hewwo! may i please have Choco!Bakugou, milk chocolate with almonds, chocolate chips, and caramel. thank you!
Your order is ready!
Prompts: kabedon, accidentally calling your crush a kinky pet name, accidentally feeling up your crush
(also, I came up with the idea of Bakugou calling his crush cum dumpster but obviously that’s uh, you know...)
‘in the rush of the crowd’ / Bakugou x Reader ♕︎
warnings: hehe pee-pee
words: 546
-
“Quit pushing!”
“Bro, move out of the way! What are you doing?! We’re gonna die if you just stand there!”
“Ow! My foot! Dammit, where are the teachers?”
Complete and utter chaos surrounds you. The hallway is crammed full of students, all of which are trying to make their desperate escape. Some sort of alarm went off during lunchtime; and, from what you’ve heard, there was someone on UA’s school grounds. The panic hanging in the air is palpable, spreads like a wild disease from student to student. Amongst the crowd, you can make out a few familiar faces, but none of them belong to the ones who are in the same class as you.
A surprised grunt escapes your throat as someone shoves into you. It’s almost like an endless game of pinball; bouncing off of other students, you quickly find yourself hitting the wall. With a low groan, you clutch at your bruised shoulder and curse under your breath. These are high school students, for crying out loud – why are they acting like this? They’re smarter than that, surely!
“Oi! Watch what you’re doing, shithead! Get your grimy hands off of me!”
Bang!
Jolting with alarm, you frantically glance at the hand neck to your head, your heart thudding anxiously. The scent of smoke and caramel fills your senses as you stare at the person pressing close – Bakugou Katsuki. Shit, someone must have shoved him into you.
“Dammit, these idiots all have left feet or some shit,” Bakugou mumbles at you. As he finally turns to you fully, his eyes widen in shock. Your name slips from his lips, his voice barely above a whisper.
Oh no.
Despite the two of you being in different classes, you – like many of the UA students – know of the infamous Bakugou, the sheer power and potential he possesses. However, your mere admiration for him surpasses many others; in fact, you may have somewhat of a crush on him, but you refuse to tell anyone. But the thing is… how does he know you?
“You alright?” Bakugou grumbles, his voice staying in that low pitch of his. Hearing him like this instead of screaming his head off does wonders for your heart and psyche. “C’mon, baby, answer me.”
Your jaw drops. Did he just call you baby?
At the same time, Bakugou’s face blanches; apparently, he realizes what he’s just said himself. And, much to your pleasure, a violent blush erupts on his face, his ears and cheeks staining a brilliant red. “Shit, shit, forget I said that,” he rambles. “Tell anybody I called you that and I will kill you.”
The crowd shifts again, the loud rumbling of voices rising even further. Again, somebody bumps into Bakugou, forcing him even closer to you. You swallow thickly as his chest collides with yours; the hand not by your head brushes against your pelvis, holding you in place.
“Bakugou,” you say, though it comes out sounding closer to a whine.
Bakugou flinches at your voice, his brow furrowing. “Shut up,” he mumbles. “Just shut your mouth.”
You feel something poke your lower tummy. Cocking your head at Bakugou, you gently grasp onto his forearm. “Um… Are you okay…?”
If possible, the blush on Bakugou’s face darkens. “Shut up, dammit!”
For the Secret Santa on the MAS chat!! @shockandlock I hope you like it!! Merry Christmas!! <3
All I Want
Bright lights twinkle, anyone would flinch on the intensity on how bright the room looked and the ceiling light or lamps weren’t even on. Yips are accompanied with a chiming of laughter from two individuals in the kitchen, the smell of baked goods wafting through the home. Marco had just come in through the door with a big box in his arms and the one of them has a smaller box with tiny holes in it. He quietly sets the big box on the coffee table before setting the smaller box to a small table that got shoved behind the Christmas tree. After it was hidden with no way to see coming in from the kitchen, he slides the large present by the tree with the other presents.
If there was one thing that Marco learned over the past few years is that his boyfriends’ loved decorating for Christmas, even more than Halloween. The first time spending Christmas together in his home, it startled him coming home from work to find tinsel wrapped around Ace and lights around Sabo’s neck like a scarf as he place them up. The whole living room was bright and even had them trailed down the hall. The bedroom had small candles, fake and some plugged in, bringing a warm glow to it. Decorations grew over time, gaining some of their own and impulsive buys, mostly on Ace’s part.
They waited until after having dinner at his family’s house to open their own presents. They only stayed to around five o’clock, max. The three of them liked cuddling up on the couch and watching Christmas movies that they did every year. The hot cocoa would run dry by tonight, though they had backups, and it could not be helped. Mistletoe hung around in every doorway to give each other excuses to provide more kisses. It always left them giggling in joy and sharing more.
“I’m back!” Marco says out, hearing clicking on the hardwood and ready’s himself to be pounced by a dalmatian. “Hey there, Stryker! You making sure they don’t burn down the house, yoi?” Barks come out sharp and tail smacks everywhere, thumping against the wall as he shows his joy. Licks get his face as Marco sees Sabo at the doorway of the kitchen.
“Mistletoe!” Ace hollers, twirling Sabo to soon plant a big one to lips, both sputtering in laughter.
“Presents after cookies are done?” Marco asks with a smile and Stryker barks to Ace with hops.
“Yes, yes! You will get your doggy cookies!” Ace cheers as the dog hops over in excitement to the man and gets picked up. A hand rubs o the spotted chest and Ace nuzzles a freckled cheek to the head of the happy dog. “Who’s a good fire dog? Who’s is a good boy?” Yips leave Stryker with wiggles and Marco shakes his head as Sabo begins rubbing against the side of the dog as well.
“Let’s get baking done!” Marco mentions, the two cheering and Stryker barking happily as they go to the kitchen.
After some sneaked cookies, accompanied with burned tongues, they got the cookies to platters to cool as they go to the living room. Stryker got some of his biscuits and happily ate them as they began dragging out presents. They are all excited and the tradition of small gifts begins. Ace bought cheesy socks for them all and a headband for Stryker, who wore it happily as he also got a new large bone for Christmas. It didn’t take long for the dog to sneak off, hitting the doorway along the way as it was rather large.
“Yes, the full season of Mentalist!” Sabo cheers, holding up a couple seasons with the rest inside.
“We are going to busy for some nights,” Marco looks towards Ace, who is grinning brightly.
“You know you love it, too!” Ace mentions as they all enjoy the show, but he receives a snort from Marco as he wouldn’t deny it.
Marco opens his box and looks over to the both as they are snickering, pineapple tissue paper is taken out with an exasperated sigh. As he got it out, he soon is surprised to see a plush blue bird. “It looks like Fennec…” He mutters as his bird looked like a small phoenix, but they lost him a few months ago. It was understandable, he was getting older and only passed because of old age.
He holds the plush, moving the box to the side and gets both hands on it. Even though it is made of only fabric, it looks handmade, and he brings it close to smell the scent of lavender. It’s the scent that helps him to soothe from any stress that may be coming along. Marco gives a deep breathe before pulling it away and smiling to his boyfriends.
“Thank you, yoi…” the words make the two grin bigger with little bounces.
“Someone handcrafted it, took some time and it was so hard to not give it to you earlier!” Sabo says and Ace gives an agreed whine as he leans to the side.
“A month! We have been holding on for a month!” He says with another whine and Stryker howls from the hallway. They all laugh at the reaction, accompanied with some barks echoing.
They continue, Ace cheering as he holds up a kit in hand. “Hell yeah! I have been wanting to trying whittling!” Hands grip the set of carving knives and waving them up and down.
“Maybe it will show you how to be patient,” Sabo remarks with a smirk and gets a balled up wrapping paper chucked at his face.
“Hush!” The remark starts a mini wrapping paper war, and Marco has to stop it when boxes go flying.
More is opened, finding a pair of slippers for each and a sweater. They got Ace a llama sweatshirt and elf looking slippers as his other ones are getting worn out. Sabo received one with a lizard on it, then some plaid slippers—blue as he loves the color. Marco got one with a dove on it, being bird related, and a pair of blue with yellow as slippers. All that was left is the large gift that Ace is aware of as him and Marco agreed on this for Sabo.
“Is that for us all? I wasn’t involved!” Sabo pouts with arms crossed and Ace is already changing his sweater to the new one he got.
“Stop whining, you will love it!” Ace says with a muffled voice before popping his head out.
“Go ahead and open it,” Marco says as he slides it over to his curious boyfriend. A sigh leaves him with small mutters of being left out as he pulls on the wrapping paper. At this point Marco stands up to push some of the paper and boxes away from the tree. “What is this? Are we getting fish?” Confusion shows as Sabo looks to the tank with some more plain boxes inside as they didn’t want them revealing anything.
“Maybe,” Ace smirks as Marco moves to behind the tree. He grabs the box and brings it out to hold it out to Sabo. Their boyfriend looks suspicious before taking it and opening it to gaze in. Shoulders tense before he jerks his head up to look at them both in shock.
“Y-You got me…?” A small squeak leaves him, small prickles of tears showing on the corners of his eyes.
The two smile as Ace inches closer, “Merry Christmas, ‘Bo!” He says with a grin and they watch as Sabo carefully puts hands into the box. As hands move up, Marco grabs the box so Sabo can hold the small creature in his hands.
“I’ve been wanting an iguana so bad.” Sabo whispers and gets the animal to one hand and begins petting it as it looks around.
“Later we will have to get a bigger tank, so it has room to grow.” Marco says as he is kneeling on the other side of the tank.
Seeing those green eyes glistening in joy at the sight of one thing he wanted so much. He always held off, a little not sure if he wanted to take the responsibility, but Ace and Marco knew he wanted one. The longing in his eyes for one never went unnoticed and they wanted to show how much he deserves one and to know he would take great care of it. The way hands pet along the reptile, it looked to be enjoying it before it scurries along his arm. Sabo gasping as it hurriedly gets to his shoulder, letting its nose near his neck before inching to rest with head forward towards Marco and Ace.
“I think he likes you,” Ace mentions while shifting to move the tank a bit.
“I hope so!” Sabo has hands tightened into fists, grinning brightly as he reaches up to pet more on his new present.
