this was supposed to be a blurb and it ended up becoming a full-on one-shot........turns out i'm in love with neighbor!steve <3
summary: steve harrington has lived in the house next to yours for years, and his latest favorite past-time is flirting with you every opportunity he gets. when he doesn't come home for a few days, you start to worry about your boy next door.
cws: steve being a flirty lil shit, mentions of blood, allusions to trauma, things get a little emotional at the end but happy ending ofc, not proofread!
word count: 1.6k
steve harrington, your next door neighbor, who always insists on flirting with you and trying to wiggle his way into your life. when you're out walking your dog in the morning, inky hues of night still lingering in near-glacial temperatures, and you're still wearing pajamas because you were woken out of a deep sleep for a potty break, steve's peering out his window, undoing the hatches to wolf whistle at you.
"lookin' good, sweetheart!" you'll hear, and when you twist your body, eyes still blurry from your slumber, you'll roll your eyes at his cute bedhead and bare torso.
"you stalking me or something?" you ask, tightening your grip on your dog's leash when you stop to flirt back.
"nah, just had a feeling an angel was near."
you laugh and throw a middle finger his way, making his sleepy eyes crinkle with a grin.
another time, your parents are throwing their annual holiday party, and you've been tasked with taking the trash out midway through the evening. it's no surprise that steve is hot on your trail the moment you leave through the basement door, a maroon dress fit tight around your curves.
"i think you forgot to invite me to your party," he'll greet, snatching the garbage bag from your grasp. it jangles with the sound of empty liquor and wine bottles.
you snort. "not mine, my parents. trust me, this is not how i want to be spending my saturday night."
you don't question it as steve dumps the bag in the recycling bin, your teeth nearly chattering from leaving the warmth of your home without a jacket.
steve flashes you a compassionate glance, reaching to shrug off his jacket. you shake your head, knowing you're right outside your house, but he wordlessly insists. you accept it, instantly comforted by the scent of his cologne lingering along the collar.
"you look beautiful." he says, and your eyebrows raise involuntarily. quickly, he clears his throat. "stay warm, killer."
and before you have a chance to thank him or to return his jacket, his back is to you, walking in the direction of his own house, where the only light on glows from his bedroom window.
the most recent time it happens, it's on your own accord.
you haven't seen steve in days, the burgundy beemer you've grown used to looking for missing from its assigned parking spot in his parents' driveway. you wonder if he's on some sort of holiday vacation, or maybe he's had a girlfriend all this time and he's spending all his time with her. regardless, you swallow down the lump of realization that steve has officially squirmed his way into your brain.
after four days of walking past your bedroom window, pretending not to look across the way for the golden gleam of his own room, pretending not to wait for his car to return home, he's finally back.
a wave of relief washes over you. you don't give it a second thought as you're grabbing his jacket — the same one he gave you a week ago, the same one you've been waiting for the perfect moment to return so you had an excuse to cross your yard into his. you knock on the large wooden door, nibbling on your bottom lip as you wait for him to answer.
and at first, he doesn't.
you rock back on your feet awkwardly, wondering if maybe you should just run back to the safety on your own home, chancing one more knock before you decide to do just that. only then do you hear a man faintly grumbling, your eyes wide when he swings open the door.
"henderson, i told you, just walkie me— oh."
steve is standing across from you with a black eye, bloodied cuts decorating his face. immediately, the annoyed expression on his face falls, replaced with something more akin to... embarrassment, maybe? shame? you don't know.
you're also not sure what to say.
"sorry," he finally says, clearing his throat. "i thought you were... someone else."
"that's okay," you rush out, "i know i've never come over here before, but i, um, wanted to give you your jacket back."
steve nods, glancing down at the brown suede jacket in your grasp. as if you just remembered you're holding it, you quickly extend your arm. he takes it.
"thanks."
you nod. "are you okay?"
the question comes out before you have a chance to stop it. you're not a nosy person, never one to press for details in other people's lives, but the tired, defeated boy before you isn't one you recognize.
steve shrugs. unsure. distracted.
"it's complicated," he says, his voice somewhat broken. you get that. you understand complicated.
"do you need help?"
he shuffles from one foot to the other, allowing his lips to part. you watch as his throat bobs.
"will you ask questions?" steve asks, and you can tell by his fractured tone that he doesn't want to talk or explain why his face looks the way it does. you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't want to ask him a million questions. but you know there's no one else home in that empty house — there never is — and you can't bare the thought of steve cleaning himself up alone.
so, you shake your head.
silently, he steps aside and you enter, toeing your shoes off by the doormat. you remember coming to the harrington residence once when you were a kid. you didn't interact with steve much, though you remember him wearing a stuffy suit that no 7-year-old should ever be subjected to. they were hosting a housewarming party after recently moving to the neighborhood. your mom made them a bundt cake, and you remember passing by the kitchen towards the end of the party and watching steve's mom throw it in the garbage, mumbling something about useless calories and sugar.
the sound of steve clicking the door shut breaks you from your memory and you turn to face him. "where's your bathroom? i'll patch you up."
he nods curtly and juts his chin up towards the stairs. you follow him up to his bedroom and ensuite bathroom, where he had already started the process of cleaning his wounds. you swallow at the sight of damp, bloodied tissues surrounding the sink.
"sit down." you command softly. he does. you reach for the first aid kid already out on the countertop, most of its contains splayed across the marble.
"you're running low on band-aids," you notice, opting for a small hand towel. you turn the sink on and wait for the water to run lukewarm. steve hums in acknowledgement. "let me know if anything hurts, alright?"
he nods as you start the slow, calculated process of cleaning dried blood from his skin. you don't allow yourself to think much or wonder where — or who — any of it came from.
"close your eyes," you murmur, moving up to the cuts along his eyebrow. he does as he's told, his eyelashes fluttering closed. slowly, you watch as he starts to decompress, leaning into your touch with slow, even breath.
"that's better." you whisper once the blood is gone. you toss the bloodied rag into the sink, then grab a band-aid. when you return to your work — a hurt, beautiful boy with purpled bruises that decorate the expanse of his skin — his eyes are open again. you swallow, getting down on your knees, gently placing the band-aid to his upper cheekbone.
you let your fingertips linger, brushing a thumb over his jaw. he shudders quietly.
"close your eyes again," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. when he does, you slowly lean forward, ghosting a barely-there kiss to his cheek. "does that hurt at all?"
steve swallows, stretching his hand over his knee. "no. 's good."
you nod, even if he doesn't see it. you place another light kiss to his chin, then his jaw.
"okay?" you ask.
his eyes bat open and you worry if you've crossed a boundary. instead, he reaches to you, a wide-fingered grip to your side. gently, he helps you off your knees, then tugs you into his lap.
"i don't wanna hurt you—"
"you're not," he says. gentle. soft. not the flirtatious pain in the ass you've come to know, but a subdued, delicate version of that same boy. immediately, you know you adore both sides. "seeing you around the neighborhood is the highlight of my day sometimes."
it's a confession that's professed so quietly, you're not sure you even heard him correctly. but when he looks down at you, all bruises and wide eyes, you know you didn't imagine it.
"i was worried about you. when i didn't see you for a few days."
"'m sorry," he mumbles, nudging his nose against yours. "like i said, it's... complicated."
"that's okay."
he nods, just a sway or two of his head, before he's inching closer, his lips impossibly close to yours. you ball your hand into the fabric of his worn tee-shirt and he smiles, tenderly, then closes the gap between you.
it's not the heated makeout session that steve had been dreaming about for the past year, but it's sweeter this way; cluing you into the tiniest puzzle piece of his admittedly fucked up life. he holds you close and you're all but clawing at his shirt, desperate to press his chest even tighter to yours, before you're breaking apart, strings of spit snapping between kiss-swollen lips.
"stay," steve murmurs against your mouth, kissing you again — quicker this time, a million ways to convince you behind his lips, "my parents are gone and i've been waiting for this, for you, for so long."
you nod, quickly and fervently.
"yeah," you say, smoothing out the wrinkles of his shirt from your grip. "i'll stay. as long as you need me to."
for the first time in a week, it feels like steve can finally release the breath he's been holding.
contents: scheming dustin, i suck at writing fluff
summary: suzie is in town visiting and dustin asks you to chaperone their arcade date, but what you don't know is that he also invited a certain someone...
everyone knew dustin was head over heels in love with his girlfriend suzie bingham. they had met one summer night during math camp. they were sitting amongst their peers around the campfire, and their hands met while both rooting through the marshmallow bag. it was history from there. they were crushed when June came to an end, but you made sure to reassure your baby brother that the United States Postal Service was still up and running. after suzie's brilliant mind helped you guys survive the russians, you had taken a liking to the young girl, even though you had never met her.
suzie had confessed to dustin that her family was taking a road trip to new york, and they would be passing through hawkins. after a few phone calls, you had successfully helped dustin convince suzie's strict parents to let them go on a date. with the promise that you'd chaperone, of course.
the time had finally come. you helped dustin pick out an outfit for his big night. he ultimately decided on cargo shorts, a collared yellow shirt, and, much to your chagrin, his denim vest. while he puffed his hair up with farrah fawcett spray, a technique he had learned from the legendary steve "the hair" harrington, you stepped out into the living room to converse with the binghams.
you kind-of knew steve. not on any sort of personal level, but with all the antics that had come to hawkins, you had grown accustomed to working with him efficiently. you both knew dustin wanted to get you two together. everytime you two were in the same room, he would look back and forth between you guys eagerly; hoping to catch even a fragment of feelings that weren't there.
weren't there so you thought. you never noticed steve's lingering gazes. you never picked up on the way he would study your concentrated face, or all the times he insisted on going with you instead of the others, just to make sure you were careful. of course you thought steve was handsome. who wouldn't? but to you: he would never give you a chance. so you stuffed those bubbling feelings back down in your chest and went about your life.
the ride to the arcade was long. in reality, it was only about ten minutes; but the cringy tween dialogue happening in the backseat was so painstakingly awkward that it couldn't end soon enough. the number of giggles and cheek kisses and "we'll be together forever baby"s was starting to make your head hurt.
pulling into the parking lot of the arcade, you turned around and raised your finger to point.
