Ruined My Sheets | Hawks X Reader

I randomly found this is my camera roll- i forgot i made it😭😭

trans bakugo katsuki?

my boys

Reward for Seds for donating to Bnha for gaza ! "quirkless deku runs a super popular PH GEMG Dynamight fan account and he finally was able to get a ticket for a meet and greet… he doesn't expect katsuki to remember him from when they were kids… or to be aware of his fan account"

'Cause I am a superwoman. Yes I am.

🩷=fluff ; 🧡=comfort ; ❤️‍🔥=smut ; ❤=angst ; 🖤=death ; 🤍 =dark topics tw!

Pinky (Mina Ashido)

Coming soon...

Froppy (Tsuyu Asui)

Coming soon...

Creati (Momo Yaoyorozu)

Coming soon...

Uravity (Ochako Uraraka)

Coming soon...

Earphone Jack (Kyoka Jirou)

Coming soon...

Invisible Girl (Toru Hagakure)

Coming soon...

DES says . . . “tenya iida has fans” i scream as they lock me away in arkham asylum

tenya iida photodump ft. fugglerversary (👓) & baby-talk (👓)

© vampdes . do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

a/n. it's been a hot minute, y'all. this is inspired by a reel i saw on instagram (@dagirlythang), although i believe this is one of those notorious accounts that reposts content from other creators without proper citation :\ still, credit is due where it's (partially) due. anywho, i haven't written in a WHILE, but i hope this still scratches the itch for some of you. enjoy! (0.6k)

“here, kats.”

from where he’s just put the car in park, bakugou looks at you—first, instinctively—then carefully, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion at the sight of what you’re holding.

his normally crimson eyes that are seeming darker under the dim light of his brand new porsche dart up to meet yours. “the fuck is that?”

you frown at his unexpectedly hostile reaction, although it’s quick to morph into a look of realization when it hits you belatedly.

“shit, sorry,” you half-laugh, half-sputter, hurriedly returning it to your bag before reaching into its depths for your phone. you thumb in your password in almost less than a second, gaze trained on the app as you click it, “i forgot you preferred cashless transactions.”

you’re in the middle of typing in bakugou’s phone number—you’re embarrassed to admit you already have it memorized just two weeks into dating him—when your device is unceremoniously yanked out of your grip—so fast that you could barely squeak in surprise. you whip to face the pro-hero—about to reprimand his ear off for ripping it away from your hands like that—when you catch a glimpse of his features and all the words suddenly die in your throat.

uh oh.

“tell me,” he starts, voice low, and you find yourself gulping despite yourself. “did i buy this car so i can quit hero work and be a driver?”

“…no?”

a scowl. “then why are you treating me like i’m you’re fucking uber?”

you blanch. “i’m not! i just figured i give you some gas money.”

“why the fuck would you send me gas money?”

you know better than to answer that, so you shake your head and ignore the way he’s practically glowering at you, before pulling out the wad of cash from earlier, “is this much okay—”

“you ain’t sending me shit,” bakugou essentially spits—cutting you off—just as he reaches over the console and thrusts your hand back into your wallet.

he’s still gripping onto your phone.

you toss him an exasperated expression.

that earns you an eye roll. “don’t.”

you pout. “why won’t you let me help?”

“this isn’t about help, dumbass,” bakugou drawls, mirroring your irritation. “i won’t be caught dead asking my girlfriend for money.”

you try to breeze past the way he just referred to you as his girlfriend, masking your fluster with a scoff. “so it’s a pride thing now?”

the ash-blonde sneers. “more like the bare fucking minimum.”

to that, you snort, although you can’t fight the smile that tugs at your lips. “easy for you to say, rich guy.”

“watch it,” he warns, and you break into a laugh, then laugh harder when his mouth wobbles in a sorry attempt to keep a stern face.

that grants you a playful punch to the shoulder, which you take in stride, still chuckling. soon enough, the air falls into a quiet lull with neither of you making a move to get out and into your apartment’s parking lot. this goes on for a few beats, before bakugou finally breaks the silence.

“p-promise me.”

bewildered, you glance at the pro-hero, who’s looking straight ahead onto the wall beyond the car. “promise you what?”

he swallows, as if nervous. “that you’ll get used to this.”

your eyes widen, suddenly speechless. the urge to ask him what he means by ‘this’ quickly surfaces—something tells you it’s more than just him spending on you—albeit dies down just as swiftly. the last thing you want is to ruin the moment.

instead, you settle with peering at him curiously for another minute, before: “…do i have a choice?”

at that, bakugou turns to you, grinning. “nah.”

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @touyas-moon @napbatata @k0z3me @h0ngh0ngh0ng @honeyoru @yoongiwithglasses @hellokitty-doll @lilsebnem @tetsuukuroo @crangrapel0ver @syrhra @qyuin @lotusstarr

Loooong day

someone save him nooo!!!😞

Your fingers trace down the long spance of his neck. His skin is cool, bordering cold, just like the night air, and goose pimples unfurl down your arms at the feel of it. He must feel how your skins reacts; he glances down to where you've laid yourself across his lap with a fond chuckle, stroking your own face in turn. The warmth in his ruby eyes is exactly what you need.

When your fingers reach the base of his neck, there's no pulse to greet you, just a familiar stillness and two perfectly round scars, long since made but never healed. That smile flickers, the light behind it replaced by something dimmer.

"I wish you would turn me."

It's a conversation you've had before, under dim lights, bearing all earnesty and love either of you could muster. The answer is no - he will never make you immortal. It's cruel to both of you to bring up the topic again.

A myriad of microexpressions flit across his face -empathy, pain, maybe even anger- and then he's smiling again, moon white fangs bared with no malice.

"Oh, how could I ever?" He strokes your hair from your face and cups your cheeks with a practiced delight; a performance he's perfected over two hundred years, "How am I supposed to sleep without your warmth in my arms?

The words are almost a song on his voice, bouncing and free. He doubles over himself to press a chaste kiss against your forehead, then again against your lips.

"How am I supposed to close my eyes without hearing your heartbeat, my dear?" he coos into your pulse point, as if whispering to your heart itself

"One day, whether you turn me or not -" You can not bring yourself to do anything but whisper - "It won't be there."

He freezes for a moment, then brings his lips to your neck again, the kiss much more sullen this time.