Latest Posts by katscki - Page 4

be nice to people >:(

i need some raunchy smut

playing a combat video game on Katsuki’s lap, him teaching you every thing he can. Whispering in your ear which buttons to press and a raspy little “atta girl” when you win the match. 🦋🦋🦋

i love you guys 💜

oh god.

Bakugou calling you princess at any given opportunity just to make your heart melt a little and make you squirm while you wait for him to growl the pet name in your ear while he fucks you good and hard.

katsuki bakugo is pussy drunk.

oh i can just imagine, him holding your frame with his calloused hands as you squirm with each lick of his warm tongue. he’s getting quite annoyed with you; slapping your thigh each time you move.

“fuck, stay still,” he groaned, mouth hovering over your pussy. from the way he looked, you would’ve thought he hated this; but it was really quite the opposite. he was getting drunk on your pussy, relishing the way you squirmed.

his tongue made rounds on your clit, earning wanton moans from your pretty lips. he nipped and sucked as if he was starved, eventually putting his tongue in your hole, nearly cumming at the taste.

“fuck… fuck, ‘suki!” your hands latched onto his hair, legs closing in his perfect face. the sounds of his moans were muffled as he tightens his grip on your thighs, tongue lapping at your clit faster than before. “gon’… gon’ c-cum, ‘suki!” your breath hitched as you moaned out your words, legs shaking violently. katsuki gave your pussy a few more licks before pushing himself up to immediately kiss you.

“taste ‘s good, pretty girl.. gon’ do it again, but on my cock.”

NSFW!!

Bakugou adores making sweet love to you right after you walk out of the shower.

It usually comes after an extensive and raw session where he’d fucked you into heaven and back. But when you step out of the bathroom all wrapped up in towels, smile, eyes, and skin glistening with the afterglow of his ministrations, he becomes weak. There’s nothing he wants at that moment more than to just completely melt against you.

He pounces on you as you select what to wear, this time with a series of much more balmy and mellow kisses, bites, caresses, and squeezes.

“Sukiiiii~ I literally just showered.”

Laced in your whiny protests is that hint he knows all too well, the one that tells him he shouldn’t stop and that you love what’s about to ensue just as much as he does.

Towels trail your way to the bed where he delicately lays you down, marveling at your splendor with his fiery gaze before appreciating every part all over again with his tongue and touch.

And then, you become one again. So intimate and close—literally breathing each other’s air and swallowing each other’s gasps. Fingers slotted together and pressed down on the mattress as his pelvis gyrates deep into you, your legs wrap around him to bring him even closer, if that is even possible. He takes his sweet time, lazy and sloppy make-outs and playful nuzzles filling the spaces between your syrupy moans and groans as he ensures an eternity elapses in every roll of his hips against your own because he wants to stay in that moment forever.

He dominates you into oblivion more often than not—it’s your go-to mode when you’re craving one another—and you both live for it, but damn does this simply hit differently. It hits so much harder. In every sense of the word. And especially with him; someone whose very essence is in contrast with anything soft and deliberate, someone that’s so easy to assume doesn’t possess a tender side and isn’t into such sweet, gentle lovemaking. But he is; it’s his way of pouring his all into you, letting you know that he can be the opposite of everything you’ve miraculously fallen for. His way of expressing how much he appreciates you, for everything that you are and that you bring to his life, for every small eternity your joined bodies drag out and your souls get lost in.

Hey i have a request for Bakugou..🤭

LIKE imagine sitting on his Lap and he’s like

„ i can feel u throbbing „

btw rlly like your writings

Hot. Why does every guy I write about kinda end up being an asshole har har

I don’t have time to read this back, but hopefully there’s no mistakes *smiles awkwardly*

Thankyou btw! <3

/-/-/-/

It's been at least an hour since your boyfriend Bakugo returned home early from patrolling the city, maybe even longer. You don't know, being this horny makes it kinda difficult to keep track of time.

You're currently being bounced on your shirtless hero's thigh whilst he fills in a few bits of paperwork, built muscles flexing underneath your weight. He has a bare arm snaked around your waist to keep you steady as he moves around on the couch, and you can feel his hard abs tensing against your back each time he leans forward to retrieve another sheet of paper from the coffee table in front of you.

You'd been looking forward to having your man back from his exhausting job a few hours earlier since it makes cleaning, cooking and whatnot much easier compared to when doing it alone. Although, you had made sure to complete your daily chores before he came home today anyway, solely due to the fact that you'd been unbearably aroused since he left this morning. You'd already made yourself cum twice to the thought of him but, clearly, nothing you can do is good enough.

You're sure he can tell how you're feeling right now! You definitely saw him try to hide a smirk when he came home to you in just a shirt and panties!

You can see that he's tired of working without being able to look at his face, the sighs that blow past his lips every so often giving him away. He also never finished removing his work clothes.

"Finished yetttt?" you drawl out slowly, wiggling along the bottoms of his hero costume to reposition yourself and unintentionally nudging your clit upon his leg, the sudden tingle of pleasure making you hurriedly cover a whimper with a forced sniff.

Sighing, Bakugo answers to your childish whining, "Just gotta fill this last one out... n' then put my signature on that one, I think."

"Can't that one wait?"

Yes, you know it's rather selfish. You should be letting him concentrate, but...!

You lean back on his warm shoulder, your head fitting perfectly in the crook of his neck. Glancing up, you admire his side profile and the way his reading glasses rest upon the bridge of his nose. You'd always thought he looked hot with them on. Maybe he would place them on his head to keep his wild hair pushed back as he goes down on you... Or maybe he'd keep them on, until your juices squirting all over the lenses becomes too much so that he can't see clearly?

Wow, you are not doing yourself any favours.

Steamy thoughts cause your body temperature to rise, voice wobbly when you beg once again, "C'monnnn, you hardly ever get home this early. I always get lonely when you're not here with me, sitting here by myself after doing housework and stuff..."

The vivid thought of you at home, all alone, not knowing what to do with yourself for hours yanks at your boyfriend's heartstrings and it's almost paining him. Slowly, Bakugo relaxes, letting the arm around you land limply over your thighs. Still staring up at his side profile, your cute smile graces his peripheral view once he manoeuvres his head to face in your direction to show he's listening.

He closes his eyes, ballpoint pen still in hand yet not on paper, and presses his forehead into your hair so he can breathe in your homely scent. He's contemplating. A wave of pride washes over you at his behaviour, only you could ever manage to coax him out of hero work.

But that pride dulls into a certain annoyance when he reverts back to his previous position and begins to work towards completing his last form, the pen in his hand barely releasing any ink unless he presses down hard enough. He's losing motivation, just a teeny bit more persuading.

"Katsukiiiii," you extend the last sound of his name in the whiniest, most pathetic way you can whilst lifting your upper half away from him, only to force yourself down with a bratty huff. Thankfully Bakugo lifted the pen away before you made him scribble over everything with your little tantrum.

A "tch" comes from your right and you frown. Fine then, you think, proceeding to (struggle to) tug your panties down, but only until they reach the other hand he has on your upper legs. Rough, scarred fingers instantly grasp the crumpled fabric but he pays no mind.

As he writes, Bakugo moves his clutch on your underwear from the twisted hem to the noticeable wet patch between your slightly spread thighs. It's difficult to open your legs more for him with your panties constricting them to at most a mere few inches apart. You watch your boyfriend toy with the dampened cloth whilst appearing to focus on what's in front of him, repeatedly swiping a thumb across the stickiness.

"So damn impatient." he mutters grumpily as always, ignoring the abrupt exhale you release at his hand cupping your yearning cunt. Those gorgeous crimson eyes roll when you attempt circling your hips to ideally catch your pulsing clit against his bottoms, but the angle your body is positioned prevents that from happening. Though it doesn't prevent the hero from landing a clean smack on the sensitive skin of your almost hidden pussy.

"Chgh! Ow..." you grit your teeth as the initial sting subsides, finding yourself flustered with desperate tears clouding your vision. Why does he have to be so mean! What's worse is that he hasn't even showed any satisfaction yet, continuing with his stupid forms or whatever like he's being forced to tease you so brutally.

Like nothing ever happened, he returns one thick middle finger to your aching bud, only to discover that your sweet slick has amounted to so much that he can hardly keep it in one place without slipping.

Bakugo's tone of voice is relatively normal as he states, "Fucking hell, I spanked you once and you're drenched,"

You mewl lightly, his touch doing the bare minimum, gliding up and down your entrance so easily, embarrassingly easy.

Wait, he's put the pen down. Where has his other hand gone?

You hadn't realised his mouth was closing in on your ear until a sharp nibble to it makes you freeze up. A gruff whisper unleashes a tsunami of shivers to race down your spine.

"You miss me that much when I'm gone, huh?"

It sounds like a teasing question, but you know it's more than that. A 'condescending demand' is more of a fitting term. That other hand of his that sneakily coiled around your throat just now is a more than enough sign for you tell the difference. It squeezes lightly, as your hero relentlessly flicks his finger over your puffy clit. Your trembling hand rapidly covers your mouth, the odd yet familiar fear of reaching your first orgasm of the moment filling your body with sparking adrenaline.

You're wailing into your palm, fidgeting in his lap due to the overstimulation and frustration at the panties stopping your legs from opening further, drinking in his words and the breathy moans escaping him because of your own delicious little whimpers.

" 'miss me so much that you just can't help yourself, ah? So much that you go outta your way to distract me from my work?" and with that said, he stops tormenting your cunt to shove three of his digits between your sloppy folds just to press them harshly over your clenching hole.

For the first time in what seems like forever, you finally take a deep, albeit shaky, breath through your nose. Your entire body twitches uncontrollably, you were so close.

"Answer my damn question, brat."

Jeez, you picked a bad day to annoy him. Who pissed in his cereal this morning?

The growing angry rumble in his voice causes you to panic and whine into your fingers like you're incapable of talking. The grip from around your neck disappears, then returns around your wrist this time, tearing it away from your plumped lips with a thin string of drool attached.

His sudden act of power evokes pleading words from you, weak voice breaking with a, "Ka-Katsuki, I jus' wanna play--"

"Answer the question. You're not stupid," he pauses for a second before circling your entrance with some pressure. You gasp at a painful sensation blooming across your cheek, realising the hot skin is being pinched with his teeth.

