a list of all my works! for now, it’s all KiriBaku lmao.
am i taking requests?: as of now, no😔 i barely write my own drafts, i dont think asking for ideas and then just not writing them is fair. hopefully, that can change soon! (dont quote me on this)
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KiriBaku x reader oneshots
storm clouds
nom
high!KiriBaku x gn!reader
animal crossing
look! it’s you!
Cramping
sick day :(
breakfast
nightmares
Spending the day together
post-fight interview
Kiribaku x gn!reader head canons: pt I & pt II
Fantasy!KiriBaku x reader
In every universe
MY headcanons of Yuzuya’s Kiribaku fantasy series
The Yellow Blanket: pt I
purely Katsuki Bakugo x reader
relaxing together
fantasy!Bakugo- I will always save you: pt I & pt II
quick bkg thoughts is his resting bitch face when he’s sitting next to you in public while you both wait for his friends to appear.
he is impatient, waiting outside beside you but he looks mad. speech marks between his furrowed eyebrows. lips twisted mid snarl and his nose scrunched. his face does it unconsciously, on level one hundred all the time. he’s barely even annoyed since he has you to keep him company.
he hunches forward in his chair under the umbrella shade. elbows on his knees, phone in hand incase any messages come through. he’s got his bag slung across his body and he’s dressed in an outfit you chose.
you can tell he’s thinking about something work related, his mind often goes there without meaning to.
so you do what he always does to you, grabbing his chin so that grumpy face looks at you.
“what?” he blurts, not rude but curious.
his pupils are quick, skimming over your face, trying to judge your expression before you can tell him. he likes what you’re wearing today and you smell lovely.
“you look angry. relax your face.”
it’s something you tell him often and in turn, it makes him think about it often. he doesn’t want you to think he looks unattractive. god forbid.
but you punctuate your comment by providing an easy solution, kissing his lips in public and immediately everything goes doiwn.
the snarl, the frown, his nose.
you’re both not one for public displays of affection, but whenever you want it he welcomes it.
as you’re pulling away, he gives you another peck, like you’re playing a game and now it’s equal score. you let go of his chin so he can roughly (and quite dramatically) rub his face as if it’s an error he needs to erase.
“didn’t even realise i was doin’ it. fuck. sorry.”
you pout at the apology. he’s adorable when he doesn’t mean to be.
“i do love the face, don’t get me wrong. you just look like my guard dog and that’s not the vibe i’m going for today,” you laugh to yourself.
bakugou gives you his full attention as you lean back in your chair. he twirls his phone in one hand between his thumb and pointer finger.
“what’s the vibe you’re goin’ for?” the word vibe isn’t really in bakugou’s vocabulary.
“my gorgeous boyfriend beside me in his cute little outfit.”
bakugou raises his eyebrows. he likes that. he likes when you compliment him, claim him, put words in sentences he’s never heard anyone use for him before. he exhales deeply out his nose.
“i can do that,” he sits up, fixes his posture and even drags your chair closer to his. “we’re matchin’ too.”
his khaki button down shirt matches your khaki bra straps under your white cami top.
“i know! it’s like you only realise if you’re paying attention!”
many people walking by have. you and bakugou aren’t a couple people ignore.
"Get that scowl off your face or don't look at me like you have something to say."
Bakugo rolled his eyes, "I don't have anything to say."
"Yeah, you've made that abundantly clear."
kiribaku x gn!reader
cw: screaming match argument, swearing, more focus on bakugo
wc: 2.3k
You crossed your arms in front of your chest and your legs as you scooted yourself closer to the end of the couch. If someone looked close enough, they could convince themself that you were trying to become one with the couch's arm rest. Just as long as you stayed on your end and kept eye contact with nothing but the movie on the tv.
Bakugo grunted as he turned his head away, resting his head on his perched up arm. But not even two lines of dialogue from the movie later, and you can feel the pair of scarlet eyes from across the couch glaring your side profile. You take a looooong deep breathe, afraid you might say something you can't take back if you return the stare.
The front door opened followed by heavy footsteps that travelled through the house. "Hey, I'm home! And I got the take out! They didn't have the crepe cakes so I just got the mochi. Just saying, I call dibs on the strawb- uh. Um... hello?"
After taking off his shoes and setting every thing down, Eijirou turned around to the sight of the living room. You and Bakugo on opposite ends of the couch, cross-armed and pouty, while just blankly staring at the tv screen. You turned to Ei and gave him maybe the fakest im-so-not-pissed-right-now smile, and in your fakest i-so-dont-wanna-kill-our-boyfriend-right-now voice, "Hi babe. How was the gym?"
Eijirou stood frozen, like prey spotting its predator. He knows something's wrong. The tension in the air told him something was wrong. Because you guys were on the couch... and not... cuddling?? Usually Bakugo either has an arm around you or your legs are laid over his lap. It's become almost instinctual to sit shoulder to shoulder at least! But now you sit like two magnets with the same polar sides facing each other. Like damn, you two were so grumpy neither of you even got up from the couch to greet Eijirou himself. You guys are real mad at each other. Mad to the point where anything louder than silence might trigger an alarm.
"What happened?" Eijirou asked with an inflection that makes you think he's walking through a mine field. You slowly turned your head towards Bakugo, who still watched the screen like he's interested on what's going on. You took another deep breath and turned back towards Eijirou.
"Bakugo would rather die than tell me how he truly feels."
That earned a click of the tongue and another roll of the eyes that land on you. "You're so fuckin' dramatic."
You shrugged, almost laughing to yourself, "Well, what is it then? How would you describe this situation? Please feel free to be as dishonest as you can be, you know, for the sake of Eijirou's feelings." You gave your most patronizing smile.
"I don't have to, Ei knows how to take criticism. He won't get immediately offended the second I try to give feedback."
You turned in your seat to face Bakugo fully. Eijirou moved to sit on the coffee table between both of you.
"Hey guys, let's just take a second-"
"Last time I checked, feedback shouldn't really come with a side of insults. But even then, I would rather that than finding out you sugar coat your opinions! It makes me think you don't even care of what I'm asking you!"
"Guys, let's just eat first-"
"What if I don't? Ever think of that?"
You stared at him. You were over it. You looked over to Eijirou. "I had a meeting this morning. With a bunch of board members from the agency. I had asked Bakugo earlier for notes on what to fix in my pitch. He gave me none. I present and all of the members... laughed. And believe me, I got their feedback." You scoffed, holding back the tears of reliving the humiliation.
"I come home, I whine about the members, the meeting, start listing the feedback and this one over here has the audacity to go 'well I could have told you that'."
Eijirou looked over to Bakugo for his response.
"You wouldn't have taken it well."
"You know I still would prefer the truth! Let me decide the level of critcism I can take!"
"Guys."
"You would've just gotten upset."
"Oh my god, did you blow out your hearing again?"
Bakugo's face twisted in disgust.
"Alright that's enough. Seperate for a while-What the fuck did you just say to me?"
"Just take a breath You're not helping your case."
"You want me See how it feels to be honest? to know that your feelings dont matter? Youre a hypocrite who That one of the two people youre supposed to trust talks about honesty and boundaries to be honest with you but the second something doesn’t go your way wouldnt care that you were you blow it out of proportion HUMILIATED BY THE WHOLE COMPANY and use the OTHER PERSON’S INSECURITIES ALL BECAUSE YOU DONT KNOW HOW TO BE RESPECTFUL AGAINST THEM! YOU ARE NOT A BETTER PERSON THEN ME WITH THAT HONESTY BECAUSE YOU DONT KNOW HOW TO GROW THICKER SKIN ASSHOLE! SHUT UP!"
Immediate silence. "SHUT THE FUCK UP! BOTH OF YOU!"
Silence that was almost way too quick.
You and Bakugo stared at each other, still holding the scowls on your faces, both too proud and stubborn to look away first. But it was as if you were shaken out of a trance. Bakugo was breathing heavy, eyes as shiny as glass. You hadn't realized you had already been crying.