They spend the next hour getting the tank set up, Sabo realizing that they bought the shelf near the couch, pressed to the wall, for a reason now. That was over three months ago, and he about cried again at how much they planned this out for him. Once everything is set up and lamp turned on, Sabo lets the iguana nestle into its home and explore it.
Then they set out to gather cookies, hot chocolate, the three different popcorn in that large can that has Santa on it, and the biscuits for Stryker. There is already a pile of pillows and blankets on the couch that they get arranged for their movie night. On the ottoman part of the couch, they are sure to set up blankets for Stryker as Ace sits mostly there so the dalmatian curls up at his legs. The couch is all done up and Marco is in the middle to let Sabo glance to see his new pet. He knew he would want to and didn’t mind, especially as he knew Sabo would probably scoot to take a glance to it to check on it.
“Home Alone marathon!” Ace cheers as he already pulled up the movie on the television as they are renting them to watch and not have to get up unless necessary.
“Come on, why not the Grinch first?!” Sabo whines and Stryker howls, causing them all to laugh before smashing together on the couch.
“Grinch and then Home Alone, since there is only one Grinch movie.” Marco compromises that they both agree to, Ace a little reluctant. As the movie starts, Stryker is already moving to lounge along Ace’s lap with front paws on Marco’s lap, to be reached by all them, plus Sabo could reach his biscuits better.
They each could agree, this was by far one of the greatest Christmas ever.
warnings: NSFW, teacher/student relationship, oral sex, spitting, sir kink, slut shaming, somewhat brat taming, age difference, unprotected sex
words: 5,772
(a/n): Bakugou is 30 in this; reader is younger (college age)
-
Tick, tock. Tick, tock.
One, two, three, four… How long was it going to take until class ended again?
Looking up from your notebook, you stare up at the clock, the large, monotonous face seemingly glaring straight back at you. You don’t know how it happens, but time always moves so slow when it comes to your calculus class. Frankly, you’d rather ditch the class altogether, but if you wanted to graduate from college, you had to pass. Curse stupid curriculums and all that shit.
However, despite absolutely dreading having to stare at numbers for a solid hour and a half, there is a plus side to taking this dreaded class. In fact, it’s the very reason why you signed up for it in the first place. You’ve heard so many wonderful things about it, all from girls and guys alike, and you knew you had to see it up close and personal – rather, you had to see him.
Professor Bakugou.
Age thirty, drives a Land Rover, and, most importantly, single.
He’s about as dreamy as they come; a complete and utter Dreamboat Annie, absolutely huge in both height and stature, intelligent, and handsome. He’s only been a professor for a few years, but it’s been made apparent to the school that he’s worth it. Not only are his teaching methods and lectures incredible, but he’s turned out some of the highest grades your college has even seen. That itself is impress, and, combined with the hype of how hot he is, it’s no wonder people rush to take his classes.
So, when it came time for class schedules to come out, you were excited, needless to say. Despite having a general disliking to math in the first place, you figured this one guy could be what it takes to turn that idea around. Oh, but that was before you first laid your eyes on him.
Shit, you had heard that he was attractive – godly, even – but this? You weren’t expecting this. His biceps alone could crack a watermelon, and his sharp jawline could easily cut diamonds. It sounds cliché, that’s true, but you have no other way of putting it. Words did not do this man any justice.
At first, his constant yelling and crude demeanor were a total turn off. Professor Bakugou was essentially the teacher version of Gordon Ramsay, and you weren’t entirely sure if you liked that or not. However, as time continued, you actually grew accustomed to it. In fact, if he didn’t yell at least once during the class, you’d immediately figured he was having a bad day.
That’s when the thoughts began. Call it infatuation, a mindless crush, whatever, but you wanted Professor Bakugou. Your eyes soon began to watch his large hands flex while he wrote on the board rather than the content itself. You’d watch his forearms flex while he turned the page in his textbook, prominent veins inviting you for a better look. How you longed to touch him, to grab his sturdy shoulders or pull his wild hair. He always looked so good, clothes tailored to fit his muscular frame perfectly.
You’d fantasize about the most random of scenarios, each of them usually ending up with him bending you over his desk at the front of the room. You liked colder days the best, especially since Professor Bakugou had the habit of wearing form-fitting sweaters that outlined his massive pecs or the swell of his arms. You wanted to make him feel better, to sit underneath the desk and suck him off while he taught the rest of the class. Those narrow hips had to be strong, and you’d be damned if you never got to experience their power at least once.
It’s almost as if Professor Bakugou had cast a spell over all of his students. Nearly all of them gushed about how great he was; and, if you were in the proper company, they exchanged fantasies or proclamations about how fucking gorgeous he was. You’d usually grow bitter at these types of conversations. It was a crush, for fuck’s sake. There was no need to get all pouty like some problematic schoolgirl.
Still, the thoughts wouldn’t go away, not when he taught, not when he yelled. His booming voice became a part of your wicked fantasies, wondering how it’d sound to hear him grunting your name or commanding you to spread his legs for him. Again and again, you told yourself that it was fine, that people develop crushes on their teachers all the time. It was only in the dead of night that you’d have your hand stuffed down your pants and mouth moaning his name into a pillow was when you regretted it. It was a phase, nothing more.
And yet, over two months into the semester, and these thoughts still won’t go away. The constant ticking of the clock brings you back down to Earth, your eyes focusing on the problems before you. Swallowing thickly, you loosen your hand, now just noticing how hard you’ve begun to clench your pencil. Your insides feel oddly warm, that pleasant, heavy feeling sitting behind your belly button. Dammit, you mentally curse, this is not the time to be getting distracted.
Tick, tock. Tick, tock.
If only class could end sooner.
“Right,” Professor Bakugou suddenly says from his desk, “this Friday, I’m holding a study session for the upcoming exam on Monday. There’s only going to be a limited number of seats available, so if you wanna join, here’s your chance.” With his words, he holds a blank sheet of notebook paper up, a rather bored expression on his face.
He must be tired, you think, unconsciously biting your bottom lip. But why?
Around you, students shuffle to the front of the class, waiting for a chance to scribble their names onto the paper. Some seem a bit more excited than others, obviously arching their backs or flipping their hair over their shoulders. With a scoff, you look back down to your work. Did they really think they could catch his attention like that? Yeah, so he doesn’t show off a ring on his finger, but it’s pretty likely that he has people throwing themselves at him all the time. Besides, Professor Bakugou is a strict guy; there’s no way he’d engage in a relationship with a student.
You really shouldn’t be getting your hopes up. It’s pointless to pine after your teacher like that, especially with the risks that come along with getting involved with each other. Still, you can’t help but feel bitter. Professor Bakugou is a god that walks amongst men, so how could you not want somebody like him?
“Alright, that’s all for today. Class dismissed,” Professor Bakugou calls out. Dammit, you spaced out again. Maybe you should get that checked out?
With a sigh, you stuff your belongings into your backpack and draw to a stand. You wish it would be spring already; trudging through snow and ice is never fun, and the fact that your dorm is basically on the other side of campus makes it even more rough. Pulling your coat on and slinging your backpack over your shoulders, you make way towards the classroom door, completely unaware of a set of eyes watching your every move.
-
“Man, this is impossible,” your best friend, Ashido Mina, groans. “I’m going to bomb this exam for sure!” Sprawled out on her stomach, she squirms on the floor, her face scrunching with her displeasure.
You, on the other hand, sit cross-legged across from her. Notebooks and math textbooks surround the two of you, your laptop and calculator at the ready. Bags of chips and pretzels sit to the side, along with abandoned coffee cups and empty water bottles. Professor Bakugou’s exams were notorious for being hard, but at the same time, if you payed attention in class and studied, you’d succeed. The thing is, though, that neither you nor Mina are the best when it comes to math.
“I thought you went to his study session?” you ask, glancing up from your own notebook.
Flashing you a pout, Mina nervously runs a hand through her fluffy hair. “Well, yeah, but you know how it goes! A secluded area with Professor Bakugou! It’s like a dream come true! It was hard to focus when he’s leaning over your shoulder like that…”
Rolling your eyes, you puff in amusement. “Really? Mina, you know what will happen if you fail this test.”
“Yeah, yeah, but come on! You can’t blame me! You would’ve done the exact same thing!”
“I don’t think so.”
“Oh yes you would’ve!” Mina exclaims, pointing an accusing finger your way. “Don’t pretend like you don’t ogle Professor Bakugou during class! He’s one hell of a hunk, isn’t he? I never knew college professors could be so hot!” she gushes, a giggle following her words. “And that study session – oh my god, I nearly thought I was going to heart attack when he helped me solve this one problem. He’s so warm and he smells great!”
You cock an eyebrow at her. “You were smelling our teacher?”
At that, Mina blows a raspberry and waves a dismissive hand. “I’m not Kaminari, sweetheart. I have class. Besides, Professor Bakugou smells like caramel. Can you believe it? I wonder if he uses cologne or feminine soap.”
Caramel, eh? Now that’s something you can get behind.
“You want him to fuck you, right?”
Wait, what?
Narrowing your gaze at her, your brows knit closely together. “What kind of question is that?”
Mina rolls her eyes. “What, like you don’t think about it? Practically everyone on this campus has thought about it at some point or another? I mean, hello! He’s totally Daddy material. I’ve heard that he goes to the gym sometimes here on campus – turns out he’s huge.”
Huge. Of course this is what Mina chooses to focus on. You wish you had a spray bottle to squirt at her horny ass.
“And I don’t mean muscle wise,” Mina continues, a mischievous expression coming to her face. “I bet he tastes like candy.”
“Mina.”
“Why yes, Mr. Bakugou sir! I’ll gladly suck your fat cock for an A!”
“Mina.”
“His ass is really nice, too. I wouldn’t mind pegging him-“
“MINA.”
“What?”
You smack your forehead and groan as your hand trails down your face. “Are you going to study or not? I don’t know about you, but I’d rather graduate than work at McDonald’s for the rest of my life.”
Mina purses her lips at you in an excessive pout. “You’re such a fun sponge, holy shit. I think you need a good dicking down by Professor Bakugou. Maybe then you’d stop staring after him all the time during class.”
