Request- OPEN ! Come into the Confessional. 24/ 26 Krissy n KeKe. Placing uncultured thoughts in the minds of the tainted and innocents. Two People objectively making the world a better place. Multifandom Headcanons/Drabbles Such as Kengan Ashura/Haikyuu/FF7 and whatever is in our head that day. 18+ NSFW! MINORS PLEASE DO NOT ENTER
Every other pair of eyes on you feels like stealing. I’d pull you out of this reality and keep you locked away, making myself your only air. I can't stand sharing you. You’re mine. Completely. And I don’t care if that sounds like an obsession.
🏁 pit stop ! 𖦹 surprisingly, katsuki bakugou is pretty good with kids. they like the colours of costume and the funny faces he makes when he’s mad. what’s even more surprising, is the single mother he falls for and the little girl that quickly becomes his whole world. (8.3K)
🏁 safety car ! ⋆ safe for work ⋆ fluff ⋆ eighteen plus only. pro hero au, characters are depicted as adults. strangers to lovers, single parents, found family, mentions of drinking, child getting lost in large crowd, reader has a named daughter, katsuki referred to as dad. pro hero katsuki bakugou, single mum & fem reader.
🏁 team radio ! ⋆ happy birthday to everyone’s favourite explosive boy. i’m so happy i managed to get something out for him this year, even if it’s pure fluff, love you sm sm kacchan!! hope you all enjoy and click for more.
whether he liked it or not, tiny and little humans had some kind of affiliation for him — neither deterred or discouraged by the hero’s hardened exterior and the rough scars stretching across his face, up his jawline. no, more than anything, children looked up to him — saw someone they wanted to be, someone who kept them safe, someone they admired.
dynamight to most children these days is what all might was to katsuki back then. some kind of symbol, some kind of path and footsteps to follow.
in actuality, he doesn’t mind it. when the little ones of his friends and ex classmates clamber all over him, tug at his hero costume, play with his gear or call him ‘uncle kacchan’ whenever he comes over. he likes it, secretly, being someone they can look up to and someone who can look out for them in the way so many of his teachers and mentors did. katsuki bakugou, whether he’s willing to tell you the truth or not, has a soft spot for the innocence children bring to an oftentimes cold, cruel world. their laughter like sun on his skin and their smiles like a warm hug to the heart.
so, when katsuki is flushed in the face and stumbling over his words at the class 1-A weekly get-together — hard liquor sloshing over the rim of the glass he’s barely holding in a late-night bar after patrol, chest warm and ruby eyes sparkling… no one is really surprised by his accidental slip up. the one in which he blabbers on and on about single mother he’s got a crush on. the very single, available, gorgeous ( katsuki’s own words, verbatim, mind you ) single-mother working at the front desk and in the receptionist department of izuku’s agency. of all places.
“she’s gonna me mine, ‘m damn sure if it. even that damned kid.” at the time he’d confessed it like it was a promise, swore up and down and to the stars that he’d have you — hardly deterred by the fact that you had a child, a whole life before him full of firsts you’d already completed. bakugou’s friends didn’t laugh even if he’d slurred and slumped over after knocking back the rest of his drink — they knew he meant it, they were happy for him because love hadn’t come easy to katsuki before. easy hasn’t come easy to him before.
… and low and behold, everything with you, was like that. easy. like the drop of a hat. unlike troubled waters. from the day he met you at his childhood best friend’s agency — all the way until now.
katsuki had noticed you randomly one morning. walking into that idiot deku’s agency to discuss strategy for an after school training session the teacher had offered up to his students on kacchan’s behalf. it didn’t help that the blonde was already antsy, exhausted from paparazzi — he’d have made less of a fool of himself then. after making it through security, breezing through the lobby like he owned the place, bakugou is stopped by a slight and additional weight on his heavy orange-studded combat boots. he’d paused, all six foot something of his hulking frame taking up space in the bustling lobby, and then lifted his foot.
thus, coming eye to eye with a kid no older than three or four — the type with an adorable little nose (thankfully clean of boogers) and bright eyes that practically reflect the fluorescent lights above.
she’d beamed up at him then, chubby cheek perched upon the bend in his knee — unassuming, unaware of social cues, adoring him like he’s not capable of deadly things. her head tilted, smile widened to show the gaps in her baby teeth before whispering words that melted katsuki’s heart from innocence.
“i like your boots. orange is my favourite colour!”
his entire body had smiled with her. filled with a warm fuzzy feeling, akin to the flickering amber of a flame — extending from the tips of his toes to the top of his head. katsuki remembers it well, unfamiliar with the tight pull of his lips into a genuine grin. “yeah?” he’d laughed, a hybrid mix of amusement and surprise stretching through the sound, before prying the little girl from his knee and settling her safe on her feet so he could stoop properly to her level. “what’s your name, hah?”
“akari, momma calls me kari!” akari introduced herself with a practiced politeness that had surprised him at the time. a three year old runt with better manners he’d ever had.
tilting his head, bakugou then asked. “you lost, kid?”
“nuhuh. momma’s commin’,” she shook her head once, followed by the bounce of her curls very much stolen from someone else. someone who loved her too much and took care of her with every corner of their beating heart. heels click against the marble floor and accompanied by a shrill shriek — a mother’s voice only heard once reunited with their child, bakugou knew that voice all too well. his mother was the same.
protective. fearful. worried.
and then there you were, a vision coming straight into his ruby lined view — bounding up behind the child the pro hero bow crouched before.
you were picture perfect in your corporate-esque pencil skirt and matching blazer — shiny curls and locks pulled back into the a professional style perfectly suiting your hair type, not a part of you out of place… except for your frazzled expression and the wild look swirling in your eyes, panicked for your child. “i am so sorry,” you’d gotten out in a rush of syllables and letters that sounded all too pretty coming from you. a complete ( entirely too stunning ) stranger. “kari baby, i thought we agreed that you’d wait behind the desk until momma could take lunch. then you’d hang out with izuku—”
that had caught the explosive hero’s attention, head snapping up to the child in order to look for similarities and compare them to his old friend. “she his?”
there wasn’t any malice, only curiosity and a twinge of jealousy that hadn’t gone unnoticed by you. people always talked, always asked — curious as to why someone your age and so young already had a three year old toddler in tow. perhaps you were paid off to keep hush about a celebrity affair, maybe you were married fresh out of university and widowed. however, this would have been the first time somebody had asked about akari’s father and looked like they’d wanted it to be them.
