i write mostly smut - i'm obsessed with age gaps - these men will devour your soul
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now serving : smoking gun ─ w. ushijima
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as a dare, your friend's thought it would be funny to dress you up in a slutty bunny costume and shove you into the closet of the man they know you have a thing for–tamaki amajiki. he's shy and non-confrontational, but oh so horny!
complete
“Don’t forget,” his voice was just as it would have sounded if he were asking for notes. How could he stay so calm—so unemotional through all of this? “You snuck into my room, I could report you.”
“I already told you—it was a dare—
“Dare or not,” he lined up his tip with the hole in the latex skirt, spreading your ass as much as he could, “You’re the one at fault.” You clenched at the feeling of him dragging his length between your thighs, moaning when he pressed it against your hole. “Relax for me, okay?”
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OCTOBER 1 first time satoru gojo
OCTOBER 2 one night kei tsukishima
OCTOBER 3 spanking kakashi hatake
OCTOBER 4 overstimulation ryomen sukuna
OCTOBER 5 bondage shoto todoroki
OCTOBER 6 thighgasm wakatoshi ushijima
OCTOBER 7 deepthroating tobio kageyama
OCTOBER 8 predator/prey itachi uchiha
OCTOBER 9 aphrodisiac seishiro nagi
OCTOBER 10 breathplay sasuke uchiha
OCTOBER 11 age gap satoru gojo
OCTOBER 12 bratting kakashi hatake
OCTOBER 13 begging seishiro nagi
OCTOBER 14 power play kakashi hatake
OCTOBER 15 hate sex satoru gojo
OCTOBER 16 mind control ryomen sukuna
OCTOBER 17 exhibitionism daichi sawamura ft. koshi sugawara
OCTOBER 18 roleplay katsuki bakugo
OCTOBER 19 pornstar shoto todoroki
OCTOBER 20 pseudo-incest itachi uchiha
OCTOBER 21 predicament shoto todoroki
OCTOBER 22 creampie satoru gojo
OCTOBER 23 cnc tobio kageyama
OCTOBER 24 masochisim katsuki bakugo
OCTOBER 25 stalking shoto todoroki
OCTOBER 26 cumdump sasuke uchiha
OCTOBER 27 blackmail wakatoshi ushijima
OCTOBER 28 fuck or die ryomen sukuna
OCTOBER 29 agoraphilia wakatoshi ushijima
OCTOBER 30 petplay kei tsukishima
OCTOBER 31 costumes katsuki bakugo
as a dare, your friend's thought it would be funny to dress you up in a slutty bunny costume and shove you into the closet of the man they know you have a thing for–tamaki amajiki. he's shy and non-confrontational, but oh so horny!
complete
“Don’t forget,” his voice was just as it would have sounded if he were asking for notes. How could he stay so calm—so unemotional through all of this? “You snuck into my room, I could report you.”
“I already told you—it was a dare—
“Dare or not,” he lined up his tip with the hole in the latex skirt, spreading your ass as much as he could, “You’re the one at fault.” You clenched at the feeling of him dragging his length between your thighs, moaning when he pressed it against your hole. “Relax for me, okay?”
continued after subscribtion!
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fbi agent wakatoshi ushijima wants you to testify in court, but you tell him the only way you'll do it is if he fucks your brains first.
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ㅤ♡ fbi!ushijima x witness!reader
ㅤ♡ modern au
ㅤ♡ nsfw romance-MDNI - improper use of a gun - horny!reader - reader!mb
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you
“And who might you be?”
“Wakatoshi Ushijima,” he was quick to flash his ID, “Is it alright if I ask you a few questions.”
“What is this regarding, Officer?” Jesus, he was hot.
“An incident that occurred here a few days ago, you might’ve heard of it?”
“Oh, yeah. I know what you’re talking about. Come inside.” Your eyes darted around, and when he was the only one to walk in, you asked, “No partner?"
“Not today.” Well, wasn’t that just perfect?
You froze, coming face to chest when you spun around. He reached out, grabbing at your elbows to keep you from falling over. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah—just…” his smell as your thighs pressing together. His voice was right above your ear, like he’d pulled you this close on purpose. You swallowed, attempting to step back. His arms reached out, still wrapped around your arms. “Uhm… Could you—”
“—Oh, yeah. Sorry.” He put space between you, but you’d caught that look in his eyes. He’d been staring at your tits. Well, good to know they were good enough. He was older, maybe five or six years your senior, but there was no ring, and that meant he was free game.
“So, about the incident?” You leaned forward, trying to get a good look at his face, which remained lowered. “I know what you’re referring to, but I don’t really know what I can do to help, wasn’t it already ruled an accident? That person…”
“Techinally,” he turned toward you, gaze hard and angry, but not at you—at some something you couldn’t see. He’d love a good stress fuck, maybe you could help him with this case… And some more. The thought pleased you a little too much.
“I’m assuming there's a ‘but’ after that?”
His eyes dragged incredibly slowly over your chest, and a slight smirk framed your face. Wasn’t he obvious? “Yes,” he cleared his throat, crossing his arms before meeting your gaze again. “But, I am not at liberty to say much yet.”
“Yet…?” Unfortunately, he seemed dead set on keeping every little detail to himself. “So then,” you walked around him, enjoying the way he followed you with both his eyes and his body. “What can I help you with, Officer Ushijima?”
“It’s actually Agent Ushijima.”
“Really?” Your eyes narrowed suspiciously and you leaned forward, “Can I see that ID again?”
“If you must.”
“I fear I must.” He acted reluctant, but still played your little game. Whatever he wanted to ask you must have been very important…
He flashed his ID once more, leaving it in the air longer this time.
“Hmmm,” you reached out to grab it, but he wouldn’t allow that—no, of course not. “Nervous, Agent?”
“Not in the slightest, Ma’am.”
You huffed out a laugh, “Give me some credit, I don’t look that old do I?”
He raised an eyebrow, though it seemed completely involuntary, and averted his gaze just slightly, as if he were truly contemplating your question. His muscles flexed when he tucked his wallet back into his pocket, and the image of him forcing you to choke on his cock flashed across your eyes. You had to take a step back to breathe better, squeezing your thighs wasn’t enough. How would he feel inside you? No doubt he’d stretch everything that needed to be. He could slap your ass as punishment and you’d thank him afterward.
“What’s on your mind?”
“Hmm?” You smiled, turning your back on him, “Nothing, you want some water?”
“I’m good. Could I ask you some questions now?”
“Sure. I don’t mind.”
You stepped further into your apartment, motioned for him to follow. He did so, but stiffly, and when you sat on your couch, he hesitated.
“It’s okay,” you patted the cushion next to him, but apparently that was too close for him. How disappointing.
“So then,” he started when he found a comfortable position against the wall across from you. His hands remained in his pockets, but you knew they were huge, much like you knew his lower region would be too. You had only been living in these apartments for a few months, but you supposed it was enough to take up all your social time. Perhaps that was why you were so horny. Could he tell? He was a big bad ‘Agent’ after all…
The way he was looking at you—with absolute stoicism—it did things to your brain you didn’t know was possible. He looked like a wolf in human form, glare not meant to scare, but warn, it had you pulling your knees up to your chest—if he looked down, he’d have a perfect view of your pussy pressing against your shorts.
“Miss, could you run me through what happened that night.”
“Sure.” You said, “but I’ve already given a statement to the police department, is it—right.” Your lips pursed when you saw the irritation sparking through his forehead. “I was coming home from school, going to the university nearby, I’m a graduate so I only have time for night classes—that’s why I was out so late, I have a normal day job, you know.”
He didn’t say much, but you supposed that was just how he was. It kind of amused you.
“Anyway, I was leaving the underground parking lot and coming up to my floor through the elevator, but right when I was going to get in, I saw…” you paused, averting your gaze. “That person, my neighbor's kid.”
“The victim?”
“Yeah—well, I haven’t been here that long, I didn’t know this was irregular for her, she’s older than me, that's why I wasn’t concerned with why she was out so late.”
“The victim was thirty-seven. She had a kid—”
“—I know—” you huffed, tears pricking your eyes. “I know, okay?” You swiped at your eyes, trying to calm yourself down. “So, when I saw her, I thought she was coming back from–like hanging with friends or something.”
“And approximately what time was this?”
“I don’t know—” you shrugged, “21:00, I think, I had two classes that night, but the last one got cancelled.”
“Alright,” he removed his hands from his pockets just to cross his arms and crane his neck. In this moody lamplight, it almost felt like he’d thought you had something to do with it. How frustrating.
“I didn’t know that woman well—I didn’t know her at all, I barely spoke to her mother.”
“Did you see anyone else there?”
“No—I already told you—” you paused. “Wait…”
He pushed off the wall and stalked forward, “What? What do you remember?”
Your eyebrows furrowed as you thought back to the only thing that had stood out of place. “It’s probably nothing—”
“—Tell me anyway.”
“Alrigh. Look.” You couldn’t meet his gaze. You hadn’t thought about this at first because the main thing that had drawn your attention was the kid, but going back now, it could’ve been something important. “There was this car… It was weird because I’d never seen it before, but like I told you I’m new here, so I guess I thought it might've been a visitor with the code? I don’t know…
“Do you remember the license plate?"
“Mmm…” you shut your eyes, your forehead creasing as you did your best to recall the numbers…
“You remember?”
Your eyes popped open, "Just the first three numbers… And the color of the car. I do remember thinking the owner must have been rich or something because it wasn’t a normal color.”
His mouth fell slightly ajar and he looked almost dumb. Seconds later he was running a hand over his face, groaning. “Let me guess. Metallic Blue?”
You nearly jumped up, “How’d you know?”
“That’s irrelevant.” You scoffed. “Meany.”
He paused, catching your gaze from the corner of his eyes, “How old did you say you were again?”
“Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to ask a woman that?” You crossed your arms and turned away from him dramatically. You expected a scoff, maybe another groan—but instead he started laughing. It almost sounded incredulous the way he ended the sound with a sigh.
“What’s your name?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
A wry smile pulled his lips upward. “I’ll see you again, Miss.”
“You’re leaving already?” You spun around on your couch just to watch him walk toward your front door. “Too bad.”
“Is that a joke?” He had one hand on your doorknob, the other stuffed into his pocket once again.
“You’re the agent,” you tilted your head downward and smirked, “what do you think?”
He shook his head, and tugged your door open, “I’ll be in touch, Young Miss.”
“Hey, since when did I become Young Miss?” Though he was already stepping through the threshold, you caught the slight curve of his lips. How interesting…
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you
The case hadn’t gotten much more media attention in the following weeks, and you had nearly forgotten about it—you hadn’t forgotten about him, however.
He appeared in your dreams more than necessary, baking you against a wall, forcing you onto your back, choking you with more than just his hands. You’d never thought about someone so vividly, and though it was frustrating, you knew the chance of ever seeing him again was incredibly low.
True, he had said he’d see you again, but that had been over a month ago. Your life was mundane most days, all you could do was masturbate to the thought of him. The pink vibrator you now held in your hand toyed with your clit. You pictured him, tugging up your legs, eating you, and fucking you. You wanted a tummy bulge—you wanted him.
Your moan fell out of your throat, you threw your head back, spreading your legs wider on your couch. You were so close to shoving the things up your cunt—but your fingers would have to do it. Maybe you should invest in a good dildo—the good ones were pretty expensive—
You paused at the knock on your door, your vibrator still obliterating your clit. Another knock—but you thought if you just ignored them, they would get the hint and go away. Whoever it was couldn’t be as important and what you were doing right now.
But then another knock, louder this time. You heaved a sigh and flicked off your toy, attempting to stand on wobbly legs. “Coming!” Though, not the way you wanted.
You unlocked your door and cracked it slightly, “Who—” you froze, “It’s you.”
“Can I come in?” Agent Ushijima attempted to look past you, but you kept your door nearly shut.
“What—what is this for?” You were half naked! You couldn’t let him see you like this—what would he think?
“I believe I told you I’d be back—
“Yes, but I—
“—What are you doing?” His eyebrows furrowed and he stepped forward, almost pushing the door open with sheer muscle.
“Uhm—how about you just give me a few minutes…” He eyed you suspiciously, but in the end, nodded.
You slammed the door and ran back to your room, pulling on the first pair of shorts you’d found. Your slick coaxed the inside, but there was no time for that. You cunt would have to wait.
Back at the door, you opened it again, fully this time. “Sorry about that… I was… busy…”
“Busy…”
“Yeah,” you circled him after closing the door once more, following as he seemed to know his way around your house.
“About the case,” he began, “would you be willing to testify to everything you told me last time?”
“Do I get to know the details?”
He halted, bent over your couch, and slowly turned around. He raised one arm, your pink, vibrator still covered in pussy juice clutched in his hand. You shuddered when he lifted it to his eyes, “Busy, were you?”
“Give it here!” You tugged at his shirt, pulling his height lower. “Seriously, what kind of cop just bursts into a person's house like this? Is this even legal?”
“Considering I’m here on official business on unofficial office hours,” he tilted his head, a slight smirk appeared, “Yes.”
“Whatever,” he lowered his arm, allowing you to obtain your toy. “Oh, don’t look at me like that.” You scoffed. “We barely know each other, this isn’t normal.”
“The circumstances are not normal, I agree. However, my duty is to the people of this country. I want justice—you feel bad for that woman and her family? Testify.”
“What was it?” You asked, walking toward the bathroom. Ushijima wasn’t too far behind, and when you flipped the tap on to rinse off your sex device, he leaned against the doorway, towering over the small area. “What happened to her? What kind of trouble was she in?”
“I can’t say…” he bit his cheek, averting his gaze. “But I can;t promise you won’t be in any danger. I will protext you.”
You scoffed. “And why, might I ask, should I trust you?”
“You already believe I can convince you,” he said, “Or else you would’ve asked why instead. Isn’t that reason enough?”
“Pyschology,” you clicked your tongue, finally turning to him again, “It’s a tricky thing. You crossed your arms and huffed, eyeing the toy that hadn’t been able to do you justice in over an hour. “Tell you what, Agent. I’ll testify if you do one thing for me.”
“What do you want?”
You snickered and stepped forward, running a hand over his chest. He visibly tensed under your chest, sucking in a breath. “So quick to please,” your flashes a pretty, evil smile. “It’s a small thing really, I just need you to use me.”
He blinked, “What do you mean by that?” Your hand trailed to his lower region, palming him for only a second above his pants before his fingers latched around your wrist and tugged your arm away. “Don’t.”
“Is that a no, then Agent?” You frowned. “Oh well—
“Is that really what you want?”
You smirked. “It might surprise you just a little, Agent, but I don’t usually have sexy, broad-shouldered men in fitted black shirts knocking on my door this late—and as you can see,” you waved toward the vibrator, “I was in the middle of something before you interrupted.”
He turned away, seeming pausing to think about your words. It was a shame, he was fucking gorgroue, and you bet his cock was just as thick as it’d felt through those pants.
“I’ll walk you out—
“Alright.”
You froze.
“But it’s a one time thing. And no one can know.”
Had he seriously just agreed? He knew you would have testified either way, right? Or maybe he didn’t? Was he dense or something? But before you could tell him that, he was pulling you into the hallway.
“Where do you want to do this?”
“Uhm—I guess the living room.”
Another tug, and he was pulling you over his lap, forcing you to straddle him. You swallowed, was he hard? You could practically ride him through his jeans. Fucking helll.
“You want me to use you little girl?”
“I’m not a—
His other hand tugged your head back by your hair, leaving your neck completely exposed. He leaned over your throat—face a breath away from yours—and railed his hot tongue up your pulse. “You’re a little girl to me. I could break you, but that’s what you want, right?” His fingers pressed against your lower abdomen, building pressure within just a few moments. “Alright then, I’ll oblige.”
You gasped and swallowed a gasp when something cold pressed against your thigh. “Is that—
“My gun, yes—but don’t worry, he's friendly.”
“You—” he pressed the barrel between your legs, moving it up and down as you would a toy. It was stupid—and dangerous… But fuck did it feel good.
“You like that?” His breath blanketed your ear and you nodded. “Good.”
He pulled your shorts aside and ran a finger through your slit. “How lude.”
“I was busy…” you grunted, meeting his gaze for the first time since he’d pulled you down.
“Did you manage to please yourself?” You turned away, heat coating your cheeks as you answered honestly. “Such a shame.” He clicked his tongue. “Now I have to put in extra work.” The way he spoke—the way he commanded you—it wasn’t completely unlike the way he’d acted the first time you’d met him.
He’d all but barged in that night too—had he been off duty that night as well?
Cool metal teased your lips, puffy from your earlier excursion. “Tell me, Little Girl, how much can you take before you start begging me to stop?” His eyes were suffocating, but that cool metal kept pushing further, fucking your folds until the tip met your entrance. “Scream if you’re in pain.”
You gripped onto his shoulders, sucking in a breath as he shoved his gun further into your cunt. It hurt at first—it wasn’t exactly made for this kind of situation.
“Are you afraid?” He was asking, taunting. “If you re just tell me and I’ll stop.” But you weren’t afraid. Yes, at any moment his gun could fire off, but damnit if that wasn’t turning you on further. “Such a dirty little girl,” his hair tightened, and his tongue trailed saliva around your pulse. “That’s it, ride my gun. Let it fuck you dumb. Dirty fucking slut.” You were a moaning mess each time the barrel hit your cervix, “Come all over it. You know you want to—”
And you did, you wanted to fuck his face, and his gun, and his cock. You wanted everything he had to offer, and you wanted it badly.
His pace increased, before had just been thrusts, but now he was fucking it into you like he’d meant what he’d said—like he wanted you to come all over and soil his pressure little firearm—pussy swallowing it hole.
“You’re nearly there, aren’t you?” His arm flexed as he quickened his pace. Beneath you, you could feel his bulge pestering your leg, as if hoping you’d free it. How cute, did he know how hard he was? You should probably take care of that for him, right? “Show me how badly you want it. How bad do you want a fat cock plunging into your pretty little cunt.”
“I—” your breath caught in your throat—you were going to combust if he kept talking like that. His knuckles brushed against your skin—dominately innocent compared to the way you were playing with his weapon. “Yes—God—”
A shudder ran through you, you were coming—and he knew it, so then why—why was he still—
“That’s right. Do this for me,” His voice was rigid… And you thought he might’ve been more affected by this than he wanted to let on. He fucked your cum back into your even as you drenched his gun.
“Good girl…” he breathed, finally pulling it out. “Taste yourself. Taste what a dirty fucking slut you are for me.” You let your tongue fall out so he could slide a tip between your lips. You hadn’t noticed it before, but there was something in his gaze now—something incredibly frightening. It was more than lust—and less than anger. And before you could even try to comprehend it, he set his gun aside and his lips slammed into yours. He was tasting you on yourself, and what did he think? He looked a little dizzy. “I take back what I said.” He moved a finger through your folds, eliciting a sweet moan from you. He popped his finger into his mouth, lapping up everything he’d gathered. “You won’t need that pathetic toy anymore.”
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as a college graduate, your father pushed you to leave the country. why? because you won’t leave his house otherwise. Japan, he said, is perfect, and you wouldn’t have to worry about getting a job because he had everything already covered. you should have asked why. you should have pressed him more before agreeing. because now, you’re stuck living with his old friend from high school, who also happens to be your new boss.
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ㅤ♡ professor!katsuki x friendsdaughter!reader
ㅤ♡ modern au
ㅤ♡ nsfw romance-MDNI ⋆ 20+ age gap ⋆ switching povs ⋆ calls you 'little girl' +
'brat' + sarcastically 'princess' ⋆ jealous!suki ⋆ eye-fucking ⋆ more tags on ao3
ㅤ♡ 10.1k
ㅤ♡ a/n lol i did not edit this
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ㅤchapter one ⏮ chapter two ⏭
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katsuki
His gaze caught yours in an instant. What the fuck were you doing here?
Katsuki cleared his throat and reframed the sentence he had just stumbled over. He swiveled back to the board and wrote down a word that was not in his notes. “Autocracy.” He said, “What does it mean?”
It wasn’t long before a few hands shot up. He picked the first person that had acted. “Autocracy,” they repeated, it was a woman—early 20s. “To hold absolute power.”
“Yes,” he affirmed, leaning beside the word on the chalkboard with his arms crossed, “but what else?"
Another hand—this time a man, around the same age as the last student.
“Go on,” Katsuki nodded, hoping you were listening.
“The power in question is only held by one person, such as a monarch or dictator.”
“Very good,” he purred, eyes circling where you thought you were invisible. Katsuki tapped his fingers against the board. “Did everyone hear that? If you didn’t know before, now you do.” He huffed and tossed the chalk onto the podium. “Autocracy. That is what I have over this class.” And over you. However, it was clear you still weren’t getting it. Apparently he would have to be more clear about that.
He went quiet for a moment, mind reeling at all the ways he could have you begging.
“Heres another word for you,” he paused, "...Susceptible…” his eyes wandered up through his eyelashes, eyes finding yours once more. “What does it mean?”
Hands went up across the class, but he was waiting, watching, and then—instead of calling on someone—Katsuki walked down the stage steps, around the stage, and up the middle aisle. You were two seats into the row—he could see you visibly stiffen as he approached.
You kept your head down, tugging some of your hair in front of your face in an attempt to hide yourself. It was cute, in a way that was completely useless. “You.” His voice was eerily calm, even he was a little surprised
Katsuki leaned his body over the seat, hoping his looming presence would scare you into looking up…
It did.
“Sir?” Your tone was squeaky, like you had to clear your throat or something.
“What’s the definition?”
Though his focus was undeniably on you, he could feel how tension passed from student to student until the entire lecture hall was holding its breath.
“Do you not know?—” Katsuki felt his shit eating grin before it appeared. He knew he’d gotten to you with the way your head jerked upward, as if you were trying to look down on him. There was credit due here somewhere; you were so stubborn.
“Susceptible,” you repeated, “what a person is when they are easily influenced or harmed.”
“Good.” he cooed, “You lot are very smart.” He turned back around, speaking to the entire class now. When he turned back to you he raised an eyebrow. “Whya re you sitting so far from the rest of your peers? Sit closer next time.”
Katsuki turned, not exactly dragging his feet down the steps but getting very close to it only to be stopped by a tug on his shirt. “Professor?” One of his eyebrows twitched and he cocked his head to the side, watching you from the corner of his eye. “There was another thing, about the word I mean.”
Katsuki’s jaw locked, but he accepted your challenge readily. “So,” he peered down at you, hoping you felt smaller than you actually were under his gaze. “What else?”
You reached out, pointing at something on his shirt. He looked down, trying to catch what it was. However, rather than seeing a stain or wrinkle, it was your finger in his face and then tapping his nose. “A person who is easily influenced, harmed, or…”
You paused and he could tell it was only for dramatic effect. The class seemed to be watching intently now. He’d thought this would be fun at first, but now he knew he had to put an end to your stupid little, if he was reported fraternizing with a student like this—even if you technically weren’t a student—would give people the wrong idea about him.
“Affected by something.”
“You’re right.” Katsuki nodded, taking a step back. “That was overlooked on my part.”
He spun around, attempting to scurry down the steps. You probably didn’t even know what you were doing, what it would look like if he stayed bickering with you for even a moment longer. Katsuki knew better than anyone that at a certain point, arguing became flirting. It was his favorite kind.
He froze when your shoulder collided with his and you moved past him.
“Are you affected, Professor?”
Your whisper tickled his ear and he had to clamp a hand over it to keep it from turning red. What the hell was that? His red eyes darted around the room, hoping no one else had heard.
This was too much.
You were too much.
But damnit if you weren't good. Using his own strategy against him? If only he hadn’t forgotten the rest of that definition. Jesus—what was it about you that slowed the speed of the gears in his brain? Katsuki cursed internally and moved back down to the stage, catching the way you slid into a seat closer to the front.
He allowed the class to move into its final thirty minutes before dismissing everyone early. It wasn’t just that he was out of material, it was that he could no longer concentrate, not when you were watching him and he couldn’t watch you. It wasn’t fair, you shouldn’t be able to do what you wanted after you had explicitly disobeyed him. No, he wasn’t your father. So why were you acting like such a brat? Why was it so difficult for you to just listen? You were doing it on purpose, he had no doubt about that—but why? Because he’d said you couldn’t attend the fucking class? It was one class a week—two hours.
“You—” he watched you freeze midway through standing. “Come here.”
The rest of the class scurried out, probably wondering what had him so irked, but not being curious enough to stay and find out. Good. He didn’t want anyone else to see what he was about to make you do.
“So, ride home together or—”
You cut yourself off when Katsuki tugged you toward im by your wrist. He shoved you against his desk, his laptop still open and on the presentation site. “You like this don’t you?” He didn’t wait for an answer, choosing to tug your head up by your hair, forcefully exposing your throat. Katsuki leaned his head down, breathing in your scent. “Did you use my soap again?”
Your hands reached out to grab his arms, but he was stronger, and he was a lot taller than most his age—and not just that. With his broad shoulders and flexed muscles, he was bigger too. He wondered if you’d ever been with someone as big as him. That fucking bastard, even if you hadn’t he hated the idea of someone else having you.
It was sick.
Katsuki was sick.
He had to calm down. He had to breathe, that was the only way he could keep his dignity. “Disobecidence deserves punishment.” He saw the shiver that danced over your exposed skin, it had him smiling to himself. Maybe you did affect Katsuki more than he’d like to admit, but the same could be said about you.
Still, as obstinate as you were, Katsuki knew all the ways to break little girls like you.
