All I Want Is Bakugou To Pull Up In His Porsche To Get My Drunk Ass From Applebees Because The Girls

dating rumors part 2

shinsou, monoma, dabi, shigaraki, hawks x reader (individual)

false rumors have been circulating that you and a certain person are a little closer than you let on

part one (izuku, bakugou, denki, sero) also shouto’s is here in a diff scenario

notes: monoma stops responding because i like to think hes so genuinely shocked he cant think of anything snarky to say. he can dish but he cant take!!!!

Could you do another secret admirer smau with shinso or midoriya? 👀 your work is too good 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

the set up

h.shinso

-in which his friend messages you from his number and confesses- he takes the shot.

-i’ll have the izuku one up soon !!

My wife Fuyumi

hiiii rue i love ur writing i will read anything u write! That being said, any form of Denki smau with exceptionally forward reader who makes him nervous… would be… very swag.

hes so paatheettiiccc but i also think he'd love getting his licks back like he's teeheeing and blushing and rubbing his hands together like a fly behind the screen thinking of a witty reply HEHE thank yew denki nation🫡🫡

show me how // denki kaminari

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mha tag: @lotuslovers @babylambdietcoke @0skullyard0 @kaldurahms-lover @commonmisery @moonstonejpg @twoplayergaymers @simp-plague @xvilluis

Now for the real fun! While I have the main beats of the fight planned, Bakugou's other quirks aren't set in stone, so I'm welcoming suggestions.

First - Previous - Next

Another vaguely Annihilation-themed stamp 🍂

Bakugou, whose stamina is unbeatable. Who has just finished fucking you in any place necessary of the bedroom—the bed, the mini-couch, the floor—and still can’t keep his hands off you.

After laying on the bed for rejuvenating moments (at least for him), his large hand slides up your shoulder with a few coaxing kisses.

“Shower,” is all he says, his gruff voice strained and warm breath perceptible against your neck. You just nod weakly and attempt to ignore the mess between your legs.

In fact, he has to carry you to the bathroom. When you’re both in the shower, he still acts as support: your back is to his chest so he bears most of your weight, and his fingers span your lower stomach while you attempt to wash yourself.

You can barely keep your eyes open, so relaxed by the water, but he can see all of you just by where his chin rests on your shoulder. The water and soap sliding past the peaks of your breasts, the souvenirs that you not-so-sternly asked him not to leave on your skin.

Where you rest in front of him, he can’t help but feel aroused all over again, especially rubbing his hands over your supple skin that he couldn’t appreciate the first few rounds, clouded by the roughness you love.

Unable to just watch, he gently spins you around. Your eyes are half-closed, so you pay it no mind. You just continue your slow, leisure washing, completely unaware of the fact that he’s completely hard again, even if you wouldn’t be surprised.

Your eyes open back to reality when he gently takes the loofah from you and hangs it up on the little hook. His muscles casually ripple when he does literally anything, and if you weren’t so attracted to it, you’d be jealous.

“C’mere,” he orders, his voice in that soft tone reserved for you. His hands follow, crossing at your lower back and pulling you toward him even more. The atmosphere is hot and slow with the exhaustion settled into both of you.

You do something of a hum in question, but don’t resist when he leans down and slowly captures your lips in his. Your longing for each other is evident simply in the sigh that follows when you connect.

There’s water dripping everywhere, mostly on you, but the kiss is everything Bakugou usually isn’t: patient, slow, and needy. Actually, no. He was always pretty needy.

“Kat,” you whisper, and he groans in response, stretching his hands up your wet skin until he crosses your ribs, his thumbs move past the side of your breasts, and your arms are naturally guided to his neck.

You weren’t entirely sure what you were asking, to be honest, but you didn’t care. Not when you could feel the length of him pressed against your stomach.

Bakugou moves a few strands of drenched hair back behind your ear, and then strokes the rest at your nape to keep your head up to him. It was admirable, really, how he could be literally twitching in arousal, and still move like it doesn’t bother him at all.

