Pairings: Suna Rintar & F!Reader.

Pairings: Suna Rintarō & F!Reader.

Characters: Suna Rintarō. Miya Osamu. Miya Atsumu. Princess Alisa.

Genre: Alternate Universe—Royalty. Angst. Fluff. Tags: Enemies to Lovers. (in a Forbidden Love sort of way.) Suggestive. Betrayal. Duchess!Reader. Mentions of assassination. Mentions of alcohol. Profanity. Villain!Suna.

Note: Will have a part two when I regain some semblance or drop of my will to live. Not proofread, at all.

You were never sure what to make of grand balls. You feel, a part inherent to you holds a level of affinity towards them. Even so, you grimace at the thought of its crowd—rich, snobby nobles and the like.

The royal family had asked (more so required) you of your presence, and with the bright pleading eyes of the princess, you folded.

Because she was your friend; and she hated these grand balls more than you ever did.

You get pampered, treated the best. People always say, it’s because you’re a treasure to the royal family, the cornerstone of humanity and the kingdom itself—because you’re strong, and full of wit, and powerful in your own right. That’s what they say.

You repeat these to yourself when your body is being caged into a snug corset, a dress so elegant hugging your body.

Keep reading

Toy Box

Pairing: Bakugo x Reader (Roommate AU)

Rating: Explicit (18+ minors do not interact)

Warnings: Sex toys mentioned, Voyeurism, masturbation, smut, oral sex (male and female receiving), overstimulation,

Word Count: 16.5k

a/n: Here it is! Roommate Baku! The fic based on this post here! I had so much fun writing this. Like... so much fun. I really really hope y'all enjoy it. Sorry in advance for how long it is I just uhhh got carried away lol. Very very special thanks to @hoe-doroki for being constantly supportive and super patient while I wrote this because it’s been a wip for MONTHS. Love you baby I hope you enjoy it. Anywhoo ENJOY

You are mortified, if that is even the correct word to use. You could open a thesaurus, find all other words that mean the same thing, smash them all together to make one giant word that meant the same thing and you still wouldn’t be able to come up with a better word for how you’re feeling looking at the package in the middle of the table.

In stark contrast to your horror and humiliation, your roommate is across the room laughing his annoying ass off as tears form in the corner of his eyes and he chokes—good, let him—on his spit. His words play back in your mind over and over, searing themselves into your brain with every repeated phrase.

“Well shit, if you wanted to be fucked by a huge dick, all you had to do was ask.”

Your roommate, rising pro hero Katsuki Bakugo, had just walked in on you seeing the very special package—also known as an 8 inch dildo you planned to have a very nice evening with, at least before now-—he’d left for you on the table. This man hasn’t uttered more than 20 words to you since the two of you moved in together about 6 months ago—which you appreciated in all honesty—and he chooses now of all times to make a crude ass joke? When you’re wallowing in your disgrace?

“Shut the fuck up. Not another word, Bakugo, or I swear-”

“What, you’ll beat me with the big black dick on the table?”

He laughs again, beating his chest as he hacks up a lung from laughing so hard. You momentarily contemplate jumping on him and kicking his ass. You won’t win,obviously, but with the surprise, you’ll at least be able to get a few jabs in. Instead, you snatch the dildo off the table, stuff it in your jacket and run to your room. You slam the door shut before you hear him say, “Hey, wait!” through his laughing fit.

You throw the dildo on your bed and crouch down in front of the door, holding your cheeks that feel like they’re on fire. You try to take a deep breath, rationalize the situation—there are plenty of embarrassing things that could’ve happened. I mean the two of you are roommates. He’s seen you in short shorts and messy bed hair before and that never bothered you.

Fact is, nothing really bothered you with him. It’s why you two worked so well as roommates. He left you alone, you left him alone. You had different friend groups, different hobbies, different lives. He was a pro hero and you were...a walking pit of despair with a shit but nice paying office job where you excelled at what you did but, it was not at all what you wanted to do with your life.

The perfect dynamic.

The only conversations you had were about the apartment and the occasional “it’s supposed to rain today, ugh” and “I’ll be gone for the weekend” over the very rare breakfast together.

Speaking of, he was supposed to be gone for the weekend and you were supposed to have the apartment to yourself.

In fact, that morning he muttered as you sat sipping your coffee, something about going to some training camp for the weekend with a bunch of the other up-and-coming pros he’d graduated with. You hadn’t listened much to why he wasn’t going to be home, but your ears did perk up when you realized you’d have the house to yourself. It coincided perfectly with the fact that the dildo your best friend texted you was supposed to arrive later that afternoon.

Ok, so you knew it was a possibility that Bakugo might see the package, but you were assured, had checked multiple times, that the packaging would be discreet. Clearly, you were mistaken about how discreet it would be. It actually couldn’t have been more discreet if it’d had “I’m a lonely single woman who needs some good dick so I bought a 8 inch dildo online” sign plastered to the package. You shake your head, trying to clear your mind of the incident and instead focus on why Bakugo was even here in the first place.

You can hear him shuffling around the apartment behind your bedroom door. There are clinking pans and the sound of the TV going, which definitely doesn’t sound like a “I’ll be gone this weekend” thing to do. Maybe he’s waiting on a cab, you think to yourself.

You stand up and stretch, grabbing your phone to scroll through your social media and also text your best friend about what happened. Maybe, she will laugh about it and make you feel just a little bit better, maybe it’ll just be swept under the rug once the two of you laugh about it and it’s over and done when Bakugo leaves.

“Right, when he leaves… I'll just pretend like it never happened and enjoy the rest of my weekend,” you say plopping down on your bed. You scroll through social media until you fall asleep, opting to take a stress nap.

When you awaken hours later, Bakugo is still there. The sun has set, your room is dark and you can still hear the TV playing. You’re groggy and a little fuzzy of what’s going on, but the incident is still fresh in your mind. Your stomach growls and you make the very brave decision to go out and make yourself dinner. You’ll just ignore him if he says anything about it—you’re good at that. Besides you two aren’t friends. You aren’t obligated to speak to him. So you change out of the work clothes you fell asleep in, pull on your comfy sweats and favorite band t-shirt, and place your hand on the doorknob. You take a deep breath before opening it and walking out into the hall.

The kitchen smells like some spicy ramen Bakugo made which doesn’t smell bad considering he’s a pretty good cook. He's sitting on the couch scrolling through social media on his phone. He’s wearing loungewear, which suspiciously looks like “I’m staying in” clothes rather than “I’m waiting on my cab” clothes. He doesn’t look in your direction when you enter the kitchen and you’re actually kind of grateful.

You focus on preparing dinner, pulling out the pots and pans you need. You have soup boiling and you’re zoned out watching the steam billow up from the pot when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You jump and spin around, almost knocking the pan off the stove.

“Geez, don’t you ever make noise when you walk!” you say to him as you put a hand over your heart.

“Ain’t my fault you’re an airhead and don’t pay attention to your surroundings,” he says, shrugging. You glare at him before spinning back around to resume cooking. He huffs and clears his throat, trying to get your attention without touching you. When you don’t acknowledge him, he barks at you, “I’m assuming with how fucking dense you are, you haven’t heard about the stay at home order.”

You’re about to curse him out for calling you dense when you comprehend the rest of his sentence.

“The what?”

“Quarantine, because of the pandemic. The entire city is going on lockdown. No one is allowed to leave their homes except for emergencies. Companies are having employees work from home if possible, and they’re setting up a delivery service for groceries and supplies if needed. You should pay attention to the damn news one in a while.” He scolds you as he holds his phone up to your face for you to read the headline declaring the stay at home order.

So, that’s why he’s still here. You snatch the phone from his grip and scroll through the article, reading and confirming everything he just said. When you finish, you stare up at him as he watches you with that same dumb ass smirk on his face. It’s the “I told you so” face. You try to ignore it and give the phone back to him, asking, “For how long?”

He grunts at you, “Two weeks.”

You almost faint. Two weeks, stuck in the apartment with Bakugo who just saw the big-ass dildo you just bought and won’t be able to use for two weeks now, thanks to the pandemic. You’ve barely spent more than an hour with Bakugo and now you have to spend almost every minute of every day with him? You don’t know much about him, but from what you’ve seen today, he’s an asshole and annoying, so surely these two weeks are going to be a huge pain.

You take a deep breath before turning back to turn off the stove and transfer your soup to a bowl. “Thanks for telling me,” you say offhandedly, trying to stay casual and hiding the annoyance in your tone. When you don’t hear him move and you’re about to carry your bowl of soup to your room, you stop. He’s staring at you with a pensive frown, like he’s just realized something and it’s on the tip of his tongue.

“What?”

He pauses for a moment, visibly contemplating his next words before ultimately deciding not to say what he wanted. “Tsk, nothing. I’m going to bed,” he grumbles, turning on his heel and stalking to his bedroom door. You roll your eyes as you hear him curse to himself before slamming the door shut.

The next few days stuck indoors with Bakugo are just as you expected. Hell. He is by far the most annoying, stubborn, brash man you’ve ever met and you work with self-proclaimed genius businessmen for a living. He wakes up supremely early to do workouts loudly in the living room, he has no respect for when you’re on conference calls with your team throughout the day, cursing and complaining as he yells on the phone about the large amounts of paperwork he has to complete to his fellow pro heroes, and he doesn’t even have the decency to make two of whatever he’s making for lunch to share with you. Not that you’d eat it anyway, but still the thought counts.

You’ve been in so many arguments the last three days, it almost feels like you’re a married couple who’s on their last straw but are forced to stay together because of the kids.

He’s too loud, you’re too messy:

“Could you please keep it down, I’m on a conference call!”

“Oi, would it kill you to wash your fucking dishes after you use them?”

He wants to keep the TV on the news channels to monitor the rising virus cases, but you want to relax and watch Disney movies after a long and stressful day of work:

“You should want to be informed about what’s going on around us, idiot!”

“I think I’ve had a stressful enough day straining to hear my coworkers on the phone because you don’t know how to use your inside voice!”

He doesn’t let you know when he’s putting in an order for groceries and complains that you have way too much junk food in the apartment and you call him a food snob. The two of you are at each other’s throat constantly and you’re grasping at straws trying to find a silver lining for this situation.

It’s Thursday and the hectic schedule is calming down now that your coworkers are slowly getting used to working from home. You’ve set your workspace up in the living room at the tiny desk by the window. There are less meetings and you’re able to finish a lot of your projects fairly quickly, which keeps your days open enough to do side activities at home. You’ve put on the finishing touches for the huge project you’ve been working on that absolutely would have benefited from having all of your coworkers in the same room together.

You’re about to join a zoom call with your boss to finalize all the plans and move forward with rolling out the project when you calmly and very politely ask Bakugo if he can please keep it down for at least ten minutes while you’re on this call. He thankfully obliges, spitting a “whatever” back to you as he throws his shirt over his shoulder and walks to his bedroom.

You try not to pay attention to his back muscles, the way the sweat drips down them slowly and how he’s actually glowing from the morning sun beaming through the windows. You try, really really try, not to think about how, despite being covered in scars and old injuries, his skin still looks soft as he reaches out to turn the doorknob to his bedroom.

No.

No, you absolutely refuse to start looking at your roommate as if he’s a potential love interest. What is this? A sappy romcom? You’re not that horny, the quarantine is only for two weeks and you’ve lasted way longer than that without giving in to seductive thoughts.You turn away from his retreating figure, giving your head a quick shake as you type in your login information to ready yourself for the conference call.

Katsuki Bakugo is not hot. He is not attractive. He is just your roommate and you will get through these two weeks and everything will go back to normal.

Right?

This is not going as planned and in retrospect it’s stupid. Katsuki has made up his mind. Crushes, dumb lovey dovey feelings like this are stupid, a waste of time and absolutely unbearable. Not that you’d ever know he had a crush—or whatever he wants to refer to it as—but Kirishima and Mina won’t ever shut the fuck up about it so it’s only a matter of time before they blab about it and you hear one day. This quarantine is probably the best and worst scenario he could be in.

“It’s the perfect chance to sweep her off her feet!” Mina says sliding into the booth the afternoon they found out about the canceled training camp.

Katsuki rolls his eyes as he and Kirishima scooch into the large wrapped booth to make room for her.

“I don’t sweep people off their feet. This ain’t a damn romance movie. Plus, I don’t have any interest in a relationship, especially not with a roommate,” Katsuki says.

He can’t deny the attraction he feels for you, especially not to these idiots. He’d accidentally let those feelings slip one night when Denki was complaining about him not giving you his number. Ever observant Kirishima had asked why and the explosive blonde had conveyed his true feelings along with a string of curses and a face as red and flushed as a tomato.

Yeah, you’re not bad to look at. You’re quiet and not annoying and the fact that you’ve been in the apartment for six months and haven’t left complaining about Katsuki’s attitude is a huge plus. It’s true he doesn’t know much about you and Mina is right in a sense. This would be the perfect time to learn more about you.

He comes home that afternoon to learn way more about you than he thought. What better way to let your roommate know you think she’s fucking hot than by finding her 8 inch dildo in the mail. He won’t lie, it’s hot to think about, you in your room, just on the other side of his wall, holding in your moans so you wouldn’t wake him as you take—yeah, holy shit, 8 inches—into your needy warm–

No. No, Katsuki refuses. He’s not like pussy obsessed Kaminari or pussy whipped Kirishima. He will get through this quarantine without constantly drooling over you and when things go back to normal, he’ll spend more time out of the apartment and maybe clear his head of the ridiculous crush. People grow out of crushes all the time; he grew out of the high school crush he had on Mirko, surely he can grow out of this one.

Teasing you about the package when you’d finally gotten home from work hadn’t helped. You looked cute, blushing and scrambling to hide it and then threatening him after he’d spent a full ten minutes laughing at you. Four days into quarantine and Katsuki has definitely figured out his favorite pastime is riling you up. The two of you function so contrastingly differently it makes him grind his teeth in rage and the only way he’s able to feel better is watching you get just as angry and bothered. It’s cute and frankly he doesn’t have anything better to do other than the endless paperwork he has to work on from Endeavor’s agency, where he’s a sidekick.

It is also a welcome distraction away from the way you prance around the apartment in skimpy, tight clothes for your morning yoga. Katsuki is out of the apartment before you or just leaving as you wake up on a normal day, so he’s not aware of your morning routine. You wake up every morning, have a cup of coffee, then move to the living room to do an hour of yoga before getting in the shower. It would be fine—no it wouldn’t— if you weren’t so flexible and bendy and your ass didn’t sit propped up perfectly while you were upward dog or whatever. The shorts cup beneath your ass, the sports bra you wear pushes your tits up and every pose, every single pose, Katsuki has trouble not fantasizing about him tangled up with you.

And when you’re done and covered in a little sheen of sweat, tendrils of your hair sticking to your neck, you glow in the morning sun. As if he wasn’t already trying not to look in your direction. To get back at you, he works out in the living room around lunch time, shirtless. Katsuki knows he’s attractive and he’s seen you take second glances out of the corner of your eye when you think he’s not paying attention and everytime it inflates his already huge ego. So working out in the living room, grunting loudly as he lifts dumbbells and does push ups so his back muscles—which he’s noticed are what you seem to really enjoy, based on your lingering looks as he walks away—are defined.

This afternoon, you’ve stopped him in the middle of the workout to ask for ten minutes of quiet while you’re on an important call. Most of your interactions are full of snarky snide comments and rolled eyes, but he can tell you’re being really sincere when you ask him this time. Your eyes are wide, your eyebrows are furrowed and your hand is at your side playing with a loose thread on your pants nervously. This is important to you and Katsuki again has to swallow the rising dumb gushy feeling he gets when he realises it. He brushes past you as you stand in front of him, batting your lashes and speaking in a soft shaky voice.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’ll go to my room,” he responds as he walks off.

He can feel your stare burning into his back as he walks off and right before he closes the door to his bedroom he hears you mutter to yourself, “No, stop that.”

He smirks a bit to himself before shutting the door. Nice to know you both are in the same boat.

It’s finally Friday, which means the weekend will be here and you can relax and not think about work. It also means you’ll have more time spent with Bakugo without the excuse of work to stop you from carrying on a conversation with him. You’re not sure why you have butterflies in your stomach or why you’re not dreading this fact considering he’s been a complete asshole the entire week, but the idea of what he does during the weekend when he’s not out with his hero friends or working extra hours at the agency sparks your curiosity.

