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#and every x reader tag with his name is also tagged with katsuki bakugou :
shotoh · 2 years
Text
all mine
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SYNOPSIS: Bakugou decides to put his delusional secretary in their place.
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pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader
word count: 9.6k+
genre: fluff, SMUT, maybe a smidgen of angst
tags/warnings: 18+! minors dni! reader is not the secretary, basically this other lady is trying to seduce your man but katsuki isn’t falling for it! marking, exhibitionism, oral (f!receiving), riding, soft!bakugou but also mean!bakugou, humiliation (not really at reader), a couple spanks, office sex, praise, degradation, pet names (baby, princess, angel), crude language
author’s notes: this is very overdue, like incredibly overdue LOL i started this wip last year but could only continue writing during random bouts of inspiration. so i apologize if the smut is a little half-assed and if the characterization is questionable. but enjoy my late kinktober 2022 present to y’all 
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The sound of Dynamight’s heavy boots hitting the floor resonate throughout the wide hallways of his agency, drowning out the heels clicking behind him. A woman quickens her pace in an attempt to catch up to the impatient blond hero, rushing into his peripheral vision.
“Sir? Oh Bakugou sir~” The dulcet chime calling him is sickly sweet, enough to make him grimace. “I need you to look over these reports before I file them away.” She whips out one of the thick packets of papers clutch to her chest, bringing his steps to a halt which makes the hero point a glare at her.
“How many times do I have to fucking tell you that you’re suppose to call me by my hero name.” Malice coats his words, dripping off his tongue as he swipes the reports from her fingers. The woman, to the hero’s annoyance, indulges in his feisty attitude.
“Aw, but ‘Bakugou’ is more fitting given how closely we work together!” She waves off his displeasure, hoping her excessively cheerful personality can tone him down. “I am your secretary, after all.” She leans into his space, too damn close for his liking by how he could get a whiff of her pungent perfume. The overbearing scent has him side-stepping to create more distance between them.
The blond rolls his eyes before giving the papers in his hand a once-over, not even granting her the satisfaction of eye contact. “You work at a Pro-Hero agency, not some ordinary office job.”
Normally, he isn’t one to admonish any of his employees unless they’re his sidekicks. He’s always out and about on missions, never dawdling around the office long enough to find anything to scold them about. So long as they were competent at their job, he never had to give them any earfuls. But this woman here has been testing that resolve.
A month into her new position, his secretary has been greeting him every morning with far more energy than should be considered possible at such an hour. Her regular tasks shouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary. She was mostly tasked with filing villain reports and contacting other Pro-Hero agencies, but her enthusiasm warrants him to think otherwise.
She deliberately shares elevator rides with him, droning on and on about god knows what before getting off at her floor, ending their dull conversations with winks and wide-eyed smiles that make him want to gag. It’s one thing to be genuinely excited about your job, but it’s another thing to be attached to your boss at the hip. She’s at his beck and call when he doesn’t even ask for her.
One can chalk this up to her simply gunning for a promotion, buttering up her boss to garner his favor. However, Bakugou isn’t an idiot. He can read the air, deciphering the meaning behind her words and advances. Her deceptive guise of a hardworking secretary beneath those batting eyelashes is easily uncovered by him.
If she was really trying so hard for a promotion she’d approach him with more important topics in mind. Statistics, analysis, updates on villain activity and hero work. Y’know, discussions that would actually benefit his agency rather than waste his time.
Instead, Bakugou stands there listening to… this.
“You know, I’ve been thinking,” her voice drifts off as she taps a finger against her bottom lip pensively, “we should consider holding a party to get to know all our co-workers better!” she proposes. The blond narrows his brows incredulously at her suggestion.
Oblivious to his lack of interest, she moves closer to him, caressing a hand along his hard bicep. She tip-toes her fingers up his arm before flattening her digits next to his ear to whisper, “Company members only, of course. But I’m sure we’d still have a fun time even if it was just the two of us, right?”
Recognizing the suggestive lilt in her tone, he shoves her off of him without even touching her, abruptly tossing his shoulder back. The secretary freezes and comes across the peeved expression on the explosion hero’s rough features.
“We’re here to beat villains and protect civilians, not throw dumb parties.”
“But–”
“Shut it,” he retorts harshly, not letting the bewildered look on the secretary’s face demur him. He shoves the reports back in her arms. “Just do your damn job.” With his brows taut behind his mask, the blond glares hard at her, watching her fumble with the papers before he resumes the rhythm of his combat boots stepping down the hallway. The hero gives her one last glance over his shoulder.
“And remember, it’s Dynamight to you.”
.
.
Man, what an annoying woman.
Is the thought that plagues Bakugou’s mind as he stands beneath the running water in his shower, washing away the sweat and grime accumulated from another busy day of heroics. Yet he still can’t get the irritating thoughts in his head to do the same.
His fingers weave the shampoo through his spikey locks, the pads of his digits massaging his scalp. Glancing at his reflection in the foggy, glass screen door, he meets his scowling mug.
“Tryna get in my pants and shit… Worry about keeping your damn job,” he grumbles to himself exasperatedly. What he finds especially annoying is knowing his secretary will start the day again tomorrow as if nothing happened. Even with Bakugou’s firm stance at wanting to keep things strictly professional, she’s going to continue getting up in his space, trying to caress her nails up his arm, and stink up the place with what he swore was five different kinds of perfume sprayed on her clothes.
But Bakugou’s not some oblivious fool. He can recognize from a mile away what her goal is and he absolutely wants no part in it.
Besides...
“Katsuki! Dinner will be ready when you’re done showering!”
His head swivels toward the door of the bathroom. “Yeah I heard ya!”
He’s already got someone deserving of his time and affection.
You.
“’Kay!” you reply, voice gradually growing louder. Bakugou hears your feet plodding toward the bathroom door just as the door creaks open slightly. “I’ll leave you a new towel to use after you’re done showering, too.” Even through the steam, he can recognize your silhouette peeking inside to drop the towel off. Unbeknownst to you, behind the cloudy glass door of the shower there’s a smile that finds his lips.
After washing the lather off his hair and body, he shuts the water. The last streams falling from the showerhead glide down his skin, joining the suds on the floor before they all disappear down the drain. As the thick steam surrounding him dissipates, he covers his toned body in the towel you left for him.
While patting down the excess droplets cascading his blond locks, Bakugou puts on some sweatpants, but forgoes his t-shirt for now, leaving it hanging over his shoulder. He continues rubbing the towel around his torso as he exits the bathroom.
The savory aroma of thick cheeses and tomato sauces hits Bakugou’s nose the moment he enters the kitchen. He stops in his tracks to take in the pleasant smells, along with the sight in front of his eyes that effortlessly forms a grin on his face.
Your soft hums accompany the harmonious atmosphere of the kitchen. Bakugou’s ruby eyes rove over you shimmying your way around an array of pans and plates like you own the place (which you essentially do), watching you finish piecing your dinner together with a generous sprinkle of garnish and spices.
Eyes never leaving you, an expression of admiration and fondness paints his usually hardened face. With arms crossed over his chest, he could just stand there, admire you, and be more than wholly content. You could do the most mundane things and still have him wrapped around your finger—not that he’d ever mention that to you out loud of course. Occasionally, Bakugou wonders how he ever got so lucky with you in the first place.
You’re so blissfully unaware of your hotheaded boyfriend lurking nearby. It’s all the more apparent by how you abruptly pause as soon as you discover him idling in the kitchen doorway in all of his half-naked glory.
The blond doesn’t let the fact that you’re practically ogling his hard muscle slip past him, and definitely doesn’t miss your moment of hesitation before you avert your gaze, your cheeks growing hot. It brings a smirk to his face and his ego through the roof.
Bakugou tosses his towel and t-shirt somewhere off the side before coming to you. “What? Getting flustered or something, babe?” he taunts. His deep tone hovers next to your ear as his chest touches your back. His hands are on either side of you, trapping you against the counter.
“That fuckin’ hot that I got you this speechless?” His breath is so close to you, he just knows you have goosebumps trailing down your spine. He can tell by the heat swirling in your cheeks just how much he has an effect on you and he absolutely loves how easily he can get you flustered.
Though he can’t say he’s all but immune to your charms, either. He trails a calloused hand up your bare thigh and hips, giving your ass a firm squeeze through your booty shorts which causes a yelp to flee your lips.
Fuckin’ hell.
The way you were dancing around in these things, tip-toeing to reach high cabinets that caused the shorts to ride up slightly and give him a glimpse of the plushness peeking past the fabric already had Bakugou half-hard simply standing behind you. But being able to touch what was essentially his started to make the material of his sweatpants absolutely suffocating.
In a single motion, he spins you around. Your back is pinned against the counter as you’re forced to face him. The cocky grin plastered on his lips greets you.
Finally grasping your composure, you raise an eyebrow at him. “For someone who wanted to take a shower as soon as their stinky-self got home, you sure are eager to get dirty again,” you retort, tracing your hands up his arms to place them on his broad shoulders. “Work didn’t get you sweaty enough?”
The blond chuckles lowly at your cheekiness. His face inches closer, mere centimeters away from your lips. “I could go for an extra workout,” he says huskily, voice dissipating with the shortening distance between you.
His eyes are lidded as he targets your lips, hands leaving the edge of the counter in favor of wrapping his arms around your waist. To his surprise, when he darts forward he meets nothing but air.
Hearing your giggles beside him breaks the tension between you. He opens his eyes and discovers that you’ve tilted your head out of the way. Before he can open his mouth to spit a retort, you rest your head against his shoulder, arms winding at his neck.
“Food’s gonna get cold, big boy,” you hum.
The noise that leaves his gritted teeth is practically a growl. “Dun care about the food–” His hands at your sides play with the waistband of your shorts. “Would rather eat you out on this counter.”
He watches you gulp down the lump in your throat, finding the idea tempting as a dull throb aches between your legs. But to his dismay, you don’t want to let him indulge in you just yet.
You lean forward to kiss his cheek to prepare him for your next words, “First and foremost, dinner. And then I'll let you do whatever you want with me. How’s that?” You tiptoe to peck his nose one more time for good measure before wriggling free from his clutches. You shuffle away to the steaming hot food you left on the other end of the counter.
Pink swathes his cheeks as Bakugou stands there dumbfounded. He rubs the back of his head, his brows furrowing in frustration.
“You’re killing me here, dammit.”
You let out another dulcet giggle. The urge to sneak up on you again to try to get you all hot and bothered lingers until it’s interrupted by a piece of fabric thrown in his face. “Also, shirt on we please.” You turn back at him with two plates of stuffed ravioli perched on each hand. “No shirt, no service.”
He yanks the white t-shirt off his face, grimacing as he begrudgingly pulls it over his head. “Yeah, yeah. You love it though.” Nonetheless, he follows behind you while the savory aroma of your food creates a path toward the dining table. The scent alone makes his stomach growl, the effects of a long day at work making themselves apparent.
Despite the antics he has to put up with, he can’t help but soften around you. It’s as if you possess an innate ability to effortlessly get him to shed his notoriously rough exterior.
He takes a seat on his side of the table, his stomach now growling loud enough for you to hear. You tease a wry grin before placing the ravioli dishes on the table, letting the delicious aromas waft around him, his mouth watering.
“I know it’s been a long day for you so you better eat up, hero.”
The blond’s eyes flicker for a second, chest enveloped with pride as he meets the look on your face that awaits for him in anticipation to dig in. “Yeah… Thanks for the meal,” he murmurs, mild gratitude woven in his words as he picks up the fork and finally chows down.
Again, what did he ever do to deserve you? He knows how hard you work each and every day. The fact that you’re still willing to love and take care of him is enough for him to want to cherish you for an eternity. Coming home to the person he loves and sharing meals with them is a blessing to him as it is and he absolutely wouldn’t trade this for anything else.
Which just makes the matter of his secretary all the more annoying to him.
The damn woman has walked in his office plenty of times to see the framed picture of you two on his desk, even occasionally interrupting his phone calls with you that would end with him mouthing low “love yous” before he’d have to turn around to acknowledge the petty expression resting on her face. He’d watch as her demeanor quickly shifted into a full 180—from a bitter frown to a forced grin to keep up her facade. She definitely knows he’s in a happy, committed relationship. The real question is whether or not she cares enough to acknowledge the fact.
He could just fire her for unprofessionalism. That seems like an obvious solution, but knowing her, she’d probably feed the media some false rumors about alleged abuse towards his employees. Of course, that wouldn’t at all be true. Far from it, but the news loved to twist the truth so long as it got them clicks. Given Bakugou’s naturally rugged demeanor, it wouldn’t be hard for the public to buy their shit and for his ranking on the hero chart to plummet. Which Bakugou could not afford right now considering how close he was to the top.
“’Tsuki, stop playing with your food.” He hears you chide, tugging him from his contemplation.
Bakugou huffs, jamming his fork onto the plate. “I’m not a damn kid.”
“Right, tell that to the ravioli you’re mangling with your fork.” You raise your brow and point at his stabbed and defeated pasta, the filling oozing out from the punctured holes. He keeps his gaze suspiciously fixed on the ravioli.
Does it taste bad? You wonder warily. “If you don’t like it then you don’t have to eat it, y’know.”
“What? No– The food’s fine.” He stuffs three pastas in his mouth one after the other. “Fucking delicious,” he mutters through ungracious chewing, cheeks puffed profusely, bringing a grin to your face.
“What’s wrong then? Bad day at work?”
He swallows his food. “Could say that,” he answers, resting his head against his propped arm. “Just some employee causing trouble.”
“Hopefully it’s not one of your sidekicks,” you pick at the raviolis while stuck in your musing, “I remember your first batch of recruits when you just started your own agency. You nearly scared half of them away by the end of the week.”
“How else was I supposed to whip those newbies into shape?” He lounges in his seat. “If they can’t take some yelling from a Pro, then they’re definitely not ready for the real hero world. Besides, they were the ones that came to my agency knowing that I’m the best,” he boasts with confidence, shoving more pasta in his mouth, and munching at his leisure.
“Also, it’s not a sidekick. Just some lady who can’t do her fuckin’ job.”
“Aw, cut her some slack, I’m sure she’s trying her best.”
Bakugou almost scoffs. If you knew the real reason for her lack of work ethic, you’d be on the same page as him.
Either way, he really needs to get this secretary off his back before shit blows out of proportion. If pictures, phone calls—hell—even lunch dates can’t get her to wake up, then what?
To his surprise, the idea actually comes to him quicker than he anticipated, red eyes perking up at a scheme forming in his head.
Of course. Heh, why didn’t I think of that sooner?
This is how he’s going to do it, he thinks. His lips barely resist the urge to quiver into a smirk that will no doubt have you questioning whatever was riling him up. Swallowing his final piece of pasta, Bakugou pushes his plate away but aims his fork in your direction.
“You free tomorrow?”
“I just have to drop off some papers at work in the morning. Why?”
“Good. Come by the agency for lunch.”
Your brows furrow at how sudden the request is, however, you go along with it. “Okay, should I make lunch for us?”
“Nah, don’t. I’ll order something,” he assures, but in his head he’s sure lunch would be the last thing on your mind tomorrow afternoon with what he has planned for you, him, and his secretary.
Bakugou scoots his seat back, leaning over on your side of the table. “Now, I remember a certain brat made a promise to me after dinner was done.”
“Hold it, I still have a piece–”
“Nuh-uh, c’mere–” He lightly pushes your hand away, and with effortless strength, pulls you out of your chair and over his shoulder. “Already waited too damn long.”
“Whoa..!” Your last piece of pasta falls back on the plate, forgotten. You watch as the distance between you and the dining table diminishes, the impatient blond leading you two into the hallway. At your fidgeting, he swats your thigh, warning you to stay fucking still unless you want to accidentally fall on your face.
With a squeal escaping your lips, you comply. As a reward, he presses his lips against the side of your ass as you’re still hanging over him, nipping at your curves. Your yelps are replaced by laughter. The ticklish sensation nearly makes you squirm again if not for Bakugou dropping you unceremoniously onto your bed.
“You better make it up to me for having to make me wait, Princess.” His emphasis on what is supposed to be your endearing little pet name comes out as a snarl as you’re cornered against the sheets. Expecting this kind of intense reaction from him after your meal, you grin slyly.
“I mean the ravioli was good, wasn’t it?”
Well that he can’t deny. Still, the blond smirks, showing his pearly canines. “Yeah, but,” he moves away from you, kneeling while grabbing at the hem of his shirt to pull it off,
“I’m still fuckin’ hungry.”
.
.
There is no doubt that the next day, you woke up incredibly sore. Sore yet also just as happy.
The tension in your muscles had dissipated as a result of being repeatedly fucked into your own mattress last night, allowing you to sleep soundly. So soundly that you don’t even notice your boyfriend leaving for work that morning. But it can’t be helped given how ungodly early his hero work starts every day.
Some hours after Bakugou has already left, your alarm goes off to remind you that it’s about time to begin your day. Even after a spent night, you can’t bear the thought of lying in bed anymore, especially with how cold the sheets had become, devoid of the blond’s natural warmth. Plus you had something to look forward to this afternoon—your lunch date.
Once you get washed and dressed, you grab your business files from your desk and dash out the door to drop off your papers at work.
Before you know it, it’s noon and you’re standing in front of the receptionist’s desk at Dynamight’s agency.
While you wait for the receptionist to finish their business call, you think back on the employee Bakugou mentioned yesterday. You note in the foreground how busy the entire place looks, which doesn't surprise you. The agency runs like a well-oiled machine. With all the hustle and bustle going on, it seems like everyone is doing their job with peak efficiency. Honestly, you can’t imagine anyone wanting to test the wrath of the explosive Number Two Hero, but you assume such people existed.
“Thank you for waiting! Here to see Mister Dynamight?” The receptionist greets you after hanging up their call, immediately recognizing you from your prior visits.
“Yeah, just coming by for lunch.”
“He’s in his office right now so I’ll let him know you’re here then.”
You mouth a thank you, followed by a farewell wave as you make your way to the elevator.
“’Suki’s office should be on… this floor…” you murmur, pressing the corresponding button on the panel. While you wait for the doors to close, you spot a figure approaching from a distance. You can see the person’s wrinkled professional attire, disheveled hair, and slightly smeared makeup as she approaches the elevator clumsily.
“H… Hold the door!” she pants.
Hearing her frantic request, your mind catches up with you. You jam your index finger on another button on the panel, keeping the doors open just long enough for the woman to slip inside and catch her breath.
You watch her ungraciously drop to the floor, lungs gasping for air. “That was a close one.” You bend down to extend a helping hand.
She sputters as she reaches out to you, “Yeah, thanks, I– Wait, you’re...” When she looks up, her eyes squint to get a better look at your face, brows knitting together as she recognizes your features. Dismissing your help, she abruptly retracts her hand before getting up on her own. You cock your head suspiciously when you notice her change in demeanor.
“Oh, I’m just stopping by to have lunch with my boyfriend. He’s your, uh,” you piece your words as eloquently as you can, “boss.”
It’s always difficult for you to tell any of Bakugou’s staff that you’re his girlfriend. You’d done it before in front of his group of sidekicks while waiting outside his office and as a result they all flipped, bombarding you with questions about your relationship before falling dead silent when his door suddenly swung open.
You’re expecting the same, if not, a similar reaction here, but you’re surprised to see a deadpan look in the woman’s eyes. She averts her gaze. You glance over at her, taking note of her fists shaking at her sides and how she bites the inside of her cheek which forms a pout on her lips.
You’re beginning to wonder if you shouldn’t have disclosed that information. “Are you okay?” you inquire, your voice filled with genuine concern. She eventually turns to look at you straight on, her expression teetering between a smile and a scowl. In any case, she tries to steer you away from the elephant in the room.
“Yep! Just peachy!” she assures through a strained grin that makes you all the more suspicious of her. Even if you want to question it, she has no intention of continuing the conversation. Her lips press together in an effort to maintain her smile, or else risk blurting something that should’ve stayed in her mouth. You keep to yourself in the elevator so as not to bother her, but the prolonged silence, combined with the elevator’s incessant dinging throughout each ascending floor, creates a suffocating atmosphere.
With every floor you pass you soon realize that despite keeping your distance, she’s still looking in your general direction. You notice her sneaking glances at you and your neck grows hot as you follow where her eyes wander. You press your palm against your jugular, the spot you recall Bakugou laying his teeth on last night.
I thought I covered that…
You want to chastise yourself for not spending enough time this  morning to conceal the blemishes on your neck. Your coworker had even commented on them before you left for Dynamight’s agency, to your embarrassment.
You settle for letting out an uneasy chuckle while adjusting the collar of your shirt. Though the majority of Bakugou’s staff are already aware of your relationship, you’d rather hide any detail of your sex life if possible. You’d prefer not being the hot talk amongst the whole faculty.
You expect to be the brunt of the woman’s teasing next, anticipating her wiggling her brows or whistling, but she keeps her mouth shut and her expression even appears offended.
Fortunately, the elevator saves both of you from any more uncomfortable silences. Right on cue, the doors slide open for the woman to exit on her floor. She doesn’t spare you a glance on her way out, but you overhear her mutter under her breath, “Enjoy your lunch or whatever.”
She stomps in the opposite direction until her figure disappears behind closing doors. Your face scrunches. “What’s her deal?”
You’ve gotten used to the bitter reactions some people would give over the fact you and Bakugou are in a relationship. You kind of have to, considering who Bakugou is and the hoards of fans he’s accumulated over the years as a Pro-Hero. But any of the backlash you receive is mostly posted online by petty netizens. No one has the guts to confront you in person. Mostly because if they do, Bakugou has no qualms about retaliating with equal venom and more. This lady, on the other hand, works for Bakugou. When it comes to greeting her boss’s girlfriend, she should be professional, right?
You brush those thoughts away, recalling that no one should ever have to suck up to you simply because you're a Pro’s significant other. “She’s probably on the PR team.” You laugh off, remembering how much trouble it is to manage Bakugou’s public image and how she must be tired from working overtime.
The elevator dings one last time to indicate that you’ve arrived at your destination. When the doors part, the entrance to Dynamight’s office is directly across from you, passing a short corridor. Normally, sidekicks and employees had to press the button on the side of the door, or page him ahead of time before entering. However, you have the luxury of just swinging those doors open whenever you like.
“Heya, Katsu–”
“For the last fuckin’ time, there’s no way I’m going on that mission as his fucking standby.” The voice booming at the other end of the room behind a wide, wooden desk drowns out your voice. “Tell Grand that if he can’t find another B-rate hero agency like his to do his damn dirty work, then he can just fuck himself,” he spits into the receiver. He slams the phone down and hangs up the call without a second thought.
You announce your presence once more with a low whistle. Another one for the PR team. “Vulgar as usual,” you joke.
He sighs loudly, “The only way to get the message across their thick skulls is to beat it into their heads at this point,” he says, leaning against the large glass windows behind him. “That Shindou needs to get off my back. I thought I told everyone I wasn’t taking anymore calls from that asswipe.”
“I’m sure Grand will finally get the idea after he receives your message from his manager.” Slipping in next to him, you wrap your arms around his neck. Your fingers delicately crawl up to his chin, tilting his head to face your smile. Bakugou reciprocates the gesture, his gloved hands gripping your waist and pulling you in as your lips briefly meet. When you part, you rest your forehead against his.
“How was patrol this morning, hero?” you whisper, playing with the tufts of hair above his neck.
“Same old shit,” he tells you quietly as you hum at his response, an amused grin tugging at the seam of your lips. Just as you’re about to separate, his hold at your sides tightens, locking your body against his.
“Bet you missed me, didn’t you, princess?” He leans in to nibble your jawline, causing laughter to tumble from your lips. “Bed got cold without me?”
Your answer is interrupted by a hand brushing up against the waistband of your pants, ruffling your tucked-in blouse. The man growls in the crook of your neck. “Didn’t have my cock to keep you nice and warm?”
Your nose scrunches at his unfiltered tongue. “Katsuki, I came here for lunch, remember?” You push at his chest, attempting to get him off you, but his teeth lock onto your clavicle.
“Food’s on the way,” he assures. Fingers play with the loops of your pants, dragging your shirt out slowly. “Might as well kill time–” His lips suddenly collide with yours, stealing your breath and drowning out any protests. He scuffs his teeth against your bottom lip, looking for a way in. You whimper in response at his persistence, stumbling backwards against the edge of his desk as he finally pries through your lips.
After an intense moment of kissing, his attention shifts to your jugular, nipping at the tender skin again. Every time his canines make contact with the broken skin, you wince. “Still got my marks all over ya,” he boasts, but the more skin he tries to unveil, the more he has to pull at your shirt’s collar which quickly annoys him. “Though I don’t understand what the hell you’re covering them up for.”
“D-Don’t want people to see…” you fumble with your excuses yet tilt your head to grant him better access. He scoffs at how your actions betray your words.
“Why does it matter when I want them to see? Let those fuckers look and know we’re together.” He licks one of the patches of broken skin. His harsh words make you shiver in his hold, but beneath his rough exterior, you sense a tender possessiveness in the amount of attention he pays to your body.
Your fingers brush through his hair, gently pulling him off of you so you can look him in the eyes, “You’re so damn insufferable, you know that?”
“Heh, you like it though,” Bakugou counters. You click your tongue, feigning ignorance. With his hand wrapped at the nape of your neck, he thumbs at your blemishes. His ruby eyes take their time to admire every inch of his claim on you. “You were clenching whenever I marked you. Screaming nice and loud too.”
“I bet the neighbors hate us now…” You sigh quietly.
“Took them that long?” He grins, almost proud of being a menace to those extras next door despite being a heroic figure. “Besides, not my fault you let me do whatever I wanted to you.” You pout, but accept it’s a fact you very well can’t deny.
As his deft hands unfasten each button of your blouse, he switches your positions. He yanks your shirt, dragging the fabric down your shoulders to reveal your skin and the bra hugging your chest. Licking his lips, he removes his thick gloves before hoisting you up to sit on the desk with him, making you straddle his thighs. Another pause of appreciation for the blossoms adorning your chest makes him blurt out, “Maybe I should let you mark me up just as much.”
You look at him precariously. He doesn’t take back the grin on his face. Seeing your wide-eyed expression, he cups your jaw, pulling you toward him. “What’s the look for? I know you’ve thought about it, princess.” Bakugou reads you like a book. He revels in your flustered face, telling him how right he is.
The image of his scarred, toned skin covered in hickeys has crossed your mind more times than you can count, but you’ve always been too engrossed in the intoxicating sensation of his teeth grazing every stretch of your skin to ever have an opportunity to bring the thought to light. Bakugou never gives you an inch when it comes to taking the reins in the bedroom. But now he’s practically granting you the opportunity on a silver platter.
You point a dubious look at him. “Are you serious, or did you bump your head somewhere earlier on patrol?” Anticipating your skeptical response, a chuckle rumbles low in his throat. He scoots back to remove his tank top, letting your hands lay over his chiseled physique. Your fingers immediately trace the scars and cuts lining his muscles, each one standing as a testament to every one of his battles. The idea of your own marks joining his adonis of a canvas has your eyes fluttering.
“’s no joke, babe,” he clarifies, a wicked grin plastered on his face. He then remembers why he made this whole arrangement in the first place. “Aren’t you tired of those fuckin’ extras always ogling me—looking at me up and down like they even have a damn chance to touch all of this?” He grabs your wrist and guides your hands above his chest, your fingertips brushing his collarbones.
You bite your lower lip. “Well…”
Hearing your voice linger, he snarls, “Are you seriously hesitating?”
It’s not like you hadn’t ever clenched your fists in front of the TV whenever your boyfriend was being interviewed by some mischievous news reporter or journalist. They never make it subtle when casting one too many glances at the Pro’s sweaty, skintight attire, staring into his red eyes for so long that they started looking dumb. Though as much as dark green jealousy occasionally takes root in your subconsciousness, you never act on your displeasure.
In the back of your mind, you always saw it as a sign of clinginess. But Bakugou sees it differently. To him, he’d want nothing more than his girl staking their claim on him. For you to get needy, jealous, possessive. Let the entire world know that you both belong to each other and no one else.
You fix your gaze at his cynical expression that eggs you on. Before you know it, you lunge forward. Your mouth latches onto his neck, arms curling around his shoulders. Bakugou draws you skin-to-skin, his low chuckle reverberating in the depths of his chest.
“Ooh, that’s it,” he encourages, rubbing your back. His other hand palms your ass, rocking you both back and forth, grinding his bulge against the crotch of your jeans. Your teeth cling to him, sinking into his skin. Your lips vibrate against his collarbones while you whimper at the delicious friction on your clit.
“Harder. I wanna see nice ol’ purple marks here,” he orders, relentlessly rolling his hips. You want to slap him on the wrist, your concentration waning as heat quickly pools in your abdomen. As if the grinding isn’t enough, Bakugou effortlessly undos the button of your jeans. He pulls down the zipper before reaching inside and touching you through your underwear.
“Fuck, already this wet from a little grinding? Nasty girl,” he hisses, running his index and middle finger across the ruined crotch of your panties. “Or maybe marking me is getting you all riled up?”
“Shut up–” you mutter half-heartedly. With a pop, your lips leave him. You lean back to evaluate your work. They’re not as noticeable as the marks Bakugou usually gives you, but they’re visible, and they’re purple as requested.
A small trail of violet hickeys adorns the crook of the blond’s neck and collarbones. Your finger traces the path, eyes capturing the sheen of your saliva over the marks. His skin gleams in the sunlight streaming in through the windows.
Reaching inside the pocket of his baggy pants, Bakugou pulls out his phone to turn on the front-facing camera. He gets a clear view of your work on the screen, and his smirk appears on the display. “My girl did that, huh?” He cranes his neck to examine the blemishes from different angles. Soon after, you hear his camera’s shutter release, capturing the image and adding it to his gallery. He should really consider making an album out of these.
Tossing his phone to the side, those piercing red eyes return to you, and your assertiveness fades. He grabs your wrists and leans in to kiss your temple.
“You did well, princess.”
His hushed voice makes your cunt clench and your ears warm. “I'll be sure to show these off later,” he promises, his tone dripping with smugness.
God, you realize how little his hero costume does to hide any of those hickeys. Given that he has to go on patrol again soon, you can expect his neck to be a hot topic in the media. Regardless, you can’t deny the satisfaction that wells up in your chest at the thought.
Katsuki was right. You really are possessive over him. And of course, it goes both ways.
While you’re distracted by your epiphany, he uses this opportunity to unhook your bra, happily discarding the garment. You exhale as he roughly cups the underside of your breast. His breath tickles your perky nipple, strong arm hooking you into him.
The pattern of his breaths are erratic, excitement coursing through his veins. His carmine eyes are lidded as he flattens a tongue against the hardened nub. As Bakugou fully wraps his lips around the stiffening bud, sucking and biting to his heart’s content, mewls part your mouth.
“Your tits still taste fucking amazing,” he mutters, mouth caught between sucking and spewing obscenities. “These tits gonna give me some milk too, princess?”
“Don’t push your luck, mister,” you quip before biting your bottom lip. You concentrate on moving your hips back and forth against his thigh, trying to find the right angle that provides you with the delicious jolt of pleasure you craved between your thighs. With a smack, his lips leave your nipple.
“Guess I didn’t give you enough attention down here since you keep rutting against me like a needy slut.” He swats your ass before gripping the plushness harshly. The mild sting has your pussy clenching. “My baby doesn’t feel satisfied unless she’s getting stretched open by my cock, huh?”