"no funny business. no kissing in the arcade. i'll be sitting at a booth if you need me. we're leaving at 11,"
the kids looked at one another, nodding before reaching eagerly for their accompanying door handles. they raced inside, and you sat back with a huff. chaperoning the world's lamest date was not on your to-do list for this weekend. but you loved your little brother, and it was only for a couple of hours, right?
once inside the arcade, you were temporarily assaulted with the must of sweaty kids and horny teens, not to mention the stench of metal from all the quarters being exchanged. the music was loud and the lights were harsh and you started to feel more at a rave than an arcade.
you had only just started scanning the room for a seat when your eyes landed on the back of a very well manicured head of hair.
"steve?"
the head whipped around quickly, a grin spreading across the front.
"y/n?" he quickly stood up, almost tripping over his nike sneakers. "what are you doing here?"
"i'm babysitting dustin and his date. riveting, i know." you ran a hand through your hair, trying to hide the obvious redness spreading across your cheeks.
"that's weird. i'm supposed to be chaperoning them. dustin called me yesterday to ask."
the silence between you two was growing rapidly. why would dustin ask steve to come when you were already up for the job? it was redundant and silly and-
"oh.. you two found each other,"
dustin's voice made you snap back to reality. you turned to him with your hands on your hips and a disapproving look on your face.
"why are we both here? what's going on?" you demanded.
steve didn't look disapproving in the slightest. he had a small smile on his face, and he kept glancing over to you every couple of seconds. still, he prodded dustin with the same question.
"well, i don't know. i just- i feel like you guys, i just want you to be- does anyone want slushies?" dustin attempted to turn and walk away but steve swiftly grabbed him by his shirt collar and guided him into a seat.
"why did you ask us both to chaperone you and suzie?" you asked.
"yeah. not cool bro. i could've been spending tonight with the ladies.. or, something." steve's eyes darted quickly around the table before landing on you, and then his lap.
dustin had this look on his face. like somehow he was going to be in the worst trouble he had ever known. he didn't mean to cause a scene or make you hate him, he just wanted to get you and steve together. it had been so long since there was a male role model in the house, he figured it couldn't do any harm. but dustin didn't know about the pounding in steve's chest whenever you came into the room or the way you secretly fantasized at night about what his breath would feel like on your skin.
after being dismissed, dustin left the booth to return to his girlfriend. he felt defeated, and you noticed.
"i hope he's okay. i didn't want him to feel like i was mad." you added, shifting in your seat. "i love him a lot and i just-"
your words were cut off by the feeling of warmth on your hand. steve had placed his over yours. his hand was big and strong and kind of hairy. it took a second, but your heart had to start beating again.
"i know why he did it," steve breathed.
"what?"
"i overheard him and the gang the other night when i went to pick him up. they want to get us together,"
you didn't know what to think. dustin playing matchmaker? in what world did steve harrington want to be with you?
"and i agree,"
huh?
"huh?" you managed to get out.
"yeah, i don't know. it's stupid. but like, lately i cant seem to stop thinking about you and every time i see you i feel like i can't breathe and i just can't stop smiling when i see your face except right now because you look angry," he professed.
before you could stop yourself, your lips were on steve's. his hand was in your hair and his other snaked around your back to pull you closer.
"el needs to be independent and make her own choices, that's why mileven should break up!!1!" EL HAS ALREADY HAD MULTIPLE INDEPENDENCE ARCS AND EVERY SINGLE TIME SHE STILL CHOOSES TO BE IN A ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP WITH MIKE!!! STOP DIMINISHING HER AGENCY STOP IT!!!
Summary: After a foolish act of bravery nearly gets you killed, you and Steve have the argument of a lifetime. Unfortunately, (or maybe fortunately) your boyfriend happens to be ridiculously hot when he’s angry, and the line between fury and passion has a tendency to stretch very thin when it comes to the two of you.
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI; Smut!, Unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it, friends), Angry sex, My hand slipped and Steve is dominant as fuck, Dirty talk, Please let me know if I forgot anything!!
Author's Note: We all knew this day would come, and now it’s finally here. In honor of Steve Harrington’s Canonically Huge Dick, I present to you my first full-on smut drabble. Special thanks to @flowersforbucky for proofreading! And as usual, please let me know what you think! If you guys like this, there’s a pretty big chance you can expect more like it in the future!!
-
Steve Harrington, your boyfriend and the absolute love of your life, drives you fucking crazy.
He’s overprotective, bossy, always ready with a sarcastic comment, and so fucking cocky sometimes that you want to wring his gorgeous neck.
Perhaps luckily for both of you, you drive him crazy right back.
You’ve spent the last half hour or so shouting at each other. In his car. In his front yard. Through the halls of his empty house. And now in his bedroom, where he’s running a frustrated hand through his hair and pacing back and forth and still just as absolutely furious with you as he was since the fight began.
“What’s the point of a plan if you’re never going to stick to it?! What the fuck did you think was going to-“
“I didn’t think! I didn’t need to think! If I hadn’t gone in there, those fucking monsters would have-“
“They would have ripped you apart if I hadn’t gotten there in time!”
“But they didn’t.”
“But they would have!”
You swear you mean to leave. You mean to turn on your heel and storm out, to shake off the anger and stomp home and wait for the adrenaline and fury and…everything else to wear off on its own.
But Steve catches your wrist, and spins you back toward him, and his face is flushed and his jaw is clenched and his eyes are on fire and…well, he must be having a similar thought process about your current state, because suddenly his mouth is crushed to yours and his hands are moving up to tangle in your hair with a ferocity that steals the breath from your lungs. He backs you into the door of his bedroom, slamming you against it and caging you in with his body so hard that the impact might hurt if it weren’t for his hand catching the back of your head to shield you from the blow.
“You drive me insane.” He growls, low, as his furious hands tug your shirt over your head like the garment is the most offensive thing he’s ever seen. “Never fucking listen. Always talking back.”
“Take this off.” You tug at his own shirt, breathless and growing increasingly more desperate with each layer of clothing remaining between you.
“And bossy.” But he pulls his shirt over his head, ducking back down to bite at your neck hard enough to make your knees buckle.
“Oh, I’m the bossy one now-“ he cuts you off with another bite, hands sliding over your waist as he presses you tighter against the door until there doesn’t seem to be a millimeter of space left between you.
“Do you have any idea what could have happened if I hadn’t been there in time?” His words are dangerously quiet against your jaw, and you think he might be shaking. You pull back, catching his lips with your own as you begin to fumble with his belt. He responds faster than the crack of a whip, snatching your wrists with one hand and pinning them to the wall above your head without once breaking the kiss.
“Never sticking to the fucking plan.” He continues between demanding kisses, the fingers of his free hand working expertly at the button of your jeans. “Never. Fucking. Listen.”
“We didn’t have time to- oh God.” Your defense is cut off with a gasp as his hand dives beneath your waistband, and you hear his breath catch as his skilled fingers find just how desperate you are for him.
“Fuck-“ for just a moment, his composure breaks. You whimper, the sound leaving you before you can remember that you’re trying to sass him, and he crushes his lips to yours again as he begins to work you like a well-loved instrument. Despite his words, and the gravel still lacing his tone, his movements aren’t rough. He holds you still against the wall, completely in control, but his kiss is loving and his fingers are deft as they move in the exact way he knows will make you fall apart faster than you can think.
“Almost lost you, because you can’t stop throwing yourself into danger.” He murmurs, crooking his finger and adding a second in a single smooth movement that makes your toes curl.
“We didn’t have…t-time, fuck. Steve.”
“Still arguing with me.” He almost grumbles, but his voice is so raw and his fingers are speeding up inside of you and his thumb is working in small circles and you’re having trouble remembering to be pissy with him. That’s probably his fucking intention, but you definitely can’t complain right now. “You almost die, and two seconds later you’re arguing with me.” He pulls back, just far enough to let his nose bump against yours, eyes locked on your face like he’s trying to memorize every expression that crosses it.
He’s losing his grip on his anger, too. You can see the fury in his eyes replace itself with something like reverence as they look into yours, as he crooks his fingers again and swallows your gasp of helpless pleasure like it’s a drug. “Fuck, you’re beautiful. Hold onto me.”
He releases your wrists, and pulls his fingers back so quickly that you nearly sob from the sudden loss. Your arms move to lock around his broad shoulders before you can think, and his hands come down to the backs of your thighs so he can lift you against the wall and kiss you so hard and rough that you forget how to breathe right. His hips rock against yours, and when your nails dig into the warm skin of his back he groans low enough for the sound to vibrate through you.
“Want you.” You murmur, and he moans again as he pulls you back from the door and lowers you onto the bed, still so careful despite his anger.
Once again, your hands move down to tug at his belt, desperate for more of him, and once again, he bats them away.
“Not yet.” He murmurs into the hollow of your throat, trailing searing kisses over your collarbone as he crawls lower. Lower. You whine, arching your back in frustration as your fingers curl against his shoulders in a stubborn attempt to pull him back to you.
“Steve, just-“
He interrupts you with a sharp bite to your hip, hands already working to pull you out of your jeans.
“Do you really think,” his voice is even lower now, dark eyes still burning as he turns them up to you, “that after the shit you pulled tonight, you get to tell me how to fuck you?”
You do your best to glare, even as his words send molten heat through your already burning bloodstream. You can’t find it in yourself to answer, and his satisfied hum only makes you burn hotter. Cocky bastard.
“That’s what I thought.” He murmurs, thumbs hooking in the waistband of your underwear and pulling them down as you squirm with a desperation that makes frustration ignite in your core all over again.
He lifts your knee over his shoulder, ducking back down to drag his blunt teeth along the inside of your thigh, and you try so, so hard not to give in. To stay mad at him. To find the words to tell him that he was being overprotective and you had everything under control and just because you’re about to lose your mind with lust and need doesn’t mean you’re done yelling at him.
And then his mouth is on you, hot and skilled and overwhelming, and anything you might have said is cut off by a near-sob of pleasure.
