Adding Fuel To The Epic X Mha Agenda

sighhh 🚬

i see you and ur daddy issues

i got 88% with nanami too but i was too ashamed to further showcase my daddy issues 🫣

need ghostface!touya to violently stab me actually

bluelock bakugou talking abt being the symbol of peace waow (-> i say as they drag me back to my padded cell)

blue lock bakugo is so real!!!! (not his personality tho) i’ve said it before but him and the other shark teeth guy (raichi) are BOTH krbk’s love children only kuni got all the good and raichi got all the bad 🙂‍↕️

ALSO i forgot he said that that is so perfect!!!! him wanting to be a hero is so special to me 🙂‍↕️🤭

Chapter 03.

♡ twenty three

♡ rivals to lovers / fake dating

♡ cw / tw : sort of angst at the end? moment of panic attack though it's minor

You pressed the doorbell and stepped back with a pleasant hum. “I don’t know why you bother ringing that shit. I always barge in whenever I have to fucking come here.” Bakugo grumbled as you both stood in front of the door to his mother’s studio. 

You looked back at him and scoffed. “That would be the nice thing to do Bakugo. You wouldn’t know.”

“Being nice is for pussies.”

“And here comes the attitude.” You mumbled under your breath.

Bakugo whipped his head around and glared at you, “Do you really wanna go? We can go right here right fucking now don’t test me-”

The front door swung open and a middle aged blond woman stepped out, offering you a soft smile, “Oh so you must be my son’s partner please please! Do come in! He never stops talking about you my dear- oh and shoes at the doorstep darling, are you hungry? Thirsty? Anything my son can get for you? Katsuki! Be a good boyfriend and help your partner out!” Mitsuki Bakugo shouted as she pushed the door open wider, ushering both of you inside her studio.

“God fucking damnit you hag! Shut the actual fuck up! You know we’re not actually dating! And they can handle themselves! I don’t gotta do shit for them!” Bakugo shouted at his mother as he tugged off his shoes.

“Bakugo!” You whipped your head around and glared at him, eyes narrowed into slits. “Watch your fucking language when you speak to your fucking mother goddamn it! I’m not risking losing an opportunity like this all because you couldn’t keep your fucking mouth shut you dumb piece of shit!” You hissed back at him.

Bakugo stared at you.

Mitsuki smiled.

Bakugo grumbled as you stepped into the studio, the tips of his ears flushing a soft red as his mother nudged him and grinned. He rolled his eyes and followed behind you, crossing his arms across his chest and looking around.

The studio was unfortunately - or maybe it was fortunately - the same as he remembered it when he was younger; and throughout all the different parts of his life. 

His mother’s desk was placed in the same shitty corner, and those creepy looking mannequins were still standing in every corner that they could possibly be placed without being knocked over - each one was covered in some sort of fabric, some of the outfits were finished, some were still a mess of stitching and needle work. 

There were things on the floor, scraps of fabric and tape measures and the whole place smelted of baked goods, like the oven had just been turned off and if he squinted - he could see a small Katsuki and Izuku, reaching for the caramel and chocolate chip cookies behind Mitsuki’s back - before two simultaneous wails would break her out of her thought. She would have to end up putting her needle down and pulling her glasses off her face before tending to the two boys, one whom she scolded and the other whom she carefully doted over.

That particular memory brought a small smile to Bakugo’s face.

He looked around more before his eyes met a small area in the back of the studio which he had dubbed “The hero’s corner” as a child. 

When he was younger he would sit on the floor and play with his action figures. When he started school the toys were replaced with notebooks and pens. He remembered one instance, during first year of highschool, where he was perched in his chair, furiously scribbling in his journal, (He was much too prideful to call it a diary) about you. Pages upon pages wasted as he ranted about how much he hated you. 

The strangest part? 

He had a nagging feeling that he really didn’t hate you-

Nope. Not going down that train of thought today. Thanks a lot Eijirou for putting that idea in my head in the first place. I hope you’re hit by a fucking train shitty hair.

“Katsuki are you even listening!” Mitsuki shouted at Bakugo who snapped back to reality, whipping his head back around and glaring at his mother.

“Shut up you hag! I don’t even know why the fuck I’m here! You already have all of my fucking measurements from when I was fucking born why do I gotta be here for?” He snapped back, fists clenched. Every moment he spent with you in his general vicinity was fucking torture and he felt like he was drowning. The smell of your perfume or shampoo or whatever the fuck you were wearing that he was smelling was slowly killing him here. 