“oh no,” waving a hand — you’d seemed bashful at the time, though bakugou couldn’t the lines of love etched into your features as you looked down at your daughter even then. “she’s all mine, i like to think. all the best parts of me that i need to keep safe, all the parts of me that i wish someone else had protected,” it was more than the answer that he expected, and somehow just what katsuki needed to hear — to know that not only were you single; but someone who loved others oh-so dearly and with their whole entire soul. too good for the world and anything in it. “did you need to see him? izuku? he’s uh—in a meeting right now, free in an hour… i can ring you up—?”
your words became spaced out between the way you’d bounced your baby girl on your hip and sashayed your way back to the front desk to book bakugou in — your eyes only finding his, albeit shyly, once you were safely behind the thick oak and computer systems that groaned to life after getting back online, ready to take his details.
bakugou took one look at you in that moment, squirming under his fiery gaze and then shifted his line of sight over to your baby — all happy and smiles, despite being stuck at work with her momma. bakugou thinks, really, just for a moment. if he does this, there’s no going back or being normal — there’s a mother and a child on the line… but he can’t deny the skip in his heart, one he hasn’t felt since the damn thing kickstarted after his death, he gets just from looking at you, being in your presence.
he wants to live without regret, remember than in his line of work every day could be his last so there’s no point in holding back. when you shift awkwardly, raising a brow under the suspicious looks from your coworkers — katsuki catches on, leaning his forearms against the desk politely and subtly flirtatiously.
“hold that thought,” he breathed, exhaling his nerves. “how about, you give me your number first ‘n then ring me up to that nerd — i-i mean, izuku?”
despite the low blow at your boss, you couldn’t help but flash him a flirtatious grin — endeared by the blush blasted across the brave hero’s hardened features. it’s only when you’re scribbling down your digits for him on a post-it that katsuki realises his success.
and from there, the rest is history.
it starts slowly.
bakugou making a home for himself in the outer shell of your mundane life. he paints the walls of said home, your daily routine, with colours of amber and orange and happiness in the form of your daughter’s soft giggles and date nights that make you feel like a proper human adult again — outside of your role as a mother and a matriarch.
that day at deku’s agency, he’d taken your phone number and then taken a crack at your carefully guarded heart, peeling back its paper mache layers and all, the ones that stop you from falling apart after the bullshit akari’s biological father put you through. the blonde pro hero promised to take care of it, of you, over wine after hours on your terms and at your place, never his, because you have a little human to take care of and katsuki could never question that. he makes a promise to commit to your little girl, not just you — not replace the place of her father but be someone the two of you can lean on when you really need it, when you feel like asking.
so there had been dates for two only ever when you had the time in your busy schedule for katsuki and sometimes dates for three when your parents were too tired in their older age for childcare and the sitters all fell through. katsuki bakugou, known for thinking fast and being sharp on his feet, always adjusted the plans he'd made to fit three.
fancy dinners catered to spoil you turned to lord dynamight in your kitchen after a late shift and a school run — making spaghetti bolognese with hidden veggies to get your daughter to have her five a day. romantic weekend getaways turned into road trips that included an educational outing to a museum or the aquarium — scrapped knees hanging over katsuki’s shoulders, new and matching keychains from the gift shop clipped to his car keys and her little backpack whilst the two wore twinning caps to cover their faces. identified hidden away from the paparazzi just for a weekend. shopping sprees where you’d end up draped in luxury morphed into grocery store runs on a sunday — narrowly dodging press and cameras as katsuki battled with your baby girl over which cereal was best for her growing teeth and bones.
it didn’t matter what he wanted to do with you or when he wanted to do it — if you needed it, your daughter fit right in too.
as time went on, your clothes and her shoes ended up in all four corners of his place. two extra toothbrushes alongside his, unicorn themed toys and fairy princess tea sets dotting sleek black furniture which sort of needed to be baby proofed?
in turn and as some form of wholesome payback — you made a home out of katsuki’s actual home. brought him a warmth not even his quirk could provide, and he was happy. just you three turning into this domesticated version of a family he never quite thought he’d deserved. it felt like you were becoming a unit, especially after meeting his parents — your angel akari dressed to the nines in the sweetest little dress and you dolled up so nice the man could barely keep a straight face as his mother gave you the once over. there were two extra places set at the dining table from then on, one for you and one for your daughter. courtesy of mitsuri, who loved you both oh so much.
then one day, everything sort of…shifts.
throughout your relationship and to your daughter, bakugou was known as ‘momma’s hero friend’ or ‘mister dynamight’ on occasion. even if you’d talked about it extensively, late nights curled up under blankets whilst conversations of the future hang in the air, you’d laid down the law and let katsuki know the reality of fatherhood. you weren’t looking for a replacement and certainly not for someone who’d tear your daughter’s heart in two when worse came to worse. he knew that, he accepted it right away.
because he never wanted anything more in his life. all the parts and pieces of you, he wanted to keep to himself — even the little ones with minds of their own like akari. katsuki bakugou wanted all of it. the tears, the laughter, the anger. it would be his to keep, so help him.
so, your daughter knew that katsuki was something precious to her momma just like she was. that you kissed sometimes and held hands like other parents, she enjoyed it. innocent in her happiness for her mother, believing in a childlike way that there would be a fairytale ending in which her mother would get her handsome prince in the form of her favourite hero.
having him around meant more smiles, staying up past bed time and sometimes sweet treats before dinner if she could convince him hard enough. it meant being picked up from school in the coolest car on the block and getting to brag to friends about how many pro heroes come over for dinner on a wednesday night ‘cause that’s when momma makes pizza.
having dynamight in her life meant you were happy, brighter than when it was just the two of you and in some child-like way — she recognised that. kids are smarter than adults give them credit for.
akari tells katsuki that she likes him, one night when he’s staying over and able to tuck her in. she asks him to stay forever in the middle of reading a bedtime story from school. peace at last, it’s called.
katsuki kisses her head as he turns the page; a silent promise. he doesn’t trust his voice to speak as the warbled vowels and consonants cause an ache in his throat.
convention season rolls around at the end of the school year, like a step into the summer break that calls for fun, family and free time. naturally, work never slows for your explosive pro hero boyfriend — petty crime picks up under the blistering warm of japan’s sun, burning the backs of necks and kissing cheeks until they’re rosy with heat stroke. yet, between stolen bikes and ice pops from elderly vendors on street corners — katsuki makes time for your makeshift unit of three, he holds the towels and the blue cooler filled with crunchy ice chips when he’s got time off to visit the beach and he takes your daughter to swim class at the outdoor pool on weekends to keep up with her lessons. even at work, there’s space for you two.
bakugou gets you tickets to nearly every one of the annual conventions, hero or comic con, that he’s forced to sit at — do panels and press junkets and fan meets for. in the weeks leading up, where he stays at your place instead of his and takes refuge in the blanket fort he’d spent hours constructing with your baby ( now passed out amongst stuffed animals and fairy lights ), the blonde tells you he’s not cut out for the work that goes into being a pro hero. the social side. the smiles and the cameras and the encouraging messages to strangers with struggles a little different from his.
you smile, jamming a thumb into the crease between his brows and circle it teasingly. “careful. you’ll get wrinkles, hot shot,” you hum, turning on your side and curling into the beat of his heart. “what if we come with you? a familiar set of faces in the crowd… i’m sure kari would love to see you in action too…”
it doesn’t take much convincing, not with the way you’ve taken to drawing little shapes on katsuki’s broad chest — smiling softly to yourself like you, like your daughter, don’t already own every inch of him. he’s yours, as much as the both of you are his. no need for words or papers to promise it.
baby’s first time at one of your boyfriend’s conventions is full of endless chatter, big spending mini managing. she pleads with him to purchase something from nearly every stall in artists alley, pinning princess luna badges and littlest pet shop stickers to the gruff, grumpy hero’s edgy costume. she delegates which prints get signed and in what colour sharpies at katsuki’s autographing booth ( most in pink glitter, some in orange or red ) and then grows brave enough to ask a question into the mic when it’s time for the two o’clock hero panels.
by your third, she’s already an expert at con crunching — demanding that she cosplay all versions of lord dynamight’s hero costume so they can match in every photo. by your fifth that summer, things go awry.
the air is sticky in the way that’s unpleasant — like the residue of candy smeared across your hands, stuck to the groves in your fingerprints despite how much you try to wash it off. it’s the kind of heat that clings to the tightest parts of your outfit, makes your entire body flush with sweat despite it hanging in the atmosphere. there’s too many people around, fit together like sardines in a tinned can, and bakugou’s little family has grown weary from the day — the walking, the talking with fans and endless ‘s’cuse me’s and sorry’s that come with being in such an enclosed space.
the real icing on the cake, is when your job calls in with an emergency request half way through the fun.
