Mini Art Dump Of My Recent Favs Ft Fem Bkdk

the favour

k.bakugo

-in which he needs a date to an event, and you owe him.

sex pollen troubles - ft. k. bakugou

summary: prohero!Bakugou gets hit with a sex quirk. too bad his roommate hates him—right?

wc: 1.8k

pairing: prohero!Katstuki Bakugou x roommate!reader

content warnings: MDNI, Bakogou has a roommate because his therapist tells him to, fem!reader is an investigative journalist, gratuitous use of Ace (hello gilmore girls fans) idiot Katsuki, pining Katsuki, fingerless gloves make an appearance sorry not sorry, making out, fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk, pet names like baby, pretty girl, princess, breeding but only if you squint

a/n: word vomited this out in less than 24 hrs

He’s praying you don’t pick up.

“Bakugou?” You sound annoyed, a little suspicious even.

He never calls you.

“Ace.” You hate that nickname, but the thought of saying your actual name in the desperate growl that is his voice right now makes his head spin. “I need - fuck - are you home right now?”

Sex quirks are a dime a dozen these days. He’s been hit with a few before, simple one that are usually pretty easy to shake. (He still hates the premature ejaculate memory, though, coming home with his boxers stiff and an image of you spread out on his bed playing like a film in his head. He hadn't been able to look you in the eyes for weeks.)

He’s never been hit with one as strong as this. The second the mist hit his nostrils he was huffing up the scent of vanilla and citrus and strong black coffee, just the way you like it, before he realized what was happening, the villain ripping down the street in the opposite direction while arousal hit him like a truck.

Bakugou's practically doubled over talking to you now, the ache in his dick throbbing in time with his fucking heartbeat.

“Yeah, I’m home.” Even annoyed you sound like heaven. “What’s going on? You don’t sound like yourself.”

He barks out a laugh, and before he knows it, he's telling you the truth. “Got hit with a sex quirk. A big one.”

Your breath bitches slightly on the other line. He’s pretty sure his cock jumps at the sound.

“And I - " need you right fucking now - “fuck - I can’t call anyone else.”

It has to be you. He’s got women he could call, sure, anyone who might want to get into a pro hero’s pants, but it has to be you for a reason he doesn’t want to look at too closely.

You’re silent for a beat, before you say, “Send me a pin. I’ll come get you.”

He hated you at first. Always talking his ear off about every fucking thing, bringing up articles that remind you of cases you're covering—it was like living with Deku dialed up to 11.

But what he hated even worse was when you stopped talking. When you realized he wasn’t actually gonna come around and be nice to you, when you figured out, oh fuck, he’s actually just an angry prick, and left him alone.

One day he could count on constant chatter when he was back from patrol, the next, nothing at all. You even switched up your schedule so he barely saw you, a fact he didn’t tell his court-ordered therapist because he was supposed to be getting better at being around other people, not worse.

He hates remembering this now with his dick hard as steel and weeping from the tip like he’s fucking 15. The alley is secluded, thank fuck, so no one can see him shaking and groaning, forearms braced on the wall in front of him, head hanging down like a panting dog. He can barely move; every brush of his pants against his erection like a live wire to the brain.

By the time you pull up—five minutes, forty six seconds later, he counted—he’s so frayed and tense that the minute he sees your face, he shouts, “Took you fucking long enough."

Your face shutters closed the way it always does around him, and he wants to fucking die.

“Fuck, Ace, I’m sorry - it’s just, I’m fucking miserable right now - "

“Why did you call me, Katsuki?”

It’s a mistake to look you in the eye. His restraint is a razor’s edge at this point, and seeing your beautiful face is too much. You've always been pretty, but the light shining on your soft hair is convincing him he can write fucking poetry all of a sudden.

“You know why,” he grits out.

You step forward, vanilla and citrus and coffee flooding his nose.

“No, I don’t. You act like you fucking hate me half the time and ignore me the rest.” You scrape a hand across your face in frustration. “And then you call me sounding like that. Why wouldn't I be confused?"

“I want you.” It’s out of his mouth in a flash, and he knows it’s the right thing to say by the way your shoulders relax. “I’m a fucking asshole, I know it. I’m not good at feelings, baby, I'm sorry, but I want you so fucking bad it’s like I could break my teeth over it. It has to be you, Ace, fuck, I’m sorry, it can’t be anyone else - "

You shut him up your mouth, your lips locking into his as both of your noses bump against each other. He doesn’t care; he just needs you as close to him as he can get you. It’s better than anything he imagined, finally touching you, finally giving in to the attraction that’s dogged him ever since you walked into his life.

You taste like coffee and a little bit of that strawberry lip gloss he loves so much. He licks into the seam of your mouth and relishes the shiver that goes through your body.

“Like that, baby?” He breaks away, nosing at your jaw, nipping at the juncture of your throat. That makes you gasp. “You smell so fucking good here.” He jerks his hips, hisses through his teeth as his cock jumps in his pants, pulsing with need.

“Let me,” he hears you say, and you’re tugging his pants open to get your hand around him. The second your fingers wrap around him his eyes roll up in his head. He could cum just from this, he realizes.

“Of course you’d have a pretty dick,” you say with a look of annoyance, and he’s not entirely sure what to say to that besides puff up his chest. You laugh, and it’s almost fond, and goddammit he wants you more than he’s ever wanted anything else -

With a growl, he pulls your hand away and backs you up against the wall, peppering kisses down your neck. The whines he’s pulling from your mouth is making everything in his life worth it. He’d fight a thousand fucking villains if it meant this, fingering the seam of your panties under your little skirt as you cry out for more.

“Wear this for me?”

“Like fucking hell I did,” you retort.

“Sure thing, princess.” He runs the pad of two fingers over the soaking wet seam of your panties. A feral grin passes over his face as your thighs tremble and press together. “This just happened to you all on your own?”

He roughly pulls your panties to the side to gather up the slick at your entrance, pushing your hips apart and settling himself between them.

“You’ve gotta come first, pretty girl.” You like when he calls you pet names; he’s been watching the way your skin breaks down out in goosebumps each time. It’s a like a drug being this close to you, making you feel this good. “The second I’m inside ya I’m gonna blow my fucking load so be good and come for me, yeah?”

