Katsuki Bakugou: Doesn’t Let You Ride Him, He’s Too Impatient For That

I fucking love being a brat

Just thinking about the almost immediate and casual switch after he and Bakugo start dating to go from calling him Bakubro to Bakubabe and i actually think I’m in love with that.

katsuki rly would NOT be able to maintain fwb bc he would catch feelings and agonize over it until one day it just all comes spilling out of him. he confesses he can't do it anymore and can't pretend like there's nothing between you. and you just take his face in your hands and go. katsuki. we are grocery shopping together. you hold my hand when you walk me to the train station. you listed me as your emergency contact at the dentist last week. we have been dating for months.

HMMMMM bakugou being just. the absolute picture of sin.

he works overnight and comes home early in the morning, around 3 or 4 am or so, and you greet him and give him a kissy and ask how it all went. and even though it's still dark outside and he's been working for twelve hours—he's still coming off patrol, right ? so he's still got some energy left, and he eats something and takes a shower and winds down as you fall back to sleep.

and it's not until much later in the day that he wakes up, early afternoon, and you're kind of tiptoeing around so that he can get his much-needed rest. you slip into the closet of your bedroom for something and you think you're gonna get in and out without a sound, but his hearing is so attuned to just about anything and everything at this point.

so rough and raspy, he grunts out, "what're y'lookin' for?" and you whip around real fast and he's just—

half sitting up in bed, bare back leaning against the headboard. an arm behind his head, so that his bicep is tense and round and stone-solid. stretched like that, his obliques are more prominent, taut and rippling up the side of his ribcage. he must have gotten hot while passed out, as he usually does, because the comforter is all askew; one of his legs is bent, the fine hair a dark gold in the waning day; the other is hanging off the bed, lightly swinging as he watches you, and the blanket has come down enough that you can see the bulge of his thigh muscles beneath his stupid tiny black boxer briefs.

and he's just so. man. in every single way.

(his hair is flat on one side, too, and his eyes are still a little puffy from sleep—but you think that adds to it, all in all)

kirishima x bakugou x f!reader

summary - you're a shy transfer student who's paired with kirishima for a project, by chance, you meet his boyfriend. porn with not a lot of plot.

a/n - smut, threesome, bakugou and kirishima are both bi and so is reader, college au, quirkless au, praise, degradation, shy reader, sorry for slandering shinsou, unprotected sex, face fucking, impact play, cumplay ig im, i forgot that this was mostly filth when i went to re edit it. repost from my old blog, katsupeach. kirishima and bakugou's heights are described but they're bigger than you, daddy kink, some mild hurt comfort, they like you more than a one night stand isn't that nice.

MINORS DNI - You must have an age visible on your page somewhere to interact with this post.

Being paired with the sunny extroverted football player for your essay project wasn’t your worst nightmare, but only because your subconscious was rarely so creatively cruel. You traced the assignment with your finger, checking again to make sure that it was right. F/N L/N, Kirishima Eijirou. Fuck. You look up, and to your embarrassment, he’s looking over at you, and you make eye contact. He shoots you a bright smile that you attempt to return. Professor Aizawa continues talking about the project, but you’re not listening, you’re too busy wiping your clammy hands on your jeans. You dart out of the classroom, through the hallways, and onto the quad but of course, he catches you. 

“Hey, hey y/n!” Shit. You turn around and there he is, towering over you. 

“Hi.” You say. 

“Do you wanna exchange numbers? Talk about the project?” He grins at you. “You’re a transfer, right? 

“Yeah,” you say quickly. “Don’t worry about the project, I’ll just do it. I don’t mind.” He blinks at you. 

“No, uh, no way,” He sheepishly touches the back of his neck. “I can’t letcha do that, I promise I won’t hold you back.” You swallow nervously. 

“It’s really fine.” You respond, barely audible. He shakes his head. 

“Come on, I won’t be that bad.” He reaches out to touch your upper arm and you flinch from him. “Sorry, I just,” he withdraws his hand, “Let’s get coffee if you don’t have class? On me.” You tuck your hair behind your ears. 

“Oh, um sure.” He leads you to the student union, chattering about the reading, making it so you barely have to fill in the blanks of the conversation. He leans down to you when you get to the barista, 

“Whaddya want, I’ll order for you.” 

“Just a latte.” You say. He moves around you to order, careful not to touch you. 

“She’ll have a latte, and I’ll have a Caramel Frappucino.” He says, smiling gently at you. “Let’s grab a booth, it’ll be quieter.” You let him lead you across the busy student union, holding both of your hot coffees. He’s right, it’s a little quieter in the booth. “Do you have any ideas?” 

“Yeah,” You tuck your hair behind your ears. “I was thinking, maybe um something about, the pre-raphaelites, and how their ultra-realism was a revolution that actually went so hard that it transcended realism to become nonrepresentational.” He blinks at you. 

“Yeah, uh, okay, let’s do that.” You sigh. 

“Just let me do it.” 

“No, no,” he says quickly, “I’m a little behind in the reading, that’s all, I’ll catch up and then I’ll understand. Let’s look now, at one of the paintings, and you can explain it to me.” You take a sip of your coffee and flip to a page in your three hundred dollar textbook, complete with glossy colored pictures. 

“This is Ophelia, by John Edwin Millais.” He looks at the pale woman lying in the reeds. 

“Oh shit, is she dead?” You swallow. 

“Yeah, of course, she is, she’s Ophelia.” He looks sheepish. “From Hamlet. She pretty famously dies.” He looks even more sheepish. 

“Uh, okay.” He puts his palms up. “Tell you what, I will catch up on the reading. I will. And then we can divide up work, and get started. I will not be the mean jock that makes you do this yourself. I refuse.” 