Work is easy today, most of your coworkers have taken off to start the weekend early and it seems like a pretty chill today. Even Bakugo seems quieter today. He’s sitting on the couch, earbuds jammed into his ears as he scrolls and texts someone furiously.You had a plan to make your favorite dinner tonight, spaghetti and meatballs, have a glass of wine, and watch Disney movies all night to unwind from the stressful week. You’ve been contemplating whether you want to invite him to join you or if he’ll just make fun of you and spend the whole weeknd closed up in his room.

You glance over at him as you continue typing your email. His scarlet eyes are still glued to his phone and he’s still texting quickly. He’s wearing his signature angry scowl but he also looks extremely bothered by something. For the first time since Quarantine started you feel something other than annoyance toward your roommate. You stop typing and turn to him now, eyes and voice wary.

“Hey Bakugo?”

“What I’m not even saying anything,” he growls without looking up. You smile for a second, amused by the fact that he knew you’d ask him to keep it down, but then you grow smug as you ask your next question.

“Actually, I was going to ask if you wanted to have dinner and watch a movie with me tonight,” you say cheekily as you bask in the confusion on his face as he finally looks up from his phone to peer at you.

“What?”

You clear your throat before repeating yourself, “I said do you wanna have dinner and watch a movie with me tonight? Come on, it’s the weekend, you got through all your paperwork, I heard you boasting about it to your friend on the phone the other day and you have nowhere else to go thanks to quarantine so why not?” you say, giving him a half smile.

He doesn’t respond for a long time, visibly contemplating his decision and you’re almost about to regret asking when he looks back up to you, crimson eyes glimmering.

“What movie?” He waits for your answer as you sheepishly look away and you know he’s judging you silently.

“A Disney movie, but I haven’t decided on which one, yet,” you mutter to yourself. He rolls his eyes and looks back down to his phone.

“Pass,” he says lazily and you puff up your cheeks.

“Oh come on! What is it with you and not wanting to accept the magical wonder that is Disney into your life,” you say throwing your arms up in the air. He chuckles as he watches you get riled up.

“It’s unrealistic. Who the fuck goes around singing what they’re thinking?” he retorts, raising an eyebrow and smirking teasingly at you.

“Ok, you have a point but come ON. Not ALL of the Disney movies have singing!”

“Oh really? Name one.”

He’s got you. You didn’t think before you spoke and now you’re rapidly filtering through every Disney movie checking to see which ones have no singing until it hits you. You’re also positive it’s one he will actually enjoy.

“Atlantis. It’s settled. I’m showing you Atlantis tonight and you’re going to sit and reserve judgement until the end,” you say, shutting your laptop and standing.

You place your hands on your hips and cock it to the side, waiting for his affirmation. You raise an eyebrow and purse your lips when he continues to stare up at you with the “You’ve got to be kidding me face.” When he finally realizes that you’re too stubborn to let it go, he sighs deeply, gets up from the couch to stand in front of you, and looks down into your eyes. He moves closer to you, so close you can smell his minty breath on your face.

“Fine,” he breathes and you blink in confusion as his soft tone catches you off guard. He smirks and you take a shaky step back away from him to move from his weird intoxicating aroma. You shake your head to clear your mind and smile in victory at him.

“Perfect. But first, we cook!” you say, skipping to the kitchen.

Bakugo follows behind you, watching as you pull out the ingredients for spaghetti and set them on the counter. His eyes widen and he scowls deeply when you pull two bottles of wine out.

“I ain’t drinking that bougie shit,” he says, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

You bend down, your butt poking out of the fridge to grab the plump tomatoes and fresh garlic and when you pop back up and close the fridge with your hip you quip, “Good it’s not for you to drink.”

He rolls his eyes and scoffs, “You’re gonna go through two bottles of wine in one night? You’re a fucking alcoholic.”

“And you’re a tactless jackass. We’ve got the makings of a shitty sitcom,” you say back, not even looking in his direction as you gather the pots and pans needed for dinner. It surprises you to hear him laugh, it explodes from him like he was desperately trying to keep it in. You look over your shoulder and smile at him and for a moment it feels like the two of you could actually be friends.

“One bottle is to cook with, the other is to drink,” you say pointing to each one.

You fill a pot with water and turn on the stove so it can start boiling as Katsuki leans a shoulder against the fridge watching you. “What the hell are you making anyway?”

You turn to look excitedly at him and you can swear you see him shift his eyes away quickly and hold in an embarrassed smile. “Spaghetti and meatballs!” you pronounce proudly.

“Ew.”

“God you really do ruin everything with every sentence that comes out of your mouth, huh? You sure that’s not your quirk?” you sigh, turning back toward the stove to prep the oven.

You can hear him hesitate and for a second you think you might have hurt his feelings and start to panic. But then you hear him scoff again behind you and you’re reassured.

“Spaghetti and meatballs is fucking gross because there’s never a correct ratio of pasta to sauce to meat,” he fusses.

“Yeah that’s if you don’t measure and you’re an amateur. Look I’ve spent years perfecting this recipe ok? And it is—and I’m not being cocky—the best spaghetti and meatballs I’ve ever had in my life,” you say as you wash the veggies and start to chop them.

There’s a small breeze next to your face and you turn to see him standing and watching you closely. You almost jump out of your skin again but the warmth radiating from his body soothes you. He’s looking over your shoulder at the hand holding the knife and gives you a disapproving look.

“You're chopping them wrong,” he says in a softer tone that you’re not used to. It still has the annoying edge to it, but it’s almost as if he’s whispering tenderly to you, like he doesn’t want to scare you. You can’t explain the thudding in your chest as he reaches out, his huge hands covering the one holding the knife.

“W...what?” He stands behind you now, arms wrapped around you, chest flush with your back and breath hot and tickling your neck. He’s holding your hand with the knife and reaching around to grab one of the tomatoes.

“That’s not how you dice vegetables, idiot. Do it like this.” He moves you to chop the tomato, hands engulfing yours as the knife slides through it with ease. In half the amount of time it took you to chop a tomato, he’s chopped four. When his breath on your neck finally starts to raise goosebumps on your skin and you’ve shoved the impulse to push your ass back on him, you pull away from him quickly stuttering about having to change into comfy clothes before starting on the sauce.

“Why don’t you just… chop the vegetables… and I’ll be back in a bit,” you stutter backing up down the hallway to your room. You close the door quickly, your hand on your chest as you stand there wondering what the hell that was.

Your perfume still lingers after you’ve left the room, kind of like your presence is Katsuki’s mind.

Wait, what the fuck? That was so corny. Even if it is a little true. Your perfume does smell nice, and it does invade all of his senses and makes him act differently than he usually does. Of course it does. Not like he would’ve pulled that chopping stunt if he were in a clearer mindset. He blows out a frustrated breath growling, “This is so fucking stupid.”

He watches the bubbles in the boiling water burst as steam billows up from the pot. How do Kirishima and the others do it? No wonder they’re never focused at their agencies. Too busy thinking about thick thighs and soft skin.

Idiots.

Although…he isn’t at the agency now. And your skin felt so soft and smooth under his calloused fingers. Your hair smelled sweet and from the angle he was standing at, he could see a tiny peek of your cleavage. He was very lucky you pulled away when you did. The growing tent in his pants would’ve definitely been hard to talk himself out of.

He shakes his head, blonde spikes swaying as he knocks a fist against his temples. ”Get it the fuck together moron,” he sneers to himself. He has a goal in mind, one he promised himself he wouldn’t give up on and that nothing would stand in his way. He will be Number One.

He repeats it over and over in his mind as he continues to chop the vegetables until you step back into the kitchen, shoulders squared with a look of determination. You’re wearing a red and black oversized t-shirt that hangs to your knees and what he hopes are shorts underneath and not just your panties.

“Ok, let’s get cooking!” you say in a preppy too excited tone. He rolls his eyes as you skip past him and add the noodles to the boiling water.

Katsuki isn’t aware of how long it takes to prepare this gross meal of yours but he is very intrigued by each step and how thorough you are in carrying it out. You measure everything precisely, sprinkle seasonings, and meticulously knead the balls of meat into perfect little spheres. Katsuki is even more impressed that you complete all these steps while causally keeping conversation with him.

“So what do you usually do on Friday nights when the world isn’t in pandemic mode?” you ask, squishing your hands into the ground beef in the bowl.

Katsuki lets out a loud puff of annoyed energy, “Usually I work late at the agency. Take time to fill out reports and crap. You know all the boring stuff I’d have a sidekick do once I’m number one.”

“Right right, you’re a sidekick at Endeavor's agency, yeah? With that one really handsome hero all the girls go nuts over. Shoto. Endeavor’s son, right?” you say not looking up and sticking your tongue out in concentration as you crack an egg into the mixture.

Katsuki silently seethes at you mentioning Shoto. He’s definitely past feeling inferior to Shoto. He’d even consider him a good...acquaintance, but hearing you talk about him like that…it makes his eyes squint and heat rise on the back of his neck. You notice his silence and look up at him with concern.

“Did I get it wrong? I thought you were a sidekick for the current number one hero,” you question.

Katsuki takes a deep breath to calm his nerves, “Yeah I am. And it sucks. I wanna open my own agency already but the old man says I ain’t ready yet.”

“Well you aren’t,” you say matter of factly as you place the finished meatballs in a skillet to sear them.

“Hah?”

He looks at you angrily and you meet his eye, unbothered with the way he’s shaking and trying not to explode on you. ”Bakugo, you live in a 900 sqft apartment with a roommate you split the rent with and you have a temper that's more ignitable than alcohol… speaking of,” you say, turning to grab the bottle you’ve labeled as the drinking wine and take a swig. He watches you gulp it down with narrowed eyes.

“My point is, you’ve still got a ways to go. It’s not easy opening your own agency and you’ve still got shit to learn,” you say, wiping your mouth.

He pouts, looking at the ground as he listens to you read the hell out of him in the middle of your shared kitchen. “Tsk, I know alright? I know I’m not the most popular hero like that pretty boy Shoto and I’m not a smiley idiot like Deku, but I get the job done. That’s what matters,” he says, not looking at you.

He can’t believe he’s talking about this so openly with you. It’s so easy and he doesn’t feel like he has to hold back when venting about his frustrations. You actually listen to him, but you don’t show him pity like he’s weak. You tell the truth, even if it’s not what he wants to hear—unfortunately. He respects it, hell he likes it, a lot, and it makes talking about other things on his mind —no not the dumb ass crush—seem more comfortable.

You pick up on the frustration in his voice and your turn to look at him once the meatballs are cooked to perfection. “You’re not a bad hero, Bakugo. You just need to show people a different side of you. Ya know, let people know you’re not just an angry jerk. You’re an angry jerk with feelings.” You chuckle and punch him lightly in the shoulder and he can’t help the tiny smile he flashes back to you.

You’re smashing tomatoes in a huge saucepan on the stove, and humming to yourself when Katsuki takes a breath, gathering courage. “Well? What about you? What do you do on a Friday night?” He huffs trying to sound uninterested.

It doesn’t work, you stop mid smash and look at him in disbelief. He instantly gets defensive, eyes bulging and grinding his teeth. “What! You get to ask me my life story and I’m not allowed to ask about you?”

You blink and then put your fingertips to your lips and giggle—cute, unfortunately—before you respond, “I just didn’t think you cared.”

“I don’t. I was bein’ nice,” he says, crossing his arms and turning away as you take another swig of wine and continue smashing the tomatoes.

“Right right. Well I’d probably be doing what I’m doing now. Making dinner, getting drunk and watching movies at home with my best friend. Or at her house,” you say.

Katsuki again swallows the jealousy he feels thinking about you spending time with someone who isn’t him. Will it always be like this? You aren’t even his yet.

Yet?!

His inner monologue is interrupted by you laughing to yourself, saying something about how horny your friend is and how she could use a few weekends to herself. He tries to quickly forget his slip up and singles in on the bait you've given him.

“Then you’re two horny peas in a pod,” he teases in a gravelly voice.

You squint and lift the wooden spoon covered in sauce up toward him. “Not a word about it you annoying little gremlin,” you say through your teeth. “Anyway, we’d watch a movie and drown our sorrows in alcohol and then fall asleep and run errands for the weekend. Start the cycle over and over,” you say sighing in defeat.

Katsuki doesn’t like your tone though. It bothers him, yes you're clearly being humorous but there’s some truth to your depressed tone when you speak.

“Nice to know I’m not the only one you force to watch those shitty movies,” he says trying to lighten the mood again.

You puff up your cheeks in that cute—fuck no stop not cute—pouty way and yell.

“I don’t force her! And for the last time, Disney movies are not shitty! They remind me of my childhood and my mom! And they just…make everything feel...less sad,” you say in a rush, that trickles off into a melancholy stammer.

There it is again, that sad tone echoing in his ears. He tries to hide the concern as you look at the ground sadly and then shake your head and plop your goofy pouty face back on.

Katsuki walks over and grabs the drinking wine from beside you, takes a few huge gulps, then winces as the tangy fruity liquid warms his insides and leaves him feeling tingly. “Ugh how do you drink this shit?” he asks, wiping his lips.

“I have a refined palate,” you say, snatching it from him and taking a sip.

“Yeah, clearly,” he responds, gesturing to the saucepan.

You lift up on your tiptoes to get close to his face and his heart almost stops. He can smell the wine on your breath, your eyelashes flutter as you blink slowly, the wine definitely starting to affect you.

“I’m going to make you eat those words when you finally taste this,” you mutter in a soft assured voice. Katsuki swallows loudly, his Adam’s apple gulping as he stares into your eyes. Your breath is hot on his face and he takes a safe step back away from you before smirking.

“Yeah I guess we’ll see then, won’t we Princess?”

The shit eating grin doesn’t stay on his face long. The shit’s delicious. Katsuki can’t find one thing wrong with it. Everything is cooked to perfection, nothing is too salty, the sauce to meatball to pasta ratio is indeed perfect. Hell, you even made it a little bit spicy just for him and it still is delicious. You’re both sitting on the couch now as you bounce excitedly and point the remote at the tv.

“I tolllllddd you,” you sing happily and Katsuki rolls his eyes for the fifth time.

“Yeah yeah I heard you the first time dummy,” he huffs out leaning back to get comfortable on the couch, belly full and relaxed.

He can feel the wine he drank—he had a glass with dinner as well-—sloshing in his stomach and tingling through his veins. He’s relaxed and enjoying your tipsy bubbliness. You seem really excited to show him this movie and for once he’s happy to indulge you. It’s a chill evening, the sun has finally set and only the light from the TV illuminates the two of you.

You’re both sitting on opposite ends of the couch, as far from each other as possible and Katsuki wishes you’d scoot closer. He momentarily contemplates moving closer to you but decides against it. Probably best to keep his distance, especially after how close you got to him in the kitchen.

The movie starts and Katsuki is instantly turned off by the beginning. The main character reminds him of Deku and the way his superiors treat him brings up bad memories.

It apparently dredges up memories for you as well. He hears you whisper, “Fuckers…ugh,” and Katsuki has to stop himself from laughing at you.

He can see you glance over at him during specific points in the movie, watching his reactions and facial expressions excitedly. He can’t tell if it’s the alcohol making him feel all mushy about it but he tries not to think about how happy he is that your eyes are on him instead of the movie.

As the movie continues and the action starts, Katsuki gets a bit more interested. He didn’t know people died in Disney movies and when one of the ships blows up from the weird fish thing attacking he nearly jumps off of the couch.

“Holy shit! You didn’t tell me people die in this! This is a fucking cartoon!” he yells excitedly. You smile big and bounce on your knees moving closer to him—which he absolutely doesn’t take notice of, shut up—as you squeal.

“I told you! Shit gets real in this movie!”

Katsuki is amazed that he’s actually enjoying it. When Kida is introduced, his eyes bug out of his head and you definitely pick up on it. You squint and give him a teasing smile, moving closer to poke his arm. It's warm where you touch him, almost burning and again he tries to ignore the sensation.

“You like her, don’t you? Think she’s hot?” you snicker.

“Shut up, idiot!” he screams, fanning your hand away as his ears turn red. You're laughing, holding your belly and leaning into his side as he grumbles to himself.

She’s supposed to be hot. Dumb ass animators drew her to be hot of course, plus she’s a bad ass and a fighter. He stops his inner monologue before it can betray him in comparing the made-up character to someone he knows in real life.

