WAAAHHHH SO ROMANTIC ໒꒰ྀི ៸៸៸៸ ก꒱ྀི১

hello! So far you have made really good post, and it made me think, what if you made one about bakugou x y/n, they JUST started making out and started this thing where after class and even the cafeteria hours they would go to the roof top and make out, and then come back to class and act like nothing ever happened. Also somtimes he would throw a paper and secretly desk her under the desk where they would meet up. 😍

when katsuki wants to make out during class

something soft hit your back, causing some giggles to be heard from around you. you raised your eyebrow, and when mister aizawa faced the chalkboard, you turned around to see nothing. a hand waved in front of your face, kaminari’s hand, to be exact, and his finger then pointed at the ground.

a crumpled-up ball of paper lay on the ground, so you bent over to grab it, opening the paper under your desk. maybe it had something in it. on on page, nothing was there, so you turned it to see the words ‘ask to fill up your water bottle’ with a little explosion drawing at the end, which is how you figured out it was katsuki who wrote the note.

you grinned and raised your hand, throwing the paper into your backpack.

mister aizawa finally turned back to you and asked, “yes?”

“can i please fill up my water bottle?” you held it up and shook it, and when no sloshing around was heard, he nodded.

you picked it up and walked outside the classroom, katsuki soon followed behind after he asked to go to the bathroom. he stomped after you, placing your water bottle next to the fountain before giving you a sly smile and gripping your hip. he shoved his lips onto yours and softly groaned, kissing you repeatedly, strings of saliva still connecting your lips after parting for a short period.

he lifted up your thigh, pressing it against his hip as he continued to kiss you. words haven’t even been spoken yet, but it was clear what the two of you needed.

even after that, he continued to ask you to leave during class or lunch to spend time with you. he didn’t just love you for your body, he didn’t just want pleasure, he wanted you as a person. katsuki knew he wasn’t good at expressing his emotions or love for people in a healthy way, but this was the only way he felt he could do it. it would always leave the two of you breathless, red, and even more in love.

to him, this was one of the most intimate acts someone could do, and he loved you with his whole soul. he never regretted skipping class to make out with you, besides when you heard a loud yell and chuckle from someone across the hall.

an annoyingly familiar voice rang in your ears, “hey, class 1-a! did you know two of your students, bakugo and l/n skip class just to make out in the halls?” monoma loudly chuckled, “class 1-b would never—“

he would always be smacked in the head by kendo, who would apologize and ‘leave the two of you be.’

that was one of the only times katsuki had felt embarrassed after making out with you.

hope you enjoyed this! i’m so happy you love my writing, your compliments mean the world to me. also, i gained around seven asks in one night so im trying to catch up, i apologize that i am not posting as often

ft. katsuki bakugo

party’s over, dumbass.

“Katsuki, you absolute menace, put me down!”

“Not a damn chance.”

The flashing lights from paparazzi cameras were relentless, but Katsuki Bakugo didn’t give a single shit. What he did care about was getting your stubborn ass out of this damn party before the sun came up.

He had warned you. Multiples times. First, with a simple, “We’re leavin’ soon.” Then, with a pointed, “Oi. It’s almost one.” After that, he even tried the dreaded, “You’re gonna be a pain in the ass tomorrow if you don’t sleep.”

But did you listen? No.

Instead, you were still here at almost two in the goddamn morning, laughing, drinking, and somehow ignoring every single one of his sharp glares.

So, he handled it the only way he knew how.

By throwing you over his shoulder like a damn sack of rice and marching out of the venue while cameras flashed and onlookers gawked.

You were kicking and flailing over Bakugo’s shoulder like some kind of feral raccoon, and he was handling it with all the patience of a sleep-deprived babysitter. Which, to be fair, is exactly what he felt like right now.

“You’re a tyrant,” you huffed, smacking his back.

“And you’re a goddamn liability,” he shot back, tightening his grip as you squirmed like a toddler avoiding bedtime. “You think I got the patience to deal with your drunk ass at three in the morning? Hell no.”

People were staring. Cameras were flashing. Paparazzi were practically frothing at the mouth.

—Dynamight’s Mystery Date Held Hostage?!

—Pro Hero Bakugo CARRIES Lover Away From Exclusive Party—Relationship Drama?!

Meanwhile, Kirishima and Mina were losing their minds on the sidelines, filming the whole thing like it was premium content.

“BROOOO,” Kirishima wheezed, “you look like a dad carrying his screaming kid out of a toy store!”

“SHUT THE HELL UP!” Bakugo barked, already regretting everything.

You, however, took full advantage of the attention, draping an arm over your forehead dramatically. “Someone save me! I’m being kidnapped by Dynamight!”

“Oh my god, do that again, I need another angle,” Mina cackled.

Bakugo swore he was going to explode something—preferably this whole night—as he stomped toward the car.

“You’re the worst,” you groaned.

“No, dumbass,” he huffed, finally dumping you into the passenger seat. “You are. Now shut up and put your seatbelt on before I do it for you.”

And just like that, the door slammed shut—sealing your fate as the most dragged out partygoer of the year.

© sakuraszn! xoxo

BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ THE DRESS CODE

Bakugou was in a bad mood.

It was stupid, really. Absolutely stupid. But he couldn’t help the scowl on his face as he approached your desk.

“Oi,” he snapped, crossing his arms. “What the hell are you wearing?”

He had taken his time this morning, making sure the maroon shirt he picked out was one he actually liked. It wasn’t over the top or anything—just a plain shirt with a white skull on the back, paired with some casual black pants.

