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fanfic-me-up · 4 years

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Tiramisu for Two || Bakugou Katsuki

Synopsis: It’s your five year anniversary and you both agreed: no gifts and no surprises. But when has Bakugou Katsuki ever played by the rules?

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: M/E+, 18+, smut, food kink, finger sucking

A/N: This is for @bnhabookclub bingo event! Bingo Slot: Finger Sucking

Thank you @unbreakableeiji and @royal-after-dark for beta reading!

Tagging: @keigod

“I’m home!”

You slip your shoes and coat off, getting comfortable after a long day’s work. It’s your five year anniversary with Katsuki and you both agreed: no gifts and no surprises. Honestly, you’re perfectly okay with that because you’ve been stressing at work since getting promoted and adding the pressure of anniversary planning to your endless list of things to do would only make you in more desperate need of a massage.

You expect Katsuki to be cooking dinner like he usually does on his early days, but you find the kitchen empty and no sign of your boyfriend anywhere else in the apartment. You know he’s home because you saw his car.

“Baby?” You call out.

You jump when your vision goes black, a satin blindfold wrapped around your head and tied in the back.

“I thought we said no surprises?” You pout as a hand guides you to the… backyard? You slightly stumble into something and a deep chuckle vibrates against your back. A husky voice whispers in your ear.

“I’ve got you.”

A sense of relief and the beginnings of a heat flood through you at once. Relief because you can finally confirm that yes, it is your boyfriend, and not some serial killer leading you to your doom. And heat because… well, you don’t need to explain that one.

You’re met with a calm breeze brushing your skin and you know you’ve made it outside. Hands untie the knot and the blindfold falls. You gasp as you take in the beautifully decorated garden before you - from the candles to the mouthwatering food to the cozy set up on the grass with sparkling champagne in the middle.

“Happy anniversary, princess.”

You turn around to see Katsuki giving you that soft smile only reserved for you. He caresses your cheek with his thumb, and you close your eyes, getting lost in the feeling of such a simple touch. He leans down, planting a tender kiss on your lips. It’s the first time he’s touched you since this morning so you allow yourself to melt into the kiss.

But if he thinks he’s getting away with breaking the rules, he’s got another thing coming.

You pull away from his hold to give him a pointed look.

“We said no gifts and no surprises.” You cross your arms so you can let him know that you’re very “serious.”

Katsuki leans back with his hands in his pockets to give you a pointed look.

“Babe, how long have we known each other?”

“Eight years?” You have no idea where he’s going with this.

“And in those eight years, when have I ever honestly played by the rules?”

He’s got a point, and he knows it judging by the smirk. Cocky bastard. You roll your eyes.

“Fine. But it’s gonna take a lot more than this to woo me,” you say just to bring his ego down a notch, even though this is seriously one of the sweetest things ever.

His fingers ghost over the small of your back. You shiver at the breath tickling the shell of your ear.

“Wait till you see what I got for dessert.”

A tray filled with an array of delicious desserts from chocolate-covered strawberries to pints of your favorite flavored ice cream is brought out as your boyfriend places it on the blanket. You involuntarily lick your lips in anticipation for the sweetness about to be bestowed upon your lips. You immediately go for one for the strawberries, but not before he grabs your hand.

“Let me.” He takes one of the strawberries in his own hand, and places it at the tip of your lips. You flush as you open your mouth to take a bite, the juice running down the back of your throat. Katsuki remains eye contact with you, and you realize that it’s not enough, so you begin to lick the remaining juices that slide down his fingers. Your tongue slides down wherever you can reach, coating his thick fingers with your spit. His crimson eyes darken at the action, taking in every trace of movement, as you foreshadow what’s to come.

“Damn, baby girl, you’re really beggin’ for a taste, aren’t ya?”

Heat swirls inside the pit of your stomach, and you crave the delicious ending that’s to come. You bite your lip in anticipation as Katsuki dips his finger in the ice cream that’s begging to be licked off. He brings it to your lips and you open your mouth, like the good girl you are, and lick every bit of it.

Whoever said vanilla was a boring flavor can suck it as you moan at the taste. Katsuki is enjoying the show you put on because he makes sure to deepen his finger to hit the back of your throat. You choke at the sensation, but you take it in earnest, tears already pricking at the corner of your eyes, as he continues to fuck the back of your throat with his hand.