─────────────────────────────────
you
He was hovering over you, chest pressing into yours, one leg forced between your thighs. Was he really about to do this? Was it really that easy? A day and he was already giving in? Were you just that good or was he just so weak? A grin crawled its way onto your lips and you stopped fighting him. Instead, you wrapped your fingers around his tie and tugged him closer. “I know you’re really mad at me right now,” you hummed, “but if I apologized, would you forgive me?” You toyed with his collar, adoring the way he tensed under your touch. Your head lifted before your eyes did, “Professor Bakugo?”
He smacked away your palm and took several steps back, nearly falling on his ass when his calves hit the stage wall. You tilted your head and pushed yourself onto his desk, dangling your legs back and forth.
“Your monologue at the beginning of class was hilarious, by the way.” One of your hands found a pen beside your thigh. “But please tell me you don’t seriously do that for every class.”
His hands flexed and you could see his jaw locking, those gears in his mind began twisting as if he was trying to figure out what to do with you.
You weren't afraid of him, but maybe you should have been. Oh well.
“So, Professor,” you leaned forward on your knees. “Why’s this class so important? Or is it not important at all? And you really were just trying to piss me off?”
“I wasn’t—” Katsuki breathed in. He looked angry or confused—you couldn’t decide.
Your neck lolled to the side and you yawned. “If that wasn’t it, then what? Tell me, I want to know.” You felt a snort building in your throat when he stepped toward you.
“It doesn’t matter because this is the last time you will be attending.”
“You know, I’m starting to think you don’t actually like me.” The annoying part was that, that was actually true. You really couldn’t know what he was thinking, if his expectations of you didn’t match quite up to the person you were. Ouch. Hurting your own feelings would do you no good.
“Who said that?” His lips curled up in a cruel grin when his hand landed on your shoulder, more gentle than you were anticipating. “Do you remember what I told you?” His fingers trailed over your jawn and your lips parted. “Autocracy.”
His breath coated your lips and you couldn’t help but press your thighs together.
“That is what I have.” His thumb—large and tough—passed over your pulse. “And Susceptible. That is what you are when it comes to me.”
“So then, are you going to punish me, Professor?”
His face screwed up and his hands fell from your face. “Don’t call me that.”
“What should I call you then?”
His eyes darted down at the brown leather watch on his wrist before meeting your gaze once more. How would he begin? By making you remove your clothes? Forcing you to lift up your skirt? Would he pleasure himself to you and make you watch all the while your arousal grew? Make you watch him without ever touching you? Just how would he hurt you? “I’ve already told you.” His glare was almost as strong as your amusement. Why was he so serious? He needed to loosen up.
“Could you tell me again?” Your fingers travelled up his arms, he was so damning. Your thighs pressed together and you could feel the wetness dampening your panties.
“I am not your friend.” He’d told you that last night, Rule Two.”
“I don’t want you to be.” You pulled him lower, wrapping your legs around his waist. You could feel his growing arousal. You wanted to moan, but for some reason you thought that would turn him away. He was huge—just how long would it take him? Fuck. You bit your lip at the thought—a great deal of filthy images merging into each other in your mind.
He was warm and he smelled like all the vulgar fantasies you'd ever thought up. Right here against his desk, would he really do it? Align himself, choke you while he made you take him? Would he talk you through it or whisper unseemly things meant for no one else but you?
“You should watch what you say.” His jaw tightened like he was actively trying to hold himself back. But why? Why couldn't he just give in? Why couldn’t he just hurt you the way you wanted to be hurt?
“Why?” You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “You want me right? I can feel it through your pants, so there's no need to lie.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He growled, wrinkled forming around his narrowed eyes. Jesus, could he be anymore attractive? Already you were imagining how he would feel inside you, what were his favorite positions? What type of woman did he prefer? Meek, shy ones he could control? Or did he like women like you? Women who shot off insults like it was flirting, woman who needed to be put in their place, woman he could fuck the brat out of?
God you hoped it was the ladder.
Maybe he liked the innocent religious girls, or the kind, basic ones—no. Katsuki Bakugo wasn’t the basic type—it was right there in his hungry stare. He liked to be in control, there was no even ground when it came to being him. He always had to be in control. That was how he fucked.
“Tell me then,” you toyed with his tie. “Tell me what you want.”
“Stop,” he said even as his hips pushed into you.
“I’m not doing anything.” You strained your thighs, growing impatient. Couldn’t he see how needy you were? Why wasn’t he just giving in already? What was stopping him? Did he really have a girlfriend or something? If so, why hadn’t you seen her? Why did he not mention her before?
“You know exactly what you’re doing.” His voice was sharp and cold, and his hands were moving before you could realize the situation. You were on your back in an instant, beneath his hard chest. He hovered over you, crotch pressing further into your pussy through your skirt. “And you’re really starting to piss me off. That’s Three Rules.”
“So punish me.”
A cruel snarl curled his lips upward to his lips. “Don’t worry, Princess. I will.”
You expected his hands to infiltrate your entrance—to taste up your thigh before unbuckling his belt and yanking his bruised, throbbing cock out. Onto your knees, like that image before in the Airport. You were anticipating this—for your first time, you had surely picked the right person. With decades of experience on you. God—was this what a craving was? Were you craving him?
There was another word for this—something dangerously close to the word love—but you didn’t know this man. You met him just last night—and here he was, already having you lust after him.
Your mouth fell open—just slightly—when his fingers traced your bottom lip. You wanted to choke on it, to be filled with every part of him until your vision blurred. You breathed through your nose when he wrenched you off his desk.
─────────────────────────────────
katsuki
There were so many things he could have done to you right then and there. So many things he wanted to do to you and he had come close—so close to doing all the ungodly things that had drifted into his mind.
“How much longer?” You came to a stop in front of him, hands braced against your knees as you attempted to catch your breath.
Katsuki checked his watch. “Five minutes.”
“Man,” you groaned, “This is so unfair.”
“Keep running,” he hummed, leaning back against his desk, stuffing his hands back into his pockets. He was enjoying this probably more than he would have enjoyed fucking you. Your angry little outbursts every few minutes, your energy slowly being drained—he loved every second of your misery.
“Asshole.”
“What was that?”
“Nothing!”
The time ticked by, five more minutes of you running around the lecture hall in that skimpy little outfit you thought was cute. His eye twitched when his phone pinged. A message—
He froze.
Your father’s name crossed his screen.
Right. Your father. His friend. His friend’s daughter. He had to grip the edge of his desk to balance himself.
How are you?
22:04
Fine.
22:04
You?
22:04
Doing well over here.
22:05
How is she? Getting used to Japan yet?
22:05
Katsuki’s jaw locked.
22:05
It’s only been a few days.
22:05
Right. I guess she must still be mad at me huh? 22:06
What could he say? You hadn’t mentioned your father once since meeting Katsuki, therefore he had no clue as to how you felt about your father. And more than that, he didn’t really think it was his place to get between your relationship even if his intentions were good—which they usually weren’t, but still.
“I’m starving!” Katsuki’s gaze snapped up to where you were, rounding the center of the hall. He couldn’t quite see it, but he knew you must have been sweating balls.
“Fine.” He grabbed his bag, “Let’s go.”
He walked past you, up the stairs, not missing the, “Wait for real?” That came after.
Your father hadn’t texted him again, he was thankful for that because he didn’t know what to say. You trailed behind him, but it was like he could see you, walking with a little pep in your step. Did you hate your father? Was it because he had made you come to Japan? Or was it something else?
Katsuki shook his head, he was overstepping. This wasn’t any of his business. Regardless of whatever your feelings were toward his old friend, he was responsible for you now. Him and only him—and maybe that was a little selfish, but he would sooner die than admit that to anyone—even himself. So it stayed nuzzled in the back of his mind, praying nobody found it.
“Let’s get McDonalds.” Katsuki’s face scrunched up when he slid into his driver seat.
“McDonalds?”
“What? You don’t like it?” He’d never been fond of fast food—it weakened the body and who knew what came from international food sources. He just couldn’t be exactly sure what he was eating.
“Let’s get something—
“Too bad!” You huffed, falling back against his passenger seat. “That’s what I’m craving right now.” He buckled his seatbelt and then watched you incredulously. “Go on,” you motioned with one hand, “Drive.”
Despite being irked, Katsuki moved the gearshift into reverse and pulled out of the campus. “You need to learn better manners. Did your parents never teach you or what?” Katsuki checked his rearview mirror before switching lanes.
There were plenty of cheap, fast food restaurants around the university. He’d been in multiple situations where he’d had to throw out students for eating this garbage in his class. It stunk up the place and made it hard to focus. He couldn’t believe he was intentionally pulling into one of their parking lots. What if one of his old students caught him ordering? He’d been very vocal about his distaste for these kinds of places—and yet here he was being a hypocrite.
Damn it was annoying. “We are not going inside.”
“Is there a drive thru?” You poked your head toward the rolled up window.
Katsuki blinked at what he wanted to call 20-year-old stupidity, but giving you the benefit of the doubt, maybe you were just really tired and hungry. He hoped that was all it was and that you didn’t actually think Tokyo didn’t have drive thru’s.
He pulled into the parking lot and around the side of the building, careful to keep his eyes in front of him and not on you. He’d made that mistake last night and he had a full day tomorrow—he couldn’t do it again.
He shivered when he rolled the window down, hoping a fucking mosquito didn’t think it was an invitation. “Hello, can I take your order?”
He squinted, pushing his glasses higher onto his nose. “Uhm—
“Wait, let me order.” Katsuki shot you a glare, but that didn’t seem to deter you, in fact it was as if you hadn’t seen it at all—that or you had just ignored it…
Yeah, he wouldn’t put it past you.
You leaned over the middle console, your arm pushing your breast up through your shirt. He forced his eyes away, back on the menu—jsut anywhere but you. But that wasn’t enough because he could still smell you. Sweat and something sweet. It had his mouth watering—he had to stop that. He couldn’t be treating you like this even if you were asking for it. He might have not been a gentleman, but Katsuki had a line he wouldn’ t cross, and unfortunately you sat on the other side of it.
He could finally breathe again when you spouted off whatever shit you were going to eat and he—though still heavily untrusting—ordered something that looked at least half-way decent. He didn’t know why he pulled out his card, he should have made you pay for your own food. You certainly seemed quick to raise an eyebrow about it.
“Thanks…” was your reply when he handed you the bag.
“Don’t thank me, it wasn't for you.” He didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh, but he couldn’t have you thinking he was going soft. He couldn’t have you seeing the things he was doing to you in his head.
“Fine. I take it back… Asshole.” You muttered the last bit, but he was too preoccupied with pulling into one of the stalls in the back without hitting another car to care.
“If you spill anything you’ll be cleaning out this car until I’m satisfied.” He huffed.
“Men and their stupid cars,” you rolled your eyes, reaching into the bag. You shoved it into his chest when you had your burger and fries. He didn’t miss the way you leaned the seat back and pulled your knees up to your breasts. Katsuki could have never done that—especially not in this tiny ass car.
“Excuse me for taking care of my things, I know you have trouble with that.”
Your eyes narrowed and your hand lifted the sandwich up to your mouth stilled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Katsuki didn’t bother checking to see if you were seriously irritated. “I thought you were smart. Figure it out.”
“Why not just tell me? Scared?”
Scared?
He had to bite into his food to contain the smirk that threatened to appear across his face.
You were so adorably ignorant.
…
you
He was strong—his arms wrapped around your body like he might break you while at the same time pulling you down on his hardened length. You screamed—tears streaming down your cheeks. He was so big—God it hurt—it hurt like hell, you could only swallow and take it.
“Oh yes,” he groaned, “such a good girl,” his face was flushed, but he acted as if he was in complete control. His gentle handling was nothing like what you had expected. His thumb brushed against your cheek, wiping away your tears while his other hands pressed into your back, forcing you down on his cock. “You’re doing so well,” he assured. “So well taking me like this.”
Your hands pressed into his chest, holding onto him like you would disappear if you didn’t. God—he felt amazing, he was filling you so well.
“Let me use you, okay?” He moved your thighs, over his lap, simulating your body as if you were riding him of your own free will. His voice was soothing—the completely opposite of what his words actually meant. But the room was dark and he was both hard and soft—and in your stomach.
His pace gradually sped up as your virgin hole attempted to get used to him. You were moaning into his neck now, wrapping your arms around his neck, walls sucking him in like it was always meant to be this way.
A shiver ran over you, and you were starting to grind against him, wanting him as close to you as physically possible. Your thighs were iron tight around his lap in this chair—the only sounds audible: the squelching of your juices, his heavy breathing, and your constant whimpers.
Fuck—
“AHH!”
You sat up, eyes wide, hair a mess and pushed yourself back, hitting your head against the headboard.
“What the hell!?”
“Language.”
Katsuki Bakugo, your housemate, father’s friend, and employer. And apparently a major dick in the morning. “It’s too early for this.” You shifted back down, ignoring his hard gaze—your heart fell into your stomach—were you just having a sex dream about him?
No way—it was blurry, there was no face, there was no way it was him— “Get up.”
“Ohhh—” You winced and lifted your arms over your face when he ripped the curtains open.
“Up,” he said. “Now.”
His expression left no room for debate—but still. What time was it? Too fucking early.
You rubbed the crust out of your eyes and yawned, stomach already rumbling. “Make me breakfast.”
He scoffed. “Do I look like a servant?”
You took his question into mock consideration, assessing his black dress shirt and matching slacks. “You look like the owner of a secret orgry club.” The face he made had your stomach aching from more than hunger. “You should see your face!”
“Can you ever just be decent? Or is acting like a libertine your specialty?”
“Maybe you’re just taking being a prude too far.”
The old man scoffed like it wasn’t true. Then he paused, expression turning flat. “Get up. Get dressed. We’re leaving in an hour.”
“An hour?” You groaned, throwing your head back against your pillow.
You would have stayed in bed a while longer, but you knew he wasn’t joking—and if you wanted to eat, shower, and fix your disheveled appearance decent, you would have to listen and get the fuck up. But damn was it annoying.
You stood and in the clothes you had thrown on the night before. You’d been too tired last night to do anything more than rinse off. Another yawn fell from your mouth as you made your way to the common bathroom. It sat on the other side of the hall, closer to the stairs than your room—as for your room, the old man’s wasn’t too far from it, just a few feet away at the very end of the hall.
Yours was big, but he was bigger, now that wouldn’t have bothered you much if you didn’t have to shower across the hall while he got to stay in the comfort of his four walls. But if you complained he might make you run laps again—you still couldn’t believe he’d made you do that. The absolute audacity! He knew you weren’t a child right? He’d said it himself, you weren’t helpless—
A frown tugged your expression downward. You had expected last night to go a whole lot different than how it did. You had been so sure Katsuki Bakugo had given in—that he’d let himself be wrapped around your finger. No, apparently he wasn't that easy—but why? You knew you were attractive—and more than that you were a virgin despite how—what was it he had called you? Libertine? Yeah, despite how coquettish he’d claimed you were. You were sure most men—men his age—were attracted to things like that, but maybe you had your fact wrong. It’s not like you had any real experience anyway.
Oh!
Maybe that’s why he was unsure about it. Because he was there—he had to have been.
Maybe the old man preferred his woman's experience. Did he like them older? If that were really the case you were just shit out of luck, weren't you?
You chewed on your thumb as you made your way across the hall, slippers smacking against the hardwood. One of the housemaids, a middle aged woman—with sleek black hair pulled into a bun—watched you from the end of the hall, where the professor had stalked off to. Your lips pressed together of their own accord and you waved awkwardly. She stared, expression unreadable. She hadn’t been the one to show you to your room—that had been a much older lady, maybe in her late 60s or early 70s.
This woman looked much less friendly. Her face screwed up for just a second before she turned away, following the footsteps of her boss. What was her deal? Seriously, it was like you couldn’t catch a fucking break.
The shower pressure was just as sucky as it was in his room. Add that to the growing list of things you needed to fix around this place. Decor. That’s what makes a home feel like a home—and as far as you were concerned, this house was a graveyard.
Hot water dampened your hair until it soaked your naked body. Your eyes fell shut when you tilted your head back, running your fingers through the knotted parts, attempting to untangle them without conditioner. The steam from the shower took over the rest of the bathroom in mere minutes, but still your nipples hardened. You let your fingers travel around your stomach—and then up, feeling yourself up.
If it were him, how would he touch you? His hands would be rough, wouldn't they? His fingers were quite long, would they tease your cunt before forcing their way inside? Your head hit the wall of the shower, knocking you out of your depraved daydream.
“Hurry up!” It was Katsuki—the old man banging on the bathroom door. Your face soured, didn’t he know anything about privacy? He always had to ruin a good time, didn’t he?
Your hand continued down the path of your thigh and your other hand reached up to wrap around your own throat. Between your legs you found you were wet from more than just the shower. God, you were so horny in the morning. A needy whine spilled from your throat when the first inch of your fingers pushed into your pussy.
Another whine threatened to break free when you tightened your hold around your throat. Your thighs clamped around your hand, attempting to ride it without any support. You might’ve been a virgin, but masturbation was nothing new to you.
“Hey.” You froze, hearing the bathroom door slam open. “Did you hear me? You have less than 3 minutes.”
“Busy!” You panted, so incredibly thankful for the shower covering the sound of your dirty actions. Though, having him right outside the curtain like this, while you pleasured yourself to the thought of him—it was hot.
“I’m serious. I’ll drag you out myself if I have to, we will not be late.” His voice was gruff, was he picturing what you looked like right now? Naked and vulnerable? Probably, if the old perv was already comfortable invading your personal space like this.
Would he really pull you out of the shower? Would he not mind how wet and tempting you’d look?
Part of you believed it.
─────────────────────────────────
you
The professor in fact did not pull you out of the shower. Instead, you were nearly late to your first class. You weren’t though! Something he seemed to keep forgetting.
“The next time you make us late—
“We weren’t late—”
“Stop cutting me off—”
You stared.
He stared back.
God he was hot.
It was so unfair.
“Stay here, I’ll be back.”
“Where are you going?” He didn’t reply, he didn’t even look back as he left you in this too big lecture hall. Why had you even expected him to? The man was too full of himself, always acting as if he were better than everyone else in the room. Hot take, being the oldest did not equal being the smartest.
You kicked up your feet and leaned back in his chair, where you sat most of class. There was only one other scheduled, the 16:00 one, and then you could lounge around the house the rest of the day. Whatever Katsuki brought back, he better bring two of them, or you’d steal his.
Katsuki.
It was his first name, though you’d never really used it. There was no special reason, but it sounded weird on your tongue now. Maybe it was the lack of saying it before, but it just felt more intimate.
You opened your mouth, “Ka–” you lifted your fingers to your lips as if it would make it easier, but it sounded just as awkward. You fisted your hands. Again. “Kat-suki…?”
A groan fell out of your throat and you let your head fall back. This was so stupid. Why was it so hard to say his fuckass name?
“Katsuki.” It came out quickly.
Again.
“Katsuki.”
He said your name all the time.
“Katsuki—”
“Oh, are you looking for him too?” Your head snapped up.
“What?”
The man—late thirties at least—chuckled. “Katuski, the old English professor?” This man eyed you with one raised brow. “Is that… his chair?”
“I—”
“Don’t talk to her.” Snapped, again. At this point why not just make a fucking meme out of yourself.
“Katsuki!” The man turned with his hands in the air as if readying for a hug.
“Don’t touch me.”
“Oh, come on.” The professor passed his friend or whoever that man was and slid onto the edge of his desk, something he often did when he was taking attendance. This time, however, he turned toward you, shifting one leg between your own, letting it dangle there as if it owed him something.
His narrowed stare glued you to the seat, even as he slid a bag of candy in front of you.
Something passed between the two of you, though you couldn’t quite name it. He didn’t say the bag was for you, but it was all but implied, and for some reason, felt more intimate than calling him Katsuki.
You blinked, a silent thank you right before the other man cleared his throat. “Is this the assistant you were telling me about?”
The professor’s head turned, expression resigned. “Let’s talk outside.”
“But why?” Brown eyes flickered over to you. He was handsome, but nowhere near as gorgeous as your boss.
“Because I said so.”
His tone garnered no room for protest, and the stranger must have caught that too, because he followed Katsuki without complaint.
Katsuki.
You shook your head, it still felt too weird. But calling him Mr. Bakugo or anything didn’t sound any better.
You took the bag in your hand and ripped into it just as a call came through. Your face soured. Your father. What did he want? Another lecture about how to behave? To respect your elders? Yeah, no thanks. You were good.
He didn’t call back after you declined his first attempt, but moments later, a message did appear across your screen. The first one since your arrival in Japan. Was it the professor? Had he said something to tip your father off about your behavior? No, that didn’t seem like something he would do… But then again, you didn’t know this man. Three nights—if that.
But still, you saw no point in responding—or even looking at the text. If it were really important, he’d have called back, and maybe you would have answered—but he hadn’t.
─────────────────────────────────
katsuki
You were acting strange, strange in a way that Katsuki found himself trying to figure out what was wrong while never wanting to ask you directly.
You had grown popular among the staff in the English Department over the next month, mainly for being his assistant. When he’d agreed to your father’s favor, there had been an underlying rule—one that hadn’t needed to be said out loud. It was obvious you were attractive, just how attractive, Katsuki hadn’t known until the night of your meeting. Then, he’d taken more issue with the way you’d affected him. Now, the issue of how other men are perceiving you is more precedent.
Usually, he diverted questions about you and absolutely refused to introduce any of his colleagues despite how much they tended to beg. Even the youngest of them were too old for you. It was Katuki’s job to take care of you and if that meant blocking certain men from access, then so be it.
He told himself it was normal, that he was just looking out for his friend’s daughter. Though, in reality, that just made it a whole lot worse… At night—when you were washing off, his door remained open, and if he lingered near the front of his room, he’d be able to catch your figure—clad in only a towel—filter across the hall and into your room. You weren’t ever rushing, but still, your room wasn’t that far from the bathroom on the other side.
His eyes travelled from the side of your face to your exposed collarbone, and then down to the parts forbidden.
He took a step back and shut his door. Doing things like this only ensured to fuel the desire he wasn’t permitted. Katsuki knew these thoughts shouldn’t even be something he was trying to suppress, and yet he couldn’t stop them—but he could control them. He would not act on these feelings, he would not lose himself to something so selfish.
But in the back of his mind, whenever he rested his eyes there you were. Your face, your voice, your body—it was all there. He was good at ignoring it during the day; it was easy to forget those thoughts when he was crowded with work. Night is what had him in a bind. He couldn’t not see you—fuck was even starting to smell you now—
“What—”
“Wow, it is really plain.”
Katuski’s eyes narrowed as he watched you step further into his room. What were you— “What are you doing here?”
He didn’t miss the slight smirk that appeared on your lips if only for a moment. “You have a visitor. It’s super late, so I thought it must be important.”
A visitor? This late? He grabbed his phone from his side table and pulled up the camera feed.
“They’re at the gate. I don’t know the password to let them in,” he could see you shrugging from the corner of his eyes, but he was too entranced in the CCTV to say anything.
“Just who…” Katuski’s shoulder’s slumped.
“You don’t look happy at all.”
“Do you enjoy antagonizing me?”
“Very much.” Your reply was quicker than he would have liked, and so he stared at you, irritation showing itself in the form of a vein around his neck. He could feel it bulging, quite like something else that needed taking care of.
“You’re a pain.”
“Sounds endearing.”
He couldn’t deny that. But he could deny the way you were looking at him—eyes lowered, lips pursed in a pretty little put, your expression screamed condescension. You were reducing him to what he kept hidden below his garments, weren’t you? It was perverted, but something he’d expected nonetheless. Your previous advances hadn’t been as conspicuous as you would have liked to believe. Katsuki wasn’t wondering if you were trying to seduce him, he was curious as to why. What were your intentions? To piss off your father? If that were truly the reason, he wanted no part in it.
But if you weren’t… And if you really found him attractive…
Katsuki wrapped a hand around the side of his neck and chanced a glance at you. “Hmm hmm,” you were grinning, of course you were—was there ever a time when you weren’t? Katsuki couldn’t think of one.
He exhaled and his shoulders drooped. “Stay here.”
“If you insist.” Before he could redirect his words to, “Stay in your room,” you threw yourself onto his bed, nuzzling into the side that had already been ruffled by him. He opened his mouth to say something more, but then thought that there would be no point, because all you would do was repeat his words, and that was something Katuski could not take back—much like the favor that had landed him in this situation—he wasn’t a God after all.
He padded down the steps as quickly as he could, fingers already typing out a text to the man he knew sat outside. The code lock sat hidden beneath a painting near the front for. Mostly it was hidden so unwanted people couldn’t invite themselves inside, but Katsuki also didn’t mind how much better the painting looked compared to a silver hatch.
He watched the red car pull up the driveway, parking right beside the garage. “Get in.”
“Read my text.”
He did. And Katsuki saw it the moment disbelief hit his friend—if he could even call this man that. “You’re not serious. Come on, it’s been ages. Let’s go out.”
Katsuki trudged down the steps and leaned over the car's window. “What would your wife say?”
“She’s fine with it, trust me dude.”
“Don’t call me that.” Katsuki’s eyebrows furrowed. They weren’t in high school anymore, hadn't been for a very long time yet Eijiro still seemed to think calling a fourty-three year old man ‘Dude’ was appropriate. “Seriously—”
“Let’s go, we’re not getting any younger!”
“I—
“Wait—you can’t go!”
Katsuki’s heart dropped. He spun around, eyes tracking up the stairs and then up your exposed legs, your cardigan draped over a spaghetti strap. He faced Eijiro once more, intending on explaining before the idiot came up with some sort of perverted conclusion—but the man was… looking away from him? Was that a side eye or…?
