#THE MOST TENDER LOOK ON KATSUKI’S FACE EVER TOO

[bakudekublogblog]

EVERY TIME I THINK OF THIS PANEL I GO A LITTLE MORE INSANE. THE BEGINNING. THE BEGINNING OF WHAT?? wonder duo era?? hero partners bakudeku?? their marriage?? their eyes meet across the battle field and something BEGINS??? HORI LET ME IN I JUST WANNA TALK

[gardenofnoah]

baby was born all wrong

remember this drabble?? yeah....

wc: 2.7k

tags: MDNI, smut, brat tamer bkg, gn reader, afab body parts named, pet names (“baby”, “sweetheart”), oral (reader receiving), fingering, toy use, dubcon just to be safe (but not really)

you don’t know why you’re like this. truly, you’d be better if you could.

most days you are. with a little thought behind it, you can be sweet. tender, even. receptive to love and care and able to give it right back.

but there are some days when you wake up and you just… can’t. there’s a synapse that’s short-circuited, or something, and all you know how to do is bare your teeth and snap them at every soft touch that comes too close. you try to squash the feeling down and it makes it worse. you just want to hurt. you want to destroy. you want to get it back threefold.

today is one of those days.

you’re sure katsuki can tell. it’s not like you’re hiding it, with the way you snap at him when he comes up behind you in the kitchen as you’re making tea.

“get off of me,” you grumble, not turning to look at him. you swear you feel the ghost of a smile on his lips against your shoulder before he retreats without a response. you feel the anger fizzle in your gut and try to return to the task at hand.

the day goes on similarly—snapping at him for every wrong movement, and getting more irritated when his only reaction is a small, knowing smile. it’s infuriating—you don’t understand why the ever-feared and perpetually combative Dynamight is tolerating the way you’re acting.

“what is wrong with you?” you ask through your exasperation, throwing your hands up. he only raises an eyebrow at you from his spot on the couch. the anger creeps farther up your neck and you feel its burn. “why aren’t you saying anything?”

that irritating smile is back on his face. “because you want me to.”

you scowl at him, feeling your rage mix with something like shame. at once you understand—he only considers you to be a nuisance. something that can be ignored.

it only spurs you on.

“oh, i apologize. i should not have assumed that my partner was man enough to stand up for himself.”

the smirk on his face tells you that he’s amused—and unwilling to take the bait. it makes you feel fucking crazy—you just want him to get in your face and scream like you know he can. it would feel so much better than whatever this is—this one sided battle that you’ve created and are trying so hard to win.

you stomp into the kitchen, grumbling to yourself, making sure it’s loud enough for him to hear. you get so wrapped up in slamming the cupboards that you don’t hear him approach until his full weight is pressed against your back. he reaches for the countertop with both hands, effectively trapping you against it.

“you’re gonna piss off the neighbors with all your noise.”

“get the fuck off me, katsuki,” you snap, thrashing against his hold. he doesn’t budge. your teeth grind together painfully. he hums, light and amused.

“why? my baby clearly wants attention.”

“i don’t want anything from you—”

he only chuckles, pressing you further into the counter. you feel him now—rock hard against your backside. your lips curl back into a snarl.

“sure ya do,” he says, voice low in your ear, “you’ve been beggin’ for it all day. that’s what this is, right? why you’ve been mouthin’ off to me like you are? just tell me what you need, sweetheart.”

you feel like an animal caught in a trap. your eyes dart around for a space you can squeeze out of, but his massive frame is everywhere around you. you try to squeeze under his arm to get away from him, but his hips press you forward again, pushing until you’re bent over the counter. you try to stand up, but you feel the heat of his palm wrap around the nape of your neck, keeping you still with your chest pressed to the wood.

at his display of strength, your resolve falters—you feel your edges start to dull and soften and you want to relax in his hold—but you fight to keep up your petulance, even if it’s only for show now.

“i don’t fuck pathetic men,” you spit, only it’s not nearly as harsh as you want it to sound.

katsuki snorts behind you. you feel the weight of him across your back when he leans over you.

“that’s fine,” you can hear the grin on his lips as they brush the space under your ear, “i don’t fuck mouthy little brats.”

he keeps his hand around your neck as he stands again, keeping you pinned as his other hand roams down your body. you feel it slip under the waist band of your pants, and then under the hem of your underwear.

“i just fucking told you—“

“weird,” he cuts you off, his tone nothing but smug, “you’re soaking wet.”

you can feel the way your body betrays you as he plays with you—his fingertips slip through your folds freely and you press your forehead into the counter, mentally willing yourself not to react. you feel him spread you open with his first and third finger, and the calloused tip of his middle brushes over your clit softly, sending hot bolts of electricity up your spine. he draws lazy circles over the aching bud with barely there pressure and you can’t stop the whine that rumbles through you.

“i think you’re a liar,” his voice is deep and dangerous in your ear and you shudder underneath him. you can practically hear how it strokes his ego, but you find yourself caring less and less with every passing second. “i think you do this because you want me t’be rough with you.”

he doesn’t let you respond—he just presses down a little harder and adds another finger as he strokes you, letting your clit glide snugly between his first and middle fingers with every pass. you bite down on your forearm to keep from moaning. you can feel yourself soaking his hand and ruining your underwear. the knowledge of that has your hips kicking up into his palm, searching for more pressure, more friction. he clicks his tongue at you, pulling his hand out of your pants.

you squeeze your eyes shut, biting down on the plea that threatens to shatter the last bit of your facade. the only part of you that still feels the need to keep it up is your pride.

“i would’ve ruined you if you’d asked me to,” he murmurs, voice laced with something pitying and a little mean, “but this ain’t the way you ask.”

his still soiled fingers reach to cup your sex through your pants, and you feel filthy in a way that has you panting, breath leaving condensation on the cool wood top. he tightens his grip around your neck for only a fleeting, delicious second and then everything stops. he pulls away from you, and you feel too cold and boneless, still bent over the counter.

“what’s wrong, baby?” he asks, all patronizing as he watches behind you, “thought you didn’t fuck pathetic men.”

your eyes burn. all of your anger is gone—replaced with white hot embarrassment and an all encompassing need.

“katsuki,” you sniffle, squeezing your eyes shut tight, “please, i need you—“

“now you need me?” he asks softly, closer now. you feel his fingertips ghost up your spine and you shudder. “thought you didn’t want anything from me.”

the way he’s too gentle feels violent somehow. tears well up in your eyes and you shake your head as best you can.

“i’m sorry,” you say, breath quickening with equal parts lust, shame, and a little panic at the thought that he may really not touch you, “didn’t mean it, kat, m’sorry—”

“shh,” his finger brush over the nape of your neck to tangle in your hair, scratching lightly at the base of your scalp. you shake like a leaf underneath him. “i know baby. y’just don’t know how to ask, hm?”

you can only whine, leaning into his touch. if the counter wasn’t bearing half your weight, you think you would’ve sunk to the floor by now. your pride has left you completely, and in such a short time—you feel such whiplash at the way katsuki holds so much power over you when you were sure you possessed all of it only a minute ago.

you know you have already given all of it to him to keep safe. even when you don’t want him to.

“tell me what you want, baby,” he mumurs, leaning down to press gentle kisses to the back of your neck.

“want you to hurt me,” you sniffle. you know you have to look pitiful. katsuki chuckles behind you.

“that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

you bite down on a retort, choosing to remain pliant.

“can’t have you mouthing off to me though,” he says, lips brushing your skin, “so m’not doing that.”

you immediately protest, twisting underneath him to look at him. his hand tightens in your hair, immobilizing you.

“you’re not goin’ anywhere,” he warns. “you’re gonna be good and take what i give you.”

dread seeps across your nerves but you stay still when he releases your hair. he presses gentle kisses down the length of your spine through your shirt. you feel them like they’re bruises sucked into the skin.

his fingers hook into your waistband and tug down, taking your pants and underwear with them. you shiver at the exposure, but comply when he prompts you to spread your legs wider.

“pretty little thing,” he murmurs, brushing the back of a knuckle over your soaked folds. “s’a shame that mouth is so mean.”

“m’sorry kat,” you babble, tears burning your eyes again at his teasing and your shame, “m’ sorry, m’sorry—”

you nearly come out of your skin when he sinks to his knees and you feel the wet heat of his tongue slide over your sex. it’s too soft and he knows it—his hands reach up to hold your hips from bucking backwards as he suckles on your clit.

you know better than to ask for anything more. you drop your forehead to your arms and let the tears flow as he explores to his content. you whimper when you feel the prod of his tongue inside you.

he lets out a groan as you squeeze around him. you feel the tip of the muscle explore the wet softness of your walls and fight to keep yourself from sinking down and taking it deeper.

he leaves you empty and aching as his tongue drags back up to your clit. he teases it with alternating, soft kitten licks and gentle, pulsating sucks until it’s swollen and twitching in time with the rapid flutter of your heart.

“my poor baby,” he coos in between sloppy kisses to the aching nub, “looks like it hurts.”

you let out a broken sob as he pulls it between his lips again, flicking his tongue over the tip. you nearly scream when you feel him tease your swollen heat with the tip of his finger.

he sinks in to the first knuckle, letting out a curse at the way you suck him in. he pulls away from your clit to watch your body swallow what he gives it.

“p-please” you gasp, half out of your mind with need, “your mouth, baby, please—“

“no,” he breathes through a grin, pressing a kiss to the back of your thigh, “brats don’t get to cum.”

you sob out another string of apologies as he sinks inside you to the hilt. his thick finger fills you up but not enough.

“that’s it,” he groans when you clamp down on him, “keep suckin’ me back in.”

he doesn’t fuck you with any particular rhythm or force, and it leaves you a slurring, crying mess at his mercy, draped over the counter top. you feel your slick roll down your thighs in beaded drops. if he only fucked you a little harder, and just a little faster—

he pulls his finger from you, and you immediately protest, legs nearly buckling as you turn to him.

“shh,” he whispers again, gathering you in his arms and bending down to kiss the corner of your mouth, “you’re okay baby.”

his hands cradle your face and he brushes your tears from your cheeks with both thumbs, smiling at you softly. it brings them back immediately.

“katsuki,” you croak, grabbing at his shirt with both hands, “please.”

he hums softly, bringing you into his chest. “you gonna be good for me?”

you nod emphatically, making him chuckle.

“good. want you to make yourself cum.”

your eyes go wide and you look up at him, already shaking your head. you need him—you need—

“hey,” he calls to you gently, redirecting your spiral, “you make yourself cum now and i’ll be as rough as y’want me to be tomorrow. anythin’ you need.”

you shiver in his arms, already anticipating his promise. after a moment, you shakily agree, albeit with a little trepidation.

“there ya go,” he coos, pressing a warm kiss to your temple. “go pick a toy and get in bed.”

less than 5 minutes later you find yourself under the scrutiny of his gaze, legs spread wide as you lay on your belly with your favorite suction toy pulsing away on your clit. you feel the bed dip as he crawls over you, hovering on all fours in the spaces left by your own limbs. he bends down to nip at the junction between your shoulder and neck. you let out a whimper when his tongue laves over the bite.

you grind your hips down into the mattress, pushing the toy harder into your clit. you feel a little drop of arousal roll from your sloppy little hole to where the toy is, making it slick.

you reach back to sink your own fingers inside you, but you can’t reach deep enough for it to feel good with the toy in the way. you whine in frustration, pressing down harder onto the source of the pulsating pressure.

“what’s the matter baby?” katsuki coos, smoothing a warm palm over the curve of your ass, “can’t reach?”

you sniff, shaking your head pitifully against the sheets. “can’t do it kat.”

he tuts at you, rubbing the inside of your thigh soothingly. “guess i can help ya a little.”

your mouth drops open when you feel two thick fingers slip slowly inside you. he fills you to the hilt and you whine when he doesn’t move.

“you gotta do the rest, sweetheart,” he chuckles.

you whine in protest but do what he says, snapping your hips in a strange and disjointed semi circle to chase the dual simulation. he murmurs soft praises as you fuck yourself on his fingers, squeezing him tightly with every pulse around your sensitive clit.

“that’s it baby,” he praises, “you’re right there, huh? can feel you squeezin’ me.”

“please, please—” you babble, trembling all over, just out of reach of your release, “m’gonna cum, i promise—“

“such a sweet little thing. s’all you needed, hm? just needed to fuck the brat outta ya?”

you nod pitifully, so so close.

“go ahead then, baby. be good a cum all over my fingers.”

you sink down on them at an angle that sends his fingertips right where you need them and it sends you over the edge. you press your face into the pillow, crying out as you tremble with every wave of release that washes over you. he keeps you plugged up with his fingers, letting out a low curse as you clamp down on him. the suction of the toy prolongs your high, fluttering against your clit until it hurts. you whine and reach down to switch off the toy.

katsuki reaches up to smooth his palm over the small of your back, pulling his fingers from you slowly and making you shiver. he grabs the toy from underneath you and leans over to set it on the nightstand. crawling back up to you, he lays on his side and pulls you into his chest.

“i’m sorry i was mean,” you whisper, feeling more vulnerable now. the shame settles over you like a thick blanket and it feels suffocating.

his hand smooths over your hair, cradling the back of your head. you feel the chuckle rumble in his chest.

“did y’wake up wrong or what?”

you press your face further into his chest. “think so.”

he leans down to press a kiss to your temple. “s’alright baby. i like you mean.”

[willowser]

katsuki jumps, startlingly, when you rub a hand up his back.

he's leaned too far down, bent over the counter at an angle that will give him an ache he'll complain about later, and his head whips up as you come to stand beside him. an e-mail on his phone is what previously had his full attention, but now he looks at you, eyes softening as you lean into his shoulder.

he's never been a very touchy guy. even after a year into your relationship, it's most often you reaching for his hand as you walk down the street; you pressing a kiss into his cheek while watching a movie on the couch; you running a hand through his hair as his breath steadies out beside you in bed.

it's not something you really complain about. you know how he is, knew before anything developed between the two of you, and you can't say it's a deal-breaker. there's little you know about his previous relationships or if he even had any, but you have the painful-gut feeling that affection just isn't something he's used to.

you press a smile into the sleeve of his shirt and his spine relaxes under your hand, finds that awful curve again. he watches you like he's waiting for something, tracing the tender details of your face.

"love you," you say, because do and you want to voice it aloud, put it into his mind even though you know he knows. as expected, his lips flatten into a wavering little line, shy suddenly, and your teeth wet the fabric of his shirt when you smile.

all you get is a little grunt in response and he dips his chin down in a wordless nod, accepting your lovey-dovey assault. it makes him feel a little helpless, you know, but you bring up an arm to wrap around him as he turns back to his phone, ears pink.

katsuki straightens with a dull pop!, stretching his arms up and allowing you to shuffle closer, so that your head is resting on his chest. you press your ear to it and wait, eyes closed, until the heavy promise of his heartbeat echoes like a drum in your ear. it's loud, and after a moment, your own falls into sync, right where it belongs.

"'s'wrong?"

"hm?" you glance up at him, the frown on his pink face, before breathing in the clean scent of his laundry soap. your laundry soap. and then you shake your head. "nothin'. just missed you."

"been home all day."

"i know," you sigh, letting your eyes fall shut again. the sound of his phone locking clicks and you can feel the slight down-slide of his sweatpants when he pockets it. "sometimes i miss you even though you're right here."

you expect — something; another grunt or laugh through his nose, a raspy little noise that voices his confusion. things like this can be hard for him; you know how he is, knew before anything ever developed between the two of you — but you don't think it makes him any less deserving.

katsuki steps back from you a little, and you feel the hesitant rise of his arm before you feel it. his hand comes up to your face — pink and scarred in your peripheral vision — and he tilts your head up, waits until you open your eyes.

when you do, it looks as if a million things are running through his head. his poker-face is good, it has to be, but you can see little bits of his vulnerability shining through. you wonder how long it's been since he showed it to anybody. he almost looks sad.

katsuki squeezes your cheeks until your lips pucker, and his frown deepens when you laugh. "y're so...damn weird."

that's along the lines of what you were anticipating: one of his teasing little insults, warm with a fire he's still learning how to kindle. you don't get the chance to say anything before he's kissing you, eyes shut tight, lashes brushing against your own.

you expect something soft, because affection is a fickle thing, from him — but his hand never falls from your face and his tongue is sliding with yours suddenly, a heated gesture that throws your heart out of whack. you let him kiss you as deeply as he can, until your back arches painfully backward over the counter as he leans into you.

when he pulls away, his lips are a little swollen and his cheeks are burning, as he presses one into yours. "i—jus'—" katsuki tries and then abandons it, a hand curling into the material of your shirt. "i get it." he murmurs, there, into the heated skin of your face, heart beating in time with yours.

things like this are hard with him — but he makes them so, so worth it.

[bakubunny]

you can’t get off during sex: how they respond

Katsuki || Eijiro

fem!reader

tags: smut, smut hcs, free use, sexual frustration, hurt/comfort, aged-up characters

Katsuki

refuses to let it go every time unless you explicitly ask to be done because he knows he can get you there… and you know he can too.

gets angry at the mere suggestion that you might be a burden, “really, it’s okay to stop, Kats,” and pulls you out of that mindset real fucking quick with a kiss that makes your head spin. he won’t allow it.

accepts that sometimes the frustration is too much, and holds you while you cry… before he tries again moments after you’ve calmed down and makes you see stars in five minutes flat.

indulges your interest in free use mostly because he loves the way you melt when he fucks you even if you don’t cum, but frequently likes to posit that, “i’m still fucking using you if i only want to see you cum. you’re too pretty not to watch, angel.”

he is determined to give you what you deserve (if that’s what you want) and will accept nothing less.

Katsuki grabs you by the face. “I don’t fucking care how long it takes. You are going to cum whether you say you can or not.”

“But-”

“But nothing. Do you still wanna cum?” he asks, fire in his eyes.

“Yeah…” you reply.

“And if I wanted to stop, do you really think I wouldn’t tell you?” he said.

“I mean….” Your eyes wander away from him as your voice trails off.

Katsuki’s grip around your face tightens and his voice lowers.

“Look at me. I wanna make you cum so hard you can’t fuckin’ think, and I’m not gonna stop until you do. Are we clear?”

Eijiro

so sweet and patient. he is determined to make you shake in his arms because it’s “the most un-manly thing ever” to leave his partner sad or unsatisfied.

talks you out of your frustration in the moment. he reminds you that your body is perfect, not broken. it hurts him to know you feel that way, so he tells you any chance he gets.

gets you to smile and laugh as a way of pulling you back into a headspace where he can love you into a shaky little mess… mostly because it turns him on so much to see you happy and hear your laughter.

will let it go if you’re sure you want to stop trying, but he always offers later, usually with success. “see, baby? you just needed a little extra love tonight, and you know i love to give it,” he says with a cheesy wink and a smile.

so. much. praise. especially once you finish. he treats you like you hung the sun in the sky just by existing, but the truth is that he’s your sunshine, and every minute spent with him is a reminder of that.

You feel yourself becoming frantic as you chase your release, your hand on your clit while he fingers you, and a dissatisfied whimper slips out.

“Hey hey hey, slow down baby. What’s wrong? Are you getting frustrated?” Eijiro asks as he cups your face in his free hand.

His thrust softens and slows to a stop, his fingers still inside you. You nod as tears prick your eyes at his gentleness.

“Aww, sweetheart, it’s okay. You’re doing so well, princess. I’ll get you there, I promise,” he says with a smile before giving you a tender kiss.

“But it’s taking so long, it’s got to be frustrating. How are you not tired?” you say foolishly, knowing the truth but feeling overwhelmed as tears stain your cheeks.

Eijiro looks at you like you’ve grown another head for a split second, and it brings a smile to your lips.

“Baby. I’m a pro hero. Your pro hero. Is this tiring for me?” he asks.

His smile makes you laugh a little at your assumptions. He wipes your tears away.

“Noo…” you reply sheepishly.

“Okay then. I want to make you feel so fucking good. I want you to cum for me. Will you let me love you the way you deserve to be loved?” he says.

You pull him in for a long kiss, and Eijiro slowly starts pumping his fingers into you again, making you whimper. He breaks the kiss for a moment.

“Hmm? I wanna hear it from your pretty lips, princess,” he says softly.

“Yes, Eijiro,” you whisper. “Please don’t stop.”

banners created by the lovely @cafekitsune.

[delirious-donna]

Tender Care [Katsuki Bakugou]

an: this is super self-indulgent but I really needed this tonight. It’s more self-insert than I’ve ever written although it’s still written as a generic female reader

prompt: Bakugou cares for his S/O who has a very painful new tattoo

pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x female reader

warnings: fluff, fluff and more fluff, really none at all, maybe tattoo aftercare?, Katsuki just being the best damn boy, all characters aged up to over 25

Masterlist

“Does it hurt?”