“That’s it.” He murmurs, the words vibrating through you as your fingers tangle helplessly in his hair. “Lemme hear you.”
The way Steve Harrington can take you apart with his mouth should be studied by science. The way you see stars as he writes sonnets into your body with his tongue, the way his fingers join the machinations of his mouth to make you cry out so loudly you’re worried you might wake half the fucking neighborhood. Your thighs threaten to close around his head, and his hand moves up to push your knee back down onto the bed, moaning into you like he’s getting off on this just as much as you are and it’s so fucking hot you might die.
Your high approaches like a fucking freight train, barreling towards you almost alarmingly fast. It’s overwhelming to the point of near-pain, but Steve doesn’t stop. Not for a second. His hand leaves your thigh, sliding up your stomach and your ribs until you’re almost mindlessly clawing at the muscled bicep before you, desperate to anchor yourself to anything solid.
His hand catches your fingers instead, threading them through his own, and when you look down, his eyes are dark and starved and possessive and locked right the fuck onto yours, and you fall over the edge with a scream of his name.
When you come to, still struggling to catch your breath, it’s to your boyfriend climbing up your body like a panther poising to attack, lips brushing over any exposed skin he can reach like he’s trying to inhale you into his very lungs.
“So good. You did so good for me…” he murmurs as he reaches the hollow of your throat, and you can only raise a hand to comb your fingers weakly through his hair. Your grip tightens, however, when you feel his own fingers return to where they were aiding his tongue moments ago, making you gasp and squirm beneath him, still oversensitive.
“S-Steve.” You start, only to be cut off by a sharp gasp as he slips two digits inside of you without so much as a warning.
“Shoulda tied you to the fuckin’ headboard.” He growls, breath warm against the shell of your ear. The words make you arch beneath him, and it takes a lot more focus than you would like to admit for you to smirk.
“Still mad, huh?”
He catches the lobe of your ear between his teeth, and speeds up the movement of his hand until you’re writhing.
And once again, his fingers move and curl inside of you, relentlessly massaging your sweet spot until you’re shaking beneath him.
He kisses you, slow and hungry and deep, and whispers soft praise against your lips until he finally builds you slowly back up to the precipice. Works you open until you’re moaning and gasping shamelessly into his mouth.
Just as you’re about to combust, clinging to him like a lifeline, he pulls back.
“No no no-“ you gasp, mindlessly, and almost reach down between you before his hand flies up to catch yours, pressing it back against the sheets by your head.
“Shhh.” He coos, nuzzling into your cheek with a cocky smirk. “Not so quick to talk back now, are ya?”
“Asshole.” You wish you meant it. He laughs, kissing your cheek, and finally reaches down to tug his jeans over his hips.
He’s big. Almost too big. Even with all of the preparation, all of the time he took to work you open for him, the stretch makes you whimper as he pushes in, slow and careful and shaking with restraint.
“You can take it, baby.” He half-whispers, more than a little breathless himself, and squeezes your hand a little tighter as he tucks his face into the crook of your neck. “I’ve got you. My girl. So fucking tight. Made for me, yeah? You were fucking made for me…”
He kisses you again, groaning as he sinks all the way into you, and begins to move in a slow, steady rhythm. Like he’s savoring every thrust. Like he’s taking his sweet time making sure each movement hits the deepest, warmest parts of you.
“S-Steve.” His name leaves your lips in a desperate gasp, and the fingers of the hand not holding your own tighten behind your knee as he pulls it up a little higher around his hip.
“What is it, baby?” He asks, teasing and soft as you writhe beneath him. His lips glide over the line of your jaw, and his next thrust is just a little rougher. A little more intense. It sends a shot of pleasure through you, but it’s not enough. Not nearly. You whimper, the fingers of your free hand digging deep into his bicep as you try to match his movements with your own. Try to create just a little bit more friction.
He tsks at you, holding you still as he presses his lips to yours.
“Mm, always such a firecracker.” He purrs, another slow roll of his hips making you keen. “But you get so sweet like this, don’t you?”
“Steve.” You nearly sob his name now, and he still doesn’t pick up speed, but he does slide his tongue between your lips with a rock of his hips that has your eyes rolling into the back of your head.
“Shh,” he coos again , and you can see the restraint in his shoulders. See how difficult it is to keep his slow rhythm in the way sweat beads on his brow. “Be good, and I’ll give you what you want.”
“Y-you…ngh.” The insult dies on your tongue.
“I what?” He whispers, breath warm against your cheek. His hand tightens in yours, still teasing, and your toes curl as your head falls back against the pillows with frustration. More more more. You need more so badly you can’t think straight. You know he does too. You’re going to kill him. “You know what I wanna hear, sweetheart.”
He wants you to beg. You’re definitely gonna kill him.
“This is…you’re…” words are not your friend, it seems.
He thrusts a little harder, just once, and you whine. “C’mon, be sweet for me.”
“Please.” You nearly sob, and he grins as his free hand comes up to smooth over your hair. “Please, please please.”
“Good girl.” He purrs, and finally starts to speed up. Finally angles himself to hit that spot inside of you that has you moaning into his shoulder. “Was that so hard?”
“Steve.”
And even with the way his fingers tangle in your hair, tilting your head back so he can kiss you so roughly you wonder if your lips might bruise, and the way he snaps his hips so hard against yours you wonder if the headboard is going to dent the wall, his fingers are still tangled in yours by your head. His eyes are still locked on your own, and there’s so much love in his gaze that you think you might drown in it.
You’re drowning in him, and you never want to come up for air.
“I love you.” He whispers, hoarse and hungry and raw. “I love you so much. Doing so good for me. Fuck.” He kisses you again, and you can do nothing but sob out more pleas and broken forms of his name.
You feel like you’re on fire. It’s so good it hurts. You can’t think. You can’t speak. You wonder for a moment if he’s somehow broken your brain, mind almost too empty to even register the sweet words he’s whispering against your skin.
You try to tell him so. Try to express the intensity of what’s building inside of you. The words fail, and you just choke on a whimper of “S’ t-too…”
“I’ve got you.” He kisses your cheek. Your nose. Your lips. “I’ve got you. Let go for me. Wanna feel it.”
And you do. You’re too far gone to even scream anymore, biting down so hard on his shoulder that you’re positive it’s going to leave a bruise and clinging to him with everything you’ve got as your vision goes completely white for the second time tonight.
“So good... Fuck, fuck baby.” His breath is warm against your throat as you slowly fall back to earth. He follows you over the edge, pulling back to press his lips to yours in a surprisingly gentle kiss as he comes apart with a guttural moan of your name.
You’re boneless. Exhausted. Damp with sweat and still trying to remember how to form coherent thought.
Steve seems to be in the same boat, collapsing on top of you and taking a moment to catch his breath. His nose nuzzles into the skin beneath your jaw, hand releasing your leg to slide lovingly up over your waist.
“You okay?” He murmurs, and you can only nod, reaching up to wrap your arms around his shoulders with an exhausted hum.
“Still mad?” You ask, and he finally pulls back to look down at you again, fingers tracing over your still-flushed cheek.
“You can’t do that.” He says, soft and just a little rasped. “You can’t…you have to be more careful. I almost lost you.”
“Well, if that’s how you’re gonna show me that you’re mad-“
“I’m serious.” He turns your face towards him, and his eyes are soft. Vulnerable. The fire and fury from before is gone. “I almost lost you tonight. You almost…” his breath stutters a little, “I can’t lose you. Don’t you get that?”
His thumb smooths over your cheek, like he’s savoring the feeling of your skin, and you can’t blame your exhaustion for the way your heart melts.
“Okay.” You turn your face, kiss the skin of his palm. “Okay, I’m sorry.”
He nods, and leans down to kiss you, slow and sweet and soft.
And as he gathers you into his arms, lips barely leaving your skin for more than a second as he shifts to wiggle you both beneath the covers, you completely forget that you were ever upset with him in the first place. Something about him being overprotective. Or bossy. Or both.
You’ll try to remember that you’re mad in the morning. Or not. Or you’ll just hold him, and remind him how much you love him in the dim light of his bedroom, and wait until you can feel your legs again.
Steve Harrington, the love of your life, drives you absolutely fucking crazy.
Vice-captain!Hoshina who pretended disinterest while reviewing the new recruits’ paperwork. Occasionally letting out a quiet huff, or muttering comments to himself under his breath, yet always maintaining a perfectly calm façade in front of those of equal or higher rank.
Vice-captain!Hoshina who, upon coming across your documents, went unnaturally still. And that was unusual, because the vice-captain was usually anything but. But in that moment, upon seeing your photograph, your eyes, a familiar pain twisted his heart once more. A pain he had sworn to himself he would never feel again.
Vice-captain!Hoshina who lied when asked whether he was alright, because his face had gone far too pale and a sheen of cold sweat had begun to form. Because how could he admit that he had seen a ghost from his past —one he had promised himself he had buried long ago— come back to life?
Vice-captain!Hoshina who, as the examinations went on, observed everything with an almost inhuman, or rather… excessive, precision. Because no matter how much he refused to admit it, he wasn’t afraid that you might fail the tests. He was afraid of the opposite.
Vice-captain!Hoshina who, upon seeing you achieve the highest scores, began to dread the inevitable encounter that would follow. And the fact that, sooner or later, they would meet. The fact that, sooner or later, you would recognise him too.
Vice-captain!Hoshina who grew increasingly paranoid, knowing he would have to speak to and interact with the new recruits... and, by consequence, with you. And as the days passed, he found himself growing more and more unsettled. So much so that even Captain Ashiro felt compelled to ask him what was wrong.
Vice-captain!Hoshina who, utterly exhausted after training late into the night, didn’t realise he had collided with someone in the corridor until he heard your soft “ouch.” And when he turned to apologise, he froze completely. Because how does one apologise when the love of your childhood is standing right in front of you, in pyjamas, half-asleep, and looking like an angel on earth?
Vice-captain!Hoshina who found his words failing him, nothing leaving his lips but a broken breath, while the only thing leaving yours was a yawn. But when you lifted your gaze and apologised first, sleep vanished from your body the moment you realised it was… him.
