pairings: katsuki bakugo x reader, izuku midoriya x reader, eijiro kirishima x reader
content: mdni one-shot! suggestive. pro-hero!bakugou, pro-hero!midoriya, , pro-hero!kirishima, post-timeskip, slight angst, reader is drunk and thirsty, groping, cunnilingus
note: happy birthday to me :b. i'v never written smut so give me grace
Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight was a busy hero. Even on days like your birthday, he was still needed by the citizens of Japan.
That morning, you sat on the couch watching some random show, a mug of coffee warming your hands. Katsuki walked behind you, his large hand settling on top of your head before he pressed a quick, surprisingly gentle kiss to your forehead.
“I’m out. Don’t do anything crazy while I’m gone,” he said, already heading toward the front door.
“How late do you think you’ll be?” your voice came softly from the couch.
His hand was already on the handle, twisting it open. “Shouldn’t be too late. Wait for me.”
You nodded, sinking back into the plush cushions as the door clicked shut behind him.
Your day went on like usual. You got ready, went to work, collected a few gifts and half-hearted “happy birthdays” from coworkers. You went out for a couple drinks after, but didn’t stay long. It just didn’t feel right celebrating without him.
By the time you got home, it was already pushing 8 o’clock.
You kicked your heels off the second you stepped through the door, letting them scatter somewhere to the side. You were exhausted—ready to collapse into bed—but Katsuki had told you to wait, and as much as you complained about him, you didn’t want to mess up whatever he had planned.
You changed into something more comfortable, grabbed the biggest blanket you could find, and wrapped yourself up tightly before flopping onto the couch. You turned on a movie—then another, then another—anything to keep yourself awake.
You had messaged him a few times, but there was no reply.
Your eyelids grew heavier with each passing minute, and eventually, without even realizing it, you drifted off.
It was well past midnight when the front door finally opened.
Katsuki stepped inside, boots heavy against the floor. The apartment was dark, the only light coming from the TV still playing whatever had been left on.
His eyes landed on you immediately—curled up on the couch, swallowed by a blanket.
“Fuck…” he muttered under his breath.
The frustration wasn’t at you. It never was. It was at himself.
If he hadn’t gotten stuck on that last job… if things hadn’t dragged out… he would’ve made it in time. Could’ve grabbed your gift. Could’ve been here before the day ended.
Instead, he was late. Again.
He walked over, careful despite the weight of his steps, and crouched beside you for a second before scooping you up into his arms like it was nothing.
You stirred slightly as he carried you to the bedroom, your face instinctively pressing into his chest.
“Damn, you’re out cold…” he mumbled.
He tried to lay you down gently, but your arms wrapped around his neck before he could pull away.
“Katsuki…” you mumbled, still half-asleep.
His expression softened instantly.
“I’m sorry, baby. Go back to sleep,” he said quietly, his voice rough from the long day but softer than he’d ever admit out loud.
“Mm… where’s my gift?” you slurred, eyes barely fluttering open.
He clicked his tongue, looking away for a second. “Couldn’t get it. Place closed before I got off. Just go to sleep.”
He pressed a kiss to your forehead, expecting that to be enough.
“Y’know I’m not materialistic…” you mumbled, a sleepy little laugh escaping as you tugged him closer.
“Oi! Don’t start. I’m gross right now,” he protested, trying to pull back until he noticed how your shirt had shifted, thin fabric doing absolutely nothing to hide the warmth underneath.
“…You doing this shit on purpose?” he narrowed his eyes.
You just smiled lazily, clearly too out of it to even answer, your hands still trying to drag him down with you while you pressed soft, clumsy kisses along his jaw.
He let out a slow breath, something shifting behind his eyes before a smirk tugged at his lips.
His hands planted on either side of you, caging you in as he leaned down.
“Guess this’ll be your gift,” he muttered, voice low.
He pulled off his gloves and threw them to the side. Then his calloused hands ran up the smooth skin of your stomach, fingers grazing against your ribs before reaching your breasts.
You hummed softly, beginning to relax into the mattress at the feeling of his warm touch against you.
"You like that?" his voice was so sultry, like music to your ears.
"Mhmm..." you only hummed, trying to enjoy simply the touch of his fingers as they softly cupped your tits. But the feeling of his thumbs swiping over your nipples made your breath hitch.
With a light press of your fingers to the nape of his neck, you urged him to lean down. The second his face got close enough to yours, you lunged forward, catching him in a desperate kiss.
Your lips parted in sync, tongues sliding together with practiced ease. But you had another need, one that was now pressing into your thigh.