It’s over too soon as his fingers retreat, a coat of spit connecting his finger to your wanton lips. You’re drawn like a magnet, leaning in, but he pulls away and takes the can of whipped cream in his hand and coats his finger with that instead. You can’t help the way your tongue swipes over your lips, entranced by the way the puff of whipped cream lands perfectly on top of his index finger.

He probes your mouth, getting your lower lip messy with whipped cream, “Be a good girl and open up, yeah… just like that,” he says as you obediently open your mouth.

You make sure to indulge your boyfriend, to immerse him in the fantasy, because it’s what he deserves. He planned this amazing event for your anniversary and you feel indebted, wanting to do whatever you can to repay him.

You close your eyes, completely immersed in the feeling of Katsukis’ fingers feeling their way into your mouth. You explore every inch, knowing the danger these hands possess, yet the heat between your thighs flares at the idea of sparks crackling in the palms of his hands.

A cute little flush dots your cheeks as you look up at your boyfriend, swirling your tongue along the ridge of his knuckle. Katsuki groans at the sight of your puckered lips, spit dribbling down the side of your mouth, and your eyes glazed over like he’s already fucked you.

But the night’s just begun.

You can’t help but moan as Katsuki rips off his leather jacket, throwing you down on the ground.

“What’d ya wanna try next, baby girl?”

All you can do is moan at the question. He grunts at the lack of response, pulling his fingers out of your mouth, and you groan at the loss.

“I asked you a question,” he snarls, a dangerous glint creeping onto his face that you never want to be on the end of. You obediently answer his question.

“Tira… tiramisu. I wanna try the tiramisu, please…” you whimper.

“Good girl,” he praises, dipping two of his slick fingers coated with your spit into the tiramisu that’s sitting prettily on the plate.

The combination of cream and cocoa powder engulfs your taste buds and you take everything he has to offer, lapping every dip and ridge between his fingers with vigor. You whine when he pulls his fingers out with a pop. He reaches for the can of whipped cream and you’re suddenly hit with the cool sensation of fluff on the crook of your neck. A hot, thick tongue drags up your neck, lapping every inch of whipped cream. You moan when Katsuki sucks at your neck, knowing full well you’re going to wake up with his mark tomorrow morning. A similar slick coats your thighs, and you clench them together in hopes that it will quench the thirst begging to be satiated.

Katsuki stops his ministrations on your neck to glance down at your thighs. He sends you a devilish smirk and no matter how many times you’ve fucked, you always feel a sense of fluttering excitement as if it were your first.

“Someone’s likin’ this a little too much…” he grinds against the inside of your thigh and you can’t help the desperate moan that escapes your whipped-cream covered lips. He makes it a point to spit directly onto your closed mouth before swiping his tongue to clean up the mess he made.

Your lips are soaked in his spit by the time he’s finished and the way he continues to grind against your cloth-covered clit makes you buck up to meet his hips.

He shoves his fingers into your mouth to silence your moans. You’re grateful, because the neighbors could easily pop their heads and witness the debauchery taking place.

Your thighs are now drenched in your slick as Katsuki continues to fuck your thighs, but before you or him can finish- he wretches your thighs apart and you whine at the sudden lack of friction.

He chuckles darkly, “Oh princess…”, forcing the tip of his thumb into your mouth, “it’s adorable how you think it’s gonna be that fuckin’ easy…”

Your heart stutters, having no idea what your boyfriend has planned, but you don’t have time to think about it as he wretches your jaw open- his other hand coming up to thumb your already hardened nipple. You moan as he rubs and pinches your areola, but it’s muffled as he shoves two fingers into your mouth. You close your eyes, completely in love with the saccharine taste of honeycomb dripping off Katsuki’s fingers. He pulls them out much too soon for your liking and you make this known as you whine, making grabby hands for his thick fingers. He chuckles with no remorse at your desperation.

“I got somethin’ special planned inside.”

You let him lead you to the bedroom, completely forgetting about the rules of no gifts and no surprises.

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isitgintimeyet · 4 years

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Just A Friend

AO3

Another Sunday, another chapter. Hope it’s a good weekend for you all, despite these uncertain times. I always intended this story to be a bit of fluffy light relief from the real world. Thanks for all the support for it.

There will probably be another 3 chapters after this, depending on how the characters behave. I cant seem to make them do what I want sometimes!

Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks for the beta

Chapter 11: From Marriage to Mackenzie

It’s 1pm and I’m in a hotel room, still in a bathrobe, sipping Buck’s Fizz whilst a hairdresser wrestles with my wayward curls, finally managing to corral them into some sort of recognisable hair style.

