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Katsuki Bakugo x Fem! Reader

TW/CW: 18+, smut, p in v, creampie, dumbification, bimbo! reader technically not really bc she smart, older! bf! Katsuki, established relationship, early relationship—still finding things out about each other, manhandling, fingering, petnames, condescension (?), longggg intro sorry

A/N: grad gift to myself i guess… dumbification make me go brrrrr. I must remind everyone that YES bakugo smart, but he did not go to university

With dinner finished, the rest of the evening fell into a familiar rhythm. The television played some late-night programme Katsuki had inevitably become invested in, though you couldn’t have said what it was about. Tonight was your study night, which meant your textbook captured your attention while you occupied his lap instead of the cushion beside him.

It was a common arrangement the two of you had settled into over the past couple of months without ever really discussing it. You studied. He watched television. Somewhere along the way, one of his hands always found your thighs.

Only tonight, his attention drifts from the screen. His eyes catch the pages spread open across your lap; paragraphs packed with diagrams, strange bold terminology, and long strips of letters that looked more like a cypher than writing.

He frowns at the pages; come to think of it, he had absolutely no idea what you were studying, not even a little. His thumb traces absent circles against your skin as he rests his chin lightly on your shoulder.

“So,” he murmurs, voice warm with curiosity, “what’re you actually studying, sweetheart?”

“Oh! Genetics.” You brighten immediately, clearly passionate.

Tilting the textbook towards him, you proudly show off the page. Dense paragraphs. Colourful chromosome diagrams. Words that made his eyes glaze over before he’d even finished reading the first sentence.

Katsuki stares. “Genetics?”

“Mhm.” You nod happily.

“It’s one of my modules this semester. At the moment I’ve got genetics, bioinformatics and genomics,” You pause, counting on your fingers. “and soil ecology.”

Katsuki responds with silence for a moment, blinking once, then twice. You wait patiently.

“You lost me after genetics.”

A quiet laugh escapes you. “I know.”

“No, seriously.”

He glances back down at the textbook as though it might suddenly become more comprehensible.

“What the hell’s bio… bioinfo…”

“Bioinformatics.”

“That.”

“It’s using computers to analyse biological data.”

“Right.”

He nods with complete confidence. He understood absolutely none of that.

“You know,” he admits after a moment, “I just realised I’ve never actually asked what you’re studying.”

“I never really talked about it.”

“I kinda just,” He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. “figured university was where you disappeared to during the day while I’m at work.”

“It kinda is.” You giggle.

Another silence settles between you. His eyes wander back to the textbook. Then to you. Then back again.

“You’re really studying all this?”

“Mhm.”

“And you understand it?”

You look at him with complete innocence. “Yeah?”

It was the confusion in your expression that finally made it click. You weren’t pretending. This wasn’t difficult for you; it was normal. Katsuki felt like someone had quietly rewritten everything he’d assumed. His girlfriend—who collected plushies, wore everything in shades of pink, talked to animals like they were people and had meltdowns over getting her outfit just right—was frighteningly intelligent.

“You’re scary.”

“I am?” You ask with a little frown.

“A little.”

“I don’t think genetics is scary.”

“No, sweetheart.”

He laughs, wrapping his arms a little tighter around your waist. “I mean you.”

“I thought you were just,” He hesitatingly continues, “Cute?”

“Can’t I be cute and smart?”

He laughs again, “Yeah.”

You smile, pleased with yourself, “Mmh.”

After another comfortable silence, you add almost absent-mindedly, “I’m one of the highest-performing students in biosciences at Musutafu Central.”

Katsuki's hand tracing your thigh froze. “Come again?”

You look back at him. “I’m one of the highest-performing students.”

“At Musutafu Central?”

“Mhm.”

He stares at you for several seconds.

“Angel.”

“Yeah?”

“That’s one of the best universities in the country.”

“I know.”

“You said that like you were telling me the weather.”

“I didn’t think it was important.” You shrug.

He barks out a disbelieving laugh before pressing a kiss against your temple.

“I’ve been spoiling you, kissing you, had your cute ass sitting in my lap for months, and only now I find out you’re secretly a genius.”

“I’m not secretly a genius.”

“No?”

“I’m openly a genius.”

The answer came so earnestly that he burst into laughter.

“There she is.”

“What?”

“My weird little girlfriend.”

Your face lit up. “Oh!” You immediately reach for your phone. “Do you wanna see the bee fridge?”

Katsuki blinks.

“The what?”

“The bee fridge.”

“The bee fridge.”

“Mhm.”

You unlock your bright pink phone, covered in stickers, tiny charms dangling from the case, and proudly hold up the screen.

He looks. Then blinks. Then he looks again.

“Are those…?”

“They’re my bees.”

“In takeout sauce tubs?”

“Mhm.”

“Inside a fridge.”

“The bee fridge.”

He looks at the phone. Then at you. Then back at the phone.

“Sweetheart. What exactly am I looking at?”

“The bees are sleeping.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You have to chill them before handling them.” You explain it with the same casual tone someone might use to explain how to boil pasta: “They slow down when they’re cold, so they don’t sting you.”

“Right.”

“So they have naps.”

He rubs his free hand over his face.

“You call temporary cold-induced stupor-”

“A nap.”

“A nap.”

“Mhm.”

He couldn’t help smiling. “You are the cutest nerd I’ve ever met.”

You beam at the compliment.

“I was testing the LD₅₀ of a new pesticide.”

His smile disappears.

“You were doing what?”

“It’s the lethal dose.”

“The lethal-”

“Fifty.”

“Angel.”

“Mhm?”

“I understood exactly three words in that sentence.”

You laugh, leaning back against him. “It’s basically figuring out how much pesticide it takes before fifty per cent of the bees die.”

“Right...”

“It helps determine toxicity.”

He stares at the phone again.

