Bakugo That Bear Hugs Reader While Fucking In Missionary 😩

First time makin out with Bakugo.

suggestive!!

Ur laying down, splayed on top of him, but who can say anything about it? You saw the black tee and sweatpants combo he flaunts while he was casually making food in the kitchen. You’d practically jumped him.

But he didn’t mind; his temper deteriorates later into the night, so the only thing he can feel right now is your fingers wrapped around his neck and your lips slowly dancing against his. Not that he had much of a temper around you anyway.

He groans satisfactorily in the back of his throat. The pads of his fingers creep up the thighs sat on either side of his hips and trickle just under the fabric of your shorts. There was no point getting under the covers of the dark bedroom, the only light came from a candle on the dresser from sometime earlier when you were cleaning, and the only sounds emanated from you two.

That moment he gently tugs your lip between his teeth, just to release it and grin tiredly when you hum in response. At the same time, you shift above him, turning your head into a deeper kiss.

His lips are so soft. They move perfectly against yours, molding like they were made for each other. He looks so content like this, sharing a sultry kiss with you, his body completely relaxed. Mostly.

Your tongue slips out to meet with his as if it had been done a billion times. His touch sends fire through your skin, and with each movement he gets even closer, your heart feels like it’s about to pound through your ribs; however, despite how it appears to be, he is in the same breathless boat. Your hand only disconnects from him to brush the falling tendrils of hair behind your ear.

There was a hardness growing beneath you that made your heart beat ten times faster, but nothing was done about it. He ignored it—instead trailing one of his palms up and down the span of your back while the other reaches a little further.

His brows furrow a bit when he inquires as softly as possible, in his gruff voice, “You’re not wearin’ anything under these tiny shorts?”

You dip your head back to his lips, taking them in sensually. Of course, he returns it, but the question is left in the air. Your mouth leaves his so you can leave slow, needy kisses along his jaw that gradually cover his neck, and when you come back up, the answer is given as a whisper. “Hmm…thong.”

He blinks open his orbs swimming with fire and a glint of amusement. The hand on your back then moves to your nape so he can tug you down to him, already feeling the withdrawal of your taste. Simultaneously, his fingers inch all the way up until he can feel the garment himself.

He effortlessly slips his finger under the thin string and lifts it until he can’t anymore so that it delicately snaps back into place. His tongue soars deeper into yours when you react with a small gasp.

He smiles with a low sound deep in his chest, “Seems like you want somethin’ from me.”

“I do,” you breathe. “Didn’t wear it for nothing.”

It’s then he rolls over, taking you with him onto your back.

©️hxltic

You and Bakugou walk home in the rain.

The sky’s a watercolour spill of peach, heavy clouds staining the glow and threatening rain, wind. You had watched the sky from the cool, green-dark of your little store, wondering if you needed to pull in the flowers sitting out the front; the last thing you wanted was carnations rolling down the little street, scattering their frilled petals like confetti. Everyone else along your strip was wheeling in what they could, or lowering awnings—taking precautions, bundling up bags of pickled radishes, or dragging in stands with bootleg DVDs.

“Eh, the weather will break,” Akane had said, dismissively. “It’ll sail out to sea and then double back before it does any real damage.”

You had held out your hand as she blustered on—catching the rain dripping from the stripped canopy over your shopfront, stretching your fingers and letting the water run down them.

“Maybe I’ll bring the flowers in, anyway,” you say aloud. Akane scoffs, throwing her hands up in surrender. You smile to yourself, amused, and let her have her disgruntlement.

You rescue the carnations first—already wet with rainwater and huddled together, their frilled edges making you think of vacationing ladies at the seaside: their skirt hems dragging with the ocean spray. The hydrangeas wait til last; riotous in the weather, soaking in what they can, happily. There’s a distant rumble of thunder—you pause on the threshold of your store and watch the sky like it’s less a threat of a storm and more the promise of Katsuki overhead, somewhere, his explosions propelling him forward and breakneck speed.

It’s not. In the gloom of your little cupboard of a shop, your phone glows; a message from your Hero, waiting.

Doing shitty paperwork. Tell me when you’re home.

You thumb the side of your phone, like you could be tracing the back of his hand. Home, he says, so easily. Home—Katsuki’s apartment, where you’d both come to like the comfort of you being there for him, when he finished work.

