Boyfriends

what's wrong with my boss!?

pro-hero!boss!bakugou x fem!assistant!reader

LOVETREATS .ᐟ navi. bnha m.list.

content .ᐟ think "what's wrong with secretary kim?" (sorta) but with this blond menace, ur his personal secretary, he's annoying, he's a yearner, you don't notice shit, kirishima knocks some sense into him, pretty fluffy, did i mention he's a yearner? you two argue, reader is 27 ? bakugou is 29 ? #idk oh also swearing, ur both awks but its part of the plan trust

word count .ᐟ 5.7k+

you’ve been working as bakugou’s personal assistant for as loooong as you could remember.

when you first applied, you were ecstatic! you managed to snag an extremely high paying job with little problems. it honestly felt like it was too good to be true.

… well, it sort of was.

you knew that bakugou was hard to deal with—it was always apparent in the few interviews he had with tv hosts, reporters, and especially with paparazzi. but you thought that it was probably because he disliked the fact that most of them always tried to get their hands on some information in his private life. he rarely attends events, and if he did, it was only an extremely short appearance—so naturally a lot of people, including you, thought that he was just an extremely reserved person.

and sure, he has a temper, and he is a reserved person, but he’s also just. quite hard to deal with. more than you thought he would be.

he wanted everything to be organized, he wanted you to be extremely organized. he expects you to know all the specifics of his work life: all of the events and interviews and meetings and photoshoots and whatnot. when and where, why do it in the first place, who will be in the same room as him, how long do you estimate it’ll take, take care of the ones that he deems “unnecessary”, etc.

at first you thought you were doing everything right, but apparently it wasn’t good enough in his eyes. he told you off for getting certain information wrong (it was right, it just wasn’t as detailed as he wanted), he told you off when he had to attend a “stupid, unnecessary event” (it was a pro-hero ball), and he told you off when you couldn’t catch up with the amount of emails and calls (it was literally your first week on the job).

still, you stayed and put up with it all.

at first, you talked back because of your pride. after those moments, you would always go home crying and scared, thinking that you might’ve lost your job for good this time. but he never fired you, even when you called him an “ungrateful asshole” one time.

bit by bit, you just got used to it. you start to smile, nod, and apologize when you did something he didn’t like. it surprised him at first, and sort of bugged him, but he never told you about it. bit by bit, day by day, you would perfect his wants and needs with work, leaving him with nothing to complain about.

“oi, did you cancel that stupid ph—“

“did it yesterday, sir.”

“… the pro-hero meeting tod—“

“8:30am, the meeting will be about catching a group of villains that have started to cause more and more damage everywhere they go. i’ve asked deku’s secretary, and they’ve told me that the villains had some sort of power-up that’s made them stronger and more dangerous.”

“..? who am i meeting wi—“

“pro-heroes deku, shouto, red riot, pinky, uravity, mirko, ingenium, best jeanist, lemillion, phantom thief, cellophane, and grand.”

he just stares at you after that. his eyes bore into you, but you paid him no mind. you continued fixing his schedule for the week and answering some emails. he blinks once, he blinks twice, and he blinks another couple of times before grumbling to himself.

“anything else, sir?” you ask without looking at him, busy with typing away on your laptop for the report he wanted done by 2:00pm. the only reply you got was him opening and closing the door.

and this was how your days would usually go. your short replies were either met with grunts or closed doors instead of the fighting the two of you were once used to.

but you started noticing something.

he’d make coffee for two instead of one, making sure that the other cup was just right, just to your liking. he would tell you to ‘take a damn break’ more often than not. he would walk you to your car and would watch you leave the parking area from the side before going in his own vehicle. he would ask for your advice on more things than before, and most of the time, it’s the one he’d always go with. when there’s events, he would always make sure you’re there as his plus one (and in these cases, he stays longer than he usually would).

but you never really put more thought in it. you just assumed he was more lax now because you knew how to do the job right in his standards, and this is him being grateful that he didn’t need to waste more time arguing with you and correcting your mistakes.

you never really thought about finding another job or even just taking a long vacation, until one of your friends mentioned how you rarely went out and would always be busy with work. well, they always do, it’s just this time it… made you think.

“c’mooooon! just this once! and you don’t even have work tomorroooow!” one of your friends cried as she shook your right arm. you sighed and tilted your head, thinking.

they were right. every day your only focus was to ensure that the work you did was to bakugou’s standards. every day you ensured to be the very best out of spite and for that sweet, sweet paycheck. but… you didn’t live. you didn’t party, didn’t go to clubs, and you barely go out for dinner with your friends.

“we should go out and meet some people! you’re 27, girl! we should be out and enjoying liiiife!”

you chuckle and playfully shove them away from your arm. “fine, fine. let’s go out tonight.”

you went on to buy a dress just for tonight, did your make-up and hair all pretty, and had a fucking blast with your friends at the club. you danced and danced and drank and drank, going back home when the sun was already up. sure, the morning after was unbearable and annoying, but you still had a ton of fun.

you wanted to live for fun rather than for work. you wanted to hang out more with your friends. hell, you wanted to travel the world! but you couldn’t do any of that if you were still going to be stuck as bakugou katsuki’s personal assistant. because every day, every waking moment, you would be focused solely on your work and nothing else, like a programmed machine that does not know anything but what was coded in it to do.

you didn’t want that anymore.

you have enough money, more than enough if we’re being real honest. if you want another job, you could probably go on and open a nice little book café. but working again was far from your concerns at the moment.

right now? it’s telling bakugou that you want to quit.

“what’s the event later tonight?” bakugou asks with crossed arms. he glances at you, quickly typing something on your laptop before pushing pushing your specs up on your nose.

“it’s a charity event, sir.”

“you’ll be with me f’ tonight,” bakugou states, like it’s a matter of fact.

you fidget with the buttons on the sleeve cuffs of your blazer, taking in a deep breath to mentally prepare yourself to break the news to bakugou.

“of course, sir. but tonight will be the last time i accompany you to such events.”

“huh? and why is that?” he asks with a raised brow.

here it goes. you stand up from your desk and walk over to him. you bow low and long, which made bakugou clench his hands into fists. he already had a feeling.

you stand up straight and look him dead in the eyes.

“i would like to quit as your personal assistant. i believe i’ve given more than enough of my time here. i will ensure that your next assistant will be able to manage everything according to your standards before i put in my notice.”

a moment of silence passed. you didn’t move or speak another word. another moment passed, and he still didn’t say anything. it was like time froze, and you started fidgeting with your fingers, feeling a drop of sweat drip from your forehead even in the cold room.

another stupid moment of silence passed and you felt antsy. he wasn’t saying anything, he wasn’t reacting. you didn’t know if he was mad or what, you couldn’t read him this time. he just stares at you blankly, not a single shift in his expression.

“… sir?”

“do you need a pay raise?”

now that just ticked you off.

“… no, sir, i don’t.” you say with a forced smile.

“ya know you can take a vacation, right?”

“yes, sir. but i’d like to try new things, too.”

“like?”

you try your hardest to maintain your professionalism, it honestly looked like you had that little angry emoticon on your forehead right now. you didn’t expect him to be so hardheaded about this, you assumed that he would shrug it off and tell you to ‘do whatever the fuck you want’. you didn’t understand why he was being so stubborn with this.

“i don’t understand why you need to know, sir.”

you swore you just saw his eye twitch.

“well, since yer still stayin’ to get another assistant—“

“a new assistant,” you interject.

he grumbles, his expression forming into a scowl. “—another assistant, why can’t you accompany me for future events?”

“that will be the new assistant’s role, sir.”

you could sense his growing frustration. it was obvious with his scowling expression, one of his legs jumping up and down over and over, and his arms crossed together tightly against his chest as he leaned back on his chair.

“i don’t want or need a new damn assistant!” he yells as he stands up and smacks his hands palms down on his wooden desk.

“well i! want! to live! my life!” you shout back, your tone was sharp, jabbing each word at him. you had one hand on your hip and the other on your chest, breaking away from the professionalism you tried to maintain so as to not turn this into a heated fight. well, too late! good god he was being more stubborn than usual and it felt irritating.

“i want to travel the world!—“

“take a damn vacation!”

“that’s not the point, oh my god!”

you pant slightly before covering your face behind your glasses with your hands. you took a moment to gather yourself, to bring back the ‘you’ that you worked so hard to create for this stupid job. you lost all of that in this moment, and it felt like the two of you reverted back to when it was all still new and fresh. the bickering and arguing and complaining—

“i want to live, sir. i want to enjoy life. i went out with my friends a couple days ago and it was fun—i hadn’t done that in years,” you chuckle dryly.

“in all these five years, i focused on my work; i focused on you.”

his eyes slightly widen, as if slowly realizing that you were right. you’ve always tended to everything that was related to him. he would sometimes notice that you would even sleep on your breaks. he didn’t bother with changing anything because you changed yourself for it, and because of that, you probably grew tired of it. tired of him.

you’ve spent five long years dedicated to him, and was too content with your presence to even realize that if you left, it would never be the same again. you knew everything about him, how he liked his coffee, how he liked to organize, how he liked to dress, how he liked to relax, his favorite food to calm him down, and even his favorite fucking shoe brand. but he barely knew anything about you. sure, he knew how to do your coffee, but that’s only because he watched you make it one time. you didn’t talk about your personal life, your feelings, when you were at work (it was work, after all).

but still, he felt like he took you for granted.

again, it was silent. neither of you broke it, your eyes were locked on each other as the both of you waited for the other to speak with bated breath. after a while, bakugou clicks his tongue and closes his eyes.

“do whatever the fuck ya want. ya don’t have to join me later tonight, go rest.”

you didn’t reply—not like he wanted to when he turned his attention back on the papers on his desk. you bowed your head before walking back to your own desk, already planning on putting up the role on a site to find good candidates to be bakugou’s assistant.

“what’s up with you, bro?” kirishima asks as he puts on arm around and on top of bakugou’s shoulder. the blond grumbles, his annoyance extremely apparent on his face, which made kirishima even more curious and concerned.

after yesterday, bakugou took a quick glance at his schedule and cancelled meetings for the day. he practically forced you to take the day off. he was due for patrol later tonight, so he, surprisingly, told kirishima to come over. he’s slowly regretting it.

“fuck off ‘f me,” he mutters with little venom in his tone, but still shrugging off the arm on his shoulder.

“is it your secretary?”

bakugou’s head whips around to face kirishima. he squints his eyes and, once again, scowls. kirishima sighs and pats his back. “c’mon, you can tell me.”

“… she wants t’ quit.”

kirishima accidentally pats his back a little too hard after hearing that. “OI!”

“sorry! sorry! i just—i didn’t expect that…,” kirishima says, smiling sheepishly and rubbing the nape of his neck.

“what did ya expect?” bakugou grumbles.

“y’know, you’re finally admitting to yourself that you like her.”

“what the fuck are ya talkin’ about!?” bakugou throws a cushion right to his face. kirishima lets out a slight yelp and pouts as he hugs the pillow

“bro, it’s obvious!”

“i don’t have any feelings for her, shitty hair,” he spat, glaring daggers at his red-haired best friend.

kirishima sighs deeply as he scratches the back of his head. “don’t you realize the only reason why she’s the only secretary you’ve had for so long is because she practically pushes through all of your bullshit? and because of that, you basically don’t have anything to complain about and have it as a reason to push her away.”

this is another one of those moments where kirishima would keep him grounded, where he’d talk some sense into him. for how proud bakugou can be, it blinds him too much sometimes and kirishima’s the only one who practically smacks him back into reality. kirishima knows that deep down, bakugou needs someone to ground him. he wasn’t as bad as he was when they were still students at UA, but he was still quite headstrong.

“you told me before again and again how personal assistants were too annoying to deal with because you already had your own way of handling things, but she was able to do it all and more.”

“the only reason i kept her around was because she knew how i worked. i don’t want to have to teach another new fuckin’ person my standards.”

“then tell her she should do it.”

“she already said she will.”

kirishima raised an eyebrow. “… then why are you so worked up over it?”

bakugou only grumbles, turning his head away from kirishima, as if feigning ignorance. kirishima had to hold back in a snort so as to not annoy the short-tempered man beside him.

“and you keep telling me you don’t like her, huh?”

bakugou doesn’t reply. kirishima sighs before standing up and walking over to the mini-fridge bakugou has in the living room. he grabs two beers and tosses the other one to bakugou. he catches it swiftly, opening it up with no hesitation. this practically proved to kirishima that he’s stressing out over losing you. he knows his friend more than enough to know that when he doesn’t complain of drinking ‘too early’, something is amiss.

“why don’t you go on and take her out to dinner?”