"You," Eijirou started, pointing at you, "go to the bedroom. You," turning to Bakugo, "go to the patio. And I don't wanna hear it from either of you. Go."
Like cadets to a commander, you followed orders.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You know you shouldn't have said it.
Bakugo was sensitive about his hearing, especially considering that its a direct concequence to his quirk. You know this. And hes right, you bringing it up was hypocritical and disrespectful, the same way you were upset about him for disrespecting you and your want for honesty.
You lay on your bed, huddled in a throw blanket and cuddling with a pillow. You recount the argument again. And again. And again. And you're crying again. Out of anger, guilt, frustration. All of the emotions swimming in your head, chasing each other but also not wanting to be caught. You want to forgive him, but not so easily; he had to own up for what he did. You want to stand true to defending yourself but also kick yourself down for hurting Katsuki.
Katsuki.
You steady your breathing and wipe your tears. You know him, just like he knows you. You're both too stubborn to want to apologize first. But someone has to be the bigger man and if putting your pride aside gets you a stronger, healthier relationship and in your boyfriend's arms again, then that's all you need to push the blanket off, step out of bed, and head downstairs.
Eijirou sat on the couch, still in his gym clothes, munching on his takeout box with his eyes glued to the action movie he put on. You wanted to walk up to him and try to rub the crease between his eyebrows, but deep down you know you're part of the reason why it's there. You walk by, stopping aside the seating area to see what he was watching. Eijirou immediately changed his stare to you, lowering his plate.
You look at him and awkwardness overcomes you. "The food good?" Ei nods, with a tinge of that same awkwardness, "Yeah. I put the other boxes in fridge." You nod in acknowledgement. The movie continues to play on the Tv. "Is he... still out there?" You ask, nodding towards the sliding door that leads to the patio. Eijirou hums a nod and goes to take another bite of his food, but his eyes dont leave you. Not until you walk past him and head outside.
Katsuki sits on one of the chairs outside, deep in thought as he picks at his lips. He only stops when he hears the door open and close, and sees you pull up a chair next to him. You sit in silence, staring ahead at the view off the hill the house rested on, for a minute or two thinking about how to start this conversation.
"I'm surprised there isn't a cloud in the sky today. It rained for so long last week I thought we weren't going to see the sun again."
Silence was given back. For a minute actually. Until,
"Storm clouds go away eventually."
You turn your head to Katsuki. He's gotten back to picking at his lip.
"Katuski-"
"Let me go first."
You were taken aback. But you slowly nodded and let him speak first.
Katsuki took a deep breath. Then, almost frustratingly, he turned his chair to face you. You slightly turn in your seat. Another deep breath.
"I'm sorry. I know you prefer the truth over having your feelings spared. I'm the same fuckin' way. But you always get so upset when I even give you the tiniest detail of feedback. Even if it doesn't have you pissed at me, you always grow a pout or some shit like that. And I realize, now at least, that you're right. I always say it with an insulting nickname or a backhanded comment. Not 'cause I mean them, it's how I talk. You know this. So, I will... work on it. Try thinking about what I say before I say it. Only when you ask for feedback though. I still get to call you a loser when I beat you at mario kart."
He taps his foot against your leg with a tiny kick and it makes you chuckle. You tap him back and stare into his eyes for a beat before asking with a slight hesitation, "What did you think of my presentation?"
He thinks about it for a second. For a couple seconds actually, before, "Some of your points were either too repeatative or they straight up didn't make any sense. At least not to me. If you could've expanded on- I think it was either your third or fourth slide- and the financials of it, it would've been better. But even if you had the right info, it didn't give those losers the right to make fun of you. And I'm sorry I let you get in front of that meeting with your pants down."
You nodded, trying not to show the cringe you felt in your chest, "It's ok. And I appreciate the honesty."
"I'm sorry I used an insecurity of yours against you. It was totally immature and definitely me trying to project my hurt feelings. I will learn how to take feedback even if it's not in my favor, and learn how to cope with it when it isn't."
Katsuki reaches for your hand, and you slip your hand into his palm. "Well, you're doing great so far."
You give another chuckle. "Thanks. Oh! When's your next doctor's appointment?"
"In two weeks."
"You want a ride?"
"Nah, I'll take the train. I have a morning patrol that day so I'm just going after that."
You nod and sit in the silence, your hands still intertwined.
"Also sorry I called you an asshole."
At that, Katuski chuckles, "In your defense, I also called you an asshole."
"Yeah but I deserved it."
He rubs the back your hand wiht his thumb, "So did I."
You look at him, then sit up and slump. And with a pout, "I love you."
Kats cracks a smile and pulls your chair closer, "I love you too dummy."
From his seat, he pulls you in for a hug, nesting his head in the crook of your neck. You wrapped your arms around him and settle in for this hug.
After a couple minutes, Katsuki kisses your cheek, and then kisses it again, then starts giving you a bunch of tiny kisses from your face to your neck and you can't help but giggle and laugh at him.
He pulls away to look at you laugh and a calm smile rests on his face.
"You know we also have to apologize to Ei, right?"
"Yeah I know." Kats sighs, and then lets go of you and stands, "Come on, let's go."
You walk inside to Eijirou, still on the couch and watching the movie, his takeout box now empty on the coffee table. You plop yourself next to your red headed boyfriend, with your blonde walking to sit on the other side of him. "Hi Eijirou. How was the gym today?"
Eijirou takes a breath before looking over at you, uncrossing his arms to wrap behind both you and Katsuki. "Gym was good! It was a little more crowded than I expected but I was still able to use the machines and equipment I wanted."
"What split did you work on today?" Katsuki asked, paralleling you by sitting to face Eijirou.
"Just upper body." He responded, looking at his boyfriend. "I was going to do more abs and core, but I ended up working on my back more."
"Mhm. Oh! and thanks for picking up takeout on the way home." You comment, placing a hand on the red's chest.
"And for mediating... us." Katsuki added, a dust of pink embarassment spreading across his cheeks. You admit, you felt your face getting a little warmer as well.
Eijirou chuckled, "You guys know you're more alike than you think, right?" That earned a laugh out of all of you.
"Yeah... but still. Sorry we had to put you in that position at all." You leaned to give him a kiss on the cheek.
"It's ok. You know I love you guys too much to let you guys kill each other. I'm just surprised you guys talked about it so quickly after you seperated."
You looked at Katsuki, and he longingly returns the gaze.
"I guess the storm cloud just went away."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
a/n: we're so back. got lots of drafts lined up so i'll be working on those. lmk if im missing anything in the content warning!! i don’t usually write anything that isn’t fluff and happiness and sunshine. also, im putting this out there to hold myself accountable and not procrastinate, yellow blanket part 2 by the end of this week 😛😛
personally I'm annoyed by the socioeconomic conditions that made words like "unalive" necessary but simultaneously impressed by the linguistic adaptations young people have made to continue talking about important things while subject to those conditions and I think if you can't hold both of those thoughts in your head you might just be old man yelling at cloud
you freeze, curled lips placed on katsuki jawline as you were previously “nomming” on him. you couldn’t help it! he was busy looking at his phone, arm around you as you two cuddled on the couch, and this scene of your crime tv show was slow and boring, so god forbid you decided to nibble on your boyfriend’s perfect jawline! though, that doesn’t mean that getting called out wasn’t a little embarrassing.
you place a quick peck on that same spot and turn your head back to the tv as you respond with a little, “nothing” , a smirk attempting to rest on your face.
katsuki stares at you for a moment, before throwing a “weirdo” into the room and goes back to his phone.
now, your other boyfriend eijirou caught that interaction from the lounge chair he was sitting on. so he got up and switched seats to katsuki’s other side on the couch. luckily, katsuki had now turned his attention to the show, so his other arm was used to wrap around his boyfriend. eijirou took this as a way to get more comfortable, resting his head on kats’ shoulder.
