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burnedbyshoto · 3 years

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the bodyguard

— Kirishima gets assigned to be the bodyguard to one of the worlds greatest idols: you. —

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pairing: bodyguard!kirishima eijirou x idol!reader

warnings: nsfw, 18+, brat taming, authority kink, spanking, blowjob, slapping, choking, brat taming, brat!reader, modern!au, no quirks, bodyguard!kirishima, idol!reader, PTSD portrayal, anxiety, war flashbacks, implied minor character death, drugging, alcohol consumption, size difference: kirishima is 2 feet taller than you, regardless of the reader’s original height. If you’re 6 ft congrats he’s 8 ft.

word count: 20,500

a/n: this is for the bnharem collab.... im so sorry, it’s 4:30 am and I have a plane to catch in 2 hours to get back to school. thank you jo for proofreading this for me because lol I am a mess. if the paragraph spacing did not work as I wish it does, please let me know so I can go in and edit in visible paragraph spacers!

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“I’ll be okay.”

The smell of dirt, sweat, and blood clung to the air.

The sun was setting, its blood-red shine illuminating against the destroyed earth, making the already bloodied soil even bloodier.

There was no telling if the land was quiet, if the reason why the world's silence was because the world just for this moment had gone silent, or if the earlier explosions were still ringing in his ears.

Kirishima sat wounded, his back pressed to the wall, his eyes wide, breathing erratic. He can’t move, can’t bother picking up the gun that lays abandoned by his knee as warm, sticky liquid spills onto his clothed knees and continues to soak the fabric of his jeans.

What had he done?

What in the fucking world had he done?!

BOOM!

Kirishima stills, his eyes stilling on the floor and looking at the clear moisture. He doesn’t need to touch his face to know it’s a combination of both sweat and tears.

His ears sing with white noise, the erratic beat of his heart, and his pained breathing.

“I’ll be okay,” the ghost taunts his mind.

But I’m not okay, Kirishima tries to speak, but knows with how his tongue is sitting like a thick dried sponge in his mouth, he won’t be able to speak. Pushing off the cold floor, flops onto his back, his arm flinging over his closed, shaken eyes until the ringing in his ear disappears into his alarm clock.

05:30.

Kirishima lays there for a bit more, his chest still heaving heavily with the weight of lead.

Inhale.

Hold.

Exhale.

Better?

No, not yet.

Kirishima runs through breathing exercises, his chest never stopping in it’s hiccuped, broken pants as his memories continue to haunt his mind. If only he was smarter, more observant, better.

“Time to get up, time to get up, time to get up,” his phone screams with his second alarm set at 06:45. The sound does what it’s intended, jolting Kirishima out of his own head. His labored breathing shallowing just enough for his lungs to finally grasp ahold of its required function.

Today was an important day for him; he needed to be on his tiptop game, according to what Toshinori said yesterday.

I’m okay, he convinced himself as he does every morning after having this dream. Kirishima flings his arm off his eyes, the morning purple sun shining softly through his blinds. I’m okay.

Date: 4/2 Time: 08:00 Location: UA Services

“And in other news, music industries princess Y/n has been attacked by yet another round of masked perpetrators. Fortunately for the music idol, she was left unhurt but was clearly rattled. This is but the fourth attack on Y/n since three weeks ago. It’s leaving many of us fans, spectators, and civilians wondering just what is being done to ensure her safety? Y/n is reported to not have a single bodyguard to her name, wanting to quote-on-quote ‘experience her fans to the fullest’, but with these recent attacks, we can’t help but hope something is done. At least until something is done about these attackers—”

Kirishima’s eyes tore away from the screen, his lips pressed into a deep frown as he took in the story. There was deep worry about it, not only because he hated the idea of people getting hurt, but because he was a big fan of yours.

Your debut album had come out during his training camp for the military. Not only was it an instant billboard smasher breaking every standing record, but his commanding officers were obsessed with the album and played it continuously until they graduated. Most of Kirishima’s comrades came to dislike your music solely because they remember throwing up, bleeding, and suffering while you sang about love and whatnot, but Kirishima? Kirishima fell in love.

It was a bright spot in his life, and he was grateful for your music, even if it has been ten years and six albums since the training camp.

“Yo, Kiri!” a voice cheered out happily as a hand clasped onto his shoulder from behind. Kirishima held the flinch that threatened to rip through his bones. Kirishima turned to find Kaminari grinning up at him, a cup of steaming tea in one hand as he grinned brightly at his coworker. “I heard you’re finally getting a good case today!”

Kirishima found himself relaxing at the sight of his rather spontaneous friend, a warm smile easing onto his face as he raised his fist for a greeting fist bump.

“We’ll see, I know Toshi’ said it was going to be important, but he also said escorting the paranoid old lady was important,” Kirishima sighed, his smile softening a bit.

Kaminari laughed, his arm slinging around Kirishima’s shoulders as he remembered that.

The little old lady was sure that the government was out to kill her and wanted protection until her son returned from his vacation. Needless to say, Kirishima had thoroughly enjoyed his time with her, even if she was a bit scary. It was a low-risk job, and he only was paranoid by her cane, which she used to thwack his back many times as she talked about how plums extended your life.

“God, I remember subbing in for you for one hour because of your family emergency, and she was so scary! She still haunts my nightmares!” Kaminari shudders, placing the cup of his tea to his lip and taking a long, slow drink. His eyes shift over to the TV, which is still broadcasting the story of your attack. “What a bunch of bastards,” he growls, eyebrows scrunching as the news reporter ends the segment. “Thinking they can go after such a beautiful and talented idol… I’ll kill them.”

Kirishima was more than well aware of Kaminari’s plentiful budding romances. The blond man fell in love with just about any smiling woman who happened to waltz in front of him. Still, unlike most times, he found himself agreeing with him.

“It sounds really serious. I hope that she really considers some type of security team,” Kirishima inputs too, taking the teacup in his fingers with a nod of thanks. “There’re too many weirdos in Japan and in the world, I wouldn’t want to hear the news the day something bad happens.”

Kaminari hums, his face nearing Kirishima’s as he takes a small sip of the apparently black tea. His eyes scrunch, and Kirishima smiles awkwardly as the blond studies him intently.

“W-Wha—”

“You like Y/n!” Kaminari exclaims (accuses, maybe?), his arm leaving Kirishima’s shoulders as he points a finger accusingly at him. “I thought I was the only one in this department who did!”

“Don’t be an idiot, Denki,” the familiar voice of Sero responds for Kirishima. “Everyone in the world is in love with Y/n; she was voted the favorite artist of the year in our company. Everyone but Bakugou voted for her if I remember correctly.”

Kirishima looks over at his black-haired friend who is rummaging through his locker, his mouth curved into an easy, teasing smile as he looks between the bashful Kaminari and sneering Bakugou, who also seemed to just walk in.

“Her shit is basic and overrated,” Bakugou defended himself. “Nothing special and bad for your brain and ears.”

“Your go-to music playlist is fifty percent death metal and alt. rock. I don’t think you have ground to say that it’s bad for your brain and ears,” Midoriya’s snicker sounded from behind Kirishima, and he looked around to see the freckled man grinning at the snarling ash blond.

“And how does your stalker ass know that, shitnerd?!”

“‘Cause I’m a stalker, duh.”

“Oh, Bakugou-kun, Midoriya-kun! You’re both here! Todoroki-kun is looking for you!”

“I’m just saying that Y/n’s dates to all the award shows and premieres have been blond. She’s into blonds, so she would totally be into me!”

“Deku, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to kill you myself.”

“You wouldn’t even be able to protect Y/n, bro. The only thing you performed well on in the application process was the tasing part. You can’t even tase people repetitively! She’d be dead in a second.”

“Can you believe my client dropped me because I couldn’t cook a five-star meal correctly? Hello, I can make 7-11 into a five-star course; it’s not my fault they’re not refined.”

“Kirishima-kun, are you okay?”

“I deadass got into a dance competition on the way to work. That’s why I’m late, why would I lie? Of course, I had to compete; my reputation was on the line!”

“Kirishima-kun?”

“Yo, he’s not looking too hot?”

“Kirishima?!”

“Can you hear us?!”

Silence.

Kirishima found himself opening his eyes — when had he closed them? For a moment, the air turned coppery, his body feeling weak, and he thought he felt something heavy on his lap. But that wasn’t right; he was standing up, he wasn’t sitting down. Most importantly, he was in Tokyo, Japan. He was alright. He was safe.

The sweat that clung to the back of his neck was cold, clammy, and intrusive. His chest felt tight again, his hands shaking so harshly the tea's warm, dark liquid was sloshing onto the floor.

There were seven pairs of eyes on him, each a different color, each swimming with concern and other emotions. Kirishima knew his ears weren’t working right now, his face unable to meet his brain's screaming demands to smile, and he watched as their mouths moved as they questioned his sanity.

He was okay.

“Kirishima?”

Kirishima looked up, his neck craning to the side to see a tall, skinny man standing at the doorway.

Toshinori Yagi was an esteemed bodyguard, one of the best in the industry, which was saying something considering that most bodyguards went unknown and unnamed. According to Google, Toshinori gained the nickname All Might after saving multiple political and celebrity lives when the government could not. It was long after his prime, and the man had retired but has since filled as the company’s head — thus why this job was near impossible to get.

Kirishima heaved a breath, realizing that he hadn’t taken a single breath when Toshinori’s bruised eyes narrowed in his concern.

“C-Coming,” Kirishima smiled, the blood rushing to his ears mostly ignorable now, but the scorching concerned gazes of his friends feel like cinders on his shoulder.

He straightens his tie, fingers curling when he feels the cold sweat penetrating through his clothes, but Kirishima doesn’t let it show. Smiling like he does, Kirishima pushed through his friends and followed Toshinori out the door.

They walked down towards the conference rooms, rooms that held their contractors, in complete silence.

“This is an important case,” Toshinori began, his voice gentle and poorly hiding his concern. “I chose you because you are a great asset to have, Kirishima. You are strong and smart, and most importantly, are personable.”

Kirishima looked at the man, his face contorting with his anxiety. He didn’t want to be treated like glass.

“Honestly, you being so personable is why I chose you for this assignment. Todoroki-shounen was a contender at first, but he’s not much of a talker; the same goes for Bakugou-shounen. Midoriya-shounen was probably the best choice, but there’s a new assignment that asked for three, so I gave up those three,” Toshinori explained the current assignments. It both delighted Kirishima to hear that he could keep up with arguably the three most qualified workers here as it did, at times, make him feel lesser.

“Oh.”

But he was obviously not the first choice still.

“The only reason why you weren’t the first choice is because of what I walked into just now,” Toshinori interrupts Kirishima’s thoughts and words. Kirishima finds his eyes tearing away from the smooth, polished wood floor to see Toshinori stopping in front of Conference Room A, his gaze intense on him. “To be frank, I wasn’t too sure if we should have hired you all that time ago. You are excellent on the field, your skills are phenomenal. Something to be proud of, truly, but you are clearly not completely healed from your time on the force.”

“Toshinori—”

“Kirishima-shonen, I’m not saying that there’s shame in your current struggles,” Toshinori once again interrupts, his hand a soothing warmth on Kirishima’s shoulder. “I’m still not healed from my past injuries, and as many people have undoubtedly told you, it’s okay to not be okay. But you barely passed the psych evaluation and only passed your field training because you scored so phenomenally on the other things your lack of a shooting score passed you.”

Kirishima felt unable to look away from the piercing blue eyes, and the lump in his throat never tasted as bitter, as sad.

He had barely passed the admittance test.

“I just need to know, are you ready to take on this assignment?” Toshinori asks in complete seriousness. “It’s a high stake, big-name client. We do not expect anything untoward to happen, but we never know in these cases. I think highly of you, Kirishima-shonen, and if you are ready to take this on, I’ll believe you, but likewise, if you’re not, I will gladly give this to someone else.”

Kirishima swallowed, his dry tongue passing through his equally dry lips.

Without question, he was not okay, not when he nearly broke down twice in a matter of hours, but it was just a bad day. He wasn’t as shaken as he was two months ago; he was going to his mandated therapy, talking to people who could assist him. Kirishima just didn’t want to be treated like glass anymore; he wasn’t glass; he was an unbreakable force.

Steeling over his nerves and ignoring how his stomach twisted and turned, Kirishima raised his gaze to Toshinori.

“I can do it.”

A smile.

“Good.”

If Kirishima was sweating because he was on a mental slip earlier, he was now sweating because he was beyond petrified and embarrassed. His hands raised up to brush against his red spikey hair, praying to God that it didn’t look dumb. His legs bounced at a speed that was bordering insanity, but he could only hear the sound of his racing heart as he stared at your frowning form from across the table.

It was you — the Y/n, the world's biggest music idol, an absolute legend in the making.

“This is our very own Kirishima Eijirou, age twenty-eight. He has been with U.A.Services for approximately six months now and is without a doubt one of our most capable and well-serviced men,” Toshinori began the introduction to the three people on the other side of the table. Kirishima could feel a blush rising up his neck and settling into his cheeks as what he presumed to be you, your manager, and your lawyer shuffling through paperwork that was very thorough on his background. “He was enlisted in the military before joining our ranks and was honorably discharged at the age of twenty-six as First Sergeant Kirishima Eijirou due to extreme injury. He excels in negotiating, scouting, and is, as you know, a skilled close combatant and was skilled in handguns—”

“I don’t think he’ll need firearms,” you interrupt, a frown on your face in contrast to the bright smile Kirishima was so used to seeing on your face. He tensed in worry.

“Y/l/n!” your manager, Sato Kimiko, scolded.

“What? It’s true! We’ll be around my fans for the majority, if not all the time! How is that right? For him to have a firearm around defenseless, and may I add, harmless individuals?!” you argued, your eyebrows scrunching in your fury.

Kirishima felt frozen in his chair, his eyes seeking Toshinori for guidance, but found himself unable to look away from you. He knew nearly everything about you, he could admit with a proud grin that he was a super mega fan of you, and he might have, at one point, looked your height up to imagine how you would appear beside him. Kirishima had known this entire time that you were two feet shorter than him, but it hadn’t hit what that meant until he was shaking your hand when he first entered.

You were tiny.

His dick and mind really liked that, and seeing your own passion spilling out for your fans was making him fall deeper into this hole he had for you.

“You don’t have a say anymore? Do you understand? You were nearly assaulted yesterday, and we are all done waiting around for something serious to happen!” Kimiko yelled, her face contorted into a look of both frustration and fear. “Either you take this, or we all leave you. I won’t have you murdered in front of me! You’re twenty-six now, stop acting like a damn brat and grow the hell up!”

The words scorched the table, blistering heat filling the conference room as you met Kimiko’s glare.

Kirishima watched with a dropped jaw as your nostrils flared, your lips pursing, and your eyebrows furrowing with unspoken distaste and anger.

“Six months tops.”

“Uh, yes,” Toshinori interjected. “Our contracts only last up to six months for new clients, but if you find yourself wanting to extend your contract after those six months, we are very much open to negotiations.”

You nodded your head, your eyes falling back onto the booklet in your hands that exposed all the information available on Kirishima. From his likes, dislikes, to his allergies and the reason why he was discharged. Each in disturbingly deep detail to make sure all things were up on the table.

“So, you can’t shoot your gun, Kirishima-san?” you speak, your voice tight, a pleased, almost taunting tone.

Kirishima stills, embarrassment bubbling in his chest as you drop the booklet onto the table, exposing his military history to him and you.

“...no,” Kirishima answers truthfully.

The lawyer shifts from the other side of you, his eyebrows scrunching as he too comes across that piece of information.

“He won’t use firearms?” the lawyer scoffs, his semi-permanent frown deepening. “How will we know that he will keep Y/n completely safe from any sort of danger that may come her way? We’ll be paying six months for a glorified security guard? We want a bodyguard.”

“And we clearly have one,” you snap back, your eyes narrowing. “If my bodyguard isn’t Kirishima-san, I’m not getting one. I mean, isn’t that what you said earlier?”

“When we were assuming that the person Toshinori was assigning to your case was a well-rounded bodyguard. Not one that was still clearly haunted by his past.”

Fuck, that one hurt.

You scowled, your head tilting as you bared your teeth slightly, “And what? He managed to get into the best agency in all of Japan in spite of that. Sounds like he’s competent. I already told you I won’t take on a team, just one individual. I trust in Toshinori-san’s guidance and his choice in picking Kirishima-san. If you disagree, that’s too bad for you.”

“Y/n! Please stop this! You’re being ridiculous!” Kimiko huffed, slamming her own booklet down, her eyes drowning with her exhaustion. “I’m so sorry, Toshinori-san, Kirishima-san.”

“H-Hey, it’s okay!” Kirishima immediately imputed, his hands raising in a sign of retreat. “I know that Y/n has always enjoyed her independence as a solo star, and how me being involved now is imposing, especially after multiple attacks.”

Kirishima felt that his smile was a bit strained, a bit too forced, especially as your eyes hawked onto him. He felt like you were examining him, like a lab rat going through its initial trial and not knowing just what was to be expected.

“Six months?” you spoke, your gaze not leaving Kirishima’s own.

“Six months,” Kirishima agreed.

You hum, your head nodding. “Fine, six months tops unless the Lieutenant Colonel can apprehend these assholes faster.”

It had been ages since Kirishima had been called by his title, and for some reason, he found himself blushing. His mouth, for the first time this entire meeting, curled into a wolfish grin.

“You got it.”

The lawyer groaned, entirely aggravated and insulted. He stood up, “You’re asking to be murdered, Y/n. Don’t come haunting me when you end up dead and mutilated. You deserve all the shit you’re getting.”

Kirishima watched with his lips parted in a bewildered expression as the lawyer walked out of the room with a loud slam of the door.

You were unfazed, and Kimiko groaned, exhausted and embarrassed as she mumbled a weak, sullen, “I am so, so sorry, Toshinori-kun.”

“Ah, Kimiko-chan, it’s okay!” Toshinori shook his head and smiled knowingly. It wasn’t as if the long time famous bodyguard hadn’t seen his fair share of childish fights between clients. “Thank you for coming as always, and we’ll do our best to make sure that Y/n is in the best of hands.”

“Thank you… and so, the rest of the contract?”

“Ah, yes, let’s continue.”

So, the contract was discussed to full detail.

For six months, Kirishima would be attached to your side. He must always remain at most three meters away from you when there is no one around, and during fan interactions no more than one meter. He had a full say about your safety. If things got rough, you were to follow his every command. Your agency would pay for his room and lodging. He was to wear black pants and a black long-sleeved cotton tee. He would be working with every venue, every hotel, every conventions security team. He would lead them and never leave your side. He was to be awake an hour before you, rest when you were asleep so long as it was safe to do so. He was your guardian angel of sorts, and you would do nothing but adhere to him.

Most importantly, according to Kimiko, there was one thing they were hoping for: Kirishima's help and discretion. For the next six months, they would be relying on Kirishima’s support to figure out who the group behind the assault was and who the mastermind was behind it all is.

Or so the contract said.

“Y/n!” Kirishima called when the papers were signed, and the day he was set to start was printed. He will begin tomorrow. “Wait!”

You stopped at the door, Kimiko and Toshinori chatting merrily between them as they exited the conference room, Toshinori’s booming voice asking if it was true that Kimiko was attending to a near forty clients to which she bashfully admitted to. You were dressed in a creme knit long-sleeved shirt, faded ripped jeans, and a pair of nude heels. The heels were big, undoubtedly giving you inches, but you still barely got to his shoulder.

“I-I’m looking forward to looking — I mean working with you!”

You looked at him closely, your eyes dragging to the top of his toes to the tallest spike in his hair before your lips pulled into a contemplative pout. You looked back to his eyes, and you steeled over, your head tilting to the side.

“I mean no offense, Sergeant, I thank you for doing your job, but I have no intention of looking forward to working with you. I don’t want you here, so do your best to ignore the contract and realize that I am the most important person, so you will follow my demands.”

Kirishima can do nothing but stare as you turn on your heel and leave.

Well, so much for a good case.

Date: 5/2 Time: 14:00 Location: Tokyo Music Stadium

If you would have told Kirishima Eijirou that he had been working for the grand, the perfect, the fantastic music idol Y/n for a month now, two months ago, he would have laughed so hard he’d cry. Not only would he have not believed it, but he would only think of a million and two scenarios where he would go the entire day flirting.

Now a month into knowing you, of being your bodyguard on a contract for six months, Kirishima could say that of that entire thought, the only thing he had been right about was that he was, in fact, crying. Not only has he never managed to speak an entire conversation with you despite being attached to your hip seven days a week, but despite your much shorter stature, you had managed to get away from him.

You always managed to sneak away from him.

Kirishima could admit that the no more than five meters rule had been wholly and utterly demolished.

And now, Kirishima was crying, not out of joy, but of pure manly fear as he raced through the backstages of the stadium, desperate to find your short-ass anywhere.

“Go, Kirishima!” someone yelled as Kirishima whizzed past him, “Find Y/n!”

“T-Thank you!” Kirishima screamed as he continued onward, the yellow-lit concrete hallway seemingly haunting the further he went into it. The earpiece in his left ear shrilled, the telling sign he was getting a call. Putting a finger to the circle in his ear, he answered the car. “Hello?!”

“Ah, Kirishima-san!” Kimiko’s voice chirped on the other side of the line. “Wonderful to hear your voice again! I’m calling to let you know that the tour bus is parked outside of the venue now. The concert was a smashing success, and she’s come out unharmed for the past month! To make matters even better, since your arrival, there have been no more assault attempts! Oh, um, sorry, where are you guys?”

“We’re just, um!” Kirishima tried not to pant into the microphone; he was still racing ahead, his head peeking into every door and room he passed. “Y/n needed to use the restroom?!”

“Oh, wonderful. Okay! Let me know when you two are on your way over!”

“Ya, okay, bye!”

“By—”

Kirishima hung up as he crashed through the doors at the end of the hallway.

It was night out right now, the full moon reflecting down on the dirty concrete with the same intensity as the streetlamps overhead. And in the middle of a crowd of around twenty people was the person Kirishima was trying to find: you.

You were still dressed in the final costume change of your concert. Even from a distance, Kirishima could see the glitter and highlight on the tip of your nose and the curve of your cheekbones. The crowd around you was clearly not hostile. Each face was bright with broad smiles and sparkling with fresh tears, each voice high and pitchy as if they were talking with some goddess and not you.

There was a slight longing in Kirishima’s chest at the sight of you interacting with your fans, your smile was so beautiful, and he wished just for a moment that he was the one that it was directed towards. If he had met you as a fan, and only a fan, he wonders if you would look at him as you did the others. Would he see the pure joy in the depths in your eyes, the love, wonder, and pride as they asked you questions and answered your own?

He wanted to be just a fan.

“Y/n, the tour bus is here,” Kirishima finally found his voice, the tenor of his voice spreading through the narrow alleyway. “Say your goodbyes.”

He had to ignore the way you stiffened immediately, the unsolicited joy in your face breaking and becoming bleak as you met his gaze. Kirishima absolutely did not feel pressure behind his eyes when you rolled your eyes and began to say your goodbyes; he did not!

The group of fans waved goodbye as you walked backward toward Kirishima; you didn’t stop waving and continuing your parting conversations with the group until the metal doors of the stadium doors closed behind the two of you. Kirishima let out a sigh, his eyes closing for a brief moment before looking down at you. You were expressionless, eyes cold as you looked dead ahead.

“You’re not supposed to run away like that.”

“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t tell me what to do, Sergeant.”

“You know I can’t do that it’s not—”

“Part of your contract. Yeah, I know, but that’s your contract, not mine.”

“Oh, okay. Um, Kimiko? ...yeah, we’re heading out now. Five minutes, till.”

And then there’s only silence.

Neither Kirishima nor you bother talking the entire walk towards the tour bus, and you ignore Kimiko’s call that your lawyer would be meeting briefly before tomorrow's fan signing event. You walk into the bus and go directly to the beds, throwing yourself into the terribly padded bunk and passing out without so much as a sound.

Kirishima sinks into his own bed, it’s too small for him, but there’s nothing he can do about it. Sleep overcomes him easily these days; he’s always way too exhausted in chasing you down like some spoiled toddler you’re behaving like to dream. But that’s okay, he thinks as the comfort of sleep begins to dig its skeleton fingers into his side, at least the exhaustion stops the night terrors.

Date: 5/3 Time: 10:00 Location: Tokyo Music Tower

Now, Kirishima knew that it was a common belief and a nearly proven theory that when you met your idols, you should never ever have your expectations high on who they are as a person. Celebrities were out of touch, cruel, rude, nearly jaded. They weren’t exactly the common folk. With people willing to forget things like them being human beings themselves or the common thread of celebrities being too rich to care, any type of famous person was cold, rude, and ruthless.

He knew that.

He also knew that you weren’t like the nearly proven theory.

You were kind, sweet, a practical angel to anyone who dared to approach you. You were the exception to the rule, an outlier to them all. You spoke politely to all your fans, domestic and foreign, and you treated each fan like the most special person in the world.

You were a good person.

But Kirishima knew, just as you reacted to any cruel person you encountered, you had an edge. Your words were as vicious as your name was known. He genuinely enjoyed watching you put assholes into place, but he sulked, knowing he was always at the receiving end of the sharp, bitter tongue of yours.

For a month and a day now, he had been the number target of your bitter words and scorching hate, but he admitted that he enjoyed it when it wasn’t directed at him, if but a little bit.

“I’m not renegotiating my contract!” you groan, your palms slamming into the depths of your eyes. “I already told you that I don’t need all that money!”

“And I’m telling you that you need to increase the wages that you pay the rest of your team instead of all those charities or else people will begin dropping you!” the lawyer countered with similar fire, his scowl angry enough that Kirishima felt like he had to tear his gaze away from this horrible battle. “You won’t be the best of the best forever, y/n, get over your stupid savior act and look over the changes!”

Kirishima looked over at you, his eyebrows pinching as he watched you fold your arms, your cheeks pushed out to a puff as you looked at the stack of papers with the title page fully covered with the word Contract of Y/n and Co. on it. Well, it seemed that the rumor of you spending your paycheck on things that weren’t you was right, how entirely manly.

“Oh fuck off,” you growl, pushing out of the chair and storming away.

Kirishima glanced over at Kimiko, who was looking pale and exhausted, undoubtedly exhausted from the past thirty-minute battle between the lawyer and the idol that neither made a single step forward nor a step back. How you had the energy to fight so passionately was beyond him. Kimiko nodded minimally, her lips parting in a sigh as Kirishima stood up and followed after her.

“The only way that brat is going to listen is by force,” the lawyer sneered, his voice fading into the room that Kirishima exited. “If that’s how she wants to play, so be it.”

Fortunately for Kirishima, he catches up to you. There are tears of fury dripping down your cheeks, and he feels unable to speak as he discovers a new layer to you.

...how interesting.

“It’s my money,” you speak, but Kirishima is unsure if those words are meant for him or for the void, the earth that you would much rather converse with than him. “I already pay them all a much greater paycheck than they should be getting considering their client pool. Why do I have to bend to their stupid will when I’m the one making the money.”

Kirishima blinks, wondering just what people might want to raise with their contracts. But, he knew you were right. By her account, Kimiko had a client list of many successful individuals, and he may not know anything about the lawyer, but if he worked with Y/n, his name must be good. Guess they weren’t like you.

“People are selfish assholes,” was the only thing that Kirishima could think of, and was something he spoke before he could stop himself.

But you stop in your storm, the anger that clouded you somewhat dissipating, clearing just enough for you to turn to him, your sharp, beautiful eyes for the first time filled with rage that was not pointed at him, and an emotion that made him think of… amusement?

“Yeah,” you agree, a half-smile cracking onto your face, and Kirishima feels his soul begin leaving his very body. “People are selfish assholes, huh?”

“Very much.”

There’s a calm, a snorted chuckle, and Kirishima finds himself stumbling further into the abyss of his feelings for you.

The next ten hours seem to pass in a blur, Kirishima feeling like he was on Cloud Nine as he stood behind you, three meters as he watched fan after fan approach you. Signatures were made, pictures were taken, and Kirishima found that he never once had to approach.

Maybe, he thinks, just perhaps, the two of you can overcome this.

Ten minutes after the official signing is done, Kirishima can’t find you, and he curses loudly into the echoing floor.

So much for change.

Date: 5/17 Time: 23:00 Location: The Parking Lot - Mt. Lady Studios

Kirishima was, for the lack of better words, completely fucking done with you.

Don’t get it wrong, he still was a complete and massive fan of yours. He would never once betray his loyalty to you and your musical career, but he was slowly starting to realize just why the lawyer was set to dying of a heart attack any time soon. Despite your early entrance to stardom and the stuff of legends, you had kept your fiery, stubborn individualism.

Kirishima thought it was absolutely hot and sexy at times, especially the times where you strut around in revealing clothes because ‘this is your body,’ or the lingerie campaign you completed two days ago as part of some fundraising event. There were significant perks to your strong handle and claim to keeping your indestructible personality, but it came back to rub them all back in the worst of ways when once again, you escaped from Kirishima’s side.

To be fair, most of the time, Kirishima was a very level headed individual; he was near impossible to rile up despite popular initial belief. I mean, he was good friends with Bakugou Katsuki, who riled up just about anyone he talked to! He needed to have steel calm emotions, or at the very least portray that he does. But even the unbreakable after tireless attempts can, at times, be broken.

It had been a hard morning.

Kirishima had woken up in a panic, the sweat of his night terror soaking through the sheets of his bed, and his head felt like lead. They had been in the tour bus for the entire day because you were going from the tip of Japan to the bottom of it, thus meaning that you couldn’t run away from him, concluding that when he went to bed that night, he was merely tired, not exhausted.

“K...Kiri...shima?” the voice whispered in his ears when he bolted from his bed and tumbled to the ground, his chest heaving in his panic as he cried.

He only slept for four hours that night, the ghost of his comrade haunting him too much for him to ever drift back to sleep. The only thing he was grateful for when he stumbled down to the hotel lobby for breakfast was that he had an attack while in his own room and not in a tour bus with ten others.

But the lack of sleep and the twisting of his guts from his still unburied memories meant that his exhaustion was dialed up larger than he thought was capable. Today was an interview day plus a miniconcert at said interview.

That meant that for an hour before your interview and two hours afterward, Kirishima lost you and had to hunt you down. You weren’t making it easy on him and had started moving with the crowd you gathered to evade him.

But today, Kirishima was exhausted.

Today, Kirishima wanted to sleep.

Today… Kirishima broke.

“Let’s go,” Kirishima spoke in a low, commanding voice. His eyes were hooded as he looked down at you, the crowd of fans parting like the red sea as he stands behind you, larger than life, imposing.

You ignore him.

“We’re leaving, now.”

“Aw, did you make that just for me?! This beading is gorgeous!”

To be fair, Kirishima isn’t really sure if he’s crying right now or if steam is protruding from his ears like some stupid cartoon. The only thing he knows is that it's been a bit longer than a month, and his client is the most perfect person in the world except to him and some lawyer. All he knows is that he has been continuously mocked, shamed, and disrespected by his client, and at this moment, with his mind and body aching with the memories of the morning, he can no longer stop the tsunami of emotions and thoughts that shove out of him.

He grabs your wrist and begins pulling you away.

“We’re leaving now, sorry to disrupt your time. Come see Y/n another day.”

Kirishima isn’t even aware of your screams, the banging of your small fist against his back as his hand encompasses your bicep easily. He walks and walks and walks until he stops, his mind slightly put back into place.

“—FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?! LET GO OF ME, SERGEANT!”

Oh, right.

He lets go of you immediately and nearly snorts at how you stumble into his back. So small, so delicate, and so completely weak.

“You want to know my problem, y/l/n?” he asks, voice eerily calm, much calmer than he actually is. “My fucking problem is that I signed onto this case with a single rule: keep you in sight and protect you. It’s simple, almost too easy, isn’t it? But easy and simple is everything that this assignment is!”

Your face contorted into a flash of anger and embarrassment, your nose scrunching as you found your footing, “And I told you that I don’t give a crap about that contract! I didn’t want it in the first place, but no one listens to me!”

Kirishima snorts, his body shifting so that he can look at you properly; your face is seething, your teeth bared and eyes wild, but Kirishima has faced worse.

“It’s not in my contract to listen to you, unfortunately,” Kirishima points out, his eyes narrowing. “I would have a better time listening to you, trying to find an agreement that worked if you used that brain of yours and figured out a way to compromise with me.”

“Compromises aren’t—”

“You think I wouldn’t?” Kirishima almost whines, his voice tight with emotions, fingers fisting in his hair, “You really fucking think that after a month and how many days of me spending stupid hours trying to find your ass, most of the time never knowing if you’re dead or not, I wouldn’t want a better solution?!”

“Like hell they’ll kill me! And if they do, I don’t fucking care!” you stubbornly insist, finger buried against the swell of your chest.

“Oh my god,” Kirishima can’t stop the bitter laugh from escaping, “you’re ridiculous.”

“I’m ridiculous?! I’m not the ridiculous one here!” you cry, your eyes bursting with unshed, bitter tears. “So what that I run away from you? Can you imagine living the past ten years of your life trying to be something that the media wants you to be? No! You can’t, Sergeant! Those times where I’m running away isn’t to be some dick, but to give me time to be me!”

“You’re a goddamn idiot!” Kirishima barks, his anger curdling in his chest like a raging fire. “If you had looked at my damn file correctly, instead of focusing on the stupid shit like me not being able to fire my gun correctly, you would be more than aware of the fact that you are one of my favorite artists!”

“Wh-”

“I am one of the best in my company! I am easy to get along with, personal, manageable, flexible even, but from the very first moment you laid eyes on me, you’ve hated me! You talk down on me, you shit on me, my job, the reason I’m here! Listen, I would fucking love to be anywhere but here right now. I have literally never hated my job before, but you just made that a reality. But the worst part of this all is the fact that you seem to think I would have kept you away, prohibited you from doing things that I already know you love! You stand there and tell me that I would try to force you to do shit you don’t want when I have merely been asking for you to take me there with you! I don’t care if I have to stand away and watch, but I want to be there! I’m supposed to be protecting you, but you’re being nothing more than a stubborn brat who refuses to see the efforts I’m trying to make, and frankly, I’m done.”

Kirishima’s chest is burning with the lack of oxygen, his eyes narrowed and filled with raging fire as he stares down at you, his neck craned so that he could be closer, more daunting, intimidating.

“Fuck o-off,” you snap suddenly, a lone tear, your voice tight and shoulders tense as you storm off.

“So predictable,” Kirishima calls after you, but it’s not filled with the previous anger he had but the sinking misery and regret.

And for a moment, it’s quiet.

Until a single name is screamed.

“SERGEANT!”

And then the all too familiar sound of a fist colliding with skin.

The anger in Kirishima’s blood evaporates immediately, and horror sinks in as he turns towards where you had stormed off. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

The parking lot is filled with an ugly yellow light that seems to set the stage for what was to come down. His footsteps crashing down against the black pavement were mute in his ears, and his eyes were focused on your limp body slung over somebody's shoulder. There was one person behind him, the other one already hopping into a van; Kirishima was the devil on their heels.

“Come on! Let’s go!” the one in the van screamed, his voice full of gruff apprehension and fear.

The van turns on.

Kirishima grunts, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he sidesteps the man who was lingering behind the one carrying you and quickly slams his shoulder into the man's sternum, knocking him out the moment he collapses onto the ground.

He lets out a roar of such, his eyes glowing with anger and a single mind track to take down the person who held you, ready to throw your unconscious body into the back of the van.

Kirishima doesn’t even know when he manages to get to the man's side, one hand on his shoulder, the other on you, and with the strength and anger of a million fighting warriors, he ripped you from his hold and sent him stumbling into the trunk. Your shallow breathing brushes against his neck, and Kirishima is hyper-aware of the cursing men who chose to abandon their unconscious comrade on the floor.

With his arms filled by your unconscious body, Kirishima can only watch the van scurry out of the lot, the license plate immediately burning into his mind.

T082-23

When the man on the floor finally wakes up, he’s in police custody, and you’re just waking up. There's a bruise on your cheek, and you begin crying immediately.

Kirishima watches from the distance, his heart aching and guilt climbing up his throat as he watches Kimiko hold you close, her arms warm and tight.

Well, shit.

So much for the month of no attacks.

Kirishima sits in a waiting room, his head relaxed against the wall as he waits for your discharge from the hospital. They suspect a concussion, and they’re running some tests right now. The police are there too, trying to get information from you on the failed kidnapping attempt as well as beginning the initial trials of interrogation of the abandoned kidnapper with a broken sternum, ruptured spleen, and three cracked ribs.

He was not surprised when the police officers came to talk to him, and he gave them the license plate.

But they also gave him an essential piece of information.

(“Well, when we asked for a motive, it seemed that it wasn’t his idea,” the detective admitted, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “His boss said that, and I quote, Y/n will end up dead and mutilated as is deserved. She deserves all the shit she has coming her way, end quote. Any ideas of who it could be”

Kirishima rubbed a hand across his face, the words striking a bit too familiarly to him, but from where. He shook his head, his eyes focusing on his bouncing knee.

“Thank you,” Kirishima said, his tone pointed in a clear indicator that this conversation was now over. The detective nodded, his frown slight as he left. The moment he was gone, Kirishima pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Kimiko? Yeah, I think we might have our first suspect.”)

For now, he was waiting for you.

An hour passed before you shuffled into the waiting room. There was a bandage on your swollen cheek, but besides the obvious attack, your eyes looked strong, and it seemed like there was no concussion.

“I should be fine,” you speak first, your jaw tensing as if it physically pained you to speak (whether it was because you hated talking to him or because of the injury, Kirishima had no idea). “I will be fine; I just need some sleep.”

Kirishima nodded, his body completely exhausted, and his mind filled with nothing but regrets on how he handled his anger earlier. He needed to apologize. He wasn’t entirely wrong, but he had definitely crossed a few too many lines.

“Should we go?”

You chewed on your lip, your eyes looking down at the white tiled floors of the hospital — so bleak, so anxiety driving.

“I actually wanted to talk before we left.”

Oh?

“Of what, if I may ask?”

Your eyes raise back up before looking away again, “the contract.”

Kirishima finds himself nodding, his hand gesturing towards the empty seat in front of him.

“Sure.”

And with a heaving sigh that sounds like you were on the verge of tears, you sit before him.

The contract was then discussed.

It was decided that you could continue to interact with fans as you wish, so long as you took Kirishima with you. He didn’t care about the long hours, the manic fans, or the impending doom of a group of people who meant business. He needed to be there.

Everything else stayed the same, but Kirishima looked at you one last time that night in the hospital, his body leaning towards you as he did his best to keep his face void of emotion and any lingering teasing.

“I’ll only accept this new negotiation on one term.”

“W-What?!” you pause, thinking. “Fine, say it.”

“From here on out, I think we should be friends, yeah? I’m on your side, after all, it’s a bit weird if we stay just acquaintances.”

The tension and horror leave your body, and Kirishima, for the first time ever, bears witness to the most relaxed, meaningful smile he has ever seen you give. It had been one hell of a shitty night, but at that very moment when the seventh turned into the eighth, Kirishima felt a new warmth flood through his chest, his heart racing at the sight of your glorious smile.

“Of course, Kirishima.”

“Oh, and y/n?”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry about all that I said. It was unmanly of me and out of line.”

“It’s okay. To be fair, I was a bit of a self-absorbed brat, too.”

The next day, a picture of Kirishima holding you bridal style is trending.

Date: 6/12 Time: 19:00 Location: Hime Onsen

An Interview with Y/n | Vogue Japan 4.5 million views • Premiered 2 hours ago 874k [liked this] 12.3k [disliked this] Timestamp: 05:32 / 10:33

[Interviewer]: Now, Y/n, we must congratulate you on your latest achievement! Your latest self-titled album, ‘Y/N,’ has been nominated for a record high of twelve awards for the upcoming Japan Record Awards, which will be coming up in about a month! Tell us how you feel about this?

[You]: It was quite a surprise actually! I didn’t realize that it would have done so well in the critic's eyes to get this type of award. I am proud of myself and am excited to see all the other amazing artists and musicians who were nominated as well.

[Interviewer]: Now, your album is all about staying true to yourself, whether that be in love or war. It depicts your own highs and lows while also highlighting beautifully universal things many of us face. Without question, you have always been adamant on staying connected with your fans and keeping a simple rule: no bodyguards.

[Y/n]: Oh, (laughs) yes! That is definitely a new thing, huh?

[Interviewer]: A new thing and a beautiful thing at that, too! Look here!

[captioner notes: interviewer displays many photos of Y/n’s bodyguard, including the most famous one where he’s holding y/n after the failed kidnapped attempt]

[Interviewer]: This is a beautiful — don’t giggle! — a beautiful man, Y/n! What do you have to say for yourself?! Did you finally succumb to keeping untrue to yourself for this beautiful man?! If so, it is perfectly acceptable. By chance, is your contract with him done? I would personally love to have this man on my team.

[Y/n]: (laughing) By all means, take him! (Y/n looks behind her, her bodyguard is there) I’m kidding, I’m kidding! (pauses) No, actually, sorry. Kirishima is an outstanding bodyguard, and I have no intentions of leaving him so soon. Uh, while I did say I had no wish or intentions to have a bodyguard, obviously that was not the best solution, so I hired Kirishima. He is a wonderful addition to my team and still allows me to be authentically me, so it’s still all good.

[Interviewer]: Ah, okay, well, Kirishima-kun, if you ever need a new client, call me. But moving on, yes! Would you like to discuss the series of increasingly concerning attacks?

Kirishima stood in the softly lit hallways of a sauna.

Today was one of the last remaining days you had off, and in celebration of your upcoming award season, you had decided that it was mandatory to visit the hot springs. Everyone on your team — the backup dancers, band, and hair and makeup — were ecstatic to learn that they were being involved with it too.

This high-end resort had accommodated your entire team to receive their own private spring with an all-inclusive menu too.

It was thanks from the owner for the free PR and, of course, because they were some of your biggest fans. So, in thanks, everyone got to enjoy the springs.

Well, everyone but Kirishima, that was.

As of the past month, things between Kirishima and you had improved a lot.

With Kirishima no longer needing to run a marathon daily to find where you were, he would find himself walking at your side. He no longer felt like you hated him. There was respect and actual friendship between the two of you. You joked with him, showed him memes and TikTok, sent him snapchat streaks, and invited him to watch weird shows with you. You even complained to him about the things that annoyed you, namely Kimiko’s attention being stolen by other clients and the rude conversations you would have with the lawyer.

It made Kirishima’s chest warm up knowing that you were friends now.

A stressful month had passed into a friendlier one.

But there were some things that Kirishima would not have expected to… arise.

Namely you growing to be comfortable enough to walk around with nothing but a thin pair of panties and a large shirt. You curling into his side whenever you watched a show together in the bus, the way your lips brushed against his neck when he leaned down to hug you, or the very so not obvious teasing you would do when you changed in front of him. It was as if you were watching his every reaction, enjoying the way that his eyes horribly tore away, or the silent hitch in his throat whenever you speed his heart up.

The biggest surprise arose the night after the failed kidnapping attempt:

You had come to his room, hours after you were supposed to have fallen asleep.

Your eyes were sunken, still a bit tired, and the bruise on your cheek was looking bad. In your arms was a white binder undoubtedly filled with the introductory packet you had received at your initial meeting. Kirishima had opened the door in his sleepy state in nothing but gym shorts. He had barely started dozing off, his mind wouldn’t stop thinking of what could have happened if you hadn’t managed to scream, and so he kept tossing and turning.

Seeing you outside of his room, his head dropped down to look at you properly, and his fist rubbing at his eye fell, “Y/n?”

“Did I wake you?” you asked, your face filled with a shocked, near uncomfortable, and embarrassed expression he doesn’t recall ever seeing on you. “I’m so sorry! I’ll wait until—”

“No,” Kirishima grunts while he shakes his head, his voice raspy and dry from his lack of use. “I’ve been tossing and turning, um, what is it? Do you want to come in?”

“I-If that’s okay?”

Kirishima breathes out a bit, his shoulders relaxing as he smiles softly, “Come on, let’s talk about what’s on your mind.”

The door clicked behind your tentative steps with an echo, and Kirishima watched as you walked into the hotel room with wariness and caution.

“Would you like some tea?” Kirishima offered, picking up a shirt from his dresser and pulling it over his body. The fabric was tight against his chest and shoulders, but felt more appropriate to wear around you.

“No, I’m okay,” you politely decline.

You stood in the center of the room, unsure of where to sit, stand, or lay.

“Go ahead and make the bed,” Kirishima offered, taking the chair by the desk. “I promise it’s still clean.”

You laugh slightly, smile strained but grateful as you sit at the edge of the bed, binder resting on your lap.

“Thanks, I wouldn’t want to sit on a dirty bed,” you joke, but it sounds weak to Kirishima’s ears.

“So, what questions do you have?”

“Hm?”

“You have my portfolio,” he shrugs, leaning forward so that his forearms rest on his knees. “I have a feeling you have some questions.”

