Sometimes, You Like Teasing Your Boyfriend, Katsuki, By Pretending To Be One Of His Fangirls. He Usually

"Render this in your style challenge " coloured by me, lineart( and host) : @/mikeyartbook on Instagram

SERO??? HELLOOOOOO

this art by horis assistant. people DIED.

it’s all over the screen 🤗

cr: aliyartss on X‼️

Pornstar Satoru

Pairings- Pornstar Satoru x shy f!reader

Warnings- mentions of sex and sexwork, masturbation, mentions of drug use, weed smoking, Gojo has an OF hehe, lots of longing, pining, Satoru can't get hard if it's not you, whipped ass Satoru

This will be a FULL fic as a thank you for 11k followers (I can't BELIEVE I'm almost there!?!??) I wanted to show a little preview first, so here are some hcs!! Thank you all sm for following meee <3 Comment to get tagged!

Pornstar Satoru is one of the most famous pornstars there are, hence him constantly wearing jet black shades and hoodies at times, he never knew just who he'd run into that would recognize him. Whether it's his flicks or his OF - he's the top .01 % - he gets a lot of notice, especially in bustling LA. But, he loves what he does, he especially loves watching his abs flex in the camera as he hits one of his lovely costars from the back.

Pornstar Satoru loves making the costars and girls he collabs with actually cum, where they're shaking and squirting all over his latex covered cock. Not that fake shit like he watches them do with other men- no Satoru makes sure to slam that curved tip against their cervix, to roll his thumb right on their clit with the perfect amount of pressure. Perhaps that's the secret to how famous he really is, along with his good looks.

Pornstar Satoru makes so much money from each shoot and is in high demand, so he can have whoever he wants as a co star. They line up to have a chance at him, watching his videos and aching for a chance to feel his cock hitting them deeper than damn near anyone could hit, to say they got to shoot with the Satoru Gojo. This just makes Satoru fuck them harder, smiling right at that camera, as women dream it's really them that have captured his pretty blue eyed gaze.

Pornstar Satoru thinks it's a pretty damn good life, being rich for fucking beautiful women on camera, as he's inhaling a blunt after a threesome shoot with his best friend - and often costar- Pornstar Suguru, as they talk about who got the girl to squirt more, right in the middle of a bouguie party in East LA. Suguru let's out a throaty laugh, while Satoru narrows his blue eyes. 'I had her cumming so hard she was shaking' he says, taking a hit and handing it back to Suguru. 'Nah, that was all for me, did you see...'

Pornstar Satoru stops listening when he sees you enter the room, completely out of place at the coke filled, booze filled party, wearing a pair of black glasses that cover half of your pretty face, and a little nervous look as you stand there, in a cute white pleated skirt and a big oversized sweater. Satoru smacks Suguru on the shoulder then and he coughs up smoke. 'Shit what is it?' Satoru looks back at you, when you're handed a drink, some guy flirting as you look down shyly. 'Who's she?' Suguru blinks a bit curiously. 'I don't know, she's pretty though'

Pornstar Satoru scowls at Suguru who snorts in laughter then. 'Satoru we don't have 'girlfriends' and she... looks like a good girl' your eyes catch his then, across the room, like something shifts as you smile sweetly, before peering at your phone, biting your lip in concentration. 'I'm talking to her' Suguru chuckles as he watches his friend, and Satoru feels his heart race when he comes too close to you, something he can't say he's felt, even pleasing countless beauties, nothing has quite altered him as your sweet turn of lips, as you look down at your converse, so out of place you're fucking adorable. 'Hey sweetheart... Satoru Gojo' he says, introducing himself with ease, expecting you to maybe notice him, get starstruck, fuck women get wet just near him, but you simply grin, and your name whispers through his mind when it spills from your lips.

Pornstar Satoru has you sitting with him later, you fall into easy conversation, you're a little gamer nerd, you love science and the environment, he just bets you were head of your ecology club in college, which you quickly confirm, all while you're in awe of just how beautiful this man is. He's sweet, he's sexy... you feel he shouldn't even be talking to you. You're pretty but... he's experienced so clearly, by every way he moves, he's worldly, so confident, and you've never really left this little part of LA, but the two of you can't stop talking, to the point you forget what brought you here.

Pornstar Satoru laughs with you, as you're sitting side by side, and he lights up a blunt, leaning back on the burgundy couch on the outskirts of the party, inhaling it deep into his lungs. 'Want a hit, sweets?' he murmurs, you take it nervously, putting it to your lips and inhaling a bit, before coughing, covering your mouth. Satoru chuckles, 'you're cute' earning your cheeks heating up. 'Can you tell I don't do this?' you're nervously tapping your leg now. 'Yeah, what does bring you here, doesn't seem your...' 'my scene?' he nods then. 'yeah, that.'

Pornstar Satoru watches avidly as you sip on your drink, wincing at the strong liquor. 'Well, my friend invited me over, but she's running late' Satoru grins now. 'Party time is different, everyone comes late, that's on time. About fifteen minutes late' 'oh no I came early!' you smack your own forehead, giggling along with him. 'Are you like... a model, or an actor?' you ask, eyeing him and his baby blues, the cheekbones so perfect, those lips that wrap the blunt again. 'You could say I'm a bit of both,' he muses, then spits out his drink when you ask 'what are you in!?'

Pornstar Satoru coughs just a bit, he's never been ashamed of what he does, but he's nervous for some reason to tell you. Why, he doesn't know. 'I'm... into some indie flicks' you brighten up then. 'Oh, let me know, I love lowkey films! I bet you're great' Satoru sighs, gulping down the rest of his drink and eyeing your cup. 'Want more?' you frown now, maybe you're asking too much, or offending this actor that you don't recognize him!? You nod, the amount of people around you making you press against this friendly, pretty white haired stranger just a little more.

Pornstar Satoru has another drink, eyeing the sea of bodies undulating in the extravagant mansion, and soon the two of you are dancing together you're cute and so awkward, Satoru's enjoying this far, far too much. He has plenty of costars and fans come up to the two of you, but he's too interested in showing you how to move your hips to pay them any mind, when finally your friend comes. Satoru instantly recognizes her, she's a pretty famous co star he's collabed with on her Onlyfans not long ago. When she sees you giggling and enjoying yourself so much, she damn near drags you away, making Satoru curse.

Pornstar Satoru eyes you when your friend whispers in your ear- 'you really don't recognize him!?' you blink curiously, looking at him more closely. 'Should I?' she sighs then, eyeing Satoru up and down. 'He was in my OF videos, we collabed' you heat up furiously then. 'I never watched your videos! I just subbed to be supportive!' she giggles. 'You're so cute, I thought you at least watched some?' you shake your head nervously. 'I don't really watch, is he... like an OnlyFans guy?' Satoru is back over with Suguru now, while you sip your drink, feeling your body warm up. 'He's the top pornstar there is, the collab was like a dream. He's really sweet but you should know is all, you're kinda...' you glare. 'kinda what?' she giggles again. 'you're just... sweet, emotional, is all'

Pornstar Satoru expects you to be done with him once you find out, after all you just seem innocent, uncorrupted for this city, not the kind of girl to be at this party where lines are being snorted off bodies, and people are naked and jumping in the pools, a heady, wild atmosphere. But you smile at him, as you murmur - 'he's sweet?' to your friend. She nods then. 'He is, but just know... he doesn't date so, it'd only be physical' you frown at that now, that's not something you think you can do, you're about as demisexual as it gets, hence your very limited experience. 'He doesn't date at all?' Your friend gently touches your shoulder. 'No, love, I'd hate to see you hurt'

Pornstar Satoru catches you before you leave later that night, when you are just feeling too out of place, his big hand wrapped around your delicate wrist, earning you looking up at him. He can't stop thinking how pretty your eyes would look rolled back, how good your lips would feel wrapped around his cock, as you relax a bit, turning and looking up. 'Headed out already?' he asks softly, you flush as you remember just what he does for a living, your friend had just described his cock in far too vivid detail. 'It's not really my thing, but I'm glad we met, Gojo' you smile so cute then, leaning up and pecking him on the cheek, his arm wraps your waist as he leans down, inhaling that sweet vanilla scent cloying to your skin.

Pornstar Satoru pulls you in closer, blue eyes staring under snowy lashes. 'Can I... get your number?' Satoru has never asked for a number a day in his life, but he delights in watching you shift nervously, nodding as you tuck your hair behind your ear. 'Yeah, I'd like that' he exchanges numbers, tilting your chin up then, watching the way your eyes dilate, the color spread on your pretty cheeks. 'She told you?' you clear your throat, nodding a bit, still being captured by his fingers. 'I don't judge at all, Gojo, I'd still like to be... friends...' your whisper is met with the most subtle kiss on your lips, shooting desire hot and heavy until Satoru releases you, plump lips smirking- 'sure, sweets, we can be friends'

Pornstar Satoru can't get you off his mind, the feel of your skin on his, the sweet sigh against his lips. He is on a big shoot and - the Satoru Gojo that never gets soft - is having trouble keeping it up, to the amusement of his costar Pornstar Sukuna. Satoru scowls at his comments, just picturing your sweet lips against his for that brief moment. A man who just fucks and fucks, and doesn't feel, is hung up just on some fucking kiss. He has to take a break after pleasing his costar with his fingers, she's cumming so much she doesn't notice, but the directors wonder why he's off. He's in his own dressing room, eyeing the phone, hands shaking as he decides to type a message - 'could you give me a picture, sweets, to save as your caller id?'

Pornstar Satoru finds his cock is right back on hard when you send one quickly, just a cute selfie with a little peace sign, but he sees your glossy fucking lips, the teeth indentations he aches to rub the tip of his cock on, along with just a hint of your breasts. Your nipples press against the thin material of your little tee shirt- Pokemon, he notices, smiling- his cock throbbing. 'Can I get one too?' you're biting that lower lip nervously as you ask, getting a picture of him shirtless then, doing nothing to stifle the curiosity in your mind, your heart racing as you seee his body. 'You at a shoot?' you ask in the messages, he hesitates before answering - 'yes' - and somehow you feel jealous of whoever his costar is. You message a - kill it, Gojo! - despite the feeling in your tummy, little do you know you're drowning his fucking mind when he performs later, feeling the star squirting all over his latex covered cock.

