spheixrie

[spheixrie]

bakugou hated defeat. he was never one to forfeit anything. if he could challenge the ocean to a battle, he would and sincerely believe he’d win.

once, he admits defeat to the universe and chooses to let you slip through his fingers.

when he began to fall in love with your sweet manner, delicate touch, warm smile and witty behavior, he also began to hate himself.

he hated the way he was when it came to feelings. he knew he wasn’t able to express his emotions like a good boyfriend should. he was intolerable, insufferable. something that couldn’t have mixed with you.

love was a foreign concept to him, something he couldn’t grasp but something he desperately wished for deep down, no matter how many times he brushed it off or ridiculed the idea.

bakugou knew love wasn’t designed for him, and he wasn’t ever going to let his silly imagination deceive him otherwise.

but, he knows his heart never stands a chance. especially tonight when he finds you on the terrace of ua. the night-sky wrapped the area in its darkness, the crescent moon illuminating the brightest color it could, and the silent night bringing the greatest solitude it could.

bakugou attempts to leave you be, but your eyes find him faster than he originally thought, him being pulled into your magnetic, overwhelming aura.

“hey,” he begins, a slight waver in his voice from his nerves. “not enjoyin’ the party inside?”

you chuckle slightly, waving his question off. “just needed some air.”

bakugou nods in response. he folded his arms over the railing, taking in the scenery around them.

it was the last night for the third years at ua, everyone celebrating their triumphs, losses, friendships. it was the last time they’d be within this building all together, the last time bakugou could silently admire you from afar. he’d always think about his last day there, wondering if he’d be shouting from excitement. he wasn’t close to thinking that he’d feel like his whole world was coming down.

you were planning to travel to the united states to start your hero debut, receiving an offer there that you just couldn’t pass up. he remembered the moment when you told him so vividly. you wore a huge smile, basically jumping out of excitement. that was the first time bakugou came to the realization that he couldn’t have you.

truth be told, he was scared of breaking paths with you. anger, sorrow, fear. you shone a light on all of those emotions. it felt like his anchor was gone. breaking every stable piece off of him one by one.

“so, what’s next for you? don’t think you ever told me your plan.”

in his head, bakugou replies with, that was on purpose. he wanted to remove everything from his mind. go with the flow and live in the moment until it was officially time to get started on his new path of life. but, he figured there was no more time to put it off.

“stay in the city for a bit. kirishima talked about collaboratin’ on an agency, so been givin’ that some consideration.” he replies somberly. “i don’t know really, just gotta find something to keep me busy.”

you echoed bakugou’s action from earlier, nodding to his statement. a small sigh parted your lips, partly from exhaustion, but also from sadness.

“you scared?” it came out as a whisper, as if it was a taboo subject to never touch on, and frankly it was when it came to bakugou.

he waited to respond, pausing for as long as he could before the silence turned uncomfortable.

“yeah.” something so simple but spoke so much considering bakugou would never admit such a thing. “you’ll be okay though. you got an offer some of us wish we could have, and i heard the states has good job opportunities.”

“i don’t wanna go.” first it came out as a mumble, bakugou unsure if he just understood the words that came out of your mouth.

“what?”

“i don’t want to go.” this time, your voice was much more stern.

“the fuck you talkin’ about? you’ve been excited for this shit the day you got the letter, now you don’t wanna go? as if.” he was aware that he came off a little too defensive, mostly to shield his heart from catching a little bit of hope, he didn’t mean to come at you so harshly.

you peeled your eyes away from him, purposely avoiding his eye contact. looking at him seemed more like receiving a scolding from a parent more than anything right now.

“i mean, the united states? i’ll be there alone, no family, no friends. it’s not the money or opportunities i’m concerned about, bakugou. it’s about my happiness.” you explained. “isn’t that something you’re thinking about too?”

bakugou weighs his options. he thinks he has nothing else to lose, but he also considers the fact of you breaking his heart even more than it is. besides, you were smart, he knew you were going to take the offer anyway no matter how bad your nerves were eating you up.

“you can’t think with your heart about things like this, y/n.” he knows he’s an asshole. he knows you’re looking to him for the reassurance you want to hear but he just can’t give it.

“i’m not! i just want to be happy doing the things i love and that’s not possible in an environment i cant stand to be in.”

“you don’t know that yet.”

“i’m getting a pretty good feeling.”

“because you’re scared.”

you shrug, “so what? you don’t know how i feel. you’ll be here with your mom, dad, and all of your friends. i’ll have to start over from scratch in a country i know nothing about.”

he scoffed, his eyes darting away from your figure. “right because you know exactly how i feel.” his tone bled with sarcasm.

“you don’t tell me how you feel for anything, so sorry for taking an educated guess.” you retorted.

“you never ask to begin with.”

“as if you’d even tell me. you think i haven’t noticed you avoiding me these past couple of weeks? you don’t even talk to me anymore.”

now the roles reversed, you stared at him, bakugou not daring to look into your eye.

he shifted in his position, beginning to become uncomfortable. he replayed in his mind what he should’ve done moments ago instead of coming to speak to you.

“nothing to say?” you were playing with fire, not caring that you were poking the bear. “guess that’s not anything new. you just do whatever you want, say whatever you wish without thinking of the other person, because you’re ‘katsuki bakugou’. the man who cares about none other than the title of being the number one hero.”

“that’s not fuckin’ true and you know it.” he snaps his head towards you.

“do i?” your eyes searched his. “maybe a few months ago i would’ve, but you’ve been treating me like an outcast recently. i thought i mattered to you! i thought we were something!”

“what do you want me to say here?”

“i want you to be honest.”

bakugou clenched his teeth, his jaw sharpening from the action. of course he wanted to be with you, there was no other girl that he could imagine being with. but it just couldn’t work. you weren’t made to be with a monster, and he didn’t deserve to enjoy something so sweet as you.

so, bakugou opted to refuse the truth once again, brushing her off.

“you’re just too good for me.” he simply replies. “don’t waste your potential here. go to america.”

bakugou takes no more time to indulge in your erratic behavior, so he leaves you at the terrace, the noise of the party being heard the moment he opened the side door.

he wanted you more than anything. if the universe loved him a little more, then maybe things between you two would work out. but because of his shitty luck and vexatious attitude, you two just didn’t match.

he also knew there was just someone you were bound to fall in love with in america.

bakugou wasn’t going to lead you on to make a stupid decision. even if that meant destroying himself in the process.

the morning after, your name wasn’t to be found on any of his socials, and his messages to you turned green. if he didn’t know before, then he definitely knew now that he burned anything he had with you.

[spheixrie]

I HAVENT BEEN POSTING IN A WHILE OMFG SCHOOL IS KILLING ME

i have no idea what to post so go ahead and recommend any bnha x reader prompts guys

[spheixrie]

Cough

[spheixrie]

A little gift~ 🍎📻

NO REPOST

[spheixrie]

thinking about how well percy jackson would take care of you after a hard training session.

how he’d fuck you slow and deep and oh so good, knowing just where to angle to hips so that the next time he thrusts into you your toes curl. smirking as you weave your fingers into his soft hair, a silent plea for him to go harder.

intertwining your fingers with his, while his other hand presses into the pillow beneath your head, giving him more leverage to speed up the snap of his hips against yours. your eyebrows scrunch up with pleasure and your jaw goes slack as the tip of his cock brushes against your cervix with each push, and you rake your nails down his back toned with muscles, definitely leaving red marks for him to look at in the mirror the next morning.

he groans, dropping his sweaty forehead to rest against yours, bathing in your smell, your sounds. you smile softly up at him, pushing some of his hair out of his face. “my pretty boy” you murmur up to him.

he grins back at you, but his eyes scrunch up as your warm walls contract around him, biting his lip to muffle a moan. you lean your head up and kiss him, muffling each others noises with your mouths as he snakes a hand down your body, running a large palm over your breasts and trailing it down to your stomach, before creeping lower, finding your clit and rubbing tight, fast circles against the bundle of nerves. he grins against your mouth and swallowing your mewls as he works you to your release.

