four seasons | (s)
apart of the meet cute: gone wrong series, click here for more!
prompt: meeting at a holiday resort, both with friends or family tagging along
pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader
words: 5.4k
warnings: enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers, spin the bottle, marijuana mentioned, alcohol, drunk sex, begging
It's everything you thought it'd be and more. The sun shines on you in a bright gleam that warms your skin. Your plans had finally made it out of the group chat! This was going to be the best vacation ever. Your sandals slap against the concrete as you trod to your friends with your luggage.
"Hey! Can you guys believe this? It's so beautiful!"
Ayami beams, her short hair bouncing as she nods eagerly, "I can already feel myself re-energizing! All this nature and ocean—oh, it's going to be wonderful!"
Ryoka's hand slips around her girlfriend's waist with a relaxed smile. "Hell yeah. We should go ahead and check-in."
"Already done! No need to thank me," Natsumi brags as she flings the dark oak door open, "had to do it since you guys were taking your sweet time getting out of the car!"
Your cheeks hurt from how much you're smiling. You must've done something heroic in your past life, maybe saving a war-torn city, to have this warm feeling fluttering in your chest. The resort is made better with your friend's banter and complimentary slippers that sink into plush carpet.
An attendant explains things in a blur, yet your eyes are locked onto the glittering ripples of water that peek through a window. The pool is on the first floor, she says. And don't forget to ____, you ignore. Soon enough, all four of you are dashing to claim a spot on white resin lounge chairs. It feels like a dream when your manicured toes glisten under the hot summer air. It becomes more like a fairy tale when your wandering eyes land on something interesting.
He's hot. Scratch that; he's more than hot! Lecherous eyes start at sopping blonde hair pushed back by muscled biceps and veiny forearms. The way the water rolls down his back is absolutely sinful. Even his abs flex as he cockily smirks, pushing back against his red-headed friend during their game of roughhousing.
Not only is he easy on the eyes, but he looks like he fucks, which is the perfect maraschino cherry on top. You could bite into him, and it'd be sugary sweet as the sticky juice runs red down your jugular. Yeah, you could eat him alive and he'd love it. Confidence thrums through you, and you know your time is now. At the same time, he stands casually in the water, merely observing and completely unaware.
You slip in effortlessly and unnoticed, lurking like a shark behind him as you plan your words before making yourself known.
"Hey," you chirp, hands wading in the water.
You expect him to turn to you with a sly smile; maybe he'd grow close and lean on the pool edge as he asked for your name and whether you were single. Only he didn't do any of that. His eyes scan you like you're a drab beige wall, and then he has the nerve to shrug you off.
"Hey."
It's awkward. It's tense. It's very unexpected.
"What's your–"
"I don't need a drink right now," he dismisses with a casual wave.
It actually stuns you into silence. Your mouth drops open and then closes, and then opens again, "I-I'm not a worker! Do workers wear bikinis where you're from?"
The man sneers at your reaction and finally turns to face you. He's taller, broader, and you wish he wasn't so fine because he was turning out to be such a dick. You stand up straighter, squaring your shoulders to stare frustratedly into his eyes.
"No, but I don't bother paying attention to extras when I'm trying to relax," and lewd eyes dip down to your cleavage, "but maybe I can spare you some time."
"An extra!? Oh, fuck you!"
It comes out harshly, and your bottom lip droops as you stare at him: "I just came by to introduce myself, but never mind. I'm leaving."
"Then introduce yourself, or did I scare ya' off?"
You've never met a man so bold. A man with the audacity to call you an extra and still so obviously commit your curves to memory. Introductions come out in a stutter from you with warm cheeks, "and what's your name, so I can report your behavior with the front desk."
"It's Bakugou," he grunts. "Be my guest."
"I will," you challenge.
"How about I report you for harassment, hah?"
"You insulted me first!"
Bakugou shrugs with a smirk. It irritates you beyond belief to see his smug little face. The sun burns too bright and hot on you two, firing you up and encouraging you to storm out of the pool. Bakugou takes the opportunity to leer at your ass as you crawl out the side, wet swim skirt sticking to your curves and making him tug his bottom lip between his teeth.