Just a little bit of dirty talk from him is enough to make you whimper pathetically, “Please, ‘suki…”
“Please, what? Gotta tell me more than that, princess.” He tugs the waistband of your pants, teasing you. Never breaking eye contact, Bakugou’s hand sneaks under the edge of his desk. “Use your words, I want to know what I’m doing to you. Don’t skimp on the details.”
A light click goes off, but if you hear it you don’t make it apparent, too focused on the hot blond in front of you that was making your head spin.
“Fuck… ‘Suki, I feel so hot… Need you right now…” You grab his hand showing him your ruined panties by letting the pads of his fingers trail your wet pussy. “See? Look what you did, I’m soaked.”
Bakugou mutters curses under his breath, applying more pressure to your panties to thoroughly inspect the slick saturating the fabric. He couldn’t have asked for a better reaction, finding your pleading to be incredibly sinful and all-too-tempting. He considers it a waste that he isn’t recording anything. Well, maybe it isn’t an entire waste.
“Damn, how are you this messy? This pussy’s fucking sobbing for me.” You nod, sloppily gyrating on top of his hand. For once, Bakugou is considerate to your needs and slides your panties to the side to slip his digits across your bare folds. You both moan in unison, you at the extra relief and him at the slippery honey dripping down his knuckles.
In his eyes he was being generous, granting you his thick fingers prodding your silky walls rather than reduce you to pitifully grinding against him. But, being greedy, you thought he wasn’t being generous enough.
Bakugou’s fingers leave your cunt to sample you, wet digits laying flat on his tongue. “Fuck, I need to lick you clean right now.”
“N-No, ‘suki, jus’ want your cock in me already,” you whine with a pout. However, Bakugou is insistent on stealing more than just a little taste from your sweet cunt.
“Not gonna even let me indulge a little? Must have spoiled you with too much dick last night.” He scoffs, but doesn’t move to discard his uniform to free his hard cock. Instead, he motions you to step down and stand in front of him while he remains perched atop his desk.
He eyes you up and down. “What are you waiting for, princess? I want it all off already.”
Your fingers start moving toward your disheveled blouse. As fabrics pile the floor, you catch the blond licking his lips, lewdly eyeing your panties that slip down your legs to reveal your juices coating your inner thighs.
“Turn around and kneel on top of my chair.”
At his blunt tone, you obey. Dynamight’s luxurious office chair cushions your knees as you carefully lift your body onto it.
“Bend over.”
Without question, you use the arms of the chair as leverage to safely lean forward, spreading your pussy in front of him. As half of your face presses into the cushion of the head rest, you steal a glimpse of his reaction from your peripheral vision.
With a guttural hiss between his teeth, he gets off the desk, pulling the chair closer for an even better look at your glistening center. He palms your ass, rolling the globes in his hands before spreading them, exposing your slick folds.
“You seriously trying to deny me this angel cunt?” His words are emphasized with a quick smack before his tongue dives between your folds. You whine at the contact, his lips fluttering around your clit as it works its way up your slobbering hole.
Knees shaking, you subconsciously muffle your sounds as you press your face into the headrest of the office chair. Not satisfied with your muted cries, Bakugou reaches one hand toward your head. He cups your jaw, turning you more to the side so you aren’t hiding in the cushion. When his tongue swivels around your sensitive bud, your moans resonate across his office with euphoria.
“‘suki! I’m gonna–!”
“Gonna cum? Do it then you slut.”
At your warning, he works his mouth vigorously against your pussy, even adding two fingers into your walls. Your toes curl behind you as your grip on the arms of the chair tighten.
“Fuck, you’re dripping all over my damn office chair.”
Maybe you would’ve issued a half-hearted apology, if not for his tongue and its unrelenting intensity across your sensitive bundle of nerves. You only offer a string of moans that Bakugou happily accepts, smiling into your pussy as he feels you tense up against him.
“Ka..tsuki!!” You practically scream, electricity coursing through your skin as your orgasm shakes your entire body.
“That’s it, princess. Want your taste all over my tongue… So fucking good,” he drones against your folds, not letting a drop go to waste as you slowly come down from your post-orgasmic bliss.
“Ah! ‘Suki, I’m already too sensitive…” You gasp, still feeling him drunkenly licking up and down your slit despite you just coming. Reaching behind you, you weave your fingers through his ash blond hair, nudging at his scalp to try to push him away, but Bakugou’s strength clearly outweighs yours. He grips your wrist, lifting his face off your sloppy pussy of his own volition.
“That sensitive just from my tongue? Oh, sweetheart, I plan on ruining you in my office chair alone.” Keeping his word, he replaces your pliant body with his own, planting himself right on the cushioned seat with his legs spread thoughtlessly. He dashes for the hem of his pants, unfastening the zipper, and pulling down enough articles of clothing for his cock to spring out, stiff and glistening with his arousal.
Lust blown eyes admire the thickness of Bakugou’s shaft, rightdown to the veins on the ridges of his cock. A smirk and chuckle follow in the wake of your heady gawking, swearing that you look like you were about to pounce and give him the best head of his life. Sadly, as he glances at the digital clock perched behind you, he realizes there’s no time.
“Sorry, babe, food’s gonna be here any minute and I need you on my cock right fucking now.” He rolls the office chair closer to get a firm grasp of your hips, motioning you on top of him with rousing urgency. Thighs on either side of his own, you reach over your body to level his cock over your dripping folds.
The blond’s lips curl into a sneer beneath you, hands fondling your breast and ass—the latter spreading your cheek to help you accommodate his size. “Besides, this what you wanted, right? To be–” As you begin sinking down his length, your mouth opens in a soundless mewl. “–split open on me, even after I fucked you into the mattress last night?”
Your teeth tug at your bottom lip while you do your best to bottom out. Katsuki isn’t amused by your muted reaction, pinching your nipple as punishment and spurring his desired noises from you. “What did I say? Answer me, slut, you wanted to get fucked dumb again, didn’tcha?” His words are harsher this time, demanding your attention.
“Yes, yes! Wan’ you to make me your little cockwhore, ‘Suki…” you confess, moaning when you feel his dick fully impale you. At the same time, Bakugou hisses at how your walls mercilessly hug his shaft.
“Yeah princess, I’m going to give you exactly what you need– Fuck! How are you so damn tight?!” It hasn’t even been ten hours since he had sex with you, stretching you into his shape last night until the sun shined, and yet you still had the innate ability to squeeze every ounce of pleasure out of him and then some. At this rate, he’s not going to last. “Need you to move, baby. Ride me already.”
Hearing the urgency in his tone, your hips begin moving on their own, dragging yourself on and off his cock. Hands on his shoulders, you leverage yourself to maintain a steady rhythm that had you both delirious and panting in pleasure. The blond’s thick fingers dig into your soft flesh, growls leaving his lips as fire flares in his veins, threatening to ignite his last ounce of willpower to allow you to keep this sustained tempo.
“F-Feeling good, ‘suki?” you question, looking down at him with a sinful expression painted on your gorgeous face—pretty eyes half-lidded and needy just for him.
“Yeah… God you make me act up all the damn time I–” His cock twitches between your tight folds, eyeing you from below and watching you clasp his hand that’s pawing your breast to gesture to him to play with you some more. The sensual yet genuine smile you give him ultimately breaks his resolve.
Oh, fuck it.
As if chains have snapped around him, Bakugou suddenly shoots up, carrying your body against him. He lays you across his desk quickly but carefully, with little regard for whatever else tumbles and falls off of it except for you.
You squeal in surprise, your arms and legs attempting to find purchase around him before you’re reduced to jelly by the new quickening pace of his cock pounding your insides.
“Oh my god… Katsuki!” The obscene slapping of skin on skin accompanies your desperate cries throughout his office. Arms that were wound around his neck lose their hold on him, pathetically dropping to your sides to clasp Katsuki’s wrists, where he’s pulling your thighs apart to spread you open for his unrelenting thrusts.
“Sorry, princess… you looked so damn hot I couldn’t hold back anymore. Needed to feel you deeper and make you cream already.” His tepid apologies don’t reach your ears as you’re overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of his movements, followed by a searing knot welling up in your abdomen.
By the looks of it, you have no objections to the turn of events, gazing dreamily at him as his hardened body hovers over you. From your point of view, you get glimpses of the sweat dotting his forehead, his nose scrunched in concentration, and narrowed ruby eyes glimmering with feral desire.
With stars in your eyes and features all flushed with warmth and lust, you sing a euphony of I love you’s between whimpers. Your voice catches in your throat when his cock repeatedly hits that sweet spot inside your gummy walls.
Bakugou can’t get enough of you, heart swelling with his affections that he can’t help but flick his wrist to intertwine his hand in yours. Despite his progressively carnal thrusts, he possesses contrasting tender devotions in his voice.
“I love you, princess. It’s been you and no one else. No other bitch can compare,” he repeats over and over like a mantra, a declaration of his loyalty to you and only you. You swear there’s an extra weight behind his words, but you’re too engrossed in the feeling of utter euphoria this man gives you in mind, body, and soul to give it a second thought. It’s as if you’re walking on Cloud 9 as your pussy clenches around him, back arching in the moment that’s pushing Bakugou to the breaking point
“So damn perfect, you were fucking made for me, baby. Give it to me, cum on my cock,” he pleads, “I know you’re almost there, princess.”
“Yea, ‘suki… Wanna cum for you, you make me feel so good,” you murmur brokenly, voice splintering into an incoherent babble that he finds so endearing, caressing your cheek while deepening his brutal pace. That knot in your tummy tightens and when the cord eventually snaps, you cry out, clutching onto his hand.
Katsuki insists he’s never seen a prettier sight than you finally losing yourself all because of him. It urges him to reach his own high and claim you in the only way he knows how—coming in your pretty cunt and dedicating himself wholly to you.
“Pretty angel, you’re making me crazy over here. Fuck! ‘Bout to blow my whole load inside you. That what you want?”
“Mhm! Please..!” You manage a few urgent pleas before Bakugou finally reaches his limit, groans resonating in the wake of his cock stuttering between your silky folds. His growls reverberate from the depths of his chest, thick with rapture as his body is bathed in the sweet sensation that is your entire being swallowing him whole. Ribbons of his cum paint your insides. You feel so full, both physically and spiritually, your heart bursting with love for the man that was spilling his adoration for you merely seconds ago.
Bodies spent and chests heaving, you lay on the desk with Katsuki on top of you. You don’t notice his hand sneaking under the desk, a click going off that goes equally overlooked, enveloped by your collective pants echoing in the stillness that is his hero office.
After a moment, the sensations catch up to you and the weight of his sweaty, heavy torso makes you squirm.
“Feel sticky…”
“There’s a shower and bath right there.” Bakugou grunts, but there’s playfulness behind his deceptively gruff mannerisms.
Your hands trail over his back at his response. “I know, but can you carry me?”
“Fine. Such a princess…”
“I’m your princess though.” You giggle, a teasing lilt in your carefree tone.
The blond can’t help the grin that finds his features. “Hell yeah you are.”
Bakugou pulls on his uniformed cargo pants to scrounge together some semblance of decency as he cradles you against him. Your body is like jelly in the Pro Hero’s strong arms, barely exercising the strength to hold onto him properly as he moves you to the unnecessarily luxurious bathroom built in his office. While setting you down on the counter next to the sink, the pager in his pocket rings.
“Food’s finally here.” He reaches for a hanger on the door, finding a bathrobe to blanket you in. “I’ll be back.”
You raise a brow. “Going out like that?”
“Relax, I’m putting a shirt on obviously.”
“A shirt, huh?” Not at all convinced, you cross your legs. You and him both know he absolutely reeks of sex. The marks you gave him are also an obvious giveaway. No doubt he’ll be an eye-turner to anyone he crosses paths with at the agency.
“Fine, I’ll have someone bring it up.” He meets you in the middle and you happily oblige, shoo-ing him to go about his business once again. The blond rolls his eyes, exiting the bathroom and out the large double doors of his office to wait at the elevator for his delivery.
And when those doors open with a ding, he’s greeted by the very last person he wishes to see. Swathed in the overbearing odor of her pungent perfume, his secretary stands heel-to-heel in the elevator, eyes crossed and a furious blush penetrating the matte layer of her foundation. Her steps traverse the threshold between the lift and hallway. With hands balled into small fists, she jabs the plastic bag of take-out food into the hero’s chest before wagging her finger at his disinterested demeanor.
“You..! You! How dare you?! Why, I should charge you for sexual harassment for what you did! So uncouth! Barbaric even!” She lectures vehemently, voice dripping with malice akin to the insults she practically spits at his face. The benevolent facade she dons everyday to garner his favor crumbles to pieces before his eyes and Bakugou can’t contain his laughter at the pathetic display.
“What’s so funny?!”
“Oh man, you’re a riot aren’t ya? You coulda very well just turn off your speaker if it bothered you so damn much,” he suggests, but the glint in his expression tells the woman he can see right through her. “But you didn’t, did you? You listened in on the whole thing like a fuckin’ pervert.”
At his deduction, the secretary blushes even harder. The fists at her sides shake with an anger that boils under her skin, melting her composure like the wicked witch of the west.
“Why you..! You’re the pervert here! Don’t think you can turn the situation on me when you’re the one who instigated this!” She points an accusing finger in his direction, an empty threat to the indifferent blond.
The hero barely offers her a scoff. “Me? The instigator? You got some fucking nerve saying that when all month you’ve been coming onto me practically on all fours despite knowing I’m a taken man.” Now it’s his turn to retort with equal venom and then some. His sudden switch in demeanor quickly overwhelms the woman as with every step he takes forward, she grows smaller and smaller.
“What’re you going to do? Tell the media? Report me to the authorities? Make a bunch of baseless rumors on your online blog? Well news flash—unlike you I’m irreplaceable. There won’t ever be another hero that has left as big of a mark on this country as I have, and you know it.” He holds his chest proudly after every word. In his presence, the secretary shrinks, gradually cowering back toward the elevator. Any semblance of nerve she held vanishes in front of her.
“Now start packing your things. If I don’t see your station left spotless by tomorrow morning I’ll make sure your days working for the hero industry are numbered.” It’s a threat she doesn’t dare challenge, wordlessly pressing a button on the panel to descend the floors and flee with her tail between her legs. The flabbergasted expression on her face is the last he sees of her.
And just like that, Katsuki feels a weight evaporate from his shoulders, releasing a deep sigh he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He bounds back to his office with your lunch in tow.
When he returns, he overhears the water running in the bathroom before it’s soon shut off.
“Ah, ‘Suki, you’re back! I just filled the tub with water for our bath.” Your sincere smile meets his eyes which soften at the mere glimpse of you kneeling next to the tub, patiently awaiting his arrival.
“Fuck, babe, you weren’t suppose to move. Should be too sore after what I did t’ya.” He hoists you off the floor and into welcoming arms.
You pout cutely. “C’mon now, I’m not helpless you know.”
“‘Course not. But you’re my princess, remember? All mine.” He settles you both into the depths of the soothing, warm tub, nestling your body against his chest as he presses kisses in every area of tender skin he laid his claim on.
“And I plan to treat you like one for the rest of our lives.”
.
.
The very next morning, he finds a letter of resignation on his desk—the very place the two of you had fucked.
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copyright 2022 shotoh, all rights reserved. i do not allow my creations to be published or translated elsewhere so please do not repost this or share my content on tiktok.
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simplybakugou · 4 months
Note
Could you do another drink bakugo?
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⋆ PAIRING: drunk/prohero!bakugou x fem!reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: swearing; alcohol; all characters are adults ⋆ WORD COUNT: 3003
A/N: taking a break from mystic academia cause this has been sitting in my inbox for so long and i wanted to save it until i got some inspiration for another drunk!bakugou and i finally found the inspo hehe. also when i first started writing drunk!bakugou oneshots, i was 17 LMAO and now as a 23 y/o that has actually been drunk i can write this a little more accurately lol. also i was struggling trying to end this cause i didn’t want it to be longer than it already is (imo) lol so im sorry for the awkward ending. ty for requesting and i hope you enjoy!
© simplybakugou — all rights reserved. DO NOT REPOST/REUPLOAD, TRANSLATE, OR EDIT ANY OF MY CONTENT ON HERE OR ANY PLATFORM
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It was a stupid idea. Why the hell would Bakugou go into a bar with the most loud and raucous people he knew even though he’d never drank a day in his life?
He couldn’t think of something he wanted to do less in that moment. He was exhausted, coming from a day of patrolling and hero work. Although his friends also came from their jobs, they actually drank alcohol and wanted to unwind after five years of constantly overworking themselves.
“Are you really not gonna get anything, Katsuki?” Sero questioned, giving the table’s drink orders to the bartender.
“I’m not fucking up my body just to look like an idiot like you dumbasses,” Bakugou huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair. 
“Why’d you come then?” Kaminari quipped, interested in hearing Bakugou’s answer.
“Cause your dumbass wouldn’t stop bothering me about coming out tonight!” Bakugou replied angrily.
“Oh yeah!” Kaminari exclaimed, laughing at himself. “I forgot.”
“It’s good to come out with us once in a while,” Kirishima said, nodding his head. “You’ve been working yourself to the bone since we graduated, man. We haven’t seen you in years.”
Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Don’t be fucking ridiculous. I’m not stopping until I’m number one. You shits can drink all you fucking want but I’m not gonna sit around every week just to catch up.”
Kaminari sighed, shaking his head. “This is why you’ve never had a girlfriend.” Sero nodded along with him.
“And what the fuck does that have to do with anything?” Bakugou snarled, slamming his fist against the table out of annoyance.
“You’re a workaholic, dude,” Sero stated matter-of-factly. “When are you gonna have the time to date? If you slowed down a little you could’ve at least gone out with Y/N back when you had a crush on her in U.A.”
“I did not have a crush on that shitty girl.” Bakugou felt himself getting even more angered just hearing your name uttered. 
“You keep telling yourself that,” Kirishima said, patting his friend on the shoulder only to get shook off by Bakugou. 
The drinks Sero ordered arrived and the rest of the guys cheered each other before downing their beverages. Bakugou sipped on his water he was forced to get after Sero berated him to order something.  
The more alcohol his friends consumed, the more rowdy and even more raucous they got and Bakugou questioned even more why he decided to go out with them. It was karaoke night at the bar and Bakugou swore his ears were bleeding as Kaminari consistently kept attempting to serenade him.
Despite how chaotic it was in the bar that night, Bakugou eventually found himself enjoying it. Kaminari and Sero got the most drunk, getting up to dance and stumbling over one another, which made Bakugou and Kirishima burst into laughter. He would never tell them, but he needed this time out and away from the constant need to work towards his one and only goal. 
The night was going great; until the door to the bar opened. Bakugou turned his head to the noise of the bell ringing above the door. It stuck out amongst the voices and loud nature of the room and he felt his face drop at the sight.
There you were, five years older than the last time he had seen you in person. And you weren’t alone as your arm was looped around the arm of another man.
Bakugou couldn’t help but stare at the sight. He drowned out the sounds of Kaminari, Sero, Kirishima, and a few strangers they had recruited at the bar playing drinking games as his focus was only on you. You scanned the area, waving shyly to a few people that recognized you as their favorite rising hero and sat in the corner of the room with your mystery man.
Kirishima glanced at Bakugou, recognizing that he was distracted by something else and looked towards what had caught his eye. He immediately understood the reason for the defeated look on his friend’s face.
“I’m sorry, man,” Kirishima stated simply. 
“Sorry?” Bakugou scoffed. “For what? There’s nothing to be sorry about. We were never together.” The last part Bakugou muttered to himself as he finally tore his eyes away from you and down to his glass of water.
And it was true; you and Bakugou were never together back when you attended U.A. with him and the others. Matter of fact, you didn’t even know Bakugou liked you back then as he made it his mission that you never found out. Not only did he refuse to let himself be subjected to such vulnerable feelings like love and infatuation, you and your peers were constantly bombarded with hero work and dealing with the League of Villains to ever have the time for confessions. At the time, romantic relationships were trivial. 
As things died down by the time class A graduated, Bakugou busied himself with his long-time goal of wanting to become the number one hero. He kept telling himself that it was time to grow up and forget about what he assumed to be a little crush but the more he kept shoving his feelings inside, the more intense they became.
That was why it felt like a punch to the gut to see you laughing with and leaning onto a man that wasn’t him. 
“Hey, dunce face,” Bakugou grunted. Kaminari lifted his head and looked over at Bakugou with hazy eyes. “Get me the strongest drink here.”
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“Dude, you really should slow down,” Kirishima urged, concerned as he watched Bakugou down shot after shot. “You’ve never drank before and this’ll probably mess you up fast.”
“I don’t give a fuck,” Bakugou said in a rush, out of breath from the abundance of liquids he furiously ingested. He held the next shot glass to his lips, preparing himself to throw it back along with the countless shots he had already done; he felt like he was going to be sick, to no one’s surprise. Bakugou slammed the shot glass down onto the table, still full of alcohol, and he slammed his head onto the table as well. His head was throbbing but he felt like he could float in the air if he really tried. 
Kirishima chuckled at his friend, taking advantage of the situation and taking the shot glass away from Bakugou. 
Kaminari swung his arm around Bakugou’s shoulders. “See, dude, now we’re having fun!” The last word was elongated as he let out a small hiccup.
“Get the fuck off of me, dunce face,” Bakugou mumbled with his head still on the table, causing his words to be muffled. Nevertheless, Kaminari knew exactly what his grouchy friend had said but ignored him.
For the first time that night, Kaminari looked around the room and noticed you sitting alone now in the corner of the bar. He shot up, waving his hand out at you. “Y/N!”
Bakugou’s eyes, which were once closed shut as the alcohol was rushing to his head all at once, shot wide open as he whipped his head up. He felt dizzy from how quick the motion was. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Come on, man, she’s sitting over there all alone,” Kaminari reasoned, turning his attention back to you. You also had finally noticed your old classmates, smiling at the sight. “Hang out with us, Y/N!”
“Alone?” Bakugou questioned softly. He looked over at you and felt a wave of relief wash over him as he carefully watched you make your way to their table, mystery man out of the picture.
“I didn’t know you guys were here tonight,” you said with a smile. You sounded level-headed and Bakugou determined that you were probably the most sober person in the room that night.
“Yeah, we come here a lot after our patrol shifts,” Sero commented.
“All of you?” You questioned, interested as you scanned each of the guys sitting at the table. Finally you locked eyes with Bakugou and he swore your gaze could’ve pierced right through him. He broke eye contact first as he felt his face burning up even more with the effects of the alcohol. 
“We usually have to beg Katsuki to come out. You know how he is,” Kirishima teased, wanting to lighten the mood for his friend. It didn’t work as Bakugou still had a sour expression on his face.
“Wanna get a few drinks with us?” Kaminari offered.
You shook your head. “No, it’s alright. Tonight hasn’t gone the way I wanted so I think I’m going to call it a night. It was nice seeing you guys.”
You waved goodbye to the boys, sending a small smile towards Bakugou as you understood he was in a bad mood but not understanding why. Your back was turned to them as you walked towards the exit and it was a miracle how you didn’t have two vermillion holes in your back the way Bakugou was staring at you leaving.
Bakugou stood up abruptly and he grabbed his coat and wallet. He sloppily pulled out a few bills and slammed them on the table as he made his way out as well.
“Where are you going?” Kirishima questioned.
“Don’t worry about it.”
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You cursed at yourself for leaving your jacket in your date’s car as the winter snow began to litter the streets. Your body was shivering terribly. The bar had a few tables and chairs in front of the building and you sat yourself down as you contemplated how on Earth you were going to get home. 
Before you could come up with a game plan, you felt a heavy leather jacket plop down onto your shoulders. You jumped at the sudden contact, watching as a clearly drunk-but-pretending-to-be-sober Bakugou sat himself in the chair across from you. “Bakugou! What’re you doing here?”
Bakugou ignored your question as he bluntly asked, “Where’s that fucker you came in with?”
You were taken aback by his questions. Only a few minutes ago did you realize that Bakugou, Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero were there in the bar with you that night. If he had seen you with your date, that meant Bakugou had seen you when you walked in. 
You sighed, leaning back in your chair and pulling Bakugou’s jacket closer to you as it kept you warm. “He was being… weird.”
“Weird how.” It was a question but you sensed the animosity in Bakugou’s tone as his expression harshened in a way that made his question a statement.
You waved your hands to calm him down. Why was he so upset? “Nothing bad, don’t worry. He’s just some guy I started dating. We weren’t official or anything but I liked him. He said he didn’t like me being a hero and said I should get a job that’d suit me in a feminine way.” You chuckled humorlessly as you recalled the misogynistic comment.
“What a fucking loser,” Bakugou grumbled, loud enough for you to hear and laugh at. He leaned back in his chair, resting his eyes. “You told him to fuck off, right?”
You nodded, amused as you always were back in U.A. with Bakugou’s colorful vocabulary. “Yup. He got pissed and left me here and I left my stuff in his car like an idiot.” 
Bakugou opened his eyes and reached into his front pocket, cursing at himself as his fingers kept missing the opening seam. He pulled out his car keys and tossed them onto the table. You furrowed your eyes at the sight in confusion.
“Take my car to get home.”
You widened your eyes at his insane proposition, looking at the insignia on his keys as an expensive brand. “Bakugou, your car’s worth like a hundred million yen! There’s no way I can drive that!” 
“Just do it, idiot,” Bakugou groaned, placing his forehead on the cold, snow-covered table. “Can’t let you just sit here in the cold.”
A moment passed as you were contemplating your choices only to realize in that time, Bakugou had fallen asleep. You chuckled softly, never expecting to see health-conscious Bakugou who’s always been adamant about never drinking inebriated. 
You grabbed his keys and put them in the pocket of his leather jacket, slipping the jacket onto your arms. You knew you couldn’t just take his car and leave him here like this so you got up and went over to his side, gently shaking his shoulders to wake him. “Come on, big guy. We’re going home”
Bakugou let out a groan as you got him to his feet, your arm around his shoulders and you wrapped his arm around your waist to support him, resting your hand on his hand. You felt his body stiffen in reaction and you looked up at him curiously. His face was red again and you assumed it was a combination of the alcohol and the frigidness in the air. It most definitely was not either of those things.
“Where’d you park your car?” You asked as you slowly helped him walk.
He nodded in the direction ahead of you and you assumed he was referring to the parking lot that was thankfully right next to the bar. The two of you continued walking towards the lot and you found it unusual how quiet Bakugou was.
Once reaching the lot, you were originally going to search for Bakugou’s car only to not have to put any effort at all since his bright red sports car stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the Subarus and Toyotas.
You laughed, shaking your head. “Why am I not surprised by this at all, Bakugou.”
Bakugou flinched and he slowly pulled away from you, shoving his hands in his pockets as he wobbly made his way to his car. “Stop calling me that.”
“What? You don’t want me to call you Bakugou?” You question, confused. “Oh! I get it. You want me to call you by your hero name, right, Dynamight?”
“That’s not it either, idiot.”
“Oh, then, Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight?”
“You’re so stupid.” Bakugou stopped right in front of his car and turned around, slowly so that he wouldn’t fall over. He had his signature frown on his face only this time it was out of frustration. “Back in U.A. you’d call me Katsuki.”
“Yeah, I guess I did,” you said, nodding your head as you recalled doing so. “But that was five years ago. I haven’t seen you since then and I just wanted to be polite.”
Bakugou kept quiet but his eyes never faltered or wavered as he kept them on you. You felt like he could burn right through you if he tried as you didn’t understand his frustrations. “Is everything okay, Ba– I mean, Katsuki.”
Bakugou’s eyes slightly widened for a moment and he felt like he was transported back to being a teenager. “No. Everything’s not okay ‘cause I still have this stupid crush on you that I’ve had since our first year in U.A.”
He let out a sigh, feeling a weight on his shoulders dissipate and he turned around back towards his car. You stood in place, shocked at the confession that you did not foresee at all. There was no way the Bakugou Katsuki had a crush on you, especially when you were just teenagers.
“Open the door.” Bakugou turned his head to you as he waited by the passenger door.
“Wait, wait, wait.” You waved your hands in front of you, still unable to wrap his words around your head. “This has to be a joke. There’s just no way– Why would you have a crush on me?”
Bakugou shrugged. “Dunno. Just happened.”
Your face felt hot and it wasn’t because of the weather. So much of your relationship with Bakugou made sense with this new realization. The reason for his cold shouldering you on numerous occasions or annoyed stares he’d give you when you got in a relationship in your second year all started to make sense. It was his way of conveying his feelings for you. 
You shook your head, shaking the complex thoughts from your mind and snapping yourself back to reality as the cold air and Bakugou not having a jacket, since you were obviously wearing it, made you unlock his car with the key he gave you. You watched as Bakugou entered his car on the passenger side.
You knew you needed to give yourself a minute before you could enter the car beside him. How did you feel about him? You always thought he was handsome, when he wasn’t scowling at least, and you enjoyed seeing him mature every year in U.A. Even after graduation, you always watched the news fondly as you watched him evolve into an incredible hero, one that you knew was worthy of becoming number one. 
So Bakugou Katsuki liked you. If your poor previous relationships taught you anything, it was to not turn down a good man when he was right in front of you. Or at least sitting in his sports car waiting for you to drive the two of you home since he was unexpectedly inebriated to do so himself. 
Taking in a breath, you knew what you had to do; you wanted to see where this would go between the two of you. You opened the driver’s side door, sitting in your seat and collecting your thoughts briefly before turning to Bakugou to tell him exactly what was on your mind. You wanted to give it a shot.
And you were intent on doing just that until you turned to look at Bakugou only to see he was once again fast asleep, his chest rising and falling. You chuckled at the sight, taking in how adorable he was in that moment. Slipping his jacket off your body, you draped it over his body.
“Guess you’ll have to stay with me tonight.”
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284 notes · View notes
http-tokki · 1 year
Text
It's just head?
~ best friend! bakugou katsuki x reader ~ tags/cw: aged up bakugou, best friends, mature themes, explicit language, sti, unprotected sex ~ wc: 460
So you and katsuki are besties, have been for years, and you’ve both seen the best and worst of each other. You guys were going on 15 years of friendship, so he had seen you through meltdowns, break ups, first times, held your hair back as you cried and threw up, guided you home after a few too many drinks, everything, and the same went for him every single embarrassing moment and then some, you had been either by his side of cheering him on. All through UA and the years after, where he was given a bit of a bad rep for being short and explosive, you defended his name and made the world see the other side of King Explosion Murder. So when you mentioned going on a date with a guy you met online, it was nothing new to the blonde. He sat with you before the date, helping you choose outfits and shoes to match before rolling over to tend to his game (he had only recently gotten into videos games, a luxury he had discovered way too late in his life and after you had gifted him a switch for his birthday and he hasn’t been able to put it down) anyway, so the date went alright. You were dropped off a bit after midnight, stumbling through the apartment door with messy hair and lipstick hastily wiped across the back of your hand. Katsuki was up, running across his island in Animal Crossing as you entered.
“good date?” he asks, not looking away from the screen.
“ahh…” you start, focus now on unbuckling the boots you had chosen. “not bad, but nothing to write about,” shoes off and being kicked in the general direction of the rack. You’ll clean it later.
Katsuki looks up from the screen, eyes narrowing as he notices the messy hair. You had attempted to fix yourself, but the too-neat bun and smudged makeup were a dead giveaway. Bakugo tsks, clicking the screen off to give you his full attention.
“Really? After the first date?”
You shrug, walking towards the kitchen to get water. “Ehh, he was cute. Plus, it was just head. What’s the harm in it?”
There was, in fact, a LOT of harm in that. Two months later, while sitting at brunch with Bakugou, you receive the message from your hook-up to a link to a Google search page and the line I tested positive, so you might be too.
Katsuki gasps dramatically and rips his drink from your hands. Orange juice sills down your shirt as the straw is pulled away.