But it was the principle of the matter. You were supposed to match. That was the whole damn point.

The UA student council had this dress code specifically to celebrate Valentine’s Day. Maroon for those who’re in a relationship, blue for those in a situationship, green for those in the “friend zone,” black for those who are admirers from afar, and the plain school uniform for those who are more inclined in their studies to even bother with romantic relationships.

Was this your way of subtly denying him as your boyfriend? It wasn’t like you two were in hiding—and it’s not like he doesn’t mention that you two are seeing each other whenever someone pesters him about it.

You looked up, eyes wide and innocent. “Huh? My uniform?”

Bakugou’s brow twitched. “Yeah, I can see that. Why?”

You blinked, clearly not understanding what he was getting to. “Because… it’s Friday?”

“Did you forget what today is?”

You stared blankly at him, confusion written all over your face.

“...Friday?”

“Valentine’s Day!” he barked, causing a few of your classmates to glance over in amusement. He jerked his thumb at his own shirt—a simple red tee with a black skull printed on the back. “Maroon’s for people who are dating. Thought we were gonna match.”

You felt as though your soul just left your body.

“Oh... oh.” Your hands flew to your mouth. “I... I didn’t know! You never told me!”

“Didn’t think I had to. It’s common sense.”

“And you don’t even like Valentine’s Day! So... I thought we weren’t doing the dress code thing...”

That was true. But still! He was adamant on making you look like the one in the wrong here.

“Well, I am,” he pouted. So subtle it could be mistaken for his signature grimace. “And I heard from Ears that you were planning on wearing maroon, you idiot.”

“I told her—I was thinking about it, though.”

Bakugou’s shoulders sagged, the irritation draining a little. “Yeah, well... I went and did it. Thought it’d be obvious we’re together if we matched. You had a shirt with a golden dragon on the back, too, right?”

Your heart fluttered, your gaze finally meeting his. He remembered. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks—Bakugou Katsuki, the loud, brash, and unapologetically stubborn hero-in-training—your boyfriend, wanted to show off your relationship. Publicly. On Valentine’s Day.

A moment in history!

You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Instead, you jumped to your feet. “Wait here!”

Before he could argue, you bolted out of the classroom, leaving Bakugou standing there, baffled. He turned to find his classmates blatantly eavesdropping.

Mina’s eyes were practically sparkling. “Awww, Bakugou, you wanted to match with [Name]?”

Kaminari snickered. “Dude, that’s so cute.”

Kirishima grinned, throwing an arm around Bakugou’s shoulders. “You really have gone soft, man.”

Bakugou’s eye twitched, and he shrugged Kirishima’s arm off roughly. “Shut it, Shitty Hair. I just didn’t wanna look like an idiot wearin’ maroon by myself,” he grumbled. “And Sero’s wearing green—‘nd I don’t see anyone picking on him!”

“Cool it, man,” Sero laughed, shaking his head. “The incident still stings.”

“We salute you, brave soldier,” Kaminari replied.

Mina sighed dramatically, resting her chin on her hands. “Young love...”

His cheeks turned crimson. “Mind your own damn business!”

Before his embarrassment could escalate, you came running back, slightly out of breath, with something red clutched in your hands. You unfolded it and slipped it on—a maroon cardigan. It hugged your frame just right, with allowance to spare, the color bringing out the warm shimmer in your eyes.

You looked at him, your fingers fiddling with the buttons. “I had this in my locker. Does this work?”

Bakugou stared at you, his irritation disappearing like a factory reset process. You looked... cute. Really cute. But he wasn’t about to say that out loud. He cleared his throat, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Yeah... s’fine, I guess.”

Your face brightened, a smile breaking across your lips. “Really?”

He looked away, his voice gruff, though there was no heat in his reply. “Whatever.”

Their moment was interrupted by Mina’s dramatic squeal. “And they say romance is dead!”

Kaminari gave a thumbs up. “Didn’t think Bakugou could be such a romantic.”

Kirishima laughed. “Man, who knew you’d be such a softie?”

Bakugou’s eye twitched, and he spun around, his hands sparking. “One more word and I’ll kill all of you!”

His classmates laughed, not the least bit intimidated. They could see right through him—Bakugou Katsuki was completely, undeniably, head-over-heels for you.

Turning back to you, his voice softened, his anger dissipating. “C’mon, let’s go. Cafeteria had those stupid snacks you wanted.”

Your smile never wavered as you followed slightly behind him.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Katsuki.”

“Yeah, yeah... Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Bakugou hopes the next Valentine’s Day to come is when he can properly match with you. He won’t let you forget this time around.

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

Dazai and female s/o being each other first time?

✿ 》Those Promises Of Yours.

╰⧼ 🪻 note.. ⧽ ; I got you anon. coming right up. [ holy shit zai update. apologies for my absence once again, writing hasn't been a priority recently but I'll try to start up again :) feel free 2 send in vague concepts / thirsts pls ]

╰⧼ 🌙 contents.. ⧽ ; dazai x f!reader, nsfw, slight corruption from dazais end but its still all consensual, vague mention of self harm once, dazai can't keep his fuckin promises, slightly rough sex, no aftercare but it's hinted at + he's soft at the end anyway. I suck at dialogue.

dazai osamu was a womaniser, a player anything but loyal.

that was something that everyone had learnt to know and only some could bring to love. this fact wasn't foreign to you, and neither was it ignored. though you certainly hadn't anticipated that he himself was a virgin.

so you found yourself in his lap in your apartment. he'd refused to take you back to his, claiming "a princess such as yourself should have the luxury of familiarity," but you could've easily called his bluff with the stench of alcohol on his breath. the place was probably ridden with bottles and signs of his lowest mental points.

he'd never been good at being vaunrable anyway.

dazai fumbles with your shirt, his hands shakily trying to unbutton them in a way that would hopefully erase the concept he didn't know what he was doing. you took it upon yourself to close your hand over his, giving him a soft smile, which he returned. you could almost smell the anxiety dripping from his body. was he sweating?

