#fkn pouting hard over here

[starqueensthings]

Fives & Echo

they were unstoppable, really… until they weren’t.

[takenbyheartstrings]

FORCED TO SHARE.

summary: person a and person b are forced to share a bed, person a is a bed hog and person b gets cold...

pairing: marc spector x fem!reader

warnings: FLUFF & a tad bit of angst. that's it. bestfriends! to lovers also :) a little bit of a sexual reference too SNFKJSDNF

word count: 2.1k

authors note: more fluff because im still thinkin' about episode 5 :'( so this is to cheer everyone up!! there's not a lot of marc fluff as there is smut so that's why i keep writing for him :( i need to write for steven too tho, i need my boy :(

I HAD TO REPOST THIS BC TUMBLR IS SO FKN ANNOYING W/ THE TAGS NOW.

"Marc, I'm seriously not mad at you anymore." you huff, okay, so you were still a little annoyed that he ran off to Cairo without you. You helped him every single time. You were his informant, his partner in crime.

He pouts, "'M still sorry, okay? I shouldn't have done it... I dunno why I'm even here. I just needed to get away."

You and Marc were driving in the Jeep, on the way to Marc's hotel. You'd be staying with him, he called you to come to Cairo and you came running. He's your best friend, of course you'd come running. He told you he couldn't say much over the phone, but it's not like there was much to talk about.

"...Marc." You say stern, keeping your hand on the wheel. You eye him for a moment as his head is pressed against the window, staring into the mirror.

He sighs, "The guy got away... everyday I think I'm closer and closer to finding this fucking scarab, get to it before Harrow can," He turns to face you, "and every time I feel like I take two steps back in the opposite direction."

You kept your eyes on the road but Marc could sense how sorry you were as you turned down the radio. By the time you'd done this, you'd reached Marc's hotel.

"You really splurged on this place." you said quietly, noticing how nice it was.

Marc shrugs, "I slept in a motel last night and booked a proper room for us... I just wanted to feel normal for the night." He widens his eyes, "Two beds, by the way." He feels the need to clarify.

You nod, "We can do normal," You try to stifle a laugh.

"What?" He questions you, a toying smile.

"It's just hard to imagine normal when you have a pigeon skull over your shoulder at all times."

"HEy!" He laughs, "Don't let Khonsu hear you."

*

The two of you make it into the room, you drop your duffle bag onto the floor and immediately, the two of you see the problem, you turn to Marc, eyebrows raised, "Thought you said two."

"They must've misheard me." He groans, "Fuck!" He hits the wall next to him and anger and you jump a little, but place a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, Marc... Marc... it's okay. It's not like we haven't shared a fuckin' bed before." You roll your eyes.

Except, now it's different. The two of you are here by choice. The two of you have nothing to stop the tension that'll build.

You'd always had a crush on Marc. From the day you met him you thought he was too attractive. He was a mercenary and you were a girl who knew a lot of people - you grew up around those sorts of things. You helped Marc out a couple times and soon became his main informant.

You were also an archeologist, so you knew a lot about Egyptology, and all sorts of ancient histories that were beyond Marc's knowledge. Soon, you started to help him on his missions and the two of you were getting closer and closer. Meetings weren't meetings anymore and most times he'd just come into your house with the spare key you'd given him. You'd do the same.

Marc started having feelings for you when you began to get closer to him. At first, he treated it as it was. Business.

But one day, you hugged him. That was the day he fell for you. When you were holding him in your arms after getting excited about a mission that'd take place in Cairo, where the two of you would be able to enter an actual tomb. The smile on your face was so big it beamed like the sun.

"Are you sure?" He questions you softly.

"Yes." You laugh, "I'm sure. Now, we're both tired so, let's just get some rest, we've got like three days here."

He nods, "That's good, yeah... sleep, rest."

"...and a shower." You bite your lip.

"That bad?" He questions you and you nod a little. Marc rolls his eyes, "I'll be a few minutes."

He opens his bag and takes out his boxers.

Guess that's how he sleeps, practically half-naked... it didn't bother you. It just made you nervous. I mean, you were the same. Your pyjamas were nothing more than a pair of booty shorts and a tiny tank top.

You sit in bed reading a book, waiting for Marc to walk out of his shower. You took one before you got on the plane a few hours ago, so you opted to take one the next morning instead. You were kinda nervous to sleep in the same bed. This bed was big too, and you were a mover, a bed hog, most would say. Every time you and Marc had slept in the same bed, you had at least kicked him once during the night, for which he'd tease you about the next day. Otherwise, the two of you had seperate beds every time.

It pained both of you to sleep so far apart from each other, not only because you harboured feelings, but because it just felt nice to have someone to sleep next to. To know that someone lays beside you with every intention of loving you, platonically or romantically. You knew you weren't alone.

Your bedroom is probably the loneliest place you can be. All alone, sitting in there for hours on end. Sometimes the house can be even lonelier, filled with people or not. A person next to you would just be... nice.

Marc comes out of the bathroom, the steam pours from the door as he dries his wet hair with the towel. He's only wearing his boxers as predicted. Your eyes gloss over his body, you're a bit shocked honestly. Now he's not got abs or anything like that, in reality, who gives a flying fuck about those things? His body is so utterly perfect, his pecks are defined on his chest, lines shaping them, and his collarbones are deeply engraved, his bones show a little when he dries his hair, and his chest is clean shaven, so perfectly shown off. Smooth and glossy underneath the lamp's light. He turns around quickly to throw the towel back into the bathroom, and the way his back is just as beautiful, his shoulder blades just as defined as his collar bones, and his arms are strong and they have muscle to them.

Marc's turned around and he's caught you ogling at him, but he doesn't think that's it at all, "Shit," He sighs, "Do you want me to put a shirt on or something?... I just, it was a reflex, I usually sleep like this." He speaks a perfectly rational explanation for why he's shirtless in front of you.

"No." You shake your head, "It's fine. As long as you're not naked... then we might have a slight problem." You chuckle.

oh but I wish you were. Was the only thought that went through your head.

Marc laughs at your joke, but speaks again, "You sure?" He questions.

You can only nod this time, giving him more reassurance, "I'm sure, Marc. Now let's get some rest. You need it... I need it."

He nods, joining you underneath the covers, you've untucked it from the bed and thrown that weird uncomfortable sheet that slithers its way into every hotel, onto the floor.

You turn off the lamp that resides next to you on the bedside table, setting down your book and plugging in your phone. Marc's doing the same on the other side until both of you are in the complete darkness of the bedroom.

The silence isn't uncomfortable, nor is it comfortable. It's that middle ground where you're unsure of what to say, but at the same time it's better not to say anything at all... so neither of you do.

Your backs are turned to each other and you fall asleep like that. Both of you sharing the blanket, sleeping softly on the pillows underneath your head. As you drift off, you think about the comfort of the pillows and the mattress. How nice the room is with the royal blue curtains and the white walls. The TV that sits across from the bed, that you're one hundred percent sure will not be turned on the rest of the time you're here.

But you finally fall asleep thinking about how Marc's next to you. How you're not actually alone tonight.

*

Marc huffs as he wakes up, he's fucking freezing. God, he went to bed so warm. The buzz of the air-con isn't existent and the windows are closed. So when he wakes up to find the blanket ripped off of his body he realises why. You've taken it.

Sure, you'd kicked him before, but you never got too close or stole a blanket. There was almost never enough room for that to happen. But now there was. You had stolen the blanket... and as Marc tries to sit up apparently ninety-six percent of the space as well.

He debates letting you sleep and just dealing with it. You look so peaceful, and all he wants to do is cuddle up next to you. Your face is squished a little against the pillow, and the blanket is pulled up to your neck. But Marc also knows that he won't be able to fall asleep on the edge of the bed without even a sliver of blanket to keep him somewhat warm.

"Y/n..." He whispers carefully, shaking you softly. You stir a little bit, but don't seem to wake, you were usually a light sleeper, "Y/n..." He shakes you a little more intensly.

This time you wake up, sitting up carefully, looking around the room, a soft moan escaping your closed mouth, "What's wrong, Marc?" You question as you rub your eyes.

As the room finally comes to focus, with the soft light of the moon glowing into the room, you can finally see the predicament you've put the both of you in.

"Ohmygod," You mutter softly, still a bit frazzled from being woken up, "I'm so sorry, Marc."

"No, no, no," He shakes his head, "It's okay. I just didn't want to push you or steal anything back and wake you up like that."

You chuckle, "It would've been fine."