Your face heats up at her words, but there’s no way you’re owning up to that. Okay, so yeah, maybe getting fucked by him would be a dream come true, but you’re more realistic than that. “And you’re not concerned at all that he’s our teacher? You know, like he could lose his job and you could be expelled? That doesn’t bother you? At all?”
Mina shrugs. “Meh.”
“Woooow…. You really are shameless.”
“Hey, you win some, you lose some. If I could get that man to put a ring on my finger, then I’d be okay with it.”
“Yeah, because you definitely want to bring your math professor home. Uh huh, great one. Tell me how that goes.”
With a grunt, Mina rolls over and sits up. “Whatever, man. I’m hungry, so I’m going to go down to the dining hall. Wanna come with?”
Glancing at the alarm clock sitting on your nightstand, you see that it’s only 5:15. True, you could get a bite to eat, but you’d rather stay back and finish a few more problems. “I think I’ll join up with you later,” you tell Mina.
She nods her head and offers you a small smile. “Suit yourself, sweetheart. I’ll see you later.” Gathering up her things, she unceremoniously shoves them into her backpack and salutes you with a goodbye. After she pulls the door shut behind her, you turn back to the task at hand.
It shouldn’t be this hard to solve these last couple of problems, but your brain is really starting to feel the struggle. A dull ache is already forming between your eyeballs, and you truly wonder if you’re going to make it through this or not. Maybe you should take a break, or at least give your eyes a rest. Still, that little stubborn streak in you tells you to carry on. You only have a few more problems left, and you’re so close to finally finishing!
As you set to work, the digits on your alarm clock change as time drags on. Okay, so maybe you’re demanding too much of yourself. Your brain is absolutely fried, and your headache is spreading. Glancing back up at the clock, luminous green lines glare a 5:31. Jeez, it’s only been sixteen minutes since you last checked, yet it seems as though hours have passed. You really want to finish this study session, but the last problem is throwing you in for a loop.
You’ve already scoured your notes and the textbook for how to go about the problem, but your mind is drawing up with a blank. It has to be because you’re tired, right? It’s not that hard… Or is it?
“Dammit,” you mutter, sitting back and pressing your palms flat against the floor. Again, you look at the clock. Frankly, you don’t want to spend all night pouring over this, and you don’t want to skip dinner, either. You know for a fact that Mina will beat your ass for skipping out on food. “Screw it.”
Scrambling off the floor, you throw a thick coat on and slide on your sneakers. Professor Bakugou sometimes has the habit of frequenting his office during the weekends (or so you’ve heard), and you desperately need to know how to solve this problem. Chances are something similar will be on the exam, and you want to get as good of a grade as possible. Plus, if he is there…
You swallow thickly. Now is not the time to let Mina’s previous words get to you.
And so, with your notebook tucked underneath an arm, you take off.
It’s a damned shame that his office is practically on the other side of campus, but you figure it wouldn’t be too bad to get your body moving after spending so much time hunched over. Now that you think about, you could just email him, but you’re not sure how quick he’d respond. This is a dire moment. Okay, maybe not, but still. Maybe you want to see Professor Bakugou. Maybe.
You’re thankful when you finally enter the building, free of the flurries of snow and the seeping chill. Stomping your feet free from snow, you look around, creeped out yet fascinated by the silent, empty halls. You doubt very many people are here besides lingering staff and the janitors. One could only hope that Professor Bakugou is frequenting his office.
As you draw closer and closer to his office, your footsteps bounce off the walls, reminding you of how alone you are. There’s a fifty/fifty chance that he’s even going to be in his office, yet your heart pounds frantically in your chest. If he isn’t there, you’ll just simply turn around and stalk back to your dorm and hope for the best. If he is there, well, you’re not entirely sure what you should say.
He’s your teacher, dammit. It shouldn’t be this hard going up to him and asking him for help. It’s literally his job to help students out; nothing more, nothing less. Still, Mina’s words ring throughout your mind. It’s just a crush, you remind yourself. Stop getting so worked up about it.
There it is, just straight up ahead – Professor Bakugou’s office.
Like the other offices lining the hall, it’s made from a heavy wood, a frosted window place in the top half with Professor Bakugou’s name printed on it. A simple door like this shouldn’t intimidate you so much, but yet it does. All you have to do is knock on it, wait for a possible response, and then go from there. However, now that you’re in front of it, you somewhat hope he’s not there. Your palms are growing clammy and your throat feels fuzzy.
“Here goes nothing,” you tell yourself, reaching up and rapping on the door.
For a moment, nothing happens. Perhaps Lady Luck has decided to spare some mercy on you, after all. Releasing a pent-up breath you didn’t know you were even holding, you prepare to step back and walk away, but then a muffled come in sounds through the door.
Oh, shit.
You wince as your cowardice floods you with a renewed force. There’s no way you can just leave now, not if you want Professor Bakugou potentially chasing you down. Taking in a deep breath, you turn the brass knob and poke your head inside. “Uh, Professor Bakugou?”
Oh, shit.
There he is, sitting behind an oak desk, hunched down over a stack of papers. He holds up a single finger, a signal for you to give him a moment. Immediately, your eyes skim over his exposed forearms, skim over the tight black turtleneck that fits him like a glove. Rolled sleeves, watch on wrist, and a pair of glasses perched on his nose, he’s just dripping with classy sexiness.
The steady tick tock, tick tock fills the otherwise silent room. It grates on your already wired nerves, mocks you for just standing there, waiting. You can’t help but glance at its face – 5:49. It’s already dark out, winter’s everlasting darkness sapping the Earth’s light. Stepping fully inside the room, you gently shut the door behind you, not wanting to interrupt his train of thought.
After another moment or so, he finally clicks his pen closed, tosses it onto the desk, and leans back in his chair. “Oi – what do you want?”
Removing your notebook from underneath your arm, you hold it out for him to take. “I was… I was wondering if you could explain how to work out this problem?”
Quirking an eyebrow, Professor Bakugou sits upright and glances at what you’ve written. “We discussed this during the study session on Friday.” His eyes dart up to yours. “I’m surprised you weren’t there.”
Is he singling you out right now? It feels like he’s singling you out right now. But wait, doesn’t that also mean that he noticed you not being there? He’s just saying that to say it, right? …Right?
“There was a lot on my mind,” you say softly.
Professor Bakugou sighs. “Alright, come here.” Maybe it’s the gruffness of his voice, but the simple command nearly has you whimpering on the spot. Jesus, you need to get your act together!
“Of course, sir,” you reply, the title subconsciously rolling off your tongue. Skirting around the desk, you come to his side, unaware of him shifting in his seat.
“It’s really not that hard if you put your damned brain to use,” he grunts, picking his pen back up. You notice how the tendons in his hand flex with the subtle movement; actually, now that you’re up close in personal, you can clearly see the veins racing up his forearms, the sheen of blond hairs.
Warmth seems to radiate off of him, just like how Mina said. You wonder if he gets hot easily, or if that’s just the way he is. Either way, you shimmy the slightest bit closer to him, eager to ward off the chill that still clings to you from the outside. He goes into great detail about how to go through each step surrounding the problem; you lean over his shoulder as he goes through the steps, the heat emanating from his skin drawing you in more and more. With each breath, the scent of caramel floods your senses. You’re almost half tempted to press your nose to his nape and get a better smell, but that’d just be creepy. Plus, even if you did that, Professor Bakugou could probably pick you up and literally throw you out of his office.
Still, despite knowing the risk, your mind takes off, just like it usually does whenever you’re in his presence. It would just be so easy to squeeze his thick arms, to run your fingers through his thick blonde hair. Maybe you could push the collar of his turtleneck down, expose his neck and bite the pulse. It’s almost ridiculous just how big he is, how easily he could overpower you. A familiar warmth floods your system, encasing your insides and clutching onto your heart. This is bad – very, very bad.
“Oi, what the hell are you staring at?” Professor Bakugou barks.
Snapping yourself back to attention, you notice him staring at you, his glasses now off his handsome face. If possible, he’s even more attractive up close; thick lashes, full lips, a slight gleam in his eyes that demand power and control. He almost looks entirely different like this, face lax instead of fixed with a scowl. Good lord, you really are whipped for him.
“Oh, um, sorry,” you ramble, eyes going wide. “It’s just that your hair looks really… fluffy…?”
“…Hah?”
You quickly avert your eyes. “Nevermind…”
“You know,” Professor Bakugou starts, voice low, “you stare at me a lot during class, too. You’re not very subtle.”
You wince at his words. “I… I’m not sure what you’re talking about-“
Rolling his eyes, he scoffs and tosses down his pen. “You’re not majoring in theatre, are you? Because you suck at acting.” He flashes you a cocky smirk when you look back to him. “Just admit it – you like what you see, don’t ya? Can’t say I blame you.”
Okay, wow, cocky much. Yeah, sure, he’s an absolute babe, but wouldn’t you think he’d be a bit more… modest?
Now it’s your turn to scoff. “Didn’t know my math professor thought so highly of himself.”
“Tch. Looks like you got a damn mouth on you, after all. Well, if you’re done undressing me with your eyes, do you want to learn how to do this problem or not? I don’t like repeating myself, but I’ll let it slide just this once since I like you.”
Wait, wait, hold up. Did he just say he likes you?
“You’re a good student,” Professor Bakugou continues. “Even if you do focus on me more than my lecture.”
Is this how the conversation was supposed to play out? Because damn you’re nearly shaking, and you still have your coat on. He knows too much, dammit. He’s known this entire time and he’s playing you.
“And yet you could’ve easily told me to stop,” you shoot right back, sick of being prosecuted like this. Sure, it might be a bad idea to pick a fight with a teacher, but this is outside of classroom hours; and, frankly, he can kiss your ass. Crude demeanor or not, you’re not about to let this man push you around.
“Who said I wanted you to stop?”
No. There’s no way he just said that. This big-headed narcissist is relishing in this, isn’t he? Bastard.
“Hate to break it to you, Professor, but almost everyone stares at you like that,” you tell him. You realize you just admitted it to the accusation, but there’s no point in defending it anymore.
“Like I give a shit about the others? Really? You’re gonna talk about them?” He scoffs his amusement and leans back in his chair, thick arms crossing over his chest. “Did you come here to ask me questions about the exam or did you just want to be with me all by yourself?”