"Y'know what fuck it I'm stepping outside for some air. It smells like shit in here. Open a window or something." Bakugo sighed, shaking his head as he stepped outside, sitting on the stairs.

He ran a hand through his ashy blond hair.

“Fucking shit Shitty Hair.” He hissed under his breath.

-

"This is going to suck so much ass." You sighed.

"Yep."

"Why do I gotta do this shit with you?"

"I'd be damned if I knew." Bakugo mumbled.

Your outfit was stunning and damn, did you feel stunning. Mitsuki really outdid herself when it came to the outfit. It was such a shame that it had to be used on Bakugo of all people. You nervously wiped your hands down your outfit, you had been to a few of these gala’s in the past - hero work tended to come with a lot more rubbing shoulders then you had been led to expect. “How long do we have to be doing this?” You whispered, turning to meet Bakugo’s stern gaze as he stared straight ahead. He clenched his jaw and shrugged. 

“Until the press gets what they want I guess.” He mumbled. He didn’t know how long it would take for them to get here - or when they would leave. When they drain us of our blood. For fuck’s sake. I don’t want to be here. I’d rather be at home right now. Or at the gym. Or god knows where.

Bakugo clenched his jaw, his hands gripping the steering wheel as he forced himself to stare straight ahead. It was suffocating being in here. He thought the studio was bad? His sports car was a million times worse.

You were so fucking close. If he turned his head just a little bit to the side he would be able to point out and count each individual blemish on your face. 

The car reeked of whatever you were wearing. 

Again, not in a bad way. But shit - Bakugo was drowning.

Like he had been caught up in a rip and he was trying so fucking hard to swim to the sides - to safety but you were there and you were smiling at him, looking at him with those eyes and you grabbed him by the leg and forced his head under.

The worst part was that he knew it was going to get worse for him.

And it was all Kirishima’s fault. He was the one that planted this stupid idea in his head in the first place - if he had kept his big mouth shut Bakugo wouldn’t be here worrying about mending a broken relationship.

Shit.

You were going to be the death of him.

He sighed as the sleek sports car pulled up the venue. “Let me get the door for you.” Bakugo mumbled.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. “What a gentleman.” You muttered under your breath as your ‘date’ stepped outside and pulled the door open for you. He reached for your hand but you slapped it away, throwing a glare at him.

“Don’t. I can handle myself.” You hissed under your breath.

Bakugo scoffed and pulled away, rolling his eyes as he leaned back in. “Did you forget? We gotta put on a show for these blood hungry demons society calls paparazzi. I don’t wanna be doing this shit either but it’s not like we have a fucking choice anyways. So pull that fucking stick out of your ass and take my fucking hand.”

You sighed defeatedly and debated your options, mulling a few thoughts in your head before you reached for Bakugo’s hand, holding your piercing glare as he intertwined his fingers with your own. He met your eyes and a silent understanding sparked between you both.

An hour. Tops. In and out. Give the press what they want so they can bump up our image. And then get the fuck out of there.

“Glad to see we agree on something…” Bakugo mumbled under his breath as he led you up the stairs, the flash of the cameras blinding him. A deep scowl etched into his face as he huffed.

You nudged him softly, meeting his gaze. “Smile.” You whispered as you both stepped up against the doors. “And stop stepping on my shoe.” You hissed. 

Bakugo rolled his eyes. 

You both smiled as the cameras flashed away, draining you of your essence. Of what made you both - fundamentally - you.

By the end of the night you would be a piece of gossip. An image on the newspapers. The name rolled off the tongue of a jealous fan. The name whispered in adoration of an obsessive stalker. A name.

A title.

Bakugo’s eyes flickered to your face for a moment before his arm snaked around your waist and gave you a soft squeeze. I’m here for you.

“Are you good?” Bakugo whispered as he led you inside. “You looked kinda out of it.” 

“I hate the paparazzi.” You mumbled as he led you up the stairs. 

“Yeah well. You don’t gotta worry about em too much in here.” He shrugged, letting his arm drop when the flashing lights were out of view. “Chill out with your friends, do whatever I dunno. I’ll text you at eleven to pick you up and go home. Alright?” Bakugo gave you a one over, eyes flickering from your face down to your body and then back up to your face.

The stare made you slightly self conscious. 

Don’t look at me like that. 

You huffed, raising your arms to your chest, nodding as you averted your gaze.

Bakugo stared at you, a small frown tugging at his lips. “Right uh.. Be safe I guess.” He mumbled.

You nodded. “Yea… uh you too?”

-

“You’re out here? Shouldn’t you be inside?” Bakugo’s voice came out as gruff as he stepped out onto the balcony. You didn’t bother turning around as he moved to stand beside you. You took in a deep inhale of the fresh night air.