"I can feel you throbbing. You can't hide it, how your tight little hole begs for me. Just say it, baby. Me, you and your needy fuckin' body all know the answer."

His fingers are almost inside you and his huge palm is pressed up on your burning clit. Bakugo nuzzles into the crook of your neck, ghosting his lips along the salty skin.

"Do yourself a favour, for god's sakes." he muffles into your shoulder whilst taking a handful of your plush hips and kneading harder than ever.

"...Yes, yes-- I miss you that bad, Katsuki. I always miss you so so bad, it hurts,"

Your man chuckles lowly at you, decides to pull you further into him so that your ass grinds on his restrained, jolting cock. Your heart flutters at the sound of his laugh, even if it is mocking you. Your lusty eyes are forced to make contact with his, reading glasses pushing back his fringe just as you'd imagined. Then, he lovingly kisses the bite mark donning your face.

"Finally, s'all you had to do. Now, stop pissin' me off and bounce on it." he orders, effortlessly lifting you up by your underarms to buck his hips as he slams you down.

/-/-/-/

Good girl

Head empty, just thinking about huge dick, soft boi Katuski, and how he’s carving his way inside of your tight cunt with firm but gentle strokes. His hand is around your throat, the only thing keeping you grounded, because you feel like you’re floating in a pool of ecstasy, a blissful fog muddling your mind, and the only thing you can hold on to is him, or else you’ll drift away. Your voice is cracked, having screamed out your last release, yet he persists, and each time he brings you closer to another, he purrs so softly in your ear, “you gonna cum f’me?” and in your lusty haze all you can do is grip his thick wrist in your tiny hands to ground yourself, back arching off the bed at his words, and you do… you do cum for him, crying out, with fat tears clinging to your lashes, and he slows his thrusts; massaging your fluttering, gooey walls with his thick cock. He curls himself over you, hand still gripped so gently around your delicate throat, and he kisses you. The kiss is slow and erotic, and possessive, and when he pulls away you see vermillion eyes, with pupils blown wide, and his raspy voice cuts through the fogginess of your euphoria, each word punctuated by the gentle roll of his hips, and as he bullies his way back inside your creamy center, “Good, fucking, girl…” 

bakugou with a girlfriend who’s always sleepy. says she’s not tired but he sees her droopy eyes and thinks it’s the cutest thing in the world, her words slurring a bit as she says “m just resting my eyes”

when he sees her start to slump a little bit, going in and out of sleep, he pulls her in and she immediately cuddled against him.

bakugou with a sleepy girlfriend please i need it.

Bakugou who cares more about your sleep schedule than you do.

You’ll be up, doing something important at your desk and he just comes in and leans over the back of your chair to pepper kisses over your shoulder and neck, gently coaxing you to bed.

Usually you go without complaint, melting into his touch and letting him lure you to sleep much earlier than you would’ve on your own.

But sometimes, all he gets is a gentle push on his face and a protest of “five minutes”.

So he obliges, sets a timer and then returns on time, only to be waved off again. But he’s not one to take no for an answer.

Next thing you know, you’re being hoisted over his shoulder, his fingers tapping your ass and scolding you for trying to stay up later than you promised.

He insists he only cares about your sleep schedule because “one of us has to be the nice one so we have friends and you, baby, are not nice when tired”

He’d never admit he just doesn’t like sleeping without you.

Henlo, it's the anon from last night. I just wanted to thank you, bc your response helped motivate me enough to write about 500 words in like 45 minutes, and I'm happy to report that I did manage to get to 1000 words eventually! So thank you so much!!🥰💕

OH MY GEE THATS SO GOOD! im very very proud of you babes!!! keep up the good work lovely 💜💜💜

bakugou with a girlfriend who’s always sleepy. says she’s not tired but he sees her droopy eyes and thinks it’s the cutest thing in the world, her words slurring a bit as she says “m just resting my eyes”

when he sees her start to slump a little bit, going in and out of sleep, he pulls her in and she immediately cuddled against him.

bakugou with a sleepy girlfriend please i need it.

Every tutoring session with boyfriend Bakugou in your rooms eventually turns into a heated make-out session to which he always puts a momentary stop to take off his glasses and toss them on the desk before he either pulls you to his lap or backs you onto the bed, not realizing just how crazy that little gesture drives you every time

ugh pretty pretty katsuki

bakugou in a sweater °ʚ(*´꒳`*)ɞ°

Its 2am and i'm struggling with an assignment that i need a 1000-word draft for by tomorrow morning 😭😭 but its fine we're vibin

you so got this, i myself am taking a break from homework (stupid congressional research) homework is awful and it’s so late but you can do it!!! Don’t pressure yourself if it’s just a draft then there’s going to be room for revision so it’s all good :)))

i love you babes keep up the good work!

Katscki’s Recs 🎀

posts that i’ve really enjoyed and think you should read too :))

(mainly for bakugou but there’s probably some iwaizumi stuff meandering in there)

Katscki’s Buddies 💗

these posts are just me talking to you guys directly asking how you are for you to message me random shit. just me trying to interact with people :))

I need everyone to message me how they’re doing right now 😡

wanna make sure everyone is okay :)

𓆩☆𓆪 collusion [iwaizumi hajime][nsfw]

☆ synopsis: you have your first time with iwaizumi

☆ warnings: college bf!iwa, mating press, pet names (he calls you ‘princess’ and other things), praise kink, dirty talk

☆ notes: i’ve written for him a whopping total of one other time so pls be nice 🫶🏾

☆ interactions and reblogs are much appreciated!

the first time you take iwaizumi, you aren’t expecting for it to be so intense.

the man currently hovers over you, his hips snug against yours with his muscular arms placed by your head as he presses his weight into you. a pillow is placed under your hips to aid you. the smell of his cologne and aftershave filters your nose and mind, making you shiver as your senses think nothing but of him. there’s nothing that can distract from this moment.

“haji, please…” you hiccup, tears brimming your doe eyes as he slowly pushes his thick cock inside of you. the burn making your legs shake. you’re not sure what you’re begging for, but you just want him to do…something.

your boyfriend coos, a smile on his face as he looks down at you. “you’re doing so well, princess, just a little more.” he praises, leaving a kiss on your temple. his emerald eyes are trained on how your cunt greedily swallows his cock. how your arousal slicks him up and makes it easier to move. to slide into you. he thinks your pretty little cunt was made just to handle him.

from all the times you had taken him in your pretty little mouth or used your hands, it’s obvious neither one of those things can compare to the feeling of your pussy. it’s so warm and inviting, he can help but admit that a small part of him just wants to be able to break you.

…but the one thing he doesn’t want to do is hurt you. that’s the last thing he ever would want to happen. his large, calloused hands hold you gently and with the utmost care. he’s already sweating a little as your vice like grip on his cock makes it hard for him to breathe.

by the time he is fully inside of you, you both groan, eye contact held as his heavy balls press into your clit.

he’s pretty—too pretty, you think, as you watch him struggle to keep composure from being inside of you. a man who isn’t shaken up by a lot is suddenly crumbling apart in your hold. pride swells in your chest from knowing you’re the one making him feel this way.

“so full…” you gasp, toes curling.

iwaizumi shudders, readjusting himself above you. “fuck, you’re so tight…” he grunts, closing his eyes for a moment.

eventually, he snaps his hips back.

“o-oh…” you squeak, nails going to dig into his tanned skin.

you’ve never seen iwaizumi nervous, but as he gauges your reactions, he looks worried.

“too much?” he asks, starting to pull away, but your small hands only tug him back, shaking your head.

“perfect haji, i want more…” you plea, your voice small as you bury your face in his shoulder.

“tell me when it’s okay to move…alright?” his other hand tilts your face up towards him so that you look at him.

your hand traces over the apple of his cheek and you move your hand to run through his hair. “i’m okay, you can move now.”

he swallows before nodding. “‘kay.”

iwaizumi doesn’t hesitate to move his hips when he sees the needy look on your face. his mind becomes filled with a primal need to fill you up.

“you feel so good…better than i imagined.” he huffs, knitting his brows together. his hand laces itself with your own and gives it a comforting squeeze.

you nod wordlessly and the look of bliss in your face may be enough to get iwa to cum. you already look so fucked out just from having his dick in you.

he’s amazed, is this what it’s really like? to make someone feel good? he’s had experience in the past before of course, but those were only flings. none of those girls meant anything to him like you do. you’re different. you’re special to him.

“you must be an angel, or else it would be a sin for someone to feel this good.” he moans—and when he moans, you swear it’s the most heavenly sound you’ve ever heard.

it must be so good, because your orgasm creeps up on you and your body convulses as your pussy clamps down on iwaizumi’s cock. he groans, mouth falling slack in awe at the way you attempt to milk him of all his glory.

“d-did you just cum?” he inquired, but by the way your eyes just rolled back and legs quiver, there was no telling otherwise. your flustered expression is so cute and he laughs before his eyes darken.

“gonna make you do it again.” he growls, before moving your legs higher up on his waist. you squeal as the breath in your lungs is nearly knocked out of you from his force.

“shouldn’t be this close to cumming, but i can’t help myself when i’m in you, i suppose.” he laughs against your neck, vibrations sending butterflies in your stomach. “you just feel so good, baby.”

“h-hajime…-jime…” you whine, nearly hiccuping at his pace and stamina.

“take it so fucking well, just look at you. it feels good, yeah? you like the way my thick cock fills you up?” he tilts his head before he’s leaning over to smash his lips against yours. you moan at his taste and nod, nails digging into his broad back. your fingers don’t hesitate to trace over his hard muscle.

“yes! feels so good, haji,” you breathe once pulling away from his lips. “always make me feel so good. you’re so handsome.” you praise, and the man feels a warm feeling bloom in his chest.

he huffs, slowing his strokes as he tries to hide his blush. “d-don’t say stuff like that…”

“‘s true.” you glare before your face brightens with an idea.

“can i ride you?” you ask, and he falters for a moment at your question.

he blinks and swallows hard. his palms getting sweaty. “i-i don’t think that—”

your eyes tear up, and your mouth moves to a pout. “please? wanna show you how handsome you are.”

knowing he can’t say no to you—especially when you look the way you do, he sighs before turns the both of you over so that you’re on top. he rolls his eyes at your beaming smile but can’t help the chuckle that leaves him.

he pinches your side, shaking his head. “stubborn little minx, this is supposed to be about you.” he moans when you slide back down on his cock. “oh, shit—”

you don’t know where to place your hands but your boyfriend grabs them before placing them on his chest.

