Latest Posts by meivienne - Page 2

gonna try to get some tasks done today

FUCK MY LIFE OH GOD 😫😫😫😫😫😫😫

⸝⸝ — YOU’RE MINE NOW .

⸝⸝ A/N :: serial killer! toji makes me feel some type of way <3 5.2k words.

⸝⸝ SYNOPSIS :: you’re a college student, one dark night, the time was passing by normally, that is until infamous serial killer, toji fushiguro, breaks into your house with the intent to kill. you manage to run, but not for long, what will you do to save yourself?

⸝⸝ C/W :: dub-con, hunter and prey dynamics, mentions of murder / violence, breeding, mating press, slapping, degrading, mentions of impregnation, kidnapping, cheating, etc .

⸝⸝ TAGLIST :: @devmimi @luvbladez @snake-titan @zannivrs @fatenpara @lilithlunas @fartwithsplinters @beebopsalad @chaoticevilbakugo @getoswhore

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“i’ll make it fit” that line gets me every time🤰🤰🤰🤰

๑՞. AT NIGHT, THE BEASTS COME TO PLAY !

AFTER GETTING LOST IN THE FOREST, you find yourself in a hellhound’s den.

categories. my hero academia ─ bakugou katsuki ─ smut ─ 5.0k words.

contents. hellhound!bakugou, blood & violence, dead bodies, monster-fucking, bakugou is over seven-feet tall in his more humane form & sixteen feet tall in his animal form, size kink, biting kink, tummy bulge, cervix fucking, masochist!reader, cum play, clit slapping, unrealistic fucking, overstimulation, fingering, temperature play (bakugou’s body gets hotter), rough sex, manhandling, etc.

notes. here’s my entry for my own collaboration, 666: monster-lover/monster-fucker collab. also @poohbea shiesty deserves her ass to be ate for betaing this fic. yall see what i did there?? anyways, she’s really the best w beta reading.

Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.

Your feet are bloodied and bruised, running barefoot deeper and deeper into the woods. The nightcrawlers continue to chase after you, the fresh blood from your aching feet providing them further motivation. Your motivation to keep running? Your precious life. Your breath is getting heavier, your body significantly weak. How long could you keep this up? Running for your life.

With your slowed pace the beasts should’ve long snatched you up, your body mauled into an unrecognizable state. Were they toying with you? Letting you tire yourself out before going in for the kill? Panicked and remorseful tears cascade down your face, joining the sweat and blood already painting the flushed skin. Why were you so stupid? Why did you have to take that fucking dare? Fein bravery to impress your so-called friends, prove to them you were worthy of their friendship. Those same friends who got you into this mess, who left you alone at the mercy of the ravenous shadow beasts.

You’re hoping that soon, you’ll find a way out. You’re hoping that there’s an end to this forest, but you’re going to learn that you’re trapped here. That once you enter, there is no turning back. I don’t wanna die, you repeat to yourself. I don’t wanna die.

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imagine bakugou and his s/o showering together while irritated with each other. like both getting ready for work and he comes in the shower while y/n is already there & she's protesting n shit. his excuse being something like "m not gonna be fuckin late waiting for you to finish, plus all my shit is in here". lotta side eyes, quick glares. the high tension is everything. then they end up fucking. funny cuz now you're both late but bakugou's his own boss lol. lowkey toxic but they talk it out tho

i really love this idea thank u for sending it to me :)

cw: smut lol

a sigh leaves your lips, your tense shoulders still not letting up under the hot steam of your shower. you can’t get the last argument with your boyfriend out your head, standing under the stream in hopes your annoyance will evaporate out of you.

when the door clicks open you huff, heavy foot steps stomping through the bathroom getting louder as the figure gets closer.

“nope, get out katsuki. i’m not trying to talk to you right now.” you shout over the shower, crossing your arms in an attempt to cover your chest.

your words are ignored, another loud huff brushing past your lips. especially at how through the fogged glass you can see your boyfriend pulling off his t-shirt and pushing down his shorts.

you roll your eyes when he opens the door to the shower. only his head poking in. he’s got a frown on his face, the tips of his hair getting wet as he quickly looks you up and down. your wet glistening body to your pretty face crumpled in a frown. he’s so stubborn… and you’re even worse.

“‘m not gonna be late waitin’ for you to finish and all my shit is in here.” he grumbles, stepping into the shower. you’re always weak for him, eyes gazing over his muscular arms, his gorgeous scarred chest and his strong jaw clenched in defiance.

you let out a mixture of disgruntled moans and huffs, turning away from him abruptly but it only makes his eyes flicker down to your ass. “touch me and i’m kicking you out,” you tut, roughly grabbing your loofa to spread over your body.

“yeah, like you could kick me out princess. can barely touch the top of my head.” he snarls, nudging right up behind you so he’s also under the shower head. he doesn’t touch you but you can feel his presence behind you, strong and overpowering.

you whine, spinning around and sending him a harsh glare. your baby hairs are stuck to your forehead, bottom lip pouted with soap over your shoulders and breasts. “my knee can reach your dick. right? that would hurt.”

katsuki wants to push you against the door and fuck you from behind. your cheek against the glass as he pounds into your pussy, teach you about talking to him properly.

he can’t get a word in as you glance down to the mentioned appendage, slowly hardening against his lower stomach. your throat dries despite being surrounded by water. you wanna get down on your knees, feel him in your throat and have him under your spell but no, you have to stand your ground. sort of.

“can’t believe you, bakugou,” you spit, shaking your head disappointedly at him. your eyelashes are darker, eyebrows fluffed and messy and oh so beautiful before him.

katsuki tuts and you hate the sharpness of his ruby pupils. how they twinkle with humour like he knows something you don’t. “my cock still finds you sexy. what d’you want me to do about that? sayin’ that like your nipples aren’t rock hard.”

“because i’m naked, idiot.” you try to excuse but bakugou breathes a laugh.

“what? it’s not cold, stupid,” bakugou steps closer to you, your nipples rubbing against his chest. you sigh, not like your irritated one before but almost as if the slight tension is released with a simple touch from your lover. “wanna fuck and get this shit out our system?”

you bite down in your lip, fighting a moan when his lips brush against your jaw. his body is hard against you, hair brushed back to reveal his forehead. “princess?”

“you’re so fucking annoying. what happened to being late?” you ask but the steam of the shower, his cock against your skin has you feeling delusional, dropping your loofa to stretch your neck so he has more space to kiss.

“would rather have you pressed against the glass. wanna fuck you from behind.” he moans and with that you let your body fall into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and dragging him down to meet your lips.

the kiss is rushed, uncoordinated and he’s practically trying to suck your tongue out your mouth. you can barely open your eyes with the water streaming down and you release a high pitched whine when two large palms land at your hips, manhandling you against the glass door.

you’re sure there’s going to be marks on your hips from his rough grip but you can’t find it in yourself to care as you flip yourself around, tits cold against the walls. “hurry up, ‘ki. i’ve got places to be.”

a slap lands on your ass and a moan slips from your mouth. with a harsh squeeze, katsuki tucks himself right behind you, “youre gonna lose your fuckin’ attitude once i’m done with you.”

