“I didn’t shave—“
“I do not…give a fuck. Open your legs.”
You and Bakugo have this argument at least once a month. You only need to wax your little lady once a month after your period , and it’s about that time to do so but you have 2 problems;
Your appointment isn’t until 2 more days, and you have a boyfriend that has been waiting a full week to eat you out.
“‘Suki I told you I hate—-“
“Why do you give a fuck about that? It’s HAIR.”
“I FEEL DIRTY.”
“You just took an everything shower.”
Bakugo NEVER understood the point of shaving your pussy anyway. He genuinely does not care whether there is hair or not on it, and after having an irritating crave to eat your pussy he definitely couldn’t care less.
“It’s a bush.”
“I don’t—- y/n the area I wanna suck—“
“Don’t be a pervert.”
He deadpanned at you, the Blondie also never cared for how blunt he was with his dirty words. Just two weeks ago you and him were eating cereal when he just casually spoke, “When I get home tonight I wanna eat your pussy against the door like I did last night.” As he gets up to clean his bowl.
No emotion
And no care.
He’s a damn savage.
“Your clit don’t have hair on it it’s just the lips.”
“OMY fucking—“
“Please.”
You blink, “what…”
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
Bakugo groans loudly and lays his head on your shoulder. And bites it, “OW!” The main reason why Bakugo haven’t let up is because you and him established a strict safe word rule. He knows he can be pushy with things he wants but he’d never want to make you uncomfortable about it. If you GENUINELY don’t want him to all you have to say is “TNT” and he’ll drop it no questions asked. And never bring it up again.
But here you are, contemplating.
Your thoughts get broken by a soft kiss on your jaw, his scarred warm palms lifting your his shirt , playfully tapping his fingers on your clothed panties, “I heard you playing with yourself in the shower.”
You freeze, feeling his devious smirk against your cheek, his natural scent and musk clouding your mind as he keeps kissing you, rubbing on your body, “You want it as bad as I do. I fucking know you do.”
“Remember last time?”
He had your knees to your ears last time, ass hanging off the edge of the bed as he spit, licked, and sucked all inside and on your pussy. His fluffy hair tickling your inner thighs, his thumbs pressing into your skin so deep you could just barely grind against his mouth. Bakugo was always a nasty ass eater to the point you were embarrassed just watching him.
His ring and middle finger swirling circles on your clit as his tongue filled your aching tight hole, the way he stops for a moment to kiss the soft little nub , nearly making out with it making you roll your eyes because his pillowy wet lips felt soooooo good against you.
You remembered how he’d slap your ass a few times when you looked away for too long or covered your mouth, you swore he’d heat up his hands slightly just to do so.
You remembered how he’d hold your ankles up and he licked stripes against your pussy and his tongue teasing your other hole.
You remembered how he’d swished his head back and fourth while his lips captured your clit and tugged on it. Sending you over the edge while he sucked and groaned. Two fingers pumping inside you.
“You remember, huh.” His raspy voice against your ear, already teasing his fingers inside you panties, “You came so much you passed out right after.”
The more he spoke to distract you the further he got, eventually laying you down on his huge couch, to pulling off your panties, to opening you legs, to kissing each thigh, and down to repeating his exact actions from last time.
And no he did NOT care about the hair.
okay! i saw your inbox open so..🙈
also new follow! I absolutely love the way you write denki and saw that both him and sero are your faves, oh we TWINNIN'
Could you make a smau, including Sero and Denki, accidentally texting their admiration to the wrong person (the reader), leading to an accidental confession.
you can include other characters too >< no rush though, take your time!
OH SHIT, WRONG PERSON !!
PAIRINGS ... d.kaminari, h.sero, e.kirishima x fem!reader
a/n OMGGG TWINNNN tysm!!! this reminded me of the time I almost accidentally sent a meme to my boss... it wouldn't have been bad but it would've been hella embarrassing LMAO. i also want to preface i did NOT read these over so much if they’re shit, that’s why LMAO
requests are open!
d. kaminari
h.sero
e.kirishima
©juviabrainrot - please do not copy/repost any of my work on any platform <3
okay so imagine, its late. y/n laying up in bed abt to go to sleep and ex boyfriend touya (but like LONG TIME ex boyfriend like they broke up like a year ago or something) shoots them a drunk "u up?" text. obviously y/n is confused but touya tells them it was a dare from hawks and that he was at a party with him but little does y/n know, no one dared him and he was just sad and drunk and n thinking about them <3 okay thank yew satty i love you
woaaa hi ruerue, i love yeww <3 this shit was kinda fun to do ngl like i think ive missed writing. i feel like im back in my roots yk? good shit. good req boss. hope u like it!!