You hesitate. Is that really the reason you came here tonight? The whole way here you debated this yourself, Mina’s words circling around your head. No, you’re smarter than this. It’s a bad idea to get involved with a teacher – it’s wrong.
“I’m not going to lie or deny the truth,” Professor Bakugou continues, his voice dropping to an uncharacteristically low pitch. “I’m also not stupid. You’re just as scared as me, aren’t you? Of the repercussions.”
Your mouth falls agape. What is he going on about…?
Slowly, Professor Bakugou sits back up, his face getting dangerously close to yours. Hot breath fans over the bottom half of your face. His eyes are heavily lidded, his lashes kissing his cheeks. “I’m not going to force anything on you,” he murmurs. “Tell me to stop and I will.”
Oh my god.
Unable to resist the close proximity anymore, you shoot forward, your hands landing on the arms of the chair; Professor Bakugou’s lips are softer than you anticipated, but in no way is he gentle. Right away he’s clutching the back of your neck, dragging you forward so you’re settled on his lap. The arms of the chair pinch into your thighs at the tight fit, but you could care less. You’re on Professor Bakugou’s lap, you have his tongue in your mouth, his hands landing on your ass and kneading the flesh.
“Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do this forever,” he growls, his hands slipping under your shirt and gliding over your lower back. You arch into his touch, a breathless moan slipping past your lips.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you pant.
“I know.”
Fuck, it’s all so good, his tongue licking the inside of your mouth and hands unbuttoning your jeans. A startled noise erupts from your throat as a large hand slides into the front of your pants, cupping your crotch. You buck into his touch, all sense dissipating from your thoughts as you fervently grind into his heated palm. There’s a clutter of paper and office supplies as they hit the floor. Before you know it, you’re rising from the chair, your ass landing on the wooden desk instead.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking hot,” Professor Bakugou grits. Your ass is barely on the desk by the time he’s done dragging you forward, your jeans aggressively getting yanked off, your underwear following suit. Your thighs instinctively snap shut at the cold air making contact with your bared skin, but strong hands pry them apart, fingertips kneading into the flesh. “I wanna make you cum with my tongue.”
“Wai- Ah! Fuck!” you cry out, your fingers clutching onto the edge of the desk as his head ducks down, his mouth latching onto your sex. Until now, you weren’t even aware that you were dripping with arousal. Sinful noises spill from between your legs as Professor Bakugou fucks you with his mouth, his lips wrapping around your most sensitive parts.
“God, you’re such a slut.”
Smack.
You cry out as he brings a hand down on the innermost part of your thigh; your nerves quake, your blood pumps wildly through your veins. Again, he slaps your thigh, a growl tearing itself from his chest as he looks up, his eyes catching yours.
“Say it.”
Smack.
“I – I’m a slut,” you babble, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth.
Smack.
“What was that?”
“I said I’m a slut!” you exclaim, voice cracking.
“I expect you to refer to me properly,” he says darkly, his pupils dilating to the point where you could barely see his irises. “Got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
A single smirk is thrown your way before his mouth is back on you, his tongue lapping up your arousal. His moves are quick, sensual. It’s clear he’s experienced, and you don’t blame him. Just look at him for Christ’s sake. The man is basically sex on legs, all nicely wrapped up in a turtleneck sweater and a simple pair of slacks. The pleasure only heightens as his fingers come into play, prodding at your hole; the tips just barely push past the muscle, leaving you moaning even louder and clutching harder on the desk. Your fingernails scratch the surface, the lacquer coming off.
“Tasty little brat, aren’t ya?” he drawls. Your entire body jolts as he spits on your sex. “I could get used to doing this.”
“Please, sir,” you plead, desperation filling your voice. You want his mouth back on you. You want to cum. “Please, it feels so good…”
Professor Bakugou clicks his tongue. “Shit, you’re even obedient. How nice.” He redoubles his efforts, then, wet noises filling the room along with your heavy breathing.
“Shit, shit, oh my god,” you babble, your body tensing. Still, his tongue digs in just right and there goes your sanity, flying out the window as you cum.
A deep chuckle fills your ears as Professor Bakugou sucks it down; drawing away, he flashes you his tongue, your arousal coating his tongue before he makes a show of swallowing the last bit of it. Wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand, he draws to a stand. The tent in his slacks is obvious, the front of it darker than the rest. Your insides squeeze around nothing, the idea of making him get like that making you feel hotter than before.
You’re hypnotized as he pulls his hands away. His movements are slow and methodical, the clink of his belt echoing throughout the room. Swallowing thickly, you bite your lip as he leisurely undoes his belt and slacks. Blood rushes through your ears, your mind a complete mess. You feel dizzy with want, with the need to sink your teeth into the swell of his pectoral, to claw the plains of his back.
All the air is sucked from your lungs when he finally pulls his cock out, the head flushed a deep red. Your eyes trail over the prominent veins, the fat bead of precum pushing its way out the tip. Fuck, he’s huge, both in length and girth. Whoever told Mina that he was big wasn’t lying. Your legs subconsciously spread even wider, a silent plead for him to fill you up and fuck you raw.
“Tell me you want this,” he husks. He does the honor of unzipping your coat and slipping it off your shoulders before easing you onto your back. The cold from the wood permeates through your shirt, brings a new wave of goosebumps to your flesh.
“Only if you tell me the same thing,” you croak. “Do you fuck all of your students who walk in through that door?”
“No,” Professor Bakugou blatantly says, and you can tell he’s being earnest. “It’s wrong of me to think so, but I’ve been wanting to do something with you since I saw you. It sounds like some sappy bullshit, but it’s the truth. I was too much of a pussy to ask you out for a coffee.”
Something about hearing him confess his feelings to you sets your heart alight. A slight smile tugs at your lips. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
“Tch. And you’re a fucking brat.”
Hunching over you, a large hand plants itself by your head while the other guides his cock to your awaiting hole. A shaky breath passes through your mouth as he pushes himself in; the stretch burns, his thick cock filling you up in a way that you didn’t even know was possible.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he breathes. “Look at you, sucking in my cock like that. What a good little slut. I bet you’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you? I bet you touched yourself while thinking about this very moment, about me fucking you on my desk like this.” A surprised squeak bursts from your throat as he grabs your legs and throws him over his shoulders, effectively bending you in half. “Gotta fuck you nice and deep, right? Because that’s how a slut like you likes it.”
Like this, with your knees almost touching your ears, the tip of his cock hits your soft spot. A pathetic whimper comes from you as he grinds his cock into you, his eyes carefully watching your erotic expressions, figuring out what you like best.
Before long, he’s fucking into with vigor, his hips moving restlessly. His cock pounds into you mercilessly, the slap of skin against skin mixing with your cries. His mouth is at your throat, teeth skimming your jugular before he latches onto your thundering pulse. You helplessly claw at his shoulders, your fingers bunching into the fabric of his shirt. You’re so fucking full, your velvety walls clamping around his cock selfishly. A blend of curses and yes, fuck, you fucking slut fill your ears; he’s panting hard, a slight chuckle breaking through every once in a while.
“Fucking let everyone know who’s fucking you this good,” he grits. “Jesus, look at the mess you’re making…”
“Professor Bakugou!” you whine. “Your cock feels so good… Fuck, fuck, oh my god, yes-“
“Katsuki. My name is Katsuki.”
Katuski.
The name rolls around your brain like a loose bolt. It settles on the tip of your tongue, just waiting to be let out.
It’s when you cum that you shout his name, your walls tightening around him harshly while your nails dig into the meat of his shoulders. A load groan rumbles from the depths of his chest as he follows suit shortly after, his hips moving erratically as his cum splashes against your insides.
The both of you are sweating, panting messes by the time he finally pulls out. You whimper as you clench around nothing, the emptiness a bit too much to bear. Surprisingly, Professor Bakugou – no, Katsuki – is gentle as he cleans you up, his free hand rubbing your side. Swallowing your pride, you clear your throat.
His eyes flick up, land on yours. “What.”
“Do you…” You worry your bottom lip. “Do you want to get coffee sometime?”
Katsuki snorts. “Wow, got a real fucking charmer here, don’t I? How about you come to my place instead and I make you a proper dinner. You didn’t eat yet, did you?”
As if on cue, your stomach growls. Well, you did deny Mina’s offer for dinner, after all. You smile nervously and give him a shrug.
Chest swelling (with pride, you assume), Katsuki flashes you a cocky smile. “I’m a damn good cook, brat. I’ll cook a meal that will have you weak in the knees.”
“Maybe… Maybe you could finally show me how to do that problem?” you offer.
He rolls his eyes. “Will you finally pay attention this time or will I have to pound it into your brain?”
uwu, I had the lovely @weirddpand4 draw this picture of cowboy Hawks for this work!!!
warnings: NSFW, spanking, cream pie
words: 4,802
-
“Oh, wow! Look at that! I’ve never seen grass so green before!” your friend, Urakaka Ochaco, exclaims.
Glancing up from your phone, you follow her line of vision; gracious hills of rich green grass stretch out far into the horizon, meeting with the brilliant shade of blue. It’s so unlike the skyscrapers and closely-knit houses you’re used to seeing. No, this is what pure beauty looks like, Mother Nature in one of her most wonderful forms. Although the fields are dotted with wildflowers and corn fields, you don’t miss the dirt road further up ahead, a large wooden sign planted next to it.
When Ochaco originally came to you with the idea of being a farmhand, you thought she was crazy. You’ve finally graduated from high school, got the title of professional hero, and this is the first thing she wanted to do? However, as she further explained, it was a family friend who needed help during the summer months, and what were heroes for? Granted, you wanted to run around the cement jungle and provide help that way, but this “almost vacation” didn’t sound too bad – plus, with the puppy eyes Ochaco flashed at you, it was impossible to say no.
And so, here you are, sitting in the passenger side of a coupe with Ochaco behind the wheel. You have to admit; the surrounding atmosphere is beautiful, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to run barefoot through the grass. Clouds of dust rise as the car eventually comes to a stop outside of a weathered farmhouse. Ochako flashes you a smile, her large eyes twinkling.
“Look at how huge this place is! I know Uncle Iroh said he had a couple people helping out, but this is incredible! We’ll each have our own room!”