“Frankly that’s more honor than I expected from you.” He laughs, touching the back of his neck. 

“Jeez. Sorry that my fellow athletes did ya so dirty. Scouts honor, I won’t leave you high and dry.” He’s oozing sincerity. You don’t trust it. 

“Okay.” He raises his eyebrows and then straightens. 

“It doesn’t matter if you believe me now. I’m gonna prove it.” He looks down at the textbook. “Okay, she’s dead, keep explaining.” 

“So she’s dead, but look at all the flowers around her. Her death is a tragedy, and it’s considered one of the most eloquent descriptions of death in literature.” 

“Ooh,” Kirishima takes his phone out. “Let me google it. What’s it from again?” You smile nervously. 

“It’s Lady Gertrude’s speech, from Hamlet.” He squints at his screen. 

“Wait, what language is this in?” You laugh a little despite yourself. 

“English,” you say, “give it here, I’ll demonstrate.” He hands you his phone, it’s cool and heavy in your hands. “No case?” 

“I don’t drop things.” He says, a hint of pride in his voice. You laugh, genuinely. 

“There, on the pendant boughs her coronet weeds, Clamb'ring to hang, an envious sliver broke,” your voice is low, Kirishima leans in across the table to hear what you’re saying. “When down her weedy trophies and herself, Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide,” He feels a blush creep onto his cheeks, there’s something almost sensual about the music of your words. “Which time she chanted snatches of old tunes, As one incapable of her own distress,” Kirishima’s breath hitches in his throat. 

“Oh,” he interrupts you, “Oh I get it.” You nod. “Wait but please don’t stop.” He begs. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. Go on.” You give him a small smile. 

“Or like a creature native and endued unto that element. But long it could not be

till that her garments, heavy with their drink, pulled the poor wretch from her melodious lay, to muddy death.” He sighs with happiness. 

“Wow.” He breathes. “Reading Shakespeare doesn’t feel like that.” 

“That’s because he wrote plays,” you explain, “And plays, like poetry, were always meant to be experienced as spoken word entertainment rather than read.” He nods vigorously. 

“That makes so much sense!” He grins, still leaning rather close to you across the table. 

“Oi, shitty hair!” Someone snarls and you jump, gasping in surprise. “And what the fuck is wrong with you?” Bakugou Katsuki, loud, brash, and Quarterback of the football team leans over your table. You shrink from him. 

“Bakugou!” Kirishima chastizes. “You can’t snap at people like that. You scared the shit out of her, I just got her to start talking to me.” He shakes his head. “Y/n, I’m sorry, this is my boyfriend.” You blink in surprise. “Yeah, we’re both bi.” He confirms, fielding your expression with expert precision. Bakugou elbows his way next to Kirishima in the booth, dropping his textbooks. “Y/n was just reading me some Shakespeare for context on this.” He points to the Millais, your textbook still lying open. 

“That Ophelia?” He asks you and you nod. “So you were reading him Lady Gertrude’s speech.” You blink at him. “Yeah, we’re not all fuckin’ idiots.” He says, hitting Kirishima lightly on the back of the head. “But go ahead, I want to hear it.” 

“Oh um,” your face burns. “I was done. I mean it’s a short passage.” 

“Something else then,” he grins, “I like to watch him struggle.” Kirishima swats at his boyfriend, who dodges and smiles. You hand him his phone back.

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea.” You say and he narrows his eyes, and scrolls through his phone. 

“Shitty hair we’ll give you somethin’ easy, just tell us what this means.” 

“Why can’t you read it?” You say a little annoyed and he grins. 

“You’ll see.” He selects something on his phone and then hands it to you. 

“Oh.” You say, a scowl forming on your lips, seeing Katherine’s monologue. “You want me to read the Shakespearean equivalent of yes sir, I would be happy to make you that sandwich?” 

“What?” Kirishima blinks. Bakugou looks like he’s about to speak but you cut him off. 

“Kirishima look at me.” He does. “This was the first thing we were supposed to read in this course. Have you done any of the reading for this class?” Kirishima goes bright red, shrinking nervously from Bakugou. 

“Shitty hair?” Bakugou growls. “Skippin’ out on the reading, huh?” You raise your eyebrows and start to gather your things. Kirishima buries his face in his hands. 

“Wait,” you stop and look at him, you’d already stood to make your escape. “Please help me study, please help me catch up.” He eyes Bakugou. “He’s the meanest tutor, and I feel like you wouldn’t be.” You sigh. 

“Kirishima, we’re not even friends.” You reach for your coffee but he looks so hurt that you pause. Bakugou snorts. 

“Never thought I’d see the day where it took you more than five minutes to make friends with someone,” he eyes you, “What’s your deal? You’re a transfer, right?” Your hands shake a little as you respond. 

“Yep.” It could be your imagination, but for a fraction of a second, Bakugou’s eyes flick to your hands before moving back to your face, softening a little. 

“Please.” Kirishima says, taking a step forward. “I’ll do something for you, anything.” You sigh, looking away. “I’ll introduce you to all our friends!” he offers. “You don’t know anyone, right?” 

“And I like it that way.” You counter and that gets a genuine laugh out of Bakugou. “I’ll tutor you, though,” you offer, “On one condition.” Kirishima nods, and you sit back down. “I will make every decision about this project.”  

“That’s fine!” He says brightly. “Thank you, thank you so much.” Bakugou clears his throat, you’re still holding his phone. 

“Actually,” you say, “This is an ok place to start.” You turn the phone to Kirishima on the table who shakes his head. 