"it must be the drugs," he mumbles, finding an excuse. his voice is hoarse, tense, even. nothing like the usual confidence he carried himself with; his tone had never been anything but smug. and you liked this side of him. you loved it.

"you're sober." you respond, your tongue had carried nothing but truthfulness this entire time. and you were nervous too. the vaunrability that was required of both of you was enough to keep your mouth without a lie. he laughs breathily, sliding your shirt from your shoulders and unclasping your bra with only mild difficulty.

"I could be masking, no?" the brunette begins, his hand sliding down under your skirt to tap at the inside of your thigh. your breath hitches. "I've always been rather good at hiding when I'm high. you should know that." you shake your head. he didn't smell like any drug. just him. just dazai.

"you're being too conscious to be high." you respond, working to undress him back. it'd be too awkward if you were the only one shirtless, your mind wasn't foggy yet. but you still couldn't get rid of the ache between your legs. he was all you needed.

dazai doesn't respond, merely wrapping a hand around your neck and pulling you into a kiss. he was acting, you could feel it. none of his gestures were the same as how you'd see him treat the ladies he'd woo at the bar. it felt real, raw. you kiss him back.

he helps you undress him, you find yourself in a state where the only covers you both possess are your underwear. completely at each others mercy, vaunrable.

he wasn't sure if he hated it or not.

dazai brings a hand down to pull your underwear aside, collecting your wetness with his middle finger. it almost felt like he himself was adjusting to your anatomy, figuring where he'd have to touch to make you feel good. he'd always spoken about wanting to give you the best experience he could.

you wince at the intrusion as he slides his finger into you, feeling him bend down to gently kiss your forehead as he worked you apart like woolen scarfs in the autumn. the warmth of a promise to carry you through to the next spring. an unvoulentary whimper leaves your lips as he brushes against a certain spot, and you swear his eyes darken a shade.

dazai had promised himself he'd make sure it wouldn't hurt for you. he promised that he'd gently ease you in. he'd promised a lot of things. but after seeing you like this, you might as well slice his pinky finger clean off.

he doesn't quite know what's coming over him when he lays you down on the couch, pulling your underwear completely down and tossing them somewhere in the room, he didn't care. he slides a second finger into you and almost lets out a gasp at how you tighten.

he'd promised to be gentle.

"osamu." you whisper, your voice almost foreign to you. his eyes met yours, then did his lips. you'd felt how desperate he'd become, sloppy open mouthed kisses where his tongue tried to cherish your taste for all eternity. maybe calling him by a name he'd never heard wasn't the best idea.

he pulls away, pulling his fingers out and making quick work of shuffling his boxers off. gently sliding his cock in-between the warmth of your folds, daring to slide in without the prep he knew you would've needed.

the prep he promised.

he meets your gaze, noticing the slight fear in your eyes. he knew it'd hurt you, dazai knew damn well the pain the stretch would cause. but something about those eyes of yours, something about the look of fear. it was almost like he didn't care. he didn't mind breaking a promise.

"..hold your breath." He mutters, gradually sliding himself into you, and you let out a whine, trying to hold your breath like instructed. he felt your nails dig into his back. they'd be nice marks to tattoo permanently, maybe you'd be a healthier method of drawing his own blood. his pelvis pressed against yours

he smiled as you let out a shaky exhale, staying still to allow you at least a small adjustment period. cupping your cheeks as a tear fell down your cheek. fuck. he couldn't even find it in him to feel bad anymore. you were so warm.

you'd only managed to focus your eyes to look up at him for a second, before clenching them shut as he snapped his hips against yours. it stung, you could feel the trickle of blood.

"ah- 'samu-.. wait-!" was all you could manage to say, hearing his breath get heavier as he set himself a pace. he wasn't waiting for you to adjust anymore, he wasn't waiting for anything. if he could prioritise himself once, this was the time.

"shh-.. shh.. 'tll feel good. I promise. fuck-" his voice broke, moving a hand to hold onto your thigh, pushing it up to meet your shoulder. you were never this flexible, it almost stung. but you couldn't do anything but trust him.

and something about it did feel good. even as the burn hit you from more areas then you would've liked; something about the desperation behind how dazai fucked you and how he was using you to relieve his stress. it felt good. you enjoyed to be used like this.

your mind fogged, feeling him hit that one spot inside you repeatedly, you were struggling to breathe. struggling to think straight, struggling to focus on anything but the man inside of you. and dazai seemed the same. his mouth half open and bangs out of order, hanging in front of his eyes. you could hear his heavy breaths and faint whines. and it only turned you on further.

your nails dug into his back, the only sensation you processed was his thumb rubbing your clit as you hit your high, chanting out his name like a mantra as he chuckled, his thrusts becoming rougher before he buried himself deep into you, an unfamiliar warmth filling your abdomen. your vision going white.

you almost blacked out for a moment.

"..sweetheart?" a sweet voice called out as you regained your ability to see. dazai's arms were shaking, obviously struggling to keep himself pinned up over you. his eyes were softer, kinder. a man you barely knew. there was a shine of concern in them.

