Storiestoobsessover - Stories Im Obsessed About

You don't think you've ever seen Bakugou look so scared. He stands in front of you, eyes wide chest heaving because what the fuck did you just say?

And there you are standing with a soft smile and hands gripping his. Acting as if you hadn't just said 'I love you' in the sweetest voice.

"I-"

You laugh at that eyes shooting to the ground before looking back up.

"It's alright Katsuki. I didn't say it for you to say something back."

"Then why the fuck would you say that?"

"Because I wanted you to know?"

His mouth ran dry. He wanted to say it. Why couldn't he say it? What was so scary about three fucking words.

He swallowed harshly, scarred hand gripping the back of your neck to push your foreheads together. He stayed like that for a moment before pulling back and softly kissing the spot between your eyes.

It was silent. Not a word spoken after but you knew exactly what it meant.

'I love you too.'

Your ex husband bakugo bitches about you constantly, but he once made it across the city in five minutes because he thought you were hurt... and he shovels for you every time it snows.

cw: cisfem reader, sex work mention, slight blood mention

“You don’t belong here.”

The man jumps, surprised, then dissolves into a chuckle as he brings his drink to his lips. There's something familiar about this face, hidden under the swollen cheekbone and bruised fat lip, but you can't place where you know him from. You apparently marvel too long, as the stranger cheeks grow redder by the second.

“Is it really that obvious?”

“Um, yeah.” You gesture up and down him, “You’re stiff as a board and you tried to order food.”

The stranger scoffs into his drink, genuinely insulted for a moment before he dissolves back into his smile. There's no airs about him - a rare occurrence for the clientele here- and that knows you a bit off guard. "What’s wrong with ordering food?"

You ignore how the bartender shoots you a look when you slip into the seat beside your tall blonde and simply gesture to the place as if it explains itself- dim mood lighting, men in suits, women in dresses that barely cover anything. There's a woman on stage, perched on all fours and writhing ever so gracefully, arching her back as she slinks on the floor. Her quirk activates for a moment and her skin shimmers with a kaleidoscope of colors, a fairy under neon lights.

This place has the decency to call itself a gentleman's club. It has polished glasses and comfortable seats, but that doesn't change what it is. It's a strip club. Through and through. It's lacquered shine doesn't change anything underneath. It still reeks of malintent.

"What’s wrong with ordering food?" he repeats. He places his drink down and you take it before he can react, bringing it up to your lips with a playful grin. When he doesn't protest, instead just watching you with wide, wide eyes, you take a sip. It's strong enough to make your chest bloom with heat.

"I don't think they have food here."

"They do," he replies.

"Then you're going to pay six thousand yen for three bites of food." Your lipstick clings to the rim as you hand it back to him.

"Well," he sniffs, flinching at his own crinkled nose. It must be broken; there's flecks of dried blood lining his fulcrum. "Have you ever tried it?"

"Clearly not."

He takes a long chug from his drink and finished the glass. When he gestures for another, your lipstick has smudged on to his cheek. "Maybe it's worth the money then."

You laugh, and it's not your normal practiced giggle. It's real and loud enough that the bartender shoots you another look. He knows what you're supposed to be doing here, and it's not hanging with the slummiest man in the room. When you meet his eye, there's a bit of a silent conversation between you two.

I know, you try to tell him, Let me have my fun.

"What are you doing here?" You turn back to your current play thing. The man shrinks slightly, a sheepish smile creeping back onto his face.

"Long night," the stranger mumbles, "Needed a drink and, well-"

He looks towards the stage, where a mouse eared girl spins on her pole, dark braids the only thing covering her tits. She's short and thick in the places that make you look longer than you should

"Some pretty things to look at?" You finish for him.

He tears his eyes away and back to you. You don't miss how they flicker down, how they soften when you scooch closer.

"Does that make me a bad person?"

"I think it makes you a guy," you shrug. One of the better guys, in fact. The unashamed ones get grabby and mean; this one talks to you like he considers you a person.

"What's your name?" he asks suddenly. You debate giving him your real one for a second, but then you adjust your legs and feel the bite of your stiletto straps on your ankles.

"Star."

"I'm Taishiro."

You regard him again, soaking in all the little details about him. He's tall- insanely so. There's a fair amount of muscle on his frame and you think maybe, under those bruises, he's pretty.

"You a boxer, Tai?"

"Y-yeah. Yeah, I am," he hesitates, "How'd you know?"

"Well, your nose is broken, so you definitely fight, but you aren't a hero," you gesture to his clothes. Oversized sweatpants, and a loose long sleeve - he looks like someone that's cut weight lately. "I know all the heroes in the area, and you aren't one of them. I would have remembered your pretty face."

The stranger draws back a bit, brow scrunched with confusion, but a smile creeping across his face. He must not get compliments much. You slyly check his finger for a ring and find it empty. Good, but that doesn't mean anything. Lots of men take off their rings.

"And you aren't a bad guy or a villain. You don't have that scent to you."

He also doesn't smell like anyone else. If he slept next to someone, there'd be lingerings of them.

"Villains have a smell now?"