He is enjoying himself but there’s a pit in his stomach that hasn’t gone away since he first asked you about your Friday night plans. The sound of your sad tone bugs him, and he can still hear it. When the action has calmed down on screen and the two main characters are speaking to each other about their pasts, Katsuki looks over to you. You’re engrossed in the movie—this must be your favorite part—eyes wide as the blue light reflects in them. You’re right next to him now, not touching him but he can feel the warmth radiating from your body.

He coughs a bit nervously before he says in a gruff soft voice, “Hey.”

“Hmm?” you answer offhandedly.

“What did you mean earlier…uhh… ya know,... when you said these dumb movies make things feel less sad?” He struggles over the words, bracing himself for when you ask him why he even cares and he’s stuck floundering for an explanation, because why does he care?

“Oh, uhh well work is a disaster, my life’s a disaster so like…it helps to lose myself in a made up world where everything ends up being ok at the end.” You say this while shrugging and never taking your eyes from the screen. Almost like it’s natural, like what you’re saying isn’t extremely upsetting or like you’re not actually unhappy with it. Just like you’ve accepted it.

“Your life’s a disaster?” He stretches out and gets a bit more comfy, sneakily putting his arm on the back of the couch and therefore around you as if he’s claiming you as his.

You look at him now, eyes still wide but full of honest truth. He has a feeling you wouldn’t be this open and vulnerable if not for the wine but he’s thankful for it. He wants to know more about you.

“Well yeah. I’m stuck in a dead end job where I work my ass off for not enough pay. But I’m not gonna go anywhere because it’s something I’m good at even if it isn’t what I want to do. Plus I’m afraid of being a disappointment to my mother, which… I’m sure I already am considering where I’m at in life haha. But after a few years, I’ll probably move up in my company and get some recognition for all my hard work, and I don’t know, find a husband and settle down and have a few kids, because that’s life,” you finish, shrugging like it doesn’t bother you even though it clearly does.

Katsuki stares at you blinking and unsure of what to say. He stiffens when you suddenly lean into him, laying your head on his chest and sighing.

“Ahh but wouldn’t it be so cool to do something like Milo did? Go on adventures, see the world, discover new things. That’d be amazing,” you say dreamily.

Katsuki is shocked as he tries to process everything. Everything in him wants to hold you, pull you close to him and tell you you deserve that. Instead he only clears his throat and grunts.

“Tsk, you idiot. You’ve still got time to do all that shit. Your life ain’t over.” You move off of him to look in his eyes and he already misses the warmth your body provided.

“W...what are you saying?” you stutter, fluttering your eyelashes at him. He squints and then rolls his eyes.

“I’m sayin’ don’t rule yourself out yet moron. You still got plenty of time to do all the shit you wanna do. So stop sulking and go do it,” he grunts harshly before adding, ”And you’re not a fucking disappointment. I’ve heard you barking orders to those extras you work with. You keep them all in line. That’s not a disappointment. That’s good leadership.”

You blink in astonishment before smiling genuinely at him. “You know, you’re not that bad when you’re not being an asshole,” you say before laughing hysterically. Surprisingly he joins you and you both sit on the couch laughing with each other before you settle down and turn to look him in the eye.

“Hey for the record,” you say, getting close to his face. He doesn’t move back from you, gazing into your eyes as you take deep breaths and blink slowly up at him. “I think you’re a great hero and you’ll make it to number one in no time,” you finish.

Katsuki licks his lips as he stares into your eyes. A million thoughts are going through his mind. He wants you, so bad it hurts. It can’t be a good idea though. You’re tipsy and so’s he. It wouldn’t be right. Plus what if you're just like this because of the alcohol.

Your eyes are wide and he can tell you're thinking about it. He moves in a bit closer, can smell your breath and feel its warmth on his face. You smell so good he wants to taste you. His heart races and he bites his lip. He moves to reach up and caress your cheek.

A large explosion on the tv makes both of you jump in fright and you pull back away from each other. You quickly turn your attention to the movie and scoot away from him, clearing your throat.

“We’re almost to the end!” you say trying to restore the friendly atmosphere. But Katsuki knows there was something more happening. He won’t say anything, but it definitely won’t be leaving his mind anytime soon.

The thing about drinking wine, especially ¾ of the bottle, it means you will absolutely have to pee in the middle of the night. You always seem to forget that fact every time you drink, but when the clock hits 2 am and your body is suddenly awake and telling you to go, you’re unfortunately reminded. You stumble, eyes half open to your door, a droopy hand on the knob as your sleep filled mind thinks about the fact that you’re only in a t-shirt that barely covers your ass and panties. Nah, there’s no way Bakugo is still up, he’s an old man who goes to sleep at like 8 PM and when you both stumbled to bed after the movie it was like 11PM. He’s probably dead asleep.

You open the door groaning lightly to yourself as you stumble down the dark hallway to the bathroom. You’re so busy cursing your tiny bladder that you don’t hear the rustling in the bathroom and you don’t notice the door slightly cracked instead of being open to signal it’s vacancy. You tiptoe past Bakugo’s room toward the bathroom, put a hand on the knob, and waltz in before a breathy moan followed by your name stops you in your tracks. You’re confused, perhaps still a bit asleep, and thinking that maybe there’s a ghost calling your name?

You can hear wet slapping noises now, grunts and moans and whispered sounds of pleasure and your mind is now begging for a ghost to have been the one that said your name. Your eyes are wide open now as you stand frozen in the doorway.

Bakugo is sitting on the lid of the toilet, shirtless, pajama bottoms down around his ankles. His thighs are flexed as his feet dig into the cute mat around the bottom of the toilet you bought when you first moved in. His head is leaning back, eyes squeezed shut as his large hand moves up and down his very thick—yes you can still tell in the dark—cock. His hand is glistening with precum that dribbles down his shaft and the bathroom is filled with lewd wet noises as he speeds up and bucks into his hand.

The muscles in his thighs flex again and his pecks heave up and down as his breathing increases. He’s grinding his teeth, a peek of his gums showing over his curled up lips, his eyebrows are pulled together in concentration and bliss and when he breathes out and groans in ecstasy, you can see his Adam's apple bob. There’s a sheen of sweat over his body, glistening in the moonlight shining through the tiny window and the erotic scene not only has your pussy dribbling but reveling at how beautiful he is.

He sucks in a breath, still not aware of your presence and you can tell he’s close to finishing. He lifts his hips up into his hand again and growls through his teeth, “Fuck baby, you feel so good around my cock.”

You blink, lick your lips, try to stay quiet until you hear him on the cusp of release groan your name, loud and long and you squeak giving away your presence.

“Oh my god,” you say, breaking the silence.

Bakugo’s head whips up and he stares wide eyed at you, cock still in hand, frozen in actual mortified fear. The two of you stand in shock staring at each other for what seems like hours until you repeat, “Oh my god!” this time with feeling and race out of the bathroom and back to your room.

That. Happened. That actually happened. You’re lying in your bed that morning, staring at the ceiling trying to make sense of everything. You know Bakugo is up, you can hear him banging around in the kitchen and starting his usual workout, but you cannot find the courage to get out of bed and face him.

You’re almost a little jealous of how shameless he is. He saw your dildo and you wanted to hide in your room until the dinosaurs roamed the Earth again, but you catch him jacking it and he gets to stroll around the apartment like he won an award for World’s Best Jacker?

Fuck it.

You get up pulling on comfy shorts and walking to the bathroom to pee—yes you held it the entire night after the incident—and brush your teeth and comb your hair. You look in the mirror once more before departing out into the kitchen.

You still can’t believe he said your name. Bakugo was fantasizing about you. To say you’re flattered is an understatement. To say you’ve never thought about him while you got yourself off would be a lie. To say that you didn’t spend all night replaying the scene and thinking about how pretty his cock was would also be a lie.

You shake your head, clearing your mind as you stare at his back. He’s standing at the stove making something that smells delicious for breakfast. “Ahem...good morning. That umm...smells good,” you say nervously.

He doesn’t turn around, just continues swishing whatever is in the pot around and replies, “Course it smells good. I’m cooking it.”

You roll your eyes and sigh, “Ah so this morning in the bathroom was just so you could reset your asshole levels. Got it.” You stroll over to the coffee maker, pulling out the coffee grounds and turning it on to make your morning cup.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he says, peering angrily over his shoulder.

You look at him in disbelief. Really? He’s gonna act like it didn’t fucking happen? Fat chance of you ever letting this go, especially after he laughed for ten minutes about the fucking dildo. But for now it’s too early to argue and you desperately need coffee if you’re going to get through the rest of the day.

“God, nevermind.” You press the button on the coffee maker and sit at the bay window waiting for it to finish. It’s raining today so the sun isn’t shining through the windows. The clouds block the sun and the pitter patter of rain is soothing.

“So uhh…” Bakugo starts and you almost think he’s going to be the one to bring it up. Instead he says, “I liked the dumb ass Disney movie you showed me last night and I want you to show me more.”

He’s finally turned around toward you and he’s holding two plates with an omelet and fried fish on it. He’s thrown you off again.

“Wait.. really?” you ask incredulously.

He places the plate in your hand then sits at the small table and uses his chopsticks to stab and slice the skin of the fish open. “Yeah, but none of the shitty singing ones. More ones with violence and adventure. And then tonight, I’ll cook dinner for you and show you my favorite movie, since it’s only fair.” He says the last part quietly under his breath.

You glance down at the plate in your hands, and when the coffee pot beeps you get up, place the plate on the table across from him and go to pour yourself a cup. You gesture to the full coffee pot, “Want some?”

He curls his lip up in disgust, ”Tch not a chance. That shit stunts your growth.”

You roll your eyes, turn back toward the cupboard and pull out another mug. You pour a cup, add a bit of cream and sugar to each and then walk over to set one of them in front of him. When he shoots you a pointed look you respond in a sassy voice, “That’s just a myth, idiot.”

For the first time in six months since you two moved in, you two have breakfast together and it’s pleasant. You learn that neither of you are morning people and you enjoy the quiet and rather not speak. You eat in silence, except for when you compliment and thank him for the omelette. He doesn’t even give you a cocky reply, just quietly says you’re welcome before grabbing both of your plates after you finish and washing them silently. He even drinks all the coffee but refuses another cup when you get up to pour yourself another.

You don’t know if it’s just because it’s the morning, or if it was the little heart to heart you had last night during the movie that makes him seem softer, but you like this side of him...a lot.

You watch him wash the dishes as you sip your coffee and again filter through the disney movies you can show him. You decide on Pirates of the Carribean—only the first three because anything after those you despise— and as he places the wet dishes in the drying rack you tap him on the shoulder.

His skin is warm and surprisingly soft despite the scars littered down his back and when he turns to look at you his scarlet eyes bore into you and warm your insides.

“Erm…Pirates of the Caribbean. That’s what we’ll watch. There are three of them so cancel all your plans,” You say smiling brightly and shimmying in excitement so much your coffee plops up on your cheek.

He smirks the cute little half smile you’ve come to find endearing. “You're such a dork,” he goads and uses the shirt wrapped around his neck to wipe the coffee from your cheek.

Again you’re both caught off guard by this soft intimate little exchange and Bakugo’s face divulges that he wasn’t thinking about what he did. Your face heats up and you turn away from him.

“I’m gonna shower before we start, ok?” You walk to the bathroom and shut the door.

You try and fail to not think about how Bakugo was sitting here last night, rubbing his cock to the thought of you while you turn on the water. A nice hot long shower will clear your head, yes.

You’ll enjoy the rest of your Saturday and maybe just maybe you’ll come out of this weekend with a new friend. Just a friend. When your mind wanders again to the way his back muscles looked this morning, you wrench the bathroom door open and yell down the hall.

“And would it kill you to put a shirt on?” When you hear him grunt a playful “Fuck off” down the hall you chuckle and close the door.

Fucking. Hell.

Katsuki slaps a hand over his eyes in embarrassment and relief. He’s dodged another bullet. You didn’t say anything about last night, except for that one sly comment. But goddammit this is becoming difficult.

You make it so hard to not like you, to not be comfortable with you and let his guard down. Watching that movie with you last night was the calmest he’s ever felt and dare he say he had fun hanging out with you. He curses himself for both not pulling you to him to kiss you and also wanting to kiss you. What if you reject him? What if you don’t like him as much as he likes you?

Fuck, that is entirely possible. You call him an asshole every chance you get, with good reason. He sighs and does what he always does when he starts to doubt himself, text Kirishima. When he doesn’t answer and Katsuki can hear the water of the shower turn on, he texts the group chat instead.

(10:42 AM): I fucked up.

Mina: Well good morning to you too Katsuki.

(10:44 AM): Good Morning I fucked up.

Hanta: You mind giving some more details?

(10:44 AM): Wait Mina you just responded? Where the fuck is Eijirou?

Mina: Asleep, why?

(10:45 AM): Because I texted him first.

Dumb Ass: Oh I see so we’re just your second choice then?

(10:45 AM): Yes. Idiot.

Dumb Ass: Why do you always have to be so mean?

Hanta: Anyway back to the issue because I am nosy. What happened Katsuki?

(10:50 AM): I almost kissed her.

Mina: Yay! That’s great! Why almost? Is that the fuck up?

(10:50 AM) No let me finish dammit.

(10:53 AM) I almost kissed her, but I chickened out and she was a little tipsy so it just felt wrong. But then…

Dumb Ass: Dude with all the suspense. Come on already, what did you do? Flash her or somethin’?

(10:55AM): ...

Dumb Ass: NO WAY.

Mina: KATSUKI TELL ME YOU DID NOT WHIP OUT YOUR DICK LIKE ONE OF THOSE WEIRD PERVY DUDES YOU SEE ON TRAINS.

Hanta: DUDE WHAT THE HELL?

Eijirou: I’M HERE YOU DID WHAT?

(10:57AM): Oh so the mention of my dick will wake you up?

Eijirou: Actually Mina’s yelling woke me up. Now don’t change the subject!

(10:58 AM): I DIDN’T FLASH HER OK?

Mina: I never thought I would ever have to type this out to you Katsuki, but I’m proud of you for not flashing your dick to your roommate.

(10:58 AM): Shut up.

Hanta: SO WHAT HAPPENED THEN?

(11:03 AM): She may have caught me… you know…

Dumb Ass: LOL She caught you beating your meat??!?!

Eijirou: You beat your meat?

(11:03 AM): DUH! I’M ONLY HUMAN!

Eijirou: That’s kind of hot.

Mina: Keep it in your pants big guy, I'll take care of you later.

Hanta: Gross.

(11:04 AM): Agreed

Dumb Ass: Hot.

Mina: Shut up. ANYWAY, What did she say? Did she like, see everything or just oops walk in and then shut the door.

(11:06 AM): ...she saw everything. I...said her name.

Eijirou: No fucking way.

Hanta: Dude you’re whipped.

Dumb Ass: I'M SCREENSHOTTING THIS ENTIRE CONVERSATION AND SAVING IT FOREVER. THE KATSUKI BAKUGO GOT CAUGHT MASTURBATING AND MOANING HIS CRUSH’S NAME.

(11:07 AM): You screenshot this and I will end you.

Mina: WHAT HAPPENED AFTER?

(11:08 AM): Nothing. She ran back to her room and then we woke up and I made her breakfast and now we’re going to watch more shitty Disney movies.

Mina: Aww that’s kind of sweet. You made her breakfast?

Dumb Ass: Wow Katsuki makes a “sorry you saw my dick and heard me fantasizing about fucking you” breakfast and he’s sweet but I don’t text a girl back ONCE.

Mina: Denki you GHOSTED that poor girl. You get no sympathy from me, asshole.

(11:11 AM): Yeah you’re an asshole.

Hanta: Did she say anything to you about it this morning?

(11:12 AM): No.

Hanta: Then you’re good. Don’t freak out and enjoy the day. It’s obvious you like her a lot.

(11:14 AM): It ain’t that simple. What if she doesn’t like me?

Hanta: Dude she saw your dick and heard you moan her name and she’s still talking to you.

Eijirou: Hanta’s right man, if she’s still sticking around after that, it's kind of safe to assume she likes you. Just start there and don’t overthink it.

Mina: Yeah and next time if she moves in closer to you, grab her face and kiss her all romantic like! If she moves closer it means she’s inviting you to kiss her!