Pornstar Satoru can't stop texting you that week, he can't even get hard if he doesn't look at that picture, and you can't stop your curiosity, when you friend mentions he's doing a live stream. Since Satoru can hardly perform, he's decided to masturbate on live cam, in minutes making more than he'd make in a shoot, all while having your picture propped up. People are chatting, watching, dollars by the hundreds being tipped every moment, fuck he's making way more than he usually would, and he can think of you. He laughs softly, abs flexing as he hits the right angle, reading the comments, making you dripping wet, this isn't what you do!?

Pornstar Satoru is stroking his wet, slick cock that's glistening, up and down with his huge hand, and you feel your pussy clench, breath coming faster, unsure whether to look away or keep staring, meanwhile he's picturing you in all sorts of positions, on your knees, a fucking mating press. He's shutting his eyes for a moment, grinning as the viewers go crazy. 'I know, it's pretty, huh?' he spits right on that long, veiny cock of his, pinching his pink tip and whining, white lashes fluttering open right when he sees a familiar name enter the chat.

Your name.

hehe it'll be a FULL FIC not a drabble/oneshot - if you're interested in getting tagged drop a comment <3

perm tags- @alt--er--love @indiewritesxoxo @nanasukii28 @cuntphoric @loafteaw @n1vi @miizuzu @beachaddict48 @honeybunnnnie @re-tired-succubus @gojosukuna2268 @waterfal-ling @1brii @wise-fangirl @moncher-ire @orikixx @uhnosav @baepsays @designerpvssy @orixxxana @airandyeah @nina-from-317 @evelynxxo @naammiii @soyokosuguru @espresso1patronum @tomboy-disaster @iam-souless @lanii-i @cristy-101 @doeeyestoji  @cvixmei @mutsu422 @ivyvenus333 @g00seg1rl @suki91 @satoao-main @fairygardenprincesss @theonlyjuggernaut @huntyhuntycunty @lovelockdownff @ibreathesmut @s777athv @twinklywinkly @akiii143 @squeezyvalkyrie @cookielovesbook-akie @oinksa @cutelittlesugarfairy

whining about how his cock is too big and it's stretching your pussy when he leans in and goes "You're gonna thank me for stretching you out when it's time to push my brat out."

js went on to look at the latest in the hamzah tag and it's writers saying theyre quitting, and then i went to check my favourite writer's blog and everything is GONE, like posts, reblongs n everything

(っ◞‸◟ c) like ahh what's happening oh my gosh??

Pro-hero BAKUGO with his own agency obsessing over his new sweet perfect little assistant, just needing to have her all to himself, the JELAOUSY

Bakugou Katsuki

♡ TW: nsfw, misogyny, yandere, obsession, dubcon/noncon, profanity, abuse of power, delusional thoughts, uhm slight mommy kink kinda

♡ FEM reader

Wants & Needs

Bakugo stormed towards the elevator.

Not letting the sliding doors of the entrance to his agency slow him down. Making a dedicated beeline towards his office on the sky-floor.

Anyone else would have thought he was grumpy as per usual, therefor keeping their distance. But like always, it didn't stop Kirishima.

"I don't want another wide-eyed snivelling slutty ditzy assistant, Shitty-hair." The explosion-hero grumbled in the elevator.

Still visibly pissed off that he wasn't allowed to simply explode his way to the top where he was reduced to wasting a whole two minutes standing still. Forced to listen to the makeshift red-head's yapping whining on about what he can and can't do, what he must and mustn't, what he needs and needn't, what's best of him and what's best for him. With a thousand means to no end.

"Give her a try-" The red-head pushed in a drawl.

Having only barely lost any of the enthusiasm he started off with when they were on the first floor.

"I heard she’s supposed to be great!" He beamed.

His teeth shiny like razors in his mouth.

"And pretty."

Bakugo didn't even bother giving him a glance. Rolling his eyes beneath his eyelids. The toothy smile of his friend and coworker too bright an annoying light to face in the morning.

"I don't understand why you bother..." He sighed.

The ash-blonde allowed himself to calm down, knowing it was about another minute left in the tight space, and how no one else could hear his crude words, nor the insecurity hidden in them.

"If it’s a lady she’s gonna be too sensitive anyway." He mumbled.

He always sent them crying. This one would be no different.

"One; you’re the one who’s too insensitive." Kirishima stated, having his finger raised, another bony-knuckled digit following, marking his additional argument. "And two; that’s wicked misogynistic, Bakugo."

"It’s been true so far." The ash-blonde grumped.

"Yeah, but please don't say that shit in front of anyone but me, yeah?" He urged. "At least not when we reach the top floor."

Katsuki turned to look at him for the first time that morning.

"What's on the top floor?"

He did not look amused.

Kirishima twirled his fingers innocently, mouth parting dumbly as he slowly began answering the question in demand.

"Well... I might have gone and taken the liberty of hiring you a new assistant-"

"Fucking dammit, Kiri, I told you! I don't want a new assistant!" The pro-hero groaned, whining like a child only with the growl of a man, trying to keep his breath calm while carding his fingers through his hair, yanking on it, feeling the need to rip it from his scalp to hold himself back from punching the apologetic smile off of Kirishima's face.

"Man, you need one!" The red-head defended with a breezy laugh, seemingly dusting his friend's rage off like it was nothing.

Katsuki only grunted in return, shaking his head, sighing. Giving Kirishima the cold-shoulder. Knowing that if he opened his mouth to say anything now, it would be far from pretty.

He instead opted for reducing his anger to mere growling and brooding for the remaining minute stuck beside the pest that was his bothersome friend.

"You'll love her." The sturdy-hero insisted, putting his fists to his hips while puffing up his chest, chin raised in a way that told Bakugo he couldn't be told otherwise.

The brute huffed as he folded his arms back over his chest, wordlessly disagreeing. Looking up with glaring alarm-red eyes to the lit numbers above the door while tapping his combat-boot-wearing foot loudly against the floor, frustrated with how Kirishima stood beside him optimistically drumming his fingers on his thigh to the beat of the brain-rotting elevator-music, yet slightly uplifted to see he was closer to being allowed to lock himself away in his office and stay there unbothered by the likes of pesky meddling friends and dumb fragile assistants.

.

She stood there, awkwardly awaiting her new boss where the bare-chested hero had left her to go receive him.

Kirishima was nice. A type of friendly she knew she shouldn't be expecting from the explosion-hero.

Which is why her palms were sweating so embarrassingly much, making her wipe them down her skirt, also in an effort to straighten it, where the ding of the elevator only aided in making her heart skip along faster, looking down to see if her blouse was still perfectly situated.

She swallowed her anxiety as the two men neared her, trying to wipe her face free of timidity, knowing how such fragility would not survive here, in Pro-hero Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight's Agency.

She decided she would be the one to initiate the handshake, wanting to make a strong first impression, the intent almost leading to her leaping forward into the man.

"Hie! I'm-"

But her offered hand was disregarded before she could do as much as finish her introduction.

Without giving her so much as a glance, the tall muscular male didn't even slow down, but continued to walk straight past her, leaving her only one curt cruel comment.

"Listen, kid, I don't need another snivelling crybaby getting tears in my coffee. Don't bother unpacking." He grouched, cutting her off, trying to stomp off in direction of his office, yet stopped by the other male who had his mouth gaping in disbelief at his charmless friend.

"He doesn't mean that." Kirishima rushed to assure. "He really needs you-" He tried defending, but apparently it wasn't needed.

She was ambitious to prove she could handle herself.

"I'll be sure to put a lid on the cup, sir." She made her voice sound cool and unbothered, face relaxing nonchalantly though still with a small soft smile to compliment her pretty face.

Bakugo gaze went from glaring at the red-head to offering the snippy thing a side-look.

Kirishima looked stunned for a moment too before giving a loud grin, eyes glinting.

"See? She can handle you!" He nearly shouted, enthusiastically giving Bakugou a punch to his shoulder. "Come with me! I'll help you settle in."

The man placed a massive gravely hand to the small of her back, guiding her, taking her box from her without asking in order to carry it for her.

She would tell him she could manage on her own, but she'd already come to terms with his slightly domineering acts of manliness and opted for simply smiling in gratitude instead of going full feminist on his out-dated acts of chivalry. It was only her first day after all.

"You'll be primarily Bakugo's assistant and receptionist-" The muscular male started explaining, taking large steps she struggled to parallel as he ushered her forward. "But, to be completely honest with you, you'll probably have to be a bit of a babysitter and maid as well..."

The ash-blonde gave a sigh as he stalked on, leaving Kirishima to take care of the new office pretty addition, not happy with how his friend was describing him, yet not bothered enough to stop him.

"He's very needy, lazy in a sense, he can't be bothered with fixing his calendar and getting his coffee, addressing the public and that sorta thing, so you'll take care of it for him." The sturdy-hero continued informing as he walked her to the glass desk placed lonely outside Bakugo's transparent office.

"Of course-" She nodded her head, listening and agreeing. "I'm here to make his life easier."

"Exactly!" Kirishima said with a smile. "I knew you were perfect!"

Bakugo shook his head with little thrill.

Kirishima said that about every assistant he'd gone and hired on his behalf.

He looked at her before closing the door to his office, analysing what he saw with an uninterested face, taking in her straight posture, standing there like a doll with her knees together, hands folded over her lap, nodding her head pliantly to Kirishima's every word.

He allowed for his scarlet-eyes to judge.

Mundane pencil-skirt, tight-fitted yet appropriate, reaching just beneath her knees, showing off calves but nothing more as her boots hid her ankles. It was the first time he'd seen a woman in an office without stilettos or any other annoyingly loud power-heel on. Her blouse was modest too, no see-through fabric, no bright pop colour, no cleavage, just boring rose-beige reaching up beneath a set of pretty collarbones and an un-necklaced throat.