“So, you bought bees. Put them in little tubs. Made a bee fridge. Then scientifically poisoned them.”

“When you say it like that, it sounds mean.”

He looks at you with complete disbelief before laughing so hard he nearly missed the television entirely. “I’ve been dating an adorable little scientist this whole time.”

You nod proudly, “They let me be a scientist.”

“They really do.”

“And I’m good at it.”

“Yeah,” he mutters softly, kissing your hair, “I can see that.”

For a moment, he let you continue, trying to focus his attention back on the late-night rerun of a film he liked. It took him less than five seconds for his rough hand to continue its pattern up your thigh, tracing shapes into your skin with his thumb. You shiver lightly as he massaged the soft flesh of your inner thigh, instantly making his attention snap back to you.

“Easily distracted, aren’t you?” Katsuki smirks against your shoulder. “Find out you’re the smartest girl I know, yet here you are, pausing everything because I touched you.”

He tugs you closer, getting you settled as close as possible between his thighs, your back pressed to his chest. “Can’t help yourself, hm? Getting all needy on me?”

You shudder as his touch draws closer, the heat suddenly pooling between your thighs; you quickly shut the textbook, discarding it with ease.

“Don’t be mean-“ You whine, throwing the book to the side to hold onto his strong arm instead.

“Not being mean,” Katsuki corrects, his voice low as he noses against the sensitive skin of your neck, pressing soft kisses there, “Just think it’s cute how easy it is to fluster you. Find out you’re some little nerd and you still turn to putty if my hands are on you.”

His hand slides higher, tracing the fabric of your tiny sleep shorts, “You’re just too cute not to.”

It had become commonplace for Katsuki to place his hand over the plush of your mound, his middle finger pushing against the damp spot of your sleep shorts, already soaking through your panties at just a hint of his touch.

“Keep talking, sweetheart,” he murmured against your shoulder, pressing a little harder against your needy cunt, “tell me more about how smart you are. Don’t get distracted by me.”

You can only shudder, like your brain immediately shuts offline the second he wraps around you.

“Can’t think about stuff when you’re playing with me,” you barely manage to stutter out, gasping when he pulls your shorts and panties to the side, dragging his calloused fingers through the arousal soaking from your cunt.

“Baby,” he pouts, patronising and mean, “you say that like it’s a bad thing. Such a smart girl n’ your pretty little head goes empty when I touch you here.”

You whimper pathetically, hips arching and chasing into his touch as he skillfully circles your throbbing clit.

“You gonna be a good girl? Keep talking about your studies f’me while I play with this pretty pussy?”

You can only shake your head, thighs already trembling as he keeps you spread wide, biting your lip to muffle mortifying little moans.

“No? So smart n’ yet so dumb by my fingers,” Katsuki chuckles gruffly, teasing at your hole before finally filling you with his fingers, making you arch your back and let out a sweet little gasp that went straight to his spine, “gonna let me break that pretty little brain? Fuck you stupid?”

You nod, your gasps mixing with the lewd sounds of his fingers scissoring your gummy walls. Your toes curl as he curls against the spot that makes your tummy tighten.

“That’s my girl,” he mutters, stroking just right, making you see white, studying now firmly the furthest thing from your mind, “you gonna cum around my fingers, n’ then I’ll really fuck all the thought outta you.”

His thumb joins his fingers, circling against your sensitive nerves, quickly pushing you to the edge and over with a wanton, broken cry of his name, gushing over his digits, thighs clamping around his wrist.

He doesn’t give you time to rest, hands slotting under your knees as he lifts you, still keeping his chest to your back. He’s fast, with one arm joining under both your legs, freeing himself in one rough motion, his cock heavy; already flush and leaking.

The slide of his aching tip between your folds makes you spasm, jolts going down your spine, unable to move much in the way he has you held.

He sinks you roughly, settling to the hilt, stretching your snug cunt around him. “Katsuki-!” You whine high in your throat, the sudden fullness knocking the air from your lungs.

He keeps his arm under your knees, spread open and helpless, shuddering as he thrusts his hips up slowly, grinding against every spot that makes your legs jolt.

Your nails scramble across his bicep, looking for purchase; he gives you no time to adjust as slow rolls turn to a punishing, mean pace. He fucks up into you, snapping his hips against yours, groaning deeply every time your walls clench and flutter around his length.

“Yeah, baby, I know,” Katsuki grunts, hitting every spot that makes your toes curl, “gonna get that pretty brain melted, hm?”

His free hand, the one not holding you, reaches down, drawing mean hearts against your clit. Your back bows, cunt clenching around him, coming undone without room to move. Katsuki groans, nearly pained at the sudden tightness, the sound of skin on skin thumping in the quiet living room of his apartment.

He follows soon after, biting his lip to muffle his moans, cursing under his breath as he spills inside of you, filling up your tummy with white warmth. He doesn’t let you go as he grinds up into you, rolling you both through the aftershocks.

pervy best friend!choso who thinks you're his lucky charm and wants you to sit in his lap while he plays video games. while you're perched on his thighs with his arms on either side of you, he kisses your neck and nibbles on your ear as his fingers fiddle with his controller. when he wins a game he'll turn your face towards him and give you a peck on the lips, calling it a 'celebratory kiss'.

pervy bestfriend!choso who insists on coming with you whenever you want to buy lingerie - a second opinion is always useful right? he'll pick out a set in your favourite colour and wait for you outside the dressing room. once you're out, you give him a quick twirl bending down and shaking your ass a little. he'll come up behind you to help you 'adjust your bra strap', but really it's to feel your plush ass against his dick. you know exactly what he's doing and push back against him, grinding softly against his growing erection. when he coughs out a groan, you feign innocence, asking him sweetly if he's okay.