— parings: todoroki touya x reader
— notes: mature language & a few suggestive sentences
for your 1k event, may i perchance request a childhood bsf with benefits w bakugou
smau please 🎞️ 🙏🏽
it’s always been you.
b.katsuki
-childhood bestfriends -> fwbs -> ?
hiiii rue i love ur writing i will read anything u write! That being said, any form of Denki smau with exceptionally forward reader who makes him nervous… would be… very swag.
hes so paatheettiiccc but i also think he'd love getting his licks back like he's teeheeing and blushing and rubbing his hands together like a fly behind the screen thinking of a witty reply HEHE thank yew denki nation🫡🫡
-
mha tag: @lotuslovers @babylambdietcoke @0skullyard0 @kaldurahms-lover @commonmisery @moonstonejpg @twoplayergaymers @simp-plague @xvilluis
hi rue .. i’m kinda shy to ask this but can you please do a small drabble of the reader and touya arguing (not quite intense) & touya keeps replying with “no maam” or “yes maam” every time the reader asks questions 💔💔
🚬 oh i could kiss you rn. mhm. thank you sweet anon i stayed up at 2am writing this heh
fratboy touya get out of my heaaddddd
the puddles beneath your feet splash against your bare calves with every step.
"for fuck's sake, stop walking so fast." touya's voice calls out from behind you as you turn the corner of the street. the heavy bass of the house party you ran out of slowly drowned into nothing as the rain hit your body.
it was nearly 12am, and the downpour was only getting stronger. your fingers shook as you pathetically rubbed the sides of your arms, hoping to muster up some heat from the friction.
touya reaches out and grabs you by the shoulder, pulling you back towards him.
"you seriously mad at me? after i just poured my heart out for you?" he half-chuckles. "c'mon now sweetheart, at least reject me to my face."
"poured your heart out?" you scoff, forcibly facing him. "what kind of a fucking confession involves punching a random guy in the teeth?"
"that dumbass had it coming to him with or without the confession." he rolls his eyes.
"touya." you shake his hand off of your shoulder. "you can't go around starting fights just because you can't use your words."
"didn't i, though? made it very clear you were off limits." he shrugs, a hint of satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.
you glare at him, crossing your arms over your chest as you let a silence fall over you with the droning of the rain.
touya brings a hand up to push his soaked hair back from falling into his eyes. he blows out a breath of air in defeat.
"i'm sorry, okay? don't be upset."
you take a step forward, leaning in just mere inches from his face. touya bites back a smirk as his cheeks grow hot from the proximity.
"you will go back inside and apologize."
his eyes follow the rain droplets trailing down to your lips.
"yes ma'am."
"you will find me some dry clothes."
his gaze continues to follow down the soaked t-shirt clinging to every curve of your body.
"yes ma'am."
"you will take me home."
touya licks his lips, letting the cold water on his lips grow hot against his tongue.
"yes ma'am."
you step back, watching his eyes flicker between your eyes and lips, counting all of the droplets that slip from your chin and eyelashes.
"are you listening to me?" your face grows hot.
"mhm. yes ma'am."
"and when we get back my apartment, you're going to properly use your fucking words and tell me how you feel. okay?"
touya reaches his hand up to tuck a stray soaked strand of hair behind your ear, letting his thumb graze against the side of your jaw.
"yes ma'am." he slowly nods his head, knowing that the moment he's alone with you, he'll be using more than his words.
-
touya tags: @kaldurahms-lover @moonchild701 @themultifandomgirl @devilslittlehelper @porusuniverse @ratatellie @katbug37 @ggriwm @moonlitmorganite @bitchyfestivalbouquet @touyas-wife
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.