“there you go, that’s it.” he praises as you ride him in an amateur way. but with the way his cock drags over your pussy, you only gain more confidence to make him and yourself feel good.

your rhythm is clumsy as you bounce on his lap, but with the way your breasts press against his chest and you moan freely, he can’t help the throbbing that rushes to his incredibly hard cock.

“god, you feel so good. doing so good for me.” he moans, nearly whimpering.

he helps by bouncing you in his lap, and his eyes can’t help but notice the wet mess you’re leaving behind on his thighs. your cunt, helplessly drooling on his cock as he fucks up into you causing the wet sounds between both of your to become nasty and loud.

“so handsome haji, so pretty…cock just as pretty as you, too…” you ramble, and the glazed over look in your eyes should be in a painting, because by god he doesn’t want to forget this image in front of him.

“you’re so beautiful haji.”

you’re kissing all over his chest and neck, teeth offering to mark and nip him the same way he does you. you reach his face and plant dozens of kisses on him, making him laugh in a light, uncharacteristic way.

“you’re gonna be the death of me, princess…” he sighs, breath shaking as he grips your hips, harder. his mouth moves over your bouncing breasts to suck and lick on them.

you whine again, clenching on him tighter at the euphoric feeling. the brunette is seeing stars at this point.

“fuck…i’m gonna cum…” iwaizumi hisses, his hips and pace becoming sloppy.

“please please please,” you whine, “w-wanna cum with you…”

and with how you beg for him, how can he deny you—his angel, his princess, of what you deserve?

“of course, sweetness, since you asked so nicely.” he cooed, kissing your temple. the gesture contrasts the rough nature of him flipping you back over. he moves your legs over his shoulder before sliding back into you with a driving force.

there’s no sound that comes out of your mouth and you only stare up at him in awe. his thick, calloused fingers reach between the two of you to rub at your clit.

he smirks, kissing your nose. “come on, sweetheart, need you to cum again on my cock. need to feel you milk me dry.” he coaxes.

his words send you over, and you cum hard—way harder than the first two times. iwaizumi grunts before powering through to move some more before he’s spilling thick rope after thick rope into the condom.

there’s a brief pause before iwaizumi slowly pulls out of you, apologizing and kissing your hand when you wince. he lowers your legs before his hands smooth over the muscle, massaging them tenderly.

“was that too much?” he looks over your sternly, making sure you’re not hurt.

“it was perfect. i loved it.” you hum, lacing your hands with his.

he squeezes back. “i’m..i’m glad.” he seems flustered from your comment, and it’s funny how it’s the same man who just had you folded over like a lawn chair.

after disposing the condom, he picks you up bridal style before moving you both into the bathroom. he sits you on the lid of the toilet seat before moving to start the bath.

you sit up on the seat. “you know i wasn’t just saying things in the moment. i really believe all of those things. and i know you do, too.”

his cheeks burn. “i know. i appreciate it. and i appreciate you more.” he kisses your forehead, smiling.

and maybe as long as he keeps fucking you good, he’ll hear more of your praises about him.

after all, the collusion you’ve imprinted on his heart isn’t going anywhere.

i need everyone to read this right now. so good.

most nights, katsuki will sit under the covers with his debriefing file and a blank, uninterested stare—flipping through the documents as you prance around the room getting ready for bed.

he’s seen you do this an endless amount of times, and has even been dragged into the commotion on numerous occasions—ending the night with a green face mask and a faux frown.

still, he doesn’t really get it.

of course, brushing your teeth is a given, and he won’t fuss about you washing your face—but the line has to be drawn somewhere, right?

pillow mist—the latest villain.

“babe, seriously?” he coughs, sitting up a bit as he sticks his tongue out and holds a hand over his throat. maybe, you went a little trigger happy with the black chamomile, but he’s being dramatic. “it’s in my fuckin’ mouth!”

“there’s an easy fix for that, y’know,” you smile, running your thumb and index finger across your lips in a zipping motion.

his eyes grow wide—not out of anger, or shock, but amusement. your smug comments are never ending and supremely annoying, but he fucking loves them—they’re cute. you’re cute.

he watches, tonguing at his cheek as you plop down in front of the large floor length mirror like a heathen—skincare splayed out in front of you.

you would do this in the bathroom, but you’ve been told not to by your boyfriend—who’s just looking to maximize his precious time with you, even if it means choking back the polluted air.

though he’d still argue that you are the only one who should be choking on anything while in the bedroom—not him.

“katsuki, stop that,” you laugh, catching his gaze through the reflection as your fingers run along your cheeks, working in your moisturizer.

“huh?”

stop what? existing? he’s just sitting there, hasn’t moved a muscle or opened his mouth in almost two whole minutes, and you’re telling him to stop? what the hell do you want from—

“you’re staring.”

oh, well—you’re wearing his shirt, the black long sleeve that hangs off your shoulder just a tad and drowns your hands in excess fabric. he gave you this shirt after your first night together, and while it’s no more than a piece of cotton—it’s special.

it reminds him of that morning, when you padded into the kitchen and asked what he was doing. he was making breakfast, obviously, but you insisted he come back to bed.

you were annoying, selfish—he had no more than an hour before he had to be at the agency, and you were asking him to skip the most important meal of the day to cuddle with you. unbelievable.

nevertheless, it was then that katsuki knew he was in love—with you passed out on his chest, in his shirt, just ten minutes before he had to leave.

so yes, he’s staring.

“am not,” he scoffs, keeping his eyes glued to you as you dab yet another cream onto your fingers. what the hell are you concocting over there? “i’m makin’ sure you don’t kill us with all that shit.”

if anyone were going to kill us—it would be you. the sentence pops into your head, but dies before it ever has a shot at tumbling out of your mouth.

maybe, that would’ve been something you said to the katsuki you first met years ago—but never to the one sitting in your bed right now. if you told the public what you did on that morning, you’re almost certain that half the population would be wondering how you lived to tell the tale—because no way in hell would the dynamight let that slide, right? everyone and their mother knows that his job as a pro hero is incredibly important to him.

but, not once in your relationship have you ever felt an ounce of unease, anxiety, anything, that’d make you doubt your safety for a single second—because you are more important to katsuki.

“you still with me?” he interrupts your selfish train of thought, pushing himself off the headboard to get a better look at your face. you’re a little zoned out. “fuckin’ fumes are gettin’ to you, huh?”

“i’m fine kats,” you grin, stepping back into reality as you screw the lid back onto your eye cream. you turn, sharing your smile with him.

“c’mere,” he rasps, leaning back onto his freshly scented pillow and discarding his papers onto the nightstand.

“or what?” you challenge, looking to rile him up a little before you inevitably go over there.

“you wanna find out?” he smirks, mind flooding with a tidal wave of lewd thoughts that he’s most definitely going to share with you later.

the voice in your mind screams yes, and you rise to your feet—shuffling over there in your slippers a little too eagerly, you’re sure.

you climb atop the covers and sit beside him—milliseconds away from opening your mouth to say something that would’ve gotten you into even more trouble—but he pulls you down for a kiss.

maybe he knew what was coming and saved you, or maybe this is you finding out. reason aside—he’s kissing you. slowly, his mouth moves against yours, and subtly, he tugs on the collar of your shirt—pulling you impossibly close.

“katsuki,” you sigh, running a thumb over his cheek as you lean your forehead against his. he’s pretty—strong, sharp features contrasting the softness behind his eyes. you know this look, it’s the same one he gave you that morning. gosh, how did you get so damn—

“hey,” he barks, grinning wide as he wraps a hand around your wrist. “you starin’ at me?”

「BNHA Boys with a s/o who is clingy when sleepy」

⤷ Bakugou

he would act like he was angry about it; the kind of jokingly complaining like “why are you getting clingy all of a sudden?” “what are you, a koala?” “hey, if you sleep like this, you’ll drool all over my shirt.” but as soon as you pout and walk away, he rolls his eyes and pulls you back to him, trapping you in his arms or with his body. “where do you think you’re going? get back here,” then happily he cradles you and places soft kisses on the top of your head.

⤷ Deku

he gets even more smiley and embarrassed when you start clinging to his arm as you walk back home. “sleepy?” he ruffles your hair lightly before placing a soft kiss on top of your head; and honestly his heart is melting. he offers to give you a piggy back ride so you can take a nap. “we are almost home; hang in there,”

⤷ Todoroki

he’d be a little surprised at first, especially if you’re not normally clingy or as affectionate, but he’d get used to it; if you were sleeping on the couch he would take you to bed carefully and when you refuse to let him go he tries to playfully argue with you and say he has work to do but honestly he thinks you are very cute and doesn’t have the courage to refuse, so he would bring everything he needs to work so he can do it on your side. he also likes you to pet him while he reads a book or watches something on his phone or something and looks at you adoringly with a smile or a small laugh before continuing on what he was doing before.

⤷ Denki

“awn, cuuteee-” he would say, his voice almost a scream as he hugs you and pulls you closer; he was really very quiet afterwards, just stroking you while you slept, not thinking, running his fingers down your back, drawing little patterns or letters. it would be a blissfully quiet time, just enjoying each other’s presence and warmth. then he opens his mouth to say, “hey babe, why are you so cute all the time??”

⤷ Tamaki

you are in the backseat of the car when you suddenly approach him, practically clutching his arms, almost dozing; he puts down the phone he was scrolling and looks at you, “are you sleepy?” he asks rhetorically with a chuckle, you gently tilts his head so that it rests on his shoulder, “go ahead and take a nap; i’ll wake you up when we get there,” he says and holds your hand the entire way and kisses it a few times.

⤷ Shinsou

he would be calm outside, but his heart would just melt; he’s reading in bed when you sleepily tug at his sleeve, a silent line for him to crawl under the covers and approach. he puts his arms around your shoulders as he lets you sleep; you try to move his hand to your head. he is a little confused at first, but laughs when he realizes, “like this?” he says as he strokes your hair. he looks at you with a big smile on his face as you mumble contentedly and hug his waist tighter.