Marc goes through his next few words in his head, trying to wrack for something, but he can't seem to find the words, and when he does say it. You've probably never heard his voice more earnest and soft. So careful and scared. It makes you want to melt and you can't refuse his offer because every instinct in your body is telling you to accept it. You've never seen him like this before. So soft.

"Maybe we could..." He struggles to spit it out, "Cuddle?" His voice is the carefullest in this moment, when he says that final word, but he returns back to his regular demeanour in an instant, "Or some shit like that I dunno, would probably help us share the blanket."

You try to bite back a smile, but you can't help it. Marc's looking up at you as you do so. He doesn't know why you sat up, but the rays of the moonlight shine behind you and make you look like an absolute angel.

"I would like that..." you smile, "a lot." you add in haste, before lying down just as quick. Not wanting to waste anymore time.

Marc's arm finds its way around you as he pulls you closer, your back touching his chest and both of your breaths hitch against the air at the contact. Yours at Marcs particularly cold skin. Marc's cheeks start to flush. He's never felt this vulnerable around you. He's never really acted this way before... shy and timid. But you make his heart do back flips. You make his stomach swirl with happiness and warmth.

That's why his next words are just as soft as before, "I'm in love with you." He whispers, he's not sure if you're asleep or not. He doesn't really care if you heard it or not. He just needed to tell you.

Your eyes go wide for a quick moment before giving yourself a second to actually breathe, all you can do is smile tho and press a soft kiss to his arm, "I'm in love with you too, Marc."

Marc pulls you closer, if that's even possible. He wants to flip you over. Kiss you. Kiss your neck. Love you.

"We can talk about it more tomorrow," you sigh content against his body, "But right now, I'm very tired."

He does the best he can and kisses the top of your head. The blanket covering you both in a layer of warmth that matches the flush of both your bodies pressed together.

"Goodnight, Princess." He whispers, and you're out like a light.

-

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[spookysmujer]

Peaches, O. Diaz

Summary: Oscar and Y/N spend a pleasurable night together.

warnings:  s m u t 🥵 18+. public s e x, unprotected s e x 

word count: 2.3k

A/N: Fina-fkn-ly I have written Oscar smut! You would think with this blog dedicated around him that I would have done so already. Who doesn’t like the Santos party + sex? I am not @youare-mysonshine​, who has the best damn Oscar smut on this site, I am but her apprentice, LOL. Enjoy! And please don’t forget to follow, heart, comment, reblog and turn on those notifs for when I post something new. Lots of love!! Thank you for +800 followers!

(gif credit goes to @merakiaes 🦋)

“So it took your brother being shot for you to come around?”

You hear from behind you, as you swivel in your spot there is the man of the hour. Spooky is celebrating his 25th birthday and a victory in showing Prophet$ what’s good with last nights showdown.

A small smile forms on your lips as you briefly look away from him to avoid the red hue on your cheeks worsening. Oscar definitely has a way with women, it doesn’t take much for him to have the ladies swooning, or on their knees. And it’s no secret he prefers the latter. 

“Yeah, it’s definitely not for the reason of you make it to half a century”. He now stands in front of you, one hand in his pocket as the other holds his beer close to him. It’s a moment of silence, him looking down at you and you up at him.

When your brother, known as Joker, begged you to come home for a weekend you were hesitant too. And with how things went down, you were right to be. Shit had gone down on Santos turf resulting in your brother getting hit but nothing compared to what the Prophet$ got handed back to them. And all in the weekend that Oscar’s birthday bash is happening too.

“Good, I was hoping that was the reason. ‘Ridge been boring without you around. How’s life been up in Bakersfield?” He asks you as you two begin a small walk around the house to a quieter setting.

You shrug as you kick gravel around, “As good as you can guess. But my business degree is being put to use. So not long til I can repay for you the loan you gave my brother for me. Promise.”

He shakes his head after taking a swig of beef, his mouth pressed together tightly, lips licking the remaining that lingered. Damn. “Nah, don’t worry ‘bout it. Whenever you can.”

A small laugh from you, “People are gonna think you got a soft spot for me doing that kind of shit.”

“Let um think that they want. They wouldn’t be wrong.” He keeps his line of sight  in front of him as you look to him. You both lean against his impala as the soft moonlight reflects of the shiny paint of the red car.

After staring at him for a moment, you look away as he takes his turn at looking at you, his eyes burn into you as you clear your throat, “Careful.”

“What?” He grins at you with his signature grin.

You can feel your cheeks burn hotter by the second. And you also know that Oscar knows what he is doing, you’ve seen him do it to other girls.That look that seals the deal and then he is leading them into house. Probably notable that most of those girls plan on getting in bed with him from the moment they arrive. 

“That. You know what you’re doing and I am not like all them girls that you’ve banged in there.” You point to the house as you take a swig of your half empty beer. Oscar audibly laughs as he pushes himself off car.

He downs the last of his beer and tosses it to the trashcan across the way. You watch it as he moves to stand in front of you. This makes you correct your posture as he moves in even closer, lessening the open space between the two of you.

Oscar licks his lips, ever so slowly. He wipes his mouth of any remaining alcohol and places his hands on the car, each on the side of you, “That’s what I like about you. That you aren’t like them. You don’t come around here in hopes of some action. And if I’m being honest? That shit is attractive to me, knowin’ I gotta get you.” 

“Get me? You’re real smooth, y’know?” You scan his face, eyes staring into his as he grins, leaning in til you feel his breath his your lips. 

But the truth is, he is smooth. “Mmm.” He hum as he closes that space and your lips are on his. The chaste kiss is held for a moment before you both start to kiss each other, open mouth and quickly are your tongues dancing.

“Yo, Spooky finally gon hit Joker’s fine ass sister!”

You hear loudly, pulling back and turning around to see one of the Santos standing near the house. You groan as you flip him off and cover your face with your hands, “So get the fuck away, foo.” Oscar says with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

The Santo laughs backing away with his hands up in defense. Though partially embarrassed, you can’t help but laugh. Oscar’s hands rest on your hips, rubbing gently and pulling you back to lean against his body. He doesn’t say anything else, placing a kiss on your bare shoulder. Trailing kisses til he reaches your neck where you know there will be markings the next day.

Oscar’s hands feel your body, rising up your torso to cup your breasts. All of it, leaning against him, his hands, the kisses... it’s all too much to not react so when you moan, he laughs and kisses your neck more. One of his hands leave your body and pulls your face to the left and his lips meet yours.

While you two kiss you grab his other hand, bravely pushing down towards your heat. He doesn’t waste anytime and slips his hand in your shorts feeling you over you underwear, your body feeling weak when he massages your sensitive bud.

“W-we gotta go inside.” You mumble against lips and you feel him smile, his hand in your pants dipping lower to spread your arousal, earning more moans. “Nah, mami. Just relax, those foos not gonna come out here again.”

That’s when he releases you and steps back, you pout at the absence of his touch. You turn around as he grabs the waistband of your jean shorts and swiftly pulls them down to your knees, you gasp loudly trying to reach down to pull them back up, “Are you crazy? I’m not gonna fuck you out here. I don’t care if your homies won’t come back here, you have neighbors and I’m woman enough for you to take me inside!” 

He only laughs, picking you up to sit on the car, the cool metal making you squirm, “No one can see us, just trust me. I ain’t tryna fuck you out here, just curious.” Oscar unbuttons his flannel and pulls it off, balling it up and putting it behind you, pushing you back to lay your head on it as a pillow. He swiftly pulls off your shorts and spreads your legs, his finger hooking your panties to the side, “Oh my god, I cannot believe you are gonn-”

His tongue against your clit shut you up quickly. It causes your breath to hitch and words lost as he licks more swipes against your heat. He tortures you with the way he does it slowly, but the sensation feels like bliss, “Sweet as peaches, mamas.”

You feel relaxed, letting your legs rest comfortably over his shoulders. His lips covering your entire cunt now, tongue swirling on your clit and then dipping down into your entrance. And when he pulls back then back down to suck on your swollen bud like sweet nectar, your back arches. And you’ve had guys go down on your before, but something about the way he does it. He doesn’t shove his fingers in like you are use to having and it makes the moment more enjoyable.

“What no extra pleasure with your fingers? Fuck.” You squeeze your breast together, eyes closed. Thanking sweet baby Jesus in heaven! “You gonna tell me how to pleasure you? I know what I’m doing. Shhh.” 