Pretty in a plain sort of way.

If she was wearing makeup, it couldn't have been much. But her lips had a certain shine to them. Not much colour sept for natural, but glossy in a way making them look pillowy and soft.

He made a note of how she wasn't dressed like a slut, how she looked nothing like those other assistants that came before her, who curled their hair to crispy meanders bouncing as they fake-laughed, with pink manicured nails curling around Kirishima's bulging biceps as he flirted with them.

Fucking disgusting.

He's pretty sure the red-head had banged about every bratty bitchy lazy assistant he's had, knowing how the toothy moron has it as some type of wager with himself, a goal to make each dumb pretty-girl even dumber on his dick.

This one looked sweet though.

Not at all like some brain-dead plastic bimbo hoping to be swept up by a sugar-daddy, or a power-hungry manipulative bitch looking for fame and publicity.

This one simply looked happy to be there.

No ulterior motives sept to do her job.

He nearly felt bad for her, knowing how his dumb-as-a-rock friend was going to abuse his popularity yet again and play her like a football match; first base, second base, third base, and home run, only to then kick her to the curb. Leave her as a crazy ex-girlfriend, bitter and sour with a thirst for vengeance, or a brokenhearted mess, whiny and snotty with mascara streaming down her face, ending up just a complete ghost in a shell, featherbrained and simply useless. Making him do the dirty work of firing a poor snivelling mess only because his stupid friend couldn't control his sadistic carnal urges.

Bakugo sighed.

With just one more glance, he clicked his tongue and huffed, closing his door with a mumble.

"She'll be gone before the week's up."

.

First day went by without speaking to the boss, but she was adamant on making a change the day after.

Realising she couldn't expect him to meet her halfway, she recognised how he needed her to do most of the talking and approaching all on her own.

So, she ran her hands through her hair a couple more times like a comb, straightened her skirt and fixed her blouse, cradled her tablet in her arm for quick easy note-taking and pulled her bag onto the other shoulder.

Holding the boss' coffee in one hand, she took a deep breath and knocked on his door with the other.

He made a grunt, which could have just as easily meant go away instead of enter, but she decided on the latter.

"Good morning, sir."

She trotted inside the spacious office, allowing for just one brief moment to take in the breath-robbing panoramic-view of the entire skyline of Tokyo city shown through his curtain-windows. Refraining from gulping at the vastness of it all as she placed his cup down on the clear glass of his desk.

"Coffee, snack, newspaper, agenda for the day." She listed, placing each item down neatly on his desk, having organised and printed out his schedule the day prior in order to come in prepared.

Feeling slightly like she was baby-sitting. Rethinking the snack, as it might have been a touch too much, giving he was a grown man and not a toddler. Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling he'd either skimmed or hadn't gotten his full-amount of breakfast in the morning. Her sixth-sense telling her he needed it.

The man didn't look up, busy studying his gauntlet, visibly struggling with cleaning out the insides of his gloves, however taking a second to reach towards the newspaper, face scrunched in concentration and mild frustration.

She'd picked up the inkling feeling that he preferred the paper-version news above the electronic kind. Something that seemed to prove as true, as he wordlessly started flipping the pages.

Understanding she wouldn't be getting much more of a reply, she continued explaining the agenda.

"Pro-hero Deku filed to have your ten o'clock meeting moved down to twelve. He's awaiting our reply."

Short, sweet and impersonal is what she'd decided the best tactic when speaking to her new boss, leaving all pleasant but unnecessary chit-chat in the dust.

"Tell him to fuck off." He mumbled, still not looking up, however apparently listening.

Where which she, without much hesitance, replied.

"Sure thing, I'll proceed to tell the number-one-hero to fuck off." She repeated, scribbling down the note on her tablet. "I'm sure he'll understand the meeting will be held at ten like originally scheduled, and no later."

At least she doesn't cry over curse-words. Bakugo thought, pretending to read with an unfazed expression on his face.

She brought him a snack? That's kind of weird. No other assistant had ever done that... but he was hungry.

Strange she knows how he prefers things in a physical form, both the newspaper and the schedule printed out instead of e-mailed to him.

Kirishima had probably shared the knowledge.

He reached for the coffee, making a note how it wasn't poured in some flimsy plastic or paper cup, but a glass mug, just the way he likes it.

Her and Kirishima must have been talking about him for a real long good while for her to know all this about him. Or, maybe it was just all on her whim.

That seemed unlikely.

But still, even with Kirishima's guidance, it was impressive how everything had gone strangely perfect so far.

He put the cup to his lips, taking a sip.

What the.... hell?

The coffee tasted different. Good, but different.

But... really good.

"The HPSC has filed for a call at two-" She continued, not noticing the puzzlement hidden beneath his gruff expression, too occupied with quietly studying his fairly barren office, noting how it was just his desk and a bookshelf and an absurd amount of empty space. "But I believe I can handle the meeting on my own where we're most likely to discuss your public face." She offered, getting a feeling he didn't enjoy discussing trivial maters on call with a room full of suits. "I could tell them to fuck off as well, but I suggest we offer something that'll ease their worries."

Bakugo scoffed.

"Who the fuck knows what they want? Nothing's ever enough for those asshats."

He nearly chugged the rest of the coffee after his statement, setting the cup down with a bang on the glass table-top, going back to tweaking at the gauntlet leaking oil all over his desk.

She noticed the mess. Dirty clean-wipes scattered everywhere as though he were sick, but clearly made dirty by grease, crumpled and tossed aside when no longer useful.

Cringing, she decided to walk about and pick up after him while speaking, feeling awkward simply standing there.

"I could tell them that you're willing to colab more with pro-hero Deku."

He made a sound, but she decided to push on, dumping a sum of a dozen clean-wipes into the trashcan beside his desk.

"Unlike you, the public adores him. And lucky for you, he seems to adore you." She explained, fishing a new container of clean-wipes form her bag, placing it on his desk. "I would think giving the media a piece of your upbringing as childhood friends to rivals to coworkers will be an easy way of giving your likability a boost."

He scoffed, reaching for the fresh wipes she'd placed down in front of him, pulling out a handful to rub away the sweat of his quirk smeared on the insides and clogging up the mechanism of his gauntlet.

"Deku'd get a real fucking hard-on if I ever agreed to some pussy-shit like that."

She didn't pay his swears any mind.

"It's just a thought. Perhaps something you can bring up at your ten o'clock meeting if you change your mind on the matter." She professionally dismissed his unprofessional choice of words. "I'll think of other less crucial options that you might favor until then."

She made some more notes on her pad before continuing.

"Other than that, Red Riot wished to relay a message: he's taking the one to five patrol, and requested you take the morning. I have already made arrangements for another hero to take on the patrol between nine and one where you'll be caught in your meeting with pro-hero Deku. I can do further arrangements to clear up your entire day if you wish to prepare-"

"Nah, I'll do it." He cut her off, standing up and stretching with a yawn. "Anything else people need from me today?"

He grabbed the snack, ripping loose the paper before stuffing his face.

She watched the crumbs fall to the floor and made a mental reminder to vacuum while he was out.

"Not at this moment, but I'll be sure to let you know-"

"Fine. Leave." Mouth full as he ordered, giving a half-hearted swat of his hand in the direction of the door, shooing her off as though she were a bug buzzing about him.

She didn't take offence, rather finding her first day going off to quite the good start seeing how he hadn't yelled at her yet.

"I'll see you at nine, sir."

She turned, walking off just the way she came, opening and closing the door behind her with a soft click.

Bakugo watched her go.

That wasn't terrible.

.

"Fuck's this?" Was the first thing the boss said as soon as he walked into his office.

Back from his patrol, pointing a straight finger to the steaming cup on his desk while she was busy organising the documents stuffed hap-hazardously into the bookshelf, fixing the scotch bottles and glasses that laid hidden behind trash and other documents, fan mail and gifts she'd taken the liberty of opening, most of them written and drawn by little kids.

Looking back over her shoulder, she answered.

"Tea."

Refraining from turning around completely to acknowledge him, otherwise busy dusting the shelves.

"I ain't ask for tea." He grumbled, ridding his arms of his already dirty gauntlets on the table she'd just finished rubbing clean.

Where regardless of the unholy sight, she didn't let herself fret.

"Your nerves are static, tea will smooth them over before Pro-hero Deku arrives." She explained, finishing up with the bookshelf, turning around, taking in the muddled look on his face. "You needn't drink it, I just thought I'd give you the option of..."

She wanted to find a better word for it, but figured the straightforward boss probably favoured straightforwardness.

"A sound mind."

She picked her bag from the floor, and started heading out.

"Drink, if you wish, I'll go see to it that the conference room is-"

"What's this for?"

She stopped at his additional interruption, looking back to see him lifting the suit she'd picked from the dresser beneath the bookshelf, dusted free of rubble and other dirt, ironed to perfection by herself just half an hour before he arrived.

"The suit?"

She tilted her head to the side, looking puzzled.

"Well... it's a business meeting."

She looked him up and down, smog coating his otherwise tan sand-coloured skin, some small cuts still bleeding red.

Her brows furrowed.

"You weren't planning on going like this, were you?"

Her finger pointed at him, bobbing at his hero get-up, trashed and tethered and in no way presentable.

"I ain't dressing up for Deku." He spit the name, and she sighed and rolled her eyes at him.

"Think of it this way."

She threw her hands up in a wordless request for him to hear her out.

"One picture."

She looked him in the eye, needing to make sure he was listening, even though he'd hadn't proved himself to be one that doesn't pay attention.

"One lousy picture on Pro-hero Deku's Snapchat feed or Instagram or Facebook of the two of you in suits would do wonders to your reputation."

It was Bakugo's turn to sigh now, groaning out in exasperation.