“are you fuckin’ insane—“

“just do it, man. go to a nice restaurant! you can do other stuff too, just tell her it’s your way of thanking her for those five years. you can’t exactly force her to stay, that’d be messed up. so just, y’know…,” kirshima shrugs. “show her how grateful you are.”

kirishima plops down beside bakugou and takes a big gulp of his beer. “no matter how much you wanna try to deny it, you like her. this is practically a wake up call for you to make a move on her before you lose her to someone else.”

“you fuckin’—“

“don’t try to deny it, man. i know that you know that i know you better than anyone else. it’s why you invited me over in the first place.”

bakugou doesn’t try to retort this time. he can’t, anyway, not when kirishima’s right.

“i’m—i’m sorry?”

“dinner. tonight.”

you blinked. you blinked again, and again. it’s been a few days after you announced that you’d be quitting. he was distant for a while too, so him telling you that he wanted to have dinner with you tonight obviously shocked you.

he just stares at you and waits. tick tock tick tock goes the clock. he clicks his tongue and turns his head away as he feels his embarrassment creeping up on him. “if you’re too busy or you just don’t wanna, that’s fine too.”

“no, it’s fine. i just, um, didn’t expect it from you… is it—is it work related?”

he fully turns away, making you look at his back. he was in full hero gear because he was going out for patrol for the afternoon. you quirk an eyebrow, confused enough with his sudden behavior, but your eyes widen when you realize his ears had a pinkish hue to them. ‘was he blushing?’ now this just made you even more confused.

“i wanted to thank ya for the five years… for puttin’ up with an asshole like me.”

the way he said it sounded different from how he usually is. it was like he was trying hard to find the right words with how he spoke slowly, deliberate. you’ve never heard, or even seen him, like this before. it was… endearing?

“ya don’t hafta find another assistant, i’d much rather work on this shit by myself.”

“i doubt you can. after all, you have been relying on me for the past five years.” it can be interpreted as you teasing him, but you also kinda did say it like it’s a fact. and, well, it is.

bakugou huffs, he was ready to retort, but stopped himself from doing so. he walked towards the door instead; he didn’t really want to ruin the mood today and for tonight, he’d rather just let you be.

“i’ll pick ya up at eight, go on ahead an’ clock out at two, there’s not much to do today anyway. that ‘nuff time for ya t’ get ready?”

you just hummed in response as you scroll through the list of candidates carefully. “it is.”

you were nervous. so nervous that you were ready two hours before the actual time of him picking you up. how could you not be nervous? he already told you that the dinner wasn’t work related. he wanted to thank you for your service, and yet it felt like something more was there. why else would he turn around as if he was embarrassed? as if he knew he wouldn’t be able to hide his feelings?

wait. his feelings? there shouldn’t be anything, right? it would be sudden anyway, you’re sure of it. that’s what you keep telling yourself as you scroll through your instagram account. one picture caught your attention: it was the one where he invited you to one of the events he attends for the first time. you smiled politely at the cameras with your hand on his bicep, it made you chuckle how awkward looking you looked back then. you didn’t think anything was odd when you first posted this, but when you inspected it once more… bakugou was looking at you.

your heart skipped a bea—

NO. no way. no fucking way. no shot.

you saw this picture before, but why did it feel different now?

you closed instagram and stood up from your couch, gently tossing your phone on it. you paced around the coffee table, arms crossed against your chest. you were probably just overthinking things, probably just overcomplicating shit for yourself. it didn’t mean anything, he probably just didn’t want to look at the cameras and they just got the perfect shot where he’s looking at you—

you grabbed your phone and plopped down on your couch with a heavy sigh. you opened instagram again, this time you were on his account. you scrolled through his pictures as you hug one of your cushions. this was insane. why were you scrolling through his instagram? it wasn’t like you were gonna find something else to feed your assumptions—

oh. one of his posts had a couple of pictures that were just you. you and no one else. all those pictures were of you laughing and smiling. this post was when there was a fun little event for agencies and their heroes and staff to have fun. the pictures weren’t all you, but there was enough that made your mind get all messed up with unrelenting thoughts.

but there was one post that nailed it in the coffin for you. it was one picture of the sunset, but on the bottom right of the photo, there was a silhouette of a woman. it was dark enough that it wasn’t obvious it was you, but you know it was.

the caption?

beautiful.

you closed out of the app.

why were you having assumptions anyway? it’s not like you like him in that way. you never really thought about it, too busy meeting with his demands. you never thought of him in any other way other than him being your boss, and why would you? he was a stubborn ass who always tried to find something to tell you off about. this shouldn’t change anything, it’s just dinner with him. it’s not like you haven’t eaten with him before. it’s just dinner.

nothing more, nothing less.

bakugou has never been this nervous his entire life. he didn’t know why he was nervous, it was just dinner with you. it’s not like this was any different from eating lunch with you at work. so why the hell did he feel so antsy? like he couldn’t shake this shit off of him.

(he knows why, but like you, he doesn’t want to admit it.)

he was parked right in front of your place. he taps on the steering wheel while he stares at your front door. he shakes his head after a few moments, grumbling incoherent words to himself. his mind suddenly goes back to all the things kirishima told him a few days ago, it was all repeating in his mind over and over again. he grits his teeth before clicking his tongue in annoyance, checking his wrist watch for the time.

7:58PM

he leans back on the headrest and closes his eyes as if to mentally prepare himself. what for? he doesn’t know (he’s scared he might look like a fool in front of you).

he gets out of his car and walks towards your front door, taking a moment before pushing the button on the intercom.

“who is it?”

“it’s me.”

not even a second later, you opened the door. and god you looked fucking gorgeous. you wore a pretty little black off-shoulder dress that went down below your knees, your hair was styled perfectly, and your make-up made you look like an angel. he liked how you still wore your glasses even when you dresses up all fancy and pretty.

“sir?”

he shakes his head slightly to snap back to reality. “bakugou. bakugou’s just fine. we aren’t at work anyway,” he states absentmindedly.

“you… you look nice. beautiful.” he murmurs before quickly turning away and walking towards his car. “c’mon.”

you follow him quietly, your fingers gently pushing up your glasses. the walk to his car felt way too long for some reason, long enough for you to shoot a glance at his ears, wanting to see if they changed to a certain hue. a corner of your lips quirked upwards when his ears were in fact, pink.

bakugou opens the passenger front car door for you, all the while avoiding eye contact. you thank him softly as you bend down to get in the car. you try to make yourself comfortable, fidgeting around the car seat as bakugou goes on to get in the driver’s seat.

“before we go on ahead, i wanted to… give you something…” this was the second time he talked slowly, hell you’d even say softly, to you. you were too busy staring at him that you didn’t notice him reaching out to open the glove compartment and taking out a dark red velvet box.

bakugou shows the box to you and opens it slowly. it was a bracelet—a ruby and diamond bracelet to be precise. it was intricately designed and it looked so delicate, so elegant. the rubies were cut like teardrops while the diamonds were cut rounder, six rubies circled around one diamond, forming a tiny flower. it repeats all around, and it danced around the warm light of the car, shimmering like the stars above. you couldn’t help but let out a gasp with one hand hovering over your mouth.

“sir—bakugou, you didn’t have to—“

“none of that shit.” he tutted as he gently grabs the bracelet out of the box. he motions for you to lift up your hand while he unclasps the bracelet. you can’t help but catch how bakugou katsuki looked small, which is probably an insane thing to say, but you couldn’t find any other word to describe how he looked right now.

he was waiting for you to lift up your hand, but his eyes still haven’t made contact with your own. you swear to yourself that he looked like he was pouting, in a sense. his shoulders slumped, his head slightly lowered, he looked as if he wanted to make himself look small. bakugou katsuki is a proud man who is sure of himself most of the time, so seeing him like this—so vulnerable and even shy, it was enough to surprise you.

you finally lift up your hand, palm facing upwards. he wordlessly snakes the bracelet around your wrist, fastening it with ease. he watches you admiring it; took note of your eyes getting bigger, even seemed like they were shining prettily.

after a moment, you finally looked at him, and thankfully this time, he doesn’t look away from you. he notices the shy smile forming on your face as you bow your head slightly. you opened your mouth and said:

“thank you…”

in the softest way imaginable.

he mumbles a ‘yer welcome’ as he turns the keys to his car, letting it start to life.

he drove for about thirty minutes, and the whole ride was slightly awkward, but bearable. bakugou put all his focus on the road, and you were just looking out without really thinking of a way to start a new conversation with him—not that he minded all that much. when you finally arrived, he told you to stay put when he saw you gathering yourself to get out the car. he quickly gets out and speed walked his way to your car door, stretching out a hand for you to take.

now you’re the one who keeps avoiding his eyes.

you take his hand and get out, clutching your purse tightly as a way to ground yourself to what’s happening. though you’re out of the car, he hasn’t let go of your hand, he actually holds it tighter as he led you to the restaurant.

it was so quiet between the two of you now. silence wasn’t all that uncommon, you would be too busy focusing on your work to talk to him, and he’d be busy with his own. when you managed to practically surprise him with how well you work as his personal assistant, everything was peaceful. the only time it went back to the way it was was when you told him of your plans of quitting.

but it was back to quiet after that. the one the two of you were more than familiar with. but this quiet? this silence? it’s different, it has tension.

bakugou talks with the host for the reservation he made for the both of you, your hand still in his grasp. after a few moments, the host tells the both of you to follow them so they can lead the way.

the host leads you to your table which was located pretty deep into the area. it was much more secluded, something bakugou would definitely pick out. the host tells you to take your seats while they go and get two menus for your table.

“where d’ya wanna sit?”

“anywhere’s fine,” you murmur, too busy with gawking at how your table looks so pretty and different from the others. the cloth had a different type of fabric that had all sorts of intricate patterns sewn on it. the table mats were rectangular in shape, with flowers sewn in on the corners. to the plates, the glasses, even the flowers that sat prettily on the center of the table seemed to you as if this was all meticulously planned.

or maybe you’re just thinking too much into it again—

“if you’re wonderin’ why our table is different… i made a request,” bakugou ushers you to walk towards the seat in front of you. he pulls the chair back, lifting it slightly so as to not make a sound, motioning for you to sit down with a tilt of his head. you walk in front of him, bending down as he pushes the chair gently towards you.

“looks like you put a lot of thought into it.” you watch him walk around the table to sit down in front of you.

“i did. wanted ya to like it,” he says as he sits down.

“so… do you?” he looks at you with eyes that tell you ‘i hope you do’. he looked like he was a little nervous to hear what you think. you smile and nod your head and watch him exhale, as if he’d forgotten how to properly breathe. how come he's become easier to read now?

“here are the menus,” the host pops up from behind you and hands the both of you menus. they guide you with the dishes within the menu and mention their specials to help you out with what you want to order. after a few more moments, they leave you in the hands of a server.

“order anythin’ ya like, alright?”

dinner was… surprisingly nice.

bakugou made it clear before, and way more clear now that this dinner wasn’t about him trying to get on your good side to get you to stay as his personal assistant. all of this was simply because he wanted to.

while eating, he asked you about your plans, and he listened carefully. you went on to tell him about the book café you’d been planning, but with no plans of rushing in to it. your first goal was to explore, live life to the max; travel to different countries and party to your heart’s content. he didn’t reply much, but he made sure that you knew he was listening with how he kept looking at you.

time passed by like it was nothing. the appetizer was good, the main meal was delicious, the desert made you feel like you were in heaven with how light it felt in your mouth. the two of you kept chatting on (mainly you) until you needed to leave.

there was one thing you noticed before leaving the restaurant.

when the two of you stood up from you chairs, bakugou walked around the table and right towards your side. he tried to subtly eye your hand, and you watched him as he stretched out his own before telling you to follow him out. you almost wished he took your hand in his.

now back in his car, he wasted no time in starting up the car and drove away from the restaurant. you closed your eyes and leaned your head against the headrest of your seat, trying to process everything that happened tonight. you couldn’t help but admit that you did enjoy it, every single thing. from the bracelet, to the arranged table, to the food, to how attentive he was to you…

“hey, you okay?”

his voice snaps you back to reality, making you immediately open your eyes. you turn to look at him and chuckle softly.

“i am, don’t worry.”

bakugou let out a long exhale, like he was relieved.

“did ya… enjoy it?”

you turned your head away to face the window, smiling to yourself as you watch buildings and city lights pass by.

“i did, a lot.”

the rest of the ride was silent, only broken through once bakugou suggested that you play some music. even with the melodies, the both of you were still quiet. but it wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward, it was… nice. good.

arriving at your place, bakugou still didn’t miss the chance to go and open the car door for you. he walks you to your front door, hands in his pockets and his head hanging low. you glanced at him, and he looked as if he was deep in thought. his brows were slightly furrowed together, and his lips formed a small pout. how cute…

“bakugou?”

“yeah?”

he turns his head to look at you, there wasn’t anything special about it, he was only looking at you like how he was earlier, but—

you think it made your heart flutter.