you and eijirou locked eyes, which helped with the bluetooth connection of partner telepathy, and when another seemingly unimportant scene came up, you curled your lips and-
“nom nom nom nom nom nom nom nom“
katsuki's eyes roll as he grunts, letting his jaw get mauled.
a/n: a little snack while i cook dinner (writing and editing multiple drafts at the same time hehehehehehe)
just saw a pigeon doing the puffed up courtship dance thing to another pigeon, and as he was strutting around he suddenly stopped for a split second to do a very brief preen-peck at his own side, then returned to the strutting around. and i surprised myself by instantly losing respect for the male pigeon in that moment, like come on man i appreciate you had an itch or whatever but how is she supposed to feel special when you're getting distracted by bullshit like that? which on reflection i don't endorse, i mean those are pretty harsh dating norms i'm imposing on these pigeons, from a total outsider perspective, for no reason. probably not all girl pigeons are as uptight about that sort of thing as i would apparently be if i was a girl pigeon, maybe she even found it endearing who knows, i don't know her. it's none of my business really. sorry pigeons.
the thing about writing denki aus is that i can make him as pathetic as i want in the name of characterisation, for example:
“WET DREAMZ”
a mha college au WITH DENKI K. feat. HANTA S.
“got me daydreamin’, man, what?”
wc: 6.7k
this is for @rumisgf very late birthday gift
mdni....
↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺
starting track….
denki fucked up.
he fucked up baaaaaaad.
and the thing is, he could've saved this, he could've saved himself a whole lot of trouble, a whole lot of sexual tension, a whole lot of bisexual confusion, and a whole lot of horny delusions.
his first mistake was letting sero meet you.
because, you're denki's high school best friend.
best friend, like, best fucking friend. best friend like you made denki what he is today.
he took his first shot with you, smoked his first joint with you, bought his first vape with your fake id.
every morning, he'd meet you at the bus stop, share those cheap ass, shitty ass, earphones of his, with your playlist saved onto his phone, only half of it downloaded with the 200MB he had left, using your phone to check the homework updates that neither of you completed.
and then you'd get the homework answers off some random, and spend registration scribbling out absolute bullshit, because even if it's incorrect and illegible at least it was done, and you wouldn't be given detention.
because you guys couldn't get detention, not when you had rustled up twenty dollars between you, to buy cheap weed off some sketchy guy, and smoke in the park next to his house.
late nights on face-time during family holidays, dinner at his house almost three times a week, helping your dad fix something that was broken in the backyard.
your lives were so intertwined, that when you made-out for the first time, it didn't feel like a big deal.
because, of course your first kiss would be with denki, of course the first guy to see you naked would be denki, of course the first guy to dry hump you on some random girl’s couch, would be denki.
so natural, so not-a-big-deal, so normal.
and then he left for college.
you knew it would happen at some point, that he would leave, that he would get tired of having to hide himself, quiet himself, tone himself down, in your small conservative little town, fucking duh. right?
and he told you he was going to leave, you were there when he applied for the university. and you were there, right fucking next to him, jumping for joy, when he got accepted.
doesn't mean it didn't hurt.
doesn't mean you didn't feel it in your chest.
despite the fact that you were doing your own thing, living your own life, becoming your own person.
it doesn't mean that every time you get a notification from him, an update about his new friend group, or something dumb that happened on a night out, or he comes back for a weekend, and he has a new piercing or tattoo or a different hairstyle, that you don't miss him so fucking much.
that doesn't mean that he doesn't miss you too.
every time he makes a joke that doesn't land, or references a meme from five years ago, or wants to go to a gig, or talk bullshit, or get high and go grocery shopping, he sighs to himself.
because no one really gets him like you do. no one sees him like you do.
you’re his person, his everything.
he had to invite you to come and see the city eventually, it took a while for your schedules to align for sure, but you got there in the end.
got here.
and denki's late.
you're late too if we're being honest. you missed the transfer, and had to wait for 45 minutes for the next train, enough time to leave the station for a smoke, fall asleep on the train, and nearly miss your stop.
but you're here now.
outside this big, loud, city station, suddenly feeling conscious of how you must definitely reek of weed, tapping your foot on the cracked concrete, lent up against the metal railing, idly scrolling on your phone.
travel bag full, headphones on, you don't even realise someone is calling your name till—
“—holy shit dude, are you that fucking deaf?” a sun-kissed hand waving in front of your face, “haven’t changed a bit—”
he cuts himself off to borderline tackle you into a hug, you nearly drop your phone, his warm body heat enveloping your system. arms wrapped tightly around your waist, he still smells the same, so do you.
you barely notice how he takes a deep inhale when he noses at the junction of your neck.
it’s so fucking weird to have you here, but in the best way. it feels like a dream, you feel like a dream, all disgruntled and weary from the journey.
“you gonna take her bag or what?”
oh right.
denki’s head stays where it is, nestled into your shoulder. the only move he makes is to stick a finger up from behind his back, but your gaze snaps up, meeting with the owner of the voice.
dark eyes meet yours, half-lidded, grin creeping onto his face, cigarette hanging out of his mouth, a few paces back from where you’re embracing the blonde.
“hey—”
“oh, fuck off, man,” denki still hasn’t let go, you feel his voice rumble through your skin, “don’t even talk t’er.”
“relax,” you say grabbing the back of his hair and pulling him off you, he lets out a small whimper, minuscule really, but you know him, yank a bit harder, voice dropping to a whisper, “don’t you dare.”
but denki doesn’t budge, he hums almost dreamily, “don’t talk to me like that, y’know it’s been a while.” with his arms squeezing you tighter, practically melting into your chest.
“free show for the general public, i knew you were freaked out but seriously dude—”
that does the job, denki finally unwinds his limbs from you to turn and scoff at his friend, talking about some, “you can’t let me have a moment,” and then turns back without waiting for answer, grabbing your travel bag and slinging it over his shoulder.
“not if i’m uninvolved,” the other guy scoffs out, hands in his back pockets, and he smirks down at the blonde who’s marched over to give him a light shove in the chest.
denki snatches the lit cigarette from his friend’s mouth, with a mocking sneer, and pops it into his own.
“‘uninvolved’ that’s not even a real word,” the words curl around the smoke as he waves you over.
“maybe you should read a fuckin’ book.”
“maybe you should shut your fuckin’ mouth,” he clears his throat, then dramatically flourishes to the guy standing next to him, whom you vaguely recognise. from blurry snaps, from instagram stories, from half of his figure in face-times, the one, the only, “hanta sero.”
he smirks at the introduction, something you reckon he does a lot of, and nods at you in greeting, “i’m surprised you’re a real person, i was almost sure this shit-head was making you up.”
your smile is strained because of the sunlight glaring right in your eye line, but your tone is warm, if not a little dry, when you reply with, “talks ‘bout me a lot, does he?”
“you don’t know the half of it—” denki shoves him forward, and sero laughs, bright and loud, let’s the momentum carry him into a step, which turns into another, and another, and then denki takes your hand to pull you along with them, as you make your way down the street, away from the station’s exit, back to their place.
↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺
“finally.”
denki huffs as he flops onto his bed with a groan, it creaks and shifts when you drop down next to him, his legs intertwining with yours like second nature.
and denki’s smelling you again. it’s less weird than it sounds, but still weird. it’s not his fault, you smell like sunshine and home, how could he not, nose buried into the top of your head, arms curled around your body.
you both lay like that for a minute, content in the silence, just basking in each other’s presence. electricity buzzing under your fingertips as he softly grazes his knuckles against your back.
until you decide to be a little bitch.
“your friend’s cute,” you murmur into his chest, you can feel denki’s heart pitter-pattering, vibrating through your body.
he doesn’t say anything for a beat.
you crack open an eye, try again, “i said, your friend is hot—”
he doesn’t give you the reaction you’d hoped for, which is a shame. instead he chuckles, snickers, softly against your hair, still tracing patterns into your skin, “you really gonna talk about another guy while you’re in my bed, no class.”
