Little Body Big Heart // Katsuki Bakugou

Fantasy au BKDK! I had way more fun with this than i expected so I'll probably play with the au designs more in the future

shouto likes bottoming so much he’ll make you stretch him out with two in the same hole on the weekends your both not busy so he can make the most time of it. likes how full it feels. doesn’t even ask to be fucked hard just likes grinding like that

prohero!katsuki x reader — suggestive, mdni

Walking home alone at this hour is dangerous. Reckless, stupid. You'll get swallowed up by all kinds of creeps, your boyfriend told you once.

That’s why you need a hero to take care of you when this happens.

Pro Hero Dynamight — first in the official Chart, the bastard that makes all the villains shriek and the girls scream — makes this clear as he presses up against your back, thigh peeking between your legs, mouth to the shell of your ear — all for security, of course. He slides a heated hand from your hip to the curve of your thigh, his gloves rough on skin if it weren’t for the barrier of your jeans.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doin’ out here all alone?” Dynamight rasps to your neck.

You gasp at the heat of his body towering over you, feeling a little weak in the knees. A big, strong Pro Hero cornering you like this… It’s a little scandalous. Your heart pounds for all the wrong reasons. “My— My boyfriend's working overtime. He’s a Pro, too, you see. A little too busy for me sometimes, Dynamight, sir.”

His big hand spans across your thigh, a steady weight that twitches at your formal address. It explores boldly. “A Pro, huh,” he echoes, gripping your chin to press his mouth against your jaw. “Looks like he ain’t doin’ his job to me.”

You shudder, and he follows it with a finger trailing up your spine near possessively, a dragon to his newly-found treasure. You tilt your head to meet the pierce of his red eyes, too helpless to not draw closer to the mouth that’s putting you in a trance with each filthy word. A handsome man like him, so eager to touch you... Who is to blame you, really? Your boyfriend’s left you a little needy.

“Ah, but — it’s okay.” You squirm and look up at him through your lashes. Coy and easy. “I’m used to taking care of myself. He’s busy enough.”

“He’s a jackass,” Dynamight says fiercely, half-distracted by your mouth.

You nearly break character, a little laugh slipping out. And with the way he grins, he knows what he’s doing wrong.

“Ahem. Dynamight, sir,” you return seamlessly, with the grace of a professional. Your back arches willingly as he drags you impossibly close, hip to hip. “We can’t… not like this. Someone might see.”

“Who gives a shit,” he says, then grips one whole thigh and squeezes appreciatively. “You’re already ruttin’ against me like a horndog, anyway.”

“Like a—” Incensed, you slap his chest, then hit it a few times more out of frustration. “Katsuki, gross! Stop ruining the scene, dammit.”

“What?” Katsuki’s frowns rather theatrically. The picture of innocence that doesn’t quite fit with his growing smug grin. “I didn’t ruin anything. Look, I’m still har—”

“Okay.” You exhale sharply, pushing away from him. Katsuki laughs, trying to pull you back to him, cooing. “You know what? Just skip the foreplay and take me home.”

Just so blatantly evil when they took the headphone port out of the phones to force people into getting Bluetooth earbuds like we let them do that to us and no one was jailed or murdered for it? What is wrong with us

I'm so sorry but ever since that teen Hawks page was translated on twitter I can't stop thinking about it. like. Mera treated him like a person. he was assigned to Hawks when he was already a teenager. did no one treat him like a person before then? was it such an uncommon occurrence that it seemed special when someone did? I mean, they didn't even let him have a person's name. they gave him a hero name, and to the HPSC, that was the name of a tool. of a product. they basically bought a child and treated him so coldly that Mera stood out to him because he treated him like a person. the bars of my enclosure.

Could you do another secret admirer smau with shinso or midoriya? 👀 your work is too good 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

the set up

h.shinso

-in which his friend messages you from his number and confesses- he takes the shot.

-i’ll have the izuku one up soon !!

if husband! katsuki had a dream that you served him divorce papers, he would be SO mad at you.

katsuki woke up with a start, his chest heaving as the remnants of the vivid dream clung to his mind. in the dream, you had stood in front of him, utterly calm, as you handed him his worst nightmare: divorce papers.