“izuku’s assistant called out today, the convention flu is what they’re calling it,” you say with a smile that seems to fray at the edges — tugged upwards by fine strings of parenthood and exhaustion. a mini lord explosion murder dynamight sits hungry and second away from a tantrum on your hip. “i think he’ll need my help at his booth, he’s no good at conventions on his own.”
“want me to take her?” he nods down at the fussy baby on your arm.
“no, you’re working, kats. i.. we don’t want to be a bother.”
you’re not. you wouldn’t be. it’d be my honour. he wants to say, but the worry lines on your pretty face tell him not to argue or make a scene — he doesn’t want to cause further upset. “then my sidekick’ll take her. she’ll be safe all afternoon. we’ll get her some food ‘n somethin’ shiny to occupy her, then we’ll be all good till deku lets you go. yeah?”
he leans in, pinching the chub of your baby girl’s cheek with such fondness you could mistake him for her father — she whimpers, stomach eating her little insides but keens into his touch like she trusts him. “‘suki, ‘m hungry!”
“i know aka-chan, we’ll getcha somethin’ soon.”
you look between the two and then the assistant who looks like he’s about to shit his pants. “i-i’m good with kids! i have little sisters!” his stutter makes you wince but you’re at your wits end, on a time crunch before the fuse on your little one’s appetite explodes.
“okay,” you nod once but still unsure as you move into setting her on her feet before you — hugging her close to your legs. you’re trying to be better, at trusting and letting him help. after all, your baby, your akari might even trust him a little more than you. katsuki gets it, he’s never fought you on your decisions as a parent — since aka-chan is yours and the most precious thing you have. but this time, you’re letting go and giving into him, letting another piece of your heart drift to him over an open sea like he’s offered you a life line.
you take it, firmly. “just…” you look up at his sidekick. “she’s got no allergies, but she’s sensitive to lactose. she’ll fight you on it, ‘cause she’s funny about her veggies but mae sure she eats them,” you instruct, strict. “her money is in the inside pocket of her backpack… she’s got a limit on how many toys she can get today but more art is fine and—“
“we’ve got it, right kiddo?” katsuki assures you, swooping down to be eye level with your grumpy baby. “you’re gonna be good while momma works, yeah? that idiot’s gonna get ya some food, take you to artist alley and then we’ll meet back here for my panel. how’s that sound?”
“i am?”
“you are. that’s what i just said, ain’t it?” your boyfriend bites his tongue. careful of cursing in front of a child. it’s cute that he does that.
akari toes the floor with her light up sneakers as if she’s tossing up her options — such a big decision for her age. eventually, the growling in her little belly out weighs the need to cling onto you and she topples into katsuki’s grip like it's home. “sounds good,” she looks up at you, pleading with puppy dog eyes to rival your own. “wanna go now momma.”
“okay sweet girl,” you relent, brushing back her wild curls with tender affection. “be so good while i’m gone. you know what to do if somethin’ happens?”
“look for suki or you ‘n scream as loud as i can!” she rolls up her sleeves, revealing his number written underneath yours on her arm. the sight makes bakugou’s weary heart clench at the inclusion. another little piece of your heart that you’re breaking and passing to him willingly. “ask an… n’dult to call you if i get lost.”
you crouch on her other side — kissing her warm chubby cheek. “good girl, i’ll see you soon. i love you so much.”
“love you more!”
for an hour and a half you trust katsuki’s assistant with your daughter while the two of you work. the thought of her never leaves your mind, but you let yourself believe that everything will work out the way it’s supposed to. until a very panicked sidekick calls you, terror streaked throughout the water colours of his voice, crackled and broken over the static of the con crowd.
“m-mrs dynamight — i-i’m so sorry. i— shit, i turned my back for just a second to talk to and…aka-chan. i’m so sorry. i lost her.”
in that moment, you hardly register the slip up on your name. the implication of being seen as katsuki’s missus rather than his long term girlfriend. his partner. it’s the farthest thing from your mind, especially with the most precious thing in the world to you… missing. all the cells and plasma that make up your blood run cold, icy enough the blue your lips and freeze you in place and time. the art of breathing becomes difficult, staggered enough to deprive your heart and lungs all of all the oxygen that you need — it dizzies you so badly that you have to step away from the ebb and flow of izuku’s photo-op station.
he doesn’t say anything aside from asking about your wellbeing with gentle forest eyes and brows twitched upwards. like a good man, he doesn’t question it when you say you need to go. now.
at first, katsuki pays no mind to his phone as it buzzes once in the middle of his panel — once upon a time you’d scolded him to hell and back about keeping it on silent all of the time, worrying sick about his safety after villain chases on TV. he learned is lesson since, and, usually, it’s nothing.
a text about his day, a follow on instagram , the latest hero rankings and — sure, his sidekick was a little late to meeting up with him for the panel. and, yeah, you were still unfortunately wrapped up in business with your boss but katsuki believed it to be all under control. that his family unit was safe and sound. however, when his phone buzzes again half way through a question from a very nervous red-riot fan two seconds away from passing out — the blonde pauses, pushes through his answer with a curt politeness not even the head of PR could pull from between his perfect pearly white teeth and then lets his friends lead on the discussion, stories of their uprising to heroes and who’s got the best suit.
useless, pointless, fan-fanatic bullshit that doesn’t matter — not right now, not when vermillion eyes are laced with sheer terror and a level of panic katsuki hasn’t felt since dying bursts painfully through his lungs.
YOU: akari’s gone. your sidekick said she’s missing.
YOU: have you seen her? is she with you?
YOU: maybe she went back to the panel ??