He bites the inside of your thigh, a moan let out a little too loud. You cover your mouth with your hand. You sit up on your elbows to watch him work his way to your release but the darkness makes it hard to see much, “Take me inside.”

Oscar licks your cunt once more before leaning up to kiss you, your arousal on his tongue and lips, “Ever taste yourself before, hm?” He kisses you more not letting you answer.

“Hm, yeah. I’ve tasted other girls too, but you’re right, mine is sweet like peaches.” You whisper as you peck his lips then looking into his eyes, his mouth slightly agape at your confession. You’re smirking as your hands move under his tank to feel his skin.

He doesn’t say anything as he collects your shorts and his flannel, picking you up and placing you on his shoulder, your ass cheeks bare in just your lace thong. “Oh my gosh, Oscar!”

Oscar smacks your ass he walks to the two of you into his house. You won’t lie to yourself that you’ve fantasized about getting into bed with him. The guy is not just beautiful being but sexy as fuck as well and he knows it too.

He drops you on his bed and rids himself of his tank, you doing the same. He climbs onto the bed and hovers over you, you wrapping your legs over his hips pulling his face down to kiss you. No more slow moving, no more games. It’s freaky business NOW.

You reach your hand between the two of you to feel him through his pants. And he does not disappoint in his size. You unbuckle his annoyingly long belt, finally getting it free for you to unbutton his jeans. You move your hand inside and wrap your hand on his semi-hardened member, stroking it entirely. He groans into your mouth as you do so. 

“I’m wet and you’re hard, com’n.”

 He stops kissing you and reaches between the two of you to take your hand out of his pants. He shimmies out of it and sits up to remove your panties. And with your demand to hurry, he spits on your mound and smears it around before guiding himself in.

The slight burn passes quickly as the pleasurable sensation hits you soon after. You bite your lip as Oscar stands at the foot of the bed, moving your legs up to rest against him. He starts slowly for the two of you to get familiar with the feeling of each other.

You arch your back to reach under to unclasp your bra. He marvels at your tits as you kneed them, looking at him in the eyes with lust, “Show me how Spooky fucks, Papi.” The sultry way you say his street name makes him hold your legs against him tighter.

And he pushes himself into you as deep as he can possibly go and out just as fast, hitting your cervix and creating a pleasurable pain that you’ve not experienced before. His hips like a piston, drilling you into his bed so much so that you’re sure there’ll be a indentation when he is done with you.

“Oh. shiiii, mhm.” You moan out, gripping the sheet on the sides of you, biting down on your lip to suppress the moan that is threatening to escape. His low moans isn’t helping you either, you can’t hold it in.

This only makes Oscar grin when you moan out loud and he loves it. “Hm, louder, bebecita. Let them hear how good Spooky fucks you.”

His voice when pleasuring you is an entirely different thing, it added to the already overload of goodness you are receiving from him. Oscar, or Spooky you should say, pushes your legs apart so that he can climb on top of you, him still inside you as you scoot closer to the headboard. Once your head is on the pillows, you rest your legs wider to give him the adequate space he’ll need for a good pounding.

Once his hands grip the headboard, it is game over for you. He is angling his hips to hit spots you never knew you had, deep and slow for one moment and then at speed lighting the next. With the different speeds it leads you feeling the building sensation. It saddened you that you are reaching your peak so quick.

“I-I’m gonna cum.” You tell him and he releases the headboard, sliding his hands underneath you, gripping the flesh of your ass. It confuses you for moment, as he snuggles his face into your neck. But when he begins to drill you into oblivion, you gasp loudly. His low grunts into your ear, his hot breath harshly hitting the side of your neck.

Skin slapping and animalistic groans. Oscar can feel how close you are, your walls squeezing him like a vice, “Fuck, cum. I’m about to.” He mumbles.

As if his wish is your body’s command, the feeling hits you harshly. You clench onto him, your arms hooking under his and nails digging into his back, “Oh! oh! Yes, fuck yes!” The orgasm hits you harder than you expect.

Oscar groans once more before pushing himself up and grabbing himself, pumping his length only for a short moment when his seed spurts onto your slick with sweat torso. His eyes close and head tipped back, “Fuck.”

Still lost in a haze you release a deep breath, maneuvering yourself to get a taste of him. From the source. You take his entire length in his mouth, the after sex sensitivity hitting him, he flinches but watches you swallow him whole.

“Hm, I gotta get you to cum in my mouth next time, hm?” You sit up on your knees and he backs off the bed, handing you a towel to wipe yourself clean, he only laughs.

“Nena, who says we’re done here?”

[fieldfullofbangtan]

bts hc: dating bts

a/n: im ashamed for not having made this yet like df. some of these turned out so long im sorry...

Seokjin

your happiness is all that matters to him

if you’re smiling he’s smiling

which is why his dadjokes go from 0-100 when he’s around you

windshield-wiper laugh is all you hear

you’ll get annoyed and try to hit him

but he doesn’t mind

cuz you don’t hit hard, you hit out of ~love~

always gets his way

probably because he’s a pro at pouting

parades you around

so proud to be your boyfriend

would give you the title “most beautiful person in the universe”

cuz worldwide doesn’t do you justice

the boys would cringe sooo hard at the two of you

honestly what single person wouldn’t you guys are the cutest couple of all time

“haters gon’ hate”

Namjoon

so caring

even though he’s the one who constantly hurts himself he’s always so worried about you

you guys aren’t even close the the point of having kids but he already acts like such a dad

“hey Taehyung can you empty the dishwasher”

“I know you like those pants Jimin but they’re too revealing, think about our audience!”

meanwhile you’re daydreaming about him being the future father of you children

protects you with his life

and you know he does because occasionally he’ll “save” you from tripping or something and he’ll hurt himself instead

sometimes you wonder if he behaves like that just so you can nurse him back to health

the embodiment of daddy

a dad in the streets

a daddy in the sheets

b/c of his leader role in bts you automatically became the illegitimate mom of the rest of the members

“(Y/N) eomma”

“omg Jin... one; she’s younger than you, and two;  I don’t know how I feel about you calling my gf ‘mom’”

“It’s just a funny nickname calm down Namjoon... appa”

fkn weird

Yoongi

loves you

but also hates you because you’ve exposed him

such a softie around you

the others aren’t terrified of him anymore

now they just tease him :(

as soon as he sees you he just lights up

kinda want to quote the entire song “i don’t care” by ed sheeran

yup he’s so soft he’s living out a justin bieber and ed sheeran song

Whipped

with a capital W

even has a photo album on his phone titled the poop emoji with pictures of you

calls you his soulmate

“Yoongi hyung has been in his studio for 7 hours now...”

“Don’t worry I’ve got this. *opens and closes front door* WOW HEY (Y/N) WE’VE MISSED Y-”

*boy bursts out of his studio*

“BABY?- ...i hate you guys”

the other members use you against him

if they want him to do anything they’ll just make you ask him first

“yoongi pleaaase follow us to karaoke”

“fuck no”

“(y/n) says she’s coming”

“i’ll be there”

Hoseok

everybody has their own view on perfection

for him it was you

he never shut up about you

would plan amazing romantic dates

just so that he could see your surprised and happy face

you would never not support him

in your eyes he was the most talented person on earth

he would just stare at you in awe from time to time

not really believing that you guys were dating

“hoseok... hoseok?”

“huh? what?”

“is there something on my face? you were staring-”

*kisses you out of no where*

bitter jk: “yea (y/n) you have a hoseok on your face”

pda aint an issue for him

the annoyed groans that echoed around you two when you were a little too lovey-dovey just fueled you

nj: “can you guys please get a room”

“ok”

*goes into namjoons room*

“HEY NO WTF”

Jimin

would kling onto you like a koala

almost as if you would disappear if he let go

co-dependant

sleeping next to him is a challenge

because he wants to be so close to you he’s practically merging into you

you don’t mind

you like it

the other members don’t though

“jimin ill give you 100 bucks if you can keep a 1 meter distance from (y/n) for 5 minutes”

“bet”

*fails miserably*

did i mention co-dependent

would ask you to follow him to the kitchen from the living room

because he’d miss you to death otherwise

everyone thought his clingy-ness was just a phase

it’s wasn’t

loves it when you give him praise

you try to help him get over his self-doubt

sometimes he listens

sometimes he doesn’t

it’s a work in progress

Taehyung

there’s never a dull moment when you are together

the other members love you almost as much as Tae does

because you make the group dynamic even better

probably because you balance out Tae’s occasional weirdness

“(Y/N) YOUR BOYFRIEND IS LAUGHING UNCONTROLLABLY AGAIN”

“im on it”

*ends up laughing uncontrollably together*

“well fuck”

so pure and kindhearted

he loves to make you laugh

though sometimes when he’s feeling down you’re the one who needs to make him laugh

it’s an easy task tho

some cringy aegyo and you’re good to go

for him family is important

so the fact that his entire family adores you makes him want to marry you right here right now

“mrs. kim! taehyung’s right here- oh... yes i’ve been eating well. no don’t worry i just lost a little weight due to stress. he’s been taking good care of me i promise mrs. kim. sure lunch this weekend sounds great! see you then!”