“thank you, for tonight. i… i really appreciate it.”

he merely shrugs in response, but you can see how shy he is. the pink hue on the tips of his ears, his back was slightly slouched, and that pout still wasn’t wiped off of his face. he really was just wearing his heart out on his sleeve.

you walk towards him, inching closer bit by bit. your hands were behind your back, clutching your purse. you murmur for him to lean down slightly, and he does so with no hesitation. you whisper for him to take care, and before he knew it, you kissed his cheek and ran away, unlocking your door quickly and closing it with a SLAM!

what the fuck just happened?

all rights reserved © LOVETREATS. all fanfics belong to me. do not repost or claim my content as yours. do not recommend on any other platforms any of the works seen here.

I loved your boxer good can we get boxer gojo in jealousy pleaseeee😭❤❣

hehe ofc bb<3 jealous boxer!gojo it is.. part 1 part 2

boxer!gojo who gets jealous way too easily. he sees the way the other fighters look at you—his sports therapist, his girl. sees the way they grin when you tape their hands, the way they lean in when you check their injuries. and he fucking hates it. "bet they like having your hands all over ‘em, huh?" he mutters, voice low and dangerous.

you roll your eyes, used to his possessive streak. "it’s my job, satoru." but that’s not good enough. because right now, his job is making sure you remember exactly who you belong to.

boxer!gojo who fucks you against the locker room mirror, making you watch. "see that?" he pants, one hand gripping your throat, the other pushing your legs apart. "no one else gets to touch you like this. no one." his hips snap into you hard, deep, stretching you open until you can barely stand.

you whimper, hands pressed against the mirror, and he leans in, smirking. "aw, baby—what, too much? you didn’t seem so shy when you had your hands all over those other guys."

boxer!gojo who makes you scream his name. "who’s fuckin’ you like this, huh?" he groans, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing slow and teasing circles. you choke on a moan, legs shaking, and he laughs, low and smug.

"c’mon, sweetheart. say it."

when you finally sob out his name, he rewards you with a bruising thrust, hips slamming against yours. "that’s right. mine."

boxer!gojo who doesn’t stop even when someone knocks on the door. "oi, gojo, you in there? fight starts in five!"

he grins against your neck, still rolling his hips. "guess i gotta make this quick, huh?" his fingers tighten around your throat, keeping you right where he wants you as he fucks you even rougher. "better cum before i do, baby—don’t wanna walk outta here with my cum drippin’ down your thighs, do ya?"

boxer!gojo who leaves you wrecked, trembling, completely fucked out. he kisses your jaw, smirking. "next time you touch another guy, remember this, yeah?" he fixes his shorts, winks, and heads out like he didn’t just ruin you.

and when he wins his fight that night, he points at you in the crowd, grinning. "that one was for my girl."

…because everyone in this arena should know who you really belong to.

RODEO STATION, 2 — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

A collection of you and Megumi through the years, through Gojo’s eyes. 

content, warnings: childhood friends to lovers, canon-adjacent, satoru adopts megumi and tsumiki, reader has a cursed technique sort of delved into here

word count: 2.2k

part ii: you and megumi are ten, tsumiki is eleven, gojo is twenty-ish?, about six or seven months after gojo meets all of you, and adopts megumi and tsumiki. you can read part one here

The moment that Satoru met him, he knew that Megumi was a little troublemaker and there was little he could do to stop that. Satoru didn’t mind for the most part, and he couldn’t blame the kid either—honestly, he was more surprised that Megumi didn’t routinely get himself into more trouble, but he supposes he has you and Tsumiki to thank for that. 

He’d naively believed that you and Tsumiki both played the role of anchoring maternal figure for Megumi, but it only takes a few weeks for Satoru to learn that it’s Tsumiki that serves as the anchor for you two. Satoru then earnestly wonders if you were bullying Megumi with the way you’re able to keep him under your thumb, but when Megumi adamantly refutes this with the nastiest, most offended scowl Satoru’s ever seen on a kid before, he backs off and reasons that this is just how your relationship with Megumi works.

And, as it turns out, Megumi is the only one doing any sort of bullying. He’s ten and Satoru has been to more parent-teacher conferences than any other parent has ever possibly attended in their lifetime. He didn’t even know that it was possible for kid his age to get kicked out of school, especially at this point in the year. There’s only three months left until summer vacation, so Satoru enlists Ieiri’s help in enrolling Megumi into public school to finish out fifth grade. She also reassures him that this separation from you and Tsumiki is temporary, and that you would all be able to attend middle school together again in the fall. 

The major problem then becomes that you all get dismissed at different times. You and Tsumiki used to end your days at the same time, but Tsumiki starts staying late to take piano lessons. However, this is remedied by the mother of a friend of Tsumiki’s, who drives her home afterwards; an older woman that Satoru becomes eternally grateful for. Even so, you’re dismissed thirty minutes before Megumi, and some shuffling has to be done to align your commutes. Satoru knows that the three of you took yourselves to and from school before he came into the picture, and that most kids your age are more than capable getting home on their own, but after you told him that some old man from the Kamo clan came to talk to you after school one day, he can’t help but to worry. 

Satoru isn’t your guardian, not in the way that he is for Megumi and Tsumiki, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t feel responsible for you—morally, financially, emotionally, and more importantly, for his own safety because he knows he’d have both Divine Dogs biting at his ankles if something curse-related happened to you and he didn’t do anything to stop it. 

You were currently under the care of your elderly great aunt who hadn’t a shred of cursed energy from what Satoru could tell. He had Principal Yaga do a background check, and found no other sorcerers in your immediate family, nor any traceable Kamo relatives, and more importantly, you didn’t possess any sort of Blood Manipulation technique. Satoru’s seen what you can do so far to control water, has even seen you give the Divine Dogs trouble in a gentle sparring match—you’re impressive, even at your young age, so he can understand why a powerful clan might see the potential in you, but the Kamo clan isn’t historically welcoming of outsiders. If you’re not related to them, he can’t fathom why any member would physically approach you. 

The old man never revealed his name to you, but Satoru’s certain it’s either a clan elder, or the current head himself; neither of which bring him any comfort. In the spirit of their traditional ways, he doubts anyone would actually try to harm you out in the open, but Satoru still wants to keep you on close watch for a little while. He thinks he’s the best man for the job. He’s quickly proven otherwise. 

He exorcises curses with a bit of hastiness and little tact in order to be there when you get dismissed from school. Ieiri says it’s creepy to follow you from a distance, but Satoru is just doing what he can to protect you. If somebody else is following you, he wants to see who they are. They’ll never approach or reveal themselves if he hovers next to you, and if you half the pride that Megumi has, you’d run him out of town if he ticked you off by playing overprotective big brother—so, instead, he positions himself far enough away to observe you, and close enough to defend if need be. 

He never needs to. 

For as wild and boisterous as you are with Megumi and Tsumiki, you follow a simple, quiet after school routine. You walk with Tsumiki and her friends to the west gate to drop them off at piano practice, then cross the street to buy a snack—this differs, but you always get a carton of strawberry milk—and then walk to the train station. It’s a ten minute walk from your school to the station, and a fifteen minute walk from Megumi’s school to the station, which is why Satoru doesn’t quite know how the kid manages to keep you waiting for only seven minutes on average when he already gets out of school thirty minutes after you. 

Once he gets over the initial shock, he can’t help but to be amused. He knows that when Megumi first changed schools, he started meeting you on the train, two stops later—at the one closer to his new school. But in the last week, Megumi has walked himself seventeen blocks east, at what Satoru guesses must be an inhuman pace, just to meet you at the station closest to you. 

When two weeks have passed since the unknown Kamo elder has contacted you, and no other incidents have occurred, Satoru resigns his position as perimeter watchdog. He has a bunch of missions to catch up on anyway, and he figures that you and Megumi are safe in each other’s care for now. 

A few weeks later, after catching up on his assignments, Satoru decides to check back in. He knows he doesn’t have to, but something in his stomach is telling him to. Maybe it has to do with the fact that the curse he fought earlier today had some kind of toxic blood that has him thinking the worst could happen to you, or getting a call that Megumi had been cutting some of his classes, or that he’s tired and delusional and worried and scared, or maybe it’s just his blooming maternal instincts telling him something is wrong, but he rushes to spy on your commute home. 

He’s late. Megumi isn’t with you, and you’re already on the train when he makes it to the station and he can sense two sources of cursed energy trailing way too close behind you just as the train doors shut. His mind is racing irrationally—is this an unusual move by the Kamo clan, or perhaps someone else? Word had certainly gotten around that he’d picked up Toji Fushiguro’s kid, plus another kid with immense cursed potential, and Satoru himself and the Gojo clan have more than enough enemies. Whatever it may be, he doesn’t take his chances, using his newly honed short-range teleportation skills to make it to the next station before the train can. 

He’s panting, thinking about every worst possible scenario at once, wondering how to best deal with whoever or whatever was targeting you, especially in such a crowded place, wondering if you’re safe, if Megumi was safe—why wasn’t he with you? Has someone already gotten to him, too? Was Tsumiki even at piano practice? Oh god, if he hasn’t already been kidnapped, Megumi is totally going to kill him if something happens to you. 

Satoru rushes onto the train as soon as the door opens, eyes wildly scanning for you through the crowd, ready to strike when he finally finds you—seated towards the back of the car, reading the book that Tsumiki had loaned to you, quietly, and both the black and white Divine Dogs sitting on either side of you. 

And Satoru has to laugh at himself. If he’d stopped for even a moment (or if he’d gotten more than two hours worth of sleep in the past three weeks trying to make up all his assignments), he’d have recognized Megumi’s residuals, would have recognized the energy of the dogs, and would have pieced together that there wasn’t a single threatening aura in the vicinity. 

Oopsies. 

“Gojo?” you call to him, not too loud as to not to disturb everyone else’s commute. “How come you’re here?” 

Satoru shuffles through the crowd and holds onto the overhead rail once he’s next to you. The white dog moves to settle underneath your short legs, blinking at him with disinterest. “Got off a little early today, thought I’d surprise you brats, that’s all,” he says, then motions to the dogs next to you, “Where’s Megumi?” 

You blink at him. Satoru knows you probably don’t believe him, but you spare him the embarrassment when you don’t push it further. “He had to make up a credit today, so he’s getting on at the next stop. Do you want a sandwich? They only had ones with peppers today, so Megumi won’t eat it, but Mr. Teuchi gave me two, anyway.” 

“What, is he allergic or something?” Satoru questions, accepting your offer, and the seat next to you when he starts to unwrap the sandwich. 

“No, he’s just picky,” you tell him, closing your book to unwrap yours, too. You’re quiet, taking your first two bites, before you turn to him again, “How did you know Megumi was missing?”

Satoru chokes. It gains him a few concerned stares, and even a pointed ear from the black dog, before he regains his composure. “Um... he tells me usually he follows you home from the other stop, that’s why.” 

“Then why didn’t you try to surprise us at the other stop?”

Satoru pauses again. Since when did ten year olds get so lippy and observant? “I did, but I was late. So I sort of,” Satoru leans down, crinkling the empty sandwich wrapper in his right hand and uses his left to beckon you towards him to whisper, “Teleported here.” He pulls back, prideful, and crosses his legs, “Pretty cool, right?” 

“So, why didn’t you just teleport to the first station when you realized you were going to be late?” You question, mocking his whispering tone when you repeat the word. 

“Hey, you think doing that kind of stuff comes automatically? I can’t just pop up anyplace at any time,” Satoru groans, a bit overdramatically, “Not yet, anyway. I’ll be able to do that soon.” 

You hum, kicking your legs happily as you take another bite out of your snack. “I think I get it. Megumi says it’s hard spreading out and controlling your cursed energy over long distances, but he’s been practicing hard. He can send the dogs way far away from him now.” 

“I see,” Satoru turns his chin down, eyeing the Divine Dogs with a gentle smile. He almost says that it’s easier to send shikigami on their own, especially those like Megumi’s, and particularly when you anchor them to another source of cursed energy such as yourself, but you look way too proud of Megumi for him to burst your bubble. He also declines to say that Megumi probably doesn’t send the dogs to you on days like this just for the sake of practicing. 

A crush isn’t quite exactly the motivation Satoru pictured when he told Megumi he’d have to work hard and get strong, but whatever works, works. 

Ten minutes later, the train comes to a steady halt. Megumi is the first new passenger on board, and unlike Satoru, he doesn’t need to turn his head wildly, every which way to find you. You’re like a beacon to Megumi, he easily finds the both of you in the last seats in the car, and steadily makes his way to you. 

Megumi greets you before he greets Satoru, taking the seat across and facing you before he turns to the taller man with a much less receptive frown, “What are you doing here?” 

“I believe the word you’re looking for is hello, Megumi,” Satoru teases, reaching across to ruffle his already unruly hair. Megumi grumbles, batting his offending hand away.