pervy bestfriend!choso who takes advantage of the fact that you become extremely affectionate when you're sleepy. whenever you go over to his place and end up sleeping over, you cuddle him tightly, wrapping your arms around his neck and throwing one of your legs over his own. choso feels his cock strain against the fabric of his boxers as you wiggle against him in an atempt to get comfortable, feeling your tits pressed against his arm and the warmth of your pussy against his thigh.

pervy bestfriend!choso who can't believe his luck when he looks over too see that the strap of your tank top has fallen all the way down and exposed your bare breasts. He stares as your tits rise and fall as you breathe, basically inviting him to suck on them. He leans down to watch your nipples harden and his mouth is on them in seconds. I mean, how could he possibly resist? Choso's eyes are half-lidded as he swirls his tongue around your bud, his spit coating every inch of your nipple.

pervy bestfriend!choso who is too focused on your chest to notice that you've been awake the whole time, watching him groan as he sucks your nipple passionately. Choso only realises you're awake when your hand travels to his hair and you start running your fingers through his thick strands.

pervy bestfriend!choso whose face is flushed in embarassment as he tries to explain why he was latched to your nipple just seconds ago but immediately shuts up when he feels your hand start to caress his bulge.

pervy bestfriend!choso who can't believe he might actually get to fuck you.

Nanami's hips roll and slap against your skin, the further he thrusts inside you. His entire bedroom smells of sweat and sex, despite several candles of the same scent lit and the window cracked open.

"Are you tired?" His gravelly voice has since gone lower as the moon and stars begin to flitter across the sky. Each syllable he's uttered turns sensual in your ears.

"No." You answer, swiftly locking him in for a kiss.

He wraps your legs around his waist securely and bottoms out again. A heady moan rips from your mouth, and he swallows the sound whole.

Nanami's kisses move to your nose, to the apples of your cheeks, down your throat, and then settle into the baseline between your neck and collarbone. There, he stops and sucks on the crook of it.

The sensation feels too good, rendering you completely into a state of pure bliss and arousal. You swear you hear yourself beg for more, telling him not to stop from both the way he's marking you and the way he's fucking you hopelessly raw.

He might've said something you didn't quite hear or passed a garbled response in return. No matter, you feel the pace quickening and his teeth latching to your skin tighter.

Nanami has never marked you like this before. Oftentimes, they were purely accidental, and they're almost always in discreet places where both of you fail to notice them. But, tonight, when you ask him to cover you with his marks, with something entirely Nanami, he pauses.

He isn't one to lose control easily. He is someone who does things with precision and careful considerations. Even then, a simple mishap can undoubtedly be rectified with alternative solutions.

Thus, an impulsive action such as this is unlike any he has ever committed before. There is a subtle bewilderment marring across his features, though anyone who doesn't know him to the extent that you do would have deduced that Nanami looks like he's only thinking.

There, in his eyes, is an undulated discovery of something quite like finding a secret that only he can have.

"Kento," you call out, cupping his cheeks. "What is it?"

He leans into the touch and kisses your palm. His thumb occasionally brushes the fresh bruise he caused. "It's nothing."

"It doesn't hurt, my love." You say. "If that's what you're worried about."

Nanami's smile appears at the corner. You feel it quirk up against the corner of your hand. "I know, darling."

"Can we continue?" You lightly tease, tapping your foot against the dimple of his lower back.

Nanami tilts your head over to the left. The other side of your unmarked neck becomes visible. He leans down to you, his breath only a whispering distance from your skin.

"Let me," he coaxes before he sucks on the unblemished skin.

His hands travel back to your thighs, massaging them repeatedly, ridding you of pins and needles. His thrusts never cease, as if all that stored energy he has had from being a sorcerer has done him well to maintain a consistent amount of stamina.

As Nanami moves to mark each underside of your breasts next, he guides your arms to his head where he insists that you run your fingers through his hair.

"Oh, shit, baby," you moan near his ears.

"Hmm," his voice vibrates.

"So good, my love."

Nanami momentarily pulls out. He guides your head on a fluffed pillow before he angles you in a venus butterfly position.

His lips move closer to the top of your sopping mound, where he sucks just right above your clit. You grip his hair hard, accidentally yanking a couple of strands. You couldn't even form an apology afterwards, because Nanami never stops his lustful drive. He bites against your skin, pulls your pubic hair teasingly, and moans languidly at the euphoric feeling of it all.

"Oh, my God! Kento! Wait! T-Too much!"

"Pull harder." He grits his teeth, looking at you through your curled bush. "I don't care. Just pull if you must."

Maybe because it's your cunt and it's been sensitive for the past few hours after coming several times, and it's also because it's near your clit where in replacement of his cock, his fingers resume the pounding, and maybe it's because it's simply Nanami Kento — whatever reason it can be, you never expect that when Nanami gives you a hickey right there, it's probably the most intense feeling you've ever felt than any of the hickeys he's given you so far.

And you wonder, why have you two not done this before?

You're left squirming for what little control you can find: none. Your hands scramble to the sheets, gripping them tightly before Nanami forces them back into his hair, demanding that if there's anything you're going to have to hold as he continues, it's going to be him.

"Baby," you call out in a daze. "T-Too much. Too sensitive."

"Just one more." He kisses your clit. "We'll be finished soon."

You must have agreed because it isn't just one more as he declared. Nanami scatters his marks everywhere around your body like constellations. They come in different sizes, each with their own sense of claim. He makes sure, however, that even when he discovers just how wonderful you are with the hickeys he's created, he wouldn't go overboard.

But the one thing he loves most from his work? It's that blotch of purple on your pussy.

"You look beautiful." He says in admiration, his index finger playfully twisting around your pubic hair.

You lean into his touch when he scoops you in his arms and embraces you tightly. "I want to give you one, too."

Nanami smooths your hair. "When you're well-rested. I will let you."

"All right."

© ohfreshlinen — all rights reserved. do not modify, edit, steal, or plagiarize my content.