Geillis is sitting on the edge of the bed incongruously dressed in tiara and bathrobe, her hair arranged in an elaborate updo. I catch her eye through the dressing table mirror and smile before my vision is obscured by a miasma of hairspray.

A few final tweaks of my curls and it’s done. I am just amazed that my hair can be cajoled into such glossy, bouncy curls, held behind one ear by an ornately decorated comb. With suitable compliments and thanks, Geillis and I bid goodbye to the hairdresser.

The bride stands up and adjusts the belt of her robe. She seems the epitome of calm.

“Are you not nervous, Geillis? You’ll be walking down the aisle in about an hour’s time.”

“Weel, I am a wee bit worried about a couple of things,” she admits. “I dinna ken how ma cousin Janie will behave. She may try tae proposition every man under the age of seventy five. And as fer Dougal’s Uncle Eric—he has been known tae get steamin’ drunk and puke in the rose beds. But about the marrying? Nah, I dinna have any nerves about that. I want tae spend ma life wi’ Dougal and that’s what today is all about. I have nae worries about making that commitment. He’s the one fer me. When ye ken, ye ken. Trust me, Claire.”

The pocket of her bathrobe begins to buzz. She quickly pulls out her phone and reads the message.

“I’d best go. That was Mam, fretting about something or other. Are ye ok getting dressed on yer own?”

“I’ve managed for the past twenty nine years or so. I dare say I can manage another day.” I sigh theatrically.

“I ken. Ye can manage on yer own. Ye always do. But thanks fer being here with me today. It means a lot tae have the people who mean the most tae me around,” she leans over and gives me a kiss on the cheek. “But remember what I said, Claire, when ye ken, ye ken. Dinna ignore it.”

Pausing at the interconnecting doorway, she does a quick body shimmy and grins. “Woo hoo! I’m getting married. Canna believe it’s here now,”

From the adjoining room, I can hear a shouted response. “Geillis Duncan, ye get here now. Yer mam reckons that makeup lassie has done her eyeliner wonky. It looks fine tae me. Can ye come and talk some sense in tae the daft cow?”

“Alright, Da, I’m coming.” Geillis yells back before leaving to deal with her parents.

I sit down and study my bridesmaid’s dress, now hanging on the wardrobe door. I’m getting excited about the day ahead. Probably not as much as Geillis, obviously, but a host of butterflies appears to have taken residence in the pit of my stomach.

I’m truly thrilled for Geillis to be marrying Dougal—they love each other so much. But, also, it’s scary to me. She is willing, eager even, to commit to one person, to base her future life, her future happiness on one man. If they should ever leave…well, I’m not sure I’d be able to cope with that. If you love too hard, you can hurt too much. Trust me on that, I know. People leave you. Don’t give your heart to anyone, keep it hidden away, protected…intact.

The ping from my phone diverts me from this somber train of thought.

I’m downstairs at the hotel. Can you come and say hello?

I quickly type:

Come up to the 2nd floor. I’ll meet you by the lift.

Making sure the keycard is in my pocket, I slip my feet into the hotel’s complimentary slippers and shuffle out to meet Jamie.

I’m already waiting as the lift door opens and he emerges. My first thought is oh wow, as is my second...and third. He has made an effort for this wedding, and it’s certainly paid off. Eschewing the more formal Prince Charlie style, he’s wearing a charcoal grey jacket and waistcoat, perfectly matching the grey in his kilt. A crisp white shirt and burgundy tie complement the secondary colours in the tartan. His sporran is black leather, heavily etched or embossed. I can’t quite make out the detail. Then I feel myself blush as I realise I have been clearly staring at his...er, lower body. I look up quickly.

Fortunately, he doesn’t seem to have noticed. He looks me up and down and smiles. “Nice outfit,” he comments drily. “Is the bride wearing white towelling too? What’s the theme? Salon chic?”And is that part of the design?” He points to an orange stain on the front of my robe. I pull a face and tie the belt tighter, trying to tuck the offending piece of material out of sight.

“Must have spilled a drop of my Buck’s Fizz.”

“Drinking already? Dinna be staggering down the aisle.”

He reaches out towards my hair and pauses for a second before making a random circular motion with his hand. “And this…I like yer hair. It’s verra…verra…” he searches for the word. “... asymmetric.”

“Thank you,” I hold the ‘skirt’ of my robe and bob a little curtsy. “That’s totally what we were going for—asymmetric.”

He laughs. “Nah, seriously. Yer hair and yer makeup look grand. I’m sure ye’ll look lovely in yer dress.”