Curious vermillion eyes stared into the depths of yours, a frown creased his brow. His rough hands, thick with callouses, gripped your upper arms with tender care.

Katsuki spun you so he could look at the new ink that adorns your skin. It’s covered with a clear sheet of plastic wrap, but it looks amazing. He took his time eyeing each little detail, and he had to stop himself from reaching out to trace the crisp linework with his finger.

“It was really painful Kat,” you sniffled, trying to twist around to see his face.

A shallow huff passed through his nose, frown deepening whilst he let you wrap your arms around his waist, warm cheek nestled into his strong chest.

He abhorred seeing you like this; your expression clouded with pain that showed in how your eyes tightened, little lines scrunched up above your nose and your lips tipped down into a deep frown.

“C’mon baby, let’s get it unwrapped and cleaned up.”

Katsuki’s fingers entwined with your own, pulling you behind him and towards the bathroom. You perched on the edge of the counter, turning once more to let your boyfriend work.

You studied his reflection in the mirror, ash blond hair that fell in that perfect “I just rolled out of bed” style that actually took a good thirty minutes each morning to achieve and blazing irises that narrowed as he worked.

Despite how battle-hardened his hands may be, Kat is nothing other than the most gentle with you as he peels away the sticky tape holding the wrap in place. Watching him work is hypnotic; how methodical he is in disposing of the soiled plastic, washing his hands thoroughly before dabbing at your tender tattoo with a barely damp linen cloth.

The water is warm enough that it soothes the raw skin edging the design, and you can’t help but hum in appreciation at how caring Katsuki was. The man who was known by the media as being this gruff, quick-to-aggression pro-hero, but very few saw beneath the veil. It was a coping mechanism, a device to keep people at arm’s length but you had wormed into his sensitive heart and now you called it home.

“This from that shitty show you love so much?” he grunted, nodding at the striking piece he was busy tending to.

“Yes, and it’s not shitty Kat!”

“Yeah yeah,” he groused. The blond stood back to admire his handiwork, tilting his head this way and that. It was obvious he was impressed with the piece and just didn’t want to admit it outright.

“Look at you, ‘Mr I Don’t Wanna Admit I Like The Show Too’. That’s not the attitude you have when I threaten to watch an episode without you. You pout like a baby.” You giggled at the rose tint to coat at the tips of his ears, the very obvious way he averted his gaze and the jut of his jaw. You had him and he knew it.

He allowed you to cup his face, pulling him into your body where his hands anchored on either side of the marble countertop. Your thumbs traced across his angular jaw, moving to smooth away the wrinkles of annoyance on his handsome face.

Caramel invaded your nose, the scent that was sweet with a salty tang never failed to wrap you up in such a warming embrace. His lips were soft, tentative almost as you kissed him. Fingers slid into his spiky hair that always surprised you by how soft it was.

The kiss was gentle, slow and leisurely as you tasted one another. Lost in the sensation of being reunited after only a day apart, and overwhelmed by how caring he had been.

A moan sounded from Kat’s throat as his mouth slanted atop your own. The kiss deepened, his tongue licked into your mouth on a moan of your own and he seized the opportunity with both hands.

Your body pressed flush against the wall of muscle that was your man, his palms finally shifted to grip at your hips and tug you closer.

A wince had Katsuki pulling back. The wet disconnect of your parting lips made a whine of frustration crawl from your throat. He gazed down at you and noted how your eyes glazed over but there it was - the discomfort that continued to crowd your expression.

He groaned quietly, forehead coming to rest against yours.

“Baby, let’s get you some Tylenol. We’ll grab some snacks and watch some of your shitty show, sound good?”

You pouted dramatically. “But Kat,” you whined, “you could make me feel so much better.”

Katsuki was done with your nonsense.

Without further word he scooped you into his arms and marched from the bathroom. You were deposited heavily onto the plush sofa in the living area with a kiss pressed to the top of your head.

“Be a good girl and do as I say, take the painkillers and relax with me. If you can do all that, without complaint,” he added quickly as your mouth popped open to argue, “then we’ll see if I can make you forget about the pain.”

Katsuki really was the best boyfriend you could ask for…

[ijustlikebnhaandbakugou]

Katsuki's Healthy Habit Reminders

(Special edition 2)

Day Twelve.

(Warning: Cussing)

Oi! Dumbass!

When's the last fucking time you had a decent homecooked meal!?

If your answer is not some fucking point within the last week, then...

GET UP! CAUSE WE'RE COOKING SOMETHING FOR YA' TODAY, IDIOT!!!

*Just fucking drags you into the kitchen and makes you stand in front of the counter next to him*

Alright, dumbass! We're gonna be cooking some curried chicken thighs today! Its a fucking simple recipe that even an idiot like you should be able to follow without fucking it up too much!

*begins pulling out the ingredients for the "fucking simple" recipe*

□□□□□

Ingredients needed for this recipe:

vegetable oil

butter

6 chicken thighs

Salt and pepper

onions

curry powder

cayenne

cinnamon

cumin

carrots, peeled and sliced on diagonal

low sodium chicken stock

broccoli florets

heavy cream

frozen peas

Cooked basmati rice for serving

□□□□

Okay, dumbass, first thing we're gonna do is season the fucking chicken thighs with salt and pepper. I usually put more pepper than salt to give 'em more of a kick, but do whatever the fuck you want! (a.k.a. season to taste)

Now we're gonna pour about 2 tablespoons (tbsp) of the vegetable oil in a fucking large skillet (or large pan) and we're gonna heat it up over the stove and stir in 1 tablespoon of butter.

Place the fucking chicken thighs in the oil and butter mix, the skin side of the damn bird should be facing down in the skillet. Cook until the chicken turns fucking golden in color! Then flip the chicken and continue until it looks almost fucking identical to the other side in color! Now remove the chicken from then fucking skillet and set it aside on a damn plate for later.

Now, we're gonna chop up an onion and measure out about one cup and place them in the damn skillet then fucking stir them around, and cook the onion until it becomes fucking tender. Then, we're gonna add in 3 teaspoons (Tsp) of curry powder, ½ a teaspoon of cayenne seasoning, 1 teaspoon of cinnamon, and 1 fucking teaspoon of cumin. Cook the spices and onion together until their aromas are released into the fucking kitchen air.

Then, toss in 2 carrots, peeled and sliced diagonally, so that the damn thing coats the top of the mix. Then add in 1½ cups of the fucking chicken stock, remember to fucking stir the food!!! And bring up the heat to a damn simmer!

Once that's done, you can add the chicken thighs into the skillet and sauce-like mixture. Then add in 1 cup of broccoli florets and cover the food and let it simmer for 15 minutes. This ensures that everything, especially the fucking chicken, is thoroughly cooked!

After the 15 minutes are over, uncover the damn food and stir in ¼ cup of heavy cream and ¾ cup of the peas, let cook until the peas are fucking cooked thoroughly!

(You can tell if the peas are cooked thoroughly by grabbing a fork and picking out one of the peas and trying it. The peas should be soft if they're done. If they aren't, they probably need a few more minutes [like maybe 5 minutes at most] of cook time)

Add in whatever other fucking seasonings you want and serve (aka season to taste) with the damn basmati rice for the best fucking results!

I suggest putting it in a bowl of some fucking sort, so the sauce doesn't get all over the damn place!

○○

And that's the fucking recipe! If you don't like it, than don't fucking try it! But you better fucking eat something thats decent and fucking homemade, you idiot! And to ensure you eat something at least somewhat fucking decent, I've left some fucking links to other recipes below, including some spicy and non-spicy ramen recipes!

Now go enjoy your meal dumbass!!!

□□□

The fucking links to other damn recipes! ⬇️

[myheartslikepaper]

sick day

bakudeku, sfw, fluff

In which Katsuki misses class for the first time ever, and Izuku is worried sick.

Originally posted as a thread on Twitter for bkdk okaeri week.

It was an early Wednesday morning, just an ordinary day for the class 3-A hero students. It was nearing graduation, and most students were anxiously waiting to start their careers. It was a nervous limbo of being ready to get out of high school, and not quite ready to enter the real world. But mostly, it was just mind-numbingly boring.

Izuku considered this fact as he twirled his pencil in his fingers, his head resting in his hand. Class started in 5 minutes, and the seat in front of him was suspiciously empty. 

As the clock ticked closer to 8 AM, Izuku watched nervously as the stragglers entered one by one, but none of them were his boyfriend.

He had thought something was wrong last night, as they cuddled and watched videos together on his laptop.  Katsuki was like his own personal heater usually - snuggle under the covers with him, and you’ll be warm and cozy in no time. But last night, as Izuku laid his head on his chest, he thought Katsuki’s body heat was unbearable. 

Since Katsuki had never been late a day in his life, there was only one explanation - he must be sick.

Aizawa soon entered the classroom and announced that Bakugou would not be joining them for class for the exact reason Izuku suspected. He was desperate to go back to the dorms to check on him, because he must be close to death to stay in bed all day. He wanted to bring him food, water, anything to help him feel better. 

The morning dragged on forever, with every passing minute feeling like an hour. Izuku was practically crawling out of his skin when the class was dismissed for lunch. As soon as Aizawa finished speaking, he jumped up and practically ran to the dorms.

Izuku tapped on Katsuki’s door lightly, and waited patiently for a few breaths. He heard no signs of life behind the door, so he slowly cracked the door open to check and see if he was there.

Katsuki’s room was pitch black. On the bed was a mound of blankets that stirred slightly as the light from the hallway hit where Izuku assumed his head would be. Katsuki groaned something about shutting the door.

Izuku did as he was told and sat down on the foot of the bed, placing a cautious hand on him.

“Kacchan, it’s me.”

“‘Zuku?” he said sleepily. He lifted his head slightly to confirm he was there, then let his head fall back to his pillow. 

“I just came to check on you.”

“‘M fine,” he replied, digging deeper into his mountain of blankets. Izuku seriously doubted it, judging by his current state.

“Do you need anything?”

Katsuki mumbled something inaudible. Izuku asked him to repeat, only to be met with another inaudible grumble. Katsuki turned over on his stomach and looked at him expectantly over his shoulder. His cheeks were flushed from the fever, and a sheen of sweat covered his face. Izuku’s heart twinged - Kacchan could be so cute when he let his guard down. 

“Oh,” Izuku said, eyes widening in recognition. “You want me to rub your back?”

Katsuki nodded hesitantly and relaxed into the bed once again, like he was embarrassed for asking but too sick to care very much. Izuku did as he was asked, caressing his boyfriend’s skin lovingly. 

They stayed like that for a while. Izuku rubbed his muscles in long, tender strokes, and Katsuki relaxed more with every minute. It was getting close to the end of the lunch hour, and soon Izuku would have to go back to class. But he would be damned if he didn’t soak up every second of Kacchan being in a vulnerable state, letting himself be pampered for once. He could be tardy, just this once.

[touyasdoll]

MHA Father’s Day Thirsts

In honor of Father’s Day, here are some spicy drabbles of various “daddy” related scenarios✨

Warnings: NSFW, minors DNI, daddy kink, breeding, general BDSM, impact play, choking, degradation

Pairings: Katsuki Bakugou, Eijiro Kirishima, Shouta Aizawa, Dabi/Touya Todoroki x reader

A/n: A little late on this, meant to post it yesterday, but is it ever too late to thirst??

——————————

Katsuki Bakugo

Trying for a baby

“You’re taking my cock like such a good little slut, ya know that?” Katsuki’s long fingers wrapped your throat, squeezing the sides just hard enough to make your pussy throb around him. “Shit, baby, you feel so fucking good.”

His eyes fluttered closed and he slowed his pace to a near halt, leaning down to kiss you as he rolled his hips against yours in a rare moment of tenderness.

“I love you so much, you know that, right?” His eyes searched your momentarily, the pads of his calloused fingers brushing along your jaw.

“I know,” you reassured him, still breathless from his previous assault on your body, basking in the pleasure still coursing through you and the sudden change in the atmosphere. “I love you too, Katsu.”

“I can't wait to knock you up,” he murmured against your skin as he trailed kisses between the valley of your breasts, all the way down to your belly as he cocked his hips back, leaving just the tip inside of you. “You’re gonna look so beautiful, baby.”

"Ahh--fuck, Katsu," you couldn't help but to blush as you arched your back, shifting your hips forward to sink him back into your velvety walls, clenching around him as you whined in need.

"Eager as ever, aren't you?" The smile that pressed against your stomach morphed into a smirk as he kissed you there once more, before snapping his hips down into yours, pounding against your cervix at an angle that had you seeing stars.

Eijiro Kirishima

Telling him to cum inside for the first time

He was seated on the edge of the couch with you bouncing effortlessly on his cock, gripping onto his shoulders for support as you neared your release. His hands guided your hips, pistoning you up and down as you straddled his lap.

"Eiji, I'm so fucking close..!" you threw your head back as you felt the tight coil deep within your belly threaten to snap.

"I got you, baby, let go. Cum all over my fucking cock." His grip tightened on your hips, littering your breasts with kisses as his thumb rubbed tight circles over your clit.

You were thrust over the edge, crying out as your nails dug into the flesh of his shoulders. He groaned, still guiding your hips as he thrusted forward to meet them eagerly, muttering praises in your ear as he chased his own high.

“Fuck, baby, you look so pretty right now. Always such a good girl, coming all over my fat fucking cock,” his hand wound into your hair, gently tugging it backwards to kiss you, carefully biting your bottom lip with his sharp teeth as you continued to sputter out moan after moan. “Where do you want me to cum, baby?”

“Inside me,” you locked eyes with him, interlocking your fingers behind his neck as you ground your hips against his more quickly. “I want you to fucking cum inside me, Eiji. Please..”

“Wh-what? Ahh, fuck,” his eyes grew wider before his head lolled back allowing you to kiss and suck at the sensitive spot beside his Adam’s apple. “A-are you sure, baby?”

Your fingers knitted into his hair, pulling just enough to affix his gaze with yours as you neared your second orgasm, desperately bucking your hips atop of his.

“Yes, oh God, yes. I want you to fill my tight little cunt up with your cum. Can you do that for me, Eiji?” The words escaped your lips as a mewl, your voice becoming softer and needier as you neared your release all over again. “Want you to stuff my pussy full, pretty please, Eiji..”

“Oh fuck yes I can,” his hands gripped your ass cheeks, squeezing firmly as he continued to match your relentless pace. “Ahh—oh, shit, baby I’m gonna cum so fucking har—FUCK.”

You could feel his chest tighten, hardening slightly as his quirk activated involuntarily. His eyes were blown as his head snapped upwards, a feral growl erupting from his chest as his rhythm became sloppy. You could feel his warm essence filling you up, spreading so easily all over his impossibly hard cock as you fucked him through his release until you found your own again.

Shouta Aizawa

Trying for a baby

“C’mere, love.” Shouta smiled softly upon seeing you in the doorway of his office, patting his lap as he leaned back in his desk chair. “I’m just about done here, I promise.”

“What all do you have left to do?” You returned his expression and strolled towards him, draping your arms around his neck as you perched yourself on his knee.

“Well, it’s actually something I need your help with,” one arm snaked around your waist, his hand resting on your hip. The other brought a hand up to your face, his index finger tucking just beneath your chin as his thumb rested atop it. “So I’m glad you’re here.”

“Oh?” You glanced down shyly, flicking your eyes back to his lips, watching them curl into a smile as he pressed a gentle kiss to yours.

A sigh left your nose as you rested a hand on his chest, leaning into him. He dropped his hand from your face, hooking his fingers behind the crook of your knee as he guided your legs to part, helping you shift your weight to straddle his lap. His lips attached to your neck, drawing a generous moan from you immediately as your eyes settled on the door to the right of you.

“Sho, the door isn’t locked. Someone could see..” your eyes fluttered closed again as his hands roamed over your ass, pressing you down firmly against his growing erection. A low grunt left his lips, before he spoke again, his voice gruff and thick with lust.

“See me fucking my wife?” He stood, his hands effortlessly lifting you onto the desk, where he gently laid you down as he leaned over you, whispering into your ear. “Let ‘em see then. We have important business to tend to tonight.”

Another moan was pulled from your chest as his hands skimmed beneath your short dress, pushing it up above your breasts as he kissed his way down your torso, over your hips, tugging your panties off as he neared your most sensitive area, only stopping when his tongue grazed your entrance.

“You ready, baby?” He placed a gentle kiss to the sensitive, innermost part of your thigh as he locked eyes with you.

Your fingers tangled into his hair as you nodded, your hips shifting in anticipation until he sank his tongue between your folds, causing you to cry out at once from the intense pleasure that he was already providing. His skilled tongue lapped up your juices, occasionally connecting with your clit, dragging it in slow circles as he reveled in the way you looked right now, squirming helplessly beneath him.

“I’m gonna cum right here tonight, baby,” he darted his long tongue straight into your center a few times, licking a stripe up to your clit before he took the bundle of nerves into his mouth. “Are you ready for that? Ready for me to make you a mommy?”

Dabi/Touya Todoroki

Breeding/Daddy kink

“Say it again. You’re not too fucked out to talk yet, are ya, babydoll?” Dabi’s voice had an edge of cruelty to it, that familiar mocking tone that made your walls clench around him without fail. His eyes nearly closed, falling half-lidded as he stared down at your already shaking form, your elbows wobbling as you tried to hold your submissive position in front of him while his cock slid in and out of you, his balls slapping against your already battered clit. “Shit—you really do love being treated like the filthy fucking whore that you aren’t, don’t you?”

“Y-yes, daddy,” was all that you were able to breathe out. It was more than enough for him.

“Oh good, your mouth still works. I’m glad, because I’m not done with that yet either,” his hands left his brutal hold on your hips, one capturing you around the neck and the other palming your breast as he pulled your back flush against his chest. “But first, I need to empty my balls into this sopping wet cunt of yours. Show you the only fucking thing you’re good for.”

Your eyes rolled back as his fingers expertly rolled your nipple while the pattern of his hips became unpredictable, a sure sign of his impending orgasm.

“S’oh yesss, breed me, daddy, give me all of your fucking cum,” your hand reached back behind his head as you angled your face toward his, speaking as your lips pressed against his.

His eyes locked with yours and you couldn tell he was just as far gone as your were, positively high on how good you both felt. It was truly intoxicating, seeing how desperate he was to have you like this. You always liked letting him do as he pleased, degrading you to filth while he ravaged you, but seeing that unmistakeable look of need on his face as he held your gaze now, you understood for the first time how good it felt to holds the reins.

“Have I been a good girl, daddy? I wanna feel your cum inside my tight little pussy so bad,” you almost whined between the sweet kisses you placed on his lips. “Please, let me milk that big, fat fucking cock of yours. Want you to fuck it deeper while I cum all over.”

He wanted nothing more than to keep his eyes on you, but he couldn’t hold on any longer and the sheer force of his orgasm made him snap his eyes shut as ribbons of white flooded into you. A cry left your lungs as your walls became even more slick with the mixture, allowing his thrusts to hit you more easily, more deeply. He silenced you with a forceful kiss, holding your jaw in place with his large hand, the cool sensation of the staples juxtaposing the heat between you. A few more thrusts was all it took for you to come undone yet again that evening, your body spasming, clinging to him like he was your only anchor to reality.

“That’s it, baby, you’ve been such a good girl for daddy tonight,” his hand still held your face, his eyes boring into yours as he swallowed the moans you offered him. His head was clear while yours still swam, dizzying you in your euphoria. “Wanna see you feel as good as you make me feel, princess.”

The kisses between you turned softer and he continued grinding his hips into yours, letting you ride out your final high, making sure to lean in and press his lips to your ear while you were still out of your right mind.

“Daddy loves you, baby. Don’t you forget it.”

[m6bjo4fu0]

Reignite

Part 3 of 3

1. Irrevocable 2. Futile 3. Reignite

Bakugo x gn!reader

Warnings: past relationship, comfort

❀ Masterlist ❀

“Katsuki, don’t cry.”

Bakugo was met with a soft expression when he looked up from his now drenched knees.

“I’m here.” (IIIII AM HEERREEEE)

You opened up your arms, and Bakugo’s teary eyes widened in excitement. Oh how much he had missed your warm, tender embrace. However, he couldn’t bring himself to you. He knows how terrible he hurt you, and he’s not sure whether you’d forgiven him or not.

You looked at him in confusion before going to him yourself instead. The two of you remained on the hardwood floor, minds racing with thoughts. Thoughts of the past, present, and future. What had happened to lead the two of you to this state, and what will this state take you to.

You didn’t know, and neither did Bakugo. Your legs wrapped around his waist as you sat on his lap with him quietly crying into where your neck and shoulder met. You traced small, gentle circles into his back as you breathed in his scent.