"Damn," he grunts as you prissily walk off.
Perhaps he judged you too harshly. But then he thought about it, and you just seemed like a spoiled brat. A pretty one but a brat nonetheless. He didn't take things like that. He reassures himself under his breath, but his thoughts know what he's really thinking about: sliding those wet bikini bottoms off you and spreading your legs. It would be all for him, too. You did approach him first.
You, however, collect your things in a huff. Your move to the other end of the pool may have been petty, but you don't care. Things had to be thought through. Was it worth actually pursuing this sexy asshole guy? As you type a pro-con list into your phone, Ryoka pats your shoulder, "Are you planning on missing the game for your phone?"
The exercise will do you some good. After squeezing your friend's hand and promising to return after you change, you opt to release your frustrations on a good game of volleyball.
After a bit, it's even hotter and you've only gotten sexier. It's important to note as Bakugou stares at you from the sidelines. Sure, you were prissy, but your body was killer, and the snarl escaping you every time you spiked the ball sent wrecking balls of fantasy into his mind. You were a spitfire, and Bakugou tries to swallow the flush when you look at him in an intense adrenaline haze.
A block. A quick run to the side for a spike. Light cheering. This was the sweet escape you needed, giving you just enough space to let out your blood thirst. If you had fangs, then you'd be chomping at everyone's face! You were in the groove. Your eyes pass over him easily. And then you meet again.
Parted, pink lips with beads of sweat on your upper lip. Your hair falls messily, framing your face with sticky strands as your dark eyes pierce Bakugou's. For a minute, neither of you seems to exist in this reality. You both stay in this limbo for a second longer than you should before your head snaps forward to bump an incoming ball. Bakugou’s frozen to the core with genuine butterflies in his stomach. He doesn't even think this has ever happened to him before, or even that it ever would.
A whistle is blown, and you’re cheering with your team. It always felt good to win. It was even better when you knew you had eyes on you.
"Good game, good game! Yeah, you did amazing, Ayami…" You towel off as you relish in the glow of your success. It wasn't all due to you, but you were being a bit of a try-hard.
You don't even notice how Bakugou makes his way through the crowd. How his lips curl into a frown as someone bumps into him, and how he taps your shoulder with a gruff, "Hey."
Your head turns with hair that cracks like a whip. Obviously, you recognize him immediately. You're not happy.
"Hey," you mutter, toweling off and ready to escape. "Nice seeing you."
"Wait a minute," Bakugou's hand curls around your wrist, and you're so irritated to feel heat rush through you at seeing the sinewy muscle move. "Lemme talk to you."
"I gotta get in the shower. So, no."
"You're being stubborn. I'm sorry for earlier," he huffs with eyes that lack the confidence to look straight at you. "Let me buy you a soda or somethin'."
"What makes you think I want a soda from you, an extra?"
He almost wants to shout in your face, but he knows there's no way around that. Bakugou mumbles about not meaning it while kicking at the ground, and your posture stays stiff. It happens so quickly you almost miss it, but you catch a glimpse of a smile on his lips.
"What's so funny?! You're a real jerk, laughing and everything when you insulted me and–"
"You're all defensive at being called an extra. It's cute."
"I have a name," you nearly stomp your foot in exasperation despite the flush crawling up your skin.
"I forgot. You stuttered it out last time," he provokes calmly with a tilt of his head. Really, he just wants to hear that pretty name on your lips again.
You try to tell yourself that there's no time to think about the compliment that flies and waves in the air like a kite. You introduce yourself calmly, emphasizing the syllables and ensuring he gets it.
Bakugou repeats your name so slowly. So pointedly, velvety tongue and eyes narrowing. You could imagine him whispering it into your neck as strong hips hump to meet yours. Maybe in the morning, with a kiss on the cheek and the taste of coffee on your tongue. He puts so much care into repeating your name that you almost cave when he asks if you want to get smoothies together.
You're a strong, independent woman. That and, well, his pissed-off face was sexy. Your glossy lips smirk at him as you cock your hip, "Sorry, I'm getting drinks with friends. I'll catch you later, though, yeah?"