You can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. Ochaco’s always been easy to rile up, and the fact that she’s genuinely excited to spend quality “bonding time” with you is heartwarming. As the two of you step out of the car, the front door to the farmhouse opens, revealing an elderly man with a long beard and a kind expression. His face cracks into a smile when he and Ochaco make eye contact; the two hurry towards each other, warm greetings and bone-crushing hugs being shared between the two. It’s no wonder Ochaco was so excited to spend the summer here; with a relationship like that, you’d be happy to see the man too.
“Oh, come, come!” Iroh says, hurrying around the car and popping the trunk open. “You must be Ochaco’s friend, yes?” he asks, looking towards you. A wave of pleasant warmth washes over your being as he sends you that charming smile. “I appreciate the help! I only have my nephew and another man working here already, but the extra hands will come in handy.” He pauses then to chuckle at his own joke. “But I think it’s about you two get settled, yeah?”
“Right!” you respond, pulling out your own suitcase.
As you walk up towards the wraparound porch, you glance to the other trucks sitting out in front of the farmhouse. Iroh said two others were already here, so you figured the trucks must be theirs…
“Zuko!” Iroh booms. “Our guests are here!”
After a moment or so, a boy around your age staggers from the kitchen, a tray in his hands. From the looks of it, a teapot and some cups line its surface.
“Tea is our specialty, here,” Iroh says, nudging you with your shoulder. “Get something to drink and then we’ll show you your rooms.”
-
Later on that evening, you’re gazing out your window, watching the sun fall. Hues of orange, peach, and lilac paint the sky, bidding the world goodbye for the night. It’s definitely different to experience it here than back home, back where silhouettes were outlined by the golden glow. A steady breeze carries on, carrying the scent of wildflowers and musk; your curtains flap from the sheer force of it, but you pay it no mind. It’s like Ochaco brought you to a slice of paradise, even if it’s with the intention of putting in labor.
In the distance, you hear calls and the distinguished moos of cows. Shifting your gaze, you catch a herd of cows being moved towards a barn; a man riding a brown horse wrangles them in, a border collie by his side. The way he pulls it off is smooth, and it’s clear that he’s used to pulling such a feat. However, what really catches your attention is the pair of magnificent scarlet wings protruding from his back. Now, you’re used to seeing some rather flashy quirks, but this guy’s is just… Wow.
“Hey, Uncle Iroh wanted me to come get you,” Ochaco’s voice says suddenly. Turning around, you see her standing in the doorway, a pleasant expression playing on her face. “We’re having oyakodon for dinner! Doesn’t a hot meal sound delicious?” And, as if to amp up your spirits, Ochaco licks her lips and pats her tummy. “I’m so hungry from a long drive!”
You huff in amusement. “Yeah, I am too.” Turning around, you catch a glimpse of the cows disappearing into the barn, that mysterious cowboy stationed by the doors. “Hey, Ochaco,” you start before realizing it, “but who’s that other guy that lives here? The one with the wings?”
Walking over to where you stand, Ochaco peers out the window, following your line of sight. “Oh, him? That’s Keigo. Uncle Iroh says he’s only been here for the past year or so, but he’s really good at what he does! I heard all the animals like him a lot – maybe it’s because of the wings?”
“Don’t you think it’s… odd that’s only a farmhand? With a quirk like that, you’d think he’d be doing something else.”
Ochaco shrugs. “I dunno. Maybe you should ask him sometime? Oh, but I’m really hungry! Can we go eat, now?”
“Yeah, sorry, I just got distracted…”
And so, you soon find yourself sitting at a sturdy wooden table, a bowl of oyakodon sitting before you. It smells utterly delicious - and paired with the tea Iroh brewed, you know you’re in for a treat. Just then, you hear a door opening and closing; there’s a chatter of some sorts, but then there he is, right there in the flesh.
Strong build, wide shoulders, blond hair that looks permanently tousled, and oh yes, those magnificent wings. Perhaps you shouldn’t be staring so much, but the sharp line of his jaw and intense eyes make it nearly impossible to look away. You’ve heard of such things, read about them in stories, but maybe, just maybe, you might’ve fallen for the guy at first sight. That, or he’s just too damn attractive for his own good.
“Howdy! Oh, shit, who are these two cuties?”
Or maybe not.
“Oi! Keigo! Can’t you be respectful for once in your life?” Iroh barks, popping around the other. He scowls as he slaps a wing out of his way. “Make a good impression for yourself. These two are going to be here for the rest of the summer, so don’t be an ass.”
“C’mon, gramps,” Keigo drawls, “you know I’m better than that. Plus, if they don’t like my attitude, then it’s not really my fault, huh?”
“Nothing ever changes,” Zuko says lowly, his words followed by a deep sigh.
You and Ochaco share a look. It seems like your Prince Charming is nothing more than a sarcastic asshat. How befitting.
“Liven up, birdies,” Keigo says, sliding into the chair directly across from you. “I don’t bite.” He winks at you. “Yet.”
Your entire body jolts at his proclamation. This guy really is shameless, isn’t he? Still, you can’t help but feel undeniably attracted to him. Curse his charisma, dammit.
“Aw, sweet! Is this oyakodon? Hell yeah.”
To the side, Zuko facepalms. Iroh merely chuckles and shakes his head, much like he’s way too used to this kind of behavior and has accepted it as it is. Hell, even Ochako cracks a smile. You, on the other hand, stare at Keigo in confusion. He has a bird-based quirk, doesn’t he? Does it not bother him to not eat chicken…?
Keigo puts up a hand, an amused glint in his eyes. “Look, I already know what you’re gonna ask, kid. I can practically see the gears spinning in that pretty head of yours. I fucking love chicken.”
Oh… Well, that takes care of that, doesn’t it…
-
After that first fateful encounter, you’ve grown used to Keigo’s ways. It’s funny, though, how he and Zuko’s personalities basically sit on either end of the spectrum, yet Iroh treats the both of them like they’re his children. While Zuko is serious and straight-laced, Keigo is more of a chatty free spirit. That said, you’ve also gotten used to Keigo’s flirty side. You suspect it’s because he likes to get a rise out of everyone. Whether that’s the case or not, your eyes often wander after him, stare down the hard lines of his back. Even better, you itch to trail your lips over the scruff lining his jaw. The guy’s too damn hot and he knows it.
Over the past month, a game of cat and mouse has started between the two of you. Him, trying to act all chummy and overstepping numerous boundaries. You, trying not to give into the weird relationship that’s bloomed between you and him. Sure, you might have flirted back, but what were you supposed to do? After all, Keigo’s proved himself to be a rather cool guy.
“You can’t keep spacing out like that, kid,” Keigo says, snapping you from your thoughts. Glancing down at him, you attempt to suppress your embarrassment, but Keigo’s too smart for that. Despite his relaxed attitude, he’s surprisingly intelligent and quite observant.
Hands tightening around the saddle, you scoff. “I wasn’t spacing out…”
Keigo cocks an eyebrow. “You know, if I wasn’t holding onto the reins, Nugget would’ve bucked you off a long time ago.”
This time, you snicker. You know that he has an undying love for chicken, but every time he refers to his horse as Nugget, you can’t help but laugh. This guy really is like a child.
“Pffft. Laugh all you want, birdie. If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s how to ride.” Narrowing his eyes, he flashes you a sultry look. “If you want, I can show you.”
All laughter dies on your tongue. A spark of heat erupts in your stomach, makes your heart thump against your ribcage. He always manages to fluster you, to plant naughty little thoughts into your head. You swallow thickly. “I think… I think I’ll stick with Nugget for now.”
At that, Keigo shrugs, his expression turning into something more nonchalant. “Suit yourself. Seriously, though; you should always keep your focus while riding a horse. Anything can happen, and you’ll only know you’re fucked until you’re being crushed. Better yet, you’re flying overhead and end up snapping your neck. Hate to break it to you, but you don’t have wings to break your fall.”
“Keigo.”
He looks back up at you. “What?”
“Your wings. It’s just that… Well… Why help out on farm?”
Keigo blinks at you, no words slipping out. “Hah? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Shit,” you say quickly, mentally cursing yourself out, “that’s not what I meant. You can fly, can’t you? It just seems like you could’ve made a name for yourself…”
“And become a hero, right?” You wince at his words. He hit the nail right on the head. “Heh. Yeah, I guess you’re right. I could spew a whole bunch of shit from my mouth and call it a day, but that’s not my style. I’m a hero in my own right.”
You furrow your brows. Remaining silent, you wait for him to carry on.
Keigo sighs at your implication. “Not all heroes wear capes or whatever. What about cops? Firefighters? Nurses? People who help put food on your table and help that old man out? Just because I’m not stopping some robbery doesn’t mean I’m not important.”
His words come as a slap to the face. He has a good point; actually, scratch that. He has a fantastic fucking point.
“I’m sorry,” you say after a moment’s silence. “That was selfish of me.”
Keigo waves a dismissive hand. “Don’t beat yourself up, kid. Nugget gets nervous if you get into a bad mood.”
Absentmindedly, your hand drops onto the horse’s neck, giving it a couple of reassuring strokes. “He’s a beautiful horse.”
“Yeah – well, until I bathe him. Getting up close and personal to horse cock isn’t fun. A bit degrading, actually.”
Slapping a hand over your mouth, you try to muffle your sudden laughter. Air streams through the cracks of your fingers.
Instead of his usual smirk, Keigo flashes you a genuine smile. You’ve only seen it once or twice before, but it never fails to make your heart stop. His whole face scrunches, his pearly teeth a startling white compared to his sun-kissed skin. Okay, so maybe you’ve fallen in love with this guy. It’s no big deal; you’re only here for the summer, so there’s no point in chasing after something you can’t have.
“What, did ya find that funny? I’m here all week, folks.”
“You saying you’re a standup comedian now?” you shoot back. “I didn’t know they accepted clowns on farms.”
“Ohoho, so you do got a mouth. Where’s that been all this time, huh? Would’ve made things a lot more fun.” Reaching up, he knocks his cowboy hat further back, revealing more strands of sandy hair and bronzed skin. “Listen here, partner. This town ain’t big enough for the two of us.”
“Oh my god,” you say with a snort. “You’re such a dork.”