“was that my mom?”

“yea”

“did she ask to talk to me?”

“umm... no” 

“wow”

don’t know if offended or happy

Jungkook

yall are hella sneaky

pranks galore

you’re a power’couple

unstoppable in every way

especially when playing video games

playing mario-kart?

first and second place

yall even tied for first place a few times

jin: “IM NOT PLAYING THIS ANYMORE THEY ARE CHEATING”

“no hyung, you just suck”

“YOU TAKE THAT BACK”

you were cheating tho by teaming up

cuz if you played against each other it would turn into a fight

you’re both stubborn as hell

and can joke-argue with each other just for fun

you make sure it never goes too far tho

as soon as one of you actually start to get mad/annoyed for real you just move it to the bedroom 

 ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

you’re each others safe space and support system

he’d come to you whenever he wasn’t feeling good and you’d offer all the time and love that you had

those times often ending in deep conversations about the meaning of life and him falling asleep on the couch with his head in your lap

you make him so happy

and he makes you so happy

[ninaahelvar]

The Stakeout (4/5)

Summary: In order to get all the information they can, the detective duo, Bakugou and Uraraka, must go on a stakeout. But close proximity may force some underlying feelings to come to the surface. Also known as “Bakugou had a really bad date and it gives him perspective”

AO3

A/N: please thank @doesitsaysassonmyuniform for all her hard work on this chapter. it wouldn’t be out without her. all the funny stuff was her. i will not take credit for her genius.

There was a heavy buzzing under his head, like a hive of angry bees had infested his pillow. He groaned, rolling over as his head throbbed. He’d drunk way too much last night.

Buzz buzz

Was it his alarm? What time was it anyway? It couldn’t have been that late in the day, not with how his room was barely lit when he’d managed to pry open his eyes. It was a small blessing - if he’d been late for work on top of everything else, he might just kill someone.

Buzz buzz

He didn’t hear his alarm, so it must be his phone. He had vague recollections of the night before, passing out on his bed before he could even get undressed. Had he put his phone on silent?

With another groan, he wrenched his head up out of the cradle of his arms, and fumbled for his phone.  He squinted in the morning light - it was low, but not enough to avoid hurting his eyes - and finally flipped his blankets in frustration. It flew out onto the floor with a thud and he stretched out to get it, his stomach rising into his throat as he moved.

Extremely hungover - noted.

By the time he picked up his phone, it had finally stopped buzzing, leaving a faint ringing in his ears at the sudden silence. Bakugou frowned as he turned on the screen, the blur of notifications clearing as his eyes focused.

Shitty Hair (9 Missed Calls)

Shitty Hair: Holy shit I can’t believe u did it!

Shitty Hair: (10 Messages)

Did what? Why was that fucking bastard calling him at - he checked the top of his phone - six in the morning anyway?  He unlocked his phone and opened his texting app, and was met with a wall of grey message bubbles.

Shitty Hair: Uraraka just txted me!!

(missed call)

Shitty Hair: Seriously dude pick up

(missed call)

Shitty Hair: if ur fkn asleep rn I stg

(missed call)

Shitty Hair:  I can’t believe u did it!

(missed call)

Shitty Hair: It better not be a joke or ill kill u

(missed call)

Shitty Hair: ok I don’t care if ur asleep ill make u answer

(missed call)

Shitty Hair: Dude she’s super freaked rn cause u wont respond

(missed call)

Shitty Hair: look im porud u finally did it but u cant send that and then go silent

(missed call)

Shitty Hair: *proud

Shitty Hair: HOLY SHIT I CANT BELIEVE U DID IT!

Bakugou was starting to have a bad feeling, one entirely outside of his hangover. It felt like something was squeezing his chest, and it was getting tighter and tighter the more he read. He looked at the icon, and winced at the little number telling him he had more unread messages.

From Uraraka.

Shit.

He clicked on the thread, and scrolled all the way up to his last message.

@ 1:37am

You: heyyyy want som fuk??

You: shit no i mean

You: ur hot

You: it pisses me off

You: we should fuck tho

You: aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

No. No no no no no no. No! Fuck! No! The universe was fucking playing with him, right? This couldn’t be real. Fuck! It was, it was staring him in the fucking face! FUCK! He was going to explode his entire apartment.

Round Face: ...what?

Round Face: Bakugou wtf?

Round Face: Do you mean that??

Round Face: How drunk are you rn??

Round Face (2 missed calls)

Round Face: I’m gonna murder you

In the midst of Bakugou’s midlife - soon to be end of life - crisis, his phone started to ring, Kirishima’s face beaming as his name appeared. Bakugou immediately answered, pressing his phone to his ear as he hung his head between his legs.

“What did you do?” he asked, and Bakugou did the only thing he could think of.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

“You fucking idiot,” Kirishima laughed and Bakugou threw himself backwards on his bed, hand pressed to his forehead.

“I WAS DRUNK! I DON’T EVEN REMEMBER!”

“Well lucky for you phones don’t exist and neither does she - oh wait.” Bakugou could hear that smug voice of his radiating through the fucking phone and he wanted to burn it in his hand.

“NOOOOOOOOO!” Bakugou whined, feeling completely beside himself - unaware of how ridiculous he was sounding. He was just having the worst day of his life, and it was showing.

“Hey, at least it’s out there now, right? She didn’t say no.”

“I wanna die. I’m jumping out the window.”

“You are the biggest drama queen I know,” Kirishima laughed, and Bakugou put his head between his legs, a sickening feeling rising in his throat and the overwhelming urge to projectile vomit across his apartment was becoming an almost welcoming idea.

“I will kill you later,” Bakugou groaned, shaking his hand through his hair, over and over again until he felt like he was at ease. He didn’t stop for a while.

“Oh, so you’re actually coming into work?” Kirishima sounded surprised, and it dawned on Bakugou...this day was going to be his last - he was deciding it before it was even over, his last day alive would be that day.

“I don’t fucking know, give me an hour to die first,” Bakugou said, knowing this would be the first time that he was late - and having no other excuse than being a fucking drunken moron.

Bakugou stumbled into work, his clothes a mess, hair barely done, and collar sticking up to hide his face. With every step, it felt like eyes were on him, watching his every move, and it made every hair on his body stand on end - he needed to fight something soon otherwise he’d go stir crazy.

Before interacting with anyone else, a bounding bubble of joy crashed alongside him, knocking him off balance. Bakugou stared back at his partner who smiled like a child - and his heart was racing like an idiot.

Her expression fell, clicking her tongue as she took him in. Why the fuck was he feeling so hot? He felt like he was a rising thermometer, about to burst at the fuckng end. He was a walking infomercial, some fucked up idiot that can’t keep it down.  

“Wow you look wrecked. Sleep well, Blasty?” she asked, a slight pout as she stepped closer to him.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

“Not as wrecked as your face.” The two of them frowned at the words. Why did he speak at all? “Anyway, Case!”

FUCKKKKKKKK STOP TALKING!

If a villain could come in through the window and suplex him out of existence right now, he’d be grateful. So. Fucking. Grateful.

Now, Bakugou wasn’t a religious man. He didn’t believe in a higher power. That felt like a mistake - because God was punishing him for his abject atheism. This was a goddamn joke, and God was clearly laughing.

If he got down on his knees and started praying, would it stop?

Uraraka quirked an eyebrow at him, before answering. “Yeah, we had a new lead come in this morning and most teams are on it, you missed Aizawa’s speech.”  

Fuck.  Aizawa knew he was late.

Praying wouldn’t save him now.

Uraraka guided them both to their desks, rattling on about the case -  something about a guy getting into some dark shit with trafficking young kids. In the end, Bakugou found concentrating hard. He would normally listen and make sure to take notes when it came to figuring out who the guy was - but he just couldn’t stop watching her. He watched and wondered why the hell she wasn’t saying anything. Uraraka replied to the messages, she even called - and now it was radio silence.