The rough material of his fingerless gloves rubs against your clit as he stuffs two fingers in your pussy. Your little hole sucks him in greedily as you whine and buck against him.

“Harder, Kats, please - you won’t fucking break me - "

He adds another finger to stretch you out, keeping his palm rocking against your pubic bone with every grind. You’re fluttering around his fingers, whimpers echoing off the walls in the alley.

“That’s it, baby, there you go. Fuck, yeah, you like me stuffing this pretty pussy full?” You dig your nails into his scalp as you hold onto him for dear life, whimpers ratcheting up to moans and cut-off screams as he starts to feel your cunt clamp down hard on him.

You moan his name against his neck as you cum. “Just needed to think about me stuffing you full?” He can’t help but smirk, which quickly turns into a hissing groan when your hand finds him again and positions him right at your core.

“I could say the same for you,” you smirk, rolling your hips and coating the head of his cock in the slick of your orgasm. He chokes on his spit, bracing one forearm on the wall behind you, his free hand stilling your hips in place.

“Lift me up,” you pout.

“Didn’t know you were bossy.”

“Didn’t think you would like it,” you shoot back, rolling down onto his cock and taking an inch of him inside you. “This position’s better, isn’t it?”

“Of course it is, you devil woman.” He can barely think. “Baby, I don’t - god fucking damn it - I don’t have any - "

“I’m on birth control and I’m clean.”

“Same. Clean, too, I mean.” He’s rambling. He never rambles. “I’ve got my check-up stats in my phone if you’d like to see them.”

You laugh, and it’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard in his entire life.

“Can I kiss you?”

It takes him aback, but he’s been dying to know what you taste like since he met you, honestly.

“Yeah, pretty girl. You can kiss me.” He nips at your mouth and laughs at your pout when he pulls away. “Let me get all the way inside ya though first, huh?”

He feeds you his dick inch by inch, clenching his teeth at the way you squirm and plead for more. You’re slippery and warm, your cunt making obscene squelching noises with every rock of his hips.

With one final thrust, he’s seated up to the hilt, balls slapping against the meat of your thighs and ass.

“So fucking perfect,” he moans in your ear. “All for me - just for me, isn’t that right, Ace?”

Your head jerks up and down in affirmation.

“Say it, pretty girl. Say you’re fucking mine. Tell me how much you like my dick getting this pussy nice and tight. Bet I can get her to scream again, huh?”

He pinches your clit between two fingers. You jerk in his arms.

“Close, princess? Like it a little mean?”

He rocks his his up so he’s dragging the head of his cock across your g spot, over and over. Your eyes roll back in your head and your breathing gets shallower, shorter.

“Please please don’t fucking stop, ohmygodohmygod feels so fucking good, Kats- "

Your pussy clamps down on him like a vice and all rhythm flies out the window. He grabs the meat of your hips and fucks up into you roughly, shooting thick ropes of cum against your cervix.

The creamy sticky ring at the base of his cock when he pulls out is probably the hottest thing he’s ever seen in his life.

He looks up at you, sees the appreciative gleam in your eye. You're turned on by that, too.

“Can we do this again when we’re home?” he asks. “Maybe after I’ve made you dinner?”

The smile you return is like the sun. “We better.”

ProHero Bakugou x UA teacher reader (best friends to lovers)

Part 6

Your palms were sweating before you even walked through Minas front door Katsukis gift tucked neatly into your bag that you’d been gripping for dear life. Sleep never came last night, after reading Katsukis simple confession you couldn’t focus on anything else. He may have deleted the text from the chat, but you felt like it’d be burned into your brain for the rest of your life.

“Oh em gee! Merry Christmas love bug?” Mina squeals, her arms reaching to wrap tightly around your neck. She was wearing a Mrs. clause dress, and if you had to bet money you’d bet Kiri was wearing a matching suit. “You look adorable.”

Once a year you’d allow yourself to dress ridiculously in holiday cheer, wanting to feel the cheer you wore instead of dreading the day. Christmas wasn’t a holiday you particularly cared for, especially this year. Christmas just never felt like Christmas.

But today you decided you’d ignore the nagging voice in your head telling you to stay home and embrace the bright red candy cane stripped dress that matched your ruby painted lips. It was simple but effective. Candy canes mean Christmas enough, and if Mina approved you felt honored.

“Thank you, you look cute too Mrs. Clause.” You beam, pulling away to look past her to see the house filled with old classmates and strangers. “Quite the party Mina, how do you know all these people?”

“Mostly coworkers.” With a wave of her hand she leads you through the house, waving and greeting her guests as your hand aches from her grip. Once inside the slightly less crowded kitchen, she pushes you down onto a stool and places her hands on your shoulders to keep you from moving. “Now tell me everything, he’s in love with you?”

You knew she’d care more about Katsukis text than the party bumping around you, but you didn’t expect her to nearly be foaming out the mouth in front of everyone as she begged for details. It’s not like there were any to give anyway, you’d ignored his message while your heart beat painfully fast in your chest.

“We haven’t talked about it. He said he’s coming here, so I figured we would tonight.” Your fave twists in discomfort as your shoulders struggle to hold her weight that’s still pressing down into them. “Mina, ease up. You’re about to crush me.”

“When he gets here, you better forget the rest of us exist.” Her hands pull back, moving to rest on her popped out hip. “Just make sure you make him feel terrible for clocking you first.”

-

The next few hours seemed to blur together agonizingly, you didn’t speak to anyone and no one spoke to you. You hadn’t left your spot in the kitchen, crippled with anxiety knowing at any second you would be confronted with the reality of your feelings and have to come clean. Or at least that’s what you thought.

With every minute that ticked by, you felt yourself growing increasingly more disappointed. It’s been 2 and a half hours and he still hadn’t come to the party he said he’d be at. Instead your old classmates offer uncomfortable waves as they pass you in the kitchen, each time your heart dropping when non of them turn out to be who you’d been waiting for.