Keigo snickers. “You know you love me.”
Heh. Yeah…
If only he knew.
-
Maybe you should’ve taken his words more into consideration.
Your instincts are more attuned to what could happen in battle, not for words. Besides, Keigo is a sneaky bastard. Most of the things that spew from his mouth are innuendos and pure sarcasm. He doesn’t really come off as a genuine type of person.
It’s whatever. You don’t like to read into things too much, and maybe that’s your fault, maybe it’s not. Who knows?
Even so, your eyes continuously drift over to where he stands. He busies himself with hanging Nugget’s saddle and harness away, his body lax. If one’s thing for sure, he definitely seems a lot more comfortable around animals rather than actual human beings. You can’t blame him, but what about you? Is he comfortable around you?
Clearing your throat, you turn back to the task at hand. Brushing Nugget down, you trail your hand over the coarse hair, the hard muscle. You meant it when you said he’s beautiful. Shiny brown coat, straw colored hair – he seems like the perfect match for Keigo.
“Cowboy Keigo,” you mutter. “Tell me, Nugget,” you begin, “does Keigo treat you right? Feeds you apples and lumps of sugar? A pretty horse like you deserves to be spoiled.” At the mention of his master’s name, Nugget whinnies. “Is that a yes? You’re avoiding the question, man.”
“Are you seriously trying to sweettalk my horse?” Keigo pipes up. Stepping over the stall, he hoists himself up onto the gate and straddles the wood. Wings sweeping behind him, he flashes you a peculiar look. “Didn’t they teach you in school that you shouldn’t seduce a horse? I don’t know about you, kid, but bestiality isn’t smiled upon around here.”
“Then what does that say about you, bird boy?” you quip. “Surely you don’t put yourself in that category?”
“Ooo, degradation. How did you know that was one of my kinks? Were you looking through my search history?”
Rolling your eyes, you set the brush to the side and join him at the gate. Climbing up, you mimic his movements and straddle the wooden beam. “Kinky cowboy, huh? Kind of has a nice ring to it.”
“Oh yeah. I’ve got the bedazzled white boots and everything. I mean, I’m already wearing the assless chaps and everything.”
“You sound more like a stripper rather than a farmhand. What do you think, Nugget?” you ask, turning towards the horse. Nugget merely snorts and shakes his head.
“Hey, hey, don’t agree,” Keigo tells him. “I’ve got to keep my secret life a secret, you damned horse. Help a guy out.”
“I guess your partner would rather throw you under the bus,” you say with a chuckle. “Good horse.”
“Now you’re just trying to hurt my feelings.”
“Cry me a river, bird boy. Or do I have to kiss your booboos?”
At that, Keigo falls quiet. The look in his eyes is unreadable, but the way his body tensed tells you something else entirely. Abruptly, he swings his leg over the gate and hops back down onto the ground. Aw, shit. Did you take it too far? It was only lighthearted flirting and yanking on his leg-
“C’mere,” Keigo says, offering you his hand. His voice is a lot more… soft.
With little to no hesitation, you take hold of his hand and get off the gate. You’re about to ask him what he wants, but then he’s abruptly pulling you to the side, further away from the stable’s open doors. Birds are singing outside, their sweet melody carrying along with the sweet summer breeze. It almost seems like an entire world away. A grunt escapes your lips as you’re shoved against the wall, the smell of straw and musk filling your senses. Keigo steps in close, the heat radiating off his body sending shivers down your spine.
“Listen here, pretty little birdie,” he drawls, his lips pulling back in a smirk, “but I may just have to take you up on that offer.”
Wait, what?
“What the hell, Keigo? Where is this coming from?” you question. It’s not like you’re against him being so damn close, it’s just… unexpected.
“Oh, right, like I’m supposed to pretend that you don’t gawk at me at any chance you get. You’re not very subtle, you know.”
Embarrassment heats up your insides, crawls up your neck. So this bastard is really going to rub it in your face, huh? Seems just like him.
“Then why didn’t you say anything about it before?” you hiss. “If it’s such a problem, don’t stay silent. You’re not the type to let things like that slide.”
“Who said it was problem?”
Keigo: 1 / you: 0
Spluttering, you try to gain control of your whirling emotions. This is not how you were expecting this conversation to go. Actually, you weren’t expecting this conversation at all!
“I know for a fact that you can’t get enough of me,” Keigo continues. “And if I’m being completely honest, I like it. You look so cute when you stare after me, birdie. Then you have the audacity to pretend like nothing happened whenever I catch you.”
“Is that what this is all about?” you huff. “Okay, fine. I admit it. Maybe I watch what you’re doing more than what’s necessary. It’s not my fault you walk around all the time without a shirt on or anything…”
“Normally, I’d say because it’s because I get hot when I’m working, but knowing that you were watching made it all the better.” He winks at you. “Gotta hand out a treat here and there, you know?”
“You really are a clown!” you squeak. Keigo laughs as you weakly shove at his chest. “You’ve been leading me on this entire time? What am I, a joke?”
“Hey now, don’t get ahead of yourself, kid. It’s not my fault you couldn’t come up to me like a civilized adult.”
Okay, now you’re fuming. “Keigo, you fucking idiot-“
Swooping in, Keigo cuts you off with a kiss. Unsurprisingly, his lips are soft; he tastes like citrus and salt, and before you know it, you’re looping your arms around his neck, knocking his hat off in the process. A huff of laughter fans across your lips as Keigo pulls back, his mouth hovering over yours. “Shit, I’ve been wanting to do that ever since your pretty ass sat at the kitchen table for the first time.”
You sigh. “You really do have a bird brain…”
You kiss him, again and again. Perhaps you should be ashamed that you have your tongue shoved down somebody’s throat rather than working, but there’s no way you’re stopping now. Like him, you’ve been waiting for this moment. The two of you have been tiptoeing around each other, rolling the tension back and forth like a goddamn snowball.
But fuck if it doesn’t feel good.
His hands aren’t shy, not in the slightest. Fingertips map out the ridges and dips of your body, seek out the spots that really make you tick. You bite back a giggle as he drops his mouth down your neck, the scruff covering his jawline tickling your skin. Your own hands trail over his body, tracing over the hard lines of muscle that hide beneath his clothes. Time and time again, whenever you’d see him without a shirt, you wanted nothing more than to run your hands all over him. This is your chance, now, and you’d be damned if you didn’t take it.
“Shit, shit, shit, not the wings,” Keigo pants into your neck. The scarlet feathers feel like silk beneath your fingertips; skimming over them, you follow their shape, feel how they get fluffier the closer they are to his shoulders. “Oh, fuck. You know just what you’re doing, huh, birdie? Playing around with me like that. Two can play at that game.”
Another grunt slips from your lips as he pushes you against the wall, harder this time. His hands shamelessly drift underneath your shirt, warm palms sliding over your skin. Your shirt comes off before you know it, being unceremoniously thrown to the ground.
“Fuck, birdie, aren’t a pretty one,” Keigo purrs, his nose bumping against your throat as he sucks another mark into your flesh. “I bet you’re real pretty down here, too…” Making quick work of your jeans, he easily slips them down your legs and you eagerly step out of them. “Don’t mind if I do, kid,” he murmurs into your ear before nipping at the lobe.
A weak moan breaks from your throat as a hand slips into your underwear and cups your sex. His hand is just so warm, and the roughness of his callouses causes your head to spin. Within no time, wet, sinful noises sound from between your legs, mixing with your heavy breaths and Keigo’s encouraging words.
“Yeah, you like that, birdie? My fingers feel good, huh? Wait until you get a feel of my cock.”
Spurred on by his words, you hastily unbutton his shirt, pushing the fabric to the side and running your hands over the swell of his pectorals, the ridges of his abdomen. A faint dusting of blond hairs covers his chest and arms; and, if you look close enough, more sticks out from the waistband of his jeans. Keigo hums as you continue to feel him up, his tongue pushing against the inside of his cheek.
“Like what you see? I bet you’ve been wanting to do this for a long time… Fuck! Not going to go easy on me, huh? I like someone who can bite back.”
“Has anybody ever told you that you talk too much?” you breathe. Fingers wrapped around his cock, your movements catch up to his in speed. “You should consider yourself lucky that I like your voice.”
“Oohoohoo, feisty. That mouth of yours is saying a lot of mean things today, isn’t it? Guess I’ll have to put you in your place.” He pauses, swipes his tongue over his bottom lip. “But, if I’m being entirely too honest, I don’t think I have the patience for that.”
“Keigo,” you pant, “I swear to Christ if you don’t fuck me right now-“
“On it, on it. Don’t get your panties in a twist, your majesty.” In hurried movements, he strips you of your underwear and shucks his chaps and jeans down. Large hands grip onto your thighs and then you’re being hoisted up, sandwiched between his rigid body and the wall. “Why, won’t you feel that,” he purrs, “I’d say it’s high noon.”
“Don’t talk about your dick like that, you dork,” you scoff. “Oh, fuck.” Another pleasured noise slips through your lips as you grind down against him, his cock just barely teasing your hole.
“What was that, birdie? You know what they say – sweetie on the farm, a freak in the barn.”
“You’re anything but sweet. Just – Keigo, please?”
“Alright, I get it, enough teasing.” Adjusting his hold on you, he flashes you a tiny smile. “Hold on, partner.”
A choked groan breaks free from your throat as his cock slides in, your velvety walls sucking him in greedily. That damned smirk of his stays on his face the entire time he fucks you, along with that devious glint in his eyes. His façade only cracks after you start stroking his wings and squeeze around his cock; if he wants to act like a cocky son of a bitch, then so can you.
“Shit, you’re fucking tight,” he pants. The smack of skin against skin fills your ears, right alongside Keigo’s breathy moans and muttered words. “Keep squeezing like that, birdie, and you’re gonna make me cum quicker than I want to.”
“You almost sound like that’s exactly what you want me to do,” you breathe. “A cowboy like you has got to have some stamina, right? Don’t tell me all of that work goes to nothing.”
“Jesus, and you called me talkative. Fuck, I can’t wait to shove my cock down your throat and shut you the hell up – I said don’t squeeze like that, holy hell. Dirty little head you got there, huh?”