Normally, Bakugou would yell about it - but it felt wrong to bring it up, it could embarrass them both, and although he didn’t embarrass easy, this was completely new for him. Embarrassment came easier with all that romantic shit. It was stupid and frustrating and Bakugou hated the fact that he fell for it all, after years of denying himself.

Bakugou wasn’t built for this shit, and it definitely showed.

As Uraraka went to talk to eye witnesses - a task that Bakugou was strictly not allowed to do anymore - he went to the kitchen, making himself a coffee and praying it woke him up enough to stop the nagging sensation in his heart and the throbbing in his head.

A whisper then came into his ear.

“Hey, want some fuck with that coffee?”

Bakugou spat out his coffee and it sprayed across the kitchen bench. Kirishima laughed behind him, moving away to grab a donut - the fucking prick.  Bakugou was meant to be safe here, away from her and this fucker had to come and ruin it.  

Bakugou coughed, thumping his chest before turning to glare at the other man. “Could you keep your fucking voice down, Shitty Hair?”

“I don’t know - can you look Uraraka in the eye?” Kirishima quirked his eyebrow and Bakugou stepped towards the pointy haired bastard.

“Want me to rip yours out?”

“Tetchy tetchy. Don’t lash out at me cause you’re not getting any.” Kirishima stuffed the donut into his grinning teeth, and Bakugou tried to burn holes into the fucker’s skull.

“Murder. Expect murder.”

Kirishima only laughed, waving at Bakugou as he went back to his desk. In the back of his mind, Bakugou could only think the asshole was talking about him - gossiping about Bakugou’s idiotic love life and how ridiculous this all was.

Bakugou wanted to fucking die.

The window looked so inviting, calling to him like a siren’s song.

As he sat in the kitchen, looking over notes on the case he hadn’t paid attention to, a loud blaring noise came over the speakers of the precinct. It was unusual for an alarm to go off - on rare occasions when fire alarm detected smoke (which may have been Bakugou - no on proved it was) or emergencies. With the chaos that was soon surrounding him, Bakugou guessed the latter.

“What the fuck is going on?” Bakugou asked as Kirishima ran back towards the equipment room.

“Genzo’s been spotted. We’ve gotta go,” he panted as he ran. He didn’t even stop.

Aizawa burst from his office, his scarf that was rarely off was primed at the ready. “He’s on the move! Everyone get going!” he demanded, stopping short of the door to look back at Bakugou, glaring. “That includes you, Bakugou!” he snapped, and Bakugou sighed, throwing aside his paperwork to head into the equipment room.

Kirishima handed him all his guards and gauntlets, the two rushing out as Uraraka was fixing her earpieces in, rolling her shoulders to prep herself. Bakugou smirked, watching as she worked her magic as she got ready for a fight. Regardless of how much of an ass he made of himself, he still couldn’t get over Uraraka being a goddamn badass at her job.

They got to the site of Genzo’s attack. He had completely wrecked a transport vehicle, exploded it like an atomic bomb and was causing a fucking disaster zone by the sheer amount of electric power around him.

“Any casualties?” Bakugou asked, tightening his gauntlets and making sure they were ready to go when he needed them.

“Two police officers that we know of,” Aizawa said, going over the short notes he was given by officers on the scene.

“Any officers we know?” Uraraka asked, her voice a little strained as she asked. Bakugou looked over to her.

“None,” Aizawa replied. Bakugou watched as Uraraka sighed. Deku. He knew who she was thinking of, and it made a spot in between his shoulder blades ache. He bound his fists and kept his attention on the chaos. This guy was burning every fuse within his view, drawing all of it to him and sending it back at people.

“Our main priority is to protect civilians, and keep him away from the generators. He probably saw he was close to the power plant - we have to keep him away and out of reach of that power. We have no idea what he’ll do with it.”

And with that, the teams were divided - one person on civilians, the other on containment. Both Uraraka and Bakugou knew their place without even a glance. Bakugou set off an explosion as Uraraka moved a group of worried people out of the way. She was great, when another eruption came through, she’s catch them in time and float them to safety - barely even registering that she’d activated her quirk.

When Bakugou set off an explosion that ripped up the entire road - something he knew he’d get in deep shit over later - he watched as the other agents got into position, preparing for their next move and knowing the reach of Bakugou’s quirk. The ground ripped up and threw Genzo around, knocking him against a building and an audible yell of pain rumbled through the area. It gave them time to evacuate. It’s all they needed right now.

Uraraka went to Bakugou’s side, panting a little as she pointed. “Group, ten o’clock. You got this?” she asking, pointing to the group of huddled people just across from Genzo. Bakugou scoffed at Uraraka’s words.

“Tch, who the fuck do you think I am?”

“Yeah, yeah, just wait for my signal,” she laughed, moving off, touching pieces of rubble that were easy to float. Bakugou smirked, watching as they floated skyward and eventually just guiding her hands on all the rubble she passed with her quirk activated. It wasn’t long before Uraraka found the stuck bystanders and pointed them to a safe route out of the danger zone. But Genzo was quicker than either of them had anticipated, rising from his injured state, rolling his shoulders with a tight grimace on his face.

Genzo roared, sapping the power from a nearby building, the electricity crackling over his skin and bared for a quick release. He wanted to inflict damage and make it count - Bakugou could see it in his eyes. Genzo looked for anything that was moving. The civilians. Uraraka saw it too, and she did something stupid.

She knew it too.

“Get back!” Uraraka called to the civilians, and Bakugou watched in horror as Genzo reacted first - her voice drawing too much attention. Her warning, was an attraction. The fucker moved quick - faster than any of them could have expected, and Bakugou redirected his explosions, trying to counter as best he could to the new position. He set off an explosion behind him, sending him to their location as fast as he could.

He wasn’t gonna make it.

“Uraraka, move!”

She turned her head, eyes widening and arms coming out to block far too late as the energy surge hit her full force. Uraraka was knocked so far back, she’s skidding across pavement like it’s slick. When she stops, she’s flinching, over and over again - her body reacting to the electric current running over her body.

He saw her hands come together, letting the meteor shower rain down, catching Genzo off guard and trying to evade the oncoming onslaught. He wasn’t expecting Bakugou though.

He was only a split second behind.

“DIE YOU FUCKING BASTARD!”  

Bakugou came bounding in, hands directed at the target and firing off two of the most explosive blasts he had ever mustered. It knocked Genzo to the ground, and Bakugou landed over him, his fits binding tight as he repeatedly punched - throwing him about as the bastard laughed. Once Bakugou finally cracked one of Genzo’s teeth, his face a bloody mess of what it once was - Bakugou regained his sense and tossed Genzo off to the side.

In the aftermath, there was silence - waiting for the next thing to fall or the next blast to knock over a bunch of people. But it was just simply silence. In the ash and smoke, Bakugou waded through it, leaving Genzo to whatever fate he had left him in, finding his partner curled  up and in pain.

Bakugou dropped to her side, hands fluttering around her useless as he took her in. This was bad. This was fucking bad. Her clothes were a disaster, the giant hole in her vest giving way to blistered and blackened skin. Some of it had fused to the fabric, and it made bile rise up in his throat just to see it.  He didn’t even know if he could touch her but one look at her glassy eyes made it impossible not to move.  

The ozone in the air made his skin stand on end - and that was the only reason - as he pulled her into his lap as gently as he could. “Hey Round face,” he lightly tapped her cheeks and she turned to look at him. Her brown eyes were so unfocused. “Stay with me, fucker.”

Her face was so pale and her mouth moved wordlessly for a moment before she was able to speak. “You called me Uraraka.”

His throat was tight. “Yeah well you’d kill me if I called you Round face in public, Round face.”

Her lips quirked ever so slightly, eyes looking somewhere over his shoulder. “You just did…ugly.”

“Yeah I guess I did.”

Kirishima landed heavily at their side, and his breath hitched when he saw her chest. “Dude..”

“Genzo?”

Kirishima shook himself. “Right. He’s out - you did a number on him. The police have got it covered. EMT’s should be here any second.”

Bakugou brushed some hair out of her face - it was just getting all tangled and sweaty anyway.  She didn’t even notice. “You with me Round Face?”

“Yeah - but- but my chest feels -” She tried to get up and he had to force her back down.

“Fuck don’t move okay - you’re gonna be fine.” He scanned the street, and couldn’t push down the relief as the familiar jackets of the EMT’s came into view. “Hey! We need some help over here!”