“Read it to me, please, please it sounds so much better.” You massage your temples, watching Bakugou smirk. 

“Fie, fie, unknit that threatening unkind brow, And dart not scornful glances from those eyes, To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor.” You say, not sure where to look. 

“Ok, so don’t question your boss.” Kirishima says, “Got it.” 

“Not quite.” You say. “Very sweet of you to immediately strip the clearly gendered terminology from this passage.” Bakugou knocks shoulders with his boyfriend. 

“Try again.” He motions for you to continue. 

“It blots thy beauty as frosts do bite the meads, Confounds thy fame as whirlwinds shake fair buds, And in no sense is meet or amiable. A woman mov’d is like a fountain troubled- Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty.” 

“Oh.” Kirishima says. “This is about, uh, like, when women aren’t sweet they’re ugly?” You nod, smiling. 

“Yeah, that’s as decent interpretation. Think about the words, a woman moved is like a fountain troubled, women who have strong emotion or even rational thought that’s being read as emotion due to a sexist lense, has as much value as a fountain that’s broken, spewing mud. Think about that metaphor.” Kirishima’s brow furrows. 

“I don’t like this. I love it when women aren’t sweet.” Then he smiles at you. “‘Course, if they wanna be, that’s fine by me.” You hand Bakugou his phone back. 

“I’m finished debasing my gender for your entertainment.” You say to the blonde, and scribble something down on a scrap of paper. “I’m free Saturday afternoon, this is my number, text me if you want to be tutored.”  

_______

On Friday night, you’re curled up with a mug of hot chocolate and your favorite show, with a soft blanket, happily alone in your single. You get a text from Kirishima. 

Kirishima: hey! We’re having a movie night. Wanna come over?

You: I’m good, thanks 

Kirishima: come on, what are you doing?

You: watching Jane the Virgin

Kirishima: alone or am I interrupting a netflix and chill session

You: aaaaaaaaa i like being alone it’s fine 

You toss your phone aside, ignoring it’s incessant buzzing, watching Jane pick out a wedding dress, tearing up when her father shows up. You have a moment where you genuinely struggle with the desire to respond, grappling with your own social anxiety before choosing the comfort of being alone. There’s a soft knock at the door. You throw a zip up hoodie on over your tank top. 

“Hey,” There’s a guy standing in the hallway with dark hair. You don’t recognize him. “I’m Shindou, your next door neighbor.” You shrug. 

“Hi, can I help you?” You can smell the alcohol on his breath, he runs his fingers through his hair.. 

“Can I come in?” He asks, smiling brilliantly. You shake your head. 

“No thanks,” you lean against the doorframe. “What’s up?” He takes a step near you. 

“You can um,” he says, smiling sheepishly, “I was hoping I could come in.”  He’s swaying a little. 

“Nope,” you try and close the door but he wedges an elbow into it, catching the door frame in a large hand.

“I would like you to leave.” You say, with as much firmness as you can muster. 

“Don’t be like that, sweetheart.” He says, smiling, “Come on, don’t be a bitch about this,” 

“Don’t be a bitch about what?” A familiar voice growls from down the hallway.

“Just leave.” You say, pleading, trying again to close the door on him but he shoves his way in, stumbling drunk. You jump out of the way but he knocks into you, and you slam against the chest of drawers next to your door, the air rushing from your lungs. Strong hands pull  him back though, as you catch yourself before he can hit the ground. You see Bakugou slam him against a wall. 

“Walk it the fuck off.” Bakugou snarls, before turning his attention to you. “Text Kirishima back. You’re hurting his feelings.” He says, before registering your face, how shaken you are. “Oh shit, don’t fuckin’ cry.” Your hands shake, hard. 

“W-what are you doing in my building?” You ask. He blinks at you. 

“I live here.” He points to the black garbage bag he put down to grab Shindo. “That guys an asshole. Stay away from him.” You nod and he sighs, looking away. “Fine.” He pushes his way into your room, and before you can say anything he’s wrapping his arms around you. “Shh, or shut up or somethin’, okay?” You bury your face in his neck, it does feel nice, to be held. He lets you go after about a minute. “Come on. Movie night.” 

“I don’t-” 

“Did that sound like a fuckin’ invitation to you?” He snarls. “Because I meant it like a goddamn order.” You nod, sniffling a little. He waits for you while you pick up your phone and slip into some shoes. 

“Gonna uh,” he says, “Gonna put pants on?” You turn beet red and lift the end of your long hoodie to reveal the shorts you were wearing, he looks almost disappointed. “Come on then, we don’t have all damn night.” You grab your room key and phone and follow him down the hallway to the garbage shoot, and then up to his room. He lived on the fourth floor, and his room had slanted ceilings that were covered with posters. There’s a small crowd gathered on an array of beanbag chairs, and the small dorm room was spotless. Kirishima’s face lights up. 

“You came!” He says, getting up and giving you a quick hug. 

“Some fuckin’ asshole tried to barge into her room.” Bakugou growls. “Dick.” Kirishima’s eyes widen. 

“Who?” He says to Bakugou. Bakugou rolls his eyes. 

“Shindo, who the fuck else?” Kirishima’s jaw tightens for a second before turning to the group, snatching a remote and pausing the movie. 

“Hey! This is y/n. She’s really nice so try not to scare her off.” They introduce you to their friends, Denki, Mina, and Sero. “She’s a transfer.” They greet you, someone hands you a drink and you settle in an empty bean bag chair. Kirishima sits next to you, his face a little flushed. 

“Hey,” He says quietly. “Did you read my texts or did Bakugou just spirit you up here to make me happy?” You blink at him. 