There’s an icy gust; the wind, testing your doors before sending some leaves scuttering, down the road. You stand amid your plants and your buckets of flowers and think about Katsuki, frowning down at his paperwork in the confides of his brightly-lit office at the agency, as the world outside grew dark. He was always coming to you—meeting you at home. Meeting you at your shop doors.

Outside, something clatters. A shop sign, maybe. A fern brushes the top of your head as you peer out, to the sky again, still it’s wash of orange.

Just closing up shop now, you text Katsuki back. The read notification ticks over quickly, but he doesn’t reply—his normal modus of messaging.

It never bothers you. Instead to be funny, you send him a gif—a glittering rose, something Akane might’ve sent you, unironically, as a good morning message.

Katsuki reads that, too, but doesn’t reply—leaving you silently laughing to yourself in the dark of your secret little shop.

It’s raining in patches, by the time you leave the store; shower bursts, on and off as you make your way through a busy train station, eeling onto the train you need, when it comes.

You are a bright smear of colour, in the window’s reflections; with your coat, with the bundle of flowers you’ve allowed yourself, for Katsuki’s apartment—for home. An older woman across from you smiles, when you meet her eyes; you smile back and then almost immediately look away, rocking with the motion of the carriage and your embarrassment, still unused to the attention holding something as simple and as cheery as a bouquet of flowers could bring.

The rain’s paused, when you make it to your stop; the sky over the intersection still it’s peach spill. You twirl your umbrella above your head, watching the clouds roll, and then glance ahead, across the road—to where Katsuki is standing in civilian gear, golden and unimpressed in the latelight as he waits for you to notice him.

You break out into a grin just as the lights signal for you to cross, your heart skipping with the tune as you make your way to him.

“What happened to the paperwork?” You ask a little breathlessly, when you join him on his side of the road.

Katsuki just frowns, a hand reaching out to curl against your side—pulling you into him, where he presses his face against yours for a moment, stilling your buzzing, your excitement, like he could absorb it all. You press back just as tightly; breathing him in, warm and deep and sweet.

There’s a light touch against your temple, suspiciously kiss-like; and then he’s nipping at your ear, annoyed.

“Ow,” you say, reflexively.

He smacks his forehead against yours in retaliation. “Y’re meant to go home, dipshit,” he says, disapproving, though he just holds you closer when you sag against him, trying to keep your umbrella aloft.

“I am going home,” you mumble into the lapel of his jacket. “I’m going home with you.”

His arm tightens around you; you breathe in with him, listening to the thud of his heart, steady under the sudden spray of rain overhead, on your umbrella.

The crosswalk goes off again—leaving the pair of you standing there in the last of the rain, the light. The two of you in your own world, under the watercolour spill of sky.

My cutie pie

no thoughts only omurice

ordinary things ──★ ˙🍓 ̟

no one ever trusted katsuki - not fully anyways. i mean, how could anyone? he fired up quickly, and made rash decision out of pure anger. katsuki didn’t even trust himself, he knew how he was and it, honestly, scared him.

that is - until you came along.

from the moment katsuki met you, he couldn’t get your sickly, kind attitude out of his head. some people would call your viewpoint naïve and stupid and blah blah blah (real footage from katsuki's head) whereas, katsuki saw it as his guardian angel. you led him to a path where he did have faith in himself, because you did.

he almost felt lucky to have you— fuck that, he was lucky. especially now, with your body waiting for him to take care of you, just like he often does.

low snores escaped your body and katsuki snorts, kneeling down in front of you, to slip your fingers away from the book that you were previously reading. his hand moves to your hair that cascades over your face, while giving you lightest peck known to mankind.

that wakes you up instantly, your lashes fluttering and heart beating from the mere smell of him.

“’suki? when’d you get home?” you try to sit up, before his hands stop you.

“just now - go back to bed,” you hum in satisfaction at that “i’ll get you to bed, m’kay?” a slow and drooling nod answers him.

and, just like that, something that would be so ordinary to anyone else, feels so special to katsuki. the fact that you let him look after you in such a vulnerable way, that you have this much trust in him, as you let him take your clothes off, so you can wear something more comfortable, never fails to amaze him.

after all, no one has ever had so much belief in him like you did.

ae! we NEED to see forbes gojo’s reaction to his preggo wife relying on her pregnancy pillow for cuddles and he hasn’t gotten any in weeks 🤭🤭

(my) DADDY TO BE - gojo satoru.

unedited bc i'm currently brain dead from school. but i do think he'll have a much different response when he's really needy... but let's keep it somewhat PG for now heh

"No, no, no baby," your husband gently pries the pillow from you. "Use me, I'm here," he'll whisper while warming your face with soft kisses as he hushes your small whines from the discomfort of being very pregnant. He'll snuggle in to wrap you into his arms, placing his thigh between your legs for more comfort, lightly humming so you'll fall back asleep.

murmuring half awake while instinctively wrapping your arms around his waist, "This is all your fault, Satoru."