When the clock hit 1pm, you decided to call it a night and give it a rest. If he planned on showing up, it wouldn’t be an hour before the party ended, he hated parties but he hated being late even more. He’s not coming and you’d gotten your hopes up for no reason.

“Alright, I’m gonna head out.” Mina could sense the sadness in your voice as you pass her in the living room, but for once she couldn’t think of anything to make sense of the situation. He stood you up, and even to her it was obvious. “New years at my place right?”

“Yep! Me and Kiri will bring the champagne.”

The clock on your night stand read 10:28pm when you entered the darkness of your bedroom. Your limbs feeling like weights, dragging behind you as you make your way to the plush comfort of your mattress. All you wanted right now was sleep, and it was just seconds away.

Your exhaustion prevented you from caring about the heels still secured around your ankles, or the bag you land on with a thud. You looked ridiculous but the sad ache in your chest made you feel ridiculous. You’d been mad at him just days ago, now he was ditching you before you could even forgive him.

On the drive over you bit at your lip until it bled, the bitter taste of the iron pouring from the skin was the only temporary distraction you had from what was really bothering you. A thousand questions played in your head as you half paid attention to street lights and cheerful pedestrians. But one question in particular had bothered you more than the others, enough to cause your stomach drop and cheeks to flush.

What if he sent the ‘I’m In love with you’ text to you by mistake and he’d meant to send it to whoever he’d been ditching you for tonight?

-

A light brush against your ankle pulls you fearfully from your sleep. You’d been dreaming peacefully about a typical day at work, your students all giggling and laughing at a meme one of them had posted in the classroom discussion chat- but it was ruined by someone breaking into your apartment to- tickle your ankle?

“Hold still, I’m just tryna get these damn things off of you.” Relive replaces your previous confusion and fear, seeing Katsuki holding your foot delicately while working to undo your heels buckle. “Change into something warmer than that ugly ass dress, I’m gonna take you somewhere.”

“What?” Still half asleep, you let him slide the heels off and fall to the floor below. How could he expect you to follow his order after not showing up? “Don’t touch me.”

You felt overwhelmed, seeing him standing casually at the foot of your bed with an unreadable expression on his face as he stares down at your sleepy figure. You hadn’t seen him in an entire month, but now he was here, in you bedroom. Because he let himself in.

“You need to give me my door key back.” You huff when he doesn’t move. “I’m not going anywhere with you. Your gifts in my purse, take it and leave.”

Of course you’d originally planned to watch him open the thoughtful gift you’d gotten him in August, but you still couldn’t stop imagining him with someone else as you pathetically waited for him to show up. Was he holding her feet in his lap while they watched Jim Carrys Grinch? Or did she toss popcorn at his head as he dozed off every few minutes? Was he doing all the things you wished you’d been doing?

“Then you won’t get your gift.” He shrugs, watching you struggle to sit yourself up without flashing him. “You’ve been talkin about it so I think-.”

“I don’t care about a present! I don’t.” All you wanted tonight was to sort out this uncomfortable and hurtful pulling in your chest that hadn’t stopped in over a month. His gift meant nothing, especially when he didn’t even care he’d done it again. “You lied to me, again. You weren’t there, again. I waited for you for hours again.”

“Then you show up to my apartment and let yourself in. Not even saying sorry or trying to explain why you had me feeling stupid sitting by myself, fighting back tears because you were probably out with some fucking girl again.”

His eyes widen, not expecting you to disagree or confront his lack of attendance. It was sad, but you enjoyed watching his mouth mimicking a fish out of water, not knowing what to say to your half assed confession. Yes, you’d been waiting for him and yes him seeing another person while you waited made you burn with envy.

“I-I wasn’t.” Is all he says, earning a scoff from your chest. Like you’d believe him now, being blocked for a month and stood up the day you were supposed to see him? “I wasn’t, and I know why you don’t believe me- and I hate that I did that to you, but I can explain.”

“I don’t wanna hear it Kats.” Reaching into your purse that you’d previously been sleeping on, you grab his gift and reach it out to him. His heart sank seeing the way your eyes couldn’t meet his, but he takes the small wrapped gift nonetheless. “See you around.”

“I needed help, she took too long and I had to find somewhere last minute. I didn’t ditch you on purpose.” His hand runs through his hair that looked like he’d already been pulling at it, all while making things worse for himself. “I can’t even explain because you won’t come with me to see for yourself.”

“Shouldn’t you be asking her?”

“My mother?”

That’s how you ended up wrapped in the jacket he’d lent you the night he blocked you, shuffling across the parking lot behind him. You don’t miss the way he looks over his shoulder every few seconds to make sure you’re still there, and if you weren’t so cold you may have blushed. Angry at him or not, you’d grown to crave his attention, and after a month without it- it felt like foreign territory.

“The hag gave me shit all damn day, so keep that in mind.” He seemed nervous as he pulled open the passanger door, waving his hand to gesture you to enter. When you take your seat, you flush- the previously mentioned cold gone and replaced with a warm heat in your neck. “She spelled it wrong and I had to call around to find more and believe it or not almost nothing is open on Christmas.”

You can’t do anything but stare at the reason he couldn’t make the holiday party. Your chest bubbling with excitement and your heart about to explode and run a marathon all at once. It was never a huge deal to you, but clearly it was for him.

On the dash across from the passanger seat was your name, in baby pink letters followed by the words passenger princess.

“Why would you do that?” You finally ask, running your fingers across the letters in shock. This car meant the world to him, and he was ruining it by adding a tacky sticker? “E-even if it bothered me this is too much.”

“No, it’s not.” He closes the door, allowing you a few uninterrupted seconds of silence to process your thoughts. “You’ll never find another thing in this car that doesn’t belong to you or I.”

“It wasn’t that big of a deal.” Even if you hated the earring falling into your lap so much you told Mina and felt sick. “It’s sweet, but it’s not necessary.”

“We’re goin to my office, buckle up.”

-

Neither of you spoke on the car ride to his agency, but you could sense he wanted to. His fingers wrung themselves around the steering wheel over and over until the leather had started to squeak against its thread and made your ears hurt. His posture had slumped dramatically, leaving him to lean against his door as he parks in a spot labeled with his hero name.