"..are you okay? shit- did I go too far? 'm sorry.. you felt so good.. you're a good girl.." and all you did in response was smile. he'd done enough, he'd always be enough. though the stickiness between your thighs and loss of fullness as he pulled out was mildly discomforting.

"mmhm.. im fine." you reply, feeling him sit himself back, pulling you up and into his arms. pressing you close to him and peppering you with kisses. "I love you.. s'much.. my baby.. im sorry.. i know I broke my promise. i'll get you cleaned up.."

you just smiled. maybe this broken promise wasn't so bad after all.

"my pretty girl"

I'm unzipping your jeans with my teeth.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Holding hands .𖥔 ݁ ˖

☘︎ . . . genre. fluff

☘︎ . . . pairings. bakugou x fem!reader

⤿ yn has a habit of holding her friends hands except for bakugou.

⋆˚✿˖° j speaking . . .

- this has been in my drafts since November and I’m only posting it now🥲

-this is inspired by a wonwoo oneshot it’s from tiktok and the author’s name is serenedust_ you can check it out in tiktok, happy reading, my loves! <3

YN had this little habit—one her friends were well aware of. Crowds made her uneasy, and whenever she found herself surrounded by too many people, she’d instinctively reach out, intertwining her fingers with whoever was closest. It was a small, grounding gesture that helped her keep calm.

Her friends had grown used to it over time.

“Ah, the famous YN hand-holding ritual,” Mina teased one day, giving YN’s hand a squeeze. “It’s cute, you know. Like you’re our little comfort buddy.”

YN laughed, a little embarrassed. “I just… feel calmer when I’m holding someone’s hand. I’m weird, huh?”

“Nah, we love it,” Kirishima reassured her with his usual bright grin. “In fact, you’re welcome to cling to me any time, YN. A pro hero should be able to help out with stuff like that, right?”

Mina nodded enthusiastically. “Totally! Besides, it’s not weird if it’s helping you feel better.”

YN was grateful for their support. She knew they didn’t mind her habit, and that only made her more comfortable reaching for their hands whenever she needed it. But there was one person she’d never tried holding hands with—Bakugou.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to. If she was honest with herself, she sometimes thought about it, imagining how it might feel to intertwine her fingers with his. But Bakugou was… well, Bakugou. He wasn’t exactly the “gentle touch” type, and she figured he’d probably find it annoying or weird if she reached for him in that way. So she always avoided touching him, keeping her hands to herself when he was around.

One day, as they sat together for lunch, Mina brought it up, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Hey, YN, have you noticed that you never reach for Bakugou’s hand?”

YN nearly choked on her drink. “W-What? I—uh…”

Kirishima chuckled, leaning in. “She’s got a point, you know. You hold our hands all the time, but not Bakugou’s. Are you scared of him?”

“Scared?!” YN stammered, her cheeks heating up. “I’m not scared of him! I just… I don’t think he’d like it, that’s all.”

Mina gave her a knowing look. “Oh, really? Because Bakugou here doesn’t seem like the type to get flustered over something as small as holding hands.”

“Shut up, Pinky,” Bakugou growled, though he didn’t deny it. His gaze shifted, and he avoided looking directly at YN.

YN could feel her face burning, but she quickly changed the subject, laughing it off. “Anyway! It’s not a big deal. I’m fine with holding your hands. It’s just… different.”

But her friends’ teasing lingered in her mind, making her hyper-aware of Bakugou’s presence. She had no idea that Bakugou, on the other hand, had been noticing her habit all along. He’d seen her reach for Mina’s hand, loop her arm with Kirishima’s, and each time, he felt an uncomfortable pang of jealousy. Why wouldn’t she reach out to him? Did she think he wasn’t as dependable as the others?

As much as he tried to brush it off, it bothered him more than he’d admit.

During UA’s annual festival, the crowded grounds buzzed with excitement. Class 1-A had been helping with setting up booths, and the noise and energy around them were overwhelming. YN could feel her nerves kicking in as they made their way through the busy festival.

“Whoa, it’s packed,” Kirishima said, glancing around.

“Tell me about it,” YN mumbled, trying to keep her breathing steady.

Sensing her discomfort, Mina grabbed YN’s hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. “Hey, remember we’re all here if you need us.”

YN nodded, grateful. They continued walking, and as the crowd around them grew denser, she instinctively reached out to grab another hand. Her fingers slipped through someone else’s, feeling warm and steady—until she looked up and realized whose hand she was holding.

Bakugou.

Her heart jumped, and she immediately tried to pull her hand back, stammering, “I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

But Bakugou’s grip tightened, refusing to let go. His expression was calm, almost unreadable, but his gaze was intense as he looked down at her.

“Quit squirming,” he muttered. “If it helps you feel safe, just… keep holding it.”

YN stared up at him, her cheeks turning a deep shade of red. “B-But I didn’t think you’d want to…”

“What, you think I didn’t notice?” he interrupted, voice a little rougher, though he wouldn’t meet her eyes. “You’re always holding their hands, but never mine. You think I’d mind?”

Behind them, Mina and Kirishima exchanged wide-eyed glances, grinning like they’d just witnessed the world’s biggest revelation. Mina’s voice echoed in a teasing whisper, “Ohhh, looks like someone’s finally holding Bakugou’s hand…”

YN was mortified, but Bakugou simply glared at their friends. “Mind your own business.”