Loving Yūji comes with a package deal you don't necessarily know how to deal with. Granted, you've loved him first before this whole ordeal even happened — it still is a matter of when and never an if, per se, when it comes to his special situation. 

"So tight, baby," Yūji says between sucking his breath. He's not quite sure whether to ram and go at a harsher pace or let you adjust to his girth first. His control is being tested too much right now. "Even after all that." 

You moan his name in praise before you lock your legs around his waist and pull yourself closer to him, effectively shutting him up from keeping things slow. You've always wanted things rougher, something that Yūji loves about you (but even then, he still wishes to take his time). 

"Oh s-shit, baby!" Yūji would've let his eyes roll back if he wasn't focused on keeping his entire weight off of you. "F-Fuck!"

"H-Harder, Yūji," you beg him, "please."

Yūji doesn't need to be told twice. He grabs hold of your thighs roughly and pounds into you like an animal in heat. You arch your back further for more, and he gives in. 

"So good, baby," Yūji drools, "so, so good. Oh my — fuck!" 

Just as you are coming down with your first orgasm, another voice pierces through the solidity of the air and breaks it easily as if he had done this countless times before. 

"Enchain." 

Suddenly you are flipped on your hands and knees. Your hair has been forcibly fisted and yanked until your head is pulled back enough to see your lover covered in tattoos, and a vitriol laugh teases your ears. 

"Y-Yū —" 

"Brat's not here," Sukuna's voice deeply rumbles against your skin. 

This is the first time he's ever made his presence known to you. You've heard stories of how Sukuna would pop on Yūji's cheek or his hands whenever he's got something to say (especially towards your sensei and Megumi), but not once has he ever manifested and broken through Yūji's control — and right in the middle of fucking, too. 

"Heh," he yanks you further until you can see his eyes gazing heatedly at yours, "pussy so good, my own vessel lost control. Let's see if you do live up to that expectation."

Then he slams your head against the pillow and fucks you senseless. It's wrong . . . to even feel how fucking good it is to be brutally pounded. 

Yet, here you are in the mercy of a sadistic curse, cackling like a bastard that he is. 

Sukuna had you spread out for him, as he continues to ram his cock up inside of you. One of his hands kneads your ass mockingly before he slaps each cheek hard. 

Your teeth bite into the soft fabric of the pillow, muffling your screams lest you want Megumi to hear you from the other side of the room. At this point, Sukuna slapping you might've really been a dead giveaway. 

"Y-Yūji —"

"My name, brat —"

"—Y-Yūji, Y-Yū—"

"— I said my name." He slaps your sloppily wet clit. 

You arch your back unknowingly to the sensation, and before you could have thought twice about it, your body yields and your mouth muddles the name, "S-Sukuna!"

"Good." He mutters darkly, "Good girl."

He fondles your breasts next. Then his tongue laps to the outline of your spine and back up to your neck, where he marks you. His canines have sunk into your skin so deeply, he can taste your blood, and that further fuels him into a mess of moans and praise as if he's drunk on an aphrodisiac. 

"Again." He orders you. "My name. Only." 

"Sukuna," you say. "Sukuna! Sukuna! Sukuna! F-Fuck, I —" 

"That's it."

The first of your orgasms comes to you like a torrent. It's harsh and unforgiving, much like how Sukuna doesn't even stop fucking you even as you try your best to squirm away. 

When you feel that he's finally slowed down, when his hands have released the hold against your body, and you allow yourself to breathe a little better, there's a sudden shift between you and the King of Curses. You realize that it's because you've been flipped back and your legs are locked around his waist again. 

"S-Sukuna?" 

"No," Yūji breathlessly says. He leans his face closer until his lips brush yours. "I-It's me, baby. It's me. I'm sorry. I-I lost control. Are you hurt?" 

You shake your head with a smile. "N-No, I'm fine. I'm more than fine." 

"Yeah?" Yūji perks up. You notice that his cock has hardened once more and he's repositioning himself to your abused cunt. 

"Yeah, baby." You laugh dumbly. "That was . . . quite exhilarating." 

Yūji bumps his nose against yours. The heat in his eyes is visible, but it is nowhere near as intense as the other pair you were forced to look at prior. 

"That was hot," Yūji admits. "Watching you . . . like that." 

"It was," you breathe out. 

When you peer below Yūji's eyes, you swear you've seen the glints of red and black squinting back at you as if to tell you that he's heard about your little honesty. 

Well, it really can't be helped sometimes. After all, loving Yūji does come with a deal. 

"Are you tired?" Yūji brushes your hair tenderly. 

You shake your head. "Not at all, baby." 

"Let me fuck you next, then." 

Loving Yūji comes with a package deal you don't necessarily know how to deal with. Granted, you've loved him first before this whole ordeal even happened — it still is a matter of when and never an if, per se, when it comes to his special situation. 

"So tight, baby," Yūji says between sucking his breath. He's not quite sure whether to ram and go at a harsher pace or let you adjust to his girth first. His control is being tested too much right now. "Even after all that." 

You moan his name in praise before you lock your legs around his waist and pull yourself closer to him, effectively shutting him up from keeping things slow. You've always wanted things rougher, something that Yūji loves about you (but even then, he still wishes to take his time). 

"Oh s-shit, baby!" Yūji would've let his eyes roll back if he wasn't focused on keeping his entire weight off of you. "F-Fuck!"

"H-Harder, Yūji," you beg him, "please."

Yūji doesn't need to be told twice. He grabs hold of your thighs roughly and pounds into you like an animal in heat. You arch your back further for more, and he gives in. 

"So good, baby," Yūji drools, "so, so good. Oh my — fuck!" 

Just as you are coming down with your first orgasm, another voice pierces through the solidity of the air and breaks it easily as if he had done this countless times before. 

"Enchain." 

