#weeb reader

he always finds you pressed into the very corner of the bed, knees pulled up to your chest as you huddle your phone close to your face. you think you’re being secretive and slick, but he can practically read every line backwards from the reflection of your glasses.

“What nasty shit are you reading about me now, princess?” He asks, readies himself in between your legs. you try to be slick with it every time, try to read the nastier fics when he’s not home. but you couldn’t help it! you had been waiting for this one to update for five months now, you couldn’t wait another single second!

“Nothing nasty,” you lie straight through your teeth, hope your wobbly smile is convincing.

It isn’t.

It’s how you find yourself with your knees spread open and pressing flat against the bedsheets. Bakugou lays between them, your pants discarded somewhere across the room. your voice shaking and breathy as you read the next line to him.

“He—he pressed his t-tongue deeper inside of you,” you stutter, eyes crossing before you force them to straighten up to finish the next line. Bakugou hums, follows what the line you read is saying, buries his face deeper between your legs to curl his tongue inside of you.

you don’t realize that you’ve stopped reading until you get a sharp pop against your thigh. you squeak, grip your phone tighter between trembling fingers as Bakugou irritably grumbles up at you from where his mouth rests against your soaked pussy.

“What happens next?” He asks, but he doesn’t really care. The plot of this fic is shit, the smut is half assed, and he’d never call you soft shit like the light of my palms, or whatever the dickhead who wrote it, said. he just likes the way your voice goes all high pitched and whiny, how your breath stutters and gets stuck in your throat, how you whimper when he hums with your clit in his mouth for you to keep going.

"And how would you know that?" you ask, bored. The man puffs his chest up, glad that you're finally giving him the attention he so desperately craved.

"That cosplay. You can't be a fan since you're missing--"

"I know what I'm missing from his costume. This costume is paying homage to his UA days, hence the lack of a halter top, and just a regular tank." you list off, before going back onto your phone. The guy scoffs again, another stepping up to you instead this time.

"Well what's his favorite color?" One folds his arms and looks down at you from his nose. You answer while still typing to your followers.

"Red. People think it's orange or black because of his costume, but it's red." You rattle off, huffing in frustration when you keep misspelling a word. The guys don't let up though, keep rattling off questions that you flawlessly answer until they get to one.

"Well what's his favorite cereal, since you know so much, fangirl?" He practically snarls, stepping closer to you until his shadow looms over your screen. You sigh.

"He doesn't eat cereal in the morning. Just plain oatmeal, that he occasionally throws a bit of chili pepper into." You answer, finally finishing up your typing to look the men in their faces. Instantly, they burst into laughter, pointing at you and slapping each other on the back.

"Oatmeal?" one laughs as he wipes away a tear. "Like he's some old man!"

"She thinks she knows so much! Can't believe how confident she was!"

"Everyone knows its All Might-O's!"

They keep jeering at you, poking and making fun the longer you ignore them. You only start to get fed up when one of them lands a large hand onto your shoulder as the others start making comments about the exposed skin of your costume. Before you can even slap him off, someone from behind you is grabbing the offending hand in theirs, crushing it with an audible pop of knuckles as the man gasps.

"First of all, don't ever fucking touch someone without their permission, you fucking creeps." The voice sends shivers down your spine as your eyes buck and you spin around on your heels. The man is wearing a black hat, but the unruly blond spikes and the irritated red eyes already tell you who he is.

"Secondly, she's right, you morons. I don't like all that sugary shit, so shut the fuck up and get out of here." The men scurry before Dynamight can even fully get the words out. They apologize hastily, more to him than you, but they're gone in an instant.

You don't realize that you've been stuck staring at the hero, or that he's sizing you up appreciatively, until he opens his mouth and you miss his words. You hum in question, finally knocking yourself out of your haze as he huffs through his nose and jerks his chin to the rest of the bustling con around you.

"I said, do you want to walk around the con with me, since you're alone? This is my last time asking." he grumbles, scratching his nape as he tried to keep his eyes up like the respectable man that he is. You only grin and nod your head quickly. Fuck yeah, you were going to take this 'y/n life' opportunity!