They continued through the festival, YN’s hand still tightly wrapped in Bakugou’s. The warmth of his grip was both unfamiliar and comforting, and she could feel her anxiety melting away. For once, the noise of the crowd didn’t seem so overwhelming.

She glanced up at him, offering a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, Bakugou.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled, though his cheeks had the faintest hint of a blush. “Just don’t let go all of a sudden.”

Mina nudged Kirishima and whispered, “Think they’ll let go after this?”

Kirishima laughed quietly, giving her a playful nudge back. “Not a chance. I think we’ll be seeing a lot more of this.”

As YN walked with Bakugou, hand in hand, she realized she didn’t mind the teasing. In fact, she didn’t want to let go at all. And judging by the way Bakugou’s grip stayed firm and steady, he felt the same way.

Years into their careers as pro heroes, YN and Bakugou had seen more than their fair share of action and chaos. Tonight, however, was one of those rare, peaceful evenings, where the two of them could finally unwind together. They’d just finished a mission, and now they sat sprawled on Bakugou’s couch, swapping war stories over takeout.

As they relaxed, a comfortable silence settled between them until YN, lost in thought, let out a small laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Bakugou grumbled, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, nothing,” YN said, shaking her head with a smirk. “Just… I was thinking about that festival back at UA.”

Bakugou squinted suspiciously. “Which one?”

“The one where I, uh… accidentally grabbed your hand.”

Bakugou’s face turned pink, but he quickly masked it with an annoyed scowl. “Accidentally, huh? Keep tellin’ yourself that.”

“Oh, come on, it was!” YN protested, laughing as she nudged his shoulder. “I thought you were Kirishima! But then I looked up and realized it was you, and I was mortified. I was ready to disappear right there.”

Bakugou snorted. “Yeah, I noticed. Thought you’d drop dead from embarrassment.”

“Hey! You didn’t help by tightening your grip, you know!” YN shot back, giving him a playful glare. “You practically crushed my hand! What was that about?”

Bakugou shrugged, feigning indifference. “Thought you needed the support, or whatever. You looked like you were about to pass out.”

YN giggled, shaking her head. “Sure, sure, big tough hero just wanted to help.”

Bakugou cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well… I was waitin’ for you to do it all damn year, you know. You’d grab everyone else’s hand like it was nothing, and when it was me, suddenly you couldn’t even look at me.”

YN blinked, surprised. “Wait, you… actually wanted me to hold your hand?”

“Tch,” he muttered, crossing his arms. “Why do you think I always stood next to you in crowded places? Wasn’t a coincidence, idiot.”

Her laughter softened into a warm smile. “So all this time… you were jealous?”

Bakugou shot her a glare, cheeks bright red. “I wouldn’t call it jealousy.”

“What would you call it, then?” YN asked, smirking mischievously.

“A strategic maneuver,” he said, nose in the air. “If you got anxious, it was only logical that I’d be the one to handle it.”

YN snickered. “Right, because nothing says ‘tough guy’ like hoping someone will hold your hand.”

“Oi!” Bakugou growled, though his expression softened into an uncharacteristic smile. “You’re lucky I let you grab it at all.”

“Lucky, huh?” YN teased, leaning into his shoulder. “Well, in that case, I guess I’m lucky you’re still holding it.”

Bakugou’s fingers intertwined with hers, his grip firm but gentle. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t go getting sappy on me now.”

YN rolled her eyes but didn’t let go, letting the warmth of his hand remind her of that day at the festival—the beginning of something she hadn’t realized they both wanted.

And for the rest of the evening, every time she tried to pull her hand away, Bakugou would grumble, tightening his grip and muttering, “Strategic maneuver, remember?”

YN only laughed, realizing that some things really never change.

© jxwl4k 2025

Ranpo/reader + Dazai Osamu ➛ getting caught

content: nsfw, teasing, semi-public sex in a storage room, degradation ("slut", "bitch", etc), vaginal sex, finger sucking, thigh grinding | reblogs & comments appreciated!

~2,6k words | ao3 link | kinktober masterlist

There was something unnatural, something outright demonic about how terribly insatiable Ranpo was.

Often, this proved to be an advantage to you — you certainly weren't complaining whenever he spent hours between your thighs, eating you out with a tongue so clever it should have been illegal, or when he kept on fucking you even after having come already, not intent on stopping until you were sobbing out his name in desperate pleas.

Right now, however, you really wished he had some more decency, because humping you in the storage room when you both should have been working was awfully risky; too risky for your tastes.

“Ranpo—, we really should get back to work. Please.” Your voice sounded breathless, and you squirmed as the edge of the shelf dug uncomfortably into the soft skin underneath your shoulder blade. “Someone's going to wonder where we disappeared to.”

“So?” Ranpo's smirk was cheeky. “Let them wonder. You don't seriously believe Kunikida is going to suspect that we're making out in here.”

“Well, no, but—” You interrupted yourself with a tiny whimper as Ranpo once more rolled his hips against yours; your eyes fell closed on instinct, lashes fluttering against your cheeks. “Please.”

“See? You just invalidated your own concerns. He's not going to look for us. Just focus on me.”

“But someone else might”, you protested weakly, your eyebrows knitted together into a frown. The thought of Yosano or even Fukuzawa finding you both in such a compromising position wasn't a pleasant one. Or, even worse—

Ranpo merely clicked his tongue at you, mirth sparkling in his eyes as he raised a shoulder in a shrug. “You'll just have to stay quiet then.” He leaned forward, lips right next to your ear, voice low; “You can do that, right? Wouldn't want anyone to hear you mewling the way you usually do on my dick, right?”

