Sincerely Yours | Season Two

𝐀 𝐇𝐘𝐌𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 || 𝐦.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

On a diplomatic trip far from home, Prince Bakugou must contend with his hatred for you. A woman who lives to take orders. The last thing the warrior prince needs is a babysitter but it’s a feat, not a coincidence, that you are the only apprentice to the captain of his royal guard. Feasts, balls, and festivities await you and your new friends at Takoba, and in the seaside kingdom you must reconcile with the idea that your prince is not so noble as the queen who raised him. All while something half dead and long forgotten festers on high tide.

𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 [𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔] prince!bakugou x royal guard!(fem) reader, slow burn to eventual smut. y/n has a personality and it is business formal, she grows. individual chapters will have specific tags-warnings-ratings— in general please expect violence/descriptions of injuries, strong language, two aloof fools, the classic motley bnha crew, seaside shenanigans. bakugou is an absolute piece of work, y/n is professional to a fault and it drives him insane. travel companions ー civil teammates ー genuine enemies ー confused friends ー lovers. plenty of ridiculous tension accompanied by angst and 𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒄

❂ ー 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 this story has been my baby over the past few months (was this a direct response to mha ch 362? yes) — so I hope you cherish it as much as I do. I am not immune to roy/riza (fmab) and many of the dynamics in this au are heavily inspired by their relationship! just gotta build up that trust first (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ be prepared to absolutely hurtle this man out of harm's way TAGLIST | AO3

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈

𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆. ✦

You terrify him and it breaks his heart.

𝒐𝒏𝒆. 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩

In the warm forests of Aldera Castle you and the prince grew up in periphery. A soldier without magic and the boy who never spoke to her. Suddenly, he is your only responsibility.

𝒕𝒘𝒐. 𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞, 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠

With the first day of travel under your belt and introductions well collected, your Alderan company finds time to unwind together. Thankfully, nothing bad ever happens around a campfire.

𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆. 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝

Are all carriages of the east made for prisoners of war? Prince Bakugou despises the close quarters and their snagging silver fixtures, but it is a special kind of fate that would deliver you to the safety of the sea and to the feet of the fire that bars your entrance. And deliver you together at that.

𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒓. 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐞

Hats off to dying!

𝒇𝒊𝒗𝒆. 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

What a vivid dream you’ve made, of the prince and his heavy hands wrapped around your body.

𝒔𝒊𝒙. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐨𝐛𝐚

It is at exactly the wrong moment that you realize where all the guards have gone, and just how desperate you must appear for the prince to take such pleasure in destruction.

𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏. 𝐡𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭

Would he treat you this way in the presence of others? Is it only when you're alone that hell raises?

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈

𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕. 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐚 (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 & 𝐭𝐰𝐨.)

In the immortal words of your prince, this was a dogshit idea for a dinner party. You are haunted by blue flames and scarred ghosts no matter how hard you focus on work, and a punishment for your distraction is in order.

𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒆.

(april 22.)

ma’am i only found your blog yesterday but your ex hubby bakugo got me in a trance, and i hsjsksksksksk, but ill present you: ‘drunk ex husband bakugo’ i- i mean he would be so silly and calls you at 1am to tell you how much he loves you and the little one and how much he misses you, babbles away all the nonsense else, but the way he murmurs and mumbles silly things on the phone got you giggle at midnight (and sad at the time because holy hell you miss him too), then you have to talk him out of it to go home and sleep, he listens, he goes home, yeah, and 10 minutes later he shows up at your front door (still hella woozy) because he is just that stupidly drunk and he has always wanted to go home to you :((

ANON ??? OUCH ????? THIS MAKES ME SAD AKFJSODHAIA

i've always wanted to do drunk ex-whathaveyou bakugou that shows up at your door too late 🥺 but in this instance !! i feel like. you get a few calls in the middle of the night, but they're very short ?? like you wake up to your phone ringing and it's his number, so you're reaching for it, but it stops before you can answer. and you're thinking, "darn i must have slept through the first few rings," and as you're typing out a text to check in with him, he calls again for like two rings, and then it stops. and then he calls and it rings for one and then it stops.

and so now you're like — okay maybe he's butt-dialing me LOL but he tries again like 20 minutes later and you're so tired of the ring-tone that you answer it as fast as you can and just listen, waiting to see if you can hear his voice distantly, as if you're down in his back-pocket.

but he grumbles, "—the fuck? hello?"

and you ask him, "uh hey, have you been trying to call me?" but you're almost certain he doesn't hear you, because half-way through you are able to hear the loud background music and then the sound of shuffling, his grumpy lil "—the fuck off me, 'm—shut th'hell up—'m on the DAMN PHONE!"

clearly, there's a struggle, so you just kind of wait, worried you're about to hear your ex-husband get nerfed while on patrol maybe ?? but then the music drops away and is replaced by a barely-there scratchy wind, and he's breathless when he asks if you're still there.

"yeah, no, i'm still here. is...everything okay?"

he huffs, so heavy into the phone that the static almost hurts your ears. "whadda'you think?"

it's bitter enough that you blink in the darkness of your room, before glaring at the opposite wall. "excuse me?"

"fuck, 'm sorry, i—fuck." he inhales audibly, stuttering. "i'm sorry."

you frown, head turning; he sounds lazy, like he can't be assed to speak properly, and he's speaks impolitely on the regular — but it's never this bad. all his words sound curved, looped together, and he's shuffling too much on the other end, sniffing loud and mumbling to himself. almost like he's—

"are you...drunk?"

you're expecting an immediate no, even if evidence is proving otherwise, because he's not a drinker. occasionally, when he's out for dinner or at one of kirishima's backyard barbecues, but it's so infrequent that his tolerance is low, for someone of his size. it doesn't take much to have him a little sloshed, and he hates it, not only for the feeling the day after, but because his mouth tends to run. more than usual.

"it's that fuckin'—dunce head ass 'n his—stupid piano teeth, tape-face—"

kaminari and sero, you think. you think.

"'n i didn't want to fuckin' come to shit like this, ever. because they're so 'blah fuckin' blah, get over yourself', as if i'm—whatever. dumbasses." he pauses, and before you can finish piecing together what he's trying to say, he continues. "'n i'm not even like them, because they're fucking losers, and i don't—i don't even want that chick's number, okay? i don't fuckin' care, okay?"

your heart throbs dangerously, suddenly swollen and too tender, at the very thought of him and someone else, and you have to squeeze your eyes shut tight. "bakugou—"

"bakugou?" he cuts you off loudly, offended. "'r'you fuckin'—sorry, shit. bakugou? you're a goddamn bakugou—"

you have the throw the blankets off your lap so that you can hurry to your bedroom door, to shut it before hissing at him. "i'm not gonna sit here and get cussed out, katsuki. we're divorced."

"sorry! fuck, i'm—i mean—sorry, sorry. 'm not—it ain't at you, y'know? you know that, right?"

and you do. you do know that. it's just how he talks, he would tell you, and he would cut down on it for a little while before it inevitably came back and — it just hurts, at times. to be on the receiving end of his hottest flame.