“Dude, what the” you sputter as your phone is also taken from you.
"It's just head, what's the harm?" Bakugou mocks you. "and now you've shared my drink so I'm infected"
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a/n: don't be dumb like me and not use protection even for oral. I caught strep. i wanted to die.
148 notes · View notes
leminuzuka · 2 years
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Okay so. I have taken like, no liking to boruto. But no one writes for mitsuki 😕😕
13 notes · View notes
craftycheetah · 3 years
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Missing
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Warnings: mentions of infidelity, torture, kidnapping, death, mental manipulation, and language
Word Count: 2.3k
Genre: angst, very little hurt/comfort
Pairing: Prohero! Bakugou x reader (can be read as any gender)
Authors Notes: This took me a LONG TIME. I am so sorry for not posting over the last three months. College is very stressful and time-consuming. I am so sorry! Please reblog and maybe leave an ask if you like my stuff! Maybe a follow and interact? Pls, don't be a ghost reader. Tagging @milkmademozzarella and @xxmiizcornerxx for helping me and blessing me with their BIG BRAIN ideas.
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Ringing. A sharp ringing in your ears as your head twinges. Trying to move around, a clinking sound comes from your wrist once your brain registers the cool metal of the quirk-canceling cuffs chaining you to the brick wall behind you. The newfound inability to move your legs once you see they are also chained together. ‘What the hell? Where am I?’
A flickering overhead light illuminated your surroundings. ‘Last thing I remember was going to the c—’
Footsteps approached the dingy cell you were in. Glaring up at your captor, your face dropped once you recognized them. An auburn-haired man with cold, piercing green eyes glared down at you with a sinister smile, making the chill in your cell much more evident. He was the guy who was seen cursing Katsuki during one of his interviews, threatening him.
“This isn't real.”
You watched the shadowy figure become closer and closer to where you’ve woken up, almost completely paralyzed on that ratty old mattress, barely able to make a sound, to whisper to yourself, a futile attempt to try and calm your racing heart.
“Just...j-just a nightmare. Come on, Y/N...wake up, this...isn't...real!”
“Oh, Y/N…” The figure leans over them, just like a nightmare would and yet somehow not at all. “You think this is a dream?”
They hold up a syringe that's already been emptied, and your blood runs cold. Now you can feel that the side of your neck is sore, and now...now you can't speak at all, every muscle locked.
“I can assure you,” The villain chuckles, smirking so wide it shows their teeth. “This is very real.”
Cheap fluorescent lighting filled the cell of the once-famous villain Tomura Shigaraki, aka Tenko Shimura. A shaggy mop of cyan looked up at the door, a grimace forming his dry lips.
“Well, well, well,” Shigaraki giggled. “If it isn’t the number 3 hero. What brings you here, Dynamight? Or should I say… Bakugou?”
Bakugou crossed his arms over his chest and let out a ‘tsk.’ His eye twitched in irritation at the villain saying his name. His hand curled tightly into fists, nails digging into his skin. “I’m gonna make this short and sweet shit head, where’s Y/N?”
Shigaraki barked out a laugh, “You mean that trophy bitch you keep on the back burner? Wouldn’t they be at home cooking you a meal or whatever it is they do?” A devilish smirk appeared on his face, quickly transforming into a thoughtful look. “Not much publicity on that one; I wonder what they’re like….”
“Cut the shit crusty eyes! I know you have them! Give them up, and I won’t blast your ass to hell!” his voice echoes throughout the walls.
Shigaraki’s shoulders bounced humorlessly as he threw back his head and laughed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. If you’re saying your partner has been kidnapped, then I don’t know what to tell you,” he shrugged, taking a deep pause.
Bakugo tapped his foot impatiently. “Hey, remember when we kidnapped you?”
BLAM!
The table flew into the air, landing on the other side of the room with a large thump as Bakugou lunged at a chained Shigaraki. Shigaraki smirked before putting on a show of calling for the guards; no one came as his desperate cries filled the visiting hall. Just the perks of being the number three hero. All the air was knocked out of Shigaraki as he was slammed against the wall, heat bubbling on his skin as Bakugo’s quirk was half activated. “Did I hit a nerve? Or are you that much of a bit-“ His words were cut off with a desperate gasp of air as Bakugo’s grip went from his chest to his throat, successfully blocking off Shigaraki’s airway. “I am not. Playing. Games.” Bakugo growled through clenched teeth, banging Shigaraki’s head against the wall as he did so.
Miles away, the cold chill of the cell started to seep into Y/N’s bones, being kidnapped during a humid July evening only to be thrown in a freezer-like cell. ‘I swear I’m gonna drain every atom of oxygen out of this bastard the second I get out of here!’ Y/N struggled in her chains, stiffening at the footsteps approaching her cell.
“You hold your head up rather high for someone with a collar around your throat. You know he’s never coming for you, right?”
“Bullshit, he loves me. He’s coming—”
A loud explosion filled your ears as the wall behind him crumbled, revealing light and a silhouette of her savior. “Suki!” you cry out before struggling in your chains even more, “Get me out of here!”
A cloud of smoke covers your vision as you hear grunts and explosions. “Bakugou?” you whimper before relaxing as he comes into your view. “Oh, thank God, you’re okay! W-What happened? Where is he?”
“He’s gone,” Bakugou huffs. “Are you alright?”
You nod as Katsuki unshackles you before leading you out of the warehouse. You make your way home, and it feels like months have passed after you got kidnapped. Katsuki’s seemed different after he brought you back home. Constantly snapping at you, acting secretive, leaving the room whenever his phone rang, and coming home later than usual.
Katsuki calls you over to the couch one day, asking to talk, and he doesn’t seem like his soft yet arrogant self, considering he’s weirdly avoiding eye contact. “Sit down, Y/N. We need to talk,” he sighs.
Looking at him with slight worry, you move over to him, reaching to cup his face and pulling your hand back when he turns his head. “Hmm? What's wrong, Suki?” you smile, trying to make him feel better.
“This is gonna be hard to hear, so I suggest you sit down.”
You sit down on the couch next to him, ready to listen to what he has to say before those five words cause your world to come crumbling down.
“I’ve… I’ve been having an affair.”
You stare at him in shock, mouth agape, as your mind struggles to comprehend what he just told you. “You...you’re lying! If this is a joke, Katsuki Bakugou, this isn’t fucking funny!” you yell, getting up from the couch, glaring at him.
“I’m not, Y/N. I’m so sorry….”
“Bullshit! Sorry would’ve kept your ass loyal, Katsuki! Who is she, Katsuki? How long has this been going on?!”
“It doesn’t matter who it is, Y/N. What matters is what’s happening now. And right now, I want a divorce. More specifically, I want you to file for divorce.”
“What? Wait, why me?” you stammer before your eyes harden with anger understanding his reasons. “Oh, so you can keep up your perfect hero appearance?”
Katsuki sighs to himself, running a hand through his jagged-edged hair. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I need to look good for the public Y/N. It’ll look messy if I file for divorce from my so-called ‘perfect’ partner.”
“It is messy! You're the one who caused this shit! Who is she? What's so great about her?!”
“She doesn’t flinch whenever I touch her. She’s smart, pretty, and she loves me Y/N! What does it matter to you?! What? Are you gonna hunt her down and mess her up?” Katauki huffs and glares at you. “Just… for once in your life, just listen. I don’t love you anymore. I want you to file for divorce. Now.”
“You know what? Fine, go be happy with your whore Katsuki! Just get out!” you sob as Katsuki rolls his eyes, dropping his keys in the bowl along with his wedding ring before leaving. Just as you feel the tears fall down your face as Katsuki leaves your once happy home, admitting he cheated on you and he was going to leave you for her, you hear him.
“Well, well, well. You put on such an entertaining performance, my dear. What was it like? Judging by your tears, I can tell it must’ve been heartbreaking. Would you like to go again? We’ll have so much fun together, I promise~.”
You stare at him in terror as you think back to those “visions” you had of Katsuki. ‘It never happened? B-But it seemed so realistic...h-he was cheating. We were gonna get a divorce. He cheated on me! That couldn’t have been him. He would never!’
“I swear to God if Bakugou doesn’t kill you when he finds me, I will!” you snap, struggling in your chains as you tremble softly, tears falling onto the concrete floor.
“Shh, pretty one. There’s no need to say such vulgar words at me. I’m keeping you safe from that inconsiderate, irresponsible bastard of a man you decided to marry. Well, until he finds us, you wanna go again?”
Time moves differently when you’re mentally tortured like this. It’s like months and years go by, yet you’ve only been under for a matter of minutes. Somehow this is worse than what villains claim torture in Tartarus is like. It’s not just physical pain; it’s emotional, neurological. Like repeatedly being waterboarded and told you’re not good enough while you're under. You have no idea how long you’ve been trapped here with this maniac.
‘Maybe he’s right. Bakugou still hasn’t found me yet...probably off with some bitch glad that I’m not a nuisance in his life anymore…’ you think to yourself, slowly starting to give up.
While you were constantly going in and out, scene moving onto the next, your captor sat and watched your cloudy eyes. Your emotionless face and limp body accompany him in this physical world. What could've possibly led him down this path of torturing an innocent person such as yourself? He wasn't so sure himself as he rested his head into his palm, watching your anguished mind come up with some of the sweetest yet cruelest scenarios. Watching your spirit break worse than the last.
At some point, he stopped the show. Thus far into the show you were provided, you were weeping for your now-deceased husband. Holding onto his battered body while destruction surrounded you both and the cries of the innocent were bellowing out. He had just defeated the enemy, but the cost to do so was gruesome. You yelled in emotional agony, only to be stopped hearing the slow amused clapping by him. “Why are you doing this? What have I done to be tormented again and again and ag-”
“Oh, stop your complaining.” He cut you off as he looked down at you with eyes dulled with boredom, but his amused, wicked grin remained.
“You're innocent. In fact, I have no quarrels with you or your husband. Even though he is the very reason you're here, to begin with, my dear.” He taunted, sitting upon his throne of rubble twirling the syringe in his hand. And your eyes widened as you realized he had no remorse, no empathy. He was a complete sociopath. Bastard.
At first, he believed himself to be doing this as revenge for his lost family. Oh, his sweet family, the only ones who truly loved and accepted him for who he truly was, even if he couldn't provide the same for them. But with them gone, he no longer had to worry for them. He didn't have to cause them suffering simply because he wasn't normal as this society wanted him to be. Yes, them being gone was the best thing that could've happened, and for that, he thanked the hero that utterly destroyed his dull life and gave birth to a supposed color-filled adventure. “In fact, I should thank him. He's given my life a new purpose. I no longer have to be concerned with anyone, and I can spread my show for many others to come!~” He spread his arms wide, standing up before he stopped. “Oh? Our main character has finally arrived to rescue his damsel in distress. Quiet, my dear, the show is about to begin.” He announced, turning around, seemingly looking at nothing, leaving you confused and nervous. What if this was another trick? Another twisted scenario he’s come up with?
The sounds of rushed footsteps fill the desolate warehouse as the lights dim before showing only on him, leaving you in the dark. Sounds of laughter, explosions, the almost silent hiss of smoke bombs, and curses flood your senses as you try to make out what’s happening around you. Once the smoke cleared, your captor was gone, and all that was left was silence. Before you can muster a single thought, you heard your husband’s voice ringing through, “Y/N! The fuck are you??!” He shouted aggressively, but you could detect the concern in his voice. Mustering all the strength, you had all you could do was strain out a broken, soft, “I’m here. Help. Please help me.” Thankfully that was enough for Bakugou as he immediately charged into the direction of where you were. When he found you, you appeared physically unharmed for the most part, but he was more concerned with your shaken form. He removed the chains from your ankles and the cuffs from your wrists, whispering soft gruntled apologies and words of comfort as you sobbed into his shoulder, clenching onto his hero costume.
Carrying you out of the warehouse, he takes you to an EMT as the police rush inside the warehouse. “Suki? I-Is it really you?” you whimper, clinging onto him. “Don’t go, please, not again….” Katsuki looks down at you, confusion and anger written across his face, but his eyes show immense concern. “Shh, ‘m here, I’m here,” he whispers, rubbing your back. “Nobody’s gonna hurt you ever again, I promise. Look at me, firecracker, I’ve gotcha now.”
As Katsuki lays you on the stretcher, he holds your hand as he climbs inside with you, caressing your forehead as you’re driven away to the hospital.
Reblog and follow if you like my work pls! Asks are always open!
© craftycheetah: all rights reserved. Do not edit, modify, repost, or claim my works as your own.
179 notes · View notes
tteokdoroki · 4 years
Note
hi lovely! i hope you’re doing well<3 i was wondering if i could request (hcs or drabbles? you can choose) for keigo and bakugou going to a hero gala with their s/o? this can be gn for everyone hehe but i’d like to see how they’d react seeing their s/o in formal wear and how’d they go about acting at the gala. (if you throw in a lil nsfw in there i’ll love you forever hehe) thank you!
 — seeing their s/o in formal wear for the first time !
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⇝ pairing(s): keigo takami, katsuki. bakugou x gn!reader
⇝ rating: mature, 18+.
⇝ genre: smut, fluff.
⇝ warning(s): please read !  unprotected sex ( please wear protection ), public sex, oral sex ( reader receiving ), handjobs, marking.
⇝ author’s note(s): ello ello, i’m back with some requests once again, i decided to switch this one up a little bit and include a slight scenario for each character, please let me know if you liked it, nsfw below the cut <3
⇝ masterlist | requests
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you probs haven’t been dating very long when keigo asks you on a date to the upcoming hero gala
you’re also a civilian so he’s worried it might not be your scene !!
he’s over the moon when you say yes and is pressing a bunch of kissies to your face.
gives you his bad boy black credit card and tells you to buy whatever you fancy; it just has to be formal wear !!
i see you not being very comfy with idea of using his card to buy yourself something expensive since you’re only just dating
but he waves his hand and says “only the best for my baby bird.”
probably sends his assistant to make sure you’re not worried about the price tag.
on the night when he sees you his draw DROPS
because damn, you look so good in that cute little outfit you got.
it compliments you so well and you look absolutely ravishing.
cant stop looking at you the whole night.
will probably be handsy the whole time, slipping under fabric of your expensive new clothes.
keigo steals you away from a chat with endeavour to slow dance with you during the gala.
“damn baby bird, if i’d have known you were gonna look this good in formal wear, we’d never have left the apartment.”
you whimper into his ear and keigo knows he’s done for.
don’t even make it home, he just pulls you into the closest bathroom and forces you over the sinks.
“k-keigo, anyone could walk in and see—“
“see? oh baby, i bet you want them to see how much of a mess i’m going to make you.”
barley holds back as he gives you his cock, it’s so loud that literally e v e r y o n e can hear you from outside.
when you stumble out both of you a visibly messy from your activities.
you take your leave and barley make it to the car before keigo’s hands are on you again.
⇝ scenario:
if anyone were to walk into the bathroom right now, you’d surely be fucked. million dollar outfit a mess on the floor, hair strewn about and number two pro hero between your legs.
keigo groans as your free hand curls in the sea of his messy blonde hair, forcefully tugging his head up to yours before you press a sloppy kiss to his glistening lips. you whimper at the taste of yourself on his tongue. “k-keigo,” you whimper, legs begging to shudder as his free hand roams your nether regions, stimulating you until you’re seeing new colours behind closes eyelids and your body is trembling against the bathroom counter. “p-please—“
“please what angel? don’t hear you using your words.”
you curl in on yourself, feeling the knot in your tummy tighten as if it’s about to unravel— your eyes snap open to meet a pair of dilated golden ones, making you moan so loud that you clamp down on your bottom lip to keep the sounds in. “gonna cum, don’t wanna be to—to loud, people could hear...”
your boyfriend chuckles darkly from above you, mouth falling open to mock your moans while the slick sounds of your sex flicker between you. “ohoho baby bird, don’t worry about that and let them know how good i’m making you feel.”
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you’ve been dating for a year or two at this point but bakugous really private so he’s never taken you to the gala.
when the next one rolls around you decide to ask him why he’s never asked you to go
katsuki just shrugs and says he “didn’t think you’d like all the lights and shitty cameras.”
nonetheless he invites you this time and you happily agree but pout upon realising you don’t have anything appropriate to wear.
you’re both pretty new to the pro hero thing but i think katsuki would be higher ranked and thus earn more bc he’s on track to be number one.
so you’re sitting there like >:(
and bakugou flicks your forehead and rolls his eyes.
“don’t pout dumbass, just use my card and get yourself something nice.”
you don’t hesitate, bouncing to the nearest mall the next day to get yourself something off the charts.
you end up running a little late to the gala so arrive separately from bakugou but when he sees you ...
gosh !!,£/&/
a tiny explosion sets off in his palm from how gorgeous you are
his hands are probably sweaty for the rest of the night.
he keeps checking you out from across the room, staring at you while he sips on champagne...
you only catch him because he keeps letting off tiny explosions by accident !!
you’re probably the one to initiate any teasing that night, slipping your hand down his breaches at the dinner table.
he doesn’t flinch but sends you a warning glare.
probably let’s out a strangled moan when you start palming him for real.
“fuck, yn...”
“what was that kacchan?”
“mind your fuckin’...fuckin’ business, damn nerd. we’re going home.”
yanks you from the table and heads straight for the car.
you both don’t say anything in the car home but as soon as you’re past the front door bakugou is ravaging you like his last meal
teeth, tongue, love bites !! you name it !!
“you think you can get away with teasing me like that? well you’re in for a long fuckin’ night sweetheart.”
oop , you can’t walk for days after that.
⇝ scenario:
“how do you like me now, sweetheart? not so confident— ah fuck, are you?”
bakugou mocks you, forcing you up the wall with every thrust inside of your tight heat. you’d barely made it into the house before your boyfriend pounced, lips on your neck on your lips and your sex. the guy was relentless; tearing right through your formal wear with no regrets, what was left of your outfit remained bunched at your hips— katsuki using the fabric to pull you back onto his hard cock.
tears threaten to spill from the corners of your eyes, nails scratching their way down the walls as your boyfriend lands a harsh spank to your ass— the pain sending shivers down your spine. “not gonna answer me brat?” he spits; finger tips singing little marks into the skin of your hips. “where’s all that mouth you had earlier? when your hands were down my fuckin’ pants in front of all those people.”
“k-katsuki!”
the blonde pulls you back by your hair, blood red eyes staring right into yours as the pace of his hips speed up; forcing his red hot length further into your walls. “that’s what i thought. now sit there and take my cock. that’ll teach you to misbehave again.”
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some more helpful links about recent events:
educate yourself carrd
issues going on in the world carrd
blm carrd
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kiribaku-queen · 3 years
Text
The Blood King and his Queen [11]
Pairing: Bakugou x reader
Romance, Angst, Drama
Word count: 2.6K
Summary:  From being a mere servant girl to marrying the scariest prince in existence, your world changed right before your eyes. Exchanging places with the princess, you knew, wasn’t going to be easy. But could you have found love on the way? Or was it never meant to be?
A/N: Hello my loves! If you'd like to be tagged, please let me know! And as always, I'd love to know your what you think since we did switch genres this chapter!
For everyone who congratulated me on my milestone and those who have sent in requests, A BIG THANK YOU! I will be working on those asap and let me tell you, I am sosososo excited to do them because you sent in some ANGSTY requests which i love love love! My heart broke reading some of them so I can't wait! Thank you so much again my love and happy reading! <3 Please don't hate me!
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[previous]                                                                                               [next]
Today was the big day. The day of the engagement party. The day you were going to be shown off as the Blood Prince’s bride-to-be and future queen of the Kingdom. You felt excited yet sick to your stomach at the same time. You’ve never attended these types of events as a servant before so you had no idea what to expect or how to even act. You couldn’t even imagine how the day was going to go.
You woke up, of course, an empty bed. Images of last nights events replayed in your mind, making your cheeks heat up. But you smiled. It was one of the happiest and most memorable times of your life. Could life get any better at this point?
You were quick to jump out of bed, in a rush to find Bakugou. Your feet were light and your chest was filled with love that you felt like you couldn’t spend another minute without him. Unfortunately for you, you didn’t realize that you were still in your rather revealing nightgown that exposed more skin than necessary. In the moment, that didn’t matter to you. The silky, white gown flowed behind you as you rushed to find the man of your dreams.
Bakugou was conversing with some of the boys, Kirishima, Sero and Kaminari. By now, he hadn’t seen you yet which was perfect because now you could surprise him.
“Katsuki!” you shouted his name. The moment he turned around, you were jumping right into his arms. Your arms were tightly secured around his neck and your nose buried in the crook of his neck, giving you all of his scent. The boys had to turn away, faces red, out of respect for your privacy, as well as they didn’t want to die in the hands of a jealous Blood Prince. The boys immediately looked up, pretending that something had caught their eye so it wasn’t as obvious. Oh, but was it so obvious.
Bakugou was startled to see you in his arms so early. But quickly became protective when he saw what you were wearing. Nothing but sheer fabric? Revealing places that only Bakugou has seen? Not on his watch. Bakugou was quick to cover you up with his fur cape but also took to aside so no one was watching.
He takes you to a secluded hallway, or what seemed like one since he shooed everyone away. He places his hands on his hips and lets out a frustrated sigh.
“Why are you still in your nightgown?” he asks, annoyed. You give him a giddy smile while taking slow steps towards him. You place your fingers on his abdomen, slowly walking them up to tap his chest.
“I couldn’t wait to see you, my love,” you flirted in your best flirtatious voice possible. Bakugou couldn’t help himself. He pulled you in so your lips could meet. His kiss was so addicting, you wanted more of him. But like many good things, it was taken too fast for your liking. Bakugou had pulled away to rest your foreheads together, him breathless.
“You’re really tempting me,” he said in a raspy voice. “Should I take you right here, right now? For everyone to hear?” it was meant to be a threat but you giggled and one upped him.
“I’m all yours, your highness,” you say softly, getting closer to him all innocent like.
Bakugou didn’t really mean what he said. Did he want you right now? Absolutely. But it was all tease for fun and games. He wanted to rile you up as much as he can today so that later that night, that’s when they can have a lot of fun. Bakugou backs up and laughs at your pouting face. God, how he loved all your faces, all your expressions. You were so lively and expressive and beautiful. He couldn’t get enough of you.
“Later,” he promised. “You should be getting ready for the ball.”
“As should you, but I don’t see you all fancied up,” you argue. He nods his head and shoos you away by placing a hand on the dimples of your back.
“Yes, yes, I’m about to do that now. I’ll come find you when you’re ready?” you nod in excitement, not being able to wait for that moment. He gives you an affectionate look, teasing you with an eskimo kiss before leaving back to his men. You absolutely melted at his touch. Sigh, you were so in love, it was painful to watch.
The ball was only a couple hours away and you had just gotten finished dressing. Your servants had prepared a lovely ballgown for you that was breathtaking to look at. The color red was supposed to signify the power you were being married into. As well as to match with the Prince’s outfit but we will keep that on the downlow. The dress was embroidered with thousands of handstitched flowers in the waist to bust area, around the sleaves and a little bit more throughout the ends of the dress. Not only that, but you were bedazzled in large jewels: dangling earrings and a bold necklace to match with the red tiara sitting on your head. It was a glamorous and expensive look they were having you go for. Only appropriate for a princess, soon to be queen.
Your heart was going pitter patter when you saw yourself. You couldn’t believe it. This was really happening. You were going to be getting engaged to your love. There was a knock at the door and in comes Bakugou, looking all dashing and handsome.
You gasped at the way he looked. The normal Bakugou you would see would be wearing his usual: cape with no shirt underneath, a pair of washed out pants and his boots. But this Bakugou? It was like you were seeing a completely different person. He wore a suit like a Prince, red and gold to the fit. He even had a side pocket that contained a handkerchief. His hair was lazily slid back but it didn’t matter because he was still handsome in your eyes.
“I’m surprised. You’re actually wearing clothes for once,” you comment.
“Get a good look princess, because this is the only time you’ll get to see me like this,” he says. He comes to you, placing a chaste kiss upon your lips. He side eyes the girls in your room. That gave them the cue to leave. They bowed, quickly leaving the room to give you some alone time for now.
As soon as that door closes, Bakugou attacks your lips with harsh and hungry kisses. You hum into the kiss as your teeth clash against each other but he makes up for it by slipping his tongue in.
“Stop, not now,” you protest, trying to push him off but with lazy pushes of his shoulders.
“You’re just so pretty,” he responds, not stopping his actions. You start to giggle when he attacks your neck. He’s about to take off your chunky necklace but you whine.
“Katsuki!” you whine playfully.
“Yes, my love,” he says and your heart skips a beat hearing those words. You cup his face in your hands and kiss him one more time.
“Darling, you promised after the dance,” you reminded him.
“I said later. Now is later, right?” he tried to play it smooth but you weren’t buying it.
“Shouldn’t we head out? I feel guests should be arriving any second and we should greet them, no?”
“Fine. But I want to show you the ballroom first,” he insisted.
“Hm? Why? I can see it later,” you told him, not seeing what he was trying to do.
“It’s a surprise,” he said and he led you to the ballroom with closed eyes.
When you opened your eyes for the first time, everything was so pretty, you were in awe. The room was so spacious, enough room for hundreds of people to dance. There were extra chandeliers hanging with red ribbon draped over every light. Some tables were set up for seating and crimson flowers, the same shade as Bakugou’s eyes, decorated every corner, every table top, every space you could imagine. It was truly a sight to behold. You had seen the ballroom being built and put together but you had never seen the final piece like this. Bakugou comes up behind you, proudly, as you continue to admire the room.
“It’s all for you. Everythingis for you,” he said. You turn around to look him in the eyes and they were filled with admiration and love. Kirishima and the other soldiers were there, looking at how in love you both looked at each other. It warmed their hearts and put a smile on all their faces. Before you could grapple in each other’s face once again, Bakugou’s second oldest brother, Katashi, makes his entrance, also dressed for the occasion.
“Ah, if it isn’t the main characters for today,” Katashi spoke up, bowing in the direction of Bakugou. “Your highness.” He addresses the Prince in a sarcastic tone as he always does. But when he looks at you, he doesn’t say anything and brushes you to the side, like he didn’t acknowledge you at all. You felt awkward and tension rise in the air. Looking to the side, you could tell Bakugou was irritated.
“You will not disrespect your future queen like that,” Bakugou says.
“Forgive me, your highness.” He apologizes in a nasty, rude tone. “But however shall I call this… lady?”
“You will address her as, ‘Your Highness’”, he ordered. But Katashi doesn’t do so.
“I don’t think I should be addressing a mere servant with such high status,” he retaliates. And your stomach drops. You feel like your ears are deceiving you. How does he know? Was he just saying that to be disrespectful? Or does he actually know the truth? But how? You were protecting this secret so well, there’s no way he would have found out. Your heart rate was picking up the pace and your palms started to sweat. You had to focus on your breathing because if you didn’t, you would be having a full on panic attack and then your cover would be blown. While you were feeling all these rollercoaster of emotions, Bakugou was furious and grabbed his brother by the collar.
“What did you fucking say?” he asked through gritted teeth. It was like his brother was asking to be punched in the face and Bakugou would gladly give it to him. Yet, his brother didn’t look fazed at all. He just smirked.
“Oh, dear brother. You didn’t know? She is not the real princess,” he points out. And if on cue, the realprincess walks out from her hiding spot, revealing herself to everybody. Anybody who sees her could tell that she was a real princess. By the way she walked and presented herself, she was the real deal. Bakugou didn’t look impressed but you could see his eyes wavering, like he was confused. Because to him, you were the real princess. Why would you lie to him? And how did you come here instead of the real princess? It didn’t help that you two looked almost identical to each other. There were only a small differences he could make out because he stared at your face for a bit too long when you were sleeping.
“How do you know for sure that’s the real princess? What if you’re just lying to be an ass?” he challenged but his brother laughed at his ignorance.
“Oh, silly brother. If only you went to all those parties like Father suggested instead of tending to those poor souls, you would know that that woman next to you in an imposter, and your fiancée is standing right next to me. I could tell from one look that that woman was just a poor servant,” he spat at you, making you flinch at his harsh words.
“Well go on, princess. Don’t make me wait for the show,” Katashi gave the real princess the floor with his cocky self. She rolled her eyes and stepped forward, looking down on you with all the hatred in her eyes.
“Bow,” she ordered. As if a spell had been cast upon you, you bowed until you were parallel with the ground.
“Your highness,” you greeted her. Shame. Shame was all you felt in that moment. Bakugou watched as you bowed down to this self-proclaimed princess and he couldn’t believe his eyes. Neither did anybody else. Because they were all watching. Kirishima. Sero. Kaminari. Mina. The other soldiers. The guards. The servants. They were all watching you get put into your place.
“You really thought you could get away with this. I trusted you to break off this engagement and now you’re here? Marrying him in my place? How did you not think you were going to get caught? Well how does it feel now? To be humiliated in front of all these people who think you are royalty. Only to be revealed as some lowlife peasant who serves, not to be served,” she hissed at you. Every word stung your heart because it was true. You were an imposter who thought you could get away with marrying an unattainable man you fell in love with.
Bakugou had heard enough. His eyes were dark and his heart was fueling with rage. He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he takes your wrist and painfully drags you away into a room. He slams the door in anger and shoves you up against the wall.
“Katsuki,” you wanted to explain but he punches the wall next to you, making you tense up.
“Don’t fucking put my name in your filthy mouth,” he spits at you. And your heart breaks. Bit by bit, until a dull pain was left in place of your heart. But you had to keep preparing yourself because you know he wasn’t done there. You looked down at the ground, feeling put in your place, back as a servant. You couldn’t look him in the eyes anymore.
“You lied to me,” he breathed heavy, trying to maintain his cool but it was so, so hard.
“I was going to tell you,” you choked, barely able to get that sense out. The lump in your throat hurt so bad that you don’t know how you were going to speak.
“When? Until we were already married and start a family? Until I’m on my death bed? When? WHEN WERE YOU GOING TO TELL ME?!” he shouted, repeatedly hitting the wall. You were sobbing at this point, but you tried your best to keep it all together. For your own sake.
“When were you going to tell me?” he whispered, broken. Tears ran endlessly from your eyes and you shook your head, not knowing the answer.
“Everything we had was a lie. Everything I told you, was from my heart. And you just kept lying, and lying, and lying,” he talked to himself, turning away from you so he could narrate your whole relationship in his head. But you reached out to him. Despite you being in the wrong, you didn’t want to see him go. It couldn’t end like this. You wanted to explain. If he just let you explain, maybe, maybe things can turn around.
“Your highness, I lov-” you began but as soon as Bakugou heard those words, he became furious once again. He grabbed a dagger that was secured in his holster and threw it at you effortlessly. The knife landed right beside your head, barely slicing your cheek. Had he thrown it any closer, you would have been dead. But Bakugou was too confused in his feelings that he missed on purpose to let you live.
“Don’t you dare say that to me. I want you out of my sight, peasant,” his words stung like venom. Tears continued to pour out and before you knew it, servants were harshly tugging at the elegant clothes on your body until only white under garments were worn. You were escorted out of the palace with Bakugou not even sparing you another glance.
A/N: :)
Tagged: @superblyspeedydragon @melasnchz-things @animexholic @bkgwrites @sam-i-am-1025 @apexqueenie @katsukibabe @germfart3 @tspice283 @angie-1306 @bakugous-trauma @bakugousmrs @random-fandom-girl-24 @monetfatalia @triviajeongin @readingslumpfanfic @softredrobin @daddy-daichis @stardream14@spicysherlock @cathwritestragediesnotsins @luvtaromilktea @aaannaabbanana@i-ameri-cant @shyonigirichan @aomi04 @anime-for-live @maggiecc @cloudsgathering @backoftheletter @moshi-moshi-angie015
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cutesuki--bakugou · 4 years
Text
Anything, For You
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This is a continuation of Anything. Please be sure to read that part first if you want some context!