You thought to the time when the egotistic male relentlessly torn your heart to pieces, placing pride before everything. You weren’t ready to forgive him, not just yet.

.

As you continued drawing the circles, you felt Bakugo gripping you harder before pulling back.

“I’m sorry, I don’t wanna hurt you, ever. I’m sorry for being such a terrible person. I’m sorry for placing my stupid pride before you.”

You met his dark crimson eyes. The pupils full of pain, hoping to have you back again. The two red orbs begging you to return, silent tears still leaving stream after stream. You hated it. You hated that these same damn eyes were also the ones that tore you apart. You hated that the two vulnerable irises were also the ones that stabbed daggers into you.

However, you still missed them. The past weeks have been going well as you don’t have to deal with arguments with Bakugo anymore. Although you were doing great, you felt a void in you growing. You missed the way he used to smirk at you, teasing you for staring; You missed the grip he used to have around your waist, marking you as his; You, most definitely, missed the way he called you N/n, called you his doll, called you his.

He sighed.

“Y/n, I’m really sorry that I hurt you because of my selfishness. I promise, I won’t do that again! I- I love you too much for that!”

Salty tears began to form at the edge of his eyes again, and this time, you couldn’t resist.

You cupped his broken face with your palms, wiping away the tears.

“I know.”

You placed your forehead against his, feeling his warm, gentle breathing.

Yes, he did hurt you.

But you believe him.

You believe that it’s worth it to reignite the love.

Author’s notes: I made so many drafts and plots for the ending and chose this one lol

1.5.22/1.9.22

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[bakugohoex]

“good girl, spread your legs more, you want me to make you feel good?”

pairing: katsuki bakugo x female reader

cw: aged up, nsfw (corruption kink, age gap, fingering, nipple play, biting and sucking, kissing, praise, virgin reader, unprotected consensual sex, office sex, finger sucking and jaw grabbing), talks about men being perverted as well

word count: 4,000+

information: corruption collab hosted by @ultimate-astridwriting​

a/n: had such fun writing this, hope you guys enjoy this and check out the collab to see the other fics

summary: in which bakugo has always been infatuated with the pure guise you put on, when you come to his office late at night, how can he not resist the temptation of ruining something so sweet?

↞ back to my hero academia masterlist

He hated it, hated how in a single look you could have him under a spell. You were supposed to be his sidekick, his little pure sidekick. But the way you sauntered throughout the office in the early morning of June made him think of you differently, think of how those pure eyes had something so much more to them. He watched how the tight leotard fitted just above your hips, he had often seen the other sidekicks stare at your body.

He knew you never meant any harm with your costume, it made it easier for you to use your quirk and stay regulated by the commission. The way the top of your collars were open showed a glimpse of your chest as the short sleeves made your arms almost glisten in the sunlight. Bakugo played with the pen in his hand as he watched you smile happily with some other much older sidekicks.

Ever since you arrived a couple months back, it seemed like every single member of Bakugo’s agency had fallen under your innocent guise. But how pure could one little girl be, hell you were only a couple years younger than the man, but the fresh face you brought to his agency was an unknown presence.

Sidekicks seemed to fan around you, love every part of you. You spoke with such purity, as if you’d never experienced anything adult ever. You chuckled at some idiot's joke as he continued to stare, leaning back in his chair as the vest top allowed his arms to breath. Bakugo hated the look of lust his sidekicks gave; you were supposed to be his little sidekick nobody else’s. What gave them the right to look at your vulnerable self and think they deserved to even talk to you?

He watched as you walked closer to his glass doors, you easily dismissed the men who surrounded you as soon as you knocked on his door. “Come in.” He muttered, dropping the pen as you gave a soft smile to the man.

“Good morning Sir, I collected your mail as I arrived.” He hadn’t noticed the envelopes in your hand, hearing the formalities that he hated as you stood at the door waiting to be told to sit down.

He put his hand out for the mail you so kindly collected from the side; it was never your job, but you seemed to always love helping the man. “Sit.”

You followed his order passing the mail as you sat straight, legs clenched together and hands sitting on your thighs. Such a pretty picture he knew how men would long to have a woman like you waiting for them like this. He shook his head skimming through the mail, some from other hero agencies, some other shit he didn’t care for. “Is this all, Sir.”

“I told you not to call me that.” He scowled sternly.

“Sorry Si…Bakugo.” You quickly stuttered on your words sitting firm as his gaze looked you up and down.

He chucked the mail to the side, leaning on his arms to get a closer look at you, “you can leave now.” The presence you brought about was sickly, he almost felt disgusted being around you, but it was something he craved to fix. He wanted to ruin that smile, ruin the makeup you wore, ruin your thighs and neck.

You quickly nodded your head before walking out of the door, but you stopped at his door frame, “Bakugo.” He looked up to meet your gaze again, “you’ll be coming to the dinner tonight.”

It wasn’t a question rather than a plea for him to attend, one of his sidekicks was having a birthday dinner and he had so kindly asked everybody to attend along with some of his own friends. Bakugo looked back down at the papers before meeting your eyes again, “some shitty extras birthday is the least of my problems.”

It was all you needed to hear for you to leave his office, he watched you walk away almost sad that the man wasn’t attending. It was your first time getting together with your colleagues and Bakugo wasn’t attending. You had heard about the rising pro hero when he had just freshly graduated UA and you were in middle school, ever since you’d become infatuated with the man.

He had a shitty personality from his teen years but as you watched him grow and heard the UA teachers speak highly about the famous graduating class who had fought villains since their first year. How could you not respect the man and now getting the opportunity to be around him, work alongside him made your heart beat harder.

The day went by without any more word from Bakugo, he went on patrol with some of the older sidekicks whilst you got stuck with other fresh recruits on your own little patrols. Bakugo had noticed the tense look you gave him; he was going to attend the dinner, but he really had just wanted to see your reaction. The way you didn’t meet his eyes when he walked past you, but as soon as he wasn’t looking you’d stare longley at the man. Bakugo had to admit that your quirk was exceptional, the way you easily fought villains on one of the first patrols he’d been on with you was amazing. He saw the raw talent you had for this, the way you’d be able to move past being a sidekick and create your own agency.

Bakugo truthfully knew that you’d become a lot bigger than he was at 19, that your talent would be noticed, and he’d lose you. His eyes skimmed to the darkness in front of the panned-out glass, he saw how most had left for the dinner and others had left for their own patrols. He watched how the sky was filled with bright lights, the way each building housed another story. He heard a knock making him turn, he had expected you to have left by now but instead you were standing in your normal clothes, the short skirt and tight shirt that made your figure show even more than he had expected.

It was the first time he had ever been alone with you, even in his office there had always been watchful eyes staring at the interaction with the angry pro hero and the sweet sidekick. It sounded cliché in his head, but he watched how you stayed beside the door frame encase he told you to fuck off.

“Bakugo.” You whispered softly, he saw how your bag was held tightly in your other hand, you had a small smile as you looked for any sign he was letting you inside.

He beckoned you inside, watching how you stayed in full view of him, he hadn’t realised how tight your shirt actually was. How it accentuated your chest to make them almost spill out of your shirt, he hated the thoughts that skimmed through his head. For years, his only thought was to become the number one pro hero, of course he wasn’t a virgin, having had many one night stands in his time. But the lust he had for you, for you to be pushed against the glass of his office made his head spin in excitement.

“What do you want?” He questioned as he watched you take a seat in front of him, he licked his lips waiting for an answer as you dropped your bag to the side.

He waited for an answer, you soft eyes giving him a tender look that he wanted to ruin. He craved to have you in his arms, on his cock but you spoke some sweetly like a pure virgin would, so careful with your words. “I didn’t want you to be alone on a Friday night.”

It was sweet, sickly even how you took pity on him. He hated it, giving you a snare as you looked down, he was about to speak when you continued, “I didn’t want to go to the dinner without you.” His eyes almost softened as your own did, but he regained his composure tapping his finger against his thigh as he looked at your smaller fragile frame.

“Why?” It was a simple question, but you seemed unable to answer it, he watched as you stayed in thought thinking of an answer, but he beat you too any response, “scared to be without me, aren’t you baby girl.”

His words seethed with malice, you felt mocked and disgraced you were unable to form the words to say he was wrong. Because he wasn’t, you were scared to be without him, scared to be in a room with men who had eyed you up on multiple days. He saw the worry that flashed as you tensed up, were you really that scared to be left in a room with them. He sat up moving to stand in front of his desk as he leaned against it, arms muscles on show as you didn’t meet his eyes.

“I should go.” You spoke hesitantly, but he leaned forward, hands on the chair as he trapped your body between his own.

His breath skimmed onto your face as he stared down at your fragile self, you were a pretty little porcelain doll for him to break. He moved one finger to touch your chin forcing you to look at him, you finally met his gaze feeling so small in front of him. “Bakugo.” You breathed out heavily, he imagined this breathless was from him pounding into you making him groan in frustration.

“What is it, spit it out princess?” He was toying with you, every word filled with a lust to ruin you in a matter of seconds.

His finger forcing you to look at him as your breath was heavy, “I didn’t want to go, they make me all uncomfortable.” It was a confession of the fear that you had to the men, Bakugo looked down, his eyes glazed with a type of discomfort at your own comment.

“I’ll tell them to stop.” He was going to stick by his word, but it was more for his own sake then anything else. He wanted them to stop so only he could have you, only he could think disgustingly dirty thoughts of you. You nodded but his finger stayed firm on your chin, “do you want me to stop?”

His question brought you to think of the prior actions of the past couple of months. They way he’d bark orders to the sidekicks whenever he saw them getting too handsy with you, the way he’d stand in between you and another man letting you beside him only. The way that he allowed you into his office without a growl to tell you to fuck off, it all came down to this moment. He may have not explicitly stated he wanted you like the others, but it had always been a lingering feeling.

“I don’t.” You shook your head looking at his lips, he licked them before grabbing your jaw up making you stand up. He let go of your jaw, the lingering miss of his touch as he went and sat on his chair, the way he spread his legs, his arms ready to divulge into you made you squirm.

He patted his lap, as you followed his instruction, your skirt riding as you situated yourself on his lap. One arm around your waist as the other skimmed down your mouth to your jaw and that’s when the question occurred. The one where you could decide if this was what you really wanted, “you want me to fuck you baby girl?”

You looked down at his lingering hands ready to either leave your chest or caress every part of your body. “I want you.” It was a whisper and Bakugo gave a soft chuckle at how stupidly quiet you’d gotten.

“Speak up, doll, or I’ll have to leave you to sort yourself out.” He was dead serious in his comment waiting for a proper reply to the question.

“I want to do this.” You spoke more loudly; his hand cupped your breast from on top of the shirt as his other hand gripped your side before his lips met your own.

Your hands moved to his cheek, kissing him softly but he had other ideas. He brought your body closer, wanting to feel your cunt clench against his thigh as he kissed you. His tongue gliding inside at the sign of one of your moans, one of your hands moving to grab the back of his neck.

You knew you had to tell him, it’d be wrong of you if you didn’t and it would make him know that you weren’t just looking for a hook-up. As you let go of his hair, your hand still around his neck as you breathed heavily into his mouth you confess something that could end whatever this was. “I’m a virgin.”

“I assumed.” He spoke moving his mouth to your neck, he hadn’t even thought to care about it, he was going to have you if it was the last thing he’d do.

You gave a soft moan as your hands played with the ends of his blond locks, “and you don’t care?” You questioned as his teeth nibbled on your neck, the sound of sucking and his tongue lapping against your neck heard throughout the room.

“Should I?” He had been admiring the purple bruises across your neck too care about the look of worry you had on your face, “my pretty little Y/n, what did you think I’d be so crude as to take your virginity and not want something else from you.” He moved his mouth to your ear sending a shiver down your spine as he continued, “once I fuck you and you cum on my cock, this cunt belongs to me and only me, okay?”

“Okay.” You replied obediently, Bakugo couldn’t wait to ruin you.

He went in for another kiss, watching how one hand rested on his bicep as your other landed on his chest. “You're gonna be a good girl for me.” He spoke parting ways as he took the shirt off of your body, seeing how you face flushed at feeling exposed. “Don’t hide yourself, pretty girl, I’m going to make you feel so good.”

Bakugo knew how scared you must feel knowing this was your first time in an unconventional setting, but even then he wanted to make it good for you. Make you remember your first time as something amazing that brought you pleasure rather than the pain of it all.

You nodded as you moved your hands away, his mouth moving to your neck as his tongue licked right down to where both your breasts parted. He unclipped your bra, the snap making you look down to meet his eyes as he sucked on one of your hand nipples. You could almost feel your underwear begin to soak through, glad Bakugo was wearing the baggy trousers.

The sucking of your nipples filled the room before, he let go easily bringing you up onto the desk. He saw how your skirt lifted up, exposing the cotton underwear he had been wishing to see. Your back rested against the hard wood as he looked at you with watchful eyes, “good girl, spread your legs more, you want me to make you feel good?”

“P…please make me feel you.” Your words echoed in his ear as he dragged the skirt down your legs, chucking it on the floor before moving your underwear to the side. Slick coating the fabric as he dipped his fingers into your clit, it sent a shiver as you tried to hide a moan by biting your hand. His hand moved to grab it away, holding it down as he brought his chair closer to your exposed body.

“Pretty, pretty thing, you going to let me ruin you now, let me stretch you out.” You were ever so submissive, so eager as he strung you along with every word.

His fingers moved past your clit as it circled your cunt, before divulging your insides. He let two fingers begin pumping back and forth as he watched how your heavy moans filled the room. He knew that if someone came walking into the doors both of you would be caught but why should he care. It's his agency and you were his pretty girl.

“Katsuki.” The way his name rolled off your tongue sent a surge for more from Bakugo as he inserted a third finger pumping in and out through the slick.

He heard the way you moaned heavily gripping his other hand whilst your other gripped the edge of the table. He continued with his actions, before feeling your cunt clench against him, “you want to cum princess, cum on my fingers…go on.” The coil inside of you had almost felt pressured to release at his words.

You’d never cummed before and the feeling that came with it brought you on a high, he watched you give a hefty moan of his name and a swear before gushing right onto his fingers. “You gonna keep this all inside.”

It was a command you’d happily follow as his fingers were still coated in slick. You looked eagerly at his fingers that he was about to put in his mouth, but the way you looked at them, in an instant he knew what you wanted. “Dirty thing aren’t you, you want to taste yourself.” Bakugo sucked one of the fingers leaving the other two coated in you, saliva went down the third before he stuck all three into your mouth.

You sucked the cum and spit from his fingers feeling like a whore for doing something like this, Bakugo enjoyed the feeling of your tongue wrapping around his fingers. As much as he wanted to feel your mouth on his cock, for your first time he wanted to please you and make the innocent girl not so innocent anymore.

His fingers came out with a pop as your cunt leaked out cum onto the table. He took his vest off, your eyes widening at the true extent of Bakugo’s body before he undid his trousers. You could already see the bulge, but you had no idea it was truly a good size cock. Anything could satisfy you at this point, he watched how you leant against your elbows watching him strip. It felt like your very own show, his eyes lingered across your frame, the smell of cum and sweat soaking the air.

He chucked his trousers to the side before doing the same with his boxers. His blushed tip and much larger cock twitched upwards, he pumped up and down as precum dribbled down to his thighs. You knew that what he had was a lot larger than average, your mouth watered as you felt an urgency to have it inside of you.

“Please…inside me.” You could barely even speak, Bakugo smirked at the effect he had on you aligning his cock right to where your cunt was.

“So needy, keep begging.” His cock lingered in place as he waited for more.

You mewled more pleas before he heard something that made his cock twitch, “please…Sir, please I’m your good girl.” You spoke through a broken voice as you had begged for his cock.

“This is going to hurt.” You knew it would and as he  began to push his cock inside of you, tears welled up as they trickled down your face, black mascara staining your eyes as he felt a sadistic enjoyment from this. “There you go, let me all the way in, pretty girl.”

His praise meant the world as he was glad to have stretched your cunt out with his fingers prior, but even then the extent of how much you could take was limited. He felt suffocated around you as you continued to sob, Bakugo bent down to meet your eyes. “You’re doing so well baby.”

He wiped the tears as he kissed you again, he wanted to fill you right up before thrusting, make you feel suffocated and filled up. It would get rid of the pureness, get rid of everything innocent that men had been attracted to. “I’m…doing good.” You whispered through the kiss, loving and appreciating the praise you were getting.

His hands cupped your cheek as he gave you a smirk, “you’re doing amazing baby girl.” He kissed the side of your jaw as he felt all of him stuff you full. “You ready?”

“Yes Sir.” You whispered back hands locking into his hair as one of his hands had gripped your thigh to bring it up. The much easier access had allowed for him to begin thrusting in and out of your cunt, slick and your previous cum helping him as he felt swallowed inside of you.

Bakugo knew how he was with sex, brash, fast and lustful but at this moment with you. He was nothing but loving and caring, making sure you felt pleasure. He met your eyes, how you looked at him with such admiration before you leant forward through his thrusting, “You okay?”

You gave a small moan at his question as the pain had turned into pleasure, each thrust ridding the pain. You knew why you had stayed a virgin for so long, you were waiting. You didn’t know who for, but at this moment in time, you knew it had always been for Katsuki Bakugo.

“Fuck.” You whispered as his pace quickened, he watched your eyes roll to the back of your head as he felt himself touch the back of your uterus. The way his cock had left a bulge into your stomach as he was able to see himself fill you entirely, “fa…faster.”

He obeyed your wish as he thrusted faster and deeper, every moan making him groan loudly in your ear. “Doing…doing so well princess.”

His leant his forehead against your own as you both took in each other’s presence, his thrusts becoming sloppier as your moans became louder. “You gonna cum on me.” You nodded eagerly as even though you felt tired you still had the strength to look right up into Bakugo’s scarlet eyes.

You felt the coil in your stomach re-release as cum gushed out in one hefty swipe, “fuck Katsuki…” You breathed heavily, tears flooded down, mascara ruined, hair dishevelled. Bakugo continued to thrust waiting for his own oncoming high, he knew he hadn’t used a condom but at this moment he wanted to fill you right up.

“Can I?” He whispered into your ear, trailing kisses down your neck to your collarbones, his thrusting leading to squelches forming in the room.

“I’m on the pill.” He didn’t bother asking why, even though through your moan and rolled out eyes he could only assume it had something to do with your quirk. You laid on the table, moaning as Bakugo thrusted back and forth, you felt empty but the love and passion he had as he groaned your name at every thrust brought you pleasure.

His mouth moved to suck on your collarbone, the more bruises to show who you belonged to. Your hands moved to his back as long scratch lines formed until you felt Bakugo cum right inside of you. The feeling of being filled to the brim as even more cum was being stuffed inside of you, you had heard him moan your name as his head was on the crook of your neck.

“You did so well baby girl.” He whispered, slipping his cock back out as he looked at your body and face. He grabbed your jaw to make you look at him again, “this well tell those stupid extras to not look at what’s mine.”

You softened at his possessiveness as you felt him give your temple a sweaty kiss. His lips lingered as he admired how you looked. The pure innocent girl that had arrived in his office would be leaving as the cum filled stained girl that now belonged to him.

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[mae-gi-writes]

Not Soft (PT.1) | Bakugo Katsuki (BNHA)

Summary:

Bakugo Katsuki is not soft. Except maybe for you.

PART ONE | PART TWO

◇ ◇ ◇

Bakugo Katsuki is not soft.

And that, everyone knows. So catch someone calling him anything close to that very definition and they're bound to get their entire body blasted with that fiery quirk of his.

He knows, better than anyone else, that he is the star of UA. People's eyes have been on him ever since his debut at the tender age of fifteen and now, at eighteen, he's pretty certain there isn't anyone in the entirety of Tokyo that doesn't know him. How can they, when his face is plastered across every tv screen available? If not for Deku, maybe he'd have the entire spotlight for himself. Not that this deters him. It only spurs him on to be better, because he has to. He has to become the best hero.

So why?

Why the fuck is he unable to tear his eyes off you?

The first time that Bakugo had gotten a glimpse of your existence had been a mere accident. Freshly transferred from Shinketsu high school earlier this year and deapite being shy and awkward, you had adapted pretty quickly to the warm welcome from the girls' side.

Quite obviously, Uraraka had deemed it her job to introduce you around to everyone on campus. Tsu and Mina hung off your arms as you chatted about histories and your quirks.

Bakugo had been busy training to control his blasts in the training field -- and he would've done a much better job if Deku and Todoroki weren't around to slow down his pace -- when the group of girls stumbled upon the scene, bringing the noise over with them like they were at a frickin' summer fest.

It didn't help that they were all fawning over Todoroki's good looks and admiring Deku's muscles, making as much of a ruckus as a pack of hyenas gone wild that Bakugo had snapped like an angered dog.

