Touchstarved! Iida Next Pls🙏🙏

okay i’m glad you brought back fatgum and sw!reader because i’ve been thinking about them and how they have sex for the first time. in my mind the first time they get intimate they don’t even go “all the way.”

i’ve been picturing this scenario where fatgum says something that’s so sweet or so goofy or so something that it just kind of snaps and she can’t wait anymore. she moves in gently, give him time to turn her down if he wants, but it’s what fatgum wants more than anything in the world. so she kisses him, slow and searing and intense. crawls into his lap on his beat up old couch with the cushions that sag because nothing can hold up for too long under his true form and tries to pour everything she’s been feeling into his mouth.

and when he gets hard it’s so natural. it almost feels innocent, the least sexual thing she could possibly do in the situation. she takes her time again, gives him ample room to stop her if he wants when she pulls his cock out and strokes. he doesn’t last very long, how could he under such skilled hands, the hands of someone he’s loved for so long? the hands of someone he never thought would touch him so willingly?

and in my head she’s so high on the excitement, so confident for the first time in a long time. can’t help but ask how he feels, needs to know that he’s feeling the same electric effervescence under his skin. and it all turns sour, a sickness left in the pit of her stomach when he says he feels good and it’s a lie. when he won’t let her touch him again, even innocently, for months.

he's wanted this for so long. so. so long, but he cant help the guilt that creeps up in his ears. he's no better than the other men that use you for sex now-- he can't deny that he's ever paid for sex now.

you have your mouth around his cock and he's never ever told you his name. you think his a boxer, when he's a liar-- even worse, he knows you can smell it on him.

he can't bring himself to meet your eye. he's just like the other men, the ones that hurt you.

i suffer from 'men are hotter banged up' disease. unfortunately there is no cure.

Bloody and bruised >

“Who did this to you?”

Bakugou’s voice is low, dangerous. His eyes are sharp as they stare at you.

“What?” You blink rapidly at him.

After a year of being friends with Bakugou, you’re used to him frequently being at some level of pissed off or annoyed.

But you’ve never seen him look so angry. Like he could tear the world apart.

“This.”

You’re not prepared when Bakugou reaches up to angle your chin towards him, your breath catching as his calloused fingertips grip against your skin. He brushes his thumb, feather-light, against your cheekbone. It’s then you remember the bruise there.

“Oh! I had a practice bout with one of the new kids at our gym. He got in a lucky punch but hit me a little too hard. He’s still learning,” you say.

You smile at Bakugou and raise your hand to pat his, the one cupped against your cheek.

“Don’t worry, Bakugou. It looks worse than it actually is.”

Bakugou grunts. You expect him to step back, let go.

But he’s still, gaze locked on your face, thumb brushing back and forth against your skin like it doesn’t send shivers through your entire body, like it doesn’t make your face feel like the surface of the sun.

Nervous about his intense attention, you bite your bottom lip. Bakugou’s eyes drop to track the movement and stick there.

You can’t breathe. Is he…?

The sound of distant footsteps drawing nearer pops the bubble you’re in.

Bakugou pulls away. He doesn’t go too far, though, and because you’re so close, you can see that the tips of his ears are red, despite his neutral expression.

“Don’t box with that kid again,” he says, voice raspy, a little husky.

You swallow and nod before his words can process. Bakugou nods back, satisfied, before turning to walk away.

He’s halfway down the hallway before you come to your senses. Wait. You make a face.

“You’re not the boss of me!” you call at his retreating back.

He stops. Turns.

“What’d you say?” he asks, eyes narrowed at you, handsome face skewed into a scowl.

You know you should be intimidated, but. You think about the look in his eyes when he touched you. The heat of his palm.

So you just smile at him.

“You heard me.”

tiktok reader universe

contains mentions of sexual assault. cisfem reader.

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There's still times when Bakugo can tell your mind wanders during sex. The focus drains from your eyes, your grip goes limp, and your smile slips just a bit. You always come back to him if he says something, but... sometimes he lets it happen, lets you drift away. Maybe the distance is needed.

Even after all this time, you still never sleep over after sex. Tonight, you're a bit more impatient than usual, fixing your hair and wiping your brow right after he pulls away.

"I was offered a job today," you say casually.

"Yeah?" Bakugo loops an arm around the empty pillow that could be yours, if only you'd lean back into it. "With who?"

Instead, he's left to study the curve of your spine as you throw your legs over the side of the bed. He loves the story your body tells, with its scars and marks. Even the acne pocks are a reminder you were once just a teenager, just like he was. His own scars have puckered with age, still the same raging pink they were when they first healed.

"Someone with way too much money-" you say. -"who likes what I've done for your image and thinks I can fix theirs."

"And can you?"

You shoot him a grin from over your shoulder. "Is that even a question?"