[spheixrie]

Military general! Katsuki and head nurse! reader

cw: minors don’t interact, smut, fingering, penetration, sorta fluffy, sneaky links lol, aged up.

an: i don’t take requests! also i haven’t written bakugou in a while so enjoy a little new sexy lover boy katsuki

“you really need to start taking better care of your soliders,” you state, arms folded with your clipboard against your chest as you walk through the centre of your newest pop up hospital.

you analyse your nurses, stationed at every bed, applying ointment or wrapping up solider after solider in bandages. your comment is for the big headed, arrogant and very grumpy general beside you, also with his arms crossed.

he grunts, typical, and narrows his eyes at every one of his soldiers, “gives me a reason to visit you.”

you ignore the leap of your heart, fighting the urge to look around the room to check if anyone heard. they never do, it’s why you’ve been able to keep whatever this is up for so long.

“let’s try not have forty percent of your men in here just so you have an excuse to see me, general.”

you say it in the same dry tone as him, fingers gripping your clipboard. you don’t turn to look at him, just focused on your office at the end of the hall. almost there.

“i bet you get wet at the sight of all these men coming in knowing i’m gonna be behind them all.”

your eyes widen. he’s got the worst mouth you’ve ever heard on a man. you only manage your hand on the door handle to your office before he swings it open wider to fit you both through, then pushes you with his hips to get you in. he shuts the door behind him swiftly in silence.

now you really get to see him with mostly all of your guards down. arousal hums through your body. he towers over you stupidly, arms long enough to wrap around your body in a lock and chest so wide there’s no way anyone’s seeing you from behind.

he doesn’t follow the recommended military general uniform unless it’s an award ceremony so you’re very happily stuck with him in a black knitted bulletproof jumper, black cargos and black leather boots.

gorgeous. he’s a very gorgeous man. stubble littering his sharp, sharp jaw, one gold hoop earring on his left ear and unruly blonde hair that looks styled but you know it’s not. (you’ve been with him when he’s woken up and yeah, it’s like that.)

“you’re so irritating,” you curse, setting down your clipboard on your table behind you. you lean on the edge, your arms resting behind you. the position allows his red eagle eyes to gaze down your body. you stick to uniform rules, though you add your own twists. buttoning up your white nurse jacket with a black tank top underneath and opting for tight jeans instead of the knee length skirt.

“yeah? you’re beautiful,” a grin is sneaking onto his face and you roll your eyes so you miss it. they’re killer, his grins, and you know he’s aware of their power. especially as he steps towards you and places a large paw like hand on your waist.

“i’m really beginning to think you send your soldiers out there to get killed so you can visit more often,” you whisper, your lower half warming up rapidly at the feel of his body so close to yours.

he chuckles and you think you might be the only one here who’s ever heard it, “what’re you gonna do with a dead man? just lightly injured, angel.”

you arch your head as he ducks down to press kisses along your neck. you sigh softly and he grips your hips harder in return.

“angel? that’s new?”

he hums on your neck, pressing his groin into your stomach. your arms wrap around his neck to pull him in closer, your heart racing. he’s addictive and the building urge to have him now is shaking through your body.

“once i woke up on one of your beds and thought you were one. suits you.”

his voice is equal parts harsh and sweet, carrying a matter of fact tone that you love. he makes it obvious, his attraction to you, like of course he thinks you’re angelic and gorgeous and—

“what’re you thinkin’ about?” he mumbles pulling away from your neck to press a kiss to your cheek, then another.

bakugou licks a stripe across his plump bottom lip, eyeing your lips then your eyes. fuck. he’s gorgeous.

“you, stupid,” you laugh breathlessly, scratching the back of his head lightly.

“me?” and there it is, the unknown bakugou katsuki grin in full bloom. in another world, where he wasn’t a head general of an army and you weren’t the head nurse of an army, you’d see this every night from your bed. “i’m a lucky man.”

you only get him on the odd time in your office though.

“yeah, whatever. are we gonna have sex or not?” you tilt your head and finally he kisses your lips. two pecks before he focuses on your bottom lip. tugging it with his teeth then tilting his head to slip his tongue into your mouth.

his dick is hard against your stomach and any longer, you’re about to start whining for him. bakugou can feel your impatience, he knows you too well at this point so he lifts you onto your desk and you know to unbutton your jeans.

it’s a messy affair, his lips never leaving your skin while he helps you undress. you unbuttoning your jacket and throwing it somewhere behind you to leave you in your black tank top and your blue laced thong.

he separates his lips from yours to glance down.

bakugou rubs his top lip against the bottom of his nose, his hands making home on your thighs. he looks impressed, satisfied with just the sight of you, “sexy. missed her, y’know.”

“shut up, bakugou,” you roll your eyes again because you cannot deal with him on the best of days, especially not when he can purely seduce you with his words and you need a level head when dealing with a military general.

“you’re testy today, angel,” he chuckles, grabbing the fabric of your underwear and yanking it off. “sorry, you can’t be loud for me today.”

he compliments his comment with two large fingers pushing into your centre, an easy way for your back to arch and your arms to circle around his neck.

you take a sharp breath, your forehead resting under his chin. his fingers slide in and out of you with ease at the same pace he does with his dick. “c’mon, angel.”

he curls his fingers, brushing the tips against your walls and then your eyes begin to close. “oh, bakugou,” you whisper and he keeps going.

it makes you delirious. whatever heaven should be, like that. pleasure spreads like wildfire through the rest of your body and he knows from how tight you hold him you need more.

“you, i want you now,” you mumble, your hand sliding down his body to feel at his clothed dick.

bakugou does what he’s told, he can’t help it with you. you groan at the feeling of his fingers leaving you but you zone in at his glistening fingers making their way between his lips. he licks his fingers clean, humming lowly at your taste.

“i’ll eat you out later. when you’re not beggin’ for my cock.”

you frown but it holds no weight, “have i told you you’re annoying?”

he begins to unbutton his jeans and you watch like a sniper. “yeah but you won’t in a few seconds. patience.”

he only shoves his jeans down mid thigh, grabbing the neck of his jumper to tug it off. your hands are quick on his chest, his pecs, his sides. he’s so smooth, so beautiful, dips and curves of his body.

“bakugou,” you whine and you don’t mean to say his name in that tone, but you can’t help it.

“patience, angel,” he whispers, pulling down his black boxers to finally pull out his cock.

and what a pretty cock it is. standing slightly curved to the left, thick and with three veins running up. his head is round and bulbous, you’re feigning for it between you. all of him inside you.

unlike what you thought before, bakugou is always soft at the beginning, like he thinks he’ll always be too big for you. one hand sits at your hips as he holds the base of his cock. he taps against your clit twice and you circle your arms around his waist to bring him closer.