⤷ Hawks

would he be a little confused at first and look at you as if to say what’s gotten into you? but in all honesty, he would be the softest being ever; he would make videos and photos of you, with his hands poking or playing with your cheeks because he thinks you are the cutest thing in the world. he would also 100% let you hold his hand and use his arm to hug. he kisses you on the forehead and chaste kisses on the lips when he thinks you’ve fallen asleep, but suddenly you open your eyes and he backs away so quickly, the blush creeping up his cheeks; and blush even more when you snuggle closer and press lazy little kisses to his cheek.

⤷ Dabi

he’s watching tv when you arrive and lazily sits on his lap, resting your cheek on his shoulder. he kind of freezes up at first because he doesn’t know what to do but relaxes right away and asks if you’ve had a tiring day. then moves to get up but stops and laughs when you hold him tighter, “i’m just taking you to bed; it’ll be more comfortable there,” “who said?” you mumble. “…okay,” he says, wrapping his arms around your waist and shifting a bit to find a more comfortable position for the two of you; in the end, he didn’t wake you up because you were so cute and comfortable that he just wanted to keep holding you in his arms, and that’s what he did.

⤷ Shigaraki

he’s in the middle of a game when you whimper sleepily for hugs as you drag him to bed. he holds the controller out of your reach. “wait, y/n, i’m about to – fuck no!” he groans when he loses before shooting you a look and basically tackling you on the bed, suffocating you with a bear hug. “you made me lose, i’m not gonna let you go now; this is your punishment,” despite your drowsiness, you laugh and tighten your embrace, suffocating him in an equally eager hug until both of you relents at the same time. you then slowly drift off to sleep in his arms and he soon follows suit.

please

What about bakugo x yn smau about this tiktok ;)? I’m gonna start writing this later hehe

please someone help me i cannot for the life of me remember the one fic where you’re izukus little sister and you’ve got the biggest crush on katsuki and you go to a party then he tries to take you home please please please if you know what im talking about help

im thinking it had to have been deleted because i know for a fact it was the first thing in my likes and now it not there

i just noticed u changed ur layouts for your theme! love your theme btw! so cute and so you!!!

thanks ya thanks ya. i want it to look pretty i want to change it every four seconds because i always thing someone else’s is cooler and i like that more and want to try it but i not that tech savvy hehe :)

school has been kicking my ass. no other excuse for not writing other than purely my brain can’t handle it right now and i’m sorry. at some point i will get back to it but mentally i can’t deal with it at the moment. i love you all and thanks for your patience.

bakugou with a girlfriend who’s always sleepy. says she’s not tired but he sees her droopy eyes and thinks it’s the cutest thing in the world, her words slurring a bit as she says “m just resting my eyes”

when he sees her start to slump a little bit, going in and out of sleep, he pulls her in and she immediately cuddled against him.

bakugou with a sleepy girlfriend please i need it.

Roommate! Bakugou who slowly watches his friends fall in love, watches them share their lives with someone. He sees the way they look at their person, sees how that kind of love changes someone. And he’s happy for them, truly, even when it means they have less time to hang out.

But he can’t help but ache.

He’d give anything to feel that. To be that attached to someone. To be holding someone like that.

Every time time that ache starts to feel like it’s too much, that it’s going to consume him from the inside out, you’re there.

He’s had a few relationships, sure, but he’s never really been in love. Not truly. Until he fell for you, that is. Silently, painfully, and unexpectedly.

He knows you don’t mean to be his beacon. He knows it’s all unintentional, the way you pull him out of that ache. He especially knows you don’t mean to be the reason for that ache.

He knows he could love you the way you want, the way you both deserve, if you’d just give him a chance. But he also knows you’re afraid.

He’s held you while you cried over being cheated on, brought you food when you’d get so down you’d stop eating. And he was the one who broke your ex’s nose when he had the audacity to talk down to you in front of him.

He knows you’ve been hurt. He understands why you’re scared to let someone know you again. Except he already does. He knows your favorite color, he knows your favorite food, which shows you watch when you’re sad, he notices the way you stay up late and bake things when you can’t sleep, or the way you pick at your nails when you’re anxious. Inside and out, he knows you, loves you.

He just doesn’t know what it’s like to be loved by you.

But there are moments when he’s sure he gets a glimpse:

Movie nights where you end up under the same blanket as him, fast asleep and curled into his side or against his chest.

Quiet moments when he has an important interview and you have to help him with his tie, soothing his worries without him saying a word about them.

Pro-Hero events where you’re his plus one and you press close to him for pictures, smiling warmly up at him with your hand on his chest.

He wants nothing more than to feel your love unbridled, to see you love without caution. He wishes he could tell you to just fall for him, assure you that he’ll catch you.

But for now, he’ll just have to feel that ache.

[ nsfw ] — no penetration ; oral (f!receiving) ; m!masturbation ; lots of "first time" things and talk ; more virgin bakugou ; angst ; part one

[ wc ] — you know the drill: i'll update this in the morning LOL it's long tho !

you and bakugou avoid each other just like you did in middle school, only it's a little too easy this time around.

he's terrible at texting back in general, and because you're not initiating any conversations on your own — or sending funny memes or bringing up all might in some capacity — the radio silence draws ever on and on.

the closest you come to interacting with him is getting a snapchat from his mom, his figure in the background at their kitchen table. all you can see is the floof of his hair and the outline of his shoulders, but you're so bothered by the fact that he's home and didn't tell you that you don't even respond.

it officiates things in a bad way; he's really, actually not speaking to you.

and it's — fucking annoying.

at least in the past the distance was mutually and wordlessly agreed upon; you didn't talk because you were busy or didn't have time or anything new to say, but whenever he's come home — because he so rarely does — bakugou has always made his usual, god-honest attempt to irritate you.

and he still is, but this time he's doing it all wrong.

you go through the five stages of grief rather quickly, jumping from denial to anger overnight. several times, you type out something to text him, each message different than the last:

i know you were at your mom's jackass ☠️

it's really not a big deal and i think we should just forget about it, if that's what you wanna do ?

if i crossed some kind of boundary with you then i'm sorry and i won't say that again so you better call me before i put your baby pictures on the internet. i'm serious.

you're my best friend and i don't think it's weird that it happened. if you're being dumb because you're embarrassed, then don't be because i thought it was really hot

unsurprisingly, you don't send any of these and instead just stew in your own aggravation. lunch with him after the whole thing had been just as empty and awkward, and you think he chose the place near your apartment just so you could walk home and he didn't have to spend another second with you.

three months go by, which isn't long compared to other stints you've spent not talking to one another, but this one drags. like a lot. the only good that comes from it is that you graduate from anger to acceptance, finalizing a future without him in it.

except for the few times he invades your brain like a little parasite, red-faced and shuddering, gripping you like a lifeline, and then your stomach flips so hard that you feel sick and it takes genuine effort to check out of that daydream and back into a bakugou-less reality.

and then he shows up at your apartment, uninvited.

his mom hosts a sunday dinner that you don't go to, for several potential reasons. one would be that you'll have to see bakugou and pretend like nothing's happened even though you're still a little peeved; two is that you'll both ignore each other, and that'll reverse all your progress because he's been ignoring you already.

three is that he might not show up, and then you'll have to pretend that it doesn't bother you all night long.

none of that sounds better than watching trash television and falling asleep on your couch, so you tell mitsuki that you're very sick and very sorry, and that you'll make it up to her later.

because of this, the first thing bakugou says to you after you swing the front door open is, "you're supposed to be fuckin' dead."

suffice to say, you're surprised to see him; still outfitted in his hero costume, mask shoved up his forehead so that his hair is wilder than usual. there's kohl smudged around his eyes, messy, and they look brighter and harsher because of it.

there's also a family-mart plastic bag in his right hand.

"what?"

he just grunts, eyes snapping over your figure, dressed down in a too-large sweater and athletic shorts meant for running even though you've never done so in them.

in his hands — still gloved — the plastic crinkles obnoxiously as he holds it out. "old hag told me to bring this to you."

a can of low sodium soup, two apples, gatorade, and something over-the-counter for nausea. there's something else at the very bottom that you don't get the chance to inspect before he interrupts with his big, fat mouth.

"y'look fine to me, so why the hell didn't you go?"

you frown at him and — don't know what to say. clearly, it seems he's going the pretend-it-never-happened route, which is infuriating because he could just as well have done that months ago. even still, he won't hardly meet your gaze, staring for only a moment before rolling his eyes and huffing, sticking them anywhere else. if you peek close, real close, you'd say his ears are a little red, but maybe you're just looking for — something.

you shrug. "didn't feel like it."

he shakes his head like that's the stupidest thing he's ever heard, eyebrow arched. "why the hell not?"

"because, bakugou, i just didn't feel like going, i don't know what else to tell you." you huff, shrugging again when he doesn't say anything. "thanks for the stuff. is that it?"

his lips twist as he thinks, giving you another once-over before sighing. under his tank-top, you watch how his chest expands, the grimace that ripples over his face as he reaches a hand to lightly feel at his right side. "need your help with somethin'."

now you're just being petulant; you snort, raising your eyebrows as his eyes narrow at the sound. "me? are you joking? you need my help with—"

he groans loud enough to drown you out. "y'gonna let me in or y'just gonna run your mouth?" and so you step aside to wave him in wordlessly.

the backpack on his shoulder dumps to the ground by the door and he strolls into the kitchen like he owns the place, despite the fact that he's never been here before. you've lived in the unit for a year, but meetups are so infrequent and showing it off to him was never considered — until now; watching him shuffle through the bag on the counter, your nerves spike at the reality check.

alone together, again. in your apartment. well after dark.

that image of him is so — invasive, sweeping in at the worst times: between your legs, face as red as his eyes, the little moan he kept trying to swallow. how embarrassed he seemed when you asked if he felt good, if you felt good, and the fact that he still admitted it despite everything.

your entire body blazes like a flame to gasoline, and you try to focus on what else he's taking out of the bag, oblivious.

does he think about it at all? the way you have? at the root of the situation, that's what has been most bothersome: is he grossed out? simply embarrassed? does he feel taken advantage of? did he enjoy it and just doesn't know how to say it? the not knowing is driving you insane.

"i got—" bakugou awkwardly angles his body, gently touching at his side again. in his hands is a simple pack of first-aid supplies, like a wound wash and bandages and medical tape. "need you to change this shit for me."