"Will you shut the fuck up!?" A vein throbbed at his temple when he spun around with a glare that could've melted mountains, "this ain't your fuckin' playground! Go flirt somewhere else--"

His crimson orbs had fluttered to yours. You'd flinched, then hesitantly lifted your lips into a smile.

Bakugo's chest exploded.

From then onwards, he'd catch you everywhere. To the point where he wonders if you're doing this on purpose, popping up at the most random times to make his heart go staccato.

He hates it. He hates it so much his fingers itch to fucking grab something and-- ugh!

"Fuckin' get outta my way!" He roars every time he spots you standing in the peripheral of his desk, storming over with such aggressivity that you're shaking as you stumble back.

"Jeez Bakugo, chill it with the newbie would you?" Kirishima tries to subdue him, to no avail because who can subdue Bakugo anyway?

"Don't worry, he's always a little prickly," Ochako shrugs her shoulders, "you'll get used to it."

The more he tries ignoring you, the more it seems to work less in his favour. Like in combat training for example, where he gets partnered up with you. He doesn't hesitate to throw a fit at Aizawa, who is quick to restrain him with bandages and tells him to cooperate.

And the thing is, Bakugo can't even look at you in the eye. Not even when you call his name. It's like he's set on ignoring you even when you try calling for him.

"Bakugo-kun, we can`t spar if you're not willing to cooperate," you say with exasperation, hands at the ready.

"Who says I wanna spar with you?!" He scowls with such ferocity and it would've worked to scare you off, if not for the fact that he can't seem to look at you for too long.

Nor can he stop the redness blazing up his neck.

"Well Aizawa sensei put us together for a reason so unless you want to fight the wall, then I'll just have to do," you tell him, "can't you at least try--"

"Fuck off Y/N!"

On other occasions, he finds himself squeezed in next to you in the lunch hall when the girls had decided to gatecrash their table in particular. And of course, fucking Kaminari has to say something about it.

"You okay bro? You're all red and look like you're about to piss your pants."

Bakugo can't help but explode, "What are those fuckin' extras doin' here?!"

"Aw come on man, don't be a dick," red-haired Kirishima doesn't hesitate to sling his arms around the blonde's neck similarly to what he'd do with an overexcited pitbull, "there's space for everyone in here."

Grumbling and pulling against Kirishima's iron grip, Bakugo curses and does the mistake of catching your eye. And that only makes his blush turn fire-engine red.

"What the hell are you lookin' at?!" He barks out on impulse, quickly averting his gaze, "mind your own fuckin' business!"

"I'm not doing anything," you're quick to avert your own gaze, before mutttering, "not like you're anything special."

"Say that again, loser!"

"You don't have to yell. I'm right here--"

His fist shoots out so quick you barely realize he"s grabbed a hold of your shirt before he's tugged you closw to him, embarrassment now gone as his nostrils flare in anger. You've definitely bruised his ego and as you hear Kaminari mumble out an "oh shit" in Jirou's ear, you know you're done for.

"Listen here, dumbass," Bakugo growls out, blood red eyes locked onto yours, "don't get in my way."

You say nothing, only scowling back.

"Guys come on, chill out," Ochako puts up her hands in a gesture of peace, though that goes completely unnoticed as you're both too locked in an intense scowl battle.

That is, before Bakugo finally realises that you're a little too close, so close he can smell your shampoo; a mixture or lilac and fresh coconut...or is it? He sniffs out of impulse. And then, reddens with blazing heat the moment your eyes meet.

He shoves you back so violently that you topple over to the ground butt first, causing both Ochako and Kirishima to shout out, "Bakugo!"

"That wasn't cool man," Kaminari murmurs while Kirishima quickly helps you up. You murmur a soft thank you and Bakugo turns away before the guilt swallows him whole.

"Fuckin' hell," he doesn't wait, shoving back his chair before storming out of the lunch hall before he can taste the remorse on his tongue.

Your face haunts him for the rest of that week.

Never in his whole life has Bakugo ever felt so out of control. It's like he's sitting right in the middle of a tornado, a mess of feelings that he just doesn't know how to deal with. Part of him wishes to ask someone -- anyone -- for answers, but he's Bakugo, the prodigy of Class 1-A. He doesn't ask for help, much less from those stupid bunch of extras that will only erupt with gossip.

Unfortunately for him, Kirishima seems to have a good eye upon the slightest shifts in his demeanor, even going as far as to ask him whether he has a problem with the newcomer.

"The fuck you yappin' about?! Why would I care about that loser?"

"Maybe because you seem to blush every time she's close? Or how you can't even look at her in the face?" His red-haired friend examines his nails while leaning against one of the training poles, watching Bakugo throw punch after punch with excessive pent-up rage, "how do you find her, anyway?"

"Huh?" Bakugo's head whips around, glaring at him.

"She's pretty cool, isn't she? If you forget the fact that she came from Shinketsu. I'd even go as far to say that she's cute."

"If you're gonna talk about shit like that, go talk to Pikachu," Bakugo growls, throwing punch after punch, after punch-- until the dummy flies off its hinges and crashes to the ground.

"You're red, Bakubro. Are you --"

He yelps in mid-sentence when the latter thrusts his palm out with a burst of explosion, "Go to fuckin' hell!"

What's so great about you anyway? His mind roars as he plummets a rain of punches through the endless row of dummies like his blood just can't seem to calm down. Why is he so intent on keeping his eyes on you when you barely stand out? You're not a prodigy, your quirk is just above average -- you have a gift for working with shadows -- and you seem to hate his guts as much as he does.

But his eyes are like magnets, always finding you in the crowd, always sizing you up and analyzing the fluidity of your movements, the gracefulness that mimics that of a ballerina. He can't understand how someone can move in a way that feels as if they're dancing with the wind.

He wants to slap himself. Pound some reality into that head of his. With his fists.

There is no solution other than avoiding you altogether which, let's face it, isn't his forte.

But he tries. He really tries his best.

Except, you're kind of always in the way. Or you forcefully try to anyway.

You seem to know exactly what unnerves him, what hits all the wrong spots. During training under Aizawa's close eye, you keep on brushing off his insults, laughing and even going as far as to pat his shoulder for good measure even when he's gotten you black and bruised at the end of each session.

Whenever you spot him sitting alone in the lunch hall, you'd plunk your tray beside him and engage him in conversation even if you're the only one talking for the most part.

"I'm trying to improve the extension of my quirk so that I can use it during close combat," you say through a mouthful of sandwich, oblivious to the reddish tint taking over Bakugo's ears, "Aizawa sensei told me I should practice them separately before combining them. But it's taking so much time and energy."

Silence. Only broken by the aggressive scooping up of Bakugo's spoon against his bowl. But that's normal. It's expected.

You sigh, waving to Tsu and Ochako who wave back happily as they line up for their food.

"Should fuckin' eat more."

You blink, realizing that those words had come out of none other than the blonde sitting before you, red eyes glaring into his food.

Your jaw falls slack, "h--huh?"

Red pupils flick up to yours, "should fuckin' eat more," he repeats with a growl, "you eat like a lil' ass bird. No wonder you can't control shit."

"O--oh." He's actually talking to you. Why does he even bother?! Shut your trap fucker! His mind screams, "t--thanks. Bakugo-kun."

"Don't thank me, do something about it," he snaps, and before you know he's reaching over and dumping a few meatballs into your bowl, "there. Now fuckin' eat and stop sittin' on your ass during training!"

It is at this exact moment that Ochako and Tsu turn up, trays in hand and eyes darting between you and Bakugo in confusion.

"Y/N-chan, did Bakugo-kun just give you his food?" Tsu quips, as tactless as ever, "he must really like you."

"Shut yer' trap, Frog Bitch!" Bakugo explodes before you can scramble for an explanation. He grabs his tray and storms off, dumping it off with unecessary force on his way out and barging into Deku without so much as a glance back at him like he usually would've.

That doesn't deter you from continually seeking him out though, and while he loathes having you stick around when he can't seem to control his sanity, he's glad to find that you take his advice, grabbing onto two loaves instead of one at each meal, ensuring that you finish everything on your plate. He notices a change in your snacks too; how you switch out cookies for protein bars, your dark chocolate for peanuts.

He feels proud, to say the least.

"Hey you were right," you tell him after practice the following week. You are both sweaty and bruised, and will definitely make a trip to Recovery Girl soon after. For now though, he's content lying in the dirt and catching his breath, content to smell the soft coconut in the air that signals you're collapsed on his right.

"It helps my quirk when I eat more," he can feel you smile even if he doesn't see you, "did you feel it?"

He grunts. Compliments don't come naturally to him. But he has to admit you're doing better -- way better than he had expected.

"Your punches are shit," he states.

"Yesh I know. I hate training with weights."

"Hm.". A pause. Then, he grunts, "you got a pretty good roundhouse."

"Ooh Bakugo," you push yourself up with your arms to send him a teasing grin, "what's this? A compliment?"

"Shut up." Pause. "Fuckin' extra."

You giggle, "you're not that bad to be around, after all. Either that or I'm getting used to you."

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

"That people have got you all wrong," you grin at him and he swears his heart squeezes so hard in his chest that he chokes.

Coughing and turning away from you on his elbow, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand while your head pops up behind him, "you okay, Bakugo--"

" 'm fine!" He yells a little too loud. So loud that your classmates turn and stare.

He scrambles to his feet with lightning speed, doesn't wait to hear the concern spilling from your lips as he stomps out of the training grounds. This is ririculous, choking because of a compliment! What the fuck is wrong with him!?

It isn't until he reaches his room, rams a fist into his wall before looking up into his closet mirror -- that he catches sight of himself:

Flushed cheeks. Reddened neck. Steam coming out of his ears. Chest stuttering and heart skipping beats like someone's playing drums.

Shit.

Bakugo is not soft. But maybe for you, he might be.

----

"Oi."

Midoriya almost jumps out of his skin at the sound of Bakugo's voice booming through the gymnasium. He swivels around, eyes wide and already tearing up with apprehensive fear.

When Bakugo's around, there's bound to be trouble that follows.

"K--Kacchan? H--Hey," Midoriya's heart is practically jumping out of his chest the closer Bakugo stomps up to him. Maybe out of impulse, he winces and cowers back, "did you--uh-- did you need anything Kaachan?"

Bakugo stares at him for a moment. Then, jerks his chin to the Gym doors, grumbling a soft, "outside."

Midoriya's pulse spikes even more as he reluctantly trails after the blonde. He tries to recount everything he's done in the last 24 hours but comes up with nothing upon realizing he hasn't even seen Bakugo in the last two days, much less interacted with him.

"What is it, Kacchan?" Midoriya wipes his sweaty hands over his pants as Bakugo stares off in the distance, surprisingly calm for someone so impulsive.

It is slightly unnerving. Strangrly terrifying.

"Round face liked you, didn't she?"

Midoriya's entire body jolts as if electrified. He gapes at Bakugo, who is quick to snap in defence, "Whatcha' lookin' at, fuckin' Deku?! Just answer the damn question!"

"Uh--Uh y-yeah yeah! She--I think she did! But not anymore!" Midoriya squeaks out, trying not to squirm under Bakugo's threatening scowl.

"Hmph," his scowl deepened, "and did'ya?"

"Did I?..."

"Did you like her back, dumbass?!"

"Oh n--no! I mean I like Uraraka as a friend but--but not more!"

"Fuck," Bakugo swivels around, "fuckin' useless."

"Wait Kacchan!" Midoriya cries out just as the latter is about to walk away. He swivels with such a foul scowl that Deku squirms, "why...do you ask?"

"None of your business!"

The dark-haired, freckled boy might've believed him, if not for the rumours. It is a widely known fact that you and Bakugo seem to hit it off well. You seem to be the only one able to tame his temper and for that, Midoriya thinks you're a gift provided by the heavens.

"I could help you," Midoriya offers, but that only stirs up Bakugo even more, "I don't need your fuckin' help!--"

"Is this about Y/N?"

Bakugo's face pinks, "that--You--Shut up!"

"Do you like Y/N, Kacchan?"

"Wha--No!--The fuck?!" Bakugo reels back like Midoriya has just slapped him, "what you talkin' about?!"

It's not his words, nor his balled-up fists, but his face that gives him away, and it's so strange and foreign on Bakugo that Midoroya has to blink twice to realize that his blonde friend is blushing like a schoolboy, with an expression that looks akin to mortification.

If this were anyone else, Midoriya would've inquired without hesitation. But this is Bakugo, who never divulges his feelings, who never never seeks him out for stuff like that.

So he has to tread on fragile waters.

"Look, I don't know what's going on with you," Midoriya starts off gently as Bakugo tenses so hard that veins pop out of his arms, "but I'm assuming you're asking me because you want answers--"

"Damn right I do."

"About your feelings? Towards Y/N?"

The scowl on Bakugo's face deepens tenfold. A vein pops on his forehead.

"Well," Midoria continues gently, "it's not impossible. For you to like someone--"

"Who says I like her?!"

"No one! I didn't say anything! Just-- liking someone doesn't make you weak! Or--or dumb!" Midoriya is already taking a step back, just out of Bakugo's range so that he can't throttle him, "It's human you know! And it's really great if it works out!"

But Bakugo doesn't do that. He shoves his hands in his pockets and, with a permanent scowl, mutters a gruff, "keep talkin'. "

"Well uhm-- I mean I'm no expert. But I guess...liking someone feels like, you know, like you want to be with them all the time. You want to see them smile and when they do it's like -- addictive. Like seeing the sun after a rainy day," Midoriya's smile is soft, gentle. He looks down at his hands, "I imagine you'd want to touch them, hold their hands and stuff even if the idea makes your palms sweat and your heart race."

He looks up towards the blonde in question and is surprised to find the latter the colour of a fire-engine, as if he's been exposed to Todoroki's fire.

"Kacchan?"

Bakugo jumps. Very unlikely of him. "W--What?!"

"Were you listening?"

"Course I was dumbass!"

"Oh okay, w--well uhm...does that help?"

Bakugo's eye twitches for a minute, jaw clenched so tight Midoriya fears he might break it in two before swivelling around to stomp off without so much as a thsnks or a goodbye. Not that Midoriya has expected much, who only smiles like a parent watching his children grow up.

Meanwhile, Bakugo's head is spinning, barely taking note of his surroundings. Heart racing? Palms sweating more than they should? And -- he slams the brakes upon his thoughts just as they're about to go downhill and shakes his head so violently it starts aching.

Fuck. Fuck. Fucking hell! He screams inwardly, hand going to rake through his hair on impulse.

It's not that he's ignorant about love, or the fact that maybe he will have to find a partner at some point. He knows, he's seen his parents-- as gross as it was. However, that is definitely not his priority. It's not even on his goddamn list!

So why?

Why can't he just stop?

----

"Bakugo's acting weird."

That comment is enough for Ochako to stop in mid-bite, glancing up at Tsu's statement before both eyes swivel towards the said cause in question:

You.

You blink back at them, "what?" You ask through a mouthful of fried noodles.

"He's been avoiding us," Tsu states as if it isn't obvious enough, "I wonder whether it's because he likes Y/N-chan."

You almost spit out your food, "What?"

"Didn't you know?"

"No," spluttering, you quickly swivel towards Ochako for answers, "what's this about?"

"Everyone knows," Ochako replies with slight embarrassment, "the boys have been saying that ever since you and Bakugo have started training together, he's been acting really weird. Not his usual self. And whenever you're around he gets all hot and bothered for some reason--"

"Because he finds me annoying," you quickly reply.

Ochako shakes her head though, short chesnut strands brushing her cheeks as she does so, "because he likes you, Y/N."

"He's looking at you now," Tsu quips.

"That's not true--" you turn to prove them wrong, but are astounded to find glaring red orbs blaze into yours for a few hot seconds.

"The fuck you lookin' at?!" He yells.

You wince. Of course. You quickly turn back to face the two girls.

"See?" Tsu nudges you, a floppy smile spreading across her lips, "he's been staring for over five minutes."

"He just shouted at me," you deadpan.

"He's just embarrassed. That's Bakugo for you," Ochako replies.

"He's definitely blushing," Tsu adds.

You don't believe them. Not at first. Bakugo? Liking you of all people? You're barely meeting his standards and the only times you talk is when he takes pleasure in insulting you. If that's his way of flirting then...

Then what?

Admittedly, you had entertained the idea of how it would feel to be intimate with the blonde top student, not only for his status in UA but also due to his dashingly good looks. Precisely why he's the main subject of conversation whenever the subject of 'arms' or 'tight abs' or 'muscles' comes up.

But.

And the but is a big one. You don't feel like love is even something Bakugo has in his vocabulary, which thus results in you shoving all romantic thoughts in the back of your mind in the dusty closet gathering all unspoken thoughts.

It feels like you're treading on eggshells the next week, always jumping whenever Bakugo's voice is in hearig distance and doing your best to avoid him. You lie to Aizawa about being sick for the entire week in order to skip training with Bakugo, which you realize is a big mistake the moment he barges into your room without warning,

"Bakugo?!" Your scream is muffled against the shirt that you're halfway pulling up your torso, and it takes you -- and the blonde boy --a split second to realize that you're in the middle of changing.

Your brain shoots off.

"What the fuck!?"

"What are you doing here!?"

You yelp and he cries out a string of curse words, both whipping around while you take this chance to shove your shirt back down.

When you glance back over your shoulder, it's to see Bakugo still facing away, his body hunched and hands shoved into his pant pockets.

"Are you done!?" He bursts out so forcefully that you wince, "y--yeah. You know you could've knocked...right?"

"I know that! Dumbass!"

"Then why didn't you?" You pause, "and stop yelling at me. Why are you even here?"

Embarrassment forgotten, Bakugo turns back around as a scowl twists his face into a snarl, "why you skippin' training?"

You're about to respond when he beats you to it, "fuckin' liar. You're not even sick. The hell you playin' at?!"

"I--" how are you supposed to tell him that he is the reason for your weird ass behaviour? You want to say something, anything. But the words get stuck in your throat like sandpaper, "I felt dizzy so I decided to take it easy,"

"Don't bullshit me," advancing forward as you stumble back on surprise, your butt hits the edge of your study table as he closes in on you and somehow, though you know Bakugo's body is well-built in all the right places, he seems colossal, intimidating.

"I don't waste my time with losers," Bakugo's growl is low, and yet holds so much power, "so you better stop your pathetic whining and get your ass back in the gym--"

"Do you like me?"

The words spill out of you without warning.

You gasp. He freezes in mid-stride.

Maroon eyes meet ruby red and for a long stretch of silence, you just stare at each other.

Then, Bakugo explodes.

"Hah?! Fuck No!-- I--What--" He reels back like you just burned him, face burning up and eyes darting right, left, anywhere -- everywhere -- in order to avoid your gaze.

He looks so endearing, like a child who got caught with his hand in a cookie jar. Stepping forward with an amused smile curving along your lips, you tilt your head to the side, "are you blushing--"

"I'm not blushing! W-Why the heck would I do that?!"

"Aw, it's okay Bakugo. You're allowed to be embarrassed. It's only human."

"I'm not fucking embarrassed! Who said I was?!"

"Well," you drag the word out, taking another step closer, then another. And another until his back hits the closet door with a soft thud, "why don't you look at me then?"

And he does, because of course Bakugo will accept every challenge thrown his way, which grants you an even better view of the fiery glaze dotting his cheeks. His eyes are darting away from you but it’s clear as day that there’s more to the silent mortification swallowing him whole. There’s a mixture of embarrassment sure, but there’s also a slight weakened affirmation in the way his body leans in towards yours despite his aggressive words. 

He wants you to know, despite scolding you for constantly berating him. 

He wants you to know without having to say it himself.

Leaning back and crossing your arms over your chest, your eyebrow quirks up as you repeat your earlier question, “do you like me?” 

His entire torso stiffens. His jaw is clenched so tight you fear he might grind his teeth to pieces. 

“Bakugo,” you emphasize his name, grin widening, “it’s a yes or no question."

Still, he stays quiet, albeit grumbling softly and turning his head to the side.

"Baku--"

He snaps back with a snarl, "What?!"

You just look at him, "you know what," you reach out your arm hesitantly towards his shoulder, only for him to swat it away violently, "don't touch me!"

That hurts. Not what he says. He's always so violent. But the way he says it. It's filled with such malice it makes your eyes sting.

You blink, arm dropping and trying to ignore the way your throat tightens, "sorry," you mumble and slowly move back.

"Sorry," you repeat yourself, not quite sure what you're apologising for exactly. Maybe you might have pushed things a little too far and so start to turn away from the blonde with a nervous little laugh.

But before you realize it Bakugo's grabbed your wrist to pull you back to face him, tugging you a little closer in the process.

