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🏁 ꒰ ✩ smut ⋆ mdni ⋆ characters in their 20s ⋆ owner yuuji itadori, best friend megumi fushiguro & puppy hybrid fem!reader. scenting, cucking, voyeurism, daddy kink, dry humping. -> yuuji’s pretty puppy can’t help but get excited when megumi stops by. she loves to help when he gets excited too. good thing she doesn’t treat all visitors this way. only friends.
hold on a second because i moved i really did ;-;
yuuji with his excitable puppy girl who’s obsessed with the way megumi smells :( wags her little tail every time she sees him and licks his face even though yuuji keeps telling you to slow down you can’t!!! you love gumi you love when he stops by!!!! and he lets you clamber all over him, roll into his lap like it’s nothing when he visits and takes up your favourite spot on the couch. and whilst yuuji busies himself with lunch in the kitchen, your teeth at megumi’s neck your slick puppycunt already drooling over his groin as it hardens without subtly.
“you gotta get off, pup,” he says gruffly but his hands settle on your soft doughy hips — carefully pulling you back and forth over his hard on, your tail swishing low and slow. “can’t be doin’ this.”
“but i missed you, gumi… and you smell so nice.” you say and nip at his ear with your pretty canines — the tag of your collar ‘property of itadori’ cool against his collar bones because you’re pushing yourself further against him — trying to merge with fushiguro’s skin. “daddy says it’s good to help friends.”
the dark haired man grins slow, slimy as the expression oozes onto pink lips. he instinctively tips his head back to make room for your teeth that hungrily scrape his neck and your nose that inhales his scent like it’s some kind of drug. you wiggle against his lap, slicker and slicker over him by the second he’d think you were in heat. “yeah?” fushiguro sighs, syrupy and content. “daddy said it’s okay?”
“is what okay?”
yuuji appears in the living room, three glasses of cool iced tea captured between dexterous fingers. he sets them down a safe distance so your happy little tail doesn’t knock them over.
“look daddy, ‘m helpin’,” the way you blink over at him is slow, dazed as you ride fushiguro’s throbbing erection. you rock your hips as though guided by the motion of calm waters, washing over the man beneath you and drowning him in your essence like it is a reward. something to be cherished. if he didn’t know any better — he might mistake your pouty lips and glassy gaze as teasing. “bein’ a good friend.”
the pink haired man scratches behind your pointed puppy ears proudly, grinning as your hips involuntarily buck against his friend’s. megumi’s breathing cracks, fragile and almost whimpery and his palms come down to smack against your ass through frilly bloomers. “good girl, such a good girl. lift your hips, c’mon. lemme see…” he coos, voice a warm blend of honey and cinnamon — running through your system and glazing over that part in your brain which controls your pleasure. “you enjoyin’ helping megumi?”
“so much, feels good. see?” you raise yourself off of him, strings of heavy arousal tying your pussy and your tail to the outline of fushiguro’s dick. it wags obediently, the fluffy appendage now heavy and obscenely wet.
the scent of you curls in the summer air, stuffy and enticing. “keep going for me,” yuuji half groans, guttural and proud. “you make gumi cum like this and i promise you’ll get a reward.”
you like the sound of that, swivelling your hips in sinful circles and spreading your slick across the very obvious bulge beneath megumi’s sweats. his shaft sits comfortably between your clothed folds, nestled against your clit lovingly.
“f-fuck… fuck, puppy,” megumi exhales shallowly, breath cracking open with lust. from both being observed and used. “such a good girl for your daddy, huh?”
“isn’t she just perfect?” yuuji muses, sinking into the love seat across the way. legs spread, cock kicking to life at the sight of his two favourites absolutely ruined.
megumi nods dumbly, rose rouge blooming across his cheeks whilst he guides you back and forth on top of him, an orgasm crackling in the tension-thick air. “most perfect puppy ever,” he swallows.’“prettiest puppy and puppycunt ever.”
end ! likes are appreciated, but just liking doesn’t do much on tumblr! to support and motivate myself and other writers, reply, reblog and comment if you'd like to see more!! — asks are open to thirsts and thoughts! join my taglist ! love you!
NOTE: so obviously I do NAWT condone this behavior AT ALL. I just wanted to see how I would write it. And urgh 😖 I meant to keep the reader gender neutral but I messed up on Sukuna's. Feel free to change the term 'mother' to whatever you'd like!
a/n: i love katsuki w an innocent gf sigh - fic at the end
“alright, c’mere baby.” katsuki leans against your headboard, patting the space between his thighs. “we’re gonna go nice and slow.” he offers you his hand and helps you settle back against his chest.
“do i.. should i.. take my panties off?” your thighs are squished together.
“that’s up to you.” he kisses the side of your neck. “we’ll leave them on for now.” he nods, both of his hands settling on your thighs. “alright.. let’s see.”
he spreads your thighs, resting them over his, taking his time to knead into the plush of your thighs, grinning at the gasps leaving your mouth. each time he slides his hands higher, a small whine leaves your lips. his hands are warm on your skin, calming, but still only aiding in making you hotter, more squirmy.
his thumbs are first to reach your panties, gently brushing against them before he moves his hands back down to continue kneading. he keeps this up until you’re panting and when he finally drags a single finger up the center of your panties he groans feeling how slick they are.
“katsuki!” your thighs twitch.
“doing okay, babygirl?” his lips brush the shell of your ear.
“it.. mm!” you squeeze your eyes shut. “it hurts.” you whine.
“what does?” he pulls his hands off you immediately.
“no!!” you practically sob. “touch me!” you reach for his hand and lead him back between your thighs. “i just.. i dunno what to do.” you press his fingers into the soaked fabric. “make it feel better. please.” you’re panting now.
“shhh okay okay. i’m right here.” he kisses your neck.
he circles your clit and the sound that comes from you has him throbbing in his sweats. your fingers dig into his wrist as he keeps up with a slow pace, lifting his fingers only to tap against the sensitive bud and make you jerk in his arms. he goes back to swirling around your clit, groaning softly as your panties get even wetter.