Suddenly you are flipped on your hands and knees. Your hair has been forcibly fisted and yanked until your head is pulled back enough to see your lover covered in tattoos, and a vitriol laugh teases your ears. 

"Y-Yū —" 

"Brat's not here," Sukuna's voice deeply rumbles against your skin. 

This is the first time he's ever made his presence known to you. You've heard stories of how Sukuna would pop on Yūji's cheek or his hands whenever he's got something to say (especially towards your sensei and Megumi), but not once has he ever manifested and broken through Yūji's control — and right in the middle of fucking, too. 

"Heh," he yanks you further until you can see his eyes gazing heatedly at yours, "pussy so good, my own vessel lost control. Let's see if you do live up to that expectation."

Then he slams your head against the pillow and fucks you senseless. It's wrong . . . to even feel how fucking good it is to be brutally pounded. 

Yet, here you are in the mercy of a sadistic curse, cackling like a bastard that he is. 

Sukuna had you spread out for him, as he continues to ram his cock up inside of you. One of his hands kneads your ass mockingly before he slaps each cheek hard. 

Your teeth bite into the soft fabric of the pillow, muffling your screams lest you want Megumi to hear you from the other side of the room. At this point, Sukuna slapping you might've really been a dead giveaway. 

"Y-Yūji —"

"My name, brat —"

"—Y-Yūji, Y-Yū—"

"— I said my name." He slaps your sloppily wet clit. 

You arch your back unknowingly to the sensation, and before you could have thought twice about it, your body yields and your mouth muddles the name, "S-Sukuna!"

"Good." He mutters darkly, "Good girl."

He fondles your breasts next. Then his tongue laps to the outline of your spine and back up to your neck, where he marks you. His canines have sunk into your skin so deeply, he can taste your blood, and that further fuels him into a mess of moans and praise as if he's drunk on an aphrodisiac. 

"Again." He orders you. "My name. Only." 

"Sukuna," you say. "Sukuna! Sukuna! Sukuna! F-Fuck, I —" 

"That's it."

The first of your orgasms comes to you like a torrent. It's harsh and unforgiving, much like how Sukuna doesn't even stop fucking you even as you try your best to squirm away. 

When you feel that he's finally slowed down, when his hands have released the hold against your body, and you allow yourself to breathe a little better, there's a sudden shift between you and the King of Curses. You realize that it's because you've been flipped back and your legs are locked around his waist again. 

"S-Sukuna?" 

"No," Yūji breathlessly says. He leans his face closer until his lips brush yours. "I-It's me, baby. It's me. I'm sorry. I-I lost control. Are you hurt?" 

You shake your head with a smile. "N-No, I'm fine. I'm more than fine." 

"Yeah?" Yūji perks up. You notice that his cock has hardened once more and he's repositioning himself to your abused cunt. 

"Yeah, baby." You laugh dumbly. "That was . . . quite exhilarating." 

Yūji bumps his nose against yours. The heat in his eyes is visible, but it is nowhere near as intense as the other pair you were forced to look at prior. 

"That was hot," Yūji admits. "Watching you . . . like that." 

"It was," you breathe out. 

When you peer below Yūji's eyes, you swear you've seen the glints of red and black squinting back at you as if to tell you that he's heard about your little honesty. 

Well, it really can't be helped sometimes. After all, loving Yūji does come with a deal. 

"Are you tired?" Yūji brushes your hair tenderly. 

You shake your head. "Not at all, baby." 

"Let me fuck you next, then." 

To the world Izuku Midoriya was an angel, the golden boy. Behind closed doors, he is an absolate degenerate for you.

He's been obsessed with you since middle school and has notebooks filled with notes on your quirk, notes on how he wanted to fuck you, and lewd drawings/sketches of you.

He tracks your period cycle religiously, not just for aftercare, but because he knows exactly when you're ovulating and he gets extra horny and possessive during those days. He'll randomly grind on you and whisper, "you’re fertile right now, aren't you? I can smell it on you.”

When you’re sleeping, he’ll wake up just to stare at you He's been caught multiple times slowly rubbing his cock against your ass or thighs while you’re dead asleep, whispering filthy things like “Just the tip baby. I’ll be quick” and trying to softly wake you, just to get his dick wet.

He steals your used panties constantly. He has a hidden box with your worn thongs, especially the ones from after training or after you've been wet for him, He'll press them to his face and jerk off when your not home, sometimes aiming directly into the crotch before putting them back in the laundry basket.

He's obsessed with making you choke on his dick. He loves holding your head down and keeping you there until your throat bulges and tears stream down your face. “That's my stupid girl, choke on this cock” while trying to thrust, even though he's as deep as he can go.

He's extremely into dumbification. He calls you his “dumb little wife,” “stupid girl,” and “brainless” while fucking you senseless, especially when you're cockdrunk and can't form sentences.

Genninely very into lactation. Sucked on your breasts often during or after pregnancy to “Prevent mastitis.” Really just got rock hard while drinking your milk and he's really ashamed about it, but forgets when he latches onto your nipple.

He loves cockwarming. Hell fall asleep inside you or make you sit on his cock while you two watch movies, refusing to let you move. If you try, he'll whine and hold you down.

He has no sense of personal space. Even before you two were dating, he’d constantly hug you from the side, or behind, press his face into your neck or “accidentally” grope your chest if you two fell asleep together.

He loves risky public stuff. He'll finger you under the table at restaurants, make you wear vibrating panties while you two are out with friends, or pull you into alleyways for quickies after patrols.