Although, he is getting closer at hinting to it, because somewhere in the heat, your right leg is being lifted to his hip. When you find an escape from his kiss (he doesn’t allow you many), you glance down to what he’s doing.

He interprets your brows slightly furrowing and the low, tired droop of your eyes, already knowing what you’re going to say.

Voice still soft and practically gone even in distress, you begin, “I can’t go another round. There’s no way I’ll—”

“Shh,” he places a kiss on your forehead, then another at your temple. His head dips to lick and kiss in the crook of your neck, and your fingers either run through his wet, blonde hair or span the muscles of his back. He’s completely gone.

The left hand that upholds your leg starts to massage your thigh and inch up to your ass. “I talk to this pretty pussy almost every night, and you don’t think I know what you can handle?”

A whimper leaves your mouth and your hold tightens around him. Despite your lower body being completely stretched and at ease, he can still feel the tension elsewhere.

He continues, his voice dripping with reassurance, “Slide it in yourself. Then you tell me how it feels.”

And after a few moments and a sigh, you carefully reach down and wrap your fingers around him the best you can. You can feel him react to the movement alone, and with a prayer, you guide his head right to your entrance so you can sink when you’re ready.

When you descend, an immediate whine feels the air. He still fit perfectly from earlier and the sensitivity had tripled.

“Fuck,” you curse, wrapping yourself around him again. He holds you close.

“Feel good?”

You nod, and he throbs inside at the same time. He kisses you again, making sure to uphold you through your fatigue. Helping those in need was his job after all.

His right hand that covers your lower back loosens so that your weight inches backwards, then it pulls you right back in until you’re pressed against each other.

He groans with pleasure. The vibrations move to your lips that kiss him like he’s the last man on Earth.

And then he does it again, and again, until your head is simply resting on your own shoulder with your arms encircling his neck, water rushing down your hair and back. Your eyes are completely closed as he cradles you, erotic whines, whimpers, and moans falling from your lips into his ear.

Your slick walls drag up and down his skin. He moves so easily in and out that he can feel the outline of where his head usually reaches—the little space left. He was nowhere near as deep right now, but he is sure with the slight bend of his knees, he could have you screaming how you were for the hours before this.

And funnily enough, he doesn’t want you screaming at the moment. It’s something previous Bakugou would never say; not rock hard and needing to be balls deep in you quick Bakugou, at least.

You were worn out and tired, your body unable to take his usual pace. He’s almost 90% sure if he lifted you off the ground, you’d comply and hold on tighter, but he’s not going to push you that far. Not when he’s content like this, caressing your beautiful, dripping figure as you cry his name.

“Mmghn, that feels s-so good.” You speak, just above a whisper. And somehow, he can still hear you over the water and small splash of you both meeting in the middle. It’s like his brain is wired. No matter what, he’ll always be able to hear you.

He nods and kisses the side of your head again, keeping stable and consistently moving with minimal effort. The underside of your right knee is now resting in his elbow, so his hand can hold your waist and pull most of your weight that way instead of trying to push your whole body with just your thigh. At some point, you began helping him out.

“Keep moving your hips just like that, I got you.”

You groan at the instruction, and he chuckles heartily. Love poured from him and into you, making you feel more safe and secure than ever.

It didn’t take long until warmth gathered in your core with your clit dragging back and forth along his cock. He occasionally grunts and has to fix position to keep himself from spilling inside, not before you do first.

He can’t explain the relief he has when you insist that you’re gonna come soon in the form of a warning. It builds with each “thrust” and being so close to him as he carries you to climax.

“I’mna come,” you say again, more rushed this time, but muffled by his shoulder.

“I can feel it.” He responds, keeping pace. “Do you know what it feels like having you pulsing around me? Knowing you’re going straight into your sleep after?”

You shake your head.

“Hell, baby. Hell.”