“kats feels- hngh! kats it’s good.” your nails bite into his skin.
“just focus on the feeling for me.” he hums. “you’re doing so good.”
your thighs are shaking and you can’t stop the moans pouring out of your parted lips. your tummy is coiling, pleasure bursting through every part of your body. katsuki keeps the same pressure but speeds up his fingers and you’re done for.
“kats- katsuki! it’s- ngh! something.. i.. ahh! katsuki!!” your thighs clamp around his hand and you cum hard, tears pricking at your water line.
“that’s my good girl.” he slows his fingers. “how’d that feel?” he pulls his hand out, going back to kneading your thighs as you come down.
“so good.” you melt back onto him. “why.. would i need a toy if you can do that?”
his chest swells and he turns your chin with one of his hands so he can kiss you. “you can use it when i’m away on a mission.” another kiss. “and i can use it on you.”
“show me.” you let your thighs fall open.
katsuki reaches over and grabs the vibrator, showing you how to turn it on. when it buzzes to life you give a little jump, he runs it up your thighs, getting you used to the feeling and watching you squirm. when he gets closer to your panties, your thighs start to close at the vibrations.
“this one’s gonna be a little more intense okay?” he whispers.
“okay.” you nod.
he presses the head right on your clit and you arch off of his chest, moaning and digging your fingers into the sheets. “katsuki! kats it’s- i’m ! already i’m gonna-”
“want me to stop?” he slides it down and away from your clit.
“no! keep.. hah! it’s so.. katsuki!”
he presses the vibrator right over your dripping pussy and you burst, hips grinding agaisnt the toy and when he drags it up to your clit again it’s never ending. you’re bucking off his chest, you can feel yourself leaking and making a mess but you don’t care. all you know is pleasure and katsuki.
“there you go.” he nips at your pulse. “let’s take a break, sweet girl.” he flicks the vibrator off and tosses it to the side.
“should we.. try without my panties?” you’re chest is heaving, legs still shaking.
“not today.” he chuckles.
“why?” you whine.
“i’m not overstimming you today.” he turns your chin again to take your lips. “let’s watch a movie.” he leans over to grab the remote, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close.
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The gym was quiet now, echoes of sparring long gone, sunlight slipping through the high windows and stretching across the floor like warm silk.
“Satoru, we have class,” you mumbled, not really trying to move as his arms stayed snug around your waist, his body comfortably sprawled half on top of yours.
“Nah,” he said, voice lazy and muffled against your shoulder. “This is class now. It’s called ‘horizontal recovery.’ I’m the teacher.”
“If Yaga caught us like this, he’d think we were—”
“—Having sex? I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you, you little freak?” he peaked over from your chest, chin snuggled in between.
You smacked his arm, hard. “You’re impossible.”
He only groaned in mock offense, holding you tighter.
A few minutes passed like that—just soft breaths and warmth, until your laughter from some dumb joke faded into quiet. That’s when you noticed it.
His grip had loosened, barely. His expression was distant. Unfocused.
“Hey,” you said softly, your hand coming up to brush white strands away from his face. “You okay?”
He blinked, once—slowly, like it took effort and then forced a grin. “Yeah, yeah. Just… processing. These lights are brutal, huh?”
Your brow furrowed. “Where are your glasses?”
“…Dead,” he said after a beat, with that same strained smile. “Tragic accident. May they rest in pieces.”
It took a second for it to click. The flicker of discomfort. The way his fingers had tensed earlier, just for a second. The slight wince he tried to hide every time the sunlight hit him just right.
You'd always known about Six Eyes, how they let him see everything, the flow of cursed energy, the layers of reality most sorcerers could only guess at. But you never really thought about what that meant for him.
“…You’re overloaded,” you murmured. “Aren’t you?”
His silence answered for him.
You sat up slightly, shifting so his head rested on your lap. “You’re such an idiot,” you muttered, brushing your thumb over his temple.
He just hummed, eyes falling shut. “Takes one to cuddle one.”
You let the silence stretch again, this time more carefully. His breathing evened out, but the tension in his shoulders never fully disappeared. The light overhead kept flickering—subtle, but probably glaring through his Six Eyes like a spotlight.
After a moment, you leaned down and whispered, “Wanna ditch?”
That got one eye open, glinting with something mischievous despite the obvious exhaustion. “You’re corrupting me.”
“I think we passed ‘corruption’ months ago.” You smiled and nudged his shoulder. “Come on. There’s a supply closet behind the old gym with blackout curtains and a floor that doesn’t squeak. You can nap like a normal human.”
He stared at you, a rare moment of quiet in his expression. Then—“Marry me.”
“Let’s start with standing up first,” you said, already pulling him to his feet.
He groaned dramatically, leaning on you like dead weight. “You sure you’re not trying to hide me from the teachers to commit a crime?”
You grinned. “Only the crime of letting get away with groping me”
He just let out an airy chuckle. "damn you caught me"
And with that, you snuck off together, his arm slung lazily over your shoulders, your pace slow, the sun behind you and the day still spinning. But for now, it could wait.
a/n- umm I actually got this idea from another fic but I lost it😥... so credit to that! (I'll try find I promise)
Summary: Jason’s on a sex ban— or quite literally, a complete touch ban!
warnings: whiny, pathetic Jason.
Jason Todd was an absolute idiot, there was no denying that. But he was a very desperate idiot. And he was willing to do anything if it meant you’d touch him again. You see, you’d put him on a complete sex/touch ban for three entire weeks, and well? Jason was not taking it well.
By day twelve of the three-week sentence, the fearsome Red Hood had effectively ceased to exist. In his place was a six-foot-two, two-hundred-and-fifteen-pound disaster who was entirely losing his grip on reality.
Jason didn’t do things by halves. When he was a crime lord, he took over the East End. When he was an Outlaw, he traveled through space and time. And when he was put on a strict ban by the only person who held his entire heart in her hands, he turned into this absolute menace of compliance.
The apartment had never been cleaner. It was, quite frankly, terrifying.