“I never expected something like this from you of all people, I guess it can happen to anyone—”
“What are you talking about?”
“Hey, old man, who’s this?”
“No one you need to know about—”
“Eijiro, nice to meet you.”
Annoyance slammed into Katsuki, why were you so eager to talk to every man you met? Did you know what kind of people existed in the world? Had your father not taught you anything about stranger fucking danger? God, if he wasn’t here where the hell would you have ended up? In a back alley with a bunch of thugs? Or worse—he didn’t want to think about worse.
He stepped between you and his old friend, turning his glare onto you and prying your hand away. “I thought I told you to stay in my room.”
You averted your gaze and shrugged, “I got bored.”
“That’s not an excuse.”
“So, you were in Katuski’s room?” Katuki didn’t like the insinuation that came with that question.
“Yep.” You, however, seemed oblivious to what Eijiro was actually asking. No, more like you didn’t care what he thought of your relationship with Katsuki. That desire coaled around his waist—the need to punish you, to put you in your place. He had come close to it a few days ago: Monday night.
It was Friday now, late and Katsuki would have been out without Eijiro trying to force him—but you were here. And for some reason, Katsuki didn’t like leaving you alone at night. He didn’t like leaving you alone period, knowing you could just uber your way anywhere—he wasn’t keen on finding you hooking up with some random person. What if you weren’t careful? What if you fell pregnant? There were just too many cons that came with leaving you, and so Katsuki had accepted that until he found could trust you, he wouldn’t.
“Katsuki—bro, I didn’t know…”
“Don’t make it sound like something it isn’t.” Katsuki’s eyes rolled, “Go home.”
“Come on, your friend can come too.”
“Can I?”
“No.” Katsuki needed to stop whatever this was right now. “Eijiro, I’m serious.”
“When are you not?” Katuki’s eyes narrowed and his teeth bared just slightly. You were being a little brat and you knew it.
“That doesn’t matter. Don’t get into the habit of conversing with strangers.”
“I’m not a stranger.”
“He’s your friend, isn’t he?”
“He’s a stranger to you, and that’s all that matters.”
“Aw, old man, are you worried about me? That’s so sweet.”
Your hands drifted toward his waist, tugging at his fitted shirt, but before you could reach any further he snatched your wrist. “Don’t just go around touching people, either.”
Eijiro whistled and when Katsuki turned his eyes back up, his friend avoided his gaze. Great. Now he’d definitely gotten the wrong idea.
“I’ll leave tonight, Kacchan. But tomorrow, you’re coming with me.” And Katsuki hated the way his eyes turned to smug slits when they so clearly found yours. “And you little lady, you can come too.”
Eijiro left without another word from either party. Katsuki had been stunned into silence, and you—well, he couldn’t know what was going through your head. He was sure, though, that it wasn’t anything good.
─────────────────────────────────
you
“You’re not coming.”
“I’d beg to differ.”
He’d followed you to your room, and now stood in the doorway with his arms crossed. “What are you doing?”
“Well, I can’t just go in my work clothes, now can I?”
“Good thing you don’t have to worry about that. You’re not going.”
The way he enunciated every last word had you scowling as you sifted through your closet. “You can’t tell me what to do, besides, I was invited, wasn’t I? It’d be nice to get out of this stuffy house for a change.”
“You threw out my clothes, you owe me at least this much.”
“I wouldn’t have thrown out your shit if you wouldn’t have put it in my hamper. I told you a month ago you’re not a child and that remains true doesn’t it?”
“Well, it sure doesn’t feel like it with you breathing down my back, telling me what I can and can’t do.”
He went silent after that. You must have hit a nerve, but it wasn’t like you weren’t telling the truth. He was acting as if you were some underaged teenager planning illegal activities. It was such a stupid argument, you couldn’t even begin to contemplate what his goal was.
When you glanced over your shoulder, you found him glaring at you. When wasn’t he glaring at you? It seemed like that’s all he knew how to do. What was it his friend had called him? Oh, that’s right. “Kacchan.” The name felt lighter—easier to say than Professor, and unlike his name, it didn’t hold weight. It was teasing, perfect, especially at getting him to shut up. “What’s wrong? Embarrassed?”
“Hey,” your heart fell into your ass when he appeared behind you, crowding you into your bed.
“Woah—” your nervous laugh was cut short by the look in his eyes. Deep, hungry red eyes. Sin in flesh and bone. That’s what he’d looked like—was he able to to turn it off and on like a switch? He was so close, you could hear his breathing—was he angry? Or was something else… “You should shut the door first to give a lady some privacy…” He evidently did not find your joke at all amusing. He was quiet, but his gaze spoke for him. His pupils dilated as they tracked down your body. “Kacchan?”
“You like testing with me, don’t you?” His voice was thick with something dangerous. “You should be more careful.” He lifted your arms above your head, pinning your wrists down with one hand, using the other to caress your cheek. This is what you had wanted from the very beginning Before you’d known who he was—before he’d drawn a line in the sand because of who you were. If you hadn’t met like this—under any other circumstances, would he have taken you without a second thought? Would he still need to restrain himself? Would you affect him as much as you had been? All those nights he’d ended up not coming home, where had he been? Why did you care—he was a man and nothing more, he was your boss and your father’s friend, and yet you wanted him. More than you were willing to admit to yourself in the moment.
And yet you still found yourself asking him, “Why?” Wanting to be as close to him as possible, wanting to be the only thing he wanted—the only woman he saw—was it all really just lust? Or maybe…
“I’m not a good man.”
“I never claimed you were.” You clocked the moment his jaw locked. He tried to work around it, tried to hide it—you didn’t know why. You knew what your teasing did to him—what the thought of your body did to him. Katsuki Bakugo was a possessive man, and he hadn’t yet realized it—but was it because he was truly worried about the men you were around, or because he couldn’t have you?
The lights in the hallway seemed to dim and the air around you grew strained. His face was inches from yours, pained and frustrating to look at. Why couldn’ t he just give in? Did he know what you were? Did he not like the responsibility of taking a woman’s virginity? If that was the case maybe you could find someone to help with that. Why did it feel like he was always holding back on you—on everyone? Like there were dark thoughts in the deepest parts of his brain he couldn’t let anyone ever see. How dirty did his mind get? How many times this month had he thought of you? Touched himself to you? God, the thought of him trying to keep it a secret was turning you on more than his leg between your thighs.
He shook his head, but his fingers didn't stop. They traced the outline of your throat, and then along your collarbone. He touch was gentle, it was confusing—conflicitng with the hungry expression. A shiver ran up your spine when those eyes found yours once again. An ache built in your stomach, and perhaps it was an accident the way he pushed his knee further into you. But you suspected the opposite was true. “It’s so obvious.” Your voice was no more than a whisper, but it garnered his attention like it always did. “Why hold back?”
He bit out a cold, humorous laugh. “Oh, sweetheart,” his fingers trailed around your pulse, slowly pushing down on it. Your inhale was quick and sharp, almost like your body was telling you not to trust him. Too bad you were tone deaf. “You couldn’t handle me.”
But you could. You knew you could—you had that faith in yourself. “I like when you call me sweetheart.”
His stare burned like he was trying to gauge a reaction, “Don’t get used to it.”
“—Kacchan,” you scoffed at the way his grip tightened around your wrists. They’d likely have bruises blossoming in the morning. “Why do you pretend to know everything about me?” You moved your legs around his waist and pulled him closer. There it was—his cock. It wanted out, it wanted to sink into a needy, tight, little pussy—you could give that to him, why couldn't he understand that? He would fill every inch of you—fuck you could already imagine the feeling. A grunt fell from his mouth, and you knew you had him. He was nearly gone—nearly yours—
“Don’t,” but his voice was strained, and his teeth were bared. “I use women. I don’t care about them when I’m done.” Oh, he was angry now, did he want to reassert dominance? A grin stretched your mouth upward because you had absolutely no problem with that. “You couldn’t handle that…” he paused, eyes tracing every inch of your body, as if he’d never see it again. “Could you?”
Was he really asking that? What kind of woman would subject herself to someone she would never have again? A crazy woman—one with nothing to lose…
Were you that crazy? Did you want him that badly? Could you throw away whatever you might feel for one amazing night? What would living with him be like after? Back to normal? No, whatever this was, it’d never be the same because he was completely serious, and you didn’t know. You’d never had sex—had never had the opportunity to be so intimate with anyone before… Though that never stopped you from fantasizing about it, you knew it wasn’t the same thing. You’d never loved another person—had he? Why did that sour your stomach?
“Thought so.” Apparently your silence was enough. And you hated it.
Hated the way he backed off, the way he released you, expression almost tone of devastation. It looked like it had pained him to let go, but why? Hadn’t this all just been a ploy to get you not to go out or something? Hadn’t he said he’d never touch you that way—so then why did he look so… conflicted?
His gaze remained on yours, but mentally, he had pulled away. You should have said something, you should have told him that it was fine—that you didn’t mind it being a one time thing even if you weren’t sure. But wouldn’t that just be throwing away your self-respect? But you sat up and watched him back toward the door, you thought anything would be better than the way he just left you. Cold, alone, and missing his weight.
Maybe you should have said something…
─────────────────────────────────
katsuki
Was he fucking insane? No, he was just blind, blind to the fact that he wanted you. God, he wanted you so badly and yet everything he’d said remained true. He didn’t care for women in a relationship, sex was a different story, but he didn’t want that. He didn’t want a relationship, he wanted someone who would shove his cock down their throats one night and pretend they’d never met every night after.
Katsuki didn’t fucking do relationships. He’d never been into that kind of shit—he’d been single his entire life and that wasn’t about to change because some horny little twenty-something year old was constantly trying to jump him.
And the thing was, Katsuki would’ve never had a problem with taking you back to one of his hotel rooms. If he had met you in any other circumstance, save for work—he would’ve done exactly that. But he hadn't. And more than that, he knew your father—had promised to take care of you. Is that what he was doing by thinking of you in such ways? By feeling whatever this thing was for you? No, he was wrong for this. No matter how he thought about it, it was wrong.
He wanted to slam his door shut, but how would you take it? Just because he was frustrated with the situation didn’t mean he had to take it out on the things around him. Besides, this house was fairly expensive, and he really didn’t feel like paying for any damages caused for simply having a weak mind.
He needed to work out his cock right now, of course he’d gotten hard, who the fuck wouldn’t? You—you were just something else. He couldn’t explain it to anyone, much less understand it his damn self.
Think of something else.
He told himself.
Just think of anything fucking else.
Something unfuckable. Grannies—fucking Deku. Eijiro—he covered his mouth, stomach flipping sickly at the thought of those two idiots.
It was going down, that was good at least. He could breathe now, finally.
More than half his age, his friend's daughter. Was it the fact that he couldn’t have you that made him want you so? That must have been it, there was no other explanation.
He ran a hand through his hair, matted with sweat, and tugged off his shirt. He needed a shower, he needed to clear his mind—maybe he needed a break from having sex at all. Was that it? That he’d been doing it too much? Was that all he thought about now?
A half scoff, half laugh fell out of his throat. But his work wasn’t impacted—just his need… His desire for you. It had grown over the past month into something monstrous. “Fuck.” This wasn’t helping.
When his hand pressed down on himself, he let out a hiss. It was asking for pussy, but not just any pussy. Why did he do this to himself? Why did he pretend he could have you? Even if you had said yes, there was no way he’d believe that. He knew women—and from what he’d gathered, you weren’t experienced—and there was absolutely no fucking way he was going to help with that.
He needed a drink, and the housekeepers had already gone home for the day which meant he needed to go get it himself. And chance running into you again? It wasn’t like he could avoid you, this was so incredibly childish of him and yet here he was, sticking his head out the crack in his door to make sure you were still safely tucked in your room.
It was an odd choice of wording, like you wouldn’t be safe if you did come out into the hall, which was completely untrue. Katuski wasn’t that kind of man—he’d never do anything against your will… Unless you liked that kind of thing— No. He had to stop thinking about you in a sexual aspect—in any aspect. Where the hell was that bourbon again? In the cellar? Nah, he’d keep it closer on hand. Fuck, why couldn’t he remember? His bulge wasn’t growing any smaller.
In the kitchen, the lights were off, but that was fine—light or no light, he knew his way around his house, he’d owned it for over fifteen years; it'd be embarrassing if he didn’t. In the safe behind the painting of the Itsukushima Shrine, then. Yeah, it had to be there.
His phone went off before he’d gotten across the kitchen, but he only looked at the message after typing in the seven digit code.
Something’s up with you.
22:19
Kill yourself.
22:20
He set his phone onto the bar beside the old bottle and headed for the cabinets behind him. Diamond cut lowball glasses sat in a neat row on the lowest shelf. He plucked one off and spun around, intent on adding ice.
Katsuki knew he was right, it wasn’t a good idea for you to go tomorrow. It wasn’t a good idea for anyone—he knew especially for him. Because what he would do if he saw anymore of your exposed limbs—or rather if anyone else got a glimpse at what was—
He stopped himself. What the hell was he saying? You weren’t property. You weren’t even his to claim. And yet, his cock couldn’t seem to take a fucking hint. He growled, forcing the cork off with a metal screw. He couldn’t get the whiskey in the glass fast enough before throwing it back in four giant gulps.
Christ, he wiped his lips, cock still trying to burst through his pants, he was fucked.
He was glad Eijiro hadn’t texted back, it made it easier to ignore what he’d said, and what he knew was true.
Katsuki scrolled through a few work emails, RSVPing a few meetings he had no choice but to attend. If he could get out of that shit, he would. At least you didn’t have to attend—most of the men there didn’t know how to keep their eyes to themselves, and Katsuki really didn’t feel like losing his job because he’d punched one of his colleagues over your dignity. He was a knight in shining armor, he wasn’t defending you because you deserve it or anything—as selfish as it was, he did it for himself. Because he hated the thought of another man thinking he could get away with internally fucking you. Not if he had anything to say about it.
Kacchan.
You had called him Kacchan.
Hearing his childhood nickname fall from your slips hadn’t been something he’d expected. It was terrifying, how warm he’d felt… It’d taken everything in him to not react, but part of him knew his silence had tipped you off anyway.
It was annoying, fuck—you were annoying. You affected him—you did, and he couldn’t have you. He had to go on knowing this face no matter how many times you threw yourself at him or how many times he nearly lost control, he could never have you the way he wanted, and fuck if it didn’t hurt.
Why couldn’t you have just been a guy? It would have made this whole situation much fucking easier because then he wouldn’t be sitting at his fucking kitchen counter drinking his emergency stash of fucking bourbon.
He sighed into his newly filled glass, the strong sweetness of the alcohol filled his senses, but all he could smell was you, and your hair. He’d been so close to you—so close so many times, and now he couldn’t get that damn smell out of his head.
If you were a guy, he would’ve never gotten that close. If you were a man, he wouldn’t be questioning his morality every waking second, and he certainly wouldn’t be dreaming of plunging his veiny cock into your tight little cunt.
───────────────────────────────────────
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Satoru won't admit just how much he loves the sight of his own pearly white cum dripping down Sukuna's thick, veiny shaft - straight down from your pretty, stuffed full cunt, right onto those dark tattoos at the base of it.
He can't really admit that out loud, how sexy the sight is, how you're whining out and gushing has them both pulsing as they rub together inside you. How the sight of Sukuna's big hands gripping your hips and your head falling back look.
Pretty thighs shaking as Satoru pumps his cock gently into your cunt, the tip catching the spot in your walls and Sukuna's piercing, making Satoru whine out.
"Toru," you are arching, cunt struggling to take them, his hand slips down your spine carefully, leaving little goosebumps as Sukuna laughs softly.
"Did you whimper like a lil bitch, Gojo?"
"You have my cum on you," Sukuna glares over your shoulder at him - and you just giggle all breathless, sandwiched between these two huge ass men, feeling Sukuna pulse as Satoru eases out with a filthy, wet squelch. "Hah - all over."
"Fuck off!? don't tell me that, tch," he buries his face in your neck, feeling your slick pool along his flat abdomen, soaking him. "Gonna squirt all for us, brat?"
"Mhm, ah!' Satoru is rubbing the fat pink tip of his cock down your slit and right onto Sukuna's cock, catching the cum that fell down Sukuna, making the pink haired man jerk and throb inside your hole.
"Fuck..." he is grumbling, kissing you messy, Satoru eases the white cum back inside, still hard, fucking it back into you with little kisses along the back of your shoulders. "Don't rub it on me, freak."
"You seem to like it," you tease - getting your nipple bit hard. "What!?"
"I do not," Satoru chuckles now, lips moving up your neck, careful not to hurt you as two thick cocks struggle to move inside, Sukuna starts fucking you from below, as Satoru lets him, just holding you, moaning at the feeling - already sensitive.
"I don't either, it's just for you, sweetheart," Satoru says - you don't believe either of them one damn bit - but they feel so good stretching you out to the brink of pain, you just let them argue, bicker, you're too full of them to care. "Gonna cum again for us?"
"Y-yeah," you breathe out, nails pressing into Sukuna's chest when he moves faster, moaning and sinking his fingernails into your skin, leaving marks as he busts, all that warm cum flooding your cunt - making you squirt right as he pulls back, his cum dripping right on Satoru, only making him fill you with another creampie. "So much!"
"You can take it," Sukuna mumbles, smacking on one of your hips, as you're shaking, he won't admit that Satoru's cum mixing with his in your cunt has him dripping even more. He also doesn't admit just how pretty the sight is of their cocks coated in your slick, sliding out of you. "Hah - now my cum is on you."
"And you like it, hmm?" Satoru has the audacity to blow Sukuna a kiss - and you just blink.
Sukuna is gonna fucking kill him.
"What!? No, I don't!?"
Satoru's diving down to clean their messes up, though - tongue lapping at the white drooling from your puffy folds - and if Sukuna's cock twitches watching this dumb, white haired man he has to share you with lick his own cum? Well you didn't see it!
this will be my first knktober! i'm incredibly excited and i hope you are too ;)
OCTOBER 1 first time satoru gojo
OCTOBER 2 one night kei tsukishima
OCTOBER 3 spanking kakashi hatake
OCTOBER 4 overstimulation ryomen sukuna
OCTOBER 5 bondage shoto todoroki
OCTOBER 6 thighgasm wakatoshi ushijima
OCTOBER 7 deepthroating tobio kageyama
OCTOBER 8 predator/prey itachi uchiha
OCTOBER 9 aphrodisiac seishiro nagi
OCTOBER 10 breathplay sasuke uchiha
OCTOBER 11 age gap satoru gojo
OCTOBER 12 bratting kakashi hatake
OCTOBER 13 begging seishiro nagi
OCTOBER 14 power play kakashi hatake
OCTOBER 15 hate sex satoru gojo
OCTOBER 16 mind control ryomen sukuna
OCTOBER 17 exhibitionism daichi sawamura ft. koshi sugawara
OCTOBER 18 roleplay katsuki bakugo
OCTOBER 19 pornstar shoto todoroki
OCTOBER 20 pseudo-incest itachi uchiha
OCTOBER 21 predicament shoto todoroki
OCTOBER 22 creampie satoru gojo
OCTOBER 23 cnc tobio kageyama
OCTOBER 24 masochisim katsuki bakugo
OCTOBER 25 stalking shoto todoroki
OCTOBER 26 cumdump sasuke uchiha
OCTOBER 27 blackmail wakatoshi ushijima
OCTOBER 28 fuck or die ryomen sukuna
OCTOBER 29 agoraphilia wakatoshi ushijima
OCTOBER 30 petplay kei tsukishima
OCTOBER 31 costumes katsuki bakugo
as a college graduate, your father pushed you to leave the country. why? because you won’t leave his house otherwise. Japan, he said, is perfect, and you wouldn’t have to worry about getting a job because he had everything already covered. you should have asked why. you should have pressed him more before agreeing. because now, you’re stuck living with his old friend from high school, who also happens to be your new boss.
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ㅤ♡ professor!katsuki x friendsdaughter!reader
ㅤ♡ modern au
ㅤ♡ nsfw romance-MDNI ⋆ 20+ age gap ⋆ switching povs ⋆ calls you 'little girl' +
'brat' + sarcastically 'princess' ⋆ jealous!suki ⋆ eye-fucking ⋆ more tags on ao3
ㅤ♡ 10.1k
ㅤ♡ a/n lol i did not edit this
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ㅤchapter one ⏮ chapter two ⏭
───────────────────────────────────────
katsuki
His gaze caught yours in an instant. What the fuck were you doing here?
Katsuki cleared his throat and reframed the sentence he had just stumbled over. He swiveled back to the board and wrote down a word that was not in his notes. “Autocracy.” He said, “What does it mean?”
It wasn’t long before a few hands shot up. He picked the first person that had acted. “Autocracy,” they repeated, it was a woman—early 20s. “To hold absolute power.”
“Yes,” he affirmed, leaning beside the word on the chalkboard with his arms crossed, “but what else?"
Another hand—this time a man, around the same age as the last student.
“Go on,” Katsuki nodded, hoping you were listening.
“The power in question is only held by one person, such as a monarch or dictator.”
“Very good,” he purred, eyes circling where you thought you were invisible. Katsuki tapped his fingers against the board. “Did everyone hear that? If you didn’t know before, now you do.” He huffed and tossed the chalk onto the podium. “Autocracy. That is what I have over this class.” And over you. However, it was clear you still weren’t getting it. Apparently he would have to be more clear about that.
He went quiet for a moment, mind reeling at all the ways he could have you begging.
“Heres another word for you,” he paused, "...Susceptible…” his eyes wandered up through his eyelashes, eyes finding yours once more. “What does it mean?”
Hands went up across the class, but he was waiting, watching, and then—instead of calling on someone—Katsuki walked down the stage steps, around the stage, and up the middle aisle. You were two seats into the row—he could see you visibly stiffen as he approached.
You kept your head down, tugging some of your hair in front of your face in an attempt to hide yourself. It was cute, in a way that was completely useless. “You.” His voice was eerily calm, even he was a little surprised
Katsuki leaned his body over the seat, hoping his looming presence would scare you into looking up…
It did.
“Sir?” Your tone was squeaky, like you had to clear your throat or something.
“What’s the definition?”
Though his focus was undeniably on you, he could feel how tension passed from student to student until the entire lecture hall was holding its breath.
“Do you not know?—” Katsuki felt his shit eating grin before it appeared. He knew he’d gotten to you with the way your head jerked upward, as if you were trying to look down on him. There was credit due here somewhere; you were so stubborn.
“Susceptible,” you repeated, “what a person is when they are easily influenced or harmed.”
“Good.” he cooed, “You lot are very smart.” He turned back around, speaking to the entire class now. When he turned back to you he raised an eyebrow. “Whya re you sitting so far from the rest of your peers? Sit closer next time.”
Katsuki turned, not exactly dragging his feet down the steps but getting very close to it only to be stopped by a tug on his shirt. “Professor?” One of his eyebrows twitched and he cocked his head to the side, watching you from the corner of his eye. “There was another thing, about the word I mean.”
Katsuki’s jaw locked, but he accepted your challenge readily. “So,” he peered down at you, hoping you felt smaller than you actually were under his gaze. “What else?”
You reached out, pointing at something on his shirt. He looked down, trying to catch what it was. However, rather than seeing a stain or wrinkle, it was your finger in his face and then tapping his nose. “A person who is easily influenced, harmed, or…”
You paused and he could tell it was only for dramatic effect. The class seemed to be watching intently now. He’d thought this would be fun at first, but now he knew he had to put an end to your stupid little, if he was reported fraternizing with a student like this—even if you technically weren’t a student—would give people the wrong idea about him.
“Affected by something.”
“You’re right.” Katsuki nodded, taking a step back. “That was overlooked on my part.”
He spun around, attempting to scurry down the steps. You probably didn’t even know what you were doing, what it would look like if he stayed bickering with you for even a moment longer. Katsuki knew better than anyone that at a certain point, arguing became flirting. It was his favorite kind.
He froze when your shoulder collided with his and you moved past him.
“Are you affected, Professor?”
Your whisper tickled his ear and he had to clamp a hand over it to keep it from turning red. What the hell was that? His red eyes darted around the room, hoping no one else had heard.
This was too much.
You were too much.
But damnit if you weren't good. Using his own strategy against him? If only he hadn’t forgotten the rest of that definition. Jesus—what was it about you that slowed the speed of the gears in his brain? Katsuki cursed internally and moved back down to the stage, catching the way you slid into a seat closer to the front.
He allowed the class to move into its final thirty minutes before dismissing everyone early. It wasn’t just that he was out of material, it was that he could no longer concentrate, not when you were watching him and he couldn’t watch you. It wasn’t fair, you shouldn’t be able to do what you wanted after you had explicitly disobeyed him. No, he wasn’t your father. So why were you acting like such a brat? Why was it so difficult for you to just listen? You were doing it on purpose, he had no doubt about that—but why? Because he’d said you couldn’t attend the fucking class? It was one class a week—two hours.
“You—” he watched you freeze midway through standing. “Come here.”
The rest of the class scurried out, probably wondering what had him so irked, but not being curious enough to stay and find out. Good. He didn’t want anyone else to see what he was about to make you do.
“So, ride home together or—”
You cut yourself off when Katsuki tugged you toward im by your wrist. He shoved you against his desk, his laptop still open and on the presentation site. “You like this don’t you?” He didn’t wait for an answer, choosing to tug your head up by your hair, forcefully exposing your throat. Katsuki leaned his head down, breathing in your scent. “Did you use my soap again?”