"...Alright, yeah."
The way you ditch him in the dust leaves him half-chubbed in his shorts. God, you were such a cock tease. If only he could kiss you and show you what you're missing out on by playing cat and mouse. Thick fingers adjust his shorts, and Bakugou pushes his hair back, opting to turn back to his friends indulging in flower necklaces and drunk karaoke.
If you wanted to be the mouse, he had no problem being the cat.
Everything's clear-headed and far too boring and bright. Within time and the coaxing with your friends; you're grinning ear to ear after too many puffs of a joint and sips of cocktails. Things tilt around you, and the music sounds irresistible as you feel the rhythm lend you dance moves. Everything feels like ecstasy as you twirl in circles with your crew. The alcohol was flowing, and you were starting to have that craving for closeness as things ramped up and up.
Natsumi practically topples you over as she blushes into your face. "Come with me. I made some friends."
“Friends? What kinda friends?”
"Don’t ask, just go. Come on, you have to! They’re cool, you really gotta meet 'em," your friend pleads as you give her a reluctant look.
"Well, okay…"
Natsumi hiccups as she escorts you a few tables over. She giggles about someone being your type, and there's a real worry that the alcohol is clouding her mind, and you’re about to have to reject a loser.
"Hey, Natsumi! I was wondering where you went!"
A yellow-toned boy speaks up, face flushed as he waves a sloppy hand from where he rests on a beachy pull-out. Next to him, Bakugou nurses a rum and coke, eyes red and cast downward towards the ground. They lazily crawl a path up to your eyes, a bit woozy but flickering with recognition.
No fucking way. Of course, he's here, and of course, he looks fantastic! You know your dress looks immaculate. There was no denying that, but Bakugou left your mouth embarrassingly dry. His white button-up was nice, but it was more about what it revealed; tanned skin and the promise of more the further you looked. As you looked down at his body, Bakugou looked up at yours.
As you sit down, you can't help but open your mouth, "What are you doing here?"
"My friends dragged me out, I could be sleeping by now."
You find yourself letting out a small laugh and turning toward him with interest. He really wasn't so bad.
“You sleep early?”
“You don’t?”
Amid it all, Bakugou and you end up squished together as the budding love story of your two friends blossoms. Every time their heated make out spills into limbs crossing over into your bubble, you grunt in frustration, inevitably scooting closer to your frenemy with a slight sway.
"She is so ridiculous," you comment on Natsumi with a slight huff. "So is your friend, by the way."
"Maybe they're made for each other," he snorts.
A beat of silence passes by as you both observe each-other. It was really more like admiring, though.
"Why're you so standoffish? I said I was sorry, called you pretty, ‘nd you don't wanna give me another chance?"
He grumbles when he says it but looks curious as his teeth sink into his lip for a split second. You almost get lost in the motion as you unconsciously lean closer like a moth to a flame.
"I didn't peg you as someone who begged."
"Sometimes you make mistakes, hm? And I'm not begging, babe, trust me."
The conversation dies, but the tension grows larger. The way his voice dropped made your thighs squeeze together. Blood flowed south as Bakugou traced over your red lips and briefly down to your cleavage–nice, he smirked.
"Well, whatever," you pray the sip of your lychee martini gives you a long enough reprieve to think of how to coyly flirt back. "What are you doing here anyway? Vacationing? Dying of an illness and this is your last hoorah?"
"Just relaxing. What're you doing besides bein' a brat. Spending daddy's money?"
"I paid for this trip myself, actually!"
"I like a smart woman," he says, moving to brush his thumb lightly against your cheek. He pulls away just as fast, and you can smell the breeze of his icy cologne. "I paid for myself, too. Can't rely on anyone or anything!"
You see the mask slip just a second. The calm persona dropped to reveal his boyish grin and messy hair.
"Yeah, you really can't."
It was so terrible that you knew deep down he was cute. You couldn't pretend at all. Now that you're starting to know him, you're falling head first into really liking him. You weren't sure if your girls' trip vacation could withstand a passionate, whirlwind romance.
