKS, miruko (mha), ushijima, IWAZUMI, KUROO, kageyama, tsukkishima, aone (haikyuu), GOJO FUCKING SATORU, toji, nanami(?), miguel, i rly wanna say megumi, maki, heian sukuna, TODO AOI, and fuck it inumaki too (jjk), ROANOA ZORO, robin, sanji, sir croc, FUCKING LAW HED GEEK W YOU, uhhh luffy, kidd, penguin, coby (op) WHITNEY, c.sydney, alex, avery(?? iffy), rrrrobin?? (dol), plus all ur favorites <3

[tteokdoroki]

☆༉ — KATSUKI BAKUGOU. what’s one more?

about. now that your kids are all grown up, you’ve gotten to thinking about having another baby with bakugou again.

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, suggestive and smutty, fluffy, some dub-con, baby-trapping mention, breeding, unprotected sex mention, reader is a mother, bakugou is getting old hehe, they have three daughters lol, fem!reader, pro hero!bakugou.

i imagine that when your kids get a little older and start becoming more independent — your eldest in their final year of U.A, the middle starting U.A and the youngest still kicking in middle school….you catch a whiff of baby fever again.

it’s not even that everyone around you is having kids, most of theirs are well into their teenage years and giving your old friends trouble. it’s more that you miss the tiny pitter patter of feet throughout your house, the gummy giggles and scent of baby safe soap. oddly enough, you find yourself yearning for the late night feeds and the laughter shared over the inherent explosive bakugou diaper bombs.

speaking of your husband, you kind of hate how good he is with kids. he’s always treated your daughters like princesses, spoiling them rotten and raising their standards so that no possible crush could ever compare to the way their daddy treats them. but he’s so tender with the littler ones he visits as part of hero work, the tiny fans that ask him to sign his trading cards or their backpacks.

it’s adorable and still warms your heart to this day. to the point where you’re jumping bakugou’s bones every chance you get without actually telling him you want another one of his big headed babies. of course, he’s only a man and he’s not going to question why is wife of nearly two decades keeps presenting to him like a bitch in heat after lights out and the kids are asleep.

perhaps that’s why bakugou doesn’t question (on the one night where you have a child-free house) the way you toss away the condom, the way you take it raw and clench down on his cock like your life depends on it. why you squeal all high-pitched for him to fill you up with tears in your pretty eyes — how could he say no to you?

his pretty little wife, his lover, hot piece of ass to love and fuck to his hearts content.

what good, loving man isn’t going to cum in his wife when she begs and cries for it?

it’s not until your trained and doughy thighs lock around his slender waist to pull him into your frothing sex that bakugou realises. you’re doing this on purpose.

and by the time he does realise, he’s filling you up to the brim, sloppy white leaking out of you while you cum around him just like you always do — taking him so well, smiling up at him like you’re on top of the world.

“you fuckin’ leg locked me!” katsuki pants through amused laughter, collapsing on top of you with a sweaty and heaving chest.

“nuh-uh!” comes your quick reply, angling your hips up so that he slips deeper into you.

katsuki gets up soon after and disappears to the bathroom, not before prying your legs off of him — knowing full well he had the strength to do so earlier. if he really wanted to. “my own wife… you tried to fuckin’ baby trap me!”

“no i didn’t!” you pout defensively, brows furrowed and nose upturned. your expression only softens when your husband gives you a pointed look and moves to wipe the mess drying against your inner thighs. “okay…so what if i did?”

you loop your arms around his neck with a purr, toying with the silvery-blonde baby hairs on the back of katsuki’s neck and looking up at him with vixen eyes like you’re about to devour your prey. “we can not have another baby,” he tells you simply, kissing the crown of your head when you hiss at the sensitivity. “was i too rough?”

there’s a rasp to his voice, the kind that’s only prominent after hours of singing your praises in the bedroom. it makes you smile, close your eyes in content, and shake your head ‘no’. “why not?”

“havin’ a baby isn’t like gettin’ a puppy ‘nd you know that, sweetness,” bakugou hums quietly, soothing over the bruises he’d left on the soft handles on your waist. he thumbs at the stretch marks and tigers stripes, the very markings that show you were a mother to three of his beauties children. “we gotta focus on makin’ sure kasumi gets into a good agency, if not mine, and don’t get me started on the other two—“

“—but we could do it. right? i mean we’ve done it three times before. raised a baby, what’s one more?” you do your best to sound convincing while you sit up and cling to your man, pleading with those puppy dog eyes that got you knocked up the first time almost eighteen years ago. “don’t you want a little boy?”

“three girls are more than enough.” bakugou pushes your face away playfully, forcing you back into the sheets so he can lie on top of you. “we’re not as young—“ he starts, but back tracks after being on the receiving end of your heated glare. “i’m not as young as i was when we had our first. ‘n shit, my back hurts and my eyes are gettin’ bad, and our kids… they’re exhaustin’, babe.”

the both of you share a laugh. upon brushing a hand through his hair, katsuki trills happily at your affection. “you’re still a good dad. you’d be an even better to our next. even if you’re a little achey in the knees, old man.” though you’re teasing, you really do mean every word you say. raising your kids has been trial and error from the start, but bakugou’s been strong the entire way through — wanting nothing but the best for his family and always putting them first. “plus, the kids are with the kirishimas for an entire weekend, and you’re telling me you haven’t thought about fucking me raw again?”

“jesus woman, you’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, aren’t you?” katsuki twitches against your leg once again, crawling up your body to capture your lips in a hungry, syrupy kiss. “you’re right,” he groans against them, loving the feeling of your tongue on his. “fuck, you’re right. spread your legs, sweetness. wanna fill this pretty pussy with my cum.”

“yes daddy…” you mewl in reply while a winning grin tacks itself to your lips l face between uncoordinated kisses and surprised moans once your husband eases his throbbing cock back inside of your tight heat. mumbling something about how it feels like home.

needless to say, neither of you are surprised when the next pregnancy test you take is positive. now you just have to explain the baby supplies in your Amazon basket to your three teenage girls.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.