DROOLING I AM DROOLING

paxton’s line “look, devi, i really like you, but i don’t think we can have a real relationship until you like yourself” hurts like mf

JEAN'S HANDS

on this ep of jean brainrot: his hands <3 and bc i'm touch starved and going feral there are some NSFW things under the cut hehe

he kisses your knucles like this, absolutely adores your hands regardless of how they look or feel. his kisses reassure that while his other hand holds you close, so you can murmur sweetly in his ear. just imagine when he brushes his lips against your hands while making eye contact omg.

jean's hands are more on the softer side, i feel like he's the type to take really good care by moisturising them. the veins that are visible aren't too prominent, but when he flexes....

hold your breath

wears silver rings, loves the simplicity of them and it looks stylish too. bonus points if you wear silver rings too bc now you can be matching <3

there's always some form of physical contact when you're with him, hand on your thigh as he drives. on cold days he'll warm up your hands bc his are like a furnace. in the mornings he has a habit of wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to his chest.

ok ok now.....

sometimes you both indulge in an oil massage session starting off slow, pushing and releasing all the knots away. then it becomes a little bit more sensual, his fingers accidentally brush in a way that makes you moan involuntarily. of course your pleas don't go unnoticed, this man will tease you relentlessly until you're begging him to let you cum

dragging his thick fingers through your folds, taking his now glistening fingers and sucking them clean. it's the way he looks at you that makes even more erotic.

and the way they curl as you're whining and clenching around him almost makes him cum right then and there. your thighs are threatening to close around him. he uses his palm to gently open them up again

"don't hide from me love, wanna feel you clench around my fingers"

holds your hand during missionary, squeezing tight while pounding into you and whispering praises in your ear. grips your ass and spanks lightly when he hits it from behind

"god i love the way you feel."

"fuck baby, you're taking me so well. that's my good girl."

he goes absolutely crazy when you get loud, one hand sliding up your body in between your breasts then clasping over your mouth, his lips parted against your ear reminding you to quiet down.

[@killerbananas @dukina @ofallthingswhythis @toshji @shrekisshrimpthesimp]

WHY IS IT SO HARD TO FIND A GOOD, LONG JEAN KIRSTEIN FIC CRYING AND PUNCHING THE WALL RN

[ IMPOSSIBLE ] BAKUGOU KATSUKI.

it’s quiet this morning—which is fairly odd with bakugou, considering he’s always cursing about one thing or another under his breath as he gets ready, but today it’s silent. 

and it’s only silent because you refuse to talk to him, and he’s not going to talk to a wall, so he plays along. but you can tell he’s an atom bomb ticking, ready to go off any moment—and it really doesn’t take long before he lets out one last frustrated huff and takes the spatula from your hand as you make breakfast, pushing the pan off the heat before turning you to face him. 

he notes that there are still two eggs on the pan instead of one (you’re angry, not rude.)

“hey, what gives—”

“i’ve had fuckin’ enough,” he grunts, narrowing his eyes at you, “quit bein’ mad.”

“oh,” you hum, smiling dryly as you nod, “yeah, you’re right. i’ll just stop being sad next time i’m sad too. or stop feeling tired next time i get tired.”

“y’know that’s not what i meant,” he groans, pinching his nose, “i meant ‘m sorry. so stop bein’ mad,” he tries again. it’s blunt and doesn’t really butter you up like you’d hope, but it’s him and it’s sincere. 

last night is your first fight since you’ve moved in together. as in, last night is the first time you and bakugou don’t sleep on the same bed. he’s stuck on the couch for cursing at you—he always curses, but never with that tone directed towards you—and you sleep on the bed alone. 

his back is aching, but that’s not even the worst part. the worst part is that he now realizes that when your body isn’t slotted next to his, he doesn’t know what to do with his arms (he settles for awkwardly crossing them over his chest), and when you don’t talk his ear off before bed, he doesn’t have the sound of your voice to lull him to sleep (he ends up tossing and turning on the couch for most of the night.)

and with this newfound information, bakugou katsuki decides he will never be sleeping on the couch again. ever. so his only solution is to fix things so you don’t send him there tonight too.

but you’re still upset, so you turn your head and huff. 

“well, you shouldn’t have been so mean to me then,” you raise a brow, crossing your arms at him. 

the first time you and bakugou fight, it’s at your apartment after a date. it’s the first time he raises his voice at you, the first time he’s not gentle behind the tough exterior you think is practically his second skin. and before he can make things worse, before he can ruin the first thing in his life that’s not just good or even great, but perfect, he storms out to clear his head. 

he comes by the next morning with your coffee order and some breakfast before he mumbles an apology at your front doorstep. it’s awkward and gruff and a little choppy, but his voice is soft and his eyes are dim. you sigh before offering to split your breakfast and he doesn’t step a foot inside your home until you give him a kiss. 

the second time you fight is in the car. you’re the one to storm out this time, slamming the door at a red light and walking off before he can even fully comprehend what’s happened. and because luck seems to never be on either of your sides, it’s raining. he finds you shivering on the park bench where you both have your first picnic, and he drapes his jacket over you as he lectures you like he’s your father about the dangers of walking off in the middle of the night while it’s raining. 

because he’s equal parts annoying when he lectures, and equal parts endearing when he’s worried, you cut him off with a kiss. it’s a messy kiss, rain on your lips and a clash of teeth from the initial shock, but he melts into it instantly. he understands that night why cliche rain kisses are so romantic as he holds you in the middle of an empty park.  

and he thinks no matter how many times you fight, no matter who’s mad at who, he’ll find a way to end every argument with a kiss if it’s the last thing he’ll do.

“yeah, so ‘m sayin’ sorry,” he mutters, “didn’t mean it, okay? i love you.” you can’t help but notice that the last part isn’t stiff and awkward like everything else—he says i love you delicately, like it’s a fragile thing to say, like it’s a privilege he won’t take for granted. 

“well, i’m still mad,” you say stubbornly. 

“then quit bein’ mad,” he furrows his brows, “my back hurts on that damn shitty couch, okay? ’s gonna hurt my performance too. i’ll have to tell the families of the people i can’t save that you’re the reason why,” he warns, and he smirks a little at the way you have to chew your bottom lip to hide the giggle you almost let slip. 

“how bad does it hurt?”

“worst back pain i ever endured,” he says instantly. it’s a lie. he’s been slammed against buildings and concrete and practically given you enough heart attacks to leave you bedridden for the rest of your life—but he has to convince you somehow, even if it’s through dramatics. 

you sigh, and he almost thinks he’s won—almost.

“okay, you sleep on the bed, and i’ll sleep on the couch tonight—”

“you’re so fuckin’ gullible,” he cuts you off instantly, “as if a damn couch could do anything to me. i’ll sleep there until you’re done bein’ pissy,” he grumbles. 

you frown because you know him, and you know he’s just saying that. and just like that, the anger melts away and leaves behind the soft ache that only bakugou can placate. the kind of ache he placates by pretending the couch doesn’t hurt his back so it doesn’t have to hurt yours.

“katsuki—”

“i said i’ll sleep there,” he says firmly, “you’d get cold anyway. fuckin’ baby.”

“fine,” you spit, scrunching up your nose as you huff slightly, “you can sleep on the bed with me. but don’t touch.”

“i’ll stick to the couch then,” he says flatly, “the bed’s a full package deal. cuddles or nothing.”

“you are impossible,” you scoff, and he grins, chuckling lightly as his eyes stare at you amused. and he’s not perfect, a little rough around the edges with a mouth that runs before he thinks, but he loves hard and deep, enough to make you believe you’re worth sleeping on a stiff couch for with a thin blanket. enough to show up at your doorstep with your coffee and breakfast order memorized. enough to soak through the rain to hand you a jacket so you’re less cold.

“you’ll come runnin’ to me for cuddles sooner or later,” he snorts, “might as well make it sooner.”