“it's not you, its me,” you said, your expression indifferent as if breaking his heart meant nothing. "i'm just bored, katsuki."

it wasn’t real, he knew that. but the image of you walking away from him felt too real, too painful. the words echoed in his head as he sat on the edge of the bed, his fists clenched. bored? how could you say that after everything you've been through? even though it was just a dream, it shook him to near death.

and when katsuki saw you later that morning, smiling and greeting him like usual, he couldn’t help but scowl. normally, the sight would calm him, but instead, a strange sense of betrayal bubbled up inside him. how could dream-you say something like that? and why couldn’t he shake the feeling?

“morning, katsuki,” you said cheerfully, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek.

he turned his head slightly, causing your lips to brush his jaw instead. you blinked, confused. “uh… everything okay?”

“fine,” he muttered, getting up and leaving you all alone in the bed.

all day, katsuki avoided your texts, kept his responses curt, and barely looked your way when you crossed paths at home. you quickly realized something was off but couldn’t figure out what. by evening, you had enough.

"okay, whats your problem? you've been sulking all day,” you said firmly, standing in front of him while he sat on the couch. “you’ve been acting like i killed your damn dog. what did i do?”

katsuki glared at you, his emotions finally bubbling over. “you left me! that’s what you did!”

you stared at him, completely baffled. “what are you talking about? i didn’t leave you. i’ve been here all day!”

katsuki exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “fine. i had this stupid dream, alright? you—” he hesitated, the words catching in his throat. “you divorced me. you said you were bored and just... left me.”

for a moment, there was silence as you processed what he was saying. then, to katsuki’s annoyance, you started laughing.

“you’re mad at me... because of a dream?” you asked, your laughter bubbling out uncontrollably.

“it felt real!” he barked, his cheeks flushing slightly. “you don’t get to laugh! this isn't fuckin' funny! do you know how shitty that felt?!”

“i’m sorry!” you gasped between giggles, clutching your stomach. “it’s just… do you really think i’d ever do that?”

katsuki’s scowl deepened. “its not that. its just... you said it so casually in the dream. like i didn’t even matter.”

you tried to stifle your laughter, but your amusement was clear as day. “katsuki... you’re everything to me. i would never leave you. ever. especially not because i was bored. you’re the opposite of boring. you’re the most stubborn, infuriating, incredible man I’ve ever met.”

he grunted, looking away. “tch. doesn’t change the fact that it felt real.”

you bit your lip, guilt swirling in your chest. you could see how much the dream had affected katsuki, even if it wasn’t real. determined to make it up to him, you climbed onto his lap, straddling him, and cupped his face in your hands.

“i’m sorry your brain decided to torture you like that,” you said softly before leaning in to pepper his face with kisses. “but let me remind you of how much i love you.”

your lips pressed against his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, and finally, his lips. each kiss was light and playful, drawing a reluctant smirk from him.

“sweets,” katsuki muttered, trying to keep up the tough act, but you didn’t let up.

you continued your attack, kissing down his jaw and back to his lips, murmuring between kisses. “i'm so happy you're my husband.”

katsuki finally relented, his hands settling on your hips as he let out a low chuckle. “you’re fuckin' weird.”

“and you’re grumpy,” you teased. “but i love you anyway.”

“hmph. i love you too,” he admitted, his voice softer now as his arms wrap around you, brushing your nose against his. “sorry for being an idiot today.”

“you’re not an idiot. just... talk to me about it next time, okay?”

"fine. be my fuckin' wife for forever, 'kay?"

"i promise," you cut him off with a kiss.

and katsuki kissed you back, finally letting the tension melt away, drowning himself in the taste of your and your presence. you're here. you weren't gonna leave him because he was bored. you never would.

"tch. i’m still blaming you for my bad dreams though."

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

cw: cisfem reader, sex work mention, slight blood mention

“You don’t belong here.”

The man jumps, surprised, then dissolves into a chuckle as he brings his drink to his lips. There's something familiar about this face, hidden under the swollen cheekbone and bruised fat lip, but you can't place where you know him from. You apparently marvel too long, as the stranger cheeks grow redder by the second.

“Is it really that obvious?”

“Um, yeah.” You gesture up and down him, “You’re stiff as a board and you tried to order food.”