“bakugou,” you plead again and that’s enough for him to sink into you completely.

“fuck,” he grunts as if he’s in pain. he’s the opposite. “how do you always feel like this?”

bakugou pulls you towards him so your ass is on the edge of the desk. “you good?” he whispers, body curled over yours.

you tap his back twice, always a good sign, and circle your legs around his hips. “yes, yes, obviously.”

bakugou chuckles roughly, “always wanna fight with me.”

then he starts. thrust after thrust, the thickness of dick stretching you unbelievably so. it’s delightful, only pleasure coursing through you as his dick rocks in and out.

you bite down on his shoulder, the only way for you not to moan aloud. you jump when his thumb finds your clit and you’re only moving for hedonistic reasons. tilting your hips so he can rub at your clit. pushing his head down to your face to envelop him in a dirty, wet kiss.

it’s all a lot. it always is with him. the sneaking around, the inappropriate comments in public. him begging you for a kiss when you finish mending his broken arm. the way he acts so different around you then anybody else.

now, when he’s rubbing you to completion in just the way you like with his tongue rubbing against yours and his cock buried deep inside of you.

there’s no annoyingly flirtatious comment, you both come just like that. both of you freeze, limp against each other as you come. then he jolts a few times pumping into you with his thumb pressing down on your clit.

“fuck, angel,”

“oh bakugou,”

there’s a few seconds, maybe twenty or thirty of you both just laying on each other for balance.

bakugou’s first to move, kissing your forehead and untangling your legs from his hips to pull himself out. “you okay? where’s your big ass water bottle?”

he glances around the room for it while you press your cheek against his pectorals and your arms wrap around his waist. “it’s not that big.”

“it’s literally half the size of my arm.”

“your arms aren’t that big.”

“angel, who’s side are you on?”

bakugou spots it across the room and instead of untangling himself from you, he just carries you with his hand under your ass.

“here’s your big ass bottle.”

you don’t say thank you, just ripping it from his hand and sucking on the straw. he knows you too well, that you’re always extremely thirsty after sex and your aftercare comes in cuddles.

when you’re done you offer it to him though he settles you back on the table to unscrew the top so he can drink straight from the bottle.

“you’re so dramatic.”

bakugou just shrugs and you study his adam’s apple as he swallows. he knows you’re staring without even looking so he pokes your side.

“hey!”

you’re about to bite back when there’s a rap of knuckles at the door.

“general,” kirishima; the deputy general, your most frequent visitor and your sneaky link’s closest, speaks on the other side. how did he know bakugou would be in here? but looking at bakugou he just groans, flinging his head back, “i’m guessing you’re in here with yn. hey yn. katsuki, they need you at front so hurry up whatever you’re doing, thanks!”

you hear him stomp away so you look up to bakugou with a tiny smile. you pat his chest, “you heard him, off you pop.”

“they can wait, lemme clean you up.” he offers but you’re off the table grabbing a clean wipe before he can.

“your army awaits, general. they’re probably gonna call me soon, too.” you busy yourself because this leaving part is always so weird. it’s not like he’s yours. not a boyfriend that kisses you before he goes to work in the morning, leaving you alone in bed. instead, he’s leaving you half naked in your office and you’re both going to pretend this never happened.

bakugou steps right into your space, his finger finding your chin for you to glance up. “angel, have dinner with me. sit beside me later on, yeah?”

you know you must look like a puppy. shiny eyes, staring up at this man like he offered you a bone.

“erm okay. sure.”

bakugou nods, kissing your cheek harshly but that’s just how he kisses your cheek. “i’ll be thinking about you.” then he grins, “i always do.”

you’re back to normal, shaking your head at him. “shut up, general.”

he fixes himself up before leaving. tugging on his jumper and buttoning up his jeans. bakugou feels lighter, he always does after being with you. he won’t lie, he hates the fact he’s going to go back out there and to get all heavy again. with rules, responsibilities, order and death.

“my nurses know to call me if anything wrong with you,” you say from behind him, “anything.”

bakugou grins, you always make him feel lighter.

[spheixrie]

Uber Eats

synopsis: What a crappy Friday night! You’re the only driver for your restaurant and you have to deliver to this Tomura S. guy. The worst part? He never tips. wc: 2.7k content: tomura shigaraki x female reader, quirkless au, oral (f! receiving), overstim, degredation, vaginal fingering, mdni cross posted to ao3

You hated this guy. 

He ordered every week without fail, like clockwork. 

“Do I have to make this delivery?” You ask your manager, wishing the ticket in your hand would burst into flames. 

It did not. 

The black ink only stared back at you as you stewed in your own misery: 

Tomura S. 

“You’re the only driver we have!” Your manager calls back to you, tossing some rice around in a wok before dropping it into a takeout container. “But after this, you’re good to go.” he placed the next order into the wok and the hiss of the food only added to the bustle of the restaurant.

You sigh, accepting your fate and crumple the receipt in your hand. It was the last delivery of the night so you find solace in at least being able to leave once you were done.

This guy was a known regular, and better known for not leaving a tip. Ever. It didn’t matter how big the order was and it didn’t matter what the weather had been outside — Tomura S. would not tip. And unfortunately for you it seemed he was more likely to order on your shift so you had to be the one to deliver. What awful luck.

Your manager waves you off after he finishes packing Tomura’s order and you step outside to your bike. It was about a fifteen minute bike ride, and the sweet promise of going home was all the motivation you needed to get it over and done. You put the order in the front basket of your bike and were off, hitting more than a few bumps in the road on your way.

Once you reach the apartment complex, you set your bike aside and head up to his door.

You’ve been here many times before, but that doesnt stop the nerves. 

Tomura was an… interesting fellow. Never a smile on his face and rarely a thank you. 

You steel yourself at the door of his apartment, taking a breath before raising your fist to knock. Maybe today would be different, you ponder, shifting your weight to cool your nerves. Maybe he would tip generously and send you on your way.

Everything could all be a big misunderstanding and you start to feel yourself get a little hopeful. He could be a nice guy under that rocky demeanor — maybe you’ve misjudged him.

The door opens with a little too much force and a vermillion glare meets your eyes. 

You feel yourself falter under his gaze. “Um, Tomura?" You put on the best smile you could and extend your arm, the bag of takeout presented to him. "Here’s your order.”

He looks down at the bag and then back up to you — carmine eyes giving away ill hidden boredom before ripping it from your hand and turning on his heels. The slam of his door making you jolt as you strained to hear his muttered thanks. So quiet you’re sure you may have imagined it. 

It would be generous to say you were shocked, but tonight had not been a kind night to you. A few too many potholes on your way here and a few too little tips given out has your lips pursed and fists clenching in anger. You had just about had it with this man. 

What was his deal? You come all this way, make sure his food is hot — hell, you even smile and that's still not enough. Well, you were done playing nice and found your fist tapping against his door before your brain could process your actions.

In less than a few seconds the door swung open, this time a much more annoyed Tomura greeting you. 

“What?” He rasped, face turned down into a scowl, much different from his earlier indifference. 

You don't waver, “What is your deal?”

His brows shoot up in surprise, “Excuse me?”

“I said, what is your deal? I’ve been delivering to you for months and not a single time have you tipped me! You know that's how I make a living right? It's just unfair.” you huff, exasperated.

This seems to surprise him further, and if you weren't crazy you would think that was amusement on his lips. “Tip? Is that what you want?”