“Um I didn’t read them.” you confess. “I just, people make me so nervous.” He nods. 

“I can tell.” He looks away. “I was pretty excited to be partnered with you. I uh, I’ve missed everything we were supposed to be learning in class because I keep staring at you.” 

“You’re drunk.” You say and he shrugs. 

“Catch up.” You hit him lightly on the back of the head, 

“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” He laughs and slips an arm around you. 

“We have an understanding.” He leans over, “And honestly I think he likes you too.” You make a decision and down your drink quickly, then settle into the crook of his arm. He moves you, so that you’re flush against his side. You look around nervously but Sero and Mina are full on making out and ignoring the movie, Denki’s fallen asleep. You feel his breath on your ear and your neck erupts in goosebumps. “Can I get you another drink?” You nod, face burning. You turn your face and meet his eyes, for just a moment. “Hey, Bakugou, can you pass me that?” Kirishima points to the half empty bottle of vodka. You’d almost forgotten the blonde. Bakugou is lying on his bed, but he gets up, grabbing it and a plastic bottle of fruit juice. He sits down slowly on the other side of the beanbag chair with a grunt, taking your red plastic cup from you and dumping the rest of the cranberry juice in it. Kirishima gets on his side, resting his head in one of his palms. You mimic his movements, snuggling into his hard chest. Bakugou rolls his eyes and pours less than one shot into your cup. You pout.

“What? You don’t need more to drink.” He grumbles. You take the cup from him, and sip it. 

“This is basically just juice!” You complain and you feel Kirishima groan softly as you push up a little on the beanbag chair to get closer to Bakugou, inadvertently pressing your ass against his crotch. He takes one of your hips in his huge hand, reaching under your hoodie, fingers digging into your soft flesh. 

“I said you don’t need any more to drink.” Bakugou snaps. “I’ve got half a goddamn mind to take that from ya,” he eyes the cup, “And just get you both water.” Kirishima’s hand travels up under your hoodie, pushing your tank top up to rest on your waist. You give Bakugou your best, brattiest smile, and tip the cranberry juice drink into your mouth, chugging it and then handing him your empty cup. He smiles evilly and cocks his head to one side. “Brat. You’ll pay for that.” You shrug, feeling Kirishima start to rub circles into your skin, to draw your body closer to his.

“You should be nicer to him.” Kirishima says, as Bakugou climbs onto the beanbag chair, laying down and facing you. He watches your face carefully as Kirishima’s hand moves lower, under the elastic band of your shorts. You can feel his swelling erection rubbing against your ass. “He calls the shots around here, baby.” He parts your folds with two fingers and you feel your face warm as he drags his fingers lazily across your slit. He presses gently, experimentally, on your clit and your mouth drops open, sucking a sharp breath. 

Bakugou’s lips crash down on yours, muffling the sweet hiccuping moan that would have escaped your lips as Kirishima starts to circle your clit with one calloused hand. His kiss is hot, searing, and he swipes your lips with his tongue before slipping it between them, keeping you quiet in the darkness as the others watch the movie intently. He guides you carefully, cupping your face in expert hands, while Kirishima locks your body against his with one arm wrapped under your ribs, and tortures you with the other. 

“She’s so wet.” He whispers. “When’s the last time anyone touched you, baby?” He coos. Of course you don’t answer, you can’t, as he dips a finger into your aching core, and you bite down hard on Bakugou’s lip. You taste blood and the blonde pulls away from you, something wild in his eyes. You get out half a gasp before his mouth is back on yours, this time he reaches for your body, you hear your hoodie unzip. He reaches under your sweatshirt, palming your breasts, grunting softly. You hold onto his arms, digging little half moons in the contours of his bicep. 

“You’re so fuckin’ soft.” He says into your mouth. “Gonna be a good girl and stay quiet for me?” You nod, Anything, anything as long as Kirishima didn’t stop fucking you with his fingers, pressing against that one bundle of nerves in a way that was making your eyes roll and your face hot. You can feel him grinding his hard cock against your ass. Bakugou lifts your tank top over your shirt and pulls your breasts out of your bra. “Nice tits.” He groans, before taking a nipple in his mouth and sucking hungrily. 

“She’s gonna cum.” Kirishima warns, and it’s true you can feel that tight coil in your stomach, feel the muscles in your thighs tense, as you near your release. To your dismay, Bakugou chuckles. 

“Nah, she doesn’t need it yet.” He moves back up into your eyeline. “In case you’re too stupid to understand that, you’re not allowed to cum yet, got it.” You meet his intense gaze and he rolls his eyes and covers your mouth with his free hand. “I wanna see you fuckin’ cry for it.” You flex your feet, squirming against Kirishima as you reach our and hold onto Bakugou’s muscled forearms. You feel his breath, hot on your ear. “C’mon bitch.” He growls. “I said I wanted to see you cry.” Kirishima drags his thrumb roughly across your clit and you nearly lose it, screwing up your face in concentration. 

“Aw,” Kirishima coos. “She wants to be a good girl so bad, Katsuki.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “You’re doing so well, baby.” Bakugou grabs your jaw roughly, holding it so tightly that you’re forced to part your lips, panting like a dog. Your eyes start to water, it hurts, it hurts so badly, you just want to cum, you’ll do anything, you’re desperate for it. Your lower lip trembles as the first tear rolls down your cheek, disappearing into the fabric of the beanbag chair. 

“Harder.” Bakugou orders, and you can see him palming his cock with his free hand through his pants. For a second you think he’s talking to you but when Kirishima picks up the pace you realize you were wrong, he watches you tremble. “You look fucking pathetic.” He snarls. “What would you give me, to cum, right now?” 