Dumb Ass: Yeah bro in all seriousness I’m happy for you. She seems like a cool girl and if you like her this much, I’d say go for it.

(11:20 AM): Thanks.

Dumb Ass: And then if you fuck it up, I can swoop in and be her knight in shining armor.

Mina: DENKI!

(11:21 AM): fuck off.

Dumb Ass: I’m joking!

Katsuki shoves his phone back into his pocket. Hanta’s right. You didn't seem to mind and you looked excited to watch more movies with him. He takes a deep breath in and out, calming his nerves. He hears the water in the shower stop and he prepares himself.

--

The first movie is a success in keeping you both enthralled in the action. Katsuki really enjoys the way you watch movies. Even though you’ve definitely seen them all many times before, you still watch them with the same excitement as if it’s the first time you’re seeing it.

It not only makes the movie entertaining but the experience of watching it with you enjoyable as well. Like last night he finds himself watching you more than the movie. You’re sitting next to him on the couch—not a full couch cushion away but right next to him—with crossed legs and wide eyes as you stare at the screen.

The two of you chat in between scenes and the fifth time you say “I fucking love pirates” while watching a sword clashing scene, he says it with you and you both laugh.

“Yeah yeah I know. You fucking love pirates,”

You spend the afternoon snacking on popcorn, giggling and asking each other questions as you watch through the trilogy. He learns your favorite color and about the time you accidentally shaved half your head and then wore it through most of high school:

“How do you accidentally shave half your head?”

“You accidentally shave one patch off and then keep going because you think you can ‘fix it’. It worked out though because I looked super hot and intimidating and no one fucked with me for the rest of the school year.”

You learn about his first hero name and about the cute little sailor outfit his mom dressed him in for pictures when he was 5 that you unfortunately talked him into showing you:

“Wait until everyone hears that “King Explosion Murder” took cute pictures as a wittle baby sailor”

“You utter a word about it to anyone and I’ll personally see to it that you never type another tweet again,”

Katsuki never ever gets tired of the screeching wheezing laughter you emit when one of the pirates on screen does some stupid shit, or the way you giggle behind your hands when he comments about how cool one of the characters is. Barbossa may be a villain but he’s badass and has the best lines.

The afternoon carries on as the rain continues to beat against the window and Katsuki only has to tell himself to stop looking at your thighs in the shorts you wear three times which is quite the accomplishment. You step out halfway through the third movie to answer a call from your mother that takes literally two hours and when you come back out of your room, you're smiling apologetically at him. He’s in the kitchen chopping vegetables when you waltz out.

“Geez took you long enough.”

“Sorry, that woman doesn’t know the meaning of ‘a quick chat’,“ you say laughing. You stand next to him, peering over his shoulder at the vegetables he’s chopping. “Whatcha making?”

“Spicy curry, full of vegetables to combat all the sweet sugary bullshit you pumped into my body today,” he says smugly. You hop up on the counter next to him kicking your legs as you watch him chop. You swipe a chopped carrot from the pile and pop it into your mouth.

“Hey I didn’t pump anything into you. I only have control over what I pump into myself,” you say, chewing and wiggling your eyebrows.

“I’m aware of what you spend your money on. Remember?” He teases, continuing to chop and enjoying the way your eyes go wide and you turn away from him in embarrassment again.

“Yeah well, I’m aware of your early morning activities so you have no room to talk,” you say back reaching for another carrot but before you can pick one up Katsuki catches your wrist in his large hand. His body moved before he could think again and he’s staring at you with a tense glare as your eyes widen. You look almost frightened and he scolds himself for scaring you, but he softens his gaze and loosens his grip.

“So you did see,” He grunts.

“Yeah,” is all you respond.

There’s a long pause as neither of you look at each other. Katsuki is still holding your wrist, idly rubbing his thumb over your soft skin. This is it. This is where you tell him to fuck off for being a perv.

“But…I liked it.”

What?

He tears his eyes from the floor to look at you and he finds you batting your lashes at him and smirking. He tried to keep a steady pace of his breathing but he’s tingling inside with anxiety and excitement as he replays your words over and over to decipher the meaning. His hand moves from your wrist to grasp your hand now and he watches your reaction carefully.

“What’d you say?” he asks, a devilish grin playing on his lips. He drops the knife and turns around to stand in between your legs. He sighs under his breath in relief when you open your thighs to welcome him in. You're cheekily smiling at him, batting your eyelashes like an innocent school girl confessing a crush.

“I said I liked it.” It’s a light whisper, breathy like you have no control over your breathing and then Katsuki is wrapping his arms around your waist, digging his fingers into your hips and pulling you closer to him. Your ass is halfway on the counter now and you're both so close, hearts beating quickly as you stare into each other's eyes.

Katsuki tries to shut all the thoughts running through his mind out but he’s only a little worried he’ll move too quickly and you’ll push him away. He can feel your hands wrapping around his neck and pulling him closer, your thighs wrapping around his torso and squeezing him and you even bite your lip as you look at him.

It’s all the signs that you want him to kiss you and he still hesitates. He knows there’s no turning back if he does this. You’ve already got him wrapped around your finger. Hanta was right, he is whipped and the second he gets to feel your lips against his, he’ll want nothing but you. So he looks into your eyes, feels you tighten your thighs around his waist and push your tits into his chest, he flashes you his signature shit eating grin.

“You sure you don’t wanna go grab the dick?”

Your eyes widen and then you roll them sassily, “Oh my go-” before he crashes his lips into your open mouth and slips his tongue between your soft lips. The second his lips collide with yours and his tongue is tasting you, you moan like it’s the first time you’ve been kissed in a long time. Your fingers pull the hair at the nape of his neck and he grunts as he pulls your hips closer to him and grinds his cock against your thigh.

Katsuki hasn’t kissed many people but it wouldn’t matter if he had because your lips would still be the softest lips he’s ever kissed. He’s blown away by how good you taste, how your lips move against his, how you bite his lip and tug his hair greedily and it makes his cock ache. You’re definitely not as shy as you’d have him believe. Your grinding against him, moaning pathetically and goddammit he wants to see you naked and begging and stuffed full of his cock.

When he pulls away from you to take a breath, your pupils are blown, you’re breathing hard and biting your lip and he can see you weren’t ready for him to pull away just yet. But he has plans for you, plans that do not include fucking you right here on the counter next to the food even though he desperately wants to. So instead he cups your face between his big hands and gives you a peck on the lips, silently enjoying the ease of doing so.