“take that back asshole,” and he catches your hand when you move to hit him, brings a thumb down to curl around your wrist, rolls his eyes as you squint up at him, “no class?” you repeat, “i’m so classy, so fuckin’ classy i brought my own bud—”
yeaaahhh, that wakes him up.
and because it's denki, because he has no manners, or boundaries, or concept of personal space, both his hands start sliding down your body until they feel the bulge in one of your back pockets.
you squirm out of his grip, feebly kicking at his legs, but he's so solid. you can feel his muffled snickers as you smack his arms away from you, but he barely moves, just presses you further into the mess of pillows and blankets that cover his bedspread.
“you're such an asshole,” but your shoulders shake with the uncontrollable laughter that tumbles out of your body when he starts trying to curl his fingers into the pocket.
you get a face full of armpit. “and you smell so fuckin’ bad, couldn't even take a shower before inviting me over here—”
he kisses his teeth at your insult, but doesn't flinch when your heel catches his shin, just lightly slaps your thigh to get you to chill the fuck out, because his bed-frame is cheap and creaking like it might collapse any second.
"dude," as he sits back on his knees and sticks out his tongue in victory, shiny foil package dangling between his fingertips, "the water pressure here sucks balls, i promise you, i tried my best."
you kick at him again when he starts to open it, and the baggy drops from his grip. you snatch it up before he gets a moment to breathe, and point a finger at him in warning, “nah-ah-ah. say please.”
he collapses on top of you again, bullshit doe-eyed expression, and juts out his bottom lip as he simpers, “oh please, my perfect princess,” you don't budge, “oh, please, dear goddess, let us roll a zoot.”
“well, seeing as you’ve always been a loyal subject.”
“you’re such a fucking dork.”
“me? me? i’m a dork?" you repeat back to him, voice wavering in astonishment, “the first thing you did when you moved in here was put up that zelda poster,” and you gesture to the aforementioned poster, corners peeling, plastered onto his wall next to the window, “and you wanna talk about dorks.”
“well if i'm a dork and you’re a dork,” he says, and with his face so close to your own, you can practically count the freckles matted across his cheeks. and that annoying little smile, so unchanging despite the time you've spent apart, despite the distance. "what does that make us?”
he answers for you, not before his eyes flick down to your lips as his tongue pokes out to wet his, “it makes us perfectly compatible.”
your eyes roll and you shove his face back with the palm of your hand, “you're a fucking loser.”
his hands crawling over your thighs, “yeah, what else?”
“a freak.”
his eyes boring into your soul, “keep going.”
“pathetic.”
his breath ghosting over your ear, “nearly there."
“and,” your hand suddenly stretches out, and denki keens when you take a fistful of his hair into your grasp, his body folds inwards towards you as you pull him closer, gently grazing your teeth across his earlobe while he shudders and you murmur, “i don’t fuck with blondes.”
unserious to a fault, denki breaks down into snickers, nuzzling his nose against your neck. it would’ve been believable, if not for the fact that, “y’know i can feel your lil’ boner pressing against my stomach.”
that makes him chuckle even harder into your neck. “guilty,” sarcastically muttered, and then denki cranes his head so he’s at the perfect angle to lick your cheek.
you groan in disgust and push his face away, but that doesn’t stop him, and you get his slobber all over your palms.
“get the fuck off me, i swear to—” he covers your mouth with his palm and continues to lick your face like a demented cat, what the fuck? “is this what the city life does to people?”
“no,” he whines suddenly, interlocking his fingers with yours against either side of your head, “i-i just missed you.”
oh.
you didn’t expect him to say it outright.
there’s been an annoying, awful, nagging, voice that has been whispering in the depths of your brain ever since he left. whispering that he stopped caring about you, that you were just a placeholder until he got cooler, funnier, friends, that you were nothing but an insignificant speck in the long, vibrant, life he was going to live.
denki’s warm, honey, eyes scan your face.
he’s frowning, and, well, denki should never be frowning.
you shake his hand off one of your wrists and he sits back immediately. no longer breaching your personal space, a brief look of hurt flashing through his eyes as you say nothing.
but then, your free hand reaches up, and your thumb, very carefully, very gently, smooths out the wrinkle that has appeared between his brows.
“i missed you too.”
the corners of his mouth uplift, his eyes shine, god, it's like the sunlight breaking through the dawn, the way denki's face contorts into a smile, “you really know how to make a guy sweat, baby.”
you snort, “oh, you're sweating now?”
“amongst other things, yeah.”
"amongst?" you repeat, eyes squinting in the way they do when you're about to take this piss, “is that a new vocab word?”
you’re trying to ragebait, but it doesn’t work.
because denki can't stop smiling.
there's just something so fucking dreamy about how you're here, in his college house, on his horrible twin xl bed. it's really hard to describe the feeling, because, sure, he's seen you, during holidays, on face-time and the like, but it's different having you in the city with him.
with him.
as in, not only did you trek all the way here, three fuckin' buses, two trains, all your essentials packed, with the sole intention of spending time with him.
but you missed him too?
that notion, that suggestion, that you thought about him nearly a fraction as much as he thought about you.
it makes him dizzy.
"you really like being mean to me, don'tcha?" and he can't keep his hands off of you, his fingers tracing patterns along your sides.
"i think you like it more than i do."
"you can't prove that."
that makes you laugh, genuinely, because, it's like, do you mention the hard-on that is throbbing against your thigh, again, or do you let him live in his delusion? questions, questions.
or…
the secret third option.
bringing your hand down, and cupping his erection through the material that covers his bottom half. using your nails to scratch at the seam that is straining with his hard cock, and watching his breath hitch, his brow furrow, his eyelids flutter.
"you're playing dirty," denki whines, as if that could hide the guttural moan that literally comes from the depths of his spirit.
you lean up towards him so you can mouth at patch of skin where his ear meets his neck, and you murmur into his ear, "i think you like it when i play dirty."
“well, i think,” as he traces your pulse points with his nose, “that you only have one voice line option," and then with his teeth, like the most least obvious vampire, "where's the variety?"
"don't be a dick."
"thought you liked my dick."
"i like your mouth more."
"oh yeah," he turns his head, kisses along your jawline, softly, like you’re something delicate, something he has to hold very carefully, something that he couldn't afford to break, something he wants to take his time with.
it makes your heart race, being loved on like that, you needed it to be honest. someone that knows you intimately, someone that knows exactly what you want.
you shrug his hand off you, from where one of his palms still had a firm grip on your wrist, so you can grab his chin, bring his face closer to yours, your breath intermingling.
and the next time he opens his mouth to make a smart comment, you stop him before he can even start.
by grasping his tongue with two of your fingers.
you know him as much as he knows you.
and you absolutely could not miss the shudder that wracks his body, or the way his eyes practically roll back into his head.
you have to tut at him until he stops trying to wrap the pink textured tip of his tongue around your digits.
so you have the space, to spit in his mouth.
oh wow.
there are not enough words to describe the pathetic mess denki makes out of himself at that moment.
i won't bother attempting to walk you through it.
but sero can.
denki's bedroom door slams open, hanta sero, giving no prelude before making his entrance, "are we still gonna go out tonighhh…"
now imagine this, your best friend, practically on his knees, on top his best friend, literally eating out of the palm of her hand, with both of his hands underneath her shirt.
sero grins.
and carelessly swats away the pillow that comes flying at his face.
the three of you just kinda blink at each other for a minute.
before sero turns on his heel and walks right back out.
↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺
“this is the best spot in the entirety of the old town, i'm telling you.”
“you said the same thing about the bar by the river—”
“—and about that arcade on the high-street.”
“anddddd, when we found the spot along the bridge with the benches.”