He didn't seem to mind, though, as he grinded against you, the feeling of you and the light friction causing him to let out a deep guttural groan.
The kiss was sloppy, all tongue and teeth, something about it being so late, so sudden.
"Katsuki, need you s'bad." you groaned against his lips, hips rolling up to meet him.
He broke the kiss, leaning up just enough to look down at you, crimson eyes watching you with that intensity that always made your stomach flip.
"I know you do, birthday girl," he purred, one of his hands coming to trace along the skin of your hip under your pajamas.
He slowly slid down the fabric of your shorts, along with your panties, until they were completely off.
He paused for a moment to admire the view. He always did this, always took a second to look at you as if he were memorizing every dip, every curve.
"So fuckin' perfect," he muttered, almost to himself, before leaning down.
But instead of kissing you again, he went lower.
His tongue traced a hot, wet path down your stomach, making you squirm. He bit down gently on the soft flesh of your thigh, earning a little squeak from you. Then he settled between your legs, throwing your legs over his broad shoulders.
His tongue was hot and insistent against your clit, circling and flicking in a way that had your back arching off the bed. Your fingers tangled in the sheets, gripping tightly as you tried to ground yourself.
He slid two fingers inside, curling them and rubbing against that sensitive spot inside you that made your vision blur.
"Ah—! Katsuki, please!" you cried out, hips grinding down against his face. He growled in response, the vibrations sending another jolt of pleasure through you.
He didn't let up, his mouth and fingers working in tandem to push you closer and closer to the edge.
"Taste so good," he growled into you, sending vibrations through your clit. "All mine."
It was all too much. The pressure in your lower belly tightened, a coil of heat ready to snap.
"cum for me, baby, wanna taste you," he mumbled against your clit
You snapped, back arching and a silent scream tearing from your throat as your orgasm washed over you. Your thighs trembled, clamping around his head as he continued to work you through your high, lapping up your release.
He didn't stop until you were a whimpering mess beneath him, gently pushing at his head from oversensitivity.
He finally pulled away, a smug smirk on his face. His chin was glistening with your arousal, and he wiped it with the back of his hand before crawling back up your body.
He captured your lips in a deep, possessive kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.
"Told you I'd give you a good birthday present," he grumbled against your lips, grinding his hard clothed cock against your sensitive core.
You could feel the heat of him, the thick, heavy length pressing against you. You were so empty, clenching around nothing, desperate for him to fill you up.
"Please, Katsuki," you begged, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him closer.
"I'm not even close to being done with you yet,"
You walked out of your bedroom with one of his T-shirts hanging loosely off your frame, the fabric nearly swallowing you whole. You rubbed at your eyes, still half-asleep, looking more like someone who had just been dragged out of a nap than someone starting their day.
Izuku’s voice was bright—way too bright for this early—but that was just how he was. Always warm, always a little excited, especially when it came to you.
He stood at the stove, carefully flipping eggs in a pan, completely focused on not messing them up. But your attention wasn’t on the food.
His chest was bare, freckles scattered across his skin, and his sweatpants sat low on his hips like he hadn’t even thought about fixing them after getting dressed.
“Breakfast is almost ready,” he said, glancing over his shoulder with a soft smile, completely unaware of the way you were looking at him.
You stepped closer, slow and quiet, hands tucked behind your back.
“Do you remember what day it is?” you teased, rocking slightly on your feet.
He turned fully this time, eyes lighting up instantly.
“Of course I do! It’s your birthday!” he said, like there was no world where he’d forget. “I’ve actually have this whole day planned—”
He cut himself off, cheeks flushing a little as he realized he was rambling again.
“I mean—um—it would be criminal if I forgot,” he corrected, scratching the back of his neck with a shy laugh.
You hummed, stepping even closer until you were right behind him “Mm… good,” you murmured, eyes flicking up and down his toned back.
He swallowed, posture going just a little stiff.
“Y-yeah… I, uh—wanted to make you breakfast first, and then I thought maybe we could—”
Your hands wrapped around his torso, fingers slowly tracing over the firm lines of his abs before slipping down and hooking into the waistband of his sweats.
“You should eat first, that’s important—” he started, trying—really trying—to stay on track.
But the second your fingers brushed back up his chest, slow and absentminded like you weren’t even thinking about it, his words faltered.
You stepped closer, chest nearly brushing his, your grip tightening just enough to keep him from stepping away.
He didn’t actually want to move.
Izuku swallowed hard, his hands hovering awkwardly on the counter like he didn’t trust himself to touch you yet. His whole plan for the day—breakfast, gifts, everything he’d carefully thought out—was slipping through his fingers way too fast.