Rating:  Explicit
Warnings: Rough Sex (Vaginal and Anal), Threesome (Double Penetration), Weed / Alcohol Use, Rough Oral Sex (blow job, face fucking), Public Foreplay, Public Humiliation, Spanking, Choking, Obsessive Reader, Toxic / Power Imbalanced Relationship, Emotional Manipulation, Suggested Dubcon / Reluctant / Compliant Reader
Words: 12,128
Pairing: Drummer!Bakugou Katsuki x Superfan!Fem!Reader x Guitarist!Kirishima Eijirou
Quirkless, Punk rock band AU
Not specifically written for, but using it for the @bnhabookclub​​ ‘s members bingo event!
Crossed off: Threesome
Bingo Masterlist
BTW, please blacklist the tag cutesuki-lemons if you do not want to see this content from my blog. I will no longer be tagging with specific keywords for this type of content.Thank you~
Due to the nature of this post, the characters are 18+
Art in banner by me
Tag list: @lady-bakuhoe​ , @gallickingun​ , @unbreakableeiji​ , @boom-bakugou​ , @honeytama​ , @wakaoujisenhime​ , @ikinabi​ , @thotpatrolcaptain​ , @1-800-callmekatsuki​ , @tomurasprincess​ , @bratwritings​ 
You nervously tightened your grip on the small clutch in your hands, digging your nails into the faux leather and ignoring the sting of the metal pointed studs against your skin. For a few minutes now, you had just been standing outside of the club Garden, listening to the loud music and watching the flashing neon lights every time the door opened. With each group of people leaving, stumbling out drunk and high off adrenaline from dancing, the same amount were let in from an insanely long line, which even curved around the building to where you couldn’t see. There were so many people waiting to go in, and yet, you knew that you could just bypass this line and go on in. 
Why were you so nervous? 
It wasn’t the thought that you would be glared or yelled at by the people waiting if you skipped the line. Sure, it might make you a bit embarrassed if they picked at you, but that wasn’t the problem. No, it was who was waiting inside the club and who gave you that exact privilege to just come on in that terrified you. 
Bakugou 10:50 pm: come to the club Garden downtown around 1 am. just show your ID at the door and theyll let you in past the line. 
Me 10:51 pm: Just me? 
Bakugou 10:51 pm: just you, babe. your shitty friends arent invited. 
After releasing a trembling breath, you opened your clutch to take a quick look at your phone, giving a small groan at the time that showed 1:02 am. It was time to go in, but you were so damn nervous. How could you not be? Showing up to a strange and very crowded club, to hang out and drink with your favorite people - or, well, person - on this planet? With what happened earlier that night, you knew that any type of debauchery could go down, and the stinging welts on your asscheek were testament to that. But there was going to be way more involved. More people, alcohol, and most likely some type of drugs, for sure. You knew that you’d need to be vigilant, but being in Bakugou’s presence again, you weren’t sure you’d have the willpower to say no to anything that was handed your way. 
Suddenly, your phone buzzed in your hand, startling you enough to make you jump and almost lose your balance on your chunky, boot style platform heels. Looking at the screen, the fire in your cheeks grew hotter, reading the text that Bakugou had just sent you. 
Bakugou 1:03 am: where are you at, babygirl? scared? 
Me 1:03 am: No, I’m about to come in. There’s… a lot of people.
Bakugou 1:04 am: fuck them and come inside. there’s someone waiting to bring you up.
Releasing a trembling breath, you put your phone back in your clutch and pulled out your ID instead, gathering your courage to walk up to the front door. One of the two bouncers immediately looked down at you with a threatening posture, though his demeanor changed at the sight of your timid presence. 
“Skipping the line?” 
“I… have VIP permissions. From Bakugou Katsuki… I’m [f/n] [l/n]. He said I should be on a list.” 
Taking your ID, the bouncer first checked it over with a flashlight to confirm its authenticity, before picking up a clipboard that was resting on a stool beside him. It only took him a moment before finding your name, smiling and giving a nod. “Yep, there you are. Follow me.” Putting the clipboard down and handing you the ID back, he made his way through the front door, at first holding it open for some people leaving before allowing you through. 
Any objections you may have heard from the people in line were immediately drowned out by the music, the heavy beat shaking the ground. It was quite dark in the large industrial style building, with only blacklights and flashing neon skylights illuminating the dancefloor. Though, up one floor, you could see a loft area with mostly regular lighting, though it was dimmed, and you wondered if that’s where you would be going. 
Following the bouncer as he made his way past, you used his impressive height and size to push through the crowds, since he was easily able to part the sea of bouncing drunken bodies. He led you to the stairs, as you had expected, and started to make his way up, only giving you a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure you were still following. Or to make sure that no one else was coming up, either. You weren’t sure. 
As you made your way up, you felt a bit embarrassed that the stairway was mostly exposed, using your free hand to hold your short dress up against your backside to hopefully keep anyone from seeing anything private. You weren’t wearing any hose this time, since the only ones you had brought with you into town for the concert were the fishnets that Bakugou had destroyed earlier. Your only cute pair of underwear had also been destroyed, so right after the concert, you had to hunt some down. All you could find at the only store still open was a pair of cute little lace boy short style panties, which were quite sexy and were decently invisible under your dress. You knew that they would be, since you got them from a damn porn shop. There was nothing else open at midnight, so there was no choice. It still ended up perfect, though. If something else did end up happening, you assumed he would like them. Or you hoped so. 
The closer you got to the loft, you realized that it was actually surrounded by glass. The only thing that was solid was the door, which was opened after a loud series of knocks from the bouncer. After a click, another man opened it up, glancing first at your guide before down to you. “She’s invited?” 
“Yes. [f/n] [l/n]. Bakugou’s guest.” Stepping aside, the bouncer and what appeared to be a security guard allowed you inside, the door shutting immediately once you passed the threshold. The sudden volume difference of the room startled you a bit, as did the change in lighting, but you were quick to take in your surroundings. 
There were multiple couches and chairs scattered about in strategic locations, along with tables that were already piled up with drinks. The room was much smaller than it seemed, with only one other door along the back solid wall, which you assumed was a bathroom. Then, your eyes landed on the men you adored, and your entire body instantly flushed with heat as you noticed all their eyes on you. 
“Your clutch, ma’am?” 
The security guard pulled you out of your stupor, holding his hand out in front of you. Nervously, you placed it in his hand, watching as he placed it in a bag behind him and zipped it up. Immediately after, he ran some type of long beeping device across the front and back of your body about an inch away, which you assumed was a metal detector. When it didn’t go off, he allowed you to walk further in with a wave of his hand, and you timidly stepped forward while pulling down your dress, clearing your throat a bit in awkwardness. 
“Hey there, babygirl.” Bakugou spoke with a sly smirk on his face, holding a glass of dark colored liquor near his lips. “Finally made it. Took you fucking long enough.” 
“Sorry…” Making your way towards the couch he was on, you took a moment to look at the other members, trying to control the nervous swirling of your stomach. “Nice to see you all again…” 
“You were in our first meet up group, right?” Midoriya smiled at you, placing his hand on the thigh of a curvaceous woman that was placed firmly on his lap. His voice was still quite strained and cracked, worn from the performance. “Kacchan told me he invited someone, but he didn’t tell me who!” 
“Because it’s none of your damn business, Deku,” With a snap of his finger as he held his hand out towards you, Bakugou commanded you over to him silently. Not even taking a second to think about it, you approached, taking his hand. He led you with only a gentle pull to stand between his legs, placing both of his hands on your outer thighs. “You look good, babygirl.” 
“T-thank you-” You were cut off by the sound of a door closing, along with an annoyed whine. 
“Aww, what the fuck?! Even Bakugou was able to get a girl this time, and he never does! I must have really sucked today.” Huffing, Kaminari shuffled his way towards an empty armchair, flopping down to sit with his legs stretched out in front of him, toes pointed towards the ceiling. “Bullshit.” 
“You suck all the time, dunceface.” 
“I do not! All the girls wanted me at our last gig.” 
“Yeah, because both Deku and Kirishima were out of commission after that, so they had no other option. Don’t be such a little bitch, if you want girls, go fucking dance.” Although Bakugou’s snappy demands were directed at his companion, his glazed over crimson eyes never left your body. They scanned over every inch of you quite diligently, as if he were missing you greatly just from these few hours apart. Unsure of what to do with your hands, you let one rest tenderly on his bicep while running the other softly through his bangs, pulling the fair blonde hair loose of the light grip of sweat that stuck it to his skin. You weren’t sure if it was the lighting in the room or maybe his intoxication, but you could have sworn that you could see the tips of his ears flush with your touch. 
“But I don’t want to go dance alone!” Kaminari whined, sinking further into the chair. His voice broke your concentration on the man in front of you, looking at the pouting bass player over your shoulder. It was odd, you thought, that there weren’t as many girls in here as you expected. Actually, there was only you and the girl with Midoriya, whose attention was fully on him, hands on his freckled cheeks and playfully squishing them together. Her bobbed brunette hair gave away who she was, as you had seen her in many of his social media postings, but you couldn’t quite remember her name. All you knew was that they were dating and had been friends for a very long time, but that didn’t really matter right now. 
Kirishima sighed, resting his arms up over the back of the couch, his hand pulling your attention as it came to rest decently close to Bakugou’s head, though the drummer didn’t protest or seem to even notice. “C’mon, man, don’t be such a downer! I think you need to take another hit and get down there. Take Todoroki with you.” 
Kaminari scoffed, looking over at the silent member of their band, who was more focused on his phone and his fancy martini looking drink than anything they were talking about. “What, so he can go stand in the middle of the dancefloor like a weirdo? He doesn’t have any dancing rhythm! He barely moves when we’re performing!” 
“Yeah, but girls like him more than you, he’d help you catch their attention.” 
“Now you’re all just being assholes!” Huffing, Kaminari sat up and leaned forward, snatching up a small glass pipe and the lighter beside it. “It’s not my fault that no one likes the bass players! I’m not as cool as you!” 
“Hey, I’ve offered to play bass sometimes.” Kirishima grinned, reaching over to scratch the side of his nose. “But Bakugou won’t let us switch--” 
“Fuck no.” Bakugou interrupted, now glowering at his friends, both of his strong hands resting on your hips firmly. “That’s too much power I’m not willing to give you, dunceface.” 
“Rude.” Grumbling under his breath, Kaminari glared down at the pipe as he brought it to his lips, lighting it up and taking a hit. The smell of weed hit your nose immediately as he exhaled, the cloud of smoke leaving his lips slowly as he leaned back in the chair. “Midoriya would.” 
“Because he’s a dipshit.” 
“You’re so aggressive today! I think you’re the one that needs a hit, bro.” 
“Fuck that shit. I’m not looking to fall asleep any time soon.” 
“You’re up way past your bedtime, anyway. Grandpa.” Passing the pipe and lighter over to Kirishima as he beckoned for it, Kaminari gave a sly smirk, knowing he could press Bakugou’s buttons while you were in his way. You could feel Bakugou’s grip tighten in irritation and see his brows furrow, but to your surprise, he was quick to calm, giving an annoyed click of his tongue as he used only slight pressure to pull you to the side, gesturing to the couch for you to sit. You did so, now effectively squished between the two men, one taking a hit while the other gulped down what was left of his drink. 
If you were honest, you felt quite… awkward. You didn’t really know what to do with yourself and you weren’t sure if talking would be welcomed. You were new to this tight knit group, and even though you admired and adored every single one of them, you almost felt like you didn’t belong there. Were you really worthy of being in their presence like this or being so close to Bakugou as he rested an arm around your shoulders, pulling you up against his side? It felt like a dream, and you were horrified that at any moment, you would wake up to find yourself lonely in your hotel bed. 
“Want a hit, sweetheart?” 
Your thoughts were disrupted by Kirishima’s pleasant ringing voice, his smile soft and comforting as he held the pipe and lighter towards you. At first, you hid your face a bit behind Bakugou’s forearm, fiddling with your nails. “I’ve never done it before… I probably shouldn’t.” 
“Aw c’mon, you should! You’re safe here with us! That’s pretty cool, too, isn’t it? To have you first hit ever with your favorite band.” Kirishima’s eyes left yours for a moment as he glanced up, most likely at Bakugou, though there wasn’t anything malicious that you could see. He was genuinely being very nice about it, and so far, no one had protested. Still, you looked up at Bakugou for approval, a sly smirk crossing his lips when you did so. 
“What, babygirl? Looking for permission?” 
Feeling heat rush to your cheeks at his domineering tone, you nodded. “Yes. Is it okay?” 
“What do you say?” His rough fingers took hold of your chin, tilting your head up as he leaned in, whisky tainted lips brushing against yours. Your heart began to race, chest heaving with steady, heavy breaths as you parted your lips expectantly. But, you were left with nothing until you answered, and you did so without a second thought or worry about what anyone else in the room might think. 
“Please, Katsuki.” 
A low hum resonated in his chest in satisfaction of your response, pressing his hot lips against yours to reward you for being so obedient. Or, at least, that’s how you understood it. In the few hours that you had been away from him, there hadn’t been a single moment of lucidness where you felt like you had escaped whatever hold he had placed on you. In fact, your wanting to be at his side only grew worse, to hear him praise you and reward you when you were a good girl for him. 
His praise. His touch. His attention. All of it was so intoxicating, and you wanted more. 
When he set your lips free after just a short moment, it took only a light bump to your chin to have you turn your head to look back at Kirishima, who was waiting patiently. He was still smiling, but there was a mischievous gleam in his eye, as if he had been waiting to see just how obedient you still were. It was gone with a blink, his pleasant and cheerful demeanor taking over as he held the pipe up between his fingers. 
“Yeah? Gonna do it, sweetheart?” 
“Sure,” You answered meekly, turning a bit more to face him. “Uhm… How do I do it?” 
Kirishima was very thorough in his explanation of how to use the pipe, and by the time he was done, you felt confident that you could do it. Though, your confidence didn’t amount to much, as you still ended up with quite the coughing fit after your first hit. Behind the coughing and burning in your throat, you could hear Kaminari gasp out in surprise, though you couldn’t quite focus on him yet through the smoke. 
“Holy shit, Kirishima, you should have just prepped it for her, that’s gonna fuck her up!” 
Chuckling, Kirishima handed you a cup of water, which you gulped down eagerly. “She’s fine, that wasn’t that bad! A little too aggressive on sucking it in, but you’ll get it down. You okay?” He gave your thigh a few comforting pats, his lingering on your bare skin not quite registering in your mind as you tried to calm the burning in your throat. Thankfully, it was fading decently quick, but it still wasn’t anything like what you had expected. 
“I’m okay,” You choke out after a moment, placing both the glass of water and the pipe down on the coffee table in front of you. “You guys make it look so easy!” 
“That’s because they’re fucking potheads.” Bakugou pulled you back up against him. “Especially Dunceface over there. Can’t go five minutes without being high.”
“Don’t be telling lies about me, Kacchan.” Kaminari waddled a finger at his friend, and you could tell that he was feeling pretty relaxed compared to a while ago. “It’s more like three minutes.” 
“Shut up. Where the fuck’s our bartender? We haven’t gotten new drinks-” 
“-Let’s go down, then!” Kaminari hopped up to his feet, clapping his hands together to try and get his friends riled up. “Let’s get some drinks and dance like we’re normal people, no one’s gonna recognize us down there, it’s too dark! This VIP shit gets boring sometimes. Right, Todoroki?” With a bounce in his step, he walked over behind the couch his quiet friend was sitting on, giving him a firm smack on the shoulders. “You’re just over here on your phone! Let’s go dance!” 
Todoroki took his friend shaking him from side to side like a champ, not looking away from his phone or spilling his drink. “I’ll sit at the bar, but I’m not going to dance.” 
“You will after a couple of shots. Midoriya? Ochaco?” 
 “Let’s go, Deku!” Hopping up off his lap, the brunette took both of Midoriya’s hands, trying to pull him up with meager strength. “Let’s all go!” 
With a heavy sigh in defeat, Midoriya stood, as did Todoroki. Though, there was no movement from either of the two men beside you, so you glanced between them curiously. Kirishima seemed interested, while Bakugou looked like he wanted to throw them all off the balcony just to get some peace. You weren’t sure if it was the excitement of being here, the electric energy from Kaminari, or the hit you had taken, but you really wanted to go. You were feeling restless and, if you were honest, kind of bummed out that you were still the only one who hadn’t had a drop of alcohol. You came here to have a good time with these guys. With Bakugou. But how could you talk him into it? 
“You losers coming or not?” Kaminari barked before you could say a word, glowering at the three of you still plastered on the couch as he stood by the door, waiting for their security guard to unlock it and step out. “Kacchan, you were complaining about drinks, come down and get some with us!” 
“Fuck, fine! If it will shut you up!” 
Everything changed pace in a blink of an eye from that moment. Before you knew it, you had taken two shots of… something, and sucked down a drink faster than you thought you would, all while watching the bouncing bodies on the dance floor with Bakugou at your side. Though, he wasn’t just standing next to you. His arm was hooked around your waist like a vice, his powerful and off-putting presence preventing any man with wandering eyes from even considering trying to come up to you. At first, you felt a bit embarrassed that he was so close and so protective, but you also couldn’t help but feel… flattered. And that flattery brought up a new bubbling in your belly. 
You were so happy. Again, you didn’t know if it was because of the high or the alcohol, but you were absolutely beyond tickled. It was such a strong sensation, in fact, that you couldn’t help but start to bounce on your feet and sway to the music. Your hips bumped into Bakugou’s as he stood beside you, one arm around your shoulders while the other propped him up on the bar counter. With the bump, he tightened his arm around your neck, pulling you in closer to him and pressing his lips against your ear so you could hear him over the blaring music. 
“What are you doing?” 
“Dancing!” You responded near his ear as he turned his head to hear you. “I like this song!” 
“You call that dancing?” With his insult, he moved his arm around your back and gave you a small push forward towards the dance floor, smirking at the confusion on your face when you looked back at him. Taking your drink from your hands, he finished off the last bit of it before leaving it on the counter behind him, giving your ass a tap to guide you forward. Within moments, you were both swallowed by the giant group of sweating, bouncing bodies, all who had little to no care on who they were touching or where they were moving. 
And yet, with Bakugou's arms around your waist from behind, you felt like you were completely enveloped in your own bubble. Just you, him, and the music. What truly snapped your restraint was his deep growl in your ear, tugging your hips tightly back so that your ass was firmly pressed against him. 
“Show me how you can really dance, babygirl.” 
No one would truly call the way you rubbed your bodies against each other to the rhythm of the music “dancing”, but all your body could comprehend in your intoxicated state. The flashing neon lights, from pitch black to strobing, was almost making you dizzy, and the only thing that seemed to alleviate the disorientation was putting all your focus on Bakugou. 
The way you two moved was seamless and in tune, his hands freely roaming your body with no fears of being noticed within the densely packed group. Even if someone did notice, you wouldn’t care. All you cared about was his lips against the skin of your neck, his fingers digging into your plush curves and the hard presence of his cock beneath his pants. Just feeling it against your ass made you remember how good he felt fucking you, the way he filled up every inch of your aching cunt and made you scream for him. 
How he made you his. 
How you would do anything for him. 
How he owned you. 
“Open your eyes, sweetheart.” 
The voice in your ear was a sweet growl; more of a purr to calm and coax you. It was so comforting that you almost forgot where you were for a moment, until you did as you were told. Instead of a group of dancing bodies in front of you, you were met with a clear view of that brilliant, wide grin sported only by Kirishima. He was in front of you, dancing with you and Bakugou together, his hands also firmly on your body to keep you pinned between the two men. 
Your entire body immediately flushed hot, pressing further back against Bakugou to try and get some space between you and the redhead. “K-Kiri-!” 
“Don’t you even think about it.” Bakugou growled in your ear, his hand coming up to wrap around your throat. “Let him touch you.” 
You didn’t have much time to even consider complying before Bakugou moved you both forward, not allowing you any space or chance to dip out from between them. You were trapped. How long had Kirishima even been there? Whose hands had been touching you this entire time, squeezing your breasts and your hips so eagerly? Had it been both of them? Whose hand was that right now, sliding up your thigh and bringing your dress with it. 
What was happening? They couldn’t actually be thinking about touching you here on the dancefloor, could they? In the privacy of the VIP room, maybe, but out here in the middle of all these people? Someone would notice! 
You tried to squeak out a plea to stop, but Bakugou’s hand around your throat stopped any little sound from slipping out. Instead, your hips were pulled forward and snug against Kirishima’s, one of his legs between yours so that you were practically sitting on his thigh. But that wasn’t where your hips were directed. Instead, with the beat of the music, Kirishima rutted his hips against you, and you could easily feel the hard presence of his cock against your scantily clothed sex. He was wearing loose black joggers, so there was basically nothing between you, and with both men surrounding you completely and still moving with the music, there was no hope of someone noticing. 
Needing to ground yourself, you clutched on to both of Kirishima’s biceps, his hands set firmly on your hips. The digging of your nails into his skin only seemed to spur him on further, becoming rougher with his thrusts, and the more he stroked across your clit, the more you began to lose yourself. It felt so good, even though you knew that it shouldn’t. It was Bakugou all over again, fucking your throat raw as your essence dripped down your thighs, just as it was now. Kirishima was using you for his own gratification, and Bakugou was allowing it. This wasn’t okay. 
You clenched your eyes shut tightly as Bakugou’s hands moved to caress your breasts, squeezing them roughly and eagerly pinching your nipples. You heard him groan in your ear, his attention to your nipples increasing as he noticed the little studs in place. “Oh fuck, babygirl, I didn’t know you had piercings here, too. I’m an idiot for not stripping you in the changing room, but I’m not going to make that mistake tonight.” 
His teeth sinking into the skin of your neck and another harsh twist made your body jolt, a moan involuntarily slipping through your lips. Before it could get far, it was devoured by Kirishima, who kissed you passionately to silence you. 
What should I do? It feels good, but… I didn’t want Kirishima like this! 
A rough nibble to your lip forced your mouth open, unable to stop or resist Kirishima's tongue from invading. He tasted like weed and the sour sting of an energy drink still on his lips, but that isn’t what made you want to pull away. Was he… a better kisser than Bakugou? No one could be better than the blonde behind you… at anything! And yet, here Kirishima was, making you completely breathless and absolutely on fire. It wasn’t so brash or dominating, either. 
You loved it. A lot.
A moan leaked through the kiss as Bakugou moved his lips to your ear, running his tongue along the shell of it before nibbling harshly at the delicate skin below. “You like his cock rubbing up against you, baby? You like being pinned between us like the little desperate whore you are?”
Kirishima finally released your lips, giving you a chance to take in deep trembling breaths. “Yes, Katsuki! But I— “
“What?”
“I really have to pee!”
Both men paused with your proclamation, watching your face in confusion as you stood there trembling in their grip. You hadn’t been lying, and it was clear as day in your flushed face. You needed to go to the restroom. If you didn’t, you knew there would be an accident all over yourself and the two men that held you. 
“You’re serious?” Kirishima spoke loudly enough so you could hear him, and you nodded with urgency. After glancing at Bakugou, he took a step back, awkwardly trying to make his boner mostly invisible behind his joggers. “Okay. I’d rather you not piss all over.”
Bakugou turned your head towards him, his glare immediately making your legs feel weak. “He’ll take you upstairs. I’m going to get more drinks and meet you up there. You better not be using this as an excuse, or I’ll have to punish you.”
“I-it’s not, Katsuki, I promise- mmph!” You were silenced as he kissed your lips roughly, his frustration at having to stop apparent. Then, with a rough tap to your ass, you were urged forward and into Kirishima’s arms. You didn’t get a chance to glance back at Bakugou as you were led through the crowd, Kirishima using his height and size to easily push through and bump people out of the way without too much inconvenience to you. Much to your surprise, he was quite attentive of you, pulling you out of the way of wild swinging arms and keeping a firm grip on you in case you were tripped by stray feet. 
By the time you finally reached the stairs, you were completely worn out and feeling like your bladder was about to erupt. Still, you made it up the stairs and into the singular bathroom before you could piss yourself, and as you sat on the toilet, you could truly feel how intoxicated you were. You weren’t sure if your mind was spinning from the alcohol, the weed, or the incredible rush that you had felt on the dancefloor. You could feel, however, that you were incredibly sweaty, your hair sticking to your forehead, cheeks and the back of your neck like it was glued to your skin. Though, the wetness at your cunt and spread across your inner thighs was even worse. 
You couldn’t believe that you had gotten so wet and turned on from what they had done to you. Even your pathetic excuse for underwear was completely soaked through, your essence thick and visible on the black fabric. The way they had cornered you like that wasn’t something that should have excited you so much, yet here you were, trembling and dripping wet. And now, you were caught up here in this room with Kirishima. Who knows how long it might take Bakugou to get the drinks, since the bar was incredibly busy and it had taken nearly fifteen minutes to get yours earlier. 
With a defeated sigh, you wiped and decided to clean yourself up the best you could, even patting your underwear with toilet paper. In the end, the attempt wasn’t very successful, and you almost wanted to rip them back off the instant you pulled them back up to your hips. 
After washing your hands and spending a few minutes fixing your hair and wiping your face and neck of sweat, you left the restroom, finding Kirishima standing near the coffee table with the weed pipe in his hands. He gave you a comforting smile as you approached, taking a hit and blowing the smoke away from you. “Feel better, sweetheart?” 
“Yes… Uhm… Why did-” 
“Want another hit?” Kirishima interrupted you, as if he knew exactly what you were about to ask and wanted to avoid it while he could. “You’re more relaxed now, you’ll get it this time. It’ll calm your nerves, too. You’re trembling like a leaf, babe.”
“I’m… not sure.” 
“You don’t want Bakugou to see you all nervous and uptight, do you?” 
The tone of his voice instantly made your stomach twist, able to hear the slightest twinge of a threat mixed in with the worried question. Of course you didn’t want Bakugou to see you like this. You had just been so peppy and energetic down on the dancefloor, he would surely be annoyed if you grew so timid all the sudden. So, without a word, you took the pipe and lighter, doing everything you could to ignore the twist at the corner of his lips. 
Letting out a trembling breath, you brought the pipe to your lips, able to inhale, hold, and exhale without any urges to cough outside of a slight clearing of your throat. Chuckling, Kirishima took the pipe and lighter from you, setting them down again. “See! Look at you! A natural.” 
“It’s stronger this time.” 
“Yeah, I cleaned it out and prepped it again while you were in the restroom.” As he spoke, you made your way over to the front of the room, looking out of the glass and down at the bar, scanning for the blonde you had left behind. It didn’t take you long to see him, sitting on a stool as he awaited the delivery of the drinks. Though, you instantly felt heat rush to your fluttering stomach, surprised to see that he was already staring up at you. You couldn’t see his expression, but you could almost feel the icy daggers of his glare on your skin. In fact, your entire body was tingling, your mind growing dull while your body felt like every inch of you was being lightly pricked with needles. It was as if you could feel everything. Your hair tickling the back of your neck. Your dress tight against your chest. Your hot and wet underwear clung tightly against your folds and your clit. 
“Find him?” Kirishima nearly startled you enough to make you jump as he came to stand beside you, looking around curiously at all the activity below. “He sticks out like a sore thumb, doesn’t he? Ah, there! He’s already looking up here, too. He’s so into you, babe.” 
“He is…?” 
“Oh yeah. And I can see why.” One of his large hands came to rest against your lower back, stepping in a bit closer to you. “You’re so cute and timid. Obedient.” His hand began to travel down along the curve of your ass, the slight sting of your welts from earlier making you tense and nibble at your lower lip. “Sexy. It’s hard to keep my hands off you.” 
“Katsuki might… get upset if you do anything when he’s not here.” You clutched at the bottom of your dress, trying to keep it down in the front while Kirishima slowly pulled it up from the back. 
“Oh you’re right, he might. Then you’d better not do anything to let him notice, hm? He’s watching us, after all.” His hand began to stroke along your ass, groping and squeezing with a firm grip. “Damn, you have a nice ass.” 
A small squeak escaped your lips as two if his fingers slipped between your cheeks, rubbing your sex on the outside of your underwear. “Kiri… I’m… I don’t want to without Katsuki here.” 
“You sure about that? ‘Cause your wet pussy is telling me otherwise.” With aggressive movements that made you involuntarily take a step closer to the glass, Kirishima moved his hand into your underwear. Without skipping a beat, his middle and ring fingers slid into your wet cunt with ease, forcing a sweet gasp from your lips. “Oh fuck, you’re tight. It’s no wonder Bakugou’s already obsessed after only fucking you once.” 
He began to move his fingers in and out of you, slowly dragging along your inner walls, being sure to keep them curved at just the right angle. Each time he dug them into you, he pressed right into your most sensitive areas, making your entire body tingle and soft moans escape your lips. Though, just as you were about to lean forward and stick your ass out for him, he gave a small hiss in warning. 
“Don’t move, sweetheart. You want him to notice?” He quickened his pace, as if he were trying to get you to give yourself away. Resting his body against the glass using one arm to prop himself up, he appeared completely casual. Since he was turned slightly towards you, he could use this angle for better leverage, digging his fingers into you faster and deeper. “But it’s not just him. Everyone down there can see us.” 
From down below, you were sure that there wasn’t anything suspicious about the two of you, and keeping that facade was completely up to you. Even so, how sensitive your body felt, and the pleasure was already beginning to make your legs weak, so you had to press your hand against the glass to support yourself. Your panting breaths fogged up the clear surface now that you were so close to it, even able to feel your hard nipples rub against the cold. It was so much stimulation so fast that you weren’t sure how long you were going to be able to hold out. 
Whining as you bit down on your bottom lip, you clenched your eyes shut tightly, digging your nails against the glass. “Kiri… please… He’ll notice!” 
“I wonder what he’ll do, then.” He began to alternate between fingering you and rubbing your clit, nearly crippling what little hold you had left on yourself. “He’d punish you, for sure, but I wonder how? Maybe he’ll spank that pretty ass until you’re crying. Or edge you over and over. Or not give you anything at all.” 
“I… please--” A moan cut you off as you began to feel yourself growing closer and closer to your release, placing both of your hands against the glass, now. “Please, I can’t hold it!” 
“Going to cum already? Let’s change it up a bit, then.” 
For a split second, you thought that he was going to completely stop as he removed his fingers from your aching and trembling cunt. Instead, you were met with a jolt of shock through your core as both of his fingers moved to your asshole, beginning to press into you without any warning. You couldn’t stop your hips from arching back towards his hand, your upper body and forehead firmly against the glass. “K-Kiri-!” 
“Ooh, looks like someone like their ass filled up, hm? What a shame Bakugou didn’t play with you here, that little squeak you just made was adorable.” His fingers slid into you up to his knuckles, bending and flexing them apart to make you moan and wiggle. “That’s it, sweetheart. You like your ass fucked?” 
“Y-yes,” you forced your eyes open, looking back down at Bakugou through the dark and flashing neon lights. He was still watching you, but there was something else. With the cover of the dark and his hips turned towards the counter, you could see him palming himself between his legs. Could he tell what was happening? Was he really getting off on it? “Kiri… I think he can tell- ah! Fuck!” Your voice cracked as he began to move his fingers within you, moving at an even quicker and more aggressive pace than he had been before. 