Heat rose to your cheeks at those words and you narrowed your eyes in disdain, glaring at Ranpo. “I don't mewl.”

“Sure you do.” As if to prove you wrong, his leg suddenly pushed between your thighs, spreading them, and ground down against your crotch, a smirk causing the corners of his lips to twitch upwards when your breath caught in your throat.

A choked out moan left your mouth almost on cue, your legs trying to close again on instinct — in vain, of course.

Another jerk of his leg had you whimpering, his thigh all but rubbing insistently against your cunt, and even though layers of clothing were still hindering you from skin on skin contact, the sensation was intense enough to cause you to throw your head back with a high-pitched whine.

Even worse; your arousal was drenching your panties already, and, God, how were you supposed to keep on working while wearing these once Ranpo decided he was done?

“See? You're mewling like a bitch in heat, and I barely even touched you yet.”

Sometimes you forgot just what a sharp tongue Ranpo had.

The words were crude enough to make you try and hide your face in his neck, dark hair brushing against your forehead, and Ranpo snickered.

“What, are you embarrassed? I'm just stating the facts. I bet you'll be even louder once I actually get to fuck you.”

“Ranpo”, you whined, shaking your head against his shoulder, “We can't, seriously, imagine if someone walks in on us.”

Even though that was what you were saying, desperately trying to cling to the voice of reason, you were unable to stop yourself from grinding down against his thigh as arousal coiled in your abdomen, hot and heavy and terribly persistent.

Your clit was throbbing with need, and with each roll of your hips against his leg, you gasped, faint and high-pitched noises clawing their way out of your throat.

When you took your actions into consideration, your words really weren't convincing.

It seemed Ranpo thought the same.

“Hey, I'm not keeping you from leaving.” His smirk was sleazy, green eyes half-lidded as he pulled away just far enough to get a proper look at you. “If you think it's too risky, better get back to work before anyone notices you're missing, doll. I'll just get myself off.”

You whined in response. “You're unnecessarily cruel.”

“And you're indecisive. That's worse.” With those words, Ranpo pulled his leg back to push down his trousers, carelessly letting them pool around his knees as he grabbed his dick in one hand, a tiny moan falling from his lips. “So? What will it be? Brave enough to take some risks?”

It was getting increasingly difficult to still focus on what he was saying, you noted in the back of your mind. Instead, your attention was all but drawn to the way his cock twitched in his own palm when he rubbed over the flushed head of it, smearing thin precum around, and you were unable to stop yourself from squeezing your thighs together with sudden need.

“Ranpo”, you said, his name lingering between you, thick and tension-filled, and you honestly had no idea what you had been planning to say.

Eventually, as Ranpo raised an eyebrow in anticipation, you managed to choke a plea out, though you weren't sure what exactly you were asking for.

For more or for less, or for him to finally stop jerking himself off, because the sight was seriously driving you mad; the urge to sink down to your knees and suck him off was overwhelming, and yet your cunt was all but dripping with arousal, your own wetness sticking to your inner thighs.

You seriously didn't think you'd be able to handle it if he were to tease you right now.

There were going to be numerous opportunities to let him fuck your mouth in the future. Preferably when you weren't in semi-public.

“Made a decision?” Ranpo eventually quipped, still working himself, and the way he was all but thrusting into his own fist, yet sounded entirely unaffected, made you clench around nothing.

God.

You hesitated for just a moment, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth and watching with some satisfaction as Ranpo's gaze dropped down to your mouth. “Fuck me”, you said, then adding; “Please, just be quick about it.”

Ranpo smirked, wide and all teeth. “With pleasure, darling.”

A second later, you were being turned around, your cheek pushed against the shelf. Despite the position being anything but comfortable, you didn't protest when he flipped your skirt up, greedy hands going straight for your thighs, kneading soft skin through the thin fabric of your tights, only for them to rip a few moments later under his nails.

Your breathing stuttered in your chest as your legs were spread wide apart, your panties pushed down, and the fat head of Ranpo's dick nudged against your cunt. “You're absolutely terrible. I hope you'll get me a new pair.”

“You look prettier without them anyway.” Ranpo merely shrugged, unbothered, and just as you were about to say that this didn't get rid of the actual problem, it being the terribly obvious hole right over your crotch, he pushed into you with one smooth thrust.

The sudden stretch caused you to gasp, your back arching as you scrambled for purchase, finding nothing but a few old documents and the shelf's edge to hold onto.

“You could've at least prepared me.” Your voice was trembling. Luckily, Ranpo at least gave you a few seconds to adjust to his size before he pulled out of you, only to thrust back in, his narrow hips slapping against your plush ass.

“Thought you wanted me to be quick about it.” His smirk was audible in his voice. “Besides, you're wet enough to take me either way.”

You weren't able to do much more than whimper in response. At a particularly sharp thrust, your knees buckled underneath your own weight and a high-pitched cry, terrifyingly loud, left your mouth.

Ranpo whistled. “Seems like you really want to be caught”, he commented, the teasing tone to his voice mean; one hand of his rested on your hip as his pace increased, his thrusts deep enough to make you moan again and again, even as you shook your head almost feverishly.

“No? Are you sure? If you wouldn't want that, you'd at least try to keep quiet, but I don't see you biting down on your lip or even just holding your hand in front of your mouth.”

The words earned another whimper from you; this time, you felt oddly caught, like you had been trying to draw attention to you on purpose, though that couldn't have been farther away from the truth.