You are surprised, but you nod. 

He huffs, taking a step back, “Fine.”

And then he’s gone. 

You’re not sure if he intends for you to follow him inside the apartment, but you have an idea that he wouldn't leave his door open otherwise — so, against your better judgment, you go in. 

It's dark in the apartment, and not very spacious. The dim lighting gives you little to work with but the blue light from the idle game screen playing on the tv in the living room helps you make out what you're looking at. Tomura has already gone deeper into the home, no doubt to his bedroom or wherever he may keep his money. You decide to stay where you are in the living room and look around a little.

The space wasn’t… awful, messy — yes, but not disgusting. It looked average to what any other twenty-something living alone would look like. 

You try not to make a habit of getting to know customers you deliver to, but judging from the nintendo switch docked near his television, it seems you may have a little in common. 

What surprises you are the anime figurines and plushies lining the bookshelf near the television. He didn’t strike you as a plushie enjoyer. Finding yourself smiling, you walk over to one. A green dino with goofy teeth and cute eyes. Cute. You reach out to touch it, the plushie feeling as soft as it looked.

The sound of footsteps on hardwood break your focus and you look back to see a grumpy Tomura, looking through his – assumedly empty –  wallet, “I don’t have any cash on me.”

His hair is fluffy and white, but looks a pale blue in the hue of the paused game on the television screen. His frustration is prominent in his scowl and you take this moment to really look at him, carmine eyes focused and brooding. He was taller than you originally thought and his black shirt was loose around the collar area, exposing his collar bones and you find your eyes drifting lower. You could tell he was toned under the thin black shirt he wore but you had never had a chance to really notice. Unconsciously, you lick your lips.

“Did you hear me?” 

Your eyes snap up, cheeks flushing, “Y-yeah!”

He huffed, irritation obvious but continued anyway, “well, what do you want?”

You don't know what you want anymore. If he doesn't have cash then it doesn’t matter. This seems like it may have just been an oversight on his part, so you may be better off letting this go. Maybe he would order again and tip you extra next time.

You take a few steps forward, every intention to walk by him and get to the front door when you stop, finally responding to his question, “nothing, just remember next time.” Your gaze catches his and then drifts lower, to his lips. Tomura catches the trail of your gaze and it forces you to look away. You swore there was a hint of a smile on his lips but maybe you were tired, it has been a long day. 

You shift your weight, ready to continue on your way out when Tomura reaches for your arm, grip tight and demanding. It takes you by surprise, but surprises you even further when he dips down and crashes his lips into yours, rough ones meeting the softness of yours. The kiss is not smooth or slow, but needy and hungry, Tomura playfully nipping your bottom lip before pulling away. 

“I have an idea,” he breathes and pulls you by the hand to his couch, falling ungracefully onto it and in an instant he's on top of you. 

Your cheeks are burning as you place both palms onto his chest to halt his movements, “H-hey, what are you doing?”

His laugh is low as if you should already know the plan. “I’m going to give you your tip.” 

And then he's down again, lips warm and demanding. A moan escapes your throat and you fist a hand in his hair, overwhelmed and desperate to get more of him. His tongue swipes your bottom lip and you waste no time letting him in. His large hand trailed down your side, and you pressed closer to him. He felt intoxicating, and arousal pooled in your belly as Tomura pulled away, panting. He was just as flushed as you knew you were, the wild look in his eyes only making the arousal between your thighs slicker.

Tomura trailed kisses down your jaw and neck, leaving soft bites in between licks. A particularly hard bite made you gasp, gripping his shoulder and turning your head, giving him better access to your neck.

He only chuckled, sitting back and looking down at you, “You look like whore.” he spat, teasing tone in his smile. “All spread out on my couch like this.”

His hands moved to your pants, popping the buttons and pulling them down. You should stop him, tell him to wait because you barely know him and it's a little soon, but his words have you biting your lip and lifting your hips to help him get your pants down and off. 

That only makes Tomura shake his head in disbelief, a pleased smile betraying his false disappointment. 

He reaches down and presses his middle finger to your clothed cunt, rubbing soft circles and laughs, “You’re soaked. Didn’t take you for such a slut.”

The words only spurred you on, spreading your legs further and closing your eyes. It felt good to finally get some kind of contact – he was right where he needed to be. Until he pulled away, leaving you more desperate and a complaint on your lips. You stop in your tracks though as Tomura leans down, tongue licking you through your panties. 

Your hands fly to his hair, moan erupting from your lips. You’re unsure how thin his apartment walls are, but you don't care. The feeling sends pleasure shooting up your spine and your heart picks up its pace.

Tomura laps at your clothed cunt, fabric muting the full feeling but giving you enough to cry out. You find yourself grinding closer, body begging him to keep going and he obliges, only for a moment. He gives your cunt one more kiss before pulling back and pulling your soaked panties down and off, tossing them across the living room. 

He wastes no time diving back in, tongue licking a strip from your hole to your clit and your back arches. The hold you have on Tomura’s hair is so tight, you're sure it’s painful at this point, but he only groans, wet muscle lapping your clit eagerly. Your thighs reflexively try to close, but Tomura is faster, hand stopping them and thumb rubbing soothing circles. 

“Oh, god,” you squeeze your eyes shut, the pleasure building quickly and you will yourself not to go over – not yet. That would be embarrassing. 

You feel the pressure in your abdomen tighten and it's clear you won't last much longer. Tomura took that moment to suck your sensitive nub and you spill over, mouth open in a silent moan and thighs quivering.

Tomura rides you through it, only pulling away from his ministrations once you catch your breath. “That soon, huh?” There's no bite to his words and you only give him a halfhearted glare, heavy lidded eyes still reeling from your orgasm. 

You’re distracted and don’t notice Tomura’s not finished with his antics. It wasn’t until you felt a digit pressing at your heat, slipping in slowly and making you mewl in pleasure. You were soaked, and the pressure making your head loll onto the armrest of the couch. It felt so full already. 

“Ah!” you gasped, feeling the familiar glide of Tomura’s tongue against your oversensitive clit once more. 

It was almost too much, your cries reaching new heights as he pumped his digit in and out of your sopping cunt, juices from your arousal mixing with his saliva. He was taking his time building your next orgasm, moving slow and steady, making your toes curl in pleasure. 

The push of a second finger against your hole had you tapping Tomura’s shoulder, “t-too much! Tomura!” 

Your cries fell on deaf ears as he continued, tip of his tongue flicking your clit as the second finger pushed in to join the first, waisting no time fucking you in earnest. His fingers were thick and the feeling of being so full made you dizzy, pleasure spiraling as you tried to ground yourself mentally. You grabbed Tomura’s shoulder, fisting his shirt in your hand as you lost yourself in the pleasure once more. 

Tomura’s motions ceased as his eyes met yours. You could only imagine how blissed out you looked in this moment, breath ragged and sweat clinging to your brow. Tomura wasn’t much better off — he was as desperate as you, hair splayed in wild directions after your hands ravaged through it. You open your mouth – impatient words on the tip of your tongue and Tomura curls his fingers, digits hitting that spongy spot inside that made you see stars.

He flattens his tongue, giving your clit a final lap and it sends you over – for the second time tonight. 

Your back arches and your legs shake as your orgasm washes over you. The feeling sends waves of pleasure throughout your body, eyes squeezed shut and mind buzzing. 