"that, that, that, that,” denki slurs, well stutters, a step behind you, “that doesn't diminish my point.”
you can’t see him but you hear the sound of him smacking sero when he mocks the blonde with a, “uh-ba-ba-ba-ba-da-ba-dah."
"shut up, just shusshh,” oh god, he really is licked, you can’t take him seriously, “i'm trying to show my beloved friend–in fact, you guys are even proving my point.”
"and what is your point exactly."
"well... that old town has all the best spots."
they all hum in agreement.
all being, the rest of denki's new friend group.
honestly, they're a cool bunch.
the girls are fucking lovely, stunning, nice as hell, like surprisingly. not that you thought his friends would be dickheads, but still, it's refreshing to be around.
almost as refreshing as the cool night air.
the sunset a while ago, while you were still pre-gaming at this one girl's flat, mina. she's a fucking legend. super hospitable, one of those people who never let's anyone sit out of conversation, a little prying but not enough to make you uncomfortable.
but she mixes drinks like a demon.
sero had warned you.
after denki had, ahem, had a shower and cleaned himself up, the three of you made your way over to mina's together.
but, denki was on the phone the whole time. one of the guys was having a crisis and apparently, it was very, super, extremely, important, so he had left sero to entertain you on the twenty minute walk over.
this sero guy is something else.
there's something very telling about the way he talks, like he's constantly trying to sus you out, but in the least discrete way he can. his questions are really leading, and it doesn't matter how you answer, it feels like you've fallen into a trap.
it doesn't help that he's fucking sexy.
with the piercings, the way his hair falls into his face, and that ridiculous sleeve of line-drawn patchwork tattoos, that denki seems intent on copying.
but his smile gets you the most.
this annoying, slick, grin that he gets when you say something a bit too sarcastic, or a bit too rude, or a bit too risky, and he visibly bites his tongue while he cheeses, flashing his pearly whites, all half-lidded eyes and barely concealed snickers.
fuck denki for leaving you to your own devices.
you'd been walking side by side with the dude, bare arms brushing, up until you got to the front steps of mina's flat, and even then, denki had disappeared almost instantly, leaving you with this guy, again.
and sero had not left you alone, maybe denki had told him to keep an eye on you or something, but you can't deny it, the attention was addicting. fetching you drinks when you asked, lighting your blunt for you, letting you smoke his cigs with nothing but a shake of his head and another one of those confusing, biting, grins.
aside from that, the rest of denki's friends had been great.
aside from the drinks.
sero, and the other girl, jirou, had fuckin’ warned you, that mina enjoys playing bartender, and that she takes her job very seriously. you had waved them off at the time, because honestly, two blunts deep, the glass you had tasted like fuckin' juice. really sweet, really orange, and apparently chock full of tequila.
which leads us to now, a large gaggle of about seven undergrads, arguing, then bursting into cackles, then tripping over their own feet, then arguing again, stumbling along the high street.
one dude, the guy that was having a "major crisis sorry for stealing him," is on your right, recounting the lore of their last night out, the group of 'em, getting lost on the way home, missing the last train, no ubers picking up the request, and having to walk back to the student housing, two hours away from where the gig was.
"and then, and then, that's not even the worst part," kirishima nearly hits you in the face when he gestures towards the other blonde of the group. he pats you gently on the shoulder in apology, but the volume level of his voice does not lower in the slightest when he says, "this dude, this fuckin' dude, ran off, like literally, sprinted into the distance, and left us."
jirou, who is to your left, chokes on her snort, pulls on your arm, calling your attention back to her, "all of our phones were dead, mind you."
"don't start talkin’ shit," the blonde in front of you suddenly cuts in, he's been quiet most of the night, aside from the occasional jeer, "i left you with the portable charger, i'm not a fuckin' asshole."
kirishima buffers, and then cries out, "dude, you left us. stranded."
"y'all made it home, didn't ya?"
"that is sosososo not the point."
the girls burst into snickers again, you are included in the hyena laughter, and you take a deep breath.
the streets are not quiet. it’s late, but it’s still so busy. cars and buses whizzing past, laughter and music pouring in from every open bar door.
this place, this city, it’s no wonder denki wanted to move up here.
bright, loud, vibrant.
just like him.
speaking of…
there’s suddenly a horrific, wailing, screech, that echoes around the street. you spin your head, sero and denki, both two steps behind you. or… were?
sero’s standing, sorry, crouching, hands on his knees, in a fit of cackles, coughing and spluttering. and denki, poor, sweet, denki, rushing back over to the group from where, you’re guessing, he was pushed into the road.
“stop fuckin’ around,” the blonde, scary, one bellows out at the both of them, to which they suddenly stand up straight, like well trained military dogs, “i’m not goin’ to a&e again for you schmucks.”
ah, that kicks off the idiots, “whadidhesayyy?”
“schmuck.” —and they both burst into another fit of boisterous cackles.
“are they always like this…?”
“yup.”
↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺
“mhmm, mhmmm that’s it baby, shiiiiit.”
denki’s always had this weird obsession with the way you smell. it’s not that you smell bad, usually you smell really fucking good, you have a… what’s the word… routine.
you have a routine. he’s seen you, watched you, even earlier tonight, he was sat on his bed ready to go, half scrolling, half watching you lather lotion across your limbs, practically drooling at the sight of your doughy thighs glistening with body butter.
and he thought that was the end. but then you pulled out your body oil, oh okay, which is actually very different to body lotion… apparently? and then, you’re done— oh, wait, no, now you have, uh, body spray? okay now you’re definitely finish– perfume oil? how many oils does one person need?
he can admit, the routine lasts, it does the job, he can get hints of it now, this close to you, whiffs of jasmine, and vanilla, and whatever that yummy spicy smell is, but that’s not what he means.
he loves the smell of your skin, of your sweat, of your natural body odour, that’s what makes it weird.
like right now, you’re sat on the closed toilet seat, in the back of that bar, the supposed ‘best spot in old town,’ with your legs thrown over denki’s shoulders, and him, on his knees before you, taking turns between viciously eating your pussy, and taking deep inhales of your cunt. he can’t help himself, there’s something addictive about you, pretty pink lips suckling on your clit, tongue lolling out to lick fat stripes across your sloppy, gummy, entrance, and his eyes rolling at you scent.
fuck, it’s “so good,” he dazedly mutters, nose buried into your bush, “sosososo so goooood mama holy fu-uck.”
your foot digs itself into his shoulder blade, as the vibrations of his drunken praise send shivers up your spine, “you’re so fucking nasty.”
“mmmm, i know, i know,” he does know, but he also doesn’t care, how could he, your fingers gripping his hair, your nails scratching at his scalp, your clit throbbing between his lips.
he takes a moment to very carefully trace his teeth along your pulsing bud, that makes you jolt, and hiss at him through your teeth, and clamp your thighs around his head, just like he wanted.
fffuck, he’s dizzy.
denki was already decently faded, but the smell of your pussy is even more intoxicating then any liquor, and so much sweeter, your juices just spilling into his mouth, so fucking delicious, oh lord.
you always get mean when you’re close, like your body doesn’t allow itself to experience pleasure without a negative output.
good thing denki likes it, right.
“shiiiiiit,” he gasps, between, disgustingly wet slobbers, his tongue prodding at your sensitive, stimulated, walls, “you gonna squirt in my mouth?” your mushy, gummy, pussy, just oozing with slick, all for him to gobble up, “oh, shit, please, pleasepleaseplease—”
and you cum with a hand burying his face into your cunt, hectic rolls of your hips, quivering thighs. your jelly legs collapse around his shoulders, your body slack against the wall, just panting for a minute, chest rising and falling with your laboured breaths. denki looks stupidly proud of himself, with that smug grin gracing his shiny lips. your heel kicks out again to smack that ridiculous look off his face, but it literally does nothing to deform his starry-eyed face.
“well, shit,” you breathe out finally, your eyes, half-lidded, as you watch him stand up, and snort at the crack of his knees.