“I bet you'd just love it if someone were to see you like this, spread open on my dick. Our lovely secretary, always ready to help us detectives out, even if it's just by spreading her pretty legs.” A quiet laugh as you clenched instinctively around him; a reaction based on humiliation not guilt, you were sure. “See? I knew it.”

You were panting by now, your eyelids drooping and whole body shaking. It was terribly obvious that Ranpo's grip on your hip was the only thing still keeping you standing as he ground his hips against yours with slow and deep thrusts that had you tightening, wet walls pulsing.

Your mewls turned more needy the closer you got, impatience obvious in your whiny tone, and just as you were sure you were about to come did Ranpo stop moving at once.

An unhappy noise left your mouth, but before you were able to complain, two lithe fingers pushed past your lips, effectively gagging you.

Moments later, you finally realised why Ranpo had stopped his merciless pace — there were steps, light and irregular, approaching the exact storage room you were currently hiding in.

There was no lock on the door.

You tensed, clenching around Ranpo's dick without meaning to; the action earned you a barely stifled grunt.

“Guess your kink about getting caught is going to become reality”, he said, his raspy voice right next to your ear. “Hope it's not the President.”

Just as you were about to tell him to shut up, the steadily growing louder noise of dress shoes against tiles stopped.

Then, sunlight from outside flooded your sight and your breath caught in your throat as someone stepped into the tiny room, immediately closing the door again.

Your eyes widened as they met dark brown ones.

“My, my; now would you look at that?” Dazai's teasing tone made your blood run cold; ice water coursing through your veins as the terrifying reality of the situation sunk in. “Someone's avoiding work, it seems. How terribly naughty of you both.”

Ranpo scoffed. “And what are you doing in here? Definitely not working, it appears.”

God, he was still inside of you, his dick hard and hot and so close to nudging against your g-spot, and yet his voice sounded entirely unaffected.

That shouldn't have been quite this hot.

“Ah, you caught me. Clever as always, Ranpo.” Dazai's smile was cheeky. “I'm hiding from Kunikida. I'm sure he'll cave and do my paperwork if I'm not around.”

“Seems we both need this room then.”

“Yes, it seems so.”

Suddenly, Ranpo thrust into you, his hips slapping against your plush ass, and you all but keened at the sudden stimulation.

A mere second later, however, you found yourself to be nothing but terrified.

“Ranpo”, you choked out, horrified and with wide eyes, though you clenched around his dick on pure instinct; “God, Ranpo, stop, we can't—”

Your face was tingling with heat and embarrassment, and your sudden humiliation only worsened when he didn't stop; instead, he picked up his previous rhythm again, slow deep thrusts that had you whimpering and whining.

“Why should I?” You were able to all but feel Ranpo's lips curl into a smirk against your throat. “You're enjoying yourself quite a lot. I don't see a reason to stop, darl.”

A choked out noise left your lips. “But Dazai—”

“Saying another man's name while it's Ranpo fucking you?” Dazai suddenly quipped, his eyes alight with amusement. “That's rather impolite, bella. I'm just saying, but I'd be quite upset if I were him.”

As if to prove a point, two of Ranpo's fingers, still wet with your saliva, squeezed your pebbled nipple, meanly enough to make you shriek.

Tears welled up in your eyes, embarrassment blooming hot and heavy in your chest. “Ranpo, but he's—”

Dazai smirked, wide and feral. “Please, don't stop on my account.”

Ranpo huffed out a laugh, his breath warm against your neck. “See? He doesn't mind”, he said, and that was that.

Moments later, he reached down with one hand, lithe fingers circling around your throbbing clit, and you whimpered as your knees buckled, your head spinning. Your chest was heaving with each sharp inhale you took, your nipples rubbing against the fabric of your blouse, and you briefly wondered that you were still able to stand with how weak you felt.

At once, you noticed the wet clicking noise distinct in the room, not quite matching the rhythm of Ranpo's movements. It took you a while to figure out that it came out of Dazai's direction.

You regretted looking up the moment your eyes met his.

Dazai had sat down on the edge of a cupboard, leaning back leisurely, and one hand of his was steadily jerking his own dick off, his thumb swiping over the fat head of his cock. Precum dribbled down the girth of it while he held your gaze, entirely unashamed; smug, if anything.

The sight tore an unexpected moan from you, your walls pulsing around Ranpo's dick, and Dazai's smile widened.

“Someone's naughty”, he cooed, voice all but dripping with mirth as he tilted his head to the side, the motion oddly feline. A cat that had already caught the canary. “Do you enjoy watching me get myself off? My, that's so lewd, love.”

You merely whimpered in response while pointedly turning your head away again — or at least trying to do so. The second you hid your face in the crook of your elbow, Ranpo's hand fisted in your hair, grabbing a good chunk of it to keep you from doing so, and the sudden blur of pain and pleasure pushed you over the edge.

You came with a high-pitched moan, and it didn't take much more than a few thrusts until Ranpo spilled inside of you, liquid warmth filling you up as a whine left his mouth.

"You look terribly adorable like this, darling”, Dazai crooned, his tone patronising, and you pressed your lips together tightly to avoid making any humiliating noises as Ranpo pulled out, your loose cunt immediately clenching around nothing.

Not that the situation was able to get even worse.

Dazai eventually reached his own orgasm with an undoubtedly exaggerated moan, though you weren't about to call him out for the deliberate way his head fell back, exposing his throat, as he thrust into his hand; not when the picture was one for the Gods.