“fine,” you cave, and because you missed him just like he missed you, you wrap your arms around his neck and lean in to kiss his jaw, “i love you too. and you can join me in bed and have your stupid cuddles.”

“‘m doin’ it for you,” he has the audacity to shoot back.

“katsuki, you really are impossible,” you snort as you shake your head, and when he gives you a lopsided grin, you kiss him slow and deep and a little more in love than you were yesterday. 

© hanmas do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik tok

Bakugou and his Breeding Kink

Once again, a completely cannon opinion of mine. Source: trust me bro. Also, feel free to give me suggestions on what yall want. Im open to everything but spit. I hate spit. Everything else is on the table. Well no, ykw. No: daddy kink, spit, scat, feet. Yes: everything else.

He wouldn’t notice this kink until yall started getting freaky. And even then he still wouldnt acknowledge the burning desire to leave his load seeping out of you. Just one day he’d get permission to come inside you and concluded that he fuckin loved it. Almost downright begged to after. Wants to see you swole with his seed

“Fuck. Damn it. Im gonna cum.” He gasped into your neck as you squeezed down on him. His thrusts were getting messy and harder. He no longer held the delicacy with his motions with his primal instict taking over.

“Inside Katsuki.” You reminded. “Please.” You had barely gotten over your first orgasm as he was cumming. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” His jaw clenched hard as his body started to tense and untense rapidly. His mouth fell open against your neck. He moaned as quietly as he could before his hips stuttered.

That was the only warning you got before a hot rush of milky liquid squirted inside you. He cursed through his moans and gritted teeth. Now he was normally a heavy cummer, so much that he’d get embarrassed. But it felt like his ropes just wouldnt falter. He slammed his cock deep inside you, no longer being able to trust without whining at his sensitivity.

There was a long pause after the 4th heavy rope of cum where he was just stuck. His hands gripping your waist was sure to leave burises after. He held you from squirming as he moaned- no whimpered. His body was stuck in a blissful pleasure before his final rope. His whole body was tensed and his eyes rolled back.

Then suddenly, you felt a final load that exploded inside yoh. He moaned in needy tone you’ve never heard before. You moaned with him at the warm, full feeling.

After his last load he practically fainted down onto you. “Fuck.” He was breathing heavy. You started to get concerned, “Katsuki, are you okay? You’ve never lost control-“ “Can we do it again?” You paused at his sudden interruption, “Inside, can I cum inside again?” Your eyes widened, his skin was flushed a deep red and his eyes refused to meet yours. You smiled, “Of course.”

oh my FUCK 😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩

So i gave this cinamonroll a middle part XD

YES i love them with every part of my being

I hope fanfiction writers know that I think of them like celebrities

I literally scream a little bit whenever one of them interacts with a comment i made on one of their posts like they are literally famous in my mind

thank you fanfiction writers you are literally sometimes the only thing keeping me alive 

sharing this masterpiece because ilameys deserves more appreciation fr fr

look how pretty she is 😫

rereading this for the nth time 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

Toy Box

Pairing: Bakugo x Reader (Roommate AU)

Rating: Explicit (18+ minors do not interact)

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

Word Count: 16.5k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The perfect dynamic.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The what?”

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

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

He grunts at you, “Two weeks.”

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

He’s too loud, you’re too messy:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No.

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

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

Right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey Bakugo?”

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh really? Name one.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ew.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Idiots.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yet?!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hmm?” you answer offhandedly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait.. really?” you ask incredulously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fucking. Hell.

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

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

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

(10:42 AM): I fucked up.

Mina: Well good morning to you too Katsuki.

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

Hanta: You mind giving some more details?

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

Mina: Asleep, why?

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

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

(10:45 AM): Yes. Idiot.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(10:55AM): ...

Dumb Ass: NO WAY.

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

Hanta: DUDE WHAT THE HELL?

Eijirou: I’M HERE YOU DID WHAT?

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

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

(10:58 AM): I DIDN’T FLASH HER OK?

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

(10:58 AM): Shut up.

Hanta: SO WHAT HAPPENED THEN?

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

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

Eijirou: You beat your meat?

(11:03 AM): DUH! I’M ONLY HUMAN!

Eijirou: That’s kind of hot.

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

Hanta: Gross.

(11:04 AM): Agreed

Dumb Ass: Hot.

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

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

Eijirou: No fucking way.

Hanta: Dude you’re whipped.

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

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

Mina: WHAT HAPPENED AFTER?

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

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

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

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

(11:11 AM): Yeah you’re an asshole.

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

(11:12 AM): No.

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

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

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

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

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

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

(11:20 AM): Thanks.

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

Mina: DENKI!

(11:21 AM): fuck off.

Dumb Ass: I’m joking!

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

“How do you accidentally shave half your head?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Geez took you long enough.”

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

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

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

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

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

“So you did see,” He grunts.

“Yeah,” is all you respond.

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

“But…I liked it.”

What?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Panting you respond, “No...what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come for me princess.”

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe a few,” he responds nonchalantly.

“A few?”

“What are you? A parrot? Yeah a few.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why? Are you jealous?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

Thank you so much for reading!

oh my 😳🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

Point

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou/fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ content [minors dni!!], established relationship, aged up, jealous!bakugou, degrading, unprotected sex.

Word count: 2,8k

---

BAKUGOU had never quite been a man prone to jealousy.

But god fucking damn it, as he watches the way you dance and twirl in your little party dress; your spine flushing further and further against the chest of the stupid phone charger of a man that he dares call one of his closest friends, it’s enough to make Katsuki outright fume with envy.

Staring at you like this, the bitter emotion he rarely experiences gives the ash blond a desire to tear his sly friend, who he’s known since his UA days, right to fucking shreds. With every smooth movement you make amongst the mass of sweat-coated bodies, he catches himself fantasizing about picking up those same shreds of his dumb, electric friend, chucking them all into a nice, tidy pile and setting them right on fire until they're gone, gone, gone.

Katsuki isn't entirely sure why he's feeling like this. Sure, it might be because of the lewd way your hips are swaying right against Kaminari’s goddamn crotch without stop, like they've been doing for the last three songs - yes he's counted each and every one, or perhaps how a kitty-like smirk graces your features when you see him glowering right at you across the room, but whatever the reason may be, it is enough to send him stomping towards you in quick, merciless strides that make him seem like he’s a determined soldier heading out to face the wrath of war instead of his tricksy girlfriend.

He can still taste the oaky, dry tang of the whiskey that he’s consumed in a singular swing of hand right on the flat of his tongue as he pushes past the crowd of hot, swaying bodies - vermilion eyes hard as stone. They fixate on you like you’re a little mouse he’s planning on cornering. Like you're a sad excuse for a girlfriend that he’s willing to crush into a pulp with that cruel fist of his.

What was supposed to be a fun night out is cut short by the way his hand firmly wraps around your waist as soon as he’s close enough that you can smell the sweet caramel that is his scent. It wraps around you now just like his body does; firm muscle and heavy bones surrounding you like a shield designed to protect. Or a cage meant to entrap; whichever you prefer.

Your boyfriend is in a mood - the discovery is made the moment you look up at him. He wears that frustrated, signature scowl on his face that you sometimes see whenever he loses at his silly PlayStation game: the one that makes him want to smash his controller right against the wall in a fit of rage.

Luckily for you, you’re used to his quirks by now, and thus know how to handle them even when they're angered. However, before your gloss-coated lips can even part properly to voice a witty retort, he tugs you off the dance floor with a prominent click of his jaw.

