Deku-sensei & GEMG Dynamight ♡♡♡♡♡

bakugou “do it yourself—no—i’ll do it” katsuki.

In simple theory, you have your husband, Bakugou Katsuki, wrapped around your finger. And he can fight it all he wants, but it’s nothing if not the wholehearted truth.

“Hey, can you grab me some coffee?”

Bakugou didn’t even look up from his phone. “No. Get your own damn coffee.”

“Fine,” you sighed dramatically, turning your attention back to your work. You didn’t miss the way Bakugou grumbled under his breath as he stood up a few moments later. When he returned, he placed a steaming cup of coffee on your desk without a word.

You hid your smile behind the rim of the cup. “Thanks, Katsuki.”

“Whatever,” he muttered, glaring at you.

-

Later that afternoon, you two were sparring in the gym in the comfort of your home—courtesy to your husband insisting that it’s a non-negotiable when arranging the first designs of your dream home together. You were struggling to move one of the heavier training dummies back into its original position, and once again you had the brilliant idea of putting your theory to the test.

What’s the point of having a husband if he doesn’t let you do things like these?

You let out an exaggerated sigh and turned to Bakugou, who was wiping sweat from his brow. For a moment, you forgot what you were about to say—momentarily distracted by how good he looks, muscles glistening and all with his signature black tank top.

Goddamn, you scored a hottie.

“Katsuki, help me move this,” you called, pointing at the dummy.

“No way,” he shot back immediately. “You’re the one who moved it there, so you deal with it.”

“Fine,” you sighed, turning back to the dummy and giving it an exaggerated shove. Before you could try again, Bakugou had stormed over, cursing at the dummy under his breath. He grabbed the dummy with one hand and effortlessly dragged it back into place.

“There. Happy now?” he grunted.

Oh, so it could be resist, then actually do it, or refuse while doing it anyway.

You smiled. “Very. Thanks, Katsuki.”

“Shut up,” he growled, his ears slightly tinged with pink.

-

By the end of the week, it had become a game for you. You’d ask for the simplest things, knowing full well that Bakugou would always refuse—only to do it anyway. Maybe it’s his love language to refuse but comply nevertheless.

“Can you pass me the remote?”

“No. Use your legs.” Hands it over.

“Can you open this jar for me?”

“Do it yourself.” Opens it in one twist.

“Can you get groceries on your way home?”

“Fuck no.” What do you mean he’s already loading the grocery bags in his car?

“Can you carry my bag for a second?”

“Die. I’m not your damn pack mule.” Carries it all the way home.

-

One evening, you two were sitting on the couch of your home, eating takeout and watching a movie. You were cuddled up with a freshly ironed blanket—thanks to Bakugou, who had done the laundry yesterday while you did the ironing when everything had dried enough—poking at your food lazily. You turned to Bakugou, your head resting on the couch cushion.

“Hey, can you grab me some water?” you asked with a sweet smile.

Bakugou glared at you, pausing mid-bite, his usual scowl in place. “No. You’ve got legs. Use ‘em.”

“Okay,” you said simply, turning your attention back to the movie.

You decided that you’ll get water once you finish this specific scene.

Bakugou lasted all of five minutes before he let out a loud groan, stomping to the kitchen and returning with a glass of water. He shoved it into your hands, his expression equal parts annoyed and resigned.

“There,” he grumbled. “Happy now?”

You took the glass with a smug grin. “Thanks, Katsuki. You’re the best.”

He sank back onto the couch, crossing his arms and glaring at the screen. “You’re so damn annoying.”

“You love me,” you said teasingly.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, his ears turning red. But he didn’t deny it.

“Married me, too. So I don’t think you mind at all.”

“Die.”

“‘til death do we part, Kats.”

And despite all his protests, you knew the truth. Katsuki Bakugou might have sworn you’d never have him wrapped around your finger, but with every little thing he did for you—grudgingly or not—you knew you had your conclusion.

Even if it’s a little bit.

SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

i suffer from 'men are hotter banged up' disease. unfortunately there is no cure.