Vice-captain!Hoshina who knew there was no turning back.
Vice-captain!Hoshina who knew he could no longer keep running from his past.
Vice-captain!Hoshina who wanted to atone for everything that had happened.
Vice-captain!Hoshina who had no idea where to begin.
🏁 pit stop ! 𖦹 throughout the years your relationship with katsuki has blossomed into something precious. you've gone from liking him from afar to being everything he's ever loved, wanted and needed. (7K)
🏁 safety car ! ⋆ not safe for work ⋆ smut ⋆ eighteen plus only. pro hero au, canon compliant, friends to lovers, established relationships, mentions of alcohol and getting drunk, katsuki driving w one hand yum, failed break up, injury, hurt-comfort, angst, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, clothed sex, dry humping, breeding kink, cum play, the heels stay on during sex btw. pro hero bakugou, pro hero & fem reader.
🏁 team radio ! ⋆ woo hooo !! since mha has come to an end ( i feel so freaking sick dawg ) i thought it would be cute to write about bakugou's first relationship through the years. ily kacchan !!! hope u guys like! click for more.
your back hits the wall before the words can really register in your mind. the force isn’t hard, a gesture clearly not meant to harm you — somewhat panicked as it comes. even still, a gasp of surprise slips from between your lips at the feeling of the concrete against your spine and your eyes dart around in search of the source.
“god, bakugou!” you breathe as though the air in your lungs has been stolen and brace a hand against your chest in hopes of slowing the heartbeat that races there.
you’d been on the way to the supply closet as per the request of aizawa — something about needing more textbooks to study for final exams. you had no idea that someone would follow, no idea that katsuki would corner you on the way there.
“katsuki, you’ve always called me katsuki,” he sneers in an attempt to correct you — it’s said without malice, but the edge of his voice softens and lowers at the sight of your uneasy expression. the one that twitches on the curves and slopes of your features. “s-sorry, it’s just… i gotta ask. is it true? what round cheeks ‘n raccoon eyes said?” bakugou turns quiet then and something charges the static air. since he’s got his palm against and just above your shoulder, he’s close enough for you to catch every detail of his face. the curve of his plush lips into a frown caused by doubt and the manner in which his ruby armoured gaze hits the floor like it’s suddenly more interesting than you.
“that you…that you like me?”
you’ve never known bakugou to be so… quiet. careful with his words as though he’s had to plot them out before he speaks. his loudness is what drew your eyes to him that first day you became classmates, and it’s what kept your eyes on him for the three years that followed.
his presence in your life was so unmistakably big, with every phrase and gesture and movement — katsuki had been there. he was a constant even when his heart stopped beating before your very eyes.
so yes, of course it was true. of course you had feelings for him.
in that small clock tick of realisation, something stings at your heart, you can tell that even he doesn’t believe it — as though the thought of you liking him is too hard to believe. your uniform constrains your breathing. tie tight around your neck and blouse buttoned all the way up — trapping the calcium cage of your chest behind crisp cotton. before you know it, you’re nodding… eyes still wide to match that of a deer in headlights.
“y-yes.” whatever confidence you have left, even if just a mere shred, you gather it up between your fingers that bunch up the hem of your greenish school skirt and then set the truth free. “i’m surprised you didn’t notice before, i wanted to get closer to you back in the first year. even if you were a little mean.”
there’s no point in lying, katsuki had caught your confession from someone and with mina involved — it obviously spread like a pathogenic germ throughout class 1-A until inevitably reaching him. you don’t miss the way the blonde winces, flinching away from the blunt point in your words. disappointment yanks his eyebrows to the centre of his forehead and you watch, frightened, as katsuki tries to pull away from you. arm retreating to his side stiffly.
this school taught you to move without thinking, however, and you quickly grab at his wrist. the pads of your fingers sink into the sleeve of his grey blazer.
you swallow, thick, and speak slowly. “although… that has changed, you’ve changed. i know that you’ve always cared, you’re gentler now and when it counts. i.. saw it then and i see it now.” the words tumble out before you can stop them, blistering hot on your tongue from the honesty. your body temperature spikes, heated with embarrassment but you don’t stop — not when your heart lies open on the table for katsuki to hold inspect. “i do like you but… i never planned to tell you how i felt because i didn’t and still don’t want to get in the way.”
“but why?” the blonde asks.
“because we’re graduating soon? because we lived through a war and you died and even afterwards, when everything was over it never felt like the right time.” you confess, flustered and almost a little defensive — the grip on your skirt tightens to the point where the fabric creases.
it’s been three years since you first noticed katsuki bakugou, three years since you realised how much your heart desired him and now, you’re eighteen and a handful of weeks away from achieving what might be your greatest dream without him..
silence sweeps beneath every word left unsaid, the only sound coming from classes down the hall where students chatter about their aspirations or plans for graduation. yet here you are, stuck in a moment of ‘will they won’t they’ with katsuki bakugou himself. “what if… what if i felt the same? would you have told me then. if you knew that i liked you too?” he asks, a tinge of hope burning at the fraying edges of his question.
“yes? i think so…” you nod meekly as your breathing grows shallow and nervous.
“i like you.” bakugou takes a step forward, an invisible force pushing you further into the wall. where you cling onto his wrist, the blonde uses that same grip to intertwine your hands. his cheeks flare a red to rival sincere eyes, his palms sweaty to the touch like he might set of sparks from how fucking scared he is.
you don’t move, you don’t break away, you just let him speak as if he’s the last man on earth with something to say. “i like you a lot and you’d never get in my way. i don’t want graduation to be the last time i see you or the last chance i get to tell you this.” he says earnestly, eager to make you see the feelings he too has tried to hide. “you’re not…just some extra i’m going to forget after school ends. you’re someone i… someone i care about and someone i want to be with… ‘cause that’s how these things work, right?”
bakugou looks down at your intertwined hands, noting the way you don’t pull away even if you could. you’re not scared of what he can do or what he’s done. you accept it.
“i guess ‘m just tryna ask you out,” he adds shyly and rubs the back his neck with his free hand as his blush spreads down to it. “if you’ll have me.”
you don’t let a beat of silence pass without throwing your arms around his neck — overcome with affection and adrenaline.
“you’re so stupid katsuki bakugou.” tucking your face into his warm neck, you attempt to hide the excitement that curls around your shyness. “my answer is yes, i’ll go out with you. i waited three years for you to notice. of course i’ll have you.”
for a moment, katsuki hesitates. his arms stay hovering above your back and your waist, he even stops breathing for a moment… but then he realises this is exactly what he wanted. he couldn’t let you go without knowing if it was true, if you liked him the way he had secretly grown to like you.
“i promise i’ll be good to you.” he swears like an oath when you finally break apart — bashfully holding out his pinky.
“i’ll take good care of you too, katsuki,” you link it with your own, grin so wide that it spreads to katsuki like it's contagious. “so… does that make us boyfriend and girlfriend now?”
he mumbles so shyly you almost forget its great explosion murder god that you’re talking to. “we’re whatever you wanna be. as long as you’re by my side.”
“oh, then, i’m so telling the rest of class 1-A that you’re my boyfriend!”
“hah? why would you do that? it’s none of their damn business!” he groans, but it’s playful and there’s a smile. you know that he secretly doesn’t mind because his weary little heart sings, no longer in pain — happy to be yours at last.
the two of you return to the classroom and much to the excitement of your classmates — you’re hand in hand with blissful smiles that only last a little while.
only because it’s not long before aizawa starts yelling about the missing text books neither of you thought to bring back.
“you love me?”
the question comes out as half a rasp and half a giggle. katsuki’s tired eyes flit over to the figure strapped securely into the passenger seat of his car — he’s up way too late and past his bed time, after a gruelling week of patrols and press conferences, all he’d looked forward to was a day off and a quiet house where his girlfriend would be out partying with her girlfriends.
but someone calls the blonde, frantic, a little past three am. he answers with his usual gruff voice. a sleep ‘the fuck do you want’ murmured on the edge of cursing the caller out because even lord knows that dynamight needs his beauty sleep… but then he hears you — whimpering on the end of the line about how your shoes hurt and how cold it is and then someone else’s voice comes into play. he’s sure it’s round-face at this point.
‘she’s had too many shots and started crying about how much she misses you. she refuses to come home with one of us, so can you pick her up?’
now, katsuki’s never moved so fast — because even though he enjoys his down time, there’s nothing he loves more than being alone… with you. in fatigued haze he throws on a hoodie along with red-riot crocks he’d rather be caught dead in and races over to the scene. he doesn’t need to ask what club you’re at, you’d inswiping you from the arms of old classmates with a thankful look before helping you onto the porsche he’s had since first going pro.
a car you’d helped him to pick out, squealing over it at the dealership and purring something involving him in the backseat whilst he paid it off.
the fond memories take up space in the car as bakugou drives you both back home, one hand on the wheel with a sweet sleepy smile slotting perfectly on his lips — your feet stretched over the console to rest in his lap ( your heels lost somewhere under the front seat ) as you drunkenly profess your love for him beneath glittering street lights.
“i do, love you s’much!” comes your giggly hiccup, all sickly sweet and bubble-gum like. Katsuki feels his heart stop in chest because even the way you sound, drunk and airy, he knows that he’s missed you. can’t stand the silence when you’re away for too long. you fill the space and quiet when the doubts in his head get too loud — he loves you here, loves you when your mind is a little too far away. you’re everything to him. “you’re jus’ sooooo hot ‘n picked me up from th’stinky club! so sexy! like my prince!”
with his free hand, katsuki rubs gentle circles into the joint at your ankle — the car ticks as he indicates to love into the next lane. he drives smoothly, easily, with only one hand. “just a hot guy, huh? not your boyfriend? not anyone special?”
he jokes because he knows you won’t remember in the morning when your head kills.