“Oh, right,” you whisper, your eyebrows scrunching as you open the binder to the first page, but your eyes are focused on the desk. “What’s the medication for?”

Kirishima turns his head to follow your gaze and comes across the yellow tinted medicine containers.

“My PTSD,” Kirishima answers honestly, his voice soft with emotion, but there was no shame in it. “My service had a difficult end.”

“That’s actually… that’s what I came to talk about,” you rush, your hands slamming the binder closed. “If you don’t want to talk about it, obviously I won’t push it! God, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have—”

“No, it’s okay,” Kirishima interrupted, his smile sad, but he stood up, his body a tower in front of yours as he urged you to sit back down. “It’s okay; I don’t mind talking about it.”

“B-But what if I say something that makes it all worse?”

A pause.

“Then I’ll tell you that it’s too much.”

A nod.

“Are you… are you still experiencing a lot of symptoms?” you ask, your fingers tightening and untightening around the binder.

“Some days are worse than others,” Kirishima admits, his shoulders shrugging. “I don’t experience much anxiety while in crowds anymore; I don’t have many flashbacks to those days anymore, not since February at least. I do still get… I still get night terrors and dream of that day. It’s nowhere near as bad as the first few months after the accident, but it’s still here.”

“What happened?” you asked after a bit, morbidly curious.

The file had all the details that proved Kirishima to be a master of firearms during his entire time on the force. He was a powerful combatist, and his ranking was a clear indicator of the respect and skills he had. Still, it was the quick honorable discharge, the near year-long hospitalization, and the current inability to use a firearm that concerned you.

What had happened?

“I was involved in a grenade explosion on my last day on tour. I was the only one who managed to survive the blast,” Kirishima easily stated, his voice quiet.

“Oh my god, I… holy shit, I’m so sorry.”

“Nah, it’s all good. There were only two others around, and one of them was already dead.”

“Was that um, Major—”

“We called him Crimson Riot, actually,” Kirishima smiled, a chuckle light on his tongue as he leaned back onto the chair, nodding. “Yeah, that was him.”

“Crimson Riot,” you repeat, nodding. “Did you watch him… watch him die?”

Kirishima presses his lips tightly together, and for a moment, you’re unsure if he’s going to cry, answer you, or tell you to leave. There’s a whirlwind of emotions on your optimistic and typically jubilant bodyguard despite your asshole tendencies that make your stomach twist.

“Yes,” Kirishima finally answers, and you nod.

It’s hours into the morning before you finally depart back to your room, the horrors of Kirishima’s past still pounding into your ears. Kirishima wouldn’t notice, and neither would you, but on his shirt and yours, there’s a few drops of tears the both of you shed when you said goodnight.

Sergeant Kirishima Eijirou, while on an active warzone, had accidentally struck and killed his superior officer, his friend, his role model Crimson Riot, thinking that he was nothing more than an enemy target as he sat wounded behind a wall. He died on his lap, and as someone came to help, a grenade landed two meters away before detonating.

“K...Kiri...shima?” Crimson Riot had whispered as he fell to his knees, blood gushing and seeping through his clothes, spilling onto Kirishima’s lap. “I’ll be okay.”

For whatever reason, since that night, Kirishima felt something in him shift. He still took his medication, still had his virtual therapy sessions when he could fit them in, and even had painful night terrors of that moment, but it was becoming less frequent.

He wasn’t made of glass.

There had been more instances after the kidnapping attempt, but unlike the last times, Kirishima was prepared. He had stopped each one, keeping you safe and sound. As of one week ago, he had officially been given a firearm to keep strapped to his thigh at all times now.

It was an unfamiliar weight, one that still twisted his stomach and made him nervous, but he knew the reason why it was needed. Since the gun had been added to his gear, the attacks stopped. He was definitely not ready to be firing it anytime soon, but it had deterred the attackers for the time being.

Kirishima paused when he heard his earpiece ring, and he dropped his phone where he had been watching your interview despite being there himself.

“Talk to me,” Kirishima answered, his finger pressing the accept button.

“Kirishima!” came the distressed voice of Kimiko, “We just got a tip!”

Kirishima stilled, his eyes scanning the empty hallways that stretched throughout the private hot springs.

“I don’t know, but a person with connections with this mastermind said something about how there were two more events he was staging. Today is one of them!”

Kirishima’s eyes widened, his lips parting to answer Kimiko when instead there was a large, loud crash in the water from inside your room. He assumed the worst.

“Y/n!” Kirishima shouted, hands throwing open the sliding door and racing through the storage room, the shower, and exited out into the hot spring.

Steam curled through the wind, the white wisps of steam feeling warm and light against Kirishima’s skin, and Kirishima panicked when he couldn’t see your shadow or figure in the hot springs.

“Where is she?! Is she alright?!” Kimiko panicked, her voice panicking already. “I’ll call the—”

Kirishima turned on his heel, ready to complete a full sweep of the outdoor hot spring when he crashed into something smaller than he was… smaller, softer, and definitely the shape of a woman. Kirishima felt his entire body stiffen when his rough palms felt the undeniable feeling of wet, warm skin.

“Oh my god,” he heard you shriek. “KIRISHIMA!”

“She’s all good, Kimiko,” Kirishima stifled out, his voice tight, his head slamming backward so that his eyes were concentrated on the starry night sky.

“...sorry… uh aha! Another client of mine is calling, goodbye!” Kimiko’s apology was meek and small before she hung up.

Kirishima’s mind was racing a mile a minute, but his body was frozen, unmoving like a rock when he realized that pressing to his stomach was, without a doubt, your breasts.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“What are you doing in here, pervert?!” you splutter, your hands pressing to his stomach as you step away. “Are you a pervert or something?!”

“I, no! No! Of course not! Fuck, shit, I’m so sorry! I’ll go! There was a tip that something was going to happen right now, and there was a crash and—”

“What are you looking at?” you exclaim, squeaky frustration heavy on your tongue. “There’s nothing wrong with the sky! Look me in the eyes? Have you never been to a co-ed hot spring before?!”

“Y-Yes, sorry!” Kirishima apologized, bowing slightly in apology before he peered down. Still, his face bursted in a flame as he watched the way your jaw dropped in disbelief, the dewy wetness of the hot spring clinging to your body. You were, obviously, soaked, and Kirishima bit his tongue as hard as he could to keep the whimper from expelling past his lips when he saw the light gleaming off your breasts. But he watched your face shift between a million emotions, each one appearing too fast for him to read, too fast to register, but he saw the way a single-arm wrap around your breast and the other shoving into his stomach.

“PERVERT!”

“What?!”

“That was a test! This is my private room! I have the right to not be willing to be looked at right now!” you shrieked as Kirishima spun around, allowing you the complete privacy of his gaze.

“You told me to look at you!” he squawked. “Y-You told me, and I listened because of our contract!”

Kirishima could feel his body trembling, his mind reeling in disbelief that he definitely saw you in your entire nakedness, and if the swirling heat in his stomach had anything to say about it, he liked it. Fuck.

There was a soft laugh and the sound of sloshing water as you probably (he wouldn’t know because he wasn’t looking) reentered the spring.

“I know, I was teasing,” you sing, and he can tell the water is gliding around your body. “Turn around, Kiri, let’s talk.”

“Haha, um, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea,” Kirishima admits, although sitting in this steam-filled space with just you sounds so very nice.

“Why not?” you asked, voice sounding a bit upset.

“I’m supposed to be outside, doing my job?”

“Augh, but these private springs are so boring alone,” your voice whines; the water sloshes, and Kirishima winces at the slight throb on his tongue as he continues to look at not your direction. “Turn around, Kiri.”

Not too long ago, you had taken to calling him Kiri, a subtle change, a not unusual nickname people gave him. But just because it was you, his stomach flipped and twisted, and now with the image of your tits in mind, his dick throbbed.

Gulping, Kirishima turned, his gaze bashfully looking down at you before glancing away. You were chest-deep in the hot springs, tendrils of your wet hair sticking to your neck. Was he dead? Maybe dreaming?

No, his dreams were never like this.

“Do you want to come in?” you continued to ask, your body moving towards him in the water until you reached the edge of the pool, arms testing into the black rocks. “You’re the only one not in one, and since I hate being in these alone, I figured you’d like to join.”

Kirishima wanted to join. More than anything, he wanted to take his clothes off and jump into the springs with you, for you, but that would be unprofessional. Entirely and utterly unprofessional.

“Please?” you ask softly, pleadingly, and Kirishima makes the mistake of locking his gaze with yours.

“...fine, but I’ll be on the other side of the spring,” he concedes, his steps near clumsy and oafish as he stumbles backward to the shower and closet.

“Such a gentleman pervert,” you tease, fingers curling as you wave at him until Kirishima finally closes the door behind him.

The empty room is nearly deafening in its silence and the future as Kirishima slumps against the sliding door, excited apprehension rippling through every cell of his skin as a smile spreads across his face. He walks to the storage room, and despite it being a private room, there were two closets. The closet not already occupying your clothes had the things needed for him, and thankfully, it fit.

He undressed slowly, folding his clothes and placing them into the cubbies. Fully naked, he approached the showers, and under the lukewarm showerhead, he cleaned his body of any grime, dirt, and sweat.

Feeling refreshed and clean, Kirishima began his descent to the hot spring, his heart hammering when his fingers grabbed the handle of the door.

“I’m coming in,” he announced, a healthy amount of fear, excitement, and heat drumming through him.

“I’ll keep my virgin eyes away from your body, don’t worry,” came your slow tease, and Kirishima snorted softly.

Kirishima stepped back out to the hot spring.

Just like the first time, the entrance to the spring was warm, the steam seeming thicker than last time, clouding the outdoor room and his sight. You were at the furthest out part of the pool, your back towards them as you worked your fingers through your scalp.

Discarding his slippers at the edge, Kirishima climbed into the pool.

The pool only went as far as his thigh, and he sank into the warm water. It felt wonderful on his body, relaxing his muscles just enough for him to wonder when was the last time he had managed to visit a hot spring.

“I’m in,” Kirishima said, his arms rising up out of the water, resting onto the black stone. “You can turn around now.”

“God, took you long enough,” you tease, your body twisting so that you were facing him again.

To Kirishima’s complete and utter surprise, you stilled, eyes dragging up and down his exposed chest, eyes locked on the series of tattoos all over his right pectoral, and trailed down his right arm. His lips felt dry as your eyes shifted back to his face, to his arm, and back to him. The smile on your face felt weak, but it sent a spiral of dizzying heat through Kirishima when he noticed the hushed lust.

For a while, the two of you remained at opposite ends of the hot spring. Eyes closed, hummed melodies passing through the song. You asked Kirishima about how he felt, if his medication was due for refills, if therapy was okay (he was doing better, a refill was due in two weeks, and therapy was going the same). He asked you about your relationship with Kimiko, with the lawyer, and if you had any real friends within the music industry (Kimiko was like an older cousin to you, the lawyer was a pain to deal with at times, and surprisingly, you did meet some genuine friends). You questioned how his friends were doing, if he had any contact with them despite their busy schedules.

So Kirishima found himself retelling stories of his coworkers turned close friends. Each story he told left both of you with sore stomachs from laughter, and tears at the corner of your eyes from laughing too hard.

“Was the tip story true?” you asked once the quiet overcame and grew old. You shift through the water, getting a bit closer to Kirishima.

Kirishima coughed, suddenly feeling a tad bit shy about his posture, but decided to keep from moving.

“You honestly think I would have barged into here just because I wanted to see you?”

Truthfully, had Kirishima been a man without morals, chivalry, or disrespect for you, he would have. Definitely would have.

“Let a girl dream,” you smile, like a luring siren as you wander closer by just a step. “It would go against everything I know about you, but it’s fun to tease.”

“You’re a bigger brat than I thought you would be,” Kirishima smiles back, trying his best to not show the way goosebumps were bursting against his skin, his eyes locked on yours, trying to not get distracted by the way your wet skin made his mind spin.

“I don’t think I’m a brat,” you counter, getting close enough that he could feel the currents of the water with your movement. But you were far enough that Kirishima felt like pointing out the fact you disregarded his keep apart rule would be a mistake. “How am I a brat?”

The sound of the water rippling through the springs along with the growing noises of the bugs began a melody around the two of you, and all Kirishima could do was stare at the way you blinked your eyes slowly — like a feline stalking a prey.

“A lot of ways, really,” Kirishima breathes, his heart rising up to his throat as he felt your hands gingerly place themselves on his knees.

“Yeah?” you ask, parting through his naked legs, and Kirishima felt his breathing stop when your exposed chest pressed against his. Your lips were ghosting so far from his but tantalizingly close enough that he felt drunk off your sweet breath. “And what are you going to do about it?”

Kirishima sucked in air, his arms resisting movement, and his eyes glanced down at the way your mouth was millimeters from his. His dick was very much interested in what he could do about it, and when your hands grazed up his thigh and onto his chest, Kirishima could feel something rumble in his chest.

He moved to eliminate the space, but there was a crash in the following spring, pushing you away from him long before he could claim your mouth.

“FUCK!” the person in the opposite spring screamed, and Kirishima’s eyes closed in his muted annoyance as you sighed.

His eyes dropped to the water, giving you the privacy to rise out of the water and make your way over to the wall.

“Jenny, are you okay?” you called.

“Give me a warning the next time you try fucking your hot bodyguard in the middle of a private onsen!”

“We weren’t fucking you prude!”

And with that, Kirishima took this as his embarrassed cue to leave.

He stood at the entrance of your private spring for about twenty minutes, entirely uncomfortable with the still hard dick in his pants, rubbing and chaffing against his jeans as he stood there. Eventually, you exited the hot spring, face glowing from the steam and eyes avoiding his gaze as you walked back to your room. Your robe was tight on your body, the hair on the nape of your neck pressed to your skin.

Kirishima sighed as he watched you enter your room, your smile short as you nodded a simple goodnight before letting the door slam shut behind you.

Rubbing his face, Kirishima listened to the voices in his intercom talk about how nothing had happened tonight. An attempted unwelcome visitor tried to get into your room, but they had stopped him. They didn’t fight, but they had run away the moment they caught on to the fact that they weren’t exactly authentic.

Kirishima sighed as he slumped into his room, collapsing on the too small bed as he found himself looking at the ceiling in deep concentration.

What was he going to do now?

That was undeniably sexual, his still semi-hard dick damning evidence to the known fact that he wanted you. By god did he want you. Wanted you beneath him, over him, splitting yourself down onto his cock while you gripped your arms and legs around him, fucking down onto his driving cock.

Kirishima groaned low in his chest, guilt blooming in the back of his throat as his palm rubbed his pulsing cock.

Bad, Kirishima, bad.

“Kirishima-san?” a voice broke through his earpiece, and Kirishima nearly jumped out of his skin. “Are you there?”

“Hi Kimiko,” Kirishima sighed, his dick deflating instantly. “Everything all right?”

“Ah, yes! Sorry about earlier, the false tip and the sudden abandonment!” Kimiko embarrassingly apologized. “My client was ringing for the fourth time, and while I care deeply for y/n, I had to take it!”

“Mm, no worries, Kimiko,” Kirishima smiled politely despite the lack of visual contact. “How can I help you?”

“Ah, yes,” Kimiko asserted, her tone changing from apology to one of formality. “So, about the visitor incident I’m sure you were brought attention to, it seems that the vehicle they came in was with the driver's plate: T082-23. Does that sound familiar?”

“Not currently,” Kirishima sighed, his body stretching into a sitting up position. “Does it to you?”

“No…” Kimiko admitted, and Kirishima could feel the worried frown on her face. “Well, I just wanted to call and give you that information. It was passed along to me, and they mentioned they hadn’t told you. And since I was going to give you the schedule for the upcoming JRA’s award day, I figured I’d let you know!”

“No problem! Let’s go over the schedule now?”

“Yes! I have a client meeting in America right after this! Can you believe it? An American celebrity wants my help?!”

“That sounds amazing, Kimiko!”

“Okay, so this is how the day’s going to go!”

Date: 7/10 Time: 18:00 Location: Tokyo Hotel Room 101

Kirishima watched as an entire team was getting you dressed up.

Two people were doing your hair, three people doing your nails, one person doing your makeup, and five getting one of your three outfits for the night ready.

According to you, as you had strutted around in these outfits nearly two weeks ago were your red carpet and beginning of the award show outfit, your performance outfit, and of course, the after-party outfit. Each one was different, yet when adorned on your body was a perfect replica of who you were.

Most importantly, the two of you had decided to ignore every single instance of tremendous sexual energy and desire that basically leaked from both of your pores. It was for the best to ignore it. There was no point in pursuing it, especially when there was a known hunt for you, and Kirishima was the last line of defense between you and whoever it was.

Whoever it was, pfft.

Kirishima was willing to bet on who it was already.

Since the night of the initial kidnapping that finally closed the gap between you and Kirishima, there was something that the caught criminal said that stuck with him.

Everything you had coming your way, you deserved, he had said in bitter spite.

The interesting thing was that it was the lawyer who had said that, multiple times at that. The lawyer seemed to have everything to fuel him to rage against you. Everything you said or tried, the lawyer was on your heel, barking at you that it was wrong. Kirishima had also seen the contracts between you and the lawyer, and the amount that he was paid to be your attorney was not large at all.

The mass majority of the funds you earned were always funneled towards charities and organizations you trusted to help people in need — in fact, it was almost 80% of your total earnings. A meek, barely larger than 20% was split between you, your lawyer, Kimiko, your music crew, and any other unforeseen expenses. The lawyer was also in a situation where he was not in demand with clients, and if you weren’t heeding his expensive tag, he needed a new contract with you.

A contract he was always demanding to discuss with you that you denied to change.

Attacks tended to happen days after you and the lawyer tumbled, not enough to rouse suspicion if you weren’t looking, but Kirishima was. He just needed damning evidence now.

Something.

Anything.

And for some reason, his gut was screaming at him that something big was going to happen tonight, that tonight was going to be the last attack—the one to end everything.

So he had told everyone about it. Kimiko, the security at the JRA’s, even you. It made him nervous.

It made his hand sweat, the gun strapped to his thigh feeling like hot iron as he stood about as you laughed with your makeup crew.

Kirishima swore, promised, and vowed he would protect you.

He was going to.

And when the gold dress was tied to your body, fitting you beautifully, Kirishima found himself unable to look away like strands of your hair framed your temples.

“What do you think, Kiri? Will I be on the Best Dressed List?” you asked, tearing Kirishima’s attention away from the bodice and skirt of the dress. Your eyes were bright, hopeful, yearning for a positive reaction from him.

“How could you not be?” Kirishima admitted, his grin toothy, and he shifted against the wall.

“You’ll make me blush,” you grin back, eyes batting just a bit as you clasp your hands together. It takes everything in Kirishima to keep from striding across the space between the two of you and kissing you silly. “Are we ready to go?”

Kirishima wet his lips, unwillingly tearing his gaze from you, and whispers into the intercom.

“Ready to move out?”

“We’re all clear.”

Straightening back up, Kirishima smiled at you, his head motioning towards the door.

“Alright, y/n, let’s see you make some history?”

“Damn right I will.”

Kirishima smiled as he exited first, carving the path for you.

Paparazzi were on you immediately, the lights flashing and terribly bright as he helped you through the throngs of them. His hand pressed to your back as they screamed demands, most of which you complied with until Kirishima stated that you would be late. You, unfortunately, couldn’t be late to the awards show.

Ushering you into the limousine, Kirishima follows in shortly after you, scrunching up in his seat as he sits opposite of you. However, your typical light and bright demeanor are gone; instead, you seem almost anxious as you open your handbag.

“You okay there?” Kirishima asks as he realizes you pulled out a distinctly obvious metal flask.

“Awards make me nervous,” you painfully admit; you're weakly smiling as you knock back a shot of the drink. “I hate winning and losing; the alcohol makes me less… of a wreck. Do you want some? I think it’s apple soju, I don’t know, a good luck gift from Kimiko.”

Kirishima grins, his eyes rolling as he decides to decline the drink. “Sorry, love, I think that I need to be completely sober for today.”

You scrunch your nose, obviously displeased, “Lame, who shows up to these awards sober?”

“Me,” Kirishima laughed, his head tilting back and scraping against the ceiling of the limousine.

“Such a prude, sober, pervert,” you sigh, taking yet another swig before putting the flask back into your bag.

“Such a brat.”

Just like every previous instance, your eyes seem to glow in glee at that name, your lips curling into a pleased smirk as you shrug. It's a sight that makes Kirishima’s mouth dry and heart racing. Fuck, he should not be thinking about fucking you in the limousine right now.

But before the heat in the limousine could simmer to one of undeniable boiling, you had arrived.

Kirishima cleared his throat, sending a quick wink your way as he exited the car first. The first stop was for him to join the lineup to guide you through all the different photo and interview sessions. No one wanted pictures of him emerging from the limo after all.

There's a moment where after Kirishima closes the door, your eyes filled with worry and excitement as he winked goodbye, that things changed. He stood up, his eyes already scanning the area for anything suspicious, when he saw the all too familiar van.

T082-23.

His eyes widened, his head looking around for anyone else, but there was no one to help. No one could do anything as the car continued to drive away, disappearing from Kirishima’s line of sight. His heart hammered in his chest, and his hands instinctively went to his thigh. He had his firearm… he had it.

With nothing but a quick report to the head of security via his com, Kirishima pushed on ahead, waiting for your descent down the red carpet.

When you eventually emerged from the limousine, Kirishima found that at this moment, the entire world faded away as a gloved hand assisted you out of the vehicle. You were elegant, stunning, a realistic vibrant portrait within his world of greys. As you took photos for the cameras, he was by your side a few strides away as you talked to reporters.

You really came to life right now.

You were beautiful.

“For all the pain in the world that she is, she’s quite charming from a distance, huh?” a voice spoke to his side, and Kirishima froze. His eyes widened completely when he noticed that standing beside him was none other than the lawyer.

The lawyer was dressed in a nice suit, glasses perched on his nose, and for the first time Kirishima had seen, the scowl was not quite so hard.

He was here.

Every warning bell sounded in Kirishima’s head.

This was the man he was so sure was the reason behind your every attack. A man fueled by insufficient funding, a need for a new contract that would never be approved without your signature.

“What are you doing here?” Kirishima asked, subtlety never being something he was ever good with. “I’ve never seen you anywhere except to argue with Y/n about contracts. This doesn’t seem like the appropriate time to be discussing it.”

“Kimiko wanted me to give her a new contract proposal to give to y/n. However, to be fair, it’s quite easy for anything to come down to an argument with y/n,” he shrugs, and Kirishima watches a cloud of emotions pass between the man’s eyes. “At least between her and me, we’ve never gotten along, but I suppose that’s how it is for any type of family who works together.”

Wait.

“What?! Family member?!”

“Yes, I know it’s strange to believe. I am quite ugly, and she is not, but we’re family.”

Kirishima’s mind was racing now. It didn’t make sense. If he was family, why would he be in such pursuit of potentially murdering you? If you were family, he was sure that you would help out? If he needed a raise like he thought, wouldn’t you have helped?

There was no way you wouldn’t.

Was he wrong?

Who was it?

“Kiri!” your voice broke into his mind and tore him back to reality. You waved at him, then passed a stuck-out tongue to the lawyer in a teasing fashion. “Let’s go in?”

Kirishima looked over at the lawyer who greeted a woman, who was also walking down the red carpet, a celebrity he could name no less, with a warm kiss.

Oh fuck.

He needed to call Kimiko; he was so very wrong.

You had won two awards so far, and at this very moment, Kirishima was being ushered back to his seat in the audience as you were being escorted to the main stage to perform your latest song. You had removed your gold dress for a black, sleek gown. Your lipstick changed to a dark red, and your hands trembled in the white lace gloves you wore.

“Oh, Kiri,” you wheezed almost, your hands shaking as the announcers on stage were announcing the last awards before your performance. “I’m getting nervous. What if I mess up or sing off-key? I’d be the laughing stock!”

Kirishima laughed gently, his hands easily encompassing your waist as he stilled your frantic moves. “Y/l/n y/n, if there is anything I know for sure about you is that you are one hell of a singer and a performer. The awards you’re nominated for tonight speak for themselves! You never fail at your performances, and even if you somehow manage to sing off-key, I’m sure that no one would notice! Your biggest fan in the world won’t notice, at least.”

Not more than seven days ago, when you had cried about the impending nerves of being an artist, Kirishima had come to claim the title of being your biggest fan in the world. It had made you chuckle through your tears before coming near a hysterical laugh as the two of you held each other close.

“You’re a nut, Kirishima Eijirou,” you laugh, hands resting on his lower ribs, but your smile was bright, warm. You paused a bit, fingers pulling at the fabric of his shirt. “I’ll sing just for you then, but I think I should take another swig of that soju.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Could you tell that Takeyama is completely drunk off her ass?”

“...she’s drunk?!”

“Exactly, I’ll be fine,” you breathe, taking a new smaller flask from the purse Kirishima was holding for you and taking the final swig. Your face contorts at the bitter liquid. “Ew, Kimiko really fucked me over with this one. Why is it blue?! Have you ever seen blue apple soju?!”

“No?” Kirishima startled, his eyes looking at the indeed splash of blue liquid tainting a small part of your gloves. “Who gave you that one? What happened with the other flask of yours?”

“Oh, Kimiko sent it along after I lost my other one; it’s her own flask,” you said before the backstage crew whisked you away to begin your set, and without you, Kirishima was sent to the audience.

Kirishima felt trapped as he was ushered into his seat, his eyes scanning the entire audience for something suspicious, a familiar face perhaps. His broad shoulders continued to bump into his neighbors, their disgruntled noises doing nothing to stop his worry.

“And now, Y/n,” came the strong voice of the male announcer, and the light dimmed.

Kirishima watched as the spotlight came down upon you, a golden halo of colors against your darkened gown as the instrumentals began to play in the background. And he saw you take a step forward, the building motifs suddenly silencing when you finally sang the first note.

Despite the panic arising in Kirishima, the unknown of who was behind it all, what was going to happen, he stilled at the unmatched strength and ambiance of your voice.

You sang as you did at every stage, to every audience.

There was a reason why you were considered a legend.

And then, with one last sound, one last melody, and your hand holding your microphone dropped. Your chest heaving, tears falling down your face, and the roar of the audience was silent. You looked through the audience, unable to see, but for some reason, you just knew where Kirishima was.

You smile.

But as the looming sounds begin to fill your ear again, you find that the world is hazy.

You swallow, eyes unfocused as you bowed, hurrying to leave the stage.

Kirishima watched as you took a final stumbling step off the stage, something he felt was going to be written off as you stepped on your dress. But his mind whirled.

The lawyer felt like a setup; the contracts made no sense, the blue soju.

How were they related?

What connected them?

“Oh, fuck,” Kirishima whispered, horrified, and immediately his finger pressed to his earpiece. “Find Y/n! Now!”

Kirishima was racing through the back of the venue, the announcers' voices still ringing through the dirty, bleak hallways. You had just won but was written off as being somewhere backstage; after all, the show must go on.

Voices screamed in his earpiece, each declining to have found you. No one had seen you after you stepped off the stage. No one knew who had taken you.

Kirishima noticed the doors closing at the end of the hallway, and with a dreading sense of doom, Kirishima removed the gun from his harness. And with the devil on his heels, he ran.

Kirishima panted as he looked before him.

You were passed out, draped limp, confused, and woozy against Kimiko’s body, and two men knocked unconscious beside them. To anyone else, it looked as if Kimiko had saved you, some guardian angel within this world, but if Kirishima’s gut meant anything, he knew better.

“Kirishima-san!’ Kimiko squeaked as Kirishima raised his gun, his body tense, unwilling to take a chance on her. “I don’t know what those two were doing! I was saving her, I swear!”

“Don’t do this, Kimiko,” Kirishima whispered, his head shaking. “I figured it out.”

There was a shift in Kimiko’s face at that; the scared unknowing hero melted into one of anger, resentment, one of someone who knew they had been outed.

“So, you figured it out,” she bitterly spoke, her arms that were supporting you from behind revealing to be a firearm of your own. “I didn’t expect you to.”

“I can’t say I figured out your reasoning; honestly, it doesn’t make sense to me, but I felt like it was you,” Kirishima carefully states, his heart roaring at the implied danger of the firearm against your chin. “Don’t do anything stupid, Kimiko.”

Kimiko stares, her lips forming a small o before changing into one of a large, near unattached grin.

“Anything stupid? If anyone is doing anything stupid, it's this selfish prick!” Kimiko spits, her arms tightening around you, making you whimper ever so gently in pain. “She thinks she’s so great, so rich, so smart! Just because she wastes most of her money on stupid shit like charity! Everyone thinks working for her is a dream, but they’re all blind idiots!”

Kirishima’s eyes widen as he notices the glazed, unfocused of your eyes as you shift your attention over to him. Were you listening?

“What’s wrong with the contract?” he asks, a small attempt to diffuse the situation.

“The fact she pays me next to nothing, and yet she works me half to death!”

“You have multiple clients, don’t you?” Kirishima splutters, unsure as to what was wrong. “Why is this one contract so important you wanted to frame her lawyer?!”

Kimiko laughs; it’s pitchy, almost hysterical as she bends over, your body slumping further onto the floor. “That was a lie! All a fucking lie! Do you know that I knew no one when I first started? Y/n is a name everyone wants. I don’t need to do anything to get her things! The world wants her! But the other clients? None of them stayed, none of them wanted me past a month! The salary was okay when she was a snot-nosed brat, but ten years later?! NO! She won’t fucking listen. She never fucking listens to anything but herself! So she has the option to give me the eighty percent, or fucking die here!”

Suddenly the gun in Kirishima’s hand feels like a ton, the skin on the back of his neck crawling and slicking with sweat.

“You know how much those charities mean to her,” Kirishima whispers. “She won’t do it.”

Kimiko trembles for a second, her arm holding the firearm lowering as she looks at the wall, shaking.

“Oh my god… you’re right,” Kimiko realizes, horror and uncertainty flashing across her face. “I guess… she has to die, oh my god, she has to die.”

At that moment, the world slowed down, and Kirishima swore he could see the atoms, the electricity flowing through the space between them. Kimiko’s arm holding the gun raising back up to your temple, her smile detached, horrific yet gleeful.

His body trembled as he doubted himself, his mind unsure if the finger on the trigger was going to be strong enough to fire away. Could he do it?

Was he ready?

Actually ready?

Save her, his past whispered.

Save her, his nightmares screamed.

Save her, his heart yelled.

Kirishima raised his arm, his focus blaring, his past just for a moment, forgotten.

BANG!

“The effects of the rohypnol have already worn out. Thankfully she wasn’t given a whole pill. If she experiences any nausea or throws up, please bring her back, should anything else happen, she’ll be okay.”

The words of the doctor rang in Kirishima’s ears. For tonight, they were going to be discharging you to him. Thankfully, it was all happening in Tokyo, so Kirishima’s apartment was near, and if Bakugou was true to his word, it was clean.

With the help of hospital security, he had managed to get your tuxedo concealed body into a car, and the two of you rode off to his apartment. You’ve been silent the entire time, eyes downcasted as you sit pressed to his side, feeling like a small child compared to him. You knew that he was much larger than you, a near two feet taller, but this felt unmatched.

Kirishima’s jacket was warm around you, it’s sheer largeness another dress on your body, and despite the horrific turn of events, you were feeling warm. You couldn’t remember much of what transpired after stumbling off stage, but you did remember Kirishima bursting through the doors, a look of anger and fear blistering off his person in such a way that made you whimper when you remembered.

You remembered the onsen basically every night, cursing your stupid makeup team for interrupting a night that definitely would have ended with you fucking Kirishima. You cursed yourself for being a coward and not just saying fuck it and fucking him afterward despite the brief awkwardness.

He wanted you, it was clear as day, and you wanted him as well.

Tonight.

“Sorry about how small my apartment is, or if it’s messy, I don’t actually know if my friends have been keeping up with it,” Kirishima apologized, guiding you into the apartment by the small of your back. “You’ll be safe here tonight, and I promise we can get back to your own place tomorrow!”

“Oh, don’t apologize, it’s okay,” you smile, feeling flushed as you cross the entryway to the apartment. His apartment, despite not being home in so long, is clean. The halls aren’t messy, and a hint of lavender is saturated to the air. The dim hallway lights were barely bright enough to cause you to squint as it was dark out. “Thank you for having me tonight, especially after everything.”

At the hospital, you had been given a pair of sweats and a cotton t-shirt. The change in outfit from your event dress was definitely needed, and even though you were sure your makeup was streaked down your face, you felt good hidden in the depths of Kirishima’s jacket.

“Are you hungry?” Kirishima asked, handing over his guest slippers, which you gratefully accepted. “I might have some microwaveable food leftover.”

“Ramen doesn’t sound too bad,” you admit as Kirishima unbuttons the first few buttons on his white dress shirt. You were instantly captivated by the movement, your eyes shifting back to his face when he began to walk off towards the kitchen.

Kirishima talked warmly, keeping the conversation going merrily and bright throughout the entire time in the kitchen. He undoubtedly knew you weren’t entirely okay, and at moments like this, you were entirely grateful for his sweet personality.

To be fair, you knew that you had been quite unfair to Kirishima in the beginning. Looking back at the first entire month of knowing him, you were horrified and impressed that Kirishima didn’t demand to be dropped. You had been selfish, stubborn, a bottom line brat, and he took it day after day. It wasn’t that you disliked him back then; hell, you had been in a near state of delirium when he entered the door during your first meeting because you had no idea such huge men existed to the caliber of his hotness.

But you resisted and might have been harsher than needed.

It was okay now; after all, if he was genuinely bitter about that entire month still, the onsen said otherwise.

It didn’t take long for your stomach to be filled with warm broth, soft boiled eggs, and ramen noodles. Kirishima did, in fact, have ramen, fresh eggs, and some vegetables. In a grand act of preparing you the most sufficient dinner he could, Kirishima presented this under budget ramen and laughed when you said it was terrific.

But it was growing late.

The two of you still sat at his table that was full of a card game, your empty ramen bowls, and cups of water. The clock on the oven read 23:38, and the city lights were slowly dying.

“Are you ready for bed?” Kirishima eventually asked you.

You looked up from your joined hands; your fingers had been playing with his thick and long fingers for some time now. The apartment grew steadily quieter as you studied and attempted to memorize each callous and scar on his hands. They were definitely marked and nicked, the sign of the warrior he once was.

“Depends on the bed,” you tease, lips rising into a small smile as you compare your much tinier hands than his. Your fingertips barely passed the edge of his palm. “What does a big guy like you sleep in? A twin? Tatami mat?”

Kirishima laughed, his hands twisting in yours, wrapping it around so that he raised your hands up to press a kiss to the center of your palms.

“A futon, brat,” Kirishima explained, his smile small but sharp with his humor. “Let’s get you to bed?”

You frown.

“Where will you be sleeping then?”

“My couch is just fine.”

“I’m sure your stuffing in a trash bag had holes in it.”

“That’s okay,” Kirishima laughed, standing up and quickly taking you to your feet as well. “It’s just for a night, I’ll live.”

Your face warmed immediately as he guided you down the hallway of his apartment before finally coming into what was definitely his room.

Kirishima’s scent was faint in this room, cinnamon, wood, and warm spices. It made your eyes flutter as you observed his room from the entryway as he began to set up the room.

His eye for interior decoration was quite… different. You smiled brightly as you glanced around; the diverse and rather boyish decorations around the room warmed your heart. It seemed exactly like what you would think of for Kirishima.

“Well, that’s all!” Kirishima exclaimed, his hands landing on his hips in triumph as he looked around. “The bathroom is the next door over, and I’ll leave a toothbrush out for you. I also left out a new t-shirt of mine if you want to change!”

You nod some more, watching as Kirishima seems unsure of what to do next. He looks around, coughs a bit before nodding.

“Okay, I’ll be leaving—”

“Um, can we talk?” you interrupt, arms wrapping around your body. “I have some things I want to say.”

“Oh, sure!”

“You can sit,” you say, motioning toward the bed. “I have a few things to get off my chest.”

Kirishima pauses for a bit, his eyes looking you over before he eventually nods, and he sits down. The bed slightly creaks under his weight, and you feel your body warm-up at the sound. You want to hear the bed creak more, to rock under the weight of you and him pressed against the sheets as you cried his name.

“What is it?” he asks gently, observing you.

“I just…” you huff, words failing you, your tongue feeling heavy. “I wanted to say thank you for saving me.”

“It was my job to do that,” Kirishima smiled warmly, his arms crossing again.

He was relaxed.

“I mean, I can’t even begin to believe that it was Kimiko who was behind all that, even though we know it was… I know it was,” you trail off, shivering slightly as you remember your ex-managers demented laugh in your ear. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“Nothing would’ve happened to you,” Kirishima spoke with finality. “I promised to myself at the first meeting I was going to protect you, hell the entire world would. You’re not going to be taken down by pathetic people like that, not you.”

“Really?”

“One hundred percent.”

“I feel like I should repay you in some way, though,” you rub the back of your neck, eyes fluttering just the slightest bit flirtatious. Kirishima looked at you with full mooned eyes, his arms unfolding and his palms resting onto the bedspread.

“You repay me plenty already,” came his whispered answer, so quiet, so pure you almost smiled. “You don’t have to do anything.”

Your tongue pushes past your lip, wetting the drying skin as you take a step toward him. The shoulders of the jacket slowly fall from your own shoulders, pooling just above your elbows as you stop before him, hands resting daintily on his broad shoulders.

“And what if I want something?” you ask, finding yourself stemming with energy as his legs part, allowing you closer access to him.

You step in closer and closer until your outer thighs are ghosting against the inner part of his.

“I think it’s in our contract for me to do everything that you request if I remember correctly,” Kirishima whispers, his bright clear red eyes turning a burnt shade: dark and ever consuming.

“And if I want you to finish what you started over at the onsen?” you press, fingers curling against the muscles of his shoulders before locking behind his neck.

His nose was brushing against yours, cold yet burning against your own skin.

“I’ll gladly show you what I wanted to do that night,” he grunts, eyes deadly, and for the first time, his hands held your waist.

You took a second to recover, your skin sparking with the electricity of his touch, and you suppressed a shiver as you opened your eyes.

“Do it,” you cement your fates, “coward.”

And just like that, in a movement so euphoric, Kirishima’s mouth crashed against yours.

His mouth was hot, dangerous against yours -- a live wire sparking with uncontrollable energy and heat as your mouths danced. Hot puffs of air were passed between your mouths, your fingers shaking with an undeniable release of tension and want.

The kiss was sloppy, desperate, so needy with unspoken frantic determination to fuck each other until the other could no longer move.

Kirishima’s hand removed the jacket from your arms, letting the expensive material fall onto the floor with a heavy thud. Despite the lack of warmth the clothing provided, the feeling of Kirishima’s hands rubbing against your bare arms sent your mind spiraling.

“Get on the bed,” Kirishima commands against your mouth. “Let me fuck you.”

The words were nearly embarrassingly desperate, but the tone of his voice spoke of the absolute domination he wished to assert on you. He wanted you in one exact way, and you had a feeling you knew what it was. But if he had been paying attention, Kirishima should already know that getting you to listen was not easy.

“No,” you grin against his mouth.

Kirishima pulls away instantly, his lips red and swollen as he replays your word in his head. He looks frazzled, absolutely delirious already at the simple, passion-filled makeout. As soon as his eyes clear away the fog, your grin drops, and instead, you look at him with fierce determination and defiance.

“No?” he repeats.

“No,” you confirm.

Your chest feels light, your head spinning as the hands on your waist tighten, and his eyes flash dangerously. The tip of his tongue pushes past his lips before quickly disappearing again.

“Of course, you’re a brat in bed too, such a fucking princess,” Kirishima shakes his head, but his mouth curving into a shark-like grin.

Menacing, promising, sending chilling shivers down your spine.

The world spins faster than you can keep up, your mouth opening to shriek as Kirishima easily lifts you up, and has you lying against his lap.

“I’m going to let you in on a little secret, princess,” Kirishima begins, his large fingers hooking into the waistband of the sweats you have on and the panties you’re wearing. “My princess gets rewards for being good. If she can behave properly, she gets to be fucked with dick, her pussy gets to be fucked just the way she pleases.”

You can’t help but stifle a moan that threatens to spill out with his words and the way his hands move down the curve of your ass, exposing the naked skin to him. The waistband of both your panties and sweats stay high up your thighs, and it’s almost embarrassing to know you’re still so clothed despite what’s to come.

“And just what does the Sergeant do to bad girls?” you ask, unable to keep your tongue down, your hips rolling against his lap in undeserved friction.

Unexpectedly, abruptly, a hand comes down harshly onto your bare ass.

The contact is rough, stinging against your ass as you cry out in slight pain.

The hand not currently rubbing a warning circle into your ass twists the hair at the top of your head, lifting your head up so that your ear could near his mouth.

“Bad girls get punishments. They get what I want to give them. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Holy shit,” you whimper, heat flaring between your thighs at the thought of Kirishima doing anything to you regardless of if you were good or bad. You rut your ass back against his hand, longing for a heavier touch, a plea for something more.

“What does the princess want?”

“Nothing,” you bite, and the crashing smack of another spank has you moaning loudly at the stinging pleasure-filled pain.

“You moaning like a whore at a simple spank says otherwise,” Kirishima chuckles darkly, his fingers pinching your stinging ass as your body bucks against him. He spanks you again, again, and again. Each slap is intentful, powerful, wanting to get you to admit what you want, and you cry against your hands each time, your eyes fluttering as the pain feels good.

“Of course, a slut like you would be getting off on this,” Kirishima seems amused, his thick finger pressing to the slit of your cunt, spreading your dripping essence against your cunt. He presses against your entrance with just the tip of his finger, and you shriek in a sound for more, your hips jerking backward to get his finger into you, to fuck you with those thick fingers to do something about the growing desperate heat.

“Kirishima!” you scream, your body sweating and twisting on his lap, desperate to find some way to get him to finger fuck you.

“Ah, there we go,” he sighs in delight as his fingers swirl at your entrance, increasing the teasing and making your mind spin. “Tell me what you want, brat.”

“You!” you wail, two of his fingers carting between your wet, sloppy heated lips. They graze your clit, stimulating you further as you can do nothing but instinctively jerk against his hold, trying to get him to give you the needed pleasure to build up to an orgasm. “I want you to fuck me so good! Please, Sergeant, please, I want you to fuck me until I can’t remember anything but your name.”

“But you haven’t proven to be a good princess,” Kirishima tuts, his hands disappearing from your pussy despite your crying pleas. His hand grabs your ass, though, massaging the abused skin, grasping it tightly.

You moan, embarrassed at the sensation of his massive hand easily cupping your ass cheek, your fingers fisting into the fabric of his pants as you shake your head.

“Are you going to prove that you’re good?” he asks you, his tone like that of a parent chastising a child. “Gonna prove to me that you can be good?”

You shake pathetically against his legs, but you can’t keep yourself from shaking your head. You can’t prove to him that you would be.

“I can’t!” you whimper loudly, your body twisting on his lap to look up at him, your eyes filled with tears and pleading need. Kirishima looked down at you with lust filled eyes and an undeniable need to be followed.

“You can’t?” he repeats, his head tilting, eyes narrowing, and his fingers dug into your ass. “Or you won’t?”

You tremble on top of him, unable to answer because you weren’t ready to hand over the reins just yet. You didn’t want to submit so fast, you wanted to make his own head dizzy with need but the stubbornness to continue punishing you the way he was promising.

“I won’t,” you gasp, eyes fluttering at the way he finally drops your head.

You gasp loudly as you find him shoving you off his lap, and with your panties and sweats sitting so awkwardly high on your legs, you find yourself tumbling off his lap and onto the floor.

“Guess if you don’t want to behave, I’ll treat you like some fucking pussy pocket and dispose of you once I’m done,” Kirishima easily breathes, and you look up at the now standing man as he tears his shirt off.

Your mouth waters, your cunt throbbing at the sight of the rippling muscles and dark lines of his tattoos on his upper body. You watch fascinated, like one does to a masterpiece, as he undresses until he’s in nothing but his socks. And at the sight of his dick, you can feel at once all the blood in your flushed face drop directly into your throbbing cunt.

He was fucking enormous, his girth barely fitting into his hand, and the angry red head spilled its precum against his abs. A black happy trail connecting Kirishima’s abs to his vein throbbing cock.

Holy fuck, he could quickly kill you with that.

Kirishima doesn’t ask any questions as he watches your awkwardly dressed state of a body on the floor. His head is tilted upwards, a small pleased smile on his face as he looks down on you, his hand slowly, leisurely fisting his cock as you can do nothing but stare.

You make some insane noise at the back of your throat at this sight, your thighs trembling with need, and you're pushing off your side, your ass burning, and your balance off as you open your mouth, offering all you could to him.

And thankfully, Kirishima allows it.

He’s much too tall for you to suck him off on your knees, so he sits back down onto the bed, letting you scamper between his legs, mouth open wide like some needy pet.