He has a secret folder on his phone of videos and photos of you two fucking, He watches them when he's away on missions and jerks off while moaning your name.

katsuki who picks you up after a night out, pulling up outside to find you already subtly stumbling in his direction. the smile on your face is infectious as your arms spread to wrap around his shoulders, his wrapping around your waist as he stabilises you along with a gentle kiss being placed on your cheek.

katsuki who manages to buckle you into the seat before hopping in the drivers side and mouthing a small ‘thanks’ to your friends who make sure you’re handed off into the safest hands.

katsuki who carries a sleepy you into your apartment, strong arms wrapped under your shoulders and knees. he walks along the hall and into the bedroom, setting you down gently on the soft silky sheets of your shared bed.

katsuki who manages to manoeuvre your head into his lap, grabbing a cotton pad and some micellar water to remove the makeup on your face. his fingers wipe over your features that he admires, the look on your face peaceful and angel like.

katsuki who eventually changes you into your favourite pyjamas that consists of one of his oldest t-shirts, his carmel like burnt scent clinging to the fabric. a pair of cotton shorts adorning your legs.

katsuki who finally climbs into bed along side you, his arms pulling you into him as he caresses your side. he plants a soft kiss to the crown of your head before falling asleep, knowing you are safe and sound.

you sit on katsuki’s lap in public all the time. even though he’s not big on pda, he just likes having you that close. even when there’s plenty of seats, he’ll just pull you closer until the back of your knees meet his, and you have no other choice but to sit on his thighs.

he thinks it sends a message without him having to talk. because you’ve complained before about the way he tells people off when they hit on you. he doesn’t hold back at all. and he likes to please, though he’d never say it out loud, he looooooves to please you. so having you sit down just says you’re taken. and he doesn’t even have to tell guy to get the fuck away from you before he kills him. it’s just the best of both worlds.

that’s one of the few times he’ll be touchy like that with you in public. if you go to a bar, or to a friends party, it’s like it’s already agreed with the both of you. he sits down on the couch and already had his hand around your waist, squeezing it softly while he guides you to his lap. you like to sit sideways, so you can wrap one arm around his neck and he can wrap one around your hips. if he’s tipsy, he’ll even put a hand between both your thighs and you’ll shiver a bit. his hands are always so fucking warm. it drives you crazy, cause he won’t do anymore than that, not in front of everyone, not in your friend’s house.

lowkey wanna turn this into a full oneshot

if he heard one more twelve year old’s squeaky voice whispering to one another, saying he’s ‘got a crush on the school nurse’ he swears he’s gonna write up the whole grade.

god, it’s even worse when one of the eighth grade girls come up to him when he’s on lunch duty.

“mr., mr. ! did you know the nurse mentioned she likes tall guys when i went into her room for a tylenol !”

“what does that have to do with me ?” he grumbles, scrunching his face while the girl and her friend stare up at him.

“well everyone knows you like like her—”

“GO SIT DOWN!”

he swears the whole lunchroom conveniently goes quiet when he yells that as the girls squirm away back to their tables and start whispering around gossip.

and even worse than the girls that draw hearts around you and sukuna’s staff photos next to eachother in the main office, he’s got gojo. gojo, who ships you two and nags him like worse-than a middle school girl. gojo, who shoves you two together for any school event.

“what game do you have planned for tomorrow?” you ask, leaning over to whisper to sukuna as eighth grade awards are called for each subject, timing claps inbetween your words while names are called. you smirk, “how many kids am i gonna have sent my way next time?”

“just dodgeball.” he leans down to whisper flatly against your ear, still staring down a kid giggling in the seating rows of the auditorium and effectively getting him to stop with his gaze.

“your version of dodgeball is basically to the death, i might have to have paramedics in my room on standby.” you joke, turning to smile at him so sweetly. in his mind, this counts as him making you laugh and therefore counts as a win.

he chuckles lightly, just a quick huff of his chest, but essentially the hardest he can laugh if he’s not looking at a kid getting tackled in class. “these kids will toughen up eventually, i am just teaching them to do it early.”

“were you a weak kid that needed to toughen up? i can really only picture you as a big scary dude.”

“i was actually a severely malnourished child due to my mothers impoverished state during her pregnancy.“ he says, truly not realizing how solemn he sounds in his voice even as he means it as a light hearted jest.

you blink at him, face contorted in confusion and awkwardness. he wants to hit himself.

the only thing that saves him from not saying anything stupid again is the end of the assembly, marked by gojo yelling into a megaphone and for kids to round up by homeroom.

the following week he’s still embarrassed to even look you in the eyes. he’s mulling over how stupid he must’ve looked infront of you while sifting through the equipment closet.

he hears steps echo throughout the currently empty gym before he yells out.

“gojo i’m not covering your lunch break, fuck off—” he turns around to not see the usual suspect he finds during his free period. instead, he sees you, leaning against the door in scrubs and white coat clinging to your body. he stills in his motion.

you speak before he can (if he can speak at all in his embarrassed state).

“i understand the confusion, he bothers me all the time too.” you dismiss, smiling at him with your glossed lips he probably thinks about hourly. waitwaitwait, gojo talks to you all the time ? he’s going to kill that lanky fuck. “just wanted to drop these off for yuri in your next period.” you jostle around a pill bottle in your hand, “she can get fainty on gym days so give these to her just in case to help prevent that.” he knows it’s your job and all, but your concern is honestly kinda cute.

“uhh yeah i’ll be sure to.” he nods, right as you drop the bottle on top of a stack of rubber cones by the door before you walk out. and he would just like it to be known he definitely didn’t stare at your ass as you left.

and he typically makes it easier for himself to deny how down bad he is to you, but now, after you spent a week of saved up sick days out last week, he’s kind of craving your voice. so who can blame him when he calls his 6th grade nephew into his office while he’s supposed to be at lunch.

“look, kid. i’m going to need you to do something, and i’m gonna need you to not be annoying about it, kay?”

yuji furrows his brows, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie.

“you,” he gestures to his nephew, “are going to act like you collapsed and let me bring you up to the school nurse. you are then going to be quiet when i talk to her.”

“is it cause you have a crush on her—”

sukuna tenses before cutting him off.

“do a good job acting and i will consider buying you that human earthworm blu-ray. do you hear me, brat?”

yuji’s eyes light up at the mention of the dvd.