Your hands reached out to grab his arms, but he was stronger, and he was a lot taller than most his age—and not just that. With his broad shoulders and flexed muscles, he was bigger too. He wondered if you’d ever been with someone as big as him. That fucking bastard, even if you hadn’t he hated the idea of someone else having you.
It was sick.
Katsuki was sick.
He had to calm down. He had to breathe, that was the only way he could keep his dignity. “Disobecidence deserves punishment.” He saw the shiver that danced over your exposed skin, it had him smiling to himself. Maybe you did affect Katsuki more than he’d like to admit, but the same could be said about you.
Still, as obstinate as you were, Katsuki knew all the ways to break little girls like you.
─────────────────────────────────
you
He was hovering over you, chest pressing into yours, one leg forced between your thighs. Was he really about to do this? Was it really that easy? A day and he was already giving in? Were you just that good or was he just so weak? A grin crawled its way onto your lips and you stopped fighting him. Instead, you wrapped your fingers around his tie and tugged him closer. “I know you’re really mad at me right now,” you hummed, “but if I apologized, would you forgive me?” You toyed with his collar, adoring the way he tensed under your touch. Your head lifted before your eyes did, “Professor Bakugo?”
He smacked away your palm and took several steps back, nearly falling on his ass when his calves hit the stage wall. You tilted your head and pushed yourself onto his desk, dangling your legs back and forth.
“Your monologue at the beginning of class was hilarious, by the way.” One of your hands found a pen beside your thigh. “But please tell me you don’t seriously do that for every class.”
His hands flexed and you could see his jaw locking, those gears in his mind began twisting as if he was trying to figure out what to do with you.
You weren't afraid of him, but maybe you should have been. Oh well.
“So, Professor,” you leaned forward on your knees. “Why’s this class so important? Or is it not important at all? And you really were just trying to piss me off?”
“I wasn’t—” Katsuki breathed in. He looked angry or confused—you couldn’t decide.
Your neck lolled to the side and you yawned. “If that wasn’t it, then what? Tell me, I want to know.” You felt a snort building in your throat when he stepped toward you.
“It doesn’t matter because this is the last time you will be attending.”
“You know, I’m starting to think you don’t actually like me.” The annoying part was that, that was actually true. You really couldn’t know what he was thinking, if his expectations of you didn’t match quite up to the person you were. Ouch. Hurting your own feelings would do you no good.
“Who said that?” His lips curled up in a cruel grin when his hand landed on your shoulder, more gentle than you were anticipating. “Do you remember what I told you?” His fingers trailed over your jawn and your lips parted. “Autocracy.”
His breath coated your lips and you couldn’t help but press your thighs together.
“That is what I have.” His thumb—large and tough—passed over your pulse. “And Susceptible. That is what you are when it comes to me.”
“So then, are you going to punish me, Professor?”
His face screwed up and his hands fell from your face. “Don’t call me that.”
“What should I call you then?”
His eyes darted down at the brown leather watch on his wrist before meeting your gaze once more. How would he begin? By making you remove your clothes? Forcing you to lift up your skirt? Would he pleasure himself to you and make you watch all the while your arousal grew? Make you watch him without ever touching you? Just how would he hurt you? “I’ve already told you.” His glare was almost as strong as your amusement. Why was he so serious? He needed to loosen up.
“Could you tell me again?” Your fingers travelled up his arms, he was so damning. Your thighs pressed together and you could feel the wetness dampening your panties.
“I am not your friend.” He’d told you that last night, Rule Two.”
“I don’t want you to be.” You pulled him lower, wrapping your legs around his waist. You could feel his growing arousal. You wanted to moan, but for some reason you thought that would turn him away. He was huge—just how long would it take him? Fuck. You bit your lip at the thought—a great deal of filthy images merging into each other in your mind.
He was warm and he smelled like all the vulgar fantasies you'd ever thought up. Right here against his desk, would he really do it? Align himself, choke you while he made you take him? Would he talk you through it or whisper unseemly things meant for no one else but you?
“You should watch what you say.” His jaw tightened like he was actively trying to hold himself back. But why? Why couldn't he just give in? Why couldn’t he just hurt you the way you wanted to be hurt?
“Why?” You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “You want me right? I can feel it through your pants, so there's no need to lie.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He growled, wrinkled forming around his narrowed eyes. Jesus, could he be anymore attractive? Already you were imagining how he would feel inside you, what were his favorite positions? What type of woman did he prefer? Meek, shy ones he could control? Or did he like women like you? Women who shot off insults like it was flirting, woman who needed to be put in their place, woman he could fuck the brat out of?
God you hoped it was the ladder.
Maybe he liked the innocent religious girls, or the kind, basic ones—no. Katsuki Bakugo wasn’t the basic type—it was right there in his hungry stare. He liked to be in control, there was no even ground when it came to being him. He always had to be in control. That was how he fucked.
“Tell me then,” you toyed with his tie. “Tell me what you want.”
“Stop,” he said even as his hips pushed into you.
“I’m not doing anything.” You strained your thighs, growing impatient. Couldn’t he see how needy you were? Why wasn’t he just giving in already? What was stopping him? Did he really have a girlfriend or something? If so, why hadn’t you seen her? Why did he not mention her before?
“You know exactly what you’re doing.” His voice was sharp and cold, and his hands were moving before you could realize the situation. You were on your back in an instant, beneath his hard chest. He hovered over you, crotch pressing further into your pussy through your skirt. “And you’re really starting to piss me off. That’s Three Rules.”
“So punish me.”
A cruel snarl curled his lips upward to his lips. “Don’t worry, Princess. I will.”
You expected his hands to infiltrate your entrance—to taste up your thigh before unbuckling his belt and yanking his bruised, throbbing cock out. Onto your knees, like that image before in the Airport. You were anticipating this—for your first time, you had surely picked the right person. With decades of experience on you. God—was this what a craving was? Were you craving him?
There was another word for this—something dangerously close to the word love—but you didn’t know this man. You met him just last night—and here he was, already having you lust after him.
Your mouth fell open—just slightly—when his fingers traced your bottom lip. You wanted to choke on it, to be filled with every part of him until your vision blurred. You breathed through your nose when he wrenched you off his desk.
─────────────────────────────────
katsuki
There were so many things he could have done to you right then and there. So many things he wanted to do to you and he had come close—so close to doing all the ungodly things that had drifted into his mind.
“How much longer?” You came to a stop in front of him, hands braced against your knees as you attempted to catch your breath.
Katsuki checked his watch. “Five minutes.”
“Man,” you groaned, “This is so unfair.”
“Keep running,” he hummed, leaning back against his desk, stuffing his hands back into his pockets. He was enjoying this probably more than he would have enjoyed fucking you. Your angry little outbursts every few minutes, your energy slowly being drained—he loved every second of your misery.
“Asshole.”
“What was that?”
“Nothing!”
The time ticked by, five more minutes of you running around the lecture hall in that skimpy little outfit you thought was cute. His eye twitched when his phone pinged. A message—
He froze.
Your father’s name crossed his screen.
Right. Your father. His friend. His friend’s daughter. He had to grip the edge of his desk to balance himself.
How are you?
22:04
Fine.
22:04
You?
22:04
Doing well over here.
22:05
How is she? Getting used to Japan yet?
22:05
Katsuki’s jaw locked.
22:05
It’s only been a few days.
22:05
Right. I guess she must still be mad at me huh? 22:06
What could he say? You hadn’t mentioned your father once since meeting Katsuki, therefore he had no clue as to how you felt about your father. And more than that, he didn’t really think it was his place to get between your relationship even if his intentions were good—which they usually weren’t, but still.
“I’m starving!” Katsuki’s gaze snapped up to where you were, rounding the center of the hall. He couldn’t quite see it, but he knew you must have been sweating balls.
“Fine.” He grabbed his bag, “Let’s go.”
He walked past you, up the stairs, not missing the, “Wait for real?” That came after.
Your father hadn’t texted him again, he was thankful for that because he didn’t know what to say. You trailed behind him, but it was like he could see you, walking with a little pep in your step. Did you hate your father? Was it because he had made you come to Japan? Or was it something else?
Katsuki shook his head, he was overstepping. This wasn’t any of his business. Regardless of whatever your feelings were toward his old friend, he was responsible for you now. Him and only him—and maybe that was a little selfish, but he would sooner die than admit that to anyone—even himself. So it stayed nuzzled in the back of his mind, praying nobody found it.
“Let’s get McDonalds.” Katsuki’s face scrunched up when he slid into his driver seat.
“McDonalds?”
“What? You don’t like it?” He’d never been fond of fast food—it weakened the body and who knew what came from international food sources. He just couldn’t be exactly sure what he was eating.
“Let’s get something—
“Too bad!” You huffed, falling back against his passenger seat. “That’s what I’m craving right now.” He buckled his seatbelt and then watched you incredulously. “Go on,” you motioned with one hand, “Drive.”
Despite being irked, Katsuki moved the gearshift into reverse and pulled out of the campus. “You need to learn better manners. Did your parents never teach you or what?” Katsuki checked his rearview mirror before switching lanes.
There were plenty of cheap, fast food restaurants around the university. He’d been in multiple situations where he’d had to throw out students for eating this garbage in his class. It stunk up the place and made it hard to focus. He couldn’t believe he was intentionally pulling into one of their parking lots. What if one of his old students caught him ordering? He’d been very vocal about his distaste for these kinds of places—and yet here he was being a hypocrite.
Damn it was annoying. “We are not going inside.”
“Is there a drive thru?” You poked your head toward the rolled up window.
Katsuki blinked at what he wanted to call 20-year-old stupidity, but giving you the benefit of the doubt, maybe you were just really tired and hungry. He hoped that was all it was and that you didn’t actually think Tokyo didn’t have drive thru’s.
He pulled into the parking lot and around the side of the building, careful to keep his eyes in front of him and not on you. He’d made that mistake last night and he had a full day tomorrow—he couldn’t do it again.
He shivered when he rolled the window down, hoping a fucking mosquito didn’t think it was an invitation. “Hello, can I take your order?”
He squinted, pushing his glasses higher onto his nose. “Uhm—
“Wait, let me order.” Katsuki shot you a glare, but that didn’t seem to deter you, in fact it was as if you hadn’t seen it at all—that or you had just ignored it…
Yeah, he wouldn’t put it past you.
You leaned over the middle console, your arm pushing your breast up through your shirt. He forced his eyes away, back on the menu—jsut anywhere but you. But that wasn’t enough because he could still smell you. Sweat and something sweet. It had his mouth watering—he had to stop that. He couldn’t be treating you like this even if you were asking for it. He might have not been a gentleman, but Katsuki had a line he wouldn’ t cross, and unfortunately you sat on the other side of it.
He could finally breathe again when you spouted off whatever shit you were going to eat and he—though still heavily untrusting—ordered something that looked at least half-way decent. He didn’t know why he pulled out his card, he should have made you pay for your own food. You certainly seemed quick to raise an eyebrow about it.
“Thanks…” was your reply when he handed you the bag.
“Don’t thank me, it wasn't for you.” He didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh, but he couldn’t have you thinking he was going soft. He couldn’t have you seeing the things he was doing to you in his head.
“Fine. I take it back… Asshole.” You muttered the last bit, but he was too preoccupied with pulling into one of the stalls in the back without hitting another car to care.
“If you spill anything you’ll be cleaning out this car until I’m satisfied.” He huffed.
“Men and their stupid cars,” you rolled your eyes, reaching into the bag. You shoved it into his chest when you had your burger and fries. He didn’t miss the way you leaned the seat back and pulled your knees up to your breasts. Katsuki could have never done that—especially not in this tiny ass car.
“Excuse me for taking care of my things, I know you have trouble with that.”
Your eyes narrowed and your hand lifted the sandwich up to your mouth stilled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Katsuki didn’t bother checking to see if you were seriously irritated. “I thought you were smart. Figure it out.”
“Why not just tell me? Scared?”
Scared?
He had to bite into his food to contain the smirk that threatened to appear across his face.
You were so adorably ignorant.
…
you
He was strong—his arms wrapped around your body like he might break you while at the same time pulling you down on his hardened length. You screamed—tears streaming down your cheeks. He was so big—God it hurt—it hurt like hell, you could only swallow and take it.
“Oh yes,” he groaned, “such a good girl,” his face was flushed, but he acted as if he was in complete control. His gentle handling was nothing like what you had expected. His thumb brushed against your cheek, wiping away your tears while his other hands pressed into your back, forcing you down on his cock. “You’re doing so well,” he assured. “So well taking me like this.”
Your hands pressed into his chest, holding onto him like you would disappear if you didn’t. God—he felt amazing, he was filling you so well.
“Let me use you, okay?” He moved your thighs, over his lap, simulating your body as if you were riding him of your own free will. His voice was soothing—the completely opposite of what his words actually meant. But the room was dark and he was both hard and soft—and in your stomach.
His pace gradually sped up as your virgin hole attempted to get used to him. You were moaning into his neck now, wrapping your arms around his neck, walls sucking him in like it was always meant to be this way.
A shiver ran over you, and you were starting to grind against him, wanting him as close to you as physically possible. Your thighs were iron tight around his lap in this chair—the only sounds audible: the squelching of your juices, his heavy breathing, and your constant whimpers.
Fuck—
“AHH!”
You sat up, eyes wide, hair a mess and pushed yourself back, hitting your head against the headboard.
“What the hell!?”
“Language.”
Katsuki Bakugo, your housemate, father’s friend, and employer. And apparently a major dick in the morning. “It’s too early for this.” You shifted back down, ignoring his hard gaze—your heart fell into your stomach—were you just having a sex dream about him?
No way—it was blurry, there was no face, there was no way it was him— “Get up.”
“Ohhh—” You winced and lifted your arms over your face when he ripped the curtains open.
“Up,” he said. “Now.”
His expression left no room for debate—but still. What time was it? Too fucking early.
You rubbed the crust out of your eyes and yawned, stomach already rumbling. “Make me breakfast.”
He scoffed. “Do I look like a servant?”
You took his question into mock consideration, assessing his black dress shirt and matching slacks. “You look like the owner of a secret orgry club.” The face he made had your stomach aching from more than hunger. “You should see your face!”
“Can you ever just be decent? Or is acting like a libertine your specialty?”
“Maybe you’re just taking being a prude too far.”
The old man scoffed like it wasn’t true. Then he paused, expression turning flat. “Get up. Get dressed. We’re leaving in an hour.”
“An hour?” You groaned, throwing your head back against your pillow.
You would have stayed in bed a while longer, but you knew he wasn’t joking—and if you wanted to eat, shower, and fix your disheveled appearance decent, you would have to listen and get the fuck up. But damn was it annoying.
You stood and in the clothes you had thrown on the night before. You’d been too tired last night to do anything more than rinse off. Another yawn fell from your mouth as you made your way to the common bathroom. It sat on the other side of the hall, closer to the stairs than your room—as for your room, the old man’s wasn’t too far from it, just a few feet away at the very end of the hall.
Yours was big, but he was bigger, now that wouldn’t have bothered you much if you didn’t have to shower across the hall while he got to stay in the comfort of his four walls. But if you complained he might make you run laps again—you still couldn’t believe he’d made you do that. The absolute audacity! He knew you weren’t a child right? He’d said it himself, you weren’t helpless—
A frown tugged your expression downward. You had expected last night to go a whole lot different than how it did. You had been so sure Katsuki Bakugo had given in—that he’d let himself be wrapped around your finger. No, apparently he wasn't that easy—but why? You knew you were attractive—and more than that you were a virgin despite how—what was it he had called you? Libertine? Yeah, despite how coquettish he’d claimed you were. You were sure most men—men his age—were attracted to things like that, but maybe you had your fact wrong. It’s not like you had any real experience anyway.
Oh!
Maybe that’s why he was unsure about it. Because he was there—he had to have been.
Maybe the old man preferred his woman's experience. Did he like them older? If that were really the case you were just shit out of luck, weren't you?
You chewed on your thumb as you made your way across the hall, slippers smacking against the hardwood. One of the housemaids, a middle aged woman—with sleek black hair pulled into a bun—watched you from the end of the hall, where the professor had stalked off to. Your lips pressed together of their own accord and you waved awkwardly. She stared, expression unreadable. She hadn’t been the one to show you to your room—that had been a much older lady, maybe in her late 60s or early 70s.
This woman looked much less friendly. Her face screwed up for just a second before she turned away, following the footsteps of her boss. What was her deal? Seriously, it was like you couldn’t catch a fucking break.
The shower pressure was just as sucky as it was in his room. Add that to the growing list of things you needed to fix around this place. Decor. That’s what makes a home feel like a home—and as far as you were concerned, this house was a graveyard.
Hot water dampened your hair until it soaked your naked body. Your eyes fell shut when you tilted your head back, running your fingers through the knotted parts, attempting to untangle them without conditioner. The steam from the shower took over the rest of the bathroom in mere minutes, but still your nipples hardened. You let your fingers travel around your stomach—and then up, feeling yourself up.
If it were him, how would he touch you? His hands would be rough, wouldn't they? His fingers were quite long, would they tease your cunt before forcing their way inside? Your head hit the wall of the shower, knocking you out of your depraved daydream.
“Hurry up!” It was Katsuki—the old man banging on the bathroom door. Your face soured, didn’t he know anything about privacy? He always had to ruin a good time, didn’t he?
Your hand continued down the path of your thigh and your other hand reached up to wrap around your own throat. Between your legs you found you were wet from more than just the shower. God, you were so horny in the morning. A needy whine spilled from your throat when the first inch of your fingers pushed into your pussy.
Another whine threatened to break free when you tightened your hold around your throat. Your thighs clamped around your hand, attempting to ride it without any support. You might’ve been a virgin, but masturbation was nothing new to you.
“Hey.” You froze, hearing the bathroom door slam open. “Did you hear me? You have less than 3 minutes.”
“Busy!” You panted, so incredibly thankful for the shower covering the sound of your dirty actions. Though, having him right outside the curtain like this, while you pleasured yourself to the thought of him—it was hot.
“I’m serious. I’ll drag you out myself if I have to, we will not be late.” His voice was gruff, was he picturing what you looked like right now? Naked and vulnerable? Probably, if the old perv was already comfortable invading your personal space like this.
Would he really pull you out of the shower? Would he not mind how wet and tempting you’d look?
Part of you believed it.
─────────────────────────────────
you
The professor in fact did not pull you out of the shower. Instead, you were nearly late to your first class. You weren’t though! Something he seemed to keep forgetting.
“The next time you make us late—
“We weren’t late—”
“Stop cutting me off—”
You stared.
He stared back.
God he was hot.
It was so unfair.
“Stay here, I’ll be back.”
“Where are you going?” He didn’t reply, he didn’t even look back as he left you in this too big lecture hall. Why had you even expected him to? The man was too full of himself, always acting as if he were better than everyone else in the room. Hot take, being the oldest did not equal being the smartest.
You kicked up your feet and leaned back in his chair, where you sat most of class. There was only one other scheduled, the 16:00 one, and then you could lounge around the house the rest of the day. Whatever Katsuki brought back, he better bring two of them, or you’d steal his.
Katsuki.
It was his first name, though you’d never really used it. There was no special reason, but it sounded weird on your tongue now. Maybe it was the lack of saying it before, but it just felt more intimate.
You opened your mouth, “Ka–” you lifted your fingers to your lips as if it would make it easier, but it sounded just as awkward. You fisted your hands. Again. “Kat-suki…?”
A groan fell out of your throat and you let your head fall back. This was so stupid. Why was it so hard to say his fuckass name?
“Katsuki.” It came out quickly.
Again.
“Katsuki.”
He said your name all the time.
“Katsuki—”
“Oh, are you looking for him too?” Your head snapped up.
“What?”
The man—late thirties at least—chuckled. “Katuski, the old English professor?” This man eyed you with one raised brow. “Is that… his chair?”
“I—”
“Don’t talk to her.” Snapped, again. At this point why not just make a fucking meme out of yourself.
“Katsuki!” The man turned with his hands in the air as if readying for a hug.
“Don’t touch me.”
“Oh, come on.” The professor passed his friend or whoever that man was and slid onto the edge of his desk, something he often did when he was taking attendance. This time, however, he turned toward you, shifting one leg between your own, letting it dangle there as if it owed him something.
His narrowed stare glued you to the seat, even as he slid a bag of candy in front of you.
Something passed between the two of you, though you couldn’t quite name it. He didn’t say the bag was for you, but it was all but implied, and for some reason, felt more intimate than calling him Katsuki.
You blinked, a silent thank you right before the other man cleared his throat. “Is this the assistant you were telling me about?”
The professor’s head turned, expression resigned. “Let’s talk outside.”
“But why?” Brown eyes flickered over to you. He was handsome, but nowhere near as gorgeous as your boss.
“Because I said so.”
His tone garnered no room for protest, and the stranger must have caught that too, because he followed Katsuki without complaint.
Katsuki.
You shook your head, it still felt too weird. But calling him Mr. Bakugo or anything didn’t sound any better.
You took the bag in your hand and ripped into it just as a call came through. Your face soured. Your father. What did he want? Another lecture about how to behave? To respect your elders? Yeah, no thanks. You were good.
He didn’t call back after you declined his first attempt, but moments later, a message did appear across your screen. The first one since your arrival in Japan. Was it the professor? Had he said something to tip your father off about your behavior? No, that didn’t seem like something he would do… But then again, you didn’t know this man. Three nights—if that.
But still, you saw no point in responding—or even looking at the text. If it were really important, he’d have called back, and maybe you would have answered—but he hadn’t.
─────────────────────────────────
katsuki
You were acting strange, strange in a way that Katsuki found himself trying to figure out what was wrong while never wanting to ask you directly.
You had grown popular among the staff in the English Department over the next month, mainly for being his assistant. When he’d agreed to your father’s favor, there had been an underlying rule—one that hadn’t needed to be said out loud. It was obvious you were attractive, just how attractive, Katsuki hadn’t known until the night of your meeting. Then, he’d taken more issue with the way you’d affected him. Now, the issue of how other men are perceiving you is more precedent.
Usually, he diverted questions about you and absolutely refused to introduce any of his colleagues despite how much they tended to beg. Even the youngest of them were too old for you. It was Katuki’s job to take care of you and if that meant blocking certain men from access, then so be it.
He told himself it was normal, that he was just looking out for his friend’s daughter. Though, in reality, that just made it a whole lot worse… At night—when you were washing off, his door remained open, and if he lingered near the front of his room, he’d be able to catch your figure—clad in only a towel—filter across the hall and into your room. You weren’t ever rushing, but still, your room wasn’t that far from the bathroom on the other side.
His eyes travelled from the side of your face to your exposed collarbone, and then down to the parts forbidden.
He took a step back and shut his door. Doing things like this only ensured to fuel the desire he wasn’t permitted. Katsuki knew these thoughts shouldn’t even be something he was trying to suppress, and yet he couldn’t stop them—but he could control them. He would not act on these feelings, he would not lose himself to something so selfish.
But in the back of his mind, whenever he rested his eyes there you were. Your face, your voice, your body—it was all there. He was good at ignoring it during the day; it was easy to forget those thoughts when he was crowded with work. Night is what had him in a bind. He couldn’t not see you—fuck was even starting to smell you now—
“What—”
“Wow, it is really plain.”
Katuski’s eyes narrowed as he watched you step further into his room. What were you— “What are you doing here?”
He didn’t miss the slight smirk that appeared on your lips if only for a moment. “You have a visitor. It’s super late, so I thought it must be important.”
A visitor? This late? He grabbed his phone from his side table and pulled up the camera feed.
“They’re at the gate. I don’t know the password to let them in,” he could see you shrugging from the corner of his eyes, but he was too entranced in the CCTV to say anything.
“Just who…” Katuski’s shoulder’s slumped.
“You don’t look happy at all.”
“Do you enjoy antagonizing me?”
“Very much.” Your reply was quicker than he would have liked, and so he stared at you, irritation showing itself in the form of a vein around his neck. He could feel it bulging, quite like something else that needed taking care of.
“You’re a pain.”
“Sounds endearing.”
He couldn’t deny that. But he could deny the way you were looking at him—eyes lowered, lips pursed in a pretty little put, your expression screamed condescension. You were reducing him to what he kept hidden below his garments, weren’t you? It was perverted, but something he’d expected nonetheless. Your previous advances hadn’t been as conspicuous as you would have liked to believe. Katsuki wasn’t wondering if you were trying to seduce him, he was curious as to why. What were your intentions? To piss off your father? If that were truly the reason, he wanted no part in it.
But if you weren’t… And if you really found him attractive…
Katsuki wrapped a hand around the side of his neck and chanced a glance at you. “Hmm hmm,” you were grinning, of course you were—was there ever a time when you weren’t? Katsuki couldn’t think of one.
He exhaled and his shoulders drooped. “Stay here.”
“If you insist.” Before he could redirect his words to, “Stay in your room,” you threw yourself onto his bed, nuzzling into the side that had already been ruffled by him. He opened his mouth to say something more, but then thought that there would be no point, because all you would do was repeat his words, and that was something Katuski could not take back—much like the favor that had landed him in this situation—he wasn’t a God after all.
He padded down the steps as quickly as he could, fingers already typing out a text to the man he knew sat outside. The code lock sat hidden beneath a painting near the front for. Mostly it was hidden so unwanted people couldn’t invite themselves inside, but Katsuki also didn’t mind how much better the painting looked compared to a silver hatch.
He watched the red car pull up the driveway, parking right beside the garage. “Get in.”
“Read my text.”
He did. And Katsuki saw it the moment disbelief hit his friend—if he could even call this man that. “You’re not serious. Come on, it’s been ages. Let’s go out.”
Katsuki trudged down the steps and leaned over the car's window. “What would your wife say?”