“Such a good little slut,” Kirishima sighs, sinking his cock into your wet, hot mouth. “Such a fucking cockwhore, all it took was a single glance for you to lose your will.”

You whine against his dick, your jaw tight with the stretch, your tongue lapping so desperately around the cock that was no more than halfway in yet couldn’t go in any further.

“Suck me right, and I’ll reward you by fucking that pretty little pussy of yours,” Kirishima grunts, his fingers pressing into the side of your neck as he ruts his hips up into your mouth, shoving his cock even further into your mouth. “And don’t you dare look away from me while you suck me off.”

It feels like fire.

His cock driving down your throat hurts, the taste of his salty pre-cum slathering all over your tongue and dripping out of your mouth with the saliva you can’t control. His cock hits the back of your throat, and you continue to bob your head, continue to fuck him with your throat as animalistic, praiseworthy noises begin spilling from Kirishima’s mouth.

You whimper at the sight of his head dipping back, and you nearly whine when he shoves the fingers he had gathered your juices on into his mouth. He moans at the contact and with his pleasure with your actions so obvious as you choke against his girth. That was hot, holy fuck, you wanted him to fuck you, please fuck you.

Your eyes close as he begins to fuck faster into your mouth, his delight in hearing you choke around him his driving force. Tears start pouring from your eyes despite your best efforts, your throat and inner thighs burning with lust and need as Kirishima groans, his cock twitching deep in your throat.

Slap!

“Hey!”

Slap!

You gag harshly as your cheeks sting with his heavy slap, your teeth grazing underneath his cock, right against a thick, twisting vein.

“Did I tell you to close your eyes?” Kirishima practically growls, his hands grasping the back of your neck, the other one slapping you across the face yet again. “No. I said… fuck… I said, keep your eyes on me!”

Tears weep down your face, your eyes struggling to keep focus on him as he continued to fuck deep and intensely into your mouth, shoving himself further into you until you could feel his thighs grazing your chin. Oxygen wasn’t flowing anymore; your gags and chokes the only time the burning element could manage to flow through you, but Kirishima doesn’t seem to care. He seems to delight in the way you are, despite it all, are moaning and looking at him in a pleading way for more.

More, you plead.

And he delivers.

Kirishima pulls his still hard, not yet cummed, dick out of your mouth and stands.

You splutter with the sudden intake of oxygen to your lungs, burning you from the inside out as you splutter on the ground.

“W-What’s going on?” you hoarsely stammer, your jaw and throat aching from its prolonged abuse. “E-Ei?”

However, Kirishima seems dead set on getting you naked, and you squeal in flustered excitement as he rips the shirt off of you and his mouth pressing against yours again. His mouth crashes against yours, and you moan into his mouth immediately.

His tongue curls into your mouth and your tongues press and rub against each other. Each passing second growing more desperate, needier, more intense as your clothes are ripped one by one off your body.

“Holy fuck, I’ve wanted you for so long,” Kirishima nearly whines, his mouth trailing down your neck, biting and sucking against every centimeter of skin he passed. “Wanted to fuck you against the wall, in my bed, and now I get to do that.”

“Please, please, fuck me, please,” you beg, your voice bordering a wail as your arms wrap around his neck, letting him lift you up off the floor. Despite you being so much smaller than him that when he held you to him, your cunt wasn’t pressed to his angry leaking cock, you continued to desperately roll your hips against his abs, the friction welcomed and easing the building pressure. It was an action conveying just what you wanted. “I need you in me, Sergeant!”

“Just cuz… holy fuck,” Kirishima breathes ragged, his body twisting around, and you cried when the cold sheets pressed into your back. “Imma fuck you, Imma… god, just fucking watch.”

Your head thrashed back onto the pillow as Kirishima’s teeth sunk into your collarbone, then captured your sensitive nipples, his fingers dancing against your clit and teasing your center.

“Now!” you cry, fingers digging into his shoulder. “Put it in!”

This time, Kirishima didn’t need to be told twice.

His larger body was suddenly pressed entirely against yours, dwarfing you immediately as your arms wrapped around his back as his cock slammed into you. You screamed at the sudden intrusion, your pussy stretched beyond its typical limits by his girth, his size, his power.

Your cunt throbbed around him, your face buried within his pecs as you, despite the searing pain, shove your hips up towards him. Fucking into him, sucking him further into you.

“Holy shit,” Kirishima groans, “you’re amazing.”

“Talk less, fuck me more!” you screech, your body spasming, twitching so hard from the splitting pleasure and the lava pit in your stomach, and Kirishima does that exactly.

His hips begin to meet yours in equaled power, slamming into you so that the bed creaked beneath you. He fucked you until he had to hold a hand on your hip so you could stay there, and you kept a hand on the wall to continue to push yourself down onto his cock.

You screamed with pleasure, cried for more, Kirishima’s shark-like smirk getting bolder, darker, hotter with every slam of his hips until his tattooed right arm shot down. His hand wrapped around your throat, choking you.

“You’re so loud, princess,” Kirishima moans, clearly liking your loud noises, “but you’re going to wake everyone in Tokyo.”

His hand around your throat is enough to have your legs trembling around his waist, your choked and muffled moans and splutters drowning out even more as he pressed a kiss onto you. He kissed you, licking your mouth, and devouring your every word and thought. Your core twisted, tightened, and burned. It throbbed and clenched with it’s impending orgasm, and your body began to tense to the heavens as his cock throbbed deep within you.

“Who saved you?”

“E-Ei did,” you garble.

“Who’s fucking you?”

“E-Ei is!”

“Who’s going to fucking cum when I tell her to?”

“Me! Fuck, me!”

Kirishima laughs, his arms wrapping around your waist, and in one final, fleeting burst of strength, fucks into you with his own power, needs, and desire, and you can only take it. “Cum, princess,” he whispered almost sweetly against the top of your head, and it was all over. Your teeth sink into his chest as you scream, a blinding white light erupting through your vision as you cum around his cock.

Kirishima whimpers, his cock still pushing deep into your cunt, until you can feel the warm spill of his seed in your womb.

He collapses to the side of you, taking you with him so that you were resting on his sweaty chest.

“Holy shit,” Kirishima whispered after a bit, your body already warm and too lethargic to notice the star-like tone to his voice. “That was fucking… holy shit.”

“Does this mean you like me?” you half tease, half wonder.

There’s a pause, a silence, and you wonder if maybe he had fallen asleep.

But he didn’t.

“I’ve been in love with you for some time now, I think,” he admits, his hand beginning to rub small circles into your back.

You find that despite the exhaustion, warmth floods your cheeks.

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I guess we’re going to have to discuss a more… permanent and maybe different contract tomorrow morning, huh?”

Kirishima chuckles, and you find yourself smiling into his chest.

“I think we do.”

#kirishima x reader #kirishima smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha

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kiridarling · 3 years

Text

𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓.

request | Can I have royalty au (soon to be king bakugou) (and soon to be queen reader) , katsuki and reader are supposed to be getting married (not to eachother) but they end up sneaking around and doing IT with eachother so top!kats , exhibition , begging , dumbification and spanking THANK YOU💞💞

this lovely request was submitted for the kissing booth event (the rest of the drabbles come out soon, ahem :)) so, if this was your request, um...hAHA whoops.

katsuki bakugou | f!reader, royalty!au, infidelity, nondescript!fiancés, angst (gasp), fingering, exhibitionism, dumbification + more! minors dni!

— 3.7k words

“C'mon, princess...can I make you feel good once last time?

You're getting married.

No more ignorance is bliss, no more I didn't know any better—this is when you put all your childish antics to the side and fucking woman up, now in charge of the safety of your kingdom and its inhabitants and whatnot. So yes, you must snuff all your adolescent tendencies, and that includes sleeping with the Crowned Prince of the neighboring kingdom behind your fiancé's backs.

But, boys are stubborn. And stupid.

Ding ding ding!

"Excuse me, Everyone!" Your fiancé announces to the crowd in your dining room as he stumbles to his feet, spoon clinking against his glass. He nearly trips, but no one sees except yourself. "I would like to make a toast."

You frown. This wasn't a part of the rehearsal dinner.

"First of all, I would like to thank you all for being able to be with us tonight," he says, shoving the glass higher in the air. As red wine splashes over the rim, you think to remind him that isn't a toast, it's the beginning of a speech, but your comments have rarely deterred the man in the past. "As you’re all aware, this marriage is vital. Not only for our kingdom, but for the neighboring kingdom as well."

Your fiancé regards the Bakugou’s with a lift of his chalice. In the coming weeks, two arranged marriages will melt the four most influential kingdoms into two, and your fiancé and his family had the genius to throw a massive Gala to celebrate it. You wouldn’t be surprised if they got off to the idea of stretching themselves so thin their hair falls out at age thirty; they won’t even allow you to choose the type of dress for your wedding.

"I would also like to thank my lovely, lovely wife, for just being so... lovely.” Your fiancé chuckles, accompanied by an uncomfortable massage to your shoulder. The guests find amusement in how whipped he is as he gazes your way expectantly, conceivably wishing to see you swoon at the compliment. All you give him is a blank face. His elation falters.

"You know, when I first met this woman, I knew she was going to be the love of my life," your fiancé shakes your glare off. You purposely block out the rest of his story in favor of folding and unfolding your napkin again, puffing under your breath at the cheesy comment.

"Sap," you grunt to yourself, obviously. You don't expect anyone to hear, but there's a snort to your right. Your eyes lift from your lap—and straight into Katsuki's smug blood red ones. He winks at you from across the table and your eyes roll at that, though there's a small smile playing on your face that's impossible to hide.

"Isn't that right [Y/N]!...[Y/N]?"

You blink yourself back to life, eyes reluctantly leaving Katuski's hypnotic ones for the pair that make you nauseous, "Oh—u-um, yep!"

The place bursts in laughter and there's even a little smile dancing on Katsuki's face. He catches you staring so your eyes divert to your lap, but his remain a physical force against you for the rest of the night.

*selene — the greek goddess of the moon

The balcony is much nicer than the ballroom.

For one, it's the farthest place you could have gone from the commotion, all the way on the opposite side of the castle. It's a solid five-minute walk when you aren't in heels and a heavy petticoat, but it provides a lovely view of your front yard, subjecting you to watch the early-sleepers leave in their carriages to call it a night. Meanwhile, *Selene watches you from her telescope the moon with a sigh and a sad smile, because she's the only one who knows how completely and utterly alone you will be.

You glare at her—the goddess doesn't waver.

Bitch.

It's no secret that Gala’s like these get overwhelming—especially when you're the center of attention. You see Lord Shinsou (Earl) stuff the eager Lord Kaminari (Baron) into his silver-plated carriage before looking around to ensure no one saw, and blanche upon seeing your figure stood on the balcony. You salute so he knows his secret is safe with you, and relief washes over his face before he too hops into the carriage. What a scandal, you giggle.

Plenty of couples resign home after that; it makes you uneasy. You're unsure as to why, but you have the ever-increasing urge to nip at your fingernails until you don't have them anymore, and jamming the sharpest point of your heel into the concrete seems like the only proper way to release enough kinetic energy before you explode.

"He loves me."

He does, embarrassingly so—so what's the issue?

There isn't an issue; there shouldn't be. He reminds you how pretty you are and you compliment his influence. Neither of you are marrying down. You look good together. The kingdom's future power couple if you will, where you two supposedly mold the great future in your peculiarly young hands. There isn't an issue. You're the one for him, and he's the one for you.

The balcony door whines open. You don't turn around, praying whoever it is will see that it's occupied and turn the other cheek. Yet, the stomp of whoever's boots only grow louder until you’re adjacent to a shadow of a being, his chin lifted towards the stars. You catch a glimpse of blond hair, though dyed a pale white by the silver moon, and you two stand in a strangely comfortable silence, watching carriages roll out of your driveway.

The silence doesn’t last for long, though. It never does.

"D’ya always go disappearing like that?"

You frown. "What?"

"I don't fuckin' know," Katsuki grumbles—he has yet to look at you. Seems like Selene captures more than one person's attention tonight. "Blinked and you were gone."

Your frown only deepens, and you return your attention to the courtyard. "I didn't know you were paying attention."

The ash-blond presses his forearms against the railing for support. "I wasn't. He was."

Oh.

"Said he wants you to come back, so," Katsuki clicks his tongue, carmine red eyes finally flicking your way through the darkness. You don’t dare look at him. “You run off often, or what?"

"Tell him I'll come back in a second," you sigh, balancing your face in your hand. Katsuki says nothing, but he doesn't leave, and you hate that you don't mind.

Until he points towards a couple crossing the lawn and says, "Oi, that's the Duke from my fiancé's kingdom. Fucker tried to poison my dad for the throne—straightened him out real quick.”

"Why are you talking to me?" You snap like a cornered animal. Katsuki lifts an eyebrow.

"What? I can't have a goddamn conversation?"

"I—" your chest rises and falls with a reason to why he can't, but you can only come up with one—and you don't want to think about it.

"Listen. I don't like these things either, alright?" He huffs defensively, so defensively that you have to take a step back. "If I have the opportunity to get some fresh air, I'm gonna fuckin' take it."

You shrug, supposing it makes you one and the same. The wind blows, not harsh, but harsh enough to ruffle your gown, and make the gold jewelry decorating Katsuki's tunic jingle.

“So. I guess this is it, ain’t it?”

You sigh, “Katsuki, you know we—“

"Yeah yeah, that's all you fuckin' say," he growls bitterly, and you blink in a poor attempt to find where the animosity came from. His face twists in an ugly way as he sits his hands on his hips, nose scrunched to mockingly pitch his voice that doesn't sound like yours at all. "We can't, we shouldn't—"

"Because we shouldn't!" You nearly shout, and Katsuki jumps from how quickly you raise your voice. "Because—because if we get caught, we're fucked. And I can't go to sleep terrified that I'll wake up to an exposé tomorrow morning and get beheaded by the afternoon. So...please. Just stop."

Katsuki clicks his tongue.

"You don't love that asshole."

Your throat feels tight—much too tight to be comfortable, and your chest rises and falls with disbelief as you search for the words before you can talk again, eyes never dropping from the stars. You've had this conversation, fuck, you have it too often; often enough to know that he would say those exact words, and enough to know precisely what you'll say in response.

"I love him, Katsuki."

"No, no you fuckin' don't," the ash-blond chucks a laugh and it's nothing short of acrid, his words eating away at your skin more than you'd like them to. You sigh, resting your forearms on the railing too.

"I'm not having this conversation with you."

"Always gotta be so goddamn emotionally unavailable, huh?" He growls, glare set on the mountains presented in front of you. You feel his suit jacket hit your freezing shoulders, unaware of the cool temperatures until you feel the cloth brush against goosebumps. It’s your turn to laugh bitterly.

“Careful. People might think we’re getting married to each other.”

“One day you’ll let me fuckin’ live,” he grunts, and your eyes meet for the first time. His usual red is dyed a deep purple by the moonlight, their usual hardness traded for something much softer. “Can’t even give you a jacket when you’re shivering like a goddamn leaf in the wind.”

You give him a look of utter exhaustion because you’re tired—tired of all this running around and hiding, the secrecy. It eats at your insides like a caterpillar does a leaf, knowing that you go to sleep every night to a man who’ll barely touch you, but at the same time, feeling guilty that you don’t need nor want him to.

“Why are you here?”

Katsuki clicks his tongue. His warm body settles behind yours, close enough to feel the warmth but not close enough to feel him. “You looked lonely.”

“I thought my fiancé told you to get me?” You ask, raising a suspicious eyebrow. Katsuki rolls his eyes, his arms settling on both sides of yours.

“He did. But I didn’t refuse the damn request either.”

“You saw my loneliness all the way from the ballroom. What an eyesight,” you scoff. Katsuki’s eyes narrow, but it’s clear he’s fighting a grin because you’re a little shit who loves giving him a hard time. The ash-blond’s chest rises and falls, and he bites the inside of his cheek.

“You know what I mean.”

You snort, tilting your head to the right. You suppose you do.

“And I’m marrying a bitch,” he adds to his list of grievances, his hands finding yours to gently play with your fingers. You nod in agreement. A bitch she is.

“And...I’m really going to fuckin’ miss you.”

It might as well pass for nothing but a breath, eyes trained on your held hands. His chest suspends like he has more to say, but his teeth tear at the inside of his cheek before he can. “I—fuck, I get it, okay? I’m a selfish asshole—“

“This doesn’t have to do wit—“

“And I really, really need to get my fuckin’ priorities straight. I mean, they are, just not in the way they should be.”

“Hey,” you chastise, shaking his hands for his attention. “You can’t control who you love, okay?"

Katsuki grumbles at that but you refuse, turning around to look him in the eyes.

"And neither can I.”

You let go of his hands in favor of pulling him down via his cheeks and giving him a big fat kiss on the lips. It’s peckish and brief, but it’s sweet and gets your point across. It's comfortable.

“The hell was that for?” Katsuki asks once you pull away. Though you see him struggle to hide a grin, eyes squinting more than they should.

“Easy,” you say, stepping forwards (as if there’s any space for that), “You looked lonely.”

Katsuki snorts, dropping his head, “Bastard.”

“And I’m being married off to an asshole,” you lament, pulling his face so close to the point you’re sure the strain on his back has got to be anything but sexy. He accommodates anyways—Katsuki always has; and night seems to suspend along with his baited breath as he waits for the next line, eyes shining with a painful hope you’re about to confirm.

“And I’m really, really going to miss you,” you say, shaking your head at how utterly true that statement is. Fuck.

The vulnerability slowly fades from his eyes at that, and Katsuki hums, clammy hands finding their rightful place around your hips.

“You shouldn’t call him an asshole, you know,” he says, face inching so close you can smell the champagne on his breath. “He means well.”

“I didn’t know you cared,” you quip back, raising an eyebrow. Katsuki shrugs, and you don’t realize he’s backing you up until your back kisses the cool railing.

“Well. I can’t help but feel a little bad,” he says cheekily as he inches closer, “‘Cause I make you feel so good, don’t I, Princess? Last time I checked, better than he ever could.”

You scoff at his audacity though it’s all good-natured, eyes preferring the moon over his heated gaze as he turns you around to face the courtyard.

“Ah, ah,” he tuts, redirecting your attention using a finger on your jaw, “Eyes on me, Princess. You look really fuckin’ pretty under the stars, y’know.”

You snort at the compliment, rolling your eyes.

“‘M serious. A fuckin’ goddess,” he growls, leaving wet kisses up the column of your neck. Your breath hitches as he reaches your sweet spot and sucks, and you’re swatting him away before he can leave a mark.

“I sai—“

“One last time, Princess,” he bargains lowly as his hot hands slide their way from your waist to your breasts, taking their sweet time. Katsuki hooks his chin on your shoulder. “Lemme—Can I make you feel good one last time?”

You’re nodding with a whimper before you can berate yourself for being so fucking easy, the thought of not being able to indulge yourself with this, with him, any longer tosses any and all resistance out the window.

“Good,” Katsuki hums, tweaking your nipples through the bodice. “‘M gonna pay you back for being so good to me, yeah? For puttin' up with all my shit."

You scoff, mouth dropping to tell him you weren't putting up with his shit, but then a warm hand lands on your thigh—somehow, he's found a way under your dress. The hand slides up inner thigh and you feel Katsuki's chest shudder against your back as he finally reaches where you need him most.

"K-Kats—"

"Shhh, you don't want them to hear us, do you?" He grunts, pulling your panties to the side. You shiver from the change in temperature, watching another Duke and Duchess of half-drunkenly stumble into their carriages for the night, before there's a crack of a whip and hooves beat towards the exit. It's only a reminder of how painfully exposed you two are—one glance towards the balcony and any onlooker would know exactly what's happening. You hate it.

You hate that you don't.

"Atta girl," Katsuki purrs, groaning as he inserts a finger. You shiver, the weight of his being practically trapping you against the railing. "Always so fuckin' tight. I swear that asshole never fucks you right."

Katsuki's never been an impatient man and fills you with a second finger awfully fast, chuckling when you bite into the meat of your palm to hold back a whimper. His hips start to grind against the puff of your dress and he groans as quietly as he can, carelessly shoving down the sleeve of his suit jacket to bite into your shoulder.

You let out a broken moan much too loud for this time of night and it prompts Katsuki's free hand to stuff an equal amount of fingers into your mouth. "Y'know, something tells me you wanna get caught. You want the whole world to know how much you fuckin' hate that bastard, huh?"

You choke as Katsuki slides in a third digit next to the second, the slap of his palm against your pussy becoming nothing but obscene as your slick accentuates the sound. His hips speed up against your ass and that's enough friction to have the ash-blond groaning, along with the spit that drips down his forearm.

"So dirty for me, Princess," his hips stutter when you push back, tongue laving over the bite mark you'll probably have to conceal in the morning. Asshole. "You wanna cum like this, don't you? You're gonna cum all over my fingers in front of the entire royal court. Dumb little girl, can't even keep her mouth shut to keep us from gettin' caught."

You jam your heel into the balcony concrete so hard you positive it cracks before you're coming all over Katsuki's fingers, nearly choking on the ones in your mouth as you release the loudest broken moan you have that night. Katsuki's hips stutter against you and you're positive he's filling his boxers from the airy moan that follows, and his hand goes limp in your mouth before it slides out completely.

Your chests balloon in unison, his body draped over yours, and as you two catch your breath under the moonlight, you can’t help but think how much you’re going to miss this.

"Run away with me."

"I—" he does this. He always does this. He makes you feel on top of the world, acting like everything's fine, and then he pulls this shit on you. You look everywhere but him, nearly scoffing in disbelief. "Katsuki—"

"C'mon, Princess," Katsuki scrambles to flip you by the waist until your back is flush against the railing again and he’s cradling both your hands in his semi-damp ones. There’s a look in his eyes you don’t like, and it makes your chest burn. "Across the sea, people are movin’ over there and I—I know someone there, okay? Someone we could stay with, maybe help us get back on our feet an-and I found a fuckin’ ferry guy to take us across, and I can even pay him a little extra, o-or you, or—"

"Katsuki," you give him a sad smile, squeezing his hands tight. There's hope, too much hope in his eyes and it's fucking blinding. "Running away? I—this is—we have an obligation, we can't jus—"

"It'll be fine," he insists, stepping forwards and squeezing you back twice as hard. You sigh."I—the two kingdoms can merge or whatever the fuck they wanna do and then we'll be—"

"Katsuki."

"I—fuck Princess, I don't beg but goddammit, I'll do whatever you fuckin' want, get on my knees, I ca—"

"You really want to know what I want?"

Katsuki freezes. It's the first time you've ever seen some semblance of emotion in him that isn't anger or lust, with carmine red irises swimming in unshed tears—and fuck, you hate the sight. You want to shoot yourself in the fucking foot for what you’re about to do, but it’s for the best. It always is.

"Love her."

Katsuki looks at you, and his face drops, chest shuddering.

"I can't."

You drop his hands in favor of holding his face, thumbing at the hot tears running as they fall. God, Katsuki’s pretty—too pretty for his own good and he doesn’t even know it. His unsteady hands find themselves massaging your ribs and your foreheads knock together. "You need to try. Love her as much as you love me, yeah?"

"'S fuckin' impossible," Katsuki says with a wet snort, shaking his head with eyebrows raised. You giggle, throat impossibly tight.

"Almost, then? For me."

Katsuki’s red eyes stare at you through the darkness. You have half a mind to look the other way, but you figure you owe him this if nothing else, and as he lovingly absorbs your being under the moonlight for the last time, you really wish you could take your words back.

"I'll...fuck. Fine. I'll try." Katsuki resigns with a shrug, shaking his head. You two sniffle in unison and you suppress the strange urge to pinch him. "'M not gonna try to get over you, though. Sorry, not sorry."

You roll your eyes at that but it's all good-natured, followed by a choke you struggle to hide as his arms coil around your waist, "Then I won't either."

A genuine grin spreads across his face, and it’s borderline giddy—and a stark contrast against the waterworks. "She finally fuckin' admits it."

"Figured it was about time," you give him a wobbly smile before your eyes flicker to his, red blurring from being so close. Selene looks upon both of you with a reminiscent sigh.

"I love you, Katsuki Bakugou."

Katsuki sniffs before he laughs; it's wet, and near bitter, and he pulls you so close your face nearly shoves into his chest. "Fuck. Fuck, you're an asshole, you know that?"

"This is when you say it back," you bargain, squishing his cheeks. Katsuki presses his forehead deeper into yours.

"I love you too, Asshole."

He speaks with a softness you've never heard and it's like a gunshot to the heart, and as his lips inch closer to yours as your hands slide to thumb at his ears. One last kiss wouldn't hurt, would it?

Until there's a whistle and the click of footsteps. You and Katsuki jump a mile apart.

"Oh, [Y/N]! You're still out here in the cold?" Your fiancé asks with a raised eyebrow, but it seems like that's only an afterthought as he turns to Katsuki to say, "Your wife’s found the alcohol."

"Great," the ash-blond groans, understanding the translation—your fiancé is piss drunk in the ballroom.

"I do recommend you take her home. She's making quite a mess of the eclairs. And her face."

Katsuki heads inside without giving you a second glance, and your fiancé gives him a solid pat on the way in before turning to you halfway through the doorway, "Are you coming inside, Darling?"

"In a moment," you say with a smile. Your hand never leaves the railing. "Just getting some fresh air."

"Alrighty, then. I'll be in the bedroom. Waiting~" he winks, and with that, he's spinning on his heel, and you're alone with the moon again.

You watch Katsuki guide his inebriated fiancé into the carriage lovingly, with a smile on his face that isn't quite the one he wears with you but close enough, whispering whatever pleases her at the time with a chaste kiss on the cheek. You feel comfort in knowing that he has someone to love and someone to be loved by. He doesn't look your way—not once.

It's not until they drive away that you realize you still have his suit jacket draped over your shoulders. You don't doubt he did that on purpose, either.

Asshole.

#— 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈 #bakugou smut #mha smut #bnha smut

679 notes · View notes

shorkbrian · 3 years

Note

How about some barbarian bakugo noncon?

Prelude - One time I came home from a walk and smelled this scent so freaking thick that I could taste it, and I almost threw up cause it smelled like skinning a deer but like, ten times worse?? and I was like lol that’s kinda weird and it turns out the neighbor had caught a skunk in a catch-and-release trap (which we gave him cause we didn’t want him catching a skunk in a trap that’d kill it) and apparently decided to kill it right then and there, and just let it by the edge of his property, right by my car. That was fun.

Anyways, Katsuki makes a big deal about reader looking different in this. You can take that any way you’d like. Personally, I was feeling insecure about my freckles (I have so many that my skin almost looks even-toned because they almost all touch rip) and my hair color/odd face so I wrote him liking that reader looked different. It’s not super deep lol

Pairing - Bakugou Katsuki X Reader X slight Izuku Midoriya

Warnings - NSFW, dubcon, noncon, voyerisum, exhibistionism, blood mention lol. Idk groping?

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/4FeWr4OsidcJClBjUEBHWI?si=OPHwLWXrTsiNQ42SlMKLEg

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There is a point where you stop screaming.

A point when you realize that no one is coming to save you, that you’re wasting your breath, that it’s fruitless. Does nothing more than raw your throat and grate against your own ears.

It’s no use. The Barbarian King seems unaffected, perhaps even spurred on by your ear-splitting screams. There’s no reason to scream anymore - it’d be impossible to scream forever.

——

Village in flames, corpses littering the streets. You’d heard about the stench of death from books, from traveling warriors who stop in your village for a night, regaling the people with tales of heroics and strength. It smelled quite different from what you had imagined though.

Metallic, yes, but tangy, thick enough for you to taste the iron seeping into the ground. Raw, like the scent of the butcher’s shop, heavy and suffocating - you hadn’t been able to breathe.

Everything had happened so fast, too fast. People were dead, people were dying, people were killing and being killed. You had been running, trying to escape the stifling aroma of your village being drained, the barbarians running amok through the streets leeching out it’s lifeblood.

Then you had been falling, tripped up by a loose limb on the ground, a body still warm and rattling with it’s last breaths. Shocked by the vivid image of the gore underneath you, a man reaching for his severed arm, you hadn’t been able to catch yourself as you fell, a cry leaving your lips.

Darkness.

And then light as you slowly blinked to awareness, slumped on the ground. A line of prisoners, prizes from the raid. You were one of them, hands bound to your neck, ankles tied to the people on either side of you. Two men had come by after a while, a green haired man in dress similar to your own - perhaps a captured man from the village?

The other man was bare chested, as many of the barbarians were, gold and red paint swirled across his skin in intricate, sharp patterns. He looked fearsome, and he barked at the green haired man accompanying him who scribbled furiously onto paper at each utterance of the fearsome blonde man.

They seemed to be going down the lengthy line of prisoners, assigning them? Selecting them for something? You didn’t know, couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You were numb, sealed off from the horrific event you had just experienced, safe within your cocoon of forced apathy.

And then the two men were in front of you, the blonde man silent as he stared you down, the green haired man with his pen poised, though he studied you also.

But they quickly moved on, the barbarian barking something at his companion, before striding to the next prisoner.

You had been untied from your fellow captives, led through the barbarian camp. Red tents, warm fires and laughter filled the space, bare-chested warriors of both genders celebrating their recent victory.

The large red tent you had been led to was warm, a fire crackling in the deep pit in the center, silky furs softening the harshness of the ground. There was a table in front of the fire, a large basin filled with water nearby, close to the fire. A desk in the corner, near the tent flap, and a folding screen hiding the back of the tent from view.

Promptly tied to the leg of a table, you were left alone, the woman who had dragged you here leaving before you could ask what was happening.

Shortly, green hair popped through the tent flap, quickly followed by the rest of the man from earlier, the one dressed like your people.

“Izuku Midoriya!” He had introduced himself, giving a little flourish as he bowed, before being pushed aside as the fearsome blonde from before entered the tent.

Still tied to the leg of the table, numb to the world, you merely stared at the ground when the two men approached.

“What’s your name?” The green haired man - Izuku - asked.

He was met with a blank stare.

The blonde man growled at your lack of answer, spitting something in his native tongue, words you didn’t understand. Izuku seemed to shrink, before turning to address you again.

“Please tell us your name. Kacchan is not the most patient man.”

The fearsome man beside him bared his teeth towards you, and you shrank back. He did not seem the type of person who tolerated being left waiting.

“(Y/N)….” You whispered, eyes falling to the ground.

“(Y/N), ah! Such an interesting name, the first part means-“ Izuku was cut off from his ramble with a shove from the blond man - Kacchan - who crouched down in front of you, rolling your name around his tongue.

Turning, he spoke to Izuku in the same jumbled language, who listened, then addressed you as Kacchan turned back to study you again.

“Kacchan would like to know uhm, uuh.....” Izuku trailed off, uncertain eyes flickering between you and the blonde.

Kacchan scoffed, listening to Izuku’s hesitancy with disdain, saying something directed at the younger man, yet Kacchan’s eyes were fixed on you the entire time. It was intimidating.

“He uh, wants to know ifyou’reavirgin.”

Oh god.

Even though the man’s words were rushed, you understood, limbs beginning to shake. You were going to be violated.

A finger poking your calf made you jump, the blonde man leering at you, head cocked to the side, eyebrow raised as if to say “Well?”

You shook your head - lovers had existed in your life, not many, but you still cherished each one deeply, thought back on the experiences you shared fondly.

When relayed this information, the blonde man seemed to grin even wider, rising to his feet. “This will be easier then, no need to go slow.”

With a gasp, you lifted your gaze, wide eyes taking in the man hovering above you. His words were completely forgotten as you took in the shock of understanding his words. He spoke your tongue? Wasn’t he using an interpreter? Why-?

The confusion must be apparent on your face, because Kacchan scoffed, turning to stride to the table, taking a seat facing the fire.

“It pays to play dumb.”

“Loose lipped locals give information more freely when they assume that Kacchan can’t understand them.” Izuku beamed, crouching down in the Barbarian’s previous place to begin untying the rope binding your hands and feet to the table leg.

“Stand up for me please.”

You did as Izuku asked, shakily rising to your feet with a helping hand from Izuku on your arm. He began leading you towards the basin nearby, Kacchan watching the two of you with sharp eyes.

“Do you need help with the fastenings?” Giving Izuku a confused look, your eyes fell to the basin, to the fire, to Kacchan seated at the table. Were they going…. Were they going to boil you alive? Eat you?

Trembling even harder now, it was only Izuku’s surprisingly strong grip on your arm that kept you upright, knees giving out beneath you.

“Help her out, she’s damn near useless.” Kacchan’s strong voice cut through the air, the air that seemed too thick, the air that was choking you, throat closing up.

What does one even do in this situation? Do you beg for your life? Scream for help? Who would come? Accept your inevitable fate?

There was no time to make a decision, however, because Izuku’s nimble fingers were pulling at the fastening of your dress, quickly unlacing it.

You were numb again, fingers leaden, legs heavy, mind fuzzy and listless. Izuku peeled down the top of your dress, and you barely thought to cover yourself - you’d be dead in minutes anyways, what did it matter?

Still, your hands rose to your breasts, shielding them from view involuntarily. Kacchan snorted from his sweat, but said nothing.

When you were completely bare, an arm over your chest, a hand over your sex, Izuku ushered you towards the basin, prompting you to step into it.

This was it, you were going to die.

One last shot of fear raced up your spine, and you turned to the green haired man by your side, his hand falling away from the small of your back. “Please, please don’t kill me, I don’t know what I did but please spare my life. Please, I’m sorry.” Tears were burning your vision, throat choked up with thickness.

Kacchan burst into laughter. “I’m not gonna kill you, the fuck?! Goddamn, your people call us barbarians yet you’re afraid of a bath, fucking hypocrites.” There was a mirthful glint in his eyes when you looked at him, the man leaning back in his chair, arms resting behind his head as he relaxed.

Izuku chuckled also, putting his hand on your lower back again, gently pushing you towards the basin. “You’ll be okay, it’s just some warm water. It’s close to the fire because we don’t want you to catch a chill. You know, the human body actually operates best when it’s within the temperatures of-“

“Deku, shut your trap before I come kick your ass, just get the girl into the water, you dumb fuck.”

The water was warm, and it felt pleasant against your skin, just on the right side of too warm, hot enough to have you relaxing your shoulders as you sank down lower, the liquid covering you up to your neck.

Izuku-Deku? Held your hair out of the way, quickly using a scoop to wet down the strands before rubbing some kind of herbal scrub through your scalp, cleaning out the dirt and debris that had gathered during the raid. You were certain you were absolutely filthy, covered in mud and small scraps, half of your side crusted with dried blood and muck from falling in the bloody street.

For a moment, you felt embarrassed at your earlier panic, silly and like a stupid child, thinking that they were going to boil and eat you. It was clear now what their intent had been, but riddled with fear your thoughts had been clouded and slow.

Fear was still present, rolling through your brain in waves, goosebumps rising from your flesh as you tried to hypothesize what was going to happen to you. From their earlier questioning, you had a faint idea, but you couldn’t bear to think about that outcome, didn’t know if you could tolerate it.

Instead, you let the warm water soothe your body, washing away the grime and dust. Izuku’s hands were gentle in your hair, as he massaged your scalp, as he rinsed out the soap. You tried to ignore how his breath hitched whenever you shifted - you couldn’t keep all of your body covered, no matter how you positioned yourself.

His hands disappeared from your hair, instead prompting your to sit up straight so he could scrub at your body with a cloth smelling of the herbal soap.

It felt weird, and goosebumps arose on your skin as strange hands touched your body. You closed your eyes and endured, for there was nothing else that could be done.

Running would be a bad idea - a naked woman sprinting through the barbarian camp would surely be caught and violated, or brought back to this tent for some twisted punishment. And you could only run if you managed to get past the two men, who ere watching you like hawks, and much, much stronger than you.

Izuku’s hands paused briefly at your chest, eyes flickering over to the blonde man, who nodded in permission. Then Izuku’s hand were running the cloth across your breasts, washing them in gentle circular motions, taking care to not scrub too hard or push too deep.

You bit your tongue as you waited for it to be over.

And it was soon, at least that part. Then the green haired man was instructing you up on your knees, facing him. Telling you to grab onto his shoulder (the man was also kneeling) and spread your legs apart.

Trembling limbs obeyed, face flushing bright red as you followed his commands, eyes squeezing shut so you wouldn’t have to look at his own flushed face.

He ran the cloth down your back, over your ass, then slipped it between your legs to wash your sex with easy swipes of the cloth. The man’s breathing picked up subtly, and you could tell, leaning up against him as you were. His hands wandered, the cloth moving slower and slower upon your cunt, almost stroking at your folds, his fingers pressing through the cloth.

“Oi, Deku! Keep your shitty hands to yourself, you’re supposed to be washing her up, not feeling her up, shitbrain.” Kacchan barked, slamming his fist down against the table to get Izuku’s attention.

Both you and the man in front of you jumped, Izuku immediately blushing the deepest red you’d ever seen, flashing the blonde an apologetic look and you a nervous smile, before he seemed to gather himself, continuing to dutifully cleanse your nether regions.

It was awkward for the both of you, feeling his hands run over your private areas, over your sex, through your ass cheeks. But then he was down, rinsing you off with scoops of warm water before fetching a large towel, ushering you out of the basin, holding out the towel to wrap around your body when you stepped out.

Then you were ushered closer to the fire, sat upon a small stool as you huddled close to the warmth, clutching the towel tightly around you. The air was quite warmer than outside, but was still cold to your wet skin.

Izuku began running his fingers through your hair, parting knots, patting sections dry with a corner of the towel. By the time he was finished, you felt warm again, face rosy from the heat of the fire.

The heat felt pleasant, like the feeling of a full belly after a long day.

You were tired, exhausted from the emotional weight you had endured. Village burned, tripping over corpses and disembodied limbs, taken captive, forced away from your fellow villagers. Stripped down and fondled - at this point, you just wanted to sleep.

To sleep and sleep, wake up and have this all be a bad dream. Some twisted nightmare your mind conjured up while in the warmth and safety of your own home.

A large hand upon your shoulder roused you from your half-asleep state, lulled by the warmth of the fire and the quietness of the tent. You jumped, turning to find Kacchan towering over you and Izuku both.

Kacchan crouched, his hand sliding from your shoulder to your hair, then onto your cheek. “You look so fuckin’ weird.”

Izuku sputtered. “Oh my god, what he means to say, is that we’ve never seen anyone like you before. You’re… quite unique, and very um, attractive.”

You leaned away from the hand on your cheek, and Kacchan let you, red eyes blinking slowly as they scanned your features. He was an odd man, as was Izuku. There was an obvious dynamic of power, Izuku submitting to Kacchan willingly.

“Alright, you’re dry enough, get up.” You blinked at Kacchan, processing his words, before he huffed out a breath, rising to his own feet. “C’mon, let’s go, are you stupid? Get the fuck up.”

You scrambled to your feet, towel still wrapped tightly around your body, preserving your modesty.

Kacchan’s hand shot out, gripping the back of your neck, pulling you along with him as he strode towards the back of the tent, towards the sectioned screen acting as a wall.

“Deku, make your ass useful and dump out the bathwater, will ya?”

You weren’t able to see Izuku move due to the hand forcing your head forward, but you could hear his footsteps as he hurried to do what Kacchan instructed.

Rounding the screen, it was clear to see that this was where the Barbarian King slept, a pile of cozy-looking furs strewn in a pile on the ground.

You were promptly shoved towards them, stumbling down to your knees as you lost your balance. The furs provided cushion though, soft and inviting.

But you were scared again.

It was happening, it was going to happen, you were going to raped by the King.

Turning back towards the man, you began to plead, hands securing the towel around your shoulders like a safety blanket. “Sir, please, don’t do this, why me? You can have anyone, not me, please not me.”

He ignored you in favor of beginning to strip, unfastening his cloak, removing his weapons. You decided to try and appeal using a more personal approach.

“Kacchan-“

Suddenly the man was in your face, his own visage twisted into a growl.

“Don’t you ever fucking call me that. Stupid ass Deku made that shit up when we were kids, I’m not some brat anymore. I’m Katsuki-“ He backed away from you, leaving you trembling. “-Barbarian King.”

The man resumed removing his clothes, dropping his belt to the ground, grumbling as he began to undo his pants. “Should beat his fuckin’ ass for calling me that, so goddamn disrespectful. Fuck him, stupid little ass wipe twerp-“

You tuned him out, frozen. What could you do? Another impasse where your options were none.

A strong hand gripped your shoulder, or more accurately, your towel, tugging it forcefully away from you.

“No!” You cried, trying to pull it back, to cover yourself, but the man was stronger, ripping it away before you could utter another word.

“No! Stop, please!” You tried again, finally taking in Kacc-Katsuki before you. He was naked now, aside from the paint decorating his skin. His cock was quickly hardening, plumping up with each step he took towards you as you scrambled backwards.

“Katsuk-Katsuki, I’m begging you, please don’t do this. I’ll do anything! Please just have someone else!” You sobbed, back finally meeting the wall of the tent.

Katsuki smirked, crouching down just out of your reach. “You’ll do anything? You’ll let my horde use you as a toy then?”

Dread flowed through your already fear-filled body, and you gulped thickly, eyes closing.

“No?”

Shaking your head, you started to cry silently, tears slipping down your cheeks.

“You’re already doing fucking anything.” Katsuki growled, hand shooting out to grab your ankle, dragging you down and towards him.

A high-pitched cry left you as he pulled you under him, until he was hovering over you, grinning. “Cry all you want, ain’t gonna change a damn thing. In fact-“ He surged down, until his forehead touched your own, red eyes blazing “-It just turns me on more.”

The man pulled away, a hand falling heavily around your throat, giving a compulsory squeeze before hie started moving his hand downwards, fingers skimming across your flesh.

Immediately, your own hands caught his own, trying to still their journey as they neared your breasts. Katsuki paused, a sound akin to a growl falling from his throat as his eyes flickered away from your body and up to your own eyes.

There was a threat there, a warning. Let him touch, or else. Trembling, you removed your hands, instead grabbing at the furs you rested upon. Katsuki made a gruff sound of approval, before resuming his exploration of your body.

“You’re like nothing I’vs ever seen before, know that? Like some fuckin’ alien or something, but damn, you’re gorgeous. Didn’t even know someone could look like this.” He mused, entranced as he watched his hands splay over your body, pinching at your skin, caressing your breasts, slipping over your stomach and down between your legs.

“Oh god, pleaseee-“ You sobbed out, cringing as a finger trailed down your slit.

Katsuki stilled, quirking a brow as he smiled meanly. “Please what? You wanna cum?”

“Please stop…” You whispered, eyes clenching shut again as he found your clit, giving it a few quick rubs.

The man scoffed, before quickly teasing one of his fingers into your tight hole. “Tough shit, I’ve never had whatever the fuck you are, I ain’t stopping”

His finger burned, dry and too large, and you struggled to keep from clenching down upon it in discomfort, trying to force out the intrusion. This would go easier if you relaxed, if you let him have his way. You knew that, rationally, but it was hard to make you body obey.

Katsuki prepped you quickly, fingering you open until he deemed you ready, withdrawing his fingers and crudely wiping them off upon your thigh. You twitched away at the wetness, at your own slick being cleaned off on your skin, but Katsuki ignored you.

“Why do you look like this anyway? What the fuck happened?” Katsuki asked coarsely, shuffling off of your thighs, moving to lounge by your side, studying you.

The man seemed to be taking a break, more interested in your looks than fucking you, but you were glad for the reprieve, trying to wipe tears from your face as you struggled to think of a response.

“I-I don’t know?” You finally spoke, genuinely at a loss for how to explain your appearance.

Katsuki studied you with sharp eyes, a hand reaching down to his cock, beginning to absent-mildly pump himself while he looked you over.

“I’ve traveled through every shitty little village in the north, met with the damn piss-baby tribes of the east, I’ve ransacked the towns of spoiled nobles, and I’ve never seen anyone who looks like you.”

You sat up, subtly shuffling away from the Barbarian King while you shrugged, at a loss.

Your appearance wasn’t anything superiorly unusual, but apparently it piqued Katsuki’s interest. Yes, your skin was perhaps a bit different, but it’s not like you were inhuman.

Katuski seemed to get tired of talking though, settling further back into the furs, getting himself comfortable as he jerked himself off. You refused to look between his legs.

“Alright, whatever. Get up here.”

Pausing, you looked at him incredulously. Did he mean on his lap? His chest? You didn’t want to be anywhere near him - wouldn’t he find more pleasure with someone who was willing?

“Are you fucking deaf? C’mon, up.” He growled, patting his thigh, urging you over.

A gulp before you started moving, limbs heavy and hesitant, unwilling as you slowly crawled forward, towards the intimidating, impatient blonde.

You straddled his thighs unsteadily, swinging your leg over, trying to avoid touching his cock.

Unfortunately, despite your best efforts, you caught sight of it, the red tip, the precum making his length shine, the wrinkly, darker skin of his balls, his blond pubes.