When you walked through the front door after an exhausting shift, you didn't just smell the familiar scent of Gotham rain and Jason’s expensive cologne. You smelled lemon verbena. You smelled freshly bleached tile
You stepped into the kitchen and paused. The countertops were sparkling so intensely they practically caught the light. Every single dish was not only washed, dried, and put away, but the spice rack had been meticulously alphabetized. Even the labels on the canned goods were facing perfectly forward.
And there, standing by the stove, was Jason.
He was wearing a pair of dark sweatpants that hung low on his hips and a tight, sleeveless black compression shirt that showed off every single rigid muscle, and scar, across his broad back. And the sight normally should’ve been enough for you to jump onto him, He was currently plate-stacking three different Tupperware containers of custom-marinated chicken breasts, a batch of freshly roasted vegetables, and a pot of handmade gnocchi.
The moment the lock clicked, Jason didn’t just look up. His entire body snapped to attention. His dark eyes locked onto yours with this frantic, high-alert energy that reminded you of a stray puppy.
He didn't break the rules. His large, heavily calloused hands clamped firmly onto the edge of the kitchen island to physically anchor himself in place, but his broad shoulders slouched instantly into a pathetic, pleading posture.
"Hey," he said. His voice was incredibly rough, a deep, gravelly rumble that sounded completely worn out, like he hadn't slept in a week— which he hasn’t. How could he without your hugs and kisses?. "I made dinner. I made the gnocchi from scratch. The way your grandma does it, with the potato-to-flour ratio you like. And I prepped your lunches for the next four days."
You set your bag down, looking at the sheer volume of food, then at the pristine kitchen. "Jason... did you scrub the baseboards?"
"Yes," he blurted out, shifting his weight from one heavy foot to the other, his eyes tracking your every movement with an agonizing level of pining. "And I ran the vacuum over the carpet three times to get the lines perfectly straight. And I picked up Lily’s toys and sanitized every single block with baby-safe wipes so she doesn't ingest any rogue bacteria. I did it all."
"Wow," you murmured, leaning against the counter. "You've been busy."
"I'm losing my mind," Jason confessed, his voice dropping into a soft, intensely whiny pitch that would have shocked anyone who had ever seen him pull a trigger. He let go of the counter, taking one agonizingly slow step toward you, but stopping exactly two feet away to respect the boundary. He looked down at you from under his dark lashes, his jaw tight, his white streak of hair falling messily across his forehead. "Babe. Sweetheart. Light of my life. Look at me. I am literally vibrating. I haven't slept in forty-eight hours because every time I close my eyes, I just think about how I'm not allowed to hold you."
"It's only been twelve days, Jay," you teased, crossing your arms and fighting the massive smirk tugging at your lips.
"Twelve days is two hundred and eighty-eight hours!" Jason groaned, a loud, muffled sound of pure misery escaping his throat as he dropped his head back to stare at the ceiling. "Do you know what I did last night? On patrol? I didn't even break any noses. A guy tried to mug a tourist in an alley, and instead of hurting him I settled on throwing him into a dumpster. I'm broken. You've broken the Red Hood."
He dropped his gaze back to you, his chest rising and falling in a heavy, desperate exhale. He slowly sunk downward, dropping his massive, muscular frame right onto his knees on your kitchen tile. He looked up at you from the floor, his hands resting on his own thighs, completely and utterly humbled.
"Please," Jason pleaded, his gravelly voice cracking slightly as he looked up at you with wide, desperate eyes. "Look at me. I'm on my knees. I'm saying the words. I'll be a good boy, sweetheart. I swear to God, I'll be the best boy you’ve ever had. I’ll never let Roy inside a three-block radius of this building again. I’ll make him sign a legal waiver. I’ll personally rewrite Lily’s vocabulary list. I will literally do anything.”
You looked down at him, your heart melting just a little bit at the sheer, unadulterated absurdity of Gotham’s most dangerous vigilante begging for his life on your kitchen floor.
"Are you begging, Jason Todd?" you murmured, stepping half an inch closer.
"Yes! Yes, I am absolutely begging, I have zero shame left," he whispered frantically, his dark eyes instantly tracking your movement, glowing with a sudden, fierce spark of hope. He leaned forward slightly, though he kept his hands firmly on his knees. "I don't even need the whole thing. Just a deal. Let me negotiate. A partial payout. Five minutes of cuddles on the couch. You don't even have to move. I will just lie there like a giant, silent weighted blanket. I won't use my hands. I'll tuck them under my chest. Just let me smell your hair, babe. Please."
"Just cuddles?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.
"A kiss," he corrected instantly, his voice taking on a thick, desperate edge as he looked at your lips. "One kiss. Short. Sweet. Clean. Well, maybe not entirely clean, but just *something*. My lips are falling off, sweetheart. They’re dying. I'm a dying man."
You let out a soft laugh, finally breaking your resolve. The sight of him on his knees, completely devoted, utterly whiny, and entirely yours was too much to resist. You reached out, your fingers gently sliding into the soft hairs at the nape of his neck.
Jason practically shuddered at the touch, a low, ragged sigh breaking from his chest as he immediately leaned his face into your palm, his eyes closing in pure, unadulterated relief.
"Alright," you whispered, running your thumb over his sharp jawline. "The ban is suspended. Just for tonight."
Jason didn't even wait for you to finish the sentence. He surged up from the floor, his large, powerful arms instantly wrapping around your waist and lifting you completely off your feet. He pulled you flush against his broad chest, burying his face into the crook of your neck with a deep, shaky inhale.
"Oh, thank God," he mumbled against your skin
He didn't waste a second moving you to the living room, collapsing onto the couch and pulling you down on top of him. He was a man possessed by pure, desperate compliance, his massive frame sinking deep into the cushions until he was completely flat on his back, using his own chest as a platform for you.
"Rules," he breathed out, his voice a rough, scraped-raw whisper against your hair. He immediately tucked both of his massive, scarred hands flat underneath his own chest, pinning them between his body and the sofa cushions. He looked up at you from the pillows, his jaw open slightly, his eyes wide and completely glazed over with absolute devotion. "Look. Hands are away. I’m not moving 'em. See? Good boy."