A small gasp dies at the back of your throat. You gaze up at him, who'a adamantly averting his eyes and gnawing so aggressively on his lower lip that you fear he might start bleeding.

"Don't--" he struggles, spitting the word out like venom, "go."

So you listen, allowing yourself to get pulled a little further into him and getting a whiff of his deodorant. It smells like caramel and a spice you can't quite place, though that's not quite what takes your attention. Not when his arm holding your wrist releases to slowly, hesitantly, wrap around your middle.

Stumbling into his chest, your breath halts. You stare up at him to find his head still turned away, so defiantly in fact, that you could've imagined the warmth of his loose embrace.

"Fuck," his curse is a mere whisper. One final tug and your face fits against his chest, "so fuckin' stupid."

You swear your heart staggers to a halt.

The moment lasts for quite a while, with him holding you close with both arms now cradling your waist, face pressed to his torso while your hands are splayed across his chest in a silence laden with the heavy weight of truth still left unsaid. You aren't quite sure what to do, what to say, and so decide to wait for the blonde to speak first, knowing full well that there's something on his mind.

"That answers your question?" His voice is deep, it makes you jump slightly in his hold.

You tilt your face upwards and are more than surprised to find him already gazing down at you. His eyes are still cold, still glinting with adrenaline and yet... there's something else.

Something you can't quite put your finger on.

"I...guess?"

"Ha?" His mouth tugs into a scowl, "how dense are you exactly?"

A small giggle erupts from your throat, "I got it," you tell him, knowing full well that for Bakugo, this is by far the most emotion he's ever let slip to anyone.

It's not much. But for now, it's enough.

-----

A/N : Will hopefully be a Part 2! Stay tuned! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! 💜

[strawberry-nugget]

Stargazing [through the five stages of grief] | K. Bakugo

★Pairing: Bakugo Katsuki/ reader

☆Synopsis: after Izukus sudden death you and Bakugo find comfort in each other

★Warnings:18+, minors do not interact, sexual themes(SMUT), aged up characters, grieving and coping mechanisms, depression as part of a stage of grief, language

☆A/N: I wrote this for @starstruckkittensweets​ 's  Summer Romance Collab collab I also cried multiple times while writing this for so many reasons. Dedicated to my friend @aichiin in hopes this is any comforting to her <3

★Word Count: 10.6K

i. denial | 3.28 am Just when you think silence is going to engulf you in lethal restraints, he's got you. Held and embraced, away from all the evil in the world, pouring a fountain of tears in the burgundy of his tank top. The beauty of the seashore is unmatched at this time of the year -end of July- honey colored sand spreading to as far as your eye can see, lining the white foams of the water perfectly. It shines under the moonlight beautifully golden, as if Midas' touch has grazed each and every speck of sand; it's almost a pity to watch some weather away in the soft evening breeze. Not many stars are visible with how bright the moon is and you simply can't stop thinking about it, the numbness in your heart as you're trying to spot the only few constellations that you know, but even them seem unable to shine brighter than the light of the moon. But he- he shoots a hand to the sky with one eye closed as he mutters something under his breath. It makes your heart pause. You don't catch it though -whatever it is he said- ears deaf to the feeling of being pressed too tightly into his broad chest -to an asphyxiating point, even- but you catch your heart fluttering again for the first time in weeks. A good sign, you guess, the little excitement that you feel can overthrow the buzzing void in your heart, or your head. "That's the Hercules one right? You've been trying to find it for years huh?" You feel the humming in his own hollow chest more than you hear the soft muttering that leaves his lips. This heat he usually emits is probably gone by now, from how tight he's holding you and you're not entirely sure why he's putting on that show for you. The soft pretending of searching for the stars when he won't let your face turn to the direction of the sky, or why he just so effortlessly knows all the constellations you've been trying to find. Under any other case you'd call him a show off, a self contrasting asshole and his sloppy hold around your chin and neck proves that you've never been this close, as expected. He doesn't know what you like or how you'd rather be held, or even, how anyone would like to be held and you don't know anything about how to handle someone like him but social expectations don't matter when comfort is needed, or whatever Mina and Ochako said. The air smells like salt and seaweed, musty and a bit heavy, but refreshing at the same time. As refreshing as hot July air could ever be yet you still find the breeze chilly, so you coo into chest even more, throwing a leg over his thighs, and flexing your palm on his ribs. In response he soothes his hand down your shoulder, trying to create some much needed friction for you. "You can drop the act now" You mutter, rubbing your cheek comfortably onto the soft cotton of his tank top

"What act?" "Trying to comfort me, trying to use me to comfort yourself" There's hurt in the way you talk, and it jabs his heart peculiarly, making him push you off his chest just one but so he can meet your gaze. When he does, you realise you've never been met with such a serious look, and your mind vibrates in what your own confrontation towards him should be. "I mean, why be comforted? We're strong. We're heroes, we-" He shushes you, with a gaze and a snake-like lisp sound that rattles out of his teeth. "What's insufferable for me, I'm guessing, is even worse for you" He clears his throat just when his voice gets a bit raspy from laying on his back "and I'm a hero, it's what I should do. He would have wanted this as well you kno-" "He would have wanted you to be yourself not try to become him" You nuzzle your nose deeper into his chest, avoiding his eyes and the prying stars that decorate the sky above, feeling watched, betrayed by how they're able to shine so brightly despite the loss you're feeling. But then again, why wouldn't they shine? Isn't life just supposed to move on even after a loved one isn't with you anymore? Stars aren't supposed to go out, to become more or less as time goes by, they've seen distraction and glory and fall -it's only you who finds

it cruel that they can still shine in times like this. "He would have wanted me to be better. It pains me more than you to admit" Katsuki has never shown such an appreciating side of himself when it comes to your late friend. Or he has and you've just not been there to witness. Or, perhaps, you've chosen to turn a blind eye to anything that's ever brought them close because you weren't the most fond of him since childhood. Yet, a feeling inside your chest commands you to oppose him and his word. Even by the comfort of his own chest. There's no denying that you've wanted to hate the one who's nothing but comforting you, but you find yourself stuck between grief and a burning heart. It leaves you numb, maybe, to think that he so graciously holds you as if nothing else in the world matters. When this shouldn't be the case. "Why, why does this have to happen to us? We're supposed to save people, losing people is-" "The biggest part of the job" He finished your words for you, strobing that little rattle of reluctance he senses in your voice "We didn't-" "Sign up for this?" You nod at his inquiry "in a way I think we did. He always pushed himself and if you say you never saw it coming, you're lying" "I didn't" "There you go" "No, no" You shake your head "he was strong. This shouldn't have happened, it's unfair and it's-" "It fucking damn is unfair but there's no rematch for him. I wholeheartedly agree, it shouldn't have been like this. We shouldn't be here, days after his damn birthday, hollow and mourning. He should have been here, we should be celebrating" He's not going to call him an idiot. Not anymore. Not even because he's hurt you or anyone as a matter of fact, but because he's come to respect his dead, he's come to lose the attitude when it comes to seeking help, or giving it. It's something Izuku has taught him, a strong moral that no longer rests in the back of his head as a possible value to characterise a hero. It's rather a reality, such a strong wave of consciousness and coinsense that washes through his body all the time. You think, qualities of Izuku, wash through your soul in waves too. "But suggestion is oceans away from reality" Katsuki whispers and just then, the tender touch of his fingers lingers in between your locks. Only for a split second, and for the sole reason of flicking some hair on top of your ear, to shield it from the chill of the air. You're not certain if you act on your grief's accord or not when you grab onto his wrist to prolong the soft petting of his hand on your head. But he complies with you wordlessly, sighing out a heavy bubble of air off his lungs. "That's not the hercules one" You whisper "Huh?" "The constellation" It's oddly satisfying how you coo deeper into his chest, even if you can't see him pop one eye open to peak at the sky "that's Ursa Major" "Like fuck it is Ursa Major" "Katsuki, is this your first time stargazing?" You ask quietly and he wraps a hand around your waist to drag you a little closer towards his chin. When he does, he rests his chin onto your hairline. "I can't believe I opened a goddamn map for this and couldn't even distinguish the hercules one from the Big Dipper" You hammer out a little giggle. It sounds mechanical but still, he mimics you, and you can not only feel the vibrations in his chest, but the movements of his chin too, as he mellowy rubs his soft skin on your hair, soothing his lips on your head from time to time. The breaths he lets out of his nose are silent, yet you feel them calming you down, so warm and so calming against you. "The Hercules is a big constellation but it's not bright at all, you have to catch it on a moonless night and it's usually gone too early" Katsuki sighs. The process of taking in your words in analogy with late Izuku is too strong and it's too early for him to touch a subject that even so reminds him of the situation. It's more than enough that you two got to talk about it tonight, or rather, about your feelings, but at one point the line is drawn on what's harmful to his soul. A sole mention of the condition of a constellation should be making his stomach churn, and it definitely shouldn't make him hug you tighter into him. For one, the phenomenon of the constellation's nature has been around for longer than he has been who he is, and will still be when he's not. This small coincidence, even if it rubs salt to the wound, is not the fault of a small mass of stars gathered together to form something human eyes can recognize as a kneeling figure. Izuku's life is probably just a parallel to the greek myth of hercules, or so, he likes to glorify, but when it comes to him, there's noass of stars for anyone to remember him by.

Izuku falls and dies so long as the memories of his friends live, finding shelter behind a myth, a legend, a course change in the history of humankind that lead to this specific moment. Him, mourning with you, on the beach that Izuku cleaned years ago, feeling his heart ache in sync with yours. And maybe, maybe if- "If I close my eyes and fall asleep, will I wake up and realise that this is all a bad dream?" You ask as if you don't know what the answer is going to be and he tries to not indulge in feeding you a void of hopes just to make you feel a bit more sure of your future, or try to convince himself he'll have a good one too. He wants to reply positively, just as much as he wants to wake up too in a reality where Izuku is still alive, and he's got to say everything he's ever wanted. He knows, some nights he'll find himself thinking he would like to go back and change the course of his own history, whatsoever, to never hurt Izuku for naturally having qualities he had to work for, or change the fact that he's been harsh and cruel. The 'why us' inquiry that arises in his chest as he's stroking the slightly greasy hair on your scalp is what's left to bounce in his head for now, eating away every curly corner of his brain, turning any other thought into a wasteland, yet, still his answer to you is what he would rather not hear, bathed in a cruel nature he's tried so hard to lose from his persona. "I wish it were just one bad dream" There's so many questions in his head; are you asleep? Or will he hurt you by trying to force himself into accepting Izuku's death? Are you prone to being hurt and pricked by how raspy and serious his voice sounds? Because you don't make a noise, nor a sniffle, and your hand isn't tightening around the collar of his shirt anymore. He wishes too, it's all a bad dream. For the lover that you lost, and for the person he's known better than anyone, the person that knew him better than anyone. But it's not. And the mellow sound of waves crashing on the shore bears a tune to convince him to forget, but the water won't reflect the stars he can see with his bare eyes. Thus he's asleep before the lurking darkness in sound and sight gets him too. Just for a while, just until it's his own turn to face oblivion. A small part of his brain, though, convinces him he'd face any oblivion so long as he gets to fall asleep in your arms like that, over the soft, warm sand, on a chilly July night. 

ii. anger | 9.47 pm If you could only know the reason you're yelling, tears wouldn't be spilling from the corners of your eyes, down your cheeks just to drown on your overly stretched mouth, wetting the lips that are stinging in splits and bruises of dehydration. He's not one to back down while facing the disdain of his own feelings. When that disdain should be directed on how petty the cause for your irritation is, you're both focused on the snap of nerves inside each of your heads, chests heaving as you're staring at each other dead in the eye; you, from the cold seat of your couch, Katsuki, from the numbing howling that seeps through the cracks of your front door. The bags in his hands are heavy with groceries and the weight of this peculiar, unspoken agreement to settle together. It's hidden in the affection behind every piece of vegetable and fruit in the tote bags. Even if the night is young, he's got a look in his eyes that mutters how

willing he actually is to grab a pot and a spoon and cook for the two of you. But you know- he shouldn't put pressure on himself after a late patrol for a chore you were supposed to fulfill. If only he wasn't on your ass about ordering take out. "You can't fucking order again." He speaks, grunting more so than accentuating the words as he probably should. But he's irritated you, so much that you've spent the last ten minutes yelling at each other while standing frozen in your places. Probably, a neighbor has heard and your mere response to the alarming social anxiety that arises from that fact is apathy. You're already directing a big amount of angry spouting at the blond, there's no such room to experience other feelings right now. "Fucking hell, Katsuki just stop! I don't fucking care if you think ordering isn't fucking good. I can't cook right now. I won't cook" You say in a higher pitch "and you won't cook either" When he opens his mouth to speak, you roll your eyes, away from him -you just know what he's going to say- though you instantly regret it. The sight of him frozen, with bags in his hands before your door is upsetting, and begs to stir up your mind in horrid imaginations of him throwing a tantrum at you and leaving you, of him never opening up his door to you ever again. Maybe, just maybe you should have thought this through better before yelling at him. "Fuck you" He says through greeted teeth and scrunched up nose huffs "fuck fuck fuck fuuuuck" He's not a punching bag, he's the only person who's here for you and your heart won't forgive you if you lose him. Your head turns or snaps to his direction, eyes too gooey to meet his gaze properly, but you still do look at him so desperately, you're sure your heart makes a ripping sound at its very seams. And that firm dedication of his to closing himself off is evident again; in that wet anger in the corner of his eyes, seeping like magma just at the tips but never falling down on his cheeks. In his pursed lower lip -and oh, will it be so infuriating to think, you don't wanna fight, you just want him to press those lips against your forehead and forget those arguments that always arise? As he's headed for the kitchen, step after step and upper lip overlapping the bottom one to hide his irritation, his eyes are averted from you and you chase after him with counted movements; a little limp to your left leg by sitting on it for a long time bubbling up inside your bones. Unwillingly, non-eagerly. Regret and remorse for yourself are feelings that rush through you, making your tongue run faster than your mouth, making your head dizzy with guilt and drowning you of a trillion of things you want to say to him. "Katsuki" You plead with half a breath, eyebrows forming an impossible frown above your eyes "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have yelled, i-" "Fucking save it. Order if you want, I don't care" "Katsuki-" He huffs air too harshly out of his scrunched up nostrils again and shuts his eyes closed, hands resting over the groceries as he's leaning over the kitchen table. Not once in the minute he's taking from himself does he spare you a glance, but you can rather listen to him mutter a soft 'be patient' under his own breath. To himself, you realise, but your heart's too heavy as you anxiously suck your upper lip inside your mouth, wondering -will an apology fix this? It may irritate him even more, and taking the risk is probably not worthy of him getting riled up, but you go for it nonetheless, hidden away behind the stall that separates the kitchen from the living room. Your little hiding spot for the moment, a place where you can safely hide behind as you choke on your own spit, trembling at the thought of any possible outcome of your next choice of words. "I'm sorry, I'm just, I'm snappy lately" He won't respond and you notice how he's counting his breathing with eyes still shut, though, ever so slightly; that's your sign to step back, give him space and time as you make your first step to the living room. Though small glimmers of regret

springle inside your heart, landing in small needle-like jabs on every stretchy wall of the overly sensitive organ, your brain begs to be the voice of common sense, just to push you to just give him space. But what if he doesn't want space. What if he wants to be held? Like you do. What if he doesn't want to fight? "I'm sorry" You mutter under your breath, again Your step is almost crippled as you try to approach him, lost and scared at the sight of him still struggling to compose himself still. The guilt in your gut is immense and spreading like a wildfire on rotten land, but you feel like, perhaps, you -and him consequently- soothe down when your hand touches his shoulder, or, when your forehead rests easy on the crook of his neck, just after you out your weight on your toes, You can't help but repeat your previous statement. "I'm sorry, talk to me, tell me if you're good or not" He grunts, letting out a short breath in the form of a sigh. 'I'm not', you translate and your chest tightens Your right hand comes to curl around his chest over his shoulder, your left, mechanically even, cripples around his waist enough so you can press his back into your chest. "Fuck i-" You don't make a move to shush him "I feel so bad, I just. What would he have to say about me if I left his girlfriend on her own, to eat crap everyday. That's not healthy for you. I shouldn't be fucking yelling. I shouldn't-" He's so out of breath, that you consider punching some air into his lungs, with the softest CPR to have ever been performed, but the thought leaves your head immediately, your heart drowning your stomach in guilt at the imagery of your lips on his. The snap to reality after that little moment is so intense, you don't know how you handle yourself and your heart. "I shouldn't be yelling" In all your years, you've never heard him be so sincere while being so furious. When it's true that he's nothing of getting into drama or anything of sort, Katsuki is always too prideful to admit when he's made a mistake. You figure, it's unfair to still judge him as if he's his UA self, or his middle school self even. He's a different person now, having lived through so many events that could crush even the most strong willed person -and that's what he gets from admiring All Might, you think- and all he's ever done is try to be here for you. Understanding each other in such difficult times is mandatory and compromise is a foundation that you both need to work on. You find yourself opening your mouth and shutting it again for several seconds as you're trying to voice it. The dry, chapped feeling of your lips colliding makes you want to shut your eyes and wordlessly communicate your thoughts to him, but it's impossible. For your quirk isn't transmitting your thoughts to others, nor is it keeping track of one's thoughts. Everything you do to comfort him, has to be done by yourself, strictly. "Katsuki, I don't want you to-" You nuzzle your face into his back in hopes that perhaps, it muffles the intensity of your speech "I don't want you to overwork yourself for me. Izuku-" His name is whispered like words of sin or ruthless statements of atrocities, when it shouldn't "-wouldn't let me do that to you." He doesn't talk, or sigh, or even place his hand on yours and a whole minute passes like that. Or two, or three, or an eternity. The clock is ticking so loud that it's unbearable, his heartbeat muffling your ears while his scent is musking your nose. It's a funny thing, that perhaps, everything feels so warm, so comforting like this, you'd like to keep hugging him, if he allows you too. For as long as this minute's eternity can last. "Don't leave me cause I'm angry and snappy" It's so barely audible that you think he's only trying to calm himself down again, but it strikes you like a swift slash of a sword to your chest to realize the weight of his words. You thought you were the only one feeling this way. 'Don't leave me'. As if- as if it's an option that's hunting the depths of his chest, or perhaps as if your situation isn't a granted part in your lives for a little over a month. You're not one to inquire of a person in panic why they said what they said or if there's a cryptic meaning behind his very words. Because, frankly, there isn't. He's pretty clear, even while being tenderly desperate about it. And oh, you feel your heart pull and pinch at the thought of it.