You cringed, distaste evident upon your face, and you heard Katsuki chuckle darkly before his hands grabbed your hips, dragging you forward.

“What, don’t fucking like what you see? Am I not to your taste? I’ve fucked whorebag princesses less fussy than you. Get over yourself.” He spat, before taking a hand off your hip, reaching underneath you to line himself up as his other hand kept you lifted.

You trembled in his hold, twitching and swaying to the side, but this was unavoidable.

A gasp left your lips as he entered you, tip slipping through your folds, teasing into your wet hole, stretching you out.

Katsuki let out a groan, slowly dropping you down until he could remove his hand from his cock, returning it to your hip, guiding you to push further down. You felt disgusting, his cock sliding against your velvety insides, dirtying your walls with leaking precum.

When your sit bones rested against his upper thighs, his cock resting fully inside you, it felt impossible to breathe, your chest rising to draw in air but failing, the distress you felt upon being speared open seemingly too much for your body to handle.

“Fucking hell, you’re so tight. You got a dirty little cunt, don’t you? Feels fucking amazing.” Katsuki groaned, moving his hips minutely, relishing the grip your inside had on his cock, how warm you were around him.

“Ride me, will you? I’m getting bored down here.” He snapped after a moment, delivering a harsh slap to your rear to emphasize his words, spurring you into tentative action.

Problem is, you didn’t want to.

Your palms rested against his heated chest, eyes raising to the ceiling as your cheeks burned. This was embarrassing, you couldn’t do this. You couldn’t be an active participant in your violation. What would that make you?

“Oi, princess - I don’t got all night.“ Katsuki growled, landing a significantly more-jarring hit to rear, hard enough to make you squeak and jump, hips twitching at the sensation of his cock moving around your pussy at the movement.

Afraid of more forceful repercussions, you started to move, slowly sliding up, then down, creeping along, hoping it’d be enough to satisfy the man.

It wasn’t.

Katsuki grumbled something under his breath, before tightening his hold on your hips, planting his feet in the furs, then plunging into you with force. The sudden movement jostled you, and you fell forward with a cry, head bouncing onto Katsuki’s chest by your hands, the man groaning as he found a satisfactory rhythm.

“There we go, that’s fuckin’ nice.”

You cried into his chest, hands clutched into fists as you were bounced up and down, the led slap of skin too loud and jarring in the tent. The paint on Katsuki’s body was beginning to smear, sweat dampening his skin and letting the paint drip onto the ground, transfer to your own skin.

It was starting to feel good, make your stomach tighten, limbs tremble with pleasure instead of fear, and you hated it.

Slick sounds reached your ears, out of rhythm with Katsuki’s quick prods. It was wet, pulsing, as if someone-

Gasping breaths reached your ears, not from the man grunting beneath you.

Another round of cold fear dampened your arousal as you honed in on the sound, realizing it was coming from the other side of the screen.

Someone was on the other side of the screen, listening in to the Barbarian King taking you against your will.

A stuttered cry left you when Katsuki pushed too hard, hitting your sweet spot, making you clench and shudder, forgetting about the other person for a second.

But they were so loud, little gasps and moans, and the shlick, shlick, shlick, was getting faster and faster, it was impossible to ignore.

Should you try to tell Katsuki? Would he stop? Would he be mad? It was so disturbing, knowing someone was sitting on the other side of the screen, jerking themselves off so obviously .

“Katsuki-Katsuki wait, oh-“ You started, quickly cut off by a series of battering thrusts against your sweet spot.

But you had to try again. “Wait, sto-o-op, wa-unh, unh, Katsuki pl-mmh!”

“Shut up, I don’t fucking care.” The man snapped, out of breath.

“But there’s-oh…. Katsuki there’s someo-“

“I don’t /fucking care/.” Katsuki reiterated, gritting his teeth. He shut you up with another perfectly placed push against your sweet spot, and a cruel spank against your already-stinging ass.

“Ow!” You yelped, clenching up. It was clear now, that Katsuki was aware of the listener, he just didn’t mind. Maybe he got off on it, knowing someone was listening to him take apart his latest conquest.

Clenching up was the wrong response, because the Barbarian King swore, before his hips sped up, bouncing you so violently on his lap that you found it hard to breath, barely able to hang on for the ride.

“Oh…. (Y/N)….” The voice behind the screen moaned lowly, almost whispering.

It was Izuku.

You shivered, at the sound, feeling creeped out with the knowledge that the gentle, timid “interpreter” was listening. He must have returned at some point from dumping out the basin. You were feeling revolted by this entire situation, disgusted with Katsuki, Izuku, and most importantly with yourself.

Pleasure was building quickly in your stomach, zapping up into your chest, making you tingle and shake with the sensations assaulting your body.

“Sit back, fucking sit back-“ Katsuki panted, pushing at one of your shoulders to push you up, so he could see you as he fucked up into you, watch your body move, your face contorting in pleasure.

You felt like you couldn’t help it, your eyes closing, mouth falling open to let out girlish, high-pitched moans.

Your breasts were being jostled, jiggling up and down with the movement of your body, and it hurt. Hands moved to hold them, stopping their bouncing, but Katsuki appreciated the view apparently, because he groaned, pushing his head back while still trying to watch you.

“Fuck, that’s so hot. Keep touching yourself princess, keep moaning like a little slut. Let Deku know how fucking good I’m making you feel.”

Your body didn’t give you a choice, noises being pushed from your throat involuntarily as Katsuki pounded into you, red eyes trained on your frame, intense and unwavering.

An orgasm ripped through you, seemingly out of nowhere despite the steady buildup of it the past few minutes. You gasped, breathing catching in your throat, hips furiously grinding down against Katsuki’s as you rode it out, trying to stimulate your clit to intensify the feeling.

The noises leaving you were perverted; wet gasps, little squeaks and long moans as you fucked yourself onto Katsuki’s cock, previous hesitance forgotten in preference of chasing your pleasure.

Katsuki swore underneath you again, rabbiting his hips up into you in response, breathing raggedly as he neared his own release.

You were so lost in feeling the sensations in your own body, you didn’t register the stuttered groans on the other side of the screen, the speedy clicking of Izuku jerking himself through his own orgasm, the almost-silent spatter of his cum hitting the screen.

Katsuki swore once more, a vehement “Shit, shit!” before he pulled out quickly, orgasm apparently catching him by surprise, the first few warm strings of cum shooting into your warm cunt, adding to the wet mess of your own orgasm.

The rest was aimed onto the puffy lips of your slit, one of Katsuki’s hands leaving your hips to pump his cock as he gasped, hips twitching upward at the sudden temperature change from your burning heat to the air of the tent.

Then there was just the sound of three people breathing heavily, completely spent, sweaty and dirtied from sex.

Katsuki pulled you down onto his chest, chuckling breathlessly as he brought his clean hand to your head, ruffling your hair tiredly.

“Well, you’re a goddamn catch, pussy’s like a fuckin’ vice.” The crude comment made your cheeks color, but as exhausted as you were, you couldn’t find the energy to offer a rebuttal.

“I think you’re gonna stick around for a while.” Katsuki mused, and you felt your heart drop. “Yeah, you’re a keeper. Maybe if fuckface over there-“ The blond slapped at the screen “-can stop being a pervert, we could actually fuck without feeling creeped out.” He growled, although the blonde didn’t sound irritated in the least.

A small “Sorry Kacchan” was whispered from the other side of the screen, and Katsuki laughed dryly.

“Tell you what bastard, maybe I’ll let you touch her a bit.” Katsuki said, a hand creeping down to knead at your ass. “Then you don’t have to act like a little freak. Who knows, maybe I’ll even let you fuck her if you do good translating those maps we found. Got it, you little shitnugget?”

“Mm, alright Kacchan.” Came the tired response.

You were barely awake, already drifting off on Katsuki’s warm chest, too preoccupied with the red and gold paint no doubt smearing against your cheek than with the conversation going on around you.

You could panic about that later.

#fun skunk story #srsly the air was so thicc #it made my eyes water and my stomach cramp #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #barbarian #barbarian katsuki #barbarian bakugou #tw dubcon #tw noncon #dark bakugou #kidnapping #captive #blood #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere

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levworship · 3 years

Text

cw: dom!reader, fem reader, mommy kink, degrading, dirty talk, oral (fem rec), slight mind break, reader is a lil manipulative. just a bit. probably had errors

summary: you find out while on another blind date with one of mina’s friends that kirishima is just the man for you. he wants to be used, and you’re more than willing to use him.

word count: approx 2.9k

“fuckin’ mina. i’m gonna beat her ass.”

this wasn’t the first time your best friend has tried to set you up with one of her friends. and honestly, knowing her, it more than likely wouldn’t be the last time, either. “but he’s so nice” she’d promise, or “she’s just a little shy,” and perhaps the most common line of “you just have to be a little patient with them”

patient my ass.

your damn patience was beginning to run thinner and thinner the longer you sat waiting at the table for your date to arrive. you’re used to mina’s friends not being the most punctual, but to not show up at all? it was almost insulting. here you were, taking the time out of your busy day to spare some of your sweet time with some rando and—

“hey there, beautiful.” your eyes quickly tore away from the spot you’d been staring at for the past few minutes during your internal rant. part of you wished you hadn’t, because you damn near stopped breathing. typically, you’d never allow a man the satisfaction of hindering you speechless, but fuck. the man before you stood tall and strong, the white fabric of his dress shirt clinging onto his muscles in the most delicious way possible. his hair was slicked up in a style that you could only describe as goofy, and his smile? it was so contagious that you couldn’t help but to toss away the piping hot insults you’d been preparing to shoot his way.

“sorry i’m late. was searching all over town to find these for ya. i know mina said they were your favorite, and well—“ pulling his arms from behind his back, the red-haired man handed you a comically large bouquet of flowers. were they your favorite? no, not at all. but you couldn’t help but to be flattered anyway. “had to look all over town for them. turns out they’re actually pretty hard to find around here. can you believe that?” he chuckled to himself as he scratched at the back of his neck. an unfittingly cute gesture for a man of his build.

you grin sweetly as you grab the bouquet from his large hands, setting them down on the table in front of you and batting your lashes. “these are very beautiful! thank you so much, ...um?”

mina always purposely hid the names of her friends away before setting you up, mostly in fears that you’ll end up googling them and find some not so pretty things, just as you had that time when she tried to set you up with katsuki bakugou. (you noted to yourself that day, stay away from him at all costs.)

“ah- eijirou kirishima!” he filled in for you and held a hand out for you to shake. your eyebrows shot up in realization, leaning forward a bit on the table to shake his hand. you don’t miss the way his eyes shamelessly drift down to your cleavage when you do so. the sight made you laugh.

now you saw why he seemed so familiar at first glance. you’d heard mina talk to you about him on numerous occasions. big, handsome, and dumb. that’s how you’ve always perceived him from listening to her stories and descriptions. and if there was one thing you actually enjoyed about a man, it was how simple they could be. perfect for a woman with your desires.

you open your mouth to return his introduction, but he’s already cutting you off with perhaps a little too much eagerness. “and you’re y/n? did i say that right?” he quirks an eyebrow. “uh- i may have asked mina about you already. a lot.” he flashed you a sheepish smile.

talking to him felt like being a kid in a loaded candy shop. he’d be in the palm of your hand in no time.

the rest of dinner went on moderately better than your previous experiences with these stupid dates. kirishima was a bit of a talker, but you didn’t mind listening if it meant you got to watch the way those puppy dog eyes lit up a little more every time he’d begin telling you a story from his hero work (turns out you were just really behind on the latest hero news), only to quickly become side tracked by one details of his story and trail his way to another mini rant.

finally, you figure you’ve had enough of him rambling. it was time to cut to the point. “does it get lonely?” you asked him suddenly, trying your best to hold in a smile at the way he looked at you confusedly. “i mean- not really? i’m a hero so i’m with people all of the time-“ “that’s not what i meant, red.” hearing you refer to him by his hero name sent visible chills down his spine. just the effect you were wishing to have on him. something about your change in tone knocked him from a highly energetic and charismatic sweetheart, to a blushing and stuttering mess who suddenly couldn’t sit still in his seat. and from just one question, too?

he was almost too good to be true.

“no? i-i mean, yes but... i dunno. i’m busy a lot, a-and i don’t really have time for... yaknow.” “what kind of women do you like? in bed, i mean.” you managed to knock his brain around for a second time as he fumbled around his head for an answer.

“i-i guess it depends?” “hm? what do y’mean?” the way he continued to respond to your nasty questions had you licking your lips. you wanted him. badly. in the most selfish ways possible.

“depends on what the chick is into. i mean- they usually like when i’m on top. but..” you don’t respond this time. instead you look at him expectantly and wait for him to continue his previous statement. something about seeing such a grown man grow so embarrassed that quickly does something to you.

“i guess i wouldn’t mind... having someone take control for once?”

everything from that point felt like a blurred flash. you quickly abandoned the bouquet and called for the bill (which he so generously covered for the two of you) and were stumbling out of the door in no time, speedily walking all the way to your humble apartment. the door had just swung open when you were already shoving him inside.

kirishima spent nearly the entirety of the walk psyching himself up for this. did you know he wanted to experiment with this? had mina told you? how would mina even know? did he even really want this? because by the way he was struggling to catch his breath and connect dots in his mind, maybe he’d gotten too far ahead of himself.

but it was too late for that now. you’d already shoved him all the way down the hall, into your bedroom, and onto your bed before he knew it. you were fierce and impatient. and honestly? he found it quite intriguing.

“red...” you drew him back from falling into his thoughts once again, dragging your knuckles across the rough skin of his cheek. “i said, are you sure you want this?” and he swears he’s never nodded faster in his life, already grabbing onto your waist and hoisting you onto his lap. “yes! yes, i’m sure. please y/n?” and with that, a thread in you snapped.

you pushed him roughly until his head rested comfortably against the pillows, muttering a quick ‘stay’ as you began to fumble with his belt. you’d barely even touched him, yet he still lied staring at you with those same big adoring eyes. he was just too cute for his own good.

it made you want to wreck him.

you practically ripped away his pants and boxers before gently palming at his cock. you had expected him to be big, but not this big. he was long and thick, your hand barely managing to wrap completely around it. wordlessly you crouched down and pressed a gentle peck to his swollen tip, the precum that’d gathered there now sticking deliciously to your lips.

kirishima was getting so restless above you that you could’ve mistaken him for a virgin, hands fisting at your sheets with countless pleas tumbling from his lips. “so impatient, cutie. dont you want to be taken care of?” “i do! i do!” it seemed as if he was completely unashamed of how desperate he must’ve looked right now.

but rather than provide the sweet sweet release you knew he was craving, you tsked and backed away from his cock. much to his disappointment. “you know something, red? i didn’t take you for the selfish type. want me to make you feel good when you haven’t even touched me yet? and i thought you were a gentleman...”

kirishima thrashed below you, fingers digging hard into your hips. “i’m a gentleman! i’ll be a gentleman! i promise!” his lip wobbled cutely. you almost felt bad for having to deny such a pretty face.

almost.

he observed closely as you leaned back on your knees, sliding down the straps of your dress and tugging until your lacy bra was revealed to him. you were going to be the fucking death of him. you couldn’t help but giggle a bit at the way he eyed your chest. “i’ll tell you what.” you said as you reached out and pressed a finger under his chin, forcing him to meet your intense eyes.

“be a good boy for me and maybe, maybe, i’ll let you touch. deal?” and kirishima nodded giddily. truly an obedient little thing, he was.

you gave him a large smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes before patting him on the cheek, moving up to straddle his face and... shit. you weren’t wearing any panties under your dress. the smell of your arousal right in front of his face nearly made him overload, wanting nothing more but to bury his face between your legs until you’re heaving and begging for a break. but he had to be good for you. wanted you to rake your fingers through his hair and call him your good boy while he plays with your pretty tits.

“well? dont you want a tas—” you gasp when his mouth is suddenly on you, every sense of restraint abandoned as his tongue slid across and pressed against your poor clit. it was messy, no real technique behind his frantic movements, but he still had your eyes crossing and your thighs squeezing the sides of his head as ear muffs, his fingers squeezing and prodding at the flesh to keep himself grounded.

the sounds that came from your cunt and his mouth were embarrassingly lewd, the sound of his slurping making your entire body go hot. you were so close to losing your composure and letting him have you the way he wants, but you couldn’t pass up an opportunity like this. not when you’ve been craving this for this long.

“kiri..” you couldnt tell if you were whispering or yelling at this point, brain all scrambled from the amount of pleasure you were receiving. you nearly doubled over from the vibrations of the small ‘hmm’ of acknowledgment he gave you. your fingers tangle themselves in his stiff red locks, holding his face still to allow you to grind yourself on his mouth just the way you wanted.

your breath hitched in your throat each time his nose bumped against your clit, his tongue buried deep in your hole as he was desperate to taste all of your juices. you could already feel your orgasm creeping up on you..

“oh, shit! just like that. good- fuck! such a good boy” the praise sends him into a frenzy, now using the pad of his thumb to rub viciously at your clit as his tongue fucked into you so nicely.

“‘m cumming, cumming, oh my god!” you’re hunched over now, eyes screwed shut when your orgasm suddenly rips through you. kirishima’s tongue continued its assault on your spasming pussy, the overstimulation becoming almost unbearable. you tried everything to get him off of you to make it stop. tugging his hair, lifting yourself up- but nothing seemed to be able to separate him from you until you literally shouted his name.

he released you in an instant and allowed you to back away to fully take in his form. everything about the sight was downright sinful. your juices covered the entire lower half of his face, and his hair remained matted with sweat against his forehead. and most delicious of all? he still looked hungry. you nearly said ‘fuck it’ and climbed back on top of him again...

but he needed to be punished.

and it seemed that he knew this too, because the moment your eyes met he was already begging for mercy. “‘m sorry! p-“ “i thought you promised you’d be a good boy? yaknow, i’m not exactly a big fan of liars, red. how could i let you have me when you can’t even follow simple instructions?” he’s silent at this point, eyes glued to the ground with an unreadable emotion splayed across his face.

you huffed as you climbed off of the bed, standing on wobbly legs with your back turned to him. you shook your head as you quickly slid your dress back into place. you originally planned on leaving it at this and sending him home, and perhaps you’d consider giving him a second shot if he begged you pretty enough. but kiri had other plans.

he wasn’t quite sure what came over him, but when he realized that you were planning on leaving him like that he couldn’t help but to jump up, gripping onto your waist once again. “kiri! what are you doing?” “please.” he whimpered into your ear, hard chest pressing into your back and his painfully hard cock rutting against your ass.

you probably would’ve collapsed right there if it weren’t for his tight grasp. “please don’t leave! ‘m so hard for you. want you so fucking bad. i’ll do anything, just- please let me cum. mommy.” the word rolled off of his tongue so sweetly, so heavenly, you couldn’t stop yourself from shoving him back onto the bed and tearing off his shirt.

you licked your lips when he was left completely bare to you finally, hand already working at pumping his cock. “suck a dirty boy. men like you are scum, you know that? getting so upset that you didn’t get your way after being so disobedient? i should tie you up and edge you for the rest of the night just for that” he began to mindlessly shake his head, muttering quiet a ‘no, no..’

“however,” you began to drag your fingernail across his chest, playing with the hairs that rested there, “think i’m gonna let it slide this time. well, only if you thank me properly..”

“thank you mommy!” the way there wasn’t even an ounce of hesitation or shame in his voice had you clenching around nothing. denying him any longer was beginning to be just as much torture to yourself as it was to him. biting down on your lip, you grabbed his cock and started pressing the tip to your entrance.

you began to feel as though you’ve managed to completely break him, watching as he continued to sputter out ‘thank you’s even as you struggled to take his cock in your dripping cunt. the stretch was nearly unbearable at first, but you were never one to back down from a challenge.

you weren’t going to stop until you knew you’ve completely broken him down into a blubbering mess for you. until you were the only thing he could think of. until you had him quivering and begging just for you. the thought of making him into your slave had you bouncing on his dick with energetic vigor.

kirishima was a sight to behold, too. eyes crossed and occasionally fluttering shut, panting like a dog as every bit of his stamina oozed out of him and he had to hold himself back from cumming too quickly.

at one point you caught his eyes glued on to the way your covered tits bounced while you rode him, still clad in your tight dress. you smirked devilishly before reaching behind your back and unclasping your bra, tugging it down with the dress once again and toying with your puffy nipples for his viewing pleasure.

that seemed to be the final straw for kiri, as he was now bucking up into you like a horny mutt. “gonna cum so hard, mommy. please let me cum in you. g’nna fill you up so good. wanna make you a mommy. i want it- i want it- i want it...” with all of his babbling you weren’t quite sure if he was aware of what he was saying right now, but the lewd words still had you spiraling closer and closer.

“cum in me, baby. be a good boy for mommy and give her your babies, okay?” you told him as you gripped his face in your hands.

and like the obedient little thing he is,, he did exactly that.

thirsts and requests for haikyuu and bnha are open.

#kirishima smut #bnha smut #mommy kink #boku no hero academia smut #mha smut #i’m so sleepy jesus #glad i’m finished doe #my hero academia smut #.chiyo’s works #.chiyo’s works bnha

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not-me-simping-for-blasty · 3 years

Text

Wrong Number, Asshole - A Bakugou Katsuki Soulmate AU

All Parts

Part 24:

You groaned, rolling over to grab your dinging phone off the nightstand.

Rubbing at your eyes, you sat up against your headboard, breathing deeply. As it turns out, a highly emotional day like the one you had yesterday could really tire a person out. It was so tiring in fact that you had collapsed almost the second you fell into bed last night. You had been pretty much dead to the world since.

Opening your phone, you nearly rolled your eyes at the text waiting for you.

You scoffed. He sure was petulant today, wasn’t he?

He began typing again, but deleted his words.

Now, you were a little nervous. You weren’t being clingy- right? Sure, you really wanted nothing more than to see him again, and sort of felt that maybe you were entitled to that considering he was your soulmate, but maybe the feeling wasn’t mutual?

Who were you kidding, he might have texted you but that didn’t mean he liked you as much as you liked him. This was Bakugou after all, and even if he somehow did, he’d rather chew his own leg off than admit it.

You read through the texts again, hoping and praying that you didn’t sound too desperate. It was another few minutes before he responded again. With an answer that really did absolutely nothing to quell your fears.

You blinked owlishly at his reply, before sending him a quick “okay”.

Bakugou always seemed to know when you were overthinking things- and, on one hand, it was annoying because he never understood that him and his dismissive words were the cause, but, on the other hand, it was nice. To finally feel understood for once. And to finally talk to someone who’s responses, when he tried, were intentionally made so blunt that you couldn’t possibly misunderstand them.

Sighing, you pulled your tired body out of bed and headed for the shower. Apparently your plans, which had originally consisted of being lazy the entire afternoon, were suddenly changing. Not that you were complaining though.

--/--

Stepping out of the cab, you noticed the crowd once again swarming the front of the hospital. The horde of people almost seemed to be moving as one mass, pushing and pulsing against the security guards standing at the entrance. There were a lot of people covered in Dynamite merch and face paint, even little kids dressed up like Bakugou and feigning explosions as they played.

It seemed that Bakugou’s heroic deed had put him back in the public’s favor and now they all had gathered in a show of support- and while you could appreciate that as a symbol of community, you selfishly sort of wished they’d leave so visiting him would be less of a spectacle.

You realized suddenly that more of this was definitely going to be in your future; the crowds of screaming people and adoring, over-excited fans. Your soulmate was a pro-hero after all, and quite possibly the loudest man you’d ever met- you should’ve known a quiet life wasn’t going to be an option.

As it stood now, you had almost no idea how you were going to make it through the massive throng of bodies- and, even if you did somehow push to the front, how you were going to convince the guards to let you through at that point.

“Excuse me!” A young girl suddenly grabbed your arm, tiny fingers clasping around your wrist. “Do you know how to get in! I need to get in!”

You were blindsided, stopped in your tracks and held down by the girl. She was young, but not much younger than you- if you had to guess, she was 17 or 18, with bright eyes and a strong grip that surprised you. This, her, was certainly not what you expected out of today.

“I- why do you need to get in so badly?”

“Bakugou!” She exclaims, eyes glazed over starry and adoring. She thrusts out her other wrist, presenting you with a poorly drawn tattoo. “See? I’m his soulmate!”

Your stomach drops, and for a second you nearly believe it- but then you snap out of it, and all you can think about is how strange the situation is. She was young, so obviously young, and so clearly charmed by your soulmate’s hero persona. You thought it was a little funny- if she knew Bakugou like you did, you were almost sure she wouldn’t be as delighted with him.

You weren’t sure how to respond. The immature, prideful part of you wanted to scoff and shake her hands off of you- to tell her just how foolish she looked talking to his actual soulmate. But, then again, you weren’t sure you could say anything about that at all. In all the research you’d done on him, you hadn’t seen a single mention of a soulmate- he never talked about it, never let anyone see even a hint of your name tattooed on him. Maybe he wanted to hide it for the sake of his career? Or, worse, was embarrassed of it?

“H-his soulmate, huh?” You stutter out, unsurely.

“Yep! So that’s why I need to get in there so bad! To make sure he’s okay!” She rambles. “So, will you help me get in?”

“Y/n! Y/n L/n!” You hear a familiar voice yell, and when you look towards the sound, all you see is a flash of red hair and hands waving emphatically.

Kirishima. Thank god.

“I’ve gotta go.” You shake the girl’s hand off, slightly jostling her with the force. “I’m so sorry!”

You hardly recognize the disappointed look in her eyes before your arm is grabbed once again- but this time by a security guard as he leads you to the front. The guard deposits you at the entrance, just a few feet from where Kirishima is waiting for you.

“Sorry about that.” The red-head chuckles nervously, opening the door up for you. “I uh- I woulda said something earlier, but I couldn’t see you to point out for a guard. It’s totally my bad!”

“No, it’s good, you’re good.” You reassure him, following him as he leads you to the stairwell from yesterday. “Thanks for saving me. I was pretty overwhelmed.”

“Yeah. It can get pretty crazy out there- not as crazy as Bakugou, though! You shoulda totally seen him screamin’ and yelling at the window when you walked up. He was super pissed.”

“Sounds like him.” You can’t help but smile. “Doesn’t surprise me at all.”

“Yeah.” Kirishima nods. “Who was that girl- you know her?”

Your silence and the uneasy expression that rolls across your face must give it away- he almost immediately pales.

“Oh! Yeah- sorry, none of my business, right?” Kirishima turns to face you, stopping at the step above you for a moment and throwing out placating hands. “It’s totally cool, don’t feel obligated or anything, I was just curious! Sorry for prying though, that wasn’t manly of me at all.”

You almost couldn’t believe Kirishima was such close friends with Bakugou- he seemed like the total opposite of your soulmate.

“No! It’s fine- I wasn’t offended or anything. Just,” You paused, looking at you feet as they climbed higher. “She wanted me to help her get in. To Bakugou. Said she was his soulmate.”

Kirishima turns around again, his feet nearly catching on the step as his mouth drops open. “She said that? To you! That’s insane!”

“Yep.” You nod, slightly breathless and you finally reached the fourth floor. You let out a small chuckle as you continued down the hallway. “She was young though- definitely a fan, so I didn’t say anything. I didn’t really want to crush her dreams in front of all of those people.”

“Man, that’s good. She’d probably be super upset, right? Good job!” He throws you an enthusiastic thumbs up, all shark teeth and bright eyes. “Still though- I shoulda guessed it was somethin’ crazy like that. You looked totally freaked out back there!”

“Did I really?”

“Mhm,” He nods, finally stopping in front of Bakugou’s door. “I- uh, I better stay out here. He’ll be real mad if I let anyone else through. Especially if you’re in there.”

“Oh. Yeah. Okay.” You push the handle open, turning back for just a moment. “Nice to see you, though. Thanks again for the save, Kirishima!”

When you enter the room, you’re surprised to find Bakugou, grumpy and sitting in a chair next to the window. And not in his hospital bed resting- where you’re almost 100% sure he should be. He’s clad in a weird combination of hospital pants and his own sweatshirt- it only serves to make him look even more petulant as he sits with his pinched expression.

“You seemed real buddy-buddy with Shitty Hair.” He grumbles, but there’s a smile beginning to tug at his lips as you near. “You think he’s better than me or some shit?”

“Oh- yeah. Loads. Loads better actually.” You joke, taking the vacant seat next to him. When you turn to look at him, he’s already glaring at you. “Oh calm down, grumpy, I was joking. Box dye and bandanas aren’t really my thing.”

Bakugou laughs. “He’s been pullin’ that shit since high school. Kinda losin’ all hope he’ll ever be cool.”

“Hey- don’t be mean! Maybe he’s just an extra-late bloomer, you never know.” You sigh, fixing him with a serious stare. “Now, though, we should really move onto more pressing matters.”

“Which are?”

“You in one of these chairs, and not in a hospital bed!” You near shrieked. “Which- by the way, I looked it up- four stories is 40 feet! You fell 40 fuckin’ feet and you’re not in a hospital bed, right now!”

Bakugou just rolls his eyes, fixing his gaze on the window once more. “Stop your freakin’ out already, woman, I’ll be fine. I’m already healed from all the big injuries anyway- so just shut the fuck up about it already.”

“The big injuries- what about the small ones? Bakugou! 40 feet! Do you know how much that is! I feel like you’re not taking this seriously enough!”

“Who cares.” He shrugs, settling into his seat with a slight wince. “Didn’t fuckin’ kill me, so who cares.”

“Me! You idiot! How many times do have to make this clear to you!”

Bakugou just looks at you, eyes widening as he breath catches. He looks genuinely and plainly shocked- easily the most expressive you’d seen him be aside from rolling in pure anger.

“I already told you, you fuckin’ asshole, that I like you and care about you! So of course I’m happy that you’re not dead, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about the small stuff!” You emphasized, sighing as you run an errant hand through your hair. “And I can see you’re still fucking hurt, so of course I’m going to freak out when you’re not in a hospital bed- like you should be, and you’re not sitting there resting- like you should be! Who the hell even helped you up? Why the fuck would they ev-”

“Shut up already. I get it.” He mumbles, and when you look at him his cheeks are bright red and he’s biting his knuckle. His eyes are alive though- bright and simmering and so very, very red. “I got up myself. Don’t go blamin’ anyone else for it.”

“God. Of fucking course you did! You know- you make yourself really hard to care for, right?”

“I know.”

“And it’s just like- I do it anyway, you know! And get shit-all nothing but anxiety and still choose to do it anyway! You’re so fucking frustrating!”

“I know.”

You turn to look at him, but he’s already looking at you, something soft and pleased growing at the edge of his lips.

“No! Don’t just sit there and start smiling.” You huff, pointing an emphatic finger at his stupid smiling face. “I’m mad at you and you need to go back to bed so don’t just fuckin’ smile at me!”

“I get it.”

“No, obviously, you dont! Because you’re not getting up! So, c’mon,” You stand from your chair, offering a hand. “Let me help you.”

Bakugou just looks at your hand, glares at it, and stands by himself. You can see the strain plainly on his face- how the action winds him and how it sends pain shooting through his battered body. When you look at his eyes though, all you can see is resolute stubbornness. With great effort, and even greater determination, Bakugou manages to hobble over to the wall, dropping against it. His shoulders hit first, and then he’s rolling all of his weight back onto them.

You were stunned- not that he chose to do it, because of course he chose to, but mostly that he’d succeeded. You’d seen a clip of his fall, it was playing on the news before you’d left your house, and it looked nasty. When he hit the ground, all of his limbs were so mangled and impact alone knocked him out clean. The injuries he still had, broken bones and cracked ribs, at the very least, must’ve still been causing him great pain- and yet he surpassed those with sheer force of will alone. It would’ve impressed you; if seeing him in so much pain didn’t make you so sad.

“That didn’t look comfortable. I really think you need crutches, angry man.” You point to the bed. “Or you could just go lay back down, like you’re supposed to, and we could forget this whole argument.”

“No thanks. Done bein’ fucking fussed over. The only reason I haven’t left yet is because there’s people everywhere.”

“And because you’re not supposed to, remember?”

“No. It’s good now. Nurse said I could.” He says, groaning when you stare back at him entirely unimpressed. He points to a bundle of papers and medication on the bed. “Look, gave me all the discharge instructions and everything. I’m not fucking lying.”

You walk over, flipping quickly through the packet of instructions. Bakugou wasn’t lying- he really was approved for discharge apparently, albeit under very specific instructions for not over-exerting himself. Which he was obviously doing so great at so far.

Sighing, you folded the papers and placed them in the bag with all of his medicine. Regardless of what he wanted, you were going to make sure he took care of himself. And that included, taking all of the medication and performing the physical therapy outlined on the papers.

“Alright, then. Guess we’re going, after all.” You clap your hands together in finality, before grabbing the bag of medication. “I still think you need crutches though.”

You look him up and down, eyes zeroing in on the way he was huddled against the wall. All his weight was in his shoulders, and in any other situation, you might’ve thought it was an effortlessly cool pose- but not here. Not in this hospital room with him dressed in weird clinical sweats and a childish expression.

“I’m not getting crutches. Lame as shit.”

“Are you kidding me? Your body is literally beat to hell- who cares about how cool you look right now?”

Bakugou just nods toward the window, and you peer down to see the crowd from earlier still gathered below. It seemed like cameras and reporters had also joined, and they were making a worrying amount of headway to the door, pushing against security impatiently. It looked entirely overwhelming, if you were honest.

“If I leave with crutches,” He starts. “Then I gotta hear about that shit for fuckin’ weeks.”

“Are you serious?” You ask appalled. “You’re obviously injured! What the hell are they even gonna s-“

Bakugou just hits you with a pointed stare, and it stops you in your tracks.

He’s right. Any weakness- even crutches when injured- would read bad for his career. It would shatter the illusion people had of him. Of his infallibility and limitless strength.

“It’ll draw too much fuckin’ attention,” He elaborates, pulling the hood over his head. “No shitty sweatshirt could help me then.”

“Wait, that’s your disguise for sneaking out? A sweatshirt?”

Bakugou just nods, suddenly pulling the hood up and over his head. It flattens his wild hair against his forehead, and you nearly squeal. He looks adorable- although still very much like himself. You weren’t so sure this disguise would cut it, but you were pretty much out of other options. It would have to make do.

“Yeah. Okay. I get it, put the hood back down.” You pause, trying your hardest to think of another solution. “How about a wheelchair?”

Bakugou just looks even more offended- like your last request was a front to his very dignity. Hell, knowing him as you did, you figured it probably was.

“Yeah, fine, I get it, angry man- no wheelchair.” You sigh. “At least let me help you then? I mean, it looks like you need something at least.”

“No. I fuckin’ don’t.” He refuses hotly, shifting his weight agitatedly against the wall. “I’m fine.”

You roll your eyes, you should’ve expected him to be difficult about this. It seemed that appearing weak was his greatest fear; you thought that was a little ironic- that his biggest weakness was weakness itself.

“Seriously- please. You look like you’re about to keel over where you stand, Bakugou!”

“I told you not to fuckin’ call me that, anymore.” He retorts angrily, but you watch him wince when he moves too much. “And I told you, I’m fine. So just shut the hell up about it already.”

You watch him for another moment, taking careful stock of the way he leans back on his shoulders and curls his arms around his sides. You didn’t ask him specifically- but you’re sure now, Bakugou’s at least got broken ribs- among many other broken and sprained things probably.

Fine, if he won’t readily accept your help, than you’ll just have to goad him into admitting his own failure.

“Hmm, sure, then step away from the wall then, hot shot.”

He’s quiet, but you watch as his eyebrows pinch and his cheeks redden.

“Why? Stop bein’ fuckin’ weird! I’m just standing for a second, leave me the hell alone, shitty woman.”

You just shake your head. It almost disgusts you how much rolling fondness smothers what should’ve definitely been annoyance.

“So, you’re telling me,” You start, walking a little closer to him. “That if you stepped away from this wall right now- that you wouldn’t immediately fold in half like a lawn chair?”

“No!”

“Okay. So do it then, pop rocks. C’mon. Let’s see.”

“I’m- I’m not just gonna fuckin’ do something just because you goddamn told me too!”

“Not even if it’s a challenge?” You tease, nearing him even more. You’re just a few measly feet away now, staring defiantly up at petulant red eyes. “Because it is- a challenge. I bet you that you can’t do it.”

“Fuck you.” He grits out, but then he’s pushing off his shoulders and standing straight. “See? That’ll teach ya to run your stupid mouth about shit you don’t know dick about.”

“Hmm, good words, Katsuki- expressive, even. We’ll see how long you last.”

He doesn’t say anything, but you can see his jaw clenched down; his shoulder’s strung tightly, the slight twitch in his calves. Katsuki isn’t going to stay upright for much longer.

You move before you even recognize it, sidling up to him and ducking under his arm.

“What are you- Stop! Get the hell away!” He barks harshly, but stands in place, not really doing much other than flushing violently. “It’s- I don’t need your fuckin’ help!”

“No, Katsuki, chill out- stop,” You laugh, rearranging his heavy arm over your shoulder. “If we’re doing this then I’m going to help you!”

“Lemme go! I’ll fuckin’ crush you, I don’t need your help!”

“Okay, yes, fine, maybe you don’t need it, but it would make me feel a whole lot better if you accepted it,” You huff, your hand wrapped tight around his wrist. “And you won’t crush me- I’m a big girl, I promise I’ll be fine. So just stop being stubborn- for me? Please?”

He growls, rolling his eyes to the ceiling- but then he’s shuffling closer to you and shaking his head. If you thought his arm was heavy before, you were sorely mistaken- when Katsuki finally surrenders, the solid weight of all his muscles nearly takes you out. You stumble for a moment before regaining your balance.

“Idiot. Thought you said you could handle it?” Katsuki looks down at you, smirking slightly before once again rolling his eyes. “Now, c’mon, fuckin’ get on with it, sunshine.”

You resist the sudden slight urge to nudge his ribs, or let him collapse to the ground- this was your idea, and you wouldn’t let your child of a soulmate talk you out of helping him.

“So, I was thinking-“ You begin to shuffle with him, slightly breathless. “We sneak out the back. Or something. There’s a crowd outside.”

“Already established that, several times, fuckin’ ages ago, dipshit- and of fuckin’ course there is. It’s me.”

“Oh my god, this is not the time for your ego!” You groan, but still keep a steady pace as you begin, towards the door. “Speaking of, though, one of your fangirls told me somethin’ real interesting on the way in, though.”

“Christ. What?”

“Apparently, she’s your soul mate.” You laugh, shallowly, trying to project a confidence you couldn’t feel. “C’mon, Katsuki, you should’ve told me! Total dick move that I had to find out from her!”

He scoffs, patting your shoulder with the hand strung across it. “You fuckin’ tell her off or somethin’?”

“Nope. I told her that I think you guys would make a really cute couple!”

“Are you fuckin’ serious?”

“No- of course not.” You say stopping in front of the door for a quick break. You suddenly weren’t sure whether you could really do this or not. “I didn’t say much of anything, really, didn’t know if I could.”

“Hah?” He looks down at you funny, red eyes squinting. “Fuck’s that mean?”

“You know, your career? Didn’t wanna say anything just in case.”

“Incase’a what?”

“I- I don’t know,” You stutter, suddenly feeling insecure. You focus your eyes on the tiles beneath your feet so you don’t have to look at his eyes. Eyes that you can feel boring into the side of your head. “Just in case, you know?”

“No. I fuckin’ don’t.” He says, mild irritation coloring his voice from above you. “Stop thinking so goddamn much, I can’t fuckin’ keep up- just tell me what you’re all worked up over.”

“It’s-“ You sigh, ringing your hands together anxiously. “You’re- you’re not embarrassed, right? Because, I know I shouldn’t have done this but I was looking you up again, and I just- I didn’t see anything about you having a soulmate? Anywhere? Ever? Do you just not want people to know or- because that’s totally fine, you know, like I get it, you’ve got this super big career outside of me and I’m totally fine if you just wanna like not say anything to anyone or lik-“

“Idiot. Stop thinking so much.” Bakugou tilts his head towards the ceiling. “I’m not fuckin’ embarrassed of you.”

“T-then why?” You ask hesitantly, while staring at your feet. You’re not sure if it’s the jarring movement as he rearranges his weight or your racing heart, but either way you’re feeling sick. “Actually- you know what, it’s fine, forget I even said anything. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Bakugou doesn’t say anything, just nods and stays silent. Then he looks down at you, at the way you won’t meet his eyes, and he groans.

“Fuckin- fine. God, you always make me say the most embarrassing shit.” He gripes, flushing slightly as you finally look up at him. “It’s not because of any of that stupid shit. It’s- I fuckin’, ugh, I didn’t want somebody else findin’ you or whatever before I did.”

“What? Find me? Who?”

“God, you’re fuckin’ dense.” He scoffs, but when you look up he’s still smiling lazily down at you. “People. Media. Fuckin’ villians probably too.”

“Holy shit.”

“Chill out. I kept fuckin’ quiet so you don’t gotta worry about that now. Besides-“ He turns his head away, cheeks flushing slightly. “I’d blast all those fuckin’ weaklings to hell if they tried anything now. So don’t get all anxious about it or whatever.”

You just look down at your feet, smiling at his words but still feeling unsure nonetheless. You understood- for sure, but that didn’t mean the weight of all these consequences was easy to bear.

“Now can we go? Are we done worryin’ about stupid shit?” He asks lightly, jostling you slightly. “Got more important things to do.”

You nod, opening the door just to watch Kirishima stumble backwards.

“Oi- shitty hair! What’re you leanin’ against my door like that for?”

“Oh! Hey guys!” He greets cheerfully, before taking stock of the situation. He tilts his head. “You guys leaving?”

“Obviously.” Bakugou scoffs, but then he’s leaning in toward his friend, dropping his other hand heavy on the red-head’s shoulder. “Need ya to distract anyone who walks up here though. Gonna leave the other way and go out the fuckin’ back.”

“Oh- yeah, okay! Got it, man! You sure you should be leaving though?”

“That’s what I said.” You interrupt, glaring Bakugou into silence as he tries to speak. “But he insisted- and I’ve got all his meds and instructions so I think we’ll be alright. Maybe. If we’re lucky.”

“Don’t just fuckin’ talk about me like I’m not standin’ right here, shitty woman!”

“I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t so difficult all the time!” You retorted. “Now, you can handle it from here, right Kirishima? We really could use your help.”

“Yep! Totally got this! You guys go on ahead, I’ll stand guard right here!” He flashes a bright smile at you, before pointing down the hall. “There’s a staff elevator just down there. You should use that- it’ll probably be way faster. Good luck!”

You just nod, smiling brightly at him as you pull Bakugou in that direction.

“Oi- not so fuckin’ fast!” He shouts, stumbling slightly.

“Keep your voice down, angry man! Everyone’s gonna know it’s you!”

“How the fuck is my voice gonna give it away?” He says, while simultaneously screaming like a banshee in the middle of an otherwise quiet hallway.

“Like that! So keep it down, good fucking lord.” You grumble, a breath of relief leaving your mouth as you finally near the elevator. You push the button, sighing as the doors open.

Bakugou shuffles away from you, leaning against the back wall and staring moodily at you as you press the button. The elevator surges downward, and after a minute or so the doors began to open again. You shouldered his arm once more looking up to see him pulling the hood of the sweatshirt farther down his face. He looked adorable and you couldn’t keep yourself from staring.

“Oi- fuck you lookin’ at, woman?”

“Nothing.” You laughed. “Now, c’mon, we’ve still got a ways to go.”

Sneaking Bakugou out was no easy affair to begin with, and he certainly didn’t help whatsoever. His frame was just too large and too heavy, and there was no possible way he could be quiet, especially considering his thundering steps, even when he wasn’t screaming. He seemed to attract attention no matter where he was or what he was doing. People were starting to stare as you booked it towards the back exit- you needed to move. And quick.

“Jesus christ,” You huffed, breathless and slightly irritated. You point at his stomach as you pull him along. “I know you’re hurt, but could you at least try and engage those core muscles you so obviously have?”

“You said you’d be fuckin’ fine, sunshine.”

“God, you’re difficult.” You shook your head, rolling your eyes at the sight of his amused little half-smile. “You think this is funny don’t you?”

Bakugou doesn’t say anything, but when you look up at him, there’s still that small smile edging at his lips. He seems to hold it, even through his grunts of obvious pain.

“Wow, of course you do. Immature, angry, loud man.”

“Who says I’m fuckin’ loud?” He asks hotly, pulling his shoulders in as you both shimmy through the, admittedly, small back door. “I’m not fucking loud!”

“God, you’re screaming right now! Do you even hear yourself?” You wince, but feel relieved as you help him hobble to the curb. “How’s a taxi sound, pop rocks?”

“Don’t fuckin’ call me that. I hate it. Don’t do it again.” He grumbles. “But it’s fine- whatever, I don’t care.”

“Great.”