“uh-no! my boyfriend’s name is kat-su-ki!” frowning and huffing tipsily in your place, hair a little out of place and skin hot to the touch — you babble on without realising. more for the memory book, more stories to tell when you finally come to. “ohmygooooood don’ tell katsuki i think you’re pretty. he’ll get superduper jealous ‘n pouty. soooo cute when he’s like that but he loves me so much! he gives me apple juice instead of orange when i’m hungover. my little kacchan.”
even when you’re not all here, away with the fairies and high on life from a beautiful night with your friends — he knows your heart will come back to him. you think of katsuki even when he isn’t there, miss him when he’s by your side or just at the other end of the room. right now, you remember how he cares for you like you’ve always secretly cherished the thought. it’s been years now and you still make him blush, even like this.
“i don’t think your boyfriend’s little, sweetheart.” katsuki quips, a little shy, spotting your drive way up ahead. perhaps he’ll keep this moment to himself, a reminder of how much you love him even when you’re not entirely yourself.
from the passenger’s side, you glance over at the blonde through your lashes in a way that makes his stomach twist — voice low and hot, familiar. “how would you know? you lookin’ in my boyfriend’s pants?”
bakugou parks the car in the garage after pulling up to it — turning in his seat to face you. using a knuckle he nudges the chub of your cheek, sticky with whatever you’d been chugging down with your friends. he makes a note to help you cleanse your face once you get in. “i know, sweets, because i am your boyfriend. c’mere.” he casually reaches over the console to press a lingering kiss to your forehead as if to remind you of the fact — and when he pulls back, the realisation settling into your features is obvious, pupils dilating until they’re able to form hearts. “there you are, gorgeous.”
“kacchan!” you coo cutely, keening into him. “missed you sooo much. my baby.”
after unbuckling your seatbelt, the strong pro hero hauls you from the car into his arms like a princess — your heels now hanging from his fingers like they belong there. every step is still careful, as though not to jostle you while you squeal and squirm happily — your laughter echoing throughout the halls of your shared home. decorated in your memories from high school until now.
“that’s right, your baby. let’s get you to bed, hm?”
with the kind of gentleness only lovers know, bakugou takes you through your nightly routine — accepting drunk kisses as he cleanses your face free of makeup and changes you into comfy clothes with his scent embedded into every thread. by the time he’s carried you to bed from the bathroom — your consciousness has started to fade, and your fingers curl tightly into his chest like you’re afraid to be without him.
“love you, kats.” you sigh into the earliest sighs of sleep — nuzzling into his arms tight around you.
bakugou’s smile, the one that he directs down at you, is soft and laced with all the words he can’t say — not until you’re more yourself in the morning. instead, he tucks you into bed and slips right in beside you, whispering into the shell of your ear.
“i love you most, don’t you ever forget.”
“you want to break up with me?”
one promise that the two of you made to one another, all those years ago, was to never yell at each other. never go to sleep mad at one another. no matter how shitty things may get, how much darkness your jobs may bring — you’d talk it out, stay calm, keep your voices even where you can.
fix it before everything breaks.
but right now, you can tell that katsuki is trying his hardest not to lose it. his voice wavers, cracks in the way it does when his emotions threaten to get the best of him. you see it in his body, the ticks and habits you know so well — his shoulders are tense, fists clenched, eyes wide and worried. bakugou is trying so hard to keep it all together and not scream like his heart wants him to.
you’re on opposite sides of the room, you behind the couch that you picked out together for your first shitty apartment. him by the door, his keys with the all might keychain still dangling from the keyhole in the door. it’s on purpose, the distance between you, because you know that if bakugou comes any closer you’ll shatter to pieces only he’s skilled enough to put back together.
“i just think it’s for the best right now, i can’t keep getting in your way—” you start to explain, but anything you have to say gets lost underneath the lump in your throat and the way he raises his voice.
not to yell, but to try to understand.
“that’s not a fuckin’ reason and you know, you know that’s bullshit,” katsuki tries not to snap, he really does — it’s not in anger, but as a result of the frustration building up within his veins. bubbling hot and bright. he knows shit has been tough recently, the press churning out negative stories on your quirk, making you seem weak in comparison to katsuki now that you work together. “you wanna break up fine. end it with me. tell me you hate me, scream, fuckin’ cry. but don’t you dare let it because of someone else.”
there’s been a pressure on your shoulders lately that he can’t seem to lift no matter how much he tries or chips away at it. a quiet elephant in the room that the two of you ignore while stripping hero suits and washing away dust or concrete caked to your wounds. there’s been moments at night, where you silently cry out for help — words of faith or encouragement. something to let you know that you’re a good hero. words that fail katsuki when he needs them most.
so he tries right now, his damned hardest. tries to tell you that without you he’s nothing.
“i can’t lose you for any reason other than me. that’s the only way i can let you go,” he says, adamant and tired all that once — taking a sledgehammer in hand, attempting to break down your walls. “let it be that you fell out of love with me, not because you’re listening to a damn word those extras say.”
bakugou throws out mid argument, desperate. because that’s how he’s always been — needing you to get by, wanting you to survive. things have been rough lately, maybe he doesn’t protect you from the media like he should. he’s grown to have thick skin, but he hasn’t extended it to you where he should have been. katsuki made a promise to protect you, be good to you — could he have broken that?
“i could never fall out of love with you, kats, it’s not that easy.” your eyes flit anywhere but the explosive hero’s face — ignoring the pain you’ve inflicted upon it. they land on your suitcase by the door, full of things he’d brought to you at the hospital. the latest visit being from a quirk-related accident.
the headlines scream at you from inside your head: hero or villain? dynamight’s partner dragging him down? civilians injured, dynamight’s dangerous partner to blame?
it sets the dream you had, to be a hero by his side, on fire — burning into smoke, going up in flames before your very eyes.
“then tell me why. make me understand,” katsuki sighs, not exasperated with you but with the world. “‘cause i can’t lose you, i won’t make it.”
“i’m scared,” you say and your voice shakes just like your body does. weakened with exhaustion and tears whilst showing the first signs of collapse. he’s across the room to catch you before you fall, sinking to his knees on the rug mitsuki gifted you back then — with you, cushioned in his arms. “i’m scared my quirk won’t let me keep up, that with every mission, you’ll see how useless it is. how it’ll stop you from being number one—”
“stop that.”
“i can’t, katsuki. this is… this is what’s making me feel the way i feel,” that’s when you yell, tears falling so fast that you don’t even realise you’re crying. everything hurts, to breathe or to sit here in his arms when other people deserve the same level of comfort. “i’m so scared of losing you, of dying before i get to see my future with you. i can’t protect you when i’m like this and i constantly get in the way.”
air in your lungs becomes scarce between each hiccup and you ball up your fists to push him away. except bakugou has always been forceful when it comes to loving you, he’s hard to move and hard to dismiss. you’re stuck with him no matter what you say. “you’ve always wanted to be the very best and i don’t want to put that in danger when i fall behind like everyone thinks i would,” you can’t help but cry, tears hot and wet as they seep through your boyfriend’s clothes. “i-i don’t want to make you hate me.”
“you don’t get to decide how i feel about you,” he responds, soft like a coo to bring you back down from the ledge you’re crawling to. “you don’t get to decide when i’m done lovin’ you. that’s not fair.” katsuki sees it now, someone he wants to help as much as he loves them. ever since you got back from the hospital you’ve been keeping all of this in, he’ll let you know it’s safe to get it all out. reassure you of your worth and rightful place in his life. “why would i throw away the one person who cares about me when i’m not my best? when have i ever given a fuck about what others think except for you?”
“katsuki—”
“i love you. it’ll only be you. i don’t give a fuck about what anyone else says. you’re always going to be my hero, the only one able to catch up to me.” your lover interrupts you, one arm around your waist to catch you if you fall, the other cupping your cheeks to brush away the tears you shed.
that makes you laugh all watery, gasping at the ugly blob of snot katsuki wipes away from your nose with a rough padded thumb. “aside from deku.”
“that nerd can go fuck himself and find himself a new rival,” bakugou pulls you closer and rocks backwards to sit on the floor properly — effectively dragging you into his lap. the cadence in his voice dips low, rough as though he’s been trying to hold back tears mixed with the fear of losing you. “i only want you. you’re not allowed to leave me. you promised…” blonde hair tickles the space between your neck and your shoulder from where lord dynamight tucks himself into it for safety.
“don’t be mean, my baby,” katsuki only relaxes when he’s sure you’re not going to leave. your fingers rake through the roots of his hair, scratching at his scalp because it calms you both down. you settle, you accept his love with open arms and let it fill you with life once more. “we could both be a little more like izuku… but i can’t bring myself to leave. i promised you.”
he kisses your pulse as it’s racing slows to a steady rhythm. “damn right you did, brat. don’t ever try to break up with me for shit again.”
katsuki doesn’t cry or scream or shout when you argue, but instead he pleads because living without you is like holding your breath and never letting go.