"Don't get me wrong-" She defended quickly, noticing him slipping on his focus, needing to reel him back in. "Greasy sweaty pictures of you and Pro-hero Red Riot grant you many fans. The media loves your bromance, but that would double if you prove yourself civilised and friendly to the number-one-hero." She argued, fishing for his agreement, feeling as though she was loosing him to his irritation. "He talks of you constantly, how you were the inspiration for his hero-name, how you made him the man he is today-"

"I ain't gonna freeload of Deku's cheesy poster-boy smile." He insisted, throwing the suit to the desk and plopping down like a sack in his chair.

She huffed, small fists balling at her sides, not ready to give up and not done stating her case. Stomping up to him.

"That's not what you would be doing." She denied. "As it stands right now, the way the public view you is as a bully who cares only for one thing-" She chastised. "But sit down with Pro-hero Deku, he'll ask for a picture, like he always does, probably an autograph as well, and all you need is just grin that trademark smirk that have the girls go weak in the knees and suddenly all of Japan will know that there are plenty of sides to pro-hero Dynamight aside from being an explosive in the field."

She picked up the suit so it wouldn't wrinkle, hanging it on the minimalistic mute servant by the door.

"Furthermore, the HPSC will get off your back and won't get back on it, because that one picture with Deku will have such ripple-effects in your carrier that no one can chastise you for being too scary or unapproachable or-"

"Fine." He stopped her rambling, seeing her point. "Where exactly am I supposed to change?" He had an attitude about his tone stating he didn't really enjoy being forced to see reason, despite it being for his own good.

"First-"

She picked up the remote she'd found stuffed in one of the drawers of the bookshelf, forgotten in the mess, clicking on the button she'd found out opened up for a built-in shower at the corner of the office.

"Shower."

She pointed like a strict mother, or a master ordering her dog around.

"You expect me to shower in front of the entire office?" He asked, tone rather childish in its aggressive sarcasm.

But she only giggled at his attitude, clicking another button on the remote he had no idea controlled anything more but the lights.

"I'll leave you to it."

The blinds rolled over all four of his window walls, the office carpeted and the lights of Tokyo city snuffed out, his glass-cage turned into a blackbox, dim moody lights brightening on their own.

She placed the remote on his desk and turned to leave.

"Call on me if you need help with your tie, sir."

Why did she have to say that?

Almost as though she knows he couldn't tie one even if his life depended on it.

.

He hates wearing suits.

Too tight and constricting, too easy to rip.

And warm and sweaty.

The cotton and wool doesn't breathe enough.

And it's loud.

The polyester-lining swishing and rubbing when he walks.

It's the same type of embarrassing as when girls wear heals that echo through the hallways with each pounding step.

He felt like a fucking show-pony.

An uncomfortable show-pony at that.

He thought of his assistant. How it had only been a day and she was already forcing him to act like some bloody dance-monkey, and succeeding no less.

Why the fuck was he taking advice from some brat in boots anyway?

Dressing up for a dipshit like Deku just because she told him to?

What the fuck has happened?

What the fuck did she put in that tea?

Calm his nerves?

What the fuck does that even mean?

He's always calm! He's never not calm!

He's the fucking definition of calm!

He stormed out, but stopped immidiatly at the giggling behind his door.

"So, any plans for the weekend?"

Kirishima sat on her desk, bright smile plastered on his face, the one that makes people feel as though they can tell him anything, as though they can trust him with their deepest darkest secrets.

"Why yes, actually." She replied, small secretive smile curling her lips, making her dimples pop.

"Hmm, let me guess..." The red-head chuckled a playful light-hearted laugh, wiggling his brows at her. "Sweet-pea goin' on a date?"

She gave am impressed look, mouth slightly parting before giving him a smile.

"How'd you know?"

"My excellent people-reading-skills." He boasted with a grin, before leaning down to her level, voice significantly lower, the voice Bakugo had heard him use too many times on countless poor unsuspecting ladies, each one hanging off his words like moths to fire, so quickly to burn themselves. "You've been smiling to yourself all day."

Her face flushed.

"Have I really?" She hurried out in a whisper, eyes timid like a baby-deer, bashfully looking down at her lap. "Is it that obvious?"

Dorks are so fucking cute.

Kirishima had to stop himself from licking his lips.

"You're cute, getting flustered like a schoolgirl."

The goofy smile on his face turned sharper and sharper, almost amounting to that hungry smirk Bakugo knew always lied in wait like a predator, waiting for the moment he felt he'd played enough with his prey.

"Been a while, buttercup?"

He saw the way Kirishima's eyes gleamed, thrilled and basking in making the little assistant squirm, flustered and embarrassed by his questions and flirty devil-eyes.

"No..." She said sheepishly, obviously lying, but Kirishima just found that cuter.

"But this one's different?" He pried, adoring the way she pressed her knees together beneath the clear glass of the desk, toes pointed inward at each other meekly.

"I don't know..."

Her smile was gone, eyes shy under Kirishima's domineering charisma, resisting the urge to bite her lip.

But someone had heard enough of their conversation to allow it to continue.

"Keep your fucking personal life to yourself." Bakugo barked, announcing himself, rescuing her from getting caught on Kirishima's teeth.

"Wow, Bakugo, dude-" The red-head feigned innocence, but Bakugo gave him a look.

"You got that?"

He looked to the girl who wore an expression that seemed oddly happy to see him, relieved in some sense.

"Yes, sir." She nodded, feeling her heart slow to its normal pace.

"And quit taking up Kirishima's time, he's got better shit to do than flirt with you."

He seemed angry, but she remained bright nonetheless.

"Of course, sir."

Red Riot rolled his eyes with a smirk on his face, throwing his head back with a laugh.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed."

"I ain't fucking around, Shitty-hair." The boss bit out through grit teeth. "If you're gonna stay at my agency, you gotta make yourself useful." Bakugo's voice was gruff and final, words spoken in a tone no one would ever dare defy.

All except Kirishima, of course.

"Grouchy ouchy." He commented, pushing himself off the assistant's desk with an unbothered chuckle. Giving her a wink while flashing a grin, eyes seeming a deeper more bloody shade of red than before. "See yah."

She only gave a stiff smile in return, finding the male's disregard for her personal space less and less charming for every moment she was caught alone, forced to share intimate moments with him, watching his mask chip and flake away, revealing the man she got the unsettling feeling had less pearly-white ulterior motives lurking behind that perfected pearly-white smile on his face.

"You." Her boss's piercing voice cut her from her thoughts, making her take her eyes off the retreating muscular back of the topless hero.

Gaze snapping to the tall broad figure still standing in the threshold to his office, groomed free of his usual coat of battle-rubble and instead clad in a velvet-red silk-shirt, oblivion-black vest hugging him perfectly, tailored to perfection with vines of pale-roses adorning the sides.

His scarred calloused hand gripped onto the complimentary tie in visible frustration.

"Tie this."

She sprung to her feet, pondering whether or not she should thank him for chasing the rowdy red-head away, but decided not to, while fingering the soft silk-tail to his tie.

She needed to tip back and forth on her heels and toes in order to get the height on him, still whole heads shorter, arms reaching almost as though she were to embrace him as she swung the tie around the back of his neck.

And, with having tied a couple hundred ties in her life, she made to look up instead of focusing on her handiwork.

"Your hair does that naturally?" She asked, viewing the way it had already poofed to all corners all without being gelled or blown with a hairdryer.

Looking explosive.

"Like a Pomeranian." She commented, getting the feeling he needed a distraction, where between being stuffed into a suit and awaiting the number-one-hero he seemed far too tense for her to simply ignore.

He made a grunt, but she swore his face softened just a bit. The knot set deep between his brows loosening, his gaze set forward, skimming the top of her head as she looped his tie once then twice.

"Don't ever say shit like that again."

A giggle bubbled from her throat as she smiled up at him.

"Of course, sir."

Tweaking his tie to sit perfectly beneath the collar of his burgundy shirt, brushing his shoulders down when she was done.

"I meant a proud lion, obviously."

It was disarming having someone other than the likes of Kirishima and the devil himself be so calm around him, especially a person who wasn't even a hero, especially a woman.

A small cute woman who brought him snacks and tied his tie for him, who compared him to a cuddly fluffy couch-dog the size of a football and teased him when his pride was hurt by it.

He refrained from swallowing or coughing or stuttering on his words when she caught him staring at her for just a moment too long.

He looked off to the side, serious frown returning.

"What time is it?" He grumbled.

"The current time is nine forty-eight." She answered while walking to retrieve his jacket that was left back in his office, stopping abruptly in her tracks.

The floor was absolutely flooded.

He certainly hadn't bothered trying to maintain the water to one part of the giant space, but rather spread it out to every which corner of the room.

He observed as she tiptoed about the puddles on the floor, manoeuvring to reach his desk in her cute flat-heeled boots, small delicate hands reaching for the last edition to his suit.

Again looking to the floor to avoid slipping and falling on her butt, smiling once having made it back safely to the threshold of the door.

He was half-waiting for her to throw the jacket around his shoulders and help him into it, taking a moment longer than what he was proud of to receive it as she handed it to him.

He tread on the jacket by himself, but the nitpicky assistant followed shortly, coming to his aid with smoothing and straightening it over his shoulders and sleeves, pulling forth a pair of cufflinks she'd kept safe in the pocket to her bag, attaching them to decorate his wrists.

"You have about ten minutes before pro-hero Deku arrives."

He groaned, carding his warm hands through his still damp locks in hope to dry them faster.

With closed eyes he sighed, wanting to go punch something, but with the tiny assistant standing right there, so intimately close, and smelling so enticingly good while looking so adorable and pleased with her handiwork, he didn't want to disappoint her with ripping or ruining his suit with scorch marks.

So, he opted for a less nuclear option.

"What animal is he?"

Her eyes widened as she peered up at him, his question muttered but still clear, causing her smile to widen.

"Animal?"

She gave a false puzzled look.

"He's no animal... Green hair? He's obviously a vegetable."

Giggling, she kept tampering with the suit, making it sit perfectly, touching him so softly he wished she wouldn't touch him at all with how much he was beginning to sweat under her gentle hands stroking delicate touches over his tense and abused muscles, being so fearlessly careless around him despite his reputation for being a temperamental asshole, where aside from that, additionally, she was also doing something so daring as mothering her own bloody boss.