Bloody and bruised >

i overheard you - ft. shoto todoroki

synopsis: your best friend hears you masturbating. what's a pro hero to do?

cws: timeskip!shoto, virgin!shoto, soft!sex, like the softest I’ve ever written, honestly sub!shoto, experienced!reader, fem!reader, pet names like sweetheart and angel

A knock sounds at the door. You nearly drop your vibrator in shock, fumbling with the button to shut it off, the noise deafening in the dark of your room.

“y/n?”

Shoto.

Fuck.

“Yeah?” your voice is hoarse. How on earth are you supposed to talk to him when a minute ago you’d been actively picturing his mouth on your pussy?

“Can I come in?”

Heart hammering, you stash the vibrator under the covers, shuck your pajama bottoms back up, and run a hand through your hair. “Sure!”

His two-toned head peeks into the room. “Lights on or off?”

Your whole face is on fire. “Off, if you don’t mind.

He dips his head. Fuck, is he blushing, too?

You wrap your arms around your legs while he pads across the room. He’s not wearing a shirt. The distracting amount of skin on display is messing with your ability to think. A simple pair of boxer briefs sits low on his hips; a trail of hair leads down to an impressive package that makes your mouth dry up at the sight.

You cannot fuck your best friend you cannot fuck your best friend –

The bed dips with his weight. He doesn’t say anything for a few moments, staring down at the carpet like he can drill a hole into it.

“Sho?”

His head whips up.

“Sorry,” he says in a brief burst of laughter. “I thought I had an idea of what to say when I came in here and now that I am” - he gestures at the bed – “I have no idea how to say it.”

“It’s just me,” you say, brushing his shoulder with your hand.

“That’s exactly it. It’s you.” Frustration colors his tone and a light bulb goes off in your head. You don’t know what to say to that, but you have a sneaking suspicion where his head is.  

“Did you hear me?” 

Shoto blushes so furiously you can feel the heat pouring off the left side of his body. He nods.

“Did you come in here to do something about it?” 

His mouth falls open before he turns his expression into something closer to determination. It makes you want to kiss him so badly your teeth hurt.  

“That was my original plan, yes.”

Your skin tingles. You drop your arms from your knees and angle yourself closer to him.

“What did you want to say when you first came in here?” 

There’s the softest touch of his finger against your pinky before his hand covers your own. 

“I wanted to ask you if I could help. If you’d let me watch.”

Your heart roars in your chest. You’re surprised Shoto can’t hear it.

“You want to help make me come?”

Shoto swallows, and answers in that level deep voice of his, “Yes.”

“Okay then.”

You pull the vibrator out from beneath the covers, trying not to laugh at Shoto’s obvious expression of dismay.

“Come lay down next to me,” you say, patting the space next to you. He lays down next to you but he’s hovering, holding himself back, so you grab his hand and drape it on your hip. His breath hitches, calloused fingertips brushing against the band of your sleep shorts as he pulls you closer to him. 

“Will you help me take these off?” you whisper into his ear.

Hair brushes your cheek as he nods. His thumb hooks under your shorts and tugs them down your legs quickly. His breath is already shaky.

“What’s your comfort level here? Do you want me to tell you what I’m doing? What I like?

You figure that taking the lead is in the best of both of your interests, and honestly, the idea of telling a pro hero what to do is sending a bolt of arousal through your gut. How much would he like being ordered around?

“Please,” he says, and fuck, you’ve never heard this man so undone. Breathy and tense, Shoto’s eyes drink in your skin like he’s discovering the ocean.  

“I only have the rabbit with me, so I’m going to use the ears on my clit while you watch, okay?”

Another fervent nod, like he doesn’t dare look away. 

“What do you want me to do?” he asks.

“What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know,” he says, a divot appearing in between his brows. “It already feels so good just lying next to you.”

Your heart feels like it’s about to crack in your chest. 

“Try not to think too much about it too much,” you say, placing a hand on his chest and scooting closer to him. “It feels good for me, too, just being here with you.”

You press a kiss into the hollow of his throat and turn the vibrator on, holding it to your clit. He can feel your breath catch on his skin. His hand grips down on your hip, hard, his own rutting against your side.