“She’s fine with it, trust me dude.”
“Don’t call me that.” Katsuki’s eyebrows furrowed. They weren’t in high school anymore, hadn't been for a very long time yet Eijiro still seemed to think calling a fourty-three year old man ‘Dude’ was appropriate. “Seriously—”
“Let’s go, we’re not getting any younger!”
“I—
“Wait—you can’t go!”
Katsuki’s heart dropped. He spun around, eyes tracking up the stairs and then up your exposed legs, your cardigan draped over a spaghetti strap. He faced Eijiro once more, intending on explaining before the idiot came up with some sort of perverted conclusion—but the man was… looking away from him? Was that a side eye or…?
“I never expected something like this from you of all people, I guess it can happen to anyone—”
“What are you talking about?”
“Hey, old man, who’s this?”
“No one you need to know about—”
“Eijiro, nice to meet you.”
Annoyance slammed into Katsuki, why were you so eager to talk to every man you met? Did you know what kind of people existed in the world? Had your father not taught you anything about stranger fucking danger? God, if he wasn’t here where the hell would you have ended up? In a back alley with a bunch of thugs? Or worse—he didn’t want to think about worse.
He stepped between you and his old friend, turning his glare onto you and prying your hand away. “I thought I told you to stay in my room.”
You averted your gaze and shrugged, “I got bored.”
“That’s not an excuse.”
“So, you were in Katuski’s room?” Katuki didn’t like the insinuation that came with that question.
“Yep.” You, however, seemed oblivious to what Eijiro was actually asking. No, more like you didn’t care what he thought of your relationship with Katsuki. That desire coaled around his waist—the need to punish you, to put you in your place. He had come close to it a few days ago: Monday night.
It was Friday now, late and Katsuki would have been out without Eijiro trying to force him—but you were here. And for some reason, Katsuki didn’t like leaving you alone at night. He didn’t like leaving you alone period, knowing you could just uber your way anywhere—he wasn’t keen on finding you hooking up with some random person. What if you weren’t careful? What if you fell pregnant? There were just too many cons that came with leaving you, and so Katsuki had accepted that until he found could trust you, he wouldn’t.
“Katsuki—bro, I didn’t know…”
“Don’t make it sound like something it isn’t.” Katsuki’s eyes rolled, “Go home.”
“Come on, your friend can come too.”
“Can I?”
“No.” Katsuki needed to stop whatever this was right now. “Eijiro, I’m serious.”
“When are you not?” Katuki’s eyes narrowed and his teeth bared just slightly. You were being a little brat and you knew it.
“That doesn’t matter. Don’t get into the habit of conversing with strangers.”
“I’m not a stranger.”
“He’s your friend, isn’t he?”
“He’s a stranger to you, and that’s all that matters.”
“Aw, old man, are you worried about me? That’s so sweet.”
Your hands drifted toward his waist, tugging at his fitted shirt, but before you could reach any further he snatched your wrist. “Don’t just go around touching people, either.”
Eijiro whistled and when Katsuki turned his eyes back up, his friend avoided his gaze. Great. Now he’d definitely gotten the wrong idea.
“I’ll leave tonight, Kacchan. But tomorrow, you’re coming with me.” And Katsuki hated the way his eyes turned to smug slits when they so clearly found yours. “And you little lady, you can come too.”
Eijiro left without another word from either party. Katsuki had been stunned into silence, and you—well, he couldn’t know what was going through your head. He was sure, though, that it wasn’t anything good.
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you
“You’re not coming.”
“I’d beg to differ.”
He’d followed you to your room, and now stood in the doorway with his arms crossed. “What are you doing?”
“Well, I can’t just go in my work clothes, now can I?”
“Good thing you don’t have to worry about that. You’re not going.”
The way he enunciated every last word had you scowling as you sifted through your closet. “You can’t tell me what to do, besides, I was invited, wasn’t I? It’d be nice to get out of this stuffy house for a change.”
“You threw out my clothes, you owe me at least this much.”
“I wouldn’t have thrown out your shit if you wouldn’t have put it in my hamper. I told you a month ago you’re not a child and that remains true doesn’t it?”
“Well, it sure doesn’t feel like it with you breathing down my back, telling me what I can and can’t do.”
He went silent after that. You must have hit a nerve, but it wasn’t like you weren’t telling the truth. He was acting as if you were some underaged teenager planning illegal activities. It was such a stupid argument, you couldn’t even begin to contemplate what his goal was.
When you glanced over your shoulder, you found him glaring at you. When wasn’t he glaring at you? It seemed like that’s all he knew how to do. What was it his friend had called him? Oh, that’s right. “Kacchan.” The name felt lighter—easier to say than Professor, and unlike his name, it didn’t hold weight. It was teasing, perfect, especially at getting him to shut up. “What’s wrong? Embarrassed?”
“Hey,” your heart fell into your ass when he appeared behind you, crowding you into your bed.
“Woah—” your nervous laugh was cut short by the look in his eyes. Deep, hungry red eyes. Sin in flesh and bone. That’s what he’d looked like—was he able to to turn it off and on like a switch? He was so close, you could hear his breathing—was he angry? Or was something else… “You should shut the door first to give a lady some privacy…” He evidently did not find your joke at all amusing. He was quiet, but his gaze spoke for him. His pupils dilated as they tracked down your body. “Kacchan?”
“You like testing with me, don’t you?” His voice was thick with something dangerous. “You should be more careful.” He lifted your arms above your head, pinning your wrists down with one hand, using the other to caress your cheek. This is what you had wanted from the very beginning Before you’d known who he was—before he’d drawn a line in the sand because of who you were. If you hadn’t met like this—under any other circumstances, would he have taken you without a second thought? Would he still need to restrain himself? Would you affect him as much as you had been? All those nights he’d ended up not coming home, where had he been? Why did you care—he was a man and nothing more, he was your boss and your father’s friend, and yet you wanted him. More than you were willing to admit to yourself in the moment.
And yet you still found yourself asking him, “Why?” Wanting to be as close to him as possible, wanting to be the only thing he wanted—the only woman he saw—was it all really just lust? Or maybe…
“I’m not a good man.”
“I never claimed you were.” You clocked the moment his jaw locked. He tried to work around it, tried to hide it—you didn’t know why. You knew what your teasing did to him—what the thought of your body did to him. Katsuki Bakugo was a possessive man, and he hadn’t yet realized it—but was it because he was truly worried about the men you were around, or because he couldn’t have you?
The lights in the hallway seemed to dim and the air around you grew strained. His face was inches from yours, pained and frustrating to look at. Why couldn’ t he just give in? Did he know what you were? Did he not like the responsibility of taking a woman’s virginity? If that was the case maybe you could find someone to help with that. Why did it feel like he was always holding back on you—on everyone? Like there were dark thoughts in the deepest parts of his brain he couldn’t let anyone ever see. How dirty did his mind get? How many times this month had he thought of you? Touched himself to you? God, the thought of him trying to keep it a secret was turning you on more than his leg between your thighs.
He shook his head, but his fingers didn't stop. They traced the outline of your throat, and then along your collarbone. He touch was gentle, it was confusing—conflicitng with the hungry expression. A shiver ran up your spine when those eyes found yours once again. An ache built in your stomach, and perhaps it was an accident the way he pushed his knee further into you. But you suspected the opposite was true. “It’s so obvious.” Your voice was no more than a whisper, but it garnered his attention like it always did. “Why hold back?”
He bit out a cold, humorous laugh. “Oh, sweetheart,” his fingers trailed around your pulse, slowly pushing down on it. Your inhale was quick and sharp, almost like your body was telling you not to trust him. Too bad you were tone deaf. “You couldn’t handle me.”
But you could. You knew you could—you had that faith in yourself. “I like when you call me sweetheart.”
His stare burned like he was trying to gauge a reaction, “Don’t get used to it.”
“—Kacchan,” you scoffed at the way his grip tightened around your wrists. They’d likely have bruises blossoming in the morning. “Why do you pretend to know everything about me?” You moved your legs around his waist and pulled him closer. There it was—his cock. It wanted out, it wanted to sink into a needy, tight, little pussy—you could give that to him, why couldn't he understand that? He would fill every inch of you—fuck you could already imagine the feeling. A grunt fell from his mouth, and you knew you had him. He was nearly gone—nearly yours—
“Don’t,” but his voice was strained, and his teeth were bared. “I use women. I don’t care about them when I’m done.” Oh, he was angry now, did he want to reassert dominance? A grin stretched your mouth upward because you had absolutely no problem with that. “You couldn’t handle that…” he paused, eyes tracing every inch of your body, as if he’d never see it again. “Could you?”
Was he really asking that? What kind of woman would subject herself to someone she would never have again? A crazy woman—one with nothing to lose…
Were you that crazy? Did you want him that badly? Could you throw away whatever you might feel for one amazing night? What would living with him be like after? Back to normal? No, whatever this was, it’d never be the same because he was completely serious, and you didn’t know. You’d never had sex—had never had the opportunity to be so intimate with anyone before… Though that never stopped you from fantasizing about it, you knew it wasn’t the same thing. You’d never loved another person—had he? Why did that sour your stomach?
“Thought so.” Apparently your silence was enough. And you hated it.
Hated the way he backed off, the way he released you, expression almost tone of devastation. It looked like it had pained him to let go, but why? Hadn’t this all just been a ploy to get you not to go out or something? Hadn’t he said he’d never touch you that way—so then why did he look so… conflicted?
His gaze remained on yours, but mentally, he had pulled away. You should have said something, you should have told him that it was fine—that you didn’t mind it being a one time thing even if you weren’t sure. But wouldn’t that just be throwing away your self-respect? But you sat up and watched him back toward the door, you thought anything would be better than the way he just left you. Cold, alone, and missing his weight.
Maybe you should have said something…
─────────────────────────────────
katsuki
Was he fucking insane? No, he was just blind, blind to the fact that he wanted you. God, he wanted you so badly and yet everything he’d said remained true. He didn’t care for women in a relationship, sex was a different story, but he didn’t want that. He didn’t want a relationship, he wanted someone who would shove his cock down their throats one night and pretend they’d never met every night after.
Katsuki didn’t fucking do relationships. He’d never been into that kind of shit—he’d been single his entire life and that wasn’t about to change because some horny little twenty-something year old was constantly trying to jump him.
And the thing was, Katsuki would’ve never had a problem with taking you back to one of his hotel rooms. If he had met you in any other circumstance, save for work—he would’ve done exactly that. But he hadn't. And more than that, he knew your father—had promised to take care of you. Is that what he was doing by thinking of you in such ways? By feeling whatever this thing was for you? No, he was wrong for this. No matter how he thought about it, it was wrong.
He wanted to slam his door shut, but how would you take it? Just because he was frustrated with the situation didn’t mean he had to take it out on the things around him. Besides, this house was fairly expensive, and he really didn’t feel like paying for any damages caused for simply having a weak mind.
He needed to work out his cock right now, of course he’d gotten hard, who the fuck wouldn’t? You—you were just something else. He couldn’t explain it to anyone, much less understand it his damn self.
Think of something else.
He told himself.
Just think of anything fucking else.
Something unfuckable. Grannies—fucking Deku. Eijiro—he covered his mouth, stomach flipping sickly at the thought of those two idiots.
It was going down, that was good at least. He could breathe now, finally.
More than half his age, his friend's daughter. Was it the fact that he couldn’t have you that made him want you so? That must have been it, there was no other explanation.
He ran a hand through his hair, matted with sweat, and tugged off his shirt. He needed a shower, he needed to clear his mind—maybe he needed a break from having sex at all. Was that it? That he’d been doing it too much? Was that all he thought about now?
A half scoff, half laugh fell out of his throat. But his work wasn’t impacted—just his need… His desire for you. It had grown over the past month into something monstrous. “Fuck.” This wasn’t helping.
When his hand pressed down on himself, he let out a hiss. It was asking for pussy, but not just any pussy. Why did he do this to himself? Why did he pretend he could have you? Even if you had said yes, there was no way he’d believe that. He knew women—and from what he’d gathered, you weren’t experienced—and there was absolutely no fucking way he was going to help with that.
He needed a drink, and the housekeepers had already gone home for the day which meant he needed to go get it himself. And chance running into you again? It wasn’t like he could avoid you, this was so incredibly childish of him and yet here he was, sticking his head out the crack in his door to make sure you were still safely tucked in your room.
It was an odd choice of wording, like you wouldn’t be safe if you did come out into the hall, which was completely untrue. Katuski wasn’t that kind of man—he’d never do anything against your will… Unless you liked that kind of thing— No. He had to stop thinking about you in a sexual aspect—in any aspect. Where the hell was that bourbon again? In the cellar? Nah, he’d keep it closer on hand. Fuck, why couldn’t he remember? His bulge wasn’t growing any smaller.
In the kitchen, the lights were off, but that was fine—light or no light, he knew his way around his house, he’d owned it for over fifteen years; it'd be embarrassing if he didn’t. In the safe behind the painting of the Itsukushima Shrine, then. Yeah, it had to be there.
His phone went off before he’d gotten across the kitchen, but he only looked at the message after typing in the seven digit code.
Something’s up with you.
22:19
Kill yourself.
22:20
He set his phone onto the bar beside the old bottle and headed for the cabinets behind him. Diamond cut lowball glasses sat in a neat row on the lowest shelf. He plucked one off and spun around, intent on adding ice.
Katsuki knew he was right, it wasn’t a good idea for you to go tomorrow. It wasn’t a good idea for anyone—he knew especially for him. Because what he would do if he saw anymore of your exposed limbs—or rather if anyone else got a glimpse at what was—
He stopped himself. What the hell was he saying? You weren’t property. You weren’t even his to claim. And yet, his cock couldn’t seem to take a fucking hint. He growled, forcing the cork off with a metal screw. He couldn’t get the whiskey in the glass fast enough before throwing it back in four giant gulps.
Christ, he wiped his lips, cock still trying to burst through his pants, he was fucked.
He was glad Eijiro hadn’t texted back, it made it easier to ignore what he’d said, and what he knew was true.
Katsuki scrolled through a few work emails, RSVPing a few meetings he had no choice but to attend. If he could get out of that shit, he would. At least you didn’t have to attend—most of the men there didn’t know how to keep their eyes to themselves, and Katsuki really didn’t feel like losing his job because he’d punched one of his colleagues over your dignity. He was a knight in shining armor, he wasn’t defending you because you deserve it or anything—as selfish as it was, he did it for himself. Because he hated the thought of another man thinking he could get away with internally fucking you. Not if he had anything to say about it.
Kacchan.
You had called him Kacchan.
Hearing his childhood nickname fall from your slips hadn’t been something he’d expected. It was terrifying, how warm he’d felt… It’d taken everything in him to not react, but part of him knew his silence had tipped you off anyway.
It was annoying, fuck—you were annoying. You affected him—you did, and he couldn’t have you. He had to go on knowing this face no matter how many times you threw yourself at him or how many times he nearly lost control, he could never have you the way he wanted, and fuck if it didn’t hurt.
Why couldn’t you have just been a guy? It would have made this whole situation much fucking easier because then he wouldn’t be sitting at his fucking kitchen counter drinking his emergency stash of fucking bourbon.
He sighed into his newly filled glass, the strong sweetness of the alcohol filled his senses, but all he could smell was you, and your hair. He’d been so close to you—so close so many times, and now he couldn’t get that damn smell out of his head.
If you were a guy, he would’ve never gotten that close. If you were a man, he wouldn’t be questioning his morality every waking second, and he certainly wouldn’t be dreaming of plunging his veiny cock into your tight little cunt.
───────────────────────────────────────
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as a college graduate, your father pushed you to leave the country. why? because you won’t leave his house otherwise. Japan, he said, is perfect, and you wouldn’t have to worry about getting a job because he had everything already covered. you should have asked why. you should have pressed him more before agreeing. because now, you’re stuck living with his old friend from high school, who also happens to be your new boss.
fbi agent wakatoshi ushijima wants you to testify in court, but you tell him the only way you'll do it is if he fucks your brains first.
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ㅤ♡ fbi!ushijima x witness!reader
ㅤ♡ modern au
ㅤ♡ nsfw romance-MDNI - improper use of a gun - horny!reader - reader!mb
ㅤ practically stranger fucking
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───────────────────────────────────────
you
“And who might you be?”
“Wakatoshi Ushijima,” he was quick to flash his ID, “Is it alright if I ask you a few questions.”
“What is this regarding, Officer?” Jesus, he was hot.
“An incident that occurred here a few days ago, you might’ve heard of it?”
“Oh, yeah. I know what you’re talking about. Come inside.” Your eyes darted around, and when he was the only one to walk in, you asked, “No partner?"
“Not today.” Well, wasn’t that just perfect?
You froze, coming face to chest when you spun around. He reached out, grabbing at your elbows to keep you from falling over. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah—just…” his smell as your thighs pressing together. His voice was right above your ear, like he’d pulled you this close on purpose. You swallowed, attempting to step back. His arms reached out, still wrapped around your arms. “Uhm… Could you—”
“—Oh, yeah. Sorry.” He put space between you, but you’d caught that look in his eyes. He’d been staring at your tits. Well, good to know they were good enough. He was older, maybe five or six years your senior, but there was no ring, and that meant he was free game.
“So, about the incident?” You leaned forward, trying to get a good look at his face, which remained lowered. “I know what you’re referring to, but I don’t really know what I can do to help, wasn’t it already ruled an accident? That person…”
“Techinally,” he turned toward you, gaze hard and angry, but not at you—at some something you couldn’t see. He’d love a good stress fuck, maybe you could help him with this case… And some more. The thought pleased you a little too much.
“I’m assuming there's a ‘but’ after that?”
His eyes dragged incredibly slowly over your chest, and a slight smirk framed your face. Wasn’t he obvious? “Yes,” he cleared his throat, crossing his arms before meeting your gaze again. “But, I am not at liberty to say much yet.”
“Yet…?” Unfortunately, he seemed dead set on keeping every little detail to himself. “So then,” you walked around him, enjoying the way he followed you with both his eyes and his body. “What can I help you with, Officer Ushijima?”
“It’s actually Agent Ushijima.”
“Really?” Your eyes narrowed suspiciously and you leaned forward, “Can I see that ID again?”
“If you must.”
“I fear I must.” He acted reluctant, but still played your little game. Whatever he wanted to ask you must have been very important…
He flashed his ID once more, leaving it in the air longer this time.
“Hmmm,” you reached out to grab it, but he wouldn’t allow that—no, of course not. “Nervous, Agent?”
“Not in the slightest, Ma’am.”
You huffed out a laugh, “Give me some credit, I don’t look that old do I?”
He raised an eyebrow, though it seemed completely involuntary, and averted his gaze just slightly, as if he were truly contemplating your question. His muscles flexed when he tucked his wallet back into his pocket, and the image of him forcing you to choke on his cock flashed across your eyes. You had to take a step back to breathe better, squeezing your thighs wasn’t enough. How would he feel inside you? No doubt he’d stretch everything that needed to be. He could slap your ass as punishment and you’d thank him afterward.
“What’s on your mind?”
“Hmm?” You smiled, turning your back on him, “Nothing, you want some water?”
“I’m good. Could I ask you some questions now?”
“Sure. I don’t mind.”
You stepped further into your apartment, motioned for him to follow. He did so, but stiffly, and when you sat on your couch, he hesitated.
“It’s okay,” you patted the cushion next to him, but apparently that was too close for him. How disappointing.
“So then,” he started when he found a comfortable position against the wall across from you. His hands remained in his pockets, but you knew they were huge, much like you knew his lower region would be too. You had only been living in these apartments for a few months, but you supposed it was enough to take up all your social time. Perhaps that was why you were so horny. Could he tell? He was a big bad ‘Agent’ after all…
The way he was looking at you—with absolute stoicism—it did things to your brain you didn’t know was possible. He looked like a wolf in human form, glare not meant to scare, but warn, it had you pulling your knees up to your chest—if he looked down, he’d have a perfect view of your pussy pressing against your shorts.
“Miss, could you run me through what happened that night.”
“Sure.” You said, “but I’ve already given a statement to the police department, is it—right.” Your lips pursed when you saw the irritation sparking through his forehead. “I was coming home from school, going to the university nearby, I’m a graduate so I only have time for night classes—that’s why I was out so late, I have a normal day job, you know.”
He didn’t say much, but you supposed that was just how he was. It kind of amused you.
“Anyway, I was leaving the underground parking lot and coming up to my floor through the elevator, but right when I was going to get in, I saw…” you paused, averting your gaze. “That person, my neighbor's kid.”
“The victim?”
“Yeah—well, I haven’t been here that long, I didn’t know this was irregular for her, she’s older than me, that's why I wasn’t concerned with why she was out so late.”
“The victim was thirty-seven. She had a kid—”
“—I know—” you huffed, tears pricking your eyes. “I know, okay?” You swiped at your eyes, trying to calm yourself down. “So, when I saw her, I thought she was coming back from–like hanging with friends or something.”
“And approximately what time was this?”
“I don’t know—” you shrugged, “21:00, I think, I had two classes that night, but the last one got cancelled.”
“Alright,” he removed his hands from his pockets just to cross his arms and crane his neck. In this moody lamplight, it almost felt like he’d thought you had something to do with it. How frustrating.
“I didn’t know that woman well—I didn’t know her at all, I barely spoke to her mother.”
“Did you see anyone else there?”
“No—I already told you—” you paused. “Wait…”
He pushed off the wall and stalked forward, “What? What do you remember?”
Your eyebrows furrowed as you thought back to the only thing that had stood out of place. “It’s probably nothing—”
“—Tell me anyway.”
“Alrigh. Look.” You couldn’t meet his gaze. You hadn’t thought about this at first because the main thing that had drawn your attention was the kid, but going back now, it could’ve been something important. “There was this car… It was weird because I’d never seen it before, but like I told you I’m new here, so I guess I thought it might've been a visitor with the code? I don’t know…
“Do you remember the license plate?"
“Mmm…” you shut your eyes, your forehead creasing as you did your best to recall the numbers…
“You remember?”
Your eyes popped open, "Just the first three numbers… And the color of the car. I do remember thinking the owner must have been rich or something because it wasn’t a normal color.”
His mouth fell slightly ajar and he looked almost dumb. Seconds later he was running a hand over his face, groaning. “Let me guess. Metallic Blue?”
You nearly jumped up, “How’d you know?”
“That’s irrelevant.” You scoffed. “Meany.”
He paused, catching your gaze from the corner of his eyes, “How old did you say you were again?”
“Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to ask a woman that?” You crossed your arms and turned away from him dramatically. You expected a scoff, maybe another groan—but instead he started laughing. It almost sounded incredulous the way he ended the sound with a sigh.
“What’s your name?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
A wry smile pulled his lips upward. “I’ll see you again, Miss.”
“You’re leaving already?” You spun around on your couch just to watch him walk toward your front door. “Too bad.”
“Is that a joke?” He had one hand on your doorknob, the other stuffed into his pocket once again.
“You’re the agent,” you tilted your head downward and smirked, “what do you think?”
He shook his head, and tugged your door open, “I’ll be in touch, Young Miss.”
“Hey, since when did I become Young Miss?” Though he was already stepping through the threshold, you caught the slight curve of his lips. How interesting…
─────────────────────────────
you
The case hadn’t gotten much more media attention in the following weeks, and you had nearly forgotten about it—you hadn’t forgotten about him, however.
He appeared in your dreams more than necessary, baking you against a wall, forcing you onto your back, choking you with more than just his hands. You’d never thought about someone so vividly, and though it was frustrating, you knew the chance of ever seeing him again was incredibly low.
True, he had said he’d see you again, but that had been over a month ago. Your life was mundane most days, all you could do was masturbate to the thought of him. The pink vibrator you now held in your hand toyed with your clit. You pictured him, tugging up your legs, eating you, and fucking you. You wanted a tummy bulge—you wanted him.
Your moan fell out of your throat, you threw your head back, spreading your legs wider on your couch. You were so close to shoving the things up your cunt—but your fingers would have to do it. Maybe you should invest in a good dildo—the good ones were pretty expensive—
You paused at the knock on your door, your vibrator still obliterating your clit. Another knock—but you thought if you just ignored them, they would get the hint and go away. Whoever it was couldn’t be as important and what you were doing right now.
But then another knock, louder this time. You heaved a sigh and flicked off your toy, attempting to stand on wobbly legs. “Coming!” Though, not the way you wanted.
You unlocked your door and cracked it slightly, “Who—” you froze, “It’s you.”
“Can I come in?” Agent Ushijima attempted to look past you, but you kept your door nearly shut.
“What—what is this for?” You were half naked! You couldn’t let him see you like this—what would he think?
“I believe I told you I’d be back—
“Yes, but I—
“—What are you doing?” His eyebrows furrowed and he stepped forward, almost pushing the door open with sheer muscle.
“Uhm—how about you just give me a few minutes…” He eyed you suspiciously, but in the end, nodded.
You slammed the door and ran back to your room, pulling on the first pair of shorts you’d found. Your slick coaxed the inside, but there was no time for that. You cunt would have to wait.
Back at the door, you opened it again, fully this time. “Sorry about that… I was… busy…”
“Busy…”
“Yeah,” you circled him after closing the door once more, following as he seemed to know his way around your house.
“About the case,” he began, “would you be willing to testify to everything you told me last time?”
“Do I get to know the details?”
He halted, bent over your couch, and slowly turned around. He raised one arm, your pink, vibrator still covered in pussy juice clutched in his hand. You shuddered when he lifted it to his eyes, “Busy, were you?”
“Give it here!” You tugged at his shirt, pulling his height lower. “Seriously, what kind of cop just bursts into a person's house like this? Is this even legal?”