“s’that all you got t’say?” denki snickers down at you while dusting the floor imprints off on jeans.
“what d’you want me to say?”
“oh, i dunno,” he fake contemplates, and then, in a stupidly high pitched tone that sounds absolutely nothing like you, goes “thank you, big dick daddy denki for eatin’ my pussy— OW FUCK.”
your foot, again, saying hello to his shin.
“who the fuck is calling you big dick daddy denki, you fucking loser?”
“ehhhh you’d be surprised.”
you’re about to say something else, maybe comment on how there’s a little wet patch on the crotch of his jeans, when a loud thump at the stall door interrupts your train of thought.
and, of course, no shame kaminari goes, “yellooo?” in the fucking most ridiculous, you’ve used ridiculous to describe him many a time but there really isn’t a better word, voice you’ve ever heard from a guy who was literally on his knees, seconds prior.
but, who’s voice is coming from the other side of the door?
“you’ve got all my smokes in y’er pocket, shitface.”
and you watch denki check, then pull a face, because he does have all sero’s smoke in his pocket, “oopsie, we’ll be right out!”
“we?”
and again, no-shame kaminari, just hits the latch on the door, and swings it open, while you’re still sat on the fucking toilet, recovering, and he’s still got your remnants smeared all over his mouth.
“stop fuckin’ disappearin….”
sero’s dark lazy eyes scan his friend, his glossy mouth, his flattened hair, the stain on his jeans.
he raises an eyebrow very slowly, then calls out to you, whom he can not see, but still, he knows his friend, “we have to stop meeting like this.”
“what did i say?” denki practically whines, “don’t fucking talk t’er.” and shoves his friend in the chest to make him back away from where he was leaning against the doorframe.
“what the fuck is your problem today,” sero sighs, not moving an inch, instead crossing one arm over the other and sneering down at his friend, “one minute it’s don’t talk to her, the next it’s please stay with her? what— i don’t even know what you’re thinking half the time.”
this is so fucking awkward, you wanna say something, or get up at least, but you also think, maybe, if you don’t move a muscle, they’ll both forget you’re there.
“unless…” sero pauses, the tip of his tongue peeking out, as he releases another one of those, vicious biting grins, “i know exactly what you’re thinking ‘bout.”
“you don’t know shit.”
“oh really?” he snarks back at denki, who is shaking with… you can’t even tell, and you’ve known denki for a long time, agitation? maybe?
until.
denki decides to make the very poor choice of turning his head, only slightly, to look back at you.
and it’s written all over his face.
because he's flushed, with something that is not the embarrassment of being caught eating pussy in a public restroom. in fact, he’s bitten his lips raw, his pupils are blown, and his eyes are formed into an expression you know very well.
you’re not stupid.
and this time you do want to say something, but you don’t even have the time to formulate the sentence in your head because denki pushes sero out of the stall with one hand, the other hand firm against the door frame, obscuring any vision of you from the outside, and says to you, “can you… uh… give us a minute? we’ll meet you outside—”
and then he’s gone. not by his own will, but because a tanned, flexed hand, has reached out, gripped his t-shirt and pulled him away.
the two guys stumble their way outside, through the bathroom and the purple lit bar interior, with sticky carpeted floors, and overwhelming chatter. there's no 'sorry’s' or 'excuse me’s' as they push past the intoxicated crowd with their elbows out, just denki spluttering the whole time.
“you are so— you’re such a— i can’t even—”
“then don’t,” sero breathes against his neck, as he pushes the blonde against the wall of the deserted alleyway. before his lips attach, grow teeth, and sink deep into denki’s skin, just below a mark that, sero assumes, you had left.
“so fucking needy, ain’t ya?” as he nibbles across the blonde’s pulse points, and curves his palm so he can cup denki’s straining erection. “s’kinda embarrassing if you ask me.”
“good thing no one was asking,” denki replies with his own fingers tracing along sero’s waistband.
sero groans at the tease, bucking his hips up into the sensation, “m’just saying, if you wanna ask her, ask her.”
this is like, the worst place possible to have this conversation.
it’s nearly 2am, the rest of the group is still inside, getting up to some bullshit like they always do, like denki has spent most of his college career doing. except he can’t participate properly, not this time, not when he has the self-proclaimed 'biggest moral dilemma of the century' looming over his head.
sero sighs, giving up on trying to undo denki’s belt, and rutting forward against his friend so both their crotches meet in this delicious tingle of friction, “i can hear you thinking y’know.”
“what if,” denki cuts himself off with a groan, and a roll of his hips, the cold brick wall doing nothing to soothe his feverish skin, “what if she thinks it’s weird?”
“why the— shit, that’s good— why the hell would she think it’s weird?”
his nails dig into sero’s shoulders at a particularly forceful thrust that has his head reeling, and his body whining, “’cos what do i even say like, hey i want you and my other-bestfriend-slash-roommate-slash-guy-i’m-currently-fucking-with to share me?”
“is that it?”
denki stills at the sound of your voice.
he tilts his head left and, you’re lent against the other side of the wall, half a joint hanging out of the corner of your mouth, patting your pockets down in search of a lighter.
sero, cheeses again, you roll your eyes at the sight of it, but hum in thanks when tosses a zippo your way. the sound of the spark wheel is like a honing signal, and sero release the tight grip he had on denki, who now crumples against the wall in embarrassment, to get a hit from you.
you inhale deeply, the end flaring up a bright cherry red, illuminating the bored look on your face in the dark alley.
you exhale in silence, pass the joint to sero, and make your way over to denki.
“dude,” you say softly, leaning your shoulder against the blonde, “you know you can ask me anything.”
↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺
“now what do you say?”
denki’s bed frame sounds like it’s gonna break, for real this time. it’s creaking and rattling like it only has seconds left to live before it collapse in on itself and takes the three of you down with it.
your pussy won’t let go, denki thinks he might actually die, with the way your walls are pulsing around his dribbling cock, practically milking him.
it wouldn’t be a bad way to go, the crease where your stomach meets your thighs and the sight of your jiggling tits will follow him into the afterlife. along with the way your hips tortuously grind down on him, and the unforgettable sensation of your pussy bubbling around the base of his cock, coating him in a juicy shine of slick, leaving that creamy ring stained forever into his memory.
“s-s-sorry?” he gasps out with laboured breaths, his chest caving, his heart feels like it’s gonna fall out of his throat from how fast it’s beating.
“hmmm, sorry for what?” you don’t give him a moment to think, sucking the soul out of his dick, you see his eyes rolls back into his head, dreamy, dopey, pussy drunk smile glazing his face.
“for–for being weird about it?” he finally croaks out when you slow at his silence.
you share a look with sero across denki’s shaking shoulders, from where he’s pistoling his cock into the blonde’s ass.
he sends you a smile, it forms slowly, beginning with a small grin, eventually spreading across his face, his lips stretching and curving, his teeth biting, with that same smirk in his eyes.
“and,” sero murmurs into his ears as his hands find purchase in denki’s hair, a mean grip that has the blonde carolling into your sweat slicked chest, the stimulus making his mind hazy, “you can ask for anything.”
denki’s head lolls, the sight of him, disoriented with pleasure, has you involuntarily clenching, which send him into another spiral, and leaving sloppy marks over any part of your body he can reach.
“say it.”
“i can—” denki groans against your skin, absolutely fucked out, his fingers bruising your hips with his grip, “holy fuck— i can a-ask for anything.”
"good boy," your voice is like honey in his ears, trickling sexual syrup right through his nervous system. the praise makes denki throb inside of you, you can feel it, the pulse, and you send it right back, rudely clenching down on him again, making him jerk his hips back in agony, right back into sero's cock.
it's disgusting, so fucking filthy, the room reeks of weed and your combined bodily fluids, his mattress is probably soaked in your sweat, and in denki's drool.
it's agonisingly good though, the near constant push and pull of three bodies.
denki feels like he's about to black out, and he keeps pathetically humping into both you and sero like that's gonna keep him from disaster.
his head tilts to suck on your tits, and you use his shoulder for leverage, so you can bounce on his properly, the motion sending him backwards into sero's hard chest, "denki, baby, you gonna cum for us?"
he gurgles in reply, too sex drunk to string any coherent thoughts together, just pleasure, pleasure, and more pleasure, his kiss-bitten body trembling, all your grunts and moans poured into his ears like fucking music.