And he wouldn’t have it any other way: the only option you have on sleepless nights being him. When you tap his shoulder or rub yourself against him, knowing he’ll never say no. Hope could he? He takes great pride in being your melatonin.

And, without fail, you fall into a perfect deep sleep, his cum still dripping into or out of you. It’s never there in the morning, and he loves that the only way it will happen is if he wears you out.

“Kattt…” You toss your head back, a low rumble in your throat that you only make when you’re on the verge of completely losing it. He attacks your neck again, letting your body naturally bounce off him and come back.

“Let yourself feel it. Let me take you there,” he encourages gruffly, nipping at your ear.

“Agh, fuck,” you nearly sob, digging yourself further into him somehow.

His eyes shut, a wave of clarity rushing over him. It’s you, his woman, his everything, needing him. He thought he knew what he wanted early in life. He knew he wanted to be desired by others in multiple ways, the best at everything. God, how wrong he was.

Now he wants to be the best at everything for you. Because you deserve nothing less. He doesn’t want to be desired by anyone else but you, because you carry all the validation he could possibly gain dopamine from. Nothing compares to you being completely and utterly dependent on him, clinging to him for dear life.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful,” he spouts, not bothering to stop or care about being sappy. He loves to hear you whine in response, only to finally come up with a few words. Clearly you got the cheesy feeling too.

“L-Love you, Kats.”

He bushels the hair at the bottom of your head with a grunt, tilting your nose up to him. He lets his lips kiss you passionately first, then he pulls away, but obviously not too far since you’re still nose to nose. Your eyebrows are upturned in that sensual expression he loves.

His deep, crimson eyes flicker to your puffy lips, a sign of the night, and land on your pretty damp eyelashes. He was breathless and stern.

“Don’t look away. Keep your eyes on me, or I’ll stop.”

You blink, registering his words with the shake of your head. “Don’t stop,” you plead.

He calls your name, and it’s enough to know he’s being dead serious. Both his grips tighten, mainly the one in your hair, and you don’t know if it’s water dripping down your cheeks or a tear or two.

You can feel your bottom leg beginning to shake, and the heat get to your head.

You shut your eyes instinctively, “K—”

“I’ve got you, don’t even think about it. Look at me.”

Your eyes shoot open in remembrance of his words as he leaves and reenters you again with increased speed, the sound when you slap together even louder. He holds your head in place. “I love you more, baby. More than you can ever dream.”

You watch his eyes and they say everything you can’t, everything he can’t, and that alone is enough to send you over the edge.

Your jaw drops and you literally begin shaking, not caring that all the strength you had left went into your orgasm. Your head pounds with the stream of the shower and fatigue, and your hands begin to slip at his neck, but you don’t even care. You know he’s got you. He said it himself.

“Shit,” he hisses, your orgasm expected, but the power of it not. He almost missed the fact that you were gushing around him by mistaking it as the water, the countless times you’d done this before catching up to you. He keeps thrusting his hips forward and whispering you praises. “Atta fuckin’ girl.”

You are sobbing now, real tears as he stills and twitches inside. He holds the promise he made to you since you did the same. He keeps his eyes focused on you, even as white spurts paint your insides, and puts his swollen lips on yours. Through your gasps, you couldn’t kiss him back, so he bites your bottom one instead.

It isn’t until you lose your footing and go limp against him that he bends to pick you up and lower your leg gently. You’re still jerking slightly, your muscles overworked, and the last of his release lands somewhere on your thighs as your back is arched against him.

Before you can say anything or even think about it, he holds you upright and bends down to kiss you with all he has left, now that you’re somewhat here. When it’s over, you fall against him completely.

The rest is a blur, and the next time you know what’s happening, you’re tangled together in the unused guest bedroom.

©️ hxltic

🐇🐇🐇🐇🐇🐇

Stickers & sticker club

012. CARNATIONS

Friday morning came all the same—and the pending sadness you believed to come with the sunrise never did. Yes, it was your last day here at the Todoroki household. But knowing you and Touya would be going back to the hospital together was reassuring enough to soothe all your nerves.