“Considering I’m here on official business on unofficial office hours,” he tilted his head, a slight smirk appeared, “Yes.”
“Whatever,” he lowered his arm, allowing you to obtain your toy. “Oh, don’t look at me like that.” You scoffed. “We barely know each other, this isn’t normal.”
“The circumstances are not normal, I agree. However, my duty is to the people of this country. I want justice—you feel bad for that woman and her family? Testify.”
“What was it?” You asked, walking toward the bathroom. Ushijima wasn’t too far behind, and when you flipped the tap on to rinse off your sex device, he leaned against the doorway, towering over the small area. “What happened to her? What kind of trouble was she in?”
“I can’t say…” he bit his cheek, averting his gaze. “But I can;t promise you won’t be in any danger. I will protext you.”
You scoffed. “And why, might I ask, should I trust you?”
“You already believe I can convince you,” he said, “Or else you would’ve asked why instead. Isn’t that reason enough?”
“Pyschology,” you clicked your tongue, finally turning to him again, “It’s a tricky thing. You crossed your arms and huffed, eyeing the toy that hadn’t been able to do you justice in over an hour. “Tell you what, Agent. I’ll testify if you do one thing for me.”
“What do you want?”
You snickered and stepped forward, running a hand over his chest. He visibly tensed under your chest, sucking in a breath. “So quick to please,” your flashes a pretty, evil smile. “It’s a small thing really, I just need you to use me.”
He blinked, “What do you mean by that?” Your hand trailed to his lower region, palming him for only a second above his pants before his fingers latched around your wrist and tugged your arm away. “Don’t.”
“Is that a no, then Agent?” You frowned. “Oh well—
“Is that really what you want?”
You smirked. “It might surprise you just a little, Agent, but I don’t usually have sexy, broad-shouldered men in fitted black shirts knocking on my door this late—and as you can see,” you waved toward the vibrator, “I was in the middle of something before you interrupted.”
He turned away, seeming pausing to think about your words. It was a shame, he was fucking gorgroue, and you bet his cock was just as thick as it’d felt through those pants.
“I’ll walk you out—
“Alright.”
You froze.
“But it’s a one time thing. And no one can know.”
Had he seriously just agreed? He knew you would have testified either way, right? Or maybe he didn’t? Was he dense or something? But before you could tell him that, he was pulling you into the hallway.
“Where do you want to do this?”
“Uhm—I guess the living room.”
Another tug, and he was pulling you over his lap, forcing you to straddle him. You swallowed, was he hard? You could practically ride him through his jeans. Fucking helll.
“You want me to use you little girl?”
“I’m not a—
His other hand tugged your head back by your hair, leaving your neck completely exposed. He leaned over your throat—face a breath away from yours—and railed his hot tongue up your pulse. “You’re a little girl to me. I could break you, but that’s what you want, right?” His fingers pressed against your lower abdomen, building pressure within just a few moments. “Alright then, I’ll oblige.”
You gasped and swallowed a gasp when something cold pressed against your thigh. “Is that—
“My gun, yes—but don’t worry, he's friendly.”
“You—” he pressed the barrel between your legs, moving it up and down as you would a toy. It was stupid—and dangerous… But fuck did it feel good.
“You like that?” His breath blanketed your ear and you nodded. “Good.”
He pulled your shorts aside and ran a finger through your slit. “How lude.”
“I was busy…” you grunted, meeting his gaze for the first time since he’d pulled you down.
“Did you manage to please yourself?” You turned away, heat coating your cheeks as you answered honestly. “Such a shame.” He clicked his tongue. “Now I have to put in extra work.” The way he spoke—the way he commanded you—it wasn’t completely unlike the way he’d acted the first time you’d met him.
He’d all but barged in that night too—had he been off duty that night as well?
Cool metal teased your lips, puffy from your earlier excursion. “Tell me, Little Girl, how much can you take before you start begging me to stop?” His eyes were suffocating, but that cool metal kept pushing further, fucking your folds until the tip met your entrance. “Scream if you’re in pain.”
You gripped onto his shoulders, sucking in a breath as he shoved his gun further into your cunt. It hurt at first—it wasn’t exactly made for this kind of situation.
“Are you afraid?” He was asking, taunting. “If you re just tell me and I’ll stop.” But you weren’t afraid. Yes, at any moment his gun could fire off, but damnit if that wasn’t turning you on further. “Such a dirty little girl,” his hair tightened, and his tongue trailed saliva around your pulse. “That’s it, ride my gun. Let it fuck you dumb. Dirty fucking slut.” You were a moaning mess each time the barrel hit your cervix, “Come all over it. You know you want to—”
And you did, you wanted to fuck his face, and his gun, and his cock. You wanted everything he had to offer, and you wanted it badly.
His pace increased, before had just been thrusts, but now he was fucking it into you like he’d meant what he’d said—like he wanted you to come all over and soil his pressure little firearm—pussy swallowing it hole.
“You’re nearly there, aren’t you?” His arm flexed as he quickened his pace. Beneath you, you could feel his bulge pestering your leg, as if hoping you’d free it. How cute, did he know how hard he was? You should probably take care of that for him, right? “Show me how badly you want it. How bad do you want a fat cock plunging into your pretty little cunt.”
“I—” your breath caught in your throat—you were going to combust if he kept talking like that. His knuckles brushed against your skin—dominately innocent compared to the way you were playing with his weapon. “Yes—God—”
A shudder ran through you, you were coming—and he knew it, so then why—why was he still—
“That’s right. Do this for me,” His voice was rigid… And you thought he might’ve been more affected by this than he wanted to let on. He fucked your cum back into your even as you drenched his gun.
“Good girl…” he breathed, finally pulling it out. “Taste yourself. Taste what a dirty fucking slut you are for me.” You let your tongue fall out so he could slide a tip between your lips. You hadn’t noticed it before, but there was something in his gaze now—something incredibly frightening. It was more than lust—and less than anger. And before you could even try to comprehend it, he set his gun aside and his lips slammed into yours. He was tasting you on yourself, and what did he think? He looked a little dizzy. “I take back what I said.” He moved a finger through your folds, eliciting a sweet moan from you. He popped his finger into his mouth, lapping up everything he’d gathered. “You won’t need that pathetic toy anymore.”
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as a college graduate, your father pushed you to leave the country. why? because you won’t leave his house otherwise. Japan, he said, is perfect, and you wouldn’t have to worry about getting a job because he had everything already covered. you should have asked why. you should have pressed him more before agreeing. because now, you’re stuck living with his old friend from high school, who also happens to be your new boss.
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ㅤ♡ professor!katsuki x friendsdaughter!reader
ㅤ♡ modern au
ㅤ♡ nsfw romance-MDNI ⋆ 20+ age gap ⋆ switching povs ⋆ calls you 'little girl' +
'brat' + sarcastically 'princess' ⋆ jealous!suki ⋆ eye-fucking ⋆ more tags on ao3
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ㅤ♡ a/n lol i did not edit this
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ㅤchapter one ⏮ chapter two ⏭
───────────────────────────────────────
katsuki
His gaze caught yours in an instant. What the fuck were you doing here?
Katsuki cleared his throat and reframed the sentence he had just stumbled over. He swiveled back to the board and wrote down a word that was not in his notes. “Autocracy.” He said, “What does it mean?”
It wasn’t long before a few hands shot up. He picked the first person that had acted. “Autocracy,” they repeated, it was a woman—early 20s. “To hold absolute power.”
“Yes,” he affirmed, leaning beside the word on the chalkboard with his arms crossed, “but what else?"
Another hand—this time a man, around the same age as the last student.
“Go on,” Katsuki nodded, hoping you were listening.
“The power in question is only held by one person, such as a monarch or dictator.”
“Very good,” he purred, eyes circling where you thought you were invisible. Katsuki tapped his fingers against the board. “Did everyone hear that? If you didn’t know before, now you do.” He huffed and tossed the chalk onto the podium. “Autocracy. That is what I have over this class.” And over you. However, it was clear you still weren’t getting it. Apparently he would have to be more clear about that.
He went quiet for a moment, mind reeling at all the ways he could have you begging.
“Heres another word for you,” he paused, "...Susceptible…” his eyes wandered up through his eyelashes, eyes finding yours once more. “What does it mean?”
Hands went up across the class, but he was waiting, watching, and then—instead of calling on someone—Katsuki walked down the stage steps, around the stage, and up the middle aisle. You were two seats into the row—he could see you visibly stiffen as he approached.
You kept your head down, tugging some of your hair in front of your face in an attempt to hide yourself. It was cute, in a way that was completely useless. “You.” His voice was eerily calm, even he was a little surprised
Katsuki leaned his body over the seat, hoping his looming presence would scare you into looking up…
It did.
“Sir?” Your tone was squeaky, like you had to clear your throat or something.
“What’s the definition?”
Though his focus was undeniably on you, he could feel how tension passed from student to student until the entire lecture hall was holding its breath.
“Do you not know?—” Katsuki felt his shit eating grin before it appeared. He knew he’d gotten to you with the way your head jerked upward, as if you were trying to look down on him. There was credit due here somewhere; you were so stubborn.
“Susceptible,” you repeated, “what a person is when they are easily influenced or harmed.”
“Good.” he cooed, “You lot are very smart.” He turned back around, speaking to the entire class now. When he turned back to you he raised an eyebrow. “Whya re you sitting so far from the rest of your peers? Sit closer next time.”
Katsuki turned, not exactly dragging his feet down the steps but getting very close to it only to be stopped by a tug on his shirt. “Professor?” One of his eyebrows twitched and he cocked his head to the side, watching you from the corner of his eye. “There was another thing, about the word I mean.”
Katsuki’s jaw locked, but he accepted your challenge readily. “So,” he peered down at you, hoping you felt smaller than you actually were under his gaze. “What else?”
You reached out, pointing at something on his shirt. He looked down, trying to catch what it was. However, rather than seeing a stain or wrinkle, it was your finger in his face and then tapping his nose. “A person who is easily influenced, harmed, or…”
You paused and he could tell it was only for dramatic effect. The class seemed to be watching intently now. He’d thought this would be fun at first, but now he knew he had to put an end to your stupid little, if he was reported fraternizing with a student like this—even if you technically weren’t a student—would give people the wrong idea about him.
“Affected by something.”
“You’re right.” Katsuki nodded, taking a step back. “That was overlooked on my part.”
He spun around, attempting to scurry down the steps. You probably didn’t even know what you were doing, what it would look like if he stayed bickering with you for even a moment longer. Katsuki knew better than anyone that at a certain point, arguing became flirting. It was his favorite kind.
He froze when your shoulder collided with his and you moved past him.
“Are you affected, Professor?”
Your whisper tickled his ear and he had to clamp a hand over it to keep it from turning red. What the hell was that? His red eyes darted around the room, hoping no one else had heard.
This was too much.
You were too much.
But damnit if you weren't good. Using his own strategy against him? If only he hadn’t forgotten the rest of that definition. Jesus—what was it about you that slowed the speed of the gears in his brain? Katsuki cursed internally and moved back down to the stage, catching the way you slid into a seat closer to the front.
He allowed the class to move into its final thirty minutes before dismissing everyone early. It wasn’t just that he was out of material, it was that he could no longer concentrate, not when you were watching him and he couldn’t watch you. It wasn’t fair, you shouldn’t be able to do what you wanted after you had explicitly disobeyed him. No, he wasn’t your father. So why were you acting like such a brat? Why was it so difficult for you to just listen? You were doing it on purpose, he had no doubt about that—but why? Because he’d said you couldn’t attend the fucking class? It was one class a week—two hours.
“You—” he watched you freeze midway through standing. “Come here.”
The rest of the class scurried out, probably wondering what had him so irked, but not being curious enough to stay and find out. Good. He didn’t want anyone else to see what he was about to make you do.
“So, ride home together or—”
You cut yourself off when Katsuki tugged you toward im by your wrist. He shoved you against his desk, his laptop still open and on the presentation site. “You like this don’t you?” He didn’t wait for an answer, choosing to tug your head up by your hair, forcefully exposing your throat. Katsuki leaned his head down, breathing in your scent. “Did you use my soap again?”
Your hands reached out to grab his arms, but he was stronger, and he was a lot taller than most his age—and not just that. With his broad shoulders and flexed muscles, he was bigger too. He wondered if you’d ever been with someone as big as him. That fucking bastard, even if you hadn’t he hated the idea of someone else having you.
It was sick.
Katsuki was sick.
He had to calm down. He had to breathe, that was the only way he could keep his dignity. “Disobecidence deserves punishment.” He saw the shiver that danced over your exposed skin, it had him smiling to himself. Maybe you did affect Katsuki more than he’d like to admit, but the same could be said about you.
Still, as obstinate as you were, Katsuki knew all the ways to break little girls like you.
─────────────────────────────────
you
He was hovering over you, chest pressing into yours, one leg forced between your thighs. Was he really about to do this? Was it really that easy? A day and he was already giving in? Were you just that good or was he just so weak? A grin crawled its way onto your lips and you stopped fighting him. Instead, you wrapped your fingers around his tie and tugged him closer. “I know you’re really mad at me right now,” you hummed, “but if I apologized, would you forgive me?” You toyed with his collar, adoring the way he tensed under your touch. Your head lifted before your eyes did, “Professor Bakugo?”
He smacked away your palm and took several steps back, nearly falling on his ass when his calves hit the stage wall. You tilted your head and pushed yourself onto his desk, dangling your legs back and forth.
“Your monologue at the beginning of class was hilarious, by the way.” One of your hands found a pen beside your thigh. “But please tell me you don’t seriously do that for every class.”
His hands flexed and you could see his jaw locking, those gears in his mind began twisting as if he was trying to figure out what to do with you.
You weren't afraid of him, but maybe you should have been. Oh well.
“So, Professor,” you leaned forward on your knees. “Why’s this class so important? Or is it not important at all? And you really were just trying to piss me off?”
“I wasn’t—” Katsuki breathed in. He looked angry or confused—you couldn’t decide.
Your neck lolled to the side and you yawned. “If that wasn’t it, then what? Tell me, I want to know.” You felt a snort building in your throat when he stepped toward you.
“It doesn’t matter because this is the last time you will be attending.”
“You know, I’m starting to think you don’t actually like me.” The annoying part was that, that was actually true. You really couldn’t know what he was thinking, if his expectations of you didn’t match quite up to the person you were. Ouch. Hurting your own feelings would do you no good.
“Who said that?” His lips curled up in a cruel grin when his hand landed on your shoulder, more gentle than you were anticipating. “Do you remember what I told you?” His fingers trailed over your jawn and your lips parted. “Autocracy.”
His breath coated your lips and you couldn’t help but press your thighs together.
“That is what I have.” His thumb—large and tough—passed over your pulse. “And Susceptible. That is what you are when it comes to me.”
“So then, are you going to punish me, Professor?”
His face screwed up and his hands fell from your face. “Don’t call me that.”
“What should I call you then?”
His eyes darted down at the brown leather watch on his wrist before meeting your gaze once more. How would he begin? By making you remove your clothes? Forcing you to lift up your skirt? Would he pleasure himself to you and make you watch all the while your arousal grew? Make you watch him without ever touching you? Just how would he hurt you? “I’ve already told you.” His glare was almost as strong as your amusement. Why was he so serious? He needed to loosen up.
“Could you tell me again?” Your fingers travelled up his arms, he was so damning. Your thighs pressed together and you could feel the wetness dampening your panties.
“I am not your friend.” He’d told you that last night, Rule Two.”
“I don’t want you to be.” You pulled him lower, wrapping your legs around his waist. You could feel his growing arousal. You wanted to moan, but for some reason you thought that would turn him away. He was huge—just how long would it take him? Fuck. You bit your lip at the thought—a great deal of filthy images merging into each other in your mind.
He was warm and he smelled like all the vulgar fantasies you'd ever thought up. Right here against his desk, would he really do it? Align himself, choke you while he made you take him? Would he talk you through it or whisper unseemly things meant for no one else but you?
“You should watch what you say.” His jaw tightened like he was actively trying to hold himself back. But why? Why couldn't he just give in? Why couldn’t he just hurt you the way you wanted to be hurt?
“Why?” You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “You want me right? I can feel it through your pants, so there's no need to lie.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He growled, wrinkled forming around his narrowed eyes. Jesus, could he be anymore attractive? Already you were imagining how he would feel inside you, what were his favorite positions? What type of woman did he prefer? Meek, shy ones he could control? Or did he like women like you? Women who shot off insults like it was flirting, woman who needed to be put in their place, woman he could fuck the brat out of?
God you hoped it was the ladder.
Maybe he liked the innocent religious girls, or the kind, basic ones—no. Katsuki Bakugo wasn’t the basic type—it was right there in his hungry stare. He liked to be in control, there was no even ground when it came to being him. He always had to be in control. That was how he fucked.
“Tell me then,” you toyed with his tie. “Tell me what you want.”
“Stop,” he said even as his hips pushed into you.
“I’m not doing anything.” You strained your thighs, growing impatient. Couldn’t he see how needy you were? Why wasn’t he just giving in already? What was stopping him? Did he really have a girlfriend or something? If so, why hadn’t you seen her? Why did he not mention her before?
“You know exactly what you’re doing.” His voice was sharp and cold, and his hands were moving before you could realize the situation. You were on your back in an instant, beneath his hard chest. He hovered over you, crotch pressing further into your pussy through your skirt. “And you’re really starting to piss me off. That’s Three Rules.”
“So punish me.”
A cruel snarl curled his lips upward to his lips. “Don’t worry, Princess. I will.”
You expected his hands to infiltrate your entrance—to taste up your thigh before unbuckling his belt and yanking his bruised, throbbing cock out. Onto your knees, like that image before in the Airport. You were anticipating this—for your first time, you had surely picked the right person. With decades of experience on you. God—was this what a craving was? Were you craving him?
There was another word for this—something dangerously close to the word love—but you didn’t know this man. You met him just last night—and here he was, already having you lust after him.
Your mouth fell open—just slightly—when his fingers traced your bottom lip. You wanted to choke on it, to be filled with every part of him until your vision blurred. You breathed through your nose when he wrenched you off his desk.
─────────────────────────────────
katsuki
There were so many things he could have done to you right then and there. So many things he wanted to do to you and he had come close—so close to doing all the ungodly things that had drifted into his mind.
“How much longer?” You came to a stop in front of him, hands braced against your knees as you attempted to catch your breath.
Katsuki checked his watch. “Five minutes.”
“Man,” you groaned, “This is so unfair.”
“Keep running,” he hummed, leaning back against his desk, stuffing his hands back into his pockets. He was enjoying this probably more than he would have enjoyed fucking you. Your angry little outbursts every few minutes, your energy slowly being drained—he loved every second of your misery.
“Asshole.”
“What was that?”
“Nothing!”
The time ticked by, five more minutes of you running around the lecture hall in that skimpy little outfit you thought was cute. His eye twitched when his phone pinged. A message—
He froze.
Your father’s name crossed his screen.
Right. Your father. His friend. His friend’s daughter. He had to grip the edge of his desk to balance himself.
How are you?
22:04
Fine.
22:04
You?
22:04
Doing well over here.
22:05
How is she? Getting used to Japan yet?
22:05
Katsuki’s jaw locked.
22:05
It’s only been a few days.
22:05
Right. I guess she must still be mad at me huh? 22:06
What could he say? You hadn’t mentioned your father once since meeting Katsuki, therefore he had no clue as to how you felt about your father. And more than that, he didn’t really think it was his place to get between your relationship even if his intentions were good—which they usually weren’t, but still.
“I’m starving!” Katsuki’s gaze snapped up to where you were, rounding the center of the hall. He couldn’t quite see it, but he knew you must have been sweating balls.
“Fine.” He grabbed his bag, “Let’s go.”
He walked past you, up the stairs, not missing the, “Wait for real?” That came after.
Your father hadn’t texted him again, he was thankful for that because he didn’t know what to say. You trailed behind him, but it was like he could see you, walking with a little pep in your step. Did you hate your father? Was it because he had made you come to Japan? Or was it something else?
Katsuki shook his head, he was overstepping. This wasn’t any of his business. Regardless of whatever your feelings were toward his old friend, he was responsible for you now. Him and only him—and maybe that was a little selfish, but he would sooner die than admit that to anyone—even himself. So it stayed nuzzled in the back of his mind, praying nobody found it.
“Let’s get McDonalds.” Katsuki’s face scrunched up when he slid into his driver seat.
“McDonalds?”
“What? You don’t like it?” He’d never been fond of fast food—it weakened the body and who knew what came from international food sources. He just couldn’t be exactly sure what he was eating.
“Let’s get something—
“Too bad!” You huffed, falling back against his passenger seat. “That’s what I’m craving right now.” He buckled his seatbelt and then watched you incredulously. “Go on,” you motioned with one hand, “Drive.”
Despite being irked, Katsuki moved the gearshift into reverse and pulled out of the campus. “You need to learn better manners. Did your parents never teach you or what?” Katsuki checked his rearview mirror before switching lanes.
There were plenty of cheap, fast food restaurants around the university. He’d been in multiple situations where he’d had to throw out students for eating this garbage in his class. It stunk up the place and made it hard to focus. He couldn’t believe he was intentionally pulling into one of their parking lots. What if one of his old students caught him ordering? He’d been very vocal about his distaste for these kinds of places—and yet here he was being a hypocrite.
Damn it was annoying. “We are not going inside.”
“Is there a drive thru?” You poked your head toward the rolled up window.
Katsuki blinked at what he wanted to call 20-year-old stupidity, but giving you the benefit of the doubt, maybe you were just really tired and hungry. He hoped that was all it was and that you didn’t actually think Tokyo didn’t have drive thru’s.
He pulled into the parking lot and around the side of the building, careful to keep his eyes in front of him and not on you. He’d made that mistake last night and he had a full day tomorrow—he couldn’t do it again.
He shivered when he rolled the window down, hoping a fucking mosquito didn’t think it was an invitation. “Hello, can I take your order?”
He squinted, pushing his glasses higher onto his nose. “Uhm—
“Wait, let me order.” Katsuki shot you a glare, but that didn’t seem to deter you, in fact it was as if you hadn’t seen it at all—that or you had just ignored it…
Yeah, he wouldn’t put it past you.
You leaned over the middle console, your arm pushing your breast up through your shirt. He forced his eyes away, back on the menu—jsut anywhere but you. But that wasn’t enough because he could still smell you. Sweat and something sweet. It had his mouth watering—he had to stop that. He couldn’t be treating you like this even if you were asking for it. He might have not been a gentleman, but Katsuki had a line he wouldn’ t cross, and unfortunately you sat on the other side of it.
He could finally breathe again when you spouted off whatever shit you were going to eat and he—though still heavily untrusting—ordered something that looked at least half-way decent. He didn’t know why he pulled out his card, he should have made you pay for your own food. You certainly seemed quick to raise an eyebrow about it.
“Thanks…” was your reply when he handed you the bag.
“Don’t thank me, it wasn't for you.” He didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh, but he couldn’t have you thinking he was going soft. He couldn’t have you seeing the things he was doing to you in his head.
“Fine. I take it back… Asshole.” You muttered the last bit, but he was too preoccupied with pulling into one of the stalls in the back without hitting another car to care.
“If you spill anything you’ll be cleaning out this car until I’m satisfied.” He huffed.
“Men and their stupid cars,” you rolled your eyes, reaching into the bag. You shoved it into his chest when you had your burger and fries. He didn’t miss the way you leaned the seat back and pulled your knees up to your breasts. Katsuki could have never done that—especially not in this tiny ass car.
“Excuse me for taking care of my things, I know you have trouble with that.”
Your eyes narrowed and your hand lifted the sandwich up to your mouth stilled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Katsuki didn’t bother checking to see if you were seriously irritated. “I thought you were smart. Figure it out.”
“Why not just tell me? Scared?”
Scared?
He had to bite into his food to contain the smirk that threatened to appear across his face.
You were so adorably ignorant.
…
you
He was strong—his arms wrapped around your body like he might break you while at the same time pulling you down on his hardened length. You screamed—tears streaming down your cheeks. He was so big—God it hurt—it hurt like hell, you could only swallow and take it.
“Oh yes,” he groaned, “such a good girl,” his face was flushed, but he acted as if he was in complete control. His gentle handling was nothing like what you had expected. His thumb brushed against your cheek, wiping away your tears while his other hands pressed into your back, forcing you down on his cock. “You’re doing so well,” he assured. “So well taking me like this.”
Your hands pressed into his chest, holding onto him like you would disappear if you didn’t. God—he felt amazing, he was filling you so well.
“Let me use you, okay?” He moved your thighs, over his lap, simulating your body as if you were riding him of your own free will. His voice was soothing—the completely opposite of what his words actually meant. But the room was dark and he was both hard and soft—and in your stomach.
His pace gradually sped up as your virgin hole attempted to get used to him. You were moaning into his neck now, wrapping your arms around his neck, walls sucking him in like it was always meant to be this way.
A shiver ran over you, and you were starting to grind against him, wanting him as close to you as physically possible. Your thighs were iron tight around his lap in this chair—the only sounds audible: the squelching of your juices, his heavy breathing, and your constant whimpers.
Fuck—
“AHH!”
You sat up, eyes wide, hair a mess and pushed yourself back, hitting your head against the headboard.
“What the hell!?”
“Language.”
Katsuki Bakugo, your housemate, father’s friend, and employer. And apparently a major dick in the morning. “It’s too early for this.” You shifted back down, ignoring his hard gaze—your heart fell into your stomach—were you just having a sex dream about him?