Tomura watches as you come apart, palming his erection in awe. You meet his eyes once you come down from your second high of the night and Tomura wastes no time in crashing his lips to yours, clumsy and wet. You could taste yourself on his lips and groan when he pulls you closer. 

There's a trail of saliva linking the two of you once he pulls away, but Tomura’s heavy gaze is only on you. He leans back in once more to give you a much softer kiss, before pulling away again and giving the same soft kiss on your cheek — heat rushing to them for reasons entirely different from what just transpired between you both. 

It was very… intimate – in a way you did not expect from someone who had just called you a slut. 

It makes you want to reach out for him when he pulls away further, eyes seemingly pondering something you’re unaware of. He looked down at you one more time, before looking to his television and his unopened takeout bag on the coffee table. 

“My show is about to start, so…” he starts, picking up the remote to change the channel of the television, screen lighting up and noise filling the room. You stare as Tomura sits back and gets comfortable, opening his takeout bag and removing the contents. 

Was he… was he kicking you out right now? Seriously? 

Your brows fly up, eyes widened in disbelief — his lack of reaction at your scoff only proves you right. He was kicking you out. Bullshit. The humiliation is evident as you scurry to find your pants, not bothering to find wherever the hell he tossed your underwear earlier, and get the hell out of there before you said something you would regret. 

The only thing on your mind was the front door as you brushed by Tomura one last time. 

“Hey!” he called, gluing you to your spot. Your heart jumped as you turned back to him vaguely hoping he would offer you to stay a little longer.

That small flame of hope died as soon as it came because Tomura was only extending your long forgotten phone to you. 

You snatch the device from his hand and make your way out the door, face burning and legs still tingling from the way he made you come undone mere moments before. 

Once you reach your bike you find yourself huffing in annoyance. What else did you expect? Him to offer you some of his takeout? That would just be silly. You’re walking your bike to the sidewalk, ready to hop on and go back to the restaurant – sure your manager is worried sick about his only driver – before your phone buzzes in your back pocket. 

Tomura S.

Your eyes widened as you read a text from the name you knew you hadn't saved in your contacts before. 

You forgot my drink.

[spheixrie]

Tomura Shigaraki Dating Chain - every time we meet the goal, you ask a different version of Shigaraki out on a date 🤭

Of course, he might respond in character 😅

Let's try Mall Shigaraki next !!

(Twitter Only, put posting for fun)

[spheixrie]

oh my god, bakugo's kind of my friend! | k. bakugo x reader

----> summary: You'd never dare tell anyone that he was your friend. You'd never be so bold. Katsuki agrees. He's definitely not your friend.

----> warnings: quirkless university au, video game violence, fluff n feelings

----> a/n: title blatantly stolen from the office—"oh my god, dwight's kind of my friend!"

----> word count: 2k

God, no, you’re not friends with Katsuki Bakugo.

No one is.

Yeah, okay, that’s not totally true. He’s sort of friends with Ochako, that’s how you met him. He’s actually fairly close to Izuku and Eijiro, his roommates. He tolerates Shoto, might even begrudgingly respect him. And he’s got some weird mutual-depression pact going on with Kyoka. 

But you’re not any of them. And you vehemently deny it when people ask, lest he, heaven forbid, think you’re going around telling people he likes you. You saw what happened to Neito last year when he, just once, said something about his friend Katsuki. You’re pretty sure it was the reason behind his switching majors, too, just to avoid being in the same classes with the terrifying blonde.

Sure, you’re in his apartment. Neito’s never stepped foot in here (aside from The Incident). And you’re well acquainted with the people he does clearly consider not-enemies. Earlier today, you and Momo had been out getting chips and soda for tonight. Just half an hour ago, you’d been playing blind karaoke with Eijiro, Izuku, and Ochako on Kyoka’s old laptop and mic that somehow both still had really good audio quality. Not to mention, you and Mina have had at least one class together every semester since you both started—she always races to slide into the chair next to you on every first day.

And you’re currently sitting on Katsuki’s couch, two feet away from Katsuki, playing a battle royale on Katsuki’s console.

“Behind the building,” he mutters, and you hum in acknowledgement, running to the spot he generously marked on the map.

It started a long while back. You and Denki had been playing some shitty racing game, and you’d very easily kicked his ass, leaving him groaning and flopping back onto Kyoka’s lap, where she offered no pity, rolling his head off with a light shove. As you were laughing at the display, Katsuki had taken Denki’s place on the floor, and all but demanded you pick up the controller once more.

(You’d won again. Terrified, you simply claimed that your controller must be broken before racing out of the room.

Imagine your surprise when, the next time you visited, he’d barked at you to assist him with a multiplayer, ordering a pouty Denki off the couch.)

You like playing, and you don’t have a console with as much storage back home, and you’re too broke to be buying multiple games anyways, so you don’t mind taking advantage of Katsuki’s appreciation for your skill. It’s usually a nice way to end the night, whether you and Ochako end up leaving or if you fall asleep right there on the couch.

Shivering, you bring your feet under the wool blanket you’d brought with you. You’re the only one who finds the apartment freezing. Everyone else typically sheds their extra layers, while you once hunted down Eijiro’s sock drawer to steal a pair of He-Man stockings for the night. 

“Up in the window,” you warn, at the same time he says, “Oi.”

Both of you meet each other’s gaze for a second in bewilderment, before rapidly turning your attention back to the TV. He dodges the shot from the window, and then continues.

“You been tellin’ people I hate you?”

“What?” Your hands almost drop the controller, but you regain control just quick enough to roll out of the way of a grenade. “No.”

“Kirishima said Tetsutetsu told him that Kendo told him that Tokage told her that you told her I hated you.”

If you weren’t nervous, you’d tell Katsuki you were surprised he even knew all those names. “I didn’t say that. I just said we weren’t friends.”

There’s an awfully long pause. You can still hear the sounds from the game, and the chatter of everyone else in the apartment—Hanta’s trying to rap?—but not a word from your couch partner. If it weren’t for the screen in front of you, you’d be nervously biting your nails or just full on escaping, honestly. Not that you’re scared of Katsuki, at least not more than one should be, but…

Well, the truth is you did see him as a friend. Or, screw it, as more than that, if those little arrhythmias you observed in yourself every time he would raise his hand in greeting when he passed you on campus were any indication. And you know it’s going to hurt—it already does—to hear him confirm the same thing that you told everyone when they asked. That you meant very little to him, in the long term.

“We’re not friends, huh?” he finally says, as more of an inquiry than you’d expected it to sound.

Your mouth feels dry, but you don’t stop staring straight ahead, spamming X to whack someone over the head with a bat. “Um. Are we?”

“Isn’t this your favorite game?” he shoots back, as though that answers your question.

“Yes? So?”

Another pause. You climb up to the roof of some building and emote pointlessly before hopping down and ducking behind a bush to heal. Katsuki lets out a mix of a sigh and a grunt, dashing across an abandoned minefield. 

“So,” he snarks, “I only bought it after you told me it was your favorite.”

Faintly, you feel the tips of your ears grow hot. Is that true? That can’t be true, can it? The timing does line up. You think it was back in the first week of October that you mentioned it, and then by Halloween you’d already played several rounds. Between that and losing to Momo in several games of pool, finals month had flown by.

But…

“I didn’t even tell you that.” Your voice comes out meek, and even though you’re in a safe space now, you’re still too nervous to turn your head and look at him. “I was talking to Shoto.” You’d even been half sure that Shoto wasn’t really registering what you were saying, with Ochako an inch away from him shrieking starships were meant to fly-y-y-y-y directly into his ear.