“Gojo ate your sandwich,” you chirp. 

“What?” Satoru yells, incredulous, “I did not. You gave it to me—tell him!” 

You have much more fun watching Satoru scramble than defending his honor. It’s only when Satoru gives his best pout that you admit to Megumi that you offered up his sandwich, consoling him with the fact that it included his least favorite ingredient and making it up by pulling out two cartons of strawberry milk for him. Megumi accepts them both with quiet thanks, cheeks growing pink to match the cartons, and you smiling widely when he takes his first sip. 

Satoru had a hunch those were for Megumi. So, this isn’t one-sided. Good for you kids. 

It’s another twenty-six minutes before it’s time for you all to get off the train. The Gojo-Fushiguro residence and your great aunt’s house are in opposite directions, but are both just a short five minute journey from the station exit. One you can certainly make on your own, and still, Megumi insists that you let the dogs walk with you and that he’ll release them once you’re home. 

“It’s good practice,” Megumi mumbles, shooing you on your way uphill, “I want to know how long I can keep them out, too.” 

You have that same look on your face that you had earlier, like you don’t quite believe Megumi, but just as with earlier, you don’t say anything, sparing Megumi and Satoru a formal goodbye and a wave before heading home. Satoru and Megumi turn to walk back to their own house, he can’t help but to smile every time Megumi turns his head to look back at your silhouette. 

Satoru decides that you’re not Megumi’s anchor, you’re the lighthouse that guides him to shore, a light that he follows with faith and reason; a safe haven that Megumi seeks to protect. Satoru can admire that, but he wonders what happened that could make the most unruly kid he knows pledge his allegiance like that. Megumi would have refused Satoru’s aid if he hadn’t agreed to let you stay in his life, and although he’d chalked it up to puppy love before, Satoru’s beginning to wonder if there’s anything he, or anyone, even could do to separate the two of you. 

Likely not, he concludes, when two weeks later, your class goes on a field trip and Megumi is the one who comes home exhausted and crashes onto the couch immediately. When Satoru asks, all he gets is a tired grunt; but shortly after Megumi falls asleep, he can feel a few extra shadows at his feet, and a glimpse of the white dog before she completely vanishes into the darkness. 

Satoru chuckles, leaning down to ruffle Megumi’s hair before heading to the kitchen to make a snack for Tsumiki. If this is the rate that Megumi trains to keep his loved ones protected, then Satoru has no worries about him getting strong enough to keep up with him.

All Mine｡°✩ Bakugou Katsuki

Masterlist ୨ৎ

is it normal for a tinder hookup to invite you to his birthday party? only one way to find out.

.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒

Glitter 𐔌 𐦯 : happy birthday Katsuki!! you guys voted for this on the poll (Sorry if you were expecting smut... but I cringe at myself attempting to write it so suggestive is all you get), enjoy!

Warnings : VERY SUGGESTIVNESS so minors beware (nothing explict but still), Female!Reader, modernAU, aged-up, drinking, mention of drugs, classic Bakugou warnings

W/C : 3k

.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊

[10:37 PM] B: you got plans tmrw

B is Bakugou Katsuki. The guy you've been enjoying lately. To say the least.

You met in the classic way—late-night Tinder, you feeling lonely and a little reckless. He had only one picture—a sharp jawline, messy blond hair, and not much else to go off. But he looked good. Really good. So, feeling lucky, you swiped right.

Match. Instantly.

He messaged first. You messaged back. Five minutes later, you were making plans to meet at a bar downtown. All you could hope for was that he wasn’t a catfish, and that getting dressed up wouldn’t be for nothing.

It definitely wasn’t.

You barely spent time at the bar. Most of the night was spent tangled up at your place. And that’s kind of how it went from there—he’d text, you’d text back. He’d come over, he’d leave. That was the thing. Sometimes you’d text first—on the nights you were feeling extra needy, craving hot hands and hungry lips.

You didn’t even know much about him. Just his name, his major, and the sounds he makes when he’s close. You didn’t think of him as much else. Didn’t let your mind drift into soft little daydreams about who he might be outside of your bedroom. What he was like with friends, what music he listened to, what kind of kid he was in high school.

Because Bakugou Katsuki didn’t seem like that kinda guy. There was nothing lovey-dovey about him. Just low curses and hard thrusts. 

So this message? Felt different.

For one—you never made plans. That wasn’t how this thing worked.Just heat-of-the-moment, spur-of-the-night kind of energy.

And two—it wasn’t even his usual type of text. He didn’t ask. He told. Normally, it was a blunt little “im comin over”—not a question, but something close to a courtesy. A way of saying: I’m giving you the out, if you want it.

You scroll back at your texts these past few months and see the same pattern over and over, this one sticking out like a sore thumb from the rest. 

[10:40 PM] You : idk. 

[10:40 PM] You : why

Does he notice the difference, too? The pause in your rhythm. The hesitation. Why does it matter if he does?

[10:42 PM] B : im having a party tmrw

[10:42 PM] B : or my flatmate is 

[10:42 PM] B : u should come

You stare at the screen for a second, not sure if you’re more confused or just… surprised. Not that it matters.

The read receipt doesn’t faze him. He doesn’t even wait for a response. Just sends the address, followed by a quick “starts at 7. let me know if ur coming and il order an uber.”

You don’t reply.