"denki, denki, denki—"
god, he's gonna cum, he can feel it building, the two of you aren't far behind if the pick up in pace is anything to go by.
he can feel, fuck, hot under his veins, ecstasy thrumming through his body, it's never felt this good, he might die.
"denki—"
he's so fucking close, so close, oh god, everything, this long ass day, the constant tease from the both of you, and he finally gets to have this—
"DENKI!"
"huh, huh, what?"
his head flops back down into the pillow, the sunlight streaming through the open blinds is hurting his eyes, and god, his head is fucking pounding. his tongue slips out to wet his dry lips, fully content in going back to sleep, back to that fucking dream, anything to get away from the horrible light he can't seem to escape.
oh nevermind, he can't go back to sleep, not with his excrutiating morning wood, leaking pre all inside his boxers. he ruts down against the suprisingly smooth mattress beneath him with a satisfied groan, and another sleep filled sigh.
"dude are you serious?" an equally sleep stricken voice calls out from next to him.
oops. turns out his soft, smooth, mattress was his best-friends thigh.
denki's eyes flutter open weakly, and sero stares back at him, his dark hair a mess, his limbs stretched out across the bed.
"are you gonna stop that or what?" sero drawls back, voice hoarse with disuse, he raises a tatted arm to cover his eyes, and curses the morning under his breath.
the blonde's hips are still moving on auto pilot, relentlessly chasing a pleasure he can only imagine, until sero swats at him to stop.
hands rubbing his face, denki turns back around with a deep yawn, then starts feeling under the blankets for his vape.
"aren't we," sero yawns uncontrollably mid sentence, so hard tears start forming in his waterline, "uhh, aren't we supposed to go meet your friend at the station in a few?"
they can't stop the yawns now, denki stretches out his back as another one rips out, "s'too early man, s'way too early."
the blonde sits up against the headboard, smacking his dry lips for a minute, then says:
"dude, i just had the craziest dream."
taglist my asshole im so sorry im like dead on the inside lowkey
hellooo this is me reminding u to write about sleepy bkg leaving ur apartment at night and begging for more kisses 🫡🫡
GO HOME! (2.5k)
— bakugou katsuki x reader
your boyfriend doesn’t want to go home.
cw: suggestive, swearing, pretty tame
“i can hear you not putting your shoes on!” you shout from your kitchen, refilling up your water bottle by your sink.
it’s nearing eleven pm on a weekday and you’re nearing the end of your bedtime routine. after finishing your final session of tussling in bed with your boyfriend, you sleepily got to showering and doing your skincare while bakugou was tasked to go back home.
you’re screwing your lid back onto your bottle, bag of popcorn under one arm as you step into your foyer. you find your boyfriend slumped in your chair for putting shoes on, doing exactly not that.
bakugou katsuki is in his thick grey socks, a random pair of black joggers he left at your flat and his oversized khaki hoodie. he looks handsome, always does, but this time he’s appearing a little disheveled. a flower wilting as the clouds begin hiding the sun.
you’re his precious sun with the energy to keep him happy and at peace, till he’s forcefully pulled from your grip.
his hoodie is unzipped, the right side awkwardly longer than the left from being dragged on in a tantrum. his white tee underneath is creased from yanking it over his head with a guttural sigh. he’s even got a water stain on it from hovering over you when you washed your face in the bathroom.
he’s got his head in his hands, legs spread with his travel duffle by his feet. he hasn’t even managed to grab his shoes off your neatly organised rack by your door.
you potter over to him, shaking your head softly with a sweet coo.
bakugou does not want to go home.
“baby. go,” you hum, dragging your slippered feet across your floor.
you tuck your body between his open legs, putting down your bottle and snacks to lightly tickle under his chin. you receive the harshest glare you’ve ever experienced from him, though it’s still miles below the ones he gives at work.
calloused hands find the bare backs of your soft thighs and lightly, he squeezes.
“you fuckin’ hate me,” he huffs, but his pout comes through. all his features softening under your attention, minus the twist in his brows. “gettin’ rid of me like this.”
you don’t miss the hickies on his neck, two maroon bruises because all you’ve done together these past few days is kiss, cuddle, eat and have sex. since bakugou became your boyfriend, he often forgets about his own apartment. his home is much larger, much more luxurious with built in speakers in the ceilings and a double headed shower. but he always lingers in yours, though he never outstays his welcome. even now.
“i don’t want you to leave but you need to pack for your mission tomorrow,” you smile, taller than him as he sits.
he feels delirious when he stuffs his face in your cotton soft stomach. you smell freshly showered, clean, cosy and like home. bakugou feels like his heart has been stabbed with a fork. he already misses you and you’re right in front of him.
it’s like he’s fighting the devil on his shoulder, to just stay over again tonight and get up early tomorrow. he can grab his shit from home and go straight there. he knows that plan will throw his whole day off tomorrow. also you hate waking up early.
he blinks at you slowly, like a cat that loves what he sees.
for you, it’s easy to get hot from his touch alone and that stare makes you nudge in closer to him. you want to sit on his lap, kiss down his neck again, despite being all over him an hour ago.
“you want me to piss off so you can watch love island,” he breathes, looking up at you with the sweetest ruby puppy dog eyes. there’s a scratchy tone to his voice, sleepiness clearly taking over though he fights it to spend a second longer with you.
you know for a fact you’re the only person in this universe that has seen katsuki like this. that thought alone makes you want to call up his job and say he can’t come in tomorrow. say he’s sick so you can cuddle his big head in your lap. who would you even call? the hero commission? his sidekicks? he is his own boss.
“i do have a load of episodes to catch up on since you’ve been here,” you say sweetly and he eyes your snacks, then your water bottle placed on the shelf beside him.
he’s a grumpy baby in a twenty seven year old, muscled man’s body. he scrunches his nose at the mention of that show. he hates all reality tv, so he says, even though he ends up asking you for details throughout every episode.
“just say you hate me,” he grunts, tilting his head up for a kiss.
you don’t give in just yet.
“i love you but you’ve gotta go. you’ll be even grumpier without sleep in the morning,” you smile.
he rolls his eyes. ever the dramatic one. “yeah, yeah. i get it. love you too.”
you stand there for a few moments. his grip on your thighs getting tighter, his chin in your stomach. he rubs his cheek against your palm, his stubble prickling against you with every move.
“you need to put your shoes on—,”
“you look so pretty like this,” he murmurs, even biting down on his bottom lip.
you narrow your eyes at him. you know exactly what he’s doing and it usually has a hundred percent success ratio.
he pulls off you, keeping his hands on your thighs to look down your body. stupidly, it causes you to look down at yourself too.
your soft pastel pink boy shorts because you get hot at night. your comfy low cut navy strappy top, that has seen better days but you have no need to replace yet. your nipples poke through the fabric and you don’t miss bakugou’s gaze wafting over them with his tongue poking his cheek.
he looks as if he’s about to moan or take a bite out of you. you can’t tell yet. you don’t mind either.
“katsuki, stop it. you were supposed to leave an hour ago,” you look to your clock beside your front door. “an hour and a half ago.”
bakugou grits his teeth then relaxes by kissing the strip of your stomach between your vest and shorts. he releases the quietest whine.
“i wanna stay here with you.”
even though he’s being dramatic, you’ll see him in less than a week, every word releases tingles down your spine.
you press a kiss to his lips, to which he eagerly pushes back. his hands sneak up to your waist holding you with purpose. it’s only a peck but everything he’s feeling is translated through.