“Talk to me. Tell me what you like to see.”

“Fuck, okay.” He expels a breath, and it’s already hotter than anything that’s ever happened to you because it’s Shoto swearing in your ear. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’m a little overwhelmed. You look… I can’t even describe how beautiful you look.”

“That’s all right.” His words wash over you, turning your insides to jelly. You turn the vibrator’s intensity up one. “You’re already on the right track.”

“I am?” 

“Mm-hmm. You’re already making me feel good, Sho. Believe in that. Talk to me.”

The combination of praise and command seems to jolt him into action. 

“I like seeing you like this,” he starts, voice a little shy. He kisses your forehead, moves his hands along the soft skin of your hips. “I like hearing the noises you make, the soft little gasps when you touch yourself.”

It was tame for dirty talk, but you feel each word like a thunderbolt. 

“What else, baby?”

His breath hitches again.

Oh, he likes that. 

“I want to be the reason you’re making those sounds. I want my fingers inside you when you come.”

You shudder, the vibration against your clit drawing you closer to that dark, deep kind of orgasm you only have when you’re turned on beyond reason. You guide his hand to the inside of your thigh, the slight friction of his callused skin on yours making you whine.

He props himself up on one elbow and peers down at you. His brow is furrowed, concentration set clearly on his face. You cup his cheek and kiss him before you think to stop yourself. Here his confidence kicks up, even when the kiss gets messy, your tongue against his teeth.

His thumb sweeps over your clit. You jump at the sensation and also at the strength of your reaction. You were already keyed up from earlier and having Shoto next to you has only amplified how fucking horny you are. He’s watching you with such intensity, such obvious need. 

A finger nudges your entrance. 

“I can touch you here?”

You can barely nod.

“Thank fuck,” he says, and rearranges you both so he’s kneeling in front of you, spreading your knees open and sliding two fingers inside of you.

“Sorry. I wanted to look.”

It’s so Shoto, and it’s so hot that you whimper and buck your hips up to meet him.

“Looking is a critical part of learning.” Is that your voice? You sound like you just finished a marathon. 

Shoto huffs a soft laugh, eyes trained on your pussy. When your eyes meet, he leans down to press his forehead to yours.

“You’re so soft here, sweetheart,” he says, fingers moving in and out. The pet name feels so warm on your skin you almost want to cry. 

“More, Sho, please.” 

He adds a third finger, the stretch making you moan.

“Are you this wet for me?” He doesn’t give you time to answer, his thumb circling and pressing down on your clit over and over. “I can feel you around my fingers, angel. You’re squeezing me so tight.” His voice breaks. You’re spinning inside of yourself, everything narrowing to the thrum of your clit, that burst of sensation every time Shoto’s thumb rubs against you.

“Yes yes, exactly like that, please don’t stop touching me,” you chant, hardly recognizing your voice.

“Do you want the vibrator back? Is this—will this be enough?”

It normally wouldn’t be, but you’re literally fighting to keep yourself from coming as it is.

“Will you lay down, Sho?”

Uncertainty crosses his face briefly but he complies, lying down next to you like he had at the start. You hardly give him time to settle before you’re straddling him, pressing your soaking wet pussy against his cock. Shoto chokes on a whimper, hand pressed against his mouth.

“Don’t you dare not make noise for me,” you hear yourself say. All you can think about is the ridge of his dick in between the folds of your pussy, how much you can’t wait to have all of that inside of you. “I want us to come apart together, okay?” 

His hands are tight on your hips, grinding you down. 

“Fuck, you feel too good,” he pants. “Fuck. Fuck. I’m gonna come, I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’m gonna fucking come, I don’t know much longer I can last.”

Your pussy makes obscene squelching noises as you slide, up and down, over and over, on his dick.  “Stay with me, just a few more seconds. Come on, fall apart with me. Fucking fall apart with me like a good boy, okay?”