It was weird to realize in all the time you’d known him, not once had you been inside his office. You’d met him in the lobby, or in the cafeteria on many occasions, but his office had never been visited. Why was it significant now though?

“She’s with me.” Katsuki calls to a small woman sat in the lobby, her eyebrows pulling together as her mesmerizing golden eyes land on you. “Don’t log it, won’t be here long.”

“Why are we here?” You mange to ask, stepping off the elevator you’d just taken 17 stories. “Am I allowed to be here?”

“Yep.” Which was code for ‘nope’. His finger work quickly to type a code onto the small key pad before he turns to you and opens the door. It wasn’t what you were expecting, to say the least. He always had the biggest and best of everything- but his office was no bigger than your bedroom and only had his desk and a couch directly across from it. “Now ask me why a hero like Dynamite would be put in a random office the size of a closet when he’d been offered a penthouse room with floor to ceiling windows.”

“Uhm, the sun? Maybe? I don’t know?” You couldn’t think of a single reason why he’d choose such a random office if he’d always went on and on about the luxuries he planned for his future office. “Why?”

“You’re afraid of heights. We went to an amusement park one time in highschool and I never forgot.” The door closes behind you, and he makes his way to stand behind his desk, hand reaching for the two framed pictures on either side of his laptop. When he turns them, your heart races all over again. “I have two decorations in this entire room. I’ve been here for years and this is all I cared to have.”

The first photo was a picture of him and his parents at graduation, his cocky smirk playing at his lips as his parent smile proudly. You remember taking the photo and how his mother told you how beautiful you looked in your graduation dress. One that had been a gift from her son, he’d given it to you the night before with heat settling over the bridge of his nose.

The second one, the one that had your mind jumbling and palms sweating- was a photo of you. Not of the two of you together. Not even a group photo with your other friends present. It was just you. He’d taken the photo when he’d accompanied you to a farmers market, at the time you’d of sworn he hated being there, surrounded by all the things that brought you joy. But seeing the photo of you holding a bouquet of flowers with a peaceful smile- maybe you’d been missing his true emotions when he grumbled that you looked fine. When you asked him to send you the photo, he said he deleted it because it was blurry.

“I-I’m not sure what to say.” You were excited, flattered and even honored for him to have your photo on his desk. Knowing he saw it everyday made your eyes shine, and allow you to finally move toward him instead of by the door. “Do you want me to find you more decorations?”

You wanted to be sure you weren’t misreading, maybe he chose the room due to your fear of heights incase he ever needed you to bring him lunch or something. And maybe the picture was just a reminder of your friendship?

“Look, I know how you felt when I blocked you- but I had to give myself time to try to get over you.” He places the photos back in their respective places and joins you on the small couch. “The time I spent not in your life only proved to me I needed to be in it. Everyday I woke up and debated on showing up at UA and dropping to my damn knees in front of those brats just so I could get the point across.”

“What point?” You were holding your breath, ready to hear him vocalize the text he’d sent and unsent that had sent you spiraling. One of his hands settles in your lap, grabbing yours softly, the other moves to tilt your chin up to see his crooked half smile that made you dizzy. “Kats-.”

“I’m in love with you.” His hand on your chin drops, moving to rest on the back of the couch behind you. The other tightens around yours and pulls your interlaced hands to his lap. “I’ve always been in love with you.”

Your heart could literally give out at any second, you read his text but tried to convince yourself it wasn’t meant for you. Were you dreaming? Or was he actually sitting beside you with stars in his eyes?

“You don’t have to say anything, I don’t expect you to unpack all of this after everything I’ve done.” You nod, jaw on the floor as his thumb runs across your knuckles soothingly. “You’d always have a guy around, relationships or flings or what ever you want to call em. So I never said anything, I wanted you to be happy even if it wasn’t with me. I was gonna tell you that night, but when I asked if you enjoyed fuckin with me that night I watched you dancing and you said maybe it pissed me off and I snapped. I’m sorry, for all of it.”

“I said maybe because I did like you giving me your attention, but it wasn’t because I was trying to mess with you.” Did he truly believe you were capable of exploiting his feelings like that? Had you known you’d of never have acted like that. You were just jealous and angry and stupid. “If you’d have told me-.”

“I know, don’t start freakin out.” You were more than freaking out. Your hand would slip from his any second from the sweat pooling between them, you were crashing out. “Raccoon eyes got drunk and probably told me way more than she should have.”

“What did she say?” You’d had so many conversations with Mina about him you’d throw up if he knew half the things you’d said about him. He doesn’t seemed worried or bothered, so maybe she left out the parts that would humiliate you into hiding. “I actually don’t want to know.”

“Just, give this time to settle and we’ll talk about it in a few days.” His hand leaves yours, rubbing against his jeans as he stands to his feet. God that’s embarrassing. “Let’s go, I left your gift on your coffee table.”

“Wait!” He hadn’t even made it to the door, but you panicked. Did he not want to hear what you had to say about any of it? “Are you not curious about what I have to say?”

“If your friends an honest drunk- I’d say I have a pretty good idea.”

———

SORRY ITS SO LONG AND SORRY ENDING IS SUCK

I wanted to post a long blurb to apologize for the last one 😅

Also, unfortunately tags are closed for this story. It’s hard to tag so many and it’s part of the reason I’m updating slower, I have to copy and paste them 5 at a time and it takes like 30 minutes bc tumblr crashed 9million times when I do😭😭

I’m sorry and I love you guys 💖

-Parchy💖

———

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He Goes Through Your Phone

Bakugo x reader

Tags: Mostly fluff and crack with a touch of angst

Comments mean the world to me <33

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Katsuki doesn’t like to admit it, but trust doesn’t come easy to him. He overthinks everything, even when he’s sure he shouldn’t. That’s why you and he agreed on an open phone policy—it gave him a little extra peace of mind. And honestly? You didn’t mind. If scrolling through your phone every now and then made him feel better, then so be it.

Tonight, though, something’s clearly off. He walks into your shared room, already looking more wound up than usual. Without a word, he flops down onto the bed next to you and rests his head on your shoulder.

“Brat, can I see your phone?” he asks, his tone clipped.