"oh?" is all you can manage to say, still distracted, and whatever is obvious in your voice has his eyes snapping to you from across the kitchen, adam's apple bobbing. you clear your throat, struggling for normalcy. "the hell did you do?"

he's — going to take his shirt off. clearly, by the way he stretches out his shoulders and then slowly reaches behind himself to grab the material by the back, carefully pulling it up over his head with a low, stinging hiss.

bakugou's always been a lean kid — guy — but pulled so taut like that, after years of working out muscles you didn't even know he had, he looks — stupidly shredded, and the slow reveal of his tight stomach is not helping you to focus.

you just never realized how hot it was, because you never looked at him like that. until recently.

his mask comes off with his shirt and he tosses both onto the kitchen counter — again, as if he pays the bills here — and his hair is a mess and he usually doesn't care, but he runs a hand through it several times before finally looking back at you, eyes outlined in black.

"y'gonna help me or...?" he shrugs, trying to appear impassive — but it's too obvious; something's shifted, for the both of you.

you don't trust your voice anymore, so you just shuffle over to him, frowning at the dirty, worn bandage that's already unsticking from his skin. with his teeth, he pulls off his gloves and it's a wonder why he even wears them, really, because his hands are filthy underneath, covered in soot and black-stained grease.

standing like he is, arm slightly raised, you can see all his sweat, muscles shifting under his skin as he breathes, and his hairy armpit is staring you in the face and you don't know when he stopped being 12 and started being 20 and when he became such a man. it's not fair, that he should suddenly be so — attractive.

"you're disgusting," you tell him — and mean it — and it's met with such hot and irritated surprise that you have to keep talking before he explodes. "you should probably take a shower before putting on a new bandage."

it's road-rash up his right side, still shiny and wet and blood red. still raw. just looking at it is enough to make you cringe.

bakugou huffs, exasperated. "okay, gimme a towel then."

"i didn't mean take a shower here!" you squawk, taking a step back as if to further yourself from the suggestion.

detonation imminent; bakugou curls his hands into fists and the same muffled warning you've been getting your whole life crackles. "okay," he says, voice thin and razor sharp. "you're coming back to mine then?"

your whole life flashes before your eyes — or at least the few minutes it took for him to lose his shit between your legs. "what? no, why would i?"

"i need your help with this, dip-shit!"

"you're saying there's no one else that can—"

"if you want me to fuck off, just say so!"

things go silent, startlingly so. totally still, except for the rising flush across his face, one that you used to read as annoyance but are now translating into something else you never could have expected from him: embarrassment. it's starting to give you whiplash, how much you're discovering despite knowing him all your life.

"closet is at the end of hall," you say in surrender. "bathroom will be on your left."

bakugou mutters a quiet, angry little "jesus" before stalking back to the front door to get his bag, and then he's disappearing into the dark of your apartment.

you slump down on your couch and — struggle. watching the tv and absorbing nothing; it's a rerun anyway. the sudden, overwhelming urge to cry washes over you as the shower spray sounds in the background, followed by a low-timbered swear and the clatter of several bottles against the tub.

it's easy to butt heads with bakugou. you don't think there is any other way to interact with him, really, because he's so argumentative and that used to be okay, but now things are — off. you don't know what he's doing, what he wants, why he's here and in your shower when he could be at home or getting patched up at his agency. all the conclusions you can come to are frightening, a little, and they're hard to fathom; is he — does he want more?

is this just because he's a guy that got some action and is looking for a second round, or is this because it's you?

this stupid situation has only added an unnecessary amount of drama to your life, and you think maybe the pretend-it-never-happened route is the smartest path, even if you can't stop thinking about him and the strength coiled in his biceps, in his shoulders, and how tall he's become and — when did he lose most of the baby fat in his face, and when did he get such a sharp jawline?

how much is he working out, to get his body like that? he used to be a skinny, scrappy little thing and now — he can probably lift a truck over his head. must run all the time, though he's always been active, and you've never looked before, but you wonder how nice his ass is.

what he looks like under the shower, soapy and wet.

furiously, you blink out of your daydream, feeling like a foreign body in your own skin; if someone would have told you only a handful of months ago that you'd be having weird, sensual thoughts about your best friend, you would have laughed so hard you'd cried. or puked.

but if anyone else stands in that picture with him, your heart squeezes painfully. traitorously. already, you've shared so many memories with him; the start of elementary school, learning how to swim, giving each other equally bruised faces, staying up all night to study for important exams, tackling middle school graduation side-by-side, him making himself at home in your first apartment, just as you had done in his.

the devil on your shoulder asks: what's a few more firsts?

it seems like the shower stops in record time, but when you hone back in on the tv, the episode has changed and new drama is settling in. distantly, the rattle of the doorknob is more aggressive than it needs to be and when the echo of a swung-open door trails down the hallway, your heart suspends in your throat. never have you had to think this much just to be around him, and it's bothersome.

clean and relaxed, he's — softer; you spare a quick glance at him when he comes to stand beside the couch, distracted by the show on screen, and his hair is damp, starting to stick out again the more it dries. his muscles aren't made of marble anymore; still there and rippling, but he breathes calmly and his skin is baby smooth, tender. you eye his tummy and the line of fine hair running down into the waistband of his sweats, and do your best to ignore the sudden desire to kiss right above his belly-button.

"since when are they talking again?"

just as he looks at you, your gaze shoots back to the screen, eyes narrowing as you try to rapidly remember what's happening in the day-to-day for stay-at-home, pro-hero wives.

"uh," you blink, distracted — and he notices, "what do you mean? they've been hanging out, like, all season."

bakugou watches the tv in silence, occasionally glancing down to the bandage in his hands as he carefully spreads it out, as he dampens a towel with the antiseptic and dabs at his wounds. 

"even after she hit on whatshername's husband?"

"yeah, that was a misunderstanding," you frown at him but he doesn't see it. "remember when they went to that dinner party and all hell broke loose because—"

his flat look serves for a rude interruption. "they go to a lot of fuckin' dinner parties."

"i know, but," you scoff, annoyed, "have you even watched this season?"

bakugou scoffs, mocking and over-dramatic, "yeah, as if i've got all day to sit on my ass and watch your stupid girly—"

"you're watching it right now."

"because you've got it on!" he huffs when you sink into the couch, resolutely trying to ignore him. “start it over then, if you’re gonna cry about it.”

you gape up at him, going as far as to pause the show so that maybe he’ll acknowledge you and all your annoyance; he doesn’t. “start it over? this is, like, episode 26!”

“so? got a hot date or what?”

he’s not at all interested in the answer and that’s obvious when he spins around and holds out the bandage expectantly, staring down at the scrape — glowing red and angry, a mirrored wound you can feel scabbing across your own skin; itchy and irritating. 

finally he looks at you properly, frowning softly and — you see him then, can feel the tension lining his body as you carefully tape on his bandage. trying to hide how uncomfortable he is, though you he’s never had to do so with you in all of — forever. it’s nauseating, and again you're struck by the image of him, only now it's of the horror that had been on his face afterwards, at what you’d done.

it pushes everything over the edge; quietly, so that your voice doesn’t expose anything, you say, “you haven’t spoken to me in three months.”

silence weighs in the air immediately, heavy, and you watch him try to appear unbothered, shrugging as he stares back at the unmoving tv, jaw tight. “phone works both ways.”

“yeah, but,” your hands drop as he steps away to pull on a loose shirt, and you curl your fists into your own. just as he has. “i’m always the one having to reach out—”

“so why didn’t you?”

“what?” frustrated, you massage your temples, trying to soothe the nuclear headache threatening to incinerate you. “are you seriously trying to—”

“what’s the big deal?” he huffs, slumping down into the far corner of the couch before cringing, swearing as he gently touches at his bandage. “you’ve gone longer than that without talkin’ to me, so…”

the tone of his voice is infuriating, as if this is somehow all your fault — and maybe it is, because you shouldn’t have crossed such a boundary with him, but — he can be such a dick.

“it’s not just me bakugou, you could have just as easily picked up the phone, too!” your teeth grind when he shrugs again, leaning his head against his fist as he looks anywhere else. it almost looks like guilt that's dragging his expression down, but you know better than to assume he could feel such a thing. “you always—”

“jesus, if i always do this—”

“shut up for a second, damn!” and then because you can’t stand the stupid look on his face, you kick him in the thigh for good measure; it garners a warning glare, his teeth bared.

he easily catches you by the ankle when you try to kick him again. "tell me what the big fuckin' deal is."

"the big deal? oh, you mean besides the fact that you totally came in your pants?"

it stuns him for a second, eyes wide and face pale, before he's yanking you across the couch, narrowly avoiding the knee aimed for his gut. "you—fucking—!" a smack lands across the back of his head when he ducks and he plants a heavy hand over your face, forcing you to close your eyes and turn away.

"you're gonna blow my head off!"

"if i wanted you dead, you—" he intercepts the hand you blindly reach up with, crossing it awkwardly over your chest so that you're pinned down like a wild animal. "you would be!"

"kiss my ass, katsuki." you snark, and it does something to him, your use of his first name, because he's still for a moment before sitting back and collecting your wrists correctly, to hold against the couch arm above your head.

"you're such a fucking—" he swoops in so low that his nose almost brushes yours and he grabs the front of your sweater with his free hand, like he's gonna shake you down for some lunch money. "fuck, i could just—" and then he groans long and loud, so annoyed he can't find the words.