"I'm not leaving" "Good" When he turns to face you, he's gripping onto your palms like it's painted out to be for dear life, a plea to not let him go as he turns his body around; you feel as if he needs you, as if, you're necessary to comfort him as well. You're too far gone in the joy that gathers in your stomach to hear him utter the words "I'm not leaving either" but you find some meaning of this statement in his embrace, when he shoves you into his chest. There's a little awkward cripple to your gaze that causes you to steal a stare outside the window or, perhaps, it's something bigger, or even the drive in your heart to hope for something more as an outcome for this. In the worst case scenario, you're pleading for forgiveness, if, by any chance, Izuku is still out there and can witness this little happening. That's when you find it, and truly, you have to catch a second glance at it to feel certain about what you just saw. Subtle little shimmers of stars, painting a large part of the sky, patiently awaiting to be noticed, in agony and tiredness that only a hero could recognize. And if you're a hero, you can feel it too, the kneeling of the legs, the flexing of the arms -it's all there- drawn by little stars of other galaxies in front of your very eyes, after searching for them for years. That's perhaps what people mean when they say, happiness is found in small things. Katsuki's arms around you, his faint breathing grazing the skin of your nape tenderly as he's calming himself down is more than enough, but the sky tonight has managed to make a compromise for the two of you, shining the diamond colors of the hercules constellation to the two of you. It's a blink and you'll miss it, no reason to break away from his arms, so you coo into his mellowy neck, speaking against his skin. "I found it, the hercules constellation" "What? Where" He's not shook at all as he speaks, and it doesn't surprise you either; there's this dazzling tranquility in the air, so much for getting you to calm down after such rage, but you'll take it over anything else, anytime. When Katsuki seems to detach his resting lips from the crook of your neck, he lays the side of his face on the very spot, inquiring again about the location of the constellation. You're more than happy to provide him with an answer. He drags you to the balcony with slow steps, a million steps away from the lights of your apartment as it seems before snapping his head towards the sky, squinting his eyes to comb through any star he could probably set his gaze on. You help him find it, not because it's before his very eyes, but because something inside you is flickering to rush you. Hurry it up. Look at the pretty stars and embrace him again, because it feels good, and you don't mind that you get mad at yourself for thinking this way. You don't even want to question your morals as thoughts of holding his hand pass through your head. Maybe a finger or two tangled in his like messy strands of hair, too hard to detangle- maybe that'd be comforting. Perfect even. Despite your best efforts to tickle his pointer finger with yours shyly, you come to realise he won't respond -you better behave, or, you should have know, but the insecurities that make you question everything are as evident as they'll ever be- you wonder if you've made him uncomfortable. But he's wrapping an arm around your shoulders, by grabbing that hand you're using to guide his gaze across the constellation and this time you can't help, but tangle all of your fingers through his, like a hair clam, fitting so perfectly, your heart cracks even more than last time. "I can pop some rice in the rice cooker and you can buy some Teriyaki" He sighs, though not once does he pry his eyes away from the stars

And that's where you feel a weight lifting off your shoulders, only to drop to your stomach; it's not a half hearted compromise, rather, it's sincere, something so eerie and far away from the usual 'take it or leave it' Katsuki Bakugo, but… you'll take it. With a broken smile and a coo into his shoulder. You turn to look at the stars as well, and Katsuki cracks a small smile now that you can't see it, because compromising actually feels good, relieving or whatever. He doesn't want to think about whether, in any sense, he's on your mind or not, he'd rather show you a piece of his own mind, a crack opening to see inside his heart -it's almost too painful that he has to be the one to calm things down. He's never been one to do so, but standing on his feet right now is mandatory. For you, him, whatever the two of you have got going on, because if not, coping won't be effective. He likes to think, you have each other in this, and that's enough for him. To keep things peaceful he has to take an occasional step back, and if that's the price to pay, he guesses he will. Izuku may be gone, he may have turned the two of you into what seems an unfixable broken mess, but at least he's left you with each other. Perhaps, he'll once appear again, in the form of new love, or a smile on your face at the sight of an old childhood photo, and things will be fine again. If only he could have been kinder, or better, or not as competitive, he wouldn't be sorry or trying to fix his own self. For now though rice and teriyaki ought to be the only problems he wants to face.

iii. bargaining | 7.30pm "What if I could have prevented this?" His voice is anything but loud, his chest too hollow, bouncing the voice of his concern around the broadness of his muscles, just to graze into your ears in soft vibrations. The statement alone makes you perk up and swoon your face away from him, hands laid flat and firm against his petrocals as you're finally fixing him with a gaze. Saturdays always bite his ass and Sundays are ever so depressing. This weekend is no less easy for the two of you. Katsuki's barely able to slur words without hissing or cursing, seeing as his jaw is bandaged up by being sliced by a villain at work today, and you've both decided that it's best if he gets to have an early night. "You'll be fine by next week, I'll help you change your bandages" He shakes his head before he buries his face behind his palms, as if trying to hide his emotions from you; you give him the right, with a worried face to match the situation "Not that, shit- no 'm taking 'bout Izuku" Oh You can't really place yourself into why but you've been having the same thoughts as of late. It's only natural, you dare say, to convince yourself not to be persistent on guilt tripping that little mellow voice in your head that tried to tell you that everything's going to be fine in the end, but it's in vain- for every time this happens you have to find a new way to occupy yourself to shove the destructive thoughts away. It's probably not right in any sense, to prompt Katsuki to ignore the problem as well, but the thudding of your heart -always matched perfectly by the raindrops that hit on the roof of the house hard enough to make you feel oh so concerned- commands you to find a new coping mechanism to add to your little pile. "I- I just-" A look in his eyes and you're lost in a trance of whether you're going to break his heart by momentarily avoiding talking. It is more than enough to convince you to voice something, anything, but every word that sparks at the back of your brain is washed by astounding waves of anxiety that have your tongue swim in the sea of your mouth. You don't come up with anything to say for as long as a moment lasts. "It's like- I should have been there! I turned down that fucking call because I was sure he could do this on his own" "Katsu" "He fucking- I fucking- I-" "Hey, stop it-" You plea "It doesn't make it any different, I know that but-" He snaps

quicker than you can imagine, prospering away from another call of his name that slips from your lips. Irises turn away from you in wrinkly eyes, furrowed brows and pursed lips. His heart is palpitating so fast, his eyes flicker in what you can read is pain, maybe, you could take some blame to yourself. Not that you have any right trace if thought to come up with comfort, or rather, not like you have it in you to let Katsuki assign this all on himself. "I could-" You start, yet your mouth is dry "I could have been there as well-" It's such an awkward miniscule moment that you share but it's enough to make your heart feel like it's breaking in regret. You're only left to wonder if your friends are feeling that way too, about Izuku's call for reinforcements that Katsuki turned down, that none of them tended to on time. "Don't put this on you" Your stomach, unable to cooperate with any plea of yours to not drown in anxiety, stirs its contents to it's desire, making you sit up; Katsuki's embrace is too void for you right now, your chest is way too hollow for you to not feel alienated. It's in moments like these that you know trying to handle yourself or your life with each other is probably a mistake, a false emotional dependency that should not exist otherwise, and you always hope he gets to prove those intrusive thoughts of yours otherwise. You're taken aback when warm hands find their way around you; it's unexpected and you flinch, but you're soothed the moment your brain processes who it is that's hugging you, bringing you back to reality and breaking your short lived dissociation. He presses his ear onto the crook of your neck, this time, not hissing at the way his wounds ache as his skin tubs on yours. He notices that certain way your breathing's working and he sighs in relief, or sorrow, for he's too scared to ever speak of what's hiding in his chest, or what's adding to him feeling so twisted and evil. "Wanna go for a ride?" He says, unexpectedly, surprising even himself by how absurd it sounds "Where to?" "Niko" He purrs and you let out a giggle "That's too far silly" "I 'on know, heard it's pretty this time of the year" You finally turn around to him, only slightly so as to not disturb his embrace and ruffle a hand through his hair, and pause just before your lips find his forehead. Somewhere deep inside of you it hurts for this to feel so casual, a loving interaction with Katsuki of all people. It feels like some sick trick of betrayal but your eyes are burning onto his skin while your world moves in slow motion. A hand on his cheek isn't as harmful as the addition of another one, yet you still go for that choice, dry lips inevitably set onto pale pink skin, pressing a soft kiss of comfort. "We could go at that spot, near UA, we used to go there a lot when we were high schoolers" Katsuki's words are calm and collected, hidden between gritted teeth so he can appear like his chest is fuller than yours, but what you don't know is that his heart is trying to beat out of his chest, like it's the most secretive, harsh prison. He briefly wonders if by knowing so, you'll hurt as much as him. But your kiss on his forehead, the warm place in which he rests face against your chest it all points to you feeling the same- it's there and he can read every single sign, whether he wants to deny them or not. "Should I get dressed?" A grunt this prolonged means yes. And truth be told the set and scenery of this small driving outlet is almost idyllic; a silent car ride, tainted faces and the gloomy watery corners of one's eyes to match the pouring rain, the slow, mellow music matching in beats with the squeaky wipers. What a perfect, diligent harmony you've got. It feels like a cut to another scene in a slow paced movie. The time is still stuck at 8.15, signifying how it wasn't long ago that you were starting to drown in a pool of bargaining -and voicing it out loud- and a part of you is still sad for thinking that maybe, for Katsuki, you're a coping mechanism. A full rembrandt of what's left of

Izuku's that he doesn't want to give up. You keep wondering if that would be the case had he still been alive. Would he ever have such an attitude stored inside of him for you had you not been dating Izuku on what now counts as ancient history? He parks his car on a narrow little road that splits the woods in half and turns the engine off. Seeing that it's November already, you think about how this is a bad idea, you know how cold he gets, and he's not wearing any jacket but you keep it to yourself. Perhaps, had Izuku been here, he would have brought an extra jacket too. For now, it's foggy windows and died down warm breaths. Thus, with a quivering lip you settle lower into your seat and sigh. "I- I know you like stargazing" He coughs, vermillion eyes pacing back and forth between you and the rain that's clashing on the car's glass "and I got an app and a window on the roof of my car" "But it's raining" "Who caaaares!" He grunts when you pout and turns away from you, something that makes your stomach coil abrasively. You want him to look at you, you want him to- As ridiculous and bitter as it sounds, you're tired of asking yourself if any of this would be happening were Izuku still here. Because he's got a stupid little fucking app on his phone for you. Because you're dying to press your lips onto his skin again. Half an hour ago feels like an eternity has passed already. He cares about you enough to open the app -and switch the location of his phone on- and that's more than enough actually. You glue your eyes to the bright screen and follow it as it pops us with a dark window, asking for confirmation that it's authorized to use the camera of Katsuki's phone. A part of you sinks in the silent death of love at the thought that, yes, he downloaded this just for you. Joy in little things, you figure, is what keeps you grounded, it's what ultimately pushes you to rest your head on his shoulder as he lifts his phone up, facing it on the small opening on the roof of his car. "Can't see past all this water, dammit" "So?" You coo, and the previous small irritation in his voice dies down with a grunt that comes from the depths of his chest. "The app's fine. Feels just like stargazing." You've never done anything similar with Izuku. And there's not even a spec of comparison clouding over your head, despite the guilt that settles in your stomach once again. Looking up to Katsuki, you can see his jaw tensing in the slightest, most probably in pain -you wonder, does his wound still ooze- and you can't help but feel like your eyes are stinging. You sniffle nonetheless. And Katsuki retreats his shoulder, letting your head hang without support as he turns to you. "Maybe, even if we can't see them, they're still there and-" You purse your lips to the side of your cheek, thinking of a reply, anything to say to make his words seem like they've come out of his mouth. "You've turned into quite the poet lately, haven't you?" Your answer should be that no, he hasn't, he's just hurt and confused, numb and afraid, but in turn you're all those things as well, or so he speculates by looking in your eyes. Because he can read people, he can read you, and as much as this has been established, he can't find it in him to speak a word on it. Then again, what's the point in holding anything in if you're going to die one day? The life of a hero is expendable, he's got his rise and fall as number one set in stone, so why should he hold back? He can't bring Izuku back even if he wants to, and he can't possibly stop himself from feeling for you. He remembers finding salvation in holding Izuku down and apologizing. He now finds humility in words that are spoken from his mouth that slip past his consciousness. "I love you- Don't care if it's fucking raining or not- Fuck" There's no time for you to think of a response before he throws a fit; his phone is slammed on the backseat, rocketing to the floor, and the click of his door is heard before he steps out of the car and slams it shut. He's lucky- the rain covers most

of the scream that he let's out and fills the buzzing void in your chest, your head. He said the words first, and your head is pulling you instinctively to your right, just where he was a few moments ago, you want to see if he's facing you, you long to feel your eyes meet his. You manage to collect the only ever courage you have left and push the thought of Izuku away from your mind, click your door open and shoot out of the car. Just like him. Like you're his echo. "Don't say a fucking word" He dismisses your open mouth, as if he can hear your breath clearer than this deafening rain, but you're not having it. "But i- i" "Shut up, as if you know-" "But I feel the same way" You whisper "What" He yells, and you scream at him to get back in the car, so you can talk, clearer. Though when he does, he's burning his eyes on your lips, then your eyes, then he never makes any move towards you, as if everyone and anything is on you. But none of you takes the bigger leap towards each -justified, because there's trembling in your movements and hesitation in your heads. And then your lips meet his. Tenderly, painfully, religiously Your first kiss is cursed by numbing ache, but it feels so right, like the warmest summer evening, or the most hazing bonfire during a cold winter night. Regret can't eat you alive for that one. And Katsuki, even with his lips still pressed against yours knows he will think about this kiss as a sin and a betrayal for far too long, he knows it'll torment him through the darkness of whatever tonight could mean. If only he gets through this night, he'll be fine Tomorrow you'll wake him up with a soft "how'd you sleep'' again and he'll be fine. The void and guilt inside his chest will get filled up with the warmness of being embraced first thing in the morning. Perhaps in time he'll convince himself that Izuku would never mind what's going on between the two of you, if you're meant to be endgame.

iv. depression | 12.07 am

Soft bubbles that smell like carnation and the auburn flicker of the fire that shines on top of a plethora of candles set the atmosphere for this evening. The lack of bright light -being that the whole city has been in a black out for several hours- is gentle to yours and Katsuki's eyes. What should have been matched with some of the artificial warmth the heater next to the bathtub, that should be providing for the two of you. Instead, it's him that keeps the temperature high.

Your muscles hurt and his wounds ache, as always, after a tiring day of hero work. You guess that's your daily nature; after hours and hours of overworking your body and soul, two people like you only get to spend the little time they have together like this. Late at night, curled up against each other, borderline sleeping in a bathtub. You're sure the water has a pinkish red tint to it -somewhere, a wound of his or yours is bleeding more that you'd like to believe is natural.

Katsuki is unbothered to check who's wounds are worse.

For the first time in a while, his mouth isn't dry, or chapped, a killer to his heart, for he can't find the right choice of words to spell to you. He should be fine with having you curled up against his chest, but somewhere along the way he finds it hard to experience the warmth he's trying to emit. And he thinks he finds your response to this unspoken mind trick when he cups your hands with his, checking at your fingers. Not a single prune or puckered line to clasp a non indifferent reaction from the back of his brain.

He's content with the way time seems to have stopped, trapping you in a moment filled with cold granite tiles and blood spoiled water that smells like lavender. In a movement he abandons your hands, watching them float over his. You hum -it's warm and welcoming, as if you're saying you're content too- and rest the back of your head to the crook of his neck.

His only reply is to nuzzle his nose into your neck as well. Placing a tiny kiss to the skin against his lips, tangling his fingers through your wet hair.

Small reassuring acts of

love with nothing special into them help you relax completely into him. "Kinda nice that you can see the stars so bright tonight" If you're looking for a cynical answer, then Katsuki's ever your man. "Of course they'd show when it's pitch black outside. What'd ya expect?" With your eyes glued to the glass ceiling for a long while you wonder, what did you expect really? Words that spiral in your brain are always spoken, leaving you numb and inquiring, searching for an answer in the deepest curves of your brain. When burning your eyes into his will never work, he decides to let his gaze melt holes in the vast of his bathroom windows. The beauty of minimalism leaves him cold and lonely, as if there's facelessness in the black veil of the sky that mimics the inside of his home. He curls into you by pressing you against his chest tighter. You never ask him why his bathroom is built the way it is -with that little corner window in the ceiling, neither does he know what he'd answer to you were you ever in a position to. He doesn't know how to apologize for being who he is, or his that window makes him feel like he used to be assured and secured on what was assigned to him by birth. (His parents’ money, a strong quirk.) He doesn't know how to apologize for still living in traits of his life that could make you feel like he's been everything but fair to Izuku. And all you probably think about, he convinces himself is that It'd be ironic to say that you mind having a view of the stars while having a midnight bath. It's a full moon tonight too -the glowing sky orb floating just above the furthest line of the horizon, illuminating the sky. And you, with your eyes shut by now and facing the glass ceiling, seem like you feel the weight of the moon pulling you in. What Katsuki knows for sure is that you have a terrible migraine that has you frowning horrendously. It's because of the fool moon, you'll say when the blond asks you why you're suffering, it always gives you migraines and he'll sit by you as you're making him his bath, holding your hand while he asks you to join him. He's nothing but a lover of roughness and void, he doesn't know how you're still with him, or how you ever fell for him. He feels slow, like a worn out tire, washed to a shore by the sea. But his hands, calloused and sculpted harshly even only by the -not so many- years of being a pro, aid to your comfort, not in his need to be a hero -more like, in his need to be human, or not feel inadequate, to not feel like his life is a pit of guilt because Izukus is over. And it has been for a long time. And his, is taking turns so abruptly that his gut churns and pleads. Two bulky thumbs run over your eyebrows, smoothing the short coarse hair and soothing the bone, swooning the sore pain away; it feels like custom made heaven, sweet and fluffy, and the water in the bathtub won't get cold, nor will his hands. You're so relaxed into him, bones turned into jelly and skin tingling at his touch. Every circle he's rubbing on your forehead is releasing tension you didn't know you had piled up. The soft splashes of water are merely inaudible when compared to his heartbeat, but you can't feel it. Not yet. It's not tense enough for him to feel like his heart is beating out of his chest. "You any better?" Cold. Brutal. Almost as if his hands belong to someone else, but that's Katsuki for you, or anyone else as a matter. You turn your head to him, wearing a tiny, worn out smile as you lean you mean into him, clashing your lips over his, bumping your nose to his cupid's bow when you're done. Katsuki, you're sure, closes his eyes in a feeling that doesn't seem pleasant and you do the most expected thing -retreat. It hurts; watching you slip away, turn your head to face the stars outside of his window, wiggle your body away from his, to collect your knees and press them against your chest. It's devastating how a small denial to a kiss can harm you in such a way. It's either his fault, or yours. Because somewhere deep inside his head he's convinced

himself he's a rebound. Someone you'll get over when you start getting better. And he's probably convinced himselfhes viewing you in this way, somehow. "You could have at least kissed me back" You whisper, shivering. The water is cold, finally, it was so nice while the warmth washed over your skin. Almost like a lie. "I-" He huffs, buries his head into his wet palms. He can't speak, for if he does, the crack in his voice, the high pitch of it, will snitch on his torment. He tries to shove it away, when he shoots his hands to your direction, trying to pull you into him again. When it doesn't work, you swear you see the corners of his eyes sparkle just a tad. It's alienating, when you've seen him cry and have numerous break downs, more times than you've seen him smile or laugh, you feel like you're foreign to the slight emotion that gathers in his eyes, now forming a pit, never spilling down the harsh lines of his cheeks. The moment a salty streak appears on his skin, you can help but wonder, what would happen if only you could stop your own tears from falling. You can't ask him to talk to you, it's more than obvious. You're deprived of any logical sentence forming mechanism in your brain, knees like jelly, arms heavy as two whole buildings in the verge of collapsing. One word of his and your heart will unleash all the ache that gathers slowly in your throat. "'M not just here cause Izuku died" There you go, not once, but seven times, feeling your heart pierce holes in your body, hanging from his every word, cursing yourself when you grasp his meaning. Wild and unleashed and raw, a plea, an inquiry. A way of masking his insecurity and it's your fault he's feeling this way. "You're not," You start, lost and perplexed "I love y-" But it does down faster than you would have wanted it. You turn your head away from him for a second. With the moon so high, and the city lights non existent, you can distinguish the Taurus constellation, just below the moon, and so very faint. Your throat is tight, your neck is sore, your voice won't come out -you wonder why astrology is right about Taurus controlling the throat- and you don't know how to make him feel good about himself. If only you can show him the constellation he'll be fine, right? Do zodiac constellations make him as excited as they make you? Or is that just a role he's taken upon himself to stick with you? His lips clash with yours, water splashing around you as he shifts, and he hugs you close to him. It's your cue, to close your eyes and move your lips in sync. Its a sullen form of desire, that dangerous one, where you get his lips to bleed from how hard you bite down onto his lip and twist and pull and clash him into you again because you can't get enough. You tell yourselves you have to live for this present, even if the past makes it unbearable. Just when your hearts feel like they'll jump out of your chests and dissolve into the lavender smelling bubbles, this time painting the water in a deep carmine, you clash your chest to his and he feels as if, he's wanted, here and now, even if the feeling won't last for long. And then it's hands that roam bruised skin, fingers than dig into softness or thick muscle, fingernails that dig into scalps painfully, until they draw blood as your teeth clash. It's passion, and only in the way your hips ghost over his, swaying in the water, as he's grunting "see, am kissing you back" and "We'll never be clean at this rate" "I'll massage your head when we're done" You breathe, pulling back for a second, as he sucks a spot on your neck, handling your back just to press your chest to his face. "Fuck, I love yo-" You shush him with your mouth on his, forehead sticking to his when a slit on your nose gets smashed when it scrunches against his cheek. He doesn't have to say it, you don't have to hurt him like this. It almost doesn't matter -the cold- when he pulls you to the edge of the bathtub and buries himself into you, you simply shiver by the way his thumb rubs your clit, thrusting your hips in rhythm to

meet his. And he bites on to your collar bones, eyes teary and heart heavy after he lets you set the pace, occasionally thrashing into your touch, his gut churning more and more as you go. It's only when he takes matters into his own hands -lifting you and pressing your back again the wall, putting out some candles I'm the process- hand on your face to shove some hair away, and legs wrapped securely around him that you both find release. Screaming in agony, crying in what could be mistaken for pain, sticking your foreheads together as your breaths tingle into one hot huff of air that travels up and way from you. You lock eyes with him, just before he lets his body collapse into the water, limbs numb and sore. "Please don't leave too." You whisper, sinking down just behind him, fetching for the shampoo bottle from behind you. He doesn't respond. Instead, he mimics you and rests his head on the crook of your neck, eyeing you backwards, pressing his lips into an upwards line. You're not sure you'll be able to get over this void soon, and you can't help but plead. Later, as you're washing through his hair, you show him the Taurus constellation and his eyes beam like a child's when he says "hey I'm a Taurus" all while tending trying to tend for the bite that he left on your shoulder. He doesn't ask to find the cancer constellation. You don't remember where to find it. The moon is too bright for you to even try.

v. acceptance | 6.59 am

The last rembrand of a star shines in a portrait of purples and oranges. The beautiful afterglow of the previous night, the first ray of sun washes its shine away, almost entirely, before a second can come. To paint the sky in blues, sprinkle the marine shade as to spoil the darkness' leftovers.