“Shut the fuck up,” you mumble, yanking him back into a kiss. Keigo only moans loudly as you continue to play with his wings, quickly finding out that the spot where they protrude from his flesh is the most sensitive.
“Milk my cock, birdie,” he mutters between broken kisses. “You’re so fucking good to me, oh yeah. I should’ve done this weeks ago.” A startled squeak bursts from your throat as he abruptly strikes your ass. Sucking air through his teeth, he does it again, relishing in the desperate noises spilling from your mouth. “That’s right, birdie. Come on, make me cum. I’m gonna cum so fucking hard for you, fill you up until your belly’s bloated.”
“Keigo-“ You moan as his hand drops down, fingers furiously rubbing at your sex.
“That’s right, say my name. Let the whole fucking world know who’s fucking you this good.”
“Keigo-“
Smack.
“KEIGO!”
The knot building up inside you snaps; with a cry, you cling even closer to him, your velvety walls spasming around his thick cock as you cum.
Slamming a hand against the wall, Keigo fucks into you harder, faster, the wet noises sounding from between your legs almost deafening. “Oh fuck yeah, oh fuck yeah, oh fuck, fuck, fuck – ah- ah- ugghnn…” Burying his face in your neck, his hips erratically jerk as warmth fills your insides. “Still… cumming… fuccckkk…”
Your eyes flutter as he shallowly thrusts into you, the sinful squelch of his cum leaking out around his cock filling your ears. Slowly, he comes to a stop, his hot breath fanning over your neck and the side of your face. Gingerly, you let him go, completely unaware that your fingernails had dug into him in the first place.
“Well,” he starts, lifting his head and flicking away sweaty strands of hair, “that was eventful, wasn’t it?”
You scoff. “Tell me why I like you again…?”
“Oh, darling,” he drawls, leaning in and pecking the corner of your mouth. “I don’t think you like me. I think you love me. You aren’t very subtle.” He laughs as you smack him on the chest.
“Okay, fine. You’re lucky I love you, bird brain. Don’t go rubbing it in.”
“Silly birdie,” Keigo hums, his face scrunching into that wonderful smile of his. “I may just love you too.”
Wait, seriously?
“And no, I’m not joking or being an ass,” he continues, as if reading your mind. “What’s it called? Love at first sight? I dunno, seems like cheesy bullshit to me, but I… I like the appeal of it. It sounds nice when you’re involved.”
Can I get milk chocolate with mint, crackers and walnuts w/ Bakugou?
One crunchy mint, coming right up!
Prompts: drunken confession, finally seeing each other again, about to kiss but gets interrupted
Thanks for the order!
‘beer with me here’ / Bakugou x Reader ♕︎
warnings: alcohol consumption
words: 1,418
-
If only things were easier.
If only you two weren’t pro heroes, forced to spend time apart and head separate ways, things would be easier. You know it’s selfish, thinking like this, but you’re only human. People tend to forget that when they look at the pros, set them above the human race and hold them to godly standards.
But the truth is, heroes weren’t gods. No, they were simple, ordinary people.
It’s been some time since you’ve last seen Bakugou, one of your closest friends from high school. At first, your relationship with him had been rocky; like everyone else in your class, he hurled insults your way, seemingly always wanting to pick a fight. Over time, though, the two of you managed to get on each other’s good sides and later found yourselves to be friends. It’s almost incredible how much he mellowed out over the years, but that same fiery passion still shines brightly within him.
You’re almost jealous of his ambition and the sheer level of self-pride he holds. True, while he is somewhat of narcissist, you know it runs deeper than that. Because – just like you – Bakugou is only human.
You wonder if he’s changed at all. It’s only been a little over a year since graduation; you’ve actually missed his snarky personality, the way he stubbornly shows his concern, his very being in general. All this time – even when you were still in school – you’ve tried to deny it, to crush your own feelings. At some point during the friendship with him, you’ve found yourself helplessly falling in love with him. You refused to tell him, even when you were face-to-face and alone after the graduation ceremony. In a world like this, where anything could go wrong at any moment, you didn’t want to risk it. It was hard enough saying goodbye, but to say goodbye goodbye? Your heart couldn’t take it.
But now, after all this time, here you are, back in Tokyo. It’s a trip solely meant for some sort of hero conference (you’ve never liked the paperwork involved with heroism), but then Bakugou magically texts you out of nowhere, wanting to meet up. It’s the same text you stare at now; seated in a booth of some local bar, you await his arrival.
Your hands feel endlessly clammy, even though you constantly wipe them against your jeans. Now’s not the time to be nervous; Bakugou’s your friend, for crying out loud. You should be excited to see him.
Just like that, the bell hanging above the door tingles, catching your attention over the low music filling the establishment. Your throat goes dry as Bakugou steps in, his hulking frame nearly taking up the entire space of the door. He looks good – dressed in a pair of dark ripped jeans and a motorcycle jacket, he looks like he just stepped off the set of a photo shoot.
His eyes scan the few other patrons inhabiting the bar before they land on you. Instinctively, you flash him a cheeky smile; to your surprise, Bakugou smiles back. As he comes over to where you sit, you slide out of your booth and meet him head on.
“Hey, shithead- Oof!” All breath is knocked out of Bakugou’s lungs as you envelop him a bear hug, your face nuzzling his shoulder. Shit, even though it’s only been a year, he’s grown a massive amount, both in height and muscle.
“Bakugou, I missed you,” you confess, your insides warming up in joy.
“Yeah, yeah, I missed you too, you little shit,” he grunts. “Now get the hell off me before you squeeze me to death.”
Promptly letting go of him, you flash him another smile before you sit back down. Bakugou follows suit, sliding into the seat across from you. After there’s two beer mugs and a basket of fries sitting on the table, you send Bakugou a curious glance. “So,” you start, reaching for a fry, “what’s up?”
Bakugou snorts. “Really? That’s what you have to say? What’s up? What are you, my mom?”
You smirk. “I didn’t know you and your mom are on good terms now.”
“Screw that. The old hag still likes to bust my balls every chance she gets.” He takes a swig of his beer and smacks his lips together. “But, if I’m going to answer your question… I guess I’ve been alright. Villains still hide out, there’s robberies that need taken care of, yadda, yadda… At the end of the day, I’m kicking someone’s ass and making them wish they were never born. That’s a win in my book.”
Happiness pangs in your heart. Ah, so Bakugou hasn’t changed at all. That’s great.
“Oi, stop looking at me like that.”
You blink frantically. “Huh? What do you mean?”
“I dunno. You’ve got some weird twinkle in your eye and it’s creeping me out.”
Dammit, you mentally curse, shifting your gaze to your drink. You don’t want to scare him off.
“It’s nice to see you’re still alive,” Bakugou continues. You nearly choke on your drink. Despite his voice being gruff – just like it’s always been – you can tell he’s being earnest. “Nowadays, you never know just what the hell is gonna happen. Makes you sit back and think for a bit, yeah?” With a sigh, he looks to the bar and takes another slurp of beer.
Your heart does a little dance as the light catches the pieces of metal dangling from his ears, the rings adorning his middle and pinky fingers. Is this how he always dresses now? Or did he… Did he dress up for you? Oh no, you think as his eyes flick back towards you, an unknown gleam in them. He’s hot.
You frantically chug on your beer.
“Hey- Whoa! Take it easy, won’t ya? Didn’t know you were in a rush to get hammered,” Bakugou drawls.
“Sorry, sorry,” you mutter. “My uh, my throat suddenly got too dry.”
Again, Bakugou snorts. Whatever he’s so amused by, you have no clue. You’re just happy that you’re in his company after such a long time. The two of you fall into easy conversation after that; about an hour in, a number of beer mugs litter the tabletop along with two empty baskets. At some point, Bakugou had slithered into your side of the booth, his muscular thigh pressing against yours.
You laugh at some far-fetched story of his, a large grin painted on your face. Bakugou’s face is flushed prettily, the pink color complimenting the hue of his eyes. He looks even better up close like this, smells good, too, like smoke and caramel. Slinging an arm over your shoulder, he knocks back his beer mug and finishes off the gold liquid.
“Ah!” he proclaims, licking his lips. “We should’ve done this a long time ago.”
“You’re drunk,” you say, a slight slur to your words.
“The hell I am. You’re practically sloshed.”
“Shut up,” you say with a pout, smacking his chest. “You say that like you’re not having fun.”
He clicks his tongue. “Give me some credit, won’t you? I got a cute little shit like you keeping me company – I’m practically having the time of my life.”
Your heart flutters at his words. He’s just saying that to say that, get a rise out of you by teasing. “Don’t say stuff like that,” you mumble.
“What, don’t tell me you’re embarrassed,” he drawls. Warm, beer-scented breath fans over your face. Your breath catches in your throat; he’s so close that it’s dizzying. You feel safe in his hold, surrounded by his smoky sweet scent. “It’s actually kind of nice…” He leans forward, then, his lips nearing yours. Your heart thuds wildly in your chest, almost to the point where you’d think Bakugou could hear it.
“Bakugou-“
Clank.
Jumping away from him, a small squeak passes through your lips as you look up at the bartender. “Would you two want anything else?” he says in a deep, bored voice. You watch as he gathers up the empty mugs off the table. Beside you, Bakugou curses.
“No,” Bakugou grunts. “Thanks.”
With a curt nod, the bartender picks up his tray and walks away. Turning back to Bakugou, you notice how his face is even darker, how he refuses to meet his eyes.
“Bakugou…?”
“Let’s go out again tomorrow,” he says, still not meeting your eyes. “And you better say yes, dammit.”
A small smile pulls at the corners of your mouth. “…I’d love to.”
It should be illegal, really, being allowed to stare up at the night sky. Stars pinpoint through the black, hints of distant galaxies and other worlds. Granted, with the mix of light and air pollution, it’s nearly impossible to see every single thing, but the point still stands. The sky is breathtakingly beautiful, a swirling of violets and royal blues mixing with the black.
And then there’s you, of course, ever so ethereal that you could be a star yourself.
Every time Tamaki lays his eyes on you, his heart takes off in his chest, leaves him breathless and fidgeting. He’s been enamored with you since first year, and it’s only taken him this long to finally muster up the courage and confess his feelings. Damn, he can still recall the ill feeling of his stomach, the shakiness of his nerves. He had a been a wreck around you then, even more so than now. However, all those anxious feelings paid off, and now he can proudly call you his.