Katsuki grunts. “I was there, wasn’t I?”

If you wrack your memory, you can sort of remember it. He was…on Ochako’s other side? When she got drunk, she usually wanted to whack something, and Katsuki’s arm had been her victim that day, her palm smacking against his elbow at every other sung word.

The heat from your ears travels down to your neck. Over the singing and over everyone else’s conversations, was he paying attention to…you?

“I appreciate it,” you squeak quickly, wincing when you’re shot in the leg, “I mean, that was nice. Thank you. I just—I didn’t think you wanted me telling people we were friends, after what happened to—”

“If you bring up Monoma, I’ll take away your blanket,” he threatens; it makes you chuckle weakly. “You’re not that shithead. He pisses me off. You’re…you know.” You don’t know, actually. “You.”

Yeah, you’re you. You play games with him. You know his friends. You’re the only one who can try to outdance Eijiro to Rasputin in Just Dance. What does any of that have to do with…

“Do you think I ever fuckin’ carried that dick’s bag to class?”

“I don’t—”

“Do you think I had his stupid long ice cream order memorized? Pistachios, on the sides only,” he mimics, and you huff in an affronted sort of way, defensive of your topping choices. “Telling people to shut up so that I could hear what he was saying? Turning up the heat and burning up everyone in the apartment just to keep him warm? Was I inviting him to my place every two weeks just to fuckin’ watch him play Kingdom Hearts 3?”

And so, you finally look to the side. Katsuki’s cheeks are red, and his gaze is still on the television. His thumbs move furiously against the controller, and you have to bite your lip to prevent a quiet you’re really cute, you know that? from carelessly slipping from your mouth.

“But, to be fair,” you attempt, still confused, “you don’t exactly do all of that for your other friends either, Katsuki.”

At your words, he slouches into his seat more, the creases on his forehead deepening as an uncharacteristic frown—a frown, not a scowl—forms on his face. One would think you’d just told him you hated his guts. 

“Yeah.“ His glare flickers over to you for a moment. “Exactly.”

There’s a blast from the TV and a realization that hits you at the same time. 

You’re not his friend. He doesn’t see you as a friend.

The heat finally reaches your cheeks, and your mouth falls open slightly. 

Then, realizing something else, your head immediately snaps back to the screen to see that blast sound had actually been your character getting blown up. 

Your mouth falls open. You’d looked away for a few seconds at best. Which aces are in the lobby tonight?

“I lost,” you tell him, crestfallen. 

Katsuki snorts. “I didn’t.”

He keeps playing, and your cheeks don’t take any time to cool down. Instead, you stare at him while he’s distracted trying to escape the same vicious bastards who hunted you down, and you note that his face doesn’t look any less heated either. For once, it’s clearly not because he’s just getting into the game.

You wonder if that was ever the case at all, or if he just felt the same striking little jolt you did everytime you two accidentally bumped into each other while playing on this exact couch.

“I think I’m done for tonight.” The announcement comes out a bit louder than you expected. “I’ll probably head back.”

“I don’t think so.” Without breaking his eyes away from the TV, he nudges his head in the direction of the bedrooms. “Uraraka’s dead on her feet, and you’re not walkin’ back alone.”

Has he always purposely caused the fluttering in your chest? “Okay, well. Izuku’s still awake, I’ll just take his bed for now.”

Katsuki’s tongue clicks in a fuck-around-and-find-out kind of way. “Alright. Put the controller back before you go.”

“Fine. Where’s the, uh…” You turn your head this way and that, looking for the little box that they all go in.

“On my right,” he offers casually, not a hint on his face that he essentially just confessed to you.

Feeling a little spiteful, you reach to the side, blanket and all, instead of just standing up and going behind the couch like you would any other day. Purposefully blocking his view of the screen as you reach over him to toss the controller into the box, you smirk slightly when another blast signals that he’s died as well.

Only to yelp when a firm arm shoves you down against his chest.

“Would you look at that,” he murmurs, red eyes glittering in amusement as he watches you struggle on his lap, “I lost too.”

Tokage is going to hear a very different story tomorrow. “And how’s that my problem?”

His grip tightens, fingers gently digging into the thick cloth of the blanket that’s draped over you. “I wanna play again. And I’m cold.”

There’s a small, dumb grin on his face that you’d consider kissing off if it wasn’t mirrored by an equally dumb one of yours. You’re pretty sure Katsuki’s never ever complained about the cold in his apartment. But then, he’s never complained about the heat either. If he wants to be a sauna under you, who are you to deny him? Besides, you’re feeling cold too, you might as well just take advantage of the free insulation.

From the table, in the midst of pouring something that looks like cookie batter into a bowl, Kyoka raises her brow at the sight of you, then pats Tenya’s arm and points. 

He mouths something like, “Finally.”

Face burning once more, you bury your face in Katsuki’s neck, and relax in his hold while he presses X to replay.

[spheixrie]

This has been on my mind for a bit: Bakugo flirting with you after he catches feelings.

He's not usually the type to flirt, but oh, the things you make him want to do. He'll call you names like sweetheart or princess. He'll say it in a way that makes him sound intimidating. Sometimes, he'll lean in closer to you teasingly, just to test you, almost daring you to flirt back. If you do flirt back, it's on then. He'll fluster you until you're beet red, give up and walk away, smirking at you triumphantly.

He always ends up winning the flirting games, that damn bastard.

[spheixrie]

being 20 is about being soso tired

[spheixrie]

My Hero Academia Masterlist

Here is my masterlist for MHA. Check the guide below to know the types of fanfics.

💗 - Fluff 🎆 - Smut 💔 - Angst

🌻 - Headcanon 🌹 - One Shot 🍄 - Imagine 🌸 - Multiple parts 🌼 - alphabet 🍀 - alternative universes

Aizawa Shouta

Getting a Pet with Aizawa 💗🍄

Bakugou Katsuki

Reason to Be Overprotective 💗💔🌹

Denki Kaminari

Comforting Him When He Has Nightmares 💔💗🌻

Tomura Shigaraki

NSFW Alphabet 🎆🌼

[spheixrie]

Had a silly thought of Bakugo eating your leftovers <3

Bakugo noticed you had a habit of leaving at least three to four bites of food on your plate on your first date. He kept staring back and forth between you and the unfinished food as you talked to him animatedly.

"Finish your food." He told you. 

"Oh, I can't eat more. I'm really full."

He sighed in annoyance and stood up. He leaned over and grabbed your plate, seating himself again. He grumbled to himself about wasting delicious food and finished your leftovers for you. 

You watched him dreamily as he ate. Someone who could finish your leftovers. Very convenient. 

From there on, it became the norm for you to pass your plate with unfinished food to Bakugo. He made sure to show his annoyance each time, but you knew he was more than glad to empty your plate for you. Over time, he trained his stomach to make room for your leftovers after finishing his portion. 

At this point, the last two bites of your food are meant for him. 

One day, you're having dinner together in his apartment. He cooked you your favourite dish. He finished his portion and watched you eat, waiting for you to slide the plate over to him. He stared in shock when you brought the chopsticks with the last bite to your mouth, oblivious to Bakugo glaring at you with pure offence.

How could you do that? It was a ritual for him to finish your food for two years now. And you just broke it. How dare you.