You raise your hand up, nearly crying in relief when a taxi rolls up to the curb. When you help Bakugou in, and slide in the seat next to him, you’re almost overcome with satisfaction. Sneaking him out was one of the most difficult tasks you thought you’d ever taken on- both physically and mentally, and god, were you glad it was over.

--/--

As it turns out, explosive personalities don’t always lend themselves to explosive environments.

Bakugou’s apartment was clean, tidy, nearly spotless when you helped him walk in. It surprised you, truly, but he didn’t let you sit on that thought for long. He brushed you off, hobbling slowly down a long hallway without a word. It takes a few minutes, but Bakugou enters the room at the end and slams the door shut behind him.

Oh- What exactly were you supposed to do now?

In reality your fingers were itching to open drawers and rifle through cabinets, and just generally snoop but you, of course, knew better. So you instead chose to read through the instruction papers and medications once more- just to busy yourself and maybe see if there was anyway you could help him. Since, apparently, Bakugou was not keen on asking you for assistance himself.

You hear the door open again, and Bakugou comes unsteadily down the hallway, nearly collapsing when he reaches his couch. He’s dressed in new sweats, and he turns to look at you.

“Fuck you doin’ over there?”

“Meds, angry man.” You say, doling out the few necessary pills from a bottle. “Where’s your glasses?”

“You don’t have to fuckin’ do that.”

“What- you’re gonna force yourself to get up again?” You ask him, unimpressed. “You’re hurt, so just please let me help you. At least with this.”

He nods tightly, mouth pressed into a thin line. “Glasses are in the cabinet behind ya.”

You nod, filling a glass of water for him and walking the medication over. Watching as he took it, you weren’t exactly sure what to do now. So you just sort of hovered next to the couch, arms around your stomach anxiously.

“What’re you doing- sit the fuck down already, idiot.” He pats the seat next to him. “Stop being weird. Freaks me the hell out.”

“Yeah. Sorry.” You laughed. “Just didn’t wanna assume- in case you wanted me to leave or something.”

“Wouldn’t have let you in if I wanted you to leave. Dumbass.” He reaches over, flicking your forehead lightly. “Your stupid thoughts are clogging up the air. Stop it.”

“Hey!” You whine, rubbing at your forehead. “Not nice, angry man! I’ll let it go this time, but try it again and I promise you’ll really be hurting.”

“Mhm. I’m sure.”

He settles further into the couch, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. The mid-day sun floods through the window, hitting the column of his throat, and casting him in gold. You think he’s beautiful then. Far more beautiful than anyone else you’d ever known.

“Yeah, sorry.” You breathe out, suddenly a little nervous by your close proximity to him. “Think those’ll probably make you a little sleepy.”

“Fuckin’ stellar.”

“Don’t sound so grumpy- it’s just a nap. And besides, you should probably be taking one anyway.”

“It’s not that.” He peeks an eye open, lazily rolling his head to catch your gaze. “You hungry?”

“No- I’m good. Are you?” You ask suddenly. “I can totally get you something? Or make you something? What do you have here? What do you want?”

“Jesus, sunshine. Slow the fuck down.” He breathes, turning his head back to the ceiling with a small, fond, smile. He sighs sleepily. “I’m good. Just wanted to ask ya.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

He mumbles something, but you don’t quite catch onto it. It’s quiet for a few moments, before his breathing is starting to slow. Your surprised at just how tired he seems to be, but then again, he was taking some pretty strong pain meds. As it stands now, he seemed minutes from falling asleep, and you were worried about the strain he was putting on his neck.

“Hey- you shouldn’t fall asleep like that.” You touch his shoulder lightly, fingers just barely brushing the fabric of his shirt. “Lay down, I’ll get up.”

Bakugou just opens his eyes, only glancing at you for a moment before he closes them again. Then he’s tipping over, a flurry of heavy limbs and awkward weight hitting your lap. When you look down at him, his eyes are squeezed tightly closed and he’s blushing wildly. He kicks his feet up off the floor, and settles in, quickly becoming deadweight across your thighs.

“O-oh.” You say, breathless. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Mhm. Now shut the fuck up, I’m tryin’ to sleep.”

“Yeah.”

You’re winded, short of breath and flushing bright red from his actions; but still, you find you absolutely can’t help yourself. So, with shaking breaths, you’re carding fingers through his hair before you can think better of it.

When you look down at him, Bakugou’s only gone brighter red, but he’s smiling too. He stills, before suddenly peaking one eye open.

“Wake me up for dinner, alright, idiot?”

You nod and then he’s closing his eyes again, chest rising and falling slowly. He’s asleep and dead to the world in just a few minutes, but you can’t stop staring.

You knew you liked him- liked him a lot, as a person, not just a soulmate. You liked his weird brand of humor and his insults and death threats. You liked his masked concern and blunt words, you were even strangely fond of his yelling- but you weren’t prepared for just how much those feelings would amplify when he was so close. He was close, and warm, and breathing under your fingertips and you liked him so much. More than you’d ever liked anything or anyone else in your entire life.

You were stricken, absolutely smitten, and there was nothing you could do about it. Or even wanted to really. So you just stared, eyes tracking his calm features as you worked careful fingers through his soft hair.

You understood now- why so many of your peers had told you they were jealous. Why they had all sighed dreamily when you told them, before immediately wishing to be you. Having a soulmate was inexplicable completeness and undeniable purpose- it was finality and new beginnings all in one.

You understood now, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

//-//

ee soz this took so long!! no excuses lmao i just stupidly started playin genshin and holy shIT was that bad for my productivity ahahaha

hope u enjoy my lovelies!!!!

#bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo fluff #bakugou soulmate textfic #bakugou soulmate au #mha fic #bnha fic #bakugou imagine #bakugou series

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azucanela · 3 years

Text

chapter i

pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

warnings: cursing.

word count: 3k

summary: the internet is enamored with the idea of y/n l/n and bakugou katsuki, two renowned pro heroes, dating. the first issue? the pair rarely interacts. the second issue? apparently, they hate each other, not that anyone knows about that bit. of course, after one night of many mistakes, the whole world knows.

series masterlist

Y/N’S HEAD IS POUNDING when she wakes up the following day. Her hand coming to rub her temple as she attempts to soothe the throbbing of her own head, the light just barely seeping through her blinds already feels like too much as she rises up in her bed. Blinking a few times, Y/N’s eyes adjust to the light and she sighs, stretching her arms upwards and almost wincing at the sound of her bones cracking.

You’d think that a Pro Hero wouldn’t have such issues, and yet.

Coming to a stand, Y/N hisses at the feeling of her cold floor, frowning before she makes her way towards the hallway and rubbing a hand against her eye. She catches a look of herself in the mirror, hair amiss, makeup that she’d applied from the night before still on— and yet her eye bags seem to have grown. If Y/N is honest, she looks and feels like a mess.

That should be a given though, seeing as she couldn’t even remember how she’d gotten home last night. Though Y/N was sure the news would detail any screw ups she’d made. Sighing as she grabs the TV remote from the coffee table by her couch and clicks the TV on.

“You’re fucking kidding me.” She mumbles out when the TV turns on to reveal that she is in fact the headline, alongside Bakugou Katsuki.

Almost on cue, a set of rapid knocks sound against her door and Y/N already knows who it is, again.

It was an accident, Y/N hadn’t meant to get blackout drunk at a literal Gala filled with several respectable and admirable peers from the Pro Hero world. And she certainly hadn’t meant to speak poorly about one of those peers— well, if she could really call Bakugou that at this point. After all there was a reason she spoke poorly of him.

“He’s an— an ill-mannered, rude, insufferable—” Y/N inhaled deeply as she looked to Lorelai, gesturing her hands vividly as she finally said, “bastard!”

Lorelai stands with a hand pressed against her temple, rubbing it gently as though that would end the headache that Y/N had probably caused with her shenanigans. “I warned you.” She mumbles out before reaching into her pocket and pulling out her phone as Y/N continues to drone on about the young man.

“I ran into him and I was filled with complete and utter rage. Did I do a few questionable things? Yes. Do I regret them—” Y/N sighs, bringing her hands to her face as the news plays in the background before saying, “I do.”

If Y/N was honest, she wasn’t remorseful at all, not when it was Bakugou they were talking about. But she was embarrassed, she’d acted out like a child and there was no denying it. As much as she disliked the idea, a public apology was probably necessary and a private one to Bakugou was the least she owed him.

Currently Y/N L/N and Bakugou Katuski were on every headline and front page there were, all because Y/N had elected to get a little too drunk and start talking trash about Bakugou. In the world of Pro Heroes, her word carried a lot of weight, so although it was unprofessional, Y/N had a feeling it was Bakugou’s PR team that was panicking right now.

"You’re trending.” Comes Lorelai’s words, a hand coming to scratch the back of her neck awkwardly as she looks back up at Y/N, “I suppose that’s good.”

Y/N had a feeling the people who shipped her with Bakugou were rather devastated upon finding out that the (non-existent) couple that they idolized yet had zero interaction actually hated one another. “Maybe they’ll stop thinking Bakugou and I would ever enter a relationship now.”

Raising a brow, Lorelai looks up to her, typing away at her phone without looking at the keyboard as she replies, “actually they’re shipping you with Pro Hero Deku. They caught quite a few pictures of you two dancing together last night.” Lorelai’s eyes returned to her screen, squinting as she mumbled out, “the Bakugou shippers are disappointed, but they’re still going strong. Something about… enemies to lovers?”

Y/N groans in annoyance, it was beginning to become abundantly clear that nothing good was going to come of this. Not that she expected such a thing, but a girl can hope. With a sigh, she shakes away those thoughts, pushing them to the back of her mind as she looks to Lorelai, “what are we going to do?”

“I am going to speak with Bakugou’s publicist, and set up a meeting.” Comes Lorelai’s response, bringing the phone to her ear as she made her way towards the door for more privacy.

Y/N looked to her publicist, brows furrowed, “I don’t want to meet with Bakugou.”

Rolling her eyes, Lorelai gestured to the TV as she replied, “we don’t have much of a choice do we?” Sighing, Lorelai stares at the ringing phone before saying, “you can’t let your issues with Bakugou interfere with your career— you two were bound to work together at some point. Whether you wanted to or not.”

Y/N can easily pick up on the underlying words as Lorelai steps out the door, she’s essentially telling her to suck it up. And though Y/N recognizes that she is absolutely and completely correct— that she unfortunately cannot allow Bakugou’s existence to interfere with her career, that doesn’t mean she can’t be upset about it.

And besides, avoiding him had gone perfectly fine up until now. Y/N was still wondering what had possessed him to actually attend a public event. Last she’d checked, the boy hated them with a passion, and most of the time they only further damaged his reputation.

Last night was only more evidence of that fact.

“You’re right.” Comes Y/N’s words, sighing dejectedly as she sinks further into her couch. “Let me know how it goes.” Even Y/N could recognize that there was no other choice, and well— she had to be mature and realistic about this.

Lorelai steps away, and Y/N finds herself glad that she can’t hear whatever it is the woman is saying as she straightens her posture, sitting up as she crosses her legs on the couch to watch the news.

“Famed Pro Hero Y/N L/N was caught expressing her true feelings for Bakugou Katsuki, and they certainly weren’t what fans were hoping for.” The woman on the screen leans back in her seat, moving out of the way to gesture to the screen behind her, as she opens her mouth to speak again, Y/N finds herself grabbing the remote and changing the channel with a glare towards the reporter.

Not that it was her fault, Y/N had a feeling if she had a job with any news station right now, this story would mean everything for her career. But she didn’t, she was a Pro Hero, and she had more important things to do— and even then, weren’t there more important things to report on?

The screen changes, and this time there’s another woman on the screen, a solemn look on her face as she leans forward on the desk with her hands clasped. “As the anniversary of the villain Stain’s incarceration grows near, civil unrest has begun to worsen. With another copy cat killer on the loose, it seem that people have once again taken to the streets to demand his release, or at least a change in his current life sentence for the murder of—”

Y/N shuts off the TV, grimacing at the reminder of her school years. Each year, crime would spike, so more Pro Heroes would set to work around this time. And each year, the number of casualties for Pro Heroes would practically triple because of all the people that tried to target them. This wouldn’t be the first Stain copy cat they’d seen, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Most of them didn’t last this long though, caught by the police by their first attempt ideally, if not then their first kill.

Y/N had lost good friends to people like that.

Exhaling deeply, she comes to a stand, pulling out her phone to see she had several unread messages from Lorelai, all of which were in reference to the current… situation they were dealing with. There were— unsurprisingly— a few messages of concern from Izuku that Y/N can’t help but smile at. The boy had always been too kind for his own good. But what did confuse her were the messages from an unknown number, Y/N’s brows furrowed as she moved to open them.

UNKNOWN ???

It was only a single message, but it still leaves Y/N confused, few people had access to her number, and for some reason she finds it unnerving as she goes to delete the conversation.

BAKUGOU WISHED HE COULD FORGET the chaos that had been the night before. Alas, every moment was burned into his mind, especially that bit in which Y/N had cursed him out while drunk and maybe something about him trying to fight Deku but that wasn’t really anything out of the ordinary.

His eyes open to the sound of his alarm, and like clockwork— Bakugou rises from his bed and when his feet hit the floor he’s slipping on a set of house shoes instantly. He’d always been more of the type to live a methodical, routine like, life. Make the bed, cook himself a healthy breakfast if he hadn’t already meal prepped for the week, take a shower, get dressed, go to work. And then do it all over again.

Bakugou had never felt the need for any spontaneity, seeing as his job provided enough of that. Surprise, there’s a murderer on the loose. Surprise, the murderer targets heroes specifically. Surprise, it's a stain copycat killer. Surprise! He hates Pro Hero Ground Zero more than anything in the world.

The entirety of last night was not the type of surprise Bakugou was used to. Seeing as his phone is ringing as he tries to make his breakfast, and when he looks to see it’s his publicist— well, that isn’t really something out of the ordinary seeing as Bakugou seems to have a different “scandal” every week. But when the calls don’t stop coming...

Last night was a disaster, it didn’t take a genius to recognize that. Just anyone with a phone and some sort of social media, or a tv that had access to the news. Which was basically everyone nowadays. Bakugou liked to think that he had gone through worse, like when they caught him speaking poorly about Deku— although the boy had assured them that Bakugou meant no harm, and Y/N probably wouldn’t do the same.

Yeah, this was a problem.

Bakugou had a feeling that if he hadn’t been the person who hired him, his publicist would’ve cursed him out by now. Regardless, the man in question had remained… kind of calm. He was clearly on the verge of some sort of breakdown, staring Bakugou down like a hawk as he sat across from him— hands pressed together as they rested against his chin. The man had arrived shortly after leaving Bakugou about a dozen voicemails.

“How did you manage to piss off one of the most influential women in Pro Hero society?”

Despite being a newer Hero, Y/N had worked alongside several of the Top Pro Heroes already, probably because of her connections with Pro Hero Hawks and her own Charisma, making her one of the most likable of the next generation. That and the fact that she was regarded as a potential Number 1 Hero given the speed she was rising through the ranks.

Although Bakugou was sure this had damaged her credibility in some sort of way, he had no doubt she’d come back from this, even if he didn’t. After all, he wasn’t necessarily known for his award winning personality.

In response to his publicist’s question, Bakugou finds himself crossing his arms, shrugging before he replies, “beats me.”

Inhaling deeply, his publicist brings a hand to his temple, rubbing it rather harshly in an attempt to end the major headache that was coming on. “You have no idea? None at all—” One of the other PR assistants is standing beside them once more, the guy had been leaving and coming back for a while actually. This time he seems rather anxious though, “and what the hell do you want?”

“Well— well, sir. You see, we’ve been getting a call from—”

His publicist, Haru Ishida, as Bakugou had come to know him, appears to have a vein popping out of his head as he replies, “I don’t care which major news platform wants to hear what we have to say, tell them the same thing—”

“It’s Ms. L/N’s publicist!” The man cries out, hand pressed against the receiver of the phone to keep said woman from hearing their interaction, face flushed red in embarrassment as he stands straighter and adds, “sir.”

Haru’ jaw drops open as he immediately shoots up from his seat, snatching the phone from the assistants hand and bringing it to his ear before swiftly saying, “Haru Ishida, how can I help you?”

Bakugou gives the man a look, “put it on speaker.” He hisses out.

The man does as he’s told and a woman’s voice fills the room, “I think it’s more of how I can help you, Mr. Ishida.” A pause, “I’d like to set up a meeting between our clients. We can discuss more in person.”

“Hell no.” Bakugou says instantly, seeing as his little reunion with his former classmate yesterday had gone very poorly, Bakugou couldn’t really see a world in which another meeting with Y/N benefitted him in any way. Despite this, his words cause Haru to glare at him, opening his mouth to respond only for Y/N to beat him to it.

“Bakugou.” She muses, “both you and Y/N are experiencing blowback from this.” Comes her words, the sound of typing on the other end of the call as she continues, “but you need us more than we need you. I know Y/N will come back from this, with or without you. But can you say the same about your career?” There’s almost a subtle threat if you read between the lines and it leaves Bakugou cursing under his breath.

If Bakugou was right, this was Lorelai Flores, a renowned publicist though she was rather new to the game. As someone who aspired to be the best, Bakugou initially sought her out. She’d rejected his attempts at hiring her of course, which is why he’d ended up with the second best he could secure. Haru, who was currently inhaling deeply as he replied, “that can be arranged.”

“No it cannot—” Haru ignores Bakugou’s attempt at protesting, simply shooting him a glare before returning his attention to the call.

“Fantastic!” The woman exclaims, “perhaps it can be just you and I, Haru. Clearly our clients aren’t inclined to be anywhere near each other. Of course, if all goes well then I’m sure they’ll be seeing each other plenty.” The sound of a pen scribbling against a paper followed by, “pick me up at 7, you have my address.”

The call ends, and Bakugou’s brow is raised as he looks back to his publicist, who clears his throat before saying, “we’ll come to a consensus sir.”

Meanwhile, the PR assistant from before looks to Haru, “fraternizing with the enemy?”

“I can fire you.” Haru hisses in response, eyes narrowing at the boy before looking back to Bakugou as he straightens himself and collects the paper’s before him, “if you’ll excuse me, I need to prepare for my meeting with Ms. Flores.” He moves to leave, hovering by the door as he says, “by the way, I believe Pro Hero Red Riot is heading this way at the moment.”

Bringing his hands to his face, Bakugou groans, if he had to guess— Kirishima was going to lecture him, again. He finds himself coming to a stand making his way around the couch, he doesn’t bother to meet Kirishima the door since he’s already making his way inside. At the same time, Bakugou is left to watch as the rest of his PR team is exiting his apartment one by one, taking their equipment with them wordlessly.

And so, in comes Kirishima, a bright smile on his face as he calls out, “hey Bakubro!” Arms spread wide as he greets his friend, coming to wrap his arms around him. Although Bakugou doesn’t return the hug, he allows the physical contact.

“Hey shitty hair.” Comes his response, mumbled out as he is finally released from Kirishima’s grip. “What do you want?”

With a shrug, Kirishima, steps further inside Bakugou’s apartment, “I figured you might wanna talk—”

“Don’t wanna talk.” Bakugou interrupts, narrowing his eyes at Kirishima.

Nodding slowly, Kirishima offers him a tight lipped smile, a short silence encompassing them before he says, “but she said some intense stuff so I though—”

“No.”

“I can talk to her?

“Absolutely not.”

With that, Bakugou found himself wondering how this could possibly get worse at this point, of course, his question would soon be answered seeing as things could definitely get worse.

#this is not the end series #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugo x you #katsuki bakugo x you #katsuki bakugou x you #bakugou katsuki x you #bakugo katsuki x you #bnha x reader #bnha x you #mha x reader #mha x you

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cutesuki--bakugou · 4 years

Text

Anything, For You

This is a continuation of Anything. Please be sure to read that part first if you want some context!

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Rough Sex (Vaginal and Anal), Threesome (Double Penetration), Weed / Alcohol Use, Rough Oral Sex (blow job, face fucking), Public Foreplay, Public Humiliation, Spanking, Choking, Obsessive Reader, Toxic / Power Imbalanced Relationship, Emotional Manipulation, Suggested Dubcon / Reluctant / Compliant Reader

Words: 12,128

Pairing: Drummer!Bakugou Katsuki x Superfan!Fem!Reader x Guitarist!Kirishima Eijirou

Quirkless, Punk rock band AU

Not specifically written for, but using it for the @bnhabookclub ‘s members bingo event!

Crossed off: Threesome

Bingo Masterlist

BTW, please blacklist the tag cutesuki-lemons if you do not want to see this content from my blog. I will no longer be tagging with specific keywords for this type of content.Thank you~

Due to the nature of this post, the characters are 18+

Art in banner by me

Tag list: @lady-bakuhoe , @gallickingun , @unbreakableeiji , @boom-bakugou , @honeytama , @wakaoujisenhime , @ikinabi , @thotpatrolcaptain , @1-800-callmekatsuki , @tomurasprincess , @bratwritings

You nervously tightened your grip on the small clutch in your hands, digging your nails into the faux leather and ignoring the sting of the metal pointed studs against your skin. For a few minutes now, you had just been standing outside of the club Garden, listening to the loud music and watching the flashing neon lights every time the door opened. With each group of people leaving, stumbling out drunk and high off adrenaline from dancing, the same amount were let in from an insanely long line, which even curved around the building to where you couldn’t see. There were so many people waiting to go in, and yet, you knew that you could just bypass this line and go on in.

Why were you so nervous?

It wasn’t the thought that you would be glared or yelled at by the people waiting if you skipped the line. Sure, it might make you a bit embarrassed if they picked at you, but that wasn’t the problem. No, it was who was waiting inside the club and who gave you that exact privilege to just come on in that terrified you.

Bakugou 10:50 pm: come to the club Garden downtown around 1 am. just show your ID at the door and theyll let you in past the line.

Me 10:51 pm: Just me?

Bakugou 10:51 pm: just you, babe. your shitty friends arent invited.

After releasing a trembling breath, you opened your clutch to take a quick look at your phone, giving a small groan at the time that showed 1:02 am. It was time to go in, but you were so damn nervous. How could you not be? Showing up to a strange and very crowded club, to hang out and drink with your favorite people - or, well, person - on this planet? With what happened earlier that night, you knew that any type of debauchery could go down, and the stinging welts on your asscheek were testament to that. But there was going to be way more involved. More people, alcohol, and most likely some type of drugs, for sure. You knew that you’d need to be vigilant, but being in Bakugou’s presence again, you weren’t sure you’d have the willpower to say no to anything that was handed your way.

Suddenly, your phone buzzed in your hand, startling you enough to make you jump and almost lose your balance on your chunky, boot style platform heels. Looking at the screen, the fire in your cheeks grew hotter, reading the text that Bakugou had just sent you.

Bakugou 1:03 am: where are you at, babygirl? scared?

Me 1:03 am: No, I’m about to come in. There’s… a lot of people.

Bakugou 1:04 am: fuck them and come inside. there’s someone waiting to bring you up.

Releasing a trembling breath, you put your phone back in your clutch and pulled out your ID instead, gathering your courage to walk up to the front door. One of the two bouncers immediately looked down at you with a threatening posture, though his demeanor changed at the sight of your timid presence.

“Skipping the line?”

“I… have VIP permissions. From Bakugou Katsuki… I’m [f/n] [l/n]. He said I should be on a list.”

Taking your ID, the bouncer first checked it over with a flashlight to confirm its authenticity, before picking up a clipboard that was resting on a stool beside him. It only took him a moment before finding your name, smiling and giving a nod. “Yep, there you are. Follow me.” Putting the clipboard down and handing you the ID back, he made his way through the front door, at first holding it open for some people leaving before allowing you through.

Any objections you may have heard from the people in line were immediately drowned out by the music, the heavy beat shaking the ground. It was quite dark in the large industrial style building, with only blacklights and flashing neon skylights illuminating the dancefloor. Though, up one floor, you could see a loft area with mostly regular lighting, though it was dimmed, and you wondered if that’s where you would be going.

Following the bouncer as he made his way past, you used his impressive height and size to push through the crowds, since he was easily able to part the sea of bouncing drunken bodies. He led you to the stairs, as you had expected, and started to make his way up, only giving you a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure you were still following. Or to make sure that no one else was coming up, either. You weren’t sure.

As you made your way up, you felt a bit embarrassed that the stairway was mostly exposed, using your free hand to hold your short dress up against your backside to hopefully keep anyone from seeing anything private. You weren’t wearing any hose this time, since the only ones you had brought with you into town for the concert were the fishnets that Bakugou had destroyed earlier. Your only cute pair of underwear had also been destroyed, so right after the concert, you had to hunt some down. All you could find at the only store still open was a pair of cute little lace boy short style panties, which were quite sexy and were decently invisible under your dress. You knew that they would be, since you got them from a damn porn shop. There was nothing else open at midnight, so there was no choice. It still ended up perfect, though. If something else did end up happening, you assumed he would like them. Or you hoped so.

The closer you got to the loft, you realized that it was actually surrounded by glass. The only thing that was solid was the door, which was opened after a loud series of knocks from the bouncer. After a click, another man opened it up, glancing first at your guide before down to you. “She’s invited?”

“Yes. [f/n] [l/n]. Bakugou’s guest.” Stepping aside, the bouncer and what appeared to be a security guard allowed you inside, the door shutting immediately once you passed the threshold. The sudden volume difference of the room startled you a bit, as did the change in lighting, but you were quick to take in your surroundings.

There were multiple couches and chairs scattered about in strategic locations, along with tables that were already piled up with drinks. The room was much smaller than it seemed, with only one other door along the back solid wall, which you assumed was a bathroom. Then, your eyes landed on the men you adored, and your entire body instantly flushed with heat as you noticed all their eyes on you.

“Your clutch, ma’am?”

The security guard pulled you out of your stupor, holding his hand out in front of you. Nervously, you placed it in his hand, watching as he placed it in a bag behind him and zipped it up. Immediately after, he ran some type of long beeping device across the front and back of your body about an inch away, which you assumed was a metal detector. When it didn’t go off, he allowed you to walk further in with a wave of his hand, and you timidly stepped forward while pulling down your dress, clearing your throat a bit in awkwardness.

“Hey there, babygirl.” Bakugou spoke with a sly smirk on his face, holding a glass of dark colored liquor near his lips. “Finally made it. Took you fucking long enough.”

“Sorry…” Making your way towards the couch he was on, you took a moment to look at the other members, trying to control the nervous swirling of your stomach. “Nice to see you all again…”

“You were in our first meet up group, right?” Midoriya smiled at you, placing his hand on the thigh of a curvaceous woman that was placed firmly on his lap. His voice was still quite strained and cracked, worn from the performance. “Kacchan told me he invited someone, but he didn’t tell me who!”

“Because it’s none of your damn business, Deku,” With a snap of his finger as he held his hand out towards you, Bakugou commanded you over to him silently. Not even taking a second to think about it, you approached, taking his hand. He led you with only a gentle pull to stand between his legs, placing both of his hands on your outer thighs. “You look good, babygirl.”

“T-thank you-” You were cut off by the sound of a door closing, along with an annoyed whine.

“Aww, what the fuck?! Even Bakugou was able to get a girl this time, and he never does! I must have really sucked today.” Huffing, Kaminari shuffled his way towards an empty armchair, flopping down to sit with his legs stretched out in front of him, toes pointed towards the ceiling. “Bullshit.”

“You suck all the time, dunceface.”

“I do not! All the girls wanted me at our last gig.”

“Yeah, because both Deku and Kirishima were out of commission after that, so they had no other option. Don’t be such a little bitch, if you want girls, go fucking dance.” Although Bakugou’s snappy demands were directed at his companion, his glazed over crimson eyes never left your body. They scanned over every inch of you quite diligently, as if he were missing you greatly just from these few hours apart. Unsure of what to do with your hands, you let one rest tenderly on his bicep while running the other softly through his bangs, pulling the fair blonde hair loose of the light grip of sweat that stuck it to his skin. You weren’t sure if it was the lighting in the room or maybe his intoxication, but you could have sworn that you could see the tips of his ears flush with your touch.

“But I don’t want to go dance alone!” Kaminari whined, sinking further into the chair. His voice broke your concentration on the man in front of you, looking at the pouting bass player over your shoulder. It was odd, you thought, that there weren’t as many girls in here as you expected. Actually, there was only you and the girl with Midoriya, whose attention was fully on him, hands on his freckled cheeks and playfully squishing them together. Her bobbed brunette hair gave away who she was, as you had seen her in many of his social media postings, but you couldn’t quite remember her name. All you knew was that they were dating and had been friends for a very long time, but that didn’t really matter right now.

Kirishima sighed, resting his arms up over the back of the couch, his hand pulling your attention as it came to rest decently close to Bakugou’s head, though the drummer didn’t protest or seem to even notice. “C’mon, man, don’t be such a downer! I think you need to take another hit and get down there. Take Todoroki with you.”

Kaminari scoffed, looking over at the silent member of their band, who was more focused on his phone and his fancy martini looking drink than anything they were talking about. “What, so he can go stand in the middle of the dancefloor like a weirdo? He doesn’t have any dancing rhythm! He barely moves when we’re performing!”

“Yeah, but girls like him more than you, he’d help you catch their attention.”

“Now you’re all just being assholes!” Huffing, Kaminari sat up and leaned forward, snatching up a small glass pipe and the lighter beside it. “It’s not my fault that no one likes the bass players! I’m not as cool as you!”

“Hey, I’ve offered to play bass sometimes.” Kirishima grinned, reaching over to scratch the side of his nose. “But Bakugou won’t let us switch--”

“Fuck no.” Bakugou interrupted, now glowering at his friends, both of his strong hands resting on your hips firmly. “That’s too much power I’m not willing to give you, dunceface.”

“Rude.” Grumbling under his breath, Kaminari glared down at the pipe as he brought it to his lips, lighting it up and taking a hit. The smell of weed hit your nose immediately as he exhaled, the cloud of smoke leaving his lips slowly as he leaned back in the chair. “Midoriya would.”

“Because he’s a dipshit.”

“You’re so aggressive today! I think you’re the one that needs a hit, bro.”

“Fuck that shit. I’m not looking to fall asleep any time soon.”

“You’re up way past your bedtime, anyway. Grandpa.” Passing the pipe and lighter over to Kirishima as he beckoned for it, Kaminari gave a sly smirk, knowing he could press Bakugou’s buttons while you were in his way. You could feel Bakugou’s grip tighten in irritation and see his brows furrow, but to your surprise, he was quick to calm, giving an annoyed click of his tongue as he used only slight pressure to pull you to the side, gesturing to the couch for you to sit. You did so, now effectively squished between the two men, one taking a hit while the other gulped down what was left of his drink.

If you were honest, you felt quite… awkward. You didn’t really know what to do with yourself and you weren’t sure if talking would be welcomed. You were new to this tight knit group, and even though you admired and adored every single one of them, you almost felt like you didn’t belong there. Were you really worthy of being in their presence like this or being so close to Bakugou as he rested an arm around your shoulders, pulling you up against his side? It felt like a dream, and you were horrified that at any moment, you would wake up to find yourself lonely in your hotel bed.

“Want a hit, sweetheart?”

Your thoughts were disrupted by Kirishima’s pleasant ringing voice, his smile soft and comforting as he held the pipe and lighter towards you. At first, you hid your face a bit behind Bakugou’s forearm, fiddling with your nails. “I’ve never done it before… I probably shouldn’t.”

“Aw c’mon, you should! You’re safe here with us! That’s pretty cool, too, isn’t it? To have you first hit ever with your favorite band.” Kirishima’s eyes left yours for a moment as he glanced up, most likely at Bakugou, though there wasn’t anything malicious that you could see. He was genuinely being very nice about it, and so far, no one had protested. Still, you looked up at Bakugou for approval, a sly smirk crossing his lips when you did so.

“What, babygirl? Looking for permission?”

Feeling heat rush to your cheeks at his domineering tone, you nodded. “Yes. Is it okay?”

“What do you say?” His rough fingers took hold of your chin, tilting your head up as he leaned in, whisky tainted lips brushing against yours. Your heart began to race, chest heaving with steady, heavy breaths as you parted your lips expectantly. But, you were left with nothing until you answered, and you did so without a second thought or worry about what anyone else in the room might think.

“Please, Katsuki.”

A low hum resonated in his chest in satisfaction of your response, pressing his hot lips against yours to reward you for being so obedient. Or, at least, that’s how you understood it. In the few hours that you had been away from him, there hadn’t been a single moment of lucidness where you felt like you had escaped whatever hold he had placed on you. In fact, your wanting to be at his side only grew worse, to hear him praise you and reward you when you were a good girl for him.

His praise. His touch. His attention. All of it was so intoxicating, and you wanted more.

When he set your lips free after just a short moment, it took only a light bump to your chin to have you turn your head to look back at Kirishima, who was waiting patiently. He was still smiling, but there was a mischievous gleam in his eye, as if he had been waiting to see just how obedient you still were. It was gone with a blink, his pleasant and cheerful demeanor taking over as he held the pipe up between his fingers.

“Yeah? Gonna do it, sweetheart?”

“Sure,” You answered meekly, turning a bit more to face him. “Uhm… How do I do it?”

Kirishima was very thorough in his explanation of how to use the pipe, and by the time he was done, you felt confident that you could do it. Though, your confidence didn’t amount to much, as you still ended up with quite the coughing fit after your first hit. Behind the coughing and burning in your throat, you could hear Kaminari gasp out in surprise, though you couldn’t quite focus on him yet through the smoke.

“Holy shit, Kirishima, you should have just prepped it for her, that’s gonna fuck her up!”

Chuckling, Kirishima handed you a cup of water, which you gulped down eagerly. “She’s fine, that wasn’t that bad! A little too aggressive on sucking it in, but you’ll get it down. You okay?” He gave your thigh a few comforting pats, his lingering on your bare skin not quite registering in your mind as you tried to calm the burning in your throat. Thankfully, it was fading decently quick, but it still wasn’t anything like what you had expected.

“I’m okay,” You choke out after a moment, placing both the glass of water and the pipe down on the coffee table in front of you. “You guys make it look so easy!”

“That’s because they’re fucking potheads.” Bakugou pulled you back up against him. “Especially Dunceface over there. Can’t go five minutes without being high.”

“Don’t be telling lies about me, Kacchan.” Kaminari waddled a finger at his friend, and you could tell that he was feeling pretty relaxed compared to a while ago. “It’s more like three minutes.”

“Shut up. Where the fuck’s our bartender? We haven’t gotten new drinks-”

“-Let’s go down, then!” Kaminari hopped up to his feet, clapping his hands together to try and get his friends riled up. “Let’s get some drinks and dance like we’re normal people, no one’s gonna recognize us down there, it’s too dark! This VIP shit gets boring sometimes. Right, Todoroki?” With a bounce in his step, he walked over behind the couch his quiet friend was sitting on, giving him a firm smack on the shoulders. “You’re just over here on your phone! Let’s go dance!”

Todoroki took his friend shaking him from side to side like a champ, not looking away from his phone or spilling his drink. “I’ll sit at the bar, but I’m not going to dance.”

“You will after a couple of shots. Midoriya? Ochaco?”

“Let’s go, Deku!” Hopping up off his lap, the brunette took both of Midoriya’s hands, trying to pull him up with meager strength. “Let’s all go!”

With a heavy sigh in defeat, Midoriya stood, as did Todoroki. Though, there was no movement from either of the two men beside you, so you glanced between them curiously. Kirishima seemed interested, while Bakugou looked like he wanted to throw them all off the balcony just to get some peace. You weren’t sure if it was the excitement of being here, the electric energy from Kaminari, or the hit you had taken, but you really wanted to go. You were feeling restless and, if you were honest, kind of bummed out that you were still the only one who hadn’t had a drop of alcohol. You came here to have a good time with these guys. With Bakugou. But how could you talk him into it?

“You losers coming or not?” Kaminari barked before you could say a word, glowering at the three of you still plastered on the couch as he stood by the door, waiting for their security guard to unlock it and step out. “Kacchan, you were complaining about drinks, come down and get some with us!”

“Fuck, fine! If it will shut you up!”

Everything changed pace in a blink of an eye from that moment. Before you knew it, you had taken two shots of… something, and sucked down a drink faster than you thought you would, all while watching the bouncing bodies on the dance floor with Bakugou at your side. Though, he wasn’t just standing next to you. His arm was hooked around your waist like a vice, his powerful and off-putting presence preventing any man with wandering eyes from even considering trying to come up to you. At first, you felt a bit embarrassed that he was so close and so protective, but you also couldn’t help but feel… flattered. And that flattery brought up a new bubbling in your belly.

You were so happy. Again, you didn’t know if it was because of the high or the alcohol, but you were absolutely beyond tickled. It was such a strong sensation, in fact, that you couldn’t help but start to bounce on your feet and sway to the music. Your hips bumped into Bakugou’s as he stood beside you, one arm around your shoulders while the other propped him up on the bar counter. With the bump, he tightened his arm around your neck, pulling you in closer to him and pressing his lips against your ear so you could hear him over the blaring music.

“What are you doing?”

“Dancing!” You responded near his ear as he turned his head to hear you. “I like this song!”

“You call that dancing?” With his insult, he moved his arm around your back and gave you a small push forward towards the dance floor, smirking at the confusion on your face when you looked back at him. Taking your drink from your hands, he finished off the last bit of it before leaving it on the counter behind him, giving your ass a tap to guide you forward. Within moments, you were both swallowed by the giant group of sweating, bouncing bodies, all who had little to no care on who they were touching or where they were moving.

And yet, with Bakugou's arms around your waist from behind, you felt like you were completely enveloped in your own bubble. Just you, him, and the music. What truly snapped your restraint was his deep growl in your ear, tugging your hips tightly back so that your ass was firmly pressed against him.

“Show me how you can really dance, babygirl.”

No one would truly call the way you rubbed your bodies against each other to the rhythm of the music “dancing”, but all your body could comprehend in your intoxicated state. The flashing neon lights, from pitch black to strobing, was almost making you dizzy, and the only thing that seemed to alleviate the disorientation was putting all your focus on Bakugou.

The way you two moved was seamless and in tune, his hands freely roaming your body with no fears of being noticed within the densely packed group. Even if someone did notice, you wouldn’t care. All you cared about was his lips against the skin of your neck, his fingers digging into your plush curves and the hard presence of his cock beneath his pants. Just feeling it against your ass made you remember how good he felt fucking you, the way he filled up every inch of your aching cunt and made you scream for him.

How he made you his.

How you would do anything for him.

How he owned you.

“Open your eyes, sweetheart.”

The voice in your ear was a sweet growl; more of a purr to calm and coax you. It was so comforting that you almost forgot where you were for a moment, until you did as you were told. Instead of a group of dancing bodies in front of you, you were met with a clear view of that brilliant, wide grin sported only by Kirishima. He was in front of you, dancing with you and Bakugou together, his hands also firmly on your body to keep you pinned between the two men.

Your entire body immediately flushed hot, pressing further back against Bakugou to try and get some space between you and the redhead. “K-Kiri-!”

“Don’t you even think about it.” Bakugou growled in your ear, his hand coming up to wrap around your throat. “Let him touch you.”

You didn’t have much time to even consider complying before Bakugou moved you both forward, not allowing you any space or chance to dip out from between them. You were trapped. How long had Kirishima even been there? Whose hands had been touching you this entire time, squeezing your breasts and your hips so eagerly? Had it been both of them? Whose hand was that right now, sliding up your thigh and bringing your dress with it.

What was happening? They couldn’t actually be thinking about touching you here on the dancefloor, could they? In the privacy of the VIP room, maybe, but out here in the middle of all these people? Someone would notice!

You tried to squeak out a plea to stop, but Bakugou’s hand around your throat stopped any little sound from slipping out. Instead, your hips were pulled forward and snug against Kirishima’s, one of his legs between yours so that you were practically sitting on his thigh. But that wasn’t where your hips were directed. Instead, with the beat of the music, Kirishima rutted his hips against you, and you could easily feel the hard presence of his cock against your scantily clothed sex. He was wearing loose black joggers, so there was basically nothing between you, and with both men surrounding you completely and still moving with the music, there was no hope of someone noticing.

Needing to ground yourself, you clutched on to both of Kirishima’s biceps, his hands set firmly on your hips. The digging of your nails into his skin only seemed to spur him on further, becoming rougher with his thrusts, and the more he stroked across your clit, the more you began to lose yourself. It felt so good, even though you knew that it shouldn’t. It was Bakugou all over again, fucking your throat raw as your essence dripped down your thighs, just as it was now. Kirishima was using you for his own gratification, and Bakugou was allowing it. This wasn’t okay.

You clenched your eyes shut tightly as Bakugou’s hands moved to caress your breasts, squeezing them roughly and eagerly pinching your nipples. You heard him groan in your ear, his attention to your nipples increasing as he noticed the little studs in place. “Oh fuck, babygirl, I didn’t know you had piercings here, too. I’m an idiot for not stripping you in the changing room, but I’m not going to make that mistake tonight.”

His teeth sinking into the skin of your neck and another harsh twist made your body jolt, a moan involuntarily slipping through your lips. Before it could get far, it was devoured by Kirishima, who kissed you passionately to silence you.

What should I do? It feels good, but… I didn’t want Kirishima like this!

A rough nibble to your lip forced your mouth open, unable to stop or resist Kirishima's tongue from invading. He tasted like weed and the sour sting of an energy drink still on his lips, but that isn’t what made you want to pull away. Was he… a better kisser than Bakugou? No one could be better than the blonde behind you… at anything! And yet, here Kirishima was, making you completely breathless and absolutely on fire. It wasn’t so brash or dominating, either.

You loved it. A lot.

A moan leaked through the kiss as Bakugou moved his lips to your ear, running his tongue along the shell of it before nibbling harshly at the delicate skin below. “You like his cock rubbing up against you, baby? You like being pinned between us like the little desperate whore you are?”

Kirishima finally released your lips, giving you a chance to take in deep trembling breaths. “Yes, Katsuki! But I— “

“What?”

“I really have to pee!”

Both men paused with your proclamation, watching your face in confusion as you stood there trembling in their grip. You hadn’t been lying, and it was clear as day in your flushed face. You needed to go to the restroom. If you didn’t, you knew there would be an accident all over yourself and the two men that held you.

“You’re serious?” Kirishima spoke loudly enough so you could hear him, and you nodded with urgency. After glancing at Bakugou, he took a step back, awkwardly trying to make his boner mostly invisible behind his joggers. “Okay. I’d rather you not piss all over.”

Bakugou turned your head towards him, his glare immediately making your legs feel weak. “He’ll take you upstairs. I’m going to get more drinks and meet you up there. You better not be using this as an excuse, or I’ll have to punish you.”

“I-it’s not, Katsuki, I promise- mmph!” You were silenced as he kissed your lips roughly, his frustration at having to stop apparent. Then, with a rough tap to your ass, you were urged forward and into Kirishima’s arms. You didn’t get a chance to glance back at Bakugou as you were led through the crowd, Kirishima using his height and size to easily push through and bump people out of the way without too much inconvenience to you. Much to your surprise, he was quite attentive of you, pulling you out of the way of wild swinging arms and keeping a firm grip on you in case you were tripped by stray feet.

By the time you finally reached the stairs, you were completely worn out and feeling like your bladder was about to erupt. Still, you made it up the stairs and into the singular bathroom before you could piss yourself, and as you sat on the toilet, you could truly feel how intoxicated you were. You weren’t sure if your mind was spinning from the alcohol, the weed, or the incredible rush that you had felt on the dancefloor. You could feel, however, that you were incredibly sweaty, your hair sticking to your forehead, cheeks and the back of your neck like it was glued to your skin. Though, the wetness at your cunt and spread across your inner thighs was even worse.

You couldn’t believe that you had gotten so wet and turned on from what they had done to you. Even your pathetic excuse for underwear was completely soaked through, your essence thick and visible on the black fabric. The way they had cornered you like that wasn’t something that should have excited you so much, yet here you were, trembling and dripping wet. And now, you were caught up here in this room with Kirishima. Who knows how long it might take Bakugou to get the drinks, since the bar was incredibly busy and it had taken nearly fifteen minutes to get yours earlier.

With a defeated sigh, you wiped and decided to clean yourself up the best you could, even patting your underwear with toilet paper. In the end, the attempt wasn’t very successful, and you almost wanted to rip them back off the instant you pulled them back up to your hips.

After washing your hands and spending a few minutes fixing your hair and wiping your face and neck of sweat, you left the restroom, finding Kirishima standing near the coffee table with the weed pipe in his hands. He gave you a comforting smile as you approached, taking a hit and blowing the smoke away from you. “Feel better, sweetheart?”

“Yes… Uhm… Why did-”

“Want another hit?” Kirishima interrupted you, as if he knew exactly what you were about to ask and wanted to avoid it while he could. “You’re more relaxed now, you’ll get it this time. It’ll calm your nerves, too. You’re trembling like a leaf, babe.”

“I’m… not sure.”

“You don’t want Bakugou to see you all nervous and uptight, do you?”