I gesture to my room. “I’d best finish getting ready.”

“Aye, I’ll see ye downstairs.” He presses the button for the lift.

“By the way, you look grand too.” I try to say it in an understated way. It’s true, but I don’t want him to read anything into the statement.

The lift arrives and he steps inside. As the doors close, he fires a parting shot. “Especially the sporran, eh?”

*********

Now in my bridesmaid’s dress, I practice a couple of pirouettes in front of the mirror before hearing a quick knock on the door to the adjoining room.

“Ye ready, Claire? Mam’s jes’ gone down. Only us three left.”

I walk through to the other room to be met by a riot of open suitcases, bags and boxes. A variety of towels, dressing gowns and footwear seem to be carpeting the floor.

“‘S ok,” Geillis’ voice comes from behind me. “It’s no’ ma problem. I’m no’ sleeping here tonight. I’ll be in the bridal suite. This’ll be Mam and Dad’s room.”

I turn to see my best friend now fully dressed and ready. Her father is hovering next to her, clad in kilt and full formal regalia. I always knew she would win that battle.

As beautiful as she looks, the thing that really strikes me is the way her father is watching her, with such love and pride. She returns his gaze and brings her forehead to rest against his cheek.

I swallow hard, fighting the desire to shed a tear. It’s such a precious image, so intimate, but also, I realise that, since Lamb died, I have nobody, no father figure, to share something like this. I feel a momentary pang of, not jealousy, but a feeling of regret over an emotion that I will never get to experience.

And then, just like that, the moment passes.

It always does.

Geillis passes me a creamy white posy tied with a simple ribbon and gathers up her bouquet of peonies, roses and fragrant eucalyptus.

“OK,” she takes a deep breath and breaks into a huge grin. “I think I’m late enough tae get Dougal jes’ a wee bit nervous. Time tae roll.”

*******

The hotel’s orangery provides a perfect setting for the wedding ceremony. Softly diffused sunlight filters through the white muslin drapes at the large windows. A slight breeze wafts the fabric gently, giving tantalising glimpses of the formal gardens outside.

At the end of the room, Dougal and Angus stand beside a large arch of succulent green foliage, staring straight ahead as Geillis and her father begin the procession down the aisle with me following.

Even before he turns to look, I can spot Jamie — his auburn curls are head and shoulders above those around him. He stays still at first, but as we draw near he turns around and grins before doing his funny blink, screwing up his face and closing both eyes, which I have learnt, is Jamie’s attempt at a wink. I return his smile before focussing on the arch getting ever closer.

Dougal appears rooted to the spot, but Angus turns around and watches for a moment before giving me a perfectly executed wink. I smile politely even as I shudder inwardly. The sheer self confidence of that man is beyond belief. Then he disappears from my thoughts as Geillis reaches the arch and passes me her bouquet to hold. The joy on her and Dougal’s faces as they prepare to make their vows is wonderful and I’m so happy to be a part of it all.

***************

They say the sun shines on the righteous. Well, Geillis and Dougal must be exceptionally good, as it’s a perfect summer afternoon. It’s beautifully warm, but not too hot, as all the guests mingle in the gardens, admiring the beautiful surroundings whilst drinking chilled champagne.

The photographer has finished with the formal photographs, so I’m allowed to relax and enjoy a glass or two. I can still spot him wandering around, ready to take more natural, candid shots of the proceedings but nobody seems to mind.

I was initially worried about inviting Jamie to the wedding for a couple of reasons. The first was my friends. Of course, my friends are great, but Anna and Mary can sometimes have an issue with boundaries and I had visions of the ‘conversations’ they might try to have with Jamie — ‘nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition’ unless Anna and Mary are around.

The second reason was that Jamie would literally know only one person at this wedding —me. And that, when I was off doing official ‘wedding stuff’, he would be on his own, billy-no-mates. But, as I look around, I realise I had absolutely nothing to worry about on that score. He has the knack, it seems, to get on with everyone.

At the moment he’s talking to Geillis’s father, laughing and joking like they’re old friends. He notices me looking at him, lifts his empty glass up and points to me. I hold my glass up and nod. He excuses himself and strolls towards the bar.

There’s a slight touch on my elbow. “Hello, dear.”

I draw my attention to the old lady standing next to me—Geillis’ great aunt Frances. I’ve met her on a couple of occasions before and have always enjoyed her company. She’s a straight talker and makes no bones about it. “When ye get tae my age,” I remember her commenting to me “ye dinna have time tae beat about the bush, ye need tae say what ye think.” I like that in a person.