Truthfully, Bakugo thinks you could do anything if you wanted to. You could lean over and rip his heart from his chest with just your fucking teeth-- and you'd make it look easy. He'd maybe even thank you. He'd definitely let it happen again.

Bakugo gives up on luring you back. "Well, when do you start?"

Your head tilts.

"I don't," you say."I didn't take the job."

Bakugo sits up straighter.

"I didn't want to leave you."

The statement sits warm in his chest, then quickly cools.

"Well, maybe you should have."

That makes you turn. You cock your head the other way, expression neutral, but still gracing him with a closed lip grin. The stare lasts for a long while before you crawl back under the covers and return to his side. Your lips find the side of his neck and your hands grip back to him, hot, heavy, breathless in that way you think he likes. A hum builds in your throat, a rolling, performative sound.

"Pull your cock out," you demand, right into the shell of his ear. "If this is the last time, I want another round."

"What?"

He doesn't have time to react before you're gripping his half hard cock, jerking it up gently. It's still wet with you and buzzing with sensitivity, so much so that he can't help but enjoy it, enjoy you-

"If you're about to break up with me, I want to at least cum one more time."

He loses the remnants of his erection.

"That's not what I fucking meant." Bakugo tries to meet your eye, but you just keep kissing at him, gripping at him. "Just-- stop stroking my cock for a second and be fucking serious."

You freeze, but keep your hand on him.

"I don't wanna work together," Bakugo reaches for your hand. The free one. "I just want to date."

You don't respond.

"I want to take you places and have you meet my parents and-"

God. this is so unlike him. When did he lose his teeth? Did you pull them straight from his skull and hang them from your neck like jewels?

"I want you to sleep over." He means it. "Like a real fucking couple."

The ceiling fan hums with an uneven hitch, catching in the same spot each time. It's an easy fix, but he's been ignoring it for so long that it's almost blended into the tapestry of his home. Click-click-click-click-click: now it's deafening, overwhelming the silence you're choosing to sit in. Just as he's about to open his mouth, you look away from his body and meet his eye. There's no sharp edge to your eyes.

"'tsuki."

You say it like a mother about to comfort a child, with a rounded curve to your tone that he's never heard before. You're trying to dull the blow, but it does nothing. It's a fucking knife to the gut.

"I'm serious. I'm really serious." He points with his whole arm towards the bathroom. "I've had a fucking toothbrush ready for you for weeks now. It's right there, in the fucking package."

You withdraw, smile long gone. The air between you two, trapped under the covers, goes cold.

"The girlfriend thing." You are unrecognizable without your Mona Lisa grin and he's obsessed with it. He wants to consume these rare moments, chew on them until he's full of you and only you, despite how it makes his stomach turn. "It was never real. You know that."

You cover your bare tits with one arm, but leave your pussy exposed. It feels like a reflex more than an actual concern.

"I'm not meant to be a girlfriend. You don't want me as a girlfriend."

Bakugo's quick to close the distance between you, but he pauses when you full body flinch. Your quirk activates for a moment - you glitter out of existence and then immediately back in- like it's unwittingly done. It's another incredibly un-you moment, but one that he doesn't want to drink in.

"I do." He keeps his voice as delicate as he can. "I do. I fucking do."

"I don't know how to do the things you need. I don't know how to be a girlfriend," you say. The corners of your smile return and he can see the wall coming back up. The arch of your back, the way your hand suddenly cups your tit: you turn yourself into someone else, someone's who's happy to be here, in an instant. "I can make myself girlfriend shaped. I can open my mouth and let you fuck it. I can pose for a picture. I can make your friends jealous."

Oh, and that distant look comes back to your face. The dilation of your eye is just... wrong, even as you smile.

"But I'm just something that's girlfriend shaped," you say. "I'm an illusion, a creature, a tool, a hole-"

"Don't ever say that shit again."

It rips out of him too roughly. "A hole? That's-- why would you say that?"

It all seems to hit you slowly, as if you're processing your own words. Like it never occured to you that you were saying something foul.

"Because-" you try to explain yourself.

"You're just a girl," Bakugo doesn't let you finish the thought. He can't. Not when you're above him like that, so guarded and yet so vulnerable, neither predator nor prey. "I hate to break your fucking illusion or whatever, but you aren't this fucking lumbering beast or huntress or, or, or, I dunno, whatever the commission has tricked you into believing."

He tries to meet your eye, but you're ducking away from it.

"You're just a girl." He lets his hands fall back to his lap. The pinky that doesn't work twitches, kicking with it's old muscle memory. The scar tissue itches under it's own tautness. "Underneath it all. You're just a girl."

The mattress creaks under your weight as you shift back. Now, your eyes are incredibly focused, almost pinpricks. You watch him with an unreadable expression, one slowly inching more towards horror with every moment.