YOU: kats… i can’t find her
suddenly the room feels too big, there are too many cracks and crevices in which a little girl could get lost. stray hands, suspicious snarls flash behind his eyes — anything could happen to her, especially in a place like this full of people with both good and bad intentions. conventions are loud, busy and overwhelming even to the most sturdy of adults, let alone a girl just barely over three feet.
discreetly, he pings you a message. he’ll take care of it, if you, the little girl his heart was already falling in love with and willing to keep as his own. the pro hero fires another one off to his agent across the room — catching her clipped demeanour slip for just a second, brief fear flickering across stone cold polished features before she pieces herself back together. she leaves the panel area, swiftly conducting her own search.
everyone is scared of a missing child, everyone automatically assumes the worst… but for katsuki bakugou he feels so much more intensely. he knows you; how you can barely stand to be separated from your daughter for more than a mere moment — after all, you are the only person who pulled herself apart to deliver such a sweet baby into the world. the only one who suffered through late night feeding and the terrible teething tantrums. through and through, you are that girl’s mother and he, a person you trusted to keep akari safe.
it’s taken you a lot to open up to bakugou, let him bear the brunt of parenthood alongside you after facing it all on your own for so long. and now, the culmination of your life’s work and love has disappeared within an instant — no thanks to him.
his heart races like he’s lost something of his own, nausea curling around the tangled organs in his stomach — twisting his thoughts into the worst possible outcomes. katsuki, for the first time since dying in his late teens, is terrified. questions without answers, ones where his brain confuses reality with the cruel diction of his mind start to filter through — is she hurt? is she sick? did someone take her?
the blonde must have visibly paled, all colour from his golden skin and dangerously vibrant red eyes has drained away as though someone has sucked the colour from live film, because kirishima nudges him — smile weak, barely there and suddenly the typically explosive number two hero is all too aware of the bright lights and phone screens and mics and curious eyes all laser focused on him.
“you okay, blasty?” the red head whispers, drawing his mic away from his sharp-toothed mouth.
bakugou blinks once, twice — pulse erratic beneath his skin. he needs to go, needs to find her now. “what?” he snaps, without meaning to be vicious. “huh?”
“it’s your question, dude…” kaminari speaks this time, tone etched with worry, from katsuki’s left.
everyone is watching, waiting, preying on his next move and all he can think about is the thought of your baby — hell, his baby, scared and alone and possibly with someone else. someone dangerous. the brutish pro’s gaze scans the room, picking apart hair colours and face shapes trying to identify the kid and even flickers momentarily to his agent, who only offers him a frightening frown. no luck. fuck.
lifting his mic apologetically, mask suddenly too tight around his eyes and hero costume sticky against his scarred skin, katsuki takes a deep breath to steel his nerves. calm himself before the real pressure hits.
“listen guys, fuck, i think i gotta—”
“daddy!”
before he can even think of what to say, how to apologise for ditching a panel to search for a kid that isn’t even biologically his — the little girl he’s so desperate to find barrels through the left lane of chairs that form his audience. akari’s sweet brown eyes are wet with enough tears to make up the volume of water in her teeny tiny body and her voice is shrill from crying. she runs past fans patiently waiting to ask questions to their faves, but bakugou can hardly care less — he matches her pace, stumbling from his seat down to the bottom of the stage where he scoops the tiny toddler into his burly arms.
cameras click, the crowd coos but all he can focus is the little girl quivering in his hold — her tiny fingers curling into the latex of his costume bound to all of his muscles, softening the embrace. “hey, hey. you’re okay,” bakugou mumbles against her hairline, hugging the back of her head to keep her close. “what happened, baby? y’get lost?”
she nods her head babyish as though she’s afraid of getting scolded and tucks her face further into his strong neck. “did everythin’ you ‘n momma said, stayed put a-and asked n’dult for help!” the tighter he squeezes her, the more akari relaxes — her hiccuped sobs retreating into small shaky sniffles. “showed ‘em your number on my arm n said my daddy was doin’ a play here. they helped me find you.”
katsuki doesn’t care about the snot on his clothes or the tears seeping through to his skin — the adrenaline stops him from focusing on it, heart racing faster than it would during any fight or patrol, only slowing once he’s got her safe and sound.
“that’s good, bug, did such a good job.” he smiles softly, dazed and dizzy by her safe return and maybe the fact that she’s called him dad. twice.
little fingers and tiny hands gesture towards the two starstruck teens dressed, funnily enough, as bakugou and deku. he gives them a wave, makes a mental note to sign their shit later and get a photo. he’ll kill his sidekick afterwards. “did so good, aka, betcha mom’s worried sick.”
she makes a hybrid sound, half way between a whine and a groan — flinging little chubby arms around his neck as if they could get any closer than they already were. bakugou hums then, shoots a nod to his agent and hauls the little girl up to sit on his hip comfortably. as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, as if a toddler who no one knew about hasn’t just screamed ‘dad’ and cried his name, the blonde breezes back up to the stage and resumes the panel — seating your daughter in his lap and whilst the audience ooo’s and aww’s at her adlibs between questions.
she is a professional hero too, after all.
eijirou entertains big brown eyes and a fidgety toddler with his hardening quirk between questions, denki creates static in soft tendrils of hair which makes akari look a little bit more like bakugou. she paws at the mic to tell fans that their costumes are so cool and overall, her mood improves… because to her, katsuki is safe just like mom is. he’s home. someone she can trust.
he texts you an update, large palms curling around akari’s tummy to keep her sturdy.
KATS: stand down momma.
KATS: found akari, kid came to me all on her own.
KATS: meet us at the panel?
it’s not until one of the jittery teens who just so happened to rescue the baby girl bundled up in lord dynamight’s arms, that his attention ticks — gratefulness carved into his features, spread across this absentminded smile, pulling at thick sunny blonde brows. katsuki holds her a little tighter now, jogging his knee up and down to keep her soothed whilst she sits across his thighs, now playing with a pen someone had handed to her.
“has anyone ever saved you? like… the way you save other people?”
the question drops like a flare in the night and while the other pro heroes answer both light and airy with their words — katsuki can’t help but mull it all over. has he been saved before? yes. more times than he can count and whether he wanted it or not. there have been a myriad of instances where someone, somehow has kept him alive with just words or a thoughtful gesture even when he didn’t deserve it.
but he knows now, that no matter what he’s done or said in the past — his life matters. his existence has been earned and he’s repented for his mistakes. if katsuki hadn’t, he wouldn’t be here. with you, with akari, with his friends right alongside him chatting away about the superficial things with the people who keep his career steady and stable. in a way, you saved him, akari saved him — the realisation is as sweet as honey on his tongue because…
“yes,” katsuki answers without holding back, as if speaking his feelings is as easy as breathing in an icy gust of fresh country air. “y’know, sometimes, bein’ a hero — you forget to take care of yourself. s’all adrenaline and beating down the bad guys, but you don’t care what happens to you or your body in the process. just makin’ sure that everyone else is okay.”
the blonde hero starts, occasionally poking the corner of his mouth with his tongue — deliberating on what to say next, what parts of his heart to share with the world where he’s usually so private. “but then there’s my kid ‘n my girlfriend. they care about the little bits of me that look invincible to everyone else, my little girl,” bakugou, despite holding the mic to his lips, presses them against the softness of akari’s hairline like he’s grounding himself. “she’ll ask me why ‘m so beat up ‘n bruised. play pretend doctor when ‘m over at her mom’s until she’s able to properly patch me up.”