“Anything.” You breathe, eyes watering. “Anything you wanted.” He grins again, that same wildness in his eyes before he spits in your open mouth. 

“Swallow.” He commands, still speaking lowly enough so that his friends, apparently incredibly stoned, can’t here. “Then cum for me, bitch.” You release the coil you’d been holding and your whole body spasms as wave after wave of pleasure hits you, Kirishima carefully carries you through your high. You’re vaguely aware, on some level, of how you’re gushing around his fingers, of his little groan,

“Shit, she clenches so hard when she cums.” Kirishima breathes. Bakugou’s mouth is pressed against yours, muffling the desperate moan that comes from deep within you. Your hands shake as you grab fistfuls of his t-shirt and hold on for dear life. When your vision clears you’re on your back between the two men. Kirishima is brushing the hair softly off your forehead, and Bakugou is pressing a surprisingly soft kiss to your cheek. “Is your room empty, baby?” Kirishima asks and you nod, unable to speak yet. “Should we go there?” You nod again and try to stand, feeling how sticky your shorts have become, the drying slick on your thighs. 

“Wait!” Kirishima says and your knees give out. Bakugou catches you easily, lifting you in his arms and rolling his eyes. 

“Don’t try and walk after cumming like that, stupid.” He says, shaking his head. They walk down to  your empty dorm room, where when they flick the lights on, your long forgotten mug of hot chocolate is on the window sill, probably ice cold. 

“This is so cute!” Kirishima coos. “You know I’ve had a crush on you all semester.” He smoothes out  your baby blue comforter. “It’s not exactly how I’ve imagined it, but it’s so you.” Bakugou deposits you on the bed. 

“Knew there was a reason you had no fuckin’ clue what was happening in that class.” He looks at you. “When you can talk again he’s gonna need a goddamn tutor, so I hope we didnt fuck anything in there,” he taps your forehead, “up permanently.”  Kirishima looks sheepish and Bakugou continues. “But if you’re not talkin’ I can think of much better uses for your mouth.” You nod, and clear your throat with a high pitched grunt. 

“You uh,” you look at Kirishima. “You like me?” 

“I may or may not have begged the professor to pair us together for this project.” You giggle. 

“Oi, sorry,” Bakugou snaps. “I meant suck my fuckin’ dick.” You flush, embarassed, he sits on your chair, unzipping his pants and putting one of your pillows at his feet. “Crawl.” He says pointing lazily at his feet. You slip all the way out of your hoodie before obliging. 

“She’s really so good,” Kirishima coos, “I knew that attitude was all an act, right, baby, you just wanna make us feel good, right?” You barely hear him, Bakugou’s taken his dick out of his pants and there’s no other word for it, it’s pretty. Long and thick, the head a deep pink and dripping with precum. 

“Yeah.” You say softly, before taking the tip of him in your mouth, giving it a little kitten lick to clean the precum off of it before taking as much of it as you can, drooling sloppily on his lap. He groans. 

“Fuck, yeah princess, just like that,” He catches your eyes, “Love the way your lips look on my fat fuckin’ cock, look up at me, like that.” He looks up, putting one hand on the back of your head, setting a pace for you, forcing you just a little farther with each thrust. “What are you waiting for, shitty hair?” He growls. “Just gonna watch?” Kirishima runs his fingers through his hair and glances at Bakugou’s hands, tangled in your hair, “Awww,” Bakugou makes the sweetest sound his gravel allows, “You were waiting for permission, like a good boy.” Kirishima nods. 

“Y-yes, sir.” He says. 

“Take her shorts off.” Bakugou orders, leaning back in your fold up chair, the canvas groaning.” You lovinging flick  your tongue over the underside of his cock. He pulls you back off of him though and speaks, “Green means go, yellow means slow down, red means stop. If you tap me,” He says, tapping his own thigh, in case you were too stupid to understand that, “I will stop. Understand?” You nod. “Say it.” He says gruffly. 

“I understand.” You say, and he reaches down, parting your soft lips with his thumb. You suck it hungrily and he smiles when you scrape your teeth against the pad of his finger. 

“Get back to work.” He orders, and you do, taking as much of him as you can, concentrating on keeping your throat relaxed, swelling with pride at every little groan you elicit from his mouth. Kirishima kneels behind you, letting out a soft whine as he rubs the head of his cock against your slit. 

“She’s so wet,” Kirishima moans, ‘Can, can I please fuck her, please?” Bakugou takes his eyes off yours for a moment, not releasing the back of your head. 

“Have you been a good fuckin’ boy?” He asks huskily. Kirishima nods emphatically. “Hmmm,” Bakugou rumbles, closing his eyes in pleasure as you drool on his cock. “What do you think,” he grabs you by the hair and pulls you off his dick, “Want him to fuck you?” You turn around and look at him, and gasp a little. He’s so big, the biggest you’ve ever seen, wide and long, at least 8 inches, purple tipped and dripping with precum. He’s pumping himself slowly. You turn back to Bakugou. 

“I-Is it gonna hurt, daddy?” You ask, the title slipping from your lips like water. Bakugou’s dick twitches in front of your face. 

“He can go slow, for you,” Bakugou growls, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Make sure she’s prepped dumbass.” He nods at Kirishima, and you move to keep sucking Bakugou’s cock but he catches your face. “I wanna watch you take it.” He says gruffly, savoring the way your eyes widen at the pressure, and then the stretch, and then the pain, as Kirishima gently eases inside of you. He waits to move until he hears your sharp little gasp, your mouth dropping open and saliva dribbling down your chin. Bakugou grins, taking the chance to force himself back in your mouth, focusing on his own orgasm now, grabbing a fistful of your hair and setting his own pace. This time it’s impossible to relax, if you could concentrate on anything it would be the pleasant pain of Kirishima rutting his huge cock against your soft walls, but Bakugou forces your head all the way up his length, so that your nose is pressed to the blonde tuft of hair at his stomach. 