"yeah," you tell him quietly, leaning against the door when he sighs. "yeah, i know."

"she—" he groans, deep and frustrated. "she fuckin'—god, sorry. she did that t'me all th'time, y'know? 'cut the fuckin' attitude, katsuki,' 'n then fuckin' SMACK!" you can hear the sharp sound of his slap, metallic, like he's against a lamp post or something. "but then she's comin' up t'my room, all like, 'y'know i love you' 'n—how 'm i suppos' t'know that stuff?"

he's never really spoken about his childhood; his parents, yes, through comments here and there about how they irritated him, but nothing serious. you've seen firsthand how tumultuous his relationship with his mother is, and she still smacks him around, but he's big now, much bigger than she is; you never considered what it was like for him, when he was younger.

even if he is drunk, even if he won't remember tomorrow — you still want to be there for him.

you realize he's waiting for an answer, with how long he's quiet, and you shrug to yourself before gently saying, "i don't know, katsuki. it sounds like it would have been very confusing."

"yeah, i mean—" he exhales slowly, though the end trails off into a growl, as if he's grown frustrated again. "i would never fuckin' hit you."

"i know that, katsuki, and i've never thought you would. and i would never hit you, either, y'know?"

"yeah," he repeats, and you can hear him swallowing, the sound so thick that you think he might choke. "i'd never hit you, or—or—hey, where is he? i wanna talk to 'im."

at the mention of your son, you peek down the hall to make sure his door isn't open, that he's not snooping around like you've caught him doing lately — but it's still mostly closed, and you don't hear any little feet against the hardwood.

you squint at your phone, blinded momentarily at the blue-light as you check the time. "it's the middle of the night, katsuki, he's asleep."

"did he have a good day?"

"yeah, he—"

"tell me about it. tell me th-the whole thing."

and — you do, as he listens and grunts and murmurs little things you don't catch. occasionally, he'll groan, really quiet like he's trying not to cry, and it's after the third time he asks to speak to him again that you finally decide to call him an uber.

and you put in his home address !!! but not thirty minutes later, you are sort of roused out of sleep because he's lightly knocking on your door, in the middle of the night, and you have to get up and go check so he doesn't wake your son up !!!!

and he's probably a MESS, all red-faced and SAD, rubbing at his eyes, almost tripping into your house because he was leaning against the door. it's not even worth arguing about getting him to his actual home because it's late and he's being a little loud, so you just give him some water and make him lay down on the couch and — he's out like a light right away LOL

but. you wake up a few hours later to him laying in your bed, on top of the blankets, his pants are on the floor but his shirt and jacket are still on LOL and he's not quite touching you, but if you jostle even a little bit, his face will press into your back 🥺 you don't know when he got up and came into your room, but he was sober enough to be quiet about it, and when you wake up in the morning, he's already re-dressed and sitting with your son at the kitchen table 🥺

WAAAAHHH i made this so sad. i'm so sorry akjfajfajaljfa he's such a BABY !!! god help me, bc if it really was me, i would take him back in a heartbeat LOL

「 STUCK IN THE MIDDLE 」 💧 PROLOGUE

PAIRING : Gojo Satoru x Reader.

OTHER CHARACTERS : Geto Suguru. Ieiri Shoko. Iori Utahime. Nanami Kento. Fushiguro Megumi. MORE....

GENRE : Angst.

TAGS/WARNINGS : NSFW. Unrequited Love. Childhood Friends. Toxicity. Friends with benefits. Past relationships. Set in the Jujutsu World (will take & use canon events but NOT exactly canon compliant). Profanity. Injury & Violence.

SYNOPSIS : For as long as you could remember, there was Utahime and Satoru. From the chaos of your years together at Jujutsu High to the following years of going through the crushing burden of having to teach young sorcerers in training, they have always existed in every variation of your memories. They’ve been together for as long as you could remember and your lifelong love and admiration for Gojo Satoru has no place in the friend group you’ve all tried so hard to keep together. There has only been Utahime and Satoru... Until there wasn’t. And suddenly, you’ve found yourself stuck in the middle of it all.

TAGLIST : OPEN

The clouds swallow every bit of light the moon is supposed to give, casting the room in swirling shadows and creeping darkness. If you listen closely, ignoring the thunderous beating of your heart against your chest, you’ll hear the melodic howling of the wind. There was something ominous about tonight. Ten or so crows fly in a never-ending circle—almost as if telling you something. Like a bad omen, a wolf dog howls in the distance. It’s going to be a long night and you know it. 

You’ve known it since you saw the familiar black car pulling up as you watch through the windows of your room. You’ve known it since you decided to open the doors to your home five hours ago—a slave to the jewel blue eyes of the man you’ve loved for as long as you could remember. You’ve known it since you felt the sharp pain against your back as he slammed you against the mahogany, lips latching onto your neck with a sharp inhale of exhilaration. As if he’s been waiting for this, waiting for you. Like you are the salvation from the hell he’s been living. You’ve known it since he pushed himself into you. Some kind of twisted fulfillment to the dreams you’ve prayed for every single night.

“Jesus,” he breathes, eyelids drooping shut as he enters your warmth. 

The intrusion makes you clench involuntarily, toes curling as the first taste of heaven engulfs your whole body. A whimper escapes through your lips, a small cry of both pain and pleasure. His length fills you up to the brim. Chokes down air from your lungs until you start feeling like you couldn’t breathe. He fits so perfectly inside you with every ridge, every vein grating into the gummy walls of your insides and hitting every sensitive part of you. 

When he starts to move, building his pace and starting slow, you feel yourself leak even more—inner thighs slick with the cream he’s messily spreading all over the both of you. Mindlessly, he starts to move even faster, length pumping in and out of you in an attempt to reach your highs. The head of his cock nudges your cervix, a painful knock that sends your mind reeling. A powerful and welcome pain that keeps your head light with eyes rolled back and a scream building up from the back of your throat.

Reaching up, you wrap your arms around his neck, meeting his rough thrusts with equally rough jolts of your hips. Grinding against his length, you feel him reach even deeper inside you causing you to clench harshly, a scream ripping from your throat as you feel his own arms wrap around your waist to steady you.

“Jesus, fuck,” he curses, teeth gritted. “Loosen up, sweetheart. Gonna—fuck, gonna lose my fucking mind. Relax, sweetheart, y-yeah— shit, that's it, good girl.”

The room fills with a plethora of your labored breathing and curses, a sign of the ecstasy that connects you with the man beneath you. With shaky thighs, you lift yourself up from him, a squirt of juices wetting his abdomen and thighs. You feel yourself fading out of consciousness, insides overstimulated from the feeling of the strongest fucking in and out of your womb. Still, you fight it, dropping back down his thigh with teary eyes as you reach up to cradle his face.