The night star, or morning star, tolerates a third, then forth ray of sunlight, and your watery eyes flicker at the scene, your head curling deeper into Katsuki's chest, humming as his hand wraps tighter around you, rubbing frantically over your skin to create some friction. It's only then that you're reminded how beautiful warmth is.

Your ear is cold -after Katsuki's doing while playing with the roots of your hair- and you tuck it under a few strands, instantly noticing the difference in temperature. Katsuki is cold as well, shivering slightly even with the blanket that's wrapped around the two of you. You can't help but wish that you were in bed, curled in a blanket cocoon, sleeping in the most sappy, eerie way.

But spending the night at the beach in early September night's has been a favorite activity of yours for the past few years. Long gone are the July nights spent in agony at the beach in Musutafu, nights that have allowed you to know Katsuki like the back of your hand. You can't take them back, replace them with memories of a happier process of getting to know him. You're not sure he wants to do that too.

He yawns slightly, squishing your head under his elbow to rub his tired eyes, breaking the loudsy inhale to chuckle at your pretend squirming. Avoiding your hair as to not hurt you while scratching the stubble hair on his cheeks -flinching slightly at it- before he moves your hair away from your ear, laughing trumphically at his doing.

"Nooo, I'm cold"

He chuckles again, running the tips of his fingers through your hair and tapping his palm over your ear. "Better now?"

"Katsu!"

You smile into his chest, trying to muffle your giggles, deciding to cook into him further.

His heart might as well burst. He thinks to himself that this is more than something he could have asked for, years of putting the effort in being with you awarding him in moments like this. Moments where he can see Venus shine faintly in the sky, feeling blessed by the planet of love as he places kisses to the top of your head.

I'm times like these, it's hard to look back and remember he used to beat himself over trying to convince himself he was drawn to you only because Izuku died. It feels like there's more behind it. Some karmic pull, some aligned stars, fates arranged in such a way that

you were meant to end up in this moment. Even if none of this is true and he's lost in superstitial bullshit, trying to explain things with something that bears no resemblance to simple logic, he figures there aren't any fresh wounds in his body. Time has flown since the last time he caught himself bathing in his own blood, but he's not reckless any more -neither are you- he doesn't go tormenting himself with wounds that will take long to heal. He can't remember times that have been tougher than this. But he's attached to the warm sand, moist still from the night's angry chill, so much that he slips one hand out of the blanket and sinks it low into the ground. It's so pleasant that he doesn't feel the ground pulling him in, or down. He's got a heart that will withstand his will to get up any time he wants to, and a pair of legs that will at his command, a chest that heaves with breaths while you're showering him with kisses. He won't get to spend an eternity like this, not even as many years as he thinks will be enough for him to enjoy this, but he's figured that there's eternity hinged in every moment, of taking care of yourself before you take care of someone else, so you don't hurt others around you. He's surprised with how much he's changed; he is aware that change is inevitable, through all the compromises that he's had to not condemn, all the soft words he's forced himself to say to you, to himself, to the point he's become softer, mellowed. Knowing he'd never forgive himself if he came to lose you to his grief. "We should get up, I'm sure Mina and Ochaco will be freaking at this point." He chuckles, hiding his tongue in the back of his mouth, as if to fish for a reply. "Kirishima and Denki will-" "Let the fuckers do as they wish, it's my wedding day, I decide when I show up. I can't with this enthusiasm" "Oh my god" You fake gasp, clapping your mouth "this is it? You're not going to marry me? You've lost your spark? Oh me. Oh my, whatever do I do?" You laugh, feeling the vibrations of his chest as he's laughing too, ruffling your hair in the messiest way he can imagine "There, now your hair is unfixable and I get to say it's you who left me at the altar" You burst out in giggles as you're trying to get up -efforts wasted in vain, because he's pulling you back onto him, for a kiss, one that makes your lips feel like cotton candy that slowly melts away, fuzzily yet so watery and with such delicacy. He gets up soon after you, folding the blanket neatly -too neatly- only pausing to take in the moment. Blue blotch after blue blotch is flooding the sky, almost every hint of purple gone, giving in to that warm tangerine light of the early sun. Katsuki sighs and you link your arms around his elbow. Content, happy. And he'd be lying if he said he wasn't much of those himself. There's nothing holding him back. And so, he guesses, this is goodbye. The official one. Not melded with an apology, not fueled by regret. It's a silky woven letting go. There are no tears left for him to shed, there's no more trembling to violently shake your body awake at night. There's nothing but good in the memory of Izuku. Not even the subtle wish for him to be here, and happy with you. As the bright, starry light of Venus is outshone by the sun, he places another kid to the top of your head. "I'll see you at 5" "I'm going to be fashionably late" You argue, turning around to wield your hands around his neck and almost linking your lips to his. "Don't you fucking dare" He kisses you "Or what? You'll blow everyone to pieces?" He kisses you again, then again, then once more. "Might as well" And that's Katsuki for you, even in the calmer, softer version of himself. The personification of the twilight hours, even if he's going to bed at 10pm, wiggling his feet under the covers until you join him. He's the only reason you're still sane and you won't ever lose him. He won't lose you, in return.

[seijorhi]

Cry-Baby

A commissioned continuation of this soulmate AU by the lovely @pokemonfreak666 - thanks for your patience, bby!!

Bakugou Katsuki x Female Reader, Kirishima Eijiro x Female Reader

TW non-con, nsfw, double penetration, rough fucking, minor mentions of blood, kidnapping

The water’s not hot enough. 

It should be; it should burn. The knob’s twisted all the way up, steam rising in billowing clouds, fogging up the bathroom mirror, but it’s not hot enough. You can still feel them on you. Everything else – the blood, saliva, their cum, you’d watched it swirl down the drain, sitting on the shower floor, arms curled tightly around yourself as if that was the only thing keeping you from falling apart and shattering entirely.

But the water’s scalding, and you can still feel your soulmates’ hands crawling over you…  their mouths… their cocks tearing you apart from the inside out. Why won’t it wash away? You’ve scrubbed and scrubbed, your skin’s red and raw but the filthy feeling won’t go.

And they’re just outside. Sitting in your bedroom, or maybe wandering around your living room, sprawled across your couch flipping through channels on the TV. Maybe they’re out there looking at the pictures that line your walls, you and your family, your friends. Fuck, maybe they’re in your kitchen, rifling through your fridge for a late night snack after fucking their soulmate six ways from Sunday.

You can’t go back out there. You don’t want to see them.

Is it awful to hope for some kind of horrifying villain attack or massive accident to force them to go and leave you in peace?

… Would they? 

You can’t imagine Pro Heroes not running off to do their duty, but before a few hours ago, you couldn’t imagine them holding somebody down and raping them either, and clearly they had no qualms about doing that, so maybe your Heroes aren’t all they’re cracked up to be. 

Then again, what difference would leaving make? They know where you live, probably where you work. There’s no anonymity anymore, it’s not like you can just slip away and hide from them. 

You’ve been in the bathroom too long already, you know that – you can almost feel their anxious energy seeping through the crack in the door. Too much longer and they’ll surely come bursting in. 

Patience clearly wasn’t their strong point, and it’s nothing short of a miracle they let you come in and shower alone. Kirishima at least had been more than eager to come join you, grinning widely and tugging you by the arm towards the bathroom– it’d been Bakugou, watching you pale and flinch through red, unreadable eyes who’d reined him back in. 

Maybe he saw how scared you were, how fragile the thread that was holding you together was. Maybe he thought that gifting you these precious minutes alone after what they did would in any way come close to starting to mend the damage they’d just wrought. 

Maybe he just hadn’t cared enough beyond getting his dick wet. 

You’d grown up thinking your soulmates would make you happy, love you in a way that nobody else ever could. The possibility of ever deliberately hurting them seemed like such a foreign and uncomfortable concept to you. But obviously they didn’t care enough about your feelings or your lack of consent to stop them from forcing themselves onto you, maybe you were nothing but an object to them. Something to take and fuck, because naturally you were made for them.

What did it matter if you didn’t want it? 

Your eyes drift down to the timers on your wrists, run down to zero. A quaking sob rips from your throat and you bite down harshly on your bottom lip to stifle it. 

“Why am I even here? In less than an hour you’re gonna meet them, and what am I supposed to do then, hmm?” your friend had asked with a laugh. “Be the world’s most awkward fourth wheel?”

You’d laughed with her, knocking your shoulders against hers with a fond little smile, “Well if they’re gonna be in my life for the long haul, don't you think it’s important that they meet the person who matters to me the most right off the bat?”

You’re terrified of going back out there and facing them, but what other option do you have? The only window in the bathroom is too high and too small to squeeze through, and even if you could, getting an apartment on the seventh floor had seemed like a great idea at the time, but it doesn’t exactly lend itself to an easy getaway. 

The flimsy lock on the bathroom door is all that’s keeping them out – with their strength it’s hardly much of a barrier at all, but it’s all you have.

Here in your bathroom, under the scalding water, you’re safe. They can’t hurt you.

You’d like to think that now they’ve gotten what they wanted, now that they know that you can’t run and their reputations can’t be tarnished, they’ll go. And there’s a little voice inside your head that tells you it’s a stupid, foolish hope. You know that the moment you set foot outside that door, things’ll never be the same again.

A few years back, you read an article on some tabloid website about an up and coming Hero who’d disappeared out of the blue after joining Hawks’ agency as an intern. Supposedly, they were soulmates, and once the Pro realised it, he’d swooped her up and taken her to some secret safe house to hide her away from the rest of the world, supposedly ‘for her own protection’. It was all rumours, of course. No way for them to actually prove the theory – and no one actually cared about some missing, low level Hero at the end of the day. It was news for a week and then everybody moved on.

Are they gonna do the same thing to you?

Spirit you away to some hideout where they can keep you all to themselves – so they can fuck you whenever they want without having to worry about you running off? You’ll never see your family again, or your friends… they’ll be your entire world, and just like that intern, everybody else will forget you ever existed.

Or maybe they’ll be satisfied enough just forcing themselves into your life, letting you go back to your job, your boring, mundane nine to five, never knowing when they’re going to pop up and take what they want. They’ll come over and play house, acting as if this is a normal relationship, waiting for you to come around and accept them. 

Love them. 

The thoughts makes bile rise in your throat. Your entire body aches from inside out. There’s bitemarks and bruises littering your skin, marks that won’t fade for days… you can’t let them do this to you again.

As if they can hear your panicked thoughts, a knock sounds on the bathroom door, and your heart clenches.

“Hey, babe?” Kirishima calls out, “You okay? You’ve kinda been in there a while…” 

That same voice, chanting breathlessly above you, “I love you, I love you– f-fuck– I love you!”

Panic, cloying and sharp tears at you. You try to answer, tell him to leave you alone, that you need more time, but the words catch in your throat and all that comes out is a pitiful squeak and he knocks again, louder, more insistent and it’s too much.

They're gonna break down the door and hurt you again. Hot tears well up and spill down your cheeks with an audible sob, and you clutch at yourself tighter, willing them away–

“Babe? Talk to us, sweetheart, you’re making us worried.”

The door handle jiggles insistently, and you bury your face between your knees breathing rapidly, they’re gonna break it down, they’re gonna break it down, they’re gonna–

“Move, Kiri,” Bakugou snaps.

You don’t register the snap of the lock breaking or the frantic footsteps that approach, the harsh sound of your heaving gasps drowning out all else. Then suddenly there’s strong, muscular arms pulling you out from the water with a muffled curse.

It’s Kirishima who’s holding you, you realise as a flash of blond darts back behind you to turn the shower off. And it’s suffocating, the way he clutches at you, big hands running along your back, pulling you closer, holding you tighter, words of comfort you can’t hear over the pounding of your own heart spilling from his lips. 

And then Bakugou’s face is filling your vision, the scowl on his face growing more pronounced as he studies you – shaking, teary, eyes wide and swimming with fear– 

Something inside of you just gives and you don’t fight it when the darkness swallows you whole.

—

When you come to, you’re lying on something soft – a bed, you realise, but not your own. There’s an arm slung over your waist; corded with muscles, tan, covered in fine, golden hair and faint white scars; Bakugou’s.

Which means that the warm breath gently tickling at your neck must belong to him as well. 

You’re not naked at least; a quick glance down at your body revealing they’d dressed you in one of your old tees and a pair of panties. You’re not sure whether that observation is supposed to calm or unnerve you; you’d rather be clothed than not, but the thought of your soulmates rifling through your things, dressing you while you were unconscious… is not a pleasant one. 

“You’re awake.” It’s an observation, not a question.  His voice is gruff, an edge of sleepiness clinging to the words, but it lacks the heat you’ve come to expect from the explosive Hero. He sounds comfortable almost – at least that’s the sense you get as his face presses up against the nape of your neck, his arm drawing you closer with a low groan.

Still, you haven’t uttered a sound. 

It feels surreal, lying there in your captor’s arms – and he is your captor, soulmate or no, there’s no denying that fact anymore. There’s a part of you that realises that you should be panicking, kicking scratching and clawing because you don’t know where you are, but it’s certainly not your apartment and you definitely don’t want him touching you after what he’s already put you through. 

But rather than the sheer, unrelenting panic that had gripped you before, it’s just… nothing. Dormant, lying simmering just below the surface, and you’re almost scared to draw breath, to shatter the sweet, tender facade between the two of you.

There’s no point in asking where you are, no point in demanding he let you go. They’ve shown you that what you want doesn’t matter here, so instead you ask the obvious question.

“Where’s Kirishima?”

Bakugou grunts, burrowing himself closer. It’s not cold in the room, but his bare skin burns like a furnace, just on the wrong side of comfortable. “Makin’ breakfast.”

Breakfast. 

You swallow tightly, but Bakugou isn’t done. 

“Scared the shit out of us, fainting like that,” he scoffs. “Should’a fuckin’ known you’d need us to come take care of you.”

His fingers, resting over your stomach, dip lower, sliding roughly beneath the hem of your panties as he grinds his hips along your ass. He’s hard already, you can feel every inch of it, long and thick pressing insistently up against you. 

Shame and indignation flare up like a match struck, but before you can even open your mouth to snap a retort, Bakugou yanks his hand out of your underwear to stuff his fingers inside your mouth.

Your first instinct is to bite down, but the blond at your back just growls, “Suck,” and you’re not stupid enough to think that hurting him (or trying to at least) is going to stop what’s about to happen.

Or maybe you’re just scared to test exactly how far you can push them before they really hurt you. 

Obediently, your tongue swirls around his thick digits, hollowing out your cheeks and earning a grunt of appreciation from your soulmate. 

“Always thought that my soulmate was gonna be someone strong,” he mutters, his hips still rocking up against yours. “Somebody who could keep up with Kiri ‘n me, hold their own in a fight. Never thought you’d be some weak as shit, quirkless little cry-baby.”

It stings more than it has any right to. 

Slowly, his fingers slide from your lips, a long, thin glistening strand of saliva connecting the two. It’s hard to fight the whine that escapes you as they return to your pussy, angrily shoving aside your panties before thinking better of it and ripping them off of you completely. The warm puff of breath that ghosts across your skin sends shivers down your spine, and though you can’t see his face when he speaks next you can tell that he’s grinning.

“But fuck, sweetheart, you’re goddamn perfect – everythin’ we didn’t know we needed.”

He kisses you as his index and middle fingers plunge eagerly into your cunt, not the rough, biting kisses he’d gifted you with the night before, no. These are almost tender, sweet – or at least as sweet as a monster like Bakugou is capable of – entirely at odds with way his calloused fingers curl inside of you, fucking you, stretching you out while he cruelly thumbs at your clit.

Katsuki wants you strung out and whining for him. For Kirishima.

He wants you helpless.

“We’re gonna keep you nice ‘n safe, baby. Won’t have to worry about a goddamn fucking thing ‘cept keepin’ your soulmates happy.”

It sounds more like the passing of a sentence than a reassurance, but you can’t tell him that you don’t want this. He knows – he has to by now. He just doesn't care.

You don’t hear it when Kiri comes back, not when Bakugou’s sucking at your neck, your pussy throbbing with need as his fingers drive relentlessly into you, hitting your g-spot with every flick of his wrist.

You might not have noticed the redhead lingering in the doorway, his cock tenting in his pants, eyes dark and glazed over as he watches the show unfolding before him, but Bakugou certainly does.

“Oi, shitty hair. You just gonna stand there and watch or are you actually gonna fucking do something?” His voice is rough and a little breathless, closer to a growl than speech – it makes your gut clench, a shiver run down along your spine.

When your eyes finally do meet Kirishima’s, your heart squeezes, your stomach flipping. Kirishima’s staring at you like a wolf readying itself to pounce, like he wants to devour every inch of you and savour the taste.

He grins widely, pink tongue darting out to lick his lips.

Bakugou’s the one with the bad reputation – as explosive as his quirk, brash at the best of times and overly aggressive even with his friends – you have every reason to be terrified of him, even before he broke into your home to take you. 

Kirishima might be kinder, gentler with his touches (at least, he tries to be), but you’re a fool if you think you’re any safer with the redhead. 

“Thought you said you were gonna wait,” he says, advancing towards the two of you as he kicks out of his shorts, but the grin on his face doesn’t waver for a second. He’s not nearly as put out as he pretends. “I could hear the pretty little thing moaning all the way in the kitchen.”

Shame would be enough to flood your cheeks with heat, but it’s the sight of Kiri’s cock, flushed an angry red, veiny and thick, hanging heavy between his muscular thighs that does the job. The spit in your mouth dries, your heart thumping unevenly even as pleasure pools in your gut courtesy of Bakugou’s attention. You let out a sharp shriek as he quickens his pace, one hand reaching to grab at his wrist, the other clutching desperately for purchase at the bedsheets, but it’s not enough. 

Heat burns at your core, and unwittingly, you find your hips bucking up against him, fervently searching for more.

At your back, the blond chuckles, you feel the deep vibrations echoing through your chest, “Yeah, well you were taking too long.” 

There might be more that he says, but at that moment he slides a third finger into your dripping cunt, calloused fingertips slamming against your tight, gummy walls and you’re robbed of the ability to think. 

Your first orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, the building pleasure snapping like an elastic band stretched too far. A strangled moan slips out of your lips, and you don’t even notice the teeth sinking into your shoulder, Bakugou once more staking his claim as you cum for him. You quiver and quake in his grip, your cunt tightening around his digits and sucking them in further with a lewd squelching sound that you might be more embarrassed about if you could focus on anything but the pleasurable aftershocks of your peak.

All the while, Kirishima drinks you in, salivating at the sight of your drooling, fucked out expression, the syrupy slick that’s all but dripping out around Bakugou’s thick fingers, still stuffed deep inside of your pussy.

And maybe if he were a better man, he might allow you a moment to breathe and hurtle back down to earth, but patience has never been a virtue of his. He lunges forward faster than a man of his size has any right to, jumping onto the bed and all but tearing you out of Bakugou’s hold. You’re still reeling, panting and sore and dizzy with pleasure as Kirishima’s lips crash against yours, stealing what little breath you have left in a burning kiss.

Your attention’s caught on the way his tongue’s sliding against yours, trying to coax you into kissing back, the sharp, minty taste of him – you miss the way he grasps at his flushed, leaking cock, dragging it along your puffy slit. You miss the sound of Bakugou shedding his own pants.

You’re still weakly trying to push at his chest when Kiri slides his cock into your warm, welcoming cunt, his low, guttural moan lost to your lips. And despite Bakugou’s attempts at preparing you, it still burns, the sheer girth of his fat cock filling you up and stretching you uncomfortably. Tears sting at your eyes, a whimper catching in your throat as he hums in pleasure, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer, impaling you further onto his length.

Yet you’re not given a moment to accommodate the massive cock inside of you – not as you feel another blunt, flushed cockhead pressing up against your already stuffed pussy. Realisation hits a moment too late, your face blanching, your heart skipping a beat as panic – sheer panic – chokes at you.

You try to push back from Kiri’s embrace, only to feel Bakugou once again pressing up against your back, trapping you between them. You squirm in vain, trying to kick and push, fighting even as the blond’s cock, not as girthy as Kirishima’s but still far too big for you to take with Kiri still inside of you, starts to force its way into your plush, velvety walls.