"yeah, well—"

"shut up," he lightly knocks his forehead into your cheekbone with another dissatisfied sound, letting out a heavy sigh as he sinks his face down into your neck.

all your muscles tighten on instinct, waiting for the sharp bite that's due any second — but his fingers only uncurl from the material of your sweater, slowly slipping around to tangle into the hair at the nape of your neck. his pull there is a little tight, enough for you to know he's got you, but not so much that you're head is aching; you can't imagine you have a sensitive scalp, anyway, after growing up around him.

you want to say something — which is an annoying realization because now you feel like too much of a talker — but you just focus on the heave of his chest over yours, the breath that moves through him. the minute jostle of his hips as he settles further into the space between your legs, almost comfortable. the slight swell of something unfamiliar against your inner thigh.

bakugou presses his face a little further into you, warm, and the tip of his nose drags along the column of your throat. successfully sedating you, distracted by the feel of his parted lips against your skin.

your body is hot all over, very suddenly; the sweater now feels like a death trap and hopefully you don't smell weird, though it's never been a worry before, not around him, and your adrenaline is rushing and you're kinda tired of acting like you don't know why that is.

fuck pretend-it-never-happened. it's been a long three months.

he's almost entirely pressed against you, but there is a small gap of space that closes when you open your legs a little wider, hitching them around his waist as his breath stutters against your neck.

it's happened so quick, so effortlessly yet again; you give a purposeful roll of your hips upward and are lost in him all over.

only — it's different than it was before because straddling his lap hadn't done much for you, but now the weighted outline of him is right against your center and the pressure that drags across you sends tingles up your spine and has your toes curling in your socks. when you let out a tiny gasp at the stomach-flipping sensation, tension coils in every curve of his body and the grip around your wrists and in your hair only tightens.

you can't help it; you let out a "katsuki" in the same heady tone as you did in his apartment and it has him falling easily into the slow grind you've been unable to stop thinking about. what shifts across his face is obvious, against your throat, like the scrunch of his brow and the slow drop of his mouth. he tries to muffle his breathy "oh" into your skin, but it echoes throughout your entire body, has an ache beginning between your thighs that he's already soothing.

the nip comes then, teeth sinking gently into your neck as you weakly cry out in surprise, but it's only for a moment before his tongue — wet and heavy and wide — is tasting over your jugular, lips closing around your skin as he sucks experimentally. you let out a proper moan then, squirming against his hands and up into him so that the pressure doubles for the both of you.

katsuki finally relinquishes your wrists, carding his hand down your body before coming to squeeze your hip, your thigh, locking your leg tight around his waist. "yeah," he rasps, voice deeper than you've ever heard it as he presses his forehead into yours. "how do you fuckin' like it?"

being bitten, he means, vengefully, but you're spread open beneath him and he's rutting the hard length of himself against you roughly, eagerly, and panting open-mouthed and you tighten up at the aggression in his tone and in his hands and his very being and —

"fuck," you gasp, loud and wanton, "fuck, katsuki—"

and then you are kissing your best friend.

the boy from down the street that always ruined your hair and taught you where to place your thumb if you were gonna throw a punch. that used his empty pen cartridge to blow spitballs at you and mocked you for losing crane games, even though he ended up giving you the stupid stuffed animal anyway. that had to be king of the castle, with his stick-sword and cardboard shield. that demanded you be his queen, weeds he picked for you woven carefully into your hair by his hands.

katsuki kisses like he's shy — another term you've never thought of in relation to him and all his fire and brimstone; it's slow and a little delayed in comparison to what his hips are doing, as if he's in his head too much and is trying to figure how to move his lips and when. tentative and chaste, until you run your tongue along the seam of his mouth and pry him open a little more.

it's making you hungry; that possessiveness from before is creeping back in, eager to have him in ways nobody else has. you arch into him, biting at his lips and sighing into his mouth as goosebumps break out across his skin.

with a slant of his head, he deepens the kiss and you can feel his nostrils flaring, the fingernails scratching against your scalp, the bruises he's probably leaving on your thigh. he lets up only to breathe, panting into your ear when he begins to bite and suck on your skin again; your earlobe and neck and even the cut of your jaw. like maybe he's hungry, too.

you fist a hand into his shirt just to tug it up his body, feeling the strong contract of his stomach when your fingers ghost against him. katsuki gets the hint quickly, rising up to his knees to tear the material off — much more harshly than he did before, which has you eying his crinkled bandage — and you move fast to take advantage of the new space.

it gives him pause when you yank down your shorts, pulling your legs back to slip them off and fling them somewhere across the room. his face goes red again, and his heaving chest, too, and his eyelids flutter as he takes in the sight of your flimsy, damp cotton underwear. you start to pull the sweater up your stomach, but he's watching so intently — so ravenous — that you get shy, without a bra underneath the too-hot fabric.

in any other situation, katsuki would have grabbed onto this moment, your hesitation, and held it over your head to come back and poke at. cataloged this little weak spot for future arguments, but now —

not once has he ever been gentle with you in anything; it's enough of a surprise that that's even a possibility for him, for the two of you, but he presses his body back into yours and kisses you deep, calloused fingers tracing over the new skin exposed to him. he doesn't try to push the sweater up any further, but one hand slips up your back, to splay between your shoulder-blades like it had before, and he's so close and you've never known him to be this — careful. with anything.

"y'r so—" katsuki rolls his hips again and groans, whispering against your lips. "fuckin' soft."

his sweatpants are still on and you don't know why, but when you reach down to help tug them off, he grabs your wrist before they can go too far.

he presses the heat from his cheeks into your own, like he wants to share it. "you done this before?"

"have you?"

he frowns at your non-answer. "i asked first."

you have. three times, technically, though a phantom pain echoes in your stomach at the memories, and you feel an odd emptiness in your chest that makes you really glad to have the sweater still on. your answer leaves you a little ashamed, under his gaze, and you purposely turn from it. "would...that bother you?"

before, you wouldn't have cared, didn't care, nor were you even thinking of him when it happened. wherever he must have been; u.a, probably, getting ready to make his lifelong dreams a reality while you trusted a boy that didn't look at you the way katsuki is now. that didn't hold you and touch you and kiss you the way your best friend has.

he scoffs, though it doesn't sound as careless as it usually does and he squeezes his eyes shut so you can't read them. the truth that's hidden there. "no," he lies, "why would—" but he doesn't finish, just sighs.

"it was awful anyway," you tell him, offering a small smile when he peeks down at you. he doesn't say anything, so you kiss him once, twice, until his tension is melting away. "should have been you."

the grip on your thigh turns almost painful and he grinds into you so roughly that you both gasp, loud in the tight, barely-there space between you. "yeah," he rasps, sucking another bruise into the hollow of your throat. "fuckin' should have."

you try to imagine it; eighteen and nervous, naked in front of him for the first time since you were seven and got into paint from his mom's workshop, when she made you both strip down in the same room, furious. how different he might have been with you then, how much more unsure. kinder than your ex, without a doubt, even for katsuki, and he probably wouldn't have even gone through with the whole thing, considering how uncomfortable the first time is.

or maybe it wouldn't have been, with him; maybe he would have looked into it, taken the time to wind you up the same way he is now so that you were eager and wet and ready. looking down at you with his wide, almost-black eyes in the dim light of a table lamp. another first to share.

"if i'd have just," he huffs, allowing his sweats to slip down past his hips. shoulders trembling when he makes you moan out his name again. "fuckin'—grown a pair 'n told you—"

the weight of him becomes more obvious, the straining bulge he's rocking into your core, and seeing it is — really getting to you; wearing such tight boxers, you can tell just how close the pink tip of him is to his waistband, nearly peeking out from just how hard he is.

it takes a shrug to get him out of your shoulder, so you can press your lips back to his. "can still be you, katsuki," you breathe, biting on his bottom lip until his tiny frown is gone. "if you want, it can still be you."

for a minute, he indulges himself in the greedy kiss you're giving him, testing strokes of his tongue against your own as his hips stutter out of rhythm — but it's when your fingers brush through the hair at the base of his stomach, trying to slip a hand into his boxers, that he's gasping into your mouth and pushing his body up and away.

determination settles over his face then — along with his vibrant flush — and he doesn't say anything as he grabs you like it's nothing and scoots you up the couch so that your back is pressed to the arm, propped up. once he settles between your thighs, he just rests his face into the plush of your stomach — which is humiliating and has you squirming, but the firmness returns to his hands; holding your hips so that you'll still, so that he can kiss right above your belly button, just as you wanted to do to him.

heat flares in your own cheeks — and down your chest and in your ears and searing on the back of your neck — when you feel the first puff of his warm breath against your underwear, where you're sensitive and slick and aching.

this is completely new to you; your ex-boyfriend probably never considered tasting you here, certainly not with the same desire that's painted across katsuki's face. you have to slap your hands over your eyes and bite your lip, embarrassed, suddenly, at how desperate the simple press of his mouth to your underwear makes you.

"hey, hey," katsuki grunts, pinching at your hips until you peek at him through your fingers. the highlights of his cheeks are crimson and his eyes are black, glaring with an intensity that makes you shiver. "it's my fuckin' turn."

to make you fall apart, he means, just as he had.

at the first hot drag of his tongue against the material, you squirm, leaning your head back so that your expression is hidden. another grunt comes from him, you think in dissatisfaction, but he continues, laving until your mouth is falling open and the fabric between you is drenched.

he's gone just long enough to be replaced by the ghost of his thumb, touching you much too-gently. hunger has you stealing another look at him, watching behind your hands as he stares, blatantly, at the mess he's already made of you, stroking the pad of his finger against the sodden material in interest.

discovering; a curious swipe over where you're aching has you sighing and trembling and his eyes jump back up to your covered face, open mouth curling into the faintest smirk as he does it again and again and again. it's bullshit — how quickly he's figured you out, almost as if your body was meant to be unraveled by his hands — but then again, it didn't take you long either, did it?

"katsuki," you hiss, digging a hand into the hair at the crown of his head, tugging on it until his smile is dropping and his eyes are lidding. your body is on fire and your legs are trying to close around his head, hips squirming as he toys with you, like the little brat he is.

deadly serious, he grabs your underwear and holds it tightly in his fist so that you can wiggle one leg free, and then he's tugging it out of his way and devouring you whole.

it's sloppy, the mixture of spit and slick as runs his tongue through you, wet and wide, and you're so sensitive that you squeak out in surprise, fingers tightening. a groan punches from deep in his chest and your hips buck at the vibration of it, drawn so tight already.

