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takumislut777sexycumdumplongass · 8 months

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˜”°•.˜”°• You're mine now, Private •°”˜.•°”˜

Nymph: Hey! So this is a repost from my old blog that I've edited and added more to it! It's also for @semisgroupie's What's Done in the Dark Collab!

Summary: You decided to join the Marines in efforts to spite a certain blonde Gunnery Sergeant. Little did you know he’d taken an intense desire for you.

CW: Dom!Bakugou, Sub!F reader, Light Bondage, Blindfolds, Gagging, Vibrators, Shower Sex, Masturbation(F receiving), Hand Jobs, Oral Sex (M & F receiving), Vaginal Sex, rough sex, Sex Toys, creampies, squirting , Daddy Kink, Primal Play, Praise, Degradation, Counting, Usage of the nickname “Princess”

Word count: 16.8k

Tags: @katsukichu @bakugosbratx @hvziers @rinnori @sailewhoremoon @babiefwuit @angelltheninth @monaukah @awilddreamermain @tokyometronetwork @suyacho

You walked around aimlessly within the large ballroom that your college had to host the career fair in. You felt slightly overwhelmed by all the booths and panels around you. You were just a general studies major. The jack of all trades, yet master of none. You did not know where you belonged. You glanced over at a booth that held many colorful posters boasting about Telemarketing and how it would be the future of the world and couldn’t help but to scoff slightly.

‘Even I know a cheap hack job when I see one.’ A flash of camo caught your eye and you blinked owlishly at the panel near the center of the crowd. You could barely make any of it out due to the massive swarm of females that were blocking the view, but you did manage to see that it was two men standing in military uniforms. One was cute and had long, bright red hair that was tied up into a neat bun at the nape of his neck, kind red eyes, and a friendly smile.

The other was a rather handsome man with short cropped yet still spikey blonde hair with an undercut design. His sleeves were tightly rolled up to show off muscular and heavily tattooed arms. His narrowed red eyes seemed to pierce right through anyone who dared to look into them.

You were fidgeting as you read the banner. “The Marines”. You were always a bit hesitant about joining a military branch even though you came from a military family and was a rather strong willed girl. You were graduating soon and did need to find a job, that was the whole reason why you were here at this career fair, but to join such a battle hardened company like the Marines? Did you really want to commit to this? You jumped when a gruff voice called out to you.

“Oi, Dumbass?” The blonde called out.

You looked around for a few seconds before pointing at yourself with a confused look. ‘I know this asshole...’

The blonde shot you a cheeky grin as he crossed his arms and motioned for you to move closer. “Yeah, I’m talking to you, Dumbass. Are you going to keep standing over there like a weak little Princess? Or do you want to join the Marines?” He was testing you, you could feel it. He wanted to see if you could handle the disrespect that would come out of the mouth of a Drill Instructor.

With a renewed fire in youreyes, you pushed a girl out of yourway and squared up to the blonde. “Who do you think you are?”

“Gunnery Sergeant Katsuki Bakugou.” He said smugly, his lips curled up into a smirk that you wanted to smack off his face. “So what’ll it be, dumbass? You think you got what it takes to be a marine?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, a sneer on your face as you stared him directly in the eyes. “Depends, Gunny, can you handle me being in the marines? They don’t usually let Drill Instructors be recruiters.” you smiled when his eyes widened slightly in surprise at your knowledge. You were a proud Military brat so you knew the lingo and the attires. You spotted the wide large brown brimmed hat that all Drill Instructors would wear during boot camp.

Katsuki smiled as he leaned forward slightly, towering over your smaller frame standing in front of him. “Not bad for a dumbass.” He then reached for the pamphlet resting on the table that separated the two of you. “Fill this out and come by the office when you’re done. I’ll make a woman out of you, Recruit.”

“I’m already too much of a woman for you, Gunnery Sergeant.” you took the pamphlet from his hands, but you did not expect him to grab your wrists and pull you as close as he could with the table separating you two.

“Careful, Recruit. I may just end up being your Drill Instructor. And I won’t go easy on a dumbass like you.” His warm breath fanned over you, causing heat to burn at your face.

Carefully, you took your wrist back, but only because you knew he allowed you to. (His grip was strong and his hands were so large compared to your thin wrists). You curled your lips up into a catty smile as you began to walk away, making sure you did a perfect half-right turn like your dad taught you. “Only time will tell, Sir. I will see you in the Recruiter’s office at 0800 sharp tomorrow.” You gave the blonde a perfect salute before walking away.

Bakugou watched the small woman walk away from the booth, a smirk twitching at his lips. He crossed his arms back over his chest as he leaned back against the wall as his eyes followed you. You were certainly a bratty little future recruit.

He’d enjoy breaking you down and making you cry once you were in his company boot camp. He nudged his partner who was flirting with some random girl. “Oi, shitty hair.”

Kirishima rolled his eyes as he excused himself from the girl he was talking about. “Sir?” He grimaced slightly at calling his best friend so formally, but Bakugou was a higher rank than he was. He frowned when he noticed that the blonde was watching the young woman he’d just handed a pamphlet to. But then a smile crossed his face as a thought struck him. “You want to break her, don’t you?”

“Make sure she’s in my company once her profile is complete, Kirishima.” Katsuki said as he pivoted on his right foot in a clean half right and walked off without another word. He would break the brattiness out of that cute future recruit. He licked his lips in anticipation of seeing you again the following morning for your interview. “You really think you’re too much of a woman for me, Princess? We will see indeed.”

-0-0-0

You woke the next day at 0715 and quickly got ready for your interview with that cocky asshole of a Marine Recruiter. When you had told your dad over the phone that you had decided to join the Marines, he’d scoffed while making a joke about how his “Squid-raised” daughter was turning into the enemy branch.

You knew that your father was holding out on the dream that you would follow in his footsteps and join the Navy, but that just never called out to you like the Marines did. A little evil voice in the back of your head told you that you were only interested because of the Gunnery Sergeant.

“Hell no, I’m not joining for that bastard!” you slapped your hands against your cheeks as you finished washing your face and brushed your teeth. You decided to wear one of your dad’s Navy t-shirts and a pair of cute denim shorts that showed off your legs and hugged your figure quite nicely. As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you realized what you were doing.

You growled, “Dammit! I am not attracted to that man!” You checked your watch and saw that it was 0745. You needed to leave now to be on time cause in the military being early meant you’re on time, on time means you’re late. And you were not about to give that man the satisfaction of calling you out on practicality.

You got into your car and drove to the recruiter’s office in less than five minutes. Double checking to make sure you had everything you needed to sign up, you got out. Walking up to the office, you drew in a deep calming breath to calm your suddenly frayed nerves.

What were you nervous about? It was just a meeting to talk over your enlistment. You may not even run into that cocky blonde asshole of a Gunny. Glancing down at your watch, you saw that it was 0755 and you needed to get inside or you’d be late.

Opening the door, you were greeted with a friendly smile. “Hey there! You must be the new recruit, Bakugou was going on about yesterday.” It was the redhead that was at the career fair. “I’m Sergeant Eijiro Kirishima, nice to meet you.” He reached out with a hand as a greeting.

You returned his kind smile with one of your own. At least this one was not a cocky sonovbitch like Gunny Katsuki Bakugou. “Nice to meet you, sir. I’m-”

Kirishima raised his hand to stop you as he grinned widely. “Oh, I already know your name, but for now, I’m just gonna call you “Tiny”.” He laughed when you gave him an annoyed look. What was with these Marine buffoons and never wanting to call new recruits by their real names?

You let out a huff and crossed your arms before walking over to the desk where Kirishima was standing next to. Looking up at him curiously when You noticed that he had yet to sit down, You arched a brow. “Aren’t you going to conduct my interview, Sergeant?” You nearly jumped out of your skin when someone suddenly clamped a firm hand on your shoulder.

“Oi, Dumbass, you really came.”

Your annoyance increased tenfold when you recognized that voice behind you. You quickly grabbed the hand on your shoulder and tried to remove it. You failed when he tightened his grip on you, causing you to grimace slightly. “Of course I came, Gunnery Sergeant. I am interested in becoming a Marine.”

Bakugou squeezed your shoulder tightly once more before moving to sit down in the chair behind the desk. His vermillion eyes scanned over you as you stared just as intensely as he was at you. “You’re dismissed, Kirishima. I’ve got this one.” He growled when his subordinate tried to protest slightly. “I said you’re dismissed, Sergeant! Don’t make me repeat myself, shitty hair!”

Kirishima was a bit surprised at how possessive Bakugou was towards this recruit. Usually they would share new female recruits, but it would seem as if Katsuki had no intention of letting this one go. Looking back over at you sitting in the chair, Kirishima sighed out dejectedly. You were a cute little thing, too. “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” Giving his commanding officer a salute and retreated to the back room.

“You enjoyed asserting your authority, didn’t you?” You said, rolling your eyes when he smirked down at him. You crossed your arms over your chest in an attempt to seem indifferent to him and that cocky ass smile on his face. When that did not work, you leaned over and grabbed your paperwork to hand to Bakugou.

Your back stiffened when his fingers grazed over yours when he took the packet from you. You quickly snatched your hand back and held it to your chest, your heart racing slightly.

Katsuki smirked as he looked down at you. You were being so coy now that you two were the only ones in the room. He scanned over your attire and frowned when he noticed that you were wearing a navy T-shirt.

Flipping through your paperwork, he saw that your father is a Navy veteran. “Tch, your dad was a Squid, no wonder you’re such a brat, dumbass.”

You let out a huff at the name he called me. “Look here asshole, do not insult my dad.” He could talk down about you all he liked, but no one and you meant no one was allowed to talk shit about your dad. Glancing back up at him, you drew in a sucking breath when you saw that he was staring at you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. Like he was the hunter and you were the prey. “You don’t scare me, Sir. I am a Navy brat and I know how you Marines are.”

Bakugou crossed his fingers and placed them under his nose, tilting his head slightly. “Who said I want you to be afraid, little recruit?” His eyes never left yours and he could see the confusion wavering in those eyes of yours. Eyes of a bratty little prey that he wanted to put in your place. “Anyway, Dumbass, why do you want to join?” He stared at you intently, carefully judging you as you took in another breath.

“Sir, I come from a heavily influenced Military family. My dad was part of the Navy, mother from the Air Force and I have two brothers, both in the Coast Guard.” you answered, never breaking away from his predatory gaze even though you wanted to shy away, but you never backed down from a challenge. “I am a strong willed person who can handle anything dished out to you and I will never back down from a challenge. I will serve my country beyond my abilities.”

A feral looking smile spread over the Gunny’s lips as he placed his hands down on the desk, long fingers splayed. “Never back down from a challenge, eh?” He rose to his feet slowly, his eyes locked with yours as he watched you shrink back when he stood to his full height. His smile curled up more when you hopped out of your seat as he stalked closer to you . “Little recruit, I thought you said you don’t back down?”

You could feel your body starting to tremble as you took several steps back to avoid the blonde as he advanced on you. You felt like a rabbit waiting to be devoured by a hungry wolf. It was not until your back touched the wall did you realize that you were trapped.

“Sir, what are you doing?” Your breath hitched when he slammed his hands against either side of your head and your hand came up to clutch at your chest. Why did you feel so small around him right now?

“Come now, little recruit.” He said as he leaned down on his elbows, his hot breath fanning out over your face. “Where are those nerves of steel you had yesterday? You can see you trembling. All talk no bite, dumbass?”

Bakugou reached out and cupped your chin in his fingers, tilting your face upward so that you were staring into his eyes. “Or was all that the Squid in you. You were such a little brat.” He slid his knee in between your legs, pressing up against your crotch.

A small whimper left your throat as you tried to turn your head away from him. “Sir, this is inappropriate.”

Bakugou leaned in closer, his scent overpowering your senses. “What is, Princess?” His lips were just a breath away before he pulled away with a cocky laugh. He moved his knee away from your legs and moved to sit back at his desk.

“I like you, little recruit.” Katsuki folded his hands under his nose once more as he analyzed the young woman. Your face was still slightly flushed and your hand still clutched your chest while the other was pressed tightly against the wall. “I’ll schedule your swearing in for next month.”

He grabbed a pen and began filling out some information in a small folder that was next to your paperwork.

You blinked in confusion. What the fuck just happened? Did he do all of this just to fluster you? You could feel your anger start to get the best of you as you marched over to where the arrogant male sat and pointed your finger at him. “You ass! Don’t you ever pull some shit like that ever again. I am not some little toy that you can play with.” His laugh caught you off guard.

“On the contrary, little recruit. Once you’re in boot camp, heh, your ass is mine.” His eyes narrowed in challenge as he dared you to question him.

Your eyes narrowed in challenge, glaring at him. “I belong to no one, sir. Just try to make me.” With those words said, you gathered your things and exited the building. “I will see you at training, Gunnery Sergeant Bakugou.”

-0-0-0

The following month seemed to fly by. You had spent time with your family and friends as they all prepared themselves for your inevitable departure to Parris Island, South Carolina. You hadn’t heard anything from that arrogant ass Katsuki Bakugou since that incident at the recruiter’s office. Your face still flushed every time you thought about how close he was to me. You could literally smell the bitter chocolate scent of the cologne he wore and feel his hot breath against your lips. You quickly slapped your cheeks. “Get it together, girl! You do not want that asshole! He insulted Dad.” But an evil sounding voice in the back of your head told you that you indeed did want the blonde and wanted him bad.

“Fuck it all to hell.” You cursed when your phone started ringing loudly on your desk. Who could be calling me? You told everyone that you would be busy this week in preparation for you swearing into the Marines. Glancing down at the screen, you saw that it was a number you did not recognize. “Hello?”

“Oi, dumbass. You ready for departure?”

You instantly pulled the phone away from your ear as shock registered on your face. How in the hell...Oh? The paperwork had your number on it. “With all due respect Sir, kindly fuck off, I’m busy.”

“Is that any way to talk to the man who changed your life?” His voice was a slight mocking sounding laugh.

Your blood was boiling. You could not stand this arrogant man! Screw what that evil little voice said. “Get off my line, Gunny.” You then promptly hung up in his face. Feeling quite satisfied with what you had done. You got back to work with filling out all the appropriate paperwork you would need for swearing in. You felt mentally prepared, now to work on your physical condition.

You considered yourself rather fit, as you did go to the gym about four times a week and go to a high intensity cardio class twice a week. But you knew that the training under the Drill Instructors was going to be brutal as they weed out the weaklings and only accept the mentally, emotionally, and physically strong.

You dug around your closet for your workout mat and quickly began doing multiple sets of push-ups, sit-ups, burpees, jumping jacks, up and down planks and other various workouts. Once you were done, you decided that you would go for a run knowing that running was going to be a huge part of everything especially during phases one through three. Grabbing your phone, headphones and fitbit, you left your apartment.

Running felt good. The air was cool with the approach of fall and although you dreaded doing all this training during the winter, you knew that it would only motivate you to work even harder. You knew that you would have to run both a 5k and 8K hike during week one so you pushed yourself to run at least a 10K, making sure that you stuck to more off road trails to simulate the uneven terrain that was going to be the beaten path.

Sweat ran down your body by the time you were finished and you were exhausted. But you felt amazing. You accomplished your goal of running a 10K hike. It only took the whole month! And just in time too. You swore in in three days. Meaning...You’d have to see Katsuki Bakugou again due to him being your recruiter. You were dreading that. You hoped he would behave himself in front of your family. Only the Gods knew with that man.

After reaching your apartment, you quickly hopped in the shower to wash the sweat and grime off of your body. You loved getting clean, but you knew after you swore in it would only be a matter of time until you would not be able to enjoy such long hot showers for about thirteen weeks. ‘Ugh, I’m so not looking forward to that part of boot camp.’ you reached for your favorite shampoo and washed your hair quickly before rinsing off and getting out. Wrapping a towel around yourself, you left the bathroom and laid out on your bed. “I am making the right choice, right, Dad?” Your eyes felt heavy as sleep overcame you.

-0-0-0

You drew in a calming breath as you tried to not fidget with the bottom of your skirt. Today was the day. Today was your swearing in and then you would get your departure date. You could only hope that they would wait a few months so you could spend more time with your family. Your dad’s health was not the best after years of working on the Navy Ship’s engines and you wanted to be close to him for a bit longer.

“You nervous, Squirt?” you heard your dad call out as his hand landed on yours to give it a comforting squeeze. “You can always back out and join the Navy like your old man?”

Laughing at your dad’s attempt to have you change branches like he’s been doing since you told him you were enlisting in the Marines. “No, Dad. For the last time, I’m not joining the Navy just so you can brag to your buddies that your little girl is following in your footsteps.” you flashed him a reassuring smile. “I really do want to join the Marines and serve this country beyond my own expectations. I won’t let the Drill Instructors intimidate me into quitting.”

“Is that right, little recruit?”

Your back crawled at the sound of that, now, very familiar gruff voice that could only belong to Katsuki Bakugou. “Gunnery Sergeant Bakugou,” you placed a fake smile on your face as you extended your hand out for him to take. “How are you today, sir?”

Bakugou stared at your extended hand for a few moments before arching a blonde brow. “That is not how you greet a commanding officer.” His lips curled up into a snarky smile when you blushed and quickly tried to change your greeting to a salute. “Calm down, recruit. You’re not at boot camp yet.” He glanced over at your family that had come to witness your swear in ceremony. “You must be the family she boasted so much about. I’m Gunnery Sergeant Katsuki Bakugou, the man who’s stealing your daughter away.”

You sucked your teeth at the way he said that last line. He was not stealing you away! Crossing your arms over your chest you rose to your feet and introduced your family. “Sir, This is my Dad, a retired Petty Officer 3rd Class. My mother, a retired Senior Airwoman.”

You smiled as you glanced down at your two brothers. They were the ones who were most excited for you to enlist in the Marines, although they hated the fact their little sister was stronger than them. “And these are my brothers, both Lieutenants in the Coast Guard.”

Dad rose to his feet and gripped Katsuki’s extended hand and clapped him on the back. “Nice to meet the recruiter that managed to convert my Squid raised daughter to enlist?”

Bakugou returned the gesture, clapping the older man’s back. “Likewise.” He cut his eyes over towards his little recruit and signaled with his head for them to follow after him. “If you’ll follow after me, I’ll take you to where the swearing in ceremony will be held after that she will learn her departure date.” He shot you a smirk that he thought only you could see, but your father’s watchful eyes caught it.

Your back stiffened when you saw the smile that was sent your way. Cocky asshole. You blinked when your dad grabbed your hand and squeezed it. Did he see the look Bakugou gave you?

No.

You shook your head. He could not have or he would have said something to your brothers. You followed the Gunnery Sergeant to the back room where there were three other people there waiting to be sworn in as well.

The ceremony lasted about thirty minutes and you were allowed to take pictures afterward. Mom cried when she heard you recite your oath, your brothers were grinning as they watched you salute the General, and Dad simply was watching Katsuki with a stern look on his face, but clapped when the ceremony ended.

After everything ended, you followed the General to sign your contract that would bind you to the Marines for a minimum of four years if you did not fail boot camp.

Katsuki leaned back against the wall, his eyes following after his little recruit as he watched you sign the papers that would allow him to do whatever he wanted for thirteen weeks. Sure, he’ll have to pull a few strings and get yelled at by his superiors, but he would make sure that you would be put into his platoon and that he would be your drill instructor.

He grunted when someone placed their hand on his shoulder and he noticed that it was the retired squid. “Can I help you, sir?”

“You’ve been staring intently at my daughter for a while now, Gunny.” Dad replied quietly, not to alert his sons of the situation. “What are you planning with her?”

“Heh, with all due respect, sir, what I have planned for my training of making your daughter into the perfect Marine soldier is private information.” He said with a slight smirk, his heavily tattooed arms crossed over his chest with a blonde brow raised. “But I promise you she’ll be in good hands, sir.” His smile widened just a bit at the double meaning to his words that seemed to calm your father.

If only he really knew of the plans he had for the little dumbass.

-0-0-0

A month. You were given only another month to spend with your family. You finished school and graduated top of your class. And now you are spending your last few days of civilian life in your apartment. You had already prepared myself for the nearly three months away from family and friends. You told your landlord that this would be your last week here and she was kind enough to let you stay rent free for this last month.

You packed your rucksack with only the necessary items i.e. travel sized things that will only get tossed after receiving week. You sighed as you remembered your Dad’s words. He told you to be careful around Gunny Bakugou and he really did not have to tell you that. You were already going to avoid him like the plague although that little voice in the back of your head told you that you liked this game of cat and mouse you were playing with Katsuki.

...And it was right. The more you tried to deny your attraction to the blonde, the stronger it got. But you would not let him distract you from your goal.

Deciding to go for one last run before you were shipped off to South Carolina, you grabbed your phone and headphones and took off.

-0-0-0

It was time. You were on the long white bus heading towards Parris Island. It was late at night and most of the other recruits were trying to get the last bit of sleep that they could, but you could not.Your nerves were too frayed. What if Katsuki was your Drill Instructor? But he’s also your recruiter? Is there not some military code that disallows that? You buried your hands into your hair and pulled. “Ugh! Stupid asshole!”

“Woah, Dollface, what’s got you so uptight?”

You turned at the sound of the voice and saw that it came from a young man with bright red hair and stunning turquoise eyes. You sighed and removed your hands from your head, before shaking it. “It’s nothing that concerns you.” You frowned when you realized that he had called you a doll. “And who are you calling a dollface, redhead?”

He chuckled as he lifted his hands in surrender. “Sorry, bad habit of mine to give cute girls nicknames. “I’m Touya Todoroki, but a girl like yourself gets to call me Dabi.” he sent you a flirty wink and smirk.

Rolling your eyes, you held out your hand for him to shake. “Nice to meet you, Dabi.” Your eyes widened slightly at the sight of the nasty burn scars that lined up his arms and you could not stop the gasp that left you. Realizing what you had done, you started apologizing immediately. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to stare.”

Dabi cracked a slow smile that pulled at the corners of his cheeks. “No worries, Baby girl. I’ve got more scars if you wanna oogle them too.” He laughed when you punched him on the arm. Grimacing playfully as he rubbed the sore spot your strike caused, Dabi was slightly surprised at your strength. “Damn, Dollface, you’re strong.”

You sent him a smile and started to reply when the bus came to a startling halt, nearly causing you to be ejected from your seat. Your heart began to beat a mile a minute when the first gruff voices of the Drill Instructors began barking out demands for you to get off the bus. You quickly made a beeline for the center aisle because rule number one of boot camp: Never be the last person off the bus. You will get slayed. You felt bad for leaving Touya behind but it was every person for themselves from now on. As you rushed to get into formation you ran into something solid.

“Watch where the fuck you’re going, Private!”

A chill went down your spine as you immediately recognized the voice. It belonged to the one man you both were dreading and elated to see. Gunnery Sergeant Katsuki Bakugou. Steeling your face into a neutral expression with a blank look in your eyes, you saluted, “Sir, I apologize, sir!” you withheld a gasp of surprise when his hands snaked out and grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer. Damn him! He was using the rush of chaos that was receiving week to camouflage what he was planning.

Bakugou pulled his prey closer to him, slightly thankful that Kaminari, Kirishima, and Sero were his fellow underlings and would turn a blind eye to what he was doing to his new little private. “I told you, dumbass. Your ass is mine now.” His hands tightened around your waist when you tried to pull away. “Oh no, princess. You’re not getting away that easily.”

You kept a blank face as you tried to pull away from his strong grip. “Sir, I’d like to get to in-processing now.” A blush warmed your face when his fingers dug into your flesh and yanked you even closer to his chest. You placed your hands against him to prevent your face from colliding with his.

Big mistake on your part.

You nearly melted from the feeling of those strong muscles of his under your fingertips. ‘Fucking hell...Muscles are my weakness...’ You shook your head when you felt your expression trying to change. “Sir, I am asking you to let me go through in-processing. It is very late and will take a very long time with how many of us there were on the bus.”

“Tch...” Katsuki scoffed as he knew his time was running out. Kirishima and the others would not be able to buy him much more time. “Okay, Dumbass. You go do your in-processing, but remember for the next thirteen weeks, heh, I’ve got plans for you, Princess. Got it, Private?” He said in a commanding voice, smirking as he knew that you would have to do everything he said. When you replied with a dry “Aye, sir.” Bakugou grabbed your wrist. “One more thing, Private.” Twirling you around, he pressed his lips against yours in an intense, passionate kiss.

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

That was all that was going through your mind as you felt the Gunny’s lips on yours. Your heart was racing a mile a minute as you debated whether you wanted to grab that blonde head of hair and pull him closer or to bite his lip to get him the fuck off of you. His tongue took advantage of your open mouth and snuck inside to wrap around your own. A low soft moan rumbled in the back of your throat at his flavor. Bakugou tasted surprisingly sweet like he had eaten some kind of caramel candy. But before you could respond, he pulled away with a smirk on his face.

Bakugou released you, stunned, with a sly look on his face. He ran his tongue over his lips slowly. “I’ll be taking a lot more than a kiss next time, little Dumbass.”

-0-0-0

For the next few weeks, you’ve been on your toes whenever Bakugou was around. There were a few times where he’d managed to trap you. Each time kissing you and his hands wandering a bit further each time. You could feel yourself anticipating his next attempt and was starting to lose focus on your training. I’ve gotten slain so many times by other Drill Instructors that my muscles were beyond exhausted. You even got your whole platoon slain due to you laughing at something Dabi had said. And it was by Bakugou no less.

You had let out a very short, barely there laugh when Dabi commented on how Kaminari seemed to always go into a stupid daze when Jirou was around. Your back immediately stiffened when you heard Katsuki call out your last name with a certain sternness to his voice. You’ve learned to differentiate the tones to his voice. That level of sterness was meant as a warning for you. As those vermillion colored eyes landed on you, you knew what was about to happen and sent Dabi a mental apology.

“Private Todoroki, want to tell me what was so goddamn funny that this little dumbass had to laugh?” Bakugou stepped up to the redhead’s face, their noses nearly touching as he glared into the man’s blue eyes.

Dabi said nothing as he rolled his eyes. “It was nothing, Sir. Just said an observation, Sir.” He scooted back discreetly and moved just a bit closer to the woman he’s set his sights on.

Bakugou eyed the new recruit standing way too close to his prey. The smug looking bastard had the audacity to question him! "Oi, Burnt looking bitch, you will respect my authority! And I'm giving you orders to shut the hell up!" An evil smile crossed his lips and a vile thought entered his mind.

Time to slay them.

“Better yet!!” He yelled, his eyes gleaming as he witnessed the slight shoulder drop of the whole platoon. "Too easy. Half right face! Front leaning rest position! In cadence! Move!" Bakugou watched with mild glee as he watched the frustrated look on his Princess's face as he slowly counted out each up and down movement, making sure to make them wait for thirty seconds on the up. 'Maybe that will teach her to be so close to that burnt asshole.'

You groaned as you did the push ups as the Gunny crossed his arms, staring down at you. He was purposely slowing down the count and was also not counting certain ones. He then made you all do Iron walks all the way back to the barracks. Your legs and thighs were screaming at this point and all you wanted to do was shower and lay down to prepare for the next day. Because tomorrow was the start of swim week. You’ve up put with Katsuki’s slow burn torture for over a month now. And you've caught yourself thinking about him way too often.

Sure, he was an insufferable asshole, but he was an asshole with the softest pair of lips and the most sinful of touches. You knew the next time he’d caught you in a trap, you may just break and give into his seduction. You were starting to like the Gunnery Sergeant and you knew you were tempting fate because he would soon be your superior (which you think he’d like due to his superiority complex), but you did not care. That little voice in the back of your head was right. You did want him.

You waited until you were able to be the last person to take a shower and let the lukewarm water soothe your aching body. It did not help that all those teasing touches Bakugou does is leaving you with pent up desires. That was the main downside of being a woman in boot camp, there was no way to relieve any type of tension. The guys could make jack off socks, but you women were out of luck. ...But you had to try. You needed to release some of this pressure that the Gunny had built up in you or else you’d go insane.

Peaking your head out of the shower, you scanned the area and saw that there were only a few loose stragglers. You had a few minutes before Jirou came in to make sure the entire bay was in bed. So, you need to be quick. Softly, you trailed my fingers along the front of my body, skimming over my nipples and tugging at them briefly. You tried to mimic the way Katsuki’s rough fingers would touch you. You twisted a bit more roughly than you would usually and had to bite back the loud moan that escaped. “Yes...” you hissed. “Katsuki...”

Knowing that my time was coming to an end, you quickly touched my slickened slit and rubbed at the hard bundle of nerves. You were grateful for the water as it made it easier for you to quickly glide your fingers into your quivering hole. You rode your fingers hard as you tried to bring myself to completion before Drill Instructor Jirou caught you still in the shower with your fingers up your cunt. Within minutes you came, your legs shaking as you let out a broken sounding moan of Bakugou’s name.

Your embarrassment was instant. You quickly cleaned up and washed everything within seconds. You could not believe you just did that while thinking about Katsuki Bakugou no less! But...you could feel the heat swimming in my cheeks, you could not deny it anymore.

You wanted him.

“Fuck...” you whispered as you got out of the shower and dried off. You changed into your PTs for bed and hurried out. You just barely made it to your bunk when the Drill Instructor came in. Your eyes widened when you realized that it was not Jirou as usual but Katsuki.

Bakugou walked into the barracks, his hands behind his back as he scanned over the beds. His slow methodical footsteps echoed through the bay area. He was on a prowl, looking for anyone who dared to have anything out of place, but he was also seeking out a certain little Princess who got a bit naughty. He’d overheard yourr little escapade while you were in the shower. Hearing his little recruit moan out his name in that sweet voice of yours was such a goddamn turn on. He stopped when he reached the foot of your bunk.

You quickly close your eyes and tried to feint sleep when you heard Bakugou’s boots stop at yor bed. Sweet mercy, you prayed that he did not by chance hear you outside the barracks. Even if the water was loud enough to muffle your cry from the inside, you knew that you were in the shower closest to the window. Your face grew even hotter when you felt the tips of his fingers graze the top of your feet before slowly moving upward. You struggled to remain still even as those firm caresses reached my upper thighs. By the time you felt them ghosting over your sex, you were already wet again.

The Gunney smirked down at his captive, happy for the darkness of the barracks to conceal him and that you had chosen the last bunk. “You naughty little private.” His voice rumbled from his chest as he leaned down to growl in your ear. “Were you fucking touching yourself while thinking about me?”

Bakugou chuckled as he watched your face scrunch up in embarrassment. He moved his fingers to cup your sex through the blanket, grinding his palm against your clit and causing you to gasp out. “Quiet, Dumbass. Don’t want the others to hear you.” His lips curled into an evil little smirk. “Not quite how I’d imagine hearing you moan my name for the first time but, heh, it was fucking hot, Princess.”

You let out a quiet whimper when he pressed his hand down harder against your dripping sex. Fuck, you wanted him to touch you directly and not over these blankets. You wanted him to kiss you so you could taste more of that sweet caramel flavor of his favorite candy on his tongue. You wanted to run your fingers through those soft looking blonde spikes as he took advantage of you. “Sir...” you let out a soft whisper before he placed a finger against your lips.

“Soon, Private, very soon.” The look on his face held the promise as his crimson eyes bore down into yours. “You will be mine. Until then how about I give you a little sample of what’s to come?” He arched a blonde brow as his lips curled up into a feral smirk at your confused look on your face. Bakugou curled his fingers inward, digging them into your center. “Do you want it, Princess?”

Your body was visibly shaking with anticipation. You wanted to touch him so badly, but my hands were spasming under the sheets from his hot touch. “Yes, sir, I want it, please.” Your voice came out in a breathy plea. You wanted, no you needed more. To feel him, to touch him, to become one with him. Although you knew that Katsuki would not be a gentle lover. You’ve experienced his hard touches so much that your body was used to them. You saw the slow smirk that spread over his lips at your nod. And then the sound of a zipper echoed in your ears. ‘He wouldn’t?!’

Katsuki watched the surprised look on your face as he tugged down his zipper. He leaned over and pressed his lips against hers as he pulled out his semi-hard cock. His hand stroked down the length, his mind replaying the sound of your sweet voice calling out his name. He felt himself harden fully as his eyes slid closed and swept his tongue between your parted lips. His fingers grinded harder over your clothed crotch as he stroked himself faster, smearing his pre-cum around the thick, swollen head. “Fuck, you’re such a naughty little Princess.”

You wanted to touch him. You wanted to touch him so badly. Even in the darkness of the barracks you could tell that Katsuki was long and thick. Fuck. You let out another moan muffled by his kiss. Slowly to not draw attention to yourself, you reached out for him. You felt his jump in surprise when your nail grazed the tip of his cock before your hand wrapped around the thick shaft.You was right. The Gunny was thick, so thick that your hand could barely wrap around it fully. You stroked him firmly as his tongue invaded your mouth, claiming you as his. You could feel his pre-cum smearing over your hand with each upward pull.

To say he was surprised that his little private touched him was not the furthest from the truth. He had slowly been training you to respond to his touches. But damn did it feel great to have your small, yet rough hand on his cock stroking him so earnestly. He pulled away from your sweet lips to let out a grunt as he felt his release coming. “Damn it, Private. You’re trying to milk me for all I’ve got?”

Katsuki wanted to rip that thin blanket off of you and shove his hand down your shorts to touch you directly, but he knew that you would scream out if he did that. And he did not want Jirou to catch him inside the women’s barracks this late when all he was supposed to do was a bed check. He curled his fingers in deeper, pressing them tightly against your throbbing clit while he cut off your gasp with his mouth pressing against yours.

The rush of liquid that left you when his strong fingers ran over your sensitive nerves made you dizzy and you could barely register the wet feeling of his cum against the top of your fist. As you were reveling in your high, you came to a realization. He’d made you cum without touching you directly.

This man was the devil.

You pulled your hand away when he moved away from your mouth. If he wants to be a devil, then you can show him a demoness. “Bet you’re tasty.” While looking him directly in the eyes, you stuck out your tongue and licked your hand clean.You were surprised at how sweet it tasted. He must eat plenty of fruits as well as that sweet caramel candy he loved.

Bakugou’s eyes widened briefly before a feral grin overtook his features. “Not bad at all, Princess.”

-0-0-0

It was finally swim week. You’ve actually been dreading this week. You may be a Navy brat with Coast Guard brothers, but you can barely swim to save your own life. No matter how hard my dad and brother tried to teach me, you just could not get swimming down.

Your mom often joked it was because you belonged in the sky like her. But you just think it was that you were just not a swimmer. You looked down at the large pool with slight fear in your eyes as you could feel every pound of the heavy gear we had to wear.

“Alright, you unmanly weaklings!” Kirishima barked out. “Today you will learn how to survive in the water!” He smiled, teeth gleaming sharply in the dimmed lighting of the pool house. This was his favorite week to train. Kiri loved being in the water more than anything. “You will learn to tread water while in full combat gear! You will also use issued epiquitment to stay afloat and shed your equipment while still in the water.” He held up a stopwatch, his smile still in place even as his red eyes shined with an evil glare. “Oh and you will only have fifteen minutes to do it all. If you cannot do it you will be dismissed from boot camp!”

Shock ran down your spine. Dismissed? Fuck. Your. Life. You adjusted the heavy pack on your shoulders and repositioned your helmet. Fifteen minutes. You can stay afloat about twenty on your own. So you quickly calculated the extra weight and it came to about fifty extra pounds on you. ‘I can do this.’ you patiently waited in line, your eye catching a flash of blonde hair and your body instantly warmed. He was watching you. That gave you a slight confidence boost knowing that he was there.

You could not explain why you felt better with the thought that Bakugou was watching me. How did you go from not standing that man to wanting him to ravage you so badly it hurt? You drew in a calming breath when you locked eyes with him and he gave you that little smirk that has begun to grow on me. When they called your name, you took another deep breath and jumped. The water was cold and instantly began trying to drag me to the bottom. You had to claw your way up to the surface and slowly began to kick your feet and wave your arms to tread the water.

“Oi, Dumbass. Catch!”

A long floatation device smacked you in the head as you were treading causing you to lose focus and you began to sink. Desperate to remain here in boot camp, you struggled back to the surface launching towards the floatation device. Once you had it secured under one of your arms, you began shedding the heavy equipment down to just your military green t-shirt, camos, and boots. Quickly you swam over to the other edge of the large pool and pulled yourself up out of the water.

“Time!” You heard Kirishima call out. “13:45!”

You beamed brightly. You did it. Youfucking did it! You glanced over at Katsuki to see the tiniest of smirks on his face as his eyes gleamed. He was proud that you would be able to continue boot camp. You felt my racing heart finally ease into a normal pace as you grabbed the towel that Jirou had set out for you. As you walked back to the door, you could hear the Drill Instructors yelling at a few other recruits who were taking up a lot of time just trying to tread water. You could only hope they weren’t part of your platoon. You did not feel like getting slayed today. You were exhausted.

But it was no such luck. Dabi was one of the recruits that was getting yelled at by the Drill Instructors so of course, our entire squad got slayed...in the fucking sand pit while we were still wet from the pool. Jirou and Kaminari kept us out in the sand pit for hours, calling out push ups, sit ups, burpees, high knees, every single type of plank and squats.

You were caked in dirt and grime by the time of it all it was over. You had sand in places you did not even want to describe. The sun had already set by the time Jirou and Kaminari let you all go, so it was also freezing. Wrapping your arms around your wet body, you hurried to your barracks.

You let out a surprised yelp when someone caught you by the waist and quickly covered your mouth with their hand. While you wanted to flip the person over your shoulder, your body seemingly melted into their touch. It was not until that familiar gruff voice rumbled in your ears, did you realize who had captured you. “Drill Instructor, sir, what are you doing?” you questioned, trying to pull away so that you would not dirty his pristine camo uniform.

Bakugou leaned over you, his hair tickling your forehead. “There will be a line for the showers at your barracks. Come on, Private.” He wrapped his large hand around your wrist and pulled you alongside him. You moved in the opposite direction of yourplatoon’s barracks and closer to the Drill Instructors' personal barracks. An area where you, privates, are not allowed to go. “What are you waiting for, Dumbass? Get inside before someone sees you!”

You swallowed dryly as you stepped into Katsuki’s private quarters. Why were you here? You could have waited to shower or atleast scrubbed off some of the sand and grime off your body in the sink. “Sir,” you said in a quiet, nervous voice, “Why am I here? I need to get back to my barracks before Drill Instructor Jirou notices.”

A feral smile spread over his lips as he stalked towards his prey. His eyes gleamed as he watched you take a step back every time he moved closer until you were pressed against the wall. “Private...” Katsuki growled out. “You know why you’re here. Don’t act like a dumbass.” He slammed his hands on either side of your head when he saw that you were contemplating your escape. Leaning in, he pressed his lips to your dusty ones, not caring that he would taste the sand covering them. “You think you're dirty now, recruit? Get in that shower and I'll show you just how dirty I can make you.”

Your eyes widened as you nodded your head, a sudden wave of nervousness washing over you. Were you really about to do this? Were you really prepared for this? That evil little voice in the back of your head was rejoicing and telling you to just indulge in your desires. Desires that only Katsuki Bakugou would quench. With that confidence boost, you slowly began to peel off your wet, sand covered clothing as he watched with eager eyes.

“Do you like what you see, Sir?” you taunted as you walked into the bathroom. “If you want it, just try and come and take it.” With those words floating through the air, you started up the shower and began rinsing away the sand and grime that coated your body.

Bakugou felt his lips spread even further at your taunting. Oh, he would enjoy breaking you and making you into a Princess meant just for him. He would fuck the attitude right out of that little recruit. But he will make you wait and anticipate him for a while. Then he would pounce. Walking over to his bed, he opened the top draw of the bedside table and pulled something out. Another wicked smile curled at his lips as he set the items down on the bed. Oh, it was going to be a very long night for his little naughty Princess.

You were nearly finished with your shower and were just enjoying the warm water like you did when you were back at home. ‘Guess he was all talk, no bite.’ you laughed to yourself as you allowed the water to run down your face as you scrubbed it with a towel. You let out a small yelp when rough hands grabbed your waist and pushed you against the wall of the shower. Firm lips caught yours and a slick tongue found its way inside and wrapped around yours. That sweet hint of caramel flooded your taste buds and you moaned softly. “Gunnery Sergeant...” you let out a whimper when those firm fingers of his twisted at one of your niples while the other pinched your clit.

“Oh, no little dumbass, tonight I’m either just Sir or Daddy.” Bakugou slid his fingers hard against your already slick nerve. “Got it?” He smirked at your consenting nod. “That’s an obedient Dumbass.” Katsuki pressed his lips back against yours, trying to mark you as his.

His fingers found their way inside of you, the water from the shower making it easier. As he pumped two fingers in and out at a slow, almost maddening speed, he watched your face contort with pleasure. “You know what, I take that back. Cry out my name, baby. Moan it nice and loud for me.”

You shook your head, not giving him the satisfaction of hearing you turn into putty in his hands. you bit your lip hard to hold in your whimpers when he picked up the pace of his thick digits, sliding along your slick folds.

He was going to break you.

You could feel it. But you were not going to go down without a fight. No, he wanted to hear you cry out his name, then he will have to work for it. You gasped when you felt his teeth and tongue on your neck, nibbling down to your pulse point. Fuck... He found a weak spot. Your legs began to quiver and threatened to give out.

Katsuki smirked against your flesh. “What’s the matter Dumbass? Stand straight or can’t you handle a little teasing? Or maybe you want to be impaled on my fingers?” His teeth grazed over the junction where her neck and shoulder met and gained the same reaction from her again. “Oh? Sensitive here, I see.”

He trailed the hand that was not currently inside you to trace random patterns on your back. His nails scratched a line down to your lower back and you opened your mouth in a loud wailing moan. “Heh, looks like I found the ultimate spot here, Private.”

‘Fuck...’ The things he was doing to you should be illegal. The things he was making your body feel should not be right! You bit your lip again to stifle your cries when he inserted a third finger, stretching you out. You could feel his hard cock against your stomach but the maddening pleasure he was giving you had one of your hands clenched tightly at your side as you drew the other to your lips to bite down on your knuckle after your lips were bruised from your abuse of them. It did not help that everytime you could feel yourself nearing completion, the cocky asshole would slow back down and start the build up again. “Sir, please...”

“Please what, Princess?” He lifted his head to look into her eyes. A smirk titled at his lips as he saw the lewd expression on her face. Eyes glazed over with lust, mouth open as she panted around her knuckle, face flushed with an adorable blush. “Give me what I want to hear and I may be merciful and let you cum, little dumbass.” He shoved his fingers inside your dripping hole roughly, nearly picking you up off of your feet as you were forced to grab onto his forearms to keep from falling over. “Stand up straight, Private. That’s an order.”

“Fuck! Katsuki!” you screamed out. The response was immediate. His fingers drilled in and out of you at an almost inhumane speed, hitting depths that your own could never reach. You were a sobbing mess as you pleaded for your release. “Katsuki, please. Let me cum!” you begged him as you held onto his forearms, the feeling in your legs finally giving out.

He pushed you against the wall and lifted one of your legs to wrap around his waist. You were so close you could taste it. “Shit, shit, shit...please?” you tilted your head back against the wall of the shower and let out a lustful mewl of Bakugou’s name as you came hard on his fingers.

You felt dizzy as you leaned your head against his chest to try and catch my breath. you saw that the sleeve of tattoos that went up his arms, also covered his chest and down his abdomen. you blinked when his fingers were suddenly pressed against your lips. ‘Did he want me to...?’ Seeing the stern look in those carmine eyes of his, you knew he was serious. Parting your lips, your tongue slipped out and curled around his thick digits and licked your juices off them.

“Good girl.” Katsuki murmured as he picked up your other leg, “I’d rather taste you directly.” With just his arms, he lifted his little recruit up on his shoulders and buried his nose into your crotch. “You smell fucking delicious, Princess.” He wrapped your legs around his neck and held your hips down with his hands. “Let’s see if you taste as good as you smell. What did you say to me before? Oh, right. Bet you’re tasty.” Bakugou slid his tongue along your wet slit, grunting at the flavor of you.