“Alright you horny freak, you should eat before things get too hot and heavy,” he says trying to turn the hard on in his sweatpants away from your leg.

~~~

He’s joking right. He’s got to be joking. You’re sitting with your super sexy—might as well admit it—roommate between your legs after he just made out with you. You thought you were about to be dicked down and he just...stops and talks about continuing dinner?

This man is truly an enigma, he fucks his fist to the thought of you, makes you breakfast the next morning and pretends you didn’t catch him doing it and then when he finally confronts you about it, he kisses you then tells you to he’s gonna finish dinner instead of fucking your brains out like what would’ve happened in a romcom. Not to mention the complete shift of his personality. You can hardly believe just a few days ago you were at each other’s throat.

He takes your face between his hands, kisses you again, then moves from between your legs to start chopping again.

“No goddamn way,” you pout as he laughs at you. “There’s no way I am the horny freak. Not after you diddled yourself to the thought of me!”

“Don’t ever fucking say I ‘diddled’ myself again,” he responds, now glowering at you.

“I’ll say what I want,” you reply bratty and he drops the knife and stands in front of you again. He scrutinizes you for a second, raising an eyebrow and squinting.

“You’re actually upset, aren’t you? You’re such a fucking brat,” he says, half shocked and half amused. You poke out your lips and raise your eyebrow as well.

“So what if I am? Too much for you to handle?” you challenge and his eyes darken.

You smirk and before you can do anything more he’s on his knees in front of you. He pushes your thighs apart and sinks his teeth into your skin before sucking to stop the blood flow and leave a huge mark.

His tongue is warm and you moan instantly when he kisses there. His fingers keep your thighs pushed apart as he blazes a path of kisses up your inner thigh sucking and licking and biting as he goes. He speaks in between each kiss.

“You have… no...fucking.. Idea… how much I’ve wanted this.”

You bite your lip, he hasn’t even gotten close to your pussy yet and you’re already moaning like a pornstar. Great way to let him know how desperate you were for some action. Still he’s really really good at this, like too good at this and you wonder how many times he’s done this.

When he finally does make it up to your clothed pussy his fingers move to the waistband of your shorts and he looks up at you, scarlet eyes gleaming between your thighs.

Permission. He’s wordlessly asking or—pleading judging by his increased breathing and quiet groans—for permission to keep going, while his warm breath is still caressing your thighs and his mouth is still sucking and making a mark on your inner thigh. His eyes look feral like your word of consent will release a beast.

You look down at him and nod and he moves so fast pulling the shorts down your legs you have no time to be shocked that your bare pussy is right in front of his face now.

“You probably taste so fucking good. I’ve been waiting to know what you taste like,” he groans as he stares at your pussy, glistening with slick from his kisses and words.

You’re gnawing on your bottom lip at his confession and you breathe his name, a silent plea for him to do something as the cool air makes goosebumps rise on your skin. He pushes your thighs further apart to get a better look, licking his lips like a hungry animal.

“What a pretty pussy,” he whispers and you gasp at the praise. Then he uses his fingers to pull your lips apart, succumbing to his desire to finally taste you. He surprises you with tiny quick licks, cleaning the dribbling slick, slipping down your ass and thighs and even that almost sends you over the edge.

You throw your head back , eyes closed, “Oh… oh fuck Baku-“

The absence of his lips makes your eyes pop open and you’re about to release a string of the foulest language ever spoken for him teasing you again. But when you look into his eyes and see the seriousness you grow a bit worried.

“No,” he says simply. Your eyes bug out of your head.

Panting you respond, “No...what?”

“I’m not about to be face first in your pussy and listen to you call me ‘Bakugo’ like I’m some common guy you met on the street,” he huffs. You cannot believe he’s between your legs, mouth literally inches from your pussy, having this conversation.

“That’s your name. What else do you want me to call you, ‘daddy’?” you quip, trying to sneakily scoot your cunt closer to his face.

The shit eating grin returns and there's a quick glint that flashes across his eyes. He runs a finger through your folds, coating his finger and popping it into his mouth. You whine a squeaky desperate mewl.

He chuckles and it’s dripping with the cocksure tenor of a man who knows exactly what he’s doing.

“I don’t have to ask people to call me that, Princess. That comes later. For now, ’Katsuki’ is fine.”

Before you can roll your eyes from the annoyance of his cocky statement you feel his tongue flatten against your folds and lick with gusto. Your eyes instead roll to the back of your head and like he’s using magic to pull words from you, you whimper his name and grind your clit against his nose.

“Oh...fuck...K...Katsuki.” It feels good in your mouth, all the syllables tumbling from your lips in a moan, almost like it was meant to be moaned.

You can feel him chuckle against your pelvic bone and it strangely adds to the pleasure he’s bestowing upon you. Then he opens his mouth and spits on your clit before sucking it loudly, spit mixing with your cum as he slurps and groans into your pussy.

You know he’s talented. You know he’s a strong, pro hero with kick ass instincts and lots of intelligence, but the way he eats pussy, this must be his secret talent. He’s talking against your clit as his tongue runs intricate little patterns over it, filthy things that make your cheeks heat up, your heart race, your moans louder and sends your ego through the roof.

“You taste so fucking good. I knew you would. I fucking knew it. So pretty… such a pretty pussy… want you to squirt all over my tongue.”

You don’t think he can push his face any further into your cunt, that is until he takes both hands, spreads your folds, and pistons his tongue into you. He has you seeing stars and your hands immediately fist into his hair, white hot pleasure pooling in your core.

He’s growling now as you pull his locks in pleasure, grinding against his nose as he pushes his tongue deeper into your walls. Your jaw drops and you lean farther back on the counter arching your back.

“You gonna come for me? Already? I haven’t even given you my fingers yet,” He growls between your thighs, eyes shining from below you.

“Shut… the fuck…UP,” you manage to get out and again he laughs against your pussy and makes you jerk at the jolt of pleasure.

He reaches up to grind circles on your clit with his thumb and again you whimper and squeak in pleasure. “Who’s too much to handle?”

He has full control over you now and you give in willingly. You can’t even think of a witty response back to him. Your mind is too focused on his thumb moving faster and faster over your mound. “Katsuki, please… I can’t… I’m gonna…”

You're on the cusp of release, panting, shaking, moaning, the coil in your belly tightening as he grows hungrier. He growls louder, grunting and slurping excessively nibbling your clit, pulling at your lips, and coaxing you to come on his face.

“Come for me princess.”

You oblige, dropping your head back and moaning as your cum drips down your thighs and sprays on his face. He opens his mouth and accepts your juices graciously, licking your thighs and pussy to clean up the mess.

“Oh my fuck…” you gasp trying to catch your breath.

When he’s all done and your body relaxes from the onslaught of pleasure, you sit back up on the counter, the lip leaving an indentation from you sitting on the edge. Katsuki, still crouching between your legs, flashes all of his teeth with a hint of gum on the side before he slaps a wet open mouthed kiss onto your clit and snorts when you jolt, whimper, and push his head away.

“Now, like I said. It’s time for dinner.”

---

Katsuki is loading a huge helping of rice and curry onto two plates, face still sticky with your juices. He revels in it, plays the way you moaned his name over and over in his mind, how it rolled off your tongue, how right it felt coming from you and his pants tighten.

There isn’t anything that could ever be better than eating your pussy, except maybe fucking you. He clears his throat as he thinks about it again and turns to you. You’re sitting on the counter next to him again, a different pair of shorts on now and a huge smile on your face as you watch him move around the kitchen.

“Eat,” he grunts, shoving the plate in your hands.

You giggle, obviously basking in your post-orgasm bliss and hop down from the counter to go and sit at the small kitchen table. “You’re so bossy.”

“Tch, I just cooked dinner with your cum still on my face. I have every right to be bossy. Now shut up and tell me how good my cooking is,” he snaps back.

“Well I could suck your dick in exchange for the pre-dinner face riding,” you flirt back licking your lips.

Katsuki groans low wriggling to readjust the way his cock twitches against his leg in his baggy sweatpants. His eyebrows are furrowed in frustration as he saunters over to place his plate down on the table, then he swiftly grabs your cheeks in between his strong fingers and makes you look up at him.

“That wasn’t some sort of transaction. I didn’t do it so you could return the fucking favor or anything. I did it because I fucking wanted to. Got it?” he says, glaring seriously into your eyes. You nod once and he releases you and sits down across the table. He grins a toothy smile when you take a bite of the curry and put your hand up to your cheek in shock.

You scarf the rest down happily and he wouldn't admit this aloud but the fact that you enjoy his cooking makes him almost as proud as he would feel if he were the number one hero. When you’re both done eating and sitting back on the couch to finish the ending of the movie, you pat your belly satisfied.

“A man of many talents, I see,” you say, tipping an imaginary hat to him and he laughs and mutters “dork” again under his breath. “No but seriously, where’d you learn to do that?”

“Cooking is easy dummy,” he shrugs and presses play. Leave it to you to be easily impressed by everything. You scrunch your nose—how is everything you do so cute?—and scoff.

“I’m not talking about cooking, dummy,” you say mockingly and when he realizes what you mean he smiles wickedly.

“That’s just called being talented toots.” He says this with the same air of confidence he does when he tells everyone he’ll be number one.

To his surprise you don’t roll your eyes or snap back with a witty comment. Instead you drop your eyes and fiddle with the hem of your shorts anxiously.

“A lot of practice, I assume?” You say, voice wavering and not looking at him. He understands what you’re insinuating and raises an eyebrow.

“Maybe a few,” he responds nonchalantly.

“A few?”

“What are you? A parrot? Yeah a few.”

“And how many is a ‘few’?” You’re smiling a wily cat smile as you scoot closer to him on the couch and poke his bicep annoyingly. He blows out a frustrated noise.

“Like two or three, alright? Why the fuck does it matter?”

“Oh,” You blink as the number catches you off guard. He can’t read your expression, can’t tell whether the number is higher or lower than you expected. Either way it’s annoying not knowing what you’re thinking. He takes the chance to make it less awkward and boost his ego again.

“I don’t fuck every girl who throws her pussy at me,” he huffs squinting his eyes and turning to watch the tv grumpily.

“So there’s a lot of girls throwing pussy at you?” you inquire. He can tell you’re trying to stay nonchalant but the slight quiver of your voice at the end of the sentence gives you away.

Are you actually jealous? The thought makes Katsuki’s heart beat race and feeds his ego once again. He could reassure you that the others he slept with weren’t nearly as good as you and that he didn’t have interest in anyone else but you, but why ruin the fun? Instead he shrugs, peeping at you from the corner of his eye.

“Why? Are you jealous?”

“Nothing to be jealous about,” you say, turning away and it looks like you’re giving up on something.

He grabs your wrist and pulls you back closer to him. Your warm body is against his chest now, one leg swung over his torso and a hand over his heart. His arm is wrapped around the small of your back and he pulls your face close, glaring into your eyes.

“You’re right. Cuz I don’t want anyone else,” he rasps in a husky voice.

He squeezes your hip and you bite your lip, your eyes narrowing as a sensual smile flutters onto your lips. You reach a hand up to stroke his cheek and he closes his eyes to concentrate on your soft nimble fingers as you move them up the side of his face to play in his hair.

You lick your lips, move closer and run them over his as you speak. “Tell me what you were thinking about when you were...”

You grind your thigh over his cock, rapidly growing again in his sweatpants and he grinds his teeth. “You know what I was thinking about.”

You’re close to his ear now, voice barely above a whisper as your hands move up and down his chest. He sucks in through his teeth, feeling your teasing fingers draw patterns in his chest, lingering on his raised nipples. You giggle and kiss his neck and he clears his throat to stop the loud groan pushing its way up his throat.

“I want to hear you say it, Katsuki.” His name again falling from your lips with familiarity, like you’ve known him a lifetime and then in a firmer demanding tone, “Tell me.”

He’s heard this tone before, when you’re on conference calls with your dumb ass coworkers and you’re handling business. His heart is thumping in his chest and he closes his eyes, digs his fingers into your hip and thigh, grinds up against your leg now putting pressure on his cock.

Your command awakens something in him. He’s not one to take orders from anyone. But the way you’ve captured him, he’ll only admit it in his head, if you were to tell him to do anything right now, he’d do it without hesitation.

And so, he speaks through heaving breaths and groans caught in his throat as you continue to kiss and lick his neck, laying out his fantasy for you.

“I thought about making you...fuck...scream my name, and watching you sink down on my cock, begging me for more,” he says through clenched teeth.

Your hand runs down his chest and for the first time you grasp his dick through his sweatpants. He groans now, no longer trying to hold it in as you palm it and lick his earlobe.

“I’m not really one to beg, you’d have to be really good,” you tease, rubbing up and down his shaft.

He grinds his teeth again. “Always such a fucking...teas-”

A guttural noise oozes from him when your hand plunges down his pants to grasp his bare cock.

Your hand is so fucking soft, warm and small and dainty. He’s twitching uncontrollably in your hand and your moaning and sucking on his neck is almost enough to send him over the edge. He bucks up, flexing his thighs and hips trying to get you to move but instead you grip him tightly, press down on his thighs and keep him situated in place.

“What the fuck are you-“ he grunts between clenched teeth, growing annoyed at your incessant teasing.

“Shut up and don’t move,” you purr. You slide down his body, force his legs open and situate yourself between them on your knees. You keep your eyes on his, hand still plunged inside of his pants playing with the precum quickly oozing from his tip.

A faint smirk plays on your lips as you slowly shimmy his pants down his hips. You help him step out of them, lifting one foot and then the other before throwing them to the side. The cool air in the room relieves the burning need for your pretty lips to be wrapped around his cock and he sighs.

His eyes bore into yours, not daring to flit away for a moment as you appraise him with a hungry lust in your eyes. He watches you lick your lips hungrily before you whisper, “It’s so pretty, Katsuki.”

His hips jerk up and he clenches his fists at his side. Every fantasy of you he’s dreamed up is nothing compared to how desirable you look right now, on your knees and praising him.

You quirk an eyebrow as he sucks in a quick breath, a hissing noise sliding through his teeth as you bring the tip of his cock to your lips. You kiss it, a quick peck right on the tip and his precum glosses your lips.

You giggle and breathe heavily over his aching cock, grasp him again, your hand barely able to wrap around his girth and lock eyes with him. You’re smiling seductively at him, a bit playful and fuck, if he’s doesn’t feel your mouth around his dick anytime soon he won’t be able to hold back anymore.

“I’m doing this because I fucking want to. Got it?” you parrot his words from earlier before you lick long and slow from the crease in his balls all the way up to the slit of his dick.

“Ffffuckkkk,” he hears himself say. It feels like an out of body experience, your slow deliberate kitten licks as your tongue swirls around every portion of his cock. You moan in response smiling as you move back down to his balls and pop one into your mouth, sucking with gusto.

You’re worshipping him, he’s ready to burst and you haven’t even taken him all the way into your mouth yet. Seems he’s not the only talented one. He lifts a hand to fist it into your hair as you take his other ball into your mouth and suck graciously.

“Unf…that’s so fucking good,” he moans

Your hand moves quickly to grasp his wrist and pin it back to his side, firm and tight. Your message is clear. You’re in charge right now and he will listen. If this were another time, if you were someone else, if the desire slotted deep in his core burning it’s way down to his cock weren’t so deep, he’d show you who’s boss.

For now though, he focuses on not shooting his cum onto your face as you lick up his shaft again. You slob all over it, mixing with slick before you look at him and command, “watch me.”

You wrap your lips around him and take him deep down your throat watching him with hollowed cheeks as you sink down.

All of his muscles tense as he groans in bliss, veins popping out on his forehead and hands as he tries to keep them put at his side. He doesn’t dare take his eyes off of you, he curls up his lip, showing his pointy canines and focusing on your throat.

You start moving, bobbing your head up and down, slurping and gagging as you struggle to keep his thick shaft down your throat. Your tongue swirls around him and when you lift up to take a breather, he can’t hold back anymore.

He bucks his hips up, placing his large hand on your head and luckily not catching you off guard. Instead you reach up to grab his wrist, maneuver yourself so he can easily keep thrusting up into your mouth and moan around his cock, encouraging him to continue. He plunges down your throat, fucking your face and losing himself in your gags and moans.

“Fuck, fuck baby. You’re so good, you suck dick like a fucking pro, oh fuck oh fuck,” he praises as he feels the pressur in his gut build to a release. He’s so close, limbs twitching as he squeezes his eyes shut. He can feel you dig your nails into his muscular thighs and he’s about to shoot sticky hot cum down your throat.

“Can I-unf...down your throat? Can you take it baby? All of it?” he grunts through labored breaths and just as you whine what sounds like an affirmation, he thrusts one last time and holds your face down, growling and grunting as you take his load happily down your throat.

His body goes limp as he relaxes back on the couch. You look up at him, cheeks stained with tears and his cum and fuck it’s so sexy. His dick grows hard again when you smile in delight and open your mouth wide, tongue hanging out to show him that you swallowed every last drop of him.

It drives him wild and he’s no longer trying to hold back. His body moves on it’s own, grabbing you and slinging you over his shoulder as you squeal in shock and what he hopes is excitement. He stomps to your room and throws you on the bed, the fairy lights you’ve hung on the ceiling rattling and providing the perfect amount of light.

“Katsuki…” you breathe watching him with wide eyes. You don’t have to say it, he knows what you want and now he’s hell bent on giving it to you.

He stares down at you, cock twitching against his leg, “Take off those fucking clothes,” he says in husky voice.

He watches you pull the shirt over your head, your tits exposed to him. “Heh no bra?” He quips, licking his lips.

“Easier without one,” you retort, wiggling your brows. You shimmy out of the tight shorts and lay bare before him. Everything about you is delectable and he stares at your pussy like it’s the first time he’s seen it all over again.

You're dripping and glistening under the soft lights. Your hands cup your breast and you pinch your nipples while watching him. “Like what you see?” You giggle again and he shakes his head.

“What happened to that ”embarrassed girl” act you were doing, huh?” He says crawling over your naked form. The heat from your cunt beckons to him as you spread your legs to welcome his presence between them.