The muscle just underneath his sharp cheekbone flutters with irritation at the yelp you let out in response to the force he uses; disturbing the otherwise faux, shiver-inducing calm he portrays on the norm. It’s like a ripple in water: gone as quickly as it shows up.

Looking up at his side profile again, you wonder how such a hot-headed person can possibly wear an expression this icy, however he gives you no time to dwell on it much further. After all, the thought sizzles into nothing as soon as his hand moves from tug to shove.

Your tongue feels awfully hefty from the booze coursing your veins when you attempt to say his name, “Kat-”

“Keep walkin’,” is all he grits out with that gruff voice that makes your heart rage with absolute adoration as he places his palm right onto the small of your back. His touch makes your very insides squirm from delight. He’s rarely this affectionate in public.

“Katsuki, please,” you giggle out, attempting to stop in your tracks.

“I thought I’ve told ya to keep walkin’, y/n,” he grunts, pushing you forward again. He's clearly in no mood for your jokes.

That same calloused palm rests on the curve of your ass, now; thick fingers digging into your dress with evident possessiveness and urging you to do as he says as your aggravated boyfriend leads you out of the stuffy building. He promptly ignores Kaminari’s protests of a lost dance partner, and you wonder if it might just be because he doesn’t trust himself enough to not punch the honey right off of that sweet face of his.

Denki doesn’t seem to mind whatever he’s provoked, though. You catch his wink as he waves at you before his sniggering gradually fades away into the rhythmic, thundering beat of bass and melody that once again overtakes your sense of hearing with every step you take. You can still feel its buzz inside your very core; even as Bakugou tugs you out the heavy double door of the building with a firm nod to the bouncer.

By the time he waves for a cab, you’re clinging onto him like a little bimbo; shivering in your high heels and yearning for his body heat, despite that you’ve just spent the last three hours completely disregarding him by having fun with Kaminari instead.

Christ, just the memory of you nearly grinding against that dunce makes Bakugou want to blow up the entire building to fucking smithereens. He’s supposed to be a hero - a pro one, at that - and yet he can’t bring himself to care if the people inside that godforsaken club burned to fucking ash from how furious he is with you in that exact moment.

Katsuki doesn’t say anything when you whine his name into the cool evening air, testing and provoking his already thin line of patience. In fact, he doesn’t seem to be paying you any heed whatsoever when the cab arrives either. No, he just shoves you into the backseat; that big, rough hand of his landing to clutch your thigh as soon as he follows into the vehicle right after.

His grip is tenacious. He’s holding you so harshly that crescent markings of his nails are beginning to bite into the plush fat of your leg. You swear that you can feel sparks and heat emitting from the tips of his fingers whenever his thumb strokes the inside of your thigh. Swear that you can feel it burning your skin.

The fever you start to feel from somewhere deep inside you makes you want to rub your legs together. A small grunt leaves your lips at the barrier his hand provides, albeit it seems to land on deaf ears, because Katsuki doesn’t even acknowledge the sound of need. He just stares right ahead; giving the driver directions that’ll lead you to your final destination with a voice so bland that it makes your brow quirk in fascination.

It seems that you’re spending the night at his place.

And it seems that your guesses were correct, because as soon as the cab pulls in front of his driveway; he’s tugging you out of the car without as much as a stiff goodbye to your driver. The way he holds your hand is greedy; scarred digits entwine with your own more delicate ones, making them burn with heat as you stumble along and attempt to catch step with him.

“Kat, baby,” you try again, “slow down, please. I can’t-”

“Quiet,” is all he says, the single word honed like the most parlous blade before he adds, “you danced in those fuckin’ heels just fine while dry humping Kaminari like a goddamn bitch in heat, so I'm assuming you can walk just as good with me, too.”

Oh.

The stern tone he uses with you is enough to clamp your lips shut like a good girl. Come to think of it, it’s the least you can do. If you look at the situation through his perspective, you’ve been nothing but naughty the entire night.

A naughty, misbehaving girl, indeed. One that's in need of a lesson.

And as soon as the door closes behind you and that dreadful click! of the lock resonates as it slips into place; he’s ready to teach it to you.

Actually, he's going to drill the lesson into you right here and right now, because it seems that he isn’t even patient enough to reach the bedroom.

You let out a girlish squeak of satisfaction at the feeling of his hands touching you literally everywhere. He’s cupping your cheeks harshly, squeezing them to the point where the touch makes your lips purse before his hot mouth latches upon them in laggard, needy kisses that make his teeth clash against your own and for your sugary saliva to mix with the hint of liquor you can taste on him.

He bites into your plump bottom lip: sucking on it and stroking it with his warm tongue as he tugs on your hair by pulling it at the roots harshly, making you whine from the throbbing, pulsating sensation to appear between your legs as soon as his incisor strikes home on your lip in a delicious pang of ache.

You’re wet as a whistle in a matter of seconds, the damp patch on your pretty panties growing more profound with each passing moment he spends spoiling you like this. He knows which places to touch to get you going; knows which spots to stroke to make you squirm and writhe and moan underneath him like the neediest little thing.

“Kat,” you whisper, your voice trembling as you try to slur out some sense of apology into the shaky sentence, “I-I'm sorry, baby. About Kami.”

“Stop sayin' that idiot's name,” he rasps out, his eyes blazing like a forge when he looks down at you, “‘cause if you don’t, Imma have to fuck my own right into that dumb, little brain of yours, instead. I swear to god, I will.”

"But Kam-" your lips part again to question what he means with it, but he shows you the answer before you can even fully finish asking for it.

His mouth is right next to your ear, his exhales warm and heavy to brush your earlobe as he turns you around and slams your front against the door in one swift movement of force. Both of your palms produce a smacking noise when they hit against the wood, making you wince as he uses his knee to push your legs apart.

“Fuckin’ slut,” he mumbles tiredly - the tone he’s using making you feel like a goddamn chore as he hikes up the hem of your dress up to your waist and slips his hand between your legs. His tongue clicks against his teeth in bitter disapproval when his rough finger pads trace the arousal that’s soaking the lace of your panties, “Are you drenched ‘cause of me, or ‘cause of that fuckin’ moron?”

He’s clearly upset from cursing this much. You know that he owns a foul tongue and a rich vocabulary when it comes to curses, but it still makes some twisted part of you that’s hidden deep, deep inside your heart writhe and grin in absolute delight. Like a satisfied little kitty that’s succeeded in getting the cream, you turn to look at him over your shoulder.

“Mm, ‘cause of you, Kat,” you purr softly, pushing your hips further against his hand with a cute, little wiggle, “always ‘cause of you, baby.”

He looses a sigh at your mischievous behaviour, but nonetheless complies to your silent plea by tugging your panties down your legs. Your entire body is aching to be filled up by him as soon as the lace hits the ground; to feel the rage that’s coursing his veins and to experience it becoming unleashed upon you in the form of rough, brutal slamming.

You just want him so bad. Need him just as bad, too.

And your wish might just become a reality, because now you can hear his belt buckle becoming undone right behind you as he curses again quietly under his breath.

It feels like torturous aeons as you wait for him to do something, and then bliss hits as soon as he presses the tip of his cock against your sticky, slick-glimmering slit; nudging your puffy lips apart like he’s trying to make you beg for it. You can hear him spit into his palm. Can hear the lewd squelching noise as he lubes up his dick with his own saliva.

Honestly, you just might give him a plea or two, because the tiny bit of friction that happens whenever he pushes against you makes you want to slam your head right into the door he’s pressing you against. All until you’d be able to taste the splinters on your tongue and feel his cock bullying your womb.