"To me, they do." You nap the side of your nose, "It's a quirk thing."

Your quirk sounds more useful than it is. There's a scent to bad intentions, something that lingers

He rolls his head to his shoulder and finally relaxes fully. "You can sniff out crime? Full on McGruff the Crime Dog?"

You mirror him. Ear to your shoulder, a slight grin tugged onto your lips, you say: "A dog? Are you calling me a bitch?"

The stranger blanches. His hand flies to his face so quickly that you're worried he's going to hit himself.

"Oh, geez, I didn't-"

You lean forward with a tinkle of laughter and pat his thigh. The muscle is tight and corded through the thick fabric. Messing with him is easy. Too easy. You almost feel bad for riling him up. "I'm teasing. I'm like a bloodhound."

"How does it work?" Taishiro asks, "What do I smell like?"

He smells like home cooking, with spices and herbs you can't quite place. It's homey, it's warm, it's familiar in ways you can't quite place. There's an edge in there you can't quite place, not quite sour or sweet, but just off enough that you know he's not being 100% truthful with you. You suspect his name isn't what he says, or his boxing career isn't exactly that.

You can't judge. Your name clearly isn't Star.

But, then again, he moves so earnestly that you have a hard time assuming he's bad in anyway, especially next to some of these men. One of them, an older man you unfortunately recognize, keeps looking at you. His smell is sweet in the same way rot is.

"It's a secret," you reply, "Just keep on behaving and you won't have to worry about it."

He laughs at that, big and booming enough that a couple of the girl walking around look your way, and you can't help but join it. You think, if you had met him anywhere else, if you were someone else, you'd pursue this further, let something develop between you.

But you aren't anyone else.

"Can I buy you a drink?" he asks, suddenly, and you suddenly are hit with the guilt of reality.

"I gotta be honest with you." You peel your hand from his thigh. "I don't come to strip bars for the tits, baby."

"Do- do you work here?"

"Men buy my time." He stares at you blankly and you sigh. "My companionship for the evening. And my boss is going to get mad if I don't start schmoozing paying customers."

Taishiro furrows his brow, then widens his eyes as the realization hits him.

"Oh. Oh." He swallows and nods, clearly thinking this through. Just as you start to get up, he reaches for you, wide, wide, wide hand on your hip to keep you in place. "How much?"

Something inside you sinks. You should have expected this. "I didn't think you were interested in that."

"I'm not-- I mean, I am, but not like- well-" He staggers through his thoughts, "I just want to keep talking. Really. Maybe even split my food, if you want, but I don't- not that kind of companionship- just, like, normal companion stuff."

You sniff. He still smells the the truth, for the most part. You're not sure if you pity him.

"Two hundred thousand yen for the night," you say. "Ends at sun up- no exceptions."

"Oh," he perks up, head tilted like a puppy again, "That's it?"

"What does that mean?"

"I thought it was going to be--" he pauses and shakes his head, thinking better of it, "Yeah, that's okay."

"Do you think I'm cheap?" you gape.

"No, I just--" he laughs again, clearly embarrassed. "You just look really, really, really expensive?"

Despite yourself, with a roll of your eyes, you smile too. "Nice save."

He mum les to himself, rubbing the back of his neck. Most of your clients are experienced with this life, but the new ones are always like him. Nervous. Scared. You step closer to him, trailing your fingers down his arm. You both watch your manicured nails trace loose patterns.

"You really want to spend that kind of money to just have dinner with me?"

You'd fuck him. Of course you would. You expect him to crumble under the flirtations, just like the others did.

But he surprises you when he nods.

"Yeah, I am," Taishiro says, "Is that okay?"

You shrug. "It's your night. Anything you want is okay."

The hand on your waist squeezes tighter, but it's not sexual. It's comforting, almost normal.

"I guess I'll..." he says awkwardly, "Get cash?"

"Cash is good."

-

Taishiro knows this is a bad idea.

A horrible, awful, terrible idea.

Using his real name was stupid; he's lucky you incorrectly guessed his career. If he wasn't so thin right now, you might have recognized him. He'll if he's not careful, you could figure him out anyway.

If the media gets word of this, his career would be ruined. His poor interns would never meet his eye again. The headlines flash in his mind: FATGUM CAUGHT WITH PROSTITUTE. OR ESCORT. WHAT'S THE DIFFERENCE?

Well, he's sure they'd be more creative than that.

He shakes it out of his head. This isn't about sex. He's just... lonely. So, unbearably lonely. It's just a dinner, just something to stop him from going hone and wallowing by himself again. Sure, you're the prettiest thing that's ever talked to him-

He shakes that out of his head too.