You couldn't help the soft laugh that bubbled out of you, leaning your weight fully against his chest. Even stripped of his weapons and armor, Jason was a solid wall of muscle, but right now, he felt completely pliable beneath you, his entire body relaxing into a soft, heavy puddle the second your warmth pressed into him.
"Very good boy, Jay," you murmured, tracing a slow line down his cheekbone.
Jason practically whimpered at the touch, his eyes fluttering shut as he tilted his face aggressively into your palm, chasing the friction of your skin like a man dying of thirst. "More," he pleaded, his voice cracking, entirely unbothered by how pathetic he sounded. "Babe, please. Just keep doing that. Left side of my jaw. Right there. Oh, God."
You smiled, leaning down slowly until your lips were just a fraction of an inch away from his. You could feel the frantic, heavy thump of his heart hammering against your ribs, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps. The fearsome Red Hood was completely paralyzed under your gaze, his chest rising and falling beneath you as he waited for permission.
"Can I?" he whispered, his dark eyes snapping open, staring at your mouth with a hunger that was almost frightening, yet he didn't move a single muscle to take it. "Please, sweetheart. Just a little bit. I’ve been so good for you."
"Go ahead, Jay."
The second the words left your mouth, Jason didn't lunge—he just reached up with his face, his lips meeting yours with a soft, trembling reverence that completely dismantled the tough-guy persona. It was a deep, heavy, agonizingly slow kiss, full of the built-up tension of the last twelve days. He drank you in like oxygen, a low, needy vibration rumbling deep in his chest as his lips parted against yours, begging for more without his hands ever leaving their pinned position beneath him.
Hunhbknhjnkk oh my goodness this man he’s so fine wtf
it was almost midnight when yuji got home. you were waiting on the couch eating the left over dinner he had made from last night. laying on your side with his old shirt a soft pajama shorts with one hand propping up your head.
you had looked like you were about to pass out. yuji waked in the first thing he heard was voices lowly on the tv.
completely dark in the apartment except for a small kitchen light and the tv glow. yuji was toeing his shoes off too exhausted to take them off properly when he had clicked his phone open to check the time.
11:36 pm, but the time wasn’t what made yuji physically recoil. that date did. your birthday.
tears are already building in yuji’s eyes. he had left you all alone on your birthday. you had an off day and decided to spend it doing nothing. while yuji went out fighting curses all day you were home, alone, probably sad, on your birthday.
you hadn’t texted him all day other than replying to what he sent- which wasn’t a lot- he wasn’t even busy. just wrapped up in curses and conversations with whoever was around.
he had slowly walked to the living room, barley making a sound, that’s when he saw you, curled up and looking miserable.
tears were freely flowing down his face now. “baby” his voice was breaking, causing you to turn your head in confusion. “i’m so sorry, i missed it, im so sorry baby i’m so so sorry”
he was on his knees in front of you now, the guilt evident in his voice.
“yuji, what’s going on? what happened are you okay?” you had asked concerned as to while your sweet loving boyfriend was on the floor bawling his eyes out. you had reached out to push his hair back and run your hand along his scalp as a way to calm him down when he started shaking his head in a no.
“no please. i don’t deserve it, i was so mean, so neglectful, a horrible boyfriend, and you’re still being so sweet to me.” he had barley gotten out through his sobs, which were growing louder.
“i’m so sorry, i don’t know how i didnt notice but i didnt and thats no excuse it’s unforgivable. you would never do this to me so i understand if you want to leave.” he rambled about while nodding to some parts and swallowing in between.
“yuji come here,” you patted the seat next to you, sitting up now.
“no, i can’t”
“i’m not asking, come up here,” you stated in a harsher tone.
he had moved to sit next to you. keeping his hands in his lap and his head down, avoiding eye or really any contact at all.
“what’s going on yuji?” you asked pulling him towards your chest and holding his head with one hand while softly kissing the top of his head.
“i forgot” he whispered burrowing his face into your chest.
“forgot what yuji?”
“what do you mean? your birthday? i forgot.”
you had to stifle a laugh at that to which he slightly picked his head up pouting. “why are you laughing? it’s not funny.” he said as if he was offended.
“yuji, honey,” you moved his head away so he could look at y out better. “
“it’s not my birthday.”
“what? but no, look at the date it’s..” he tailed off realizing his mistake. “what the hell. i swore it said that it was your birthday!”
“baby, it’s the same day as my birthday but in a different month.” you weren’t hiding your laugh anymore.
“that’s so embarrassing,” he whined putting his face in your neck.
you took the initiative to play with his hair, “yes, but also really sweet,” he smiled slightly at the praise before lifting his head up and looking at you confused. “how in the world is me forgetting your birthday sweet?”
“well if it was true it wouldn’t be, but it wasn’t. and i kinda liked seeing you cry in your knees. you should do it more.”
he laughed into your neck picking you up and taking you back to your shared room. “noted, but now after that emotional distress i need cuddles. like all of them. immediately.”
bakugou finds a list you made before you dated him
“one. big cock and knows how to use it. two and it’s in all caps. EATER.”
you rest on your forearms on your sofa, looking across the living room to your boyfriend who has appeared from your bedroom. he’s reading a crumpled sheet of paper from god knows where with a massive grin on his face.
“did you get the fan from my room? katsuki, it’s hot!” you whine petulantly. you've got your thin shorts and bralette on, trying to fight the heatwave that has taken over your city.
the heat has beat you down, left you stranded in your living room with three ice lolly packets in your path and skin sticky. you can feel the sweat trickle down your spine, you can see it gathered on katsuki’s exposed forehead, yet he still stands there reading.
“hold on, i’m lovin’ this,” he says, gold tooth shining as his mouth stretches wider, “three. rich and generous with it. is that right? you with me for my cock and money?”
you blink at him a few times, trying not to get distracted by his shirtless bare chest or the black headband he’s got on to push his unruly blonde locks back. he’s handsome, deliciously so. still, you think back to why everything he’s saying is so familiar.