You glanced at him in confusion when you noticed him staring at you like you committed a crime against humanity. You cocked your head in question. "What's wrong?"

"You ate the last bite."

"What about it?"

"What do you mean what's wrong? The last bite is supposed to be mine." He said as if it should have been obvious.

"Oh- that's what you're mad at." You stifled a laugh at the sight of your pouty boyfriend glaring at you. He huffed and took the empty dishes to the sink. You followed him, hugging him from the back.

"Sorry, Kats. I'll leave you the last bite next time."

"No. You finished your food. You deserve an award." You did not need to be facing him to know he rolled his eyes. 

"But clearly, I haven't gotten it yet." You poked his sides, trying to get a reaction out of him. "C'mon, stop being a baby."

"I'm not being a baby." He swatted your hand away.

"Yes, you are."

He sighed and gave you a peck on your lips, still grumpy. You smiled and hugged him again, looking up at him. "I'll give you my last bite next time. Promise."

"I'm going to steal it from you anyway."

[spheixrie]

hold on. bakugou k.

katsuki who has worked harder than any other pro hero to get to where he is today. so when he gets called for the "#1 Hero Award" at Japan's Pro Hero grammys he's winded.

ring sparkling on his finger while he blinks away small tears at the microphone before beginning his acceptance speech.

"first of all, i'd like to thank my wife"

and everyone in the room turns to look at you and smile. you could even feel your face getting a little hot from so much attention.

"so many times i jus' wanted to quit and she slapped my ass back in place."

the crowd laughed, bakugou sharing a smile in the moment. One of the first real, genuine smiles they'd seen from him in all his years of being famous.

"thank you all for this reward, i will continue to try my best to be Japans best Pro Hero!"

blondieeu xx

[spheixrie]

KAKVKSKFKFKFKF i didnt get anything for valentines day and this just made up for it

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST

♡ Dabi ♡

Dabi, maintaining his usual nonchalant demeanor, brushes off Valentine's Day as insignificant. "It's just another day," he grumbles when you inquire about plans, his gaze fixed on something distant.

Despite his indifference towards the holidays of any kind, Dabi ensures that you feel loved every day. He might not express it verbally, but through his actions, like a gentle touch or a shared glance, he conveys his affection.

Dabi, surprisingly in touch with emotions, recognizes that you might have different expectations for Valentine's Day. "I get it, you want some romantic crap. Fine," he reluctantly admits, acknowledging the importance it holds for you.

Instead of traditional gifts, Dabi puts thought into finding something unique that resonates with you. It could be a rare book, a piece of artwork, or an item related to your hobbies. "I figured you'd like this better than some cliché crap, doll," he remarks.

During the day, Dabi might express his affection in subtle ways. A brush of his fingers against yours, a lingering glance, a warm hug, a rare smile or a shared cigarette.

Dabi, not one for grand gestures, suggests spending quality time together. "We can do whatever you want."

Dabi prefers low-key activities, so he suggests a casual day out rather than an extravagant date. It could be a stroll through a less crowded part of town or a visit to a place that holds personal significance.

Dabi values private moments over public displays of affection. He might pull you aside for a quiet conversation or a shared moment away from prying eyes, kissing you passionatelly in an alley after picking the order from your favourite restaurant.

In the evening, Dabi might create a quiet, intimate atmosphere. He pulls you close, whispering, "I'm not good with words, but you know what you mean to me, right?" His actions speak louder than any declaration.

The evening is peaceful, just the two of you, enjoying each other's company without the need for excessive words.

♡ Shigaraki ♡

Shigaraki openly expresses his disdain for Valentine's Day, dismissing it as a celebration that glorifies something horrific. "It's just a stupid, commercialized excuse to sell crap. I don't get the hype," he grumbles.

Despite his aversion, when he notices your excitement for the occasion, Shigaraki chooses to bite his tongue.

In a rare show of consideration, Shigaraki instructs Kurogiri to order a bouquet of your favorite flowers from the local florist. This act of embracing the holiday, even reluctantly, is his way of showing that he cares about your happiness.

"I don't get why people like this crap, but if it makes you happy, I'm willing to change my mind."

Shigaraki, true to his personality, prefers a minimalist celebration. Instead of grand gestures, he might suggest a quiet evening or a simple dinner, keeping the focus on the two of you without succumbing to excessive sentimentality.

He ensures that all the League of Villains members are assigned unexpected additional missions, even though they may express their discontent. Shigaraki wants to spend this day with you only.

As the day progresses, Shigaraki might quietly observe your joy. "You better appreciate this. I don't do this for just anyone," he remarks, a hint of satisfaction in his tone, showing that your happiness matters to him.

For the evening, Shigaraki proposes an anti-romantic movie night, selecting films that defy typical romantic clichés. "None of that sappy stuff. Let's watch something that doesn't make my teeth hurt," he suggests.

As you drift into slumber nestled in his embrace, he delicately traces patterns on your back with his pinky cautiously elevated to prevent any accidental decay. "I love you, little Y/N," he whispers, even though he's well aware that you're already lost in the realm of dreams.

♡ Bakugo ♡

Valentine's Day, according to Bakugo, is a bothersome and superficial affair, hiding behind a facade of fake sentimentality. Ranting about the superficiality of the day, Katsuki loudly declares, "I don't need some capitalist crap to tell me when to appreciate someone, tsk!"

"It's a dumb day. Why should I care?" Initially dismissing the idea of celebrating, he flaunted his lack of interest until the sight of your disappointment shattered his nonchalant façade.

Experiencing a pang in his chest, he noticed your lower lip trembling as you tried to assure him that you didn't need to participate. Even though he often expressed his emotions through actions, he couldn't shake the feeling that this time might be different.

With a resigned sigh, he swallows his pride, extending a genuine apology. He confesses to a change of heart, "Look, I changed my damn mind. No harm in spending time together or making this stupid day special, I guess. You're important or whatever."

Bakugo, true to himself, plans unconventional celebration. "If we're gonna do this, we'll do it my goddamn way. Tsk, I heard there's a place with those damn fluffy dogs. Don't get any ideas, I just thought it might be amusing or something," he grumbles, leading you to a Shiba cafe.

Bakugo finds himself in a rare, awkward position as one of the dogs playfully jumps on him. "Stupid mutt, get off!" he protests, but you catch a fleeting, embarrassed smile as he secretly enjoys the canine attention.

As you both sip coffee surrounded by Shiba Inu companions, Bakugo, unaccustomed to public displays of affection, reaches for your hand under the table and rubs its top with his thumb while drinking his espresso.

The sheer joy on Bakugo's face as a Shiba snuggles against him is a sight to behold. He attempts to hide it with a dismissive comment, "They're just damn dogs, but whatever, they're kinda cute, I guess."

Upon arriving home, Bakugo could catch you off guard by presenting a dessert skillfully shaped like a heart. "It's stupid, but fine. You better eat it," he grumbles, a touch of pride in his eyes surfacing as you commend his cooking prowess.

As the day draws to a close, Bakugo may catch you off guard with an unforeseen tender moment – enfolding you in his sturdy arms, drawing you snugly against his robust chest. He gently massages your shoulders and plants affectionate kisses on your face. "I love you, Y/N. Make sure you never forget that," he declares, his words carrying a sincerity that transcends his usual gruff demeanor.