“Had to match your cocky energy,” you squeak, placing a quick kiss on the tip of his nose. He can’t hide the blush that dusts his cheeks and you laugh when you see it and wrap your arms around his neck.

His heart races, the amorous joy on your face warming his cheeks and pumping blood between his legs. He lines the head of his cock up to your entrance, sliding it through your folds and readying himself with your slick.

He bites his lip, gazing into your now lidded eyes as you mewl beneath him, a pleading expression finding its way onto your face. It boosts his confidence and before he pushes into you he grunts, “I’m gonna ruin you princess.”

You gasp when the head of his cock pushes past your tight ring of muscle and he grinds his teeth and clenches the sheets between his fingers. You’re fluttering around him, breathing heavily and moaning. A string of curses escape your lips as he slowly pushes further into you. When he finally bottoms out you both cry out in ecstasy.

He’s done it. He’s finally inside you, and holy fuck you’re squeezing him so tight. Your back is arched up, you’re wailing about how good his cock feels and he hasn’t even started moving. This scene will forever stay in his mind. He looks down to see you stretched around him, sloppy and dribbling while your legs quiver.

“Fuck baby, you’re so tight,” he hisses.

You whimper as he adjusts onto his elbows and pulls your body closer to his. Then he pulls out slowly and rocks and grinds his hips back into you. He can feel his dick dragging against every spongy ridge in your pussy with every deep thrust.

Your hands are interlocked tightly around his neck, your eyes squeezed shut and biting so hard on your lip he can see the teeth imprints left on your lip when you drop your jaw and wail his name.

“Katsuki… Katsu… please… it’s so good… oh fuck…”

Your moans intensify with every drive of his hips and soon he’s slamming into you. He’s lost in how your pussy grips him, aching to feel more and more of you. He pushes your legs back, opens them wider as he pounds into you. Squelching wet sounds and slapping skin accompany your singing cries of pleasure.

“Come for me baby, come on my cock. You can do it,” he coaxes in your ear, sweet and passionate.

Katsuki’s feral growls and grunts of pleasure come to a head when you clamp around him, squealing and squirting on his cock. Your chest is heaving as you pull him close to your body, your limbs locking around him and holding him as you convulse and fall limp on the bed.

A few more pumps of his hips into your bruised cunt and he’s quickly pulling out to paint your belly with thick ropes of cum. He collapses on top of you, and pulls your face up to kiss you, lips moving lazily against yours as you both catch your breath.

He keeps kissing as your fingers dance around on his back, wet smacks up and down your jaw like he can’t get enough of you. Your eyes are closed as you hum in post orgasmic bliss. Katsuki can’t stop the words falling from his lips between kisses.

“Be..my..girl...be mine…all mine...please.”

He can feel your cheeks heat and lift as you smile and whisper. “Ok.”

His heart swells when he hears your response and he chuckles as he flops on his back and pulls you into his chest.

“Good. Now I know you’ll forgive me,” he says, looking at the ceiling and tracing lines on your back as you cuddle up to him.

“Forgive you for what?” You say, lifting your head from his chest to look into his eyes worriedly.

He sneers teasingly, “Putting your dildo out of a job before you ever got a chance to use it.”

--

Thank you so much for reading!

Innocence

Pairing: Chota x Reader

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 4.5k

Summary: There’s just something about an innocent and kind person that this world still hasn’t able to ruin. It’s like there’s this aura around them. The kind of aura that someone like you needs to surround themselves with.

Warnings: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mildly Dubious Consent, Hand Jobs, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Overstimulation, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Loss of Virginity, Dom/sub, Innocence Kink, dark!Reader, Light Angst

Notes: Anonymous asked: Chota x reader? 👉👈 (gonna pretend they didn’t die) then they saw the beach and the reader who is an executive on the beach got interested in him?

Okay so, this was a trip. Please be careful of the warnings, do not read if any of it upsets you. It’s not that bad tho, but still. Hope you enjoy! <3

You observe the newly arrived residents of the Beach with curious eyes.

They’re an odd group of friends, these ones. There are five of them, and they all look so different that you wonder how they even came to be. They’re obviously close if the few dynamics you’ve noticed between them are anything to go by, but still, a pretty intriguing group made of intriguing individuals.

You’re not even listening to Hatter as he gives his usual speech; you’re much more interested in them. Or him, to be exact. 

Keep reading

oh my god…

absolut. | midoriya izuku x uraraka ochako x reader x bakugo katsuki | bnha

warnings: 18+! college au, orgy, cucking (kinda), alcohol consumption, dubcon (bc of the alcohol), oral, vaginal sex, anal (and other butt stuff), cum eating, double penetration, fluff

word count: 7.3k

a/n: i have been working on this for a long time @ writers who write fast pls show me your ways so im stoked to share this piece of filth with you! hope you enjoy! big thanks to my wife @rat-suki for loving deku and @bakatenshii & @blahkugo for screaming about it with me on discord ♡︎

“Hey,” Ochako whispers, nudging you with an elbow. “Wanna hear a secret?”

You glance up at your lecturer, standing blandly up at the podium, waffling on about some quantitative study he participated in as a student, and sink down in your chair, leaning towards her. “Always,” you grin.

She mirrors you, shuffling closer, cheeks pink, lower lip taught between her teeth. “Deku and I are fuck buddies, ” she whispers in your ear, her crass wording and heady tone heating your face.

“What?” Is all you can whisper back, blinking owlishly at her.

“Yeah, for two months now.” She’s clearly thinking about him, eyes glassed over, dreamy grin on her face as she tucks some hair behind her ear. “Sometimes we meet between classes and do it in the third floor unisex bathroom.”

“Ocha—“ you almost gasp, glancing this way and that to make sure you haven’t garnered any unwanted attention. “Are you insane? If you get caught, you’re gonna be—“

“Shh, it’s okay, we’re really careful.” Her hand falls to your knee, slowly drags up to the hem of your jean shorts.

Your heart races.

You send her— your closest friend since attending University— a sideways glance, and she squeezes your flesh, sending a wave of unease and excitement up your spine.

She leans close then, strawberry glossed lips ghosting your ear. “Wanna join?”

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

You must be mad.

Insane.

Out of your mind.

Because why else would you be following Ochako to a hotel, overnight bag packed, assignments long forgotten on your laptop back at the dorm?

Her fingers— interlocked with your own— squeeze your hand, and she smiles brightly at you, silently calming the ricochet of your heart behind your rib cage as you walk through the foyer of the hotel, beelining it straight for the elevator.

“Floor 14,” she says to herself as you settle towards the back of the space, her fingertip illuminating the number bright red on the keypad. “You’re super nervous, huh?” She smiles, turning to face you.

“I mean… yes.” You glance away from her, eyes on your yellow vans. “Also, it’s not... weird for you? Aren’t you in love with him?”

She taps her chin, leans on the adjacent wall. “Yeah, but… we both have certain fantasies that can’t be fulfilled with just the two of us.”

Your heart thuds as the elevator dings, doors sliding open to an empty hallway, mirror on the wall, fake plants on the buffet below it. Ochako grabs your hand again, presses her lips to your cheek.

“You can just watch if you’re too nervous.” She whispers. “It’s just me and Deku.” Her words are comforting, and you find yourself following along with her as she checks her phone, scrolling through her exchange with him for the room number.

Each step down the hall intensifies your anxiety, the anticipation weighing on your lungs like the up, up, up of a roller coaster— what’s it gonna feel like when you’re falling?

“Here.” She beams, sliding her phone into her pocket and squeezing your hand again. “Ready?” She asks, auburn eyes shining in excitement.

Words fail you, but you smile tightly, give her a short nod, then she’s knocking on the door. Seconds later, it opens a little, Deku’s emerald eyes softening at the sight of Ochako, widening exponentially at the sight of you.

Like your arrival is a surprise, or something.

“I brought her,” Ochako smiles, pulling you close and wrapping her arms around you, smushing her cheek against your own affectionately.

“But,” comes Deku’s voice, his head turning to glance over his shoulder. He keeps the door closed, not making room for the two of you to enter. “I thought I was bringing the plus one?” His voice is hushed, a light blush dusting beneath his freckles.

It gets quiet then. Too quiet.

“I’ll go home—“ you start, pulling away from your friend, confused and embarrassed and completely out of place.

“What? No, stay!” Ochako pleads, holding you tightly, frown falling on Deku. “You said I could choose!” She says a little too loud, then in an instant, Deku’s flustered. “Yeah, but you said you didn’t trust anyone enough— Ah, just come in.” He opens the door then, and you see why he’s hesitant to show the two of you what’s on the other side of it.

Bakugo Katsuki, the quarterback with the 4.0 gpa, is leaning on the back of the sofa, crimson glare widening at the sight of you both entering the room.

“Bakugo?” Ochako gawks, pulling you in behind her so Deku can shut the door.

“He’s the one person I trust with my life.” Deku mumbles, sliding a hand around her waist, nuzzling his nose in the crook of her neck.

“You said pink cheeks,” Bakugo sneers, eyes fixed on you. “Didn’t say anything about the frightened rabbit.”

“I can’t believe— out of all of your friends— you’d bring Bakugo in on this—“ Ochako nudges away from Deku, eyes falling on you. “You okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, peachy.”

“Ah, I’m sorry, just— just gimme a sec.” She kisses your hand, then drops it, grabs Deku’s shirt, and leads him past Bakugo. “Let’s go talk on the balcony.”

The glass doors slide shut and the air in the room thickens. You stare at your feet— doing your best not to make eye contact with Bakugo— and focus on breathing steadily, trying to calm the thump of your heart.

“At least sit down.” The blonde says, making you jump a little.

He’s not overly fond of your reaction.

“Tch, come on, I’m in the same boat as you; think I wanna fuck a chick that looks at me the way she did? I thought she knew I was coming.” He pushes away from the couch and squats at the mini bar. You watch him, the way his shirt clings to the prominent muscles along his back, his broad shoulders. “Vodka?” He asks, not looking at you.

“Huh?” You reply slowly, earning an eye roll from the quarterback.

“Just take this, dumbass.” He says, holding up a little bottle for you, shaking it in the air. You drop your bag and hurry to take it— not wanting to irritate him further—then eye off the 1.7 ounce bottle.

Absolut Vodka.

“You should drink it,” he stands, cracks open a little honey-coloured bottle for himself. “If they’re voting someone off the island, it’s not gonna be you, and you look nervous as fuck.” He takes a mouthful and winces. “You sure you came here for a threesome?”

“You act like it’s a crime to be nervous.” You mumble, twisting the tiny silver lid until it snaps off, eyes meeting his in a nervous glance.

“Yeah but if you’re stuck between pink cheeks and shitty Deku, there’s not much to be scared of, is there?” He eyes you off, takes another sip from the bottle.

You mirror him, downing half of the little bottle, your pride helping you suppress the need to cough your guts up; your eyes water, and he smirks.

“You were at her Halloween party last year, the pink playboy bunny, right?” He says, eyes dropping to your thighs, then back up to your face.

You’re about to reply when the doors slide back open. “Alright, fine,” Ochako sighs, stopping in her tracks when she’s sees the two of you standing less than five feet apart, conversing. Large hands slide down her arms, and Deku rests his chin on her head, wrapping his arms around her middle.

Her face flushes.

“I, uh,” you speak up, taking a breath as you glance between the lovers, Bakugo’s eyes boring holes into the side of your head. “I’ll leave if I’m intruding. I’m super nervous and inexperienced, and I’d hate to like, uh, slow down your night with my fumbling, or something.”

Ochako gasps. “What? No—“

“Pussy trumps cock, no matter how experienced the user of the cock is.” Bakugo finishes his little bottle, screws the lid back on. “I’ll go.”

“Wait, Kacchan, no, stop. No ones going.” Deku laughs, pressing a kiss to Ochako’s hair, and stepping around her. “The more, the merrier, right?” He beams, winking at you as he passes, swinging open the door of the bar fridge.

“Yeah, I mean, if you’re comfortable, I feel like I can cross a lot off my bucket list with you both here.” Ochako smiles— mostly at you— as she unzips her jacket, shrugging it off and tossing it over the back of the couch. “Are you okay with that?”

You take a deep breath and down the rest of the bottle, but before you can say anything, it’s pinched from your hand, and replaced with another. “Go make yourself comfortable on the sofa.” Deku smiles warmly, hands pressing into you, ushering you towards your best friend.

“Take this off,” she giggles, tugging at your hoodie.

“What? It’s cold in here!” You object with nervous laughter, remembering the teeny tiny tank top you’ve got tucked into your shorts. Still, she manages to wrestle it from your head, her eyes falling to your cleavage, bulging a little at the sight.

“Why are you always wearing baggy clothes when you look like this?” She pushes you to the sofa, straddles you and presses her forehead to yours. “You can leave if you want, but I’d really like you to stay.” She whispers, breath hot on your ear. “What do you wanna do?”

Your eyes flicker over to the boys— both watching, though they’re pretending not to—before you’re looking back at Ochako, large eyes pleading with you to stay.

Which is what you’d psyched yourself up for, until you’d seen the extra.

Why the hell is Bakugo’s inclusion making you so damn nervous?

“I’ll watch for a bit and see,” you mumble, your whole body almost vibrating in embarrassment, the anxiety and anticipation from earlier curling up your spine, settling in your throat.

“Yay!” Ochako cheers, and seconds later she’s hoisted from you, giggling like crazy as Deku throws her onto the bed and crawls over her, ravishing her in kisses.

You watch as he pulls her shirt up, licking and kissing at her stomach, trailing down, down, down—

Embarrassed, you glance away, find Bakugo’s eyes are already on you. You look down to your knees, feel his eyes on you for a moment longer, before he looks back to the lovers on the bed.

Ochako’s clothes start hitting the floor, her moans of pleasure filling the space; you watch on in silence— thighs pressed together and lip between your teeth— suppressing the urge to rub yourself over your shorts or run away.

Deku’s got her legs over his shoulders, his mouth on her pussy, and she’s doing her best to muffle her moans— her fingers stuffed in her mouth. He’s eating her out like it’s the last meal he’s gonna have, and when he slips two fingers into her wet cunt, her hips buck off the bed, both hands fisting in the sheets as she cums all over her fuck-buddy’s face.

A tiny gasp escapes your lips and the anxiety you were feeling slowly peels away. Is it because sometime before her orgasm you downed the other bottle of Absolut? Or because you want that? You want to be pinned down and ravaged until you’re shaking and crying; you wanna finally understand what it feels like to be completely undone at the hands of someone else.

Deku sits up, tears off his shirt and wipes his face with it, looking over at Bakugo. “Told ya she squirts.” He grins boyishly, throwing the shirt at him. “You okay?” He asks, turning to you, his face flushed with excitement.

You nod shyly as he sits up on his knees, works his pants down his thick thighs, eyes still on you.

“Don’t look at her like that, dumbass.” Bakugo spits, tearing his shirt over his head and pushing his jeans down his legs. “She’s clearly a virgin; don’t go pressuring her to do something she’s not ready for.” The way his eyes narrow say he’s baiting you, that he wants you to bite back and dive into bed with them, but you’re not quite there yet, so you just look down at your lap, pretend you don’t notice.

“B-be nice, Bakugo.” Ochako’s practically winded from her orgasm, glaring at him as she perches up on her elbows. “She’s not a virgin, and she’d probably be on the bed with us already if you weren’t here.”

“Right, so you want me gone, huh?” He asks sarcastically, rubbing his length through his briefs.

Shit, you need another drink.

“You’re only needed for like two or three things, then you’re free to go.” She sasses, poking her tongue at him.

“Is one of those things my dick in your mouth while your boyfriend fucks your greedy little hole?” He asks, cocky grin spreading across his face.

Fuck.

You want him to fuck your greedy little hole.

You get up and brush past him to the mini bar, taking out another Absolut, and downing it right there. “Alright, I’m ready.” You hiss, pulling your tank top out of your jean shorts and tugging it over your head. “Where do you want me?”

“Jesus, are you sure you don’t want one more?” Bakugo chuckles, watching as you slide your shorts down your thighs, leaving your underwear on.

“Really?” Ochako asks, sitting up.

“I’ve always wanted two hot girls to suck me off at the same time.” Deku says, eyes firmly on you. “If you’re up for it?” He slides off the bed and pushes the rest of his clothes off, steps out of them, weeping cock slapping against his abdomen with a wet smack.

“It’ll probably be a little easier if you’re sitting on the bed, Izu.” Ochako smiles, eyes glancing over to you, then back to him. “I’ve always wanted to try it too, actually.”

Deku says something else to her then, but you’re distracted by the man standing next to you. The famous footy player, the brains and the brawn, all corded muscle and tanned skin, his eyes drinking you in, despite him coming here to rail Ochako.

“Looks like the virgin gets to join in first.” You poke your tongue at him, and Ochako chuckles.

“Yeah, virgin, okay.” She rolls her eyes, smiling brightly at Deku as he laughs with her.

“Compared to you! Meeting in the toilets for quickies.” You pout, crossing your arms.

“You told her?” Deku murmurs, ruffling her fringe from her face. He doesn’t seem mad, more… curious.

“What toilets?” Bakugo frowns, annoyed and left out.

“Ahh, well—“

“Third floor, they’re barely used.” Ochako follows her lover with her eyes as he sits against the bed head, then she crawls up to sit obediently between his spread legs. They look so natural together, eye each other so trustingly. Are they really just sex friends? “Wow, Izu, it’s so hard.” She breathes, dainty fingers wrapping the meaty girth of his cock, pumping it loosely.

“Come on, I won’t bite,” Deku holds a hand out for you to take, smiling gently. Your worries bubble away as you slowly breathe out and look into his darkened emerald eyes, knees hitting the bed as you lean forward to place your fingers in his hand.

With more strength than you thought he had, he pulls you close, clothed breasts hitting his freckled chest, thick, veiny, scarred arm wrapping around your waist, his free hand tilting your chin up so you look him in the eye.

“Stop staring at her, Izu,” Ochako whispers, her fingertips dragging gently across your tummy before she hugs you, her lips pressing to your cheek.

“Kiss her properly,” he urges you, eyes half-lidded, tongue snaking out to wet his sex-bruised lips.

Her mouth is like nothing you’ve ever felt on your own: soft, plump, sensual. The kiss is slow— a deliberate show of lips and spit— special, just for Deku. Surprisingly, you’re the first to slide your tongue into her mouth, hungry for more, begging her to reciprocate, to help soothe the need quickly bleeding into your belly.

“Shit, Kacchan, c’mere,” Deku urges, and the bed dips behind you. “Show him, too.” He says, pressing a kiss to Ochako’s cheek, running calloused fingers up your back. Your hands rest on her thighs, hers on your waist, and you barely register Deku unclasp your bra, before he’s tugging it gently down your arms.

Ochako moans then, hands sliding up to cup at your tits, the kiss deepening, her teeth scraping your lower lip as you gasp, her little fingers tweaking and rolling your nipples

“Fuck,” Bakugo rasps, your watery eyes gazing over at him. He rubs at his briefs, eyes glued to Ochako’s hands as they fondle you, a sense of power blooming within you at the look on his usually snarling face.