"You think I can't see you, but I can." Bakugo stays where he is. "And I think you want to be seen."

Everything moves slowly. You blink a couple times, with this meek nod, swallowing thickly as you listen. Then, you get off of the bed and head towards the door. All of your clothes are still scattered on the bedroom floor, your panties at the foot of the bed.

"Wait." Bakugo scrambles to get to his feet. "Don't- fucking wait."

He says your name, once, twice, three times, and gets no response. Panic and regret swirl in his skull, so violent he almost goes lightheaded. By the time he reaches the hall, you're gone, and he thinks you've activated your quirk to escape him. It's the nightmare he's always had around you, the one where you disappear into the night the second he gets too close.

And then the bathroom light flicks on. With a careful trepidation, Bakugo inches down towards the door, afraid the break the illusion. Maybe, if he moves too fast, you'll really scatter off into the night, a deer under his headlights.

But when he slides into the frame, you're just standing there, holding a familiar little tube.

"This it?" You hold the package in your hand. "My toothbrush?"

"Yeah."

With your thumbs, you crack into the packaging and carefully peel the toothbrush out. You run the head under the faucet, then turn it off.

"Toothpaste?"

Bakugo pulls out the top drawer. With a sullen nod, you take the toothpaste and unscrew the top. Bakugo watches you, both of you completely naked, both of you completely silent. It surprises him how unsexual it feels to be here, postcoital, still sweaty, watching you brush your teeth. After the moment settles, he steps over and grabs his own brush.

You're just a girl, he thinks as he brushes his teeth next to you. He likes that you're just a girl next to him.

The both of you finish up, then you silently pad back to the room. Bakugo follows, a healthy distance, but close enough the he watches you shrug on his sweatshirt before dipping under the covers. Your head rests on your pillow.

Bakugo finds his space on the other side of the bed and you lay there, in the dim overhead lighting.

"It's hard for me," you say.

"Sleeping?"

"Yeah."

Bakugo turns on to his side and almost reaches out. Almost. Instead, he goes back and turns off the light. When he returns, you're nothing but a dark lump beside him.

"That's okay," he says, "You can sleep however the hell you want."

Your silhouette stays still.

"Sometimes I wake up crying," you say. "Or kicking, or just remembering something I shouldn't."

"Remembering what?"

The click of the fan overtakes everything again as you lay there, pulling in even breaths. A moment passes, then another and another. You're silent for too long, long enough that he thinks you've fallen asleep. Just as he's about to give up, you sigh out a winding breath.

"He was a hero," you whisper. "I felt special when he paid attention to me."

A chill he can't place creeps up his spine. He wants to ask what that means, why you're telling him this, but nothing comes out when he opens his mouth. He has to swallow, then cleae his throat.

"Did-?" His voice crackles. "Did someone hurt you?"

Again, you're silent.

"Who?" This time, when you don't respond, he presses. "Fucking who?"

"Someone who retired a long, long time ago."

"Give me a name and I'll fucking-"

"Katsuki."

"Someone raped you."

He had to say it out loud and dispel the mystery behind it. It's selfish, brash, but he needed it- just as he needs this hand around you, holding, cradling-

"That's what happens when you're just a girl." You clutch at his forearm with a want that isn't present in your voice. "People hurt you."

The bite of your nails surprises him.

"It's safer to be something else."

It's his turn to be quiet.

In yandere DabiHawks poly fics, reader is always clinging to Hawks.. I mean it's understandable. Hawks is friendlier, more open, outwardly affectionate and he's something Dabi struggles with... he's caring. But putting that aside, what if reader clung to Dabi instead 🤔