“four. handsome. deliciously so. body and face. rare,” bakugou laughs, boyish and booming, “thanks, babe.”
you feel uncomfortable, perspiration dribbling between your breasts, limbs heavy with exhaustion.
“what is that? what are you reading?”
still bakugou ignores you and continues reading from the paper, “five. successful and ambitious. six. good friend even though he pretends he’s not. protective!! seven. so gentlemanly, holding open doors, paying for dates, very clear on why he likes me.” ruby pupils flicker over to you, “that last one is bare minimum.”
then it clicks, about seven points too late. your head snaps over to him robotically, eyes about to fall out of your head. “where the hell did you find that! stop reading it! stop katsuki!”
you hop up from your seat on your sofa, speed like no other taking over you as you run across the room to grab at the paper in bakugou’s hands. his laugh only booms louder, holding the flimsy sheet in the air over your head as you jump like a child.
“seriously, don’t read anymore!” you shout, trying to hoist yourself up his larger body, using his arms and shoulder as a climbing frame.
nothing about bakugou budges, he just continues reading with the paper in the air.
“it’s getting good, baby!” he laughs, ignoring your jumps and furrowed brows, “eight. listens to me. really listens. makes me feel heard and remembers what i say.”
he looks down at you, whose fingertips are slapping the bottom of the paper. you recognise it all too clearly now. the pink ruled lines, the edges ripped out from one of your old notebooks. your handwriting. “that’s cute. i still listen to you, don’t i?”
“you’re not now! give it back!”
“i’m almost done, two more,” bakugou says, hooking his arm behind your back to keep you locked close to him. you’re both sweaty and sticky. you’ve got no choice but to listen, “nine. cooks. such a good cook! you added five exclamation marks there. ten. fulfils some of my love languages. some?”
“now stop.” you urge. he can’t turn the paper around. he can’t.
bakugou pecks your forehead, his cheeks blushed with all the compliments. he continues skimming the list, rereading it.
“so this is why you chose to date me, huh?” he looks down at you, pours his lips, “c'mon gimme a kiss.”
if you just grab it out his hands, he won’t see the other side. with pros always comes—
he stops pouting at you.
“give me the paper. i wrote this all a few years ago!”
“if these are the pros, where’s the cons? you must have done a cons list.”
you shake your head, side to side. he holds the paper away from you. the opposite side, the list of all your cons, written back at you. you loop out of his arm, trying to reach for it.
he notices you staring, eyes fixated and that’s when he flips the paper around. CONS in big red capital lettering.
“this is private! you weren’t meant to see this, you shouldn’t be snooping in my room!” you squeak but bakugou’s already half down the page, pupils running across every line like he’s in a race.
“one. WILL choose his job over me—,”
“well obviously, your job is to save the world!”
“two. odd relationship with his mother? but apparently it’s better than before.”
“it’s so much better now!”
bakugou’s eyebrows drop now, voice getting lower as he continues, “three. argumentative. argues with EVERYONE. his agency workers, the media and his friends.”
“i understand why you argue with them all now! it makes sense!”
“three. his job is terrifying.”
bakugou looks over to you, solemn narrowed eyes and you don’t have a positive word to say about that.
“it is, sometimes i don’t know if you’ll come home.”
“four. he doesn’t do much else besides work. all his friends are from work.” bakugou pinches his nose bridge, “really? you think that?”
“now i don’t! and i know they’re childhood friends and… and we do things together all the time. i know you love to read, game, you’ve got your lego. i didn’t know all of that then.”
“five. don’t know if my friends and family will understand.” bakugou steps away from you, “the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
you huff on the spot, “this was from when i met you! all they’ve seen of you is shouting and yelling on the television. they didn’t know how lovable you are. how well you treat me.”
bakugou looks at you, then back at the paper. scratches his head. “six. inexperienced with sex but it’s really cute. has never had a girlfriend?”
“but number one pro is that you know how to use it. obviously we’re experienced now, we know everything about each other,” you flick your finger between you and your boyfriend.
“and the girlfriend comment? i can’t help the fact you’re my first.”
“no, i mean yes i know that. it was just a question as to why. it doesn’t mean anything to me now.”
“but it was a factor in whether you wanted to be my girlfriend,” he states.
“well, yeah,” you drawl, “i thought maybe there was a reason as to why. that’s all.”
bakugou raises his eyebrows, looks back at the sheet, “seven. doesn’t always have time for me. travels a lot for work.”
“that hasn’t changed.” bakugou grunts. it’s something he knows you struggle with while dating him. it’s even been a conversation you’ve had a few times throughout your relationship. quality time. you want to spend more time with him but he simply can’t.
you sigh, grabbing his chin between your fingers so he looks directly at you. his eyes are half lidded, cheeks red and exhausted from the negativity and heat. “we’ve been through this. i’m still gonna stick by you, everything i love about you means more than all the things i find difficult.”
he takes your palm away from your face and squeezes it. but you can tell he’s feeling off. “the last one. eight, he’s surrounded by beautiful women all the time.”
“you’re with celebrities, pro heroes, socialites a lot,” you shrug, “that was jealousy on my part, nothing to do with you.”
“i don’t give a fuck about any of that.”
you nod sharply, “i know! i wrote this a while ago, two years even? a lot has changed.”
bakugou sighs from the pit of his stomach, then flings his head back in a huff. “fuck, baby.” he groans.
then he looks down at you, looking up at him.
“just wanna put it out there, that was private, you weren’t meant to see that, my opinions have now changed and i’m sure you had a mental pro con list for me. i just wrote mine down.”
bakugou folds the paper, “yeah, yeah, i get it. you hate my job that much, huh? it covered half of the fuckin’ cons.
“i also said i liked you were successful and ambitious.” you sit on the back of the sofa, crossing your arms.
bakugou mirrors you standing, crossing his arms too. “but nothing about my job has changed since we’ve got together.”
you groan, leaning your head on your shoulder, “katsuki, i think you’re making problems out of nothing here.”
“you made a list of the problems with datin’ me.” he frowns, holding the folded paper between two fingers.