A rush of liquid flooded my center as you tried to thrash around when you felt his tongue on me. It was too much too soon. you had just come and he was already doing more torturous pleasure to your body. You were still sensitive. He curled his wet muscle around your clit while his lips sucked at your labia. “Oh god...” you cried out when he moved one of his hands off of your hips to spread your lower nethers further for his assault. You bit at your knuckles when his chuckles sent vibrations all through your body.

“God? Thanks for the compliment, Dumbass. But the name is Katsuki. That’s the one you should be screaming.” He glided his finger over the swollen nub and gave it a pinch as he stuck his tongue inside your quivering hole. He was not going to stop until you were a sobbing mess underneath him. Right where you belonged. “Maybe I should spell my name down here? The only name you’ll ever cry out.” Katsuku growled against your sex.

Your voice was starting to go hoarse from the overuse of it, but that did not stop him. You were starting to really believe that Bakugou was a sex demon sent from hell to tempt you. And it was working, you curled your fingers into his thick, wet blonde hair, pushing him closer to your core as his tongue worked wonders over you.

You could feel him spelling things out on your clit, but you were too dazed to figure them out. The pleasure was almost painful, so you did not know if you wanted to pull him even closer or try to shove his head away so you could breathe. That warmth in your lower belly grew hotter with each stroke. “F-fuck...Katsuki...please?”

Bakugou chuckled once more as he sucked on your clit. “Begging again, Private? I can't understand you with the water running.”

You bit your lip. You did not want to give him the satisfaction of hearing you beg him to let me cum. But damn it, if he did not give you a release soon, you were going to go insane. But your pride? When his teeth grazed over that sensitive little bundle of nerves, you broke. “Please, sir, let me cum!” you screamed when Katsuki bit down on your clit again and shoved two fingers inside your slick, quivering hole at the same time. You felt drunk as you came hard, a flood of your juices coating his face. Your breath came out in pants and your body was still twitching as he gave you little licks and nips, easing you down from your high.

He grinned as he lowered you back down onto your weak legs. He licked his lips, still tasting you before grabbing your chin and pulling you in for another wild kiss. “That was how I imagined hearing you saying my name, Dumbass.” He watched your face go through a myriad of emotions before settling on bashful. “Now,” Katsuki said, his voice stern. “Turn around, Private. Right fucking now. That’s a direct order.”

Your eyes widened as you stared up at him. you had just come again. Could you not get a chance to rest? Plus the water was starting to get cold. But the look in his eyes said that he was not going to wait. If you did not turn around, he would make you. “Aye, sir.” You said as you showed him your ass, pressing your hands against the shower wall. You flinched when his hands slammed against the wall next to your head. “Sir?” you said shly.

Katsuki leaned his head down on your shoulder, his hand stroking over his cock. “Listen Dumbass, count the inches and you better not fuck up.” He smirked as he rubbed the tip against you, circling around yourr tight little hole. “Or there will be hell to pay.” Slowly he pushed inside, a groan caught up in his throat.

“Fuck...” you cried out, Just as you imagined. The Gunny was large. Very large and thick. This felt very different than having him in your hand. The feeling was not the same. In your hand, it felt like steel wrapped in velvety skin, but inside you? You could not describe the feeling. “1..sir...” You began to count as he slid deeper within you, inch by painstaking inch. “2..sir...3...sir..” you let out a loud gasp when he purposely shoved it in deeper and pulled out. “Katsuki!”

“What was that, Dumbass? You messed up the count.” He pulled out completely and slapped the head of his cock against your ass cheeks. “Do it again. Right now, Private.” Bakugou growled against your neck, hands pulling at your waist as he sank back within the warm depths of your clenching insides.

You could not think. Your mind had gone blank at this point. The pleasure was driving you insane. And he wanted you to count?! You could not do that with how he keeps going in and out at such a pace you could not keep up. Was it eight inches or ten? You could not remember. All you know is that he was long and thick to the point it nearly hurt to take all of him inside. The tip of his cock was pressed so tightly against your cervix that your legs were shaking.

You could not keep yourself standing for long. You needed a break. The back to back orgasms. The over stimulation of your senses. It was all too much. And with the water turning cold against your heated flesh, striking against your back was also doing things to you. “Ah, Katsuki, please. I can't take it anymore.”

Katsuki, the sadistic asshole he was, wrapped his hands tighter around your waist and pulled you down more. “Yes, you can Princess. Or are you really Marine material?” He knew that would awaken your competitive, strong-willed side that attracted him to you. And it did. He felt you start to push back against his thrusts, your inner muscles clenching down on him. “F-fuck...heh...maybe you are Marine material.” He sped up his thrusting.

Your legs were about to give out at this point but you were not going to let him win. You were going to make him go mad for you. Using your hands as leverage, you pushed back against him and squeezed down, trying to milk him of everything he had to offer. You enjoyed the feeling of him sliding in and out, rubbing against your walls, but this was a competition now. He was going to cum for you first. You were not going to cum anymore for him. “Oh shit...” you moaned when his fingers began sliding over your clit. ‘Fucking cheat...’

“Did you think you could beat me, Princess?” Bakugou licked the shell of your ear before nibbling on the lobe, working his digits over that cute little sensitive spot of yours. “I know all your weaknesses.” He trailed his teeth down to your neck, grazing the flesh roughly before biting down on your pulse point.

He could feel your legs trembling as you tried your best to keep up with his pace. He decided that maybe he should end her suffering. Dragging his nails down the small of your back and sucking at the bite mark he had created, Katsuki started thrusting even harder.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck...” the curse left you as a mantra. Damn it. You were not going to last much longer. You could feel your walls fluttering around him as that itch for release burned in your belly. When he gave another sharp, hard thrust, you felt yourself come undone. Your mouth hung open as your tongue fell out as you came.

Your chest was heaving heavily as you tried to catch your breath. That was such an intense orgasm that your arms and legs finally gave out and Katsuki had to wrap his arms around you to keep you from falling. “Oh hell...”you drew in several deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart.

Katsuki waited for you to catch your breath before he slowly slid in and drew a surprised gasp from you. He smirked down at you. “You really thought I was done with you? Oh no, Dumbass. I’ve only just begun.” He pulled out completely and picked you up in his arms, ignoring your protests and demands for a rest. “You’re mine now, Private.” He walked out of the bathroom and tossed you on the bed.

You wanted to protest but you had no strength left in your arms and legs. Your eyes widened when you saw Bakugou reach for something that was sitting next to you. “W-why do you have those?” He smiled that feral smile I’ve grown used to seeing when you were alone and your heart began to beat even faster in your chest. Why did he have a blindfold? Not to mention a fucking vibrator! What did he plan on doing with that! “Bakugou, sir?”

He silenced you with another deep kiss, his tongue wrapping around yours. “Listen, Dumbass. You trust me?”

Did you? You did just let him have his complete and utter way with you in the shower?

Slowly, you nodded my head, “Aye sir.” As soon as you said that my vision was stolen as Katsuki placed the blindfold over your eyes. A sense of panic washed over you briefly until you felt soft touches running along your body and your skin felt alive. “Oh?”youI cried out, unprepared for the rush of sensitivity that spread over you.

Katsuki trailed his fingers along his recruit’s body slowly, stirring you back up in a state of arousal. He brought his hand up to your face, caressing your cheek before moving to your lips. His cock twitched at the thought of having those pretty little lips wrapped around him, to feel your warm, wet mouth sucking him dry. “Fuck...” He cursed as he grabbed the back of your head and guided you down. “Open your mouth, Princess.”

You flared your nostrils, taking in his manly scent as you did as you were told. You opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue. He filled your mouth and stretched your lips to the fullest extent. You took in as much as you could without choking, but he touched the back of your throat.

So you wrapped your hands around whatever was left out. You bobbed your head up and down on his lap, working your tongue over him. The sweet taste of his precum flooded your senses and you couldn't help but moan at the flavor. You heard him groan in pleasure and you so desperately wanted to see his face contorted in ecstasy, so you silently cursed the blindfold around your eyes.

Your tongue felt so amazing on him. His head fell back and his hands came up to run fingers over your hair, wrapping it around. Bakugou guided you down further on his cock, wanting more of your lips around him. While he was careful to not choke you ‘Too much.’ He needed more. “Use your tongue more, Dumbass.” He grunted out when you took his command and ran your tongue over the underside of his cock.

With each drag down your throat, you worked your tongue over the sensitive head, licking up any liquid that may have collected at the slit. Fuck, he tasted so good. Shaking his hands off of your head, you said, “You’re holding me back, sir.”

With renewed freedom, you placed your hands around the base of his dick and licked at the tip with the tip of your tongue, drawing small circles around him. You could hear him moan out and that only spurred you on as a rush of liquid dripped down your thighs. Gods, he sounded so sexy. “Keep your hands off of my head.”

Katsuki curled his fingers into the sheets of the bed, letting you take control. Watching your head go up and down on his cock, seeing it slip in and out of that pretty little mouth of yours was mesmerizing. He would let you have control for now, but... Bakugou reached for the hitachi wand and turned it on. If you noticed the buzzing, you paid it no mind. He bit back a smug laugh when you jumped as the wand glided over your back, sending tingles down your spine.

He moved the vibrating wand over the curve of your ass until he reached that dripping hole of yours. He pressed it against you and felt you moan deeply against his cock, the vibrations of it causing him to tremble and let out a groan. His hips began to move as he slid more of him down that pretty throat of yours as he kept the vibe in place on your sex.

You moaned again, your body beginning to spam when he placed the device on your throbbing clit.

“That’s it, Princess. Let’s cum together.” He commanded as he felt his balls tighten in preparation for his release.

You swallowed him down your throat, working your hands over the parts you could not fit. Drool was leaking out of your mouth and your jaw was starting to ache, but you were not going to stop. You wanted to taste more of his seed, fresh from the source this time. You sped up your sucking, hollowing out your cheeks and working your tongue over him.

Slowly, to not scare him, you brought your hand up and cupped his balls, rolling them around between your fingers. That seemed to be his undoing asyouI felt him swell in your mouth before a rush of hot liquid struck your tongue. That same sweet, yet slightly salty taste filled your mouth and you moaned at the feeling.

Bakugou’s hips gave soft little jerks as he felt his release come to stop. His lips curled into that trademark feral grin as he turned the wand up to the maximum settings. He watched as your body twitched beautifully as your head swung backward with your mouth still full of his cum.

“Don’t swallow yet, little recruit.” He grabbed you and pulled you back against his chest, the toy pressed so tightly against her clit. “I want you to come undone first.” Katsuki bent his head and bit down on your neck, soothing it with his tongue right after. Your moans were like music to his ears and he wanted to hear more. Using his free hand, he scratched a long line down your back.

You let out a muffled moan as you started to cum against the intensity of the vibrator and from Katsuki running his nails down the length of my spine to your lower back. Hot liquid ran down your thighs as you tried to cry out the Gunny’s name. You swallowed when he gave you the order before he pressed his lips against yours in a sweet, gentle kiss.

You crawled into his lap when he pulled the wand away and pulled at your arms, cuddling against his chest as he pressed soft kisses to your forehead. “Katsuki...” you said his name in the softest of whispers. “C-can I take the blindfold off now?”

His eyes widened for a second before his lips spread into a grin. “Not yet, Private.” Even as he was just holding you against him, he could feel his cock twitch back to life. Bakugou took your hand and placed it on him. He laughed at the confused expression on your face as you bit your bottom lip. “You ready for round three?” Katsuki took hold of your leg, placing one over his shoulder and giving it a long, wet lick.

You bit your lip in anticipation for the first thrust of his hard cock sliding inside your weeping sex. I still let out a surprised gasp when Bakugou probed at your entrance with his fingers, spreading you with his thumbs. “Katsuki...I...I need it.” you could sense the smile that was more than likely spreading over his lips.

He had won.

You were a pleading mess under him. You wanted him so badly that it hurt. You did not care if your body was still tingling from the multiple orgasms. You wanted more from Katsuki. To feel his long, thick cock filling you. “Please, Daddy.”

Katsuki licked his lips. He’d finally gotten you right where he wanted you. His Princess was where you belonged. A dripping wet, begging little dumbass that was only his. “That’s a good little naughty Princess.” He leaned down and gave your ear a nibble as he aligned his cock with your honeyed entrance.”You’re mine now, Dumbass.”

With those words, he sheathed himself inside in one smooth glide. His hands tightened on your thighs, feeling them tremble. Bakugou knew that you would not last long but he couldn't help but to torment you a little. He gave slow, shallow thrusts meant to drive you up the wall with desire as he kissed all over your body.

You could feel your legs shaking as Katsuki moved slowly within you. You could feel each and every inch as he took his time. The pace he was going was damn near maddening. While you liked that he was taking his time and tending to your sore and tender body with wet kisses and slow thrusts, you wanted him to take you fast and hard like in the shower.

Your body was thriving with pleasure, but your clit was throbbing, aching because your body wanted release. You were damn near in tears behind the blindfold. “Daddy...I need to cum. Make me cum!”

“Hmm?” He hummed in between kisses. “What did you say, little recruit?” He slid his tongue over your collarbone down to your chest and closed his lips over a taut nipple. You mewled so beautifully for him when he did that, your back arching off of the bed. Katsuki decided that he wanted to see your eyes as you came for the final time due to his cock.

Reaching for the blindfold, he ripped it off of your eyes and at the same moment, sped up his thrust. He heard your strangled cry and saw the way your eyes crossed and your tongue hang out as the pleasure drove you mad.”Look at me, Princess. Fucking look at me. That’s an order.”

You tried to focus your eyes on Katsuki as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You pulled him in closer and he met your seeking lips in a wild, sloppy kiss, wrapping his tongue with yours. Your breasts jiggled from his deep, powerful strokes and you broke away to gasp out.

The tip of him was pressed so tightly against your cervix, striking the sensitive spots deep within you repeatedly. You felt that telltale itching warmth in your lower belly. You lifted your head to gaze into his bright vermillion colored eyes like he had ordered you to.

Katsuki grunted as he stared down into your eyes. Fuck, you were so beautiful with sweat glistening on your body, tears in your eyes from the intense pleasure. “Fuck, Private...” He could feel your inner muscles fluttering around him, trying to milk him of all that he had.

Bakugou cursed as he took hold of your legs and pushed them towards yourr chest, ankles by your head. He began thrusting in and out, satisfied with the new position that allowed him a deeper penetration. Leaning over you, he moved his hips, drilling into you at a fast, hard pace as he felt his balls tighten up with the pending threat of release. “Princess...” he growled.

“Fuck, Daddy, Oh, shit Katsuki...” You screamed out as he held down your legs by your ankles. The new position let him reach even deeper parts of you and you could feel your walls spasm around his cock. You opened your mouth and let out a soul shattering mewl as a rush of honeyed liquid left you and dripped down the sides of your legs to pool underneath you. You placed your hands against his tattooed chest, your whole body trembling. “K-Katsuki...”

“Keep moaning my name, baby.” He kept thrusting for a few more strokes until he locked his hips in place. His warm seed flooded your tight cunt as he left out a deep groan. He fell against you, his forehead touching yours.

Katsuki pressed gentle kisses to your lips as he slowly eased out. He then wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you against his chest. “Sleep, Dumbass. I’ll wake you at 0200 so you can leave in time for formation.” He knew that he had to have you back before 0400 or Jirou would have his head for having someone from her platoon late.

Yiou looked up at him, cuddling against him for warmth as he pulled the blankets over the two of you. You smiled when he stroked his fingers along the side of your cheek and down your neck. He was being unusually tender and you enjoyed it. This was a side of Katsuki that only you would get to see and you felt a sense of happiness fill your heart. “And to retaliate, you’re mine too, Katsu.”

-0-0-0

Over the course of the next month, Katsuki had pulled you into his barracks atleast twice a week to fuck you senseless. Not that you were complaining but it was a bit of a distraction. Your grades in the classroom were slacking and your endurance was going down. So for the past week, you’ve been denying him anything more than a kiss.

While it was hard resisting him because he was being so very tempting, rubbing his hands along your body and trying to pull you towards his barracks. But you put your foot down. Last week was Basic Warrior Training. You were taught basic skills of survival in combat, such as combat marksmanship skills, land navigation, proper gas mask use, and how to maneuver under enemy fire.

The gas chamber was the first thing that you did and the tear gas burned at your eyes, nose and mouth when they made you take off your gas masks. You could barely breathe without it feeling like fire was spread down your lungs.

Combat marksmanship was fun and you made high marks at the range and you were able to bring Dabi to his knees during combat. You could tell that Katsuki was happy about you bringing that redhead down since he was constantly flirting with you. The intense kiss he had given you along with the heavy petting after the day was over confirmed that.

Land navigation was a bit tougher due to you being clueless when it came to maps, but you managed to pass the class with average marks. Your platoon did get slayed during learning how to maneuver under enemy fire because some people thought it would be fun to turn the safety off the weapons as a joke.

Drill Instructor Kirishima was nearly shot but luckily the bean bag pellet struck a large boulder next to him instead. But dammit, Kirishima is the last Drill Instructor that you wanted to get slaid by. He worked you down to the bone and did it all with a smile on his face. Situps, crunches, butterfly kicks, squats, high knees, a five mile run, every high intensity workout you could imagine the Sergeant made you do.

The next week you still avoided Bakugou’s attempts to snatch you away to his barracks. This was an important week of your training and he knew it. The advances grew less, but the looks of want and desire still continued.

You could tell he was just biding his time until he could get you alone. You knew the next time the teo of you were alone, he would show you no mercy. Your studies for the practical application evaluations were important, and you were not going to let your own desires get in the way.

You worked hard and managed to pass everything unlike a few of your comrades. You were determined to see this through to the end and get your title as a Marine. Nothing would stop you! You will pass the final exam.

It was finally time. Week ten began with a physical test which you aced due to the many times your platoon got slaid and along with your own endurance. Next was the written exam and that was not too hard since Katsuki offered to help you study, but only if you did it while sitting in his lap and for every question you got wrong he left a mark on your body.

That nearly broke you down. The feeling of those lips, teeth and tongue dancing over your body was so arousing. You were glad that you were wearing your winter gear due to it being early December, so that the many dark bites were hidden. You were dead tired by the end of the day. You showered and went to bed. Tomorrow was the Crucible.

Katsuki was slightly bitter that his little recruit had been avoiding him other than the few times he’d managed to pull you aside to kiss you senseless and slip you a few fingers inside your awaiting hole before you’d shove him away.

The only time he’d managed to convince you to come to his barracks was to help you study for the exam. His conditions were for you to sit in his lap and everytime you got an answer right, he’d reward you with a kiss, but everytime you got one wrong, he’d leave a mark on your body anywhere he chose. ‘And the little dumbass got many questions wrong before she started to get them right.’

But, he had plans for when it was time for the 54-hour long field event tomorrow. And they all included having a certain Princess screaming his name. He ran his tongue over his lips in anticipation. Bakugou was going to make you wish that you'd not denied him.

-0-0-0

You were nearing the last couple of hours of the Crucible. Your water was starting to get a bit low so you moved to go towards the spring you had managed to find, your weapon held close to your chest. Your eyes scanned the dark forest as you slowly made your way over to the water source. You made it to the spring without being tracked by an enemy platoon member.

Before refilling your water camel, you got down on your hands and knees and took a deep sip of the cool water. You shot up when you heard the leaves rustling behind you. “Hello?” You asked automatically before clamping your hand over your mouth. Fuck, that was stupid of you.

Holding your weapon close, you strained your eyes to see who could be hiding in the shadows. Your fear and anxiety was starting to get the best of you. You had been lucky so far as to not run into an enemy except during the first 12 hours, but you managed to beat them down without much of a challenge.

Just beyond the treeline, you could faintly make out the silhouette of a tall figure hiding against a tree. Taking aim with your weapon, you shouted. “You’ve been located! Surrender now or I will shoot!”

You waited for the other recruit to step out of their hiding place and admit defeat like they were supposed to, but they did not. Your nervousness grew. Why were they revealing themselves for hand to hand combat? Could it be that someone snuck into the field?

Your anxiety grew as you slowly began to back away from the silhouette that was slowly advancing on you. You took a few steps back when the clouds moved away from the moon, lighting the area. A gasp left you when you saw who was stalking you. It was Katsuki. He was dressed in his full camo gear, face paint included. “K-Katsu?”

Bakugou moved closer to his prey, a grin spreading over his face. “You’ve got to the count of ten, Princess.” He growled low in his chest as he crouched down, pressing his hands against the ground in a runner’s pose. “Then I’m hunting you down.”

Carnal desire and fear streaked you through as you watched him drop into that position. Your eyes widened and breath shortened as you dropped your weapon on the ground. You knew your current location so you could always come back to pick it up before the Crucible was over.

When he started counting backwards from ten, you took off in a sprint. Your heart was beating so loudly you could hear it in your ears. And with your limited vision, it made the thrill of the chase even more fun. You ran as fast as you could, but all too soon, you could hear Katsuki’s heavy footsteps closing in on you.

You quickly jumped over a fallen log, using the momentum to propel yourself further over the ground so put more distance between you two. After running for a few minutes, you got curious as to where he could be and ducked behind a tree. Kneeling, you took in a few breaths to calm your racing heart, you glanced around to see if you could spot him. A few clouds had obscured the moon, making the lighting limited. You sighed a small breath of relief when you could not spot the feral hunter.

Your heart stopped when you heard a soft growl rumble above you. You looked up and could see glowing crimson eyes gleaming at you; eyes the same color as the fading sun over the horizon. You quickly jumped back to your feet and took off running.

Heat was coursing through your body, so you shed your heavy camo coat and tied it around your waist. You were not going to make this easy for him. Launching yourself through a low hanging tree branch, you hid behind a large boulder. Despite the cold, sweat was running down your body. A chill ran down your spine and you scanned the area for Bakugou.

Katsuki observed his prey from the tree above you. He made sure to stay out of yourr sight, but he knew you could feel his presence. A wicked smile spread over his lips as you tried to search for him but you could not find him.

He silently dropped to the ground behind the boulder you were hiding next to. Taking extreme care to not make a sound, he walked around your hiding spot. As Bakugou watched you scan the area, he let out another growl, the sound loud and primal, that caused you to jump. “That’s two times I’ve caught you. One more, Princess.” He slinked off back into the darkness.

You watched with wide eyes as he moved back into the shadows, the camouflage paint on his face concealing him even further. Your heart was beating a mile a minute in your chest. You could not let him catch you again. Wiping at the sweat that formed on your brow, you took off again. You pushed leaves out of yourway and jumped over fallen logs.

The hidden threat in his voice made adrenaline pump through your veins that you barely registered that it was starting to snow. Your feet crunched against the leaves as you ran. You kept running this time despite the burning of your lungs. Each time you stopped, Katsuki managed to find you; so to resolve that you needed to keep running.

Pushing your legs beyond their limits, you could faintly make out the outline of the homebase camp that the company had set up. If you could make it there, Drill Instructor Jirou would make you stay there until morning.

A smile crossed your face as you ran in the direction of camp when something hard slammed into you, tackling you. You rolled onto the ground with whatever crashed into you and rough lips claimed mine in a passionate kiss. ‘Katsuki.’ Your body instantly melted against him as he pinned me to the ground.

Katsuki pulled away from your soft lips to smirk down at you. “Caught you, Princess. Now you’re mine.” He quickly pulled your shirt over your head, but kept your hands trapped inside, tying it around your wrists. He made quick work of the plain white bra that was issued to the recruits.

“You know, Dumbass, if you hadn’t refused me for so long and been such a fucking brat about it, I wouldn’t have had to hunt you down like this.” His deft fingers twisted a nipple, making you moan out loudly. “Careful there, we’re awfully close to Jirou’s home base. You wouldn’t want them to hear the slutty noises I make you make.”

A blush lit up your face as I realized just how close I had made it to the line of lights of the home camp. You were so close that you could practically see Drill Instructor Jirou marking off tasks on her clipboard. You pulled at the shirt tied around your wrists. “Katsu....” I pleaded.

He knew there was no way you could be quiet and that Jirou had some type of supersonic hearing. You were actually surprised she did not notice you earlier. He silenced youwith another kiss, his tongue pushing between the seam of your lips to intertwine with yours.

“Be quiet.” He growled. “Prey do not speak once the hunter has captured them. Now be a good little Princess and let me devour you.” His lips trail down to your jawling, where his teeth left his marks as he sucked harshly at your flesh. Katsuki reached into one of the pockets of his camos and pulled out a small cloth gag. “Only because I don’t need Jirou on my ass.”

You could only whimper as the Gunny tied the cloth around your mouth, using it to muffle your cirlcries as he attacked your neck once more, licking and sucking his way down to your breasts. His hot hand cupped one and brought the taut nipple to his lips. Your body gave a jolt when his other hand went between your thighs, pressing tighty against your covered pussy.

Katsuki bit down on your nipple, tugging on it as his paint of his face began to smear into you skin. Trailing his hot, open-mouth kisses down your belly, tongue flicking out to taste the salt on your skin from the light mist of sweat. He knew that he couldn’t take his time like he did the first time he took you. “Y’know, little Recruit. I can’t be gentle this time.”

A moan bubbled up in your throat when he smirked so ferally down at you, the black paint smeared over his eyes making his crimson eyes glow in the darkness. He’s never been this rough with you and it makes your thighs squeeze together in anticipation as Bakugou nibbles his way down your body. When he reached the apex of your thighs, his hands forced your legs to part as he slotted his torso in between them.

Bakugou smirked when the heady scent of your arousal assults is nose. Leaning down, he pressed his nose against your crotch and took him a deep breath. “Fuck, you smell good.” Using his teeth, he slid the zipper of your pants down beore popping the button open. Quickly he yanks them down to your knees and folds your legs back against your chest.

You let out a squeak when you feel his sinfully hot tongue lapping through your folds. You bit down on the cloth covering your mouth as you try to buck your hips to get away from the eveousl licks and bites. His nose rubbed your clit as his tonue dipped into your gushy hole. Saliva dampens the cloth as your tongue wets it when he pushes two of his thick fingers in with a lewd squelch.

“Be a good little slut and cum f’me already. Then I’ll give you my cock so good, you’ll barely be able to walk for a week.” His thumb worked your clit as he pumped his middle and ring finger in and out at such a pace that your breasts were jiggling from each impact. Each push and pull, the intense drag of the pads of his fingers, in your sticky walls brought you closer and closer to the explosive finish. “Atta fucking girl.” He cooed.

Coming apart from the rough treatment of your cunt, you could feel your juices run down the line of your ass and pool on your jacket. Your moans were muffled by the cloth ties around your lips as you clenched down tightly on his fingers as his tongue dragged across your clit in furious circles. Your back arches off the ground as you felt your climax hit, soaking his fingers and tongue.

Katsuki wasted no time as he licked up everylast drop you had to offer like it was his last meal. His fingers still trust in and out, albeit a bit slower as your slick coats them. “Look at the mess you fuckin’ made, Princess.” He growled as his other hand unzipped his pants and freed his throbbing cock. Stroking his lengh a few times, he pushed your legs up to your chest as he swiped the fat tip through your sticky folds.

“You’re fucking mine and don’t you ever refuse me again.” He leaned over as he slid his cock into your pretty cunt, his hands caging your head as his body pushed down on your legs. Ankles by your ears, Bakugou started harsh, deep snaps of his hips into yours, the front of his thighs slapping against the back of yours and made a wet lewd sound that echoed in your ears.

You could only lay there and take the slow, deliberate thrusts Katuski gave you, each one growing in strength that makes you tits jiggle. The clapping of his thighs meeting yours rang so loudly in your ears, that you were worried that Jirou could hear them. Your cries were muffled as you tried to press your bound hands against his chest. You plead with him with your eyes to slow down as you feel that tight ball of heat burn low in your belly.

He was going to make you cum. His quick animalistic thrust into your sloppy pussy, the gooey pat-pat-pat, his growls and groans in your ear all overstimulating your nerves. Your belly clenches as your clit throbbed, begging for release. Tears stung at the corner of your eyes, running down the sides of your face and into your hairline as your back arched off the cold ground violently. Hot, honeyed liquid squirted out of you, drenching Katsuki’s cock.

Katsuki’s face splits into a shit-eating grin. He just fucking made you squirt all over him. “Look at the mess you made. Am I fucking you that good, you had to squirt?” He laughed before reaching up to pull the gag away from your lips. Before you could make a sound, he covered your mouth with is own, swallowing down your pathetic cries as he fucked you through your high, chasing his own.

Heavy balls slapped against your ass in a rythmic pattern that was beginning to grow sloppier with each passing second. “Gonna fill this slutty pussy up. Mark you as mine on the fucking inside.” Katsuki growled against your lips as his hand came up to cover yours. His cock twicthed as it swells, his abs clenching as he felt his end nearing. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

His voice came out in snarls as his hips pumped once, twice, three times before stilling. Cocking twitching within your drippig pussy, his cum paints your walls in thick, creamy ropes of white. “You’re fucking mine. Got it?” He placed his forehead against your, the greasy war paint smearing against your skin as he moved his hand away.

Bakugou kissed you over and over again as he rocked his hips gently, making sure none of his sticky seed escapes. “All fucking mine.”

-0-0-0

You stood tall and proud on the podium, dressed in your new uniform; your Marine blues. You had finally done it. You made the transition from a civilian to a US Marine soldier. You received the highest marks in your platoon. You waited for the Drill Instructor to hand you your Eagle, Globe and Anchors, the three awards that symbolized your transformation.

You held your breath when you saw Katsuki step in front of you, your three pins held out in his palms. His face was the usual stern look of a Drill Instructor, but his eyes were burning intensely with an emotion that was meant only for you.

“Congratulations on your transition, Private!” He said loudly, voice strong and clear. As he pressed your awards into your hands, he leaned in close without being noticed and growled, “I’ll give you your proper graduation gift later. My barracks. 2300, Princess. And don’t you dare be late.”

Your knees nearly gave out as memories of the Crucible drifted through your mind. He really almost made it so that I could not walk for the next couple of days after. You have a barely there nod to let him know you understood.

Gunnery Sergeant Katsuki Bakugou always gets what he wants.

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takumislut777sexycumdumplongass · 9 months

Text

April bullies day 22 - Love, Sex and Volleyball

Pairing: bully! Bakugo x reader;

Genre: Highscool AU, smut, one-shot;

Warnings: 18+, vaginal sex, bullying, cunnilingus, masturbation

Synopsis: Bakugo is head over heels in love with you, however

Note: In this fic goto Imasuji (Muscular) is Bakugo's maternal uncle.

Bakugo had used every single thing his uncle Goto had taught him. In his opinion people are practically animals and in the animal kingdom males show their strength by eliminating their opponents. And afterwards all the fertile females are surrounding them, begging to be bred. Sadly, that wasn’t the case with you. Yes, other girls swooned whenever he passed by, but you never spared him a second glance.

That is why he was currently beating up that damn Deku, kicking him in the ribs just because the younger boy had unintentionally spilled his water bottle on him. Not that Bakugo minded much, since his abs were showing through his wet shirt. Y/n will definitely take notice now that it’s obvious. But he was wrong. In fact, you were horrified about the scene playing out before your very eyes and shouted at him to leave Izu-chan alone, angering the ash-blonde till he trapped you against the lockers with his strong, muscular arms. “Did you say something? I couldn’t quite hear ya.” To which you responded by simply shaking your head, afraid that he might beat you up too.

It wasn’t very often that Bakugo could corner you at the corridor since he was in class A while you were in class E, but luckily for him, you also attended the volleyball club and so did he…and so did Deku.

You practiced some throws with izu-chan when he suddenly didn’t receive the ball properly and it hit Bakugou at the back of his neck. Foolishly Izuku ran straight to Bakugo and bowed down one time after the other, saying apologies, but that didn’t save him from Bakugo’s wrath, who punched the helpless boy like a punchbag.

That is when you picked up another ball and did a jump serve aiming for the back of Bakugo’s head and you weren’t disappointed when it hit it’s mark. Bakugo, still raging, came onto you and threw you back against the soft walls of the court. He was ready to turn back against Izuku but the coach entered and ordered everyone to take their positions.

It was small wonder that coach didn’t say a word against Bakugo’s agressions since his uncle was well known for messing up people’s lives and the last thing coach wanted was to be on Goto Imasuji’s black list.

You helped Izuku up and teamed up with him (like always) at the opposite side of the net from Bakugo. Once the game began, Bakugo crushed everyone with his jump serves. The biggest problem was that he hit the ball so hard that his opponents couldn’t receive it without their wrists turning red from the impact. Bakugo changed his tactic by deciding to only serve for you and boy was it one hell of a torture session. By the end the result was obviously 25-0 with Bakugo’s team being victorius.

The thing was that you were an excellent player, being trained along with the boys team, but once Bakugo transferred, it was hard to keep up with him being so brutal on you.

The next day you practiced with Izu-chan again but this time you both were on the opposite side of the court, just to make sure that Bakugo wouldn’t be anywhere near to you.

Izuku finally managed to do a jump serve and you were proud of him, only the ball was stuck at the top of the Swedish ladder and you climbed up to get it out. Suddenly a ball hit you at the back of your neck, making you lose your reflexes and you fell down with your beck to the edge of a bench and then on the floor. From there you only saw Izu-chan running towards you, shouting your name before the picture went black

Once you woke at the hospital you were relieved to learn that you hadn’t broken any bones, however, you would need a rehab, plus you were obviously out of volleyball for at least a month, meaning that you had no chance of trying for participation with the boys team on the nationals. You were devastated and Izu-chan was there to console you as you cried your eyes out.

Currently you were sleeping at the dorms, since it would be easier for you to attend lessons than by coming from home to school every day. And due to your condition you were given a singles room, plus – it was one of the priciest rooms you could have in the whole dormitory. But unluckily you were forced to wear straps over your clothing to straighten your back and help you to walk. Izu-chan was always helping you to get from place to place. He would help you up from the door at the morning and say his goodbyes at the very same door.

Your evenings were obviously boring since you craved some company but to make the time pass quicker you plugged in your earphones and played some relaxing music. Though there was one problem, namely – you had forgotten to lock your door which finally paid off Bakugo for all those days he had tried to enter.

You nearly jumped off your bed once you saw his silhouette but you forgot that you had already taken your straps off so you fell back moaning in pain. Bakugo watched unmoving from his spot, but once you gazed upon him, ready to scream a get out, you stopped. The reason for it was the silent tears slowly trickling down his chin. “I’m sorry Y/n! I svear that I didn’t mean it.” He said while sobbing.

From the looks of it you felt that he was genuine about the situation. “It’s alri-…” “No it’s not!” he finally faced you. “I just…I…” he couldn’t finish the sentence whether out of shame or disgust, you couldn’t tell. “What is it? Tell me.” You said slowly leaning to him. “I…I wanted you to see my strength. The power I have. I wanted you to notice me!”. As soon as those words left his lips your eyes nearly popped out of your eyes. What the actual fuck? Notice him? Since when does he care for me?

“And since I’ve hurt you, I came to make amends.” He said, pushing you to lean back onto the pillow. You were not expecting any of this. You knew that Bakugo was the hottest shot of the whole school complex, but you’ve never had the chance to see him as something more than a bully and abuser.

You were so deep in thoughts that you were completely oblivious to the fact that he was getting your panties off. “Wait Bakugo. What are you ahhhh.” His tongue reached your core before the words could reach the tip of your tongue. “Be assured kitty, it’ll feel good!” he said before getting back to licking up and down your slit. He parted your lover lips with his fingers, so that his tongue could go deeper within you. “Ba-kugo ahhh, please.” You cried out, but you were confused whether it was out of anger or pleasure. In any case Bakugo wouldn’t stop lapping at your dripping pussy while your legs were trembling. Bakugo did have to hold your legs down or you definitely would’ve crushed his skull with your knees.

“Your mewls are sweet kitty! Mewl for me more!” he said shamelessly, making you blush. He took one of your hands in his own and placed it on your lower lips. “Hold them open for me, would ya?” you merely hummed in response and did as told before he entered a single thick finger in your opening, making you cry out a bit louder than he had expected, though he went easy on you, noticing that there was some pain in your expression. “Don’t worry kitty, it’ll weel good soon enough.” He said and continued to thrust inside of you in a slow pace which increased as your walls got used to it and he was able to enter two fingers already.

Bakugo went back to stimulating your clit, licking your fingers in the process which only added to your growing pleasure. It all was so overwhelming that you couldn’t think straight. However, you didn’t expect that in few more seconds you would cum all over his hand but Bakugo didn’t seemed phased one bit.

After licking his fingers clean he trailed sweet kisses from your pussy upwards and got his head under your immensely oversized shirt. He stopped at your breasts and took your nipple in his mouth making you moan. This time you wouldn’t try to hide any sounds from him which only boosted his confidence.

While sucking your other nipple you finally said what was already floating at the back of your mind. “Fuck me Bakugo.” It made him stop and get out from under your shirt and look at you in disbelief. You couldn’t say it out loud again but your facial expression told Bakugo everything he needed to know.

He got off the bed and discarded his own clothes and you could only watch in amazement how healthy and strong his body actually was. You couldn’t even believe that all that package was so easily hidden by his clothing.

Bakugo got back onto your bed and helped you adjust your black pair of straps. While you were waddling around the school with them he didn’t notice it, but now it looked like something close to a sexy lingerie. He got on top of you and easily pushed himself inside of you all the while being careful not to hurt your injury. He went in slow and sensual thrusts, bunching up your bedwear in the process. He was most surprised when you asked him to go faster but he denied, saying that it would hurt your back, so instead you made him lay down and got on top of him going in for a ride. And rode him you did. In fact you thrusted your hips against his so fast and so hard that Bakugo himself was surprised but he wouldn’t be bested by you, so he kept thrusting upwards as well.

You both intevined your hands, being each other’s support as well as increasing the closeness between you. It melted your heart knowing that at that moment you had full protection from him as well as all of his devotion, all of it reserved only for you.

Bakugo was losing the battle and you could feel he was near so before you both would go into a state of ecstasy you quickly kissed him on the lips. That was the moment when you stopped and came, loosing your battle of the bedwar. However, you slithered your hand around his cock and gave it a few quick pumps to get him off as well all the while still sitting on him. He came a bit harder than you expected, painting your shirt in the white ribbons of his sperm, though he did help you get a new t-shirt and a pair of shorts, but you refused to wear your bottoms, convincing him to leave his clothes off as well.

After he gave you the plan b pill both of you nested close to each other, awaiting the dawn and what it may bring for you on the morrow.

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takumislut777sexycumdumplongass · 10 months

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takumislut777sexycumdumplongass · 11 months

Note

yn coming home to a horny bkg?!

cw: suggestive smut, minors dni, f!reader works in publishing :)

bakugou lingers. it’s a hard thing to do for a man his size, he’s either there or he’s not. but sometimes when he’s trying to gauge how you’re feeling, if you’re up for playing with him, he’ll linger.

he’s been horny for a while. he doesn’t know how exactly it started but he was on his phone, then he began thinking about you, came across a photo of you with only lingerie on and now he’s stuck thinking about you even more. this chain of events causes him to rush to do the door when he hears it unlocking like a puppy waiting for his owner.

you walk through, with a sigh, back from work. you’re dropping your bag by the shoes before kicking off your trainers, the ones you change into when you get the train. he knows your feet must ache. your skirt isn’t quite centred on your waist and your pretty blouse is crumpled from the long day but it all doesn’t stop bakugou from thinking you’re beautiful. if anything he thinks you’re more so when you give him a sweet smile, placing a hand on his forearm to reach up and kiss his cheek.

“hey baby,” katsuki murmurs, brushing his lips against your cheek as you pull away. he angles his body so you don’t feel him just yet. a whiff of your floral perfume makes him get a little bigger in his shorts. “how was work?”

you give a bored shrug, pulling off your blazer (an expensive designer one he gifted you when you got promoted. along with a holiday on an island) and walking into the kitchen. again, he lingers. strolls behind you, eyeing your figure, your hips in that tight skirt, your socked feet padding across the ground. he releases a heavy breath, trying to nonchalantly lean in the doorway as you wash your hands. he can’t see you doing it with your back to him but he knows your routine like the back of his hand.

pulling off your rings, drenching your hands with soap, cleaning under your nails with your palm, between your fingers and then washing it off with warm water. he knows your routine so well that he knows the right time to switch from looking at your ass and to your face. three, two, turning the knob off, one and you spin around to grab a spare clean dishcloth to dry.

“i was there, now i’m here. nothing much happened,” you say wistfully, “finished reading a manuscript from a university student. needs to be improved so i’ll get an editor on it.”

bakugou listens, he’s always such a good listener. he nods and rubs his hand across the stubble on his chin. he’s in an old worn in grey t-shirt he wears around the house and comfy cotton shorts specifically for lounging in. he gives you attention paired with a look of adoration, corners of his eyes softer as he takes you in.

“what was it about?”

“a cruise romance story. cute but you can tell it’s her first work, you know?” you drift around the kitchen, grabbing a glass from the cupboard and pouring yourself some cold filtered water from the fridge.

bakugou hums in response, stares at your throat as you down the water, at your vest underneath your blouse, at how you place a hand on the kitchen counter to steady yourself. once you place the glass back down, bakugou’s walked closer, resting his head on your shoulder. his arms circle your waist and his chest is warm on your back. he holds you in his hug and you finally let go of the day in his arms, leaning back and resting your head on his shoulder. your hand rubs up his bicep, “how was your day?”

he grumbles under his breath and you know what that means without words. “did some paperwork in my office here. they love callin’ it a day off but still sendin’ me shit to sign off.”

you laugh and it’s the brightest thing he’s heard all day. he likes the rumble of your stomach when you do so. “i’m sorry to hear that.” he knows for part of you, that’s true. “did you still go gym? finish building your ship? treat yourself to a hot chocolate from the shop by kirishima’s?”

“why the fuck do you know me so well?”

you turn your head to look at him, “maybe because we live together and we’ve been together for ages?”

he gives you a kiss to silence you and he thinks it’s the right time to press his hips into your ass. he pulls away just in time to see your eyes brighten, a jump in your face and the shine of longing in your eyes.

“talking about my boring day gets you hard?”

“yeah. you talkin’ about anythin’ does,” he speaks into your throat before pressing a line of wet kisses on your skin.

you’re his, have been for a while so you sigh into it, reaching up to brush your fingers through the hair on his nape.

“did i get you on the wrong day?” his voice is deep, gruff and you feel completely covered by him. he’s everywhere, large hand drifting to your breast and another to the middle of your thighs. it makes you feel hot, wanted and you don’t mean to push back into his cock. actually, maybe you did.

you shake your head, biting down on your lip when his stubble pricks you from time to time. he could manhandle you, pull your legs apart and flip you around or maybe push you down over the kitchen island and grind on you.

“speak to me baby. love hearin’ you talk,” he’s a little impatient, pushing up your skirt to place his calloused hand between your thighs. he grips you to hold you in place and just his fingers brushing against your panties makes you sigh. you have no clue what he has over you to get you to zero to hundred so quickly.

“this is a good day for this. really good day,” you breathe and it’s only then when he squeezes your breast through your blouse hard enough to make you gasp. he kisses you, this time slipping his tongue into your mouth and taking all of you.

he’s in control, you want him to be after making so many decisions at work. the idea of handing him your body, trusting him to make you feel relaxed sounds like the best idea right now.

the kiss twists your insides, gets your abdomen tightening and heating up. you’re using your hands to pull him to you even closer and bakugou reacts by doing the same. he sucks on your tongue, so talented that your panties are damp now.

you pull away to breathe and he wastes no time spinning you around to face him.

“so how long have you been waiting for me to come home?”

he doesn’t waste a second, “since you left.”

your hands are flat on his chest and his eyes are drifting over every part of you. your tits squashed against his chest, your blouse crumpled with more skin necessary for an office environment. your skirt is basically a mini skirt with all his pulling and your face. your face has to be the prettiest part of you. looking at him knowingly, lips puffed from claiming you and the smile lines by your eyes.

“you’ve been hard since i left? gym must have been shit for you,”

he breathes a laugh, both hands coming up to cradle your head. he pecks your nose, “why d’you wanna know how long for?”

he thrusts into you slightly, and your eyes flutter shut for half a second longer than necessary, “i like the thought of you sitting and waiting for me. hard but not doing anything about it until i’m home.”

bakugou cocks a brow. he loves you more than he can explain. his hands drop from your face to begin to unbutton your shirt. you hate when he rips them open and now he’s using his brain to be more considerate.