It was biting against your arms.

“Yea… I got tired of being there. My social battery is a little low today so y'know? I just needed the space.” You mumbled, not bothered to explain your reasons for staying outside to the likes of Bakugo.

He merely nodded as he wordlessly stared up at the sky. “Can I ask you something?” 

“You already did.”

“Something else idiot.”

You snorted, covering it up with a cough. “Yea go ahead.” 

“You hate me.”

It wasn’t a question. It was an observation. 

You hated Bakugo. 

You hated his ego. 

You hated his pride. 

You hated the way he made you feel like a pebble in his path to success. 

You hated his anger. 

You hated the way he had changed. 

You hated how he tried to remedy things. 

You hated the way his eyes sparked. 

You hated the way he spoke to you - so soft and delicate, like a flower losing its petals.

You hated him.

A chill ran up your arms, and you rubbed them softly. Did I forget my coat in the car? I got so worked up over the whole gala I forgot my coat!

You were about to curse out loud at your stupidity - but before you were able to, you were enveloped by a soft caramel scent mixed with something spicy? Cinnamon?

“You’re shivering.” Bakugo pointed out. “You left your coat in the car.”

You huffed, pulling his suit jacket closer. “Thanks…” You mumbled looking up at the sky. “Do you… like the stars?” You looked over at Bakugo who was staring up at the inky void. The light pollution was annoying, you could barely see a thing, but the small little dots that you did see would lift your spirits anyways.

Even if most of them were dead.

“I do.” He nodded. “You didn’t answer my question.” He turned to you. “Do you hate me?”

You went silent for a moment, pulling the jacket closer and looking back up. “Yea.”

“Yea. I think… I hate you.”

-> Masterlist

taglist [OPEN] : @luvseraphh - @tlissablr - @havemyheartt - @smelliottle - @sakurayashiro - @peachesvault - @qyuin - @kaidostwin - @wonubby - @moochiwoochi - @coldnightshark - @kalulakunundrum - @sexylexy12 - @rednicotine - @samm1e13 - @kawoala

© HTTPS-BAKUGO. Do not steal, copy or use any of my work for AI. Legal action will take place if caught.

Close As Strangers

synopsis; he's been gone awhile, are things really still the same? (eren jeager x fem!reader) wc; 1,630

cw; angst, open ending but implied to be happy, modern college au, based on the titular song by 5sos, allusions to cheating but no actual cheating takes place, mentions of daily medication (reader has anxiety and adhd), mentions of drugs and alcohol, armin being the goat, mikasa is not a girl's girl, eren being down bad for his girl, no dialogue

a/n; i hit shuffle on my playlist then chose a random character that i thought would fit, have this and enjoy.

six weeks since i’ve been away,

and now you’re saying everything has changed.

and i’m afraid that i might be losing you.

eren left to study abroad six weeks ago, and while that isn’t long, things between you two already feel different. he answers your calls and texts less than usual, and you know that timezones exist, but the difference is only a few hours.

armin and marco try to comfort and assure you that there’s nothing to worry about, that eren’s just busy with the classes and the workload. it eases your mind for at least a few hours before the anxiety is back in full force and you begin to overthink again, especially since mikasa is also responding to the group less and less.

and every night that we spend alone,

it kills me thinking of you on your own.

and i wish i was back home next to you.

he doesn’t even know why he came to this party. the room around eren is hazy, smoke filters in the air as people take hits of the different items being passed around. vapes, pens, bongs, and pipes, eren has seen at least four different joints being shared. music plays loudly throughout the place, he lost track of mikasa the moment they stepped foot into the house. something about going to get a drink was whispered against his ear, his mind too focused on you back home.

he only took this trip because his dad had insisted, something about ‘being good for the soul to travel while you’re young’. eren didn’t care, he wanted to travel with you, and yet you were so far away. he had tried to get you to come with, your parents disapproval kept you from agreeing. his heart aches as he imagines you alone in bed right now, and he wants nothing more than to be laying next to you.

oh, everyday,

you feel a little bit further away.

and i don’t know what to say.

it’s been two months now, eren texts and calls every chance he gets. ever since the night of the party he can feel you growing more and more distant. he knows it’s because of what happened at the party, mikasa got too drunk and confessed that she was in love with him. he had immediately told you about it the next morning, and while he reassured you that he loves you and swore that nothing happened, your anxiety had you wound so tight that you skipped two days of class, to stress clean the entire apartment you shared with him and armin from top to bottom.