“Ka-Katsuki…!” You cry out, hips bucking, body temperature rising, “Lemme have it, plea-ah, fuck…!”

He doesn’t even let you finish as he rams himself right between your unstretched walls that are eager to accept him, despite the lack of foreplay. He hisses from how tight you are as you claw against the door, toes curling within your pretty high heels as you attempt to stabilize yourself.

The alcohol that’s riddling your blood numbs the pain by the smallest fraction, but you can still feel the burn of the stretch with every inch he pushes inside your sticky warmth, now. You’re outright trembling at the sensation of being so full; can practically feel his cock throbbing inside your belly.

“Holy fuck, you’re tight as shit,” he groans out, the sound like a low rumble of a waking beast, “it’s like you’re fightin’ me on it.”

“I-I’d never, Kat,” you mewl out, your voice hoarse from the sob that’s bubbling up your throat. He can see your nose scrunch up from equal amounts of pain and pleasure as you turn to look at him. Your eyes seem to have gone glossy from the upcoming tears as you murmur a meek, “I love you.”

“Yeah, baby?” His lips find the crook of your neck as he whispers, “You love me? Only me?”

“Yes…!” you say as you bend further for him now, pressing your ass against his abdomen with that perfect arch of spine. He can see your curves sway and jiggle with the motion; can see the gleam of sweat on your skin as you add, “I love you s’much, Kat. Only you.”

Your voice is nothing but a smooth whimper. It‘s messing with his head, making him unable to fully comprehend the way you’re nearly melting against him as he at long last bottoms out.

Katsuki looks down as soon as you jump a bit and he realizes he’s balls deep inside you. He can see your smooth, clean-shaven pussy wrapping around his achingly hot girth. It's nearly eating him up as it attempts to start milking him right from the start.

His rosy lips purse, rough palms caressing your cute booty as he spits on the spot you connect and pushes the skirt of your dress even higher, so that he can get a better view.

The sleek sheen of his drool is practically mesmerizing on your skin. It mixes with your excitement before it starts to drip onto the wooden floorboards. Drip, drip, drip - you're leaking from how turned on you are. The curl of his smile is hard to repress from how pleased he feels about it.

“Pretty,” he mumbles, seemingly in somewhat of a trance at the ring of milky slick to gather and spurt down his dick, “my pretty girl… Takin' my cock so well. Gonna fuck you, now. Gonna slam you so fuckin’ good, baby.”

And before you can even reply, Katsuki starts to pound.

Your moans sound broken from how fast he gets harsher, sloppier - angrier. How his pace is so agonizingly slow, but he still manages to reach deep inside you with it as his hand finds your hip. So deep, in fact, that he’s kissing your cervix and branding your fucking soul with his name. Owning that soft, gushy spot within you that makes you want to lose your mind whenever he abuses it.

“Ka-Katsu... Mmph...!”

“Hah... That's it, baby. Show me how much you love me.”

And as he begins to unleash that fury of jealousy upon you; fucking you like a wild animal in heat and making you cry out his name and cream on his dick with such intensity that it makes your legs weak and your knees buck from exhaustion, you realize one thing:

He wants to prove a point.

And he won't stop until you accept it.

okay this is so cute i actually shed a tear

— FLICKER | kuroo x fem!reader

-> synopsis: harbouring old flames

-> cw: SFW, exes to lovers, mild hurt/comfort

-> wc: 5k

-> a/n: repost of another personal favourite 🫠

The last moment you spent with Kuroo was unremarkable.

“Swap.”

“But I like this one.”

“You know the rules.” With a resigned sigh you hand him your can of lychee soda, gingerly taking his bottle of aloe vera juice. Eyeing the cloudy, slightly greenish liquid, you grimace before you reluctantly raise it to your lips. You take a sip and wrinkle your nose in disgust.

“I can’t believe you actually like this shit.”

“Don’t be dramatic, you’ve just got childish taste buds, baby. Besides, it’s good for you”

“I do not!” you scoff, hitting his shoulder lightly.

“Uh-huh, this is coming from the girl who drinks artificially flavoured sugar juice.”

“Give it back then if you don’t like it,” you huff, making a grab for it.

“No.” He holds the can out of reach of your outstretched hand, which is not much of a feat considering how long his arms are. “It’s mine now.”

“But you don’t even like it!” you whine.

“Don’t care,” he shrugs, taking a sip.

“Even if all your teeth fall out from the sugar, old man?” You raise an eyebrow challengingly - using his own words against him.

“I’ll get dentures,” he grins, throwing you a teasing wink. “I’m sure I can make the fake teeth work. Anything’s possible when you look like this.”

“Oh shut up will you.” You scowl at him, slumping back down on his bed beside him and sipping at the remainder of his drink in annoyance, pushing down the strong urge to spit it at him. It would be funny, and maybe start a gross little war between you, but you’re not really in the mood for that right now.

Silence falls between you again, an obnoxiously frequent visitor on this clear, starry night. Your head falls on Kuroo’s shoulder just as his arm finds your waist and tucks you closer into his side, fingers tracing shapes over your hip. A few months ago, he would be laughing nervously and trying his hardest to play it cool, all while a hot blush lit up his cheekbones and ears. There’s very few traces of that shy boy left. You miss him a little.

“Feels weird now that we’ve graduated,” you muse. “It’s all downhill from here.”

“Don’t be such a pessimist, y/n,” he scolds lightly. “We’ve got our whole lives ahead of us!”

“Here we go.”

You groan as he starts his rant about life and things that are too abstract and far away into the future to think about. Turning your head, you watch him excitedly talk about possibilities and plans and your heart weighs down in your chest.

This will be the last time.

“Tetsu,” you interrupt quietly.

“Yeah?”

“I want you to forget me after I’ve left.” You can feel how Kuroo tenses all of a sudden, the lines of his body stilling as his grip on you tightens protectively. Defiantly.

“Woah. Why would I do that?” he asks slowly. You sigh heavily, sitting up so that you can look at him. He knows why. You’ve had this conversation before, several times in fact.

“To make it easier. For both of us. We’ve talked about this before, and I’ve been thinking that it would be best.” you tell him gently, even though every cell in your body tells you not to.

“But I don’t want to forget you,” he says stubbornly. “And who exactly is this easier for? Don’t you even want to try making this work long distance? I think we can do it.”

“I don’t want to end up resenting you.” Kuroo’s brow pinches together. “What if I neglect you, or you neglect me? What then? What if we start hating each other?”

“You won’t! We’ll call and text everyday, it’ll be like you never left! That’s what technology is for, sweetheart.”

“But we’ll only manage to squeeze in a couple of hours each day at best because of the timezone difference and even then we might not manage that. You know it doesn’t make sense,” you point out. Your tone softens as you take his hand in yours, running your thumb soothingly over his knuckles. “You’re usually so logical, Tetsu, this isn’t like you.”

Kuroo sighs, tugging you in to rest against his chest. It’s so natural now, so effortless, how you fall into each other’s embrace. Like being there was written for you from the start.

“Not always. Love isn’t logical y’know,” he murmurs into your hair. “Love tells me that I should keep you here, safe in my arms, not let you go halfway across the world for university.”

“Tetsu, you know-“

“I know, I know. Believe me, I know. I’d never hold you back, no matter what. But you can’t ask me to be logical when every inch of me refuses to let you go. You can’t ask me to forget you because I would never be able to. How could I ever forget someone I love?”

You cling to him more tightly, cursing every divine power that has decided to wedge itself between you. Why the fuck has life led you in this direction? It’s cruel. Unfair.