“i think about you all fuckin’ day. maybe an hour and a half ago i was thinking about you naked, all pretty for me while i was on the sofa. then i started looking at photos of you on my phone,” you don’t realise you’re practically purring at him, staring at his lips form every word. he begins to unzip your skirt. “that sexy one of you in the blue lacy set, lookin’ fuckin’ angelic. almost made me start touchin’ my cock. then you texted me that you were on your way, so i waited. tucked myself in my waistband so it wasn’t the first thing you saw when you walked through the door.”

he chuckles to himself at that, letting your blouse and skirt fall to the floor. you let him do it, standing in just your tight vest and panties. he gulps when he notices the colour.

“you’re wearin’ the…,” you give him a sultry gaze with a bubbling smile like you’re keeping a secret that’s on the urge of bursting out.

he yanks off the tank top and he looks as if it’s a miracle.

“blue lacy set. fuckin’ angelic baby,” he murmurs, looking across your body like you came down from the heavens. if you ask him he would say you did. he runs his hands down your hips as if he’s relearning what your skin feels like, as if he’s forgotten from just this morning. he begins to nibble little kisses across your chest which has your head flinging back in ecstasy. he’s going to leave a mark but you couldn’t care less in this moment, opening your legs wider for him to slot in. he’s like a rabid animal, trying to taste as much as you as he can, “did you wear it f’me?”

you’re breathless, “how was i supposed to know you’d be wanking off to that specific image of me?”

he nibbles hard on your skin and the pain makes you jolt, “katsuki!” he’s reattaches himself to your tits while you try to pull off his tshirt. he pulls away for a split second to let you and your hands are all over his toned tattooed chest. now this was for you.

“y’can never sweet talk me, can you baby?” his tone is humorous and his skin is hot. there’s a panic now, everything much faster than the softer kisses you were practicing before.

“do you want me to lie? sometimes i wear lingerie for myself, some rare occasions i wear it for you.”

“and this wasn’t a me occasion?” his hands grip at your thighs.

“nope.”

“it fuckin’ feels like it,” and in one motion, he’s lifting you to place you on the kitchen island.

“it’s cold!” you cringe, though you’re grabbing for him again, like you’re hopeless without him.

“good,”

you only manage to roll your eyes before he pushes your back down on the counter and pushes your legs so your knees are by your face. he kisses down your thighs, until he gets face to face with one of his favourite parts of you.

“gorgeous…,” you trail off and bakugou flicks his eyes to meet yours.

the sight makes you soak. your lovers burning red pupils, parted lips almost salivating for you. he’s bullied his way between your thighs, shoulders wider than your hips. he can’t hold eye contact for too long before he locks onto the darker patch of your panties.

he brushes a harsh thumb against the spot and your hips jolt. his smirk makes you whine.

“what do you want?”

you huff petulantly and he lays a loving kiss on your thigh.

“want you. want to to kiss me there,”

bakugou nods like he’s agreeing to a business deal. he hooks a finger in your panties and yanks them to the side.

“fuck, ‘m fuckin’ lucky to have you.”

you’re so turned on, you can feel your pulse in your temples and your chest is rising off the counter at every exhale. he still hasn’t started.

“how long for?” and the question confuses you, lifting your head to frown.

“what?”

“how long d’you want me to eat you for?” his smirk is devilish, throwing your question back in your face, “can go on f’hours, pretty.”

“until i come… twice.”

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takumislut777sexycumdumplongass · 11 months

Text

╰┈➤ ꒰🍓💌🌶 ┊”You’re ovulating?” + BKG ꒱

『♡』 this was longer but tumblr literally fucking ate it! I’m actually still upset about it not going to lie. :(( anyways ovulation is killing me and I want this man to fuck me till I can’t breathe :))

『♡』 f!reader, ovulation, creampie, unprotected sex, cum eating, light choking, light finger sucking, squirting, Bj/Pussy Eating, light breeding

Katsuki walks in and loses his breath. He drops every thought in his mind, floating away like they were never there to begin with. A hushed, slow breath leaves his lips. Cock growing hard in his pants, he watches.

There you are, sprawled out on your shared bed. Black comforter under your pretty body as you work. Your legs spread as you pump fingers in and out of yourself.

He watches the way your head is thrown back, the gasp tumbling from your lips when you rub your clit. And something takes control of him.

He drops his belt to the ground, yanking his work shirt over his head and throwing it. His gauntlets and other finicky objects are in the garage where they belong. And you are in bed, where you belong.

Katsuki stalks in, dick pressing against the fabric of his pants. His mind races and he loses his wits when he hears you moan his name.

“Baby.” He mumbles, deep and rich voice flooding your senses.

You snap up, to your elbows, closing your legs. You look like you’ve been caught doing something you’re not supposed to and shy.

“I- I’m sorry m jus- I’m ovulating and-“ You get out, pussy clenching at the sight in front of you.

And oh god, is it a look. He’s so thick, little bit of sweat on his neck. His chest is large and because of work and the gym today he’s got a pump. Slick slides from your pussy onto the mattress. He’s still got his hero mask on and somehow it makes it hotter.

“You’re ovulating?” He questions, staring at your closed knees. He wants them open, wants to see your pretty pussy.

You nod, face heating and slowly beginning to spread your legs. Your pussy is clenching around nothing, slick juices sliding between your ass cheeks. It glistens in the light filtering through the bedroom.

Katsuki gasps, cock beginning to leak precum. And he makes his move.

His thick, rough fingers make quick work of spreading your legs the rest of the wayand his tongue is suddenly everywhere.

He sucks on your clit and rubs his cock against the mattress when you moan. Tongue sliding between your folds like he’s been starving for you.

“Yes yes yes!” You sing, gripping at his blonde locks of hair. But it isn’t enough. It feels amazing, your body hot all over and pussy throbbing like it has a heartbeat.

But it isn’t enough.

You pounce, pulling him onto the bed. You make quick work of pulling down his pants, shoving your tongue in his mouth. They dance there, exploring despite knowing one another so well.

He whimpers and your pussy leaks some more and you move so that he’s on his back. He’s such a fucking beauty.

Plush lips, nice and pink. His face is flushed and his eyeliner from work has smudged a bit. You watch his chest rising and falling and tears prick your eyes.

“Bunny?” He murmurs, so fucking sweet.

“I need your cock in me now or I’m going to fucking die.” You get out, pulling his pants further down.

He lifts his hips and gets them off the rest of the way. You actually almost cum when you see his cock. The precum looks so good you think about licking it up.

But you don’t. You sink down on top of him and whine, hands finding hold on his chest. Your fingers splay against him and you begin to bounce and rock back and forth.

He’s letting out airy moans and gasps, fingers digging into the fat on your hips. Something about it sets you on fire.

You keep going, feeling your pussy suck him in. He’s so big, so good. Your thighs burn and your body tingles. His cock brushes against your gspot and you lose it.

“Fuck me- fill me- oh fuck!” You whimper out, nails digging into his chest.. and he’s manhandling you.

You’re on your back before you can protest. Cock shoved back into you, knees hooked over his shoulders. It’s lewd, how you squelch. Pussy juice and precum mixing together.

Something in your stomach twists. His hand wraps around your throat and squeezes- just a little- and oh god you’re fucking flying. You grab onto the comforter so you don’t float away.

His cock is buried in you, deep. So deep you think you feel him in your throat. He’s still moaning and it’s god you on cloud nine.

“Gonna fuckin’ fill you with my cum and- and-“ He gasps out, with a long and hard thrust. This one makes your eyes roll back and you barely register the clear juices gushing from your pussy.

He takes a moment and slows down, tongue tracing over your lips and he takes the moment to drown in the taste of your spit. He can still taste a little bit of your lunch and drink on his tongue. But it still tastes like you and he can’t think straight.

Katsuki loses himself, loses his mind cause you’re squeezing down on him. And you look so good, you taste so good, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“Katsuki-“ You whimper out, and you mumble something he barely hears. Something you get shy about, the both of you.

He moves his face so it’s closer to your neck, so his lips are beside your ear and he can say things just as breathily as you.

“Yeah? M’ gonna fuck you dumb n make you a momma, yeah? That’s what you want honey?” Katsuki rasps, hot breath on your neck.

You start chanting out agreements, nodding, whining and whimpering beneath him. He licks the column of your throat and nibbles , stroking deep.

He reached up and pushes his fingers into your mouth, and you suck between babbles and whines.

His cock slams into you, pushing deep and your eyes roll back. Your toes curl and for the umpteenth time you’re floating again. The world goes still and you claw at his shoulders. You don’t even register him replacing his fingers with his tongue, kissing you, deep and slow. You can faintly taste your pussy on his tongue.

“That’s my good girl, that’s it, take it.” He gasps out, watching as clear spurts of liquid leave your tight hole.

His cock is still slamming into you, making you bounce and gasp and moan with every thrust. It hurts and it feels good all the same. His fingers reach and dig into the plush of your ass and he lowers himself to nibble at your neck.

Katsuki loses his last bits of sanity when you whimper out, begging him to fuck his cum in you and give you a baby. It makes his head foggy, he forgets everything he ever learned in sex ed.

You’re licking at the column of his throat, savoring every little taste you can of his sweat. He tastes like fucking honey on your lips and you can’t get enough of him.

He pushes his cock in as deep as he can, body taut as he stills. The head presses against your cervix and he cums. And he whimpers, body shaking before it eventually begins to relax. He stays like that, letting the cum suffuse until you’re leaking with it and then he moves again.

Slow and controlled, lifting up a bit to kiss you deep and make you feel every little bit of him. He allows himself to fuck the cum into you, reveling in the quiet gasps you make. You’re so sensitive, both of you, but it feels so good. It’s the fact that he’s intentionally doing it- knowing it can and probably will get you pregnant.

And he’s gentle when he pulls back, getting to his knees to lick at the juices and cum that have spilled out. But you know he’s holding back, for your sanity.

“You’re gonna be mine forever now.” He mumbles to himself, but you catch it and your pussy squeezes with his cum inside you.

He takes his time with you in the shower, eating your pussy like a starving man, and then washing your hair.

Katsuki thanks all his lucky stars when you suck his cock until it’s milked. And he sees stars when you catch some of his cum on your fingers and shove them up your pussy. Pushing his cum into you for the second time that night.

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takumislut777sexycumdumplongass · 1 year

Text

Don’t Turn On the Lights

Villain!Bakugou x F!Reader Series

Warnings: +18 MINORS DNI!!! Obsessive behaviour, stalking, threatening, violence, fear, prison, alcohol drinking, abduction, character death (not reader’s), blood, smut, oral sex (f.receiving) penetration, creampie,

DISCLAIMER: Characters belong to Kohei Horikoshi

A.N.: Before engaging, please read the warnings carefully and if there’s some missing, please let me know!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

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takumislut777sexycumdumplongass · 1 year

Text

Drabbles

Bakugou

Spending Valentine’s Day Together

Bully Bakugou puts you in a full Nelson

Milf Chaser Bakugou

Punishment for brats

Jealous Bakugou

Accusing you of cheating

Recording sex

Teasing Bakugou

Hispanic Reader

Riding while he records

Virgin Bakugou pt2

Mean Dilf Bakugou w/ thicc reader

Virgin Bakugou uses you like a flesh light

Tit Job

Domming Bully Bakugou

Bully Bakugou gets you in a closet

Bull Bakugou with a breeding kink

Receives birthday head

Mean Dilf Bakugou spanks bratty reader

Overstimming Virgin Bakugou

Making reader curse for the first time

Dilf Bakugou, cafe worker reader (no smut)

Bottom Bull Bakugou

Sweet Dilf Bakugou (no smut)

Accuses you of cheating...again (humor)

Fucking machine

Bully Bakugou puts you in a mating press

Gn!Reader doesn’t like degradation

Phone sex

Dry humping Virgin Bakugou

Threatening to send out sex tape to an ex

Bratty reader flirting with his friends

Doctor Bakugou

Celebrity gf does vogue routine (humor)

Lion quirk reader

Yakuza boss

Farmer Bakugou helping cow reader in heat

Experienced Bakugou with Virgin reader

Submissive Bakugou

Using him as a dildo

Husband makes you wet yourself

Somno with perv Bakugou

Bull Bakugou with mommy kink

Sanrio reader with goth Bakugou

Celebrating Mother’s Day with you (fluff)

Everything’s gonna be okay (hurt/comfort)

Sitting on his face

Stripper reader/Stripper Bakugou

Licking nectar from your body

Mermaid Bakugou (no smut)

Werewolf Bakugou with bunny reader

Barbarian Bakugou kills for you (comfort)

Demon King monster fucking

Records himself for money

Cute aggression

Flirting with black interviewer

Kirishima

Spending Valentine’s Day Together

Dilf Kirishima punishing brat

Dilf Kirishima spoiling you

Dilf Kirishima, dumb babysitter

Dancer reader

Domestic Dilf Kirishima

Barista Kiri

Dragon Kirishima monster fucking

Izuku

Newly PH Deku eating you out

Older PH Deku who’s really tired

Cuddling with his plus size lover (comfort)

Reader thanks Izuku for saving her

Quirk mishaps during sex

Using him as a human dildo

Dilf Deku, dumbification

Bird hybrid reader

Dancer reader

Villain Deku

Dilf Izuku

Farmer Deku helps birdie reader

Werewolf Izuku monster fucking

Bakugou and Kirishima

Threesome

Black!Reader twerking on live

Pain slut reader

“Just” friends

Procrastinating reader

Bakugou railing you while Kiri calls

Squirting

Fat Gum

Milf Chaser

Aizawa

Milf Chaser

Crushing on his TA

Hawks/Keigo

Milf Chaser

Denki

Virgin Denki

Riding him in the movies

Bakugou and Momo

Bullying virgin reader

Momo

Milf Momo, foot job at restaurant

Cheating on husband (no angst)

Secret relationship with reader

Bakugou, Kirishima, Deku, and Todoroki

Gangbang

Dilf gangbang

Todoroki

Vampire Todoroki monster fucking

Sero

Octopus Sero monster fucking

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takumislut777sexycumdumplongass · 1 year

Note

Can we see little blurb as a full length fic for requests this was adorable yet so naughty

{AN}-> I'm debating if I should make this a strict NSFW page where all the deep thirst is but at the same time I like writing fluff too, hmmmmm, I'm honestly doing this memory and kinda altered it a bit

{AN prt2} this is extremely overdue.

warnings; Smut; female reader, dirty talk, language. possessive, thigh riding, multiple orgasms(?), Overstim (?), proceed at your own risk!!

All characters are above the age of 18, taking place AFTER UA high.

================================

It all mostly started because you wanted more experience than what you currently had. You were fresh out of UA, ready to head-on with your life. Although, you're off to a pretty good start since you had a pretty nice place to stay with your roommate, Izuku. You had already been good friends so sharing a place to live wasn't a bad idea. You both put in your fair share of the rent, groceries, and other bills. On top of that, you also kept each other in good company.

However, at some point, everyone gets a little romantically lonely and you were feeling it more than ever. You decided to start dating but none of the guys you had met weren't meeting your expectations. They were shallow, some of them were too pervy, and immature and others just wanted sex.

So something had possessed you to go to Bakugo. Do not let his character fool you, this man attracts women like ants to honey. He was built like a god, had gorgeous features, strong, and was...experienced. Long story short you had both become friends with benefits after you came to some agreements.

1. this would remain between you both. He was big on privacy

2. if this were to happen neither you nor him would sleep with other people, for health purposes

3. if there were to be something more, you would have to let him know right away.

they were reasonable enough so, of course, you agreed. Whenever you need some company or something more you just give him a call or go over to his place. It was a lot more than just hookups tho, the sex was amazing but having him to yourself was really great too. During your periods if your cramps were bad and you just wanted cuddles, he would lay with you for however long you needed. Or maybe you wanted to go shopping and needed some help picking stuff out, he'll come with you

Oh, and he has a habit of sending you to get something so he could pay a majority of the sum. He somehow gets it right every time so you think you snagged a deal. Sometimes he spoils you and buys you some nice lingerie for special nights.

Well, today you had told him you could have a movie night. Only he had opened the door to something he did not like. You were playing some video games with Izuku before he had to go out, and you had your legs laid across his lap. His arms resting over your legs. In Bakugou's opinion, he was way too close to you.

"Maybe I should leave since you guys are having fun together." he sneered crossing his arms at the scene.

"Katsuki! You're here!" you said pausing the game "we were just playing a few rounds before Izuku went out," you said as you stood up from your spot

"Hey Kachan, I was just heading to the agency, it was good to see you again though," he said grabbing his phone and heading for the door "I'll see ya later Y/N!" you wave to Izuku as he closed the door and look back to the blonde. You head over to him and kiss his cheek

"What's got you all grumpy?" you ask about his grimace

"Whatever, it's nothing let's watch the movie" he grumbled getting the account set up on the TV and getting the movie running. You took your spot next to him getting comfortable in his arms. You knew by his lack of movements or comments that he usually makes

"hey." you said budging him but he didn't move. Well now you were left with one option

"hey" you repeated

"hey"

"he-"

"What?!" he snapped

"Why are you all pissed at me?" you ask coming off of him to sit on your knees

"Why don't you ask you, little boyfriend, Dek-" he stopped looking you up and down "The hell are you wearing?" he snarled

"Huh?" you look down to Deku's hoodie that you were wearing "O-oh, it got cold and he offered his hoodie s-so I took it and-"

"So what are you fukin' him too?" he interrupted

"No Katsuki!" you defend "God it's a damn hoodie, either way, why are you so jealous? It's not like you're my boyfriend!"

"Not your boyfriend huh?" taking your wrist he takes you into what is Deku's room and sat on his bed "We'll see what you say after this," he smirks deviously and strips from the sweats he was wearing to reveal his muscular thighs

"pants, now," he demanded "you're gonna cum all over my thigh teddy bear" he smirked

"B-but what abou-"

"Come on, maybe I'll even forgive you," he said patting his lap. You had to be honest for one thing seeing his muscles and him being demanding in the bedroom was really a turn-on. You pull your pants down along with your panties and walk towards him. His hand lands on your hips as he leads you to straddle his thigh and sit down Direct contact with the muscle made you shiver. He pats your ass with a squeeze and said

"Start grinding those hips baby," he smirked as his hands travel up under the hoodie you wore to caress your skin. You do as he demands and grinds forward and back, forward and back. A long sigh escapes your lips

"That's it, baby, get yourself off on my leg." he flexes his thigh increasing the pressure on your clit making your jolt "take this shit off, 'wanna see those tits," he said practically ripping off your shirt and the hoodie along with it. Your nipples are exposed to the cool air as you keep grinding his leg

"Katsuki~" you mewl as you throw your head back, his arm circling around you bringing you flush against him as he sucks on your neck. Moving from place to place making sure to mark his territory. With a shake and jolt, you come undone all over his thigh. Your body jolts every now and then as hold on to his shoulders.

"Good girl~" he growls lifting you up a bit to show how much you had come. A string still connected to your dripping pussy glistens in the light

"K-katsuki..." you pant still coming down from your high

"Don't whine now doll, I'm not done just yet" he smirks as he flips you over and throws you onto the bed. You watch as he slides his sweatpants off, his cock springing hard. His calloused hands meet your knees as he kneels in front of your and rubs the head of his cock over your silky slit.

"Damn, nice and wet, just how I like it," he grinned "Ready for me, teddy bear?"

You nod your head, aching to be filled with his cock. He slides in effortlessly, making you both sigh in relief and pleasure. You constricted around him tightly and he filled you deliciously. He pulls out painfully slow and rams himself back in.

"Fuck!" he finds a steady pace as he rocks his hips back and forth. "Pussy, so good...only I can fuck you, you know this" he panted flipping you onto all fours. One hand pushing your shoulders down and keeping your ass up "Even your pussy knows it. I can feel it squeeze me whenever I tell you so" he growls.

This had to be one of his favorite view and position. A firm spank comes down on your ass making you jolt. Even when he was so erotic and vulgar with his words, it only elevated the pleasure.

"Fuck yourself back on to my cock baby, just how you like!" he huffs leaning back enough for you to continue riding him back. The way your ass bounced on his cock, the sounds filling the room. The idea of him fucking you in Deku's room just added to the entire act.

"K-katsu~" you moan as his larger hands hold your hips ones again and gets back into his thrusting rhythm. "fuck" you whispered as you could feel your stomach cramp in another orgasm. You could feel him twitch inside of you as his pumps became more violent and sloppy.

"Shit princess, where do you want it?" he asks chasing both of your highs with a constant rhythm of spanks following.

"i-inside!" you pant out feeling yourself climbing higher and higher.

"Yea inside?! Who does this pussy belong to? Who do You belong to?!" Punctuating each question with more strikes to your ass

"YOU KATSU! YOouu!~" you cry out as you cum over his cock once again. With a few more pumps he empties himself inside you. You milk him while his cock pulses inside, emptying his load into you. His body looming over you but close enough to feel the heat radiating off of his body. He pulls out of you, and slumps over next to you. He pulls you in close to him and sticks his nose into your hair.

Despite having intense sex, he knew that after care is always important, even if they were just cuddles.

"...you know I could consider the option if you just brought it up," he mumbled into your hair

"Huh? What are you talking about," you said flipping over to face him

"..you know the whole. Boyfriend thing..I guess" he said nearly whispering. Truth was he really did have an attachment to you. You chemistry was good, you communicate pretty well maybe the dating thing was worth a shot, right?

"Hmmm, alright how about a proper date tomorrow night?" you offer wrapping your arms around his neck. "How's that sound boom-boy?" you tease with a smile

"fine..but I pick the place." he said sternly tucking you under his chin. "and your ass is moving in with me after this." he huffed making you giggle.

lil time skip...

Note: "Dear Deku, keep your shit stuff away from what's mine(Y/N)"

"...Huh I didn't know they were a thing..."

"P.S. thanks for letting us use your sheets as a cum rag." -B.K It was safe to say Deku did some early laundry that night. He wore gloves and everything to avoid touching any residue.

===================================

hope you enjoyed this ~ 🍋there will be more to come

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takumislut777sexycumdumplongass · 1 year

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My Eyes Are Up Here!

Pairings: Bakugou x fem!reader (aged up)

Summary: You and Bakugou were at a Pro Hero Gala, and seeing you in a certain dress just does something to Bakugou

Genre: SMUT! MINORS DNI‼️

Warnings: You and Bakugou fucking in a coat room, kissing, cursing, dirty talk, just everything you could think of involving smut

MasterList

A/N: My requests are open! <3

“Babe! Are ya ready?” Bakugou called out to you from the living room as he placed on his coat, you two were just about to leave for a Pro Hero Met Gala that happens every so often. Katsuki really hates them, but you encourage him that these events can get his name out there. “Yeah! One sec!” You quickly touched up your dark lipstick before fluffing out your hair one last time, you quickly grabbed your purse before walking down the stairs. Katsuki heard your heels clicking down the stairs making him turn around, “Fucking finally, taking all the fucking- holy fucking shit.” He stopped his sentence midway admiring you from an angle, you had on a very tight long maroon dress. There was a slit by your left leg, your hair was in a big puffy bun with loose strands of hair coming down on the sides. “Like my dress I’m assuming?” You teased at him as you walked down the previous stairs, “Hell fucking yeah.” You giggled as you walked over to him placing your hands on his chest, you looked up at his crimson dark eyes. You played with his tie as you sighed, “Could say the same about you Kats.” Bakugou smirked at you as his hands roamed every piece of your body making you sigh softly, “You always look so fucking good for me baby, fucking hell.” He moved your head to the side to attack your neck, you moaned softly as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You whimpered when you felt him bit down on your collarbone, “K-katsuki, stop we have to get going.” You pushed him away as he whined, “I mean we could always just not go.” He said with a grin as he went to attack your neck again but only for you to push him back lightly, “Kats, i did my hair and makeup. Were going.” Katsuki sucked his teeth before grabbing your hand as you two walked out the house, “Just know I’m finishing the job later princess.” He said in your ear before lightly biting your lobe.

Once you two arrived at the event, there were paparazzi everywhere. “DynaMight!” “Y/N! DynaMight! Over Here!” “Love the dress Y/N!” “DynaMight! Who are you wearing!” A bunch of them swarming with questions, Katsuki gave them all scowls. You two were on the red carpet as multiple paparazzi took pictures of you two, some solo but mostly you two together. Katsuki pulled you into his chest as you placed a hand on his torso leaning into him. Flashing lights blinding you from every angle, until you two decided you were done with pictures for the night. You two quickly met up with the rest of your old classmates. Kirishima quickly noticing you guys and making his way to you. “Bakugou! Y/N! Nice to finally see you joining us.” Kirishima dabbed up Bakugou as he gave you a hug with a back rub, “Hey kiri! How’s everything?” You asked him with a smile, he returned a sharp smile back at you, “Been great! Never better, how about you two?” “Same old, same old.” You joked around “Kacchan still being the grumpy old Kacchan.” Kaminari’s voice came from behind Kirishima, you smiled at him. Katsuki gave him the finger, “Shut your ass up Sparky.” You gave Katsuki a frown, “So disrespectful.” You said with a bit of tease making everyone else laugh, “Keep testing me woman.” You gave him a smirk making him grin at you, “Anyways, where’s the rest of the gang?” You asked Kiri who then pointed to a table where everyone else sat, you nodded before grabbing Bakugou’s hand and dragging him to greet your other friend’s.

After a few hours of drinks and talking, the ceremony was gonna start in about 25 minutes. Usually about awards or about the high top chart of hero’s. You were talking Momo about something when you felt a hand grab your wrist pulling you out of your seat. You yelped as you turned to see who it was, only to find your boyfriend who had that shit eating grin. “Momo! I’m so sorry I’ll be with you in a minute.” “No worries Y/N.” Momo waved you off with a smile, your turned to face Katsuki. “Kats! What the hell are taking me?” “You’ll fucking see baby.” You sighed knowing what was gonna happen, he quickly pulled you into a room filled with everyone’s coats. It was a really nice room that was meant for coats, before you could even process what was happening Bakugou pushed you into the wall. You gasped lightly at the sudden movement. “Katsuki! You were really are gonna do this right here?” “What the fuck do you think?” You rolled your eyes as he started to pulled the top of dress down to reveal your lacy bra, “W-what if we get caught or something?” You moaned lightly as he started to kiss your cheek and kissing down your neck, “We’re fine Y/N, just let me fucking touch you.” You moaned a bit loudly this time as he started to cup your tits through your bra, he then un-clipped it behind you with one hand. You moaned at the contact, you shivered at the cold air hitting your sensitive nipples. They immediately hardened in his touch making him darkly chuckle, “Fuck baby, these fucking tits.” He bent down to latch his mouth onto a nipple, circling his warm tongue over the bud. You placed your head back on the wall, whimpering and moaning. “I-oh fuck, katsuki.” You placed a hand in his hair scratching his scalp making him groan, you immediately cupped his face to bring him back to face you. You crashed your lips on his making him moan lightly, he cupped your neck as he shoved his tongue into your mouth making you moan lightly. You both pulled away for air but not for your lips to stop touching, your cheeks felt like a wave of heat.

“God, i can’t get enough of you Y/N.” His hands wandered down to your lower region as he picked up the bottom of your dress, he groaned seeing your thong. “Shit, I bet your already dripping for me aren’t you princess?” He said in your ear making you shiver at his hot breath, “Katsu, please!” “Please what baby?” You felt his finger tips slowly rubbing circles over your clothed clit, “T-touch me.” “Touch you where? Use your big girl words.” You groaned at him teasing, getting frustrated. “My pussy! P-please Baby, rub my pussy till I’m numb!” He smirked before rubbing off your thong making you gasp “Good girl.” He dug his fingers into your sex making you jump at the contact of his thick fingers entering you. “Oh! Fuck! Katsu!” “I know baby, feels so good hm?” You nodded into his neck as you wrapped your arms and legs around him gripping onto him for dear life. “Jesus, could you feel you squeezing my fingers baby. You close?” You whimpered out an answer making him coo at you, “Aw, my poor baby wants to come on daddy’s fingers hm?” “Yes! Yes! Please daddy!” “Go ahead baby, make a fucking mess on my fingers you slut.” You shivered as you felt a gush of white hitting you, you could see stars as your orgasm hit you like a bus. Katsuki held you as you shivered and jolted at the intense pleasure, “Fuck baby, making a mess everywhere.” He took his soaked fingers out of your pussy, a glistening clear substance dribbling down his fingers. He slowly placed his fingers in his mouth sucking off your sweet nectar. You moaned as you watched him, “Taste so sweet like always baby.” He cupped your face as he placed his lips on you, you could taste yourself on his tongue. “Taste yourself princess?” You nodded with a whine, “W-want your cock.” “Tch, so demanding.” He unbuttoned his jeans before sliding them down, he placed his hands in his boxers freeing his member. His cock jumped out slapping his stomach, you eyes widened. He chuckled “I know baby, so big.” You whined as you wrapped your arms around his neck to bring him closer to you, he lined himself up to your core. He looked into your eyes softly. “Ready?” You nodded as he immediately shoved his cock into you, you had to burry your head into his shoulder to moan. “O-oh fuck, Jesus- baby.” Katsuki moaned as he thrusted into your pussy, the room filled with skin slapping and echoing in the room. “Katsuki! So big!” “I know princess, m-my big cock destroying your insides.” “I love you K-Kats!” Tears ran down your face in pleasure as you felt that similar burning in the pit of stomach like earlier, he thrusted more harder into you. “Fuck! I’m cumming baby, i love you more.” His thrust became sloppy as your body twitched, “Oh f-fuck baby!” You squealed as your toes scrunched up in pleasure, you moaned and whimpered. Your body jolted more than last time as you came on his twitching cock, you felt his cock twitch more. “Oh fuck! I’m cumming! S-shit!” His hips stuttered as a heavy dump of warm cum filled you up full, he rested his head by your neck as he you both panted like you both ran a 5 mile run. He jolted as he finished, you closed your eyes. You both jumped when you heard an announcement discussing that that ceremony is starting in ten minutes, “Just in the nic of time.” Katsuki gave you a smirk as you ran your fingers through his sweaty hair, you laughed softly. “Can’t have them waiting big guy.” You both quickly started to freshen up, you looked into the mirror by the door to fix your makeup and hair. Katsuki fixed his tie and jacket, you turned to face him. “What?” You chuckle as you rubbed away the lipstick stain on his jaw, “Can’t be suspicious.” He chuckle lightly before grabbing your hand and quickly making it back to your seats.

You two quickly met up with your classmates, “I’m guessing you two had a fun time.” Sero teased at you two making the rest of the boys laugh and cackle, “The fuck you talking about Tape Boy?” “Might wanna check your necks lovebirds.” Denki teased at you making your eyes go wide, Katsuki looked away with a growl. You two flushed pink, “W-we um I- “Just shut your mouths.” Katsuki demanded them as they continued to snicker at you two. You looked up at Katsuki with a shy smile, he huffed before grabbing your hand to go sit back down. “Let’s just get this shit over with already.”

Tag-List: @ebiharachan @otomefan @amis-love-bugs @slasherstories123 @writeslikedream

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takumislut777sexycumdumplongass · 1 year

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all of a sudden i started gaining random followers on here wtf

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takumislut777sexycumdumplongass · 1 year

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*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— the mystery of misery + katsuki bakugou, eijirou kirishima.

૮˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶ა synopsis — you’ve spent your whole life running from the shackles of your past and the misery surrounding it, but, after the death of your estranged mother— you return to your small hometown to lay her to rest. while you’re there, the whispers of whiteridge begin to unravel, revealing mysteries of love, loss and lies that all tie back to a childhood flame and the town’s recluse.

⭑ general warnings — please read + mdni ! heavy!angst, heavy!smut, fluff, happy ending, characters aged up to twenties, strangers/childhood friends to lovers, major character deaths, themes of death, injury descriptions (bones), murder mystery, childhood trauma, gaslighting, manipulation, arguments, fight scenes, anxiety, panic attacks, therapy, pet names (sweetheart, darling, baby etc.), fem!reader, southern!au, small town!au, quirkless!au.

⭑ smut warnings — three scenes, protected/unprotected sex, drunk sex, clothed sex, oral sex (m + f!receiving), blowjobs, handjobs, fingering (f!receiving), nipple play, body worship, dry humping, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, orgasm control, choking, biting, scratching, marking, threesomes, cucking, frottage, double vaginal penetration, squirting, creampies, possession, birth control, condom usage, aftercare, light!degradation, light!dumbification, light!dacryphilia, light!baby trapping, strength!kink, praise!kink, size!kink, spit!kink, uses of cunt, pussy, cock dick etc. reader is picked up/carried.

⭑ words — 51.1K.

⭑ notes — waah !! here it is !! my baby, my passion project. this fic is an accumulation of of a month of screaming, crying + throwing up but i'm so happy to give it to you all. i've never been so proud of something, it's a lot, its heavy but its very much me and indulgent. sorry in advance for the text walls/length but i hope you guys will love it as much as i do! special thanks to @yuki-no-akumu for all the support and editing and formatting!! and @heartdevil too ! m.list / playlist / ao3 ✩

some memories are easier to forget than others.

like scars, they can fade with time until they’re hardly noticeable— as if they were never even there to begin with. others cling to familiar scents and sights and sensations, etched into the landscape of your brain never to be erased, never to be replaced. no matter how hard you try, certain memories will always come back to you— close in on you like a shadow in the night, jolting you from your peaceful present day.

at least, that’s how you feel when you get a call from your hometown about your estranged mother’s sudden death— and all of those painful memories from your childhood you worked so hard to forget, constantly pushing them to the back of your mind come crashing down on you in a giant wave of stinging nostalgia. and you feel as though you're drowning in the weight of them.

as soon as you were old enough, and on the cusp of your eighteenth birthday— you’d abandoned your life in a small town in the south to make it big in the city. you wanted to write, wanted your name on big billboards and your books in every store, so you left it all behind as a naive young woman to follow a man who’d promised you a fruitful career and that all of your wildest dreams would come true. back then, you’d have done anything to get out of that tiny town.

and you did, though just barely breaking into your mid-twenties you made a name for yourself as a best-selling author of fiction books. known far and wide, you thought that your career was your way out, but you’d never thought that you’d be dragged back to the hellhole of your childhood hometown either. the place where people cursed your name instead of cheered it, where you were an outsider instead of someone to be loved.

the memories of your bitter mother and piece of shit father ( who’d abandoned you all very early on ) sit at the forefront of your mind as you make the long drive to your old southern home— you would only go back to sell your dead mother’s house, see to her funeral arrangements and be back to your new, better life in the city within the week. you couldn’t possibly stay any longer, you refused to.

except, the words of your publicist, mina ashido, serve as a haunting reminder that your plan isn’t just a quick in and out.

‘when you go on this trip and go back home, sit in your feelings. talk to the people you used to know! write something. something refreshing that your fans have never seen before.’

you remember the conversation as clear as day, after having received the news of your mother’s passing— your nosey publicist thought it would be a good idea to pester you to consider writing that autobiography. she’d told you that your fans wanted to know the real you, that you were too private for your own good and apparently your science fiction romance novels just weren’t cutting it anymore.

you scoff to yourself, alone in your rented jeep, cruising down mountainous dirt roads with nothing but dust and rocks kicked up by your tires, cold air and the clear sky above to keep you company. “the real me, my ass.” there was a reason that no one knew anything about you prior to who you are now. why your childhood memories were kept safely behind lock and key. no one needed to know the neglect you faced after your elder brother’s death, they could be spared the details on how your mother went bat-shit crazy trying to investigate his accident. what good would it do anyone to know how the town and its people turned against your mother when she couldn’t handle her duties, being too consumed with grief to help those that needed her?

to help you, when you needed her?

everyone in town hated her, and by extension, you.

what good of a story would a life like that make to your readers?

a sign for the town of whiteridge, population 356, comes into view— a little rustier than when you’d left it, and for a moment, you bring your car to a complete stop.

though the darkened memories of your past sink their claws into your mind, you take a deep breath and push forward— facing the demons that taunted you throughout your childhood, making them your bitch in your adulthood.

as it turns out, funerals are much harder to plan than expected.

the town’s coroner had already picked the date for said celebration of life ( a good riddance for you ), which settled on the day after you had arrived in lovely old whiteridge. there was much to organise in such little time.

dealing with the funeral director had been exhausting, picking colours and flower arrangements and headstone designs— you end up throwing a wad of cash at the coroner, too tired to deal with the matter or to care. you doubt that your mother would have spared enough of her attention to do the same for you if you’d swapped places with one another. in the end, you put down enough money to cover twice the budget for the funeral and after party and whatever wages will be needed by any staff involved at the director with a polite, yet strained smile.

whatever you need to give to put your mother in the ground and bury your past with her— you’ll give.

after more discussion, you come to find that the only condition the woman who raised you had for her death was that any celebration in her honour was to take place in your childhood home— the one with creaky floorboards and wailing walls that accompanied the symphony of your mother’s sobs each night. the funeral director had told you that, and again, you agreed to the condition without a care, paying off the decorators with your hard earned money ( not what your mother had left you or what was kept for her funeral arrangements ), telling them to get it sorted for the following day.

you couldn’t bear to deal with the house yourself, at least not yet, and decide to put yourself up in the town’s nicest hotel for one last night of peace.

the hotel is on the far side of whiteridge, by the town centre surrounded by warm looking diner’s and old rickety antique shops you remember being coated in fresh licks of paint as a child. the owners are a sweet couple, who sign you up to their cosiest room right away— the taller, momo, desperately trying to hold back on asking for your autograph while her partner, jirou, looks for your set of keys in the back behind their reception desk.

eyeing momo— taking in her round, soft cheeks, her gentle obsidian eyes and silken dark locks, you wonder how she ever survived a place like this looking so kind and hopeful and make a mental note to buy an extra copy of your latest novel from the gift shop later on, so you can leave her with a signed copy as a thank you for being so hospitable throughout your stay.

a mop of purple hair returns from the darkness, each one of jirou’s steps jingling with the set of keys dedicated to your space for the night. “you’ll wanna head ta room 205, it’s up the stairs ‘n to the right,” she explains nonchalantly, her southern twang ringing in your ears as she twirls the keychain over her perfectly manicured finger before pushing the set of keys across the desk towards you. “checkout is at noon, breakfast is served by sato from eight am sharp ‘till then.”

her hands settle onto her hips afterwards, returning to momo’s side— the picture perfect painting of a happy couple residing in this fucked up world. with a smile that barely reaches your eyes, you take the keys graciously and slip them into your coat pocket— fiddling with them before you speak. “is it possible for me to get a later checkout, or leave my luggage somewhere safe?” casting your gaze around the hotel’s reception, you click your tongue before looking back at the pair with a smirk. “got a funeral first thing tomorrow morning,”

both women soften at your words, but your grin remains— not faltering at the expression of sympathy that flashes across their features. “oh goodness! of course! we can keep your bags locked up back here until you’re ready to get them,” the words rush out of momo, quick to correct their blunder before she elbow’s jirou— who gazes up at her in a gleeful mix of shock and irritation.

it makes you laugh, how natural they are with one another— like a married couple with their own special ticks and love language. nothing like what you saw around whiteridge growing up. they fuel a small fire of inspiration in the back of your mind, characters for your next book forming from nothing in your imagination but then you suddenly remember that you have an autobiography to write while being here— not a means to escape reality. your face sags at the thought.

“‘m sorry for your loss,” jirou hums quietly. “may i ask who it was?”

adjusting your posture, your hand forms a fist around the keys in your pocket— the cool silver metal cutting into the soft skin of your palm.

“my mother,” you give her name, letting out an amused chuff as recognition takes its place on the couple’s faces. you shrug next. “and don’t be.” bringing a single finger to your lips, you make them wordlessly promise not to say anything. not to leak your little secret to anyone outside of this town.

the world beyond whiteridge knows nothing of your family and the person you were before you left your town. not only that, but ashido would quite literally kick the bucket too if she found out your mother’s death had spread to the wider internet. it was a secret, the goldmine and key to your autobiography’s success. the chilly outside calls to you through a blue and red stained glass window— the yellow street lamps just shining through, accompanied by happy shouts from residents in the town. the sights and sounds lure you out of your own stuffy thoughts and taunting memories. you feel like you’re holding your breath, that you’re suffocating in the pressures of trying to live up to and prove yourself to your mom even though she’s stone cold and long gone.

twirling on your feet, you face the happy couple and plant your hands on the front desk eagerly. “i’m dying for a drink,” you blurt out brightly and try not to laugh at your awful choice of words. the tone of your voice carries something much more chipper to what it was mere seconds ago— shocking the hotel owners standing before you. “any recommendations? i haven't been to whiteridge in years!”

jirou hesitantly lifts her finger to the window that had beckoned to you earlier— seemingly pointing to a busy joint just across the street. “liquid gold bar, s’owned by a friend of mine. used to be the town’s chapel ‘fore it got burned down a few years back by a couple of highschool grads,” she says fondly, as if remembering something happy. “i may or may not have been one of ‘em. they’ve moved further out now. but if ya do go to the bar, tell kaminari we said hello.”

you both share a wicked grin at the story— laughing between each other while momo only scolds her partner lightly. they can’t be much older than yourself, meaning the chapel had burned down just after you’d finished highschool as well. ironic, you think.

“they do a great roast as well! if you’re hungry for dinner while you’re over there!” the ravenette beside jirou chips in, offering you a warm smile.

thanking them both, you muster up a genuine smile of your own before asking for a pen and some paper— which momo is quick to shove at you. satisfaction flits through your body as your signature glides easily across the bit of scrap that she’d given you ( which you’re pretty sure is a receipt for their maintenance bill ). you step back after pushing it across towards her, nodding in acknowledgement.

“thank you both for your help. i’ll be sure to find a copy of one of my books so i can give you a proper signature as thanks. have a great night.”

you take your leave after that, gathering your bags and suitcase in your arms as you trot up the stairs. you can hear the excited squeal and kisses that follow your departure, momo blabbing on about your parting gift, her fondness of your works accompanied by jirou’s gentle and exasperated ‘i know, momo’ and ‘calm down or i’ll kiss you!'. you can only grin once you reach the landing, glad that at least some positivity has manifested in this wretched town.

the atmosphere of liquid gold is buzzing.

after setting up in your room, showering and switching into something clean and comfortable— you head over to the bar and restaurant per jirou and momo’s recommendation. upon entering the establishment, you can already feel the life burning bright in every single corner of the room. it’s not busy, but people from every walk of life, people you don’t recognise from your awful childhood seem to be having fun. you feel safe here, free from the tendrils of trauma whiteridge usually had clinging to you.

you arrive at the bar in a few short strides, tugging the sleeves of your old woollen sweater over your hands, not bothering to flag down the bartender as you enjoy the animated and rustling atmosphere you’re currently surrounded in.

“yer not from around here, are ya?” an electric blonde appears before you, startling you from the peace and quiet of your mind. he notices you jump, a smile breaking out across his chirpy looking face as he pours you a shot of brown liquor and passes it to you.

folding your arms against the top of the bar, you quirk a brow before knocking back the shot with ease— the alcohol leaving a comfortable burn in the back of your throat. one that doesn’t hurt to feel, like the burn of hearing your mother’s name again when the solicitor called to tell you the news of her death. “what makes you say that?” slamming the glass down against the smooth sweet-cherry countertop, you lick your lips, and hum at the taste of dark rum coating them.

the chipper blonde gives you a look from his place behind the bar, amber orbs dragging up and down your frame as he gestures to…well, all of you. “for starters, you’re at the hottest spot in town dressed like yer about to join a seniors knitting class!” he starts, topping you up with another shot as you lean over to get a better look at him. he’s pretty, with wild hair and bright eyes and a cheeky aura about him— someone way too positive for a town that haunts your nightmares. “and second, yer just too pretty for a town like this.”

scoffing, you roll your eyes and look away. “could say the same about you,” you say to yourself— a little too quiet for him to hear before downing your second shot of the night. “thanks, but i was actually born at the hospital just up the street.”

“no kiddin’! me too!” the blonde seems giddy at the news that you, a stranger, has shared with him.