“Hello, how nice to see you.”

“Ye too,dear. I must say ye’re looking awfa bonnie in that dress. It’s a fine colour on ye.”

“Thank you. And you’re looking lovely yourself.”

Frances makes a self deprecating ‘hmph’ sound, dismissing my compliment with a wave of her hand. “Away wi’ ye. Ye do yer best wi’ what ye’ve still got. Which isna much in ma case.”

I shake my head. “Not at—“

But she decides to change the subject and moves on with her next question. “Is that yer young man over there?” She points at Jamie, heading towards us with two glasses of champagne. “He’s a handsome chap, is he no’? Mind ye, that’s no more than ye deserve. Sae, mebbe ye’ll be next?”

“No, we—“

I have no chance to say anything more, before Jamie is by my side and handing me one of the glasses. I take a sip as he notices that Frances has no drink and, without hesitation, he passes the second glass to her.

“Aren’t ye kind… er?” She accepts gratefully.

“Jamie.”

“Weel, Jamie, let me tell ye. It’s been a long while since a good looking young man has brought me a drink. I should make the most of it. Anyway, I was jes’ saying tae our Claire here, how bonnie she looks today. Does she no’?”

She fixes her gaze on Jamie, demanding an answer.

“Aye, she looks lovely.” His eyes meet mine for a second, before I look away and try to change the subject.

“Don’t you think Geillis looks beautiful, Frances?”

But, it seems that Frances has one line of conversation that she is keen to pursue. “Oh aye, she does. But, Jamie, I was jes’ saying tae Claire that mebbe she’ll be next. What d’ye think?”

Fortunately, I’m spared any response as a gong sounds and the maître d’ announces that dinner is served and that everyone should make their way inside to the dining room.

****************

Having narrowly avoided any embarrassment, I am somewhat apprehensive to see Frances at our table. Fortunately, Geillis’ cousin and baby are enough to divert her attention away from any matrimonial prospects that may or may not be on my horizon.

With Jamie sitting by my side, I catch him up on all the behind the scenes activity of my day and we fall into our pattern of easy conversation and gentle banter. From time to time, I can see Frances, opposite, watching us with a look of approval on her face, but she says nothing.

Once the speeches and toasts are over, there’s a palpable change in the guests. Jackets are draped over chair backs, sleeves rolled up and waistcoat buttons undone. I can spot more than one woman moving awkwardly in her chair, struggling to locate the shoes that were eased off out of sight under the table. Cheeks become flushed with an abundance of rich food and tongues become looser with a surfeit of fine wine.

I sip my whisky, savouring its peaty smokiness. Jamie is in a serious rugby related conversation with his neighbour. A rustle of fabric behind me announces the arrival of the bride, a look of frustration on her face.

She greets the table politely before whispering “Can I borrow ye, Claire?”

I make my excuses and follow her into a quieter room.

“What’s up, Geillis? Is everything alright?” I’m concerned that there’s something genuinely wrong.

“It’s his bloody family,” she hisses. “The Mackenzies, if ye give them an inch, they’ll take a fuckin’ mile.”

She takes a deep breath and continues. “Dougal invited his second cousin Gary and his wife tae our evening do. Jes’ the two of them mind. Sae they turn up an hour and a half early and try tae cadge dessert and brandies from the waiters.”

“Where are they now?”

“Och, they’re sitting outside wi’ a couple of spare bottles of wine.” She gestures angrily to the gardens visible through the window. “And they’ll be first in the queue fer the buffet this evening, nae doubt. And what's more, they took it upon themselves tae bring their three bairns too. Weel, I say bairns, but they’re all in their twenties so it’s no’ as if they dinna have a babysitter.”

She finally sits down and lets her shoulders relax.

I take her hand and try to look serious. If this is the worst thing that happens today, that’s not so bad. Although clearly, in Geillis’ eyes, this is a catastrophe. “It’s not going to spoil anything really is it? They didn’t gatecrash the meal or the speeches,” I speak in a soothing tone. “Are you ok now?”

She nods. “Happen ye’re right. I jes’ wanted tae get it off ma chest. And I kent what I was getting in tae wi’ his family. But tae drag Gregory, Alicia and Laoghaire uninvited wi’ them jes’ pisses me off.”

I stare at her. “Laoghaire? Laoghaire Mackenzie?”

“Aye, that’s right. Unusual name, is it no’? Ye dinna find many of them around—thank god.”

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