You’re right—the pet name seems to detonate Shoto’s last shred of control. He growls against your throat, thrusting up into you, the ridge of his cock rocking perfectly against your clit until you’re falling, flying over the edge. Shoto’s name falls from your lips in a chant; your own name echoing in the space between you as he comes in his briefs.

In the afterglow of your orgasm, you lay on top of him listening to the thunderous beat of his heart. Touching him feels sacred, divine. Is this what people feel when they love someone? 

“y/n?” Shoto’s voice is breathless. He sounds awestruck. 

“Yeah?” You prop up on his chest to look at him. His eyes are closed, a smile creasing the corners. The need to kiss him is like a physical tug in your stomach. 

“That was amazing.” He opens his eyes and smiles widely. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re amazing.”

“You were pretty good yourself, you know.”

(watch me fuck around and write a part two)

Momo 🏖️

Leather and Lace

BikerBakugou x Ballet instructor

Part 4

(All photos from Pinterest)

You’d been grumbling to yourself as you balanced the bowl of water in your hand, swinging the door open with your other, in a rage you couldn’t quit place. As the wooden door flies open and you lean forward to place the bowl onto the porch Izukus cat had apparently claimed as home- a hand reaches out to grab the stupid Gatorade you’d tucked securely under your arm. You didn’t have to look up to know it was Bakugou, the black jeans and black sneakers you were eye level with were proof enough.

“Don’t you have illegal money you can spend on your own beverages?” You hadn’t quite settled from the shaking from your almost run in with the law, so seeing Bakugou with a smug look on his face made your anger worse. “Stop coming here, I don’t want t-.”

“I didn’t come here for the drink, just needed you to open the door.” You hadn’t even returned to your full height, but Bakugou was strolling past you and into your home that you hadn’t invited him into. “We need to talk.”

“Get the hell out-.” Your protests are cut short, and completely ignored when Bakugou places his phone to his ear and steps into your living room. “What the hell!?”

“I’m working on it, stop blowing my phone up.” You could see his shoulders tensing as a loud voice yells from his phone. Who ever he was speaking to, was not too happy and Bakugou clearly didn’t want to be speaking to them about it. “I told you it wasn’t her. Pull me from the roster and tell your damn investors to mind their business the only contract I’m signing is one that gets me far the hell away from you.”

Bakugou ends the call and shoves his phone into his front pocket, you didn’t know if you should continue trying to kick him out or question what the hell he’d been talking about. As the air stills around you and headlights pass through the living room Bakugou finally turns back to face you. The uncomfortable and tense moment he’d just experienced seeming to have passed before you’ve registered what was happening.

“You decorate this place yourself?” He asks, eyes roaming your colorfully decorated living room painfully. While his face twists in disgust seeing your choice in decor, you clear your throat to catch his attention. “Never mind, I can tell you did.”

“Why did you just let yourself into my home?” You weren’t expecting company and seeing the pile of dishes in your sink suddenly made you feel self conscious. “And can you leave now?”

The Gatorade he’d lied about wanting is set on your coffee table, being forgotten as Bakugou plops down onto your vibrantly yellow sofa. For someone who accused you of stalking him- he sure was making himself at home. You’d asked him to leave and instead he sat himself in your spot.

“Who else did you blab to?” A frustrated sigh escaped his parted lips, making you raise an eyebrow in disbelief. He came all the way here to ask that? That’s literally why they invented cellphones. “And what did they have to say?”

“You couldn’t have texted me? You have no issue texting me for a damn sports drink.” You’d already been in a weirdly angry mood before he showed up so his stupid reason for showing up was just the icing on the cake. “You need to leave.”

“I feel like it’s in your best interest I stay put.” Awfully arrogant. You scoff and cross your arms, sitting on the opposite side of the couch and glancing in his direction. He looked calm, but the twitch of his index finger resting on his thigh made you question if he was just pretending to be. “Someone mentioned you by name to me, heard about what happened with the cops.”

“Me?” No one had been around when Bakugou pulled up and got you out of there. Did Jiro tell someone else? She wouldn’t have, right? “I only told Jiro. All she told me was she was surprised you helped.”