“and a list of the reasons why i wanted to date you. obviously the good reasons won if i’m with you now.” you glare at him with a sharp tone.
he begins to pace around the room, paper still in hand. a terrible sign. you watch as sweat trickles down his skin, body flush with heat.
“but, babe. the problems you’ve had with me from before we were dating are still problems now. i still don’t have time for you, you still are terrified every time i’m minutes late from a mission, you don’t think i’d choose you over my job and you don’t think i do anything but work.”
you moan aloud, “and i still want you despite that all. i get the world needs you, heck, i need you if i come across a villain. i don’t hate you for being a hero.”
he stops behind you, on the other side of the sofa, “i don’t want you to resent me when you realise you could have been with someone who does have more time for you, isn’t obsessed with their job, can put you first and doesn’t scare you.”
you hop off the sofa. leaning your forehead on his collarbone. “katsuki. i wouldn’t be here if i didn't want to be. i love you. i choose you everyday. i don’t want to argue with you.”
bakugou doesn’t touch you. there’s a shake to his voice, “i’m sorry i’m not better. i’m gonna try to be. just wait for me, fuck, maybe when i’m slower and the younger lot take over, they’ll need me less. it’s just now—,”
“it’s okay. you have time for me right now but you wanna argue with me," you pout up at him.
“you did put that i’m argumentative,” he looks away from you as your hands link around his neck.
“look at me.”
shiny lava red pupils find you. you ground him, takes him out of the what ifs and the failures of his past and places him in the present with you.
“i have dated bakugou katsuki for two years and i love him so much. i love how kind and generous he is, always putting his loved ones first. how he dedicates his life and body to saving the world. how even if he’s tired from a long week of working, he still comes over to cook me a three course meal because he wants to see me eat his food. who was so open and willing to change for me. to change his routines and learn my body. who is argumentative because he wants to make things right. who wanted so hard for my family and friends to love him and manages to see his mother once a week just to check up on her.”
you search in both his eyes and he’s listening, he always is.
“i can write an updated list for you, if you want.”
he shakes his head, stuffs his forehead into your neck and slowly pushes you down into the sofa. you laugh, his hands plastered into your waist as his body crushes you in the plush cushions ever so slightly.
“‘m sorry. i shouldn’t have read it. even though i enjoyed the pros.” he muffles, lips tickling your skin.
you tap his shoulder. “you shouldn’t have but it’s okay. i still need you to get my fan. it’s hot.”
“promise you’ll tell me if you want somethin’ to change between us. i’m not wakin’ up one day to you leavin’ me for a reason right under my nose.” he urges and you can see him pleading. the desperation for you to agree.
“promise. now you promise me.”
“course i promise. i couldn’t even fill out ten reasons as to why i hate you.”
“i didn't say i hate you. and sure you can. you hate my cold feet. you hate how i moan about my job. you hate how i hate your job. you hate how i always want a massage. you hate how i wait until the last minute when you’re tucked up in bed for you to get me a glass of water. you hate how i’m indecisive for what i want for my birthdays and—,”
bakugou sits up, “i don't hate any of that shit. love listenin’ to you and half that shit is cute as hell.”
you pout, “you hate when i wear low cut tops out—,”
he frowns, “that’s foreplay, baby. you let me suck your tits after to make me happy. couldn’t give a shit what you wear.”
“how about how protective my friends are? and the fact i tell them everything?”
bakugou shrugs, “you deserve friends that love you that much and that you can tell everythin’.”
“i get snappy when i’m running late or too much is going on or i’m hot.”
with that bakugou gets up. your fan. though not without hovering over you to give you a peck. then another. you press your soft lips against his though you don’t open up because then you will get even hotter and snappy.
he pulls off you and rises from the sofa, “that makes sense, baby. you’re stressed and uncomfortable.”
you roll your eyes, “stop being so understanding!”
he walks towards your bedroom, but not without turning around to look at you. his fingers grip the door frame, “i love you.”
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husband!satoru gets a little too possessive of you on your beach vacation. . .
the beach had been your idea.
you wanted a relaxing day together— sunshine, fresh air, finally swimming in the cold ocean water. somehow, though, the moment you’d stepped out of the changing room wearing your bikini, the entire plan had fallen apart.
or rather, satoru had.
you barely make it to your spot on the sand you’ve been eyeing before he plants himself directly in front of your beach chair.
at first, you think nothing of it. he’s always clingy, always finding excuses to stay close. but after several minutes pass and he still hasn’t moved, you start narrowing your eyes.
“what are you doing?” you ask.
“hm?”
“why are you standing there?”
he shrugs, taking another sip of his drink. “just hanging out.”
“well, hang out without blocking my view!”
“don’t wanna.”
you look at him expectantly, thinking he’ll finally move, but he just smiles innocently behind his sunglasses.
seems that he knows exactly what he’s doing.
every time you try adjusting your chair, he somehow adjusts his positioning too. every time you glance toward the water, his massive frame ends up between you and the rest of the beach.
it turns ridiculous enough that you finally sit up and cross your arms.
“okay. what’s wrong with you?”
“nothing’s wrong.”
“satoru.”
he lets out a dramatic sigh before lowering himself onto the edge of your beach chair. his arm immediately wraps around your waist, pulling you closer against his side.
“you look too good.”
you raise an eyebrow. “what..?”
“you heard me.”
his jaw tightens slightly as his gaze drifts away, and toward the crowded shoreline. there are people everywhere, couples, groups of friends. just doing completely normal beach activity.
satoru, however, looks threatened by all of it.
“i was excited to bring you here,” he admits. “thought it’d be nice.”
“and?”
“and then you walked out wearing that.”
you let out a laugh. “it’s just a bikini..?
“i know.”
“that’s what most women wear at beach, no?”
“mhm,” he pouts, and his expression remains the same.
normally, satoru loves showing you off. he’ll throw an arm around your shoulder in public, kiss your cheek randomly, introduce you as his wife every chance he gets. he’s never been subtle about how proud he is to have you.
apparently, though, this situation has created some kind of internal conflict.
because on one hand, he clearly wants everyone to know just how pretty his wife is. on the other hand, he seems seconds away from carrying you back inside the hotel and locking every door.