The majority of breakfast was filled with secret smiles passed between you and Touya. His eyes were always wandering—always trailing back to you. And the sensation of his heated gaze alone made your head feel like it had been stuffed to the brim with cotton.

The Todorokis didn't notice anything off between you and Touya—he was always close by when you were near, but he seemed to be a little more clinger than usual.

But you were Touya's anchor. You grounded him. You made him feel safe, wanted, loved—so many emotions he wasn't used to having. It was overwhelming, all these new emotions. But he welcomed the tidal wave of feelings in with open arms. He would drown in this emotion if he could. He's not sure if there's a name for it, but Touya had become entirely dependent on you.

You didn't notice this—but every chance Touya got, he kept some part of his body touching yours. It could just be his shoulder bumping gently against yours, or his pinky grazing your knee under the table—any little touch would work to that keep that insatiable craving of his fed.

Touya ability to feel was... odd. He either felt something with every fiber of his being, or he felt nothing at all. His love was fierce, a forest fire all in its own. It was consuming, it was something that spread until it dominated everything.

Touya loved like he hated, with a burning passion.

Just hearing your name was enough to make Touya raise his head and tune into whatever conversation was going on. Actually hearing your voice had an entirely different effect on him—because suddenly, his pupils are dilating and he can't hear a single sound besides the words leaving your lips—and Touya has to physically fight the urge to press his fingers against the column of your throat just so he can feel the vibrations of your voice box as you speak

His family's goodbye was bittersweet. But even though Touya was leaving—this was not goodbye forever.

Touya was getting better day by day. His physical and mental wounds were being healed by your sparkling eyes and doting hands, and he's surrendering all he was and ever will be to you.

This past week had been heaven on earth for Touya. As he got into the backseat of the van with you, he was already looking forward to working more on writing his letters to Shoto back at the hospital. You'd help him like always—because you're the best. You're the best doctor, friend, and companion he could ask for—you're the best everything.

The drive back is peaceful. Most of the roads are empty due to how early in the day it is, but Touya doesn't mind it at all. It gives him a greater view of Japan's scenery outside. The rolling green hills and the snow coated branches of trees creates a whimsical view for him to quietly appreciate and admire.

You're asleep with your head resting on Touya's shoulder, and he has his cheek smushed against the side of your head. He keeps one hand intertwined with yours, and he uses his other hand to keep his fingertips pressed against your pulse point—the reassuring beating of your heart is a calming melody.

The drive is a little over an hour, but he's back within the familiar hospital walls soon enough.

While walking down the hallway with you, Touya was practically glued to your side. The pristine walls and floors of the hospital made him a little uneasy sometimes, but he was looking forward to returning to his little room soon enough.

You're telling Touya about how there's going to be a storm tomorrow, and how you'd just gotten a statewide notification on your phone. He's nodding his head along to your words—before his eyes catch on another patient’s door that's been left ajar.

Every patient had identical rooms. They all had the tall wooden doors and silver handles for their entrance and bathroom. Each room had a hospital bed, a side table, a TV, a small coffee table with two chairs, and a pull out bed.

But as Touya's eyes looked over to take in this patient's room, he couldn't help but notice how much more different it was from his own.

There were no paper snowflakes hanging from the windows. There were no colorful pens scattered over tables and pages of unfinished letters strewn across the room. There were no board games, no uno cards scattered all over the bed. There wasn't a single sign of life in there besides the half empty coffee mug sitting on the edge of the patient's bedside table.

There was no you, he decided.

Touya's quiet the rest of the way to his room.

Touya didn't believe in luck or fate, those invisible forces didn't feel like they applied to someone like him. They were saved for ordinary people—people like you who deserved good things.

But what else could explain your presence in his life? He certainly didn't deserve you, Touya was sure of that. He didn't deserve anything after the war. He nearly lost his family, but he didn't. He nearly lost an arm, but he didn't. He nearly lost his life, but he didn't.