"Something between a celery and a broccoli." She mused. "Though-" She giggled, and his heart seemed to stutter in his ribcage at how endearing he found the fruitful sound. "There was this one time he'd been on vacation and came back looking like a carrot."

Bakugo cracked on smile.

"That fucking idiot." He laughed.

The boss was laughing.

And it wasn't at all in the same gut-wrenching manor the other pro-hero had chuckled when squeezing her thigh.

Sure, Pro-hero Dynamight was rough around the edges and a bit colourful with his language, but he was by no means the raging demon others had made him out to be.

She was left smiling like a goof, feeling as though she'd fully completely and utterly crushed it on her first real day as Mr. Bakugo's new assistant.

.

She walked on ahead, taking the express elevator straight to the bottom-floor in order to guide Deku to the destination of the meeting, having told Bakugo to go along with Kirishima to the conference-room.

"The fuck was that about?" Kirishima asked with his normal jockish attitude, dressed in a grey suit and a black shirt, wearing his signature apologetic toothy grin, having his hands up in defence as he followed Bakugo into the elevator.

Annoyed, he didn't bother giving the red-head a glance, standing strictly straight, eyes locked on the closing elevator doors, hands balled at his sides, a growl in his tone as he spoke.

"Keep it in your pants for once, will yah?"

Kirishima cocked his head, looking at his friend slyly.

"So... you finally like the assistant I picked out for you?"

He had that playful tone of voice that Bakugo hated, the one that was always so adamant on embarrassing him.

"She's fine." He answered curtly, still with his focus on the clean view of Tokyo city through the glass walls of the elevator.

"Cute too." The red-head pushed, just like he always did.

Pushing his buttons, pushing his temper, pushing his sanity.

"Don't you think?"

The ash-blonde could hear the type of salacious, almost sadistic, mockery kept on Kirishima's tongue, how it seemed to drip with venom, those sharp teeth waiting to spot a weakness, only to pounce and sink them in deep.

"I guess." Bakugo offered, knowing ignoring the red-head was just as much use as indulging him, thinking that keeping his words short and arbitrary would help put an end to his friend's bloodlust.

But alas, the curt answer was more than enough to have the stars in Kirishima's red eyes go supersonic.

Kirishima smirked.

"Come on..."

The boss was stupid if he thought the sturdy-hero was going to let his obvious lack of dislike towards the pretty little helper go on unchecked.

"You're subtle but I see you."

His grin glinted, eyes shining with an eager will to tease.

"The way you look her up and down when she isn't looking."

Kirishima chuckled.

"I always knew you were a momma's boy."

Bakugo sighed with a rust, pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to tune the mocking jeering of the stubborn rowdy male out of his mind, hoping to grab onto the calm he felt after talking to the assistant. The laughter of making fun of Deku now tainted by his own friend pulling his leg.

"You love seeing her clean up after you. Pick out your clothes, give you snacks... bet you wanna button up that blouse, give her tits a suck."

"For fuck's sake, Kiri, would you shut up?" The ash-blonde snapped and turned, brows set deep on his face, eyes narrowed to mere red slits as he glared at the grinning asshole he was stuck with.

"I worry about you, man!" Kirishima said in defence, worn hand coming to pet the seething threatening angry blonde's face, with no concern for being bitten, pinching and pulling on the chub of his cheek with a smile. "It's not natural to be this good looking and not fuck."

Bakugo pushed him off with a hand grabbing his collar, a snarl on his lips like the face of a wolf.

"Maybe I just ain't a hyperactive hormonic spaz like you." He seethed, letting him go with another shove.

"Yeah yeah, insult me all you want, you angry dandelion..."

Kirishima pulled himself off the glass-wall, still bearing his smile.

"But you know I'm right."

He straighten his tie and pulled on his jacket to flatten the wrinkles made by Bakugo's split-second hands-on anger.

"She's perfect for you, man. Sweet and nice, smart and tough, cute as a fucking button, and so professional, so eager to please..." The red-head listed, trying to get another rise out of the explosion-hero. "I mean... could you imagine her down on her knees-"

"Stop." Bakugo's voice was definite, carrying the type of tone that made goosebumps spring to the surface, but as usual had no effect on the sturdy-hero.

"Oh, so you have already?" He teased, smiling knowingly.

"I'm this close to punching you, Shitty-hair."

Bakugo showed two fingers that were touching, but his threats hadn't spooked Kirishima in a long time.

"I'm just calling 'em like I see 'em." The red-head said, knowing they were as thick as thieves despite all the empty-threats and crude name-calling, and how the elevator was their boys locker-room where they could share all wolfish dirty secrets.

He just needed to give the blonde a little nudge and he'd soon fold.

"You wanna tap that, zip her out of that skirt, bend her over your lap-"

"I swear, Kiri..." Bakugo growled, but with less acute anger this time, a difference Kirishima had learned meant he was lowering his walls, granting him enough of an opening to cut him off.

"If you're scared, we can do it together, Kachan~" He laughed, and the blonde sighed heavily, closing his eyes, exasperated to the point of defeat.

"I fucking hate this elevator..." He mumbled.

"What?!" The red-head feigned offence, clutching his chest. "We have our most important conversations in here!"

"Fuck you." Dynamight drawled, trying his best to fight off the small smile itching to spread on his face, body slumping in defeat, hunching forward as he rolled his eyes.

"No, fuck her." His friend urged in a whisper like the devil on his shoulder.

"She's useful." The ash-blonde argued, but the red-head merely clicked his tongue at the weak statement, offering a solution.

"Then fuck her and marry her."

"Just don't touch her."

Bakugo was serious, more so than what he usually was, and Kirishima could tell by the way he looked him directly in his eye, pools of red bleeding into a set of equally red puddles.

The sturdy-hero laughed, slapping a hand on the other man's shoulder and giving it a firm reassuring squeeze.

"Don't worry, boss."

Kirishima smiled, a smile lacking the childish mockery from before, a friendly trustworthy smile, the smile Bakugo knew was reserved for only the very few that knew him through and through.

"She's all yours."

.

Next day, Bakugo walked into his office. His schedule, newspaper, coffee and snack were already lined up on the desk which had his gauntlets looking just shy of brand-new if it weren't for the marring in the paint-job. His hero-costume too, which he'd left in a heap on the wet floor the day prior, was not only hung to avoid creasing but washed free of rumble and smoke from yesterday's patrol.

"Bloody hell... is she a suck-up or a work-a-holic?" He breathed, noting how the floors had been polished as well, strictly clean, and that the mess that had littered the bookshelf with fan-mail and other documents he hadn't bothered to sort out was now tidy, papers neatly placed in binders labeled with easily understood titles, organised after importance. "Probably afraid I'll fire her..."

Not before he'd taken in the total lack of chaos, coming to terms with how it was still his office, getting over the feeling that he wasn't welcome in the sheer tidiness of everything, shook from the questions he voiced out loud about the assistant, was the vixen herself standing outside his door, drumming a little tune on the glass separating them.

"Come in." He granted, watching as she popped open the handle and stepped inside, same practical boots from the day before, but accompanied by white-knitted leg-warmers this time as it was a colder day. The blouse was swapped out for a warmer sweater, large on her small frame, but the skirt remained the same, tight over the curve of her ass, formfitting running down her thighs, a slit in the overlapping fabric, giving for a peek at her one knee.

It was enough to make his throat tighten.

"Did you see?"

His eyes traveled up to her face.

"What?" He nearly stuttered, almost tripping on his tongue and the water pooling beneath it.

"The popularity poll!" She squealed, walking with hurried enthusiastic steps over to his desk. "You've already risen five places! And it hasn't even been a full twenty-four hours yet!"

She supported her tablet on her forearm, resting her elbow on her hip, similar to how one would hold a toddler.

He didn't know why he was making the comparison.

Or he did...

"I always thought GEMGD was a bully, turns out he's just a bit rough around the edges. That smirk has me weak. Explosion-boy looks even hotter in a suit! Dynamight makes my heart go boom!" She read aloud. "All the comments are for you! And they're endless."

Her finger scrolled through the display on the screen, eyes running over the fan-comments beneath Deku's post of the two of them. The green-haired freckle-faced hero smiling a big gritted grin, eyes scrunched closed from the force of it, whereas her ash-blonde boss bore a more crazed expression, open-mouthed smirk stretched across his face, way huskier than his goofy counterpart who'd also had the audacity to throw up a a peace sign behind him, looking like a pair of bunny-ears; Deku's trademark.

She decided not to comment on how cute they looked.

"They're begging pro-hero Deku to post more of his quote on quote best friend."

"You said one lousy picture?"

He raised a brow, looking displeased.

She bit her lip, and he really wished she didn't as he felt the pull in his pants immediately, something twitching by the display of her looking down at her feet, something so unfairly sexy in the timidity of her grinding the tip of her toe into the floor.

"Well... what I meant was that... one lousy picture could spark something..." She explained sheepishly. "We'll still have to feed the fire a bit from time to time."

She bent down to gather the cardboard shipping package he'd ignored once stepping inside his office, dropping the large box down on the desk with a thud.

"But you're a big boy- you can survive a photoshoot every now and again, and a couple of ten minute interviews."

He should tell her to fuck off with the name-calling, but damn... he really didn't want to.

"Oh- that reminds me-"

Small hands laid flat on the top of the box, she drummed on the cardboard with her fingers.

"Heroes Fashion Magazine request you model for them."

"Modeling?" He nearly shouted, face twisted in confused disgust, offended she'd even suggest such a thing. "Fuck no."

"Well-" She ignored his outburst. "I said we'll consider it and they already sent over a box."

She patted the package put down on his desk with a smile.

"I took the liberty of taking a look and I think you'll actually find what they've come up with in your image quite amazing."

Her attitude was a nice thing in the morning, he thought, despite talking about things he didn't give a shit about.