"Oh my god, you know what would be totally fucking fun right now? What if we played a game? You guys know spin the bottle! C'mon," Natsumi beams excitedly.
"I haven't done that since I was still smoking cigarettes!" Ryoka shakes her head with a laugh.
"But, come on," she gives you all a pleading look. "If we haven't done it in forever, wouldn't it be fun to do it one last time?"
Natsumi's heartfelt yet drunken rambles strike a chord within all of you. You glance at Bakugou, who doesn't reply, only shrugging in acquiescence to the group. To hell with it, you call, raising your drink in the air.
"You know what, let's go for it! You're right, Natsumi."
Bakugou eyes you curiously as you stand to hug your friend with a slight wobble in your step. You had a point. To hell with it!
Moments later, you all were knee-rubbing, stumbling idiots sitting in a circle. The more you admire Bakugou as you sit across from him, the more you're hoping the stars align with the spin of the bottle. The kiss would be innocent. Fun and games. It meant nothing. That's what you told yourself to repent for your future sins.
A bead of sweat glides down the back of your neck as the glass goes round and round. You watch as Natsumi eagerly kisses a flushed Kaminari, who is all too eager to receive it. Ryoka and Ayami are familiar but sweet. Kirishima lands a peck on you, but it's nothing crazy.
You miss the way Bakugou's eyes glitter with disappointment every time the green bottle spun past him mockingly, taunting him deviously with the promise of vodka-tinged kisses. Only then do you both find a line drawn between point A, you, and point B, him.
"Finally," Ryoka slurs out.
Suddenly, you're nervous. You're nervous as you sit up a bit more and scoot closer over the bottle containing the will of fate. He looks calm and relaxed, his eyelids lowered just enough to make him look… wanting. Knees graze the carpet as you inch closer until you both can feel each other's breath.
The music is still bumping. The alcohol is still flowing, yet you're stuck in this standstill with nothing to break you out of your reverie. Other than the kiss that's planted on your lips, Bakugou tastes like rum and mint gum. You wonder if you taste like lychee, or maybe you'll mix into an entirely new flavor that leaves you both with incessant cravings.
You're unsure when or who pulls away first, but it happens. Your butt plops down right as the round of giggles surrounds you. Bakugou smirked as he sat back, crossing his legs and taking a smug swig of his drink. It was unfair that you were left dazed; he was the reason for it all.
You okay? He mouths over the talking that's come instead of the next bottle spin.
Are you? You ask with a smirk, flipping your hair in jest.
Bakugou rolls his eyes, shaking his head with a full-on grin. You feel something fond bloom in your chest. Something that makes the sound of ringing bells when you see that flash of teeth and a glimpse of a slick tongue. Someone suggests dancing, and pairs of legs come into view as they stumble out as a crew, a unit. There are two missing cogs. You both stay sitting and facing each other.
"I thought you said you were okay," he jokes as he scoots closer.
You realize you have a tendency to mimic him, "I am. You're the one who didn't even try to pretend to follow."
"I don't pretend anything, pretty. I do and say what I mean."
There's a beat of silence, and your clit throbs at the tone of his voice.
"You know what I mean?"
His voice is deep, almost mocking, as he croons at you. You're going to fuck. It might be now, on the last day of your resort, but it would happen. Set in stone, if you will.
"I think I do."
"Mhm. Let's go dance, gotta show you what a real dancer looks like."
Bakugou offers a firm hand and pulls you up like you weigh nothing. It makes you feel tiny, and you wonder if the same effect will happen as you sway your hips against his dick.
You find yourself dancing to Nelly, and hearing lulls about being a promiscuous girl. It makes satisfaction thrum in your chest at having success in your findings. Grinding did, indeed, produce the same effect. Bakugou was trying to dominate your form, and you let it happen.
Bit by bit, you find yourself caring less about the group and becoming more preoccupied with Bakugou. You let him buy you drinks, giggling as your hands jokingly interlace before you pull away coyly. He only smirks at you, chasing you wherever you go, as if he didn't want you to forget him in your intoxicated parade.