No way—it was blurry, there was no face, there was no way it was him— “Get up.”
“Ohhh—” You winced and lifted your arms over your face when he ripped the curtains open.
“Up,” he said. “Now.”
His expression left no room for debate—but still. What time was it? Too fucking early.
You rubbed the crust out of your eyes and yawned, stomach already rumbling. “Make me breakfast.”
He scoffed. “Do I look like a servant?”
You took his question into mock consideration, assessing his black dress shirt and matching slacks. “You look like the owner of a secret orgry club.” The face he made had your stomach aching from more than hunger. “You should see your face!”
“Can you ever just be decent? Or is acting like a libertine your specialty?”
“Maybe you’re just taking being a prude too far.”
The old man scoffed like it wasn’t true. Then he paused, expression turning flat. “Get up. Get dressed. We’re leaving in an hour.”
“An hour?” You groaned, throwing your head back against your pillow.
You would have stayed in bed a while longer, but you knew he wasn’t joking—and if you wanted to eat, shower, and fix your disheveled appearance decent, you would have to listen and get the fuck up. But damn was it annoying.
You stood and in the clothes you had thrown on the night before. You’d been too tired last night to do anything more than rinse off. Another yawn fell from your mouth as you made your way to the common bathroom. It sat on the other side of the hall, closer to the stairs than your room—as for your room, the old man’s wasn’t too far from it, just a few feet away at the very end of the hall.
Yours was big, but he was bigger, now that wouldn’t have bothered you much if you didn’t have to shower across the hall while he got to stay in the comfort of his four walls. But if you complained he might make you run laps again—you still couldn’t believe he’d made you do that. The absolute audacity! He knew you weren’t a child right? He’d said it himself, you weren’t helpless—
A frown tugged your expression downward. You had expected last night to go a whole lot different than how it did. You had been so sure Katsuki Bakugo had given in—that he’d let himself be wrapped around your finger. No, apparently he wasn't that easy—but why? You knew you were attractive—and more than that you were a virgin despite how—what was it he had called you? Libertine? Yeah, despite how coquettish he’d claimed you were. You were sure most men—men his age—were attracted to things like that, but maybe you had your fact wrong. It’s not like you had any real experience anyway.
Oh!
Maybe that’s why he was unsure about it. Because he was there—he had to have been.
Maybe the old man preferred his woman's experience. Did he like them older? If that were really the case you were just shit out of luck, weren't you?
You chewed on your thumb as you made your way across the hall, slippers smacking against the hardwood. One of the housemaids, a middle aged woman—with sleek black hair pulled into a bun—watched you from the end of the hall, where the professor had stalked off to. Your lips pressed together of their own accord and you waved awkwardly. She stared, expression unreadable. She hadn’t been the one to show you to your room—that had been a much older lady, maybe in her late 60s or early 70s.
This woman looked much less friendly. Her face screwed up for just a second before she turned away, following the footsteps of her boss. What was her deal? Seriously, it was like you couldn’t catch a fucking break.
The shower pressure was just as sucky as it was in his room. Add that to the growing list of things you needed to fix around this place. Decor. That’s what makes a home feel like a home—and as far as you were concerned, this house was a graveyard.
Hot water dampened your hair until it soaked your naked body. Your eyes fell shut when you tilted your head back, running your fingers through the knotted parts, attempting to untangle them without conditioner. The steam from the shower took over the rest of the bathroom in mere minutes, but still your nipples hardened. You let your fingers travel around your stomach—and then up, feeling yourself up.
If it were him, how would he touch you? His hands would be rough, wouldn't they? His fingers were quite long, would they tease your cunt before forcing their way inside? Your head hit the wall of the shower, knocking you out of your depraved daydream.
“Hurry up!” It was Katsuki—the old man banging on the bathroom door. Your face soured, didn’t he know anything about privacy? He always had to ruin a good time, didn’t he?
Your hand continued down the path of your thigh and your other hand reached up to wrap around your own throat. Between your legs you found you were wet from more than just the shower. God, you were so horny in the morning. A needy whine spilled from your throat when the first inch of your fingers pushed into your pussy.
Another whine threatened to break free when you tightened your hold around your throat. Your thighs clamped around your hand, attempting to ride it without any support. You might’ve been a virgin, but masturbation was nothing new to you.
“Hey.” You froze, hearing the bathroom door slam open. “Did you hear me? You have less than 3 minutes.”
“Busy!” You panted, so incredibly thankful for the shower covering the sound of your dirty actions. Though, having him right outside the curtain like this, while you pleasured yourself to the thought of him—it was hot.
“I’m serious. I’ll drag you out myself if I have to, we will not be late.” His voice was gruff, was he picturing what you looked like right now? Naked and vulnerable? Probably, if the old perv was already comfortable invading your personal space like this.
Would he really pull you out of the shower? Would he not mind how wet and tempting you’d look?
Part of you believed it.
─────────────────────────────────
you
The professor in fact did not pull you out of the shower. Instead, you were nearly late to your first class. You weren’t though! Something he seemed to keep forgetting.
“The next time you make us late—
“We weren’t late—”
“Stop cutting me off—”
You stared.
He stared back.
God he was hot.
It was so unfair.
“Stay here, I’ll be back.”
“Where are you going?” He didn’t reply, he didn’t even look back as he left you in this too big lecture hall. Why had you even expected him to? The man was too full of himself, always acting as if he were better than everyone else in the room. Hot take, being the oldest did not equal being the smartest.
You kicked up your feet and leaned back in his chair, where you sat most of class. There was only one other scheduled, the 16:00 one, and then you could lounge around the house the rest of the day. Whatever Katsuki brought back, he better bring two of them, or you’d steal his.
Katsuki.
It was his first name, though you’d never really used it. There was no special reason, but it sounded weird on your tongue now. Maybe it was the lack of saying it before, but it just felt more intimate.
You opened your mouth, “Ka–” you lifted your fingers to your lips as if it would make it easier, but it sounded just as awkward. You fisted your hands. Again. “Kat-suki…?”
A groan fell out of your throat and you let your head fall back. This was so stupid. Why was it so hard to say his fuckass name?
“Katsuki.” It came out quickly.
Again.
“Katsuki.”
He said your name all the time.
“Katsuki—”
“Oh, are you looking for him too?” Your head snapped up.
“What?”
The man—late thirties at least—chuckled. “Katuski, the old English professor?” This man eyed you with one raised brow. “Is that… his chair?”
“I—”
“Don’t talk to her.” Snapped, again. At this point why not just make a fucking meme out of yourself.
“Katsuki!” The man turned with his hands in the air as if readying for a hug.
“Don’t touch me.”
“Oh, come on.” The professor passed his friend or whoever that man was and slid onto the edge of his desk, something he often did when he was taking attendance. This time, however, he turned toward you, shifting one leg between your own, letting it dangle there as if it owed him something.
His narrowed stare glued you to the seat, even as he slid a bag of candy in front of you.
Something passed between the two of you, though you couldn’t quite name it. He didn’t say the bag was for you, but it was all but implied, and for some reason, felt more intimate than calling him Katsuki.
You blinked, a silent thank you right before the other man cleared his throat. “Is this the assistant you were telling me about?”
The professor’s head turned, expression resigned. “Let’s talk outside.”
“But why?” Brown eyes flickered over to you. He was handsome, but nowhere near as gorgeous as your boss.
“Because I said so.”
His tone garnered no room for protest, and the stranger must have caught that too, because he followed Katsuki without complaint.
Katsuki.
You shook your head, it still felt too weird. But calling him Mr. Bakugo or anything didn’t sound any better.
You took the bag in your hand and ripped into it just as a call came through. Your face soured. Your father. What did he want? Another lecture about how to behave? To respect your elders? Yeah, no thanks. You were good.
He didn’t call back after you declined his first attempt, but moments later, a message did appear across your screen. The first one since your arrival in Japan. Was it the professor? Had he said something to tip your father off about your behavior? No, that didn’t seem like something he would do… But then again, you didn’t know this man. Three nights—if that.
But still, you saw no point in responding—or even looking at the text. If it were really important, he’d have called back, and maybe you would have answered—but he hadn’t.
─────────────────────────────────
katsuki
You were acting strange, strange in a way that Katsuki found himself trying to figure out what was wrong while never wanting to ask you directly.
You had grown popular among the staff in the English Department over the next month, mainly for being his assistant. When he’d agreed to your father’s favor, there had been an underlying rule—one that hadn’t needed to be said out loud. It was obvious you were attractive, just how attractive, Katsuki hadn’t known until the night of your meeting. Then, he’d taken more issue with the way you’d affected him. Now, the issue of how other men are perceiving you is more precedent.
Usually, he diverted questions about you and absolutely refused to introduce any of his colleagues despite how much they tended to beg. Even the youngest of them were too old for you. It was Katuki’s job to take care of you and if that meant blocking certain men from access, then so be it.
He told himself it was normal, that he was just looking out for his friend’s daughter. Though, in reality, that just made it a whole lot worse… At night—when you were washing off, his door remained open, and if he lingered near the front of his room, he’d be able to catch your figure—clad in only a towel—filter across the hall and into your room. You weren’t ever rushing, but still, your room wasn’t that far from the bathroom on the other side.
His eyes travelled from the side of your face to your exposed collarbone, and then down to the parts forbidden.
He took a step back and shut his door. Doing things like this only ensured to fuel the desire he wasn’t permitted. Katsuki knew these thoughts shouldn’t even be something he was trying to suppress, and yet he couldn’t stop them—but he could control them. He would not act on these feelings, he would not lose himself to something so selfish.
But in the back of his mind, whenever he rested his eyes there you were. Your face, your voice, your body—it was all there. He was good at ignoring it during the day; it was easy to forget those thoughts when he was crowded with work. Night is what had him in a bind. He couldn’t not see you—fuck was even starting to smell you now—
“What—”
“Wow, it is really plain.”
Katuski’s eyes narrowed as he watched you step further into his room. What were you— “What are you doing here?”
He didn’t miss the slight smirk that appeared on your lips if only for a moment. “You have a visitor. It’s super late, so I thought it must be important.”
A visitor? This late? He grabbed his phone from his side table and pulled up the camera feed.
“They’re at the gate. I don’t know the password to let them in,” he could see you shrugging from the corner of his eyes, but he was too entranced in the CCTV to say anything.
“Just who…” Katuski’s shoulder’s slumped.
“You don’t look happy at all.”
“Do you enjoy antagonizing me?”
“Very much.” Your reply was quicker than he would have liked, and so he stared at you, irritation showing itself in the form of a vein around his neck. He could feel it bulging, quite like something else that needed taking care of.
“You’re a pain.”
“Sounds endearing.”
He couldn’t deny that. But he could deny the way you were looking at him—eyes lowered, lips pursed in a pretty little put, your expression screamed condescension. You were reducing him to what he kept hidden below his garments, weren’t you? It was perverted, but something he’d expected nonetheless. Your previous advances hadn’t been as conspicuous as you would have liked to believe. Katsuki wasn’t wondering if you were trying to seduce him, he was curious as to why. What were your intentions? To piss off your father? If that were truly the reason, he wanted no part in it.
But if you weren’t… And if you really found him attractive…
Katsuki wrapped a hand around the side of his neck and chanced a glance at you. “Hmm hmm,” you were grinning, of course you were—was there ever a time when you weren’t? Katsuki couldn’t think of one.
He exhaled and his shoulders drooped. “Stay here.”
“If you insist.” Before he could redirect his words to, “Stay in your room,” you threw yourself onto his bed, nuzzling into the side that had already been ruffled by him. He opened his mouth to say something more, but then thought that there would be no point, because all you would do was repeat his words, and that was something Katuski could not take back—much like the favor that had landed him in this situation—he wasn’t a God after all.
He padded down the steps as quickly as he could, fingers already typing out a text to the man he knew sat outside. The code lock sat hidden beneath a painting near the front for. Mostly it was hidden so unwanted people couldn’t invite themselves inside, but Katsuki also didn’t mind how much better the painting looked compared to a silver hatch.
He watched the red car pull up the driveway, parking right beside the garage. “Get in.”
“Read my text.”
He did. And Katsuki saw it the moment disbelief hit his friend—if he could even call this man that. “You’re not serious. Come on, it’s been ages. Let’s go out.”
Katsuki trudged down the steps and leaned over the car's window. “What would your wife say?”
“She’s fine with it, trust me dude.”
“Don’t call me that.” Katsuki’s eyebrows furrowed. They weren’t in high school anymore, hadn't been for a very long time yet Eijiro still seemed to think calling a fourty-three year old man ‘Dude’ was appropriate. “Seriously—”
“Let’s go, we’re not getting any younger!”
“I—
“Wait—you can’t go!”
Katsuki’s heart dropped. He spun around, eyes tracking up the stairs and then up your exposed legs, your cardigan draped over a spaghetti strap. He faced Eijiro once more, intending on explaining before the idiot came up with some sort of perverted conclusion—but the man was… looking away from him? Was that a side eye or…?
“I never expected something like this from you of all people, I guess it can happen to anyone—”
“What are you talking about?”
“Hey, old man, who’s this?”
“No one you need to know about—”
“Eijiro, nice to meet you.”
Annoyance slammed into Katsuki, why were you so eager to talk to every man you met? Did you know what kind of people existed in the world? Had your father not taught you anything about stranger fucking danger? God, if he wasn’t here where the hell would you have ended up? In a back alley with a bunch of thugs? Or worse—he didn’t want to think about worse.
He stepped between you and his old friend, turning his glare onto you and prying your hand away. “I thought I told you to stay in my room.”
You averted your gaze and shrugged, “I got bored.”
“That’s not an excuse.”
“So, you were in Katuski’s room?” Katuki didn’t like the insinuation that came with that question.
“Yep.” You, however, seemed oblivious to what Eijiro was actually asking. No, more like you didn’t care what he thought of your relationship with Katsuki. That desire coaled around his waist—the need to punish you, to put you in your place. He had come close to it a few days ago: Monday night.
It was Friday now, late and Katsuki would have been out without Eijiro trying to force him—but you were here. And for some reason, Katsuki didn’t like leaving you alone at night. He didn’t like leaving you alone period, knowing you could just uber your way anywhere—he wasn’t keen on finding you hooking up with some random person. What if you weren’t careful? What if you fell pregnant? There were just too many cons that came with leaving you, and so Katsuki had accepted that until he found could trust you, he wouldn’t.
“Katsuki—bro, I didn’t know…”
“Don’t make it sound like something it isn’t.” Katsuki’s eyes rolled, “Go home.”
“Come on, your friend can come too.”
“Can I?”
“No.” Katsuki needed to stop whatever this was right now. “Eijiro, I’m serious.”
“When are you not?” Katuki’s eyes narrowed and his teeth bared just slightly. You were being a little brat and you knew it.
“That doesn’t matter. Don’t get into the habit of conversing with strangers.”
“I’m not a stranger.”
“He’s your friend, isn’t he?”
“He’s a stranger to you, and that’s all that matters.”
“Aw, old man, are you worried about me? That’s so sweet.”
Your hands drifted toward his waist, tugging at his fitted shirt, but before you could reach any further he snatched your wrist. “Don’t just go around touching people, either.”
Eijiro whistled and when Katsuki turned his eyes back up, his friend avoided his gaze. Great. Now he’d definitely gotten the wrong idea.
“I’ll leave tonight, Kacchan. But tomorrow, you’re coming with me.” And Katsuki hated the way his eyes turned to smug slits when they so clearly found yours. “And you little lady, you can come too.”
Eijiro left without another word from either party. Katsuki had been stunned into silence, and you—well, he couldn’t know what was going through your head. He was sure, though, that it wasn’t anything good.
─────────────────────────────────
you
“You’re not coming.”
“I’d beg to differ.”
He’d followed you to your room, and now stood in the doorway with his arms crossed. “What are you doing?”
“Well, I can’t just go in my work clothes, now can I?”
“Good thing you don’t have to worry about that. You’re not going.”
The way he enunciated every last word had you scowling as you sifted through your closet. “You can’t tell me what to do, besides, I was invited, wasn’t I? It’d be nice to get out of this stuffy house for a change.”
“You threw out my clothes, you owe me at least this much.”
“I wouldn’t have thrown out your shit if you wouldn’t have put it in my hamper. I told you a month ago you’re not a child and that remains true doesn’t it?”
“Well, it sure doesn’t feel like it with you breathing down my back, telling me what I can and can’t do.”
He went silent after that. You must have hit a nerve, but it wasn’t like you weren’t telling the truth. He was acting as if you were some underaged teenager planning illegal activities. It was such a stupid argument, you couldn’t even begin to contemplate what his goal was.
When you glanced over your shoulder, you found him glaring at you. When wasn’t he glaring at you? It seemed like that’s all he knew how to do. What was it his friend had called him? Oh, that’s right. “Kacchan.” The name felt lighter—easier to say than Professor, and unlike his name, it didn’t hold weight. It was teasing, perfect, especially at getting him to shut up. “What’s wrong? Embarrassed?”
“Hey,” your heart fell into your ass when he appeared behind you, crowding you into your bed.
“Woah—” your nervous laugh was cut short by the look in his eyes. Deep, hungry red eyes. Sin in flesh and bone. That’s what he’d looked like—was he able to to turn it off and on like a switch? He was so close, you could hear his breathing—was he angry? Or was something else… “You should shut the door first to give a lady some privacy…” He evidently did not find your joke at all amusing. He was quiet, but his gaze spoke for him. His pupils dilated as they tracked down your body. “Kacchan?”
“You like testing with me, don’t you?” His voice was thick with something dangerous. “You should be more careful.” He lifted your arms above your head, pinning your wrists down with one hand, using the other to caress your cheek. This is what you had wanted from the very beginning Before you’d known who he was—before he’d drawn a line in the sand because of who you were. If you hadn’t met like this—under any other circumstances, would he have taken you without a second thought? Would he still need to restrain himself? Would you affect him as much as you had been? All those nights he’d ended up not coming home, where had he been? Why did you care—he was a man and nothing more, he was your boss and your father’s friend, and yet you wanted him. More than you were willing to admit to yourself in the moment.
And yet you still found yourself asking him, “Why?” Wanting to be as close to him as possible, wanting to be the only thing he wanted—the only woman he saw—was it all really just lust? Or maybe…
“I’m not a good man.”
“I never claimed you were.” You clocked the moment his jaw locked. He tried to work around it, tried to hide it—you didn’t know why. You knew what your teasing did to him—what the thought of your body did to him. Katsuki Bakugo was a possessive man, and he hadn’t yet realized it—but was it because he was truly worried about the men you were around, or because he couldn’t have you?
The lights in the hallway seemed to dim and the air around you grew strained. His face was inches from yours, pained and frustrating to look at. Why couldn’ t he just give in? Did he know what you were? Did he not like the responsibility of taking a woman’s virginity? If that was the case maybe you could find someone to help with that. Why did it feel like he was always holding back on you—on everyone? Like there were dark thoughts in the deepest parts of his brain he couldn’t let anyone ever see. How dirty did his mind get? How many times this month had he thought of you? Touched himself to you? God, the thought of him trying to keep it a secret was turning you on more than his leg between your thighs.
He shook his head, but his fingers didn't stop. They traced the outline of your throat, and then along your collarbone. He touch was gentle, it was confusing—conflicitng with the hungry expression. A shiver ran up your spine when those eyes found yours once again. An ache built in your stomach, and perhaps it was an accident the way he pushed his knee further into you. But you suspected the opposite was true. “It’s so obvious.” Your voice was no more than a whisper, but it garnered his attention like it always did. “Why hold back?”
He bit out a cold, humorous laugh. “Oh, sweetheart,” his fingers trailed around your pulse, slowly pushing down on it. Your inhale was quick and sharp, almost like your body was telling you not to trust him. Too bad you were tone deaf. “You couldn’t handle me.”
But you could. You knew you could—you had that faith in yourself. “I like when you call me sweetheart.”
His stare burned like he was trying to gauge a reaction, “Don’t get used to it.”
“—Kacchan,” you scoffed at the way his grip tightened around your wrists. They’d likely have bruises blossoming in the morning. “Why do you pretend to know everything about me?” You moved your legs around his waist and pulled him closer. There it was—his cock. It wanted out, it wanted to sink into a needy, tight, little pussy—you could give that to him, why couldn't he understand that? He would fill every inch of you—fuck you could already imagine the feeling. A grunt fell from his mouth, and you knew you had him. He was nearly gone—nearly yours—
“Don’t,” but his voice was strained, and his teeth were bared. “I use women. I don’t care about them when I’m done.” Oh, he was angry now, did he want to reassert dominance? A grin stretched your mouth upward because you had absolutely no problem with that. “You couldn’t handle that…” he paused, eyes tracing every inch of your body, as if he’d never see it again. “Could you?”
Was he really asking that? What kind of woman would subject herself to someone she would never have again? A crazy woman—one with nothing to lose…
Were you that crazy? Did you want him that badly? Could you throw away whatever you might feel for one amazing night? What would living with him be like after? Back to normal? No, whatever this was, it’d never be the same because he was completely serious, and you didn’t know. You’d never had sex—had never had the opportunity to be so intimate with anyone before… Though that never stopped you from fantasizing about it, you knew it wasn’t the same thing. You’d never loved another person—had he? Why did that sour your stomach?
“Thought so.” Apparently your silence was enough. And you hated it.
Hated the way he backed off, the way he released you, expression almost tone of devastation. It looked like it had pained him to let go, but why? Hadn’t this all just been a ploy to get you not to go out or something? Hadn’t he said he’d never touch you that way—so then why did he look so… conflicted?
His gaze remained on yours, but mentally, he had pulled away. You should have said something, you should have told him that it was fine—that you didn’t mind it being a one time thing even if you weren’t sure. But wouldn’t that just be throwing away your self-respect? But you sat up and watched him back toward the door, you thought anything would be better than the way he just left you. Cold, alone, and missing his weight.
Maybe you should have said something…
─────────────────────────────────
katsuki
Was he fucking insane? No, he was just blind, blind to the fact that he wanted you. God, he wanted you so badly and yet everything he’d said remained true. He didn’t care for women in a relationship, sex was a different story, but he didn’t want that. He didn’t want a relationship, he wanted someone who would shove his cock down their throats one night and pretend they’d never met every night after.
Katsuki didn’t fucking do relationships. He’d never been into that kind of shit—he’d been single his entire life and that wasn’t about to change because some horny little twenty-something year old was constantly trying to jump him.
And the thing was, Katsuki would’ve never had a problem with taking you back to one of his hotel rooms. If he had met you in any other circumstance, save for work—he would’ve done exactly that. But he hadn't. And more than that, he knew your father—had promised to take care of you. Is that what he was doing by thinking of you in such ways? By feeling whatever this thing was for you? No, he was wrong for this. No matter how he thought about it, it was wrong.
He wanted to slam his door shut, but how would you take it? Just because he was frustrated with the situation didn’t mean he had to take it out on the things around him. Besides, this house was fairly expensive, and he really didn’t feel like paying for any damages caused for simply having a weak mind.
He needed to work out his cock right now, of course he’d gotten hard, who the fuck wouldn’t? You—you were just something else. He couldn’t explain it to anyone, much less understand it his damn self.
Think of something else.
He told himself.
Just think of anything fucking else.
Something unfuckable. Grannies—fucking Deku. Eijiro—he covered his mouth, stomach flipping sickly at the thought of those two idiots.
It was going down, that was good at least. He could breathe now, finally.
More than half his age, his friend's daughter. Was it the fact that he couldn’t have you that made him want you so? That must have been it, there was no other explanation.
He ran a hand through his hair, matted with sweat, and tugged off his shirt. He needed a shower, he needed to clear his mind—maybe he needed a break from having sex at all. Was that it? That he’d been doing it too much? Was that all he thought about now?
A half scoff, half laugh fell out of his throat. But his work wasn’t impacted—just his need… His desire for you. It had grown over the past month into something monstrous. “Fuck.” This wasn’t helping.
When his hand pressed down on himself, he let out a hiss. It was asking for pussy, but not just any pussy. Why did he do this to himself? Why did he pretend he could have you? Even if you had said yes, there was no way he’d believe that. He knew women—and from what he’d gathered, you weren’t experienced—and there was absolutely no fucking way he was going to help with that.
He needed a drink, and the housekeepers had already gone home for the day which meant he needed to go get it himself. And chance running into you again? It wasn’t like he could avoid you, this was so incredibly childish of him and yet here he was, sticking his head out the crack in his door to make sure you were still safely tucked in your room.
It was an odd choice of wording, like you wouldn’t be safe if you did come out into the hall, which was completely untrue. Katuski wasn’t that kind of man—he’d never do anything against your will… Unless you liked that kind of thing— No. He had to stop thinking about you in a sexual aspect—in any aspect. Where the hell was that bourbon again? In the cellar? Nah, he’d keep it closer on hand. Fuck, why couldn’t he remember? His bulge wasn’t growing any smaller.
In the kitchen, the lights were off, but that was fine—light or no light, he knew his way around his house, he’d owned it for over fifteen years; it'd be embarrassing if he didn’t. In the safe behind the painting of the Itsukushima Shrine, then. Yeah, it had to be there.
His phone went off before he’d gotten across the kitchen, but he only looked at the message after typing in the seven digit code.
Something’s up with you.
22:19
Kill yourself.
22:20
He set his phone onto the bar beside the old bottle and headed for the cabinets behind him. Diamond cut lowball glasses sat in a neat row on the lowest shelf. He plucked one off and spun around, intent on adding ice.