"They've done some designs based around your trademark skull, which I think will be a huge aid, given right now it's associated more with villainous things rather than heroic, when we want to give the image of a badass and not a bully."

And there she goes with the fucking nicknames again, making his head hot.

"Also, Pro-hero Deku would like to post a picture of the two of you in your youth."

"He's already posted the class-photo." The boss mumbled.

"I believe this one is more in the time of your kindergarten days." She informed, searching through the files kept in her bag, pulling out a sheet of paper. "Here, I printed it out for you."

Laying the picture on the desk, she smiled with a tilt of her head, looking over the two boys' bright faces, her boss wearing a black T-shirt with a skull-print on it, similar to the one the paparazzi so often catches him wearing when dressing casually. She found it quite adorable and amusing how the design seemed to have grown up alongside him. Then there was the All-Might trading-cards the two of them clutched so protectively in each their small hands, their ambition of following the great hero in his footsteps clear in their large eyes.

"It's cute." She stated.

And though it was put simply, the comment nearly had him blush if he hadn't given his thigh a rough pinch to control himself, head pounding from yesterday's conversation with Kirishima in the elevator, unable to look at her or listen to her without twisting everything into a something dirty.

"I think it'll be good to show the public you were a bit of a geek."

And then there was the fucking teasing name-calling shot at him left and right.

He could prove to her how much of a geek he was. He was a boy-scout. He still remembers every knot in the book.

He would love to try them all out on her-

"Fine." He gruffly voiced his approval, quitting his own raving thoughts.

She made a couple movements on the screen to her tablet, noting his answer.

"Very well, sir, I'll inform him."

And at that she turned on her heel to leave.

"Oi, toots." He called. "Stay."

Stopping in her tracks, she spun around and blinked, preparing herself for a correction or a scolding in the form of a loud slew of curse-words.

"Something's been bothering me."

She felt her heart climb up her throat, as though she'd swallowed some living creature who fought to claw its way to freedom through her mouth.

"My coffee’s different every time." He stated, voice strangely serious to be discussing coffee. "It’s... not bad. Just weird." He informed, and she was left with another deafening pause to wonder what she'd done that was an issue. "Is your quirk making coffee or something?"

He'd been wondering what the tiny assistant had been gifted with for a while, not having found it on file as it probably wasn't worth the effort. Deciding, as her boss, it was in his rights to to simply demand an answer of his employee.

She blinked.

"Oh-"

Her heart rested and she exhaled in relief, smiling while giving a short laugh.

"My quirk." She repeated, resting her focus, forgetting her anticipation of being shunned and fired. "Well... uhm..."

Her brows knitted, pondering what way best to describe her rather mundane quirk to the man who literally sweats explosives.

"Boring and stereotypical, or ironic, as it may sound, it's called Assist." She informed, hands displayed in offering. "Basically... I guess... you could say that I naturally know what people need and how to assist them." She explained, but came to her own correction quickly. "It only counts for small things though..." She blurted out. "You know, like... what type coffee you'd prefer and... whether you wish for your schedule to be printed out or sent to you."

The man gave a huff, indicating his understanding.

"Obviously, you wouldn't be working here if you could cure cancer."

He wore a new type of smile she hadn't seen yet, a type of smug grin she'd expect to see on haughty jocks back in middle-school, eyes jaded, relaxed as he looked at her.

"Practically made for this job, aren't yah?"

She nearly pouted, but sucked it up and stiffened her upper lip.

"It might sound mediocre, but it sure comes in handy." She defended herself, raising her chin proudly. "So while you’re off keeping the world safe, I’ll be here tending the fort, keeping you happy."

He gave another smile and a small amused chuckle, eyes gleaming in a way she found deeply unsettling, the same type of eerie focus she'd seen displayed on Kirishima, the type of look she wanted to run from.

"Hate to break it to you, buttercup, but it’ll take a lot more than a good cup of coffee to make me happy."

She swallowed thickly, trying to keep up appearances despite feeling her face drain.

"Ah- of course, sir."

She ignored her additional sense telling her he was thirsting for something far different than coffee altogether. Wishing she could rid herself of the feeling before allowing her mind to slip and stray to what indecencies she felt were suggested in his tone, knowing she was being ridiculous for even thinking that her esteemed boss was hinting at something of the sort, knowing it was all most likely due to her own stupid female instinctive fears twisting his words.

But then she felt the unmistakable pull of her quirk telling her the truth of it.

Her cheeks heated as the treacherous urge to assist him with his needs arose like instinct, feeling the place between her thighs get hot as she busied herself with reminders that he was a public servant who protects. That he would never ask something like that of her even if he humoured the thought within the privacy of his own mind.

He was her boss.

An honourable man.

A respectable professional.

A hero.

But a man nonetheless. And she can't blame people for having urges, and perhaps... was her skirt too short maybe?

His focus left her and she felt like she could breathe properly again, still feeling dizzy as she watched his hands aim for the newspaper, his eyes skimming the headings.

"At least you’re not useless like the last one." He offered and she gladly accepted, too thankful to be let off his stare to pick up the derogatory substance of his sentence.

Face brightening a smidge.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

She brushed the icky feeling of his former attitude off on the fact that boys gotta be boys sometimes, just the same as girls will be girls at moments too, though not able to discard of the incident completely without giving her outfit a second thought and the mildly seductive gloss she wore on her lips, feeling stupid while thinking it was perhaps in her best interest to say goodbye to the tight pencil-skirt hugging her ass.

"Sir."

Dismissing herself, she turned her back, red eyes looked up from pretending to read as she opened the door and slipped out, leaving her boss to his own thoughts.

Her quirk should be called Housewife.

.

Following his schedule, he left early, the little assistant wishing him luck from where she sat working at her desk, waving him goodbye with dancing fingers as the elevator doors slowly closed and sent him down to ground level.

Patrol was uneventful in its boring four hour-long walk. A couple of small-fry villains quaking in their boots, regretting picking Pro-hero Dynamight's district as he sent them flying, leaving them to be scraped from the sidewalk up by his sidekicks.

Finding himself counting the minutes until he'd be back in the office.

Good thing it was a quiet day in the streets, what with him being so very distracted and all, conjuring up dirty pictures of his cute little assistant. Sitting at her desk with her knees glued together, squeezing her thighs close, so oblivious to his stares. Lost in her own world when planning his itinerary for him, making herself so useful for him, his pretty little helper, doing her best to keep her promise, to make him happy. Hand holding onto her pen, tip of it caught in her mouth, plump lips having no issue sucking on the small thing, making his head spin, thinking of how she'd handle something bigger.

He came back just shy of ten o'clock, happy to miss getting caught with Kirishima in the elevator again.

But, the sturdy-hero had already sowed his seeds in the muck of the explosion-hero's head, and the roots had already twisted their way through his gut, flowers blooming, nectar oozing and dripping, spilling down the vines, sweetening his senses, pollen fogging up his mind, only allowing him to think of one pretty little busy worker-bee, and how he wanted her to lick up his honey-spill-

"The fuck are you wearing?"

This was the last fucking straw. She couldn't be fucking serious with her innocent act, she had to be doing this on purpose.

She looked up from her tablet, eyes round as she processed his lack of greeting, before looking down at her clothes, trying to spot what he was attacking.

"Oh- I tripped with my coffee and spilled it all over my sweater, so I decided to- uhm- test out the product...?" She explained, pulling on the black fabric to the oversized hoodie she'd pulled on.

His trademark large white skull plastered on the front.

His head pounded, growing hotter, boiling, palms sweaty at his sides, tongue feeling heavy and large with the sting of sweet saliva pooling beneath it. Something snapped in his pelvis, drumming, pumping, growing warm and heavy, thankfully kept hidden in the expanse of his large cargo-pants.

"You should model." He let slip, eyes kept on the hoodie thrown on her tiny shape.

The cut was definitely finer, skull tweaked to look uniquely and unmistakably Dynamight. The edges were rough, decidedly unfinished. She'd tied the strings to the hood into a little bow on her collar, but he hadn't the time to bask in the details, when he was too caught up in thinking how it looked as though she'd put on one of his hoodies, mind forcing forth the thought of him having fucked her good first, made her sweaty and dumb on his dick before finishing up with dressing her up, showing the entire world how she belonged to him.

He cleared his throat, brought back to reality by the blank face she gave him, puzzled by his prior comment, undecided whether it was an inappropriate compliment or not.

He wouldn't give her any more time to think about it too much.

"Tell the magazine people they have a go on the merch."

She let his former comment slip, deciding to forget about it.

"And the modelling?"

"Thirty minutes tops." He answered, walking towards his office.

"Very well, sir. I'll inform HFM right away." The cheeriness in her tone had him curl his brows and squeeze his eyes shut, fists clenched at his sides, stiff as he opened the door.

"I have reports, don't bother me." He informed coldly, not waiting for a reply before he shut his door, never giving her a second glance, even as he handled the remote that had his blinds gliding over his windows, leaving him alone in the darkness of his office, no pretty assistant with adorable doe-eyes giving him anxious flickering looks as he unbuckled his belt and popped the button to his pants, zipping open his fly to free the painfully erect large tented bump in his boxers.

"M'fuuhck..."

His mind reeled, letting his eyes glide close.

Where would he take her first?

Hmm...

His hand dipped beneath the band of his expensive black briefs, running over a bush of mousy blonde curls to wrap around the warm thickness fighting desperately against its confinement.

On the desk?

Lay her down on her back, hand on her throat, thighs spread by his hips, legs tangled over his back, keeping him close, moaning so prettily for him, perky tits bouncing on every thrust up into her tight cunt, nipples hard between his lips. She'd gasp as he bit down on the little nubs, cry out for him, eyes large and glossy looking up at him, waiting for her orders.

"Fucking hell..." He groaned, tugging slowly on his base, so sensitive he had to hiss when his thumb brushed over a particular pulsating purple vein, bulging tip blushed an angry red, a drop of pre-cum spilling sweetly from his slit, running down his shaft, getting caught on his fingers as he smeared the wetness up and down his length.