He tells you to call him Katsuki when you slur his last name out, gripping the white button as you pout tiredly, "I want to go back to my room."
"Since when am I your keeper, huh?"
Katsuki lays a steady hand on the curve of your waist and lets you fall into him.
"Don't be mean, we bonded sooo much. I thought you were this asshole guy, but you're actually kinda funny and sexy."
"I think I knew that last part. Remember when you tried this on me before?"
"Are you dumb enough to still reject me?"
"Nah, not this time," he says, making sure to drink in your gaze as he does.
Thankfully, you'd already had your first kiss. That made it easier for him to lean forward and press his lips against yours. The promise of something more, and you practically purred as you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders. Katsuki's hands skirt down your back, down to your hips, and pull you so close, "You're sexy, too."
A bartender squawks at your behavior, and his voice floats over the music and sticky kisses to yell for you to get a room! The man at your side noses your neck and then juts forward.
"Come to my room," and he's so gruff. Like he knows you want this, "Wanna get you alone and see how feisty you are then."
You tug your bottom lip between your teeth. Surely, your friends would be fine; your eyes flit between him and the crowd dancing behind him. Yeah, they'd be alright. Your hand slips into his, and he's quick to tug you next to him by your waist. He makes you unsteady and chuckles, "Let's get goin', then."
Neither of you is composed as you tumble through Katsuki's–clearly luxurious–room onto his plush bed. He's not afraid to lift you with his raw strength and place you right where he wants you. It makes you laugh, tinged with shyness, as his red predatory eyes sweep over you before settling on your face.
It's silent as both eyes hold this deep, wanting gaze. He crawls closer, and you lay back further; he's on top of you with a forearm dipping into the mattress and a veiny hand supporting his weight. Katsuki doesn't touch you as if he's waiting for something. You can't wait anymore, and you're ungracefully yanking him closer till his body weight rests on you, and you can feel his hardness poking at your thigh.
He must have been waiting on you–the bastard! But you can't deny that feeling the rippling strength resting on your body and pressing you into the mattress feels good. You and Katsuki exchange saccharine kisses as your bodies grind together like you're one. He grits his teeth and takes a sharp inhale when your wandering hand brushes against his bulge, "don't, fuck, don't do that."
"Why? Sensitive?"
Katsuki's vermilion eyes meet yours and narrow, "you're such a tease, you know?"
His voice is low and honeyed as he slowly peels your skirt from your thick thighs.
"All I did was ignore you the first time–"
"And then I did the second!"
Seemingly having had enough of your quips, a hush falls over you when his hand swats at your thigh, "Yeah, and you're still under me, begging for my cock. Ironic, right?"
He then snickers when sticky strings stretch from your slick pussy to the cotton underwear.
"She's beggin' too."
In a flash, he's lapping at your folds and groaning at how sweet you taste.
"Oh! Oh my god, w-wait!"
“Nuh-uh, no waiting.”
He's so messy with it. His chiseled nose bumps against your clit with every lap as he mixes spit with your leaking arousal; it's so debauched, and yet you're wailing for more as you try to push his face further between your thighs. Katsuki groans and your eyes meet right when he suckles your clit with his plush, rosy lips.
"Y-Your mouth's so good, ohfuck!"
Katsuki lets out a pleased hum before wrangling your squirming hips under a flexing forearm, "don' move too much. Wanna enjoy this, babe."
His right hand comes up to toy with your soaked hole. His teeth are sharp, and he's downright predatory in how he sinks two fingers into you. They're thicker than yours; a keening whimper escapes you.
"C'mon, tell me how it feels. Since you've been dyin' for it, I want a review, baby."
There's a wet clicking sound as fingers crook against that deliciously torturous spot, leaving stars bursting behind your eyelids.
“Gonna cum! Wanna cum, ‘mygod, ‘tsukiii!”
"Already? Such a needy girl," and he latches his tongue to your puffy clit, massaging it as your pleasure uncoils into a white-hot explosion.
Somewhere in the haze, you can hear Katsuki murmuring, "Good girl, good girl," and leaving sharp kisses on your inner thighs. He chuckles at how you jump, how cute, and sighs into your neck before biting your pulse point.