“You’re not being fair…” he muttered, voice quieter now, softer.
He turned suddenly, finally meeting your hungry gaze head-on. Your fingers were still tracing along his chest but he caught your hands this time—pulling them away and lacing your fingers with his to stop you.
“…You’re gonna ruin the whole schedule,” he mumbled, though there was no real protest left in his voice.
The kiss was soft at first like he was still holding onto that last bit of restraint. But it didn’t last long. The second you leaned into him, pressing closer, something in him gave way.
The second you tilted your head, giving him better access, the control in him snapped.
Izuku lifted you effortlessly, setting you on the counter, the cool surface making you gasp into his mouth. The eggs were forgotten, the plan forgotten—
You hooked your legs around his waist, pulling him flush against you.
His hands moved from your waist to your thighs, gripping firmly as he leaned in again, kissing you harder, deeper. The small sounds you made only egged him on, his breathing heavier now, more uneven.
He pulled back just enough to press his forehead against yours, green eyes half-lidded and glassy.
“You’re impossible…” he breathed out, thumbs stroking along your skin like it might ground him.
You only giggled in response, looking down at the tightened spot in his pants and urging for the next step. “I need you, Zuku.”
You pulled him back into another kiss. The counter was hard beneath you, but you barely noticed. Not when he was pressing against you like this, all warmth and tension and barely contained want.
His hands slid higher, fingers curling into the hem of your (his) shirt, bunching the fabric up until it was discarded somewhere in the room. The sudden rush of cool air against your skin made you shiver, but it was the way he looked at you that really made your breath catch.
“You always get what you want, don’t you?” he murmured, mostly to himself, but the words sent a thrill through you anyway.
Then he leaned down, teeth grazing your neck, and any thought of answering dissolved into a needy hum.
One of his hands slid between your legs, slow and deliberate, and your breath hitched.
His fingers traced along the damp fabric, light enough to make you squirm, before finally pressing down.
"This wet first thing in the morning?" he questioned before moving to the waistband of his pants to pull them down.
He finally yanked his pants off, revealing the fact that he wasn't wearing boxers this morning. His cock springing free from its restraint. The tip was swollen and already leaking. He moved back towards you, fisting himself at the base before rubbing the tip through your slick folds.
“Please don’t tease me,” you whined out. The feeling of him sliding against you but not going in was maddening.
He chuckled at this, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “After all that teasing you did to me?” He then pulled your underwear to the side and pushed inside.
The stretch was divine. A soft gasp left your lips, back arching as he slid deeper, inch by agonizing inch, until he was fully seated inside you. Your walls fluttered around him, adjusting, and he groaned low in his throat, fingers digging into your hips.
“God—so tight…” he breathed out, like he couldn’t quite believe it even after all this time.
You just whimpered, legs tightening around his waist, urging him to move.
He started slow—deep, deliberate thrusts that had you seeing stars. Each drag of his cock against your walls sent sparks up your spine, and you couldn’t stop the needy little sounds spilling from your lips.
“‘faster—” you gasped out, hands clutching at his shoulders, nails digging in just enough to make him hiss.
"Would you be mad if my birthday gift to you was me filling you up? Wanna see you with my kids so bad—," he groaned with each thrust. The new information making your walls spasm. This was the fastest he’d ever lost control.
You bit down on his shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark, and he jerked, hips snapping forward involuntarily.
The rhythm shattered, replaced by something frantic, desperate. He drove into you, the kitchen filled with the sound of skin slapping, your breathless moans, and the rough, broken sounds he was making.
“Izuku—oh god, right there—” you cried out, head falling back as he hit that spot inside you that made your whole body light up.
He shifted, angling his hips just right, and then you were gone. Your orgasm hit you hard, waves of pleasure crashing over you as your walls clamped down around him, milking him for all he was worth.
He followed right after, burying himself deep inside you with a hoarse cry, spilling into you with a shudder.
You lazily lifted your head to breathily say, "That would be the best birthday gift ever, actually."
He was halfway out the door, already in a rush like usual, one shoe barely on and keys in hand, when you stopped him.
You shifted on the couch, blanket slipping slightly off your shoulder as he turned around, red eyes landing on you immediately.
“Yeah? What’s up?” he asked, already walking back a step, like he wouldn’t just leave if you needed something.
“I actually needed to tell you something,” you said, sitting up a little straighter. “A few of the girls invited me out to celebrate my birthday… so I might not be home when you get back.”
“Wait, seriously? That’s awesome!” Kirishima grinned, big and bright, like this was the best news he’d heard all morning.
