#ylvra

summary: random texts between you and your loving husband izuku

!!: pro hero!reader, teacher!izuku, nsfw-ish, cursing

a/n: i love this sweet guy so much bro i want to impregnate him

summary: someone keeps texting you…but you can’t see their number. every message comes from an ‘unknown’ sender, and no matter how many times you block them, they always manage to text you from other numbers which also comes from ‘unknown’ senders. who is this mysterious person texting you?

??: try to find who is texting you.

!!: cursing, toxic themes, everyone is in 3rd year

summary: you text mha boys a stupid question late at night. how do you even come up with them?

??: izuku midoriya, katsuki bakugou, shoto todoroki, kirishima eijirou, denki kaminari, shinso hitoshi.

!!: i made this in the middle of the night while being half asleep so there might be some mistakes😞this post isn't even funny btw im crying

author’s note: hi guuuysss!! i wanted to write for whc for like a very very long time and i’m finally giving it a try. i’ll probably post smaus and headcanons here and there because i need to feed my delusions💔 so yeah, hope you enjoy my content! AND PLEASE SEND REQUESTS😭😭 this was funnier in my head😓

warnings: fem!reader, cursing, mischievous wooyoung —nothing more.

yeon sieun

ahn suho

kang wooyoung

park humin

go hyuntak

na baekjin

geum seongje

a/n: it’s kind of ass but it’s okay…right🥹

!!: fem!reader, timeskip!katsuki, suggestive at the end, proofread.

going out had been denki’s idea.

denki gets bored on a friday, texts the group chat asking for a hangout, mina immediately agrees because mina agrees with everything, and then suddenly it’s a whole thing and katsuki is sitting in a club at eleven at night wondering how he got here.

he knows how he got here.

he got here because you texted sounds fun in the group chat, and he’d read that and put his phone down and stared at the ceiling for ten seconds before getting up to find something to wear.

he would take that to his grave.

the place is loud, which he expected, and crowded, which he also expected, and exactly the kind of environment he has a low tolerance for on the best of days. bass through the floor, lights hurting his eyes, mina already trying to drag denki onto the dancefloor.

katsuki has a glass of beer he’s barely touched and a spot at the edge of the couch that has a view of you across the high-top table, laughing with jirou.

he watches you for approximately five seconds before looking away.

he’s been doing that all night. five seconds, then away. trying to be careful. any longer and kirishima starts smirking at him with that unbearable knowing expression.

“YOU HAVING FUN??” denki suddenly appears, shouting over the music. he was too focused on you that he didn’t even realize denki was there.

“no.” he replied, looking at his drink.

“CLASSIC BAKUGOU RESPONSE—”

“go away, denki.”

denki leaves him alone with a silly grin. katsuki takes a sip of his drink and looks back at you—five seconds—and then at the club’s door, thinking.

he could leave. he’s been here an hour and a half, which is more than he owes anyone. kirishima would give him grief about it tomorrow but kirishima gives him grief about everything and katsuki has developed an immunity. he could just go.

except you’re still talking and laughing with jiro, head tipped back, and the light catches your face in a way that makes his heart pound.

he stays. at least for now.

it’s another forty minutes before the crowd starts getting on his nerves in a way he can no longer manage through sheer stubbornness. someone bumps into him from behind without apologizing while he was walking towards where you were—and the music has shifted into something he can’t stand, he’s done.

he taps your shoulder, getting your attention on him. “i’m heading out.”

you look up, and something flickers across your face. disappointment, maybe. or something close to it.

“already?” you ask, looking around your surroundings.

“it’s been two hours.”

“but we—”

“do you want to come or not.” the words land before he can arrange them into something that sounds less like a demand, and he watches you blink and then start to smile.

“was that an invitation?”

“it was a question. answer it.” you’re still smiling, which he’s pretending not to notice.

“let me finish my drink.”

he tells kirishima you guys are leaving and kirishima’s face does the thing—the eyebrows, the grin—and katsuki just levels him with a look that lets him know what will happen if a single word comes out of his mouth.

kirishima mimes zipping his lips.

you guys walk away before the smug satisfaction on kirishima’s face has time to get worse.

outside, the air is cold and clean and immediately better. he exhales through his nose, shoulders dropping. the noise of the club gets swallowed by the door swinging shut behind you.

you come to stand beside him, putting your jacket on. “so..?”

the door to his apartment swung open, hitting the wall softly. he stepped inside, pulled you after him, and closed the door shut behind you.

you were against the wall before you could think of something teasing to say. his warm hands cupped your face, mouth crashing onto yours. your lips parted instantly, tongue sliding against his, and he groaned into your mouth.

there was no gentle buildup, no slow exploration. he was hungry for you. his hands dropped to your hips, yanking you against him, feeling the heat of your body through the thin fabric of your dress. you arched into him, your fingers threading through his surprisingly soft hair, pulling him deeper.