“Yeah, fuck,” Deku agrees, taking your chin in two fingers and pulling you towards him, pressing his lips to yours as he guides his girlfriend down to his dripping cock. His mouth is bitter with the taste of Ochako, but you suck his tongue when he loses it into your mouth regardless, desperate for more. He draws away from you, thumb pulling your lower lip down, baring your teeth to him. “Wanna use these pretty lips on my cock?” He asks, eyes on your mouth as he manipulates your flesh some more.

You just nod, gaze half-lidded, and his face breaks into a smile, large hand petting you as you slide down his toned body until you’re eye-to-eye with your best friend, eyes glued to her as she licks wet stripes up and down his thick cock.

It’s not the first cock you’ve sucked, but it’s definitely the girthiest; head an angry shade of purple, shaft littered with a light dusting of freckles, like the rest of him.

“Lick him with me,” Ochako whispers, linking fingers with you, before taking his head in her mouth. Your pussy clenches at the groan he sighs, and you waste no more time, tongue poking out to test the feel of his shaft as you wriggle back a bit more to settle on your tummy.

“That’s…” Bakugo hisses, voice tight, seemingly unable to find the words to describe what he’s seeing happen to his best friend and rival, right in front of his eyes.

You lower your head, drooling all over his sack as Ochako deep throats him, before taking a ball into your mouth and marvelling at the choking sound he makes as his hips involuntary buck at the sensation. She pops off his cock and you share a smile, then you’re both sucking his shaft, tongues grazing and saliva mingling as he breathes heavily.

“It’s… God, it’s too much,” He breathes, straining voice a hiss as he watches you both, fists grabbing desperately at the sheets either side of his hips.

Thick fingers dip into the elastic of your underwear at your lower back, and your attention is diverted for a moment as you watch Bakugo stare hungrily at your ass as he pulls your panties down your thighs. “Focus.” He clips, slapping your cheek with a firm hand, before massaging the globes in his palms, fingers digging into the flesh.

“Ochako,” Deku huffs, a hand going to her hair. “I’m gonna cum,” he almost whines, dark eyes pleading with her for something unknown to you.

“Okay, it’s okay,” she hushes, pressing a finger to your lips. “Suck.” She orders with a grin. You obey immediately, a little confused as you swirl your tongue around the pad of her finger, until it’s taken from your mouth and pressed to the puckering hole beneath his heavy sack and your panties are tugged the rest of the way down your legs.

“M-my balls,” he begs, spurring you to run your tongue along them, give them attention as Ochako wriggles her finger into his ass and seals her lips over his tip. He heaves another groaning sigh, eyes unable to stray away from the two of you, a rippling shudder tearing through him as you suck the other ball into your mouth.

Bakugo traces a finger up the lips of your sex, your back going rigid as you moan and press back against him, your mouth still full, nails digging into the flesh of Deku’s thighs. He says something you can’t comprehend, then Deku’s tensing, his balls contracting, Ochako squeezing her eyes shut as he blows his load down her throat.

Before you can do anything else, your tugged backwards by the hips, ass flush with Bakugo’s clothed cock as he ruts against you, teasing you with his length. You can’t help the butterflies that swirl in your stomach as you glance back at him— football superstar Bakugo Katsuki—his eyes blown wide with lust as he looks at you.

You.

“No way,” Ochako warns, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, glassy eyes on Bakugo. “It’s not your turn yet, extra.” She snips.

“You came, he came,” he grabs your arm and pulls your body up, your back flush with his chest. “It’s only fair that one of us is next.” Both of his hands play with your nipples, lips coming to your neck, teeth dragging across your pulse point, making you shudder.

“Yeah, her.” She says, eyes betraying her heated tone as she watches Bakugo’s fingers tweak at your nipples, your hands reaching behind you to grips at his briefs for some semblance of balance.

“That was amazing,” Deku smiles, chest flushed with heat, gleam in his eye. “What’s next?”

Your head is spinning, mind going numb as Bakugo sucks and licks at your skin, eyes screwing shut and head falling back onto his shoulder as his fingers trail down your front, inching closer and closer to your sweet spot, your heart thundering in your ears.

“Fuck me,” you hear Ochako say— probably to Deku, considering the tone of her voice— but you feel her dainty hands on your thighs, eyes snapping open to see her lips wrap around one of your nipples.

“Ocha—” you squeak, but she sends you a heated look, sucks and licks feverishly at your chest. Bakugo’s chest rumbles against your back in a growl, cock grinds between your cheeks, hands holding you by the hips, keeping you still, long fingers positively bruising.

“Lay her down,” Ochako says to him, taffy eyes glaring past you to look at him, before her focus softens on you. “I’m gonna lick your pussy while Izu fucks me. Is that okay?”

“Ah, yeah,” you nod, embarrassed even considering the events that have already unfolded. Ochako squeaks in delight and turns to relay the information to Deku, and you’re sinking down onto your ass, kicking your legs out as Bakugo does the same behind you; his broad chest a wall for you to lean against.

“Bout to get eaten out by your best friend,” he whispers in your ear, heated and cocky. “How’s that feel?”

Your face burns, “if I weren’t here, it woulda been you with Izuku’s balls in your mouth.” You do your best to snap back, but your voice is hoarse, hands resting on his as he runs them up your thighs and spreads your legs apart.

“Fat chance,” he snorts, chuckling as he rests his chin on your shoulder, eyes wandering down your exposed skin greedily.

“Kinda glad we messed up, huh baby?” Deku grins, kissing at Ochako’s neck before she can fall into position between your legs.

She replies something breathy, but you’re too caught up in Bakugo: his fingers on your thighs, thumbs grazing the sensitive skin at your hip dips, then inwards, dangerously close to the sensitive lips of your sex as Ochako watches intently.

Then her soft fingers are drawing up your legs, and your eyes shoot down to hers, your breath catching in your throat.

“You can back out,” she says gently, giving you one last chance to bolt. But Deku catches your eye, on his ass behind her, watching with baited breath as she crawls up to you, and you can feel Bakugo’s body ready and waiting behind you.

And it makes you feel powerful.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” You ask, tossing the proverbial ball into her court.

“To be honest? I’ve been waiting for this for a long time,” she bats her lashes up at you and your breath hitches, her petal lips kissing the inside of your knee as she closes in on you, as she slides up so close you can feel her cool breath on the heated skin by your folds.

“Fuck,” slips from Bakugo’s lips, his hands sliding up to slowly squeeze your breasts as Ochako’s fingers toy with your outer labia, her tongue peeking from between pink lips as she surveys your sex like it’s the most interesting thing she’s ever seen.

“You’ve got a pretty pussy,” she grins, licking her lips. You’re momentarily distracted when Deku starts pumping himself in his fist, eyes glued to the both of you, but seconds later that little tongue is licking a tentative stripe up your slit, and her manicured nails are digging into the meat of your thighs.

“Oh, my god…” you breathe, slamming your eyes shut, head falling back against Bakugo as you fight to keep your legs splayed. It tickles, she’s kitten licking you, lapping at your cunt as she explores it, curiosity out-weighting the need to get you off.

“Feel good?” Comes Bakugo’s rumbling voice. You open your eyes and glance sideways at him, annoyed that he knows you wanna beg for more, for harder, for faster. “Tell her what you need,” he urges.

“I-I’m gonna put it in,” Deku stammers, your attention flying back to him, to the angry blush on his face and chest, the way his hand sprawls Ochako’s lower back as he pumps himself with the other.

“I thought it’d taste weird,” she blinks up at you, “but you taste good—”

“Oh my god, Ochako, please—” you begin, mortified, only for her to press her open mouth against you and start tonguing at your entrance, your plea rising into a longing moan as pleasure rockets through your veins. Your eyes roll and you slam a hand to your mouth, only to have it torn away and pinned to your thigh by one of Bakugo’s, his other hand tilting your face towards him, his tongue snaking into your mouth.

Then Ochako’s moaning, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine as the sensation of two tongues inside you at the same time has you both tensing and melting simultaneously. Ochako’s nails grind into your skin as your toes flex, and you vaguely begin to hear Deku’s slow grunts, feel the rhythmic pressing of her face against your cunt as she’s fucked into you.

Your arms move to loop around Bakugo’s neck, but he’s inching away from you, taking your hands in his and laying you down as he slides off the bed, tugging you so your head is hanging off the edge a little. One of his hands leaves yours and he’s thumbing at your mouth, drawing saliva from your bottom lip and spreading it around, eyes half-lidded.

You know what he wants; you can see how hard he is, even upside down. His thumb slips into your mouth and you suck on it, tongue lathing lazily, your free hand reaching his briefs and palming him to the same rhythm as your tongue on his thumb. A taste of what’s to come.

“Yeah?” Ruby eyes stare down at you, and he takes his thumb back, poising to rid himself of his underwear.

“Mmm,” you mumble back, licking your lips, throwing your head back further and opening your jaw to him, giving him easier access to your throat.

“Fuck,” he breathes, hastily dropping his dacks, long, thick cock bobbing free, pumping it slowly with his strong fingers. “So fucking sexy,”

You just laugh in return, reaching for his hips as he closes in on you, as he rubs that smooth, spongey head of his cock across your smiling lips. Your tongue snakes out to taste him— salty, bitter, all man— and you purr, nails digging into his ass, as he slowly slides in.

Ochako’s tongue slips out of your cunt and she purses her lips around your clit, your whole body tensing just as his thick— shit, so thick— cock hits the back of your throat, a needy whine unable to escape your chest.

“G-god,” comes from Deku’s mouth, “put your… f-fingers inside her, baby,” he pants between breathy moans. “M-make her cum.”

“S-slower, Izu—“ she groans back, finally giving your pussy a break, head bobbing up before resting on your heated thigh. “‘m s-so close,”

“Ah, hold out, pink cheeks,” Bakugo grunts, thick fingers bracing himself under your jaw, his thumbs behind your ears. “You’re the one who said it was her turn; make true on that, huh?”

“You’re such a—“

Another squeal lodges in your throat when her face is pushed— hard— against your pussy, bitter laughter flowing from Bakugo’s lips, and a needy, drawn out whine, pulling from Deku’s.

“‘ts it, baby,” Deku grinds out, voice gravelly as she starts to work your cunt again, tongue thick and sloppy against your core. “G-god you look so sexy eating her out. R-right Kacchan?”

“Shut up, Deku, f-fuck—“ Bakugo hisses, going deep— too deep— his heavy balls slapping against your nose, your forehead; tears escape the corners of your eyes, travel down your forehead and get lost in your hairline.

Ochako breaks away from you again, a high-pitched whine sliding from her lips, “c-cumming!” And she’s collapsing against your leg again, her heaving breaths filling the room along with Bakugo’s grunts.

But then she’s moving—you can’t see shit— and she’s either recovered, or that’s Deku’s mouth tonguing your cunt, his thick fingers working their way into your sloppy little hole, wriggling around until you—

“Mmmph!” you tense up, and Bakugo eases up on the face-fucking, slides out of you and slaps his heavy cock against your cheek. “N-no, if you do th-that—“ you whine desperately, propping yourself up on your elbows and staring helplessly down at Deku, who’s fingers are moving inhumanly quick, green eyes staring up at you as his mouth finds your clit.

Bakugo swallows your sob with his lips, his hands smoothing hair from your face as he kneels next to you on the bed, probably trying to distract you from the magic Deku’s working between your legs.

“B-Bakugo, I’m—’m gonna—“ you reach for him, tears in your eyes as Deku kisses your skin; your stomach, your ribs, a nipple’s sucked into his mouth.

“Get back down there,” Bakugo grunts, pushing at his mop of green hair, but you’re wriggling out of the blonde’s grasp, thighs clamping around Deku’s wrist as your orgasm slams into you, back arching, heels of your hands pressing into your eyes as you moan and gasp, waves of ecstasy rolling through your bones.

“You fuckwit!” Bakugo hisses, white-knuckling the sheets, glare fixed on Deku.

“Aw, c’mon, Kaachan, she can go more than once,” Deku laughs from above you, taking your shaky wrists in his big hands. “You okay?” He asks, voice soft, soothing, calming.

“I,” you start, nodding, wiping tears from your face, “y-yeah,”

“Yeah? Move.” Bakugo growls, barreling into Deku, pushing him—laughing— off of you, so Bakugo can man-handle you, picking you up and walking backwards to the couch, sitting down and helping you straddle him.

“Izu, ‘m tired,” comes a groggy moan from Ochako; Deku soothes her with some shushing and soft mouth noises, but Bakugo doesn’t let you rest.

“Shitty fucking Deku,” he mumbles, fisting his cock in his hand, “you want a real orgasm?” He asks, pulling you out of your post-orgasmic haze, laughter bubbling up your throat.

“I’m pretty sure I just had one?” You lean towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you slide your body closer to his—breasts to chest—a smile growing on your face as you register the blush dusting his, his little pout. “I bet,” you kiss his cheek, his jaw, his neck, “that you wanna cum, hm?”

A guttural groan slides from his throat when you lean back and your smaller hand wraps around his; then you’re guiding the angry tip of his cock towards your sex, sliding it against your slippery folds as you raise your hips, tongue wetting your lips.

“Hurry up,” he huffs, jutting his hips up, far too impatient for his own good.

“Just be happy I’m letting you do me raw, footy jerk,” you snip, before the head of his cock catches against your hole and you begin to lower your hips, gasping and gnawing at your bottom lip as he slowly stretches you open.

You’re almost flush with his thighs when hands ghost over your ass and lips press to the back of your neck. Your head reels around to meet green eyes, before shooting to the bed and surveying your best friend’s sleeping form, her head on the pillow, blanket draped over her naked body.

“What are you doing?” You whisper as his hands wander, his lips quirking into a grin.

“She’s asleep, it’s fine,” he assures you, adding: “we’re not technically dating, so don’t worry.”

“Deku, if you fuck this up for me, I’m shoving your stupid fucking head down the toilet,” Bakugo growls, pulling you back against his chest, one hand fisting your hair, the other hovering protectively over your back as he thrusts the rest of his dick up into your cunt.

You yelp—feeling far too full— but Deku just laughs at his childhood friend’s inability to share, “I just want to play with her ass, Kacchan; ‘s that okay?”

“God, I— I don’t wanna hear your fucking voice,” he snaps, tugging your head back by your hair and crashing his lips to yours, swallowing your wanton moans and cries as he takes over the sliver of control you had being on top, and thrusts up into you.

It’s dizzying, intoxicating. Bakugo’s hands are rough and forceful, his cock still stretching you, the ridges and veins touching parts of you that have never been so stimulated, his tongue bullying yours in the best way. Then Deku reminds you he’s there, wet finger prodding at your asshole, rubbing around your rim gently, slowly— so very slowly— pressing the tip in, breaching the tight ring of muscle.

“So… damn tight,” he breathes, lips tickling your ear as Bakugo throws his head back against the sofa with a needy whine.

“I can,” he gasps, red eyes glaring past you to where Deku’s breathing on your neck. “I can feel your fucking finger,”

“Is it good?” He asks, wriggling what feels like another finger— slick with something slimier than spit— into your ass.

“Ahn… T-too much—“ you gasp, nails digging into Bakugo’s shoulders, clawing into his back as you struggle to get closer to him, trying to escape the intrusion behind you.

But Bakugo’s laughing, his hands groping and spreading your asscheeks, slowing the heavy snap of his hips as Deku writhes his fingers, before he adds a third.

“N-no…” you whine, Bakugo attacking your neck with warm, wet kisses and slow, deliberate bites that are surely gonna show for days after this. “Oh— oh my god, please...” You sob, both men halting their actions to soothe you with gentler kisses, softer, more tender.

“Can—“ Deku starts, takes a deep breath against the shell of your ear. “Can I fuck your ass?”

For some reason, you look to Bakugo for the green light, eyes wide, brows tented in a silent plea.

“Be fucking gentle,” the blonde hisses at his friend. “Don’t think I won’t punch you in your shitty fucking face.”

“Okay,” Deku breathes, beginning to thrust his fingers again, “alright…” he mumbles, stretching you out. “It’s okay, I’ll b-be gentle,” he whispers, voice going even lower as he mutters soft words against your spine, sending goose flesh across your skin. “Kacchan, I— I can feel your dick inside her,” he adds, voice wavering.

“Fuck,”

“B-Bakugo,” you almost sob— still warming his cock— overcome with the need to cum, your orgasm so close it hurts, Deku’s thick digits stuffing you full. “Y-you gotta fuck me… f-fast,” you plead, squirming in his hands, rocking your hips best you can with Deku’s fingers in your ass. “Wanna cum…”

“I think she’s ready,” Deku groans, slipping his fingers out, before sliding them back in, giving the three digits a twist. “Can you feel that, Kacchan?”

You gasp and cling to Bakugo as he takes his fingers out slowly and presses the plane of his chest to your back, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he breathes, kissing your shoulder, the back of your neck.

“Anal?”

“No,” he laughs at Bakugo’s question. “Chako and I do it all the ti—“

“Yeah, I don’t care?” The blonde cuts him off gruffly.

Deku chuckles, “you asked, though?”

“C-can— god, please do something!” You whine, frustration taking over, nails digging into Bakugo’s traps as you rock your hips, your mound grinding against his pubes.

“Sorry sweetheart,” Bakugo grunts, lifting your hips and slamming you back down, eliciting a yelp from your throat as his cockhead slams against your cervix. “Got a little distracted by this... asshat.”

“I’m gonna,” Deku breathes, rubbery cock sliding against your asshole. “Put it in..?” He asks, unsure.

“You want it?” Bakugo asks, lifting you back up, holding you in suspense.

“Huh? I,” you glance back at Deku, see him crouching behind you, thick cock poised to slide into you, his wide eyes begging you to say yes.

“You gotta tell him you want it,” Bakugo breathes, lips against your cheek.

Your whole body is ablaze and you’re embarrassed, turned on, and still a little tipsy. It’s a situation you never thought you’d be in, but there’s a gnawing in the back of your brain that’s begging you to tell him—

“Fuck me, Midoriya,” you whisper, before turning back to Bakugo and pressing your mouth to his, your hands grasping the sides of his face before pulling away, “d-distract me?”

But Deku’s already pushing, the thick cock you were servicing earlier sliding slowly into your empty hole, Bakugo hissing as he feels him entering, pressing against his cock, pressing it more snugly against your g-spot.

“Oh my god,” you’re whining breathlessly, clutching onto Bakugo for dear life, unsure if you really like the intrusion, if the numb, pain-like sensation is really gonna get you off.

“Shit, it’s— it’s too fucking tight,”

“Y-yeah, I don’t know if I’ll be able to move, Kacchan,”

“Just—“ Bakugo takes a hand off your ass, runs it up your side and gently caresses your breast. “If you keep tensing up, it’s gonna hurt all of us,” he knocks his forehead against yours, meets your eyes. “Got it?”

“It’s… weir— Ah!” You yelp, Deku forcing himself in all at once, knocking you into Bakugo, pressing you into him, Deku’s front flush with your back.

“Ah, shit,” Bakugo hisses, your arms wrapping around his neck. “I’ll pull out… then when I push back in,”

“I’ll pull out; got it.” Deku finishes.

And even though you heard the exchange, feeling it is a completely different story.

“Ahn—n-no, I— I can’t, I can’t, this is too much, I’m gonna die!” You garble as they move in tandem, your already heated body starting to grow slick with sweat— both yours and theirs.