“aren’t we all…” you mumble back, blinking slow as the alcohol steadily begins to simmer through your body in the heat of the blood flowing in your veins.

“you don’t have the accent either,” he comments.

“skipped town at eighteen ‘n dropped it t’get where i needed to be in the industry i work in.” you fire back, locking your gaze with the bartender who seems thoroughly impressed by your ability to bring back the southern twang on command.

“i hear that,” the bartender looks you over, gesturing to the bottles of water behind him in concern and nods when you shake your head, gripping the bar. he’s fast to set you up with a third shot of rum, hesitant to give it to you. “so what brings ya back? tourism can’t be it.”

you swallow the rum, satisfied with how it calms your raging mind and temporarily eats up any anxieties you might have about the funeral tomorrow.

“dead mother.”

your companion reaches under the bar with a handful of black polished nails to grab a bigger glass for you— pouring you a heavier drink and a shot for himself. “bummer…” he laughs, as if understanding why you’re drinking tonight and lifts his shot glass to cheers with you. you share his laughter, already feeling lighter and clink your glass against his. “‘m denki kaminari, the owner of this joint, so if ya need anything, just holler at me, okay?”

with that, denki backs off to go tend to his other customers and gives you a sweet salute as you wave him off. “i-i will!” you hiccup cheerily. “oh! jirou and momo say hi!”

tapping your nails against the cool surface of your glass, you try not to think about the loneliness creeping up on you and the dread you have for the funeral. though, you’re somewhat relieved to let go of the woman who took away your childhood and failed to raise you in favour of digging deep into your older brother’s accident, in turn letting you be swallowed by the hate from the people in town. there was dread— fear for confronting your demons, the townspeople who failed you and the alcohol could only numb that for such little time.

“can i get a drink, please?” someone rasps and the sound of a chair scraping against the floor next to you pulls you from your thoughts for the second time that night— but you don’t bother to look up, wanting to be alone. and like denki had said, you’re pretty. it’s not uncommon for you to get hit on in a place like this.

tracing the rim of your glass, an irritated sigh leaves your lips as you take another sip of the dark liquid filling it. “before you ask, i’m not interested, but thanks anyway,” you reply smoothly, voice lowered by the alcohol clinging to the ridges of your throat.

the voice speaks pipes up again, this time sounding as though it’s directed at you. “‘nd i wasn’t fuckin’ talkin’ to you, sweetheart,” only then do you spare a glance at the person speaking— his voice husky, lower than yours and filtering through your ears like liquid gold honey. “but thanks for the clarification anyways.”

oh fuck.

you pause, meeting a pair of narrowed ruby red eyes, deep and enticing— calling to you like riches call to a man of greed. once you look up, you can’t tear your own eyes away, pulled into the trance of the handsome man before you. his hair looks like it’s been touched by only the brightest days of sunlight, a soft pale blonde that just barely covers his eyes. his skin is golden despite the cool and bone chilling weather outside— dotted with honeycomb freckles that remind you of stars in the sky. his lashes are long, long enough to make you insanely jealous of how pretty they are and your mind dares you to think about how soft they must feel when brushing against your skin.

you can tell that the man is strapping from the way his arms bulge and how broad his chest is, barely hidden by the fabric of his black turtleneck that stretches over his bulky frame. he seems familiar, but blurred from your memory— as if you knew him but weren’t supposed to.

he also looks like he was made by the gods.

like he’s the love interest that's walked straight out of one of your most famous books.

“don’t they teach you outsiders that it’s rude t’fuckin’ stare?” the stranger asks, a brow raised into his hairline as he accepts a drink from an amused denki.

shaking your head in surprise at being called out, you splutter out a response. “an outsider?”

“yer clearly not from around here.”

“you’re the second person who’s told me that tonight. what’s your reason?”

raising his drink to you, ice clinking against the sides of the glass, he utters simply. “firstly, ya don’t have an accent, sweetheart.”

rolling your eyes again, you swivel in your seat to fully face the handsome and apparently— all knowing, yet unknown person with an unimpressed glare. “let me guess,” leaning an elbow on the bar top, you bat your lashes at him and push your arms together to mockingly accentuate your chest. “i’m too pretty to be from ‘round here too.” you add in a faux dumb tone, scoffing when he falls for your trick to take a glance at your tits from over your sweater. “unbelievable.”

“was gonna say ya just give off the vibe that yer uptight, but that too.”

“uptight?” you gasp incredulously and if looks could kill, this man would be six feet under. “you don’t even know me.”

“know enough to know you don’t give a fuck ‘bout yer mom dyin’ or… at least you pretend not to. yeah i heard that.” he mumbles and takes a sip of his cool beverage, swirling it around the tempered glass before locking eyes with you again. “but then again, who am i ta judge? if she was from this shitty town, then that old hag was probably a pain in the fuckin’ ass jus’ like the rest of ‘em, hah?”

he looks to you as if reading your face, but you don’t have it in you to tell him that he’s wrong— so you laugh and raise your half empty glass to him. “right on the money…” you trail off, hoping to get his name.

“bakugou.”

“bakugou…” you repeat his last name, playing with the taste of it on your tongue, happy with it. “the people in this place are fake as shit.”

he grins in response. “they’re all bullshit, i’d rather avoid these fuckers as if they had the plague.”

you grin back. “cheers to that then.”

“cheers to bein’ the only sane people in this god-awful town,” bakugou holds his glass up to yours, cheers-ing with you before you both down your drinks in one smooth shot. when he looks back at you, you softly give him your own name, buzzing with newfound confidence as the alcohol once again takes up residence in your bloodstream.

“can i get’cha another drink, bakugou?” you ask, flagging denki over with a wave of your dainty fingers. “my tab’s already open.”

“i won’t say no t’that, sweetheart. start me off easy, yeah? don’t wanna get too drunk before i get ta know ya.”

now, that shocks you. someone interested in you for more than just your books and your money, someone who seems not to know you like the rest of the world does…or even this town. you tilt your head, intrigued by bakugou and speak softly to him again. “you wanna get to know me?”

“no one hates this place as much as i do, people like us gotta stick together.” the pale blonde with the dauntingly beautiful vermillion stare; smirks— exposing a row of sharpened pearly whites that make your heart stutter in its place residing in your chest. “’sides, i meant what i said earlier. i think yer pretty.” his smirk turns dopey, a coy smile crossing his perfectly slanted lips, sending your brain into some kind of frenzy. bakugou leans in real close, having turned to face you fully as well, and lets his hand slide over your jean clad knee— further and further until it settles on the swell of your thigh, giving it a hearty squeeze.

walking your fingers up bakugou’s own thigh, you drop your tone into a sultry. “yeah? you’re not so bad yourself.” you coo, twirling your fingers through his belt loops and tugging on them shyly. though there aren’t many people in the bar, you feel like the temperature of the room is rising— scorching you from the inside out. maybe it’s his touch, maybe it’s how close you both are, but it’s almost as if bakugou is swallowing you whole, pulling you into his air of mystery.

“not bad, hah? don’t act like i didn’t catch ya starin’, sweetheart.” he responds darkly, cocking his head to the side.

your hands travel upwards, fisting the fabric of his turtleneck as you follow the tilt of bakugou’s head. “god, you have something to say for everything, don’t you?” there’s nothing but an inch of air separating you both, your lips ghosting over one another.

“‘course i do, s’cause i never lose.” he whispers softly, his breath warm and wet against your cupid’s bow before bakugou closes the gap— pressing his lips against yours in a slow, alcohol and lust driven kiss. you briefly seize up, before letting the man lead you further into the dark. bakugou’s tongue drags over the seam of your lips, tasting the rum that’s caught on the chapped skin of them. he groans deep, the sound vibrating through you and straight down to the heat between your thighs— making you uncomfortable in your denim jeans.

you tug him close, desperate for more, for something else— but kaminari comes over, waving his rag about the place until both you and bakugou part.

“hey! hey now! get a room! you’re scaring away the customers!”

“can it, dunce face!” bakugou grumbles at the loss of contact but keeps a hand on your thigh to keep you in place while you calm your breath. “what customers?"

“um, rude!”

“‘nd s’not even like that anyways,” the lighter blonde continues, grabbing his coat and subsequently pulling his hand from your thigh— making you whimper at the loss of his warmth.

grabbing onto his sleeve before bakugou can vacate the bar, you pout, giving him your best doe eyes and pleading voice. “it can be…like that if you want.” you say breathlessly, not quite ready for your evening with the handsome stranger to end just yet. “i’ve got a room at the hotel across the street for tonight.”

and then bakugou gives you the same, slow sexy smirk from earlier and steps in between your thighs.

“yeah? then show me the way, princess.”

that’s how you end up slamming bakugou against the door of your hotel room— roughing him up between sloppy, spit swapping kisses. your hands cascade down the blonde’s well built frame, feeling his chiselled and washboard abs from over the thick fabric of his clothing, squeezing the meat of his pecs and tugging on his belt loops— hardly giving the man any room between your sensual lip locks. bakugou groans into your temperate mouth, following each movement of your lips like it’s a perilous siren song calling to him, like he can’t bare to be without your tongue crawling across his, both pink muscles dancing in a salaciously sinful song too debauched to happen between two complete strangers.

his lips feel so good, they’re soft and plump— balmier than you expected them to be for someone who seems so rough on the exterior. they move with calculated precision, not too rough, yet hungry enough to make you feel wanted and elicit a light blaze in your lower stomach, right between the plushness of your thighs. though you’re the one who has bakugou pinned against the maple wood door behind you, he’s the one that controls the flame of your desire— poking at it until it roars bright and orange, scalding you from the inside out as he pushes a thick, muscled thigh between your legs and making sure it’s snug against your clothed cunt through your jeans.

though he kisses you in a way you’d described as unhurried, cushiony and ductile, bakugou’s hands cup the maturing curve of your face between calloused fingers to tilt it upwards so he can pour more of his passion into you— enough to fill you to the brim as though to replace your soul with his own and leave you with a piece of him. his fingertips feel scarred with memories not quite sure you want to know the history of, fluidly sinking downwards until they cup the scope of your neck, dragging against your smooth unmarred flesh before finding purchase in your pesky clothes— tugging you closer to him to kiss you more, tease you more with his thigh grinding painfully slow into your aroused core.

you can’t be any closer to a man you’ve only just met, noses becoming neighbours with how frequently they bump against one another between your sticky lip locks and the blaze in the base of two sets of lungs whenever either of you come up for air. your chests expand with every ragged breath you take and the more your lips touch and tongues glide over chapped surfaces before meeting in the middle. alcohol clouds your judgement, should you really be doing this? your dread and fear of the day to come simmering on the stove into something more raunchy and taboo— a one night stand the day before your mother is due to meet the ground and possibly her maker. maybe you’re a little sick for that.

bakugou’s tongue feels like a new weight in your mouth, damn near down your throat but in a sexy way— drooling against your own, his spit shining against your chin as your makeout becomes nastier, sloppier and his thigh tenses up beneath every swirl of your hips down on him. there’s some sort of hunger, a growing and untamed appetite you have for one another, showing only the worst intentions for the rest of your night.

“fuckin’…take it off—“ bakugou grunts, restless and hot under his collar. his pupils dilate until they’re filled with a menacing shade of obsidian black that’s diluted with the red in his eye. you can tell that he wants you, his touch searing straight through the layers of thick winter clothes you have on, scorching the mark of his fingertips against the fat at your hips while he plays with a loose thread on your sweater. “wanna fuckin’ see what’cha hidin’ sweetheart,” he adds in a disguised plea, letting you pull back only slightly so you can shrug of the top layer of clothing until you’re bare to the predator’s stare. admiring the view, bakugou drags a digit up the softness of your tummy, pinging your laced bra against your skin once he reaches the valley between your breasts and exhaling deep at the sight of them bouncing for him.

a muscled arm circles your waist until you’re flush against bakugou’s bulky frame, hearts beating in sync, eyes fluttering across one another’s features illuminated by the shy sparkle of the moon peeking through the curtains and right into your room. bakugou’s skin sparkles under the silver light. his mouth is on yours again within a matter of seconds, a light blush panting his cheeks and the bridge if your nose all the while, his tongue licks into your mouth with insatiable wanton, the tip of it curling around the strings of saliva that connect the roof of your mouth to the pink muscle below.

it’s all to sedate himself, satisfy his raging ravenousness while the sweetness of your mouth drips onto his palette, making him go cross eyed and a throaty moan echo between you both.

all this from kissing a woman he just met— from kissing you.

the situation is insanely absurd, not even close to bakugou’s regular style, but he can’t help but feel enticed by the way you nip at his bottom lip and run your fingers through his blonde locks from their roots to their ends, fisting them when he lets out a breathless chuckle against your open mouth and flexes his thigh against your jean-clad pussy once again. it’s only then that you seize the opportunity— pushing the stronger, well-built man up against the door once more with some force before you quickly sink to your knees beneath him. your eyes shimmer, your mind clouded over and your lips wet and parted— you’re a fallen angel for sure, a walking temptation for bakugou himself.

he’s not a man strong enough to resist.

the descent upon bakugou’s body, one seemingly built by the highest of gods and carved out of ingenious rock, had been too quick for him to notice. and now, the sight of you on your knees for him has him embarrassingly hot all over. he’s burning bright like molten lava as you make quick work of his snake-skin looking belt and push his jeans down with his boxers in one swift motion. your fingers twirl the soft tufts of blonde hair forming a happy trail, lips twisted into a giddy, wet smile as it leads you down to his cock.

you press scorching kisses to bakugou’s pelvis, tracing your name against his golden skin with the tip of your tongue and grab at his tight ass with your eager hands, nails digging into the flesh until he snarls down at you.

“fuckin’ hell sweetheart,” he laughs through the thickness of ardour caught in the ridges of his throat. “fuck me, yer an animal.” bakugou manages through stuttered breaths. he runs a hand through his mussed and sweaty locks, staring down at you with a wolfish grin as he does so.

mirroring his expression, you toy with the elastic waistband of his boxers and hum in content when his entire body tenses up. “what? did you think i was just gonna roll over and take it? you must not know girls from the city.”

you can barely remember the journey back up to your room, both of you taking staggered and exaggerated steps across the slippery cobblestone surface of the whiteridge plaza, fuelled by sex crazed hormones and the thirty-five percent alcohol drinks pumping through your systems. the pair of you had stumbled up the stairs, curious hands slipping between layers of clothes and laughter. the sight of bakugou trembling above you makes the judgemental stares jirou and momo had given you completely worth it.

you’d failed to notice that their sights were set on the blonde and not you.

after making yourself comfortable—your tongue twists at his skin just above the button of his jeans, tasting the salt on him, sucking a cute little pink mark there so bakugou leaves here tonight with the memory of you and the best head he’ll ever get in his life. you’re almost ashamed to admit how fast your thighs squish and squeeze together as you peel back the fabric and reveal bakugou’s cock to your greedy gaze— you drink in the sight of him, heavy as his length thuds against his tummy due to the weight of it. his tip shines under the moonlight with a thin layer of white which only indicates just how turned on the blonde stranger is.

the rest of him is thick— mouthwatering— and you can feel saliva pooling on the palette of your tongue as you run your fingertips up the blue-ish, purple-ish forked veins that prettily decorate the man’s shaft and his balls sit heavy with cum.

the drooling only gets worse when you take hold of bakugou’s cock, feeling it twitch to life beneath your fingertips— your hand dwarfed by his size. you can only imagine the deliciousness of the stretch you’ll experience when he takes you later, you don’t think you can wait either.

“c’mon princess,” bakugou grumbles, his voice carnivorous and eyes intense as you squeeze him lightly between smaller-than-his fingers. his broad chest rises and falls rapidly, face twisting in a salacious mix of pain and pleasure with every teasing pump you give his cock. “f-fuckin’ put that pretty mouth t’good use, yeah? since ya got s’much to— fuck… t’fuckin’ say…” your thumb just grazes the leaky slit running across the centre of his bulbous, blistering tip, and the plumpness of your lips trace over each pulsating vein that’s wrapped carefully around his length as if they’re a perfect bow on the perfect present just for you. “open wide, sweetheart.”

you hardly know this man, but in the time you’ve spent together it’s easy to tell that he’s far from a patient one. bakugou is a go getter, he gets what he wants, when he wants and by whatever means— so he thrusts up, hurting his gooey-cockhead against the seam of your lips, glossing them up with a salty-sweet layer of precum. he flinches at the contact and his head falls back against the door with a dull thump, bakugou fighting back a timbre moan when your grip on him tightens and you palm starts to stroke him at a steady pace— slickening up the centre of your hand.

experimentally, you kitten lick his tip and your own eyes flutter at the taste of him— it’s addictive, drugging you up with an agonisingly amatory desire. “no one’s ever made you wait, have they?” you ask, voice dripping dangerously with arousal before taking bakugou deep into the wet cavern of your mouth— the spark residing in his blood red eyes tells you that you’re right, but you have little time to focus on his answer now that you have the heavy weight of his cock sitting against your writhing pink tongue. your own eyes flutter at the feeling, drool pooling in your mouth like an erotically hot flash flood. you’re completely full, feeling as if the blonde is halfway down your throat already— and that very idea only makes you crave more.

you want all of what bakugou has to offer, content with how he pushes further into your mouth until his balls sit on your chin and precum oozes in thick waves against your tastebuds. “oh fuck…yer tight. shit, sweetheart,” he curses from above you, his brawny arm thrown over his face as it burns bright with heat— bakugou draws his hips back while panting, hands fisted at his sides as he barely escapes the clutches of your needy little mouth so he can give you room to breathe. he swears he might cum when he hears you gargling. “can’t wait to see ya fuckin’ cry fer this cock. g’nna make y’such a pretty mess…”

missing his dick inside your mouth, you lean forward, pawing at his spit-slicked erection like a desperate little puppy— flicking your wrist in quick movements as you glare up at him. “then stop interruptin’ me and let me suck yer fuckin’ cock.” you say breathlessly, with a twinge of your old accent before sucking your one night-stand down again. his angry, sticky cockhead bulges against the inside of your cheek, sensitive slit rubbing along the soft epidermis there, only making him shudder until his back and slender waist arch away from the door.

bobbing your head, you waste no time in working up a pace fast enough to have the blonde above you melting like putty in your hands— you fist what doesn’t fit, the movement of your soft palms guided by the copious amounts of precum that leaks onto your tongue, that you spit out onto bakugou’s shaft only to slurp back up and repeat the process.

you breathe harshly through your nose, hollowing your cheeks as your nails sink deep into bakugou’s toned, beefy and jean-covered thighs to steady yourself before the plunge— they twitch beneath your grip and his hands slowly make their way to the back of your head. with erogenous doe eyes full of delirium you push down on the blonde’s cock, letting it hit the back of your throat while you’re forced to gag on him— nose pressed into the fluff of his happy trail.

“that’s it pretty girl, so fuckin’ pretty takin’ me like this, look s’good with my dick down that slutty throat,” bakugou drawls, his accent layered thick on top of his praise makes your own essence soak the crotch of your panties, makes your head dizzy too— though that may be because of the lack of oxygen you’re getting, struggling to breathe around the fat cock plugging your drooling mouth.

both of you keep still, letting your jaw go slack around him. one second you’re nursing on his precum, giggling around him and the next bakugou is fucking your throat until it bulges, using it as his own personal fleshlight. a frothy mix of spit and pre dribbles down your chin— his balls slapping against them with every weighty thrust of the blonde’s hips.

you grip those same swollen balls, rolling them between your soft fingers, breaking bakugou’s mind. all the while, he throws his head back, deep and throaty whimpers escaping his lips that he has caught between a row of pearly white teeth.

bakugou’s hips roll languidly into the addictive heat of your mouth, dopamine sparking in small explosions across his brain. he thrusts again, and again, and again— his pupils dilated like a rabid animal while his gaze hones in on the way your tight little throat takes him over and over. he doesn’t know how he’ll cope after tonight, if he’ll be able to survive without your greedy mouth happily sucking on his dick.

sweat beads in fat droplets against bakugou’s hairline, soaking through his sweater before he lets you go to breathe— watching you slowly pull off his cock with arousal glossed lips, coughing as oxygen fills your lungs and your chest heaves. “what’s the matter?” you chuckle once you’ve regained composure, going back to making out with the sloppy tip of bakugou’s girth. “can’t keep up?”

your hook-up laughs back, using the hem of his shirt to wipe his brow before shrugging it off. within seconds, he’s cupping the roundness of your face and his rough thumbs are digging deep into your soft cheeks.

“oh. i could go all fuckin’ night, sweetheart, whether you make me cum or not, ‘m gonna make sure i fuck that dirty lil’pussy ‘till you forget how t’walk.”

bakugou slurs in his heavy southern accent like it’s a promise, grabbing your tiny hand ( at least compared to his calloused one ) and guiding it into a fist around his achey, creamy cock. staying haunched over you, he finds your lips— tugging the bottom one away from you with his teeth before capturing you fully in a searing, messy kiss. he simpers at the taste of himself on you, mixed with the sweat sitting on your cupid’s bow.

he laps at your mouth, cupping the back of your head to deepen the lip lock— both of you moaning like fools into one another’s mouths and swallowing your raunchy song of laments and whines. the tune is only accompanied by the slick, dewy sounds of your hand jerking bakugou off. his hips continue to ram forward, never letting up their aberrant and urgent rhythm— fuelled by your hook-up’s innate need to cum.

“shit— ‘m right there… ‘m right fuckin’ there, sweetheart,” he pants against your tongue avidly, losing pieces of himself to you as you palm him faster and faster— the lewd mix of your drool and his arousal slinging from his cockhead to your knuckles. “gonna fuckin’ cum… g-g’nna fuckin’ cum!”

you work at him for a few seconds longer, kissing his red-hot tip every time it peeks through your closed fist and using your other hand to circle the seat of your palm against it, too.

he leaks ungodly amounts of arousal the closer you take him to orgasm, the world seconds away from crumbling around bakugou’s crimson gaze. “gimme that cum,” you say lowly, voice dipping. “want all of it.” you command, causing the dam to break and bakugou to finally hit his high. strings of his hot, viscous seed spurt from his sore, ravaged cock, painting your tongue, face and chest in his possessive shade of white.

“holy…holy fuckin’—shit!” bakugou cries out, and you don’t slow your fist around him until he’s done cumming, catching any smaller spurts of his orgasm with your eager tongue— looking up at your hook up with a smile as bright as the moon when he finally stops trembling and starts coming back down to earth.

though there’s static ringing in his ears and bakugou’s legs are beyond weak thanks to the life shattering head you’d given him— he still finds the strength within himself to haul you up from your knees and push you back until you hit the plush bed on the other side of the room. you squeal, bouncing in the sheets and pillows, but can’t help the streak of excitement that runs through you when you catch the darkened expression on bakugou’s handsome features as he looks down at you splayed out for him.

“t-take…take off those fuckin’ jeans ‘n let me get at that cunt, s’my turn now, sweetheart.”

you do as you’re told, unbuttoning the denim that suddenly feels a little too tight around your waist and kick your jeans off before bakugou cages you in against the bed— two sturdy arms stay planted firmly either side of your head.

the scent of flowers mixed with cotton that was embedded into the sheets is quickly replaced with the heavy musk of sex and caramel, which radiates off of bakugou in strong waves as he swoops down for another kiss. it’s softer than before, more fluid as his hot fingertips push their limits and explore what hides beneath the underwire of your bra. the blonde gropes at your plush mounds of flesh, twisting a nipple between a thumb and forefinger and leaves a trail of burning kisses down your neck— chuckling darkly at your shoulder when a feather-light gasp escapes you.

“b-bakugou,” you murmur needily, arching your back on instinct while he moves to unclip your bra with practised ease. “bakugou, please.” you add, all other logical words wasted on you as he encapsulates your pebbled nipple in his mouth and runs his tongue over it in smooth, wet circles. the mattress dips beside you from where bakugou’s shifted his weight to lie on his side to your right. tufts of sand blonde hair tickle your skin only causing goosebumps to rise against it in a ripple effect.

“hmm?” comes his lazy reply, the man still lapping at your heaving chest, all while sucking pretty marks against your tits that you know will feel tender to the touch in the morning. he only looks up at you when he switches, leaving one fleshy mound covered in saliva in favour for tending to the other. “try moanin’ my name. that’ll get my attention, sweetheart.” bakugou knows exactly what you want, what you crave for next— leaving you teetering on the edge of insanity with his hand smoothing over your tummy. it’s destination beyond the little bow on the hem of your mismatched panties.

pouting, you let your hips rise from the sheets only to have them forcibly pushed back down. “you’ve told me your name,” you say in an exasperated cry that has built up in the back of your throat. “it’s baku—“

“katsuki…s’katsuki when yer moanin’ pretty f’me, baby.” bakugou— katsuki— cuts you off, pressing his thumb into the crotch of your underwear to get a feel for how wet you are. “fuck, yer soaked. y’get this wet from suckin’ a stranger's cock, hah?” you almost hate that him teasing you only serves to turn you on more, your tight little hole gushing and clenching around nothing. the blonde grins at the whimpers you let out through gritted teeth, carefully tracing the letters of his name into your swelling clit.

reaching down, you grip katsuki’s wrist to keep him in place, locked between your thighs— as if he might choose to pull away from your honeyed cunt at your next words. “f-fuck you.”

“fuck me, baby?” he coos to you condescendingly, his teeth sinking into the shell of your ear. “don’t think yer pussy can handle that just yet, need’a stretch her open first.” the blonde pulls your trembling, doughy thighs apart until his palm can fully cup your sex— already so sticky and warm for him even through the thin layer of fabric. bakugou growls in satisfaction, yanking your panties to the side and watching with perverted crimson eyes as your slick ties the material to your dripping mound.

“please katsuki!” you try again, wailing like a petulant child for something…anything to relieve you of the unbearable heat twisting knots of ecstasy in your lower belly.

he tsks in response, pushing his lips into mocking pout as if to console a baby. “a’ight, a’ight…calm down sweetheart. y’want my fingers? wanna feel good?” the blonde says airily as he eases a single finger past your fluttering entrance, curling it immediately against your molten ichorous insides. lust lodges itself into your throat, a silent scream on the seam of your lips while you reach out for something to hold, to bring you back down from cloud nine.

your fingernails take residence in the pure white sheets beneath your writhing body and with your other hand, make a home for themselves in katsuki’s bulging biceps as he starts to finger you. they break crescent moons against sunshine skin, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to leave a reminder of your night with him.

he pushes in another digit alongside the first, slipping into you with a little resistance from just how thick they are. marvelling at the sensation of you rippling around him, of how hot your inner walls feel, bakugou curls his fingers once again— causing lewd, squelching sounds to reverberate in the air between your sweat-slicked bodies.

his dull fingertips brush against pleasure spots inside you that you didn’t even know existed, silver tears blessed by the moon starting to clump in your lashes, threatening to spill over at any moment.

“yer so fuckin’ sensitive,” your hook up muses outloud ruthlessly. he forgets that he’s being mean, too entranced by the way your cute little sex sucks him in— tries so hard to stop his fingers from pulling out. “this fucked up from grindin’ against my thigh? from a couple of fingers? ‘ve barely even touched ya.” he’s forced to grind the seat of his palm against your puffy clit, helping your tight hole ease up just enough for him to pull his fingers back with your sweet juices running down his wrist before he pumps them forward— sending you into a fit of squeals.

your brain actually lags, failing to register katsuki’s rapid and ravaging movements between your thighs that send your manuka honey mess flying up his arm and across your skin. he has your eyes rolling back into the abyss of your skull, your legs locking around his wrist and trapping him in place so that he can send you to the high heavens of electrifying pleasure over and over again.

he’s reduced you to a puddle against the bed, all moans and hiccuped sobs and begs for mercy. you can’t breathe, can’t feel anything as bakugou continues his erotic assault on your ravaged pussy— searching for that one spot inside you that he knows will shut your brain off for good. “d’awh, that’s it baby, look at that pretty pussy— she likes gettin’ finger fucked like this. i can fuckin’ tell,” he rambles, a man lost in the sight of your arousal spewing out of your spasming hole in small streams every time he thrusts his fingers into you. “you spread your legs like this fer every man you meet?”

shaking your head, you can’t help the pathetic yowl that tumbles from your cherry-bitten lips when katsuki pins your hips to the ruined duvet— stopping you from chasing the blinding ecstasy he dangles in front of you like a carrot for a working horse.

“n-nuh..n-no.”

“no?” your hook up smiles, pearly whites on display. you’re so cute underneath him, letting him stroke your enticing, sopping insides into the shape of him— preparing you to take him later on. the way you twitch and stir against the sheets with your mouth so full of saliva and your tongue rolling out over the plumpness of your lips. you’re such a fucking mess, but it pleases katsuki to no end. to have a stranger this fucked up and all for him.

“just the ones with blonde hair ‘n red eyes that say just what’cha like to hear, hah?” your feedback is nonexistent aside from your useless babbles that katsuki swallows, losing his battle in the urge to kiss you once again. he burns right through you, frying your nerve endings and neurons carrying logical thought across your brain.

instead, katsuki fills you like an overflowing glass with pure, unadulterated bliss— forcing it into your bloodstream like alcohol, poisoning your veins with a slow stack of pleasure. building the stairs to your high. letting your lips go, he leans down to spit onto your pulsing mound, rubbing the frothy mix of your shared saliva into your budding pleasure nub, making you open up for him like a blooming flower even though it’s the middle of winter.

your mind is still blank when the blonde speaks again, only grabbing your attention with a sharp slap to the cunt. “can’t even fuckin’ answer me that’s how much of a messy slut you are.” katsuki snarls mean, but angles his hand just right to press sweetly against your g-spot, grinning when your face crumples at the new pressure.

“‘m going to cum, katsuki.” you tell him earnestly, squeezing his bicep at the same time your cunt squeezes down on his fingers— practically falling apart on them.

tilting his head to the side, katsuki speeds up the unrelenting pace of his digits thrusting in and out of you— pressing encouraging smooches to your shoulder as he watches you lose the fight to your high. “c’mon then, can feel ya clenchin’ around my fingers. make a mess on ‘em, sweetheart. so i can fuck ya nice ‘n proper after.” and your body follows his raspy command, reaching your orgasm with a high pitched and borderline pornographic moan, squirting hard right up katsuki’s arm and virtually forcing him out of you with how much leaks from your pulsating gushing cunt.

katsuki gives you a second to calm down, nosing at your neck while your breathing slows and you feel ready enough to keep going. “can you take another?” he asks you huskily, slipping his fingers into his mouth with a moan— tasting your nectar on him.

“i thought you said you were g’nna fuck me. good ‘n proper?” you slur, old accent slipping through when you finally open your eyes to look at him. bakugou shines all while smirking down at you, the crown of sweat on his head illuminated by the moonlight— giving him the appearance of an angel. maybe you’ve scored lucky tonight, comforted by the presence of your own angel after the loss of your mother. maybe that’s fucked up too, but you push the thought to the back of your mind— reaching up to soft blonde locks and tug him down for a wet, encouraging kiss.

“a’ight, roll over baby. ass up, i’ll give ya what’cha want.” bakugou grunts smugly, tracing your hips as you roll onto your tummy and tuck your face into the pillows. “you know how fuckin’ gorgeous you are? your body…s’perfect,” he grabs handfuls of your ass, pulling your cheeks apart slowly as threads of your arousal drip between them. “y’want a condom? ‘m clean, but i wanna make sure yer comfortable.”

casting a sultry glance over your shoulder, you debate the choice. while you’re sure katsuki would feel amazing raw, you know for a fact your publicist would chew your head off for possibly getting pregnant and or sick from fucking a stranger before a funeral. so you decide to be smart, for once, and give him a nod.

“gonna need a verbal response, sweetheart.”

rolling your hips back until your ass pushes back against his growing erection. “a condom, please, katsuki.”

he pats your bottom once, watching it jiggle proudly before reaching into his back pocket for a silver packet and shrugging off the rest of his jeans. sharp teeth sink into the curve of your behind, accompanied by sloppy kisses at the dimple of your spine and right up to your shoulder blades. “so you do follow orders…good girl,” he simpers, tearing the condom open with his piercing canines before rolling it onto his pulsing girth in one fluid motion.

it’s not long before bakugou finds himself at your neck again, the knife-like edges of his teeth sinking into your neck while he lets you adjust to the weight of his body caging you in against the sheets. “you ready f’me, baby? ‘m gonna give you my cock now. wanna make sure you can take it.” he interrogates you lightly, searching the sex tainted air in the room for your consent, brushing his lips along your neckline and shoulders patiently.

“y-yeah. can take it, katsuki,” you stutter and rest your head back against his shoulder, bowing your body into his with a pleasingly fuzzy mind. grunting in approval, bakugou uses his knee to part you by the soiled meat of your thighs and spread you open for him again— manhandling you until you’re positioned in a way he likes.

grabbing hold of his dripping dick, katsuki runs his shaft through the length of your quivering pussy lips, grinding it against the heartbeat in your clit and tapping your clenched hole a few times before he whines needily at the sticky and indecent sounds your sexes make when they slot together perfectly.

you’re so wet, oozing at every chance you get, breathing hot and heavy as the blonde slips his mushroomed tip past your tight entrance— he snickers smugly at how well you take him and so fast, clamping down on katsuki as if never to let him go. he rocks his hips experimentally, testing your sensitivity and how badly you want him by fucking you with only the tip at first— taking at you when you whine.

pushing back onto him, pleading with your body for more— you sigh desperately. “don’t tease, bakugou…”

“s’katsuki,” bakugou cups your throat as he corrects you, giving it a reassuring squeeze as his nose nudges the side of your head. “hold on f’me baby, doin’ such a good job. waitin’ to be fucked. have a little patience, will ya?” he rasps, taunting you as he thrusts all the way in, hips flush against your fleshy ass and bottoming out inside the warmth of your crying cunt. he sticks a thumb in your mouth to pacify your cloying cries— letting you suck on it as he pushes your arched back down onto the sheets and relishes in the warmth of your sloppy, syrupy walls wrapped around his painfully bricked up shaft.

and while he loves the feeling— katsuki finds it within himself to pull back from your selfish and darling little hole to set a sensual, deep-hitting tempo, dragging his seedy latex covered tip along your ribbed walls and pleasure spots. he rolls his hips like a rushing river, making sure that they hit so deep you feel him stirring up your guts.

the sheer force of his thrusts already have the headboard bouncing off of the wall, tearing crybaby-like and pitiful yelps from between your cherry-bitten and tear stained lips. katsuki takes rein over your body like a barbarian brute claiming occupied land, ruling over what little thought runs through your mind. your hands take purchase in the poor pillows bellow you— the ones that swallow your gluttonous screams while you’re fucked to the moon and back, stars dotting your tear lined vision.

mind blanking, there’s hardly anything left for you to do except take what you’re given while bakugou takes you from behind— moulding your insides into his shape with every wild and feverish buck of his hips into yours. “f-fuck, katsuki. m-more, need it!” you squeal hungrily, succumbing to his intensity as you throw your sticky ass back onto him in your best attempt to match his rhythm. squeezing around every pulsing vein that decorates his fat, milky cock while it pushes and pulls at your gummy walls with lewd squelches, bakugou nudges your g-spot over and over again. “god, fuck…you’re so deep.”

“yer such a greedy girl, so eager to get fucked by the first man who calls ya pretty.” katsuki moans condescendingly, thrusting his thumb past your lips in perfect harmony with his dick plunging into your tight hole. using his free hand, the blonde grabs at your ass and spreads your slicked up cheeks apart— working himself further into your heat, stretching you open for him and him alone.

“love the way you feel around me, sweetheart, how you suck me in.” the praise relieves any anxiety that rattled through your body before— a lustful haze fogging your mind so you don’t have to think for yourself for once. it’s like bakugou knows the pain whiteridge has caused you, knows what it’s like to be forced away from what you love and written behind his rough touches is a sense of sympathy.

you hate the feeling of sympathy, but crave the numb mind you know that sex with katsuki bakugou can give you— even if that makes you a self-centred brat. “actually you’re the second to have—oh fuck!” you choke on the tail end of your words as bakugou lands a sharp spank against your bottom, a different kind of pain blooming under the skin there. it makes you drip nastily, juices running down bakugou’s length until it practically bathes his balls as they clap against the curve of your ass, heavy and full of a brand new load of cum just for you, ruining the sheets and blankets in turn.

the way he fucks you is hard, pounding you into the mattress which spring’s squeak for dear life. katsuki ravages you like he loves you— though he hardly knows you…but you feel his vulnerability, what you’re sure you’d see in the red hues of his eyes if you were on your back instead.

“‘m always gonna be first, baby,” bakugou growls like a feral animal, pressing his body hotly against yours until his chest is to your sweaty back, hardly peeling away from you. greed, anguish and yearning spark within you both, their explosions compressed between your bodies as they move in sync— skin meeting skin, slapping throughout the hotel room.

“the first person y’think about when you touch yerself after this, first dick you’ll imagine when you’re gettin’ fucked by any person after me—“ the blonde’s voice is tight, stuck on the ridges of his throat as he pounds away at your creamy pussy, just brushing against your cervix in a way that has you howling at the moon. your core locks and unlocks around the curve of his dick, choking precum out of katsuki, fat drops of it beading at his sensitive slit— making him falter for only a second.” r’member sweetheart, i. never. fucking. lose.”

katsuki punctuates each of his words with lunges of his hips forward, practically forcing you up the bed since you wobble weakly on your hands and knees. you’re sure that by now your nails have torn holes in the linen below from how much you’ve gripped and scratched at them— but the amount couldn’t even begin to compare to how much of his precum smears along the inside of the condom, which slides against your wrecked insides, juices drooling down your thighs in a honeyed, viscous and gooey mess each time bakugou jackhammers into you. “you’re s’fuckin’ filthy,” he drawls, red stare laser focused on where your bodies meet. “remind me, sweetheart, who’s makin’ you such a fuckin’ mess?”

“y-you!” you babble brainlessly, somehow finding the strength to reach behind you to grab at straw blonde hair— forcing katsuki back onto his haunches while you bring him down for an uncoordinated kiss. you mewl happily at the taste of salt on his cupid’s bow and shift onto your knees as well. he grins, licking impressed curse words into your mouth as he gets the idea— a singular arm of his curling around the fat at your waist to support you as you bounce back onto his thick cock. “you make me a mess, katsuki, only you.” you mumble against his swollen lips, spewing the lust blown words against his strawberry tongue and memorising the taste of sex in his mouth while he fumbles around your connected bodies to toy with your pleasure nub.

appeased by your hands lost in his hair and your pussy working itself down on him, sucking him in like magic— katsuki rewards you with a pinch to your clit and a barrage of love bites along the column of your throat, grinning wicked at the ocean deep purples and blues begin to blossom underneath your skin. “wanna see you cum f’me like this, stuff you full. y’deserve it, baby. fer grindin’ this cute lil’ cunt down on me.” he wants it, so bad— you can tell by the way he pulses to life inside of you, drives his dick upwards to chase the sweltering heat of your mound and your arousal every time you pull off of him only to slam back down.

bakugou pushes his creamy cock deep, deeper, as far as it can go until your back arches away from the safety of his chest and your lips part in loud, open mouthed moans— all with the hope of sending you over the edge, to make sure he stays true to his word and has you hooked on the way he fucks for weeks and weeks on end. “god, you make me wanna lose it.”

you’ll remember nothing else but the shape of him, once you’re out of this hell hole.

and neither of you can tell who wants that more.

vulnerability trickles into the air, intertwining with the heartache that neither of you dare to voice but anchors you both down to the same shitty town. bakugou changes the angle of his hips, grinding it so that his bulbous cockhead never lets up on that one special spot inside of you— sending shocks of serotonin, dopamine and other happy sex hormones from your brain straight to the tips of your toes. they curl and your fingers clench, pulling on katsuki’s hair so hard that it lulls a desperate bleat out of him while his freehand brushes over your nipples in a weak attempt to drag you towards your high.

his lashes tickle your shoulders as he buries his face against you, praises and curses drenching your skin— alternating between little nips here and there. neither of you seem to care when bakugou breaks skin, your blood on his lips. “a-are you close?” you simper, tears of lust dotting your lashes as he slams his cock into your tight hole over and over again. “‘m sorry…don’t think i can—oh shit— hold it, ka’suki!”

he nods his head at your question, eyes screwed shut while you gush all about the place. “cum f’me, let go. don’t need’ya t’hold on, sweetheart,” he moans to you through gritted teeth, rolling your clit between a finger and thumb, grinding his tip into your pleasure spot. “‘m right behind ya…oh fuck! there we go,” he squeezes your swollen nub once, cooing to you through a chuckle as white flashes behind your eyes and the damn finally breaks— release trickling from your body in clear streams. bakugou swallows the scream of his name that rips through you, holding you tight through the aftershocks of your high before he follows you over the edge.

you’re still twitching when he pulls out of you and shoves you face first into the bed— tearing off the condom to jerk himself off over you, hot stripes of his seed landing against your back, potent and milky before exhaustion settles into his bones and katsuki collapses to the right of you once again.

the pair of you lay there, together in a comfortable silence as you catch your breaths, neither of you having the brain capacity to speak just yet. you roll over to face the blonde stranger, not sure if your night together solicits the comfort you crave after being fucked stupid. “c’mere,” bakugou says tiredly, though his eyes are still closed. “can feel you starin’ at me… ‘nd contrary to your first thoughts on me from the bar, ‘m not entirely an asshole.” he cracks one eye open to look at you expectantly— lifting an arm up so you can snuggle into his chest.

you take the chance before he can change his mind, settling against katsuki sleepily. “you might not be an asshole but you fuck like one,” you laugh into his skin, feeling his chest rise and fall with yours. “which is a good thing, by the way.”

“i’d hope so. i didn’t wreck yer shit only t’get called a terrible fuck.” katsuki smirks. “where’s my thanks, by the way?”

“you can have the free hotel soaps ‘nd first dibs on the shower in the morning, that good enough for you, blondie?” you shoot back, fighting back the sleep beginning to creep up on you.

it’s a fight worth losing though, for bakugou makes sure to pull enough blankets over you both for a good night’s sleep, barely hanging on himself.

“ya got’cha self a deal, sweetheart.” is the last thing you hear him say, before drifting off to sleep.

you wake up the next day with a steady pound against the inside of your skull, the world spinning as if someone has grabbed you by the head and shaken up your brain— like a never ending rollercoaster with enough twists and loops to make you want to spew out your guts. it’s still dark outside, from what you can tell, and winter’s grasp on the early morning sky is as strong as ever, fighting off the sun’s need to rise.

in the inky abyss of your hotel room, you shift around the bed in search for your phone— finding it plugged in and fully charged on the nightstand next to you…though you don’t remember doing so last night. there’s a few emails from mina asking you if you arrived safely, some tweets from fans playfully complaining about the cliffhanger ending of your last book and one message from the funeral director with a few details about today’s plans.

funeral director at 6:29 AM - the procession starts at 8:30 AM sharp! ceremony will last until 3:50 PM taking place at ‘the freedom’ chapel with any celebration taking place at your old residence at—

clicking your phone shut, you don’t bother to read the rest of the text and stare blankly at yourself on its screen. she, your reflection, looks back at you tiredly, mascara clumped in your lashes and panda circles around your eyes— you feel a little greasy, feel exhaustion in your bones like weights have been tied to you only to pull you down.

she did this to you, the person who was supposed to raise you, left you a hollow mess and a void of emotion who couldn’t feel a single thing towards her death except for fear or anxiety.

your mother.

turning on the bedside lamp, you’re immediately met with the sight with a note, orange juice and an array of medications to combat your raging hangover— a piece of bakugou left with you after your whirlwind of a night together. you pop the pills and swallow the juice with a twitch of your face at how bitter it tastes after being so freshly squeezed, and through the clarity of your glass you spot your freshly pressed clothes across the room for the funeral. a simple black, sleek jumpsuit and matching blazer. crisp and hanging from the wardrobe.

a kind gesture from a man you hardly knew, spoke volumes compared to what you’d been shown as a child.

it wasn’t anything close to the love you needed, but it was the kindness that you deserved all along.

you don’t go down for breakfast, with barely two hours to get ready and be on your way. showering off the grit, grime and sex from the night before and slip into your clothes— into someone new. a woman who’s meant to miss her mother and not the woman who had been forced to grow up fast and raise herself. by the time you’re all dressed and ready for the day’s events, you’d only just remembered the note left by your hook up from the night before so you swipe it up from your mess on the bed, tucking it into your designer bag and slide on your red-bottom heels.