"Holy fuck," you mumble, hands wringing into his shirt as he peels off his shirt and makes his way up yours.
"You alright? Looked like things were good," and he has the nerve to snicker at you. "It's okay to admit it."
"You're such a cocky bastard. When are you gonna fuck me?"
Katsuki's hands are practically already in his pants as he unbuckles his belt. He shoves his jeans down, and your eyes widen at how big he looks, the fat head leaving a dark patch of pre-cum against his gray boxers. You're coming closer as he tugs off his underwear, leaving him exposed. His cock bobs, smearing on his navel, while a throaty groan escapes his lips once you wrap a soft hand around him. He's so hot and weighty in your hand that you can feel how he practically pulses in your hand; you can't help but want to go in for a little taste…
He's gentle as thick fingers press back on the crown of your head, a tut escaping his lips as he shakes his head, "No way. I'll cum way too fast, wanna give it to you good."
The scratchiness of his voice leaves your thighs pressing together. Katsuki kisses you before motioning for you to settle on your hands and knees.
"Like this?"
You're practically mewling at him! Your back arches so tauntingly, cute butt perked up in the air and swaying back and forth. Katsuki draws close, and your eyelids are fluttering when his fat head bumps against your soaked folds, "ohfuck, stop admiring me already."
"And here I thought you wanted it all nice and sweet," and you're whimpering as the head barely breaches past your pussy. "But, I'll give it to ya' how you like it."
With that, his hands are smoothing over the curve of your back as his heavy balls press against your pussy clit. You're already caving for him, with eyes threatening to roll towards the ceiling as his hips stick to yours. He's so full inside you that you can barely move, barely breathe, only able to leak around him as he grunts, "so fuckin' tight. 'S like you're a virgin."
"Katsukiii. Fuck, pleasepleaseplease move!"
He hums thoughtfully, hips rocking just the slightest inside your gummy walls.
"Ask me again," and he punctures it with a thrust that leaves you breathless.
"Please, wanna feel you fuck me. I-I've been waiting for your annoying ass, I wanna cum so bad…"
The man behind you doesn't seem convinced, though his hips move just a tad faster. " C'mon. I know you can do it. What is it you want again?"
He's pushing you to your breaking point. Katsuki's strong enough that he can press forward and bend you further into that delicious arch, nearly fucking you into the mattress if he would just move!
"Oh god, fuck me. Need to feel you take control, Katsuki, I-I can't! I need you, need you so bad, 'm gonna cry. I jus' wanna feel you breed me, please!?"
"Was that so hard?"
Within seconds, he's hunkering down and fucking you within an inch of your life. Your hands desperately cling to the duvet as if that'll ground you, but he's moving too hard and fast!
"S-So deep, ohshit!"
"Ngh, yeah? You're fucking grippin' me, I love how you sound, how you taste, how you feel–fuuuuck. Let me have it, baby."
You're wailing as you gush around him. The smell of sex is overpowering, and your panting breaths mingle with Katsuki's. You can't help but push back just a bit, the two of you joined together so intimately. His muscles ripple with every rock into your cunt. You wish you could see how debauched he looks–though your ears are privy to the hot groans and curses flying out of him as he slides home over and over and over again.
Katsuki loses himself in your pussy, head tipping back to expose the expanse of his throat as his balls tighten with his orgasm. God, fuck, did you say to breed you? He tries to recover as he watches your sneaky hand desperately rub you till you're trying to run from his thrusts (to which he only tuts and brings you back full force towards him). The slick, papping sounds echo, and you're not even sure what you're saying as you wail for him.
"Oh, 'm gonna cum all over you. Ohfuckfuckfuck, wait! I-I'm gonna, Katsuki!"
"Yeah? Cum all over this dick, let me feel it. Fuck, 'm gonna cum too, gonna fill you up."
Your wrist twists another tight circle, and you're falling apart. Your thighs shake and tight walls squeeze Katsuki, trying to draw him as deep as possible as he hits your g-spot dead on. A cry escapes you, and you know his base is creamy from your orgasm. In the haze, you can tell he's close by how his fingers twitch around your hips; you start mewling weakly for him, "cum inside me. Ohmygod!!”