But you don’t really want them to stop because you’ve never felt so full in your life, never felt so good in your life. You never thought you’d hear Bakugo Katsuki grunting in your ear as he helps keep you up on your knees, his teeth and tongue grazing your jawline, as he fucks your pussy; never thought you’d have Midoriya Izuku gripping your hips so hard, whiny mouth sucking marks into your skin as his cock stretches your ass.

It’s too much. It’s too much, but Bakugo still finds the need to snake his hand down between your bodies, still feels he’s gotta play your clit like a fine-tuned instrument.

Tears and drool slip down your face, then you’re howling as pure, white-hot bliss has your whole body tensing, both men groaning hoarsely as you contract around them, fingers digging into your skin as their thrusts grow harder, sloppier, faster, then stop completely.

Your body is boneless, your fucked-out form collapsing against Bakugo with a contented sigh as Deku falls back onto his ass, the room suddenly silent.

“Want a water, Kacchan?” Deku asks moments later, only to be met with an affirmative grunt.

Then you feel something dribble out of you, slide down your thigh, “who,” you frown, clearing your scratchy throat, wobbly arms pushing you off of Bakugo. “Who came inside me?”

Bakugo does his best at trying to conceal a grin, large hands resting on your hips lifting you, his softening cock slipping out of your pussy, followed by another dribble. “Uh, we both did.” He says, sending you a half-sorry look.

“Ugh,” you spit, collapsing against him again. “That’s so gross.”

“‘ts okay,” Deku says, closer, resting a bottle of water on your head, which Bakugo quickly snatches away. “I’ve got this.”

Your core clenches when you feel Deku’s tongue slide up your inner thigh and slurp up the cum, Bakugo’s knees spreading further apart to accommodate his friend’s size. He’s moaning, and you’re watching him over your shoulder, face furiously hot as he loses himself in your creampie, tongue scooping up as much as he can, swallowing it with a moan.

“M-Midoriya, I can shower,” you mumble, ridiculously embarrassed, as Bakugo’s hands spread you apart.

“You like eating cum, huh, Deku?” The blonde grins, watching his friend with morbid curiosity.

Green eyes blink up at the two of you, “ah, I just wanted to try it.” He shrugs, a finger sliding back into your ass, sending you rigid, before he adds another and starts to scoop the cum out, licking his fingers and circling back to your cunt, sucking and licking Bakugo’s seed up as well.

“Oh..” you moan, embarrassed by how slow and deliberate he is, how gentle even his fingers are.

But before Deku can finish what he started, Bakugo stands, lifting you with him, Deku’s fingers slipping out of you. “Let’s do this in the shower, we’re all sweaty and I’m feeling left out.”

“But I’m tired,” you whine, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, weightless in his thick, corded arms.

“I’m… uh,” Deku chuckles, smiles nervously at you when you meet his gaze. “I’m hard again.”

You gape, bleary-eyed, up at Bakugo, and he grins, “if this loser’s goin again, so am I.”

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

For some reason, doing the walk of shame with Bakugo is worse than doing it alone. Everytime you look at him, you’re reminded of how you acted, what you did, how you did it.

The pair of you bolted from the room when Ochako woke up and found you all sitting on the balcony playing Never-Have-I-Ever, a very drunk Deku announcing his undying love for her— but can he fuck you again?

She said she didn’t mind.

So now, you’re walking through the city with a guy you thought wouldn't be caught dead talking to you, nervous energy pouring out of you in waves as you’re reminded of what happened in the room. As you overthink the million different ways you can gracefully accept him turning you down.

“Do you, uh,” he clears his throat, looks down at his phone screen. “Do you like pancakes?”

You blink at him.

“I—I mean, shit, uh, do you—“ a heavy sigh, “it’s 2am, are you hungry?” He manages to say, unable to look you in the eye.

“Uh, yeah,” you nod, your eyes darting between his pouty face and your shoes. “I could eat.”

He smiles, but it’s fleeting, like he doesn’t want you to know he’s actually glad you’re taking him up on his offer. “Cool,” he nods slowly, stepping closer to you, gaze dropping from your eyes to your lips, then back to his shoes. “Uh, I know a place.”

You can’t control the way your face heats, or the grin that grows on your lips when you notice the faint dusting of pink across his features. “Cool,” you say back, thinking how ridiculously backwards this seems.

“Cool,” he repeats, nodding, shoving his hands in his pockets and leading the way.

til death do us part - aizawa shouta

this is for my dearest @httptamaki and her fake dating collab! kar, congratulations on 1K, babe! to many more

warnings: graphic descriptions of injury, descriptions of death/dying, major character death, whump, hurt/"comfort," all angst - no plot and no fluff

Her supports were screaming at her, warning her that her pulse to be dangerously higher than her healthy maximum: as if she could be surprised about it. Her hair was matting to her forehead, her pupils filling up her irises to the near edge, and all of these indicating that the wound, a gash across her middle, was much deeper than she initially thought.

What was she meant to do?

Everyone has a reason for why they behave, hero work happened to be hers.

The only problem was, she was almost too determined, too prideful to stall and wait, even if she’d lose. The very good advice she had given to a few underlings was one she very seldom followed: sometimes the only thing to do is wait.

Other heroes could stand bystander at a burning building, but how could she sleep at night if all she ever did was wait, leaving the saving to those with flashier quirks?

She had severely underestimated that guy’s strength, and severely sustained damage in return. The wound to her honor was fatal in itself: some mediocre moron of a villain had taken her out. If you ever encounter an enemy with a foiling quirk, wait for support. If only that luxury existed in reality. Yet at the end of the day, the surrounding communities still stood, safe and sound, so her job was done, at least for now, and so was the utmost duty of a hero, all at the cost of health and sanity.

Nevertheless, she had tapped out after other heroes came to her aid; they had encouraged it with how bent out of shape she was. In addition to the wound, she’d surely broken her hand, if not half the bones in her wrist. Leave it to her to let her guard down in the name of justice. She’d never hear the end of it at an inevitable summons to the Commission.

She wandered the street for just a moment, letting the pain catch up to her as she replayed the events of the last hours. Shame, regret, and disappointment flushed the pain from her mind; the advice of her mentors, the fear that she had let them down, and the guilt of it all, numbing all feelings for just a second.

Lean into the opponent. Never turn your back on your enemy. Breathe on defense. It all makes sense when she was in school. She remembered thinking: Obviously I would never not do those things. She lost it back there, using up all of her stamina at the cost of her well being to deliver maximum damage, and all she could keep telling herself to cope was that sometimes, even heroes lose it.

The stinging in her gut was pulsing through the rest of her body. Instinct was telling her to find help, to call someone to get her, yet another force was pulling her around the bend, down an avenue into a semi-familiar neighborhood. Although she couldn’t mentally register why, or how, or even what she was doing; she was seeking someone out specifically, someone who would scold her surely, but ultimately, it was their presence she craved most in her dire hour.

He definitely lived somewhere around here. . . 5-2-1, 5-2-2, 5-2-3. . .

Mr. Aizawa Shouta

5-2-4. . .

Rapping frantically at first, she braced herself against the door frame and laid a few more forceful knocks before falling forward when he finally answered.

“About damn time,” she hissed before letting out a long groan and taking advantage of the fact that he’d caught her to bunch her costume up against the gash.

“Tell me I’m not forgetting something,” he grunted. “You’re heavy, better not be our anniversary. . . If I’d known I wouldn’t have ordered takeout…”

She didn’t need to look at him to see his expression: his brows knitted tightly together as he sighed out of the corner of his mouth, the muscles in his face flexing and making the scar under his right eye twitch with emotion. The small chuckle hurt her chest, a tight squeeze around her lungs following the puff of air.

She couldn’t stop herself from grabbing onto his shirt with all the strength left in her other hand, his warmth soothing the aches in her muscles and his scent calming her just enough to finally close her eyes, but not before she stole just one more look at him.

When she’d gotten her hero license, she would’ve done anything to make it onto the billboard charts, hence signing her name on the dotted line next to the seasoned hero like Eraserhead.

The details of the arrangement were now all fuzzy. At first, it was something about publicity, coupled with the fact that their quirks worked perfectly together: close combat and stealth. They were dubbed “happy couple heroes.” Now, it seemed he was all too keen on making what a publicity charade a nonfiction chapter in the book of life.

It was his perseverance she admired, if anything, and as if she’d actually admit it to him! No matter what she did, who she went out with, or how many times she did extra patrols by herself, he put up with her. Never complained (to her face), was always on time for outings, took the lead on patrol, supported her on missions as best he could, and then some.

She hated it.

Completely despised the fact that they had to wear matching costumes, and suffered through every press conference. Aizawa would do all the talking anyway, he played the role so perfectly, and that pissed her off too, but she was more puzzled than anything.

Worst of all were the intricate details.

The fact that even when they were patrolling they had to be together. She’d had to relocate, which was way over the line. Yet once again, he never seemed to mind any of it, not the chaste kisses for cameras nor a hovering hand at her waist. Although he never said anything on patrols anyway, spare a well-times dry remark to a villain’s hubris or to her own. Maybe all of that was because he never had to pull any of the weight; in fact, none of his tactics even changed, he technically did less work as a support hero, she took all the damage. At the end of the day, only Aizawa’s ranking rose to her chagrin.

As an established pro, he wasn’t even stuck the way she was. According to her publicity team, all she was to Aizawa was arm candy, a pretty young face to soften his image, make him more appealing to young women, and get him just a little higher on the radar. To the general public, she was barely on the radar. Until her team up with Eraserhead, the biggest villain she ever brought in was a convenience store thief, the rest being reckless drivers or vengeful neighbors.

She owed her 28th spot, her pay raise, her street credit, all of it to his agency, to him. Period. And so worst of all, without him, she didn’t even exist.

She went to school to become a hero, not a housewife. It was just all so dehumanizing, and he just went with it, as if it didn’t matter, as if he didn’t care.

Just how could he enjoy an arrangement like theirs? Being forced to act a certain way, a puppet of the public, and feel things you didn’t, like and for what? The pay? The duty?

She never counted all the nights she lay awake in bed, assuming they would sum to infinity, imagining what he just had to be imagining: hanging up her cape beside his scarf, brewing one last cup of coffee before they went to the same bed, waking up and doing it all over again!

“You’re lucky I love you,” she managed as he made his way to the kitchen.

He knew there was no further meaning behind the words, of course there wasn’t. Not to mention the bitter edge to her sentiment; her tone definitely indicated that the words were empty.

Ever since she had breezed into his office, curtly introducing herself by her real name, demanding he do the same and, and proclaiming that all she wanted was a top 25 spot, she occupied his every thought. He knew she’d tear the contract to shreds once she’d met her goals, and still he not once tried to stop himself from falling for her, in fact, he’d enabled it.

He started with courteous reminders to file her paperwork, neatly folded notes tucked into the edge of her computer screen signed with: Unprofessionally, Aizawa-san. Then he’d given her some contacts: good support companies and trustworthy agents. He would walk her to the station after work, never saying too much, and often he’d praise the small changes she’d made to their costumes to give them each their own look while still being complementary. On the tougher days, when neither of them could make it in time, he would take her home himself and stay just a few more minutes with her, hovering in the foyer of her apartment to make sure she’d be alright, and then he’d wait on her terrace until he saw she was sound asleep before returning home.

On patrols, he let her take the lead, her stubbornness taking the front and instincts driving her onwards, while he kept a clear head and a sharp eye as he brought up the rear. Things went the same during an altercation too, he did his part so she could do hers. He gave her all the credit, all the commissions, it was the least he could do. He thought the arrangement worked well, but he could sense how much she hated their situation, and in turn, how much she absolutely loathed him.

As Aizawa retrieved his first aid kit, he glanced back at the heroine he’d set atop the kitchen counter: resilient, stubborn, and beautiful like no other he’d worked with before, even as she lay dying on his kitchen counter. From the looks of her, even Recovery Girl would have met her match. He could feel anguish creeping in, his heart breaking more and more as seconds passed on while he realized his worst fears would come true in mere moments. He couldn’t stop his mind from wandering even if he tried, and even if he wanted to, it would be no use. He unwound his scarf from his neck, huffing through his nose and telling her that nothing else would be a suitable tourniquet.

All she heard was screeching ringing in her ears accompanied by her own blood whooshing as her head pounded. She let her head drop to nod, and found herself caught in his binding cloth as he wrapped tightly around her middle over the gash.

“I know you probably can’t speak right now, best not to try.” His voice was a low hum, somewhere between a sound and a song. “Please. Do try to keep your eyes open. Keep your eyes open and I’ll take care of everything else.”

I’ll take care of everything else.

I’ll take care of everything else.

I’ll take care of everything else.

“You always take care of me, Shou,” she had wanted to say. She had wanted to thank him too, ask him why he cared so much knowing that she didn’t, but as he predicted, the sounds never formed. Only a strangled cry left her lips as he popped a few of her fingers back into place.

“I can’t fix the break, but hopefully now that those are in place you feel a bit better. . .”

To him, it would never matter whether or not she felt the same, he was just happy to help; taking care of her gave him something to do outside of work besides sleep. It felt good, to care about something, someone, as if his life finally had a purpose.

Aizawa nearly drew blood from his lip when he heard her whine as he placed his hands against her belly.

“Still with me?”

“Shou.”

He nodded, shaking his hair out of the way before warning her he was about to start stitching.

He loved her so much he hated her. He hated how stubborn she was, how she insisted on doing so much, how she just had to go out by herself and get hurt like this! He was hurt now just as much, even more! So why couldn’t she see that? Why couldn’t she just let him take care of her? Why couldn’t she just let him love her? He knew that if she did, he would be so good for her: the best of husbands, the best of men, her everything, her hero.

If he was a better man, someone chivalrous with honest morals who deserved a woman like her, he would have patched her up, let her rest and continued to suffer in silence and so on for the rest of his life.

Aizawa Shouta was no such man, and so, in all of his laziness and self-righteousness, he sacrificed his ego and pride as the tears finally flowed forth onto his handiwork, and he sobbed:

“I love you!”

A loud gasp moved through her entirety, and her muscles, up to her eyes, regained their higher functioning. Those beautiful, stern eyes opened wide in what seemed to be a pleasant realization. He watched an understanding wash across her features and peace blanket her being. Her breathing was steady for a moment, the faintest hint of a smile twitching on her chapped lips. Her small hands weakly tugged at the shirt on his back, and he could only cry harder, nodding, insisting she rest but she shook her head.

“I know.”

“Shhh, shhh, shhh. That’s enough for now,” he scolded with a small laugh.

She nodded, closing her eyes once more, and taking in one last deep breath to be let out in a peaceful sigh with a smile of her own.

He clenched his teeth. Everything hurt. He felt a terrible pang inside of him, what surely must have been his heart bursting when he hopelessly told her how he felt.

The air hung heavy around them. He wallowed in the silence, his chest heaving as if to compensate for her shallow, gargled breaths that broke into the room no more than five times a minute. Once more, with more passion than he’d ever expressed in his life, he told her:

“I love you!”

At the second proclamation, there was no response. He let out a breath, and then it hit him. He said her name. Once. Nothing. Twice. The same. He could hear his heart racing in his ears when he shook her. She was gone and his hatred returned.

He was careful to set her down on the kitchen floor, stretching quickly before assuming the position above her and beginning a futile attempt at resuscitation, chanting the confession til it became his only thought, and only then did he look at her.

Her head had fallen to the side. Her skin was coated in a sheet of sweat. He moved up her body, lifting her from under her arms closer to him, but even then her head stayed lolling from side to side as her eyelids only fluttered in response to the cries of her name.

“I hate you!” he told her corpse. “If you do this, I hate you!”

He felt rage envelop his heart, felt it course through his arteries, his now boiling hot blood fueling his muscles start again, this time to push harder, harder than he’d ever fought, even harder when he felt her sternum snap, his eyes glowing red and a tornado of black swirling around him. It didn’t matter if his vision was obstructed, there was no enemy in sight, and even he knew he couldn’t nullify Death.

He hated her. He hated how she made him feel, how he’d given her everything in so few words yet nothing at all in reality, hated how he never got to show her all he wanted: how he never would. He hated her so much. He hated knowing he could never hate her, not even if she died on him, and that was the very last thing that crossed her mind when she did.

That and the hope that she hadn’t disappointed him.

i. KIRISHIMA EIJIRO RECC LIST

credit to the owner ( lmk if you know who made it )

kiri’s list is growing so much ( and will continue too ) as he is indeed best boi — if you did not know, u know now — and i thought it was time he got his own list!

— the fics are separated by one-shot’s, multi-chaptered ( ones that have short and/ of a few chapters or one-shot’s in the same universe ), and series.

— most of these are fluff, but please read the warnings that are added by the author. i don’t want anyone to feel uncomfy or triggered

— if you have any kirishima ( or other mha/ bnha, hq, jjk, blue exorsist ) reccs let me know, we can share fics together!

ONE-SHOT

▸ the manliest man | @burnedbyshoto

▸ i do adore | @oikawasass

▸ more than friends | @katsushimaa

▸ crazy | katsushimaa

▸ summer love | @cafedanslanuit

▸ never a bad time | @kageyeaman

▸ in the kitchen | @moxie-elle

▸ soft mornings | @ultimate-astridwriting

▸ promise | @hazel1618

▸ ring pop | @kirishimaswife2819

▸ jealous | @kittykei

▸ are you jealous? | @bakublossom

▸ crush culture | bakublossom

▸ write me a cliche | @kaistarus

▸ disconnected | burnedbyshoto

▸ the pizza delivery guy | @myherowritings

▸ never a bad time | kageyeaman

▸ just a moment | @bnhaworld

▸ workout whispers | @technicallyflamey

▸ ten times happier | @justanotherperson

▸ heartless | @bnhaficswriter

▸ an unexpected matchmaker | @arigatouiris

▸ i’m not like her | @aphroditeparadisesstuff

▸ all the time you need | @akaa-keijis

▸ asexual | @expresstheobsession

MULTI-PARTER

▸ to love and to love again | @mulier-indomita

SERIE

▸ kiripima | @dolliedarlin

▸ please, let me take you | @nyxdelanuit

OTHER RECOMMENDATIONS

i. MHA/ BNHA | STUDENT RECC LIST

ii. MHA/ BNHA | PRO’S & VILLAINS RECC LIST

iii. RECC LIST NAVIGATION

iv. HAIKYUU RECC LIST

v. JUJUTSU KAISEN RECC LIST

vi. ATTACK ON TITAN RECC LIST

vii. MATURE RECC LIST