"katsuki.." you gasped against his lips.

he didn't answer with words. he picked you up and carried you down the hallway, trying open his bedroom door with one hand. the bed was unmade, sheets tangled. he didn't care. he laid you down on it, your hair spreading across the duvet, chest rising and falling fast.

he stood over you, drinking the beautiful sight of you in. the dress had ridden up your thighs, lips swollen from kissing. fuck, you looked like a goddess.

"you want this?" he asked. it was the last question he'd ask tonight.

a/n: hello! this particular post was in my drafts for waaaay too long and i think it is finally the time to post it. i’m honestly proud of this chat idk.

!!: fem!reader, not proofread, pure fluff.

— you have your own section in his notebook. it started as observations—little things he noticed about you that he couldn’t stop thinking about..and slowly evolved into something that looks like love letters. if you ever find it he will actually combust. the lil notes say things like “she does this cute thing when she’s concentrating...i don’t think she knows she does it.”

— he overthinks every touch. is this okay, is this too much, did she want that or was she just being polite. you can actually see the internal monologue happening in real time on his face. over time though, as he gets comfortable, he settles in. he instinctively reaches for your hand in crowded places, rests his chin on top of your head when you’re standing in front of him, traces little patterns on your shoulder or arm when you’re sitting together, completely unconsciously..he’s a sweetheart.

— when you talk, izuku listens. not politely-waiting-to-talk listens. actually listens. eyes on you, head slightly tilted. he will bring up something you mentioned in passing three weeks ago naturally. “didn’t you say that place was your favorite? we should go.” he makes you feel like everything you say is worth hearing, because to him it genuinely is.

— when you’re sad, he doesn’t try to fix it immediately. this is hard-won wisdom for him because his first instinct is always to do something. but he has learned, carefully and attentively, that sometimes what you need is just someone to sit in it with you. so he does. he stays close, keeps quiet, and lets you feel it without rushing you to the other side. when you’re ready to talk, he’s ready to listen. when you’re not, he’ll put something comfortable on tv and make you both tea and be warm and present until you’re ready to talk.

— jealousy looks very different on izuku than you’d expect. he gets quiet in a specific way. he’ll find a reason to be closer to you. a hand at your back, angling himself into the conversation. he will never say i was jealous directly but he will absolutely ask later, if you’re happy. what he means is am i enough. the answer is always yes. tell him directly and watch the tension leave his shoulders all at once!

synopsis: shinso has a tiny little problem. he might have developed a crush on you—his favorite pro hero’s daughter. the bigger problem? you don’t even know him at all! but shinso is nothing if not strategic. if getting close to the girl he likes is difficult, then he’ll just start somewhere else.

w/c: 268

SINSO?

you were going to be sick.

not literally…but probably. your dad had been running you through the same combo for the past forty minutes and your arms were done, like actually done, hanging from your shoulders like wet noodles while your dad watched you from across the room with a deadpan expression.

“again,” he said.

“dad…” god, you shouldn’t have asked for help from him in the first place

“again, yn.”

you reset your stance reluctantly, groaning loudly. behind you, the door of the training room slowly opened. you realized your dad’s gaze shifting to the source of the sound. you didn’t look though.

“daaad—”

“aizawa.” he corrected you.

“are you embarrassed of your d—” you were interrupted by an another person.

“sensei.”

you spun around, ready to complain…and that’s when you saw…him.

your dad in a different color palette. you were both just…standing there, staring at each other. and he had a scarf around his neck just like your father. 

“shinso?” your dad’s voice came from behind you. “you needed something?”

shinso tore his eyes off you — took him a second, which you were not going to think about — and looked at your father. “yeah. uh.” he reached up and adjusted the scarf around his neck. “i had some questions about the scarf. binding techniques, mostly. izuku mentioned you’d be here so I figured—” he glanced at you again briefly. “—sorry, i can come back later.”

“no, it’s fine,” your dad said, already moving towards the purple haired guy. “we were almost done.”

you turned back to your father, furrowing your eyebrows. “we were not almost done? what?”

author’s note: i forgot to finish this and it ended up rotting in my drafts💔 i finished this half-asleep in the middle of the night, so i’m not sure if it’s any good i’m sorry in advance😭 also it’s my first time writing this long and writing a smut so i think it might be a little lame IMSORRY

warnings: fem!reader, smut, PinV, unprotected sex, not proofread.

wc: 1,041

“suho..” you mumble softly, stepping closer, your voice laced with concern and care. “when will you stop overworking yourself?” he grunts in response, his boyish voice rough as he mutters, “i’m okay, i don’t need anything.”

you hate that he never prioritizes himself, hate that he always says he’s okay. you know he isn’t the most vocal person when it comes to his personal needs, but still…

“i actually do need something...but you might get..mad?” he muttered, sinking onto the couch with a small grunt.

you might get mad? why would you get mad at him for needing something from you?