"oh my—" you gasp, dropping your other hand from your face to grip the couch; eyes closed, you're somewhere else entirely, lost in the clumsy swirl of pleasure between your thighs.

katsuki raises his head to breathe, reaffirming your grip in his hair by wrapping his fingers tight over your own. at the shiny sight of his mouth, you can't help but to whimper with a needy roll of your hips, until he's simply sticking out his tongue and allowing you to ride it, to use it as you need to. it's embarrassing, how desperate you are, but his eyes are knife-sharp and trained on you and you've never experienced anything like this.

he moves then, slipping one hand further up under your sweater, cupping your breast carefully as his lids flutter — and the other is shoved between his hips and where they're pressed into the couch. you tighten up at just the idea of him rutting into his hand while kissing your messy slit, moaning openly, head falling back as your eyes start to roll.

this is — fuck — you've never been so turned on in all your life and it's driving you crazy; at one point in time, the thought of bakugou like this would have grossed you out, but now you think it's only like this because of him. anyone else wasn't right, not the way he is, and he's maybe a little impatient and unwieldy, but it's katsuki. between your legs with his mouth on you — something he wanted — and his fingers are brushing over your nipple and the other is down his pants, wrist flexing and —

"fuck, oh fuck, i—" you try to sit up, chasing blindly after the high, but he forces you back down. a long groan is muffled by your skin and when he lifts his chin just a little, a glob of spit falls off his lips and the sight makes your toes curl before he presses back into you and sucks.

everything goes blank as you free-fall into him and you cum quietly, muscles so taut in your body that your voice can't even squeeze out of your throat. the minute you're able to breathe, he's biting a mark into your thigh and yanking you back down under him, lips slick against yours.

tasting yourself on his tongue has you coming out of the heady haze, ravenous; katsuki helps you to shove his boxers down, though he can only gasp tightly when he grinds against you, coating himself.

"'m not—" his soft hair tickles your face when he shakes his head, arms trembling beside your head. "i won't be able to—"

"keep going," you breathe, smearing your mess over the tip of him and down his length as he groans. "i don't care, keep going."

he smashes his lips to yours, though he's only able to meet the pump of your hand a few times before dropping his forehead to your shoulder, spine curling, fingers digging into your hair. katsuki swears long and low, eventually letting out a soft sound you wouldn't have expected from him as his entire body tenses and he spills onto your stomach.

"goddamn it," he moans into the fabric of your sweater, weary, after a long moment. "now 'm fuckin' tired."

and for some reason that makes you laugh, though the lust is dissipating and your nerves are trembling at the memory of how this ended last time. katsuki pulls away suddenly, making your stomach drop, and he doesn't look at you as he detangles himself, awkwardly shuffling away from the couch and out of sight.

you frown down at the mess on your stomach, the way it's pooling in your belly-button — and you'll be damned to let him leave you like this, but just as you finishing reciting over and over what you want to say, he appears, towel in hand.

it's still damp from his shower and you tense on instinct, waiting for him to start twirling it with that stupid grin on his face, but katsuki only arranges your legs so that he can sit between them, carefully wiping you off as his cheeks burn. and you just watch him, the way he runs a hand over your skin to make sure he got it all before helping to finagle your underwear back on properly.

then he just looks at the tv, unmoving. if he's trying to appear casual at all, it's a piss-poor job — but he's never been able to keep his fat mouth shut for long.

the look he gives you lacks its usual heat, though you can't tell if that's just because he's drained or if he's withdrawn for another reason. "what now? six months, a year before you talk to me again?"

and you're annoyed all over again.

"what?" you return his weak glare, sitting up properly so that you're right in his face. "are you kidding me? you didn't talk to me either."

"the hell did you want me to say?" he scoffs and — you could slap him, for ruining everything so quickly. wipe that stupid look off his face with your fist. "'sorry i busted a nut, you free for dinner?'"

"yeah!" the shrill tone of your voice makes his eyes widen, and you throw your hands up in the air, incensed. "that sounds wonderful in comparison to coming home and avoiding me."

"i didn't avoid you," he mutters, though his eyes drift back to the tv. "just didn't have shit to say."

"bakugou," you slap your hands over your face for the second time, though this one is much worse than the last. "how is that fucking fair? what did you want me to say?"

and now — his eyes are full and furious, mouth curling down into an ugly frown that you've so rarely had the pleasure of seeing on his face; every time his mother made you go home and when you told him you weren't gonna try to test into u.a. when he overheard your girl friends teasing you for liking an older boy in your school.

when he was losing you, you realize.

"'m not doin' this shit with you," he mutters, definitive, before swiping his shirt up off the floor and standing. "not doin' this bakugou shit."

"oh my god," you groan, rising, too, because your stomach is twisting at the thought of him leaving again, no matter how angry he's making you. "what does that even mean?"

you trail him as he stomps into your kitchen to grab his work shirt and mask from the counter, trying to interrupt him at every turn, and the scowl on his face only grows when you shoot to stand in front of the door, just as he reaches for his bag.

"you can't—"

"this," he seethes, gesturing to you and then himself before gritting his teeth so hard that they should shatter. "this is why i didn't wanna fuckin' talk to you."

you knew he didn't. the minute lunch ended and when you made out his shape in mitsuki's snapchat: you knew. but hearing it from his mouth is as much of a confirmation as it is a kick in the gut.

there's more he's struggling to say, mouth shifting as he chews on the words and the skin of his lips. his gaze jumps from you to the door to something on the counter before he's swallowing again, staring down at you with brand new eyes.

the light in the kitchen makes them shine, angry and sad. "i can't—" he sighs, nostrils flaring like he's mad at himself for struggling. "go back to bakugou, not after—" a vague hand waves toward the couch. "maybe this is just, i don't know, whatever to you, but i — fuckin' can't."

tell me what the big fuckin' deal is; earlier, he'd demanded it of you, why the silence mattered so much this time when it didn't seem to matter before. in the midst of your anger, you didn't think twice about his wording but now —

he wanted you to say it. katsuki wanted to hear you say that it hurt to be without him for so long, and he kept his distance because he was afraid that you wouldn't.

"you're so stupid," you mutter it quietly, and his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, enraged, but before he can get another dumb word out, you loop your arms around his neck and just — kiss him.

not crazy or wild or lust-driven, just your lips to his, slowly working him out of the shell he's tried to hide behind.

the bag in his hand hits the ground with a soft thud and then his arm is wrapping around your back, tugging you to him as he finally breathes and opens his mouth — and lets you in.

when you cup the sides of his neck, katsuki inhales sharply through his nose, pulse jumping under your fingers, and his lashes flutter against your cheeks as he opens his eyes. he pulls back enough so that you can stare at each other and you realize that eyeliner is still clinging to his lids, making him seem sharper than usual.

you're a little stunned, then, at how beautiful he is. 

"i can't go back to bakugou either, dumbass." gently, you knock your forehead into his, smiling at the pout on his face. "you've totally screwed that up for me."

"yeah, well," he huffs, "about time. only took you all my goddamn life."

"sorry i'm late."

"what else is new?" he rolls his eyes and you squeak, indignant, before sticking your tongue out at him, patience worn thin already.

you expect a bite or a pinch to the cheek or another rough violence that falls along the lines that have made up your relationship thus far — but instead there is only something soft that reflects in his eyes and the shy kiss he presses to your lips, something that he's kept safe just for you, guarded, with his stick-sword and cardboard shield.

if you love me at all you will read it plz it’s so good

Hear me out-

I was in a restaurant and y'know how so eti.es you get really horny for no apparent reason?

Well that kinda happened and all I could think about was waiter Bakugou noticing and giving you his keys so you could have car sex about half an hour later when his shift ended.

I'm so tired of brain rot tbh 😮‍💨

I am listening

I swear it always happens at the most inconvenient of times too, it's just an intrusive thought like 'imagine if u got bent over this table and fucked' LMFAO ITS SO CRAZY

warnings: mdni; two strangers having car sex lol female reader in mind, fingering (f!receiving), vaginal sex, protected sex. 1.6k

Anyway, yeah he noticed at first the fleeting glances you were giving to him. He was much too sexy cute to be working at some restaurant, he was worthy of being a model with how defined his body is, how his face is probably the most beautiful face you've ever lied eyes upon. But back to his muscles, the way his white dress shirt strains against his biceps whenever he's carrying multiple plates on his arms (you know how they just balance them like magicians) and you can't help but... watch him.

He at first thought you were maybe trying to flag him down to order something but you'd always look away the second he'd make eye contact with you with the most bashful of smiles on your face, trying your hardest to hide your face away from him so he didn't see just how much he was effecting you. So now he has a new interest in you, watches you whenever he comes over to fill up your friend's drinks, and how you most definitely check out his hands, arms, and gold chain beneath his shirt's open collar. You definitely looked at his ass when he turned around for a moment to let a colleague pass.

Bakugou is a man who draws a lot of attention, naturally, man is a greek statue. So he discretely passes you his keys, maybe you get up to go to the toilet or something—yes he knows it's a bit creepy of him to be basically lurking waiting for you to come out before he's pushing his car keys into your hand. "Wait for me, it's the black car in the number 3 parking spot." It's quick, already turning away before you can even process what the hell he's on about and the fact you're holding keys to some fancy car.

Rolling on the end of his shift, Bakugou is nervous. What if you just said fuck it and stole his car? He doesn't think you look the type but shit, it's a thought he has regardless. But the instant relief he finds when you're leaning against his car, a nervous look on your face until you see him approaching and instantly that shy smile is back on your face.

"Didn't think you'd still be here," he admits, watching the way your eyes once again roam over his face and down his chest before you meet his eyes again. He's stood right in front of you, a boyish smile on his face.

"I did think about leaving." you smile back easily, and he's relieved you didn't leave so soon. He admits you're extremely cute, and this is not something he does—ever. You offer his keys back up to him, pretty finger holding them up for him and he goes to reach for them before you're pulling them back towards you. Oh, you wanted to play with him? He's always down to play.

Bakugou's crowding into your space, your back pressed into the passenger's door of his car and he places both of his hands against the roof to fully lean into your space. His head tilts, he can feel your soft breaths against his face now with how close he is, can taste your perfume on the back of his tongue and he just wants to devour you. So he doesn't waste a second, moving in to lay a hungry kiss against your lips that quickly develops into him pushing his tongue into your mouth.

It doesn't take much for both of you to fumble with the keys to open the backdoors of his car, you're the first to get in with your back down against the seats and Bakugou crawls in after you to loom over you like a beast. It's so dark in the car, just the neon light of the restaurant sign giving the both of you an orange glow.

Whilst you half expected him to jump on you, to start tearing your clothes off to indulge in spur-of-the-moment sex with a stranger. You're pleasantly surprised when he lowers his lips to yours again, slow yet fulfilling kisses; he's drinking you in entirely. It has your stomach stirring to life with both butterflies and undeniable arousal. His hands wander, slipping beneath the hem of your shirt to glide up against your sides until his thumbs roll over your bra.