“you’re killin’ me,” he says onto your lips.
“it’s not me, baby. you have the world to save tomorrow. you can make love to your girlfriend when you get back,” you say tenderly, brushing your thumb over his cheek.
“i’m givin’ you a good fuckin’ when i see you again.”
“you always do,” you shrug playfully and bakugou chuckles, shaking his head in resignation.
“fuck. fuck my life,” he grunts to himself, pulling his slides off your shoe rack and shoving them onto his feet.
“it feels like you’re obsessed with me, kats,” you giggle to yourself, stepping back so he has space to stand up and sling his duffle over his shoulder.
he raises one eyebrow, a huffy laugh releasing from his throat.
“hm? you think?” he takes his hand through his hair, a light pink blush on his cheeks from your attention. “‘course i fuckin’ am. i’m comin’ right back to get you when i’m done.”
you lift up on your tiptoes, hands on his pectorals, “if you say so.”
“i do say so. i am sayin’ that,” he mumbles, hands finding your ass to lift you with ease.
you wrap your legs around his waist so he doesn’t have to bend to kiss you.
“next thursday, okay?” he kisses the corner of your lips, feeling your cheeks rise. “and still text me. i’ll have my phone on me in the evenings.”
you smooth down his eyebrows with your thumbs.
“yes, dynamight sir,” you drawl, but you lean in to peck him, a noisy kiss that has him chasing after you. he moans softly.
“another.” he whispers.
with your arms wrapped around his neck, you give his bottom lip a nibble, one that causes an exasperated groan. then you slot your lips over his, pushing your tongue into his mouth to tangle against his. it’s long, wet and pulses throughout your body.
you push your chest against his as if you’re trying to merge into one, bakugou’s fingertips sinking into your ass cheeks.
it’s you that pulls away, landing two kisses on his lips for good measure.
“baby, no.” he complains.
since you’re the only one with self control here, you tap his shoulder.
“put me down now. you’ve got to go.” you say controlled and bakugou throws his head back in annoyance, “need you wide awake on the field so you don’t get hurt. i don’t wanna see a scratch on your pretty face when you come back.”
that gets him putting you down, your feet finding the floor. since getting with you, he’s much more mindful of his recklessness and getting hurt. bakugou doesn’t want to scare or upset you. you’ve become his beacon of light, his conscience and answer.
“my pretty face?” he grips the handle to his bag, a smirk rising. he’s still taking in his last few seconds.
you nod, “yes. come home safe to me.”
“i always do. don’t have to doubt me, princess.”
the pet name gets you rolling your eyes to hide how it makes your stomach do flips. he undoes both your door locks and slowly opens it with his shoulder like it weighs a tonne.
as if it’s becoming real all of a sudden, you throw yourself into his chest, wrapping your arms around him in a cuddle under his hoodie. you feel complete once you stuff your cheek between his pectorals and you squeeze him tight as thick arms cradle you in. katsuki’s always warm and toasty, a tall standing mattress for you to fall asleep on.
despite you urging him to leave, it doesn’t mean your heart doesn’t ache.
“i’ll miss you,” you say, eyes squeezed shut.
you’re just as dramatic as him, you just hide it better. you’ll see him next week.
“i’ll miss you. gonna think about you when i’m on the camp site shittin’ in the woods.”
your laugh makes bakugou’s chest swell.
“you’re so annoying.”
he shrugs.
with all the power he’s ever possessed in one single time, bakugou lets you untangle from him.
“i’m gonna go now.” he looks down your empty corridor, “i could stay over tonight and leave in the mornin’—.”
“you’re not waking me up at three.”
he turns to you with a frown.
“fine. another kiss, to wish me well,” he demands.
that you can do.
a smush of your lips, you gripping his tee as his hand cups your chin.
“another. for good luck.”
you huff playfully but still you give him another kiss. one that has you opening your mouth and letting him slot his tongue in between. it goes on longer than you mean, with you dragging him closer and his hands land back on your hips.
it’s when he groans without realising, a hardening bump in his waistband pressing against your stomach.
“go now!” you say, pushing him off you and bakugou drags a palm down his face.
“fuck,” he breathes, shaking the horny off his body. not the time. “i’ll see you next week. lock the door behind me. all of them.”
“i always do!”
he flickers down your body, one step into the corridor.
bakugou bites down on his bottom lip, “i love you. can’t wait to see you again.”
you awe, gripping the door and peeking out, “i love you too. i’ll keep you updated. even send you some selfies.”
bakugou nods rapidly, “please. i won’t be able to reply quickly but i will.”
“okay, i’ll see you later.”
he’s about to step away, he swears he is though he looks back at you peeping at him.
“one last kiss then i’m outta your sight,” he promises.
you eagerly pull out from behind the door, “last one! then you have to go!”
“yeah, yeah, yeah—,” he’s rough in the way you love, placing a palm flat on your back to pull you into him. you practically fall into his arms but quickly you’re up on your tiptoes.
it’s a kiss with the energy that it could be the last one you ever have. a hero going off on a mission and leaving his beautiful girl back home. though this isn’t one of his high risk ones, heck he’s going on his own because he’s so capable. yet still the day he returns feels like forever away.
you practically eat each other's faces, unable to stay appropriate down to your last moments together. you twist to the left as he goes right, holding the back of his head so he stays close. he’s not shy to push his cock into you, letting you know all the ways he will miss you.
it’s loud and messy. it’s trying to remember every inch of him so you can recall it in your nights alone. it’s bakugou groping every part of you he can get his hands on so he can mark you as his.
your blonde sucks on your tongue and you don’t mean to palm him but he ruts into you at the contact. you moan as pleasure sparks beneath your skin, the length of him growing cupped in your palm. you’re wondering if there’s time for another session even though he was meant to leave two hours ago.
the kiss only ends because you’re both breathless, using your last breaths to connect with the other. there’s giggles from you and three extra pecks before you force yourself to step away, using your front door as a shield from your riled up boyfriend.
you watch as he adjusts himself, rolls back his shoulders in a stretch and tries to screw his head on straight.
“goodbye now. for real, kats.”
he nods sharply, stretching his jaw side to side. “bye baby. i’m hard now.”
“that’s your own fault for begging for more kisses,” you grin.
he pouts, “how couldn’t i when you look like—,”
“bye katsuki. my tv is calling me!”
“fuck,” he groans, holding onto his bag strap and throwing his head back, “bye princess.”
comments n reblogs are appreciated. part 2 comments are deleted.
the weed dispensaries should ask if you would like to round up your purchase to donate to PBS. and if you say yes you get to scan a QR code that gives you 30-day free access to the full run of antiques roadshow. this is how drugs can win the war on drugs again.
IMPORTANT PSA! If you contribute to PBS or any local public broadcasting subsidiary at $5/mo ($60/yr) or above, you gain access to PBS Passport, which has a tremendous library of public broadcast programs available…including the full run of antiques roadshow
you just got out of katsuki’s agency, done working for the day. the stress from today’s patrol starts to show in your body, hands slightly trembling.
“you okay?” he asks.
“mhm, just need a little something to calm down.” you replied.
katsuki sighs as you pulled out a box from your hero suit, the smell of cigarettes lingering in the air. “you smokin’ again?”
“sometimes, but not as much anymore.” you replied. “ugh, i forgot my lighter upstairs” you groan, placing the cigarette onto your lips and the box back in your pocket.
“want me to go get it?” he pushes hair out of your face, smirking.
you smiled, taking his hand into yours.
“no, gimme a light.” you stared at his palm.
“what? fuck no, i’m not using my quirk for your stupid cancer stick.”
“katsuki.”
he saw the tiredness on your face, not willing to argue with him, so he gave in. he slightly warmed his palm, a light orange hue casting onto his skin, making the cigarette light up.
you thanked him as you inhaled the smoke, head laying on his shoulder as you walk to his car.