The tone of his voice instantly made your stomach twist, able to hear the slightest twinge of a threat mixed in with the worried question. Of course you didn’t want Bakugou to see you like this. You had just been so peppy and energetic down on the dancefloor, he would surely be annoyed if you grew so timid all the sudden. So, without a word, you took the pipe and lighter, doing everything you could to ignore the twist at the corner of his lips.

Letting out a trembling breath, you brought the pipe to your lips, able to inhale, hold, and exhale without any urges to cough outside of a slight clearing of your throat. Chuckling, Kirishima took the pipe and lighter from you, setting them down again. “See! Look at you! A natural.”

“It’s stronger this time.”

“Yeah, I cleaned it out and prepped it again while you were in the restroom.” As he spoke, you made your way over to the front of the room, looking out of the glass and down at the bar, scanning for the blonde you had left behind. It didn’t take you long to see him, sitting on a stool as he awaited the delivery of the drinks. Though, you instantly felt heat rush to your fluttering stomach, surprised to see that he was already staring up at you. You couldn’t see his expression, but you could almost feel the icy daggers of his glare on your skin. In fact, your entire body was tingling, your mind growing dull while your body felt like every inch of you was being lightly pricked with needles. It was as if you could feel everything. Your hair tickling the back of your neck. Your dress tight against your chest. Your hot and wet underwear clung tightly against your folds and your clit.

“Find him?” Kirishima nearly startled you enough to make you jump as he came to stand beside you, looking around curiously at all the activity below. “He sticks out like a sore thumb, doesn’t he? Ah, there! He’s already looking up here, too. He’s so into you, babe.”

“He is…?”

“Oh yeah. And I can see why.” One of his large hands came to rest against your lower back, stepping in a bit closer to you. “You’re so cute and timid. Obedient.” His hand began to travel down along the curve of your ass, the slight sting of your welts from earlier making you tense and nibble at your lower lip. “Sexy. It’s hard to keep my hands off you.”

“Katsuki might… get upset if you do anything when he’s not here.” You clutched at the bottom of your dress, trying to keep it down in the front while Kirishima slowly pulled it up from the back.

“Oh you’re right, he might. Then you’d better not do anything to let him notice, hm? He’s watching us, after all.” His hand began to stroke along your ass, groping and squeezing with a firm grip. “Damn, you have a nice ass.”

A small squeak escaped your lips as two if his fingers slipped between your cheeks, rubbing your sex on the outside of your underwear. “Kiri… I’m… I don’t want to without Katsuki here.”

“You sure about that? ‘Cause your wet pussy is telling me otherwise.” With aggressive movements that made you involuntarily take a step closer to the glass, Kirishima moved his hand into your underwear. Without skipping a beat, his middle and ring fingers slid into your wet cunt with ease, forcing a sweet gasp from your lips. “Oh fuck, you’re tight. It’s no wonder Bakugou’s already obsessed after only fucking you once.”

He began to move his fingers in and out of you, slowly dragging along your inner walls, being sure to keep them curved at just the right angle. Each time he dug them into you, he pressed right into your most sensitive areas, making your entire body tingle and soft moans escape your lips. Though, just as you were about to lean forward and stick your ass out for him, he gave a small hiss in warning.

“Don’t move, sweetheart. You want him to notice?” He quickened his pace, as if he were trying to get you to give yourself away. Resting his body against the glass using one arm to prop himself up, he appeared completely casual. Since he was turned slightly towards you, he could use this angle for better leverage, digging his fingers into you faster and deeper. “But it’s not just him. Everyone down there can see us.”

From down below, you were sure that there wasn’t anything suspicious about the two of you, and keeping that facade was completely up to you. Even so, how sensitive your body felt, and the pleasure was already beginning to make your legs weak, so you had to press your hand against the glass to support yourself. Your panting breaths fogged up the clear surface now that you were so close to it, even able to feel your hard nipples rub against the cold. It was so much stimulation so fast that you weren’t sure how long you were going to be able to hold out.

Whining as you bit down on your bottom lip, you clenched your eyes shut tightly, digging your nails against the glass. “Kiri… please… He’ll notice!”

“I wonder what he’ll do, then.” He began to alternate between fingering you and rubbing your clit, nearly crippling what little hold you had left on yourself. “He’d punish you, for sure, but I wonder how? Maybe he’ll spank that pretty ass until you’re crying. Or edge you over and over. Or not give you anything at all.”

“I… please--” A moan cut you off as you began to feel yourself growing closer and closer to your release, placing both of your hands against the glass, now. “Please, I can’t hold it!”

“Going to cum already? Let’s change it up a bit, then.”

For a split second, you thought that he was going to completely stop as he removed his fingers from your aching and trembling cunt. Instead, you were met with a jolt of shock through your core as both of his fingers moved to your asshole, beginning to press into you without any warning. You couldn’t stop your hips from arching back towards his hand, your upper body and forehead firmly against the glass. “K-Kiri-!”

“Ooh, looks like someone like their ass filled up, hm? What a shame Bakugou didn’t play with you here, that little squeak you just made was adorable.” His fingers slid into you up to his knuckles, bending and flexing them apart to make you moan and wiggle. “That’s it, sweetheart. You like your ass fucked?”

“Y-yes,” you forced your eyes open, looking back down at Bakugou through the dark and flashing neon lights. He was still watching you, but there was something else. With the cover of the dark and his hips turned towards the counter, you could see him palming himself between his legs. Could he tell what was happening? Was he really getting off on it? “Kiri… I think he can tell- ah! Fuck!” Your voice cracked as he began to move his fingers within you, moving at an even quicker and more aggressive pace than he had been before.

“He can? Well fuck, sweetheart, that means so can all the other people down there.” Kirishima moved in closer, pressing his lips against your flushed cheek, his smirk wide and eyes gleaming with enjoyment. “Can you feel their eyes on you? Watching you get off on me fingering your ass like the good little slut you are. You like being watched, don’t you?”

“I… I don’t want them all to see me! But Katsuki is… he’s watching…”

“That’s right. He’s watching while I get to play with you. He’s so jealous he can’t help but watch, just waiting for his chance. You like that, don’t you?”

“Yes… Yes, I like him watching me.” Your body began to rock with his movements, the pleasure building back up rapidly. “Just to know that Katsuki wants me so bad… It makes me so hot!” You couldn’t stop your voice as your hips arched further back, trembling legs spreading a bit. “Please! Please let me cum, Kiri! I want to cum while he watches me!”

“Yeah, babe, cum all over my fingers. That’s it.” The encouraging grumble of his voice in your ear and the increased speed of his fingers within you immediately made you lose it, gasping and moaning against the glass as you struggled to stay up on your feet. The waves of pleasure that crashed over you were so intense, much more than you had ever felt just from a little assplay, but you didn’t care to try to rationalize why.

“What a good girl.” Kirishima pressed his lips against your cheek in a playful kiss, removing his fingers and giving your backend a few light smacks. “How about we sit down for a while, hm? You need to relax a bit before Bakugou gets back up here.”

Pushing yourself up off the glass, you didn’t think about looking for Bakugou again before you followed him over towards the couches on weak legs. You could still feel the remnants of your orgasm pulsing through your body, the slickness that you had wiped away in the bathroom once again coating your thighs and further soaking your underwear. His large, rough fingers had felt so good inside you, and although he had allowed you to cum, you were feeling severely unsatisfied and just all around… needy? Was that the right word to use? You wanted them to touch you, to hold and to praise you. But for now, it seemed as if Kirishima was perfectly content to wait a while, leaving you standing by the couches as he flopped to sit, resting back against the armrest with his legs up casually on the cushions.

Nearly immediately, your dizzy gaze landed on the very obvious form of his cock beneath his joggers, reminding you immediately of what he had done to you on the dancefloor. Now that you could see it, your stomach fluttered with curiosity and interest, making you crave to have his cock in your hands. Walking over casually, you ignored his curious look as you took a moment to take off your shoes, before settling onto the couch between his legs. For the first time, you saw his cheeks flush, obviously having not expected you to suddenly be so handsy as you palmed along the hard length of his cock.

“What’s up, sweetheart? Can’t wait?”

“You’re… bigger than Katsuki?”

Your question was met with a chuckle, Kirishima’s grin breaking his face as he allowed you to touch him. “Don’t let him hear you admit that. Not by much, but yeah, sure. Take a look.”

With his permission, you pulled his pants down just enough to allow his cock to spring free, a shocked squeak nearly escaping your throat at the sight of him. It was true, he wasn’t any longer than Bakugou, but his girth was much more impressive. His flushed tip was pierced just as Bakugou’s had been, but he sported a bar through the underside of the blushing head that you recognized as a prince albert. For a moment, you wondered if all the band members had their dicks pierced, but that thought was quickly pushed to the back of your mind as his cock gave an impatient twitch.

Without much consideration of the consequences, you took it into your hands, beginning to lightly pump and spread his precum around the tip and down his shaft. Kirishima gave a relieved sigh at your touch, resting one arm behind his head so he could relax and watch you. “Ah fuck… that’s it, nice and slow. Why don’t you spit on it a little, huh?”

Leaning forward, you passionately rolled your tongue around his tip, before pulling back a bit and allowing your saliva to flow freely, using your hand to spread it down his length. The groan he gave made a smile creep across your lips as you sat back up from him, using both of your hands to stroke his cock with a firmer grip. “How’s that?”

“Incredible. Fuck, babe… Let me see those pretty tits, huh?”

Since your dress had low cut sleeves to begin with, it was easy for you to slip your arms out of them, before pulling the fabric down to expose your breasts to him. Not wearing a bra, they slipped easily from the tight dress, revealing your hard nipples and cute jeweled piercings. Leaning forward a bit closer to him, you continued to stroke his cock with the soft plushness of your chest around him, watching his face closely for any sign of approval. His usually smug or cheerful expression was hazed over with lust, crimson eyes watching your every move. He looked so cute and innocent, just like the man you had always seen on social media, and you loved that you had reduced him back to being his softer self just with a touch and a flash of your tits.

Scooting your hips back a bit and propping yourself up on your knees, you leaned in and took him fully into your mouth, starting with just a sweet tease to his tip before taking him all the way down to the base. Kirishima immediately groaned and tensed beneath you, his large hand coming down to rest on the back of your head, gathering up your hair to keep it out of the way for you. “Oh fuck, damn it! Look at you, taking my cock so well. Such a good girl-”

Suddenly, the sound of the door opening startled you both and you nearly gagged from the sudden pressure Kirishima put on the back of your head. Unable to move and unable to see, all you could do was listen to the booming voice from behind you while you tried to find some room to breathe with the cock down your throat.

“You horny fuckers couldn’t even wait until I got back?” Bakugou’s voice was followed by the sound of the door slamming shut, along with the click of the lock. “I spend all that fucking time down there getting drinks for us and you decide to fool around without me?!”

“Hey man, I didn’t start this! She wanted to suck my dick herself. Oh shit, sorry, sweetheart!” Kirishima released your head as you whined and wiggled to try and get yourself free, allowing you to come up. Coughing, you glowered up at Kirishima as you placed a hand over your throat, spitting the excess saliva that had gathered in your mouth onto his cock in retaliation.

“Oh did she?” Bakugou came up behind you, putting the drinks down on the table before taking a hold of your hair and pulling you back so you were looking up at him. “And what about that little show you put on against the windows? Whose idea was that?”

Your face flushed, stomach bubbling nervously as your fears that he could tell were confirmed. And yet, you only grew hotter, biting down onto your bottom lip as you peered up at him though your lashes. For a moment, you considered lying and saying that you had started it all, just to see what he would do, but the ever honest Kirishima spoke up first.

“I couldn’t help it, man. She has a nice ass. But I didn’t tell her to act all obvious, she just couldn’t control herself.”

“That’s because she’s nothing but a slut.” Still using his grip on your hair, Bakugou forced you back down so that your lips were pressed against the wet tip of Kirishima’s cock, not giving you any other choice but to open your mouth and take him in. Again, your head was forced all the way down to his pelvis, your nose pressing against his skin. As you whined, your eyes began to tear up from the pressure and uncomfortable presence deep in your throat, digging your nails into Kirishima’s hips to try and stop him from shifting beneath you.

Struggling to breathe through your nose, you could feel your dress being pushed up around your hips, Bakugou’s free hand gripping your ass and spreading you open with no regard for the stinging welts he had left earlier that night. “Fuck, what the hell are these? Did you expect to get fucked tonight, baby?” His rough fingers stroked along your lace panties, before pulling them down away from your hips and to your thighs. “Look how fucking wet you are, too. Did that moron make you cum?”

When he released your head, you pulled up slowly, gazing up at Kirishima to watch his flushed face and listen to his groans. Once your lips left him, you didn’t bother to spit or clean up the thick saliva and precum that dribbled from your tongue, using it to instead stroke him firmly with both hands. “Yes, Katsuki,” You choked out through your sore throat, arching your hips further up as Bakugou gripped your ass with both hands, spreading you open to watch your twitching cunt. “He made me cum while you watched. While the whole club could see.”

“Did you like that I was watching?” Bakugou ran his thumb in slow circles against your clit. “Did that get you off, you nasty fuck?”

“Mm, yes-” Your pace quickened, almost hypnotized by the way Kirishima reacted to your touch as Bakugou teased you. “I loved it.”

“And how did he make you cum, huh?” The sound of a zipper and shifting clothing was lost behind his voice and the pounding in your ears. As your lips pressed against the tip of Kirishima’s cock to prepare to take him again, a moan interrupted you, your hips arching back up into Bakugou’s touch as two of his fingers slipped into your wet pussy. “Did he finger your slutty cunt?”

“Yes,” Spurred on by the pleasure, you ran your tongue up and down along Kirishima’s throbbing shaft, your free hand pushing his joggers further down out of the way so you could cup and massage his balls. Kirishima gave a grunt, reaching down to dig his fingers into your hair again.

“C’mon, sweetheart, tell him the truth.”

“The truth? Tch, I bet I know what he did.” Removing his fingers from within you, they both slid up to your asshole, sinking in with ease and making your entire body shudder with a moan. “Your ass, huh? I should have fucking known. Fine, then.” Shifting his hips closer, you could feel the presence of his cock between your cheeks when he removed his hand, gripping your hips instead. “Let me fill up this slutty little hole for you.”

Before you could truly ground yourself, the tip of his thick cock slipped into your asshole with just as much ease as his fingers, forcing a sharp gasp from your lips. Biting down onto your bottom lip as he sunk in inch by inch, you buried your face into Kirishima’s pelvis, your entire body trembling. Just as before, his size was more than you had ever taken before in either hole, and he left you feeling full and breathless.

“K-Katsuki--!”

“That’s right, babygirl. Moan my fucking name.” With a rough snap of his hips to start his quick pace, you cried out against Kirishima’s skin, your hand leaving his cock to instead dig your nails into his toned stomach. “How’s my fat cock feel, huh? Stretching your tight asshole-- ah fuck, baby!” As you constricted around him in response to the pleasure and his filthy mouth, he only fucked you faster and harder, his balls slapping against your clit and sending jolts of hot white pleasure through your body.

For a while, you were completely engrossed in the feeling of his cock inside you, until a smack of Kirishima’s cock to your cheek reminded you that he was still here, too. Although it was nearly impossible for you to hold back your voice, you sat up and took his cock into your mouth again, using the pleasure to push yourself harder to please him more aggressively.

“Ah shit! Damn!” Kirishima once again gripped onto your head, but with both hands this time. “Wait, wait! Hold still-” Using his grip on your head, he shifted his legs a bit, using new leverage to begin thrusting his hips up to fuck your mouth at his own pace. Completely at their mercy, you supported yourself with your arms against the couch, your eyes once again tearing up from the rough throat fucking and pleasure abusing your mind. The moans and filthy, lewd wet noises that came from your mouth were uncontrollable, as was the saliva and tears that coated Kirishima’s cock.

It was painful.

It was hot.

It was an absolute dream.

And yet, you wanted more. You wanted these men to completely destroy you, to leave you as nothing but a twitching mess leaking their cum.

“Want to swallow my cum, sweetheart?”

With Kirishima’s question, you found the chance to try and get your way, giving a miniscule shake of your head as you reached up to try and push his hands off you. Bakugou scoffed, not letting up on his pace.

“The fuck? Just cum, don’t ask her-”

“Shut up, man, she’s trying to say something,” Allowing you up off his cock, you took a moment to cough, which was difficult behind your urge to moan and gasp in air.

“I want both of your cocks inside me!” You finally choked out when you had a chance, gazing up at Kirishima with your flushed, teary and begging expression. “Please fill me up with both of your cocks! I need them!” A squeak escaped your lips as Bakugou grabbed you by the arms, pulling you up against his chest as his hand wrapped around your neck.

“Beg harder,” He growled in your ear, one hand gripping your breast as he fucked you harder. For a moment, your mind went blank with the pleasure, unsure of what you had even wanted outside of Bakugou’s dick buried so deep inside of you. The pleasure in your core was near cracking, and as you looked down at Kirishima to see him pumping his own cock at the sight of you being ruined, it only spiked higher.

“I want you to both fuck me! Please! Please, Katsuki, I’m begging you! I-- aah, fuck! Fuck!” Leaning your head back, it wasn’t another second before you came hard, your body tensing in his grip and rocking back against his hips as they also came to a stop from how hard you squeezed around him. Giving a low growl in satisfaction, Bakugou held your body tightly back against him, digging his cock as deep into you as he could get with a light bucking of his hips.

“Oh fuck, babygirl, that’s it. Such a naughty bitch, cumming from being fucked in the ass like that. And you still want more, huh?” Bakugou spoke low in your ear, and although you were beyond high on the release, you found it within yourself to nod.

Smirking against your cheek, Bakugou removed his cock from you. “Fine then.” While you were still trying to regain control of your dizzy mind, he gave you a rough nudge, forcing your weak and trembling body to fall forward onto Kirishima. The redhead caught you by the arms to help you steady yourself, giving an annoyed huff as he guided you up to straddle his hips.

“Watch it, man! She could have crushed my dick, then I’d be outta luck!”

“Shut the fuck up. I’m sick of waiting, if you don’t get a move on, I’m kicking your fucking ass out of here.”

“Boys, boys.” You pushed yourself up on your arms so you were balanced on all fours, smiling down at Kirishima through your lustful haze. “There’s no need to argue.” Reaching down between your bodies, you took hold of Kirishima’s cock, holding it steady as you ran your dripping wet sex along it, teasing your sensitive clit. “I’m here for you both to use me. As much as you want.” Looking back over your shoulder, you caught Bakugou’s glare, though it quickly flicked back down to your hips as you began to lower yourself down onto Kirishima’s cock, letting him slip into your pussy slowly. “You like watching, Katsuki?”

Bakugou scoffed, his face flushing. “You’d better fucking watch it, whore. Don’t forget who owns your stupid ass.”

“But I love it when you watch me,” You let out an airy moan as Kirishima filled you up all the way to the base, not leaving a single inch of you untouched. “Just to know that I turn you on so much without even having to touch you. Even if it’s another man… Even if it’s Kiri’s fat cock inside me. It makes me so happy, Katsuki.” Steading yourself with your hands against Kirishima’s stomach, you began to roll your hips, sighing and cursing softly from the pleasure. “Fuck, so big! Both of your cocks are so big and perfect!”

As Kirishima gripped onto your hips tightly, he was immediately taken over by the euphoria he felt being buried so deep within your wet pussy, using his strength to guide your body to start bouncing on his cock instead. “That’s it, sweetheart. Fuck, your pussy is so tight!” It wasn’t another few seconds before he couldn’t resist thrusting his hips up into you, holding you steady as he ravaged your wet and clenching cunt at his own pace. He was hard and rough, slamming into you like a man starved, desperate for the pleasure and release he craved. “You’re such a perfect little slut.”

Now forced to lean forward, weak arms propping you up on either side of his body, you allowed him to fuck you as he wished, each slam of his tip against your cervix blurring your vision with white sparks of pleasure. The way his thick cock filled you up and his piercing rubbed against your inner walls was building up your pleasure so rapidly that your body became completely weak, arms collapsing under you until you were laying on his chest. Somehow, you found the mental focus to look over your shoulder, your body flushing hotter at the sight of Bakugou eagerly pumping his own cock, his glare locked on the way that Kirishima was using you.

“Ka- Katsuki,” You choked out through your moans, doing everything you could to keep hold of your mind for just a moment longer. “Please watch me while I cum! Please! A-ah! Kiri, w-wait, I--!” As the redhead grew rougher with you, there wasn’t anything you could do to hold back the pleasure any longer, and your orgasm ripped through your body like a spark of lightning, making your entire body tense and tremble. “Fuck! Fucking hell, that fat cock is so fucking good!”

“Damn right it is, sweetheart.” Kirishima landed a hard smack to your currently unmarked asscheek. “You like being fucked by big cocks?”

“Yes… I’ve never had cocks like this though…” You turned your face more into the skin of his chest, ignoring the sweat and drool. “Both of you… So perfect…”

“We aren’t even done with you yet, sweetheart.” Taking hold of your ass in both hands, Kirishima spread you open, addressing the blond that still sat behind you, who was oddly quiet and patient. “C’mon, man. Let’s give her what she really wants.”

For a moment, you felt embarrassed at the fact that Kirishima was holding your cheeks apart, your pussy still stuffed with his cock and your asshole twitching in anticipation. Looking over your shoulder again, you caught Bakugou’s gaze, the pleading expression in your eyes instantly bringing a wicked and excited smirk to his lips. That initial embarrassment spiked, holding your breath as Bakugou came in closer, taking over the task of holding your ass open.

The tip of his cock, hot and blushing with the need for his own release, teased your tight, unoccupied hole, the feeling of his frenum piercing rolling across your skin bringing a whimper from your throat. You wanted it so much that it was nearly painful to have to wait like this. You felt powerless in the situation, only able to wait for them to decide to begin, and the anticipation was making your stomach flutter and roll. The butterflies escaped your lips with the sound of a small plea, barely audible even by you, but Bakugou was quick to take notice.

“What’s that, babygirl?”

“P-please…” You pushed the word out with your strangled breath, still watching him from over your shoulder. “Please don’t make me keep waiting!” You bit down onto your bottom lip as his thumb rolled over the waiting hole, teasingly dipping it in to the first knuckle. “Mm... Katsuki--” A sharp gasp escaped your lips as he landed a rough spank to your already bruised and abused cheek from earlier that night in the dressing room, the spike of pain making your body tense. Kirishima groaned and wiggled beneath you, his hips bucking lightly impatiently as your core squeezed tightly around him in reaction to the pain.

“Aah fuck! Shit, sweetheart, don’t squeeze so tight like that, it’s hard enough not to fuck your brains out right now.”

“What’s the matter? She’s too tight for ya?” Bakugou landed another hard, full palmed smack to your ass, forcing a sharp moan from your lips and your tensing body bringing Kirishima into another series of squirming. “I’m surprised you’re still in this, you’re usually a two-pump chump!” Then, the instant your body calmed, he shoved his entire length into you in one fell swoop, his hips meeting with the red plushness of your ass. “Fuck… How can she be such a perfect little slut?”

The sudden feeling of being so full knocked all the air out of your lungs, your back arching to try to accommodate them both, digging your nails into the fabric of the couch. Your mind was so overwhelmed with the pressure that you could barely hear Kirishima snapping back at Bakugou for the insult he had given him, only hearing the sound of his voice without comprehending words. They were both buried so deep inside you that you worried you might split apart if they started moving, and with that realization, another came to the front of your dizzy mind.

You’ve never had two dicks inside you at the same time.

Never.

With how excited and desperate you had been for it, the men must have assumed that you had and weren’t going to go easy on you. You wanted to speak, to say anything to tell them the truth, but you found it nearly impossible to pull enough air into your lungs to speak. They were about to absolutely ruin you, and you wondered in that moment if you’d be able to take it, or if you’d beg for mercy with the first thrust.

It was Kirishima who moved first, thrusting his hips upwards slow and shallow, forcing a cry from your throat and your eyes to clench shut, hiding in his chest. “Shh, sweetheart, we got you.” Since Bakugou was holding onto your hips, Kirishima’s hands were free to caress you, one on your side and the other on the back of your head. With his tender touch, however, came longer strokes of his cock inside you, the overwhelming presence pushing tears from behind your closed eyelids. “Just breathe.”

Bakugou, however, was not as merciful. He picked up on Kirishima’s rhythm, pulling himself all the way out to the tip before plunging back into your tense and constricting asshole. Bakugou hissed, digging his fingers into your plush hips, his blunt nails stinging your skin. “Fucking hell, babygirl, you’re just sucking me right in. Damn-!” A groan escaped him as he picked up his pace, your body starting to rock between them as the skin of his pelvis slapped against your red and abused cheeks.

“A-ah, Katsuki-!” You nearly screamed out in shock, though your face was still buried into Kirishima’s chest. “Not so fast! Please!”

“Oh no, babe. You begged for this. We’re giving you exactly what you asked for.”

As if picking up on a cue, Kirishima also increased his pace, until they were both thrusting into you as deep as they could possibly get, hard and fast. Though, with their increased pace came a new feeling washing over you, pushing past the dull, uncomfortable pain. They were filling up every inch of you, caressing you and staying as perfectly in sync as they could, doing everything they could to pleasure you. And that was all you could feel.

The pleasure.

It pulsed through every inch of you like shockwaves, sending it rocketing up your body and down your limbs. There was no other word that you could think of to describe it besides “perfect”, and you knew that there would never be another set of men in your entire life that could make you feel this way. That could use you like this, making you feel so vulnerable yet adored at the same time. No matter the reason, these two men who you loved dearly, wanted you.

And damn, you were happy.

“Fuck, yes-!” You finally choked out, finding a smidgen of strength to allow you to prop yourself up on your elbows. Still, your head hung slack, your tear-filled eyes rolled up and mouth open with unending moans. “Your cocks feel so good inside me!”

“There she is,” Deep groan reverberating in his chest from your encouragement, Bakugou increased his place, giving you another firm slap on the ass. “That’s right, you slut. Now tell me who you belong to.”

“You! You, Katsuki-!”

“-And?”

“-Kiri! I belong to both of you! I’m your little slut, please do whatever you want with me! Just please don’t stop, I want to feel your cum inside me!”

If you were honest, you weren’t sure how long they ravaged you like this. You came again, before your body was just too overly stimulated, and all you could do was lay there against Kirishima’s chest, moaning and trembling constantly. There wasn’t a rational or clear thought in your head, only able to focus on their dicks inside you, and their increasingly loud moans and grunts.

They were getting close.

“Fucking shit-” Bakugou was barely able to get the curse out before his hips began to shutter, his thrusts becoming erratic and shallow until he released inside of you, the hot feeling of his cum pulling you back into full consciousness. You peeked at him over your shoulder the best you could through your wild hair, finding his flushed, sweaty, and satisfied image endearing. You felt so empty with his exit, but you didn’t have much time to focus on that, as Kirishima immediately scooped you up and flipped you both over so you were beneath him.

Smirk on his lips, he bent your legs back up to your chest, his pace and depth only increasing and sending you into another round of incoherent moans.

“That’s it, sweetheart. I want to see that pretty face when I fill you up with my cum.”

Clutching onto his arms tightly, your nails dug into his biceps as your eyes stayed locked on the way his hips moved, almost hypnotized by the sight of his cock slamming in and out of your abused cunt. The veiny girth that was absolutely coated in your slick found no resistance, and with this new visual paired with the feeling of rapid dragging along your clenching walls, you could feel another orgasm peaking fast. “K-Kiri-!”

“Going to cum on my fat cock again, huh? Go on- Ah, oh fuck-!” A hiss escaped through his teeth as you came, your entire body quivering, cunt clenching around him and head leaning back. Your moans hitched and shook uncontrollably, unsure of exactly how loud you were as your mind fogged over with the endless waves of pleasure paired with the new heat that flooded your core with Kirishima’s release. The redhead that pinned you down was rough with his release, his hips rutting against yours with sharp snaps and deep grinding, which only prolonged your release until you were nothing but a limp, trembling mess.

“Look at you. You’re so damn pretty.” Kirishima’s voice barely registered in your mind, as did the clicking sound of a phone taking pictures. “Bakugou, come hold her legs back.”

Your teary gaze landed on Bakugou as he came to stand near your head, taking your calves into his hands and pulling them back so you were further contorted. With the movement, Kirishima removed his cock from within you, leaving you feeling incredibly empty, though the heat of his cum leaking out of you was very noticeable. With a whine as your knees were pressed on either side of your head, you weakly gripped onto Bakugou’s hands, looking up at him with exhausted, innocent curiosity. Fluffy blonde hair stuck to his face that was coated with sweat, Bakugou smirked down at you, glancing over every inch of your body.

“Fuck babygirl, you should see yourself. You’re a mess.”

You swallowed hard against your dry and aching throat, smiling softly as your hand traveled up and down his forearm tenderly. “All… all for you.” The sound of the phone's camera going off finally got your attention and you looked at Kirishima instead, your stomach fluttering nervously at the sight of him snapping pictures of your body. “P-pictures…?”

“I’ve never seen a pussy this pretty, sweetheart. And it’s just dripping with my jizz… Your ass is, too, with your cheeks all fucking red from Bakugou spanking you. You’re a damn masterpiece, baby. I should have recorded this whole thing.” Obviously filming now, Kirishima ran his thumb from your asshole up along your cunt and to your clit, dragging the mess of cum with him. After a few teasing rolls of your clit, he brought his thumb up to your mouth, not even having to say a word before you opened wide to suck the digit clean. “Damn that’s hot.”

“Save that recording shit for later. There will be plenty to shoot back at the hotel. Right, babygirl?” Bakugou released your legs, allowing you to close them and rest them comfortably to the side. Once your mouth was free of Kirishima’s fingers, you licked your lips, eyes locked on your celebrity crush as he gazed down at you expectantly.

Any rational thought that should have peaked in your mind was smothered by a screaming need to stay with him, to do whatever he wanted just so that you could be in his presence for as long as possible. Before you knew it, you were up on trembling knees, turning to face him and timidly clutching on tightly to the front of his shirt. “Yes, Katsuki. Anything you want.”

“That’s right,” Bakugou pulled you in closer, latching his arms around your torso and kissing you with a gentle passion that sent your heart racing. “You’ll do anything for me.”

“And for me.” Kirishima came up to press himself against your back, his hands tightly on your hips as he kissed your cheek playfully. You couldn’t resist a soft giggle from escaping your lips, both of your arms wrapping around Bakugou’s torso tightly.

“Mm, yes! Anything for both of you-”

KNOCK KNOCK

“Hey, are you three done in there yet!? Hurry up! We have girls and more drinks, and I have to piss!”

“The couches better still be clean!”

Kirishima chuckled, releasing you with a final pat to your backside before hopping up and fixing his clothes back into proper place. “Shit, sorry, just a sec!”

Bakugou, however, didn’t bother responding to them, kissing you again tenderly while pulling your dress back down to cover your hips. “I hope you’re ready, babygirl.”

“For what?”

“The afterparty is just getting started. I hope that partying with your favorite band will be everything you ever dreamed of.”

“As long as I get to be close to you, Katsuki, I’ll do anything. Anything at all.”

“That’s my good girl.”

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stubbedbakutoes · 4 years

Text

Promise Ring

Bakugou accidentally slips up amidst an argument with (y/n). The question now is, does he feel guilty? at all?

pairing: asshole!bakugou x fem reader

word count: 2.1k

genre: angst (i advise grabbing some tissues before proceeding with caution mwahaha)

part 2

masterlist

Whilst his hands held up the ring in the glistening light of the gradually rising sun, her movements halted, thankful she was mere seconds away from having the hot liquid in her mouth because she would more than likely be spluttering and coughing at the shock of what he had just said. Bakugou darted his eyes away from hers, because he’s embarrassed.

But then he’s just looking back at her again. Because he couldn’t not look at her. He licked his suddenly dry as hell lips, shrugging a shoulder.

“Fell for you hard and I don’t want this to just be some fling that we’ll get over in a few weeks.” The blush was rising on his cheeks and she found this self-conscious side of him adorable.

“Kacchan!” She kicked his shin under the table. “You’re asking me to marry you?” She asked slowly.

“No!” He scoffed playfully, which soon turned into a laugh when she squealed out something along the lines of ‘Don’t look so disgusted! how was I supposed to react to that, huh?’ “I mean, you’ve had my dick in your mouth, I'd say we’re pretty committed at this poi-.”

“But you’re really not proposing?” She cut him off, not wanting to hear anything from his vulgar mouth anymore.

“Shut up.” He chuckled, mindlessly playing footsie with her under the table. “I’m serious about it though.”

“Marrying me?”

Bakugou sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as a smile played on his lips, “About how we’re past the honeymoon stage.”

“What’s that?” Lifting her mug of tea for the second time, she finally took her first sip of what was always a good cup of morning coffee when made by someone else, specifically Bakugou.

“You know... That period at the beginning of the relationship when everything goes well and is free of problems.”

“Aside from arguing whether the toilet seat cover should stay up or not?”

Bakugou smiled fondly at her. “Sure.”

Their grins were far too wide and cheesy for this early in the morning but the feeling of giddiness they felt inside was too much to conceal and, without any further word on the subject, the rest of breakfast was served so the two could quiet down their grumbling stomach like a proper non-fling-type couple.

(y/n)’s trying the ring on her fingers, and when it only fits on her fourth finger (like he’d hoped), Y/N’s looking back at him. “I care about you too.” She smiled reassuringly. “And to prove it,” She began, stabbing a portion of Bakugou’s food with a fork. “I’ll have this piece of your pancake, thank you very much.”

“Where’s the correlation?”

“I just wanted to steal some food from you, sorry.”

“You’re not very good at being sly, aren’t you?” Bakugou giggled, playing with the matching ring on his pinky finger. “ I just. I love you, you know? And, like. I know we’re still young, so it’s obviously not an engagement ring. I like to consider it a promise. Something to keep your finger warm till I get you a proper ring.”

“—so now what? You just wait for me to leave so you can— what? Cheat on me?!” Bakugou slammed his open palm down on the wooden table, eyes alit with a fury so strong that even (y/n)'s terrified because she's never, ever, seen him this angry before. She's had fights with him before, of course she has, they've been together for over three years, but she's never seen him this determined to win an argument– to the extent that if they were in a cartoon show, he'd probably have smoke puffing out of either side of his ears.

But this is no time for her imagination to be running wild because she's pissed, too. So much anger flooded her veins that tears accumulating in the corner of her eyes are almost spilling out — that's the worst kind of anger.

(y/n) gaped at him. “Are you fucking serious right now? I had one single conversation with that guy and and you— you think I’m cheating on you?!”

And what's filling her with rage is that what they're fighting over is stupid, good Lord, it's so fucking stupid.

It started with (y/n) telling Bakugou about how she's finally found a dream, something to chase, because she's spent most of her life without having decided what to do for herself or wanting anything in her life. That dream involved her going to a school, outside the country, and that turned into a tiny misunderstanding, which blossomed into something else, followed something else after that, and then both Bakugou and Y/N were yelling at each other and calling each other names and it was all a horrible sight to see. Both of them have no idea what brought it on to this extent. All they're certain of is that they're pissed at each other and have, apparently, been pissed at each other for a long ass time.

Bakugou grinned. A grin that she loathed, because Bakugou’s grins are usually with mischief, with playfulness. Not this malice. He outstretched his arm on either sides of him, like he’s showing something off. “Well, I don’t see anyone proving me otherwise.”

She huffed, glaring right back at him. “What the hell is your problem?”

“What’s my problem?! What the hell is your problem?!” Bakugou yelled back at her, not even bothering to try to keep from shouting. He pointed out the door, “You were fucking flirting with that two-faced asshole right in front of me! You're the problem!”

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?! That was months ago, you've had that stupid excuse of a grudge on me ever since, huh?!" (y/n)'s eyes narrowed and crinkled – not in a way that Bakugou's used to seeing. "I haven't done anything wrong! All I've done is fucking been there for your stupid ambition to be the number one hero-

"Stupid? Stupid?!" Bakugou repeated incredulously, eyes widening as he quivered with anger. "I'd watch my words if I were you. This is my fucking life goal and something I want for myself that you're calling stupid."

(y/n) was nearly suffocating on her fury, her laugh void of any happiness leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. "I am aware of what I'm spewing out. Your fucking dream was delusional and far fetched but I supported it, didn't I?! I watched every single match, patched up your hands when they bled from all that training, made you delicious bentos to fuel you up for the day – "

"– And now you say it was all stupid," Bakugou laughed mirthlessly, glaring at her so hard that (y/n)'s knees start to tremble. "How romantic can this get?" He raised his voice, arms stretching out before clapping obnoxiously loud, "I hope shitting on your boyfriend's dream has given you some sort of satisfaction."

"And you've got some nerve to pull all of this shit with me about suddenly wanting something for myself because I've met someone else and that I'm cheating on you," (y/n)'s lips tremble, her voice practically shaking with anger as she spoke, a finger going to point accusingly at him, "You're not my boyfriend. You're just one big hypocrite!"

"You fucking are, though!" His voice was laced with venom as he practically spat the words in the woman's face. "You're definitely planning to elope with some hunk city boy! I'm not fucking good enough for you, huh?!"

And that’s— that’s the final straw.

Relationships are about trust, and Bakugou obviously didn't fucking trust her. If he wasn't so much of a prick in how he reacted to her telling him her future plans then they'd probably be cuddled against each other, asleep, and Bakugou would be the first to start apartment hunting for her — for them, because he'd even move with her, since he knows he couldn't properly function without her.

But before she even opened her mouth to inform him that she's done with this toxic relationship, he beat her to it, “Good thing I never fell in love with you, then.”

(y/n)’s face changed from cocky to puzzled then to heartbroken. As his words made her world crumble, Bakugou took pride in the sight of the bewildered woman before him, not planning to take his words back anytime soon since he saw this argument as a game of who can devastate the other first. And the prize was looking back on this fight one day and thinking, wow, I won that. It didn't matter what had been said and done in his book.

But (y/n) and Bakugou are two sides of the same coin; she simply wanted to have her point reach his end, so that they can both agree to put this aside and go back to their normal, non-fling-type couple selves.

“So all of this,” She motioned between them, interrupting his train of thought “meant nothing to you? You never even loved me?” She asked with what seemed to be a mixture of hurt and sadness but mainly anger. Before he could even blink, she was over hitting him on the chest with her tightly clenched fists, trying to let out her pain, “I hate you, you're the worst! You told me numerous times you loved me- that you’d never even make me feel like shit! What’s changed, Bakugou? Why can’t you love me anymore?” Her voice cracked, nonetheless she was smoldered with rage.

"Are you deaf? I said I never did. I was lying the whole time, whenever I told you that— that I did."

Bakugou took every hit she was giving him because he stood firmly on his feet, unnecessarily adding fuel to the fire, as if (y/n)'s miserable state wasn't enough to satisfy him — to drop his guard and tell her he wanted to take it back. That he wanted to say I didn’t mean that, I’m sorry, I love you, I didn’t mean to say that— but then (y/n)’s letting out a laugh that sounds so bitter, it made Bakugou flinch.

“Fine,” she breathed out, then she’s scoffing out another harsh laugh. “Then— we’re done. Wouldn’t want you to waste your time and effort in a relationship that you never thought was worth it. I don’t want to waste my time and energy being with someone who clearly doesn’t feel the same kind of love towards me.”

And she turned on her heel, ready to head straight out the door, purposefully ignoring the faint, “Wait, (y/n)—” from behind. Her opposite hand subconsciously grazed the promise ring she shared with Bakugou, and she realises something.

At one swift movement, she pulled at the said ring and threw it at him with more force than necessary.

“What a fucking nonsense 'promise' that was,” She said out loud, and it rang through Bakugou’s ears, because he made a pathetic whining sound that's never been heard before, because this moment couldn't have a bigger emotional toll on him than anything else.

"Y/N, hear me out," he sniffled. "I'm so so sorry, I didn't mean an ounce of what I said. I know you're not cheating on me, baby, I'm sure of that. I was being a dickhead for that and I'm so fucking sorry. Fuck, I'm so sorry. I love you, Y/N. God. I need you so much, and I was lying when I said I never did. When you're not with me, I'm not... me. And I just," he sighed, pulling the ends of his hair aggressively. "I'm sorry, I really am."

Y/N’s got a hand on the door handle, but there were fingers slowly wrapping around her other wrist. She yanked her wrist out of his hold like his touch burned, causing Bakugou's lips to shake. It's hitting him now, the fact that he's losing the girl he courted and spent so much time with. The girl who kept him wide awake at night because of how much she clouded his mind. Not to mention, the ring which symbolizes their commitment to each other, is being thrown away like it's nothing.

(y/n) peeked at him through her eyelashes, "Give me a break. I obviously don't have a place in your heart, you've made that painfully clear to me. So do me a favor and fuck off."

He very nearly heaved with his next breath. He held a hand up, ring between his pointer finger and thumb. “I meant it when I said I wanted to get serious with this relationship. I still do, and that'll never change. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, that you should be with someone— someone better in every fucking way possible, I want to be the one to marry you. That wasn’t a false promise. That was— that is the promise that I swear to God I’ll be keeping until my last breath.”

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katsukikitten · 3 years

Text

It's hard to see through the sticky wet droplets that fall from above your brow, from your lips and cheeks. You huff, blood splatters the floor at the feet of a woman dressed in an old fashioned black kimono. Her fox mask askew on a rare occasion.

"You broke her, you BROKE HER!" You screech, small frame shaking from fading adrenaline and flashing memories of cold steel and even colder eyes. This was too much, way too much for your seven year old body to handle. But you would do what you must to survive.

The woman turns towards you, her blue eyes iridescent even in the low light.

"No child, you broke her. You were just going to let her kill you." She shrugs as if it weren't such a heavy statement.

"I'm- I'm her weakness, she's better than me, SHE HAD TO!" A stammer that grows into a deafening scream.

"No my dear, she always has and always will be your burden."

You wake in a cold sweat, alarm blaring and your heart stutters in your chest, knives instinctively woven into your fingers.

"An old memory. A dream." Soothing words from a shaking voice, knives never faltering as you lower them, slipping them back onto your person. You rise, peering out the window to see the city blanketed in snow, heaps of it as more fall from the sky. The sidewalks cleared in such a half assed way you were sure they would just turn to ice instead, the piles in the storm drain already turning a mute grey.

You hated the snow, it always brought up bad memories and the biting cold made every scar you owned throb. Ebbing in memories you wished you'd forgotten. Instead you get ready for the day pulling on your hero suit although you didn't have to work the overtime today, you guess old habits die hard. Two weeks had passed since Bakugou offered you that side job. He paid you enough that you wouldn't have to worry about your sister's bills for the next month.

Still Christmas dinner couldn't come soon enough.

You lock the apartment and push through the biting air, face begging for a reprieve as you walk into the icy wind but it's not as if you could walk to the agency backwards.

Bakugou and Kirishima wait outside of the agency building for you, Bakugou holds out a steaming coffee as Kirishima offers a warm smile.

"You're late." "Just on time." They speak over each other before Bakugou gives Kirishima a glare.

"We're patrolling the fucking shopping district today." Bakugou shoves the coffee into your hands as you grit your teeth, trailing behind the two as Bakugou sets out the pace. You let your eyes wander, snow clinging to their hair as Kirishima wears next to nothing, his dumb ass costume having sleeves for warmth. You roll your eyes before they fall on Bakugou. Normally you can smell the spicy burnt sugar wafting off of him in troves but the wind chill is dangerously low for someone who relies on sweat as their weapon. The snow comes down thicker, the flakes a puffy white that sends you miles away before a gut feeling brings you back into the present. You grab onto both of the men, straining your ears to hear over the bustle of the city. Something isn't settling right but they don't seem to be on high alert. Maybe your nerves are fried from the dream.

Your concentrated look doesn't go unnoticed by either party looking over their shoulder. Bakugou shoves the two of you into a side alley to stay out of the way of the hustling streets since you're just standing there. You seem to be off your game, you're more subtle at letting them know about danger without alerting civilians.

"Oi. Spit it out." Bakugou crosses his arms as he stares you down. You blink away the rage, the wind whipping through the side alley making the three of you shiver. You grab onto Kirishima, placing your palm on his sculpted pectoral before explaining.

"Just some buffs for the day. Your unbreakable will be 65% harder and you'll be lighter on your feet." Kirishima gives you a concerned look as you reach for Bakugou who tries to resist.

"Don't need your fucking help."

"Yea?" You hiss, "What good are you if you aren't sweating moron?"

You yank his arm to you, pulling at his sleeve to get to bare skin, pressing your warm fingers against his cool forearm. You send him a knowing glare.

"Gonna feel like summer for you today sweaty palms." You shove him away and he thinks to swing at you. Kirishima diffuses the situation.

"All day buffs? Isn't that a strain on your quirk?" Kirishima was always concerned about you.