“And despite what you say, I know you won’t forget me either. Doing this now, or before you leave, or not at all, is going to hurt us at some point.”

“Well, what do you suggest?”

You sit up to look at him again, meeting his melancholic eyes that mirror your own turmoil. Tenderly, he brushes your hair back, fingers lingering on your cheek.

“You might be right about the long distance thing not working so we’ll do it your way still, as much as I don’t want to. But only because you think it’s best. For tonight though, I want you to pretend with me. Let’s pretend that you’re not leaving me next week, and that we’ll see each other tomorrow, and the day after, and every day after that.”

“Will that help?” you ask sadly. He smiles ruefully and shakes his head, his dark hair bouncing with the action.

“No. But I don’t wanna be sad just yet.”

And you do just that. You talk and laugh, share stories and snacks, holding onto each other all the while through kisses and giggles. It’s pure bliss. But it’s sullied by the ticking of the clock on his wall that you can’t help but repeatedly glance at.

And as the clock nears midnight and you know it’s time to leave, your heart begins to ache desperately.

His hands rest on your hips as you stand before his closed door. When your lips meet, it’s not like your usual goodbye kisses, which are sweet and chaste. This kiss quickly becomes a deep, needy, yearning thing that you can’t pull yourself out of. You drown in the sensation of his slightly chapped lips, get lost in the taste of his still-shy tongue, melt right into the contours of his body.

You don’t even realise the two of you are crying until you pull away. You’re breathless and sobbing a little, clinging to him so tightly you’re sure it hurts him, but it doesn’t matter.

Leaving hurts more.

“I don’t wanna go, Tetsu,” you whisper. “I wanna stay with you.” He kisses your tears away, resting his forehead against yours and squeezing your frame.

“I’m not dying or anything, why are you crying?” he teases wetly.

“You’re crying too, dumbass.”

“So what if I am?” he sniffles, pressing tender kisses to your forehead. “My pretty girl’s leaving me forever.”

“I don’t want to, Tetsu.”

“I know, but you’ll be okay, baby. We’ll be okay,” he says, shushing you gently, but neither of you believe it for a second.

And why would you?

You’re 18. Young and stupid. Freshly graduated with the world at your feet and the whole of adulthood stretching on before you, a winding path that you can’t fully see.

And yet, this is your world, right here in your arms.

All this time, he has been by your side, naturally, but he won’t be following you into the great unknown, as much as he wishes he could. He’s seeing you off on your journey now, parting ways with you as he embarks on his own, in a different direction, even though he wants you to stay with him. He watches you from the front door as you leave, blowing you a kiss and yelling his love after your retreating figure.

This is what it means to grow up.

This is goodbye.

And you both fucking hate it.

It takes a good while to nurse your broken hearts, made more difficult by the fact that you have to adjust to new environments and new people as you heal. But you grieve and you grow and the years pass by in the blink of an eye.

Seven years have passed since that tearful night. Seven years of study, study, study and then work, work, work. You moved back to Japan a year or so after graduating university, homesick from so many years away. You visited during that time of course, but it wasn’t quite the same as living out your daily life in the hustle and bustle of Tokyo.

And maybe, just maybe, a small part of you dreamed that you would bump into him. Wishful thinking perhaps, but you couldn’t quite tamp down all of your feelings towards the rooster-haired captain. There’s still a small flame flickering in the depths of your heart just for him and it’s this very flame that keeps you warm on some nights.

You wonder if that same flame burns in his own chest for you.

The convenience store is a welcome reprieve from the summer heat that bears down on you intensely. The sounds of passing cars is muffled as the doors slide shut behind you, leaving only the whir of the air conditioner and the gentle warble of a pop group playing quietly over the speakers.

You drift towards the back where the fridges are situated, absently inspecting bags of snacks as you pass and touching a box of pocky before changing your mind and continuing on. There’s a blast of cool air when you pull the fridge door open and hold it there with your hip as you scan the selection of beverages on display. There’s one in particular that catches your eye, conjuring a memory forth from the depths of your mind.

With a nostalgic smile, you reach in and grasp the can of lychee soda, only for your hand to bump into one much larger than yours.

“Ah, sorry about that,” says a smooth, deep voice. The sound sends a chill down your spine that has nothing to do with the temperature of the open fridge.

But it can’t be, can it?

Hopeful curiosity lifts your head to look for the owner of the voice, and you have to crane your neck a little just to look up at his face. Dark hair, still messy, but more tamed than it was in his youth - now it looks deliberate. Sharp jaw, elegant nose, and those eyes, warm hazel - almost amber, and strangely feline in shape. He doesn’t look the same but he doesn’t look different either. Just a taller (somehow) more handsome and mature version of his younger self. In a suit no less, only it’s paired with volleyball shoes.

You would probably laugh out loud if your mouth didn’t feel so dry, like you’ve just eaten a fistful of sand as you gape up at him with a mix of shock and wonder.

“I must be dreaming right now,” you whisper to yourself and the man sniggers, still inspecting the can in his hand.

Oh. That’s still the same.

“Are you talking to-“ he falters as his eyes flick to your face. “-me.”

His face mirrors your own and you’re not sure how long you stand there, fridge wide open, until someone mumbles ‘excuse me’ and shakes you from your respective trances. You wait for them to leave before you dare to look at each other again.

“Tetsu?” It feels a little foreign saying his name again after so long. And yet, the weight of it sits familiar on your tongue, the roll of each syllable feels natural as it passes your lips.

“Y/n?” You wonder if your name tastes the same to him, if it reminds him of home the way that his does for you. “Is that you?”

“Uh, yeah. Hi.” You awkwardly raise a hand in greeting.

“Hi,” he says, sounding as dazed as you feel. “Almost didn’t recognise you. You look… different.”

“So do you. It’s been a while,” you offer lamely. He was never this hard to talk to, but you suppose that time is a thief that is impossible to catch, stealing the ease that you built your relationship on.

“Yeah. It has.”

“Seven years,” you murmur with a touch of melancholy.

“Where did the time go?”

You both fall silent, there in the snack aisle of a convenience store in Tokyo, in the middle of summer, wondering what you should say next. Wondering what is appropriate after so much time has passed.

Because you’ve both grown. A lot. Physically, mentally, emotionally. You’re hardly the same people you were seven years ago. It’s stupid of you to even entertain the idea that he could fall in love with you again, but you entertain it all the same.

You’d never admit it aloud, but on some of your loneliest nights, you’d fantasise about what could happen if you met again. How you’d fall back together so easily, how you’d be so in love, the way that you used to be. Maybe you’d move in together, get a pet together, maybe you’d get married and have a family. Maybe you’d grow old with the only boy you’d ever loved so earnestly, so boundlessly, despite being so young.

It’s Kuroo that finally breaks the silence.

“Let’s catch up,” he says, with a crooked grin. “For old times sake.”

You pay for your drinks and head back out into the sun. It’s odd, you think. Tokyo is familiar and Kuroo is familiar, as well as the drink in your hand but it still feels strange to you. You’re in a different part of the city because of your new job and the brand of soda you like has changed their recipe.

And then there’s Kuroo.

His gait is, regrettably, longer than it used to be, as is the height at which you stand next to him. He sounds different, dresses different, he even smells different. Back then, he used to smell like far too much body spray and his grandma's honeysuckle detergent. Now? The scent coming off him is expensive and thoroughly masculine - it’s honestly incredibly sexy.

You cast him a sideways glance, belatedly noticing the can that he sips at. It’s identical to yours and you can’t help but scoff aloud.