“you’re jealous of.. strangers?”
“’m not jealous.”
his arm tightens around your waist as another group of people walks by. none of them are paying attention to either of you, but satoru tracks them anyway before immediately shifting closer.
you can practically feel the possessiveness radiating off him.
“you know,” you say, smiling, “if you’re that bothered, maybe you stop staring.”
he looks at you like you’ve said something absurd.
“how am i supposed to stop staring?”
he reaches up, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
“seriously…” his voice softens. “i can’t.”
the warmth of the sun, the sound of the waves, the distant chatter around you— it all fades into the background beneath the way he’s looking at you.
like you’re still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
then his gaze flickers past you again, and his eyes narrow. “that guy looked over here.”
“toru!” you groan immediately. “you don’t even know if he was looking at me.”
before you can argue further, he stands up, grabs the beach umbrella beside your chair, and drags it several feet across the sand.
directly in front of you, and blocking your view of half the beach.
your mouth falls open. “okay. enough!”
“what?” he says innocently.
“move it.”
“nuh-uh.”
he squeezes back onto your chair, completely satisfied with himself as he throws an arm around your shoulders.
“now nobody can look.”
“seriously..?”
“as serious as can be,” he says, pulling you closer, then moving you onto his lap, “i feel way better.”
you bury your face in his shoulder to hide your giggles, and he takes the opportunity to press his lips against the top of your head.
after all, he still got exactly what he wants.
a beautiful beach, a sunny day..
and his wife all to himself.
wrote this after getting home from my beach trip >:) ugh i miss it already what is this unbearable heat rn..
In his memory, Choso is roughly thirteen years old and being forced to play 'house' with his little brother, as is a rite of passage for many. Yuji sits cross-legged from him on the carpet, little pink eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he completes the most important task he's faced in his five years on earth- delegating roles to his toys.
“Dad.” Yuji points to a small stuffed tiger, setting it aside from the bunches of animals.
“Uncle.” He says to a spiky green dinosaur, “because he has patterns like Uncle Kuna.” Choso doesn’t bother explaining to his five year old brother that they’re scales, not tattoos, because Yuji would just ignore him anyway.
Yuji goes on and on, casting his toys as grandparents, sisters, cousins and aunties; Choso feels rather rejected, sitting there patiently like a young upstart waiting for the casting list at their first theatre.
“Brother,” he says to a patchwork bear. Choso stares in affront, then sighs, expecting to finally be the second, older brother. But instead:
“Cho, you can be the house’s dog, okay?”
Choso feels genuinely offended. “But-“
Yuji ignores him, already grabbing his tiger in two chubby hands and speaking to it. Choso groans and assumes the position, hands and knees digging into the floor as he gives into his teenage pride and does whatever his little brother wants to be happy.
“Yayyy, good puppy!” Yuji cheers, rosy cheeks stretching out as he giggles into his tiger plush, his two recently lost teeth gapping his cute smile. Choso grimaces.
Now, Choso is over a decade older, and listening to those same words again- but they aren’t coming from his brother. They’re coming from his girlfriend, and he doesn’t think he’s ever felt more pathetically turned on.
“Goooood puppy, Choso.” You purr, digging your nails into his scalp as his mouth swallows up your dripping cunt whole like its all he's good for. “So good f’me.”
Choso chokes on his own gasping breath, tongue twisting shallowly inside you and searching for the pretty noises he knows you can make for him. Your hand pats his head condescendingly when he latches onto your clit and suckles, his fingers dug into your hips to smother himself with the taste of you like he never wants to let go of the supple flesh he finds there.
The humiliation burns across his face, hot and glaringly obvious; redness rests high on his cheekbones, creeping across to his bare back, snaking onto his neck. There’s no real need for him to be shirtless other than the fact you like to ogle him when he eats you out; you like lying there as he uses his mouth to make you cum while you stare hazily at the dreamy sight of his back and shoulders rolling.
You like to grin lazily down at your boyfriend and see the way his biceps flex to pin your rocking hips to his greedy tongue, the way his back muscles ripple when he humps into the mattress. You wouldn’t mind if he was fully naked, but Choso’s the one who insists on keeping his underwear on.
Every time, he’ll mumble something about the cold or a half-baked excuse about how he’s embarrassed about you seeing his ass when he gets up, but really?
He just likes the way you humiliate him.
Choso is deeply, pathetically into the way you laugh in his blushing face after he inevitably cums in his boxers. Like, reallyyy into it, to the point that the thought consumes him when he's looking online for a few new pairs of underwear- where would a damp patch be more obvious? The black or the grey?
The grey, obviously. Which is why he's wearing them right now.
He’ll crawl up on shaky arms to allow you to tease the waistband and the trail of hair above it, whimpering when you palm the damp patch over his cock and grin. “Awwwhh, Cho…” you say meanly, thumbing the tip through the fabric as it scratches the sensitive head, “you came that easily? Gosh, you’re so pathetic.”
And he’ll nod vehemently, face flaming as you bully him, strong arms resting either side of your much smaller frame as he lets you keep talking. Much like you are now.
“Pathetic.” You breathe out, voice tinged with something disgustingly close to sappy lovesickness as you brush brunette locks from his sweaty forehead. “All for me, hm?”
He moans in agreement, eyes fluttering closed when you grip his head to stuff him between your soft thighs harder. “I didn’t hear you, Cho.” You sulk. “I thought good puppies used their words.”
"It's all for you." He groans, kitten-licking your clit. "Nobody else could ever make me like this, baby. Just need you-" He dives back in, eager as ever, but your nails dig hard into his head to rip him away. "Ah-ah," you say sweetly, in love with the way his eyes dilate as he gazes at your soaked cunt, "and what are you, puppy?"
His voice cracks when he pulls away from your weeping pussy, still keeping his thumb rotating on your buzzing clit to work you up to an eventual orgasm. “I…” he whispers, eyes brimming with tears. “I’m pathetic.”
You’d feel awful if he didn’t ask you to be like this with him.