He's sure he's leaving bruises, and yet he doesn't even care as he shoots rope after rope inside you. God, your pussy sucks him in like it wants every drop; despite the sensitivity, Katsuki can't help but keep moving till you're whining from overstimulation. Pulling out slowly and giving your thigh a playful swat, the two of you practically collapse into the soft sheets.
Katsuki's hand quickly grabs your chin and pulls you to face him. " Are you good?"
With your hair mussed and bruises littering your body, you were more than good. A soft nod, and then you're scooting closer for warmth. Katsuki lets it happen to your joy, a strong arm wrapping around your waist as he hoists you close.
"Good, you gonna run off of me, now?"
"No. Are you?"
"It's my room, you stalker," he teases with a toothy grin. His features are relaxed, and his red eyes are a bit glazed.
He looks wonderful. Beautiful, even.
—
You review your mental checklist one last time as you pace about your room, door open. How could it have all ended so soon? You'd spent the rest of your days happily fucking, drinking, and soaking in the luxuries of the resort.
Katsuki lingers by the doorway. A flicker of fondness grows into a fire when you turn to see him and smile. When did he get so soft?
"Hey! What's up?"
"What's up? It's your last day, and you're what's upping me."
"Katsukiii," you drag out the syllables and catch the faintest smirk on his lips. "Don't get too sad while I'm gone."
"Please," he scoffs and rolls his eyes, the two of you making eye contact that holds longer than it should.
The two of you shouldn't be so dramatic; you should try to steel yourself. It's not like you've known each other for that long, Katsuki thinks before reaching out and pulling you into a loose hug.
"See ya," he grumbles.
"Hehe, text me! Call me whenever," you mumble into the muscle of his chest.
He smells like the start of a campfire, mixed with a cool cologne that wafts like the breeze of a nearby ocean. You pull away and look into the tides of his eyes, the Red Sea staring back at you, before he gently kisses your lips.
"I'll think about it. For now, I'll walk you out," and he wraps a possessive arm around your waist.
There was no other option; he was walking you out. You squawk at his comment, "That is not an 'I'll think about it' statement!"
"Oh, yeah? Well, lemme think on it."
"Stop it!"
156 notes
·
View notes
Snapshots of Desire (a Chemical Override minishot)
Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader
a/n: unanticipated yet again, and you all have this anon to thank!
series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist
Ewan finds himself in the throes of desire. For better or worse, it will always be you.
August (after the nocturnal file, and before part five)
That dream was driving him insane.
He had awoken in the wee hours of the morning, the sun not having yet risen, and succumbed to his depravities. There was no way he was going back to sleep after that.
At least he was having an early head start. He jumped in the shower right away, because he was restless, but mostly due to the fact that he had to clean himself up.
He had been covered in his desire for you, so to speak, his seed coating the surface of his lower stomach. He felt shame - what would you think if you saw him like that? Would you turn away in disgust?
Or would you watch?
You would purr, Whatcha got there, baby?
He would reply, I'm all ready for you, darling.
Would you use your soft, delicate fingers to pleasure him? They would look so pretty, squeezed around his...
Fuck. He was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, a towel haphazardly wrapped around his waist, thinking that maybe he needed to jump back in for another cold shower.
He took a deep breath, a piss poor attempt to quiet his thoughts. You still flooded his mind no matter how he tried to spin things.
For fuck's sake, he hasn't even kissed you yet, and you were already the one and only object of his lust.
Only two days, and then he will see you again.
Only two days. Damn it, he needed to get a grip.
December (during the 'chemistry read' in part six)
He knew it was you before he even turned your way. He didn't know why exactly. Maybe it was the particular swing in your step, the smell of your perfume, the shape of your body which he recognised even from the periphery.
This was a set up. His heart was lodged right in his throat, his mind going awry. He had not seen you since that night, and craved you so badly.
He often thought about it - what he would say when he sees you again. If he could even say anything. He was supposed to feel cold, wasn't he? It wouldn't be right for him to want you back.