You scoff, flicking his forehead. “Excuse me?”

He groans and tries again. “Babe, can I see your phone? Please?”

“That’s better,” you say with a smirk, handing it over. He sits up a little, unlocking it with his face—a feature you set up just for him.

Katsuki stretches out on his back, holding the phone above his face. “What weird shit have you been up to lately?” he mutters under his breath, scrolling through your apps.

He starts with your messages. Nothing. Moves to your search history. That’s when you see his face twitch.

“‘Do men get hormonal monthly like girls?’” he reads aloud, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “‘Why is my boyfriend so angry and moody?’” His crimson eyes snap to you, full of accusation. “‘What’s the equivalent to a period for a man?’”

You bite your lip to hold back a laugh, but it slips through anyway. “I mean, those are valid questions,” you tease, shrugging.

“Valid, huh?” he grumbles, giving you a sharp side-eye. “You trying to diagnose me or something?”

“I’m just saying,” you say, poking his cheek. “You’re an emotional guy, Katsuki. And by emotional, I mean sassy. And moody.”

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t press it. It’s clear he’s just messing with you—until he opens your camera roll.

At first, he’s quiet. Too quiet. Then, he freezes, staring at the screen before sitting up again. “What the fuck?”

You glance over, curious. “What’s wrong?”

“Why do you have so many pictures of me sleeping?” he demands, holding the phone up like it’s evidence of a crime.

You shrug, trying to play it cool. “Because I’m creepy.”

He stares at you, unimpressed.

“Okay, fine,” you say with a grin, ruffling his blonde hair. “You’re cute when you’re asleep. It’s the only time you’re not yelling or breaking things.”

“Dumbass,” he mutters, turning back to your phone. He keeps scrolling—and then he freezes again.

This time, his reaction is even louder. “WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!”

You flinch at the sudden outburst. “What’s what?”

“THIS!” He shoves the phone in your face, pointing to the screen. “Why the hell do you have a whole folder of shirtless anime guys?!”

Oh. That.

You try to stifle a laugh, but his expression is priceless. “Katsu, it’s not that serious!”

“Not that serious?!” he snaps, holding the phone like it’s evidence of betrayal. “Why do you have so many?!”

“They’re just cartoons!” you say, trying to keep a straight face. “It’s not a big deal!”

“Not a big deal?!” he shoves the phone under the pillow, out of your reach. “Okay, how the hell would you feel if I had a whole ass folder of big titty anime Bitches, huh?”

You blink, trying to process the comparison. “That’s—”

“Don’t.” He glares at you like you’ve already proven his point.

“Babe, come on, it’s not—”

“Don’t talk to me right now,” he growls, rolling over to face the wall.

You stare at him for a moment, torn between laughing and apologizing. His ears are red, his posture stiff, and you can tell he’s genuinely bothered—even if it’s ridiculous. You settle for gently poking his side.

“Katsu…”

“Shut up,” he mumbles, his voice muffled.

You sigh. “I get it , okay? I’ll delete the folder.”

You sigh, leaning your forehead against Bakugo’s back as he stubbornly ignores you. “You know you’re being a baby right now, Katsuki.”

“I’m not being a fucking baby,” he snaps, his voice muffled by the pillow.

He suddenly sits up, turning to glare at you with that familiar fiery expression. “My girlfriend is out here looking at other guys on the internet!”

You blink, unimpressed. “Katsuki, they’re literally two-dimensional. They’re not even real people. Jesus, get a grip.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he retorts, crossing his arms. “Am I not attractive to you or something?”

That’s when you lose it. A laugh bubbles out of you, and the sheer ridiculousness of the situation makes it impossible to stop.

His scowl deepens, his crimson eyes narrowing at you. “Oh, wow. You’re laughing. Wow. If the roles were reversed, I’d be six feet under by now.”

You try to rein it in, grabbing his shoulders to steady yourself. “Katsu,” you say between giggles, “you are my gorgeous baby boy.”

“I DON’T FEEL GORGEOUS RIGHT NOW!” he shouts, his face turning red as he glares at you.

You burst out laughing again, and his jaw tightens. “Oh, great. You’re really laughing at me now. Just wow.” He flops back onto the bed dramatically, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Do you hate my body or something?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, no!” you exclaim, exasperated. “You’re never this insecure, Katsuki. Where the hell is all this coming from?”

He lifts his arm just enough to glare at you. “It’s coming from the fact that my girl is looking at shirtless guys!”

“Shirtless fictional two-dimensional FICTONAL guys,” you correct with a smirk.

“Oh, I’m sooooo fucking sorry,” he says, sitting up again to stare daggers at you. “Let me correct myself. My girlfriend is looking at shirtless drawings of dudes with male anatomy! Cuz that’s soooo different!”

“Exactly!” you quip, but the humor fades a bit when you see the genuine hurt in his eyes.

“Even though,” he continues, his voice rising, “her real, breathing, jacked as hell boyfriend is right here!”

You frown, your heart sinking. His tone may be harsh, but his shoulders are tense, and it’s clear this is more than just him being annoyed.

“Katsu…” you start, but he cuts you off.

“And I haven’t heard a single real apology out of your mouth,” he mutters, rolling back over to lay on his stomach, face down in the bed like he’s done with the conversation.

You sigh, leaning down to rest your chin on his back. “I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to make you feel like this.” You gently run your fingers through his hair, hoping to soothe him. “You’re gorgeous, okay? Like, drop-dead gorgeous. Those guys don’t even exist, but you? You’re real, you’re mine, and no one else even compares.”

His shoulders tense, but he doesn’t say anything. You press a kiss to the back of his neck. “You’re the only one I want, Katsu. Always.”

he mutters, “You better delete that stupid folder.”

You smile. “Already gone.”

You run your fingers gently through Katsuki’s blonde hair, your voice soft as you ask, “Do you still love me?”

He mutters into the mattress, “Not sure.”

“Katsuki…” you say, a little more firmly.

He groans, rolling his head to the side so he can look at you, still sprawled out on his stomach. His crimson eyes narrow slightly, but the hurt is still faintly there. “I guess I still love you... I suppose,” he sighs dramatically. “But just so you know, you’re gonna be on my shit list for the next few weeks.”