“o-oh! you look nice,” momo chirps after you come down from the landing, heels clicking against the trusty wooden flooring of the hotel. her hair is notably slicked back, wearing a form fitting black dress as she checks over her front of the house book. “i love your—“ pulling up your shades with leather gloved hands, you smile bright at the hostess and makes her stutter— red painted lips seeping into your cheeks. “look. you look beautiful.”

you reach the receptionist’s desk in three short strides and clicks, and hum with appreciation. “a girl’s gotta show up and show out at these things, don’t you agree?” you say, and you’re sure she might think you’re insane for the nonchalant front you have up. “where are you headed looking so pretty?”

“the funeral,” jirou responds for her, appearing from the back in the same manner as before, dressed in a similar manner to her partner. “we uh— our parents were invited along.”

momo adds on. “a-and! we thought you could do with the company, since you’re here for your mother’s funeral alone and all. we could even go together! i can't image how hard this must all be!“

“it’s not hard,” you snap without meaning to and your back straightens like a steel rod. though you hadn’t cared enough to think of a guest list, telling the organisers to invite whoever they pleased so long as they got the job done, you didn’t anticipate that they would hand out passes to everyone in town— to everyone who hated you. “and thank you for the offer ladies, but i have a car waiting for me. i’ll send it back later for my luggage.”

turning swiftly on your designer heels, you leave the hostess couple before you can feel a flick of remorse— before they can see even a crack in the foundation of walls you’d spent years building up. because no one deserves to know how much this town and your mother hurt you. no one.

it’s not hard. today will be easy. you tell yourself, buckling yourself into the black expensive car that’ll be parading you around all day— following right behind the hearse, carrying the villain from your childhood inside. with some time alone before being exposed to the fake tears and falsely sympathetic apologies, you dig into your bag for the note from bakugou, thumb trailing over his chicken scratch handwriting on the front of the folded paper.

‘good luck out there tomorrow or break a leg, whatever they say. give this town fucking hell like you did me last night.

— k.bakugou.’

his words bring an eruption of laughter out of you. so like him, though you’re not really sure what him really is. katsuki bakugou is a man you shared a night of passion with, not a friend you’ve known all your life— even if flashes of a face so similar to his resonate with memories of your brother and your childhood. your heart settles then, right there in your chest, no longer battling the anxiety of facing your old home and all its inhabitants.

and maybe, you’re not alone in all this— maybe really you do have an ally here.

you’re not unfamiliar with the concept of death, nor sudden ones either. you have your older brother, izuku to blame for that.

your memories of him had always been fond. you remember luscious curls of evergreen hair and sun-spotted freckles that looked like the constellations he’d point out to you through the bedroom window late at night. his hands were warm, always handling you with care as if you were a wounded baby bird— especially when you’d cried or scraped your knee. you remember how smart he was, nose always buried deep into a book rather than going outside to kick rocks and snap twigs with the other boys his age. you remember loving izuku, chest bursting with adoration and admiration whenever you looked at your brother because he always held the same emotions when his forest eyes were settled on you.

he was only a few years older, but he felt like your platonic soulmate— your twin flame. back then, your mother had always said you were inseparable, when it was just the three of you in your big, old and creaky house on the far side of the town. you were happy then. without your dad who had left you, you were happy. and even then, with only a few years of life under your belt, you knew that izuku would be your person forever.

what a naive and childish wish you’d had.

nothing lasts forever; not every flower on the forest blooms into something brilliant. some things die, outcompeted by others in the quest for survival. you wanted that for izuku— so badly— wanted that for you both together.

one day he was there, and another, he was gone.

izuku midoriya died just shy of his eleventh birthday— in the summer when whiteridge was warm and the golden leaves hadn’t fallen and the rivers hadn’t frozen over yet. for everyone except your mother, his death was an unfortunate accident, a miscalculation and a misstep on your brother’s part. he was smart, but accidents don’t happen to smart people— is what your mother lived by. his death was no mistake to her, and she chased every single lead until she’d chased away everything and everyone in town trying to prove that.

she gave up her duty. she was the town’s main source of produce and other food products, and while she was allowed to feel her pain and, to cry for help like any grieving mother would— loosing her only son and in that process, she’d given up on the town’s people and her job leading the grocers to feed everyone.

even when your dear izuku was put into the ground, his soul could not rest— because your mother was no longer looking out for you. instead, she searched for whatever truth she thought lay behind his death. your only parent neglected you, subjected you to the vicious cruelty to the people in the town who had thought she’d gone mad trying to find something that wasn’t there.

from the moment izuku died, you no longer had a mother or a brother or a family to fall back on. you only had yourself, and what you could do to take care of your inner child. you didn’t have time to grieve, to cry after losing your soulmate because of how much your mother needed someone to keep her alive and eating and drinking and bathing. for years, you were her lifeline; for years, you were her shield and her foundation until you could no longer handle it.

until you had to run away.

so, of course, you’re no stranger to the black mist known as death that had taken the precious light from your only sibling and clouded your mother’s judgement. maybe that’s the sick reason why you feel numb and look as blank as a canvas during the entirety of your mother’s funeral service. it’s beautiful, you suppose— the organ playing while someone blathers on and on about the miracle of life and the woes of death.

but you hate the entirety of it— how people speak of the woman who failed at raising you as if they knew her personally. you’re surrounded by people who hide their resentment for the midoriya name behind fake tears they’d cultured in their eyes. you catch it in slight twitches in their faces while whiteridge townsfolk mutter their fondest encounters with your mom with wobbles in their voices that sound overly rehearsed and pauses in the perfect places that give others the time to weep. the whole ordeal makes you feel queasy and sick to your stomach, how these people can find the most tender words to speak all while holding some of the most blackened hearts you’ve ever come across right in their chests— beating selfishly strong.

you sit alone, on the front pew of the chapel— radiating resentment in thick waves. for your mother, for whiteridge, for even your darling brother. wishing that he never left you, so that he could be sitting right next to you right now, suffering with you through this ceremony. wondering what life would be like if he were still by your side. would the people of whiteridge have turned their backs on you if he were still here?

would he hold your hand as they lowered your mother’s casket into the dirt a few paces away from where his lay?

the day doesn’t end at the chapel, plenty of cars clog the driveway to your mother’s house where the ‘after-party’ is being held. though the place is rackety and a little gross, the organisers had done it up well enough for people to forget the death that lingers in every corner as they pop open bottles of expensive wine and champagne you’d had imported for the very occasion. they’re hypocrites. celebrating her death rather than the life she lead— and perhaps that makes you the same, being relieved that she’s no longer breathing to torture you with how much more she loved your brother compared to you.

everywhere you turn, there’s someone apologising to you, someone patronisingly telling you that they’re sorry for your loss and wishing you well in wherever life may take you next, cooing at you about how good you look and how pretty you’ve gotten since they last saw you. you wonder if they really pity you for having no family or if they’re after the fortune and name you’ve made for yourself since leaving town. you’d changed, of course, carried a classy air about you and that was enough to fuel their gossip for weeks.

they were all but dying to ask you about how wealthy you were now. after all, your outfit cost a fortune. neighbours and doctors and store owners and highschool classmates that you used to know suffocate you with their condolences until you feel like you really might cry from how overwhelmed you are— it’d be the first time that day.

hastily, you make a break from the kitchen for a moment to breathe— taking large gulps of air as you steady yourself against the rusting, cool metal of the kitchen sink. “give ‘em hell, he said,” you chuckle to yourself, reminding yourself of the words bakugou had left you with. “more like they’re giving me hell.” you wonder where he is, almost everyone in town is here invading your childhood home and your personal space… you’d have thought he would’ve at least been one of those people but then again, he was just like you.

he fucking hated this place. you grab a full bottle of aged red wine and a handful of hors d’oeuvres that have yet to be served up and shove them down your throat— chewing at them unceremoniously just to kill time and give yourself a moment to think.

it’ll only be a few more hours until you run out of the alcohol that warms them up and loosens their lips, then you’ll have the house to yourself— see over a few repairs and head back to the city within the week. free of all of your childhood trauma and hopefully enough material to write a short book on your life so you can please mina, your publicist. until then, you decide, you’ll camp out here in the kitchen where it’s safe and quiet and peaceful.

at least that’s what you thought.

“i am so sorry for your loss.” a nasally voice cuts through your silence and you sigh, exasperated.

popping the cork on the wine bottle in hand, you take a swig before turning around to superficially thank your guest. “that’s so kind of you to say…” you begin, voice trailing off and gaze dropping a few centimetres as you meet the beady eyes of an old schoolmate.

“you probably don’t remember me, now that’cha all big and famous. we went to school together, i sat next to you in calculus. i’m minoru—“

“mineta.” you finish for the purple haired male with an obvious grimace and sip your wine again, leaning back against the kitchen counter. “i remember you. you peaked up my skirt every day throughout highschool ‘n tried to sell my underwear after gym twice a week in senior year.” you state, tongue glossing over your teeth from under your painted red lips. “you made my life a living hell.”

you hated him, it burns bright in your eyes as you look down on mineta. you hated everyone who watched on as he made a fool of you throughout your teen years. you hated this place.

he laughs you off, taking a step closer to you and you stand up straight. “let’s put that in the past shall we? we were just kids!” mineta gestures between the two of you, making the hairs on your neck stand up on end. “besides, we both know you could’a done with the cash. since your mom went kinda cookoo ‘n wasn’t supporting you—“

“what do you want?” you breathe out, frustrated and hot under the collar, torn between throwing up and killing the man. “you still here to bother me, mineta?” you’re not the same girl you were in highschool, a victim to your mother’s mistakes and the cruelty of the people around you. but, fucking hell, it stings. to have come all this way as someone who established herself as a writer, with more fame and fortune than this town can ever hope to see— only to be seen as an easy target again, like you’re a worthless piece of meat.

“i just wanted you to know, that if you ever need anything,” mineta winks, his behaviour scummy and reminiscent of your old school days. “then ‘m right here to—“

“help?” a timbre, calm voice cuts through— making the short and slimey man before you jump out of his skin. “she won’t be needin’ any of that from you, minoru.”

looking up, relief and recognition washes over you. your saviour looks a little different than you remember, but his ruby gem eyes are still warm and still safe— he’s a lot taller now, a broad strapping young man that has to duck as he makes himself known in your mother’s tiny and cluttered kitchen. locks of silky, eye-catching cherry hair would have been tumbling down his back had it not been effortlessly thrown up into a fitting man bun. he glows, skin golden and clear— with only a few scars littering his bulging arms, peeking out from his rolled up sleeves. his suit jacketed abandoned somewhere else in the house.

“k-kirishima!” mineta squeaks.

“why don’cha head outside, minoru? i heard they’re startin’ to serve up cake. wouldn’t want ya to miss out.” though he says his words slowly and his handsome face remains kind, there’s something eerily threatening about the way kirishima speaks to the other man that makes him scramble outside to join your other unwanted guests. “hey,” the redhead greets you next, muttering your name and approaching you as if you’re a deer about to be spooked. “you okay?”

letting out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding, you nod your head vigorously and set down your wine— face bursting with your first genuine smile of the evening. “well, if it isn’t eijirou kirishima!” you squeal excitedly, tipsily thrusting yourself into his arms and giving him a tight squeeze.

eijirou kirishima was probably the one thing that kept you sane during your time at whiteridge. growing up, he was the boy next door, the one who always had missing teeth but the biggest grin you’d ever seen. and even though you’d spent most of your childhood by izuku‘s side, you remember afternoons full of sunshine playing with the redhead from across the street, digging up worms and rolling in mud puddles that you’d both get in trouble for doing later on. you were close, up until you lost your brother.

other parents keeping their children away from you didn’t stop eijirou from splitting his lunch with you at recess or lending you his protractor in geometry class ( in exchange for your help, of course, it wasn’t his strongest subject ).

the pair of you officially cut ties when kirishima didn’t continue with highschool in favour for taking over the family repair business— and after you’d graduated, you skipped town, not leaving him with anything to contact you by. so eventually, you lost touch.

“lil’ midoriya!” eijirou cheers back, arms wrapping around your waist to squeeze you into him. his hugs were always incredibly comforting, and being tucked into the plushness of his chest does wonders for soothing your inner turmoil. “s’been a while.”

“i-uh, i actually don’t go by that name anymore,” you mumble to him, feeling like a sheepish school girl under his inquisitive gaze.

“oh yeah, i forgot. yer like some big-shot writer now, huh? ya even look the part!” kirishima keeps his hands on you as he pulls back to give you a once over, twirling you lightly while the fabrics of your clothes fly about.

you can’t quite place it, how he makes you feel so small, in a good way but you don’t dwell on it— happiness simmering in your veins instead of anguish. for once. “i haven't completely changed! like you said…it’s just been a while!”

“change ain’t a bad thing, darlin’,” he grins, the casual use of the pet name nearly making you short-circuit. “but ya did lose yer accent.”

“oh my god, shut up! you’re like the third person who’s mentioned my accent since i’ve been back!”

the pair of you share a laugh, which quickly fizzles into thin air as nostalgia clouds over you both. kirishima hasn’t heard you laugh in almost a decade, and you haven’t seen him at all in the same amount of time. he slowly lets you go, and an odd mix of pity and sadness crosses his features as he looks down at you. “ya looked so gloomy t’day. i-i wanted to speak with you earlier. it’s just…been so long,” he whispers, the happiness of the previous moment fading away. “you can’t be holdin’ up well.”

you’ve tried your hardest, not to feel sadness, to seem weak in front of the adults who failed you as a child. but it has been hard. your mother is gone; your brother is gone; and even though it always has been just you— that feeling is even more real to you now.

shaking your head, you blink back tears you didn’t know had, as if it’ll make them stop. “i’m not,” you reply quietly. “but such is life, right? we’re all a little miserable.”

kirishima hums in agreement but doesn’t seem pleased with your answer. “wanna get outta here? looks t’me like you could do with a lil’break. my moms are around, they could clear this place out while we go for a drive?” he suggests without thinking, the kindness in his heart speaking for him.

eijirou’s always been like that. kind.

he was one of the few people in your life to show true kindness to you.

so trusting him blindly, and without hesitation, you take the metaphorical hand he holds out to you and give him a simple…

“yes, i’d love to.”

“r’member when we were little, ‘nd izuku used to make us sneak out t’come watch shooting stars ‘nd meteor showers?”

like he’d promised, kirishima took you for a drive ten or fifteen minutes just outside of whiteridge where the woods are peaceful and the sky is clearest. it had gotten dark, fast, the moon making herself at home up above and her children shining bright right along with her as your red haired companion parked up just shy of a spot you recognised from when you were kids.

the little clearing, you remember frequenting, was surrounded by the cool scent of pine as if it were a blanket— crystal streams running through with a soft rippling tune to them, and the perfect view of every star ever to be named if you find yourself there on a clear night. its almost ironic how eijirou had driven you here, as if he knew you needed a moment with your brother after such an emotionally draining day. even after all of these years, he still knows you, what comforts you when you’re overwhelmed and need a breath of fresh air.

kirishima sits in the back of his truck, leaning back with eyes illuminated by the balls of fire burning a million miles away as he speaks. he looks to you after— his face soft and smile…adorably toothy. his entire aura, comforting.

you turn to face him with a warm smile of your own, fixing his suit jacket that he’d given you over your frame, your fingers just barely peeking out of the sleeves. “yeah, and you used to make me hold your hand ‘cause you were scared of walking here in the dark.” you’re teasing the red head as if no time has passed, like you’re still that little squadron of neighbours and other kids that would follow your brother’s lead. kirishima was just the one you were closest to out of all your older brother’s friends. he lets you saddle up to him once you get cold, wrapping a bulking arm around you— his hand on your knee, practically dwarfing you in size.

“it was f’protection!” eijirou whines as you nestle yourself into him, praying that you don’t hear fast and hard his heart is beating.

“oh sure, for protection,” scoffing, you don’t even bother looking up at your old friend— choosing to press the chub of your right cheek further into his warmth. “it was like you were in love with me or something.”

it’s a joke, initially. you’re still teasing him like you would have when you were younger— back then you thought you were the only pretty girl eijirou knew. he was much more squirmish and easily flustered back then. and even though it feels like no time has gone by, kirishima has gotten bolder. he doesn’t try to push you away, but instead pinches your waist playfully and rests his head on top of yours as if to hide his raging red cheeks under the guise of keeping you warm.

“…’nd what if i had been.”

a comfortable silence settles between you both in the back of eijirou’s truck— punctuated by the odd chirps of wild animals and the bristle of the trees around you. “then i wish you’d have said something…maybe i would’ve stuck around.” you say quietly, your voice a little hoarse from the alcohol you’d consumed earlier on in the day.

you feel him shake his head above you, soft hair tickling your forehead. “then i’d just have been holdin’ you back,” kirishima tells you like he means it, as if he knew the outcome of telling you how he really felt in the past. he doesn’t want you to dwell, to feel regret on a day of loss like this. “i mean look at’cha! you’ve got the job of your dreams. you’re successful. ya must be happy!”

your response is immediate and solemn, your pretty features airbrushed with an unwritten expression. “i wouldn’t quite call it happiness, eiji.” in the mess of your limbs huddled for heat, you walk your digits down the length of the red head’s arm and play with his fingers timidly. “but look at you! you’ve grown so much, i’m sure i used to be taller than you.”

“oh yeah?” kirishima doesn’t like that you’re sad. he spent too much of his teen years watching you drown in it. “well maybe—!” pulling himself off of you ( regretfully ), he quickly hops off the truck to stand between your legs— hoisting you by the backs of your thighs into the air so he can twirl you around in his arms. “you just got shorter!” the night sky twists into a Milky Way cocktail above you, pure and genuine laughter spilling from between your lips ( your lipstick has long worn off by now ) as you hook your ankles at the small of kirishima’s back to keep yourself secure.

coming to a standstill once more so he can catch his breath, your childhood friend brushes a thumb over your hip before he whispers to you. “…there’s one other reason why i dragged you out here.” he says your name, garnering your attention.

“and what might that be?”

“my moms wanted to know when i’d be able to start the repairs on your house, they got the call from your solicitor a couple days ago and—“

your nails dig into his broad shoulders out of excitement, head whipping down in a happy rush. “no way! you’re the repairman? thank god! at least i’ll be seeing someone i like everyday.”

kirishima breaks out into a grin at your joke and pokes at your cheek “ya like me?”

of course you do. he’s your friend, your reason for sanity…maybe your first love.

but you won’t ever admit that. you don’t need anything tying you down to this town— no less, someone like kirishima.

someone who actually cares for you.

“don’t push it, red.” you warn him simply, your tone etched with a light friskiness to let him know you’re joking— biting the tip of his finger too. “you can come work on the house whenever you’re ready. it’s not a problem to me since i’ll be a little busy working on something the whole time. just let me know the costs of anything you need, i’ll pay full price for everything, and then some.”

adjusting you in his grip, eijirou bounces you and smirks sexily when you squeak in surprise at his movements— at his brute strength. “oh? what’cha workin’ on lil’miss writer?”

“i don’t kiss and tell, eijirou.” you wink.

“really? even if i kiss ya right now? if i offer you a discount on the house?” he keeps his voice low and gravelly as he talks quietly against your earlobe— and you don’t believe for a second the stupid southern hunk doesn’t know what effect he’s having on you.

so you swat him, right in the chest and pout like a petulant child— trying to hide how easily flustered he makes you. “nuhuh! and it’s full price or no work for you, mister.”

“alright, alright! i got it!” kirishima grins, twirling you both once more. “full price and no spoilers. now c’mon, let’s get’cha home. yer shiverin’ like a city purse dog.”

calming down, you steady your hands on his broad shoulders— feeling the muscle ripple beneath your touch. “thank you for tonight, eiji.” there’s a certain wistfulness that you speak with, satisfaction and happiness breaking through your usual simple tone of voice. eijirou kirishima has always brought out the better sides in you, soothing your inner child. “all of this, it helped me feel better about not being sad for my ma’s death. helped me feel a little more free.” before you can back down or change your mind, you plant a soft smooch against the side of his face— staining his skin with the last of a crimson lipstick mark.

his gaze that matches the colour painted onto the plushness of your lips flicks down to them, before looking away— embarrassed. “oh… well s’nothin’... you deserve t’have someone t’rely on. everyone does,” kirishima mumbles as he sets you down on two feet, scratching the back of his head bashfully, letting out a nervous chuckle. “we should uh…really get’cha back. ‘fore i do somethin’ reckless.”

he bundles you up into his truck after that, guiding you into the passenger’s seat and buckling your seatbelt in— even though you both know that you’re more than capable of doing so yourself. you let him, because for once, you feel like you deserve to be cared for and looked after. the drive back is shorter than it was to the creak, mostly because you spend it teasing your old friend, swiping his cowboy hat from the back seat and shoving it atop his messy red mane to make him laugh so hard that his truck swerves along the empty mountain roads.

your mother’s house is clear and vacant when kirishima’s truck pulls into its gravel driveway, just like he’d promised you. both of his moms had texted him on your drive back to let him know that all of your guests had been promptly kicked out, leaving the place near spotless— sparing you the worry of having to clean up in the morning. like the gentleman he is, eijirou offers his hand to you when you hop out of his truck, and the novelty of it all warms you from the inside out, wrapping around your ice cold heart.

the steps to the front porch creak under the weight of the well-built man, almost dwarfing the thing as kirishima ducks his head to stand under it more comfortably— towering over you at the front door in the process. “i uh—probably should give you this back—” you say breathlessly, watching the air wrapped around the syllables of your words come out in cool puffs. you gesture to his suit jacket, still drowning you and move to shrug off the fabric, remembering how he’d so sweetly given it to you.

“n-no! keep it,” kirishima blurts out quickly, before you can even finish speaking. he grabs your hands— face hot and tainted with a bright rosey blush. “i’ll be round in a few days t’come pick it up ‘n fix a few things around the house anyways… maybe y’could try and get the lipstick stain out until then?” he’s staring down at you like he’s going to kiss you, like he wants a little more than an innocent lip lock too.

and you’d be a liar to say you weren’t thinking of inviting your childhood friend upstairs for something not so innocent either.

“i think you like it this way,” comes your response as you stand on your tiptoes, meeting kirishima halfway— giving him the space to back off or to swoop down and take what he wants.

“yeah,” eijirou breathes while his eyes flutter shut, long lashes brushing against his cheeks and in that moment— he’s close enough to have his nose nudge yours. “i do.” he takes off his hat, a hand resting on his chest as he leans down to press his lips against yours— not moving until he feels you fall into him, reciprocating with a tenderness that has you melting like butter in a pan even in the coolness of the night. your arms reach up to wrap around his thick neck as his finds your waist, tangling in the tiny carmine curls at its base while you pour unspoken words and thankfulness into the sweet smooch.

“i should go…don’t know what i’ll do if i don’t hold back so…goodnight,” he murmurs your name in pillowy hushed tones as he pulls away— barely wanting to let you go in favour of filling his lungs with oxygen again. “sleep well, kay?”

“k-kay, g-goodnight!” you sway in place, waving kirishima off with a dreamy smile before unlocking the door, rushing in and slamming it shut behind you.

there’s a tremble to your fingers as you touch your kiss-swollen lips, a squeal erupting from your throat shortly after.

you hated this place, everything about it.

except for maybe one person, who’s maybe made your trip to whiteridge worth it, after all.

‘my life fucking sucks…’

the cursor flashes on the page of your google doc teasingly— taunting you to add to the four existing words meant to be the catalyst of your origin story. the crème de la crème of your life. the piece de resistance. your god awful fucking autobiography. your brows knit together, meeting like two bristled and angry caterpillars in the centre of your forehead as you stare at the near naked document. the words don’t feel right on the page, nothing like anything you’ve ever written before and you struggle to write more.

because this doesn’t feel like you.

yes, this is meant to be a book on your life— a dedication to how you got where you are, an ode to everything you’ve ever made but… it’s not you. you’re used to building worlds from nothing but the eightieth song on your favourite playlist and three minutes of the best music you’ve ever heard. you’re familiar with designing a character based on the colour gradients in the sky that afternoon and garnering their personalities from interactions you’d seen in coffee shops or on trains throughout your week. what you were born to write is fiction, cultivating your own escape from your memories— a solace, somewhere else to breathe and exist away from real life and world issues.

writing about yourself feels like a grotesque science project, or learning about punnett squares in your tenth grade biology class. it’s like writing an essay on a concept you can’t quite wrap your brain around no matter how many sources you read into. you’re forced to analyse every little detail you spent smoothing over in your adolescence, synthesising a new skin for yourself to live in, pretending your trauma wasn’t really there.

pressing the backspace button your laptop’s keyboard, you delete the words and pull back from the screen to crack your knuckles— holding your interlinked fingers high above your head to stretch the lethargic muscles in your back. you’d been sitting at the desk in your mother's master bedroom for hours at this point— waiting for words that never come, anticipating a bigbang of inspiration to hit you until your words hit the page. you wonder if this is how the higher power felt before they created the universe, if they sat in silence, annoyance and confusion. just…waiting.

your fingertips coast over the keyboard again, typing out another sentence to start your story with.

‘my life really fucking sucks…’

did adding that extra curse word help? does starting it off like that come off as too ungrateful? you have everything, you muse, a life people only dream of having. money in your account, the number never falling too low— healthcare, basically free of charge, a secure job with rich foods to fill your stomach and all the fans where you could only ever wish to meet them all in person. that’s how your readers would perceive you, at least.

in reality, you’re bitter and lonely— you have no family, you’re too scarred from your past to make new friends and all you really have is yourself. and your publicist, mina, but she’d been pissing you off with pestering you about this book.

maybe you could be vulnerable here, use the solitude of your adulthood as material for your book. your mind starts to drift with fresh new ideas printed into some lobe of your brain until you land on a certain someone from the other night. a warm glow in your current state of gloom. kirishima…he could still be your friend. after all, you’d made a connection when you’d reunited at your mother’s funeral and his number was right there in your phone. for repairs, of course, but it was still there…

no. you shake your head, trying to realign your focus with the task and craft at hand— you could go back to your roots and do an internet search for sentence starters, a ‘how to a start book for dummies’ might help you out, too. however, the goddess of higher power seems to be messing with you, for when you click on your internet browser, you’re met with the foul message that the wifi in your mom’s house has completely gone out.

you’re so fucking lucky google docs is able to work offline— otherwise you’re sure you would have lost what little progress you’d made on the start of your book. that surely would have ruined your morning. it does appear, in spite of it all, that having no wifi gives you an excuse to take a break from your work and from mina’s nagging to call a certain hunky and red-haired repairman for assistance.

at least fate is on your side— sort of… she has a funny way of toying with you. for now, you take it as a positive sign and shake off your frustration, reaching for your phone to make the call.

“kirishima repair service, where your repairs make us riot!”

eijirou picks up your call before you can even hit the first dial tone— he’d been eager, drinking up your words like a cool glass of water on a hot summer’s day as you complained to him about the wifi, the creaky floorboards in the bathroom that freaked you out last night and the mysterious drip in the hallway connecting the living room to the kitchen. you’d been lodged up in the house since the funeral, no point in spending money on a hotel when you’d need to oversee the work on your mother’s old place anyways— sorting through her belongs for sale or storage while you worked on your book.

and, you hadn’t thought much of it at the time, one casual comment about the god-forsaken house slipping out after another and the redhead hadn’t even protested. ‘i’ll be right over,’ he said, so proud you could hear the smile in his voice from over the crackles of the line. ‘i was plannin’ to start today anyway. wanted to see your face too…’

“hmm, that’s cute.”

giggling and hiding your smile, you hold open the door wide enough for eijirou to slip past you— trying not to dwell on his size as he ducks his head to enter your childhood home, ridding yourself of any inappropriate thought. like how he nearly had you pinned against the door the other night, with the vague confirmation that he was thinking about fucking you right then and there.

“will you be needing anything, ei? i, uh, found some tools and the instructions for the router back in the kitchen…” you mumble, planning an escape route from the bulking man and your thirsty thoughts as he practically dwarfs everything in the house.

kirishima looks at you once, his inquisitive and bright eyes having swept over the interior— as if he was trying to match the look of the house to his memory. it’d been a while since either of you had been here together. “oh! nah. got everythin’ i need right here, darlin’,” he says, gaze still set on your face and neither of you making a move. right…where? did he mean you? were you everything he needed? after a beat of awkward silence he coughs, probably having realised his words and lifts his toolbox sheepishly— cheeks a shade darker than his hair. “i-i mean in here, the toolbox.”

“right…um should i point you to the—?”

“the wifi router? please.”

“don’t sound so desperate to get away from me eiji, it’ll make me feel bad.”

“‘m not!” he defends quickly, letting you guide him to the living room and to a high rustic bookshelf where the point of internet connection sits. the device is too high up for you to reach, but kirishima swipes it down with ease— avoiding eye contact with you as he inspects the red lights indicating a bad signal. “s’just…yer lookin’ at me in ways that’ll make me forget that ‘m here to work. and i need to focus, sweetheart.”

oh.

so he had been thinking about the other night too.

grinning slyly, you cross your arms over your chest— avoiding the heat bubbling under your skin when your repair man’s gaze drops down to follow your movement. “i’ll leave you to work then, eijirou. wouldn’t want to distract you from your hard work,” you coo, cocking your head to the side in satisfaction when his whole body stutters— the wifi router slipping from his grip before you catch it and pass it to him, getting a little too close. “call me if you need me, i’ll be across the hall, working on my book.”

“i-i will. if i need you. f-for the wifi! i’ll probably need’ya to check if the connection works once i reset everythin’—“ he stumbles over his words, not quite saying what he means, not quite knowing what he means, if you’re even talking about the repairs anymore. “yanno what? i’ll just start workin’ now.”

he’s so cute, so easily riled up just like you remember from back in the day. with one last pinch to his bulging bicep, you skip back to the kitchen to try and get started on your dreadful own task at hand.

“good luck, cowboy.”

about an hour and a half later, eijirou politely ( disrespectfully ) disrupts your bubble of failed creativity by clearing his throat, an apologetic expression plastered across his face before he hesitantly steps into the kitchen. you glance up from your laptop and from where you sit at the rustic, hand carved wooden dining table in the centre of the room— blinking twice to stop your eyes from bulging out of their place in your skull when they finally land on kirishima.

“any luck?” you whisper, breathing deep through your nose as he approaches the table in short strides— the scent of pine and his own musk filling the air.

“not an ounce,” kirishima huffs, clearly annoyed and you can tell by the adorable pout spread across the shine on his lips. “damn router won’t connect for more than fifteen minutes! can’t freakin’ figure the thing out!"

the red head’s shoulders slouch as he takes a seat at the table with you, squeezing himself into one of the chairs he used to have to climb into when he was little. letting out a fond laugh, you put your hand on top of his and give it a comforting squeeze— not wanting eijirou to be too annoyed with himself. “if it helps i’ve not made much progress either,” you gesture to the chicken scratch notes you’ve resorted to taking on the various sheets of paper, scattered across the table. “i can’t seem to figure out how to start this book. it’s killing me.”

this time it’s eijirou who gives your hand a soft squeeze, flipping his palm to lace your fingers together— you try not to dwell on how thick and rough they are. “‘m sure you’ll get it,” he whispers to you, a dopey look on his face— pride, for you, dancing in his ruby gem eyes. “yer amazing at what you do…”

“thanks eiji,” you chirp at his praise, bristling with happiness. “you always know what to say, huh?”

“of course, i’ll never stop tellin’ you how proud i am of you fer gettin’ outta this place. makin’ a name for yourself.” he goes on, rambling earnestly with excited dips and dives sprinkled throughout his voice. “how about this? i needa go into town to get you a new router, so after that, we can grab some grub at that old diner ‘n maybe take our frustrations out on that? my treat.”

your stomach rumbles at the thought— hunger sneaking up on you like a big cat on its prey.

“y-yeah, that sounds great!”

“one black coffee for the ‘lil lady, and one super sweet hot chocolate supreme with extra whipped cream ‘n marshmallows for you, baby.”

you try to ignore the trill of displeasure that runs through you as the waitress places your drinks on the table— leaning in real close to eijirou as she passes him his hot cocoa. he’s too distracted to notice her blatant flirting, like a child on christmas as soon as he’s got his sickly sweet beverage in front of him. but you do. she was cute, definitely from around here and pretty as a picture too— she’d make a cute little wife, and if he wanted, she could give eijirou as many kids as he damn well pleased.

you sit across from him as you stir a teaspoon of sugar or two into your coffee—bitter, tired but still mysteriously sexy so at least you had that going for you and eijirou kirishima would be a fool to pass you up for some hillbilly bit—

“black coffee? is that seriously all ya want to drink?” he cuts off your trail of thought, staring straight past the waitress and right at you— as if you’re the only person in the room.

smiling to yourself when the waitress scurries away, you circle the spoon around your mug— watching the white sugar crystals dissolve into the dark, piping hot liquid. “as black as my soul,” you joke, eyes darting up just in time to watch kirishima snort his whipped cream. “what’s so funny, ‘shima?”

“your humour was never this…dark when we’re kids.” he chuckles in response, nose scrunched and eyes bright.

you take a sip, hiding behind the rim of your cup. “being a writer does that to you.” as does being abandoned by your mom, losing your brother.

kirishima quickly senses the dip in mood and overs you a tender smile, resting his hand atop yours just like in the kitchen back home and rubbing his thumb over the backs of your knuckles. “so…this book yer workin’ on?” he pokes the bear, running back to sip on his cocoa when you playfully scowl at him.

“i said no spoilers, eiji!”

“c’mon, just one? i am treating you to breakfast — at least tell me what it’s about.”

you can’t resist when he begs like that, like a big puppy awaiting his treats— so you reply, hesitant words clinging to the steam rising from your coffee. “it’s…” you start. “it’s about my life?”

“and you’re struggling to write that?” kirishima quips incredulously, whipped cream tainting the cupid’s bow of his full lips.

body flushing with embarrassment, your lips turn into a frown. “h-hey! it’s a lot harder than it looks!”

pulling his hand from yours to wave the pair of them about, eijirou is quick to apologise— nearly knocking over your drinks in the process. “n-no! i just mean—“ the words die on his sugar-coated lips as he flounders for the right thing to say, to articulate himself properly. “i-i mean yeah, what would i know?” he speaks quieter now, looking down at his lap while his jubilant actions calm, and you cock your head to the side— curious to pick his brain for an explanation as you prompt him with a tiny ‘go on…’ “like, i dunno, i dropped outta school but…you’re interestin’, ya always have been! a-at least to me…so i figured… you’d have a whole lot t’talk about.”

you’re the one who turns bashful after that, picking at the sleeves of the random sweater you’d thrown on, discovering it at the bottom of your suitcase. your gaze wonders to the wet and frosted windows of the diner noticing the chipped paint on its panes and the walls now coated in an inviting shade of yellow— different from the colours you remember from coming here as a child on saturday mornings. there was never any consideration for how other people perceived you when it came to yourself.

you had to learn fast and hard that society didn’t take kindly to children who didn’t meet the norms, whose families were a little twisted with tragedy like yours. almost everyone you knew growing up had turned on you as soon as your brother lost his life, same as when your mother started to lose herself, too.

it never occurred to you— that someone outside of the damaging thoughts plaguing your mind would care for your story, would care about you and the little details that make up your DNA. perhaps your readers would take interest in how you and izuku would play hopscotch on the way to school, how you preferred wearing your tie loose on your neck or not at all because you didn’t like to feel too constricted, how you liked your eggs fried until their edges were a little black in your bentos or how you would trade them with the kids in the playground before it all came crashing down.

before the accident.

and maybe, your readers would take comfort in the girl the accident forced you to become. the one who kept her head down, got the grades she needed and fucked right out of town. the one who got lost in the city and published story after story in smaller anthologies until she got her big break— until someone noticed the passion she’d penned onto paper. until someone saw her for more than just her mother, and her brother and her harrowing past.

until someone finally saw you.

but someone had been seeing you all this time, rooting for you from here. from home. and he was sitting right in front of you.

“i didn’t think—” you pause, looking back at the rugged man before you. “i never knew you saw me…t-that way! that way. i never knew you saw me that way.”

kirishima hums content, an expression of wistfulness taking residence on his face.

“i don’t think you ever really noticed how i saw you.”

you open your mouth to speak— dying to know what eijirou means, but the waitress from earlier returns with the steaming hot plates of breakfast you both had ordered with the red haired repairman quick to steal a bite from yours. he forks his way through half of the omelette on your plate in favour of scraping it onto his own, giving you a wolfish grin as he downs a bite in mere seconds.

the whole ordeal makes you forget what you were planning to say. “hey! i was gonna eat that!”

“oh yeah? but’cha never finished your plate back when we were kids.” he taunts, daring to swipe more food from you.

“that’s ‘cause you always ate what was on it before i got the chance!” you squeak back through your laughter, blocking his fork with your own.

after breakfast at the diner, the rest of your day is spent pressed right up to eijirou’s side as he guides you around whiteridge’s town centre. he’d fought you over the bill, let you stand on your tiptoes to ruffle his mane when you paid a tip worth greater than the bill as he pouted on the way out too. his fingers graze yours along the way, not too far out of reach but enough to remind you that he’s there— walking with you through the memories that you relive.

he points out the tuck shops you would sneak into after class. he forces you to press your nose against the glass with him watching the bakery put out fresh loaves of milk bread and tucks his hat over your ears when the breeze starts to pick up, sending ice chills down your spine.

kirishima is unbelievably warm and it’s intoxicating, his joyous spirit floods through your dark memories of whiteridge with hues of soft pinks— removing the taint of loneliness from your childhood. he’ll kiss your knuckles after every spot you visit— good and bad, reminding you that he’s there with every step you take through the town that left you to rot when you were too young to defend yourself.

kirishima is there, kirishima will always be there and he’ll always choose you. and you remind yourself not to take his comforting presence in your life for granted from now on.

you both fly back almost ten years when you stumble upon the playground you used to frequent as little ones. like children, you race to the rusted and red painted swing set— slipping on the ice, with your cheeks bitten raw by the cold as it shows in each puffed out breath you take. it makes you feel alive, makes you feel the blood pumping hotly through your veins again.

there are mothers with their infants that look down on you both, but neither of you can think to care, too wrapped up in the happy bubble of nostalgia that shelters you both from the cruel world. of course, eijirou beats you to it, claiming the last remaining swing and sitting on it with all his weight— nearly pulling the damn thing from its old and worn out chains.

“push me, darlin’,” eijirou demands jocosely, his big hands gripping the chains— his crimson eyes rioting and roaring with a teasing glint as he looks up at you. flirts with you. “or yer chicken.”

rolling your eyes, you stand in front of him. “you think i can’t, red?” placing your hands over his on the chain and muster all your strength to start swinging him back and forth, the heels of your boots crunching against the frosted tarmac beneath them. “you’ve gotten bolder while i’ve been away! what’s gotten into you?” you goad him, picking up momentum while you both sway with the swing. “did you look up flirting tips after that girl… who was it? nejire from two grades above found out you had a crush on her in middle school—“

“you still don’t get it,” he says. the swinging comes to a dramatic halt, kirishima forcefully digging his boots into the rubber flooring below to stop you both— his grip on the chains dropping to cling to your waist, dragging you to stand between his wide spread legs. “do you?”

“e-eijirou—?”

your words die with the gust of wind that blows over you both and you can’t tell if you’re shivering because of how cool it is or because of kirishima’s warmth as it spreads through you like a flame taking over kindling— his lips ghosting over yours, pressing a feather light kiss to them as if to test the waters. when you tilt your head to meet him at a better angle, the redhead knows it’s safe to continue— deepening his actions, gliding his tongue against the seam of your lips as though to ask permission for more before you let him.

the kiss is a little rougher than you’ve felt with him before, contradicting with his gentlemanly nature— not that you mind, feeling all the emotions he pours into it.

“meant what i said, yanno,” kirishima breathes into your mouth after you pull apart, eyes half lidded and his hold on you still tight— as if he doesn’t want you to slip away. “ya never noticed the way i looked at you. how much i liked ya. even now, there’s been no one else since you left.”

“eiji…” you gasp, wordless for the moment but he presses on, brushing a thumb over your cheek.

warm, unlike the weather.

“i’m not asking for all of you now…or for you to magically have feelings for me. i can wait, i’ve had to for this long anyways.” he adds with a smile, one so soft compared to how he just kissed you— sending you reeling and making your heart a rapid beating mess. “no pressure or anything, we can make this whatever you want it to be.”

“a-and what if…what if i want you by my side?”

“then i’ll be here.”

“for how long?”

“as long as you’ll have me.”

you fist kirishima’s jacket under your grip and steady yourself— blinking back tears of appreciation before they fall, letting kirishima thumb them away when they do. “that’ll be a while red, i hope you know that.” you huff, holding onto him so that he doesn’t let you go.

kirishima only wraps the entirety of his arm around your waist— keeping you close as he says. “i know, i’ll make that time worth your while,” he presses a small smooch to your midriff, looking up at you with those same rioting and lovesick red eyes and speaking again. “let’s get’cha back home ‘n set that wifi up, yeah? i think me kissin’ you in front of all those mommas has them a little spooked ‘n to be honest, ‘m barely holdin’ myself back here.”

“you’re insatiable, red.” you swat at his chest, stepping back so he can tower over you once again.

“and who’s to blame for that?” kirishima pinches your side back all while taking your hand to lead you out of the park and back to the bustling square of whiteridge.

‘me.’ you think giddily and your heart settles in its place, soothed by eijirou’s heavy hand in yours.

for once you’re happy to take the blame for this one.

there’s a car you don’t recognise in your driveway when you get back— blocking kirishima’s truck from parking up next to your own vehicle.

“do y’know whose car that is? were you expecting guests?”

raising a brow, you peer up at kirishima who sits confused behind the wheel. “you’re the only person i like in this town and all of my family is dead. of course i’m not expecting guests.” you deadpan, but raise your hands in defence when the repairman glares down at you. “i kid! i kid!”

“not funny, darlin’,” he grunts and sets the car into park, making sure she’s steady before opening the door on the driver’s side. “stay here, ‘m gonna check it out. robberies aren’t that common here but i don’t wanna risk it.” risk you.

with your face scrunching up, your actions follow the same path as your red haired companion and you unbuckle your seatbelt swiftly to jump out of the truck. “you’re not leaving me here! what if mineta’s lurking around, waiting to get me alone!” you huff, boots crunching on the ice below as you follow kirishima’s tacks up towards your mother’s house and current place of residence.

“neither of those jokes were funny, stop makin’ fun of yer trauma, kay?” he scolds you gently, casting his gaze over his shoulder to check on you. only when eijirou‘s back is turned again, do you mimic and mock him a little before slipping your hand into his— noticing he was holding it out for you from behind. you hear the porch creek up above, breath hitching as kirishima yells at the intruder. “hey! don’cha know that this is private property— you can’t be here!”

“calm yer tits shitty hair, ‘m just here to get my stuff. i ain’t botherin’ no one.” a rough voice responds, sending a wave of familiarity through you. “b’sides, i got. a fuckin’. key.” the last sentence is punctuated with pockets of a condescending tone— causing light bulb memories to flash through your mind and back to the night at the bar.

“bakugou?”

stepping out from behind the mountain that is eijirou kirishima, you reveal yourself to another set of red eyes— watching as recognition flood’s the blonde’s features and smooths over the crease between his knitted brows. “well, well, well. who do we fuckin’ have here…” bakugou rasps, his signature smirk tugging the corners of his lips upwards as he gives you the once over. “how ya doin’, sweetheart? mind gettin’ this big red oaf off my back?”

“oaf? sweetheart, do you two know each other?” kirishima grunts defensively, squaring himself in front of you as if to protect you from katsuki’s leering gaze.

“know each other?” bakugou interjects before you can, smirk only widening. “we slept together, shitty hair. couple days ago, weren’t it, baby? she took me real fuckin’ good—“

“now hold on a second!”

“are we lyin’ now, bakugou? doesn’t the town hate you enough for that already?”