“More, ‘Toru,” you moan with a sluggish grin, nipples hard and rubbing against his sweaty chest. “Wanted this for so long, ‘Toru. Needed this so, so bad. Please, please, keep going—nnghhh.”

He ignored all of this, fingers silently  reaching between your bodies to rub tight circles on your clit—drawing you closer and closer to another orgasm while his other fingers splay against the small of your back, holding you close to him.

Everything is so perfect. 

You against him, him against you. Your bodies in perfect rhythm and melody. This is a dream come true. It's that one moment in life that makes you go, finally. Every breath, every feeling, every touch, every connection of your body with his gets amplified and it's all you could see and hear and feel. 

It's all you are. It's all you ever wish to be.

Until everything in the moment fades away from you as you reach another orgasm, your walls warming with the flow of his own high releasing inside you. Then, you barely even feel the next rounds of movement as he continues moving in and out of you. Suddenly, all you could feel and hear was that voice in your head telling you all the reasons why this is wrong. Suddenly, the pleasure and achievement that came with Gojo Satoru finally seeing you in a different light and getting intimate with you is crushed by the pain that reminds you why this is nothing to be proud of. 

This wasn't supposed to happen.

With a strike of pain on your chest, you hear your own voice in your head. Playing over and over like a broken record. Whispering until it's a loud blaring in your thoughts:

This is a mistake. 

He's your fucking best friend. She's your friend too.

He's broken, he's sad, he's confused. 

They've just broken up.

He's just using you. 

All of these play into your head like a melody you're not ever going to forget. It's a steady hum within you. A constant reminder that never fails to make you flinch even as he pulls out of you and falls unconscious with sleep on your side of the bed. Like a persistent devil, your thoughts are in chaos until the moment you shut your eyes on the bed beside him—curtain drawn for you couldn't stand to see the bad omens so painfully and obviously laid out as a reminder of what all of this is and what it isn't.

You're never going to forget, you think.

Not as your heart breaks when you hear the silent buzz of Infinity enveloping Gojo Satoru—a thing to keep everyone at a distance, a sound inaudible to everyone else in the world but you. 

fashion killa ; masterlist

[ nsfw ] — smut (18+) ; bakugou katsuki x reader

word count: 38,923 — read on ao3

summary:

Fashion Week was supposed to be simple-walk the runway, collect your check, and, if all went according to plan, spend the night with Pro Hero Dynamight. Just a little fun. Nothing more. But getting rid of Bakugou Katsuki proves to be harder than slipping out of a too-tight sample size.

Or, in which a one-night stand with one of Japan's most famous men turns into a relentless game of cat and mouse-and the worst part? You don't hate it.

tags: strangers to lovers, friends with benefits, pro hero bakugou katsuki, explicit language & sexual content, aged-up characters, porn with plot, model!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff, mutual pining, bakugou is a soft yearning idiot who i want to eat up, kirishima eijirou is a good friend, not beta read!

notes:

shoutout to iris van herpen and my palestinian queen bella hadid (and also the dsquared2 show that inspired this whole ordeal). also i have nothing and didn't know anything of the fashion industry, this is all my own research and the fact that one of my closest friends is a fashion designer, so she gave me lots of info as well lol.

this is just a small self indulgent idea which i’m really excited to share with you all. thank you for the support and for reading! enjoy! :D

ao3:

chapter one ; close my eyes

chapter two ; and fall into you

tumblr:

chapter one ; close my eyes

chapter two ; and fall into you

A Burnt Rose (Complete)

✿ You and Touya parted on bad terms. Six years later, he spots you visiting his father, a red-headed kid in tow. He’s determined to find out what you’ve been up to while he’s been gone.

Touya x Fem!Reader ✿ Single parent

Updated Tuesdays and Fridays, any times indicated are in PST

Overall themes of angst. If you’ve read any of my other work, angst with a happy ending is my usual MO. Warnings marked at the beginning of applicable chapters: violence, child loss, implied drug use

⁕ Chapter 0 (Prequel)

⁕ Chapter 1

⁕ Chapter 2

⁕ Chapter 3

⁕ Chapter 4

⁕ Chapter 4.5

⁕ Chapter 5

⁕ Chapter 6

⁕ Chapter 7

⁕ Chapter 8

⁕ Chapter 9

⁕ Chapter 10

⁕ Chapter 11 (Epilogue)

Tag list: @mmmochi-art @jems-all-in-a-wood @boosyboo9206 @dani-d0rk @kunaigirlx44 @myriadis @northsideprincess @cutiebear45 @prettypuppy1563 @fandomsgotmefucked @txixy @whore-for-anime @isabel2you @haitanihime @callmelucas @askerror87 @devilsbooksworld @mikasackrmann @xnorthstar3x @undefined--person @bubblegum-bee-otch @h0wab0utw3d0ntd0that @eijis-stuff @cinnamon-n-roses @theequeenofcurses @bananasquash @aizawasfemdom @cascade-away @dabi-sunflower

Two Rings and a Promise - Part 1

Prince!Touya x Duchess!Reader

Warnings: talks of marriage, arson, people being burnt to death (not reader), flashbacks, angst, reader and Touya got engaged as children (like it used to be done in the past between royals and nobles)

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Header by @pricetagofficial

Note: I accidentally published this instead of saving it as a draft, but it was basically done, save for a few details, so screw it. Biggest thank yous to @sparklytamaki for being my beta reader and helping me with writing this for over a year. This is also for @feitanporter, @dabisqueen, @crimsonkenjii-writes, and @pricetagofficial who have been meaning to read it! Thank you all for your patience!

You stare back at yourself through the mirror, focusing on your maids finishing the final touches on your makeup and jewelry. Wearing your favorite color, you are supposed to show a happy face for this occasion. You can’t even practice faking a smile for the crowd gathered downstairs waiting for you.

This is not how you expected your wedding to go. But then again, your dream marriage was never to happen. You had envisioned yourself in a pretty white dress, comfortable enough to allow you to run in an open field, wearing flowers on your head, holding hands with the one you had chosen to marry. It seemed like child’s play, looking back, but you and Touya were serious making that promise to yourselves. To wait until you were old enough to exchange real vows in front of a real priest on a real altar. Not because it suited your parents’ interests, but because it was what you wanted. Politics be damned, you made a choice as to what to do with your lives.

A bitter smile distorted your face as you remembered. None of your maids dared asking about it; they simply carried on with their work in silence. You looked down at your left hand and the ring that was already placed on your finger. A precious aquamarine stone set among small diamonds within a circular arrangement on a silver band. You recall stealing it from your mother’s dressing room, along with its match from your father’s. Another silver ring, the same type of stone in the same shape, but with a simpler setting. The image of Touya’s face lightening up when you gave it to him, showing him yours and telling him how these rings were proof of your promises; that look in his eyes, a blessing at that time, hasn’t stopped haunting you since. It was the image of a boy finally learning somebody wanted him. And you did want him. Maybe not during your first meeting -a very awkward playdate arranged by his father the King and your father the Duke-, but definitely after a few years, when you had become the best of friends. Two lonely children keeping each other company, in a pleasant game you were sure was gonna last forever.