“F-fuck, she’s tight,” he grunts as you arch up against Kiri, your tits, still covered by your thin, cotton tee, squishing up against his bare chest in an attempt to writhe away from the overwhelming feeling of fullness, the burning, stinging, throbbing pain between your legs.

But your soulmates are far from considerate, not even as you start to wail, your nails raking down the redhead’s broad shoulders. 

“Your pussy’s a fuckin’ dream,” he continues, swearing with a hiss as he finally bottoms out.

It’s too much, you feel like you’re being split in two. Every twitch and throb of their dicks, every vein, every inch of them is pressed too tightly against you, your walls struggling to take them both. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, oh god it hurts so fucking bad, but neither one of them care as you start to sob–

No, Kiri just kisses away your tears, taking your face in his large hands and cooing sweetly when you beg them through gasping, heaving sobs to stop.

“You’re doing so good for us, baby. Look how well you’re taking our cocks – it’s like you were made for us,” he laughs at his own stupid joke, and all you can focus on is the pain as he starts to draw his hips back, your oversensitive walls screaming in protest. “We’re gonna make you feel so fucking amazing, just wait.”

And it’s not his wide, beaming grin that shatters you, or even the hunger blazing in those crimson depths. It’s not Bakugou panting at your back, his hands coming up to shove your top up so he can palm greedily at your tits, or even the lewd almost feral sounds the explosion Hero’s making as he and Kirishima settle into a maddening rhythm, not allowing you a moment to catch your breath and steady yourself as they fuck you.

No, it’s the sheer, feverish love you can see written across his face clear as day, the softness with which he holds you, even as he chases his own pleasure.

This is their version of love, and you – quirkless, weak as shit and entirely at their mercy – have no hope in hell of escaping it. 

[hotwings0203]

What if Fighter!Bakugou accidentally killed his darling. Like going too far or underestimating his strength.

That’s a very possible idea as well

Tw: death, process of killing someone ig, heavy stuff

It might be in the initial stages of him breaking you, when he literally gets off on your squeals of terror getting choked off by his hands wrapping around your throat. It’ll be when you’re still a valuable emotional plaything to him instead of a cautious liability, when you still look at him with immediate obedience and awed horror at his status above you.

When he’s pounding in you, his upper body suspended in midair and all his weight rests on the hands around your throat, he’ll laugh when your face goes red. Katsuki thinks you look the best when your lips spew drool and your eyes start to go bloodshot, he thinks you’ve never looked prettier when your face darkens in color and your hands twitch until they rest on the bed, unmoving and at their final submission.

Another option could be when he’s trying to scare you, or when he’s actually mad at you.

You’re cowering in the doorway after taking a shower without his permission, your towel clutched tightly around your dripping body.

He’s barreling towards you, uncaring of how you wheeze and sob for him to stop, to have mercy on you. But Bakugo is a man of action, and action he’ll show.

He’ll show it as he sends his hand flying out and catching your cheek, slapping you so hard you lose your balance and trip backwards, slipping on puddles of water.

He watches in almost slow motion as you desperately reach out for any unseen purchase as your head falls onto the corner of the dresser. It’s not so much of a thud as it is a crunch, as the side of the steel embeds itself into your skull and leaves your eyes and mouth wide open and unmoving forever more.

He throws up when he pulls your head out of the corner and sees your lifeless body suspended in midair, your gaping head holding up most of your weight.

Or, it might happen when you’re already a broken shell of the person you used to be.

It’ll be after he’s recognized that you’re no longer you, but he still tries to rut against your womb as if fucking you hard enough would resuscitate you back to life.

But he finds that as he’s looking down at your unmoving ass on his pistoning hips, the tenderness and wary state in which he’s permanently changed to be for you ebbs away. His hands slide up your back and start to move faster up your spine when you don’t even shudder at his touch.

Your face is mushed against the pillow and turned at an angle so your nose can still intake air-a position he had to manually move you into, because you just originally had laid limp like a dead slug.

And so to put you out of your misery and his, he gently turns your head back to it’s starting position, nostrils smothered by the soft downy feathers.

He stop thrusting for a moment and watches your reaction.

You don’t move.

For a moment his eye twitches and he sees red and blue.

And then he continues pushing himself back inside of you, but ever so slowly and gently now.

He pushes his hand down against your head and tries to ignore the subtle way your finger fidget and your leg shakes violently.

And when your body drops like a dead fly, he has to remind himself that there once was an ember of a person much brighter than he was in your empty vessel.

[spice-chan]

Yandere incubus bakugou please? But the reader is a bad a** nun exorcist?

Heavenly

Incubus!Bakugou x nun!reader

Warnings: yandere themes, religious imagery, dub/noncon, somnophilia, praise kink, incubus bakugo, nsfw.

Wordcount: 2 K

You were new in the field, but nevertheless, the best. You approached your work with certain fierceness that bordered on unprofessional, unethical, given your field.

You were a nun, an exorcist meant to banish creatures like Bakugo Katsuki, unholy, sinful creatures like him.

Ones who bathed in wrong doings, encouraged misbehaviours, got off and energised at the feel of being the cause of someone sinning.

Bakugo watched you, clad in white attire and bright eyes that seemed so honest, so pure, that they seemed almost translucent. Katsuki doesn’t belong in heaven, but he thinks it must look something like your eyes.

A creature like him shouldn’t hover in a place like this. A creature so devilish isn’t welcomed in God’s abode, isn’t worthy of staring at crucifixes, nor worthy of salvation. But most importantly, what right does a wretched being like him have to stare reverently at a blessed being like you.

Though, the both of you have some things in common, he mused. You were so fiery, that some of your elders seemed stiff at the sight of you, though what sort of stiff is ambiguous. You were so ambitious, rising up the ranks so quickly, his good girl.

Fuck, how did he grow so enamored with you? The only reason he can even enter the premises of your church is because he hasn’t come of age yet, hasn’t reached his full potential as an incubus, but a few days from now, he will take his first victim.

He will lay with someone, take them and become the creature of lust that he was meant to be, become the tainted person you preach against. He wishes it could be you, wishes he can take you and break your vows, give you a taste of the sweetness of the apple, get you addicted to the taste of debauchery, wishes he can taste your sweetness.

You had so much restraint, on lonely nights where you rubbed your thighs in need, slick starting to dampen your panties, Katsuki watching in anticipation, wondering whether today will be the day you please yourself painfully unaware of your audience. Leaving him with raging hopes that today will be the day you will be pliant enough to be taken by him but no, no, you just took a deep breath and opted for a cold shower, leaving him with a raging hard on that he had no choice but to stroke to your sleeping form.

You were so fragile too, like glass that he felt protective over, despite how foreign that feeling is to him, yet wanting to shatter you all the same, wanting to cage you with his wings, get you addicted to the delightful feeling he can induce between your thighs while your throat goes raw from moans and screams of his name.

He stalked you religiously, memorised you like the pope memorised the bible, his form which is invisible to you hovered around you like a lost puppy, drinking in all your expressions like ambrosia, his mouth overflowing with saliva at the sweet nectar you kept offering and offering to the point where he’s gotten too addicted to stop.

He glowered at every male that interacts with you, and if the wrong scent emanates from them, something to slightly suggest attraction, you can bet they greet death too early, the cause being a mystery. He enjoys mangling them all night long, only to put them back together and repeat the process. No one stares at his human like she’s theirs, when she's so woefully his. Although she doesn’t know it yet.

But his coming of age ceremony grows closer and closer, and Katsuki won’t be able to enter your premises anymore, his awakening means he also won’t be able to take you for that very ceremony, and perhaps never.

So, Bakugo started thinking smart. Using his influence, he gathered the most intense, the most powerful demons and made them inhibit people from a nearby village. A case severe enough that you’d have to leave in aid of those people. And stay for a few days.

Painfully predictable, you did just that. Donning your outfit and leaving swiftly. Not knowing what dark fate awaits you.

…………

Bakugou stood at the corner of the inn room you are staying in. You were so exhausted, you passed out as soon as you hit the mattress. Now, without the protective walls shielding you from him, your soft body will be all pliant for him. His body shook, the changes to it happening too rapidly. His wings are growing larger, bolder, and aside of the external changes, his scent was becoming more soft, relaxing, his body emitting pheromones that could easily induce lust. His saliva and touch will have a multiplied effect now that he’s reached his peak form. All that’s left now is to make love to a human, to make love to you.

He stepped closer to you, the room looking darker with each step he took, and your form appearing more and more defenceless to the enamored incubus before you.

He slowly took the blanket off you, admiring the slopes of your body in the form fitting night dress that you only adorned in the comfort of your room. He covered your body with his large one, covering you and his heat acting as a blanket, shielding you from the nipping cold. He took your sprawled arms, slowly putting them over your head and holding them in place with one hand while his other lowered the strap on your dress, freeing one breast to caress while his mouth pressed a feather light kiss over your own, so tender it was akin to a lover's touch.

You stirred in your sleep, his touch having the desired effect as you remained in slumber… his sleeping beauty. He kept kissing his way down, like a mad deprived of water for weeks finally getting to quench his thirst.

His wings lowered, shielding you from the moon light as he laved you up in his saliva, exposing your tits only to lay kisses on them before sucking harshly, pulling, tugging until they pebbled up. He squeezed the warm flesh, marvelling at the baby soft skin and its texture in his calloused palm.

Heh, if you were awake, you’d freak out so bad. Katsuki didn’t stop, he continued his journey downwards, kissing over every inch until he reached the heaven between your thighs.

He can smell it, God, he can smell the arousal coating your plain white panties. He moved his apart, movements stilling in the face of your womanhood, suddenly blushing and feeling nervousness enter his stream. He swallowed, pink tongue poking out of his tongue slowly and drawing a path from your slit to your clit. Feeling satisfied at your muscles spasming. He got cocky real quick after that, not even attempting to conceal the raunchy sounds of his mouth wrapping around your clit and eating it as if drinking from a straw.

You were the sweetest delicacy he’d ever tasted, and he’d be damned if he ever lets go of you.

His finger slipped inside you, feeling your walls sucking it in, tightness befitting of a nun. A second finger joined, your walls happily sucking it in and coating his fingers in slick. They moved in and out, thick fingers hitting sensitive spots and stretching you out in preparation for something bigger.

His hips were rutting into the bed, trying to alleviate the ache while his tongue goes for a final taste, the slickened muscle burying itself inside you and moaning. The room was filled with slurping sounds, tiny moans from your sleeping figure and his hips rutting into your mattress; anyone who stood outside your door for a second longer than necessary can tell what’s happening in the nun's room.

He can’t take this anymore. You were here now, pliant for the taking and he was going to take you. He’s going to take you in many many ways.

He freed his manhood, but before he can bury himself in you, he had to do something. He pulled out a shiny object, pulling your hand and slipping it into your finger. Now, the fun can begin.

He lined himself with your begging hole, desperate for something to fill it up after it was so delightfully full, after having its owner deprive it for so long.

With a moan, he quickly bottomed out, eyes watering at the pleasure, having to hold himself back from cumming on the spot as he groaned. Your greedy walls drank him in, welcoming him warmly as if he’s a soldier returning from war, as if hellfire wasn’t hot enough.

He put one of your legs above his shoulder, silently questioning whether he should go at the pace he’s going to, whether he should take you gently the way your body should be taken after years of abstinence. But one clench of your walls and the decision was made for him.

He started pistoning into you mercilessly, his gifted length not sparing you in the slightest. He was so loud too, moaning at the feeling of being one with you, slobbering like a dog as he pounded you, his tip reaching and massaging places you probably didn’t even know existed. Really, with how loud he was, he shouldn’t have been surprised when you woke up.

You squealed, in pleasure or repulsion, trying to push him away, however the pleasurable sheen in your eyes was unmissable to the avatar of lust.

“Ah—who are y-you?! You devil!” You kept stuttering, words breaking as he forcefully pounded the pleasure into you.

“Don’t ask if you already know, princess.” He pumped more pheromones in the air, successfully making you more docile as you gripped his humongous biceps, hands not even close to wrapping around the circumference of it, moaning and clenching around his member.

“Good girl.” He smirked as his statement made you clench even more, so his princess likes being praised.

Your moans were raw and throaty, as if unused to letting out such sinful and suggestive sounds, as if unwilling but painfully desperate to.

“But, if you’re so desperate to know, look at your hand.”

Your eyes glanced up, hazily making out a golden band resting on your ring finger. It had a red amber on it, its colour so red it was darker and bolder then the liquid spilled in a blood oath, it signified something that your foggy brain just couldn’t make out.

“Hmm, already fucked you silly?”

You grumbled something out, a protest too low to be considered a threat. His hand reached out and started rubbing circles on your button, causing an adorable mewl to leave your lips. His thumb kept up the movement until he felt your overly sensitive walls choking his length, gripping him so hard that his fucking falters. You really hadn’t touched yourself in a long time huh.

Some of the spit gathered in his mouth escaped, coating you as his tongue left his mouth lewdly, cheeks flushed an apple red while his eyes watered at the weight of doings. He pounded you so hard after that he reached ecstasy in a minute, not holding the handles on his pleasure any longer, only relishing in the intimate moment as he reached heaven with you. His movements were so passionate, it was as if he was seeking salvation for his very existence in your body.

He pulled out with a grunt, heart panging at the look in your eyes. You stared in horror at the white gushing out of you, so far from pure or holy, it was thick like the sin you allowed yourself to indulge in.

Tears soaked up your face, unable to believe that you of all people got taken by this god forsaken creature, by this tempting creature that symbolizes sin itself. His fingers had the audacity to reach for your face, trying to wipe away the tears he caused. Your hand went to harahly swat his before a red glint caught your eye, your gut sinking at the implication. You swiftly went to remove it, but the harder you tried the more it seemed to cling to your finger.

“What’s this?!” He rolled his eyes at you, before pointing at the ring in your ring finger.

“This-“ his intense, bloody gaze shifted to you”-this will make sure that wherever you go, I will be able to follow you, that we will belong to each other for eternity, because I, the incubus prince Katsuki Bakugou chose you as my mate, and there’s no way out if that.”

[despressolattes]

Soooo, I was scrolling through Bakugou angst hashtag and I found that SOMEBODY 👀 wanted some requests... So here I am :3 💖💖 I couldn't find rules sooo sorry if I break one, also if it's too much characters, just choose from them 💖 Can I get Bakugou, Hawks and Denki if they cheated? 💖 Some scenarios about them cheating and their s/o finding out and breaking up with them? And make it really sad? 💖💖 Thank you :3 💖 Make sure to drink enough water and get enough rest 💖 Have a great day 💖

CHARACTERS: Katsuki Bakugou x reader

a/n: sorry, i just started watching the show last week and have yet to get to see hawks! i also feel like i haven’t seen enough of kaminari to write about him, so for now, this will just be bakugou! once i see more of those two i’ll write one for them!

WARNINGS: cheating, angst

•─────────°❋❀°─────────•

DON’T GO DESTROYING PEOPLE’S PERSPECTIVES ON LOVE; katsuki bakugou

You had known Katsuki Bakugou for as long as you could remember. The two of you went to the same grade school, and then the same junior high. Despite not being friends with the explosive boy:—quirk and temper wise—at that age, you watched him grow from the sidelines. You watched as Izuku Midoriya went from one of his childhood friends/admirers to someone Bakugou couldn’t stand the sight of.

You watched as his inflated ego burned the dedication of beating anyone and everyone into him.

You watched.

It was when he found out that you were applying to U.A high for the Hero Program that he started to pay attention to you. Your quirk had been the opposite of his: you could manipulate water in any of its three forms.

He paid attention to how you racked up points at the Battle Trials, he paid attention to you when you ended up in Mr. Aisawa’s class together and had to go through the weird first-day of school quirk assessment tests together.

He paid attention.

And watching and paying attention slowly became asking one another to spar together, sparing together turned into talking, talking turned into walking to class together, and walking to class together turned into hanging out at each other’s house’s to do school work.

And THAT turned into the development of feelings. From Kirishima noticing that you two were always together at school and asking Bakugou about it just a tad bit too loud, piquing the interest of your fellow classmates. Mina then wanted to know everything about what was going on, and Ochako insisted that she was there for you if you ever wanted to talk.

Todoroki, who seemed like he somewhat possessed both yours and Bakugou’s quirks, just in the form of ice and fire, nonchalantly added that he saw you two together outside of school.

Oh how you and Bakugou both wanted to hit Mr. Half-n-Half for that subtle comment, said in his normal monotonous voice, acting like he had no care in the world.

“Yeah? And why the hell are you even looking at me and Y/N, huh, Icy-Hot?” Bakugou barks at him, and Todoroki merely looks away, acting uninterested in the conversation.

•─────────°❋❀°─────────•

You suppose reminiscing on your U.A days together wasn’t the best decision to be making as you packed your bags. Standing at the foot of your bed—old bed—with your luggage on top, piling clothes into it, you had to gulp back tears that threatened to spill.

You heard the door to your apartment—old apartment—open, and you instantaneously tensed. You had hoped that you could get out of the apartment before Katsuki got home, but apparently nothing could go your way.

“Hey, Y/N?” you heard Bakugou’s voice call out from either the living room or kitchen, sounding a bit grumpy, which was his default tone anyways.

You stilled, not daring to say anything.

“She left a note? Silly woman?” you heard him mumble to himself, and you realized he was now looking at the farewell letter you had left on the coffee table. 

It almost broke your heart to hear him say silly woman. Bakugou’s vocabulary almost always consisted of insults and curse words, but he tended to substitute his normal vulgar language for something more tender if it was directed at you. Now, if he was speaking to Kirishima, he’d probably get called a shitty man.

Tears fells rapidly down your face, and you held your hand to your mouth to try to muffle any sobs.

“What the—” you heard Bakugou curse, and an explosion followed. You could already imagine the crumpled up letter in ashes and scorched.

“Like hell she thinks—”

His footsteps vibrated through the apartment, and you knew he was making his way towards the bedroom. Unsure if he knew you were home or not, you quickly manipulated the tears on your face to the door, freezing the lock.

As if that would do anything, you scoffed to yourself, really hating the fact that Bakugou could easily melt the ice or just blow up the entire door.

“Y/N?!” Bakugou’s voice was frantic when he realized you were home on the other side of the door. “You silly woman, open this damn door and talk to me!”

He wiggled on it a few times, pounding on it.

You didn’t answer, and frantically closed your luggage. You glanced around, seeing nothing else you needed. The rest of them could be repurchased if you were to just leave now.

You looked at the window, at the jump it would be to get to the floor from your fourth floor apartment. It was a good thing you were a hero trained for stunts like this.

“Goddamit,” Bakugou grumbled. “If you’re near the door, stand back, I’m blasting it to shreds.”

But you weren’t by the door, before you were jumping out of your old bedroom window with your suitcase in your arms and tears flying down your face. Bakugou ran to the window, watching as you ran down the street, not even stopping to look at him.

His eyes drooped, and he watched you go, replaying the words in your note over and over again.

“Katsuki,

If you’re reading this, then I’ve made my leave from the place we once shared together and called home. I suppose you’re out right now, with that girl. You know the one I’m talking about. The same one I saw you with last month while I was grocery shopping, and I brushed it off as a fan or civilian who had borrowed a few moments of your time. Then, it seemed as if you grew more distant from me. Always on your phone, always distracted, always with a guilty look behind your ruby eyes.

Then, I saw you with her a few more times, but again, I tried to push the image of you to the back of my head because who said you can’t make new friends?

The image I couldn’t push to the back of my head was the image I had yesterday, walking into the apartment around noon to surprise you with lunch on your day off. You had expected I’d be out all day, and there you were, asleep on our bed with a woman who was not me, letting her sleep on my side and letting her cuddle up to the man who was mine. Mine since high school. Mine since the days when he was intolerable to most of our classmates, but I saw through his angry demeanor and tried to pour and push and shove as much love into his sorry personality as I could.

And all of our friends had thought I had done a good job. I guess I didn’t do as good a job as I thought.

But how dare you? I’m not saying that I deserve to be loved back all because I loved you, but I did deserve more than being half-loved. I deserved more than being loved just enough to not want to leave, but seeing someone else on the side. I deserved more than this deception and betrayal.

If my best was no longer good enough for you, you should’ve told me instead of allowing another person in our home.

Don’t go destroying other people’s perception of love just because you no longer feel any for them. I wish you had just broken up with me instead.

So, I’m the one that’s leaving, and like you, I’m offering you no chance to talk about it. Just like you gave me no chance of talking about what to do with our relationship when you began falling out of love with me.

I think I might always love you, Katsuki,

But today, I am going to do what you couldn’t, and love me more.”