"Mhm," he whispered, smiling as he wrapped his arms tighter around you. "It's all my fault." He responds, softly chuckling as his hand sneaks through your shirt to rub against your back.

"but I'll forgive you because you're cute."

"Cute? Guess, I'll take that." Letting out a content sigh, taking in your scent, he can feel the fatigue of his past stressful week dissipate when his senses recognize that it's you — his home.

he's happy to be back in the arms of his lover whom he's been completely drained of for the past week — sexually painful, but always worth it, he concludes when the heat of your body radiates to his naked torso. "How about we throw away that stupid pillow so you can use your cute and sexy husband instead, yeah?"

"I promise I'll give you the best sleep you've ever had, princess."

"no, you won't let me sleep —"

Placing his large hand around your round belly, gently rubbing your skin to ease your tensed stomach, "Mommy is being naughty, booger." your husband's breath fanned over your cheeks, waking you up. "Now cover your ears booger, Daddy needs to tell Mommy a secret."

Peaking open your eyes, you're faced with his beautiful cerulean pairs watching you so tenderly while small droplets of water slowly stretch down his sternum and toned abdomen from his soft, white hair. (was he always this big? you dazedly wondered. he did say he exercised more due to his sexual frustrations while he was away)

"Because you should know that by now," his eyes scan your face, a smirk forming at the tip of his lips when he notices your eyes scanning his body. your husband can't help but naturally focus his gaze down to your lips and ultimately your plump breasts just ready to milk his future daughter.

"or else our little booger wouldn't be inside your belly now, would she?"

Bakugou loves when you hold onto his biceps. It’s so intimate, even when it’s not sexually.

He used to HATE the winter but when he realized you had a higher tendency to cling onto him and squeeze his bicep so tight he began to grow fond of the season.

Or when you two would go out for hero awards and while walking on the red carpet you’d happily hold onto him and have the biggest smile. Proud of both of you for making it so far and being so lucky.

God what you do to him.

But his favorite thing by far… is when you’re crying and you just let him wrap you up. Letting his arms cage you in and now it’s just the comfort of reminding you that while he may be strong, for you, he knows how to be gentle. 🧡

child like wonder

bakugo x fem!reader

Ten years after his first official Pro Hero debut with his fellow UA graduates, Dynamight has since been Japans number one hero turned number fifteenth hero, and now a father.

His son's first years of life had been greatly hidden from the public, the only news being Bakugos official statement announcing he would be taking a break to focus on his family and being a father.

Four years later, baby Bakugo has now first been spotted with Dynamight outside a kindergarten. Outside sources and video recordings could be seen from across the road recording their interactions.

With a harsh glare and a cold shoulder from Dynamight, turning his back to the recording individuals, baby Bakugo was first spotted shy smiling and giving the fans a small wave while trying to hide behind his father. Fans across the globe awed at the sweet child's display, the contrast between the small child and his loud spoken father created even more turmoil among fans.

Bakugos son quickly became the number one trending online,"I think that babies smile just cured my depression," said one dedicated Dynamight fan. Similar comments on TikTok stating "PLEASE WHY AM I NOT THE CHILDS MOTHER," was on thousands of videos and edits of baby Bakugo.

The public quickly learned that baby Bakugo was the complete opposite of Dynamight, while Bakugo was blunt and harsh during interviews, baby Bakugo would giggle and talk to the interviewers about mundane and childish topics, asking their favorite color and showing off his All Might doll his father got him.

The soft spoken angel would help others, a trait some would say he got from his father. During a fan signing, baby Bakugo was right next to his father greeting and talking to fans, some even got photos with them. (with Dynamights and baby Bakugos permission) The cute boy was pictured cheesing with a tiny peace sign next to his glaring straight faced father.

A father son duo the world didnt know they needed.

But with such an innocent and tenderhearted kid coming from someone of the Bakugo family, many asked the question "How did such a harsh and rambunctious person like Dynamight create such an adorable and gentle child."