“You understand that if you’d have stopped following me around this would have never happened, right?” His eyes stay trained on your bread shaped coasters while you fight the urge to scream. “Stop coming around and you should be fine.”

“You’re aware you showed up here, right? Maybe you should stop coming around.” The constant accusation that you’d been following him around was starting to make you boil with anger. “Let’s not forget, you continue to approach me. You continue to text me. I’m not sure what gave you the impression I’m obsessed with you, but I promise you it’s actually quite the opposite.”

Your feet tuck themselves below you, angling you to face the man who stared back at you with an angry expression. If you didn’t know any better, you’d assume he was actually bothered you weren’t obsessed with him. He came here to talk about your name being brought up, so maybe he truly was obsessed.

“Look, whatever is going on will blow over eventually, I can guarantee I won’t be at another one of those races. Against my will or not.” You notice his finger that had been previously twitch now twists a black ring on his middle finger. Was he really this worried? Was it because he knew who your dad was? “Why are you worried anyway? Wouldn’t I be the one in trouble? You didn’t say they mentioned you by name.”

“If my suspicions are correct, you’re only being mentioned to attempt to drag me down when you fall.” What? Why would anyone assume he’d be the one helping you if you were in trouble over this? As far as literally everyone( including yourself) knew, you hardly even knew him. “You work at the dance place right?”

He had to have heard about it from Izuku, but you were still surprised he knew anything about you at all. Like previously mentioned, you hardly knew him and figured he hardly knew you either. Still, knowing he knew where you worked made you wonder if that day in the rain he’d only gone past you because he knew you’d be there. He seemed to have splashed you on purpose any way.

“Why does it matter?” You question instead. Figuring bringing up the rain incident would only piss both of you off more. “Looking for a job? I don’t think teaching little kids ballet would really suit y-.”

“I know someone who goes by there, I’ll have him keep an eye on you.” A hand runs through his hair, another sigh leaving his lips as he stands to his feet. “Stop letting raccoon eyes drag you out so much. It’s obvious you don’t enjoy it anyway.”

“Hold on- keep an eye on me?” You all but laugh, you weren’t a child who needed baby sat. Plus, if your name was brought up what could his friend do against the literal police? “Unless your buddies a cop I don’t see how he could be of much help.”

“Firstly, he’s not my buddy. He just owes me a few favors.” Looking up at him, you can’t help but feel a weird sense of relief. At least he seemed to want to keep you out of trouble. Even if it was trouble you never wanted to be a part of to begin with. “Secondly, he is a cop. Unfortunately for you though, I could care less if you got arrested.”

“Huh? Then why are you worried that someone knows my name?” He says nothing, watching you stand to your feet to follow him to the door. He came over to talk, yet he wasn’t giving you much information at all. “You’re sending me a baby sitter, that implies you care if I get arrested.”

His hand reaches for the doorknob, not commenting on what you’d said and ignoring you clear thirst for information. With little time to react and a thousand questions running through your mind, you reach forward and slide the lock before his fingertips can even come in contact with the metal. If he was going to show up, let himself in and then send someone to keep tabs on you- he could at least tell you why.

“I forgot, daddy probably never taught you to mind your business.”

His jab seemed to be spiteful, as if your relationship with your father had affected him somehow and throwing it in your face made him feel better about what ever it was that bothered him about it. Your eyebrows come together in confusion, not noticing him reaching around you to unlock the door and pull it open in one swift motion. The door comes in contact with your back, pushing you forward just enough to collide with his chest.

“Learn to stay out of things you know nothing about.” The embarrassment trailing up your neck reaches your face the moment he looks down at you. “It’s not the police I’m worried about, your dad would bail you out regardless of your lack of communication.”

“Then who are you worried about?” You couldn’t think of a reason he’d show up here if not for the police nearly catching you. You step back, tucking your hair behind your ears as you press further. “The police are the only people who’d be looking for me right? To try and link me to the racing or whatever, so-.”

“I don’t have time to explain this shit to you, so just carry on and stay the hell away so I can handle it without you showing up every time I leave my house.” Your eyes roll, watching as he steps onto the porch where, of course, Izukus cat laid happily. “Just take the damn cat in, he hates Dekus place. It’s not like you have company to worry about him anyway.”