You sat next to him. Well, at the farthest end of the couch.
He gave you a cursory glance. You looked nervous, your hands fiddling with the script pages on your lap.
Still so fucking beautiful. How could you not be?
"They're all in on it," he blurted out. That's it? That's the best you can do?
She's not everything. Not anymore.
Your responses were cautious, almost shy, as if you didn't want to annoy him. He realised how unpleasant he must be acting when you even offered to leave for his sake.
Please don't go, darling. He started to reach for you, but caught himself at the last moment. "Stay."
Stay forever.
January (just before part seven)
Ewan was grateful for the holiday season. Time spent with family. Time off from work. Time to regroup and hone his craft for his upcoming projects.
Time to be with you. When his family questioned why he wanted to head back to London so soon after Christmas, he told them he had work commitments.
Your arrangement had started just before he went back to Derby, and it was all he could think about since then.
It was unfair to you, and it was wrong. But you felt so right against him, beside him, underneath him. You felt so fucking good all the time.
He always left afterward, right when he sensed himself growing weak and those three words were at risk of spilling out of him.
Would they even mean anything to you? He can't let you win. Not this time.
When you would reach for him after sex, searching for comfort in his eyes, he would turn away and pretend not to notice.
Once, you rolled onto your side away from him, your body unmoving except for the slight, occasional trembling of your shoulders. Ewan could swear you were crying. Because of everything.
Because of him, and what he demanded from you.
Suddenly, he felt like breaking. Breaking everything in sight. Travelling back in time to that meeting in New York and breaking Bruce's fucking jaw. Breaking down and pulling you snug in his arms. He wanted to whisper sweetly in your ear, I'm sorry, darling. I'm sorry. I love you.
He stood from the bed, going through the motions of putting his clothes back on, each one like the lash of a whip. Don't leave, you idiot. Hold her.
"I have to go," he said, the words mechanical and meaningless. It was always that.
I'll call you.
This was great.
Sorry, but I have to be somewhere.
He felt hollow. If he had a heart, it was no longer in his chest, with how cruel he felt he was being.
If he still had a heart, he was leaving it with you.
March (the club scene in part ten)
Jenna held on to his arm as they walked the red carpet outside the nightclub. When the photographers had gotten their fill and they were finally cloaked in the shadows of the venue, she went off to find her friends.
She understood the arrangement, and played her part well. Ewan liked that she seemed just as irked with the whole thing. That she didn't expect more from him.
That she didn't expect anything real.
Ewan went through the motions, wading through the crowd and introducing himself to people whom he has only seen onscreen before. The elegant masks blurred together, none of them holding his interest for long. His mind was elsewhere, tethered to the entrance, waiting for you to arrive.
And then, there you were. His darling.
Ewan's breath caught in his throat. Your gown hugged your body in a way that made his pulse quicken. Your hair done up to perfection. Your smile was confident, your movements graceful.
You hadn't seen him yet.
You were the only one in the room, the only one who mattered.
When you approached him, he felt elated. You were taking time off. You both needed to figure things out. You couldn't be seen together. It just wouldn't work.
But there you were, seemingly drawn to him as he was to you. Walking towards him like a glowing mirage.
When you kissed him, he couldn't get enough. It didn't matter how many times you touched him or how often - it would never get old. He would always need more. His fingers would dig in the flesh of your hips, and he would crumble. Your tongue would slip past his lips, melding with his own, and he would cling to you like a vice.
He was an addict, and you were the substance.
Your dress was so fucking tight, it left little to the imagination, clinging to every dip and curve.
How easy it would be to lose control. To push you against the wall, lift the hem of your dress, and claim you in the shadows, away from the eyes of the masquerade.
No one would notice. No one would care.
The temptation was unbearable, your body practically begging for him to abandon his inhibitions.
But he couldn't, could he? Not there.
He almost felt like screaming when you were interrupted, even in the supposed privacy of the smoking room.
When he finally has you again, there will be no holding back.
Addicts need their fix, just as bodies crave warmth. Just as hearts thrive off of love.
Just as Ewan desires you.
133 notes
·
View notes