Katsuki knew he was right, it wasn’t a good idea for you to go tomorrow. It wasn’t a good idea for anyone—he knew especially for him. Because what he would do if he saw anymore of your exposed limbs—or rather if anyone else got a glimpse at what was—
He stopped himself. What the hell was he saying? You weren’t property. You weren’t even his to claim. And yet, his cock couldn’t seem to take a fucking hint. He growled, forcing the cork off with a metal screw. He couldn’t get the whiskey in the glass fast enough before throwing it back in four giant gulps.
Christ, he wiped his lips, cock still trying to burst through his pants, he was fucked.
He was glad Eijiro hadn’t texted back, it made it easier to ignore what he’d said, and what he knew was true.
Katsuki scrolled through a few work emails, RSVPing a few meetings he had no choice but to attend. If he could get out of that shit, he would. At least you didn’t have to attend—most of the men there didn’t know how to keep their eyes to themselves, and Katsuki really didn’t feel like losing his job because he’d punched one of his colleagues over your dignity. He was a knight in shining armor, he wasn’t defending you because you deserve it or anything—as selfish as it was, he did it for himself. Because he hated the thought of another man thinking he could get away with internally fucking you. Not if he had anything to say about it.
Kacchan.
You had called him Kacchan.
Hearing his childhood nickname fall from your slips hadn’t been something he’d expected. It was terrifying, how warm he’d felt… It’d taken everything in him to not react, but part of him knew his silence had tipped you off anyway.
It was annoying, fuck—you were annoying. You affected him—you did, and he couldn’t have you. He had to go on knowing this face no matter how many times you threw yourself at him or how many times he nearly lost control, he could never have you the way he wanted, and fuck if it didn’t hurt.
Why couldn’t you have just been a guy? It would have made this whole situation much fucking easier because then he wouldn’t be sitting at his fucking kitchen counter drinking his emergency stash of fucking bourbon.
He sighed into his newly filled glass, the strong sweetness of the alcohol filled his senses, but all he could smell was you, and your hair. He’d been so close to you—so close so many times, and now he couldn’t get that damn smell out of his head.
If you were a guy, he would’ve never gotten that close. If you were a man, he wouldn’t be questioning his morality every waking second, and he certainly wouldn’t be dreaming of plunging his veiny cock into your tight little cunt.
───────────────────────────────────────
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taglist
OCTOBER 1 first time satoru gojo
OCTOBER 2 one night kei tsukishima
OCTOBER 3 spanking kakashi hatake
OCTOBER 4 overstimulation ryomen sukuna
OCTOBER 5 bondage shoto todoroki
OCTOBER 6 thighgasm wakatoshi ushijima
OCTOBER 7 deepthroating tobio kageyama
OCTOBER 8 predator/prey itachi uchiha
OCTOBER 9 aphrodisiac seishiro nagi
OCTOBER 10 breathplay sasuke uchiha
OCTOBER 11 age gap satoru gojo
OCTOBER 12 bratting kakashi hatake
OCTOBER 13 begging seishiro nagi
OCTOBER 14 power play kakashi hatake
OCTOBER 15 hate sex satoru gojo
OCTOBER 16 mind control ryomen sukuna
OCTOBER 17 exhibitionism daichi sawamura ft. koshi sugawara
OCTOBER 18 roleplay katsuki bakugo
OCTOBER 19 pornstar shoto todoroki
OCTOBER 20 pseudo-incest itachi uchiha
OCTOBER 21 predicament shoto todoroki
OCTOBER 22 creampie satoru gojo
OCTOBER 23 cnc tobio kageyama
OCTOBER 24 masochisim katsuki bakugo
OCTOBER 25 stalking shoto todoroki
OCTOBER 26 cumdump sasuke uchiha
OCTOBER 27 blackmail wakatoshi ushijima
OCTOBER 28 fuck or die ryomen sukuna
OCTOBER 29 agoraphilia wakatoshi ushijima
OCTOBER 30 petplay kei tsukishima
OCTOBER 31 costumes katsuki bakugo
Sukuna and Choso are your roomies and they do not understand the word privacy! constantly just walking in while you're taking a shower, taking over your bed - If they're gonna be that way, you could at least get backshots, but no! They'd rather play Mario Kart and manspread with you on the couch. Sukuna keeps throwing you off rainbow road, (rude!) which leads to your own revenge - cucking him.
pairings - choso x reader x sukuna
warnings- fingering, lots of titty worship, nipple sucking, edging, making Choso whimper, cucking tf outta Kuna in a pink chair lol, petty reader (I luv her) yandere tendencies (both boys) p in v sex, creampie, cum swallowing, ragebaiting kuna -4k
this was a commission for my baby @martianzmars ahhh this is like our fourth one!? I luv u sm!!! - pt 2 here!
art is from @/679sora on IG
Sukuna and Choso are by far the most annoying roommates a girl could have – constantly in your space, always eating all your favorite snacks, not allowing you any privacy. Shower? They’re standing in the damn bathroom talking to you, thinking you can masturbate in peace? No, they wanna come hang out in your room all the time!
Not just in the apartment either – no, they don’t even let you go anywhere without them, the couple times they have they’ve come to the parties and made sure they were on either side of you, fending off any of the men. Aside from work and classes they’re not in, the two men tag along anywhere – up to and including getting manicures.
It was pretty cute to see them get their nails painted black, and how ticklish they get when they’re getting pedicures – but to have no alone time? To have no girls nights out, no they go to those too, heaven help if a guy maybe tries to talk to you, the two of them make sure anyone who is brave enough to approach is sent off running.
You love having them around, even when the two giant men just take over your entire bed, big ass arms all heavy and weighing you down when you wake up. Maybe you wouldn’t mind that if either of them used their cocks that were pressing on either side of you, but no they just snuggle you closer, leaving you soaking wet and aching, unable to use any of your toys in peace.
Menaces, they’re menaces.
Choso is an adorable menace, a sweetheart – but menace nonetheless. Sukuna was more outspoken with how insane he was, he lived to fuck with you, once he thought it would be funny to hide your dildo collection you’re so proud of. You didn’t talk to him for a week after that, until he groveled and bought you a brand new one for your addition.
Little did you know – Sukuna had it moulded to fit his cock exactly, the thought that you were getting stretched out by his shape made it even sweeter when he heard your soft little whines. When he’d jerk it in his room, groaning and tilting his head against that wall like a pervert.
Sometimes he’d use your panties to cum, he loved when you couldn’t find them and got all upset – he even took your scrunchies because they smell like your shampoo. Okay maybe Sukuna’s a bit obsessed with you, but is Choso much better?
No, he’s not, Choso is just a little sneakier, thinking of fucking you and jerking it when he’s in the shower and you’re talking to him, trying to muffle his moans as he pictures you right on your knees.
Not that you’re aware of any of it.
Even now, they’re smushing you between them on the couch, manspread thighs against your own, you never get any space with these two.
“Hah, i’ll throw your ass right off rainbow fucking road,” Sukuna’s grinning like the psycho he is when he nudges your cart, your cute little Yoshi flying off.
“Ugh, you dick!”
“Sukuna,” Choso sighs and shakes his head. “Stop throwing her off.”
“Stop throwing her off,” you smack him with his mocking tone, getting back onto the road and speeding up. “Hah!”
“Not again!? You’re such a jerk!”
“I’ll avenge you angel,” Sukuna rolls his eyes when Choso runs Sukuna off the road, and his bowser goes flying, you snicker in laughter as Sukuna crashes out.
“Choso, my hero!”
“I’ll come fucking get the both of you,” Sukuna’s locked in, brows lowered – far too close to you now as if the couch isn’t big enough for him, his biceps flexing in a concerning ass way that makes you stop driving. “What brat, ya done?”
“I um…” you blink and focus once more, in time for Choso to lean forward, his elbow resting on your bare thigh so casually.
Casual.
You’re ovulating and losing mario kart!
“Mnh…”
They both look at you and you cover your face in embarrassment, slick dribbling down your inner thighs – you’re always wet around them but today is too fucking much, how many times a day can you change your panties? You could swear they keep coming up missing too.
“You all right angel?” Choso asks softly, tilting his head and looking at you far too closely, hand on your cheek. “You’re warm! Do you have a fever?”
“N-no,” Sukuna scoffs and yanks the remote from your hands, feeling your head for himself.
“You are warm, brat, better not be sick,” he tilts your chin up and smirks. “You lost big time, hah you suck.”
“Ugh!” You shove at him once more. “You suck! I’m fine!”
You three play another round and Sukuna won’t stop knocking you off, sending your car into a tailspin, you get so damn mad at him you toss the remote on the floor. Sukuna snorts when you cross your arms.
“Looking like a little spoiled brat.”
“I am not! You’re just rude!”
“Tch, can’t even lose a game,” you’re so irritated and so horny you can’t think right now, just glaring at the pink haired menace. “Don’t feel bad, I beat you at every single game, don’t I?”
“Sukuna stop,” Choso sets his remote down, wrapping a protective arm and tugging you against him. “Leave her alone, you’re really being a dick over it.”
“I am competitive, she’s the sore loser.”
“You’re not competitive, you’re being an ass,” you snuggle to Choso now and he blushes, your lips against his neck, tickling his skin.
“Thank you Cho,” you murmur, pressing a kiss, he sucks in a breath, hand tightening at your waist, Sukuna glares at the sight, smacking Choso’s hand right off you. “Hey!”
“You’re mad she’s snuggling to me.”
“Hah, right,” Sukuna stands up now, yanking you off Choso like the big brute he is, you kick at him and he smirks, yanking your ankle. “Think ya can hurt me, brat?”
“You’re the biggest brat there is, Ryomen Sukuna!”
“Wow, my full name – really,” you stick your tongue out and Sukuna bars you with his arms on the couch, making your breath catch. Just because he’s a dick doesn’t mean he’s not hot and ruining you with his proximity. “Admit you’re trash at Mario cart and I’ll make you feel real good, won’t have to fuck yourself tonight with your dildo collection.”
“Invasion of privacy! No, I won’t admit I suck,” you smack at his arm and then climb right onto Choso’s lap, he sucks in a breath at the action.
“Oh… Oh! Oh,” he’s gripping your waist with those big hands, dragging your heat against that bulge underneath his pants as you move your hips, his eyes darkening. “Hi.”
You giggle a bit at that, moving again, feeling Sukuna tense behind you. “Hi.”
“Get off his damn lap,” Sukuna turns your face towards him, just to get Choso smacking his hand away this time. “I’ll beat both your asses.”
“No you won’t,” Choso murmurs, turning your face to him now, thumb brushing little circles on your hip, making you even wetter. “I’ll make you feel good without you having to say you ‘suck’ at Mario cart. You don’t suck.”
“I can suck,” you whisper, leaning forward and giggling, Choso moans when you kiss his lips, and everything in your living room shifts.
It’s a desperate kiss once Choso gets a taste of you, moaning into your mouth and working your body against him, sucking in a breath, eyes fluttering shut, sucking your tongue in his mouth and rutting up against you. You whine out at it, you could almost cum from just feeling him, one of his hands entangling in his hair.
“Are you really gonna leave me out?” Sukuna asks, flipping you before you can think, now your back is pressed on Choso’s hard chest, Sukuna is kneeling, his hands pressing against your tits. You’re ovulating so bad they’re full and aching, your nipples sensitive when he brushes his thumbs on them. “You’re needy, huh brat?”
“Not for you and your Mario cart cheating tactics, mnh!” He uses a hand to tug up your shirt, your tits spilling out, earning his moan.
“Don’t want my mouth on them?” You can’t say no, not when Choso’s biting your neck, his fingers slipping up your shorts, making your thighs tremble, back arching for more of Sukuna’s touch. “Answer.”
“I am still mad at you, but I’ll let you do that,” he smirks as if he’ll get to fuck you – little does Sukuna know you take Mario Kart very seriously, and you’re planning on making your giant, pink haired roomie pay. “Mnh!”
Sukuna presses you back against Choso, grabbing your tit and wrapping his lips around the little bud, sucking it into the hot recesses of his mouth, tongue ring clicking against it and earning a soft moan. You move against Choso who whines out in response, cock licking so much sticky pre it’s drizzling against your inner thigh, his finger running over your panties.
“Ngh,” soft moans escape your lips as Sukuna sucks one nipple, the other toyed with by his thumb and forefinger, Choso’s running up and down your slit until you’re dripping wet. “Choso…”
“Even now?” Sukuna scowls and you grin, earning a sharp bite on your tit, leaving glistening teeth marks, you gasp in shock and he grins. “Marked you.”
“Freak,” you grumble, but he’s sucking your other nipple, and your hand finds its way in his pink silky hair, it’s so soft, you tug hard and he grips your tit hard, sucking it in his mouth as Choso toys your clit. “F-fuck… mnh…”
“You’re soaked baby,” Choso whispers, tilting your face to his and kissing you, messy with your tongues dripping saliva. “Like that?”
“Y-yes, ow!” Sukuna bites the fuck out of you again, earning your attention, you yank the fuck out of his hair and make him moan.
“Where’s my attention!?”
“I’m still mad, I already told you,” Sukuna tugs your shorts to the side, seeing how soaking wet you are, panties drenched.
“Already fuck yourself today?”
“Maybe,” he smirks. “Why?”
“Nothing – just that’s my cock.”
“What!?” You shove him hard, he’s chuckling and Choso’s damn near about to bust with how you wiggle. “You did not seriously? Psycho!”
“Bet you loved it,” you did, fuck him. “Could you take it all?”
“No – I mean!? Yep, hah wasn’t that -”
Before you can finish your petty lie, Sukuna’s kissing you, messy and mean with it, tongue ring clicking the roof of your mouth, you’re rocking back and forth, dying for them inside you. If you weren’t such a petty girl, maybe you’d let Sukuna slide his cock inside your cunt, where Choso’s running circles against your slick entrance – but you’re still mad about Mario Kart.
And now he’s making his cock your dildo!?
“You’re batshit insane,” you’re still kissing him though, Choso’s got your clit twitching and Sukuna’s pinching your nipples and rolling them, the simultaneous play is too much to handle. “You c-can’t just… mnh, d-do that.”
“That’s not fair, I wanna make you one,” Choso pouts as he sinks two fingers in your messy, needy cunt, you’re soaking them and quivering, sucking them up so damn easy. “Do you want one of me?”
“I do, stop biting, you dick!” Sukuna’s furious – how dare you give him all the attention when Sukuna is right there, he slips his finger down and Choso pulls his out with a wet pop, sucking on them and moaning.
Fuck he’s hot.
You’re a little lost when you realize Sukuna’s shoving two fingers deep, scissoring them in and out of your hole. “Hah your cunt is already fucked out, you must love my dick stretching your messy cunt out.”
“You w-wish,” your thighs are held up by Choso for Sukuna’s mean fingers to rock in and out of your cunt with loud squelches, your nails press into Choso’s forearms when he grips your tit, squishing it in his hand and rutting that leaky cock right on you. “Close, close… Sukuna!?”
“You thought,” he yanks his fingers out, smirking at the obscene amount dripping, slipping them right in your mouth. “Suck.”
You bob your mouth up and down his knuckles, cheeks all flushed and your eyes dazed, Sukuna moans at the sight, picturing how well you’d suck his cock, as you slip your tongue between those digits. Choso’s already fingering you again, your cheeks hollowed, eyes rolling back.
“I’ll let you cum baby,” he murmurs, Sukuna scoffs – Choso was always trying to ‘please you’ and this was no different, you’re sucking Sukuna’s fingers as his hand grips under your chin, Choso’s fingers making a mess between your thighs as you clamp down. “Go ahead, cum for me.”
“Mmph!” You’re drooling as Sukuna’s fingers go deeper, damn near choking you with them, orgasm making you squirt all over Choso’s lap, drops smacking against Sukuna’s pants, he groans at the sigh.
“Messy lil slut, look at ya, can’t handle a couple fingers?”
“Fuck off, was cummin’ for Choso,” Choso grins, his fingers easing out of your cunt with a messy pop as she keeps spasming, gushing arousal down onto the couch you’re sitting on. “Cho, come on.”
“Come where baby?”
“My room,” you stand and push past Sukuna, whose cock is so hard you can see it pressing out, he winces and has to adjust it when you’re crooking your finger. “You can watch.”
“Watch!? The fuck?”
You drag Choso – dopey grin on his face and all – giggling as you rush him to your room. “Yep.”
“I’m not just gonna watch you…” You’re stripped down right in front of them in moments, and both the boys have open mouths.
Listen, you’ve been waiting to fuck them, and cucking Sukuna seemed apt enough punishment after the shit he was pulling today. Your tits bounce when you turn to Choso, slipping off his shirt and running your fingertips across his tattooed chest, he snatches you up and kisses you, surprising you by how needy he is, you thought he may be shy.
He’s so not shy when he eagerly steps out of his pants, and you see all that white dripping through his boxers. “I am not watching.”
“You sit right there,” you point to your bright pink gaming chair, a big ass flower cushion and a plushy on it, Sukuna’s red eyes narrow – for a moment he does scare you, but not when he throws your plushy and pillow on the ground. “Hey!”
“Fuck off,” he sits in the chair and it creaks under his heavy weight, crossing his arms now. “Well, put on your little show – you’ll beg me to join.”
“You think so?”
“I know it, want all your holes filled,” his eyes drift down the curves of your body, his cock aching so badly he unzips his pants, watching your fucked out little gaze. “Like what you see?”
Who wouldn’t like that thick, veiny cock with the pierced reddened tip? Drooling white as he strokes it in front of you. Your throat goes dry as you consider if you can give him such a punishment, but you smile all mean.
“Admit you cheat at Mario Kart.”
“I don’t you brat!?”
“Then no,” you press Choso down on the bed, he’s tugging his boxers off, his pretty cock smacking his belly button, pre just dripping against that black strip of hair over his cock. “Oh… You’re so ready, aren’t you Choso?”
“Please,” he’s tugging you on him, giving Sukuna a view of your ass, your cunt gliding along Choso’s cock and dripping all over. “Oh pretty…”
He’s got a piercing too, right on his pretty pink tip, you’re running your slit right along it, hands braced on his chest, Choso's mouth wraps around your nipple, sucking it hard into his mouth. You’re whining out when he plays with the other, holding them both in his hands as you move.
“Your titties are so pretty,” he whispers, one hand slipping down to your waist, god he’s dreamed of you but not like this – gliding your cunt right on him? He could lift you and slam his cock so deep, but he also wants to let you tease him, edge him till he can’t help himself. “F-fuck… you’re so wet…”
“Rub it in,” Sukuna earns your laugh, peeking over your shoulder and arching so he has a look of your hole from the back. “I’d fuck you right in your ass first.”
“You would not!”
“Sure would, Choso can have your cunt..”
“I’ll take any hole,” you giggle again, kissing your roomie, his lips plush underneath yours, your nails press into his shoulders as his tip bumps your needy clit. “Ah! Choso…”
“Do you l-like it baby?” You nod eagerly, he’s sucking your tits again, dragging you down hard, his cock leaking more pre – so much he worries he did cum, but it’s still thickening against you. “Wanna fill you up with all my cum. Eat it out of you.”
“Mnh,” you’re leaning up now, gliding faster, watching Choso lose it, bruising your waist, his cheeks dusted with pink.
“You really gonna do all this for MARIO KART!? You’re such a petty little annoying brat.”
You glare and turn around, reverse cowgirl right on Choso’s cock, he’s whimpering and Sukuna’s stroking his cock, his lips parted as he takes in your body facing him. “You’re petty! And annoying, you never give me privacy!”
“Neither does he!?” Sukuna stands, his cock so heavy it’s just hanging, dripping on the pink fluffy rug.
“You’re making a mess, Kuna, all over my rug.”
His jaw sets, Choso’s fingers are pressing harder as he drags you up and down, gasping out. “Like you didn’t squirt on me!?”
“Can I put it in please?” Choso’s completely ignoring your spat – how can he think when he’s so close to being able to slide his cock inside your cute, soaking wet hole?
“Y-yes,” you let him lift you and grab his cock, wrapping his hand around the base, tip slipping in your hole. “Mnh!”
“Oh my god,” he drags you down in one stroke – deep inside – so much your tummy bulges for Sukuna to see, he groans at the sight, Choso lifting you and that mess of slick glistening. “You’re so f-fucking wet, god you feel so good.”
Sukuna’s gripping your hair and bending down as you ride Choso’s cock, ass bouncing up and down, nails pressing into his thighs to keep balance, he lifts your ass up and groans, fingers dimpling the plump flesh of your ass. “Making a whole show, aren’t you?”
You take your hand and swipe your thumb over Sukuna’s tip, licking it off and watching him lose it, only to rock on Choso’s cock more, feeling him hit your cervix, making you gasp out desperately. “You’re so deep, mnh!”
“Swear to god,” Sukuna’s stroking his cock when Choso sits up and puts you on all fours, slapping his heavy cock against your ass, you moan and arch, face precariously close to Sukuna’s cock. “Come on, fuck… just lemme…”
“You can jerk off near me,” You gasp out, a broken little moan spilling from your lips as Choso slams right back in, heavy balls kissing your clit, your head falling back. “You’re lucky to even get that.”
“Fuckin’ brat,” Choso’s groaning as you grip him with your gummy walls just fluttering, he can’t even focus on anything but the curve of your ass like this, the way his tip is pressing your cervix, how full his balls are.
Your thighs tremble, hands gripping the blanket, looking back at him all pretty as he splits you open on his cock. “Ch-choso… f-feels so…”
You break off talking when he shoves in hard, pinning you to him and rolling those hips – god Choso could fuck, you didn’t think he couldn’t exactly but you sure didn’t expect that. He slams again harder, pushing your face until your mouth is almost brushing Sukuna’s needy tip, just that has the six foot five man whimpering.
“Fuck… slutty lil brat,” you’d scowl or stick your tongue out but Choso’s hitting it too good, stretching you right out to his shape with messy strokes. Your mouth is open with your gasps, every stroke of Sukuna’s hand on his cock making your tummy clench any more.
“Y-you’re gonna admit you cheat,” you whisper, sucking in a breath when Choso grabs your shoulder and fucks in so deep it hurts. “Ah!”
“Stop fighting,” he whines out when you pulse around him, leaning over you and gripping your chin, turning you to him. “Just cum, lemme feel it milk me.”
Oh fuck.
You kiss him and let him rail you, as Sukuna has to watch the girl he’s jerked off to fuck his roomate – all because he just had to make her mad. He wishes it wasn’t so sexy hearing the skin smacking and your messy cunt squishing with every thrust, already about to bust like a pathetic loser.
“I’m s-sorry, fuck,” he mumbles, you pull back and Choso chuckles, slamming against you again, pushing you to arch more. “All right!? Shit you’re mean.”
“You’re s-sorry, really? Mnh!” He moans and grips your hair, jerking right in front of your face as Choso snaps his hips hard.
“Perfect cunt just gripping me, god jus’ like th-that,” he’s pussy drunk off you, he can’t help but be happy he’s inside and not in your bright pink cuck chair, or jerking it like Sukuna.
Not that he wouldn’t enjoy that too, but he’s been fisting his cock to you since the first day you met.
“M’gonna cum,” you whisper now, looking up at Sukuna and moaning, breath tickling the tip of his cock. “You’re sorry?”
“Yes, god just… can I just… cum on your tongue, fuck – I’ll let you win, n-next time just…”
You suppose you’ll take a little pity on him, opening your mouth with your little pink tongue out, letting Sukuna jerk it even closer, strings of puffy cum splattering all over your tongue, your mouth, your chin. It’s fucking filthy having it all over you as your orgasm hits, making you swallow all him up.
“Want me to cum inside your pretty lil hole?” Choso asks, you’re still swallowing Sukuna’s cum when he brushes it on your lips, stroking it so even more oozes from that little slit and decorates your lips.
You nod and arch, your nails now pressing into Sukuna’s thighs, Choso busting deep inside your cunt and all he can get is his tip grazing your damn tongue, he’s so desperate he’s happy for that. He’s groaning as he watches you get filled by Choso’s cum, your fucked out face and your crossed eyes.
“Wanna be inside next,” he mumbles, pulling back and groaning, your nails pressing into the tattoos on his muscled thighs as you tremble.
You’re flooded with Choso’s warmth, coating all your walls as he pulses, thickening even more, tip dragging on your spot over and over, making you both sensitive. “Took all that, so greedy.”
“Mhm,” you whisper, licking Sukuna’s cum off his thumb when he gathers it from your cheek, off your chin, slipping it in your mouth. “You came so much, Choso…”
“What about me you brat!?”
You grin and give him the tiniest kitten flick of your tongue on his tip, watching him jerk from just that. “I’ll maybe forgive you.”
“Maybe? Tch,” Choso pulls out of you with a messy pop, watching all his cum flood out of your hole, pushing it right out and dripping on your blankets.
“Look at all you took,” he plays with the sticky mess, fingering it right back inside and smirking at Sukuna. “I think she likes me more.”
“She does not, she’s just sadistic,” he’d be lying if he didn’t say that turned him on more. He helps you up on your knees, tilting your chin up and kissing his own cum off you, Choso’s kissing up your neck, as you feel him slipping out of you. “Evil little brat. You liked that dildo.”
“Maybe I’ll let you use it on me,” his brows lower as he glares again, Choso snorts against your neck, tugging you closer.
“Use my own dick on you!?”
“Then you can fuck me. If you’re nice.” You turn and straddle Choso again, kissing his mouth, he flicks his tongue and gathers the little bit of Sukuna’s cum off your mouth, moaning.
“Can I at least finger you, or am I still in trouble?” Sukuna pouts kind of cutely, you admit, so you nod, and let him kneel on the bed, fingering Choso’s cum back inside you.
Sukuna won’t knock you off rainbow road again.
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