“I’m so pathetic.” He sobs out, tongue licking a flat stripe across your cunt. “So, so pathetic, can’t h-help myself-“
His voice is stuttering now, tears flowing freely down his cheeks as you gently coax him into stuffing you with his fingers again. When he does, your head tips back against the pillows and you gasp softly. The noise makes Choso’s cock twitch in his underwear.
He’s rutting pathetically into the mattress, like… well, like a dog.
Briefly, Choso imagines how it would feel to take it further and actually act like a dog; he crawls to you enough already, begs to eat your pussy on his knees, so surely buying a pretty little collar (with your name engraved for proof of ownership, of course!) isn’t too far?
And then, he thinks dreamily, wouldn’t you need a lead to go with the collar? You could drag him around on it, tugging when he whimpers about his hands hurting and slapping him to stop his whining. Maybe you’d scold him when he misbehaved and praise him when he gazes up at you with that big, brown, puppy-eyed stare you adore so much on him.
Choso’s so lost in the fantasy he doesn’t notice the way you’ve started trembling around him as he licks you through your second? third? orgasm and into the point of overstimulation.
“Ch-Choso-“ you cry, tugging at his soft locks, “s’too much, oh-“
He keens into your cunt as he keeps licking, more for himself than you as he grinds his thickening cock down into the mattress and ruins his underwear. When he finishes cumming after what feels like forever, he rests his fucked-out face on your inner thigh and lets his cheek smush against the skin.
“Good boy.” You slur, hand resting shakily on his face. Choso whimpers and closes his eyes, but quickly draws himself up to lie beside you and snuggle his face firmly into your neck. "Hm?" You giggle, eyes drifting down to the tent in his underwear. "Did you cum in your boxers again, Cho?" You tut, and the sound makes the soaked patch resting atop the outline of his twitching cock only grow more.
"Sorry..." he whimpers, clearly not sorry at all when you feel something moving against your naked hip. He's humping you, messy and unfocused as his eyes flutter shut and he clutches your body for support.
“Cho…”
“Hnngh- just- please, I’ll be good for you, just let me…” his thoughts melt when you start kissing him, mouth mixing spit with his tongue as his breath hitches.
“Such a good puppy, Cho.” You purr, pressing soft kisses to his face to help him through it as he grinds against your skin. “Always so good for me.”
And then, his undoing. “I love you, Cho.” You breathe into his mouth, “so much.”
“E-even if I’m…” he pants embarrassedly, “if I’m pathetic?”
You smile and brush hair from his teary eyes. “Especially then.”
ೃ࿔*:･
masterlist
a/n: for @f33bs, my favourite Choso puppyplay truther ever
you were going to be late for work. not because you woke up late. not because you took too long in the shower and not because you were doom scrolling in bed and lost track of time.
you were going to be late because your husband, satoru, just couldn't seem to let you go. you found it cute at first, him begging you not to go and whining when you say no, but the act was getting boring especially because you were standing at the door, trapped in his arms for the last twenty minutes.
"for the last time, 'toru. i have to go", he only shook his head and pulled you impossibly closer against him.
"you don't have to work...i make enough for the both of us...you can stay home with me...you should stay home with me", satoru whispered into your ear, nuzzling his face against your neck, inhaling your scent.
"i actually like my job. i know you can pay for everything, but i also want to treat myself sometimes". satoru looked at you like you'd grown two heads. he looked you up and down, his frown deepened and shook his head, no.
"absolutely not. what kind of husband would i be if i just let you spend your hard earned money. only a loser would do that, and I'm no loser.", he pulled you closer to him again, this time peppering kisses all over your face.
"as cute as this is, satoru, i have a life to live"
"yeah, with me". this time he captured your lips in a long, passionate kiss, your lipstick now on him before pulling away and staring at you with the most love sick eyes. "i could just lock you up and keep you all to myself. i bet your boss is an ugly guy"
"my boss is a woman", he pressed his lips together in a straight line and sucked his teeth.
"whoever keeps you away from me is ugly by default. how much should i pay you to stay with me? i'll give you double your current salary-"
"don't be ridiculous, satoru"
"it's 'toru to you", you checked your wrist watch for the nth time and rolled your eyes.
"i'm gonna get stuck in traffic if you keep me here for longer", satoru sighed dramatically and pulled you in for one last hug before capturing your lips again in another kiss. but this one felt different. he kissed you like he would never see you again before pulling back and looking at you with the saddest puppy dog eyes.
"you can go now, my love". he escorted you to your car, his hand on your lower back and once you were settled in your seat, the door closed, you rolled down the windows and you kissed his cheek. "get there safe. call me when you do"
you said your goodbyes and were soon. some time later you realized that you had forgotten your purse. you reached for your phone with the intention of messaging satoru to tell him you were coming back. and to your surprise, you found that he sent a selfie of him posing with your purse, all pearly whites out and your lipstick still smeared on his lips. and below it a text.
my handsome clingy husband: i wont let you go this time if you come back
clingy!gojo who absolutely refuses to leave you alone for more than five minutes. when you wake up he's already wrapped around you. clingy!gojo who follows you from room to room, claiming he "just happened to be going there too" even though he very obviously wasn't. clingy!gojo who sends you voice messages while you're literally at work because he misses hearing your voice. clingy!gojo who acts like he's joking when he says "don’t leave me," but the second you actually start walking away he's grabbing your sleeve. clingy!gojo who insists on holding your hand everywhere—the grocery store, the movie theater, crossing an empty parking lot. clingy!gojo who acts completely shameless about it too. everyone else thinks he's this untouchable legend, but you know him as the boy who lays across your lap and whines when you won't stop reading your book and pay attention to him. clingy!gojo :p
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i think megumi gets really horrible nightmares often because of his trauma and. combined with his disgusting self-hatred and refusal to let himself indulge in anything he will sit there shaking and trying to breathe himself through an anxiety attack trying not to sob too loud because you are fast asleep next to him
and then if you wake up he tries to apologize but he can’t talk and you just help him through it and make him feel so safe :( and you tell him over and over that he’s allowed to wake you up and he’s allowed to feel and he’s allowed to let you comfort him and now he can’t stop crying
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