“Fuck,” Kirishima says harshly, “She got even tighter when you did that,” he picks up the pace a little and you see stars. Bakugou starts fucking your throat in earnest now, groaning, fingers tearing through your hair. 

“Take it, bitch,” He growls, when he sees your eyes start to water as  you gag, “Fuck yeah, baby just like that, you like this?” He looks at Kirishima, blushy and glossy eyed as he snaps his hips against your ass. “You like gettin’ fuckin’ spitroasted like some dirty fuckin’ whore, huh?” There’s no way for you to respond, not with your jaw aching, not as his thrusts become erratic and he slams himself all the way down your throat again. You feel him start to explode in your throat, but then he pulls out, coating your face in his cum and leaning back in  your chair. “Good girl,” he breathes while you gag and sputter, “Good fuckin’ girl.” He sighs heavily. “You look so good like this, daddy’s desperate little slut, arentcha?”

“Y-yes daddy.” You say with the first lungful of sweet air you’re able to get. “Oh god,” you choke out as Kirishima starts going even faster, hitting your g-spot with every thrust, hitting every spot, even now, it hurt a little, he was so, so big. Bakugou leans forward and pushes down on your shoulders so that you’re down on your elbows, forcing your back into a harsher arch. With nothing to muffle your sounds they spill from your lips like water, “K-kirishima,” you moan, and he laughs, slapping your ass lightly. 

“So what, he’s daddy and I’m Kirishima?” 

“Sounds right to me.” Bakugou says threateningly, from your chair, reaching out to brush the hair out of your face, surprisingly gently. “Do you want to cum again, bitch?” He asks and you nod vigourously. “Use your words.” He snaps. 

“Yes, daddy, wanna cum please.” You look up at him, eyes wide. 

“Do you deserve to cum?” He asks and you nod without thinking. 

“Please, please let me, I’ll, I’ll do whatever you want I-” The words come out of your mouth so quickly that he laughs at you. 

“So fuckin’ eager to please,” He taunts, “You wanna be a good girl so badly, don’t you, just wanna be daddy’s good slut?” 

“F-fuck.” Kirishima groans, kneading at your ass, grabbing your hips and fucking you butally, your knees give out, “She got so tight when you said that, keep going, please,” he begs, 

“You like when I tell you you’re a slut huh?” Bakugou rasps, grinning at your stupid fucked out expression, “You look so good covered in my cum, bitch, such a good little cocksleeve, just a sweet little cunt on legs.” Kirishima reaches down and pinches your clit between two fingers and  you keen, “You can cum, cocksleeve.” Bakugou orders and Kirishima rakes his nails down your back as you come undone beneath him with a soft cry, a choked sob. 

“I’m close.” Kirishima whines, “Where should I-” 

“On her.” Bakugou says. “I wanna see my pretty little bitch covered in our cum.” You look up at that. “That’s right, baby, you’re my fucking bitch now.” Kirishima pulls out, his hot release spurting all over your back as your whole body trembles. Kirishima collapses on the floor next to  you but Bakugou reaches into his pocket, grabs his phone and snaps a picture. “You look so good all fucked out.” He says. “Don’t move, dumbasses.” He gets up, fixing his pants and then leaves. You hear your door close and turn your head to Kirishima. 

“Hi.” You say very quietly. He smiles at you. 

“You okay?” You nod. “We’ll take good care of you.” He coos, “Aftercare is important. He’s right, by the way, you look so fucking good like this.” He takes you in, swollen lips, and glossy eyes, watery black lines on your cheeks from the last remnants of your eye makeup. He reaches over, dipping two fingers into the cum on your back and then pushing them between your lips. You lick them clean and he beams at you. “Such a good girl!” You warm with pride at the praise. You hear the door open and Bakugou comes back. He squats beside you. 

“C’mere.” He grunts, carefully, gently wiping your face with a warm washcloth, and when your face is clean he kisses your forehead and hands the towel to Kirishima, who cleans off your back. He cups your face in both of his hands. 

“Good girl.” Bakugou says gruffly. “Gonna lie down with us, let us take care of ya a little?” You nod and Bakugou climbs into your twin bed, flattening himself against the wall. Kirishima lifts you, laughing at your humiliating attempt at walking. 

“You might have a limp tomorrow.” He says brightly. “But maybe not! Not everyone does.” Bakugou takes your body, angling it against his, and Kirishima lies down, facing the two of you, giving Bakugou a sweet tender kiss before throwing his phone at the lightswitch, effectively engulfing the room in darkness. 

“That better not have broken your shit, dumbass.” Bakugou grumbles, as Kirishima slips a leg in between yours. “You got a case for your shit yet?” Kirishima freezes. 

“Oh fuck,” he yawns, “Oops. Set an alarm for me?” Bakugou nods. “You okay?” Kirishima asks you again, scrutinizing  your face. 

“Yeah,” you sigh happily. “Tired.” 

“Go to sleep.” Bakugou says. “Both of you. It’s late as fuck.” You close your eyes, focusing on the soft breathing of the two men holding you, feeling safe, and warm and comfortable. 

It’s much, much later when you stir. You’re sleeping on top of Bakugou’s chest and Kirishima is spooning you, with his face buried in his boyfriend’s neck. There’s a knocking at your door. 

“Hey,” you hear, “Hey, you up, I know you’re in there.” You move a little and Bakugou is awake immediately, anchoring you to his chest with one arm. 