You can’t help but feel annoyed as he reminds you that you don’t have company. He was probably just assuming, but hearing him acknowledge it was both embarrassing and infuriating. Your hand resting on the door begins to close it shut, not caring to properly tell this man goodbye.

“I guess your daddy never taught you to mind your business.”

———

-Parchy

———

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bakugou katsuki doesn’t announce the newfound development in your relationship like a normal person.

one day, he’s in the kitchen within the first breath of daylight, preparing breakfast for two. you slide up next to him, burrowing your head between his arm and chest—and katsuki… he lets you, squeezes you. he kisses you on your temple, “g’morning, baby,” and by then a gasp rips across the silence of the room.

kaminari starts, “what—”

“oh,” ashido gasps, dawning with understanding. “wait—are you two…?”

katsuki bares his teeth at the stunned looks of your classmates, his glare speaking volumes: an unspoken claim.

yes situationship w katsuki!!!!

Situationship with Bakugo Headcanons

(a.k.a. the slowest slow burn of your life because this man is emotionally constipated but obsessed with you)

Denial, Denial, Denial Bakugo refuses to acknowledge that you two are in a situationship. He’ll scoff and say, "Tch, we’re just close, dumbass," while literally walking you to class, bringing you your favorite snacks, and giving you his hoodie when you complain about the AC.

Acts Like Your Boyfriend, But Won’t Admit It Will glare at any guy who flirts with you. Will put his arm around your chair when someone’s getting too close. But if you call him out on it, he just grumbles.

"You hungry?" Instead of asking you on actual dates, he just texts "You hungry?" and drags you to eat with him. Bonus points if it’s late at night and you’re in sweats—he thinks it’s cute but would rather die than say it.

Touch Starved but in Denial Will casually touch you—a hand on your lower back when guiding you somewhere, knee brushing yours under the desk, a firm grip on your wrist when dragging you along. If you pull away just to tease him, he gets irrationally annoyed.

He’s Always Looking for You He won’t admit it, but his eyes always scan the room for you first. If you’re not in class, he notices. If you’re not at lunch, he’s grumbling under his breath, acting like he doesn’t care.

Gets Jealous but Won’t Say It If someone makes you laugh a little too much, he’ll suddenly get so irritated. Will probably glare at them and then pull you away. Who does that extra even think he is, anyways?

Would Kill for You, But Casually If someone ever disrespects you, he’s already rolling up his sleeves. "I'll blow their ass to America, or you wanna handle it first?"

Sleeps Better When You’re Around If you ever fall asleep next to him, even if it’s just leaning against his shoulder during a movie, he’s so still, afraid to move. And if you ever sleep in his bed? He pretends it’s annoying but sleeps like a baby that night.

He’s Down Bad, But Clueless Kirishima and Kaminari constantly tease him about how obvious his feelings are. He just scowls and says, "Piss off. We’re not dating." But if you so much as look at someone else for too long? He’s about ready to combust.

The Final Straw One day, after months of dancing around each other, you tease him: "What, do you actually like me or something?" expecting his usual 'Tch, in your dreams' response. But instead, he just stares at you, jaw clenched, eyes burning—before grabbing your wrist and muttering, "Yeah. I do. So what?" And that’s when the situationship ends—because now, it’s real.

Was re watching beastars and had a vision...

Horikoshi had to kill Sir Nighteye bc he knew Leiko was going to start a polycule if they ever interacted

PHASES OF THE MOON art by Thiago Corrêa

i feel like this is the perfect request cus of your theme

but can you pls write a smau of us asking the mha boys why they aren’t comfortable coming over to our room in our house and they say because of the absurd collection of sonny angels & smiskis and the boys say they’re uncomfortable with naked babies staring at them when they’re trying to sleep ☺️☺️

⁀➷ CREEPY BABIES

pairing. shinso, bakugou, izuku x reader

when they don’t like going to your dorm and you can’t seem to figure out why…

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