“e-eiji! that’s not nice—“

“you don’t know shit, fuckface.”

“oh, i know all about whiteridge’s shitty little recluse—“

growing more irritated and embarrassed by the boys’ back and forth arguing— you reach into bakugou’s car through the window ( as it’s still running and open ) and press down on the horn until it shocks them both out of their bickering. “that’s enough!” you growl, eyes shooting between them angrily as you take turns pointing fingers at them. “kirishima, backdown. you’re not my guard dog…and bakugou! what the fuck are you doing here? is your name really even bakugou?”

both the blonde and the redhead settle for a second. “it is, i am katsuki bakugou.” bakugou shifts on your front porch and lifts a box up high for you to see, once that you didn’t notice before. “used to live here, helped ya ma out since she looked after me durin’ a rough time…after ya skipped town ‘n stuff.” he explains simply, wincing when you let out a quiet gasp that’s slightly visible in the cold air. “just came t’get the last of my shit. couldn’t bring myself to tell ya before…and it wasn’t appropriate at the funeral. ‘m sorry for that.”

“you…knew my mom?” you frown, clutching onto kirishima who stays as still as stone, watching the exchange.

“yeah…she wasn’t as crazy as ya made out to be at the bar, yanno.” the blonde smiles sad, yet wistfully, passing by both you and eijirou to get to his car.

kirishima barks from beside you, tracking bakugou’s movements like he’s defending his territory. “don’t you think it’s rude to speak ill of the dead?”

“don’t you know that i ain’t fuckin’ talkin’ to you?”

“boys,” you warn again before turning to katsuki to give him your name. your real one, with the midoriya last name and all, and it brings you comfort when he doesn’t immediately point it out or apologise for your loss like everyone else. “thanks for stopping by bakugou, and thank you for that night, i guess?”

he nods, slipping into his vehicle with the box now in the passenger’s seat— the rest stashed away safely in his trunk. “anytime, princess,” he coos, revving up his engine to drive away and around eijirou’s truck— only reminding you even more of the explicit night that you both shared before your mother’s funeral.

you watch him go with the redhead as your company, jumping out of your skin when he speaks to you, roughly. “y’should head up to the house. i’ll get the new wifi router from the truck ‘n set up for you.”

“do you need any help again?”

“no need. i got this.”

just like he said, eijirou handles everything on his own— fixing your wifi and setting it up with speed. except, he’s icy the whole time, rejecting your advances, meaner and slightly ruder than before as he works until he doesn’t anymore. gone is the soft, warm and comforting heat of eijirou kirishima from earlier, where he kissed you and practically begged you for a chance. you can only assume it has something to do with your hook up and encounter with bakugou… but that was before and it’s not like your sex life was any of his business.

kirishima rushes off before tending to any other repairs to the house— grumbling something about coming back in a few days time as he slams the door shut behind him, leaving you to fester in silence once more. men are fuckin’ weird, you decide.

with no inspiration left in the tank and you feeling a little butt-hurt from the boys— you take solace in exploring your old house and the memories that dance within it’s creaking walls. pictures line the pathway up the staircase to your childhood or teenage bedroom, and you can’t help but stop to look at framed and dusty photographs of you and your brother throughout your early years. all toothless and gappy smiles.

a particular one catches your attention— a snap of both you and izuku decked out in swimmer’s gear, juice stains from red popsicles smeared along your chubby cheeks and orange against izuku’s freckled ones. you remember it being taken on a summer’s day before you ventured into the woods to swim about in the streams so you could cool off.

lifting the frame from the wall, you blow off the dirt, thumbing your older brother’s youthful face— missing him, hurting for him and pressing the trinket close to your chest as if to hold him for one last time. you squeeze a little too tight, jumping back as paper slips from behind the frame and onto the wooden steps with a light thud.

“what the—?” you muse to yourself, hanging the portrait back on its nail before carefully scooping up the sheets of paper.

the notes, with your mother’s writing on them.

a photo of deku, katsuki and eijirou all together.

‘they know something.’ one reads. ‘the boys, izuku’s friends.’ says another.

a chill runs down your spine, your body not liking the ominous wording or the idea that you’re reading a dead woman’s thoughts. a million questions race through your mind all at once while you dart up the stairs and to your room, snapping pictures of the notes just in case— sending them to your laptop. just in case.

they were hidden for a reason, tucked behind one of your happiest memories in hopes that you’d…find them? perhaps? you can’t figure out for the life of you what they mean, why your mother wrote them or her motive to have tucked them away…but what you do know, is that something doesn’t feel right about them. that something tells you that she might have been right about izuku‘s death being somewhat suspicious.

you can’t help but dwell on the thought, even up until you’re tucked into bed, an idea for the startling line of your book coming to you once you finally manage to drift off.

‘my life, is a complete and utter fucking mystery. and you’re going to help me solve it…’

apparently, being simultaneously ghosted and pissed off makes you write a whole lot faster.

it’s been a few days since the stand-off outside your house between the two men you’ve somehow gotten yourself involved with— resulting in you getting ghosted by both of them. bakugou, mostly because you don’t have his number. and kirishima? well he’s just been a prick. since beginning his work on the house he’s probably said all but twenty words to you— clearly still riled up by the fact that you’ve slept with someone else.

fuelled by your annoyance at the two, you’d managed to make a breakthrough on your book and kept yourself hauled up in your mom’s old room, writing away while staying to oversee repairs on the house for a little while longer. it’d been at least two weeks since everything went down.

silence and the sound of your fingertips married to your keyboard have been your only friends since eijirou started to ignore you— not that you mind, they were great company growing up too. with more than three pages filled with the intricate details of your early life, your birth, your first crawl and then your first walk, you decide to take a break from your work before delving deeper and head for a piping hot shower.

the water soothes your tense muscles, washes away the fear and anxiety you’ve felt since discovering your mother’s notes and trying to figure out what they mean. lathering up, you scrub at your skin until you feel clean of any discomfort and mystery clinging to it before the water suddenly runs cold— acting as a shockwave that runs through your system.

it forces you to begrudgingly send a text to eijirou, asking him to fix the shower while you work and he sends a quick, disinterested reply of ‘sure.’ as you towel yourself dry for his arrival. he’d wanted to do some repairs to the house anyway.

you’re lucky that the house is warm, waltzing around in nothing but an oversized shirt and fuzzy winter socks by the time kirishima pulls up in your driveway— a hot mug of coffee and milk between your fingertips when you open up for him. “coffee?” you ask him politely as if the redhead is a stranger, closing the door behind him as he kicks the ice from his boots and sets his toolbox down.

“is it black?”

“no.”

“then yeah, i’ll have one.”

he’s still being cold, a bit of an ass— but perhaps you can’t really blame him. literal minutes before bakugou had shown up on your doorstep, he’d been asking for a part of you. telling you that he’d wait for you and you’d agreed after many years of being apart. kirishima had a right to be mad, but you were, too— nobody ghosted you. in the kitchen, you brew and sweeten up his coffee, setting it on the counter above his head as he works on the water source in the cupboard beneath the kitchen sink, tools splayed out beside him.

now, as you write at the dining table, you’re accompanied by an awkward silence, clanking tools and your fingers on the keys. every now and again, red eyes stray over to your bare thighs squeezed together ( from sneaking peeks at the way the burly redhead’s arms bulge with every twist of the water pipe with his wrench or whatever the hell it is ). tension layers itself thickly in the air, and you know eijirou’s been holding himself back when it comes to you, so you take this opportunity to try and get him to talk to you. to get the answers you need about the notes you found the other night.

“hey kirishima?” you call out to him as he stands up to finish off his hot drink, closing your laptop.

“hmm?”

“uh…” you pause, gnawing nervously on your lower lip. if you ask him now, there’s no telling how kirishima will respond, you’re not on speaking terms and as far as he knows, he doesn’t owe you anything. just like you don’t owe him an explanation on bakugou— who he doesn’t seem to like very much. “were you…you and bakugou, friends?”

kirishima stiffens— gaze shooting up from your thighs to your face, as if to read it. “why you askin’, dollface?”

“my mom,” you start, fisting the hem of your shirt between your fingers and fiddling with a loose thread. “i found some photos of hers, of the two of you with izuku…some notes too. it just got me thinking…maybe she was right about the accident and something happened, and i just want to know if you truly know anything about what happened to him.”

the red-haired repairman shakes his head slow at first, picking up in velocity as if he’s denying any thought that comes to mind— turning away from you to get back to fixing your water. “i’ll tell you what i told y’mom ‘n the police at the time. i don’t know anythin’ much about what happened to midoriya,” he huffs simply, grunting with exertion. “and look, midoriya, you and i were good childhood friends and … i’ve no idea why bakugou was hanging around us or in the photo from back then. so, maybe…just drop it?”

your face scrunches up sourly at his words, anger flashing through you. “drop it?” you snap— tone so harsh that both you and kirishima jump out of your skin. “eijirou, this is my family…i never understood what my mother meant as a kid. i didn’t get her pain or why she suddenly turned on me, but i feel like this is a sign, her way of reaching out to me after she—“

“after she what? died? you didn’t even care up until now! and now ya wanna go diggin’ through skeletons in the closet because of some…some note? blaming me?”

“that's not fair, eijirou! and that’s not what i’m saying!”

he dares to bite— baring his fangs at you like you do with him. “oh? so what are you sayin’?”

“that maybe there’s some truth to what my mom believed. that something really did happen to my brother…to izuku. to your friend.” you fight back, standing from your seat so fast that it flies back and hits the floor with a loud clang. “why else would she have hidden the clues, the pictures in the house?”

“why are you even lookin’ into this shit now?”

silence.

kirishima folds his arms over his chest, breathing heavy from all the yelling before he prompts you again. “why are you doin’ all this?” he asks, nursing your name bitterly.

“for my book.” you state, quieter and shamefully.

watching eijirou’s face morph from an expression of confusion to one of hurt, and shock, and betrayal makes you feel sick to your stomach— knowing that you caused it. “yer fuckin’ kiddin’ me,” he slurs angrily, brows furrowed and meeting in the centre of his forehead. “seriously? your brother died. and you’re diggin’ into his past, his death for some fuckin’ clout?”

“eijirou it’s not like that—“

“don’t you ‘eijirou’ me!” this time, the redhead roars so loud it makes you cower back— surprised that he would ever direct such a tone towards you. “yer not the only person who lost a brother. yer not the only person who fuckin’ grieved. stop sticking your nose in places they shouldn’t be and let izuku rest! do yourself a favour and quit while you’re ahead b’fore you end up goin’ crazy just like your ma—“

the world around you shatters like glass as eijirou hits you where he knows it’ll hurt the most. it’s like he knew exactly what cells and nerves of yours to target in order to cause you the most pain. before you go crazy, like your mother. the one thing you couldn’t possibly stand in this world, would be to end up exactly like her. to have driven away everyone, to be perceived as a freak who just couldn’t let her loved one rest in peace. you didn’t want that for izuku, and hell, eijirou was right. you didn’t want that for her either, in a way.

still, it doesn’t make his words ache any less— tears stinging at your eyes like acid or poison before you can even stop them, letting them fill the silence echoing between you both.

“fuck,” kirishima abandons his tools faster than the speed of light, brushing a hand through his red mane before striding over to you— lifting you to sit on the kitchen label and pulling you into his plush chest since you’re too numb to resist him. “‘m sorry, i— i shouldn’ta said that to ya.” his forehead presses against yours, his large hands parting your thighs to stand between them as he rubs circles into the swell of them— doing anything he can to bring you back down to him, to soothe your quiet sobbing. “‘m so fuckin’ sorry darlin’, dunno what came over me. what i was thinkin’. that was an asshole move from me.”

he goes on, mumbling apologies over and over again— but you’re numb to them all, eyes glazed over and mind blank…because maybe it’s true. maybe eijirou is right and you really should just leave it all alone.

you let him kiss you softly, a few times, gentle pecks against your lips until they’re brushed with unspoken forgiveness. because it feels nice to have him close again, to not be ignored by the only person in this shitty world who might, still actually give a fuck about you.

“‘m so sorry,” kirishima says when you finally make an effort to kiss him back, angling your head just right for him to lick at your lips— tasting the coffee on them.

you shake your head, letting your fingers tangle in his luscious mane— gripping him as he calms your frenzied mind. clears it of any thought. “it’s okay, kirishima, it’s okay.” you offer in comfort, even though he should be the one comforting you.

you let kirishima stay the night after he fixes up the water and a few other things— with it being too dark and the colder weather starting to pick up a little bit more now that the temperatures have dropped below zero. he orders takeout, on him, from a quaint little business owned by someone else you went to school with— someone who went by the name sato.

it almost freaks you out how tenderly he treats you after damn near tearing your head off earlier— spoon feeding you, keeping you tucked into his toned and blisteringly hot side while you watch silly cartoons to fill the space as you finish off your writing for the day. neither of you speak about the argument, nor dare to bring it up in fear of setting one another off again but you can’t seem to shake the suspicion feeling— debating whether or not kirishima has something to hide.

you have a moment to breathe when he asks to wash up before bed, and you agree, offering to make you both a warm cocoa so you can settle down for the night. though, when you return, you don’t expect to see eijirou hunched over your open laptop at your desk— seemingly clicking through files even though he’s fresh out of the shower, red hair dripping about the place and broad, bare and golden shoulders decorated with crystalline droplets of water, a pair of cotton sweatpants hanging low around his waist.

“what are you doing?” you ask hoarsely, using your voice properly for what feels like the first time in hours.

spinning around in his seat, eijirou looks at you with an expression that reads ‘a deer caught in headlights’, quickly clicking out of whatever he was obviously snooping in. “oh um— i was lookin’ f’some music, somethin’ romantic so i could set the mood for tonight,” he turns back to your laptop and pulls up the draft for the intro to your book, reading over it proudly as you walk up behind him and set the mugs of cocoa to the side. “then i came across this, and i know you said no spoilers but… s’really good. i like it, pays homage to izuku.”

kirishima lies smoothly, to the point where you almost believe what he’s saying— but a quick glance at your files from over his shoulder tells him he’d been looking through the notes and photos your mother had hidden, the ones you’d sent to yourself. “please don’t go through my stuff, eiji. it’s private,” you murmur, realising that only one of the files is missing, and you shoo eijirou out of his seat at the desk to recover it and password lock the data.

“s-sorry,” he seems apologetic, holding his hands up as a sign of retreat as you stand to face him once again. “i didn’t know you were that serious ‘bout that stuff, wouldn’t have looked if i had known.” you almost hate how timbre and hypnotic kirishima’s voice is— feeling as though you can’t be mad at or irritated with him for long; like he knows just what to say to get your mind to do a clean sweep and forget any wrongs he might have done. it’s hard to put your walls up around him, shut him out when he’s so inviting— cautiously taking you into his arms, his lips finding your neck to place calculated smooches along the path of it.

feather light, barely there as if the kisses never existed in the first place.

“i-i told you,” you reply, holding your breath— depriving your brain of the oxygen it needs to be able to think properly. “no spoilers, eijirou.”

his sharpened teeth come into play next, just barely puncturing your skin with little marks and bites between ever growing sloppy kisses, his spit leaving a warm shine against your throat. “alright, alright, no more spoilers,” he whines against your neck, heated breath coasting along your skin until it rises with goosebumps. “just…didn’t think that y’cared about yer past that much.”

writhing in his hold and letting eijirou push you back to lean against the desk, you whine back— sounding needier than he did. “i don’t… i just got curious.” you let your counter argument slip away from you as kirishima sucks a mark just under the shell of your ear, humming at your speeding pulse beneath his lips.

he uses a knee to nudge your legs apart, both of you growing more desperate— hungrier, the red haired repairman lifting you to sit on the edge of the table by the waist. “thought we weren’t supposed to talk about it, though,” he keeps going, teasing you and taunting you— picking you apart under his touch as eijirou’s fingertips ghost up your shirt to massage the swell of your thighs.

your breath hitches, lips parting in a quiet moan at every squeeze of your flesh— your own fingers curling in a sea of ruby locks. “eijirou…please,” you plead with him— wanting to hear anything but talk of your book, wanting to hear your name coat the inside of his mouth. you buck your hips up into nothing, using your grip on his hair to tug kirishima close enough for some friction, grinding your clothed cunt against his girth showing through his sweatpants.

“please, what, darlin’?” his words hang between a set of shark sharp teeth— ones that leave bruising marks against your skin while his hips follow your movements, pushing back and forth against your panties for some relief too. “what? y’want me to fuck you, is that it? that why you’re grinding this cute cunt against my—fuck— cock?” kirishima soothes what he bites, pink tongue peeking out between pearly whites to gloss over the inflamed areas he’s left on you, knowing that they’ll be more visible come sunrise. “say it, darlin— say you want me.”

“i need you,” you wheeze, at a loss for words with kirishima descending from your neck, placing open mouthed kisses along your collarbones, tugging the collar of your shirt down to give the same treatment to your chest. before he can go any further, one of your hands leaves his hair to tilt his chiselled chin up to face you, a neediness taking over your tone and desire spreading through your bloodstream. “come up here, kiss me.”

eijirou’s mouth is quick to melt against yours just as it has done many times before, his wet tongue grazing your bottom lip before forcing its way into your mouth— claiming you as his. his cheeks flame at his own boldness, while you surge forward and chase the dopamine high he gives to you every time your lips lock. your teeth sink into his bottom lip, daring the man to pull away as you drag the flesh away from him but kirishima is just as hungry for you as you are for him, hands sliding up your shirt and over your rib cage, thumbing the bare skin until you gasp— letting your tongues come together sloppily, lips slotting against one another in mismatched ways.

kirishima doesn’t stop the route of his hands under your shirt, letting them settle on the clasp of your bra before he pulls way— both of you panting for breath.

“w-what?” you grumble, nosing his face, missing his kisses already. “is something the matter?” you’re impatient, you don’t like waiting for something you feel you deserve. kirishima had been pining after you for years, there’s no doubt in your mind that he’s imagined having you like this for several of them so you don’t understand why he pauses, ghosting his fingertips under the curve of your breast where it meets your rib cage— marvelling as you arch into him subtly.

the repairman shakes his head, a slow smile tugging on the corner of his lips, as if he knows how much he affects you— knows that your body tingles with anticipation, craving something more than a few kisses and playful touches. “yer just so pretty, darlin’, wanna take my time with you,” he drawls, finally undoing your bra and letting the nylon material fall away from your breasts and revealing them to his hungry hooded eyes. “that okay?” rough padded thumbs press into your budded nipples from under your shirt, the cotton material only serving to make them more sensitive— you can’t even think straight to answer eijirou, writhing and shaking your head from a few simple touches. “c’mon gorgeous, don’t be like that. you wanna feel good, right? lemme take care of that.”

his voice oozes with condensation accompanied by gentle tones of adoration watching you react to him in such a way— it’s like your body knows to love him, to trust him even if your mind doesn’t and you whine out for him. “wanna feel good eijirou, i’ll do anything just—please,”

“awh, s’fuckin’ cute,” he laughs, leaning back down to kiss you hungrily, making his goal to swallow you whole and fill you with every ounce of lust he has for you. kirishima’s mountainous frame looms over you, chest to chest as his teeth sink into your lower lip— pulling back while you desperately attempt to lick up into his mouth and suck in his devious tongue. “god, you’re so fuckin’ cute, baby, taste so good, so sweet.” spit slings between your eager mouths, drool running down your chins the messier you both become and as he gropes and pinches and tweaks at your sensitive chest, your own hands make the trek down his muscled back— the dull edge of your nails carving a red streaked patch down his flesh as well.

your tongues dance messily with one another, a little out of sync for new lovers or the teenagers that you once were finally admitting your feelings for one another after all this time— truly proving to you that kirishima had waited. that there was no one else while you had been away, just as he’d told you earlier on. his hips rut against your arousal soaked panties, pressing against your fluttering cunt and riling him up beyond belief— both of you shudder as you practically ride his precum loaded tip, the dull head of it nudging your clit over and over again to the point where you’re scared you might cum to soon.

“eijirou,” you croak, needy and without shame— your soft hand darting between the bump and grind of your bodies to grasp at his thick, temperate shaft as it glides through the length of your cotton clad slit. “s-slow down…’m sensitive,” you breathe heavily into his mouth while both of you gasp into each other’s open mouths and share high-pitched moans, your chest rising and falling as if you’ve been running a marathon. his forehead, lightly doused with sweat, rests against yours as he pouts— leaning close to tug on your bottom lip.

his usually kind and bright ruby eyes are lust blown, the black in them nearly eclipsing the red colour. “but sweetness,” he whines, cock twitching in your hold as blood pulses through the pretty purple veins wrapped around it. “fuck, s-sweetness, ‘m barely holdin’ back here.” kirishima sounds like a broken man, more wrecked than you from only a little dry humping. his grip on your thighs tightens in anticipation, the broad and muscular man close to collapsing on top of you.

“lemme touch you,” you whisper, voice silky smooth and sultry while you work your hand past the band of his sweats to get a better proximity to his hardness. “make you feel it,” your gentle fingers explore him, tracing over the thick veins on the underside of his length before forming a fist around the rest of him— creating the perfect sticky fleshlight for eijirou to fuck. he hisses, jutting his hips forward into your hand while the air tingles with a newfound desire to be close— to forget whatever bad blood had brewed between you both earlier on in the day.

wet, slick sounds fill the room, acting as a personalised soundtrack to jerking kirishima off. he leaks copious amounts of arousal, white and loose from his bright red tip coloured in a shade to rival his hair and eyes. his precum guides the movement of your hand despite the restriction from his waistband, slipping and sliding up and down his dick. saliva pools on the palette of your tongue as you gauge the sheer size of your childhood crush— he’s huge, swollen and fat with an oncoming orgasm, with the seed that weighs down his balls that swing with each rut of his hips.

the wild whine that resounds from deep within kirishima’s rock hard chest makes your cunt quiver, your juices darkening the crotch of your underwear. all the while, the redhead ravishes you pulling your atoms apart and putting them back together with just his touch— running from your thighs, over your hips and stopping just below your ribcage, thumbs sitting under the flesh of your breasts. “pretty girl, you’re g’nna be the death of me if ya keep jerkin’ me off like that,” he stutters out, breath condensing on spit shining top lip. it makes him throb knowing that it’s him, that did that to you— using his saliva as his claim over you. “ohhh fuck, just like that…god, i-i can’t.”

you feel a little powerful, breaking such a big and strong man down into nothing but a resolve of pathetic squeaks and hiccuped mewls. though, you fail to remember that you’re just a puppet on eijirou’s strings— he’s the master in this scenario, his large hands moving up to cup the entirety of your chest, groping them roughly as the feverishness of hips increases. without a second thought, he tweaks your nipples, brushes over them with the heat of your palm as if to make you as much of a mess as himself. levelling the playing field.

though he’s hunched over you, kirishima falls like an angel with burning wings angel from up above and descends down on your clothed chest— ravenous teeth biting into your right sensitive and stimulated mound, hot mouth sucking on it while his free hand cruelly toys with the other. his strawberry tongue rolls languidly over your nipples, earning him those darling babyish cries from between your bruised lips and a squeeze to his dick— the sensation sending his eyes rolling far back into his skull. “d-don’t get too cocky, baby,” the redhead rasps nice and low despite his voice cracking like the slow burn of firewood. “‘m in charge r’member?” and he is, even if you pump his slick cock to your heart's content, he still dominates every corner of your mind. he still has mastery of your every waking thought, raunchy or not. kirishima owns you, whether you like it or not.

without another word, he latches back onto you— biting and sucking at whatever he can like he’s teething, marking up your raw and covered flesh like a man starved of his last meal. you don’t dare to think of anything else, drinking up the sight of kirishima’s wet and sloppy cock in your hands instead, sure that his sweatpants are tainted with the preview of his impending high, a charcoal coloured patch forming where his clear and stringy arousal seeps through the fabric and dirties your hands with salacious sin.

your watery eyes dart upwards to watch the man’s face, serene, pretty as he uses you…and in a way, you use him. a crutch for your emotional imbalances, a numbing drug for the pain lodged in your chest. eijirou kirishima is the visage of beauty that distracts you from the harsh, ugly reality of your daunting world— with fuzzy and contented eyes, ropes of his own drool connecting the roof of his mouth to his eager tongue and rose tinted cheeks that are coloured almost the same shade as the apple the snake offered to eve ( a perfect match ).

he’s forbidden, he’s a trap set out to get you— and you find yourself going against all the alarm bells ringing off in your head.

because you want him. you want to be wanted by him.

“can ya do me a favour, darlin’?” eijirou shakes in your hold, crumbling as your thumb glides over the oozing slit on his tip before you circle it subtly. “think ya can make me cum? be so fuckin’ good f’me, hm?” they’re not questions, more like candy wrapped order and you follow them blindly— led head first by his alluring voice into a pool of honeyed praises with each syllable running through your ears, sending a shiver right down your spine and to the tips of your toes. “got so much f’you sweet girl…fuck, wanna give it all to you.”

when you nod— desperate to please him, the corners of kirishima’s lips twitch up into slow sick grin that you know shouldn’t make you melt, should strike fear into your heart, before he kisses you tenderly, letting you know how good you are for him.

your free hand joins its partner beneath the layers of eijirou’s clothes, letting him fuck through both of your fists as if they’re the tight, velvety depth of your cute little pussy clenching around him. “are you close, ei?” you ask him softly, pleadingly with a growing appetite to see him weak above you. the pace of your fingers switches from fast to tantalisingly slow, and the changes in stimulation only serve to bring kirishima closer and closer to his high— his chest heaving and speech pattern slurred, like he’s losing touch with reality and the last remainders of his sanity.

it doesn’t take much for him to tumble over the edge, just a small whimper of his name on your cherry bitten lips has kirishima seconds away from cumming— hard. he pushes your hands away, hazy and swaying on his feet as kirishima takes over on tugging one off on his fat cock. “lemme see that pussy baby, need’a see her, w-wanna—!” his rambled words taper off into a strangled groan as you lift your night shirt high and yank your soiled panties to the side with freed hands— revealing your warm shiny mound to his greedy gaze. “f-fuck!” he can’t help it, how much he cums— white hot seed spewing from his aching cock all over your thighs, your shirt and your adorable twitching sex, so wet and sticky all for him. his orgasm shakes the mountain that is eijirou kirishima like an earthquake, and much like a rockslide, he tumbles over you— humping the creaminess between your thighs like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.

kirishima doesn’t stop cumming, his heavy load thick and lubing you up while he pushes his milky shaft through your bare folds, convulsing over you on the desk as your pussy lips cling to him— tied to his shaft by your syrupy nectar and the remnants of his orgasm. “oh…eijirou,” you sigh, barely holding back your hips as they circle upwards to meet his, grinding your naked mound against his— the scent of sex beginning to hang in the fizzling air between you both. “w-we should grab a condom… or somethin’…” you add half heartedly, the rawness of his cock slotting perfectly against you replacing all rationale in your mind as you commit the feeling to memory.

“but i like you like this darlin’, so close, so wet up against me…makes me wanna fuck you raw,” kirishima says like a petulant child, blissed out and already throbbing with life again— gearing up for another round. “don’t you wanna feel me that way? lemme stretch you out, get nice ‘n fuckin�� deep…ohmyfuckin’ god, y’feel like heaven, baby...” just being pressed up against you like this makes his dick spurt tiny streams of seed, eijirou’s eyes screwing shut as he pushes himself past his overstimulation to grind into your addictive heat some more.

your jaw goes slack, muscles giving out on you as you collapse against the desk— an electric current of pleasure humming through your body each time eijirou catches your clit, pushing his milky seed through the length of your puffy pussy and letting it stick between your folds. “w-we can’t…” you weakly protest through your clouded judgement. “‘m s’pposed to be responsible.”

shaking his head, kirishima pouts down at you. “baby please…, please,” there’s no denying that eijirou knows his way around people, maybe a little more so than you. he knows just what to say to a customer to get a better price for his work, knows how to charm someone into doing exactly what he wants with just a smile. “won’t put it in, we’ll just keep goin’ just this,” he pants, slowly drawing his hips back until the only thing that connects him to your sopping cunt is strings of your mixed arousals. “we’ll get’cha plan b in the mornin’ too…please, i’ll do anythin’,” pushing back against you, it’s clear that he knows how to get to you, predicts your next move in every game of chess you play. so when he grins down at you dopily, noses your cheek softly and almost romantically, you can’t help but give in.

“p-promise, eiji?” you ask him wetly, with big bambi eyes and your lips caught between your teeth. both of you cry out in unison when the repair man reaches between your sweaty bodies to take hold of his cock— making sure to circle the bulbous tip into the swollen nub peeking out from between your folds.

he coos when your puckered and clenching hole gushes from the new stimulation— calling out to him, begging to be filled and fucked. “yeah yeah, i promise,” he says under his breath distantly, stretching his thumb up to spread your pussy, groaning from deep within his chest at the raunchy view. it’s a picture of scandal— viscous, treacle-like tides of your nectar, like dew drops on an early morning, run down the length of your slit and drip to the desk below.

no one would believe kirishima if he told the world he had you like this, and part of him selfishly wants to keep you writhing against his hot and heavy dick all to himself, anyway. “god…ain’t i lucky, got the cutest lil’ cunt in the world right here. all mine.”

“all yours,” you slur back and trip over each word, throwing an ambrosial and avid look kirishima’s way— telling him without words how much you crave him. “move, please.” your hands take purchase on the curve of his taut ass so that you can lazily grind into one another— your hips rocking fluidly like a boat on waves. you feel like you’re going fucking insane beneath kirishima, but god’d make him a liar if he said he didn’t feel the same. he chases after your sweltering, soused sex like a dog after a bone— pushing forward when you pull back and vice versa.

“baby…y’so wet, can you hear that?” kirishima simpers, his dick slotting against you perfectly, both of you moving with an air of vigour and restlessness— grasping and tugging at one another wherever and whenever you can. “so nasty, so sweet. s’adorable!” he praises you over the crude sound of your sexes echoing into the night air, each sugar-coated word running through you like honey in your system.

he cups your neck while your eyes roll back in an attempt to keep your blurry gaze on him, ensure that you can watch the man fall apart on top of you, so you know he only gets like this for you. so you remember you can only get like this for him. “you look like you’re about to cum, darlin’… must be so close, huh?”

the feeling of your orgasm twists in your lower tummy, the pressure building right above your pelvis at a painfully slow pace. a gargled gasp and the pinch of your nails into his flesh will tell kirishima that— though he’d earned it, tapping the weight of his shaft against your spasming pussy to test his theory. “mhm…so you are about t’cum?” he guesses, the vibration from his condescending gripes rattling you beneath him. “gonna make a pretty mess of me, yeah?”

“uhuh,” you sigh out, voice increasing in octave while your tongue darts out to wet your lips and the tips of your ears start to burn. “‘m right there, s-shit! don’t stop—!”

“don’t cum.” one second, eijirou’s teasing your clit— dangling your orgasm right in front of you like a carrot in front of an animal, the next he’s plunging the monstrosity he calls a cock deep within your warmth— letting her welcome him home all while telling you to fight your body’s instincts. telling you not to cum. “you cum, ‘nd i fuckin’ stop, you got that?” the way he stretches you out is delicious, stinging at the rim of your entrance with a delightful twinge of pain. he’s lucky you’re so fucked out, wet too, otherwise you would have chewed him out for forcing his hefty girth all the way into you and without a condom too. “g’nna hold it f’me baby, promise it’ll feel so much fuckin’ better…”

losing his composure, the repairman sets a brutal tone to the pace of his hips— jack hammering into your poor swollen pussy without a second thought, groaning loud and proud over the desk that creaks under the burden of your animalistic ministrations. “k-kirishima!” you wail in surprise, tears biting at your waterline, spilling out onto your salt licked cheeks. “y-you’re bein’ unfair!” everything you say is hiccuped out and warbled, shaken up by the forceful thrusts kirishima gives to your lush and goey sex.

“you’re such a crybaby, gorgeous, i—fuck— only asked you to hang on fer a lil’bit longer,” he snaps back through harsh breaths, throwing his hips back and forth, back and forth— cock smearing it’s precum along the pleasure spots on your ribbed and overstimulated walls. “thought you wanted to be my good little baby, now you’re bein’ a brat? now you can’t wait? such a fuckin’ pitty,” this kiri is meaner, harsher, but still tops up your lungs with a blistering lust in explosive shades of red and orange.

though they hurt so good, it feels even better too, there’s not a moment where you don’t feel filled to the brim with bliss, the redhead’s huge dick repeatedly jamming against your g-spot, lightly pressing into your tummy— at least that’s what it feels like.

eijirou is bigger than you could have ever imagined, but you should have realised that from the moment you couldn’t wrap your hand around the entirety of his cock. he’s weighted, chubby against the sugar-glazed stickiness lining your gummy walls the further he presses into you. if you squeeze down on him, douse him in your candied essence then kirishima shakes like a leaf above you— a mountain brought down to his knees by an earthquake as his uneven breathing prickles at the shell of your ears. the raunchy sound crackling across your brain like electrical static.

usually, the redhead is a man of restraint, patience and kindness— but he’s done holding himself back from indulging in the treasure he’s been hunting for most of his life. you. “i wanna move, darlin’,” he seethes through gritted teeth with your bodies flush and close, pelvis to pelvis when he reaches the hilt. your cunt clamps down on him so hard that he feels like he can barely move, suffocated by the selfishness of your creamy hole. he’s barely keeping himself together at this point, pulled another step closer to the edge by every ripple of your sex around him. “s’fuckin’ tight, almost like you want me to fuck you open…”

something on your face changes, the slightest twitch of your features indicating your desperation. your brows are knitted, lips parted and doe eyes dazzling bright— it makes kirishima grin, lick his lips like he sees right through you, right down to the cells and DNA that make up who you are. make you a needy little bitch who’s hips buck up to coax more of his pulsating, scorching hot cock deep into your guts. “i want you t’do whatever you want with me, eiji,” you hiccup pathetically, oozing nectar down both his thighs and balls.

“what a sweet expression…” he mumbles fondly, using his brute strength to manhandle your calves up and over his wide and toned shoulders— the pair of you choking on pitiful groans with how deep he gets. “y’makin’ me wanna kiss you again.” with both of you positioned like this, kirishima drops his entire weight onto you and pulls his length back from the snugness of your heat, simultaneously diving back in for a lewd and uncoordinated kiss. you yelp at the loss, but your eyes roll back when his hips surge forward and kirishima fills you up to brim in one powerful thrust.

the desk squeals louder than you do, overpowered by the force that eijirou used to brutally pound into you— fat drops of his precum beading along your ripe insides, the ones that welcome him home with every push and pull of your sexes dancing together. your pussy froths at the base of him, as does your mouth as it slots against his— sharing moans and swapping spit, tongues rolling over one another’s. it makes you twitch, makes you scale your nails down his back possessively knowing that he waited this long to ravage you like this, even if he’d lied and hurt you just to get you to take his dick.

“s-say it,” you fight through the thick drool on your tongue and the tears that burn in your throat to whisper to him. at first, the redhead doesn’t hear you— hyper focused on his large hands spreading your pussy lips apart so he can spit onto your mound, watching the crude mixture disappear inside of you. “eijirou.” you grunt a little more sternly, speaking over the wet pap pap pap of his dick plunging in and out of you. “you’re mine. n-no one else’s. you’re only like this for me.” cupping his cheeks, you pin his blood ruby stare onto you, watching as it softens only just.

kirishima falters, the rhythm of his hips stuttering just a little. “‘m yours, darlin’,” he says genuinely, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as if to keep you from slipping between his fingers. “f’as long as you want me.” he pulls at your heart strings, pulls little whines from deep within your chest, eijirou kirishima stretches you both physically and mentally beyond your limits to the point where everything feels so good that it hurts. you’re afraid of what lies on the other end, what waits for you after all this blinding and mind numbing ecstasy is over— you don’t want him to stop.

“i gotta cum, sweetness… ‘m close,” he huffs against your shoulder, wisps of his red mane sticking to your damp, sweaty skin. he shifts, resting a hand against the wall behind you for leverage— ravaging you with the last of his energy driven into frantic, hungry movements. “you r’member what i said right? n-no fuckin’ cummin’ until i say so.”

gone is your darling kirishima, his warmth replaced by the beast of lies and lust. “fuck…’m so close, gonna cum all over this lil’cunt,” he drawls loud enough to wake anyone in a ten mile radius, swaying with you in sacriligeous dance, speeding up to chase his own high. almost leaving you forgotten and left behind.

“s-slow down eiji, i can’t— can’t hold back if you don’t—!”

you squeal out, but he doesn’t care, lost in his own pleasure. “maybe i’ll fuck it into ya, fill you so good…” the redhead simpers when you sieze up and trap him inside of you. the dam bursts before you can push him off, his fingers shakily snaking between your bodies to roll over your clit as he creams your insides— potent seed clinging to every ridge and soft spot of your inner pussy.

tainting you.

ruining you.

“s-shit. sorry baby.” he mumbles, never letting up or slowing down despite how sensitive he is— rubbing at you until you’re rendered weak and useless, your own release crashing over you in a sudden wave. “c’mon…let go for me… that’s it, good girl.”

you claw at his back hard enough to draw blood the entire time. you want him to hurt, just like he had done so with you.

“pretty girl,” his voice cuts through the fog settling over your mind. “let’s…let’s get you cleaned up, yeah? do you wanna shower or i could grab a cloth and—“

it amazes you, how he can switch between personalities so easily— make an emotional mess of you one second and treat you like you’re the only person in the world the next. “i just want to sleep, eiji,” you say numbly as he carefully sets you back down, as if you’re made of glass.

he frowns, for only a split second, replacing it with a tight lipped smile. “at least let me take you to the bathroom, i don’t want you getting sick.”

“fine, red.” you oblige, letting the man lift you into his arms to clean you up— an uneasy sleepiness taking over you as you follow his command, helplessly once again.

if there’s one thing you know for certain, it’s that eijirou kirishima has always been sweet.

perhaps it’s in his nature, hardwired into each individual fibre of his DNA, to be as kind and as caring as he— like he was genetically coded from conception to some incredibly gentle giant. a man who would cherish his partner or romantic interest above all else, or maybe it was down to his two mothers and the way they raised him.

but being a person who’s experienced all sides of the dice, who’s had to read into the eyes of others to know what they’re really thinking about you— you can feel that something is eerily off with kirishima. despite the night of passion that you’d shared, succumbing to days, if not weeks of want directed towards one another— you still feel somewhat afraid. he stays over most nights, and you fall into the same routine in the sheets, waking up to mornings of regret and staring at the ceiling when he kisses the pulse point on your neck. you feel scared. like he might try to rip your lifeline out every time he does.

eijirou is sweet, you have to remind yourself when he randomly squeezes your hip during the day, passing by to work on repairs on another part of the house. eijirou is not bad. he would never cause harm to you, but the thought still lingers in the back of your mind every time you catch him lingering around corners; or following you around the house only to surprise you with affections that don’t feel real— don’t feel like him. perhaps kirishima was never nice, never sweet or never good— and you’re only just seeing through his gentlemanly facade.

your rose tinted window is beginning to crack.

if he hadn’t been so avoidant of your questions about izuku, about what you need to know for your book, maybe you could see past the true parts of him that begin to show. for now, you shift uncomfortably underneath his coal furnace heated limbs after another night tangled in the sheets with kirishima, his arm is slung heavily over your waist as you struggle to find your phone amongst the mess you’ve created.

the device chimes with two notifications, though early in the morning and you grunt with both annoyance and success once you pull it out from beneath your pillows and the screen blares blue light into your face.

mina ashido ( publicist beloved ) at 9:45AM: hey love, just checking in to see how the draft for that first chapter is coming along, gonna need an update soon x

reminders app at 10:27AM: izuku’s anniversary.

your vision swims, that sickly feeling of grief flooding your veins like thick black tar— suffocating you from within your own body. the anniversary of your brother’s death has never slipped your mind like this before, it usually arrives weeks before the actual date does, a mental reminder creeping up on you like that wolf in the children’s fable of little red riding hood— but this year, you’d almost forgotten the event.

the tragedy that changed the trajectory of your life forever.

maybe you can place the blame on your mother, like you do for most things, blame her for not holding on long enough to see another torturous year without izuku by your side— torture her for a little longer with the loss of her golden child.

it can still be her fault that you forgot, if you try hard enough. after all, she’s the one who decided to kick the bucket, too, making it all about her grief— yet again.

“that’s today?” kirishima utters from over your shoulder, voice laced with sleep with his gaze settled on the digital glow from your phone. you’d failed to notice him wake up, too engrossed in the notification to feel his movements around you. “are ya okay?”

shaking your head, you shrug and allow yourself to use the redhead as your crutch and as your comfort— no matter how confused you might feel about him right now, you know that he’s been through this loss too and deserves some solace like you do. so you lean into his grip as you speak. “i had no idea that it was going to be today either,” your voice is the most devoid of emotion it’s ever been. at least to eijirou it is. you look empty, feel lifeless in his arms and he hugs you close to try alleviate the shockwaves of pain running through you. “i think… i think i wanna go see him. his grave.”

“you sure? ya want me to come along or somethin’?”

“no, i should go alone.” shaking your head no again, you turn to look eijirou dead in the eye. “it’s been a while since i’ve been and i’m sure you go to see him all the time.” eijirou stiffens and loosens his hold on you— almost as if he’s revealing a part of himself that he doesn’t quite want you to see. taking off his mask as the rose tinted glass above you both threatens to shatter once more. “but we can do something together when i get back, a family dinner? like the ones we used to have. i think izuku would like that.”

“for sure,” eijirou responds quickly, perking up again and pressing kisses up your arm in an attempt to keep you calm. you almost hate that it works, that he plays you for a fool even though you know he holds secrets above your head. little white lies that he feeds you just to keep you sedated— you hate that at this moment, it’s still not enough to steer you away from your sweet old eijirou kirishima. that you don’t distrust him enough yet, despite what your dead mother might have believed about him and your brother’s death. “i could cook his favourites after ‘m done re-paintin’ some of the rooms today.”

you seemed to have forgotten that eijirou stuck around out of convenience to work on the house and not just to keep you company and ravage your body night after night as a distraction from your discoveries or anguish— perking up too at the mention of paint.

“oh, you finally picked out colours then?”

“mhm, though some are mostly different shades’a green.”

“why green?”

“t’honour him, was his colour after all.” kirishima says simply, checking your face for permission for his idea.

the colour green is supposed to represent health, the shade of life. your brother’s colour. and you despise that, how it’ll be immortalised in the walls of your childhood home… because to you, none of it is true. green when associated with deku means death, it means sickness, it means envy of the happy life others around you lead when yours fell apart as soon as he was taken from you.

green walls wouldn’t even begin to honour the person you loved most.

but it was his. it was present in his glistening and curious eyes, his unruly and wild curly hair. it was definitely his.

so, you push through the pain and you pull yourself together enough to offer kirishima a half-hearted and appreciative smile— instead of screaming the protests your lonely heart sings.