Or maybe he should bend her over it instead?

Pretty tits mushed against the desk, her small wrists caught in a cross behind her back, held tightly in his fist, cute face blushed red and dewy with sweat, pressed against the cool glass, lips parted and panting for breath, crying just a bit by how her hips would ache against the edge of the table, but blissful nonetheless with his cock filling her up snugly form behind, cute ass smiling at him, begging for him to give the soft plush flesh a squeeze or a little slap that would have her yelp and hiccup on her moans.

"Fuck..." He chewed his bottom-lip, fucking up into his hand slowly, savouring the feel of his fingers wrapped tightly, rubbing over every sensitive vein, squeezing on them just like her tight pussy would.

On his black Italian-leather chair?

Have her kneel on the seat, back curved like a pretty little kitty, ass arched up into him, rubbing against his crotch, teasing him desperately for his cock. He'd have his hand yanking her hair back, strong fingers tangled in her soft locks, making her stare up at him, her hands gripping onto the plush chair for support, nails marring the leather as he rocks into her, make her drool at the curve of his cock brushing up into her cervix, his other hand slithered around her stomach, coarse finger painting cruelly delicious patterns into her throbbing little clit.

"Nah..."

He'd fuck her against the window.

All of Tokyo at his feet, laid bare before him, just like his tiny tight assistant wrapped around his cock, clinging to him so needfully, small soft hands holding onto him, thrown around his shoulders and down his back, warm doughy thighs hugging around his torso, squealing for him each time he snaps his hips forward, buried deep in her grateful little wet cunt. Pretty words on her lips.

Am I doing good, sir? Please, sir, I want to make you happy... I want to give you what you need~ I want to help you, sir. I want to be useful to you, sir. Please, let me be useful~ Thank you, sir~

I love you, sir.

"Holy fuck-"

He bit his tongue, feeling a bead of sweat roll down his temple.

Good thing she'd been a doll and placed a new packet of clean-wipes on his desk... what with the white mess decorating it.

.

The boss remained in his office well beyond working hours.

She contemplated whether or not she should knock on the door and tell him she was clocking out, but decided it was unnecessary in the end as he'd given her strict instructions not to bother him.

Coming back early next morning, walking into the spacious floor only to find her desk, not exactly cleaned out, but gone entirely.

The blinds where still drawn before Mr. Bakugo's office, where she, anxious as it made her, walked to the door and knocked.

He was prepared to bark at anyone to leave him the fuck alone, but recognising the delicate tune drummed on his door, he would make an exception.

"Come in."

"Morning, boss..." She stated timidly, as though something was amiss and he felt his gut wrench in fear that she might have heard him moaning her name all day long the day prior when he was supposedly doing paperwork reports. "I hate to ask... but have you seen my desk-" She asked, before turning her head to look over what was taking up the former empty corner-space in her boss' office.

"It's been moved." He informed while she took in the relocation of her usually lonely desk, still positioned four meters away from mr. Bakugo's desk, yet no longer separated by neither glass wall or blinds. "Is that a problem?" He dared.

"No..." She replied, still confused as to what purpose the change would benefit, but mostly if he at all would like it this way, be it beneficial or not. "But are you sure I won't be a bother?"

She's been a bother from the start.

"I ain't here too often." He explained.

"Well then..."

She fiddled with her fingers, braiding hem together as she briefly thought it over, thinking she actually wouldn't mind a space of her own where she could escape the lingering stares of one certain conversational red-haired hero.

"This is perfect!" She cheered then, not in need of more convincing. "Saves me the time of knocking."

She smiled, placing her bag on her chair, already liking her little nook in the office, gratefully admiring how whomever had moved her desk had made sure everything was still in their designated place, eyes skimming the digital clock stating the time, brows furrowing.

"You're here very early?"

Her question gave him just enough of a warning before she turned around to look at him, allowing him the time to take his eyes off her ass and wipe his expression free of the sour look he'd adopted when spotting how she wasn't wearing the skirt he'd come to love.

"I didn't leave." He confessed, flipping the page of the hero-magazine he was pretending to be absorbed in.

"Have you not slept?" She sounded worried, and his gut warmed at her sweet motherly tone, hand twitching, wanting to pet his cock despite having wrung it for every drop his balls were worth all night.

He sighed heavily, a type of growl that sounded fed-up.

"I have."

"Not well, I gather?" She pushed, as though scolding him, placing his coffee, newspaper and schedule down on his desk.

"It's fine."

He reached for the coffee, stomach fluttering for the taste of what new flavour she'd concocted for him today, though letting none of his excitement show on his face.

She hummed in suspicious thought.

"Well, you don't have patrol until two o'clock, which isn't for another eight hours."

Tapping her pointer-finger on the schedule placed before him, she continued.

"And as you have the time, where there are no ongoing big cases that require your attention at the moment, I could make arrangements for you to sleep on the couch in the conference room, or you could go home and have a nap before returning-"

"I ain't a child, toots." He glared at her, face in a frown.

She took it lightly, which only served to frustrate him even more, with how she seemed to brush away his anger like a mother does her temper-tantrum-throwing child.

"Of course not, sir."

"Then quit suggestion shit like naps." He ordered.

"Very well, sir."

She nodded, still with that small soft smile that seemed unshakable.

"Have you eaten?"

Why ask if she already knows the answer!?

He gripped the arm-rest, knuckles turning white in his frustration.

"No..." Voice in a muddled grumble, childishly admitting defeat.

"Well then..." Her tone so charmingly patronising, eyes soft as she looked at him. "Does the grown man want a snack?"

Who the fuck does she think she is!?

Poking fun at her own boss like it's nothing?!

Not just her boss, but one of Japan's greatest and toughest heroes!

Ridiculing him in his own fucking office!

He ought to teach her a little lesson...

But for fuck's sake- just give him his fucking snack already!

He snatched the offered food from her palm with another grunt, slumping back in his chair.

"Wipe that fucking smile off your face."

Her lips pulled further up into a smile, making her eyes shine.

"I'll try my best, sir."

.

It was late, roughly seven o'clock, and everyone had long gone home for the day. But, with the rising her boss had done in the popularity ranks, he'd received a ton of new fan-mail, which she felt the need to go through before calling it a day.

Meaning, she was there alone.

However, not for much longer, for as she was slipping the last fan-letter into it's designated binder, was someone staggering into the office.

She nearly screamed, jumping from her seat, needing to squint for a moment or two to recognise who it was, not having noticed she'd been working in the dark for the last half hour. But, as her eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room did she not only identify her boss, but also the blood staining him.

"Oh my goodness!" She squealed, hurrying over, helping him to the chair. "Are you okay!?"

It wasn't fair to him that she was this perfect.

"It's nothing." He brushed off, groaning as he repositioned himself in a strive to get more comfortable with the ache in his body.

"Are you sure?"

She sounded too sweet, too worried when looking at him, brows knitted all hopelessly, eyes large and shimmering, lips formed into a little pout.

If she kept looking at him like that he was sure to do something he might regret.

"What?" He snapped, shaking her from her blank-staring state.

She gave a little whimper.

"Nothing..."

Shaking her head just a bit, yet remained just as distressed.

"It’s just..."

She bit her lip, eyes skimming over the many bleeding cuts decorating his upper-body, no mind to the blood staining her own clothes from helping him sit down.

"It's just- uhm- your needs are all over the place."

He chuckled, unable to hold it back, finding her absolutely adorable.

"Then get to them."

It feels good having a pretty little thing fuss over nothing more than a couple of scratches.

"Isn't that your job?"

She drew in a breath, trying to toughen up with a nod.

"Of course, sir."

Walking to the bookshelf, she started pulling out drawers, mumbling some to herself.

"Assistant, receptionist, maid, baby-sitter- Mr. Kirishima should have put nurse on the list of qualifications as well..."

Coming back, she slid a rocks-glass onto the desk, lifting the diamond lid from the crystal whisky-bottle before pouring him a drink. Proceeding to pull out cotton-pads and disinfectant, resting her butt against the desk as she reached out small pretty hands, softly caressing his chin to steady him when with the other hand dabbing softly at the cut on his brow.

"Does it hurt?" She asked, eyes focussed on her task. "I'm sorry, stupid question, obviously it hurts." Dismissing herself with a shake of her head, she shut up in favour of focussing.

He didn't care much that it was a stupid question to ask.

Not when she was this sweet with him.

She continued working, placed between him on the chair and the desk she leaned on. Her knees between his knees, right in front of him. Tight black jeans, form-fitting around her thighs, over the curve of her hips, tightened in a stop at her waist with a black belt, where his large hands would sit so perfectly, squeezing her, pulling her close.

He didn't know what he was doing before it was done.

Hands placed exactly where he'd imagined them, hoisting her up to sit on the cool glass surface of his desk.

"Sir? wha-"

He grabbed her chin before she could finish, fingers pressing into the adorable chubs of her cheeks, squishing her lips into a soft pillowy welcome, greeting his lips with ease as he pushed forward, sinking in, mushing his face against hers, kissing softly, slowly and yearningly, without teeth and without aggression, but deeply, with passion, with an urge to stop breathing, incessantly, with a mellow yet disturbingly hungry bottomless obsession, with a thirst to put a fire out.

Her brows furrowed. Hands dropping the blood-dirtied cotton pad when needing to meet with the warmth of his chest, steadying him in his needy pursuit.

She had been so adamant on making it.

So determined on succeeding at this job so many others had failed in.

She was so certain she could survive crude merciless curse-words flung at her face, completely aware she wouldn't be receiving any form of appreciation back for her hard work.

She'd heard Kirishima would try his best to have his go and was prepared to block any of his advances, having made peace with the fact.

But... having brushed-off the cries of her quirk, she wasn't at all expecting to have to deal with choking on her own boss forcing his tongue down her throat as well.

She couldn't pull away, wasn't allowed to, only able to keep her eyes wide as her boss sucked her face, finally detaching with a thick string of drool connecting their tongues, his heated gaze troubling her, suddenly feeling very small, stuck and caught before his tall massive muscled form.