“I thought you said that stuff was full of sugar?” Kuroo turns to look at you curiously as you both slow to a stop and point at him accusingly. “Remember? You used to nag me for drinking it.” Your lips push out in a pout at the memory of his lecture, and he laughs.

The sound transports you back to high school, to a time where you’re still boyfriend and girlfriend, two peas in a pod, no longer clad in office wear but in your school uniforms. Kuroo’s hair is horrendous, tangled hopelessly by the wind that blows through it. You’re holding hands and bickering, but still laughing. Always laughing.

“That’s cos you used to drink it every day,” he says, the corner of his mouth lifting in that goddamn smirk. “And it’s addictive.”

“Ah-ha! That means you’re addicted to it now too! Ain’t karma a little bitch? Maybe you’ll think twice before lecturing someone about their choice in drink!” you proclaim triumphantly. He rolls his eyes, amused by your smug expression.

“And!” you add with a jab of your finger. “I haven’t had this stuff in years! It’s hard to find across the pond.” Kuroo hums, taking another sip.

“I’m not addicted to it,” he says, quirking his brow challengingly. “I still don’t like it.”

“Oh really? Then why did you get it?” You narrow your eyes at him as he shakes his head, smile softening.

“It’s a secret,” he says, tapping his nose with a wink before he continues to walk. Your eyes narrow in a glare as you jog after him and attempt to fall back in step with him.

“Slow down would ya! Long legged bastard,” you grumble under your breath.

“What did you just call me?” he asks quietly. You freeze, clapping a hand over your mouth as realisation dawns on you. You can’t joke with him like that anymore.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-” He cackles at the look on your face, doubling over right there in the middle of the street. You fix him with a deadpan look, arms folded over your chest, thoroughly unimpressed.

“I’m kidding, relax! God you should see your face, baby!”

This time, you both freeze, and the illusion shatters. A soft pink stains his cheeks as his ears and brain catch up to his tongue and heart. 25 and he’s still not immune to blushing. 25 and it still makes him look hopelessly sweet. 25 and it still makes your heart swell.

“I didn’t- shit, I’m so sorry! It just slipped out,” he yelps, panic widening his eyes. You’re not quite sure what to say to him. The pet name echoes in your ears and thunders in your chest, reawakening butterflies with Kuroo’s name scrawled across the delicate wings. Your own cheeks feel warm.

“Easy mistake to make,” you say shyly. “Don’t worry about it.” He clears his throat nervously and sips at his drink to give himself something to do, your own fingers fiddling with the carrier bag in your hand.

“I er, I know a pretty good ice cream place about 5 minutes away from here. We can catch up there?”

“Sounds good.”

Your walk resumes and you’re both quiet again, until the little bell above the door chimes and you’re standing at the counter, poring over the selection behind the glass.

Kuroo has brought you to a quaint little spot, tucked away between an electronics shop and a bakery. Inside, it’s cool and vibrant, the pastel palette running through the space brightening your mood a little. It doesn’t take either of you long to make your choices, taking your cones and finding a little booth in the back to sit at.

Perhaps it’s a little odd for two adults in their mid-twenties to be sat in an ice cream parlour, nibbling at cones and searching for something to say that sounds nonchalant. But Kuroo did say this was for the sake of old times, and what better way to plunge you into the past than a quiet booth and some ice cream.

“So,” you start, but you don’t know how to finish.

“So,” he copies, drawing the word out. You raise an eyebrow at him, licking at your ice cream and he mirrors you, holding the expression before you both snort and burst into laughter.

“Fucking hell, stop being weird!” you giggle.

“I’m not!”

“You’re making that face!”

“Speak for yourself! Look, I just didn’t expect to run into you of all people on my way home,” he says with a grin.

“Neither did I!” His eyes soften as he smiles, crinkling at the corners.

“So how have you been?”

And just like that, you feel right at home again. You talk and laugh, smile brighter and bigger than you have in years. The cones have long since been polished off and you’re still occupying the booth, any concept of time tossed out the window. It’s not long before your catch-up of the present bleeds into reminiscing on the past.

“And then Bokuto slipped and fell right into you!”

“I remember that, I would’ve fallen flat on my face if you hadn’t caught me. You never did let that go, I swear, you milked that shit for ages,” you complain, pouting in annoyance.

“You have to admit that line was pretty smooth!” He puffs his chest out a little with pride and you roll your eyes.

You mock his deep timbre. “‘Are you falling for me?’”

“It was cool!”

“It was cheesy!” you both laugh at the memory, letting the feeling of nostalgia linger over you like a warm blanket just a little while longer.

“We had some good times together,” he hums and you nod, smiling wistfully at the memories you’ve been submerging yourselves in.

“We did.”

“I miss the days when we were together. I really loved you,” he says quietly, warm eyes burning with sincerity.

“I did too.” You heart thuds heavily in your chest at the implications in his gaze but you force yourself to rein it in and squash the hope that flutters there. “But we were so young.”

“So?” He almost sounds offended. “Does that mean it didn’t count or something?”

“No, I’m not saying that.” You shake your head and sigh. “I’m just saying, I’m sure you’ve dated other people since then and fallen in love again. Real love, not the silly delusions of a teen.”

“Our love was real.”

Your breath hitches then at the fire in his eyes, a fire that you recognise, the same as the one that burns quietly in the depths of your heart. You try to shift his attention.

“Aren’t you dating anyone right now?” you ask hesitantly, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.

“No,” he says fiercely, but then he cools a bit and leans back in his seat. “No. I’m not. I’ve tried, but… Nothing ever stuck. Did you ever have any luck?”

“I tried too,” you murmur. “But I couldn’t love them in the right way.”

Not the way I loved you.

The air between you becomes heavy with words unsaid crowding the tips of your tongues all at once, piling against your teeth and begging to break free. Kuroo calls your name, and your belly flutters in the way that it used to.

“Y/n,” he says and it’s so soft, so Kuroo, that your heart aches. You watch him carefully, waiting for him to keep speaking with bated breath. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Yeah.”

He sucks in a shaky breath and adds another secret to the pile housed deep in your heart, still kept firmly under lock and key.

“I drink them when I miss you.”

You pause, brow furrowing in confusion.

“Drink what?”

Kuroo’s expression turns exasperated as he runs a hand through his neater-than-it-used-to-be hair. The blush from before returns, tinging his ears red with embarrassment.

“The lychee soda.”

Oh.

Oh.

“So… today?”

He nods sheepishly, covering his face with his hand.

“How was I supposed to know I’d bump into you?” he mumbles again. You say nothing, marvelling at the man before you instead. Still as sweet as the day you met him. Years have passed, and so many things have changed. And yet somehow, Kuroo remembers you the way that you remember him.

No, not remember, he misses you the way that you miss him, still finding comfort in the warmth of that flame, just like you.

“Tetsu-”

“Weird right?” he chuckles humourlessly and you shake your head no.

“Not really,” you say, fiddling with the napkin in front of you. “You did say you wouldn’t forget me.”

“True,” he hums.

“If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t forget you either.”

“You didn’t?” A warm flush creeps up your own cheeks this time as you nod and give in a little.

“I missed you, Tetsu. I know it’s been such a long time, and holding onto hope that I’d see you again is probably really fucking unhealthy but-“

“I couldn’t help it,” you say simultaneously.

Slowly, identical giddy grins spread over your faces and you find yourselves giggling like teenagers all over again.

“Let me take you out tomorrow,” Kuroo says suddenly with that lopsided grin that you fell in love with all those years ago.

“On a date?”