The stranger scoffs into his drink, genuinely insulted for a moment before he dissolves back into his smile. There's no airs about him - a rare occurrence for the clientele here- and that knows you a bit off guard. "What’s wrong with ordering food?"

You ignore how the bartender shoots you a look when you slip into the seat beside your tall blonde and simply gesture to the place as if it explains itself- dim mood lighting, men in suits, women in dresses that barely cover anything. There's a woman on stage, perched on all fours and writhing ever so gracefully, arching her back as she slinks on the floor. Her quirk activates for a moment and her skin shimmers with a kaleidoscope of colors, a fairy under neon lights.

This place has the decency to call itself a gentleman's club. It has polished glasses and comfortable seats, but that doesn't change what it is. It's a strip club. Through and through. It's lacquered shine doesn't change anything underneath. It still reeks of malintent.

"What’s wrong with ordering food?" he repeats. He places his drink down and you take it before he can react, bringing it up to your lips with a playful grin. When he doesn't protest, instead just watching you with wide, wide eyes, you take a sip. It's strong enough to make your chest bloom with heat.

"I don't think they have food here."

"They do," he replies.

"Then you're going to pay six thousand yen for three bites of food." Your lipstick clings to the rim as you hand it back to him.

"Well," he sniffs, flinching at his own crinkled nose. It must be broken; there's flecks of dried blood lining his fulcrum. "Have you ever tried it?"

"Clearly not."

He takes a long chug from his drink and finished the glass. When he gestures for another, your lipstick has smudged on to his cheek. "Maybe it's worth the money then."

You laugh, and it's not your normal practiced giggle. It's real and loud enough that the bartender shoots you another look. He knows what you're supposed to be doing here, and it's not hanging with the slummiest man in the room. When you meet his eye, there's a bit of a silent conversation between you two.

I know, you try to tell him, Let me have my fun.

"What are you doing here?" You turn back to your current play thing. The man shrinks slightly, a sheepish smile creeping back onto his face.

"Long night," the stranger mumbles, "Needed a drink and, well-"

He looks towards the stage, where a mouse eared girl spins on her pole, dark braids the only thing covering her tits. She's short and thick in the places that make you look longer than you should

"Some pretty things to look at?" You finish for him.

He tears his eyes away and back to you. You don't miss how they flicker down, how they soften when you scooch closer.

"Does that make me a bad person?"

"I think it makes you a guy," you shrug. One of the better guys, in fact. The unashamed ones get grabby and mean; this one talks to you like he considers you a person.

"What's your name?" he asks suddenly. You debate giving him your real one for a second, but then you adjust your legs and feel the bite of your stiletto straps on your ankles.

"Star."

"I'm Taishiro."

You regard him again, soaking in all the little details about him. He's tall- insanely so. There's a fair amount of muscle on his frame and you think maybe, under those bruises, he's pretty.

"You a boxer, Tai?"

"Y-yeah. Yeah, I am," he hesitates, "How'd you know?"

"Well, your nose is broken, so you definitely fight, but you aren't a hero," you gesture to his clothes. Oversized sweatpants, and a loose long sleeve - he looks like someone that's cut weight lately. "I know all the heroes in the area, and you aren't one of them. I would have remembered your pretty face."

The stranger draws back a bit, brow scrunched with confusion, but a smile creeping across his face. He must not get compliments much. You slyly check his finger for a ring and find it empty. Good, but that doesn't mean anything. Lots of men take off their rings.

"And you aren't a bad guy or a villain. You don't have that scent to you."

He also doesn't smell like anyone else. If he slept next to someone, there'd be lingerings of them.

"Villains have a smell now?"

"To me, they do." You nap the side of your nose, "It's a quirk thing."

Your quirk sounds more useful than it is. There's a scent to bad intentions, something that lingers

He rolls his head to his shoulder and finally relaxes fully. "You can sniff out crime? Full on McGruff the Crime Dog?"

You mirror him. Ear to your shoulder, a slight grin tugged onto your lips, you say: "A dog? Are you calling me a bitch?"

The stranger blanches. His hand flies to his face so quickly that you're worried he's going to hit himself.

"Oh, geez, I didn't-"

You lean forward with a tinkle of laughter and pat his thigh. The muscle is tight and corded through the thick fabric. Messing with him is easy. Too easy. You almost feel bad for riling him up. "I'm teasing. I'm like a bloodhound."