“having a family like this, blood or not, reminds me to take care of myself even while i’m doing my job.” something stirs in the distance, behind the crowd of convention-goers stacked up after rows of filled seats. “i started bein’ smarter during fights, gentler with the ones i know can go down easy. started thinking before jumping into it.” it’s just a little commotion. small, yet, urgent enough to catch the eye of the fabled explosive pro hero. he feels himself sit a little straighter, voice much more sure than before because through a sea of people — katsuki’s love lined ruby eyes find yours. a little frantic with motherly fear, a little glassy as if you’d been listening to him speak this whole time. “you know, taking care of myself for the people who care about every bit of me.”
then you’re melting on the spot, all the tension in your shoulders eases and turns into pure relief once you spot your baby wriggling about on the edge of bakugou’s lap as if she’d always belonged there and been a part of him. “so when i say, yes, i’ve been saved. i don’t mean in the physical way,” the hero ends his speech with a small nod your way, all of his heart entirely yours — signed off to you like his name has been printed on a contract. “i mean in the way that family can, that being loved can.”
at first, the audience is quiet — not in a way that’s awkward or pained, but the type of silence that makes you think. drink in the moment and appreciate what you’ve been given. although the air tingles with warmth, the subtle scent of love mingling with every quiet break taken — there’s some kind of emotive tension that thickens the atmosphere. in that silence, that tension, that quiet — katsuki finds you again. endeared and amused by the tears that threaten to spill over the apples of your cheeks, the acceptance on your face and the trust that underpins it.
as if you hadn’t already known before, you know now that you can trust katsuki bakugou with the most precious thing you have.
off to the side, kaminari’s fond, amused laughter echoes through the mic and sends a warm vibration through the valves in your heart. “woah, dude, didn’t know you could be such a sap!” he jokes lightly, alleviating the weight in the room, though it’s not unwelcome.
“it’s not sap, i’m just being honest about real shit!” the lighter blonde retaliates with no malice behind his tone — everyone around him chuffs, entertained by the back and forth between two long time friends and amplified by a tiny hand slapping against his slightly stubbled cheek. the conventions have been busy, you like his peach fuzz but prefer when he shaves — only reminded by akari rubbing her little mitts over the gentle beginnings of a beard.
“thas’ a bad word, daddy. no swearin’!”
it’s not until later that evening that everything hits katsuki all at once.
you’re in his bathroom, the one he doesn’t share with the three year old snoozing down the hall — brushing your teeth, face mask on, while his shirt hangs loose on your frame, swallowing you up because it’s however many sizes too big. he’s stepped back to give you some space, it’s been a long time since he learned not to mess with your night time routine — but katsuki’s grateful, it gives him a second to admire you, watch you move through his space as though you’ve always been there. in that moment, you look like home and everything he fights to come back to. in that instance, you feel like his family that he can’t see himself living without.
bakugou pushes off the tiled wall he’s been leaning on, the surface cold in comparison to your heated skin as he wraps sturdy arms around you from behind. the sight in the mirror above the bathroom sink is one of domesticity, a head full of fluffy straw blonde hair tucked carefully into the junction between your neck and shoulders, a hulking man curled around you like he can’t get enough and his large, hands full of so much power, danger and love settled onto your soft stomach. it’s home. its safe.
you don’t say a word but your body does the talking, sinking back into bakugou like you trust him to catch you if you fall. he moves with you, letting you finish off with your electric toothbrush — killing the buzz once you’re done with it before you swipe away the rest of your face mask. content to work in your arms.
slightly chapped lips graze the base of your throat, heated and careful — the ghost of everything he wants to say pressed into your skin.
calm stillness lingers between you both, your breathing syncs and you lean into one another because it’s been… a day. a day where the two of you have learned to give and trust in order to protect something you mutually love. you don’t push, you wait for the thoughts that turn to phrases into katsuki’s mind and only reach back to rake your fingertips through his sun-kissed hair, soothing his mind where it can’t catch up enough to let him talk.
“she called me dad,” bakugou’s voice is gravelly, thick with emotion when he decides he trusts himself enough to speak. “not just once…like three fuckin’ times and i know what that means. how heavy that is. won’t ever ask her to say it again unless she wants to but i—”
he’s rambling, he knows that — he’s not the type to lose his cool. it’s taken him years of trust and battle scars to let other people see the sides of him that are vulnerable and weak and care so damn much. yet, with you, it all comes too easy. as natural as a heart beat or filling your chest and lungs with oxygen.
in the mirror, katsuki catches the soft twitch of your lips up into an adoring smile — as though you’ve realised something about him, this. he goes onto say. “she called me dad and i… well, shit. i liked it. i loved it,” he hums against your neck, kissing in an attempt to hide his shyness in your baby hair. “and i swear, ‘m not talking shit. she’s your kid and i love her and i know what this means…but if you’re okay with it, if you want me to. i’ll step up, prove myself as someone she can call a father.”
“oh, katsuki…”
turning in his arms, you can’t help but sniffle — taking his face between shaky hands and cupping his cheeks. for three years, you’ve done this all on your own. the late nights full of tears, the toddler temper tantrums and early mornings before school. toys scattered under your feet, styling hair where your mother never quite properly taught you how to do your own. you’ve braved it all by yourself, hardly ever asking for help and here, now, comes this brilliantly stubborn man who’s all rough around the edges and hardly cookie cutter ready to help you through it all.
he wants to be a father, he wants to help you raise your little girl you’ve broken every part of you to protect. katsuki wants you to let him in for good, and your daughter does too.
he sees your eyes start to twinkle with tears once more and that’s when katsuki laughs. quiet, breathy, fond. his scarred fingers sink from your waist to your ass, lifting you up until you’re able to wrap your legs around his hips.
“you’ll get dehydrated if you keep cryin’ today, sweetheart,” you don’t mind the way he talks to you, all gentle and slow like katsuki’s bringing you down from an overwhelming emotion before it drowns out your voice. it’s so tender, reassuring to know that he’s got you. both you and your baby. “‘m telling you now. i want this. i want her to be my kid, swear to god she might as well be. i love her, love you,” he rasps like it’s a promise — swearing to the invisible crown atop your head.
you press your forehead to his, eyes fluttering shut as you’re soothed by his confession. “today, when you said she was lost… i thought i’d die. don’t laugh at me! i did!” mushy gushy words dissolve into his deep, rumbling giggles that send a burst of warmth through your being — even if you’re a teary, emotional mess katsuki can still make you smile. “listen, i haven’t panicked that much since i was a kid. a stupid one who thought that i could handle the world,” bakugou sucks in a breath. you feel it coast warmly over your bottom lip. “i’ll do anything to never feel like that again, keep her close and safe ‘cause i feel like she’s mine.”
“she is yours,” you say wetly, shaking your head of any tears that start to clump in your lashes. “she’s called you dad after all. you might as well be.”
it’s a bashful ask, but it’s you finally opening up your heart and tearing your walls down — you’re letting katsuki be akari’s father figure if he wants to and he’d be a fool to say no. saying yes means more summers like this, more melted ice creams in the back of his expensive car and sticky fingers that cup his face until he makes silly expressions. saying yes means school pick ups and drop offs where bakugou catches akari bragging about how cool dad is. saying yes means seeing her grow, means birthdays and parties and sweet sixteens and maybe even boyfriends. or girlfriends. or partners. and stern talking to’s. ‘if you hurt my daughter — i’ll kill you’ kinda speeches.
katsuki never thought he’d say it, see it or get to experience it — but he can’t wait to learn and to grow with you. to become a father of exemplary to his own and those that reared him from the rough and unruly scrappy kid he was to the man adored by you and your child now.
whatever the future may bring, he wants it. he can’t wait for it. with the two of you close by his side.