“you need me?”
bakugou asks when he feels your hand on his sleeve, perfectly manicured fingertips smoothing over the cufflinks in his shirt. there’s a look in your eye that carries a distinct heat, one that radiates from your body and spreads like wildfire to his.
it doesn’t take the hero long to notice what it is that you’re after. glancing up at him through hooded lashes, your foot dragging up his leg from underneath the table — it’s enough to set the warning bells off in his head and pull his attention away from hawks’ speech at the front of the hall. katsuki’s never cared much about the events that the hero commission throws at the end of every year. even if he’s up for an award at tonight’s show.
the two of you carefully slip away and shed your PR perfected skin, darting to a conference room down the hall. one with a lock to keep your sinful acts hidden from unsuspecting heroes and sidekicks and other prestigious guests here tonight. giggles and chuckles filter through the empty room as katsuki yanks off his sexy suit and tie, as you unclip your jewellery and fight with the zipper of your glittering ruby red gala gown. he doesn’t let you kick off your expensive red-bottom heels, however.
when your lips meet for the first time that evening ( that wasn’t for a camera ) it’s electric — sending a spark of lightning crackling across your brain and right down to your spine. your boyfriend tastes like red wine and victory — perhaps that’s what’s got you so riled up tonight, you know he’s going to win the award for best hero this year. you know what it’ll do to the blonde’s ego and what he’ll do to you as a result. are you wrong for giving him an early prize? each kiss grows sloppier than the last, lazily urgent like he’s not getting enough of you. pouring every ounce of white hot desire past the seam of your lips as his tongue slides into your mouth — running over your teeth, clashing with your own sticky pink muscle.
mouths slot against one another like they’re married, spit is swapped salacious and dangerous hands wander further up the flimsy hem of your dress before it inevitably comes off as a whole. his grip trails up the meat of your thighs and the soft curve of your hips and waist like he’s memorising it for the billionth time — remembering what it’s like to hold you like this.
each touch leaves you in shambles the further they reach, especially when his thumbs swipe over your hardened nipples, over the swell of your breasts once they’re free from your sweetheart neckline. you writhe and cry and he takes it from you — swallowing down whistle tone wines as pearly white teeth sink into your lower lip.
when he’s done ravaging your mouth he moves to your neck to place calculated smooches across its expanse. “keep it quiet, baby, we can’t get caught.” you almost hate the hypotonic timbre note of katsuki’s voice vibrating through your skin because it makes you embarrassingly wet. a wave of juices soaking through thin red fabric you know will be pocketed by the end of the night.
feather light kisses take a turn when sharp teeth come onto the scene — leaving hues of plum purple against your flesh where they’ll be most noticeable without makeup to cover it. you don’t even fight bakugou as he leaves marks, mewling out loud despite the oxygen that escapes your brain, distracted by the hand that pushes your slick thighs apart for his entertainment.
your breath hitches when you stumble into the edge of the table — both of you are more desperate and hungry now. katsuki hums against the race of your pulse just beneath your ear, pressing his fingertips against your arousal soaked panties to find your pulsating clit on instinct. that’s how the pro hero works you up to it, works himself up to it, his leaky cockhead straining against suit pants to the point where you’re fearful you’ll both cum before there’s any time to have fun.
now, katsuki has you naked on your back against the cool surface of the wooden table — smirking slow and sexy as goosebumps rise across your bare flesh like chicken skin. his now equally naked dick lies wet and heavy against your lower tummy. oozing viscous precum that smears over his scarred abs and your belly button whilst he leans over you, chest to chest.
“be my good girl, tell me where you need it.” katsuki croaks, growing desperate, acting like he’s been starved. he’s shameless with how he erotically bumps and grinds the length of his hardness against your swollen, clothed mound. he fits perfectly between your folds — just like he always has and he’ll never get enough of you, even after all these years. he’s wrecked from a little dry humping, ruined from the idea of taking you here just metres away from his peers and practically collapses on top of you.
“shit’s so fucking pretty…” he laments.
bakugou’s forehead falls to yours, slightly doused in sweat as he pouts condescendingly — leaning close to let his tongue dance messily with your own once more. you gasp into each other’s open mouths with slackened jaws, sharing avid moans that are high enough to raise the roof and your chests rise and fall rapidly in sync like you’ve just undergone hero training.
it’s only when you both pause for air that you’re able to speak and answer the blonde in a way that pleases him.
“inside.” you breath low, stomach twisting and abdomen contracting. “need your cum inside, katsuki.” you’re so pretty like this, underneath him, pretty bambi eyes wide and waiting. there’s always been something about you that leaves katsuki’s pulse a mess and swipes every breath from his lungs. he knew it back then when his heart first decided to become yours and he knows it now, years later — you’d be the death of him and he wouldn’t even mind.
“fuck, that’s my girl. always so needy for it, hah?” bakugou whines, so gone but yet so yours. his cock throbs hotly against your cotton clad slit as blood rushes through it angrily — spiralling through the pretty veins wrapped around his shaft. panties are torn in two, their silken ruby threads thrown somewhere into the room to make way for you. for your soft hand snakes its way between your bodies to guide him towards your fluttering entrance, which clenches around nothing. a droplet of milky white pearling at your hole and dribbling down between your ass cheeks.
you nod whilst the blonde draws his hips back to gather what you drool, using it as lube for his dick. you’re connected to him by milky strings from your sopping cunt and a little bit of him mixed in too — his expression turns dopey at the warm, wet feeling, nosing your cheek romantically before katsuki makes an effort to push into you. fill you up in the way that you need.
immediately, your heat envelopes his bulbous tip like a welcome home. spreading over every inch in a raunchy manner, viscous travel tides of your nectar track down along the length of him the further your boyfriend pushes into you until he shines with everything you offer. dripping onto the table below. then he shifts your position, using all that pro hero strength to nudge your n knees into your shoulders — legs folded over the wideness of his own as your heels click against his muscled back.
you feel a spasm in your legs, pinned hotly against your body now that he’s able to drop his weight against you fully. he spans across every inch of you, fills all of your senses and sends a tingle through all four of your limbs. the heaviness makes you dizzy, causing you to buck up as if you’re aiming to take more of him too quickly. katsuki’s lips move soft, sloppy against your cheeks but his movements start urgent and intentional.
one moment you’re grinding leisurely against each other, the next — the power behind his thrusts winds up before they turn animalistic. almost primal. even yet, every buck of his hips is intentional — ensuring that his tip strikes the most sensitive spot deep inside your sensitive walls. his hands slam against the table just beyond your head to steady himself, sparking from the sweat that gathers against them.
“kats,” you whimper out, though it sounds like more of a strangled sound of pleasure bubbling up in your throat. your boyfriend turns his head, licking a bead of sweat that trails down from your forehead to your jaw and hums softly. you tilt your own head to meet his line of sight, catching a glimpse of the black of his pupils that eclipses whilst it eclipses the tender carmine in his eyes. “katsuki.”
“i know, sweetheart. know just what you fuckin’ need,” he doesn’t lie, his raspy voice just honest and raw in a way that makes your heart skip, succumbing to the love that flickers like a flame between the two of you. “my girl, you take it so fuckin’ well, no matter where we are.” the praise punctuates the clap of damp skin against skin and makes you gush. slick and crude sounds echoing throughout the empty room, coasting over the moans he rips from between your lungs. “damn, baby. listen to how that pussy cries for me.”
you melt at his words, reduced to a shaky puddle on the table. a mess of hiccuped pleas and whines for mercy. or for more — you can’t even tell. every touch, every deep-hitting plunge into the syrupy walls of your core is centred around your pleasure and pushing you over the edge. katsuki barely finds the strength to pull from your selfish and darling hole but knows in his mind that he just wants you to feel good. give you exactly what you need to pacify the flames flickering inside of you.
beneath you, the table rocks and squeaks a little louder than you do — possibly giving you away to any stragglers from the show but you’re too caught up in the moment to care. your boyfriend hisses as the stem of your heel digs deliciously into his back, the type of pain that tells him to keep it up. it motivates him to take rein over your helpless body, driving his dick deeper until you’re only able to babble his name like a prayer underneath each shallow breath.
your hands take purchase in the plushness of his chest — the slither of golden and scarred skin that peeks between his halfheartedly unbuttoned shirt. “f-fuck, kats. you’re so deep. m-making me feel so good, baby,” you squeal pathetically, falling victim to the intensity in which katsuki loves up on you. so you throw your hips upwards in an attempt to match the hero’s ravishing pace — bowing into his heavy body like he’s a magnetic force pulling into him. “my god, katsuki!”
the tune of your bodies continue to fall into sync, your squelching cunt grips onto every pulsing vein on the blonde’s girth as it pushes and pulls at your gummy walls that gush fresh hot waves of wetness. his tip nudges your g-spot over and over again, focusing only on that little spot that makes you crumble underneath him like a sandcastle by the tide.
something in your mind switches off and for a moment, it turns blank. an orgasm that had been building at the core of your pelvis caused by your lover boy sneaks up on you entirely too quickly — hunts you down like a thief in the night ready to strike you down when you least expect it. except, bakugou knows your body perhaps a little better than you know yourself. he senses your high on the horizon like he’s got some kind of quirk that does it, the way your stomach tightens against his abs and your sweet moans turn into a wobbly dulcet sound.
the way your sloppy mound drips a constant stream of your essence down his length until it’s practically drowning bakugou’s balls as they slap against you — heavy and full of the cum that you so desperately need. he fucks you further along the edge like his life depends on it, pounding you while the legs of the table threaten to give out. he ravages you because he’s loved you his entire adult life and then some, you’re the only thing ( coming before his work ) worth pushing his body beyond physical limits for.
“so fuckin’ in love with you, with this pussy. ‘m the fuckin’ luckiest man alive, creamin’ on it like you own it,” katsuki groans through gritted teeth, breaking up each of his words with lunges of his hips that force you up the table — you’re prompted to grab at his ass to steady himself and keep him close. “and i just know you need to cum, so how about you give it to me? nice and messy like you always do.” the blonde’s voice stays tight, clinging to each ridge on the inside of his throat whilst he pounds your pussy to the high heavens.
he has you howling at the moon, hole locking and unlocking around the sinful curve of his dick and squeezing fat droplets precum from him — smearing opaque white against your rippling walls. he falters for only a second. your freehand reaches upwards, yanking bakugou down by a fistful of blonde hair to bring him down for a sloppy kiss. colourful curse words are licked into your molten hot mouth whilst you drool against his tongue, and dribble from your mound. in the mess of it all, he pinches at your swollen clit to drag you along.
“‘m cumming kats, f-fuck. please…please cum with me.” shock waves of serotonin and dopamine and other happy hormones shoot through you — from your sex fuzzied brain to the very tips of your toes as they curl within your heels. getting closer and closer, you kick your feet as your legs tremble where they’re slung over katsuki’s shoulders. the feeling lulls a filthy whine from your boyfriend, panted and ragged.
his lashes tickle your face, broken praises and prompts coasting warmly along your cheek as the blonde switches between circling his hips to throwing his hips into at a dangerous, insistent pace. “go ahead, sweetness. ‘m right here with you,” he purrs and squeezes your swollen nub, laughing airily once your stare turns vacant. “there it is, shit. atta girl.” he rocks into you fluidly like a boat on waves, grinning all sexy like when you finally hit your high.