You snicker despite yourself, but he keeps going. “And, for the rest of the week, I’m gonna need you to address me as ‘My Lord’ or ‘Dynamite God.’”

“I’m not doing that,” you say flatly, your fingers weaving soothingly through his messy blond hair.

“Fine,” he grumbles. “Then I’ll settle for you telling me everything that’s awesome about me.”

You giggle, leaning closer. “Well, for starters, you’re incredibly handsome.”

“Uh-huh,” he says, clearly enjoying this. “And?”

“You’re very powerful, super strong… and everyone else just sucks compared to you.”

“Damn right,” he smirks. “Keep going.”

“You have really pretty eyes,” you say, smiling as you watch his expression soften. “Red’s my favorite color, you know.”

“Mmm-hmm,” he hums, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “What else?”

“You make me laugh, you’re sweet—”

He shoots you a sharp look. “Sweet? Sweet? You and I both know that’s a damn lie.”

“Okay, okay,” you concede, laughing. “You’re… very considerate of my feelings.”

“Just like you’re very inconsiderate of mine!” he fires back with a huff.

“Quit it,” you say, moving your hand to rub slow circles on his back. “What about the goods? You wanna hear about your body now?”

“Damn right I do,” he says, turning his head fully to face you, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Well,” you start, dragging it out just to tease him, “I love your hands. I love your voice, your hair, your chest… and your abs.”

He raises an eyebrow, looking smug. “Go on.”

“You’re so yummy,” you say with a little grin, leaning down to kiss the side of his face.

“Yeah, but you still look at shirtless dudes on the internet,” he mutters backhandedly, though the playful tone is there now.

“Come on, Katsuki. Are we still on this?”

“Fine,” he says, rolling onto his side and giving you a pointed look.

“And I love you,” you add softly, leaning closer. “So much.”

He groans like he’s annoyed, but before you can say anything else, he grabs you and pulls you flush against his chest. His arms lock around you in a tight hug that makes you squeal as he buries his face in your neck.

“Oh, and by the way,” he murmurs against your skin, “if I catch you doing that shit again, I’m blowing up your phone.”

You open your mouth to reply, but he silences you with a big, warm kiss, his lips pressing firmly against yours. When he finally pulls back, he smirks down at you.

“Got it, brat?”

“Got it,” you whisper, smiling.

@itsafairytalekay @redr0sewrites @dekusdante @starlightanyaaa @sillysushi @anemo-fandango @tropelovingpainter @themultifandomgirl @eis1kitsune @yumii-34 @dekusdante @hearts4tsuki @niktwazny303 @sonufabitchhhhh @kodzubaby @harryzcherry @seimeizuru @m3nt4lly1ll1 @misaki-kira8 @pretty-sparkle-bomb @yandere-fetish @bakunianadecorazon @kxllanxtdoor @rikislove @sagejin

BOYFRIEND KATSUKI

pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader

synopsis: just some random texts with bf!katsuki.

NOTE. hehe it’s late n im a little drunk but enjoy <3

Giving your "best friend" some flowers

Luci interacting with the other sins.

‘Haven’t posted art in a while so have this old thing from my files

the reason for the season

BY THE BOOK : MIDORIYA IZUKU X READER

SUMMARY: When your pro hero boyfriend comes home to find you studying, he suddenly takes a great interest in helping out. You find his methods... questionable. TAGS/WARNINGS: nsft, hysterical literature (reading out loud while sexually stimulated), pro hero deku, deku still has ofa, support tech grad student reader, slight intelligence kink, gn + afab reader, cunnilingus, established relationship, aged up characters, fluff (3k) NOTES: Hi guys! I have been in survival mode as of late and the writing has been slow going; my sincerest apologies for how long it’s taking me to burn down my @ficsforgaza backlog. But I finally had the time & energy on my hands this weekend to work on this one and I had such a blast!! I hope I’m not too rusty–and if I am, I hope you enjoy it as much as I loved writing it regardless lol. Love you and thank you always for your patience. Happy Holidays!!

Sometimes, you thought you could tell your boyfriend was near, even before you heard his key in the lock.

It was something to do with his power, you’d always suspected—as a support engineer unduly interested in other people’s capabilities, you’d spent hundreds of hours turning it over in your head. It was the unnatural immensity of other people’s powers, you thought, pulling and coiling just beneath the surface of Izuku’s skin. In close proximity, after prolonged use, its presence felt like a shiver up the back of your neck.

You felt the barest hint of it now, an unsettled feeling creeping into the marrow of your bones, and you sat up on the couch just as you heard the scratch of Izuku’s keys at the door.

One For All fit cleanly into Izuku’s own unwavering intensity somehow, like the last piece of his puzzle. Though one would certainly never think so looking at him as he spilled through the door, pink-cheeked from the cold, all bright eyes, sweetly angelic features, and a riot of wild green curls. He looked windswept from the biting winter breeze. He also looked too kind to be carrying the sort of power he did—too sweet and eager and lovely.

“Look what the wind blew in,” you grinned at him over the back of the couch, after assessing he was well. Your eyes tracked the sinuous movement of those broad shoulders as he yanked his mouthguard over his head, the flex and pull of his bicep as he hung it beside the door. He was moving without pause, no sign of injury or muscle strain , and his suit was intact. Ordinarily you didn’t mind if there was a bit of shredding about the abs as long as he came back to you whole and hale, but in the winter you didn’t like him wandering about risking the chance of frostbite.

Your heart fluttered when Izuku returned your smile with one of his own, so beautiful and bright, chasing away the cold he’d tracked in like a warm sliver of sun.

“Lots of small, easy fights today?” You guessed, judging from his intact suit but clear whiff of power about him.

Izuku scrubbed a hand through that riot of curls, exposing the reddened shell of a cold ear. “I only had to use blackwhip a couple of times,” he said as he shouldered the door closed behind him, the muscle of his thighs flexing enticingly as he stepped out of his boots.

You gestured at the pot of soup you’d left warming on the stove, and the veritable pile of crusty bread beside it. Warmth and carbs, exactly what you would have wanted if you were a pro hero fresh off a long day of patrolling in the snow.