You don’t reply, because this isn’t part of the unspoken deal that you are familiar with. And maybe he just wants a pretty girl to stand near the drinks, someone to make the party pictures look good. Because Bakugou Katsuki is probably nothing more than an asshole. Probably. 

~~~

Maybe curiosity really does kill the cat. Because somehow, you decide to go.

You never reply to him, leave him to conclude that the silence means no, you idiot, I only want you for one thing. But against your better judgement, you pull something skimpy on and brace yourself for what's to come, because you are curious.

You want to see where he lives. Who he likes. What he looks like when he’s out of his element. You want to see if it all matches the version you've been playing in your head. The version you’ve carefully constructed while you’ve kept things simple, kept it just about the physical.

But you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of thinking you’re actually going to show up. So, you leave him hanging, go radio silent, and step out at 10 PM. Plus a glass of wine or two before you leave—just enough to make the shyness a little easier to ignore.

The alcohol burns nice in your veins… for a bit, until you’re standing outside the apartment door and the cold air cuts right through you, sobering you up fast.

At least you know it’s the right address, because you can hear the light thumping of bass and loud voices from out here (Not Bakugou’s though, but what would he even sound like loud, all you know is the low rough murmurs as he-). No turning back now. Not because you feel good about this decision, but because it’s freezing and your dress is doing absolutely nothing. So, you knock. Lightly.

And no one answers. Obviously. It’s a party, and half the people inside are probably too drunk or too distracted to notice. And none of them know who the hell you are anyway, so it’s not like anyone’s waiting at the door.

You check the handle. It turns. It’s open.

So, you step inside.

And it hits—hard. Like sensory overload dialed to ten. The place is decked out top to bottom, barely recognizable as a regular apartment. Streamers, lights, drinks in every corner. And before you can even take it all in, your eyes land on the handmade banner slapped across the wall: Happy Birthday Katsuki!

You don’t even need to ask. A quick glance around says it all—loud and clear.

There are old photos strung up along the walls, clipped to fairy lights that flicker unevenly. Most of the pictures are clearly from childhood—blond hair, scowling even as a toddler, surrounded by messy frosting and crooked party hats. One’s shows him mid-scream, cake all over his face. It’s kind of cute. Kind of surreal. Because this is his party.

It’s Bakugou’s birthday.

And he invited you to his birthday party?

You scan the room again, sharper this time. The place is crowded, but not enough to lose someone like him. And he’s not here. That heavy, sinking feeling creeps into your chest.

Maybe he invited someone else.

Maybe when you didn’t text back, he moved on, picked another warm body to fill the space. It wouldn’t be crazy. It wouldn’t be wrong. You don’t owe each other anything, and that’s the whole point of this thing—or at least it was. But still, the thought lands heavy, makes something sour churn low in your gut. Makes your throat go tight in that way you hate.

You swallow it down, hard.

You’re already halfway through turning around, ready to slip back out before you embarrass yourself any further, when a voice cuts through the noise. One you don’t recognize, but it says your name like it knows you.

It’s coming from a big, beefy redhead, cheeks flushed pink from alcohol, smile wide and boyish like he’s genuinely thrilled to see you. There’s this urgent sparkle in his eyes, and for a second you’re stuck wondering how the hell does he know your name.

“You’re here! Oh my god, I can’t believe you’re actually here,” he laughs, loud and booming and way too happy.

Before you can say anything, he’s placing a warm, heavy hand on your shoulder, “Hey, let me take your jacket. I’m Kirishima, by the way! Don’t think we’ve met yet.”

And you just… let him. Because honestly, you can’t think of anything else to do. You shrug your jacket off, hand it over, and he somehow manages to wedge it onto an already overflowing coat rack like it’s no big deal.

“Katsuki is…” he glances around, squinting into the crowd, “—well, I think he already snuck off somewhere. Classic. Gets sick of his own birthday halfway through every year.”

He laughs again, easy and fond, like that’s something everyone should know. Like you’re part of the group that gets Bakugou Katsuki.

And when it’s clear you’re not going to laugh with him—that you’re not in on the joke—he shifts, scratching the back of his neck, the flush on his cheeks deepening.

“Let’s get you a drink, yeah? Before Katsuki finds out you’re here and steals you away.”

Then he’s already turning, guiding you through the tangle of bodies toward the kitchen. You follow, trying not to overthink that last part. Steals you away. Like you’re some prize Bakugou might casually claim.

Does everyone think you’re just a body to him? And would that really be so bad… if it meant he’d picked you?

Fuck you need that drink. You toss the first one back the second it’s in your hand—barely tastes like anything, just cold and sharp. Kirishima lets out a loud laugh, already reaching to pour you another like it’s a challenge. As he talks, he’s all bright chatter—rambling about how annoying the setup was, how they almost didn’t get enough booze. He asks when your birthday is like it’s just part of the conversation, like none of this is weird.

He’s mid-sentence when someone interrupts—a blond, all pretty eyes and glazed-over smile, leaning in over Kirishima’s shoulder like he’s got zero sense of personal space. Drunk, maybe high. Definitely nosy, not that Kirishima seems to mind anyway. 

“Who’s the pretty girl, Ei?” he slurs, trying for a smirk that doesn’t quite land.

Kirishima just laughs, easily wrapping an arm around the guy to steady him. “This is Bakugou’s girl, bro. Back off.”

The blond seems as thrown by that as you are. Bakugou’s girl? Since when?

“Wait… I thought she wasn’t coming,” he frowns, looking a little too disappointed. “That’s why Bakubro was being extra mean to me today…”

You expect Kirishima to jump in with something. But instead, he just gives you this look—his brows raised slightly, an expectant glint in his eyes, like he's silently nudging you to explain yourself too. 

“Oh, um…” You twist uncomfortably under their gazes, feeling the weight of the attention. “I didn’t think I’d be able to, but… I am here now, so…” You shrug, the words feeling clumsy even to you.

Kirishima just watches you, his expression blank, and you get the sense that he’s not exactly thrilled with your answer—or with your whole last-minute appearance. Blondie, on the other hand, pouts deeper, his voice laced with a hint of teasing frustration. “Well, I would’ve preferred if you came before the beer pong… He was so aggressive with it…”. Kirishima gives the guy a playful pat on the head in response, a silent gesture that seems to acknowledge the comment without words.

This whole interaction has you itching to find Bakugou, to see why everyone’s been expecting you, why his flatmate seems annoyed by your absence. And, of course, to catch a glimpse of his handsome face too. “Where’s the birthday boy? I haven’t been here before, so…”

At the mention of Bakugou, Kirishima’s energy shifts, his enthusiasm returning like flipping a switch. “Let me show you,” he says, peeling Denki off his shoulder with a gentle but firm hand. “Denks, drink some water, okay?” Kirishima adds, his tone casual but with a hint of concern, before turning back to you to lead you back through the crowd. 

Eventually, Kirishima stops in front of a hallway door, turning back to give you a quick grin. “He’s probably hiding out in there,” he says, giving the door a casual knock. “Don’t be too shocked, though. He’s a little… cranky tonight.” He flashes you one last smile before turning and walking away, leaving you standing there at the door.

You push the door open, silently wishing you will either find him inside alone, or not at all. 

The room is dimly lit, the faint glow of string lights hanging lazily in the corners, old posters covering the walls. The scent of cigarette smoke lingers in the air, mixing with the faint buzz of the party from down the hall. Your eyes scan the room, searching for him, and that's when you see him: Bakugou, slouched in a chair by the window, arms crossed over his chest.

He doesn’t seem to notice you at first, too caught up in his own world. You can’t help but watch him for a moment, noticing the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw tightens slightly as he breathes in. You hesitate for a moment, but before you can second-guess yourself, his voice breaks the silence.

"Didn't think you'd actually show," he mutters, his gaze still locked on the window, his tone rougher than usual.

"You didn’t tell me it was your birthday," you say, unmoving from your place at the door.

He doesn’t respond right away, his silence thick in the air between you. The seconds stretch on, but then, slowly, he turns to face you. His brow furrows, lips curling into something between a frown and a smirk, but it’s his eyes that catch you off guard. They’re wide, not shy, but hungry, tracing your frame with an intensity that makes the space between you feel smaller than it is.

"Come closer," he demands, voice low, almost challenging. "I want a better look at you."

You hate how easily you obey, the words pulling you forward like a magnet. Until finally, you’re close enough that the air between you feels thick, charged. His legs caging your own as you stand between them. 

He doesn't move, not yet, but you feel the weight of his gaze, steady and intense. And when his hands finally find your waist, it’s almost a relief. Almost. They tug you forward, pulling you down onto his lap with a quiet but unmistakable force.

You try to steady yourself, to regain control, but his grip tightens just enough to remind you who’s in charge here. You swallow hard, your pulse quickening at the feel of his body so close to yours.

"Is this how you like it?" His voice is rougher now, darker, a question more than anything else.

“You know how I like it.” 

He lets out a dry chuckle, the sound rough. "Damn right," he mutters, his hands sliding through your hair, fingers pulling roughly at your scalp, forcing your eyes to meet his. You hold in the quiet noise already threatening to come out from the treatment. 

"I was pissed when you didn’t reply," he says, his gaze burning into yours. “Told everyone my girl was coming, even helped Shitty hair with putting the decks up, got the good drinks too. But you didn’t show.”

His grip on your waist tightens, pulling you in just a little closer, the light scent of alcohol on his breath. "Do you always keep people waiting?" he asks, his voice rougher now, low and almost a growl. "Or was this just for me?"

You hate how his words vibrate through you, how you have to resist the temptation to press your legs together while spread out on his lap, refusing to let him feel the impact of his own words. “But what is it you want from me, Katsuki?” You breathe out, close enough now to see his eyes flash at the name change. “I thought this was just sex, and now you’re inviting me to your birthday party and getting pissy when I don’t show... Is meeting your friends part of the deal now, too?”

“You think this is just sex?” he says, voice rougher now, like he’s testing the words himself. “You think I don’t hate walking away every time? That I haven’t thought about just… staying? Not leaving for once. Keeping you.” A beat. “Keeping you as mine?”

Your breath catches.

“Katsuki… then why didn’t you just ask?” you whisper. “Instead of always running off.”

“Never the right fuckin’ time,” he mutters, his fingers brushing the side of your face, his touch unexpectedly gentle. “You were always either sleeping or too fucked out to hold a conversation. And you... you sure know how to make a guy nervous Angel.”

You blink. “I make you nervous?”

His hand moves to the back of your neck, his grip tightening just enough to pull you closer, “You think I do this often?” His laugh is low, a little dry, but there’s a sincerity to it that catches you off guard. “I downloaded Tinder as a fuckin’ joke. But when I saw your face... couldn’t resist. And the second I had you? Casual was never gonna work for me.”

The weight of his words settles in your chest. You can’t look away, not when he’s watching you like that, like he’s been starving for this moment.

“But hey,” he says, voice dipping low, almost a murmur now. “If you don’t want more, that’s fine. I’ll still give you what you need.” His thumb traces your lower lip, a delicate contrast to everything else about him. “But I want all of it, Angel. I want everything you’ll give me.”

You stare at him, your voice steady despite the heat flooding your veins. “You think I’d be here if you hadn’t caught me too?” you say quietly. “I don’t get this pretty for just anyone.”

His expression shifts. The hunger softens into something warmer, heavier. Something like possession. “You better not,” he says, almost reverently. “You’re mine now.”

And then his mouth is on yours.

Your lips crash together, like they have a million times before, and then he’s picking you up and caging you on the bed underneath you. He dives into your neck, his lips trailing fire across your skin, a low, satisfied groan vibrating from his chest as he kisses you like a man starved. You gasp, trying to hold onto the moment, but you can barely keep your thoughts straight.

You laugh, a little tipsy on him more than the alcohol now. “Katsuki, wait—” You reach up to gently tug at his hair, trying to pull him back. “There’s like a million people in your apartment.”

He barely registers the comment, his hands already at your waist, pulling you closer. “Don’t care,” he mutters, ripping off his shirt with frustration, exposing his toned chest as he leans down to kiss you again.

“I care,” you protest weakly, though the excitement burning in you is undeniable. “I just met them… I want to leave a good impression.”

His eyes darken, a smirk tugging at his lips as he stares down at you. “Fuck that,” he growls, his hands tracing the curves of your body possessively. “The only person you need to be good for is me.”

You roll your eyes, trying to bite back a grin. “Yeah, sure, but I’d prefer not to be that girl at your party—”

“Angel,” he interrupts, voice full of mischief, “I’m the birthday boy.”

His breath ghosts over your ear, sending a shiver straight down your spine.

“Now…” he murmurs, lips brushing your skin, “let me open my present.”

.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊

general taglist 🏷️ : @cristy-101 @cielito--lindo @waterfal-ling

the sadness in his eyes is saying a lot…

No Strings Attached

Chapter 2

Nerdjo x Fem Reader

18+ ONLY, MDNI

A/N: Art in banner is by the lovely @/84midnightsun on Twitter

CW: Unprotected Sex, Oral Sex (Fem Receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Creampie

Chapter Index

The university’s library was cold per usual — not just the physical atmosphere, but cold in its appearance as well. The unforgiving fluorescent lights looked more like they belonged in a supermarket aisle than a place of study. They ricocheted off the white, marble floor and were nearly blinding. Built-in shelves graced the colorless walls, housing tens of thousands of books.

Despite the lack of warmth and coziness one would hope to find in a library, Satoru somehow still managed to brighten up the room with his presence alone. He sat directly opposite you — his cheek propped up on his left hand while his right furiously scribbled into various notebooks. A long-sleeved black sweater draped loosely across his shoulders with the edges of his collarbones exposed. Tousled strands the color of snow fell across his forehead in multiple directions, stopping just shy of his glasses. His azure eyes never once left the work in front of him.

Somehow, even with his attention fully devoted to the physics textbook in front of him, he still managed to shine. He never even had to try, because everywhere Satoru Gojo went, he always managed to be a source of light. Perhaps that was just one of the many reasons you had fallen in love with him to begin with.

In a way, it was almost like he was the sun. His brightness was always the focal point as he illuminated everything in his path. He was funny and kind — the type of person who would do anything for a friend in need. Whether it be pulling an all-nighter to help someone study or moving a piece of furniture, he was always the first to volunteer. He was a self-assured and confident man, especially when it came to academics. Everyone, including him, knew he was a genius, and that was one thing he was not humble about. And on top of everything else, he was truly the most beautiful person you had ever met.

Yes, Satoru Gojo was the sun — and you had been trapped in his orbit for as long as you could remember.

He was completely oblivious to you staring at him, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary. It was well known that once he started studying, it was damn near impossible to tear him away until he was finished. He had always been that way.

Your gaze traced over him, and you meticulously studied every single detail as if this was the first and last time you would ever see him. From the gentle contours of his cheekbones to the sharp edges of his defined jaw, everything about him was perfect. But it was when your eyes reached his supple lips that memories from the night you two had shared just a week prior came rushing in. The trance you found yourself in was immediately shattered by a harsh ache in your heart.

Immediately following your tryst, the two of you went separate ways for the evening. The next morning, and every day since, not a single word was uttered about what had occurred. Satoru acted as if nothing transpired. You expected as much — he did tell you that it was no strings attached. Regardless, it still burned all the same.

“Satoru,” you whispered in an attempt to gently grab his attention.

He offered no response as he continued penning down his notes. You leaned forward a bit and glanced over what he was writing. Complex equations sprawled across almost two full pages in their entirety. His eyes constantly jumped between the textbook and his notebook, his hand never stopping to take a break as he jotted it all down.