People ran over, moving Bakugou against his will. But in the end, when he watched Uraraka flinch in pain, he knew he wasn’t needed anymore. Regardless of how desperately he wanted to stay. They were fragile with her, placing her gently into the stretcher, and finally into the ambulance. Driving away, Bakugou felt his heart lurch.

Nakamura Genzo was captured easily, given more restraints and heavier security around him. They treated him for his injuries - third degree burns, his entire right side was a mess of broken ribs and bruises, and the left was a little less severe. Bakugou needed to work on his left hook apparently. Genzo had a punctured lung from one of his ribs, and his front teeth were busted, but it didn’t matter to Bakugou. He was taken in - he was completely taken care of. Bakugou just cared about one thing.

~*~*~

Hospitals were always a place of pain - mostly for Bakugou on certain missions, yet now it was different. The fluorescent lights were straining his eyes as he walked through the halls - the constant wailing and crying was enough to keep him away too. Yet, she was there. His partner was laid up in a hospital bed in whatever fucking condition Genzo left her in. Bakugou was told the room number and he walked to it with bound fists at his side.

Flowers were already placed in her room, cards lining the benches with well wishes. Uraraka was already propped up - though there had been a day between her injuries and his visit. The rest of the team had already gone to see her. Bakugou was questioned a fuck tonne in order to explain Genzo’s injuries. He didn’t have much else to say other than “what would you rather me do? Beat him within an inch of his life, or let him kill everyone in the area?”

After that, he was allowed home, where he stared at his phone waiting for an update.

Kirishima texted late saying Uraraka was asking after him.

Bakugou knew he had to go see her after that.

He hung back by the door as Uraraka stopped playing with her phone, smiling down to whoever was contacting her. She looked up and her smile dropped, like seeing him was more of a shock than a surprise. Bakugou’s jaw set tight and his heart felt like it was trapped in between two ribs - unable to beat without causing him pain.

“Bakugou, hey, I was wondering when you’d -”

“What the hell was that?” he snapped, his chest a mess of emotions he would never allow himself to process.

Uraraka sighed, scratching lightly at her brow. “I know I was a little -”

“You were reckless and put yourself in danger for that shitty mission,” he snarled, moving to the foot of her bed. Her once soft expression turned to that of defiance, her brow crinkling in frustration.

“Hey! I’m not as fragile as you -”

“I don’t think you’re fragile, moron! You were putting your life in danger for nothing,” he said, hands gripped tight to the edge of her bed.

“Don’t be an idiot,” she spat back, folding her arms over her chest.

“What?” His brow knit, watching as she stared back at him, anger etched into her features.

“You’re being an asshole, saying you think I can take it, but then say I can’t because I’m weak. I can fucking take it!”

“I know you can fucking take it, but I can’t! Not like this!” The rage let slip the words that were held back - anger and frustration finally touching at the parts of himself he wanted to hide away. His hands bound together, tight fists by his side as his jaw set. If he couldn’t unbind his teeth, he wouldn’t need to answer her obvious question.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

There it was.

“Don’t do it again, idiot,” he replied, voice breaking and pushing himself off the bed, moving out of the hospital room and going home. He had the day off anyway.

It was just mistake after mistake.

Words said.

Actions not taken.

Secrets let slip.

Everything was a goddamn mistake.

With his head in his hands, Bakugou could feel regret gripping him, like a force that bound him to the feelings that made him scared of himself. She made him scared. No one could make him fear the unknown - pain, injuries, death - it was all he ever craved. But she went down, and everything came flooding over him, like a fucking tidalwave, saturating his being until he was as desperate as any other fucker on the planet.

It wasn’t Bakugou.

And it all made him scared. Of Uraraka. For Uraraka.

What did it all mean when everything else was a fucking mess? He hated that he couldn’t piece himself together, unravelling like a perfectly tied up coil coming apart by one tight pull.

Word went around that Uraraka was released from the hospital after two days, and given a week’s bed rest. She deserved more for all the work she did, but Bakugou knew she’d bounce back sooner or later.

Bakugou was midway through writing a report for Aizawa when a booming voice called out through the precinct. “Hey! Asshole!” The whole room turned, seeing Kirishima storming through. He wasn’t the type of dude that got pissed off easily, so it was a surprise. Then, he pointed directly at Bakugou. “Yeah you!”

“The fuck did you just call me?” Bakugou said, standing and standing face to face with the bastard.

“You haven’t gone to see Uraraka, I get to call you what I like!”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, stepping back from Kirishima and going back to his desk. “I don’t have to do shit all,” he replied, only for Kirishima to haul him back, fists in each other’s clothes - the two like gasoline and fire, ready to erupt at any moment.

“She’s fucking expecting you, so go!” Kirishima replied, his features hardening, expecting the fight.

“Who are you to demand -”

“I’m your best friend, so listen to me and go see Uraraka. Tonight!” he yelled. The precinct was silent, and Bakugou suddenly felt seen - that there was something telling everyone about he and Uraraka other than being partners. He didn’t want to be seen. Bakugou shoved Kirishima back, straightening out his clothes as he looked back at the spikey haired bastard.

“Fine! Fuck,” he swore, murmuring curses under his breath as he went back to his work, holding back on his anger.

It wasn’t as though he didn’t care about Uraraka. She’d had injuries worse than this. Fuck, Bakugou had stayed at her house while she had a broken leg and a few broken ribs before - cooking, cleaning, doing her laundry. This was different. She didn’t seem to need him like before.

Maybe he was just…

Scared wasn’t the right word.

He wasn’t ready.

After everything that had happened, he wasn’t ready for her to see him and maybe understand what he said.

But he did have to see her. Check in.

It was only right.

~*~*~

It was weird, holding a bag of things for her as he stood outside her door. It was a crumbly old apartment building with like no space other than the essentials. With most of Uraraka’s money going to her parents, Bakugou understood why she stayed there, but for once he’d wish she’d think about herself.

Huffing, he knocked on the door. It was harder than he anticipated, but it didn’t matter. With barely a second to straighten out his shoulders when Uraraka opened the door. He felt a lump in the back of his throat when he saw her. It had been four days since she left the hospital, and four days since they’d seen each other. She had a few tiny cuts and bruises on her arms and on her cheek, but other than that - she was just Uraraka.

She was in grey tracksuit pants and an oversized hoodie she’s gotten at their time with the agency. It was far too big, slipping off her shoulder as she took Bakugou in.

“Bakugou,” she said, voice a little shaken. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

He gave a vague shrug. “Kirishima.”

“Oh, okay.” Uraraka cleared her throat before she opened the door a little wider. “Come in,” she said, gesturing for him to enter. He followed and went inside, handing her the bag as she walked past him.

“Here,” he grumbled, focusing his attention to the floor. She peered inside the bag before gasping.

“Mochi donuts?! Thank you,” she smiled, tucking hair behind her ear.

“It’s better than the nothing I was going to get you,” he replied.

“But Kirishima talked you into it?” Bakugou returned a vague ‘tch’ sound before he stood back in her hallway and Uraraka was wandering into her kitchen.

“How’s the burn?” he asked, clearing his throat as his arms folded over his chest. He wasn’t sure what the fuck to do with himself. He felt cornered, that the walls might swallow him and he may never be allowed to leave - in a constant state of waiting for her to ask about the texts and what happened at the hospital.

“It’s fine. I barely feel it. Recovery girl really helped the process along so I’m ready to get back to work.” There was a voice she put on - a raise in her chin as she acted tough. A show for him to not think any less of her. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

“Good. That’s good,” he said, clearing his throat again and pushing off from the wall. “I only came ‘cause shitty hair made me. I’m gonna leave,” he said, going towards the door, ready to open it.

“What did you mean in the hospital?” she asked, voice quiet compared to earlier. She was scared. His hand was at the handle, inches from turning the knob, but he turned, looking back at Uraraka as she fiddled with the ends of her hoodie.

“What?”

She raised her chin, fingers still at the ends of her sleeves, nervously pulling at them. “I’m not repeating myself.”

He huffed. “I didn’t mean -”

“I’m tired of your shit Bakugou!” She yelled, and he stared across at her in shock. When he didn’t reply, she continued. Uraraka almost charged him as she spoke, getting right into his space and not backing away for a second. “If you lie to me, I swear to god, I’m going to fling you out the window, now tell me!”

She stared at him, a rage that only Bakugou could bring out of her. And in the midst of it, the scared teenager that couldn’t get over a crush was hammering away and begging for his chance. In the end, the man won out, and acted in the only way he knew how to.