“He can? Well fuck, sweetheart, that means so can all the other people down there.” Kirishima moved in closer, pressing his lips against your flushed cheek, his smirk wide and eyes gleaming with enjoyment. “Can you feel their eyes on you? Watching you get off on me fingering your ass like the good little slut you are. You like being watched, don’t you?”
“I… I don’t want them all to see me! But Katsuki is… he’s watching…” 
“That’s right. He’s watching while I get to play with you. He’s so jealous he can’t help but watch, just waiting for his chance. You like that, don’t you?” 
“Yes… Yes, I like him watching me.” Your body began to rock with his movements, the pleasure building back up rapidly. “Just to know that Katsuki wants me so bad… It makes me so hot!” You couldn’t stop your voice as your hips arched further back, trembling legs spreading a bit. “Please! Please let me cum, Kiri! I want to cum while he watches me!” 
“Yeah, babe, cum all over my fingers. That’s it.” The encouraging grumble of his voice in your ear and the increased speed of his fingers within you immediately made you lose it, gasping and moaning against the glass as you struggled to stay up on your feet. The waves of pleasure that crashed over you were so intense, much more than you had ever felt just from a little assplay, but you didn’t care to try to rationalize why. 
“What a good girl.” Kirishima pressed his lips against your cheek in a playful kiss, removing his fingers and giving your backend a few light smacks. “How about we sit down for a while, hm? You need to relax a bit before Bakugou gets back up here.” 
Pushing yourself up off the glass, you didn’t think about looking for Bakugou again before you followed him over towards the couches on weak legs. You could still feel the remnants of your orgasm pulsing through your body, the slickness that you had wiped away in the bathroom once again coating your thighs and further soaking your underwear. His large, rough fingers had felt so good inside you, and although he had allowed you to cum, you were feeling severely unsatisfied and just all around… needy? Was that the right word to use? You wanted them to touch you, to hold and to praise you. But for now, it seemed as if Kirishima was perfectly content to wait a while, leaving you standing by the couches as he flopped to sit, resting back against the armrest with his legs up casually on the cushions. 
Nearly immediately, your dizzy gaze landed on the very obvious form of his cock beneath his joggers, reminding you immediately of what he had done to you on the dancefloor. Now that you could see it, your stomach fluttered with curiosity and interest, making you crave to have his cock in your hands. Walking over casually, you ignored his curious look as you took a moment to take off your shoes, before settling onto the couch between his legs. For the first time, you saw his cheeks flush, obviously having not expected you to suddenly be so handsy as you palmed along the hard length of his cock. 
“What’s up, sweetheart? Can’t wait?” 
“You’re… bigger than Katsuki?” 
Your question was met with a chuckle, Kirishima’s grin breaking his face as he allowed you to touch him. “Don’t let him hear you admit that. Not by much, but yeah, sure. Take a look.” 
With his permission, you pulled his pants down just enough to allow his cock to spring free, a shocked squeak nearly escaping your throat at the sight of him. It was true, he wasn’t any longer than Bakugou, but his girth was much more impressive. His flushed tip was pierced just as Bakugou’s had been, but he sported a bar through the underside of the blushing head that you recognized as a prince albert. For a moment, you wondered if all the band members had their dicks pierced, but that thought was quickly pushed to the back of your mind as his cock gave an impatient twitch. 
Without much consideration of the consequences, you took it into your hands, beginning to lightly pump and spread his precum around the tip and down his shaft. Kirishima gave a relieved sigh at your touch, resting one arm behind his head so he could relax and watch you. “Ah fuck… that’s it, nice and slow. Why don’t you spit on it a little, huh?” 
Leaning forward, you passionately rolled your tongue around his tip, before pulling back a bit and allowing your saliva to flow freely, using your hand to spread it down his length. The groan he gave made a smile creep across your lips as you sat back up from him, using both of your hands to stroke his cock with a firmer grip. “How’s that?” 
“Incredible. Fuck, babe… Let me see those pretty tits, huh?” 
Since your dress had low cut sleeves to begin with, it was easy for you to slip your arms out of them, before pulling the fabric down to expose your breasts to him. Not wearing a bra, they slipped easily from the tight dress, revealing your hard nipples and cute jeweled piercings. Leaning forward a bit closer to him, you continued to stroke his cock with the soft plushness of your chest around him, watching his face closely for any sign of approval. His usually smug or cheerful expression was hazed over with lust, crimson eyes watching your every move. He looked so cute and innocent, just like the man you had always seen on social media, and you loved that you had reduced him back to being his softer self just with a touch and a flash of your tits. 
Scooting your hips back a bit and propping yourself up on your knees, you leaned in and took him fully into your mouth, starting with just a sweet tease to his tip before taking him all the way down to the base. Kirishima immediately groaned and tensed beneath you, his large hand coming down to rest on the back of your head, gathering up your hair to keep it out of the way for you. “Oh fuck, damn it! Look at you, taking my cock so well. Such a good girl-” 
Suddenly, the sound of the door opening startled you both and you nearly gagged from the sudden pressure Kirishima put on the back of your head. Unable to move and unable to see, all you could do was listen to the booming voice from behind you while you tried to find some room to breathe with the cock down your throat. 
“You horny fuckers couldn’t even wait until I got back?” Bakugou’s voice was followed by the sound of the door slamming shut, along with the click of the lock. “I spend all that fucking time down there getting drinks for us and you decide to fool around without me?!” 
“Hey man, I didn’t start this! She wanted to suck my dick herself. Oh shit, sorry, sweetheart!” Kirishima released your head as you whined and wiggled to try and get yourself free, allowing you to come up. Coughing, you glowered up at Kirishima as you placed a hand over your throat, spitting the excess saliva that had gathered in your mouth onto his cock in retaliation. 
“Oh did she?” Bakugou came up behind you, putting the drinks down on the table before taking a hold of your hair and pulling you back so you were looking up at him. “And what about that little show you put on against the windows? Whose idea was that?” 
Your face flushed, stomach bubbling nervously as your fears that he could tell were confirmed. And yet, you only grew hotter, biting down onto your bottom lip as you peered up at him though your lashes. For a moment, you considered lying and saying that you had started it all, just to see what he would do, but the ever honest Kirishima spoke up first. 
“I couldn’t help it, man. She has a nice ass. But I didn’t tell her to act all obvious, she just couldn’t control herself.” 
“That’s because she’s nothing but a slut.” Still using his grip on your hair, Bakugou forced you back down so that your lips were pressed against the wet tip of Kirishima’s cock, not giving you any other choice but to open your mouth and take him in. Again, your head was forced all the way down to his pelvis, your nose pressing against his skin. As you whined, your eyes began to tear up from the pressure and uncomfortable presence deep in your throat, digging your nails into Kirishima’s hips to try and stop him from shifting beneath you. 
Struggling to breathe through your nose, you could feel your dress being pushed up around your hips, Bakugou’s free hand gripping your ass and spreading you open with no regard for the stinging welts he had left earlier that night. “Fuck, what the hell are these? Did you expect to get fucked tonight, baby?” His rough fingers stroked along your lace panties, before pulling them down away from your hips and to your thighs. “Look how fucking wet you are, too. Did that moron make you cum?” 
When he released your head, you pulled up slowly, gazing up at Kirishima to watch his flushed face and listen to his groans. Once your lips left him, you didn’t bother to spit or clean up the thick saliva and precum that dribbled from your tongue, using it to instead stroke him firmly with both hands. “Yes, Katsuki,” You choked out through your sore throat, arching your hips further up as Bakugou gripped your ass with both hands, spreading you open to watch your twitching cunt. “He made me cum while you watched. While the whole club could see.” 
“Did you like that I was watching?” Bakugou ran his thumb in slow circles against your clit. “Did that get you off, you nasty fuck?” 
“Mm, yes-” Your pace quickened, almost hypnotized by the way Kirishima reacted to your touch as Bakugou teased you. “I loved it.” 
“And how did he make you cum, huh?” The sound of a zipper and shifting clothing was lost behind his voice and the pounding in your ears. As your lips pressed against the tip of Kirishima’s cock to prepare to take him again, a moan interrupted you, your hips arching back up into Bakugou’s touch as two of his fingers slipped into your wet pussy. “Did he finger your slutty cunt?” 
“Yes,” Spurred on by the pleasure, you ran your tongue up and down along Kirishima’s throbbing shaft, your free hand pushing his joggers further down out of the way so you could cup and massage his balls. Kirishima gave a grunt, reaching down to dig his fingers into your hair again. 
“C’mon, sweetheart, tell him the truth.” 
“The truth? Tch, I bet I know what he did.” Removing his fingers from within you, they both slid up to your asshole, sinking in with ease and making your entire body shudder with a moan. “Your ass, huh? I should have fucking known. Fine, then.” Shifting his hips closer, you could feel the presence of his cock between your cheeks when he removed his hand, gripping your hips instead. “Let me fill up this slutty little hole for you.” 
Before you could truly ground yourself, the tip of his thick cock slipped into your asshole with just as much ease as his fingers, forcing a sharp gasp from your lips. Biting down onto your bottom lip as he sunk in inch by inch, you buried your face into Kirishima’s pelvis, your entire body trembling. Just as before, his size was more than you had ever taken before in either hole, and he left you feeling full and breathless. 
“K-Katsuki--!” 
“That’s right, babygirl. Moan my fucking name.” With a rough snap of his hips to start his quick pace, you cried out against Kirishima’s skin, your hand leaving his cock to instead dig your nails into his toned stomach. “How’s my fat cock feel, huh? Stretching your tight asshole-- ah fuck, baby!” As you constricted around him in response to the pleasure and his filthy mouth, he only fucked you faster and harder, his balls slapping against your clit and sending jolts of hot white pleasure through your body. 
For a while, you were completely engrossed in the feeling of his cock inside you, until a smack of Kirishima’s cock to your cheek reminded you that he was still here, too. Although it was nearly impossible for you to hold back your voice, you sat up and took his cock into your mouth again, using the pleasure to push yourself harder to please him more aggressively. 
“Ah shit! Damn!” Kirishima once again gripped onto your head, but with both hands this time. “Wait, wait! Hold still-” Using his grip on your head, he shifted his legs a bit, using new leverage to begin thrusting his hips up to fuck your mouth at his own pace. Completely at their mercy, you supported yourself with your arms against the couch, your eyes once again tearing up from the rough throat fucking and pleasure abusing your mind. The moans and filthy, lewd wet noises that came from your mouth were uncontrollable, as was the saliva and tears that coated Kirishima’s cock. 
It was painful.
It was hot. 
It was an absolute dream. 
And yet, you wanted more. You wanted these men to completely destroy you, to leave you as nothing but a twitching mess leaking their cum. 
“Want to swallow my cum, sweetheart?” 
With Kirishima’s question, you found the chance to try and get your way, giving a miniscule shake of your head as you reached up to try and push his hands off you. Bakugou scoffed, not letting up on his pace. 
“The fuck? Just cum, don’t ask her-” 
“Shut up, man, she’s trying to say something,” Allowing you up off his cock, you took a moment to cough, which was difficult behind your urge to moan and gasp in air. 
“I want both of your cocks inside me!” You finally choked out when you had a chance, gazing up at Kirishima with your flushed, teary and begging expression. “Please fill me up with both of your cocks! I need them!” A squeak escaped your lips as Bakugou grabbed you by the arms, pulling you up against his chest as his hand wrapped around your neck. 
“Beg harder,” He growled in your ear, one hand gripping your breast as he fucked you harder. For a moment, your mind went blank with the pleasure, unsure of what you had even wanted outside of Bakugou’s dick buried so deep inside of you. The pleasure in your core was near cracking, and as you looked down at Kirishima to see him pumping his own cock at the sight of you being ruined, it only spiked higher. 
“I want you to both fuck me! Please! Please, Katsuki, I’m begging you! I-- aah, fuck! Fuck!” Leaning your head back, it wasn’t another second before you came hard, your body tensing in his grip and rocking back against his hips as they also came to a stop from how hard you squeezed around him. Giving a low growl in satisfaction, Bakugou held your body tightly back against him, digging his cock as deep into you as he could get with a light bucking of his hips. 
“Oh fuck, babygirl, that’s it. Such a naughty bitch, cumming from being fucked in the ass like that. And you still want more, huh?” Bakugou spoke low in your ear, and although you were beyond high on the release, you found it within yourself to nod. 
Smirking against your cheek, Bakugou removed his cock from you. “Fine then.” While you were still trying to regain control of your dizzy mind, he gave you a rough nudge, forcing your weak and trembling body to fall forward onto Kirishima. The redhead caught you by the arms to help you steady yourself, giving an annoyed huff as he guided you up to straddle his hips. 
“Watch it, man! She could have crushed my dick, then I’d be outta luck!” 
“Shut the fuck up. I’m sick of waiting, if you don’t get a move on, I’m kicking your fucking ass out of here.” 
“Boys, boys.” You pushed yourself up on your arms so you were balanced on all fours, smiling down at Kirishima through your lustful haze. “There’s no need to argue.” Reaching down between your bodies, you took hold of Kirishima’s cock, holding it steady as you ran your dripping wet sex along it, teasing your sensitive clit. “I’m here for you both to use me. As much as you want.” Looking back over your shoulder, you caught Bakugou’s glare, though it quickly flicked back down to your hips as you began to lower yourself down onto Kirishima’s cock, letting him slip into your pussy slowly. “You like watching, Katsuki?” 
Bakugou scoffed, his face flushing. “You’d better fucking watch it, whore. Don’t forget who owns your stupid ass.” 
“But I love it when you watch me,” You let out an airy moan as Kirishima filled you up all the way to the base, not leaving a single inch of you untouched. “Just to know that I turn you on so much without even having to touch you. Even if it’s another man… Even if it’s Kiri’s fat cock inside me. It makes me so happy, Katsuki.” Steading yourself with your hands against Kirishima’s stomach, you began to roll your hips, sighing and cursing softly from the pleasure. “Fuck, so big! Both of your cocks are so big and perfect!” 
As Kirishima gripped onto your hips tightly, he was immediately taken over by the euphoria he felt being buried so deep within your wet pussy, using his strength to guide your body to start bouncing on his cock instead. “That’s it, sweetheart. Fuck, your pussy is so tight!” It wasn’t another few seconds before he couldn’t resist thrusting his hips up into you, holding you steady as he ravaged your wet and clenching cunt at his own pace. He was hard and rough, slamming into you like a man starved, desperate for the pleasure and release he craved. “You’re such a perfect little slut.” 
Now forced to lean forward, weak arms propping you up on either side of his body, you allowed him to fuck you as he wished, each slam of his tip against your cervix blurring your vision with white sparks of pleasure. The way his thick cock filled you up and his piercing rubbed against your inner walls was building up your pleasure so rapidly that your body became completely weak, arms collapsing under you until you were laying on his chest. Somehow, you found the mental focus to look over your shoulder, your body flushing hotter at the sight of Bakugou eagerly pumping his own cock, his glare locked on the way that Kirishima was using you. 
“Ka- Katsuki,” You choked out through your moans, doing everything you could to keep hold of your mind for just a moment longer. “Please watch me while I cum! Please! A-ah! Kiri, w-wait, I--!” As the redhead grew rougher with you, there wasn’t anything you could do to hold back the pleasure any longer, and your orgasm ripped through your body like a spark of lightning, making your entire body tense and tremble. “Fuck! Fucking hell, that fat cock is so fucking good!” 
“Damn right it is, sweetheart.” Kirishima landed a hard smack to your currently unmarked asscheek. “You like being fucked by big cocks?” 
“Yes… I’ve never had cocks like this though…” You turned your face more into the skin of his chest, ignoring the sweat and drool. “Both of you… So perfect…” 
“We aren’t even done with you yet, sweetheart.” Taking hold of your ass in both hands, Kirishima spread you open, addressing the blond that still sat behind you, who was oddly quiet and patient. “C’mon, man. Let’s give her what she really wants.” 
For a moment, you felt embarrassed at the fact that Kirishima was holding your cheeks apart, your pussy still stuffed with his cock and your asshole twitching in anticipation. Looking over your shoulder again, you caught Bakugou’s gaze, the pleading expression in your eyes instantly bringing a wicked and excited smirk to his lips. That initial embarrassment spiked, holding your breath as Bakugou came in closer, taking over the task of holding your ass open. 
The tip of his cock, hot and blushing with the need for his own release, teased your tight, unoccupied hole, the feeling of his frenum piercing rolling across your skin bringing a whimper from your throat. You wanted it so much that it was nearly painful to have to wait like this. You felt powerless in the situation, only able to wait for them to decide to begin, and the anticipation was making your stomach flutter and roll. The butterflies escaped your lips with the sound of a small plea, barely audible even by you, but Bakugou was quick to take notice. 
“What’s that, babygirl?” 
“P-please…” You pushed the word out with your strangled breath, still watching him from over your shoulder. “Please don’t make me keep waiting!” You bit down onto your bottom lip as his thumb rolled over the waiting hole, teasingly dipping it in to the first knuckle. “Mm... Katsuki--” A sharp gasp escaped your lips as he landed a rough spank to your already bruised and abused cheek from earlier that night in the dressing room, the spike of pain making your body tense. Kirishima groaned and wiggled beneath you, his hips bucking lightly impatiently as your core squeezed tightly around him in reaction to the pain. 
“Aah fuck! Shit, sweetheart, don’t squeeze so tight like that, it’s hard enough not to fuck your brains out right now.” 
“What’s the matter? She’s too tight for ya?” Bakugou landed another hard, full palmed smack to your ass, forcing a sharp moan from your lips and your tensing body bringing Kirishima into another series of squirming. “I’m surprised you’re still in this, you’re usually a two-pump chump!” Then, the instant your body calmed, he shoved his entire length into you in one fell swoop, his hips meeting with the red plushness of your ass. “Fuck… How can she be such a perfect little slut?” 
The sudden feeling of being so full knocked all the air out of your lungs, your back arching to try to accommodate them both, digging your nails into the fabric of the couch. Your mind was so overwhelmed with the pressure that you could barely hear Kirishima snapping back at Bakugou for the insult he had given him, only hearing the sound of his voice without comprehending words. They were both buried so deep inside you that you worried you might split apart if they started moving, and with that realization, another came to the front of your dizzy mind. 
You’ve never had two dicks inside you at the same time. 
Never. 
With how excited and desperate you had been for it, the men must have assumed that you had and weren’t going to go easy on you. You wanted to speak, to say anything to tell them the truth, but you found it nearly impossible to pull enough air into your lungs to speak. They were about to absolutely ruin you, and you wondered in that moment if you’d be able to take it, or if you’d beg for mercy with the first thrust. 
It was Kirishima who moved first, thrusting his hips upwards slow and shallow, forcing a cry from your throat and your eyes to clench shut, hiding in his chest. “Shh, sweetheart, we got you.” Since Bakugou was holding onto your hips, Kirishima’s hands were free to caress you, one on your side and the other on the back of your head. With his tender touch, however, came longer strokes of his cock inside you, the overwhelming presence pushing tears from behind your closed eyelids. “Just breathe.” 
Bakugou, however, was not as merciful. He picked up on Kirishima’s rhythm, pulling himself all the way out to the tip before plunging back into your tense and constricting asshole. Bakugou hissed, digging his fingers into your plush hips, his blunt nails stinging your skin. “Fucking hell, babygirl, you’re just sucking me right in. Damn-!” A groan escaped him as he picked up his pace, your body starting to rock between them as the skin of his pelvis slapped against your red and abused cheeks. 
“A-ah, Katsuki-!” You nearly screamed out in shock, though your face was still buried into Kirishima’s chest. “Not so fast! Please!” 
“Oh no, babe. You begged for this. We’re giving you exactly what you asked for.” 
As if picking up on a cue, Kirishima also increased his pace, until they were both thrusting into you as deep as they could possibly get, hard and fast. Though, with their increased pace came a new feeling washing over you, pushing past the dull, uncomfortable pain. They were filling up every inch of you, caressing you and staying as perfectly in sync as they could, doing everything they could to pleasure you. And that was all you could feel. 
The pleasure. 
It pulsed through every inch of you like shockwaves, sending it rocketing up your body and down your limbs. There was no other word that you could think of to describe it besides “perfect”, and you knew that there would never be another set of men in your entire life that could make you feel this way. That could use you like this, making you feel so vulnerable yet adored at the same time. No matter the reason, these two men who you loved dearly, wanted you. 
And damn, you were happy. 
“Fuck, yes-!” You finally choked out, finding a smidgen of strength to allow you to prop yourself up on your elbows. Still, your head hung slack, your tear-filled eyes rolled up and mouth open with unending moans. “Your cocks feel so good inside me!” 
“There she is,” Deep groan reverberating in his chest from your encouragement, Bakugou increased his place, giving you another firm slap on the ass. “That’s right, you slut. Now tell me who you belong to.” 
“You! You, Katsuki-!” 
“-And?”
“-Kiri! I belong to both of you! I’m your little slut, please do whatever you want with me! Just please don’t stop, I want to feel your cum inside me!” 
If you were honest, you weren’t sure how long they ravaged you like this. You came again, before your body was just too overly stimulated, and all you could do was lay there against Kirishima’s chest, moaning and trembling constantly. There wasn’t a rational or clear thought in your head, only able to focus on their dicks inside you, and their increasingly loud moans and grunts. 
They were getting close. 
“Fucking shit-” Bakugou was barely able to get the curse out before his hips began to shutter, his thrusts becoming erratic and shallow until he released inside of you, the hot feeling of his cum pulling you back into full consciousness. You peeked at him over your shoulder the best you could through your wild hair, finding his flushed, sweaty, and satisfied image endearing. You felt so empty with his exit, but you didn’t have much time to focus on that, as Kirishima immediately scooped you up and flipped you both over so you were beneath him. 
Smirk on his lips, he bent your legs back up to your chest, his pace and depth only increasing and sending you into another round of incoherent moans. 
“That’s it, sweetheart. I want to see that pretty face when I fill you up with my cum.” 
Clutching onto his arms tightly, your nails dug into his biceps as your eyes stayed locked on the way his hips moved, almost hypnotized by the sight of his cock slamming in and out of your abused cunt. The veiny girth that was absolutely coated in your slick found no resistance, and with this new visual paired with the feeling of rapid dragging along your clenching walls, you could feel another orgasm peaking fast. “K-Kiri-!” 
“Going to cum on my fat cock again, huh? Go on- Ah, oh fuck-!” A hiss escaped through his teeth as you came, your entire body quivering, cunt clenching around him and head leaning back. Your moans hitched and shook uncontrollably, unsure of exactly how loud you were as your mind fogged over with the endless waves of pleasure paired with the new heat that flooded your core with Kirishima’s release. The redhead that pinned you down was rough with his release, his hips rutting against yours with sharp snaps and deep grinding, which only prolonged your release until you were nothing but a limp, trembling mess. 
“Look at you. You’re so damn pretty.” Kirishima’s voice barely registered in your mind, as did the clicking sound of a phone taking pictures. “Bakugou, come hold her legs back.” 
Your teary gaze landed on Bakugou as he came to stand near your head, taking your calves into his hands and pulling them back so you were further contorted. With the movement, Kirishima removed his cock from within you, leaving you feeling incredibly empty, though the heat of his cum leaking out of you was very noticeable. With a whine as your knees were pressed on either side of your head, you weakly gripped onto Bakugou’s hands, looking up at him with exhausted, innocent curiosity. Fluffy blonde hair stuck to his face that was coated with sweat, Bakugou smirked down at you, glancing over every inch of your body. 
“Fuck babygirl, you should see yourself. You’re a mess.” 
You swallowed hard against your dry and aching throat, smiling softly as your hand traveled up and down his forearm tenderly. “All… all for you.” The sound of the phone's camera going off finally got your attention and you looked at Kirishima instead, your stomach fluttering nervously at the sight of him snapping pictures of your body. “P-pictures…?” 
“I’ve never seen a pussy this pretty, sweetheart. And it’s just dripping with my jizz… Your ass is, too, with your cheeks all fucking red from Bakugou spanking you. You’re a damn masterpiece, baby. I should have recorded this whole thing.” Obviously filming now, Kirishima ran his thumb from your asshole up along your cunt and to your clit, dragging the mess of cum with him. After a few teasing rolls of your clit, he brought his thumb up to your mouth, not even having to say a word before you opened wide to suck the digit clean. “Damn that’s hot.” 
“Save that recording shit for later. There will be plenty to shoot back at the hotel. Right, babygirl?” Bakugou released your legs, allowing you to close them and rest them comfortably to the side. Once your mouth was free of Kirishima’s fingers, you licked your lips, eyes locked on your celebrity crush as he gazed down at you expectantly. 
Any rational thought that should have peaked in your mind was smothered by a screaming need to stay with him, to do whatever he wanted just so that you could be in his presence for as long as possible. Before you knew it, you were up on trembling knees, turning to face him and timidly clutching on tightly to the front of his shirt. “Yes, Katsuki. Anything you want.” 
“That’s right,” Bakugou pulled you in closer, latching his arms around your torso and kissing you with a gentle passion that sent your heart racing. “You’ll do anything for me.” 
“And for me.” Kirishima came up to press himself against your back, his hands tightly on your hips as he kissed your cheek playfully. You couldn’t resist a soft giggle from escaping your lips, both of your arms wrapping around Bakugou’s torso tightly. 
“Mm, yes! Anything for both of you-” 
KNOCK KNOCK
“Hey, are you three done in there yet!? Hurry up! We have girls and more drinks, and I have to piss!” 
“The couches better still be clean!” 
Kirishima chuckled, releasing you with a final pat to your backside before hopping up and fixing his clothes back into proper place. “Shit, sorry, just a sec!” 
Bakugou, however, didn’t bother responding to them, kissing you again tenderly while pulling your dress back down to cover your hips. “I hope you’re ready, babygirl.” 
“For what?” 
“The afterparty is just getting started. I hope that partying with your favorite band will be everything you ever dreamed of.” 
“As long as I get to be close to you, Katsuki, I’ll do anything. Anything at all.” 
“That’s my good girl.”
2K notes · View notes
silversatoru · 4 years
Note
hi!! me again, saw that you want some bnha requests and hoo boy do i fuckin got one for ya
im a hardcore member of the fuck bakugo 🖕🏼 squad but i also wanna fuck bakugo ya know?
therefore i would like to request a smut fic where bakugo is so painfully angry at the fact that he has a crush on the reader that he ends up getting caught stealing their panties and chaos ensues 😌
anyway love you bye ❤️
compulsion
touch-starved bakugou katsuki x f!reader
tags/warnings: nsfw, oral sex (male receiving), mild obsession, dom?reader, characters aged up
w/c: 1.9k
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katsuki bakugo hates a lot things.
he hates hero training, he hates his annoying classmates, and he hates the fact that it rained today. he hates living in the UA dorms and he fucking hates the overly salted bowl of ramen he was forcing down his throat right now.
bakugo katsuki hates almost everything, but he doesn’t hate you — and he hates that doesn’t.
having a distaste for the world made things easier, because if he always assumed the worse than he’d never be disappointed. he’d gotten pretty far with that logic — that was up until you waltzed into his life and fucked it all up, sending his logic hurling out the window.
when he looked at you he didn’t feel the same hate that he felt for the world around him — in fact when he looked at you he felt a disgusting urge of optimism. he liked the way your hair fell around your shoulders, the way your lips curled when you smiled, and the way your skirt rode up your thighs. he didn’t hate anything about you and that’s what he hated most.
see ya later, katsuki! you’d called to him after hero training today, your round glossy lips pronouncing his name in a way that made his heart flicker and his blood boil over. why did everything about you have to be so fucking perfect? he couldn’t find a single flaw on your annoyingly pristine body no matter how hard he searched for one.
your voice consumed his mind — everything you said to him today replaying on repeat at the center stage of his brain:
come eat lunch with us, katsuki!
hey katsuki, did you finish the math homework? number seven makes like- no fucking sense.
have you seen those chips i like, katsuki? i swear if denki ate them all again i’m gonna kill him
your voice was precious, a terribly sensual melody in his sullen ears. and the way you clung to the ends of your words for just a little too long was repulsively adorable too.
katsuki needed something, anything, to get you off his mind. sitting here and daydreaming about you was making him irate with himself — forcing intrusively irrational thoughts through his thick head. something, anything, he needed to stop thinking about you.
he tossed what was left of his shitty ramen into the trash can and exited the kitchen. the common area was filled with students right now, you included, and it was much too crowded and annoying for his liking. you were sitting with hanta, laughing at some shitty fucking joke he was spouting off.
not that he enjoyed watching that lanky scotch-tape dispenser flirt with you — but it was keeping you busy. your dorm room would be empty right now, wouldn’t it?
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
katsuki’s not sure how he ended up here, seething with anger and digging fervently through your drawer of panties. surely you wouldn’t mind if he took just one pair, right? you have to understand that he wouldn’t be doing this if he didn’t absolutely need them. he wouldn’t be doing this if you didn’t make him so fucking angry — this is your fault, not his. 
he lifted the lacy material closer to his face for further inspection, unable to prevent his mind from wandering to how it would look wrapped around your body. fuck, they even smelled good — not that he was smelling them intentionally or anything, don't get the wrong idea. he just so happened to get close enough that the soft aroma of cherry blossom fabric softener wafted into his nostrils.
simmering with anger and foggy with unwanted lust, katsuki pocketed the panties for later and turned back towards the door — the same door that you were now standing in front of with immense confusion in your eyes. fuck. 
“uh... hey katsuki, whatcha doin?” you stepped into the room and closed the door behind you, cocking your head to the side. 
“i- uh- it’s fucking none of your business,” he snarled at you, face flushing as he tried to figure out how long you’ve been standing there and how much you saw.
“you’re in my room dude, it’s totally my business,” you raised an eyebrow at him, “and that pair of panties you took is one of my favorites, maybe you could pocket one of the uglier pairs?”
“god, fucking dumbass, this is your fault! i wouldn’t be here right now if you weren’t so fucking infuriating,” his face was so angry and flushed you could have sworn there was steam sizzling off his skin.
“me? it’s my fault you’re standing in my room with a pair of my underwear in your pocket and an obvious boner in your pants?”
katsuki grimaced, faltering for just a second as he awkwardly shifted his sweatshirt and pulled it down to cover his swollen erection, “yeah shithead, that’s what i just said. weren’t you fucking listening?”
“this is horribly desperate, katsuki, you could have just asked. i’m more than willing to help you out with this,” you stepped forward and began to shorten the distance between the two of you.
“willing to help me? are you insane? i don’t need your fucking help!” he tried to retaliate, but you were already inches from him, reaching down and dragging a hard palm over the lump in his jeans.
“quit screaming like a lunatic and let me help you, i know this is what you think about,” you pressed harder and gave him an icy stare, the boy using everything in his power not to crumble under your touch.
he’d never been touched like this by anyone, and he was so caught off guard by your sudden movements that he simply stared back at you, frozen in place. no arguments, no insults, no deflective blaming — his brain could barely compute his own name now that your hand was prodding at his bulge.
“that’s what i thought,” you cracked a small smile, “poor katsuki, always pushing everyone away and never getting any action. come sit down”.
katsuki failed to wrap his brain around the current events, wondering how his failed attempt at stealing a pair of panties had led to him sitting on the edge of your bed while you stripped him of his trousers. you were sinking to your knees now, head perfectly level with his cock that was standing flush against his abdomen.
he almost flinched when you reached out and brushed your delicate fingers over the red, swollen head of his dick. his cheeks were flushed with a deep red, and he wanted nothing more than to yell you, to tell you how much of a freak you were. but he didn’t, because as much as he hated to admit it, your touch was the best thing he’d ever felt.
your fingers were wrapped around his shaft now, pumping slow strokes as you warmed him up. he hissed and squirmed under your brand new touch — eyes squeezing shut and hands grabbing fistfuls of your comforter. katsuki had touched himself plenty of times, most of them while thinking of you, but your hand felt so much better than his ever did.