“oh my god! katsuki!” you cry one final time, pawing at whatever part of him you can reach to tie yourself back to sanity. you needed this, for him to break you in and unwind all the knots in your system and he was the right person to give it to you.
even though there’s a gala outside or an award with your boyfriend’s name carved into its golden plaque — he would drop anything and everything just to make you see those heavenly stars, have them dot your blurring vision.
bakugou pulls back, leaning on his palms to watch you shatter beneath him. get a glimpse of his dick slipping in and out of your creamy hole — moaning at the sight of your sexes joining in unison. the dam holding you together can no longer withstand the force of your orgasm washing over you — clear streams trickling from your ruined mound. the force of it nearly pushes his girth from your snug warmth because you just cum so hard intensely. lovingly, your boyfriend swoops down to swallow the hearty scream that rips through your chest. whether it’s just to taste you or to hide your act from anyone outside — the simple lip lock is enough to send him up to cloud nine too.
“o-oh! fuuuck, sweetheart. makin’ me cum so fucking hard.” aftershocks make you dizzy as white flashes beyond your vision and katsuki basks in the feverish twitch of your cunt — blistering hot ropes of his seed quickly flood your womb, sticking to the pleasure points of your ribbed walls. it’s potent and milky, swirling with what gushes from you freely as it smears across your swollen folds. he keeps you plugged full, cum seeping into the deepest parts of you whilst katsuki gives you exactly what you need and not a drop is wasted on anything else.
he collapses on top of you once more, but doesn’t pull out nor does he let you go. one last chaste kiss dots your forehead and katsuki eases your legs down from his shoulder so that your ankles can lock around his unfairly slender waist — heels sitting just above his taut ass.
a second passes, breathing slows and even gentler smooches are exchanged. “i love you so much,” you sitter once you’ve calmed, a bright smile glazing your face. there’s this glow about you, one that you get when you’ve been fucked within an inch of your life — it shows that you’ve been loved just as thoroughly that you need in a way that only katsuki bakugou can pull off. “you’re so good to me.”
“i promised i would be, didn’t i?” bakugou hums as he looks down at your glistening body — covered with every ounce of him. he carefully takes your hand in his and presses a kiss against your knuckles — another promise sealed into your salty skin. like a lover should, he pulls out gently and helps you redress before fixing himself up. the hero hardly bothers to wipe the seed that leaks out of you, eager to leave his claim whilst he zips you back into your dress.
his tender words are a callback to that week before graduation, when you were both teenagers and you’d just confessed to one another. the memory makes you smile bright and genuine — because your boyfriend has kept his word through every phase. through liking you, loving you, wanting you and needing you.
you’re sure he’s counting his lucky starts to have you, and in a way, you’re counting them because of him too.
“yeah,” you answer katsuki, quiet and oh so in love. “you really did.”
he kisses you like you’re made of glass, lips barely brushing yours, hands grazing your waist. never rough, never demanding, just reverent. he kisses you breathless, selfishly wanting to hear the airy little moans you let out when he starts to kiss down your neck.
“shoto.” your fingers tremble on his shoulders.
“hm?” his lips brush across your throat as you squirm under him. “what’s wrong?” he lifts up, taking in your flushed cheeks.
“want more.” you whisper.
“wasn’t planning on stopping.” he dips back to your neck.
“no i mean.. mmm.” you whine embarrassed and wrap your legs around his waist trying to pull him lower. “i want you.” you squeeze your eyes shut.
“no.” he presses a kiss to your pulse.
“what?” you squeak. “why not?” you whine.
“not taking your virginity right now.” you feel him smile against your heated skin.
“but..” your lip wobbles. “but why?”
“not rushing anything.” he kisses back up to your jaw.
“want you to make me feel good.” a pout forms on your lips.
“i can do that other ways.” you feel his fingers grazing your thigh. “you tell me if it’s too much, sweet girl.” he lifts up and searches your eyes.
“okay.” you nod, lips parting when he drags a single finger up the center of your panties. “sho!” your thighs shake.
“hm?” he watches every reaction as he continues to slide his finger up and down. “want me to stop?”
“no!” you gasp. “more!” pleasure blooms in your tummy.
he adds a second finger, adding more pressure with each stroke. your panties are soaked, giving him the perfect outline of your pussy. when he makes his way up to your clit again, he stops and circles slowly.
“shoto ‘s- nghhh ! ‘s good!” your cries flood his ears.
“yeah? just focus on the feeling. i got you.” he attaches his lips back to your neck while he coaxes more pleasure from your body.
he’s whispering the sweetest words into your heated skin, fingers rubbing just right leaving you whimpering beneath him. your panties are soaked and he’s tempted to just pull them aside but he holds off. the soft gasps from your lips and the way you’re trembling tell him you're close.
“sho.. something- mmf something’s gonna- ahhh!” you arch into him as your orgasm watches through you, soaking his fingers through your cotton panties.
“you’re so perfect, so sweet.” he leans up and takes your lips. “don’t gotta rush anything.” he slowly pulls his fingers away from your panties.
———————
k. bakugo
he kisses you like he’s starved, has you practically pinned beneath him, but he touches you like you’ll break. but his kisses? teeth, tongue, urgency, all consuming. you’re leveled under him, squirming and begging, pulling him closer.
“katsuki.” his name breathless on your tongue.
“quit your crying.” he grazes his teeth against your neck. “i’m right here.”
“please.” your fingers dig into his shoulders.
“what?” he lifts up, eyes slightly narrowed but he has a small smirk lingering in his lips.
“want you.” you whine, trying to pull him closer.
“you have me.” he chuckles.
“nooo.” you try to press yourself against him. “more!” you huff.
“you’re not ready for more.” he shakes his head.
“i want more!” you don’t care how you sound.
“shush.” he takes your lips again.
his hand slides between your thighs and you gasp into his mouth when he slides his fingers up your panties. he kisses back down to your neck, wanting to hear every noise you make as he works you over your panties.
they’re already soaking, sticking to your sweet folds. your thighs tremble around his waist, toes curling in your socks as he rubs your cute little clit. your high pitched whimpers are spilling into the urging him to move faster.
“kats!” your hips jerk when he taps your clit with his fingers.
“too much?” he chuckles, fingers only ghosting over your panties now.
“no!” you cry. “more please!!” your hips chase his hand.
he lifts up from your neck again and watches you as he starts to play with you over your panties again. your chest is heaving, cheeks flushed, eyes round and glassy. your lips are parted and puffy from the way you nibble on them.
he rubs quick circles on your sensitive clit and groans watching your brows scrunch in pleasure. you’re holding onto his shoulders like you’re about to fall, breath catching, lip wobbling. your panties are getting even wetter, soaking his fingers now as he brings you closer.
“look at me.” his gravely voice washes over you.
“kats!” you lock eyes with him. “mmnghh!” your thighs slam around his waist as your orgasms pulses through you.
“that feel good, baby?” he slows his movements, tapping your clit watching you jolt.
“so good.” you nod, leaning up and pressing your lips to his.
“we don’t have to rush anything.” he mumbles against your lips, kissing you more intensely.
his brow is scrunched in concentration as he lines his leaking tip up with your dripping pussy. he presses in only for him to pop out a second later, sending him sliding up against your puffy clit. you whine, thighs shaking, eyes round.
“shooo, think ‘s too big.” you squirm beneath him.
“just relax f’me.” he glances at your face before lining himself back up.
“i- mmf!” he presses his tip in. “sho!” your legs shake around his waist.
“doing so good.” he nods, sliding in another inch. “there you go, baby.”
he keeps inching in, bringing his thumb to your clit and rubbing little circles. drool pools at the corner of his lips looking at the bulge he creates. his tongue darts out, sliding across his lips, eyes looking up at your face.
“tell me how you’re feeling.” his voice strained as he keeps his hips still, thumb still circling lazily.
“full.” your lids heavy. “shoto ‘s big.” you squirm.
“i know, baby.” he nods. “but you’re doing so good. feel so good.” you watch his throat bob.
you slide a hand down your tummy and feel the outline of him. he can’t help the jerk of his hips at the sight, pulling a high pitched cry from your lips at the feeling.
“‘m sorry.” he pants.
“want you to move.” you blink up at him. “slow.” lashes fluttering as you feel him dragging out.
his jaw is set, sweat sticking his hair to his forehead, fingers digging into your thighs as he starts to push back in. the breath is knocked from his lungs as you suck him back in, pussy wrapping around him so tightly he feels like he’s being choked.
“baby.” his voice cracks. “gotta relax.” his head drops.
“i’m- ngh! i’m trying.” your lip wobbles. “feels like you’re splitting me open.” your thighs twitch.
his thumb slides back down to your clit and you let out a shaky exhale. he slowly starts to move, ignoring the tightening in his lower stomach at how perfect you feel. your pussy’s still squeezing around him but finally easing up to let him move.
“sho..” your toes curl, your fingers wrapping around his wrist that’s playing with your clit.
“i know, i know.” he drags his eyes up to yours.
he leans down and presses his lips to yours, tongue sliding past your lips, swallowing down all your sounds as he starts to gently rock into you.
his trusts slowly make your mind fuzzy, warm pooling low in your tummy. your arms are wrapped around his back, hands traveling up to tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck. you gasp feeling everything coming at once.
“sho ‘s- ‘m gonna ! mmf!”
he presses his forehead to yours, doing everything he can to keep his eyes open to watch you make the cutest faces as you cum around him. he can’t hold off anymore and fills you, hips stilling, pants fanning across your flushed skin.
“wanna go again.” you jerk your hips, pulling a breathy laugh from his lips.
——————
k. bakugo
he’s got your legs held up to your chest with one arm, his fingers wrapped tightly around his base as he lines himself up. you’re soaked, pussy fluttering around nothing, mocking him as your little hole pushes him out again.
“damnit, you gotta relax.” he huffs, cheeks red.
“katsss ‘m trying!” you whine. “just so big.” you push your lower lip out.
he exhales slowly and lines himself up again. he pushes his tip in, letting out a small laugh when he gets in another inch, pussy finally granting him access.
“there you go.” he pats your thigh.
“nghh! ‘s so..” your eyes squeeze shut.