Eventually, when your breathing had calmed down, you huffed, your eyes narrowed. Despite the way you glared at them both, you doubted you looked all that intimidating right now. Ranpo's cum was still dripping down your thigh. “I'm starting to think you both planned this.” Your voice trembled.

Dazai glanced at you. “And why would we do that?”

“Like I know.” The second you took a step forward, planning to leave the storage closet quickly and rush to the bathroom, your legs gave out. It was only thanks to Ranpo's sudden grip on your hip that you didn't fall, and before you knew it, he pushed you down onto Dazai's lap, green eyes sparkling with amusement. “But I know you did.”

“You're being paranoid, bella.” His grin told you you were being anything but. Not that you got any opportunity to respond; moments later, long fingers pushed into your mouth, sticky with cum. “Be good and clean that up for me, will you?”

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ᯓ TWT P ༘ RN LINKS! ft: blue lock, jujutsu kaisen, my hero academia, attack on titan, tokyo revengers.

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𝜗𝜚 he likes to eat his girl while fingering her, a hungry boy…

𝜗𝜚 he has no idea how big he is

𝜗𝜚 all he wants is to give pleasure to his lover, so sweet

𝜗𝜚 he loves your titties <3

𝜗𝜚 he will let you use him

NAGI seishiro, reo mikage, bachira meguru, CHOSO kamo, yuji itadori, yuta okkotsu, inumaki toge, SHOTO todoroki, tamaki amajiki, midoriya izuku, ARMIN arlert, connie springer, CHIFUYU matsuno, kazutora hanemiya, takemichi hanagaki + your favs.

𝜗𝜚 you and your damn skirts will one day hurt your ability to walk.

𝜗𝜚 he had a bad day, so…

𝜗𝜚 “i’ll just take care of you, okay?”

𝜗𝜚 he loves the way your hips collide with his cock

𝜗𝜚 sometimes he just focuses on you and your adorable lips

ISAGI yoichi, chigiri hyoma, kunigami rensuke, SUGURU geto, megumi fushiguro, nanami kento, takuma ino, AIZAWA shouta, denki kaminari, kirishima eijiro, LEVI ackerman, reiner braun, porco galliard, MANJIRO sano, shinichiro sano, mitsuya takashi + your favs.

𝜗𝜚 he promised to be more gentle this time, lying bastard!

𝜗𝜚 he can make you cum in seconds <3

𝜗𝜚 will you be a “good girl” ?

𝜗𝜚 “are you going to be a shy girl and hide your little noises from me, hmm?”

𝜗𝜚 he is a total eater, trust me.

SAE itoshi, rin itoshi, shido ryusei, eita otoya, TOJI zenin, ryomen sukuna, gojo satoru, BAKUGOU katsuki, touya todoroki, keigo takami, EREN yeager, jean kirstein, IZANA kurokawa, baji keisuke, haruchiyo sanzu, ken ryuguji + your favs.

© itoshhi 2025 {do not copy, translate, steal, modify without permission.}

Dazai ☝️

don’t look at me with them slutty brown eyes ill get nervous 😟

— 𝖘𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖘 + 𝖉𝖆𝖟𝖆𝖎 ₊˚⊹

pairing: osamu dazai (bungou stray dogs) x fem!reader

content warning(s): non-descriptive illness, kisses, cuddling, osamu dazai is a softie, tooth-rotting fluff, sickness care, ailment treatments, pet names (love, belladonna, baby)

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“Osamu?”

You had awoken in quite a predicament. Swaddled in a clump of blankets with a cool washcloth pressed to your forehead, bubbling cups of tea and soup spinning steam into the air.

However, you partially clued in on the situation when you felt your head pounding. Your throat felt raw as a cough encroached on your breath, your skin was inflamed as sweat gathered by your temples, and your muscles ached as you attempted to stretch your arms. You were sick.

The smirking man before you was how you clued into the next part of your predicament.

“Yes, my love?”

You had no idea how long you had been swaddled up on the living room couch, but knowing Dazai, he had clued in on your sickness hours before you did. A perked brow was your sole response to him.

“Isn’t it obvious? You’re sick.” He snuggled into your side, a lopsided grin on his face as he pressed kiss after kiss onto your skin with a coo. “My poor sweet baby.”

“You seem a bit too enthused about this entire thing.”

“Me?” he gasped. “I can’t believe you would accuse me of such a thing!”

He quieted his voice as you winced. “But who wouldn’t be?” he teased, sweet nothing whispered into your ears as he ran his nimble fingers through your hair, massaging them into your temples. “I have an excuse to miss work and spoil my sweet belladonna. Sign me up.”

“Did you somehow get me sick?” you deadpanned.

“No, I wouldn’t,” he whined, digging further into the blankets until he was snuggled up with you, bracing your body against his chest as he lazily burrowed into your neck.

“Mhm,” you hummed, pressing a kiss to his hands. “Watch out. You could get sick.”

“You’re saying that,” he smirked. “But you’re doing nothing to get away.”

“I’m sick, and you’re warm. Sue me.” You leaned into him as you toyed with his bandaged fingers.

He trailed kisses across your neck, his cool skin drawing a soft groan from your lips. “And that means I’ll have extra time to spend with my baby because she’s so sweet, and I know she’ll take of me.”

“Mm, I’ll consider it,” you mumbled, eyes heavy.

He gasped, much to your tired amusement, as tiny giggles escaped your lips between a cough. His arms were hot as they squeezed around your waist, and before long, you found yourself nuzzled into his chest on the cusp of sleep. His fingers traced your features as your eyes fluttered closed, a kiss pressed against your forehead.

“Sweet dreams, my love.”

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