“you’ve never been touched like this, have you?” you pouted up at him, your fingers squeezing a little tighter and pumping a little faster, “poor baby”.
“i- fuck- ah,” he choked out a pitiful cluster of sounds that didn’t actually form any words but still gave you the answer to your question.
you were terribly amused, the typically angry boy was a twitching mess under your touch and you’d barely even started yet. you could only imagine how quickly he’d melt when your lips were around his cock — you were dying to find out.
you leaned forward and began slowly flicking your tongue over the puffy tip, still pumping the shaft with one of your hands. katsuki let out strings of sounds that could only be described as mewls and whimpers, his thighs shaking and his knuckles turning white. poor poor baby, you continued to think, i’m gonna make you feel better than you ever have before.
your head dipped low, the first few inches of his cock sliding across your tongue and into the back of your mouth. the blonde boy whined and bucked his hips, his eyes shooting open at the sudden burst of hot, wet pleasure.
“hng- fuck- fucking sh-shit,” his curses came out as pitiful gasps for air as he stared down at you with wide eyes.
you gradually took more and more of his length into the depths of your throat — his extensive length, by the way. for someone so blessed with such a big, pretty cock, you couldn’t believe he didn’t put it to use more often.
katsuki was cussing you out like it was his job, but each word was accompanied by a gasp or a humiliating whimper. he was so fucking embarrassed, but he felt much too good to care right now. your wet, sticky mouth was enveloping his cock in the most perfect way, jolts of euphoria spiking through his veins and fogging his head.
there was a pressure quickly building in his stomach, a tight wam feeling that signified he was going to come all too soon. but of course you expected this — honestly he’d lasted a few minutes longer than you thought he would.
when his orgasm finally racked through him, his entire body twitched and convulsed, his hips bucking wildly as strings of white liquid sprung from his cock and lined the walls of your tight throat. you milked every drop of cum from him, swallowing it down and then pulling your head back. as much as you wanted to push him and overstimulate him you decided to play nice for his first time.
“so good, katsuki. did you like that?”
his shoulders caved in and his head hung low as he finally came down from his high — the realization of all of the transpiring events finally catching up to him. he mumbled the quietest: yeah, it felt fucking good in response to your question, but refused to meet your eyes.
“we could do this more often, what you think?” you reached up and placed your hand under his chin, coaxing him to look at you.
“fuck- fine, yeah whatever, but don’t fucking tell anyone about this,” he growled, his angry eyes and twisted eyebrows finally meeting yours.
“of course,” you smiled, standing and tossing him his pants to put back on, “i just came here to grab a sweatshirt, so i better go before anyone comes looking for me. i’ll come find you later though, promise”.
and with that you were walking through the door, wiping your sticky lips on the sleeve of your sweatshirt and heading for the elevators. katsuki sat on the edge of your bed for a few minutes longer, mind blown by the curves of your mouth and the skill of your tongue.
katsuki didn’t hate you before, and he really doesn’t hate you now, but he’s coming to terms with it this time. letting his walls down for you doesn’t sound all that bad if it means you’ll keep making him feel like this.
203 notes · View notes
sukiglycerin · 4 years
Text
dolce (sweetly, softly, gently)
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* pairing: accompanist/violinist!katsuki bakugou x violinist!reader (gender neutral!) ft kamijirou
* genre: fluff, kinda angst, enemies to lovers, classical musician au hehe
* words: 9.5k (holy crap, this was a rollercoaster to write)
* warnings: swearing bc not only does bakugou exist, he is a prominent character, brief viola/second violinist jokes (reader’s words not mine), poor rosins being dropped :(
* a/n: SO this is very late for @prettysetterbaby​‘s v-day collab!! pls check out all the other talented writers involved >< jj is an ANGEL for putting up with me being late T_T  there’s some violin terminology in here but it’s fine if you don’t understand it! more notes at the end aha
* playlist (spotify in source link): violin sonata no.9, op.47 in a major “kreutzer” (beethoven) ; liebesfreud (kriesler) ; violin partita no.3 in e major (bach) ; duo concertante for 2 violins no.3 in d-sharp major, op.57 (beriot) ; clair de lune (debussy) ; duo for 2 violins in d-major, op.67, no.2 (spohr) ; 24 caprices op.1, no.24 in a minor (paganini)
* synopsis: being a soloist is not made easy by your new accompanist, bakugou. you step on each other’s toes when playing - but that’s alright, he’s just a pianist. you’re separated in your two worlds of musical instruments, until one day, you’re not. bakugou traverses over realms like a simple string crossing, and there’s a lot more he’s brought with him.
a double stop in violin is a technique in which two notes are played simultaneously. played correctly, one violin playing two notes should sound like two violins playing separate notes. if your life was a violin, you only needed double stops to play it. you'd perfected the art of being alone, playing the parts of two in your sad solo sonata. you were so, so sure you could compose and play for the whole orchestra - a symphony that would surely please the audience.
you were wrong. after all, a double stop has its limits as well, impossible to play with an interval of larger than a tenth. you were content with your double stops and playing by yourself. this was how you won countless competitions - what good would changing anything be?
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you were born a soloist, or that's what your parents would say. you never followed the crowd, sticking to your own mind and doing what was true to you. you never worked well in an orchestra setting (and who knew what would become of you if you ever landed in second violin!). thus, you became a soloist, determined to keep the spotlight on you. it was you and your perfection that kept the eyes of the audience transfixed; you were desperate to keep their focus enraptured by every slight movement of your bow, every shift in finger position on the fingerboard. you wanted them to follow every dynamic and tempo change like their life depended on it, feel their emotion spark the moment your bow pressed a string. you were the only one on stage, an entertainer and an artist to the audience. you brought joy and sorrow through key changes and wonder through glissandos and held suspense with every tremolo. the audience was yours for an entire piece, for a story, for a lifetime.
oh, and there was the accompanist. what was his name again? batsugou? bakugou. the last part was a joke, of course. you'd never forget the man who ruined your first recital overseas.
katsuki bakugou was quickly made your accompanist after the previous one quit last minute and schedule clashes between any other potential candidates rendered them unable to travel with you. no one in their right mind would've come along on a plane to play a piano accompaniment for you. indeed, bakugou was not in his right mind. his name was prominent locally, an orchestral prodigy with the gift of perfect pitch since the tender age of thirteen. he never ventured internationally, though given the chance multiple times to do so. you could never understand why he never took any of the opportunities. you'd jump at any chance of expanding your musical horizons and performing for a larger audience, so it frustrated you to see someone with such potential to throw away possibly beneficial opportunities. not that you really paid much attention to him, anyway. bakugou was a pianist, and you were a violinist. you only cared about competition, not those with blessings you could only dream of achieving.
the months leading to your recital, bakugou had gone quiet. well, you didn't know him personally, so it was news of him that had gone practically radio silent. he was no longer featured in news articles or even pinned on bulletin boards for upcoming recitals. there were no updates from him on social media, too. not that you really paid attention, anyway. he was a prodigy, gifted naturally with talent, and you were a violinist.
an ambitious violinist, at that. you had dreams to perform anywhere out of the stifling air of japan. even to fly a short distance to south korea would be amazing, because it meant you'd be outside of japan. you worked towards this goal tirelessly. you dreamed of stepping on a plane, violin case in your right hand and your dreams in another, to fly to another country and perform. you wished to see the talent beyond your own bubble and feel the music resonate in an auditorium in a different way than it did in japan.
one day, that dream was realized. your violin case in one hand and dreams in another, you boarded the plane flying out of japan full of hope and the faith that good days were coming. while yes, you didn't expect to step out of that plane with anyone but your old accompanist, momo, bakugou's presence comforted you in the foreign atmosphere. for the first ten minutes, he said not a word to you but made it a point to speak to everyone else he could in what seemed like very convincingly fluent english. 
to which you finally mustered up the courage to say, in japanese, "i thought you didn't travel internationally."
his japanese voice was a comforting sound. "i don't. this is my first time out of japan."
you stared at him like he just said he ate babies for breakfast (which seemed just as astronomically insane as him never stepping foot out of japan). 
"but-" you stuttered. "your english is so good?"
"only because you can't understand it." 
to be fair, he had a point. you could only say the basics, like, "hi," "how are you?", "i'm fine, and you?," and the ever-so useful, "do you speak japanese? my english is not good." he appeared to never use any of these phrases, so he was a god in english compared to you. 
it was a miracle you navigated out of the airport with your luggage in hand and a general idea of how to get to the hotel you'd booked. you're not going to talk about the events in the hotel, though. sharing a bed with bakugou was a whole different story that consisted of him complaining about your phone usage at eleven pm and you complaining about his lack of sufficient english skills to be able to get the right hotel room (which he'd retort by saying "at least i speak english!").
the path to your first international competition was rocky, so understandably by the day of the performance, your metaphorical feet were sore and you only had water on your metaphorical mind. that is to say, you hadn't practiced with bakugou once until the day before the performance. said rehearsal was cut short due to misunderstandings as a result of bakugou's apparent not-so-fluency in english. you felt bad for him at this point.
and then you were up on stage, violin in one hand, bow in the other, and arms full of your childhood aspirations. also, definitely not prepared enough. you glanced once at bakugou before beginning and he looked confident enough. the lesson you learned that day was that looks can be deceiving. 
something you could remember quite clearly was the way the spotlight shined on the varnish of your instrument as you held it, propped between your chin and shoulder. you focused on this shine before taking a deep breath, closing your eyes, and praying muscle memory would take over and you'd play the piece faithfully to the score.
you liked to think your playing was accurate. you, the soloist, were the main focus of the piece. the accompaniment made the piece richer and fuller, complementing the violin beautifully while keeping attention on said violin. the thing was, bakugou, like you, played like a soloist. 
the performance was like a fight, and sadly not the graceful kind you'd see in a ballet. it was gory and a nuance to the ears, melodic tinkling of the piano becoming tears of a soldier dying in combat. at parts, you clashed by overshadowing the other by playing too loudly. sometimes it was you, and sometimes it was bakugou. it was a merciless game of tag; bakugou would be running to keep up with your playing; once achieving so, you were forced to start chasing after him. you can't exactly remember if he played well, though. for certain, he was not in sync with you, but you were mainly too preoccupied with your own playing to pay attention to his. listening to the recording of the performance, you were unable to evaluate his quality of playing properly, and thus, he remained your accompanist even when you returned to japan. 
(actually, the biggest reason he stayed your accompanist was because of your classical musician friends' nagging. they were all in complete awe that the famous soloist, katsuki bakugou, had offered to be your accompanist, and begged for an autograph. of course, you declined.)
you figured that like you, bakugou was a soloist. he wasn't fit to assist your playing, far more suited to his own solos to entrance the audience with only his playing. being a soloist, he played like one too - that's simply how things worked. this understanding of him, though, still couldn't stop you from harbouring a small grudge against him for ruining your international debut.
and then there was the man himself, all standoffish and rough in words and persona. obscenities had no hesitation coming (thrust!) from his mouth. he yelled brashly and frequently and it astonished you that he was a classical musician, as most of your friends of the classical music profession were typically on the quiet, softer spoken side. those that were extroverts were optimistically so, in far contrast to bakugou, who you'd expect from looks alone to be playing in some heavy metal band. it was scary to hear his renditions of debussy's dreamy, serendipitous pieces when over your earbuds, he was yelling at some guy named "shitty hair" on his phone. you were curious how he looked recording the piece.
you didn't typically communicate, though. conversation, which only ever existed during rehearsal, was a question from you and a clipped grunt in response. there was nothing else to your relation; he played his part, and you played yours. sometimes you did this simultaneously, but it was as if you were playing two completely different things. performance, according to your friends, was now stilted. this was partially the reason you stopped listening to recorded performances. it wasn’t even like you’d ever derived pleasure from listening to them - you only nitpicked your mistakes.
your old accompanist, momo, on the other hand, was an absolute angel. she was kind, polite, and skilled on the piano, fingers dancing over the keys like a graceful ballet. you fit well with her; each performance was like a delightful conversation between friends, pleasant on the ears and twinkling with joy and laughter. with her, every performance felt like something resembling victory, even if it wasn’t a competition. to you, winning the audience’s gaze was enough. 
then again, you didn't feel that you could judge quite yet. momo was your accompanist for years, and you could barely remember how the two of you sounded when you first started out. bakugou had been your accompanist for mere months (though it did feel much, much longer considering how frustrating he could be). you couldn't understand why he became your accompanist at all. 
opposites. it was an accurate representation of your relationship with bakugou. he was a pianist, you weren't. he was a prodigy, you weren't. he was blessed with talent, you weren't. there was nothing to talk to him about, obviously, because of these dividing factors.
the longer you knew him, the more your disdain for the man grew. at rehearsals, it always felt like your performances were about him, him, and him. he was the star piano player, of course. he hadn't volunteered to be your accompanist as a sense of "stepping down"; no, no, rather, he was flaunting his piano playing with a violin playing in the background. he played perfectly. for a soloist.
as time passed, these frustrations with him became more and more apparent. you became acutely aware of how his performance would outshine your own, and it sickened you. slowly, the quality of your own performances took a nosedive. if the piece was originally pianissimo, you'd take it up to piano (then, if bakugou increased his volume, forte). if the tempo was andante and he was playing moderato, you'd play allegro. it was a competition at this point - instigated by him, of course. you were just upping the ante, even if it meant sacrificing your own artistry.
a lot of people warned you of what would happen, but you ignored them. the fierce competition you felt between you and bakugou caused your own downfall as a musician. slowly, gigs stopped trickling in, like a faucet being shut off. you blamed this on bakugou. ("i was international before him. now, i can barely get a gig in musutafu! why does everyone think he's so great?" you had fumed over the phone to jirou, your old roommate from university. she asked you if you had even listened to him play.)
you were scrambling for places to perform at this point. (“fire him,” the very unhelpful hagakure told you. you didn’t know what you were thinking when you asked her, a violist in a local orchestra. it wasn’t like she ever got a solo.) you’d seriously considered doing so, but came up empty when looking for another accompanist. online forums and friends’ connections could only do so much. they were all either unavailable during rehearsal schedules or inadequate in terms of adapting to the music given. 
“you need to try working together with him,” jirou advised you one day over the phone. 
“yeah, say that to yourself and kaminari,” you muttered bitterly under your breath. kaminari was a guitarist in jirou’s band who hadn’t quite gotten along with jirou well. jirou made fun of the lightning bolt streak in his hair. when you first met them, all they did was bicker day and night; now, according to the other guitarist, tokoyami, they still did this, though on a smaller scale. 
she heard you. “well,” jirou said, slightly ticked off, “we get along better now. because of communication. look- i’m not saying you need to be best friends with bakugou or anything, but you need to talk to him about what’s working and what’s not. respect him as another musician, y’know?” 
“i’ll… try,” you said begrudgingly. 
you heard a muffled yell from the other side of the call. “kaminari, you idiot!” jirou called, voice a bit far. “what did i tell you about plugging in the amp? i said not to-” she cut herself off. “sorry, y/n, i need to go now. kaminari’s back to his normal antics.” she sighed, but it sounded more endeared than irritated. the call ended. 
respect bakugou as another musician. you could do that. bakugou was only a pianist. you were a violinist. he was your accompanist. he was to support your playing. you’d forever be separated from him, doing your own thing. he, certainly, couldn’t understand the woes of being a violinist. not the intonation nor the techniques; you were sure that if you handed him a violin on the spot, he wouldn’t be able to even hold the bow properly. the notion of bakugou, piano prodigy, struggling to make a decent sound on the violin with a bow clenched in an ungainly grip deeply amused you. 
these thoughts kept your relationship with bakugou afloat and restrained you from strangling him every time he stepped a toe out of line during rehearsals. ploddingly, with as minimal communication as you could manage, you tried to play with bakugou together, as a duet rather than as two soloists playing simultaneously. you swallowed your pride to play accurately to the music, patiently explaining any qualms you had with bakugou’s playing. 
eventually, you found yourself building up your performances to the quality they had once been with momo. it was still far from the pristine playing that led you to an international invite - but it was an improvement, and that was all that mattered to you. innately, you were slightly ashamed of the thoughts that allowed you to keep working with bakugou. they were thoughts that told of your superiority to him, because he was playing piano for you. that’s all he was; an accompaniment to you. you told yourself that having these thoughts on the inside was better than fighting with bakugou. 
somehow, along the strings of notes slurred together and shifts of fingers from one spot on a string to the next, you found yourself experiencing a strange joy gliding your bow against the strings of your violin. the rich sound of your instrument, withering and blooming with every stroke of vibrato you performed, fulfilled you unlike how it ever had before. up until now, you’d been playing for the audience, rather than yourself. the melody reverberating in the hollow body of your violin was never for your own ears to enjoy, it was for the audience’s satisfaction and listening pleasure. for it was their own enjoyment that won you competition after competition, playing with a blank face. on some occasions, you’d open your eyes during the applause to see some audience members crying, which ultimately confused you. how you were able to draw emotions from them with your playing when the music was unable to render you anything but indifferent? 
you knew it in yourself, though, that the happiness you felt was hollow. delightful notes supposed to boast joy and love echoed in the rehearsal room, falling flat on your ears.
you were a soloist, though. you couldn’t let thoughts like these get to you. you could only play, for both your pride and your audience. these woes were for you to shoulder, on top of the violin you held between your chin and collarbone. 
“you’re here early,” bakugou commented one day, opening the door to your shared rehearsal room. tucked under one arm was his folder of sheet music. he caught you in the middle of practicing one of the pieces for a gig - liebesfreud, by fritz kreisler. 
it was true. the morning sun basked the window sill and laminate flooring, warming the particular spots it shone through. you’d arrived an hour or so early. pleased by the bright nature of the morning, you pulled up the blinds. typically, you ran late, arriving ten minutes after bakugou’s text of “you’re late again, idiot” with a coffee and a bagel in your hands. those mornings, you were really grateful for having a case with backpack straps. if you hadn’t the time to eat your bagel on the way to rehearsal, it was cold and hard by the time you had a lunch break.
thankfully, today was not one of those days. whether it was the sun or the title of the piece (“love’s joy,” how wonderful), you’d woken up and decided that today, you’d have a warm and soft bagel for breakfast. you had a coupon for a free coffee and surprisingly, the commute to rehearsals was more punctual than usual. thus, you arrived an hour early, a smile on your face as you opened the door. you opened your case with extra care and rosined your bow with extra zest, humming a tune you heard playing on the radio. bakugou would’ve had a heart attack had he saw you then.
you ignored his entrance, only peeping one eye open at the man and nodding your head toward the piano as you continued on with the piece. you allowed yourself to become immersed in the music, following the soft pace bakugou set in his playing. closing your eyes, you saw the audience before you and felt your fingers sliding and pressing the strings. time flew while playing the piece; you’d barely noticed that the piece was nearing its end, playing its familiar melody one last time before opening your eyes. a glance at the rosin dusted in between the bridge and fingerboard of your violin satisfied you, like salt on caramel. you surely played just as sweet, smooth and saccharine like the gooey texture of a caramel confection. you relished in the sunlight streaming through into the room, ignoring the shuffling of papers behind you (from bakugou, no doubt). that was how you should play.
“something’s off,” you blearily opened your eyes to the sound of bakugou’s gruff voice. he was frowning, eyebrows furrowed in a not atypical manner. 
“what,” you said flatly. “it sounded fine to me. i didn’t mess up or anything.”
“no,” he replied, deep in thought, crimson eyes darkening a shade. “we don’t have proper… emotion in the music.”
“huh?” you felt a comical question mark rising out of your head. “i played it perfectly to score. it conveys the composer’s emotions to a t,” you said, getting annoyed with the pianist. your grip tightened on your violin’s neck.
“well- yeah,” he gritted his teeth. “but what about your emotions?”
“who cares about my emotions?” you said. “all that matters is that my playing is perfect. the audience feels the emotions, not me.” why else had you been plucked into violin lessons when you were five? surely not for your own enjoyment.
“idiot, that’s definitely not how it is.”
“it’s just violin playing!” you snapped. “it’s not complicated with- with emotions! it’s the same as anything else!”
“you’re wrong,” bakugou coldly answered.
“what would you understand?” you seethed. “you’re just a damn pianist. you follow my lead.”
he ignored your remarks. “why do you play a fucking instrument, then? why bother to enter competitions or recitals?”
“to win, like any other normal person!”
he let out a clipped, exasperated breath. “fuckin’ explains it, then.” he didn’t elaborate. dismissing the topic, he said, “whatever. play the piece from the top. actually try to look at me this time, so we can stay together. put more emphasis on the downbeat at the start.”
“it’s not like you even heard me play the beginning,” you retorted, but made sure to accent that note even more during the replay. pianists. they always were on their high horses.
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something you looked forward to every year was the valentine’s recital. the organizers, an old couple, had known you since you were a child, and thus developed a soft spot for you. you were a shoo-in for the event, relied on to learn the music on a short deadline. last year, you played preludio, from bach’s partita for violin no. 3. this year, though, the catch was weird.
“the letter says it’s a violin duet?” you said to jirou while video calling her. “i don’t have a violinist on hand, just a pianist. it’s not like bakugou can suddenly master violin.”
jirou looked at you with a surprised expression. “you don’t know?”
you stared back at her. “know what?”
“he plays violin, too.”
“huh?” you must’ve misheard her. 
she nodded. “he’s pretty good, too. have you not seen the videos?”
“videos?" your eyes widened as you soon realized the implications of bakugou harbouring an aptitude for violin. "i’ve… i’ve got to go.”
“he’s as good as you, y/n,” jirou said with a knowing smile. you were quick to press the hang up button. 
five seconds into teenage bakugou’s rendition of one of paganini’s caprices, you exited youtube.
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the next day, you kicked open the door to the practice room. 
“you,” you pointed a finger at bakugou, who sat at the piano midway through a piece. 
“what is it now, dumbass? you’re late again.”
“shut up,” you grumbled. “that’s beside the point. you- you play violin?!”
he shrugged, not avoiding your piercing gaze. “i’ve dabbled in it, yes.”
you shut the door behind you. “and why did you never tell me?!”
“tch. you never asked, did you?”
“you’re my accompanist, i should know these things!”
“you know i play piano, and that’s enough,” bakugou said stubbornly. “i only play piano with you.”
“not anymore.” setting your violin case down, you shuffled through the pocket that held your sheet music. flipping out a packet of sheet music, you thrust it in bakugou’s direction. “here.”
he grabbed the sheets from you, skimming the title. “duo for two violins in…. fuck,” he muttered. “why didn’t you just say no? who even is this from?”
“valentine’s recital. the pay’s good, bakugou, and we need it.”
“you need it,” he mumbled bitterly, holding the sheets out for you. “i don’t.”
“it’s not like i’m happy about it either. since when were you a violinist?”
“since when was it any of your damn business?”
"you're supposed to be my pianist! not anything else!"
you didn’t understand how he could be so musically inclined. you blinked, and your sight smeared, blurring the sight of your feet with the laminate flooring. this wasn't right, you thought as you felt a telltale heat creeping up you. why were you crying now? 
if there was one thing you prided yourself on, it was your violin playing. it seemed to be the only thing you were good at as a child when academics and athletics failed you. sure, you hated it at first (as most children did when their parents forced them to do something), but as time went on, the applause of the audience and the title of "winner" rewarded you enough. you were no prodigy, so you worked endlessly every day to prove yourself worthy. you never understood how you'd worked so hard only to be in the shadows of others so naturally gifted who surely would never understand how much you practiced to become better.
when it came to bakugou, he was never supposed to be better. he was your pianist, talented in a completely different musical realm than your own, so he could never be superior to you - and now he wasn't. he never was. here you were for the past year or so, looking like a fool in bakugou's eyes. on the days you struggled so hard with fourth finger vibrato, he was probably laughing at your inadequacy at violin. as easily as he played the violin, katsuki bakugou played you like a fool.
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everything collided when you stepped out of the room, leaving a particular golden haired boy alone to stare at the sheet music you tossed him. your head throbbed with the groggy sensation of almost-tears and anger coursed through your veins.
you couldn't back out of the recital now. you couldn't. 
you couldn't stand to look back into the vermillion eyes of katsuki bakugou now. even more so now, you couldn't.
your solution?
"hey, what's up?" jirou's collected voice filled your ear, your phone pressed to it. 
"hey, kyo, i… kind of did a bad thing," you said, feeling jittery as you sought a commute home. you'd already made up your mind that your sorry-ass wouldn't be able to look bakugou back in the face for the rest of the day.
"...again?" she asked, tone concealing a hint of surprise. "don't tell me it was with bakugou. don't you usually practice now?"
"...usually, yes…" you sheepishly shuffled your feet, standing outside on the sidewalk. "i'll be resuming it again, 'course, when i get home…"
"why aren't you with bakugou right now?"
"that's… that's a long story," you laughed nervously. 
"i can wait," jirou coolly replied. "kaminari got his foot stuck in his guitar case - don't ask - so i have time." 
you considered asking about kaminari, then thought better of it.
"you know about the valentine's day recital they have every year? well, this year…" you recounted the events that led you to now, standing outside on the phone with jirou.
"where are you going to find a violinist?"
a silence found itself opportune as jirou waited for an answer. "i'm, uh, not…?" you said, deflecting the question back to jirou.
"well, you can't play both parts in the duet, can you? actually, don't answer that. i know you'd try. didn't you try that one time in-"
"what's done in uni stays in uni," you hushed her before she could recall that one time you tried to play a sonata with a recording of yourself. "aren't you going to tell me to try to make amends with bakugou?" 
"no," she said thoughtfully after a pause. "you've tried before, and it's not working for you. i don't think you should be forced to do something you obviously don't want to do. i just think," she continued, "you need to find someone to do the duet with, if you don't want to work with bakugou. but objectively, he's your best bet."
as jirou always was, she was right. you thanked her for her advice not before hearing a distraught kaminari shouting for jirou in the background, and then she ended the call.
you repeated her words in your head once you got home, sliding your bow back and forth on your small block of worn rosin. the score for the duet was spread next to you on the floor. it wasn't that you didn't want to work with bakugou. or was it? had you been that selfish all along, sabotaging other performances because you didn't like him? if even jirou had noticed it, had bakugou noticed it too? 
your sigh let out a thousand burdens piled up in your mind, blowing air out like dust accumulating on your tribulations. you picked up your violin and bow thoughtlessly, testing out the strings and plucking a couple with your left hand. 
was it really only you with the contempt for working with bakugou? you'd assumed mutual hatred with him after your international debut, but had it really been so? had you been the only one picking fights during the time you'd worked together? as you backtracked, your fingers slipped into a familiar position. you began a piece you knew positively by heart, an absolute favorite of yours for years. you played mindlessly, serenading yourself with familiar notes and string fingerings as you thought long and hard about bakugou. how much shit had you given bakugou? he hardly complained, too, but why? why hadn't he quit after you'd been so ceaselessly difficult with him?
why were you so angry at bakugou, a gifted prodigy since childhood? the answer found itself as the composition descended into an array of complicated fingerings and string changes, sounding like an incoherent chaos somehow strung together by the music. you pretended you didn't know the answer.
it was much, much easier to leave bakugou as just a pianist. respectable in his own field, and incomparable to you. it was too good to be true, obviously. all your life, you played to win, and couldn't allow anyone else to surpass you. violin was about winning, winning, winning. how were you supposed to cope when all those hours of practice were easily overcome by someone with innate talent?
the piece eased your tension with a fermata, drawing out your vibrato to think. bakugou's perfection infuriated you, you concluded. knowing this, though, didn't help with anything. you almost screeched the last note as the composition came to an end, unsettled by thoughts of bakugou. you really couldn't stand him.
in an attempt to distract yourself from your dilemma, you decided to start practicing the recital composition. you pulled out an old portable music stand, bending the parts into place and stacking it up. carefully, you placed the sheets on the stand and skimmed over the music, bringing your violin up to your collarbone.
your eyes followed one measure ahead of what you were playing as you sight-read the piece. ahead, ahead, was all you could think as your fingers fumbled the notes, eyes moving from the score to the fingerboard. bakugou was far from your mind as you caught up to the music, too preoccupied with the sharps and flats you'd forgotten and the time you had to keep. you were busied by the shifts and the repeat signs in the music over anything else. your priority lay here for the time being, after all. the sight-reading was almost enough to make you forget you only play one half to a duet. there was still still an emptiness that lurked between the rests and the redundant beats that even your stilted practice couldn't mask. you tried not to worry about that, though. 
time floated by as you repeated the piece over and over, playing for accuracy first. it wasn't enough, but you pretended it was. the metronome on your phone ticked away like time, endless and impatient, until you couldn't stand it anymore and packed away your violin. 
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the proceeding day was filled with more of the same practicing, working on tweaking hesitations and polishing up your playing. it was kind of convenient, practicing at home rather than waking up early to practice with bakugou. you missed the bagel the most. 
you were definitely not playing your best, and it was clear by the way your bow occasionally screeched and how you fumbled the fingerings when you were particularly negligent. the piece just didn't sound right without the second part. (bakugou was definitely not the second part missing. not at all.)
by the third day you gave up and admitted to yourself that yes, bakugou was the second part missing. you were only a little bit miserable buying your usual bagel and coffee and rushing to rehearsals fifteen minutes late, aware that you'd be unable to eat it before practice. you were substantially less miserable than how you were the day previous, practicing alone.
you weren't surprised to see bakugou already there, sitting on the piano bench and tightening his bow hairs. he acknowledged you with a grunt as you set down your breakfast and beverage. 
"showed up, huh?" he said finally, voice rough. he stood up, setting his sheet music on a stand. you stared at him, awed by his nonchalance. he picked up his violin and bow (which, by the way, looked super expensive) and propped his violin up by his chin. it felt so foreign to see him in position to play violin, fingers already expertly in first position and wrist beautifully curved, yet it inexplicably clicked. the scene in front of you looked like he'd done this everyday, as it was always supposed to have been, his back confidently straight. his fingers arched over the fingerboard and his bow appeared mathematically parallel to the bridge, held delicately between his fingers. you'd never carefully watched him play piano (probably due to your distaste to him and lack of knowledge about the percussion instrument), but he made the violin look like an instrument of the gods. he hesitated, though, bow moving a centimeter then back. he frowned at your idle silence and turned back to you. "well? are we doing this duet or not?" 
"oh," you reacted intelligently. "yeah. yeah." it kicked in what you were doing by the time you'd started tuning your violin, first bowing your a string. after tuning your violin (with the help of a tuning fork and none from the perfect-pitched bastard bakugou, who appeared to be watching you with a triumphant gleam in his eyes as you struggled to tune your violin properly), you set your sheet music next to bakugou's.
"ready?" you asked, as if you'd been the one waiting for bakugou all this time.
"ask yourself that," he snorted. "i'll do the count." 
you nodded.
"one, two, three, f-"
"wait, wait," you said, squinting at your music. "isn't it supposed to be a bit slower than that?"
"it says allegro," bakugou said, tapping his foot. "need an italian lesson? lively, briskly."
"i know what allegro means," you gritted. "seems too fast, when paired with dolce."
"maybe for you," he smirked.
you narrowed your eyes at him. "and that means what, exactly?"
he opened his mouth to reply some smug, smart-ass answer, but you stopped him. 