"I'll be fine. You know I'm at a place where a lot of my own personal buffs and debuffs are idle." With a snap of your fingers a little display appears in the air thanks to your support bracelet. Reminding the two men of a video game, your stats out there for them to see. The screen rolls through them fairly quickly. Bakugou can only catch a few as the text moves at a rapid pace. Poison resistance 85%, Stab resistance 98%, weapon pulled from body closes wound 50% faster, returned weapon caught or pulled from body 100% hit rate, deadly intent. Your stats disappear as quickly as they came. Bakugou knows your quirk's ability comes from experience, he thinks of the ones you have maxed out and let's his eyes linger over your face. Over the muted slashes and his stomach churns from concern, suspicion. How would a "petty thief" come across a blade and return it enough times that they could never miss? It surely wasn't in the time of your forced hero work, he has yet to see you take anything more than a surprise punch.

"Are we fucking done? We got extras to babysit." Bakugou growls stepping out onto the sidewalk and into a nest of paparazzi.

"Dynamight, over here Dynamight. Is it true you're dating your partner?"

"Is it Red Riot or Rouge?" Another reporter shouts. Screaming out question after question putting Bakugou under rapid fire.

Cameras flash as you can practically hear Bakugou's blood pressure increase ten fold, he inhales sharply to scream but Pro Hero Red Riot saves the day.

"Guys we're on the clock, please save this for our designated interview dates." He smiles listing the dates and times. You wonder how they collected here so quickly, scanning the crowd for a nosy bystander that may have tipped the tabloids off with your location.

But your eyes lock onto something far worse.

In the crowd is a woman with auburn hair and icy blue eyes, dressed in an all black kimono. She smirks and mouths "Finally" to you before she throws her deadly ice darts, dipped in shining poison yet to be added to the government registry.

But how could they know when you helped her make it. Working on instinct you yank Kirishima forward by his steel face mask until he is doubled over before you pull Bakugou into the same position by his belt of winter grenades. One ice dart sinks into your shoulder while the other nicks your throat but it's not as if it matters. Mithridatsim was your best friend growing up.

A small box flashes in the top left corner of your vision, a status only you can see

WARNING! MORE EXPERIENCE NEEDED: LAST ADMINISTERED DOSE OF POISON X HAS BEEN SIX MONTHS, PLEASE DO NOT CONSUME ANYMORE TO INCREASE LOST RESISTANCE AND GAIN EXPERIENCE.

Fuck! How could you forget that her special blend of poison required exposure every two months?! Hero work was making you too soft, making you wonder just how many other skills were deteriorating from lack of repetition and experience.

But that was a problem for another day. For now you growl, yanking the men down further to keep their eyes off of you as you give chase. Following her deadly speed with ease, thankfully she is headed out of sight from civilians and paparazzi although it spells trouble for you.

Or maybe it spells trap.

She throws another set of ice darts, you dodge them all but one that sinks into your stomach. You grip onto the ice, pulling it from your skin when a warning pops up

LIMIT EXPOSURE, REACHING LETHAL DOSE, PASSIVE BUFF ACTIVATED, HEALING RATE REDUCED FROM 50% TO 30% DUE TO POISON X, RETURNED WEAPON HIT RATE REDUCED TO 65% DUE TO WEAPON TYPE, COLD RESISTANCE INCREASED TO 55%

WOULD YOU LIKE TO TAKE A CHANCE?

The question flashes as you push forward, following her step for step. You loved and loathed that question, it could increase your chances of the poison clearing instantly, heal your wounds perfectly and return your hit rate back to its max level.

Or you could utterly "fail" the chance roll earning you double the pain and debuff.

The closer you were to whatever magic number your quirk decided, the better your chances.

Another set of darts that you barely dodge. You grind your teeth, hero work was definitely making you too soft.

WOULD YOU LIKE TO TAKE A CHANCE?

"Yes!" You growl as your quirk activates. It announces to you the size of the "dice" and the numbers to avoid as you give chase.

PASSIVE BUFF DEACTIVATED "LUCK OF THE DRAW" FOR CHANCE ROLL, DIE SIZE 70, NUMBERS TO AVOID CRITICAL FAILURE 1 THROUGH 50, NUMBERS TO HIT FOR CRITICAL HIT 72 THROUGH 75. ALL NUMBERS IN BETWEEN THE CRITICALS WILL INCREASE BUFFS AND DECREASE BODILY HARM BY 15%.

ROLLING DIE NOW.

In your mind's eye a giant die flashes in your head as numbers blur together while it rolls.

50! CRITICAL FAIL, DAMAGE INCREASED BY TWO, POISON RESISTANCE REDUCED BY 15%, TEN MINUTES UNTIL BLACK OUT

THANK YOU FOR TAKING A CHANCE!

DOUBLE OR NOTHING?

You swat away the temptation as a copper taste begins to coat your tongue, spitting red into the snow. You return the damn dart anyway, lucky enough for you it sticks into the nape of her neck but the ice is not strong enough to sink deeper. Finally she takes a left into an alley and you follow before the mouth is closed off by ice.

Sealing the two of you into an icy tomb. Snarling you exchange fists, hoping to wear her out before you lose consciousness, as she was never good at hand to hand, unlike yourself.

Who lived for the up close and personal.

PASSIVE BUFF "UPPER HAND" ACTIVATED, MELEE AND CLOSE COMBAT SKILLS INCREASED

You rear back your fist, landing it straight into her jaw, causing her to fall back onto heaps of trash. You pin her, pressing one of her ice blades to her throat.

"What are you doing here Fox?" You hiss, and she smiles in delight.

"Could ask you the same little ‘hero’!" She laughs and it's haughty, bringing up now bitter memories, "How far you have fallen sister."

"Tch, this was not my first choice." You fake smile, pressing until you draw blood just to make it even.

"Did Madem send you?" Even saying her name makes your stomach churn while Fox rolls her eyes.

"Who else would send me to fetch their golden child?" She shrugs, using her quirk to make another cold weapon as you're distracted. Although you have the upper hand she still has enough room to sink another ice dark into your side, causing you to grit your teeth.

"You're the fucking favorite now. What more does she want?"

"You're her favorite, you both are. She wants a complete set." She purrs and it feels as if her ice is freezing your blood. Vision blurring from your rapid heart rate, from your rage and the venom.

"What the fuck do you mean? What about her?! She is fucking unwel!" It echoes around in the ice and she smiles, playing you for the fool you were.

"Exactly as I said. I wouldn't count your twin out just yet. You know how Madem lives for backups." She winks, as you feel exasperated. The poison coursing through your veins, your vision tries to spot but you push through.

"I'll let you go just this one Fox but if I ever fucking see you again-" She interrupts.

"Please, you know the rules. Don't come home empty handed. Plus what you do to me will be far more mild than what Madem can think of." She spits blood onto your face, you bare your teeth and sweet drips onto her kimono. You were running out of time.

"ROUGE!" Bakugou shouts in the distance, earning a smile from Fox below.

"Wow bold of you to keep the name." She laughs, "Well your weakness works in my favor. What a dream it would be to be captured by your boyfriend. Then I could tell him everything about me. About you."

"You'd snitch? Just like that?"

"Wouldn't you do anything to keep a loved one safe?" Her words sink deeper than any dagger, any ice pick, she's ever thrown.

She's right.

"ROUGE!"

You would do anything.

Huffing you do what you hadn't in well over a year and although you'd done it thousands of times. It never got easier. You press the blade deeper, letting it slice into her throat as a red line follows in her wake. She looks up at you with a soft smile, relief flooding her features as sweat prickles your brow.

WARNING BLACK OUT IN TEN SECONDS, POISON X WILL BECOME LETHAL IF ANTIDOTE IS NOT ADMINISTERED WITHIN THE HOUR. COUNT DOWNS STARTS NOW :10, 59:59

With shaking hands you set the already melting blade into her hand, jumping over the other ice wall deeper into the alley as you hear heavy foot falls come your way.

You fall into a heap yourself, pressing your hands into your wounds, tempted to attempt to activate double or nothing. Although it could kill you instantly with the status you were in now.

A part of you hopes it does.

The ash blonde blasts through the icy walls, spotting you in an instant. When he sees the perpetrator dead, his stomach churns as he reaches you. Your clammy to the touch and your support bracelet is flashing with an alert for a trusted on looker.

PLEASE IDENTIFY YOURSELF

It yells as Bakugou shouts his name. A little hologram of you shows up before your voice pours out. Silently you're thankful that you could tinker with the item enough that should you come across something from your past you could intercept some information.

Or at least manipulate in your favor should you be rendered non verbal as you are now.

"It seems an especially strong poison has been introduced into my blood stream. The antidote will be elderberry tea, which can be found at these surrounding locations. Please do not take me to a hospital, by the time they identify the poison I will be long gone….I'm talking to you Bakugou. Get the tea. If I pass out, force activate one of my idle or passive buffs. Specifically Adrenaline high… Trust me, you're going to have to..."

The world fades to black without any warning as you float in what feels like non existence. Probably the best sleep you'll ever get even when it's short lived. Like it is now.

"Fuck." Bakugou hisses as the stupid translucent you blabbers on and on of ways to activate this dumb ass, complex, and mysterious as fuck quirk you had. He thinks of how the mini you emphasized pain would be a trigger to activate the idle buff. He grips onto your forearm, thinking of doing a point blank blast. Best case scenario you'd have his palm burned into you for all eternity, worst case scenario you lost your whole fucking left half.

"Fuck! FUCK!" He doesn't want to hurt you but he has to. He thinks of the limited time you have as an ominous timer floats in the air from your bracelet. He tries slapping you across the face first, nothing. Your cheek barely reddening as blood oozes from your wounds. Gritting his teeth and choking on his honor he hits you again, this time with the help of his quirk to add some force.

When that doesn't work, his sadistic side comes out, fueled by his desperation and his gloved fingers subconsciously find the wound in your throat and shoulder. Thinking to exploit it in order to rouse you. He lets out a low hiss as he plunges his fingers into the wounds, digging deep into the one in your shoulder.

PASSIVE BUFF "ADRENALINE HIGH" ACTIVATED.

Your eyes snap open, rage fueling them as you act on instinct, slamming your forehead into Bakugou's hard enough that it bruises both of you.

"OI FUCKING! I'M TRYING TO HELP!" He shouts, forearms popping as heat rushes up his spine from your landed hit. He pushes back his hair, rubbing his sweaty forehead before baring his teeth at you.

"What the fuck?!" He snaps, "Who was that? Why is she dead?"

"Another time yea?" You say weakly, lifting your wrist so he can read the time, "The tea still has to steep."

You stand but wobble on your feet as warnings flash in your minds eye and thankfully not on your stupid support bracelet. Much to Bakugou's disdain, he needed to know what he was working with, not blindly trusting you. Especially not now with growing suspicions.

ADRENALINE HIGH OVERRIDES DAMAGE AND POISON EFFECTS FOR THE NEXT 10 MINUTES COUNT DOWN STARTED 09:59

"Dismiss." You spit blood and the information fades away. You stumble like a drunk towards the mouth of the alley, avoiding your fallen sister as your mind races.

"She wants a complete set."

"Fuck." Is all you can manage thinking of your actual sister, hoping she was safe within the confines of her own prison. That needed to wait. Right now you needed that elder berry tea. The closest shop carrying the product was several blocks away and at this rate you'd never fucking make it.

Bakugou catches on, scooping you in his arms.

"Hold on tight Princess." He growls, propelling himself into the air to land a few store fronts away from your destination.

"Can't believe you're dragging me down." He hisses, fully taking over holding you to him. He squeezes a bit tighter. Your stomach flips and you blame the poison.

"If anything I'm bringing your image up. Imagine the paps seeing this bull shit. Headlines like 'Bakugou, the knight in shining armor saves the day.' Or some horse shit like that." You weakly tease, he glares down at you.

"Tch. Fuck off. They'll find a way to twist it."

"Well your mom will see it for what it is." You squeeze tighter around his throat, nosing the crook of his throat. You feel his laugh through his chest.

"Yea and what's she gonna see?"

"You saving me dumb ass." You pull at his hair and he glares down at you.

"Great, now she'll force me to marry you. Is that what you want bitch face?"

"I'd rather die first. Plus you wouldn't be able to afford my dowry, ass hat." You tease, all he can do is roll his eyes.

"You're fucking right about that. Now where is the stupid elderberry bullshit?" He growls, waltzing through the front door as if holding you were nothing.

IDLE BUFF ACTIVATED SLIGHT OF HAND INCREASED TO-

"Dismiss." You whisper, vermillion burns into your skin, "Next aisle."

WARNING: LACK OF EXPOSURE WILL CAUSE A LOSS IN EXPERIENCE. SLIGHT OF HAND WILL DECREASE

Grinding your teeth you reach for an easy snack, shoving it into your shirt sleeve as Bakugou studies the tea.

"Where?" He snaps, causing you to sigh heavily. You point with exaggeration to the small purple box.

SLIGHT OF HAND MAINTAINED, EXPERIENCE PREREQUISITE MET, BUFF IDLED.

You needed to think of a way to turn this annoying "emergency" mode off, but whenever you were in critical condition, the warnings would display non stop. Most of your quirk you had memorized but you had to admit, it had been a while since you last rolled for chance.

For fun.

"Grab something for Kirishima, you know how he gets when he worries. You need water too."

"This ain't a fucking road trip!" He growls but oddly enough he moves to the back of the store towards the drinks. He grabs a code red for Kirishima and an energy drink for himself. You hold onto the cold drinks as he holds onto you and the tea awkwardly. Setting them on the counter fixing a nasty glare at the clerk.

"R-Rouge and Dynamight wow!" They gush, about to ask for an autograph before ringing the two of you up.

"Kinda on a time crunch kid." Your bracelet flashes 20:32 before the clerk understand the dire situation.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. On the house."

"Doesn't work like that." Bakugou snarls, eyeing you to get his wallet. Little does he know you already snatched it, pressing a twenty into his hands. He glares at you as best he can.

"Keep the change." You're beginning to think that was his new catch phrase as he makes his way towards the hot water dispenser. Setting you on the counter while he let's the two bags steep per your holographic instructions. He taps his finger impatiently before cracking open his energy drink.

It was going to be a long day.

"I'm going to cancel with my mom." He says finally, reaching for his phone, "I'll still…"

"No you fuck. Your mom expects both of us there. I'm not dying."

"Yet, bitch face." He places the tea into your hands, "Think she'll be more pissed if you die in her living room than not show up."

He eyes your wounds, noticing the droplets of blood that followed in their wake, how your scent clung to his skin. He contacts Kirishima instead instructing him to get the first aid kit ready at his house.

"When you're done with your tea. We're gonna get those wounds bandaged."

"Nah I'll be fine, once the poison status is cleared. My other status will return to normal. I'm kinda like a pokemon."

"Don't care, as your boss I'm telling you Imma wrap your wounds with Kirishima now drink your fucking tea." He hits your shoulder before a sadistic smile clouds his features, "Or am I going to have to activate your passive 'Adrenaline High'?"

"Fuck off, I'm pretty sure I'm not gonna pass out with half the cup down." You shove him away from you as his pocket pings.

"Only pretty sure? You're fucking stupid. You can check that."

"Tired of my quirk today." You grumble while Bakugou glares at his phone, he turns it towards you, it's from his mother an article titled "Bakugou, the knight in not so shining armor?" Her text is in all caps beneath ARE YOU SAVING HER I SWEAR TO GOD BOY YOU NEED TO WATCH HER BACK BETTER SHE BETTER BE OKAY YOU BETTER BE OKAY

"Guess you'll have to propose to me now." You laugh sliding from the counter, something from around your throat catches his eye now that things have calmed down.

An odd feeling burns in his chest as goes all the way to his fingers and toes and realization washes over him in waves. He sees a gold chain that leads down to what looks like the droplet of blood. The garner necklace he gave you.

"Come on Kiri is probably waiting." You nudge, grabbing for Eijirou's soda, your own tea almost finished. His eyes follow after you for a moment as he tries to figure out why you hadn't taken it off yet, he's never seen you wear jewelry before.

There is no reason for you to wear it, still the feeling in his chest burns hotter. It makes him feel suddenly proud and oddly possessive. He grinds his teeth, skin popping as he stomps after you, yelling.

"Don't you take credit for the soda I bought!"

#bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bnha x reader

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smashboxgirl26 · 3 years

Text

vengeance / chapter 13: a new face

chapter 12: catching | chapter 14: apologies

vengeance masterlist

Bakugou’s mind rushed over the details that the Commissioner had mentioned the day before. The main issue was that the League was still active - despite them being imprisoned for over five years at that point. How they were still active was the question. And the only theory at the moment was that there was someone from the LOV who hadn’t been captured in the final battles - someone who’d been working on the sidelines enough that they were able to escape from prosecution easily.

That meant that they were probably very dangerous, and that was enough to send Bakugou back into his office to stare out the window again to calm his breathing.

The pit of anxiety in his stomach had been growing, a lot more now, and had been since you’d mentioned to him that you’d met Midoriya. He’d almost thought that his breaking point had been when he’d stepped into Ito’s room and saw those pictures of you everywhere, but it wasn’t.

It was the fact that he couldn’t work on the Ito case.

But it was that and every other single fucking thing that was piling up in his life. It seemed like his usual ranges of anger couldn’t solve these problems as easily as they usually did, and that was incredibly mentally taxing on him - trying to keep up with everything in the whirlwind that currently was his mind.

He hadn’t felt this way since high school - and the many thoughts that came with those feelings were threatening to flood back in as well.

Work.

Shut up and focus on the work.

Deal with the other shit later.

Y/N.

Work for her.

Becoming the Number One Hero.

Don’t lose sight of yourself and drown in the process.

It didn’t work as well as he thought it would, but Bakugou sat down on his desk chair to start on the case nevertheless.

He’d been emailed some of the details of the case when the Commissioner announced to the police that he’d be working on it with them. It wasn’t the highly classified details - of course - but more so an overview of the case as well as the starting point for him to grasp what the situation exactly was.

______

League of Villains: OVERVIEW

March 23, 2221; 8:09 AM

The criminals that were once banded together in the name of the “League of Villains”, LOV for short, together have had many incidents in recent times of their incarceration. Most are in reference to each other, or previous attacks, which leads the prison guards and employees to believe that this is all the form of something that they all collectively understand.

By incidents, it is implied that attacks have been frequent by the LOV alumnus: all of them have related to others; this has been confirmed by either their methods of attack, or what they have said to officers on the scene about the attack

No prisoners have currently escaped through these endeavors, however both prisoners and prison staff have been wounded. A majority of these injuries have been minor, coming in the form of minor scratches, bruises, and other small inflictions. No deaths have been recorded, but the severity of the wounds is increasing.

The resulting actions of the incidents described above were taken solely by the prison staff themselves with a slight oversight of the police: increased security staff around all LOV prisoners - whether they have made an attempt or not - along with solitary for those who did make an attempt.

Interviews have not yet been held, due to the fact that it is too dangerous for most of the prisoners to be taken out of their cells without the proper amount of protection for the questioner (as more guards have been allocated to watch all the LOV prisoners), meaning that more support is needed in order to properly question them

______

Bakugou was holding his breath the entire time. The more he read, the more he was convinced that there was, in fact, something going on beneath the surface and that the police and prison staff were one-hundred percent correct about their assumptions.

When they’d first been arrested, they’d definitely fought their incarcerations and made attempts to escape. But they’d mellowed out after a while, and even if they were in there for life, their sentences would be more bearable if they played along with the rules that were laid out before them.

But for them to start causing messes now? After five years of mostly good behavior?

It didn’t make sense to Bakugou, unless the theory was correct.

Whether the Director knew all the details was unknown, but that meant that his opinion was completely wrong about the whole situation, and that he was only trying to sweep it under the rug with Bakugou in charge of the investigation.

That fact was burning in Bakugou’s mind as he glanced away from his screen to stare up at the ceiling while running his fingers through his hair. He needed to start working on this investigation quickly, or the Director would try and sweep the whole thing under the rug and there would be no funding allocated towards it.

Bakugou let out a sigh before glancing down to the bottom of the email, and finding the number to the precinct that was heading up the entire investigation and the name of the lead investigator.

…

Bakugou stepped into the low-ceiling, dimly lit room with higher expectations for the precinct that was heading up one of the most important cases containing the League of Villains. But it actually made sense that a dingy precinct was chosen instead of one that had more resources available to them; it was because the Director didn’t want the investigation to go anywhere. Well unfortunately for him, he’d assigned Katsuki to the case, and he wasn’t one to let things go with nothing.

Most of the officers were lounging around in their chairs with a coffee or donut in hand, scrolling on their phones or mindlessly typing something up on their computer. He even thought he saw one watching porn in the far corner of the room.

He grimaced at the sight, but took a few more steps forward to the front desk where he looked over the counter at the secretary who was currently busy on his phone.

“Uhm, excuse me,” Bakugou grumbled out.

“Hmm?” the secretary looked up halfheartedly, taking a small glance before doubling back at Bakugou with wide eyes and standing up from his chair.

“D-Dynamight. I mean, ahem, Mr. Dynamight,” he said loud enough for the other officers to hear.

Bakugou watched as they all scrambled about in their spots and immediately went to typing on their computers with haste as they gave him the side-eye. Bakugou rolled his eyes before turning back to the almost quivering secretary with annoyance, most of it having to do with how the precinct was running.

“We weren’t e-expecting you here till tomorrow, Sir,” the secretary managed out under Bakugou’s scrutinizing glare. “Detective Masaki’s been busy trying to get the base information but-”

“I know that already,” Bakugou spat in response. “It was all in the long ass email he sent me. Tell him to come out of his office so we can discuss the case in person.”

The secretary’s eyes narrowed slightly as they tilted their head and gave Bakugou a confused look, “Sir, I’m not sure of you’re aware but Detective Masaki is-”

“Haruma, it’s okay,” a female voice interrupted from the side, and Bakugou looked up from the desk in front of him to meet the face of the voice who was walking up to the desk from the back.

“Mr. Dynamite, the name’s Detective Masaki. I’ll be working on the League of Villains case with you,” the lady said, sticking her hand out for Bakugou to shake.

Bakugou didn’t even look surprised at the fact that the detective he was working with was actually a woman. He was more focused on the fact that she was much more professional than the other extras who just seemed to be there to hang around.

At least one person in this god forsaken place actually gives a fuck about their job.

“You too,” he said simply before reaching out to shake her hand firmly.

He took the opportunity to observe her features under his heavy glare. She was tall and slender, with a bronzed complexion that matched her wide golden brown eyes. Strands of curly hair were sticking out of the bun she’d pinned to the back of her head, and that was one of his many indicators that she wasn’t, in fact, Japanese.

“Let’s go talk in my office,” she gestured behind her, before walking in front of Bakugou to lead him to the area it was located.

She held the door open for him, and he noticed as she carefully locked the door behind them and checked out of its windows quickly before pulling up blind. Once she’d finally sat herself in her chair on the other side of the desk, Bakugou observed her stoic expression before opening his mouth to speak.

“You’re not Japanese.”

She gave an amused smile, “I’m half Japanese, but I think that was obvious enough from my appearance. I’m from America, actually. But it’s nice to finally meet you Mr. Dynamight.”

“Call me Bakugou,” he grunted back. “It seems like we’ll be working together for a while so honorifcs aren’t really necessary.”

“Then you could call me Kana instead of my last name. If you remember, we go by first names in America.”

“I fuckin’ knew that,” he replied boredly.

“Right..” she replied.

The air between them was awkward, to say the least. They clearly were both headstrong people who wouldn’t take opinions from others. It was going to be an exhausting investigation.

“Well then, let’s get down to it,” Kana said as she crossed her hands together over the table. “I’m actually glad you came today, it means we have more time before the Director decides to pull the plug.”

“So you know about his stupid plan too then, right?” Bakugou asked as he leaned back in his chair. “He doesn’t want the investigation to go anywhere.”

“I think it was made pretty obvious when he decided to assign the case here, of all places,” Kana replied with a chuckle. “But even then, I think he forgot I was assigned here.”

Bakugou had been taking the time to observe his surroundings, and even though it was littered with coffee cups, papers, and files, he noticed the couple of plaques that hung on the wall at the back.

High honors, commended leadership, outstanding excellence…

“What the hell are you doing in a dingy place like this? As far as I can tell none of the fuckers outside have actually put effort into their jobs,” Bakugou asked with an eyebrow raised.

“I was demoted,” Kana sighed. “The Commission’s Director thought I was sniffing around in his business more than I needed to so he dumped me here. I went from being one of the best detectives in Japan to being forgotten.”

“That sucks balls.”

“Yeah,” she huffed a breath out of her nose. “But anyways, that doesn’t matter right now. You’ve read the email, right?”

“Obviously,” Bakugou rolled his eyes.

“So then it’s obvious that the next step would be to start the interviews with the villains. We weren’t able to do them before because we needed more oversight and there wasn’t enough protection to keep the prisoners secure. But now that you’re here it’ll be a lot easier.”

“I don’t think we should start with their interviews first,” Bakugou thought out loud. “It’s not like they’ll give up any information willingly, and we don’t know if the security of the prison would let us see them more than one time if they don’t give us anything useful the first time.”

“What do you suggest then?” Kana asked with an eyebrow raised and skepticism in her voice.

Bakugou at least understood where it was coming from though - this was her area of expertise. He was someone who was not really involved in these types of cases, or at least he wasn’t up until now.

“I’d say we start with the prison and security staff. You haven’t had proper interviews with them yet, right?” Bakugou stared off in thought.

“No,” Kana shook her head. “The only thing we’ve gotten so far are the files they gave us in order to request increasing the security around the villains and to put the ones who were attempting to escape in solitary. There were some basic facts in there but there wasn’t anything specific written down - just the whole thing about them acting weird and how they were talking about something going on outside of the prison.”

“Then I’d say that’s our place to start. If we have those interviews on record then we can use them to help keep the villains from lying to us, since they couldn’t deny anything that was previously said to the prison staff,” Bakugou affirmed with a nod.

“Fine then,” Kana replied with a huff. “I’ll arrange for us to start the interviews tomorrow.”

“I’ll be there,” Bakugou replied tiredly.

He’d rather be working with Kirishima, and Monoma (of all people) on your case than work with this Kana bitch.

…

You waved at Camie as she drove down the street, leaving you on the steps in front of your apartment. The smile you’d plastered on faded, and you felt as your face settled into a hard frown.

It’d been hard trying to keep yourself smiley and peppy all day, and now that you were finally alone it came out easier than you’d expected. Staring blankly at the road seemed to take the edge of your emotions out of your head for a second, and because they’d been running rampant in your head since the previous night it felt like a break.

But that meant the return to reality was much, much worse.

There was some creepy guy who’d been stalking you, which became public knowledge, and Camie had informed you that your boyfriend, the person who was supposed to trust you more than anyone else in the world, had been hiding his emotions from you.

And now that you were thinking about it, it hadn’t even started because of the whole stalker case where Katsuki felt he needed to “protect” you by trying to keep you from the truth of his feelings. The first time you’d noticed it was when you mentioned meeting Izuku, but who knew how long he’d been hiding himself before that!

The pressure of your thoughts manifested itself into a headache, and you could no longer bear standing outside under the sun - even if it helped calm your nerves a little with the light breeze that’d started up - so you headed inside with a huff.

The day had been a weird one.

You constantly felt like you were being watched, only to turn your shoulder and see that there was no one there. And with you being so hyperactive with your surroundings and still not noticing anything abnormal, you were just beginning to think you were paranoid or going insane. But who could blame you, how else were you supposed to handle the news of being stalked?

You closed the door behind you silently, double checking that you’d locked it before finally sauntering off to the kitchen to grab something to eat. All the worrying was making you feel sick and you’d lost your appetite long ago, but you hadn’t eaten since morning and you needed something before you could take a pill to appease the throbbing headache that made the anxiety infinitely worse.

After finally settling yourself down, you plopped yourself onto the couch with the intention of watching some random movie to get your mind off of everything that was swirling around. But a notification from your email stopped you in your tracks before you could even grab the remote.

And when you opened it and read its contents, your heart almost stopped.

The Tokyo University Medical School regrets to inform you that your scholarship has been revoked.

──────────────

sorry this one took some time loll, but idk if it'll get much better since school's starting soon

just ask if you'd like to be tagged :)

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@spicy-therapist-mom @triviajeongin @iliketobullydeku @nuclearnoir @lilyblossomblooms2020 @all-in-the-fandoms @no-post-ghost @intense-socks

#midoriya x reader x bakugou #yandere midoriya #izuku midoriya #midoriya x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #yandere #mha #bnha #yandere izuku #mha fanfiction #bnha fic #bnha bakugou katsuki #bnha izuku #mha x reader #bnha x reader #vengeance #keke.writes

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bkgwrites · 3 years

Text

Chapter 1: Left Behind

RUN

That’s all your mind could think. Run. You couldn’t slow down, or they would get you. Your body was straining though as you had to carry Bakugou’s full body weight. He was knocked unconscious from the pain he was experiencing from his wounds.

Bakugou wasn’t the only reason that your legs were about to give out as you had to carry both your pack’s that were strapped to your suits for emergencies like these. The wound you were sporting wasn’t helping your case either. But you wouldn’t let this faze you, even if you felt like your body was about to drop. You kept running. Away from the creatures that had taken over the Earth. The ones you were trained to survive among and kill. The creatures that killed your mother in front of your very eyes.

You wouldn’t stop running because the creatures would never have to satisfaction of ripping you apart and eating you as if you were the last meal on the Earth. You didn’t want to feel that pain, so you ran with everything you had even if you felt like you couldn’t run anymore.

Stopping at a far enough distance from the destroyed headquarters of U.A. The organization that taught you every survival skill you know. U.A was designed for teenagers ages 17-20 to train to be able to revive Earth back for the human species. Not to mention, only teenagers lived on Earth while everyone else from babies, children, adults, and elders were residing on Mars currently. With the damage done to Earth’s condition, the government and NASA made a plan to put citizens on Mars since it was the next best-suited planet for humans. So, the year when signs of the Earth becoming too dangerous for the human race, many were sent to live on Mars and fix it for human usage. Now, only those that worked in and were apart of U.A were left on Earth. Those left were accustomed to weapons like daggers, spears, blades, bow and arrows, and even guns. All these weapons were customized to be able to kill dinosauric type creatures and the very ones that murdered your mother.

You were first recruited for this organization when you were 16 years old. After your mother had passed, you wanted revenge against the very creature that killed her. You signed up for U.A knowing that 17 was the age for starting but you didn’t care. Aizawa, your mother’s friend, was able to convince the court that you could train with those of the desired age. Aizawa even trained you himself to help you gain the knowledge and practice that you needed to stay on the same level as those older than you.

The class you were set to was class 1A. Full of 17–18-year old’s that all wanted to help Earth be for the human race again. As the youngest, you were treated as the baby of the class though you had more muscle and experience than some.

You thought back to this morning when the attack had begun.

---

It was another day where you were staring at the sky above walking to class. You felt off but thought nothing of it as you had become someone that even though being sarcastic, you were sturdy and immune to emotions other than anger. As you made it inside you still could feel that feeling though, you felt unease.... like something was coming.

“Y/N” Mina, one of your best friends, screamed across the hall, knocking you out of your funk. “What did I tell you about screaming in the morning Mina,” you smirked. Mina was always one of the few people that you got along with in the class. She never failed to make you snort at something she said. “Well you know I said your name 3 times earlier, but you were stuck in that mind of yours. So what’s up?”

“Nothing, I just feel off today. I don’t know, I feel like something is coming and I don’t know what.” You normally weren’t nervous when at school, but something in your gut was telling you that you were in danger.

“Well everything seems fine so it's ok! So come on, we gotta get to class ya know before Sensei kills us.” You both dash to get into class as you only had 2 minutes before training began. Mina and you make it in just a nick of time.

“WE ARE HERE” Mina screams. “Just go sit down,” Aizawa says to you both. You shake your head walking to your seat. As you sit down, Kirishima turns to smile at you.

“Good morning Y/n! Ready for training today?”

“Totally, I’m ready to kick your ass again” you snicker.

“Awww… man come on. You know you're super manly, I mean you have better abs than me and Bakugou.”

“NO SHE DOESN’T SHITTY HAIR! I HAVE WAY BETTER ABS” Bakugou screams while pulling up his shirt.

“Whatever you say Dandelion,” you roll your eyes, seemingly aiming at the state of his spiky hair. Bakugou was one of the people in the class that you couldn’t stand. He seemed to always be competing with you because he wanted to prove he was better than you since you were one of the top students in training. He was an arrogant son of a bitch that would try to upset you and bother you every second of the day. You despised him, I mean he was almost at the level of hatred you had for the creatures that killed your mother, but you never let him get under your skin. You were better than him and you proved it every day in training.

“WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME” he screamed.

“Bakugou scream at me one more goddam-”

“Bakugou and Y/n, be quiet before you are assigned extra training. Now class go change into your suits so training can begin.” Aizawa said, tuning down the argument that sure was about to happen between you too.

---

Heading out from the locker room, everyone wore the same suit. These suits were molded to fit anyone perfectly and even designed to work with the environment that the Earth had turned too. They even helped the female anatomy considering it would be hard for girls to have their periods during an apocalypse like this. It makes sense as technology really advanced right before and even after the world was taken over.

The suits were customized to any environmental situation, like when the seasons changed, the suit is able to camouflage itself with it. Not only that, but the suit worked with that season, with winter, suits were able to change to match the snow and also change your overall body temperature. Heating you up when the weather is too much for your human body, as the temperature could get so low that frostbite and hypothermia could click within your body in a second; these dangerous temperatures appeared when the Earth changed.

With the suit being able to shift your atoms for body temperature, it also could change your atoms in order to help you survive. With female suits, it was able to change atoms within the body to stop the flow of the menstrual cycle. The suit has its limitations though as that ability only works when the suit remains on.

---

“Everyone you will be assigned partners for training today. I will put you in pairs that normally do not work together. You need to be able to work with and around each other. I want you sparing with everything you got against one another” Aizawa mentions to the class.

“Starting with…. Ashido with Shinso, Kaminari with Tokoyami, Kirishima with Shoji, Hagakure with Yaoyorzu….”

“Y/n with Bakugou”

“WHAT!!!” you both screamed, one in anger and another in confusion. You couldn’t understand why he would put you with Bakugou. I mean it is kind of understandable since you both dislike each other and always bicker. The thing is though, you both were good at the same things. Though in class it seemed you still were always winning against him, either it be in archery class or sword fighting.

“I don’t want to fight this weak bitch” Bakugou screamed to Mr. Aizawa.

“Oh shut the fuck up Dandelion. I’ve beaten you in every class. Who’s the weak bitch now” you smirked from across the room, trying to provoke him.

Bakugou began growling, “SHUT UP WOMAN! You only won because you cheated!”

“Babe, you can’t cheat in training” you laughed out.

Bakugou was about to begin screaming when he paused, beginning to acknowledge the pet name you just said which had his cheeks heat up to a light blush. You were confused why he didn’t scream back but didn’t pay attention to it turning back to finish listening to what Aizawa was saying.

Once Mr. Aizawa finished, you made your way to Bakugou. You two were going to be the second group to spar as Uraraka and Deku were fighting first. However, the round seemed to end a little quicker than expected when Uraraka was able to sweep Deku off his feet with a quick foot attack and shove his side with her dagger not actually penetrating it into his skin.

Coming up to the mat, you and Bakugou took to your defensive positions ready to battle against one another.

“YOU READY TO FUCKING DIE” Bakugou shouted in your direction.

The irony behind his words came in just a blink of an eye as the emergency alarms began to blare.

“EVERYONE GET READY TO ABOARD THE EMERGENCY SHIP TO MARS IMMEDIATELY!” Mr. Aizawa yelled to the class as everyone began to head in its direction.

You and Bakugou looked at each other for a split second with fearful but determined eyes and took off.

Mina ran in your direction. “Y/n I’m so scared, what if we don’t make it in time?” she said with tears gathering in the corner of her eyes.

“Don’t be scared! We’ve been training our whole lives for this and you know I’ll protect you no matter what!” and just as you finished saying that. A piercing scream came from the end of the hallway you were running away from.

You turned your head to see one of the 1b students, Monoma, getting his arm torn off from the jaws of the creature. It was a horrific sight and there was nothing you could do for him as the creature began to tear his head from his throat. You couldn’t help but want to throw up as blood began to run down from the neck of his body and the creature’s mouth. You had to just keep running.

---

As those who hadn’t been brutally mutilated by the creatures made it to the ship, they began filing onto it in a rush. Students were boarded on after the teachers even with the larger number of students. The ship was the size of a high school as even with most of the human population living on Mars, there were still around 517 students and 30 teachers that remained on Earth.

The creatures were dangerously getting closer to the ship and that made the students around you panic. Forcing the crowd to cram into the ship without the care of trampling over one another. It was better than getting murdered by these creatures. And even with wanting to cram into the ship as well, you needed to protect the other students. Bakugou seemed to have the same thought as he began fighting a creature that was closing in.

You ran over to help him with the shaft that you had situated in your hand knowing it was the best weapon against it.

Looking over to your right, Mina and Kirishima began shooting their guns at the creatures, which were filled with poisonous bullets that could kill something or someone in 15 seconds when it set into the bloodstream. Then looking over to your right you couldn’t help but gasp as Sato was screaming out in agony as his legs were getting crushed within the mouth of the creature. Soon to be eaten completely.

Turning back to look at the ship, you realized mostly everyone was on the ship only leaving a good 16 of you on the ground. As 10 of those students began to rush on the ship as well you heard a grunt beside you.

With a quick head turn, you see Bakugou almost getting his arm eaten off and ran to protect him. You quickly flipped over the creature’s head and slashed it off with ease before his arm was eaten.

“I HAD IT HANDLED!” Bakugou yelled at you with scratches on his arms that seeped blood into his suit. You ignored him and ran over to kill the creature approaching behind him. Though this creature seemed smarter than the one before. Right before you could stab it in the eye with your shaft, it snagged at your face. Making you scream in agony as it slashed a mark across your face almost getting its claw into your eye. Gratefully though it didn’t take your eye out, but instead you had blood dripping down from the claw mark going down from your forehead to your jaw.

Bakugou quickly jumped in action killing the creature even with aching arms and running to help you.

“Y/N! Shit! That’s a lot of fucking blood” he mumbled in panic but quickly got into action trying to take you to the ship as you run holding your face. Everyone seemed to have boarded the ship by now as 2 other creatures were coming towards it.

“BAKUGO LETS GO NOW!” Kirishima screamed from the top of the ramp as the ramp began to close. You and Bakugou had about a mile until you would make it to the ship. You and him both ran with everything you had as the ship began to count down.

“1 MINUTE UNTIL TAKEOFF” the ship alerted to you both and the people on board.

Suddenly in surprise, another creature from the right of Bakugou came towards him and slashed at his back. Bakugou grunted in pain with blood coming down from his arm wounds and now back wound. You quickly threw a dagger placed at your side at the creature’s eye, slowing it down thoroughly, and tried to drag Bakugou as he began to slowly slow down. As he was slowly beginning to fall unconscious because of his deep wounds.

“30 SECONDS UNTIL TAKEOFF” the ship alerted you again. You began to panic but kept running with Bakugou. Knowing that you were only halfway to the ramp and the ramp was beginning to close until the point you wouldn’t be able to jump in the ship before it shut.

You felt tears streaming down your face as you realized you wouldn’t make it.

“Y/N!” Kirishima cried out in panic! He seemed to acknowledge that you and Bakugou were not going to make it as he could barely see you both.

“STOP THE RAMP” Kirishima screamed out to the people on board, specifically to the teachers that could alert the captain. But it was too late. The ramp was fully shut, and the ship was taking off.

You screamed in anger as you had missed the one shot to living, but you couldn’t stay at headquarters. The other creature was chasing after you and was almost near you, so you set Bakugou down as he was fully unconscious. And killed the creature with all the might you had within you.

After it was defeated you picked up Bakugou even though you were tired from running, and ran towards the woods beside headquarters. You knew that U.A wasn’t safe anymore as you saw creatures and dinosaur-like beings beginning to take it over. So you just ran, not knowing where you were going and the danger you would come across.

#boku no hero academia #ao3 #fanfiction #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x poc!reader #bakugo x reader #post apocalypse #bakugo angst #ao3 bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x you #fandom #fanfic #bnha fanfiction #bnha au #bakugou x reader

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shorkbrian · 4 years

Text

Syndicate

Prelude: Hey pals! Sorry for not posting, usual excuse of “I saw pictures of myself and got very depressed lolololol” I have some spicy HC ideas for some of my requests, so I will be getting to those! Thank you for being so patient y’all, love u and if you have a doggo pet them for me.

Pairing: Kiribaku X Reader

Prompt: I was watching “Mission Impossible: Fallout” and there’s that one fighting scene where Hunt and Walker are beating up that dude in the bathroom and inspiration STRUCK. Cause like oof, how hot would it be for the darling to be fighting against the two of them and they just tag-team beating you up??? Bruh.

Warnings: Needles, mentions of an aphrodisiac. Fighting, blood, gunshot wounds. Mention of a headshot and brief sentence about what that might entail. Stalking. Alludes to NSFW but there is no actual smut.

Music: https://youtu.be/wyUaurKZEN4

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Your mission was clear. Pick up the hard-drive from your contact, lay low for a few months until the Syndicate stopped looking for it, then transport it out of the country.

The first step was easy - picking it up from your contact. Well, easy enough. Something had gone wrong, either someone had talked or the Syndicate was more watchful than you thought, and your contact had been killed right as he was handing over the drive. You had to flee, his blood and brain matter still dripping off your face. Whoever had shot him had gotten a bullet in you too, in your left shoulder. It had made moving excruciating, but you were built for running and hiding, hired for how good you were at sneaking yourself out of tough situations.

You had spent the next few weeks double-checking everything. You couldn’t afford any mistakes, looking over your shoulder whenever you left the dingy safehouse-apartment to get groceries, paying for everything with cash to leave no digital trail. You took a walk across town with the intent of chucking your phone in a dumpster, paranoid that somehow the syndicate had somehow tracked you, that you were responsible for the death of your contact. Every night your blinds were taped shut, your door locked and a chair placed under the handle. It was hard for you to relax, to sleep instead of watching the door, knife ready.

How you wished you had a gun, but you were barely more than a street rat. A woman had simply come up to you one day, promising you plentiful payment if you just followed a few simple, easy instructions. They would even supply a safehouse, and how you wished they would’ve also supplied a gun.

Gradually you allowed yourself to ease up, to sleep at night. There were more walks, you went out to eat, you even joined a local gym to keep yourself in shape while you waited out the next few months. Instead of ignoring your friendly neighbors, you allowed yourself to return their friendly greetings. By doing so, you learned that the pair of men living to your left went to the same gym. Sometimes you saw them there, familiar shocks of blonde and red hair catching your attention.

At first you had been suspicious, suddenly fearful that the two men were watching you, maybe they were part of the Syndicate? But you quickly brushed that aside, reasoning to yourself that too much time had passed since you grabbed the drive - plus, you had seen the pair kissing in the hallway right outside their door when you had come back from a walk the other day. They didn’t notice you until you were turning your key in the lock, and the noise made the blonde shove the redhead back, scowling and muttering as he did so. The redhead just chuckled and shrugged at you apologetically. If they were part of the Syndicate, they would have noticed your presence the moment you stepped off the elevator.

Plus, you had similar suspicions about a worker at the grocery store who always seemed to be working whenever you went, even though you tried to choose odd hours. And you were wary of the gym attendant, how he always seemed to be eyeing you whenever you were there. You had to be careful, had to watch everyone. Every time your shoulder twinged you were reminded that no matter how safe you seemed, you could always be wrong.

——

A knock at the door had you scrambling for the remote, pausing the show you were barely paying attention to. Another knock sounded as you dragged your body off the couch, tired and half-asleep. Whoever was knocking better have a good reason for bothering you, eyes finding the clock to confirm that it was as late as you thought.

Not bothering to check through the peep-hole, you swung open the door to find your two neighbors, the redhead’s fist raised to knock again.

“Oh, hey guys. Need something?”

The two men were both dressed in casual clothes - basketball shorts and t-shirts. They probably just wanted to ask if you could turn down your show or something, you hadn’t been paying attention to the volume.

The redhead lowered his hand, a sheepish smile coming across his face.

“Heyyyy, (Y/N), right? Do you have any uhm, oats?”

You blinked at him, then at his scowling partner.

“Oats?”

“Oats.”

The redhead nodded, before he realized how it must sound, and he rushed to explain. “It’s just! Bakugou here-“ he gestured to the blonde at his side, “He was making some cookies, and apparently we don’t have any oats. Could we maybe… borrow some?”

You laughed, before holding the door open, motioning for the pair to come in. “Yeah, no problem!” You shut the door after they stepped instead, then led them to the kitchen. “Honestly though, you don’t really seem like the baking type.”

You glanced at the blonde, only to find him already staring at you. Odd. He shook his head with a “tsk”.

“Yeah, well I am. Got a problem with that?”

You held up your hands innocently before reaching into a cupboard to find the container of oats. “No, of course not! It’s like in that movie with the rat, yanno? “Everyone can cook!””