“thank you eiji, i’m sure izuku would love that.”

kirishima insists that you take his truck up to the graveyard. it’s a little ways away out of town, up one of the rockier trails where lost loved ones can quite literally rest in peace. overnight, it had snowed up to your ankle, and there was absolutely no way your little sports car-convertible had the strength to pump itself uphill in this weather. you weren’t sure if it was worth the risk either.

your brother was a sentimental person, that much you remembered. he found something to cherish in almost everything he touched, appreciated gifts no matter how big or how small— just knowing that you’d thought about him was enough. that’s how you knew not to splurge on the overly priced bouquets of flowers in the whiteridge gift shop, how you figured something homemade for his grave would be better than the half-assed and plastic-wrapped wilted flowers sold in the convenience store next to liquid gold.

so, with this in mind, you stop kiri’s truck just outside of the woods— trudge through the thick snow and black ice in search of something…something thoughtful.

wildflowers.

you gather sweet violets in the shade of a rich purple, barren strawberry for their delicate white petals and the gentle blush pink of butterbur. each flower, growing wild and unruly at the foot of overarching pine trees or huddled together, reminds you of him— the way his curls couldn’t be tamed, the way his star-spotted cheeks still held warmth despite the bite of cold in the winter seasons. they all somehow connect back to izuku. you don’t know how long you spend picking flowers as you make your way up to the graveyard, your fingers growing stiff with the frosty air, your nose sore and chest a little tight from the oncoming cold you’re about to catch…but you can’t find it in you to care.

izuku would have loved this, you know that, you can practically hear the quiver of gratefulness in his youthful voice— see the smile stretching across his lips and the fresh stream of tears in his eyes. ‘f-for me?’ he would have said to you. ‘t-thank you so much!’ he would have added. because izuku was not a materialistic person, he was not one for gestures of grandeur; he'd always want something from the heart. you can only hope that your small bouquet of children from nature is enough for him, enough to make him feel loved even while he rests.

you love him so much, you miss him more and you even hate him just a little— for leaving you alone so soon.

by the time you reach the top of the hill, melted snow has infiltrated your boots and soaked through to your socks— you’re shuddering, you’re teary eyed but you’re there and a little more ready to see his stone. kirishima had told you that he hadn’t visited your brother in a while, so the headstone might have needed a little sprucing up but when you arrive, it’s already clean.

there’s not a cobweb in sight, it looks like it’s been scrubbed of any grime brought on by the countless types of weather that falls upon the little town of whiteridge and there’s a bouquet of flowers that look similar to the ones you clutch tightly in your right hand sitting on the ledge— a box of steaming pork katsu right beside it.

izuku’s favourite.

approaching the grave, you drag your fingers along the engraved cursive of your brother’s name— brows crinkling and face sagging with a muddled lour. a twig snaps behind you and between the snowflakes that fall hard but slow, you manage to make out tufts of straw blonde hair poking out from beneath a thick cable-knit hat and a pair of blazing crimson eyes. “hey,” as he gets closer, you can just about follow the movement of his lips as words form around them, the man from the bar towering over you— his hand with a flask in it, outstretched. “want some green tea? ya look like a shakin’ purse dog.” bakugou offers so casually as if running into him at the grave of your dead brother isn’t the strangest thing in the world.

a beat of silence passes, filled only with the wind's wails— a symphony of pathetic howls and cries that only your mother could recreate. when you don’t respond, katsuki shrugs with the rustling of his winter coat and unscrews the cap of his flask, pouring a cup of tea out for you and shoving it between your nimble fingers.

he almost thinks that you’re frozen in place, before the piping hot mug thaws at your state of shock. “what the fuck are you doing here?” you blink up at him with snowflakes in your lashes, a warm puff of breath condensating on your lips from how much your chest heaves— annoyance and bewilderment rattling about amongst the sparse oxygen in your lungs, from being so high up.

bakugou looks at you like he’s holding back— pained as he debates on what to tell you. “it’s deku’s anniversary—“

“izuku’s.” you snap back harshly, correcting him, snarling and baring your teeth like a provoked and angry dog. “first the bar, then my mom’s place and now here. it’s like you’re obsessed with my family or somethin’. you don’t— did you even know him? my brother?” it’s irrational the way you speak to him, using your heightened grief to lash out at a man you barely know. regardless, bakugou stands his ground— let’s you vent at him over the steaming drink he’d been so kind as to pour you. “it’s not like you were even friends—“

but every man has his limits, his invisible line before the point at which he snaps. “that’s a damn lie.” he barks back a little too honestly and with just as much force, words piercing through the blizzard and your force field of anguish. “we were more than friends…fuckin’ brothers and i—“ everything he had planned to say, dies on the tip of katsuki’s tongue, lost in the wind as if he can’t tell you anymore. as if he’s too far over that invisible line.

“and you miss him,” you finish for him, gesturing to the small display of flowers the blonde had set up— crouching a little so yours can join them. “how…how did you know him?” prying gently, you think back to the photos of them that your mother had hidden— he and kirishima and your brother— and take advantage of the vulnerability clinging to katsuki like the heavy snowfall.

“we met at school, like everyone else did.” bakugou fixes his blood red stare onto your other hand clasped around the mug and nudges at it after a few moments, prompting you to take a sip and not saying anymore until the temperate liquid slides down your throat and earthy tones spread across your tongue. he notices it then, the satisfied twitch of your face amongst the wretched snow, and continues— knowing that you’re warmed up, doing what izuku would have done for you.

“he was the only kid that spoke t’me after the town practically fuckin’ villainised me. a freakin’ kid.” he laughs bitterly, nervous fingers tapping the cool marble of izuku’s headstone. “not that it mattered, was the drug addict’s son, all of whiteridge hated that. hated me.” then he looks at you, right at you— as if he’s reading deep into your soul and picking out the parts of your brother he sees in you. “‘cept for deku. he showed me kindness, hung out with me when other kids wouldn’t…”

“he even got’cha ma t’look take care’a me from time to time. s’why i stayed with her after everythin’. we really were friends,” the blonde continues, telling you this like it was a promise. “we all were. ‘nd i shoulda done more t’save him.”

perking up, you grab bakugou’s wrist. “if you’d done what? what did you say?”

“n-nothin’,” he yanks his hand back, walls building back up and sheltering his grief stricken heat by pulling his sleeve back over it. “i just meant, that maybe if i had been there f’deku like he was from me…he wouldn’t have died. not like that.”

to hear someone else take the blame you’ve been bearing all these years, to be gifted with the knowledge that they’d been loved and cared for by izuku too is enough to bring you to tears— and you can’t even remember the last time you cried like this. crystalline and salty droplets strike a hot and stinging path down the apples of your cheeks as you realise. you are not the only person this town wounded in the war, you’re not the only person whiteridge viciously chewed up and spat back out. for once, you are not alone in the pain that you feel.

you might not have remembered bakugou from back then and you might have even played your hand in his suffering, but if he truly meant a lot to your brother, then he now meant a lot to you too. more than a hook-up. a friend.

“‘m sure izuku would be happy that you came to see him today, you even brought his favourite.” you offer, reaching out to the blonde in the storm of grief— letting him know that he has you too.

“was gonna share it with ‘im, yanno just fer old time’s sake,” bakugou quips in response, relieved to have the topic changed. he fiddles with the box of the convenience store version of your brother’s favourite curry and passes you the set of wooden chopsticks it comes with before closing his eyes and putting his hands together to thank whoever’s out there for the meal. “but ‘m sure the nerd wouldn’t mind if i split with ya too.”

bakugou peeks an eye open to look at you from the side, admiring how the blanket of settled powder white illuminates your features. “i don’t think he would mind, izuku loved to share,” mimicking the blonde, you clap your hands together and thank izuku for the food, for the memories and for bringing you someone to walk through the rest of your loss with. “and he had this weird habit of bringing people together,” snapping the chopsticks and rubbing them together, you take a mouthful of the food, humming at the warmth that embraces you— as if you’re being held by your brother himself. “in the most unconventional of ways.”

you let the blonde take the dish and utensils from you— parting your lips when he holds another bite to them before feeding himself. “like gettin’ us to sleep together, sweetheart?” he chuckles, light and full of life— as if he’s feeling the same pain relief you are.

“alright hot-shot, this is my dead brother you’re talking about.” you joke back, pulling another sweet symphony of laughter from bakugou. “what’s so funny, hah?”

“you mockin’ me, sweetheart?” katsuki cocks his head at you, swiping a thumb over the corner of your mouth— wiping away some leftover sauce.

“what if i am, sweetheart?”

at that, bakugou scrunches up his nose adorably, nearly killing you in the process, and pinches your cheek hard— tugging the flesh away from your face until you apologise between fits of giggles and squeals, begging for the blonde to let you go.

the rest of your visit to izuku’s grave is spent in much higher spirits. you understand now what it means to share your grief with someone else. yourself and katsuki spend hours by your brother’s side, reminiscing, laughing and crying— drinking through the green tea flask to warm your souls until it’s finished and your fingertips are close to freezing off.

taking your fingers between his, bakugou rubs the heat of his hands over yours— blowing some breath over them as he tenderly looks to you between the slowing snowfall. “yer freezin’ up, doll,” he murmurs, pressing his lightly chapped lips to the backs of your knuckles. “do ya need a lift back t’the house? i think deku would have my head from beyond the grave if i left’ya to walk back on yer own.”

your shoulders raise as you shrink in on yourself, not because you’re cold…but because of the way the blonde looks at you. as if you remind him of all things good in the world, as if you’re special and important and all things wonderful wrapped up in a gift with a pretty little bow. no one’s looked at you that way for as long as you can remember, not since your brother at least.

katsuki looks at you as if you matter.

“uh, no,” you start, clearing your throat as you shy away from his intense stare. “i drove out here.”

“in that shitty ‘lil sports car ya got?”

screwing your face up into a pout, you send a playful glare his way. “you leave duchess outta this!”

“pfft,” bakugou sucks his teeth, but grins at you and facetiously pets your head, nonetheless. “whatever.”

“i took kirishima’s truck on the way up,” the blonde grimaces, visibly wincing at your words. “he insisted because my baby duchess couldn’t handle the snow and iced up roads…but if you drove too, you could follow me back to the house?” you explain calmly, pulling bakugou’s attention back onto you and not the fact that you’re so buddy-buddy with the aforementioned redhead. “kirishima and i are having a dinner for deku and…we—i’d love it if you came to celebrate him.”

the man before you doesn’t respond, still eyeing you with that same intense and calculating stare before he shrugs, slinging his arm over his bent knee. “what’s in it fer me?”

you smile at that, remembering his words from your night at the hotel. “a free meal and spending some extra time with me?”

“fine,” he says, standing and outstretching his hand for you to take so that he can help you up. “sounds like a deal, princess.”

“hey darlin’, is that you? you back already? i was just about to finish up with the—“

kirishima’s voice fails him when he notices you standing in the doorway to the kitchen sheepishly, your jacket folded over your arms neatly while bakugou shrugs his off from behind you. subtle scents of fresh paint and spices that once filled the room quickly become mellowed out by tones of testosterone and quiet rage that both men exude. “hi eiji…i hope you don’t mind but i brought one of izuku’s strays over for dinner…” setting your clothes to the side, you step forward to greet the now brooding redhead, but he looks straight past you— his face hardened while his usually sparkling ruby eyes darken with the clouds of an oncoming storm. “eijirou…” you whisper with a little more firmness, only to be shrugged off once more.

“what is he doing here?” he asks, keeping his voice short despite the anger skimming just below the surface of his skin, particles of the emotion vibrating against kirishima’s vocal chords.

innocently, albeit mockingly, katsuki tilts his head to the side— rows of his pearly white teeth on display as he smirks slow. “you got cotton between ya ears or somethin’ red? she invited me over fer dinner,” he juts his chin out to gesture towards you as you turn away from kirishima, exasperated with both of their behaviours. “‘m here to celebrate izuku’s anniversary.”

kirishima rolls his eyes and tugs on the sleeves of his green-chequered button up even though they’re already rolled up snug on his convex biceps. “celebrate.” he throws down the towel that’s slung over his shoulder, snarling his words with an incredulous tone. “you weren’t even friends with izuku!”

“shut the hell up, y’don’t know a damn thing, red!” bakugou fired back, equally as riled up as the other man in the room— his own wrath bubbling over like the soup kirishima has going on the stove. “talkin’ shit about friendships like what you had with him even meant somethin—“

“oh, i call bullshit, bakugou.”

“yeah? ya sure that stencha shit ain’t comin’ from you?”

you feel as though you’re in the middle of a war zone, dazed and confused at the two people who seemingly meant a lot to your brother ( as far as the picture you had of them went ). they fire worded missiles and shrapnel insults at each other, not caring that you stand in the middle of no-man's land, seconds away from being hurt— too caught up in whatever conflict that’s brewed between them over the years.

“will you two just shut it?” you screech into the midst of the battle, eyes screwed shut and fists balled at your sides. “what’s the matter with you guys? arguing like this on the day your close friend died.” both men reach out to touch you, silenced and apologetic but you shake them off, inhaling deep to calm yourself down. “yanno, i have this nagging feeling that the two of you were supposed to mean something to izuku, that he cared for you both so…profoundly…and i have no idea what happened between you both, but i know that he would hate it— hate this.” opening your eyes slowly, you look between kirishima and bakugou with helplessness and a pleading gaze. “so please, just for today. can you try to get along for him? and if not for izuku, then for me?”

a tension lays thick and suffocatingly over the three of you, so much so that you’re sure not even the sharpest of butter knives would be able to cut through it. yet, slowly but surely, the redhead and the blonde nod their heads, grumbling out their agreements.

“yeah, of course, darlin’.”

“whatever ya say, sweetheart.”

though, both of them fail to admit that they’ve only agreed for a selfish reason— only agreeing because of you.

the rest of the meal goes without ( and you say this lightly ) a hitch, aside from the few snide remarks bakugou makes about kirishima’s cooking and the way that the taller redhead barges him back in response. they, at least, try to be on their best behaviour when you begin clearing up after your meal, three sets of dishes and cutlery all stacked up to the left of the sink with bakugou on washing and kirishima on drying.

“see,” you coo, watching the boys work dutifully side by side. “that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

passing a bowl to kirishima, katsuki shakes his hands of the apple-scented suds on them and grabs another, grumbling and he does so. “yeah, i guess,” he grunts with an irritated tick to his actions. “the food weren’t half bad, shitty hair.”

“neither are you, asshole.” the other responds, running a tea towel over the water droplets on the bowl.

“what’cha say t’me?”

“what’s the matter, bakugou, y’got cotton between your ears?”

sighing again, you find yourself stepping between them both before fists are swung and break up the fight with a bribe. “okay, okay, while you boys play nice, imma go sift through my mom’s stuff and see if i can find a place to call for dessert,” you tell them, pushing yourself from the dining table to leave the room. “be good.”

and as soon as you’re gone, the claws come out.

keeping his voice low, eijirou is the first to pounce, practically tossing the dish he was drying into a nearby cupboard to point an accusing finger in your other companion’s face. “the fuck is yer game, bakugou? what the hell are you doin’ here? we promised to never speak to each other ag—“ the bulking redhead hardly ever gets like this, hardly ever feels the urge to put his hands on someone else— thats not how he was raised…but looking at the blonde before him drives him crazy and up the walls, his piping hot blood carrying vexed hormones straight through the logic in his brain.

“you think i wanna be here, red?” katsuki snaps back and cuts his rival off with stinging words, bearing his fangs, showing the pink of his gums. “the only reason i came was for her.” that much is true, after everything that’s happened between them, katsuki bakugou wouldn’t have been caught within a ten mile radius of this red haired jerk.

“her? since when did ya give a fuck about anyone aside from yourself?” the whole idea is entertaining to kirikshima…the idea that the brooding blonde could possibly care for someone outside of his own being. it’s practically laughable, a joke so unheard of anyone would cackle the first time they heard it.

scrunching up his nose, nostrils flared—bakugou jeers back at the younger male, throwing the sponge he’d been using to wash up into the sink in a fit full of pent up irritation “yanno that’s real fuckin’ rich comin’ from you, asshole.”

eijirou hisses back, refusing to back down in this fight for who’s right. “fuck you, katsuki, you were never supposed to come back, you got some damn nerve bein’ around her.”

“well unlike you, she’s got more reason t’trust me over anyone else in this fuckin’ town! even over you. ya don’t deserve her, you don’t deserve half the shit you got.” katsuki’s words are like acid, singeing right through eijirou’s supposedly unbreakable skin. they hit him right where it hurts the most, in his strong heart that beats for you. the girl he’s loved since before he even really knew what that meant and what it entailed.

eijirou moves before he thinks, acting on instinct as his fist suddenly collides with katsuki’s face— stunning them both. bakugou barely has time to recoil, blood oozing thickly from his now busted lip before the redhead grabs him by the collar— seething directly in his face. “and you do?” he whispers through gritted teeth. “you’re nothin’ but a lowlife, a sad lil’ man livin’ on the out-skirts of town ‘cause no one’s given a fuck ‘bout’ya since your precious old lady died.” the back and forth between the two men never dies down, like a continuous game of tug of war with both of them pulling as hard as they can, giving the other burns from the rope in the process.

seeing who can cause the other the most pain.

“you take that shit back, eijirou. she was like a mother to us. you know that.” bakugou’s voice wobbles, near crying out like a wounded animal.

“ah, so you’d still defend the woman, even after everything she put her through.” your childhood friend, he’s talking about you and the suffering your mother put you through— but neither man can tell if it's because he cares for you, or if it's to put the blonde through another round of mental agony.

“and you’d still keep on lyin’ to her, even if it meant costin’ her feelin’s instead of tellin’ her the truth!” he barks venomously.

“what truth?” interjecting softly, you re-enter the kitchen with your phone in hand, the dial tone echoing from the device. “who’s feelings?”

bakugou is the first to say your name. “you’re back.”

“y-yeah, i found a place to order from…i just came to ask what either of you wanted,” you trail off. “what’s going on, you guys?’

you must look scared because both men relax their stances, worry cascading over two sets of features. “n-nothin’ gorgeous, we were just talkin’, s’all good,” kirishima says, using that sickly sweet tone that makes your skin crawl, the one he uses to play pretend and act like nothing’s wrong. “right, bakugou?”

the blonde looks over eijirou with disbelief, failing to fall for his nice guy facade where you usually do. “fuck you.” he spits, pushing kirishima away from him. “fuck this shit, ‘m leaving.”

“w-wait, katsuki!”

“i shouldn’t have even come here,” he brushes you off, grabbing his coat as he curses under his breath. “i knew this shit was a bad idea, can’t fuckin’ be around him when he lies like that.”

eijirou moves to defend himself, but you catch katsuki by the sleeve desperately, searching his face for answers. “eiji wouldn’t lie to me...and please, stop being vague, i just want to know what’s going on,” you exclaim, equally as desperate as when you’d grabbed ahold of him.

“get off’a me!”

“don’t talk to her like that, bakugou.”

“i thought i told you, shitty hair, fuck. off.” katsuki froths like a rabid dog, pulling away from you both.

reaching out for him again, you try your best to plead with the man from the bar. “what’s the truth? eijirou would never lie to me!”

sparing you a glance, his eyes bore deep into your soul, reading you— looking for something you can’t see. “do ya trust him?” you hang back before nodding ‘yes’ in response. “do ya trust me?”

your throat bobs, an uncomfortable soundlessness feasting on the oxygen in the room. do you trust him? “i-i…” you hesitate to admit your truth. “i hardly know you, bakugou. kiri…he— we grew up together, he’s always been there for me.”

“and where was he these last couple years, hah?” bakugou laughs coldly when you don’t reply. “exactly. but that don’t matter, does it? as long as he puts his dick in ya t’keep y’quiet at night, you’ll keep on believin’ whatever bullshit he feeds you, ain’t that right, sweetheart?” he sends a heated glare over your shoulder. “right, kirishima?”

“i think you need to leave.” the other male voices from behind you, stern, level.

bakugou looks back down at you, waiting for you to wake up, offering you his metaphorical hand to shake yourself from this nightmare…but no matter what suspicions you hold to kirishima— you know him. you’ve known him all your life, and you’d be a fool to pick a stranger over him.

bakugou takes your silence as his answer, and scoffs in sad mixture of disappointment and amusement. “fuckin’ figures. yer just like ‘em, everyone else in this shitty fuckin’ town.” he turns on his heel, marching out of the room before you can even stop him, slamming the front door to your mother’s house as he makes his own way out. “i hope yer makin’ the right choice,” he adds as he goes, the words echoing down the halls eerily. as if its a warning.

eijirou is quick to swaddle you in his candied, overbearing affections, wrapping his arms around you from behind— his chin resting on your forehead while you tremble from hurt. from fear. “‘m sorry, pretty girl,” he says, breath just tickling the shell of your ear. “i shoulda warned ya, kept ya away from him. that bakugou’s no good. the whole town knows that.”

ripping yourself from your childhood friend’s grip, you glower up at him— the look on your face is enough to put him six feet under. “what makes you think anything the town thinks of people is the least bit true?” you hiss, unimpressed.

“woah, hey! i’m not the bad guy here…” kirishima throws his hands up in defence, confusion taking residence on his face— evident in the crease between his brows and the downturned corners of his lips. “his parents did drugs yanno, he was practically raised by himself! you don’t know what kinda things guys like him get up to!”

“i practically raised myself! you have no fucking clue, eijirou! no clue what it was like for me or for him!” you’re screaming now, hot all over— so angry that you can feel the lump in your throat telling you that you’re about to cry. “does that make me bad? does that mean i deserved the way this town treated me?”

“n-no, darlin’ that’s not what i meant!” he tries to coo at you, tries to hold you again— but all you feel is disgust, betrayal towards him.

your head pounds, a migraine brewing at the back of your mind like a thunderstorm over the horizon. maybe everything you’d found, the letters and pictures from your mother had been a sign. a warning. trust no one, believe nothing but your intuition. “i want you to go.” deadpanning, you circle the sides of your head with two fingers in order to alleviate its ache. everything both bakugou and kirishima had said has your mind a whirlwind of a mess, like the aftermath of a hurricane and just having eijirou near makes your head hurt even more. “i need you to go.”

“baby…please, i didn’t mean it. t’mess this all up. what i said…i—“ the repairman attempts to reason with you, but you resist yet again.

“please!” you scream until you feel like your throat is bloody and raw, tears glimmering in your rain-clouded eyes. “just leave me the fuck alone!” from here, kirishima is quick to gather his belongings as you continue to scream and scream, following after him. “don’t come back, don’t call unless you’re going to be useful and fix this damn house instead of lying to me!”

you don’t stop yelling until he’s out of your childhood home, in his truck and halfway down the drive.

you don’t stop crying until you know that he’s gone for sure.

nothing stops hurting until you crawl into your mother’s bed, wrap yourself in the sheets that smell like her and fall asleep to the warm memories of her, yourself and izuku back in your happier days.

and you swear, right before you drift off, you feel them both embracing you— telling you that the truth will come out and that it’ll all be okay.

some questions are best left unanswered.

its a common saying that you used to believe. you’d scream it at your mother all throughout your teenage years, begging her to open her eyes and see that you were suffering behind her cloud of desperation to uncover what had happened to your brother. but the longer you spent in the clutches of white ridge, the less faith you had in the saying— there were too many questions, too many puzzle pieces that fit together to paint the perfect picture. something happened here, that both kirishima and bakugou refuse to tell you, despite all the signs and odd behaviours that lead to them.

curiosity killed the cat.

you think you understand that one a little better now. your inquisitiveness and investigative nature will be the death of you. you need to find out what truly happened to izuku midoriya, the urge to uncover any ounce of the truth spreading through your body like a virus, your bloodstream teeming with the deadly infection known as said curiosity. it rots at your brain, sitting at the back of your mind like a heavy weight that stops you from concentrating on your original task. your book.

a few deys after your dumpster fire dinner for deku, mina had sent you the edits she’d made on the beginnings of your transcript. it wasn’t enough, she’d told you more or less, you needed something more captivating and in depth. your work just wasn’t enough. the thousands of words you’d poured your heart and soul into, every little raw and scalding detail of your early years deemed uninteresting in a matter of small and yellow highlighted notes. no matter how much digging you’d done, no matter how many pictures of them boys you’d uncovered— it wasn’t enough.

“fuck that,” the cursor on your laptop and google doc flashes at you mockingly, daring you to type up more words that’ll only be obliterated by your publicist. you can’t write like this, with so much on your mind so you slam the lid of your device shut and rush yourself to get ready. there’s somewhere that you need to be, some questions that you need answered, no matter how much of a risk the truth may cause to you.

to your destination, you take more hidden photographs that you’d uncovered beneath your mother’s mattress, ones of eijirou and katsuki, their arms around the shoulders of your shorter and youthful older brother. their smiles had been wide, eyes innocent and much unlike what you see in them today. on the back of the glossed papers, you find hand written messages— a list of belongings owned by your brother that had never been returned, friendship marks of tiny hearts on their inner wrists that indicate a lifelong bond.

a bond that’s seemingly fallen to pieces, leaving you with clues to solve the mystery the shattered glass has left behind.

anxiety blossoms in the soils and flesh of your chest cavity once your car pulls up outside the whiteridge police station, it grows faster than you can keep up with, fertilised by the blood rushing through your ears and your levels of cortisol, the stress hormones, that spike. you remember it vividly, memories of frequent visits and damp questioning rooms and jingling handcuffs rush forth in your mind— making you swing open the door to the driver’s side in fear that you might throw up out of nervousness.

you feel your inner-child recoil with a hunger to escape with each step you take into the police building, remembering the hours you spent sat against PVC covered chairs in the waiting room, listening to your mother sob and plead for investigators to re-open izuku’s case.

you think about how she died without being able to rest, without bringing justice to her son.

you feel guilty for putting the blame on her for all these years too.

with a shaky breath, you approach the front desk and the officer behind it, coughing to grab their attention. “hi,” you mumble your name softly, leaning against the cool varnished wood for some relief that combats the world spinning around you. “i need to look at a case file? whatever you have on the midoriya incident.” you give him the date too, stumbling over the exact day and month.

“sorry lady, but that case has been closed for years,” the officer, officer monomania, drawls— grey eyes dragging lazily up and down your frame. “since before i started workin’ here, and we don’t give out scoop t’primp ‘n proper city journalists like you.” that same feeling of sickness from before crashes over you like a strong tidal wave and you grip the ledge of the desk to steady yourself. you wonder if that was how your mother felt, denied time and time again the opportunity to seek rectitude for her eldest child.

“i’m not a journalist, i have rights to the case,” you say simply, trying to keep the edge off of your trembling voice— this town has done you no good, chipping away at the strong walls you’ve built to protect yourself from all the harm it’d caused you while you were young. you may be from the city, you may not look like you’re from the quaint life of quiet little whiteridge, but this had been your home, and you’d be damned if you let it wear you down again. withhold the truth from you again.

standing tall, eyes darkening— you lower your voice to a bone chilling sneer. “if looking at me isn’t enough indication of who i am, then you’re going to have to listen to me very carefully, officer monoma.”

“i am one of this country’s best selling authors, the cost of my car parked right outside this building is probably worth more than every person in this shitty, filthy little town alone.” you’re tired of the world and the way in which it's treated you up to now, so you say fuck it all and direct all your rage at the one person who stands between you and your truth in this moment. “you don’t even want to know how much is in my bank account right now, and how little of a dent suing you and this place will make in my earnings. so i suggest, you take your ass to the back, get me the case file and whatever belongings you’re holding from these pictures and bring them back to this prim ‘n pretty fuckin’ author. y’got that?”

monoma visibly shrinks underneath your steeled gaze. “y-yes ma’am.”

you feel like you can finally breathe again once you’re back in the safety of your car, duchess, whipping out a bottle of water from the glove compartment and chugging it back just to wash the taste of bile out of your mouth. you can feel the weight of izuku’s case file sitting in your lap, scared to open it, scared to see what you might find— his belongings that they’d found at the scene fitting into a small ziplock bag, wrapped in a brown paper envelope.

using careful fingers, you flip open the file— eyes skimming over the report, the autopsy and the witness statements. it tells the same story that had been relayed to your mother all those years ago. izuku midoriya, nearly two decades ago, had wandered into the woods just outside of west whiteridge unaccompanied at mid-day, and passed away alone after falling into a nearby river. the autopsy revealed a broken ankle, blood bond markings on his inner wrist that were freshly made the day of his death, and his shirt and accessories tucked away into a nearby bush.

final ruling: accident.

the contents of the ziplock bag reveal just that of the report, and you feel like your whole world has come crashing down. izuku knew how to swim, izuku was smart— he wouldn't have just wandered off injured and exposed himself to danger like that. not on his own.

that’s not who he was, and it wasn’t fair for the world to treat him that way.

with the evidence now in your possession, and every possible route or bridge to the truth burned and fizzled out, you make your way back to the house at top speeds— fuelled by your emotions, aching to get back into bed and scream into your pillow about how unbalanced the world seems. however, on your journey home, you notice a familiar looking jeep, one that you know belongs to a certain blonde who you haven’t seen or heard from since the night of deku’s dinner.

you know that the abrupt ending to such a pleasant night had mostly been your fault, taking kirishima's side over bakugou’s was a bad move, especially after the scene you’d walked in on. they were both equally to blame.

for the millionth time since you’d arrived in whiteridge, you move before your brain can catch up— turning your steering wheel so that your car blocks up the middle of the empty, icy country road and bakugou is forced to come to emergency stop. “are ya fuckin’ insane?” he yells, hauling himself from his driver’s seat and slamming the jeep door shut with force. “i coulda hit ya, or worse, killed ya!”

is it weird? that even when katsuki’s fuming he’s one of the most beautiful people you’ve ever seen? cherry red eyes suddenly fiery while he marches over to your car, your ribcage dramatically lifting and dropping with your ragged breathing from behind the wheel.

“k-katsuki,” you breathe out when he opens your car door from where you’ve left it unlocked for him.

“jesus sweetheart,” his gaze sweeps over your face, eyes brimming with concern as all of his anger dissipates just from taking in your teary expression. “have you been cryin’? why the fuck’ve you been drivin’ so recklessly?”

his calloused fingers brush over the swell of your wet cheeks, and instinctively, you lean into his touch. “i wanted to apologise for the other night…i shouldn’t have put so much pressure on you and…” your voice tapers off, still confused by katsuki’s dynamic with eijirou and where they might stand today.

he shakes his head, offering you a soft smirk. “don’cha worry about that, we shouldn’t have put’ya in that situation,” shrugging, bakugou nudges a stray tear from your cheek with his knuckle.“‘m skippin’ town anyways, so none of that matters anymore.”

this makes you perk up, and not in a good way. “y-you’re leaving whiteridge?” you grab at katsuki’s sleeve just like you did that night, a silent plea for him to stay and not leave you behind.

“yeah, s’like kirishima said, i ain’t worth shit ‘round here.”

that's not true, bakugou has to know that. he was kind where the world had chewed him up and spat him right back out, he was honest where others were cruel and fed you lies on a silver spoon…and most importantly, he cared. for you, for your mother and for your brother.

he had to know, that at least to you, bakugou was worth the world and then some.

“you’re…you mean something to me, katsuki,” your hand on his wrist shoots up to his collar, tugging him down. so fast that bakugou has to balance himself with one hand on the roof of your car— his lips falling to meet yours in a gentle, pillowy kiss. having him like this, compared to the fast paced and rough nature of the sex you’d had before is like walking on clouds.

he tastes like caramel apples, feels like heaven and slowly but surely, he relaxes in your hold— noses brushing and his long golden lashes brushing against the apples of your cheeks.

when the need for oxygen becomes too much for you to bare, you look at him yearly, brushing your own thumb over his kiss-swollen lips. “i-i like you, and i’m thankful to you for being my support this past month,” you hum, sniffing a little from the cold. “don’t forget me when you leave, kay?”

“how could i ever forget the girl at the bar that night, hah?” katsuki responds like its a promise, resting his forehead against yours.

déjà vu is a funny thing.

as soon as your back hits the inside of the door to your mom’s place, you feel as though you’re reliving your first night in whiteridge again. katsuki’s all over you, having followed you back here after your rushed confession— both of you deciding to say fuck it all and have one last hurrah. he floods your senses, he’s all that you can taste as his tongue sloppily glides over yours.

he’s all that you can smell, the scent of burning sugars filling your nostrils— poking at the flame burning in your lower belly. his low moans vibrate around in your skull erotically, between your own gasps for air and the rustling of your clothes.

you feel him everywhere, his hands on your waist, the back of your neck and up your skirt, groping at the flesh of your ass as bakugou hoists you up, lips still melting against yours like hot candy, and carrying you to the living room.

in a pile of limbs, you collapse onto the couch which squeaks underneath your combined weight. katsuki briefly pulls away from the alluring prison of your kiss— he would have been destined to a life sentence if he didn’t— and rest his head against your shoulder for a moment.

katuski’s breath is balmy against your skin at the nape of your neck, and if you focus your fuzzy brain hard enough, you can feel his lashes there too. the steadiness of your pulse lulls katsuki closer, the blonde descending on your neck and whining at the taste of your skin spreading across his tongue. the man’s mouth is right against the column of your throat, and he’s embarrassed to admit, he’s had your body committed to memory from the very first night he’d touched you— knowing exactly which spot made you whine and which one had you arching into him too.

there’s an odd sense of tenderness about katsuki as his teeth graze your skin to paint deep shades of purples and blues against it— wet tongue lolling over any bruise he leaves.

he treated you like a flower left to fend for itself out in the cold, covering you with the heat of his muscled body while your nails scratch down his back and fingers move up to curl in the blonde baby hairs on his nape. “k-katsuki,” the syllables of his name tumble from between your lips wistfully as knocks at your front door echo through the shell of the house. “katsuki…should probably get that, s’probably kiri—“

bakugou who had above you for a moment, his palm resting against the arm of the couch swoops down before you’re able to finish your sentence, delving deep into your mouth, his lips moving feverishly as if to leave one last claim on you. “he can fuckin’ wait, can’t he sweetheart?” he chuckles into the sweltering ambience of the room, licking into your mouth to swallow any protests you may make.

kirishima finds his way into the house anyway, using the spare key under the plant pot to get in as he usually would if you had overslept on days that he came for repairs. or, more recently, when you’d started ignoring him after the dinner incident. he hadn’t expected you to let him in for his job today, but he did plan on apologising for the way he’d treated you up to now.

that is until he catches you mewling on the couch pinned down by the man he hates more than anything in this world, katsuki’s hand practically half way down your panties, rubbing one off on you from under your skirt.

“what the fuck—?”

“don’t get pissed ‘n calm the fuck down, red. you’ll have yer chance with ‘er once i skip down s’dont fuck it up.” bakugou moans into your mouth, showing off a little as he sucks on your sucking on your syrupy tongue. “so either fuck off or come join us, she’d love it. she needs it. don’cha baby, s’fuckin’ pent up, poor thing.”

stepping into the room, kirishima reaches the pair of you in three short strides— using a rough thumb and forefinger to tilt your head over to face him, luring you into a slow and sultry kiss with the flavour of a bad decision. the blonde continues to draw shapes into the crotch of your panties, faster and faster to get you panting and drooling into the redhead’s mouth. your fingers curl in two sets of hair, keeping both of them close to ground yourself and when kirishima finally gives you the chance to breathe, you shyly push their heads together as the temperature of the room rises to a scalding heat.

bakugou makes the first move, cupping the sharpness of eijirou’s jawline and bringing him into a similarly sinful lip lock, dragging the tip of his strawberry tongue over the seam of the other man’s plump lips. “gonna let me in, red? g’nna lemme kiss ya?” he slurs with hooded eyes and a predatory gaze.

“go ahead blondie, ‘m waitin’,” kirishima goads in response once they’re a breath’s width apart, not giving bakugou any time to dwell on the nickname before they’re kissing welty, all teeth and tongue in an uncoordinated rhythm.

“f-fuck,” you whimper between the two of them, thighs squeezing together as if to hide the slickness pooling in the middle of them— far too turned on at the sight of them messily making out in front of you.

bakugou laughs at the sound, breaking away first. “she enjoyed that, look atcha pantin’ so fuckin’ nasty, hah?”

“don’t be mean bakugou,” kirishima reaches between his thighs, giving katsuki’s growing hard-on a playful squeeze. “you obviously liked it too.” vivid and merlot eyes drip into something dangerously dark as the redhead palms your other lover faster and faster— dragging salacious moans from between stubborn lips with each precise touch. “yer rock hard blondie, practically drippin’ all over my fingers. c’mere darlin’, feel what a mess you’ve made him.” giving katsuki some time to breathe, eijirou guides the three of you to sit up— your frame pressed between the heat of the two large men before he guides your smaller hand to the erection twitching in the middle of the shorter man’s thighs.

“feel that? all that from just kissin’ ya doll.” there’s a hint of a smirk tied to the dips and dives of eijirou’s voice as if he’s mocking bakugou, gluttonously drinking up the way you gently pull bakugou’s cock out from his rough denim jeans— a wet patch formed at the crotch from where you’d smeared your pretty panty clad pussy all over him earlier.

now that you have him in your grasp, you can already tell the difference between the two and their cocks. where bakugou is longer, his tip a shade of terracotta though slightly flushed from him being so aroused, kirishima is chubbier, his tip usually a bright red— harder to stretch around in a way that causes you to remember his delicious burn when pushing into you. bakugou is pretty and kirishima is monstrous. both make your mouth water.

glancing over to the blonde, you drag your soft fingertips over the slit on his bulbous cockhead— rubbing a thumb through it a little more confidently when he exhales deep through his nose and his tip lip twitches upward, his eyes fluttering shut. “shuddap, kirishima,” he snarls, though the insides of his mouth are coated with a quiet moan just for you. “feels good baby, such a tease. you gonna keep playin’ with me or are ya gonna get me off like the good lil’girl i know you can be?”

the air of nonchalance about him, despite how bakugou throbs in your hold, has your stomach in desire laced knots— an innate urge to make him feel good taking over you. “fuck that’s good,” he mumbles, opening one eye to look at you, a carnal lechery simmering between the flecks in them as you slowly start to flick your wrist and jerk him off. you smile to yourself after spitting down onto his dick, watching it bob in response before the frothy mixture disappears into his pre that helps guide your hand up and down his shaft.

“awh, come now gorgeous,” kirishima sighs darkly from your other side— again using a soft touch, which contrasts starkly with his rough hands, to pull your focus onto him by cupping your chin. “can’t let the two of you have all the fun. i want some attention too,”

eijirou makes you watch as he fiddles with his belt buckle to get to his own length— he doesn’t kiss you like you want him to, holding it against you until his girth is free, pinkish tip bleeding with milky arousal as he stands tall and proud, smearing precum against his shirt that covers his tummy. the redhead is cruel as he brushes his lips over yours, goading you, coaxing you to take a hold of him and give him the same treatment as a blissed out katsuki on your other side.

you fist what you can— tiny fingers barely fitting around the entirety of kirishima… but lewd squelches from both of your hands around two cocks only serves to spur you on, making lust bubble hotly under your skin. you alternate between the two boys, thumbing at katsuki’s slit while you squeeze eijirou, drinking up their moans and the way their hips keen into your touch— giving them attention in different ways. and even with them both a wreck between your sticky fingertips, the duo still find ways to dominate you…make you feel like a treasured fuck toy even though they’ve yet to touch you themselves.

kirishima noses up the side of your neck, as if the very scent of you drives him wild and sucks his claim into your skin, grazing you with the tips of his pointed pearly white teeth. “don’t stop now, angel,” he rasps, the hint of a smirk rippling throughout his voice when your breath hitches at the sultry contact. “keep goin’…makin’ us feel so good,” you can’t help the way your body twitches to follow his command, speeding up your gentle fists around them, both sets of your knuckles coated in stringy opaque. “would…fuck, hate to see what happens if you get too distracted…”

the redhead’s mouth is back on yours before you can register his shift in movement, tongue dragging over the chapped skin of your lips, twisting around your own. “thas’ right baby, s-shut him up…mmm fuck, feels fuckin’ good,” katsuki slurs, blending his words together messily. he’s red in the face and hot to the touch, fiercely bucking his hips in an attempt to keep up with you jerking him off. the softness of your palm messes drastically with the chemistry of the blonde’s brain— altering it’s levels of dopamine until they’re sky high and katsuki feels as if he’s just high off of wanting you. “y’talk too much red, why can’t ya just moan pretty like her, hah?”

crimson cut and covetous eyes flutter open, drifting over to where you play with kirishima too and bakugou would be lying if he said the sight didn’t make him hornier, the glint of your hands covered in arousal causing him to swallow thickly. eijirou grins against your lips, reluctantly letting you free from his sinful hold to cock his head over at your blonde lover. “katsuki, you’re hard as a rock just from watchin’ me with her, d’ya really need to hear me moan for you too?”

“bet you’d sound like a pretty lil’ bitch too.”

“alright,” kirishima hums, finding your mouth again and hisses into it— as if relieved to be making out with you once more. this time he presses his fingers between your thighs, prying them open with a growl when you resist a little. “c’mon sweet thing, lets put on a show f’him, yeah?” the biology of your body tells you that you have no choice, blindly following his domineering lead and falling in tune with eijirou as he guides you into lifting your hips and tears off your skirt and panties in one go. “yeah that's it… you’re so cute, doll, moan a little, tell us who’s makin’ you feel good…”

at first, he spreads your swollen pussy lips apart to give your other lover a nice, nasty view of your juices that slide between them— his eyes goad you, tell you what to do as you quiver and the pad of his thumb slips over your budding clit. “k-katsuki! f-fuck!” you cry out, like the song of an angel, at the same time bakugou groans from deep within his chest.

“look at you baby, grindin’ all over red like that, so fuckin’ pretty,” his breath stutters, cock throbbing and spurting pre in your hold.”‘nd what ‘bout you, red? gonna whine like that for me too?”

kirishima only scoffs, spitting onto your dripping mound and watching as the frothy mixture slowly slides between your folds. he’s quick to gather it up before it hits the couch or your ass, dragging his fingers over your hole as if to push the mixture into you. the very feeling makes you jolt, one hand jumping up and into tousled red locks— pulling on them hard to ground yourself during your spiralling desire and neediness. all the while, you never let up on pleasuring eijirou, though your fist tightens around kirishima’s shaft, as if to mimic your fingers clenching down hard on his thick fingers working their way inside of you.

“katsuki!” eijirou quite literally whimpers, the sound high-pitched and breathy— surprising both you and bakugou.

bakugou hums cruelly, content with the pair of you calling out for him, toying with one another like cute little sluts just for his amusement. “both of ya need me that badly, huh?” he coos, pulling your hand off of his dick to suck your tiny fingers into his mouth. both you and kirishima watch like dazed animals as katsuki cleans you up, moaning hungrily at the taste of himself. “wanna see you play fer a ‘lil longer. eijirou, use your fingers…and you sweetheart,” the blonde recluse leans in real close, the scent of him mingling with the obvious tones of sex in the air clearing your mind of reasonable thought. “touch yourself f’me…”

the repairman at your side wastes no more time, sinking from beside you to his knees on the floor. kirishima swirls his digits over your entrance once more, threading your slick between them with a hearty grouse tainting his lips. “katsuki, he murmurs, looking up at your face from below. “she’s cryin…” and he’s right, silver tears brim in your waterline as eijirou slips a finger into you and immediately curls it against your slippery walls.

katsuki’s latched onto your neck now, marking over wherever kirishima might have with jealousy-rich blood pumping through his heart. “she can cry all she wants, but it better be from pleasure, red. want you makin’ her see fuckin’ stars,” he warms between licking and sucking at your salty skin.

kirishima marvels at the creamy, viscous mess growing between your thighs— amazed at how wet and tight you are while he pushes another finger in alongside the first. he’s eager to please, to explore you, blunt tips brushing along your most sensitive spots and even landing on your g-spot almost instantly.

“she takes me so well too, always does. there you go, darlin’… just like that,” you can’t tell who it is that krisihima is talking to you, whether its you, your puffy salacious sex or katsuki who’s mumbling sweet nothings and praises into your ear. but no matter which way you look at it, the desperate lilt to his voice seems to have only one purpose, and that’s to drive you insane.

bakugou can’t help but laugh in amusement as you fall apart between the two of them— exploding into a million tiny pieces and letting them put you back together. kirishima pumps his fingers in and out clenching hole while the blonde wraps his hand around your wrist and ushers your hand towards your clit. “touch yourself baby, wanna see you fall apart.” he hums, tongue darting out to wet his lips while you slowly trace shapes on your pleasure nub, blossoming for the boys like a spring flower.

“k-kats…e-eji,” you gasp at as the pair of them pick up their pace, bakugou using your hand to smack down on your sticky bud while kirishima bites down on your inner thigh as if its a fresh fruit for the taking. you bruise, soft like a peach, and he’s quick to soothe the pain sprinkled into your bloodstream with a roll of his greedy tongue over the inflamed area. “i can’t…”

“yes, you can.” the redhead grunts menacingly, the carmine in his eyes darkening with bloodlust while your cunt dribbles and drools into the seat of his palm. you’re close, he can practically taste it— salivating at the scent of your honeyed sex. “gonna cum for us, darlin’?”

your body flashes with heat, like you’re being swept up by an inferno and all you can do is nod weakly in reply— gasping for air, desperate for oxygen to fill your lungs instead of the smoky fragrance that the two men exude. “why don’cha let go for us, sweetheart? be messy, wanna fuckin’ see it.” bakugou adds on, tempting you over the edge with sadistic dip to his tone of voice. it’s low, hot against the shell of your ear and you find yourself unable to resist, giving in to katsuki as well as kirishima.

eijirou scissors his fingers one more time, just enough to get you where you need to be, and then you’re cumming— release crashing over you like a vicious wave amidst a raging storm. pleasure pulls you under, and your body is rendered useless between the two beefy men. shaking, writhing and trembling as bakugou slaps down on your pulsating mound to help guide you through the rest of your high.