“Someone’s here?” You whisper. “I don’t know.” Kirishima gets up  and rubs his eyes. 

“I’ll check it out.” He opens the door in his boxers. “Oh, hey Shindo?” 

“I-is, y/n there?” Kirishima grins. 

“Yeah, but it’s 3AM. She’s real tired, if you get my drift.”

“Fuck you.” Shindou spits, slamming the door in Kirishima’s face, he bursts out laughing. 

“Shut the fuck up.” Bakugou growls, shifting you to the far side of his chest and reaching an arm out for Kirishma. “Do you know what goddamn time it is?” He pulls the slightly larger boy into him. “She’s gotta tutor you tomorrow.” Kirishima sighs with happiness. 

“Then we gotta take her on a real date.” You open your eyes. “Wanna go to olive garden?” 

“No.” You and Bakugou say at the same time. “Go the fuck to sleep!” 

if u enjoyed this fic please consider reblogging/leaving me a comment! It helps me know what people like so i know what to write more of <3

"my child is fine" your lonely-ass child has spent so much time maladaptively daydreaming about a nonexistent romantic partner that they've imagined almost every possible scenario and will never be satisfied with any partner in real life because no one will ever compare to their fictional significant other and anyone who could will take too long to reach a level of trust and intimacy that will satisfy their agonizing desire to love and be loved

He is so sweet and manly it hurts!

kirishima manhandles you so easily without trying. just moves you out of the way with his hands on your hips, picks you up and places you on ledges, sweeps your legs out from under you to carry you bridal style, drags you to the edge of the bed by your thighs, gets you from sitting on his face to lying on your back in a motion so quick and fluid it has your head spinning. and i don’t think he really knows he’s doing it, it’s not like he even has to think about it, it’s natural for him to throw you around like a ragdoll with how strong he is — one day you tell him you love the way he manhandles you and he’s like “i… manhandle you???”

sorry I’ve been on such a Dabi high lately but I almost croaked earlier at the thought of being his college gf and just being so opposite of each other!!!!!! you’re all good grades and perfect attendance, easily approachable and sweet smiles. and he’s all grumpy faced and dark clothing, makes people nervous whenever he stands outside smoking right by the doors.

who the hell would’ve thought you two would end up together? it just didn’t make a lick of sense seeing you two from the outside. but when they get a glimpse of you guys together, alone, everything just falls into place.

he’s so supportive of everything you do, no matter how dumb or nerdy he thinks it is. he keeps count of your stitches for you when you crotchet, doesn’t mind being your model for a cropped hot pink sweater you’re creating, wears the knitted beanie around campus that you made for him. he hates not having your attention but he takes some of the same classes you take so that he can help you study, quiz you when you’re not too sure of the subject, maybe even help you cheat if you want (you don’t, but he always offers).

he buys you your favorite drink at the cafes and always carries an extra laptop charger in case you forget. he helps you pick out your outfits when you’re unsure, and loves the opposite aesthetic whenever you stand hand in hand with him. he praises you when you succeed, and comforts you with your failures. he looks like a dirtbag that hangs around campus to be a creepy bum, but he’s there for you through and through <3

different types of kisses-> ft JJK MEN

╰┈➤ ( gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento )

╰┈➤ warnings : ( smut, kissing, grinding, humping, face slapping, lingerie, hair tugging, praise kink, light choking, breeding mention. )

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GOJO SATORU -> ‘the pervy kisser’

Gojo kisses you in the dirtiest most desperate way. His kisses sloppy and desperate as his tongue licks at your soft lips before licking down your neck with haste. All while his hands grab at your plush hips so he can grind his bulge against your inner thighs like a bitch in heat. He makes sure to leave you as breathless as he is, praising you for your pretty noises while his cock painfully aches in his boxers. He purrs his praises out while his lips stay at your neck and collar bone, sucking and licking at your sensitive skin, making sure to cover you in his hickeys. At last he finally snaps and tears off your shirt, his hands grabbing at your bra and ripping it off as well before he sucks at your tits sloppily, spit dripping down his chin as he motorboats you. Sooner or later gojo simply just loses patience and snakes his hand to your skirt and lazily rips it off before reaching your panties and discarding those too. Whispering promises against your skin to buy you more clothes while his lips stay latched to your nipples, sucking them and grinning as his sexy eyes look up to meet your own lust filled ones looking down at him. ☆

GETO SUGURU -> ‘the needy kisser’

Geto always begins his kisses at your jawline, trailing his lips along your jaw before finally connecting with your mouth. His lips sucking at yours as he snakes his hands into your hair and grips it a little, pushing your face closer to his to add more passion to the kiss. He begs a lot, groaning out a “pretty girl” as well as a few mumbles of “princess”. Geto is always vocal, letting you know how much he likes you. Especially when his hands run down your spine before tracing the middle of your lower back. His eyes hazy as his lips stay connected to yours. Make-out sounds filling the room as his hands reach down to cup your ass. You pull away for breath for a moment only to be met with a harsh slap delivered to your cheek and a grumble from geto, his displeasure from you pulling away evident as he tugs your hair back and litters kisses over your exposed neck. “don’t fucking move” he orders as his fingers slide into your panties. ☆

NANAMI KENTO -> ‘the sensual kisser’

Nanami presses soft kisses to your cheeks and forehead before slowly wrapping his large hand around your throat, groans leaving his lips as he listens to your noises. Nanami presses his lips to yours, his other hand reaching up to cup your cheek, his eyes still open as you two maintain eye contact for a moment. You whimper and nanami eats that shit up, letting out a low grunt as he presses his crotch to yours, backing you against a wall and kissing your jaw, his hand still wrapped around your pretty neck. He feels embarrassed at how horny you’re making him feel simply by allowing him to choke you softly. He sighs and releases your neck, pressing kisses to the soft bruising he left behind before picking you up bridal style and carrying you to your shared bedroom for him to breed you. ☆

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╰┈➤ authors note - i took an extraordinarily long break as we are all very aware. im not gonna guarantee me being consistent from this point forward cuz that would just be me lying out my ass. anyways, hope y’all enjoyed and aren’t too annoyed that i showed up with smut and dicks instead of a continuation of the gojo fic ( ✌︎'ω')✌︎ ☆

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Why am I suddenly so into hockey

A rambling that adds more detail to this post about hockey players Izuku and Katsuki.