Her sixth sense was a boiler at this point.

"Ah- I- I think I should leave, sir." She tripped at the taste of his tongue, keeping her lips parted, hesitant on swallowing the mixture of his and her spit caught dripping, smeared and painted on the walls of her mouth.

His breath was warm on her face, panted on her glossy wet lips.

He didn't pull any further off, even after her statement, finding it quite amusing how small her tiny little hands were, placed on his chest as though it would do her any good.

Looking into her large anxious little eyes, he could only think of two things.

She'll definitely quit if he let's her leave now...

... and he can't afford to lose her...

And with that in his mind his hands moved from the chubs of her cheeks to her throat.

"Ah- sir?" She gasped, but the breath caught in her throat, kept from her by the way his hands slowly and carefully squeezed her free of air.

Her hands clung to his arms, trying to push him off, tears given just enough time to slip from her moon-wide eyes, but he remained happy when she gave out quickly.

Like a flower in a forest fire.

.

She awoke softly.

Looking like a scene in a movie.

A way too cute girl laid down in a bed of expensive black sheets she didn't belong in.

He'd brushed the locks of hair out of her face, half-way submerged in the dune of his pillow, small hand clutching the air in her sweet dreaming.

Soft snores left the rise and fall of her chest where he'd done the dirty deed of removing her blood-stained clothes, leaving her in a pretty pink lace-bra, cupping the light weight of her breasts in a rosey pattern just shy of being see-through, and her cute matching panties, a simple and chaste piece, but still so very tempting in it's innocence.

He'd needed to stop himself before going too far, his rough hands running over smooth plush flesh, becoming addicted to the softness before backing off with a frustrated groan, pulling his armchair up to the bed, reduced to simply watching her, studying every freckle adorning her flawless shape. Every curve, every dip, noting down some unexpected scars marring her skin, cocking his head at the marks, wondering what caused them, if she was a clumsy little thing who snagged herself on sharp things or if she somehow was a tiny little brawler at some time. He chuckled at the thought, thinking the former was more likely.

She made a moan, humming out a tiny pretty whimper as her brows furrowed, scrunching as she grasped for the light seeping in through her eyelids.

"Morning."

He rested his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together as he hunched forward with his lips kissing his knuckles, monitoring her with keen eyes.

"How're you feeling?"

He knew she was fine.

He'd choked her out with expertise, knowing with out-most certainty he hadn't hurt her, only merely forced her into a safe temporary loss of consciousness.

Her eyes fluttered open, stirred by his gravely tone, met with blurry surroundings.

Brows remaining curled as she blinked slowly on repeat, confused and adorable as she tried adjusting her eyes to the light, most definitely disoriented.

The poor thing.

"Scared shitless, I bet."

With eyes growing larger, and breath picking up speed she flushed and shivered on a coat of goosebumps upon the voice, finding her boss sitting in an armchair a rough meter away from the soft but foreign bed she was placed in.

"Mr. Bakugo?" She croaked, eyes growing more and more swivelled with panic, mind crumbling, spinning and splitting until it ached when peering down at herself, seeing she was in nothing but her flimsy undergarments. "I don't understand-" She spluttered. "What happened? What-"

Panicking, she tried covering herself up with the Egyptian-cotton-sheets, a type of soft comfort he bet she'd never had the luxury of feeling against her skin.

"Where am I?"

He pushed himself up from his chair and come to her side, trying to calm her down once she started hyperventilating at the sight of her bound hands.

"You're safe. M'sorry I tied you up-"

His attempt at soothing her wasn't appreciated, only aiding in making her even more panicked.

"What's going on- sir? What did I do? What did... what did you do?"

She tried scurrying away from him, pushing with the balls of her feet digging into the mattress.

"You... tried to kill me."

"No." He dismissed with a click of his tongue, grabbing her conjoined wrists as he climbed after where she tried to worm herself away from him, pulling her back to rest on the pillow. "I just knocked you out." He defended, tone casual as though it was the most obvious thing, as though she was overreacting.

"Knock me out? Why- You-"

Tears sprung to her eyes as she writhed beneath the large man, feeling smaller by the second, weak and helpless as he loomed above her.

"Quit being scared, I ain't gonna hurt you." He cooed, trying to control her struggles by gripping her waist, needing to tighten the grip where she thrashed around like a fish out of water, aiming to fend him off with hitting at him with her bound hands.

"Please let me go, please, I- I won't tell anyone, I promise, I promise, sir, I-" She pleaded, but Bakugo couldn't care for the hysteria cooped up in her ditzy little head, annoyed with her pathetic rambling, needing to make her understand the new situation.

"Shut up, toots."

His fingers found the plush of her cheeks roughly and squished them to make her still, chuckling crudely at how large and hopeless her eyes shown up at him.

"You think you can play perfect little housewife and not own up to it?"

His eyes had her frozen, glowing scarlet with crazed predatory heat, the carved knifelike smile on his face looking like that of a hyena in a hunting frenzy, eyeing cornered prey.

"Uhm- sir?" She whimpered, twisting at the stench of his breath wafting over her face with warmth.

"You stopped wearing that skirt I liked." He dismissed her. "Got tired of your quirk telling you how I needed to bend you over my desk?"

She gasped, eyes widening even more, going completely silent, dead-still under his touch if it weren't for the heavy sporadic rise and fall of her chest.

"You're scaring me-" She whimpered and his smile grew, eyes going dull, lazy with awe at her adorable little pitiful face.

"And the lipgloss-" He ignored her outcry again. "You stopped wearing that too."

He scrunched her face tighter between his fingers, making her whimper beneath him.

"Too freaked out by how your boss needed you to come into his office and lock the door behind you?"

She hiccuped at the feel of her heart jumping to her throat and how his eyes seemed to want to drown her in red.

"How I needed you down on your knees in that tight pencil-skirt, plump pink lips wrapped warm wet and nice around my cock."

"Mr. Bakugo-"

"What? You gonna make me some tea? Help me calm down?" He teased, drawing in closer, face less than an inch form hers where tears spilled rapidly from her poor glass-eyes. "Nah... what's your quirk telling you that I really need right now, huh?"

She trembled, shaking her head.

"I- I don't understand-"

"You don't understand?" He interrupted, voice pouty in mockery. "Just so innocent, huh?"

She thought she might faint when feeling his hand drumming thick sand-paper fingertips down the soft skin of her stomach.

"'Cause... to me it feels like I need to be eight inches deep in my tiny assistant's tight twat."

She started sobbing then, wanting to push him off or hold onto her underwear when he hooked his fingers into the flimsy band and starting running them down her thighs. Unable to do anything when kept levelled by the eyes staring her deep in her little terrified soul and the hand holding her cheeks, forcing her to face him. Where no amount of struggling would loosen the rope keeping her wrists together, only succeeding in chaffing the delicate soft skin found there.

"Sir, please- think about this- ah- please- don't- don't do this."

Her legs kicked, but small as she was all he needed to was push her knees aside, spread her wide, the cool air kissing her bare cunt, quivering beneath him.

"You're too obsessed with giving people what they need." He drawled, body sagging in awe at the pretty sight in front of him, her cute face torn with anxiety, caught in his hand, lips juicy wet with tears as she sucked in her breaths, in full focus on him and his hand coming to play with her scared little sex. "How about I give you what you need for once?"

"No- sir, please, stop."

She tried twisting away, tried inching further up on the bed, scurrying away from his touch, but wasn't given the freedom.

"You said you wouldn't hurt me-" She accused, voice wet and broken with hopeless betrayal, desperate to make him stop.

"And I ain't gonna hurt you-" He reassured, though acting as the farthest thing from assuring as he dipped his roughened fingertips into her soft tender folds, messaging the slit gently. "I'mma take care of you, proper care."

She felt like she was suffocating, throat tightening, tongue a heavy foreigner in her mouth, the room a taste of blood.

"Truth is, little assistant, you make me hate being alone." Tone so very gratingly overbearing, burning in her head, words like flames licking at her ears. "Only right you fix it."

She whined in protest.

"Please, sir, stop-"

Insisting in small prayers, blubbering like a little bawling toddler, lips quivering, shaking on each sob.

He lifted his hand and put two of his fingers into his mouth, gathering a thick coat of saliva on them before motioning it back between her thighs.

"I need you warming my bed more than I need you running errands anyway." He whispered, smearing the thickness of his digits between her folds, running over her clit before skewering his middle-finger inside her tight little hole.

She wrenched uncomfortably.

"Please, sir-"

Quaking on her shaking sobs with her breaths hitching in her throat, thighs jolting, squirming in small pitiful hopeless struggles.

"Shh, baby." He cooed, but she only cried harder. "I won't hurt you- promise." Repeating the vow, he placed a chaste kiss to the side of her mouth, tasting the salt of tears on his tongue. "It's just like you said..."

He continued laying a trail of wet slobbering kisses down her neck, nipping at her skin playfully with the teeth of his smirk, watching with idle eyes her chest heaving in shallow panicked breaths.

"You just keep up the good work..."

His finger pumped into her slowly, thick and boney, crooked by many years of breaking bones, both his own and others, reaching in deep, hooking into the tender spongey wall, so sensitive at the hand of his brazen confident touches it made her moan.

"You keep me happy, while I go save the world."

♡ P2: Housewife ♡ Bakugou Katsuki masterlist ♡ BNHA masterlist

Can you draw my beefy husband Nanami some time? 🤪

you speak directly to my heart anon

This was inspired by a story written by the precious @sukunasteeth

Please check it out!

*still manifesting this relationship quality and dynamic*

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Sukuna

Story Masterlist

Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader

Genre: Angst, Romance, Smut

Story Warnings: Planned Pregnancy, Forced Marriage, Slight hate to love relationship, Four-Armed Sukuna

Bored with his life, Sukuna decides he wants something else. He wants an heir. A horrible idea for everyone– Especially for the maiden that’s tasked with fulfilling his whim.

Sukuna always gets what he wants in the end.

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

[Chapter 1] Offerings