But you weren't a product of fate or luck—no, meeting you was some sort of a divine intervention.

Touya, you deserve to be happy too.

He remembers when you had uttered those words to him one night when his thoughts had trailed too far again, and he had scoffed at you then. He snapped at you, telling you to go away because you clearly don't see how he doesn't deserve shit.

He winces at the unwanted memory. Those were the earlier days when he was still warming up to you, and he'll forever regret taking his misdirected hurt out on you, of all people. But even after he acted out and behaved like a total brat, you still loved him. You had seen the ugliest parts of Touya, seen him at his worst, seen him at his absolute lowest—and you were still here. Right by his side, just like you'd promised.

Maybe he does deserve you. And for once, he doesn't feel selfish for the thought. Touya can love too—he can be kind and he can be gentle. He knows his depraved sense of humor somehow manages to make you laugh, he knows the spot right under your ear is weak and ticklish for his kisses, and he knows you love him.

Touya doesn't even notice the two of you have finally reached his room until he accidentally walks right into your back. A small sound of surprise leaves your lips before you smile. He blinks himself out of his daze before stretching his lips into that handsome smile that never failed to make your heart skip a beat.

Wordlessly, Touya tugs you through the door. He never thought this hospital room would become something he'd miss—but he recognizes the space he had grown into and come to love. Yes, this was a room filled with memories he never wanted to forget. Countless nights he'd spent laughing till his stomach hurt with you, and even more nights where he spilled his heart's darkest secrets to you.

And suddenly, Touya realizes it was a room that felt more like home than the Todoroki household ever did.

Touya's hug is unusually tight. He bundles you up in his arms and cradles the back of your head to his chest, his arms wound tight around your form. You can sense he's overwhelmed by something he can't voice—so you do what you're best at.

Your hands move up and down the length of his back, rubbing big and comforting circles. His lips are slow as they meet yours, and his blunt fingertips dip gentle crescent moons into your skin as he holds your face

"I love you," He whispers, his voice hoarse and cracking with emotion. You're cooing softly as you help him into bed, whispering affirmations into his ear that have him practically collapsing in your arms. He's being babied—Touya knows he is.

But God, it felt good to finally feel like he was worth something.

You didn't leave Touya's room until you could absolutely confirm he had drifted into dreamland. Touya fell asleep smiling, and the sight was so precious that you almost didn't want to leave.

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip gently, chewing on it as you board the elevator towards the end of the hall. You hit the down button, fingers curling around the strap of your bag as you tap your foot against the ground idly.

The metals doors slide open with ease after a few moments, the gentle ding! sounding through the small space, indicating you had arrived onto the ground floor.

But the sight you're met with on the other side of the door makes you want to drag the metal doors close with your bare hands and slam the up button as hard as you can—

And suddenly, your hands feel clammy and your mouth goes dry as your supervisor tugs you along with clouded eyes—her mouth is set into a firm line, and your colleagues flutter around you nervously. All of their faces are twisted with an emotion you don't understand—and your heart positively drops to the floor when you're pulled into a meeting room with Enji Todoroki sitting at the front.

Enji's shoulders are squared, and he's hunched forward just the slightest bit as his gaze narrows in on you. Someone's telling you to sit down—but you can't breathe. Your chest physically hurts as your supervisor leads you to a chair as gently as she can manage—her usual hard gaze is broken, completely shattered and revealing the unspoken sadness beneath

And you finally realize. They know—because Enji is suddenly tossing a handful of blurry photographs onto the table. He's yelling loudly at someone, his tone rough and demanding attention. But you can't meet his gaze, and your eyes are burning like he's lit them on fire himself.

Because those are pictures of you and Touya kissing. Those are pictures of you and Touya holding hands. Those are pictures of you and Touya murmuring lowly to each other with your foreheads pressed together.