Oh, silly child. Soon you will learn what it is to live in the real world.

A sob escapes from the bottom of your chest as you take the ring off, never to wear it again. You chastise yourself for this display of emotion, trying to stifle it as you tie a simple chain around the ring, then your neck. You tried not to get too worked up: after all, the wedding wasn’t taking place until tomorrow night. Tonight was just a feast held in your new fiancé’s honor, to welcome him into your lands before welcoming him into your bed. One of your uncle’s eccentricities, you suppose. He’s always looking for any excuse to create displays of grandeur to impress foreigners, especially if the money to pay for them came from someone else’s pocket. After both your parents died, your uncle took over your estate -but only until you turned of age, he assured you. He promised he would only take your best interests in mind. You were still a child back then, and needed someone to rely on. So you believed him, and let him into your home. You could have never guessed he would overstay his welcome, up to a few years into your adulthood.

You hid the ring inside your corset, closer to your heart, where it would rest for the rest of your days, next to Touya’s memory. You took a deep breath and slightly raised your head as you stared at yourself through the mirror once again.

They will never take him away from you.

Looking perfect, you adopted a serene, neutral expression, adequate enough to greet your guests downstairs.

This was to be a long night.

Haunting. That is how you would describe this entire ordeal. A haunting circus in which everyone mocked your pain under the guise of a celebration. Sitting on your banquet chair for the past two hours or so, you refused to be a part of it, despite your body going numb. Paying no mind to their ghoulish smiles, barely acknowledging their empty congratulations - this was a line of clowns in their best clothes that seemed to be endless as the night dragged on.

You wished you could disappear.

Somewhere, in your haze, you could hear children running around. Servants’ sons and daughters, laughing merrily as if they had a big secret among themselves, like backstage workers who knew the trick behind every performance, amazing the audience. You were once their age, right? Running about carelessly with your friends, play-pretending to be someone else, pushing each other on swings, sneaking out to steal treats from the kitchen, talking about everything and nothing... It was another life, one you can never return to.

“Milady, look!” a cheerful voice pulled you out of your stupor. Looking down, you see a tiny crowd of around 5 children surrounding your seat, looking up at you, expectantly. One of them, the youngest of the girls, was holding out a small bouquet of wildflowers, waiting for you to take it. “It’s for you! We spent all morning picking them in the fields!”

Alas, the first genuine smile of the night broke into your face. You took the flowers and brought them closer to your face to enjoy their sweet smell.

"Thank you, dear." you replied with a soft tone. "They're beautiful. I hope you didn't go through too much trouble finding them."

"My lady, is it true you're leaving us?" a concerned boy stepped forward to ask.

You blinked twice, not expecting them to know about this. But then again, it's only natural they do. Your wedding has been the only talk at your estate these past few weeks.

"Why... I'm afraid I am." you admitted sheepishly.

"But why?!" another girl stepped forward.

"Because I am getting married tomorrow, to a Count that is not from around here. And well... when a woman marries a man, she leaves her own home to move into his."

"But what if she doesn't want to?"

You were left wordless at this. That was a good question.

"Children!" a worried maid came running along. "What are you doing here, bothering the Duchess? It is way past your bedtime." she managed to gather the kids around and take them away. "I'm so sorry, your Grace, I could have sworn they were asleep-"

"It's fine, really." you intervened, amused. "They just came to present me with these." you showed off your flowers. "They have been very kind to me. Tell them I will stop by to say goodbye tomorrow, that will settle them."

"O-of course, my Lady."

"One more thing, before you go. Could you bring me another glass of wine? Better yet, bring the whole pitcher, please."

The young maid furrowed her brow at this, yet she bowed and made her way back to the kitchen.

Your drink arrived, but you couldn’t get that girl’s question out of your head.

“What if she doesn’t want to?”

It did not matter.

“But I don’t want to go!” you sobbed while your mother struggled to tie your coat on - the maids already worn out from your fighting against getting dressed to leave at once. “I know, darling, but this is something we must do, whether we like it or not.” she tried to reason with you.

“But why?!”

“Because we must obey the King’s orders. He commanded that you moved to live at Court-”

“But I don’t want to live with the King!” you started bawling again. “He scares me!” An ill-tempered, loud-spoken giant with cold blue eyes and a flaming beard, he was a sore sight to behold whenever he showed up. Had he not had the respect of all his courtiers, anyone would have mistaken him for an ogre.

Your mother scoffed, amused. “I know. He scares me too, but you won’t be living with him.” you stop struggling, confused. “Instead, you’ll move in with his children. You remember them, right? Princess Fuyumi and Prince Touya.” she emphasized on that last name. “You have played together when they’ve come to visit us here. Now you’ll get to play with them whenever you want, only this time in their palace.” she finally managed to lace your coat closed.

You sniffled. “I want to stay with you...”

“I know, darling.” she picked you up in her arms. “But sometimes we must do things we don’t want to. You know why?” you shook your head. “Because they’re what’s right, even if they don’t seem like that at first. In the long run, you’ll see they were for the best.” she kissed the top of your head. “I promise your father and I will come visit you at the first chance we get. But I bet that, with your new friends, you’ll barely have time to miss us.”

You didn’t think so, but stayed quiet. Your mother was making an effort to comfort and encourage you, but it wasn’t fully working. She smiled and you tried to follow, pretending her words had their desired effect. You learned something important: what you want did not matter. All you had to do in life was to smile and let yourself get carried away by the decisions of others.

"I see you have a way with children." your fiancé the Count invited himself to sit next to you. Your smile faded. "That's endearing."

You held your breath, expecting another comment discussing you having children in the near future. It never came: just him staring at you.

"Hm." was all that came out of your mouth.

He sighed in disappointment.

"Could you please use more than one syllable when talking to me?"

You took a sip of your wine and finally turned around to look at him.

"I could."

He sighed again, shaking his head.

"I know that the circumstances leading to our engagement were not... ideal.” he started. “But that doesn’t mean we should start this marriage on bad terms.”

“I thought we already did. What, with everything you did in order to force me to accept your hand.”

“I know it may seem like I forced you, but-”

“You and my uncle, plotting behind my back.” you interrupted.

“Well, what choice did I have?” he snapped.

“You could have simply asked me to marry you, like any decent man would.”

“I did! Several times! But you rejected me every single one of them.”

“And you didn’t get the hint?” you asked sarcastically.

He grunted, exasperated by now. “All I want is a peaceful, loving marriage...”

“Then find someone else to marry.” you interrupted again, beyond done with this conversation. “Someone who truly wants you.”

“But I want you!” he yelled, fist banging on the table, turning several heads into his direction.

Despite this embarrassing moment, you remained with a calm demeanor. “And that is exactly what you are getting, so I don’t understand why you’re so upset.”