“Have fun, okay? Don’t worry about me,” he said, smiling down at you. “I’ll still make dinner or something—so when you get back, you’ve got food waiting.”
“You’re the best! Have an amazing day at work!” you beamed.
Kirishima’s grin came right back just as bright. “You too! Have fun tonight!” he shot back, giving you one last look before heading out the door, it shutting behind him with a solid click.
You weren’t home when he got back.
In fact… you were way later than he expected.
Kirishima had already packed your dinner up neatly, sliding it into the fridge with a little note on top—something simple, but very him. He’d tried to keep himself busy after that, but eventually ended up on the couch, a bowl of popcorn in his lap, TV playing some show he wasn’t really paying attention to.
Every few minutes, his eyes flicked to the clock.
He wasn’t going to bed until you were home.
“C’mon… shoot me a text or somethin’,” he muttered under his breath. Right as he was about to check his phone again—
Teetering forward, barely catching yourself on the doorframe, balance completely gone.
The bowl of popcorn was abandoned immediately as he shot up from the couch, crossing the room in seconds.
“Hey—hey, I got you!” he said quickly, grabbing your arms before you could tip any further. His grip was firm but careful, steadying you like it was second nature.
One of his hands moved to your back, keeping you upright while the other adjusted its hold on your arm.
“You good? You hurt anywhere?” he asked, voice gentler now, eyes scanning your face just to make sure.
Then he smiled again—smaller this time, but just as warm.
“C’mon, birthday girl. Let’s get you inside before you fall over on me.”
“Kir-i-shi-ma!” you sang, words stretching out unevenly as you grabbed onto his biceps, using him to keep yourself upright.
“What a voice you got there,” he chuckled under his breath, clearly entertained by how giddy you were.
“I’ve been waiting to see you all day…” you mumbled into his neck, your words a little slurred as you leaned into him, pressing soft, uneven kisses along his jaw.
“What’ve you been waiting for?”
“For you…” you said, voice softer now, still tinged with that giddy edge. “For your big, strong arms around me…”
“Alright, alright, let’s get you to the couch. You’re gonna fall over if you keep this up.”
He carefully guided you the few steps over, slowly letting you sink into the cushions. But even then, you weren’t letting go.
“Nooo—don’t leave me,” you whined, fingers still tangled in his shirt. “It’s my birthday…”
“I’m not leaving,” he promised softly, brushing a stray piece of hair from your face. “Just making sure you’re comfortable.”
Once you were settled, he made a quick trip to the kitchen, returning with a tall glass of water and two painkillers. He placed them on the coffee table in front of you.
“Here. Drink all of that,” he said gently. “And take these now, before you wake up feeling it tomorrow.”
You blinked up at him, still half-dazed and smiling wide. “You’re so good to me…”
“Someone’s gotta be,” he teased, kneeling down in front of the couch to look you in the eye. “Hey—you remember what you asked me for your birthday?”
“…A kiss?” you guessed, face lighting up like you’d just solved the world’s greatest mystery.
He leaned forward and gently placed a kiss on your lips. "That's my girl."
"Oh.." you said, somewhat disappointed, "I don't think that's what I was imagining..."
“Wait… what?” he asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise. “Then what did you imagine?”
“Something… a little more,” you said, your words still slightly slurred, but the heat behind them was unmistakable. Your hand, which had been resting on his shoulder, began to trail down his chest, your fingers tracing the hard lines of muscle beneath his shirt.
“I was thinking of something that would really… celebrate.”
Kirishima’s breath hitched. Your touch, even through the fabric, sent a jolt straight through him. He watched, mesmerized, as your hand continued its downward journey, stopping right at the waistband of his pants.
“Oh,” he breathed. His red eyes, which had been soft and amused just moments ago, now held a dark, predatory glaze.
A slow, sharp grin spread across his face, all sharp teeth and confident swagger. “You want something… harder, then?”
You just bit your lip and nodded, your gaze locked with his.
He didn’t need any more encouragement.
With a movement that was both swift and deliberate, Kirishima shifted.
“You’re drunk… are you sure, baby?” he asked, voice softer now, a little more careful as he looked down at you.
You shook your head, a small, stubborn pout on your lips. “I’m hardly even drunk anymore,” you mumbled.
Then you tilted your head up at him, a lazy smile spreading across your face. “…unless you count being drunk on you.”
He surged forward, one knee coming to rest on the couch between your legs. He caged you in, one hand braced on the back of the couch above your head, the other still holding your hip.