you stopped sending him good morning and good night texts, you’d barely give him updates throughout the day too. he has to rely on armin and the others to make sure you’re taking your meds. he doesn’t know what to say to help you feel better. it’d be easier if he was with you.

are we wasting time,

talking on a broken line?

telling you i haven’t seen your face in ages,

i feel like we’re as close as strangers.

your phone calls get shorter and shorter every time, eren can’t remember the last time you facetimed him to fall asleep. he hasn’t seen your face in so long and armin, bless him, tries to send eren pictures of you, but you’ve become less and less photogenic.

the last picture armin sent eren, made his breath hitch, and not in a good way. you looked as awful as he felt, your skin wasn’t the normal shade it always was, and he could tell you weren’t sleeping well. the circles and bags under your eyes told him, and armin confirmed it. eren knew it himself though, when he saw there was no life in your eyes. normally such a vivid and prominent color, they now looked dull and lifeless. if he was being honest, you looked like a stranger to him, and he felt like it too.

won’t give up,

even though it hurts so much.

every night i’m losing you in a thousand faces,

now it feels we’re as close as strangers.

you opened up to eren about how you were feeling around the two and a half month mark. you had called him on a friday night, the first you both had free in a while. the moment he answered you broke down crying about how you missed him and wanted him home. he sat with you on the phone, listening to you cry and get it off your chest before speaking up.

he told you that he loves you and that he’s not going to give up even if the distance is hurting both of you. he promised he’d be home as soon as he could, just a little bit longer. once you had calmed down, you began talking about other things. he tells you that he meets tons of new people everyday, and that the first thing he does when meeting somebody new, is tell them about you and how you’re waiting for him back at home. not being there with him makes you feel like a stranger.

late night calls and another text,

is this as good as we’re gonna get?

another timezone taking me away from you.

it’s been four months since eren left, you call late at night, later than you should be calling. and texts are scattered throughout the day when either of you have time, being left on read or delivered more often than not. things are as good as they’re going to get since you’re both so much busier now.

it’s hard to do much of anything with eren being hours ahead of you in a different timezone, it feels like he’s being taken away from you. he’s busy with classes or an activity by the time you wake up, and sleeping before you even get home.

living dreams in fluorescent lights,

while you and i are running out of time.

but you know that i’ll always wait for you.

your twenty-first birthday had fallen on a saturday, your friends had dragged you out to a club the night before. the loud music and flashing lights provided a good distraction for your anxious mind. the alcohol jean and reiner bought, along with the weed connie brought, had calmed your nerves enough for you to have fun and let loose for a while.

the next morning you woke up to a phone call from eren, wishing you a happy birthday. you talked for a bit but, eren could tell that your time on the phone was running out before you’d have to get ready to spend the day with your family. just before you hung up, he said that he’d wait for you to come home that night so you could facetime each other. he stayed true to his word and facetimed you as soon as you texted him that you were home. you fell asleep on the phone together that night.

on the phone,

i can tell that you wanna move on.

through the tears,

i can hear that i shouldn’t have gone.

every day gets harder to stay away from you.

four and a half months since eren left, you last spoke to him two weeks ago. it was a long phone call, one that had a lot of doubts and insecurities that led into an argument. he missed you just as much, but he could tell this was hurting you. at one point he asked if you wanted to break up, the question only made you cry harder.

you didn’t want to break up, you just wanted him home, and you had told him as such. he could hear the desperation in your voice and regretted ever leaving in the first place, he knew he shouldn’t have gone. it was getting harder to stay away and not go home to you. but soon he promised, just a little longer and he’d be home.

six months since i went away,

and i know everything has changed.

but tomorrow i’ll be coming back to you.

the day marks six months since eren left, the semester has ended and you’ve grown numb to him being gone. there’s a distance between you two, things have changed and everybody in the group can tell. they’re worried what it might mean for when eren comes home, truthfully you’re scared that things will end when he gets back. you love him and don’t want to lose him.

your last phone call was a couple days ago and he told you that he’d been home soon since the semester was over, he just wasn’t exactly sure when that’d be. you’re at lunch with the girls when your phone pings with a message from eren.