He stared at you, eyes fuming, not believing what you just said. You ignored him, leaving your seat but taking your drink with you.

“Ah, my dear Count!” your uncle’s loud voice startled you as he barged in. “Please excuse my niece’s behavior. She’s always had an attitude, especially when nervous, but that is normal among young women these days.” you scoffed. “I do see several guests that have been meaning to congratulate you all night. Why don’t you go over to greet them while I talk with the Duchess? It won’t be long, I promise.”

The Count obliged, nodding at the two of you before walking away. You immediately seized the opportunity to do the same, but were promptly grabbed into staying.

“What is your problem?” your uncle’s tone shifted into something less cordial and more menacing. It didn’t phase you, though.

“I could ask you the same, to both of you. Everything is going your way and yet you’re still complaining-”

“It’s because of you! Your sour face ruins the mood for everyone!”

“So? What am I supposed to do? Nobody said anything about me having to look happy tonight. But don’t worry: if I leave, none of you will have to see how I really feel about all this nonsense. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

“Now, you listen to me girl.” he tightened his grip on your arm, applying enough pressure to make it hurt and surely leave a bruise afterwards -something that used to make you cry when you were younger, but now it was all the same. “With everything I have done to make a good match for you, you should be grateful I managed to secure this marriage-.”

You laughed. “You call that a good match? Seriously? And who asked you to do all that work in the first place? You didn’t even consult me about it, instead you simply decided it was the best-”

“The best thing for you!” he interrupted.

“For you and your plans to keep running this estate, my property, as yours and yours alone.” You corrected, voice raising. “Now that I’m old enough to take over my position as Duchess, everyone wonders why I haven’t. So, instead of letting them know what an usurping piece of shit you are, you sell me off to the first asshole desperate enough to play dirty and help you evict me out of my own home.”

“Enough!” he raised his hand while pulling you closer to make sure you took the hit. A subconscious reaction, he stopped halfway through, upon remembering you weren’t alone in the room.

You scoffed, shoving him, and releasing yourself from his grasp. Wine had spilled all over your dress.

“Tomorrow you will get what you want: I will be gone, having become someone else’s problem. And if there is one good thing coming out of this is that I will never have to see your fucking face ever again!” You ended up yelling at him, not caring about everyone’s gazes placed on you.

Just as your voice boomed, the sound of an explosion could be heard all over the great hall. Everyone went silent, confusion rising like a cloud of smoke. Another explosion followed; this time accompanied by agonizing screams of dying men. It was close. Close enough to rattle the entire room. You looked at your uncle, whose eyes were set on the Count, before falling on you. He then left your side to announce: “Beloved guests, please remain seated. Rest assured you are safe here. I will inquire with the Head Guard and get to the bottom of this.” Another roar interrupted him.

A bright blue flare blew the doors open, pushing forward whoever was standing near and throwing in a couple of carbonized corpses. Panic instantly rose at the sight of it; you choked a scream by covering your mouth with your trembling hands. The guests wasted no time escaping through the side doors. You stood still, looking back at your servants and ladies fleeing to safety. The kitchen maid looked at you, hesitant on leaving you behind. You quietly nodded, signaling it was okay. Whoever was intruding, it was up to you to deal with them.

A tall, dark figure walked among the flames and smoke. He strolled in so casually, hands inside the pockets of his large black coat, with an uncaring, almost bored-looking expression.

No secret to who he was. Dabi. A villain fitting his description, notorious for his destructive power -one you never expected to witness firsthand. His looks characterized him just as well as his flames did: messy black hair framing his face, dark rugged patches of burnt skin contrasting with healthy-looking one. You couldn’t help but to wonder about the scars: did they hurt? How long did he have them for? What’s their story?

All those questions were thrown aside once you managed to look into his eyes. Something about them resonated with you. A chilling shade of light blue, the more you looked at them, the more they drew you in, like a pull or hypnosis.

He scanned you up and down before letting his gaze inspect the rest of the room.

“So I guess the party’s over, huh?” was the first thing he said, coated with sarcasm. But he wasn’t wrong. Only you, your uncle and the Count stood in front of him.

“What are you doing here, villain?” your uncle asked with a hint of disgust. “We want no business with those of your kind.”

The villain in question ignored him, taking his time to walk over to you.

“I heard you’re getting married… tomorrow, right?”

You pursed your lips tightly, just nodding as a response, not breaking eye contact.

"To whom? Him?" he lazily pointed at your groom-to-be.

You nodded again, this time managing to let out a few words.

"That's the plan..."

He took another look at the Count, then turned back with a scoff. His soft giggles echoed in the room.

"Yeah... that's not going to happen." He smiled at the men next to you.

"How dare you?" exclaimed your insulted fiancé. "You have no right-"

Dabi lifted a fiery fist in his direction; enough to shut him up.

"Be honest with me." he continued, azure eyes never leaving you. "Was this your idea?"

"Say nothing!" your uncle ordered. "Not a word to this villain!"

You gulped, tongue tied. You, usually speaking your mind, were at a loss of words, not knowing if you should speak up or not. You looked at your uncle, then the Count, with a feeling that whatever you said next will reflect on them. However hateful they were, you dreaded the idea of them getting harmed because of you.

“I asked you a question.” Dabi's face got closer to yours, while his tone became more commanding. He startled you, but you quickly regained your composure. "Did you choose him?"

You shook your head, brows creasing. "No. I never wanted to get married at all. Not to anyone." Somehow, all your truths came spilling out.

He smiled.

"Is that so? Well, Y/N... I guess that means I arrived at a good time, then." he gave a few steps back.

"What do you mean-?"

A bright blue blaze came out of his extended hand, immediately reaching the Count. A set of screams filled the room, forcing you to set your gaze on a scorching body, falling to the ground as he was quickly being consumed by the fire. You gasped and covered your face. A step back made you fall on the ground, the skirts of your dress making for a soft landing. You began to feel dizzy as that horrid smell reached you. Your former betrothed lay dead on the ground, carbonated rests of a human. You could just faint from what you were witnessing, trying your best to even your breathing.

"Wh- what the hell have you done?!" your uncle raised his voice, his tone angry yet terrified. "You wretched villain, you-!"

"Is that the only word you know, old man?" Dabi looked at him, unamused. "'Villain' this, 'villain' that?" he took a few steps towards him, hand in his pockets. "You really think that's an insult, don't you?"

"What gives you the right-?"

"I take it you were the mastermind behind this arrangement, then?"

"This is none of your business!"

That put a smile on Dabi's face. "Really? You trying to marry off Y/N is none of my business?" his smile widens. Your uncle kept walking backwards for a safe distance, to no avail.

There was nothing else you could do, besides watching both men. Your hands balled into fists as your gaze observed the stranger in detail. Something about him, about his eyes, resonated with you.