“is this impression good enough then?” yuji leans and clutches at his side in fake fatigue while moaning dramatically for help, then immediately straightens up with a smile like he’s waiting for a rating. sukuna shakes his head and genuinely wonders how he’s related to this—in sukuna’s words— pea brained doofus.

he dials your number on his offices phone, sitting tense in his chair while he shh’s yuji. yuji nods and salutes as sukuna continues to roll his eyes.

yuji could’ve sworn he saw him smile when you pick up. he continues to watch sukuna fiddle with the curled wire of the phone as he explains yuji’s apparently dire situation. he can just barely hear the muffled sound of you saying ‘just bring him up and i’ll check him out.” over the speaker of the phone before sukuna hangs up and fixes his hair.

sukuna walks out the door and desperately tries to ignore yuji’s terrible post fainting impression behind him as his nephew follows his step to your room.

just before they step into your room he whispers to yuji as he leans over.

“if you can bring up me being single i’ll take you out for ice cream, brat.”

i will be watching for your enemies to let them know that they contend with me sleep token - give

do you even KNOW what you started tina

i have a very clear image of femkuna's pussy listen to me for a second. she obviously has a happy trail and a full pink bush (she just trims it every once in a while, when it feels right), her pussy itself is a nice brownish color and she has an outie for sure so scissoring feels like the most wonderful experience you could ever had. that and combined with her abnormally big clit ugh she's hitting all the right spots.

she also loves being on top, she loves the view of your body sprawled in her bedsheets, tits bouncing while she plays with you how she likes. she flicks your clit and plays with your boobs to get you nice and wet before smashing her pussy against yours. obviously keeping one leg open on the bed and the other resting on her shoulder so she has full access to your pretty pussy.

In honor of this getting animated...

18+, MDNI!!!

Gris Rubion is a gentle lover. Especially when his girlfriend is usually so shy and reserved, he's more than happy with just going at your pace and tend to your needs as best as he can. Until one night you have a drink too many during a party at Cleaners HQ and he's face to face with a totally different side of you— bolder, definitely hornier, whispering softly in his ear "please, don't hold back."

And suddenly you're face down, ass up, Gris' hips colliding into yours with a speed and vigor you had never seen from him, though perfectly fitting for his build. One of his large hands is splayed over the small of your back for leverage, while his other is wrapped firmly around the headboard. The chatter from the common room is enough to cover the sound of the bed creaking under the sheer force of his thrusts, and he allows himself to be louder than usual.

You, on the other hand, are losing your mind. Drool drips from the corner of your mouth and onto the pillow your face is shoved in, no articulate sound coming from you apart from the slurred cry of his name in-between harsh slaps of skin against skin. "Nghh— mhf!" are the sounds he mostly hears, along with loud, whorish moans he wasn't aware you could produce whenever his cock would hit that soft little spot inside of you.

"I - hah - never thought you liked it this - fuck! - this rough, b-baby..." Gris breathes out, his chest and carved abs slick with a sheen of sweat. It was his first time going all-out on you, after all. "But you take it so. Fucking. Good." Each final word was punctuated with a sharp thrust, followed by the sweetest whimpers falling from your lips.

So what if he ends up cracking the headboard from gripping it too hard? It was just a small accident! Of course, he'd rather get devoured by a trash beast than explain it to Semiu or accidentally being heard by Enjin, but it's definitely worth seeing your blissed, fucked out expression, flushed with afterglow, and full of his cum. It's just a matter of learning to manage his strength with you!

normal people usually do something relaxing when they want to take a break from a grueling week of work. well, you and enjin are far from being normal people, because this is your scene— a shady-looking club in the shadiest part of town, a rundown warehouse that could only be classified as a huge, barely-standing safety hazard.

if the beat of the music hit a wall the wrong way, the whole thing would certainly tumble down like a jenga tower, but there’s not a single person in there who’s aware of their surroundings, mind heavily dazed by one party favor or the other.

the bouncer let you in almost instantly, the line of people waiting by entrance throwing a fit as you flashed the guy a smile (an enjin slid a twenty in his hand).

there’s many other people you could ask to come to the club with you, but none of them bring the vibe you need quite like enjin— he knows what you like, is what you tell yourself.

as soon as you step in, you both make a beeline for the bar for the mandatory couple of shots you need to get the night started. you cringe at the sight of other patrons idling by the counter with their forearms resting atop the wooden surface. the rash you got that one time from the sticky mixture of substances was a very important lesson for you.

with two shots down and a comforting warmth left in your throat, you try to find a spot in the crowded dance floor that you can claim. “see anything?” you nudge enjin’s side with your elbow, growing somewhat impatient since you know the dj’s going to start playing good music soon.

“girl, it’s packed,” enjin quips, patting his ribs just to be dramatic. “girl, you’re six feet stupid, make yourself useful,” you volley right back. he rolls his eyes, then turns his head to survey the area once more. you zone out for a second, and the next you’re being dragged through the crowd.

enjin’s shoulders are wide enough to pave the way for you, though you still bump into some bodies, too lost in the tunes - and definitely something else - to even have any semblance of spatial awareness in them. his big hand is laced with yours, and you try so hard to not let your slightly altered brain stray to any improper thoughts.

not yet.

“does your majesty like it over here?” enjin asks, loud enough for you to hear him over the loud music. he managed to flesh out a spot near one of the booths, the floor slightly elevated, a makeshift railing separating the area from the main one.

“awww, jin! see, i know you could get the job done!” you pat his cheek twice, grinning wide. you see the bulge of his tongue rolling over the inside of his cheek, before his head jerks to the side, trying to bite your hand. you screech, withdrawing just in time, and debate if you should punch him square in the stomach when he barks out a laugh.