"nevermind," you said. "do the count again, at the same tempo. i can do it."
you were bluffing, of course. since when was allegro this fast? you wondered as the opening notes sped by you in a musical blur. already familiar with the melody, you messed up dynamics the most. of crescendos and diminuendos? it wasn't like bakugou would notice, too preoccupied with his part.
the ending of the piece took your breath away, storming toward you in a whirlwind. adrenaline filled your veins as you raced to the last measure of the music, overcome by the tempo and the music. this time, full of energy and exhilaration, the piece felt complete. your and bakugou's sound surrounded the two of you, overflowing the room with a saccharine melody. it felt right simply standing beside him playing a two part piece, chest heaving from the piece's energy. you could only hear your breathing, a gentle encore to your playing.
"your playing is sloppy," bakugou said bluntly. he leaned over to your sheet music, starting to point at dynamic markings.
you swatted his hand away before he could say a word. "yeah, well, i just got the music three days ago," you interjected.
"you also had two of the three days off, so i'd say you're not doing enough." he glanced back down at your score. he pointed at a measure. "this is a crescendo, moron, why didn't you get much louder?"
"just- pay attention to your own music!" you said. "besides, it's dolce. i can get away with playing softer."
"that wasn't very dolce to me," he argued. "nothing sweet, soft, or gentle about that," he mumbled.
"i can be sweet, soft, and gentle if i want to!" you retorted. 
he raised a brow, as if a challenge, scarlet eyes glinting in the light. "tch. i'm sure you can, but your playing damn can't."
“it can, too! listen,” you said, impetuously raising your violin and bow again. you slowly started to play a d major scale, impatiently scrunching your nose and squeezing your eyes shut to concentrate on making the music soft and gentle, tampering with different degrees of vibrato and bow pressure.
“... that’s just piano,” bakugou said, moving to you as you bowed an a. your bow came to an abrupt halt, making an unpleasant squeal, as bakugou positioned himself behind you. you felt his body warmth radiating behind you as a sweet, homely scent wafted around you. he brought his arms around you, hands overlapping where you held your violin and bow.
“you need to be,” he murmured into your ear, gentle tone almost slurring the words together, "fragile when you play dolce." he angled your bow slightly, moving your hand. "bow closer to the fingerboard." the smooth baritone of his voice resonated within you, becoming lost within the violinist's embrace.
"most of all," he said, dropping an octave to an intimate tone, "you need to feel it. you can attempt to play it, but without feeling, it's fuckin’ meaningless."
"feeling?" you repeated blankly. “the audience’s, you mean.”
he stepped away, a gesture that made you breathless, and shook his head. he crossed his arms over his chest, unintentionally accentuating their volume. “your damn feelings. what do you feel when playing the piece?”
there’s a pause for perhaps a second too long, as you mulled over different answers in your head.
“tch.” his eyes don’t leave you, gaze a laser burning into you. “‘s what i thought. why do you play violin?”
you held your tongue from answering my parents. “to win. i play to win,” you stated.
“and that’s the damn problem,” bakugou said, releasing a breath of frustrated air. “you win to play.”
“that means…?” you were starting to get impatient with the man, who seemed to be stalling and dragging out your limited time. 
“you win competitions to play more.” 
you almost scoffed, but his words were plausible. “what’s the purpose in playing more if not to win?”
he made a scratching noise in his throat, cool demeanor shifting to that of the bakugou you knew. “l-l-” he coughed, “love.”
“love?” you repeated, the word a surprise to swallow.
he nodded, gagging on his reply. you couldn’t see bakugou as the romantic type - the same bakugou who called all of his friends demeaning nicknames and could barely say the word love out loud. he was explosive, maybe, and talented, sure - but acquainted with love? you pursed your lips at the stuttering man trying to advise you.
“whatever,” he dismissed, voice oddly hoarse. “just play it from the top. fix the dynamics.”
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weeks passed in a blur, though bakugou’s advice was left unforgotten. it had, for the most part, faded from your mind but lingered like a ghost in an abandoned attic, stirring up dust in complete silence. it was valid criticism on bakugou’s part, but the problem was that it was criticism you couldn’t digest. it was a ghost that you could not rid of, whispering and lurking until your music played over it. 
four weeks before the performance, you had the piece almost entirely memorized other than a few flukes here and there. you managed most of your dynamics, playing in sync with bakugou by your side. three weeks and the piece was mostly smooth, foregoing all sheet music and practicing in the middle of the room with bakugou tapping out the tempo on the honeyed floor. any mistakes were recovered from quickly, and you were pleased to say that the amount of bakugou’s slip-ups equated to yours. at two weeks, though, he brought up the pest bugging your mind. 
“play with more emotion,” he sighed exasperatedly, letting out a huff as you played for him. “start on f sharp again.”
you’d tried time and time again, but the longer you’d replayed the same few measures (followed by his criticism for the nth time), the only emotion you felt was frustration. your bow would push too hard or your vibrato would lay on thick, immensely irritating bakugou. you didn’t know why he even tried. 
the air felt stale and the lights shone obnoxiously bright. the pads of your left hand fingers had hardened by now, indented with a pair of parallel lines from your unforgiving violin strings. you inhaled rosin dust and occasional bow hairs miserably dropped to the floor. your arms were tired, sore, and sick of playing; your ears painfully endured the same tune again and again, the originally fluid and sweet notes becoming high frequency static. 
“i can’t do this.” you were tempted to flop onto the ground, hopelessness pouring over you.
“you can,” bakugou insisted stubbornly. “you just need to try harder.”
“harder?” you would’ve snapped (and you were surprised your e string didn’t already by the repetitive motions on it) if you weren’t so exhausted from rehearsing. 
he nodded like it was obvious. “try harder.”
you shakily inhaled, trying to smooth your voice over. “i’m sorry i can’t be a prodigy like you.”
he stiffened, tense to the point of trembling. “whatever,” and it was a strained word pulled from his mouth. it was very atypical for him to give up like this, but you didn't care. you avoided his eyes as you restarted the piece, unable to bloom anything from it.
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outside of your rehearsal time, you practiced. arguably, your solo rehearsals were more rigorous. you forced yourself to add emotion to the piece, sometimes playing for jirou. she agreed with bakugou (though was a great deal less irritating), stating that your playing was somewhat hollow. (you restrained yourself from knocking on the instrument and saying that yes, indeed, violins were hollow.)
"how… how do you get any emotions from playing?" you asked jirou at one point, watching one of her band's rehearsals. they were on a break, chatting idly and taking sips from their water bottles.
“well…” jirou started, glancing back at her band members. “i think about the feelings i want the audience to feel because of my songs. i think about how the song makes me feel, then i put that into how i play.”
“how do you…” you shifted uncomfortably, “know what to feel?”
she looked at you, taken aback, but replied easily. “you don’t. it just… happens.”
her response was vastly different than what you’d been taught a child. emotions? sure, there was perhaps a time where playing evoked a feeling in you, plucked something melodical from your heartstrings. it was when you were a child, though, so it was irrational and erratic, an outburst in the middle of your otherwise level playing. your violin teacher didn’t approve when you’d follow how the music made you feel. she said it made you stray too far from the original piece and would make you lose competitions. no matter how you pushed back against her, her advice haunted you over and over every time you got anything other than first place. 
your performance is the audience, she’d told you. you didn’t understand what she meant at first, but she made sure you did while practicing for your next rehearsals. the audience, she quipped with thin lips under her sharp eyes, is everything. if the audience wasn’t satisfied, your performance was worthless, no matter how well you played technically. you play for them and you win - it was that plain. there was nothing more than you wanted but to win, at the time. you wanted a trophy, a medal, a certificate stating that you were better than most. it was palpable evidence that you were good enough - for your parents, your peers, anyone. like that, you practiced, a servant for approval. you weren’t a prodigy, but you sure as hell would try to play like one. her advice worked for over a decade, soundly racking you up with countless awards that filled your otherwise desolate self-esteem.
you didn’t say anything else to jirou about it, instead thinking about the bits and pieces of human feeling you could extract in between your piece’s accidentals and eighth notes. perhaps there was a possibility, through the phrases of notes and dynamic markings, you’d find a word that said love. a renewed interest sparked itself when jirou’s band continued their rehearsals, finding yourself to be a normal audience member (maybe even crying at the end. maybe).
you returned home to practice, practice, practice, coercing any hidden message in the music to vibrate in your violin and echo around your room. you watched other renditions of the piece to find something you were missing, but imitating them didn’t seem right. this continued for the following weeks, hiding any potential development from bakugou (or trying to, at least). you knew you’d be disappointing him if you failed after trying so hard. it was only safe to play what you knew, secure in the written parts of the composition and keeping it at that. 
by the time the performance came around, you were glad bakugou never found out about your secret efforts. if he had, you knew he’d be sorely dispirited by your lack of tangible progress, your sound just as hollow as the soundbox of your violin. you failed, you knew, and as crestfallen as you were on that cold february morning, the show must go on.
the performances were held in an auditorium, warm compared to the snowy wonderland outside. it was typically couples comprising the audience, all romantic and pepped up in the spirit of valentine's day (white day was no different). some arrived early, finding seats in the empty auditorium and chatting amongst themselves (or sometimes making out, which made you want to throw your violin at them and gag). bakugou’s and your performance was last; it quite the heavy honor to play the finale to the recital. 
backstage was a vast contrast to the hushed atmosphere settled over the assemblage. hovering over the staff and performers for the day was a sense of panic, hurry, and hecticness. bits of rosin were scattered on the ground where you prepared for your rehearsal, some belonging to your block and others not. your pack of extra strings lay next to you on the sofa you sat on, arm resting on the side of the seat. similar to your violin's strings, spun tightly over pegs to be kept in place, you felt high-strung. the buzz of energetic excitement flitted in your head, knee bumping up and down and jerking your violin in the same motion. it was hard to calm when you tuned your violin to absolute perfection, relying on bakugou's perfect pitch to do so. the fine tuners on the end of your strings probably hadn't had a harder time in the years you'd owned your violin.
"you're shaking the entire sofa, idiot," bakugou deadpanned next to you. “some of us are trying to rosin our bow, unlike you.” he glanced at the floor, where amber shards of rosin lay amidst white dust (also made of rosin). 
“to be fair, most of those aren’t mine,” you pointed out. you reached into your violin case, finding the rectangular case of rosin and opening the top. "mine's only chipped in a couple corners, and the rest is just worn on the edges from my bow."
you leaned over to look at bakugou's rosin, two stubs in its case. "and i'm the one dropping my rosin?"
his ears turned a deep red, matching the velvet curtains on stage. "that's different," he muttered, putting the lid on his rosin and putting it away. 
"you ready?" you watched him swallow before speaking, not looking at you. you could hear one of the presenters speaking, introducing the first piece to be played (an ever-so romantic rendition of clair de lune), but the voices felt distant and muffled over the sound of your own nervous heart beating.
"yeah," he replied. he turned to look at you, scarlet eyes meeting your own. "what, you're not scared now, are you, dumbass?"
you gulped. "no… just excited," you said. in truth, you felt disappointed in yourself for being unable to find any emotion in your playing - thinking about the piece, you were devoid of anything but the measures and the notes. what was the piece trying to say in the white space between staff lines? after the clef at the beginning of the music, where did the emotions start and everything else end?
quiet notes, twinkling from the piano on stage, met your ears. you took a deep breath. how did they make you feel? 
…not very good, because this pianist was certainly a beat or two off tempo. a large hand on your knee startled you out of your trance. its warmth was surprisingly comforting. you followed the arm connecting to the hand to meet bakugou's concentrated face, eyebrows furrowed and nose scrunched. 
"don't shake your knee like that. also, why are you so damn cold?" he moved his hand away, leaving an imprint of heat on your knee. you hadn't noticed the physical manifestation of your nerves prior to bakugou's words.
you left his question unanswered, staring at your violin in your lap. you traced the patterns in wood, fingers following the shape of the f-hole and thumbing circles on your chin rest. how were you supposed to be able to pull living, breathing life in the form of emotions from an inanimate object? what sorcery were you supposed to manage to satisfy yourself and the audience?
you thought back to bakugou's words. what was it had he said you were supposed to be playing for? love, the irrational and sentimental flaw of life - somehow expressed from the symbols on a sheet of paper and through strings on hollow wood. what sort of miracle was bakugou creating with his music?
what was violin, if not just a task to do everyday? what was it, out of competitions and tests of skill? what was the sound reverberating within its vacant body, recording every shift of fingers on the fingerboard?
you looked past your violin to the rosin on the floor. friction, your violin teacher had explained to you. you put rosin on your bow so it creates friction with the strings, and thus creates sound. it was strange how friction caused the smooth sound of a violin. too much friction, added by pressure on the bow, made a creaky sound on the strings. without rosin, the bow would be too smooth on the string and make no noise at all. the happy medium of not too much and not too little created the familiar rich tone on the strings.  
a happy medium, you mused. in between too much friction and none at all. maybe that was how you were supposed to feel, in between trying too hard and not trying at all. that's what feelings were in the end, right? a natural human instinct, spurred by life. could you breathe life into the music?
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the stage seemed almost too big for the two of you, spotlights centering you on the wide, wooden platform. the crowd's eyes were on you and your fellow violinist, some watching with drooping eyelids. they felt far, distant under the shadows. even so, the question still besieged you - would you please them?
you teared your eyes away to bakugou, who started the count. everything was silent until he nodded to you, your cue to start the piece. it felt too fast when you began but it was the same allegro you’d been practicing with. muscle memory took control now, your fingers finding their places easily. 
your fingers and bow took all your attention. everything else fell away - the lights, the crowd, the stage - until it was just you, your violin, and the music. you could practically see the score in your head, playing the notes you'd come to know so well. 
you heard your music echo and resound off the walls, but that's all it seemed to do. it touched everyone in the room, looking for a place to stay, and diminished in an empty space alone. it frustrated you that it wouldn't resonate - where was the love bakugou had so told you of? this auditorium was no different than your room, where sounds bounced off walls and landed nowhere. you weren't reaching anywhere or anyone, lacking emotion and any true substance. 
love - what was love if not a hindrance? how could bakugou expect so much out of you? love - had you ever felt it for the violin? dolce told you to play sweetly, softly, and gently, but what was sweet about the violin? what was so sweet about the imprints of strings on your fingers, fragmented rosin at your feet, and bruises on your neck from long hours of practice? what was gentle about the arduous replaying of the same measure, the ringing in your ears after playing to master a simple phrase? what was soft about the forte that rang in your head, the fortissimo that filled a performance and clouded your senses?
dolce filled you like an epiphany, euphoric in your eyes that finally opened and awakened. dolce was in bakugou's eyes, soft velvet like the crimson curtains onstage, downcast at his violin. dolce was in his sound as his bow skittered near the fingerboard, in his fingers sliding back and forth on his a string. dolce was in his grasp of his bow and violin, in the very essence he played the violin with. dolce contradicted everything you knew, reminding you of bakugou's soft hands over yours, guiding your fingers and bow. dolce was the morning light streaming into the practice room as you argued with bakugou over tempos and notes, the light glinting on shattered shards of rosin as you anxiously rosined your bow. dolce was the curve of your violin scroll, the bend of your fingers over your bow's frog. dolce was the white space in between staff lines on your sheet music and through half and whole notes. dolce was everything in between the rough of your violin experience, the laughter and smiling gone forgotten during sleepless practice sessions and violin evaluations.
what was dolce, if not a rebellion? what was it, if not a rebellion from the years of work and pain you'd endured in the name of musicality? what was it, if not laughing in the face of your violin instructors and the strict score you adhered to? 
when you opened your eyes to meet bakugou's, whose carmine eyes dripped with a burning passion and the essence of souls, you finally felt. it was the so-sought over love, scorching every note and stroke of your bow and bursting life in every movement, breath, and echo of your performance. it was exhilarating, living through every slur and chord you played. when you finally met his eyes he understood, a satisfied smile tugging on his lips as his gaze never left yours. this was it - this was dolce, humming sweetly, softly, and gently in your ears and reflecting in the audience's heart. this was dolce, making you realize that you never wanted to play violin alone again.
you picked up a rose that had landed at your feet at the end of your piece, holding it next to bakugou's confused face. in doing so, you reached your second epiphany of the day - perhaps the more important of the two. bakugou's eyes bloomed redder than the rose, deeper than the lowest note on a double bass, and maybe it was he that was the true dolce you were looking for.
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notes!!
if you’re reading this, congrats !! this is my longest fic on my account (the record will be broken soon), so i really appreciate you reading this :> (spare a reblog, perhaps?)
first, explaining the playlist:
beethoven’s kreutzer - this was played in the anime, “your lie in april,” and i simply think it fits the “fight” reader and bakugou have. this was played at reader’s first international recital that did not go so well.
kreisler’s liebesfreud (love’s joy) is in the same series as his piece called liebesleid (love’s sorrow), also featured in “your lie in april.” i personally really like the piece. of all of these listed, i think you should listen to this one the most.
beriot’s duo concertante was the other contender for reader and bakugou’s duet piece! 
debussy’s clair de lune is simply a favorite of mine. it’s the first piece played at the valentine’s performance (and i like to imagine reader’s listened to bakugou’s recording of the piece)
spohr’s duo for 2 violins is the piece reader and bakugou play! it’s the second part of the duo in allegro, and i once tried to listen to it while following the sheet music. i was so confused every time i did so; i’d get lost and such, and figured my musicality was declining. nope. i was reading the wrong part. so, i started freaking out because oh god the dolce is in the first part, not the second, and thankfully, there’s a bit of dolce in the second part too! however, it did take me a while to decide whether to use the first part instead.
also, spohr invented the chinrest on the violin! crazy :D
paginini’s 24th caprice is considered the hardest out of all 24 caprices. imagine,,, teenage bakugou playing this,,, doing the left hand pizz and all T^T pain
there’s a lot i wish i could cover in this! a lot of reader’s own flaws (ahem, viola jokes) and development were something i couldn’t cover. bakugou’s arc as well! he had an arc a bit before this story takes place :)) tl;dr i’m very tempted to pick my violin up again and start playing
the frog of the bow does not, sadly, go ribbit. it’s the part violinists hold the bow by!
thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed this :)
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192 notes · View notes
wakaoujisenhime · 4 years
Note
200 event! :D A scenario for Bakugo x reader x Kirishima poly. What if their fem s/o takes a hard hit to save a child jumping in front of a blow from an enemy? The injury nearly kills her but in the end she survives, and fully recovers. How would they react to this? (I actually requested something almost exactly like this once for Hashirama, Tobirama, and Minato awhile back. Now I’d like to see it done for these two.) And congratulations on 200! You are amazing and deserve it! 🥰
A/N: Thank you for trusting me with this, I hope you’ll like it! Also...that’s actually quite the cute scenario for these three Hokages 👀 Enjoy! 
Tags: Bakugou x reader x Kirishima ✅  poly relationship ✅  fluff ✅  slight angst ✅
━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆
More than you can imagine - Bakugou x reader x Kirishima
What were you thinking when you jumped in front of that small child?
Your team had been sent out to evacuate the area while the present pro heroes handled the threat and everything seemed to go just as you had planned it, but that’s when a giant villain caught your attention. He was towering in front of a small child who tried to save their parental figure from some ruble that had injured their leg. You watched in horror as the adult tried to warn and prompt their child to run away, but seeing how hard that young person continued to struggle motivated you. And before you noticed it, you were already running in their direction, ignoring the two screaming voices of your loved ones behind you, you sprinted for the small child who had finally realized the inescapable situation. Just as the villain was about to hit that small figure in front of him you jumped in between them and tried to reduce the attack’s damage with your own quirk’s impact, but the last thing you remember hearing before everything went black was two familiar voices calling your name.
After what seemed like a couple of minutes you slowly opened your eyes and were greeted by an entirely white room. You wanted to look around some more, but a sudden wave of pain halted any planned movement of yours. A silent groan escaped your mouth and that’s when you felt someone squeeze your left hand.
“(Y/N)...you’re finally awake.“ said a deep and tired voice.
“Katsuki? Is that you?“
As if to answer your question he stood up from his seat beside you and carefully leaned himself down to where your head was resting as he finally responded in his usual and cheeky tone: “Who else would it be dumbass?”
Even if he tried to sound like his usual self, you still managed to hear the slight worry and tremble in his voice, a realization that made you quite sad. You wanted to make sure that he was ok, but that’s when you finally remembered the incident with that small child.
“W-What happened to that child? A-And the parent..? Are t-they safe? Or what about t-the villain? Where is he?“
You were visibly panicking and thanks to the vital sign patient monitor next to your bed Bakugou was also able to see the evident rise in your heart rate, so he did what he always did in order to calm you down. His big hands took a hold of your cheeks, squeezing them lightly as he brought his forehead closer to yours until they eventually bumped into each other as he whispered: “It’s all been taken care of...calm yourself down.”
The familiar gesture of his made you smile and it indeed helped you calm down. He always did that when either you or Kirishima were freaking out, mad, or just upset in general and something about his method always helped you come down from your raging emotions.
Now that I think about it...where is Kirishima?
You once again began looking around, but thanks to the tight bandages on your neck your head only moved a couple of millimeters that really didn’t help much with your plan.
“If you’re looking for Kirishima then you really don’t have to worry...he’s sleeping right next to you.”
To prove his point he gently lifted your head up just enough so that you caught a glimpse of the red-haired young man sleeping on the right side of your bed while his hand had grasped your own right one. The peaceful sight of your normally energetic lover conjured a smile on your face which was then passed onto the blond young man who carefully returned you in your former lying state. Before the two of you continued your talk he quickly left the room to tell a nurse that you’ve regained consciousness.
While he was gone you listened to the light breathing of the sleeping man beside you and smiled to yourself. You gently squeezed his big hand and caressed the back of his palm with your thumb when his head suddenly shot up.
“Oh my god (Y/N), you’re finally awake! Baku-..Bakugou? Where is he? How could he miss this important moment?!”
Seeing him panic like that gave you quite the déjà vu and you couldn’t help but giggle at his reaction. Not wanting to keep him on tenterhooks you subsequently told him that the man in question had left to inform the hospital staff of your awakening. Relief spread across Kirishima’s facial features and he once again took a seat next to you as the both of you waiting for the others’ arrival.
The nurses finally arrived alongside your other boyfriend and after they asked you a couple of routine questions they finally moved on to a physical exam. A couple of minutes later they discussed something amongst each other while the three of you tensely waited for their estimation.
“Alright, then we have some news. Your body seems to have recovered almost completely, but we’d like to keep you here for at least another day or two to see how well you’d do without the bandages.”
You nodded understandably but for some reason, Bakugou seemed rather opposed to that idea, but instead of lashing out at them he, much to your surprise, remained quiet. Only when they had left the room he finally exploded and began screaming something about how they could have the audacity and why Kirishima and he couldn’t just take care of you at home. While you just stared at him in confusion the red-haired young man tried to calm him down so that they could explain everything to you.
“I still can’t believe that you could be that reckless! Just what were you thinking, you airhead?!”
Not even a minute had passed and the blond was already lecturing you and all you could do was remain silent and nod. From a fourth person’s viewpoint, it would seem pretty insensitive of the blond to scream at you like that, but this was simply his way of showing you that he genuinely cared and was worried for you. After he finished he simply stood up and went to your room’s windows, leaving the explanations to Kirishima who only giggled and then sat down on the small stool next to your bed.
“Well you see (Y/N) after that villain’s attack hit you, you immediately lost consciousness and well...your injury didn’t look mild at all so as panicked as the two of us were, one of the pro heroes took it upon themself to bring you to the hospital.” he paused and began to softly play with your fingers before continuing  “Baku-...the two of us were pretty upset that they didn’t allow us to take you to the hospital, but I guess that was their way of trying to distract us and even though it worked for a couple of hours, the moment we set foot here the doctors packed quite the punch with your condition...”
You noticed how his and Katsuki’s facial muscles immediately tensed up, their expressions growing grim at the unpleasant memory. Knowing them and their typical behavior patterns, you refrained from prying or even saying anything and just waited until one of them continued.
Kirishima told you how your entire torso’s bone structure had been literally smashed to pieces by the villain’s blow and that at first, the doctors weren’t that optimistic concerning your recovery. Bakugou didn’t like that attitude at all and had apparently made it clear by doing what he does best: screaming. Neither he nor the red-haired man next to you elaborated what they had said or done, but they had apparently pulled some strings and called Recovery Girl over to take a look at you. She of course agreed to help you, but she said that even with her quirk’s help it would be up to your body to do the rest, and as unsatisfying as that answer was, they had no other choice but to accept it. You had been bedridden for almost an entire month and the doctors had told your two lovers that you might actually be in a coma considering that you weren’t making any signs of waking up anytime soon. They were given an ultimatum until the end of the month. They had to decide whether they’d like to keep you hooked on all the necessary machines or turn them off...and their decision was due today.
“S-So if I hadn’t woken up today...then you two would’ve...?“
Kirishima looked at you with his big and glassy red eyes, nodding silently, but just when he opened his mouth to tell you something, Bakugou beat him to it.
“But you woke up, didn’t you?! That’s it, end of the story.“ he abruptly turned around, facing the two of you as he took a deep breath and continued “I’ll go and grab some apples from those nosy nurses, and by the time I’m back I don’t want to see those mopy expressions on you two, got that?!“
And with that statement he stormed off, leaving Kirishima and you alone.
“You know, just between the two of us...he was really worried about you, like really worried. He refused to go back home and insisted on sleeping here next to you and even though the nurses forbid him to enter your room for the first couple of days, he still came over with a folding chair and sat right outside of your door. They’d call me every night and lecture me about it, but somewhere deep inside of me I understood where he was coming from, so after they finally allowed visitors even I decided to join him and every single night or free day we had we were here...waiting for you to wake up.“
The imagination of the two of them always being beside you, sick with worry made you tear up a little and your lover noticed that. He gently wrapped his arms around you and softly caressed your slightly trembling body.
“The hell is this? I come back, hoping that you’d be grinning like idiots by now and what do I find? More ugly crying faces than before...god, you’re impossible.“
While the two of you cried in each other’s arms, the blond sat down and started cutting the apples he’d brought, listening to your sobby apologies and how you’d think before acting next time. You explain that at that moment it was as if your feet had moved on their own and at that familiar sentence Bakugou finally interrupted you.
“(Y/N), I get what you want to say, but what annoyed me the most was the fact that you didn’t react to our screaming back then. I am a hero who can fight in close combat as well as in a more distanced one and while you were running toward that child I was preparing my AP Shot. Kirishima and I wanted to warn you to get out of the way, but you didn’t listen. And if you think that I was the only one worried sick about your condition, then you better think twice, cause shitty hair over there cried himself to sleep every night, thinking that his stupid excuse of not getting enough sleep would work on me. You wanna know why he avoided visiting you every day? Cause it reminded him of his helpless self back then and the thought that he couldn’t protect you-“
“Ok I think that’s enough...let us stop talking about it, please.“
Both men looked at you, surprised that it was you who interrupted the blond’s line of thought. You wordlessly stretched your arms out and waited for them to wrap their arms around you and embrace you like always. It took a short while and a bit of persuasion until they had finally hugged you and the moment their muscular bodies were wrapped around your in comparison smaller one, you simply ruffled their hair, kissed both of their cheeks, and said: “I’m sorry you two, I know I’ve worried you and I’d like to apologize one last time. Thank you for not giving up on me...I love you.”
We love you too...more than you can imagine
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illyaana · 3 years
Note
Hey... Could you maybe... Could you make a oneshot consisting of Bakugou's older sibling reader (I'd prefer it to be gender neutral with a more masculine style, however you prefer) x Midnight? 🥺🥺 I love her so much and Horikoshi did her dirty. You can do whatever oneshot that you want/comes to mind, I just want something fluffy. Thank you UwU
Udk how much I squealed getting this as my first ask!
(also whoever you are you made my day/week/month (。・∀・)ノ゙)
I agree, Horikoshi did her dirty. She had some moments but that was IT. I tried my best, hope you like it!!
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(it's more of a you being a hero and being in a relationship with Nemuri rather than a one-shot surrounding your relationship, but there's a bunch of fluffy stuff at the end, so gehe-)
Tags: Midnight x Bakugo's Older Sibling! Reader, Binaural, Fluff, Minor Cursing, Mentions of Blood
Your Quirk: Liquid Maker - You conjure a liquid in your hands (smtg like sweat) when you want to and it can become anything. Name it, you got it hun <3
Synopsis: You are a hero (obviously gehe-) and you were catching some villains. Suddenly a huge explosion came from the middle of Musutafu and you headed straight to the crime scene.
Word Count: 2163
SFW Masterlist ◍ Navigation ◍ Requesting Guidelines ◍ Ask here!
You woke up to the sweet smell of smoke coming from the living room. Groaning, you got off your comfortable bed and raced to the living room to stop Bakugo from his daily antics.
"You really got to stop doing this in the morning, Katsuki," you told the younger male, "It's literally," you looked at the clock, "8 am in the morning and my half-asleep self could've gotten hurt stopping you from breaking all hell loose."
Katsuki scoffed while looking at you. "Why aren't you at work yet? As you said, it's already 8 am."
"Later shift today! I only start at around 10 am."
"Wow, aren't you lucky?" Katsuki said as he walked towards the stove, "I'm making pancakes, but I won't make even one for you until you go bathe. You look disgusting."
"Okay, okay." You say, raising your hands and rushing to the bathroom to get ready for the day.
After bathing, you head back into your room and began to wear your skin-tight hero suit.
You groaned slightly as you slowly pulled the form-fitting clothing up your body.
"I swear to God this isn't getting easier."
"You are literally a fatass, so I'm not surprised," you heard Katsuki scream from the kitchen, "I pity Midnight. The fact she needs to be around a literal piece of garbage who doesn't even look good."
"At least I have someone, unlike your childish ass."
"I am a child," he retorted.
You sigh as you open your room door and head back to the kitchen.
"One day, you're going to wish you were nicer to the people around you."
"Maybe," Katsuki said while passing you a plate with a stack of three pancakes, "...but I am pretty sure you aren't going to be one of them, judging by how much you baby me."
"But you are a child! Didn't you say so a few minutes ago?" you say as you pinch his cheeks, earning a growl from him, "Woah, calm down dog."
"Shut up and eat, fatass."
You chuckle at his words and proceed with the order given by your younger brother.
You loved getting later shifts on Fridays. These were the quieter days in the Bakugo household. Mom usually took her extra days off on Fridays like today, extending her weekend. Dad left for work earlier on Fridays but he'd always buy some spicy thing for Katsuki and you to have in the morning. Something to wish us a good day, I presume. And to top it all off, you and Katsuki would have these "sibling" moments, which mostly consisted of you annoying him to the point he'd lash out at you.
"You're a really good cook, Katsuki. These pancakes keep getting better!" you compliment the 10-year old.
And there it was: you entertainment of the day - Katsuki trying to say thank you but failing miserably thanks to his own pride as a "man".
"T-than- that's obvious, isn't it?" he ends, a blush present on his face, "I make pancakes every single time you have a later shift because you like it. If I'm getting better, that means you've been getting more later shifts. That means you've been slacking off, you stupid Pro Hero!"
"...how did you even get to that idea?"
After calming down a raging Katsuki, you put on your gear and head to the entrance of the house.
"Have a good day at school, Katsuki. Don't do anything you'd regret," you playfully warn him before leaving the house.
The streets of Musutafu were usually peaceful. Ever since All Might became the Symbol of Peace, the crime rates have dropped extensively. Yet, there are always one or two little naughty kids that wanted to play with their quirks - or in simpler terms, people who act like kids and try to do minor crimes using their quirks.
Using the liquid formed in your hands, you aimed at the legs of the two running males in black and wrap their legs together. Within a second, the liquid instantly formed into a rope and bounded their legs together, forcing them to fall face down.