"Now that's just dumb." his hand moved to pull something out of his pocket. "You should know better, old man." Your eyes widened as you saw a silver ring being placed on his finger. "You can't give out what's someone else's."

You gasped, like a madwoman who was just given her sense back. It almost sounded like a scream. "Touya!" you exclaimed the only word on your mind.

He set his eyes on you, those beautiful blues, for a fleeting instant before removing them.

"Good to know at least one of you recognizes me..."

"That's impossible!" your uncle exclaimed, drawing all attention towards him. "Prince Touya is dead! He was-"

"Killed by his own flames?" he smiled again as he lit up his hand. "Did they look like these?"

Touya was delighted in seeing the panicked state your uncle was reduced to.

"Y'know, I just can't stand people like you... if you're going to act like you're the boss here, you should at least have something to back you up." he chuckled. "That won't be a problem anymore." Those were the last words your uncle got hear.

"No! Wait!" you cried for nothing, as Touya launched his flames to the man in front of him.

You closed your eyes shut and covered your ears, not wanting to witness another man burning to death. Shaking, you forced yourself to look up, placing your trembling hands on your lap. Cold blue eyes were set on you with a neutral expression. You gulped, not daring to speak, waiting on his next move. Your life was in his hands, and he knew it, but didn't seem to care.

"There." he finally spoke. "You're free." he walked past you, out of the great hall and into the hallways. "We can talk about how you can pay me back later."

Breathing had become nearly impossible. Your chest struggling to move evenly. You could bawl, you could vomit, you could faint... But Touya didn't look back, his steps echoing in the room. Time didn't seem to pass anymore. You didn't register your servants running towards you in a hurry, having waited for the villain to leave. You didn't see their worried faces around you, nor hear them calling, panicking as your consciousness abandoned you.

THE LOVE YOU GET IS EQUAL TO THE LOVE YOU GIVE | PART ONE

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!Reader Warnings/Tags: 18+ mdni, aged up characters, arranged marriage, dub con (just in case), body worship, oral + fingering (f!receiving), unprotected sex, edging, overstimulation, creampie, dacryphilia, just a dash of angst Word Count: 6.5k a/n: I’m not certain how many parts there will be, at least 3, maybe 4.  I wanted to get this part out at least before working on my next collab piece though.

Summary: When your parents arrange for you to wed Bakugou Katsuki, you start to actually fall for the brash hero, but no matter how hard you try to please him, you worry he’ll never feel the same for you, and you come to realize you desperately want him to.

Part One // Part Two // Part Three

You were getting married.

You were getting married to one, Bakugou Katsuki—the pro hero, Dynamight.

In reality it was a quirk marriage, but no one dared call it that.  Your parents and his insisted it was because they were worried about your prospective love lives, worried that you’d both end up alone if it were left up to you.  They only had your best interests at heart.

You still didn’t know how you felt about it—no, that was a lie—you were terrified.  You’d heard of Bakugou’s famed hot blooded temper and brooding attitude, and you, you were everything he wasn’t.  

You were meek, quiet, clumsy.  Your confidence was nowhere near as high as his.  Even your quirk, in your opinion, wasn’t all that great—even if your parents seemed to think it would match well with his.  

You had no real domestic skills; you were hopeless when it came to cooking or fixing things, and cleaning wasn’t exactly your strong suite, nor had you ever really excelled at your job either.  What could you offer Bakugou other than your quirk… or your body?  You felt like a piece of meat your parents had offered up to the wolves and it wasn’t fair.

Though, it wasn’t like you had many prospects on your own.  This was probably your only chance. 

The intrusive thought twisted your stomach.  Sure, you’d dated before, but nothing really serious.  Nothing that ever progressed farther than a second date or a one night stand.  In your family’s eyes you would soon be a spinster and they acted, pouncing on the marriage offer without even telling you first.

Keep reading

here r some zukos

⌕ pairing: dad alpha!toji fushiguro x daughter omega!reader

⌕ warnings: BLOODCEST, reader goes into heat, piv sex, use of dad/daddy/papa, kind of subspace-ish but just bc of heat, knotting, toji is guilty as hell, a/b/o stuff like pheromones/scent/slick, toji is a dominant alpha, crying. dead dove do not eat! MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI YOU WILL BE BLOCKED

⌕ word count: 2.7k

MORE A/B/O-TOBER HERE!

This was supposed to be the trip of a lifetime. You and your beloved father had planned this vacation months ago, with the hopes of finally having a full two weeks of father-daughter alone time you two had so desperately been craving recently. Between both of your demanding jobs, respective social lives, and other various responsibilities, you barely even got to see each other anymore, outside of when you both came home at night. It had been a rule that you were to eat dinner together every night, and you had upheld that for a long time, but it had gotten to the point where it was no longer feasible.

So, the solution to missing each other? A two weeklong trip to the beach town of your dreams, at an all-inclusive resort that your wonderful dad had spent months saving every last cent to pay for. He had said it wasn’t right to force his beautiful daughter to pay even a single dime for this trip. It was his gift to you. Your gift to him? Just your presence and love.

To be quite honest, you and your dad had a… less than conventional relationship. Your friends found it odd that you still lived with him even though you were plenty financially stable enough to go out into the world on your own, and would surely have much more freedom in doing so. But you just couldn’t leave your beloved dad. Not when he loved you the way he did, cherished you and pampered and spoiled you at every turn. Who in their right mind would ever give that up? Certainly not you. You made it a point to never mention to others that you still slept in his bed every night, put to sleep by his strong arms wrapped tightly around you as you breathed in each other’s familiar scents.

When planning the vacation, you had made sure to schedule it in a timeframe where you would not be in your heat. They had always been fairly regular, so you had just done the math and planned it for when you’d be in the clear. Toji was more than happy to do so, as he wanted you to enjoy this trip completely uninhibited, especially from something so debilitating as a heat. Toji himself wasn’t too worried – in his older age, his ruts had slowed down pretty significantly, and even then, they weren’t ever severe enough to truly hinder his day-to-day life too much.

To say the vacation was much needed would be a vast understatement. The stress of busy lives had melted off both of your shoulders as you basked in the sun on white sand beaches, calmed by the sound of the waves lapping against the shore and sipping fruity cocktails served in coconuts. At night you’d go out dancing, grinding against each other in a drunken haze amongst people who didn’t know your familial relations. Sure, the age difference was apparent, but they didn’t know Toji was your dad. It was so freeing. And if he had kissed you soft and sweet on the dance floor? That secret would go with you to your graves.

Of course, with your luck, the magic couldn’t last forever. In the afternoon of the fifth day, you had started to feel… odd. Twitchy. A little foggy. Your skin felt hotter than normal, but you chalked it up to too much time in the tropical sun. The strange tingling between your legs was just because of… something. Whatever. Nothing was to ruin the vacation of your dreams, so you’ll ignore, ignore, ignore. No need to pay attention to such silly things.