“fuck…that’s hot,” kirishima comments wistfully, watching your orgasm trickle down his thick fingers, soaking your thighs. “i gotta…wanna…taste—“

a hand on his forehead pushes the thirsty redhead back, his blonde counterpart snarling in warning. “nuh-uh. s’my turn, shitty hair.”

the next few moments are a whirlwind, your mind still spinning and still heavy from cummings just seconds ago. you’re lifted into a pair of well-built arms, your face tucked into a sturdy chest and you’re not far gone to know who is who. footsteps trek along the creaky floorboards of your childhood home, and you’re familiar enough with the sound to know where you’re headed.

the bedroom.

when you finally come to, eyes fluttering open— bakugou is lying fully naked on his back at the head of your bed, his expression almost as needy as kirishima’s was earlier. “crawl t’me, baby, come sit on my face.” he purrs, chest rising up and down with ragged breaths as the vines of fervour have wrapped themselves around each of his ribs, taking root deep in his lungs.

before you have a chance to respond, kirishima ( who had been holding you this entire time ), unceremoniously tosses you onto the bed to join the blonde— nodding his head over to him. “go ahead, be a good girl for us.”

you make your way up the sheets, tossing off your top and shuddering as your now bare skin brushes up against the heat of katsuki’s. he welcomes you with a dirty, uncoordinated kiss before guiding you up to and over his face with a pair of rough palms on the globes of your ass. grabbing the headboard, you take a peek down at the ravenous man beneath you, nervousness flickering over your sweat-licked features.

“what’cha waitin’ for, sweetheart?” he mumbles, squeezing your flesh between his fingers in encouragement. “y’don’t think i can take it?”

shaking your head, your lips part in protest. “n-no, ‘m just—“

“sit on him,” eijirou barks at you like its an order, looking up from stripping himself of the rest of his clothes. “he can handle it.”

it amuses bakugou, how thin the other man’s patience has worn and he nips at your inner thighs to test the waters. “you heard shitty hair. sit.” neither of them give you much choice after that, katsuki wrapping his arms around your waist to drag you down onto his awaiting mouth. the entirety of his tongue presses flat against your slit, sucking the juices from them as he groans— sending vibrations straight up to your clit. “god…kirishima, she’s so fucking wet down here.”

“yeah?” kirishima responds huskily, kneeling on the bed behind you both just as you start to roll your hips back and forth across the blonde’s eager mouth. “how does she taste, kats?” the bed dips underneath his weight, with eijirou swooping down between katsuki’s thighs this time, instead of yours. “is she sweet? i wouldn’t know… you wouldn’t let me…”

his words taper off, drowned out by his own gagging as bakugou bucks into the heat of his mouth in surprise. “thas’ a cheap shot, red.” he damn near howls, stuttering as he traces the tip of his tongue over your slit, spelling out his own name and slurping on your lower lips. “fuck thats it… quit yer talkin’ and use that mouth on me.” when kirshima licks, bakugou sucks and each time, a symphony of salacious moans bouncing off the bedroom walls. katsuki alternates the pressure of his tongue against your clit, dragging the tip of it around the hood of the tiny nub in lazy circles before he forces it past your entrance as far as he can go.

high pitched moans that burst through the saliva-slicked seams of your lips mingle with eijirou’s gargles from deep throating katsuki, bobbing his head up and down in a steady rhythm before he uses an arm to pin the blonde’s hips to the sheets below. “j-jesus, bakugou,” he pulls off of him with a layer of precum coating his tongue, aggressively spitting it down onto katsuki’s seedy cockhead and making it shine. “you tryna choke me t’death or somethin’?”

“w-what? can’t handle it red?” even katsuki struggles to get his words out, ruby framed eyes disappearing into the depths of his skull between the feeling of eijirou pressing their cocks together and you, gushing all over his lips and chin, glazing in him in your arousal. “thought you were a big boy, thought you could— mmph!”

“shut up,” you wail, tears threatening to spill once more as you force your hips down on the blonde’s face and muffle his speech— ecstasy rolls off of your body in waves, hypnotising the two men who’ve only come together to make you feel good and reach high heavens. “both of you talk too much… i wanna cum.” you gasp out, katsuki’s tongue now wrigglingly against your ribbed walls, making the knot in your lower stomach twist and twist until your insides burn with pleasure. “want us to cum, together.”

chuckling from behind you, kirishima makes a fist around both his and bakugou’s sopping lengths— creating a makeshift fleshlight for the both of them to fuck into. he alternates his grip to mimic the clenching of your raw, puffy mound and his grin broadens against the bare skin of your shoulder blade, causing goosebumps to rise across the expanse of it. “i don’t think you’re in the position to be makin’ any demands, gorgeous,” he coos, slowing down his words as if to dumb them down for you. after all, the way katsuki sucks on your pussy, languidly rolls his tongue between your folds is rendering you thoughtless. your only feedback being made up of pitiful mewls. “but i think your little friend here wants to cum too. and i, for one…well, ‘m hardly holdin’ back here.”

calculatedly, eijirou shushes a thumb through katsuki’s milky slit— spreading the beading precum across both of their cockheads. this earns you the vibrations of katsuki’s whine against your juicy pussy, and the stimulating sound of the redhead’s breath faltering. all you can do is take what your boys give you, the heat of your bodies slotted together sending your internal temperature off the charts. all you can hear is the wet slap of kirishima’s hand has he jerks himself off along with bakugou, their crude mix of frothy white arousal slinging about the place.

they’re a mess, but you’re in no better state than your lovers. the ones that pull you apart with every suck, bite and pinch as you choke or heave and piece you back together just by moaning your name. your body cries out for another orgasm, bakugou switching between leaving lovebites on your inner thighs and nipping at your clit while you tug on his hair— harder and harder each time. your legs shake either side of his head, every drag of his pink muscle in and out of you, fucking you as if it were his cock— drags you closer towards cloud nine. it’s so close you can almost touch it.

katsuki’s hips rut up to meet the slide of eijirou’s cock back and forth against his own, his bright red and almost sore cockhead catching on the thickened blue veins that wrap around kirishima’s shaft. the repairman throws his head back, pearls of sweat dripping from his forehead and running from it, down his throat and right over his adam’s apple.

you jerk as that same and familiar feeling from earlier begins to simmer in your lower tummy, threatening to bubble over like a pot on a stove if you’re touched just right. you whinge and sniffle the closer you get, one hand raking through katsuki’s sweaty blonde locks and the other bracing your weight on the headboard as you throw your hips and sopping cunt down against his soaked face. “‘m gonna…oh god! think ‘m gonna—!”

connected by a heavy string of your clear, syrupy nectar that flows in streams from your gooey insides— bakugou pulls off of you with a lewd pop, panting for air. “she’s gonna cum, kirishima,” he mewls, lapping at you like a kitten. “wanna…fuckin’ cum with her too.”

“don’ worry, i’m…shit. ‘m right there with you guys,” eijirou sobs, biting down hard on his lip to suppress his pathetic squeaks, flicking his wrist faster, clumsier around their viscid and creamy cocks— desperate to get them both to the edge. “k-katsuki, b-baby!” the redhead chokes on the moan of your name, his orgasm hitting him first as his hot white seed spills over katsuki’s thighs and shaft. the blonde follows suit, back arching off the bed along with his hips as his potent load shoots up your back and adds to the mess.

he groans deep into your cunt, crying out your name as well, weakly. “oh fuck! fuck yeah…”

your orgasm breaks you.

blood rushes through your ears and static crackles across your brain— all that tension, all that ecstasy that’s been building up is finally released. your juices splash out against katsuki’s face, who gulps everything you give him down— three fingers on your clit, rubbing you in tight circles to coax you all the way through. colour dances behind your eyes and you squeal, and shake— collapsing back into kirishima’s plush chest as he catches you before you fall.

you watch contentedly and with hooded eyes, after rolling onto your side ( once again stuck in the middle of your boys ), as they reach over you to share the sweet, candied flavour of you in a kiss. bakugou’s tongue dominates kirishima’s, pushing into the hot cavern of his mouth in a nasty, hungry exchange— riling one another up even though you’ve all just cum. they turn to you next, with rose tinted cheeks and heart shaped pupils to pull you into the kiss as well. ensuring that you get a taste of yourself too.

now, with the three of you catching your breath against solid sheets, you find yourself calming a bit— letting eijirou trace affectionate patterns into your left side, katsuki beginning to mumble praises to you on your right. “did so fuckin’ well for us, sweetheart, you okay to keep goin’? you came fuckin’ hard.” he’s teasing, you can tell, a bright and lazy smile on his face as he watches over you— the only hint of concern you detect being hidden behind the brownish flecks in his eyes.

“i-i think i can go again, if you both want to,” you say bashfully, pressing a soft kiss to bakugou’s cheek before rolling over to give kirishima the same treatment. “i-i like having both of you fuck me.”

kirishimma laughs fondly, his dick twitching against your side just as katsuku’s does. “is that so?” he inquires coyly, rough fingertips dancing over your slick thighs while he locks eyes with his blonde counterpart— as if to send him a message. “i think we can manage a double stuffin’, since y’want both of us, right?”

“d-double stuffing?” you breathe, brain lagging as you process the words.

the sound of moving fabric does nothing to cover the sound of your heart hammering against your ribcage at redhead’s suggestion, bakugou already shifting to get into position— lifting your thigh and grinding his half hard erection against the wetness of your cunt. “i mean, that’s what yer after, no?’ he chimes in, licking his lips and looking down at you as if you’re nothing but a hunk of prey. “to have both of our cocks, fillin’ ya up’ta the brim. pluggin’ you full.”

“y-yeah…i do,” is all you can respond with, especially with the newer friction from kirishima sliding his cock against katsukis over your pulsating pussy. you gladly bask in their attention. “oh god, i do. i want it so bad.”

someone speaks, but as lust tremors through you like the aftershock of an earthquake, you cant seem to tell who. “then say please.” the voice utters.

“p-please! fucking, please!” you comply, desperate.

“atta fuckin’ girl.” rasps the other voice.

kirishima hooks your knee over the bend of his arm and you end up back to chest with him while bakugou takes you into his arms so that you’re chest to chest for better positioning. his caramel skin is hot to the touch like molten sugar, comforting even when you become hyper-aware of eijirou’s cockhead pressing against your entrance— groaning as he tries to ease past your tightness.

your nails form reddish crescent moons along katsuki’s biscep as you clutch onto him for dear life, still adapting to the stretch of the redhead behind you as he pushes deeper into your fluttering cunt slowly. “easy red, don’t want you hurtin’ her,” bakugou is gruff with his words and settleshis large and worn down palms on your waist, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your lower back to distract you from the burn between your ruined thighs.

“i know what she can take, bakugou,” eijirou snaps back, staggering for breath but stops his hips in order to give you time to adjust. “j-just lemme know when i can move, kay baby?” he’s only got the tip in, your hole stinging only just as it resists his intrusion. the slight twinge of pain is enough to bring a fresh set of tears to your eyes but feels significantly better than it hurts.

“s’okay kiri, keep goin’,” you croak and lean forward, too needy to think and capture bakugou’s lips in a chaste kiss. you shiver at the taste of yourself and kirishima’s lip balm on him too. the display of affection is aimless, going nowhere except for consoling you the more kirishima thrusts into you.

a broken moan reverberates between the three of you, planted firmly against the blonde’s lips when your red haired partner finally bottoms out, snug against your slick walls. “shit darlin’…you’re so fucking wet ‘n hot ‘n tight,” he groans, fidgeting against your back. “have i not fucked you enough? poor thing.”

you respond with a sweet little mewl, near purring at the feeling of kirishima’s girth sitting heavy inside of you— practically in your guts even though he’s only shallowly thrusting into you. he whimpers against your shoulder, his grip bruising against your thigh to the point where you’re sure you’ll have handprints on it tomorrow. “kirishima, ya idiot, did’ya put a condom on?” bakugou fumbles for your clit again, tracing his initials over it as if the added stimulation will help.

“no…you really gonna make me pull out?” he whines like a petulant child.

“s’okay, i just wanna…i need you. both of you.” you plead and cling to him, eyes wide and glittering— pushing back on kirishima and forth on the blonde’s fingers for some friction and some form of pleasure.

the repairman languidly juts his hips forward, smearing his new wave of precum along your ribbed walls, the sound of your laments and simpers syncing up with kirisima’s makes bakugou relent. “fine. but you better pull out before y’get close…” katsuki lets out a hiss, just as his counterpart grabs at his shaft and circles it around your stretched entrance where you and kirishima meet, a mix of your arousals making it easier for bakugou to slip right in. “damn…she’s so cute, y’gotta let me in baby, ease up…”

your body follows his command, relaxing as you slump between the two boys— mind too numbed and dumbed by the pair and their leaky cocks. you can barely move, only jolting with them whenever their dicks brush against each other inside of you. “move katsuki, wanna give her the fuckin’ that she needs.” kirishima pouts, losing his patience again.

the entire world spins, barely preparing you for the feeling of both boys thrusting into you at the same time. everything is so tight, vulgar and souse— neither of them wasting any time in pounding you to hell and back and the bed cries out under the intense and sudden movement, though it isn't any louder than you. when kirishima throws the weight of hips into you from behind, fucking you without thinking, bakugou pushes you back with his own passionate lunges of his hips too. as if they’re fighting for ownership of your spasming cunt.

you soak their dicks in your honeyed nectar as they pump into you, and bakugou grabs at your waist roughly to stop you from writhing about the place. he quietens his moans with love bites and kisses across your skin, your throat— pulling you down onto his rock hard cock. they stretch you for all your worth, bathing in the essence that you give them all while sharing sloppy kisses from over your shoulder.

its not like you haven’t slept with either one of them before. you’ve spent plenty of nights with your fingers stuffed deep into your needy sex, trying to pleasure yourself to the memory of your first time with bakugou and just as many nights bouncing away on kirishima’s length— filling the void with a melody of your mixed moans. but this is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. being double stuffed by two brawny and beefy men has you losing your very last shreds of sanity with each hard rut into your drenched, convulsing cunt. bright red and lacteal tips brush up against your g spot at the same time, doubling down on the dopamine and rapture tingling in your bloodstream.

poor eijirou sniffles, cries at how good your pussy grips him as he hits it from the back— his arousal and your juices tangling in his happy trail and slinging between your ass cheeks, glossing you up with a layer of sin. from behind, his palm snakes around your throat, giving it a light squeeze and restricting airflow into your lungs and to your brains. only serving to make you dizzier, easier to fuck.

on your other side, katsuki drops his grip to play with the cute bubbly flesh of your ass— spreading it apart so he can force himself deeper against your gushing, gummy insides. the further he spreads you, the more of your scent fills the air, accompanied by timbre groans and heavy pants. clear, thick liquid seeps out from between your folds and against katsuki’s tummy which lubes up your tangled limbs. “sweet fuckin’ girl, you feel so good. basically milkin’ us dry,” the blonde praises though his tone is slightly patronising, barely surfacing through his husky sighs. “you like that?” he adds, slowing the roll of his hips to grind up into you, making kirishima growl and you squeak.

“he’s talkin’ to you sweetheart, y’got an answer for him?” the redhead teases, shifting his hand to grab at your tear stained baby fat cheeks to turn your face to him. his chest bristles against your back in entertained laughter, pride dancing in his bright red eyes. “oh poor baby… what’s the matter, huh? you been fucked dumb? too full? god, look at her katsuki. a fuckin’ mess.” he continues to mock you over the sound of skin slapping harshly on skin, nipping at one of your wet cheeks. they cream warmly inside you, backs arching whenever their sensitive cocks brush against one another during your nasty double stuffing.

“don’t be fuckin’ mean eijirou,” bakugou coos to you softly, contrasting to his usual personality and with kirishima’s brashness as they take turns in ravaging you. “she just wants t’cum. don’t worry, angel, we’ll get’cha there.”

“p-please, just wanna be fucked, want all of you. harder katsuki, more eiji.” you beg, tripping over your words as they’re punctuated by your pleasure filled gasps. what you want, they give to you. balls clapping against your ass and your cunt.

the three of you make the trek up to cloud nine, just touching the gates of heaven. your expression is lewd, eyes rolled back in your skull, lips parted and your mouth hanging open— strings of saliva connecting the roof of your mouth to your tongue as it lolls over your bottom lip. bakugou and kirishima press bare down hard on your g-spot, never letting up on it while they angle their hips just right to make you see stars.

you’re seconds away from erupting, scratching down bakugou’s pecs while reaching behind you to tug on kirishima’s sweaty ruby strands of hair. their hips stutter but still attempt to delve further into your sopping, welcoming heat. “can feel how close you are, doll. clampin’ down on us. gonna make us lose it,” the blonde slurs.

“let go for us, c’mon baby. cum.” kirishima hiccups, working the three of you over the final hurdle— head first into an orgasm.

they pull out of you, as promised, just as you hit your high. your brain fuzzy and cleared of thought as you squirt for the boys, juices tainting their skin. they follow suit, two heavy loads of hot cum soil your thighs, your back and tummy— laying their claim on you for now.

the three of you flop against the ruined sheets, kirishima scoops up the mix of your arousals from the crudeness between you all and holds it to bakugou’s lips. the blonde blinks sleepily but complies, licking the redhead’s digits clean with a satisfied hum. and if you weren’t so fucked out, the view would have made you horny all over again.

“good boy, katsuki,” eijirou smiles, holding down his counterpart’s tongue.

bakugou bites down on his fingers cheekily, brows furrowing once the pink muscle is set free. “fuck you, eijirou.” looking down at you, a quivering cute little mess, and nudges your cheek. “you wanna get cleaned up, sweetheart? or do you wanna sleep.”

“sleep please,”

“‘m down for that. as hot as this was, you guys really wore me out.”

“yeah, yeah. settle down then red. let her sleep, alright?”

bakugou rolls his eyes, unimpressed, but smiling softly and throws an arm over you and the taller man in some form of a hug. completely blissed out, the three of you drift off into a deep slumber.

when you finally come to, one side of the bed is cold and the other warm from where a familiar figure has wrapped themselves around you. like a boa constrictor might do with its own prey.

“hey sleepin’ beauty,” eijirou greets you fondly, brushing a thumb over your pudgy cheek to gently coax you awake. “c’mon, katsuki said i had t’get you to go pee as soon as you woke up. don’t want you gettin’ sick.”

groaning, you rub the crusts of sleep from your eyes and stretch your limbs, sore from the countless rounds of sex earlier. “where is katsuki, anyways?” you mumble back, still drowsy, still clinging to the big muscular repair man in your bed.

“shower, he woke up first ‘n said he felt gross. try not to miss him too much, darlin’, you have me to keep you company.” he explains as if the two were never at each other’s throats, sinking back into the linens with you and squeezing you close to his chest. you think you could get used to this, the domesticity of it all if the boys can get along well enough, at least for your sake. maybe katsuki wouldn’t have to leave whiteridge, maybe you wouldn't have to leave and the three of you could be like this, together.

maybe you could help one another grieve in a healthy space. all together, as the found family izuku left you to be.

perhaps, this is the love that you’d been missing. deprived of.

you peer up at kirishima as he cradles you into the molten hot centre of his chest, sitting up with you in his arms slightly. even after everything you’ve been through you think that he’s beautiful, somewhat of a guardian angel to you and you can’t seem to fight the words trapped under your tongue. “eijirou i think i—“ love you. is what you want to say, but those butterflies carrying adoration start to go up in flames. they die under the wave of anxiety that crash over them. crash over you.

you change your words with your changing mood. “eijirou, what’s that?”

the redhead had been playing with your fingers above the duvet, allowing you to catch a glimpse of his inner wrist. “hm? what’s what, darlin’?”

there’s a mark embedded into his skin, familiar to you but you can’t quite put your finger on it. you wrack your brain, dash through your memories trying to place the little heart and match it up to what you know.

izuku comes to mind again, but not pleasantly. he had the same friendship mark, the same blood bond on his inner wrist. you remember it from the files in the autopsy report. they’re practically a perfect match. grabbing the repairman's arm, you inspect it closely, brushing your fingers over the symbol. “izuku. he had one of these…” you whisper.

“don’t be silly, i’ve had this for years and—“

“no.” you retort roughly, springing up from the bed and throwing on the nearest shirt. you ruffle through the papers on your desk until you find the report— frantically tearing out the photographic evidence and shoving it into eijirou’s face. “there’s no way you have the same intricately designed mark in the same place, faded like that. its not just some coincidence—“

panic starts to take over you, your brain running a mile a minute as you try to figure out the biggest question you have. why?

“baby. calm down. you’re being hysterical.” kirishima says in an attempt to bring you back you down, but he looks tense— scared. he knows what he's said is wrong, highly aware of the minefield he’s just stepped on.

“don’t you dare call me crazy, eijirou. you’ve done it before and i won’t let you do it again.” you growl, protecting yourself from any sensual lies he may try to feed you. “tell me the truth or so help me i’ll scream. when and how did you get that mark?”

bakugou resurfaces from the bathroom, sweatpants low on his hips while he confusedly towel dries his hair. “what’s goin’ on in here? why are you screaming?”

this time, you yank at the blonde’s arm to get a good look at his wrist too— right after you whirl around to face him. you’re sure you look crazed and you don’t have the time to dwell on the fact that he’s still wet, the water droplets on his skin sinking through your clothes. “you…you have it too,” its like a shock to your system. the fact that all three of them have the exact same mark printed against their skin.

you back away from katsuki, distance yourself from eijirou and tremble right in the middle of the bedroom. your head pounds as you try to figure out the possibilities and put the timeline together. bakugou looks between you and kirishima in confusion, and you watch as his face crumples upon making eye contact with your other lover.

“did…did he tell ya?” katsuki asks hesitantly, frowning deeper when you flinch as he steps towards you.

“t-tell me what?” you breathe out shakily, stomach dropping as katsuki confirms your suspicions. they’ve been hiding something from you. “no one tells me anything in this goddamn place! k-kirishima says i’m crazy, you can hardly look at me when i ask for the truth. i just want to know why you both have the same mark as izuku got on the day he died, why you were with him, why you won’t tell me shit!”

the room falls silent and all the air in it becomes replaced with a tension so thick you’re sure that not even the sharpest tool in the shed could cut through it. eijirou stands up from the bed this time, reaching out for you but you glare at him in warning to stay away. “let’s all just take a breather,” he proposes nervously and holds his hands out in deference. “you’ve had a long night doll, you gotta rest up—“

your face twists in disgust, hardly believing that kirishima would use the fact that the three of you had just had sex as an excuse to deny you the truth. “why do you keep denying me? why won’t you be honest with me?”

why. why. why.

katsuki makes a pained noise, mouth opening and closing as he debates his next words. he says your name welty and remorsefully. “because…we love you too much to hurt you.”

“katsuki.” eijirou says in warning, though he doesn’t rebuke the confession. they love you, they love you enough to lie to you. “don’t.”

“why not?” you fight back, even though you feel like you’re losing the battle already. “i know something went on between the two of you, i know now that my mother wasn’t crazy trying to find out either.” emotions rush through you all at once— guilt, anger, sadness. everything you thought you’d pushed away since leaving whiteridge coming right back to the forefront of your mind— brought forth by the last people you thought would ever hurt you. “if either of you cared about me like you say you do. love me like bakugou says—“

stepping forward and almost crossing your boundary, the redhead cuts you off, his throat dry and eyes wild. “we do!” he exclaims, trying his best to be convincing. “we do love you. i always have, you know that.” he says your name once and for some reason it feels like a punch to the gut, a betrayal to even utter the syllables after lying to you. “y’gotta believe me when i say it…”

“then let me put them to rest, kirishima! stop dodging my questions and being vague. quit gaslighting me into thinking there’s nothing fucked up about what’s going on here!” you argue, not even bothering to stop the flow of tears that fall freely from your glossy eyes. “i just want my mom and izuku to have their peace…and you’re not letting me do that.”

that seems to break something in katsuki. you can almost hear his heart break when he looks at you, like he’s been dying to say it all from the start. if just push a little more, he might crack, if you try a little harder, he might open up to you like you need him too. so you plead with him, try to appeal to the softer side you know exists within katsuki bakugou— hold that metaphorical hand out to him like he’d done for you at your brother’s grave some weeks ago.

“please,” you choke back a sob, not caring if you look insane or if you’re a snotty and teary eyed mess. “i deserve to know. i need to know, and if you have any sense of love for me, you’ll tell me what happened to izuku that day.”

“it was an accident,” he starts slowly, voice raw. bakugou looks like he’s hurting, taken a bullet to the chest as he bleeds his truth out for you. “we…we didn’t mean for it to happen.”

“katsuki, shut up!”

“kirishima let him talk—“

“—god damn it, eijirou!” spinning on his heel, katsuki directs his frustrations at the latter— seething through his heartache. “quit playin’ around! she deserves to know…t’know what we did.”

kirishima’s lips form a thin line, expression solemn as he visibly gives up— stops building up his happy go lucky wall that keeps you on the outside of it all. it could have been his way of protecting you, like he had said but no matter what side of the card kirishima showed you, you knew in this moment, knew that somewhere in the back of your mind you couldn’t trust him. not anymore. not even if your heart wanted to.

“it really was an accident,” he croaks after some time, his words punctuated by bakugou’s heavy breathing. “we were with deku that day too, just the three of us. like we always were. y’couldn't separate us back then…even if you tried.” kirishima is wistful as he speaks, almost as if that fateful day was a good one for him. he looks as though he can feel the sunshine on his cheeks and the fresh air in his lungs, hear izuku’s laughter accompanied by the sway of the canopy up above their youthful heads. “katsuki had given us the marking… they were stick ‘n poke tattoos, he stole the kit from the convenience store, you remember that kats?”

bakugou nods his head, but doesn’t dare look at you— aware of the fact that if he does, he’ll shatter like glass under the weight of his own guilt. “i r’member. you cried like a bitch when i got yours. deku…” he laughs, but it’s heartless and cold before he corrects himself. “deku took his like a champ. he was brave like that, the bravest out of all of us.”

hearing them talk about your brother so softly makes you feel both sick and, in a weird way, happy at the same time. just knowing that even in his final hours he acted the same way as he always did— just like your izuku. “how did you guys end up by the lake?” you prompt. “what about his ankle? the picture my mom had of you guys?”

the redhead rolls his shoulders, tense as he recalls the story to you. “we weren’t s’pposed to be that at the lake.”

“w-what?”

“we were only going for a hike, to izuku’s favourite spot— i swear we were just kids— just being fuckin’ stupid,” bakugou seems more panicked now, as if the memories were too anxiety inducing for even him to bare. “o-on the way up he tripped, i’d been messin’ with him ‘n made deku trip on a fuckin’ rock of all things.”

a rock? that would have explained how your brother had broken his ankle— the thought of his bone crunching makes your skin crawl, imagining his beautiful freckled face twisting in agony only pisses you off. you’re across the room before you can register, gripping him by the shoulders and shaking him.

“what for? why did you touch him?”

he’s never seen you so vicious, like a rabid dog pushing the bulking blonde back against the wall. and he lets you, barely putting up a fight. “i-i…” he stutters.

“it’s because he liked you and deku didn’t approve.” it’s kirishima who confesses this to you and you stop your attack on bakugou to listen attentively— holding back despite your trembles. you hadn’t known the blonde back then, but you remember spots of him in your life. how he’d be kind to you when izuku wasn’t around, how he looked out for you behind the scenes. it hadn’t occurred to you that he might have liked you the way eijirou did, you’d hardly known each other after all. his lack of deku’s approval could been foresight, knowing what all comes next. “bakugou wanted to turn back after it happened, but midoriya insisted on getting to the clearin’ so we carried him up…he wanted to camp out ‘n see the stars that night.”

“we found the lake by accident tryna find somewhere t’rest before we got there. we stopped and…” kirishima trails off, swallowing thickly and an awful feeling swirls around in your lower tummy. like that feeling you get just before you’re jump-scared while watching a horror movie. you’re stomach drops, your pupils dilate— air becomes scarce to you.

this is the plot twist, the truth your mother died without knowing.

“it was an accident,” eijirou repeats the same mantra from earlier, sounding as if he's about to burst into tears.

“so you’ve said,” you say, voice devoid of any emotion as you wait for the big reveal, for the ball to drop. “what happened, eijirou?”

“he pushed him.”

ice runs through your veins— freezing your beating heart in its place as your gaze trails back up to katsuki’s face. he catches you as you stumble and the world starts to spin as if you’ve been thrown on an unstable rollercoaster. “pushed him…right over the edge. ‘cause deku said he weren’t brave enough for you.” bakugou mumbles, plainly— though the rubies in his red eyes are shattered with grief.

it was stupid. the dumbest thing you’d ever heard— your older brother, the only person who’d ever truly loved you shoved over the edge of a fucking river bank over you. you who didn’t know the two men before you had loved you too. you were the reason eijirou kirishima had let him drown. you were the reason eijirou kirishima had pushed him to his death.

“t-that doesn’t…that doesn’t make sense!” you try, clutching at your chest because you feel like you can’t breathe no matter how hard you try. something as simple as taking in oxygen and letting out carbon dioxide becomes a chore, eyes darting everywhere around the room only to settle on the man who took your world away from you. “izuku can swim. he could swim!”

kirishima hiccups, doesn’t dare to move or touch you— knowing that you’ll lash out or tear him apart. “i didn’t mean it, i-i swear, if i could take it back i would have—!”

“why didn’t you go in after him? why didn’t you save him?” you scream this time, realising the gravity of the situation. realising that izuku, like you now, in his last moments couldn’t breathe. how he’d slipped under the surface of water that’s meant to give life and instead had it taken away from him. he’d been cold, he’d been in pain— suffocating and neither of these men had gone in after him. how could they have possibly claimed to love you after all of this. “you…you murderer!”

even though your knees are weak and wobble, you follow your fit of rage and toss yourself in the redhead’s direction with the intent to kill— probably no better than him. bakugou circles his strong arms around your waist even though you kick and scream and cry, scratching at him until you draw blood.

“we thought he’d come back up!” the blonde whimpers.

breaking free, you look at bakugou incredulously— like a wild animal in fear and you might as well be. you have no idea what these men are capable of almost a decade and a half later. you sniff, your eyes lined with red and liquid silver tears. “why didn’t you get help?” comes your choked out question.

“we were kids… we thought if we just went home…it’d all be over. that it’d never happened. what else could we have done?” eijirou warbles wetly. you don’t know how he can sit there after all this time and have the audacity cry. how either of them can act like they hid this from you out of love. love isn’t playing mind games or dragging you through rounds of mental gymnastics. love isn’t pushing the person you care for to the brink of insanity.

they don’t love you.

only izuku was capable of that, it seems.

“you could have helped him.” you utter quietly— as cold as the thick shards of ice once again guarding your heart. your next movements are quick, have you running on adrenaline and that same desire to escape this town from years ago. you grab what you can, the important stuff— clothes, your laptop and any notes, your mother’s pictures and something to remember izuku by before making a dash for your car. your second great escape.

the men that you thought you could call your lovers are quick to follow you— calling out your name hopelessly through the loveless walls of your childhood home. every bad memory you thought you’d replaced here turns sour, every second you’d spent between them with katsuki and eijirou garners a visceral reaction from you. you can’t stand to hear their voices anymore, to think about how close you had allowed yourself to be with them. you’d been vulnerable, let them see the deepest parts of you that you’d kept safeguarded for years only to have it shown to the wrong people.

to have everything thrown back into your face.

defeated tears burn at your tired eyes as you reach your car— fighting with its handle to get inside. you’d never given so much of yourself to other people before, only to find out they were the ones who’d hurt izuku. it breaks you, in the worst of ways— as if someone had taken the delicate vase of your heart and thrown it at a wall. you’re cut by the shards, worn down beyond repair. there’s no coming back from this, to this horrible place.

“baby…baby please don’t go.” katsuki tells to you as he rushes down from the porch to meet you with eijirou in tow. despair dulls his once beautiful vermillion eyes, but just looking into them hurts you. you can’t trust what they say anymore. “we…we never fuckin’ meant for any of this to happen. to hurt’cha like this. please don’t go. let us make this right. give us a chance. just one—“

“just don’t go to the police.” kirishima cuts bakugou off once they’re fully by your sides, desperation clinging to his voice and ringing out into the night air. “it’ll ruin our lives.”

your actions pause, and you no longer find yourself slipping into your car but instead eerily turning around to face the duo. before you can realise what you’re doing— your hand flies back and lands harshly against the redhead’s cheek, stunning you all into silence. “are you fucking kidding me, kirishima? your lives?” there’s so many years of rage echoing in your voice, a wet tiredness in your face that no one else in the world could possibly relate to right now. his words sting, they fill you with a poison that only blackens your weak heart and you don’t bother to stop the viciousness that spills from your lips next.

“that’s all you can think about? you have no fucking idea what its like to have your life ruined, to live day by day absolutely-fucking-miserable because the only thing…the only person that you lived for, is gone. you don’t know shit about living life or having it ruined.” neither of them think to speak as you rant away, releasing everything you’d ever held back since leaving whiteridge. kirishima clutches his swelling cheek, an expression of regret plastered across his features and bakugou can’t even bare to look at you— gaze focused purely on the dirt beneath his shoes.

“my brother is dead because of you. he is gone. he’s never ever coming back and it’s all your fault. i hate you. i hate you more than i’ve ever hated anyone in my entire life. both of you.” you spit, slurring over your words, crying the hardest you ever have in all your years of living. you’re still met with nothing, you’re not sure if you even want to hear what they have to say but you keep going, nonetheless.

“that’s what it feels like to have your life ruined, when there’s no more love left in you. you will never know what that's like…what it’s like to be me. my life, all my hopes and dreams, they were ruined the day you took my brother from me. the day you murdered him.”

taking a deep breath, you wipe your face on the hem of the shirt you’re wearing and throw yourself into your vehicle, duchess, reviving her up in frustration. kirishima sets his hand on the glass of your window and feebly mumbles your name, bakugou doesn’t budge. you’ve said your piece and now there’s nothing more to it.

“fuck you. both of you.” you growl as best as you can before pulling out of the driveway and making sure you leave for good.

you contemplate stopping at the police station, but without their confessions recorded you have as little evidence as your mother did when she fought for the lost life of her son— and you barely have it in you to spend a second longer in this town. god forbid they start calling you crazy too.

so you drive, you drive through your choked tears and heaving sobs. you drive until you can’t see the sign to whiteridge anymore. you drive until your wrists hurt from holding the steering wheel too tight— and until you feel safe again.

safe like the day you left for the first time, all those years ago.

your book releases exactly one year and one day from the day you’d left whiteridge for good.

the loneliness of your luxury apartment deep in the bustling life of the big city had welcomed you back with working heating and open arms— giving you the space to recover from your emotional and mental wounds left on you by two men you thought you could trust. the ones you thought that you could love.

from there, it takes you six months, a shit tonne of black coffee and low-contact with the outside world to fully complete your autobiography. you tell every story you can think of, every lust, every love, every loss and every lie— permanently inking them as your life’s work for the whole world and it’s mother to see. you want anyone who will listen to know your story and know that there’s nothing more the universe could throw at you to mess with you.

mina receives your full and completed manuscript via email right before she’s due to board a plane with her fiancé hanta sero ( the graphic designer for the cover of all your books, as it turns out ) and both of them drop everything to swing by your place to check that you’re alive and well. you’re far from it, actually. they can most certainly tell by your sunken red lined eyes and your kind-of gross pyjamas that you wear and the litter scattered across your living space— but at that time, neither of them question it.

sero orders take-out for dinner ( or whatever meal of the day it’s supposed to be ) and ashido cleans up the apartment, before cleaning you up, and together the three of you read through the final transcript.

of course, she loves it, she holds you when you cry and sero holds her when she cries. they don’t dare to ask you what happened out there, in the small town of whiteridge, its written clear as day in your heartfelt words… but for the first time in your life you feel that people really know you, and genuinely care.

mina gets you the best therapist money can buy after that night.

your book launch comes sooner than expected, and it does better than you expected as well. fans from all over the world sympathise with your story, they mourn the loss of your family right alongside you, they curse the two men you’ve named as ‘red’ and ‘blondie’ and most importantly, they hate the town that hurt you. these days, jirou tells you that almost every establishment in whiteridge has negative reviews on yelp, except for the hotel she runs with momo and denki’s bar right across the street— in fact, both businesses have been skyrocketing since your autobiography hit the shelves.

kirishima calls around that time too. when you answer, the line is full of static crackling over the loud silence and neither of you speak. “finished repairs on your mom’s house today,” he says, floundering for words and time. “think it’ll be up f’sale later this week.”

“thanks, kirishima.”

his breath had hitched at the use of his last name, no sweet pet name, no tone of affection or butterflies in your stomach. “i read your book too.”

“hasn’t everyone?”

“i should have told the truth, i shouldn’t have lied to you,” he goes on, clinging onto one last thread of hope. “then maybe—“

“then what?” you ask slowly, clutching your phone a little tighter.

“then maybe we could have been something, like we’d always wanted.”

there’s more silence, and then you laugh— brightly, genuinely, rendering the repairman confused on the other end of the phone. “i doin’t think you ever wanted me that badly, eijirou. otherwise, you would have come after me.” you tell him once you catch your breath. “besides, we wouldn’t have worked out anyway.”

“why not?”

“because, even if you’d told me the truth. lying to spare my heart would’ve always been an option to you. you’d never be honest to hurt me and comfort me after— you’re too nice for that. you’d rather not see me hurting at all.” when you explain, he has no answer and your phone beeps signifying another call on another line. “kirishima?”

“maybe… maybe you’re right.”

“i think i am.”

“yeah,” he whispers in harmony with the static. “i guess this is goodbye then.”

“it is,” you whisper back as the beeping gets louder. “goodbye kirishima.”

“goodbye, lil’ midoriya.”

he never apologises after that, and the only time you hear from him is via text regarding the house. bakugou never makes contact with you, and you can’t help but wonder if he even bothered to read your book— that’s if he even knew about it.

according to management, and mina, a book tour was the next and final thing on your agenda before you were allowed a well earned break— the promise of freedom and the time to relax or write something a little less soul-damaging, getting a little closer with each tour stop you make.

“so, when you found out that these two men you’d been falling for had lied to you and hid the truth about your brother, how did you feel? i-i know you talk about it in the book…but i’d gone through something similar a-and i wanted to hear it from you.”

you end up back in the beautiful city you call home for the last tour-stop. the girl who had been asking you the question stands in the very front row, she seems nervous, like she’d been silenced her whole life— and the way she clutches onto your book gives you the impression that she’d found her voice through you. you see your old self in her too.

“well…” you start, carefully folding your hands into the centre of your lap. in the back of the auditorium mina had rented out for the event, the door swings open, and you swallow thickly as it reveals a pair of familiar and daunting red eyes. “well, to be honest… i felt the greatest loss i’d ever felt in my life.” you muse out loud, refocusing your attention to the timid girl in front of you. “you’d think, after everything i’d seen and been through, that i wouldn’t be able to feel anything aside from numbness at that point. i’d spent years of my life trying to fill the hole izuku left…that my mother left too. and to be betrayed like that? well you might as well have cut open my chest and ripped my heart out.”

the audience applauds your monologue, and the girl thanks you sweetly but most of it falls on deaf ears before your next question— those same red eyes locking with yours once again, saying only one thing.

‘i’m sorry.’

after your talk, there’s a two hour book-signing and you don’t expect your unexpected guest to be leaning against the wall, waiting for you outside, once everyone has gone.

“you didn’t want your copy signed?” you ask with a tiny hint of amusement, leaning against the opposite wall to your visitor. “i think i still have some ink in my pen if you do.”

adjusting his cap on his head and holding out his copy to you, bakugou scoffs but mirrors your playfulness with his signature toothy smirk. “don’t do too well with crowded spaces, so i figured i’d wait until after,” your fingers brush only just as you take the book from him and scribble your name across the first page with your dedication to both izuku and your mom on it. “was an amazin’ read, by the way, i loved the endin’— how y’solved yer own mystery ‘n shit. the girls at work loved it.”

looking up from the printed version of the story of your life, you give bakugou a small smile. “mystery and misery do seem to go together.”

“ya still miserable?”

“sometimes,” you admit to the blonde a little too quickly for your liking. “but i have more good days than bad now. what about you? is whiteridge still as shitty as ever?”

“nah,” katsuki hums proudly and matches your smile. it’s nice to see him happy, after to so long— but maybe a part of you is a little glad to see him when you should be hating him. “moved outta that shithole ‘bout six months ago. i live here in the city now, ‘n work in a small family owned restaurant downtown. they serve the best fuckin’ pork katsu you’ll ever have...”

you wrap your arms around yourself, a shiver running through you despite how warm the building is. your mom used to tell you that those random cold shivers were the spirits making their presence known to you— so you think that izuku might be watching right now. “i’ll have to try it someday,” comes your quiet voice.

“you’ hafta lemme take you sometime soon—“

“i don’t mean to be crass, bakugou, but...what are you even doing here?” then the conversation goes quiet.

you’ve come to hate the sound of silence these last few months— no one who knows you, no one who loves you knows what to say to you anymore.

your silences are no longer filled with the click and clack of a keyboard because you no longer have anything to write about, they’re no longer broken up by text chimes or ringtones because you’ve cut off kirishima and he used to call you almost everyday, they’re no longer filled with the laughter you would share from bantering off of bakugou. there’s no one to occupy your silence except for the frenzy of your own mind, because izuku is dead, your mom is dead and it’s just you now.

but then, bakugou speaks up— rasps through the heavy hushness for you, reaching out for you like he always does. “i-i don’t fuckin’ know,” he begins aimlessly. “i wasn’t even s’pposed t’be here, ‘m meant to be on dinner service tonight but i got an ad fer ya book signin’ on the way over ‘n just…called in sick,'' the world comes to a standstill as he explains himself to you, the blonde is right in front of you but feels a million miles away all at the same time. katsuki looks to the ceiling, as if you’ll be scorched by his gaze. “i had this whole plan in my head, of what i was gonna say t’you when i got the chance, but now that ‘m here…well ‘m.. fuckin’ blankin’!”

“i don’t… i don’t need a long-winded monologue from you, katsuki, i just need to hear you say it and know that you mean it.” your voice trembles with the threat of crying, tears already forming in your waterline.

you don’t need much, is what you tell yourself, as bakugou’s mouth opens and closes— formulating the words, finding the right order to put them in. you just need one more ounce of truth. you’ve been given the bare minimum almost all of your life, but this is the highest standard you’ll ever hold someone to. taking accountability for hurting you.

katsuki takes a step towards you, and another more confident one when you don’t move. “‘m sorry,” strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into his safety net of an embrace, one of his hands cupping the back of your head. “‘m sorry for all the fuckin’ pain i put you through, never wanna see you that hurt ever again.” you melt into him, tears falling freely as bakugou fights back his own. “i stayed away f’too long, tryna figure out if i was worth forgivin’, if i deserved a second chance but i know now… it was never about me. you jus’ needed me to apologise. so ‘m sorry, to you, your mom and to izuku.”

katsuki bakugou says it all, everything you’ve been needing to hear from every adult in your life since you lost your brother— so clutching his shirt tight between your fingers, you pull him into you, letting your eyes bore deep into his own. in the life you’ve lived, you’ve had to learn how to read people, see through their eyes to know what they truly mean and think when they look at you.

but staring into katsuki’s right now, all you can see is the honesty in them— intertwined with the dark brownish flecks that contrast with their rich vermillion colour. he truly means it.

he’s truly sorry.

and with that, you lean up and press a feather light peck to his lips, feeling him tremble in your hold before hesitantly melting into you— saying the words he needs you to say.

“i forgive you, katsuki, we both do.”

END.