It doesn't help that you're the coach's pretty little daughter of one of the best hockey teams. At every home game and nearly every away game, you're there behind the plexiglass, insisting you buy your own tickets even when your dad can get you in for free. But occasionally you'll take his offer of a free game although it usually comes with the stipulation of being shoved into one of the manager's polo's, given a clipboard, and since this happened to be an away game you'd be forced to sit on the rowdy bus for the three hour drive.

But you really wanted to watch the championship and your paycheck came in too late when the rival match finals were FINALLY announced, it didn't help that the tickets were sold out in seconds!

So you'll stand by Daddy dearest trying to look important just behind the bench inside the cramped box the team will sit in while they wait to come on and off the ice. The team of course had to arrive early and since this was an away game, you had to look every bit the part of staff as everyone else. Which meant you too had to be in the locker room while the men stripped themselves with ease. Snarling and shoving playfully in the pre game excitement, arguing over who moved who's helmet and “where the fuck are we gonna eat after we win tonight?!”

Some of them speaking lewdly off their latest piece of ass and how Bakugou “had her barkin like a bitch in heat.” Before a chorus of laughs is shared sided from a hissed “Kacchan!” followed by a rough shove into metal lockers.

It isn't until they're all pulling on their jerseys on does your dad clear his throat. Giving the speech of the century but it half falls on deaf ears. Your cheeks burn as you feel every eye on you as if they only just now realized you'd been there the whole time but two men in partial catch your eye.

Izuku, beat red under his freckles, brows furrowed as if he's embarrassed he had such a dirty mouth in front of a lady. Embarrassed of the ‘locker room talk’ and how your tight pair of jeans has his cock twitching at the thought of you barking like a bitch in heat. His gloved hand comes to grip at the nape of his neck but it does little to quell the drunken gaze he gives you, his heated cheeks morphing into pure lust. Emerald eyes slipping around the room and when he sees Todoroki staring too intently at you his glare becomes deadly. Shouto looks away and then Izuku finds another poor soul to glare at, already possessive over something that wasn't even his.

The other being a toxic bromine, smiling wolfishly palming himself roughly as he keeps eye contact with you. Strong grip with his other hand on his hockey stick as he daydreams about you. He wants you in doggy first then missionary because you're so fuckin pretty and he's dying to know what you look like when you cum. Especially when you're creaming on his cock. He's dreamt about you before, he's fucked his fist to you before and he sure as hell has knocked some asshole’s teeth out over you before. It didn't matter if it was his own teammates or the opposing team with the exception that Izuku was allowed to make an occasional comment but no more than three before the childhood rivals would be at each other's throats.

Their gaze are always a little unnerving with their intensity, almost predatory and yet it never makes you feel uncomfortable. They'd proven before that they'd protect you when push came to shove, they did four seasons ago when you first moved to the city and before anyone on the team even knew the coach had kids, let alone a daughter. The bar was crowded, it was a rival team against some other team the city happened to give less of a shit about. The players were on an off day enjoying their few hours off the ice and of course the rough men chose a bar where they could watch a fucking hockey game and shoot shit.

You'd finally found a table with a decent view of one of the many TVs and the bar so you could easily get up and get yourself a drink. But your new male coworker offered to bully his way through the players for you, ending up at the end of the bar by a bulky curly haired man and loud ass ash blonde. Getting caught up in the game and taking your eyes off your coworker but only for a moment.

“Are you trying to spike her drink?” A thick scarred hand is over one of the glasses on the bar top, your coworker flushed red.

“Huh?”

“Ya fuckin dumb?” The ash blonde reaches over the curly haired man, yanking your coworker’s tie harshly, effectively smashing the man's face into the polished wood.

“He said were ya tryin to date rape that pretty woman over there?” The blonde cocks his head in your direction, a group of eight eyes turn to look over their shoulder and then back at your shitty coworker. Who stammers, tried to get himself out of the lie before the sweetest, deadliest voice comes from the freckled sunshine boy of the team.

“Smile.” But there's nothing but malice in his eyes as he snaps the photo, immediately texting it to every bar owner he knows. (Half the city!) Your coworker fled and they offered up a seat at the bar for you but you politely declined after that they periodically glanced back to see if you left yet and if you were still okay.

So it wasn't like the only thing they wanted was to get their dick wet right?

Bedsides what probably made you super hot to them was the fact that you were the coach’s daughter, aka off limits.

Sighing as you watch them skate around the rink gracefully despite their size, Izuku and Katsuki passing to one another before taking shots at Kirishima in his full gear as they all warm up. Soon the stadium will be packed with throngs of people pressing into the glass behind you. Most of them rival fans banging on the plexi in hopes to distract or rile up the team, not realizing you'd be distraction enough.

Because all night a pair of emerald and bromine eyes will be glued to you. One giving his killer smile and the other smirking as he delivers a deadly wink.