“and i’m hers. i’m all hers and all yours. got me wrapped around your fingers you do.” he promises quietly, the seriousness echoing into the thick of the night — really meaning his every word.
you smile knowingly, teasingly and say. “we know.”
with you still in his arms and a kiss chastely pressed against your salt streaked lips, katsuki pulls the string for the bathroom light and trudges back to the main bedroom, a buzz of excitement for the future hangs in the air — plans for a family, for a ring remain left unsaid.
but one thing that remains for certain, is that your daughter, sweet kari, will be included in all of them. as she had been before.
akari comes knocking when the moon is up high, barely slipping through the curtains as she pads bare foot into the bedroom katsuki shares with you tonight.
“daddy?”
usually you’d be awake and on it just from the sound of her little footsteps on the hardwood floor — jumping up in that way mums do where their eyes go wide and they pant like they’ve just been revived or come up for air. though tonight, you’re too exhausted to move, the fright from earlier on in the day and the struggle to wrestle akari down for bed has you more exhausted than you’ll ever let on. but katsuki knows you, he lets you sleep. taking this new duty on.
he stirs on instinct, call it fatherly, but his body moves without thinking — he sits up, throws his arms open despite the sleep caked to the corners of his eyes and welcomes your daughter, his daughter home. “hey princess,” bakugou coos, and, as if he’s handling a fine china doll, carefully lifts the baby girl into his lap — heart trilling happily when she snuggles into the molten center of his chest. “shouldn’t you be asleep? what’cha doin’ up?”
“wanted cuddles.” she yawns, head bobbing while she fights to stay up. her chubby cheek rests squarely against the blonde’s heartbeat, she’d never be able to tell it stopped once upon a time — not with the way it dully thuds against her teeny right ear.
rhythmic like a lullaby.
katsuki nods once into the dark, tendrils of tiredness begging him to come back to bed. however, he was a child once upon a time — he too ( not that he’d ever admit it ) used to wake up in the dead of night searching for comfort. even in his teens. after he was kidnapped. after he died. she must be having bad dreams. he figures. probably from getting lost
“you didn’t want any from momma?” the hero’s leg bounces, in the way he knows comforts akari — her little curls swaying with the rhythm.
“mommy’s hands get cold.” she complains through another adorable yawn. “like your cuddles. y’warmer…”
bakugou grins at that, vermillion eyes dancing with so much love and adoration you might mistake the grumpy pro hero for someone else. he’d gone soft, he knew that, but anyone with two eyes and a brain could understand why. standing from the bed slowly, and now, shifting to stand by the window whilst bouncing a sleepy akari on his hip — he warms the palms of his hands with his quirk in an attempt to lull his baby girl back to dream land. “freezin’ aren’t they?” he whispers as he nuzzles the top of her head, gaze switching from the glittering city he protects, below — to the preciously perfect little one he now protects, in his arms. “s’okay bug, i’ll keep you warm then, right up until you fall asleep.”
“promise?”
“pinky,” the blonde confirms. “daddy’s gotcha.”
“‘mkay…” kari somehow manages to get out, the syllables slipping away from her since she’s already drifting, fist curled into bakugou’s sleep shirt. “love you, daddy.”
katsuki’s heart soars, the late night suddenly all too worth it. “love you too,” he murmurs softly, voice sweet like molten caramel as he rocks the little girl until her body relaxes with sleep. “to the moon and back, kid.”
so yeah, katsuki bakugou always been good with kids, but with this one, he swears — he’ll be even better.
end ! likes are appreciated, but just liking doesn’t do much on tumblr! to support and motivate myself and other writers, reply, reblog and comment if you'd like to see more!! — asks are open to thirsts and thoughts! join my taglist ! love you!
Theres no way Cloud can physically tell you he loves you. Hes been trying to cave and say those 3 words for months. He gets caught up in your questioning stare and sparkling eyes. Wants to tell you all the disgustingly sweet things that threaten to push past his lips. He never knows where to start or how to wrap your beauty in sounds and syllables. To make it physically known of how grateful he is of you. Can feel pressure in the back of his eyes, tears forming, if he thinks too hard about it. He'd die for you, he thinks. Wants to tell you through whispered words and written notes. Tell you how beauty can't be defined without you. So many rehearsed thoughts flitter to dust when you smile at him. Because you know
And- how is he supposed to deal with that?
Sephiroth- He knows he's never told you that he loves you. But, he's never loved anyone as much as he does you. He tells you when he's sure you're asleep. Breath evened out, eyes fluttering in dreamscape, is when he first whispers the confession into your hair. The second time is when you're turned away to do something else, he silent mouths it. Words unfamiliar, but his conviction is strong. It almost hurts to utter it. Doesnt matter how he says it, he just knows that he wants you to stay. Never wants to see you leave, wants to bare witness to every emotion that slides across your face. Watch every milestone of life pass through your eyes. Study you as age graces your features. He is unwilling to admit that maybe his expression will give something away- anything. Doesn't want what you have to end, he knows he can be a little intense sometimes. One day he'll voice it, he thinks, maybe when he hands his last report over to Shinra.
Zack- He tells you when you cry in front of him for the first time. You just had a bad day, and really, it wasnt even the worst of days. But, you came to him. You couldve been alone, but you shared your sorrows with him. So he couldn't help but blurt out a flustered "I love you" among the hiccuping coughs and gushing of tears. He's never even considered the possibility that you could become even prettier. He has to touch you now. Bringing his hands to your flushed face and pushing his forehead to yours with a shaky breath, because now, hes overwhelmed too. It also doesn't help him whatsoever, when you just give him a stunned look and cry harder, grabbing his shirt and pulling him closer. Even with his amazing hearing, he barely grasps the warbled out quick "i love you too" in his neck, but he cant imagine a more perfect moment.
gojo rolls off of you, collapsing back into the downy mattress. his cock is painfully hard — leaking and sobbing for you. his chest is flushed ruby red, spanning all the way to the tips of his ears. he can't finish. or, he's not allowed to finish. his best friend needs his turn, getting antsy with his cock in his fist,
it's an unwritten, unsealed deal. you cum, they switch. like clockwork, the second gojo rolls off you, geto takes his place.
"you're a mess." geto comments, slipping inside your wrecked pussy, the remnants of your slick and their pearly cum bubbling up in crude, nasty visuals. he has to swallow down spit, already so overcome and overstimulated. still, he takes you the only way he knows how — the only way you three have ever accepted the others.
"p-please..." you babble, face pressed to the sheets, letting them soak up your words and tears as you present yourself face-down ass-up — your wrists bound behind your back with gojo's belt. they don't like you running away, and they surely hate it when you get overwhelmed and reach back to beg for mercy. "s-s—so senst-tive."