Izuku’s eyes fixed on it with an obliging amount of interest, and he almost tripped over himself in the genkan in his haste to get to the kitchen. “I love you,” you heard him say, muffled through a mouthful of bread, heard the clatter of the silverware drawer and a bowl being placed on the counter.

You smiled and turned back to the book in your lap, a particularly dry, knotty text on robotic imitation learning that had had your eyes drifting closed for the better part of an hour. It was the last you’d need to get through for your Wearable Technologies graduate course, and something you were deeply interested in incorporating into your design practice. You could train a piece of equipment on how an individual pro hero moved and deployed their quirk, and use predictive modeling to deploy assistance functionalities within milliseconds if you got it right—such as immediate cooling in pro hero Shouto’s temperature vest the moment he ignited an arm.

The implementation was going to be so cool—but the theory was so mind numbing.

You felt the couch sink in beside your feet, and Izuku peered interestedly at the title in your lap.

“Introduction to Robotic Imitation Learning,” he echoed, and you could hear the note of excitement in his voice. You suppressed a fond smile, knowing he was already thinking through the same applications you had—he was just as much of a nerd as you were.

“Introduction to Snoozing and Napping,” you grumbled, turning back to your page. “There are only so many words on the Kalman filter framework a brain can handle before the human mind shuts itself down.”

Izuku hummed in interest around a spoonful of soup, propping himself up against your leg. The exterior of his suit was still cool from the outside, and he groaned with relief from the warmth of your skin, even as you hissed at the chill.

You knew he wanted you to go on, so you generalized for him. “It’s an algorithm used for robotic motion planning—you not only take measurements of the thing you want to model but you account for uncertainties to predict the probability that something is going to happen.”

Izuku nodded, taking another spoonful of soup, gesturing for you to go on.

You summoned up the willpower to explain joint probability distribution, pleased when Izuku easily managed to follow—he’d always been a quick study, especially of anything that could be employed in the service of heroics. You’d long thought if he hadn’t been gifted his quirk, he would be an insane support engineer.

He managed to finish his entire bowl of soup in the time it took you to explain, and housed another two slices of buttered bread with the sort of alacrity you’d only ever seen in pro heroes and professional athletes, making you smile while you spoke.

His spoon clinked softly against the edge of the bowl as he set them aside on the coffee table, and he hooked his chin over your knees as you finished explaining. In the setting sun from your windows he looked especially lovely, the kind, angular planes of his face brushed in gold, softening the spots of his freckles.

His eyes were especially bright, the way they always were when something in particular had caught his interest, and he smiled at you again over the tops of your knee caps.

“I admire how smart you are,” he told you, in the simple, straightforward way he always gave out compliments. It was like a shot to the heart every time, and you could feel your face warm with the praise even after years of receiving similar compliments.

You reflexively flapped a dismissive hand. “Not smart enough to have internalized it all! I have mostly been falling asleep to it,” you promised him.

He tilted his head, a green curl falling into his eyes. “I know you won’t have a problem when you’re awake.”

You shifted your legs with embarrassment, and a long fingered hand came up to cup the front of your thigh, as Izuku turned more fully towards you. You could feel the warm, hard planes of his chest against your shins, the line of his jumpsuit’s zipper pressing insistently just below your knee.

“Gotta try to impress you somehow,” you joked, your skin prickling as Izuku’s fingers absent-mindedly drew a pattern across your thigh. You could feel the heat of his hand through the thin material of the leggings you’d lounged around in all day, the chill finally chased away from his skin now that he’d come inside and warmed up.

“You do impress me,” he said in his soft, gentle tone. Which made your cheeks and nose burn hotter.

You knew you did, and the steady faith Izuku had in the people around him was one of your favorite things about him. It still made you feel like a middle schooler with a crush to think about, though, the intensity of your feelings too much for one body to handle.

“I will study hard to live up to your faith in me,” you promised, unable to help the goofy smile you knew you were giving him.

Izuku’s chin shifted against the tops of your knees, and he pressed his mouth to the knob of your left one, leaving a smiling kiss. “Tell me more?” he asked, fingers still sliding softly over your thigh.

“I’ll read it to you as I go, then,” you said, turning back to the brick of a tome, propping it up more firmly on your stomach as you adjusted yourself against the couch arm. Izuku’s eyes watched you over the top of the pages, that emerald gaze tracking your face closely.

“‘The algorithm works via a two-phase process: a prediction phase and an update phase’,” you began, trying to turn your attention away from Izuku and back to the text. “‘In the prediction phase, the Kalman filter produces estimates of the current state variables, including their uncertainties. Once the outcome of the next measurement (necessarily corrupted with some error, including random noise) is observed, these estimates are updated using a weighted average, with more weight given to estimates with greater certainty.’”

Izuku’s long fingers traced firmer lines across your thighs, almost like he was taking notes. He layered another kiss along the line of your knee, eyes glittering at you as you read.

“‘The algorithm is recursive,’” you continued, “‘It can operate in real time, using only the present input measurements and the state calculated previously and its uncertainty matrix; no additional past information is required.’”

You almost jumped as Izuku’s mouth trailed lower, into the space between your knees, leaving kisses along your inner thigh. His fingers gently pulled one thigh away to make space for him in between, and you cleared your throat, trying to return to the text at hand.

“‘Optimality of Kalman filtering assumes that errors have a normal–that is, Gaussian–distribution,’” you read on. “‘The following assumptions are made about random processes: Physical random phenomena may be thought of as due to primary random sources exciting dynamic systems. The primary sources are assumed to be independent gaussian random processes with zero mean; the dynamic systems will be linear.’”

Izuku let out a soft breath, insinuating himself further between your thighs. Your own breath came out a little uneven as he bent over you, mouth tracking dangerously towards the inseam of your leggings.

You paused, but Izuku fixed you with a look of his slightly-darkened eyes. “Please—keep reading,” he said, his tone a little lower than it had been a minute ago.

You swallowed in shocked understanding, skin tingling. You felt yourself nod, as Izuku’s fingers strayed to the waist of your pants, dipping below the band.