“focus on this.” his rubs tight circles on your clit, sliding in another inch. “doing good.” he watches your lips part in a soft whimper.
your body feels like it’s on fire, he’s spilling you open so slowly, so thoroughly. when his hips are finally flush with yours, he rests your ankles on his shoulders and cups your face.
“still w’me?” he watches you peel your eyes open. “there you are.” he grins.
“‘m full.” you whine. “feel you in my tummy.” his composure drops for a second.
“just lemme know when i can move.” his thumb strokes your cheek and you lean into his warmth.
“now but just.. slow.” you peek up at him.
“yeah.” he nods, hands sliding from your face to rest on the mattress next to your head.
your breath gets caught in your throat at the feel of him pulling out, thighs twitching. he sinks back in, letting out a deep groan at the way your walls suck him back in. his pace is slow, almost antagonizingly so, brushing against your clit each time he bottoms out.
“kats ‘m- ! mmf ‘s s’good!! gonna- gonna !” your burst around him, orgasm catching you both off guard.
“fuck.” his fingers dig into the sheets.
you feel him twitch and start to fill you with him cum. you both are panting as you cling onto him, trembling beneath him.
a/n: i love you guys sm thank you for all the love ( ꈍ◡ꈍ)
—————
s. todoroki
your thighs are shaking on either side of his as you slowly sink down on his leaking tip. your toes curl with every inch, hands braced on his shoulders as you take him fully. he looks up at you with parted lips, hands gripped around your waist as your little pussy sucks him in.
you start off with small, desperate jerks of your hips. rutting against him like a bunny, whimpers spilling from your lips, face all scrunched up. he keeps looking between your breasts that are bouncing in his face and up to your mouth where every sweet sound is spilling out.
“sho..” one of your hands wraps around the back of his neck.
“yeah baby?” he blinks up at you with glassy eyes.
the look on his face has your tummy twisting in pleasure. you start riding him faster, juices leaking all over his legs with every wet smack of your hips against his.
“feels s’good.” you tug his hair.
he groans, leaning forward and sucking one of your perked nipples into his mouth. his tongue circles and lashes against it, hips jerking up to meet yours as you ride him faster.
he kisses messily over to your other nipple, licking against it and looking up at you. you hold him closer, pushing your chest in his face, desperate for more of his mouth.
your tummy is twisting with warmth, orgasm within reach and you know he’s with you from the throaty moans spreading across your skin. you hump against him just right and it’s instant.
“shoto!” you pull his hair, hips stilling as hot pleasure slams through you.
he keeps rutting up into you, elongating your pleasure and finding his own. he pulls back from your chest with wet lips, a low moan as he blinks up at you and fills you until you’re leaking.
—————
k. bakugo
he looks up at you with narrowed eyes. you have your hands pressed to his chest while you straddle his thighs. you lift up on shaky knees and line him up, slowly sucking every inch of him into your dripping pussy.
his fingers dig into your waist, a warning in themselves to do it right. your lip wobbles when you lift up before sinking back down with a sticky smack. he raises his brow at you when you start rolling your hips against him, little whimpers spilling out.
“said you wanted to ride me.” he chuckles. “do it right then.” he spanks you once, jolting you forward against his chest.
“kats..” you whine, humping against him, desperate for anything.
“tch, thought so.” he rolls his eyes.
he props his knees up, arms wrapping around your back as you fall to his chest and bury your head in his neck. he scoots down a little and thrusts up into you hard.
“kats!” you cry out.
“yeah, yeah.” he pants.
he’s fucking up into you mercilessly. using your little pussy just how you like, juices spilling all over his thighs, making the sounds bounce off the walls. all of your whimpers are sent directly in his ear only serving to make him fuck you faster.
one of his hands leaves your back and spanks you again, chuckling when you clamp down around him. he spanks you again and your nails dig into his back. one more spank and you’re pushed over the edge.
“fuck.” he groans, feeling your pussy pulse around him.
he fucks you faster, hips never faltering as he starts to fill you, not caring that it’s leaking out and making a mess. when he finally stops you’re limp against his chest, little pants fanning across the heated skin of his neck.
do you ever think about pro-hero dynamight being stopped on the street for an interview?
where he was under the impression it was going to consist of serious questions related to his hero career, but it’s actually some frivolous ones instead? and what’s more is that they’re actually quite invading and disrespectful of his relationship with you?
so when the question of “what is your skincare routine/what makes your skin so clear?” is flirtatiously asked (which should be obvious since the answer is related to his quirk, and the fact this sorry excuse of a reporter doesn’t even have that basic research down just adds to his irritation), he instantly replies, “i have sex with my girlfriend. a lot of sex with my girlfriend. this is a continuous after glow,” before just leaving without another word?
and when the clip goes viral, and you’re at home asking him why he said that, he just offers you a shrug? and from then on, he keeps referring to sex as “necessary maintence in accordance to his skincare regimen?”
or is that too silly…
ꉂ ᵎᵎ a/n: only formatted this because this managed to get 3k likes and become one of my top posts and made my mobile format Ugly
He barked orders during training, snapped at extras in the halls, and yelled insults like they were breathing exercises. Explosions cracked easily from his palms when he fought confident, aggressive, unstoppable.
So it was… noticeable when you spoke to him.
“Bakugou,” you said one afternoon, catching up to him outside the locker rooms. “Aizawa-sensei said you forgot your combat report.”
The effect was instant.
Bakugou froze mid-step.
Like—fully froze.
His shoulders locked, his jaw went tight, and for a solid second, his brain completely short-circuited. The hallway noise faded as his ears burned red.
“…Tch,” he muttered, way too late. “I—yeah. I know.”
He turned a little too stiffly, eyes refusing to meet yours. “I was gonna turn it in.”
“You were?” you asked gently, smiling.
Static. Literal static crackled from his palms before he yanked his hands into his pockets.
“DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT,” he snapped, voice cracking just enough to be suspicious. “I said I had it under control!”
Kirishima, standing a few lockers away, blinked. “Bro… are you okay?”
“I’M FINE!” Bakugou barked immediately, too fast, too loud. “Why wouldn’t I be fine?!”
You tilted your head. “I didn’t say you weren’t.”
Silence.
Bakugou swallowed. His ears were bright red now. He cleared his throat and tried again, lower, calmer, forced. “You can just… leave it on my desk.”
“Okay,” you said. “Thanks, Bakugou.”
You walked away.
The moment you were gone, Bakugou exhaled like he’d just survived a boss battle.
Kaminari leaned over. “Dude. You freeze every time they talk to you.”
“I DO NOT.”
“You literally stopped moving.”
“Tch—shut up.”
He waited until you turned the corner before unclenching his fists.
Iwaizumi who hates being told that his baby girls crying is them being “manipulative”
He hates it—no, absolutely despises it, because how can a baby be manipulative? It doesn’t make sense to him. And he gets fed up with the same remarks happening over and over again, when he carries one of his twin girls when she starts crying, or when he carries her twin sister in his other arm because she was about to start crying as well.
And then he hears it—a random woman who was in the same aisle as him speaks up.
“Oh they both know what they’re doing,”
Her tone isn’t necessarily malicious, but it irks Iwaizumi nonetheless. He tries to dismiss her kindly, shaking his head with a hesitant smile.
“Ah, I don’t think so.”
“I know so, trust me.” She waves her hand at him, the other hand clutching her cart. “I’ve seen this happen so many times. They cry when they can’t get their way. It’s almost like they know how to be manipulative!”
This time, Iwaizumi can’t hold back his tongue.
“They don’t know what that is.”
“They do, they do! It’s wired in them—“
“It’s not wired in them. My daughters are 5 months old and recently recovered from a cold. If they wanna be held it’s because they are babies, not because they’re evil.”
That makes her go quiet, her lips parting and closing a couple of times before she’s nodding and walking away.
You walk back from the frozen food aisle, shooting him a puzzled look cause you noticed he was talking to an old woman.
“Is everything okay? I saw you talking with that woman.”
You grab one of your daughters from him, and he nods before leaning down to kiss your forehead.
“Peachy.”
“…you only say peachy when something is off.”
Iwaizumi chuckles at this and pats your back. Because he knows if he tells you the truth, tells you that the woman called your daughters “manipulative” that you would go after her and confront her about it.
Your mama bear instinct have turned you feral when it comes to your babies, and as much as your husband admired you for that, he didn’t want to cause you any distress while you were still breastfeeding.
✧˖°. bf!kei tsukishima who pretends he’s annoyed when you insist on wearing a cute little skirts, or hair bows around the apartment, but secretly loves seeing you twirl in front of him.
✧˖°. bf!kei tsukishima who makes pancakes for you on lazy mornings, but carefully arranges them with little hearts and berries because he knows it’ll make you smile.
✧˖°. bf!kei tsukishima who raises an eyebrow every time you show up in ruffles, lace, or bows—“isn’t that a little much just for the grocery store?”—but still stands close enough that people know you’re with him.
✧˖°. bf!kei tsukishima who doesn’t get why you need three different shades of pink lip gloss, but will quietly buy you the one you ran out of, leaving it on your desk with a muttered, “you forgot this.”
✧˖°. bf!kei tsukishima who teases you when you get excited about glitter or matching accessories, but if anyone else makes a snide comment, his voice goes flat as he shuts them down in seconds.
✧˖°. bf!kei tsukishima who pretends he’s embarrassed when you cling to his arm in your frilly skirts, but always angles his body toward you so you don’t trip or bump into anyone.
✧˖°. bf!kei tsukishima who sighs whenever you ask him to take outfit pictures, but lines up the shots perfectly, handing your phone back with a quiet, “these should be fine.”
✧˖°. bf!kei tsukishima who acts like he doesn’t care when you decorate his phone case with cute stickers, but never replaces it—even months later.
✧˖°. bf!kei tsukishima who teases you about your pastel nails, calling them “impractical,” then absentmindedly holds your hand during movies and traces each color with his thumb.
✧˖°. bf!kei tsukishima who calls you “princess” in the most sarcastic voice possible… except sometimes it slips out softer, and he hopes you don’t notice.
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