"if you can talk, you can take more," geto replies, massaging the heated skin on your ass, comforting you in small, dumb ways that you can't chew on until after the fact, when you come down from the fucked-out space they cradle you down into.
"we know you can do it, here, mm," gojo finds it in himself to sit up, bare chest rising and falling like he just got done running a marathon. he peeks up at his best friend with fucked-out eyes, giving him a look you can't catch.
they're speaking in full sentences and sentiments without even uttering a word, because geto's thrusts pick up — punishing and fast, like he's trying to finish the job before it's truly started.
"fuck, babe—
"oh, it's so good." geto comments, tossing his head back, eye twitching as he faces the ceiling, hips slamming into your ass as he pummels you back into delicious submission.
you moan, cry, and whine their name — starting with geto, morphing into something reminiscent of gojo, then circling right back to your pleas. it feels so good that you could die, like you've ingested a drug you can never live without, again.
their passion radiating off their souls — melting into one, then separating again the second you punch out a desperate cry, makes you crazy. you're not sure you could be with other men after them, your body opening and accepting them without even trying has changed every sense of your being. you're shattered — finally ruined in their perfect image.
you turn your head at the perfect time, sucking in huge lungfuls of air once geto's fucks ease up ever so slightly. he's distracted as gojo sits up on his knees, reaching down to trace over your tear-stained cheek.
with you in the middle — caught like an elated fish about to be eaten alive, geto reaches for his best friend, his huge paw wrapping around the back of his neck. you peek up, blinking stars from your eyes as geto grounds himself inside of you, eyes slipping shut as he tugs gojo into a bruising, passionate kiss.
you can't see it, but you can hear it — the clashing of teeth, the wetness of spit and lust. their tongues fight and disagree in each other's mouths, only stopping to agree on one thing, and it's you.
I'm finally home from my little vacation and you know what that means, more RadioStatic goodness for everyone ❤️
Can't wait to show you what's been simmering in my brain.
IVE BEEN DROOLING OVER THIS ALL DAY WAY BEFORE I EVEN GOT THE ASK.....i really do need them to snatch me omfg..
I love many many yandere stsg flavors, but it ALWAYS has to be oblivious, delusional and insanely sweet, no matter the reader, they'll always believe they're doing what's best for you.
They both have equal chance of stalking you first. Either Satoru thinks you're incredibly cute and believing its just a silly little fascination, he just likes to watch you from afar after bumping into you at that one coffee shop early in the morning, its not really his fault you happen to show up wherever he has business? OR Suguru finding you in a moment of need and desperation, a situation where he as a stranger had to step in to shield you from potential harm, and it just triggers something within him and he begins to feel such visceral responsibility for you, he already does feel a sense of duty towards what is weak and defenseless or just...small..., he'd actually actively look for you though....
COULD BE BOTH AT ONCE!!!!! But i do love the idea of one of them becoming absolutely infatuated and alarming his husband, then putting him on the stalking afterwards too lol
They definitely have the power to manipulate your world in order to coax you closer and closer to them, they wouldn't hurt you tho. I think whats more their style would be luring you into their home after fostering a friendship then never letting you out again... "why dont you stay for dinner?" "Its late, we'll drop you off first thing in the morning" "oh your boss called to let you know no work today? Hmmm..how odd, oh! Seems muffins are ready!" "Why dont you stay for the weekend, we're having a wonderful time aren't we?" And then it turns into more borderline threatening/intimidating responses TT disappointed stares, kiiinddddd of reprimanding, 'That’s weird, why do you want to leave?' Energy. I wouldn't say they're trying to gaslight you bcuz........ they believe the lie as well LMFAO
Then the "call me this and call me that" starts, it makes complete sense tho doesn't it? They nurture and take care of you, deep down it just feels so right. Before you know it its exclusively mommy and daddy now, and its something they reinforce with rewrads and gentle reprimand, like you're being trained .. isn't that fun...
They strip you of your privacy of course, they monitor the fuck out of you just very very smothering, coddling, all under the pretense of worry and protection tho, because "we don't keep secrets, do we sweetie?" But they will be trying to merge with you TAT its very overwhelming (In a less toxic dynamic they might SUBCONSCIOUSLY frame this much openness as the rite of passage into their relationship TvT)
But yeah, they're very patronizing TvT still give you a lot of passes fully believing you're being silly and not knowing what's good for you...... HONESTLY......you should just be okay with it as crazy as it sounds LMAOOO, be their little pampered cat. I think they do very very well with a willing....captive? TAT
The fastest way into Satoru’s wallet pants heart... wallet, is a trick you learned from Suguru early on in your relationship with them.
You keep refreshing the tab on your phone hoping to see the price tag come down on the item of your desires but if anything it feels like it’s only going up, up, up and out of your grasp. You sigh and lock your phone, setting it in front of you on the mattress. You bury your head in your arms, letting go of the dream of owning the illusive item.
Strong hands grip your hips and flip you onto your back, Suguru’s playful expression engulfing your view as he lays on top of you. His face falls when yours doesn’t light up, asking you gently, “What’s wrong?”
“It’s dumb,” you say, shaking your head.
“It’s not dumb if you’re upset. Tell me.” His expression is so soft, so gentle that all you can do is sigh again and confess, showing him the listing on your phone.
“Ask Satoru.” Suguru makes it sound so simple.
Your cheeks heat at the idea of it alone. Realistically, you know you can ask him for anything and he’d happily give it. The insane price tag is what holds you back. There is no way you could ask for something that expensive.
“I can’t.”
“You can.” Suguru sits up at your hesitation, his knees on either side of your hips. “Listen, he’s just a man with a stupid amount of money and what do men with a stupid amount of money like to do? Spend it on pretty things.” He leans forward, his face in yours again to press a kiss to your jaw as he whispers, “That’s us.”
“I can’t,” you repeat, tilting your head away to get a better view of the man sitting on top of you.
Suguru rolls his eyes and huffs. “Do you want it?”
“Not tha-”
“Do you want it?”
“I don’t need it.”
“I didn’t ask if you need it. Yes or no, do you want it?” He raises his eyebrows, making a poor attempt at not smiling while he waits for your answer.
You swallow down your shame, avoiding eye contact as you admit, “yes,” through gritted teeth.
“See, that wasn’t so hard.” He presses a kiss to your lips and stands.
You push yourself up on your elbows and watch him free his hair from the bun he keeps it in, long hair falling over his shoulders and down his back. You gulp when his shirt comes off next, nothing you haven’t seen before but god, he’s fucking breathtaking.
6’3 of lean muscle, raven locks down to his waist, sharp jawline and cheekbones.
The kind of beauty that wars have been fought over.
Suguru takes your hand and pulls you to your feet.
“Let me show you how to charm the man who has the money,” he says, guiding you down the hallway and into the living room where Satoru sits on the couch, lost in whatever’s displayed on his phone screen.
You lean against the living room wall, observing the way Suguru moves across the room to settle into Satoru’s lap. He plucks Satoru’s phone from his hand and tosses it to the other cushion, commanding his attention. Satoru’s face blushes a bright, pretty pink as he takes in the sight of Suguru and all of his raw sex appeal.