He reached with his left hand to quickly flip over onto the next page. You shot your hand out and were just barely able to catch him before he continued on in his physics-fueled trance. Satoru glanced up at you, his eyes finally meeting with yours. He reached his right hand up, pen in tow, and used his index finger to push his glasses up as they began inching down the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, sorry,” he replied with a lazy grin. “Did you say something?”

You forced a small smile to match his. “I just wanted to let you know that I think I’m going to head home. I don’t have any more classes today.”

“Okay, sure.” The corners of his mouth turned further upward as his grin grew into a smile. “I’ll see you later then.”

You nodded your head in response and began gathering the books sprawled out on the surface in front of you that you hadn’t even touched since your arrival. The wooden chair squealed as it scraped against the tile below. Rising to your feet, you tucked away everything into your backpack and pulled out your phone to check your messages. Just a couple of texts from Suguru and Shoko in the group chat inviting you to game night at their apartment tonight.

You turned towards the door, phone still in hand as you began to type out a reply, when suddenly your body collided with something. Immediately looking up, your eyes were met with a widened pair staring right back at you.

A blonde girl, about the same height as you, carrying a stack of books immediately backed up, one of her hands now raised. You didn’t recognize her, which was strange. Your university was decent-sized, but still, you were familiar with the majority of the students. She must be new.

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” Her hushed whispers were urgent and carried a sincere, apologetic tone.

“I’m fine,” you offered with a smile. “I should be the one apologizing. It was my fault.”

“Naori!” You heard Satoru’s voice call from behind you. You turned your head around to see him excitedly pointing to your now empty seat.

They knew each other? He had never spoken about her before, and you two told each other everything.

Well, almost everything.

“I’m so sorry again,” Naori said as her hand brushed against your shoulder, pulling your attention back towards her.

You just offered a gentle smile in return and kept walking past her towards the exit. Before exiting, you glanced over your shoulder one final time at your friend, and your face immediately fell at the sight in front of you.

Neither one of them was studying but instead appeared to be deep into a conversation. Both his notebook and textbook had been closed as he began packing them away in his bag. You saw his hand begin to reach across the table and decided it was enough as you turned your gaze back ahead of you.

Pushing on the door, you exited the library and carefully climbed down the concrete steps. The dull ache in your chest was now replaced by a burning sensation as you felt a nasty emotion take root in you. You shook your head to rid yourself of the thoughts trying to course through your mind. There was no point in jumping to conclusions about what you just saw, and even though you knew what you were feeling, you refused to give a name to it. Satoru was never yours to begin with.

——————

A gurgling sound could be heard as you felt your stomach twisting itself into knots. You were famished to the point it made it difficult to concentrate on the presentation you were attempting to put together for Professor Yaga’s class.

Immediately after you arrived home, you holed yourself up in your room to get some work done. It ensured there would be no distractions, but more importantly, it ensured that you could avoid Satoru. He came home just two hours after you, and since his arrival, you’ve refused to go out into the common areas.

Was it childish? Absolutely. However, you currently had larger things to worry about, and letting your emotions grow out of control would cause far more issues. So once again, you decided you’d just shove them down and deal with them at a later date. You knew it’d come back to bite you sooner rather than later, but in this moment, it felt like the easiest way to deal with things.

Your stomach gurgled a second time —this one was much louder than the first. You pulled your laptop from where it rested on your thighs and set it to the side on top of your nightstand. As long as you were this hungry, you would get absolutely nothing done. You were pretty sure Satoru was in his room and had been since he got home. If you could just run out to the kitchen and quietly grab something quick, chances are you’d be able to make it back without running into him.

Standing up, you slid a pair of slippers on and walked over to your bedroom door. You gently twisted the knob and pushed open the door, allowing your head to peek out of the small crack. Satoru’s room was on the opposite side of the apartment as yours, with the kitchen being in the direct center of you both. He wasn’t in your line of sight, so you opened the door further and pushed yourself forward. You ghosted across the tile floor, not a single sound coming from your footsteps. Upon reaching the end of the short hallway, you peered around the corner into the living room and dining room. Both were empty.

Perfect.

Making your way into the kitchen, you found yourself in front of the pantry. You carefully opened the door and reached in, grabbing a half-empty bag of potato chips. Slipping them under your arm, you grabbed a sleeve of chocolate chip cookies for good measure before closing the pantry back.

“You’re not coming to game night?” Satoru’s voice called out as his bedroom door swung open. You jumped back in surprise, nearly dropping the snacks under your arm.

He had just gotten out of the shower. His milky hair was still damp and effortlessly cascaded around his vivid eyes. Nothing but dark-wash jeans with a pair of gray Calvin Kleins peeking over the top graced his body. You immediately brought your eyes up to his. The last thing you wanted was for him to notice you gawking at his body.

“Well?” He looked you up and down with a small frown.

You glanced down at yourself only to remember you were wearing your pajama shorts. No wonder he was asking.

“No, I’m staying home. Have some stuff to do.” You kept your response curt as you attempted to head back towards your room.

“Oh, come on! Everyone’s gonna be there.” You already knew his face carried a massive pout without even turning around. “Even Nanami’s coming, and he hates game night!”

“Sorry,” you mumbled as you made your way back into the room, using your foot to kick the door shut behind you.

Crawling back into bed, you peeled open the sleeve of cookies and shoved one into your mouth, taking as big of a bite as you could muster. Reaching over to the nightstand, you grabbed a water bottle and popped the cap off before taking a swig. You moved your computer back to your lap and opened your presentation back up.

Your phone began to vibrate next to you, and after glancing over, you saw a single message from Satoru containing nothing but a frowning face. The screen went dark as you slid your finger over and clicked the lock button. You needed to focus on your project. Everything else could wait.

Your fingers frantically typed, only occasionally pulling away to bring another cookie to your mouth. Another buzz came from your phone as the screen illuminated. It was from Satoru again, this time a message containing two frowning faces. You just rolled your eyes in response. Why was he being so damn persistent today? He rarely even went to game night himself. Usually he was the one who was locked away studying.

Suddenly, your bedroom door swung open, nearly slamming into the wall, and Satoru was standing in the entrance, both hands placed firmly on his hips.

His hair was now dry and styled as usual, landing perfectly atop the frame of his glasses he had just put on. A blue button-down was neatly tucked into his jeans with a black leather belt snaking through his belt loops. He looked as good as he always did.

Your name sweetly dripped from his lips like honey, and your heart immediately fluttered. Sometimes you really hated how you were nothing more than putty in his hands.

“Please get dressed and come out with me. It’s going to be fun.” He walked further into your room and plopped down onto the edge of your bed as he pleaded with you.

“I have this presentation to finish for Yaga’s class,” you said as you pulled your eyes back to the screen and began typing again. “The deadline is in two days, and it accounts for a pretty big chunk of my grade.”

“Then I’ll help you with it when we get back.” He tried to reach his hand over to grab your laptop, but before it could make contact, you were swatting him away.

“Gojo, stop.” Your eyes widened as you realized what you said the second it escaped your mouth.

Satoru was just as taken aback as you were. His brows instantly furrowed as a look of pure bewilderment took over his face. You don’t think you’ve ever called him that the entire time you two had known each other.

“What’s going on with you?” His voice was laced with genuine concern.

Setting your laptop to the side, you fully sat up, finally giving him your undivided attention. “Look, I’m sorry, but this presentation is a really big deal. Besides, they host game night every month. I’ll just join in on the next one.”

Your presentation’s deadline was in two days — that much was the truth. However, if it weren’t for what you had witnessed unfold earlier at the library, you’d likely still be going to Suguru and Shoko’s place.

What you had seen had likely been nothing more than a harmless interaction, but even if it wasn’t, it was none of your business. You and Satoru had never been nothing more than friends, and a one-time hookup wouldn’t change that. However, no matter how you looked at the situation, you were still hurting, and you were desperate for a distraction. If throwing yourself into schoolwork offered you even a moment of solace, you’d eat it up.

“Bring your laptop into the living room, and I’ll help you work on it.” He pushed himself to his feet and turned towards the door. “I’m gonna go tell Suguru that we’re not coming tonight.”

“No, Satoru, you don’t have—“

Your words were cut short as he shut the door behind him.

Fuck.

Of course he’d offer to stay home and help you. That was just the kind of person he was.

You shot to your feet and rushed into the living room, catching him just as he picked up his phone and began typing.

“Satoru, seriously, it’s okay,” you reassured him, your voice a far higher pitch than you hoped it would be. “You don’t have to stay in and help me tonight.”

“I want to, seriously,” he said as he continued typing for a moment. His fingers came to a stop, and he looked up at you with a smile. “This is obviously important to you, besides we’ll just go next month like you said.”

“But—“

“No.” He was quick to cut you short before you could protest any further. “Now, go grab your laptop, and I’m going to go change.”

Disappearing to his room without another word, you began trudging back to your room. Once you grabbed what you needed, you headed back towards the couch and plopped down. You pulled the black coffee table towards you and set your laptop on it before folding your legs underneath you.

Satoru soon returned, this time in a white pair of sweatpants and a black compression shirt. He secured himself right next to you and immediately leaned forward, his fingers clicking through the slides you had already completed. You held your breath as his elbow bumped into your knee. The two of you were currently far too close for your liking.

This was the exact opposite of how you had wanted to spend your evening. At least if you had gone to game night, there would’ve been a bunch of other people there with you, and you wouldn’t be forced into such a close proximity with Satoru. Everything had completely backfired.

”Do you mind if I change a few things on the slides you’ve already done?” Satoru asked as he glanced over his shoulder at you.

“Not at all.”

You watched as he sat back up and leaned against the back of the couch. He set your computer on his lap, and the sounds of typing and clicking soon followed.

Scooting over as far as you could, you laid against the couch’s armrest and began mindlessly scrolling through social media. The tension in the air was palpable, at least to you anyways. Satoru had no idea how you felt or what was truly going on, and he was terrible at reading others’ emotions anyways. He always had been.

Roughly an hour passed with the two staying in the same positions, neither one speaking a single word. You locked your phone and rose to your feet. A pair of cerulean eyes cut up to you as soon as your weight shifted off the couch cushions.

“Going to get a snack,” you informed him as you shuffled over to the refrigerator.

Satoru stood up and immediately followed suit. “Do we have anything sweet?”

You couldn’t resist the smile that tugged at the corner of your lips. He truly never changes. “As long as you live here, we’ll always have something sweet.”

“Oh?” A shit-eating grin spread across his face, stretching ear to ear as he reached around you into the now open fridge.

Your cheeks grew hot as you turned your face back towards the fridge, hoping he wouldn’t notice. You smacked his hand away, and he immediately pulled it back. “Now, that’s not what I meant, and you know it. And wait your turn, I was here first.”

Reaching in, you grabbed a container of chocolate-covered strawberries and turned around, setting them on the counter. You flipped open the clear, plastic lid and pulled out one dipped in white chocolate that was decorated with red sprinkles. Bringing it up to your lips, you sank your teeth in and took a generous bite, only leaving the leaves for you to discard.

Satoru was staring at you, and you already knew he wanted some. You flipped the open container towards him and motioned at the five remaining strawberries as an offer.

“Are you not going to feed me one?” He fluttered his eyelashes, a smile still gracing his face.

You rolled your eyes in response and shoved the container of strawberries closer to him. “Absolutely not.”

His bottom lip protruded into the most dramatic pout he could muster. “We’ve been best friends for almost twenty years, and you won’t even feed me a strawberry.”

You let out an exasperated sigh and snatched up a strawberry, this one covered in a layer of milk chocolate with white chocolate stripes. He opened his mouth expectantly, and you brought it up to his lips. He took a bite, and you could’ve sworn his smile grew even larger with every chew. If there was one thing about Satoru, he loved his sweets.

“Are you happy now?”

You received an immediate hum of approval as you closed the lid and turned to set them back in the fridge. “You know, Satoru, after all these years, you’re still just as annoying as ever.”

“Annoying, huh?” You froze as his breath was suddenly hot on your ear. The container fell from your hand at the sudden sensation and hit the plastic shelf with a clank.

Before you could react, he placed a soft kiss on your neck, just below your earlobe. A pair of hands snaked around your waist from behind and slipped underneath the hem of your tank top. Flashbacks of the week prior flooded your mind, and the way you felt was almost identical. You knew, after everything, you should end this before it escalated, but once again, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop. The second his lips touched you, all logic went out the window.

Your hands settled on top of his and guided them downwards until they sunk under the waistband of your shorts. He pulled you backwards, and as soon as your bodies collided, you could feel his hard length rubbing against you. Satoru left a gentle trail of kisses along the side of your neck as his hands sunk lower and lower.

His right index finger slid between your folds and immediately made its way to your entrance. He wasted no time sinking it in as far as it could possibly go. A gasp escaped you at the sudden intrusion, and you leaned forward, grabbing onto the fridge door for support as he curled his finger inside of you.

“Already soaked,” he cooed as his left hand found its way to your clit. You let out a whimper as he began to slowly draw circles around the sensitive nub, his lips never leaving your neck.

He continued until you were just about to reach your climax before retracting both of his hands from you and spinning you around. You opened your mouth to protest the sudden loss of contact, but before you could get any words out, he shoved the refrigerator closed and pushed you back against the stainless steel. Satoru immediately fell to his knees and lifted your right leg over his shoulder while your left was still firmly planted on the floor.

“What are you doing?”

“I told you I wanted something sweet.” In one fluid motion, he pulled down both your shorts and your panties. Within an instant, his mouth was on you. You let out a moan as he began gently moving his tongue back and forth. His movements were slow and deliberate, as if he was trying to savor it.

“Thought about this all week,” he confessed. You couldn’t tell if the butterflies you felt were from the physical pleasure or his sudden admission that the night you shared hadn’t left his mind.

Before your thoughts could stray further, Satoru placed his left hand under the upper part of your right thigh, offering you much-needed support as he began to pick up the pace. You entwined your fingers into his soft strands and gently tugged on them, prompting a quiet groan from him.

Your left leg began trembling and your right heel dug into the muscles on his back as you grew close. Heat began pooling in your abdomen. Your eyes forced shut as you threw your head back. Satoru continued to lap at your clit as your moans grew louder and louder. Your climax exploded through you, and his grip on you tightened as your body jerked forward. He slowed his pace back down, allowing you to ride it out before pulling back.

He rose to his feet and instantly captured your lips with his. The kiss was messy and desperate as he pulled you into him. Both of his hands slipped underneath you, and as he lifted you up into the air, your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist.