You let him slowly peel your leggings down, your underwear with them, adjusting as needed to make it easy for him, even as you tried to return your attention to your textbook.

“‘Regardless of Gaussianity, however, if the process and measurement covariances are known, then the Kalman filter is the best possible linear estimator in the minimum mean-square-error sense,’” you quoted, nearly squeaking when Izuku pressed his mouth to your hip, his curls tickling the skin of your belly. His hands gripped either side of your thighs, palms square and rough against your skin, and you tried not to shiver with the feeling.

“Um—‘Although there may be better nonlinear estimators’,” you said, then nearly jumped out of your skin when Izuku pressed his mouth to the core of you, only the strength of his grip stopping you from accidentally kicking him in surprise.

“Oh my g—uh! It—um—‘It is a common misconception perpetuated in the literature that the Kalman filter cannot be rigorously applied unless all noise processes are assumed to be Gaussian,’” you managed, before your cut off into a groan as Izuku layered a hot, sweet kiss over you, tongue dipping carefully between your folds. “Ah-–Izuku—”

Izuku petted a thumb gently over the top of your thigh to show he was listening, even as he swiped his tongue over you again, a long, firm stroke that had your thighs flexing in his hold. He laved over your clit, sucking ever so slightly, and your grip almost tore the edge of your textbooks as it tightened.

“Keep going,” he urged briefly, then did it again, punching a groan out of you.

“Extensions—oh—‘Extensions and generalizations of the method have also been developed, such as the extended Kalman filter and the unscented Kalman filter which work on nonlinear systems,’” you read on, voice shooting up nearly into a squeal when two of Izuku’s long, firm fingers pressed into you, as his mouth moved over you again.

“Ah! Oh my god—the—um, the basis—-” you said, breath growing short. Izuku’s fingers unerringly found the spot inside you that made you twist in his grip with the ease of long practice, and his jaw worked as he kissed you so shockingly filthily. You could feel something already starting to build up behind your navel, a fluttery lightness, an insatiable insistence on more.

“‘The basis a hidden Markov model—oh, fuck—such that the state space of the latent variables is continuous and all latent and observed variables have–ah!--Gaussian distributions,’’’ you recited, your voice tripping up further into a register that sounded more like begging than reading.

Izuku’s fingers worked you, long and thick and perfect inside you, as his tongue drew unrelenting circles around your clit. Stars seemed to spark in your vision, and your eyes squeezed shut, losing your place on the page as your hips flexed into his face. You felt suddenly very floaty and lightheaded, and not at all in a position to keep going.

Still, you tried to refocus your attention.

“‘K–Kalman filtering has been used successfully in—oh—multi-sensor fusion—ah, ah!--and distributed sensor networks–fuck, please, Izuku—to develop distributed or consensus Kalman f-filtering,’” you said, your tone nearly a cry.

Izuku groaned softly, sucking gently as his fingers curled inside you. It made your veins spark under your skin, your legs shaking in Izuku’s hands. You abandoned your grip on your book to seize the arm of the couch, clawing desperately at the fabric.

“Please, Izuku,” you cried, hips bucking towards his mouth.

The book tumbled off your stomach but you hardly noticed, gaze refocusing on the way his eyelashes fluttered as he licked you. His fingers played gently within you, a maddening press that was simultaneously too much and not enough, and his other hand came up to slide under your sweater, plucking gently at your nipple.

You lost yourself to the feeling—caught between the mind-melting curl of his fingers, the delicate suction of his mouth, and the careful pinch of your nipple. A delicious heat curled through you, waves of unbearable pleasure, and you could hear yourself babbling nonsense—garbled syllables of Izuku’s name, and every entreaty you could think of, a hundred thousands mores and oh pleases.

Izuku abandoned your nipple to pull you more firmly against him with a strong arm curled under your thigh, pressing you even harder into his mouth.

You muffled a scream in the sleeve of your sweater as he sucked you harder, tongue laving over you in loving strokes. Only his terrible strength held you down as you writhed beneath him, and then his fingers twisted in a way that had your vision whiting out—and you were suddenly thrown out over the edge of your pleasure.

Izuku licked you through it as you squirmed and begged and cried out his name, your climax seeming to last for eons.

You were panting hard when you finally slumped into the cushions of your couch, the ceiling seeming to swim in and out of focus before your eyes. When you gained enough control of your body again you looked down at Izuku, finding him watching you with a satisfied, almost shy curl to his mouth.

“You’re beautiful,” he told you, emerald gaze glittering with sincerity. “You’re so smart.”

Impossibly you felt your heart swell with even more love for him, and you seized his shoulder, dragging him up over you so you could kiss his mouth. The taste of yourself on him was embarrassing yet thrilling, and you petted a pleased hand through Izuku’s wild mess of curls as you kissed him.

“Well you are amazing,” you told him, swiping a thumb over his cheek fondly, smoothing over his freckles. A gorgeous watercolor of pink washed over his cheeks and nose at the proclamation, and you could hear his fingers flex in the cushion beside your head.

The sight of him flushed and waiting over you like another small something inside of you, like a pilot light, and you let your mouth pull into a wry grin.

“I hope you know I learned nothing though,” you said casually, your plan for your next steps already forming in your head. You let a hand trail carefully down Izuku’s flank, tracking towards his waist. “I think maybe I might need a few rounds for it to really sink in.”

Izuku’s ears went red against the green of his hair, and you felt your smile widen. “Maybe you could read it to me this time?” you asked, guiding him to roll under you, retrieving your book from the floor as you did so.

You settled yourself on the tops of Izuku’s thighs, feeling the hard press of him against your core, as you placed your textbook into his waiting hands.

Izuku’s answering smile was all the permission you needed. You directed him to start from the beginning of the chapter, and he did so in that soft, lilting tone of his you so loved. And then your fingers trailed up to the zipper at his collar.

It was time to return the favor—wholeheartedly.

REFERENCES: Kalman Filtering (Wikipedia) I took the passages our Reader recited from here because I do not actually understand Kalman filtering at all and could not organically come up with feasible text for her to read through. Sorry in advance to the author of this page lol.