Until it got worse. You had uncharacteristically asked Toji not to cuddle you to sleep that night, which he found profoundly odd, but your skin felt like it was on fire. The thought of anyone else touching you, even your dad, sounded like hell.

And then… even worse. In the wee hours of the night, you woke up gasping and whining. You felt hot all over, a sheen of sweat coating your body. Everything ached, your head felt fuzzy and sharp at the same time, and you could barely breathe. The worst, though? You were so painfully horny, your cunt throbbing and leaking, it was pure misery. There was no denying it anymore – you were in heat. Immediately, you began to panic. This was not supposed to happen.

The only thing you could think to do in your haze was shake the man next to you awake.

“Dad, daddy, please wake up,” you whined, shaking him by his arm.

“Wha- what it is it, sweetheart? Everything okay?” Toji mumbled gruffly, eyes still closed and clearly still mostly asleep.

“I’m in heat.”You could barely get the words out, speaking suddenly feeling impossible.

That woke him up quickly, lurching up. What? W-what do you mean?”

“Heat,” you repeated. “I-I’m in heat,” you damn near cried.

The heat pooling between your legs was getting more unbearable by the second, groaning as you cupped your hand over your throbbing pussy.

“Why? How? We-we planned around it!” he stuttered, staring at you with wide eyes. It was unmistakable, the presentation – despite never seeing you in one for long, he had witnessed the beginning phase of it multiple times.

What really tipped him off, though was your scent. The whole suite reeked of your sickly-sweet scent, pheromones emanating off your shivering body in droves. To say Toji wasn’t affected by it would be a lie. In fact, he scooted back in the bed to try and escape the potent yet divine odor, but there truly was no escape.

Toji wants to panic, unsure of what to do in this shocking moment, but it’s clear you’d beaten him to it. Hyperventilating and scratching at your skin, the panic of an incident so interruptive really settling in. He had to comfort you, and fast.

“Hey, hey, sweetheart, calm down,” he attempts, gathering you in a tight hug to try and soothe you. “It’s okay, I promise. Daddy’s here.” That was the problem. Only daddy was here – no heat partner in sight. While you had no real partner, you had a few alpha friends who didn’t mind helping you out during your heats to ease the pain. Of course, those same friends were a plane ride away, and it’s not like you could ask the alpha next door if they could knot you.

As his eyes trailed down your body, he gulped when he saw the crotch of your sleep shorts was soaked in slick. Fuck.

Fat crocodile tears ran down your burning cheeks as you sobbed in his arms, and all Toji could do was hug you close and rock you side to side. With you so close to him, he had no choice but to inhale your bleeding scent, and he wishes he could rip his nose off. This is not good.

Resigning himself to the situation at hand, Toji sighed. There’s only one way out of this – unless he just locked you in the suite to suffer through your miserable heat alone.

“Calm down, baby, daddy’s gonna help you, okay? Daddy will help you.”

“R-really?” you sniffled, pulling back to look your dad in the eyes, gauging his sincerity.

“Of course, baby. Daddy’s gonna make you feel all better, okay? No need to worry anymore.”

Saying that Toji had never had thoughts like these about you before would be far, far, from the truth. In fact, he’d lost count of the times he’d jerked off in the shower to the thought of burying his cock so deep inside you, you couldn’t breathe, but he always watched the cum swirl down the drain in shame. And you, the same. Your fingers never felt as good as you’d imagined Toji’s would. Even though you were closer than the average father-daughter duo, the two of you had never crossed that line. At least, not yet.

But now, your brain was so addled by this primal state that the implications of what your father was promising you meant nothing. All you could think about was relief.

Toji gulped. There’s no going back now.

“Lay on your back, baby.”

You quickly do as your told, movements far from graceful as you fell from his arms and stumbled back on the bed. Maybe he could just get away with a quick fingering – maybe that would put you back to sleep for now.

Slithering a hand down your sleep shorts, Toji shivered when he felt how soaking wet you were. Pressing the tip of his ring finger just at the rim of your hole had you whimpering, head falling back against the pillow and gripping his arm tight.

“More, please,” you groaned, eyes screwed shut.

“Okay, sweetheart.”

His ring finger slipped into your hole with shocking ease, absolutely no resistance. Clearly your body was well beyond desperate. The gasp and groan you let out was one of pure desperation and distress. The thick finger inside you surely felt nice, but it was still only one – you needed much more.

“More, more,” you whined, gripping his wrist and attempting to force him further inside you.

Toji’s heart pounded in his chest, dread filling his entire body and chilling his blood as the realization that his fingers would almost certainly not be enough. Even worse, the lethal combination of your scent, slick, and whines sent blood rushing south. Fuck.

A second finger dipped inside you, and he began slowly pumping them in and out of your hole, scissoring his fingers apart in a hopeless attempt filling you up enough to beget enough relief. It was simply futile.

Whines and whimpers filled the suite as you bore down on his fingers, taking it into your own hands to push him further inside you. The arousal churning through your veins was intolerable and it just wasn’t enough.

Throwing your arms around his neck, you yanked him towards you, making him stumble and almost collapse on top of you. Hot, frantic breaths fanned across his face as you pressed your forehead against his, involuntary guttural groans escaping your throat.

“Dad, please,” you begged. “P-put it in.”

His heart stopped, blood running cold at your desperate request. Once you crossed that line, you could never go back. Hearing your pained moans though, was addling Toji’s judgement.

“Honey, I…” he started, fingers still pumping in and out of you in hopes of keeping you slightly satiated. “I don’t know…”

Toji fought hard to maintain his composure, but the fact of the matter was, he was still an alpha - and a dominant one at that. Though middle age had relieved him of some of the more undesirable, undeniable traits of such a label, he was only human. One could only fight biology and primal instinct for so long.

“Fuck it.”

Pulling away his fingers despite your protests, he roughly yanked off your shorts and panties, flinging them off the side of the bed before throwing your legs over his shoulders. Tugging his boxers down just enough to pull out his aching cock, wasting no time at all as he forcefully thrusts into you, bottoming out immediately. Your cries were almost certainly loud enough to be heard outside your room, but neither of you could give less of a fuck.

Guttural groans tumbled out of Toji’s mouth as he basks in the feeling of your tight, wet heat clenching hard around his length, thrashing underneath him. Despite his considerable endowment, you had not a single complaint, your pussy clearly frantic to be filled.

“Daddy!” you cried out, throwing your arms around his neck and panting deeply, chest heaving.

“It’s okay sweetheart,” Toji assured, resting his forehead against yours. “Dad’s got you. It’ll be okay.”

It’s not long before he’s building up a considerable rhythm, fucking you hard and deep as you keened underneath him with a constant stream of whimpers and cries. The wet, sticky sound of skin on skin was sweet music to Toji’s ears, encouraging him to pick up the pace – something you were more than happy about.