The photographs are grainy—they were obviously taken at night, and it looked like they were taken through a God damn window. It sounds like someone is yelling at Enji for spying, but you can't find the strength to try and organize the chaos around you

This wasn't supposed to happen. You promised yourself nothing like this would happen.

"She clearly isn't suitable enough to decide when I can visit my son. The nerve this woman has to say she may never allow me to see him again is ridiculous. He is my son, and she clearly isn't a good doctor if she has relations like this with him."

He grills you down with that forever present scowl, and the tears brimming in your eyes are traitorous as they roll down your cheeks silently

Enji did all of this because he wanted to see Touya sooner. He spied on you to find something to use against you. And he had just unknowingly ruined your entire career.

People who can swim in their money and power are careless when it comes to people who are nowhere near as privileged. They don't understand how delicate some situations are—and how power and money can't solve every problem. A muscle in Enji's jaw ticks when your supervisor's trembling voice speaks up—telling him that you'll be removed immediately from Touya's care.

"Fired? No, no that's not what I need. What I need is for another doctor to reevaluate Touya's condition and understand that he is ready to see me. I know I was an unexpected visitor the last time I came, but—"

Your supervisor cuts him off sharply

"You have presented us with photo evidence of Y/n breaking company policy. It doesn't matter what your goal was from all of this, because now we have no choice but to fire her. You blew up and sent these to the hospital's board and all the higher ups before speaking to us about the situation directly. They're erasing all of her files as we speak."

Something in Enji's hard gaze falters at her words

"In your email to the board, you described the situation as if Y/n took advantage of Touya's mental state. You made her look like—like a monster. And she was the best thing to happen to your son." She spat, words calculated and cruel as she glares at Enji with nothing but hatred simmering in her gaze

The cries you had been trying so desperately to hold back finally escape, and a strangled sob leaves your lips. The broken sound tears through the air like a knife. Enji blinks as if he doesn't understand a single word that leaves your supervisor's lips before his eyes harden again

"I don't want her fired—"

"But that's what's going to happen! What else could you expect?" She explodes, tears of frustration in her eyes as she grips the back of your chair with trembling fingers

You've worked under this woman for years. She was a constant in your work life–and she'd helped you become a wonderful doctor over time. But this one slip up—one that could've been controlled if Enji hadn't intervened—would mean the end of your time here.

And Enji knows you were the only doctor Touya was willing to cooperate with. The only one he would even listen to.

"Did you know we had to add another month to Touya's rehabilitation plan when Y/n took one sick day? He behaved absolutely terribly in those few hours. He went backwards in terms of progress. And now, Y/n will not be allowed to treat him ever again. Do you understand what you've done?"

And reality finally slaps Enji in the face. Hard. Because his entire demeanor deflates in a second as his face falls

He finally glances at you, and you're an absolute wreck.

You're tugging at your hair, your lips are quivering as you struggle to stay quiet and keep your emotions in check. Even though it didn't matter if you started wailing at the top of your lungs—you had already lost your job, there was no need to try and compose yourself now. But you remain ever professional, stifling your cries as much as you can as your chin wobbles.

Someone's rubbing your back in an attempt to soothe you, and Enji takes a step away from you like he's been physically struck

You had just failed Touya. You failed him.

He was sleeping blissfuly unaware a few floors up, oblivious to the fact that your carelessness was going to destroy everything you had worked so hard on building

Touya's heart is fragile. He was going to break.

Touya needs you like an artist needs their muse. Touya needs you like a dancer needs their music. Being separated from you would be like tearing a flower out of the ground—he would just wilt and waste away until there was nothing left.

CARNATIONS MASTERLIST.

a/n; i know a lot of people talk about touya's eyes but wow...they really are so beautiful. like, they are other worldly. i'm rewatching clips of him and oh my goshh he is my muse forever and ever idfc how many new interests i get over the years. no one can come close to the place he has in my heart. 🥺

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dabi dreaming of hawks doing the kabe-don w him.... honestly, same hehe

+Hawks w Tsukuyomi cus i miss them :'3