“you’re the worst!” you glare up at him, only to be met by half lidded, golden eyes peering down at you, the sarcastic “uh-huh” on his lips ringing so loud in your head even if it’s completely muted by the loud beat. you’re still deciding whether you want to continue this petty back and forth when the dj makes the decision for you, blasting one of your favorite songs.

and enjin watches it happen right before his eyes, your face changing from a grumpy glare to a radiant smile, eyes growing big and sparkly as you spin on your heels to start hooting along with the crowd. now it’s his turn to do what he does best— match your energy.

that’s how the two of you spend the first hour, singing at the top of your lungs, the usual playlist that blasts through the speakers one that you’ve memorized by now. he keeps you close when your small spot begins to get more crowded, but he takes the responsibility to watch out upon himself, making sure you can enjoy your night without worrying about one single thing.

though it’s hard to keep it together when you rub all up on him like a cat in heat, back flush against his front, gyrating to the beat. you use the railing as leverage, ass moving in rhythmic circles that get him hypnotized.

his hand finds your waist almost instinctively, inked finger hooked around one of your belt loops, his only semblance of stability in case he passes out. enjin still tries his damn best to catch everything you throw his way, hips rolling in sync with yours, bucking upwards every time your ass came down.

it doesn’t take long for the silly dancing around to get heated. when the tune shifts to something slower and intimate, enjin gets bolder. he uses your belt hoop to haul you closer, free hand snaking around your side, large palm splayed along your ribs with his thumb stopping only shy of the underside of your breast.

he doesn’t hear your gasp but he feels it, the way your breath hiccups, a slight tremble in your shoulder. he loves it when you fit so pretty and perfect against him, bodies falling into a familiar harmony.

your arm slithers upwards, wrapping around enjin’s neck, your head falling against his collarbone while he buries his nose in your hair. his breathing is heavier, and you know it’s not only because of the heat, or the dancing— his hard-on is quite impossible to ignore, and with all your squirming around, you’re not exactly helping the situation.

and as much as you’d love to taunt him until he basically has to rip you away from the place and brings you back to HQ - if he can even resist all the way there - your parched throat becomes your number one issue.

“i’m so fucking thirsty!” you whine, making your chapped lips pop a couple times as you turn around to face him. you gotta give it to him, he’s very good at hiding the fact that he’s currently dying with a raging boner. “i’ll go get something,” he points his thumb in the direction of the bar. “you try not to get kidnapped or anything, ‘kay?”

“mhm, yes sir,” you purr, nuzzling your nose into the curve of his jaw. enjin knows you’re just being cute because he’s giving you what you want, but he can’t deny that he absolutely loves it.

you idle around while waiting for him, chatting up a girl and dancing a couple songs with her since you figure the line for the bar’s got to be insane at this hour. when enjin finally makes it back, the color of the drinks he’s holding is already a couple shades lighter, melted ice cubes watering down further whatever concoction is contained in the plastic cups.

“thank youuu,” you sing-song when he hands you the drink, lips immediately wrapping around the thin straw to take in a big, freezing gulp. the liquor leaves a trail of liquid fire from your tongue down your throat, your nose curling into a grimace at the absolute foul taste.

“god, this tastes like shit,” you cough out weakly. “i love it.”

after a couple sips you resume your ministrations, like enjin’s chest was a magnet for your back. he is absolutely mesmerized by the way you look, the way you move. the hand that’s not full with his cup is splayed over the small of your back, keeping you all pretty and arched as you whine your hips right against his crotch once more. it’s almost like you love to torture him like this— well, he knows you do.

so he decides to double down, make you taste a bit of your own medicine. his hand slides up your back, fingers coming to hold your hair in a makeshift ponytail and move it out of the way. you straighten up, head starting to move to the side to ask what he was doing, before he stopped you.

the cold plastic cup came in contact with the nape of your neck, your body instinctively wincing from the sudden change in temperature, then you melted into the refreshing sensation. enjin watches the droplets of condensation that were clinging to the plastic transfer to your skin, mixing with your sweat.

when he withdraws the cup, he’s quick to replace it with his tongue, licking along the cool patch all the way to the side of your throat. you try to muffle a noise, but he feels it rumbling in your chest, and the clench of your thighs is another giveaway.

oh, how he wishes it he could hear it over the deafening music, your soft, breathy ”jin…” when you become a needy little thing. he goes over the same strip of skin, this time with languid, wet kisses, biting into the juncture between your shoulder and neck— a promise.

he can’t hear you but he sure can see how worked up you’re getting with all your squirming around. you back your ass into him, but you’ve already tortured him enough. and you don’t have even half of the self control he has.

“awww, someone’s getting antsy,” he chuckles into your ear, gripping your hip to stop you. “be nice, and maybe i’ll take you back. we’ve barely been here for a couple hours, you really want to call it a night so soon?”

you look back at him from over your shoulder, lips curled into the cutest little pout. “jin…”

there it is.

you fully turn to face him, pretty tits squished against his chest as your hands interlink behind his neck. “wanna go back?” you offer, sugar-sweet words dripping from your tongue. long, inked digits dance along the curve of your ass, your hip, pretending he’s actually pondering on the question.

“are you gonna scurry away after you get what you want, pretty girl?” he taunts, the flicker of vulnerability gone as fast as it flashed behind his honey pools. “i’ll stay,” you mouth, parted lips moving against his own after you tug him close.

tonight, you’ll stay until the morning. next time? who knows.

┊┊a/n. og idea from the great mind of the lovely @lxnarphase, with my own added twist :p i miss throwing ass in the club icl

BIIIG fluffy boyfriend!Kirishima who's abs are hardly ever defined because he's just so beefy, and you wouldn't change it for the world- laying on his chest is like having your head on a cloud. Not to mention when he puts his arm around your shoulder and you're faced with heaven itself (Eijirou's boob on one side, his humongous biceps on the other)

And you know he used his size to his advantage...