Bakugou wasn’t a guy of many words.

So he didn’t use them.

He surged forward.

He didn’t dare to touch her, only kissing her as swiftly as body could allow, towering over her and making her stagger backwards. She gripped into his shoulders, responding with the most beautiful lips he had ever tasted. Then, she pulled back, staring back - no anger, just confusion, written into her features.

“W-what? Does this -”

“Stop fucking talking, round face,” he growled back, forehead resting against hers. He tried to dive right back in, only managing to steal a small kiss before she pulled away. Bakugou froze, watching as a smile grew on her lips right before she stole another. He smirked, knowing the game she was playing.

She tempted and teased, pulling back the moment Bakugou was about to latch his lips to hers, to never part them for as long as his lust would hold out. Whatever she she was doing, she knew the exact way to have Bakugou fall for it - she was going to have Bakugou everyway she wanted him, and he fucking knew it. All the while, it wound him up, like he was a jack-in-the-box, and god, was he ready to spring out and surprise her.

In one swift guide of his arm, he pulled her in by her waist, snaring her lips with his own and kissing her as sharply as he needed. He wanted her, and he wanted her the moment he stepped foot into her apartment. Pressing her up against the wall, she let out a soft gasp against his mouth, but he wanted to surprise her - do everything that every ounce of lust within him wanted to do. Her sweats were still midway down her thigh but they weren’t off, which gave Bakugou every excuse. Turning Uraraka around, her hands pressed against the wall - he bent and took down the remaining parts of her pants, bending down and watching the way her body swayed with each move he made.

Bakugou couldn’t help himself, hand squeezing into her ass, the bounce and shake of it making everything in him rise - adrenaline and lust surging across him. He teeth scraped across one cheek before he bit into it a little harder. Uraraka mewled, hands clawing at the wall - hard enough for Bakugou to hear - and as Bakugou kissed at the spot he not-so-delicately bit into, her hands released, reaching behind her to gently stroke at his hair. She looked over her shoulder as Bakugou took her underwear down swiftly, he wasn’t going to waste any more fucking time.

Gripping in once more, he pushed his face in the crevasse of her cheeks, tongue stroking at her tender lips and immediately making Uraraka rise on her toes. She fell back down, pushing her hips into his face, and holy fuck did he enjoy it. Bakugou held onto her thighs, widening her stance as he lapped up all that she was feeling. Uraraka whined, panting as he kept his mouth on her entrance, delivering his tongue in just to hear her moaning gasps.

“Oh, Bak -” she whined, and his hand snaked from her thigh to taking his tongue’s place, fingers circling her folds before entering her slowly. He slowly rose to his feet, her hand slipping from his hair back to the wall, and he kissed up the back of her neck to have her shiver against him. “Baku -”

“Katsuki,” he whispered in her ear.

“Fuck, Katsuki!” she said, pushing her hips against his hand, forcing it directly into his hips. She may not have known she was doing so, but she rocked perfectly onto his crotch, his cock aching inside his jeans. “Right there, right there! Right there!” she cried, her voice soft and desperate. She spurred him on, fingers working overtime just to hear what it would sound like when she finally came.

Her hips pushed back hard against him, her panting becoming a little harder to control and Bakugou could feel her around his fingers - Uraraka was at the end of her tether. She reached behind herself once more, hand on his wrist as she breathed in heavy gasps. He didn’t know if she was trying to stop him, or was telling him to keep going - either way, she crashed against the wall, crying out a little moan and pushing her ass straight up against his hips.

“Fuck,” he groaned, feeling the strain in his pants. “I’m not going to last if you keep pushing your ass into me,” he said into her ear. Uraraka looked over her shoulder, brushing hair from her face.

“I didn’t say you had to,” she said. Tempt and tease.

“Fuck,” he groaned, tugging on her arm to turn around, “you asked for it,” he warned her before bending down and picking her up into his arms.

Uraraka held onto his face, kissing him as he staggered around her cramped apartment. He fell into walls, struggled past the doorway, and had them falling into the bed. Uraraka giggled, kissing Bakugou before he rolled his hips against her, making her moan a little more. He just needed one more thing before he parted from her. He stood up from the bed, stripping himself of his shirt and kicking off his shoes. Uraraka took the cue and shrugged out of her hoodie and shirt, leaving her only in her bra. As Bakugou snapped off his belt and pushed his pants down, Uraraka unclasped her bra and tossed it aside.

Remembering where he’d seen them the last time - an awkward conversation was had when Bakugou was putting away laundry - he went to Uraraka’s dresser drawer, finding the condoms and tearing at the edge of one. He started to place it on when he saw Uraraka adjust herself slightly. Sitting up, Uraraka moved over to him, her hand gracing over down from his chest to his stomach, fingers tempting to down his length. He caught her wrist loosely, pushing it aside to her confusion.

“What are you doing?” he asked, leaning over her, forehead pressed to her own.

“I wanted to make you feel good,” she said with a flutter of her eyelashes. Bakugou smirked.

“Nah, this is all about you, lie back down.” She did as she was told, crawling her way up the bed and waiting for him to follow after.

Bakugou wasted no time - he could have savoured the beauty of her in all her glory, gaze at her wonder, but he wanted to touch her more than anything. He crawled up the bed, sucking at her skin, nipping underneath her breast and sucking at the edge of her collarbone. All the while she hummed her approval, nipping into his shoulder briefly as they came face to face once more.

Moving his hand down between them, grazing against her most sensitive bundle of nerves, her body arching into his touch. He smirked, the briefest of touches could have her responding, he wondered what more could do for her. When he guided his length inside her, Uraraka’s hands went to his shoulders, pulling their bodies together.

There was only the sound of Uraraka’s panting in the room, but it couldn’t last - Bakugou knew himself too well, he wouldn’t be able to stay still for much longer. He moved his hips slow at first, gaining speed and arching into every thrust to get the best noises out of Uraraka. She obviously hated that she was getting louder and louder. But his ego sure as fuck loved it.

“Katsuki,” she mewled, nails clamped down into his back, raking up as his thrusts came in quicker succession. “Yes! Yes!” she cried, her hand on the back of his neck.

She pulled him down, kissing him roughly, and he enjoyed every fucking second of it. She bit into his bottom lip when she got excited. Bakugou couldn’t help himself, he rocked in harder, taking up the back of her knee. Uraraka arched her back, panting a little harder than even before.

In her movements, he was finally able to look at her without the overwhelming urge to take her. There were scars that littered her skin, some old, some new, following the curves of her waist and hips. Her breasts were round, much like the rest of her, and tempting as everything else - Bakugou kissed down her neck to take one of her nipples between teeth, just to have her push into him again. It worked to perfection, her breast rising beautifully into his mouth, and her hips bucking into his own when he gave a harder thrust. She was perfect to understand, to love and hold in a single moment.

“Ah!” Uraraka said suddenly, her body recoiling in a single beat. Bakugou’s eyes snapped to hers, watching her face contort in discomfort. He pulled away slightly, letting her body fall to where she needed, but never leaving the warm depths between her thighs. Uraraka sighed, laying back into the sheets and looking up at Bakugou with pinker cheeks than usual. He wanted to smile, but he with the sudden halt on everything, he wasn’t sure if the passion had fallen to its wake.

“Shit, are you okay?” he asked, hand ghosting over her side. Uraraka’s hand went to the side of Bakugou’s face, palm to his cheek and guiding him to look back at her.

“I’m fine,” she nodded, “just take it a little slower right now,” she said, a little nervous with a soft laugh to ease her discomfort of their eyes meeting.

“You sure?” he asked once more.

“Yeah,” she replied, Bakugou once again moving his hips, a slow roll to gauge her reaction. Uraraka’s head fell back into the pillow, hand tight in his bicep. “Yes, like that,” she approved, and he smirked.

Bakugou bent onto his elbows, arms snaking behind her back and propping her up into his arms. Uraraka squeaked, the sighing as she sunk down onto his length.

“What are you doing?” she asked, all the while, rocking herself back and forth. Bakugou grit his teeth, breathing out a moan into her chest before looking up at her with a satisfied grin.

“I can’t do all the work, round face,” he said. She leaned down, hands either side of his face, kissing him in a slow, deliberate manner - making them both savour it.

Everything was slow, Uraraka’s pace, soft strides to ease her into it - or perhaps it was the way he hissed everytime she moved, liking the way he sounded, much like he had done to her. Then, she gained confidence and speed, hips jerking in a quicker pace, before she just tried to gain satisfaction by any means possible. She was glorious.