The primal alpha instincts in him had him digging his nose deep into your neck just over your scent gland, huffing your potent scent like the sweetest drug, soaking up your pheromones that emanated from you. He wasn’t even aware of the way his own pheromones had mixed with yours, the musky odor clouding your senses. It was like you were made just for him, and he just for you. Your pheromones swirled together and encased the both of you in a blissful bubble of primitive desire and ecstasy.

The sex was messy, sloppy, and uncoordinated, having lost any sort of real rhythm in favor of frantically rutting into you, heavy balls slapping against your ass with every desperate thrust. A tiny voice in the back of Toji’s head, what was left of his rational mind, wondered if maybe your heat had catapulted him into rut, but that was no concern to him in the moment.

All you needed, all he wanted was to satiate your burning desire and arousal, to curb your instinctual need to fuck and be fucked, if only for a little bit.

Wanting to feel you deeper, Toji leaned forward to press your knees to your shoulders, allowing him to bury himself deep in your pussy, his tip kissing your cervix. So caught up in the ecstasy, a familiar yet bygone word escaped your lips.

“Papa!” you exclaimed, throwing your head back and gasping.

Papa. A term you had given up well over a decade ago, indicative of how far gone you were. How you had reverted to nothing but pure instinct, recognizing the man fucking you as what he once, and always would be, to you.

Toji almost came right on the spot. A strangled moan came from his throat, his arousal increasing tenfold.

“Say it again,” he demanded, voice deep and gruff.

There was no need to tell you twice. “Papa! Papa! Papa!” you chanted like a perverted spell, entirely unaware of what you were saying, much less the implications.

And Toji does something he swore he wouldn’t do – without halting his movements, he cupped your cheek and crashed his lips against yours. It was messy, all teeth and tongue and spit, but he could no longer keep himself from kissing his sweet, sweet daughter.

“Papa’s got you, baby,” Toji mutters against your lips, punctuating his words with hard thrusts. “Papa’s gonna make you feel so much better.”

The overstimulation of pheromones, messy kisses, and the hardest fuck you’ve ever had, had you hurtling closer and closer to what you so badly needed.

“Gonna come,” you whined, gripping his cheeks and pulling him in for a sloppy kiss.

That had Toji’s heart racing even faster, scared he’d go into cardiac arrest at this point.

“Come for me, baby,” he encourages, kissing you back. “Come for Papa.”

Your next words yet again brutally took him by surprise.

“Knot me, daddy, please.”

Fuck. How is he supposed to deny that?

As your own orgasm crashed over you like a suffocating wave, screams and moans piercing Toji’s ears, he continued to fuck into your oversensitive pussy deeper and deeper until he began to feel the familiar swelling at the base of his cock. And soon enough, he’s damn near howling as he spills hot, sticky cum into your welcoming cunt, balls spasming as they empty themselves inside you. Neither of you were in the right mind to reckon with the potential consequences of that.

Toji’s thick knot had swelled to full size, stretching to a point that had you whimpering, hugging your dad close.

“Hurts Papa, it hurts,” you whined, tears gathering in your glossy eyes.

Toji quickly kisses the tears away, cradling you as best he could. “I know, sweetheart, I know. It’ll go down soon, okay? And we can get some rest, you and me.”

The alpha was far from prepared for how many more of his knots were in your future.

last night, you had your very first sleepover with katsuki.

it was perfect. no snoring or sleep walking, no blanket hogging, and most importantly—no pro hero work pulling him away in the morning. the only thing that would’ve made it better, is some clarity.

you’re dating katsuki, but it’s not official—he’s not your boyfriend. you wonder if maybe, he’s just not that into you, or perhaps, he just doesn’t have the time. time—something he’s never had enough of, that has to be it, right?

your very first date, it was a two parter, because he was needed elsewhere mid mapo tofu. a few other dates after that were also cut short—maybe he thinks you just don’t know each other well enough yet? is it even possible for someone like him to think that way? whatever the reason, you need to know.

“morning katsuki,” you murmur, shuffling into the kitchen as you pull your sleeves up over your fists. you have a clear goal in mind—but he’s cooking, without a shirt, and suddenly your mission is ten times more difficult. is this what being a pro hero feels like?

“morning,” he mumbles back, glancing up briefly as you lean against the counter.

“what am i to you?” shit, how did that slip out? you could’ve sworn you asked how he slept.

“a fuckin’ headache,” he replies, sliding two glasses out of the cupboard and onto the counter. he opens the fridge, grabbing the carton of apple juice, and the carton of orange juice.

date three, part one—you had a heated debate over which is better, apple or orange. katsuki told you he doesn’t like to chew his damn beverages, and you told him that, believe it or not, they make orange juice without pulp. still, he went on about the bitterness, the acidity, and the horrid oj and toothpaste combo—yet here he is having both in his refrigerator—how odd.

“c’mon, i’m serious,” you urge, watching the liquids cascade into their respective cups.

“so ‘m i.” he nudges your glass towards you, bringing his own up to his lips and chugging it.

“but, i’m in your apartment,” you pause, noticing the way his face contorts into a full on sentence—one that reads yeah, no shit. “i slept in your bed with you, i’m wearing your shirt,” you continue, gesturing to the long sleeve currently swallowing you whole.

“you’re talkin’ my damn ear off too,” he breathes, wiping an arm over his mouth.

by date five, it was obvious that katsuki’s actions spoke louder than his words—which is impressive considering just how loud his words are. puddles lined the streets that evening, courtesy of the afternoon downpour. it was busy, drivers lost in their own little worlds as they drove past—and each and every time, katsuki would angle his body to the right just a bit. he cursed every last one of them who sped by, and he was absolutely miserable by the time you made it off the main roads but, at least you were dry.

“nevermind,” you say, sliding into a chair at the dining table. you’ve decided that, whatever this is—it’s good enough for you.

but it was on date one part two that katsuki knew you were it for him. after running out on you just three nights prior, he was glad you even showed up—but you went one step further. you sat there with that pretty smile on your face. no eye rolls, no guilt trips, and not a single snide remark or complaint. you even offered to pay for the meal—as if he would ever let you do such a thing, but he found it cute nonetheless. so, he owes you this.

“hey,” he barks, causing your head to snap up. the two plates he had set on the counter are full now, he must be done. “you’re mine.”

the look on your face must’ve said it all, because he’s choking back a laugh as he carries your plates over. you’re his? why did he blurt it out so casually? are you missing something?

“oh c’mon,” he huffs, plopping down in the seat next to you. he turns, trailing his eyes up and down your figure. “you slept on my damn side of the bed, in my fuckin’ shirt.”

he gave you this shirt—right before he told you to go wait in bed while he tidied up—how the hell were you supposed to know he has a specific side?

“don’t play dumb,” he pauses, scowl growing as he watches you reach for a piece of food with your bare hands. he grabs your wrist, ushering for you to let him roll your sleeves up—like hell he’s gonna sit back and watch you get his shirt dirty.

he folds the fabric with precision, biting the inside of his cheek in an attempt to hide his smile—but he just can’t.

“y’already know you’re mine.”