Your eyes flutter at the feeling of his thumb roaming over your stiffening nipples, it's all so intoxicatingly intimate that it should feel weird but instead, it just has your head whirling. Unable to stop yourself from gasping when he pulls his lips away from your own to tuck his head into your neck, sucking blood to the surface of your skin in the form of small bruises.

When he does finally work you out of your clothes, as well as his own, you're both panting against each other. It was unbearable hot in the back of his car, all you could smell was him and it had your eyes in half-mast, staring up at him as if he were the only person in the world. Bakugou has a very similar look in his eyes, his fingers gliding between your legs to feel just how wet you are before plunging two fingers into you to work you open.

He swallows your moans whole and lets his tongue roll against your own and the rumbling groan making its way up his throat is almost lost in the kiss when you clench around his fingers. When he finally feels like you're stretched enough for him, he pulls his fingers back and raises up enough from you to let you watch the way his tongue drags over his fingers and sucks them into his mouth. It has your eyes fluttering, hole clenching around nothing in desperate need to be filled with what's been bobbing against his stomach this entire time.

"Patience," he grins when you whine a little, bucking your hips into him whilst he leans over you to dig through the gym bag you hadn't even noticed on the floor next to you. He pulls out a golden square package, your eyebrows shooting up in silent question. "Promise I don't usually do this,"

"You just keep condoms in your bag?"

And he shrugs, rolling the rubber down along his length and it has you licking your lips. His dick is fucking pretty, a pretty dick isn't something you'd ever think but nevertheless. That is what it is, it's flushed a pretty pink, the tip leaking with pre and the veins are practically throbbing. "Never know when I'll run into a pretty little thing like you." He snickers at the way you roll your eyes playfully, rewrapping your legs around his lithe waist to adjust himself.

His eyes meet yours in a silent ask for consent, and you nod your head. Hips raising just enough for him to roll the head of his cock through your lips before pushing against your entrance. Even with his fingers having stretched you some, it doesn't quite help with how thick he actually is. It's an impossible stretch, has your eyes rolling into the back of your head with a moan leaving your lips. Bakugou is no better off either, unable to stop the groan in his throat and his eyebrows furrow together at the way you clench around him.

Your body nearly jumps from the sudden friction against your clit, thick yet delicate fingers rubbing circles against you to try and coax you into relaxing more. His eyes are locked onto where the two of you are joined, he watches how your arousal is sticking to the condom and he can't help but wish he just went in raw. Maybe next time.

The thought has his hips unexpectantly bucking forward, a moan pulled from your pretty lips when he lays flush with his thighs to your ass. Next time? Will there even be a next time? Fuck, he sure hopes so. Your pussy feels too fucking good for a one-time thing, but would you want to see him again? That's when he decides to make it his mission to ensure you're not gonna ghost him or turn him down whenever he asks for your number.

His hips are fluid, rolling back and forth until he feels you relax, listening to the way your breaths become more erratic as you try to not get lost in the sensation of his cock pressing against that one spot that has your head filled with no thoughts other than him. The muted slap of his hips against your ass is loud in the car, you're certain the whole thing itself is moving from the way he's fucking hard and deep into you. So deep in fact you can feel him in your throat, choking on the moans and gasps.

He holds your gaze, watching the sheen of sweat on your pretty face in the flickering orange neon light and how your eyes are glazed over in what must be your approaching orgasm face. It's fucking beautifully sexy, his stomach tenses and he throws everything he has at you. Fingers pinching and swirling at your clit until he feels your walls flutter, and then squeeze, milking him for all he's worth. Bakugou moans, more of a whine when he starts to spill his seed in the condom and he wishes it was inside of you, wishes he could watch it be pushed from your abused little hole and roll down the crease of your ass onto his fancy leather seats.

The car is hot, warm and stuffy, Bakugou leans over you but is careful to not lay his entire weight on you. You're positively boneless beneath him, still reeling from your orgasm when he peppers a string of delicate kisses along your collarbone. Your head rolls to look at him, a dopey smile on his face that you can't help but mirror.

He's the first to break the air, a blush on his face. "I never caught your name."

ring me

18+ MDNI, sensitive content

warnings: katsuki calls while you’re in the middle of touching yourself because he’s got intuition like that, fem!reader, phone sex, voice kink (barely), marriage talk, angst if you squint, dialogue heavy, sextape mentioned, generally filthy <3

wc: 1.2k

Whoever’s calling is lucky they didn’t ruin an orgasm. The phone starts ringing while you’re knuckle deep in your cunt, and when you check the caller ID, you have no choice but to pick up.

“Hi, Katsuki.” You do your best to coach your voice to sound mostly normal and can only hope he doesn’t pick up on your erratic breath.

“Hi, baby. just wanted to check on you. You up to anythin’?” Fuck, he’s the perfect fiancé. He’d be so upset to know what you’re doing without him. You click the speaker button and toss your phone onto the mattress next to you.

Just hearing the soft rasp of his voice was enough to get you moving again, but instead touching your pussy how he would this time. Plunging two fingers into yourself and curling them up, using the other hand to press onto your clit. Sometimes he doesn’t rub circles into it like he knows you like, only presses, and when he’s feeling particularly mean, pinches. His goal each time is to make your thighs shake and cunt suck his fingers in deeper, and only then does he give your body what it wants. You’re already hot and leaking, slick dripping onto the clean sheets under you.

“N-Nothing much.” You reply, attempting to sound as bored as possible, cursing yourself when you most definitely do not.

Maybe he won’t catch it.

“Nothing, huh?” He questions, and you can clearly hear the smirk infecting voice, “Doesn’t sound like nothin’ to me.”

You have no such luck, you suppose.

“Tell me the truth.” He commands, without much conviction behind his words. But still, you could never disobey.

“Touching myself.” You break easily and confess amid sharp inhales of breath.

“Are you now? Without me?” He feigns betrayal, pain entwined in his voice, but you knew that he was being smug, trying to make you feel guilty for something that wasn’t really your fault.

“You’re never- ungh- home anymore, Katsuki.” You bite back at him, a choked moan slipping between, though you’re really lashing out to hide the hurt of that truth.

“I know. I’m sorry,” He acknowledges quietly. “Can I come home and make it up to you?”

“R-Right now?” Why is he asking for permission?

“Yes, now. It’s a little slow over here.” He talks casually to you as if you don’t have your fingers stuffed into your pussy.

“Please.” You mumble, not really focused on the conversation anymore, attention instead brought to what you were doing between your legs.

“Please, what?” He goads. Real cheeky.

“Please come home and- oh- touch me.” They slip deeper into you, hitting a sweet spot, and you have half the mind to think that maybe you should grab a toy to really punish him.

“Gonna do more than just touch ya, sweetheart.” His voice lowers an octave while he speaks.

“Tell me.” You puff.

“You like hearing me say it?” The undertone of tease in his voice is unmistakeable. So is the sound of his car engine starting up.

“You know I do.” You answer. He’s got you grinning stupidly up at the ceiling, thrilled and giddy that he’s really coming home just for you.

“Should punish you for havin’ fun without me,” You almost whine aloud, but it’s caught in your throat, “Not gonna, though. ‘S my fault you had to,” You faintly hear his blinker ticking, “Wanna sit you on my face and use my tongue on you. Put my fingers in your pussy to stretch you out a bit and hit that spot I know you like, the one that gets you shaking,” You roll your eyes. You know him like a book, “Put my cock in you as deep as it can fuckin’ reach,” He groans, and you picture him grabbing the bulge in his pants, “Fuck. ‘M hard just thinkin’ about you, sweetness.”

“Gonna play with yourself?” You ask almost too eagerly, loving how loose his lips get when he touches himself.

Over the line you hear him chuckle, “No. I have patience, unlike some people. Wanna save this all for you,” Indistinct honking can be heard over the line, “And how would it look if a Pro like me was caught jerking off while driving?”

“It would look like he loves his fiancé so much that he’s willing to break the law he’s supposed to enforce.” You’ve nearly stopped touching yourself at this point, to focused on teasing him to do anything but rub mindless circles onto your clit.

“‘M good to you in other ways, baby.”

“You’re not.” You say, smile bubbling under the surface of your lips.

“Oh, yeah? Mind telling me what makes me such a bad fiancé?” You hear the grin in his voice while he says it. If you close your eyes, you can imagine what he must look like right now. Driving with one hand, the other palming the hard bulge filling his pants. Smiling in the way he only lets you see and no one else. Perfect and precious Katsuki.

“If you were a good one your cock would be in me already. Wouldn’t have to take care of anything myself.” You know it’s not his fault that he’s not here. But that doesn’t mean you can’t still give him a hard time. He spoils you, and he knows it.

“I’ll make sure I’m home at your every whim from now on.” He jokes. There’s a pause, and you can feel a palpable shift back into your arousal, reminding you why you were on the phone in the first place, “What were you thinkin’ about?”

“When what?” You ask airily, not exactly done taunting him.

He takes it in stride, “When you were fingering yourself without me there to watch.”

“Oh, then,” You say, and you catch his huff of laughter through the line, “Didn’t have to think. Was watching something before you rudely interrupted.”

“Mm, that right? You gonna tell me what?” He pokes, though he’s sure that he already knows your answer.

“Our video.” You admit, biting your bottom lip in expectation after you say it.

“Yeah? You like seeing yourself get fucked?” He snickers, “Favorite part about that video is when you start creamin’ on me. Makes me cum every time,” You hear the sound of the gearshift clicking into place, “‘M home.”

“Get your ass in this bed before I die.”

“Dramatic much?”

You say nothing else and wait for him to come discover you, naked in your shared bed. When he opens the door, your eyes flick over him in unadulterated lust.

He has his phone pressed to his ear, and yours is still on speaker. It echoes through the room when he says, “More perfect than I could ever fuckin’ imagine.”

You giggle and tap the end call button, and watch as he already starts unbuttoning his shirt, not even finishing the job before he starts crawling onto the bed with you. Approaching you like a predator, prey laid out sweetly beneath him. His fingers waste no time trailing up your thigh, not stopping until he can cup your sex with one big hand.

“Can’t wait to make you my wife and have this pussy for all of fuckin’ eternity,” He murmurs, leaning down to kiss on the soft and heated skin of your neck, “You wanna be mine forever?”

“Already am.” You whisper to him.