“Toru, baby,” Suguru purrs, pressing himself closer to Satoru, guiding his hands to his waist. “I need your credit card.”
“Mmm, yeah?” Satoru hums, his hands roaming over Suguru’s sides and around his back to lock him in place. His pupils are already swallowing his irises, glazed over by lust. “What for?”
Suguru cages him against the back of the couch, his hair falling in a curtain around them. He rolls his hips down into Satoru’s just to hear him choke on the air he tries to suck in when their dicks brush; they’re only half hard but it’s enough. “That doesn’t really matter, does it?”
“You’re gonna bleed me dry, gorgeous.” Satoru surges up to plant his lips on Suguru’s, just for Suguru to pull back.
“Who says it’s for me?” Their eyes turn to you, still leaning against the wall. You swallow thickly, feeling blood rush to your cheeks. Satoru chuckles and returns his attention to Suguru, attempting to bring their lips together again. Suguru grabs his jaw before they can connect, just barely letting them brush when he says, “Ah- card first.”
Your clit throbs watching the interaction, completely hypnotized by Suguru the same way Satoru is. You’re pulled out of your trance and forward by Suguru holding out a little silver piece of plastic to you that you take too long to realize is Satoru’s card.
You stumble over your own feet on you way to the couch, gingerly taking the card from Suguru’s out stretched hand. You whisper a ‘thank you,’ and you’re not even sure who you’re thanking or what for, but you press a kiss to Suguru’s cheek regardless as his tongue explores Satoru’s mouth.
You turn to head back to the bedroom and enter the digits on the card into your phone on a somewhat questionable website, only to be stopped by Satoru’s hand grabbing your wrist.
When you turn back to face him, Suguru is leaving open mouthed kisses over his jaw and neck, his chest heaving as he pushes his hips up into Suguru’s.
“At least kiss me before you rob me blind.” He smirks up at you, eyes half lidded. His mouth falls open around a deep moan when Suguru finds a particularly sensitive stretch of skin, and there’s that throb in your clit again.
Your breathing is becoming just as uneven as Satoru’s. You sit next to them, your knees tucked under you and lean forward, your lips capturing Satoru’s.
“Thank you, Toru,” you whisper against his lips when you part.
The fastest way into Satoru’s wallet pants heart... wallet, is a trick you learned from Suguru early on in your relationship with them.
You keep refreshing the tab on your phone hoping to see the price tag come down on the item of your desires but if anything it feels like it’s only going up, up, up and out of your grasp. You sigh and lock your phone, setting it in front of you on the mattress. You bury your head in your arms, letting go of the dream of owning the illusive item.
Strong hands grip your hips and flip you onto your back, Suguru’s playful expression engulfing your view as he lays on top of you. His face falls when yours doesn’t light up, asking you gently, “What’s wrong?”
“It’s dumb,” you say, shaking your head.
“It’s not dumb if you’re upset. Tell me.” His expression is so soft, so gentle that all you can do is sigh again and confess, showing him the listing on your phone.
“Ask Satoru.” Suguru makes it sound so simple.
Your cheeks heat at the idea of it alone. Realistically, you know you can ask him for anything and he’d happily give it. The insane price tag is what holds you back. There is no way you could ask for something that expensive.
“I can’t.”
“You can.” Suguru sits up at your hesitation, his knees on either side of your hips. “Listen, he’s just a man with a stupid amount of money and what do men with a stupid amount of money like to do? Spend it on pretty things.” He leans forward, his face in yours again to press a kiss to your jaw as he whispers, “That’s us.”
“I can’t,” you repeat, tilting your head away to get a better view of the man sitting on top of you.
Suguru rolls his eyes and huffs. “Do you want it?”
“Not tha-”
“Do you want it?”
“I don’t need it.”
“I didn’t ask if you need it. Yes or no, do you want it?” He raises his eyebrows, making a poor attempt at not smiling while he waits for your answer.
You swallow down your shame, avoiding eye contact as you admit, “yes,” through gritted teeth.
“See, that wasn’t so hard.” He presses a kiss to your lips and stands.
You push yourself up on your elbows and watch him free his hair from the bun he keeps it in, long hair falling over his shoulders and down his back. You gulp when his shirt comes off next, nothing you haven’t seen before but god, he’s fucking breathtaking.
6’3 of lean muscle, raven locks down to his waist, sharp jawline and cheekbones.
The kind of beauty that wars have been fought over.
Suguru takes your hand and pulls you to your feet.
“Let me show you how to charm the man who has the money,” he says, guiding you down the hallway and into the living room where Satoru sits on the couch, lost in whatever’s displayed on his phone screen.
You lean against the living room wall, observing the way Suguru moves across the room to settle into Satoru’s lap. He plucks Satoru’s phone from his hand and tosses it to the other cushion, commanding his attention. Satoru’s face blushes a bright, pretty pink as he takes in the sight of Suguru and all of his raw sex appeal.
“Toru, baby,” Suguru purrs, pressing himself closer to Satoru, guiding his hands to his waist. “I need your credit card.”
“Mmm, yeah?” Satoru hums, his hands roaming over Suguru’s sides and around his back to lock him in place. His pupils are already swallowing his irises, glazed over by lust. “What for?”
Suguru cages him against the back of the couch, his hair falling in a curtain around them. He rolls his hips down into Satoru’s just to hear him choke on the air he tries to suck in when their dicks brush; they’re only half hard but it’s enough. “That doesn’t really matter, does it?”
“You’re gonna bleed me dry, gorgeous.” Satoru surges up to plant his lips on Suguru’s, just for Suguru to pull back.
“Who says it’s for me?” Their eyes turn to you, still leaning against the wall. You swallow thickly, feeling blood rush to your cheeks. Satoru chuckles and returns his attention to Suguru, attempting to bring their lips together again. Suguru grabs his jaw before they can connect, just barely letting them brush when he says, “Ah- card first.”
Your clit throbs watching the interaction, completely hypnotized by Suguru the same way Satoru is. You’re pulled out of your trance and forward by Suguru holding out a little silver piece of plastic to you that you take too long to realize is Satoru’s card.
You stumble over your own feet on you way to the couch, gingerly taking the card from Suguru’s out stretched hand. You whisper a ‘thank you,’ and you’re not even sure who you’re thanking or what for, but you press a kiss to Suguru’s cheek regardless as his tongue explores Satoru’s mouth.
You turn to head back to the bedroom and enter the digits on the card into your phone on a somewhat questionable website, only to be stopped by Satoru’s hand grabbing your wrist.
When you turn back to face him, Suguru is leaving open mouthed kisses over his jaw and neck, his chest heaving as he pushes his hips up into Suguru’s.
“At least kiss me before you rob me blind.” He smirks up at you, eyes half lidded. His mouth falls open around a deep moan when Suguru finds a particularly sensitive stretch of skin, and there’s that throb in your clit again.
Your breathing is becoming just as uneven as Satoru’s. You sit next to them, your knees tucked under you and lean forward, your lips capturing Satoru’s.
“Thank you, Toru,” you whisper against his lips when you part.