♡ Shoto ♡

While Shoto may come across as indifferent to Valentine's Day, the truth is, he's like a child eagerly anticipating a visit to a candy store, envisioning a day filled with profound love shared with you.

Shoto brims with an unusual level of excitement, eager to shower you with pampering and spoils. While he typically engages in such gestures, this time, he has elaborate plans under wraps – surprises that would catch you off guard and leave you pleasantly astonished.

On Valentine's morning, you wake up to the irresistible aroma of a homemade breakfast. Shoto, armed with a chef's apron, presents a heart-shaped feast, each dish crafted with precision and love. As you enter the kitchen, he greets you with a warm smile, "Happy Valentine's Day. This is just the beginning."

Throughout the day, you discover tiny love notes strategically placed in unexpected corners. Each note holds sweet affirmations, showcasing Shoto's meticulous effort to sprinkle your day with joy.

In a quiet moment, Shoto presents you with a carefully crafted, handmade gift. It could be a piece of art, a personalized item, or something that holds sentimental value. He shyly admits, "I wanted to make something special for you. I hope you like it."

Unbeknownst to you, Shoto unveils a surprise date that surpasses all expectations. "I thought we could spend the day doing things you enjoy. It's all about making you happy." From a tranquil picnic in the park to a spontaneous dance under the stars, every moment is curated to create lasting memories.

Upon returning home, as evening approaches, Shoto unveils a cozy haven, complete with blankets and your favorite snacks. The ambiance exudes warmth, inviting you to unwind and revel in the tranquility of your shared love.

The day concludes with a handwritten love poem, penned by Shoto himself. Each line is an eloquent expression of his feelings, capturing the nuances of your connection in words as sweet as the love that binds you.

Before you retire for the night, Shoto pulls you into a gentle embrace. "Thank you for being with me. Happy Valentine's Day," he whispers, planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

♡ Hawks ♡

Upon waking up on Valentine's Day, you're greeted with a pile of gifts neatly arranged beside the bed. Hawks, unable to contain his excitement, watches for your reaction with a grin. "Happy Valentine's Day, babe. Open them up!"

Hawks takes Valentine's Day as the ultimate opportunity to showcase his love. From breakfast in bed to surprise outings, he plans an entire day filled with over-the-top affectionate gestures. "Get ready for a day all about you, songbird."

Hawks, with his love language being gift-giving, meticulously selects each present. "I thought of everything you might like. You're worth it," he mentions as you uncover thoughtful and personalized gifts.

The day unfolds with whimsical adventures – perhaps a surprise trip to an amusement park or an impromptu picnic. Hawks is determined to make the day unforgettable.

Throughout the day, Hawks showers you with unexpected compliments. "You know, you're the best thing that ever happened to me," he confesses.

As the day progresses, Hawks concludes with a romantic dinner, whether it's a home-cooked meal or a reservation at a fancy restaurant. "To us and many more Valentine's Days to come," he toasts, a warmth in his golden eyes.

As the day comes to a close, Hawks proposes the idea of late-night stargazing. Draped in blankets, both of you settle on the spacious balcony of his apartment. Hawks, pointing out constellations, weaves stories of the night sky. "Just us and the stars. Can't beat a moment like this, huh?"

As the day winds down, Hawks might surprise you with a midnight snack. "Can't end the day on an empty stomach. Here, your favorite, babybird," he says, presenting a thoughtful treat.

As you both drift into a peaceful slumber wrapped in each other's arms, Keigo can't help but revel in the profound happiness that washes over him. Having found the love of his life, he's determined to cherish this precious connection on a daily basis, not just during Valentine's Day.

[spheixrie]

How would BNHA guys react to you recovering.

You were in the hospital for a while after an accident you had on a mission. Had to write this since I came back from the hospital after a shitty surgery.

He would probably feel relieved and grateful that you recovered, considering you were injured on a mission. He might blame himself for not being able to protect you properly and would likely vow to work even harder to prevent such incidents in the future.

"Hey, _____. I'm really glad to see you up and about. I was really worried when I heard about what happened. Just remember, if you ever need anything, I'm here for you, okay?"

Bakugo might show a tough exterior but deep down he would also be relieved that you recovered. He might express it in his own gruff way, perhaps by making some snide remarks about how you shouldn't be so careless next time, but his concern would be evident.

"Don't think this means you can slack off now. We need you at your best out there. But... I'm glad you're okay, I guess. Don't make me worry like that again."

Todoroki would likely express a more subdued yet sincere relief. He might not be as outwardly emotional as some of the other characters, but he would certainly be glad to see you well again.

"I'm relieved to see you're recovering well. If you need anything during your rehabilitation, don't hesitate to ask. Take care of yourself, _____."

Iida would be very relieved and might even take it upon himself to lecture you about being more careful in the future. However, his concern for your well-being would be genuine, and he would likely offer any assistance you might need during your recovery.

"It's a relief to see you recovering, _____. Please remember to follow the doctor's orders and take your rehabilitation seriously. And if you need assistance with anything, feel free to let me know. I am here to support you."

Kirishima would likely express his relief with a big, friendly smile and maybe even a fist bump. He would offer his support and encouragement, perhaps even sharing some stories of his own experiences with overcoming tough situations.

"Hey, _____, I'm really relieved to see you're okay. I was seriously worried about you, you know? But seeing you here, looking as tough as ever, makes my day. If there's anything you need, whether it's someone to talk to or just a shoulder to lean on, I'm here for you. Take it easy, alright?"

Masterlist

Tag list info

[spheixrie]

older bakugou who learns to finish up fights and missions quickly, all with the goal of returning home early to you and your children, despite him having always made fun of his boss for doing the same during his prime days when he was still a sidekick

his shower isn’t at all reaching his standard of the deep cleanse he always does after long and hard missions in far away forests and mountains, the grime and dirt are probably still visible under his neat fingernails, his palms are dry but he didn’t bother taking out his lotion, after five minutes, he’s out of the agency, hair still wet, clothes not fully shoved inside his duffle bag, his steps are fast-paced and hurried, he speed-walks to his porsche in the parking lot

(eijirou watches all of this with a warm smile on his face, however many times he was chastised by a younger bakugou for slacking off for his wife and kids and however many times he answered with ‘you’ll understand one day’ wouldn’t suffice for the absolute smug pride he’s feeling right now, oh how his best friend has grown)

he’s barely going the speed limit on the road, his grip on the steering wheel is firm, the leather familiar in his hold, he’s leaned back, he’s relaxed, because he gets to walk through your home and into your arms soon enough, that all the work he’s done in the past month in okinawa, kilometres away from musutafu was more than worth it

the wheels on his car don’t align with the lines at his parking spot, it’s wonky and sideways but he doesn’t care when he slams the door closed and forgoes his belongings in the car because they’re not going anywhere, but the time he can spend with you and your head tucked in his neck is

he can hear his children’s laughs all the way from the garage, your giggles and light scolding are all but endearing and even from the outsider, it’s visible that he’s no longer fifteen year old, angry and frustrated, the bright grin he has on as his daughters jump in his arms sits comfortably on his mellowed out face, stubble and all

the things older bakugou would do to hear the words ‘welcome home, papa!’ are limitless

his daughters crowd around his legs and gag when he kisses ‘i missed you’ into your lips, your smile is evident throughout, his brats will run off to play with the dog and he will get you all to himself, against the kitchen counter, messy hair and dirtied clothes, bakugou wouldn’t want to be anywhere else