Both men turned to look at you, and you mentally facepalmed. God, why were you so awkward? Sure, you were capable of stealing and hiding an important hard-drive, but you couldn’t hold a normal conversation with your two (attractive) neighbors. You tried to laugh it off, hoping the men weren’t writing you off as a socially-awkward loser. The blonde man, Bakugou, turned to scan your apartment, so you held the container of oats towards the redhead.

“Here…. There isn’t much left but you guys can have it.” The redhead smiled at you gratefully. “By the way, what’s your name? I’m assuming he’s Bakugou?”

You nodded at the blonde, who moved towards your living room. Was he going to go sit down? Maybe he was curious about what you were watching?

“Oh, I’m Kirishima! And yeah, he’s Bakugou. Thanks (Y/N).”

You don’t remember giving them your name, but it wouldn’t be that hard to figure out. Kirishima made no move to take the container from your hand, and you noticed him tensing up? You could see Bakugou from the corner of your eye, seemingly looking for something in your living room, inspecting the packed bookshelf by the couch. This seemed….. off.

“Hey uh, Kirishima?” You turned back to the redhead (who still hadn’t taken the oats, geez) “You didn’t both have to ask, I would’ve given either one of you the oats.”

“Oh! Yeah, Bakugou’s a little harsh and sometimes he needs help being civil so-“

A crash interrupted the redhead, and you whipped around, only to see all of your books on the ground, Bakugou shaking out the bookcase.

Before you could react, an arm wrapped around your waist, a hand coming into your vision, a long ziptie clenched in the fingers as they moved towards your hands.

This wasn’t good.

You threw your head back, simultaneously kicking behind you, both movements making contact with Kirishima’s body, dislodging his hold on you. You turned as he let go, the container of oats flying out of your hand, straight into the man’s face. It burst open, contents flying everywhere as you used the distraction to throw a quick jab to Kirishima’s throat. He choked, stumbling backwards before you kicked him squarely in the stomach, sending him to the ground.

You were still focused on him, advancing on his form as he tried to stagger up when a large hand gripped the side of your head. In a flurry of movement, you were pitching sideways, the hand forcing your head to bounce off your kitchen counter.

Fuck, you had forgotten about Bakugou.

A sharp, throbbing pain followed you as you collapsed to the ground, dark spots dancing in your vision. This wasn’t good. You were dazed, disoriented as Bakugou stepped over you, moving to check on his partner. You were proficient in hand-to-hand, but your skills were more suited in running and hiding, evading. There was no way you could take on two athletic men.

You should’ve listened to your gut, followed the instinct that the two men were somehow bad news. Bakugou helped Kirishima to his feet, and you saw their lips moving. Your head ached. You struggled to get your feet underneath you, hands gripping the counter as you tried to haul yourself up.

You had to run.

If they found the hard-drive, bad things would happen. You needed to run, to get away.

The two men turned towards you, Bakugou taking something out of his pocket, Kirishima rubbing at his throat. You weren’t even on your feet yet, still scrabbling against the counter for support when you saw what Bakugou had.

A syringe.

You collapsed onto the ground again, kicking your legs as you tried to drag yourself backwards, black dots still dancing around your vision. They were going to kill you.

Kirishima stepped behind you, an arm wrapping around your chest to pull you to a sitting position. You tried to push him off, bite his hand, anything, but you were too woozy.

Bakugou stepped over you, crouching down with syringe in hand. He flashed his teeth at you, eyebrows drawn as he leaned in.

“No, no no no no-“

There was nothing you could do as he jabbed it in your neck.

——

Waking up was confusing. There was no pain, just a sense of calm as you groggily opened your eyes, consciousness returning to you.

The room you were in was relatively bare. Nothing surrounded you but grey walls, and the only furniture was the table you were chained to, and the chair you were seated on.

You sat there, blinking down at the chain trapping you to the desk, slowly filtering through what you remembered last, trying to piece together where you were, what had happened. You didn’t like what you were able to recall.

Head buried between your hands, you wanted to hit something. You had failed at keeping the hard-drive safe, failed at your mission. You had slipped up, gotten too relaxed. Fuck.

You could only hope that you had hidden the drive well enough.

The door in the room slammed open, making you jump, chain rattling. Bakugou smirked at you from the doorway, before sauntering in, Kirishima following. The two looked totally different, both in pressed suits, Kirishima’s red hair spiked up. They both had dark, satisfied looks on their faces. You wanted to punch them. There were apparently chairs on the other side of the table, the pair sitting down across from you, Bakugou crossing his arms over his chest.

“I’ll kill you.”

Voice quiet, you could barely contain your rage. You wanted the both of them gone, wanted to hit until your knuckles were bloody, until their bodies stopped moving. And you weren’t even that type of agent.

Bakugou snorted, before leaning forward. “Yeah? And how’d that go for you back in that shitty little apartment? You’re so fucking weak.”

You fumed, jaw clenching as you glared at the man. If you could, you would bite into his neck, tear out his jugular and make him bleed. What he was saying was true, but you were willing to try and prove yourself.

“Hey, lets all get along here.” Your focus snapped to Kirishima, who seemed… different. When you had seen him before, he was all smiles, goofy and floppy, like a big puppy. Now he was calm, held an air of dangerous confidence. Somehow he scared you more than his feral companion. “(Y/N), you’re going to cooperate with us. If you don’t, we have methods that would be more than enjoyable for Bakugou and I, but you would find far less than pleasant. Now-“

“I’m not telling you anything.” You snapped, causing Kirishima to raise an eyebrow.

“I don’t need you to tell us anything. We already found the hard-drive. Where was it, Bakugou? In the bathroom, right?”

Your blood ran cold.

“It was in the fucking floor. Under the tile and packed into a brick. A goddamn hollowed-out brick.” Bakugou clarified, confirming your fears.

They had found it.

“H-How??” You spluttered, face turning red. You almost felt like crying. You had failed, horribly.

“It’s not that hard to figure out where tile’s been replaced, (Y/N). Pro tip; never become a home renovator.”

Kirishima chuckled at his jab, watching your face twist further. You could tell they were enjoying this. If they already had the hard drive, what were you still doing alive?

“What do you want then? I don’t have anything other than that drive. You want information? I don’t even know who hired me to safeguard it. You’re out of luck, you stupid fucks.”

Bakugou leaned forward suddenly, slamming his hands down on the table and making you flinch back.

“Do you even know how fucking /worthless/ you are to the Syndicate? They could get more use out of a flat tire than they could get out of you. Sure, you’re good at hiding and running and all that shit, but obviously not that good. Kiri and I found you a week after you got the drive.”

Oh god. You wanted to cry. Bakugou noticed, a sick smile spreading across his face.

“Yeah, you were a fuckin’ mess. Found you cause you got shot, left a bunch of blood at the scene. Then we get word of some idiot running through town flickin’ blood everywhere. Wasn’t that hard to put two-and-two together. I bet you’re a goddamn newbie, aren’t you?”

You glared at him. How could he tell? You were just trying to make money, this your first ‘real’ job after spending almost your entire life living on the streets. Kirishima nudged Bakugou as you started sniffing, trying your hardest not to cry in front of the two men.

“What Bakugou’s trying to say, is that the Syndicate doesn’t need anything from you. Bakugou and I however, do. You could say we got sort of…. attached, after watching you for so long.”

“I’m surprised you never even noticed that we bugged your shitty apartment. Seriously, how did you miss all the fucking cameras? Not that I’m complaining; just cements the fact that you’re so fuckin’ inexperienced.”

You were desperately trying to rationalize this to yourself, eyes darting back and forth between the two men. You were ready for them to yell “surprise!!” And bring out the torture tools. They couldn’t be serious. They had been watching you? They had you on camera?? Kirishima cleared his throat, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“We were gonna wait until you pulled the drive out of it’s hiding place. You never did, the higher-ups got antsy and ordered us to move. That’s why we came looking for it the other night….. sorry about that.”

“Wish we would’ve gotten more time on the cameras.” Bakugou scoffed quietly, looking up as you trembled under the onslaught of information. “You put on quite a few shows, fucking enjoyed those.”

Would it be possible for you to somehow disappear? Yes, you had masturbated a few times, but you were a young, healthy individual, with needs! As far as you had known, you were in the safety of your apartment, away from prying eyes. You didn’t know you were being watched!!

You blushed in embarrassment, beginning to shake harder. You didn’t like where this was going, what the two men seemed to be implying. Kirishima laid a syringe on the table, letting it clack gently against the metal as he met your eyes.

“(Y/N), you can either do what we say, or I’ll have to inject you with this. I want you to-“

“What’s in there?” You nodded towards the syringe, noting Kirishima’s big, meaty hands wrapped around it, ready to rush over the table and shove it in your neck.

Bakugou barked out a laugh before Kirishima could respond, leveling you with a dark look. “It’s an aphrodisiac. It’ll turn you into a little horny mess, and the only hard part of getting you home will be making sure you don’t try to jump Kiri or I before we can get you in the car.” He sniggered, much to your horror.

Kirishima sighed, even though you could tell he wanted that to happen. His fingers were tapping against the syringe impatiently, his body shifting subtly; he almost looked like he was holding back from jumping you himself. You gulped. You felt so cold, goosebumps rising along your flesh as you shivered. Was it because the room was cold, or because of fear? You couldn’t tell. Kiri stood up, producing a key from his pocket as he stepped towards you. He leaned down to unlock the chain strapping your hands to the table, before straightening, looking down at you threateningly.

“You be nice and good while we walk you out, otherwise Bakugou and I get to have our fun right here in the halls, where everyone can see.”

You felt trapped. There was nothing for you to do but nod.

#ew lol #yandere #polykiribaku #poly relationship #kirishima eijirou #kirishima x reader #yandere kirishima #bakugou katsuki #yanderebakugou #bakugou x reader #stalking #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere kirishima eijirou #yandere kiri #yandere boku no hero academia #boku no hero fanfic #yandere oneshot #oneshot #kiri

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redhawtriot · 4 years

Text

Baby Boom (Bakugou x Reader)

Sooo... I think It’s the size of my tag list that was fucking this chapter up so much! Every time I have more than my previous chapter had, this chapter deletes itself from my page/drafts! I’ve contacted Tumblr about it, but don’t cross ur finger’s on that one lol. I am sorry if you weren't able to make the list!

(If you beta read for me you could read the chapters up to an entire day ahead of every else tho! If ur interested in that, just inbox me!)

HnM

Tip Jar ☕- Not expected but always appreciated💞

Month 1, Month 2 , Month 3,

--Month 4--

‘SLAM!’

The front door crashed shut like ammunition through cannon fire. The sharp bang clapped and echoed throughout the small, otherwise quiet living space, and soon, three roommates filed out of their respective rooms. One by one, they inched out to get a glimpse of the oncoming storm: Hurricane Katsuki.

Denki warily removed his gaming headpiece as Bakugou whipped past his bedroom door, “Oh hey, Bakugou! You sure disappeared outta nowhere. We coulda used the backup in squads! Where’d ya go, man!?”

The others listened carefully for the explosive blond’s answer, but got nothing short of an insult in return,

“None of your business, you damn idiots. GO DIE ALREADY!” and with that, Hurricane Katsuki simply slammed the door shut-- somehow even louder than before.

Kaminari, who had gotten the brunt of the explosion, was left wide eyed,

“Woah…”

Sero gave a low whistle as he shook his head at Bakugou’s shut door, “Looks like a wild Teenage Bakugou has entered the chat.”

Denki gave an abrupt, slightly uncomfortable chuckle at the remark, but soon gulped, giving his roommates a concerned gaze, “So… should we…” he trailed off.

Kirishima fervently nodded, stepping fully out into the hallway, “I’ll go check on him, guys.” He flexed before making his way to Bakugou’s room—a nervous habit he had picked up somewhere along the line to reassure himself before he dived headfirst into rough situations.

He looked back to his other two roommates one last time and threw a pleading glance as if to say “Wish me all of the luck” before giving a few slight knocks to the rage-secreting room, “Bakugou,” he called out, “You okay, buddy? I know that there is something up. There’s no point in hiding it…we can talk?”

No answer.

Kirishima gave a long sigh, “Well, when you finally want to talk about it, you know where to find me...”

The other roommates sighed as well before both retreating to their rooms and shutting their doors. Kiri turned to make his way back to his room as well, but only made it a few feet before Bakugou’s door sharply yanked open a few inches.

“Where are those other idiots?” Bakugou’s eyes were redder than their usual vermilion as he glared out from the cracked doorway. Kirishima gave a thick blink in surprise. Had he… had he been crying?

“They back in their rooms?” Bakugou said very lowly. His voice had an extra hint of raspiness weighing it down, Kirishima noticed.

“Y-Yeah.” Eijirou quickly replied, startled by the unseemly sight of his best friend, “They’re prolly back on the game by now.” Bakugou did not say another word as he threw his door open a few more inches and marched deeper into his room to stiffly throw himself on the edge of his bed. Kirishima cautiously followed him-- this was as good of an invitation as any in ‘Bakugou language.’

Bakugou sat, glaring seriously at the floor in front of him, as if it offended him, and his leg bounced nervously. The red head uncomfortably cleared his throat. ‘Holy shit, what the hell is going on…?’ Kirishima had never seen him do that before, “You.. uh.. you wanna talk about it, buddy?”

No answer.

Kirishima waited a few beats before releasing another sigh and shutting the door behind him so that he could make his way to the bed. He sat down next to his best friend and simply sat deep in the silence with him. The two waited for what seemed like hours before someone finally spoke up,

“I got a girl pregnant,” Bakugou said very flatly, still glaring at the floor and bouncing his leg.

Kirshima had to stifle the choke that erupted out of his throat as his own saliva sneaked into his larynx, “Ack! Achkaka!” His natural bodily functions were completely forgotten as his brain tried to compute the sudden and drastic information that was just thrown at him.

Bakugou?? Pregnant? He never thought he would hear the words in the same room, let alone the same sentence! The guy hardly ever did anything but work, work out and come home to play video games. He didn’t converse with people. He didn’t get girls pregnant. Girls didn’t even look at him!

In his coughing fit, Kirishima’s speech was also forgone, “I-I- uh.. man that.. wow I…” he tripped and tumbled over his words. He was dreaming. He had to be. Well, either that or he had wandered into some strange episode of the Twilight Zone or something.

Bakugou’s glare at the floor intensified, “I thought she might not be so bad… but I didn’t want to be with her like this,” Kirishima’s eyes widened at the underlying tone of hurt buried under his friend's words, and then they widened even further once he realized what he just said.

Had Bakugou fallen for someone for the first time?? And then his eyes widened the furthest as things finally began to click within his confused mind.

He sucked into a sharp gasp, “You mean that model!?”

Bakugou simply scoffed, finally relieving his glare form the ground and focusing his hot gaze on Kirishima, “Yeah, turns out she’s actually a fucking bitch.”

Kirishima’s jaw dropped, “BAKUGOU! That’s the mother of your child! You shouldn’t—”

“She didn’t remember the night at all. I was just another fuck toy for her,” Bakugou stood up and clenched his fists over and over again as if they itched to be slammed against something—tears welling up in his red-hot eyes, “Now tell me if the roles were reversed, how shitty it’d be then, huh?” Kirishima immediately shut his mouth from speaking up anymore as he allowed his friend to release his feelings. It wasn’t often that Bakugou built up enough to let things out this way.

Bakugou scoffed again as he began pacing the room, but Kirishima swore that it had the hint of a cry layered within it somewhere, “they might not even be mine since she likes that ‘fuck toy shit’ so much. That night meant nothing to her…” he threw his arm against the wall, effectively tearing a hole into it

Kirishima jumped a bit from the action as his mind briefly wandered to the security deposit on their lease. He pushed these thoughts away as Bakugou stiffly returned to the bed, his leg bouncing even more fervently than before.

Kirishima simply watched for a moment to allow his friend to simmer down before he spoke up very softly, “But you think it is yours though…”

Bakugou’s eyes snapped up to Kirishima’s, whose eyebrows were furrowed deeply into each other as he stared back.

In all his years of knowing Katsuki Bakugou, Kirishima would have never described his best friend with anything even resembling ‘gullible.’ His gut feeling and instinct were as sharp as ever and hardly ever wrong,

“Must be for a reason then…” he tried to look past the tears that filled up within his best friends eyes but they still left his heart feeling a little heavier than usual, “If you think it’s yours then I’ll have your back no matter what buddy. You’re not alone in this.”

“They.”

“What…” Kirishima eyebrows folded toward the center of his expression.

“She’s having fucking twins.”

“Holy Sh…” Kirishima quickly swallowed his words as he took in the forlorn expression plastered onto his friend’s face. There was no room for him to be shocked right now. He had to be Bakuous ‘rock’ so to speak, “I-I mean congratulations!”

Meanwhile you found yourself studying the woman in the reflection of your mirror. Your eyes trailed every detail of her swollen, red eyes. Then to her hair that was fuller than you had remembered—the beauty of bottled color maybe? You danced over the way that loose strands stuck to the slimy mess of tears and mucosa that had accumulated on your cheeks.

Nasty.

A sharp chuckle came out of you, spittle following not too shortly after, but as it reached your ears it resembled more of a cry.

Okay, that’s enough self loathing for one lifetime.

And with that, you moved away from the mirror; however, as you did so, your sight basically smacked the open cabinet of liquor bottles that you were eyeing earlier.

Okay…. Maybe not quite enough self loathing. Your mouth began watering at the delectable sight. It was a desert after a delicious four course meal. There was always room for more…

With a shake of your head, you brought your hand up to smack these thoughts out of your mind. What was wrong with you? You had been a lot of things in life, but were you really so low to bring yourself to effectively murdering your own children?

That’s what would happen if you drank, right?

You loudly groaned as more tears slipped from your eyes. You really didn’t know shit when it came to this pregnancy thing.

Your mind briefly wondered to Baby Notes Vol 1. You should probably take the time to actually read through it a little. Skimming it wouldn’t kill you.

Physically.

The sudden pounding at your door snapped you almost immediately out of your thoughts.

“Y/N?? Y/N, it’s me!”

With a final pathetic sigh you found yourself gathering up all the alcohol from the cabinets that you could into your arms and placing them in the bathtub before jotting over to the door.

As soon as you opened it Deku barged in and gripped you softly, “I came as soon as you called! What’s up, what's wrong?! Are you okay??” His eyes frantically danced around your wet eyes and red sockets before he allowed them to roam all over you, checking for injury.

He wouldn’t ever think that Kacchan was the type of guy to put his hands on you, especially with how much he’s grown since high school, but the nagging voice in the back of Izuku’s mind fervently reminded him of all of the bruises and burns and numberless emotional scars he accumulated with he was quirkless from his childhood friend.

And here was a woman he deeply cared about-- quirkless—having to spend time alone with said childhood friend.

“What’s wrong??” Izuku found himself repeating as his hands mindlessly wiped the fluid from your cheeks. As soon as he committed the action, however, his face ran completely red and he quickly released you from his grip, so that he could get a grip of himself.

You didn’t notice his slip up, and if you did you sure as hell didn’t care at the moment. There were more pressing matters at hand. Two to be exact, “Twins,” you simply said to him as tears began flowing down your cheeks more furiously.

“Huh? Oh… Oh.” Izuku’s eyes went wide as your words sunk in. As soon as he threw you an obviously apologetic glance you threw yourself into his chest and sobbed throwing him a bit off guard as he barely caught you in his arms.

Izuku’s eyes nervously roamed around your home as if he were searching for the right thing to say to you, but as he made contact with an open pantry in your kitchen, his jaw dropped-- your alcohol pantry.

It was far less full than it had been the last time that he visited, “Y/N… What’s with the… have you been drinking?” he pulled you away from his chest and looked seriously into your eyes.

The sight honestly kind of scared you a little—like a 15-year-old being caught with their first beer-- that is, until you remembered that you were innocent as fuck, “No,” you gave a slight chuckle through your tears at the sudden surge of intimidation, “I need your help getting rid of it.”

You walked away from Izuku for a moment, leaving him confused and a bit wary of where this was going, until you returned with a hammer—leaving him even more concerned,

You were aiming for bad ass Harley Quinn vibes, but you were sure that with a dried trail of tears on your cheeks and the force smile splitting your face you came across like more of a psycho ass Harley Quinn. Furthermore, the look on Deku’s face screamed that you were correct (also it screamed ‘GET THIS GIRL IN A STRAIGHT JACKET!’).

“What are you gonna do with THAT?” Izuku squealed.

“I need to get my favorite bottles out of the house. Stat. and you're gonna help me.” At your words, Deku gave a gigantic sigh of relief, but still kept his eyes glued on the hammer in your hands. You noticed and shrugged a bit, “Smashing things is also really cathartic. I am sure you of all people can agree with that.”

“Heh… Yeah. But are you sure this is okay? I mean, I don't want to raise your blood pressure or anything because--”

“Deku. Less talk, more smash,” you threw a towel in your tub to make clean up a little easier, and so you didn't knock a chunk of tile on your bathtub. You gave Deku one last glance. He was still looking very uncertain, but you threw him a short smile before bringing the hammer down onto a bottle of tequila. The bottle instantly shattered, sending bits of glass throughout your tub. You looked up to give Deku an excited glance, and surprisingly, he returned one right back.

“See? Not so bad!”

But you spoke too soon as the scent kicked you in the fucking nose. It was too far to turn back now. You choked down your nausea and handed Deku the Hammer, “You go ahead and get started. I’ll go get another weapon-- I mean… tool,” you corrected yourself after he sent you a terrified stare.

As you made your way back to the after grabbing your second weapon-- I mean tool a sudden thought crossed your mind. Without hesitation, you pulled your phone out and dialed in,

“Hello?”

“Yes. How may I help you today?” Dr. Yamakawa sounded from the other line.

“It’s Y/N…Y/N L/N…” you trailed off, hoping that you wouldn't have to say the ‘p word’ or anything relating to it.

His old ass better take the hint. To your dismay, his old ass did not take the hint, and a long pause of awkward silence filled the air.

You pursed your lips together in annoyance, “Mama Bakugou,” you clarified through gritted teeth, still dancing around the fact that you were a maternity patient of his.

“Ohhhhh!” He exclaimed, causing your face to fall into an expression of disappointment as he continued, “What can I do for you, Mama Bakugou?!”

This mf. You internally ground and fought the urge to facepalm, “Well. I need you to write a doctors note for me.”

“For…?”

“Work?”

“For your pregnancy? Dear, why don’t you just take maternity leave for that?”

“No.” In the moment you shook your head even knowing that he couldn't see you, “I need a few weeks more before I can tell my job about this… situation. I’m a model. They own me through a contract and I didn't exactly add two roommates to the lease on my body...”

There was a pause on the other line, causing your heart to lurch a bit, but things soon went back to normal when he finally spoke up, “I’ll see what I can do. I’ll email you something.”

You gave one final thanks (and an internal ‘yessss’) before making your way back to the bathroom, “Hey Deku, sorry it took me so long I was just--” you froze at the sight in front of you. The shirt that Izuku wore was completely drenched in liquid and your tub had a gigantic hole on the side.

Your lips fumbled over themselves as you gawked at the spectacle. Deku could only send you a nervous laugh,

“Uh, hahaaa… Can we be done now? This… this burns,” he rapidly blinked the liquid from his eyes as he glances back down to the lot of broken bottles in your tub before throwing your one more pleading glance.

You choked down a laugh, causing it to flee from you in the form of a snort, “Someone had some pent up aggression, huh?”

In response, his face delved into a deep shade of red, “I.. uh..” he had no idea how to answer you when you looked at him like that-- your lips curved into a stunning smirk of a smile. Izuku promptly cleared his throat, “C-can I take a shower?”

“Obviously not that one-- you're totally fixing that by the way Mr. Big Shot Hero,” with a laugh you swiftly made your way to him and carefully grabbed the hammer from his grasp, looking up to see his face dive even deeper into crismon. You flashed a smile at the display. He really was adorable as hell.

You took in his face bit by bit-- his soft, blushed skin, his freckles cheeks, his round eyes. As you digested his expression you swore you could see an entire forest within his stare. Suddenly your heart pinged.

“Uh, Y/N,” Izuku interrupted your thoughts, causing your heart to throb for a different reason as you suddenly realized the proximity of the two of you. You stepped back so fast that your head spun. At least, you hoped that was why your head was spinning,

“You can use my shower.” you said very abruptly as you turned away from him,gesturing him to follow you to your bedroom.

Your bedroom. Your hear throbbed once more. Deep down, you hoped that you were about to have a heart attack or something; however, something within you told you that that probably was not the case. You swallowed hard.

What the fuck was happening?

‘KNOCK kNOCK KNOCK’

The next morning you found yourself stirring awake to a loud succession of banging. Your eyes fluttered open for a moment only before they snapped back shut. The magnet drawing them together and you closer to sleep was much stronger than whatever noise was trying to wake you up, “Mhmfmfm…” you muttered as you rolled over on the couch and pulled the blanket over your head.

Izuku, however, was not one to ignore such an obvious noise and he found himself trudging off of the other sofa he slept on to answer whoever was banging on the door.

‘KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!’

“Coming!” the green haired man tiredly called out as he launched himself toward the front door and swung it open.

The astounded face on the other side of the entrance soon mirrored his own.

“Kacchan!” Izuku exclaimed.

Bakugou’s shocked expression very quickly contorted into one of pure rage, “What the hell is going on here?!” He screamed causing you to jolt awake as you threw the blanket over your head. You found yourself fumbling up as Bakugou continued to scream pointed to Deku, “The fuck is he here for??”

You made your way over to the two men- one seemingly terrified, and the other obviously enraged. As your head began lifting from the daze of sleep, you crossed your arms and glared at Bakugou, “He spent the night helping me with something,” you shook your head, trying to free yourself from the oncoming headache, “Hey, better question: why are you here?”

Bakugou seemed to swallow his own tongue as his jaw clenched shut, “I wanted to… uh…” he glared at the ground as he tried to find his next words. Shit. why was this so fucking hard? He should have never listened to that Shitty Hair and come over here. Bakugou scoffed to himself before redirecting his stern gaze back toward you, “Come with me.”

You could only blink.

What kind of caveman talk…You tilted your head as you fleetingly threw a confused glance toward Deku, who only shrugged in response.

Bakugou quickly grew tired of yours and Dekus silent conversation, “You wanna hang out or not??” he growled before throwing another heated finger toward Deku, “And he can’t come.”

“I was just heading out anyways. It’s no big deal really!” Izuku defensively threw his hands up as if to show Bakugou that he was no threat at all. He went to gather a few of his belongings from the sofa he slept on before throwing Bakugou one more gaze-- this one a lot more astute.

A majority of Midoriya’s mind told him that there was nothing to worry about at all, but there was still a small section of him that couldn't shake the memories of how Bakugou treated him as a quirkless child. Izuku knew that he would never hurt you! But… just in case…

“You take care of her Kacchan,” the tone came off pleadingly but the look in his eyes was a bit stern. You had never seen this portion of Deku before and it almost instantly caused your chest to thud, harshly reminding you of last night’s sensations. Shit.

“Don't tell me what the fuck to do, Deku. Those are my kids in there. Not yours. You just remember that,” Bakugou scoffed, causing Izuku’s expression to falter ever so slightly before he fixed it again.

Your jaw dropped at the sheer bluntness of his statement, “Kacchan, what the f--”

“I guess you’re right, Kacchan,” Izuku began, “Sorry if I crossed a boundary,” he smiled at Bakugou-- who only huffed in return-- and quickly turned to you, making the tightness in your chest worse, “Bye, Y/N!” Izuku smiled, almost too innocently, considering the raging war in your gut at the moment.

You smiled back-- a feeble attempt at masking the inner turmoil ravaging your insides. “Peace, bb,” you gave him a weak hug before gesturing him out of your home. You threw him one final smile before shutting the door. You instantly whipped your head back around the the blonde brat behind you, “What. The. Fuck!?”

“I already told you. I want to hang out.”

“Are you fucking allergic to texting or some shit??” you yelled, “You just waltz in like you own the damn place and demand me to ‘Ohhh ahhh wo-man! come with me, wo-man’,” you renacthed his prehistoric behavior.

Bakugou felt his muscles tighten in response to your taunting. Your loud nature, mixed with the confrontational behavior was reminding him way too much of his own mother. He swore on his life that he would never end up with a woman like her and yet, here he was standing in front of her fucking carbon copy. The thought made him sick as he groaned in frustration,

“Shitty hair was fucking wrong!” Bakugou spat, causing your eyebrows to furrow in confusion as he continued, “The last thing I want to do is hang out with a bitching hag like you!!”

Your jaw dropped, “Excuse me??” You have heard pretty much every other insult in the book hurdled at you, but ‘hag’ was never one of them. You laughed, “I wasn’t a hag when you fucked me all night, huh?!”

“Yeah? I don't know what was wrong with me then. You are way different when I am not pumped full of alcohol, apparently.”

Your laughter immediately ceased, “Whatever. you came up to me and confessed your love like a raging SIMP, and now all of a sudden I’m a bitch?

“Fuck! Well, I got to know you past a pretty, stupid, fucking face!”

You blinked in shock. The unfamiliar feeling of your heart sinking into the pit of your stomach overwhelmed you as hurt surrounded your face. Practically your entire life, being beautiful has been a mask of sorts for your overwhelming failures. Still, here this man was-- practically a stranger-- seeing past your facade, looking directly into the steaming pile of shit that you truly were. Your eyes suddenly became warm as tears filled them,

“Then why the fuck are you even here, asshole?? TO PISS ME OFF?” you shouted, throwing your hands by your side and clenching them so tightly that your nails dug into your skin.

“BECAUSE I WANTED TO KNOW ALL OF YOU!” he screamed back. The shocking words fled out from under his harsh tone and stunned you as your brain processed them. You felt your fist unfurl a bit as he continued, “I wanted to know you. Good and bad. Bitchy and not. You're carrying my children… I want to know them,” he finished, almost defeated. This tell of emotion was obviously the last thing he wanted to be doing, you could tell.

Still, it meant a lot for some reason that he felt that he could do this with you “Oh,” you breath out, unable to articulate much else.

“Oh?!” he angrily repeated. Bakugou felt his face shrivel in disgust. He just poured out his being to you once more for you to trample on it like a fucking gymnast mat. However, as Bakugou formed his mouth to say something else, you halted him,

“Go… have a seat,” you gestured to the couch, blinking the accumulating liquid in your eyes away. The blond could only shoot a lone eyebrow up in response, causing you to sigh in exasperation, “Well, Are you just gonna stand there looking like that, or what?” he gave you one final scoff before making his way to one of your couches and seating himself comfortably, propping one of his feet on your coffee table as he glared at the non functioning television.

“Welcome, I guess. I am sure you’ll have no issue making yourself comfortable,” you deadpanned, eyeing his propped up legs, “I’ll go make us some… tea?” you suggested , but no answer came from him, “Tea it is.”

You rolled your eyes before trudging away. You always loved green tea, but for some reason the smell had been killing you lately, so you opted for peppermint tea instead. It was inferior by, far, but it matched the inferior, pathetic life that you had adopted recently.

Jeez. How much self deprecation can you fit into one week? Would this have any effect on the babies? If so, they’d probably come out singing RnB or some shit in the maternity ward. They’d have already stressed dyed hair and an entire Tumblr dedicated to sad aesthetics before they reached their first birthday, for god's sake.

You vehemently shook your head to once again get rid of the oncoming headache that snuck in with these disgusting thoughts, “So Kacchan!” you called out as you walked back to the living room, “What do you wanna know?”

“Don’t call me that,” he simply barked.

“What?”

“Don’t call me that name. I fucking hate it.”

You snorted and took a seat next to his glaring figure. You tried not to notice how he shifted further away from you as you sat down, “I am sure Deku disliked being called worthless his whole life too,” you smirked up at him, “I bet he fucking hated it.”

The atmosphere seemed to once more shift into a much heavier tone after your statement and the room fell quiet for a few beats. Bakugou’s small glare morphed into a much more forced one. It was as if he was trying to use the glare to hide another feeling, you noticed.

Finally, he spoke, “How much do you know.”

You tilted your head into another shrug, “Enough to know that you probably hate the fact that I am quirkless.”

His face contorted into one of pure disgust as the glareful mask he wore faded away like yesterday’s lunch. “I don’t give a fuck,” he argued, but the look you sent him showed no sign of believing it. Bakugou’s disgust deepened, but he made sure to control it enough to where you didn't know that it was directed towards himself.

“Oh really? Let’s see if you can keep that same energy when one of your kids pops out without that flashy quirk of yours,” Of course his face fell, just as you suspected it would. Just like it had for multiple other men you had told.

Most men’s pride utterly shrivels into dust as soon as the pretty girl in front of them-- the one that they fantasize about having a dream life with-- ends up telling them that they are quirkless. As soon as the words fall out of your mouth, the men's dreamy gaze effectively shatters alongside their hopes and dreams concerning you.

Nobody wants to pass weakness onto their children.

“You know what? I think I’ll go first,” you snapped him out of the uncomfortable, uncharacteristic silence, and he gave you an irritated, questioning glance, “You wanted to play 20 questions with me, or whatever. No limitations, okay? And I have the first question for you,” you explained before sending him a challenging gaze, “How could someone so full of hate truly aspire to be a hero?”

You expected him to blow up at you-- to scream, and yell and argue that you were wrong.

Yet.

The slightly apologetic, yet stern look on his face threw you for an absolute loop, “I wanted to win.” he simply answered. Somehow his matter of a factness was worse for you than any furious defensive scenario you had conjured in your mind, but as you went to open your mouth with a roll of your eyes, he halted you,

“That was when I was younger, “ he sharply clarified, “I wanted to win more than anything. To be better than everyone else—and that hasn’t changed but there's more to it now. I have to protect the people I care about—like my idiot roommates—I want to make sure we all come home safe by the end of the night.”

Once again he had thrown you off with a surprisingly normal non-caveman response, “That was actually…”

“My turn,” Bakugou abruptly cut you off, “How many men the you fuck this past few months?”

Your jaw dropped.

And back to Neanderthal you mother fucking guess! “Are you fucking kiddin—”

“You said no limitations,” he gruffly stated.

You bit your tongue and shot him a glare that could match his own before giving a sharp sigh, “Four during the last year. You were the last and the only one during the month I… conceived,” you swallowed as the word left a bitter taste in your mouth, “My turn. What about you?”

“What.”

“How many women the past year?”

“Why the hell does it matter?” Bakugou argued. Your eyes shot down to his body as it shifted around even further from you. From his body language you could tell that his answer was sure to be outrageously high.

He was an extremely attractive guy after all. Those rippling arms were nothing to fuck around with. His red hot eyes could melt steel beams with a passing glance. The chisel of his permanently hardened expression could slice through even the most secured of panties.

Yes. and there was no denying that he was a sex god in his own right.

It also didn't help that his temperament sucked, so you doubted he had had many long term relationships. He had all of the ingredients of a man whore stirring within him.

“I’m just curious,” you shrugged.

Bakugou threw his glare away from you for a moment as he contemplated on whether or not to answer your stupid question. He had his own questions to ask you still so he guessed that he didn't really have a choice if he wanted his answers,“...One.”

Your jaw dropped, “Seriously?” as his face fell into a furious shade of red you were smacked with a sudden realization,

“Kacchan, did you... lose your virginity to m...?” He glared even further away from you, but you could still see his ears falling even deeper into red-- effectively giving you your answer, “Oh my…” he trailed off. No wonder he was so fucking head over heels for you! Through your discomfort a horribly timed joke flew past your lips,

“You knocked her up on the first try huh? You’ve got some super swimmers,” you half laughed, but Bakugou obviously didn't find anything funny about it as he snarled angrily as you,

“Shut up!” he barked, throwing a pillow at you, “My turn. What’s up with you and that shitty Deku?”

The pillow hit you, but it was really his question that had smacked you in the face. Your chest thudded, and you prayed to whoever was listening that he couldn't see the racing of your heart, “He’s just a friend! A really good friend to me. Probably my first actual friend ever,” you said this as a joke, but obviously forgot who you were talking to.

“You didn’t make any in high school?” Bakugou’s face twisted up disbelievingly.

“Never went. Couldn’t afford the tuition...” now it was you who was uncomfortably shifting from him.

“Your parents didn’t help you out?”

“Slow down there, buckaroo,” you laughed, but his face remained as stern as ever as you continued, “That’s like three questions In a row for you. My turn.”

Luckily he caught the hint and didn't press upon the subject any further.

Through the night, you found out a lot of things about him. He was actually younger than you by a few years at twenty years old. His parents were both fashion designers (probably the biggest fucking shock to you considering his choice of black shirts and flannels) and that he was working on making his own hero agency since he had already climbed up the ranks in Japan.

Your game, however, was cut short by the growling of your stomach.

Bakugou almost immediately stood up, surprising you as he walked to your kitchen. Well, you did say ‘make yourself at home’ but this was a little upfront wasn't it? He soon yelled to you from the kitchen as you sat in shock still, “What do you have to eat in this shit hole?!”

Shit hole? You glance around at the decorations and clean atmosphere that you pride yourself on. That jerk. Your house was not a shit hole! “You can eat shit if you want. I’m not hungry.”

“The hell are you talking about? I just heard your stomach growling.”

You shrugged, “Just indigestion. I get a lot of stomach issues with these things inside of me,” the sudden clanging of pots and pan in your kitchen startled you, “What the hell are you doing??” you called out before marching to your kitchen.

You found him rummaging through your cabinets, stopping momentarily to judgmentally eye your still plentiful liquor cabinet for a moment before moving on, “You can starve yourself all you fucking want, but you're not fucking starving my kids.”

Your breath hitched in your throat at his accusation, “I’m not starving.”

“You think I’m fucking blind?”

“I have to stay in shape for work. Just like you I am sure,” you walked up to him and grabbed a bicep for demonstration, but he quickly threw your hand away from him as his face fell into a bout of shock. He quickly regained himself,

“Whatever,” he grunted before swinging open your refrigerator.

“What are y—Hey!” you yelped as he began haphazardly throwing food onto one of your counters.

“Is all you have in here rabbit food? Jesus fucking Christ,” he ignored your cries and began throwing certain items together and heating up a pot of water.

You couldn't help but blink at the display. He seemed pretty natural in the kitchen and that in itself was unnatural considering his caveman persona, “You... cook?” you felt uneasy.

“You don’t?”

Honestly, your diet consisted of salads and ramen since you were 15, so cooking wasn't a necessity. You reluctantly shook your head at him.

He looked completely disappointed and disgusted with you but, hey, what else is new? Bakugou scoffed, “Well you’re gonna have to learn how now. Pay attention.”

You rolled your eyes at him. If you wanted fucking Gordon Ramsey bitching you around in the kitchen you would have clicked on that stupid ad that always popped up on your Youtube. Then again, Bakugou was more of a Guy Fieri with that spiky hair of his.

Whatever.

You guessed learning how to cook one meal wouldn't be too terrible,

“What are you stirring the water for if you didn’t put anything in it yet?”

“It helps it heat up faster, idiot.”

“Do you actually throw the noodles on the wall to see if they’re finished?”

Bakugou threw you a frown, “If you’re a fucking dumbass,” he said, moving you aside as he began stirring a saucer filled with vegetables. He completely disregarded your yelp as he moved you as a parade of thoughts bombarded his mind.

He would have to come over more and keep you and his kids fed if you truly didn’t know how to cook. He scoffed and his stirring hand more slightly more erratically with frustration. What kind of grown woman didn't know how to cook pasta?

His thoughts were halted by a loud squelch that sounded through the air. He immediately threw his gaze up to the wall in front of his face and his expression fell at the sight. He growled, snapping his gaze back toward you by the pot of pasta, “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” his furious glare danced between you and the wet noodle that stuck to the wall.

“I wanted to see if it would actually stick! Don’t get your balls in a twist, it was one noodle!”

“So damn wasteful,” Bakugou ground his teeth as he frustratedly scrapped the starchy pasta off of your wall. He opened his mouth to tell you just this, but immediately snapped it back shut as he felt something being thrown at his head, “that better not be what I think it is…” he snarled through his teeth as he eyed food dangling from one of the spines of his hair.

“Don’t worry, Kacchan. It’s not a worm,” you laughed, but your giddiness was soon cut off as a hot noodle was thrown back in your direction. You could only blink as it stuck itself on your nose.

“Hmph,” the corners of Bakugou’s lips slowly curled into a smirk, “It’s a good look on you, noodle face,” You laughed but once again was cut off. The brief sound of his laugh coinciding with your own shocked you.

His smile slowly died down as he caught wind of you gawking at him. He cleared his throat, “Are you done being a child? I’m ready to enjoy my good ass cooking.”

However, you didn't answer him as you once again found a smile creeping onto your face. He rolled his eyes and began making himself a plate of food, but he quickly grew tired of you smiling at him like some bimbo,

“What?!” He snapped, “You want another noodle to the face.”

You shook your head as you shuffled past him to serve yourself a plate, “No.. just you have a nice laugh.”

He scoffed, “That all you're eating?” he completely disregarded your comment but you decided to let it die too,

“I don’t see you with any food on your plate,” you shrugged, “I’d be more worried about yourself if I were you,” you winked at him before setting down at the table.

The night went pretty well after that. So well, in fact, that the two of you decided to have “parental meetings” every few days so that Bakugou could teach you how to cook. You ended up learning how to make 10 more dishes within the next three weeks.

Bakugou and you didn't exactly become close, but there were far less screaming matches than there had been in your first few meetings. You still didn't know him very well, but he wasn't necessarily a stranger anymore.

It was… nice.

The next check up came very quickly because of your lack of employment and your dates-- err um… “parental meetings” with Bakugou.

“Your twins should be about the size of avocados now! We’ll check again with a routine ultrasound. We do have the DNA tests in for you all so I’ll just go and run for those real quick.. well walk briskly. You don’t do an awful lot of running at my age.”

“I don’t do an awful lot of running now,” you joked, and Bakugou sent you a stern glare that screamed, ‘don’t encourage him.’ you shrugged as the doctor walked out of the room.

It was silent for what seemed like forever. You and Bakugou still weren't very good at sparking conversations, but eventually he spoke up as you laid back on the exam table, “You're really fucking showing now.”

You brows instantly came together, high fiving each other in your state of being roasted, “Thanks...” you deadpanned.

The look on your face sent a wave of hurt through the blond’s heart.

What the hell. It was like he felt your hurt. For the first time in a long time, Bakugou actually regretted his choice of words. He glared at the ground as he attempted to change the subject, “You’ve been eating, right?”

“How else Would I be sitting here, looking fat and talking to you, Kacchan.”

“I told you don’t call me that,” he paused, as if he were really considering his next statement, “Call me Katsuki,” he finally dragged out.

You rolled your eyes, “Okay, Kacchan.”

Just as Bakugou open his mouth the no doubt scream at you, Dr. Yamakawa entered the room,

“Mama Bakugou! We have some really good news. Everything seems fine with the twins according to the DNA testing. One is a little small right now, but it’s completely normal for there to be a dominant twin so to speak. No genetic abnormalities or health concerns,” you saw Bakgou visibly stiffen at this before relaxing as the doctor continued, “’Cept for you.”

You shook your head, blinking heavily as if you’d just been punched in the brow, “Me?”

“You do have a concerning BMI—you tend to lean a little towards underweight. I understand you are in the profession of modeling correct,” he said very, curtly, “You need to add more calories to your daily intake. You wont need to ‘eat for three” as they say, but you do need to put on some substantial pounds or you will risk a premature birth..”

You had no fucking idea what to say to that. ‘Nice?’ ‘Cool beans.’ ‘fucking just give me the mother of the year award already!’ You felt your chest tighten and suddenly you realized you hadn't been breathing. You sucked in abruptly, causing the doctor to take a step towards you,

“You're looking a little flushed there, Mama Bakugou.”

“Well how else is she supposed to respond when you tell her like that, old man?!” Bakugou snapped, causing both you and the doctor to gawk at him.

“Kacchan! What the fuck don’t talk to him like that, jerk!”

Bakugou scoffed, throwing his glare, much more pouty this time-- to the jar of cotton balls on the counter of the office.

“It wouldn't help either of you to sugar coat this, son,” the doctor sighed, “You have made it this far along in her pregnancy. Miscarriage is substantially less likely but if you want to give these babies a better chance, I’d suggest higher caloric intake.”

Needless to say, Bakugou did not leave the doctor's office that day a very pleasant man. He would angrily stalk ahead of you a for a few moments before pausing and grumbling about how ‘fucking slow’ you were as you caught up before the cycle would start all over again. You could only take this for so long, however,

“What!?” you yelled suddenly as the grumbling phase of his cycle began once more, “Will you stop fucking brooding already and speak your mind—”

He instantly snapped his face towards your own to stare into your eyes. You fumbled back a bit as the intense vermilion bore into you. You opened your mouth to speak but his serious expression exclaimed something before yours could,

“I wanna move in with you.”

You paused. You couldn't have fucking heard that right.

He… wants to...

“What…?” you mouthed.

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