OKAY ELS <3 i waited until the last day for this and ik i was gonna submit izuku but ............... can i have graveyard shift coworker shigs who youre not entirely too fond of but he likes bothering you bc it gets rlly boring and quiet at nights !! smau or written whichever ya like is fineee THANK YOU
graveflower
s.tomura
-the graveyard gets quiet and lonely at night- your there to keep him company.
You don't think you've ever seen Bakugou look so scared. He stands in front of you, eyes wide chest heaving because what the fuck did you just say?
And there you are standing with a soft smile and hands gripping his. Acting as if you hadn't just said 'I love you' in the sweetest voice.
"I-"
You laugh at that eyes shooting to the ground before looking back up.
"It's alright Katsuki. I didn't say it for you to say something back."
"Then why the fuck would you say that?"
"Because I wanted you to know?"
His mouth ran dry. He wanted to say it. Why couldn't he say it? What was so scary about three fucking words.
He swallowed harshly, scarred hand gripping the back of your neck to push your foreheads together. He stayed like that for a moment before pulling back and softly kissing the spot between your eyes.
It was silent. Not a word spoken after but you knew exactly what it meant.
'I love you too.'
talk about fatgum, Mint 🎤 tell us about how he yearns. tell us what goes through his head when he’s with her
cw: sex work mentioned, reader is bruised, implied abuse
He should be more concerned about you being seen coming to his apartment, especially when you're dressed like that.
"Mmm, I'm so glad you called." You gently close the door with your hip, hands full with a large brown bag and your purse. Your dress is short enough that he's afraid to see you bend over, tight enough that he can't help but watch. "Hope you like take out because I ordered a lot."
He's starving, of course. He's always this ravenous after a big fight, but he's been holding off for you. If he gains the weight and you end up figuring out who he is... he's not sure what the consequences will be. Nothing good could come from seeing an escort, but he can't keep you away.
You stride in like you belong here, placing your things on the coffee table before flashing him a smile. Then, you frown, comically big.
"Tai, baby, you look worse than ever." You reach over to his place on the couch and pinch his cheek. The little pressure aches, but not as badly as his chest does when you sound like that. "Is your nose broken?"
It's fractured up to the ridge, but it'll get healed tomorrow. "Just a little."
"Part of the job, I guess," you say, even though you don't sound convinced. You still think he's a boxer, spending his little winnings on nights with you.
"Don't worry about me." He reaches out and pats your side. "I'm just happy to see you."
You glow at that and Taishiro pretends it means something. He's not naive. He understands this is a business transaction to you, but he still lets himself pretend that this thing between you is something.
"Can I borrow one of your shirts?" You're already up and walking towards his bedroom. "This dress isn't comfortable."
"Second drawer down." You already know that. The real perk of being so tall and (normally) big is how cozy you look in his clothing. "I'll put on a movie."
"You're the best."
A couple minutes later, you're back, a comically oversized shirt acting as your new dress. Despite himself, he wonders if you're naked under there. He'll never act on it, he'll never expect or ask for sex from you during these little dates, but he can't pretend that his mind doesn't go there, especially when you bend down just like that and your neckline gaps-
A string of dark, uneven bruises trails down your bare chest. You're picking through the bag of food you ordered, none the wiser, but he's watching you, picking the spots that have been painted with concealer; the middle of your throat, a line straight under your jaw of both sides.
"You're bruised too."
You start at that.
"Yeah, well-" you inhale, then pop a dumpling into your mouth. You chew for a very long time, trying to postpone an answer. "Part of the job."
Again, he's not naive. He knows what men do to you, what you do to them. That doesn't bother him; what makes his skin crawl is the thought of their hands, closing a bit too tight, or coming down to make marks-
"It shouldn't be. If anyone's hurting you-"
"It's not like that." Suddenly, you settle down on his lap, feet tucked under one thigh. Your skin smells like saffron and sweetness, a hint of sweat underneath. Upclose, he can see your foundation is thicker than usual, poorly evened up over one cheek. "Here, say 'aw.'"
You hold a piece of food out by your fingers.
"I'm not hungry."
You sniff the air. "That's a lie-- come on, you're too skinny."
He hates and loves your little quirk, the ability to literally sniff out when something is wrong--
His lips close around your fingers for a moment longer than they need to.
"You're sweet." You say. "I wish all of my regulars are as sweet as you."