“Drunk on me, huh?” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through your entire body. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “I can work with that.”
“Is this more like what you had in mind?” he growled, his hand sliding from your hip down the curve of your thigh, squeezing firmly.
You whimpered, arching into him, your hands coming up to tangle in the soft, spiky hair at the nape of his neck. “Yes…” you breathed.
“Good,” he grunted, satisfied with your answer. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his red eyes burning with an intensity that made your heart pound.
He peeled off his shirt that was restricting for the both of you. You ogled at the sight of his toned, sculpted chest and stomach, the way his muscles rippled with every move.
“Like what you see, birthday girl?” he asked, a cocky smirk playing on his lips.
You nodded, unable to form any words, your eyes wide and transfixed. You reached out, your fingers tracing the defined lines of his abs, feeling the hard muscle beneath your touch. He shuddered, a low groan rumbling in his chest.
“You keep touching me like that, and I’m not gonna be able to hold back,” he warned, his voice strained.
“Then don’t,” you whispered, your gaze meeting his. “I don’t want you to.”
With a guttural growl, Kirishima crushed his lips to yours. The kiss was nothing like the gentle one from before. His tongue delved into your mouth, dominating, tasting, leaving you breathless and wanting more.
His hands were everywhere, roaming your body, gripping your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you could feel him, hard and ready, pressing against your core.
He pulled down his pants revealing his hardened cock. He was big and you couldn’t help but stare. You wanted him. All of him.
He then ripped your dress right off of you.
He leaned down, his mouth latching onto your breast, his tongue swirling around your nipple, teasing and tasting. You cried out, your back arching off the couch, your hands fisting in his hair. He was relentless, his mouth and hands driving you to the brink of insanity.
“Eijiro…” you gasped, your voice a breathy moan.
He lifted his head, his red eyes locking with yours. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll forget your own name. You got that?”
You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest, anticipation coiling in your stomach.
He lined his dick up with your hole, the tip just barely breaching your entrance. He teased you, moving the head of his cock along your slick folds, making you whimper with need.
“Eijiro, please…” you begged, your hips bucking, trying to get him inside you.
“Patience, baby,” he chuckled, a dark, predatory sound. “Good things come to those who wait.”
But he was done waiting too.
With one swift, powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside you. A sharp, piercing cry tore from your throat as he stretched you, filled you completely. He was so big, so thick, it was almost too much.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice strained with the effort of holding still, of giving you a moment to adjust.
You could only nod, your nails digging into his shoulders, your body trembling with a mixture of pain and pleasure. The feeling of being so full, so completely possessed by him, was intoxicating.
He began to move, his strokes slow and deep at first, then faster, harder, driving into you with a rhythm that stole your breath.
“You feel so good,” he grunted, his hands gripping your hips, holding you in place as he pounded into you.
You yelp in pleasure, "You're so deep-"
He let out a low, guttural sound, a growl of pure, masculine pride that vibrated through your entire being. “Yeah? You like that, baby? You like feeling me deep inside you?”
All you could do was moan in response, your head thrown back, your eyes squeezed shut. The world narrowed down to the feel of him moving inside you, the sound of his ragged breathing, the grip of his hands on your skin.
He shifted his angle slightly, and the next thrust hit that spot deep inside you, the one that made you see stars. You cried out, your body convulsing, pleasure so intense it was almost painful.
“Right there?” he asked, a smirk in his voice. He knew damn well he’d found it.
He hit it again, and again, and again, driving into you with a ruthless precision that had you seeing white. Your body was on fire, every nerve ending alight with pleasure.
“I’m close,” you gasped, your hands scrabbling for purchase on the couch cushions.
“Come for me, birthday girl,” he commanded, his voice a low growl. “Come all over my cock.”
His words were your undoing.
His hand reached for your breast, cuping it within his large hand as he thrusted into you. You shattered, your orgasm crashing over you in a wave of euphoric bliss that left you breathless and trembling.
He followed you over the edge a moment later, burying himself deep inside you with a final, powerful thrust as he came. He collapsed on top of you, his body heavy and spent.
For a long moment, you just lay there, tangled together, your bodies slick with sweat, the only sound in the room your combined, ragged breathing. The intensity of what had just happened left you in a daze, a blissful, satisfied haze.
He finally rolled off you, pulling you into his arms and tucking you against his side. He pressed a soft, gentle kiss to your forehead, a stark contrast to the raw, primal passion he’d just shown you.
“Happy birthday,” he murmured, his voice soft and content.
You snuggled closer, a lazy, satisfied smile on your face. “Best birthday ever,” you mumbled into his chest.