1 message from;

rennie 💚🗝️

i’m coming home tomorrow.

his shared location says he’s at the airport and you don’t even realize you’re crying until historia asks what’s wrong. sasha and the others eye you cautiously, worried that something happened. you tell them what eren said and they all smile brightly. ymir rolls her eyes and calls you dramatic, annie smiles and tells you she’s glad that you’re happy again. you message him back before finishing lunch with the girls.

to;

rennie 💚🗝️

can’t wait! i love you ❤️

it had been a long six months, but your boyfriend was finally coming home to you and you couldn’t wait to see him. even if you guys felt as close as strangers right now, you knew it wouldn’t be long before things were back to normal.

from;

rennie 💚🗝️

i love you too ❤️

and if there was one thing that eren learned from this experience, it was that he would never ever leave you again.

samm1e13 ©️ don’t use, copy, or steal my works

Masterlists

all i hear are screams, every time i dare to close my eyes

🩶 mha masterlist

🩶 jjk masterlist

🩶 dc masterlist

🩶 aot masterlist

🩶 extras masterlist

i no longer dream, only nightmares of those who've died

rin but he has a total obsession for the reader's boobs

.ᐟOBSESSED

.ᐟcw: explicit content mdni

"𝐵𝑜𝑦, 𝑤ℎ𝑦 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑜 𝑜𝑏𝑠𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑚𝑒?" - 𝑜𝑏𝑠𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦 𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑎ℎ 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑦

･･ꕀ𖧷

Imagine bf!rin itoshi who’s obsessed with his girlfriend’s boobs. He loves them so much, he can’t bring himself to stay away from you. 

After a match or a long day? He’s climbing onto the bed and lying face down on your chest as your run your fingers through his silky hair. 

His face is murderous when you wear a low-cut top and he catches others staring at you. He’ll do anything to make them look away and that ends up being leaving hickies on every inch of your exposed skin

He has a favorite side. Loves laying with his cheek on your chest, fingers lazily playing with your other nipple. 

If you’re wearing a tight top? He's staring. Jaw clenched, trying not to get hard in public. Doesn’t even realize he’s zoning out on your chest until someone calls his name twice. There's a lot of instincts where he’s just zoned out on your body, not a care in the world. Sometimes you even distract him from his very precious football recaps. 

He’ll get mean if you tease him—push his head away when he’s latched on? He’ll grab your wrists and growl, “Don’t fucking move again.”. 

Since he’s always touching you one way or another, some parts of your body have become highly reactive and sensitive. One of those parts being your boobs. He loves how you try to stifle moans when his tongue circles your nipple. “So sensitive, baby, you’re body’s needy” 

He refuses to sleep unless he’s lying between them, cupping one, cheek smushed against the other one. 

He ends up saying the filthiest things when he’s in bed with you or buried between your boobs. “So soft—fuck, I could drown in you.” or “You should be walking around shirtless. For me only, though.”

Half of the time, it’s not even sexual. He just likes how soft they are. If he’s watching a game. He’ll call you over to sit on his lap while he plays with your tits and his eyes are attached to the screen, watching a rematch of the same game for the 5th time today. 

You’ll be trying to have a normal conversation and he’ll slowly slip his hand under your shirt, face buried between your boobs. “Keep talking,” he mumbles, “just need this for a sec.”

Uses your boobs as his personal pillow. You’re watching a show? Boom—head in your chest. Napping? Face down in your cleavage. Bad day? Silently lifts your shirt, lies down, and holds on like it’s the only thing grounding him.

He uses both hands to grab and squeeze, thumbs brushing your nipples until they’re puffy and aching—then he bites. Hard enough to leave marks. Tongue swirling after to soothe while he smirks.

Loves loves loves tit fucking. He’ll ask you to press them together as he slides his aching cock in between. slow, deep strokes while watching his cock glide between them. “So Warm. Fuck, you were made for this, weren’t you?”

As of right now, you’re on his lap, when you both were supposed to be watching a movie right now. 

“Rinnie, this isn’t watching a movie” you whine as rin’s thumb grazes your nipple, sliding along to brush against the curve on their underside. 

“‘M tired of the movie..” he lazily mumbles, eyes locked onto them. “This is better”

He leans in, takes one into his mouth like he’s starving. Slow, deep sucks that send heat pooling between your legs. He groans, tongue flicking your nipple as he grinds his hips up under you.

“So fuckin’ perfect,” he breathes between kisses. “You feel how hard I am just from this?”

You nod, breath hitching when he bites lightly and then soothes it with a kiss.

“Told you,” he mutters, pulling you closer. “I could spend hours right here. You were made for me.”

Taglist: @samthesimp1 @sapphireluv @s4turnx1 @nevvynev @cookiesandcreammy @rinniebinniebay @ravenbc @samm1e13 @demiitria @syleepy @chaoslibra @bontenxo @pinkymangacaps

A/n: i think i got another pretty similar req. so rather than writing both, i just wrote one for two

ꨄ︎Anglbunny | Do not copy, steal or translate my work and pngs. you'll be blocked.

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