“what..?” you stepped closer to him, now standing between his legs as he sat on the couch. of course, his hands found your thighs, gripping them gently.

he looked up at you with half-lidded eyes and a lazy smile, it was clear as day how tired he was. and he looked cute like this.

“well, it’s something we’ve never tried before..but i think i need it right now.” he said in a soft, quiet tone. “need what? just tell me already, suho!” you replied, impatient as always. he chuckled, giving your thighs a little squeeze.

“do you miss me when i’m working?” he asked, changing the topic. what a stupid question—of course you miss him when he’s gone.

you nod in response, not even bothering to use your precious words.

“good,” he said as he leaned forward to rest his forehead against your stomach. “i miss you too…so much that i can’t even focus on my work.” he sounds so damn needy, which, well…is expected at times like these. after coming home late from work, tired and sleepy, all he wants is to be close to you and drift off in your gentle embrace.

tonight, however, feels a little different.

he’s being clingy. yes, he is always clingy, but this feels different.

“just tell me what you want, suho.” you said. you were starting to get annoyed now. “wanna eat you out.” he replied almost immediately.

oh.

well…that wasn’t at all what you expected him to say.

but before you could even think of something to say, he started talking again. “please.” he mumbled, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. how could you ever say no to that face? you can’t—and he knows it all too well.

“i thought you were tired?” you ask, your eyes searching his face.

he’s just looking up at you, waiting for the word ‘okay’ to slip from your pretty mouth. he knows you’ll give in sooner or later—but patience has never been his strong suit.

“pretty pleaseeeeeee?” he drags out. “i’m not that tired, i promise.”

yeah, no.

“i won’t take any responsibility if you end up passing out.” you mumble under your breath. then suddenly he’s on his feet—excited and all. “is that a yes?”

he guided you to sit down on the couch, desperate to bury his face between your thighs. his voice comes out ragged, a breathless whisper, “fuck, i wanted this for so long...”

suho doesn't waste a second, he pulls down your panties along with your shorts. you can feel his hands shaking slightly, and you can’t help but smile a little. how cute.

he takes a shaky breath as he sees how wet you are for him already.

he knows he can’t wait any longer, so, he dives in tongue-first, his mouth crashing against your wet folds with sloppy urgency. his lips suck hard on your clit, tongue lapping at your slick entrance like a starving animal.

it's messy, saliva mixing with your juices, dripping down his chin as he groans into you. “taste so good, baby..” he pants, his breath hot against your sensitive skin, his exhaustion making every lick erratic and frantic.

you gasp, your fingers tangling in his sweat-damp hair, pulling him closer as waves of pleasure shoot through you. his tongue thrusts deep inside your pussy, swirling without rhythm, driven by pure neediness.

he's not gentle; it’s raw and urgent, his face pressed so tightly against you. “fuck..suho—you..” you moan, your voice breaking as his sloppy sucks send jolts up your spine. he grabs your hips roughly, fingers digging into your flesh, holding you in place as he devours you, his own pants growing louder.

the room spins with the intensity, your body arching as his tongue flicks over your swollen clit again and again. but suho's exhaustion fuels his desperation; he pulls back for a second, his lips glistening, eyes locked on yours with a feral hunger.

“i can't fucking wait anymore.” he growls, his voice hoarse and needy.

before you can respond, he shoves you back onto the couch, getting on top of you, his hands fumbling with your clothes until you're bare beneath him. his cock strains against his pants, and he frees it quickly, his cock already leaking pre-cum as he lines up with your dripping entrance.

he thrusts inside you in one sloppy, forceful motion, filling you completely. his hips slam against yours, the rhythm uneven and frantic from his tiredness, each pump rough and deep.

“fuck, you're so tight…” he grunts, his breath hot on your neck as he pounds into you. you cry out, your nails raking down his back, feeling the slick slide of his cock stretching you wide.

it’s overwhelming, his neediness making every thrust feel urgent and raw, your pussy clenching around him as he hits that perfect spot inside.

your moans echo through the room, louder with each sloppy thrust, your body rocking under him. “so close..—“ your voice a needy whimper as his exhausted body drives into you relentlessly. he responds with a guttural groan, his hands gripping your hips tighter, pulling you onto his cock with bruising force.

you feel him swelling inside you, his pace faltering as he nears the edge.

sweat drips from his forehead onto your chest, his breaths coming in short, ragged bursts as he buries himself deep. “i'm gonna cum—fuck.” he rasps, his voice breaking with exhaustion and desire.

his cock pulses inside you, and as he finally lets go, filling you with his cum, he collapses against you, still holding on tight.

yeah, he definitely showed you he’s got more than enough stamina.