Thats where you come in, his mother. Someone who remained elusive and hidden from the limelight. No one had ever seen baby Bakugos mother, thats why it was such a shock when Dynamight announced his jump into fatherhood, no one knew he was even dating someone to begin with.

All dating rumors with other heroes, models, actresses, and even friends were always shut down fast. So the mother could've been anyone.

But one phone caught a certain model exiting the kindergarten mid day, holding a sick and tearful baby Bakugo.

While you exited the building in civilian clothes, sunglasses, baggy sweatshirts and pants, with trainers no one should have know it was you. But the giant rock on your finger showed otherwise, everyone knew you refused to take off your wedding ring unless it was for specific photo shoots.

With one fan catching it while scrolling and pointed out your specific ring, others started to piece together certain events and breaks you and Dynamight would coincidentally have together.

Thus the mystery of Bakugos wife and his son's mother was found.

The other shocking realization came with the fact that you were a notoriously difficult and demanding model. Your viral "crash outs" over unprofessional coworkers and crazy fans were always trending. The contracts and demands you had for working with a company or someone was high maintenance and unruly, but the public and designers loved you.

So how did a child as sweet and docile have a mother as needy and high maintenance as you, and a father as audacious and harsh as Bakugo.

osamu boy dad, with a little army of miyas that reign lovable terror over your home.

it reminds him of growing up with tsumu. always noisy. always rowdy. always fun. and just when he thinks the two of you are done having babies, two lines on a pregnancy test the two of you are staring at in disbelief—in that brief window of precious silence between when the boys go to bed and the day's exhaustion drags you both under—say otherwise.

the first time osamu holds your daughter in his arms he can barely see her through his own tears. she's so tiny. so special. so delicate. he's used to his boys, now. used to tossing them around, and riling them up, and chasing them down just so he can slow them for long enough to put plasters over their bumps and scrapes. he worries for a moment that he doesn't know how to treat her as gently as she needs to be, this itty bitty little girl he loves so much.

the first time he sees his little angel deck her older brother for stealing her favourite toy, he realizes he had absolutely nothing to worry about—she's as much of a miya as the rest of them.

i just know satoru’s the type to lean down when you two are making out while standing up, and he literally pushes himself into your personal space because he cannot physically get enough of you. like his hands are gripping your flesh, your thighs, your ass, and then his hand wraps around your neck and when you try to pull away to breathe, he chases after your lips and pecks them repeatedly.

“no no no—come back here, please,”

teacher teacher teacher i have a sad hokucanon about how, since hoku honey thinks sabo is dead, she makes little dolls of him with his clothes and stuff, and then leaves them in places with good views, especially of the sky or sea. she even makes an openable pocket in the back wear she writes short letters to him since she thinks. you know, that he’s dead. there’s at least one mini-sabo in every place she’s been,

ah, anon, you have good taste

If possible though, since Hoku isn’t the best with needles and things, I’d say that she instead draws/paints/graffitis his hat onto different places following what you said, where she thinks he’d like it the most. Places that remind her of being free because it’s what he wanted more than anything else. Then she’ll leave small memos behind in the cracks and places beside them with the written lines hoping he’s getting it from up there too.

. . . . .

“Hoku, what are you drawing over there?”

Hoku hummed, finishing up the little bit of black to the edge of his hat, making sure it finished nice and clean against the brick wall over looking the ocean’s harbor. Nami came to stand beside her, arms daintily full with her latest purchases with Sanji carrying the rest several feet behind.

“Hoku Honeyyyy! There you are!”

“Just finishing up here,” Hoku said. She pulled a small paper from her pocket, slipping it into the cracks of the brick wall. She pressed her fingers to her lips and then to her heart and then placed it onto the painted hat, offering it a small smile before she sat back up.

“Did you find anything good?” Hoku said, tucking her brush behind her ear. Nami reached out, tucking some of Hoku’s hair behind that and giving her a bit of a thoughtful look before she simply smiled.

“Plenty. I’ll tell you all about how I bartered with the cashier,” Nami slung her arm through hers and Hoku didn’t complain, letting her pull her along as Sanji sang praises behind them. “I even picked some things out for you for the right price.”

“Well, I gotta like them first before I pay.”

“Well, you’ll just have to try them on first then, won’t you?”

Hoku grinned carelessly while Nami offered her a cheeky smirk in return, tugging Hoku closer to her side.

A small black top hat sat in the corner of the brick wall, painted in permanently overlooking the sea. A pair of goggles etched around its brim. Unhindered by anything else.

Free as a bird.