He could feel her unwinding, with every move, and every bounce back onto his cock, he could feel her walls clamping down around him. Whenever she moved down upon him, he’d trust him, making her jump a little in his lap. Before either of them knew it, Uraraka cried out, clutching Bakugou to her chest, hands winding into his hair as she panted out moan after moan.

She sounded like a symphony - gorgeous at her ecstasy. Bakugou watched her move on top of him, her hands stroking through his hair as her eyes looked into his own. He’d never had sex like it - something that made him feel understood, that every movement, all the pace, it was perfect to know who they were between them. Bakugou never wanted to watch anyone else on top of his cock ever again, not unless they looked as beautiful as she did.

In a moment, between his utter wonder and the growing need to come completely undone, Uraraka pulled hard into Bakugou’s hair. He hissed and Uraraka moaned, arching into his new position wonderfully well and he wanted to just take everything he had left in him and please her to every extent he could.

Two could play at that game. He may not have been able to move as fast as he could have liked, but he knew she’d not protest to it. With his hand moving up her back, he took a fistful of her hair and pulled, her neck exposed to him, and fuck he felt hungry for it. His mouth descended upon it, sucking and kissing at her throat, feeling the vibrations of every moam against his tongue. He loved it, and Uraraka knew he enjoyed it too much - especially with every thrust he added to make her close to her next orgasm.

“No fair,” she hissed. Bakugou thrust into her again, and she moaned, pulling at his hair once more, but it was much lighter than it once had been.

“All’s fucking fair game,” he smirked, feeling Uraraka’s hand on his thigh. He thought she may need to lay back down when her finger suddenly bound into his leg, making him jerk upwards into her. She moaned, biting her lip and smiling down at him. “Fuck!” Bakugou groaned, looking back at her.

“All’s fucking fair game,” she repeated his words. Bakugou bit his lip, thrusting into her again, watching as she circled her hips down onto him again.

“If you weren’t injured, I’d -”

“You’d what?” she replied with a smirk, and between his heart bounding like a drum, and his head screaming, he knew he couldn’t stop himself.

“Fuck it,” Bakugou muttered, pushing his weight onto Uraraka’s and onto her back once more, thrusting in one long and hard motion. It wasn’t until after that he thought of his mistake - his lust getting the best of him. Uraraka’s hand went to his ass, gripping in hard with her nails enough to make him hiss. He looked at her face, lip between teeth and chest heaving for more.

“I’ll tell you if it hurts, just keep going,” she begged, forcing his hips closer. When he moved inside her again, she guided him in with a hard pull on his ass. It was harder than he would have, but she enjoyed it all the same - eyes closed and body calling to his like they were magnets that hated to be separated.

His mind told him to go slow, to make sure it all lasted how he needed it to - but he’d be damned if he didn’t chase the sound of her desperate moans to get his own satisfaction. Her next orgasm came over her quickly, her teeth went into his shoulder to suppress the sound, but it did little to help, other than to spur Bakugou on. Her legs went over his hips, heels at the base of his thigh and urging his ass forward with every move he made.

Intimacy was lost on Bakugou, he never liked how he felt being within it, but Uraraka made it all different somehow. When her hand snaked down his arm from his shoulder blade, her caught her wrist, holding it down onto the bed. And he found himself wanting. Like he’d never wanted something so badly in his life. His pressure on her slim wrist went slack, and his fingers slid into her palm, binding into the gaps of her fingers. Uraraka held on tight, their joined hands going over her head as Bakugou continued to stride within her.

She made sure they kissed every few seconds, whining until she could kiss him again, becoming louder and louder to get him to silence her with one of his bruising kisses. Uraraka was using him like a puppet, but he didn’t care - she was heaven to be inside, her body a wonderful combination of sweat and silk and his body was to blame for half of it.

“Oh god,” Uraraka cried, her free hand back in his hair, body moving against his again. He could feel her hardened nipples against his chest with every movement, and he wanted to put his mouth all over her body again. Taste every inch of her. Uraraka whined, hand on his cheek, nails piercing skin behind his ear and on his jaw. “I’m gonna -”

She didn’t even get to finish her sentence, her release rocking through her in waves that made her hips jerk over and over again until Bakugou was following her. He held tight to her hand, the other was gripping tight into her thigh - unable to bring himself to move as he could his release come and go.

“Fuck,” he panted into her chest, trying hard to let her go, but it was no use, he’d drown in her skin before he’d let her move an inch.

Eventually, he had to - lying beside her as she moved to be on his chest. She was practically asleep by the time he’d shifted into his spot next to her.

“You good?” he asked her.

“Hm?” she replied, “Yeah, yeah. Just tired.”

Bakugou shifted, aiming to leave. “Do you need me to -”

“If you move, I’ll kill you,” she warned, hands tight on his body as she held him close.

“Fucking fine, round face,” he said, letting her rest back onto his chest. He smiled, his own exhaustion following hers.

~*~*~

When he woke up, there was hair in his mouth. He threw his head back, spitting it out with a scowl and wincing when it flopped wetly onto his neck. A heavy weight lay on his side, numbing his arm under the pressure. His eyes struggled to open fully, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw the hazlenut hair he was very much used to.

Uraraka.

Holy fucking shit.

Bakugou groaned and slowly pulled his arms back only to stop dead still when she shifted. He waited, tense and holding his breath until she settled back down, soft snores puffing out onto his arm.

He tried again, and after a very slow escape over the next several minutes, he was free. Slipping from the sheets he staggered into the bathroom, took one look in the mirror at his neck covered in hickies, his hair a fucking mess and cheeks flushed - and barely recognised himself. There was no way his eyes should look that bright, or lips that swollen.

He’d had sex with his partner.  

He splashed cold water on himself, and contemplated drowning himself in the sink. He could do this - it was just a moment of passion right? Happened all the time - or so he’d seen in all his mums shitty romcoms.  

He could still feel her breathe against his face, hear the way she’d whispered his name. Feel her nails down his chest and the soft whimpers of her release echoing in his ear.

How the fuck was he meant to work like this?  They were going to have to… to talk about this.

Holy fucking shit was right.  

~*~*~

Bakugou hated quiet, and even with the sound of his pacing footsteps, it was all too much. He had half a mind to wake Uraraka from her sleep, or possibly just sit in her room to hear the fucker snore. Instead, he waited until the pot of coffee had fully brewed and made himself a mug. The rest of it waited for Uraraka to crawl her ass out of bed. It had been nearly two hours since he left, and she was still sound asleep.

He always knew she was a heavy sleeper, but it was like trying to wake to goddamn dead. He had went through most of her things, trying to entertain himself before he had to leave for work, and no matter how much noise he unintentionally made - she stayed in bed. The light of morning was peeking through her curtains, drawing a veil over most of her apartment and casting a glow on Uraraka that was criminal. Gorgeous was not the right word to describe her.

On his way to the kitchen hours before, he picked up his trail of clothes, putting on some as he walked past Uraraka’s. He was unsure of what the fuck to do with hers - was he supposed to pick them up? They were partners and it had been a habit before, long nights and untidy people tend to amount of a clean up when nights were done. But this was different. A line was crossed. They were more than partners.

Regret was something that was new to Bakugou, but he knew this wasn’t it. He stood in her kitchen and came to the conclusion that this was not something he’d ever regret. As far as the sex went, it was fucking great. It might’ve been the best he’d ever had. Maybe it was because he knew her, understood what her reactions could be and learning all new things about someone that he cared for. He wanted her to feel as good as he did.

Yet, what else would come of this? Was there a relationship there? Was he even ready for something like that? It wasn’t like he had one before to gauge what the fuck this even meant. His personality and overall work ethic was a pretty hard thing to deal with for most people. Uraraka was one of the only people that knew him, and still stuck around after. There was a trust between them, a fit that neither of them expected.

What did she even want? Was this all just heat of the moment?

He was about two seconds from marching into her room and finally dragging her out of bed when his phone chimed.

Shitty Hair: U need to come into work. Boss wants to see u

Bakugou rolled his eyes, gripping tight to his phone as he contemplated his next step. He took the remnants of his coffee and poured it down the sink, washing the mug briefly before putting on the remainder of his clothes. When he fixed his jacket over his shoulders, he stopped and saw into Uraraka’s room. She was curled into her sheets peacefully, and Bakugou grit his teeth.

When Kirishima texted again, Bakugou didn’t have time.

He left her apartment and went straight into work.

They could talk later.

He just wasn’t ready yet.