fanfiction and shitposting

hi. i know i've been MIA and i wish i came back on a better note but shit really hit the fan. I am in an urgent need for 500$. i am so upset that i am shaking because i have to bear a loss for a mistake i did not make but i have to because i signed an agreement at the start of this job. i'll link my ko-fi and paypal. i hate to greet you like this asking for money and i know it sounds pathetic but i am hanging on by thread and i don't know what i will do or it will end up taking my life and sanity with it. that being said, you are not forced to donate or help but if you can please do and help me. reblogs are much more appreciated. thank you so much to everyone in this community.

kofi

paypal

i'll tell you the story below

So you have to make the first move.

the two of you manage to meet in the commission HQ. he'a cuter than you remembered, with these pretty freckles and blush that goes across his nose when he laughs. it makes it easy for you to pretend.

"Are you heading out?"

Izuku is halfway through pulling on his coat, giving you this gentle smile. its a stupid question, but he doesnt treat it that way; he chats with you as you grab your own coat.

the elevator ride is awkwardly quiet. The two of you face the door, two feet apart. you can feel your opportunity slipping through your fingers-- goodbye fame, goodbye money, goodbye manager-

Izuku cleara his throat, rubbing his hand around the back of his neck. "If it's not too forward, I was wondering if I could have your number-?"

Before he can finish the last word, you've closed the gap between you two. You catch your lips against his open mouth and the sound of his voice fizzles out. His lips are soft, warm and still-- you pull away before he can react.

"Yeah," you say. "You can have my number."

The elevator door opens and you go to leave, only to be caught by the wrist. he pushes the button for the top floor and lets the door close before he speaks again.

"This is an H.R violation. "

Inspired by: this! by the amazing @radish-breath

“finally some privacy.” he huffs.

“did you know it was me in the challenge?” you flirt, crawling onto his lap with your legs along the sofa. he holds you tight, staring at you like you’re brighter than the spanish sun.

you just participated in a kissing challenge where the boys all lined up and the girls had to kiss every one and be rated. you got second highest, only because you chose not to makeout with bakugou’s best friend and your best friend’s man. they both gave you a 2 each for that.

“course, i did. i know how your lips feel. you also went for my bottom lip with tongue. you love that shit,” he stares at them when he says that, as if he’s remembering exactly how you feel, “also your hands went straight into my hair and you pressed your body into me. i know what you feel like, woman.”

you giggle, bowing your head slightly.

then you switch personalities completely, hand flat on his chest and serious, “was i actually your favourite kiss or were you just saying that? be honest.”

“you were everyone’s favourite—,”

“but was i your favourite, katsuki?”

he wants to eat you, keep you locked to his side forever. he grins like a man in love. bakugou can already imagine his friends laughing at him at home.

“don’t ask me stupid questions,” he smirks, pouting his lips out for a kiss to which you peck him back immediately. he knows this is a cute little farce you do with him. a way for him to give you even more compliments than he does already. you’re one of the most confident women he’s ever met, he knows you know you’re the best kisser in the building. you just wanna hear it from him. “you’re my fuckin’ favourite. best kiss, best girl.”

he grabs your chin, “y’hear me?”

you nod excitedly, “i actually thought—,”

“if you say someone else was a better kisser than me i’m gonna—,”

“i’m only joking! you were my favourite too. obviously.”

it honestly looks like you’re about to fuck with how intense the kiss gets. bakugou’s a second into flipping you under him to start grinding into you and from the angle all your friends are standing at, they can see your tongue entering his mouth. it looks like you’re about to eat each other.

“wow, that’s hot.”

“do they realise we can see them?”

“i don’t think they care.”

his hand is holding your head in place, the cameras are zooming in like they’re about to film a porno instead of evening reality tv. you’ve even locked a leg around his waist and both your arms at his neck.

if they put this clip in the edit, they’re going to need subtitles for the viewers because of how low you’re talking.

“i want you so bad,” it sounds like you’re about to cry.

he growls into your mouth, your lips brushing against his. “imagine my fingers inside of you, stretchin’ out your lil pussy for my cock.”

“oh my god,” you blurt, you can feel your heartbeat throughout your body as if you’re one sensitive nerve. of fucking course this man can dirty talk. you haven’t been on the edge like this in your life. “no, get off me. i need to go into the pool or something. a cold shower.”

one light press of your palm in the centre of his chest and he falls onto his back. he flings his forearm over his eyes and grunts, “fuck. sorry, i got carried away.”

“i started it,” you breathe, both of you laying beside each other with heaving chests.

“i continued it.”

“i said i wanted to fuck you—,”