...

Weeks after meeting and walking around with the Number Two hero, you guys hit it off. You somehow got his number, and even went over to the hotel he was staying at! While sex should have been on your mind, instead the two of your just talked and talked into the night.

You gushed about him as a hero and rattled off all the fan shit you knew. And while he also was secretly expecting sex from the cute fangirl nerd he had walked around with all day, he actually enjoyed your company and bragging about all the shit he had done in his hero life. Also spilled a little bit of harmless dirt on his friends before you two crashed that night.

But now it's been weeks, and the hero finds himself in your neighborhood more often than not. He stops by at the most random of times, sometimes to hear about fangirl shit from you, sometimes to drop the fact that Denki sniffs peoples seats whenever they leave.

But he realized that a few of these unknown facts to the media have started drifting around the internet. He knows that none of his friends would drop small embarrassing facts about themselves or others, so he realizes it's you.

It all comes to a head one night when he invited himself over. You were just about to get in the shower and told him to wait on the couch before you got out. He complies, but picks up your phone the moment he hears the water running. With his hero knowledge, the fucker somehow manages to unlock your phone and starts snooping around, trying to figure out how the hell you were spreading this information.

After brief looks at your dry ass text messages, he starts looking through your apps and pauses when he finds an account. The account is nothing special, just another weirdo fan account of him, but what stops him in his tracks is that you're logged in and you have over 6 thousand followers, consisting of talking about him.

His brain practically oozes from his ears when he clicks on a link on your top post, a link which sends him to, what he guesses, is all the shit you have talked about and written about him. And with the key code at the top of the very long list, it's a majority of smut. Written about him. By you. The innocent nerdy fangirl who rattled off everything she knew about him.

Before he realizes he's doing it, he's clicking on one of the links, completely unaware of how the shower water stops. He's so engrossed into every line, how scarily accurate everything is (even though his dick is both long and thick, thank you) he doesn't realize that you're standing behind him until you let out a startled scream and instantly lunge for your phone.

Bakugou is fast though, catching you by your toweled waist and pinning you down onto the couch by the small of your back. You're flailing, arms thrashing, legs that still hang off the back of the couch kicking wildly. You pause though, when you hear a chuckle.

"I knew fangirls could be dirty, but I didn't think that you'd be their ring leader, nerd." He chuckles, pushes your back harder until you slowly melt onto the couch fully. You sit up, attempting to grab your phone again while still holding up your towel, but he grabs your reaching wrist, pulls you in until you fall halfway onto his lap. He smirks down at you, watches how your eyes dart from his to your still open phone.

"I'm not their ring leader! I'm just another blog about you!" you cringe as soon as the words leave your lips, eye screwing shut as you berate yourself in your head. You slowly open them though, when you feel his warm breath against your cheeks.

Bakugou is staring down at you, eyes half lidded as he licks his lips. They trail down to the water-droplets that slide down your skin, until the gather to where you're halfheartedly holding your towel to your body.

"If you wanted me to handcuff you, spank you, then spit in your fucking mouth, why didn't you just say so, princess?"

Holy shit. Were you really becoming y/n, or was this another daydream and your boss is actually yelling at you right now? By the pinch you give yourself on your inner arm, it wasn't a daydream.

"I-I don't, I, um,"

"I-I-I," Bakugou mocks, quickly tucks your phone into his back pocket as he pushes you to lay flat on your couch. Your eyes are wide and unbelieving as he smirks down at you. You're still holding your towel to you, but it opens slowly the closer he leans down. He pauses to glance at it, grabbing your hand in his and peeling away the offending fabric until your wet and naked body comes into view.

"This is what you wanted, right?" he asks, leans down to run his lips across the peaks of your nipples. You shudder, instantly grip his hair in your hands.

"Wanted the Number Two Hero to catch you when you're coming outta the shower? Wanted me to be the insatiable beast, that you wrote, take you like the whore you are? That's what you wrote, isn't it?" He whispers, darts his tongue out to taste your skin. Your back arches into his chest as he trails down further and further until he hovers over your already dripping cunt.