"You both gave me a good morning run, thanks for that!" You say as you place two handcuffs around their wrists, "But you should seriously think about another hobby besides stealing."
From afar, you heard a loud boom coming from the middle of Musutafu.
In an instant, you formed another bunch of rope and tied the two males around their waist and pushed them to the corner of a building.
"Run away and you'll get more than just jail time," you say as you rush off to the scene.
The minute you reached the scene, your eyes widened in fear.
Endeavor was the reason behind the whole catastrophe here?
From behind, you felt a pair of soft hands touch your shoulder.
"I know what it looks like, but trust me it isn't," Nemuri started, "A villain that has a mind control quirk is controlling Endeavor from a distance. I've been trying to locate them, but no luck."
You smiled, looking at your girlfriend.
"You managed to get all of that in a few seconds?" you ask, amazed, "I got a good one, didn't I?"
You felt Midnight pinch you from behind.
"As much as I appreciate the compliment, now isn't the time to flirt with me," the female hero said.
You nod, washing away the playful smile.
"You get all the civilians out of here and contact the heroes through the network. I'll try to get him down and knock him out," you say. Nemuri nodded and began to gather the civilians away from the scene.
"Now," you turn to face the 2nd best hero, "How does one take down someone much, much more stronger than you?"
You slowly gathered your liquid in your palm, allowing the fluid to grow in volume.
"You defeating Endeavor would be a sight to behold, not going to lie here," the villain said through Endeavor, "But I am willing to test out that theory."
You lunged at the fire user while creating a fire-resistant rope to tie him down in your hand. In the other, you managed to conjure a Haladie sword - a sword you've trained with ever since your days in UA.
Using the sword, you managed to propel yourself above Endeavor and cut his back. Using the momentum you built, you used both your feet to hit the back of Endeavor's knees, forcing him to kneel.
You immediately stabbed his dominant hand, preventing him from reacting quickly.
With a snap, the Haladie sword transformed back into its liquid state and wrapped around his left hand.
"I was never planning on defeating Endeavor but merely securing him, dear villain of mine," you say as you transformed the liquid around his left hand into a quick-cancelling glove, "It’s one point for Y/N, right now. No point for little Mindy over here."
You began to build up more liquid in your hands to hopefully form another Haladie sword or at least a blade.
The controlled Endeavor began to get up slowly and turn to face you.
"I didn't peg you to be a dumb one, Y/N."
You felt a blade pierce through your stomach.
A civilian sobbed as they pressed the blade deeper into your body, your blood dripping onto their office coat.
"I can't believe you let your guard down so easily. It was your fault to assume I could only control one person at a time, little hero," the controlled civilian said midst crying.
"And that will be your downfall," Endeavor said as small flames began to grow from the palm of his right hand.
The knife that once was in your body was violently ripped out of your body by the controlled civilian and then used to kill themself by piercing their heart.
Tears fell as you saw the now lifeless male bleed to death right beside you.
"Oh don't worry," Endeavor said, "I'll make sure you also go with him, too. That small wound won't kill you, I know that."
You saw Midnight running towards you along with Eraserhead and All Might.
"You know, I always pictured you crying over a dead Nemuri Kayama whilst bleeding from your stomach, have you?"
Your eyes widened at the statement.
There was no way you were going to let that villain kill her.
"Eraser," you screamed, "Erase his quirk and get Midnight out of here."
'Please don't fail on my now, buddy,' you told to your body as you ran towards Endeavor, 'You still have to live for the people you love.'
You quickly formed another Haladie sword and vaulted from the floor towards Endeavor.
You managed to grab the hand aimed at Midnight and pushed it towards you. Using the remainder fluid you had, you formed another quirk-cancelling glove on Endeavor's right hand.
You could hear a sigh of relief from both Nemuri and Shouta, making you smile.
From afar, you heard All Might saying that he caught the villain that was controlling both the civilian and Endeavor. You were shocked when you heard the number one hero's laugh of victory.
You were amazed at the skill the male had.
A villain that took two people to search for was found by him in a few minutes.
Soon, the wound formed by the dead civilian began to take effect as your vision became hazy.
Before you could lose consciousness, you felt Nemuri's hands wrap around you, catching you before you fell.
When you woke up, you heard the sound of hospital monitors beeping. You felt a small hand gripping around your left hand.
"Why did you let them stab you, idiot," you heard your younger brother say, "Don't go teaching me a lesson with your death - it won't work."
You chuckled, looking at the younger blonde. "If this doesn't work on you, I don't know what will."
Katsuki began to sob on your blanket while gripping on the four fingers his small fingers could grip.
"It's okay, Kacchan," you saw a green-haired boy patting his back, "He is here and he is alive. That is all that matters, okay?"
You smiled, looking at the greenette.
"What's your name?" you ask him.
"I'm Izuku Midoriya! I'm friends with Kacchan," he says with a beaming smile.
"Kacchan, huh?" you tease, "You are really close friends with Kacchan, aren't you?"
Before Izuku could reply, you felt Katsuki pinch your leg.
"I don't even know why I care for you, you fatass."
"Oh, how you wound me," you feign sadness as the ten-year-olds left your room.
You smile at the sight of the greenette consoling your brother as they walk out of the room.
You look up to the ceiling, sighing.
"You are a bit too young to be sighing so loudly, Y/N," Nemuri said as she slowly opened the door, "I saw what you did there. Don't tease Katsuki so often, he is quite mature for his age, you know?"
You smile, looking at Nemuri with her hands on her waist.
"He's growing too fast. I need small moments like this to remember how innocent he is before he becomes the raging little twit I know he'll become."
"Woah, Woah, Woah," she says, laughing, " 'Raging little twit'? You really are a bad brother."
You begin laughing, "I have to be the playful one or else the Bakugo's would be a family of three brooding people and one peaceful man."
"True."
Your eyes widen.
"You aren't supposed to agree, you know?"
"My mother taught me not to lie," she says, smiling.
"Well, white lies aren't bad."
She sits beside you and holds your hand. Tears slowly escape her eyes as she looks at you.
"You are okay, right?" She says, sniffling.
You slowly wipe off her tears and put the palm of your hand on her cheek.
"I'm fine, Nemuri."
You slowly move towards her and place a kiss on her forehead.
You pat the empty side of your bed, "Want to join me?"
She slowly nods as she walks to the empty side of the bed and gets in. Her legs immediately wrap around your left leg as she places her head against your chest. Her left hand extends around your waist and hugs you.
"What are you, a koala?" you joke.
"What can I say? You are a comfy tree."
"Well, I am glad to be of service."
Soon, Nemuri goes to sleep. Soft snores can be heard from her as she rubs her head against your chest.
'The koala became a cat,' you thought to yourself.
Your right-hand goes to the top of her head, ruffling her hair.
"I love you so much, Nemuri Kayama. I always will. If I had to, I would gladly lay my life down so that you'd be safe. I know you're asleep and probably can't hear this, but you are the most important thing in my life - don't forget that," you tell her sleeping figure as you fall asleep.
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kingkatsuki · 5 years
Text
Caught | Kirishima Eijirou x Bakugou Katsuki x Shinsou Hitoshi x Reader
Thanks to this anon, and these posts by @monst​ on discord, I am avoiding my ‘To Do’ list and writing absolute madness like this shit. Remember during Kinktober when I said I wouldn’t be writing anymore foursome/moresomes? I guess I lied~
Also gonna tag @ikinabi​ because I think she’d love this idea  too-
Warnings: 18+
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~
“Well, this wasn’t a sight I expected to see on a school night,” You grinned at the two sheepish looking boys tied down to chairs as Shinsou gave you a lazy smirk from the other side of the room, your lacy panties in his hands as he thumbed the crotch, feeling the stain from your slick against them.
“I can explain-” Kirishima’s eyes widened as he saw you at the door, cheeks almost as red as his hair as he tried to mumble out excuses. Bakugou’s booming voice already overpowering him.
“Let me out of this, you purple asshole,” Bakugou glared towards Shinsou, desperately tugging against the rope holding his wrists to try and free himself from this embarrassing situation.
“It’s not what it looks like, I swear-” Kirishima stuttered out, his eyes wide as Shinsou stepped towards you, handing you back the pair of panties that had been commandeered from the two boys in front of you moments earlier, the picture already saved onto your camera roll.
“So what does it look like? Because to me it looks like two perverts stealing my girlfriends dirty panties?” Shinsou came up behind you to circle his arms around your waist, his mouth immediately latching onto your neck as he sucked down against a pressure point, his teeth nipping at your supple skin, causing you to groan at the sensation.
“Girlfriend?” Both boys looked at you both in confusion as you stifled a laugh, your relationship with Shinsou had been kept quiet, not wanting it to complicate his entrance into Class A. Or to have any effect on your work and progress.
“If you were that desperate for my panties, you know I would have just given you a pair, right?” You grinned watching Kirishima’s sheepish face avoid any and all eye contact with you while Bakugou thrashed desperately against his restraints, “At least know I know it isn’t the washing machine, huh?” 
“I’m sick of hearing these perverts calling out my girlfriends name every single night,” Shinsou’s voice was possessive, his fingers digging into your hips as you leaned your head back against his shoulder, giving him more access to suckle your neck, “I think they need to be reminded who you belong to.”
“Is this what you imagine doing to her when you steal her panties?” Shinsou’s fingers dipped under your skirt, flashing the red lacy material that you were currently wearing to their prying eyes. The guttural groan that left Kirishima’s lips at the sight sent a pool of heat flooding to your core, your thighs immediately clenching together to try and give yourself some kind of relief as Shinsou’s fingers hooked into the hem, tugging them down your hips. A string of your slick connected the material to your sopping folds and both restrained boys stopped struggling to focus their eyes on the sight. Groaning when your panties dropped to the floor. Shinsou’s fingers moved back up to unbutton your shirt, letting the material pool to the floor where your panties lay. Exposing your chest to the eyes in the room, your breasts encased in a matching red lace bra. You were quick to bend down and pick your panties up, smiling at the pair as you flashed them the soaked crotch. 
“Is this what you wanted?” You stepped closer to both of them, giving them a better look at the stained material. Kirishima’s head nodding willingly while Bakugou continued to glare at you, thrashing against his restraints, “Or maybe you’d prefer the real thing?”
Kirishima groaned at the thought, his tongue slipping out from between his lips as he imagined the taste, even Bakugou stilled at the thought. Watching as you tugged your skirt down your hips, revealing your naked cunt to their prying eyes.
“She’s perfect, right?” Shinsou hummed, moving back behind you to lift one of your thighs in the air, bending your knee and placing your foot against Kirishima’s meaty thigh, revealing your dripping heat to his prying eyes. Kirishima grunted at the sight, you were inches from his lips, your scent invading his senses, if only he could lean forward to get a taste.
Shinsou’s fingers slipped down to your cunt, using two to spread your folds to give them both a view of your puffy clit, his fingers pinching it between the calloused pads before he dipped down to your tight hole, gathering your essence against his digits. You grinned, following Shinsou’s movements as you moved your own fingers along your sopping folds, gathering some of your slick on your fingers and holding them up to Bakugou’s face.
“Do you want to taste, Bakugou?” You feigned innocence as you leaned your hand towards him, close enough for him to lean forward and capture your digits between his lips, “You’re looking a little left out-”
“Fucking untie me now.” Bakugou glared at the man behind you as he tried to fight the smell of your essence flooding his senses.
“Oh, that’s not very nice is it, hm?” You shook your head playfully, offering your fingers to the redhead in front of you who happily took them into his mouth, his tongue swirling around them as he slurped your slick from them. His groans vibrating around your skin as you watched him drink you in, “See. Kirshima’s being a good boy,”
“I think they both deserve to be punished,” Shinsou breath was hot against your ear as his fingers continued to circle your clit, sending pleasurable jolts throughout you as you began to grind yourself against his touch, Kirishima unable to take his eyes off you.
“Oh? You think we should make them watch you fuck me?” You grinned at the pained look on Bakugou’s face, a snarl evident on his features but you couldn’t mistake the large bulge in his trousers. The thought alone of his cock stretching your cunt sent a tidal wave straight down to your core.
“Or,” Shinsou teased, trying to get you in on the suggestion.
“Princess, I could make you feel so good.” Kirishima mumbled, his cheeks flushed as he tried to lean his body forward to taste your cunt, “Please let me touch you, I could make you feel so good.”
“As good as I make her feel?” Shinsou grinned, a hand moving up to cup one of your breasts, teasing your nipple through the sheer material.
“You know I could fuck you way better than that assholes limp dick.” Bakugou growled out through gritted teeth, his erection straining painfully against his sweatpants.
“I haven’t had any complaints so far,” Shinsou spat back cooly.
“That’s because she hasn’t had my fucking cock.”
“They’re fighting as though we aren’t even here,” You cooed down to Kirishima as you stroked his cheek, your fingers weaving around the back of his neck as you eased your body forward, your cunt now eye level with him as he surged forward to taste you. His tongue immediately diving between your sopping folds. You whined at the sensation, your fingers weaving into his red hair to hold on tight as Kirishima began to feast on you, his teeth lightly scraping your skin as his tongue slipped out to dip inside your tight hole.
“Hey, excuse me.” Shinsou growled into your ear, his teeth nipping the lobe as he watched his classmate eat you out, “Having fun without us?”
“You really letting shitty hair have the first fucking taste?” Bakugou growled, “You know I can make you feel so much fucking better.”
“Oh, shit. Kiri-” You whined as his nose brushed against your clit, his tongue now plunging between your folds, stroking your inner walls, “Fuck, yes-”
“You like that, kitten?” Shinsou bit down on your neck, watching Kirishima’s tongue delve into your heat, “You like these little perverts touching you like this?”
You nodded your head yes as his fingers moved back to undo your bra, letting the material drop to the floor as his fingers teased your hardened buds, tweaking them between his fingers as his eyes glanced towards Bakugou, who was watching the scene intently, low growls leaving his lips.
“I think it’s my turn,” Shinsou lifted you away from Kirishima as though you weighed nothing, arching your back as he pressed your head down against Kirishima’s clothed crotch. A small, wet stain darkening the grey sweatpants he wore as his pre-cum seeped through the material.
“Gonna fuck this pretty pussy,” Shinsou stroked his hardness along your slit, gathering your juices on the head before plunging inside your tightness with a grunt. You mewled at the sensation of feeling full. Your hands immediately moving down to Kirishima’s strong thighs as Shinsou began to thrust into you, starting a slow, hard pace. 
“Why don’t you suck his cock, Princess? He looks like he’s about to burst,” Shinsou smirked, his eyes meeting Kirishima’s as your slender fingers moved to tug at his grey sweatpants, tugging them down as Kirishima’s cock bounced up, almost hitting you in the face as you licked your lips in anticipation. He was thick. You weren’t sure if you would be able to take him all in so you moved your hand to the base, squeezing him gently as you slipped the head inside your mouth. Kirishima groaned at the sensation, his hips immediately rutting up into your touch, making you gag on his length, even with your hand wrapped securely around him. The taste of his pre-cum filled your senses as you began to bob your head along his length.
“She’s so good at sucking dick, right Kirishima?” Shinsou smirked down at the redhead, his hand moving back to spank your rear as he continued his pace.
Kirishima couldn’t form a coherent response as your lips wrapped around his length, your tongue following the curve of one of the veins along him as he fought desperately against his restraints, wanting nothing more than to bury his hands into your messy hair. Your moans vibrating along his cock as your tightness continued to clench around Shinsou’s length.
“You want to fuck her, Bakugou?” Shinsou smirked, eyes focused on his reaction as his hips continued to rut into your cunt.
“Yes,” Bakugou spat through gritted teeth, it evidentally pained him to answer the question but he was feral. His cock straining against his sweatpants, desperate to be freed. His eyes focused on your bouncing breasts as each thrust of Shinsou’s hips sent you flying into Kirishima. 
Bakugou’s body immediately stopped thrashing as his thrusts stilled inside you. Your eyes widening in shock as Shinsou had taken over Bakugou’s form with his quirk. You whimpered at the sight, Shinsou pulling his hardness from your cunt as he moved to untie Bakugou.
Your lips continued to suck Kirishima’s cock, your fingers slipping down to tease his balls as your eyes watched Bakugou tug his own sweatpants down. You almost choked on Kirishima’s cock at the sight of Bakugou in all his glory. The tuft of blonde hair sitting at the base of his cock, the large vein curving round the top, the large bead of pre-cum oozing from the tip. You groaned in anticipation, causing you to gag on Kirishima’s length.
“Fuck her pussy,” Shinsou’s words were harsh as he took a seat in the chair Bakugou had occupied seconds earlier, jerking his cock between his large palm, giving you a sly smirk.
You felt warm hands grasp your hips harshly, thumbs spreading your ass cheeks apart as Bakugou’s girth pressed against your heat, bottoming inside you and starting a frantic pace without giving you a moment to adjust.
“Fuck, Bakugou-” You whimpered, pulling yourself off Kirishima’s cock to gasp for air. Bakugou’s cock curved perfectly towards that spongy spot inside you that had you seeing stars, your already overstimulated body desperate for a release.
You felt hands move back to plunge your head back down on Kirishima’s cock, looking to the side you noticed it was Kirishima’s large hands that had held onto your hair, moving you against his length. Shinsou obviously untying him when you had been distracted by Bakugou.
“You look so good, so perfect-” Kirishima continued to stutter out praises as you continued to suck his length, feeling your own release creeping up on you as your boyfriend watched you being fucked by two other men.
“She is perfect, isn’t she?” Shinsou continued to stroke his cock, his thumb teasingly brushing against the tip with each roll of his wrist, smearing his pre-cum down the length, “My perfect little slut.”
“Don’t you dare cum inside her, Bakugou.” Shinsou growled as you felt Bakugou’s grip on your waist tighten, obviously internally fighting with himself to try and disobey Shinsou’s words.
You whined around Kirishima’s length, your fingers squeezing his balls as you felt him twitch inside you, it was evident he wouldn’t last much longer. Your own release already imminent as you tried to steady your breathing. Each thrust Bakugou gave plunged you deeper against Kirishima’s cock, his head hitting the back of your throat with each thrust.
“Fuck, babe-” Kirishima grunted as he came, his load hitting the back of your throat as he filled you with his seed. The hot liquid spilling down your throat made you cough in surprise, the sensation making your throat burn as you tried to regain your breath. Cum dribbling down your cheeks as you coughed desperately on his length.
“Shit, are you okay?” Kirishima’s gentle fingers moved to hold your cheeks, wiping away the tears that pricked the corners of your eyes as the feeling of your own release overtook any pain that you had previously felt. Your cunt clenching around Bakugou’s cock as you came with a groan. Your body spasmed, your knees becoming weak as you were held up by Bakugou’s rough hold to your hips, your nails digging into Kirishima’s muscular thighs as you continued to whimper out expletives.
“Shit, fucking tight-” Bakugou grunted, his thrusts unwaivering as you convulsed around his length, using you to search for his own release.
“Don’t fucking cum inside her,” Shinsou growled, his dark eyes focusing on Bakugou as you felt his hips stutter against your ass, as if he was trying to disobey Shinsou and his quirk.
“Fuck,” Bakugou’s sweaty grip on your hips began to ache as he forced himself as deep as possible into your tight heat, your spasming walls clenching around him, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, “Shit-”
Bakugou’s hips stilled against you as he came, emptying his load inside your aching cunt. Your mouth open in a silent moan as you felt his cum coating your inner walls, filling you with his release.
“Fucking asshole,” Shinsou was already to his feet, dragging Bakugou back by his shoulder as his length was pulled from your tight cunt, leaving you feeling empty. Eye’s watching Bakugou’s load spill out of your dripping pussy.
“I think it’s time I show them who you really belong to, Kitten.”
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planetsano · 4 years
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How Bakugou would deal w/ a pregnant and very emotional s/o.
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synopsis: see title.
warning(s) &tag(s): pro hero!au, aged up, f!reader, cursing, pregnancy stuff
pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader
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the further you got into your pregnancy the more emotional you became.
“Mood swings during pregnancy are caused by a variety of factors, including your rapidly changing hormones, the physical discomforts of pregnancy, and the very normal worries of upcoming life change.” - google.
so with that being said,
bakugou was feeling playfully one day and jokingly said you looked like a pumpkin.
...
you cried like a big baby.
he was confused™ and worried™ watching you burst into tears in front of him.
you were already having a rough day.
your feet hurt, boobs were sore and you ran out of your favorite ice cream to satisfy your cravings.
“Fuck, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to hurt your feelings, princess.”
he's trying to console you while you go on about how he can't wrap his arms around you anymore.
Look, he's come a long way from his high school days. He’s much more level-headed but he's still a little.. awkward when attempting to comfort someone but he's trying!!
“Shut up, you're talking nonsense.”
“No it's true, I’m huge!”
“(Name). You're pregnant, your stomach is supposed to grow huge. There's a kid in it.”
“But-!”
“Do you want me to buy you ice cream or not?”
“y-yes 🥺”
His new nickname for you is crybaby.
you don't mind it. its kinda cute and true
oh, you also get irritated much easier than you did before.
usually bakugou was the irritable one and you calmed him down but its the other way around now
and he wasn't prepared for when you told him to blow up the entire kitchen all because when you were making dinner, you started pouring milk in the pot.. and it did the thing.
the thing when you pour something and it spills on the counter.
and it made you comically mad instead of usually mildly irritated.
“blow all this shit up now! we can get dinner from somewhere else! why are kitchens even a thing?!”
“you must be smoking crack if you think I'm going to fuck up the kitchen because you spilled some milk.”
“i'll do it myself!” you started to activate your quirk much to bakugou’s amusement.
he just wrapped you in his arms and patted your head lovingly.
you calmed down almost immediately
“as much as I'd like to see you fuck all shit up over something stupid, the doctor said to lay off your quirk.”
“oh right, I forgot heehee.. you smell good 🥰”
bakugou is 100% understanding why your mood is on opposite sides of the spectrum nearly everyday.
he thinks it's kind of endearing
like when you see something cute really cute like a puppy, it'll literally bring a tear to your eye
or when you guys are laying in bed at night and you admit that you're scared of motherhood.
he's understanding and reassures you that you're going to be a “kickass mother” & he's going to be there with you every step of the way.
he loves u and his baby growing inside u :(
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kirishimaswife2819 · 4 years
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Them With a S/o That Loves Sanrio || Bakugou and Kirishima
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Masterlist
Pairings: Katsuki Bakugou x Reader, and Eijiro Kirishima x Reader
Requested by Anonymous: hi!! if you can could you do hcs on kirishima and bakugo with a s/o that loves sanrio (for example kuromi, my melody, hello kitty)💖 i think it’d be really cute since its such a big contrast to their personalities😭😭 have a great day!!😊
Word Count: 400 
A/n: Hi! I didn’t know much about Sanrio (I only knew about Hello Kitty), so I searched it up and looked at the different characters and stuff like that, so I hope I did okay, I tried my best. Also, apologies for the wait, I had a few other requests to get to first (I do them in the order that they come in). Anyway, I hope this was okay, and you liked it, thanks for requesting! Also, requests are still open if you guys want to request :) - Danielle <3
P.S. I just checked my follower count and I hit 100, and I know that doesn’t seem like much but the fact that I had 0 like 12 days ago, makes it important to me. Anyway, thanks so much to everybody that followed me!
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Katsuki Bakugou:
He’s going to walk in to your room for the first time and see all your merch, and be like
“Isn’t this stuff for like five year olds?”
Once you explain to him like all the characters and how much you love it, he’s still going to claim it’s for little kids and you shouldn’t be obsessed with it
But he’ll buy you plushies and merch for it
Not that he’d admit he did though
One time he was in the store buying a new plushie that just came out for you
And Kaminari happened to be walking through the store, and he saw him
Let’s just say Kaminari took a photo and black mailed Bakugou with it
Kaminari made him do so many things that Bakugou would never do if it wasn’t for the situation
Eventually, Bakugou got sick of Kaminari’s shit and he just blew up the phone
He also won’t directly give you the merch, but you’ll know it’s from him because he always draws a little explosion on the tag
Like you’ll open your dorm door and on the floor outside will be a bag with something inside of it
He low key thinks your obsession is pretty cute and doesn’t have a problem with it
He also refused to admit that he thought it was cute
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Eijiro Kirishima:
When he walks into your room and sees how much you like it, he’s going to ask about it, cause he had no clue what Sanrio was before he came into your room
He’s immediately gonna tell you how cool he thinks it is that you like it so much, because we all know he’s a good and supportive boyfriend
Always buying you new merch
He also happens to know every piece of merch you own somehow
Like he had told Mina about how much you liked it, so she was going to get you something that had to do with it, and she invited Kirishima along with her to help
And he named like over fifty things that you already had
He also remembers all the characters names even though it took him a few tries to figure them all out
Sometimes if he’s in a certain mood, he’ll buy you guys matching merch
Like you guys have matching hoodies (even though you stole his for yourself because it smelled like him) and a few matching shirts
He even has a few plushies in his room
If there’s a new piece of merch, he’ll wait in line hours for it, just so he can see a big smile on your face when he hands you the bag with it inside
Overall, he loves feeding your love for it, and is totally supportive of it
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shoutaaizawas · 4 years
Note
hi! can i please request a bakugo bakery au with a prompt “Can I kiss you?” TSYM ✨ I recently found your blog and i love ur works 💕
thank you so much! writing this made me hungry lol
↳ bakugou katsuki x reader → frosting
event: au prompts summary: you have a crush on your local baker word count: 1,447 tags/warnings: fluff
It was an accident, well maybe that wasn’t the right word. Serendipity was a romantic way to put it. You were starving on your way to work and you spotted a bakery you had never noticed before. You had time so you decided to stop in and get something to eat.
The case full of assorted pastries was drool-worthy and so was the grumpy-looking blond behind the counter. With his red eyes and his surprisingly toned figure, he didn’t look like a baker yet he was the only one there.
“What do you want?” He asked, his tone was far from what you’d find at any other business but it wasn’t off-putting to you.
“Oh, it’s my first time here.” You said. “What do you recommend?”
“Well, it’s all good because I made it.” He said bluntly. You let out a laugh.
“Okay, well do you have a cheese danish?” You asked.
“Yeah. Anything else?” He said as he reached into the case and bagged it for you.
Your number. You were glad you had the self-control to keep from making a fool of yourself.
“That’s all.” You said stepping towards the register and paying. “Thank you.”
The blond man let out a grunt and you left. What an odd bakery, you thought to yourself as you pulled out the pastry and took a bite.
You nearly gasped at how amazing it tasted. You had tried a lot of cheese danishes but this one was by far the best.
Since that day you decided you would stop there for breakfast. If he was surprised at your presence the next day he didn’t show it. You ordered the same and found out he also sold coffee. You got a coffee as well and went on your way.
“If you like cream cheese you should try this.” He said bagging another pastry as well. “It’s a blueberry cream cheese muffin.”
“That sounds amazing, if it’s as good as the danish I’m sure it’ll be delicious.” You said you didn’t miss the dusting of pink on his cheeks as he rang you up. You noticed he didn’t charge you for the muffin, as you opened your mouth he cut you off.
“On the house.” He said. “You come here a lot.”
“Wow! Thank you so much-” You realized you had never caught his name, you scanned his apron for a name tag.
“Bakugou. Bakugou Katsuki.” He said knowing what you were looking for.
“Thank you, Bakugou. You’re the best.” You told him. You pulled out the muffin and took a bite out of it right there. “Wow, that might be the best muffin I’ve ever had.”
“Of course it is.” He said with a smirk but you could tell he had been a bit nervous about your reaction despite his attitude.
“Thank you again, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You said with a wave as you went on your way.
This routine carried on for months, you would get your pastry, he would offer your try something else on the house, and he would smile proudly as you told him how much you loved it.
Over these months your crush on Bakugou Katsuki got bigger and bigger. First of all, he was handsome to an unreal level but it wasn’t just his looks. His personality was rough around the edges but he was genuine and kind. And of course, he could bake like no one else you had ever met.
Every morning you ended up spending a bit more time there chatting with him. On occasion, you would even sit down and eat your pastry and drink coffee with him if there were no other customers to help. This only increased your crush on him. You wanted to ask him out but you were so nervous.
One morning you talked to him about making a cake for a dinner party you’d be attending tomorrow. You told him what you wanted and he said he’d have it ready by the time you were off work and heading home.
It was later in the day, you had gotten off of work and were ready to pick up the cake. You entered into the bakery, it had been closed officially for an hour but he told you he’d still be there and to just walk in.
The lobby was empty but you could hear from the back that Bakugou was there. The bell alerted him to your presence and he walked out of the back room with a cake box in hand. What caught your attention was his appearance, he looked disheveled and he was covered in flour.
“Are you okay?” You asked you knew that he did most of his baking in the morning so everything would be fresh.
“Yeah, I just had a big order I have to get done tonight.” He explained.
“A big order?” You questioned.
“Two thousand cupcakes.”
“Two thousand cupcakes!” You exclaimed.
“Yeah, and then I have to be back at four in the morning to bake everything for my normal day.” He said.
“Do you need help?” You asked. You didn’t have a ton of baking experience but you were competent. Bakugou raised an eyebrow at your offer.
“Can you bake?” He asked.
“I know enough. Better than staying here all night. If I help you might get a couple of hours of sleep.”
“I’m desperate, I’ll take it.” He said nodding towards the back door. You laughed at his comment and followed him. He handed you an apron and you looked around the kitchen. It was optimized for baking, large trays, and mixers.
“I have the first batch done, do you know how to frost?” He asked.
“Oh! I’m really good at that.” You said.
“Okay, here let me show you how I’m doing it.” He said. Bakugou led you to the counter where the cupcakes were cooling off. He grabbed the frosting he had ready in a piping bag and showed you how he was decorating them. He handed you the bag and you tried to follow his lead.
What you weren’t expecting was for him to come up behind you and take your hands in his.
“Like this.” He said his breath against your ear. You felt so small in his arms. He guided your hands through the correct motions. “Got it?” He asked.
You nodded, too out of it to reply with words.
The night was interesting. Bakugou went from making batter to putting them in the oven to making more frosting. You helped him where you could but the most time-consuming thing was the frosting. As time went on you could tell he was getting tense. You were both getting a lot done but it was late and there were still some to get done.
You were waiting for the next batch to cool down when you had an idea. An idea you might get killed for but you were brave enough to try it. You went to Bakugou’s side watching him as he mixed another batch of batter. You spotted the bag of flour and before you could stop yourself you dipped your hand in grabbing a bit before throwing it at him.
Bakugou paused what he was doing blinking slowly as he processed what you had done. The silence was almost terrifying but you weren’t scared of him.
Surprisingly Bakugou followed your actions and wiped flour across your cheek. You wondered if he was more playful than you expected or if he was just delirious at this point. You laughed and went back for some more.
This flour fight carried on until you slipped, Bakugou tried to catch you but he was only pulled down to the ground with you. His reactions were quick enough that he was able to put a hand behind your head to prevent it from hitting the concrete floor.
You laid there, Bakugou’s hand cradling your head and his other hand against the ground holding himself up over you. You laid there stunned looking up at him.
The mood had gone from playful to tense. You couldn’t keep your gaze off of his lips.
“Can I kiss you?” His words caught you off guard.
“Please.” You said, eyes wide.
Bakugou didn’t hesitate to lean in, his lips meeting yours. It was everything you dreamed of. He pulled back, resting his forehead against yours.
“Go on a date with me.” You said.
“You couldn’t wait one second for me to ask you out?” He said in a playfully annoyed tone.
“Can’t let you make all the big moves.” You teased.
Bakugou went in for another kiss.
The wait was certainly worth it for your favorite baker.
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