Dabi has always been intense, cerulean eyes that stare into your soul, big hands that like to grab at your throat- pull at your hair, the power to wield the brightest, bluest flames you've ever seen- and oh oh don't forget, he's not skinny and scrawny, he's packing quite a bit of muscle under his clothes. Everything about him screams, "STAY AWAY" and "RUN." But you obviously don't see the warning signs that are so blatantly there or you just really don't care, Dabi's not sure yet. Hawks despises it though, he's the hero, the good guy- he protects civilians from people like Dabi for fucks sake, so why do you cling to Dabi so fucking much, hm? Anytime they both come home Hawks hugs you and while you do reciprocate, it's half-assed. Giving him a loose hug before twisting out of his grip to run towards Dabi and jump on him, basically making out with him while Hawks has too watch and sneer. "Hey babydoll, you miss me, hm? You nod at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him, fisting at Dabis hair to keep him close. Dabi chuckles, slipping his tongue into your mouth as he opens his eyes to stare at Hawks, the ladder scoffs and walks away. At first, when Hawks and Dabi come to the agreement to share you and had taken you away, brought you to Hawks nice penthouse with a beautiful overlook of the city, Hawks was so sure you would favor him. It had taken you a little while to even warm up to them but for you to cling to Dabi when he was so mean to you at first pisses Hawks off and you make it so obvious you prefer Dabi. You don't even kiss Hawks, just a peck before he leaves for work and then you're bouncing over to Dabi with a gleam in your eye, plopping down on his lap as Hawks leaves more irritated then before. Hawks couldn't even explain how many times he's come home from an exhausting day of hero work to see you riding Dabi, grinding down on his cock as you whine like a bitch in heat, screaming Dabis name, begging to cum on Dabis cock.. but no, no, never Hawks. The only reason you let him kiss you is because you're so cock drunk on Dabi that you don't notice. Head thrown back as you whine, eyes screwed shut tightly with your nails making pretty red lines on Dabis chest. That's one of the only times Hawks can kiss you and even then, Dabi still smirks in his face, cause he knows, he knows you don't really like Hawks and he uses that. Dabi will fuck you over the kitchen table, timing your orgasm to when Hawks walks through the door. Just for him to scowl as you scream for Dabi. For the months you've been here, Hawks has never fucked you by himself, Dabi is always in the room or even inside you. You don't make a fuss when Hawks makes out with your pussy only because Dabi has you occupied with his tongue in your mouth and a hand around your throat. "There you go baby, letting the little hero eat your pretty pussy, huh?" Hawks glances up at you from his place between your legs, you nod at Dabi, not looking away from him as you continue to kiss him, licking at his tongue. That. That shit pisses off Hawks, he's taking the time out of his day to make your pretty pussy cum for and you don't even look at him. That won't fly with Hawks and he makes sure you know that as he slaps your clit a couple times. It has you keening backwards, into Dabis chest, whining out as you attempt to arch away. "You disrespectful bitch, I'm eating your pussy, making you cum in my mouth and all you can say is Dabi.. are you fuckin serious slut?" He pushes himself up from his stomach, grabbing you by your throat to pull you towards him. "You're so far up his fucking ass you won't even kiss me, won't tell me you love me or even hug me.. but you'll do all that and more for that prick, won't you bitch?" You try to thrash around, reaching towards Dabi and whining for him but that just pisses Hawks off more. Hawks pulls you towards the edge of the bed and pins you down. "You'll learn to love me angel, I'll make sure of that."

currently having heart palpitation over hawks being soft just for you. subby!hawks

you’re the one person where he feels comfortable shedding his many personas, the only one who actually makes him feel safe. it’s why he’s here now, arms wrapped tightly around your waist, face pressed into your neck, huffing down your scent like a man seeking reason in a mad world

he’s a performer, a do-gooder, a hero intent on flashing bells and whistles so no one will know that the pain originates inside of him, so the minute he hears your soft little voice say, “bad day, baby?” he’s practically doubled over in gratitude, in relief—finally, finally, he can put the performance away

he just nods against your neck, body tense, and lets you take the lead. closes his eyes tight to keep himself from falling apart when you whisper in his ear, “let me do all the thinking, then, okay?”

when you care for him like this, he’s hesitant to call it sex. it’s something more sacred, divine, your body transcending the words he knows you long to use. you make him feel something he’s never felt in his entire life

you gently push him onto the couch and unbuckle his pants, knowing smile curling your lips when you see how hard he is, straining along the length of his thigh

“poor baby,” you coo and lean in, licking him through his briefs. he nearly cums then and there, fists his hand in the back of your hair to stop you—

“sorry gorgeous,” he says, chest heaving. you love taking care of him because it produces this effect, golden eyes blown out in arousal, wings rippling out and preening behind him. “need you too much for that.”

both of you undress economically and without fuss—skin-to-skin contact is the goal, and hawks already thinks of your beauty as sacrosanct. it doesn’t matter if you sashay your hips at him or not; the want is there 24/7 regardless

you cup his face in your hands and kiss him, gently working your clit along the head of his cock, rubbing back and forth until his hands clamp down on your hips in a silent plea

hawks’ arms wrap around your waist once you roll down onto him, holding you close, forehead pressed to yours as you ride him, mouth hung open in pleasure

he begs you to go harder, faster, “please dove, feel how fucking close I am” as his cock pulses inside you

as he gets closer, he mumbles a litany of moans and whimpers into your neck, punctuating each roll of his hips with a claim, “my darling, my little bird, my fucking girl”—drinks in the sight of you falling apart on his lap like a man finding salvation

later, when you're carding your fingers through his hair in the shower, he says what he's been meaning to for months, "I love you, too"

i think bakugou is the type of person to sleep with all of his limbs around you— overall very touchy and affectionate, so when you bring it up the next day he denies it wholeheartedly because he genuinely believes, with his entire being, that no way he’s a clingy sleeper

fuck or die with iida but this time i write it with my full pussy

Wishful dreams 😖