Fang... fang... more megumi boypussy..... more megumi boypussy PLEEAAAAASE.... 🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️

no thoughts head empty only thinking of innocently offering to help him masturbate bc he wants to try penetration but gets nervous trying to put anything in there

he’s tight and too sensitive and gets too worked up to do it right. makes him soooo huffy and frustrated. you’re close to him in some way and you come over and catch him with his shorts at his ankles—shivering while he runs his fingers through his slit.

when you walk into his room he yells at you to get out but you just close the door behind you and sit on the edge of his bed. you don’t really know how else to describe the feeling, just a compulsion rlly. you end up sweet talking him into letting you see. too needy to refuse you properly. takes his shorts off all the way and spreads his legs for you.

you’re gentle when you climb ontop to finger him. he tries not to show that it feels good but it’s so easy to tell. cream colored skin dusted with pink, all raspy knees and slender limbs—the pale plane of his belly going taut, chest trembling as he breathes shakily. you figure if he’s letting you go that far, it might not hurt to push your limits.

he yelps in surprise when you kiss him, easily melting away any other defenses. gasps nice and loud when you trail down to kiss the curve of his jaw, nip at his collarbone. you take the risk and play with his nipples too—they’re just to tempting and it makes him arch his back so nice.

all foreplay and touching all the places he can’t reach himself making him so, so desperate. his thighs clench up around your wrist, arm across his face just embarrassed. it feels weird. good but so weird—different to how he normally cums. comes from somewhere deeper, it’s so overwhelming. and your targeting the exact place he wants it, like you just know.

he lets a needy plea to touch his clit too, when he gets close. when you bend down and latch your mouth to his clit, he cries out. it feels so good he gets scared, tells you to get off because it feels weird. not like how it usually does.

of course you’re not really listening. but he’s been so wet the entire time you’ve been stretching his cunt open on two fingers, you’re not taken aback when he squirts all over your hand and mouth. it feels so good but god he wants the ground to swallow him up it’s so embarrassing.

earns you a very light kick in the stomach afterwards, socked feet pushing against you as he tells you to die and get out of his room.

but when you grab him by the ankle and offer to make him feel even better, he can’t find it in him to refuse.

Happy birthday Shouto!

(Featuring Touya being the terrible influence he was always meant to be)

smile!

Can you do a smau where the mha boys are clingy and needy of attention? 💘

🍓 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

texts with the bnha guys; fem! reader (aged up) characters included: katsuki bakugou, izuku midoriya, shoto todoroki, tenya iida, eijirou kirishima, denki kaminari.

! they want attention

warnings: sfw, fluff, angst-ish in todorokis part

best friend katsuki who starts finding himself getting a bit too flustered around you.

it starts with a hug.

you're so fucking dramatic, he thinks.

every time you see each other, you might as well be standing in the middle of an airport with the crowd split down the middle and fireworks going off in the background.

he'd never admit it, but he loves the theatrics. he loves the click between you when you lock eyes in a crowded room. he loves your "half-run" towards him and the hop you do right before you wrap your arms around his neck.

of course you two always get odd looks, because despite being best friends since childhood, and everyone knowing it, they still can't seem to understand how a person like you can get along with a person like him.

"you're choking me," he breathlessly chuckles, "ya missed me or something?"

"something like that." you murmur, the smile apparent in your voice.

katsuki stops breathing for a moment when his fingers sink into the soft skin of your waist and his palm goes flush against your bare lower back.

why the fuck is your shirt so short?

i should move my hand.

you're so warm.

i shouldn't be thinking about this.

he doesn't say anything, and he sure as hell isn't letting go first. instead, he buries his nose deeper into the crook of your neck, hoping that he could blame the blush blooming over his cheeks on the hot summer day.

"what's wrong?" you finally pull away, one hand locked on his shoulder and the other sliding down his bicep.

"what?"

his eyes lock onto your own. he's fighting the urge to trail his eyes down your body- see how that crop top looks from the front now that he knows how it feels.

"you seem weird."

"says the weirdo." he scoffs. "m'fine."

you roll your eyes, letting your hands drop to your side.

"come get a soda with me." you almost demand, starting to walk off knowing he'd follow close behind.

no one else in the world would dare speak to katsuki the way you do. he’d never allow it, but that attitude coming from you only had his heart racing even faster.

"you paying?"

"i have you to do that for me, don't i?"

you turn your head over your shoulder, flashing him that toothy grin of yours, and that's when katsuki knew for certain.

he was fucked.

WAAAAIITT CAN WE PLEASE TALK ABOUT SW!READER AND FATGUM A LITTLE MORE🥺 im eating these up wow but her quirk is so interesting!

Since she knows all the heroes in the area— I’m thinking there’s like a day where she somehow runs into Fatgum on the clock, whether that is passing by or maybe she had a run in with one of those people she owns money to and he helps her out but when she catches his scent, everything just clicks? I can imagine she’s memorized his scent by now with how many times they’ve spent together🥺

I think its a rare night off for her.

a client had been too rough with her, bruised her face too much to cover under make up. can't work if the clients aren't willing to fuck you, so the boss let her off, just until the healer could come by.

so she spends the night walking through the food market her boxer recommended, trying the foods he mentioned.

she catches his scent halfway through the night. She shouldn't let him see her like this, but the temptation to see him in real life, in real clothes-

will it be ok if i request wrong number w touya… insert rachel berry pleek gif

.ᐟ sent & received

t.todoroki smau

a/n: this is so heavily inspired by my moots waowwww (haiiii satty baby ilyyyyy can you tell this is based on you <33)

m.list