"How does it work?" Taishiro asks, "What do I smell like?"

He smells like home cooking, with spices and herbs you can't quite place. It's homey, it's warm, it's familiar in ways you can't quite place. There's an edge in there you can't quite place, not quite sour or sweet, but just off enough that you know he's not being 100% truthful with you. You suspect his name isn't what he says, or his boxing career isn't exactly that.

You can't judge. Your name clearly isn't Star.

But, then again, he moves so earnestly that you have a hard time assuming he's bad in anyway, especially next to some of these men. One of them, an older man you unfortunately recognize, keeps looking at you. His smell is sweet in the same way rot is.

"It's a secret," you reply, "Just keep on behaving and you won't have to worry about it."

He laughs at that, big and booming enough that a couple of the girl walking around look your way, and you can't help but join it. You think, if you had met him anywhere else, if you were someone else, you'd pursue this further, let something develop between you.

But you aren't anyone else.

"Can I buy you a drink?" he asks, suddenly, and you suddenly are hit with the guilt of reality.

"I gotta be honest with you." You peel your hand from his thigh. "I don't come to strip bars for the tits, baby."

"Do- do you work here?"

"Men buy my time." He stares at you blankly and you sigh. "My companionship for the evening. And my boss is going to get mad if I don't start schmoozing paying customers."

Taishiro furrows his brow, then widens his eyes as the realization hits him.

"Oh. Oh." He swallows and nods, clearly thinking this through. Just as you start to get up, he reaches for you, wide, wide, wide hand on your hip to keep you in place. "How much?"

Something inside you sinks. You should have expected this. "I didn't think you were interested in that."

"I'm not-- I mean, I am, but not like- well-" He staggers through his thoughts, "I just want to keep talking. Really. Maybe even split my food, if you want, but I don't- not that kind of companionship- just, like, normal companion stuff."

You sniff. He still smells the the truth, for the most part. You're not sure if you pity him.

"Two hundred thousand yen for the night," you say. "Ends at sun up- no exceptions."

"Oh," he perks up, head tilted like a puppy again, "That's it?"

"What does that mean?"

"I thought it was going to be--" he pauses and shakes his head, thinking better of it, "Yeah, that's okay."

"Do you think I'm cheap?" you gape.

"No, I just--" he laughs again, clearly embarrassed. "You just look really, really, really expensive?"

Despite yourself, with a roll of your eyes, you smile too. "Nice save."

He mum les to himself, rubbing the back of his neck. Most of your clients are experienced with this life, but the new ones are always like him. Nervous. Scared. You step closer to him, trailing your fingers down his arm. You both watch your manicured nails trace loose patterns.

"You really want to spend that kind of money to just have dinner with me?"

You'd fuck him. Of course you would. You expect him to crumble under the flirtations, just like the others did.

But he surprises you when he nods.

"Yeah, I am," Taishiro says, "Is that okay?"

You shrug. "It's your night. Anything you want is okay."

The hand on your waist squeezes tighter, but it's not sexual. It's comforting, almost normal.

"I guess I'll..." he says awkwardly, "Get cash?"

"Cash is good."

-

Taishiro knows this is a bad idea.

A horrible, awful, terrible idea.

Using his real name was stupid; he's lucky you incorrectly guessed his career. If he wasn't so thin right now, you might have recognized him. He'll if he's not careful, you could figure him out anyway.

If the media gets word of this, his career would be ruined. His poor interns would never meet his eye again. The headlines flash in his mind: FATGUM CAUGHT WITH PROSTITUTE. OR ESCORT. WHAT'S THE DIFFERENCE?

Well, he's sure they'd be more creative than that.

He shakes it out of his head. This isn't about sex. He's just... lonely. So, unbearably lonely. It's just a dinner, just something to stop him from going hone and wallowing by himself again. Sure, you're the prettiest thing that's ever talked to him-

He shakes that out of his head too.

Denki smau he works at your favorite small pizza place and he specifically switches with waiters whenever you come in to shamelessly flirt with you! He finally asks for your number

pizza dates

d.kaminari

-in which he works at your local pizza place, and your his favourite customer.

“writing every day” otherwise known as waking up on day one, writing, deleting writing from the previous day on day two, and rinse and repeat forever