“If you want it to be. Seeing you again, it’s just-“ you halt him with a raised hand, a teasing grin playing at your lips as your head cocks to the side.

“Tell me about it on our date, yeah?”

And he does. The date with Kuroo is truly magical. He’s a picture perfect gentleman, coming to pick you up with a bouquet of roses in hand and a happy grin on his face. It seems that both of you have dressed to impress, Kuroo dressed neatly in a crisp white shirt and charcoal trousers whilst you spent hours scouring your wardrobe for the perfect dress. It’s honestly a little ridiculous when you think back on it since you knew each other so well already, so why would you need to impress each other?

But that was then, and this now.

There seems to be a goal in Kuroo’s mind as he helps you out of his shiny black Jaguar, leading you into quite a fancy looking restaurant. It’s clear he’s spared no expenses for the occasion. You eat and drink and laugh, allowing yourselves to get pulled back together again, like magnets. The flames in your hearts burn brighter, more fiercely with each passing moment, until you can feel the warmth spread throughout your bodies, lapping gently through your veins.

As the night draws to a close and he drives you home, full, content and sleepy, you feel more whole than you’ve felt in the entirety of your adult life. You glance to the side, taking in his beautiful profile, that exquisite jawline and the curve of his lips that you want to feel again.

You wonder if they taste the same as they did back in high school. If they still taste like the gum he used to chew or those ghastly health drinks he was obsessed with. Sometimes, he’d chase you around right after eating mackerel, threatening to kiss you with the strong flavour of fish still lingering in his mouth. Are his lips still a little chapped and does he still grin into his kisses as his fingers rest on your cheek? Does he still make that sweet little humming noise in the back of his throat that sounds like laughter and does he still wear a goofy smile when he pulls away?

All thoughts of kissing him are shaken from your mind as he kills the engine and walks you all the way to the front door of your apartment. You unlock the door and turn to say goodbye, a little sad that the night has to end. Kuroo rests his arm against the door frame above his head, car keys dangling from his hand and a lazy smile sitting comfortably on his handsome features.

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” he says.

“Me too.”

“I guess I’ll see you soon?”

Those words should be followed closely with a goodbye, but Kuroo lingers, as does his gaze, flicking from your eyes to your lips and back again.

“Kiss me if I’m wrong,” he says after a beat of silence. “But you kissed me on our first ever date, didn’t you?” You hum thoughtfully, an impish grin rounding your cheeks.

“No I didn’t actually. It was the second and it was on the cheek cos you looked like you were gonna pass out when I got close to your lips.”

“I did not!” he whined indignantly.

“Did too,” you shrug.

“That’s bullshit,” he mumbles. “Anyway, I’m wrong so now you have to kiss me. Let me overwrite that first kiss.”

“How? We’ve kissed a million times before,” you argue.

“That was then, this is now. We’re restarting this whole thing.”

“We are?” You raise an eyebrow in question and he simply nods, cocksure and firm.

“We are.”

“Says who?”

“Me.” Kuroo takes a step forward and suddenly there’s very little space between you. “So? Will you let me have a redo?” he murmurs.

“You can try. The first time was pretty sweet.”

With that, his hands slip around your waist and pull you flush against his firm body. When his lips slant down over yours, you still have to reach up to meet him, eyes fluttering shut as your lips meet after seven years apart.

He is all you remember and so much more, so much better than before, as if that were even possible. You learn that he tastes sweet like dessert, but he still tastes like your Tetsu. He grins against your lips as you press closer and you praise whoever the fuck convinced him to regularly use chapstick because his lips are so soft and pliant. His kisses are dizzyingly good, addictive and sensual, his fingers resting against the back of your neck whilst his palm sits in the curve of it. You sigh into his mouth, one of relief, because you’re finally home.

Where you belong.

As fate intended.

When Kuroo pulls away, there’s a sparkle in his eyes and he smiles so sweetly you think that sugar will never taste the same again. He brushes a stray lock of your hair back, letting his thumb linger over the warm apple of your cheek.

“Can I say something?”

“Yeah.”

“I have to warn you, it’s a little unconventional for a rebooted first date,” he chuckles.

Then, his expression becomes a little more serious. “But I really, really fucking love you and I don’t think I ever stopped.” Your heart swells and spills over as his grip on your waist tightens.

“I love you too,” you say, and you really can’t resist so you tug him back towards your lips and kiss him again.

“So.”

Again

“So.”

And again.

“So much.”

Fate nods and lets you love him all over again.

LMFAO

a new art from the queen herself <3 happy birthday to me

yes please i need one stat

tshirt that says "IF U ASK ME ABOUT MY CAREER I WILL KILL MYSELF IN FRONT OF U"

has a breakdown about what a lonely life it is. goes for a walk with headphones in. purchases a beverage at the supermarket. you know how it goes

it’s my birthday tomorrow i can’t believe i’m 19 already 😭 take me back to 2016 i don’t wanna grow up yet

i’d go down on my knee immediately

don’t know if i’ll propose or do something else but i would definitely kneel

i have to write this now

I blog for the girls who cry on their birthdays and lose a little bit of themselves during the summer months

nut sorting room

tagging system

ei.poppycock - all my bs and rambles ei.nsfw - posts i wouldn’t let anyone i know irl see ei.sfw - posts safe for everyone to see

ei.bubblegum - books/fics that live in my head rent free ei.chocolate - edits/films i love and adore ei.cotton candy - fanarts/pictures i’d like to be tattooed on my forehead ei.marshmallow - playlists i’ve created you could listen to

cw/tw: [keyword] - tags to block if needed tw: non-con, tw: dub-con tw: kidnapping, tw: stalking, tw: violence tw: incest, tw: pseudo-incest tw: cheating cw: age gap

about

about the chocolatier

greetings, starshine!

name: ei age: 19 pronouns: she/her big three: leo sun, aries moon, and capricorn rising location: southeast asia likes: rom books, chick flicks, webtoons, cats, decors and furniture, smut, strawberries and mangoes, anything sweet

about the factory

this blog primarily contains my fic recs, playlists, and some ramblings from me. please be warned that i read and reblog posts containing dark, nsfw themes and interact with dark content creators; and so, those under the age of 18 should not follow or interact with me. thank you sm.

if anyone wishes to talk to me, feel free to do so. it doesn’t have to be anything serious; could just thirst for a character or rant about your day; anything goes as long as it follows my rules.

that is all, xoxo.

golden ticket

blog rules

1. no minors allowed! you have to be 18+ to follow and interact with me. 2. if you are not comfortable seeing dark content, do not follow me. 3. do not be rude. please take your hateful comments somewhere else; i don’t need that energy here, respectfully.

inbox rules

stuff i’ll accept with open arms: ♡ any recs (books, fics, films, mangas, manhwas) ♡ edits, memes ♡ questions you have for me ♡ confessions, life updates you wish to share (this is a safe space, i won’t judge you for anything) ♡ thirsts, whoreknee thoughts about a character since i am a slut myself especially for nanami k and jean k ♡ nsfw fics, gfx, links—just anything nsfw (but put a heads up)

stuff i won’t accept: ○ hateful comments ○ self-injurious behavior ○ suicide, suicidal ideation

welcome to the factory, i shake you warmly by the hand!

NAVIGATION

desktop golden ticket. some guidelines before entering/interacting about the chocolatier. the owner’s introduction about the factory. know more about the blog nut sorting room. tagging system to sort everything out

mobile golden ticket. some guidelines before entering/interacting about the chocolatier. the owner’s introduction about the factory. know more about the blog nut sorting room. tagging system to sort everything out

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