He deepened your kiss as he carried you towards the couch, his tongue prying your lips apart and pushing its way into your mouth. Lowering himself down onto the couch, he brought you with him, your knees landing on both sides of his lap. He finally broke the kiss, a thick string of saliva connecting his mouth to yours as he briefly pulled away.

“Please let me fuck you,” he pleaded breathlessly as he slipped his sweatpants and boxers down his thighs. His hard cock sprung free, the tip swollen and red, leaking beads of clear fluid.

You leaned forward, raising yourself up enough for him to line up perfectly with your entrance. Lowering yourself just a bit, his tip began pressing into your cunt, prompting a soft groan from him. In a singular, swift movement you pushed all the way down, taking him all in one go. A second, louder groan fell from his lips as a gasp escaped yours.

His hands connected with your waist, slipping underneath your tank top and pulling it over your head, tossing it to the side. He leaned forward, bringing his mouth to one of your nipples as you slowly began bouncing up and down on his cock.

His tongue encircled the hardened tip as he brought one of his hands to the other, capturing it between his thumb and index finger, rubbing back and forth.

You threw your head back as you started to pick up the rhythm. “I thought about this all week.” Your admission was tumbling from your mouth before you even knew what you were saying.

“How your hands felt on my body and your mouth on mine.” You knew you should quit while you were ahead, but you felt so intoxicated by him you just couldn’t bring yourself to stop. “The way your cock fit inside me perfectly, like it was made for me.”

He pulled back, both of his hands gripping your ass as he took control of the pace, guiding you up and down his length. “If you don’t stop talking like that, I’m not gonna last.”

Your head fell forward and rested against his shoulder as he rutted into you. His pace was far rougher than the first night the two of you shared.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Satoru managed to choke out between his symphony of groans.

His cock repeatedly pushed into your cervix as he pushed himself as far into you as he could physically go. His pace began to grow sloppy as he continued ramming in and out of your sopping cunt.

You could feel him twitch inside of you before he began flooding your insides with his thick, white cum. He thrust into you a few more times as he rode out his climax, his warm seed and your slick juices dripping out from around the edges of his cock and running down your inner thighs onto his lap.

You leaned forward, resting your forehead against his, and closed your eyes. He wrapped his arms around you, still not pulling out, and allowed you to rest there for just a moment as he attempted to catch his own breath.

“Did you mean what you said?” He mumbled, his lips so close to yours that you could inhale him. “That you thought about me all week?”

“Mhm,” you opened your eyes to see a bright blue pair staring right back at you from behind the lenses of his glasses. “Did you?”

“I did,” his voice was incredibly soft as he offered a smile.

The position the two of you found yourselves in was far too intimate for friends who were just hooking up. Whether he realized it yet or not, whatever arrangement you shared with one another would never be casual. You knew the truth was that no matter how hard you tried, you wouldn’t be able to outrun your feelings for him. You could desperately push them down and try to drown them out, but they’d always be there, bubbling back up to the surface until they finally erupted.

You knew what you had to do now. Coming clean and confessing how you felt was truly the only viable option. Not tonight, but soon. Even if your feelings were unrequited, you couldn’t hold them in any longer, because you knew that Satoru Gojo was the sun — and you’d never be able to escape being stuck in his orbit.

prev chapter | next chapter

Credits artist @Ikarotsu

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ♡ ／ BARBIE DOLL

summary. how your boyfriend feels about you, his barbie doll girlfriend

though he doesn’t outwardly say it, you boyfriend adores how much of a doll you are.

your perfect pedicures with your expensive acrylic nails that he always pays for, your picture perfect makeup that he can’t help but always stare at and all your girly habits that always bring a small smile to his face when he sees just how much you enjoy it.

he’s always calling you a barbie doll because of your appearance, it’s sorta become a nickname for you now.

he loves picking out the pink girly designs of your nails, always hinting at you to get his initial on them as he hands you however much money you need to pay for them. he especially loves the way they look wrapped around his—

what he really loves is when you give him little hauls and fashion shows of the new clothes you bought (with his card). the different tones of pink and white, the cute and sexy lace trimmings. you just look so good in everything, and he seems to have a hard time keeping his hands off you.

and don’t even get him started on the pretty lingerie you buy. the way it hugs your body, showing off you pretty skin that he can’t keep his eyes off. he definitely gets told off a few times for his wandering eyes but he can’t help himself! you’re just so pretty! and he’ll show you that by having you in for a very long, tiresome night.

he even remembers the first time he came into your room. the pink bedding and huge display of plushies on your bed that threw him off a little. like, would they be watching the two of you have sex?

he was super mesmerised by all your little trinkets dotted around your room, having to keep his hands to himself. though, he did feel super out of place as he sat on your pink bed, moving over a hello kitty plushie so he had some room.

but after a while he got used to it, even feeding into your habit by buying you even more stuffed animals and paying for your ridiculously overpriced makeup and clothing. he kinda likes the fact he can dress you up like his own little doll.

what he did notice though was the bratty attitude you started to get. the eye rolls and heavy sighs that escaped your glossy lips, the snarky comments you made in front of his friends. it was starting to get a little too much.

but don’t worry! he knows just the thing that’ll get you to drop that attitude of yours and have you resort back into your sweet, girly self that he knows and loves!!

. . . ♡ ⸝⸝

blue lock ! yoichi isagi , meguru bachira , seishiro nagi , oliver aiku, sae itoshi

jujutsu kaisen ! satoru gojo , toji fushiguro , ryomen sukuna

my hero academia ! katsuki bakugo , hawks | keigo takami , dabi | touya todoroki

demon slayer ! tengen uzui , sanemi shinazugawa , kyojuro rengoku

© dollbrbie | don’t plagiarise or translate any of my work

Kakashi as your Divorce Lawyer

18+ content, Minors do NOT interact

Pairing: Modern AU Kakashi x F!Reader

Summery: Divorce lawyer Kakashi is astonished by the gorgeous driven woman who enters his office one day and slowly spirals till she's divorced and he can finally take his turn in claiming her

Warnings: NSFW but pretty tame for my page

Word Count. 3.6k

Author's Note: This is an old request from @decayedbong. Some parts of this are loosely based on my actual divorce. I'll let you guess which ones.

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who was in his office one day when he heard a faint knock and a little “hmm hmm.” Ignoring you, he looks to the window of his office to see if his assistant is at her desk. With dejection at her absence, he shifts his gaze to you only to find his pupils dilating with hunger. 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, whose gaze rakes over your figure standing tall in sleek business attire. Your shirt, a royal blue satin tee with sleeves just above the elbow and a cowl neckline. Your bottoms, a pair of black leather dress slacks, high-waisted with the shirt tucked in, fitted around your plump backside and tapered out from your thighs to your ankles. To complete the alluring look, your hair is gathered in a loose bun high on your head, and pointed black leather kitten heels adorn your feet, keeping you petite but elegant all the same.  

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who, after a moment of staring, realizes you’re blushing and looking off to the side, unaccustomed to the attention of a man as high status as himself. Quickly, he closes his mouth, which fell agape, and clears his throat, bringing your eyes back to him. After motioning for you to sit down in front of him, you gladly sit in the cushioned chair, nervous in spite of your powerhouse clothes.

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who wonders how big of an idiot your husband must be to screw up a relationship with someone like you. Once you begin to explain your situation, his mind goes from wonder to anger. The idiot in question is an unemployed man-child who treats you with disrespect and makes you pay all the bills on top of all the household responsibilities. When you begin to cry, realizing how far gone the relationship’s gotten, you feel ashamed that you put yourself in your current situation. 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who reaches across the desk and takes your hand. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up. I see this every day; you just bet on the wrong horse is all.” Gulping back your tears, you nod your head. The remaining droplets that line your lower lash accentuate the depth of your eyes. Kakashi finds himself getting lost in them before he blinks back to reality and proclaims. “I’ll take the case.”

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, spends the rest of the day thinking about you. You’re sweet and small, but something about you seems big. Kakashi gets the sense that you are actually some corporate hotshot who has climbed the ladder and is only a few promotions away from her goals. He fantasizes about breaking you in, but deep down, he’s certain at home you trade your blazer for an apron and he wants that more than anything. His logic knows that behind closed doors you become the perfect meek little housewife of a man’s dreams, and though he wants it, after hearing your story today, he wants to show you what it’s like to be taken care of for a change.  

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who follows up with you a few days later, asking for an evaluation of your assets and ready to draft an initial copy of your divorce agreement. You hesitate to answer, embarrassed that you don’t have time for an office visit. Eventually, you gather the courage to tell him you won’t be able to because of work, but instead, he offers to meet you wherever you are.

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who, upon his arrival in your office, seems to cause quite a stir. Many women gawk at him as he trails through the building, winding around till he finds your cubicle. You stand to greet him, shaking his hand and pulling out the spare chair in your surprisingly spacious section of the bull pen. Today, you’re wearing a low-cut wrap dress with stilettos and a blazer. You sport the same loose bun at the crown of your head, and your diamond earrings lay hidden amongst the face-framing strands of hair. 

After properly assessing you, Kakashi’s eyes glance around the cubicle, noting your Bachelor's degree and two empty frames next to it. “What are those for?” He asks.

“Oh, it’s a bit silly but those are for the degrees I’m working on now. I have the empty frames as motivation.” 

Kakashi lifts his brow. “Degrees? As in plural?”

“Yes, I’m double majoring right now. I want to move up, so I’m going to school while I work.”

“You mean on top of everything you told me the other day, you’re also going to school to complete two master’s degrees.”

Your polite nod wins over Kakashi’s heart. The humility in your admission, coupled with how normal you make it seem, are precious to him. He wants to defend you now more than before. 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who shows you how to evaluate your assets and walks you through the alimony process. Though you have been supporting your spouse for five years, since being unemployed was his choice and not something your marriage necessitated, he did not have grounds to claim any continuing financial support. This is further solidified by the fact that the reason you lived in your current city was to move for a career opportunity for him, which he then quit after two days. A fact that dropped Kakashi's jaw.

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who showed you how unwise your husbands attempts at your finances are and promises the defense will be easy.

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who is interrupted every few minutes by staff members looking for your help. He’s quick to realize you’ve turned yourself into a valuable asset for your company, watching in awe as you show your peers and even upper-level managers how to find loopholes that aid customers and advocate for the firm’s clientele. From what he can see, you’re not just good at what you do, you’re great. Astonishing and beautiful, you’re husband truly has no clue what he messed up. 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who has a hard time thinking about anything other than you. Determined to see you more, he makes up lame excuses to further consult with you in person, claiming he needs to see the house to get it valuated, asking to meet for coffee so you can sign various addendums that don’t even apply to your case, and doing ‘wellness checks’ to document emotional distress caused by the negligent behavior of your soon-to-be ex. 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who is so sweet to you. He texts you each night to make sure you’re okay now that your ex has finally moved out. He makes himself busy, installing security cameras at your doors, dropping off take-out when he knows you have school projects, and over all being there for you. You tell him you don’t know how you’ll pay him back for all these billable hours, but he assures you not to worry about it. 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who grows protective of you leading up to the day of your court hearing. He comes to the courthouse with a coffee and a smile, reassuring you that today will go smoothly. You welcome both, feeling nervous. “Why did you dress down?” He inquires, noticing your simple khaki slacks with pointed flats and a cream body suit to match.

“I didn’t want him to think I dressed to impress him. I’m just here to get this over with. That’s all.”

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, looks at you with adoration. You are too precious to let down. He swears he’s going to give you what you deserve, in the courtroom and in the bedroom. You just don’t know it yet.

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi,  who catches your worried face. As you enter the courtroom, you notice your husband hasn’t arrived yet. Your pupils dilate, wondering if he is going to show, and if not, does this mean he’s going to drag out the divorce process? Your mind reels but he’s probably just running late like he always is. 

Then, from the hall of the usually silent building, you hear loud yelling and recognize the shouts of your mother-in-law. You wince in embarrassment, knowing this isn’t the time and place for their constant crescendo. Based on the faces of the officers of the court, they find the acoustic entry to be distasteful, too. 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who chuckles and leans in to whisper, “Did he really bring his mommy?” into your ear, forcing you to hide a giggle. As Kakashi straightens up, his mismatched eyes catch those of your husband’s. He assesses the man, searching for any redeeming quality that would justify your marriage to him. Scrutinizing over every detail, he gloats. He’s going to enjoy dismantling your ex’s arguments and afterwards, he’s going to enjoy claiming you as his own.

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who argues on your behalf and wipes the floor with your now ex-husband. Everything that you earned stays with you and not a penny will fall into your ex’s hands. When the final agreement is signed, you hug your silver-haired superhero while he smirks in your ex’s direction. Your now ex-mother-in-law glares at the pair of you while you leave the room with Kakashi’s hand casually on your hip, protecting you from the dangerous look in her eyes. 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who calls your name, giving you pause as you turn your head to gaze up at him, “Yes?”

“I’d like to take you out for dinner this evening.”

“Oh I can’t accept that, you’ve done so much for me already.”

“I insist.”

Realization strikes you, your lips parting as you ask the question, “Kakashi, are you asking me on a date?”

“Yes.”

You stammer, amazed that someone like him would be interested in someone like you. “Are you sure you’re asking the right girl?”

Kakashi laughs and pulls you close, one arm encircling your waist, right outside the courtroom and in front of your now ex husband who’s watching the pair of you in horror. 

“Maybe you’re not as smart as I thought.” he jests, bringing his face dangerously close to yours. 

“I most definitely am not.” you quip back.

“Well I don’t care. You’re perfect and I want to wine and dine you till you’re mine.”

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, whose eyes you gaze up into with pupils blown wide. You can fully feel the heat of your ex’s stare as you gather your wits to agree to be courted like a proper lady by the most gorgeous and successful man you’ve ever met. The ‘yes’ barely makes it past your lips before he’s kissing you with every drop of passion he’s been holding at bay these past two months. 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who you gently pull away from, not wanting to provoke a scene in public. “Please Kakashi, let’s save the celebration for later.”

“I knew she was a whore.” your former mother in law yells. You already know how she told your neighbors all sorts of insane things, making them uncomfortable and causing them to ‘warn you’ about her, but you never really cared what she thought. You always had a poor relationship with your ex’s family anyway. What’s one more word of hate?