Even now, as the two of you sit on the roof of your dorm building, the butterflies flapping around in his stomach refusing to calm. It’s long past curfew; normally, Tamaki wouldn’t be so keen on breaking the rules, but you’re the only exception in his eyes. Whenever you flash that brilliant smile at him, all his woes melt away, leaving behind a gentle boy craving for your affection.
Around the two of you, the world is asleep. It’s almost as if the two of you are the last humans on Earth – which, in Tamaki’s opinion, wouldn’t be so bad. As long as it’s you that’s holding onto his hand, he can face anything.
“You’re staring again,” you murmur, turning your gaze away from the sky and directing it at your boyfriend instead. An embarrassed meep breaks through his lips as his face heats up. “I thought you wanted to go stargazing tonight, bambi.”
Ah, there it is. The name you only call him in private. It never fails to send Tamaki’s heart aflutter, making him fear that he might actually have a stroke someday. You’re too precious for your own good, seriously. It’s a miracle that he hasn’t croaked over yet.
“I… I am,” Tamaki says weakly. “I got a star right in front of me, don’t I?” His eyes drop for a moment, but then you feel his hand encasing yours. The air slips from your lungs as he brings your hand to his mouth, placing a delicate kiss to the backs of your knuckles.
Between you two, it’s a never-ending game of Pong. The love you share is pure, and so, so sweet. Neither of you would have it any other way.
Swallowing thickly, you lean forward, captivated by the way his eyes twinkle in the dim light. Silly boy, saying that you’re a star when he fails to realize that he’s one himself. His mouth is delightfully warm and sweet as you kiss him, your free hand slowly reaching up and caressing the side of his face.
To him, you’re way too beautiful. You’re the missing piece needed to complete the puzzle, and by god if he isn’t the luckiest boy alive.
Hello! Milk chocolate Choco! Kirishima with almonds, chocolate chips and mint, pls and thank you 🙏😊❤
Hello to you, too! And thanks for the order!
Prompts: kabedon, accidentally calling your crush a kinky pet name, drunken confession
‘tough skin, tender heart’ / Kirishima x Reader ♕︎
warnings: hehe Kirishima is rock hard for a reason
words: 944
-
Come on, Kirishima’s smarter than this. He’s a pro hero, for crying out loud; he’s a public person, and society’s (especially the media’s) eyes are on him constantly. One dumb move and he’s sure to get dragged.
Still, it’s nice to let loose like this, especially when he’s surrounded by friends. It’s only been three years since graduating from UA, but man has a lot been going on. Between the struggles of being a pro hero and fending for himself as an adult, it’s almost like Kirishima has little to no breathing room anymore. Not going to lie, being an adult sucks major ass, but he loves being in the pro leagues.
“Bro, stop thinking so much,” Kaminari slurs, his eyes glazed over. Oh, this is just great – Kaminari’s already fucking sloshed. “Let loose! Have fun! Here, here – look at Ashido,” he babbles, jabbing a finger towards the dancefloor. Through the darkness of the club, Kirishima seeks out Ashido’s pink skin sticking out amongst the sea of sweaty bodies. “She’s out there having the time of her life.”
“Denki, man, you’re drunk,” Kirishima says.
“Oh, psssshhhh,” Kaminari rumbles, waving a dismissive hand. Slinging an arm around Kirishima’s shoulders, he leans in close and prods his friend’s solid chest. “Drink up, bud. You don’t get the chance to loosen up like this, eh? Besides…. A uh, a certain person is here!”
Dammit, Kirishima wishes Kaminari would just shut the hell up every once and a while. Despite being surrounded by loads of people and thundering music, one can’t be too sure that the wrong ears are going to pick up what Kaminari’s putting down. Instinctively, Kirishima’s eyes shoot to where you stand, drink clutched in hand and a dazzling smile on your face.
His heart clenches at the fond expression on your face. Ever since his second year in high school, Kirishima’s found himself shamelessly smitten with you. However, despite your oblivious nature and Kirishima’s stubborn one, his true feelings haven’t been told. He wants to make you smile like that, to whisk you away in his meaty arms, and to treat you like the royalty you are.
“You should talk to them,” Kaminari suggests, a shit-eating grin playing on his lips. “And maybe if you’re lucky, you’ll end up between their legs.” He giggles, then, his eyebrows waggling suggestively.
Kirishima’s face burns at his friend’s words. Sure, Kirishima would love to pull you to the side and talk your ear off, but the other thing? He can’t deny that his insides heat up pleasantly, that the slight twitch in his pants is too much to not ignore. “Fuck it,” Kirishima grunts, tipping back his head and emptying his own beer bottle.
Kaminari whoops and hollers as Kirishima slams his bottle down on a table and storms in your direction, a determined look displayed on his features. While he’s not as drunk as Kaminari, his mind is beyond hazy, and his steps aren’t as orderly as he wanted them to be. As he draws closer to where you stand, he sees you laugh at whatever Sato says; jealousy unexpectedly boils in Kirishima’s blood and his teeth gnash together. Yeah, Sato is a good guy and all, but he’s not Kirishima.
“Hey, guys,” he says, butting into your conversation. He flashes Sato a shark-toothed grin. “Buddy, mind if I steal (y/n) away for a moment? Thanks!” Before either you or Sato have the chance to respond, Kirishima’s suddenly grabbing onto your wrist and pulling you away.
“Kirishima! Hey! What are you doing!” you exclaim.
Kirishima doesn’t stop until the two of you are in the hallway leading back towards the restrooms; luckily for him, the light is even darker back here, so you probably won’t be able to see the blush burning his cheeks. A grunt slips from your lips as your back meets the brick wall, Kirishima’s large hands encaging either side of your head.
During his final year in UA, Kirishima finally hit his growth spurt; now standing at a whopping 204 centimeters, Kirishima practically towers over you. The height difference makes his insides squeeze in joy, his pulse beat harder. You’re just so cute, so fucking hot…
“Kirishima?” you ask, tone low. “Are you alright?”
“C’mon there, tiger, don’t act like a tease,” he drawls, face dropping lower. Your eyes widen at the pet name. Kirishima nearly curses for letting his tongue slip like that, but shit if he’s gonna let this opportunity pass.
“Your breath reeks of alcohol,” you continue, eyes turning half lidded. “You shouldn’t let Kaminari drag you down like that…”
“I can’t get you off my mind,” Kirishima blurts. “You’re just… you’re so cool and attractive and manly-“
“Kirishima.”
“I’m crazy about you, you know? Ever since high school-“
“Kirishima.”
“Then Kaminari had to go and put some…. thoughts in my head and I-“
“Eijirou.”
As his given name falls from your lips, Kirishima stills, his breath catching in his throat. Oh shit, now he’s done it. Damn Kaminari, spurring him on like that.
When did you get so close? Why do you look like that, so damn pretty with fluttering eyes and parted lips?
Slowly, he takes a hand off the wall and grasps your chin, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. Blood rushes through his ears at the simple touch; his heart pounds wickedly, threatening to burst from his chest at any given second. He gasps as you reach up and lace your fingers together behind his neck and pull him even further down.
“You talk too much,” you murmur.
An inhuman squeak breaks free from his throat as the front of his pants tighten.
Milk chocolate w/ chocolate chips, with kaminari plz?? only if you have time, thank you!
Why of course you can!
Prompt: accidentally calling your crush a kinky pet name
Also, enjoy the lovely pickup lines Doll and I came up with XD
‘caught red-handed’ / Kaminari x Reader ♕︎
warnings: none
words: 488
-
“Damn, you’re cute.”
No, that’s too generic.
“Whatchu doing there, smexy?”
Insert eggplant emoji here, seriously.
“You’re so hot I could fry an egg on you.”
Yeah, because that will surely get attention.
Standing in front of a mirror (by his lonesome, mind you, because he would die if anybody say him doing this), Kaminari flashes his reflection finger guns and flirty smiles. He’s simply practicing pick up lines on himself, modeling his face into flattering expressions while he does so. And no, they aren’t meant for his ears, but for yours. You see, Kaminari may or may not have the world’s biggest crush on you, but it’s not like he’s ready to confess any time soon.
“Are you on sale? ‘Cause I want to have you as soon as I can.”
Okay, damn, that one’s actually pretty smooth.
“We should be a hotdog since you got the buns and I got the meat.”
Surprise butt sex? It sounds like surprise butt sex.
“I’ll stop being a vegetarian if it means I get to eat your meat.”
Wait, now that just sounds too literal.
“Is it okay if I call you Twinkie after I’m done filling you full of cream?”
Okay, not like that’s going to land him a spot in the county jail.
It really shouldn’t be this hard to simply go up to you and tell you how he feels. He’s Kaminari Denki, for crying out loud! Smoothest of the smooth! Funniest of the funny! Easily the handsomest guy in class, but who’s really keeping track?
It’s funny, really, how much his heart thuds against his chest at the mere thought of you. You’ve always been so easy to talk to, full of gorgeous smiles, and oh boy does your cute butt make mini Kaminari jump for joy. Even now, as he smooths his hair in the mirror and flashes another flirty smile, there’s a darkening blush spreading over his face.
He just really, really wants to hold you in his arms. If he’s lucky, he might snag a kiss here or there. But most importantly (and he cannot stress this enough), he wants to call you his.
And so, as he throws another stunning round of finger guns at his reflection, Kaminari lets out a loud “kachow!”
“Hey there, baby doll, why don’t we head back to La Casa de Kaminari? Reowr~”
“Uh, Kaminari? Who are you talking to…?”
At the sudden appearance of your voice, Kaminari screams bloody murder and jumps away from the mirror, his hands clasping his chest. “Sweet mother of Jesus! (y/n)! Where did you even come from?!”
“I was standing over there the whole time?” you say slowly, motioning to a spot further across the room.
Shit, Kaminari didn’t even hear you. And if you were over there…
He blanches.
“…How much did you hear…?”
You send him a small smile. “Everything?”
Oh, dear lord in heaven, smite him now.
-
Like what you see? Come order some chocolate until the end of February!