But this…this thing with Kakashi feels different. It feels meaningful and real. You don’t know where it’s going but you want to find out. If that makes you a whore, so be it. 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who whisks you away and walks you to your car, instructing you on the dress code of the restaurant for the evening. He loves seeing you all dolled up so he intentionally is taking you to a place designed for people in a whole other tax bracket. 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who impresses you with your dining arrangements. He provides you with meaningful conversation, lets you choose your own meal, and is polite to the wait staff. He checks all the boxes and then checks some more when his goofy side begins to shine. Subtle jokes and sarcasm lay hidden as he speaks. He talks about the kids he helps at the Boys and Girls Club and you feel your heart is set ablaze. You want him. Not just for a night but for a future. You were robbed of a marriage, a family, and a future by your ex-husband's childish behavior, but with Kakashi, he’s a man. A man who can provide you with a real marriage, a family, and a future.

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who watches you poke your food as your mind reels. He reaches out to cover your hand with his, stopping your thoughts and bringing your attention to his soft features. “What is it?”

“I-” you look down and swallow, “I just got out of a serious relationship. Before I enter another one, I need to know, are you looking for a future with me or is this just for fun?”

“Can it be both? I hear serious relationships are very boring. I’d rather enjoy being around my future wife.”

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who you look at with stunned eyes. “You really feel that way?”

“Since the day I met you. I can’t believe how hard your ex fumbled you. If you will be mine, I’ll treat you like gold the rest of our lives." he proclaims. "Every day I see men mess up relationships. I watch as their tired and broken wives explain their life stories to me. I know what women want is someone who cares about the chores, the children, the mental load, and treats them with general kindness. Those are the things I want to do for you.” 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, has you speechless. You stare at him, expression adorably blank and reminiscent of a deer caught in headlights.

“So will you let me try to be those things for you?”

Slowly, you nod, accepting his offer. “Yes, I’ll let you try.”

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who orders food for delivery and pays for the bill immediately. 

“What are you doing?”

“Not wasting a second. We can eat after.”

“After?! After what?”

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who drops $200 on the table, instructing the waiter to keep the change before he grabs you by the waist and escorts you out of the restaurant hurriedly. He guides you to a high-end car and moves to open the door but first pushes you up against it, kissing you like you are a popsicle that could melt away from him at any second. His teeth nip at your lips, biting them and pulling them, turning them red. Then he lunges back in, sweeping his tongue past your teeth and into your cavern, allowing it to dance with yours. 

His hands covetously grab each side of your face and pull you into him, pinning you in place between the car and his body. 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who grinds into you in the parking lot of the most expensive restaurant in town. He’s barely able to contain himself, debating hiking up your skirt and claiming you right here in public or giving you the dignity of taking you home first. He decides on the gentlemanly thing even though the dog in him is screaming in protest.

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who whispers between kisses, asking permission to take you back to his place. “Of course.” you breathe, wondering why the question needed to be asked but happy that he cared. 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who grips your hand as he speeds home, occasionally guiding it over to his bulge, using your hand to palm himself. Your body tenses up every time you feel the hardness that lies beneath, still in awe that this is truly happening.

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who pulls into his garage and jogs around to your side of the car, opening the door and pulling you up into his arms. He kisses you tenderly, meaning to guide you into his home, but your little moans drive him haywire with lust. “Can’t- control myself- around- you.” he grunts out between kisses while his hands wander around your silhouette. 

Your delicate voice rings out in agreement, letting your hands slip down to his pants to tug open the buttons. His hands slide to your behind, circling and massaging the tissue.

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who goes feral at the sounds of your arousal. He bucks up into you as you tug down his slacks and let his hands glide to the bottom of your skirt, tugging up the hem to run his fingers along the seam of your drenched center.

“I knew you’d be wet f’me” his lust-drunk voice chimes, slipping your thong to the side and sinking a finger into your warmth. 

You immediately gasp, clenching around the singular digit while he works to wet your entire entrance, lubing you up for the aching appendage waiting to dive into your drooling hole. 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, whose fingers jut in and out, making you squirm as your hand tugs along his length, anxious to have him the way he intends to have you. 

He kicks off his pants, leaving them behind when he grabs the backs of your thighs and wraps them around his waist, pinning his rod between your heat and his abdomen. Folds thirsting to have it penetrating rather than resting, you clench, pulsing against what you want most. 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who groans into your mouth as he carries you inside the home, intending to take you upstairs, but the temptation is too strong, and instead, he lays you on the kitchen island. 

“Sorry baby, I can’t wait any longer.” He whispers into your hair before rubbing his shaft against your center and slipping in. 

You’re drenched, something you haven’t experienced in five years. But with Kakashi, he pulls out every drop of desire that’s been waiting to come alive since you made the decision to divorce.

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who begins to thrust into you, shifting your body back and forth on the cool granite countertop. Every nerve ending is extra sensitive, fully aware of the pleasure rocking you both. Your breathing turns to pants quickly, your climax hitting you far too soon, but it’s been so long since you’ve done this, let alone enjoyed this, that the smallest amount of intimacy has you reeling.

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who fucks you through your first of many orgasms that night, bending you in several new positions, and experimenting with you in the kitchen, on the couch, on the stairs and eventually in the bed. You find yourself a sweaty mess by the time he’s almost finished with you, but you keep going anyway, determined for this experience to never end.

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who sees your strength is waning, so he decides to play a little harder. He bends you back over onto your knees and aggressively pumps into you. Crying out in pleasure, he grabs your elbows, pulling back till your spine bows into a sinful arch, deepening his reach. You feel overwhelmed and exhausted, too tired to take any control. With another spasm around his solid member, he pushes your head down into the mattress and continues his bruising pace. Your insides twist in agonizing pleasure, and your hoarse voice husks out one last scream before his balls tighten with the front of his thighs clench. He flips you onto your back to empty his seed on your belly, grunting as he does. 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who grabs a towel and wipes off your skin before heating up the shower so both of you can rinse off with masculine, sudsy body wash. He looks so brilliant with wet, rippling muscles, coated in bubbles. You fall into his chest, still trying to realize this is reality. 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who quickly rinses off hearing a ring at the door and returns to the bathroom with a takeout bag filled with the food you should’ve eaten at the restaurant. You rinse yourself too and twist your hair into a clip, covering your body in one of his baggy shirts. Both of you pad to the kitchen, grabbing plates and forks to dine on some of the most delicious food you’ve ever tasted. 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who pledges to treat you this way every day as long as you’ll have him, waiting anxiously for you to finally grace him with his favorite three letter word…”yes”

Masterlist

NERD GOJO WHO'S YOUR TA!

synopsis. TA nerd gojo who has a crush on you and gets assigned as your tutor.

content. 18+ explicit content. foul language. public sex. dom/sub undertones. inappropriate relationship. unprotected sex. virginity loss. feminine description used.

note. umm first time posting... enjoy!!

nerdjo, who works as the TA in your chemistry class, and due to your lackluster performance so far in the semester, he gets assigned as your tutor. He's a total nerd whose interests fall outside the typical college student's. Despite that, you still find him to be so cute. He's a little shy and on the quieter side, and his confidence mostly comes through when he's teaching."

nerdjo, who always comes to class early and helps set up labs before the students flock in, is dressed in a sharp white lab coat that pairs well with his shaggy white hair. He always wears his framed glasses, which he constantly has to push up because his head is shoved in some book that you wouldn't even know where to begin to understand.

nerdjo, who didn't even realize that you were no longer listening to his explanation on today's lecture and instead was fantasizing about fucking him in the middle of the dimly lit library that you were studying in. Chemistry was long gone from your mind, and all you could think about was how you desperately craved to see how he’d look as he struggled not cum inside of you.

nerdjo, who only realizes your mind is elsewhere when he glances into your eyes and can tell you didn’t retain a single word he said for the past 20 minutes...at least. He instead notices you're looking at him in a way he can't recall any girl has looked at him before, you were practically staring into his soul with your lust-filled eyes.

nerdjo, who knows it's wrong because he’s your TA but can't help but shamelessly take a glance down at your very low-cut top that pushes the soft skin of your chest together and makes it appear as if you're spilling out of it. He nearly wants to drool at how soft they look under the confines of the fabric and how they would probably fill his hands as he takes your nipples into his—

You caught his wandering eyes shamelessly traveling down your body before quickly lowering his gaze to the book in front of him. You could see his blood rush to his cheeks and create a rosy blush that exposed his embarrassment. His shyness only turned you on even more. Just thinking of being able to ruin your nerdy TA’s innocence made the space between your thighs grow even more wet.

nerdjo, who was now feeling the consequences of his perverted actions and could feel himself growing hard under the table. To try and distract himself, he started rambling on about the lecture again, this time stumbling on his words a concerning amount of times over topics you know he would be able to teach in sleep.

nerdjo, who knew the feelings flooding his body were so wrong. He shouldn't be getting so aroused around one of his students, He shouldn't be noticing how pretty she is, and he really shouldn't be wondering if the color of the bra strap peeking out the side of her top matches her panties! But as much as he tried he just couldn't force the thoughts out of his mind. The once-cold library felt so much warmer, and the space between your chairs didn't feel like enough.

“are you feeling okay? You seem kind of hot,” you asked, playing concerned. You took the opportunity to put your hand on his thigh, causing his leg to almost twitch immediately.

“oh-no m-me? I’m fine!" he stumbles on his words, and your hand continues to brush back and forward his pants, each time subtly getting a little too close to where you shouldn't.

nerdjo, who nearly jumps at the feeling of your getting close to his inner thigh and tries his best to play it off as if you’re not almost massaging his soon-to-be raging bulge in the middle of this empty library right now.

He nervously pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he feels your hand get closer and closer to a place no girl had touched before. He was at a loss for words, barely able to bring himself to protest your actions as his brain was slowly turning to mush the more he felt your touch.

“but you don’t look fine,” you say, feigning worry. You take his cheek in your palm and turn his flustered-horny face to make eye contact with your lust-filled ones.

“I think I know just how to help you though,” you say as you finally move your other hand right on his crotch and begin to massage his painfully hard dick through his pants. He audibly gasps in surprise at your forwardness and can't stop the immediate sigh of pleasure that escapes his lips.

"f-fuck this is so wrong- i-i'm your TA we can't-." He tries to remind you while clearly fighting to hold back his moan and making no actual move to stop your hand.

"But it feels good, doesn't it? you like the way I touch you? You ask while dipping your hand below the waistband of his pants, making the only barrier between you his boxers as you apply even more pressure to his aching cock. You could feel the pre-cum surrounding his tip, already wetting your hand through the fabric. Your voice was so sweet to his ears, paired with the feeling of your hand; it was all too much for him, and he could no longer continue his pathetic fight against you. All he could do was shamelessly nod through his moans.

"You've been such a good boy helping me... It's time you let me help you."

━━━━━━━━━━━━

The once quiet library was now filled with the obscene sounds of gojo's plunging his cock in and out of your poor sopping-wet pussy without holding back in the slightest.

You were the least bit prepared for your nerdy TA's to have so much length and thickness hidden beneath his pants. He was giving you the biggest stretch of your life as he fucked you on the library table with no mercy. It's like his hips had a mind of their own as soon as he sunk into the warmness of your core. And it didn't help that your tight walls were sucking him back in with every stroke, accompanied by squelching sounds of your pussy, driving him even more crazy.

""f-fuckk omggg, this feels so good," he whined as he tilted his head back with his eyes practically glued shut. He couldn't bear to look at you as he felt like he would explode any minute if he made eye contact with you while you were in such an unholy position.

"cmon baby, look at me, look at all the mess you made," you beg him as a loud moan escapes your lips. His dick was hitting places you didn't even know could be reached, and even though there was a slight pain that came with his thickness you found it to be pleasurable.

It made you crave to feel every inch of him inside you, so you lifted your leg onto the table, making his hips press closer into you and giving him a new angle that had him nearly about to shed a tear. He slows down his pace, barely being able to handle the feeling of his fat tip kissing your cervix over and over again. (you couldn't really blame him, it was his first time getting his dick wet.)

"I'm so sorry baby omg m'sorry- if I look I won't last!" he whined apologetically. This position had him stars and the only way to stop himself from filling you up was to try to slow down. He gave you slow but deep strokes that had you feeling every vein of his cock throbbing inside you. He was trying his best not to come quick so he could enjoy the feeling of your pussy longer, he was already so attached. He reached in front of you and took a handful of your chest, squeezing the soft skin of your breast before gently toying with your nipples.

As good as it felt you weren't having any of it. "mm-but don't you want to come inside me?" your question forces his eyes wide open. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, a girl as pretty as you were going to let him cum inside??

"ahh- god, I must dreaming right now." he babbled as his brows scrunched together. 'Such a nerd,' you thought to yourself. Gojo was trying his best not to focus too hard on the feeling of you sucking him in so he could avoid embarrassing himself by cumming on the spot. His movements became more sloppy, which let you know he couldn't hold on for much longer.

"Its not a dream baby- please I need you to fill me up!" you moan out feeling his dick contnously brush against your spot. "I need it all inside me please." you begged while looking into his glossy eyes.

That was his last straw. Without even thinking if you could physically handle it, he quickened his pace, and you nearly choked in surprise at how fast he was fucking you. The library was filled with your sultry sounds harmonizing together. His feverish eyes gazed into yours with desperation. you knew he was close and so were you.

"oh my godd m'cummingg" you cried out to him. your cunt pulsated around his cock, liquid streams gushing out, splashing onto his lower abs and thighs. Your body trembles as your orgasm continues, and he continues to fuck you through it and chase his own. The sight of your orgasm only pushes Gojo completely over the edge.

"baby I'm gonna cumm- baby please, please." he didn't even know what he was begging for at this point. His mind was so far gone that all he could think about was coming inside of you. "It's okay baby let go-"

You could feel his strokes get more and more sloppy and his thighs tremble, his pretty blue eyes rolled back as he finally emptied his aching cum-filled balls into your pussy. You couldn't help but moan as you felt the warmth fill you up. There was so much cum spilling out that it overflowed from within you and traveled down between your legs.

Your bodies succumb to the exhaustion and collapse together on the table. "This must be what heaven feels like," he says breathlessly with only feelings of euphoria running through his brain.

'such a nerd' you smile to yourself.

nerdjo has my heart